The entry of Queen Yolanda (Violante) into Zaragoza was a resplendent function, and, despite their habitual taciturnity, the citizens hailed the lovely consort of their King with heartiest acclamations. In her train came minstrels and glee-maidens from Champagne and Burgundy, from Provence and the Valley of the Rhine and Languedoc. Such merry folk were unknown in phlegmatic Aragon. To be sure, they had their poets, their dances and their songs, but they were the semi-serious pastimes of the sturdy Basque mountaineers. The _Académie des Jeux Floraux_ of Toulouse,--newly founded in 1323, and better known there as the _Collège du Gaye Sçavoir_,--sent an imposing company of minstrels to greet the new Queen of Aragon at Narbonne--the city of romance and song--and to offer her a spectacular serenade beneath the balconies of the Archiepiscopal Palace, where she and her suite were accommodated. With them they bore golden flowers and silver with which Royal Violante should crown the laureates, and to Her Majesty they offered a great amaranth of gold, together with the diploma of a _Mainteneuse_. Acclaimed “Queen of Troubadours,” her motley train swept through the cities of the coast and crossed the Spanish frontier. One and all offered her their true allegiance--to live and dance and sing and die for Yolanda d’Arragona. If the Aragonese were noted for stubbornness,--and of them was curtly said: “The men of Aragon will drive nails in their heads rather than use hammers,”--they have a sound reputation for chivalry. King Iago II. established this characteristic in an edict in 1327. “We will,” ran the royal rescript, “that every man, whether armed or not, who shall be in company with a lady, pass safely and unmolested unless he be guilty of murder.” Courting an _alegra señorita_, whether of Aragon, Catalonia, or Valencia, was the duty of every lad, albeit the fair one jokingly called it “_pelando la pava_” (plucking the turkey). The royal romance was a charming example for all and sundry, and many an amorous French troubadour had his wings cut by Prince Cupid and never went home again at all, and many a glee-maiden, to boot, plucked a “turkey” of Aragon!