y upon the testimony
of one contemporary witness, of very uncertain date (Andrew the
Chaplain, "who lived probably about the end of the twelfth century"),
and two very obscure allusions to courts and trials in the poems of the
troubadours. The chief sources for our knowledge of the Courts of Love
are writers long subsequent to the events, notably Jean de Nostredame,
who, in 1575, published a book entitled _Les Vies des plus celebres et
anciens poetes provensaux_. But the tradition is so well established,
and above all so intimately associated with Queen Eleanor, that we shall
give a little sketch of the courts and their doings.

The _tensons_ of the troubadours were poetic disputes on points of love
and on lovers' conduct. If, says Jean de Nostredame, the disputants
"could not come to an agreement they referred the matter for decision to
the illustrious lady presidents who held open and plenary court at the
Castle of Signe, and other places, and these gave judgments which were
called the judgments of Love." If a lady treated her troubadour lover
unfairly, or if a lover were guilty of any dereliction or crime in love,
or if, for the guidance of future generations of lovers, a decision on a
mere point of gallantry were sought, all such cases came before the
Courts of Love, which had a regular code of laws, thirty-one in number,
upon which decisions were based. The court, composed of a jury of the
most beautiful, accomplished, and celebrated ladies of the neighborhood,
and presided over by some lady of special distinction, heard the pleas
on both sides, and gave judgment, which depended upon a unanimous vote
of the jury. There were several of these courts, the most famous being
those of Queen Eleanor of England, of her daughter, Marie de Champagne,
of the Viscountess of Narbonne, and of the Countess of Flanders. The
code under which these fantastic tribunals are said to have given their
judgment is a very curious document. The statutes of love are hardly so
rigorous as might be expected; some of them are merely proverbial bits
of wisdom, with here and there a hint very far from romantic:

IV. Love never stands still; it always increases--or diminishes.

X. Love is always an exile where avarice holds his dwelling.

Some seem so distinctly suggestive of a smirk beneath all this affected
seriousness that one can hardly take them seriously.

XV. Every lover is accustomed to grow pale at the sight of his
lady-love.

XVI.