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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,
Thou hast this wintres weders over-shake,
And driven away the longe nightes blake.

Thomas Hoccleve and John Lydgate took advantage also of the newly introduced French fixed verse form. Hoccleve's rowndel is a clumsier welcome to summer than Chaucer's. The scribe who set down the lines did not trouble to repeat the refrain in full, though the poem is evidently like Chaucer's roundels in structure.

Somer that rypest mannes sustenance

With holsum hete of the sonnes warmnesse,
Al kynde of man thee holden is to blesse

Ay thankid be thy freendly gouernance,

And thy fressh look of mirthe & of gladnesse!
Somer & c

To heuy folk of thee the remembraunce

Is salue & oynement to hir seeknesse.

For why we thus shal synge in Christemesse,
Somer & c

Lydgate celebrated the entry of Henry VI into London after his coronation in France by the composition of a rondel which has come down to us in fragmentary form, but which has been restored by a German scholar to read:

Sovereigne lord, welcome to youre citee!

Welcome oure joye, and oure hertes plesaunce!
Welcome oure gladness, welcome oure suffisaunce!
Welcome! welcome! righte welcome mot ye be!

Singyng to fforn thi rialle majeste,
We say of hert, withowte variaunce,
Sovereigne lord, welcome to youre citee!
Welcome oure joye, and oure hertes plesaunce!

Meire, citezins, and alle the comynalte,

Att youre home comyng now owghte of Fraunce,
Be grace relevyd of ther old grevaunce,
Sing this day, withe grete solempnite,
Sovereigne lord, welcome to youre citee!
Welcome oure joye, and oure hertes plesaunce!

If Lydgate wrote this rondel as a fourteen-line poem with curtailed refrain, as it has been reconstructed, he occupies in the history of the English rondeau a position similar to that of Christine de Pisan in France.

After the fifteenth-century poets, there were no rondeaus written until the sixteenth century, when the form was employed several times by Sir Thomas Wyatt, one of the courtly makers of King Henry VIII's court, who is more famous for having introduced the Italian sonnet into English poetry. He was a student of Chaucer and he knew the lyric forms and commonplaces of Provençal, French, and Italian poetry alike. One of Wyatt's rondeaus is an offensive attack on Anne Boleyn in the vein of the medieval French satires against women. The rondeau of Wyatt's most commonly cited is

What? No, perdy! ye may be sure;
Thinck not to make me to your lure
With wordes and chere so contrarieing,
Suete and soure contrewaing;

To much it were still to endure.
Trouth is tryed where craft is in vre;
But, though ye have had my herte's cure,
Trow ye I dote withoute ending?

What? No, perdy!

Though that with pain I do procure
For to forgett that ons was pure,
Within my hert shall still that thing
Vnstable, vnsure, and wavering,
Be in my mynde withoute recure?
What? No, perdye!

This rondeau exhibits the form which had become the

standard in France, the thirteen-line poem rhyming a abba a ab/a a b b a, with an unrhymed refrain consisting of the first half of the first line repeated after the eighth line and after the thirteenth. Wyatt's rondeaus are followed over a century later by Charles Cotton's attack on the ladies.

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 was a friend of Sir Izaak Walton's. The rondeau in France had been very generally used for personal and political satire in the sixteenth and the seventeenth centuries, and it is the satirical rather than the amorous rondeau that influenced both Wyatt and Cotton. In the eighteenth century the members of the Pitt ministry suffered violent attack in rondeaus that were printed in the political satire called the Rolliad, published in 1784. These two specimens shows in what straits the political versifier may find himself.

Of Eden lost, in ancient days,
If we believe what Moses says,
A paltry pippin was the price,
One crab was bribe enough to entice
Frail human kind from virtue's ways.

But now when PITT, the all-perfect, sways,
No such vain lures the tempter lays,

Too poor to be the purchase twice,
Of Eden lost.

The Dev'l grown wiser, to the gaze
Six thousand pounds a year displays,
And finds success from the device;
Finds this fair fruit too well suffice
To pay the peace and honest praise,

Of Eden lost.

"A mere affair of trade to embrace,
“Wines, brandies, gloves, fans, cambricks, lace;
"For this on me my Sovereign laid
"His high commands and I obeyed;
"Nor think, my lord, this conduct base.

"Party were guilt in such a case,
"When thus my country, for a space,
"Calls my poor skill to Dorset's aid
"A mere affair of trade!"

Thus Eden with unblushing face,

To North would palliate his disgrace;

When North, with smiles, this answer made:
"You might have spared what you have said;
"I thought the business of your place
"A mere affair of trade!"

These rondeaus attacking North, Eden, Pitt and Dorset are attributed to Dr. Laurence, a friend of Burke's.

XII

THE VILLANELLE

The word villanelle, or villenesque, was used toward the end of the sixteenth century to describe literary imitations of rustic songs. Such villanelles were alike in exhibiting a refrain which testified to their ultimate popular origin. The villanelle was, in a sense, invented by

Jean Passerat (1534-1602). It is a poem of six stanzas of not more than two rhymes, the first five of which are composed of three lines, the last of four, the first line and the third line of the first stanza alternating as refrains. The tercets rhyme a b a, the quatrain usually a ba a. Passerat's villanelle about the turtle-dove and Wyndham's translation show all of these characteristics.

J'ai perdu ma tourterelle;
Est-ce point celle que j'oy?
Je veux aller après elle.

Tu regrettes ta femelle,
Hélas! aussi fais-je moi,
J'ai perdu ma tourterelle.

Si ton amour est fidelle,
Aussi est ferme ma foy;
Je veux aller après elle.

Ta plainte se renouvelle,
Toujours plaindre je me doy;
J'ai perdu ma tourterelle.

En ne voyant plus la belle,
Plus rien de beau je ne voy;
Je veux aller après elle.

Mort, que tant de fois j'appelle,

Prends ce qui se donne à toy!
J'ai perdu ma tourterelle;

Je veux aller après elle.

I have lost my turtle-dove;

Is not that her call to me?

To be with her were enough.

You mourn for your mate in love,

I chant in the same sad key,

I have lost my turtle-dove.

If your faith is not to move,

Fast is my fidelity;

To be with her were enough.

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