CopenhagenAndItsEnvirons

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‘‘S ire!“ ‘‘In the solemn hour of death 1 address m yself 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 w illingly, and nothing detains me — not my bloom ing 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 m yself a Queen, have led the m ost deplorable lif e , 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 o f 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 g o n e , that I have not deserved even one of those dreadful accusations by which the malice of my secret enem ies 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 o f 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. G od , the sole w itness of my innocence, looks down upon the couch on which I suffer.

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