Giles, whom I had never seen before, advanced to the table, took the flagon, and went toward the door, which he had shut behind him. I negligently turned in my seat, and so came in for a glimpse, as he slipped through the door, of a figure in black in the next room. The wine was brought, and with it two goblets. My lord broke off in the midst of an account of the morning's bear-baiting which the tediousness of the Indians had caused us to miss. “Who knows if we three shall ever drink together again?” he said. “To honor this bout I use my most precious cups.” Voice and manner were free and unconstrained. “This gold cup “--he held it up--“belonged to the Medici. Master Pory, who is a man of taste, will note the beauty of the graven maenads upon this side, and of the Bacchus and Ariadne upon this. It is the work of none other than Benvenuto Cellini. I pour for you, sir.” He filled the gold cup with the ruby wine and set it before the Secretary, who eyed it with all the passion of a lover, and waited not for us, but raised it to his lips at once. My lord took up the other cup. “This glass,” he continued, “as green as an emerald, freckled inside and out with gold, and shaped like a lily, was once amongst a convent's treasures. My father brought it from Italy, years ago. I use it as he used it, only on gala days. I fill to you, sir.” He poured the wine into the green and gold and twisted bauble and set it before me, then filled a silver goblet for himself. “Drink, gentlemen,” he said. “Faith, I have drunken already,” quoth the Secretary, and proceeded to fill for himself a second time. “Here's to you, gentlemen!” and he emptied half the measure. “Captain Percy does not drink,” remarked my lord. I leaned my elbow upon the table, and, holding up the glass against the light, began to admire its beauty. “The tint is wonderful,” I said, “as lucent a green as the top of the comber that is to break and overwhelm you. And these knobs of gold, within and without, and the strange shape the tortured glass has been made to take. I find it of a quite sinister beauty, my lord.” “It hath been much admired,” said the nobleman addressed. “I am strangely suited, my lord,” I went on, still dreamily enjoying the beauty of the green gem within my clasp. “I am a soldier with an imagination. Sometimes, to give the rein to my fancy pleases me more than wine. Now, this strange chalice,--might it not breed dreams as strange?” “When I had drunken, I think,” replied my lord. “The wine would be a potent spur to my fancy.” “What saith honest Jack Falstaff?” broke in the maudlin Secretary. “Doth he not bear testimony that good sherris maketh the brain apprehensive and quick; filleth it with nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes, which being delivered by the tongue become excellent wit? Wherefore let us drink, gentlemen, and beget fancies.” He filled for himself again, and buried his nose in the cup.