Mary, Queen of Scots (1542 -1587 CE)I have been Queen, and lived by my appetites. My will is royal, and royally has it served to love, to marry, to defy, to find the God best suited to a Queen's need for grace to understand, and compassion to forgive, this marriage of will and appetite. She, too, is Queen, cousin to Queen: she has lived by intellect. Majesty is her nature, cold enough to deny our common heritage, and belie the wigmakers' fire. Of love, she has none, nor husband, nor heir, her God, attenuated, distant, implacable. I shall wear red petticoats, red petticoats to light the dark way to forgiveness, red petticoats to remind her that she knows none but wignakers' fire.