sse

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,