The town was early afoot, for the wedding party of the Sieur de Gurdun was to come in; and Gurdun belonged to the Archbishop, and the Archbishop to the Duke.

The bride also was reported unwilling, which added zest to the public appetite for her known beauty.

Some knew for truth that she was the cast-off mistress of a very great man, driven into Gurdun's arms to dispose of scandal and of her.

'Eh, the minion!' said certain sniggering old women to whom this was told, 'she'll not find so soft a lap at Gurdun!' But others said, 'Gurdun is the Duke's, and will one day be the Duke's son's.

What will Sieur Gilles do then with his straining wife?
You cannot keep your hawk on the cadge for ever--ah, nor hood her for ever!' And so on.
All this points to some public excitement.