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‘‘Sire!“
‘‘In the solemn hour of death 1 address myself to you,
my Royal Brother, in order to express to you my hearty
thanks for the kindness which you have shewn me during
my life, and particularly under my many misfortunes.
"I die willingly, and nothing detains me — not my
blooming youth, not the Spring of my days, nor the joys o f
life which sooner or later might await me.
“What charms can life have for her, who is separated
from all she loves — husband, children, brothers and sisters!
I, descended from Kings, and myself a Queen, have led the
most deplorable life , and stand an example to the world
that neither crown nor sceptre can afford any protection
against misfortune.
“But I am innocent — I write it with a trembling
hand bathed in the cold sweat of death — I am innocent.
That God, whom I invoke, who created me, who judges me,
be he witness of my innocence. 0 that he may convince
the world, when I am gon e, that I have not deserved even
one of those dreadful accusations by which the malice of
my secret enemies has stained my character, wounded my
reputation, cast doubt on my honour, and trampled under
foot my dignity. Believe, Sire, your dying Sister, a Queen,
still more, a Christian, who would look with trembling and
horror into that other world beyond, if her last confession
were a lie — — Believe m e, I die with pleasure, for the
wretched welcome death.
“But far greater than the agony of death is the pain of
having none of those I love near my death-bed to impart
by the pressure of the hand and a compassionate glance the
last, comfort in this life, and with a kind hand to close my
eyes in death.
“Yet I am not alone.
God, the sole witness of my
innocence, looks down upon the couch on which I suffer.
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