Читать книгу The Moor is Dark Beneath the Moon - David Watmough - Страница 6

Dark was the night, and the news ran that Tristan and the Queen were held and that the King would kill them; and wealthy burgess, or common man, they wept and ran to the palace.

“Alas, well must we weep! Tristan, fearless baron, must you die by such shabby treachery? And you, loyal and honoured Queen, in what land was ever born a king’s daughter so beautiful, so dear? Is this humped-back dwarf, the work of your auguries? May he never see the face of God who, having found you, does not drive his spear into your body!…But you, Tristan, you fought for us, the men of Cornwall…”

Night ended and the day drew near. Mark, before dawn, rode out to the place where he held pleas and judgement…. At the hour of Prime he had a ban cried through his land to gather the men of Cornwall; they came with a great noise and none but did weep saving only the dwarf of Tintagel.

—The Romance of Tristan and Iseult