 | The Tragedy of Pardon |  |
Scene I
An ante-room in the Castle of Tintagel, with steps leading up to the Presence-Chamber, shut from sight by heavy, purple curtains.Groups of Noblemen, among them Marjodo, converse and are joined by others from time to time. Melot sits on the steps reading.
1. Nobleman.
At last the revels end!
2. Nobleman.
Our Queen disordered
The daily ceremonial: to-day
We give Time all his customary dues,
And hour by hour his age's privilege.
1. Nobleman.
Is it the Queen?
Marjodo.
I scarcely think it is:
She gives such generous changes to the blood;
Her laughter is as little summer gales.
She alters us
As April alters—'Tis her coming hither.
3. Nobleman.
If I may speak, this Queen is full of peril.
4. Nobleman.
Well said—your wisdom, of your years.
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Ha, ha!
1. Nobleman.
It is Sir Tristan's coming.
Young Nobleman
(to Melot).
Aquitaine,
What is it? Tell us!
Melot
(glancing from the page of his small book).
Our great pelicans
Have fled the haunt they lorded 'mid the fowls.
It is the reason of their flight.
Old Nobleman.
Your wisdom!
Well, you are short of stature; and beside
No gossip! But the wind, my lords, I hear
Was rough and opposite . . . there is a whisper
They put to shore and in a primrose-wood
Tarried one starlit evening.
Marjodo.
Hist! Sir Tristan!
[They all grow silent. Tristan is about to fall into one of the groups silently—then he starts and looks round.
Tristan.
What do I interrupt, what colloquy?
There is no need for silence when I enter,
For nothing Cornwall's nobles can discuss
Could be of languid interest to my ear.
Melot.
We glorify the Queen.
Tristan.
How natural!
Until those curtains may be drawn aside
And all the heaven
Of her full beauty shine on us.
1. Nobleman.
Devout!
2. Nobleman
(on the outside of the group round
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But look—some angry apparition chides.
Enter Iseult by side-door
Iseult.
Tell me, fair nobles—I am much perplexed
By the dark-thridding stairways of this strange,
Enchanted castle. . . . I have found myself
Almost within the dungeons. . . . Urgently
I seek Sir Tristan.
Marjodo
(turning).
In the dungeons, lady?
Iseult.
Oh, everywhere! I am quite wearied out.
1. Nobleman.
Have patience, madam; we are waiting here
To do you homage.
Marjodo.
Is it secret-sweet
The reason of your search? Breathe it to me,
And word for word. . . .
Tristan
(parting the crowd round him).
My Queen, your kinswoman
Must be reproved for this.
2. Nobleman.
Ho, ho, his charge,
Confided to Brangaena, and she slips!
But she is lovely now, not veiled in purple,
Not deeply hooded.
Take our homage, Queen,
To you alone, here standing in our midst.
Your pleasure shall in all be ours.
[Turning their backs to the Presence-Chamber, they all kneel to Iseult.
Iseult.
Sir Tristan,
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Then we had taught them manners. But, Sir Tristan,
You do me wrong: it is not yet the hour,
Though close upon the hour, Brangaena sets
The crown upon my head. I sought you simply
To choose our music at the feast to-night.
Marjodo bade me choose it, and I could not;
Marjodo bade me to consult the king,
I would not, knowing you are all to him,
Attuning all his lays.
Tristan.
That now is changed.
My harp will have but little use; the king
In you has harmony so far more wondrous
Than I can weave into his dreams. I thank you
For your great courtesy. All that the throne
Commands me I obey.
Marjodo, take
The Queen back to her chamber.
Iseult
(to the nobles).
Keep your knees.
You have wrought much offence. Pardon, Sir Tristan;
My royal Irish manners are too plain
For this small, ceremonious land. But later,
When we are Queen, ourselves will breathe the rule.
Marjodo!
[Exit with Marjodo.
Nobles
(to Tristan).
May we rise?
2. Nobleman.
Are you appointed
The Queen's new seneschal?
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My lords, you see
We are sold back to Ireland.
Tristan.
If enslaved,
Enslaved to Beauty.
Pass before your king.
At noon, in full assembly, he proposes
To read to you, his vassals, from his throne,
By how sure titles I have won you Ireland.
The curtains open: pass before your king.
[Mark and Iseult are seen on their thrones, Marjodo and Brangaena in attendance.
1. Nobleman
(to Tristan).
Then you are not a courtier?
Tristan.
To your duty!
Pass, pass!
[The Nobles enter the Presence-Chamber ceremoniously. The great purple curtains fall together.
O infinite, great Powers, O Light
Of Heaven, save her! She has struck among us
As fatal as a goddess.
That Marjodo
Has a sleek eye; he taunted me this morning,
Said he had tracked my steps: I thwarted him;
But as the fury rushed up to her face
Concentred on his visage, I took note
He twitched and writhed aside. Has he betrayed?
My bed-fellow, my early friend, my trusted,
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My imitator, and, in every wrangle,
Jealous, back-biting foe.
Iseult, I dreamed
Of drawing you away, of roving far
Across the seas: but you are framed a Queen,
And must be as the terrible white sapphire
Before your people. All my sanctity
Shall be to hold you white upon your throne.
Iseult!
[He sits on a bench at the side, with head bowed on his hands. The great curtains of the Presence-Chamber are swept apart by King Mark. He drops them and stands before them as they close.
Mark.
Tristan, look up.
Away from me, away.
Tristan, a breath
Of evil rumour has come near the Queen;
A buzz is in the crowd.
There are no weapons
But prayer and vigilance.
Tristan, no more
You may attend the Queen.
We must protect
Her senses from this slander; eye and ear
Will soil, if she suspect that any brain
Conceives of her save as an angel moving
Among us.
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Melot will serve her.
Tristan.
Mark, the infamy
You fix on me! Do you not feel the blow?
[Mark turns sharply away: the purple curtains fall behind him.
| The Tragedy of Pardon | |