Now is she in the right position; he steps back, and raising the knout,
brings it down upon Eleonore's back with such accuracy that it takes off
a strip of skin from her neck to her girdle. Then he swings the knout
anew, with the same accuracy and the same result. In a few moments her
skin hangs in shreds over her girdle, her whole form is dripping with
blood, and the shuddering spectators venture not a single bravo for this
dexterous executioner.
The work is finished! With a flayed back Eleonore is raised upon the
shoulders of the executioner. She has not screamed, she has not moaned,
she has remained dumb and without complaint, but she has prayed to God
for vengeance and expiation for the shame inflicted upon her.
And again advances the executioner, with a pair of pincers in his hand.
Eleonore looks at him through eyes flaming with anger.
"What would you?" she coldly asks.
"Tear out your tongue!" answers he, with a rude laugh. Two of the
executioner's assistants then seizing her, grasp her head.
This time Eleonore defends herself--despair lends her strength. Freeing
herself from the grasp of these barbarous executioners, she falls upon
her knees, and, raising her bloody arms toward heaven, implores the
mercy of God: glancing at the spectators, she implores their pity and
their aid; turning her eyes toward the proud imperial palace, where
Elizabeth sits enthroned, she begs there for grace and mercy.
But as all remained silent, and as neither God nor man, nor yet the
empress, had mercy upon her, a wild rage took possession of Eleonore's
soul.
Raising her eyes toward heaven with flaming glances, she exclaimed: "Woe to this merciless Elizabeth! Woe to this woman who has no
compassion for another woman! What she now does to me, do Thou also to
her, my God and Lord! Grant that she be flayed as she has now flayed
me! Grant her a daughter, and let that daughter before her mother's eyes
suffer what I now suffer, O my God! Woe to Elizabeth, and woe to you,
ye cowardly slaves, who can look on and see a woman flayed and tortured!
Shame and perdition to Russia and its Empress Elizabeth!"
These were Eleonore's last words. With a wild rage her executioners
seized her for the purpose of tearing out her tongue. And when that was
accomplished, and her husband and son had suffered a similar martyrdom,
all three were placed upon a kibitka, to be conveyed to Siberia.
Eleonore could no longer speak with her tongue, but her eyes spoke,
and those eyes continued to repeat the prayer for vengeance she had
addressed to Heaven: "Grant to this Empress Elizabeth a daughter, and
let that daughter's sufferings be like mine."