But the people had been as heavily visited as at Nismes, and were in no mood for jesting.

When he began to vend his nostrums, an old man of severe aspect held up his hand, and said: "Peace, unfeeling man--you bring your senseless ribaldry to the wrong market.

Here are only lamentations, and mourning, and woe." "My good sir, one must live," said La Croisette.
"And how?
tell me that!" retorted the old man, indignantly.

"They that fed delicately are desolate in the streets; they that were clad in scarlet are cast on dunghills; the tongue of the suckling child cleaves to the roof of its mouth for thirst; the young children ask for bread, and no man giveth unto them." Then, with a wail that was almost like a howl, he tore his hair and cried, "For this, for this mine eyes run down with water and mine eyelids take no rest.

Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by ?" "Jean, I cannot stand this," said La Croissette, as the old man hurried away.