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In so doing you will perform a gallant deed to our Lady, and I swear to you that I am greatly terrified at the idea of being hanged!" So saying, the unhappy Gringoire kissed the king's slippers, and Guillaume Rym said to Coppenole in a low tone: "He doth well to drag himself on the earth. Kings are like the Jupiter of Crete, they have ears only in their feet."
In less than an instant, the chapel was crowded with competitors, upon whom the door was then closed. Coppenole, from his post, ordered all, directed all, arranged all. Guillaume Rym was the only one who noticed his eminence's discomfiture.
My father, Charles the Seventh, was accustomed to say that the truth was ailing; I thought her dead, and that she had found no confessor. Master Coppenole undeceiveth me." Then, laying his hand familiarly on Coppenole's shoulder, "You were saying, Master Jacques?" "I say, sire, that you may possibly be in the right, that the hour of the people may not yet have come with you."
This gleam of hope acquired fresh life, when he saw Quasimodo, Coppenole, and the deafening escort of the pope of the procession of fools quit the hall amid great uproar. The throng rushed eagerly after them. "Good," he said to himself, "there go all the mischief-makers." Unfortunately, all the mischief-makers constituted the entire audience. In the twinkling of an eye, the grand hall was empty.
Cross of God! hosier; that's fine enough. Monsieur the Archduke has more than once sought his gant* in my hose." * Got the first idea of a timing. Laughter and applause burst forth. A jest is always understood in Paris, and, consequently, always applauded. Let us add that Coppenole was of the people, and that the auditors which surrounded him were also of the people.
"Cross of God! monseigneur the cardinal," said Coppenole, without quitting Clopin's hand, "he's a friend of mine." "Good! good!" shouted the populace. From that moment, Master Coppenole enjoyed in Paris as in Ghent, "great favor with the people; for men of that sort do enjoy it," says Philippe de Comines, "when they are thus disorderly." The cardinal bit his lips.
But Master Coppenole, the hosier, must needs rise of a sudden, and Gringoire was forced to listen to him deliver, amid universal attention, the following abominable harangue. "Messieurs the bourgeois and squires of Paris, I don't know, cross of God! what we are doing here. I certainly do see yonder in the corner on that stage, some people who appear to be fighting.
"That may be, sire; in that case, 'tis because the people's hour hath not yet come." Guillaume Rym considered it incumbent on him to intervene, "Master Coppenole, you are speaking to a puissant king." "I know it," replied the hosier, gravely. "Let him speak, Monsieur Rym, my friend," said the king; "I love this frankness of speech.
And running his eye over the missive and breaking his reading with interjection: "Surely! the Germans are so great and powerful, that it is hardly credible But let us not forget the old proverb: 'The finest county is Flanders; the finest duchy, Milan; the finest kingdom, France. Is it not so, Messieurs Flemings?" This time Coppenole bowed in company with Guillaume Rym.
"Say rather," retorted the cardinal, with a smile, "Porcos ante Margaritam, swine before the pearl." The whole little court in cassocks went into ecstacies over this play upon words. The cardinal felt a little relieved; he was quits with Coppenole, he also had had his jest applauded.
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