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.