Well, let him throw his raw scorn in Merlin’s face, and suffer for his stiffneckedness. What was it to her? How did it concern her? Men knew that Isoult of the Rose was not to be handled or clutched at with greedy fingers, and that her anger was not a thing to be tempted. And was she to make herself look an outwitted and shameful fool, a soft-hearted ninny tricked by a man’s tongue!
She walked to and fro under the trees, and the tangle made her furious.
“By our Lady, let the fool pay for his pride. Why should I meddle?”
The wind of her passion changed just as quickly, and blew her mood to the other side of the fire. She began to curse like a man, and to snap discords from the strings of her lute.
“By the blood in hell, I’ll do it; I’ll do it!”
She turned and went back towards the edge of the wood like a leaf caught up and blown along by a gust of wind.
Fulk was watching the fires in the valley with the little black figures going to and fro about them. He heard Isoult coming back through the fir wood, and the sound of her footsteps made him harden his heart. He was wrath with himself because he saw everywhere the red mouth, the pale face, and the mysterious eyes.
Isoult sailed down on him over the lip of the dell like a bird with the wind.
“What had Merlin to say?”
“Leave Merlin with the devil!”