In avoiding the conspicuous lapses of his predecessors Raymond with all his guile fell into another pitfall. He lauded the Rose, the Daisy, the Garland of Vine Leaves worn by Eleanor, Marguerite, and Beatrice in three canzonets so perfect in form, so exquisite in diction that they rivalled the ditties of Thibault of Champagne, who was hitherto accounted as having written "the most delightful and most melodious canzonets that at any time were heard." But in doing this he exhausted all terms of endearment and admiration which he could command, and when he attempted to celebrate the Peach Blossom he could only repeat utterances already made, so that his conclusion was an anticlimax, bad in art and unfortunately giving the impression that he was more enamoured of Sancie's sisters than of herself. The insincerity of his graceful verse was apparent to all. Sordello and Boniface who had nodded their appreciation at the conclusion of the first, second, and third canzonets, scowled and coughed at the fourth, and though there was applause sufficient to gratify this poet's vanity it misled him as to the impression which he had made upon his judges. Richard knew not that Raymond had over-shot his mark; it seemed to him that he had surely won, and that it was useless for him to offer his halting verses, save as a tribute of genuine feeling. Such they were, and honesty even in literature and courtship is some whiles best policy. But one thought had sunk itself in his distracted brain since noting what flower his beloved carried, how that Sancie was Flower o' the Peach and be the others what they might she was the flower of all flowers to him. He had no knowledge of the complicated metres with which Provencal troubadours played so deftly, but he had been in Italy and had marked how the peasants bandied back and forth their bright _stornelli_ as though the quick play were that of ball, the thought striking the fancy and deftly handled as it leapt from one to the other of the players. Therefore he modestly announced that he would strive to imitate in the _langue d'oc_ certain of these _stornelli a fiore_ trusting that their rudeness and brevity might be forgiven.[7] Queen Eleanor was crowned with roses and was throned beneath a canopy of those royal flowers. To her Richard, accompanying himself upon the lute, addressed his first _stornello_: "Flower o' the Briar-- Though high on her trellis the Rose o' the Briar, Sits supreme o'er the garden my heart clambers higher." "How may that be," laughed Eleanor, "if I am 'supreme o'er the garden?' 'Tis enough for me; but I see not how you can o'ertop that compliment. Let me hear what you have to say to my sister of France." Marguerite, as befitting her name, wore daisies, and squaring his shoulders Richard sang lustily, "Flower o' the Marguerite; Queen of the garden, fair Reine Marguerite, If my heart were not captive 't would lie at your feet."