| BOOK TENTH.
CHAPTER 5. THE RETREAT IN WHICH MONSIEUR LOUIS OF FRANCE SAYS HIS PRAYERS.
 (continued)"Sire, a sorceress was condemned to death by your court of
 parliament.  She took refuge in Notre-Dame.  The people are
 trying to take her from thence by main force.  Monsieur the
 provost and monsieur the chevalier of the watch, who have
 just come from the riot, are here to give me the lie if this is
 not the truth.  The populace is besieging Notre-Dame." "Yes, indeed!" said the king in a low voice, all pale and
 trembling with wrath.  "Notre-Dame!  They lay siege to our
 Lady, my good mistress in her cathedral!--Rise, Olivier.
 You are right.  I give you Simon Radin's charge.  You are
 right.  'Tis I whom they are attacking.  The witch is under
 the protection of this church, the church is under my protection.
 And I thought that they were acting against the bailiff!
 'Tis against myself!" Then, rendered young by fury, he began to walk up and
 down with long strides.  He no longer laughed, he was
 terrible, he went and came; the fox was changed into a hyaena.
 He seemed suffocated to such a degree that he could not
 speak; his lips moved, and his fleshless fists were clenched.
 All at once he raised his head, his hollow eye appeared full
 of light, and his voice burst forth like a clarion: "Down with
 them, Tristan!  A heavy hand for these rascals!  Go, Tristan,
 my friend! slay! slay!" This eruption having passed, he returned to his seat, and
 said with cold and concentrated wrath,-- "Here, Tristan!  There are here with us in the Bastille
 the fifty lances of the Vicomte de Gif, which makes three
 hundred horse: you will take them.  There is also the company
 of our unattached archers of Monsieur de Châteaupers: you
 will take it.  You are provost of the marshals; you have the
 men of your provostship: you will take them.  At the Hôtel
 Saint-Pol you will find forty archers of monsieur the
 dauphin's new guard: you will take them.  And, with all
 these, you will hasten to Notre-Dame.  Ah! messieurs, louts
 of Paris, do you fling yourselves thus against the crown of
 France, the sanctity of Notre-Dame, and the peace of this
 commonwealth!  Exterminate, Tristan! exterminate! and let
 not a single one escape, except it be for Montfauçon." |