The ballade commonly consists of three stanzas, with an envoy. In modern
usage the stanzas usually contain either eight or ten lines, and the
envoy half as many as the stanza; but in earlier usage both stanza and
envoy varied, and the latter might be omitted altogether. The rimes in
all the stanzas must be identical in the corresponding lines, but the
riming words must be different. The most characteristic element is the
refrain,--the keynote of the poem,--which forms the last line of each
stanza, including the envoy. The favorite rime-scheme for the eight-line
stanza is _ababbcbc_, with the envoy _bcbc_. Mr. White says of the envoy
that it "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."
Flee fro the prees, and dwelle with sothfastnesse,
Suffyce unto thy good, though hit be smal;
For hord hath hate, and climbing tikelnesse,
Prees hath envye, and wele blent overal;
Savour no more than thee bihove shal;
Werk wel thy-self, that other folk canst rede;
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.
Tempest thee noght al croked to redresse,
In trust of hir that turneth as a bal:
Gret reste slant in litel besinesse;
And eek be war to sporne ageyn an al;
Stryve noght, as doth the crokke with the wal.
Daunte thy-self, that dauntest otheres dede;
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.
That thee is sent, receyve in buxumnesse;
The wrastling for this worlde axeth a fal.
Her nis non hoom, her nis but wildernesse:
Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beste, out of thy stal!
Know thy contree, look up, thank God of al;
Hold the hye wey, and lat thy gost thee lede:
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.
_Envoy_
Therfore, thou vache, leve thyn old wrecchednesse
Unto the worlde; leve now to be thral;
Crye him mercy, that of his hy goodnesse
Made thee of noght, and in especial
Draw unto him, and pray in general
For thee, and eek for other, hevenlich mede;
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.
(CHAUCER: _Balade de bon conseyl._ ab. 1385.)
Here Chaucer follows the rules of the ballade carefully, but in the
"rime royal" stanza. It will be noticed that the rime-word "al" seems to
be repeated, but it is used each time in a distinct sense,
hence--according to the rules of Chaucer's time, as of modern French--is
regarded as a different rime-word each time.
Compare, also, Chaucer's _Fortune_ ("_Balades de visage sanz
peinture_"), made of three ballades, with one envoy; the _Balade to
Rosemound_ and _Moral Balade on Gentilesse_, without envoys; the
ballades on _Lak of Stedfastnesse_ and the _Compleint of Chaucer to
his Empty Purse_, with envoys addressed to the king; also the
ballade in the Prologue to the _Legend of Good Women_, B-text, ll.
249-269. The _Compleynt of Venus_, like _Fortune_, is in three
ballades, with one envoy, and is of special interest as being based
on three French ballades of Graunson.[48] Says Chaucer:
"And eek to me hit is a greet penaunce,
Sith rym in English hath swich scarsitee,
To folowe word by word the curiositee
Of Graunson, flour of hem that make in Fraunce."
In the Prologue to the _Legend of Good Women_, when Chaucer is
accused by the god of love for his translation of the _Romance of
the Rose_, Alcestis defends him by enumerating his other works,
which include:
"many an ympne for your halydayes,
That highten Balades, Roundels, Virelayes."
(B-text, ll. 422 f.)
On the roundels, see below; none of Chaucer's virelays have come
down to us. Chaucer's contemporary, John Gower, also wrote
ballades, but in French.
Tell me now in what hidden way is
Lady Flora the lovely Roman?
Where's Hipparcha, and where is Thais,
Neither of them the fairer woman?
Where is Echo, beheld of no man,
Only heard on river and mere,--
She whose beauty was more than human?--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
Where's Héloise, the learned nun,
For whose sake Abeillard, I ween,
Lost manhood and put priesthood on?
(From love he won such dule and teen!)
And where, I pray you, is the Queen
Who willed that Buridan should steer
Sewed in a sack's mouth down the Seine?--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
White Queen Blanche, like a queen of lilies,
With a voice like any mermaiden,--
Bertha Broadfoot, Beatrice, Alice,
And Ermengarde the lady of Maine,--
And that good Joan whom Englishmen
At Rouen doomed and burned her there,--
Mother of God, where are they then?--
But where are the snows of yester-year?--
Nay, never ask this week, fair lord,
Where they are gone, nor yet this year,
Except with this for an overword,--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
(ROSSETTI: _The Ballad of Dead Ladies_, from the French of François
Villon, 1450.)
This is a notable translation of a notable ballade, but it will be
observed that it does not follow the strict rules as to the number of
rimes. In Mr. Andrew Lang's _Ballades of Blue China_ is a formally
correct translation.
Where are the cities of the plain?
And where the shrines of rapt Bethel?
And Calah, built of Tubal-Cain?
And Shinar whence King Amraphal
Came out in arms, and fought, and fell,
Decoyed into the pits of slime
By Siddim, and sent sheer to hell;
Where are the cities of old time?
Where now is Karnak, that great fane
With granite built, a miracle?
And Luxor smooth without a stain,
Whose graven scriptures still we spell?
The jackal and the owl may tell,
Dark snakes around their ruins climb,
They fade like echo in a shell;
Where are the cities of old time?
And where is white Shusan, again,
Where Vashti's beauty bore the bell,
And all the Jewish oil and grain
Were brought to Mithridath to sell,
Where Nehemiah would not dwell,
Because another town sublime
Decoyed him with her oracle?
Where are the cities of old time?
_Envoy_
Prince, with a dolorous, ceaseless knell,
Above their wasted toil and crime
The waters of oblivion swell:
Where are the cities of old time?
(EDMUND GOSSE: _Ballad of Dead Cities._)
In this ballade Mr. Gosse finely reproduces the more serious tones of
the old form, and imitates the ancient custom of addressing the envoy to
royalty. This _motif_, of old things lost, is a favorite one for the
serious ballade, being suggested by Villon's _Ballade of Dead Ladies_.
Compare Mr. Lang's _Ballade of Dead Cities_, in _Ballades of Blue
China_.
On the other hand, the next specimen illustrates the use of the form for
the light familiarity of _vers de société_ and parody.
He lived in a cave by the seas,
He lived upon oysters and foes,
But his list of forbidden degrees
An extensive morality shows;
Geological evidence goes
To prove he had never a pan,
But he shaved with a shell when he chose,
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man!
He worshipp'd the rain and the breeze,
He worshipp'd the river that flows,
And the Dawn, and the Moon, and the trees,
And bogies, and serpents, and crows;
He buried his dead with their toes
Tucked up, an original plan,
Till their knees came right under their nose,
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man!
His communal wives, at his ease,
He would curb with occasional blows;
Or his state had a queen, like the bees
(As another philosopher trows):
When he spoke it was never in prose,
But he sang in a strain that would scan,
For (to doubt it, perchance, were morose)
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man!
_Envoy_
Max, proudly your Aryans pose,
But their rigs they undoubtedly ran,
For, as every Darwinian knows,
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man!
(ANDREW LANG: _Ballade of Primitive Man._)
In Mr. Lang's _Ballades of Blue China_ this appears as a _double
ballade_, with three more stanzas.
From the sunny climes of France,
Flying to the west,
Came a flock of birds by chance,
There to sing and rest:
Of some secrets deep in quest,--
Justice for their wrongs,--
Seeking one to shield their breast,
One to write their songs.
Melodies of old romance,
Joy and gentle jest,
Notes that made the dull heart dance
With a merry zest;--
Maids in matchless beauty drest,
Youths in happy throngs;--
These they sang to tempt and test
One to write their songs.
In old London's wide expanse
Built each feathered guest,--
Man's small pleasure to entrance,
Singing him to rest,--
Came, and tenderly confessed,
Perched on leafy prongs,
Life were sweet if they possessed
One to write their songs.
_Envoy_
Austin, it was you they blest:
Fame to you belongs!
Time has proven you're the best
One to write their songs.
(FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN: _To Austin Dobson._)
Mr. Austin Dobson is said to have been the first to reintroduce the
ballade into English poetry, and the present specimen is a tribute to
his success by an American poet.
Bird of the bitter bright gray golden morn
Scarce risen upon the dusk of dolorous years,
First of us all and sweetest singer born
Whose far shrill note the world of new men hears
Cleave the cold shuddering shade as twilight clears;
When song new-born put off the old world's attire
And felt its tune on her changed lips expire,
Writ foremost on the roll of them that came
Fresh girt for service of the latter lyre,
Villon, our sad bad glad mad brother's name!
(SWINBURNE: _Ballad of François Villon, Prince of all Ballad-Makers_,
st. i.)
This specimen represents the ballade in ten-line stanzas.
There is also an extended form of the ballade, called the _Chant Royal_,
with five stanzas and envoy, the stanzas consisting of eleven verses.
The usual rime-scheme is _ababccddede_, with envoy _ddede_. For
admirable specimens, see Mr. Dobson's _Dance of Death_ and Mr. Gosse's
_Praise of Dionysus_, in _Ballades and Rondeaus_, pp. 98, 100. Mr. White
says of this form: "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, the monotony of its sixty-one lines rhymed on five sounds is
unbearable." (_Ballades and Rondeaus_, Introduction, p. liv.)