SCENE II.
On the scaffold. An immense crowd is assembled outside the prison of Holdfast. The three prisoners have been pinioned, and have reached the spot of execution.
Fortunatus (to the hangman): “I claim the privilege of dying first, Being the youngest of us three condemned, So man, make me your first experiment, And take your time, don’t hurry, be composed. Tut man, don’t tremble! What is there to fear? Learn from young Fortunatus how to die. Adjust the rope. There! Steady. Hark! I hear. [Listens. ’Tis the far echo of a horse’s feet, Surely, yes surely, both will now be saved, I feel it, bless thee Hector, Vic——”
A tremendous roar is heard outside. The words “Reprieve, Reprieve, the King himself! The King!” suddenly penetrate to the scaffold. A minute later and the King hurries thereon.
King Hector. “Reprieved! Governor hear! They are reprieved!” [Staring at the group. “Two only here? Where is young Fortunatus?”
The Hangman. “Dead, Sire! The word ‘reprieve’ reached me too late, The sound arrived just as I pulled the bolt. His last words were ‘Bless thee Hector, Victory!’ I heard them uttered as he fell below, His death was speedy, instantaneous.”
Hector, laying both hands on Vulnar’s shoulder and bowing his head on them, sobs out: “Isola! Isola! too late! too late! Oh! Isola forgive. I rode my best. I rode not as a King, but as a man Whose heart was bursting to reach you in time. I rode the horse you used to love so well. The chestnut Saladin. He cleft the air, He seemed to fly like arrow from the bow. He did his utmost. I did mine. Alas! Fate was against us. Fate inexorable.”
The Governor of Holdfast prison exclaiming to himself: “Isola! Fortunatus, Isola? By all the gods! This is a pretty pass. [To a Warder. Haste man! Cut down young Fortunatus. See. Quick! bear the body to my private rooms. Explain the situation to my wife. Tell her to lay Isola on the bed. Apprise her that the King is here. The King! A pretty pass! A tragedy indeed!”
Vulnar (to the hangman): “Unpinion me and Scrutus. Do it sharp, man.” [A pause. Turning to the King and taking his hand: “Oh! sire, grieve not, you did your very best. Would I had died first, and saved Isola. I never dreamed of a reprieve. Brave heart! She died to give me life. She died for Truth. Sire, see to it she did not die in vain. Her last words, ‘Bless thee Hector. Victory!’ Shall ring into your soul and make you just, Oh! yes, they shall. Her name will gain the day, Isola dead, shall win bright Victory.”
King Hector (still sobbing): “Take me to Isola. Isola! I tried to save thee, but I came too late. I strove with human might to be in time, The human heart was beating in my breast. All royal mummery had left my side, It was the man and not the King that strove, Though Kings can feel, they are just human beings, Albeit barbaric customs make them dolls. And I, I loved thee Isola. I did. Who could help loving one so kind, so true?” (To Vulnar) “Vulnar, where is she? Take me to her side, I tried to save her, but I came too late.”