In the meantime they had reached the Augustinian monastery, where Luther lived. Two wayfarers, who had doubtless asked help of the Doctor, were coming out of the door; for no one in Wittenberg was so frequently sought out by the poor and needy, as was the Professor with his salary of 22 thalers and 12 groschen. He gave his last coin, and when that was spent, he did not spare the silver cup, which had been a gift from the Elector. "Come, let us wish the Doctor a good day," said Kranach. "I desire to thank him for his sermon." They crossed the court, and passing through a long, dark passage, reached Luther's cell. They found him sitting at his table--a large pile of letters before him. He received his friends with evident pleasure. "Welcome, dear friends! See here--my Sunday-guests, who see to it that Doctor Martin shall have no rest even on this blessed day. They all seem to be wedding-guests. Yes, you may well stare--to-day all my friends would have me marry. Here is a letter from my good friend, Mistress Argula von Grumbach, who with many words urges me to establish by my own act my doctrine of priestly marriage, and by my own example to encourage others. Here is another from Pastor Link in Altenburg. He announces the birth of a daughter. Here again, my father resumes his old litany, and speaks with such moving words, that methinks I must reach out after the first maiden I can find. Now tell me, dear friends, are not these merry Sunday-guests?" Lucas Kranach answered earnestly: "Perhaps they are God's messengers to you, Martin. Your friends are in danger of losing faith in your teachings, if you continue in your present course." Luther shook his head, where the tonsure had almost disappeared under his curly hair.