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 "Et albirar ab lor bordon—" Foix' count knew that. What is Sir Bertrans' singing?

Maent, Maent, and yet again Maent, Or war and broken heaumes and politics?

End fact. Try fiction, Let us say we see En Bertrans, a tower-room at Hautefort, Sunset, the ribbon-like road lies, in red cross-light, South toward Montaignac, and he bends at a table Scribbling, swearing between his teeth, by his left hand Lie little strips of parchment covered over, Scratched and erased with al and ochaisos. Testing his list of rhymes, a lean man? Bilious? With a red straggling beard? And the green cat's-eye lifts toward Montaignac.

Or take his "magnet" singer setting out, Dodging his way past Aubeterre, singing at Chalais In the vaulted hall, Or, by a lichened tree at Rochecouart Aimlessly watching a hawk above the valleys, Waiting his turn in the mid-summer evening,