Chapter 3 Notre Dame Cathedral (1) Volume 1 Hall (2)

The thick table top has been scratched all over by the heels of the secretaries of the Judicial Palace over time. Now a rather high wooden cage has been erected, and the upper end board can be seen in the entire hall. as a stage.The cage is surrounded by curtains, and the inside is used as a dressing room for the characters in the play.Outside, there is a ladder that connects the stage and the dressing room. The actors climb up and down the sturdy steps when they enter and exit.Randomly assigned characters, mechanism settings, and sudden changes in the plot, there is nothing that is not arranged to enter the stage from this ladder.How innocent and respectable is this newborn child of dramatic art and stage equipment!

The four chief catchers of the Palace of Justice, who are obliged to watch over the reckless crowd on festivals or execution days, are standing at the four corners of the marble table. The performance did not start until the bell of the Palace of Justice struck twelve noon.It is undoubtedly too late for acting, but you have to take care of the time of the envoys. However, many, many spectators have been waiting since early in the morning.Among these honest spectators, many of them were waiting in front of the big steps of the Palace of Justice at dawn, shivering from the cold; some even said that they had already leaned in the middle of the gate in order to get in first when it opened. I stayed up all night lying on my back.The crowd increased every moment, and like a stream of water above the water level, it began to rise along the walls, to rise around the columns, to cover the capitals, cornices, window sills, all protrusions of buildings and all protrusions of sculpture. part.As a result, the crowd felt uncomfortable, irritable, and bored. Besides, this day can go its own way and mess around as it pleases. Weary, all this made the crowd very dissatisfied, not to mention that they were imprisoned here, surrounded by people, crowded, crushed, and couldn't even breathe, so they didn't wait for the appointed time for the arrival of the envoys. , the noise of the crowd has long since become sharp and pungent.There was only murmuring and cursing, and the Flemish, the governor, the cardinal of Bourbon, the magistrate of the palace of justice, the princess Marguerite of Austria, the prisoner with the rod, the cold weather, the hot weather , the wind and the rain, the Bishop of Paris, the Mad Pope, the pillar, the statue, this closed door, that open window, in short, cursed everything.The crowds of students and servants who were scattered about the crowd were delighted to hear this, and stirred up the disaffected crowd with teasing, sarcasm, and almost fueling the general bad mood.

There was another group of troublemakers who first smashed a glass window to get in, and boldly climbed to sit on the top of the pillar, condescending, looking around, sometimes mocking the crowd in the hall inside, and sometimes mocking the crowd in the square outside.Watching their antics, listening to their loud laughs and shouts of teasing with their peers at the other end of the hall, it was immediately clear that these young students were not as bored and tired as the rest of the audience. , is very good at discovering a wonderful scene from the scene under his nose, so as to pass the time and patiently wait for another play to be staged.

"I swear, it's you, John Frollo de Morandino!" cried one of them, "you're called John of the Mill, and you're called John of the Mill, look at your arms, look at you Those two legs are like four wind wings whirling in the wind. How long have you been here?" The one called Mill was a blond-haired kid with a pretty face and mischievous demeanor. Sitting on the leaf board. "Damn it, it's been more than four hours!" replied John Frollo, "I hope that I will go to hell in the future. These four hours can be counted in my purgatory time. The eight choir boys of the King of Sicily sang High Mass at seven o'clock in the Holy Chapel. I caught up with the first One mile."

"That's a splendid choir," went on the other, "with a voice shriller than their hats! But the King should have asked, before he gave Mass to His Excellency St. John, whether His Excellency St. John would like to listen to it." A Latin hymn sung with a Provençal accent.” "That's why the King is doing this to hire this damned choir of the King of Sicily!" screamed an old woman in the crowd under the window. "I'm asking everyone! Mass costs a thousand Paris Livre! This money is paid out of the seafood contract tax in the Paris vegetable market!"

"Shut up, old lady." A serious fat man stood beside the fishwoman, covered his nose, and then said, "What if we don't hold a mass? You don't want the king to be in trouble again, do you?" "Well said, Mr. Gilles Le Corny, you are a big man who specializes in fur goods for the king to make furs!" the little student who climbed on the bracket shouted.All the boys burst out laughing at the unfortunate name of the poor furrier. "Le Corny! Gilles Le Corny!" some shouted. "Horned and prickly!" cried another. "Hey!" went on the little rascal on the top of the column, "what's so funny about the surname Le Corny? Your Honor Gilles Le Corny, brother of Duke John Le Corny, Steward of the Court, chief keeper of the Garden of Vincent. The sons of Lord Maier Leconi, the magistrate, are all citizens of Paris, and from father to son, all are married."

Everyone was overjoyed to hear it.The plump-eared furrier made no answer, trying desperately to avoid the eyes that were cast on him from all directions; though he was sweating and out of breath, it was in vain: like a wedge sunk deep in the wood, The harder he tried, the tighter he got stuck. The more he struggled, the more his big head was clamped between the shoulders of the people on the left and right. He was angry and annoyed, and his blood-congested face turned purple. At last one of the gang stepped forward to save him, a stout, short man as respectable as a furrier. "Sin, sin! Some students speak disrespectfully to a citizen like this! Back then, if a student dared to be so disrespectful, he would have to be beaten with firewood sticks first, and then burned alive with firewood sticks."

The group of students suddenly exploded with anger. "Ho-la-la! Who's making the noise? Which unlucky tomcat?" "Hey, I know him, he's André Mousnier's husband," someone said. "He's one of four sworn booksellers at the University," interjected another. "In our grocery store, everything is divided into four: four school districts, four colleges, four festivals, four academic administrations, four electors, and four booksellers." Another said. "Then it's time to turn the whole thing upside down!" continued John Frollo.

"Musenière, we're going to burn your books!" "Musenière, we're going to beat up your footman!" "Musenière, we need to rub your wife well!" "My lovely sister Udad!" "Delicate and coquettish as a little widow!" "To hell with you all!" murmured André Musnier. "Mr. Andri, shut your beak, or watch me fall and hit your head." John, who had been hanging on the top of the column, took over the conversation. Mrs. Andri raised his eyes and watched for a while, as if he was estimating the height of the pillar, the weight of the narrow ghost, and silently calculated the square of gravity multiplied by acceleration, and then he dared not make a sound.

John became the master of the field, and pursued the victory: "Although I am the younger brother of the archdeacon, I still have to do this." "Noble gentlemen, scholars of the school! On a day like today, our privileges are not respected! Putting aside other things, look, there are May trees and fireworks in the new city, and St. Miraculous dramas, mad popes, and envoys of Flanders, and our university town has nothing!" "But our Mobile Square is big enough!" cried a student lying on the window sill. "Down with Xuezheng! Down with elected director! Down with Xuezheng!" John shouted.

"Let's use Andri's husband's book to set off fireworks in Gaia Square tonight!" Another yelled. "There is also a desk for Xuelu!" said the one next to him. "And the prison's stick!" "And the senior's spittoon!" "And Xuezheng's cupboard!" "There is also the bread box of the director!" "And Xuedong's little bench!" "Down!" Little John continued to shout, "Down with Mr. Andri! Down with the Prison and Xuelu! Down with the theologians, doctors, and scribes! Down with Xuezheng, election directors, and school directors!" "This is really the end of the world!" Andri's husband plugged his ears and muttered. "Oh! Xuedong is here! He is walking through the square." A person standing on the window sill suddenly shouted. Everyone scrambled to turn their heads to look at the square. "Is it really our venerable Master Thibault?" asked Windmill John Frollo, for he was clinging to a post inside and could not see what was going on outside. "Yes, yes, it's him, it's him: learn from Mr. Dong Thibault!" Sure enough, the school director and all the school officials lined up to meet the mission, and they were passing through the Square of the Palace of Justice at the moment.The students crowded in front of the window, sneered, applauded, and welcomed them.Xuedong walked in the front, and was first scolded for a while, and the scolding was terrible. "Hello, Mr. Xuedong! Ho--la--hey! You're polite, hello!" "What's the matter here, old gambler? He's willing to throw the dice?" "Look at the way he trots on his mule! The mule's ears aren't as long as his!" "Ho-la-hey! Hello, Mr. Thibault! Tebow the gambler! Old fool! Old gambler!" "God bless you! You rolled a lot of double sixes last night, didn't you?" "Oh! Look at his old face, livid, thin, and haggard. It's all because of his love of gambling and throwing dice!" "Dice-throwing Tebow, where are you going with your ass turned towards University City and your haste towards New Town?" "Certainly go to Thibautide Street and get a room and enjoy yourself!" cried John the Windmill. When everyone heard this, they applauded fiercely and repeated this witty pun like thunder. "Mr. Dong, you devil's gambler, you're going to open a room in Thibtorney Street, aren't you?" Then it was the turn of the other school officials. "Down with the prison! Down with the staff!" "Tell me, Robin Puspin, who is that man?" "It's Guibert de Suil, student at the Guibert de Suis Autin College." "Take it, this is one of my shoes: your position is more convenient than mine, take it and throw it in his face." "I'll tell you to taste your fill tonight!" "Down with six theologians and their white robes!" "Are those people theologians? I thought it was the six big white geese that Saint-Gereviève of Paris gave to the fief of Looney!" "Down with the doctor!" "Down with endless doctrinal disputes and theological debates!" "Here you are, my hat, the schoolmaster of Saint-Gereviève! You've done me a disservice by favoritism—it's true! He took my place in the Normandy school district and gave it to the little one." Ascanio Farzapada, because he is Italian, from the Bourges." "What an injustice!" cried the students in unison. "Down with the Xuezheng of Saint-Gereviève!" "Ho-he! Monsieur Joachim de Ladeo! Ho-he! Louis Darul! Ho-he! Louis Darul! Ho-he! Lambert Hautemont !" "Let the devil strangle the Xuezheng of the German School District!" "And the priests of St. Chapel and their gray capes; gray capes!" "Or, those in gray-haired cassocks!" "Ho-la-hey! Maestros! All beautiful black cloaks! All beautiful red cloaks!" "It happens to be Xuedong's beautiful tail!" "It's like a Grand Duke of Venice going to catch a wedding at sea!" "Look, John! The priests at Saint-Gereviève!" "To hell with priests!" "Master Claude Chauard of the monastery! Dr. Claude Chauard! Are you looking for that slut Marie Giffard?" "She's in the Rue de Gratini." "She's making the bed for the lecherous king." "She sells four deniers." "Here comes a swarm of bees." "Do you want her to sell you in front of you?" "Students! The husband of Picardy's election director, Simon Sangan, is here. He took his wife and let her sit on the buttocks of the mule." "Behind the rider sits black worry." "Don't be afraid, husband Simon!" "Good morning, choose Mr. Dong!" "Good night, choose Mrs. Dong!" "They must be glad to see it all!" sighed John of the Mill, who had been perched high on the lamellas of the vault. At this moment, the husband of André Musnier, the sworn bookseller in the University City, leaned over and whispered into the ear of the husband of the royal furrier Gilles Leconi: "I'll tell you, sir, it's the end of the world. I've never seen such escapades from schoolboys. It's one of those goddamn inventions of the century that ruin everything. Cannons, snakes, mortars. , and especially printing, another plague from Germany! No more manuscripts, no more books! Printing has ruined the engraving industry. The end of the world has come!" "I can see it from the development of velvet," the furrier replied. At this moment, twelve noon struck. "Ha!..." The whole crowd shouted in unison.The students were also silent.Then there was a furious commotion, a flurry of shuffling and head bobbing, an explosion of coughing and sneezing; everyone managed to settle down, take their places, stand on tiptoe, gather in groups; then silence; Neck, mouth open, all eyes on the marble table.The table was still empty, only the four chief catchers of the pawns had been standing there, their bodies straight and motionless, like four painted statues.Everyone turned their attention to the stands reserved for the Flemish envoys.The door to the stands was still closed, and there was no one on the stage. The crowd had been eagerly awaiting three events since early morning: noon, the Flemish mission, and the Miracle Play.Only when noon comes on time.