"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.