Instead of the gauze robe, sparkling with silver, a black cloth dress covered her emaciated limbs; instead of brilliants, sparkling in her hair, a mourning veil covered her whitened locks.

The beauty and roundness of her neck had disappeared, and I saw around it a broad dark-red stripe.

Her head moved, and fell at my feet dissevered.
I saw it all, as distinctly as if it really happened, and seized with unspeakable pity I prostrated myself at her feet (who was unknowing of my vision), and besought her with all the anxiety and tenderness of friendship to leave Scotland, to fly from England, as there the death-tribunal awaited her.

But Mary Stuart only laughed at my warning, and called me a melancholy fool, whom jealousy made prophetic.

The more I begged and implored, the more wanton and gay the poor woman became.
Then, as I saw all persuasion was vain, that no one could save her from her dreadful fate, I took a solemn oath that I would be at her side at the hour of her peril, and accompany her to the scaffold.