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Updated: June 23, 2025
Before them, stretched along the beach, lay the white town of Limazol, with palm trees standing up amidst its gardens, while beyond the fertile plain rose the mighty mountain range of Trooidos. Sick and weary of the endless ocean, Rosamund gazed with rapture at this green and beauteous shore, the home of so much history, and sighed to think that on it she might set no foot.
The liquid amber from Trooidos! I had forgotten it. Noble knight, have I your leave to draw?" "Ay, excellent merchant," answered Sir Andrew. "Certainly you can draw your own wine." So Georgios rose, and took a large jug and a silver tankard from the sideboard where such things were displayed.
"Clean cups, for here come a holy man and a gallant knight who wish to taste my liquor. Nay, fellow, fill them up, for the top of Mount Trooidos in winter is not so cold as this cursed place, to say nothing of its damp, which is that of a dungeon," and he shivered, drawing his costly shawl closer round him. "Sir Abbot, which will you taste first the red wine or the yellow?
"Yet I will ask you, sir," he added to Sir Andrew, "to lighten the load a little by accepting this small keg of the old sweet vintage that grows on the slopes of Trooidos." "I remember it well," said Sir Andrew, with a smile; "but, friend, I do not wish to take your wine for nothing." At these words the face of Georgios beamed. "What, noble sir," he exclaimed, "do you know my land of Cyprus?
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