al sentiments of Roland or Ogier,
Raoul or Huon, is a fact in itself. And it is also a fact that in the
_fabliaux_ and other light verse of the time we find _jongleurs_
presented as boasting of the particular _chansons_ they can sing.

[Sidenote: Jongleresses, _&c._]

But the enumeration of the kinds of _jongleurs_--those itinerant,
those attached to courts and great families, &c.--would lead us too
far. They were not all of one sex, and we hear of _jongleresses_ and
_chanteresses_, such as Adeline who figures in the history of the
Norman Conquest, Aiglantine who sang before the Duke of Burgundy,
Gracieuse d'Espagne, and so forth--pretty names, as even M. Gautier,
who is inclined to be suspicious of them, admits. These suspicions, it
is fair to say, were felt at the time. Don Jayme of Aragon forbade
noble ladies to kiss _jongleresses_ or share bed and board with them;
while the Church, which never loved the _jongleur_ much, decided that
the duty of a wife to follow her husband ceased if he took to
jongling, which was a _vita turpis et inhonesta_. Further, the pains
above referred to, bestowed by scholars of all sorts, from Percy
downwards, have discovered or guessed at the clothes which the
_jongleur_ and his mate wore, and the instruments with which they
accompanied their songs. It is more germane to our purpose to know, as
we do in one instance on positive testimony, the principles (easily to
be guessed, by the way) on which the introduction of names into these
poems were arranged. It appears, on the authority of the historian of
Guisnes and Ardres, that Arnold the Old, Count of Ardres, would
actually have had his name in the _Chanson d'Antioche_ had he not
refused a pair of scarlet boots or breeches to the poet or performer
thereof. Nor is it more surprising to find, on the still more
indisputable authority of passages in the _chansons_ themselves, that
the _jongleur_ would stop singing at an interesting point to make a
collection, and would even sometimes explicitly protest against the
contribution of too small coins--_poitevines_, _mailles_, and the
like.

It is impossible not to regard with a mixture of respect and pity the
labour which has been spent on collecting details of the kind whereof,
in the last paragraph or two, a few examples have been given. But they
really have very little, if anything, to do with literature; and what
they have to do with it is common to all times and subjects. The
excessive prod