When Sir Robert Cecil declared that she must go to bed and receive medical aid, the word roused her like a trumpet. "Must!" she exclaimed, "is _must_ a word to be addressed to princes? Little man, little man! thy father, were he alive, durst not have used that word." Then, as her anger spent itself, she sank into the old dejection. "Thou art so presumptuous," she said, "because thou knowest that I shall die." She rallied once more when the ministers beside her named Lord Beauchamp, the heir to the Suffolk claim, as a possible successor. "I will have no rogue's son," she cried hoarsely, "in my seat." But she gave no sign save a motion of the head at the mention of the King of Scots. She was, in fact, fast becoming insensible; and early the next morning, on March 24, 1603, the life of Elizabeth, a life so great, so strange and lonely in its greatness, ebbed quietly away.[19] [19] There is a dim tradition that, much more than a century ago, the tomb under which the two sister-queens--Mary, the Roman Catholic, and Elizabeth, the Protestant, _regno consortes et urna_--lie side by side had fallen into disrepair, and that a bold Westminster boy crept into the hollow vault, and, through an aperture in the coffin, laid his hand on the heart of the mighty Tudor queen.--_Farrar._ ELIZABETH (Philippine Marie Helene, usually called Madame Elizabeth, sister of Louis XVI), 1764-1794. "_In the name of modesty, cover my bosom!_" When she ascended the scaffold, the executioner rudely undid the clasp which closed the veil across her breast. "In the name of modesty," she said to one of the bystanders whose arms were not tied, "cover my bosom!" Alison, in his "History of Europe," calls attention to the fact that "a similar instance of heroic virtue in death occurred in a female martyr in the early Christian church. Perpetua and Felicitas, both Christians, were sentenced in the year 203, to be killed by wild cattle at Carthage. They were both attacked, accordingly, by furious bulls, who tossed them on their horns. So violent was the shock that Perpetua fell on the ground stunned; but partly recovering her senses, she was seen gathering her torn clothes about her, so as to conceal her limbs, and after tying her hair, she helped Felicitas to rise, who had been severely wounded; and, standing together, calmly awaited another attack." ELLIOTT (Ebenezer, English poet known as the "Corn-Law Rhymer." He was a workman in an iron foundry who won the attention of the cultivated world by his verses, and rose to eminence by his "Corn-Law Rhymes" in which he urged the repeal of duties on corn. He wrote also "The Village Patriarch," "Byron and Napoleon," "Love" and a number of other poems of more or less merit), 1781-1849. "_A strange sight, sir, an old man unwilling to die._" EMERSON (Ralph Waldo, American essayist, poet, and speculative philosopher), 1803-1882.