"Though she small worth in Tristram's sight possess, Nor any, saving Yseult, please his sight, Nor other dame to love or to caress, The philtre, drunk erewhile, allows the knight;
Yet, for he would that foul discourteousness Of Clodion with a fit revenge requite, He cries, `I deem it were foul wrong and sore, If so such beauty I should shut the door.
