The conclusion of this volume must call attention to certain traces left by the ecclesiastical _ludi_ of the New Year, themselves extinct, upon festival custom, and, through this, upon dramatic tradition. The Feast of Fools did not altogether vanish with its suppression in the cathedrals. It had had its origin in the popular celebration of the Kalends. Throughout it did not altogether lack a popular element. The _bourgeois_ crowded into the cathedral to see and share in the revel. The Fool Bishop in his turn left the precincts and made his progress through the city streets, while his satellites played their pranks abroad for the entertainment of the mob. The feast was a dash of colour in the civic as well as the ecclesiastical year. The Tournai riots of 1499 show that the _jeunesse_ of that city had come to look upon it as a _spectacle_ which they were entitled to claim from the cathedral. What happened in Tournai doubtless happened elsewhere. And the upshot of it was that when in chapter after chapter the reforming party got the upper hand and the official celebration was dropped, the city and its _jeunesse_ themselves stepped into the breach and took measures to perpetuate the threatened delightful dynasty. It was an easy way to avert the loss of a holiday. And so we find a second tradition of Feasts of Fools, in which the _fous_ are no longer vicars but _bourgeois_, and the _dominus festi_ is a popular ‘king’ or ‘prince’ rather than a clerical ‘bishop.’ A mid-fifteenth-century writer, Martin Franc, attests the vogue of the _prince des folz_ in the towns of northern France: ‘Va t’en aux festes à Tournay, A celles d’Arras et de Lille, D’Amiens, de Douay, de Cambray, De Valenciennes, d’Abbeville. Là verras tu des gens dix mille, Plus qu’en la forest de Torfolz, Qui servent par sales, par viles, A ton dieu, le prince des folz[1332].’