Oh, what a rage she flew into! It was a sight to see her, she looked so lovely.
'How darest thou come to me with such a tale ?' she cried.

'It is a lie to say that my Lord was making love to Sorais, my sister.' 'Pardon me, oh Queen,' I answered, 'I said that Sorais was making love to thy lord.' 'Spin me no spiders' webs of words.

Is not the thing the same thing?
The one giveth, the other taketh; but the gift passes, and what matters it which is the most guilty?
Sorais! oh, I hate her -- Sorais is a queen and my sister.

She had not stooped so low had he not shown the way.

Oh, truly hath the poet said that man is like a snake, whom to touch is poison, and whom none can hold.' 'The remark, oh Queen, is excellent, but methinks thou hast misread the poet.