When the man had gone he turned to Isoult, frowning:
“A man who cannot rule his body is no better than a beast. Eat.”
She took bread, and spread the honey with her girdle knife, nothing but the point of her chin showing under the shadow of her hood.
“Lording,” she said, “you are very masterful. Do you rule your men as you rule your dogs?”
“It serves. A cur is a villein; a hound a gentleman.”
She took the jug and drank.
“So! We are all dogs, if not of the same litter. And some of us are hated. What do the people sing now:
“When Adam delved and Eve span,
Where was then the gentleman?”
He looked down at her, as from a height.