y were
held in as much love and honor as in any of their own provinces. All
business was suspended. The shops were closed. The bells tolled in all
the churches. An air of gloom, as of some impending calamity, settled
on the city. "It seemed," says one residing there at the time, "as if
the day of judgment were at hand!"

As the procession slowly passed through the ranks of the soldiers,
Egmont saluted the officers--some of them his ancient companions--with
such a sweet and dignified composure in his manner as was long
remembered by those who saw it. And few even of the Spaniards could
refrain from tears as they took their last look at the gallant noble
who was to perish so miserably.

With a steady step he mounted the scaffold, and, as he crossed it,
gave utterance to the vain wish that, instead of meeting such a fate,
he had been allowed to die in the service of his King and country. He
quickly, however, turned to other thoughts, and, kneeling on one of
the cushions, with the bishop beside him on the other, he was soon
engaged earnestly in prayer. With his eyes raised toward heaven with a
look of unutterable sadness, he prayed so fervently and loud as to be
distinctly heard by the spectators. The prelate, much affected, put
into his hands the silver crucifix, which Egmont repeatedly kissed;
after which, having received absolution for the last time, he rose and
made a sign to the bishop to retire. He then stript off his mantle and
robe; and, again kneeling, he drew a silk cap, which he had brought
for the purpose, over his eyes, and, repeating the words, "Into Thy
hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit," he calmly awaited the stroke of
the executioner.

The low sounds of lamentation which from time to time had been heard
among the populace were now hushed into silence as the minister of
justice, appearing on the platform, approached his victim and with a
single blow of the sword severed the head from the body. A cry of
horror rose from the multitude, and some, frantic with grief, broke
through the ranks of the soldiers and wildly dipped their
handkerchiefs in the blood that streamed from the scaffold, treasuring
them up, says the chronicler, as precious memorials of love and
incitements to vengeance. The head was then set on one of the poles at
the end of the platform, while a mantle thrown over the mutilated
trunk hid it from the public gaze.

It was near noon when orders were sent to lead forth the remaining
prisone