But in a marvellous manner the intended death of the three men failed of accomplishment. Martinitz and Fabricius were uninjured by the fall, and Slawata was not so much injured by this as by striking against the window-mouldings and by blows received in his struggles to release himself. The feeling of the secretary, when he found himself fortunately lying near the two noblemen, was not so much one of gratitude to God, as of chagrin and astonishment that he, an insignificant official, should have received like treatment with the noble-born Regents. He gave utterance to this feeling in his first words, for turning towards Martinitz he inquired: “What have I then done to them that they should have thrown me out?” Martinitz answered: “It is not a time, Herr Philip, to put such a question and await the answer of the Estates. As you are the most vigorous of us, we had better just get up, help Herr Slawata, and carry him into the neighboring house of the Chancellor’s wife.” He had scarcely said this when several shots came down. With boundless amazement their antagonists looked from the windows upon the spectacle which was passing before them in the moat. In most of them the earlier excitement had yielded to a more thoughtful bearing; but others would not be satisfied short of accomplishing the murder, and shot from the windows into the moat. Slawata and Fabricius were not touched by a shot. Martinitz was grazed by three balls, though but slightly injured. Now came, however, the servants of the Regents, running into the moat to rescue their lords from their sad plight. Some were driven back by the ceaseless firing; in the case of others, courage rose with danger; they ran to their lords, and were followed in this by some bold and magnanimous friends. Before these reached them, Fabricius had risen;
