_Rondel_ is the old French form of the word _rondeau_, and the terms are
therefore naturally interchangeable. They have been applied to a number
of different forms, all characterized by a refrain so repeated as to
link together different parts of the structure. Two of these forms are
particularly familiar. The first (called more commonly the _rondel_)
consists of fourteen lines, with only two rimes; the first two lines
constitute the refrain, and are commonly repeated as the seventh and
eighth and again as the thirteenth and fourteenth. The rime-scheme
varies, but is often _ABba, abAB, abbaAB_ (the capitals indicating the
repeated lines of the refrain). Sometimes the form is shortened to
thirteen lines, the second line of the refrain not being repeated at the
close. The second principal form (called more commonly the _rondeau_)
consists of thirteen lines, with two rimes, and an unrimed refrain,
taken from the opening words of the first line, which follows the eighth
line and is again repeated at the end. The common rime-scheme is
_aabba,aab (refrain), aabba (refrain)_. Both these forms are found in
early French poetry, together with many variations. The modern
distinction between _rondeau_ and _rondel_ is artificial but
convenient.
i. _"Rondel" Type_
Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,
That hast this wintres weders over-shake,
And driven awey the longe nightes blake!
Seynt Valentyn, that art ful hy on-lofte,
Thus singen smale foules for thy sake:
Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,
That hast this wintres weders over-shake.
Wel han they cause for to gladen ofte,
Sith ech of hem recovered hath his make;
Ful blisful may they singen whan they wake:
Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,
That hast this wintres weders over-shake,
And driven awey the longe nightes blake.
(CHAUCER: _Qui bien aime a tard oublie_, in _The Parlement of Foules_,
ll. 680-692. ab. 1380.)
This is the "roundel" sung by the birds "to do Nature honour and
plesaunce." "The note" we are told was made in France. It will be seen
that Chaucer employs a form with three-line refrain, of which the first
two lines are twice repeated, the last only once: _ABB,abAB,abbABB_. The
same form is used in the three roundels of _Merciles Beaute_.
Too hard it is to sing
In these untuneful times,
When only coin can ring,
And no one cares for rhymes!
Alas! for him who climbs
To Aganippe's spring:--
Too hard it is to sing
In these untuneful times!
His kindred clip his wing;
His feet the critic limes;
If Fame her laurel bring
Old age his forehead rimes:--
Too hard it is to sing
In these untuneful times!
(AUSTIN DOBSON: _Too hard it is to sing._)
Underneath this tablet rest,
Grasshopper by autumn slain,
Since thine airy summer nest
Shivers under storm and rain.
Freely let it be confessed
Death and slumber bring thee gain
Spared from winter's fret and pain,
Underneath this tablet rest.
Myro found thee on the plain,
Bore thee in her lawny breast,
Reared this marble tomb amain
To receive so small a guest!
Underneath this tablet rest,
Grasshopper by autumn slain.
(EDMUND GOSSE: _After Anyte of Tegea._)
In this the second line of the refrain is omitted where we should expect
it as line eight, the scheme of the first part of the rondel being
changed to _ABab, abbA_.
The ways of Death are soothing and serene,
And all the words of Death are grave and sweet.
From camp and church, the fireside and the street,
She signs to come, and strife and song have been.
A summer night descending, cool and green
And dark, on daytime's dust and stress and heat,
The ways of Death are soothing and serene,
And all the words of Death are grave and sweet.
O glad and sorrowful, with triumphant mien
And hopeful faces look upon and greet
This last of all your lovers, and to meet
Her kiss, the Comforter's, your spirit lean.--
The ways of Death are soothing and serene.
(W. E. HENLEY: _The Ways of Death._)
ii. _"Rondeau" Type_
Ma foi, c'est fait de moi, car Isabeau
M'a conjuré de lui faire un rondeau.
Cela me met en peine extrême.
Quoi! treize vers, huit en _-èau_, cinq en _-ème!_
Je lui ferais aussitôt un bateau.
En voilà cinq pourtant en un monceau,
Faisons-en huit, en invoquant Brodeau,
Et puis mettons, par quelque stratagème:
Ma foi, c'est fait.
Si je pouvais encore de mon cerveau
Tirer cinq vers, l'ouvrage serait beau;
Mais cependant je suis dedans l'onzième:
Et si je crois que je fais le douzième,
En voilà treize ajustés au niveau.
Ma foi, c'est fait!
(VOITURE: _Rondeau_, ab. 1640. In _[OE]uvres de Voiture_, ed. Ubicini,
vol. ii. p. 314.)
This is perhaps the most famous of rondeaus of the type which Voiture
did much to make popular.
What no pardy ye may be sure
Thinck not to make me to yor lure
With wordes and chere so contrarieng
Swete and sowre contrewaing
To much it were still to endure
Trouth is tryed where craft is in ure
But though ye have had my herte cure
Trow ye I dote withoute ending
What no pardy
Though that with pain I do procure
For to forgett that ons was pure
Wtin my hert shall still that thing
Unstable unsure and wavering
Be in my mynde without recure
What no pardye.
(SIR THOMAS WYATT: Rondeau in Wyatt MS., reproduced in _Anglia_, vol.
xviii. p. 478. ab. 1540.)
Besides the rondeaus found in the Wyatt MS., three poems of Wyatt's,
published in Tottel's _Songs and Sonnets_ (1557), were evidently
intended as rondeaus (see Arber's Reprint, pp. 53, 73). The editor, not
understanding the form or thinking it too unfamiliar to be popular,
seems to have changed it to a sort of sonnet, omitting the refrain at
the end and making a complete line of it as the ninth of the poem. These
hidden rondeaus were discussed by Mr. Dobson in the _Athenæum_ for 1878
(vol. i. p. 380); see also Alscher's _Sir Thomas Wyatt und seine
Stellung_, etc.
Thou fool! if madness be so rife,
That, spite of wit, thou'lt have a wife,
I'll tell thee what thou must expect--
After the honeymoon neglect,
All the sad days of thy whole life;
To that a world of woe and strife,
Which is of marriage the effect--
And thou thy woe's own architect,
Thou fool!
Thou'lt nothing find but disrespect,
Ill words i' th' scolding dialect,
For she'll all tabor be, or fife;
Then prythee go and whet thy knife,
And from this fate thyself protect,
Thou fool!
(CHARLES COTTON: _Rondeau._ ab. 1675. Quoted by Guest, _English
Rhythms_, Skeat ed., p. 645.)
A good rondeau I was induced to show
To some fair ladies some short while ago;
Well knowing their ability and taste,
I asked should aught be added or effaced,
And prayed that every fault they'd make me know.
The first did her most anxious care bestow
To impress one point from which I ne'er should go:
"Upon a good beginning must be based
A good rondeau."
Zeal bid the other's choicest language glow:
She softly said: "Recount your weal or woe,
Your every subject, free from pause or haste;
Ne'er let your hero fail, nor be disgraced."
The third: "With varying emphasis should flow
A good rondeau."
(J. R. BEST: _Ung Bon Rondeau_, in _Rondeaulx_. Translated from the
French, ed. 1527. 1838. Quoted in _Ballades and Rondeaus_, Introduction,
p. xxxviii.)
Death, of thee do I make my moan,
Who hadst my lady away from me,
Nor wilt assuage thine enmity
Till with her life thou hast my own;
For since that hour my strength has flown.
Lo! what wrong was her life to thee,
Death?
Two we were, and the heart was one;
Which now being dead, dead I must be,
Or seem alive as lifelessly
As in the choir the painted stone,
Death!
(ROSSETTI: _To Death, of his Lady_, from the French of Villon, 1450.)
This represents an early short form of the rondeau.
With pipe and flute the rustic Pan
Of old made music sweet for man;
And wonder hushed the warbling bird,
And closer drew the calm-eyed herd,--
The rolling river slowlier ran.
Ah! would,--ah! would, a little span,
Some air of Arcady could fan
This age of ours, too seldom stirred
With pipe and flute!
But now for gold we plot and plan;
And from Beersheba unto Dan
Apollo's self might pass unheard,
Or find the night-jar's note preferred.--
Not so it fared, when time began
With pipe and flute!
(AUSTIN DOBSON: _With Pipe and Flute._)
What is to come we know not. But we know
That what has been was good--was good to show,
Better to hide, and best of all to bear.
We are the masters of the days that were:
We have lived, we have loved, we have suffered--even so.
Shall we not take the ebb who had the flow?
Life was our friend. Now, if it be our foe--
Dear, though it break and spoil us!--need we care
What is to come?
Let the great winds their worst and wildest blow,
Or the gold weather round us mellow slow:
We have fulfilled ourselves, and we can dare
And we can conquer, though we may not share
In the rich quiet of the afterglow
What is to come.
(W. E. HENLEY: _What is to Come._)
A man must live! We justify
Low shift and trick to treason high,
A little vote for a little gold,
To a whole senate bought and sold,
With this self-evident reply.
But is it so? Pray tell me why
Life at such cost you have to buy?
In what religion were you told
"A man must live"?
There are times when a man must die.
Imagine for a battle-cry
From soldiers with a sword to hold--
From soldiers with the flag unrolled--
This coward's whine, this liar's lie,
"A man must live"!
(CHARLOTTE PERKINS STETSON: _A Man Must Live._)
A Roundel is wrought as a ring or a starbright sphere,
With craft of delight and with cunning of sound unsought,
That the heart of the hearer may smile if to pleasure his ear
A roundel is wrought.
Its jewel of music is carven of all or of aught--
Love, laughter, or mourning--remembrance of rapture or fear--
That fancy may fashion to hang in the ear of thought.
As a bird's quick song runs round, and the hearts in us hear--
Pause answers to pause, and again the same strain caught,
So moves the device whence, round as a pearl or tear,
A roundel is wrought.
(SWINBURNE: _The Roundel_, in _A Century of Roundels_.)
Mr. Swinburne has reintroduced the old word-form "roundel," to
distinguish this style of rondeau, of his own devising, with nine long
lines, riming _aba, bab, aba_, the refrain riming also with the _b_
lines.