LYONS AND LOUISE LABE 2S7
secretary, anxious for travel and adventure, Olivier de
Magny, himself a poet and a friend of the great Ronsard,
the new star just rising over France. During his stay he
was, as a matter of course, presented to Louise. He was
“vif, ardent, bien pris de sa petite taille,” and four or five
years younger than she was. Louise, then twenty-five, was
tall, with full lips, golden hair, and black eyebrows. In her
eyes he seemed illumined by all the glory of Parnassus.
The name of Ronsard had a powerful attraction for her
and lent a glamour to the man who was his friend. His
own gifts did more. They fell in love at first sight—driven,
as he tells her, by destiny—and he lost no time in pouring
out sonnets to her.
“Car des lots que fatalement
J’en approchai premierement ”—
so he begins one of them.
“Le voyant aimer fatalement
Pitie je pris de sa triste aventure”—
Such was her answer, hardly truthful, for she seems to
have loved as instinctively as he. In spite of Maurice
Sceve and Plato, she had hitherto achieved nothing better
than songs for the lute; but now, under Magny’s inspira-
tion, her lyrics acquired a deeper significance and rose from
verse to poetry. Her sonnets to him still vibrate with
emotion and are as simple as his to her—and his “Soupirs”
express the quick experience of his heart. They met in
“ the little gardens ” of the city, and wrote their poems in
the brief hours of their separation. The husband behaved
as conveniently as ever. He came into the room, says