have pity
on me? take courage. Assuredly, it costs me more than half the pain I
endure, to see you suffer; and reasonably so, because the evils which we
ourselves feel we do not actually ourselves suffer, but it certain
sentient faculties which God plants in us, that feel them: whereas what
we feel on account of others, we feel by consequence of a certain
reasoning process which goes on within our minds. But I am going away"
--That he said because his strength was failing him; and fearing that he
had frightened his wife, he resumed, observing: "I am going to sleep.
Good night, my wife; go thy way." This was the last farewell he took of
her.

After she had left, "My brother," said he to me, "keep near me, if you
please;" and then feeling the advance of death more pressing and more
acute, or else the effect of some warm draught which they had made him
swallow, his voice grew stronger and clearer, and he turned quite with
violence in his bed, so that all began again to entertain the hope which
we had lost only upon witnessing his extreme prostration.

At this stage he proceeded, among other things, to pray me again and
again, in a most affectionate manner, to give him a place; so that I was
apprehensive that his reason might be impaired, particularly when, on my
pointing out to him that he was doing himself harm, and that these were
not of the words of a rational man, he did not yield at first, but
redoubled his outcry, saying, "My brother, my brother! dost thou then
refuse me a place?" insomuch that he constrained me to demonstrate to
him that, as he breathed and spoke, and had his physical being, therefore
he had his place. "Yes, yes," he responded, "I have; but it is not that
which I need; and, besides, when all is said, I have no longer any
existence." "God," I replied, "will grant you a better one soon."
"Would it were now, my brother," was his answer. "It is now three days
since I have been eager to take my departure."

Being in this extremity, he frequently called me, merely to satisfy him
that I was at his side. At length, he composed himself a little to rest,
which strengthened our hopes; so much so, indeed, that I left the room,
and went to rejoice thereupon with Mademoiselle de la Boetie. But, an
hour or so afterwards, he called me by name once or twice, and then with
a long sigh expired at three o'clock on Wednesday morning, the 18th
August 1563, having lived thirty-two years, nine months, and seve