As soon as he could recover his wits he cried out:
'Have thy wish, poor soul! an thou had poisoned a hundred men thou
shouldst not suffer so miserable a death.'
The prisoner bowed his face to the ground and burst into
passionate expressions of gratitude- ending with:
'If ever thou shouldst know misfortune- which God forbid!- may thy
goodness to me this day be remembered and requited!'
Tom turned to the Earl of Hertford, and said:
'My lord, is it believable that there was warrant for this man's
ferocious doom?'
'It is the law, your grace- for poisoners. In Germany coiners be
boiled to death in oil- not cast in of a sudden, but by a rope let
down into the oil by degrees, and slowly; first the feet, then the
legs, then-'
'Oh, prithee, no more, my lord, I cannot bear it!' cried Tom,
covering his eyes with his hands to shut out the picture. 'I beseech
your good lordship that order be taken to change this law- oh, let
no more poor creatures be visited with its tortures.'
The earl's face showed profound ratification, for he was a man
of merciful and generous impulses- a thing not very common with his
class in that fierce age.
He said:
'These your grace's noble words have sealed its doom. History will
remember it to the honor of your royal house.'
The under-sheriff was about to remove his prisoner; Tom gave him a
sign to wait; then he said:
'Good sir, I would look into this matter further. The man has said
his deed was but lamely proved.
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