Reinhard, who seems to have somewhat resembled Carlstadt in his unsteady and restless temper, arrived at Copenhagen in December, 1520.[227] The king assigned him the church of St. Nicholas to preach in. The inhabitants of Copenhagen, eager to become acquainted with the new doctrine, flocked in crowds to the church. But the orator spoke German, and his hearers knew nothing but Danish. He appealed therefore to Professor Eliæ, who agreed to translate his discourses. Master Martin, vexed at finding that he was not understood, tried to make up for what was wanting by loudness of voice and frequent and violent gestures.[228] The astonished hearers understood nothing, but wonderingly followed with their eyes those hurried movements of the arms, the hands, the head, and the whole body. The priests who were casting about for some means of damaging the foreigner, caught at this circumstance, began to mock this ridiculous gesticulation, and stirred up the people against the German orator. Consequently, when he entered the church, he was received with sarcasm, with grimaces, and almost with hootings.[229] The clergy resolved to do even more. There was at Copenhagen a fellow notorious for his cleverness in mimicking in an amusing way any body’s air and actions and speech. The canons of St. Mary prevailed on him by a large reward, and engaged him regularly to attend the preaching of Martin Reinhard, to study his gestures, the expression of his features, and the intonations of his voice. In a short time this fellow succeeded in imitating the accent, the voice, the gestures of Reinhard. Henceforth the burlesque mimic became an indispensable guest at all banquets. He used to appear on these occasions in a costume like that of the doctor; grave salutations were made to him, and he was called _Master Martin_. He delivered the most high-flown speeches on the most profane topics, and accompanied them with gestures so successful that, on seeing and hearing the caricature, you seemed to see and hear the master of arts himself.[230] He threw out his arms right and left, upward and downward, and filled the air with the piercing or prolonged tones of the orator. At table, they gorged him with meats and wine, in order to make him more extravagant still. He was taken from quarter to quarter, and from street to street, and repeated everywhere his comic representations. It was the time of the Carnival, when nothing was cared for but buffoonery, and the people responded to the declamations of the mimic by great bursts of laughter. ‘This was done,’ adds the chronicle, ‘for the purpose of extinguishing the light of the Gospel which God himself had kindled.’