up?... They look like a couple
of swallows from here....

--God help us! said the Pope beside himself and looking up.... She must
have gone mad! She's going to kill herself.... Come down, you fool!...

Well! there was nothing she would have liked better ... but how? The
stairs were not to be entertained, you could climb them alright, but
coming down was a different story; there were a hundred different ways
to break your legs.... The poor mule was very distressed, and wandered
about the platform, her huge eyes spinning from vertigo, and
contemplated Tistet Vedene,

--Well, you swine, if I get out of this alive ... tomorrow morning will
bring you such a kicking!

The thought of revenge revitalised her; without it she couldn't
possibly have held on. At last, somebody managed to bring her down, but
it was quite a struggle needing ropes, a block and tackle, and a
cradle. Imagine what a humiliation it was for a Pope's mule to find
herself hanging from a great height, legs thrashing about like a fly
caught in a web. Just about everyone in Avignon was there to witness it.

The unhappy creature could no longer sleep at nights. She imagined that
she was still spinning round on the cradle, with the whole town below
laughing at her. Then her mind turned to the despicable Tistet Vedene
and the really good kicking that she was going to give him the very
next morning. Oh, what a hell of a kicking that was going to be! The
dust would be seen flying from far away.... Now, while the stable was
being prepared for her, what do you think our Tistet Vedene was up to?
He was sailing down the Rhone, if you please, singing on a papal galley
on his way to the court at Naples, accompanying the troupe of young
nobles who were sent there by the town to practice their diplomacy and
good manners in Italy. Tistet was no nobleman, but the Pope insisted on
rewarding him for his care of the mule, particularly for the part he
had just played in her rescue.

So, it was the mule who was disappointed the next day.

--Oh, the swine, he has got wind of something! she thought shaking her
bells furiously...; but that's alright, go away if you must, you
mischief-maker, you will still get your kicking when you get back.... I
will save it for you!

And save it for him, she did.

After Tistet's departure, the Pope's mule returned to her tranquil life
and ways of the old times. No more Quiquet, or Beluguet in the stable.
The happy days of wine _a la franc