"We were reading one day, for delight, of Lancelot, how love constrained him. We were alone and without any suspicion."
Many times that reading made us lift our eyes, and took the color from our faces,
but only one point was that which overcame us . . . .
That day we read in it no farther."
"Love, that on gentle heart quickly lays hold, seized him for the fair person that was taken from me, and the mode still hurts me. Love, which absolves no loved one from loving, seized me for the pleasing of him so strongly that, as thou seest, it does not even now abandon me. Love brought us to one death.
Caina awaits him who quenched our life."