"Oh, Sir champion! It is heaven that sends you. There will surely be need of you."
"Heaven, I am of the opinion, mixes but little in my concerns. Let us leave Gog and Magog to settle their affairs among themselves."
"You should know that, unfortunately, I have a process. I admit that I am in great trouble."
"You, my pretty hostess?"
"It is now three months ago that I lent twelve florins to Simon the Hirsute. When I asked him for the money, the mean thief denied the debt. We went before the seneschal. I maintained what I said; Simon maintained his side. There were no witnesses either for or against us, and as the amount involved was above five sous, the seneschal ordered a judicial battle. But who would take my part?"
"And you have found nobody to be your champion against Simon the Hirsute?"
"Alas, no! By reason of his strength and his wickedness the fellow is feared all over this country. No one would venture to fight with him."
"Well, my pretty hostess, you can count with me. I shall fight him as well for the sake of your pretty eyes as for the sake of your cause."
"Oh, my cause is good, Sir champion. It is as true that I lent Simon the Hirsute those twelve florins as.... I'll tell you how it was—"
"You need say no more. A pretty mouth like yours would not fib. Moreover, I'm in the habit of placing confidence in what my clients tell me. What is wanted is, not solid reasons, but rude blows with the sword, the lance or the mace. Thus, so long as this right fist is not cut off, it will offer arguments more conclusive than the subtlest ones of the most famous jurists."