"Tristan," she said, "what have you dared to do, calling me hither at such an hour? Often have you called me -to beseech, you said. And Queen though I am, I know you won me that title-and I have come. What would you?"
"Queen, I would have you pray the King for me."
She was in tears and trembling, but Tristan praised God the Lord who had shown his friend her peril.
"Queen," he went on, "often and in vain have I summoned you; never would you come. Take pity; the King hates me and I know not why. Perhaps you know the cause and can charm his anger. For whom can he trust if not you, chaste Queen and courteous, Iseult?"
"Truly, Lord Tristan, you do not know he doubts us both. And I, to add to my shame, must acquaint you of it. Ah! but God knows if I lie, never went cut my love to any man but he that first received me. And would you have me, at such a time, implore your pardon of the King? Why, did he know of my passage here to-night he would cast my ashes to the wind. My body trembles and I am afraid. I go, for I have waited too long."
In the branches the King smiled and had pity.
And as Iseult fled: "Queen," said Tristan, "in the Lord's name help me, for charity."
"Friend," she replied, "God aid you! The King wrongs you but the Lord God will be by you in whatever land you go."
So she went back to the women's rooms and told it to Brangien, who cried: "Iseult, God has worked a miracle for you, for He is compassionate and will not hurt the innocent in heart."
And when he had left the orchard, the King said smiling: "Fair nephew, that ride you planned is over now."
But in an open glade apart, Frocin, the Dwarf, read in the clear stars that the King now meant his death; he blackened with shame and fear and fled into Wales.