"You ask a pardon for Severinus's would-be murderer. I cannot believe that you have maturely considered this matter. Severinus still suffers from the effects of that dangerous wound, and ought I to release the man who dealt it? Severinus is the soul of the whole reverend order of Jesuits. He has relations with the leading ecclesiastics in my domains. The order, nay, even the whole church, was greatly agitated by this unprecedented crime, whose punishment my confessor thought far too light, and now, after five years, I am to perform a most unusual act of clemency. Tell me yourself, how would it be received? how would it be looked upon by the whole priesthood, which was then deeply offended because I would not make the criminal a terrible example? If you so firmly believe the man's deposition, leave the matter to the regular course of the law; then he will not need my pardon." "I thought, your Highness, in consideration of the certainty that the unhappy man did not wish to kill Severinus----" "That is all very fine, my dear fellow," interrupted the prince, with somewhat more animation than usual; "but who knows it? And if I should bring it forward as the cause of my clemency, who will believe it? Can I prove that my private opinion is the correct one, and a sufficient cause for remitting a punishment universally considered to be well merited? My individual opinion ought not voluntarily to take sides with Severinus's assailant, and decide a matter so complicated. Only the calm, unanimous judgment of a court of justice can determine the true meaning of the act, and free him by the power of the law. If you are convinced of the truth of your assertion, you will certainly succeed in persuading the court to believe it, and you doubtless feel that the duty of bearing the punishment for your error rests with you rather than me." The prince said all this in a low, rapid tone, with a most friendly smile, yet every word fell upon _Heinrich's_ soul like a blow. He clinched his teeth even while he smiled, mentally called the prince a smooth, cold egotist, and was convinced that he was a martyr of self-sacrifice in comparison with this man. When two egotists meet, each, with mournful self-satisfaction, considers himself the victim of the other. This was the case with the prince, who also reflected upon the selfishness of _Heinrich's_ expectations, and thought himself very noble because he forgave him.