![]() | ![]() | ![]() |
Domna, tant vos ai preiada, Si.us plaz, q'amar me voillaz, Q'eu sui vostr' endomenjaz, Car es pros et enseignada E toz bos prez autreiaz; Per qe.m plai vostr' amistaz. Car es en toz faiz cortesa, S'es mos cors en vos fermaz Plus q'en nulla Genoesa, Per q'er merces si m'amaz; E pois serai meilz pagaz Qe s'era mia.ill ciutaz, Ab l'aver q'es ajostaz, Dels Genoes. Jujar, voi no sei corteso Qe me chaidejai de zo, Qe niente no farò. Ance fossi voi apeso Vostr' amia non serò. Certo, ja ve scanerò, Provenzal malaurao! Tal enojo ve diro: Sozo, mozo, escalvao Ni ja voi non amerò, Q'eu chu bello marì ò Qe voi no sei, ben lo so. Andai via, frar', eu temp'ò Meillaurà Domna gent' et essernida, Gai' e pros e conoissenz, Valla.m vostr' ensegnamenz, Car jois e jovenz vos gida, Cortesi' e prez e senz E toz bos captenemenz; Per qe.us sui fidels amaire Senes toz retenemenz, Francs, humils e merceiaire, Tant fort me destreing e.m venz Vostr' amors, qe m'es plasenz; Per qe sera chausimenz, S'eu sui vostre benvolenz E vostr' amics. Jujar, voi semellai mato, Qe cotal razon tegnei. Mal vignai e mal andei Non avei sen per un gato, Per qe trop me deschasei, Qe mala cosa parei! Ni no volio qesta cosa, Si fossi fillo de rei. Credì voi que sia mosa? Mia fe, no m'averei! Si per m'amor ve chevei, Oguano morrei de frei: Tropo son de mala lei Li Provenzal. Domna, no.m siaz tant fera, Qe no.s cove ni s'eschai; Anz taing ben, si a vos plai, Qe de mo sen vos enqera E qe.us am ab cor verai, E vos qe.m gitez d'esmai, Q'eu vos sui hom e servire, Car vei e conosc e sai, Qant vostra beutat remire Fresca cum rosa en mai, Q'el mont plus bella no.n sai, Per qe.us am et amarai, E si bona fes mi trai, Sera pechaz. Jujar, to proenzalesco, S'eu aja gauzo de mi, Non prezo un genoì. No t'entend plui d'un Toesco O Sardo o Barbarì, Ni non ò cura de ti. Voi t'acaveilar co mego? Si.l savera me' marì, Mal plait averai con sego. Bel messer, ver e' ve dì: No vollo questo latì! Fraello, zo ve afì. Proenzal, va, mal vesti, Largaime star Domna, en estraing cossire M'avez mes et en esmai; Mas enqera.us preiarai Qe voillaz q'eu vos essai, Si cum Provenzals o fai, Qant es pojatz. Jujar, no sero con tego, Pos' asi te cal de mi! Meill varà, per sant Martì, S'andai a ser Opetì, Que dar v'a fors' un roncì, Car sei jujar. |
Lady, so much I have endeared you, an you please, to grant me your love since you have me in thrall, because you are valiant and noble, and gifted with all good virtues; For this I like your friendship. Because you are kind in all actions, my heart is taken by you more than by any other Genoese, so it'll be mercy if you love me; And then I'd be better repaid than if that city were mine along with the wealth hoarded by the Genoese. Jester, you are not courteous that harass with this me, who shall do nothing. Rather, go get hanged: I shan't be your friend. Instead, I'll slit your throat, ill-bred Provençal! I'll insult you thus: filthy, scabby dunce I'll never love you, I, who have a husband more handsome than you are, and know it well. Go away, brother, I have it better with him. Lady, kind and wise, merry and valiant and learned, your knowledge be of help to me, since joy and youth conduct you, along with kindness, worth and sense and all good manners; Since I'm to you a faithful suitor without any reserve earnest, humble and pleading, so strongly grips me and wins me your love, which pleases me; Therefore it will be the best choice if I am welcome and your friend. Jester, you sound insane when keeping to such a reasoning. Badly you come, and badly go away: you don't have brains to match a cat, for this reason you displease me too much, it looks like a rotten thing! Nor would I like this thing if you were a king's son. Do you think I am a fool? By my faith, you shan't have me. If you'd pawned my love, this year you'd die of cold: too much is the ill will of the Provençal. Lady, don't be so cruel to me, it isn't meet, it doesn't fit you! Instead, what is proper, if you like, is that I beg you through my wit and that I love you with a true heart, and that you take my dejection away since I am your man and servant, because I see and remember and know, when I contemplate your beauty, fresh as a rose in May, that I don't know any fairer one in the World, for this I love you and will love you and if good will betrays me it shall be a sin. Jester, your Provençal -may I rejoice- isn't worth a penny to me. I don't understand you more than a German or Sardinian or Berber nor do I care about you. Do you want to wrangle with me? If my husband knows it, you'll have a bad time with him. Nice chap, I'll tell you, in truth: I don't want this talk! Brother, be sure. Go, ragged Provençal, leave me alone. Lady, to a strange concern you have stirred me, and to anguish; But still, I shall beg you that you consent to assay how a Provençal does it when mounting. Jester, I shan't be with you; but since you care so much for me, you'd better, by St. Martin, go to Sir Obizzino, who will perhaps give you a nag, since you are a jester. |