"A sweet and fragrant thought, my son!" quoth he.
"As sweet, methinks, holy father, as pure and fragrant as she herself!"
"'She,' my son?"
"As Helen, good friar, as Helen the Beautiful, Duchess of Mortain!"
"Ah!" sighed the friar, and forthwith popped the leek into the pot. "I prithee, noble son, reach me the salt-box yonder!"