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And fame reporteth, scarcely secretly;
Tremendous judges! I accuse the Master
Of falsehood, murder, heresy, and treason."

Here the accuser knelt before the book.
And laid his hand upon the crucifix;
And with an oath confirmed his story's truth,
By God, and by the Saviour's agony.
He ceased. The judges arbitrate the cause.
But not by open voice or still discourse;
Scarce by a glance of eye, or sign of hand,
Their deep and dreadful thought communicate.
Each in his turn approached him to the throne,
And with the dagger's point o'erturned the leaves,
Of the Order's book, and silent read the law.
Inquiring sentence of his conscience only.
And having judged, his hand lays on his heart,
And all in concord raised the cry of "Woe!"
With threefold echo then the walls repeated,
"Woe!"—In that word alone, that single word,
A sentence lies! The arraigners understood.
Twelve swords were raised aloft; one aim was
theirs—
Destined to Konrad's heart. Then all departed
In gloomy silence, and the walls behind.
Repeated with a fearful echo: "Woe!"