2d Knight.
Lay hold
Of him! He is a conjurer.
[A few men start to seize the jester—he
jumps upon the bench.]
Iseult (trembling with fright).
Excuse—
My weakness—'tis—'tis but—let be—this fool's
Strange jesting is most ghastly—it revolts my soul
And—made me faint—.
Dinas.
Thou knave! I'll have thee whipped!
Tell me thy name—Who art thou? Speak!
Str. Jester.
Come not
Too near!
Dinas.
I have a dungeon deep and strong,
And I can have thee thrown to Husdent. He
Will tear thee limb from limb, thou conjurer!
Who art thou?
Ugrin (in a friendly tone).
Answer, friend, our Cousin Mark
Speaks not in jest!
Dinas.
Call in the guards!
[A Knight tries to lay hold of the Strange
Jester.]
Str. Jester.
Let go!
I'm but a wretched fool!—I have no name!
What matters it to you? I've smirched my good
And noble name—so now I have no name.
I had one once that rang full true and high!
I've twisted it about, and broken it!