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diff --git a/16250-h/16250-h.htm b/16250-h/16250-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd40d6d --- /dev/null +++ b/16250-h/16250-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2866 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st March 2004), see www.w3.org" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tristan and Isolda, by Richard Wagner.</title> +<style type="text/css"> + + /*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- + + div.page + { + text-align: center; + margin: 15% 15% 15% 15%; + } + + table.dramatis + { + border: 0px; + width: 80%; + text-align: left; + margin: auto; + } + + td.dp_tit + { + text-align: center; + } + + span.indent + { + padding-left: 1em; + } + + + td.c_head + { + text-align: left; + vertical-align: top; + } + + + td.c_note + { + text-align: right; + font-size: 10pt; + width: 40%; + } + + hr + { + height: 2px; + color: black; + background-color: black; + width: 80%; + } + + .center { + text-align: center; + } + div.poetry_narrow + { + text-align: left; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 35%; + margin-top: 2%; + margin-bottom: 2%; + } + + div.poetry + { + text-align: left; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 5%; + margin-top: 2%; + margin-bottom: 2%; + } + + div.ln + { + margin: 0px; + text-indent: -1em; + } + + div.tail_r + { + padding-left: 12em; + } + + div.tail_m + { + padding-left: 7em; + text-indent: -1em; + } + + div.tail_m div + { + padding-left: 7em; + } + + div.spacer + { + margin-left: 20%; + margin-top: 2%; + margin-bottom: 2%; + } + + p.spacer + { + text-align: center; + } + + p + { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 0%; + text-align: justify; + } + + img + { + border: none; + } + + blockquote + { + margin: 1em; + } + div.trans-note { + border-style : solid; border-width : 1px; + margin : 3em 15%; padding : 1em; text-align : center; + } + --> + /*]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tristan and Isolda, by Richard Wagner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Tristan and Isolda + Opera in Three Acts + +Author: Richard Wagner + +Release Date: July 8, 2005 [EBook #16250] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRISTAN AND ISOLDA *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Michel Boto and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<!-- BEGINNING OF TEXT --> +<div class="trans-note"> +Transcriber's note: The German text is not included in this eBook. +The music can be clicked on to view larger images. +</div> +<div class="page"> +<h4>GRAND OPERA LIBRETTOS</h4> +<h4>GERMAN AND ENGLISH TEXT AND MUSIC OF THE LEADING MOTIVES</h4> +<h2>TRISTAN UND ISOLDE</h2> +<h4>(TRISTAN AND ISOLDA)</h4> +<h6>BY</h6> +<h4>WAGNER</h4> +<h6>OLIVER DITSON COMPANY</h6> +<h6>BOSTON</h6> +<h6>CHAS. H. DITSON & CO</h6> +<h6><i>New York</i></h6> +<h6>LYON & HEALY</h6> +<h6><i>Chicago</i></h6> +<hr /> +<div class="center"> +<img src="images/title.png" width="600" alt="title page" /> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>TRISTAN AND ISOLDA</h2> +<h4><i>OPERA IN THREE ACTS</i></h4> +<h6>BY</h6> +<h4>RICHARD WAGNER</h4> +<h6>BOSTON</h6> +<h6>OLIVER DITSON COMPANY</h6> +<h6>CHAS. H. DITSON & CO.</h6> +<h6>NEW YORK</h6> +<h6>LYON & HEALY</h6> +<h6>CHICAGO</h6> +<hr /> +<h4>THE STORY OF "TRISTAN AND ISOLDA"</h4> +<p class="center">ACT I</p> +<p>Tristan, a valiant Cornish knight, is bringing Isolda, princess +of Ireland, over as a bride for his uncle, King Mark. He is himself +in love with her, but owing to a blood feud between them, forces +himself to conceal his passion. Isolda, in anger at his seeming +unkindness, attempts to poison herself and him, but her attendant, +Brangæna, changes the draft for a love potion, which enflames +their passion beyond power of restraint.</p> +<p class="center">ACT II</p> +<p>Isolda has been wedded to King Mark, but holds stolen interviews +with Tristan, during one of which they are surprised, for Tristan +has been betrayed by a jealous friend, Melot. Touched by King +Mark's bitter reproaches, Tristan provokes Melot to fight and +suffers himself to be mortally wounded.</p> +<p class="center">ACT III</p> +<p>Tristan's faithful servant, Kurvenal, has carried his wounded +master to his native home in Brittany, where he is carefully +tended. Isolda has also been sent for, as being skilled above all +others in the healing art. The excitement of her approach only +hastens Tristan's death, and he breathes his last sigh in her arms. +Mark has followed Isolda; he has had matters explained, and is +prepared to reunite the lovers, but it is too late. Isolda utters +her lament over the body of her lover, and her heart breaks: in +death alone are they united.</p> +<hr /> +<br /> +<table class="dramatis" summary="actors"> +<tr> +<td class="dp_tit" colspan="3"><b>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</b></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="dp_td">TRISTAN</td><td width="50%"> </td><td class="dp_td">MELOT</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="dp_td">KING MARK</td><td> </td><td class="dp_td">BRANGÆNA</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="dp_td">ISOLDA</td><td> </td><td class="dp_td">A SHEPHERD</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="dp_td">KURVENAL</td><td> </td><td class="dp_td">A STEERSMAN</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="dp_td" colspan="3" align="center">SAILORS, KNIGHTS, AND ESQUIRES</td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr /> +<h2>TRISTAN AND ISOLDA.</h2> +<h3>ACT I.</h3> +<p>[<i>A pavilion erected on the deck of a ship, richly hung with +tapestry, quite closed in at back at first. A narrow hatchway at +one side leads below into the cabin</i>.]</p> +<h4>SCENE I.</h4> +<p>ISOLDA <i>on a couch, her face buried in the cushions.— +</i>BRANGÆNA <i>holding open a curtain, looks over the side +of the vessel</i>.</p> +<p>THE VOICE OF A YOUNG SAILOR (<i>from above as if at the +mast-head</i>).</p> +<div class="center"> +<a href="images/music0007.png"><img src="images/music0007_t.png" alt= +"sheet music" /></a> +</div> +<p> </p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>starting up suddenly</i>).<br /> +What wight dares insult me?</p> +<p>(<i>She looks round in agitation</i>.)</p> +<p>Brangæna, ho!<br /> +Say, where sail we?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>at the opening</i>).<br /> +Bluish stripes<br /> +are stretching along the west:<br /> +swiftly sails<br /> +the ship to shore;<br /> +if restful the sea by eve<br /> +we shall readily set foot on land.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. What land?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Cornwall's verdant strand.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Never more!<br /> +To-day nor to-morrow!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. What mean you, mistress? say!</p> +<p>(<i>She lets the curtain fall and hastens to</i> ISOLDA.)</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>with wild gaze</i>).<br /> +O fainthearted child,<br /> +false to thy fathers!<br /> +Ah, where, mother,<br /> +hast given thy might<br /> +that commands the wave and the tempest?<br /> +O subtle art<br /> +of sorcery,<br /> +for mere leech-craft followed too long!<br /> +Awake in me once more,<br /> +power of will!<br /> +Arise from thy hiding<br /> +within my breast!<br /> +Hark to my bidding,<br /> +fluttering breezes!<br /> +Arise and storm<br /> +in boisterous strife!<br /> +With furious rage<br /> +and hurricane's hurdle<br /> +waken the sea<br /> +from slumbering calm;<br /> +rouse up the deep<br /> +to its devilish deeds!<br /> +Shew it the prey<br /> +which gladly I proffer!<br /> +Let it shatter this too daring ship<br /> +and enshrine in ocean each shred!<br /> +And woe to the lives!<br /> +Their wavering death-sighs<br /> +I leave to ye, winds, as your lot.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>in extreme alarm and concern for</i> +ISOLDA).<br /> +Out, alas!<br /> +Ah, woe!<br /> +I've ever dreaded some ill!—<br /> +Isolda! mistress!<br /> +Heart of mine!<br /> +What secret dost thou hide?<br /> +Without a tear<br /> +thou'st quitted thy father and mother,<br /> +and scarce a word<br /> +of farewell to friends thou gavest;<br /> +leaving home thou stood'st,<br /> +how cold and still!<br /> +pale and speechless<br /> +on the way,<br /> +food rejecting,<br /> +reft of sleep,<br /> +stern and wretched,<br /> +wild, disturbed;<br /> +how it pains me<br /> +so to see thee!<br /> +Friends no more we seem,<br /> +being thus estranged.<br /> +Make me partner<br /> +in thy pain!<br /> +Tell me freely<br /> +all thy fears!<br /> +Lady, thou hearest,<br /> +sweetest and dearest;<br /> +if for true friend you take me,<br /> +your confidant O make me!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Air! air!<br /> +or my heart will choke!<br /> +Open! open there wide!</p> +<p>(BRANGÆNA <i>hastily draws the centre curtains +apart</i>.)</p> +<h4>SCENE II.</h4> +<p>[<i>The whole length of the ship is now seen, down to the stern, +with the sea and horizon beyond. Round the mainmast sailors are +ensconced, busied with ropes; beyond them in the stern are groups +of knights and attendants, also seated; a little apart stands</i> +TRISTAN <i>folding his arms and thoughtfully gazing out to sea; at +his feet</i> KURVENAL <i>reclines carelessly. From the mast-head +above is once more heard the voice of the young sailor</i>.]</p> +<p>THE YOUNG SAILOR (<i>at the mast-head invisible</i>).<br /> +The wind so wild<br /> +blows homewards now;<br /> +my Irish child,<br /> +where waitest thou?<br /> +Say, must our sails be weighted,<br /> +filled by thy sighs unbated?<br /> +Waft us, wind strong and wild!<br /> +Woe, ah woe for my child!</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>whose eyes have at once sought</i> TRISTAN <i>and +fixed<br /> +stonily on him—gloomily</i>). Once beloved—<br /> +now removed—<br /> +brave and bright,<br /> +coward knight!—<br /> +Death-devoted head!<br /> +Death-devoted heart!—</p> +<p>(<i>laughing unnaturally</i>).</p> +<p>Think'st highly of yon minion?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>following her glance</i>).<br /> +Whom mean'st thou?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. There, that hero<br /> +who from mine eyes<br /> +averts his own:<br /> +in shrinking shame<br /> +my gaze he shuns—<br /> +Say, how hold you him?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Mean you Sir Tristan,<br /> +lady mine?<br /> +Extolled by ev'ry nation,<br /> +his happy country's pride,<br /> +The hero of creation,—<br /> +whose fame so high and wide?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>jeeringly</i>).<br /> +In shrinking trepidation<br /> +his shame he seeks to hide,<br /> +While to the king, his relation,<br /> +he brings the corpse-like bride!—<br /> +Seems it so senseless<br /> +What I say?<br /> +Go ask himself,<br /> +our gracious host,<br /> +dare he approach my side?<br /> +No courteous heed<br /> +or loyal care<br /> +this hero t'wards<br /> +his lady turns;<br /> +but to meet her his heart is daunted,<br /> +this knight so highly vaunted!<br /> +Oh! he wots<br /> +well the cause!<br /> +To the traitor go,<br /> +bearing his lady's will!<br /> +As my servant bound,<br /> +straightway should he approach.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Shall I beseech him<br /> +to attend thee?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Nay, order him:<br /> +pray, understand it:—<br /> +I, Isolda<br /> +do command it!</p> +<p>[<i>At an imperious sign from ISOLDA BRANGÆNA withdraws +and timidly walks along the deck towards the stern, past the +working sailors. ISOLDA, following her with fixed gaze, sinks back +on the couch, where she remains seated during the following, her +eyes still turned sternward</i>.]</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>observing Brangæna's approach, plucks Tristan +by the robe without rising</i>.) Beware, Tristan!<br /> +Message from Isolda!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>starting</i>). What is't?—Isolda?—</p> +<p>(<i>He quickly regains his composure as BRANGÆNA +approaches and curtsies to him</i>.)</p> +<p>What would my lady?<br /> +I her liegeman,<br /> +fain will listen<br /> +while her loyal<br /> +woman tells her will.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. My lord, Sir Tristan,<br /> +Dame Isolda<br /> +would have speech<br /> +with you at once.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Is she with travel worn?<br /> +The end is near:<br /> +nay, ere the set of sun<br /> +sight we the land.<br /> +All that your mistress commands me,<br /> +trust me, I shall mind.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. That you, Sir Tristan,<br /> +go to her,--<br /> +this is my lady's wish.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Where yonder verdant meadows<br /> +in distance dim are mounting,<br /> +waits my sov'reign<br /> +for his mate:<br /> +to lead her to his presence<br /> +I'll wait upon the princess:<br /> +'tis an honor<br /> +all my own.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. My lord, Sir Tristan,<br /> +list to me:<br /> +this one thing<br /> +my lady wills,<br /> +that thou at once attend her,<br /> +there where she waits for thee.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. In any station<br /> +where I stand<br /> +I truly serve but her,<br /> +the pearl of womanhood.<br /> +If I unheeding<br /> +left the helm,<br /> +how might I pilot her ship<br /> +in surety to King Mark?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Tristan, my master,<br /> +why mock me thus?<br /> +Seemeth my saying<br /> +obscure to you?<br /> +list to my lady's words:<br /> +thus, look you, she hath spoken:<br /> +"Go order him,<br /> +and understand it,<br /> +I—Isolda—<br /> +do command it."</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>springing up</i>). May I an answer make her?</p> +<p>TRISTAN. What wouldst thou wish to reply?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. This should she say<br /> +to Dame Isold':<br /> +"Though Cornwall's crown<br /> +and England's isle<br /> +for Ireland's child he chose,<br /> +his own by choice<br /> +she may not be;<br /> +he brings the king his bride.<br /> +A hero-knight<br /> +Tristan is hight!<br /> +I've said, nor care to measure<br /> +your lady's high displeasure."</p> +<p>[<i>While</i> TRISTAN <i>seeks to stop him, and the offended</i> +BRANGÆNA <i>turns to depart</i>, KURVENAL <i>sings after her +at the top of his voice, as she lingeringly withdraws</i>.]</p> +<p>"Sir Morold toiled<br /> +o'er mighty wave<br /> +the Cornish tax to levy;<br /> +In desert isle<br /> +was dug his grave,<br /> +he died of wounds so heavy.<br /> +His head now hangs<br /> +in Irish lands,<br /> +Sole were-gild won<br /> +at English hands.<br /> +Bravo, our brave Tristan!<br /> +Let his tax take who can!"</p> +<p>[KURVENAL, <i>driven away by</i> TRISTAN'S <i>chidings, descends +into the cabin</i>. BRANGÆNA <i>returns in discomposure +to</i> ISOLDA, <i>closing the curtains behind her, while all the +men take up the chorus and are heard without</i>.]</p> +<p>KNIGHTS AND ATTENDANTS.<br /> +"His head now hangs<br /> +in Irish lands,<br /> +sole were-gild won<br /> +at English hands.<br /> +Bravo, our brave Tristan!<br /> +Let his tax take who can!"</p> +<h4>SCENE III.</h4> +<p>[ISOLDA <i>and</i> BRANGÆNA <i>alone, the curtain being +again completely closed</i>. ISOLDA <i>rises with a gesture of +despair and wrath</i>. BRANGÆNA <i>falls at her +feet</i>.]</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Ah! an answer<br /> +so insulting!</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>checking herself on the brink of a fearful +outburst</i>).<br /> +How now? of Tristan?<br /> +I'd know if he denies me.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Ah! question not!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Quick, say without fear!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. With courteous phrase<br /> +he foiled my will.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. But when you bade him hither?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. When I had straightway<br /> +bid him come,<br /> +where'er he stood,<br /> +he said to me,<br /> +he truly served but thee,<br /> +the pearl of womanhood;<br /> +if he unheeded<br /> +left the helm<br /> +how could he pilot the ship<br /> +in surety to King Mark?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>bitterly</i>).<br /> +"How could he pilot the ship<br /> +in surety to King Mark!"<br /> +And wait on him with were-gild<br /> +from Ireland's island won!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA.<br /> +As I gave out the message<br /> +and in thy very words,<br /> +thus spoke his henchman Kurvenal—</p> +<p>ISOLDA.<br /> +Heard I not ev'ry sentence?<br /> +it all has reached my ear.<br /> +If thou hast learnt my disgrace<br /> +now hear too whence it has grown.<br /> +<span class="indent">How scoffingly</span><br /> +<span class="indent">they sing about me!</span><br /> +Quickly could I requite them!<br /> +<span class="indent">What of the boat</span><br /> +<span class="indent">so bare and frail,</span><br /> +that floated by our shore?<br /> +<span class="indent">What of the broken</span><br /> +<span class="indent">stricken man,</span><br /> +feebly extended there?<br /> +<span class="indent">Isolda's art</span><br /> +<span class="indent">he gladly owned;</span><br /> +<span class="indent">with herbs, simples</span><br /> +<span class="indent">and healing salves</span><br /> +the wounds from which he suffered<br /> +she nursed in skilful wise.<br /> +<span class="indent">Though "Tantris"</span><br /> +The name that he took unto him,<br /> +<span class="indent">as "Tristan"</span><br /> +anon Isolda knew him,<br /> +when in the sick man's keen blade<br /> +she perceived a notch had been made,<br /> +<span class="indent">wherein did fit</span><br /> +<span class="indent">a splinter broken</span><br /> +in Morold's head,<br /> +the mangled token<br /> +sent home in hatred rare:<br /> +this hand did find it there.<br /> +I heard a voice<br /> +from distance dim;<br /> +with the sword in hand<br /> +I came to him.<br /> +Full well I willed to slay him,<br /> +for Morold's death to pay him.<br /> +But from his sick bed<br /> +he looked up<br /> +not at the sword,<br /> +not at my arm—<br /> +his eyes on mine were fastened,<br /> +and his feebleness<br /> +softened my heart:<br /> +the sword—dropped from my fingers.<br /> +Though Morold's steel had maimed him<br /> +to health again I reclaimed him!<br /> +when he hath homeward wended<br /> +my emotion then might be ended.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA.<br /> +O wondrous! Why could I not see this?<br /> +The guest I sometime<br /> +helped to nurse—?</p> +<p>ISOLDA.<br /> +His praise briskly they sing now:—<br /> +"Bravo, our brave Tristan!"—<br /> +he was that distressful man.<br /> +A thousand protestations<br /> +of truth and love he prated.<br /> +Hear how a knight<br /> +fealty knows!—<br /> +When as Tantris<br /> +unforbidden he'd left me,<br /> +as Tristan<br /> +boldly back he came,<br /> +in stately ship<br /> +from which in pride<br /> +Ireland's heiress<br /> +in marriage he asked<br /> +for Mark, the Cornish monarch,<br /> +his kinsman worn and old.<br /> +In Morold's lifetime<br /> +dared any have dreamed<br /> +to offer us such an insult?<br /> +For the tax-paying<br /> +Cornish prince<br /> +to presume to court Ireland's princess!<br /> +Ah, woe is me!<br /> +I it was<br /> +who for myself<br /> +did shape this shame!<br /> +with death-dealing sword<br /> +should I have stabbed him;<br /> +weakly it escaped me:—<br /> +now serfdom I have shaped me.<br /> +Curse him, the villain!<br /> +Curse on his head!<br /> +Vengeance! Death!<br /> +Death for me too!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>throwing herself upon</i> ISOLDA <i>with +impetuous tenderness</i>).<br /> +Isolda! lady!<br /> +loved one! fairest!<br /> +sweet perfection!<br /> +mistress rarest!<br /> +Hear me! come now,<br /> +sit thee here.—</p> +<p>(<i>Gradually draws</i> ISOLDA <i>to the couch</i>.)</p> +<p>What a whim!<br /> +what causeless railing!<br /> +How came you so wrong-minded<br /> +and by mere fancy blinded?<br /> +Sir Tristan gives thee<br /> +Cornwall's kingdom;<br /> +then, were he erst thy debtor,<br /> +how could he reward thee better?<br /> +His noble uncle<br /> +serves he so:<br /> +think too what a gift<br /> +on thee he'd bestow!<br /> +With honor unequalled<br /> +all he's heir to<br /> +at thy feet he seeks to shower,<br /> +to make thee a queenly dower.</p> +<p>(ISOLDA <i>turns away</i>.)</p> +<p>If wife he'd make thee<br /> +unto King Mark<br /> +why wert thou in this wise complaining?<br /> +Is he not worth thy gaining?<br /> +Of royal race<br /> +and mild of mood,<br /> +who passes King Mark<br /> +in might and power?<br /> +If a noble knight<br /> +like Tristan serves him,<br /> +who would not but feel elated,<br /> +so fairly to be mated.</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>gazing vacantly before her</i>).<br /> +Glorious knight!<br /> +And I must near him<br /> +loveless ever languish!<br /> +How can I support such anguish?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA.<br /> +What's this, my lady?<br /> +loveless thou?</p> +<p>(<i>Approaching coaxingly and kissing</i> ISOLDA.)</p> +<p>Where lives there a man<br /> +would not love thee?<br /> +Who could see Isolda<br /> +And not sink<br /> +at once into bondage blest?<br /> +And if e'en it could be<br /> +any were cold,<br /> +did any magic<br /> +draw him from thee,<br /> +I'd bring the false one<br /> +back to bondage,<br /> +And bind him in links of love.—</p> +<p>(<i>Secretly and confidentially, close to</i> ISOLDA.)</p> +<p>Mindest thou not<br /> +thy mother's arts?<br /> +Think you that she<br /> +who'd mastered those<br /> +would have sent me o'er the sea,<br /> +without assistance for thee?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>darkly</i>).<br /> +My mother's rede<br /> +I mind aright,<br /> +and highly her magic<br /> +arts I hold:—<br /> +Vengeance they wreak for wrongs,<br /> +rest give to wounded spirits.—<br /> +Yon casket hither bear.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA.<br /> +It holds a balm for thee.—</p> +<p>(<i>She brings forward a small golden coffer, opens it, and +points to its contents</i>.)</p> +<p>Thy mother placed inside it<br /> +her subtle magic potions.<br /> +There's salve for sickness<br /> +or for wounds,<br /> +and antidotes<br /> +for deadly drugs.—</p> +<p>(<i>She takes a bottle</i>.)</p> +<p>The helpfullest draught<br /> +I hold in here.</p> +<p>ISOLDA.<br /> +Not so, I know a better.<br /> +I make a mark<br /> +to know it again—<br /> +This draught 'tis I would drain.</p> +<p>(<i>Seizes flask and shows it</i>.)</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>recoiling in horror</i>).<br /> +The draught of death!</p> +<p>(ISOLDA <i>has risen from the sofa and now hears with increasing +dread the cries of the sailors</i>.)</p> +<p>VOICES OF THE CREW (<i>without</i>).<br /> +"Ho! heave ho! hey!<br /> +Reduce the sail!<br /> +The mainsail in!<br /> +Ho! heave ho! hey!"</p> +<p>ISOLDA.<br /> +Our journey has been swift.<br /> +Woe is me! Near to the land!</p> +<h4>SCENE IV.</h4> +<p>(KURVENAL <i>boisterously enters through the curtains</i>.)</p> +<p>KURVENAL.<br /> +Up, up, ye ladies!<br /> +Look alert!<br /> +Straight bestir you!<br /> +Loiter not,—here is the land!—<br /> +To dame Isolda<br /> +says the servant<br /> +of Tristan,<br /> +our hero true:—<br /> +Behold our flag is flying!<br /> +it waveth landwards aloft:<br /> +in Mark's ancestral castle<br /> +may our approach be seen.<br /> +So, dame Isolda,<br /> +he prays to hasten,<br /> +for land straight to prepare her,<br /> +that thither he may bear her.</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>who has at first cowered and shuddered on hearing the +message, now speaks calmly and with dignity</i>). My greeting +take<br /> +unto your lord<br /> +and tell him what I say now:<br /> +Should he assist to land me<br /> +and to King Mark would he hand me,<br /> +unmeet and unseemly<br /> +were his act,<br /> +the while my pardon<br /> +was not won<br /> +for trespass black and base:<br /> +So bid him seek my grace.</p> +<p>(KURVENAL <i>makes a gesture of defiance</i>.)</p> +<p>Now mark me well,<br /> +This message take:—<br /> +Nought will I yet prepare me,<br /> +that he to land may bear me;<br /> +I will not by him be landed,<br /> +nor unto King Mark be handed<br /> +ere granting forgiveness<br /> +and forgetfulness,<br /> +which 'tis seemly<br /> +he should seek:—<br /> +for all his trespass base<br /> +I tender him my grace.</p> +<p>KURVENAL.<br /> +Be assured,<br /> +I'll bear your words:<br /> +we'll see what he will say!</p> +<p>(<i>He retires quickly</i>.)</p> +<h4>SCENE V.</h4> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>hurries to</i> BRANGÆNA <i>and embraces her +vehemently</i>).<br /> +Now farewell, Brangæna!<br /> +Greet ev'ry one,<br /> +Greet my father and mother!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA.<br /> +What now? what mean'st thou?<br /> +Wouldst thou flee?<br /> +And where must I then follow?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>checking herself suddenly</i>).<br /> +Here I remain:<br /> +heard you not?<br /> +Tristan will I await.—<br /> +I trust in thee<br /> +to aid in this:<br /> +prepare the true<br /> +cup of peace:<br /> +thou mindest how it is made.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA.<br /> +What meanest thou?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>taking a bottle from the coffer</i>).<br /> +This it is!<br /> +From the flask go pour<br /> +this philtre out;<br /> +yon golden goblet 'twill fill.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>filled with terror receiving the +flask</i>).<br /> +Trust I my wits?</p> +<p>ISOLDA.<br /> +Wilt thou be true?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA.<br /> +The draught—for whom?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Him who betrayed!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Tristan?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Truce he'll drink with me.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>throwing herself at</i> ISOLDA'S +<i>feet</i>). O horror!<br /> +Pity thy handmaid!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Pity thou me,<br /> +false-hearted maid!<br /> +Mindest thou not<br /> +my mother's arts?<br /> +Think you that she<br /> +who'd mastered those<br /> +would have sent thee o'er the sea<br /> +without assistance for me?<br /> +A salve for sickness<br /> +doth she offer<br /> +and antidotes<br /> +for deadly drugs:<br /> +for deepest grief<br /> +and woe supreme<br /> +gave she the draught of death.<br /> +Let Death now give her thanks!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>scarcely able to control herself</i>). O +deepest<br /> +grief!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Now, wilt thou obey?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. O woe supreme!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Wilt thou be true?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. The draught?</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>entering</i>). Sir Tristan!</p> +<p>(BRANGÆNA <i>rises, terrified and confused</i>. ISOLDA +<i>strives with immense effort to control herself</i>.)</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>to Kurvenal</i>). Sir Tristan may approach!</p> +<h4>SCENE VI.</h4> +<p>[KURVENAL <i>retires again</i>. BRANGÆNA, <i>almost beside +herself, turns up the stage</i>. ISOLDA, <i>mustering all her +powers of resolution, walks slowly and with dignity towards the +sofa, by the head of which she supports herself, turning her eyes +firmly towards the entrance</i>]</p> +<p>(TRISTAN <i>enters, and pauses respectfully at the +entrance</i>.)</p> + +<div class="center"> +<a href="images/music0028.png"><img src="images/music0028_t.png" alt= +"sheet music" /></a> +<a href="images/music0029.png"><img src="images/music0029_t.png" alt= +"sheet music" /></a> +</div> +<p> </p> +<p>TRISTAN. Demand, lady,<br /> +what you will.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. While knowing not<br /> +what my demand is,<br /> +wert thou afraid<br /> +still to fulfil it,<br /> +fleeing my presence thus?</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Honor<br /> +Held me in awe.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Scant honor hast thou<br /> +shown unto me;<br /> +for, unabashed,<br /> +withheldest thou<br /> +obedience unto my call.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Obedience 'twas<br /> +forbade me to come.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. But little I owe<br /> +thy lord, methinks,<br /> +if he allows<br /> +ill manners<br /> +unto his own promised bride.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. In our land<br /> +it is the law<br /> +that he who fetches<br /> +home the bride<br /> +should stay afar from her.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. On what account?</p> +<p>TRISTAN. 'Tis the custom.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Being so careful,<br /> +my lord Tristan,<br /> +another custom<br /> +can you not learn?<br /> +Of enemies friends make:<br /> +for evil acts amends make.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Who is my foe?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Find in thy fears!<br /> +Blood-guilt<br /> +gets between us.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. That was absolved.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Not between us.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. In open field,<br /> +'fore all the folk<br /> +our old feud was abandoned.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. 'Twas not there<br /> +I held Tantris hid<br /> +when Tristan was laid low,<br /> +He stood there brawny,<br /> +bright and brave;<br /> +but in his truce<br /> +I took no part:<br /> +my tongue its silence had learnt.<br /> +When in chambered stillness<br /> +sick he lay<br /> +with the sword I stood<br /> +before him, stern;<br /> +silent—my lips,<br /> +motionless—my hand.<br /> +But that which my hand<br /> +and lips had once vowed,<br /> +I swore in stealth to adhere to:<br /> +lo! now my desire I'm near to.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. What hast thou sworn?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>quickly</i>). Vengeance for Morold!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>quietly</i>). Mindst thou that?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>animated</i>). Dare you to flout me?—<br /> +Was he not my betrothed,<br /> +that noble Irish knight?<br /> +For his sword a blessing I sought;<br /> +for me only he fought.<br /> +When he was murdered<br /> +no honor fell.<br /> +In that heartfelt misery<br /> +my vow was framed;<br /> +if no man remained to right it,<br /> +I, a maid, must needs requite it.—<br /> +Weak and maimed,<br /> +when might was mine,<br /> +why at thy death did I pause?<br /> +Thou shalt know the secret cause.—<br /> +Thy hurts I tended<br /> +that, when sickness ended,<br /> +thou shouldst fall by some man,<br /> +as Isolda's revenge should plan.<br /> +But now attempt<br /> +thy fate to foretell me?<br /> +if their friendship all men do sell thee,<br /> +what foe can seek to fell thee?</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>pale and gloomy, offers her his sword</i>). If<br /> +thou so lovedst this lord,<br /> +then lift once more my sword,<br /> +nor from thy purpose refrain;<br /> +let the weapon not fail again.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Put up thy sword<br /> +which once I swung,<br /> +when vengeful rancor<br /> +my bosom wrung,<br /> +when thy masterful eyes<br /> +did ask me straight<br /> +whether King Mark<br /> +might seek me for mate.<br /> +The sword harmless descended.—<br /> +Drink, let our strife be ended!</p> +<p>(ISOLDA <i>beckons</i> BRANGÆNA. <i>She trembles and +hesitates to obey</i>. ISOLDA <i>commands her with a more imperious +gesture</i>. BRANGÆNA <i>sets about preparing the +drink</i>.)</p> +<p>VOICES OF THE CREW (<i>without</i>). Ho! heave ho! hey!<br /> +Reduce the sail!<br /> +The foresail in!<br /> +Ho! heave ho! hey!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>starting from his gloomy brooding</i>). Where<br /> +are we?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Near to shore.<br /> +Tristan, is warfare ended?<br /> +Hast not a word to offer?</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>darkly</i>). Concealment's mistress<br /> +makes me silent:<br /> +I know what she conceals,<br /> +conceal, too, more than she knows.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Thy silence nought<br /> +but feigning I deem.<br /> +Friendship wilt thou still deny?</p> +<p>(<i>Renewed cries of the Sailors</i>.)</p> +<p>(<i>At an impatient sign from</i> ISOLDA BRANGÆNA <i>hands +her the filled cup</i>.)</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>advancing with the cup to</i> TRISTAN, <i>who gazes +immovably into her eyes</i>).<br /> +Thou hear'st the cry?<br /> +The shore's in sight:<br /> +we must ere long (<i>with slight scorn</i>)<br /> +stand by King Mark together.</p> +<p>SAILORS (<i>without</i>). Haul the warp!<br /> +Anchor down!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>starting wildly</i>). Down with the anchor!<br /> +Her stern to the stream!<br /> +The sails a-weather the mast!</p> +<p>(<i>He takes the cup from</i> ISOLDA.)</p> +<p>I know the Queen<br /> +of Ireland well,<br /> +unquestioned are<br /> +her magic arts:<br /> +the balsam cured me<br /> +which she brought;<br /> +now bid me quaff the cup,<br /> +that I may quite recover.<br /> +Heed to my all—<br /> +atoning oath,<br /> +which in return I tender<br /> +Tristan's honor—<br /> +highest truth!<br /> +Tristan's anguish—<br /> +brave distress!<br /> +Traitor spirit,<br /> +dawn-illumined!<br /> +Endless trouble's<br /> +only truce!<br /> +Oblivion's kindly draught,<br /> +with rapture thou art quaff'd!</p> +<p>(<i>He lifts the cup and drinks</i>.)</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Betrayed e'en here?<br /> +I must halve it!—</p> +<p>(<i>She wrests the cup from his hand</i>.)</p> +<p>Betrayer, I drink to thee!</p> +<p>[<i>She drinks, and then throws away the cup. Both, seized with +shuddering, gaze with deepest emotion, but immovable demeanor, into +one another's eyes, in which the expression of defiance to death +fades and melts into the glow of passion. Trembling seizes them, +they convulsively clutch their hearts and pass their hands over +their brows. Their glances again seek to meet, sink in confusion, +and once more turn with growing longing upon one another</i>.]</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>with trembling voice</i>). Tristan!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>overpowered</i>). Isolda!</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>sinking upon his breast</i>). Traitor beloved!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Woman divine!</p> +<p>(<i>He embraces her with ardor. They remain in a silent +embrace</i>.)</p> +<p>ALL THE MEN (<i>without</i>). Hail! Hail!<br /> +Hail our monarch!<br /> +Hail to Mark, the king!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>who, filled with confusion and horror, has +leaned over the side with averted face, now turns to behold the +pair locked in their close embrace, and rushes to the front, +wringing her hands in despair</i>). Woe's me! Woe's me!<br /> +Endless mis'ry<br /> +I have wrought<br /> +instead of death!<br /> +Dire the deed<br /> +of my dull fond heart:<br /> +it cries aloud to heav'n!</p> +<p>(<i>They start from their embrace</i>.)</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>bewildered</i>). What troubled dream<br /> +of Tristan's honor?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. What troubled dream<br /> +Of Isolda's shame?</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Have I then lost thee?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Have I repulsed thee?</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Fraudulent magic,<br /> +framing deceit!</p> +<p>BOTH. Languishing passion,<br /> +longing and growing,<br /> +love ever yearning,<br /> +loftiest glowing!<br /> +Rapture confess'd<br /> +rides in each breast!<br /> +Isolda! Tristan!<br /> +Tristan! Isolda!<br /> +World, I can shun thee<br /> +my love is won me!<br /> +Thou'rt my thought, all above:<br /> +highest delight of love!</p> +<h4>SCENE VII.</h4> +<p>[<i>The curtains are now drawn wide apart; the whole ship is +covered with knights and sailors, who, with shouts of joy, make +signs over towards the shore which is now seen to be quite near, +with castle-crowned cliffs. Tristan and Isolda remain absorbed in +mutual contemplation, perceiving nothing that is passing</i>.]</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>to the women, who at her bidding ascend from +below</i>).<br /> +Quick—the mantle!<br /> +the royal robe!—</p> +<p>(<i>Rushing between</i> TRISTAN <i>and</i> ISOLDA.)</p> +<p>Up, hapless ones!<br /> +See where we are!</p> +<p>(<i>She places the royal mantle on</i> ISOLDA, <i>who notices +nothing</i>.)</p> +<p>ALL THE MEN. Hail! Hail!<br /> +Hail our monarch!<br /> +Hail to Mark the king!</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>advancing gaily</i>). Hail, Tristan,<br /> +knight of good hap!<br /> +Behold King Mark approaching,<br /> +in a bark<br /> +with brave attendance.<br /> +Gladly he stems the tide,<br /> +coming to seek his bride.</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>looking up in bewilderment</i>). Who comes?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. The king 'tis.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. What king mean you?</p> +<p>(KURVENAL <i>points over the side</i>. TRISTAN <i>gazes +stupefied at the shore</i>.)</p> +<p>ALL THE MEN (<i>waving their hats</i>). Hail to King Mark!<br /> +All hail!</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>bewildered</i>). What is't, Brangæna?<br /> +What are those cries?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Isolda—mistress!<br /> +Compose thyself!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Where am I! living?<br /> +What was that draught?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>despairingly</i>). The love-potion!</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>staring with horror at</i> TRISTAN). Tristan!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Isolda!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Must I live, then?</p> +<p>(<i>Falls fainting upon his breast</i>.)</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>to the women</i>). Look to your lady!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. O rapture fraught with cunning!<br /> +O fraud with bliss o'er-running!</p> +<p>ALL THE MEN (<i>in a general burst of acclamation</i>).<br /> +Hail to King Mark!<br /> +Cornwall, hail!</p> +<p>[<i>People have clambered over the ship's side, others have +extended a bridge, and the aspect of all indicates the immediate +arrival of the expected ones, as the curtain falls</i>.]</p> +<br /> +<h3>ACT II.</h3> +<p>[<i>A Garden before ISOLDA'S Chamber which lies at one side and +is approached by steps. Bright and pleasant summer night. At the +open door a burning torch is fixed. Sounds of hunting +heard</i>.]</p> +<h4>SCENE I.</h4> +<p>[BRANGÆNA, <i>on the steps leading to the chamber, is +watching the retreat of the still audible hunters. She looks +anxiously back into the chamber as ISOLDA emerges thence in ardent +animation</i>.]</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Yet do you hear?<br /> +I lost the sound some time.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>listening</i>). Still do they stay:<br /> +clearly rings the horns.</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>listening</i>). Fear but deludes<br /> +thy anxious ear;<br /> +by sounds of rustling<br /> +leaves thou'rt deceived,<br /> +aroused by laughter of winds.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Deceived by wild<br /> +desire art thou,<br /> +and but hear'st as would thy will:—<br /> +I still hear the sound of horns.</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>listens</i>). No sound of horns<br /> +were so sweet:<br /> +yon fountain's soft<br /> +murmuring current<br /> +moves so quietly hence.<br /> +If horns yet brayed,<br /> +how could I hear that?<br /> +In still night alone<br /> +it laughs on mine ear.<br /> +My lov'd one hides<br /> +in darkness unseen:<br /> +wouldst thou hold from my side my dearest?<br /> +deeming that horns thou hearest?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Thy lov'd one hid—<br /> +oh heed my warning!—<br /> +for him a spy waits by night.<br /> +Listening oft<br /> +I light upon him:<br /> +he lays a secret snare.<br /> +Of Melot oh beware!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Mean you Sir Melot?<br /> +O, how you mistake!<br /> +Is he not Tristan's<br /> +trustiest friend?<br /> +May my true love not meet me,<br /> +with none but Melot he stays.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. What moves me to fear him<br /> +makes thee his friend then?<br /> +Through Tristan to Mark's side<br /> +is Melot's way:<br /> +he sows suspicion's seed.<br /> +And those who have<br /> +to-day on a night-hunt<br /> +so suddenly decided,<br /> +a far nobler game<br /> +than is guessed by thee<br /> +taxes their hunting skill.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. For Tristan's sake<br /> +contrived was this scheme<br /> +by means of<br /> +Melot, in truth:<br /> +now would you decry his friendship?<br /> +He serves Isolda<br /> +better than you<br /> +his hand gives help<br /> +which yours denies:<br /> +what need of such delay?<br /> +The signal, Brangæna!<br /> +O give the signal!<br /> +Tread out the torch's<br /> +trembling gleam,<br /> +that night may envelop<br /> +all with her veil.<br /> +Already her peace reigns<br /> +o'er hill and hall,<br /> +her rapturous awe<br /> +the heart does enthral;<br /> +allow then the light to fall!<br /> +Let but its dread lustre die!<br /> +let my beloved draw nigh!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. The light of warning suppress not!<br /> +Let it remind thee of peril!—<br /> +Ah, woe's me! Woe's me!<br /> +Fatal folly!<br /> +The fell pow'r of that potion!<br /> +That I framed<br /> +a fraud for once<br /> +thy orders to oppose!<br /> +Had I been deaf and blind,<br /> +thy work<br /> +were then thy death:<br /> +but thy distress,<br /> +thy distraction of grief,<br /> +my work<br /> +has contrived them, I own it!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Thy—act?<br /> +O foolish girl!<br /> +Love's goddess dost thou not know?<br /> +nor all her magic arts?<br /> +The queen who grants<br /> +unquailing hearts,<br /> +the witch whose will<br /> +the world obeys,<br /> +life and death<br /> +she holds in her hands,<br /> +which of joy and woe are wove?<br /> +she worketh hate into love.<br /> +The work of death<br /> +I took into my own hands;<br /> +Love's goddess saw<br /> +and gave her good commands<br /> +The death—condemned<br /> +she claimed as her prey,<br /> +planning our fate<br /> +in her own way.<br /> +How she may bend it,<br /> +how she may end it,<br /> +what she may make me,<br /> +wheresoe'er take me,<br /> +still hers am I solely;—<br /> +so let me obey her wholly.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. And if by the artful<br /> +love-potion's lures<br /> +thy light of reason is ravished,<br /> +if thou art reckless<br /> +when I would warn thee,<br /> +this once, oh, wait<br /> +and weigh my pleading!<br /> +I implore, leave it alight!—<br /> +The torch! the torch!<br /> +O put it not out this night!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. She who causes thus<br /> +my bosom's throes,<br /> +whose eager fire<br /> +within me glows,<br /> +whose light upon<br /> +my spirit flows,<br /> +Love's goddess needs<br /> +that night should close;<br /> +that brightly she may reign<br /> +and shun the torchlight vain.</p> +<p>(<i>She goes up to the door and takes down the torch</i>.)</p> +<p>Go watch without—<br /> +keep wary guard!<br /> +The signal!—<br /> +and were it my spirit's spark,<br /> +smiling<br /> +I'd destroy it and hail the dark!</p> +<p>[<i>She throws the torch to the ground where it slowly dies out. +BRANGÆNA turns away, disturbed, and mounts an outer flight of +steps leading to the roof, where she slowly disappears. ISOLDA +listens and peers, at first shyly, towards an avenue. Urged, by +rising impatience, she then approaches the avenue and looks more +boldly. She signs with her handkerchief, first slightly, then more +plainly, waving it quicker as her impatience increases. A gesture +of sudden delight shows that she has perceived her lover in the +distance. She stretches herself higher and higher, and then, to +look better over the intervening space, hastens back to the steps, +from the top of which she signals again to the on-comer. As he +enters, she springs to meet him</i>.]</p> +<h4>SCENE II.</h4> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>rushing in</i>). Isolda! Beloved!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Tristan! Beloved one!</p> +<p>(<i>Passionate embrace, with which they come down to the +front</i>.)</p> +<p>BOTH. Art thou mine?<br /> +Do I behold thee?<br /> +Do I embrace thee?<br /> +Can I believe it?<br /> +At last! At last!<br /> +Here on my breast!<br /> +Do I then clasp thee!<br /> +Is it thy own self?<br /> +Are these thine eyes?<br /> +These thy lips?<br /> +Here thy hand?<br /> +Here thy heart?<br /> +Is't I?—Is't thou,<br /> +held in my arms?<br /> +Am I not duped?<br /> +Is it no dream?<br /> +O rapture of spirit!<br /> +O sweetest, highest,<br /> +fairest, strongest,<br /> +holiest bliss?<br /> +Endless pleasure!<br /> +Boundless treasure!<br /> +Ne'er to sever!<br /> +Never! Never!<br /> +Unconceived,<br /> +unbelieved,<br /> +overpowering<br /> +exaltation!<br /> +Joy-proclaiming,<br /> +bliss-outpouring,<br /> +high in heaven,<br /> +earth ignoring!<br /> +Tristan mine!<br /> +Isolda mine!<br /> +Tristan!<br /> +Isolda!<br /> +Mine alone!<br /> +Thine alone!<br /> +Ever all my own!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. The light! The light!<br /> +O but this light,<br /> +how long 'twas let to burn!<br /> +The sun had sunk,<br /> +the day had fled;<br /> +but all their spite<br /> +not yet was sped:<br /> +the scaring signal<br /> +they set alight,<br /> +before my belov'd one's dwelling,<br /> +my swift approach repelling.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Thy belov'd one's hand<br /> +lowered the light,<br /> +for Brangæna's fears<br /> +in me roused no fright:<br /> +while Love's goddess gave me aid,<br /> +sunlight a mock I made.<br /> +But the light its fear<br /> +and defeat repaid;<br /> +with thy misdeeds<br /> +a league it made.<br /> +What thou didst see<br /> +in shadowing night,<br /> +to the shining sun<br /> +of kingly might<br /> +must thou straightway surrender,<br /> +that it should<br /> +exist in bright<br /> +bonds of empty splendor.—<br /> +Could I bear it then?<br /> +Can I bear it now?</p> +<p>TRISTAN. O now were we<br /> +to night devoted,<br /> +the dishonest day<br /> +with envy bloated,<br /> +lying, could not mislead,<br /> +though it might part us indeed.<br /> +Its pretentious glows<br /> +and its glamouring light<br /> +are scouted by those<br /> +who worship night.<br /> +All its flickering gleams<br /> +in flashes out-blazing<br /> +blind us no more<br /> +where we are gazing.<br /> +Those who death's night<br /> +boldly survey,<br /> +those who have studied<br /> +her secret way,<br /> +the daylight's falsehoods—<br /> +rank and fame,<br /> +honor and all<br /> +at which men aim—<br /> +to them are no more matter<br /> +than dust which sunbeams scatter,<br /> +In the daylight's visions thronging<br /> +only abides one longing;<br /> +we yearn to hie<br /> +to holy night,<br /> +where, unending,<br /> +only true,<br /> +Love extendeth delight!</p> +<p>(TRISTAN <i>draws</i> ISOLDA <i>gently aside to a flowery bank, +sinks on his knee before her and rests his head on her +arm</i>.)</p> +<div class="center"> +<a href="images/music0050.png"><img src="images/music0050_t.png" alt= +"sheet music" /></a> +<a href="images/music0051.png"><img src="images/music0051_t.png" alt= +"sheet music" /></a> +<a href="images/music0052.png"><img src="images/music0052_t.png" alt= +"sheet music" /></a> +</div> +<p> </p> +<p>(TRISTAN <i>and</i> ISOLDA <i>sink into oblivious ecstasy, +reposing on the flowery bank close together</i>.)</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>from the turret, unseen</i>). Long I +watch<br /> +alone by night:<br /> +ye enwrapt<br /> +in love's delight,<br /> +heed my boding<br /> +voice aright.<br /> +I forewarn you<br /> +woe is near;<br /> +waken to<br /> +my words of fear.<br /> +Have a care!<br /> +Have a care!<br /> +Swiftly night doth wear!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. List, beloved!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Let me die thus!</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>slowly raising herself a little</i>). Envious<br /> +watcher!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>remaining in reclining position</i>). I'll +ne'er<br /> +waken.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. But the Day<br /> +must dawn and rouse thee?</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>raising his head slightly</i>). Let the Day<br /> +to Death surrender!</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Day and Death<br /> +will both engender<br /> +feud against<br /> +our passion tender.</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>drawing</i> ISOLDA <i>gently towards him with +expressive action</i>). O might we then<br /> +together die,<br /> +each the other's<br /> +own for aye!<br /> +never fearing,<br /> +never waking,<br /> +blest delights<br /> +of love partaking,—<br /> +each to each be given,<br /> +in love alone our heaven!</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>gazing up at him in thoughtful ecstasy</i>).<br /> +O might we then<br /> +together die!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Each the other's—</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Own for aye,—</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Never fearing—</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Never waking—</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Blest delights<br /> +of love partaking—</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Each to each be given;<br /> +in love alone our heaven.</p> +<p>(ISOLDA, <i>as if overcome, droops her head on his +breast.</i>)</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA'S VOICE (<i>as before</i>).<br /> +Have a care!<br /> +Have a care!<br /> +Night yields to daylight's glare.</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>bends smilingly to ISOLDA</i>).<br /> +Shall I listen?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (looking fondly up at TRISTAN).<br /> +Let me die thus!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Must I waken?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Nought shall wake me!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Must not daylight<br /> +dawn, and rouse me?</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Let the Day<br /> +to Death surrender!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. May thus the Day's<br /> +evil threats be defied?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>with growing enthusiasm</i>).<br /> +From its thraldom let us fly.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. And shall not its dawn<br /> +be dreaded by us?</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>rising with a grand gesture</i>).<br /> +Night will shield us for aye!</p> +<p>(TRISTAN <i>follows her; they embrace in fond +exaltation</i>.)</p> +<p>BOTH. O endless Night!<br /> +blissful Night!<br /> +glad and glorious<br /> +lover's Night!<br /> +Those whom thou holdest,<br /> +lapped in delight,<br /> +how could e'en the boldest<br /> +unmoved endure thy flight?<br /> +How to take it,<br /> +how to break it,—<br /> +joy existent,<br /> +sunlight distant,<br /> +Far from mourning,<br /> +sorrow-warning,<br /> +fancies spurning,<br /> +softly yearning,<br /> +fear expiring,<br /> +sweet desiring!<br /> +Anguish flying,<br /> +gladly dying;<br /> +no more pining,<br /> +night-enshrining,<br /> +ne'er divided<br /> +whate'er betided,<br /> +side by side<br /> +still abide<br /> +in realms of space unmeasured,<br /> +vision blest and treasured!<br /> +Thou Isolda,<br /> +Tristan I;<br /> +no more Tristan,<br /> +no more Isolda.<br /> +Never spoken,<br /> +never broken,<br /> +newly sighted,<br /> +newly lighted,<br /> +endless ever<br /> +all our dream:<br /> +in our bosoms gleam<br /> +love delights supreme!</p> +<h4>SCENE III.</h4> +<p>[BRANGÆNA <i>utters a piercing cry</i>. TRISTAN <i>and</i> +ISOLDA <i>remain in their absorbed state</i>. KURVENAL <i>rushes in +with drawn sword</i>.]</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Save yourself, Tristan!</p> +<p>[<i>He looks fearfully off behind him</i>. MARK, MELOT, <i>and +courtiers, in hunting dress, come swiftly up the avenue and pause +in the foreground in consternation before the lovers</i>. +BRANGÆNA <i>at the same time descends from the roof and +hastens towards</i> ISOLDA. <i>The latter in involuntary shame +leans on the flowery bank with averted face</i>. TRISTAN <i>with an +equally unconscious action stretches his mantle wide out with one +arm, so as to conceal</i> ISOLDA <i>from the gaze of the +new-comers. In this position he remains for some time, turning a +changeless look upon the men, who gaze at him in varied emotion. +The morning dawns</i>.]</p> +<p>TRISTAN. The dreary day—<br /> +its last time comes!</p> +<p>MELOT (<i>to Mark</i>). Now say to me, my sov'reign,<br /> +was my impeachment just?<br /> +I staked my head thereon:<br /> +How is the pledge redeemed?<br /> +Behold him in<br /> +the very act:<br /> +honor and fame,<br /> +faithfully I<br /> +have saved from shame for thee.</p> +<p>MARK (<i>deeply moved, with trembling voice</i>). Hast +thou<br /> +preserved them?<br /> +Say'st thou so?—<br /> +See him there,<br /> +the truest of all true hearts!<br /> +Look on him<br /> +the faithfulest of friends, too<br /> +His offence<br /> +so black and base<br /> +fills my heart<br /> +with anguish and disgrace.<br /> +Tristan traitor,<br /> +what hope stayeth<br /> +that the honor<br /> +he betrayeth<br /> +should by Melot's rede<br /> +rest to me indeed?</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>with convulsive violence</i>). Daylight +phantoms—<br /> +morning visions<br /> +empty and vain—<br /> +Avaunt! Begone!</p> +<p>MARK (<i>in deep emotion</i>). This—blow.<br /> +Tristan, to me?<br /> +Where now has truth fled,<br /> +if Tristan can betray?<br /> +Where now are faith<br /> +and friendship fair,<br /> +when from the fount of faith,<br /> +my Tristan, they are gone?<br /> +The buckler Tristan<br /> +once did don,<br /> +where is that shield<br /> +of virtue now?<br /> +when from my friends it flies,<br /> +and Tristan's honor dies?</p> +<p>(TRISTAN <i>slowly lowers his eyes to the ground. His features +express increasing grief while MARK continues</i>.)</p> +<p>Why hast thou noble<br /> +service done,<br /> +and honor, fame<br /> +and potent might<br /> +amassed for Mark, thy king?<br /> +Must honor, fame,<br /> +power and might,<br /> +must all thy noble<br /> +service done<br /> +be paid with Mark's dishonor?<br /> +Seemed the reward<br /> +too slight and scant<br /> +that what thou hast won him—<br /> +realms and riches—<br /> +thou art the heir unto, all?<br /> +When childless he lost<br /> +once a wife,<br /> +he loved thee so<br /> +that ne'er again<br /> +did Mark desire to marry.<br /> +When all his subjects,<br /> +high and low,<br /> +demands and pray'rs,<br /> +on him did press<br /> +to choose himself a consort—<br /> +a queen to give the kingdom,<br /> +when thou thyself<br /> +thy uncle urged<br /> +that what the court<br /> +and country pleaded<br /> +well might be conceded,<br /> +opposing high and low,<br /> +opposing e'en thyself,<br /> +with kindly cunning<br /> +still he refused,<br /> +till, Tristan, thou didst threaten<br /> +forever to leave<br /> +both court and land<br /> +if thou receivedst<br /> +not command<br /> +a bride for the king to woo:<br /> +then so he let thee do.—<br /> +This wondrous lovely wife,<br /> +thy might for me did win,<br /> +who could behold her,<br /> +who address her,<br /> +who in pride<br /> +and bliss possess her,<br /> +but would bless his happy fortune?<br /> +She whom I have<br /> +paid respect to ever,<br /> +whom I owned,<br /> +yet possess'd her never<br /> +she, the princess<br /> +proud and peerless,<br /> +lighting up<br /> +my life so cheerless,<br /> +'spite foes,—without fear,<br /> +the fairest of brides<br /> +thou didst bring me here.<br /> +Why in hell must I bide,<br /> +without hope of a heaven?<br /> +Why endure disgrace<br /> +unhealed by tears or grief?<br /> +The unexplained,<br /> +unpenetrated<br /> +cause of all these woes,<br /> +who will to us disclose?</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>raising his eyes pitifully towards</i> MARK).<br /> +O monarch! I—<br /> +may not tell thee, truly;<br /> +what thou dost ask<br /> +remains for aye unanswered.—</p> +<p>(<i>He turns to</i> ISOLDA, <i>who looks tenderly up at +him</i>.)</p> +<p>Where Tristan now is going,<br /> +wilt thou, Isolda, follow?<br /> +The land that Tristan means<br /> +of sunlight has no gleams;<br /> +it is the dark<br /> +abode of night,<br /> +from whence I first<br /> +came forth to light,<br /> +and she who bore me<br /> +thence in anguish,<br /> +gave up her life,<br /> +nor long did languish.<br /> +She but looked on my face,<br /> +then sought this resting-place.<br /> +This land where Night doth reign,<br /> +where Tristan once hath lain—<br /> +now thither offers he<br /> +thy faithful guide to be.<br /> +So let Isolda<br /> +straight declare<br /> +if she will meet him there.</p> +<p>ISOLDA. When to a foreign land<br /> +before thou didst invite,<br /> +to thee, traitor,<br /> +resting true,<br /> +did Isolda follow.<br /> +Thy kingdom now art showing,<br /> +where surely we are going!<br /> +why should I shun that land<br /> +by which the world is spann'd?<br /> +For Tristan's house and home<br /> +Isold' will make her own.<br /> +The road whereby<br /> +we have to go<br /> +I pray thee quickly show!—</p> +<p>(TRISTAN <i>bends slowly over her and kisses her softly on the +forehead</i>. MELOT <i>starts furiously forward</i>.)</p> +<p>MELOT (<i>drawing his sword</i>). Thou villain! Ha!<br /> +Avenge thee, monarch!<br /> +Say, wilt suffer such scorn?</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>drawing his sword and turning quickly +round</i>)<br /> +Who's he will set his life against mine?</p> +<p>(<i>casting a look at MELOT</i>).</p> +<p>This was my friend;<br /> +he told me he loved me truly:<br /> +my fame and honor<br /> +he upheld more than all men.<br /> +With arrogance<br /> +he filled my heart,<br /> +and led on those<br /> +who prompted me<br /> +fame and pow'r to augment me<br /> +by wedding thee to our monarch.—<br /> +Thy glance, Isolda,<br /> +glamoured him thus;<br /> +and, jealous, my friend<br /> +played me false<br /> +to King Mark, whom I betrayed.—</p> +<p>(<i>He sets on</i> MELOT.)</p> +<p>Guard thee, Melot!</p> +<p>[<i>As</i> MELOT <i>presents his sword</i> TRISTAN <i>drops his +own guard and sinks wounded into the arms of</i> KURVENAL. ISOLDA +<i>throws herself upon his breast</i>. MARK <i>holds</i> MELOT +<i>back. The curtain falls quickly</i>.]</p> +<br /> +<h3>ACT III.</h3> +<p class="center"><i>A Castle-Garden</i>.</p> +<p>[<i>At one side high castellated buildings, on the other a low +breastwork interrupted by a watch tower; at back the castle-gate. +The situation is supposed to be on rocky cliffs; through openings +the view extends over a wide sea horizon. The whole gives an +impression of being deserted by the owner, badly kept, and here and +there dilapidated and overgrown</i>.]</p> +<h4>SCENE I.</h4> +<p>[<i>In the foreground, in the garden, lies</i> TRISTAN +<i>sleeping on a couch under the shade of a great lime-tree, +stretched out as if lifeless. At his head sits</i> KURVENAL, +<i>bending over him in grief and anxiously listening to his +breathing. From without comes the mournful sound of a shepherd's +pipe</i>.</p> +<div class="center"> +<a href="images/music0065.png"><img src="images/music0065_t.png" alt= +"sheet music" /></a> +<a href="images/music0066.png"><img src="images/music0066_t.png" alt= +"sheet music" /></a> +</div> +<p> </p> +<p><i>Presently the shepherd comes and looks in with interest, +showing the upper half of his body over the wall</i>.]</p> +<p>SHEPHERD. Kurvenal, ho!—<br /> +Say, Kurvenal,—<br /> +tell me, friend!<br /> +Does he still sleep?</p> +<p>KURVENAL (turning a little towards him and shaking his head +sadly). If he awoke<br /> +it would be<br /> +but for evermore to leave us,<br /> +unless we find<br /> +the lady-leech;<br /> +alone can she give help.—<br /> +See'st thou nought?<br /> +No ship yet on the sea?</p> +<p>SHEPHERD. Quite another ditty<br /> +then would I play<br /> +as merry as ever I may.<br /> +But tell me truly,<br /> +trusty friend,<br /> +why languishes our lord?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Do not ask me;—<br /> +for I can give no answer.<br /> +Watch the sea,<br /> +if sails come in sight<br /> +a sprightly melody play.</p> +<p>SHEPHERD (<i>turns round and scans the horizon, shading his eyes +with his hand</i>).<br /> +Blank appears the sea!</p> +<p>(<i>He puts the reed pipe to his mouth and withdraws, +playing</i>.)</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>motionless—faintly</i>).<br /> +The tune so well known—<br /> +why wake to that?</p> +<p>(<i>opens his eyes and slightly turns his head</i>).</p> +<p>Where am I?</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>starting in joyous surprise</i>).<br /> +Ha!—who is speaking?<br /> +It is his voice!—<br /> +Tristan! lov'd one!<br /> +My lord! my Tristan!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>with effort</i>). Who—calls me?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Life—at last—<br /> +O thanks be to heaven!—<br /> +sweetest life<br /> +unto my Tristan newly given!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>faintly</i>). Kurvenal!—thou?<br /> +Where—was I?—<br /> +Where—am I?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Where art thou?<br /> +In safety, tranquil and sure!<br /> +Kareol 'tis;<br /> +dost thou not know<br /> +thy fathers' halls?</p> +<p>TRISTAN. This my fathers'?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Look but around.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. What awoke me?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. The herdsman's ditty<br /> +hast thou heard, doubtless;<br /> +he heedeth thy herds<br /> +above on the hills there.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Have I herds, then?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Sir, I say it!<br /> +Thine are court,<br /> +castle—all.<br /> +To thee yet true,<br /> +thy trusty folk,<br /> +as best they might,<br /> +have held thy home in guard:<br /> +the gift which once<br /> +thy goodness gave<br /> +to thy serfs and vassals here,<br /> +when going far away,<br /> +in foreign lands to dwell.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. What foreign land?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Why! in Cornwall;<br /> +where cool and able,<br /> +all that was brilliant,<br /> +brave and noble,<br /> +Tristan, my lord, lightly took.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Am I in Cornwall?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. No, no; in Kareol.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. How came I here?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Hey now! how you came?<br /> +No horse hither you rode:<br /> +a vessel bore you across.<br /> +But on my shoulders<br /> +down to the ship<br /> +you had to ride: they are broad,<br /> +they carried you to the shore.<br /> +Now you are at home once more;<br /> +your own the land,<br /> +your native land;<br /> +all loved things now are near you,<br /> +unchanged the sun doth cheer you.<br /> +The wounds from which you languish<br /> +here all shall end their anguish.</p> +<p>(<i>He presses himself to</i> TRISTAN'S <i>breast</i>.)</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Think'st thou thus!<br /> +I know 'tis not so,<br /> +but this I cannot tell thee.<br /> +Where I awoke<br /> +ne'er I was,<br /> +but where I wandered<br /> +I can indeed not tell thee.<br /> +The sun I could not see,<br /> +nor country fair, nor people;<br /> +but what I saw<br /> +I can indeed not tell thee.<br /> +It was—<br /> +the land from which I once came<br /> +and whither I return:<br /> +the endless realm<br /> +of earthly night.<br /> +One thing only<br /> +there possessed me:<br /> +blank, unending,<br /> +all-oblivion.—<br /> +How faded all forebodings!<br /> +O wistful goadings!—<br /> +Thus I call<br /> +the thoughts that all<br /> +t'ward light of day have press'd me.<br /> +What only yet doth rest me,<br /> +the love-pains that possess'd me,<br /> +from blissful death's affright<br /> +now drive me toward the light,<br /> +which, deceitful, bright and golden,<br /> +round thee, Isolda, shines.<br /> +Accurséd day<br /> +with cruel glow!<br /> +Must thou ever<br /> +wake my woe?<br /> +Must thy light<br /> +be burning ever,<br /> +e'en by night<br /> +our hearts to sever?<br /> +Ah, my fairest,<br /> +sweetest, rarest!<br /> +When wilt thou—<br /> +when, ah, when—<br /> +let the torchlight dwindle,<br /> +that so my bliss may kindle?<br /> +The light, how long it glows!<br /> +When will the house repose?</p> +<p>(<i>His voice has grown fainter and he sinks back gently, +exhausted</i>.)</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>who has been deeply distressed, now quickly rousts +himself from his dejection</i>).<br /> +I once defied,<br /> +through faith in thee,<br /> +the one for whom<br /> +now with thee I'm yearning.<br /> +Trust in my words,<br /> +thou soon shalt see her<br /> +face to face.<br /> +My tongue that comfort giveth,—<br /> +if on the earth still she liveth.</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>very feebly</i>). Yet burns the beacon's +spark:<br /> +yet is the house not dark,<br /> +Isolda lives and wakes:<br /> +her voice through darkness breaks.</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Lives she still,<br /> +then let new hope delight thee.<br /> +If foolish and dull you hold me,<br /> +this day you must not scold me.<br /> +As dead lay'st thou<br /> +since the day<br /> +when that accursed Melot<br /> +so foully wounded thee.<br /> +Thy wound was heavy:<br /> +how to heal it?<br /> +Thy simple servant<br /> +there bethought<br /> +that she who once<br /> +closed Morold's wound<br /> +with ease the hurt could heal thee<br /> +that Melot's sword did deal thee.<br /> +I found the best<br /> +of leeches there,<br /> +to Cornwall have I<br /> +sent for her:<br /> +a trusty serf<br /> +sails o'er the sea,<br /> +bringing Isold' to thee.</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>transported</i>). Isolda comes!<br /> +Isolda nears! (He struggles for words.)<br /> +O friendship! high<br /> +and holy friendship!</p> +<p>(<i>Draws</i> KURVENAL <i>to him and embraces him</i>.)</p> +<p>O Kurvenal,<br /> +thou trusty heart,<br /> +my truest friend I rank thee!<br /> +Howe'er can Tristan thank thee?<br /> +My shelter and shield<br /> +in fight and strife;<br /> +in weal or woe<br /> +thou'rt mine for life.<br /> +Those whom I hate<br /> +thou hatest too;<br /> +those whom I love<br /> +thou lovest too.<br /> +When good King Mark<br /> +I followed of old,<br /> +thou wert to him truer than gold.<br /> +When I was false<br /> +to my noble friend,<br /> +to betray too thou didst descend.<br /> +Thou art selfless,<br /> +solely mine;<br /> +thou feel'st for me<br /> +when I suffer.<br /> +But—what I suffer,<br /> +thou canst not feel for me!<br /> +this terrible yearning in my heart,<br /> +this feverish burning's<br /> +cruel smart,—<br /> +did I but show it,<br /> +couldst thou but know it,<br /> +no time here wouldst thou tarry,<br /> +to watch from tow'r thou wouldst hurry;<br /> +with all devotion<br /> +viewing the ocean,<br /> +with eyes impatiently spying,<br /> +there, where her ship's sails are flying.<br /> +Before the wind she<br /> +drives to find me;<br /> +on the wings of love she neareth,—<br /> +Isolda hither steereth!—<br /> +she nears, she nears,<br /> +so boldly and fast!<br /> +It waves, it waves,<br /> +the flag from the mast!<br /> +Hurra! Hurra!<br /> +she reaches the bar!<br /> +Dost thou not see?<br /> +Kurvenal, dost thou not see?</p> +<p>(<i>As</i> KURNEVAL <i>hesitates to leave</i> TRISTAN, <i>who is +gazing at him in mute expectation, the mournful tune of the +shepherd is heard, as before</i>.)</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>dejectedly</i>). Still is no ship in sight.</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>has listened with waning excitement and now +recommences with growing melancholy</i>).<br /> +Is this the meaning then,<br /> +thou old pathetic ditty,<br /> +of all thy sighing sound?—<br /> +On evening's breeze<br /> +it sadly rang<br /> +when, as a child,<br /> +my father's death-news chill'd me;<br /> +through morning's mist<br /> +it stole more sadly,<br /> +when the son<br /> +his mother's fate was taught,<br /> +when they who gave me breath<br /> +both felt the hand of death<br /> +to them came also<br /> +through their pain<br /> +the ancient ditty's<br /> +yearning strain,<br /> +which asked me once<br /> +and asks me now<br /> +which was the fate before me<br /> +to which my mother bore me?—<br /> +What was the fate?—<br /> +The strain so plaintive<br /> +now repeats it:—<br /> +for yearning—and dying!</p> +<p>(<i>He falls back senseless</i>.)</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>who has been vainly striving to calm</i> TRISTAN, +<i>cries out in terror</i>).<br /> +My master! Tristan!—<br /> +Frightful enchantment!—<br /> +O love's deceit!<br /> +O passion's pow'r!<br /> +Most sweet dream 'neath the sun,<br /> +see the work thou hast done!—<br /> +Here lies he now,<br /> +the noblest of knights,<br /> +with his passion all others above:<br /> +behold! what reward<br /> +his ardor requites;<br /> +the one sure reward of love!</p> +<p>(<i>with sobbing voice</i>.)</p> +<p>Art thou then dead?<br /> +Liv'st thou not?<br /> +Hast to the curse succumbed?—</p> +<p>(<i>He listens for</i> TRISTAN'S <i>breath</i>.)</p> +<p>O rapture! No!<br /> +He still moves! He lives!<br /> +and gently his lips are stirr'd.</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>very faintly</i>). The ship—is't yet in sight?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. The ship? Be sure<br /> +t'will come to-day:<br /> +it cannot tarry longer.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. On board Isolda,—<br /> +see, she smiles—<br /> +with the cup<br /> +that reconciles.<br /> +Dost thou see?<br /> +Dost thou see her now?<br /> +Full of grace<br /> +and loving mildness,<br /> +floating o'er<br /> +the ocean's wildness?<br /> +By billows of flowers<br /> +lightly lifted,<br /> +gently toward<br /> +the land she's drifted.<br /> +Her look brings ease<br /> +and sweet repose;<br /> +her hand one last<br /> +relief bestows.<br /> +Isolda! Ah, Isolda!<br /> +How fair, how sweet art thou!—<br /> +And Kurvenal, why!—<br /> +what ails thy sight?<br /> +Away, and watch for her,<br /> +foolish I see so well and plainly,<br /> +let not thine eye seek vainly<br /> +Dost thou not hear?<br /> +Away, with speed!<br /> +Haste to the watch-tow'r!<br /> +Wilt thou not heed?<br /> +The ship, the ship!<br /> +Isolda's ship!—<br /> +Thou must discern it,<br /> +must perceive it!<br /> +The ship—dost thou see it?—</p> +<p>(<i>Whilst</i> KURVENAL, <i>still hesitating, opposes</i> +TRISTAN, <i>the Shepherd's pipe is heard without, playing a joyous +strain</i>.)</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>springing joyously up</i>).<br /> +O rapture! Transport!</p> +<p>(<i>He rushes to the watch-tower and looks out</i>.)</p> +<p>Ha! the ship!<br /> +From northward it is nearing.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. So I knew,<br /> +so I said!<br /> +Yes, she yet lives,<br /> +and life to me gives.<br /> +How could Isold'<br /> +from this world be free,<br /> +which only holds<br /> +Isolda for me?</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>shouting</i>). Ahoy! Ahoy!<br /> +See her bravely tacking!<br /> +How full the canvas is filled!<br /> +How she darts! how she flies!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. The pennon? the pennon?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. A flag is floating at mast-head,<br /> +joyous and bright.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Aha! what joy!<br /> +Now through the daylight<br /> +comes my Isolda.<br /> +Isolda, oh come!<br /> +See'st thou herself?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. The ship is shut<br /> +from me by rocks.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Behind the reef?<br /> +Is there not risk!<br /> +Those dangerous breakers<br /> +ships have oft shattered.—<br /> +Who steereth the helm?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. The steadiest seaman.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Betrays he me?<br /> +Is he Melot's ally?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Trust him like me.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. A traitor thou, too!—<br /> +O caitiff!<br /> +Canst thou not see her?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Not yet.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Destruction!</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Aha! Halla-halloa I<br /> +they clear! they clear!<br /> +Safely they clear!<br /> +Inside the surf<br /> +steers now the ship to the strand.</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>shouting in joy</i>). Hallo-ho! Kurvenal!<br /> +Trustiest friend!<br /> +All the wealth I own<br /> +to-day I bequeath thee.</p> +<p>KURVENAL. With speed they approach.</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Now dost thou see her?<br /> +See'st thou Isolda?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. 'Tis she! she waves!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. O woman divine!</p> +<p>KURVENAL. The ship is a-land!<br /> +Isolda.'—ha!—<br /> +With but one leap<br /> +lightly she springs to land!</p> +<p>TRISTAN. Descend from the watch-tow'r,<br /> +indolent gazer!<br /> +Away! away<br /> +to the shore!<br /> +Help her! help my belov'd!</p> +<p>KURVENAL. In a trice she shall come;<br /> +Trust in my strong arm!<br /> +But thou, Tristan,<br /> +hold thee tranquilly here!</p> +<p>(<i>He hastens off</i>.)</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>tossing on his couch in feverish +excitement</i>).<br /> +O sunlight glowing,<br /> +glorious ray!<br /> +Ah, joy-bestowing<br /> +radiant day!<br /> +Boundeth my blood,<br /> +boisterous flood!<br /> +Infinite gladness!<br /> +Rapturous madness!<br /> +Can I bear to lie<br /> +couched here in quiet?<br /> +Away, let me fly<br /> +to where hearts run riot!<br /> +Tristan the brave,<br /> +exulting in strength,<br /> +has torn himself<br /> +from death at length.</p> +<p>(<i>He raises himself erect</i>.)</p> +<p>All wounded and bleeding<br /> +Sir Morold I defeated;<br /> +all bleeding and wounded<br /> +Isolda now shall be greeted.</p> +<p>(<i>He tears the bandage from his wound</i>.)</p> +<p>Ha, ha, my blood!<br /> +Merrily flows it.</p> +<p>(<i>He springs from his bed and staggers forward</i>.)</p> +<p>She who can help<br /> +my wound and close it,<br /> +she comes in her pride,<br /> +she comes to my aid.<br /> +Be space defied:<br /> +let the universe fade!</p> +<p>(<i>He reels to the centre of the stage</i>.)</p> +<p>ISOLDA'S VOICE (<i>without</i>).<br /> +Tristan! Tristan! Belovéd!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>in frantic excitement</i>).<br /> +What! hails me the light?<br /> +The torchlight—ha!—<br /> +The torch is extinct!<br /> +I come! I come!</p> +<h4>SCENE II.</h4> +<p>[ISOLDA <i>hastens breathlessly in</i>. TRISTAN, <i>delirious +with excitement, staggers wildly towards her. They meet in the +centre of the stage; she receives him in her arms, where he sinks +slowly to the ground</i>.]</p> +<p>ISOLDA. Tristan! Ah!</p> +<p>TRISTAN (<i>turning, his dying eyes on</i> ISOLDA). +Isolda!—</p> +<p>(<i>He dies</i>.)</p> +<p>ISOLDA. 'Tis I, 'tis I—<br /> +dearly belov'd!<br /> +Wake, and once more<br /> +hark to my voice!<br /> +Isolda calls.<br /> +Isolda comes,<br /> +with Tristan true to perish.—<br /> +Speak unto me!<br /> +But for one moment,<br /> +only one moment<br /> +open thine eyes!<br /> +Such weary days<br /> +I waited and longed,<br /> +that one single hour<br /> +I with thee might awaken.<br /> +Betrayed am I then?<br /> +Deprived by Tristan<br /> +of this our solitary,<br /> +swiftly fleeting,<br /> +final earthly joy?—<br /> +His wound, though—where?<br /> +Can I not heal it?<br /> +The rapture of night<br /> +O let us feel it?<br /> +Not of thy wounds,<br /> +not of thy wounds must thou expire!<br /> +Together, at least,<br /> +let fade life's enfeebled fire!—<br /> +How lifeless his look!—<br /> +still his heart!—<br /> +Dared he to deal me<br /> +Buch a smart?<br /> +Stayed is his breathing's<br /> +gentle tide!<br /> +Must I be wailing<br /> +at his side,<br /> +who, in rapture coming to seek him,<br /> +fearless sailed o'er the sea?<br /> +Too late, too late!<br /> +Desperate man!<br /> +Casting on me<br /> +this cruelest ban!<br /> +Comes no relief<br /> +for my load of grief?<br /> +Silent art keeping<br /> +while I am weeping?<br /> +But once more, ah!<br /> +But once again!—<br /> +Tristan!—ha!<br /> +he wakens—hark!<br /> +Beloved—<br /> +—dark!</p> +<p>(<i>She sinks down senseless upon his body</i>.)</p> +<h4>SCENE III.</h4> +<p>[KURVENAL, <i>who reëntered close behind</i> ISOLDA, <i>has +remained by the entrance speechless and petrified, gazing +motionless on</i> TRISTAN. <i>From below is now heard the dull +murmur of voices and the clash of weapons. The Shepherd clambers +over the wall</i>.]</p> +<p>SHEPHERD (<i>coming hastily and softly to</i> KURVENAL).<br /> +Kurvenal! Hear!<br /> +Another ship!</p> +<p>(KURVENAL <i>starts up in haste and looks over the rampart, +whilst the Shepherd stands apart, gazing in consternation on</i> +TRISTAN <i>and</i> ISOLDA.)</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Fiends and furies!</p> +<p>(<i>In a burst of anger</i>.)</p> +<p>All are at hand!<br /> +Melot and Mark<br /> +I see on the strand,—<br /> +Weapons and missiles!—<br /> +Guard we the gate!</p> +<p>(<i>He hastens with the Shepherd to the gate, which they both +try quickly to barricade</i>.)</p> +<p>THE STEERSMAN (<i>rushing in</i>).<br /> +Mark and his men<br /> +have set on us:<br /> +defence is vain!<br /> +We're overpowered.</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Stand to and help!—<br /> +While lasts my life<br /> +I'll let no foe enter here!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA'S VOICE (<i>without, calling from +below</i>).<br /> +Isolda! Mistress!</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Brangæna's voice! (<i>Falling down</i>.)<br /> +What want you here?</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Open, Kurvenal!<br /> +Where is Isolda?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. With foes do you come?<br /> +Woe to you, false one!</p> +<p>MELOT'S VOICE (<i>without</i>). Stand back, thou fool!<br /> +Bar not the way!</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>laughing savagely</i>). Hurrah for the day<br /> +on which I confront thee!</p> +<p>(MELOT, <i>with armed men, appears under the gateway</i>. +KURVENAL <i>falls on him and cuts him down</i>.)</p> +<p>Die, damnable wretch!</p> +<h4>SCENE IV.</h4> +<p>MELOT. Woe's me!—Tristan! (<i>He dies</i>.)</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>still without</i>). Kurvenal! Madman!<br /> +O hear—thou mistakest!</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Treacherous maid! (<i>To his men</i>.)<br /> +Come! Follow me!<br /> +Force them below! (<i>They fight</i>.)</p> +<p>MARK (<i>without</i>). Hold, thou frantic man!<br /> +Lost are thy senses?</p> +<p>KURVENAL. Here ravages Death!<br /> +Nought else, O king,<br /> +is here to be holden!<br /> +If you would earn it, come on!</p> +<p>(<i>He sets upon</i> MARK <i>and his followers</i>.)</p> +<p>MARK. Away, rash maniac!</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>has climbed over the wall at the side and +hastens in the front</i>).<br /> +Isolda! lady!<br /> +Joy and life!—<br /> +What sight's here—ha!<br /> +Liv'st thou, Isolda! (<i>She goes to</i> ISOLDA'S <i>aid</i>.)</p> +<p>MARK (<i>who with his followers has driven</i> KURVENAL <i>and +his men back from the gate and forced his way in</i>). O wild +mistake! Tristan, where art thou?</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>desperately wounded, totters before</i> MARK <i>to +the front</i>).<br /> +He lieth—there—<br /> +here, where I lie too.—</p> +<p>(<i>Sinks down at</i> TRISTAN'S <i>feet</i>.)</p> +<p>MARK. Tristan! Tristan!<br /> +Isolda! Woe!</p> +<p>KURVENAL (<i>trying to grasp</i> TRISTAN'S <i>hand</i>).<br /> +Tristan! true lord!<br /> +Chide me not<br /> +that I try to follow thee! (<i>He dies</i>.)</p> +<p>MARK. Dead together!—<br /> +All are dead!<br /> +My hero Tristan!<br /> +truest of friends,<br /> +must thou again<br /> +be to thy king a traitor?<br /> +Now, when he comes<br /> +another proof of love to give thee!<br /> +Awaken! awaken.<br /> +O hear my lamentation,<br /> +thou faithless, faithful friend!</p> +<p>(<i>Kneels down sobbing over the bodies</i>.)</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA (<i>who has revived</i> ISOLDA <i>in her +arms</i>).<br /> +She wakes! she lives!<br /> +Isolda, hear!<br /> +Hear me, mistress beloved!<br /> +Tidings of joy<br /> +I have to tell thee:<br /> +O list to thy Brangæna!<br /> +My thoughtless fault I have atoned;<br /> +after thy flight<br /> +I forthwith went to the king:<br /> +the love potion's secret<br /> +he scarce had learned<br /> +when with sedulous haste<br /> +he put to sea,<br /> +that he might find thee,<br /> +nobly renounce thee<br /> +and give thee up to thy love.</p> +<p>MARK. O why, Isolda,<br /> +Why this to me?<br /> +When clearly was disclosed<br /> +what before I could fathom not,<br /> +what joy was mine to find<br /> +my friend was free from fault!<br /> +In haste to wed<br /> +thee to my hero<br /> +with flying sails<br /> +I followed thy track:<br /> +but howe'er can<br /> +happiness<br /> +o'ertake the swift course of woe?<br /> +More food for Death did I make:<br /> +more wrong grew in mistake.</p> +<p>BRANGÆNA. Dost thou not hear?<br /> +Isolda! Lady!<br /> +O try to believe the truth!</p> +<p>ISOLDA (<i>unconscious of all around her, turning her eyes with, +rising inspiration on</i> TRISTAN'S <i>body</i>).<br /> +Mild and softly<br /> +he is smiling;<br /> +how his eyelids sweetly open!<br /> +See, oh comrades,<br /> +see you not<br /> +how he beameth<br /> +ever brighter—<br /> +how he rises<br /> +ever radiant<br /> +steeped in starlight,<br /> +borne above?<br /> +See you not<br /> +how his heart<br /> +with lion zest,<br /> +calmly happy<br /> +beats in his breast?<br /> +From his lips<br /> +in heavenly rest<br /> +sweetest breath<br /> +he softly sends.<br /> +Harken, friends!<br /> +Hear and feel ye not?<br /> +Is it I<br /> +alone am hearing<br /> +strains so tender<br /> +and endearing?<br /> +Passion swelling,<br /> +all things telling,<br /> +gently bounding,<br /> +from him sounding,<br /> +in me pushes,<br /> +upward rushes<br /> +trumpet tone<br /> +that round me gushes.<br /> +Brighter growing,<br /> +o'er me flowing,<br /> +are these breezes<br /> +airy pillows?<br /> +Are they balmy<br /> +beauteous billows?<br /> +How they rise<br /> +and gleam and glisten!<br /> +Shall I breathe them?<br /> +Shall I listen?<br /> +Shall I sip them,<br /> +dive within them,<br /> +to my panting<br /> +breathing win them?<br /> +In the breezes around,<br /> +in the harmony sound<br /> +in the world's driving<br /> +whirlwind be drown'd—<br /> +and, sinking,<br /> +be drinking—<br /> +in a kiss,<br /> +highest bliss!</p> +<p>(ISOLDA <i>sinks, as if transfigured, in</i> BRANGÆNA'S +<i>arms upon</i> TRISTAN'S <i>body. Profound emotion and grief of +the bystanders</i>. MARK <i>invokes a blessing on the dead. +Curtain</i>.)</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tristan and Isolda, by Richard Wagner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRISTAN AND ISOLDA *** + +***** This file should be named 16250-h.htm or 16250-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/2/5/16250/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Michel Boto and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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