those half-smothered voices. Luther heard them and was strengthened.

But there was no danger he would betray the momentous trust. That
morning, amid great rugged prayers which broke from him like massive
rock-fragments hot and burning from a volcano of mingled faith and
agony, laying one hand on the open Bible and lifting the other to
heaven, he cast his soul on Omnipotence, in pledge unspeakable to obey
only his conscience and his God. Whether for life or death, his heart
was fixed.

A few steps more and he stood before Imperial majesty, encompassed by
the powers and dignitaries of the earth, so brave, calm, and true a
man that thrones and kings looked on in silent awe and admiration, and
even malignant scorn for the moment retreated into darkness. Since He
who wore the crown of thorns stood before Pontius Pilate there had not
been a parallel to this scene.[13]

FOOTNOTES:

[13] A Romanist thus describes the picture: "When the approach of
Luther was heard there ensued one of those deep silences in which the
heart alone, by its hurried pulsations, gives sign of life. Attention
was diverted from the emperor to the monk. On the appearance of Luther
every one rose, regardless of the sovereign's presence. It inspired
Werner with one of the finest acts of his tragedy.... Heine has
glorified the appearance at Worms. The Catholic himself loves to
contemplate that black gown in the presence of those lords and barons
caparisoned in iron and armed with helmet and spear, and is moved by
the voice of 'that young friar' who comes to defy all the powers of
the earth."--Audin's _Life of Luther_.