As time passed on, the mortality in the city became frightful. Mothers dropped dead in the streets with their dead children in their arms. A terrible plague, engendered by hardships and famine, was sweeping away the people like grass before the scythe. From six to eight thousand human beings sank before this scourge alone, yet the people resolutely held out--women and men mutually encouraging each other to resist the entrance of the foreign foe--an evil more horrible than pest or famine. The heroism of the Hollanders towered to sublimity. True a few of the faint-hearted one day assailed the mayor of Leyden, the heroic Adrian Van der Werf, with threats and reproaches as he passed through the streets. He stepped to one side and mounted the steps of the church of St. Pancras. There he stood, a tall, haggard, imposing figure, with dark visage, and a tranquil, but commanding eye. He waved his broad-brimmed hat for silence, and then exclaimed: "What would ye, my friends? Why do ye murmur that we do not break our vows and surrender the city to the Spaniards?--a fate more horrible than the agony which she now endures. I tell you, I have made an oath to hold the city, and may God give me strength to keep my oath! I can die but once; whether by your hands, the enemy's, or by the hand of God. My own fate is indifferent to me, not so that of the city entrusted to my care. I know that we shall starve if not soon relieved; but starvation is preferable to the dishonored death which is our only alternative. Your menaces move me not; my life is at your disposal, here is my sword, plunge it into my breast, and divide my flesh among you. Take my body to appease your hunger, but expect no surrender, so long as I remain alive." The words of the firm, old mayor, inspired a new courage in the hearts of those who heard him, and a shout of applause and defiance arose from the famishing, but enthusiastic crowd. After exchanging new vows of fidelity with their magistrate, {139} they left the place and again ascended tower and battlement to watch for the coming fleet. From the ramparts they hurled renewed defiance at the enemy. "Ye call us rat-eaters and dog-eaters," they cried, "and it is true. So long then, as ye hear dog bark, or cat mew, within the walls of the city, ye may know that it still holds out. And when all has perished but ourselves, be sure that we will each devour our left arms, retaining our right to defend our women, our liberty and our religion, against the foreign tyrant. Should God, in His providence, deny us all relief, even then will we maintain ourselves against your entrance. When the last hour has come, with our own hands we will set fire to the city and perish, men, women and children, together in the flames, rather than suffer our homes to be polluted and our liberties to be crushed."