The flats persist until the cadence, where the superius evades occursus with the altus by means of a
temporary escape to the third. That third, to remove any doubts caused by the previous infusion of flats, is
designated major by specific sign—what we would call a “sharp” or “natural,” which to a fifteenth-
century singer meant “sing mi.” And of course it comes on the “-fa-” of the name “Du Fay”! (And that is
why the composer signaled his insistence on a three-syllable pronunciation of the name with the modified
letter “ÿ.”) It was an inescapable pun for a composer who enjoyed signing his name, both in letters and in
musical documents, with the rebus shown in Fig. 13-1. The note on the staff, a C, is “fa” in the “hard”
hexachord specified by the composer’s first initial, G.
FIG. 13-1 Du Fay’s rebus signature.
This solmization-inversion, paltry musicians’ in-joke though it may be, nevertheless sparked the
creation of one of the most affecting passages in the pre-Reformation sacred repertory. Nor is this the first
time we have found the lowest form of wit producing, or helping to produce, the highest level of
expression. Du Fay certainly recognized the pathos of what he had created and quoted it in the Mass he
wrote to accompany his Ave regina coelorum motet at memorial services after his death (Ex. 13-4).
Almost needless to say, the quotation comes in the second Agnus Dei, the only tenor tacet section of the
Mass that includes the word “Miserere.” There is no analogue to the second pun on “Du-fa-ÿ” here; the
harmonic shift, though suggested by the pun, is no longer dependent on it for its effect.
EX. 13-4 Guillaume Du Fay, Missa Ave Regina coelorum, Agnus II