Troubadour Tales

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by Evaleen Stein




  Produced by Giovanni Fini, David Edwards and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)

  Troubadour Tales

  Troubadour Tales

  _By_ Evaleen Stein

 

  With Illustrations By Virginia Keep Maxfield Parrish B. Rosenmeyer & Edward Edwards

  Indianapolis The Bobbs-Merrill Company Publishers

  Copyright 1903 The Bobbs-Merrill Company

  July

  _Printed in the United States of America_

  PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOK MANUFACTURERS BROOKLYN, N. Y.

  To My Mother

  Contents

  THE PAGE OF COUNT REYNAURD 1

  THE LOST RUNE 27

  COUNT HUGO’S SWORD 76

  FELIX 132

  Troubadour Tales

  THE PAGE OF COUNT REYNAURD

  HOW HE EARNED THE FAVOR OF KING RENÉ AND WON A SILVER CUP FOR CLEVERNESS IN THE LATIN TONGUE

  “PIERROT! Pierrot! are thy saddle-bags well fastened? And how fare mylutestrings? Have a care lest some of them snap with jogging over thisrough bit of road. And, Pierrot, next time we pass a fine periwinklethou hadst best jump down and pluck a fresh bunch for my Barbo’s ears.”

  The speaker, Count Reynaurd of Poitiers, patted the fluffy black maneof his horse Barbo, and loosened the great nosegay of blue flowerstucked into his harness and nodding behind his ears. Barbo was gailydecked out; long sprays of myrtle dangled from his saddle-bow, and awreath of periwinkle and violets hung round his neck; for the CountReynaurd was not only a noble lord, but also a famous troubadour. Thatis to say, he spent his time riding from castle to castle, playing onhis lute or viol, and singing beautiful songs of his own making.

  In the days when he lived, which was many hundred years ago, therewere numberless such poet-singers strolling over the sunny land ofFrance, and especially that part which lies to the south and is calledProvence. Many of the greatest of these kept little pages to waitupon them and carry their musical instruments; and so it was thatPierrot rode a little white palfrey by the side of Count Reynaurd, andcarried his lute, and gathered the periwinkle for the gay bouquets thatdecorated Barbo’s ears.

  It was May-time, and they were journeying through the lovely land ofProvence, which was quite enough to make any one happy, and the countand Pierrot were fairly brimming over with good humor as they rodealong. They were bound for the old town of Aix, where in those daysstood the palace of the good King René, whom everybody loved.

  Now, King René himself was a troubadour, although he could not wanderabout over the country as did the others, but was obliged to stay inAix and govern his people. Yet he spent hours and hours every daywriting poetry and making up music for it; and he delighted above allthings to gather about him all who could finger a lutestring or sing amerry song. There were always dozens of fine troubadours staying withKing René, and he was never weary of adding to their number, and ofseeking out the best in France; and so it chanced he had heard much ofthe great skill of Pierrot’s master and also of another noble lord, theCount William of Auvergne. The friends of each of these boasted thatnone other in all France was worthy to be called the champion of thetroubadours. So René had sent messages to both, inviting them to comeand visit him, and to hold a contest of song, saying he would give abeautiful collar of jewels to the one who sang the better.

  In response to this invitation, the Count William was already in Aix,having come the day before, after a long journey from his castle inAuvergne. He was now resting, awaiting the Count Reynaurd, and pleasinghimself in thinking of the glory of winning the jeweled collar; for hefully expected by and by to carry it off as his prize.

  Meantime, Count Reynaurd and Pierrot trotted gaily along the road toAix. The almond-trees were in flower, and from one of them Pierrot hadbroken a little switch covered with rosy blossoms, with which he nowand then tapped the flank of his little white palfrey, who would thenkick up her heels and frisk along at a rollicking pace. Pierrot’s ownlegs looked lovely in party-colored hose, the right being a beautifulpearl-gray and the left a delicate robin’s-egg blue; his doublet was ofpink silk embroidered in silver and slashed with white satin; and onhis head he wore a jaunty cap with a long feather. He was a handsomelittle fellow, with bright eyes and dark curls, and as gay and livelyas the great black crickets that live in Provence.

  His master, Count Reynaurd, looked very stately in a suit ofplum-colored velvet, with a collar of fine lace fastened with a goldenviolet, which he often felt, so as to be sure he had not lost it andthat it was still tightly clasped. For the gold violet was a prizethat the count had just won in the town of Toulouse, whither, everyMay-time, all the troubadours used to go and hold great contests,called the Games of Flowers. At these games each one sang a song, andthe most skillful received prizes, a violet of gold and a rose ofsilver being the most wished for.

  So Count Reynaurd was very proud and happy thinking how finely theviolet would serve to clasp the collar of jewels he expected to winfrom King René, and he smiled pleasantly when Pierrot called out to him:

  “See, my Lord! are not those the high towers of Aix?”

  Count Reynaurd looked ahead, and, sure enough, far in the distance rosethe city of Aix. They set their horses a-galloping, and in a littlewhile found themselves riding through its quaint, crooked streets, tillthey reached the great square where stood the king’s palace. This was avery beautiful one, strangely built, with two ancient round towers anda wide porch with many pillars; all about it was a lovely garden fullof orange and acacia trees, and sweet roses and jasmines clambered overeverything.

  Count Reynaurd and Pierrot dismounted at the palace gate, and wereled into the great hall where sat King René, wearing a blue robeembroidered in bright flowers. He was an old man, and his hair andlong beard were quite white, but he was gay and happy-hearted asPierrot himself. When he saw the Count Reynaurd enter the hall, hearose from his throne and came down and embraced and kissed him, andpatted Pierrot kindly. For René was not like most kings, who are veryparticular to have everybody about them as stiff and uncomfortable aspossible.

  Then presently the Count William, who had been walking in the garden,hearing of the arrival of Reynaurd, came hurrying in, his own littlepage Henri following close upon his heels. He greeted Count Reynaurdvery cordially, for he had often met him at the games of Toulouse, andthe little pages Henri and Pierrot soon became the best of friends also.

  As the day was now drawing to a close, the good old king invited themall into the banquet hall, where were already gathered numbers oftroubadours, and minnesingers who were the troubadours of Germany.Some were eating and drinking; some were telling stories or makingup poetry; while still others were playing on all sorts of musicalinstruments, and were altogether having the jolliest kind of time.

  Reynaurd and Pierrot were very hungry after their long ride, and sowere glad to sit down at one of the long tables while the king’sseneschals brought in roasted boar’s-head and venison pasties, andlarge baskets of the fi
ne white bread of Provence and of brownmarchpanes, which were nice little old-time French cookies full ofraisins and covered with nuts and poppy-seeds.

  Pierrot waited upon his master very prettily, and then feasted upondainties to his heart’s content, all the while listening with delightto the gay songs of the troubadours and minnesingers. By and by hiscurly head began to nod, and he fell asleep while still munching amarchpane, and slept so soundly that he had to be shaken when it wastime to go upstairs, where a little cot was spread for him close to thegreat canopied bed of the Count Reynaurd.

  So the days passed merrily on. But when, time after time, King Renéfixed a day for the contest between the Counts Reynaurd and William,they would plead that they were not ready; for they had grown so lazyand pampered by the life they led in the palace that they dawdled awaytheir time in idle pleasure.

  At last the king grew impatient, and declared that he would shut themup, each in his own room, where they must stay for ten days composingtheir songs; and he commanded that then they should appear before him,and be judged and rewarded according to their

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