sity city of Leipsic, the
latter laden with all sorts of symbols of knowledge. Next came Plutus,
the god of Wealth, followed by Freiberg miners bearing large specimens
of silver ore in buckets and baskets; and, lastly, Mars, the god of War,
leading by a long chain two camels on which rode captive and fettered
Turks.

During these spectacles, which were followed by other similar ones,
Barbara had been thinking of her own affairs, and gazed more frequently
at her lover and his distinguished guests than at the former.

But the next group interested her more because it seemed to honour the
Emperor's taste for astronomy, of which he had often talked with her.

On a long cart, drawn by powerful stallions, appeared a gigantic
firmament in the shape of a hemisphere, on whose upper surface the sun,
moon, and stars were seen shining in radiant light. The moon passed
through all her changes, the sun and planets moved, and from the dome
echoed songs and lute-playing, which were intended to represent the
music of the spheres. Another chorus was heard from a basket of flowers
of stupendous size. Among the natural and artificial blossoms sat and
lay upon leaves and in the calyxes of the flowers child genii, who flung
to the Emperor beautiful bouquets, and into the laps and at the feet of
the ladies in the tent smaller ones and single flowers.

Barbara, too, did not go with empty hands. The Cupid who had thrown
his to her was the little Maltese Hannibal, who sang with other boys as
"Voices of the Flowers," and later was to take part in the great chorus.

This friendly remembrance of her young fellow-artist cheered Barbara,
and when a fight began, which was carried on by a dozen trained
champions brought from Strasburg expressly for this purpose, she turned
her attention to it.

At first this dealing blows at one another with blunt weapons offered
her little amusement; but when shouts from the tent and the stands
cheered the men from the Mark, and powerful blows incensed to fury those
who were struck, the scene began to enthral her.

A handsome, agile youth, to her sincere regret, had just fallen, but
swiftly recovered his elasticity, and, springing to his feet, belaboured
his opponent, a clumsy giant, so skilfully and vigorously that the
bright blood streamed down his ugly face and big body. Barbara's cheeks
flushed with sympathy. That was right. Skill and grace ought everywhere
to conquer hideous rude force.

If she had been