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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BALLAD FOR FAT MARGOT, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: If I love and serve my beauty with good heart
Last Line: Here in this brothel where we hold our court
Alternate Author Name(s): Montcorbier, Francois De
Subject(s): Prostitution; Harlots; Whores; Brothels




If I love and serve my beauty with good heart,
Must you think me common and a mug?
She has in her all that a man could want.
For love of her, both sword and shield I lug;
When people come, I run and fetch a jug,
And get some wine, as quiet as I can do't
I offer water, cheese and bread and fruit.
If they pay well, I say to them : "Good Sport!
Come again, when you feel in rut
Here to this brothel where we hold our court'/'


But then disharmony its reign does start
When Margot comes to bed and brings no cash;
I cannot bear her, but feel a deathly hate.
I snatch her dress and petticoat and sash,
And swear I'll keep them all instead of cash.
She, arms akimbo, cries: 'Tou Antichrist,"
And swears to me by death of Jesus Christ
It shall not be. And so I grab a stout
Stick, and on her nose my message write,
Here in this brothel where we hold our court.


Then we make up, and she lets out a fart,
Since she's more bloated than a venomous bug.
Then laughing, claps her fist upon my pate,
Calls me cute, and hits me in the leg.
Completely drunk, we both sleep like a log.
And when we wake, her belly shows its might,
She mounts me, so as not to spoil her fruit.
I groan beneath her, squashed flat like a board;
By lechery she has me ruined quite,
Here in this brothel where we hold our court.


Come wind, hail, or frost, my bread is won.
I'm a lecher, she's a lecherous one.
Which is betterr We are both as one.
Bad cat, bad rat: each a no-good sort.
Garbage we love, garbage follows on.
We flee from honor, from us it flees, is gone,
Here in this brothel where we hold our court.






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