"Finally, they pretend that it's always been thus. They hang the little ones, the bigger ones save themselves, and the biggest mock at everyone. One's ill advised to go to law now that the advocates and the attorneys drag a lawsuit along for five or six years, receiving money from all hands, so as to maintain their wives and their daughters in luxury, playing the Jew to ruin their poor clients. As to the sergeants, they run all over to find criminals; but if they arrest some thieves, they let them go very quickly, for fear that the latter will give them some money. Poor city! Don't we hear a frightful noise every night? And still we're in the best neighborhood. And that does not prevent them from committing vandalisms, robberies, murders. There are shouts, a clash of arms; what is the use of provosts, sheriffs, sergeants, archers, if the police do so badly? It's not the merchants I pity; they'll give themselves to the devil for a sou; they sell their goods for four times more than they cost; to draw customers, they allow every passer-by to go into their shops, leaving them at leisure to chat with their women, to take them by the chin, to talk soft nonsense, to make love to their face,--all that to sell a collar, some rouge, a dozen of needles. It's a shame to see everything that goes on amongst us. If I go to market to get my provisions, I'm surrounded by thieves who amuse themselves by stealing from the buyers and the sellers; they rummage in the creels and baskets, then they sing in my ears indecent and obscene songs. Good Saint Marguerite! where are we in all this? The scholars, more debauched than ever, insulting, pillaging, doing a thousand wickednesses; the young men of family who haunt the gambling-dens, the drinking-houses, always armed with daggers or swords. Ah, my dear master, Satan has taken possession of our poor city and will make us his prey." Marguerite stopped anew and listened. The barber still kept the deepest silence, but he was not asleep. Several times he had passed his right hand over his forehead and pushed back his curls. For those who love to talk, it is much the same whether they are listened to or believe themselves to be listened to. The old servant was enjoying herself; she did not often find so good an opportunity to talk, and she began again after a short pause:--