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On the grassy mounds and the broad tombstones sat
merry groups of townspeople, man and wife, children and
neighbors, eating their supper, while in the outskirts of the
party stood the ’prentice boy munching the delicious
Sunday sandwich, as he waited for the basket. Tiny children
tripped with hands full of broken food for the beggar
youngsters that hung on the wall. Lads thirsting for knowledge
spelled their way through the lengthy epitaphs, while father
listened full of admiration, and mother and the girls scanned
the dresses of the passers-by: for by this time the
gentlefolk were walking up and down in the broad paths. They
usually came a little later than the others, and either supped
at home or in one of the eating-houses in the gardens round
about.
Stately matrons and dainty maids, old councillors and
young officers, stout noblemen and foreign ministers, passed
in review. There went bustling, gray-haired Hans Nansen,
shortening his steps to the pace of the wealthy Villem
Fiuren and listening to his piping voice. There came
Cor-fits Trolle and the stiff Otto Krag. Mistress Ide Daa,
famed for her lovely eyes, stood talking to old Axel Urup,
who showed his huge teeth in an everlasting smile, while
the shrunken form of his lady, Mistress Sidsel Grubbe,
tripped slowly by the side of Sister Rigitze and the
impatient Marie. There were Gersdorf and Schack and
Thuresen of the tow-colored mane and Peder Retz with Spanish
dress and Spanish manners.
Ulrik Frederik was among the rest, walking with Niels
Rosenkrands, the bold young lieutenant-colonel, whose
French breeding showed in his lively gestures. When they
met Mistress Rigitze and her companions, Ulrik
Frederik would have passed them with a cold, formal greeting,
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