coward knight!--
Death-devoted head!
Death-devoted heart!--

(_laughing unnaturally_).

Think'st highly of yon minion?

BRANGÆNA (_following her glance_).
Whom mean'st thou?

ISOLDA. There, that hero
who from mine eyes
averts his own:
in shrinking shame
my gaze he shuns--
Say, how hold you him?

BRANGÆNA. Mean you Sir Tristan,
lady mine?
Extolled by ev'ry nation,
his happy country's pride,
The hero of creation,--
whose fame so high and wide?

ISOLDA (_jeeringly_).
In shrinking trepidation
his shame he seeks to hide,
While to the king, his relation,
he brings the corpse-like bride!--