which all the judges answered: "Oui,
oui; it is just!"'

And there arose vivats within doors and without; 'escort of three,' amid
shoutings and embracings: thus Jourgniac escaped from jury-trial and the
jaws of death. (Mon Agonie (ut supra), Hist. Parl. xviii. 128.) Maton
and Sicard did, either by trial, and no bill found, lank President Chepy
finding 'absolutely nothing;' or else by evasion, and new favour of
Moton the brave watchmaker, likewise escape; and were embraced, and wept
over; weeping in return, as they well might.

Thus they three, in wondrous trilogy, or triple soliloquy;
uttering simultaneously, through the dread night-watches, their
Night-thoughts,--grown audible to us! They Three are become audible: but
the other 'Thousand and Eighty-nine, of whom Two Hundred and Two were
Priests,' who also had Night-thoughts, remain inaudible; choked for ever
in black Death. Heard only of President Chepy and the Man in Grey!--

Chapter 3.1.VI.

The Circular.

But the Constituted Authorities, all this while? The Legislative
Assembly; the Six Ministers; the Townhall; Santerre with the National
Guard?--It is very curious to think what a City is. Theatres, to
the number of some twenty-three, were open every night during these
prodigies: while right-arms here grew weary with slaying, right-arms
there are twiddledeeing on melodious catgut; at the very instant when
Abbe Sicard was clambering up his second pair of shoulders, three-men
high, five hundred thousand human individuals were lying horizontal, as
if nothing were amiss.

As for the poor Legislative, the sceptre had departed from it. The
Legislative did send Deputation to the Prisons, to the Street-Courts;
and poor M. Dusaulx did harangue there; but produced no conviction
whatsoever: nay, at last, as he continued haranguing, the Street-Court
interposed, not without threats; and he had to cease, and withdraw. This
is the same poor worthy old M. Dusaulx who told, or indeed almost
sang (though with cracked voice), the Taking of the Bastille,--to our
satisfaction long since. He was wont to announce himself, on such and
on all occasions, as the Translator of Juvenal. "Good Citizens, you
see before you a man who loves his country, who is the Translator of
Juvenal," said he once.--"Juvenal?" interrupts Sansculottism: "who the
devil is Juvenal? One of your sacres Aristocrates? To the Lanterne!"
From an orator of this kind, conviction was not to be expected. The
Legi