fears, the dejection of despair. The next day his children were brought to him; he blessed them, and bade them adieu, as well as his wife, from whom he parted without sorrow.[171] For many years his affection had been given to Lady Wentworth, whom he said was his wife before God, whilst he had espoused Lady Monmouth when too young for the marriage to be according to the spirit of God, although valid before the law. During the hours which preceded his death, Lady Wentworth was the constant object of his preoccupations, of his regrets, and of his most lively solicitude. Sometimes he maintained that his long relations with her had always been innocent, sometimes he gave out that he had always considered her as his legitimate wife. Without doubt it was the recollection of this noble and distinguished person, who loved him tenderly, and who a few months afterwards was to follow him to the tomb, that caused Monmouth to regain his feeling of dignity, till then disregarded. He all at once became more firm; and at ten in the morning entered the carriage of the Lieutenant of the Tower with a courage worthy of his race and of the woman who had inspired it in him. The open space where the scaffold was erected, all the streets leading to it, and the roofs of the neighbouring houses were covered with a multitude, who showed its disapprobation by a silence broken only by sighs and sobs. Every eye was fixed on Monmouth, who, having smilingly saluted the soldiers of the guard, was mounting with a firm foot the steps of the scaffold. Every one awaits with anxiety his last words. He pronounces them in a loud and distinct voice, and with the energy of fanaticism. He finishes by saying, “That he has satisfied his conscience, and that he dies in peace with God.” The Sheriff having pressed him to declare before the people whether he died in the faith of the English Church, he answered “Yes,” without hesitation; and on the bishops who accompanied him observing that, according to the principles of that church, he ought to obey his lawful king, he replied, “There is no question of that now; I have nothing to say about it.” Then he added, “that he had God’s pardon, and that he had nothing to reproach himself with in reference to Lady Wentworth, for whom he entertained as much esteem as affection.” The Sheriff having represented to him the scandal which he had caused in Holland by living publicly with this woman, and having asked him if he had married her, “I am sorry for this scandal,” replied Monmouth, “but this is not the time to answer your question.” The bishops afterwards conversed with him about the consequences of his revolt, of the blood which he had caused to be shed, and of so many companions led on by him to their ruin. Affected by this language, Monmouth said in a low voice that he agreed with them and that he regretted it. Next the bishops present offered up fervent prayers, which the Prince listened to with