This text has been translated from français to Anglais (excepting a few expressions and terms.)


 

Je m’appelle Jeanne de Valois-Saint-Rémy, and I stand by my view that Marie Antoinette may brûle en enfer.

Some context:

Mon père (father) is the illegitimate (but, legitimate enough, I say!) son of King Henry II – therefore, in my veins trickles drops of Royal Valois blood. But hear this! As a young person, I was neglected, went barefoot, tended the cows, for Lord’s sake, and had to stoop so low as to beg for food! What kind of injustice is this to me, a royal, may I ask?! Injustice, say I! Injustice!

In June of 1780, I became married to my amoureux, my love, Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de Motte. (Try saying that ten times fast.) Alas, the children I birthed lasted only mere days before withering away from existence. Yet, even with only two mouths to feed in our home, my husband is unable to meet my needs, and fit my visions for a lavish lifestyle, the dastardly man.

So I sought out my fellow royal, Queen Marie Antoinette. The nerve of her! As often as I could, I traveled to Versailles to grasp the Queen’s attention. She, as a fellow woman, must sympathize with me! Could she not see my poor, poor, situation? Of course not! My conclusions be that her skin is tautly stretched over a chest that holds no heart at all! Upon having lent an ear to the story of my miserable state, she refused to see me! Refused!

And here weep I, mourning that I do not posses twenty castles and a plethora of personal servants. Je suis triste, je suis détruit. 

But vengeance will arise! Arise! In store, do I have plans for her consequence!

Just you wait!

Just you wait!


 

 Jeanne de Valois-Saint-Rémy the Musical

How does a neglected, barefoot, great-granddaughter of a illegitimate child of king Henry II
And daughter of a poor man, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in European lands,
In squalor, grow up to be a thief and a frauder?

The zero-pound searching daughter without a daughter
Got a little farther by working a lot harder
By being a lot smarter By being a self-starter
By fourteen…she was tending the cows so they could be slaughthered.

And every day while the Queen was getting carried away
Creating tension across the waves, she struggled and kept her guard up
Inside, she was longing for money to be a part of
The daughter was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter

Then a handsome man came, and devastation reigned
Our woman saw her future drip, dripping down the drain
Put a necklace to her temple, connected ideas to her brain
And she performed the diamond affair, acts resulting from her pain

Well, the word got around, they said, this fille is insane, man
Spoke to made direction to get her out of the prison chained-land
Get your whippings and jailtime, don’t forget from whence you came
And the world is gonna know your name
What’s your name, fam?

Jeanne de Valois-Saint-Rémy,
Je m’appelle Jeanne de Valois-Saint-Rémy,
And there’s a million things I haven’t done
But just you wait, just you wait!

 

 

  1. Excuse me, this is rude. To bad for you, peasant. Should have had a LEGITIMATE royal father, shouldn’t you have. And you are the criminal, with your dreadful necklace affair.

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