"Off with your hat!"
"Down with your head!"
"Sit down!"
"Lie down!"
This revival of curiosity expressing itself in invectives evidently betokened the crisis of the show. And indeed the chapters of canons, the clergy and bishops, the pages and chamberlains, the representatives of the city, and the gentlemen of the king's chamber now appeared, and finally the king himself, who, bare-headed and carrying a taper, followed the magnificent statue of the Virgin. The contrast was striking: after the grey-headed monks and pale novices came brilliant young captains, affronting heaven with the points of their moustaches, riddling the latticed windows with killing glances, following the procession in an absent-minded way, and interrupting the holy hymns with scraps of most unorthodox conversation.
"Did you notice, my dear Doria, how like a monkey the old Marchesa d'Acquasparta takes her raspberry ice?"
"Her nose takes the colour of the ice. What fine bird is showing off to her?"
"It is the Cyrenian."
"I beg your pardon! I have not seen that name in the Golden Book."
"He helps the poor marquis to bear his cross."