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.