Oh God, here in this hand, grown pale
And hot from resting on my heart all night,
I hold the ring of gold and emerald stone
By which I sware to Tristram to obey
His will, and come to him when one should call
Upon me by this ring and in his name!
Lo, thou hast called upon me; I obey!
What wishest thou of me, thou evil ghost
With hollow sunken eyes? What wouldst thou have.
Thou spectre of the twilight gloom?
Str. Jester.
I call
On thee, Iseult, my love, in my distress!
Oh know me now, who was thy lover once!
Iseult.
Thou suck'st my blood!
Str. Jester.
Thy blood was mine! Thy blood
Was once mine own! It was a crimson trust
reposing in my knightly hands to keep
Irrevocably until Death. And where
Thou goest there go I; and where thou stayst
There stay I too. So spoke thy blood—I come
To claim but what is mine.
Iseult (in great passion).
What have I done
To thee that thou recountest my past life
As 'twere a mocking song? Who art thou, fool?
Who art thou? Speak? I'm knocking at thy soul
As knocks a dead man's soul outside the gates
Of Paradise! Who art thou, fool? Art thou
Magician? Art thou ghost? Art thou some soul
Forever wandering for some evil deed?
Art thou some faithless lover barred from Heav'n
And Hell eternally, whose punishment
It is to wander restless through the world
Forever begging love from women's hearts?
Did God permit that thou shouldst know what none,
Save only Tristram and myself have known?
That thou shouldst taste of bitter torment still
By thinking thou art Tristram and shouldst thus
Make greater expiation for thy sins?
Str. Jester.
I am a faithless lover who has loved
Most faithfully, Iseult, belovèd one!
Iseult.
Why criest thou my name unceasingly,
As scream enhungered owls, thou pallid fool?
Why starest thou at me with eyes that tears
And pain have rendered pitiless? I know
Naught of thy grief and am no leech to cure
Thy fool's disease!
Str. Jester.
Iseult!
Iseult (in growing agitation).
Shall I shave off
My hair as thou hast done? Shall I too wear
A jester's parti-colored garb? Shall I
Go through the land, and howling in the streets
Bawl out Lord Tristram's name to make the throng
Of greasy knaves laugh? Speak? Is this the cure
Thou needest for thy grief? Does Tristram mock
Me through thy ribald wit? Does he revenge
Himself upon me thus because I loved
Him long before he saw Iseult, the Fair
Whitehanded Queen, and gave my soul and blood
To him? In scornful and in bitter words
Has he revealed our secret love to thee?
Has he betrayed me to his wife? Art thou
In league with her? Has her black spirit sent
Thee here to torture me by raising up
The phantom images of that past life
Which once I knew, but which is dead?
Confess!
And! I will load thee down with precious gifts,
And daily pray for thee! I'll line thy way
With servants and I'll honor thee as though
Thou wert of royal blood where e'er thou art!
[She falls on her knees.]