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Updated: July 6, 2025
Huguette flung her arms around him and hugged him as she cried passionately: "I forgive you much, for that light in your eyes." But the poet seemed weary after so much heat. He pushed the girl away and drooped on his hogshead. The rogues rattled away to their table again, and Villon was left alone with Louis, who questioned him drily: "You call yourself a patriot, I suppose?"
The men and women who sat and sprawled around the table kept quiet, listening to her and staring at her; sleepy Colin pricked his ears; Robin Turgis was alert to hear, for he knew that it was worth while to listen when Huguette du Hamel chose to sing. Robin Turgis knew all about her.
"When there is an end of you, there is an end of the quarrel. Your friends here must agree to that." Villon agreed on the instant. He was all for ridding the world of Thibaut, but he wanted to do it himself for the sake of the white girl crouching on the stairway. "I promise," he said, "for myself and for them," and turning to the girl, he insisted, "Promise, Huguette; swear it!"
"The girl is as fleet as a hare and as wild witted," he said to himself. Then he flung Huguette from his thoughts and faced the great problem. "How does the balance go?" he asked himself, and he weighed the air with his hands as if their cups held the precious things he spoke of. "In the one hand, a great king's life; in the other, a poor poet's honour. King, beggar, beggar, king."
Hum!" the viscount said, in some embarrassment, "I do not know of any means, my dear child, unless we get together a jury...." "Please do not joke about it!" Huguette exclaimed. "I am perfectly serious." "I am very serious also, I assure you, I think that a jury..." "Composed of whom? Of men of the world, I suppose?" "And what does this Julot do?"
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