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Updated: May 19, 2025
Ariane ma soeur, de quel amour blessée, Vous mourûtes aux bords où vous fûtes laissée. Here, certainly, are no 'mots rares'; here is nothing to catch the mind or dazzle the understanding; here is only the most ordinary vocabulary, plainly set forth. But is there not an enchantment? Is there not a vision?
Poetry and alchymy were his delight, and priests and women were his abomination. A pleasant story is related of him and the ladies of the court of Charles IV. He had written the following libellous couplet upon the fair sex : "Toutes etes, serez, ou futes De fait ou de volonte, putains, Et qui, tres bien vous chercherait Toutes putains, vous trouverait."
She was giving expression to her habitual contempt for her sex as she crooned over, in a sufficiently audible voice to reach the ear of Fanchon, a hateful song of Jean Le Meung on women: "'Toutes vous etes, serez ou futes, De fait ou de volonte putes!"
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