THE TROUBADOURS.

Qui gais non es, com chantara?

E si chanta, qui l'auzira?

PISTOLETA.

TROUBADOURS.

THE COUNTESS DE DIE.

LA COMTESSE DE DIE belongs to the second half of the 12th century. Her history is generally connected with that of Rambaud d'Aurenga (Orange); and the songs of each relate to their mutual passion.

A chantar m'er de so qu' ieu no volria,
Tan me rancur de sel cui sui amia;
Quar ieu l'am mais que nulha res que sia;
Vas lui no m val merces ni cortezia,

Ni ma beutatz, ni mos pretz, ni mos sens;
Qu'en aissi m sui enganada e trahia,
Cum s'ieu agues vas lui fag falhimens.

I SING of one I would not sing,

Such anguish from my love hath sprung;
I love him more than earthly thing;
But beauty, wit, or pleadings, wrung
From my heart's depth, can gain for me
Nor gratitude nor courtesy ;
And I am left, deceived, betray'd,

Of him, like frail or faithless maid.

On one sweet thought my soul has dwelt,― That my unchanging faith was thine; Not Seguis for Valensa felt

A love more pure and high than mine: In all beside thou art above

My highest thoughts-but not in love,-
Cold as thou art, and proud to me,
To others all humility.

Yet must I wonder, gazing there

On that severe and chilling mien :

It is not just, another fair

Should fill the heart where I have been:

Whate'er her worth, remember thou
Love's early days, love's fondest vow;
Heaven grant no idle word of mine
Have caused this cold neglect of thine!

When I remember all thy worth,

Thy rank, thy honours,-well I see

There cannot be the heart on earth

That would not bend in love to thee:

But thou, whose penetrating eyes

Can quickly pierce through each disguise,
The tenderest, truest, heart wilt see,
And surely then remember ME.