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TROUBADOURS AND M1NNE-SINGERS 337
self, for they are laying waste my land, and burn­ing my crops; they pull up my trees by the roots, and mix my ram with the straw. Cowards and brave men are my enemies. I constantly dis­unite and sow hatred among the barons, and then remould and join them together again, and try to give them brave hearts and strong; but 1 am a fool for my trouble, for they are made of base metal."
We cannot better take leave of the troubadours than by giving two additional specimens of the writing of Bertrand de Born.
The first is an ingenious poem. He has quar­reled with his lady, and as a means of reconcilia­tion he borrows from all the famous beauties of his time, their special charm, and gives them all to his love. The second song will explain itself.*
Domna, puois de mi no us cal, E partit m'aretz de vos, &c.
Lady, since thou hast driven me forth, Since thou, unkind, hast banished me,
(Though cause of such neglect be none,) Where shall I turn from thee? Ne'er can I see
Such joy as I have seen before,
If, as I fear, I find no more
Another fair, from thee removed,
I'll sigh to think I e'er was loved.
And since my eager search were vain, One lovely as thyself to find:
* Taj lor'* " Lays of the Minnesingers,*' p. 229.
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