Its author is the Italian Marquis Lanza, and it runs thus: ‘We have an emperor without sense or reason or consciousness; a worse drunkard never sat on a throne; no greater coward wore shield and lance, no greater scoundrel made verses and _canzos_. I wish a sword would split his head, and an iron dart go right through his body; his eyes ought to be torn out of his head with hooks. Then we will give him some wine, and put on his head an old scarlet hat, and for a lance he may have an old stick. So he may safely wander from here to France.’ Peire Vidal answered this friendly address with equal warmth. ‘Marquis Lanza,’ he says, ‘poverty and ignorance have spoilt your manners. You are like a blind beggar in the street, who has lost all shame or decency.’ It would hardly have been expected that, with all this trouble about his loves and his empire, the poet could have had time left to take part in the real political and religious struggles of his age. But his versatile genius was as much interested in public affairs as in his own private concerns. As one of the first poets of his time he was in continual intercourse with princes and nobles, and in consequence had ample means of knowing the politics of his protectors, and frequent occasion to use his poetical gift on their behalf. Among his most constant friends was King Alfonso II. of Aragon, at whose court the chief poets of the time gathered, and found shelter from poverty and contempt. The King himself practised the art of poetry; and we possess a _canzo_ by him which, if not of the first excellence, shows at least that he did not shrink from competing for the prize in the ‘Gaia Sciensa.’ According to his liberality so was the praise awarded to him in the songs of the most renowned troubadours. Bertran de Born, indeed, accuses him of treason and cowardice, but the passionate character of that poet made him unscrupulous in his attacks on political and personal enemies. Peter II., Alfonso’s son, inherited his father’s disposition towards the troubadours, and it was a great loss to them when he fell in the battle of Muret (1213) against the Crusaders. Peire Vidal was among the greatest favourites of both father and son. Alfonso once had suits of armour of the same kind made for himself and the poet, a striking mark of friendship in so great a prince. The poet showed his thankfulness by the only return he had to offer, his songs. Several of his _canzos_ are dedicated to Alfonso, whose side he took in all the Kings wars and feuds. The very first _sirventes_ we have of Peire’s refers to the war between Alfonso and Count Raimon of Toulouse, and, notwithstanding the poet having been born in that city, it is an ardent war-song in favour of the intruder. The author, however, could not on this occasion withstand his natural inclination towards self-praise, and by his immoderate boasting lessened the effect of his song. ‘If I only had a good horse,’