lines, followed by a verse of four lines, known as the envoy, or three
verses of ten lines, with envoy of five, each of the stanzas and the
envoy closing with the refrain. The most important rules for the
ballade may be put briefly:--_First_, The same set of rhymes in the
same order they occupy in the first stanza must repeat throughout the
whole of its verses. _Secondly_, No word once used as a rhyme must be
used again for that purpose in the whole length of the poem. _Thirdly_,
Each stanza and the envoy must close with the refrain; the envoy
always taking the same rhymes as the last half of the preceding verse,
in the same order. For the eight-lined ballade, but three rhymes are
allowable. In ordinary rhyme formula the sequence of these is A, B, A,
B, B, C, B, C, for each of the three verses, and B, C, B, C, for the
envoy. The importance of the refrain must now be noticed. Old writers
and purists of our own time insist that the length of the refrain
should govern not only the length of each line, but the number of the
lines; in other words, that a refrain of eight syllables involves the
choice of an eight-lined stanza, while the refrain of ten syllables
demands a ten-lined verse. This is the strict rule of the ballade as
written by Clement Marot, and by some modern writers; but it must be
clearly understood that it is only the rule for the ideally pure form,
and that variations in this respect are perfectly allowable. Now the
importance of the refrain in one aspect is given, a still more vital
point must be named--namely, that the sense of the refrain must be
supreme throughout the ballade, the culminating line of each stanza
always brought in without effort as the natural close of the verse.
In the verses a special feature must not be overlooked, namely, that
the stanza (of eight or ten lines, as the case may be) should carry
an unbroken sense throughout, and not split into two verses of four
lines or five lines, that are by chance printed as though they were
one. The needful pauses for punctuation are of course allowed, but the
sense should not finish at the end of the first quatrain (or quintain),
but demand the rest of the verse to complete the idea presented. All
these apparently trivial details must be regarded if the ballade is
attempted. The advice given in _Alice in Wonderland_, "Take care of
the sense and the sounds will take care of themselves," whether in
that way or its inversion, "Take care of the sounds and the sense will
take care of itself," is exactly the direct opposite of the true rule.
Neither sense nor sound may be scamped here. If you neglect the sounds
it is no ballade; if you neglect the sense--why write it at all? No one
is compelled to use these complex forms, but if chosen, their laws
must be obeyed to the letter if success is to be attained. The chief
pleasure they yield consists in the apparent spontaneity, which is the
result of genius, if genius be indeed the art of taking infinite pains;
or, if that definition is rejected, they must yet exhibit the art which
conceals art, whether by intense care in every minute detail, or a
happy faculty for naturally wearing these fetters. The dance in chains
must be skilful, the chains worn as decorative adjuncts, and the whole
with as much apparent ease as the unfettered dancer could produce, or
woe betide the unlucky wight who attempts to perform in them.
The ENVOY is so peculiarly a feature of the Ballade and Chant Royal,
that it is needful to draw our attention to the invocation which with
it invariably commences. Of old this envoy was really addressed to
the patron of the poet, or at least to the high dignitary to whom he
dedicated his ballade. So that we find Prince! or Princess! Sire! or
some mythical or symbolical personality invoked in the opening word.
Often the person chosen was in very truth a noble of the rank assigned,
but the custom of opening the envoy in this fashion grew so common that
it lost its special fitness, and was often employed as a conventional
ascription to those not of noble rank, while in some instances all
the lovers' ballades intended for their own ladies were yet ascribed
by the poets to the "Princess" of the court, who quite understood the
fiction employed, and accepted praise of the golden hair and blue eyes
of the rightful owner of the poem, while possibly her royal tresses
were black and her eyes brown. In the number of ballades included
in this collection the larger number will still be found to follow
the old custom, which is so marked that the use of this dedication
certainly carries out the spirit of the poem, in accordance with its
original design. The envoy is not only a dedication, but should be the
peroration of the subject, and richer in its wording and more stately
in its imagery than the preceding verses, to convey the climax of the
whole matter, and avoid the suspicion that it is a mere postscript, as
it were, to the ballade.
In the ballade with stanzas of ten lines, usually of ten syllables
each, four rhymes are permitted in this order--A, B, A, B, B, C, C,
D, C, D, with C, C, D, C, D for the envoy. It is not needful to quote
examples, or describe varieties with eight or ten-lined stanzas, that
have lines of equal or unequal length, but in other respects follow
all the true rules. De Gramont has observed that the strict laws of
the _ballade_ belong more to the prosodists who studied the form
after it had ceased to be in current use, and that the writers of the
_ballade_ themselves frequently took great liberty. In some by Marot
there are verses of eleven or twelve decasyllabic lines, and in poets
who preceded him, some with thirteen and fourteen lines to the stanza,
while the number of verses has also been flagrantly disregarded, some
even using four or five verses, and still worse, having different
rhymes to them; but in such cases the poem must not be regarded as an
irregular ballade, nor a ballade at all, but simply as a set of verses
with refrain.
The _Ballade with double refrain_, of which the "Frere Lubin" of
Clement Marot is the only well-known example in old French, is said
by Thomas Sibilet, in his _Art Poétique_, 1555, to be "_autant rare
que plaisante_." Its point of difference is that a second refrain is
introduced at the fourth line of each stanza, and the second of the
envoy. This necessarily alters the order of the rhymes of the envoy.
In the best known English example the rhyme order is A, B, A, B, B,
C, B, C, with B, B, C, C, for the envoy. There are several in modern
English, and some in recent French.
The _Double Ballade_ consists of six stanzas of eight or ten lines, and
is written usually without an envoy. The "Ballade of Dead Lions," in
_London_, January 12, 1878, was the first English specimen; it is not
quoted here, as its subject is now out of date. De Banville has written
several. "_Pour les bonnes gens_," "_Des sottises de Paris_" are two in
his "_Trente-six Ballades Joyeuses_" written in this form.
M. de Banville humorously reveals a secret of the poet's workshop,
and gives a method to construct a "correct" ballade in a mechanical
fashion, dispensing with genius, and easy to work--First, at one
sitting write the last half of all the verses, and at another time
the first half, then join them together, and the result will be an
irremediably bad ballade; but elsewhere he writes, in all seriousness
this time, "All the art is to bring in the refrain without effort,
naturally, gaily, and at each time with novel effect and with fresh
light cast on the central idea. 'Now you can' teach 'no one to do that,
and M. de Banville never pretends to give any receipts for cooking
_rondels_ or _ballades_ worth reading.' Without poetic vision all is
mere marqueterie and cabinetmaker's work; that is, so far as poetry is
concerned, nothing."[7]
[7] A. Lang on De Banville, _New Quarterly Magazine_, Oct. 1878.
The CHANT ROYAL is now accepted by most writers as merely a larger
form of the ballade, written with five verses of eleven lines, and
envoi of five. De Gramont treats the idea to regard it as a distinct
form as a mere fanciful attempt of prosodists, founded chiefly on the
fact that Clement Marot has left four so named which conform to the
above rule; but he shows that on the one hand there are ballades with
stanzas of eleven lines, and on the other chants royal with ten only.
It has been suggested that the _Chant Royal_ derived its name from
the subjects that are more usually dedicated to its use; but while
these are generally sublime topics treated in dignified allegory, yet
there are examples extant entirely devoid of these characteristics.
Again, the idea that it owes its name to being a form selected for
competition before the king for the dignity of laureate, and hence
dubbed royal-song, he also rejects, and points out that its name
simply denotes that it is the most excellent form of the ballade (as
we might say, the "king of ballades" in English), one that, from
the increased length, both in stanzas and number of lines in each,
largely augments the difficulties of construction met with in the
true ballade, and marks it as "the final _tour de force_ of poetic
composition." Henry de Croï derives the title of this form from the
fact that persons excelling in the composition of chants royal were
worthy to be crowned with garlands like conquerors and kings. It is
a moot point with students whether the ballade or chant royal is the
earlier and original poem. The chant royal in the old form is usually
devoted to the unfolding of an allegory in its five stanzas, the envoy
supplying the key; but this is not always observed in modern examples.
Whatever be the subject, however, it must always march in stately
rhythm with splendid imagery, using all the poetic adornments of
sonorous, highly-wrought lines and rich embroidery of words to clothe
a theme in itself a lofty one. Unless the whole poem is constructed
with intense care, and has intrinsic beauty of its own of no mean
order, the monotony of its sixty-one lines rhymed on five sounds is
unbearable. In spite of the increased burden imposed by the necessity
of so many similar rhymes, no shadow of "poetic" or other license must
be taken. Nothing short of complete success can warrant the choice of
this exacting form, which demands all that can be given to it; enriched
with all the elaboration of consummate art in its every detail, and
rising stanza by stanza, until the climax is reached in the envoy.
The laws of the ballade apply to the chant royal, with some added
details of its own. The rhyme order is usually--a, b, a, b, c, c, d, d,
e, d, e, with envoy of d, d, e, d, e. An example by Deschamps, "_Sur le
mort du Seigneur de Coucy_," observes this order, a, b, a, b, b, c, c,
d, c, d, and envoy, c, c, d, c, c, d. In either case the rhyme-order
must be kept the same for each stanza, and the envoy commenced with an
invocation as in the old ballades.
CHAIN VERSE.--There is one beautiful poem in so-called chain verse,
which has so much likeness to these once-exotic forms that it deserves
quotation in full, if only as an example of a native specimen of poetic
ingenuity. It has little affinity with the chain verse of French art,
as then the one word only grew from each line into the other (La rime
Enchaînée).
Dieu des Amans, de mort me garde
Me gardant donne-moi bonheur,
Et me le donnant prend ta darde
Et la prenant navre son coeur
Et le navrant me tiendras seur.
* * * * *
--_Clement Marot._
The following hymn was written by John Byrom, and published in vol. ii.
of his _Posthumous Poems_, 1773:--
THE DESPONDING SOUL'S WISH.
My spirit longeth for Thee,
Within my troubled breast,
Although I be unworthy
Of so Divine a Guest.
Of so Divine a Guest
Unworthy though I be,
Yet has my heart no rest,
Unless it comes from Thee.
Unless it comes from Thee,
In vain I look around;
In all that I can see
No rest is to be found.
No rest is to be found
But in thy blessèd love:
Oh, let my wish be crowned,
And send it from above.
_The Answer._
Cheer up, desponding soul,
Thy longing pleased I see:
'Tis part of that great whole
Wherewith I longed for Thee.
Wherewith I longed for Thee
And left my Father's throne,
From death to set thee free,
To claim thee for my own.
To claim thee for my own
I suffered on the cross:
O! were my love but known,
No soul need fear its loss.
No soul need fear its loss,
But, filled with love divine,
Would die on its own cross
And rise for ever thine.
This has so many points resembling the forms in this book, that it
seemed worth quoting, if only to compare with the Malay Pantoum, the
Villanelle, and the Rondel.
KYRIELLE.--The _Kyrielle_ is so simple, and so widely used by writers,
all unwittingly, that but for M. de Banville including it, it would
be left unnoticed here. It is merely a poem in four-lined verses of
eight-syllable lines, having the last line of each the same. Our hymn
books show many, witness "Jesus! Son of Mary, hear," or "Jesus, our
Love, is crucified." It is a device so evident that it has naturally
been used in almost all schools of poetry, and may be dismissed with no
more words here.
PANTOUM.--The _Pantoum_, at first sight, has little reason for being
included in a volume of verse in strict traditional forms, that are
nearly all of French origin, since it is of Malay invention; but being
introduced by M. Ernest Fouinet, and reproduced by M. Victor Hugo in
the _Orientales_, it has found a place in the group of these forms
given by De Banville, De Gramont, and others. The Pantoum is written in
four-line stanzas. The second and fourth line of each verse form the
first and third of each succeeding one, through an indefinite number of
quatrains. At the close, to complete the unity of the work, the second
and fourth line of the last stanza are made from the first and third of
the first verse. The rhymes are a b, a b,--b c, b c,--c d, c d,--d e,
d e, and so on, until the last (which we may call z) z a, z a. In Mr.
Austin Dobson's "In Town" and Mr. Brander Matthews' "En route"--as the
latter himself points out in _The Rhymester_--"there is an attempt to
make the constant repetitions not merely tolerable but subservient to
the general effect of monotonously recurrent sound--in the one case the
buzzing of the fly, and in the other the rattle and strain of the cars."
THE RONDEL, RONDEAU, and ROUNDEL, a group having a common origin, are
now to some extent classified, by each accepted variety using one form
of the common name to denote its shape, but this division is purely
arbitrary and a modern custom, only followed here, both in these notes
and in the arrangement of the volume itself, to facilitate reference.
The RONDEL is merely the old form of the word rondeau; like _oisel_ for
_oiseau_, _chastel_ for _chateau_ so _rondel_ has become _rondeau_.
It is one of the earliest of these forms, and freely used in the
fourteenth century by Froissart, Eustache Deschamps, and others. It
probably arose in Provence, and passed afterwards into use in Northern
France. The name (rondel) is still applied to forms written after its
early shape, the later spelling of the name being kept for the more
recent variations of its form. In its origin, the rondel was a lyric
of two verses, each having four or five lines, rhyming on two rhymes
only. In its eight (or ten) lines, but five (or six) were distinct,
the others being made by repeating the first couplet at the end of the
second stanza, sometimes in an inverse order, and the first line at
the end of its first stanza. The eight-lined rondel is thus, to all
intents and purposes, a triolet, although labelled a rondel. Here is a
fourteenth century one by Eustache Deschamps:--
Est ce donc vostre intencion
De voloir retrancher mes gaiges
Vingt livres de ma pension?
Est-ce donc vostre intencion?
Laissez passer l'Ascension,
Que honni soit vostre visaige!
Est-ce donc vostre intencion
De voloir retrancher mes gaiges?
Nor are these rondel-triolets exceptions; they are quite common till
the beginning of the fifteenth century. With Charles d'Orléans the
rondel took the distinct shape we now assign to it, namely, of fourteen
lines on two rhymes, the first two lines repeating for the seventh
and eighth, and the final couplet (see page 135). In this, the true
type of the rondel, the two-lined refrain occurring three times in its
fourteen makes it an unwieldy form to handle. In later French ones the
last refrain uses but one of its lines. In Mr. Austin Dobson's "The
Wanderer," the rhymes are in this order:--A. B. b. a.--a. b. A. B.--a.
b. b. a. A. (the refrain being marked by capital letters). In another
by the same author, "How hard it is to Sing," the rhyme order is A. B.
a. b.--b. a. A. B.--a. b. a. b. A. B.; the rondel of Charles d'Orléans
having A. B. b. a. a. b. A. B.--a. b. b. a. A. B. The length of the
lines is not confined to any particular number of syllables in modern
examples.
By the time of Octavien de Saint Gelais (1466-1502) the rondel has
nearly become the rondeau as we know it. Still rhymed on but two
sounds, it repeats the first line only, nor always the whole of that,
as the quoted examples show:--
De ce qui est au pouvoir de Fortune
Nul ne se doit vanter ny tenir fort:
Car ung jour sert de plaisir et confort,
Et l'autre après, de courroux et rancune.
Aux ungs est bonne, aux autres importune,
Estrange à tous, car nuls n'entent le sort
De ce qui est au pouvoir de Fortune.
Les ungs ont d'elle honneur, scavoir, pecune;
L'autres n'ònt que pitié et remort,
Et povreté, qu'est pire que la mort.
Est-il aucun qui soit seur soubz la lune
De ce qui est au pouvoir de Fortune?
Here it is formally divided into three parts with the rhymes--a, b,
b, a; a, b, a; a, b, b, a, a. The refrain, too, is no longer a mere
reiteration of the text, but linked with the preceding verse, as a
refrain should be, and absorbed into the sense of the whole stanza to
which it belongs. This change is still more noticeable in the rondel,
using but half the first line for its refrain, as in this example:--
Je vous arreste de main mise.
Mes yeulx; emprisonnez serez.
Plus mon coeur ne gouvernerez
Desormais, je vous en advise.
Trop avez fait à vostre guise;
Par ma foy plus ne le ferez,
Je vous arreste.
On peut bien pour vous corner prise:
Pris estes, point n' eschapperez.
Nul remede n'y treuverez;
Rien n'y vault appel ne franchise:
Je vous arreste.
Here we pass into the later form called (for convenience only) the
_Rondeau_. In these few examples the evolution of the _Voiture_ type,
from the Charles d'Orléans original, is clearly traceable. The rondel,
however, still continues to be used, but much less frequently. De
Banville often omits the thirteenth line, while otherwise following the
model of Charles d'Orléans. Again, the order of the rhymes is sometimes
changed, but the examples quoted in this collection will show more
clearly the deviations from the true rondel than any description would
do.
The RONDEAU after Voiture's model is without doubt the most popular
variety of the form now in use. It is written throughout on two rhymes,
being composed of thirteen lines and two unrhymed refrains. The lines
are now nearly always of eight syllables only, in many of the old ones
they were of ten. The refrain is usually made from the first half of
the first line, but it is not uncommon to find the first word only
taken for this use. Its thirteen lines are grouped in three stanzas,
the first and third having five lines each, the second consisting of
three only. The refrain occurs at the end of the second stanza, and at
the close of the poem. The usual rhyme order is a, a, b, b, a,----a,
a, b (and refrain)--a, a, b, b, a, and refrain. The refrain is not
counted among the lines of the verse, but is added to the thirteen, and
in the neatness of its introduction, and in the way each of the two
verses to which it belongs flow into it, so that it forms an integral
and inseparable part of the stanza, the chief difficulty of the rondeau
lies. If, like an "Amen" to a hymn, the refrain comes merely as an
extraneous comment on the preceding lines, it is no true rondeau. At
the risk of reiteration of a warning given in the description of each
of these poems that use a refrain, this point must be insisted on, as
the most vital one. The mechanical laws of the poem may be obeyed with
scrupulous exactitude, and every technical rule complied with, while
the still more important quality of sense is overlooked. The thought
of the poet must so find its expression that the refrain completes
it, and forms the true climax of his speech--the culminating phrase
of his sentence. The refrain is the very text of the whole discourse,
in itself an epitome of the subject of the whole poem, otherwise the
reason for its existence in one of these fixed shapes is wanting, and
the poem would be better in free verse. In the refrain the sound must
reappear exactly, but the sense may be altered; in fact, this playful
variation of its meaning is one of the charms of the verse when used
for lighter and more dainty subjects. The good taste of the author must
decide how far an actual pun is allowable. There are precedents for the
use of the pun pure and simple--"votre beau thé" "vòtre beauté," or, "à
la fontaine," used in its literal sense, and also with reference to the
famous fabulist. But in English use the pun has fallen into disrepute,
perhaps from the execrable word-contortions of our so-called comic
papers and its terrible vulgarity in stage burlesques, the intrusion
of one is fatal to the delicacy and refinement which are the peculiar
charm of the rondeau. But if a play upon words of a scholarly kind, or
a new reading given either by punctuation, or the use of the words
with a new light thrown on them by the lines leading up to the refrain,
can be secured, every effort should be made to vary the refrain by so
doing.
This quality of dainty and spontaneous wit is the secret of the
rondeau, only revealed, if it is to be found at all, by close analysis
of the best examples. De Banville quotes three of Voiture's--"Je ne
sçaurois," "L'Amour," and "Penser"--especially for this all-important
feature; but in this volume may be found examples equally worthy of
study. It would be invidious to draw attention to the best of those
that have been allowed to appear here, but if the wit of the would-be
rondeau-maker fails to discover the successful use of the refrain, and
to pick out the best examples, it is in itself evidence that he had
better abstain from trying to produce rondeaus that would certainly
lack the airy grace and caressing tenderness which should be an element
of this verse. A famous example of Voiture's is quoted on page 134.
The following is its English paraphrase by Mr. Austin Dobson, withdrawn
from his later editions, but quoted now by his consent:--
You bid me try, BLUE-EYES, to write
A Rondeau. What! forthwith?--To-night?
Reflect. Some skill I have, 'tis true;
But thirteen lines!--and rhymed on two!--
"Refrain," as well. Ah, hapless plight!
Still there are five lines--ranged aright.
These Gallic bonds, I feared, would fright
My easy Muse. They did, till you--
_You_ bid me try!
"That makes them eight.--The port's in sight:
Tis all because your eyes are bright!
Now just a pair to end in "oo,"--
When maids command, what can't we do!
Behold! The RONDEAU--tasteful, light--
You bid me try!"
A study of rondeaus will show, both in ancient and modern examples,
some little alteration of the rhyme-order, and a few trivial
differences in other respects. But as the sonnet has evolved through
many stages into one accepted shape that is now permanently fixed as
its true type, so the rondeau of Voiture may be taken as the typical
form to be imitated--the one that has, by process of selection,
been proved to be the best to display the subject of the poem, and
to work-in the refrains to the best advantage. Like the sonnet, the
perfected form is jealously guarded. The genius which consists in
breaking rules is looked upon with suspicion in all these forms, but
especially in this one. There are some beautiful variations in old
and new examples where the shape is widely varied, but these stand
apart from the pure rondeaus of Voiture, and are generally still
more difficult to construct by reason of the additional laws the
writers have imposed on themselves. But the trifling evasion of the
rhyme-order, a want of exactitude on the repetition of the refrain,
is apt to be taken as evidence of lack of power to conform gracefully
to the bonds, and not as an outburst of genius that is too strong
to be confined in such puny fetters. But there are a few _poems_ in
these forms written fairly near the true shape, which, like some
irregular, but yet in themselves beautiful sonnets, are not to be
condemned solely for being impure in form. For the sake of poetry one
is ready to forgive much, but it must be only real _poetry_ that takes
such liberty; and all the time comes a wish that having gone so near
perfection of shape as well as of sense, the poet had taken the last
steps needful to make his poem perfect in each respect.
There is another form than Voiture's, which is equally a true
rondeau--that used by Villon. This is quoted, with Mr. Payne's
translation, to show clearly the ten-lined rondeau:--
LAY OU PLUTOST RONDEAU.
Mort, j'appelle de ta rigueur,
Qui m'as ma maistresse ravie,
Et n'es pas encore assouvie,
Se tu ne me tiens en langueur.
Onc puis n'euz force ne vigueur
Mais que te nuysoit-elle en vie,
Mort?
Deux estions, et n'avions qu'ung cueur;
S'il est mort, force est que devie,
Voire, ou que je vive sans vie,
Comme les images, par cueur.
Mort!
--_François Villon._
LAY, OR RATHER RONDEAU.
Death, of thy rigour I complain,
That hast my lady torn from me,
And yet wilt not contented be,
Till from me too all strength be ta'en
For languishment of heart and brain.
What harm did she in life to thee,
Death?
One heart we had betwixt us twain;
Which being dead, I too must dree
Death, or, like carven saints we see
In choir, sans life to live be fain,
Death!
--_John Payne._
Mr. Austin Dobson's _Rose_, which appeared in _The Spectator_, was one
of the earliest, if not the very first, of the few examples of this
variety in English use.