"I have looked through a halter ere now, and come away neither sadder nor wiser than you see me. God forbid I should ever be one or other. I have even given my Testament to the world, a thing few men do and live. Alas! How the world changes. But that is past and the bird sings no longer.
Ou sont les gratieux gallards
Que je suy voye au temps jadis,
Si bien chantans, si bien parlans,
Si plaisans en faicts et en dicts?
Hung, I sadly fear, hung, every mother's son of them! But the bird still sits upon the bough, and if in age it sings less, still needs must that it fills its craw, so, come, sir, pay up! Like my brother Louis, I try smooth means first, but, also like my brother Louis, I do not stop there; and, again like my brother Louis, when I squeeze I squeeze hard.
Necessité fait gars mesprendre,
Et faim saillir le loup des boys,
"François, the one and only King of Song, has spoken!"
"François? What? Art thou that François Villon?"
The fellow laughed as he bowed with a flourish.
"Monsieur has said it!"
"François Villon? And not hanged yet?"
Again he laughed, but this time without merriment; the gibe and the contempt were alike bitter.