A wedding was to take place.

The bridegroom was one of the Council--Lienhard Groland.
The marriage was to be a very quiet one--the bridegroom's father lay seriously ill.

Yet there could have been no greater throng at the Emperor's nuptials.

I stood in the midst of the crowd.

A rosary dropped from the belt of the fat wife of a master workman--she was decked out like a peacock--and fell just in front of me.