condemned him to be executed by the sword on the following day, and
decreed that his head should be placed on high in a public place, there
to remain until the Duke should otherwise direct. The sentence against
Count Horn was similar in language and purport.

That afternoon the Duke sent for the Bishop of Ypres, The prelate arrived
at dusk. As soon as he presented himself, Alva informed him of the
sentence which had just been pronounced, and ordered him to convey the
intelligence to the prisoners. He further charged him with the duty of
shriving the victims, and preparing their souls for death. The bishop
fell on his knees, aghast at the terrible decree. He implored the
Governor-General to have mercy upon the two unfortunate nobles. If their
lives could not be spared, he prayed him at any rate to grant delay.
With tears and earnest supplications the prelate endeavored to avert or
to postpone the doom which had been pronounced. It was in vain. The
sentence, inflexible as destiny, had been long before ordained. Its
execution had been but hastened by the temporary triumph of rebellion in
Friesland. Alva told the Bishop roughly that he had not been summoned to
give advice. Delay or pardon was alike impossible. He was to act as
confessor to the criminals, not as councillor to the Viceroy. The
Bishop, thus rebuked, withdrew to accomplish his melancholy mission.
Meanwhile, on the same evening, the miserable Countess of Egmont had been
appalled by rumors, too vague for belief, too terrible to be slighted.
She was in the chamber of Countess Aremberg, with whom she had come to
condole for the death of the Count, when the order for the immediate
execution of her own husband was announced to her. She hastened to the
presence of the Governor-General. The Princess Palatine, whose ancestors
had been emperors, remembered only that she was a wife and a mother. She
fell at the feet of the man who controlled the fate of her husband, and
implored his mercy in humble and submissive terms. The Duke, with calm