The full flower of minstrelsy had been the out-at-elbows vagabond, Rutebeuf. The full flower of the _trouvère_ is the comptroller of the customs and subsidies of the port of London, Geoffrey Chaucer. The first distinction, then, made by Guiraut Riquier, that between _trobaire_ and _joglar_, implies a development from within minstrelsy itself that was destined one day to overwhelm it. But the second, that between the _joglar_ and the _bufo_, is precisely the one already familiar to us, between the minstrels of the _scôp_ and the minstrels of the _mimus_ tradition. And, as has been said, it is partly, if not entirely, identical with that which grew up in course of time between the protected minstrels of the court and of great men’s houses, and their vagrant brethren of the road. This general antithesis between the higher and lower mintrelsy may now, perhaps, be regarded as established. It was the neglect of it, surely, that led to that curious and barren logomachy between Percy and Ritson, in which neither of the disputants can be said to have had hold of more than a bare half of the truth[259]. And it runs through the whole history of minstrelsy. It became acute, no doubt, with the growth in importance of the minstrels of honour in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. But it had probably been just as acute, if not more so, at the very beginning of things, when the clash of Teutonic and Roman civilization first brought the bard face to face with the serious rivalry of the mime. Bard and mime merged without ever becoming quite identical; and even at the moment when this process was most nearly complete, say in the eleventh century, the _jouglerie seigneuriale_, to use Magnin’s happy terms, was never quite the same thing as the _jouglerie foraine et populaire_[260], least of all in a country like England where differences of tongue went to perpetuate and emphasize the breach.