For whom the bell tolls
Sarasin’s last moments were afflicted by the news that his assignment at the States General had been given to Louis Boucheret. This was Conti’s last blow. As was typical for this Pharisee, he accused another of his dirty trick to another. This time it was Cosnac who regretted bitterly to be suspected of this felony.
“I was desperate that I had no chance to justify myself by showing to Sarasin Prince’s treacherous letter. What made me even sadder was that I knew that during his illness Sarasin complained that I was a bad friend to him,” Cosnac writes in his “Memoirs”.
In the night of December the 5th 1654, Sarasin feels he is dying. He receives the last sacraments from the Jesuit R. P.Falla.
“In Nome Domini,” mutters the priest crossing the poet with the Holy Ointments. At last this is something smooth and soothing for his body eaten by the burning poison burning.
“Docebo Inique” (I teach the wicked), recites the priest. The poet collapses back into darkness from which he was expelled forty years ago.
Three hundred years after, I sit at his deathbed holding his hand.