A change of rhyme from strophe to strophe—rims singulars—is rare, and, as a rule, found only where the stanza is very long and artificially composed. An example occurs in a song by Peire Cardinal, each stanza of which consists of no less than fifteen lines. Gaucelm Faidit and the Monk of Montaudon have used rims singulars also in shorter and simpler stanzas. The ‘Leys d’Amors’ gives no rule as to their use, but confirms indirectly what has been said, by giving as an example a very long and complicated stanza. Directly opposed to the rims singulars are the rims or coblas unisonans, where all the stanzas of a poem have the same rhymes in the corresponding lines. Sometimes poems of this kind are very long, so that the poet had to find a great number of consonant words, which however, in the _langue d’oc_, was not as difficult as it would have been in one of the Teutonic languages. But in spite of this some of the German minnesingers, such as Count Rudolf of Neuenburg and Friedrich von Hausen, who were under the influence of the troubadours, tried to compete with them in the richness of their rhymes and the variety of their stanzas. Of Friedrich von Hausen a song remains, which is an exact imitation, in one stanza even a translation, of one of Folquet de Marseilles’ canzos, which the German poet probably learned during the crusade of 1190, on which he accompanied the Emperor Frederick I. Sometimes the stanzas of a poem are grouped together in twos, threes, or fours, by means of equal rhymes. Such cases are described by the ‘Leys d’Amors’ as coblas doblas, triplas, &c. The better to display their skill, the greatest artists among the troubadours liked to choose for their rhymes rare and unusual words, the meaning of which, at the same time, was not easy to discover. The greatest master in these ‘rims cars,’ and ‘motz oscurs,’ was Arnaut Daniel, whom Dante, very likely for that reason, calls the first of all troubadours. But Peire d’Alvernhe also says of his poems, as a proof of their high art, ‘qu’apenas nulhs hom las enten.’ To give an idea of this obscurity, which, however, did not increase by any means the beauty of a canzo, it will suffice to quote a stanza from one of Arnaut Daniel’s poems, entirely written in rims cars: En breu brizaral temps braus, el bizel brunel e brancs qui s’entresenhon trastug, desobre claus rams de folha, car no chant’ auzels ni piula m’ensenh amors, que fassa donc tal chan qui n’er segons ni tertz, ans prims d’afrancar cor agre.