The lowly Swiss merchant's unknown guest slept more comfortably than did the Duke of Styria.
When we went down to supper, I could see the effort it cost Max to sit at table with these good people.

But the struggle was not very great; five months before it would have been impossible.

At Hapsburg he sat at table with his father and mother only; even I had never sat with him in the castle.

At Basel he was sitting with a burgher and a burgher's frau.
In Styria he ate boar's meat from battered silver plate and drank sour wine from superannuated golden goblets; in Switzerland he ate tender, juicy meats and toothsome pastries from stone dishes and drank rich Cannstadt beer from leathern mugs.

His palate and his stomach jointly attacked his brain, and the horrors of life in Hapsburg appeared in their true colors.
On the morning of our second day at Basel, Franz invited us to be his guests during our sojourn in the city.