The bearer of this and his companions--chiefly subjects of yours--will testify to you of my deportment at this the last scene of my life. It remains only for me to implore you, as Most Christian King, my brother-in-law, friend and ally, who have done me so much honour as to love me and protest of your affection, that under this blow you show proof of your virtue in these matters by charitably aiding me in that which it is impossible for me to do without your assistance, namely, to reward my desolate attendants by giving them their salaries, and by having prayer made to God for a Queen who has been called Very-Christian, and who dies a Catholic and destitute of all means.
Regarding my son, I commend him to you inasmuch as he shall merit it, as I cannot answer for him; for my servants I beg your help with clasped hands. I venture to send you two rare stones, valuable for health, the which I desire you to have in perfection, as also I wish you a long and happy life. You will receive them as from your very affectionate sister-in-law, who in dying desires to show her affection for you. I will again recommend my servants to you in a memoranda, and you will command, if you please, that my soul shall benefit by a portion of that which you owe me, in honour of Jesus Christ, to whom I will pray for you to-morrow at my death. I beg you to grant sufficient to found an Obit, and to make the desired Alms.--This Wednesday, at two hours after midnight.--Your very affectionate good sister,
When this, her last letter, was written, the Queen made a short memorandum to recommend once more her attendants to Henry III. She begged him to take Bourgoing as his doctor, and "to believe all he should tell him."
Having now set all her affairs in order, Mary told her attendants that "she wished to think no more of worldly matters, but desired to employ the little time she had to live for the things of eternity." It was now two o'clock in the morning. In order to imitate our Lord, and to prepare for her last journey, the Queen had her feet washed. Then, overcome with fatigue, she lay down on her bed without undressing, while her women, who had already arrayed themselves in mourning garments to mark their grief, watched and prayed around her.[131] It was the Queen's custom to have some pages of the lives of the saints read to her every evening. This night she desired Jane Kennedy to look for the life of some saint who had once been a great sinner. She stopped her at the life of the good thief, saying humbly, "In truth he was a great sinner, but not so great as I have been. I wish to take him for my patron for the time that remains to me. May my Saviour, in memory of His passion, remember me and have mercy on me, as He had of him at the hour of His death."