Iseult.
Yea, boy, the wood
Is black and gloomy here. Give me some oil,
Brangaene, for my lips are parched and dried
From weeping all this never-ending night.
Paranis (goes to the casement).
Above Tintagel, lo, the sky was blue;
The sun shone on a foreign ship that came
Across the seas and lay at anchor there
And made it look like gold. The ship came in
As we rode through the gate. I wish that I
Were at Tintagel once again and saw
That ship. For here black clouds obscure the sun
And hang close to the ground; they fly along
Like mighty ghosts. The earth smells damp and makes
Me shiver—Ugh—!
Iseult (steps to the casement beside him and puts her arm about his neck).
Nay, not today, for see,
The sun will shine and pour its golden rays
E'en o'er the Morois.
[She leans out until her head is overflowed
by the sunlight.]
Oh, it's very hot!
Paranis (falling on his knees).
Oh Queen Iseult pray take the fairy dog
Into thy hands and it will comfort thee—
That wondrous brachet, Tristram's latest gift.
For, lo, since from Tintagel we have come
My heart is troubled by a wish to ask
Of thee a question, for Brangaene says
That when thou think'st of certain things thou weep'st
But I have never felt the like.
Iseult.
Poor boy!
I lay awake the whole night through and yet
Not once did I take Petikru to me,
So ask, my child! What wouldst thou know!
Mine eyes
Are dry, for all my tears are spent, and gone.
[She has returned to the dressing table.]
Paranis.
Is this the wood where thou and Tristram dwelt,
As people say, when ye had fled away?
Iseult.
'Tis true this wood once sheltered us.
Paranis (at the casement). This wood?
This fearful wood? 'Twas here that thou, Iseult
Of Ireland, Iseult the Goldenhaired,
Took refuge with Lord Tristram like a beast
Hard pressed by dogs and men? There hang, perhaps.
Among the branches still some tattered shreds
From robes thou wor'st; and blood still tints the roots
Thou trod'st upon with bare and wounded feet!
'Twas here thou say'st? Within this wood?