"Pertinax, prithee puff not! Yet, an puff ye will, pronounce me then the
why and wherefore of thy puffing."
"Lord, here is neither gasp nor puff, here is honest sighing. I can sigh as
well as another."
"Since when hast learned this so tender art, my Pertinax?"
"And I do sigh by reason of memory."
"As what, Pertinax?"
"Eyes, lord--her eyes so darkly bright and, as I do think--black!"
"Nay, blue, Pertinax--blue as heaven!"
"Black, messire, black as--as black!"
"Blue, boy, blue!"
"Lord, they are black!"
"Speak'st thou of Yolande?"
"Messire, of one I speak, but whom, I know not. She came to me i' the
greenwood as I sat a-fishing. Her hair long and black--ay, black and
curled, her eyes dark, and for beauty ne'er saw I her like."
"And yet hast seen my Lady Yolande oft!"
"Her voice, messire, her voice soft and sweet as the murmur of waters, and
very full of allure."
"Why, how now!" cried Jocelyn. "Art thou--thou, my Pertinax, become
at last one of Cupid's humble following? All joy to thee, my lovely
lover--here in truth is added bond betwixt us! For since thou dost love a
maid, even as I do love a maid, so being lovers twain needs must we love
each other the better therefore.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125