y superior vintage."

The lord of Brisetout walked to and fro with his hands behind his
back. Perhaps he was not yet quite settled in his mind about the
parallel between thieves and soldiers; perhaps Villon had interested
him by some cross-thread of sympathy; perhaps his wits were simply
muddled by so much unfamiliar reasoning; but whatever the cause, he
somehow yearned to convert the young man to a better way of thinking,
and could not make up his mind to drive him forth again into the
street.

"There is something more than I can understand in this," he said, at
length. "Your mouth is full of subtleties, and the devil has led you
very far astray; but the devil is only a very weak spirit before God's
truth, and all his subtleties vanish at a word of true honor, like
darkness at morning. Listen to me once more. I learned long ago that a
gentleman should live chivalrously and lovingly to God, and the king,
and his lady; and though I have seen many strange things done, I
have still striven to command my ways upon that rule. It is not only
written in all noble histories, but in every man's heart, if he will
take care to read. You speak of food and wine, and I know very well
that hunger is a difficult trial to endure; but you do not speak of
other wants; you say nothing of honor, of faith to God and other men,
of courtesy, of love without reproach. It may be that I am not very
wise--and yet I think I am--but you seem to me like one who has lost
his way and made a great error in life. You are attending to the
little wants, and you have totally forgotten the great and only real
ones, like a man who should be doctoring a toothache on the Judgment
Day. For such things as honor and love and faith are not only nobler
than food and drink, but, indeed, I think that we desire them more,
and suffer more sharply for their absence. I speak to you as I think
you will most easily understand me. Are you not, while careful to fill
your belly, disregarding another appetite in your heart, which spoils
the pleasure of your life and keeps you continually wretched?"

Villon was sensibly nettled under all this sermonizing. "You think I
have no sense of honor!" he cried. "I'm poor enough, God knows! It's
hard to see rich people with their gloves, and you blowing your hands.
An empty belly is a bitter thing, although you speak so lightly of
it. If you had had as many as I, perhaps you would change your tune.
Anyway, I'm a thief--make the most of