waxed, how hastily he put on the icy, forbidding bearing he was wont to
wear, as he rated me for a wilful simpleton who would undo her brother's
weal!

It was now St. Susannah's day--[August 11th]--We were bidden to the
tourney. Duke Ernest of Austria had challenged Duke Kanthner of Oels in
Silesia to meet him in the lists and, besides the glory to be gained,
there was a prize of sixty and four gold pieces. Other knights also were
to joust in the ring.

Queen Barbara, of her grace, had bidden me attend with her ladies. At
the jousting-place I found Ann; her mother had remained at home by reason
that the old mother was sick. My faithful Uncle Christian Pfinzing, who
played the host to the Emperor and Empress at the Castle as representing
the town council, had brought his "dear watchman" hither and placed her
in the keeping of certain motherly dames. Presently, seeing a moment
when she might speak with me, Ann said in my ear: "I will end this sport,
Margery; I can no longer endure it. He hath sworn to renounce all and
everything that may keep us apart!" There was no time for more. Each
one had to take his seat. As yet their Majesties were not come, and
there was time to gaze about.

The lists were in the midst of the market-place. The benches were decked
with hangings, the lords and ladies who filled them, the feathers waving,
the sparkle of jewels, the glitter of gold and silver, the sheen of silk
and velvet, the throng of common folk, head over head in the topmost
places, the music and uproar, nay, the very savor of the horses dwell
still in my mind; yet far be it from me to write of things well-known to
most men.