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author | Dimitri Staessens <dimitri@ouroboros.rocks> | 2019-06-19 21:18:55 +0200 |
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committer | Dimitri Staessens <dimitri@ouroboros.rocks> | 2019-06-19 21:18:55 +0200 |
commit | 615d2211463e073a65b0de60c61ab1184b14b958 (patch) | |
tree | a7635aec59a689152061c00e8a462382112792f4 /themes/ananke/exampleSite/content/post/chapter-6.md | |
parent | 2a2311ea3fb1b89a266668bfd16aa96475fc183e (diff) | |
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diff --git a/themes/ananke/exampleSite/content/post/chapter-6.md b/themes/ananke/exampleSite/content/post/chapter-6.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c767196 --- /dev/null +++ b/themes/ananke/exampleSite/content/post/chapter-6.md @@ -0,0 +1,98 @@ +--- +date: 2017-04-14T11:25:05-04:00 +description: "Esmeralda" +featured_image: "/images/esmeralda.jpg" +tags: [] +title: "Chapter VI: Esmeralda" +--- +We are delighted to be able to inform the reader, that during the whole of +this scene, Gringoire and his piece had stood firm. His actors, spurred on +by him, had not ceased to spout his comedy, and he had not ceased to +listen to it. He had made up his mind about the tumult, and was determined +to proceed to the end, not giving up the hope of a return of attention on +the part of the public. This gleam of hope acquired fresh life, when he +saw Quasimodo, Coppenole, and the deafening escort of the pope of the +procession of fools quit the hall amid great uproar. The throng rushed +eagerly after them. “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. “Skip it,” said he, stoically. + +He approached a group of bourgeois, who seemed to him to be discussing his +piece. This is the fragment of conversation which he caught,— + +“You know, Master Cheneteau, the Hôtel de Navarre, which belonged to +Monsieur de Nemours?” + +“Yes, opposite the Chapelle de Braque.” + +“Well, the treasury has just let it to Guillaume Alixandre, historian, for +six hivres, eight sols, parisian, a year.” + +“How rents are going up!” + +“Come,” said Gringoire to himself, with a sigh, “the others are +listening.” + +“Comrades,” suddenly shouted one of the young scamps from the window, “La +Esmeralda! La Esmeralda in the Place!” + +This word produced a magical effect. Every one who was left in the hall +flew to the windows, climbing the walls in order to see, and repeating, +“La Esmeralda! La Esmeralda?” At the same time, a great sound of applause +was heard from without. + +“What’s the meaning of this, of the Esmeralda?” said Gringoire, wringing +his hands in despair. “Ah, good heavens! it seems to be the turn of the +windows now.” + +He returned towards the marble table, and saw that the representation had +been interrupted. It was precisely at the instant when Jupiter should have +appeared with his thunder. But Jupiter was standing motionless at the foot +of the stage. + +“Michel Giborne!” cried the irritated poet, “what are you doing there? Is +that your part? Come up!” + +“Alas!” said Jupiter, “a scholar has just seized the ladder.” + +Gringoire looked. It was but too true. All communication between his plot +and its solution was intercepted. + +“The rascal,” he murmured. “And why did he take that ladder?” + +“In order to go and see the Esmeralda,” replied Jupiter piteously. “He +said, ‘Come, here’s a ladder that’s of no use!’ and he took it.” + +This was the last blow. Gringoire received it with resignation. + +“May the devil fly away with you!” he said to the comedian, “and if I get +my pay, you shall receive yours.” + +Then he beat a retreat, with drooping head, but the last in the field, +like a general who has fought well. + +And as he descended the winding stairs of the courts: “A fine rabble of +asses and dolts these Parisians!” he muttered between his teeth; “they +come to hear a mystery and don’t listen to it at all! They are engrossed +by every one, by Chopin Trouillefou, by the cardinal, by Coppenole, by +Quasimodo, by the devil! but by Madame the Virgin Mary, not at all. If I +had known, I’d have given you Virgin Mary; you ninnies! And I! to come to +see faces and behold only backs! to be a poet, and to reap the success of +an apothecary! It is true that Homerus begged through the Greek towns, and +that Naso died in exile among the Muscovites. But may the devil flay me if +I understand what they mean with their Esmeralda! What is that word, in +the first place?—‘tis Egyptian!” |