“Shall I tell how I should win her?”
“It would be a quaint tale.”
“In the beginning, I should half-kill any man who braved it out that she was not the comeliest woman in Britain.”
“Somewhat harsh, my lord, but emphatic.”
“I should make her the envy of every lady, dame, and damoselle in the land.”
“Not wise.”
“Like a golden Helen should she rise in the east; blood should flow about her feet like water; I would tear down kingdoms to pile her up a throne. Such should be my wooing.”
Igraine looked at her lap, and said never a word for a minute or more. All these heroics were rather hollow to her ear, though she did not doubt the man’s sincerity towards himself, and his earnest mind to please her. Then she asked Gorlois a very simple question.
“Imagine, my lord, that the woman loved some other man?”
Gorlois’s answer came swift off his tongue.