"Yes, mine host – or more exactly, what is in it."
"Bien, that green concoction is no less than the limpé served by Mélianne at the court of Manvre, on the high holy day that celebrates the first adultery! Ah! How often we pass by happiness without recognizing it! Be you a man who hungers after riches, this herb opens up for you the treasures of Ckasade-doûm; be you a poet, and the limits of the possible vanish. The fields of the infinite are at your feet, you are the King of Creation, the Lord of the Rings, bearer of the Star of the North, possessor of the Staves of the Five Wizards, more fortunate in love than Béren, a hero, a Néron, the sorcerer of Oz!"
"But this ineffable limpé has doubtless received a name in some human tongue?" inquired Arafrantz.
"You have heard, no doubt, of the Pearl of the Orient, and her mysterious herbs that caused all to love her and despair?"
"Oh, of course, it's hashberry, or to those who know somewhat of the Valinorean..."
