“Alas!” he cried, “they must die. The trial must, ere this, have been concluded, and I shall then know the punishment awarded them. It must be so; I cannot feel security till they are no more.”
The King heard a suppressed sob near him, and looking round, he beheld a young page kneeling at a short distance from where he sat. He started, and rising, retired a few paces, for in every human being he had been taught to suspect an agent of treason.
“What brings you here, boy? How could you have entered unperceived?” he exclaimed rapidly, as a strange thrill shot across his bosom. “Speak! who are you?”
“A wretched suppliant for your Majesty’s clemency,” answered the Page, in a low and broken voice.
“What mean you, boy? There are too many such in our dominions,” exclaimed the Monarch, bitterly. “But rise, boy, and retire: this intrusion ought to have been prevented. Whatever petition you have to make, present it to our Minister, Sebastiaö Jozé, two or three days hence, when he will have time to attend to you. We would be alone.”
“Alas! two days hence will be too late,” responded the Page, in the same low tone as before. “It is not to that cruel unbending man I would make my prayer. It is to your Majesty’s compassionate heart alone, a miserable guilty creature would appeal. Hear me, my liege; hear me. By my guilty conduct, many of those I was bound to love and honour—my kindred and connexions—have been, like the vilest felons, imprisoned and tortured, and some have, within this hour, been condemned to an agonising death and everlasting disgrace. For them I come to plead—their lives, their honour, are in your power. Spare them, my liege, and let me be the victim; for I, and I alone, have been the cause of all their sufferings.”
“Great Heavens! Whose voice is that?” exclaimed the King, more agitated than his suppliant, towards whom he hurriedly advanced, and whom he raised from the ground. “Donna Theresa!”
“Would to God you had never known that name, my liege. I am that wretched woman,” ejaculated the seeming page, still keeping her hands in a suppliant attitude before her, while the King gazed fondly at her care-worn, though yet lovely, countenance. “I have braved all dangers and difficulties,—I have deceived your guards,—I have penetrated to your Majesty’s retirement, to throw myself at your feet, and plead for my kindred’s lives. They cannot be guilty of the foul deed for which they are condemned;—they never could have sought to injure your Majesty, though even I have been accused by some (to heap greater wretchedness on my head) of having falsely accused them of the crime. Your Majesty knows I am thus far guiltless; and, if my injured husband, incited by jealousy and indignation of his wrongs, should have harboured a thought of malice, oh! show your magnanimity, by pardoning him and his family. Disarmed by your clemency, they could not then further injure you; or let them retire to some other land, where they may repent of ever having given cause of suspicion to so good and kind a master. This act of mercy alone would put down sedition, and bind more firmly all the nobles of the land to your service, and, revered while you live, your name would descend to posterity as a magnanimous and generous prince, who feared not to pardon those who had offended him. But, if your cruel Minister requires some one on whom to vent his hatred, of the aristocracy of the land, the legitimate and noble guardians of your person, whose jealousy he well knows has been aroused at his persevering interference, let me be delivered up as the victim of his vengeance. My fatal love for my sovereign first kindled the spark which has never yet burnt into a flame, and I alone ought to be sacrificed for my crime, if so your Majesty deems it.”
The King was deeply moved at the energy of her passion, her tears, and prayers. He led her gently to a chair, and insisted on her being seated, while he stood before her with his arms folded on his bosom; but, as soon as she perceived it, she rose, and threw herself kneeling on the ground.
“This must not be, Donna Theresa,” said the agitated Monarch, again attempting to raise her, but she would not quit her suppliant posture.