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Updated: June 27, 2025
A last fiery spasm gets hold of Pétrolus as he espies afar Eudo's pointed house, and he cries that on the great day of revenge there will be some accounts to settle; and then the fervor of this ideal-bearer cools and fades, and is spent along the length of the roads. He is now no more than a poor black bantam which cannot possibly take wing. His face mournfully awakes to the evening.
It was Eustace, a generous ardent youth in those days, who saved her from most of Eudo's wrath by drawing it upon himself. The Count of Saint-Pol swore a great oath. 'By the teeth of God, Jehane, he roared, 'I see how it is. He hath made thee a piece of ruin, and now runs wasting elsewhere.
Kingship, even now, was not far off. You climbed in various ways, by the field, by the board, by the bed. A handsome daughter was nearly worth a stout son. The infatuation of the girl for this man or that man was nothing; but the infatuation of the great Count of Poictou for her set Eudo's heart ablaze.
And hearing these things, unfortunately true, Marie would murmur, with a sort of obstinate gentleness, "Love is sacred." Returning, not far from the anachronistic and clandestine Eudo's lair, we used to hear the coughing parrot.
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