When the day came the hall was crowded. In the front rank of the amphitheatre sat the king and queen, the latter wearing a plain dress trimmed with marten's fur and a Bearnese hood. Near them were the Cardinals De Grammont and De Foix with other members of the clergy. Around the royal pair were Margaret's inseparable maids of honour—Mademoiselle de St. Pather, the usual distributor of her alms, Mademoiselle de la Batenage, Blanche de Tournon, Françoise de Clermont, Madame d'Avangour, the greatest 'eaves-dropper' of the court, the chancellor, chamberlains, and almoners. Her ten stewards, her esquires and thirty-eight maids, her seventeen secretaries, and her twenty valets-de-chambre were most of them present.[78] The invited strangers occupied seats according to their rank. A first representation has rarely excited more curiosity. [Sidenote: THE MYSTERY-PLAY.] The first act begins. The scene is placed at Nazareth, in the house of a poor carpenter. A man in the prime of life and a young woman are talking together. A proclamation has just been published in the market-place ordering every one to go to the city of their family to be registered. But these poor people belong to Bethlehem, and Bethlehem is a long way from Nazareth. The woman is soon to become a mother, and the man is uneasy about the consequences of the journey. The young Israelitish woman, whose calm meek features indicate the serenity of a pious soul, says to him: ... Us no danger shall come nigh, For He whose power o'ershadowed me, Holds in his hand both fruit and tree.[79] The scene changes, and we are at Bethlehem. It is quite dark, but a few lights are visible through the windows of the houses. The same man and woman—they are Joseph and Mary—have just arrived from Nazareth after a fatiguing journey. Joseph, still anxious, begins: It is late and already night ... Let us approach the nearest light. He knocks at the door, and asks to be admitted. The owner of the house looks contemptuously on them and says that he lodges none but rich people. Joseph goes a little farther on and knocks at another door: Will you please lodge my wife and me? For the poor woman, as you see, Is near her time. This man looks as contemptuously upon them as the other, and answers that he takes in none but noblemen. Joseph, still undiscouraged, points out a third man to his wife and says: Here is a man with pleasant look. He speaks to him, but the man is a _bon vivant_, and is annoyed by the care-worn appearance of the travellers. 'I like,' he says, Dances, sports, women, good-cheer ... No kill-joys are wanted here. Pass on, my friends; Joseph, with a deep sigh: Onward then, and God will tell Where he pleases we should dwell. But wearied by the journey, and uneasy about her condition, Mary begins to change countenance: Woe's me, I feel the hour draw near For the long-looked-for fruit t'appear.