The time has come. The guards have come for me, including Sir William Kingston, the Constable of the Tower. I begged for him to hear me out on my innocence, and make a little ditty about my little neck to get one last laugh out of me. They take me to the scaffold. On my way there I think of the memories.  Running around with Mary and George, being at the Field of Cloth of Gold, seeing Henry in his regal glory, my coronation, playing with my Elizabeth, and my trial.  Woe is to the Queen.
                     At last I think of Henry. What provoked me to say yes to him?  I shall never know. But I smile with sheer pleasure because my Elizabeth has my dark eyes. What does this mean? It means that every time he looks at her, he looks at me.
                    “Are you alright, M’lady?”
                    “Yes Master Kingston. I am thinking only upon God right now.” I think he saw me grin….
                    We arrive at the scaffold, my portal to Heaven (or what Henry thinks is Hell.)  Why must my legs be like Christmas jelly?  Oh, but I try climb the stairs with good grace, and I approach the top.  
                    I make a short speech, my last lament in this world:
            "Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for….."
                    I am blindfolded and my headdress is removed. I kneel in a praying manner, and say:
                  "To Jesus Christ I commend my soul; Lord Jesus receive my soul."
                    I hear the gruff voice of the executioner ask, “Where is my sword?”
                    With a swift sound, it is done.
                     Woe is to the Queen.