Before long, the eagle deposited the three at the Count's loggia on the amphitheatre called Piazza de' Calaquendi. Arafrantz barely noticed the lavish warg-costumes that the Count had placed at his guests' disposal; for his attention was drawn to the horrific spectacle of the guillotine, in the likeness of a swan, whose beak was of burnished gold – so much beauty in an object of death! And those two elves in Lincoln green: those were the assistants of the executioner! Arafrantz felt queasy, and fervently wished he had remembered to bring some mushrooms along. The elves, however, apparently regarded this ceremony as a charming event to bring their children to see. Instead of reverence before the sombre spectacle of death, laughter mingled with drunken singing of "Elberette, gentille Elberette" and children playing hangman. Evidently, immortals were of a remarkable sang-froid.
Finally, the executioner appeared, dressed in a clown costume.
Arafrantz glanced at Réginard; he was pale, and had – unheard of event – thrown away his cigar half-smoked. The Count, on the other hand, looked jovial, and if anything bore an expression of mildness and contentment, sipping his cognac as if he were in the finest salon in Annuminas.
