gad §, Noi8., May 3. 56.) 
NOTES AND QUERIES. 
347 
Age miir ; Vieillesse, and Décrépitude. The poem 
is of considerable length, and the descriptions of 
each picture much too long to be given here. 
Two fragments will show the great resemblance 
between the way in which he and Shakspeare 
describe the periods in question. The first is part 
of the description of ‘‘ Puéritie,” or from seven 
to fifteen years : 
“ Une pelote en sa main 
De laquelle soir et matin 
El se jouoit par druerie, 
Querant d’enfans la compaignie: 
Comment 4 I’école aloit, 
Et souvent chantoit et baloit 
Se gouvernoit sans terminer 
Et se jouoit a toupiner, — 
A croier avec ses semblables, 
Et conter choses delitables 
A ceulz qui de son temps estoit 
Et 4 lui souvent s’esbatoient ; 
Par ces chemins, par ces voyes 
Queroient des nids par les huyes 
Faisoient chapeaulz par ces bocages, 
Et se gisoient ces ombrages, 
Faisans porée de fleurettes, 
Et @herbes verdes nouvelletes, 
Puis portaient armes et bougons, 
Cueilloient feugitres et jous, 
Pour soulz euls faire la jonchée, 
Et jouoient a chiere liée. 
Aux barres, au tiers, & la quille 
Puis rit, et sault, puis court et brille, &c. &c.” 
The following is part of the description of 
‘“* Adolescence,” or from fifteen to twenty-five 
years of age: 
“ Sy fut pour traite gentement 
Com elle aime esbatement, 
Soulas, joie, et druerie 
Voulant mener joyeuse vie 
Soller, luitier et soy esbatre 
La sepmaine trois fois oa quatre 
Si estait fait son vestement 
De drap vert joliettement, 
Et or cainture et tassette, 
Menu clouée joliette. 
Sollers lachiez, chausses bien faites 
Gans en ses mains beaulz et honnestes, 
Les cheveslz blons et deliez 
D’un grand yert chapel dessuz liez: 
Et comme elle vouloit hanter, 
Ef souvent causer et chanter, 
Puis plan chant, puis le contrepoint, 
En celle n’ent de garde point 
Com el veult fleuter et harper, 
A chascun se vouloit harper 
S’y chevaulchoit joliement 
L’espervier portant liement 
En gibiers pour soy des duire, 
Lui semblait qu’el fust plus grant sire 
Quatre fois qu’el n’avoit vaillant : 
S’y aloit jouant et saillant; ” &c. &c. 
{ 
Abbé de la Rue in his Essais historiques sur les 
Bardes, les Jongleurs et les Trouvéres, gives some 
account of Diese and his works. 
there is but one copy of Le Chemin de Vaillance 
known to exist, and that is to be found in the 
It appears . 
British Museum, King’s MSS., No. 14. E. II. I 
found it in excellent preservation and beautifully 
illuminated. Those who are interested in those 
“bards” would find an hour agreeably spent in 
turning over its antiquated pages. 
H. E. Wizxinson. 
Notting Hill Square. 
CAMBRIDGE JEU D’ESPRIT, 
The following jeu d’esprit was circulated in Cambridge 
at the time when the Prince Consort was elected Chan- 
cellor of the University; the other candidate being the 
Earl Powis. It completely deceived the editor of the 
paper to whom it was addressed, who had no notion that 
he was giving currency to an election squib. There is 
nothing in it to give offence to any one, and it really de- 
serves to be embalmed in “N. & Q.” It was attributed 
CI believe correctly) to a Fellow of King’s of high clas- 
sical reputation. CANTAB. 
N. B. The notes are mine. 
A FRAGMENT TOUCHING THE LYCEUM. 
(To the Editor of ») 
Str,—In an old English author, who (like 
Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy), abounds 
in passages of which the diction is cast in so an- 
tique a mould, that it is difficult to tell whether 
they were originally English, or were literally 
translated from the Greek, I find the following 
curious fragment. A learned friend has conjec- 
tured it to be a translation from Theophrastus, 
but it seems to myself to savour more of the style 
of Eudemus ; and it looks exceedingly like a pas- 
sage from one of the lost books of the Eudemian 
Ethics. Altogether, if the pressure of contem- 
porary politics will allow you to insert it, I think 
it would be found full of interest at the present 
moment to the learned world. The author might 
seem to be of the Cynical School; but the names 
of persons, all nearly contemporary, seem to fix it 
clearly on a Peripatetic teacher. 
I am, Sir, your obedient servant, 
Rusirer CANTAGRIGIENsIs. 
“ Concerning literary men, why they should evermore 
be mercenary, and whether they be so, or whether this be 
a calumny of the multitude, it follows to inquire. Is it 
that, while they say excellent things of the nobleness 
of virtue and the dignity of science, they do not believe 
in them themselves, but repeat what is set down, like 
actors in the mimes? This were altogether base. Or is 
it that, being poor, and not haying a sufficiency of daily 
things, neither gold in their souls, as Plato said, they are 
dragged away, like the incontinent, to act against their 
will the part of servile flatterers? This, again, were 
pitiable. Or is it rather that, where virtue and science 
are studied, not for the sake of good living, but for a 
livelihood, they make the intellect sharp, but leave the 
practical part of the soul no whit the better? Now we see 
this, both in other cases, and especially in Academies, 
where men talk like philosophers, but live like sycophants, 
bowing down greatly to princes. Though some have 
thought this was rather the fault of the elder and craftier 
masters, who wheedle or compel the more generous and 
