All the witnesses having been examined, the counsel for the prosecution then rose to address the court. “Gentlemen of the jury, society would be utterly put to confusion if a public prosecution did not condemn great culprits like him, who,” etc. After the long address by the prosecution, Claude’s counsel rose. Then followed the usual pleading for and against, which ever takes place at the criminal court. Claude in his turn gave evidence, and every one was astonished at his intelligence; there appeared far more of the orator about this poor workman than the assassin. In a clear and straightforward way he detailed the facts as they were--standing proudly there, resolved to tell the whole truth. At times the crowd was carried away by his eloquence. This man, who could not read, would grasp the most difficult points of argument, yet treat the judges with all due deference. Once Claude lost his temper, when the counsel for the prosecution stated that he had assassinated the inspector without provocation. “What!” cried Claude, “I had no provocation? Indeed! A drunkard strikes me--I kill him; then you would allow there was provocation, and the penalty of death would be changed for that of the galleys. But a man who wounds me in every way during four years, humiliates me for four years, taunts me daily, hourly, for four years, and heaps every insult on my head--what follows? You consider I have had no provocation! I had a wife for whom I robbed--he tortured me about her. I had a child for whom I robbed--he taunted me about this child. I was hungry, a friend shared his bread with me--he took away my friend. I begged him to return my friend to me--he cast me into a dungeon. I told him how much I suffered--he said it wearied him to listen. What then would you have me do? I took his life; and you look upon me as a monster for killing this man, and you decapitate me; then do so.” Provocation such as this the law fails to acknowledge, because the blows leave no marks to show. The judge then summed up the case in a clear and impartial manner--dwelling on the life Claude had led, living openly with an improper character; then he had robbed, and ended by being a murderer. All this was true. Before the jury retired, the judge asked Claude if he had any questions to ask, or anything to say. “Very little,” said Claude. “I am a murderer, I am a thief; but I ask you, gentlemen of this jury, why did I kill? Why did I steal?” The jury retired for a quarter of an hour, and according to the judgment of these twelve countrymen--_gentlemen of the jury_, as they are styled--Claude Gueux was condemned to death. At the very outset several of them were much impressed with the name of Gueux (vagabond); and that influenced their decision. When the verdict was pronounced, Claude simply said: “Very well; but there are two questions these gentlemen have not answered. Why did this man steal? What made him a murderer?”