to acquaint Count Hoorne with his fate. That nobleman received the awful
tidings with less patience than was shown by his friend. He gave way to
a burst of indignation at the cruelty and injustice of the sentence. It
was a poor requital, he said, for eight and twenty years of faithful
services to his sovereign. Yet, he added, he was not sorry to be
released from a life of such incessant fatigue.[1167] For some time he
refused to confess, saying he had done enough in the way of
confession.[1168] When urged not to throw away the few precious moments
that were left to him, he at length consented.

The count was dressed in a plain suit of black, and wore a Milanese cap
upon his head. He was, at this time, about fifty years of age. He was
tall, with handsome features, and altogether of a commanding
presence.[1169] His form was erect, and as he passed with a steady step
through the files of soldiers, on his way to the place of execution, he
frankly saluted those of his acquaintance whom he saw among the
spectators. His look had in it less of sorrow than of indignation, like
that of one conscious of enduring wrong. He was spared one pang, in his
last hour, which had filled Egmont's cup with bitterness; though, like
him, he had a wife, he was to leave no orphan family to mourn him.

As he trod the scaffold, the apparatus of death seemed to have no power
to move him. He still repeated the declaration, that, "often as he had
offended his Maker, he had never, to his knowledge, committed any
offence against the king." When his eyes fell on the bloody shroud that
enveloped the remains of Egmont, he inquired if it were the body of his
friend. Being answered in the affirmative, he made some remark in
Castilian, not understood. He then prayed for a few moments, but in so
low a tone, that the words were not caught by the by-standers, and,
rising, he asked pardon of those around if he had ever offended any of
them, and earnestly besought their prayers. Then, without further delay,
he knelt down, and, repeating the words "_In manus tuas, Domine_," he
submitted himself to his fate.[1170]

His bloody head was set up opposite to that of his fellow-sufferer. For
three hours these ghastly trophies remained exposed to the gaze of the
multitude. They were then taken down, and, with the bodies, placed in
leaden coffins, which were straightway removed,--that containing the
remains of Egmont to the convent of Santa Clara, and that of Hoorne to