第8章 BOOK Ⅰ(5)

'Down with the six theologians in their white surplices！'

'Are those the theologians？I took them for the six white geese Sainte-Geneviéve pays to the Town as tribute for the fief of Roogny.'

'Down with the physicians！'

'Down with all the pompous and squabbling disputations！'

'Here goes my cap at thy head，Chancellor of Sainte-Geneviéve；I owe thee a grudge.He gave my place in the Nation of Normandy to little Ascaino Falzaspada，who as an Italian，belongs of right to the Province of Bourges.'

'Tis an injustice！'cried the scholars in chorus.'Down with the Chancellor of Sainte-Geneviéve！'

'Ho，there，M re Joachim de Ladehors！Ho，Louis Dahuille！Ho，Lambert Hoctement！'

'The devil choke the Procurator of the Nation of Germany！'

'And the chaplains of the Sainte-Chapelle in their gray amices；cum tunicis grisis！'

'Seu de pellibus grisis fourratis！'

'There go the Masters of Art！Oh，the fine red copes！and oh，the fine black ones！'

'That makes a fine tail for the Rector！'

'He might be the Doge of Venice going to espouse the sea.'

'Look，Jehan，the canons of Sainte-Geneviéve！'

'The foul fiend take the whole lot of them！'

'Abbè Claude Choart！Doctor Claude Choart，do you seek Marie la Giffarde？'

'You'll find her in the Rue Glatigny.'

'Bed-making for the King of the Bawdies！'

'She pays her fourpence—quatuor denarios.'

'Aut unum bombum.'

'Would you have her pay you with one on the nose？'

'Comrades！M re Simon Sanguin，the elector of the Nation of Picardy，with his wife on the saddle behind him.'

'Post equitem sedet atra cura.'11

'Good-day to you，Monsieur the Elector！'

'Good-night to you，Madame the Electress！'

'Lucky dogs to be able to see all that！'sighed Joannes de Molendino，still perched among the acanthus leaves of his capital.

Meanwhile the bookseller of the University，M re Andry Musnier，leaned over and whispered to the Court furrier，M re Gilles Lecornu：

'I tell you，monsieur，'tis the end of the world.Never has there been such unbridled license among the scholars.It all comes of these accursed inventions—they ruin everything—the artillery，the culverine，the blunderbuss，and above all，printing，that second pestilence brought us from Germany.No more manus—no more books！Printing gives the death-blow to bookselling.It is the beginning of the end.'

'I，too，am well aware of it by the increasing preference for velvet stuffs，'said the furrier.

At that moment it struck twelve.

A long-drawn'Ah！'went up from the crowd.

The scholars held their peace.There ensued a general stir and upheaval，a great shuffling of feet and movement of heads，much coughing and blowing of noses；everyone resettled himself，rose on tip-toe，placed himself in the most favourable position obtainable.Then deep silence，every neck outstretched，every mouth agape，every eye fixed on the marble table.Nothing appeared；only the four sergeants were still at their posts，stiff and motionless as four painted statues.Next，all eyes turned towards the platform reserved for the Flemish envoys.The door remained closed and the platform empty.Since daybreak the multitude had been waiting for three things—the hour of noon，the Flemish ambassadors，and the Mystery-Play.Noon alone had kept the appointment.It was too bad.They waited one，two，three，five minutes—a quarter of an hour—nothing happened.Then anger followed on the heels of impatience；indignant words flew hither and thither，though in suppressed tones as yet.'The Mystery，the Mystery！'they murmured sullenly.The temper of the crowd began to rise rapidly.The warning growls of the gathering storm rumbled overhead.It was Jehan du Moulin who struck out the first flash.

'Let's have the Mystery，and the devil take the Flemings！'he cried at the pitch of his voice，coiling himself about his pillar like a serpent.

The multitude clapped its approval.

'The Mystery，the Mystery！'they repeated，'and to the devil with all Flanders！'

'Give us the Mystery at once，'continued the scholar，'or it's my advice we hang the provost of the Palais by way of both Comedy and Morality.'

'Well said！'shouted the crowd，'and let's begin the hanging by stringing up his sergeants.'

A great roar of applause followed.The four poor devils grew pale and glanced apprehensively at one another.The multitude surged towards them，and they already saw the frail wooden balustrade that formed the only barrier between them and the crowd bulge and give way under the pressure from without.

The moment was critical.

'At them！At them！'came from all sides.

At that instant the curtain of the dressing-room we have described was raised to give passage to a personage，the mere sight of whom suddenly arrested the crowd，and，as if by magic，transformed its anger into curiosity.

'Silence！Silence！'

But slightly reassured and trembling in every limb，the person in question advanced to the edge of the marble table with a profusion of bows which，the nearer he approached，assumed more and more the character of genuflections.

By this time quiet had been gradually restored，and there only remained that faint hum which always rises out of the silence of a great crowd.

'Messieurs the bourgeois，'he began，'and Mesdemoiselles the bourgeoises，we shall have the honour of declaiming and performing before his Eminence Monsieur the Cardinal a very fine Morality entitled'The Good Judgment of Our Lady the Virgin Mary.'I play Jupiter.His Eminence accompanies at this moment the most honourable Embassy of the Duke of Austria，just now engaged in listening to the harangue of Monsieur the Rector of the University at the Porte Baudets.As soon as the Most Reverend the Cardinal arrives we will commence.'