the women might withdraw, as he did not war with them. As for the men,
they had offended him beyond forgiveness, and the sword should be their
lot. On further solicitation, he added to the concession a proviso that
the women might take away with them all that they could carry of their
most precious possessions, since he did not wish to throw them destitute
upon the world.

The obdurate emperor was to experience an unexampled surprise. When the
time fixed for the departure of the women arrived, and the city gates
were thrown open for their exit, to the astonishment of Conrad, and the
admiration of the whole army, the first to appear was the duchess, who,
trembling under the weight, bore upon her shoulders Duke Welf, her
husband. After her came a long line of other women, each bending beneath
the heavy burden of her husband, or some dear relative among the
condemned citizens.

Never had such a spectacle been seen. So affecting an instance of
heroism was it, and so earnest and pathetic were the faces appealingly
upturned to him, that the emperor's astonishment quickly changed to
admiration, and he declared that women like these had fairly earned
their reward, and that each should keep the treasure she had borne.
There were those around him with less respect for heroic deeds, who
sought to induce him to keep his original resolution, but Conrad, who
had it in him to be noble when not moved by passion, curtly silenced
them with the remark, "An emperor keeps his word." He was so moved by
the scene, indeed, that he not only spared the men, but the whole city,
and the doom of sword and brand, vowed against their homes, was
withdrawn through admiration of the noble act of the worthy wives of
Weinsberg.