Poems and Ballads (second series)/The Complaint of the Fair Armouress

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According to Wise, the suppressed lines in stanza vii. read—The large loins, and the flower that was | Planted above my strong, round thighs | In a small garden of soft grass. Those from stanza ix.—The flanks too, like the bosom, thin; | As for the sweet place, out on it! | For the lank thighs, no thighs but skin, |They are like singed strips of sausage meat.

3781087Poems and Ballads (second series) — The Complaint of the Fair ArmouressAlgernon Charles Swinburne

TRANSLATIONS FROM THE FRENCH OF VILLON.

THE COMPLAINT OF THE FAIR ARMOURESS.

i.

Meseemeth I heard cry and groan

That sweet who was the armourer's maid;
For her young years she made sore moan,
And right upon this wise she said;
'Ah fierce old age with foul bald head,
To spoil fair things thou art over fain;
Who holdeth me? who? would God I were dead!
Would God I were well dead and slain!

ii.

'Lo, thou hast broken the sweet yoke

That my high beauty held above
All priests and clerks and merchant‑folk;
There was not one but for my love

Would give me gold and gold enough,
Though sorrow his very heart had riven,
To win from me such wage thereof
As now no thief would take if given.

iii.

'I was right chary of the same,

God wot it was my great folly,
For love of one sly knave of them,
Good store of that same sweet had he;
For all my subtle wiles, perdie,
God wot I loved him well enow;
Right evilly he handled me,
But he loved well my gold, I trow.

iv.

'Though I gat bruises green and black,

I loved him never the less a jot;
Though he bound burdens on my back,
If he said "Kiss me" and heed it not

Right little pain I felt, God wot,
When that foul thief's mouth, found so sweet,
Kissed me—Much good thereof I got!
I keep the sin and the shame of it.

vi.

'And he died thirty year agone.

I am old now, no sweet thing to see;
By God, though, when I think thereon,
And of that good glad time, woe's me,
And stare upon my changed body
Stark naked, that has been so sweet,
Lean, wizen, like a small dry tree,
I am nigh mad with the pain of it.

vi.

'Where is my faultless forehead's white,

The lifted eyebrows, soft gold hair,
Eyes wide apart and keen of sight,
With subtle skill in the amorous air;

The straight nose, great nor small, but fair,
The small carved ears of shapeliest growth,
Chin dimpling, colour good to wear,
And sweet red splendid kissing mouth?

vii.

'The shapely slender shoulders small,

Long arms, hands wrought in glorious wise,
Round little breasts, the hips withal
High, full of flesh, not scant of size,
Fit for all amorous masteries;
*** ***** *****, *** *** ****** **** ***
******* ***** ** **** ***** ******
** * ***** ****** ** **** *****?

viii.

'A writhled forehead, hair gone grey,

Fallen eyebrows, eyes gone blind and red,
Their laughs and looks all fled away,
Yea, all that smote men's hearts are fled;

The bowed nose, fallen from goodlihead;
Foul flapping ears like water‑flags;
Peaked chin, and cheeks all waste and dead,
And lips that are two skinny rags:

ix.

'Thus endeth all the beauty of us.

The arms made short, the hands made lean,
The shoulders bowed and ruinous,
The breasts, alack! all fallen in;
The flanks too, like the breasts, grown thin;
** *** *** ***** *****, *** ** **!
*** *** **** ******, ** ****** *** ****,
**** *** **** ****** ****** ** *******-****.

x.

'So we make moan for the old sweet days,

Poor old light women, two or three
Squatting above the straw‑fire's blaze,
The bosom crushed against the knee,

Like fagots on a heap we be,
Round fires soon lit, soon quenched and done;
And we were once so sweet, even we!
Thus fareth many and many an one.'