Marvoil
A poor clerk I, "Arnaut the less" they call me,And because I have small mind to sitDay long, long day cooped on a stoolA-jumbling o' figures for Maitre Jacques Polin,I ha' taken to rambling the South here.
The Vicomte of Beziers's not such a bad lot.I made rimes to his lady this three year:Vers and canzone, till that damn'd son of Aragon,Alfonso the half-bald, took to hangingHis helmet at Beziers.Then came what might come, to wit: three men and one woman,Beziers off at Mont-Ausier, I and his ladySinging the stars in the turrets of Beziers,And one lean Aragonese cursing the seneschalTo the end that you see, friends:
Aragon cursing in Aragon, Beziers busy at Beziers--Bored to an inch of extinction,Tibors all tongue and temper at Mont-Ausier,Me! in this damn'd inn of Avignon,Stringing long verse for the Burlatz;All for one half-bald, knock-knee'd king of the Aragonese,Alfonso, Quatro, poke-nose.
And if when I am deadThey take the trouble to tear out this wall here,They'll know more of Arnaut of MarvoilThan half his canzoni say of him.As for will and testament I leave none,Save this: "Vers and canzone to the Countess of BeziersIn return for the first kiss she gave me."May her eyes and her cheek be fairTo all men except the King of Aragon,And may I come speedily to BeziersWhither my desire and my dream have preceded me.O hole in the wall here! be thou my jongleurAs ne'er had I other, and when the wind blows,Sing thou the grace of the Lady of Beziers,For even as thou art hollow before I fill thee withthis parchment,So is my heart hollow when she filleth not mine eyes,And so were my mind hollow, did she not fill utterlymy thought.
Wherefore, O hole in the wall here,When the wind blows sigh thou for my sorrowThat I have not the Countess of BeziersClose in my arms here.Even as thou shalt soon have this parchment.
O hole in the wall here, be thou my jongleur,And though thou sighest my sorrow in the wind,Keep yet my secret in thy breast here;Even as I keep her image in my heart here.
Words in this poem
- clerk n.
- A clergyman or ecclesiastic. [Either OF. clerc, fr. L. clericus a priest, or AS. clerc, cleric, clerk, priest, fr. L. clericus, fr. Gr. Clergy.]
- arnaut n.
- An inhabitant of Albania and neighboring mountainous regions, specif. one serving as a soldier in the Turkish army.
- vers n.
- A verse or verses. See Verse.
- aragonese a.
- Of or pertaining to Aragon, in Spain, or to its inhabitants.
- countess n.
- The wife of an earl in the British peerage, or of a count in the Continental nobility; also, a lady possessed of the same dignity in her own right. See the Note under Count. [F. comtesse. See Count a nobleman.]
- whither adv.
- To what place; -- used interrogatively; as, whither goest thou [OE. whider. AS. hwider; akin to E. where, who; cf. Goth. hvadre whither. See Who, and cf. Hither, Thither.]
- jongleur n.
- In the Middle Ages, a court attendant or other person who, for hire, recited or sang verses, usually of his own composition. See Troubadour. [F. jongleur. See Juggler.]
- wherefore adv.
- For which reason; so; -- used relatively. [Where + for.]
- shalt
- 2d per. sing. of Shall.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Marvoil is in the public domain. This text is taken from Personae, Project Gutenberg ebook #41162; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Ezra Pound, Marvoil, in Personae (1909), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #41162, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/pound-personae/marvoil.html, id L01225.
Form and metre
Marvoil is 50 lines in 6 stanzas. This poem did not settle on a metre of its own; the book it comes from is in iambic pentameter. 92% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables. 10 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 30% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 2 --A-BA-B-- lot · year · aragonA · hanging · beziersB · womanA · lady · beziersB · seneschal · friends
- 3 -A-A--- beziers · extinctionA · ausier · avignonA · burlatz · aragonese · nose
- 4 -----AB--AB--A----- dead · here · marvoil · him · none · beziersA · meB · fair · aragon · beziersA · meB · jongleur · blows · beziersA · with · parchment · eyes · utterly · thought
- 5 A--A- hereA · sorrow · beziers · hereA · parchment
- 6 --AA jongleur · wind · hereA · hereA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| A poor clerk I, "Arnaut the less" they call me, | 11 | ··········· |
| And because I have small mind to sit | 9 | ········· |
| Day long, long day cooped on a stool | 9 | ·····˘··· |
| A-jumbling o' figures for Maitre Jacques Polin, | 12 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘·/˘ |
| I ha' taken to rambling the South here. | 10 | ··/˘·/˘··· |
| The Vicomte of Beziers's not such a bad lot. | 12 | ·˘/˘········ |
| I made rimes to his lady this three year: | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Vers and canzone, till that damn'd son of Aragon, | 13 | ··˘/˘·····/˘· |
| Alfonso the half-bald, took to hanging | 10 | ········/˘ |
| His helmet at Beziers. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Then came what might come, to wit: three men and one woman, | 13 | ···········/˘ |
| Beziers off at Mont-Ausier, I and his lady | 12 | ··········/˘ |
| Singing the stars in the turrets of Beziers, | 11 | /˘····/˘··· |
| And one lean Aragonese cursing the seneschal | 13 | ·······/˘·/˘˘ |
| To the end that you see, friends: | 7 | ······· |
| Aragon cursing in Aragon, Beziers busy at Beziers-- | 16 | /˘·/˘·/˘···/˘··· |
| Bored to an inch of extinction, | 9 | ·˘····˘/˘ |
| Tibors all tongue and temper at Mont-Ausier, | 11 | ·····/˘···· |
| Me! in this damn'd inn of Avignon, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| Stringing long verse for the Burlatz; | 8 | /˘······ |
| All for one half-bald, knock-knee'd king of the Aragonese, | 14 | ·············· |
| Alfonso, Quatro, poke-nose. | 7 | ······· |
| And if when I am dead | 6 | ······ |
| They take the trouble to tear out this wall here, | 11 | ···/˘······ |
| They'll know more of Arnaut of Marvoil | 9 | ········· |
| Than half his canzoni say of him. | 9 | ········· |
| As for will and testament I leave none, | 10 | ····/˘˘··· |
| Save this: "Vers and canzone to the Countess of Beziers | 14 | ····˘/˘··/˘··· |
| In return for the first kiss she gave me." | 10 | ·˘/······· |
| May her eyes and her cheek be fair | 8 | ········ |
| To all men except the King of Aragon, | 11 | ········/˘· |
| And may I come speedily to Beziers | 10 | ····/˘˘··· |
| Whither my desire and my dream have preceded me. | 13 | /˘·˘/····˘/˘· |
| O hole in the wall here! be thou my jongleur | 11 | ··········· |
| As ne'er had I other, and when the wind blows, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Sing thou the grace of the Lady of Beziers, | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| For even as thou art hollow before I fill thee with | 13 | ·/···/˘······ |
| this parchment, | 3 | ·/˘ |
| So is my heart hollow when she filleth not mine eyes, | 13 | ····/˘··/˘··· |
| And so were my mind hollow, did she not fill utterly | 13 | ·····/˘····/˘ |
| my thought. | 2 | ·· |
| Wherefore, O hole in the wall here, | 8 | /˘······ |
| When the wind blows sigh thou for my sorrow | 10 | ········/˘ |
| That I have not the Countess of Beziers | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Close in my arms here. | 5 | ····· |
| Even as thou shalt soon have this parchment. | 10 | /˘······/˘ |
| O hole in the wall here, be thou my jongleur, | 11 | ··········· |
| And though thou sighest my sorrow in the wind, | 11 | ···/˘·/˘··· |
| Keep yet my secret in thy breast here; | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Even as I keep her image in my heart here. | 11 | /····/˘···· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.