Mark!

He now strode forward, followed by the two pages with their empty baskets.
But these baskets were soon filled, for at each step forward a hand was
stretched out to the count, handing him a written petition, and the count
took it smilingly, and with distinguished indifference cast it into one of
the proffered baskets. But before those who had come without written
requests, and entreated a gracious personal hearing, the Stadtholder
paused, and they began hurriedly, and with embarrassment, because they
feared being heard by their neighbors, to state their wishes. It seldom
happened, however, that the count allowed them to speak to the end,
interrupting them in the midst of their speech with a hasty, "Commit it to
writing! commit it to writing!" and striding on with the same lofty
bearing, the same proud, imperturbable equanimity. Only when he neared the
spot where stood the delegates of the citizens of Berlin and Cologne a
cloud overshadowed his brow, and a flash of anger shot from his eyes.

He stopped before the burgers, and looked at them with an expression of
cold, scornful repose.

"What do you want of me?" he asked.

"Help in our need, most gracious excellency," began the spokesman, "pity
for our misfortunes! We can not pay the new war tax, we--"

"Ah! just see," the count interrupted him mockingly; "now you come to me,
to sue for my favor. Your visit, then, to his Electoral Grace, has been in
vain. The Elector has not granted the shameless petition of the
citizenship; he has not encroached upon the rights of the Stadtholder
appointed by himself to rule here in his stead. You have thought to