La Tour has given us seed of drama in the passage above rendered. He has left us also an epic in his straightforward prose. Piere de Maensac was of Alverne (Auvergne) a poor knight, and he had a brother named Austors de Maensac, and they both were troubadours and they both were in concord that one should take the castle and the other the trobar.' And presumably they tossed up a marabotin or some such obsolete coin, for we read, 'And the castle went to Austors and the poetry to Piere, and he sang of the wife of Bernart de Tierci. So much he sang of her and so much he honoured her that it befell that the lady let herself go (furar a del). And he took her to the castle of the Dalfin of Auvergne, and the husband, "in the manner of the golden. Menelaus," demanded her much, with the church to back him and with the great war that they made. But the Dalfin maintained him (Piere) so that he never gave her up. He (Piere) was a straight man (dreitz om) and good company, and he made charming songs, tunes and the words, and good coblas of pleasure.' And among them is one beginning 'Longa saison ai estat vas amor Humils e francs, y ai faich son coman.' Dante and Browning have created so much interest in Sordello that it may not be amiss to give the brief account of him as it stands in a manuscript in the Ambrosian library at Milan. 'Lo Sordels si fo di Mantovana. Sordello was of Mantuan territory of Sirier (this would hardly seem to be Goito), son of a poor cavalier who had name Sier Escort (Browning's El Corte), and he delighted himself in chançons, to learn and to make them. And he mingled with the good men of the court. And he learned all that he could and he made coblas and sirventes. And he came thence to the court of the Count of St Bonifaci, and the Count honoured him much. And he fell in love with the wife of the Count, in the form of pleasure (a forma de solatz), and she with him. (The Palma of Browning's poem and the Cunizza of Dante's.) And it befell that the Count stood ill with her brothers. For a long time have I stood toward Love And thus he estranged himself from her, and from Sier Sceillme and Sier Albrics. Thus her brothers caused her to be stolen from the Count by Sier Sordello and the latter came to stop with them. And he (Sordello) stayed a long time with them in great happiness, and then he went into Proenssa where he received great honours from all the good men and from the Count and from the Countess who gave him a good castle and a wife of gentle birth.' The luck of the troubadours was as different as their ranks, and they were drawn from all social orders. We are led away far indeed from polite and polished society when we come to take note of that Gringoire, Guillem Figiera, son of a tailor; and he was a tailor; and when the French got hold of Toulouse he departed into Lombardy. And he knew well trobar and to sing, and he made himself joglar among the townsfolk (ciutadins). He was not a man who knew how to carry himself among the barons or among the better class, but much he got himself welcomed among harlots and slatterns and by inn-keepers and taverners. And if he saw coming a good man of the court, there where he was, he was sorry and grieved at it, and he nearly split himself to take him down a peg (et ades percussava de lui abaissar).' For one razzo that shows an unusual character there are a dozen that say simply that such or such a man was of Manes, or of Cataloigna by Rossilon, or of elsewhere, 'a poor cavalier.'* They made their way by favour at times, or by singing, or by some other form of utility. Ademar of Gauvedan 'was of the castle Marvois, son of a poor knight. He was knighted by the lord of Marvois. He was a brave man but could not keep up his estate as knight, and he became jongleur and was respected by all the best people. And later he went into orders at Gran Mon.' Elias Cairels was of Sarlat; ill he sang, ill he composed, ill he played the fiddle and worse he spoke, but he was good at writing out words and tunes. And he was a long time wandering, and when he quitted it, he returned to Sarlat and died there.' Perdigo was the son of a fisherman and made his fortune by his art. Peirol was a poor knight who was fitted out by the Dalfin of * For example, Peire Bremon and Palazol. Auvergne and made love to Sail de Claustra; and all we know of Cercamon is that he made vers and pastorelas in the old way and that 'he went everywhere he could get to.' Pistoleta 'was a singer for Arnaut of Marvoil, and later he took to trobar and made songs with pleasing tunes and he was well received by the best people, although a man of little comfort and of poor endowment and of little stamina. And he took a wife at Marseilles and became a merchant and became rich and ceased going about the courts.' Guillems the skinny was a joglar of Manes, and the capital letter shows him throwing 3, 5, and 4, on a red dice board. Never had he on harness, and what he gained he lost malamen, to the taverns and the women. And he ended in a hospital in Spain.' The razzos have in them the seeds of literary criticism. The speech is, however, laconic. Aimar lo Ners was a gentleman. 'He made such songs as he knew how to.' Aimeric de Sarlat, a joglar, became a troubadour, ‘and yet he made but one song.' Peire Guillem of Toulouse 'Made good coblas, but he made too many.' Daude of Pradas made cansos per sen de trobar,' which I think we may translate 'from a mental grasp of the craft.' 'But they did not move from love, wherefore they had not favour among folk. They were not sung.' We find also that the labour and skill were divided. One man played the viol most excellently, and another sang, and another spoke his songs to music, and another, Jaufre Rudel, Brebezieu's father-in-law, made good tunes with poor words to go with them. The troubadour's person comes in for as much free criticism as his performance. Elias fons Salada was 'a fair man verily, as to feature, a joglar, no good troubadour.'† But Faidit, a joglar of Uzerche, was exceedingly greedy both to drink and to eat, and he became fat beyond measure. And he took to wife a public woman; very fair and well taught she was, but she became as big and fat as he was. And she was from a rich town Alest of the Mark of Provenca from the seignory of En Bernart d'Andussa.' * Richard of Brebezieu (disia sons). + The 'joglar' was the player and singer, the 'troubadour' the 'finder or composer of songs and words. 6 One of the noblest figures of the time, if we are to believe the chronicle, was Savaric de Mauleon, a rich baron of Peitieu, whom I have mentioned above, son of Sir Reios de Malleon; lord was he of Malleon and of Talarnom and of Fontenai, and of castle Aillon and of Boet and of Benaon and of St Miquel en Letz and of the isle of Ners and of the isle of Mues and of Nestrine and of Engollius and of many other good places.' As one may read in the continuation of this notice and verify from the razzos of the other troubadours, he was of the most open-handed men in the world.' He seems to have left little verse save the tenzon with Faidit. 'Behold divers estate between them all!' Yet, despite the difference in conditions of life between the 12th century and our own, these few citations should be enough to prove that the people were much the same, and if the preceding notes do not do this, there is one tale left that should succeed. 'The Vicomte of St Antoni was of the bishopric of Caortz (Cahors), Lord and Vicomte of St Antoni; and he loved a noble lady who was wife of the seignor of Pena Dalbeges, of a rich castle and a strong. The lady was gentle and fair and valiant and highly prized and much honoured; and he very valiant and well trained and good at arms and charming, and a good trobaire, and had name Raimons Jordans; and the lady was called the Vicontesse de Pena; and the love of these two was beyond all measure. And it befell that the Viscount went into a land of his enemies and was grievously wounded, so that report held him for dead. And at the news she in great grief went and gave candles at church for his recovery. And he recovered. And at this news also she had great grief.' And she fell a-moping, and that was the end of the affair with St Antoni, and thus was there more than one in deep distress.' 'Wherefore' Elis of Montfort, wife of William à-Gordon, daughter of the Viscount of Trozena, the glass of fashion and the mould of form, the pride of 'youth, beauty, courtesy,' and presumably of justice, mercy, longsuffering, and so forth, made him overtures, and successfully. And the rest is a matter of so much sweetness and honey that I do not venture to transcribe it. If humanity was much the same, it is equally certain that individuals were not any more like one another; and this may be better shown in the uncommunicative canzoni than in the razzos. Thus we have a pastoral from the sensitive and little known Joios of Tolosa: 'Lautrier el dous temps de pascor which runs thus: 'The other day, in the sweet time of Easter, I went across a flat land of rivers hunting for new flowers, walking by the side of the path, and for delight in the greenness of things and because of the complete good faith and love which I bear for her who inspires me, I felt a melting about my heart and at the first flower I found, I burst into tears. 'And I wept until, in a shady place, my eyes fell upon a shepherdess. Fresh was her colour, and she was white as a snow-drift, and she had doves' eyes,' and the rest of it. And in very different key we find the sardonic Count of Foix, in a song which begins mildly enough for a spring song: 'Mas qui a flor si vol mesclar,' and turns swiftly enough to a livelier measure: 'Ben deu gardar lo sieu baston E nous fizes in carcasses Ni en genes ni en gascon.' My purpose in all this is to suggest to the casual reader that the Middle Ages did not exist in tapestry alone, nor in the 14th century romances, but that there was a life like our own, no mere sequence of citherns and citoles, nor a continuous stalking about in sendal and diaspre. Men were pressed for money. There was unspeakable boredom in the castles. The chivalric singing * 'Let no man lounge amid the flowers |