BOOK FIRST.
CHAPTER 2. PIERRE GRINGOIRE.
(continued)
"And, further on, at the Painters' Gate, there were other
personages, very richly clad."
"And at the fountain of Saint-Innocent, that huntsman,
who was chasing a hind with great clamor of dogs and hunting-horns."
"And, at the Paris slaughter-houses, stages, representing
the fortress of Dieppe!"
"And when the legate passed, you remember, Gisquette?
they made the assault, and the English all had their
throats cut."
"And against the gate of the Châtelet, there were very fine
personages!"
"And on the Port au Change, which was all draped above!"
"And when the legate passed, they let fly on the bridge
more than two hundred sorts of birds; wasn't it beautiful,
Liénarde?"
"It will be better to-day," finally resumed their interlocutor,
who seemed to listen to them with impatience.
"Do you promise us that this mystery will be fine?" said
Gisquette.
"Without doubt," he replied; then he added, with a certain
emphasis,--"I am the author of it, damsels."
"Truly?" said the young girls, quite taken aback.
"Truly!" replied the poet, bridling a little; "that is, to
say, there are two of us; Jehan Marchand, who has sawed the
planks and erected the framework of the theatre and the
woodwork; and I, who have made the piece. My name is
Pierre Gringoire."
The author of the "Cid" could not have said "Pierre Corneille"
with more pride.
Our readers have been able to observe, that a certain
amount of time must have already elapsed from the moment
when Jupiter had retired beneath the tapestry to the instant
when the author of the new morality had thus abruptly
revealed himself to the innocent admiration of Gisquette
and Liénarde. Remarkable fact: that whole crowd, so
tumultuous but a few moments before, now waited amiably
on the word of the comedian; which proves the eternal truth,
still experienced every day in our theatres, that the best
means of making the public wait patiently is to assure them
that one is about to begin instantly.
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