"undoubtedly" the case, giving cogent reasons in support of his
contention. But modern scholarship, in the person of Gaston Paris,
has decided that the King was Henry the Second, of pious memory; the
Count, William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury, his natural son by Fair
Rosamund; and that Marie must be placed in the second half of the
twelfth century. This shows that scholarship is not an exact science,
and that such words as "doubtless" should not be employed more than
necessary. A certain Eastern philosopher, when engaged in instructing
the youth of his country, used always to conclude his lectures with
the unvarying formula, "But, gentlemen, all that I have told you is
probably wrong." This sage was a wise man (not always the same thing),
and his example should be had in remembrance. It seems possible (and
one hesitates to use a stronger word) that the "Lays" of Marie were
actually written at the Court of Henry of England. From political
ambition the King was married to Eleanor of Aquitaine, a lady of
literary tastes, who came from a family in which the patronage of
singers was a tradition. Her husband, too, had a pronounced liking for
literature. He was fond of books, and once paid a visit to Glastonbury
to visit King Arthur's tomb. These, perhaps, are limited virtues, but
Henry the Second had need of every rag. It is somewhat difficult to
recognise in that King of the Prologue, "in whose heart all gracious
things are rooted," the actual King who murdered Becket; who turned
over picture-books at Mass, and never confessed or communicated. It is
yet more difficult to perceive "joy as his handmaid" who, because of
the loss of a favourite city, threatened to revenge himself on God, by
robbing Him of that thing--_i.e._, the soul--He desired most in him;
and whose very last words were an echo of Job's curse upon the day
that he was born. Marie's phrases may be regarded, perhaps, as a
courtly flourish, rather than as conveying truth with mathematical
precision. If not, we should be driven to suggest an alternative to