When Confucius entered the gate of the ducal court, he bore himself with humble gravity, as though the gateway could scarce contain him. He would not stand in the center of the gateway, nor would he step upon the threshold. Passing by the ruler's seat, his countenance became solemn and his steps quickened, and his words seemed to fall short, as though his breath were insufficient. When he gathered up his robes to ascend the hall, he bowed low and held his breath, as if he had ceased to breathe altogether. Upon coming out, as he descended the first step, his expression would relax into one of quiet ease. At the foot of the stairs, he would advance with a swift and steady tread, his bearing open as wings in flight. Returning to his own place, he remained reverent and respectful in manner.