Tristan and Isolda

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Tristan and Isolda Page 2

by Richard Wagner


  to offer us such an insult?

  For the tax-paying

  Cornish prince

  to presume to court Ireland's princess!

  Ah, woe is me!

  I it was

  who for myself

  did shape this shame!

  with death-dealing sword

  should I have stabbed him;

  weakly it escaped me:-

  now serfdom I have shaped me.

  Curse him, the villain!

  Curse on his head!

  Vengeance! Death!

  Death for me too!

  BRANGAENA (throwing herself uponISOLDAwith impetuous

  tenderness).

  Isolda! lady!

  loved one! fairest!

  sweet perfection!

  mistress rarest!

  Hear me! come now,

  sit thee here.-

  (Gradually drawsISOLDAto the couch.)

  What a whim!

  what causeless railing!

  How came you so wrong-minded

  and by mere fancy blinded?

  Sir Tristan gives thee

  Cornwall's kingdom;

  then, were he erst thy debtor,

  how could he reward thee better?

  His noble uncle

  serves he so:

  think too what a gift

  on thee he'd bestow!

  With honor unequalled

  all he's heir to

  at thy feet he seeks to shower,

  to make thee a queenly dower.

  (ISOLDAturns away.)

  If wife he'd make thee

  unto King Mark

  why wert thou in this wise complaining?

  Is he not worth thy gaining?

  Of royal race

  and mild of mood,

  who passes King Mark

  in might and power?

  If a noble knight

  like Tristan serves him,

  who would not but feel elated,

  so fairly to be mated.

  ISOLDA (gazing vacantly before her).

  Glorious knight!

  And I must near him

  loveless ever languish!

  How can I support such anguish?

  BRANGAENA.

  What's this, my lady?

  loveless thou?

  (Approaching coaxingly and kissingISOLDA.)

  Where lives there a man

  would not love thee?

  Who could see Isolda

  And not sink

  at once into bondage blest?

  And if e'en it could be

  any were cold,

  did any magic

  draw him from thee,

  I'd bring the false one

  back to bondage,

  And bind him in links of love.-

  (Secretly and confidentially, close toISOLDA.)

  Mindest thou not

  thy mother's arts?

  Think you that she

  who'd mastered those

  would have sent me o'er the sea,

  without assistance for thee?

  ISOLDA (darkly).

  My mother's rede

  I mind aright,

  and highly her magic

  arts I hold:-

  Vengeance they wreak for wrongs,

  rest give to wounded spirits.-

  Yon casket hither bear.

  BRANGAENA.

  It holds a balm for thee.-

  (She brings forward a small golden coffer, opens it, and points to

  its contents.)

  Thy mother placed inside it

  her subtle magic potions.

  There's salve for sickness

  or for wounds,

  and antidotes

  for deadly drugs.-

  (She takes a bottle.)

  The helpfullest draught

  I hold in here.

  ISOLDA.

  Not so, I know a better.

  I make a mark

  to know it again-

  This draught 'tis I would drain.

  (Seizes flask and shows it.)

  BRANGAENA (recoiling in horror).

  The draught of death!

  (ISOLDAhas risen from the sofa and now hears with increasing dread

  the cries of the sailors.)

  VOICES OF THE CREW (without).

  "Ho! heave ho! hey!

  Reduce the sail!

  The mainsail in!

  Ho! heave ho! hey!"

  ISOLDA.

  Our journey has been swift.

  Woe is me! Near to the land!

  SCENE IV.

  (KURVENALboisterously enters through the curtains.)

  KURVENAL.

  Up, up, ye ladies!

  Look alert!

  Straight bestir you!

  Loiter not,-here is the land!-

  To dame Isolda

  says the servant

  of Tristan,

  our hero true:-

  Behold our flag is flying!

  it waveth landwards aloft:

  in Mark's ancestral castle

  may our approach be seen.

  So, dame Isolda,

  he prays to hasten,

  for land straight to prepare her,

  that thither he may bear her.

  ISOLDA (who has at first cowered and shuddered on hearing the

  message, now speaks calmly and with dignity). My greeting take

  unto your lord

  and tell him what I say now:

  Should he assist to land me

  and to King Mark would he hand me,

  unmeet and unseemly

  were his act,

  the while my pardon

  was not won

  for trespass black and base:

  So bid him seek my grace.

  (KURVENALmakes a gesture of defiance.)

  Now mark me well,

  This message take:-

  Nought will I yet prepare me,

  that he to land may bear me;

  I will not by him be landed,

  nor unto King Mark be handed

  ere granting forgiveness

  and forgetfulness,

  which 'tis seemly

  he should seek:-

  for all his trespass base

  I tender him my grace.

  KURVENAL.

  Be assured,

  I'll bear your words:

  we'll see what he will say!

  (He retires quickly.)

  SCENE V.

  ISOLDA (hurries toBRANGAENAand embraces her vehemently).

  Now farewell, Brangaena!

  Greet ev'ry one,

  Greet my father and mother!

  BRANGAENA.

  What now? what mean'st thou?

  Wouldst thou flee?

  And where must I then follow?

  ISOLDA (checking herself suddenly).

  Here I remain:

  heard you not?

  Tristan will I await.-

  I trust in thee

  to aid in this:

  prepare the true

  cup of peace:

  thou mindest how it is made.

  BRANGAENA.

  What meanest thou?

  ISOLDA (taking a bottle from the coffer).

  This it is!

  From the flask go pour

  this philtre out;

  yon golden goblet 'twill fill.

  BRANGAENA (filled with terror receiving the flask).

  Trust I my wits?

  ISOLDA.

  Wilt thou be true?

  BRANGAENA.

  The draught-for whom?

  ISOLDA. Him who betrayed!

  BRANGAENA. Tristan?

  ISOLDA. Truce he'll drink with me.

  BRANGAENA (throwing herself atISOLDA'S feet). O horror!

  Pity thy handmaid!

  ISOLDA. Pity thou me,

  false-hearted maid!

  Mindest thou not

  my mother's arts?

  Think you that she

  who'd mastered those
/>
  would have sent thee o'er the sea

  without assistance for me?

  A salve for sickness

  doth she offer

  and antidotes

  for deadly drugs:

  for deepest grief

  and woe supreme

  gave she the draught of death.

  Let Death now give her thanks!

  BRANGAENA (scarcely able to control herself). O deepest

  grief!

  ISOLDA. Now, wilt thou obey?

  BRANGAENA. O woe supreme!

  ISOLDA. Wilt thou be true?

  BRANGAENA. The draught?

  KURVENAL (entering). Sir Tristan!

  (BRANGAENArises, terrified and confused. ISOLDAstrives with

  immense effort to control herself.)

  ISOLDA (to Kurvenal). Sir Tristan may approach!

  SCENE VI.

  [KURVENALretires again. BRANGAENA, almost beside herself,

  turns up the stage. ISOLDA, 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]

  (TRISTANenters, and pauses respectfully at the entrance.)

  TRISTAN. Demand, lady,

  what you will.

  ISOLDA. While knowing not

  what my demand is,

  wert thou afraid

  still to fulfil it,

  fleeing my presence thus?

  TRISTAN. Honor

  Held me in awe.

  ISOLDA. Scant honor hast thou

  shown unto me;

  for, unabashed,

  withheldest thou

  obedience unto my call.

  TRISTAN. Obedience 'twas

  forbade me to come.

  ISOLDA. But little I owe

  thy lord, methinks,

  if he allows

  ill manners

  unto his own promised bride.

  TRISTAN. In our land

  it is the law

  that he who fetches

  home the bride

  should stay afar from her.

  ISOLDA. On what account?

  TRISTAN. 'Tis the custom.

  ISOLDA. Being so careful,

  my lord Tristan,

  another custom

  can you not learn?

  Of enemies friends make:

  for evil acts amends make.

  TRISTAN. Who is my foe?

  ISOLDA. Find in thy fears!

  Blood-guilt

  gets between us.

  TRISTAN. That was absolved.

  ISOLDA. Not between us.

  TRISTAN. In open field,

  'fore all the folk

  our old feud was abandoned.

  ISOLDA. 'Twas not there

  I held Tantris hid

  when Tristan was laid low,

  He stood there brawny,

  bright and brave;

  but in his truce

  I took no part:

  my tongue its silence had learnt.

  When in chambered stillness

  sick he lay

  with the sword I stood

  before him, stern;

  silent-my lips,

  motionless-my hand.

  But that which my hand

  and lips had once vowed,

  I swore in stealth to adhere to:

  lo! now my desire I'm near to.

  TRISTAN. What hast thou sworn?

  ISOLDA (quickly). Vengeance for Morold!

  TRISTAN (quietly). Mindst thou that?

  ISOLDA (animated). Dare you to flout me?-

  Was he not my betrothed,

  that noble Irish knight?

  For his sword a blessing I sought;

  for me only he fought.

  When he was murdered

  no honor fell.

  In that heartfelt misery

  my vow was framed;

  if no man remained to right it,

  I, a maid, must needs requite it.-

  Weak and maimed,

  when might was mine,

  why at thy death did I pause?

  Thou shalt know the secret cause.-

  Thy hurts I tended

  that, when sickness ended,

  thou shouldst fall by some man,

  as Isolda's revenge should plan.

  But now attempt

  thy fate to foretell me?

  if their friendship all men do sell thee,

  what foe can seek to fell thee?

  TRISTAN (pale and gloomy, offers her his sword). If

  thou so lovedst this lord,

  then lift once more my sword,

  nor from thy purpose refrain;

  let the weapon not fail again.

  ISOLDA. Put up thy sword

  which once I swung,

  when vengeful rancor

  my bosom wrung,

  when thy masterful eyes

  did ask me straight

  whether King Mark

  might seek me for mate.

  The sword harmless descended.-

  Drink, let our strife be ended!

  (ISOLDAbeckonsBRANGAENA. She trembles and hesitates to

  obey. ISOLDAcommands her with a more imperious gesture.

  BRANGAENA sets about preparing the drink.)

  VOICES OF THE CREW (without). Ho! heave ho! hey!

  Reduce the sail!

  The foresail in!

  Ho! heave ho! hey!

  TRISTAN (starting from his gloomy brooding). Where

  are we?

  ISOLDA. Near to shore.

  Tristan, is warfare ended?

  Hast not a word to offer?

  TRISTAN (darkly). Concealment's mistress

  makes me silent:

  I know what she conceals,

  conceal, too, more than she knows.

  ISOLDA. Thy silence nought

  but feigning I deem.

  Friendship wilt thou still deny?

  (Renewed cries of the Sailors.)

  (At an impatient sign fromISOLDABRANGAENAhands

  her the filled cup.)

  ISOLDA (advancing with the cup toTRISTAN, who gazes

  immovably into her eyes).

  Thou hear'st the cry?

  The shore's in sight:

  we must ere long (with slight scorn)

  stand by King Mark together.

  SAILORS (without). Haul the warp!

  Anchor down!

  TRISTAN (starting wildly). Down with the anchor!

  Her stern to the stream!

  The sails a-weather the mast!

  (He takes the cup fromISOLDA.)

  I know the Queen

  of Ireland well,

  unquestioned are

  her magic arts:

  the balsam cured me

  which she brought;

  now bid me quaff the cup,

  that I may quite recover.

  Heed to my all-

  atoning oath,

  which in return I tender

  Tristan's honor-

  highest truth!

  Tristan's anguish-

  brave distress!

  Traitor spirit,

  dawn-illumined!

  Endless trouble's

  only truce!

  Oblivion's kindly draught,

  with rapture thou art quaff'd!

  (He lifts the cup and drinks.)

  ISOLDA. Betrayed e'en here?

  I must halve it!-

  (She wrests the cup from his hand.)

  Betrayer, I drink to thee!

  [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 glance
s again seek to meet, sink in confusion, and once

  more turn with growing longing upon one another.]

  ISOLDA (with trembling voice). Tristan!

  TRISTAN (overpowered). Isolda!

  ISOLDA (sinking upon his breast). Traitor beloved!

  TRISTAN. Woman divine!

  (He embraces her with ardor. They remain in a silent embrace.)

  ALL THE MEN (without). Hail! Hail!

  Hail our monarch!

  Hail to Mark, the king!

  BRANGAENA (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). Woe's me! Woe's me!

  Endless mis'ry

  I have wrought

  instead of death!

  Dire the deed

  of my dull fond heart:

  it cries aloud to heav'n!

  (They start from their embrace.)

  TRISTAN (bewildered). What troubled dream

  of Tristan's honor?

  ISOLDA. What troubled dream

  Of Isolda's shame?

  TRISTAN. Have I then lost thee?

  ISOLDA. Have I repulsed thee?

  TRISTAN. Fraudulent magic,

  framing deceit!

  BOTH. Languishing passion,

  longing and growing,

  love ever yearning,

  loftiest glowing!

  Rapture confess'd

  rides in each breast!

  Isolda! Tristan!

  Tristan! Isolda!

  World, I can shun thee

  my love is won me!

  Thou'rt my thought, all above:

  highest delight of love!

  SCENE VII.

 

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