Published by du Chemin, 1549.

Lyrics: Clément Marot

Un gros prieur son petit fils baisait,
Et mignardait au matin en sa couche.
Tandis rôtir sa perdrix on faisait:
se leve, crache émeutit et se mouche.
La perdrix vient au sel de broche en bouche,
La devora bien savait la science.
Puis quand il eut pris sur sa conscience
Broc de vin blanc du meilleur qu'on élise.
"Mon Dieu", dit il "donne moi patience,
Qu'on a de mal pour servir sainte Eglise".

This lardy prior kisses his grandson
And footles around in bed until morning.
To get his partridge cooked he must
get up, hawk, spit and blow his nose.
The partridge arrives at his mouth, salted and spit-roasted,
And he consumes both it, marvelling at his own skill,
And also, after squaring his conscience,
A pitcher of white wine, considered of the best.
Says he: "O.m.g., give me strength,
Stuff happens when you serve Holy Church".