And what a death! For him, the axe of the executioner and eternal infamy to his family; for me, the rack, the wheel, the gallows.

Do not blame me then, signor; do not contend against implacable fate; employ your last moments in prayer, or tell me that you are ready to receive the mortal blow.

Nothing can save you; that open tomb tells you a sad but pitiless truth.

Again I beg you, signor, lift up your heart to God, and do not force me to make use of sudden violence." "Die so young and guiltless!" lamented Geronimo.

"Never again to see the light of heaven! O Mary, my beloved! how you will deplore my fate! My poor uncle! sorrow will bring your gray hairs to the grave!" The accents of despair made Julio shudder; but he said, in a cold manner: "Are you ready, signor ?" "A moment more, one moment for prayer!" said Geronimo.
He joined his hands and uttered a fervent prayer; but although he apparently accepted his fate with resignation, it was equally evident that his soul struggled against the death which was hanging over him.
By degrees, however, prayer brought resignation and consolation to Geronimo, for the nervous trembling of his limbs ceased and his voice became more distinct and calm.
Julio fixed his eyes on Geronimo, and his heart was touched when he thought he heard him ask pardon of God for his enemies; but when the lips of the young man pronounced his own name in ardent supplication, and he distinctly heard his unfortunate victim praying for the soul of his murderer, Julio dropped his knife, and said, with a deep sigh: "My courage has forsaken me! I have not the strength to accomplish this cruel act." "Ah!" exclaimed Geronimo, as Julio pronounced these words, "it is a voice from heaven speaking to your heart.