The slang men, not a very musical race, still clung to the goat's horn trumpet and the Gothic rubebbe of the twelfth century.

The Empire of Galilee was not much more advanced; among its music one could hardly distinguish some miserable rebec, from the infancy of the art, still imprisoned in the _re-la-mi_.

But it was around the Pope of the Fools that all the musical riches of the epoch were displayed in a magnificent discord.

It was nothing but soprano rebecs, counter-tenor rebecs, and tenor rebecs, not to reckon the flutes and brass instruments.

Alas! our readers will remember that this was Gringoire's orchestra.
It is difficult to convey an idea of the degree of proud and blissful expansion to which the sad and hideous visage of Quasimodo had attained during the transit from the Palais de Justice, to the Place de Greve.