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.