He prepared for death with firmness, and with apparent contrition for his past misdeeds. During the night preceding the execution, the king’s mind was far from tranquil. He remembered the real services of the constable through so many years, the affection he had once borne him, and the promise he had made of sparing his life. The remembrance was so troublesome that he once or twice delivered a sealed paper to the chamberlain on duty, which he wished to be taken to Zuñiga--doubtless, to stay the execution. Hearing of his agitation, the queen, whose conduct throughout was exceedingly vindictive, hastened to him, and succeeded in suspending rather than removing his scruples. As the fatal hour approached, Don Alvaro, mounted on a mule, and attended by two monks, left his house for the scaffold. On the way, the public herald, according to custom, vociferated his crimes and punishment. “I deserve all this,” said he, “and more, for my sins!” When near the scaffold, he called a page of the prince, and said to him, “Page, tell my lord the prince to reward his servants better than the king, my sovereign, now rewards me!” He ascended with a firm step, knelt for a few moments before a crucifix, bared his neck with his own hands, and quietly laid his head on the block, when the executioner plunged the knife into his throat, and afterwards separated the head from the body, amidst the tears of the surrounding multitude. Thus fell the great constable of Castile, the victim, chiefly, of his own immeasurable ambition, and in no mean degree of courtier jealousy and of royal faithlessness. If his crimes were many, they were characteristic rather of the age than of the man: he was certainly no more criminal than the great body of the Castilian barons, who despised alike justice and reason when violence could secure their ends. To him the queen was indebted for her crown; yet she persecuted him with unrelenting hatred. The numbers whom he had enriched forsook him as his favour declined; three only of his army of dependents remained faithful to the last. And as to his trial, the most eminent legal authorities of Spain have satisfactorily proved that in his case both the spirit and forms of justice were disregarded. Juan II did not long survive the constable: he died in 1454. He was one of the weakest and most despicable princes that ever swayed the scepter of any country. Besides two sons, he left issue the infanta Isabella,[46] so famous in the annals of Spain.[g] HUME’S ESTIMATE OF JUAN II [Sidenote: [1406-1458 A.D.]]