"Lord Cardinal, you must absolve my people."

"If . . . if you will first make submission. My duty . . . to the
Holy See . . . Oh God! Will nothing move you?"

"When they have been hanged you will understand, and out of your
own affliction learn compassion." The Infante's voice was so
cold, his mien so resolute that the legate despaired of
conquering his purpose. Abruptly he capitulated, even as the
halters went about the necks of his two cherished lads.

"Stop!" he screamed. "Bid them stop! The curse shall be lifted."

Affonso Henriques opened the window with a leisureliness which to
the legate seemed to belong to the realm of nightmare.

"Wait yet a moment," the Infante called to those outside, about
whom by now a little knot of awe-stricken villagers had gathered.
Then he turned again to Cardinal Corrado, who had sunk to his
chair like a man exhausted, and sat now panting, his elbows on
the table, his head in his hands. "Here," said the prince, "are
the terms upon which you may have their lives: Complete
absolution, and Apostolic benediction for my people and myself
this very night, I on my side making submission to the Holy
Father's will to the extent of releasing my mother from duress,
with the condition that she leaves Portugal at once and does not
return. As for the banished bishop and his successor, matters
must remain as they are; but you can satisfy your conscience on
that score by yourself confirming the appointment of Don
Zuleyman. Come, my lord, I am being generous, I think. In the