Latest news with #OldFrench
Local France
7 days ago
- General
- Local France
French Word of the Day: Dérober
Why do I need to know dérober? Because this verb might confuse you if you are trying to understand a news story. What does it mean? Dérober - roughly pronounced day-row-bay - may look like it has to do with taking your clothes off, but in reality, it means 'to steal or take'. The more commonly used synonym is voler (to steal). You'd be forgiven for confusion around the story of the Greenpeace stealing the wax figure of French President Emmanuel Macron as part of a protest. The French press kept referring to the figure as having been dérobé , but not to worry - this meant it was stolen, not undressed. The verb dérober originated in the 12th century, and it comes from the Old French term rober , which is borrowed from the Low Latin raubare and the Germanic term raubon , meaning to steal, loot or pillage. As you might have guessed, the English verb 'to rob' also comes from the Old French rober . Advertisement Oddly enough, the noun robe (dress in French) also came from the same word root, referring to the 'spoils of war' and then a 'garment that has been stolen from someone'. Eventually, it went on to refer to tunics and women's dresses. However while English has kept 'disrobe' as a fancy way of saying to get undressed, this is not used in French where déshabiller is the word for taking your clothes off. Use it like this Des militants ont dérobé la figurine de cire du président français Emmanuel Macron. - Activists stole the wax figurine of French President Emmanuel Macron. Le voleur m'a dérobé dans le métro. J'ai marché jusqu'au poste de police pour porter plainte. - The thief robbed me on the Metro. I walked to the police station to lodge a complaint.
Borneo Post
25-05-2025
- Borneo Post
My botanical affair: Falling in love again at Kew Gardens
I have always found joy wandering through gardens, whether in Malaysia or abroad. From the tranquil trails of Sandakan's Rainforest Discovery Centre to Singapore's futuristic Gardens by the Bay and the timeless grace of all the Royal Botanic Gardens. Each visit nourishes something deep within me. So when I had a chance to revisit the legendary Kew Gardens in Richmond on a recent UK trip, I didn't hesitate. Some fall in love in Paris, others lose their hearts in Venice. Me? I found my second great botanical romance at Kew – lush, leafy, and utterly irresistible. As a botany student at UKM, Kew shimmered in my textbooks like a faraway green paradise. I was no stranger to the plant world: from oil palm estates to chilly labs, stomatal debates to tree-whispering, chlorophyll coloured much of my life. At Cambridge, I dove deeper into the science of plant breeding – yet Kew remained a missed stop, just beyond reach. My first visit came only a few years ago. This was my second, but somehow, it felt richer, perhaps laced with nostalgia. I came for two reasons: to savour the lushness of this living sanctuary, especially the majestic Palm House, and to reflect on Kew's quiet but vital role in the history of the oil palm, a plant that transformed tropical landscapes, including Malaysia's. Now retired, I was no longer racing clocks. I wandered freely, breathed deeply and let wonder take the lead. Aging slows your step, but sharpens your gaze. What I felt was not discovery but rediscovery. As a believer in God the Creator, I see more than beauty in plants. I see design in the symmetry of petals, intention in leaf veins, divinity in the miracle of photosynthesis and more. Even palm oil metabolites carry whispers of awe about God. That day, in the soft spring light beneath ancient canopies, I fell in love again, not just with plants, but with their stories. Their quiet power to connect science and soul, memory and meaning. Kew doesn't just display flora, it honours them, welcomes them like old friends. And for one glorious day, it felt like Mother Nature threw a garden party and I made the guest list. Oh, and if you're curious: 'Kew' comes from Old French kai (landing place) and Old English hoh (spur of land) fitting for its Thames-side perch. On this visit, I was fortunate to make a few thoughtful stops around Kew – each one a quiet marvel. Here's a little glimpse of what I discovered. Titan Arum: The Bloom That Clears the Room Stepping into the Palm House at Kew Gardens feels like slipping into a tropical dream – humid, green, and a world away from London's usual tempo. The air thickens with warmth and the earthy scent of damp foliage, while towering palms and broad-leafed giants reach skyward, their fronds grazing the glass dome that filters golden, dappled light. On this visit, I was blessed with a rare sight – one that quite literally stops you in your tracks: the Titan arum, also known as the corpse flower. In Bahasa Indonesia, it's 'bunga bangkai' – the dead body flower. Aptly named, gloriously grotesque and absolutely not for the faint of nose. I haven't seen this botanical beast in a while, but it's gearing up for a bloom and that's no small event. Towering up to three metres tall, with one of the largest inflorescences in the plant kingdom, the titan arum doesn't just flower, it stages a spectacle. Its claim to fame? That stench. A noxious cocktail of dimethyl trisulfide found in rotting flesh and sautéed leeks – makes this plant a master of morbid marketing. It doesn't politely invite pollinators. It screams: 'Free buffet for carrion beetles and flesh flies!' Native to the rainforests of Sumatra though some smelly cousins lurk in parts of Borneo, the Titan arum blooms perhaps once every decade. And even then, the window of pungent glory lasts just 48 – 72 hours. Miss it, and it's gone. Smell it, and it's forever burned into memory. The Titan's blooms have been witnessed by lucky visitors in botanical gardens throughout the world. Indonesian planters may speak of this mythical jungle marvel in hushed tones, but few have witnessed its grotesque grandeur. And yet here it is, under glass at Kew – young, brooding and preparing its olfactory ambush. So, if you ever find yourself at Kew and catch a whiff of something suspicious wafting through the Palm House, don't hold your breath. You might just be in time for the world's greatest stink-show. And trust me, it's worth every eye-watering second. Old Age Plant (OAP) in Palm House (for many others aka Old Age Person!) Meet the OAP of the plant world in the Palm House – the Eastern Cape giant Cycad at Kew Gardens. This leafy legend, officially the oldest pot plant on Earth, weighs over a tonne and towers above four metres tall. But don't be fooled by its grandeur; it's been chilling in its tropical Palm House since 1775. That is 250 years old! How did this ancient green giant get here? Thanks to Kew's original plant hunter named Francis Masson, who braved months at sea to bring it from South Africa's Eastern Cape. Imagine strapping a giant, palm-like plant to the deck of a wooden sailing ship – soaked by rain, basking in sunlight all the way to London. Once it arrived, it was ferried up the Thames by barge, finally settling into its new home. So, next time you spot this botanical heavyweight, remember: it's not just a plant, it's a survivor with tales taller than itself and a lot more leaves! Princess Tree with a Dowry Dream While strolling through a quiet grove in Kew, I stumbled upon an elegant tree with heart-shaped leaves that fluttered like whispered secrets in the breeze. It was Paulownia kawakamii – the Sapphire Dragon Tree. What a name! Equal parts poetry and fantasy. Honestly, who names trees like this? It's as if botanists moonlight as mythmakers Curious, I leaned in and found myself caught not just by its beauty, but by its story. This was no ordinary tree. This was a Paulownia, Japan's beloved kiri or Princess Tree. And it comes with an age-old tale worth telling. In Japanese tradition, when a baby girl is born, a kiri tree is planted in her honour. Fast-growing and noble in stature, it's not just a leafy ornament – it's a living time capsule. By the time the daughter is grown and ready to marry, the tree, too, is mature. Its fine-grained wood, light but strong, is then crafted into a beautiful dowry chest, rich with meaning and ready to carry keepsakes into her new life. Named after Anna Pavlovna, daughter of Tsar Paul I, this East Asian native has royal flair with humble roots. And while it may not come with a tiara, it wears its legacy with leafy pride. So there I was, unexpectedly wrapped in a moment where botany met tradition, and a simple tree whispered a centuries-old tale of daughters, dreams and dowries. Who knew an afternoon wander could bloom into such a story? Lily Giants: A Splash of Wonder at Kew's Lily House I stepped into the Lily House at Kew Gardens and instantly felt like I'd wandered into a botanical fairy tale where I had somehow shrunk to the size of a curious insect in a giant's greenhouse. This was no ordinary glasshouse. It was the watery kingdom of Victoria amazonica, the legendary giant water lily. Their enormous leaves, that can stretch over two metres wide, can float like regal green platters across the pond. Strong enough to support a small child (though best not to try – Kew's staff aren't fans of impromptu science experiments), they looked like nature's very own lily-shaped trampolines. This time, the lilies were still young – think awkward, oversized teenagers – but already hinting at the grandeur to come. I also wandered over to the Princess of Wales Conservatory, where another family of lilies put on their own elegant show. Here, with 10 computer-controlled climate zones, this conservatory is a glassy labyrinth leading visitor through a series of fascinating ecosystems. Clearly, at Kew, water lilies don't just bloom – they perform on site. The Lily House and the Conservatory are magical splash of grandeur and grace – proof that in the plant kingdom, sometimes bigger really is better. The Mighty Oak Gets a Digital Glow-Up This spring and summer, Kew Gardens decided it was time to celebrate one of Britain's botanical legends – the oak tree – with all the flair of a West End premiere. I happened to be there amid the leafy fanfare and stumbled upon 'Of the Oak', a glorious 6-metre-tall LED spectacle that had both nature-lovers and tech geeks gawking in awe. It was innovative, immersive and judging by its grandeur, probably not cheap. But oh, was it worth it. Created by the wildly inventive collective Marshmallow Laser Feast (yes, that's their real name and yes, they're as creative as they sound), this 12-minute interactive video installation transforms the humble Lucombe oak into a digital diva. Standing tall like a portal to an enchanted forest dimension, it guides you through the oak's transformation across all four seasons with visuals and sound that make you feel like you're inside the tree, or perhaps becoming the tree. Reminds me of the movie Avatar. You don't just see leaves change colour. You're taken on a hypnotic journey beneath the bark to witness the flow of water and nutrients, the oak's subtle act of carbon sequestration via its underground mycelial web aka nature's own WiFi, and the quiet release of oxygen that keeps us all breathing. Oh, and let's not forget the 2,000+ species that depend on this tree, because every great oak throws a party for the entire ecosystem. How did they pull this off? With a blend of sci-fi wizardry and cutting-edge tree-hugging. The team used LiDAR scanning to create a precise 3D model of the oak, photogrammetry to capture the fine textures of its leaves and limbs, and even Ground Penetrating Radar (cue futuristic soundtrack) to map its root system. This isn't just art. It's a high-tech love letter to one of nature's grandest elders. 'Of the Oak' isn't just a tribute. It's an immersive wake-up call that reminds us we're not separate from the natural world, but very much a part of it. Marshmallow Laser Feast's genius lies in turning data into wonder, science into story and trees into stars. I am just imagining if we can one day soon do the same tribute for oil palm. Temperate House Closed – A Botanical Letdown I have to say, I was genuinely disappointed to find the Temperate House closed during my visit – apparently for maintenance. I wasn't alone; many visitors wore the same puzzled, let-down look. What baffled me more was the lack of any announcement on the website. Surely, a heads-up about scheduled closures is the least a world-class garden could do? I even met an English lady in a wheelchair with her daughter, both equally crestfallen after planning their trip around this very highlight. No lush plants, no dreamy strolls through the Temperate House – just empty promises. A little courtesy goes a long way, especially when visitors travel far hoping for a green escape. Here's hoping next time, Kew remembers to send out an RSVP before closing the doors on eager plant lovers! Whispers in Bronze: The Beauty of the Leaf Spirit at Kew This spring, many days were kissed by golden sunlight, stretching lazily past 7 p.m. under flawless skies. It felt as though I had smuggled a sliver of Malaysia's tropical glow across continents, sharing a whisper of warmth with the UK, with love from Malaysians. As I was about to leave Kew after a long, soul-stirring day, something made me pause. Tucked quietly among the foliage stood Simon Gudgeon's Leaf Spirit – a serene bronze face unfurling from sculpted leaf forms, its open spaces offering glimpses of the garden beyond. It wasn't just a sculpture; it was an invitation. To breathe. To be still. To remember that nature doesn't shout; it whispers. In that tranquil moment, I felt embraced by the Leaf Spirit, as if it gently said, 'Rest here awhile.' It was a soft farewell, a promise of return. In a world spinning ever faster, this quiet companion reminded me that true beauty isn't only found in dazzling blooms – but in the silence between them. Farewell for Now, Dear Kew Visiting Kew Gardens was truly a memorable experience I want to share with first-timers. Nestled on 300 acres in southwest London, Kew Gardens is much more than a park – it's a living museum of over 50,000 plant species from around the globe. Transportation to get there is convenient. Its origins date back to the 1750s as part of the royal estate, blossoming into a world-renowned botanical garden and research center. The gardens played a crucial role in the history of plant science and global botanical exploration. For first-time visitors, I recommend setting aside a full day, wearing comfortable shoes and taking your time to absorb the beauty and science intertwined here. Kew is a perfect blend of history, nature and discovery – an oasis where the past and present of botany meet. As I leave the winding paths and hidden corners of Kew Gardens, I carry with me memories of leafy whispers, vibrant blooms and moments of quiet wonder. You have been a gracious host, a sanctuary of nature's marvels and human creativity intertwined. Though our time together is drawing to a close, I know this is not goodbye – just a gentle 'until we meet again.' I look forward to returning, to uncover new stories, new blossoms and that familiar sense of peace you can offer. Chelsea Flower Show – Or the One That Got Away Extra. As I flew back, a cheeky thought bloomed in my mind – I'd just missed the Royal Horticultural Society (RHS) Chelsea Flower Show. Tragic. Officially dubbed the Great Spring Show, this annual floral fête, held from 20–24 May this year, is the crown jewel of garden shows. Hosted by the RHS at Chelsea since 1912, it's graced by the green thumbs of royalty and horticultural heroes alike. But fret not. In true London fashion, when the Chelsea Flower Show is in town, the city becomes one giant bouquet. Storefronts, sidewalks, even street signs, everything is abloom. It's as if the whole capital of London sighs in petals and perfumes. They call it the world's greatest flower show, and for good reason. It's not just a garden show; it's horticultural haute couture. Think cutting-edge garden design, show-stopping floral installations, and enough plant envy to make your plants blush. Alas, I missed it. But let's be honest, if I'd stayed any longer, it might've turned into another love story. And I've already got enough tales to tell. Next time, maybe.
Yahoo
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Medieval tale of Merlin and King Arthur found hiding as a book cover
Sign up for CNN's Wonder Theory science newsletter. Explore the universe with news on fascinating discoveries, scientific advancements and more. Researchers have found pages of a rare medieval manuscript masquerading as a cover and stitched into the binding of another book, according to experts at the Cambridge University Library in England. The fragment contains stories about Merlin and King Arthur. The two pages are from a 13th century copy of the 'Suite Vulgate du Merlin.' The manuscript, handwritten by a medieval scribe in Old French, served as the sequel to the legend of King Arthur. There are just over three dozen surviving copies of the sequel today. Part of a series known as the Lancelot-Grail cycle, the Arthurian romance was popular among aristocrats and royalty, said Dr. Irène Fabry-Tehranchi, French specialist in collections and academic liaison at Cambridge University Library. The stories were either read aloud or performed by trouvères, or poets, who traveled from court to court, she said. Rather than risk damaging the brittle pages by removing the stitches and unfolding them, a team of researchers were able to conduct imaging and computed tomography, or CT, scans to create a 3D model of the papers and virtually unfurl them to read the story. Fabry-Tehranchi, one of the first to recognize the rarity of the manuscript, said finding it 'is very much a once in a lifetime experience.' The scans revealed book-binding techniques from the distant past and hidden details of the repurposed manuscript that could shed light on its origins. 'It's not just about the text itself, but also about the material artefact,' Fabry-Tehranchi said in a statement. 'The way it was reused tells us about archival practices in 16th-century England. It's a piece of history in its own right.' Former Cambridge archivist Sian Collins first spotted the manuscript fragment in 2019 while recataloging estate records from Huntingfield Manor, owned by the Vanneck family of Heveningham, in Suffolk, England. Serving as the cover for an archival property record, the pages previously had been recorded as a 14th century story of Sir Gawain. But Collins, now the head of special collections and archives at the University of Wales Trinity Saint David, noticed that the text was written in Old French, the language used by aristocracy and England's royal court after the Norman Conquest in 1066. She also saw names like Gawain and Excalibur within the text. Collins and the other researchers were able to decipher text describing the fight and ultimate victory of Gawain, his brothers and his father King Loth versus the Saxon Kings Dodalis, Moydas, Oriancés, and Brandalus. The other page shared a scene from King Arthur's court in which Merlin appears disguised as a dashing harpist, according to a translation provided by the researchers: 'While they were rejoicing in the feast, and Kay the seneschal (steward) brought the first dish to King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, there arrived the most handsome man ever seen in Christian lands. He was wearing a silk tunic girded by a silk harness woven with gold and precious stones which glittered with such brightness that it illuminated the whole room.' Both scenes are part of the 'Suite Vulgate du Merlin' that was originally written in 1230, about 30 years after 'Merlin,' which tells the origin stories of Merlin and King Arthur and ends with Arthur's coronation. '(The sequel) tells us about the early reign of Arthur: he faces a rebellion of British barons who question his legitimacy and has to fight external invaders, the Saxons,' Fabry-Tehranchi said in an email. 'All along, Arthur is supported by Merlin who advises him strategically and helps him on the battlefield. Sometimes Merlin changes shape to impress and entertain his interlocutors.' The pages had been torn, folded and sewn, making it impossible to decipher the text or determine when it was written. A team of Cambridge experts came together to conduct a detailed set of analyses. After analyzing the pages, the researchers believe the manuscript, bearing telltale decorative initials in red and blue, was written between 1275 and 1315 in northern France, then later imported to England. They think it was a short version of the 'Suite Vulgate du Merlin.' Because each copy was individually written by hand by medieval scribes, a process that could take months, there are distinguishing typos, such as 'Dorilas' instead of 'Dodalis' for one of the Saxon kings' names. 'Each medieval copy of a text is unique: it presents lots of variations because the written language was much more fluid and less codified than nowadays,' Fabry-Tehranchi said. 'Grammatical and spelling rules were established much later.' But it was common to discard and repurpose old medieval manuscripts by the end of the 16th century as printing became popular and the true value of the pages became their sturdy parchment that could be used for covers, Fabry-Tehranchi said. 'It had probably become harder to decipher and understand Old French, and more up to date English versions of the Arthurian romances, such as (Sir Thomas) Malory's 'Morte D'Arthur' were now available for readers in England,' Fabry-Tehranchi said. The updated Arthurian texts were edited to be more modern and easier to read, said Dr. Laura Campbell, associate professor in the School of Modern Languages and Cultures at Durham University in Durham, England, and president of the British branch of The International Arthurian Society. Campbell was not involved in the project, but has previously worked on the discovery of another manuscript known as the Bristol Merlin. 'This suggests that the style and language of these 13th-century French stories were hitting a point where they badly needed an update to appeal to new generations of readers, and this purpose was being fulfilled by in print as opposed to in manuscript form,' Campbell said. 'This is something that I think is really important about the Arthurian legend — it has such appeal and longevity because it's a timeless story that's open to being constantly updated and adapted to suit the tastes of its readers.' Researchers captured the documents across wavelengths of light, including ultraviolet and infrared, to improve the readability of the text and uncover hidden details, as well as annotations in the margins. The team carried out CT scanning with an X-ray scanner to virtually peer through the parchment layers and create a 3D model of the manuscript fragment, revealing how the pages had been stitched together to form a cover. The CT scans showed there was likely once a leather band around the book to hold it all in place, which rubbed off some of the text. Twisted straps of parchment, called tackets, along with thread reinforced the binding. 'A series of specialised photographic equipment such as a probe lens as well as simple accessories such as mirrors were used to photograph otherwise inaccessible parts of the manuscript,' said Amélie Deblauwe, a photographer at Cambridge University Library's Cultural Heritage Imaging Laboratory. The research team digitally assembled hundreds of images to create a virtual copy of the pages. 'The creation of these digital outputs including the virtual unfolding, traditional photography, and (multispectral imaging) all contribute to the preservation of the manuscript in its reused form, while revealing as much of the original contents as possible,' Deblauwe said. The researchers believe the methodology they developed for this project can be applied to other fragile manuscripts, especially those repurposed for other uses over time, to provide a nondestructive type of analysis. The team plans to share the methodology in an upcoming research paper.
Local France
09-05-2025
- General
- Local France
French Word of the Day: Cadet
Why do I need to know cadet? Because this word has another usage outside of the military. What does it mean? Cadet - roughly pronounced kah-day - is a word you might be familiar with in English, but it actually comes from France originally. The term in English has a military connotation these days, but in France it still holds another meaning. It is used to refer to the second or youngest son (usually the son, or fils cadet , but occasionally daughter, or fille cadette ). As such, your French friend might introduce their toddler son as their fils cadet , or you might read a headline introducing a celebrity or politician's family with the children outlined in this way. Originally, the word for the younger child was puîné , basically meaning puis né (born after), in contrast to aîné , which comes from the Old French ainz né (which itself evolved from the Latin ante natus ). People still use the term aîné to describe the oldest child, but most people don't use puîné anymore, as it has been replaced by cadet for some time. Advertisement Cadet has an interesting history. It comes from the Occitan term capdet , which likely came from Latin as well ( capitellus , coming from caput , meaning head). It was a diminutive meaning 'little head' and eventually 'the younger' or 'the junior'. As for the connection with the military - in the Middle Ages, the tradition for wealthy, land-owning families was that the first son inherited the property, while the second son joined the military and the third was sent to the clergy. In the 15th century, writers started referring to the Gascon officers in the military of the kings of France, many of whom were second sons. Later on, cadet became the designation for a gentleman serving as a low officer or soldier. Technically, a cadet (or cadette for girls) can be any child after the first, unlike the word Benjamin which is only ever used to refer to the last sibling (a reference to the Bible character of Benjamin, the last child of Jacob). Use it like this Ma fille cadette est plus sage que son âge. - My youngest daughter is wiser than her years. Le prince Harry est le fils cadet du roi Charles III au Royaume-Uni. - Prince Harry is the younger son of King Charles III in the UK.
Fox News
13-04-2025
- Science
- Fox News
Experts shocked by ancient King Arthur manuscript found tucked inside book: 'Survived the centuries'
Historians recently unveiled a rare 13th-century document depicting the tales of King Arthur and Merlin – and its survival is considered a miracle. The discovery was announced by the University of Cambridge on March 25. The manuscript is part of the Suite Vulgate du Merlin, a French-language rendering of the story of King Arthur. Arthur has been depicted as a legendary Briton king for several centuries, though his existence has been doubted by most historians. In 2019, the fragile manuscript was discovered in an unlikely place in a Cambridge library – tucked in as the binding for an old book. "The manuscript had survived the centuries after being recycled and repurposed in the 1500s as the cover for a property record from Huntingfield Manor in Suffolk, owned by the Vanneck family of Heveningham," the university's statement noted. "It meant the remarkable discovery was folded, torn and even stitched into the binding of the book - making it almost impossible for Cambridge experts to access it, read it or confirm its origins," the university said in a news release. Thanks to modern technology – including multi-spectral imaging, computed tomography and 3D modeling – experts were able to scan and create a virtual image of the manuscript without risking any damage to it. "Using mirrors, prisms, magnets and other tools, the team at CHIL [Cultural Heritage Imaging Laboratory] carefully photographed each section of the fragment," the university said. "The hundreds of resulting images were then painstakingly reassembled digitally, much like a jigsaw, to create a coherent image of the text." "By manipulating the digital images, the team could simulate what the document might look like if it were physically opened." Each copy of the Suite Vulgate du Merlin was unique, as they were individually handwritten by medieval scribes, and fewer than 40 copies are known to exist. The Cambridge copy was written between 1275 and 1315. "The text is written in Old French, the language of the court and aristocracy in medieval England following the Norman Conquest," the news release said. "This particular fragment belongs to the genre of Arthurian romances [that] were intended for a noble audience, including women." The university added that the manuscript "tells two key episodes from the end of the Suite Vulgate du Merlin." "The first part recounts the victory of the Christians against the Saxons at the Battle of Cambénic," the statement reads. "It tells of the fight of Gauvain (with his sword Excalibur, his horse Gringalet and his supernatural powers), his brothers, and his father King Loth, against the Saxon Kings Dodalis, Moydas, Oriancés and Brandalus." It went on, "The second passage presents a more courtly scene, set on the Feast of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, with Merlin appearing at Arthur's court disguised as a harpist – a moment that highlights his magical abilities and his importance as an advisor to the king." The University of Cambridge even included a translated passage from the book – which painted a vivid scene of life in medieval England. "While they were rejoicing in the feast, and Kay the seneschal brought the first dish to King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, there arrived the most handsome man ever seen in Christian lands," the passage read. "He was wearing a silk tunic girded by a silk harness woven with gold and precious stones which glittered with such brightness that it illuminated the whole room." The fragile document even contains small errors – such as calling the Saxon king Dodalis "Dorilas" – but those errors will only help specialists trace the manuscript's lineage. "As every manuscript of the period was copied by hand, it means each one is distinctive and reflects the variations introduced by medieval scribes," the British university said. "The way the manuscript has been carefully executed, with decorated initials in red and blue, gave further clues to its origins and helped indicate that it was produced between the end of the 13th and the beginning of the 14th century."
