LE DÉBAT DU COEUR ET DU CORPS
DE VILLON		THE DEBATE BETWEEN VILLON’S HEART
AND BODY
François Villontr. Peter Dean
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,
Quant je te voy retrait ainsi seulet,
Com povre chien tapi en reculet.

- Pour quoy est ce? - Par ta folle plaisance.

- Que t'en chault il? - J'en ay la deplaisance.
- Laisse m'en paix! - Pour quoy? - J'y penseray.
- Quant sera ce? - Quant seray hors d'enfance.
- Plus ne t'en dis. - Et je m'en passeray.

- Que penses tu? - Estre homme de valeur.

- Tu as trente ans! - C'est l'aage d'un mulet.
- Est ce enfance? - Nennil. - C'est donc folleur
Qui te sasist? - Par ou? Par le collet?
- Rien ne congnois. - Si faiz. - Quoy? - Mousche en lait:
L'ung est blanc, l'autre noir. C'est distance.

- Est ce donc tout? - Que veulx tu que je tence?
Se n'est assez, je recommenceray.
- Tu es perdu! - G'y mettray resistance.
- Plus ne t'en dis. - Et je m'en passeray.
- J'en ay le dueil, toy le mal et douleur.
Se feusse ung povre ydiot et folet,
Encore eusses de t'excuser couleur;
Si n'as tu soing. Tout t'est ung, bel ou lait.
Ou la teste as plus dure q'un jalet,
Ou mieulx te plaist qu'onneur ceste meschance:
Que respondras a ceste consequence?

- J'en seray hors quant je trepasseray.

- Dieu! Quel confort! Quelle sage eloquence!
Plus ne t'en dis. - Et je m'en passeray.

- Dont vient ce mal? - Il vient de mon mal eur:
Quant Saturne me fist mon fardelet,
Ses motz y mist, je le croy. - C'est foleur:
Son seigneur es, et te tiens son varlet!
Voy que Salmon escript en son rolet:
"L'homme sage, ce dit il, a puissance
Sur planetes et sur leur influence."

- Je n'en croy riens : tel qu'il m'ont fait seray.

- Que dis tu dea? - Certes, c'est ma creance.
- Plus ne t'en dis. - Et je m'en passeray.

- Veulx tu vivre? - Dieu m'en doint la puissance!
- Il te fault. - Quoy? - Remors de conscïence,
Lire sans fin. - En quoy? - Lire en scïence,
Laisser les folz. - Bien j'y adviseray.
- Or le retien! - J'en ay bien souvenance.

- N'attens pas trop, qu'il ne tiengne a plaisance!
Plus ne t'en dis. - Et je m'en passeray.
 What’s that I hear? It’s me. Who? It’s your heart
and I hang on by the slenderest thread:
I’ve no strength left, not one ounce any part,
when I see you thus holed-up and half-dead
like some poor mongrel driven back to its bed.

And why is that? From your pursuit of pleasure.

But what is that to you? By the pain I measure!
Let me be! Why? To think on what you’ve said.
Till when? Till, child no more, I’ll have the leisure.
I’ll say no more. And I’ll not break my head.

What’re you thinking about? Playing the manly part.

You’re thirty now - the age a mule is dead!
Is that still childhood? No. Well, for a start
it must be madness then. Why? You’re in dread.
Nothing like! It’s a fact! How? As soon read
as flies in milk - one’s black, the other’s white.

Is that all then? What would you have me write?
If it’s not thus I’ll start again instead.
You’re a lost man! I’ll put up a good fight.
I’ll say no more. And I’ll not break my head.
Mine is the anguish: yours the pain and smart.
If you’d been simply an idiot or bonehead
I could have made allowance on your part:
but you don’t care, all’s one to you, you’ve said,
who’re harder than a rock in a stream bed,
and rather than honour choose your present plight!
What do you say to my reasoning in this light?

I’ll be well clear of this when I am dead.

My God! There’s comfort! Such wise words to recite!
I’ll say no more. And I’ll not break my head.

But what’s the problem? Bad luck from the start.
Saturn it was who packed my bags and led
me astray, I think. That’s mad! And quite apart
from letting him lord it over you, haven’t you read
what Solomon in his scrolls once wrote? He said:
"The wise man’s he who always has control
over planets and their influence on his soul."

I can’t take that. I’m as made - born and bred.

You what!? That’s my belief, entire and whole.
I’ll say no more. And I’ll not break my head.

Vivid life you want though? God give me force!
It means you must ... Must what? Repent, of course;
Lengthier reading. Reading what? Knowledge I endorse,
Leaves fools behind. Good, that’s what I’ve heard said.
Only, you must keep it. I’ve had the pleasure.

Never let it turn then to displeasure.
I’ll say no more. And I’ll not break my head.
Trans. Copyright © Peter Dean 2003 







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