Robert J. Hudson

BUCOLIC INFLUENCE: MAROT’S GALLIC PASTORAL AND MAURICE SCÈVE’S ARION

n November 13, 1536, in response to the opportunistic impetus Oof Lyonnais poet Maurice Scève (ca. 1501–1564) and Renaissance venturer/editor Etienne Dolet (1509–1546), publisher François Juste released his Recueil de vers latins, et vulgaires de plusieurs Poëtes Françoys, composés sur le trespas de feu Monsieur le Daulphin in Lyon (Saulnier, “La mort” 56–57). Drawing from an impressive consortium of primarily neo- Latin poets gathered in this Renaissance hub of trade, print, and culture, Scève and Dolet included several of their own verses (four compositions equaling forty-fve verses for the latter and eight poems for a signifcant total of 283 verses credited to the former) alongside those composed by members of Lyon’s renowned Sodalitium lugdunense—including Jean Salmon Macrin, Nicolas Bourbon, Jean Visagier, and others of the “Olympiens” to whom Marot dedicated his Adolescence clementine (Febvre 32–38). Conceived, naturally, to commemorate the fallen dauphin François (1518–1536), who had tragically and suspiciously died that summer during a royal sojourn in Lyon, the volume likewise represents an effort to openly declare continued loyalty to the crown and exculpate Lyon’s intellectual elite of complicity in the crime: the Italian courtier Sébastien de Montecuculli, known by many of the poets, had recently been tortured and executed for purportedly poisoning the prince. The collection also represents an effort to mitigate the ire of the grieving king, François I (1494–1547), whose endorsement was necessary for the continuation of lucrative trade fairs in Lyon. More personally for the affuent Scève, one of the few native Lyonnais involved in the project, this collection of neo-Latin and French verse offered him the opportunity to build on recent literary successes and establish himself as the superlative vernacular poet in Lyon (Clément 31–34; Saulnier, “La mort” 80–86). To this end, Scève composed his 228-verse Arion, Églogue sur le trespas de feu Monsieur le Dauphin, the penultimate poem of the collection that dwarfs all other compositions, occupying roughly a quarter of the entire volume (228 of 881 total verses) and three-quarters of the 308 verses in French. Assuming a pastoral voice of bucolic complaint in an attempt to assert himself among France’s greatest poets, Scève aimed to

The Romanic Review Volume 105 Numbers 3–4 © The Trustees of Columbia University

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 253 12/22/15 3:18 PM 254 Robert J. Hudson

seize the vernacular laurels at the culmination of this most memorable year in Lyon’s history.1 Scève’s assumed triumphant perch atop Lyon’s Mount Fourvière was, however, short-lived, as only weeks later, in early December 1536, the royal poet laureate and prince des poëtes françoys Clément Marot (1496–1544) returned from his two-year Italian exile, was exonerated upon public abjuration of his past heresies, and was lavishly received and celebrated among the Lyonnais literati (Déjean 283–89; Guy 240–43). Indeed, this brief visit of a mere few weeks only further anchored Marot’s well-established and profound poetic infuence in Renaissance Lyon. For his part, Scève certainly did not escape Marot’s vast reach—at least, not at this early juncture. In fact, while Marot had contributed a brief, twenty-four-verse epitaph to the Scève/Dolet tombeau, his presence is felt most palpably in the Arion, the very poem through which Scève hoped to assert his poetic prominence in Lyon. With Marot’s early 1515 translation of Virgil’s frst eclogue and Marot’s own original bucolic verse from 1531, composed to lament the death of another Valois noble, Queen Mother Louise de Savoie (1476–1531), Maistre Clement had already created a pastoral tradition in France—one informed by Virgil, Baptista Spagnolo (commonly known as “Mantuan” after his birthplace), and others in its naturalization into the French vernacular—that Scève needed to frst confront prior to establishing his own authority within the bucolic genre. Reading Scève’s Arion in the light of the Virgilian pastoral tradition of the Renaissance (Mantuan, Jacopo Sannazaro, Luigi Alamanni), paying particular attention to these two earliest, genre-establishing Marotic eclogues, the present article argues that through an apprehensive apprenticeship with the verse of his era’s archpoet, Scève eventually mobilizes Marot’s bucolic infuence to poetic ends and successfully carves a pastoral niche for himself, ultimately surpassing his French and Latin models. What is the Renaissance enterprise

1. By 1536 Renaissance Lyon had enjoyed cultural and fnancial distinction in the kingdom for nearly three decades, given the cosmopolitan city’s four annual commercial fairs and its advantageous position on major European trade routes, as well as being the fnal outpost for aristocratic soldiers and diplomats en route to or from the Valois campaigns in Italy (1494–1559). Indeed, with the prospects of the arrival of the highly proftable silk trade (cf. Tassinari 14) and the summertime sojourn of the royal court (cf. Bourgeois 153–59), the year 1536 was poised to further solidify Lyon’s standing in terms of wealth and prestige. However, the year would be indelibly marked by the suspicious death of the dauphin and its grisly aftermath—a trend Scève was desperate to curb. Additionally, this year would see the return from Rome of native Lyonnais and royal architect Philibert de l’Orme and the doctor François Rabelais, as well as the arrivals of the Toulousian humanist Jean de Boysonné, the famed Nostradamus, and other important humanists, including, most importantly to this study, Clément Marot (cf. Le Marguet).

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 254 12/22/15 3:18 PM Scève and the Marotic Eclogue 255

of translatio studii, after all, but a negotiation of literary ambivalence that ultimately gives way to appropriation, assimilation, and an eventual eclipsing of one’s predecessors (Carron 270)? All the same, even with this idea of poetic evolution and literary ambivalence in mind, unlike the vast majority of critics who have previously analyzed Scève’s Arion in light of Marot’s bucolic infuence, this article does not wish to dismiss Scève’s work as either an entirely derivative poetic failure or merely a glib formal exercise in favor of his later verse. On the contrary, this eclogue stands as fertile textual ground to examine Scève’s developing poetic creativity—one that manifested itself in its lyrical maturity in the Délie (1544) and again in his bucolic masterpiece, La Saulsaye (1547). With the pastoral lament as a generic ground zero in the French tradition, the pronounced regional rusticity of Marotic Gallicism butts up quite tellingly against the subdued urbane and maritime Italianism of Scevian Neoplatonism, revealing both innovation/invention in Marot’s translatio as well as early manifestations of Scève’s distinctive poetic voice.

I. Maurice Scève, Lyonnais: Petrarchism, Neoplatonism, and the Opportunism of 1536 Neither Scève’s literary career nor his awareness of Marot’s grandeur origi- nated in 1536. Nearly four years before Marot traversed the Alps, returned to grace in the kingdom, and was received into the bosom of France’s intel- lectual and poetic elite as Maro Gallicus Ille (the Great Gallic Virgil), Scève had already carefully carved a niche for himself in the literary circles of Lyon (Saulnier, Scève I: 106–7; Marot/Defaux I: cxlv–clvi).2 In May 1533 and in response to the royal charge of François I, whose Petrarchan obsession was then at its peak (Balsamo 35–51), the burgeoning Italianist and dilettante archaeologist Scève, then studying in Avignon, was said to have discovered the tomb of the woman believed to be Petrarch’s Laura (Saulnier, Scève I: 38–48; Sieburth 9–16). With this apparent marvel of Renaissance philology, the myth of Scève was born (although it would not gain signifcant traction until 1545, after the Délie). In the preface to his frst literary publication, La Déplourable fn de Flamete (1535),3 Scève seizes on this connection with the Italian quattrocento and casts himself as a victim of Petrarchan giovenile

2. Since the present article references two editions of Marot’s complete works, the following designations will be used: Marot/Defaux (for the Garnier edition of 1990– 93) and Marot/Rigolot (for the Flammarion edition of 2007–9). Likewise, when citing Scève, the designations Scève/Guégan and Scève/Defaux (see works cited) are used. 3. This Spanish-to-French prose translation of Juan de Flores’s recent Grimalte y Gradissa was written as a conclusion to the psychological love novel Fiamette (1481), by Petrarch’s famed contemporary Boccaccio.

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 255 12/22/15 3:18 PM 256 Robert J. Hudson

errore. Adopting the position of a “bon et expert marinier en la naufrageuse mer d’amour,” Scève speaks of this “périlleux guay, où les meilleurs ans de ma vie ont passé” (quoted in Saulnier, Scève I: 56) as the impetus for his decision to translate Juan de Flores’s cautionary tale into French. Whatever the determining factor, with his discussion of this “perilous ford” of love (Sie- burth 14), Scève successfully establishes a Petrarchan mythology to be feshed out a decade later with his Délie—although hints of this literary posturing are already present in his earlier work, as seen in the following discussion of Arion. Scève’s initial exchange with Marot also dates to 1535 and the Concours des blasons, launched by the latter while in exile in Ferrara and with which the former founded his earliest poetic fame. In Scève’s blasons—to the forehead, eyebrow, tear, sigh, and chest, respectively—one notices, not without irony, a pronounced Neoplatonic bent, as his offerings to this most objectifying genre appeal to female intelligence, grace, sensitivity, and intuition. Under Scève’s pen, the earthy, carnal Gallicism that dominates the “Le Beau Tétin,” with which Marot initiated the contest, gives way to an esoteric, erudite pose (resembling the tone of the Petrarchan lyric) that stands in stark contrast with Marot’s prurient, corporeal focus.4 While many of Marot’s chosen courtly rivals interpreted his call to unveil fetishized feminine graces and beauties as an invitation to hurl themselves “sur la Femme comme une meute de molosses sur une biche” (Schmidt 293–95), Scève took a more metaphysical approach. So foreign were his neo-Petrarchan ideals of sober restraint and unrelenting chastity to the pervading Gallic sensibilities in late medieval France, which stripped the woman quite literally from head (Les cheveux) to toe (Le pied), leaving no physical trait unexplored, that Renée de France and her entourage in Ferrara delightedly crowned the relatively unknown Lyonnais poet with the laurels of the competition (Saulnier, Scève I: 77–82). In fact, so unrecognized was Scève outside of Lyon at this early juncture in his career that in Marot’s epistle declaring the victor, the elder poet claims to know nothing of the poetic newcomer other than his place of residence:

Mais du Sourcil la beaulté bien chantée A tellement notre Court contentée, Qu’à son Autheur nostre Princesse donne

4. Certainly, there remains the possibility of reading an evangelical—or even Gallican—bent in Marot’s blasons (cf. Marot/Defaux I: cxxxi–cxlv), interpreting them Solomonically in light of the Song of Songs or seeing a highly spiritual symbolism with the life-giving qualities of the female body (e.g., the Virgin’s breast milk; see Donaldson-Evans 645–55). In all cases, the unveiling is direct and tactile—unlike with Scève.

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 256 12/22/15 3:18 PM Scève and the Marotic Eclogue 257

Pour ceste fois de Laurier la Couronne: Et m’y consens, qui point ne le congnois, Fors qu’on m’a dict que c’est un Lyonnois. (Marot/Defaux I: 338, vv. 21–26)

Such a seemingly dismissive tone must have piqued the ego of the proud Scève (Saulnier, Scève I: 84; Scève/Guégan x–xii); nevertheless, the subsequent months offered him the opportunity to build on the successes and momentum of his victory in the Concours. Despite his efforts to fashion an image of himself as a distinctly Lyonnais lyricist, Scève was, much to his chagrin, more often than not simply muddled into the mass of Marotic poets (Saulnier, Scève I: 107).5 As previously mentioned, the death of the dauphin in Lyon offered him both a means and a venue to attempt to right the ship. While his primary intentions with the tombeau may well have been to place himself at the head of an established Lyonnais coterie rather than to slight his fellow poets, this editorial move appears, all the same, to have been an effort by Scève to eclipse his contemporaries, particularly the innovator of the eclogue in French (Hulubei 250).6 How better to separate himself from and even surpass his poetic forebear than to once again take a Marotic form and, employing a Petrarchan/Neoplatonic gravitas, transform the genre into something more typically Lyonnais? Though an admirable idea, reality proved that the Marotic infuence was already far too anchored at this point to simply circumvent—and Scève’s creation, for all its Italianate Petrarchism and Neoplatonism, bore distinct traces of the Marotic pastoral.7 Indeed, in preparation for a sustained analysis of Arion, it is useful to examine both of Marot’s pre-1536 eclogue offerings: frst, his prominently placed pre-1515 verse translation of Virgil’s frst eclogue that launches L’Adolescence clementine (1532), and then the Églogue sur le trespas de

5. Marot even included Scève in his own poetic “camp” (alongside other Lyonnais notables: Rabelais, Héroët, etc.) during the infamous Sagon Affair of 1537, in which the Normand poet and priest François de Sagon rallied poetic troops from the Catholic north to mobilize against the “accused heretic” Marot. In response to this harangue, Marot drew up a list humanistic poets, some of the most prodigious of France (including now Scève), and took the upper hand in this short-lived literary quarrel. In his introduction to the Délie, Defaux indicates various textual instances in which Scève attempts to separate himself from the infuence of Marot (I: xlvi–lxii). 6. Scève’s rivalry with Marot is felt even more palpably after 1536, with the latter’s eight-verse epigrammatic response to Scève’s criticism of his singing voice, written most likely around 1538, “À Maurice Scève, Lyonnois” (Marot/Defaux I: 274). 7. Scève’s early preference for Italian over French cultural references, aside from his travels as a student, may also be attributed to the often-accentuated, mythifed genealogical attachment to Piedmontese (and thus “Italian”) nobility (Baur 24–25).

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 257 12/22/15 3:18 PM 258 Robert J. Hudson

treshaulte et tresillustre princesse, ma dame Loyse de Savoye (1531)—which together bookend the princeps edition of Marot’s earliest collected poetic works. Once the features and components of the Marotic/Gallic eclogue are established, the nature of the literary echoes apparent in Scève’s poem—as well as those elements the Lyonnais poet innovates, thus allowing him to escape the grasp of his French predecessor and fashion himself poetically—become more apparent. More precisely, the following section aims to identify to what extent Marot standardized or “localized” the eclogue in France, enabling a subsequent analysis of how attached to (or freed from) these early pastoral models Scève remained in his Arion.

II. Inventing the Gallic Pastoral: The Marotic Eclogue (ca. 1515, 1531) His well-documented desire to become the French Virgil, a theme Marot frequently revisits in his most autobiographical verse with the Maro/Marot pun, is not all that drives him to compose and publish in the eclogue genre (Preisig, Clément Marot 109–25; Berthon 212–13, 249).8 Marot had undoubtedly read poetry by the Italian Carmelite humanist Baptista Spagnolo (1447–1516), whose late ffteenth-century Virgilian pastoral verse Adulescentia was published in France in 1502 and translated into French as Les Bucoliques in 1530— signifcantly, the same year that Marot dedicated his Adolescence manuscript (Dauvois 11–22; Francis 120–32). Additionally, Erasmus had written that Mantuan’s text should earn him the title of “Christianus Maro” (63, letter 49) the very literary persona Marot was working to craft (Francis 120; Berthon 249, 257). At the same time, the versatile Florentine poet Alamanni (1495– 1556), a favorite of François I, had been writing Italian pastoral verse since 1519 and published a volume of Tuscan Egloghe in Lyon in 1532 dedicated to the French king (Marot/Rigolot I: 566n619). As the king’s offcial court poet since 1527 and with his project of poetic self-fashioning as the Gallic Maro, Marot must have experienced, not unlike Scève a decade later, some degree of distress about establishing his own unique poetic voice in this crowded feld of bucolic poets. Ultimately, however, Marot’s French Virgilian eclogue emerged victorious, breaking free from its rivals/models. To quote Scott Francis, Marot’s “Adolescence supplants the ‘Christianus Maro’ of the Adulescentia, offering readers both the original Maro and his legitimate successor and translator” (132). But how did Marot succeed in making the pastoral genre French, and what are the essential qualities of his Gallic eclogue? The Romantic ideal of frstness was of little interest to the Renaissance, which valued the virtues of innovation and invention more as rediscovery than

8. As an appendix to his monograph, Florian Preisig also includes an impressive table of the various occurrences of the Marot/Maro pun (159–63).

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 258 12/22/15 3:18 PM Scève and the Marotic Eclogue 259

as creation from a void (Greene 27–53; Castor 103–13). So, that Mantuan came frst or that Alamanni was a successful contemporary was of minor importance when compared with the chief Renaissance concern of translatio studii, the geographic and temporal transfer of knowledge from one place to another. Becoming Virgil, for Marot, meant imitating both his style and poetic trajectory, as well as successfully rendering him in the French vernacular employing his own poetic voice. In the sense that the Eclogues were Virgil’s frst major poetic undertaking, frstness does matter. Despite subsequent desires to be the French Ovid, Petrarch, or David, Virgil remained Marot’s chief poetic model and ideal. Marot’s decision to feature his translation of Virgil’s frst eclogue as the initial poem of the Adolescence serves to establish him as the French Virgil, even if he appeals to chronology in his preface to cloud over his preferences: “[L’]Adolescence ira devant, et là commancerons par la premiere Églogue des Bucoliques Virgilianes” (Marot/Rigolot I: 36). From his earliest editorial efforts, Marot interestingly proffers an immediate poetic kinship with Virgil and posits him as a literary model; at the same time, in placing him frst in the Adolescence, Marot may seem to indicate not only chronology but also the idea that Virgil was a poetic rival he had overcome—which is, again, the ultimate objective of translatio studii. One element with which Marot appropriates, assimilates, and eventually surpasses Virgil in his bucolic model is already notable in the frst French rendering of the frst eclogue: the underlying Gallicism that pervades his most personal and rustic verse. This idea of Gallicism extends beyond the ribald carnality found in the blasons to include a profound attachment to regional/linguistic identity and terroir (Hudson 2–3). Examining Marot’s most personal and autobiographical verse, it is clear that Marot was deeply attached to his motherland in the Quercy and was acutely affected by leaving that land to follow his father to the Valois court in the Loire Valley in 1509. In fact, Marot speaks longingly and wistfully of his native Quercy, in what Guillaume Berthon terms his “véritable signature poétique” (272), as a land of agricultural and poetic abundance in the following verses from l’Enfer:

Que vers Midy les haults Dieux m’ont fait naistre, Où le Soleil non trop excessif est; Parquoy la terre avec honneur s’y vest De mille fruicts, de mainte feur, et plante; Bacchus aussi sa bonne vigne y plante Par art subtil sur montaignes pierreuses Rendants liqueurs fortes, et savoureuses. Mainte fontaine y murmure, et undoye, Et en touts temps le Laurier y verdoye Près de la vigne ainsi comme dessus . . .

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 259 12/22/15 3:18 PM 260 Robert J. Hudson

Au lieu, que je declaire, Le feuve Lot coule son eaue peu claire, Qui maints rochiers traverse et environne, Pour s’aller joindre au droict fl de Garonne. À brief parler, c’est Cahors en Quercy, Que je laissay pour venir querre icy Mille malheurs. (Marot/Rigolot II: 231–32, vv. 378–97)

The ideal amounts of sunshine, benevolent bodies of water, lush and diverse fora all converge in this Occitan paradise to create a propitious setting—a locus amœnus—for poetic creation. The pun between Quercy and “querre icy” (“here seek,” with here being the royal residence in Amboise, the royal “Garden of France” renowned for its own vineyards and produce, the agricultural abundance of which Marot seems to ignore in his nostalgic focus on Cahors) effectively represents the poet’s sorrow at being uprooted from his Quercinois home. Along similar lines, Virgil’s frst eclogue is the poetic exchange between two shepherds, Meliboeus and Tityrus, the latter dissatisfed with a journey to Rome that restored his felds to him, thus reaffrming his attachment to his homeland, and the former lamenting the recent dispossession of his own pastures. In essence, Virgil’s text is also a song of regional attachment and the mourning of displacement.9 Marot, the Gallic poet, must have been keenly attuned to these sentiments that echo his own existential crisis (which also allow him to respond to the vogue of the Virgilian pastoral and secure further royal support); all that remains is to fguratively graft this pastoral thematic into the vernacular tradition and nurture them as French (Marot/Rigolot I: 534n15). In his importation of the Virgilian pastoral into France (in the case of the translation and his original production), Marot codifes the Gallic eclogue by employing three essential elements of French and regional identity: (1) French fora and fauna, (2) French language and linguistics, and (3) French toponyms and proper nouns of nobility, cities, and regions. Many examining Marot’s Virgil translation have done so with an eye focused on elucidating faulty word choice or misprision to confrm neo-Latin poet Jean de Boysonné’s prejudice that “Marotus latine nescivit” (Preisig, “Marot” 51). Considering that the translation dates to between 1512 and 1515, when Marot would have been somewhere between ages ffteen and eighteen, and given his lack of a formal education (Jourda 7), lexical imprecision in Latin is somewhat to be expected. However, what is especially interesting in this poem is not the unwitting faults but the deliberate “mistranslations” that allow Marot to breathe Gallic life into this ancient Roman text.

9. For additional discussion of rustic Virgilian sites of memory employed by Marot, see Berthon (213).

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 260 12/22/15 3:18 PM Scève and the Marotic Eclogue 261

What have traditionally been dismissed as unfaithful renderings may indeed be intentional Gallicisms or may at the very least refect Marot’s desire to make the eclogue French. For example, from the opening stanza, substituting “rustique” for silvestris and including the anachronistic “chalumeau,” a rustic wind instrument from the Middle Ages, may alter the Virgilian sense of calamo (reed), but these subtle changes indeed render the poem more French (Preisig, “Marot” 52).10 Moreover, from Virgil’s “villarum culmina fumant” (Marot/ Defaux 30, v. 82), Marot interprets villa (estate) as the French “ville” and renders it as “Et puis des villes les cheminées fument” (Marot/Rigolot I: 43, v. 170)—a rustic image that may even presage Joachim Du Bellay’s famous vignette of the douceur angevine in his often-anthologized Regrets XXXI: “Quand revoiray-je, helas, de mon petit village / Fumer la cheminée” (54, vv. 5–6). Turning to nature, from the frst line of the eclogue, where the Latin fagi, which should be a beech tree or “hêtre,” becomes a more medieval and more prominently French elm tree, “Ormeau / Large, et espez” (21, vv. 1–2).11 His choice of the ubiquitous elm endows Marot’s pastoral with even more of a Gallic tone. In yet another telling variation from the original text to that of the Œuvres of 1538, Marot’s rendering of Virgil’s list of nature’s bounty (“sunt nobis mitia poma, / castaneae molles et pressi copia lactis”) originally ignores the castaneae (chestnuts) altogether, “Des pommes douces / Tout plain de bon fromage” (vv. 167–68), but in the 1538 text restores the chestnut and appends two very Gallic interlopers, the plum (which, dried into a prune, is a delicacy of Marot’s Languedoc region) and garlic (archaically aulx, another Gascon specialty): “Pommes, Pruneaux, tout plein de bon fructage, / Chastaignes, Aulx, avec force Laictage” (vv. 168–69). Likewise, his use of the less common aulx instead of the ail (still used today) may hint at a langue d’oc / langue d’oïl distinction, in which Marot would prefer the more familiar Languedocien

10. In his essay on Marot’s translations, Preisig underlines a number of other “contresens” in Marot’s “mistranslations” of Virgil (52–53), as identifed in various critical editions. Many of these have been attributed to Marot’s likely use of Maurus Servius Honoratus’s ffth-century glosses of Virgil. For a discussion of Marot’s usage of Servius, see Jondorf (115–32). Regardless of his level of Latin, many of Marot’s translations, which transplant Virgil into a Gallic context, appear deliberate. 11. Both Defaux (Marot/Defaux, I: 413) and Rigolot (Marot/Rigolot, I: 38) indicate that Marot originally employed the correct version of the Virgilian fagus (“fousteau”) in his frst translation prior to adapting it to the more Gallic “ormeau” in subsequent editions (Marot/Defaux, I: 415n2). A possible interpretation of this choice may be due to the fact that medieval appointments were given, idiomatically speaking, “sous l’orme” (De Ponthieu 212–13). Also, unless otherwise noted, all direct quotations from Marot’s Virgil translation and the 1531 Églogue sur le trepas are from the Marot/ Defaux edition (I: 21–68) and, for the sake of concision, are henceforth identifed using verse numbers.

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 261 12/22/15 3:18 PM 262 Robert J. Hudson

term.12 At the same time, a search for its accompanying term, “laictage,” reveals only one other instantiation of the term in the sixteenth century, when it is also used to cultivate an ambiance of rusticity.13 In translating these organic items into French, Marot simultaneously Gallicizes them. To further emphasize the Gallic elements of the Virgilian translation, Marot aggrandizes the French river from Tityrus’s list of adynata that would occur before the pastor forgets the face of him who restored his focks: “Aut Ararim Parthus bibet aut Germania Tigrim” (28, v. 62). His French translation highlights the presence and importance of the Latin Arar, chief river of Celtic Gaul—the modern-day Saône that originates in the French Jura and converges with the Rhône in Lyon: “Plustost boyront les Parthes Araris / Le feuve grand” (vv. 125–26; emphasis added). As a fnal point on Virgil’s frst eclogue, Marot does perhaps transfer his own feelings to Tityrus in adding a phrase entirely absent from the Latin text, when he describes the pasture as “ce beau Lieu champaistre” (v. 16), thus appealing to the idea of locus amœnus, the idea with which he opens his original eclogue, whose Gallic tendencies are even more pronounced. Likewise, Marot’s Églogue sur le trepas de ma dame Loyse de Savoye (1531) builds on the Gallic foundation of his Virgil translation to develop an eclogue that is decidedly French. From the announcement of locus amœnus in the frst verse (“En ce beau Val sont plaisirs excellens” [vv. 41–42]), Marot develops a setting that is ripe with Gallic imagery. His two shepherds, Colin d’Anjou and Thenot de Poictou, both bear toponymic names that link them to a region and celebrate a renowned French artisan of musical instruments whose name also anchors him to a distinct locale: the “double Chalumeau / Faict de la main de Raffy Lyonnoys” (vv. 41–42).14 Their sorrowful song deploring “la Bergere Loyse” and her graces emphasizes her love of France: “Tant eut au chef de sagesses encloses: / Tant bien sçavoir le clos de France aymer: / Tant bien y sceut aux Lys joindre les Roses” (vv. 141–43). More than merely mentioning France, they populate this land of campestral pleasures with fora that are markedly French: the royal “Lys blanc” of the French nobility appears

12. The 1606 Jean Nicot Le Thresor de la Langue françoyse appears to see the distinction between the two terms as arbitrary, “Aucuns dient Aul, les autres Ail, Allium.” Could Marot’s distancing himself from the Latin allium, however, suggest any animosity felt toward ancient Rome and kinship to the Gauls? While garlic is certainly not exclusive to Gascony or rustic living, could this less common term be Marot’s way to render it more bucolic and familiar? 13. The University of Chicago ARTFL-FRANTEXT quotes only La Vénerie by Jacques du Fouilloux (1562), which likewise treats shepherding and rustic life in relation to “laictage.” 14. For an explanation about the identity of Raffy, see Marot/Defaux, I: 629n9.

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 262 12/22/15 3:18 PM Scève and the Marotic Eclogue 263

another three times alongside various large, hardwood elms (“Orme”), ash trees (“Fresne”), and oaks (“Chesne”) that grow amid roses (“Rose”), laurel (“Laurier”), ivies (“Lierre”), hawthorn (“Aubepins”), ferns (“Fougeres”), rosemary (“Rommarins”), and colorful carnations (“Œillet”)—creating a garland of France’s most beautiful vegetation.15 In a most noteworthy moment, Thenot promises Colin twelve very typically French quince fruits “des Coings auras six jaulnes, et six verts” in exchange for his hundred poetic lines (“dix fois dix Vers”) sung for the deceased queen mother (v. 35).16 Marot’s fauna are equally French: from the woodpeckers (“Pivers”), nightingales (“Rossignol”), and species of doves (“Coulombs, & Tourterelles”) that populate the skies, the French parrot (“Papegay,” so famously Gallicized in 1505 by Jean Lemaire de Belges in the fgure of his amant vert), as well as the “Trouppeaux,” featuring lambs (“Aigneaulx”), kids (“Chevreau”), ewes (“Brebis”), and “Tout le Bestail de toute la Contrée” all bleating and lowing in a typically rural French setting. Likewise, the shepherds’ food, as with the quince above, is very French in its emphasis on dairy products—here, cheese and buttermilk: “S’il gaigne en pris ung beau Frommage tendre, / Tu gaigneras ung pot de Laict caillé” (vv. 13–14). Notably, each representative of French Nature—fora, fauna, and food—is emphasized with a capital letter. The one animal that is exempt from this terrestrial paradise, “ce grand Loup ravissant,” is singled out as the only beast that would not lament Louise: “Tous Animaux Loyse regretterent, / Exceptez Loups de maulvaise nature” (v. 76; vv. 119–20). Once again, this resonates with Du Bellay’s Regrets, namely, the famous ninth sonnet (“France, mère des arts . . .”), in which the French lamb is abandoned by mother France in Italy, where “entre les loups cruels j’erre parmy la plaine” (43, v. 9). In a work intended to celebrate the evangelical-leaning Louise, it merits noting that Marot possibly simultaneously evokes the Roman Church

15. Having earlier mentioned the local importance of the elm tree (ormeau or orme), the oak (chêne) has even deeper connections with Gallic identity, as the sacred tree of Celtic (ergo Gaulish) peoples (Frazer 754). Naturally, none of the species of fora Marot mentions is exclusively French; however, each is prominent in the encyclopedia of French trees from the Université Pierre et Marie Curie (Prat and Rubinstein), and examples of each are to be found on the historical list of Arbres remarquables de France (see works cited). Furthermore, in his 1881 Histoire de Gaule, Amédée Thierry asserts that “le chêne, le bouleau, l’ormeau, le pin composaient ces vastes forêts dont [la Gaule] Armorique et la [Gaule] Belgique étaient encombrées” (quoted in Bruneaux, who further insists on the variety of hardwood trees and the rich and abundant fora of ancient Gaul, 44–52). 16. In his notes, Rigolot recognizes the Frenchness of this choice of produce: “Marot transforme les fgues et les grenades bibliques (Nombres 13, 23) en fruits bien français” (I: 566n627).

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 263 12/22/15 3:19 PM 264 Robert J. Hudson

qua “wolf in sheep’s clothing” in this fgure, suggesting Marot is as religiously Gallican as he is poetically Gallic. The possible presence of an Italian beast that troubles paradise is a decisive theme, as can also be observed in Scève’s Arion. Marot’s shepherds are as distinctly French as they are rustic. Toward the end of the poem, Thenot compliments Colin with the apostrophic “O franc Pasteur, combien tes Vers sont pleins / De grand doulceur, & de grand amertume” (vv. 261–62). Here, the modifer “franc” can simply mean “candid” or “frank,” but it also allows a possible reading of “Frenchness”: Colin is manifesting his heritage as a descendant of the Franks or, in speech contemporary to his day, as a “franc Gaulois.”17 Questions of descent, as explored above with various toponyms, are prevalent throughout the poem, where multiple (not always defnitively identifable, but clearly French) proper nouns appear: “le bon Pasteur Michaud” (Marot/Defaux I: 629–30n10), a certain “Roger,” various nobles from metonymic royal cities/regions (“Coignac,” “Rommorantin,” “Anjou,” “Angolesme,” “Amboyse,” “Meine,” etc.), the easily identifable “Margot,” as well as the “grand Berger d’icy,” a clear reference to Margot’s brother / Louise’s son, François I. Extending beyond the pasture, another brief Marotic evocation of royalty allows the direct comparison of Marot’s Gallic eclogue to that executed by Scève half a decade later in his Arion: “La mer en fut troublée, et mal tranquille, / Et les Daulphins bien jeunes y plourent” (vv. 115–16). To quickly explain, as a result of the Treaty of Madrid of 1526, which freed François I from Spanish captivity at the hands of Charles V (after the February 1525 disaster at Pavia), his two sons, the abovementioned “Daulphins bien jeunes” François (the fallen hero of Scève’s Arion) and his successor Henri (the future Henri II of France), aged eight and fve years, respectively, were offered as hostages to Spain on March 17, 1526, where they would remain prisoners until July 1, 1530 (Duhamel 151–77). While the two were likely still too young, ill, and traumatized from their own incarceration to grasp the gravity of their grandmother’s death in autumn 1531, all of France, from the pastures to the seas, would be devastated by the death of young François in 1536.

III. Inheriting the Gallic Eclogue: An Analysis of Scève’s Arion (1536) Traditional readings of Scève’s Arion tend to diminish the poet’s earliest bucolic effort, suggesting that the poem offers “Rien de remarquable” (Saulnier, Scève I: 98) to the pastoral mode and judging it “loin d’être un chef-d’œuvre” (Hulubei 255), with most largely concurring that the Arion “non è meno di

17. Du Bellay later employed this same usage of franc in his pro-Gallic, anti-Italian “Contre les Pétrarquistes”: “J’ay oublié l’art de Petrarquizer, / Je veulx d’Amour franchement deviser” (190, vv. 1–2; emphasis added).

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 264 12/22/15 3:19 PM Scève and the Marotic Eclogue 265

una interessante e disinvolta esercitazione” (Giudici 105–6). While the poem does remain somewhat derivative of the Marotic Gallic style in both form and content, Scève’s innovations with regard to certain basic literary elements as well as his negotiation of bucolic models from the Latin tradition (specifcally, Sannazaro) help separate his pastoral from Marot’s frst two eclogues and align it more germanely with his own (Petrarchan) poetic enterprise in 1536, thus making the case that Arion merits careful reconsideration. Scève’s solitary lamenting poet, Mediterranean maritime setting, and initial absence of terrestrial fora and fauna evoke both his Provençal sojourn in Avignon and the lyrical allegory from his aforementioned Flamete preface of being tossed and shipwrecked in the ocean of love, once again allowing a more deliberate self-fashioning as a Petrarchan lyricist and eventually a pastoralist. Indeed, thematically, the marine setting of Arion aligns Scève’s pastoral more directly with the Neapolitan poet Sannazaro’s 1526 Eclogae Piscatoriae, which were composed in Latin and paint a distinctly Italian seascape (Kennedy 153–58).18 Much like Sannazaro (1448–1530), for whom Virgil and Mantuan were chief pastoral precedents and who “embraced his classical models wholeheartedly, infusing them with a modern Petrarchan outlook” (Kennedy 150), Scève straddles Antiquity and his contemporary period, with one foot in Italy and the other in Lyon. This hesitation and poetic ambivalence does, however, serve artistic ends in Scève’s Arion, which was ultimately composed in the French vernacular, unlike much of the volume for which it was written. For instance, in positing his lamenting subject as the ancient Greek fgure of Arion, the poet of legend who famously befriended dolphins (ergo le dauphin), Scève harks back to Antiquity but appears to also be manifesting a desire to assert his own closeness to the Valois court and to soothe the painful royal memories of the prince’s death—something the Lyonnais tombeau certainly attempted to accomplish on the whole (Saulnier, “La mort” 50).19 Reiterating Scève’s desire to uphold the elevated image of Lyon and assert his lyrical place within the city, despite the numerous infuences he had to negotiate, the poetic stakes of this volume and his Arion alone were too incredibly high to reduce this poem to a mere facile, formal activity. Contrary to the reductive prejudices of Third Republic criticism, Arion is an underappreciated early masterpiece

18. Translated by Michael C. J. Putnam as Sannazaro’s “Piscatory Eclogues” (102–41), these fve compositions (and various fragments) shift the traditional rustic setting of the Virgilian pastoral from the campestral to the Bay of Naples, where the lamenting shepherds become fshermen. 19. Even if the etymology would be misleading, the proper noun Arion also carries potential phonetic resonances of denoting one from the Arar, again, the ancient Roman name for Lyon’s River Saône, a happy-but-false coincidence that would not have left Scève indifferent.

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 265 12/22/15 3:19 PM 266 Robert J. Hudson

of Scève’s oeuvre, one that effectively responds to the poet’s conciliatory objectives while revealing his poetic development—which remained, despite resonances of Petrarch and Sannazaro, considerably beholden to Marot’s bucolic infuence. From the frst verse, Scève discloses his poem’s maritime setting (“Dessus le bort de la Mair coye, et calme”), which is often recalled throughout the opening verses: “la mer patente” (v. 5), “les undes battues” (v. 16), “la moiste sable” (v. 21), “les lieux marins” (v. 26), “les verdes eaux” (v. 49) (Scève/Guégan 157).20 So, while thematically more reminiscent of Sannazaro than Marot at this point, the eclogue remains all the same both linguistically and at least somewhat geographically anchored to France with its possessive indication of locale, “sa Mediterrane” (v. 94). Again like Sannazaro, the solitary poet (much like the lyrical Arion) adopts a lyrical posture more akin to Petrarch than to Virgil (or Marot), as he describes his ruined instrument, his “Lyre enrouée, et ja casse” (v. 9), his desire “languissant sus la rive” (v. 19) and “pleurant sans fn” (v. 22) to “errer” (v. 21). It also underlines the impotence of his lyrical verse, unlike that of Arion, to produce any real-world change (i.e., to resurrect the fallen dauphin), which is the plight of all lyrical poets in the Orphic tradition: “En vain, que ma Lyre provoque, / Mort à pitié, ou bien que je revoque / Des bas enfers vostre espoir long temps mort, / Espoir pour qui mort avec luy me mord” (vv. 33–36; emphasis added). 21 Despite the Petrarchan and Sannazaran overtones, at the conclusion of this lament and initial mention of the dauphin’s death, Scève rather blatantly appeals to Marot and skeptically inverts the famous devise with which his Adolescence concludes: “La mort n’y mord” (Marot/Rigolot I: 36; I: 534n12). While death may have no bite for the often-afficted, evangelical-leaning Marot, Scève appeals to his French bucolic predecessor to assert that he, on the contrary, feels the dauphin’s death deeply. Unlike his royal counterpart, who had spent his recent years in nomadic exile, Scève is attached to both Lyon and the person of the fallen François, offering his verse more sincerity and authenticity. Such a move represents an ingenious

20. All references for Scève’s Arion are taken from the Guégan edition (155–63), henceforth cited by verse numbers alone. 21. The fgure of Arion appears at least twice in Marot’s work, both times after 1536. Interestingly, in the frst instance, Marot evokes his drowned musician friend Jehan Chauvin in an elegy (published in 1538), claiming his music as superior to that of either Arion or Orpheus and thus incurring the wrath of the gods (Marot/Rigolot I: 402–3; 603n66). In the second example, from the 1541 Psaumes de David, it is the biblical poet-king David whose music would lead Orpheus to hang himself, Arion to cease singing, and Apollo to shatter his lyre and abandon his laurels (Marot/Rigolot II: 97, vv. 135–50). In each case, Arion’s classic, secular music is inferior to the French/Gallic/ Christian brand Marot proposes.

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 266 12/22/15 3:19 PM Scève and the Marotic Eclogue 267

poetic power play (quite similar to that enacted above by Marot toward his model Virgil), but also reveals the presence of Marot in Scève’s text. Despite this initial dissociation between the poet and his French model, as the eclogue proceeds, Arion increasingly affrms its embedded Gallicism, distances itself from Sannazaro and Petrarch, and reveals a pervasive debt to Marot as it employs many of the fgures examined in the previous section. As the poem begins to distance itself from Latin models, a combination of biographical and historical detail—and an attachment to France—emerge as prevalent visible traits linking Arion to Marot’s bucolic infuence. Given the venue of publication and the mythological link between Arion and dolphins, the source of his lyrical subject’s mourning no longer comes as any surprise when Scève eventually identifes the deceased: “Et a bon droict Daulphin, las, on nommoit” (v. 48; emphasis added). That he is discussing a particular dauphin, the late François, is reaffrmed, however, with attention to key life events and the scandal surrounding his death. As Marot had done in commemorating Louise de Savoie, Scève speaks reverentially of the personal history and qualities of the fallen: “Si bien ses faicts l’on remect a memoire” (v. 53). Arion sings of his youthful “vertu tresincline” (v. 51), “essence divine” (v. 52), “gayetté” (v. 59), and “pieté” (v. 60). His patriotism and devotion to his would-have-been kingdom of France and royal subjects (“Il prefera commune utilité / A ses esbats, et jeunes passetemps, / Pour sa patrie, et moy rendre contents” [vv. 64–66]) allow the poet to speak of François’s frst biographical hardship: once again, his willful imprisonment in Spain alongside his brother Henri in exchange for his father’s liberation: “Et de franchise, helas, il se desmit / Abandonnant ses congneues montaignes, / Pour exiller aux extremes Espaignes” (vv. 78–80). Following a historico-poetic narrative that devolves into a mythical allegory over a few scores of verses, Scève abruptly interjects reality into the “souvenir tresdur, et neantmoins / Tresdelectable en mon triste remord” (vv. 148–49), followed by the apostrophic introduction of “O Cocodrille ancien ennemi” (v. 151), a clear phonetic reference to the Italian courtier Montecuculli (-cuculli/cocodrille), who again was executed as a traitor—having purportedly poisoned François’s water, as referenced in the verses to follow—in connection with the dauphin’s suspicious death (Saulnier, “La mort” 53–57). Repeating his efforts to redeem the image of his city and assert his own intimacy with the Valois, Scève memorializes this act of treason, thus recalling to memory the grisly aftermath:

De mon jadis tant cher tenu amy, Qui te esmouvoit sans auculne achoison Commetre en luy si grande trahison D’empoissoner les eaulx où il nageoit, Quand pour le chault, las, il se soulageoit,

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 267 12/22/15 3:19 PM 268 Robert J. Hudson

Bien je te doibs, non sans cause, mauldire, Tant m’as remply le cueur de deuil, et d’ire, Tans m’as rendu mon esperance morte, Qu’il n’est soulas qui plus me reconforte. (vv. 152–60)

Naturally, the biographical episode and the life of the dauphin end here, providing Arion/Scève, in a very Gallic and Marotic move, space to reveal himself as the shepherd/poet and usher the eclogue from its foreign Mediterranean setting to its Gallic pastoral end. The abrupt rupture of this “mort pernicieuse” (v. 167) takes Arion/Scève suddenly from his maritime setting to a campestral locus, highlighted by various mentions of fora and fauna. As a direct result of this rural displacement, all joyful songs are replaced by tragedies and elegies, as are all lighthearted oceanside pastimes: “Mais te lairray, après ceste complaincte, / Sans art, sans corde, et de morte deuil paincte” (vv. 171–72). Arion, now as shepherd, returns to his focks to ward off (with very little verisimilitude) “Tygres, Lyons, Cerfs, Ours, Dains, et Liepars” (v. 174), an exotic array of predators that is far from Gallic, and which gives way, nonetheless, to that infamous predator the Wolf, yet again recalling Montecuculli’s treachery (and Louise’s fock): “Et les Loups ravissants / Joindre aux Brebis et aux beufs, mugissants” (vv. 175–76). Our poet then turns his lyrical gift to pastoral refection on the fallen prince and dedicates himself to serving as his poetic mouthpiece: “Plus ne feras retarder le discours / Au cler Phebus, et aux feuves leur cours, / Aux oyselets laisser leurs verds buissons / Pour scouter tes armonieux sons” (vv. 177–80). The Sannazaran pisctorial setting is now decidedly replaced by the abundant felds, green shrubbery, familiar air fowl, and earthy livestock of the Gallic pastoral. Addressing himself to “Bestes, Oyseaux” and now appealing to Pan and Phoebus Apollo, and no longer Triton, Arion/Scève transforms into the Marotic/Gallic pastoral poet, asserting with the very French imperative that the gentle beasts offer him contemplative solitude: “Allés mes briebettes. / Plus ne lairrés la pasture des champs, / Pour scouter mes soulacieux chants” (vv. 194–95). Scève concludes this pastoral transformation in moving from the ocean shore to languishing alone on the (Saône?) riverbank: “Et avec moy seulement demourra / Pour compaignon sus ceste triste rive, / Ung doulx languir jusqu’à la mort tardive” (vv. 225–28).22 For Ellen Zetzel Lambert,

In Arion’s sea-shore the restless contemplus mundi of the Christian elegist is united with the languorous self-absorption of the Italian

22. The poetic act of lying prostrate on the banks of the immortalized body of water is key to Renaissance locus amœnus and would be repeated by the Pléiade poet Pontus de Tyard in his contemplative sonnet immortalizing his Bissy homeland (Hudson 12).

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 268 12/22/15 3:19 PM Scève and the Marotic Eclogue 269

elegist. Here Scève leaves his Arion, looking for companionship neither to the sweet, animated world around him, nor to that more distant peace elsewhere, but to the “doulx languir” within. (118)

As with his blasons, Scève remains ultimately less attached to the mondain and more Neoplatonic in his contemplations. As yet, he is still not entirely Gallic, but the bucolic infuence of Marot does eventually enable Scève to fnd his own pastoral bearings within his developing project of poetic solitude and Neoplatonic expression—the frst glimmers of which are observable in his Arion.

Conclusion The pure expression of Scève’s poetic voice would have to wait another decade, when life experience would conjugate with more well-formed and researched Neoplatonic, even Lyonnais, resonances.23 By this time, he had apparently come to terms with poetic ambivalence and learned to embrace his poetic rivals as forebears. While Délie remains profoundly Petrarchan and Marotic in infuence (Scève/Defaux xxxix–lxii) and La Saulsaye is indebted to Sannazaro (Kennedy 94), these two works stand out as Scève’s mature masterpieces and are the quintessential Lyonnais texts from the Renaissance (Nash 943–54; Hodges 86–97). The culmination of the Neoplatonic transcendental, Petrarchan errance, and the Marotic bucolic infuence, with Scève now comfortable in his own poetic evolution, allowed for translatio studii to take frm root in lyrical Lyon, where his own unique poetic voice could emerge and resonate. While the Délie is celebrated as Scève’s greatest lyrical achievement, with La Saulsaye, Scève attained the summit of his bucolic expression, found his pure pastoral voice, and effectively claimed the poetic laurels of Lyon on the crest of Fourvière. Here, mobilizing the setting of the willow grove from Sannazaro’s Latin Salices to poetic ends, Scève’s Lyon is effectively Gallicized from its Roman past and is celebrated in the French vernacular. Introduced by a beautiful engraving by Bernard Salomon in which they are depicted contemplating majestic Fourvière and urban Lyon from across the Saône (see Hodges 89–90), two shepherds, Philerme, who celebrates rustic life and solitude, and Antire, who praises Lyon’s civic grandeur, embody the same hesitations

23. The period after the dauphin’s death was, for Scève, one of poetic silence, erudite study, and solitary refection on his ancestral holdings on the Île Barbe that culminated in the publication of the Délie (1544), the death of his cherished pupil and muse Pernette du Guillet (1545), and, fnally, the publication of La Saulsaye (1547) (Saulnier, Scève I: 120–45).

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 269 12/22/15 3:19 PM 270 Robert J. Hudson

Scève confronted in his own self-fashioning. Extolling both sides and weaving a rich and luscious garland of Lyon’s most noteworthy cosmopolitan and rural features, Scève’s shepherds ultimately content themselves to watch the sun set “oultre le mont Forviere” (Scève/Guégan 187). A triumph for Scève and his Lyonnais verse, this achievement in poetic self-fashioning frst required a formative passage through the vestigial remains of Marot’s bucolic infuence, an apprenticeship Scève had previously undertaken in his Arion.

Brigham Young University

Works Cited Arbres remarquables de France. Association A.R.B.R.E.S. 4 Oct. 2014. Web. 12 Jan. 2015. http://www.arbres.org/arbres_remarquables.html. Balsamo, Jean. “François Ier, Clément Marot et les origines du pétrarquisme français (1533–1539).” Les Poètes français de la Renaissance et Pétrarque. Ed. Jean Balsamo. Genève: Droz, 2004. 35–51. Baur, Albert. Maurice Scève et la Renaissance lyonnaise. Paris: Champion, 1906. Berthon, Guillaume. L’Intention du poète: Clément Marot,“autheur.” Paris: Garnier, 2014. Bourgeois, Louis. Quand la cour de France vivait à Lyon. Paris: Fayard, 1980. Bruneaux, Jean-Louis. Nos Ancêtres les Gaulois. Paris: Seuil, 2008. Carron, Jean-Claude. “Imitation and Intertextuality in the Renaissance.” New Literary History 19.3 (1988): 565–79. Castor, Grahame. Pléiade Poetics: A Study of Sixteenth-Century Thought and Terminology. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1964. Clément, Michèle. “Un geste poétique et éditorial en 1536.” Réforme, Humanisme, Renaissance 62 (2006): 31–43. Dauvois, Nathalie. “Portrait du jeune poète en berger: Adolescence et bucolique.” Cahiers textuels 34/44.30 (2007): 11–22. Déjean, Jean-Luc. Clément Marot. Paris: Fayard, 1990. De Ponthieu, Amédée. Légendes du vieux Paris. Paris: Bachelin-Deflorenne, 1867. Donaldson-Evans, Lance. “Le Blason du Beau Tétin: Une relecture.” Clément Marot, “Prince des poëtes François,” 1496–1996. Ed. Gérard Defaux and Michel Simonin. Paris: Champion, 1997. 645–55. Du Bellay, Joachim. Œuvres poétiques. Ed. Daniel Aris and Françoise Joukovsky. 2 vols. Paris: Garnier, “Garnier Frères,” 1993. Duhamel, Jean. La Captivité de François Ier et des Dauphins. Paris: Hachette, 1958. Erasmus, Desiderius. Opus epistolarum Des. Erasmi Roterodami. Ed. P. S. Allen. Vol. 1. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1906.

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 270 12/22/15 3:19 PM Scève and the Marotic Eclogue 271

Febvre, Lucien. Le Problème de l’incroyance au XVIe siècle. 1937. Paris: Albin Michel, 2003. Francis, Scott M. “Authorial Personae, Ideal Readers, and Advertising for the Book in Lemaire, Marot, and Rabelais.” Diss. Princeton U, 2012. Frazer, James George. The Golden Bough. 1890. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1998. Giudici, Enzo. Maurice Scève, Bucolico e “Blasonneur.” Napoli: Liguori, 1965. Greene, Thomas M. The Light in Troy: Imitation and Discovery in Renaissance Poetry. New Haven: Yale UP, 1982. Guy, Henry. Clément Marot et son école. 1921. Paris: Champion, 1968. Hodges, Elisabeth. Urban Poetics in the French Renaissance. Burlington: Ashgate, 2008. Hudson, Robert J. “Latently Gallic: Locus Amœnus and the Prurient Verse of the Mature Pontus de Tyard.” French Forum 39.1 (2014): 1–18. Hulubei, Alice. L’Églogue en France au XVIe siècle. Paris: Droz, 1938. Jondorf, Gillian. “Marot’s Première églogue de Virgile: Good, Bad, or Interesting?” Humanism and Letters in the Age of François Ier. Ed. Philip Ford and Gillian Jondorf. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996. 115–32. Jourda, Pierre. Marot. Paris: Hatier, 1956. Kennedy, William J. Jacopo Sannazaro and the Uses of Pastoral. Hanover: UP of New England, 1983. Lambert, Ellen Zetzel. Placing Sorrow: A Study of the Pastoral Elegy Convention from Theocritus to Milton. Chapel Hill: U of North Carolina P, 1976. Le Marguet, Claude. Mylingues la Brumeuse ou L’An 1536 à Lion sur le Rosne. 1930. Lyon: Albert Guillot, 1976. Marot, Clément. Œuvres complètes. Ed. François Rigolot. 2 vols. Paris: Flammarion, 2007–9. ———. Œuvres poétiques. Ed. Gérard Defaux. 2 vols. Garnier Frères. Paris: Bordas, 1990–93. Nash, Jerry C. “Mont côtoyant le Fleuve et la Cité: Scève, Lyons and Love.” French Review 69.6 (1996): 943–54. Prat, Roger, and Jean-Pierre Rubinstein. Arbres et arbustes: Une encyclopédie en images. Univ. Pierre and Marie Curie, 19 June 2012. Web. 12 Jan. 2015. http://www.snv.jussieu.fr/bmedia/arbres/index.htm. Preisig, Florian. Clément Marot et les métamorphoses de l’auteur à l’aube de la Renaissance. Geneva: Droz, 2004. ———. “Marot et la traduction de la première églogue.” Clément Marot, “Prince des poëtes François,” 1496–1996. Ed. Gérard Defaux and Michel Simonin. Paris: Champion, 1997. 49–56. Sannazaro, Jacopo. Latin Poetry. Trans. Michael C. J. Putnam. I Tatti Renaissance Library. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2009. Saulnier, V.-L. “La mort du Dauphin François et son tombeau poétique (1536).” Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance 6 (1954): 51–97. ———. Maurice Scève. 2 vols. Paris: Klincksieck, 1948.

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 271 12/22/15 3:19 PM 272 Robert J. Hudson

Scève, Maurice. Délie, object de plus haulte vertu. 2 vols. Ed. Gérard Defaux. Geneva: Droz, 2004. ———. Œuvres poétiques complètes. Ed. Bertrand Guégan. 1926. Geneva: Slatkine, 1967. Schmidt, Albert-Marie, ed. Poètes du seizième siècle. Bibliothèque de la Pléiade. Paris: Gallimard, 1953. Sieburth, Richard, ed. and trans. Emblems of Desire: Selections from the Délie of Maurice Scève. 2003. Brooklyn: Archipelago, 2007. Tassinari, Bernard. La Soie à Lyon. Lyon: ELAH, 2005. Virgil. Eclogues, Georgics, Aeneid 1–6. Trans. H. R. Fairclough. 1916. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1999.

Romanicv105n03-04.indb 272 12/22/15 3:19 PM