1 files changed, 0 insertions, 100 deletions
diff --git a/themes/ananke/exampleSite/content/post/chapter-3.md b/themes/ananke/exampleSite/content/post/chapter-3.md
deleted file mode 100644
index cd29cee..0000000
--- a/themes/ananke/exampleSite/content/post/chapter-3.md
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,100 +0,0 @@
----
-date: 2017-04-11T11:13:32-04:00
-description: "Monsieur the Cardinal"
-featured_image: ""
-tags: []
-title: "Chapter III: Monsieur the Cardinal"
----
-
-Poor Gringoire! the din of all the great double petards of the Saint-Jean,
-the discharge of twenty arquebuses on supports, the detonation of that
-famous serpentine of the Tower of Billy, which, during the siege of Paris,
-on Sunday, the twenty-sixth of September, 1465, killed seven Burgundians
-at one blow, the explosion of all the powder stored at the gate of the
-Temple, would have rent his ears less rudely at that solemn and dramatic
-moment, than these few words, which fell from the lips of the usher, “His
-eminence, Monseigneur the Cardinal de Bourbon.”
-
-It is not that Pierre Gringoire either feared or disdained monsieur the
-cardinal. He had neither the weakness nor the audacity for that. A true
-eclectic, as it would be expressed nowadays, Gringoire was one of those
-firm and lofty, moderate and calm spirits, which always know how to bear
-themselves amid all circumstances (_stare in dimidio rerum_), and who
-are full of reason and of liberal philosophy, while still setting store by
-cardinals. A rare, precious, and never interrupted race of philosophers to
-whom wisdom, like another Ariadne, seems to have given a clew of thread
-which they have been walking along unwinding since the beginning of the
-world, through the labyrinth of human affairs. One finds them in all ages,
-ever the same; that is to say, always according to all times. And, without
-reckoning our Pierre Gringoire, who may represent them in the fifteenth
-century if we succeed in bestowing upon him the distinction which he
-deserves, it certainly was their spirit which animated Father du Breul,
-when he wrote, in the sixteenth, these naively sublime words, worthy of
-all centuries: “I am a Parisian by nation, and a Parrhisian in language,
-for _parrhisia_ in Greek signifies liberty of speech; of which I have
-made use even towards messeigneurs the cardinals, uncle and brother to
-Monsieur the Prince de Conty, always with respect to their greatness, and
-without offending any one of their suite, which is much to say.”
-
-There was then neither hatred for the cardinal, nor disdain for his
-presence, in the disagreeable impression produced upon Pierre Gringoire.
-Quite the contrary; our poet had too much good sense and too threadbare a
-coat, not to attach particular importance to having the numerous allusions
-in his prologue, and, in particular, the glorification of the dauphin, son
-of the Lion of France, fall upon the most eminent ear. But it is not
-interest which predominates in the noble nature of poets. I suppose that
-the entity of the poet may be represented by the number ten; it is certain
-that a chemist on analyzing and pharmacopolizing it, as Rabelais says,
-would find it composed of one part interest to nine parts of self-esteem.
-
-Now, at the moment when the door had opened to admit the cardinal, the
-nine parts of self-esteem in Gringoire, swollen and expanded by the breath
-of popular admiration, were in a state of prodigious augmentation, beneath
-which disappeared, as though stifled, that imperceptible molecule of which
-we have just remarked upon in the constitution of poets; a precious
-ingredient, by the way, a ballast of reality and humanity, without which
-they would not touch the earth. Gringoire enjoyed seeing, feeling,
-fingering, so to speak an entire assembly (of knaves, it is true, but what
-matters that?) stupefied, petrified, and as though asphyxiated in the
-presence of the incommensurable tirades which welled up every instant from
-all parts of his bridal song. I affirm that he shared the general
-beatitude, and that, quite the reverse of La Fontaine, who, at the
-presentation of his comedy of the “Florentine,” asked, “Who is the
-ill-bred lout who made that rhapsody?” Gringoire would gladly have
-inquired of his neighbor, “Whose masterpiece is this?”
-
-The reader can now judge of the effect produced upon him by the abrupt and
-unseasonable arrival of the cardinal.
-
-That which he had to fear was only too fully realized. The entrance of his
-eminence upset the audience. All heads turned towards the gallery. It was
-no longer possible to hear one’s self. “The cardinal! The cardinal!”
-repeated all mouths. The unhappy prologue stopped short for the second
-time.
-
-The cardinal halted for a moment on the threshold of the estrade. While he
-was sending a rather indifferent glance around the audience, the tumult
-redoubled. Each person wished to get a better view of him. Each man vied
-with the other in thrusting his head over his neighbor’s shoulder.
-
-He was, in fact, an exalted personage, the sight of whom was well worth
-any other comedy. Charles, Cardinal de Bourbon, Archbishop and Comte of
-Lyon, Primate of the Gauls, was allied both to Louis XI., through his
-brother, Pierre, Seigneur de Beaujeu, who had married the king’s eldest
-daughter, and to Charles the Bold through his mother, Agnes of Burgundy.
-Now, the dominating trait, the peculiar and distinctive trait of the
-character of the Primate of the Gauls, was the spirit of the courtier, and
-devotion to the powers that be. The reader can form an idea of the
-numberless embarrassments which this double relationship had caused him,
-and of all the temporal reefs among which his spiritual bark had been
-forced to tack, in order not to suffer shipwreck on either Louis or
-Charles, that Scylla and that Charybdis which had devoured the Duc de
-Nemours and the Constable de Saint-Pol. Thanks to Heaven’s mercy, he had
-made the voyage successfully, and had reached home without hindrance. But
-although he was in port, and precisely because he was in port, he never
-recalled without disquiet the varied haps of his political career, so long
-uneasy and laborious. Thus, he was in the habit of saying that the year
-1476 had been “white and black” for him—meaning thereby, that in the
-course of that year he had lost his mother, the Duchesse de la
-Bourbonnais, and his cousin, the Duke of Burgundy, and that one grief had
-consoled him for the other.