When Kohlhaas arrived at the place of execution he found there the Elector of Brandenburg and his suite, among whom was the Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, halting on horseback, in the midst of an innumerable crowd of people.  On the sovereign’s right was the Imperial attorney, Franz Mueller, with a copy of the death sentence in his hand; on his left was his own attorney, the jurist Anton Zaeuner, with the decree of the Court Tribunal at Dresden.  In the middle of the half circle formed by the people stood a herald with a bundle of articles, and the two black horses, fat and glossy, pawing the ground impatiently.  For the Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich, had won the suit instituted at Dresden in the name of his master without yielding a single point to Squire Wenzel Tronka.  After the horses had been made honorable once more by having a banner waved over their heads, and taken from the knacker, who was feeding them, they had been fattened by the Squire’s servants and then, in the market-place in Dresden, had been turned over to the attorney in the presence of a specially appointed commission.  Accordingly when Kohlhaas, accompanied by his guard, advanced to the mound where the Elector was awaiting him, the latter said, “Well, Kohlhaas, this is the day on which you receive justice that is your due.  Look, I here deliver to you all that was taken from you by force at the Tronka Castle which I, as your sovereign, was bound to procure for you again; here are the black horses, the neck-cloth, the gold gulden, the linen—­everything down to the very amount of the bill for medical attention furnished your groom, Herse, who fell at Muehlberg.  Are you satisfied with me?”

Kohlhaas set the two children whom he was carrying in his arms down on the ground beside him, and with eyes sparkling with astonished pleasure read the decree which was handed to him at a sign from the Arch-Chancellor.  When he also found in it a clause condemning Squire Wenzel Tronka to a punishment of two years’ imprisonment, his feelings completely overcame him and he sank down on his knees at some distance from the Elector, with his hands folded across his breast.  Rising and laying his hand on the knee of the Arch-Chancellor, he joyfully assured him that his dearest wish on earth had been fulfilled; then he walked over to the horses, examined them and patted their plump necks, and, coming back to the Chancellor, declared with a smile that he was going to present them to his two sons, Henry and Leopold!

The Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, looking graciously down upon him from his horse, promised him in the name of the Elector that his last wish should be held sacred and asked him also to dispose of the other articles contained in the bundle, as seemed good to him.  Whereupon Kohlhaas called out from the crowd Herse’s old mother, whom he had caught sight of in the square, and, giving her the things, said, “Here, grandmother, these belong to you!”