"Good," he said to himself, "there go all the mischief-makers." Unfortunately, all the mischief-makers constituted the entire audience.

In the twinkling of an eye, the grand hall was empty.
To tell the truth, a few spectators still remained, some scattered, others in groups around the pillars, women, old men, or children, who had had enough of the uproar and tumult.

Some scholars were still perched astride of the window-sills, engaged in gazing into the Place.
"Well," thought Gringoire, "here are still as many as are required to hear the end of my mystery.

They are few in number, but it is a choice audience, a lettered audience." An instant later, a symphony which had been intended to produce the greatest effect on the arrival of the Virgin, was lacking.

Gringoire perceived that his music had been carried off by the procession of the Pope of the Fools.