The journey from halsingborg to Stockholm seemed endless. Three of four hundred miles of snow lay between them. We spent the nights in noblemens houses. They always wanted to dance after dinner, when I only wanted to go to bed.

By day we broke our journey at various towns. There was always a public ceremony. I liked the childrens songs, but I hated the speeches.

During one of them, I Said to Brahe: "I wish I could understand Swedish."

"Your Highness," he replied in a whisper, "the gentleman is speaking French!"

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