Conscious simplicity is art, and
if it is successful art of no mean order, Ronsard's method of admitting
us, as it were, to his conversation with himself is definitely his own.
His interruptions of a verse with 'Ha' or 'He'; his 'Mon Dieu, que
j'aime!' or 'He, que ne suis-je puce?' (the difference between Ronsard's
flea and Donne's would be worth examination) have in them an element of
irresistible _bonhomie_. We feel that he is making us his confidant. He
does not have to tear agonies out of himself, so that what he confides
has no chance of making explicit any secrets of our own. There is
nothing dangerous about him; we know that he is as safe as we are. We
are in conversation, not communion. But how effective and engaging it
is!
'Vous ne le voulez pas? Eh bien, je suis contant ...'
'He, Dieu du ciel, je n'eusse pas pense
Qu'un seul depart eust cause tant de peine!...'
or the still more casual
'Un joieus deplaisir qui douteus l'epointelle,
Quoi l'epointelle! aincois le genne et le martelle .
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