ch the child tinkles, to its
evident delight and wonderment; another, with a perverted sporting
instinct, seems to be trying to catch fish with a ladle (note the
usual little channelled way, on which a bird is perched, refreshing
itself), whilst a third is picking fruit. The three squires are
doubtless talking of the chase, for, in my lady's presence, love would
hardly be their theme. And all around are beautiful flowers--roses,
lilies, and irises. Over against the enclosing wall is the usual bank
of earth, faced with wood to keep it the necessary height, and planted
with many flowers. This raised portion enabled those in the garden to
get a view over the surrounding country, and to have a point of
outlook in case of attack. It also served as a seat; for at
intervals, between the flowers and sweet-scented herbs, portions were
covered with turf.

[Illustration: _Photo. Macbeth._

HARL. MS. 4425, BRIT. MUS.

_To face page 186._]

Of all the flowers in the garden the rose "red and pale" was the
greatest favourite, and many different sorts were planted there. To so
many purposes were they put, and so great was the demand for them,
that large quantities of roses frequently served as the payment of
vassals to their lord. They were used for strewing the floor at the
wedding-feast, or at the entertaining of some great baron. The fresh
petals were sprinkled over the surface of the water in the bath, and
were distilled to make the rose-water with which the knights and
ladies washed their hands and faces when they left their
much-curtained beds. Further, they were specially prized for garlands,
the making of which was one of the favourite occupations of the ladies
of the Middle Ages. Dante, who sums up the spirit of the Middle Ages
from the simplest reality to the sublimest ideal, alludes to garlands
and garland-making as amongst the joys of the Earthly Paradise. In his
poet's vision of the pageant of the Church Militant he sees the last
company wreathed with red roses, emblems to him of Charity or Love.
Boccaccio, in a more mundane atmosphere and a less august assemblage,
also introduces us to this mediaeval love of garlands. In a preamble to
one of his tales he gives a dainty picture of the manners and pastimes
of the gay folk of his day. Of the merry company, which his fancy
makes to quit plague-stricken Florence for the country, where they
tell stories to prevent monotony, he relates that, after dining in the
cool shade