Yet I had spoken no word, for my part, about her beauty, having heard say that he who would be well with one woman does ill to praise another in her presence.
"Beautiful, indeed, she is," said Charlotte.

"Never have I seen such eyes, and hair like gold, and a look so gracious! And for thy pilgrimage to the shrine of this fair saint, where does she dwell ?" I told her at Chinon, or at Tours, or commonly wheresoever the Court might be, for that her father was the King's painter.
"And you love her very dearly ?" "More than my life," I said.

"And may the saints send you, demoiselle, as faithful a lover, to as fair a lady." "Nay," she said, reddening.

"This is high treason, and well you wot that you hold no lady half so fair as your own.

Are you Scots so smooth-spoken?
You have not that repute.