This passage is remarkable as being the cause of Boileau's first appearance at court, of which further mention will be made. This episode is the jewel of the whole poem. Burlesque becomes tiresome when long drawn: though there are verses interspersed throughout full of sarcasm the most pointed, and ridicule the most happy, we are fatigued by a sort of monotony of tone, and the unvarying spirit of parody or irony that reigns throughout. The third canto is taken up by the enterprise of the three, who enter the sacristy to seize upon the _Lutrin_. Night has brought an owl, and hid it in the desk, whose sudden appearance terrifies the heroes, who are about to fly, till Discord rallies them, and they pursue the adventure, carry the desk in triumph, and place it in its ancient place before the seat of the chanter. The book concludes with an address to the latter, apostrophising the grief that will seize him when, on the morrow, the insult will be revealed. The fourth book contains the discovery--the rage of the chanter--his resolution to destroy the desk--the assembling of the chapter--their indignation--and it concludes with the destruction of the _Lutrin_, and its being carried off piecemeal. At first the poem consisted only of these four books. Boileau announced, that "reasons of great importance prevented his publishing the whole;" but the fact was, that only four books were at that time written. The fifth book describes the meeting of the inimical parties, and a battle that ensued. Both prelate and chanter, rushing to the _chapelle_, encounter each other, near the shop of Barbin, a bookseller: they eye each other with fury, till a partisan of the chanter, unable to suppress his rage, seizes a ponderous volume--the "Great Cyrus" of mademoiselle Scuderi--hurls it at Boirude, who avoids the blow, and the vast mass assails poor Sidrac: the old man, "accablé de l'horrible Artamène," falls, breathless, at the feet of the bishop. This is a signal for a general attack: they rush into the shop, disfurnish the shelves, and hurl the volumes at one another. In naming the books thus used, Boileau indulges in satirical allusions to contemporary authors, and exclaims:-- "O! que d'écrits obscurs, de livres ignorés. Furent en ce grand jour de la poudre tirés." And then follows the names of many now so entirely forgotten, that the point of his sarcasms escapes us. The party of the chanter is on the point of being victorious, till the bishop, by a happy stratagem, contrives to escape the danger:--