nd, little dreaming
that for him a darker doom was reserved than that of which he was now the
minister. The executioner was concealed beneath the draperies of the
scaffold.

At eleven o'clock, a company of Spanish soldiers, led by Julian Romero
and Captain Salinas, arrived at Egmont's chamber. The Count was ready for
them. They were about to bind his hands, but he warmly protested against
the indignity, and, opening the folds of his robe, showed them that he
had himself shorn off his collars, and made preparations for his death.
His request was granted. Egmont, with the Bishop at his side, then walked
with a steady step the short distance which separated him from the place
of execution. Julian Romero and the guard followed him. On his way, he
read aloud the fifty-first Psalm: "Hear my cry, O God, and give ear unto
my prayer!" He seemed to have selected these scriptural passages as a
proof that, notwithstanding the machinations of his enemies, and the
cruel punishment to which they had led him, loyalty to his sovereign was
as deeply rooted and as religious a sentiment in his bosom as devotion to
his God. "Thou wilt prolong the King's life; and his years as many
generations. He shall abide before God for ever! O prepare mercy and
truth which may preserve him." Such was the remarkable prayer of the
condemned traitor on his way to the block.

Having ascended the scaffold, he walked across it twice or thrice. He was
dressed in a tabard or robe of red damask, over which was thrown a short
black mantle, embroidered in gold. He had a black silk hat, with black
and white plumes, on his head, and held a handkerchief in his hand. As he
strode to and fro, he expressed a bitter regret that he had not been
permitted to die, sword in hand, fighting for his country and his king.
Sanguine to the last, he passionately asked Romero, whether the sentence
was really irrevocable, whether a pardon was not even then to be granted.
The marshal shrugged his shoulders, murmuring a negative reply. Upon
this, Egmont gnashed his teeth together, rather in rage than despair.
Shortly afterward commanding himself again, he threw aside his robe and
mantle, and took the badge of the Golden Fleece from his neck. Kneeling,
then, upon one of the cushions, he said the Lord's Prayer aloud, and
requested the Bishop, who knelt at his side, to repeat it thrice. After
this, the prelate gave him the silver crucifix to kiss, and then
pronounced his blessing upon hi