He stretched a pair of protecting arms wide
out to ward off from the king the approach of so singular a
deputation, while he demanded angrily:
"In heaven's name, sir, who are these scarecrows who flaunt their
tatters in the presence of the king?"
The king nursed his chin with an amused smile as Villon answered:
"The scarecrows are rogues who have fought like gentlefolk and these
rags are the banners of the enemy."
Even as he spoke the rapscallions stripped the pieces of silk from
arm and leg and forehead, shook them out into such semblance of
their original shape as battle had left to them and flung them with
a gesture of imperial pride on the ground at the foot of the dais.
"Well answered," said Louis regally, while two pursuivants pounced
swiftly upon the bits of silk, and gathering them up with
reverential fingers, laid them upon the railing in front of the
king's chair to be examined with loving care by the queen. Standing
erect, Villon addressed the king: "Louis of France, we bring you
these silks for your carpet. An hour ago they wooed the wind from
Burgundian staves and floated over Burgundian helmets.
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