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I . The Feast of Fools On the sixth of January 1482 , all the bells of Paris woke the city early . It was a double holiday that year : the Day of the Kings and the Feast of Fools . There was going to be a bonfire in the Place de Grève , a maypole by a little chapel , and a play in the great hall of the Palace of Justice . Most people went to the play . A group of Flemish visitors had come to Paris to arrange the marriage of the king’s son to a young princess of Flanders , and the city wanted to show them a fine play . By the morning the great hall was packed . Men , women and children stood and waited on the cold stone floor . Students sat on the high window ledges and shouted jokes at the crowd below . The loudest of them was a fair - haired boy of sixteen called Jehan Frollo . His older brother was a serious and learned priest at Notre - Dame , but Jehan was not serious about anything except wine and fun . The play was supposed to start at twelve o’clock . At twelve o’clock nobody came , and the crowd grew so angry that some men began to shout that they would hang the actors . At last four actors in bright costumes climbed onto the high wooden stage and began to speak in verse . Near the stage stood a thin young man of about twenty - five , with a long face and a worn black coat . His name was Pierre Gringoire , and he was a poet . He had written the play himself , a long moral play in honour of the Virgin Mary . He had not eaten a proper meal for days , and he was hoping that the play would bring him money and fame at last . But the play had hardly begun when it was stopped . First a beggar with a red sore on his arm climbed up a pillar and began to cry , “ Charity , please ! Charity ! ” in a loud , sad voice . Then the great door opened , and a servant shouted , “ His Eminence the Cardinal of Bourbon ! ” Everyone turned to look at the cardinal in his red robes . Behind him came the Flemish visitors , and the servant called out each of their long names . One of the Flemings did not want a grand title . He was a big , red - faced man who made and sold socks in the city of Ghent , and his name was Jacques Coppenole . He looked at the stage , and then he laughed out loud . “ What is this ? ” he said to the crowd . “ Four men talking in verse ? In Ghent we have a better game for a feast day . We choose a Pope of Fools . ” “ How do you choose him ? ” somebody shouted . “ Easily , ” said Coppenole . “ Each man puts his head through a hole and makes the ugliest face he can . The ugliest face wins . ”
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