reets make the reflection of forge
windows stand out so red on the opposite walls. A big dog gravely seated
in the ashes was turning a spit loaded with meat before the coals.

Great as was the confusion, after the first glance one could distinguish
in that multitude, three principal groups which thronged around three
personages already known to the reader. One of these personages,
fantastically accoutred in many an oriental rag, was Mathias Hungadi
Spicali, Duke of Egypt and Bohemia. The knave was seated on a table with
his legs crossed, and in a loud voice was bestowing his knowledge of
magic, both black and white, on many a gaping face which surrounded him.
Another rabble pressed close around our old friend, the valiant King of
Thunes, armed to the teeth. Clopin Trouillefou, with a very serious air
and in a low voice, was regulating the distribution of an enormous cask
of arms, which stood wide open in front of him and from whence poured
out in profusion, axes, swords, bassinets, coats of mail, broadswords,
lance-heads, arrows, and viretons,* like apples and grapes from a horn
of plenty. Every one took something from the cask, one a morion, another
a long, straight sword, another a dagger with a cross--shaped hilt. The
very children were arming themselves, and there were even cripples in
bowls who, in armor and cuirass, made their way between the legs of the
drinkers, like great beetles.

* An arrow with a pyramidal head of iron and copper spiral
wings, by which a rotatory motion was communicated.

Finally, a third audience, the most noisy, the most jovial, and the most
numerous, encumbered benches and tables, in the midst of which harangued
and swore a flute-like voice, which escaped from beneath a heavy armor,
complete from casque to spurs. The individual who had thus screwed a
whole outfit upon his body, was so hidden by his warlike accoutrements
that nothing was to be seen of his person save an impertinent, red,
snub nose, a rosy mouth, and bold eyes. His belt was full of daggers and
poniards, a huge sword on his hip, a rusted cross-bow at his left, and a
vast jug of wine in front of him, without reckoning on his right, a fat
wench with her bosom uncovered. All mouths around him were laughing,
cursing, and drinking.

Add twenty secondary groups, the waiters, male and female, running with
jugs on their heads, gamblers squatting over taws, merelles,* dice,
vachettes, the ardent game of tringlet, quarrel