"
But, Tristram and La Beale Isoud found that love-drink! Breathing
quickly, Missy read the fateful part:
"It happened so that they were thirsty, and it seemed by the colour
and the taste that it was a noble wine. When Sir Tristram took the
flasket in his hand, and said, 'Madam Isoud, here is the best drink
that ever ye drunk, that Dame Braguaine, your maiden, and
Gouvernail, my servant, have kept for themselves.' Then they laughed
(laughed--think of it!) and made good cheer, and either drank to
other freely. And they thought never drink that ever they drank was
so sweet nor so good. But by that drink was in their bodies, they
loved either other so well that never their love departed for weal
neither for woe." (Think of that, too!)
Missy gazed at the accompanying illustration: La Beale Isoud
slenderly tall in her straight girdled gown of grey-green velvet,
head thrown back so that her filleted golden hair brushed her
shoulders, violet eyes half-closed, and an "antique"-looking metal
goblet clasped in her two slim hands; and Sir Tristram so
imperiously dark and handsome in his crimson, fur-trimmed doublet,
his two hands stretched out and gripping her two shoulders, his
black eyes burning as if to look through her closed lids.
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