There was yet wine upon the table. I filled a cup and brought it to her. “Drink!” I commanded.

“I have much of forbearance, much of courtesy, to thank you for,” she said. “I will remember it when — Do not think that I shall blame you” —

I held the cup to her lips. “Drink!” I repeated. She touched the red wine with her lips. I took it from her and put it to my own. “We drink of the same cup,” I said, with my eyes upon hers, and drained it to the bottom. “I am weary of swords and courts and kings. Let us go into the garden and watch the minister’s bees.”