But the pair seemed wrapped in a sweet dream from which the joyous cries of greeting gradually awakened them; and then, when they realised what had happened, they were filled with despair, and Isolda sank back half-fainting into Tristan's outstretched arms.
But Brangæna, eager to prevent the immediate discovery of their hapless love, quickly roused her mistress, and hung upon her shoulders the gorgeous royal mantle that had been provided for her nuptials; and then Tristan, as in a trance, with woe in his heart, led his beloved one forth from the ship, and delivered her into the hands of his Sovereign.
Isolda and King Mark were immediately wedded, amidst great rejoicings; but although the unhappy victims of the fatal love-potion had strength to loyally fulfil this pledge of peace between the two countries, they could not long keep their devouring passion within bounds. With the help of the devoted and remorseful Brangæna, they frequently met in secret, and the rapture of these stolen interviews was as balm to their bleeding hearts, the one sweet chain that kept them still bound to life.
But Tristan had an enemy, a knight named Melot, who, under the disguise of friendship, had gained his confidence and learnt the secret of his hopeless passion, and who, having no real love for the man he called his friend, determined to use this woeful secret for his own base ends. For Melot was jealous of the renown and noble qualities of Tristan, and longed to supplant him in the regard of his royal master; and having now discovered a weapon to his hand in the secret confided to him by the unsuspecting knight, he eagerly sought an opportunity for betraying him, and quickly found one.
Having persuaded the King to arrange a royal hunt one beautiful summer night, the crafty Melot easily induced Tristan to remain behind, and so secure a long, sweet interview with his beloved Isolda; but the false friend gaily joined in the chase, intending to return in a short time with the King to entrap the lovers.
When the hunting party had departed into the depths of the forest, and the merry sounds of the horns could only be heard in the far distance, Isolda crept forth from the silent castle, followed by her faithful handmaid; and bidding Brangæna keep watch near the forest, she flung a lighted torch to the ground, this being the signal for Tristan's approach. She then ran down the steps towards a moonlit avenue, and in another moment the lovers were clasped in each other's arms.
It was a moment of intense joy; and as the enraptured pair reclined together upon a mossy bank studded with sleeping flowers, they poured out to each other, in tenderest phrases, the passionate love they were compelled to keep pent within their hearts before the eyes of the world. It was midnight; but the happy lovers cared naught for time, and would gladly have remained in such sweet converse for ever.
But suddenly there was a cry from Brangæna, who rushed wildly forward, declaring that they were betrayed; and next moment, King Mark and a few of his lords broke hastily into the avenue, having been led to the spot by Melot, who had found an opportunity during the hunt to inform his royal master of the lovers' intended meeting.
At first King Mark had refused to believe that his noblest and best-beloved knight could thus betray his honour; but as he stepped into the avenue, and the living proof of it met his gaze, he was filled with deepest grief, and began to pour forth bitter reproaches upon the wretched Tristan, who vainly endeavoured to hide Isolda's shrinking form from the scornful gaze of the courtiers.
Stung by the just reproaches of the King, and enraged at the cruel treachery of his false friend, Tristan drew his sword and challenged Melot to fight; and in his despair, caring little to defend himself, he allowed his adversary to overcome him, and soon fell to the ground mortally wounded.