THE "SONNETS FOR HÉLÈNE"
(The 42nd and 43rd Sonnets of the Second Book.)
Hélène was very real. A young Maid of Honour to Catherine de Medicis; Spanish by blood, Italian by breeding, called in France "de Sugères," she was the gravest and the wisest, and, for those who loved serenity, the most beautiful of that high and brilliant school.
The Sonnets began as a task; a task the Queen had set Ronsard, with Hélène for theme: they ended in the last strong love of Ronsard's life. A sincere lover of many women, he had come to the turn of his age when he saw her, like a memory of his own youth. He has permitted to run through this series, therefore, something of the unique illusion which distance in time or space can lend to the aspect of beauty. An emotion so tenuous does not appear in any other part of his work: here alone you find the chastity or weakness which made something in his mind come near to the sadder Du Bellay's: his soul is regardant all the while as he writes: visions rise from her such as never rose from Cassandra; as this great picture at the opening of the 58th Sonnet of the Second Book:
Seule sans compagnie en une grande salle
Tu logeois l'autre jour pleine de majesté.
These "Sonnets for Hélène" should be common knowledge: they are (with Du Bellay's) the evident original upon which the author of Shakespeare's Sonnets modelled his work: they are the late and careful effort of Ronsard's somewhat spendthrift genius.
Here are two of them. One, the second, most famous, the other, the first, hardly known: both are admirable.
It is the perfection of their sound which gives them their peculiar quality. The very first lines lead off with a completed harmony: it is as thoroughly a winter night as that in Shakespeare's song, but it is more solemn and, as it were, more "built of stone...." "La Lune Ocieuse, tourne si lentement son char tout à l'entour," is like a sleeping statue of marble.
To this character, the second adds a vivid interest of emotion which has given it its special fame. Even the populace have come to hear of this sonnet, and it is sung to a lovely tune. It has also what often leads to permanent reputation in verse, a great simplicity of form. The Sextet is well divided from the Octave, the climax is clearly underlined. Ronsard was often (to his hurt) too scholarly to achieve simplicity: when, under the clear influence of some sharp passion or gaiety he did achieve it, then he wrote the lines that will always remain:
A fin qu'à tout jamais de siècle en siècle vive,
La Parfaicte amitié que Ronsard la portait.
THE "SONNETS FOR HÉLÈNE."
XLII
Ces longues nuicts d'hyver, où la Lune ocieuse
Tourne si lentement son char tout à l'entour,
Où le Coq si tardif nous annonce le jour,
Où la nuict semble un an à l'ame soucieuse:
Je fusse mort d'ennuy sans ta forme douteuse
Qui vient par une feinte alleger mon amour,
Et faisant toute nue entre mes bras séjour
Me pipe doucement d'une joye menteuse.
Vraye tu es farouche, et fière en cruauté:
De toy fausse on jouyst en toute privauté.
Pres ton mort je m'endors, pres de luy je repose:
Rien ne m'est refusé. Le bon sommeil ainsi
Abuse pour le faux mon amoureux souci.
S'abuser en Amour n'est pas mauvaise chose.
XLIII
Quand vous serez bien vieille, au Soir à la chandelle,
Assise aupres du feu, dévidant et filant,
Direz chantant mes vers, en vous esmerveillant,
Ronsard me celebroit du temps que j'estois belle.
Lors vous n'aurez servante oyant telle nouvelle
Desia sous le labeur à demy sommeillant
Qui au bruit de mon nom ne s'aille resveillant,
Bénissant vostre nom de louange immortelle.
Je seray sous la terre et fantôme sans os
Par les ombres myrteux je prendray mon repos.
Vous serez au foyer une veille accroupie,
Regrettant mon amour et vostre fier desdain.
Vivez, si m'en croyez; n'attendez à demain.
Cueillez des aujourdhuy les roses de la vie.