that which is below yawns. Darkness demands its change to light; the

damned discuss the elect. Behold! it is the coming of the people, the

ascent of mankind, the beginning of the end, the red dawn of the

catastrophe! Yes, all these things are in this laugh of mine, at which

you laugh to-day! London is one perpetual fête. Be it so. From one end

to the other, England rings with acclamation. Well! but listen. All that

you see is I. You have your fêtes--they are my laugh; you have your

public rejoicings--they are my laugh; you have your weddings,

consecrations, and coronations--they are my laugh. The births of your

princes are my laugh. But above you is the thunderbolt--it is my laugh."

How could they stand such nonsense? The laughter burst out afresh; and

now it was overwhelming. Of all the lava which that crater, the human

mouth, ejects, the most corrosive is joy. To inflict evil gaily is a

contagion which no crowd can resist. All executions do not take place on

the scaffold; and men, from the moment they are in a body, whether in

mobs or in senates, have always a ready executioner amongst them, called

sarcasm. There is no torture to be compared to that of the wretch

condemned to execution by ridicule. This was Gwynplaine's fate. He was

stoned with their jokes, and riddled by the scoffs shot at him. He stood

there a mark for all. They sprang up; they cried, "Encore;" they shook

with laughter; they stamped their feet; they pulled each other's bands.

The majesty of the place, the purple of the robes, the chaste ermine,

the dignity of the wigs, had no effect. The lords laughed, the bishops

laughed, the judges laughed, the old men's benches derided, the

children's benches were in convulsions. The Archbishop of Canterbury

nudged the Archbishop of York; Henry Compton, Bishop of London, brother

863

The Man Who Laughs