THE POEMS OF FRANCOIS VILLON
OTHER BOOKS BY
H. DE VERE STACPOOLE
THE PRESENTATION
A Romance of Old Paris
Cloth, $1.30 net
THE NEW OPTIMISM
An Irresistible Study of Evolution
Cloth, $1.00 net
JOHN LANE COMPANY
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
THE POEMS
oX~~ • • • • •
FRANfOIS
VILLON
H-DeVere
Stacpoole
NEW YORK
JOHN LANE COMPANY
MCMXIV
Vq
15
E5S1
COPYRIGHT, igi4, BY
JOHN LANE COMPANY
805070
J. J. Little &°Ivcs Co.
New York
THE two Testaments of Fran£ois Villon
with a running commentary and notes,
also the ballades of the Grand Testament
translated into English with a translation
of various Ballades and Rondeaux from
the general poems.
vu
Contents
PAGE
THE PARIS or 1456 . ... 1
EPITAPH IN FORM OF A BALLADE . . 17
(LA BALLADE DBS PENDUS)
BALLADE OF VANISHED LADIES . . . 20
(BALLADE DES DAMES DU TEMPS JADIS)
BALLADE OF VANISHED LORDS . . .22
(BALLADE DES SEIGNEURS DU TEMPS JADIS)
BALLADE OF VANISHED LORDS . . .24
(BALLADE DES SEIGNEURS DU TEMPS JADIS)
THE LAMENT OF LA BELLE HEAULMIERE . 26
(LES REGRETS DE LA BELLE HEAULMIERE)
BALLADE OF LA BELLE HEAULMIERE TO
THE FlLLES DE JoiE ... 30
(BALLADE DE LA BELLE HEAULMIERE AUX
FILLES DE JOIE)
ix
Contents
PAGE
DOUBLE BALLADE OF GOOD COUNSEL . 32
(DOUBLE BALLADE SUR LE MESME PROPOS)
BALLADE WRITTEN FOE HIS MOTHER AT HER
REQUEST ..... 35
(BALLADE QUE FEIT VILLON A LA REQUESTS DE
SA MERE)
BALLADE OF VILLON TO HIS MISTRESS . 37
(BALLADE DE VILLON A S'AMYE)
LAY; OR, RATHER, RONDEAU ... 39
(LAY, ou PLUSTOST RONDEAU)
BALLADE AND PRAYER . . . .40
(BALLADE ET ORAISON)
THE BALLADE OF THE BRIDEGROOM . . 42
(BALLADE QUE VILLON DONNA A UN GENTIL-
HOMME NOUVELLEMENT MARIE)
BALLADE ENTITLED, "LES CONTREDICTZ DE
FRANC-GONTIER" .... 44
(BALLADE INTITULES, "LES CONTREDICTZ DE
FRANC-GONTIER")
BALLADE OF THE WOMEN OF PARIS . . 47
(BALLADE DBS FEMMES DE PARIS)
X
Contents
PAG*
BELLE LE£ON DE VILLON AUX ENFANS
PERDUZ ..... 49
(BELLE LE£ON DE VILLON AUX ENFANS PER-
DUZ)
BALLADE OF GOOD DOCTRINE TO THOSE OF
EVIL LIFE ..... 51
(BALLADE DE BONNE DOCTRINE)
LAYS 53
EPITAPH . . . . . .54
RONDEL ...... 55
BALLADE ...... 56
VILLON'S LAST BALLADE ... 58
(BALLADE POUR SERVIR DE CONCLUSION)
LETTER, IN FORM OF A BALLADE, TO HIS
FRIENDS ..... 60
(EPISTRE, EN FORME DE BALLADE, A SES AMIS)
RONDEL 63
RONDEL ...... 64
RONDEL . . . . . .65
xi
Contents
PAGE
BALLADE AGAINST THE ENEMIES OF FRANCE 66
(BALLADE CONTRE LES MESDISANS DE LA
FRANCE)
THE SHEPHERD AND THE SHEPHERDESS . 69
(BALLADE)
THE DISPUTE OF THE HEART AND BODY OF
FRAN90is VILLON . . . .71
(LE DEBAT DU CUEUR ET DU CORPS DE
VILLON, EN FORME DE BALLADE)
LE PETIT TESTAMENT . . . .74
(THE LITTLE TESTAMENT)
LE GRAND TESTAMENT .... 108
(THE GREAT TESTAMENT)
APPENDIX
L'EPITAPHE EN FORME DE BALLADE . . 247
BALLADE DBS DAMES DU TEMPS JADIS . 249
BALLADE DBS SEIGNEURS DU TEMPS JADIS,
SUYVANT LE PROPOS PRECEDENT . 251
BALLADE A CE PROPOS, EN VIEIL FRANCOIS . 253
LES REGRETS DE LA BELLE HEAULMIERE . 255
xii
Contents
BALLADE DE LA BELLE HEAULMIERE AUX
FILLES DE JOIE ....
DOUBLE BALLADE SUR LE MESME PROPOS .
BALLADE QUE FEIT VILLON A LA REQUESTE
DE SA MERE, POUR PRIER NOSTRE-
DAME . . .
BALLADE DE VILLON A S'AMYE .
LAY, ou PLUSTOST RONDEAU
BALLADE ET ORAISON ...
BALLADE QUE VILLON DONNA A UNG GENTIL-
HOMME NOUVELLEMENT MARIE, POUR
L'ENVOYER A SON ESPOUSE, PAR LUY
CONQUISE A L'ESPEE
BALLADE ......
BALLADE INTITULEE, "Lss CONTREDICTZ DE
FRANC-GONTIER" ....
BALLADE DES FEMMES DE PARIS
BALLADE DE VILLON ET DE LA GROSSE
MARGOT .....
BELLE LE^ON DE VILLON AUX ENFANS PER-
DUZ ......
xiii
PAGE
258
260
264
266
268
271
275
277
279
281
Contents
EFSPTKK JCT WOBMX, HE BAIXADE* A m AW 291
BAIXABE COYTKK
I/EBAT BV CCTEIK. ET BIT C/OEPl
» tUJOJf fW VOKXE 9E " AT,T. AT>^ v
THE PAEIS OF 1
THE PARIS OF 1456
/~\PENING the Petit Testament is like
^^ opening a window on to Old Paris.
The air of winter blows at once in your
face.
En ce temps que j'ay devant
Sur le Noel, morte saison.
The cry of the wolf sniffing the wind
at the city gates crosses the Christmas
bells. Spires, chimney-pots, weathercocks,
house-gables, cut the freezing sky; the
windmills of Petit Gentilli stand stark and
still as if menacing the always hungry city,
and fronting Gentilli the windmills of Pin-
court fling their arms to the air.
Shivering and fascinated one listens and
looks, till at last, by some alchemy, one
finds oneself in those forgotten streets,
Paris 1456
where dusk and dim lanterns struggle to-
gether, and the sudden blaze of a torch
carried by at a run shows a crowd that
is at once a crowd and a shadow. Beggars,
prostitutes, tramps, thieves, priests, and
honest citizens — all those who were once
human beings — go about their business in
that freezing dusk which clings still to the
opening and closing lines of the Petit
Testament.
The litter of the woman of fashion
passes, carried by lackeys up to their
ankles in filth. The vulture profile of the
Arbaletrier and the frozen beard sticking
brush-like from his face, gold of baldrick,
horror of rags — all are lit by the running
torch-man.
You turn a corner and the bells hit you
in the face; they seem whipped to life by
the wind from the north; you cross the
Petit Pont, to the Cite, and the Rue de
la Juiverie lies before you, with the
Church of the Madeleine on one side of it
and the Pomme de Pin on the other.
The Pomme de Pin casts its light right
out to the road-way. It is the most
notable public-house in Paris, and mixed
( 2 )
Paris 1456
with the bells of St. Merri and the carillon
of St. Landry the voice of the Pomme
comes like the crackling of thorns beneath
a pot of mulling wine. There you will
find Francois Villon warming his hands
at the fire, thawing the frost and the Uni-
versity out of his blood, and cracking
jokes with friends and strangers, whilst
Robin Turgis serves the drink. Fournier,
the Lieutenant Criminel, shows his ugly
face at the door; Guillaume Cotin and
Thibault de Vitry look in; the place
becomes crowded with students of the
University, each one entering blue with
cold and each one leaving red with wine.
Dusk is the fashionable hour at the
Pomme de Pin, night at the Abreuvoir
Popin. The Abreuvoir Popin is one of
those tragic places that possess evil per-
sonalities of their own. It is a watering-
place for horses just by the Petit Pont,
and in summer it is frequented by black-
guard boys, courtesans, thieves, coiners,
students broken from the University, and
disfrocked priests. In winter the tavern
beside it is crammed. Here you will find
Jehan le Loup and Casin Cholet, duck-
( 3 )
Paris 1456
thieves; Regnier de Montigny, Colin de
Cayeux, Guy Tabary, Dom Nicholas,
Petit-Jehan, and Thibault the goldsmith —
all robbers, and worse.
We can see them drinking together with
Villon in their midst, discussing the small-
est and the meanest matters, unconscious
of the immortality he is to give them, and
which they would sell for a bottle of wine.
THE THREE QUARTERS
The Paris of Villon, armed, spinous,
belted by the waU of Charles V., was
divided into three quarters: the Uni-
versity, the Cite, and the Ville. The
University, a solid mass of slated roofs,
covered the left bank of the Seine from
the Tournelle to the tower of Nesle and
spread over the hill of St. Genevieve;
the Cite, with its twenty-one churches, cov-
ered the island of the Cite, and the Ville
covered the right bank with its gardens and
palaces. Around this city of a thousand
churches 1 and ten thousand houses, all
1 Figurative.
Paris 1456
fused and huddled together as if for
warmth and protection, were the stray
towers and windmills of the suburbs of
Gentilli, Pincourt, Porcherons, and Ville
1'Eveque.
The Cour des Miracles was situated in
the Ville. This nightmare place, so vividly
painted by Hugo, must have been known to
Villon — it recruited from the University as
well as from the Church. Shaped like a
market-square, it was surrounded by rook-
eries populated by robbers, beggars, petty
thieves, and cut-throats; by gipsies, Jews,
and Christians. It broke through the ruined
wall of the Ville, and some of the towers of
the wall were used as taverns and houses of
ill repute. Teeming with people by night,
lit by bonfires, unapproachable even by the
archers of the watch, the Cour des Miracles,
like a terrible lantern, lights the Paris of
Villon for the understanding. Where such
a place could be, all things might be, and
most things unspeakable were.
The Pomme de Pin, the Abreuvoir
Popin, and the Cour des Miracles were but
three rungs in a ladder. The student who
began by drinking at the Pomme often
( 5 )
Paris 1456
ended by sleeping in the Cour des Miracles.
Villon fell into the pit at Meun-sur-Loire
in the prison of Thibault d'Aussigny — but
he at least escaped from falling into the
Cour des Miracles.
The Ville, among its other important
buildings, held the Louvre and the Hotel
de Ville; it was a much more extensive and
less densely populated quarter than either
that of the Cite or the University. Though
it held the Cour des Miracles, it held also
some of the finest houses in Paris. On the
Seine bank lay the Hotel de Jouy and the
Hotels de Sens and Barbeau; the Queen's
Palace and the Abbey of the Celestins were
also here. Behind these lay the vast grounds
of the Hotel St. Pol, owned by the King of
France. Farther afield rose to view the
Logis d'Angouleme and the spires and
towers of the palace of the Tournelles. To
the right of the Tournelles, grim and black,
stood the Bastille.
The centre of the Ville was occupied by
poor houses. Here lay the Halles and the
pillory and the Croix de Trahoir. The great
semicircle of the Ville also included a place
which, like the Cour des Miracles, throws a
( 6 )
Paris 1456
sinister light on the Paris of Villon — the
Marche au Pourceaux, where was situated
the cauldron in which coiners were boiled
alive.
THE CITE
Unlike the Ville, the Cite was simply
crusted with buildings — mostly churches.
Notre-Dame, like a mother, seemed to have
gathered them all around her. In front of
the great Cathedral the houses had cleared
a space, and the Parvis of Notre-Dame,
into which three streets emptied, must have
been a sight on a feast-day and coloured by
the life of the Ville, the Cite, and the Uni-
versity. Charlemagne, who laid the first
stone of the Cathedral, has a place in the
verse of Villon, and a whiff of incense from
the great old church seems to stray across
that ballade written by Villon for his
mother.
Notre-Dame, like the Cour des Miracles,
also holds its lamp to the city of the poet,
illuminating other things than the tenebrous
and vile.
Here on the Cite was also situated the
( 7 )
Paris 1456
Palais de Justice at which Villon looks
askant; the Palace of the Bishop, at which
we may fancy him turning up his nose; the
Hotel-Dieu on the Parvis; and the Hotel
de Juvenal des Urcins — that chronicler of
calamities.
THE UNIVERSITY
Crossing over from the city to the Uni-
versity by the Petit Pont, one passed the
gateway of the Petit Chatelet and found
oneself in a maze of streets. Streets, streets
— some narrow, some fairly broad; some
cutting through rookeries alive with stu-
dents, some giving frontage to the colleges,
forty-two in number, and spired and domed
with the spires and domes of fantasy and the
Middle Ages.
One passed abbeys and splendid hotels —
the Hotel de Cluny was here, and the Logis
de Nevers, the Logis de Rome, and the
Logis de Rheims — till, elbowing churchmen
and students, one at last arrived at the
church of St. Benoist-le-Bien-tourne, near
the Sorbonne.
The Church of St. Benoist had a double
( 8 )
Villon
influence on the life of Francois des Loges,
otherwise known as Francois Villon. It was
Guillaume Villon, a chaplain of St. Benoist,
who adopted Fra^ois des Loges and gave
him his name and shelter in his house, the
Porte Rouge, situated in the cloister of St.
Benoist.
It was in front of St. Benoist one fine
evening that Francois Villon, sitting on a
stone and conversing with Gilles, a priest,
and one named Ysabeau, was accosted by
Philippe Chermoye, also a priest. In the
altercation that ensued Villon struck Cher-
moye so that he died, a crime — if crime it
was — which sent Villon to exile, and helped
to give us the "Epistre, en forme de ballade,
a ses amis."
VILLON
Nearly everything in life gave Villon a
ballade; if not, a rondel; if not, a verse.
A tavern, a church, the picture of a saint,
a friend, an enemy, himself, his old mother,
or Casin Cholet the duck-thief — all found
expression in his genius. He was the voice
of Old Paris, and, of all the voices of her
( 9 )
Villon
bells and her people, the only living voice
to reach us. Yet he is enough, for he speaks
for them all — for the rioters in the taverns,
for the chattering girls, for the courtesan
grown old; for his mother, so clearly that
we can see her in the church where she wor-
shipped; for the creaking gibbet and the
howling wolf. There is scarcely a friend
that he has forgotten or an enemy he has
missed; and he is frank as day about him-
self.
He says horrible things, he says sordid
things, and he says beautiful things, but he
says one thing always — the truth, and his
lamentations are real no less when he is
lamenting his own fate than the fate of the
women who have vanished from the world.
Considering the times in which he lived,
he is wonderfully clean-spoken and devoid
of brutality. Remember, that in the Paris
of 1456 they boiled malefactors alive in the
cauldron of the swine-market, the grave-
yards at night were the haunts of debauch-
ery, priests and nuns helped in the recruiting
of the army of Crime, and the students of
the University were often reduced to beg-
ging their bread from door to door. He, in
( 10 )
Villon
his personal life, had been hardly dealt with.
He killed Chermoye; and who was Cher-
moye? a priest armed with a dagger. He
was a robber, but he was a robber in an age
of robbers. God made him a robber, it is
true ; but at least let us thank God that He
did not make him a tradesman. He was a
robber, but he was compassionate towards
children and women grown old — see
amongst other things, the ballade written
for his mother and many of the verses of the
Testaments ; and it is this feeling for things
weak and humble and ruined that lends his
verse a grace greater even than the grace
lent to it by his genius. To arrive at a true
estimate of the man we must look, not at his
actions, of which we know little, but at the
expressions of his mind which lie before us in
his poems. The "Ballade des Pendus" is
his masterpiece. It is his naked soul speak-
ing in the shadow of death. Yet it is a
prayer, not for himself alone, but for his
companions, and not for his companions
alone but for all the men hanging on the gib-
bets of France.
In ballade after ballade, including the
"Ballade de Grosse Margot," he has written
Villon
down lust and ill-living for what they are
worth, and of that perfect love whose blos-
som is affection, who has written more beau-
tifully than he in the "Ballade of the Bride-
groom "? He knows that little children like
cakes better than lessons, and that grown
men are just like little children in this re-
spect; he lends his genius alike to an old,
pious woman proclaiming her simple faith,
and to an old light-o'-love, lamenting her
lost youth. His pictures never err, his mor-
ality never wearies, his sympathy never
turns to sentiment, he is sad but never
morbid.
And of this sane and superb mind critics,
with a few exceptions, have written as
though it were the mind of a petty thief
with a turn for verse, or of a decadent poet
who had turned to theft, whilst Gautier has
placed its owner in the secondary ranks of
poets. Gautier! as though an enamel of
Petito were to place the position in art of
some dim yet living marble man from
Tiryns.
We have not even a portrait of Villon; if
we had I would swear it showed a better
face than the swine face of Rabelais.
( 12 )
Villon
Rabelais, a great genius who rolls in ordure
and honour, whilst Villon, a greater, walks
despised by people who call themselves
honest men.
When Auguste Longnon, searching
amidst the archives of the Chatelet de Paris
and the Bibliotheque de la Sorbonne, discov-
ered that Villon had many friends who were
thieves, he did a great disservice to litera-
ture, inasmuch as he incited Robert Louis
Stevenson to write his lamentable article on
Villon. How so great a man could have put
his hand to so mean a work must ever remain
one of the mysteries of life. Without char-
ity there is no understanding, and without
understanding you may look in vain for
charity.
Ayez pitie, Ayez pitie de moy.
A tout les moms, si vous plaist, mes amis !
The Ballades
THE BALLADES
Villon was born in the year 1431. He
died on some date unknown. His manner
of living, how much he drank, what people
he robbed, his love-affairs, his companions
and their status in life — all these things are
only of interest to us as foot-notes to his
literary work, and all these things — first
verified — should be set forth without com-
ment.
When a man is living and breathing no
other man may dare to attack his reputa-
tion; only when he is defenceless through
death may the literary kites assemble to dig
in his eyes and entrails and make profit out
of the corpse of his life and reputation;
and a corpse, over four hundred years a
corpse, may surely be left at peace, even by
these.
Villon is the greatest and truest of
French verse-writers, and if you doubt my
word look at his star, which is only now in
true ascension, after nearly half a thousand
years. He is the only French poet who is
entirely real; all the rest are tinged with
artifice, and his reality is never more vividly
j
The Ballades
apparent than when it is conveyed in the
most artificial and difficult form of verse.
The ballade, in the hands of this supreme
master, is capable of producing the most
astonishing results. It is now the perfect
necklace that fits the throat of Thais, and,
now the noose that swings from the gibbet.
He only requires thirty-seven lines to say
about women what Zola has prosily said in
five volumes, and only twenty-eight lines to
write the epitaph of all the women who have
ever lived. Villon is the most modern of the
moderns; his verse, with the gibbets re-
moved, might have been written in the Paris
of to-day, and in any civilisation to follow
ours he will hold the same high place; for it
is his essential that the forms of his genius
are the concretions of eternal principles, not
the flowery expansions of ephemeral moods.
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THE GIBBET OF MONTFAUCON
A contemporary woodcut illustration, with the opening lines of
Villon's Ballade des Pendus, from one of the earliest
editions of his poems, published in 1490. •
Epitaph in Form of a Ballade
(La Ballade des pendus)
Which was made by Villon for himself and his
companions whilst waiting with them expecting
to be hanged.
O BROTHER men who after us shall
thrive,
Let not your hearts against us hardened
be.
For all the pity unto us ye give
God will return in mercy unto ye;
We five or six here swinging from the tree,
Behold, and all our flesh, that once was
fair,
Rotted, and eaten by the beaks that tear,
Whilst we the bones to dust and ash dis-
solve.
Let no man mock us, or the fate we bear;
But pray to God that He may us absolve.
( 17 )
Epitaph in Form of a Ballade
O brothers, hear us and do not receive
Our lamentations in disdain, though we
Came here by justice ; for all men that live
Are not born into good sense equally.
Make intercession for us, graciously,
With Him whose life the Virgin once did
share,
That His grace comes to us as water clear,
Nor hell's destructions on our heads de-
volve;
Dead are we, and as dead men leave us
here.
But pray to God that He may us absolve.
The rain has washed us as we'd been alive,
The sun has dried and blackened us ye see.
The pies and crows that all around us strive
Leave us of eyes and beard and eyebrows
free.
Never from torment have we sanctuary,
Ever and always driven here and there,
At the winds' will, and every change of air.
More dented than the fruit that beaks
revolve;
Men! gaze on us, be warned, and onward
fare —
But pray to God that He may us absolve.
( 18 )
Epi tap/i in Form of a Ballade
ENVOI
Prince Jesus, Lord of all, have us in care,
And keep from us the fires of hell that
stare,
Lest those dread fires our fate and future
solve.
O brothers, make no mock of what we are,
But pray to God that He may us absolve.
Ballade of Vanished Ladies
(Ballade des dames du temps jadls)
NOW say in what land is she,
Fair Flora of Rome? Again,
Where may Hypparchia be,
With Thais, in grace germane?
Where's Echo, than mortal slain
Fairer, a voice that goes
O'er river and meer of rain?
But where are the last year's snows?
And where is that learned Heloise
Whom Abelard loved in vain,
Losing at Saint Denys
Manhood in grievous pain?
And the queen who did ordain
For Buridan his repose,
Cast in a sack to Seine?
But where are the last year's snows!
( 20 )
Ballade of Vanished Ladies
The White Queen fair to see,
Whose song was a siren's strain;
Beatrix, Berthe, Alys ;
Harembourges, who held le Mayne?
Joan, the good maid of Lorraine,
Burned by the English foes;
Virgin! where are they ta'en?
But where are the last year's snows!
ENVOI
Prince, of these women slain
Ask not this year — who knows
Where are they? — take the refrain:
But where are the last year's snows!
Ballade of Vanished Lords
(Ballade des seigneurs du temps jadis)
AND more — that Pope the third Calixte
Last of his name, where is he gone,
Who four years held the Papalist?
Where's Alphonse, King of Aragon.
The gracious lord Duke of Bourbon,
And Artus, Duke of broad Bretagne,
And Charles the seventh named "Le Bon"?
But where is now brave Charlemagne!
Also that Scottish king of mist
And rain, with half his face, saith one,
Vermillion like an amethyst,
Painted from chin right up to crown.
The Cyprian king of old renown,
Alas ! and that good king of Spain,
Whose name hath from my memory flown?
But where is now brave Charlemagne!
( 22 )
Ballade of Vanished Lords
I say no more, let me desist
In useless quest of things undone,
For none may pallid Death resist
Or find in law evasion.
One question more and I have done:
Where's Launcelot, ruler of Behaigne,
With 1 Sigismund, beneath what sun?
But where is now brave Charlemagne!
ENVOI
Where's Claquin now, the good Breton?
Where's the Count Dauphin D'Auvergne,
The last good Duke D'Alen^on?
But where is now brave Charlemagne!
1 The original runs : "Ou est-il ? Ou est son
tayon?" The tayon, or maternal grandfather of
Launcelot of Behaigne (Ladislas of Bohemia), was
the Emperor Sigismund.
Ballade of Vanished Lords
{Ballade des seigneurs du temps jadis)
II
/1pHE Saints, Apostles, where are they,
Vestured in albs and each one stoled
In amict; who by neck did lay;
All sinners by the fiend controlled?
And even as these are gone, behold,
So all must go their fate to find,
Servants and sons, and young and old:
So much carries away the wind.
And Constantine's successor — say,
Where is he with his hands of gold?
And the French king who stands for ay
Above all kings whose tales are told;
Who, praising God and saintly souled,
Built convents, and high altars shrined?
Where are the names of these enrolled?
So much carries away the wind.
(24 )
Ballade of Vanished Lords
And where lie now the Dauphins, pray,
Of Vienne and Grenoble, cold?
The Lords of Dijon, Salins, aye,
And Dolles and others manifold?
Their trumpeters and heralds bold,
Pursuivants, men of every kind?
Are not their mouths well filled with
mould?
So much carries away the wind.
ENVOI
By Death are princes all controlled,
Ev'n as by Death the herd and hind,
And all at last come to his fold.
So much carries away the wind.
The Lament of L,a Belle Heaul-
miere
(Les Regrets de la belle heaidndere)
METHOUGHT I heard the mournful
sigh
Of her who was the town's mistress,
Lamenting that her youth should die
And speaking thus in sore distress:
"Ah foul age, in your bitterness
And hate, why have you used me so?
What hinders me in my duress
Ending this life so useless now?
"Broken hast thou the spell so fair
That beauty once gave unto me;
Merchants and clerks and priests once were
My slaves, and all men born to see
Were mine, and paid gold royally
For that without which hearts must break,
For that which now, if offered free,
No thief in all the town would take.
( 26 )
La Belle Heaulmiere
"And many a man have I refused —
So little wisdom did I show —
For love of one black thief who used
My youth as bee the flowering bow.
Though, spite my wiles, I loved him so,
And gave him that which I had sold,
For love he paid me many a blow;
Yet well I know he loved my gold.
"Though many a blow and many a kick
He gave me, still my love held true;
Though he bound faggots stick by stick
Upon my back, one kiss would do
To wipe away the bruises blue
And my forgetfulness to win;
And how much am I fatter through
That rogue? whose pay was shame and
sin!
"But he is dead this thirty years,
And I remain, by age brought low,
And when I think, alas! in tears
Of what was then and what is now,
And when my nakedness I show
And all my ruined change I see,
Aged, dried, and withered, none may know
The rage that fills the heart of mel
( 27)
La Belle Heaulmiere
"Where now is gone my forehead white,
Those eyebrows arched, that golden hair,
Those eyes that once, so keen of sight,
Held all men by their gaze so fair;
The straight nose, great nor small, and
where
Those little ears, that dimpled chin,
The fine complexion, pale yet clear,
The mouth just like a rose within?
"Small shoulders with the grace that dips,
The long arms and the lovely hands,
The little breasts, and full-fleshed hips
That once had strong men's arms for bands,
High, broad, and fair as fair uplands
The large reins?
"The forehead wrinkled, hair turned grey,
The eyebrows vanished, eyes grown blind
That once with laughter's light were gay,
Now gone and never more to find;
Nose bent as if beneath some wind,
Ears hanging, mossed with hair unclean,
Life's colour now to Death's inclined,
Chin peaked, and lips like weeds from Seine.
( 28 )
La Belle Heaulmiere
"And so all human beauty ends:
The arms grown short, the hands grown
thin,
Shoulders like two fair ruined friends,
The breasts like sacks all shrunken in,
The flanks that now no gaze could win;
That's best forgot.
The thighs that once were firm, like skin
O'er sausage-meat for stain and spot.
"So we regret the good old times,
And squatting round the fire sit we,
Old tripes, to watch the flame that climbs
And in the fire our past to see.
Like sticks to feed a fire we be,
A fire that soon is Jit and done;
Yet had we beauty once — pardie! —
Which is the tale of many a one."
Ballade of La Belle Heaulmiere
to the Filles de jfoie
(Ballade de la belle heaulmiere aux files de
joie)
NOW hearken, La Belle Gantiere,
Scholar of mine, to me,
And Blanche la Savetiere
Fate in my fortune see.
Take right and left your fee
From men, however placed,
For age-bound women be
Useless as coin defaced.
And you, la Saulcissiere
Who danceth so cunningly,
Guillemette la Tapissiere,
Age must your windows free
Shutter, whilst Love, pardie!
Turns, as from some old priest,
Useless for love, as ye,
Useless as coin defaced.
( 30 )
La Belle Heaulmiere
Jeannette la Chaperonniere,
Guard thee from knavery;
Katherine FEsperonniere
Turn not a man from thee
Who pays — for thy beauty
Endures not, and displaced
Youth leaves Humanity <
Useless as coin defaced.
ENVOI
Girls, would you gather why
My tears and my sighs I waste?
Behold me, as here I lie
Useless as coin defaced.
Double Ballade of Good Counsel
(Double ballade sur le mesme propos)
GO, love as much as love you will,
And forth to feasts and banquets
stray,
Yet at the end there comes the bill,
And broken heads at break of day.
For light loves make men beasts of prey,
They bent towards idols, Solomon,
From Samson took his eyes away.
Happy is he not so undone.
For this did Orpheus, who could thrill
With pipe and flute the mountains grey,
Come near to death where stands to kill
Four-headed Cerberus at bay;
Also Narcissus, fair as May,
Who in a deep, dark pool did drown
For love of light loves fair and gay.
Happy is he not so undone.
( 32 )
Double Ballade of Good Counsel
Sardana, praised in knighthood still,
Who conquered Crete, did yet betray
His manhood, nor disdained the frill
And skirt for this — or so they say.
King David, great in prophecy,
Forgot his God for sight of one
Who, washing, did her thigh display.
Happy is he not so undone.
And Amnon was a man until
Foul love cast him in disarray;
Feigning to eat of tarts, his skill
Overcame his sister till she lay
Dishonoured, which was incest, aye,
Most foul. See Herod, who made John
Headless, beneath a dancer's sway.
Happy is he not so undone.
Next of myself — most bitter pill —
I, thrashed as washerwomen bray
Their clothes, in nature's deshabille
Stood nakedly — and wherefore, pray?
Ask Katherine of Vaucelles, malgre
Noe had most part of the fun.
Such wedding gloves no loves repay;
Happy is he not so undone.
( 33 )
Double Ballade of Good Counsel
But that young man impressible,
Turn him from those young maidens, nay,
Burn him upon the witches' hill,
He'd turn in burning to the fray.
They're sweet to him as civit — aye,
But trust them and your peace is gone;
Brunette or blonde one law obey.
Happy is he not so undone.
Ballade Written for his Mother
at her Request
(Ballade que feit Villon a la requeste de sa mere)
T ADY of Heaven, earthly Queen,
*— ' Who hath all hell in empiry,
Receive a humble Christian
Whose prayer it is to dwell with thee.
Though I am worthless, as you see,
Thy boundless grace, that I would win,
Is greater far than my great sin.
None sans that grace, unless I lie,
The gates of heaven may enter in.
And in this faith I live and die.
Say to thy Son, on Him I lean,
His grace shall wash my sins from me,
He who forgave t' Egyptian;
Theophilus, also, though he
Long time was held in Satan's fee.
( 35 )
Ballade Written for his Mother
Preserve me that my soul within
Finds joy where sorrow long hath bin,
Virgin, through whose grace even I
May touch God through the wafer thin.
And in this faith I live and die.
A poor old woman — old and lean —
Am I, who know not letters three,
Yet in the cloister have I seen
Heaven in those pictures heavenly.
Where saints and angels ever be
With harps and lutes, and, 'neath their din,
A hell with sinners scorched of skin,
'Twixt joy and fear to thee I fly
Who savest sinners from hell's gin.
And in this faith I live and die.
ENVOI
Thou didst conceive, Princess Virgin,
Jesus, for whom no years begin
Nor end, and who from heaven did spin,
His robe from out our frailty.
Offering to death His youth — I ween
He is our Lord, to us akin,
And in this faith I live and die.
( 36 )
Ballade of Villon to his Mistress
(Ballade de Villon a s'amye)
\ T^ALSE beauty, that has cost me dear,
-F Rude in effect, deceiving sweet,
Love that is more than steel severe,
Name whose letters spell my defeat.
Ruinous charms that my heart did eat,
Pride that kills men cruelly,
Pitiless eyes, will her heart not yet
Turn from disdain and succour me?
Better for me to seek elsewhere;
Well I know that, when at her feet,
Love I can drop no more than care;
Sure 'tis no shame to make retreat.
Haro! unto the small and great
I cry for help, but none I see.
I die, unless that she regret,
Turn from disdain and succour me.
( 37 )
Ballade of Villon to his Mistress
Yet time will yellow turn and sere
Thy face, now like a rose complete.
Then at its running I shall jeer-
But no — for age, that all must meet,
Will have me too ; so ere the heat
Of summer is past and winter be—
And whilst thy beauty still doth wait —
Turn from disdain and succour me.
ENVOI
True Prince of Love, who from thy seat
Over all lovers hath empiry,
This prayer for all true hearts is meet:
Turn from disdain and succour me.
Lay; or, rather^ Rondeau
(JLay, ou plus tost rondeau)
T\ E ATH, I cry out against thee
-*^' Who hast taken my lady away ;
Thy cruelty nought will allay
Till thou takest the life-blood of me.
I have strength nor desire — and she!
What harm did she unto thee — say?
Death!
We were two, yet but one heart had we.
It is dead, and I die, or here stay,
Living, yet lifeless alway,
As the statues without hearts that be,
Death!
Ballade and Prayer
(Ballade et oraison)
FATHER Noah, who planted the vine;
You also Lot, who drank merrily,
And who 'neath the glamour of drink divine
Tasted your daughters' virginity
(Though nought of reproach I make, not
?):
Architriclin, who made drink an art —
I pray you three to this toast reply,
The soul of the good master Jehan Cotart.
Born of your lineage and your line,
He drank of the best and of price most
high,
Never had he a sou to shine,
Yet good wine always could he descry.
Drinkers never yet found him shy,
None from his pot could make him part.
Noble lords, let no man decry
The soul of the good master Jehan Cotart.
( 40 )
Ballade and Prayer
Oft have I seen him totter and twine
When he'd go off on his bed to lie.
He banged his head when once in wine
On a butcher's stall, and was like to die.
High or low, or far or nigh,
Never such drinker could match your heart.
So let it in if you hear it sigh,
The soul of the good master Jehan Cotart.
ENVOI
Prince, 'twas ever and ay his cry,
ffHaro! Lord! how my throat does smart!"
Pray where it is 'tis no longer dry,
The soul of the good master Jehan Cotart.
The Ballade of the Bridegroom
(Ballade que Villon dorma a un gentilhomme
nouvellement marie)
The two first verses give in acrostic the name Am-
broise de Lorede, in the original and also in the
translation.
AT dawn of day the hawk claps wing,
Moved by his life's nobility
Before the day his song to fling,
Returns, and to the lure sweeps he.
Over you thus desire leads me,
Joyous, and, striking towards you, fleet,
Swiftly to take love's food from thee.
Espoused for this do we two meet.
Dear one, my heart to thee shall cling
Ever till Death makes his decree.
Laurel all victory to bring!
Olive to make the shadows flee!
( 42 )
The Ballade of the Bridegroom
Reason has written it that we
Ever shall find our life complete,
Devoted thus eternally.
Espoused for this do we two meet.
More — when to me comes suffering —
Fortune brings such fatality —
Before thy gaze all-conquering,
Driven like smoke by wind 'twill be.
And I will loose no husbandry,
Nor seed sown in thy garden, sweet;
Its fruit shall hold my imagry.
Espoused for this do we two meet.
ENVOI
Princess, behold my fealty.
Turn eyes ; my heart lies at thy feet.
Thy heart is mine, mine yours, now see.
Espoused for this do we two meet.
[The Bridegroom was Robert d'Estouteville, the
Bride, Ambroise de Lorede. Ambroise de Lorede
died only a few years later, see p. 209.]
Ballade entitled^ "Les Contredictz
de Franc-Gontier"
(Ballade intitulee "Les Contredictz de Franc-
Gontier")
Who was an apostle of the simple life, writing in its
praise a little book entitled, "Les Dits de Franc-
Gontier/' which Villon now attacks.
ON a soft-cushioned couch a fat priest
lay.
Beside a brazier in a room lay he
With arrased walls, and there, as fair as
day,
Beside him lay the lady Sydonie.
They drank of hypocras, and, laughing
free,
Kissed and took joy with never thought
or sigh,
Heedless of death and putting all care by.
And knew I, even as I spied on these,
Who cared for nought, there is beneath the
sky
No treasure but to live and have one's ease.
( 44 )
"Contredictx de Franc-Gontier"
If Franc-Gontier had always lived that
way
With his companion, Helaine, more sweetly
Would they have lived, unforced, through
hunger's sway,
To rub their crusts with onions, he and
she.
Their cabbage-soup has little charm for
me,
I mean no ill — but, in sincerity,
Is it not better on a couch to lie
Than under roses, and the skies that
freeze?
Ask me what would I, and I make reply,
No treasure but to live and have one's
ease.
Eating black bread, or bread of oatmeal
grey,
And drinking water all the year, par die!
Not all the singing-birds, however gay,
From here to Babylon on every tree
Would tempt me for a day for such a fee.
For God's sake, then, let Franc-Gontier re-
piy
To Helaine's kisses where the wild birds
fly.
( 45 )
"Contr edict* de Franc-Gontier"
Beneath the eglantine, the summer trees.
No treasure find I in such husbandry.
No treasure but to live and have one's ease.
ENVOI
Prince, on these two opinions cast thine
eye;
But as for me — though I would none dis-
please—
I heard in childhood that man may descry
No treasure but to live and have one's
ease.
(46)
Ballade of the W^omen of Paris
(Ballade des femmes de Paris)
'T^AKE those famed for language fair,
Past, or in the present tense,
Each good as Love's messenger:
Florentines, Venetiennes.
Roman girls, Lombardiennes,
Girls whose names Geneva carries,
Piedmont girls, Savoysiennes ;
No lips speak like those of Paris.
Though for grace of language are
Famed the Neapolitans,
And in chattering Germans share
Pride of place with Prussians.
Taking Greeks, Egyptians,
Austrians, whom no rhyme marries,
Spanish girls, Castillians;
No lips speak like those of Paris.
( 47 )
Ballade of the Women of Paris
Bretonnes, Swiss, their language mar,
Gascon girls, Toulousiennes ;
Two fish- fags would close their jar
On Petit Pont, Lorrainiennes,
English girls, Calaisiennes—
All the world my memory harries —
Picard girls, Valenciennes;
No lips speak like those of Paris.
ENVOI
Prince, to fair Parisiennes
Give the prize, nor turn where tarries
One who saith "Italians."
No lips speak like those of Paris.
Belle Le$on De Villon aux En
fans Perdux
(Belle Lefon de Villon aux ewfans perduz)
FAIR children, in waste ye strew
The roses that for you blow.
My clerks, who can clutch like glue,
If ye journey to Montipippeau,
Or Reul, have a care, ye know
For the dice that there he threw —
Risking a second throw —
Was lost Colin de Caileux.
This is no little game,
For body and soul are fee;
If ye lose, from a death of shame
Repentance will not save ye.
And the winner, what gain has he?
No Dido for wife he's bought.
Bad, and a fool, must be
The man who risks all for nought.
( 49 )
Belle Lecon De Villon
Now listen unto this song,
For it is the truth I say,
A barrel will last not long
By hearth or in woods of May.
Money soon runs away,
And when it is spent and gone
Where is your heritage, pray?
Evil brings good to none.
Ballade of Good Doctrine to those
of Evil Life
(Ballade de bonne doctrme)
"Tout aux tavernes et aux files"
BE ye carriers of bulls,1
Cheats at dice — whate'er ye be,
Coiners — they who risk like fools,
Boiling for their felony.
Traitors perverse — so be ye —
Thieves of gold, or virgin's pearls,
Where goes what ye get in fee?
All on taverns and on girls.
Song, jest, cymbals, lutes —
Don these signs of minstrelsy.
Farce, imbroglio, play of flutes,
Make in hamlet or city.
Act in play or mystery,
Gain at cards, or ninepin hurls.
All your profits, where go they?
All on taverns and on girls.
1 Smugglers of Papal bulls.
( 51 )
Ballade of Good Doctrine
Turn, before your spirit cools,
To more honest husbandry;
Grooms of horses be, or mules,
Plough the fields and plant the tree.
If you've no Latinity,
No more learning than the churls,
Work — nor cast your money free
All on taverns and on girls.
ENVOI
Stockings, pourpoint, drapery,
Every rag that round you furls,
Ere you've done, will go, you'll see,
All on taverns and on girls.
Lays
ON return from that hard prison
Where life near was reft from me,
If Fate still shows cruelty,
Judge if she shows not misprision!
For it seems to me, with reason,
She hath found satiety,
On return.
For the Fate is but unreason,
That still wills my misery.
Grant, God! I find sanctuary,
In Thy house from her dark treason,
On return!
Epitaph
HERE IN THIS PLACE SLEEPS ONE WHOM
LOYE
CAUSED, THROUGH GREAT CEUELTY, TO
FALL,
A LITTLE SCHOLAR, POOR ENOUGH,
WHOM FRANCOIS VILLON MEN DID CALL.
No SCRAP OF LAND OR GARDEN SMALL,
HE OWNED. HE GATE HIS GOODS AWAY.
TABLE AND TRESTLES, BASKETS — ALL.
FOR GOD'S SAKE SAY FOR HIM THIS LAY!
Rondel
EPOSE eternal give to him
O Lord, and Light that never dies;
Even unto him whose platter lies
Empty of meat — yea, even to him
Who standeth bald, in turnip trim,
Sans beard, sans hair above the eyes.
Repose!
Fate sent him forth to exile dim,
And struck him hard, above the thighs;
Yet clear he cried, as still he cries,
"Lord, I appeal!" yea, even to him
Repose!
Ballade
(Ballade pour laquelle Villon crye mercy a
chascim)
Chartreux and to Celestins,
To Mendicants and to devotes,
To idlers and to cliquepatins,
To servants and to files mignottes,
Wearing surcotes and justes cottes,
To all the young bloods that you see
Who wear o'er ankles soft-tanned boots:
To all these folk I cry Mercy!
To girls whose breasts are naked twins
To draw to them the eye that gloats,
To brawlers, clowns whose clamour dins,
To showmen training their marmottes,
To Folz and Folles, Sotz and Sottes
Who pass by whistling frank and free,
To widows and to mariottes:
To all these folk I cry Mercy!
( 56 )
Ballade
Except those traitors — chiens mastins!
Who made me gnaw their rotten crusts
And drink cold water for my sins
For whom I care not now three crottes.
I'd make them (here for words place
dots) . . .*
But that I lie here sick, pardie!
No matter, to avoid their plots,
To all these folk I cry Mercy!
ENVOI
So long as their stout ribs get lots
Of mallet-blows dealt heavily.
Or strokes from whips with leaden knots,
To all these folk I cry Mercy!
1 Unprintable.
Villon s Last Ballade
(Ballade pour servir de conclusion)
HERE is closed the Testament
And finished of poor Villon.
Let your steps to his grave be bent
When you hear the carillon.
Vesture of crimson don,
For a martyr of love lies low.
So .swore he on his callon 1
When he turned from the world to go.
And I know what he said he meant,
Nor lied, who from love was spun
Like a ball and a wanderer went
From Paris to Rousillon.
Leaving a rag upon
Each hedge for the wind to blow,
So he swore ere his breath was gone,
When he turned from the world to go.
( 58 )
Villon s Last Ballade
And so, with his last sou spent,
He finished his race anon.
Whilst yet for his soul's torment
Love's arrow still spread poison
In his heart, which was heavy undone;
And such was his dying woe
We wondered as looked we on
When he turned from the world to go.
ENVOI
Yet, Prince, in his dying swoon
He turned to the red wine's glow,
And he drank the red wine down
When he turned from the world to go.
(59 )
Letter, in Form of a Ballade, to
his Friends
(Epistre, en -forme de ballade, a ses amis)
Written from the pit in Meung
HAVE pity on me, have pity I pray,
My friends; may I pray you to grant
this grace,
For far from the hawthorn-trees of May
I am flung in this dungeon in this far
place
Of exile, by God and by Fate's disgrace.
New married and young; girls, lovers that
kneel;
Dancers and jugglers that turn the wheel,
Needle-sharp, quick as a dart each one,
Voiced like the bells 'midst the hills that
peal:
Will you leave him like this — the poor
Villon?
( 60 )
Letter to his Friends
Singers who sing without law your lay,
Laughing and jovial in words and ways;
Feather-brained folk, yet always gay,
Who run without coin, good or bad, your
race,
You have left him too long who is dying
apace ;
Makers of ballads for tongues to reel,
Where lighting shows not nor breezes steal
Too late you will praise him when he is
gone,
Around whom the walls are like bands of
steel :
Will you leave him like this — the poor
Villon?
Come hither and gaze on his disarray,
Nobles who know not the tax-man's face,
Who homage to kings nor emperors pay,
Only to God in his Paradise.
Behold him who, Sundays and holidays,
Fasts till like rakes his teeth reveal.
Who after crusts, but never a meal,
Water must suck till his belly's a tun.
With stool nor bed for his back's appeal:
Will you leave him like this — the poor
rillon?
( 61 )
Letter to his Friends
ENVOI
Princes, young, or whom years congeal,
A pardon I pray with the royal seal;
Then hoist me in basket the earth upon.
So even will swine for each other feel,
And rush to help at the hurt one's squeal:
Will you leave him like this — the poor
Villon?
Rondel
GOOD year! good week! good day!
Health, joy, and honour with you
stay,
From Better's door to Best pass through,
And joy in love may God give you.
And for a New Year's gift, I pray
A lady than Helaine more gay,
Whose purse may always gold display;
Live long without age touching you.
Good year! good week! good day!
And when you leave this earthly way
May heavenly joy your heart repay
When caught up to the heavenly blue,
Where one may find the only true
Bliss, without pain or sorrow grey.
Good year! good week! good day!
Rondel
YOUR memory is death to me,
My only good the sight of you;
I swear by all that I hold true
That joy without you cannot be.
When I your face no longer view
I die of sadness, yea — pardie!
Your memory is death to me.
Alas! sweet sister, fair to see,
Have pity on me, for with you
Evil recoils, the sky is blue;
Without you clouds shade land and sea.
Your memory is death to me!
Rondel
TRUE God of Love, turn here thy gaze,
Draw death to me through Death's
dark ways
More hastily.
For I have badly used my days ;
I die of love through Love's delays,
Most certainly.
Grief's weariness upon me preys.
Ballade against the Enemies of
France
(Ballade contre les mesdisans de la France)
may he meet with beasts that
vomit flame,
Like Jason, hunter of the Fleece of Gold,
Or change from man to brute seven years
the same
As King Nebuchadnezzar did, or hold
To heart the times of suffering and pain
The Trojans held for their princess
Helaine,
Or have a place as deep as Tantalus
And Proserpine in hell's infernal house.
May he, like Job, find grief and suffer-
ance,
Prisoned in the same court with Daedalus,
Who could wish ill unto the realm of
France.
( 66 )
Ballade against Enemies of France
For four months let him like the bittern
scream
Head downward, or to the Grand Turk be
sold
For money paid right down and with the
team
Be harnessed like a bull to till the mould;
Or thirty sad years, like to Magdalene,
Live without cloth of wool or linen clean;
Or let him drown the same as Narcissus;
Or hang like Absalom by lengthy tress;
Or swing like Judas, viewed by all ask-
ance.
Let him like Simon Magus die, even thus,
Who could wish ill unto the realm of
France.
For him again may days Octavian gleam
And in his belly molten coin grow cold;
And like Saint Victor crushed, as by a
beam,
Beneath the mill-wheels may his corpse be
rolled;
Or may his breath beneath the deep seas
fail
Like Jonah's in the body of the whale.
( 67 )
Ballade against Enemies of France
Let him be banned for ay from fair
Phoebus,
And damned for ay from Venus amorous,
And cursed by God beyond all utterance,
Even as old was Sardanapalus,
Who could wish ill unto the realm of
France.
ENVOI
Prince, let him forth be borne by ^Eolus
To Glaucus in that forest far from us
Where hope nor peace may ever on him
glance.
For he holds nought in him but worthless-
ness
Who could wish ill unto the realm of
France.
The Shepherd and the Shepherdess
(Ballade)
An imitation of a Song in Ballade form, attributed to
Frangois Villon, 1456.
DEEP in the green woods yesterday
I, wandering, heard the sweet birds
sing:
The nightingale, clear-voiced alway,
And yet more clear the lark on wing.
Returning to my shepherding,
A song came through the trees to me
From maids their fair heads garlanding:
It was the prettiest of the three.
Passing beneath the trees I found
Elise and Marion and Margot
Deep-shadowed where the leaves abound
Singing beneath a hawthorn's snow.
I named them each, and, bowing low,
I prayed and prayed their loves' mercy.
And one made answer to me, "No."
It was the prettiest of the three.
( 69 )
The Shepherd and the Shepherdess
So, standing where the soft shade showers,
My flask full filled with sorrow's wine,
Watching- them pluck the gay spring
flowers,
I prayed them for me flowers to twine.
Beneath the hawthorn's shade benign
One's small hand stole in secrecy
And placed a bunch of flowers in mine.
It was the prettiest of the three.
"And is it so, my shepherd maids?
So unto you I say good-bye.
Too proud are ye for these fair glades."
Then one made answer with a sigh,
And with a sprig of rosemary
Said, "Robinet, return to me
On Monday." Then I caught her eye:
It was the prettiest of the three.
0 nightingale, sweet messenger,
Sing on beneath the starlit sky
And with thy clear voice say to her
That here without her I must die,
And life for ever from me fly,
Whilst pallid Death my corpse shall see.
Fair maid, whom once I loved, good-bye:
1 hear the prettiest of the three.
( 70 )
The Dispute of the Heart and
Body of Francois Villon
Le Debat du Cueur et du Corps de Villon {en
forme de Ballade)
WHAT'S that I hear? It is I, thine
heart,
That holds to thee by a little string.
I have no peace; from my blood I part
Seeing thee here, a wretched thing,
Like a dog whining and shivering —
And why do I so?
For thy pleasures' cost.
Why shouldst thou care?
I feel the frost.
Leave me at peace.
And why?
To dream.
When wilt thou mend?
When childhood's lost.
— I say no more.
It were best, I deem.
What thinkest thou art?
Why, a worthy man.
( 71 ) '
The Dispute
Thirty art thou.
'Tis the age of a mule.
Art thou a child?
Nay!
Tell to me then, is it from Lust thou art
Still a fool, and knowest thou aught
Learned in life's school?
Yea, know I well in milk the flies
Black on the white before mine eyes.
— No more?
What more can I say?
'Twould seem, thou art lost.
Yet even the lost may rise.
I say no more. — It were best, I deem.
I have the sorrow and thou the pain.
If thou wert mad or soft of mind
Then indeed thou mightst hide thy shame;
But if to wickedness thou art blind
Either thy head is a stone, I find,
Or else from good and from grace 'tis shy.
What unto this canst thou make reply?
I will find rest in Death his stream.
— God what a hope!
How thy tongue doth fly!
I say no more.
It were best, I deem.
( 72 )
The Dispute
Whence came this ill?
From my distress.
When Saturn packed my traps for me
He packed these ills.
What stupidness!
Slave art thou to stupidity.
Remember Solomon, what saith he?
A wise man power hath o'er the stars
And on their bent for peace or wars.
—I know that they made me as I seem.
What sayst thou?
Nothing, my faith hath bars.
I say no more.
It were best, I deem.
ENVOI
Wouldst thou be living?
God help me, yes !
Then must thou
What?
Find penitence. Read
And read what?
In deep science, and turn from folly
To truth's white gleam. Wilt thou do this?
I will find me sense.
Do so, or worse may come perchance.
I say no more.
It were best, I deem.
( 73 )
Le Petit Testament
LAN quatre cens cinquante et six,
Je, Francis Villon, escollier,
Considerant, de sens rassis,
Le frain aux dents, franc au collier,
Qu'on doit ses ceuvres conseiller,
Comme Vegece le racompte,
Saige Remain, grant conseiller,
Ou autrement on se mescompte.
ii
En ce temps que j'ay dit devant,
Sur le Noel, morte saison,
Lorsque les loups vivent de vent,
Et qu'on se tient en sa maison,
Pour le frimas, pres du tison,
Me vint le vouloir de briser
La tres-amoureuse prison
Qui souloit mon cueur desbriser.
( 74)
The Little Testament
SITTING in a room of the house called
the Porte Rouge in the cloister of St.
Benoist, in the year 1456, Fra^ois Villon,
scholar, clear of sense, bit between teeth
and free in collar, takes notice that a man
(to use the words of old Vegetius, the wise
Roman) must look after his work, else he
comes to grief.
ii
He points out that this same year, in the
dead season before Christmas, when the
wolves are sniffing the wind and every one
sits by the chimney-corner, the desire came
on him to break from the prison in which
Love held him (through the agency of
Katherine de Vaucelles, the niece of Pierre
de Vaucelles, one of the canons of St.
Benoist) .
( 75 )
Le Petit Testament
in
Je le feis en telle fa9on,
Voyant Celle devant mes yeulx
Consentant a ma deff a^on,
Sans que ja luy en fust de mieulx:
Dont je me deul et plains aux Cieulx,
En requerant d'elle vengeance
A tous les dieux venerieux,
Et du grief d'amours allegence.
IV
Et se j'ay prins en ma faveur
Ces doulx regars et beaulx semblans
De tres-decevante saveur,
Me trespers9ans jusques aux flancs,
Bien ilz ont vers moy les piez blancs
Et me faillent au grant besoing.
Planter me fault autres complans
Et frapper en un autre coing.
Le regard de Celle m'a prins,
Qui m'a este felonne et dure:
Sans ce qu'en riens aye mesprins,
Veult et ordonne que j 'endure
( 76 )
The Little Testament
in
More determined is he on this, inasmuch
as his lady is utterly heartless. He calls
on the gods whom it concerns to take ven-
geance on her, calls on Love for help.
IV
Of all the pleasant past only memories
remain; therefore now he must plant new
seed and find some new place.
To escape from her cruelty, that will kill
him, he must fly.
( 77 )
Le Petit Testament
La mort, et que plus je ne dure:
Si n'y voy secours, que fuir.
Rompre veult la vive souldure,
Sans mes piteux regrets ouir!
VI
Pour obvier a ces danglers,
Mon mieulx est, je croy, de partir.
Adieu! Je m'en voys a Angiers,
Puisqu'elT ne me veult impartir
Sa grace, il convient despartir.
Par elle meurs, les membres sains!
Au fort, je meurs amant martir,
Du nombre des amoureux saints!
VII
Combien que le despart me soit
Dur, si fault-il que je m'esloingne.
Comme mon povre sens co^oit,
Autre que moy est en queloingne,
Qui plus billon et plus or soingne,
Plus jeune et mieulx garny d'humeur.
C'est pour moy piteuse besoingne
Dieu en vueille ouir ma clameur!
( 78 )
The Little Testament
VI
He will go to Angers. He is dying for
her sake, though his limbs are whole and
sound; and will be numbered amid those
martyred saints of love!
vn
He sayeth more to the same effect, with
a prayer to God for pity.
Le Petit Testament
VIII
Et puisque departir me fault,
Et du retour ne suis certain:
Je ne suis homme sans deff ault,
Ne qu'autre d'assier ne d'estain.
Vivre aux humains est incertain,
Et apres mort n'y a relaiz.
Je m'en voys en pays loingtain
Si establiz ce present Laiz.
IX
Premierement, au nom du Pere,
Du Filz et du Saint-Esperit,
Et de la glorieuse Mere
Par qui grace point ne perit,
Je laisse, de par Dieu, mon bruit
A maistre Guillaume Villon,
Qui en 1'honneur de ce nom bruit
Mes tentes et mon pavilion.
A Celle doncques que j'ay diet,
Qui si durement m'a chasse
Que j'en suis de joye interdict
Et de tout plaisir deschasse,
( 80 )
The Little Testament
VIII
Since he may never return, he makes this
Will.
IX
In the name of the Trinity and the Virgin
he leaves to his adoptive father, Master
Guillaume Villon, his fair name and his ar-
morial bearings. ("Dans la chevalerie un
chef de f amille laissait au plus proche heri-
tier de son nom les tentes et les pavilions qui
portaient ses armoiries, ses couleurs et ses
devises.")
To the woman who has so cruelly used
him he leaves his dead heart, praying God
to forgive her!
Le Petit Testament
Je laisse mon cueur enchasse,
Palle, piteux, mort et transy:
Elle m'a ce mal pourchasse,
Mais Dieu lui en face mercy!
XI
Item, a maistre Ythier, marchant,
Auquel je me sens bien tenu,
Laisse mon branc d'assier tranchant,
Et a maistre Jehan le Cornu,
Qui est en gaige detenu
Pour ung escot huit solz montant:
Je vueil, selon le contenu,
Qu'on leur livre, en le racheptant.
XII
Item, je laisse a Sainct-Amant
Le Cheval Blanc, avec la Mulle,
Et a Blaru mon dyamant
Et TAsne raye qui reculle.
Et le Decret qui articulle:
Omnis utriusque seocus,
Contre la Carmeliste bulle,
Laisse aux curez, pour mettre sus,
( 82 )
The Little Testament
XI
He leaves his crooked sword of steel to
Master Ythier, merchant, that he may get
it out of pawn, where it lies pledged for
eight sols, and give it to Jehan le Cornu.
XII
He leaves to Saint- Amant (a drunkard)
the Mule Tavern and the White Horse; to
Blaru his diamond and the Striped Ass
(tavern) ; and the Decretal which begins
Omnis utriusque seacus to the priests. (See
Grand Testament, v, LXXXVII.)
Le Petit Testament
XIII
Item, a Jehan Tronne, boucher,
Laisse le mouton franc et tendre,
Et ung tachon pour esmoucher
Le boeuf couronne, qu'on veult vendre,
Et la vache qu'on ne peult prendre :
Le vilain qui 1'a, trousse au col,
S'il ne la rend, qu'on le puist pendre
Et estrangler d'ung bon licol!
XIV
Et a maistre Robert Vallee,
Povre clergeron de Parlement,
Qui ne tient ne mont ne vallee,
J'ordonne principalement
Qu'on luy bailie legerement
Mes brayes, estans aux trumellieres,
Pour coeiFer plus honestement
S'amye Jehanneton de Millieres.
xv
Pource qu'il est de lieu honeste,
Fault qu'il soit mieulx recompense,
Car le Saint-Esprit 1'admoneste,
Non obstant qu'il est insense:
( 84 )
The Little Testament
XIII
To Jehan Tronne, the butcher, he leaves
his fat sheep and a fly-whisk to whisk the
flies off his dubious beef and cow-meat. If
the man who has the sheep in care won't
give it up, let him be strangled.
XIV
To Master Robert Vallee (clerk of Par-
liament) he bequeaths his breeches, that the
said M. R. V. may clothe his mistress, Je-
hanneton de Millieres, more respectably.
XV
Also to Master Robert Vallee he be-
queaths his Art of Memory, to help to bal-
ance his want of brains.
Le Petit Testament
Pour ce, je me suis pourpense,
Qu'on lui bailie FArt de memoire
A recouvrer sur Malpense,
Veu qu'il n'a sens mais qu'une aulmoire.
XVI
Item, pour asseurer la vie
Du dessusdict maistre Robert . . .
Pour Dieu! n'y ayez point d'envie!
Mes parens, vendez mon haubert,
Et que 1' argent, ou la pluspart,
Soit employe, dedans ces Pasques,
Pour achepter a ce poupart
Une fenestre empres Saint-Jacques.
XVII
Item, laisse et donne en pur don
Mes gands et ma hucque de soye
A mon amy Jacques Cardon,
Le gland aussi d'une saulsoye,
Et tous les jours une grosse oye
Et ung chappon de haulte gresse,
Dix muys de vin blanc comme croye,
Et deux proces que trop n'engresse.
( 86 )
The Little Testament
XVI
Also he implores his heirs to sell his
hauberk and buy the same Robert Vallee a
little shop near Saint Jacques, that he may
be able to live.
XVII
Item. He leaves his gloves and his silk
hood to his friend, Jacques Cardon
("Cardon avait rheumeur galante, etait
avare et voulait sans doute faire 1'elegant"
— Prompsault) ; also to him every day a fat
goose, or capon; also a vat of white wine
and two lawsuits, lest he should grow too
fat — also the acorns that are found on wil-
lows ! ! !
Le Petit Testament
xvm
Item, je laisse a ce noble homme
Rene de Montigny troys chiens:
Aussi, a Jehan Raguyer, la somme
De cent francs, prins sur fous mes biens.
Mais quoy! Je n'y comprens en riens
Ce que je pourray acquerir:
On ne doit trop pendre des siens,
Ne ses amis trop requerir.
XIX
Item, au seigneur de Grigny
Laisse la garde de Nygon,
Et six chiens plus qu'a Montigny,
Vicestre, chastel et donjon:
Et a ce malostru Chan j on,
Mouton qui le tient en proces,
Laisse troys coups d'ung escourgeon,
Et coucher, paix et aise, es ceps.
xx
Et a maistre Jacques Raguyer.
Je laisse FAbreuvouer Popin,
Pesches, poires, sucre, figuier,
Tous jours le choix d'ung bon lopin,
( 88 )
The Little Testament
XVIII
Item. He leaves three dogs to Rene de
Montigny (this same Rene was one of his
accomplices in ill-doing; he was hanged for
sacrilege in 1457), and a hundred francs to
Jehan Raguyer (one of the sergeants of the
Provostry of Paris).
XIX
Item. To the Seigneur de Grigny (one
of his companions, a coiner) he leaves the
castle of Nygon (an old ruined tower where
thieves used to hide, close to Paris gates,
and by the river) and six dogs more than
to Montigny; also the Bicetre — and to that
villain Chan j on three strokes of a scourge
and imprisonment for life.
xx
He leaves the Abreuvoir Popin to
Jacques Raguyer and the run of his teeth
at the Pomme du Pin.
( 89 )
Le Petit Testament
Le trou de la Pomme de pin
Le doz aux rains, au feu la plante,
Emmaillote en jacopin,
Et qui vouldra planter, si plante.
XXI
Item, a maistre Jehan Mautainct,
A maistre Pierre Basannier,
Le gre du seigneur, qui attainct
Troubles, forfaits, sans espargnier
Et a mon procureur Fournier
Bonnetz courtz, chausses semellees,
Taillees sur mon cordouennier,
Pour porter durant ces gellees.
XXII
Item, au Chevalier du guet,
Le heaulme je luy establis:
Et aux pietons qui vont d'aguet,
Tastonnant par ces establis,
Je leur laisse deux beaulx rubis:
La Lanterne et la Pierre-au-Let . . .
Voire-mais, j'auray les Trends licts,
S'ilz me meinent en Chastellet.
( 90 )
The Little Testament
Item. To maistre Jehan Mautainct and
maistre Pierre Basannier "le gre du seig-
neur," which punishes felonies, and to Four-
nier (the lieutenant-criminel of the Pro-
vostry of Paris) leather belonging to Villon
that lies at the cordwainer's ready to make
up into caps and shoes.
XXII
Item. To the Captain of the Watch a
helmet (the heaulme was a closed helmet
from which one could scarcely see any-
thing), and to his men, who are always
searching for thieves, he leaves two ruhies.
La Lanterne and la Pierre-au-Let. The
rubies are obscure. "Rubies de taverne
qu'il avoit au visage — ?" (Clement Marot).
Le Petit Testament
XXIII
Item, a Perrenet Marchant,
Qu'on dit le Bastard de la Barre,
Pource qu'il est ung bon marchant,
Luy laisse trois gluyons de fouarre,
Pour estendre dessus la terre
A faire Famoureux mestier,
Ou il luy f auldra sa vie querre,
Car il n'eschet autre mestier.
XXIV
Item, au Loup et a Chollet,
Je laisse a la foys ung canart,
Prins sur les murs, comme on squloit,
Ou vers les fossez, sur le tard;
Et a chascun un grant tabart
De cordelier, jusques aux pieds,
Busclie, charbon et poys au lart,
Et mes houseaulx sans avantpiedz.
XXV
Item, je laisse, et en pitie,
A troys petis enf ans tous nudz,
Nommez en ce present traictie,
Povres orphelins impourveuz,
( 92 )
The Little Testament
XXIII
To the merchant Perrenet, otherwise
named the Bastard de la Barre, he leaves
three trusses of straw to make a bed for
his amorous encounters. (This has some
obscure reference to Perrenet's coat of
arms.)
XXIV
To Jehan le Loup and Casin Chollet
(duck- thieves) he bequeaths a duck, caught
as of old in the moat of Paris ; also a friar's
robe, wood, charcoal, bacon, peas, and his
old boots. The robe to hide their plunder.
XXV
This verse might seem to stand alone, like
an angel at a masquerade, were it not that it
is now believed to be ironical. He speaks of
three poor children, naked as worms. He
wishes them to be provided for, at least till
the winter is over.
Le Petit Testament
Tous deschaussez, tous despourveuz,
Et desnuez comme le ver:
J'ordonne qu'ils seront pourveuz,
Au moins pour passer cest yver.
XXVI
Premierement, Colin Laurens,
Girard Gossoyn et Jehan Marceau,
Desprins de biens et de parens,
Et n'ont vaillant Tanse d'ung seau:
Chascun de mes biens ung f aisseau,
Ou quatre blancs, si Tayment mieulx.
Ilz mangeront le bon morceau,
Ces enfans, quand je seray vieulxl
XXVII
Item, ma nomination
Que j'ay de 1'Universite,
Laisse, par resignation,
Pour forclore d'adversite
Povres clercs de ceste cite,
Soubz cest intendit contenuz:
Charite m'y a incite,
Et Nature, les voyant nudz.
The Little Testament
XXVI
He gives the names of the little children,
leaving each a share of his goods, or four
blancs. According to the latest commenta-
tors, these poor children were, in reality,
three of the wealthiest money lenders of
Paris.
XXVII
To rescue some poor clerks, he leaves his
right of nomination at the University, in-
cited by charity and seeing them quite
naked. (Ironical.)
Le Petit Testament
XXVIII
C'est maistre Guillaume Cotin
Et maistre Thibault de Vitry,
Deux povres clercs, parlans latin,
Paisibles enfans, sans estry,
Humbles, bien chantans au lectry.
Je leur laisse cens recevoir
Sur la maison Guillot Gueuldry,
En attendant de mieulx avoir.
XXIX
Item, et je adjoinctz a la Crosse
Celle de la rue Sainct-Antoine,
Et ung billart de quoy on crosse,
Et tous les jours plain pot de Seine,
Aux pigons qui sont en 1'essoine,
Enserrez soubz trappe voliere,
Et mon mirouer bel et ydoyne,
Et la grace de la geoliere.
XXX
Item, je laisse aux hospitaux
Mes chassis tissus d'araignee,
Et aux gisans soubz les estaux,
Chascun sur 1'ceil une grongnee,
( 96 )
The Little Testament
XXVIII
He gives their names, and bequeaths
them the rent of the Maison Guillot
Gueuldry (the Pillory).
XXIX
Also the house in the rue Saint Antoine
(the Bastille) — the stick with which pris-
oners were beaten — and every day a pot of
Seine water, also his mirror, and the good
graces of the jaileress.
XXX
To the hospitals he leaves his curtains,
made of spiders'-webs. To the vagabonds
who sleep under the butchers' stalls, each
a patch on the eye, and power to shiver,
( 97 )
Le Petit Testament
Trembler a chiere renffrongnee,
Maigres, velluz et morfonduz
Chausses courtes, robbe rongnee,
Gelez, meurdriz et enf onduz.
XXXI
Item, je laisse a mon barbier
Les rongneures de mes cheveulx,
Plainement et sans descombier;
Au savetier, mes souliers vieulx,
Et au f rippier, mes habitz tieulx
Que, quant ainsi je les delaisse,
Pour moins qu'ilz ne cousterent neufz,
Charitablement je leur laisse.
XXXII
Item, je laisse aux Mendians,
Aux Filles-Dieu et aux Beguynes,
Savoureux morceaulx et frians,
Chappons, pigons, grasses gelines,
Et puis prescher les Quinze Signes,
Et abatre pain a deux mains.
Carmes chevaulchent nos voisines,
Mais cela ne m'est que du mains.
( 98 )
The Little Testament
and whine and beg with success (the eye-
patch doubtless to be part of the malin-
gerer's disguise). See Hugo's description
of the Cour des Miracles.
XXXI
To his barber he leaves the clippings
of his hair, without any deductions; to his
cobbler all his old boots ; to his tailor his old
clothes.
XXXII
To the Mendicant Orders, the Filles-
Dieu, and the Beguines he leaves capons
and fat chickens and limitless bread on the
understanding that they continue to preach
the fifteen signs. (Duchat says that the
Mendicant Orders invented fifteen signs, or
prodigies, foretelling the last judgment.)
Le Petit Testament
XXXIII
Item, laisse le Mortier d'or
A Jehan, Tespicier de la Garde,
Et une potence a Sainct-JMor,
Pour f aire ung broyer a moustarde,
A celluy qui feit Favant-garde,
Pour faire sur moy grief z exploitz:
De par moy, sainct Antoine Farde !
Je ne luy feray autre laiz.
xxxiv
Item, je laisse a Mairebeuf
Et a Nicolas de Louvieulx,
A chascun 1'escaille d'un oeuf,
Plaine de francs et d'escus vieulx.
Quant au concierge de Gouvieulx,
Pierre de Ronseville, ordonne,
Pour donner, en attendant mieulx
Escus telz que prince les donne.
xxxv
Finalement, en estrivant,
Ce soir, seullet, estant en bonne,
Dictant ces laiz et descripvant,
Je ouys la cloche de Sorbonne,
( 100 )
The Little Testament
XXXIII
Item. He leaves the Mortier d'Or (the
most famous grocers in Paris had for sign
a golden mortar; every house in Paris had
some sign to distinguish it before the art
of numbering houses was discovered) to
Jehan the grocer of la Garde. Also the gib-
bet from Sainct-Mor as a pestle to pound
his mustard with; see Grand Testament,,
verses cxxvn and cxxvm. The end of the
verse is obscure.
xxxiv
He leaves to Mairebeuf and Nicolas de
Louvieulx, each one, the shell of an egg
filled quite full with francs and ecus (a lot
it would hold). And he gives Pierre de
Ronseville, Governor of Gouvieulx, all the
ecus paid by Princes who visit the place to
share amongst the warders (who doubtless
were once his jailers).
xxxv
Lastly, writing here alone to-night, he
hears the Angelus ringing from the Sor-
bonne (nine o'clock) .
( 101 )
Le Petit Testament
Qui tous jours a neuf heures sonne
Le Salut que TAnge predit:
Cy suspendis et cy mys bourne,
Pour prier, comme le cueur dit.
xxxvi
Ce faisant, je me entre-oubliay,
Non pas par force de vin boire,
L'entendement comme lie;
Lors je senty dame Memoire
Rescondre et mectre en son aulmoire,
Sur especes collaterals,
Oppinative f aulce et voire
Et autres intellectualles.
XXXVII
Et mesmement Textimative,
Par quoy la perspective vient,
Similative, formative,
Desquelles souvent il advient
Que, par leur trouble, homme devient
Fol et lunaticque par moys:
Je Tay leu, et bien m'en souvient,
En Aristote aucunes fois.
( 102 )
The Little Testament
He stops writing to offer up a prayer.
xxxvi
This verse and verses xxxvii, xxxvui,
and xxxix which follow were published for
the first time by Prompsault. It is almost
certain that Villon was not the author of
verses xxxvn and xxxvui.
XXXVII
Unauthentic.
( 103 )
Le Petit Testament
XXXVIII
Mais le sensitif s'esveilla
Et esvertua fantasie,
Et tous argutis resveilla,
Car la souveraine partie,
En suspens, estoit amortie
Par oppression d'oubliance,
Qui en moy s'estoit espartie,
Pour montrer des sens Talliance,
XXXIX
Puis que mon sens f ut a repos
Et Tentendement demesle,
Je cuiday finer mon propos.
Mais mon encre estoit gele,
Et mon cierge estoit souflee:
De feu je n'eusse pu finer.
C'estoit assez tartevele.
Pourtant il me convint finer.
( 104 )
The Little Testament
Unauthentic.
xxxix
But his ink is frozen; he has no fire. He
must stop.
( 105 )
Petit Testament
XL
Fait au temps de ladicte date,
Par le bien renomme Villon,
Qui ne mange figue ne date:
Sec et noir comme escouvillon,
II n'a tente ne pavilion,
Qu'il n'ayt laisse a ses amys,
Et n'a plus qu'un peu de billon,
Qui sera tantost a fin mys.
ET HO
CY FINE LE TESTAMENT VILLON
( 106 )
The Little Testament
XL
Given at the time aforesaid by the well-
renowned Villon, half-starved, dry and
black as a flue-brush, without tents or pa-
vilions— which he has left to his friends, with
nothing but a little base coin, and even that
will soon come to an end! ! !
ET HO
CY FINE LE TESTAMENT VILLON
( 107)
Le Grand Testament
EN Tan trentiesme de mon aage,
Que toutes mes hontes j'ay beues,
Ne du tout f ol, ne du tout sage,
Nonobstant maintes peines cues,
Lesquelles j'ay toutes receues
Soubz la main Thibault d'Ausigny:
S'evesque il est, seignant les rues,
Qu'il soit le mien je le reny!
II
Mon seigneur n'est, ne mon evesque;
Soubz luy ne tiens, si n'est en friche;
Foy ne luy doy, ne hommage avecque;
Je ne suis son serf ne sa biche.
Peu m'a d'une petite miche
Et de froide eau, tout ung este.
Large ou estroit, moult me fut chiche.
Tel luy soit Dieu, qu'il m'a este.
( 108 )
The Great Testament
HE takes up his pen in the thirtieth year
of his age, in which he has drunk so
much shame. He is neither wholly a fool
nor wise man. And who's hand brought
him to this shame? Who's but Thibault
d'Aussigny's, Bishop of Meung (see bal-
lade on p. 60)? Bishop, forsooth! Thi-
bault is no Bishop of his.
II
Neither Bishop nor Lord. He owes no
homage to him, nor is he Thibault's serf
or hind. Thibault has kept him a whole
summer prisoner in a pit, with no food but
bread and water.
May God do likewise to Thibault.
( 109 )
Le Grand Testament
in
Et, s'aucun me vouloit reprendre
Et dire que je el mauldys,
Non fais, si bien le s$ait comprendre,
Et riens de luy je ne mesdys.
Voycy tout le mal que j'en dys:
S'il m'a este misericors,
Jesus, le roy de paradis,
Tel luy soit a Fame et au corps!
IV
S'il m'a este dur et cruel
Trop plus que je ne le racompte,
Je vueil que le Dieu eternel
Luy soit doncq' semblable, a ce compte!
Mais 1'Eglise nous dit et conte
Que prions pour nos ennemis.
Je vous dirai: J'ay tort et honte,
Quoy qu'il m'ait faict, a Dieu remisi
Si prieray pour luy de bon cueur,
Et pour Tame de feu Cotard.
Mais quoy? ce sera doncq par cueur,
Car de lire je suis faitard.
( no )
The Great Testament
in
He has nothing to say against Thibault,
only this: if Thibault showed him mercy,
then may God show mercy to Thibault!
IV
If, on the contrary, Thibault misused him,
then may God do likewise to Thibault
(Amen). The Church teaches one to love
one's enemies. Very well. He will leave
the whole matter to God.
He will also pray for Thibault; and for
the soul of Master Cotart, admitting that
he is not much good at prayer. If Villon
L,e Grand Testament
Priere en feray de Picard:
Si ne la s^ait, voise 1'apprandre,
S'il m'en croyt, ains qu'il soit plus tard,
A Douay, ou a Flsle en Flandre!
VI
Combien que s'il veult que Ton prie
Pour luy, f oy que doy mon baptesme,
Nonobstant qu'a tous je le crye,
II ne fauldra pas a son esme.
Au Psaultier prens, quand suis a mesme,
Qui n'est de beuf ne cordoen,
Le verset escript le septiesme
Du psaulme de Deus laudem.
VII
Je prie au benoist Filz de Dieu,
Qu'a tous mes besoings je reclame,
Que ma bonne priere ayt lieu
Vers luy, de qui tiens corps et ame,
Qui m'a preserve de maint blasme
Et franchy de vile puissance.
Loue soit-il, et Nostre-Dame,
Et Loys, le bon roy de France!
The Great Testament
prayed it would be in Picard fashion. If
Thibault wants to know what that fashion
is let him go to Douai or Lille.
VI
When he is going to pray for Thibault,
he will begin his prayer with the seventh
verse of the Psalm beginning Deus Laudem.
Which verse is thus conceived: "Que les
jours de sa vie soient reduits au plus
petit nombre, et que son eveche passe a un
autre."
VII
He implores God's blessed Son to listen
to his prayer, and gives praise to our Lady
and King Louis of France.
Le Grand Testament
VIII
Auquel doint Dieu Mieur de Jacob,
De Salomon Fhonneur et gloire:
Quand de prouesse, il en a trop,
De force aussi, par m'ame! voire.
En ce monde-cy transitoire,
Tant qu'il a de long et de le,
Afin que de luy soit memoire,
Vive autant que Mathusale!
IX
Et douze beaulx enf ans, tous masles,
Voire de son cher sang royal,
Aussi preux que fut le grant Charles,
Conceuz en ventre imperial,
Bons comme fut sainct Martial:
Ainsi en preigne au bon Dauphin.
Je ne luy souhaicte autre mal,
Et puis paradis a la fin.
Pource que foible je me sens,
Trop plus de biens que de sante,
Tant que je suis en mon plain sens,
Si peu que Dieu m'en a preste,
The Great Testament
VIII
Praying God to endow Louis with the
happiness of Jacob and the glory of Solo-
mon, and to give his memory as long a life
as Methuselah's.
IX
May he have twelve fair sons, brave as
Charles the Great and good as saint
Martial. He wishes equal luck to the good
Dauphin (Joachim of France, son of
Charlotte de Savoie). The poor Dauphin
got little from Villon's good wishes : he died
at about eleven years of age!
Our poet, feeling himself very weak,
and more impoverished in purse even than
L,e Grand Testament
Car d'autre ne Fay emprunte,
J'ay ce Testament tres-estable
Faict, de darraine voulente,
Seul pour tout et irrevocable.
XI
Escript Fay, Fan soixante et ung,
Que le bon Roy me delivra
De la dure prison de Mehun,
Et que vie me recouvra:
Dont suis, tant que mon cueur vivra,
Tenu vers luy me humilier,
Ce que feray jusqu'il mourra:
Bienfaict ne se doit oublier.
Icy commence Villon a entrer en matiere pleine
d'erudition et de bon sgavoir.
XII
Or est vray qu'apres plainctz et pleurs
Et angoisseux gemissemens,
Apres tristesses et douleurs,
Labeurs et grief z cheminemens,
Trouve mes lubres sentemens,
Esguisez comme une pelote,
Mouvoir plus que tous les Commens
D'Averroys sur Aristote.
The Great Testament
in body, uses the clear sense that remains to
him for the purpose of writing this Testa-
ment (ires estable and irrevocable).
XI
Written in the year 1461. The same in
which the good king set him free from Thi-
bault's prison at Meung, an act for which
he will always serve the king until he dies.
Good deeds should always be remembered.
Here begins Villon to enter upon matter full of
erudition and good knowledge.
XII
Tears and complaints, sadness and suffer-
ing, have taught him wisdom, and taught
him more than all the commentaries of
Averroes can teach one of Aristotle.
Averroes was an Arab doctor, whose com-
mentary on Aristotle Villon mocks at.
( 117 )
Le Grand Testament
XIII
Combien qu'au plus fort de mes maulx,
En cheminant sans croix ne pile,
Dieu, qui les Pellerins d'Esmaus
Conforta, ce dit FEvangile,
Me monstra une belle ville
Et pourveut du don d'esperance :
Combien que le pecheur soit vile,
Riens ne hayt que perseverance.
XIV
Je suis pecheur, je le s£ay bien:
Pourtant Dieu ne veult pas ma mort,
Mais convertisse et vive en bien,
Mieulx tout autre que peche mord.
Combien qu'en peche soye mort,
Dieu voult, et sa misericorde,
Se conscience me remord,
Par sa grace, pardon m'accorde.
xv
Et, comme le noble Romant
De la Rose dit et conf esse
En son premier commencement,
Qu'on doit jeune cueur en jeunesse,
The Great Testament
XIII
For to Villon, wandering in the wilder-
ness, God gave comfort and a resting-place.
For God does not hate a man for being
vile; God only hates a man for being
stubborn.
XIV
He is a sinner. He knows that well; but
he knows that God does not wait his death,
but his repentance.
xv
And, as the noble Romance of the Rose
says in its first part, "much may be for-
given to youth." Yet, those wicked ones
Le Grand Testament
Quant on le voit meur en vieillesse,
Excuser, helas! il dit voir.
Ceulx done qui me font telle oppresse
En meurete me vouldroient veoir.
XVI
Se, pour ma mort, le bien publique
D'aucune chose vaulsist mieulx,
A mourir comme ung homme inique
Je me jugeasse, ainsi m'aid' Dieux!
Grief ne faiz a jeune ne vieulx,
Soye sur pied ou soye en biere:
Les montz ne bougent de leurs lieux,
Pour ung povre, n'avant, n'arriere.
XVII
Au temps que Alexandre regna,
Ung horns, nomme Diomedes
Devant luy on luy amena,
Engrillonne poulces et detz,
Comme ung larron; car il fut des
Escumeux que voyons courir,
Et fut mys devant le cades,
Pour estre juge a mourir.
( 120 )
The Great Testament
who oppressed him would have killed him
in his youth (before age had redeemed his
soul by sense).
XVI
Villon would have killed himself if, by
doing so, he could have bettered things
for others; but he cannot see that his
life does others any harm. The hills will
not be stirred by the death of one poor
wretch.
XVII
In the time of Alexander a pirate called
Diomedes was brought before the emperor
in chains to receive his punishment.
( 121 )
Le Grand Testament
XVIII
L'empereur si Farraisonna:
"Pourquoy es-tu larron de mer?"
L'autre responce luy donna:
"Pourquoy larron me faiz nommer?'
Pource qu'on me voit escumer
Dedans une petite fuste?
Se comme toy me peiisse armer,
Comme toy empereur je fusse.
XIX
"Mais que veux-tu de ma fortune,
Centre qui ne pays bonnement,
Qui si f aulsement m'infortune,
Que c'est grant esbahissement.
Saches que veritablement
Souvent en bien grant povrete
(Ce mot dit-on communement)
Ne gist pas grande loyaulte."
xx
Quand Fempereur cut remire
De Diomedes tout le diet:
"Ta fortune je mueray
De mauvaise en bonne"! luy dit.
( 122 )
The Great Testament
XVIII
The emperor asked him, "Why are you
a pirate?" The other replied, "Why do
you call me a pirate? If I could change
my poor vessel for your throne, I would be
an emperor, like you.
XIX
"Fate alone makes me what I am. For-
give me, for poverty make man do un-
righteous things."
Whereat the emperor unto Diomedes
said, "I will turn your bad luck into good."
This he did, with the result that Diomedes
( 123 )
Le Grand Testament
Si fist-il. One puis ne mesdit
A personne, mais fut vray homme.
Valere pour vray le bandit,
Qui fut nomine le Grant a Romme.
XXI
Se Dieu m'eust donne rencontrer
Ung autre piteux Alexandra,
Qui m'eust f aict en bon heur entrer,
Et lors qui m'eust veu condescendre
A mal, estre ars et mys en cendre
Juge me fusse de ma voix.
Necessite f aict gens mesprendre,
Et f aim saillir les loups des boys
XXII
Je plains le temps de ma jeunesse,
Ouquel j'ay plus qu'autre galle,
Jusque a Fentree de vieillesse,
Qui son partement m'a cele:
II ne s'en est a pied alle,
N'a cheval, helas! Comment done?
Soudainement s'en est voile,
Et ne m'a laisse quelque don.
( 124 )
The Great Testament
led ever after a good life. Which story is
to be found in Valerius, who in Rome was
called "The Great."
XXI
If God had given Villon a compassion-
ate Alexander, Villon admits that death by
burning would have been his fitting portion
had he gone back to evil courses. But neces-
sity makes men vicious; and drives them
forth to rapine, as hunger drives wolves
from the wood.
XXII
He mourns over his lost youth, which fled ;
away suddenly from him, and never will re-
turn again.
( 125 )
Le Grand Testament
XXIII
Alle s'en est, et je demeure,
Povre de sens et de S9avoir,
Triste, f ailly, plus noir que meure,
Qui n'ay cens, rente, ne avoir:
Des miens le moindre, je dy voir,
De me desadvouer s'avance,
Oubliant naturel devoir,
Par f aulte d'ung peu de chevance.
XXIV
Si ne crains avoir despendu,
Par friander et par leschier:
Par trop aymer n'ay riens vendu,
Que nuls me peussent reprouchier,
Au moins qui leur couste trop cher.
Je le dys, et ne croy mesdire.
De ce je me puis revencher:
Qui n'a meffait ne le doit dire.
xxv
II est bien vray que j'ay ayme
Et aymeroye voulentiers:
Mais triste cueur, ventre affame
Qui n'est rassasie au tiers,
( 126 )
The Great Testament
XXIII
It is gone, and he remains, poor and
broken, without coin or land, and deserted
by those who were once his relations.
XXIV
And, after all, what has he done? He
has never been a glutton or bad liver, or
done harm in love. If any one says so he
lies, and will some day repent of his lie.
No — the man who has done no wrong should
not confess.
XXV
It is true he has loved, and would do so
again; but he has always been too hungry
( 127 )
L,e Grand Testament
Me oste des amoureux sentiers.
Au fort, quelqu'un s'en recompense,
Qui est remply sur les chantiers,
Car la danse vient de la panse.
XXVI
Ho Dieu! se j'eusse estudie,
Au temps de ma jeunesse folle,
Et a bonnes meurs dedie,
J'eusse maison et couche molle!
Mais quoy? je fuyoye 1'Escolle,
Comme f aict le mauvays enfant. . .
En escrivant ceste parolle,
A peu que le cueur ne me fend.
XXVII
Le diet du Saige trop le f eis
Favorable, bien n'en puys mais,
Qui dit: "Es joys-toy, mon filz,
A ton adolescence, mais
Ailleurs sers bien d'ung autre mets,
Car jeunesse et adolescence
(C'est son parler, ne moins ne mais)
Ne sont qu'abus et ignorance."
( 128 )
Great Testament
and sad to have the full joy of love. Love
and a full belly only agree.
XXVI
If he had only studied and worked hard
in his youth he would not now be cold in
his age. But what did he do? He escaped
from school, like the bad child he was, and
writing this fact down gives him great bit-
terness of heart.
XXVII
He has learned the lesson of the sage:
"Rejoice in your youth, my son; but con-
sider thy ways, for youth holds error and
ignorance."
( 129 )
Le Grand Testament
XXVIII
Mes jours s'en sont allez errant,
Comme, dit Job, d'une touaille
Sont les filetz, quant tisserant
Tient en son poing ardente paille:
Lors, s'il y a nul bout saille,
Soudainement il le ravit.
Si ne crains plus que rien m'assaille,
Car a la mort tout s'assouvit.
XXIX
Ou sont les gratieux gallans
Que je suyvoye au tempts jadis,
Si bien chantans, si bien parlans,
Si plaisans en faictz et en dictz!
Les aucuns sont mortz et roydiz;
Rien n'est-il plus d'eulx maintenant.
Repos ilz ayent en paradis,
Et Dieu saulve le remenant!
XXX
Et les aucuns sont devenuz,
Dieu mercy ! grans seigneurs et maistres ;
Les autres mendient tous nudz,
Et pain ne voyent qu'aux fenestres;
( 130 )
The Great Testament
XXVIII
His days have been like those tags of
the cloth of which Job speaks, and to which
the weaver lays a torch so as to burn them
off. No matter. Death will free him
at last.
XXIX
Where are the gallants with whom he
consorted of old, so fine in song and speech,
so pleasant in acts and words? Some are
dead, they rest in Paradise — and may God
have the remainder in His keeping.
XXX
Some — "Dieu mercy !" — have become
great lords and masters. Some beg naked,
and never see bread, unless in the windows
of the bakers' shops. Others are in the
( 131 )
Le Grand Testament
Les autres sont entrez en cloistres
De Celestins et de Chartreux,
Bottez, housez, comm' pescheurs d'oystres
Voila l'estat divers d'entre eulx.
XXXI
Aux grans maistres Dieu doint bien f aire,
Vivans en paix et en requoy:
En eulx il n'y a que refaire:
Si s'en fait bon taire tout quoy.
Mais aux povres qui n'ont de quoy,
Comme moy, Dieu doint patience:
Aux autres ne fault qui ne quoy.
Car assez ont pain et pitance.
XXXII
Bons vins ont, souvent embrochez,
Saulces, brouetz et gros poissons,
Tartes, flans, ceufz fritz et pochez,
Et perdus, en toutes fa^ons.
Pas ne ressemblent les masons.
Que servir fault a si grant peine:
Hz ne veulent nulz eschan9ons,
Car de verser chascun se peine.
( 132 )
The Great Testament
cloisters of the Celestines and the Char-
treux, well booted and hosed (as oyster-
catchers). Behold the difference between
all these!
XXXI
God does well by great nobles. But to
the poor — like Villon — may he give pa-
tience! They need it more than the others
who have plenty.
XXXII
More than they who drink good wine,
and have sauces and fat fish, tarts, roast
meat, and eggs, fried, poached, and perdus.
(The receipt for ceufg perdus is found in
an old receipt-book of the fifteenth century
which bears the name of Taillevent, Maitre-
queux du Roi.) People like these need
no butler. They pour out their own
drink.
( 133 )
Le Grand Testament
XXXIII
En cest incident me suis mys,
Qui de rien ne sert a mon f aict.
Je ne suis juge, ne commis,
Pour punir, n'absouldre meffaict:
De tous suis le plus imparfaict.
Loue soit le doulx Jesus-Christ!
Que par moy luy soit satisfaict!
Ce que j'ay escript est escript.
xxxiv
Laissons le monstier ou il est:
Parlons de chose plus plaisante.
Ceste matiere a tous ne plaist:
Ennuyeuse est et desplaisante.
Povrete, chagrine et dolente,
Tous jours despiteuse et rebelle,
Dit quelque parolle cuysante:
S'elle n'ose, si la pense-elle.
XXXV
Povre je suis, des ma jeunesse,
De povre et de petite extrace.
Mon pere n'euct oncq grant richesse,
Ne son ayeul, nomme Erace.
( 134 )
The Great Testament
XXXIII
But this is all by the way. He is not a
judge, commissioned to punish or absolve.
He is the most imperfect of all. Let
praise be given to Christ, and may all their
needs through Him be satisfied. What he
has written he has written.
XXXIV
Let us turn to more pleasant subjects.
Poverty is always saying bad things — or
thinking them.
XXXV
He was poor from his very youth, of
small and poor extraction. His father
had nothing, nor his ancestor Erace (saint
Hierax, who was martyred with saint
( 135 )
Le Grand Testament
Povrete tous nous suyt et trace.
Sur les tumbeaulx de nos ancestres,
Les ames desquelz Dieu embrasse,
On n'y voyt couronnes ne sceptres.
xxxvi
En povrete me guermentant,
Souventesfoys me dit le cueur:
"Homme, ne te doulouse tant
Et ne demaine tel douleur,
Se tu n'as tant qu'eust Jacques Cueur.
Mieulx vault vivre, soubz gros bureaux,
Povre, qu'avoir este seigneur
Et pourrir soubz riches tumbeaux"!
XXXVII
Qu'avoir este seigneur! . . . Que dys?
Seigneur! Helas! ne Fest-il mais!
Selon les Davidiques dictz,
Son lieu ne congnoistra jamais.
Quant du surplus, je m'en desmetz,
II n'appartient a moy, pecheur:
Aux theologiens le remetz,
Car c'est office de prescheur.
( 136 )
The Great Testament
Justin?) Poverty has always followed
them, and on the tombs of his ancestors —
whom God rest — there are no crowns and
sceptres.
xxxvi
Yet when he complains of poverty his
heart often has said to him, "If you are
not as rich as Jacques Cueur" (the riches
of Jacques Coeur, ar gentler to Charles VII,
were proverbial) , "remember, it is better to
be alive and poor than a dead lord rotting
in a tomb."
VII
A lord! He is no longer a lord once
dead. As the psalms of David say, "His
place knows him no more." As for the rest
that belongs to the theologians.
( 137 )
L,e Grand Testament
XXXVIII
Si ne suis, bien le considere,
Filz d'ange, portant dyademe
D'estoille ne d'autre sydere.
Mon pere est mort, Dieu en ayt Fame!
Quant est du corps, il gyst soubz lame.
J'entends que ma mere mourra,
Et le s£ait bien, la povre femme!
Et le filz pas ne demourra.
xxxix
Je congnoys que, povres et riches,
Sages et folz, prebstres et laiz,
Nobles, vilains, larges et chiches,
Petits et grans, et beaulx et laidz.
Dames a rebrassez colletz,
De quelconque condicion,
Portant attours et bourreletz,
Mort saisit, sans exception.
XL
Et meure Paris ou Helaine!
Quiconques meurt, meurt a douleur.
Celluy qui perd vent et alaine,
Son fiel se creve sur son cueur,
( 138 )
The Great Testament
XXXVIII
He admits he is not the son of an angel!
His father is dead — God rest his soul! — his
body is buried. He knows that his
mother soon must die, and, after her, her
son.
xxxix
He knows that rich and poor, wise men
and fools, clergy and laymen, nobles and
villeins, small and great, and beautiful and
ugly, all must go. Death seizes them with-
out exception.
XL
And be it Helen or Paris dying, whoever
dies, he dies in pain (see Swinburne's trans-
lation). His gall bursts upon his heart;
( 139 )
Le Grand Testament
Puis sue, Dieu s£ait quelle sueur!
Et n'est qui de ses maulx Tallege:
Car enf ans n'a, f rere ne soenr,
Qui voulsist lors estre son pleige.
XII
La mort le faict fremir, pallir,
Le nez courber, les veines tendre,
Le col enfler, la chair mollir,
Joinctes et nerf s croistre et estrendre.
Corps feminin, qui tant est tendre,
Poly, souef, si precieulx,
Te faudra-il ces maulx attendre?
Ouy, ou tout vif aller es cieulx.
XLII
Puisque papes, roys, fils de roys,
Et conceuz en ventres de roynes,
Sont enseveliz, mortz et froidz,
En aultres mains passent leurs regnes,
( 140 )
The Great Testament
then God only knows how he sweats, and
none may pay the penalty for him or take
his place.
XLI
Death makes him shiver and pale,
sharpens his nose, twists his veins — even the
bodies of women, so tender and precious,
must bear these pangs or else go straight
alive to heaven.
Here follow the three great ballades on the muta-
bility of things, "The Ballade Des Dames du Temps
Jadis/' and the "Ballades of the Seigneurs du Temps
Jadis." See pp. 20, 25.
XLII
Since all these — popes, kings, sons of
kings, are dead, shall he not die? Yes, if
God wills; he has no fear of honest death.
Le Grand Testament
Moy, pauvre mercerot de Rennes,
Mourray-je pas? Ouy, se Dieu plaist;
Mais que j'aye faict mes estrennes,
Honneste morte ne me desplaist.
XLIII
Ce monde n'est perpetuel,
Quoy que pense riche pillart.
Tous sommes soubz mortel coutel.
Ce conseil prend povre viellart,
Lequel d'estre plaisant raillart
Eut le bruyt, lorsque jeune estoit,
Qu'on tiendroit a fol et paillart
Se maintenant s'entremettoit.
XLIV
Or luy convient-il mendier,
Car a ce force le contraint.
Regrette buy sa mort, et bier,
Tristesse son cueur si estrainct:
Souvent, se n'estoit Dieu qu'il crainct,
II feroit un horrible faict.
Et advient qu'en ce Dieu enfrainct,
Et que luy-mesmes se deff aict.
( 142 )
The Great Testament
XLIII
The world does not last for ever. Let
the rich robber think what he likes. Old
men, who have had their day, take this to
heart; men who in their day have been gal-
lants and men of pleasure, but who must
drop all that in age, or be ridiculed.
XLIV
Though perhaps they have to beg their
bread, wishing each day was their last.
Truly sorrow so works on their hearts that,
but for God's intervention, they might
commit some horrid crime. Sometimes,
forgetting God, they kill themselves.
Le Grand Testament
XLV
Car, s'en jeunesse il fut plaisant,
Ores plus rien ne dit qui plaise.
Tous jours viel synge est desplaisant.
Moue ne f aict qui ne desplaise
S'il se faist, affin qu'il complaise
II est tenu pour fol recreu;
S'il parle, on luy dit qu'il se taise,
Et qu'en son prunier n'a pas creu.
XLVI
Aussi, ces povres femmelettes,
Qui vielles sont et n'ont de quoy,
Quand voyent jeunes pucellettes
Estre en aise et en requoy,
Lors demandent a Dieu pourquoy
Si tost nasquirent, n'a quel droit.
Nostre Seigneur s'en taist tout coy,
Car, au tancer, il le perdroit.
The Great Testament
XLV
The gay young man is no use when old.
An old ape always displeases. Rabelais
uses the expression (Pantagruel> book iii.) :
"Oncques vieil singe ne fist belle moue."
They cannot make a grimace without dis-
pleasing. If they are silent they are reck-
oned fools, if they speak they are told to
shut up.
XLVI
It is just the same with poor women
grown old, who see young girls carrying
the day.
Here follows the "Regrets of La Belle Heaul-
miere" and the ballade.
( 145 )
Le Grand Testament
XLVII
Ceste lecon icy leur bailie
La belle et bonne de jadis.
Bien dit ou mal, vaille que vaille,
Enregistrer j'ay faict ces ditz
Par mon clerc Fremin 1'estourdys,
Aussi rassis que je puys estre. . .
S'ils me desment, je le mauldys:
Selon le clerc est deu le maistre.
XLVIII
Si aperc^oy le grand dangier
Ouquel I'homme amoureux se boute. .
He! qui me vouldroit laidangier
De ce mot, en disant: "Escoute!
Se d'aymer t'estrange et deboute
Le barat d'icelles nominees,
Tu f eras une folle doubte,
Car ce sont femmes diff amees.
XLIX
"Si n'ayment, fors que pour Tar gent
On ne les ayme que pour 1'heure.
Rondement ayment toute gent,
Et rient lorsque bourse pleure.
( 146 )
The Great Testament
XLVII
This lesson (of the preceding ballade)
she gives to the beautiful of other days.
Good or ill, I have had it written down by
my clerk, Fremin. If he has made me
lie I curse him, for people will accuse me
of his faults ("Selon le clerc est deu le
maistre").
XLVIII
He fears to be misinterpreted. Some
people may blame him, and say he has been
speaking of women of pleasure, not honest
women.
XLIX
And also say that honest men only have
dealings with women of honour.
Le Grand Testament
De celles-ci n'est qui ne queure.
Mais en femmes d'honneur et nom,
Franc homme, se Dieu me sequeure,
Se doit employer; ailleurs, non."
Je prens qu'aucun dye cecy,
Si ne me conteste-il en rien.
En effect, je concludz ainsy,
Et je le cuyde entendre bien:
Qu'on doit aymer en lieu de bien.
As9avoir-mon se ces fillettes,
Qu'en parolles longuement tien,
furent pas femmes honnestes?
LI
Honnestes, si furent vrayement,
Sans avoir reproches ne blasmes.
S'il est vray qu'au commencement
Uhe chascune de ces femmes
Lors prindrent, ains qu'eussent diff ames,
Une ung lay, ung clerc,Fautre ung moine,
Pour estaindre d'amours les flammes,
Plus chauldes que feu Sainct Antoine.
( 148 )
The Great Testament
He agrees with this. He agrees that one
should love good women; but, he wants to
ask, were not those whom the world decries
once good women?
LI
Certainly, till each of them took some
man (lay or cleric) to assuage the flame of
desire, more burning than the fire of St.
Anthony (erysipelas).
( 149 )
Le Grand Testament
LII
Or feirent, selon ce decret,
Leurs amys, et bien y appart:
Elles aymoient en lieu secret,
Ne nul autre n'y avoit part.
Nonobstant, ceste amour s'espart:
Car celle qui n'en avoit qu'un
D'icelluy s'estrange et despart,
Et ayme mieulx aymer chascun.
LIII
Qui les meut a ce? J 'imagine,
Sans Thonneur des dames blasmer,
Que c'est nature feminine,
Qui tout homme vouldroit aymer.
Autre chose n'y s^ay rymer,
Fors qu'on dit, a Reims et a Troys,
Voire a 1'Isle et a Sainct-Omer,
Que six ouvriers font plus que troys.
LIV
Or ont les f olz amans le bond,
Et les dames prins la vollee.
C'est le droit loyer qu'amours ont:
Toute foy y est violee.
( 150 )
The Great Testament
LII
And each one clung to her first love till
she was attracted by some other man.
LHI
Why are women made like this? Just
because they are made like women, and
women are made to love all men. Besides,
six workmen do more work than three.
LIV
Every one complains that love takes
little heed of fidelity. It is just the same
Le Grand Testament
Quelque doulx baiser n'a collee
De chiens, d'oyseaulx, d'armes, d'amours.
Chascun le dit a la vollee:
"Pour une joie cent doulours."
LV
Se celle que jadis servoye
De si bon cueur et loyaument.
Dont tant de maulx et grief z j'avoye
Et souffroye tant de torment,
Se dit m'eust, au commencement,
Sa voulente (mais nenny, las!),
J'eusse mys peine aucunement
De moy retraire de ses laz.
LVI
Quoy que je luy voulsisse dire,
Elle estoit preste d'escouter,
Sans m'accorder ne contredire:
Qui plus me souff roit acouter,
Joignant des pies m'arieter,
Et ainsi m'alloit amusant,
Et me souiFroit tout racompter,
Mais si n'estoit qu'en m'abusant.
( 152 )
The Great Testament
with hunting, love, and war. For one
pleasure a hundred pains.
Here follows the ballade on this subject. See p. 32.
LV
If she whom he served of old time
(Katherine de Vaucelles) and for whom
he suffered so much, had only shown her
hand, he might have escaped from her.
LVI
But what did she do? She listened
whilst he told her of his love, she kept him
at her feet, she amused herself with him,
thus leading him on to his destruction.
( 153 )
Le Grand Testament
LVII
Abuser se f aict a entendre
Tous jours (Tung que ce fust ung aultre:
De farine, que ce fust cendre;
D'ung mortier, ung chapeau de feautre;
De viel machefer, que fust peaultre;
D'ambesas, que ce fussent ternes. . .
Tous jours trompeur aultruy engaultre
Et rend vessies pour lanternes.
LVIII
Du ciel, une poisle d'arain;
Des nues, une peau de veau;
Du matin, que c'estoit serain;
D'un trongnon de chou, ung naveau;
D'orde cervoise, vin nouveau;
D'une truie, ung molin a vent;
Et d'une hart, ung escheveau;
D'un gras abbe ung poursuyvant.
LIX
Ainsi m'ont amours abuse,
Et pourmene de 1'huys au pesle.
Je croy qu'homme n'est si ruse,
Fust fin comme argent de coupelle,
( 154 )
The Great Testament
LVII
She blinded him so completely that he
believed flour to be cinder and a felt hat
a mortar; slag, corn; and the double ace,
the trey.
LVIII
Yes, she fooled him till the sky seemed
made of brass and the clouds a calf -skin;
morning, evening; a cabbage, a turnip;
cervoise (a sort of beer), new wine; a sow,
a windmill; a rope of osier, a bridle; and a
fat abbe, a poursuivant.
ux
Love did this; yet where is the man not
willing to be deceived by love, as he has
( 155 )
Le Grand Testament
Qui n'y laissast linge et drapelle,
Mais qu'il fust ainsi manye
Comme moy, qui partout m'appelle
L'Amant remys et renye.
LX
Je renye amours et despite,
Et deffie a feu et a sang.
Mort par elles me precipite,
Et ne leur en chault pas d'ung blanc.
Ma vielle ay mys soubz le bane.
Si amans ne suyvray jamais:
Se jadis je fuz de leur ranc.
Je declaire que n'en suis mais.
LXI
Car j'ay mys le plumail au vent:
Or le suyve qui a attente.
De ce me tays dorenavant.
Poursuyvre je vueil mon entente,
Et, s'aucun m'interroge ou tente
Comment d'amours j'ose mesdire,
Ceste parolle les contente:
"Qui meurt a ses hoirs doit tout dire.:
( 156 )
The Great Testament
been — he who is called "L'Amant remys
et renye"?
LX
But he has done with love now. He
scorns it: "Ma vielle ay mys soubz le bane."
If of old time he belonged to the army of
lovers he belongs to it now not at all.
LXI
He has entered into the lists against love,
and, if any one takes him to task for speak-
ing like this, remember that a dying man has
right to free speech.
( 157 y
Le Grand Testament
LXII
Je congnoys approcher ma soef :
Je crache blanc comme cotton,
Jacobins gros comme ung esteuf .
Qu'est-ce a dire? Que Jehanneton
Plus ne me tient pour valeton,
Mais pour ung viel use regnart. . .
De viel porte voix et le ton,
Et ne suis qu'ung jeune coquart.
LXIII
Dieu mercy et Jaques Thibault,
Qui tant d'eau froide m'a faict boyre,
En ung bas lieu, non pas en hault;
Manger d'angoisse mainte poire,
Enferre. . . . Quand j'en ay memoire,
Je pry pour luy, et reliqua,
Que Dieu luy doint. . . et voire, voire,
Ce que je pense. . . et cetera.
LXIV
Toutesfoys, je n'y pense mal,
Pour luy et pour son lieutenant;
Aussy pour son official,
Qui est plaisant et advenant,
( 158 )
The Great Testament
LXII
He feels the thirst of death already. He
spits white, he is no use to Jehanneton, he
is old, worn-out and useless, yet is he — or
ought to be — a young cock.
LXIII
He is like this thanks to God and Jacques
Thibault (the double-damned Thibault
d'Aussigny), who made him drink cold
water (put him to the question), and eat
pears of anguish (gags). When he thinks
of this he prays God to give Thibault — his
due.
LXIY
Yet, after all, he wishes no harm to
Thibault nor to his lieutenant. He loves
( 159 )
Le Grand Testament
Que faire n'ay du remenant,
Mais du petit maistre Robart? . .
Je les ayme, tout d'ung tenant,
Ainsi que f aict Dieu le Lombart.
LXV
II me souvient bien, Dieu mercis!
Que je feis, a mon partement,
Certains Lays, Tan cinquant six,
Qu'aucuns, sans mon consentement,
Voulurent nommer Testament.
Leur vouloir fut, mais non le mien.
Mais quoy! on dit communement
Qu'ung chascun n'est maistre du sien,
LXVI .
Et s'ainsi est qu'aucun n'eust pas
Receu les lays que le luy mande,
JPordonne que apres mon trespas
A mes hoirs en face demande:
Qui sont-ilz? Si on le demande:
Moreau, Provins, Robin Turgis;
De moy, par dictez que leur mande,
Ont eu jusqu'au lict ou je gys.
( 160 )
The Great Testament
the whole lot as God loves Lombards
(bankers and Jews of a certain class went
under this name).
LXV
He remembers well — "Dieu Mercis!" —
that before he went off in the year 1456 he
left certain "Lays," which some people,
without his consent, called his Testament.
It was their will not his. But what will you
have ! Is it not commonly said that no one
is master of his own?
LXVI
If by chance any of the people men-
tioned in The Little Testament have not
been paid he orders that, after his death, de-
mand be made of his heirs. Who are they?
Moreau, Provins, Robin Turgis. He has
willed them his goods, even to the bed on
which he lies.
Le Grand Testament
LXVII
Pour le revoquer ne le dy,
Et y courust toute ma terre.
De pitie je suys refroidy
Envers le bastard de la Barre.
Parmy ses trois gluyons de foerre.
Je luy donne mes vieilles nattes;
Bonnes seront pour tenir serre
Et soy soustenir sur ses pattes.
LXVIII
Somme, plus ne diray qu'ung mot,
Car commencer vueil a tester:
Devant mon clerc Fremin, qui m'ot
(S'il ne dort), je vueil protester
Que n'entends homme detester,
En ceste presente ordonnance,
Et ne le vueil manifester,
Sinon au royaulme de France.
LXIX
Je sens mon cueur qui s'affoiblist,
Et plus je ne puys papier.
Fremin, siez-toy pres de mon lict,
Que Ton ne me viengne espier!
( 162 )
The Great Testament
LXVII
He leaves to the Bastard de la Barre, be-
side the straw devised to him in The Petit
Testament, his old mats to sustain him on
his feet.
LXVIII
Before beginning to test he wishes to say,
before his clerk Fremin (if the latter be not
asleep), that he (Villon) has never wronged
any man in this present ordinance — nor will
he make it manifest unless unto the realm of
France.
LXIX
He feels his hqart growing weak, and
orders Fremin, his clerk, to sit close to his
( 163 )
Le Grand Testament
Prens tost encre, plume et papier.
Ce que nomme escryz vistement;
Puis fais-le partout copier,
Et vecy le commencement.
Icy commence Villon a tester
LXX
Au nom de Dieu, Pere eternel,
Et du Filz que Vierge parit,
Dieu au Pere coeternel,
Ensemble et le Sainct Esperit,
Qui saulva ce qu'Adam perit,
Et du pery pare les cieulx. . .
Qui bien ce croyt, peu ne merit
Gens mortz estre faictz petiz Dieux.
LXXV
Premier, je donne ma povre ame
A la benoiste Trinite,
Et la commande a Nostre Dame,
Chambre de la divinite:
Priant toute la charite
Des dignes neuf Ordres des cieulx
Que par eulx soit ce don porte
Devant le trosne precieulx.
( 164 )
The Great Testament
bed, take paper, pen, and ink, and write
what he says, and then have it copied.
Here begins Dillon to make his Will.
LXX
In the name of God the Father, God the
Son, and God the Holy Ghost, etc.
Here folio weth four wordy verses (see
Appendix) ending with the line "Je me
tays et ainsi commence" (I will cut cack-
ling and come to the subject) .
Here follow verses Ixxi to Ixx'vo. See Appendix.
LXXV
First, he commends his poor soul to the
Trinity and our Lady, praying all the
charity of the nine Orders of the sky that
his soul may be carried by them to the
precious throne.
( 165 )
Le Grand Testament
LXXVI
Item, mon corps j'ordonne et laisse
A nostre grand mere la terre.
Les vers n'y trouveront grant gresse:
Trop luy a f aict f aim dure guerre.
Or luy soit delivre grant erre:
De terre vint, en terre tourne.
Toute chose, se par trop n'erre,
Voulentiers en son lieu retourne.
LXXVII
Item, et a mon plus que pere
Maistre Guillaume de Villon,
Qui m'a este plus doulx que mere,
A enfant leve de maillon,
Dejette hors de maint boillon
(Et de cestuy pas ne s'esjoye,
Si luy requiers, a genoillon,
Qu'il m'en laisse toute la joye),
LXXVIII
Je luy laisse ma librairie,
Et le Rommant du Pet au Triable,
Lequel maistre Guy Tabarie
Grossoya, qu'est horn veritable.
( 166 )
The Great Testament
LXXVI
Item. He leaves his body, worn by
hunger, to grandmother Earth. It is so
thin that the worms won't get much good
from it. It came from earth, let it return
to earth. All things, unless he errs, are glad
to return from where they came.
LXXVII
Item. To Master Guillaume Villon, his
more than father, who has saved him from
many a danger and whom he now implores
not to search for him,
LXXVIII
He leaves his library, and the Rommant
du Pet au Diable, written out by that
( 167 )
Le Grand Testament
Par cayers est soubz une table.
Combien qu'il soit rudement f aict,
La matiere est si tres-notable
Qu'elle amende tout le meffaict.
LXXIX
Item, donne a ma bonne mere,
Pour saluer nostre Maistresse,
Qui pour moy eut douleur amere,
Dieu le scait, et mainte tristesse. . .
( Autre chastel ou forteresse
N'ay ou retraire corps et ame,
Quand sur moy court male destresse,
Ne ma mere, la povre femme) !
LXXX
Item, m'amour, ma chere Rose:
Ne luy laisse ne cueur ne foye.
Elle aymeroit mieulx autre chose,
Combien qu'elle ait assez mannoye.
Quoy? Une grant bourse de soye,
Pleine d'escuz, profonde et large.
Mais pendu soit-il, qui ce soye,
Qui luy lairra escu ne targe.
( 168 )
The Great Testament
worthy man Guy Tabarie. It lies some-
where in loose sheets under some table.
Though rudely written, the matter is good.
LXXIX
Item. To his mother, who has suffered
much through him, he gives the following
ballade to help her in the worship of our
Lady, than whom neither he nor his mother
can see any other refuge in affliction.
Here follows the Ballade to his Mother. See p. 35.
LXXX
Item. To his dear Rose he leaves neither
his heart nor his liver. "Elle aymeroit
mieulx autre chose"; she has enough money
already — a great purse stuffed with ecus.
May he be hanged who leaves her anything
in the shape of money, ecu or targe (half an
ecu).
( 169 )
Le Grand Testament
LXXXI
Car elle en a, sans moy, assez,
Mais de cela il ne m'en chault:
Mes grans deduictz en sont passez,
Plus n'en ay le cropion chauld.
Si m'en desmetz auy hoirs Michault,
Qui f ut nomine le bon f outerre.
Priez pour luy, f aides ung sault:
A Saint-Satur gist, soubz Sancerre.
LXXXII
Ce non obstant, pour m'acquitter
Envers amours, plus qu'envers elle,
Car oncques n'y peuz acquester
D'espoir une seule estincelle:
Je ne S9ay s'a tous si rebelle
A este: ce n'est grant esmoy,
Mais, par saincte Marie la belle 1
Je n'y voy que rire pour moy.
LXXXIII
Ceste Ballade luy envoye,
Qui se termine toute en R.
Qui la portera? Que j'y voye:
Sera Perinet de la Barre,
( 170 )
The Great Testament
LXXXI
She has quite enough money as it is.
As for him, he doesn't care a button; his
desire is cold, and he leaves it to the heirs
of Michault, the good lecher who is buried
at Saint-Satur beneath Sancerre (on the
right bank of the Loire in the department
of Cher), that they may pray for him.
LXXXII
He never had any hope from her (Rose) ,
nor does he care if she turns from others
as she turned from him. It would amuse
him; that he swears by Saint Marie la belle
(Mary Magdalene, the patron saint of
courtesans).
LXXXIII
But here's a ballade for her with all
the rhymes ending in R. Who shall bear it
to her? Why, who but Perinet, the Bastard
de la Barre, so long as if, when he comes
( 171 )
Le Grand Testament
Pourveu, s'il rencontre en son erre
Ma damoyselle au nez tortu,
II luy dira, sans plus enqueue:
"Orde paillarde, d'ou viens-tu?"
LXXXIV
Item, a maistre Ythier, marchant,
Auquel mon branc laissy jadis,
Donne (mais qu'il le mette en chant),
Ce Lay, contenant des vers dix,
Et aussi ung De Profundis
Pour ses anciennes amours,
Desquelles le nom je ne dis,
Car il me hayroit a tous jours.
LXXXV
Item, a maistre Jehan Cornu,
Autres nouveaux lays luy vueil faire,
Car il m'a tous jours subvenu
A mon grand besoing et affaire :
Pour ce, le jardin luy transfere,
Que maistre Pierre Bobignon
M'arenta, en faisant re faire
L'huys et redrecer le pignon.
The Great Testament
across his (Villon's) girl with a twisted nose,
he says to her, "Dirty slut, where have you
come from?"
Here follows the ballade. See p. 37.
LXXXIV
Item. To Master Ythier, merchant, to
whom he left his sword (see Petit Testa-
ment, verse xi) he leaves the following lay
to be set to music. It is a De Profundis
for an old love whose name no one must
know, else Ythier would hate Villon al-
ways.
Here follow* "Lay, ou Plustost Rondel." See p. 39.
LXXXV
Item. To Master Jehan Cornu, who
has looked after his affairs well in the past,
he gives the garden that Pierre Bobignon
(in the old editions Bourguignon) rented
him (Villon), so long as he mends the door
and gable. Cornu was clerk to the
Provostry.
( 173 )
Le Grand Testament
LXXXVI
Par faulte (Tung buys, j'y perdis
Ung grez et ung manche de hoiie.
Alors, huyt f aulcons, non pas dix,
N'y eussent pas prins une alloiie.
L 'hostel est seur, mais qu'on le cloiie.
Pour enseigne y mis ung havet.
Qui que Fait prins, point ne Ten loiie:
Sanglante nuict et has chevet!
LXXXVII
Item, et pource que la f emme
De maistre Pierre Sainct Amant
( Combien, se coulpe y a ou blasme,
Dien luy pardonne doulcement!)
Me meist en reng de caymant,
Pour le Cheval Blanc, qui ne bouge,
Luy delaisse une jument,
Et pour la Mulle, ung Asne rouge.
LXXXVIII
Item, donne a sire Denys
Hesselin, Esleu de Paris,
Quatorze muys de vin d'Aulnis,
Prins chez Turgis, a mes peril?.
The Great Testament
LXXXVI
For want of a door he lost a home and
a hoe-handle. This verse is very obscure,
and the original French is more luminous
than Prompsault's (or any other) reading.
LXXXVII
Because the wife of Pierre Sainct Amant
looks down on him he gives her, for the
White Horse that does not move, a mare;
and, for the Mule, a red ass (see Petit
Testament, verse xn). Sainct Amant was
clerk of the king's treasury, according to
Sauval.
LXXXVIII
Item. He gives to Sire Denis Hesselin
(Esleu de Paris) fourteen casks of wine
d'Aulnis stolen from Turgis by Villon at
( 175 )
Le Grand Testament
S'il en beuvoit tant que periz
En fust son sens et sa raison,
Qu'on mette de Feau es barrilz:
Vin perd mainte bonne maison.
LXXXIX
Item, donne a mon advocat
Maistre Guillaume Charruau,
Quoy qu'il marchande ou ait estat,
Bon branc . . . Je me tays du fourreau,
II aura, avec ce, ung reau
En change, affin que sa bourse enfle,
Prins sur la Chaussee et carreau
De la grant closture du Temple.
xc
Item, mon procureur Fournier
Aura, pour toutes ses corvees
( Simple seroit de Fespargner) ,
En ma bourse quatre havees,
car maintes causes m'a saulvees,
Justes (ainsi Jesus-Christ m'ayde!)
Comme elle ont este trouvees. . .
Mais bon droit a bon mestier d'ayde.
( 176 )
The Great Testament
his peril (Robin Turgis was landlord of the
Pomme de Pin) . If he drinks too much, let
him put water in the barrel; wine destroys
many a good house. Hesselin was a great
drinker also Provost of the Merchants from
1470 to 1474.
LXXXIX
Item. He gives to his advocate, Maistre
Guillaume Charruau, who has turned mer-
chant, his sword — without the scabbard, and
a Royal in copper money to fill his purse,
levied from toll on the market-place of the
Temple. Charruau was at the university be-
fore Villon. He became Bachelor and
Master of Arts.
xc
Item. To his procureur, Fournier, he
gives "quatre havees" (the havee was a toll
on the markets of Paris) for his services in
gaining him certain causes — even a good
cause has need of a good advocate.
( 177 )
Le Grand Testament
xci
Item, je donne, a maistre Jaques
Raguyer, le grand godet de Greve,
Pourveu qu'il payera quatre plaques,
Deust-il vendre, quoy qu'il luy griefve,
Ce dont on ceuvre mol et greve,
Aller, sans chausse, en eschappin,
Tous les matins, quand il se lieve,
Au trou de la Pomme de pin.
xcn
Item, quant est de Mairebeuf
Et de Nicolas de Louviers,
Vache ne leur donne, ne beuf ,
Car vachers ne sont, ne bouviers,
Mais gens a porter esperviers
(Ne cuidez pas que je vous joiiel)
Pour prendre perdriz et plouviers,
Sans f aillir, sur la Maschecroiie.
XCIII
Item, vienne Robin Turgis
A moy: je luy payeray son vin. . .
Combien? S'il trouve mon logis,
Plus fort sera que le devin.
( 178 )
The Great Testament
xci
Item. He gives to Master Jaques
Raguyer, the Grand Godet de Greve (a
public-house on the Place de Greve) on
condition that he pays four plaques (a coin
of Charles VII) for rent, even if he has to
sell his breeches to raise the money, and go
each morning barefoot to buy wine at the
Pomme de Pin.
xcn
Item. To Mairebeuf and Nicolas de
Louviers he gives neither ox nor cow,
seeing that they are not drovers ; but people
who go hawking may take partridges and
plovers without failing on the Maschecroiie
(supposed to be a plain by the Crou, a lit-
tle river-tributary of the Seine). Villon
says he is not joking in this.
xcin
Item. If Robin Turgis comes to him
he will pay him for his wine; that is to
say, if Turgis can find him. This may be
( 179 )
Le Grand Testament
Le droit luy donne d'eschevin,
Que j'ay, comme enfant de Paris. , .
Se je parle ung pou poictevin,
Yce m'eut deux dames appris.
xciv
Filles sont tresbelles et gentes,
Demourantes a Sainct-Genou,
Pres Sainct- Julian des Voventes,
Marches de Bretaigne ou Poictou,
Mais je ne dy proprement ou,
Par qu'elles passent tous les jours,
M'arme! ne seray pas si fou,
Car je veuil celer mes amours.
xcv
Item, a Jehan Raguyer je donne,
Qui est sergent, voire des Douze,
Tant qu'il vivra, ainsi Fordonne,
Tous les jours, une talemouze,
Pour brouter et f ourrer sa mouse,
Prinse a la table de Bailly;
A Maubuey sa gorge arrouse,
Car au manger n'a pas f ailly.
( 180 )
The Great Testament
rather difficult, also, he leaves Turgis his
right, which he holds as a child of Paris.
If Villon sometimes speaks Poictevin, it was
taught him by two ladies.
xciv
Girls very fair and kindly, living at
Sainct-Genou, near Sainct- Julian des Vo-
ventes, or in the marches of Brittany or
Poitou. He hints that this address is not the
right one; he is not going to tell everyone
where his sweethearts live.
xcv
Item. He gives to Jehan Raguyer (one
of the twelve sergeants attached to the
Provost of Paris) a "talemouze" (a sort of
pie made of eggs, butter, and cheese) every
day, taken from the table of Bailly. And
let him quench his thirst at Maubuey (the
fountain Maubuey was situated in the
rue de Maubuey, a low street) .
Le Grand Testament
XCVI
Item, donne au Prince des Sotz,
Pour ung bon sot, Michault du Four,
Qui a la fois dit de bons motz
Et chante bien: Ma doulce amour!
Avec ce, il aura le bon jour.
Brief, mais qu'il fust ung peu en poinct,
II est ung droit sot de sejour,
Et est plaisant oii il n'est point.
xcvn
Item, aux unze vingtz Sergens
Donne, car leur faict est honneste,
Et sont bonnes et doulces gens,
Denis Richier et Jehan VaUette,
A chascun une grant cornette,
Pour pendre a leurs chappeaulx de feautres
J'entendz ceulx de pied, a la guette
Car je n'ay que faire des autres.
XCVIII
De rechef , donne a Perinet
J'entendz le bastart de la Barre,
Pource qu'il est beau fils et net,
En son escu, en lieu de barre.
( 182 )
The Great Testament
XCVI
Item. He gives to the Prince of Fools,
for a companion, Michault du Four, who
sings so well Ma doulce amour (a song
of the day). He hints that the wit of
Michault is a questionable quantity. Four
was one of the sergeants of the Chatelet.
XCVII
He gives to Denis Richier and Jehan
Vallette, sergeants of the Provostry of
Paris, a nightcap apiece. Foot-sergeants
these. He knows nothing of the others (the
Provost of Paris had two companies of ser-
geants under him, one horse, the other foot) .
XCVIII
He gives to Perinet, the Bastard de la
Barro, cogged dice and swindlers' playing-
cards, to take the place of the bar on his
scutcheon!
( 183 )
Le Grand Testament
Trois dez plombez, de bonne carre,
Et ung beau joly jeu de cartes. . .
Mais quoy! s'on 1'oyt vessir ne poirre,
En oultre, aura les fievres quartes.
xcix
Item, ne vueil plus que Chollet
Dolle, trenche, douve, ne boyse,
Relye brocq ne tonnelet,
Mais tous ses outilz changer voyse
A une espee lyonnoise,
Et retienne le hutinet:
Combien qu'il n'ayme bruyt ne noyse,
Si luy plaist-il ung tantinet.
Item, je donne a Jehan le Loup,
Homme de bien et bon marchant,
Pource qu'il est linget et flou,
Et que Chollet est mal cherchant,
Ung beau petit chiennet couchant,
Qui ne lairra poulaille en voye,
Ung long tabart, et bien cachant,
Pour les musser, qu'on ne les voye.
The Great Testament
Perinet was a scapegrace who really
belonged to a good old family. Jean de
la Barre was governor of Paris in 1520.
xcix
Item. He gives to Chollet (see Petit
Testament, verse vm) no workman's tools.
Let him change his tools for a Lyons
sword. It will be useful to him in his
quarrels.
Item. He gives to Jehan le Loup
"ung long tabart" (to cover his robberies),
and a young setter to help to catch the
fowls he is sure to steal. He makes men-
tion of Chollet again (see Petit Testament,
verse xxiv) .
( 185 )
Le Grand Testament
ci
Item, a 1'orfevre Du Boys,
Donne cent clouz, queues et testes.
De gingembre sarazinoys,
Non pas pour accoupler ses boytes,
Mais pour conjoindre culz et coettes,
Et couldre jambons et andoilles,
Tant que le laict en monte es tettes,
Et le sang en devalle es coilles.
en
Au cappitaine Jehan Rou,
Tant pour luy que pour ses archiers,
Je donne six hures de lou,
Qui n'est pas viande a porchiers,
Prins a gros mastins de bouchiers,
Et cuittes en vin de buffet. . .
Pour manger de ces morceaulx chiers,
On en f eroit bien ung mal f aict.
cm
C'est viande ung peu plus pesante,
Que duvet, ne plume, ne liege.
Elle est bonne a porter en tente,
Ou pour user en quelque siege.
( 186 )
The Great Testament
ci
Item. To the goldsmith Du Boys he
giveth a hundred cloves' of ginger. Ginger
was reckoned an aphrodisiac. The rest of
the verse is untranslatable — but not ob-
scure.
en
To Captain Jehan Rou "six hures de
lou" (this is supposed to mean six pounds
of the flesh of Jean le Loup) stewed in wine
—a fine diet for those who would do deeds
of ferocityl
cm
Grand food for an army in the field, or
besieged! But should the hunting-dogs
( 187 )
Le Grand Testament
Et, s'ilz estoient prins a ung piege,
Ces mastins, qu'ilz ne sceussent courre,
J'ordonne, moy qui suis bon miege,
Que des peaulx, sur Fhyver, se f ourre.
civ
Item, a Robin Troussecaille,
Qui en service s'est bien faict,
A pied ne va comme une caille,
Mais sur rouen gros et reffaict,
Je luy donne, de mon buffet,
Une jatte qu'emprunter n'ose.
Si aura mesnage parfait:
Plus ne luy failloit autre chose.
cv
Item, donne a Perrot Girart,
Barbier jure du Bourg-la-Royne,
Deux bassins et ung coquemart,
Puisqu'a gaigner meet telle peine.
Des ans y a demy douzaine
Qu'en son hostel, de cochons gras
M'apastela, une sepmaine:
Tesmoing Tabesse de Pourras.
( 188 )
The Great Testament
fail to catch Jean le Loup, and be killed
themselves, Villon, who knows all about it,
orders that their skins should be tanned,
and made into furs for him (Captain
Rou).
civ
Item. To Robin Troussecaille, who dis-
dains to go afoot, and rides a stout roan,
he gives his plate, that the said Robin dare
not borrow nor steal. Robin then will want
nothing else.
cv
Item. He gives to Perrot Girart, sworn
barber of Bourg-la-Royne, two basins and
a kettle, inasmuch as Perrot supported
Villon and the Abesse de Pourras for a
week, killing for them all his pigs. (Perrot
Girart was also an inn-keeper.)
( 189 )
Le Grand Testament
cvi
Item, aux Freres mendians,
Aux Devotes et aux Beguines,
Tant de Paris que d'Orleans,
Tant Turlupins que Turlupines
De grasses souppes jacobines
Et flans leur f ais oblation,
Et puis apres, soubz les courtines,
Parler de contemplation.
cvn
Si ne suis-je pas qui leur donne,
Mais de tous enf ans sont les meres.
C'est Dieu, qui ainsi les guerdonne,
Pour qu'ilz souffrent peines ameres.
II fault qu'ilz vivent, les beaulx peres,
Et mesmement ceulx de Paris.
S'ilz font plaisir a noz commeres,
Us ayment ainsi les maris.
CVIII
Quoy que maistre Jehan de Pontlieu
En voulsist dire, et reliqua,
Contrainct, et en publique lieu,
Honteusement s'en revocqua.
( 190 )
The Great Testament
cvi
Item. To the Mendicant Brothers, the
Devotes, the Beguines of Paris and Or-
leans, he makes oblation of fat soups and
custards. (Prompsault thinks the Devotes
were the same as the Filles-Dieu. ) When
they have filled themselves let them talk of
contemplation (under the sheets).
cvn
In this and the two succeeding stanzas
he talketh of the church-people aforesaid.
( 191 )
Le Grand Testament
Maistre Jehan de Meung se moqua
De leur fa9on; si feit Mathieu.
Mais on doit honnorer ce qu'a
Honnore 1'Eglise de Dieu.
cix
Si me soubmectz leur serviteur,
En tout ce que puis f aire et dire,
A les honnorer de bon cueur,
Et servir, sans y contredire.
L'homme bien fol est d'en mesdire,
Car, soit a part, ou en prescher,
Ou ailleurs, il ne fault pas dire
Si gens sont pour eulx revencher.
ex
Item, je donne a frere Baulde,
Demourant a Fhostel des Carmes,
Portant chere bardie et baulde,
Une sallade et deux guysarmes,
Que De Tusca et ses gens d'armes
Ne luy riblent sa Caige-vert.
Vieil est: s'il ne se rend aux armes,
C'est bien le diable de Vauvert.
( 192 )
The Great Testament
ex
He gives to frere Baulde (Henri Baulde,
a contemporary poet) certain armour to
help him resist De Tusca (sergeant of po-
lice), should the latter interfere in his
amours. Baulde belonged to the Carmelites
of the Place Maubert. He was one of Vil-
lon's boon companions.
( 193 )
Le Grand Testament
CXI
Item, pource que le S^elleur
Maint estront de mousche a masche,
Donne, car homme est de valleur,
Son sceau davantage crache,
Et qu'il ait le poulce escache,
Pour tout empraindre a une voye:
J'entendy celluy de 1'Evesche,
Car les autres, Dieu les pourvoye.
cxn
Quant de messieurs les Auditeux,
Leur Chambre auront lembroysee,
Et ceulx qui ont le cul rongneux,
Chascun une chaise percee,
Mais qu'a la petite Mace
D'Orleans, qui eut ma ceincture,
L'amende soit bien hault taxee:
Elle est une mauvaise ordure.
CXIII
Item, donne a maistre Fran9oys,
Promoteur de la vacquerie.
Ung hault gorgerin d'Escossoys,
Toutesfois sans orfaverie:
( 194 )
The Great Testament
CXI
Item. He gives to the Chancellor of
Orleans (Jean de Sellier) a curse. Let him
spew on his own seal and sprain his thumb.
cxn
He gives Messieurs the Auditors pannel-
ing for their chamber and each a pierced
chair if they will properly punish Macee
d' Orleans, a prostitute who stole his vir-
ginity!— "Elle est une mauvaise ordure."
CXIII
He gives to Maistre Fran^oys — an eccle-
siastic— a Scotch throat-protector, inas-
( 195 )
Le Grand Testament
Car, quant receut chevalerie,
II maugrea Dieu et saint George.
Parler n'en oyt, qu'il ne s'en rie,
Comme enrage, a pleine gorge.
cxiv
Item, a maistre Jehan Laurens,
Qui a les povres yeulx si rouges,
Par le peche de ses parens,
Qui beurent en barilz et courges,
Je donne Fenvers de mes bouges,
Pour chascun matin les torcher. . .
S'il fust archevesque de Bourges,
Du cendal eust, mais il est cher.
cxv
Item, a maistre Jehan Cotart,
Mon procureur en Court d'Eglise,
Devoye environ ung patart
(A ceste heure je m'en advise),
Quant chicanner me feit Denise,
Disant que Favoye mauldite:
Pour son ame, qu'es cieulx soit mise,
Ceste Oraison j'ay cy escripte.
( 196 )
The Great Testament
much as he cursed God and St. George
when he put on chivalry, and always laughs
when he hears them spoken of.
cxiv
Item. To Maistre Jehan Laurens, whose
poor eyes are always red (from the sin of
his parents, who were drunkards), he gives
his hose to wipe them with every morning.
If Jehan had been Archbishop of Bourges
he would have had sendal for the purpose
— but it is dear. Laurens was one of the
judges who tried Guy Tabarie for theft.
cxv
Item. To Maistre Jehan Cotart, his pro-
cureur in the Court d'Eglise (Court of
Arches), who defended him when an action
was brought against him by a girl called
Denise for having sworn at her (damned her
soul, most probably) he gives this oraison.
Here follows "Ballade et Oraison/' See p. 40.
( 197 )
Le Grand Testament
cxvi
Item, vueil que Germain de Merle
Desormais gouverne mon change,
Car de changer envys me mesle,
Pourveu que tous jours bailie en change,
Soit a prive, soit a estrange,
Pour trois escus, six brettes targes,
Pour deux angelotz, ung grand ange :
Car amans doivent estre larges.
cxvn
Item, j'ay sceu, en ce voyage,
Que mes trois povres orphelins
Sont creus et deviennent en aage,
Et n'ont pas testes de belins,
Et qu'enfans d'icy a Salins
N'a mieulx sachans leur tour d'escolle.
Or, par 1'ordre des Mathelins,
Telle jeunesse n'est pas folle.
CXVIII
Si vueil qu'ilz voysent a Festude.
Ou? Chez maistre Pierre Richer.
Le Donnet est pour eulx trop rude:
Ja ne les y vueil empescher.
( 198 )
m i
The Great Testament
CXVI
Item. He wills that Germain de Merle
shall govern his bank, and that he shall give
good change. For three ecus, six Breton
targes (a targe equalled one demiecu) ; for
two demi-anges, one ange. Lovers should
always be generous. Merle was a merchant
of Paris.
CXVII
Item. He has seen that his three poor
orphans (see Petit Testament, verses xxv-
xxvi ) are grown up and are not fools.
They live at Salins, and there are no better
scholars.
CXVIII
He wills that they should be sent to
college under Pierre Richer. The grammar
of ^lius Donatus (then in use at the Paris
University) is too stiff for them. He does
( 199 )
Le Grand Testament
Ilz S9auront ( je 1'ayme plus cher) :
Ave solus, tibi decus,
Sans plus grandes lettres chercher:
Tous jours n'ont pas clercs le dessus.
cxrx
Cecy estudient, et puis ho!
Plus proceder je leur deifens.
Quant d'entendre le grand Credo,
Trop fort il est pour telz enfans.
Mon grant tabart en deux je fendz:
Si vueil que la moictie s'en vende,
Pour eulx en achepter des flans,
Car jeunesse est ung peu friande.
cxx
Et vueil qu'ilz soient inf ormez
En meurs, quoy que couste bature.
Chapperons auront enfermez,
Et les poulces soubz la ceincture,
Humbles a toute creature,
Disans: Hen? Quoy? II nen est rien!
Si diront gens, par adventure:
"Vez la enfans de lieu de bien"!
( 200 )
The Great Testament
not want to push them in learning too
hard. Learned people in these times make
little way in the world. Let them learn the
Ave solus j tibi decus.
CXIX
That is enough. The Grand Credo is too
hard for boys. He would tear his long
tabard in two and sell half of it to buy
them custards — children love sweets.
cxx
He would have them taught good man-
ners. They must wear close hoods and keep
their thumbs in their girdles, making reply,
"Hen? Quoy? II n'en est rien." So that
folk may say, "These are well bred boys."
( 201 )
Le Grand Testament
cxxi
Item, a mes povres clergeons,
Auxquelz mes tiltres je resigne,
Beaulx enfans et droictz comme joncs,
Les voyans, je m'en dessaisine,
Et, sans recevoir, leur assigne,
Seur comme qui Tauroit en paulme,
A ung certain jour que Ton signe,
Sur Fhostel de Gueutry Guillaume.
CXXII
Quoy que jeunes et esbatans
Soyent, en rien ne me desplaist.
Dedans vingt, trente ou quarante ans,
Bien autres seront, se Dieu plaist.
II faict mal, qui ne leur complaist:
Us sont tresbeaux enf ants et gents,
Et qui les bat ou fiert fol est,
Car enfans si deviennent gens.
CXXIII
Les bourses des Dix-et-huict clercs
Auront, je m'y vueil travailler:
Pas ilz ne dorment comme lerz,
Qui trois mois sont sans resveiller.
( 202 )
The Great Testament
CXXI
Item. To his poor clerks (see Petit
Testament, verse xxvin) he gives the rent
of the pillory.
CXXII
They will get on all right and become
men. Though they are now young and
rackety, twenty, thirty, or forty years will
make a lot of difference. Whoever beats
or abuses them is a fool.
CXXIII
They will have the purses of the eighteen
clerks (become members of the College
des Dix-huit founded for poor students
( 203 )
Grand Testament
Au fort, triste est le sommeiller
Que faict jeune cueur en jeunesse,
Tant qu'enfin luy faille veiller,
Quant reposer deust en viellesse.
cxxiv
Cy en rescris au Collateur
Lettres semblables ou pareilles:
Or prient pour leur bienfaicteur,
Ou qu'on leur tire les oreilles.
Aucunes gens ont grans merveilles
Que tant m'encline envers ces deux;
Mais, f oy que doy, festes et veilles,
Oncques ne vey les meres d'eulx!
cxxv
Item, donne a Michault Culdou,
Et a sire Chariot Taranne,
Cent solz (s'ilz demandent prins ou,
Ne leur chaille, ils viendront de manne) ,
Et unes bottes de basanne,
Autant empeigne que semelle,
Pourveu qu'ilz me saulveront Jehanne,
Et autant une autre comme elle.
( 204 )
The Great Testament
near the College de Cluny). They are not
like dormice, that sleep away their time. Let
not youth sleep, else age may have to keep~
awake.
cxxiv
Therefore he writes to the Collateur
(Almoner of the College des Dix-huit) to
see that they pray for their benefactor. If
not, to pull their ears. People wonder why
he takes such an interest in them. He swears
he has never even seen their mothers!
cxxv
Item. He gives to Michault Culdou and
to Chariot Taranne a hundred sols, also a
pair of boots of tanned leather, on condi-
tion that they have nothing to do with Je-
hanne (Jehanne de Bretagne? see verse
CXLI) or any one like her.
( 205 )
Le Grand Testament
CXXVI
Item, au seigneur de Grigny,
Auquel jadis laissay Vicestre,
Je donne la tour de Billy,
Pourveu (se buys y a ne fenestre
Qui soit de debout ne en estre)
Qu'il mette tresbien tout en poinct,
Face argent, a dextre, a senestre:
II m'en fault, et il n'en a point.
cxxvn
Item, a Thibault de la Garde:
Thibault? Je mentz, il a nom Jehan.
Que luy donray-je, que ne perde?
Assez ay perdu tout cest an.
Dieu le vueille pouvoir, amen! . . .
Le barillet? Par m'ame, voyre!
Genevoys est plus ancien,
Et a plus beau nez pour y boyre.
CXXVIII
Item, je donne a Basanyer,
Notaire et greffier criminel,
De giroffle plain ung panyer,
Prins chez maistre Jehan de Ruel;
( 206 )
The Great Testament
cxxvi
Item. To the Seigneur de Grigny (to
whom, in the Petit Testament, he left
Bicetre) he gives the Tour de Billy (an old
powder-magazine now in ruins on the Seine
bank, close to the Hotel St. Pol) on the con-
dition that he patches it up.
CXXVII
Item. To Thibault de la Garde, whose
real name is John (see Petit Testament,
verse xxxin) . He gives nothing; can't af-
ford it. (Thibault is the before-mentioned
grocer of La Garde.) He is supposed in
reality to be Petit Thibault, otherwise
known as Petit Jean, the robber.
CXXVIII
Item. He gives to Bassanyer, Notary
et greffier criminel (see Petit Testament,
verse xxi) a basket of cloves stolen by
Villon from the shop of Jehan de Ruel.
( 207 )
Le Grand Testament
Tant a Mautainct, tant a Resnel;
Et, avec ce don de giroffle,
Servir, de cueur gent et ysnel,
Le seigneur qui sert sainct Cristofle
cxxix
Auquel ceste Ballade donne,
Pour sa dame, qui tous biens a.
S 'amours ainsi tous ne guer donne,
Je ne m'esbahys de cela,
Car au Pas conquester Fala,
Que tint Rene, roy de Cecille,
Ou si bien fist et peu parla
Qu'oncques Hector f eit, ne Troile.
cxxx
Item, a sire Jehan Perdryer,
Riens, n'a Fran9oys, son second f rere,
S'ils m'ont tous jours voulu aydier,
Et de leurs biens faire confrere,
Combien que Fran^oys, mon compere,
Langues cuisans, flambans et rouges,
My commandement, my priere,
Me recommanda fort a Bourges.
( 208 )
The Great Testament
He gives the same to Mautainct and Resnel
that they may serve well the seigneur who
serves Saint Christopher. (Jehan de Ruel
is the same Thibault de la Garde; he had a
grocer's shop at Rueil.) The seigneur in
question was Robert d'Estouteville.
cxxix
To this seigneur, who gained his bride at
the tournament organised by King Rene,
he dedicates the following ballade — of
which the two first verses give the acrostic
— Ambroise de Lorede. Poor Ambroise
died in 1468, "Espoused for this do we two
meet."
Here follows the ballade. See p. 42.
cxxx
Item. He gives nothing to Sire Jehan
Perdryer, and nothing to Frai^oys, his
brother. If they have helped him at times
they have slanderous tongues ("flambans et
rouges"). They were his accomplices, and
denounced him at Bourges. Hence his im-
prisonment.
( 209 )
L,e Grand Testament
CXXXI
Si aille veoir, en Taillevent,
Ou chapitre de fricassure,
Tout au long, derriere et devant,
Lequel n'en parle jus ne sure.
Mais Macquaire, je vous asseure,
Atout le poil cuysant ung dyable,
Affin que sentist bon Tarsure,
Ce Recipe m'escript, sans fable.
cxxxu
Item, a maistre Andry Courault,
Les Contredictz Franc-Gontier mande.
Quant du Tyrant seant en hault,
A cestuy-la rien ne demande.
Le Saige ne veult que contende,
Centre puissant, povre homme las,
Affin que ses filez ne tende
Et que ne tresbuche en ses laqs.
( 210 )
The Great Testament
CXXXI
Let them go and read in Taillevent (the
book by Taillevent, chief cook to the King
of France) the chapter on fricassees to see
if they can find out Villon's method of
stewing them. No, it was Macquaire
(Saint Macaire) whom he once met cooking
a devil that gave him the following. So we
may imagine.
Here follows the ballade. See Appendix.
CXXXII
Item. To Maistre Andry Courault he
gives the Contredictz Franc-Gontier (a lit-
tle book vaunting the simple life and en-
titled Les Ditz de Franc Gontier, produced
a counterblast called the Contredictz de
Franc-Gontier^ in which the life of a cer-
tain seigneur was caricatured). Villon,
wiser, uses in his ballade only the life of a
fat priest. It does not do to cross the path
of great people.
( 211 )
Le Grand Testament
CXXXIII
Gontier ne crains: il n'a nulz hommes,
Et mieulx que moy n'est herite.
Mais en ce debat cy nous sommes,
Car il loue sa povrete:
Estre povre, yver et este,
A felicite il repute:
Ce que tiens a malheurete.
Lequel a tort? Or en dispute.
cxxxiv
Item, pource que S9ait la Bible
Madamoyselle de Bruyeres,
Donne prescher lors FEvangile
A elle et a ses bachelieres,
Pour retraire ces villotieres
Qui ont le bee si affile,
Mais que ce soit hors cymetieres
Trop bien au marche au file.
( 212 )
The Great Testament
CXXXIII
Gontier praises poverty; Villon cries out
against it. He leaves it to the reader to de-
cide which is right. Gontier, by the way,
was Philippe de Vitry, Bishop of Meaux.
The Contredictz were written by Cardinal
Pierre d'Ailly, Chancellor of the University
of Paris.
Here follows the ballade. See p. 44.
cxxxrv
Item. He bestows the following bal-
lade upon Madamoyselle de Bruyeres and
her kind. That is to say, Isabelle de
Bruyers, widow of Regnauld de Thumery.
This is probably the Isabeau of Villon's
tragedy.
Here follows "The Ballade Des Femmes de Paris."
See p. 47.
( 213 )
Le Grand Testament
cxxxv
Regarde-m'en deux, trois, assises
Sur le bas du ploy de leurs robes,
En ces monstiers, en ces eglises:
Tire-toy pres, et ne t'en hobes;
Tu trouveras la que Macrobes
Oncques ne fist fels jugemens;
Entens quelque chose en desrobes:
Ce sont f ous beaulx enseignemens.
cxxxvi
Item, et au mont de Montmartre,
Qui est ung lieu moult ancien,
Je luy donne et adjoins le tertre
Qu'on dit le mont Valerien,
Et, oultre plus, ung quartier d'an
Du pardon qu'apportay de Romme:
Si y va maint bon chrestian
Veoir Fabbaye ou il n'entre homme.
CXXXVII
Item, a varletz, chambrieres
(De bons hostelz riens ne me nuyst)
Faisans tartes, flans et goyeres,
Et grant ravaudiz a minuict:
( 214 )
The Great Testament
cxxxv
Look at them seated in convents and
churches, on the edges of their robes by two
and three — steal close to them, and you will
hear judgments which Macrobius could not
give. (He refers to the works of Macro-
bius entitled, S omnium Scipionis and the
Saturnalia, first printed by Jenson at Ven-
ice in 1472.)
CXXXVI
Item. To Montmartre he gives Mont
Valerian. Let them be joined. There was
a convent on each hill, and each convent was
built on the ruins of a pagan temple — and
to both he will give for three months the par-
don he has brought from Rome. He judges
that many men will thus be found on the
premises.
CXXXVII
Item. To the servants, male and female,
of good hostels he gives all sorts of good
food and revelry.
( 215 )
Le Grand Testament
Riens n'y font sept pintes ne huict,
Tant que gisent seigneur et dame;
Puis apres, sans mener grant bruyt,
Ont chascune nuict une femme.
CXXXVIII
Item, et a filles de bien,
Qui ont peres, meres et antes,
Par m'ame! je ne donne rien,
Car j'ay tout donne aux servantes,
Mais ell' seront de peu contentes:
Grant bien leur f eissent maintz lopins,
Aux povres filles advenantes,
Qui se perdent aux Jacopins.
CXXXIX
Aux Celestins et aux Chartreux,
Quoyque vie meinent estroicte,
Si ont-ilz largement entre eulx,
Dont povres filles ont souffrette:
Tesmoing Jaqueline et Perrette,
Et Isabeau, qui dit: Enne!
Puisqu'elles ont telle disette,
A peine en seroit-on damne.
( 216 )
The Great Testament
CXXXVIII
Item. To good girls possessing fathers,
mothers, and aunts, he gives nothing. He
has nothing to give, as he has given every-
thing to the servants, who are always con-
tent with little. Yet they deserve something,
if only the leavings of the Jacobins. (He
refers to the rich establishment of the Jaco-
bins in the rue St. Jacques.)
He complains that the rich houses of the
religious orders (Celestins and Chartreux
included) indulge in food that the poor girls
know nothing of. Poor Jaqueline and Per-
rette and Isabeau, always hungry — surely
after such a life in this world they will
escape damnation in the next!
( 217 )
Le Grand Testament
CXL
Item, a la grosse Margot,
Tresdoulce face et pourtraicture,
Foy que doy, Belare Bigod,
Assez devote creature:
Je Fayme de propre nature,
Et elle moy, la doulce sade.
Qui la trouvera d'adventure,
Qu'on luy lise ceste Ballade.
CXLI
Item, a Marion 1'Ydolle,
Et la grant Jehanne de Bretaigne,
Donne tenir publique escolle,
Ou Tescolier le maistre enseigne.
Lieu n'est ou ce marche ne tienne,
Sinon en la geolle de Mehun;
De quoy je dy: Fy de Tenseigne,
Puisque Touvrage est si commun!
( 218 )
The Great Testament
CXL
Item. To fat Margot, fair to look at,
and devout enough — he gives — this ballade.
Here follows "The Ballade of Villon and La
Grosse Margot." See Appendix.
CXLI
Item. To Marion FYdolle (The Statue,
Filles de joie were nicknamed from their
appearance) and big Joan of Brittany he
gives the right to keep a public school ( ! )
where the scholars shall teach the masters —
a common thing except in Mehun jail.
( 219 )
L,e Grand Testament
CXLII
Item, a Noe le Jolys,
Autre chose je ne luy donne,
Fors plain poing d'osiers frez cueilliz
En mon jardin: je 1'abandonne.
Chastoy est une belle aulmosne:
Ame n'en doit estre marry.
Unze vingtz coups luy en erdonne,
Par les mains de maistre Henry.
CXLIII
Item, ne scay que a THostel-Dieu
Donner, n'aux povres hospitaulx:
Bourdes n'ont icy temps ne lieu,
Car povres gens ont assez maulx.
Chascun leur envoye leurs aulx.
Les Mandians ont eu mon oye.
Au fort, ilz en auront les os:
A menues gens menue mohnoye.
CXLIV
Item, je donne a mon barbier,
Qui se nomme Colin Galerne,
Pres voysin d'Angelot THerbier,
Ung gros glasson . . . Prins ou? En
Marne,
( 220 )
T/ie Great Testament
CXLII
Item. To Noe le Jolys — the man who
beat him at the order of Katherine de
Vaucelles — he gives nothing but a handful
of osiers from his garden, the said Noe to
be thrashed with the osiers at the hands of
Henri Cousin (the sworn tormentor of the
Provostry of Paris).
CXLIII
Item. He does not know what to leave
to the Hotel-Dieu. In other words, he does
not care to jest about sick people who have
troubles enough and to spare. Let them
have the leavings of the rich tables. The
Mendicants have had his goose; there is
nothing for the hospitals but the bones. To
poor people little mercy.
CXLIV
He gives to his barber, Colin Galerne,
who lives near Angelot, the herbalist,
a big lump of ice from the Marne, to put
( 221 )
Le Grand Testament
Affin qu'a son ayse s'yverne.
De Festomach le tienne pres.
Se 1'yver ainsi se gouverne,
II n'aura chauld 1'este d'apres.
CXLV
Item, rien aux Enf ans-Trouvez,
Mais les perduz fault que console,
Si doivent estre retrouvez,
Par droict, chez Marion FYdolle,
Une lec,on de mon escolle
Leur liray, qui ne dure guiere.
Teste n'ayent dure ne f olle,
Mais escoutent : c'est la darniere !
CXLVI
A vous parle, compaings de galles,
Qui estes de tous bons accords :
Gardez-vous tous de ce mau hasles,
Qui noircist gens quand ilz sont mortz;
Eschevez-le, c'est ung mal mors;
Passez-vous au mieulx que pourrez,
Et, pour Dieu, soyez tous recors
Qu'une fois viendra que mourrez,
( 222 )
The Great Testament
on his stomach (to match his cold heart?).
After that he won't bother about seasonal
temperature. Galerne was also church-
warden at Saint- Germain-le-Vieux, one of
the churches on the cite.
CXLV
He leaves nothing to the "Enfans-
Trouvez"; but to the Lost Ones who
frequent Marion FYdolle he will read the
following lesson in the form of a ballade.
Here follows "Ballade de Villon aux Enfans Per-
duz" and "Ballade de Bonne Doctrine." See pp. 4>9,
51.
CXLVI
He calls on his evil companions to look
out for the gallows. "Beware of the sun
that blackens men when they are dead."
( 223 )
Le Grand Testament
CXLVII
Item, je donne aux Quinze-Vingtz,
Qu'autant vauldroit nommer Trois-Cens,
De Paris, non pas de Provins,
Car a eulx tenu je me sens;
Ilz auront, et je m'y consens,
Sans leur estui, mes grans lunettes,
Pour mettre a part, aux Innocens,
Les gens de bien des deshonnestes.
CXLVIII
Icy n'y a ne rys ne jeu!
Que leur vault avoir eu chevances,
N'en grans lictz de parement geu,
Engloutir vin en grosses pances,
Mener joye, festes et dances,
Et de ce prest estre a toute heure?
Tantost faillent telles plaisances,
Et la coulpe si en demeure.
CXLIX
Quand je considere ces testes
Entassees en ces charniers,
Tous furent maistres des requestes,
Au moins de la Chambre aux Deniers,
( 224 )
The Great Testament
CXLVII
Item. He gives to the Quinze-Vingtz
of Paris, not of Provins (hospital for the
blind) his spectacles, that they may pick out
the bad from the good in the Cemetery of
the Innocents. (Prompsault thinks that the
Quinze-Vingtz of Provins was a cabaret.)
The Quinze-Vingtz were bound to supply a
certain number of mourners to the funerals
in the cemetery of the Innocents.
CXLVIII
There (in the cemetery) is neither
laughter nor play, no "beds of honour," no
fetes nor dances ; nothing remains. But sin
does not die.
CXLIX
When he considers all those lying here,
lords and poor folk, bishops and basket-
( 225 )
Le Grand Testament
Ou tous furent porte-paniers,
Autant puis Tung que 1'autre dire:
Car, d'evesques ou lanterniers,
Je n'y congnois rien a redire.
CL
Et icelles qui s'inclinoient
Unes centre autres en leurs vies,
Desquelles les unes regnoient,
Des autres craintes et servies:
La les voy toutes assouvies,
Ensemble en ung tas mesle-pesle.
Seigneuries leur sont ravies:
Clerc ne maistre ne s'y appelle.
CLI
Or sont-ilz mortz, Dieu ayt leurs ames 1
Quant est des corps, liz sont pourriz.
Ayent este seigneurs ou dames,
Souef et tendrement nourriz
De cresme, fromentee ou riz,
Leurs os sont declinez en pouldre,
Auxquelz ne chault d'eshatz, ne riz. . .
Plaise au doulx Jesus les absouldrel
( 226 )
The Great Testament
carriers, he sees that their corpses are just
the same.
CL
People, too, who once bowed to each other,
princesses and servants — all are heaped to-
gether; master or clerk, there is no appeal.
CLI
Now they are dead God takes their
souls. Seigneurs and dames, soft and
tenderly nourished, on cream, frumenty, and
rice — all mouldering to dust. May Christ
absolve them.
( 227 )
Le Grand Testament
CLII
Aux trespassez je fais ce Lays,
Et icelluy je communique
A regentz, courtz, sieges et plaids,
Hayneurs d'avarice 1'inique,
Lesquelz pour la chose publique
Se seichent les os et les corps:
De Dieu et de sainct Dominique
Soient absolz, quand ilz seront mortz!
CLIII
Item, rien a Jaques Cardon
(Car rien plus n'ay que soit honneste,
Non pas que le jette a bandon),
Sinon ceste bergeronnette :
S'elle eust le chant Marionnette.,
Faict pour Marion la Peau-Tarde,
Ou de Ouvrez vostre huys, Guillemette,
Elle allast bien a la moustarde.
CLIV
Item, donne a maistre Lomer,
Comme extraict que je suis de fee,
Qu'il soit bien ame; mais, d'amer
Fille en chief ou femme coeffee,
( 228 )
The Great Testament
CLII
He makes this lay for them.
CLIII
He leaves nothing to Jacques Cardon, ex-
cept this rondel. Jacques Cardon was a
merchant draper and hosier. He lived in the
Place Maubert.
Here follows rondel. See p. 58.
CLIV
This gift he leaves to Maistre Lomer:
that he shall be well loved but incapable
of returning love, so that he may not
( 229 )
Le Grand Testament
Ja n'en ait la teste eschauffee,
Et qu'il ne luy couste une noix
Faire au soir cent fois la faifee.
En despit d'Ogier le Danois.
CLV
Item, donne aux amans enfermes,
Oultre le Lay Alain Chartier,
A leur chevetz, de pleurs et lermes
Trestout fin plain ung benoistier,
Et ung petit brin d'esglantier,
En tout temps verd, pour gouppillon,
Pourveu qu'ilz diront ung Psaultier
Pour Fame du povre Villon.
CLVI
Item, a maistre Jaques James,
Qui se tue d'amasser biens,
Donne fiancer tant de femmes
Qu'il vouldra; mais d'espouser, riens.
Pour qui amasse-il? Pour les siens.
II ne plainct, f ors que ses morceaulx.
Ce qui fut aux truyes, je tiens
Qu'il doit de droit estre aux pourceaulx.
( 230 )
The Great Testament
be fooled — for women may be easily
bought, despite the words of Holgar the
Dane.
CLV
He gives to love-sick ones Alain Char-
tier's Lay (I'Hopital d3 amour?) a little
bowl of/tears, and a branch of eglantine al-
ways fresh, for a sprinkler, on condition
that they recite a Psalter for the soul of poor
Villon. '
CLVI
Item. To Maistre Jaques James, who is
killing himself making money, he gives all
the women he wants, but no wife. Let the
money made from women go back to
women. (A nice commentary on the life -of
Jaques James!)
( 231 )
Le Grand Testament
CLVII
Item, le Camus, seneschal,
Qui une fois paya mes debtes,
En recompense, mareschal
Sera, pour ferrer ses canettes.
Je luy envoye ces sornettes
Pour soy desennuyer; combien,
Si veult, face-en des alumettes.
De bien chanter s'ennuye-on bien.
CLVIII
Item, au Chevalier du Guet
Je donne deux beaulx petiz pages,
Philippot et le gros marquet,
Qui ont servy (dont sont plus sages),
La plus grant partie de leurs aages,
Tristan, prevost des mareschaulx.
Helas, s'ilz sont cassez de gaiges,
Aller leur fauldra tous deschaulx!
CLIX
Item, a Chappelain je laisse
Ma chapelle a simple tonsure,
Chargee d'une seiche messe,
Ou il ne fault pas grant lecture.
( 232 )
The Great Testament
CLVII
Unto Camus the Seneschal, who once
paid his debts, he bequeaths the right of
shoeing not only horses, but ducks and geese
— let him laugh at this fun, or make a fire-
lighter of it. The ducks referred to by Vil-
lon were probably human ducks. The rue
des Canettes, in the Faubourg St. Germain,
was named after its frequenters.
CLVIII
To the Captain of the Watch he gives
two pretty pages Philipot and fat Marquet.
They have already served Tristan Prevost
des Mareschaulx (Tristan the Hermit; see
Victor Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris) . If
they should lose their engagement they
must go barefooted. Tristan was provost
of the Hotel du Roi.
CLIX
Item. He leaves to Chappelain his
"chapelle a simple tonsure," charging him
only to say a low mass. Villon would
( 233 )
Le Grand Testament
Resigne luy eusse ma cure,
Mais point ne veult de charge (Tames;
De confesser, ce dit, n'a cure,
Sinon chambrieres et dames.
CLX
Pource que s^ait bien mon entente,
Jehan de Calays, honnorable homme,
Qui ne me veit, des ans a trente,
Et ne S9ait comment je me nomine;
De tout ce Testament, en somme,
S'aucune y a difficulte,
Oster jusqu'au rez d'une pomme,
Je luy en donne faculte.
CLXI
De le gloser et commenter,
De le diffinir ou prescripre,
Diminuer ou augmenter;
De le canceller ou transcripre
De sa main, ne sceust-il escripre;
Interpreter, et donner sens,
A son plaisir, meilleur ou pire:
A tout cecy je m'y consens.
( 234 )
The Great Testament
have given him his cure of souls, but he only
cares for confessing women ( "chambrieres
et dames").
CLX
He gives Jehan de Calais, who has not
seen him for thirty years, the right to
revise this Testament. Calais was a rich
bourgeois, he had for wife a lady named
Denise, probably the same Denise whose
soul Villon damned. See verse cxv, p.
196.
CLXI
To glose and comment upon it, diminish
or augment, scratch out or transcribe, and
interpret according to his will — hinting that
Jehan is no scribe.
( 235 )
Le Grand Testament
CLXII
Et s'aucun, dont n'ay congnoissance,
Estoit alle de mort a vie,
Audict Calais donne puissance,
Affin que 1'ordre soit suyvie
Et mon ordonnance assouvie,
Que ceste aulmosne ailleurs transporte,
Sans se Tappliquer par envie:
A son ame je m'en rapporte.
CLXIII
Item, j'ordonne a Saincte-Avoye,
Et non ailleurs, ma sepulture;
Et, affin que chascun me voye,
Non pas en chair, mais en paincture,
Que Ton tire mon estature
D'ancre, s'il ne coustoit trop cher.
De tumbel? Rien: je n'en ay cure,
Car il greveroit le plancher.
CLXIV
Item, vueil qu'autour de ma fosse,
Ce que s'ensuyt, sans autre histoire,
Soit escript, en lettre assez grosse;
Et qui n'auroit point d'escriptoire,
( 236 )
The Great Testament
CLXII
The aforesaid Calais to see all gifts
properly apportioned and distributed, and
to take nothing for himself.
CLXIII
He orders that his body shall be buried
at Sainte-Avoye (the convent of the Filles
Sainte-Avoye; the chapel of this convent had
no graveyard) and that his monument be a
picture done in ink. He wants no tomb of
stone, it would break the floor down. The
chapel of the Filles Sainte-Avoye was situ-
ated on the second floor of the building.
CLXIV
Item. Let there be written over his
grave, in large letters, in charcoal —
( 237 )
L,e Grand Testament
De charbon soit, ou pierre noire,
Sans en rien entamer le piastre
(Au moins sera de moy memoire,
Telle qu'il est <Tung bon folastre) :
Epitaphe
CY GIST ET DORT, EN CE SOLLIER,
QU'AMOUR OCCIST DE SON RAILLON,
UNG POVRE PETIT ESCOLLIER,
QUI FUT NOMME FRAN£OIS VlLLON,
ONCQUES DE TERRE N'EUT SILLON.
IL DONNA TOUT, CHASCUN LE SCET:
TABLE, TRETTEAU ET CORBILLON.
POUR DlEU, DICTES-EN CE VERSET.
CLXV
Item, je vueil qu'on sonne en branle
Le gros beff roy, qui n'est de verre,
Combien que cueur n'est qui ne tremble
Quand de sonner est a son erre.
Sonne a mainte belle guerre,
Le temps passe, chascun le scet:
Fussent gens d'arnies ou tonnerre,
Au son de luy tout mal cessoit.
( 238 )
The Great Testament
taking care not to break the plaster — the
following.
Here follow epitaph and rondel. See pp. 54, 55.
CLXV
Item. He orders that they toll for him
"le gros beffroy" (the biggest bell of Notre-
Dame, only sounded on the death of kings
and other great occasions). This great bell
was given to Notre Dame by Jean de Mon-
taigue in the year 1400.
( 239 )
Le Grand Testament
CLXVI
Les sonneurs auront quatre miches,
Et, se c'est peu, demy-douzaine,
Autant qu'en donnent les plus riches:
Mais ell'seront de sainct Estienne.
Vollant est homme de grant paine:
L'ung en sera. Quand j'y regarde,
II en vivra une sepmaine.
Et 1'autre? Au fort, Jehan de la Garde,
CLXVII
Pour tout ce f ournir et parf aire,
J'ordonne mes executeurs,
Auxquelz f aict bon avoir affaire,
Et contentent bien leurs debteurs.
Ilz ne sont pas trop grans venteurs,
Et ont bien de quoy, Dieu mercys!
De ce faict seront directeurs. . .
Escrys: je t'en nommeray six.
CLXVIII
C'est maistre Martin Bellefaye,
Lieutenant du cas criminel.
Qui sera Tautre? J'ypensoye:
Ce sera sire Colombel.
( 240 )
The Great Testament
CLXVI
He orders four loaves to be given to the
ringers ; or, if that is too little, half a dozen.
Let Vollant and Jehan de la Garde share in
this. (The number of loaves distributed
was according to the wealth of deceased.)
CLXVII
He now proceeds to give the names of
his executors, all honest men. They are six
in number.
CLXVIII
They are: First, Maistre Martin Belle-
( 241 )
Le Grand Testament
S'il luy plaist, et il luy est bel,
II entreprendra ceste charge.
Et 1'autre? Michel Jouvenel.
Ces trois seulz, et pour tout, j'en charge.
CLXIX
Mais, au cas qu'ilz s'en excusassent,
En redoubtant les premiers f rais,
Ou totalement recussasent,
Ceulx qui s'ensuivent cy-apres
J'institue, gens de bien tres:
Philippe Brun, noble escuyer,
Et Fautre, son voysin d'empres,
Cy est maistre Jaques Raguyer.
CLXX
Et Faultre, maistre Jaques James:
Trois hommes de bien et d'honneur,
Desirans de saulver leurs ames,
Et craignans Dieu Nostre Seigneur,
Car plus tost y metront du leur
Que ceste ordonnance ne baillent.
Point n'auront de contrerooleur,
Mais a leur seul plaisir en taillent.
( 242 )
The Great Testament
faye, Lieutenant du cas criminel; next, sire
Colombel; thirdly, Michel Jouvenel. Belle-
f aye became councillor of the Parliament of
Paris; he died in 1502. Guillaume Colom-
bel became councillor of the king; he died in
1475. Michel Jouvenel, bailly of Troyes,
died in 1470.
CLXIX
In case these fail, he names Philippe
Brun and Maistre Jaques Raguyer. Phi-
lippe Brun, or Bruneau, was the son of
Etienne Bruneau. Raguyer was a haunter
of the Pomme de Pin, a great drinker, be-
came Bishop of Troyes, and died in 1518.
CLXX
And, for a third, Maistre Jaques James.
Three men of honour are these; so honest
are they that Villon gives them free rein
without control over his affairs. (Perhaps
the most damning testimonial ever received
by three men.)
( 243 )
Le Grand Testament
CLXXI
Des testamens, qu'en dit le Maistre?
De mon faict n'aura quid ne quod;
Mais ce sera ung jeune prebstre,
Qui se nomme Colas Tacot.
Voulentiers beusse a son escot,
Et qu'il me coustast ma cornette!
S'il sceust jouer en ung trippot,
II eust de moy le Trou Perrette.
CLXXII
Quant au regard du luminaire,
Guillaume du Ru j'y commetz:
Pour porter les coings du suaire,
Aux executeurs le remetz.
Trop plus mal me font qu'oncques mais
Penil, cheveulx, barbe, sourcilz.
Mal me presse; est temps desormais
Que crie a toutes gens merciz.
( 244 )
The Great Testament
CLXXI
He leaves nothing to the Maistre des
Testaments; let Colas Tacot (a young
priest) have the fee. The end of this verse
is obscure.
CLXXII
Let Guillaume du Ru see to the lighting
of the chapel. Let his executors choose the
pall-bearers.
And now, being in great pain. "Penil"
hair, beard, and eyebrows, the time has come
to cry to all men mercy:
"Que crie a toutes gens merciz."
( 245 )
APPENDIX
UEpiiaphe en forme de ballade
Que feit Villon pour luy et ses compagnons, s'atten-
dant estre pendu avec eulx.
F RE RES humains, qui apres nous vivez,
N'ayez les cueurs centre nous endurcis,
Car, se pitie de nous povres avez,
Dieu en aura plus tost de vous merciz.
Vous nous voyez cy attachez cinq, six.
Quant de la chair, que trop avons nourrie,
Elle est pie9a devoree et pourrie,
Et nous, les os, devenons cendre et pouldre.
De nostre mal personne ne s'en rie,
Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.
Se vous clamons, freres, pas n'en devez
Avoir desdaing, quoyque fusmes occis
Par justice. Toutesfois, vous S£avez
Que tous les hommes n'ont pas bon sens assis;
Intercedez doncques, de cueur rassis,
Envers le Filz de la Vierge Marie,
Que sa grace ne soit pour nous tarie,
Nous preservant de 1'infernale fouldre.
Nous sommes morts, ame ne nous harie;
Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.
( 247 )
L'EpitapAe en forme de ballade
La pluye nous a debuez et lavez,
Et le soleil dessechez et noircis;
Pies, corbeaulx, nous ont les yeux cavez,
Et arrachez la barbe et les sourcilz.
Jamais, nul temps, nous ne sommes assis;
Puis 93, puis la, comme le vent varie,
A son plaisir, sans cesser, nous charie,
Plus becquetez d'oyseaulx que dez a couldre.
Ne soyez done de nostre confrairie,
Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.
ENVOI
Prince JESUS, qui sur tous seigneurie,
Garde qu'Enfer n'ayt de nous la maistrie:
A luy n'ayons que faire ne que souldre.
Hommes, icy, n'usez de mocquerie,
Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.
( 248 )
Ballade des dames du temps
jadis
DICTES-MOY ou n'en quel pays,
Est Flora, la belle Romaine?
Archipiade, ne Thai's,
Qui flit sa cousine germaine?
Echo, parlant quand bruyt on maine
Dessus riviere ou sus estan,
Qui beaulte eut trop plus qu'humaine ? . . .
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan!
Oii est la tres-sage Helo'is,
Pour qui fut chastre et puis moyne
Pierre Esbaillart, a Sainct-Denys ?
Pour son amour eut cest essoyne.
Semblablement, ou est la Royne
Qui commanda que Buridan
Fust j ette en ung sac en Seine ? . . .
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan!
La royne Blanche comme ung lys,
Qui chantoit a voix de seraine,
Berthe au grand pied, Beatrix, Allys,
Haremburges, qui tint le Mayne,
( 249 )
Ballade
Et Jehanne, la bonne Lorraine,
Qu'Anglois bruslerent a Rouen:
Ou sont-ilz, Vierge souveraine?
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan!
ENVOI
Prince, n'enquerez, de sepmaine,
Ou elles sont, ne de cest an,
Car ce refrain le vous remaine
Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan!
( 250 )
Ballade des seigneurs du temps
jadis, suyvant le propos pre-
cedent
QUOI plus! Oii est le tiers Calixte,
Dernier decede de ce nom,
Qui quatre ans tint le Papaliste?
Alphonse, le roy d'Aragon,
Le gracieux due de Bourbon,
Et Artus, le due de Bretaigne,
Et Charles septiesme, le Bon ? . . .
Mais ou est le preux Charlemaigne !
Semblablement, le roy Scotiste,
Qui demy-face eut, ce dit-on,
Vermeille comme une amathiste
Depuis le front jusqu'au menton?
Le Roy de Chypre, de renom,
Helas ! et le bon Roy d'Espaigne,
Duquel je ne S9ay pas le nom? . . .
Mais ou est le preux Charlemaigne!
D'en plus parler je me desiste:
Ce n'est que toute abusion.
II n'est qui contre mort resiste,
Ne qui treuve provision.
( 251 )
Ballade
Encor fais une question:
Lancelot, le roy de Behaigne,
Ou est-il ? Ou est son tayon ? . . .
Mais ou est le preux Charlemaigne !
ENVOI
Ou est Claquin, le bon Breton?
Oii le comte Daulphin d'Auvergne,
Et le bon feu due d'Alen£on ? . . .
Mais ou est le preux Charlemaigne!
( 252 )
Ballade a ce propos, en vieil
fran^ois
MAIS ou sont ly sainctz Apostoles,
D'aulbes vestuz, d'amicts coeffez,
Qui sont ceincts de sainctes estoles,
Dont par le col prent ly mauffez,
De maltalent tout eschauffez?
Aussi bien meurt filz que servans,
De ceste vie sont bouffez:
Autant en emporte ly vens.
Voire, ou soit de Constantinobles
L'Emperier aux poings dorez,
Ou de France ly Roy tres-nobles,
Sur tous autres roys decorez,
Qui, pour ly grant Dieux adorez,
Bastist eglises et convens?
S'en son temps il fut honorez,
Autant en emporte ly vens.
Ou sont de Vienne et de Grenobles
Ly Daulphin, ly preux, ly senez?
Ou de Dijon, Sallins et Dolles,
Ly sires et ly filz aisnez ?
( 253 )
Ballade
Ou (autant de leurs gens prenez)
Heraulx, trompettes, poursuyvans?
Ont-ils bien boute soubz le nez ? . . .
Autant en emporte ly vens.
ENVOI
Princes a mort sont destinez,
Comme les plus povres vivans:
S'ils en sont courcez ou tennez,
Autant en emporte ly vens.
( 254 )
Les Regrets de la belle heaul-
miere
Ja Parvenue a
AD VIS m'est que j'oy regretter
La belle qui fut heaulmiere,
Soy jeune fille souhaitter
Et parler en ceste maniere:
"Ha! viellesse felonne et fiere,
Pourquoy m'as si tost abatue?
Qui me tient que je ne me fiere,
Et qu'a ce coup je ne me tue?
"Tollu m'as ma haulte franchise,
Que beaulte m'avoit ordonne
Sur clercz, marchans et gens d'Eglise
Car alors n'estoit homme ne
Qui tout le sien ne m'eust donne,
Quoy qu'il en fust des repentailles,
Mais que luy eusse abandonne
Ce que reffusent truandailles.
"A maint homme 1'ay reffuse
(Qui n'estoit a moy grand saigesse),
Pour Tamour d'ung garson ruse,
A qui je en faisoie largesse.
( 255 )
Les Regrets
A qui que je feisse finesse,
Par m'ame, je 1'amoye bien!
Or ne me faisoit que rudesse,
Et ne m'amoit que pour le mien.
"Si ne me sceut tant detrayner,
Fouller aux piedz, que ne 1'aymasse,
Et m'eust-il faict les rains trayner,
S'il m'eust diet que je le baisasse
Et que tous mes maux oubliasse,
Le glouton, de mal entache,
M'embrassoit . . . J'en suis bien plus grasse!
Que m'en reste-t-il? Honte et peche.
"Or il est mort, passe vingt ans,
Et je remains vielle chenue.
Quand je pense, las! au bon temps,
Quelle fus, quelle devenue,
Quand me regarde toute nue,
Et je me voy si treschangee,
Povre, seiche, maigre, menue,
Je suis presque toute enragee.
"Qu'est devenu ce front poly,
Ces cheveulx blonds, sourcilz voultyz,
Grande entr'oeil, et regard joly,
Dont prenoye les plus subtilz,
Ce beau nez droit, grant ne petiz,
Ces petites joinctes oreilles,
Menton fourchu, cler vis traictis,
Et ces belles levres vermeilles?
( 256 )
Les Regrets
"Ces gentes espaules menues,
Ces bras longs et ces mains traictisses,
Petis tetins, hanches charnues,
Eslevees, propres, faictisses
A tenir amoureuses lysses,
Ces larges reins, ce sadinet,
Assis sur grosses fermes cuysses,
Dedans son joly jardinet?
"Le front ride, les cheveulx gris,
Les sourcilz cheuz, les yeulx estains,
Qui faisoient regars et ris,
Dont maintz marchans furent attains,
Nez courbe, de beaulte loingtains,
Oreilles pendans et moussues,
Le vis pally, mort et destains,
Menton fonce, joues peaussues:
"C'est d'humaine beaulte 1'yssues !
Les bras courts et les mains contraictes,
Les espaulles toutes bossues,
Mammelles, quoy! toutes retraictes,
Telles les hanches que les tettes.
Du sadinet, fy! Quand des cuysses,
Cuysses ne sont plus, mais cuyssettes
Grivelees comme saulcisses.
"Ainsi le bon temps regretons
Entre nous, pauvres vielles sottes,
Assises bas, a croppetons,
Tout en ung tas comme pelottes,
A petit feu de chenevottes,
Tost allumees, tost estainctes.
Et jadis fusmes si mignottes ! . . .
Ainsi emprend a maintz et maintes."
( 257 )
Ballade de la belle heaulmiere
aux filles de joie
«/^\R y pensez, belle Gantiere,
^-^ Qui m'escoliere souliez estre,
Et vous, Blanche la Savetiere,
Or est-il temps de vous congnoistre!
Prenez a dextre et a senestre,
N'espargnez homme, je vous prie:
Car vielles n'ont ne cours, ne estre,
Ne que monnoye qu'on descrie.
"Et vous, la gente Saulcissiere,
Qui de dancer estes adextre,
Guillemette la Tapissiere,
Ne mesprenez vers vostre maistre:
Tost vous fauldra clorre fenestre,
Quand deviendrez vielle, flestrie.
Plus ne servirez que vielle prebstre,
Ne que monnoye qu'on descrie.
"Jehanneton la Chaperonniere,
Gardez qu'amy ne vous empestre.
Katherine I'Esperonniere,,
N 'envoy ez plus les hommes paistre.
( 258 )
Ballade
Car qui belle n'est ne perpetre
Leur bonne grace, mais leur rie.
Laide viellesse amour n'impetre,
Ne que monnoye qu'on descrie.
ENVOI
"Filles, veuillez vous entremettre
D'escouter pourquoy pleure et crie:
C'est pour ce que ne me puys mettre,
Ne que monnoye qu'on descrie."
( 259 )
Double ballade sur le mesme
propos
T)OUR ce, aymez tant que vouldrez,
-t Suyvez assemblees et festes:
En fin ja mieulx vous n'en vauldrez,
Si n'y romprez, fors que vos testes.
Folles amours font les gens bestes:
Salomon en idolatrya,
Samson en perdit ses lunettes. . .
Bien heureux est qui rien n'y a!
Orpheus, le doulx menestrier,
Jouant de fleustes et musettes,
En fut en dangler du meurtrier
Chien Cerberus a quatre testes,
Et Narcissus, beau filz honnestes,
En ung profond puys se noya,
Pour 1'amour de ses amourettes. . .
Bien heureux est qui rien n'y a!
Sardana, le preux chevalier,
Qui conquist le regne de Cretes,
En voulut devenir moulier
Et filer entre pucellettes;
( 260 )
Double ballade
David le roy, saige prophetes,
Craincte de Dieu en oublya,
Voyant laver cuisses bien f aictes. . .
Bien heureux est qui rien n'y a!
Ammon en voult deshonnorer,
Feignant de manger tartelettes,
Sa sceur Thamar et deflorer,
Qui fut inceste et deshonnestes ;
Herodes (pas ne sont sornettes)
Sainct Jean Baptiste en decolla,
Pour dances, saultz et chansonnettes.
Bien heureux est qui rien n'y a!
De moy, povre, je vueil parler:
J'en fuz batu, comme a ru telles,
Tout nud, ja ne le quiers celer.
Qui me f eit mascher ces groiselles,
Fors Katherine de Vauselles?
Noe le tiers ot, qui fut la,
Mitaines a ces nopces telles. . .
Bien heureux est qui rien n'y a!
Mais que ce jeune bachelier
Laissast ces jeunes bachelettes,
Non! et, le deust-on vif brusler,
Comme ung chevaucheur d'escovettes.
Plus doulces luy sont que civettes.
Mais toutesfoys fol s'y fia:
Soient blanches, soient brunettes,
Bien heureux est qui rien n'y a!
( 261 )
Double ballade
LXXI
MORTZ estoient, et corps et ames,
En damnee perdition,
Corps pourriz, et ames en flammes,
De quelconque condition.
Toutesfoys, fais exception
Des patriarches et prophetes:
Car, selon ma conception,
Oncques n'eurent grand chault aux fesses.
LXXII
Qui me diroit: "Qui te faict mectre
Si tres-avant ceste parolle,
Qui n'es en theologie maistre?
A toy est presumption folle."
— C'est de JESUS la parabolic,
Touchant le Riche ensevely
En feu, non pas en couche molle,
Et du Ladre de dessus ly.
LXXIII
Se du Ladre eust veu le doigt ardre,
Ja n'en eust requis refrigere,
N'au bout d'icelluy doigt aherdre,
Pour refreschir sa maschouere.
Pions y feront mate chere,
Qui boyvent pourpoinct et chemise.
Puisque boyture y est si chere,
Dieu nous garde de la main raise!
( 262 )
Double ballade
LXXIV
Ou nom de Dieu, comme j'ay diet,
Et de sa glorieuse Mere,
Sans peche soit parfaict ce diet,
Par moy, plus maigre que chimere.
Si je n'ay eu fievre ou fumere,
Ce m'a faict divine clemence,
Mais d'autre mal et perte amere
Je me tays, et ainsi commence:
( 263 )
Ballade que feit Villon a la Re-
queste de sa Mtre, pour prier
Nostre-Dame
DAME du ciel, regente terrienne,
Emperiere des infernaulx paluz,
Recevez-moy vostre humble chrestierme:
Que comprinse soye entre vos esleuz,
Ce non obstant qu'oncques rien ne valuz.
Les biens de vous, ma dame et ma maistresse,
Sont trop plus grans que ne suis pecheresse,
Sans lesquelz biens ame ne peult merir
N'avoir les cieulx. Je n'en suis menteresse:
En ceste foy je vueil vivre et mourir.
A vostre Filz dictes que je suis sienne:
De luy soyent mes pechez aboluz.
Pardonnez-moy, comme a 1'Egyptienne,
Ou comme il feit au cler Theophilus,
Lequel par vous fut quitte et absoluz,
Combien qu'il eust au diable faict promesse.
Preservez-moy que je n'accomplisse ce!
Vierge, portant, sans rompure encourir,
Le sacrement qu'on celebre a la messe. . .
En ceste foy j e vueil vivre et mourir.
( 264 )
Ballade
Femme je suis povrette et ancienne,
Qui riens ne S9ay, oncques lettre ne leuz;
Au monstier voy dont suis parroissienne,
Paradis painct, ou sont harpes et luz,
Et ung enfer oil damnez sont boulluz;
L'ung me faict paour, Fautre joye et liesse.
La joye avoir fais-moy, haulte Deesse,
A qui pecheurs doivent tous recourir,
Comblez de foy, sans faincte ne paresse. . .
En ceste foy e vueil vivre et mourir.
ENVOI
Vous portastes, Vierge, digne princesse,
JESUS regnant, qui n'a ne fin ne cesse.
Le Tout-Puissant, prenant nostre foiblesse,
Laissa les cieulx et nous vint secourir,
OfFrist a mort sa tres-chere jeunesse.
Nostre Seigneur est tel, j e le conf esse. . c
En ceste foy je vueil vivre et mourir.
( 265 )
Ballade de Villon a s'amye
FAULSE beaulte, qui tant me couste cher,
Rude en effect, hypocrite doulceur,
Amour dure plus que fer a mascher:
Nommer te puis de ma deffa9on sceur.
Cherme felon, la mort d'ung povre cueur,
Orgueil musse, qui gens met au mourir,
Yeulx sans pitie! Ne veult droict de rigueur,
Sans empirer, ung povre secourir?
Mieulx m'eust valu avoir este crier
Ailleurs secours, c'eust este mon bonheur:
Rien ne m'eust sceu de ce fait arracher.
Trotter m'en fault en fuyte a deshonneur.
Haro, haro, le grant et le mineur!
Et qu'est cecy? Mourray sans coup ferir,
Ou pitie peult, selon ceste teneur,
Sans empirer, ung povre secourir.
Ung temps viendra, qui fera desseicher,
Jaulnir, flestrir, vostre espanie fleur:
J en risse lors, s'enfant peusse marcher,
Mais las ! nenny. Ce seroit done foleur.
( 266 )
Ballade de Villon a s'amye
Vieil je seray; vous, laide et sans couleur.
Or, beuvez fort, tant que ru peult courir.
Ne donnez pas a tous ceste douleur,
Sans empirer, ung povre secourir.
ENVOI
Prince amour eux, des amans le greigneur,
Vostre mal gre ne vouldroye encourir,
Mais tout franc cueur doit, pour Nostre Seigneur,
Sans empirer, ung povre secourir.
( 267 )
Lay, ou plustost rondeau
MORT, j'appelle de ta rigueur,
Qui as ma maistresse ravie,
Et n'es pas encore assouvie
Se tu ne me tiens en langueur.
One puis n'euz force ne vigueur!
Mais que te nuy soit-elle en vie,
Mort?
Deux estions, et n'avions qu'ung cueur!
S'il est mort, force est que devie,
Voire, ou que je vive sans vie,
Comme les images, par cueur,
Mort!
( 268 )
Ballade et Oraison
PERE Noe, qui plantastes la vigne,
Vous aussi, Loth, qui busies au rocher,
Par tel party, qu' Amour, qui gens engigne,
De vos filles si vous felt approcher
(Pas ne le dy pour le vous reprocher),
Architriclin, qui bien sceustes cest art:
Tous trois vous pry que vous vueillez percher
L'ame du bon feu maistre Jehan Cotart !
II fut jadis extraict de vostre ligne,
Luy qui beuvoit du meilleur et plus cher,
Et ne deust-il avoir vaillant ung pigne,
Certes, sur tous, c'estoit un bon archer.
On ne luy sceut pot des mains arracher,
Car de bien boire oncques ne fut faitart.
Nobles seigneurs, ne souffrez empescher
L'ame du bon feu maistre Jehan Cotart!
Comme homme beu qui chancelle et trepigne,
L'ay veu souvent, quand il s'alloit coucher,
Et une foys il se feit une bigne,
Bien m'en souvient, a Festal d'ung boucher.
( 269 )
Ballade et Oraison
Brief, on n'eust sceu en ce monde chercher
Meilleur pion, pour boire tost et tart.
Faictes entrer, quant vous orrez hucher,
L'ame du bon feu maistre Jehan Cotart.
ENVOI
Prince, il n'eust sceu jusqu'a terre cracher.
Tous jours crioit: Haro, la gorge m'ard!
Et si ne sceut oncq sa soif estancher,
L'ame du bon feu maistre Jehan Cotart,
( 270 )
Ballade que Villon donna a ung
gentilhomme nouvellement
marie^ pour r envoy er a son
espouse^ par luy conquise a
I'espee
AU poinct du jour, que 1'esparvier se bat,
Meu de plaisir, et par noble coustume,
Bruyt il demaine et de joye s'esbat,
Re9oit son past et se joint a la plume:
Offrir vous vueil (a ce desir m'allume)
Joyeusement ce qu'aux amans bon semble,
Si qu'Averroys 1'escript en son volume,
Et c'est la fin pourquoy sommes ensemble.
Dame serez de mon cueur, sans debat,
Entierement, jusques mort me consume,
Laurier soiief qui pour mon droit combat,
Olivier franc m'ostant toute amertume.
Raison ne veult que je desacoutume
(Et en ce vueil avec elle m'assemble)
De vous servir, mais que m'y accoustume,
Et c'est la fin pourquoy sommes ensemble.
( 271 )
Ballade
Et qui plus est, quant dueil sur moy s'embat,
Par fortune qui souvent si se fume,
Vostre doulx ceil sa malice rebat,
Ne plus ne moins que le vent f aict la fume.
Si ne perds pas le graine que je sume
En vostre champ, car le fruict me ressemble:
Dieu m'ordonne que le harse et fume,
Et c'est la fin pourquoy sommes ensemble.
ENVOI
Princesse, oyez ce que cy vous resume:
Que le mien cueur du vostre desassemble,
Ja ne sera, tant de vous en presume,
Et c'est la fin pourquoy sommes ensemble.
( 272 )
Ballade
EN reagal, en arsenic rocher,
En orpigment, en salpestre et chaulx vive;
En plomb boillant, pour mieulx les esmorcher;
En suif et poix, destrampez de lessive
Faicte d'estrons et de pissat de Juifve;
En lavaille de jambes a meseaulx;
En raclure de piedz et vieulx houseaulx;
En sang d'aspic et drogues venimeuses;
En fiels de loups, de regnards et blereaux,
Solent frittes ces langues envieuses!
En cervelle de chat qui hayt pescher,
Noir, et si vieil qu'il n'ait dent et gencive;
D'ung vieil mastin, qui vault bien aussi cher,
Tout enrage, en sa bave et salive;
En Tescume d'une mulle poussive,
Detrenchee menu a bons ciseaulx;
En eau oil ratz plongent groings et museaulx,
Raines, crapauds et bestes dangereuses,
Serpens, lezards et telz nobles oyseaulx,
Soient frittes ces langues envieuses!
En sublime, dangereux a toucher,
Et au nombril d'une couleuvre vive;
En sang qu'on veoit es pallectes secher,
Chez ces barbiers, quand plaine lune arrive,
Dont Tung est noir, 1'autre plus vert que cive;
( 273 )
Ballade
En chancre et ficz, et en ces ords cuveaulx
Oii nourrices essangent leurs drappeaulx;
En petits baings de filles amoureuses
(Qui ne m'entend n'a suivy les bordeaulx),
Soient frittes ces langues envieuses!
ENVOI
Prince, passez tous ces friands morceaulx,
S'estamine n'avez, sacs ou bluteaux,
Parmy le fons d'une brayes breneuses.
Mais, paravant, en estrons de pourceaulx,
Soient frittes ces langues envieuses!
( 274 )
Ballade intitulte, "Les Contre-
dictx de Franc-Gontier"
SUR mol duvet assis, ung gras chanoine,
Lez ung brasier, en chambre bien nattee,
A son coste gisant dame Sydoine,
Blanche, tendre, pollie et attainted
Boire ypocras, a jour et a nuyctee,
Rire, jouer, mignoter et baiser,
Et nud a nud, pour mieulx des corps ayser,
Les vy tous deux, par un trou de mortaise.
Lors je congneuz que, pour dueil appaiser,
II n'est tresor que de vivre a son aise.
Se Franc-Gontier et sa compaigne Helaine
Eussent tousjours cest' douce vie hantee,
D'oignons, civotz, qui causent forte alaine,
N'en mangeassent bise croute frottee.
Tout leur mathon, ne toute leur potee,
Ne prise ung ail, je le dy sans noysier.
S'ilz se vantent coucher soubz le rosier,
Ne vault pas mieulx lict costoye de chaise?
Qu'en dictes-vous? Faut-il a ce muser?
II n'est tresor que de vivre a son aise.
( 275 )
Ballade
De gros pain bis vivent, d'orge, d'avoine,
Et boivent eau toute le long de 1'annee.
Tous les oyseaulx, d'icy en Babyloine,
A tel escot, une seule journee,
Ne me tiendroient, non une matinee.
Or s'esbate, de par Dieu, Franc-Gontier,
Helaine o hiy, soubz le bel esglantier:
Se bien leur est, n'ay cause qu'il me poise.
Mais, quoy qu'il soit du laboureux mestier,
II n'est tresor que de vivre a son aise.
ENVOI
Prince, jugez, pour tous nous accorder.
Quant est a moy, mais qu'a nul n'en desplaise,
Petit enfant, j'ay ouy recorder
Qu'il n'est tresor que de vivre a son aise.
( 276 )
Ballade des femmes de Paris
QUOY qu'on tient belles langagieres
Florentines, Veniciennes,
Assez pour estre messaigieres,
Et mesmement les anciennes;
Mais, soient Lombardes, Rommaines,
Genevoyses, a mes perilz,
Piemontoises, Savoysiennes,
II n'est bon bee que de Paris.
De beau parler tiennent chayeres,
Ce dit-on, Neapolitaines,
Et que sont bonnes caquetieres
Allemandes et Prussiennes;
Soient Grecques, Egyptiennes,
De Hongrie ou d'autre pays,
Espaignolles ou Castellennes,
II n'est bon bee que de Paris.
Brettes, Suysses, n'y s^avent gueres,
Ne Gasconnes et Thoulouzaines ;
Du Petit-Pont deux harangeres
Les concluront, et les Lorraines,
( 277 )
Ballade des femmes de Paris
Angloises ou Calaisiennes
(Ay-je beaucoup de lieux compris?),
Picardes, de Valenciennes. . .
II n'est bon bee que de Paris.
ENVOI
Prince, aux dames Parisiennes,
De bien parler donnez le prix.
Quoy qu'on die d'ltaliennes,
II n'est bon bee que de Paris.
( 278 )
Ballade de Villon et de la Grosse
Margot
SE j'ayme et sers la belle, de bon haict,
M'en devez-vous tenir ne vil ne sot?
Elle a en soy des biens a fin souhaict.
Pour son amour, ceings bouclier et passot.
Quand viennent gens, je cours, et happe un pot:
Au vin m'en voys, sans demener grant bruyt.
Je leur tendz eau, frommage, pain et fruict.
S'ils payent bien, je leur dy: "Que bien stail
Retournez cy, Quand vous serez en ruyt,
En ce bourdeau, ou tenons nostre estat"!
Mais, tost apres, il y a grant deshait,
Quand sans argent s'en vient coucher Margot:
Veoir ne la puis, mon cueur a mort la hait.
Sa robe prens, demy-ceinct et surcot:
Si luy prometz qu'ilz tiendront pour 1'escot.
Par les costez ze prend, cest Antechrist;
Crie et jure, par la mort Jesuchrist,
Que non sera. Lors j'empongne ung esclat,
Dessus le nez luy en fais ung escript,
En ce bourdeau, ou tenons nostre estat.
( 279 )
Ballade
Puis, paix se faict, et me lasche ung gros pet,
Plus enflee qu'ung venimeux scarbot;
Riant, m'assiet son poing sur mon sommet,
Gogo me dit, et me fiert le jambot.
Tous deux yvres, dormons comme ung sabot,
Et, au reveil, quand le ventre luy bruyt,
Monte sur moy, que ne gaste son fruict.
Soubz elle geins, plus qu'ung aiz me faict plat,
De paillarder tout elle me destruict,
En ce bourdeau, ou tenons nostre estat.
ENVOI
Vente, gresle, gelle, j'ay mon pain cuict!
Je suis paillard, la paillarde me duit.
Lequel vault mieux? Chascun bien s'entresuit,
L'ung 1'autre vault: c'est a mau chat mau rat.
Ordure amons, ordure nous affuyt;
Nous deffuyons honneur, il nous deffuyt,
En ce bourdeau, ou tenons nostre estat.
( 280 )
Belle Lecon de Villon aux enfans
perdue
BEAULX enfans, vous perdez la plus
Belle rose de vo chapeau,
Mes clercs apprenans comme gluz.
Si vous allez a Montpippeau
Ou a Ruel, gardez la peau:
Car, pour s'esbatre en ces deux lieux,
Cuydant que vaulsist le rappeau,
La perdit Colin de Cayeulx.
Ce n'est pas ung jeu de trois mailles,
Oii va corps, et peut-estre Tame:
S'on perd, rien n'y vault repentailles,
Qu'on ne meure a honte et diffame;
Et qui gaigne n'a pas a femme
Dido la royne de Carthage.
L'homme est done bien fol et infame
Qui pour si peu couche tel gage.
Qu'ung chascun encore m'escoute:
On dit, et il est verite,
Que charreterie se boyt toute,
Au feu l'hyver, au bois 1'este.
S'argent avez, il n'est ente,
Mais le despendez tost et viste.
Qui en voyez-vous herite?
Jamais mal acquest ne proufite.
( 281 )
Ballade de bonne doctrine
A Ceux de mauvaise vie
CAR or' soyes porteur de bulles,
Pipeur ou hazardeur de dez,
Tailleur de faulx coings, tu te brusles,
Comme ceux qui sont eschaudez;
Traistres pervers, de foy vuydez,
Soyes larron, ravis ou pilles:
Ou en va 1'acquest, que cuydez?
Tout aux tavernes et aux filles.
Ryme, raille, cymballe, luttes,
Comme folz, faintis, eshontez;
Farce, broille, joue des flustes;
Fais, es villes et es citez,
Fainctes, jeux et moralitez;
Gaigne au berlan, au glic, aux quilles:
Oii s'en va tout? Or escoutez:
Tout aux tavernes et aux filles.
De telz ordures te reculles;
Laboure, fauche champs et prez;
Sers et panse chevaulx et mulles,
S'aucunement tu n'es lettrez;
( 282 )
Ballade de bonne doctrine
Assez auras, se prens en grez.
Mais, se chanvre broyes ou tilles,
Ou tendront labours qu'as ouvrez?
Tout aux tavernes et aux filles.
ENVOI
Chausses, pourpoinctz esguilletez,
Robes, et toutes vos drapilles,
Ains que soient usez, vous portez
Tout aux tavernes et aux filles.
( 283 )
Lays
AU retour de dure prison
Oii j 'ay laisse presque la vie,
Se Fortune a sur moy envie,
Jugez s'elle fait mesprison!
II me semble que, par raison,
Elle deust bien estre assouvie,
Au retour.
Cecy plain est de desraison,
Qui vueille que du tout desvie.
Plaise a Dieu que Tame ravie
En soit, lassus, en sa maison,
Au retour!
( 284 )
CY GIST ET DORT, EN CE SOLLIER,
QU'AMOUR OCCIST DE SON RAILLON,
UNG POVRE PETIT ESCOLLIER,
Qui FUT NOMME FRAN£OIS VlLLON.
ONCQUES DE TERRE N'EUT SILLON.
IL DONNA TOUT, CHASCUN LE SCETI
TABLE, TRETTEAUX ET CORBILLON.
POUR DlEU, DICTES-EN CE VERSET.
( 285 )
Rondel
REPOS eternel donne a cil,
Sire, clarte perpetuelle,
Qui vaillant plat ny escuelle
N'eut oncques, n'ung brin de percil.
II flit rez, chef, barbe, sourcil,
Comme ung navet qu'on ret et pelle.
Repos !
Rigueur le transmit en exil,
Et luy frappa au cul la pelle,
Nonobstant qu'il dist: J'en appelle!
Qui n'est pas terme trop subtil.
Repos !
( 286 )
Ballade pour laquelle Villon crye
mercy a chascun
A CHARTREUX et a Celestins,
•**• A Mendians et a devotes,
A musars et cliquepatins,
A servans et filles mignottes,
Portant surcotz et justes cottes;
A cuyderaulx, d'amours transis,
Chaussans sans meshaing f auves bottes :
Je crye a toutes gens merciz!
A filles monstrans leurs tetins
Pour avoir plus largement hostes;
A ribleux meneurs de hutins,
A basteleurs traynans marmottes,
A folz et folles, sotz et sottes,
Qui s'en vont sifflant cinq et six;
A veufves et a mariottes:
Je crye a toutes gens merciz!
Sinon aux traistres chiens mastins,
Qui m'ont fait manger dures crostes
Et boire eau maintz soirs et matins,
Qu'ores je ne crains pas trois crottes.
( 287 )
Ballade
Pour eulx je feisse petz et rottes;
Je ne puis, car je suis assis.
An fort, pour eviter riottes,
Je crye a toutes gens merciz!
ENVOI
S'on leur froissoit les quinze costes
De gros maillets, fortz et massis,
De plombee et de telz pelottes,
Je crye a toutes gens merciz!
( 288 )
Ballade pour servir de con-
clusion
ICI se clost le Testament,
Et finist, du povre Villon,
Venez a son enterrement,
Quant vous orrez le carillon,
Vestuz rouges com vermilion,
Car en amours mourut martir.
Ce jura-il sur son callon,
Quand de ce monde voult partir.
Et je croy bien que pas ne ment,
Car chassie fut, comme un soullon,
De ses amours hayneusement,
Tant que, d'icy a Roussillon,
Brosse n'y a ne brossillon
Qui n'eust, ce dit-il sans mentir,
Ung lambeau de son cotillon,
Quand de ce monde voult partir.
II est ainsi, et tellement,
Quand mourut n'avoit qu'ung haillon.
Qui plus, en mourant, mallement
L'espoingnoit ? D'amours 1'esguillon,
( 289 )
Ballade
Plus agu que le ranguillon
D'un baudrier, luy faisoit sentir
(C'est de quoy nous esmerveillon),
Quand de ce monde voult partir.
ENVOI
Prince, gent comme esmerillon,
Saichiez qu'il fist, au departir:
Ung traict but de vin morillon,
Quand de ce monde voult partir.
PIN DU GRAND TESTAMENT
( 290 )
Epistre en forme de ballade, a
ses amis
A YEZ pitie, ayez pitie de moy,
*^ A tout le moms, si vous plaist, mes amis !
En fosse giz, non pas soubz houx ne may,
En cest exil ouquel je suis transmis
Par fortune, comme Dieu 1'a permis.
Filles, amans, jeunes, vieulx et nouveaulx;
Danceurs, saulteurs, faisans les piez de veaux,
Vifs comme dars, agus comme aguillon;
Gousiers tintans, clers comme gastaveaux:
Le lesserez la, le povre Villon?
Chantres chantans a plaisance, sans loy;
Galans, rians, plaisans en faictz et diz;
Coureux, allans, francs de faulx or, d'aloy;
Gens d'esperit, ung petit estourdiz:
Trop demourez, car il meurt entandiz.
Faiseurs de laiz, de motets et rondeaux,
Quand mort sera, vous luy ferez chandeaux.
II n'entre, ou gist, n'escler ne tourbillon;
De murs espois on luy a fait bandeaux:
Le lesserez la, le povre Villon?
( 291 )
Epistre en forme de ballade
Venez le veoir en ce piteux arroy,
Nobles hommes, francs de quars et de dix,
Qui ne tenez d'empereur ne de roy,
Mais seulement de Dieu de Par'adiz:
Jeuner luy fault dimanches et mardiz,
Dont les dens a plus longues que ratteaux;
Apres pain sec, non pas apres gasteaux,
En ses boyaulx verse eau a gros bouillon;
Bas enterre, table n'a, ne tretteaux:
Le lesserez la, le povre Villon?
ENVOI
Princes nommez, anciens, jouvenceaux,
Impetrez-moy graces et royaulx sceaux,
Et me montez en quelque corbillon.
Ainsi le font Tun a 1'autre pourceaux,
Car, ou Tun brait, ilz fuyent a monceaux.
Le lesserez la, le povre Villon?
( 292 )
Rondel
BON jour, bon an, bonne semaine,
Honneur, sante, joye prochaine,
Perseverer de bien en mieulx
Et joye d'amours vous doint Dieux,
Ce jour present, en bonne estraine,
Dame belle trop plus qu'Helaine,
Tous jours d'argent la bourse plaine,
Vivre longtemps sans estre vieulx;
Bon jour, bon an, bonne semaine.
Apres ceste vie mondaine,
Avoir la joye souveraine:
De la ravis lassus es cieulx,
Ou nous nous puissions veoir joyeux
Sans jamais sentir grief ne paine;
Bon jour, bon an, bonne semaine.
( 293 )
Rondel
(294)
Rondel
E
NTENS a moy, vray dieu d 'amours,
Et faiz que la mort ait son cours
Hastivement
Car j'ay mal employ^ mes jours.
Je meurs en aymant par amours
Certainement.
Languir me fault en griefs doulours.
( 295 )
Ballade contre les mesdisans de
la France
RENCONTRE soit de bestes feu gectans
Que Jason vit, querant la Toison d'or;
Ou transmue d'homme en beste, sept ans,
Ainsi que fut Nabugodonosor ;
Ou bien ait perte aussi griefve et villaine
Que les Troyens pour la prinse d'Helaine;
Ou avalle soit avec Tantalus
Et Proserpine aux infernaulx pallus;
Ou plus que Job soit en griefve souffrance,
Tenant prison en la court Dedalus,
Qui mal vouldroit au royaume de France!
Quatre mois soit en un vivier chantant,
La teste au fons, ainsi que le butor;
Ou au Grand Turc vendue argent comptant,
Pour estre mis au harnois comme ung tor;
Ou trente ans soit, comme la Magdelaine,
Sans vestir drap de linge ne de laine;
Ou noye soit, comme fut Narcisus
Ou aux cheveiix, comme Absalon, pendus,
Ou comme fut Judas, par desperance;
Ou puist mourir comme Simon Magus,
Qui mal vouldroit au royaume de France!
( 296 )
Ballade
D'Octovien puisse venir le temps:
C'est qu'on luy coule au ventre son trcsor;
Ou qu'il soit mis entre meules rotans,
En un moulin, comme fut sainct Victor;
Ou transgloutis en la mer, sans halaine,
Pis que Jonas au corps de la balaine;
Ou soit banny de la clarte Phoebus,
Des biens Juno et du soulas Venus,
Et du grant Dieu soit mauldit a outrance,
Ainsi que fut roy Sardanapalus,
Qui mal vouldroit au royaume de France!
ENVOI
Prince, porte soit des clers Eolus,
En la forest ou domine Glocus,
Ou prive soit de paix et d'esperance,
Car digne n'est de posseder vertus,
Qui mal vouldroit au royaume de France!
( 297 )
Le Debat du Cueur et du Corps
de Villon en forme de Ballade
QU'EST-CE que j'oy?
— Ce suis-je.
— Qui?
— Ton Cueur,
Qui ne tient mais qu'a ung petit filet.
Force n'ay plus, substance ne liqueur,
Quand je te voy retraict ainsi seulet,
Com provre chien tappy en recullet.
— Pourquoy est-ce?
— Pour ta folle plaisance.
— Que t'en chault-il?
— J'en ay la desplaisance.
— Laisse m'en paix!
— Pourquoy ?
— J'y penseray.
— Quand sera-ce?
— Quand seray hors d'enfance.
— Plus ne t'en dy.
— Et je m'en passeray.
— Que penses-tu?
— Estre homme de valeur.
— Tu as trente ans.
— C'est 1'aage d'ung mulct.
( 298 )
Ballade
— Est-ce enfance?
— Nenny.
— C'est done folleur
Qui te saisit?
—Par oft?
— Par le collet.
— Rien ne congnois.
— Si fais: mouches en laict:
L'ung est blanc, 1'autre est noir, c'est la distance.
— Est-ce done tout?
— Que veulx-tu que je tance?
Si n'est assez, je recommenceray.
— Tu es perdu!
— J'y mettray resistance.
— Plus ne t'en dy.
— Et je m'en passeray.
ay le dueil; toi, le mal et douleur.
Si fusse ung povre ydiot et folet,
Au cueur eusses de t'excuser couleur:
Se n'as-tu soing, tout ung tel, bel ou laid,
Ou la teste as plus dure qu'ung jalet,
Ou mieulx te plaist qu'honneur ceste meschance.
Que repondras a ceste consequence?
— J'en seray hors, quand je trespasseray.
— Dieu! quel confort!
— Quelle saige eloquence!
— Plus ne t'en dy.
— Et je m'en passeray.
— D'ond vient ce mal?
— II vient de mon malheur.
( 299 )
Ballade
Quand Saturne me feit mon fardelet,
Ces maulx y mist, je le croy.
— C'est foleur:
Son seigneur es, et te tiens son valet.
Voy, Salomon escript en son roulet:
"Homme sage, ce dit-il, a puissance
Sur les planetes et sur leur influence."
Je n'en croy rien: tel qu'ils m'ont faict seray.
— Que dis-tu?
— Rien.
— Certes, c'est ma creance.
Plus ne t'en dy.
— Et je m'en passeray.
ENVOI
— Veux-tu vivre?
— Dieu m'en doint la puissance!
— II te fault. . .
— Quoy?
— Remors de conscience;
Lire sans fin.
— Et en quoy?
— En science.
Laisse les folz!
— Bien! j'y adviseray.
— Or le retiens?
— J'en ay bien souvenance.
N'attends pas trop, que tourne a desplaisance
Plus ne t'en dy.
— Et je m'en passeray.
BINDING SECT. JAN 2 9 1973
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