and droll truths to their master, but with commission to utter sorry jokes and dreary falsehoods, for the purpose of deceiving a nation. I have previously noticed that Blondel, whom tradition makes the discoverer of his captive master, by means of a song, is called, by Bouchez, “that buffoon of a minstrel.” By others he is styled a “troubadour knight.” However much or little of the character of the jester may have entered into the character of the minstrel Blondel, it would not be easy to say. We may speak with more certainty of another of Richard’s minstrels, Anselme Fayditt, whose poetry the Provençal critics eulogized for its wit and good sense, “poésie à bons mots et de bon sens.” A third minstrel, Fouquet de Marseilles, is also celebrated for his ready wit, which made him the “delight of the court.” There probably was some difference of quality in the latter minstrels, for while Fayditt ultimately travelled about the country, on foot, in search of a livelihood, singing songs, and accompanied by a runaway nun who sang as well as Fayditt himself, Fouquet, in strong contrast with such a vagabond, abandoned minstrelsy, turned monk, and became Bishop of Toulouse. Of the above quality were the most favoured _plaisants_ at the Court of Richard. The private households had their jesters of a less refined quality, and the following graphic description of one attached to a Saxon master, is probably as faithful a portrait as could be drawn of a Saxon nobleman’s fool in the days of King Richard the First.