For the jibes (brocards) of those Parisians, who stand planted in two rows, all the way to St.Denis, and 'give vent to their pleasantry, the characteristic of the nation,' do not tempt one to slacken.

Towards midnight the vaults of St.Denis receive their own; unwept by any eye of all these; if not by poor Loque his neglected Daughter's, whose Nunnery is hard by.
Him they crush down, and huddle under-ground, in this impatient way; him and his era of sin and tyranny and shame; for behold a New Era is come; the future all the brighter that the past was base..