the law, for the offence by you committed.  After that, you will be conducted bareheaded and on foot to the Place de Greve, where your books will be burned before your eyes.  Then you will be taken in front of the church of Notre-Dame, where you will make honorable amends to God and to the glorious Virgin His Mother.  After which a hole will be pierced in your tongue, that member wherewith you have sinned.  Lastly, you will be placed in the prison of Monsieur de Paris (the bishop), and will be there confined between two stone walls for the whole of your life.  And we forbid that there be ever given you book to read or pen and ink to write.”  This sentence, which Erasmus called atrocious, appeared to take Berquin by surprise; for a moment he remained speechless, and then he said, “I appeal to the king:”  whereupon he was taken back to prison.  The sentence was to be carried out the same day about three P. M. A great crowd of more than twenty thousand persons, says a contemporary chronicler, rushed to the bridges, the streets, the squares, where this solemn expiation was to take place.  The commissioner of police, the officer of the Chatelet, the archers, crossbowmen, and arquebusiers of the city had repaired to the palace to form the escort; but when they presented themselves at the prison to take Berquin, he told them that he had appealed to the king, and that he would not go with them.  The escort and the crowd retired disappointed.  The president convoked the tribunal the same evening, and repairing to the prison, he made Berquin sign the form of his appeal.  William Bude hurried to the scene, and vehemently urged the prisoner to give it up.  “A second sentence,” said he, “is ready, and it pronounces death.  If you acquiesce in the first, we shall be able to save you later on.  All that is demanded of you is to ask pardon:  and have we not all need of pardon?” It appears that for a moment Berquin hesitated, and was on the point of consenting; but Bude remained anxious.  “I know him,” said he; “his ingenuousness and his confidence in the goodness of his cause will ruin him.”  The king was at Blois, and his sister Marguerite at St. Germain; on the news of this urgent peril she wrote to her brother, “I for the last time, make you a very humble request; it is, that you will be pleased to have pity upon poor Berquin, whom I know to be suffering for nothing but loving the word of God and obeying yours.  You will be pleased, Monseigneur, so to act that it be not said that separation has made you forget your most humble and most obedient subject and sister, Marguerite.”  We can discover no trace of any reply whatever from Francis I. According to most of the documentary evidence, uncertainty lasted for three days.  Berquin persisted in his resolution.  “No,” he to his friend Bude, who again came to the prison, “I would rather endure death than give my approval, even by silence only to condemnation of the truth.”  The president of the court went once more to pay