Chief among her admirers was Bernard de Ventadour, whose verse has received high praise from the poet Petrarch. Of humble birth, he won the interest of the viscount of the castle, who gave him a good education. In those days this training consisted in knowing how to be courteous and well behaved, and how to compose a song and sing it. Bernard, after exercising his growing powers on the beauties of spring, the fragrance of flowers, and the music of the nightingale, turned his attentions to the charms of the young viscountess, which he sung with such success that one day the object of his praises, in a fit of rapture, bestowed a kiss upon him. Enraptured by this, he sang his eulogies with still more boldness, until he roused the jealousy of the lord of the castle, who locked up his young spouse, and drove the Troubadour from the district. He took refuge at the court of Eleanor, for whom he conceived a second and more passionate adoration, and whom he followed to England. But Henry was either more indulgent or more indifferent, and no further quarrels came.

The atmosphere of refinement brought into the rude life of the castle by the Troubadours is more than offset by the domestic infelicity they caused. Each of these knight-errants of literature was supposed to choose a lady-love, and it made no difference if she were already married. Thus conjugal fidelity was at a very low ebb, while amorous intrigues were openly encouraged by what amounted to a definite system of civilization. To settle the many vexed questions arising from this state of affairs, the Courts of Love were formed, at which noble ladies decided all disputed points. Most famous of these courts was that of Queen Eleanor herself, while among the others were those of the ladies of Gascony, the Viscountess of Narbonne, the Countess of Champagne, and the Countess of Flanders. Disputes before these courts usually took the form of the tenson, or contention, already described.

Many are the legendary accounts of the laws upon which these courts based their decisions. There are fables of knights riding in magic forests and finding scrolls attached by golden chains to the necks of fiery dragons, or the feet of fleet birds. These laws, if not applicable in our present civilization, show in the most interesting fashion how the subject of love was regarded in the twelfth century. Among them are found the following startling statements:

"Marriage cannot be pleaded as an excuse for refusing to love."

"A person who cannot keep a secret can never be a lover."

"No one can really love two people at the same time," says one rule; but another adds, "Nothing prevents one lady being loved by two gentlemen, or one gentleman by two ladies."

Two years was the required period of mourning for a dead lover. But such constancy may not have been demanded in the case of the living, for, according to rule, "A new love-affair banishes the old one completely."

Lovers in those days were expected to show the most definite symptoms of their malady; for, according to law, "Every lover is accustomed to grow pale at the sight of his lady-love;" "At the sudden and unexpected prospect of his lady-love, the heart of the true lover invariably palpitates;" and "A real lover is always the prey of anxiety and malaise." Also, "A person who is the prey of love eats little and sleeps little."

There are many maxims on the best way of keeping true love alive, and many more on the subject of jealousy. That the love of the Troubadours was none too permanent is indicated by the statement, "A moderate presumption is sufficient to justify one lover in entertaining grave suspicions of the other."

Among the celebrated decisions is one given by the Countess of Champagne upon the question, "Can real love exist between married people?" Basing her decision on the fact that love implies a free granting of all favours, while marriage enforces constraint, the fair arbiter decided for the negative. Another decree, of wider application, was pronounced by Queen Eleanor. A lover, after entreating his lady's favour in vain, sent her a number of costly presents, which she accepted with much delight. Yet even after this tribute to her charms, she remained obdurate, and would not grant him the slightest encouragement. He accordingly brought the case before the Court of Love, on the ground that the lady, by accepting his presents, had inspired him with false hopes. Eleanor gave the decision wholly in his favour, saying that the lady must refuse to receive any gifts sent as love-tokens, or must make compensation for them. The story does not tell whether the lady in question accepted the suitor or returned the gifts.