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The Testament and Other Poems
The Testament
and Other Poems
François Villon
Translated by Anthony Mortimer
A LM A CLA SSICSContents
The Testament and Other Poems 1
The Legacy3
The Testament25
Miscellaneous Poems157
Note on the Text217
Notes217
Extra Material 227
François Villon’s Life229
François Villon’s Audience231
The Legacy233
The Testament234
Alma Classics Ltd Miscellaneous Poems237
London House Villon in English239
243-253 Lower Mortlake Road
Richmond Select Bibliography 243
Surrey TW9 2LL
United Kingdom Index of Names, Places and Texts 245
www.almaclassics.com
Index of First Lines in French 263
This translation first published by Alma Classics Ltd in 2013 Index of First Lines in English 265
Acknowledgements267
Translation, Notes, Extra Material © Anthony Mortimer 2013
Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY
isbn: 978-1-84749-328-6
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or
by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or other-
wise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. This book is
sold subject to the condition that it shall not be resold, lent, hired out or
otherwise circulated without the express prior consent of the publisher.For Martin Dodsworth Bienfait ne se doit oublier
The Testament and Other Poems
The Testament (Le Testament Villon)
X – Ballade de bon conseil X – Ballade of Good Counsel
Hommes failliz, despourveuz de raison, Weak men, whose minds are empty of all reason,
Desnaturez et hors congnoissance, Devoid of knowledge and of common sense,
Desmis du sens, comblez de desraison, Unnatural, in love with your unreason,
Folz abusez, plains de descongnoissance, Ungrateful fools, puffed up with ignorance,
Qui procurez contre vostre naissance, Who work against your birth’s inheritance
Vous submettans à detestable mort And yield to hateful death that lies ahead,
Par lascheté, las ! Que ne vous remort Alas, do you not see that you are led
L’orribleté qui à honte vous maine ? By evil to a shameful end? Look there,
Voyez comment maint jeunes homs est mort How such a host of young men now are dead
Par offensser et prendre autruy demaine. For harming others and taking what’s theirs. 10
Chascun en soy voye sa mesprison ! Let each man see his fault within himself,
Ne nous vengons, prenons en pacïence : Not seek revenge, in patience bear offence:
Nous congnoissons que ce monde est prison We know this world is but a prison cell
Aux vertueux franchis d’impacïence. For virtuous unrebellious men; and hence
Battre, rouiller, pour ce n’est pas scïence, Fighting and brawls and robbery make no sense,
Tollir, ravir, piller, meurtrir à tort : Nor looting, mugging, murdering. The youth
De Dieu ne chault, trop de verté se tort Cares not for God and turns his back on truth
Qui en telz faiz sa jeunesse demaine, Who wastes his time involved in such affairs;
Dont à la fin ses poins doloureux tort, One day he’ll sit and wring his hands in ruth
Par offenser et prendre autruy demaine. For harming others and taking what’s theirs. 20
Que vault piper, flater, rire en trayson Where does it lead, to fawn and fake a laugh,
Quester, mentir, affermer sans fiance, To beg and swindle, swear what isn’t true,
Farcer, tromper, artifier poison, Lie, cheat and con, cook up some poisonous draught,
Vivre en peché, dormir en deffiance To live in sin, and toss the whole night through,
De son prouchain sans avoir confience ? Distrusting neighbours with no trust in you?
Pour ce conclus : de bien faisons effort, Thus I conclude, let’s work towards the good,
Reprenons cueur, ayons en Dieu confort. Take heart and find in God the strength we need.
Nous n’avons jour certain en la sepmaine ; In the whole week no day is sure; our heirs
De noz maulx ont noz parens le ressort, And kinsmen pay the price of our misdeeds,
Par offencer et prendre autruy demaine. For harming others and taking what’s theirs. 30
196 197Vivons en paix, exterminons discord ; Virtuous men, let’s live without discord,
Ieunes et vieulx, soyons tous d’ung accord : In peace, both young and old, of one accord –
La loy le veult, l’appostre le ramaine Law sent by God, and so St Paul declares,*
Licitement en l’espitre rommaine. Let’s heed the truth his Roman Letter bears;
Ordre nous fault, estat ou aucun port. Order we need, degree, or some support.
Nottons ces poins, ne laissons le vray port Note down these points, let’s not leave our true port
Par offensser et prendre autruy demaine. For harming others and taking what’s theirs.
198 199XI – Probleme, Ballade de fortune XI – Problem, Ballade of Fortune*
Fortune fuz par clercs jadiz nommée, Fortune they named me, scholars long ago,
Que toy, Françoys, crye et nomme murtriere, And now, François, you call me murderess –
Qui n’es homme d’aucune renommée. Yes, you, without a touch of fame to show.
Meilleur que toy faiz user en plastriere I’ve sent your betters, poor men in distress,
Par povreté, et fouyr en carriere. To sweat in lime-kilns or break stone for less.
S’à honte viz, te dois tu doncques plaindre ? You whinge and moan because you live in shame?
Tu n’es pas seul, si ne te dois complaindre. You’re not the only one, so don’t complain.
Regarde et voy, de mes faiz de jadiz, Look round and see the feats I did of old,
Mains vaillans homs par moy mors et roiddiz, The valiant men I laid out stiff and cold,
Et n’es, ce sais, envers eulx ung soullon. Compared to them you’re just a scullion. 10
Appaise toy et mect fin en tes diz : Calm down, I say, shut up for once, don’t scold:
Par mon conseil prens tout en gré, Villon ! Take my advice and take what comes, Villon!
Contre grans roys me suis bien anymée Against the greatest kings I fought to show
Le temps qui est passé ça en arriere. My power in ancient times, in days long past.
Priame occis et toute son armée : Priam I killed and all his army too,
Ne lui valut tour, donjon ne barriere. No tower or bulwark kept him safe at last.
Et Hannibal, demoura il derriere ? Could Hannibal survive? At my behest
En Cartaige par mort le feiz actaindre, Death snuffed him out in Carthage, and the same
Et Scypïon l’Affrequain feit estaindre. Fate befell African Scipio’s bright flame.
Julius Cesar au Senat je vendiz. And Caesar on the Senate floor I sold; 20
En Egipte Pompée je perdiz. In Egypt I destroyed Pompey the Bold;
En mer noyay Jazon en ung boullon, Jason was drowned – that whirlwind I brought on.
Et une foys Romme et Rommains ardiz. Once even Rome I burned: now you’ve been told –
Par mon conseil prens tout en gré, Villon ! Take my advice and take what comes, Villon!
Alixandre, qui tant fist de hemée Great Alexander shed much blood, and so
Qu’il voulut voir l’estoille poucyniere, Wanted the Pleiades next on his list;
Sa personne par moy fut envelimée. A little of my poison laid him low.
Alphasar roy, en champ, sur sa baniere King Alphasar fought, but, when I struck his crest,
Ruay jus mort. Cela est ma maniere : Fell on his flag. That’s how I like it best:
Ainsi l’ay fait, ainsi le maintendray, That’s what I do, I’ll always do the same, 30
Autre cause ne raison n’en rendray. I don’t see any reason to explain.
Holofernés l’idolastre mauldiz, When I cursed Holofernes, he was killed
200 201Qu’occist Judic — et dormoit entandiz — By Judith as he slept, a heathen felled
De son poignart dedens son pavillon. With his own sword in his pavilion;
Absallon, quoy ? En fuyant le pendis. Absalom? Hanged as he escaped the field.
Par mon conseil prens tout en gré, Villon. Take my advice and take what comes Villon!
Pour ce, Françoys, escoute que te dis : And so, François, listen to what you’re told:
Se riens peusse sans Dieu de Paradiz But for the fact that God in heaven holds
A toy n’à autre ne demourroit haillon, Me back, you wouldn’t have a rag to put on:
Car pour ung mal lors j’en feroye dix. I’d do ten wrongs for every one of old. 40
Par mon conseil prens tout en gré, Villon ! Take my advice and take what comes, Villon!
202 203XII – Ballade des pendus XII – Ballade of the Hanged Men*
Freres humains, qui après nous vivez, Men, human brothers, who live after us,
N’ayez les cueurs contre nous endurcis, Let not your hearts be hardened, for if you
Car, se pitié de nous povres avez, Can feel some pity for our wretchedness,
Dieu en aura plus tost de vous mercis. The sooner you’ll receive God’s mercy too.
Vous nous voiez cy attachez, cinq, six : You see five, six of us, strung up to view:
Quant de la chair, que trop avons nourrie, As for the flesh that once we overfed,
El est pieça devorée et pourrie, Here’s where it rots, itself devoured instead,
Et nous, les os, devenons cendre et pouldre. And we, the bones, to dust and ashes fall.
De nostre mal personne ne se rie, Let no one mock our misery or deride,
Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre. But pray to God that He forgive us all. 10
Se freres vous clamons, pas n’en devez If brothers we have called you, do not go
Avoir desdaing, quoy que fusmes occis Away indignant, for there’s no offence.
Par justice… touteffois vous sçavez Yes, we were slain by Justice… but you know
Que tous hommes n’ont pas le sens rassis. That not all men are born with your good sense.
Excusez nous, puis que sommes transis, We have no voice, being stiff and cold long since,
Envers le filz de la Vierge Marie, So intercede for us with Mary’s Son
Que sa grace ne soit pour nous tarie, That His clear fount of grace may ever run
Nous preservant de l’infernale fouldre. And thus preserve us from the flames of Hell.
Nous sommes mors, ame ne nous harie Let no one come to trouble us, dead men,
Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre. But pray to God that He forgive us all. 20
La pluye nous a debuez et lavez The rain has washed us clean and soaked us through,
Et le soleil deseichez et noircis. The sun has dried us up, blackened and seared;
Pies, corbeaulx nous ont les yeulx cavez Our eyes gouged out by crows and magpies who
Et arraché la barbe et les sourcilz. Have plucked away our eyebrows and our beards.
Jamais nul temps nous ne sommes assis : Never one moment are we still, but stirred
Puis ça, puis là, comme le vent varie, And dangled to and fro by every wind,
A son plaisir sans cesse nous charie, The birds have pecked at us until our skin
Plus becquetez d’oyseaulx que dez à coudre. Is like a housewife’s thimble, pocked with holes.
Ne soiez donc de nostre confrairie, Don’t join the confraternity we’re in,
Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre. But pray to God that He forgive us all. 30
204 205Prince Jesus, qui sur tous a maistrie Prince Jesus, lord of everything that is,
Garde qu’Enfer n’ait de nous seigneurie : Preserve us from the power of the abyss:
A luy n’ayons que faire ne que souldre. We’ve no accounts to settle down in hell.
Humains, icy n’a point de mocquerie, Men, there’s no cause for mockery in this,
Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre. But pray to God that He forgive us all,
206 207XIII – Quatrain XIII – Quatrain*
Je suis François, dont il me poise, I am François, hard name to bear,
Né de Paris emprès Pontoise, Born Paris, though Pontoise is near,
Et de la corde d’une toise And from a six-foot rope it’s here
Saura mon col que mon cul poise. My neck shall learn the weight of my rear.
208 209XIV – Louange et requête à la Cour XIV – Praise and Request of the Court*
Tous mes cinq sens, yeulx, oreilles et bouche, All my five senses, ears and mouth and eyes
Le nez et vous, le sensitif, aussi, Nose too, and you, the sense of touch, of course,
Tous mes membres, ou il y a reprouche, And every part (lest some reproach arise)
En son endroit ung chascun die ainsi : Plead on its own behalf, and speak out thus:
« Souveraine Court, par qui sommes icy, “Sovereign Court, you are the only cause
Vous nous avez gardez de desconfire ! Why we’re still here, not down among the dead.
Or la langue seule ne peut suffire Language alone is not enough to laud
A vous rendre suffisantes louenges ; And praise you for the justice you have done;
Si parlons tous, fille du souverain Sire, So speak we all, child of the Sovereign Lord,
Mere des bons et seur des benoistz anges. » Sister of angels, mother of good men.” 10
Cueur, fendés vous, ou percez d’une broche, Heart, break in two, be pierced upon a spit,
Et ne soiez au moins plus endurcy Or be no harder, at the very least,
Qu’au desert fut la forte bise roche Than was the desert’s great dark rock* that split
Dont le peuple des Juifz fut adoulcy. To quench the Jews’ fierce anger and their thirst:
Fondez lermes et venez à mercy, Weep, weep, in all humility and burst
Com humble cueur qui tendrement souspire ; With tears of sorrow and a tender sigh;
Louez la Court conjointe au saint empire, Extol the Court, one with that realm on high,
L’heur des François, le confort des estranges, The joy of France, the foreigner’s defence
Procréée lassus au ciel empire, Engendered in the empyreal sky,
Mere des bons et seur des benoistz anges. Sister of angels, mother of good men. 20
Et vous, mes dens, chascune si s’esloche, And you, my teeth, jump to it, come and tell
Saillez avant, rendez toutes mercy What thanks you offer with no more ado,
Plus haultement qu’oncques trompe ne cloche, More loudly than a trumpet or a bell;
Et de mascher n’ayés ores soussi. No need to worry whether you can chew.
Considerez que je fusse transi, Just think, I could be stiff and cold by now:
Foye, polmon, et rate qui respire ; You liver, spleen and lungs who breathe the air,
Et vous, mon corps — ou vil estes et pire And body (or you’re vile and worse by far
Qu’ours ne pourcel qui fait son nic es fanges — Than any pig slouched in its dungy den)
Louez la Court, devant qu’il vous empire, All praise the Court lest foul should follow fair,
Mere des bons et seur des benoistz anges. Sister of angels, mother of good men. 30
210 211Prince, trois jours ne vueillez m’escondire Prince, grant me three more days to see things through,
Por moy pourvoir et aux miens adieu dire : Get ready, and then bid my friends adieu:
Sans eulx argent je n’ay, icy n’aulx changes. Without them I’m flat broke, the banks won’t lend.
Court triumphant, fiat, sans me desdire, Say fiat, Court, and don’t refuse me now,
Mere des bons et seur des benoistz anges ! Sister of angels, mother of good men.
212 213XV – Question au clerc du guichet XV – Question to the Prison Clerk*
Que dictes vous de mon appel, Garnier, tell me what you think:
Garnier ? Fis je sens ou folie ? Did this appeal make sense or not?
Toute beste garde sa pel : A beast looks after his own skin,
Qui la contraint, efforce ou lie, Beaten or trapped or tied, he’ll get
S’elle peut, elle se deslie. Free if he can and slip the knot.
Quant dont, par plaisir voluntaire, So when, out of the blue, they sang
Chanté me fut ceste omelie, Me such a homily on the spot,
Estoit il lors temps de moy taire ? Was that a time to hold my tongue?
Se fusse des hoirs Hue Capel, If I’d been heir to Hugh Capet*
Qui fut extrait de boucherie, (Born of a butcher’s line, I think), 10
On ne m’eust parmy ce drapel They would have found some other way
Fait boire en ceste escorcherie — Than using cloth to make me drink*
— Vous entendez bien joncherie —. – With you I need not be more frank.
Mais quant ceste paine arbitraire But when, beneath that penalty,
On me juga par tricherie, Wrongly imposed, I almost sank,
Estoit il lors temps de moy taire ? Was that a time to hold my tongue?
Cuydiés vous que soubz mon capel You think my cap does not conceal
N’eust autant de philosophie Enough philosophy to force
Comme de dire : « J’en appel » ? Out two short words like “I appeal”?
Si avoit, je vous certifie. I certify it does, of course, 20
— Combien que point trop ne m’y fie —. Though I’m not sure things can’t get worse.
Quant dit me me fut, present notaire, When I was told “You are to hang”
« Pendu serés », je vous affie, (With notary present to endorse),
Estoit il lors temps de moy taire ? Was that a time to hold my tongue?
Prince, se j’eusse eu la pepie, Prince, if I’d lost my voice, I’d be
Pieçà je fusse où est Clotaire : As dead as old Clotaire,* and hung
Aux champs, debout comme une espie. To keep stiff watch in fields: now say,
Estoit il lors temps de moy taire ? Was that a time to hold my tongue?
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208 F. Scott Fitgerald, All the Sad Young Men
current and forthcoming publications, please visit our website on:
209 Giuseppe T. di Lampedusa, Childhood Memories and Other Stories
210 Mark Twain, Is Shakespeare Dead? www.almaclassics.comYou can also read
