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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.
Coppenole proudly saluted his eminence, who returned the salute of the all-powerful bourgeois feared by Louis XI. Then, while Guillaume Rym, a "sage and malicious man," as Philippe de Comines puts it, watched them both with a smile of raillery and superiority, each sought his place, the cardinal quite abashed and troubled, Coppenole tranquil and haughty, and thinking, no doubt, that his title of hosier was as good as any other, after all, and that Marie of Burgundy, mother to that Marguerite whom Coppenole was to-day bestowing in marriage, would have been less afraid of the cardinal than of the hosier; for it is not a cardinal who would have stirred up a revolt among the men of Ghent against the favorites of the daughter of Charles the Bold; it is not a cardinal who could have fortified the populace with a word against her tears and prayers, when the Maid of Flanders came to supplicate her people in their behalf, even at the very foot of the scaffold; while the hosier had only to raise his leather elbow, in order to cause to fall your two heads, most illustrious seigneurs, Guy d'Hymbercourt and Chancellor Guillaume Hugonet.
Further on here is the word ypo. Is it Greek, then? Close by here is rym and puy, and jox, and phetoz, and jyggay, and mv, and qruz. And before that we have got red and let. That is good! those are two English words. Then ohe syk; then rym once more, and then the word oto." Judge Jarriquez let the paper drop, and thought for a few minutes. "All the words I see in this thing seem queer!" he said.
It was Louis XI. At some distance behind them, two men dressed in garments of Flemish style were conversing, who were not sufficiently lost in the shadow to prevent any one who had been present at the performance of Gringoire's mystery from recognizing in them two of the principal Flemish envoys, Guillaume Rym, the sagacious pensioner of Ghent, and Jacques Coppenole, the popular hosier.
Then he began to read them promptly, one after the other, made a sign to Master Olivier who appeared to exercise the office of minister, to take a pen, and without communicating to him the contents of the despatches, he began to dictate in a low voice, the replies which the latter wrote, on his knees, in an inconvenient attitude before the table. Guillaume Rym was on the watch.
Nevertheless, people must do me this justice, that I spend still less money on it than they did, and that I possess a greater modesty of lions, bears, elephants, and leopards. Go on, Master Olivier. We wished to say thus much to our Flemish friends." Guillaume Rym bowed low, while Coppenole, with his surly mien, had the air of one of the bears of which his majesty was speaking.
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.
Ah! my good people! here you are aiding me at last in tearing down the rights of lordship!" Then turning towards the Flemings: "Come, look at this, gentlemen. Is it not a fire which gloweth yonder?" The two men of Ghent drew near. "A great fire," said Guillaume Rym. "Oh!" exclaimed Coppenole, whose eyes suddenly flashed, "that reminds me of the burning of the house of the Seigneur d'Hymbercourt.
What say you, Master Guillaume Rym?" "Monseigneur," replied Guillaume Rym, "let us be content with having escaped half of the comedy. There is at least that much gained." "Can these rascals continue their farce?" asked the bailiff. "Continue, continue," said the cardinal, "it's all the same to me. I'll read my breviary in the meantime."
"Croix-Dieu!" resumed Coppenole, thoroughly unhappy at being obliged to lower his voice thus, "I should like to sit down on the floor, with my legs crossed, like a hosier, as I do in my shop." "Take good care that you do not, Master Jacques." "Ouais! Master Guillaume! can one only remain here on his feet?" "Or on his knees," said Rym. At that moment the king's voice was uplifted.
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