eschaqueils, pipes, flutes, and flageolets.

In a large round tent were some tumblers, who could not have equalled

our present climbers of the Pyrenees--Dulma, Bordenave, and

Meylonga--who from the peak of Pierrefitte descend to the plateau of

Limaçon, an almost perpendicular height. There was a travelling

menagerie, where was to be seen a performing tiger, who, lashed by the

keeper, snapped at the whip and tried to swallow the lash. Even this

comedian of jaws and claws was eclipsed in success.

Curiosity, applause, receipts, crowds, the Laughing Man monopolized

everything. It happened in the twinkling of an eye. Nothing was thought

of but the Green Box.

"'Chaos Vanquished' is 'Chaos Victor,'" said Ursus, appropriating half

Gwynplaine's success, and taking the wind out of his sails, as they say

at sea. That success was prodigious. Still it remained local. Fame does

not cross the sea easily. It took a hundred and thirty years for the

name of Shakespeare to penetrate from England into France. The sea is a

wall; and if Voltaire--a thing which he very much regretted when it was

too late--had not thrown a bridge over to Shakespeare, Shakespeare might

still be in England, on the other side of the wall, a captive in insular

glory.

The glory of Gwynplaine had not passed London Bridge. It was not great

enough yet to re-echo throughout the city. At least not at first. But

Southwark ought to have sufficed to satisfy the ambition of a clown.

490

The Man Who Laughs