He is presumed to have died in an ambush by
Bulgarian
forces.
Troubador Verse
Lady, by God above,
Since I am yours wholly,
Willingly and humbly,
Grant me of your love,
Your mercy, and pity,
Your prayers, and loyalty,
And do yourself honour:
For I'm burdened by fear,
That I might not aspire
To one whom I desire.
And my heart's rancorous
Towards one who is evil,
Who sends me to the devil,
She, with her Count Rufous,
She's a wolf all over,
Now a count's her lover
Her emperor's on his way,
Who sang her praise all day,
Through the whole world too:
But liars never speak true.
God save the Marquis,
His lovely sister, save,
Her loyal love and brave,
It conquers me anew,
Better still holds me too.
King's daughter, be it so,
A false love fled away
I've a better one today,
Who knows my worth, and who
Does and says things sweet and true.
Notes: The 'wolf' is Loba de Penautier. The vida claims that Vidal called himself Lop because of her and carried the badge of the wolf. He was hunted with dogs in the mountains of Cabaret, and wore a wolfskin to give the scent to the dogs and masters. He was hunted down, beaten and carried half-dead to Loba and her husband who laughed at his folly.
The Count, her lover, was probably Roger of Foix (1188-1223).
The illustrious marquis and his sister are Boniface 1 Marquis of Montferrat and his sister Azalais who married Manfred II, Marquis of Saluces in 1182.
Raimbaut de Vaqueiras (c1155- fl. 1180-d. c1207)
Raimbaut de Vaqueiras, or Riambaut de Vaqueyras, came from Vacqueyras near Orange, Vaucluse. He spent most of his career as court poet and close friend of Boniface I of Montferrat. He joined the Fourth Crusade in 1203 and was present at the siege of Constantinople in 1204.
He is presumed to have died in an ambush by Bulgarian forces.
Altas ondas que venez suz la mar
Deep waves that roll, travelling the sea,
That high winds, here and there, set free,
What news of my love do you bring to me?
What passes there? Never his ship, I see.
And ah, God of Amour!
Now you bring joy, and now dolour.
Ah, sweet breeze, from there, true, you sigh,
Where my love joys, sleeps, and suspires.
A sip of his sweet breath for me, send by.
My lips are parted, so deep my desires.
And ah, God of Amour!
Now you bring joy, and now dolour.
False love he makes, slave of a far country,
Now laughter and jests turn to misery.
I'd not dreamed my friend would ask of me
That I grant him such love as he did seek.
And ah, God of Amour!
Now you bring joy, and now dolour.
Gaita be, gaiteta del chastel
Keep a watch, watchman there, on the wall,
While the best, loveliest of them all
I have with me until the dawn.
