By the time she had finished brewing this drink of death the ship had almost reached its anchorage; and Kurneval entered to announce that they would speedily land, and that Sir Tristan awaited to escort her to the King.
Isolde drew herself up proudly.
"Go back to Sir Tristan," she said, "and say that we await him here. We will not leave this place until he appears to offer an apology for his rudeness!"
Kurneval was moved to make some retort to this, but deeming that diplomacy was the wisest plan he returned to Tristan and advised him to wait upon the irate Princess.
Isolde, meanwhile, handed the poison flask to her maid, saying, "When he comes, give us to drink from it. We have much to forget, and I would be at peace with the world this day."
"Oh, my lady! What is it you would have me do?" asked Brangeane, terrified by her mistress's manner. But Isolde pressed her hand reassuringly.
At that moment Tristan entered, and with tones of the deepest respect he asked what the Princess's will was with him. But Isolde was in no mood to temporise, and she reproached him haughtily for his treatment of her during the voyage, asking what he meant by such neglect to her station.
It was such language as one would address to an underling, and Sir Tristan drew himself up with quiet dignity, replying that it was the custom in his country, when an ambassador brought a bride home to his lord, to refrain from intruding his presence during the journey.
Isolde replied scornfully, that if he was such a strict observer of custom, he would do well to recall one other which he had overlooked.
"What is that?" asked Tristan.