cry rose:
"They are corning!"--yet did I not gaze at their Majesties, to whom the
day and festival belonged, but only sought him who was mine--my own.

There they are! close before us.--The Emperor and his noble wife, Queen
Barbara, the still goodly daughter of the great Hungarian Count of
Cilly.

Aye! and he looks the man to rule six realms; worthy to stand at the
head of the great German nation. He might be known among a thousand
for an Emperor, and the son of an Emperor! How straight he sits in his
saddle, how youthful yet is the fire in his eye, albeit he has past his
fiftieth birthday! High spirit and contentment in his look; and meseems
he has forgotten that he ever summoned the Diet to meet at Ratisbon and
is entering the gates of Nuremberg against his will, by reason that
the Electors and German princes have chosen to assemble there. His wife
likewise is of noble mien, and she rides a white palfrey which, as she
draws rein, strives to turn its pink nostrils to greet the bay horse on
which her lord is mounted.

Yet do my eyes not linger long on the lordly pair; they wander down the
long train of Knights wherein he is coming, though among the last. For
a moment they rest on the stalwart forms of the Hungarian nobles,
all blazing with jewels even to the harness of the steeds; and
glance unheedingly at the Electors and Princes, the Dukes, Counts and
Knights-all in velvet and silk, gold and silver; at the purple and
scarlet of the prelates; at the solemn black with gold chains of the
town councillors; on and beyond all the magnificent train which has come
with his Majesty from Hungary or gone forth to meet him.

Hereupon Ursula steps forth to speak the address; but sooner may a man
hear a cricket in a thunderstorm than a maid's voice amid that pealing
of bells and shouting and cries of welcome. Meseems verily as though the
fluttering handkerchiefs, the flying pennons, and the caps waved in the
air had found voice; and Ursula turns her head to this side and that as
though seeking help.

Emperor Sigismund signs with his hand, and the two heralds who head the
train uplift their trumpets with rich embroidered banners. A rattling
blast procures silence: in a moment it is as though oil were poured on
a surging sea. Men and guns are hushed; the only sounds to be heard
are the brazen tongue of the bells, the whinnying of a horse, the dull
mutter of men's voices in the far-off lanes and alleys, and the clear
voice of a