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Truan, mala guerra
Sai volon comensar
Domnas d'esta terra
E vilas contrafar:
En plan o en serra
Volon ciutat levar
Ab tors,
Quar tan pueia l'onors
De leis que sotzterra
Lur pretz e.l sieu ten car,
Qu'es flors
De totas las melhors,
Na Biatritz; car tan lur es sobreira
Qu'encontra lieis faran totas senheira
E guerr' e fuec e fum e polvereira.

La ciutatz s'ajosta
E fan murs e fossatz;
Domnas, ses somosta,
I venon de totz latz,
Si que pretz lur costa
E jovens e beutatz.
E pes
Que.l filha del marques
N'aura manta josta,
Car a conques en patz
Totz bes
E totz bos aibs cortes;
E car es pros e franch' e de bon aire
Non estara plus en patz que sos paire,
Que tornatz es a lansar et a traire.

Domnas de Versilha
Volon venir en l'ost,
Sebeli e Guilha
E na Riqueta tost,
La mair' e la filha
D'Amsiza, can que cost;
Ven de Lenta n'Agnes
E de Ventamilha
Na Guilhelm' a rescost.
Er la ciutatz en pes.
De Canaves i ven molt gran companha,
De Toscana, e domnas de Romanha,
Na Tomazin' e.l domna de Soranha.

Engles e Garsenda
E Palmeir' e n'Auditz,
N'Aud' e na Berlenda,
N'Agnes e n'Eloitz,
Volon que lur renda
Joven na Biatritz;
Si no,
Las domnas de Ponso
En querran esmenda.
E lai part Mon Senitz
La ciutatz Contesso,
Qu'ades guerrei leis qu'es tan bon' e bella,
Que sos gens cors tol a la Damizella
E a totas color fresqu' e novella.

Maria la Sarda
E.l domna de sant Jortz,
Berta e.l Bastarda
Mandon tot lur esfortz,
Que joves Lombarda
Non rest de sai los portz.
E sai
Qu'a na Biatritz plai,
Quar lurs reiregarda
Non pot esser tan fortz
Lo sieu fin pretz verai.
Donan lur senh, cavalcon ab gran joia;
Fag an ciutat et an li mes nom Troia:
Poestat fan de midons de Savoia.

La ciutatz se vana
De far ost en arrenc,
E sona.l campana,
E lo vielhs comuns venc,
E ditz per ufana
Que chascuna desrenc;
Pueis ditz
Que.l bela Biatritz
Estai sobeirana
De so que.l comuns tenc:
N'es totz e desconfitz.
Trompas sonon e la poestatz cria:
"Demandem li beutat e cortezia,
Pretz e joven", e totas cridon: "Sia!"

La ciutatz se vueia
E movon lur carros,
E.l vielhs comuns pueia
E gieton en lur dos
Coirassas de trueia
Ab que cobron lurs os;
An et arcs e carcais,
E non temon plueia,
Ni mals temps no lur nos.
Veirem de grans assais.
De totas partz comenson a combatre;
Na Biatritz cuidan de pretz abatre,
Mas non lur val, s'eran per una quatre.

Per los murs a fendre
Fan engenhs e castels,
E calabres tendre,
Gossas e manganels,
Fuec grezesc acendre,
E fan volar cairels;
De jos
Traucan murs ab bossos.
Per tal no.s vol rendre
Lo sieus joves cors bels,
Faz de bellas faissos.
Totas cridan: "Ajuda, tras l'esponda!"
L'un' a l'altra; la tersa ten la fronda,
E trazon tug li genh a la reonda.

Na Biatritz monta
E va.s de pretz garnir:
Ausberc ni porponta
Non vol, e vai ferir
Sel' ab cui s'afronta,
Que pres es de morir;
E jonh
Et abat pres e lonh.
Fait a tanta jonta
Que l'ost fai desconfir;
Pueis ponh
Tant que.l carros desjonh.
Tanta n'a prez' e derrocad' e morta
Que.l vielhs comuns s'esmai' e.s desconorta,
Si qu'a Troia l'enclaus dedinz la porta.

Na Biatritz, be.m plai quar es estorta
A las vielhas, que.l vostres gens cors porta
Pretz e joven, c'a lor proeza morta.

Bels Cavaliers, vostr' amors mi conorta
E.m dona joi e m'alegr' e.m deporta,
Quant autra gens s'esmai' e.s desconorta.

I know that the ladies
of this country want to start
a wretched, evil war
in the peasants' manner:
in the plains or in the highland
they want to raise a city
with towers,
so highly placed is the honour
of the one who buries
their worth, and dearly prizes her own,
she who is the flower
of all the best women,
Dame Biatriz; because she is so superior to them
that they will all raise their standards,
and war and fire and smoke and dust against her.

The citizens assemble
and build walls and trenches;
ladies, without summons,
concur there from all sides:
what's at stake is their worth,
youth and beauty.
And I think
that the marquis' daughter
will have her share of jousts,
since she has won, during peaceful times,
all virtues
and all good courtly qualities;
and since she is precious and earnest and of high breeding,
she won't remain peaceful longer than her father,
who has reverted to the lance and the bow.

Ladies from Versilia
want to join the host,
Sebeli and Guilha
and, soon, Dame Riqueta;
the mother and the daughter
from Incisa, cost what it may;
Dame Agnes come from Lenta
and from Ventimiglia,
in secret, Dame Wilhelmina.
the city will be erect.
A very large company comes from the Canavese,
from Tuscany, and ladies from Romagna,
Dame Thomasina and the lady of Soragna.

Engles and Garsenda
and Palmyra and Dame Auditz,
Dame Alda and Dame Berlenda,
Dame Agnes and Dame Eloitz,
insist to get back
youth from Dame Biatritz;
the lady of Ponzone
will demand from her reparation.
And there, beyond Moncenisio,
the city
calls the Young Countess forth
to presently wage war to her who is so fair and virtuous
that her pleasant body robs the Young Lady
and everybody of their fresh and youthful colour.

Maria the Sardinian
and the Lady of San Giorgio,
Berta and Bastarda
call together all their forces,
so that no young woman from Lombardy
idles, from here to the borders.
And I know
that it pleases Dame Biatritz,
because their rear-guard
can't be so strong
as to overwhelm
her true and precious worth.
They give their signal, they ride with great enthusiasm;
they have made their city, and named it Troy:
as mayor, they elect my Lady of Savoy.

The city boasts
it will form an army in battle array,
and the bell sounds,
and the old commune comes,
and arrogantly says
that everyone should march forward;
then it says
that the beautiful Beatritz
now reigns
over what the commune owned:
therefore it is utterly
dshonoured and defeated.
The trumpets sounds, and the mayor cries:
"We demand beauty and pleasant ways,
worth and youth", and all cry "So be it!".

The city is emptied
and they move their chariots;
and the old commune mounts
and they throw on their backs
armours of pigskin
with which they cover their bones;
they have
jerkins and bows and quivers,
and they don't fear the rain
nor does bad weather harm them.
we shall see great assaults.
They start fighting from all sides;
they purpose to abate Dame Biatritz from her worth,
but they don't succeed, even if they were four to each defender.

In order to crack the walls,
they make engines and siege-towers,
and stretch catapults,
bitches and mangonels,
they light Greek fire,
and they let bolts fly;
they breach the walls with battering rams.
In spite of this, she won't surrender
her young, beautiful body,
and shaped of beautiful features.
They all cry: "Up and across the barriers!"
to each other; and a third holds the sling,
and all around all the engines fire.

Dame Biatritz mounts
and goes deck herself with worth:
she refuses hauberk
and doublet, and goes strike
the ones she confronts,
who are about to die;
she attacks
and fells those near and far.
She has sown so much dismay
that she confounds the enemy;
then she spurs
until the chariot is torn asunder.
So many has she captured, dismounted and killed
that the old commune is dismayed and disheartened,
so that it locks itself inside the doors of Troy.

Dame Biatritz, I am glad you escaped
the old ladies, for your pleasant body carries
worth and youth, and has slain their prowess.

Beautiful Knight, your love comforts me
and gives me joy and gladdens me and delights me,
while other people are dismayed and disheartened.