Erasmus was silent, for he felt his error, and was too proud to justify it.
"No!" exclaimed the bishop. "Immediately take measures for bringing them hither under a secure guard. All--do you hear me? all, not excepting your own son."
The burgomaster was silent, and did not stir, while in his breast rekindled the strife that had scarcely been subdued.
"Well, gentlemen, am I to be obeyed?" cried the bishop, advancing with indignant majesty to the sessions-table, by Erasmus' upper place.
At this there started out of the hall, as if actuated by one spirit, the aldermen, Peter Treutler and Balthasar Albrecht, to fulfil the commands of the bishop, who continued to Erasmus--
"I am almost displeased with you, Mr. Burgomaster, and I hardly know what the emperor, to whom I must communicate this unhappy affair, will say to your proceedings. You Lutherans are constantly harping upon the holy Scriptures, and will be judged only after their words. Well, then, have you not read what the wise king Solomon says, 'Love justice, ye rulers of the earth, for injustice lays waste all lands, and evil life overthrows the seats of the mighty?' But what is to be thought of the equity of a judge, who imprisons the party of the murdered, and suffers the assassins to be at liberty, because his own son is at their head?"
This reproach touched exactly on the sore place, and cut so much the deeper into the soul of the proud elder; he was just about to burst forth in all the vigour of his mind, and with indignant zeal for the authority of his office; but then doctor Heidenreich advanced to him and whispered soothingly, "Since you have determined to submit, do it with a good grace, and make not a bad matter still worse by unseasonable passion." Upon this Erasmus collected himself by a violent effort, champed down the words which he had just been going to hurl against the bishop, and, retreating to the window, gazed indignantly at the nobles, who kept watch on horseback before the Guildhall, in close compact ranks, like so many colossuses of iron. In the mean time, the bishop seated himself in the burgomaster's arm-chair, reading over his papers, while so profound a silence reigned, that one might have heard the buzzing of the flies in the room and the heavy breathing of the anxious aldermen.
At length Treutler returned, followed by Rasselwitz, his arm in a sling, the poor one-handed Goldmann, and the rest of the accused. Armed city-mercenaries brought up the rear.
The bishop rose from his seat to observe the comers, and exclaimed to them authoritatively, "You are prisoners of the emperor and king of Bohemia, and of his chief tribunal at Prague. Give up your arms!"
"We recognize only the assize at Schweidnitz as our judges in this matter," retorted the wild Francis defyingly, in the name of all.