The episode of the fate of Joyeuse is an affecting one in the life of the valiant and generous Henry of Navarre.
The treasure was immense that was taken from the gorgeous army destined to overthrow the harassed Huguenots, but literally cut to pieces by the stern and bold, though ragged warriors.

The gold, silver, and jewels that were brought to Henry's tent, after the victory, were heaped on the floor, and the dead body of the beautiful and admired Duke de Joyeuse was brought to him.

Henry turned away, sick at heart, and commanded the corpse to be covered with a cloak, and removed carefully; and desired that all the spoil should be divided amongst the soldiers; holding it beneath him to accept any: nor could he restrain his tears at the sight of so much carnage of those whom he looked upon as his subjects.
THE DEATH OF JOYEUSE.
Between La Roche and Coutras Was heard our battle cry; And still we called--"To arms! to arms!" Our voices rent the sky.
Our king was there with all his men, And all his guards beside, Within, the Duke de Joyeuse, And to the king he cried: "Oh, yield, King Henry, yield to me!"-- "What simple squire art thou, To bid King Henry yield him, And to thy bidding bow ?" "I an no simple squire, But a knight of high degree; I am the Duke de Joyeuse, And thou must yield to me." The king has placed his cannon In lines against the wall,-- The first fire Joyeuse trembled, The next saw Joyeuse fall.
Alas! his little children, How sad will be their fate!-- A nurse both young and pretty, Shall on them tend and wait: And they shall be brave warriors, When they come to man's estate.
The next ballad is in the same strain: THE DEATH OF THE DUKE DE MAINE.
The noble Duke de Maine Is dead or wounded sore; Three damsels came to visit him, And his hard hap deplore.
"Oh! say, fair prince, where is your wound ?" "'Tis in my heart," he said, "'Twill not be many moments Ere you will see me dead." "Oh! call my page, and bid my squire;-- They ink and paper bring;-- For I must write a letter To my cousin and my king." And when the king the letter read, Tears from his eyelids fell; "Oh! who shall lead my armies now.
Who shall command so well!" "Oh! who shall guide my valiant bands To conquest in the fight!-- The Duke de Vendome[33] must succeed,-- He is a gallant knight." [Footnote 33: Antoine de Bourbon.] * * * * * It is seldom now that the tamborine or pipe, celebrated by Despourrins, is heard as an accompaniment to the dances of the peasants.

A violin is the usual music; and the antique and pastoral character is at once destroyed.
Sometimes it is possible to see a real mountain-dance, which is certainly picturesque, if not graceful, and belongs peculiarly to the spot, and the objects which inspired it; as, for instance, _"The Dance of the Wild Goat," "The Dance of the Izard," "La Gibaudrie," "La Ronde du Grand Pic."_ The young men are very agile in these exercises; but, in general, the woman's part is very inferior: they, indeed, seldom dance together, and usually are only spectators.

This seems to indicate an Eastern origin.
There is one exception to this rule in a _ronde_, executed by both sexes, hand-in-hand; but in this the men leap and cut, while the women move their feet slowly and heavily: in fact, they look half asleep, while the young men seem much more occupied with their own feats of agility than with their partners.
As I have not seen any of these dances, nor the peasants in their holiday costumes, I have some difficulty in imagining that there is either beauty or grace amongst them.