ary! 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!"

BOOK SECOND.

CHAPTER I. FROM CHARYBDIS TO SCYLLA.

Night comes on early in January. The streets were already dark when
Gringoire issued forth from the Courts. This gloom pleased him; he was
in haste to reach some obscure and deserted alley, in order there to
meditate at his ease, and in order that the philosopher might place the
first dressing upon the wound of the poet. Philosophy, moreover, was his
sole refuge, for he did not know where he was to lodge for the night.
After the brilliant failure of his first theatrical venture, he
dared not return to the lodging which he occupied in the Rue
Grenier-sur-l'Eau, opposite to the Port-au-Foin, having depended
upon receiving from monsieur the provost for his epithalamium, the
wherewithal to pay Master Guillaume Doulx-Sire, farmer of the taxes on
cloven-footed animals in Paris, the rent which he owed him, that is
to say, twelve sols parisian; twelve times the value of all that he
possessed in the world, including his trunk-hose, his shirt, and his
cap. After reflecting a moment, temporarily sheltered beneath the little
wicket of the prison of the treasurer of the Sainte-Chappelle, as to the
shelter which he would select for the night, having all the pavements of
Paris to choose from, he remembered to have noticed the week previously
in the Rue de la Savaterie, at the door of a councillor of the
parliament, a stepping stone for mounting a mule, and to have said to
himself that that stone would furnish, on occasion, a very excellent
pillow for a mendicant or a poet. He thanked Providence for having sent
this happy idea to him; but, as he was preparing to cross the Place,
in order to reach the tortuous labyrinth of the city, where meander
all those old sister streets, the Rues de la Barillerie, de la
Vielle-Draperie, de la Savaterie, de la Juiverie, etc., still extant
to-day, with their nine-story houses, he saw the procession of the Pope
of the Fools, which was also emerging from the court house, and rushing
across the courtyard, with great cries, a great flashing of torches, and
the music which belonged to him, Gringoire. This sight revived the
pain of his self-love; he fled. In the bitterness of his dramatic
m