when Bouchart rode round and round the lists on the animal, crying aloud, “This is the horse which would not go to the jousts!” So they kept high revel on the Isthmus; alas! it was the last great display of the chivalry of “New France”; six years later, many a knight who had ridden proudly past the dames of the Morea, lay a mangled corpse on the swampy plain of Bœotia, the victim of the knife of Aragon. Besides tournaments, hunting was one of the great attractions of life in mediæval Greece; we hear, too, of an archery match in Crete, at which the archers represented different nations; we are told of great balls held in Negroponte, which the gay Lombard society of that island attended; and mention is made of the jongleurs who were attached to the brilliant Court of Thebes. Muntaner, who knew Duke Guy II and had visited his capital, has given us a charming account of the ceremony in the Theban Minster, when the last De la Roche came of age and received the order of knighthood—“a duty which the King of France or the Emperor himself would have thought it an honour to perform, for the Duke was one of the noblest men in all Romania who was not a King, and eke one of the richest.” The episode gives us some idea of the wealth and splendour and open-handed generosity of the Burgundian Dukes of Athens. In conclusion, I should like to say something about Frankish influence on the language and literature of Greece. We are specially told that the Franks of Achaia spoke most excellent French; but, at the same time, there is direct evidence, that in the second generation, at any rate, they also spoke Greek. The _Chronicle of the Morea_ describes how Prince William of Achaia after the battle of Pelagonia addressed his captor in that language, and Duke John of Athens, according to Sanudo, once used a Greek phrase, which is a quotation from Herodotus. Later on, the Florentine Dukes of Athens drew up many of their documents in Greek, just as Mohammed II employed that language in his diplomatic communications. The Venetian Governors of Eubœa, however, who held office for only two years, had to employ an interpreter, who is specially mentioned in one of the Venetian documents. While a number of French feudal and Italian terms crept into the Greek language, as may be seen in the Cyclades at the present day, and especially in the Venetian island of Tenos, the Franks covered the map of Greece with a strange and weird nomenclature. Thus, Lacedæmonia became “La Crémonie,” the first syllable being mistaken for the definite article; Athens was known as “Satines,” or “Sethines,” Thebes as “Estives,” Naupaktos as “Lepanto,” Zeitounion, the modern Lamia, as “Gipton,” Kalavryta as “La Grite,” Salona as “La Sole,” Lemnos as “Stalimene,” and the island of Samothrace as “Sanctus Mandrachi.” Most wonderful transformation of all, Cape Sunium becomes in one Venetian document “Pellestello” (πολλοὶ στῦλοι), from the “Many columns” of the