TRISTAN AND ISOLDE
[Originaltext]
based on the translation into English verse
BY
RICHARD LEGALLIENNE
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1909
THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, USA.
Digitized by Google
DRAMATIS PERSONNAE
Tristan.
King Marke.
Isolde.
Kurwenal.
Melot.
Brangane.
A Shepherd.
A Steersman.
A Young Sailor.
Sailors, Knights and Pages.
Act I
At sea on Tristan's ship during the crossing from Ireland to Cornwall.
(A tent-like chamber on the forward deck of a ship, covered
with rich hangings that completely shut off the background;
at one side a narrow stairway leading below to the cabin)
SCENE i
(Isolde, on a couch, her face buried in the cushions. Brangane,
drawing aside a curtain, looks aside overboard)
A YOUNG SAILOR
(his voice only is heard, from above, as if he were at the masthead)
The gaze strays to the west.
The ship plies its course to the east.
A fresh wind speeds me
Toward home:
My Irish child,
Where do you tarry?
Is it the breath from your sighs
That fills my sails?
Blow, wind, blow!
Woe, child, woe!
My Irish child,
Wild, winsome child!
ISOLDE
(starting up suddenly)
Who dares to mock me thus?
(she looks around in agitation)
Brangane, there!
Tell me where are we.
BRANGANE
(at the opening)
Blue streaks are rising
Out of the west;
Softly and swiftly
The good ship is sailing;
If but the sea be calm,
Safely by evening
We shall reach land.
ISOLDE
What land?
BRANGANE
Cornwall's green shores.
ISOLDE
Nevermore!
Not today! Not tomorrow!
BRANGANE
Mistress, what do you mean?
(she lets the curtain fall, and hastens, disturbed,
to Isolde)
ISOLDE
(gazing wildly before her)
Degenerate offspring;
Unworthy of your forebears!
Where, O my mother,
Bestowed you the magic
That ruled sea and storm?
O tame is the witchcraft
That brews only balms
To soothe and to heal!
Awake in my bosom,
Where you art hiding,
The will once again!
Winds, timid winds,
Up to the battle!
Lash with your tempests.
Your furious anger.
Lash from its slumber
This smooth dreaming sea;
Stir its abysses
Of ravening hunger;
Cast it the prey
Which I bring.
This insolent ship
Let it shatter and swallow,
And, take, as your share,
O you winds!
The last breath
Of the dead.
BRANGANE
(in extreme alarm for Isolde, and much troubled)
Woe! Woe!
Alas! Alas!
The misfortune I intuited.
Isolde, mistress dear,
O heart of mine!
What have you kept from me,
Mistress, so long?
Without a tear, you left
Father and mother.
And said scarcely a word of farewell
To your friends;
How cold and still you stood
Parting from home!
How pale and speechless
On the way!
Foodless,
Sleepless,
Wild, distracted,
Rigid, wretched;
How did I endure
Seeing you so? —
How strange it seems
To be
Nothing to you!
O tell me
What troubles you.
Say it. O speak it out;
Say what torments you!
Lady Isolde,
If she seems worthy,
Trust your Brangane,
Confide in her.
ISOLDE
Air! Air!
Or my heart will stop —
Open the curtains!
(Brangane quickly draws apart the curtains)
SCENE ii
(The full length of the ship is displayed, up to the stern, with
the sea and horizon beyond. About the mainmast, sailors are
gathered, busying themselves with the tackle. Beyond them are
seen groups of knights and pages; somewhat apart from these
stands Tristan, with folded arms, looking fixedly off over the
sea. At his feet, in a negligent pose, lies Kurwenal. From
the masthead the young sailor is heard singing once more)
THE YOUNG SAILOR
(unseen, at the masthead)
A fresh wind speeds me
Toward home:
My Irish child,
Where do you tarry?
Is it the breath from your sighs
That fills my sails?
Blow, wind, blow!
Woe, child, woe!
ISOLDE
(whose eyes have at once found Tristan, and remain
fixedly on him, gloomily to herself)
O my loved one!
O my lost one!
Lordly and strong.
Brave, yet so weak —
Destined for death, this head!
Destined for death, this heart!
(laughing unnaturally)
What do you think of yonder knave?
BRANGANE
(following her glance)
Whom do you mean?
ISOLDE
That hero yonder.
Who turns his eyes away
From these, my eyes;
Shamefaced and timid,
Looks away.
How does he seem to you?
BRANGANE
Is it Sir Tristan
You mean, my dear mistress?
The man to whom all honors flow,
His noble kingdom's pride,
The hero basking in the glow
Of fame, known far and wide?
ISOLDE
(derisively)
Who, cringing, flees a death blow,
And hides where he may hide,
Because he brings back in his tow
A corpse to be his master's bride!
Does my poem
Seem obscure to you?
Go ask this hero —
Does he dare approach me!
Mark how he disregards
Even the common grace
Of salutation;
Forgets, timorous hero.
The reverence he owes me.
His sovereign mistress —
Catching no glance of mine.
Knight without equal!
Well he knows why!
Go to the proud one.
And take him my order,
I, his liege lady,
That straight he attend me.
BRANGANE
Shall I indeed request
That he attend you?
ISOLDE
No, I command him:
Say, I, Isolde,
His sovereign mistress,
Command him, my vassal.
(at an imperious sign from Isolde, Brangane
passes along the deck, past the busy group of
sailors, to the stern. Isolde, keeping her eyes
fixed on her, settles hack on the couch, where she
remains, with unmoved gaze looking astern, during
what follows)
KURWENAL
(sees Brangane coming, and, without rising, plucks
Tristan by his garment)
Tristan, be on your guard —
A messenger from Isolde!
TRISTAN
(starting)
What is it? Isolde?
(he quickly regains his composure, as Brangane
approaches and bows humbly to him)
From my lady?
Ever her servant;
What is the message
Her trusted maid brings?
BRANGANE
Lord Tristan,
Isolde, my mistress,
Wishes to see you.
TRISTAN
Does the long voyage
Make her weary?
Tell her the end is near,
Yea, before sunset
We shall reach land —
And all that my lady wills
Humbly I'll do.
BRANGANE
Her wish, my Lord Tristan,
Is that you go to her.
TRISTAN
Where yonder green meadows
Seem blue still with distance,
My king is awaiting
My mistress, his queen —
Soon shall I approach
My illustrious lady,
To take her to him.
To none would I yield
That honor so rare.
BRANGANE
Lord Tristan,
Please hear me:
This is my lady's will —
That you go to her
Now, where she awaits you.
TRISTAN
Wherever I am,
I am truly the servant
Of that pinnacle of womanhood.
But should I leave the helm,
How could I steer the ship
Safely to King Marke's land?
BRANGANE
Tristan, my Lord,
Why do you mock me?
If the dull maid
Seems not to speak plainly,
Hearken to my lady's words:
Thus did she bid me speak —
Say Isolde commands him.
Say Isolde,
His sovereign mistress,
Commands him, her vassal!
KURWENAL
(springing up)
May I make answer?
TRISTAN
What would you then reply?
KURWENAL
This let her say
To Lady Isolde:
He who gives Cornwall's crown
And England's throne
To Ireland's maid,
Cannot be in the thrall
Of that very maid,
The one he's offering as a bride to his uncle:
Lord of the world!
Tristan, our hero!
So I have cried it forth!
Now, you say it thus —
Let a thousand Isoldes
Heap wrath upon me!
(while Tristan seeks to check him by gestures,
Brangane, offended, turns to go away. As she
lingeringly retires, Kurwenal sings after her at
the top of his voice)
"Lord Morold set out on a sea voyage
To take the Cornish tribute;
An atoll amidst the barren seas
Is where he now lies buried;
But his head hangs high
In Erin's land —
As tribute paid by the English.
Hail to our hero Tristan —
He knows just how to pay tribute!"
(Kurwenal, reproved and driven away by Tristan,
descends into the forward cabin, Brangane,
bewildered, returns to Isolde, and draws the curtains.
Meanwhile, the whole troop of retainers are heard
without)
THE MEN
"His head hangs high
In Erin's land —
As tribute paid by the English.
Hail to our hero Tristan,
He knows just how to pay tribute!"
SCENE iii
(The curtains are completely drawn. Isolde rises to her feet
with an expression of desperation and anger. Brangane throws
herself at her feet)
BRANGANE
Ah me! Ah me!
Think of enduring this!
ISOLDE
(suddenly controlling herself as she is
about to give way to a wild outburst)
Well, what of Tristan?
Tell me exactly.
BRANGANE
Ah, do not ask!
ISOLDE
Speak without fear.
BRANGANE
With courtly words
He evaded me.
ISOLDE
But when plainly you bade him come?
BRANGANE
When I'd bidden him
Come straightaway,
Thus he made answer:
I am truly the servant
Of that pinnacle of womanhood.
But should I leave the helm,
How could I steer the ship
Safely to King Marke's land?
ISOLDE
(painfulfy and bitterly)
"How steer the ship
Safely to King Marke's land!"
To pay him the tribute
Extorted from Ireland.
BRANGANE
As I spoke your words.
Just as you told me,
His knave Kurwenal dared —
ISOLDE
I heard him all too well,
No word escaped me.
You who've witnessed
This outrage upon me.
Hear too the cause:
Even as they sing
Their mocking songs of me,
Well could I sing the like;
Sing of a certain skiff.
Small and frail, floating
Once to our Irish shore.
And of a sick man,
Piteous, languid,
Stretched in it dying.
Then with Isolde's art
He became acquainted;
With many a healing salve
And juice of balms,
Faithfully she soothed the wounds
Plaguing him sorely.
"Tantris," in cunning fashion,
So had he named himself;
But soon Isolde
Knew him for Tristan;
For, in the tired one's sword,
She perceived a notch wherein
Fitted a splinter
Which once this hand had found
In the insulted head,
Sent back in scorn,
Of Erin's knight, Morold.
Then, from the depths of my soul
A cry rose up,
And, with the shining sword,
I stood above him,
Purposed to take revenge
On him, the over-bold,
For Morold's death.
But as he looked at me
Up from his bed —
Not on the sword he looked,
Not on my hand.
Into my eyes he looked;
His misery filled me with sorrow —
The sword that slew Morold
Fell from my hands.
His wounds I healed instead,
So that, again grown strong,
Back to his house and home
He might return,
And, with that look of his,
Trouble me no more.
BRANGANE
Amazing! Amazing!
Where were my eyes!
The guest I helped to nurse —
ISOLDE
Hark! how they sing his praise!
"Hurrah, for our Tristan!"
Ah, a fine man to trust!
How many thousand vows
Of fealty eternal
And thanks did he make me!
Now mark how a hero
Keeps to his oath:
He who as "Tantris"
I let go, unwitting,
Boldly as Tristan
Dares to return.
And from the high deck
Of his insolent galley,
Dares ask me in wedlock.
The heiress of Ireland —
For Cornwall's old king;
His worn-out uncle —
Me for King Marke!
Ah, when Morold was living,
Who would have dared
Such an outrage upon us!
A Cornish prince, forsooth,
Paying us tribute,
Suing for Ireland's crown!
Ah, woe is me! —
It was I brought
This shame on my home,
When the avenging sword,
Instead of swinging,
I weakly let fall.
Now must I be the slave
Of my own vassal.
BRANGANE
That day when all rejoiced
And swore an oath of friendship
And reconciliation, to seal the peace —
I might have suspected
That it grieved you.
ISOLDE
O blind eyes,
Dull hearts!
Tame spirit,
Timid silence!
How differently
Tristan boasted
Of that which I concealed.
The one who silently
Saved his life,
Silently shielded him
From his foes,
He betrayed, betrayed
My mute protection,
Along with all I did for him.
Basking in the
Glow of victory,
With a lofty, boisterous, manner
How he sized me up:
"What a catch that would be,
My Lord and uncle!
D'you fancy her for your wife?
I'll fetch you that
Delectable Irish lass.
I know quite well
The way to her keep.
Just say the word, and I'll hop
On over to the land of Erin.
Isolde — she's yours!
A heady exploit beckons!"
I curse you, traitor!
Curses on your head!
Vengeance, and death —
Death to us both!
BRANGANE
(throwing herself upon Isolde with
impassioned tenderness)
O sweet one! O true heart!
Dear, gracious and pure!
My golden mistress!
Dear Isolde!
Hear me! Come
Sit here!
(gradually draws Isolde to the couch)
What a wild fancy!
What groundless anger!
Why so deceive yourself?
Can you not see or hear?
How could Lord Tristan
Repay what he owes you
Better than by bringing you
The lordliest of crowns?
While so he loyally
Serves his uncle,
To you he thus proffers
This envied reward.
So true and so loyal
Is he, he renounces
His heirship, to throw himself
Down at your feet —
Hailing you as queen.
(Isolde turns away)
If he has won King Marke
For you for husband,
Can you berail the choice?
Is he not worthy?
Noble is he of race,
Gentle of mind;
Who has excelled him
In might and in splendor?
Him whom such a hero serves,
Who would not gladly
Taste of his favor,
And bide as his spouse?
ISOLDE
(gazing fixedly before her)
How could I,
Unbeloved,
Always see near me
That glorious hero?
How such a torture
Could I endure?
BRANGANE
What wild words are these!
You unbeloved!
(she approaches Isolde, soothing and caressing her)
Where has there lived a man
Who loved you not?
Who that has ever looked
Upon you, Isolde,
But in enchantment
Fell beneath your charm?
Yet, should it happen
That someone you might choose
Were even so cold;
If some dark magic
Should draw him from you —
1 would know how —
The impious ingrate!
To bind him in chains
Of the might that is love.
(mysteriously and intimately drawing
near to Isolde)
Have you forgotten
Your mother's craft?
Do you imagine that she
Who pondered on all things,
Always so wise,
Would, without preparation,
Have sent me off with you
To foreign lands?
ISOLDE
(gloomily)
You have done well
To recall my wise mother —
Grateful indeed am I
For her strange skill:
Revenge for the betrayer;
Heartsease in time of need.
Bring me the chest yonder.
BRANGANE
Ensconced within it is
That which shall avail you.
(she brings a small golden chest, opens
it, and points to its contents)
In it your mother
Has ranged in fair order
Her mysterious philtres.
Drinks thaumaturgic.
For stings and wounds
She gave us balms
And for each poison,
Each poison's antidote.
(she takes out a little phial)
The finest elixir of all,
I have it here!
ISOLDE
You're wrong; a far better one
I know by this mark I made.
See, here upon it —
This is the drink I need!
(she takes up another phial and shows it)
BRANGANE
(starting back in dismay)
The drink of death!
(Isolde has risen from her couch and now hears,
with increasing dread, the cries of the sailors)
THE CREW
(without)
Ho! heave ho! ho! hey!
Reef the sails
To the yard arms!
Ho! heave ho! ho! hey!
ISOLDE
Too swift has been our voyage!
Woe's me! So near the land!
SCENE iv
(Kurwenal enters blusteringly through the curtain)
KURWENAL
Up, ladies, up!
Blithe and gay,
Quickly array you.
And to Lady Isolde,
My lord, hero Tristan,
Bids me say this:
From the masthead
Flutters our flag of peace
Gallantly landward;
To the hold of King Marke
It tells of our coming.
Therefore, he prays
The Lady Isolde
To hasten prepare herself,
Ready for landing,
That he may attend her.
ISOLDE
(after at first shrinking back in dread at
the message, calmly and with dignity)
Take to Lord Tristan
My greeting, and tell him
That to go by his side
To King Marke were unseemly,
Unbecoming, ungentle,
Until he has wrought me
Atonement for guilt
That is yet unatoned:
For that bid him seek my grace.
(Kurwenal makes a gesture of defiance)
Now, mark well what I say,
And deliver it truly;
I will not prepare myself
To go on land with him,
Nor go by his side
To the throne of King Marke;
Till, as is fitting,
He sues my forgiveness,
My gracious forgetting,
For his unatoned wrong:
Only that way can he
Win back my favor.
KURWENAL
Be assured,
I will say it all;
Now await how he hears it.
(he exits quickly)
ISOLDE
(hurries to Brangane and embraces
her vehemently)
Now farewell, Brangane!
Greet every one for me —
Greet my father and mother!
BRANGANE
What is this!
O, what do you mean?
Would you flee?
Whither then must I follow?
ISOLDE
(checking herself suddenly)
Did you not hear me?
Here I remain,
Tristan awaiting.
Now faithfully follow
What I command you;
Quickly prepare the drink
Of expiation
Which, you remember,
I showed you.
BRANGANE
What drink?
ISOLDE
(taking a flask from the chest)
This drink it is.
Into the golden cup
Pour it all out;
The cup will hold all —
BRANGANE
(filled with horror, taking the flask)
O, can I trust my senses!
ISOLDE
Mind you are faithful!
BRANGANE
The draught — for whom is it?
ISOLDE
For him who betrayed me.
BRANGANE
Tristan?
ISOLDE
He shall drink his atonement!
BRANGANE
(throwing herself at Isolde's feet)
Horror! Have pity on me,
Poor wretch that I am.
ISOLDE
(passionately)
It's you who should have pity on me,
Faithless maid!
Have you forgotten
My mother's craft?
Do you imagine that she
Who pondered on all things,
Always so wise,
Would, without preparation,
Have sent me off with you
To foreign lands?
For stings and wounds
She gave us balms
And for each poison,
Each poison's antidote;
For the deepest pain,
For the most extreme suffering,
She provided the death-drink.
May Death now thank her!
BRANGANE
(scarcely able to control herself)
O deepest pain!
ISOLDE
Wilt you obey me?
BRANGANE
O most extreme suffering!
ISOLDE
Can I rely on you?
BRANGANE
The draught?
KURWENAL
(entering)
Sir Tristan!
(Brangane rises terror-stricken and dazed. Isolde
makes a supreme effort to control herself)
ISOLDE
(to Kurwenal)
Sir Tristan may approach.
SCENE v
(Kurwenal withdraws. Brangane, with difficulty mastering
herself, retires to the background. Isolde, summoning all her
power of will, walks slowly, with lofty mien, back to the
couch and, supporting herself by its head, fixes her eyes
upon the entrance. — Tristan enters and stands respectfully
at the entrance before her)
TRISTAN
Lady, demand
What you will.
ISOLDE
Do you not well know
What my wish is?
'Twas fear to fulfill it
That kept you afar
From my eyes?
TRISTAN
Reverence for you
Held me back.
ISOLDE
All the less honor
You showed me,
With open scorn failing to obey me.
TRISTAN
Obedience alone
Kept me away.
ISOLDE
Methinks, little thanks
Then I owe
To your lord, if his service
Encourages manners
So ill-bred
Towards his own bride.
TRISTAN
In the lands where I've lived,
Custom dictates
That he who brings home
The bride to the bridegroom
Should, on the journey,
Keep far from the bride.
ISOLDE
For what reason?
TRISTAN
Of that, the custom tells us nothing.
ISOLDE
Since, my Lord Tristan,
You're so heedful of custom,
Of this good custom
Be reminded:
To your foe make atonement,
If you want that foe to call you friend.
TRISTAN
And what foe?
ISOLDE
Of that, your own fear can tell you much!
A debt, to be paid in blood,
Hangs over our heads.
TRISTAN
Pardon for past deeds was agreed.
ISOLDE
Not between us.
TRISTAN
On the open field,
Before all people,
The oath that ends
Revenge was sworn.
ISOLDE
'Twas not there
That I hid Tantris,
That Tristan was at my mercy.
Lordly he stood there,
Haughty and hale,
Yet what he swore to
I did not swear;
I had learned silence
In that hushed chamber
Where sick he lay.
As, mute before him,
I stood with the sword,
Silent was my mouth,
Powerless my hand;
Yet what my hand and mouth
Erstwhile had promised,
Silently, I swore to do —
And now my word I'll keep.
TRISTAN
What did you swear, Lady?
ISOLDE
(quickly)
Vengeance for Morold!
TRISTAN
Does that prey on you still?
ISOLDE
(quickly)
Do you dare scorn me thus?
My own betrothed was he,
That hero of Erin;
His sword I'd blessed for him,
For me only he drew it.
When he fell,
My honor fell too.
And in my weary heart
I made this vow:
If no man were to avenge him,
I, a mere maiden,
Would dare to avenge.
Why, when all weak and languid
you were in my power,
Did I not slay you —
That, your nimble wit
Should easily deduce.
Your wounds I tended,
Hoping that some man might win Isolde
From you, and, avenging,
Smite you, once more hale and sound.
Now, your own future
You can foretell yourself.
For, since all mankind
Seems in compact with him,
Who shall lay low then
This haughty Sir Tristan?
TRISTAN
(pale and sad)
Was Morold so dear to you?
Then take again this sword,
And this time hold it tightly,
That it might not slip from your grasp.
(he holds out his sword to her)
ISOLDE
What a great disservice
I'd be doing your master
If I were to kill
His most faithful, valuable retainer,
The very one to whom he owes
His kingdom and his crown.
Whatever would King Marke say?
Do you consider the things
You've won for him so trivial —
The prized treaty of peace,
The hand of this Irish
Maid in marriage?
How could he fail
To take me to task
For doing in such a loyal servant?
No, keep your sword!
Though I once swung it,
When I was struggling to master
The urge for vengeance;
When your measuring gaze
Stole my image,
Pondering whether I might be
A fit spouse for King Marke;
Then 'twas that I lowered the sword.
Now let us drink to reconciliation!
(she beckons Brangane, who totters and hesitates
in her movements. Isolde urges her with impetuous
gestures. Brangane sets about preparing the drink.)
THE CREW
(without)
Ho! heave ho! ho! hey!
Reef the sails
To the yard arms!
Hoi heave ho! ho! hey!
TRISTAN
(arousing himself from his gloomy thoughts)
Where are we?
ISOLDE
Quite near to our goal.
Tristan, have I won
Your forgiveness?
What do you have to say?
TRISTAN
(gloomily)
The mistress of silence
Bids me be silent;
I know well what her silence keeps,
But I keep silent what she knows not.
ISOLDE
What your silence means
I know full well,
You would evade me —
Do you deny me still,
Still your forgiveness?
THE CREW
(without)
Ho! heave ho! ho! hey!
(at an impatient sign from Isolde, Brangane
hands her the brimming goblet)
ISOLDE
(walking with the cup towards Tristan, who
gazes immovably into her eyes)
You heard the sailor's song!
It is our journey's end.
In brief moments (with slight scorn) we'll stand before Marke!
Should you present me to him,
You might do worse than
To address him thus:
"My Lord and uncle,
Just take a look at her!
A sweeter woman
You'll never find.
I slew her betrothed,
Cut off his head
And sent it back to her.
She healed the wounds
I suffered at his hands
In the gentlest possible way.
My life was
Hers to take.
She made a gift
Of it to me,
That gentle maid,
And threw into the bargain
Her country's debasement,
So that she might become your spouse.
In gratitude for such
Remarkable generosity,
I quaffed the drink
Of reconciliation
She offered me
And thus wiped clean all sins."
SAILORS
(without)
Up with the tow-line,
Down with the anchor!
TRISTAN
(starting wildly)
Down with the anchor!
Her stern to the tide —
To the winds her masts and sails!
(he snatches the cup impetuously from Isolde)
Ah! do I not know
Ireland's queen,
And all her enchantments,
Her magical powers —
Did not her balsams heal
My wounds?
Now let me drink this cup —
That I, today,
Shall become fully recovered;
Also pay heed
To my oath of atonement,
That I, as thanks to you,
Make with my heart!
Tristan, his honor!
And all Tristan's truth!
And all Tristan's sorrow!
And all Tristan's fight!
And all his illusion,
His dream so foreboding
Of sorrow immortal.
Kindly oblivion —
How gladly I drink you!
(he lifts the cup and drinks)
ISOLDE
Even now you betray me!
No, I must share it!
(she wrests the cup from his hand)
Traitor, I drink to you!
(she drinks, then throws down the goblet. Each,
filled with terror, looks with the greatest excitement,
though rigid in attitude, unwaveringly in the other's
eyes, in the expression of which deadly hatred
soon gives way to glowing love. Trembling overcomes
them; they clutch at their hearts and then press
their hands to their foreheads. They gaze again
at each other, lower their glances, then raise
their eyes to each other with growing longing)
ISOLDE
(wilh trembling voice)
Tristan!
TRISTAN
(overcome)
Isolde!
ISOLDE
(sinking upon his breast)
Faithless beloved!
TRISTAN
Woman divine!
(he embraces her with ardor. They remain in a
silent embrace. Trumpets sound as if at a distance.)
ALL THE MEN
(without)
Hail! Hail!
Hail to King Marke!
Hail to our King!
BRANGANE
(who, with face turned away, has been leaning over
the side of the ship, now turns her eyes — to
see the two lovers locked in each other's arms. She
rushes to the front, wringing her hands in despair)
Woe! Woe!
Sorrow eternal
Instead of brief death!
How foolish the act
Of my fond faithful heart!
(they start from their embrace)
TRISTAN
(bewildered)
What was my troubled dream
Of Tristan's honor?
ISOLDE
What was my troubled dream
Of Isolde's shame?
TRISTAN
Lost are you then to me?
ISOLDE
Have I refused you?
TRISTAN
O wicked enchantment
Of deceiving art!
ISOLDE
Foolish squabbling
And vain commotion!
TRISTAN
Isolde!
ISOLDE
Tristan!
TRISTAN
Sweetest woman!
ISOLDE
Dearest man!
BOTH
O yearnings of love —
All blossom and singing!
O languor of love,
All blessed and burning!
Wild in the heart it sings,
Shouting for joy!
TRISTAN
Isolde,
Isolde, mine!
ISOLDE
Tristan,
Fled beyond the world,
You, Tristan, mine!
BOTH
Aware only of
Love's fathomless bliss.
(The curtains are now drawn wide apart, revealing the whole
ship, filled with knights and sailors, who, with shouts of joy,
look overboard toward the land, where, on a high rock, a
castle is seen. Tristan and Isolde remain lost in each other,
seeing nothing of what is occurring)
BRANGANE
(to the women, who, on her bidding,
come up from below)
Make haste!
The queen's mantle!
(rushing between Tristan and Isolde)
O hapless ones!
Look where we are!
(she places the royal mantle on
Isolde, who does not heed it)
ALL THE MEN
Hail! Hail!
Hail to King Marke!
Hail to our King!
KURWENAL
(coming forward gaily)
Hail to you, Tristan!
Fortunate hero!
See where King Marke,
With retinue royal,
And kingly arrayed,
Comes on yon bark.
Ah! how glad is he
Of the short journey —
Longing, himself, himself
To woo his own bride!
TRISTAN
(looking up in a dazed way)
Who comes?
KURWENAL
The King.
TRISTAN
What king?
(Kurwenal points over the side. Tristan
gazes abstractedly toward the land)
ALL THE MEN
(waving their hats)
Hail to King Marke!
Hail! Hail!
ISOLDE
(distractedly, to Brangane)
What is it, Brangane?
O hearken those cries!
BRANGANE
Isolde, my lady!
Composure —
Today of all days.
ISOLDE
O tell me where I am!
Am I still living?
What was that potion?
BRANGANE
(despairingly)
The love potion.
ISOLDE
(horror-stricken, stares at Tristan)
Tristan!
TRISTAN
Isolde!
ISOLDE
Must I still live?
(throws herself in a swoon upon his breast)
BRANGANE
(to the women)
Attend to your mistress!
TRISTAN
O the bliss born of illusion!
The alloyed joy made out of dreams!
ALL THE MEN
(in a general burst of acclamation)
Hail to King Marke!
To Cornwall, all hail!
(men are seen climbing over the bulwarks: others
lower a bridge; and the demeanor of all indicates
the imminent arrival of those coming from the shore:
whereupon the curtain falls quickly)
ACT II
On the grounds of Marke's royal palace in Cornwall.
(A garden with high trees, before Isolde's chamber, to which
steps lead up, at one side. A clear, balmy, summer night. At the
open door is a burning torch. Sounds of the hunt are heard)
SCENE i
(Brangane, standing on the steps, looks off into the distance
at the receding hunters. Isolde comes forth from her chamber,
eager and excited)
ISOLDE
Do you still hear them?
To me all the sound of the hunters
Seems to have died away.
BRANGANE
(listening)
No, they are near still;
I hear them yonder.
ISOLDE
(listening)
It is but fear
That misleads your ear.
The rustling leaves
The laughing wind
Tosses about
Delude you.
BRANGANE
It's you who are deluded.
The wildness of loving
Makes you hear
Just what you will.
Still I hear horns.
ISOLDE
(listens)
The hunter's horn
Sounds not so sweet.
How could I hear
The murmuring fountain
Gentle with ripples,
How could I hear it,
If horns were still blowing?
In the still night
Its laughter reaches my ear.
Who waits and longs for me
In the still night?
Will you keep him from me,
Longing and waiting,
Because you fancy
That you hear horns?
BRANGANE
Who waits for you?
O hear my warning!
A spy there is who waits
Nightly for him as you do.
Often I see him
Craftily lurking —
Beware of Melot,
Who waits with his net,
Secretly lies in wait for you.
ISOLDE
Sir Melot, you meanest?
O you are quite deceived!
Is he not Tristan's friend?
Must I not see my love,
Because he and Tristan
???Are always together?
BRANGANE
What makes me suspicious
Makes you his friend then?
Through Tristan to Marke
Is Sir Melot's way:
He sows the seed of lies
In King Marke's ear.
'Twas this same seed today
Sown at the council,
Decreed the hunt tonight.
Ah! do you dream
How noble the quarry
They hunt for tonight?
ISOLDE
'Twas but for love of him,
His friend so dear,
Melot, his friend
Planned this device;
Will you still scorn his faith?
More true than you
Is he to me;
And unto him he gives
Aid you refuse!
O spare me this delay!
The signal, Brangane —
O pray give the signal!
Put out the last glimmer
Of torch and of candle.
That night may come down on us;
Beckoning yonder.
Already her silence
Swathes hedge and house;
Already she fills the heart
Full with delight.
O put the light out —
Quench the last fleeing ray.
Let in my loved one!
BRANGANE
Quench not the warning flame!
Of peril it warns you!
Woe! Woe!
Ah, poor me!
O that unholy drink!
I, but unfaithful once,
Merely your servant;
O had I, deaf and blind,
Foolish, obeyed you —
Death had it been to you,
And your dishonour —
Shame and all sorrow —
I, I, confess it.
ISOLDE
Thou, you, then did it!
O foolish girl!
Do you not know
The goddess called — Love?
Of her power knowest nothing?
Of brave spirits the queen.
And ruler of all things;
Death and Life are her servants.
Pleasure and pain,
Weaving all evil
Into all love;
Death's work I dared to do;
The Goddess of Love
Has stolen my power —
The love-and-death-doomed ones
She took as her pledge,
Doing her own work
With her own hand.
Whatsoever her purpose may be,
Whatsoever our end shall be,
Whatever she shall choose for me,
Wherever she leads me,
I am hers wholly,
Slave to her will.
BRANGANE
Must love's delirious draught
Quench reason's light in you?
Canst you not heed
When I would warn you?
Only today, I pray.
Hearken my pleading!
Today, but today,
Put not the torch out.
Danger's bright beacon.
ISOLDE
She who within my heart
Kindles the glow,
She who my bosom fills
With fragrant fire,
She, who as morning,
Laughs in my soul —
The Goddess of Love —
It is her commandment
That it be night —
So, that her light may shine,
Thine be extinguished.
(she goes to the door and takes down the torch)
Go you to the watchtower!
Faithfully watch there —
And, were yon flaming torch
My flame of life,
Laughing, I'd quench it.
(she throws the torch to the ground, where it
gradually dies out. Brangane, distracted, turns
away, to climb, by an outer stairway, up to the
battlements, where she slowly disappears. Isolde
listens and looks, timorously at first, through an
avenue of trees. With increasing longing, she goes
nearer to the trees and looks with more boldness.
She beckons with a kerchief, at first a little only,
then oftener, then with passionate impatience faster
and faster. A sudden gesture of passionate delight
shows that she has perceived her lover in the
distance. She lifts herself higher and higher and,
to gain a farther outlook, hastens back to the
stairway, from the uppermost step of which she
beckons to her approaching lover; and, on his
entrance, springs to meet him)
SCENE ii
TRISTAN
(rushing in)
Isolde! Beloved!
ISOLDE
Tristan! My loved one!
(they embrace passionately, and
come down to the front of the stage)
Are you mine?
TRISTAN
Do I hold you again?
ISOLDE
Can I embrace you?
TRISTAN
Can I believe my eyes?
ISOLDE
At last, at last!
TRISTAN
Here, on my breast.
ISOLDE
Am I really touching you?
TRISTAN
Am I seeing you, you yourself?
ISOLDE
Are these your eyes?
TRISTAN
Is this your mouth?
ISOLDE
And here is your hand?
TRISTAN
And here is your heart?
ISOLDE
Is it I? Is it you?
Are you here in my arms?
TRISTAN
Is it I? Is it you?
Is it no illusion?
BOTH
Is it not a dream?
Ah, love, the spirit's joy!
Sweetest, and greatest,
Bravest, and fairest,
Hallowed delight!
TRISTAN
Where is your equal?
ISOLDE
Too rich!
TRISTAN
And too happy!
ISOLDE
Always!
TRISTAN
Always!
ISOLDE
Unconceived of,
So unknown!
TRISTAN
Joy overflowing;
Lifted to heaven.
ISOLDE
Shouting for joy;
TRISTAN
Delight of delights.
BOTH
Lost in high heaven,
Forgotten the world!
ISOLDE
My Tristan!
TRISTAN
My Isolde!
BOTH
Mine and yours!
Yours only,
Mine only.
One are we two
For ever and ever!
ISOLDE
Far away for so long!
How far away!
TRISTAN
So near and yet so distant.
So distant and yet so near.
ISOLDE
Enemy of my lover,
The distance between us was wicked!
In dawdling languor
Time seemed suspended.
TRISTAN
Distance and closeness —
The starkest contrast!
Cherished closeness,
Dreary distance.
ISOLDE
You in the darkness,
I in the light!
TRISTAN
O but this light!
The light, the light!
O how long it burned!
The sun had gone down.
And all faded the day.
Yet it burned on.
Nor could daylight put out
Its menacing gleam.
Its envious warning
Set at my loved one's door —
That I should come not!
ISOLDE
Yet 'twas your loved one's hand
That put out the light!
What my maid feared to do
Why should I fear!
I in the keeping,
And strong with the might,
Of the Goddess of Love,
Why should I fear the day?
And yet the day,
Driven thus forth,
Took its revenge,
With all your sinning
The daylight took counsel:
What the dusk torch of night
Gave you, you must give back
To the imperial sun,
Back to the royal day —
That I may shimmer there
In desolate splendor!
How did I bear it?
How bear it still?
TRISTAN
O we were dedicate
To this sweet night!
The thievish day,
Jealous of joy,
Planned to divide us!
Yet we no more believe
Its foolish lies.
All its vain pomp.
And flashing splendour,
Its vaunt of brightness.
Are laughter to him
Whom the holy night
Gives her glad eyes.
The fleeting light of day
Can no more blind us.
He whom the night of death
Has lovingly gazed in,
To whom she has whispered
Her mystical secret —
To him the daylight's lies.
Its fame and its honor,
Ambition and power,
Shining so brightly.
Are like the motes
That dance in the sunbeam.
Through all the hollow day,
Only one longing,
Longing for night,
Night, holy night —
When, the eternal,
Primal delight of love
Smiles upon him.
(Tristan draws Isolde gently aside to a bank of flowers falls
on his knee before her, and rests his head upon her arm)
BOTH
O fall, sweet night,
Upon us both.
You night of love;
Give us oblivion.
Make us forget
That we are living.
Ah, take us to your breast!
From the world free us!
The last lights go out!
All the forebodings,
All the false dreams,
Each fearsome thought,
The sacred twilight,
With its sweet breathing,
Hushing the earth to sleep,
Takes all away.
Though we have hid the sun
Deep betwixt our bosoms,
The stars go on shining,
The stars of our love.
Spun, like the planets, round
To your enchantment, —
Night, your soft eyes!
Ah! your heart to my heart.
And my mouth to your mouth!
Only one breath —
My eyes are gone from me.
Blinded with loving you.
And the world fades,
With all its false radiance;
Unafraid of its lies —
For you are my world,
And your world am I;
Weaving the weft of our delight.
Dreaming our holy dreams;
Our pure desire,
From all illusion free.
The sleep that wakes not;
Fearing no more.
(Tristan and Isolde sink, with heads side by
side, in rapture, upon the bank of flowers)
BRANGANE
(unseen, her voice coming as if from the watchtower)
Lonely I watch,
All through the night;
You that are lost
In the dream of your love —
Dream, love, and laughter —
Believe you the lonely one.
Sorrow is coming —
Beware! O beware!
The night will soon have passed.
ISOLDE
Listen, beloved!
TRISTAN
Wilt you not let me die!
ISOLDE
(slowly raising herself)
Jealous watcher!
TRISTAN
(remaining reclined)
I will never awaken!
ISOLDE
But, Tristan, the dawn —
That must arouse you.
TRISTAN
(raising his head slightly)
Let the dawn
Yield to death!
ISOLDE
Day and Death —
Can they together
Win us our love?
TRISTAN
(draws Isolde to him with an expressive gesture)
O, would that we might die,
So, undivided,
Always united,
Forever,
Never awakening,
Never a thought of fear,
Namelessly
Enveloped in love,
Each other's wholly,
We might consecrate our lives to love.
ISOLDE
(gazing up at him, lost in rapture)
Would that we might die,
So, undivided —
TRISTAN
Always united,
Forever —
ISOLDE
Never awakening —
TRISTAN
Never a thought of fear —
BOTH
Namelessly
Enveloped in love,
Each other's wholly,
We might consecrate our lives to love.
(Isolde, overpowered, lets her head
fall upon his breast)
BRANGANE
(from above, as before)
Beware! Beware!
Already the night
Pales before day.
TRISTAN
(bowing laughingly over Isolde)
Shall I go hide?
ISOLDE
Let me go die!
TRISTAN
Shall I awaken?
ISOLDE
Nothing can wake me.
TRISTAN
Shall not the morning
Awaken Tristan?
ISOLDE
Let Day to Death give place.
TRISTAN
Biddest you that I defy
The dawn, with all its threats?
ISOLDE
(with growing passion)
To flee from its falseness.
TRISTAN
Has not the dawn
Startled us sometimes
With radiant warning?
ISOLDE
(rising to her feet with an impetuous gesture)
The night will watch over us!
(Tristan follows her; they embrace in ecstasy)
BOTH
O night so sweet!
O night eternal!
Sacred on high,
Night of our love!
How could the bravest
Bear you go by?
Him upon whom your smile,
Love-night, hath fallen!
How could he dare awake,
Filled with forebodings?
Waken from you!
TRISTAN
How to conceive it?
All this delight of love,
BOTH.
Far from the sun,
Far from the partings,
And all the complainings
That come with the days,
Can we bear losing it?
ISOLDE
Without thinking —
TRISTAN
Gentle longing.
ISOLDE
Without fearing —
TRISTAN
Sweet desire.
Without sighing —
BEIDE
Noble abandon.
ISOLDE
No more repining.
BOTH
Enfolded by night —
TRISTAN
Concealment no more!
BOTH
Partings no more!
Only our love and trust!
Only our home in space
Infinite — full of dreams!
TRISTAN
You are Tristan.
I, Isolde;
Tristan no more.
ISOLDE
Isolde you are.
Tristan, I;
Isolde no more.
BOTH.
We have names nevermore:
One name forever —
Nevermore parted.
Sharing the newness
Of all our new wisdom.
Sharing the fire
Of love ever new.
Forever, together,
One heart and one soul —
O all the burning joy
Of Love's glowing breast!
SCENE iii
(Brangane utters a cry. Tristan and Isolde remain in their
attitude of rapture. Kurwenal rushes in, with unsheathed sword)
KURWENAL
Save yourself, Tristan !
(he looks with terror behind him
toward the background, where
Marke, Melot, and courtiers, in
hunting costume, are seen
approaching gaily through the
avenue of trees; they pause in
astonishment before the lovers.
At the same time Brangane
descends from the watchtower on
the battlements and rushes toward
Isolde, who, with involuntary
shame, turning away her face,
supports herself upon the flowery bank. Tristan,
in like involuntary agitation, with one
hand extends his mantle so as to shield Isolde
from the eyes of the newcomers. He continues
in this attitude a long time, immovable, directing
a firm gaze upon the hunters, who gaze at him
with varying expressions of emotion. Dawn
glimmers)
TRISTAN
The desolate day!
It dawns for the last time.
MELOT
(to Marke)
Tell me, my king.
Was not my accusation just?
Tell me if I have saved
This, my head, which I pledged you as pawn;
Promising that you should see
Him in the act.
Your honor and fame
I've saved from dishonor,
Saved you from shame.
MARKE
(after profound agitation, with quavering voice)
Have you really done so?
Is it not a wild fancy?
Look at him yonder,
Truest of all men.
Look at him yonder,
Friend of all friends!
And yet this friend so true
Has stricken my heart,
False as my bitterest foe.
Has Tristan deceived me?
If so, what hope have I
That Melot is true.
That Melot's wise speeches
Shall save me the honor
His lies stole from me!
TRISTAN
(with vehemence)
False phantoms of morning,
Dreams of the dawn,
Illusions all empty,
Dissolve in the sky!
MARKE
(deeply moved)
This from you, Tristan!
Tristan — to me!
Where has truth fled away,
If Tristan is false?
Where look for honor,
Or the true breed of men,
If Tristan, all hoarded-up honor,
Has thrown it away?
And virtue, who Tristan chose
For her own buckler,
Where has she fled?
Now that she has left my friend,
Now that Tristan betrays me!
(Tristan lowers his eyes and, as Marke continues,
shows more and more dejection in his mien)
To what end
All your deeds
Done for my glory.
Grandeur and power.
Done for me, Marke?
Must all this service done,
Glory and fame and power,
Be paid back by Marke's shame?
Seemed the reward so small,
Fame and a realm,
That you did win.
The heirship he gave you.
The realm for your own!
When he, a childless man,
Saw his wife die,
He loved you so
That never again
Did he dream of a wife.
When all the folk,
Courtiers and peasants,
Glamoured, with prayer and threat,
A queen for his realm,
A spouse for his choice;
When you yourself
Did implore your uncle
To graciously grant
The will of the court,
And the will of the folk.
Firm against courtiers,
Firm against peasants,
Firm against you,
He, with all gentle craft,
Refused, until you,
Tristan, threatened
To leave court and kingdom,
If you were not sent
To win him a bride;
That he allowed you to do.
This charmed woman
Your valor won me.
Who could look on her,
Who could speak to her,
Who could call her his,
What should he be
But all pride and blessing!
Her whom I drew not near
Because of my worship,
Because of the fear
That was reverence of her —
Her so exalted,
All glory and goodness,
Her that should quicken
The old life in me —
Queenliest bride —
Her you did bring me,
Fearless of every foe.
Why must I live in hell,
Hopeless of heaven?
Why must I bear this shame,
Unhelped even of tears?
Who this inscrutable,
Fathomless mystery,
Who shall make clear?
TRISTAN
(raising his eyes compassionately)
O my king!
Ask me not to tell
That which you ask me —
That you can never know.
(he turns toward Isolde, who has raised
her eyes to him with ardent longing)
Whither Tristan is going now
Will you, Isolde,
Go with him too?
The land that Tristan means
Knows not the light of the sun.
It is that mystic land
Of darksome night,
From whence my mother bore me —
When me, to whom death gave her,
Dying, she left behind —
First saw the light
Where, when she bore me,
Was Love's mountain-top,
The dream-land of night,
From which I once woke,
There Tristan calls you.
Thither he goes before —
Now, let Isolde say,
If, brave and true,
She dares to follow.
ISOLDE
When you, long time ago
To a strange land,
Traitor and friend —
Yet true and kind —
Asked Isolde to voyage,
Did she not go?
Now, when you invite her
To your own kingdom,
Do you think that I shall fear
That land of all lands
Which bridges the worlds?
Wherever Tristan is,
His house and home,
There will Isolde lodge.
Him whom she follows,
Loyal and gentle,
Let him now show the way
Unto Isolde!
(Tristan bends oner her and kisses her tenderly
upon the forehead, Melot rushes up in fury)
MELOT
(drawing his sword)
Traitor!
Avenge yourself, my king!
Will you suffer this disgrace?
TRISTAN
(drawing his sword and turning quickly round)
Who stakes his life against mine?
(he fixes his gaze upon Melot)
Why, he was once my friend!
Often he told me
How he did love me —
How near his heart
Was my honor and fame!
'Twas he filled my heart with pride,
And urged me, Isolde,
More honor to gain,
By your wedding the king!
Isolde, thine eyes
Dazzled him also;
Jealous — that made him false
To me, as I to the king.
(he advances on Melot)
Melot! on guard!
(as Melot extends his sword toward Tristan, Tristan
drops his own sword and he sinks, wounded, into the
arms of Kurwenal. Isolde throws herself upon his breast.
Marke holds Melot back. The curtain falls quickly)
ACT III
Tristan's manor in Brittany.
(The garden of a castle. On one side the towering battlements, on the other, a low wall,
breast-high, broken by a watchtower; in the background the castle gate. The situation is
on a rocky headland and, through the spaces between the buildings, a wide expanse of sea is
visible; the general aspect is that of a place half-deserted, ill cared for, here and there
in ruins, which grass and ivy have overgrown)
SCENE i
(In the foreground, within the low wall, under the shadow of
a lofty linden, lies Tristan, stretched out in sleep, as if lifeless,
upon a couch. At his head sits Kurwenal, bending sadly over
him, and anxiously listening to his breathing. The sound of a
shepherd's pipe is heard without the wall, over which presently
the shepherd leans with an air of interest and inquiry)
SHEPHERD
Kurwenal!
Kurwenal!
Tell me, my friend,
Has he not yet awakened?
KURWENAL
(turns toward the shepherd
and shakes his head sadly)
Ah! if he woke,
It would only be to leave us;
Forever to go;
Unless the healer,
She, the enchantress,
All charms and simples,
Would give us her aid!
Is there no ship
Yonder, yet on the sea?
SHEPHERD
Ah! quite another tune
You would then hear!
The lustiest song
That joy ever made!
But, tell me truly,
What is the sorrow,
Old friend, of our lord?
KURWENAL
Ask not that question, —
That you can never know.
Watch the sea,
And when you see a ship
Strike up a merry tune!
SHEPHERD
(turning round and scanning the sea,
his hand shading his eyes)
The sea is waste and drear.
(he puts his reed to his mouth, and
goes away piping)
TRISTAN
(motionless — speaking faintly)
What is that ancient glee,
That old song that waked me?
(opens his eyes, and slightly turns his head)
Where am I?
KURWENAL
(starting up in joyous agitation)
Ha! is it your voice?
Can it be Tristan,
My hero and lord?
TRISTAN
(with effort)
Who is it calls me?
KURWENAL
Life calls you at last —
Life, life, O sweet life!
Given to Tristan,
All springtime at last.
TRISTAN
(faintly)
Is it you, Kurwenal?
Where was I?
Where am I?
KURWENAL
Where are you?
In peace and all quiet.
Tranquil and safe —
Kareol, lord!
Do you not know
The home of your fathers?
TRISTAN
My fathers?
KURWENAL
Look but around you!
TRISTAN
What sound roused me?
KURWENAL
The pipe of the shepherd —
Do you not hear it still?
Yonder upon the mountain,
— He tends your flocks.
TRISTAN
My flocks?
KURWENAL
Indeed, my lord!
Your hearth and home,
Courtyard and towers,
Your faithful retainers
Have guarded for you,
Their trusted lord,
As best they were able —
Which, when he went away,
And sailed to a far land,
He on his people freely bestowed.
TRISTAN
What was the land?
KURWENAL
Why, it was Cornwall,
Whence all there was of joy
And fortune and glory,
Tristan, so brave and bright,
Took for himself.
TRISTAN
Am I in Cornwall?
KURWENAL
No, in Kareol, rather.
TRISTAN
How did I come here?
KURWENAL
Heigho! how came you here?
What steed did you ride?
'Twas no horse that carried you.
Only a little ship —
And 'twas on my shoulders —
Broad enough shoulders —
You landed — on land,
Stood on the shore,
Once more at home,
On your own ground,
Pleasaunce and pasture,
And the old well-known sun —
Where and by which
All your wounds shall be healed.
(he presses himself caressingly against Tristan's shoulder)
TRISTAN
Do you think so?
I know 'tis a lie —
Let it seem so to you!
When I awakened
Truly I know not
Where I had lodging!
Or where I lodged
How can I tell you!
The sun shone not there
In the land I abode in.
The green earth I saw not,
Nor any people;
Yet what I did see
How can I tell you!
Where I have always been,
Whither I go forever,
To that eternal realm
Of lasting sleep
There the one yought I had —
Forgetfulness ever.
Always oblivion.
How gone away from me
All boding dreams!
An impulse, a longing —
Shall I so call it? —
Into the light of day
Drove me again.
That which alone was left,
Love's golden fire,
Drove me away
From Death's strange embrace —
And now into the light once more
Drives me, Isolde.
O you deceiving day,
So bright and so golden,
That shines on Isolde;
O you ill-omened day,
Will your gleam always
Awaken my fair?
O will it always burn,
This torch of day
That keeps us apart?
Ah! Isolde!
My sweet one, all gracious,
All treasure!
Ah! when, at last!
Ah! when! Ah! when!
Will you blow out
That flickering gleam
That our joy may enkindle?
The light, how late it shines!
When will the house go sleep?
(his voice more and more weary, he sinks back,
exhausted)
KURWENAL
(who has been trembling with emotion, arises)
Her whom I once defied.
Through truth to you,
For her I long as you —
Take you my word.
Her shalt you see,
Here and today!
This solace I can give you —
If she but dwells still among the living.
TRISTAN
(very faintly)
The light has not yet paled.
Nor is the house yet dark:
Isolde lives and waits for me.
She calls me through the night.
KURWENAL
If she in fact lives
Then let hope smile on you —
If poor dull-pated Kurwenal
Has seemed of little worth,
Today you can not gird him.
Still as the dead
Have you lain,
Since that day, when Melot —
Melot, accursed —
Dealt you that blow;
Ah, that foul blow!
Ah, how to heal it!
Then, fool that I am,
There came this thought to me:
She who once bound
The wounds Morold made,
Could easily treat those from Melot's sword.
That best of healers,
I soon found her.
And unto Cornwall
A trusty servant
Sails over the sea
To bring you — Isolde.
TRISTAN
(beside himself)
Isolde is coming!
Isolde is near!
(he struggles for words)
O friendship, high and pure,
O loyal, faithful friend!
(draws Kurwenal to him and embraces him)
My Kurwenal!
My friend, my friend!
Ah, how can Tristan thank you!
My shield and my shelter!
In all my battles,
My joy and my sorrow.
You always by me!
Those whom I hate
You hate too;
Those whom I love
You love also.
When kind King Marke
I loyally served,
You too were true to him,
True as fine gold;
When I was false to him,
You were false too;
You have forgotten yourself
For my sake.
And, when I suffer,
You suffer also;
But what I suffer
How can you know?
O, all this aching
That burns up my heart,
This devouring longing;
Were I to tell it you,
Could you once know it,
You would not tarry here.
No! you would hasten
Up to the watchtower
To gaze over the sea,
With all your strained senses,
Longingly looking
Where the sails of her ship
Swell on the breeze;
Where, far before the winds,
Driven by burning love,
Isolde steers towards me.
Why see! it is coming —
Nearer and nearer.
As swift as her heart.
And see how the flags wave
There on the mast!
Her ship! her ship!
At last on the beach
It grinds —
Can you not see it?
Kurwenal, can you not see?
(while Kurwenal, unwitting to leave Tristan,
hesitates and lingers, and Tristan looks toward
him with mute intentness, there is heard, as at
first, the plaintive piping of the shepherd)
KURWENAL
(dejectedly)
Still there is no ship in sight.
TRISTAN
(who has been listening with waning agitation;
now, again, with growing melancholy)
Ah! ancient melody,
Was that your meaning?
All sighs and sorrow;
Sadly enough it sounded to me
What time it told me
My father was dead!
Yet far more woeful
When in the grey of dawn
I heard that she
Who gave me birth,
And he who begat me,
Had died, that I should live,
Giving to me their breath.
Unto them also.
Through all their pain,
Came singing that old song,
All made out of longing,
Which asked long ago,
And still sings and asks me,
What was I born for;
What fate and what fortune?
It is the old refrain.
Once more it tells me
To yearn — and to die.
(he sinks back exhausted)
KURWENAL
(who has been striving in vain to calm
Tristan, cries out in anguish)
Tristan! my master!
O the witchcraft of loving!
The terrible power,
The cruel enchantment,
The tyrant illusion
That we call — love!
Listen to what those fair dreams,
Listen to what love has done,
For him the noblest knight.
Ah! dream so fair —
What hast you done!
Here my true hero lies.
Loved as none else is —
Say, what reward has love
Given him for loving —
Say, what reward
Does love ever give!
(with sobs in his voice)
Are you dead?
Are you still alive?
Or has her witchcraft
Borne you away?
(he listens to Tristan's breathing)
Joy! he still breathes,
Lives still, and softly
Moves his lips!
TRISTAN
(beginning very softly)
The ship!
Is it in sight yet?
KURWENAL
The ship?
It's on the way,
Nearer and nearer
It sails and sails.
And soon it will be here —
TRISTAN
Ah, see Isolde
There on the deck!
See how she smiles,
With the cup in her hand,
The cup of forgiveness!
Can you not see her?
Can you not see her now?
All grace and all goodness,
How like a flower
She floats on the sea!
On the sea-flowers,
The soft flying foam,
And in the billows' arms,
She is coming to me!
O the peace of her smile!
The solace to see her!
The one last draught — it's sleep
Isolde brings me!
Isolde! Isolde!
How lovely you are.
How fair, my Isolde!
How fair, ah I how fair!
But, Kurwenal!
How strange you saw her not!
Hast you no eyes?
Up to the watchtower.
Idiot, unseeing thing.
That which, all shining,
I see so clear,
Mark that you see too!
Do you not hear me?
Up to the watchtower!
Will you not heed me?
The ship, the ship!
Isolde's ship!
Surely you see it!
Her ship — do you see it?
(while Kurwenal, still hesitating, opposes
Tristan, the shepherd's pipe is heard without)
KURWENAL
(springing joyously up)
Joy!
(he rushes to the watchtower and looks out)
The ship!
I see her sailing
Down from the North!
TRISTAN
I knew, and I said it!
Yes! Yes! she lives
And gives me back
My life again!
How could Isolde,
Who is my whole world,
Escape from this world?
KURWENAL
(shouting)
Hurrah! Hurrah!
How bravely she keeps her course!
How the wind fills her sails!
How they swell out!
How she sails — how she flies!
TRISTAN
The pennon? The pennon?
KURWENAL
Flutters from the mast.
TRISTAN
O happiness!
All shining in the sun,
Isolde comes to me.
Do you not see her?
KURWENAL
The ship is hidden
Behind the rocks.
TRISTAN
Behind the rocks?
Is there no danger?
Those angry breakers
Have wrecked many ships;
Who's at the helm?
KURWENAL
A seaman the surest.
TRISTAN
Has he betrayed me?
Is he Melot's ally?
KURWENAL
Trust him, as you would me.
TRISTAN
Trust a traitor as you!
O caitiff!
Can you not see her yet?
KURWENAL
Not yet.
TRISTAN
All lost!
KURWENAL
Bravo!
She is past the bar,
Cleanly past it.
Safely within the river
The ship comes to port.
TRISTAN
(shouting for joy)
Halloo! Kurwenal!
True friend indeed!
All that I have
Is your, is your inheritance!
KURWENAL
Swiftly they come.
TRISTAN
Now can you see her?
Do you see Isolde?
KURWENAL
Yes! it is she;
She waves her hand.
TRISTAN
O hallowed woman!
KURWENAL
The ship is ashore;
Isolde!
With one leap she springs
Lightly to land.
TRISTAN
Down from the watchtower,
Indolent gazer;
Go to the shore,
And help my love to land.
KURWENAL
Fear not — I will bring her.
Trust my strong arms —
But, Tristan, you promise
Stay peacefully here —
(he hastens away)
SCENE ii
TRISTAN
(tossing on his couch in feverish excitement)
O, this sun!
This fair day!
Sun-filled day
Of all bliss!
Blood racing wildly,
Heart shouting for joy!
Condemned to this couch,
How can I endure it?
Up and fly yonder
Where brave hearts
Are beating.
Tristan, the hero,
Exulting in power,
From death
Thus hath torn himself.
(he raises himself erect)
All bleeding and wounded,
I fought once with Morold;
All bleeding and wounded
Isolde I'll greet.
(he tears the bandage from his wound)
Ha, ha! my blood!
Lustily flows it.
(he springs down from his couch
and totters forward)
She who can close my wound
For me forever,
She comes like a hero,
To heal me she comes!
Let the world fade away
With the speed of my joy!
(he staggers toward the middle of the stage)
ISOLDE
(from without)
Tristan! Tristan! Beloved!
TRISTAN
(in terrible excitement)
Hark! I hear the light calling!
Ha! — the torch!
The torch has gone out!
To her! to her!
(Isolde, breathless, rushes in. Tristan, no longer master of
himself, hastens unsteadily toward her. They meet in the
middle of the stage; Isolde folds him in her arms)
ISOLDE
Tristan! Tristan!
TRISTAN
(looking up to Isolde with dying gaze)
Isolde!
(he dies)
ISOLDE
It is I! It is I!
Sweetest friend,
It is I!
O, rise up once more!
O, hear my cry!
Heedest not? — It's Isolde!
It's Isolde that calls you!
Isolde has come
To die with her Tristan.
Are you mute still to me?
An hour!
One short hour
Awaken for me!
Ah! the days never-ending
She lay awake longing
That, but for one hour,
She might waken with you!
Do you cheat your Isolde,
Does Tristan defraud her
Of this, our one fleeting,
Eternal, last joy
Together on earth?
But his wound!
Ah, where is it?
First let me heal it,
That, exalted and happy,
The night we may share.
Not from your wound
Must you die,
Not your wound,
And leave me.
No, for us two together
Must our light of life fade!
How dimmed are his eyes!
Ah! how still is his heart!
Faithless Tristan — could you
Strike Isolde this blow?
Not the fleeting sigh
Of one breath!
Must she now before you
Stand wailing, who all joyous
To wed you, stout-hearted,
Came over the sea?
Too late! too late!
Arrogant man,
Do you punish me thus
With banishment cruel?
Is there no grace
For the guilt of my passion?
May I not speak
Even my sorrow to you?
Only once!
Once again!
Ah, Tristan!
Hist! he wakes!
My beloved —
— Night!
(she sinks unconscious upon Tristan's body)
SCENE iii
(Kurwenal, who had immediately followed Isolde, has
remained at the gate in speechless agitation, with his eyes
intently fixed upon Tristan. From below is now heard a
dull, confused sound of voices and the creaking of
armor. The shepherd climbs over the wall)
SHEPHERD
(in a low voice, hurriedly, turning
toward Kurwenal)
Kurwenal! Hark!
Another ship!
(Kurwenal starts up quickly and looks over the rampart;
meanwhile, the shepherd, standing apart, and trembling
with consternation, gazes on Tristan and Isolde)
KURWENAL
Death and Hell!
(in a burst of anger)
Have everything to hand!
Marke and Melot
Have I caught sight of.
Weapons and stones?
Help me! To the gate!
(he and the shepherd rush to the gate,
which they try to shut)
THE STEERSMAN
(rushing in)
Marke is upon us
With troops and attendants;
Defense is futile!
We are overpowered.
KURWENAL
Stand to and help!
As long as I live
No one steals in here!
BRANGANE
(without, calling from below)
Isolde! My lady!
KURWENAL
Brangane's voice!
(calling down)
What seek you here?
BRANGANE
Don't close the gate, Kurwenal!
Where is Isolde?
KURWENAL
You too, traitress!
Woe to you, accursed one!
MELOT
(without)
Back, you fool!
Bar not the way!
KURWENAL
(laughing savagely)
Ha! Ha! here's to the day
That I at last meet you!
(Melot, with men-at-arms, appears before the
gate. Kurwenal rushes upon him, and strikes
him to the ground)
Die, infamous wretch!
MELOT
Woe's me! — Tristan!
(he dies)
BRANGANE
(still without the wall)
Kurwenal! madman!
O hear, you are deluded!
KURWENAL
Faithless maid!
(to his men)
Up! follow me!
Throw them back!
(they fight)
MARKE
(without)
Hold, madman!
Have you lost your senses?
KURWENAL
Here death only rages!
Nothing else, O king,
Is here to be had!
Would you choose it — then come!
(he sets upon Marke and his followers)
MARKE
Back, deluded fool!
BRANGANE
(has climbed over the wall at side and
hastens to the front)
Isolde! my mistress!
Joy to you, and safety!
Ah! what do I see?
Art you living? Isolde!
(she moves in anguish about Isolde)
MARKE
(who, with his followers, has driven back Kurwenal
and his men from the gate, and forced his way in)
O deceit and delusion!
Tristan, where are you?
KURWENAL
(fatally wounded, staggers to the front,
before Marke)
Here he lies — here —
Here where I lie —
(he sinks down at Tristan's feet)
MARKE
Tristan! Tristan!
Isolde! Woe!
KURWENAL
(reaching toward Tristan's hand)
Tristan! dear heart!
Blame me not
That I, faithful — go with you!
(he dies)
MARKE
Dead then all!
All dead?
My hero! my Tristan!
Dearest friend!
Yet must you again today
Betray your friend!
Even today when he comes
With new pledge of his faith.
Awake! awake!
Awake to the cry of my grief,
Unfaithful, most faithful friend!
(he bends sobbing over the bodies)
BRANGANE
(who has revived Isolde in her arms)
She wakes! she lives!
Isolde, hear!
Hear me, sweetest of ladies!
Happy news
Have I for you!
Will you not trust your Brangane?
Her witless guilt
She has atoned.
When you had gone
Quickly she found the king;
Scarce learned he the secret
Of the magical potion
Than, all anguish and haste,
He stood off to sea,
To catch up with you,
To renounce you,
And conduct you to your friend.
MARKE
Why, Isolde,
All this woe for me?
For, when clearly unveiled,
What before I could not know,
What joy 'twas to find
My friend free from all stain!
To this hero to wed you,
This man pure and sacred,
With winged sails
I flew after you:
But misfortune,
Mad fury,
Overtakes all too swiftly
The bringer of peace!
Death's harvest I increased:
Delusion made more woe.
BRANGANE
Do you not hear us?
Isolde! Dear one!
I, your faithful servant, am here!
ISOLDE
(hitherto unconscious of what has been taking place
around her, fixes her gaze upon the body of Tristan,
transported with an ever-increasing ecstasy)
O how gently
He is smiling.
See his eyelids
Open softly.
See how brightly
He is shining!
See, friends —
O, don't you see?
Mark you how he
Rises radiant,
Lifts himself,
All clothed in starlight!
See, friends —
O, don't you see?
How his mighty heart
Is swelling,
Calm and happy,
In his breast!
From his lips
How sweet an incense
Softly breathes!
O hearken, friends —
Hear ye nothing,
Feel ye nought!
It is I alone
That listen
To this music
Strangely gentle,
Love-persuading,
Saying all things;
To this music
Emanating from him,
Through me like
A trumpet thrilling,
Round me like
An ocean surging,
Over me like
An ocean flowing!
Are these waves
About me breezes?
Are these scents
Fragrant billows?
How they gleam
And sing about me.
Shall I breathe,
O shall I listen?
Shall I drink,
O shall I dive
Deep beneath them —
Breathe my last?
In the billows,
In the music,
In the world's
Great whirlwind — lost;
Sinking,
Drowning,
Dreamless,
Blest.
(Isolde, as if glorified by her ecstasy, sinks gently
down, supported by Brangane, upon the body of
Tristan. Great emotion and grief among the
bystanders. Marke extends his hands in blessing
over the dead)
(The curtain falls slowly)