Time would fail me to tell of the throng behind these princes. Counts and Freiherrs were there, and all the deputies of the imperial cities, all manner of captains, canons, doctors, and consequential burghers, ambassadors of France, England, Venice, noble foreigners and ignoble interlopers. It was hard for the Imperial ushers to keep a decent space cleared around the very throne of majesty. Glancing upward as I entered, I saw a lattice-work above the hall, and behind it were moving the garments, and at times flashing the eyes of women. Could I distinguish the face of Marianna? or the sombre robes of a nun? Conjectures were vain at that moment. Amsdorf and I stood with the other late comers near the doorway. The halberdiers opened their ranks, Pappenheim went forward, and following him moved the friar of Wittenberg--alone. Standing on the first step of the dais, and facing the defendant, was a man of imposing presence, clad in black, Johann von Eck,[13] the “Official” of the Bishop of Worms and appointed as imperial interrogator in the hearings. Hardly had the first whisper and rustle caused by our coming passed, hardly had Luther ended his dutiful reverence before the throne, when I saw the pale young Kaiser nod to his spokesman. Silent enough was that hall when Eck began his questioning. Speaking first in Latin for the learned, then in German for the less lettered, he recapitulated what had befallen at the former audience: how Dr. Luther had been given ample time now for a final answer touching the charges against him. Every Christian should give a reason for his faith, much more a learned theologian like Luther; and now was the time for “the Herr Doctor to answer plainly whether he stood by the contents of his books, or whether he was ready to recant them.” You could have heard a hair fall in that assembly when Luther began his reply. Well though I knew him, I marvelled at his calmness. He answered as deliberately as when he spoke to his students in Wittenberg. His voice was clear, not shrill, and through it rang strength and sweetness. He looked from Emperor upon princes; from princes upon Emperor, as upon his peers, yet bravado was not in him. Ere he had spoken three sentences I said in my heart, and hundreds said with me, “It is well. God is with him. He will triumph.” A second time he bowed to the Emperor, then likewise to the closely packed Estates. “Gracious Lord Emperor, and most serene Electors and Princes,” I give his words as I recall them, “I crave your mercy if by my uncourtly speech I do offend. For I am peasant-born and peasant-bred, and untaught to stand before those whom God has set over the nations. Nevertheless, since this is a matter of conscience, and touches even the salvation of many souls, I will make bold to speak before you, and I know that in your benignity you will pardon my rude tongue.” So far the peasant’s son to the Emperor, then he fixed his eyes right steadily on the Official.