June 19, 1554

We have had our first fittings for our costumes. Mary Seton is a shepherdess. Mary Fleming is Titania, a nature sprite and Queen of the Fairies. Many thought I should be Titania, but you see, I am a real Queen and not a fairy one, so I do not think it proper to pretend to be a fantastical Queen. I am a nightingale, and if the story is too sad, well, people can make up another in their heads. Mary Beaton is Puck or sometimes he is called Robin Goodfellow, a mischievous sprite. Mary Livingston is a wood nymph. I love this holiday for it is twined with thoughts of magic and mischief and love – yes, it is a time for lovers and fire. Fire is believed to ensure a good harvest and fertility. In Scotland, farmers lead their sheep through villages and pastures with torches lighted from an immense Midsummer’s bonfire. Some folk jump with their sweethearts over burning coals to prove their love because it is also a festival for lovers.

The four Marys and I plan to follow an ancient practice of which we have heard. We shall fast on the day of Midsummer Eve and lay a table in our apartments here at Anet with a clean cloth, bread, cheese, and wine and leave open our door. It is said that the spirit of the man one is to marry shall enter. Of course, it is not so exciting for me, as I already know whom I am to marry. But I wonder if some magic might happen and suppose I were surprised and it was someone else’s spirit and not Francis’s. Oh dear, I should not write such things. I do love Francis so. But I think it is more exciting not knowing who you are to marry, as I have since I was four years old.