LITERARY SELECTION 40

Troubadour Songs

Beatritz, Countess of Dia

1. Friend, I stand in great distress

Because of you, and in great pain;

And I think you don't care one bit

About the ills that I'm enduring;

And so, why set yourself as my lover

Since to me you bequeath all the woe?

Why can't we share it equally?

2. Lady, love goes about his job

As he chains two friends together

So the ills they have and the lightness too

Are felt by each--in his fashion.

And I think--and I'm no gabber--

That all this deep-down, heartstruck woe

I have in full on my side too.

3. Friend, if you had just one fourth

Of this aching that afflicts me now,

I'm sure you'd see my burden of pain;

But little you care about my grief,

Since you know I can't break free;

But to you it's all the same

Whether good or bad possess me.

4. Lady, because these glazing spies,

Who have robbed me of my sense and breath,

Are our most vicious warriors,

I'm stopping: not because desire dwindles.

No, I can't be near, for their vicious brays

Have hedged us in for a deadly game.

And we can't sport through frolicsome days.

5. Friend, I offer you no thanks

Because my damnation is not the bit

That checks those visits I yearn for so.

And if you set yourself as watchman

Against my slander without my request,

Then I'll have to think you're more "true-blue"

Than those loyal Knights of the Hospital.

6. (I'll lose your gold, and you mere sand)

If through the talk of these scandalmongers

Our love will turn itself to naught.

And so I've got to stay on guard

More than youÑby St. Martial I swear!Ñ

For you're the thing that matters most.

7. Friend, I know you're changeable

In the way you handle your love,

And I think that as a chevalier

You're one of that shifting kind;

And I'm justified in blaming you,

For I'm sure other things are on your mind,

Since I'm no longer the thought that's there.

8. Lady, I'll never carry again

My falcon, never hunt with a hawk,

If, now that you've given me joy enter

I started chasing another girl.

No, I'm not that kind of shyster:

It's envy makes those two-faced talk.

They make up tales and paint me vile.

9. Friend, should I accept your word

So that I can hold you forever true?

10. Lady, from now on you'll have me true,

For I'll never think of another.

More direct than much of the poetry of her male counterparts, the following song leaves no doubt about the lady's fiery passion. The slighting reference to the husband may have amused the Count, for this is, after all, a fictional account of a woman who has much in common with the Wife of Bath in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.

1. I've suffered great distress

From a knight whom I once owned.

Now, for all time, be it known:

I loved him--yes, to excess.

His jilting I've regretted,

Yet his love I never really returned.

Now for my sin I can only burn:

Dressed, or in my bed.

2. O. if I had that knight to caress

Naked all night in my arms,

He'd be ravished by the charm

Of using, for cushion, my breast.

His love I more deeply prize

Than Floris did Blancheflor's.

Take that love, my core,

My sense, my life, my eyes!

3. Lovely lover, gracious, kind,

When will I overcome your fight?

O, if I could lie with you one night!

Feel those loving lips on mine!

Listen, one thing sets me afire:

Here in my husband's place I want you,

If you'll just keep your promise true:

Give me everything I desire.