How well may we estimate the ills which England has suffered
for the last forty years through the ill-temper of these irritable and
malicious spirits! The ancient Britons were warlike; these are
melancholy and learned. They glory in despising the laws and contemning
royal authority. I have done all that human eloquence can do. I have
been prodigal of metonymics, as gracious as the blooming cheek of youth.
Were they softened by them? I doubt it. What can affect a people who eat
so extraordinarily, who stupefy themselves by tobacco so completely that
their literary men often write their works with a pipe in their mouths?
Never mind. Let us begin the play."

The rings of the curtain were heard being drawn over the rod. The
tambourines of the gipsies were still. Ursus took down his instrument,
executed his prelude, and said in a low tone: "Alas, Gwynplaine, how
mysterious it is!" then he flung himself down with the wolf.

When he had taken down his instrument, he had also taken from the nail a
rough wig which he had, and which he had thrown on the stage in a corner
within his reach. The performance of "Chaos Vanquished" took place as
usual, minus only the effect of the blue light and the brilliancy of the
fairies. The wolf played his best. At the proper moment Dea made her
appearance, and, in her voice so tremulous and heavenly, invoked
Gwynplaine. She extended her arms, feeling for that head.

Ursus rushed at the wig, ruffled it, put it on, advanced softly, and
holding his breath, his head bristled thus under the hand of Dea.

Then calling all his art to his aid, and copying Gwynplaine's voice, he
sang with ineffable love the response of the monster to the call of the
spirit. The imitation was so perfect that again the gipsies looked for
Gwynplaine, frightened at hearing without seeing him.

Govicum, filled with astonishment, stamped, applauded, clapped his
hands, producing an Olympian tumult, and himself laughed as if he had
been a chorus of gods. This boy, it must be confessed, developed a rare
talent for acting an audience.

Fibi and Vinos, being automatons of which Ursus pulled the strings,
rattled their instruments, composed of copper and ass's skin--the usual
sign of the performance being over and of the departure of the people.

Ursus arose, covered with perspiration. He said, in a low voice, to
Homo, "You see it was necessary to gain time. I think we have succeeded.
I have not acquitted myself badly--I, who