ely carried to the imperial quarters. The further
arrangements and manifold ceremonies occupied, in the interim, the
chief persons, as well as the spectators, in the church, as we other
well-informed persons could well imagine.

In the meanwhile before our eyes the ambassadors ascended to the
Romer, from which the canopy is carried by the under-officers into the
imperial quarters. The Hereditary Marshal, Count von Pappenheim,
instantly mounts his horse; he was a very handsome slender gentleman,
whom the Spanish costume, the rich doublet, the gold mantle, the high
feathered hat, and the loose flying hair, became very well. He puts
himself in motion, and amid the sound of all the bells, the
ambassadors follow him on horseback to the quarters of the Emperor in
still greater magnificence than on the day of election. One would
have liked to be there too, as indeed on this day it would have been
altogether desirable to multiply one's self. However, we told each
other what was going on there. Now the Emperor is putting on his
domestic robes, we said a new dress, and after the old Carolingian
pattern. The hereditary officers receive the insignia, and with them
get on horseback. The Emperor in his robes, the Roman King in the
Spanish habit, immediately mount their steeds; and while this is done,
the endless procession which precedes them has already announced them.

The eye was already wearied by the multitude of richly-drest
attendants and magistrates, and by the nobility who, in stately
fashion, were moving along; but when the electoral envoys, the
hereditary officers, and at last, under the richly-embroidered canopy,
borne by twelve Schoffen and senators, the Emperor, in romantic
costume, and to the left, a little behind him, in the Spanish dress,
his son, slowly floated along on magnificently adorned horses, the eye
was no more sufficient for the sight. One would have liked to detain
the scene, but for a moment, by a magic charm; but the glory passed on
without stopping, and the space that was scarcely quitted was
immediately filled again by the crowd, which poured in like billows.

But now a new pressure took place; for another approach from the
market to the Romer gate had to be opened, and a road of planks to be
bridged over it, on which the train returning from the cathedral was
to walk.

What passed within the cathedral, the endless ceremonies which
precede and accompany the anointing, the crowning, the dubbing of