At any time of her life, Heloise would have defied society or church, and would--at least in the public's fancy--have taken Abelard by the hand and gone off to the forest much more readily than she went to the cloister; but Abelard would have made a poor figure as Tristan. Abelard and Christian of Troyes were as remote as we are from the legendary Tristan; but Isolde and Heloise, Eleanor and Mary were the immortal and eternal woman. The legend of Isolde, both in the earlier and the later version, seems to have served as a sacred book to the women of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and Christian's Isolde surely helped Mary in giving law to the Court of Troyes and decisions in the Court of Love. Countess Mary's authority lasted from 1164 to 1198, thirty-four years, during which, at uncertain intervals, glimpses of her influence flash out in poetry rather than in prose. Christian began his "Roman de la Charette" by invoking her:-- Puisque ma dame de Chanpaigne Vialt que romans a faire anpraigne Si deist et jel tesmoignasse Que ce est la dame qui passe Totes celes qui sont vivanz Si con li funs passe les vanz Qui vante en Mai ou en Avril Dirai je: tant com une jame Vaut de pailes et de sardines Vaut la contesse de reines? Christian chose curious similes. His dame surpassed all living rivals as smoke passes the winds that blow in May; or as much as a gem would buy of straws and sardines is the Countess worth in queens. Louis XIV would have thought that Christian might be laughing at him, but court styles changed with their masters. Louis XIV would scarcely have written a prison-song to his sister such as Richard Coeur-de-Lion wrote to Mary of Champagne:-- Ja nus bons pris ne dirat sa raison Adroitement s'ansi com dolans non; Mais par confort puet il faire chanson. Moult ai d'amins, mais povre sont li don; Honte en avront se por ma reancon Suix ces deus yvers pris. Ceu sevent bien mi home et mi baron, Englois, Normant, Poitevin et Gascon, Ke je n'avoie si povre compaingnon Cui je laissasse por avoir au prixon. Je nel di pas por nulle retraison, Mais ancor suix je pris. Or sai ge bien de voir certainement Ke mors ne pris n'ait amin ne parent, Cant on me lait por or ne por argent. Moult m'est de moi, mais plus m'est de ma gent C'apres ma mort avront reprochier grant Se longement suix pris. N'est pas mervelle se j'ai lo cuer dolent Cant li miens sires tient ma terre en torment. S'or li menbroit de nostre sairement Ke nos feismes andui communament, Bien sai de voir ke ceans longement Ne seroie pas pris. Ce sevent bien Angevin et Torain, Cil bacheler ki or sont fort et sain, C'ancombreis suix long d'aus en autrui main. Forment m'amoient, mais or ne m'aimment grain. De belles armes sont ores veut cil plain, Por tant ke je suix pris. Mes compaingnons cui j'amoie et cui j'aim, Ces dou Caheu et ces dou Percherain, Me di, chanson, kil ne sont pas certain,