Think how you would like that, Sir Jocelyn?
Think what you would feel, if you stood there on that infamous post, a
spectacle to the base and shouting rabble, with a paper fastened to your
breast, setting forth your crimes, and acquainting all that you were a
Star-Chamber delinquent?"
"Enough, Sir," interrupted Sir Jocelyn.
"Ay, enough--more than enough," rejoined the other; "but I cannot spare
you the whole of the recital, however painful it may be to you. My own
sufferings will be yours, if you heed not. So I shall go on. In robbing
me of my ears, the executioner had only half done his work. He had still
further to deface the image of his Maker,--and he hesitated not in his
task. No savage in the wilds could have treated his deadliest enemy
worse than he treated me; and yet the vile concourse applauded him, and
not a word of pity escaped them. My sentence was fully carried out; my
features for ever disfigured; and the letters of shame indelibly stamped
upon my cheek. You may read them there now if you will look at me."
"You thrill me with horror," said Sir Jocelyn.
"Ay, mine is not a mirthful history, though that fiend in human form,
Sir Giles, hath often laughed at it," rejoined the promoter. "It might
make you shudder, and perchance move you to tears, if you could hear it
all; but for the present, I shall confine myself to such portions of it
as bear upon your own perilous position--and I therefore hold myself out
as a lesson to you.
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