BOOK FIRST.
CHAPTER 2. PIERRE GRINGOIRE.
(continued)
A brief silence ensued--broken by the stranger.
"It is a perfectly new morality, and one which has never
yet been played."
"Then it is not the same one," said Gisquette, "that was
given two years ago, on the day of the entrance of monsieur
the legate, and where three handsome maids played the
parts--"
"Of sirens," said Liénarde.
"And all naked," added the young man.
Liénarde lowered her eyes modestly. Gisquette glanced at
her and did the same. He continued, with a smile,--
"It was a very pleasant thing to see. To-day it is a morality
made expressly for Madame the Demoiselle of Flanders."
"Will they sing shepherd songs?" inquired Gisquette.
"Fie!" said the stranger, "in a morality? you must not
confound styles. If it were a farce, well and good."
"That is a pity," resumed Gisquette. "That day, at the
Ponceau Fountain, there were wild men and women, who
fought and assumed many aspects, as they sang little motets
and bergerettes."
"That which is suitable for a legate," returned the stranger,
with a good deal of dryness, "is not suitable for a princess."
"And beside them," resumed Liénarde, "played many brass
instruments, making great melodies."
"And for the refreshment of the passers-by," continued
Gisquette, "the fountain spouted through three mouths,
wine, milk, and hippocrass, of which every one drank who
wished."
"And a little below the Ponceau, at the Trinity," pursued
Liénarde, "there was a passion performed, and without
any speaking."
"How well I remember that!" exclaimed Gisquette; "God
on the cross, and the two thieves on the right and the left."
Here the young gossips, growing warm at the memory of
the entrance of monsieur the legate, both began to talk at
once.
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