—"Zimabolo!"
—"Bimbolo!"
—"Zimabolo!"
—"Et zimbolo!"
—"Et bolo-po!"
—sing the Devil and his chorus. His chant is cavernous, abysmal,—booms from his chest like the sound of a drum beaten in the bottom of a well.... Ti maillelà, baill moin lavoix! ("Give me voice, little folk,—give me voice!") And all chant after him, in a chanting like the rushing of many waters, and with triple clapping of hands:—"Ti marmaille-là, baill moin lavoix!"... Then he halts before a dwelling in the Rue Peysette, and thunders:—
—"Eh! Marie-sans-dent!—mi! diabe-là derhò!"
That is evidently a piece of spite-work: there is somebody living there against whom he has a grudge.... "Hey! Marie-without-teeth! look! the Devil is outside!" And the chorus catch the clue.
DEVIL.—"Eh! Marie-sans-dent!"...
CHORUS.—"Marie-sans-dent! mi!—diabe-là derhò!"