This same representation which had been begun amid so unanimous an acclamation! Eternal flood and ebb of popular favor! To think that they had been on the point of hanging the bailiff's sergeant! What would he not have given to be still at that hour of honey! But the usher's brutal monologue came to an end; every one had arrived, and Gringoire breathed freely once more; the actors continued bravely.
But Master Coppenole, the hosier, must needs rise of a sudden, and Gringoire was forced to listen to him deliver, amid universal attention, the following abominable harangue.
"Messieurs the bourgeois and squires of Paris, I don't know, cross of God! what we are doing here.

I certainly do see yonder in the corner on that stage, some people who appear to be fighting.

I don't know whether that is what you call a "mystery," but it is not amusing; they quarrel with their tongues and nothing more.

I have been waiting for the first blow this quarter of an hour; nothing comes; they are cowards who only scratch each other with insults.

You ought to send for the fighters of London or Rotterdam; and, I can tell you! you would have had blows of the fist that could be heard in the Place; but these men excite our pity.