Frère Thibault (Pierre Certon)

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•  Posted on 2020-09-29(Posted 2020-09-29)  CPDL #60715: 

Editor: Christopher Shaw (submitted 2020-09-29).   Score information: A4, 4 pages, 164 kB   Copyright: Personal

Edition notes: Please click on the link for preview/playback/PDF download. Edition offered at original pitch for SATB or transposed down a fourth for ATTB

• (Posted 2017-02-06)  CPDL #42985:         

Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2017-02-06).   Score information: A4, 4 pages, 58 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: Reformatting of #16066, with corrections.

• (Posted 2008-02-17)  CPDL #16066:       

Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2008-02-17).   Score information: A4, 4 pages, 38 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: NoteWorthy Composer file may be viewed and printed with NoteWorthy Composer Viewer.

Possible error(s) identified. See the discussion page for full description.

• (Posted 2001-01-25)  CPDL #02010:  PDF & MIDI files

Editor: François-Xavier Chauchat (submitted 2001-01-25).   Score information: A4, 4 pages, 85 kB   Copyright: Personal

Edition notes: Files and facsimile available at 'http://arenai.free.fr' in Database section

General Information

Title: Frère Thibault
Composer: Pierre Certon
Lyricist: Clément Marot

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicings: SATB or ATTB
Genre: Secular, Chanson

Language: French
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1540 in Quart livre de chansons à quatre (Attaingnant)

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

French text Frère Thibault, sejourné gros et gras, Tiroit de nuict une garce en chemise. Par le treillis de sa chambre les bras Elle passa, puis la teste y a mise, Et puis le seing, mais elle fut bien prise, Car le fessier y passer ne put onc : "Par la mort bieu, (ce dit le moyne adonc), Il ne m'en chault de bras, tetin ne teste. Passez le cul, ou vous retirez donc, Je ne sçauroys sans luy vous faire feste.

English translation Friar Thibault, well fat and lardy, is pulling a hoe into his cell one night through the trellis; Arms, chest, head, then she gets well stuck 'cause her booty won't go through. "Sod it" says the monk, "arms, tits and head don't do it for me, Get your arse in here or sod off. I don't know how to party without it". (trans. Demotic by notAmos)