Louis XI of France – superstitious – crafty – cruel – a slave of the stars.
François Villon – poet, pickpocket, patriot – loving France earnestly, frenchwomen excessively, french wine exclusively.
Little Jehan and Nicholas, companions of the poet, understand everything about him – except his poetry.
Serve love and ladies day and night,
You'll get no profit nor delight,
But only broken heads and sighs!
Light love makes asses of the wise.
Happy is Paris, where fools reign once a year – while everywhere else the fools reign all the time!
Louis the Little, come, be big
Bid the cursed Burgundians dance
On the gallows they should jig
If Villon were king of France!
Princes to death are all foretold,
Even as the humblest of their array;
Whether they sorrow or whether they scold,
The wind carries their like away!
A man who sings so divinely must be better at heart than he pretends to the world.
Every man has two souls – one for the world, and one for the woman he loves.
.. a slave of the stars
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