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MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 23 husband and son once more. It was a great sorrow to her when the prince did not return ; for William was now her only- son, Richard being dead. The king and queen spent Christmas together, almost in seclusion, on account of Matilda's health. At the early age of forty, this good queen felt herself fast departing from the world, by a gradual decay of strength, which was probably consumption. She would not suffer her husband to remain with her to the injury of his rule in Normandy, which was in such an unsettled state ; and Henry again departed. It was the last farewell of the husband and wife. Maltilda lingered through the spring, patiently enduring her long sickness in her solitary palace at Westminster, her favorite abode, and the one to which she had been brought a bride eight- een years before. No children were with her ; her sole compan- ions being three high-born Saxon ladies, her maids of honor, who were devotedly attached to their royal mistress, so much so that after her death they entered a nunnery. During the weary months of solitude,. Matilda calmly prepared for death, and awaited the great change with patience and hope, continuing her religious exercises to the last. She died on May-day, 11 18. Henry did not even return to attend the obsequies of his departed consort ; and Matilda was laid by the side of Edward the Confessor, in Westminster Abbey, her sole mourners being her own attendants and her subjects, by whom she was passion- ately lamented, and fondly remembered for centuries by the title of "Good Queen Maude." As a queen, a wife, a mother, she was blameless. Her piety was equaled by her benevolence, and to this day the effects of her good influence over her husband and her people are felt- in the land. We will close Matilda's history with a tribute to her memory by a contemporary writer, William of Huntingdon ; of which our English is, at all events, a faithful translation : "Prospera non lsetam fecere ; nee aspera tristem; Aspera risus erantprospera terror erant; Non decor erf ecit fragilem, non sceptra superbarri ; Sola potens humilis, sola pudica decens." "Prosperity her soul elated not. Nor sorrow bowed her down ; ever to her Grief came like gladness — fortune, terror brought. Her beauty was to sin no minister. Her scepter gave no pride. Her sovereign dower." Was meekness ; modesty her richest dower."