While we were at Lyons, and as I remember, the third day after our
coming thither, we had like to have been involved in a state broil,
without knowing where we were. It was of a Sunday in the evening, the
people of Lyons, who had been sorely oppressed in taxes, and the war
in Italy pinching their trade, began to be very tumultuous. We found
the day before the mob got together in great crowds, and talked oddly;
the king was everywhere reviled, and spoken disrespectfully of, and
the magistrates of the city either winked at, or durst not attempt to
meddle, lest they should provoke the people.
But on Sunday night, about midnight, we were waked by a prodigious
noise in the street. I jumped out of bed, and running to the window,
I saw the street as full of mob as it could hold, some armed with
muskets and halberds, matched in very good order; others in disorderly
crowds, all shouting and crying out, "Du paix le roi," and the like.
One that led a great party of this rabble carried a loaf of bread upon
the top of a pike, and other lesser loaves, signifying the smallness
of their bread, occasioned by dearness.
By morning this crowd was gathered to a great height; they ran roving
over the whole city, shut up all the shops, and forced all the
people to join with them from thence.
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