bees in a swarm.

He wished to pass on quickly to the castle, but could not, so he
had to see and hear for himself how the insurrection raged, and
the mob surrounded the coach of his Highness with loud cries, in
which nothing could be heard distinctly, but on one side "Kill
him!" and on the other, "Let him go!" This made Bishop Francis
wild with anger, and he wanted to jump out of the coach and beat
back the people, but Duke Philip gently restrained him. "See you
not," he said, "the people are sick? Hot words will increase their
sickness." Then he motioned to Mag. Reutzio, the court chaplain,
who sat in the coach, to admonish the crowd.

But the moment the reverend M. Reutzio put his head out of the
window to address them, the people shouted, "Down with the parson!
what is he babbling for. Dr. Cramer told us all that yesterday. We
want no parsons; kill them! kill them! Down with priests! down
with princes!" And they sprang upon the horses to cut the traces,
but the coachman and outriders slashed away right and left with
their horsewhips, so that the mob recoiled; and then with loud
shouts of "Make way! make way!" the coachman lashed his horses
forward into a gallop.

But behold, as they crossed the Shoe-strasse, a coarse, thick-set
woman knelt by the kennel with her daughter, a half-grown girl,
and they were drinking beer from a barrel like calves. This same
woman was knocked down by the foremost horse, so that she fell
into the gutter. Hereat she roared and cursed his princely Grace,
and flung the beer-can at him, but it fell upon the horse, who
grew wild, and dashed off in a mad gallop across the Shoe-strasse