as though such cloths should cost nothing. And I, Sir John
Froissart, author of this history, was present and saw all this and had
great wonder where such number of cloths of silk were gotten; there was
as great plenty as though they had been in Alexandria or Damascus; and
all the houses on both sides of the great street of Saint-Denis were
hanged with cloths of Arras of divers histories, the which was pleasure
to behold."

At the "bridge of Paris," hard by Notre-Dame, fresh wonders awaited the
queen. A master tumbler, from Genoa, "had tied a cord on the highest
house of the bridge of Saint-Michael over all the houses, and the other
end was tied on the highest tower in Our Lady's church. And as the Queen
passed by, and was in the street called Our Lady's street, because it
was late, this said master with two burning candles in his hands issued
out of a little stage that he had made on the height of Our Lady's
tower, and singing he went upon the cord all along the great street, so
that all saw him and had marvel how it might be." This tumbler, dressed
as an angel, gave another crown to Isabeau, and then mounting skyward
disappeared through a slit in the canopy over the bridge, as if he were
returning to heaven.

In the great Cathedral of Notre-Dame, Isabeau was crowned, saying, says
Froissart,--not without an equivocation of which he himself was
doubtless quite unconscious,--"what prayers she pleased." But the
festivities were not over; we have omitted many a detail given by
Froissart plays and dumb shows presenting indiscriminately the sacred
histories of Scripture and the legends of French heroes, castles full of
mock monsters, representations of the entire heavenly hierarchy and of
the dream which had suggested to Charles the emblem of the flying hart.
With gay balls at night and jousts and miracle plays by day, the
celebration was continued for several days. The merchants of Paris
presented to the queen and to Valentine Visconti, the new Duchess of
Orleans, most costly jewels, rich sets of plate, in gold and silver,
cups, and salvers, and dishes of gold, "whereat everyone marvelled
greatly," and the royal pair were greatly pleased.

Who was to pay for all the display in this entry of the queen? The
citizens of Paris had fondly hoped that, what with their show of loyal
joy and their presents,--aggregating some sixty thousand crowns in
gold,--the king would be pleased to remit certain oppressive taxes. On
the contra