Then Count William tried to make out the meaning of the words, which were fitted into the rhyme of the stanzas in such a way that they could not well be left out. He studied over them till he thought he understood them, though, as it turned out, he was quite mistaken. But as it was a common way with the troubadours to end every stanza with similar lines, which they called the refrain, Count William suspected nothing, and set himself to work to learn the new words.
The time that the king had allowed the rival noblemen was now almost up, and in two days more the song-contest took place.
The great banqueting-hall had been beautifully hung with garlands of flowers and gay banners. At one end of it the king’s throne stood on a dais, and over it swung a scarlet canopy like an enormous poppy-flower turned upside down. In the middle of the room were placed long tables, and in the palace kitchens the cooks were running about busying themselves preparing the great feast that was to follow.
By and by King René came into the hall and took his seat on the throne. He wore a rich robe of purple velvet, embroidered all over in the brightest silks and gold; after him came a great troupe of troubadours and minnesingers, some carrying their own harps or viols, and some followed by little pages who bore their masters’ belongings.
As the good King René looked at his gay company and the brilliantly lighted hall and the long tables, his eyes sparkled with delight, and his heart swelled with joy when he thought of the coming contest; for he was never so pleased as when thus surrounded by his dear troubadours, whom he loved to make in every way as happy as possible.
Then, when all was ready, a gaily dressed herald came into the hall, and kneeling before the king, and bowing to the assembled company, announced the coming of the two counts, William and Reynaurd. All the other troubadours and minnesingers stood up, and King René smiled graciously as the two noblemen entered, followed by their pages, Pierrot and Henri, each of whom carried a viol bedecked with long silken ribbons.
When the counts had saluted the king and taken their places before him, he commanded a seneschal to bear in the prize; and so the beautiful collar of jewels was brought in upon a silver tray and placed on a carved bench beside the king. Then a herald stepped out, and, lifting the collar upon the point of a flower-wreathed lance, displayed it to all the company and announced the terms of the contest of song about to take place.
This ceremony was a great deal better and prettier than the customs of most of the other royal courts of that time. In all the lands except where King René lived, when the people desired entertainment, they used to gather together to see contests called tournaments, in which noble lords tried to overthrow one another with real lances on which were no garlands. But King René could not endure such barbarous displays, and so in his palace no one fought another except with pretty verses, and the best poet was champion.
When all the usual ceremonies had been gone through, the king called Count William to step forth first and sing his song. There was a merry twinkle in the count’s eyes as he took his viol from Henri, hung the silken ribbons about his neck, and then, after striking a few soft notes with the tips of his fingers, began to sing, as his own, the song made up by Count Reynaurd. He went through the whole piece, although each time when he came to the Latin lines he mumbled them over so that the words sounded indistinct, and one could not be certain just what they were.