The succeeding scene shows them on a terrace at the exit of the vaults.  Golaud warns Pelleas.  “About Melisande:  I overheard what passed and what was said last night.  I realize that it was but child’s play; but it must not be repeated....  She is very delicate, and it is necessary to be more than usually careful, as she is perhaps with child, and the least emotion might cause serious results.  It is not the first time I have noticed that there might be something between you....  You are older than she; it will suffice to have said this to you.  Avoid her as much as possible, though not too pointedly.”

The next scene passes before the castle.  Golaud and his little son Yniold, the innocent playfellow of Melisande and Pelleas, are together.  Golaud questions him.  “You are always with mama....  See, we are just under mama’s window now.  She may be saying her prayers at this moment....  Tell me, Yniold, she is often with your uncle Pelleas, is she not?” The child’s naive answers inflame his jealousy, confirm his suspicions, though they baffle him.  “Do they never tell you to go and play somewhere else?” he asks.  “No, papa, they are afraid when I am not with them....  They always weep in the dark....  That makes one weep, too....  She is pale, papa.”  “Ah! ah!... patience, my God, patience!” cries the anguished Golaud....  “They kiss each other sometimes?” he queries.  “Yes ... yes; ... once ... when it rained.”  “They kissed each other?—­But how, how did they kiss?” “So, papa, so!” laughs the boy, and then cries out as he is pricked by his father’s beard.  “Oh, your beard!...  It pricks!  It is getting all gray, papa; and your hair, too—­all gray, all gray!” Suddenly the window under which they are sitting is illuminated, and the light falls upon them.  “Oh, mama has lit her lamp!” exclaims Yniold.  “Yes,” observes Golaud; “it begins to grow light.”  Yniold wishes to go, but Golaud restrains him.  “Let us stay here in the shadow a little longer....  One cannot tell, yet....  I think Pelleas is mad!” he exclaims violently.  He lifts Yniold up to the window, cautioning him to make no noise, and asks him what he sees.  The child reports that Melisande is there, and that his uncle Pelleas is there, too.  “What are they doing?  Are they near each other?” “They are looking at the light.”  “They do not say anything?” “No, papa, they do not close their eyes....  Oh! oh!...  I am terribly afraid!” “Why, what are you afraid of?—­look! look!” demands Golaud.  “Oh, oh!  I am going to cry, papa!—­let me down! let me down!” insists Yniold, in nameless terror.

ACT IV