DUeHRING (slowly packing up his manuscript). I am afraid, Mr. Gerardo, you are somewhat misjudging me. After all, I am not quite so unknown to the rest of the world as I am to you. My person and name are known. Wagner himself mentions me often enough in his writings. And let me tell you, if I die today, my works will be performed tomorrow. I am as sure of that as I know that my music will retain its value. My Berlin publisher writes me every day: All that's needed is for you to die. Why then in the world don't you?

GERARDO. All I can reply to you is this: that since Wagner's death there hasn't been a call for new operas anywhere. If you offer new music, you have all conservatories, all singers and the whole public against you from the start. If you want to see your works performed, write a music which does not differ the least from what is in vogue today; just copy; steal your opera in bits and scraps from the whole of Wagner's operas. Then you may count with considerable probability on having it accepted. My tremendous hit last night should prove to you that the old music is all that's needed for years to come. And my opinion is that of every other singer, of every manager and of the whole paying public. Why should I go out of my way to have a new music whipped into me when the old music has already cost me such inhuman whippings?

DUeHRING (offers him his trembling hand). I am sorry but I fear I'm too old to learn to steal. That's the kind of thing one has to begin young or one will never learn.

GERARDO. I hope I haven't offended you, Sir.—But, my dear Sir,—if you would permit me—the thought that life means a hard struggle to you—(speaking very rapidly) it so happens that I have received five hundred marks more than I ...

DUeHRING (looks at GERARDO with his eyes wide open, then suddenly starts for the door). Please, please, I beg of you, no! Don't finish what you meant to say. No, no, no! That is not what I came for. You know what a great sage has said:—They are all of them good-natured, but ...!—No, Mr. Gerardo, I did not ask you to listen to my opera in order to practise extortion on you. I love my child too much for that. No indeed, Mr. Gerardo ...

[Exit through the centre door.]

GERARDO (escorting him to the door). Oh please. Sir.—Happy to have known you, Sir.



SCENE VIII

GERARDO (alone, comes forward, sinks into an armchair, with basket of champagne in front of him, looks at the bottles). For whom am I raking together so much money?—For my children I Yes, if I had any children!—For my old age?—Two more years will make a wreck of me!—Then it will be:

"Alas, alas, The hobby is forgotten!"



SCENE IX

GERARDO, HELEN MAROWA, later the valet.

HELEN (of striking beauty, twenty-seven years, street dress, muff; greatly excited). I am just likely, am I not, to let that creature block my way! I suppose you placed him down there to prevent me from reaching you!

GERARDO (has started from his chair). Helen!

HELEN. Why, you knew that I was coming, didn't you?

VALET (in the open door which has been left so by HELEN; holds hand to his cheek). I did my very best, Sir, but the lady ... she ... she ...

HELEN. Boxed your ears!

GERARDO. Helen!

HELEN. Would you expect me to put up with such an insult?

GERARDO (to the valet). You may go. [Exit VALET.]

HELEN (lays her muff on a chair). I can no longer live without you. Either you will take me along or I shall kill myself.

GERARDO. Helen!

HELEN. I shall kill myself! You cut asunder my vital nerve if you insist on our separation. You leave me without either heart or brain. To live through another day like yesterday, a whole day without seeing you,—I simply cannot do it. I am not strong enough for it. I implore you, Oscar, take me along! I am pleading for my life!

GERARDO. It is impossible.

HELEN. Nothing is impossible if you are but willing! How can you say it is impossible? It is impossible for you to leave me without killing me. These are no empty words, I do not mean it as a threat; it is the simple truth! I am as certain of it as I can feel my own heart in here: not to have you means death to me. Therefore take me along. If not for my sake, do it for human mercy's sake! Let it be for only a short time, I don't care.

GERARDO. I give you my word of honor, Helen, I cannot do it.—I give you my word of honor.

HELEN. You must do it, Oscar! Whether you can or not, you must bear the consequences of your own acts. My life is dear to me, but you and my life are one. Take me with you, Oscar, unless you want to shed my blood!

GERARDO. Do you remember what I told you the very first day within these four walls?

HELEN. I do. But of what good is that to me now?

GERARDO. That there could be no thought of any real sentiment in our relations?

HELEN. Of what good is that to me now? Did I know you then? Why, I did not know what a man could be like until I knew you! You foresaw it would come to this or you would not have begun by exacting from me that promise not to make a scene at your departure. Besides do you think there is anything I should not have promised you if you had asked me to? That promise means my death. You will have cheated me out of my life if you go and leave me!

GERARDO. I cannot take you with me!

HELEN. Good Heavens, didn't I know that you would say that! Didn't I know before coming here! It's such a matter of course! You tell every one of them so. And why am I better than they! I am one of a hundred. There are a million women as good as I. I needn't be told, I know.—But I am ill, Oscar! I am sick unto death! I am love-sick! I am nearer to death than to life! That is your work, and you can save me without sacrificing anything, without assuming a burden. Tell me, why can you not?

GERARDO (emphasizing every word). Because my contract does not allow me either to marry or to travel in the company of ladies.

HELEN (perplexed). What is to prevent you?

GERARDO. My contract.

HELEN. You are not allowed to ...?

GERARDO. I am not allowed to marry until my contract has expired.

HELEN. And you are not allowed to ...?

GERARDO. I am not allowed to travel in the company of ladies.

HELEN. That's incomprehensible to me. Whom in the world does it concern?

GERARDO. It concerns my manager.

HELEN. Your manager?—What business is it of his?

GERARDO. It is his business.

HELEN. Perhaps because it might affect your voice?

GERARDO. Yes.

HELEN. Why, that's childish!—Does it affect your voice?

GERARDO. It does not.

HELEN. Does your manager believe such nonsense?

GERARDO. No, he does not believe it.

HELEN. That's incomprehensible to me. I don't understand how a—respectable man can sign such a contract!

GERARDO. My rights as a man are only a secondary consideration. I am an artist in the first place.

HELEN. Yes, you are. A great artist! An eminent artist! Don't you comprehend how I must love you? Is that the only thing your great mind cannot comprehend? All that makes me appear contemptible now in my relation to you is due to just this, that I see in you the only man who has ever made me feel his superiority to me and whom it has been my sole thought to win. I have clenched my teeth to keep from betraying to you what you are to me for fear you might weary of me. But my experience of yesterday has left me in a state of mind which no woman can endure. If I did not love you so madly, Oscar, you would think more of me. That is so terrible in you that you must despise the woman whose whole world you are. Of what I formerly was to myself there is not a trace left. And now that your passion has left me a burned-out shell, would you leave me here? You are taking my life with you, Oscar! Then take with you as well this flesh and blood which has been yours, or it will perish!

GERARDO. Helen ...!

HELEN. Contracts! What are contracts to you! Why, there's not a contract made that one cannot get around in some way! What do people make contracts for? Don't use your contract as a weapon with which to murder me. I am not afraid of your contracts! Let me go with you, Oscar! We'll see if he as much as mentions a breach of contract. He won't do it or I am a poor judge of human nature. And if he does object, it will still be time for me to die.

GERARDO. But we have no right to possess each other, Helen! You are as little free to follow me as I am to assume such a responsibility. I do not belong to myself; I belong to my art ...

HELEN. Oh don't talk to me of your art! What do I care for your art. I've clung to your art merely to attract your attention. Did Heaven create a man like you to let you make a clown of yourself night after night? Are you not ashamed of boasting of it? You see that I am willing to overlook your being an artist. What wouldn't one overlook in a demigod like you? And if you were a convict, Oscar, I could not feel differently toward you. I have lost all control over myself! I should still lie in the dust before you as I am doing now! I should still implore your mercy as I am doing now! My own self would still be abandoned to you as it is now! I should still be facing death as I am now!

GERARDO (laughing). Why, Helen, you and facing death! Women so richly endowed for the enjoyment of life as you are do not kill themselves. You know the value of life better than I. You are too happily constituted to cast it away. That is left for others to do—for stunted and dwarfed creatures, the stepchildren of nature.

HELEN. Oscar, I did not say that I was going to shoot myself. When did I say that? How could I summon the courage? I say that I shall die if you do not take me with you just as one might die of any ailment because I can live only if I am with you! I can live without anything else—without home, without children, but not without you, Oscar! I can not live without you!

GERARDO (uneasy). Helen—if you do not calm yourself now, you will force me to do something terrible! I have just ten minutes left. The scene you are making here won't be accepted as a legal excuse for my breaking my contract! No court would regard your excited state of mind as a sufficient justification. I have ten more minutes to give you. If by that time you have not calmed yourself, Helen—then I cannot leave you to yourself!

HELEN. Oh let the whole world see me lie here!

GERARDO. Consider what you will risk!

HELEN. As if I had anything left to risk!

GERARDO. You might lose your social position.

HELEN. All I can lose is you!

GERARDO. What about those to whom you belong?

HELEN. I can now belong to no one but you!

GERARDO. But I do not belong to you!

HELEN. I've nothing left to lose but life itself.

GERARDO. How about your children?

HELEN (flaring up). Who took me away from them, Oscar! Who robbed my children of their mother!

GERARDO. Did I make advances to you?

HELEN (with intense passion). No, no! Don't think that for a moment! I just threw myself at you and should throw myself at you again today! No husband, no children could restrain me! If I die, I have at least tasted life! Through you, Oscar! I owe it to you that I have come to know myself! I have to thank you for it, Oscar!

GERARDO. Helen—now listen to me calmly ...

HELEN. Yes, yes—there are ten minutes left ...

GERARDO. Listen to me calmly ... (Both sit down on the sofa.)

HELEN (staring at him). I have to thank you for it ...

GERARDO. Helen—

HELEN. I don't ask you to love me. If I may but breathe the same air with you ...!

GERARDO (struggling to preserve his composure). Helen—to a man like me the conventional rules of life cannot be applied. I have known society women in all the lands of Europe. They have made me scenes, too, when it was time for me to leave—but when it came to choosing, I always knew what I owed to my position. Never yet have I met with such an outburst of passion as yours. Helen—I am tempted every day to withdraw to some idyllic Arcadia with this or that woman. But one has his duty to perform; you as well as I; and duty is the highest law ...

HELEN. I think I know better by this time, Oscar, what is the highest law.

GERARDO. Well, what is it? Not your love, I hope? That's what every woman says! Whatever a woman wants to carry through she calls good, and if anybody refuses to yield to her then he is bad. That's what our fool playwrights have done for us. In order to draw full houses they put the world upside down and call it great-souled if a woman sacrifices her children and her family to indulge her senses. I should like to live like a turtledove, too. But as long as I have been in this world I have first obeyed my duty. If after that the opportunity offered, then, to be sure, I've enjoyed life to the full. But if one does not follow one's duty, one has no right to make the least claims on others.

HELEN (looking away; abstractedly). That will not bring the dead to life again ...



Permission Albert Langen, Munich FROM OLAF GULBRANSSON'S "FAMOUS CONTEMPORARIES"

GERARDO (nervously). Why, Helen, don't you see, I want to give back your life to you! I want to give back to you what you have sacrificed to me. Take it, I implore you! Don't make more of it than it is! Helen, how can a woman so disgracefully humiliate herself! What has become of your pride? With what contempt would you have shown me my proper place if I had fallen in love with you, if it had occurred to me to be jealous! What am I in the eyes of the society in which you move! A man who makes a clown of himself! Would you fling away your life for a man whom a hundred women have loved before you, whom a hundred women will love after you without allowing it to cause them a moment of distress! Do you want your flowing blood to make you ridiculous in the sight of God and man?

HELEN (looking away). I know very well that I am asking an unheard-of thing of you but—what else can I do ...

GERARDO (soothingly). I have given you all that's in my power to give. Even to a princess I could not be more than I have been to you. If there is one thing further our relations, if continued, might mean to you, it could only be the utter ruin of your life. Now release me, HELEN! I understand how hard you find it, but—one often fears one is going to die. I myself often tremble for my life—art as a profession is so likely to unstring one's nerves. It's astonishing how soon one will get over that kind of thing. Resign yourself to the fortuitousness of life. We did not seek one another because we loved each other; we loved each other because we happened to find one another! (Shrugging his shoulders.) You say I must bear the consequences of my acts, Helen. Would you in all seriousness think ill of me now for not refusing you admittance when you came under the pretext of having me pass on your voice? I dare say you think too highly of your personal advantages for that; you know yourself too well; you are too proud of your beauty. Tell me, were you not absolutely certain of victory when you came?

HELEN (looking away). Oh, what was I a week ago! And what—what am I now!

GERARDO (in a matter-of-fact way). Helen, ask yourself this question: what choice is left to a man in such a case? You are generally known as the most beautiful woman in this city. Now shall I, an artist, allow myself to acquire the reputation of an unsociable lout who shuts himself up in his four walls and denies himself to all visitors? The second possibility would be to receive you while at the same time pretending not to understand you. That would give me the wholly undeserved reputation of a simpleton. Third possibility—but this is extremely dangerous—I explain to you calmly and politely the very thing I am saying to you now. But that is very dangerous! For apart from your immediately giving me an insulting reply, calling me a vain conceited fool, it would, if it became known, make me appear in a most curious light. And what would at best be the result of my refusing the honor offered me? That you would make of me a contemptible helpless puppet, a target for your feminine wit, a booby whom you could tease and taunt as much as you liked, whom you could torment and put on the rack until you had driven him mad. (He has risen from the sofa.) Say yourself, Helen; what choice was left to me? (She stares at him, then turns her eyes about helplessly, shudders and struggles for an answer.) In such a case I face just this alternative:—to make an enemy who despises me or—to make an enemy who at least respects me. And (stroking her hair) Helen!—one does not care to be despised by a woman of such universally recognized beauty. Now does your pride still permit you to ask me to take you with me?

HELEN (weeping profusely). Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God ...

GERARDO. Your social position gave you the opportunity to make advances to me. You availed yourself of it.—I am the last person to think ill of you for that. But no more should you think ill of me for wishing to maintain my rights. No man could be franker with a woman than I have been with you. I told you that there could be no thought of any sentimentalities between you and me. I told you that my profession prevented me from binding myself. I told you that my engagement in this city would end today ...

HELEN (rising). Oh how my head rings! It's just words, words, words I hear! But I (putting her hands to her heart and throat) am choking here and choking here! Oscar—matters are worse than you realize! A woman such as I am more or less in the world—I have given life to two children. What would you say, Oscar ... what would you say if tomorrow I should go and make another man as happy as you have been with me? What would you say then, Oscar?—Speak!—Speak!

GERARDO. What I should say? Just nothing. (Looking at his watch.) Helen ...

HELEN. Oscar!—(On her knees.) I am imploring you for my life! For my life! It's the last time I shall ask you for it! Demand anything of me! But not that! Don't ask my life! You don't know what you are doing! You are mad! You are beside yourself! It's the last time! You detest me because I love you! Let not these minutes pass!—Save me! Save me!

GERARDO (pulls her up in spite of her). Now listen to a kind word!— Listen to a—kind—word ...

HELEN (in an undertone). So it must be!

GERARDO. Helen—how old are your children?

HELEN. One is six and the other four.

GERARDO. Both girls?

HELEN. No.

GERARDO. The one four years old is a boy?

HELEN. Yes.

GERARDO. And the younger one a girl?

HELEN. No.

GERARDO. Both boys?

HELEN. Yes.

GERARDO. Have you no pity for them?

HELEN. No.

GERARDO. How happy I should be if they were mine!—Helen—would you give them to me?

HELEN. Yes.

GERARDO (half jokingly). Suppose I should be as unreasonable as you—taking it into my head that I am in love with some particular woman and can love no other! I cannot marry her. I cannot take her with me. Yet I must leave. Just what would that lead me to?

HELEN (from now on growing constantly calmer). Yes, yes.—Certainly.—I understand.

GERARDO. Believe me, Helen, there are any number of men in this world like me. The very way you and I have met ought to teach you something. You say you cannot live without me. How many men do you know? The more you will come to know the lower you will rate them. Then you won't think again of taking your life for a man's sake. You will have no higher opinion of them than I have of women.

HELEN. You think I am just like you. I am not.

GERARDO. I am quite serious, Helen. Nobody loves just one particular person unless he does not know any other. Everybody loves his own kind and can find it anywhere when he has once learned how to go about it.

HELEN (smiling). And when one has met one's kind, one is always sure of having one's love returned!

GERARDO (drawing her down on the sofa). You have no right, Helen, to complain of your husband! Why did you not know yourself better! Every young girl is free to choose for herself. There is no power on earth that could compel a girl to belong to a man whom she doesn't like. No such violence can be done to woman's rights. That's a kind of nonsense those women would like to make the world believe who having sold themselves for some material advantage or other would prefer to escape their obligations.

HELEN (smiling). Which would be a breach of contract, I suppose.

GERARDO. If I sell myself, they are at least dealing with an honest man!

HELEN (smiling). Then one who loves is not honest!

GERARDO. No!—Love is a distinctly philistine virtue. Love is sought by those who do not venture out into the world, who fear a comparison with others, who haven't the courage to face a fair trial of strength. Love is sought by every miserable rhymester who cannot live without being idolized by some one. Love is sought by the peasant who yokes his wife together with his ox to his plow. Love is a refuge for molly-coddles and cowards!—In the great world in which I live everybody is recognized for what he is actually worth. If two join together, they know exactly what to think of one another and need no love for it.

HELEN (once more in a pleading tone). Will you not introduce me into that great world of yours!

GERARDO. Helen—would you sacrifice your own happiness and that of your family for a fleeting pleasure!

HELEN. No.

GERARDO. Do you promise me to return to your family without show of reluctance!

HELEN. Yes.

GERARDO. And that you will not die, not even as one might die of some ailment!

HELEN. Yes.

GERARDO. Do you really promise me!

HELEN. Yes.

GERARDO. That you will be true to your duties as a mother—and as a wife!

HELEN. Yes.

GERARDO. Helen!

HELEN. Yes!—What more do you want!—I promise you.

GERARDO. That I may leave town without fear!

HELEN (rising). Yes.

GERARDO. Now shall we kiss each other once more!

HELEN. Yes—yes—yes—yes—yes—yes ...

GERARDO (after kissing her in a perfunctory manner). A year from now, Helen, I shall sing again in this town.

HELEN. A year from now!—Yes, to be sure.

GERARDO (affectedly sentimental). Helen! (HELEN presses his hand, takes her muff from the chair, pulls from it a revolver, shoots herself in the head and sinks to the floor.) Helen! (He totters forward, then backward and sinks into an armchair.) Helen! (Pause.)



SCENE X

Same as before. The elevator boy. Two chambermaids. A scrubwoman. MUeLLER. proprietor of the hotel. The valet.

ELEVATOR BOY (enters, looks at GERARDO and at HELEN). Mr.—Mr. Gerardo! (GERARDO does not move. Boy steps up to HELEN. Two chambermaids and a scrubwoman, scrubber in hand, edge their way in hesitatively and step up to HELEN.)

SCRUBWOMAN (after a pause). She's still alive.

GERARDO (jumps up, rushes to the door and runs into the proprietor. Pulls him forward). Send for the police! I must be arrested! If I leave now, I am a brute and if I remain, I am ruined, for it would be a breach of contract. (Looking at his watch.) I still have a minute and ten seconds left. Quick! I must be arrested within that time!

MUeLLER. Fritz, get the nearest policeman!

ELEVATOR BOY. Yes, Sir!

MUeLLER. Run as fast as you can! (Exit elevator boy. To GERARDO.) Don't let it upset you, Mr. GERARDO. That kind of thing is an old story with us here.

GERARDO (kneels down beside HELEN, takes her hand). Helen! She's still alive! She's still alive! (To MUeLLER.) If I am arrested, it counts as a legal excuse. How about my trunks?—Is the carriage at the door?

MUeLLER. Has been there the last twenty minutes, Sir. (Goes to the door and lets in the valet who carries down one of the trunks.)

GERARDO (bending over HELEN). Helen!—(In an undertone.) It can't hurt me professionally. (To MUeLLER.) Haven't you sent for a physician yet?

MUeLLER. The doctor has been 'phoned to at once. Will be here in just a minute, I am sure.

GERARDO (putting his arms under HELEN'S and half raising her). Helen!—Don't you recognize me, Helen?—Come now, the physician will be here in just a moment!—Your Oscar, Helen!—Helen!

ELEVATOR BOY (in the open door). Can't find a policeman anywhere!

GERARDO (forgets everything, jumps up, lets HELEN fall back to the floor). I must sing "Tristan" tomorrow! (Colliding with several pieces of furniture, he rushes out through the centre door.)



ERNST HARDT

* * * * * *

TRISTRAM THE JESTER[A]

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

MARK, King of Cornwall

ISEULT of Ireland (MARK'S wife)

BRANGAENE, ISEULT'S lady

GIMELLA, ISEULT'S lady

PARANIS, ISEULT'S page

DUKE DENOVALIN

SIR DINAS of Lidan

SIR GANELUN

UGRIN, MARK'S jester

STRANGE JESTER, disguise of TRISTRAM of Lyonesse

STRANGE LEPER, disguise of TRISTRAM of Lyonesse

Also five Gaelic Barons. IWEIN, the King of the Lepers. The Lepers of Lubin, a Herald, a young shepherd, the Executioner. Three guards in full armor, the Strange Knight, Knights, Men-at-arms, grooms and a group of the inhabitants of the town.

Dress and bearing of the characters have something of the chaste, reserved manner of the princely statues in the choir of Naumburg Cathedral.

Scene—The Castle of St. Lubin

[Footnote A: Permission Richard G. Badger, Boston.]



TRISTRAM THE JESTER (1907)

TRANSLATED BY JOHN HEARD, JR.



ACT I

ISEULT'S apartment at St. Lubin.—A curtain hung from the ceiling cuts off one-third of the room. This third is raised one step above the rest of the room. The background is formed by a double bay-window through which may be seen the tops of some pine trees. In front of a couch, on a small table, stands a large gold shrine in which rests the magic brachet Peticru, a toy of jewels and precious metals. Beside it stands a burning oil torch. The remaining two-thirds of the room are almost empty. A table stands in the foreground; on the floor lies a rug on which are embroidered armorial designs. In the middle and at both sides are wide double doors. ISEULT sits on the couch before the shrine. She is clad in a fur-trimmed robe. BRANGAENE loosens ISEULT'S hair which is divided into two braids. The cold, gray light of dawn brightens gradually; the rising sun falls on the tops of the trees, coloring them with a flood of red and gold.



SCENE I

ISEULT (singing). Brachet of safran and em'rald! Oh, brachet of purple and gold Once made by the mighty Urgan In Avalun's wondrous wold.

Oh purple, and safran, and gold, When cast in the dim of the night, Have magical power to aid All lovers in sorrowful plight!

Lord Tristram slew mighty Urgan, Lord Tristram the loving, the true, And pitying sorrowful lovers He carried away Peticru. Lord Tristram, the thoughtful and valiant, Lord Tristram, the noble and high, Has sent me this wondrous brachet Lest weeping and grieving I die.

Lord Tristram, my friend, is unfaithful, And God's wrath on him shall descend; Though cruelly he has betrayed me, My love even death cannot end.

Iseult with her hair of spun gold, Where rubies and emeralds shine, When the end of her life is at hand, Round Tristram some charm can entwine.

—When Tristram too shall die....

[ISEULT stands up, extinguishes the light, and, flooded by her hair, steps to the window. BRANGAENE opens a chest from which she takes robes, combs, a mirror, and several small boxes. She prepares a small dressing table.]

ISEULT. The light begins to filter through the land; Behold, the trees with storm-bow'd tips drop down A thousand drops into the moss below That seem as many sparks, all cold and bright.

Each day is followed by another one, And then another day, and after each Comes night. Thus runs my life's long chain of beads, All black and white, endless, and all the same.

[She turns and throws off her cloak.]

Give me my new white cloak, and comb my hair, I pray, Brangaene.—O, it aches!

[BRANGAENE throws a cloak over her shoulders. ISEULT sits down at the dressing table while BRANGAENE combs her hair, dividing it into strands and throwing it, as she combs it, over ISEULT'S shoulder.]

BRANGAENE. The comb Slides like a keel. Its narrow teeth can find No bottom, neither shore in this blond sea. I never saw thy hair so full, Iseult, Nor yet so heavy! See the golden gold.

ISEULT. It aches—!

BRANGAENE. And here it's damp as though last night It secretly had dried full many tears.

ISEULT. I wonder if Lord Tristram spent last night By his new bride—and if he calls her all Those sweetest names he made for me. Perhaps He sat upon her couch and told her tales Of me that made them laugh—! I wonder too If she be fair. Lord Tristram's new-wed bride!—



SCENE II

ISEULT turns quickly as her page comes in by the right hand door. He carries a chess-board and sets it down on the table in the foreground.

ISEULT.

Were then thy dreams too painfully like this life, Paranis, that thou hast outstripped the sun And now, with eyes all red and swollen, star'st So heavily?

PARANIS. Your pardon. Queen Iseult, I could not sleep. Oh lady, what a night! I tremble still!

ISEULT. The night indeed was wild.

PARANIS. Ay, like the sea the gale whips up. The wind Swept all the covers from my bed and left Me cold and trembling. Branches beat the wall Above my head like demons of the storm. The owls kept screaming in the groaning eaves And whispered like lost souls in agony! Hark! Hear him roar! Oh God, it's Husdent! Oh listen to him roar. I never heard A hound thus howl before!

ISEULT. Peace, child. He cries Thus every night since he has lost his lord.

PARANIS. What? Every night and yet King Mark can sleep?

ISEULT. King Mark can sleep as all good knights can sleep At any time and any where, while we, Poor souls, must like a beggar sue for sleep As for an alms.

(To BRANGAENE.)

The mirror and the cloak.

PARANIS. Pray tell me, Queen Iseult, why came we here With good King Mark and left Tintagel's halls? Why journeyed we to St. Lubin? The place Is gloomy and an awful wood grows round The castle walls. Oh 'tis an awful wood. I am afraid, Iseult.

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?

ISEULT (rising). Yes, child, And this the castle—

[BRANGAENE takes the cloak from ISEULT'S shoulders and helps her put on a loose flowing garment. ISEULT'S hair is hidden beneath a close-fitting cap.]

PARANIS (steps nearer, in great surprise). Where ye fled from Mark's Abom'nable decree? The castle makes Me shudder and the wood that grows around.

BRANGAENE (quoting the decree). "And if from this day on Lord Tristram dares To show himself within my realm—he dies, And with him dies Iseult of Ireland ..."

ISEULT (quoting). "And witness here my name signed with my blood—"

[She goes to the table on the right and sets up the chess-men. PARANIS sits on a cushion at her feet. BRANGAENE clears the dressing table.]

PARANIS. Is it since that day thou hast wept, my Queen?

ISEULT. Thou know'st my secret boy and yet canst ask!

BRANGAENE. Inquire not too much, Paranis, lest A deeper knowledge of such things consume Thy soul, and leave in place a cinder-pile.

PARANIS. There's more they say, yet I believe no more.

ISEULT. And what do people say, Paranis?

PARANIS. Why, They say Lord Tristram, since he fled away To save his life, and, ay, to save thine too. Forgot thee. Queen Iseult, and thy great love And wed another in a foreign land.

ISEULT. They call her Isot of the Fair White Hands.

[A pause.]

PARANIS. When I'm a man, and wear my gilded spurs I'll love and serve thee with a truer love Than Tristram did.

ISEULT. How old art thou, my child?

PARANIS. When I first came to serve thee as a page Thirteen I was; that was a year ago. I'm fourteen now, but when I dream, I dream That I am older and I love thee then In knightly fashion, and my sword is dull'd And scarred by blows that it has struck for thee. My heart beats high when I behold thy face; My cheek burns hot or freezes ashen pale. And then, at other times, I dream that I Have died for thee, only to wake and weep That I am still a child!

ISEULT. Listen to me, Paranis. Once, wandering, a gleeman came Two years agone and sang a lay in Mark's High hall; but, see! I said not it applied To us, this song of his. A song it was And nothing more. This lay told of a queen, A certain queen whose page once loved her much, With all the courtesy of Knighthood's laws; Whose every glance was for his lady's face; Whose cheeks alternately went hot and cold When she was near. But when the King perceived His changing color and his burning looks, He slew the boy, and, tearing out his heart, Now red, now pale, he roasted it, and served It to his queen and told her 'twas a bird His favorite hawk had slain that day.

PARANIS. Tell me, I pray, my lady, when a Knight has won His spurs may he write songs?

ISEULT. Ay, that he may.

PARANIS. Since that is so, I'd rather sing than fight. I'll go from court to court and sing in each How Tristram was untrue to Queen Iseult! I will avenge thy wrongs in songs instead Of with the sword, and every one who hears My words shall weep as thou, my queen, has wept. I like the lay about that page's heart Thou toldst me.

ISEULT. Remember it, my child; Brangaene knows the melody thereof. And she shall teach it thee that thou mayst learn The lay.

PARANIS (at the window). The King's awake; I hear him call His hounds.

ISEULT. Then go, Paranis, bear to him My morning and my wifely greeting; say I rested well this night; that thou hast left Me overjoyed and happy that the day Is fair. Now haste thee, boy, for soon The Gaelic barons through the gates shall ride Coming to pay their homage to King Mark, Delay not, child, and if the King shall grant Thee spurs, with mine own hands I'll choose thee out The finest pair, and deep my name shall stand Engraved in the gold. Go greet the King.

[PARANIS kisses the hem of her robe and goes.]



SCENE III

ISEULT. Lord Tristram has kept true unto my name At least—if not to me! 'Tis now the tenth Year that I mourn for him! In countless nights Of endless agony have I repaid Those other nights of happiness and bliss. Through age-long days now beggared of their joy I have atoned for all the smiles of yore. Unkindly have ye dealt with me, sweet friend! Disloyal Tristram! God shall punish thee. Not I.

[BRANGAENE kneels weeping beside her and buries her face in ISEULT'S robes. ISEULT raises her up.]

And thou, dear one, sweet sister, come! My sorrow's past enduring! Help me, help! At Lubin here the very walls have tongues; At Lubin here the sombre forest moans; At Lubin here old Husdent whimpers day And night unceasingly. 'Twas at Lubin I parted from him last, my dearest friend, And to his parting vows I answered thus: "Take, friend, this golden ring with em'rald stone, And if in thy name one shall bring it me, No dungeon walls, no castle gates, no bolts Shall keep me far from thee." And he: "I thank Thee, dearest lady, and I swear that if, At any time, in any place, one calls On me by thy sweet name I'll stand and wait And answer in thy name by day or night." And then—and then—he rode away!

BRANGAENE. Iseult! Iseult, my dearest, might I die, for I, Wretch that I am, am most at fault, Too ready for deceits and secret ways!

ISEULT. Because I love a life, and better still A death, that's great from savage unrestraint, Such as I found in mighty Tristram's love, 'Tis not thy fault. And formerly when thou Didst lend me thine own maiden smock to wear Upon my bridal night with Mark, since mine Was torn when I set foot on Cornish ground, Thou didst fulfill what, as my guardian friend, Thou hadst foreseen in earlier days. Weep not Because I weep; Lord Tristram's treachery Is his, not ours. For this it is I weep.

BRANGAENE. Thou shouldst not say, he is not faithful still. Dear sister. What know we of him or his?

ISEULT. That he has married!

BRANGAENE. Ay, her name's Iseult. My name! I shudder when I think thereon. And lo, his perjured tongue rots not, nor cleaves Unto his teeth, nor does the name he calls Her by choke in his throat and strangle him.

BRANGAENE. Mark me, Iseult, I had not meant to speak, But now I must: a servant of King Mark's Spoke lately of that ship we saw sail in And then cast anchor 'neath Tintagel's walls. A merchant ship it is, he said, and hails Direct from Arundland. Now send And bid these merchants leave their ship and come, That they may tell what they have seen or heard Of Tristram and his fate.

PARANIS (runs in and leaps upon the window-sill). Oh Queen, there come Three Gaelic earls! Dinas of Lidan first.

BRANGAENE (hastening to his side). Come then, Iseult, and from the casement here Behold the faithful Dinas, Tristram's friend!

PARANIS. The one in coat of mail who rides behind Who is the man, Brangaene, canst thou see?

BRANGAENE. Oh God! Denovalin, ill-omened bird Of grim Tintagel.

ISEULT. Arund? Didst thou say A merchant ship sailed in from Arundland? That great gold sail, Brangaene, came across The ocean to Tintagel? What? A ship, And merchant men from Arund? Speak, friend, speak! Thou talk'st of Arund, and remain'st unmoved! Brangaene, cruel, speak and say the men Are on their way to me, or are now here! Torture me not!

BRANGAENE. Nay, hear me speak, Iseult; I said a servant of King Mark's said this; I know not whether it be true; to know We must be back within Tintagel's walls.

ISEULT (in rising agitation). Wait till we're back within Tintagel's walls? Not see the merchants till we are gone back, And linger thus for three whole days, say'st thou? Nay, nay, Brangaene, nay I will not wait. 'Twas not for this ten never-ending years I sat upon Tintagel's tower and watched With anxious eyes the many ships sail o'er The green expanse from sky to sky. 'Twas not For this; that day by day Paranis went, At my behest, down to the port, while I Sat counting every minute, one by one, Until he should return, and tell me tales Of ships and lands indifferent as a fly's Short life to me!—And now thou tellest me A ship is here; a great gold sail lies moor'd Hard by Tintagel's walls, a ship in which Men live, and speak, and say when asked: "Where come ye from!" "From Arundland we sail." Go quick, Brangaene; to Tintagel send, I pray, At once some swift and faithful messenger, And bid him with all haste lead here to me These merchants over night. I need both silks And laces, samite and the snowy fur Of ermines, and whatever else they have. All that they have I'll gladly buy! Let them But ride with speed!

BRANGAENE. Ay, ride as peddlers do! Yet will I send Gawain, since 'tis thy wish, And with him yet another.

PARANIS. Queen Iseult, May I go with Gawain? I'll make them ride, These merchant-men! I'll stick my dagger twixt Their shoulder blades and prick them 'till from fear They fairly fly to thee!

ISEULT. Nay, rather, child, Stay here with me; but help Brangaene find Gawain.

[BRANGAENE and PARANIS open the door at the back of the stage but stand back on either side to permit MARK and the three Barons to enter.]

BRANGAENE. The King!



SCENE IV

BRANGAENE and PARANIS go. MARK and the barons remain standing at some distance from ISEULT. DENOVALIN remains in the background and during this and the following scene stands almost motionless in the same spot.

MARK. There stands Iseult, my queen, All glorious as the summer day that shines O'er all the world! Now welcome, my Iseult! Now welcome to Lubin! These gallant lords Are come to greet thee—Dinas, Ganelun, Denovalin.—They have not seen thee now For many months. And ye, my noble lords. Is she not blonder than of yore?

[He glances at a locket that hangs about his neck.]

For see! This lock of hair Lord Tristram brought me once. Behold it now, 'tis almost black next hers.

ISEULT. I greet thee, Dinas, Lord of Lidan, friend, Most loyal friend:—and thou. Lord Ganelun, Most heartily, for many days have pass'd Since last we met.

DINAS. Ay, many days, Iseult.

ISEULT. Hast thou forgot Tintagel's King and Queen? 'Twas not so once.

GANELUN. I've been at Arthur's court Nigh on two years, and there have taken part In many deeds of high renown. 'Tis this Has kept me from Tintagel and from home.

DINAS. And I, fair Queen Iseult, am growing old; I've left the saddle for the pillow's ease.

(Pointedly.)

I see the chess-board stands prepared and so, If Mark permits, 'tis I who in his place Will lead the crimson pawns today, as we Were wont to do in former days. I love The game but have no friend with whom to play.

MARK. Ay, Dinas, good it is to have some one Who loves us near us in our twilight years; So play today with Goldenhaired Iseult. Perchance it may amuse her too, for oft She seemeth sad, and mourns as women do Who have no children.—God forgive us both! But come, my lords, first let us drink a pledge Of greeting, and permit this man to make His peace with my fair queen. I hate long feuds. Come, friends, come, let us drink, for all this day We'll spend together in good fellowship.

[He leaves the room with DINAS and GANELUN by the door on the right. ISEULT and DENOVALIN stand opposite each other, some distance apart, silent and motionless.]



SCENE V

DENOVALIN (calmly and insinuatingly). Am I a vulture, Queen Iseult, that thou Art silent when I am within thy cage?

ISEULT (angrily). My Lord Denovalin, how dar'st thou show Thyself thus brazenly before me here?

DENOVALIN. Harsh words the Queen Iseult is pleased to use!

ISEULT. And I shall beg the King that he forbid Thee to appear within a mile around The castle with thy visor raised.

DENOVALIN. King Mark Is not my over-lord. I'm not his liege.

ISEULT. And I tell thee, my Lord Denovalin, Thy face is more abhorred by me than plague; More hateful than dread leprosy! Away!

DENOVALIN. More measured should'st thou be in thy reproof.

(Much moved.)

It was for thee I came today, harsh Queen!

ISEULT. When last thou stoodst before my face, my Lord, Naked I was, and men at arms prepar'd The glowing pyre whereon thy jealousy Had doomed my youthful body to be burned! Calm wast thou then; no quiver moved thy face, Untroubled by thy deed. Dost thou forget?

DENOVALIN. And Tristram stood beside thee then, as he Had stood, when I accused thee to King Mark, And when I see him standing next to thee, My eyes grow dim and all the world seems red With blood. 'Twas him I saw, not thee, Iseult, Else had I died of sorrow and of shame.

ISEULT. What, thou? Thou grieve! Thou die of shame? The stones Shall soften and shall melt ere thou, my lord, Hast learned what pity means!

DENOVALIN. Thou dost misjudge Me, Queen Iseult, for when thy foot first touched The Cornish strand as thou stepped'st from thy ship And came to be the bride of Mark, I saw Thee then, and by the Lord, a solemn oath Of loyalty upon thy golden hair To thee I swore! Oh thou wast wondrous fair!

ISEULT. And I, my Lord, what evil did I thee?

DENOVALIN. Thou loved'st Tristram.

ISEULT. What? Denovalin, When, by a miracle of God, I have Escaped the fiery death which thou prepared'st; When, with these tender hands of mine, I bore Before my judges, and without a burn The glowing iron, and with sacred oath Have sworn, thou darest doubt Almighty God's Decree, and dar'st accuse me still, and say I love Lord Tristram with a guilty love? This nephew of my wedded spouse! Of this I'll make complaint unto my sponsors, Lord!

DENOVALIN (calmly). Almighty God thou hast, perhaps, deceived, But we, at least, Iseult, we must be frank, Though enemies, and deal straightforwardly With one another.

ISEULT. Go, thou were-wolf!—Go!

DENOVALIN. There was a time when I, too, heard the song Of birds in spring-time; but the fragrant breath Thy golden hair exhales,—that hair which I Have seen flow rippling through Lord Tristram's hands— Has made me hard and rough—a very beast! I live pent up within my castle walls As some old wolf! I sleep all day and ride At night! Ay, ride until my steed comes home With gasping nostril and with bloody flank, And lies as dead when morning comes! My hounds Fall dead along the road! And yet, may be, That long before the earliest cock has crowed I cry aloud upon thy name each day Like one who swelters in his own life's blood! Remember this, for hadst thou once, Iseult, Beside me ridden ere the night grew dark, Perchance this hatred of all living things Had never got such hold upon my soul. Remember this, throughout the many things Which shall, ere evening, come to pass. And evening comes to thee, Iseult,—to me, To all! And so 'tis best thou understand The secret of the past fairly to judge. This is the peace I fain would have with thee.

ISEULT. I am afraid—afraid—of thee!

DENOVALIN. Thou shouldst Not fear, Iseult, these words so seemingly Devoid of sense!

(Changing the subject.)

At dawn today I rode Along the Morois.

ISEULT. Ay, since that's the road That leads the straightest from thy lofty hall To St. Lubin.—

DENOVALIN. I met a quarry there! A quarry wondrous strange! Shall I, Iseult, Go bring it bound to thee?

ISEULT (in great anxiety). I wish no fur, Or pelts slain by thy hand, Denovalin—

DENOVALIN. That I believe, Iseult, yet it might please King Mark.

(Breaking out passionately.)

It might be that once more Thou felt'st the burning touch of death, all hot And red. And if no safe retreat there were For thee in Cornwall, save my castle walls, And not a man in Cornwall stood to shield Thy golden tresses from the hangman's hand Except myself! If such the case what wouldst Thou do if I said "come?"

ISEULT (wild with terror and despair). If such the case, Oh God of Bethlehem! If such the case I'd fling my arms about the neck of Death, And, clinging close to him, I'd spit at thee, Denovalin! Those wrinkles, cold and hard, About thy mouth on either side disgust Me! Go, Denovalin! I loath thee! Go!

DENOVALIN. I go, Iseult, for thou hast made thy choice; Forget it not. Forget not, too, the pact Of peace my soul has made with thine. Farewell! I'll go and bid Lord Dinas come to play At chess with thee. Play quickly, Queen Iseult, Thy time is short, and short shall be thy game!

[He goes.]



SCENE VI

ISEULT. Oh God, how bitter are his words! They cut Like sharpen'd swords and burn like hissing flames! What is his will? His speech, though witless, ay, And senseless too, insults and threatens me.— It warns me too—of what?—Oh God, I quake! If but Brangaene came, or Dinas came! They come not and this creeping fear—how hard It grips my soul!—More Gaelic barons come—! How often have I stood concealed here And seen him come proud riding through the gate! My friend that comes no more! How grand he was! His lofty stature did o'ertop them all! How nobly trod his steed!—Dear Tristram, friend. Does thy new Isot's heart beat quick as mine At but the thought of thy dear step?

(Kneels down in front of the little shrine.)

And thou, Oh little brachet, thinks thy lord of me, As I of him!—"For they who drink thereof Together so shall love with every sense Alive, yet senseless—with their every thought Yet thoughtless too, in life, in death, for aye—. Yet he, who once has known the wond'rous bliss Of that intoxicating cup of love, Spits out the draught disloyally, shall be A homeless and a friendless worm—a weed That grows beside the road." Oh Tristram, Lord.

DINAS enters. ISEULT rushes toward him.

Dinas of Lidan! Dearest friend, most true! With what has this man threatened me? Of what, Then, warned?—friend, speak, for round me whirls the world; My brain is dizzy with each thought!

DINAS. My Lord Denovalin has bid me come to thee To play at chess. He said thou wast in haste. And has he, as Mark ordered him, made peace With thee?

ISEULT. Made peace with me! I told Thee, Dinas, that he has stirred up the past With gloomy words and threatened me. He spoke Forebodingly of coming days—; I fear His words and know not what is brewing o'er My head!

DINAS. Denovalin has threatened thee! That bodes no good!

ISEULT. What think'st thou, Dinas? Speak!

DINAS. It makes me almost fear that I was not Deceived this morn as through the mist I rode.

ISEULT. Oh Dinas!

DINAS. For I saw a man who rode As secretly, and stole along the way Concealed in the murky mists of dawn. I—

ISEULT. Dinas!

DINAS. Tristram's in the land, Iseult!

ISEULT. Oh Dinas, speak! (Softly.) My friend. Lord Tristram came At dawn today—? The man who loved me so! My dearest Lord—! Oh Dinas, Dinas, didst

(recovering herself)

Thou speak to him?

DINAS (sternly). Twice called I him. He fled.

ISEULT. Oh, why didst thou not call him in my name? He would have stood thee answer then, for that He swore to me he'd do, by day or night At any place....

DINAS. I called him in thy name, And yet he fled away.

ISEULT. He fled from thee?

(Angrily.)

It was not Tristram then! How dar'st thou speak Such slander 'gainst my Lord!

DINAS. I swore that I Would be thy friend, and for thy sake, Iseult, His friend. But now I say Lord Tristram broke The oath he swore to thee, and on this day Hath wronged thee grievously, Iseult.

ISEULT (heavily and brokenly). The spouse Of Isot of the Fair White Hands appeared To thee, say'st thou, and broke his parting oath. The last he swore to Iseult Goldenhaired?

PARANIS (enters in ill-suppressed excitement). Lord Dinas, from King Mark I come. He bids Thee come to him straightway with all despatch, For in the name of justice calls he thee.

ISEULT. Oh Dinas, Dinas, Tristram broke his oath—! Lord Tristram broke his oath—!

DINAS. And dost thou know, My queen, that we must now attempt to ward The consequences of King Mark's decree And its fulfilment from thy head?

ISEULT (angrily). How can An alien woman's spouse affect my life?

DINAS. I go to stem with all the strength I have This current of perdition. Fare thee well.

[As DINAS goes out, three armed guards step into the room and stand on either side of the door.]

ISEULT. And fare thee well, thou truest of the true!

(To the guards.)

And ye, what seek ye here?

GUARD. King Mark has bid Us guard thy door; thou may'st not go abroad Till Mark has bid thee come.

PARANIS (falls on his knees). Gawain lies bound; Brangaene's cast into a prison cell, And something awful's taking place within The castle walls!—I know not what it is!

ISEULT. Paranis, child, be still.



ACT II

The High Hall of St. Lubin Castle.—Bay windows. On the right, in the background is a wide double-door. On the left, in the background, and diagonally to it stands a long table surrounded by high-back chairs. The chairs at either end of the table are higher than the others and are decorated with the royal arms. Against the wall on the left stands a throne.

Four Gaelic barons stand, or sit about the table. LORD GANELUN enters.



SCENE I

A BARON. And canst thou tell us now. Lord Ganelun, What's taking place that we are summoned here In council while our legs are scarcely dry From our long ride?

2D BARON. A welcome such as this I like not, Lords!

GANELUN. I know no more than ye, My lords, who are but lately come.

3D BARON. And where Is Mark, the King?

2D BARON. Instead of greeting us He sends a low born knave, and bids us wait Within these dry and barren walls.

1ST BARON (stands up). By God, I feel a wish to mount my horse and ride Away!

5TH BARON (entering). Do ye, my Lords, know why King Mark Lets Tristram's savage hound, old Husdent live? It needed but a little that it caused My death!

4TH BARON. Just now?

5TH BARON. As I rode by its cage It leap'd against the bars, and made them shake With such a noise that my affrighted horse Uprear'd, and headlong sprang across the court.

GANELUN. The hound is wolflike; none can go within His cage. Three keepers has he torn to death.

5TH BARON. A wild and dang'rous beast! I would not keep The brute within my castle walls.

3D BARON (walks irritatedly to the window). How this Long waiting irks my soul, good friends!

1ST BARON. So cold A welcome have I never yet received, And new the custom is!

GANELUN. Have patience, sirs, It seems King Mark and Lord Denovalin Discuss in secret weighty things—

3RD BARON. —And wish To teach us how to wait!

GANELUN. Nay, here's King Mark!



SCENE II

MARK and DENOVALIN enter; behind them comes a man-at-arms who closes the door and stands against the wall beside it. MARK holds a parchment in his hand, and, without noticing the barons, walks agitatedly to the front of the stage. DENOVALIN goes behind the table and places himself between it and the throne. The barons rise.

1ST BARON. Does Mark no longer know us that he greets Us not?

2D BARON. And dost thou know, my Lord—?

MARK (turning angrily upon the baron). Am I A weak old man because my hair is gray, Because my hands are wrinkled, ay, and hard, Because at times my armor chafes my back? Am I an old and sapless log? A man Used up who shall forever keep his peace?

(Controlling himself.)

I crave your pardon, Lords, pray take your seats.

DINAS. Thou badst me come to thee.

MARK. Yes, Dinas, yes, So take thy place.

(He controls his emotion with great difficulty and speaks heavily.)

And ye, my noble friends, Give ear. A great and careful reckoning shall Take place 'twixt you and me. Your sanctioning word I wish, for what I am about to do, For yonder man has, with an evil lance, Attacked me and he has so lifted me Out of my saddle that my head doth swim, And trembles from the shock, and so I pray You to forgive the churlish greeting ye Received; 'twas accident, not scorn. I bid You welcome, one and all, most heartily.

3D BARON. We greet thee, Mark.

GANELUN. But tell us now what thing So overclouds thy mind; thy welfare dwells Close intertwined with ours.

DENOVALIN (unfolding the parchment). And now, my Lords, Are any of the witnesses not here Who signed the contract and decree which Mark Drew up with Tristram and with Queen Iseult!

1ST BARON. 'Tis then of this decree that thou wouldst speak?

3D BARON. I signed.

4TH BARON. And I.

5TH BARON. And I.

MARK. Three witnesses There were, and ye are three. 'Tis good, my Lords, That we are all assembled here.

[He speaks brokenly and with all the marks of mental suffering and suppressed emotion.]

Ye know How long I lived alone within these walls With my good nephew Tristram and not once Did any woman cross my threshold o'er.

5TH BARON. And 'twas through us that things were changed; we cried Upon thee for a son and heir.

2D BARON. Iseult Then came from Ireland to be thy Queen.

DENOVALIN (coldly, firmly, and in a loud voice). Nobly escorted, in Lord Tristram's care!

MARK (softly). I wooed Iseult, and much it pleased me then To call this sweet and noble lady mine, And so to honor her. But see, it was But for a single day, then came this man

(Points to DENOVALIN.)

And spake to me and said: "Thy wife Iseult And Tristram whisper in the dark!" And since The speaking of that evil word, this world Has turned to hell, and through my veins my blood Has run like seething fire for her sake, Who was my wife, and cried for her as though She were not mine!

3D BARON. But thou didst not believe These evil words?

MARK. No, never in my life Did I fight off a foeman from myself More fiercely than these words.

DENOVALIN (sternly). But soon this man Came back and said: "The hands of Queen Iseult And Tristram's hands are locked when it is dark."

MARK. And then I slunk about them like a wretch, My lords; I spied upon their lips, their hands, Their eyes! I watched them like a murderer; I listened underneath their window-sills At night to catch their dreaming words, until I scorned myself for this wild wretchedness! Nothing, nothing I found, and yet Iseult From that time on was dearer than my God And his Salvation!

GANELUN. Yet thou ever held'st Iseult in honor and esteem!

MARK. Ay, that I did, Friend Ganelun, but soon that man there came And whispered in mine ear: "Art thou stone blind? Thy nephew Tristram and thy Queen Iseult Are sleeping in each other's arms by day And night!" Oh God! Oh God! My Lords, I set To work—and thought I'd caught the pair!—Poor fool!

(He hides his face.)

DINAS. 'Tis so; and thou badst build a mighty pyre Of seasoned wood and well dried peat. But God Almighty blew the fire out. They fled, The twain together, to the Morois land.

MARK. And then one night I stole upon them both. (Lord Dinas knew of this alone, my Lords.) Iseult was sleeping, and Lord Tristram slept An arm's length scarce before me in the moss All pale and wan, and breathed so heavily, So wearily, like some hard hunted beasts.

(Groaning.)

Oh God, how easy was it then!—See what Befell! There, 'twixt their bodies lay a sword, All naked, ay, and sharp— 'Twas Morholl's sword! —Then silently I took it, and I left Mine own, and, like a fool, I wept at their Great purity!

2D BARON. Was Tristram so much moved By this exchange of swords that he gave back Thy wife Iseult?

MARK (violently). And, God! I took her! See His cunning counsel circumvented then The red hot steel and made her innocence Seem more apparent, and her hands shone white, Unburned, and all unscarred like ivory After the test! My nephew Tristram fled, Exiled, and the decree that ye all know Was sealed. So harken now, ye witnesses Of the decree: if Tristram were to break The bond and secretly, and in disguise Return to Cornwall—

3d BARON. God forbid!

4TH BARON. Yet if Lord Tristram should do this and break the bond, And thus endanger both his life and Queen Iseult's—

5TH BARON. If such the case they lied to thee, King Mark, and unto God!

MARK. They lied! They lied! Ay, man, they lied to me and unto God! And now I need no longer feel my way Nor tap about me in the dark, nor bump My soul against my blindness! Ay, they lied! My bed was foul; my life a jest for knaves, For they had lied. But then, behold, that man There came,—Denovalin I hate thee!—came And said Lord Tristram broke the bond—

[The Barons spring up.]

1ST BARON. How so?

2D BARON. What knows he?

3D BARON. Speak, Denovalin!

GANELUN. Thou say'st Lord Tristram broke the bond that holds his life?

5TH BARON. I'll not believe it!

4TH BARON. Tristram wed, ye know, The daughter of King Kark of Arundland.

3D BARON. Denovalin must bring us proofs!

MARK. Gently, My Lords. Before the high tribunal shall He speak. Go, call the Queen.

[The man-at-arms goes.]

DINAS. King Mark, Why dost thou hasten to believe this tale? Remember, 'tis Denovalin who speaks.

MARK. 'Tis not a matter of belief, my friend, I wish to know if for her sake he came; To see her once again—no more. The rest I know, and I know, too, the end of this; This game that's played about my life, my blood. Mine honor!



SCENE III

The guardsman announces the queen who enters the hall followed by PARANIS. She remains in the background. The barons rise as she appears.

GUARDSMAN. Place! Iseult the queen comes! Place!

ISEULT (quietly and gently). Ye called me, sirs; now speak, for I am here.

MARK (takes an angry step toward her, checks himself, and stares at her a moment. He speaks slowly and Without moving).

Lord Dinas, bid Iseult of Ireland draw near!

[ISEULT, without waiting for DINAS, steps to the middle of the hall. MARK does not move and speaks louder.]

Lord Dinas, bid Iseult of Ireland draw near! And sit there by the board—there at the head And facing me.

ISEULT. And may I ask thee now What this extraordinary custom is, That twice thou dost repeat it, Mark? In mine Own land of Ireland I never saw A man thus treat his wife. So, if it suits Thy will,—I'll stand!

[Neither MARK nor the barons move. Anxiously.]

Will no one speak to me?

MARK. My Lords, sit down.

[He walks in front of the table. PARANIS kneels beside ISEULT, who lays her hand upon his head as on the head of a dog.]

ISEULT. Thou call'dst me, Mark, and bad'st Me come in terms full stern and harsh—I came, For 'tis my heartfelt duty to obey. Since thou art good to me and kind. Thou know'st This hall, these men, that stand around, awake Full many a painful memory in my heart, And so I crave a swift reply. What will Ye of me here?

MARK (roughly). Why was Gawain sent forth In secret to Tintagel from Lubin?

ISEULT. He went not secretly, but openly. My Lord, and that because some merchant-men Came to Tintagel from across the seas With merchandise. I wished to bid them come To me that I might choose me from their stock the wares That pleased me and the many things I need.

MARK (scornfully). The purchase must be made at once, I trow! Since here, more than elsewhere, thou need'st such things. 'Tis true that fifteen beasts of burden stayed Behind, all laden with thy things alone, Unnoticed by a well beside the road, Iseult, I recollect me now!

ISEULT. Nay, Lord, Yet St. Lubin brings me full many a sad And weary hour. I, therefore, thought to gain Some slight diversion and amusement too To soothe my woe. Thou know'st the joy I have Of mingled masses of bright colored things Both strange and rare!

(Anxiously.)

The rustling silks; the gold—; Th' embroidery of robes; the jewel's flash;— Furs, chains and golden girdles, needles, clasps! To see, and in my hands to hold such things O'erjoys me much!—A childish whim, perhaps, But thou thyself this pleasure oft procured'st And sent the merchants to my bower. What Wonder is it then that I myself should think Of this same thing?

MARK. 'Tis so, I wronged thy thoughts, For I myself have often brought such men To thee. These peddlers and these mountebanks Are famous friends! I see it now! They come From far and wide; they travel much; they are Both wise and cunning—apt, indeed, to serve As messengers!

ISEULT. Ay, Mark, thou didst me wrong. But greater to Brangaene and Gawain! I pray thee set them free; they but obeyed My will.

MARK (angrily). Bring forth the pair, and set them free These go-betweens Brangaene and Gawain!

[The soldier goes.]

Tell now, my Lord Denovalin, thy tale, And speak thy words distinctly, ay, and loud! And ye, my Lords, I pray you, listen well; A pretty tale!

[He crouches on the steps of the throne, and stares at ISEULT. DENOVALIN steps forward from behind the table.]

DENOVALIN. I rode today at dawn, And, coming through the Morois, saw, while yet The mist was hanging in the trees, around A curving of the road, a man who rode. Full proud and straight he sat upon his steed, But yet he seemed to wish that none should see Him there, for carefully did he avoid The clearer spots, and peering round about, He listened and he keenly watched, then turned Into a thicket when afar he heard The hoof-beats of my horse. I followed him, And soon I was as near as a man's voice Will carry. Loud and haughtily I called To him, but then he drove the spurs so deep Into his steed that, like a wounded stag, It sprang into the air and dashed away. I followed close behind, and bade the man In knightly and in manly honor stand. He heeded not my words and fled away, And then I cried aloud that he should stand, And called him by Iseult the Goldenhaired.

ISEULT (passionately and firmly). And at my name Lord Tristram stood.

(Anxiously.)

Did he Not stand and wait?

(Imploringly.)

Oh, say that at that call Lord Tristram stood!

(Passionately.)

And I will bless thy lips.

MARK (cries out in a muffled voice). Iseult!

ISEULT. I'll kiss thy hand, my Lord, and I—

DENOVALIN. Who says, proud Queen Iseult, the man I saw Was Tristram, noble Lord of Lyonesse?

ISEULT (her voice becomes proud and cold). My Lord Denovalin, I'll kiss thy hands If thou wilt say my husband's nephew stood And bided you, for sorely would it vex My heart if such a knight should flee from such A man as thou! 'Twould shame me much, for know, My Lord Denovalin, I scorn and hate Thee as a cur!

DENOVALIN (suppressing his emotion). If Tristram stood or fled From me, I do not say.

ISEULT. That vexes me Indeed, for now, my Lords, I turn to you With deeper and more serious complaints Against Lord Tristram that so rashly he Has broken Mark's decree, thus forcing me To share a guilt of which my soul is clean!

MARK (crouches on the steps of the throne groaning). Oh see how well her Irish tongue can twist Her words to suit her will! Her words are smooth; So smooth that when one grasps them they escape The hand like shining, slippery, squirming snakes! And she has subtle words, caressing words, And words that set the mind on fire; hot words That burn, and haughty ones that swell and puff Like stallions' nostrils, and toss high their heads! Oh she has words, and words, and many words With which to frame her lies!

(He takes a step toward ISEULT. Angrily.)

And see her eyes! Those wondrous eyes! Eyes for deceit! She has Deceived me with those eyes and lips of hers since first She set her foot upon the Cornish shore!

ISEULT (trembling with shame and anger). Thy words are like the shame of women, Mark! Like filthy hands! Irish I am, but there, In word and deed, polite restraint prevails And courteous measuredness; there fiery wrath Becomes ne'er master of the man! And so I was not taught in early youth to guard Myself from drunkenness of wrath!

MARK. O hark! That was a sample of her haughty words! Iseult the Goldenhaired of Ireland Didst thou with thine own hand and blood sign this?

ISEULT. Ay, Mark, I signed the bond.

(With closed eyes quoting.)

"And if from this Day on Lord Tristram dares to show himself Within my realm, he dies, and with him dies Iseult of Ireland"—I signed my name And wrote it with my blood.

MARK. Denovalin Most solemnly has pledged his head and soul That he has seen my nephew Tristram, Lord Of Lyonesse within my realm, and so, If none stand forth to contradict, Iseult Of Ireland shall die.

DINAS (stands up). Denovalin Has lied!

MARK. Dinas of Lidan!

GANELUN. Well said, good Dinas!

DINAS. I, too, did meet a man today At early dawn whom I first held to be Lord Tristram, nephew of King Mark. Since from the east I rode and thou, my Lord Denovalin, came through the Morois land From thy good castle in the west, and since Lubin stood as a central point between Us both, Lord Tristram must have been two-fold That in the east and in the west he crossed My path, and at the self-same hour, the road Of Lord Denovalin. This cannot be And so one of the men was not the true Lord Tristram; one of us was therefore wrong. And if 'twas one, then why not both My Lord Denovalin and I?

MARK. Dinas, Had I not known thee from thy youth I might Have held thee guilty with Iseult! Has she Ensnared thee too with perjured oaths and false And lying countenance, that thou dost seek To die for her so eagerly? Thy hair Is gray like mine. Thou dreamest, man, Denovalin has pledged his word that he Has seen Lord Tristram! Ponder well ere thou Take up his downflung glove.

2D BARON. Yet Dinas may Be right.

3D BARON. I think so too.

5TH BARON. There cannot be Two Tristrams in the Morois wood.

DENOVALIN (springing up). My Lords, I've pledged my word! Take heed unto your tongues!

GANELUN. It seems but right to me that Queen Iseult Should not be put to death until the true Lord Tristram, quick or dead, be found.

2D BARON. Well said Lord Ganelun!

3D BARON. So think we all. King Mark!

ISEULT. By God! my Lords, it is enough! ye sit Discussing here in calm indifference If I shall live or die, as though I were An animal! My race is nobly sprung; I will that ye bow down before my blood, Since ye do not bow down to womanhood! I will that ye permit me to return To my apartments and that ye do not Here keep me standing like a haltered beast! King Mark may let me know your will when ye Decide. And now I wish to go.

MARK (in swelling anger). Oh hear her, My Lords, hear her, does she not make one wish. Groaning, to cast oneself before her feet; To kiss her very shoes when she can find Such noble sentiments and words! Behold Her there! Is she not fuller than the whole Wide world of smiles and tears. And when she laughed With that fair mouth, entrancing and all pale, Or silvery bright that God's whole world did dance And sing in God's own hand, 'twas not on me She smiled. And when upon her lowered lids There trembled tears like drops of pearly dew Upon a flower's brim, 'twas not for me She wept! A phantom hovered over us In all the sweet dark hours; 'twas for this ghost, The phantom likeness of Lord Tristram's self, She wept and smiled, true to her soul, though all The while her soulless body lay all cold Within mine arms deceiving me with smiles And tears! She shall not die till Tristram can Be found. Bethink you, Lords, the minutes that Ye grant that mouth to smile! The minutes that Ye grant those eyes to weep! Whom will it not Deceive,—her laughter and her tears! Both you, And me, and God! But I will change her smiles To tears; her weeping to the bitter laugh Of hideousness, that we at last may rest, And be secure from all her woman's wiles! And since she shall not die, then I will give her As a gift! This surely is my kingly right, For I am Mark, her lawful spouse and lord. Today at noon, when in the sun her hair Shall shine the brightest in the golden light Unto the leprous beggars of Lubin I'll give her as a gift!

DINAS. Mark, art thou mad?

PARANIS. The Queen! Oh help!

ISEULT (recovering herself). 'Tis nought; I'm better now.

GANELUN. Thou speak'st a thing, in sorrow and in wrath, A thing so terrible one fears to think Thereon!

1ST BARON. Bethink thee, Mark!

2D BARON. Thou ravest, King.

4TH BARON. Thou dost a most foul thing;—recall thy words!

MARK (crouches on the steps of the throne with his back to the barons). At mid-day shall the lepers of Lubin Collect, and wait within the court.

DINAS. Farewell, King Mark, I'll stay with thee no more!

GANELUN. I go With thee.

1ST BARON. And I.

2D BARON. We leave thee, one and all!

MARK (turns his head, almost smiling). Will no one stay with me?

DENOVALIN (stepping forward). I will, King Mark.

MARK (springing up). Oh, drive this man outside the walls, and bid Him ride with speed! I feel a great Desire to dip my hands in his foul blood After this awful marriage feast! And if A second time the Lord shall testify 'Gainst thee, Denovalin, then shalt thou die! I swear it! Thou shalt die!

DENOVALIN (calmly). My castle walls Are high and strong, oh Mark!

ISEULT. What loathsome brutes, What wretched beasts lust makes of men! Behold Thyself, Oh Mark, thou that art wise and kind; How deep consumed by lust! Thou wilt not let Me live, but dost thy best to shame. That which Thou lovest most, thou castest forth to be A prey to vultures, and thou think'st the while Thou hatest me! Oh Mark, how thou dost err In thinking that thou hatest me! Behold, I pity thee! And shall I now beseech, And wring my hands, humbling myself to thee? I do not know how women nobly born Can live on through the loathsome leper test, And will not think thereon, for 'tis enough To make a woman die, yet, once again, Before you all; before my God I swear, And will repeat my solemn oath, and then, When I have sworn it, He will send His help Or let my flesh be torn between the dogs And leprous human vultures of Lubin. I swear that I have never thrilled with love But for that man who elapsed me in his arms, A maiden still, as clean and pure as snow New-fallen on a winter's morn. This man, And this man only, have I loved with all The faith and passion of my womanhood. I gave myself to him with all my soul; My heart was full of dancing and of song; My love was wreathed in smiles as some May-morn Laughs softly on the mountain tops. This man I loved; no other have I loved, though he May grieve, and shame me, and deceive!—King Mark!

MARK (almost screaming). Oh shield me, he that loves me, from her oaths!

DENOVALIN (turns calmly to ISEULT). Lead back the Queen into her chamber, page!



ACT III

The Inner Courtyard of the Castle.—In the foreground at the left is the Castle gate. In the background on the right, at the top of a broad flight of steps, under an arcade of columns, stands the door of the chapel. At the left of the gate entering the courtyard are some buildings, behind which may be seen the high castle walls surmounted by trees. The road from the Castle to the church is laid with carpets. In the middle of the stage, on the right, stands a stone well. In the background is a crowd of people held back by three armed guards. At the foot of the steps, one on each side, stand two men-at-arms.



SCENE I

1ST GUARD. Back, crowd not there! Stand back!

2D GUARD. The children may Stand in the front, but hold them. There crawls one!

1ST GUARD (pushing the child back into the crowd). My little friend, get back! Now see, I'll make A line upon the ground, and if thy toes, But by a hair's breadth, cross that line again, I'll drop my spear on them and they shall be As flat as any barley cake.

[Laughter.]

1ST GIRL. Ha, Ha!

2D GIRL. Hast thou become a baker, oh Gilain!

1ST GUARD (lifting his mailed hand). Ay, wench, would'st see me knead my dough?

[Laughter.]

A BOY. Be still I hear the crier's voice from down below!

A GIRL. He's wandered up and down the streets since dawn And called until my blood runs cold!

THE BOY. Hush.

THE GIRL. Hark!

VOICE OF THE CRIER (distant and ringing). Today at noon, because King Mark has found Her faithless and untrue, shall Queen Iseult Be given to the lepers of Lubin,— A gift to take or leave. And, furthermore, Lord Tristram, who was once her paramour, Transgressed King Mark's decree by entering His realm. Whoever catches him and brings Him quick or dead unto the King shall have One hundred marks of gold for his reward. 'Tis good King Mark's decree that every one Should hear and know these things that I have cried.

A CHILD. Oh, I'm afraid! Will he come here, that man?

THE GIRL. I know it all by heart, and still he cries!

A MAN. Ay, let him cry!

ANOTHER MAN. Lord Tristram, he's a fox; To catch him they must have a good deep pit Or else he'll scratch them so that all their lives They'll think thereon.

A GIRL. Tristram's a noble lord, I'd shield him an I could.

A SECOND GIRL. I want to see The Queen close by.

A THIRD GIRL. Ay, so do I!

A FOURTH GIRL. I'll strew Some flowers in her path as she goes past.

1ST GIRL. My father made her once a pair of shoes Of fine white satin, bound with golden clasps And crimson 'broidery. He says her feet Are delicate and small; as white and slim As are the Virgin Mary's in the shrine That stands within Tintagel's lofty church Above the great high altar.

4TH GIRL. Poor, poor soul!

OLD WOMAN. Ay, let her see where those white feet of hers Have carried her!

3D GUARD (to a boy who has climbed upon the wall). Hey, thou! Come down! The wall And rocks are full an hundred fathoms high, So, if thou fall, thy howling will not help.

THE BOY. I want to sit here when the lepers come!

ANOTHER BOY. A good place that! I'll climb up too.

A FOURTH BOY. I too!

1ST GUARD. Now none of you may stay within the court To stare when Queen Iseult is given o'er Unto the lepers. Mark has granted this Unto the Queen since 'twas her only wish. Ye all must go into the church.

A MAN. May none Then stay without and watch the lepers?

ANOTHER MAN. 's wounds! Why then I came for nothing, all this way!

A WOMAN (indignantly). Oh shame, thou beast, would'st gloat and make a show Of that which one scarce dares to think of? Fie! For such foul thoughts thou shouldst be thrown To Husdent to devour!

2D GUARD. Stop wrangling, there!

A GIRL. Poor Queen! I pity her!

A SECOND GIRL. King Mark's too harsh!

A MAN. She's made a cuckold of him, Girl!

OLD WOMAN. And now He's tossing her with those new horns of his!

YOUNG SHEPHERD. Is then the Queen Iseult so wondrous fair As she is said to be?

A GIRL. Hast thou not seen The Queen?

SHEPHERD. No, never yet!

A GIRL. He's never seen The Queen?

A BOY. Behold, here's one who never saw Our Queen!

A VOICE. Who is he?

1ST GUARD. Speak, where wast thou, friend, When Queen Iseult stood bound here to the stake?

A GIRL. All naked in her wondrous beauty—

ANOTHER GIRL. All For her great love.

THE BOY. We all did see her then.

SHEPHERD. I've come since then from Toste in the hills.

A WOMAN. Here, let this fellow stand in front, that he May see the Queen's fair face before this swarm Of vultures has devoured it.

1ST GUARD. Come here; If thou hast never seen the Queen thou may'st Stand here beside the steps.

SHEPHERD. I thank thee.

A SOLDIER (drawing him beside him). Here!

A VOICE. Here come the soldiers!

A CHILD. Lift me, father.

A VOICE. Hsh—!



SCENE II

Soldiers march past and enter the church. The church door stays open.

A GIRL. I pray thee, Gilain, who will lead the Queen?

1ST GUARD. The hangman and King Mark.

THE GIRL. Poor soul!

OLD WOMAN. Why weep'st Thou, girl?

OLD MAN (as a crucifix is carried past). Friends, cross yourselves. The crucifix!

SHEPHERD (leans forward so that he can see across the courtyard into the castle). Behold, she comes! My God, how beautiful—! An angel—!

THE SOLDIER (as GIMELLA passes). That, my friend, is but her maid Gimella.

2D GUARD. Back! Stand back! Thou shalt not push!

SHEPHERD. Oh there! Behold, she is a fairy! Yea, And she is fairer than Gimella far! I'll fall upon my knees when she goes past. She's wondrous fair, ay, fairer than a flower, A lily—See—!

THE SOLDIER (as BRANGAENE goes by). Stand up, thou knave, for that's Brangaene. She's our lady's faithful maid.

SHEPHERD. She too was fair! Can one imagine then, There's any one more beautiful than she? What wondrous women Mark has at his court! Such ladies have I never seen—There dwell None such in Toste! See—! This one—! Oh, God! Oh, God! The sun has fall'n—! Its blinding rays—!

[Falls on his knees.]

KARL HAIDER

THE SOLDIER (softly). That was the Queen!

[ISEULT walks past between MARK and the hangman. She is draped in a purple cloak; her feet are bare. PARANIS follows her. Part of the crowd kneels down.]

SHEPHERD (staring). Oh, Queen Iseult! Iseult The Goldenhaired!

A GIRL. Oh fairest, dearest one!

ANOTHER GIRL. Oh Queen, smile down upon us once again!

[A rattling sound is heard. The Strange Leper steps from behind one of the columns. His bearded face is hidden by the hood of his cloak. The crowd draws away shuddering, the procession halts. The leper kneels before ISEULT and bows so low that his forehead almost touches her feet.]

A VOICE. A leper, see!

A GIRL. Oh Virgin Mary, help!

A 2D GIRL. Whence came he here!

A 3D GIRL. He had concealed himself!

MARK (slowly). —Thou cam'st too soon my friend!

[The leper disappears sidewise under the steps. The procession goes into the church, from which an organ begins to sound. The soldiers and the crowd follow after.]

A GIRL (covering her face with her hands). Oh, our poor Queen!

A 2D GIRL. She was like alabaster, cold and white!

A 3D GIRL. Not once along the awful way she raised Her eyes!

A 4TH GIRL. She did not wish to see!

THE 1ST GIRL. Oh fie, That Mark should shame her so!

THE 2D GUARD. Make haste, ye must Go in!

1ST GUARD (to the kneeling shepherd). Wake up! Thou too must go within The church. Now come!

SHEPHERD. The sun fell down! It grazed my eyes!

A GIRL. I'll pray with all my heart For our poor Queen!

A 2D GIRL. We all will pray—and curse The King!

3D GUARD. Thou slut, be still, and hold thy tongue! Make haste into the church—go in!

1ST GUARD. I hear The lepers coming! hark!

3D GUARD. Here, girl, thou'st dropped Thy kerchief!

[He picks it up.]

THE GIRL. Thanks!

1ST GUARD (taking the old man by the arm). Take hold of me, old man. Make haste.

[The doors of the church close: the stage remains empty for a few seconds. The music of the organ swells, and a hymn is heard. Then, by snatches, first distantly, then nearer, the rythmical rattling of the lepers resounds.]



SCENE III

The lepers enter the courtyard. They are a wild pack dressed in gaudy rags, and rumpled, armless cloaks with hoods; carrying long staves and crutches; with colored cloths bound about their sinister foreheads. Their faces are sunburnt, their hair is snow-white and streams in the wind. Some have their heads shaved. Their arms and feet are bare. Altogether they present a motley appearance, though the hardships of their life, as a band forced to live together, give them the aspect of weather-beaten and dried chaff driven hither and thither by the wind. They stand shyly and rock unsteadily on their dried and shrunken legs—silent and restless. Like ghosts of the noonday, they try to hush their voices throughout the scene.

IWEIN (is the first to enter; the others file past him). Come quick! They've all gone in!

A LEPER. Right here The cat shall catch the bird!

A YOUNG LEPER (wearing a wreath, made of three or four large red flowers, in his dark hair). Heisa! Heisa!

IWEIN. Speak softly, there, lest ye disturb the mass.

AN OLD LEPER (feeble, and supporting himself on a crutch, in the tone of the town crier, almost singing). Today shall Queen Iseult, our good King's spouse Be given to us, the lepers of Lubin— So cried the herald!—

YOUNG LEPER. Brother, brother, dance With me, for I'm the bridegroom—Ah!—

OLD LEPER (in the same tone). Today Shall Queen Iseult—

[Every time that the old leper begins to speak he is silenced by the others.]

YOUNG LEPER (striking him). Thou fool!

(To a fourth leper.)

Come dance!

4TH LEPER. Be still! At noon to eat raw turnips, then at night To have the Queen to sleep with in the straw! Ha, ha! It makes me laugh!

A REDHAIRED LEPER. King Mark shall give Us wine to celebrate our wedding feast!

YOUNG LEPER (dancing). Oh, brother, come and dance with me!

A SIXTH LEPER. I want To look at her and then get drunk!

YOUNG LEPER. Come, then, And dance with me, my little brother, dance!

IWEIN (coming from the gate). Be still, and stand in order by the steps, That we may see her when the hangman brings Her forth.

1ST LEPER (sits down on the ground). I will not stand.

IWEIN. Then crawl, thou toad!

7TH LEPER. Iseult the Goldenhaired!—The lepers' bride, And Queen!

(He laughs.)

REDHAIRED LEPER. Well spoken, friend! We'll call her that!

OLD LEPER. Today shall Queen Iseult—

8TH LEPER. She shall be mine I' the morning of all holidays!

1ST LEPER. And I Will have her late at night.

REDHAIRED LEPER. I'll take her first!

6TH LEPER. Not so; Iwein shall have her first for he's Our King!

YOUNG LEPER (to redhaired leper). Who? Thou?

9TH LEPER. Thou have her first? Who art Thou, then, thou redhaired knave?

10TH LEPER (calling out loudly). Here's one who says He'll tame the Queen!

1ST LEPER. Oh, break his jaw!

YOUNG LEPER. I want Her now, my friends; my loins burn and itch For her!

REDHAIRED LEPER. I'll beat you, cripples, and I'll make You all more cripple than ye are, Unless ye give her me to kiss and hug For one full week at least!

IWEIN. What crowest thou, Redheaded rooster!—Ye shall all draw lots For who shall have her after me!

11TH LEPER. Ay, let's Draw lots.

REDHAIRED LEPER. Plague on you all!

4TH LEPER. It's on us now! Come, let's draw lots!

6TH LEPER. Draw lots!

OLD LEPER. But first of all I'll make her mend my clothes.

4TH LEPER (tearing up a cloth). I'll tear the lots!

1ST LEPER. Here, put them in my cloak! Now come, and draw!

12TH LEPER. Look yonder! There's another one.

REDHAIRED LEPER. Where! Where?

[As they crowd around, the Strange Leper steps from behind the column.]

6TH LEPER. There, yonder, see—?

10TH LEPER. Who is he?

9TH LEPER. Look!

YOUNG LEPER (goes to the steps). Who art Thou!

IWEIN. Speak! Art thou a leper too, as we?

OLD LEPER (to the stranger). Today shall Queen Iseult, our good King's spouse—

REDHAIRED LEPER. Be still, old fool!

IWEIN. Wilt thou not answer me? I am Iwein, the Lepers' King; what wouldst Thou here?

[The Strange Leper throws money among them.]

1ST LEPER (leaping, with the rest, to seize the money). Holla!

10TH LEPER. He's throwing money! See!

STR. LEPER. I am a leper from Karesh and wish To dwell among you here at St. Lubin.

4TH LEPER. Thou'st smelt the bird from far, good friend!

REDHAIRED LEPER. We will Admit no new companion to our band!

9TH LEPER. Go home, we'll none of thee!

11TH LEPER. Hast thou more gold?

STR. LEPER (holding up a purse). Iwein shall have it and distribute it Among you, if ye'll take me in.

12TH LEPER. Ha! 's death! Thou art a rich young varlet!

1ST LEPER. Let him stay!

4TH LEPER. I care not if there be one more or less!

IWEIN. Come down to us. What is thy name?

[The Strange Leper comes down from the steps.]

7TH LEPER. How tall Thou art! If Godwin dares to threaten me Thou'lt punish him.

YOUNG LEPER. And what's thy name?

STR. LEPER. Why, call Me then the Sad One, for that is my name.

IWEIN. Then come, thou Sad One, take thy place. They'll keep Us not much longer waiting for our spouse.

6TH LEPER (to the stranger). King Mark's a kind and gen'rous King to think Of giving us a wife!

OLD LEPER (to the stranger). The herald cried That Queen Iseult of Ireland, King Mark's Own spouse today should be—

IWEIN. Fool, hold thy tongue! Let's all together make a noise, and shake Our clappers as a sign.

[They shake their rattles.]

12TH LEPER. The door! The door!

YOUNG LEPER. Be still! Be still! She's coming now!

IWEIN. Be still.



SCENE IV

The door of the church is partially opened. The hangman leads ISEULT out. The Strange Leper falls on his knees and bows deep to the ground.

YOUNG LEPER. Let's fall upon our knees, Iwein!

[A few lepers kneel. The hangman takes ISEULT'S crown and cloak away. She stands there, draped only in her golden hair. Her eyes are closed and she remains motionless.]