The first intimation which Biron received of his impending doom, was from seeing that crowds were gathering together in the neighbourhood of the Bastile. The change of time and place had not been publicly made known. “I am sentenced! I am a dead man!” he instantly exclaimed. He then sent a messenger to Sully, to request that he would come to him, or would intercede with the king. With these requests Sully declined to comply, but he desired the messenger to leave the marshal in doubt as to the king’s intention. On the following morning, the last day of July, 1602, the chancellor, accompanied by some of his officers, proceeded to the Bastile, to read the sentence to him, and announce its immediate execution. Biron was at the moment deeply engaged in calculating his nativity. When he was taken down to the chancellor, he addressed him in an unconnected rhapsody of prayers, lamentations, invectives, and reproaches, intermingled with protestations of innocence, and vaunts of the services which he was yet capable of rendering to the state. He besought that he might be suffered to live, even though it were in prison and in chains! It was a considerable time before the chancellor could obtain a hearing, and he was speedily interrupted by sallies of rage from the marshal, who reproached him with hardness of heart, execrated La Fin, accused the king of being revengeful, and the parliament of injustice in not having allowed sufficient time for his vindication, and, finally, asserted that he was put to death because he was a sincere catholic. This burst of insane passion was succeeded by a lucid interval, during which he calmly dictated his will, sent tokens of remembrance to his friends, and distributed in alms the money which he had about him. The reading of some parts of his sentence again roused his irritable feelings. When he heard the charge of having intended to destroy the king, he exclaimed, “That is false! blot it out!” and when the Grêve was mentioned, he declared that no power on earth should drag him thither, and that he would sooner be torn to pieces by wild horses than submit to such an indignity. He was quieted by being told of the change which had been made; but, when it was hinted to him that his arms must be bound, he relapsed into such violence that it was thought advisable to leave his hands at liberty. He then made his confession to the priest; and it was remarked that he, who had just before boasted of being a good catholic, was ignorant of the commonest forms of prayer, prayed more like a soldier than a Christian, and seemed to be thinking less of his salvation than of the things of this world.