With the termination of Lent, however, Venice's season of matchless beauty may be said to begin. When one sees in the shop windows those large, swollen, yellowish cakes called "bocche di dama" ("ladies' mouths"), it is a sign that Easter is at hand. There are eggs everywhere, painted magenta and crimson. Better still, there are flowers, too, at every bridge corner in the Hyde Park region of the city. Their perfume is enchanting. The skies fall in with the universal humour, and show with When-it was all so natural, dear The sweet, fair, foolish scheme When dazzled by spring's smiling skies, I knew we had parted that April day! So we are drifting apart, we two, Nor suffered the swift strange pain; Vaguely you think there is something gone I knew the death-pang that April day, But I held my peace, and you went away. IN TWO PARTS. PART L A WET day at the seaside is a dreary day to spend, and the driest of dry books may then be welcomed as a friend there. ravishing brightness. The lagoon mirrors THE LAWS OF HOWEL THE GOOD. the brilliancy of the heavens, and doubles the beauty of Venice's palaces and churches by reflecting them. Visitors come hither by the hundred daily, to the contentment of every one. The cafés are crowded; so, too, is the promenade before the Cathedral; and the dresses of the promenaders are at least magnificent. The gondoliers smile from ear to ear throughout the happy sunlit day. They have more victims than they dared hope for; and in the evening, when the stars are out, and the moon is over the city, they sing loudly, with a feeling of that indescribable gladness which one inhales with the air of Venice at its best. "Palaces for sale or hire!" exclaim the property brokers in the ears of the strangers. If they cannot dispose of the venerable old edifices at such a season, they may well give up the attempt. LOST. WE are so courteous and kind, we two, We would fight each other's battles still, On what each averred, as when hearts were stirred, We keep the sweet old forms, we two; We would not let one trifle slip, Of the beautiful fanciful thing, Which hope and youth once set to truth Yet, smile, and speak, and act as we may, I base this axiom not on hearsay, but on personal experience, having myself quite lately passed a woefully wet day at a watering-place in Wales-there is really something liquid in the mere alliterationand having found some friendly comfort in the company of an old law-book, In After watching for a while the ceaseless downpour on the sea, I conceived the happy thought that I would spend the day in study. But what was I to read? The morning papers had not come. Wales, the morning papers never do come till the evening. I looked about for books, but could find nothing but some novels; and I somehow feel ashamed of reading novels in broad daylight. By a happy chance just then the landlady looked in for consultation about dinner, which, on a wet day at the sea, is, to my mind, a fit subject for most careful meditation. promptly said her husband had "a goodish few" of books; and, indeed, he was at home, and I should find him in the library —which she miscalled "the kitchen." She Mr. Jones, as I may call him, for his name was really Jones-and I hope that he will pardon me for giving it publicity, other Welshmen having come to the same nominal inheritance-Mr. Jones, on my appeal, placed all his books at my disposal, and told me that he had bought them on the death of the old parson, who, as I remembered, had once preached to me in Welsh a sermon which had made a deep impression on my mind, although I candidly confess I did not comprehend a word of it. Further, learning that I once had been a student of the law, Mr. Jones enquired if I had studied the Laws of Howel Ddathat is, Howel the Good, as we Saxon folk may call him. On my owning, to my shame, that I had never even heard the name of this good gentleman, my landlord gave me a big volume, which contained the old Welsh text, followed by an English version of the laws; and this he very strongly counselled me to read, as he thought it "might amuse" me. The notion of my looking for amusement in a law-book seemed attractive from its novelty, for I had never in my youth found entertainment in such study. I thought, too, that when next I found myself in legal company, I might score a point by reference to the Laws of Howel Dda; whereof I have small doubt that half the judges in the land know as little as they do of the laws of old Lycurgus, or of the ancient Medes and Persians in the days of the prophet Daniel. So I took the volume gratefully, and studied it till dusk; and as it may help to throw some light upon Welsh life in the dark ages, I have leave to print a digest of my wet day's dry law reading. Above a thousand years ago, Howel Dda, the son of Cadell, was successor to his father as King of Old South Wales; the King of New South Wales being then, as well as now, a sovereign unheard of. Some few years before his death, which occurred A.D. 948, or thereabouts, he summoned the Archbishop of Menevia, and the chief of the clergy, together with six wise men from each "cymwd," or county, to meet him at the Royal hunting lodge, then known as "Y Ty Gwyn ar Div," or "The White House on the Tav," near where was built the Abbey of Whitland, in Carmarthenshire. There, after passing all Lent in prayer and fasting, having assembled at that holy season because then every one should be pure, and should do no wrong at a time of purity"-the good King and his counsellors examined the old laws; and some they left unchanged, and others they repealed, and some new laws they enacted. And the King and all his wise men denounced their malediction, and that of all the Cymrythat is, the Welsh nation-upon whomsoever should not obey the laws; and upon the judge who acted without knowing the law, and likewise the worth of wild and tame animals and everything pertaining to them. With this prefatory menace- -a trumpetblast to warn the lazy and unlearnedBook the First begins with the Laws of the Court. Of this there were appointed four-and-twenty special officers; the two first being the Chief of the Household and the Priest, and the list concluding with the Queen's Cook and her Candle-bearer. The King's Cook and his Candle-bearer being previously specified, perhaps it may not be improper to surmise that their Majesties at times preferred to have their meals apart, or invited one another to a cosy little dinner, to stimulate the rivalry of their respective "chefs." All the Court officials were entitled to receive, "by law," their woollen garments from the King, and from the Queen their linen clothing, at the appointed times of Easter, Waitsuntide, and Christmas; and, viewing the big gap between the latter festivals, perhaps the Royal household were prudently enjoined, like our good friend Sam Weller, on receipt of his first livery, to be "wery careful indeed" of their Whit-Sunday suit. The next three paragraphs of the Laws are devoted to the King, the first proclaiming to the world that "the worth of the King is his saraad threefold;" a statement which is rendered a little more intelligible by the knowledge that a "saraad ” signified a fine for injury or death. That kings were precious persons, and that there were more than one of them in Wales, is patent from the mention of the King of Aberfraw, whose saraad was "a hundred cows for every cantref "—that is, hundred townships-" in his kingdom, and a white bull with red ears to every hundred cows, and a rod of gold of the same length as himself and as thick as his little finger, and a plate of gold as broad as his face and as thick as the nail of a ploughman who has been a ploughman for seven years." How thick, upon an average, were the nails of a Welsh ploughman, after seven years of fieldwork in the middle of the tenth century? That is a simple question, suggested by the text, which might be made the subject of most interesting debate by any of our learned antiquarian societies. Of the Queen it is stated that in three ways saraad may be claimed for hernamely, for violating her protection, or for striking her a blow, or for snatching anything out of her hand-which latter acts of rudeness we may hope that the good Howel never suffered at his Court. Her saraad was assessed at one-third of the King's, but was to be paid without gold or silver; as though Her Majesty might possibly submit to have her ears boxed if she could get a nice gold walking-stick or a piece of silver plate by it. As to the Edling, or heir-apparent of the Crown, it is provided that he ought to be the son or nephew of the King. His seat in the Palace is between the Chief Falconer and the "osb "-meaning, probably, the "hospes," or Court guest-and his allowance of meat and drink is to be "without measure": a stipulation which may fairly lead to the surmise that at times the good King's household were put upon short commons. Next to the Edling in the Court precedence stands the Chief of the Householdan officer presumably endowed with a good appetite his allowance being "three messes and three hornfuls of the best liquor that may be in the Palace." The Priest of the Household ranks second to the Chief, but is only to have one mess and one hornful of liquor, no provision being made for its good quality or bad. Among their several perquisites of office, the Chief is once a year to have "four horseshoes with their complement of nails," and the Priest is to have his clothing three times in the year, and a third of the King's tithe, together with a daily Royal offering He is likewise to have the dress worn by the King during Lent, and "a fresh horse when necessary from the King," who may have found it needful for his comfort to lend his horse at times for a preliminary canter when it seemed a little fresh.. at masa. neglected, he "ought only to quench his thirst while in the Palace"; where care was doubtless taken not to let him drink too much. He is to be "honoured with three presents" when his hawks shall kill a bittern, a heron, or a crane; and he is to have "a crone (or fourpence) from the King's villains, and once a year a progress among them"; this being probably the medieval way of sending round the hat. The Law in the tenth century can have hardly been considered a liberal profession. Certainly the Court Judge is by no means very generously treated by the Howellian Code. He is to "administer justice without fee" to everybody at the Palace; and only to "share with the other judges" the twenty-four pence given for each lawsuit about land. He is, however, to receive twenty-four pence from every judge whom he may examine; a privilege which must have made his learned brethren rather shy of coming to his court. He is likewise to have 66 one man's share of the grooms' silver"; and, as if to prove still further what a menial position the poor Judge holds in the household, his "worth" is reckoned at six kine and six score of silver, which is the estimated value of every other servant, counting from the Falconer, and the Page-who ranks above the Butler-down even to the Candle-bearer and the Cook. Next under the Judge is named the Chief Groom, whose seat is on the other side of the screen, next to the King. He is to have a fee of fourpence for each horse the King may give-excepting from the Bishop, the Chief Falconer, and the Jester. For a reason why the Bishop is exempted from the payment, it is said that "he is the King's confessor, to whom the King is to rise and to sit down after him, and to hold his sleeves while he shall wash himself." Customs which show the courtly deference which Kings then paid to the Church. The third place at the Court is held by the Steward, whose saraad is nine kine and nine score of silver. Among the many important duties of his office, he is to "attest the liquor" and to "apportion the supper silver," the latter being specified as fourand-twenty pence to be given among the servants after every banquet whereat mead After the Groom comes the Page, who is has been drunk. Another of his duties is to have his board and lodging in the bedto "swear for the King," and presumably room of the King. He is to make the thereby relieve the Royal conscience from Royal bed—and he is to carry the King's the burthen of bad language, which, being messages, and to take care of his "treasure used by deputy, need not defile the Royal-which is specified as "his vessels, his lips. Next comes the Chief Falconer, who stands high in Royal favour, his place at mess being the fourth man from the King. He is, however, to lodge not in the Palace, but in the King's barn, "lest smoke should affect his birds"; and for fear they be horns, and his rings." He is to have his land free, and his horse in attendance, and likewise the King's old bed-clothes-which seems rather a poor perquisite for a Court officer who owns a freehold and a horse. He may give "protection" - that is, temporary asylum-like others of the household, the privilege having limits according to their rank. Thus, the "protection" of the Falconer is specified as being as far as he shall fly his hawk at a bird; while that of the Page is "from the time one goes to get a burden of straw to put under the King, and, upon his return, make his bed, and spread the clothes thereon at night, until he shall take them off on the morrow, to convey away an offender without pursuit." The eighth of the great persons of the Court is the Bard, who, likewise, is to have his land free and his horse, and his woollen and his linen garments from the King and Queen. At the three chief festivals the Bard is "to have the clothes of the Steward"; who, it may be hoped, had always a spare suit. Like the Judge, he is to have 8 "throwboard of the bone of a sea animal": the game of throwboard being played with a black king and eight black men, against sixteen white men-a sort of monarchy-against-republic game of chess. Another of his perquisites is "a cow or an ox from the booty obtained by the household from a border country"; whence it seems that cattle-stealing was a pastime of the Court. On those festive occasions, "when they share the spoil, he is to sing the Monarchy of Britain' to them "; which may have been a medieval "Rule Britannia," adapted to the predatory spirit of the age. Among his other vocal duties he is to "sing three songs on various subjects after the chaired bard," who is possibly a professional, and not merely a Court singer. If the Queen desire a song, the Bard is to sing to her without limitation-poor Queen-excepting only as to the loudness of the songs. It is sensibly ordained, however, that on these occasions the Bard is to sing "in a low voice, so that the hall may not be disturbed -a condition it might, nowadays, at certain amateur performances be pleasant to enforce. The ninth person of Court note is the Silentiary, or Husher, whose chief duty is to keep silence, and to strike the pillar above the Priest when he blesses the food and chaunts the "Pater." Next comes the Chief Huntsman, who is to hunt the hinds from the first week of February until the Feast of Saint John, at Midsummer. On the morrow of that festival, "stags are to be hunted until the calends of winter," which is rather a vague phrase, and presumably elastic in its interpretation. On the ninth day of these calends he is to hunt wild swine until the calends of December, and then with the other huntsmen, both of covert-hounds and greyhounds, he is to "share the skins," a third of them, however, going to the King. Lest sport be spoiled some fine day, by reason of the Huntsman being hunted by the bailiffs, it is specially provided that throughout the hunting season he is not to answer any claim "unless he be taken before he has risen from his bed and has put on his boots." The privilege of "protection" enjoyed by the Chief Huntsman is "to convey an offender so far that the sound of his horn can scarcely be heard," and that of the Mead-brewer, who comes next him, is "from the time he shall begin to make a vat of mead until he shall tie the covering over it." After the Mead-brewer follows the Doctor, or Mediciner, as he is called, and next to him the Butler; so that the Doctor very probably points a warning finger, as it were, between the givers of strong drink. His is a not very lucrative vocation, it appears, for he is to "administer medicine gratuitously to all within the Palace," and is to have "nothing from them except their bloody clothes," unless, indeed, their skulls be fractured, or they get a broken limb. In such cases, besides the clothes, he is to get nine score pence with his food, or else one pound without it. Other patients are to pay him twenty-four pence, "when he shall apply a tent "-whatever that may be—and half that sum for red ointment. Tae only other fees named are fourpence for letting blood or for applying herbs to cure a swelling, and one penny as being "the worth of a medical pan." He is prudently advised to take an indemnification from the kindred of the wounded person he attends, "in case he die from the remedy" employed; and it is significantly added that "if he do not take it, let him answer for the deed." It is specifically mentioned also, that the worth of the Mediciner is six score of silver and six kine, like that of the Butler; and lest squabbles should arise between him and his patients, it is expressly stated that "his food daily is worth one penny half-penny," a sum which nowadays would hardly be esteemed by a Court doctor sufficient for his board. The fourteenth officer is the Doorward, or Policeman; who "ought to know all the officers of the Court, that he may not stop them at the gate." He is to clear the way with his truncheon for the King, to whom also he is ordered to carry messages from the gate; and "he is not to sit out in the hall; but on his knees to deliver the message to the King." Penultimate among the places at the Court is that of the Cook, who, like the other officers, is to have his clothing and his freehold, and his horse in attendance; though he is to "inhabit the kitchen," and to eat with the servants. By a sensible precaution, he is to "taste each dish that he shall season"; very properly, too, he is to bring the last dish himself, and place it before the King, and "then the King is to present him with meat and drink." Presumably the Cook, if he serves up a bad dinner, is presented with a crust of bread and half a hornful of sour beer. Perhaps the modern art of cookery might somewhat be improved if we revived this medieval way of catering for our cooks. The Candle-bearer is the last on the Court list, but, in his own self-estimation, probably not the least. Among many important duties, he is to hold a candle before the King" opposite his dish while he is eating," whence it may be guessed that a medieval banquet-hall was not a blaze of light. He is also to walk before the King with a candle "when he retires to his chamber," which may be a courtly euphemism for "when he goes to bed." For these and other purposes, the Steward is enjoined to furnish "candles without measure," lest His Majesty be left inopportunely in the dark. The Candlebearer likewise is to light, on State occasions, all the wax candles in the Palace, and he can count among his perquisites "the wax he may bite off their tops." Next follow the laws as to the officers of the Queen, who are but eight in number, being half those of the King. The list begins with her Steward, who is to serve her with meat and drink, and concludes with her Candle-bearer, who, like his fellow-officer, is to enjoy the privilege of biting off the candle-tops, and like him also has the perquisite of all the candle-ends. After these come divers rules and sundry minute details as to eleven other officers, termed "officers by custom," but who must not be confounded with our Custom officers. Captain of the Eleven is the Groom of the Rein, whose duty is to hold the King's stirrup when he mounts or alights, and "always to walk near the King, that he may serve him when necessary -a Royal "cropper" being doubtless deemed possible. The "protection" he may offer is counted from the time that the Court blacksmith shall begin to make four horseshoes with their complement of nails, until he places them under the feet of the King's horse. Second is the Foot-holder, who is honoured with the privilege of eating from the same dish as the King. Moreover, he may do so "with his back to the fire," for he is clearly a most favoured person at the Court. His important duty is to hold the King's feet in his lap-the Palace doubtless being draughty-from the time he shall begin to sit at the banquet until he goes to sleep. He is likewise enjoined to "rub the King," and during dinner-time to "guard him against every mischance "—including, possibly, a choking fit from swallowing a fish-bone, or a too sudden fit of somnolence caused by a prosy speech. Next comes the Land-maer, or Bailiff, who is to order the field labour, and has generally the guidance of the tenants of the Court. He is to have their "ebediw," or heriot, and his wife their daughters' "amobyr," or marriage-fee. He is also to get threescore pence from every person entering his jail, a privilege which doubtless leads to some abuse. Be The fourth of the Eleven is known as the Apparitor, whose office is to "stand between the two pillars, with a rod in his hand, and watch lest the house should be burned whilst the King is at meat." sides his fireman's duties, he is likewise a sort of judge, it being stated that "if the Apparitor be sitting, and is insulted while causes are trying, he is to have no other compensation than a sieve of oats and an egg-shell." His apparition in a house wherein a death has taken place must be alarming to its inmates, seeing that "he is to have the meat and butter in cut, the lowest stone of the quern, the green flax, the lowest layer of corn, the hens, the cats, the fuel axe, and the headland or the skirts of corn uncut." The Porter is the next, and his services are various and his perquisites are vast. He is to go on errands throughout the Palace gratis, and is to have the remains of the cheese he toasts. He is to get ready the Palace by lighting the fire and ordering a supply of straw; and he is to have a handful of every small gift, such as fruit, and eggs, and herrings, that goes through the gate. He is to act as apparitor over the "maertrev," or demesne; and of the pigs captured in pillage, and passing |