s. 54. THE EIGHT-LINE STANZA. The poet's first attempt at naturalising a French metre in stanzas, as far as we know, was in his A B C; although the original of this poem is in a different metre. The metre must have been known to Machault, of whose poems only fragments appear in Tarb['e]'s edition; for good examples, see the works of Eustache Deschamps. The same metre is used in the Monkes Tale, the Former Age, and Lenvoy to Bukton; and, thrice repeated, with a refrain, in the Balade to Rosemounde, Fortune, and the Complaint of Venus. It was afterwards taken up by Hoccleve and Lydgate, and by G. Douglas, in his 'King Hart,' but is not a particularly favourite metre. However, with the addition of an Alexandrine line at the end, it became the famous Spenserian stanza of the Faerie Queene[52]. s. 55. THE SEVEN-LINE STANZA. His next achievement was of vast importance. He naturalised the famous seven-line stanza, employed by Machault in several poems, one of which evidently furnished the refrain of Against Women Unconstant; and this is good evidence in favour of the genuineness of this Balade. On account of the great interest attaching to this metre, I here transcribe Machault's Balade in full. And I take occasion to remark, at the same time, that it illustrates the absurdity of an unlucky suggestion that has been lately made, viz. that 'all Balades must needs have an _envoy_, and that envoys to some of Chaucer's Balades must have been lost[53].' BALLADE: by GUILLAUME de MACHAULT (ed. Tarb['e], p. 55). Se pour ce muir qu'amours ay bien servi, Fait mauvais servir si fait signour; Ne je n'ay pas, ce croy, mort desservi Pour bien amer de tr[`e]s loial amour[54]. Mais je voy bien que finer faut un jour, Quant je congnois et voy tout en appert Qu'en lieu de bleu, Dame, vous vestez vert. H['e]las! Dame, je vous ay tant chieri En desirant de merci la doucour[55], Que je n'ay mais sens ne pooir en mi, Tant qu'ont min['e] mi soupir et mi plour. Et m'esp['e]rance est morte sans retour[56], Quant souvenirs me monstre [`a] d['e]couvert Qu'en lieu de bleu, Dame, vous vestez vert. Pour ce maudi les iex dont je vous vi, L'eure, le jour, et le tr[`e]s cointe atour, Et la biaut['e] qui ont mon cuer ravi, Et la plaisir enyvr['e] de folour, Le dous regart qui me mist en errour; Et loyaut['e] qui souffre et a souffert Qu'en lieu de bleu, Dame, vous vestez vert.