A collision between the two parties seemed inevitable. On February 8 (1534), the enthusiasts, believing themselves strong enough, took up arms and suddenly seized the great square; the evangelicals remaining masters of the walls and the gates of the city. The latter were the stronger party, and many talked of making an attack with artillery upon the fanatical multitude and of expelling the intruders from the town. While the most prudent men were engaged in deliberation, the _illuminés_ had the strangest visions. 'I see,' said one, 'a man with a golden crown; in one hand he holds a sword, in the other a rod.' Many declared that 'the town was filled with ruddy-brown flames, and that the horseman of the Apocalypse, mounted on a white horse, was advancing, conquering and to conquer.' The good pastor Fabritius, whom they had scandalously insulted, pleaded on behalf of them. He entreated that the mad ones should be leniently dealt with. In other quarters it was expected that there would be a vigorous resistance and great slaughter. Men of conciliatory disposition would fain avoid shedding the blood of their fellow-citizens; and some were afraid that the bishop, who was near with his troops, would take advantage of the conflict to get possession of the town.[511] Two proposals were made to the visionaries; liberty secured to both sides in matters of religion, but submission to the magistrates in civil matters. This was a victory for the enthusiasts; they were triumphant, and 'their countenances,' says one of themselves, 'became of a magnificent color.'[512] [Sidenote: A MOURNFUL SPECTACLE.]