The Ballad Of Villon And Fat Madge Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB CDCDDBBBB EFEFFBBBBB BGBGGHHBHB HHBHHB IHIHHJHJ| lt i gt 'Tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation ' Falstaff | A |
| The night cometh when no man can work ' lt i gt | B |
| - | |
| What though the beauty I love and serve be cheap | C |
| Ought you to take me for a beast or fool | D |
| All things a man could wish are in her keep | C |
| For her I turn swashbuckler in love's school | D |
| When folk dropp in I take my pot and stool | D |
| And fall to drinking with no more ado | B |
| I fetch them bread fruit cheese and water too | B |
| I say all's right so long as I'm well paid | B |
| Look in again when your flesh troubles you | B |
| Inside this brothel where we drive our trade ' | - |
| - | |
| But soon the devil's among us flesh and fell | E |
| When penniless to bed comes Madge my whore | F |
| I loathe the very sight of her like hell | E |
| I snatch gown girdle surcoat all she wore | F |
| And tell her these shall stand against her score | F |
| She grips her hips with both hands cursing God | B |
| Swearing by Jesus' body bones and blood | B |
| That they shall not Then I no whit dismayed | B |
| Cross her cracked nose with some stray shiver of wood | B |
| Inside this brothel where we drive our trade | B |
| - | |
| When all's made up she drops me a windy word | B |
| Bloat like a beetle puffed and poisonous | G |
| Grins thumps my pate and calls me dickey bird | B |
| And cuffs me with a fist that's ponderous | G |
| We sleep like logs being drunken both of us | G |
| Then when we wake her womb begins to stir | H |
| To save her seed she gets me under her | H |
| Wheezing and whining flat as planks are laid | B |
| And thus she spoils me for a whoremonger | H |
| Inside this brothel where we drive our trade | B |
| - | |
| Blow hail or freeze I've bread here baked rent free | H |
| Whoring's my trade and my whore pleases me | H |
| Bad cat bad rat we're just the same if weighed | B |
| We that love filth filth follows us you see | H |
| Honour flies from us as from her we flee | H |
| Inside this brothel where we drive our trade | B |
| - | |
| I bequeath likewise to fat Madge | I |
| This little song to learn and study | H |
| By god's head she's a sweet fat fadge | I |
| Devout and soft of flesh and ruddy | H |
| I love her with my soul and body | H |
| So doth she me sweet dainty thing | J |
| If you fall in with such a lady | H |
| Read it and give it her to sing | J |
Franaois Villon
(1)
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