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Updated: May 13, 2025
At noon, when the white sun trembled at the zenith, Le Jongleur urged his donkey forward, and presented to Elaine a glorious rose which he had found blooming at the wayside. "The poem is finished, your highness," he breathed, doffing his cap, "but 'tis all unworthy, so I bring thee this rose also, that something in my offering may of a certainty be sweet."
A sleek mule with red trappings was brought round from some neighboring shed for the physician, and he ambled away with much dignity upon his road to Southampton. The tooth-drawer and the gleeman called for a cup of small ale apiece, and started off together for Ringwood fair, the old jongleur looking very yellow in the eye and swollen in the face after his overnight potations.
To such a society the strongly realistic Carolingian epic had ceased to appeal: the tales of the Welsh and Breton bards, repeated by trouvère and jongleur, troubadour and minnesinger, came as a revelation.
Well read, accomplished, easy and fluent of speech, the lord of a harem of mistresses, the centre of a gay court where poet and jongleur found a home, Henry remained cool, self-possessed, clear-sighted, hard, methodical, loveless himself, and neither seeking nor desiring his people's love, but wringing from them their gratitude and regard by sheer dint of good government.
Le Jongleur held aloft his bauble, making it to nod in merry fashion, but the Lord of Content did not see, his eyes being fixed upon Elaine.
She snatched it up, saying in a tone of irony and contempt, "I had forgotten the dutiful slave waits an answer to his message. How's this from the Soldan!" She hastily ran over the contents, which were expressed both in Arabic and French, and when she had done, she laughed in bitter anger. "Now this passes imagination!" she said; "no jongleur can show so deft a transmutation!
Just look at the Times, Bob, and see if the piece is advertized yet." "I should think so, by Jupiter," said Marmaduke, patiently interrupting his meal to open the newspaper. "Here is a separate advertisement for everybody. 'The latest Parisian success. La petite Maison du Roi. Music by M. de Jongleur. Mr. Faulkner has the honor to announce that an adaptation by Mr.
In the Roman de Rou, a verse chronicle of the dukes of Normandy, written by the Norman Wace, it is related that at the battle of Hastings the French jongleur, Taillefer, spurred out before the van of William's army, tossing his lance in the air and chanting of "Charlemagne and of Roland, of Oliver and the peers who died at Roncesvals."
Nobody can live there today by making verses, and the representative of the jongleur, who once sang from castle to castle to the accompaniment of the mediaeval fiddle, and who was so heartily welcomed at all the baronial feasts and merrymakings, is now a wandering beggar, who gathers crusts from the peasants by his rude minstrelsy, that changes from the pious to the obscene, or from the obscene to the pious, as the character and taste of the audience may decide.
He could not guess what deep significance lay behind the Englishman's threat, and, to tell the truth, Brett himself was considerably astonished at the effect of his vague insinuations, but he lost not a moment in following up the advantage thus gained. "Well," he said, "tell us now who it was that sent you to the Turks with the diamonds?" "It was Le Jongleur, Henri Dubois."
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