His confessor came and awoke him.

"_Surgite, eamus_ (rise, let us be going)," he said, as he awoke; and when his surgeon would have dressed his wounds, "Now is the time to heal all my wounds with a single one," he said, and he had himself dressed in the clothes of white linen he had ordered to be made at Lectoure for the day of execution.

When the last questions were put to him by the judges, he answered by a complete confession; and when the decree was made known to him, "I thank you, gentlemen," said he to the commissioners, "and I beg you to tell all them of your body from me, that I hold this decree of the king's justice for a decree of God's mercy." He walked to the scaffold with the same tranquillity, saluting right and left those whom he knew, to take leave of them; then, having with difficulty placed himself upon the block, so much did his wounds still cause him to suffer, he said out loud, "_Domine Jesu, accipe spiritum meum (Lord Jesus, receive my spirit)!_" As his head fell, the people rushed forward to catch his blood and dip their handkerchiefs in it.
Henry de Montmorency was the last of the ducal branch of his house, and was only thirty-seven.
It was a fine opportunity for Monsieur to once more break his engagements.

Shame and anxiety drove him equally.

He was universally reproached with Montmorency's death; and he was by no means easy on the subject of his marriage, of which no mention had been made in the arrangements.