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A woman rode beside him, so they said, A fair-faced wanton, mounted like a man-- Isolda!--my Isolda!--Better dead, Yea, dead and damned! than thus--the courtezan Bold, unreluctant, to such men! A dread, That such should be, unmanned me. Doubt began To whisper at my heart.--But I was mad, To insult her with such thoughts, whose love I had.