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Tristan - Tenor King Mark - Bass Isolde - Soprano Kurwenal - Baritone Melot - Tenor Brangaene - Soprano A young Saylor - Tenor A Shepherd - Tenor A Steersman - Baritone Saylors, Knights and Squires Scene of the action Act One: At sea, on the deck of Tristan's ship, during the crossing from Ireland to Cornwall. Act Two: In Marke's royal castle in Cornwall. Act Three: Tristan's castle in Brittany. PRELUDE SCENE ONE Isolde. Brangaene. (Voice of a young sailor) (Tent-like cabin on the fore-deck of a sea-going ship, richly hung with tapestries, at first drawn together upstage; at one side a narrow companion-way leads down to the lower deck of the ship. Isolde on a couch, her face hidden in the cushions. Brangaene, holding a curtain to one side, looking over the rail out to sea) VOICE OF A YOUNG SAILOR (heard from a height, as if from the masthead) Westwards the gaze wanders; eastwards skims the ship. Fresh the wind blows towards home: my Irish child, where are you now? Is it your wafting sighs that swell my sails? Blow, blow, you wind! Ah, alas, my child! Irish girl, you wild, adorable girl! ISOLDE (sturting up sharply) Who dares to mock me? (She looks about her, distractedly) Brangaene, you? Tell me, where are we? BRANGAENE (at the opening) Blue shadows are rising up in the east; smoothly and swiftly the ship sails on: on a calm sea, before evening, we shall safely reach land. ISOLDE Which land? BRANGAENE Cornwall's green coast. ISOLDE Never! Not today, not tomorrow! BRANGAENE (lets the curtain fall back and hurries anxiously to Isolde) What are you saying? My mistress! Ah! ISOLDE (with suppressed rage) Degenerate race! Unworthy of your ancestors! How, o Mother, did you dispose of the power of ruling sea and tempest? O feeble art of the sorceress, still cooking up curative potions! Be stirred in me once again, bold power; rise up from my breast where you have lain concealed! Give ear to my will, half-hearted winds! Off to battle and turbulent elements! To the furious vortex of raging tempests! Shake from her slumber this somnolent sea, awaken from her depths her malevolent greed! Show her the prize that I have to offer! Let her smash this insolent ship and gorge on her shattered wreckage! And whatever has life on her, that faint breath I leave as reward for you winds! BRANGAENE (in utmost terror, anxiously attending Isolde) Alas! Ah! Ah! The evil that I foresaw! Isolde! My lady! Dear heart! What have you been keeping from me for so long? Not a tear did you shed for father and mother; scarcely a parting word did you have for those left behind. Leaving your homeland, cold and mute, pale and silent on the voyage; without food, without sleep, numb and wretched, wild and distraught. How could I bear to see you thus, to mean nothing to you, to stand before you as a stranger? Oh tell me now what troubles you! Let me know what is tormenting you! My lady Isolde, dearest beloved! If she is to hold herself of worth in your eyes, place your trust in Brangaene now. ISOLDE Air! Air! My heart is stifled! Open up! Open wide there! (Brangaene quickly draws back the centre custain) SCENE TWO The previous characters. Tristan. Kurwenal. Sailors. Knights and Squires. (The length of the ship can be seen as far as the helm and over the stern out to sea towards the horizon. Sitting on deck around the main mast are sailors working on the rigging lines; beyond them, on the poop, can be seen knights and squires at rest; at some distance from them stands Tristan, his arms folded, gazing pensively out to sea; at his feet reclines Kurwenal, relaxed.) From above, from the masthead we hear again the VOICE OF THE YOUNG SAILOR Freshly the wind blows towards home: my Irish child, where are you now? Is it your wafting sighs that swell my sails? Blow, blow, you wind! Ah, alas, my child! ISOLDE (whose gaze immediatly falls on Tristan, and remains coldly fixed on him, to herself in a hollow voice) Chosen for me, lost to me, splendid and strong, bold and cowardly! Head destined for death! Heart destined for death! (to Brangaene, with a dismal laugh) What do you think of the upstart? BRANGAENE (following her gaze) Whom do you mean? ISOLDE The hero there, diverting his gaze from mine, in shame and awe his eyes cast down. Tell me, how does he strike you? BRANGAENE Do you mean Tristan, dear lady, the marvel of all kingdoms, supremely acclaimed above all others, the hero without peer, the shield and guardian of reputation? ISOLDE (mocking her) Who timidly flees from the blow whenever he can, because he has won a corpse as a bride for his master! Do you think it sinister, my tale? Ask him yourself, then, the free man, whether he dares to approach me! This bashful hero forgets the correct address demanded by honour and well-bred attention to his mistress, lest her gaze fall upon him, the hero without peer. Oh, he knows well why! To the proud one go and tell him what your mistress says: ready to attend me, he is to come to me at once. BRANGAENE Am I to ask him to bid you greeting? ISOLDE Let my command teach the vainglorious one to fear his mistress, Isolde! (At Isolde's premptory wave Brangaene withdraws and, abashed, walks along the deck, past the crew at their work, to the helm. Isolde, following her with a wild gaze, moves back towards the couch, where she remains seated during the following action, her eyes unswervingly fixed on the helm) KURWENAL (who sees Brangaene coming, tugs, without getting up, at Tristan's garment) Watch out, Tristan, an envoy from Isolde. TRISTAN (starting up) What? Isolde? (He quickly composes himself and Brangaene comes up to him and makes obeisance) From my lady? What has the faithful maid, obedient to her, courteously come to tell me? BRANGAENE Tristan, my lord, to see you is the wish of Isolde, my lady. TRISTAN If the long voyage irks her, it is near its end! Before the sun sets we shall reach land. May whatever my lady commands be faithfully carried out. BRANGAENE Lord Tristan is to go to her, that is my lady's will. TRISTAN There where the green pastures still appear blue to the eye, my King is waiting for my lady; to escort her to him I shall soon approach the radiant one: to none other would I grant this grace. BRANGAENE My lord. Tristan, listen well. The lady requires you to attend her, and to proceed to where she awaits you. TRISTAN On this spot where I am standing I serve her faithfully, the most honourable lady; were I to leave the helm at this very hour, how could I safely steer the craft to King Mark's land? BRANGAENE Tristan, my lord, why do you mock me? If the foolish maid cannot make it clear, then hear my lady's words! Thus, she said, I should speak to you: Let her command teach the vainglorious one to fear his mistress, Isolde! KURWENAL (leaping up) Can I give her her answer? TRISTAN (gently) What would your answer be? KURWENAL Let her say this to the lady Isolde! He who Cornwall's crown and England's succession bestows upon the Irish girl, he cannot be in thrall to the maid, he who gives her to his uncle. A lord of the world, Tristan the hero! That's my call, that's what you'll say, though a thousand Lady Isoldes should vent their rage upon me! (As Tristan tries to subdue him by gestures, and Brangaene indignantly turns to leave, Kurwenal sings after her with full voice as she slowly moves away) "Lord Morold went off to sea to exact tribute in Cornwall; an island floats in the desolate seas, there he now lies buried! But his head is hanging in Ireland as tribute paid to England: hail to our hero, Tristan, he knows how to exact tribute!" (Kurwenal, rebuked by Tristan, has climbed down below deck; Brangaene has returned to Isolde in dismay and closed the curtain behind her, while outside the whole crew can be heard) CREW "But his head is hanging in Ireland as tribute paid by England: hail to our hero, Tristan, he knows how to exact tribute!" SCENE THREE (Isolde and Brangaene alone, all the curtains closed again. Isolde stands up with a gesture of hopeless rage. Brangaene falls at her feet) BRANGAENE Ah! Alas! To suffer this! ISOLDE (on the point of a fearful outburst, quickly pulls herself together) Now, what of Tristan? I want to know exactly! BRANGAENE Ah! do not ask! ISOLDE Tell me freely, without fear! BRANGAENE With courtly expressions he evaded my words. ISOLDE But when you warned him clearly? BRANGAENE When I called him here to you, where he was standing, he said, he served you faithfully, the most honourable lady; were he to leave the helm at this very hour, how could he safely steer the craft to King Mark's land? ISOLDE (bitter and hurt) How could he safely steer the craft to King Mark's land? (harshly and violently) To hand over to him the tribute that he exacted from Ireland! BRANGAENE At your own words, when I repeated them to him, his servant Kurwenal... ISOLDE I heard him, not a word escaped me. If you sensed my disgrace, hear now what it meant for me. As they mockingly sing behind my back, well might I make reply about a boat which, small and frail, drifted along the irish coast. In it a sick and ailing man lay miserably dying. Isolde's crafts became known to him; with healing ointments and soothing lotions, the wound which tormented him she faithfully nursed. He who with sly cunning called himself "Tantris" Isolde soon recognised as Tristan since in his sword, as he lay there, she perceived a notch into which, as she found with nimble fingers, there fitted exactly a splinter which once, in the head of the Irish knight, had been sent back to mock her. Then a cry awoke from the depths of my heart! With the gleaming sword I stood before him, ready to averge on him, the presumptuous one, Lord Morold's death. From his bed, he looked up - not at the sword, not at my hand - he gazed into my eyes. His wretchedness tormented me! The sword - I dropped it! The wound that Morold smote, I healed it so that he recovered and returned home... do not accuse me with such a look! BRANGAENE How strange! Where were my eyes? The guest that once I helped to nurse? ISOLDE You have just heard his praises: "Hey! Our Lord Tristan!" He was that pathetic man. With a thousand oaths he swore to me eternal gratitude and loyalty. Hear now how a hero keeps his oath! He whom, as Tantris, I let go unidentified, as Tristan boldly soon returned; on a proud ship, from a lofty deck he demanded the Irish successor as a bride for Cornwall's feeble king, for Mark, his uncle. If Morold were alive, who would ever have dared to bring such shame upon us? For this vassal prince of the Cornish to suit for the crown of Ireland! Ah, I am lost! Yes, I it was who, in secret, brought the shame upon myself! The avenging sword, instead of wielding it, I impotently let it fall! Now I am in the vassal's bondage! BRANGAENE When peace, reconciliation and amity were sworn by all, we hailed the happy day. How could I have foreseen that it would cause you such grief? ISOLDE Oh blind eyes! Credulous heart! Despairing silence, feeble courage! How differently Tristan paraded what I had kept concealed! She who in silence gave him his life, from the enemy's fury quietly hid him, who silently lent her sanctuary to save him, both her and all that he abandoned! Boasting of victory, glorious and bold, loud and clear he pointed to me: "There's a treasure, my lord and uncle; how about that for a wife? This trim Irish girl I'll bring back to you; knowing well the way, with a wave I was off to Ireland; Isolde - she's yours! What a splendid bit of adventure!" Curse you, vile creature, a curse upon your head! Vengeance! Death! Death for us both! BRANGAENE (impetuously and tenderly embracing Isolde) O sweet one, beloved! Dearest! Beautiful one! Golden mistress! Dear Isolde! (She gradually draws Isolde to the couch) Listen to me! Come! Sit here! What madness! What vain anger! How can you be so confused as not to see or hear clearly? What Lord Tristan ever owed you, how better could he repay it than with the most splendid of crowns? Thus could he loyally serve his noble uncle. To you he gave the world's most desirable prize - his own inheritance, nobly and in good faith; he relinquished it at your feet to hail you as Queen! (Isolde turns aside) And if he secured Mark as a husband for you, why did you scorn the choice? Can you not see its value? Of noble blood and gentle disposition, who can compare with the man in power and glory? He whom a bold hero so faithfully serves, who might not share his fortune and live beside him as his wife? ISOLDE (gazing ahead wildly) Unloved, always seeing near me that splendid man! How could I bear the torment? BRANGAENE What are you thinking of, wicked girl? Unloved, always? (She comes close, reassuring and embracing Isolde) Where is the man who would not love you? who could see Isolde and not be blissfully consumed in Isolde? But he who chose you, however cold he might be, or if a spell had turned him from you, I would know how to constrain him. The power of love would constrain him (secretively and confidentially to Isolde) Do you not know our mother's craft? Do you imagine that she, who considers everything, would have sent me away with you without means of help into foregin land? ISOLDE (darkly) My mother's advice is good counsel; gladly I recognise the worth of her craft. Vengeance for the treachery! Easement for the heart's distress! Fetch me that chest over there! BRANGAENE What it contains will bring you relief. (She fetches a small golden chest, opens it and shows its contents) In this your mother arranged the powerful magic draughts. For pain and wounds here is ointment; for evil poisons antidote (She draws out a flask) The finest draught I keep here. ISOLDE You are wrong, I know better; I placed a clear sign upon it. (She takes a flash and shows it) This is the potion that I need! BRANGAENE (starts back, horrified) The death potion! (Isolde has got up from the couch, and with growing terror hears the shouts of the crew) CREW (off) Ho! hey! ha! hey! Lower mast, take in sail! Ho! hey! ha! hey! ISOLDE That means a swift voyage. Wretched that I am! Near to land! SCENE FOUR The previous characters and Kurwenal (Kurwenal enters boisterously through the curtains) KURWENAL Up! Up, you ladies! Lively and cheerful! Make ready! Come along, smartly now! (more formally) And to Lady Isolde I am to say from Tristan the hero, my lord: From the mast the festive flag is fluttering merrily towards land; in Mark's royal castle it announces its approach. He therefore requests Lady Isolde to hurry and to prepare for landing so that he may escort her. ISOLDE (after at first shrinking back in fear at the message, composes herself and, with dignity) Convey to Lord Tristan my greetings, and tell him what I say: If I am to walk at his side to stand before King Mark, it would not be done with due propriety and custom unless I received restitution in advance for guilt still unatoned. Let him then seek my grace. (Kurwenal grimaces sourly. Isolde continues, more forcefully) Mark it well and report it true! I will not make ready to accompany him ashore, I shall not walk at his side to stand before King Mark; he must first seek forgiveness and forgetting, according to propriety and custom, for unatoned guilt. Such my grace would grant him! KURWENAL You may be sure I shall tell him that; now wait to hear how he receives it! (He returns quikly to Tristan. Isolde hurries to Brangaene and embraces her impetuously) ISOLDE Now farewell, Brangaene! Bid the world farewell for me, bid my mother and father farewell! BRANGAENE What is this? What are you thinking of? Do you intend to flee? Whither am I to follow you? ISOLDE (quickly composes herself) Did you nor hear me? I shall stay here and wait for Tristan. Faithfully carry out my orders, the draught of reconciliation - prepare it quickly; you know, the one I showed you? (She takes the flask from the chest) BRANGAENE Which draught? ISOLDE This draught! Pour it out into the golden goblet; it will hold it all. BRANGAENE (in fear and trembling taking the flask) Can I belive it? ISOLDE Be faithful to me! BRANGAENE That draught - for whom? ISOLDE Let him who betrayed me... BRANGAENE Tristan? ISOLDE ...drink reconciliation! BRANGAENE (falling at Isolde's feet) Horror! Have pity on me, poor wretch! ISOLDE (violently) You should pity me, faithless maid! Do you not know my mother's craft? Do you imagine that she, who considers everything, would have sent me away with you without means of help into a foregin land? For pain and wounds she gave ointment, for evil potions antidote; For sharpest pain, for extreme anguish she gave the death potion. Let Death now thank her. BRANGAENE (almost fainting) Oh deepest woe! ISOLDE Will you obey me now? BRANGAENE Oh utmost grief! ISOLDE Will you be faithful to me? BRANGAENE That draught? KURWENAL (enters) Lord Tristan! (Brangaene rises, horrified and confused. Isolde tries, with great strain, to compose herself) ISOLDE (to Kurwenal) Let Lord Tristan approach! SCENE FIVE Tristan. Isolde. Brangaene. Then Kurwenal, Saylors, Knights and Squires (Kurwenal withdraws. Brangaene, almost fainting, moves upstage. Isolde, summoning up all her strength for the crisis, moves slowly and with great dignity towards the couch and, leaning against it, fixes her gaze on the entrance. - Tristan enters and waits respectfully at the entrance. - Isolde, terribly agitated, is lost in beholding him. - Long silence) TRISTAN Demand, my lady, what you wish. ISOLDE Surely you knew what I demanded when the fear of fulfilling it kept you from my sight? TRISTAN Respect held me in awe. ISOLDE You showed me little enough respect; with blatant mockery you refused to obey my command. TRISTAN Obedience alone constrained me. ISOLDE I have little to thank your master for; does his service require ill-manners towards his bride? TRISTAN Manners teach, where I come from, that on a courtship voyage the suitor should stay apart from the bride. ISOLDE For what reason? TRISTAN Look to manners! ISOLDE Since you are so mannerly, my lord Tristan, let me remind you of more manners; to be reconcilied with an enemy he must regard you as a friend. TRISTAN Which enemy? ISOLDE Ask your own fear! A debt of blood exists between us! TRISTAN It was atoned. ISOLDE Not between us! TRISTAN In an open field, before all the people, the peace was sworn. ISOLDE It was not there that I hid Tantris, and had Tristan in my power. There he stood, glorious, bold and strong; but what he swore I did not swear; I had learned to keep silent. When in my quiet chamber he lay sick, and I stood quietly before him with the sword, my lips were silent, I held my hand - but what once with my hands and lips I praised I swore to keep silent. Now I will discharge my oath! TRISTAN What oath did you take, my lady? ISOLDE Vengeance for Morold! TRISTAN Does that concern you? ISOLDE Do you dare mock? He was betrothed to me, the bold Irish hero. I had blessed his weapons, for me he went into battle. When he fell my honour fell too. With heavy heart I took the oath, swearing that if a man did not atone for his murder, I, the maid, would venture to do so. Sickly and feeble, in my power, why did I not strike you down then? You know well why that was so. I nursed his wounds so that, restored to strength, he would be slain in vengeance by that man who had won Isolde from him. But now you yourself can speak your lot! Since all men have bound themselves to him, who now has to slay Tristan? TRISTAN (pale and gloomy) If Morold meant so much to you, now take the sword again and wield it sure and strong so that it does not fall from your hand. (He proffers her his sword) ISOLDE What scant regard I should have for your Lord; what would King Mark say were I to slay his finest vassal who won for him crown and lands, that most faithful man? Do you value so lightly what he owes you, bringing the irish maid to him as his bride? Would he not reproach me if I slew the suitor who so faithfully delivered into his hands the treaty's bond? Put up your sword! When I wielded it before, when vengeance tore at my breast, when your measuring gaze stole my likeness, to see if I would suit King Mark as a wife, the sword - I let it sink. Let us now drink reconciliation! (She makes a sign to Brangaene. Brangaene shudders, wavers and hesitates. Isolde urges her on with more emphatic gestures. Brangaene turns to prepare the draught) CREW (from outside) Ho! hey! ha! hey! Upper mast, take in sail! Ho! hey! ha! hey! TRISTAN (starting out of gloomy broodings) Where are we? ISOLDE Hard by our goal! Tristan, do I win reconciliation? What have you to say to me? TRISTAN (darkly) The mistress of silence bids me say nothing. If I grasp what she concealed, I shall conceal what she does not grasp. ISOLDE I can grasp your silence! You are evading me. Do you refuse to make atonement? (New cries of sailors) (At Isolde's emphatic gesture, Brangaene hands her the filled goblet) ISOLDE (going over with the goblet to Tristan, who gazes coldly into her eyes) Can you hear their cries? We have arrived. Before long we still be standing before King Mark. When you escort me, would it not be good if you were to speak to him thus: "My lord and uncle, look upon her. A more gentle wife you would never have won. Her betrothed I once slew, his head I sent home to her. The wounds which his arms inflicted she tenderly healed. My life lay in her power; the gentle maid gave it to me, and her land's shame and disgrace she gave me with it, to be your consort. Gracious thanks for such sweet gifts were awakened in me by a sweet draught of reconciliation. In it was contained her grace which absolved me from all guilt." CREW (off) Haul away! Anchor away! TRISTAN (staring up wildly) Anchor away! Into the tide! Sails and mast to the wind! (He seizes the goblet from her) Well I know Ireland's queen and the wondrous power of her craft. I used the ointment that she offered. I shall take the goblet that I may be fully cleansed. And witness too the oath of reconciliation which I take, in gratitude to you. Tristan's honour, utter loyalty! Tristan's misery, keenest defiance! Heart's deceit, wishful dreaming! The only consolation in eternal mourning. Beneficent draught of forgetsulness, I drain you unweaveringly! (He takes the goblet and drinks) ISOLDE Treachery here too? Half is mine! (She snatches the goblet) Traitor! I drink to you! (She drinks. Then she throws the goblet aside. In the grip of terror, they gaze steadily into each other's eyes in utmost agitation, but unmoving. In their eyes deadly defiance gives way to the glow of love. They are seized with trembling. They clutch convulsively at their hearts and raise their hands to their heads. Then their eyes seek out one another, are cast down again in confusion, and meet again with growing desire) ISOLDE (her voice trembling) Tristan! TRISTAN (overcome) Isolde! ISOLDE (sinking on his breast) Faithless darling! TRISTAN (ardently embracing her) Blessed lady! (They remain in silent embrace) (In the distance trumpets are heard) MEN'S VOICE Hail! Hail King Mark! BRANGAENE (looking away in confusion and terror, has leaned over the rail, now turns to see the couple clasped in a loving embrace and moves downstage, wringing her hands in despair) Ah! Alas! Inescapable eternal misery instead of an early death! The deceiving effects of foolish loyalty now bear their miserable fruit. (Tristan and Isolde start out of their embrace) TRISTAN (bewildered) What was my dream of Tristan's honour? ISOLDE What was my dream of Isolde's disgrace? TRISTAN You lost to me? ISOLDE You rejecting me? TRISTAN Deceitful magic's sly cunning! ISOLDE Foolish anger's vain threats. TRISTAN Isolde! ISOLDE Tristan! TRISTAN Sweetest girl! ISOLDE Dearest man! TOGETHER How our hearts are borne aloft! How all our senses pulsate with bliss! Longing devotion's burgeoning blossoms, yearning love's blessed glow! My breast bursting with exultant delight! Isolde! Tristan! Broken free of the world, won for me! You my only awareness, utmost rapture of love! (The curtains are pulled apart, the whole ship is crowded with knights and sailors waving joyfully over the side towards the shore which can be seen close by, with a high, rocky fortress. Tristan and Isolde remain lost in gazing at one another, unaware of what is happening arounf them) BRANGAENE (to the ladies who, at her command, have come up from below deck) Quickly, the mantle here, the royal raiment! (rushing between Tristan and Isolde) Hapless ones! Come! Listen, don't you hear where we are? (She places the royal mantle about Isolde, who does not notice it) ALL THE MEN Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail to King Mark! Long live the King! KURWENAL (entering briskly) Hail Tristan, fortunate hero! With a splendid retinue there, on the boat, Lord Mark is approaching. Ah, how the journey delights him, winning a bride. TRISTAN (bewildered, looking up) Who is approaching? KURWENAL The King! TRISTAN Which King? (Kurwenal points over the side) ALL THE MEN (waving their caps) Hail! Hail King Mark! (Tristan stares blankly at the shore) ISOLDE (confused) What is it, Brangaene? What are they calling out? BRANGAENE Isolde, my lady, Compose yourself, if only for today! ISOLDE Where am I? Am I alive? Ah! What was that draught? BRANGAENE (in despair) The love potion. ISOLDE (stares at Tristan, horrified) Tristan! TRISTAN Isolde! ISOLDE Must I live on? (She falls on his breast, unconscious) BRANGAENE (to the ladies) Help our mistress! TRISTAN Oh spiteful bliss! Oh happiness in thrall to deceit! ALL THE MEN (breaking into general rejoicing) Cornwall! Hail! (Trumpets from the shore) (People have climbed aboard, others have put out the gangplank, and the general activity indicates the immediately awaited arrival of the King's train, as the curtain quickly falls) PRELUDE SCENE ONE Isolde. Brangaene. (A garden with tall trees in front of Isolde's apartments with steps leading up to it at one side. A clear, pleasant summer's night. At the open door is placed a burning torch. Sounds of hunting. Brangaene, on the steps to the apartments, looks out after the hunting party as their sounds fade away into the distance. Isolde comes out of the apartments in wild agitation and comes up to her) ISOLDE Can you still hear them? Thay are out of my hearing already. BRANGAENE (listening) They are still near; I can hear them clearly. ISOLDE (listening) Anxious fears confuse your ear. You are misled by the grove's whisperings, laughingly rustling in the wind. BRANGAENE You are misled by your impetuous desires into hearing what you imagine. (She listens) I can hear the horns calling. ISOLDE (listening again) The calling of horns does not sound so sweet, it is the stream's gently murmuring waves flowing along so gaily. How could I hear that if horns were still calling? In the still of the night it is just stream that laughs with me. He who is waiting for me in the silence of the night, as if horns still sounded nearby, do you want to keep him for me? BRANGAENE He who is waiting for you - oh, listen to my warning - spies lie in wait for him at night! Because you are so blinded do you imagine that the sight of the world has been dimmed for you too? When, on board ship, from Tristan's trembling hand the pallid bride, scarcely conscious, was received by King Mark, when everybody bemusedly watched her wavering there, the kingly King, with gentle concern, loudly bewailed the trials of the voyage which you had undergone. But there was one, as I clearly perceived, who looked only into Tristan's eyes. With a threatening gaze full of malevolent guile he sought to find in his expression whatever would serve his purpose. Spitefully listening I have often found him. Of him who secretly sets snares for you both, of Melot, be warned! ISOLDE Do you mean Lord Melot? Oh, how mistaken you are! Is he not Tristan's dearest friend? If my beloved cannot be with me, then he is only in Melot's company. BRANGAENE What makes me suspect him makes him dear to you! From Tristan to Mark is Melot's path: there he sows malignant seeds. Those who decided today on this night hunt, so promptly and quickly planned, have a nobler quarry than you imagine as the target of their huntsmen's cunning. ISOLDE For his friend's sake, out of sympathy, Melot his friend managed this ruse. Do you now scold this faithful friend? Better than you does he care for me; to him he opens up what you bar to me. Oh, spare me the distress of further delay! The signal, Brangaene! Oh, give the signal! Extinguish the light's last glimmer! That it may fall completely, give Night its signal! Already its silence has flowed through the groves and the house, already it fills the heart with ecstatic terror! Oh, extinguish the light now, extinguish its dread rays! Let my beloved come! BRANGAENE Oh, leave the warning flame, let it show you the danger! Ah, alas! How wretched I am! The hapless potion! That, unfaithful just once, I betrayed my mistress's will! Had I obeyed, deaf and blind, your work would have been death! But your disgrace, your ignominious distress are my work, and I, the guilty one, must know it! ISOLDE Your work! Oh, foolish maid! Do you not know the Love Spirit, not know her magic's power? The Queen of boldest courage, Regent of the world's course? Love and Death are subject to her, she weaves them out of bliss and sorrow, transmuting envy into love. Death's work, upon which I audaciously embarked, the Love Spirit wrested it from my power. She took the girl destined for death under her sway and took her work into her own hands. However she performed it, however she completes it, wherever she may choose for me, wherever she may lead me, I became subject to her. Now let me display my obedience! BRANGAENE And if Love's spiteful draught must extinguish the light of reason, if you cannot see when I warn you, then now, this once, hear my plea! The gleaming signal of danger, oh, not now, do not extinguish the torch now! ISOLDE She kindled the glow in my breast, she makes my heart burn, like Day, she laughs in my soul. The will of the Love Spirit is - let it be night, that brightly she may shine forth, (She hurries to the torch) where she shuns your light! (She takes the torch from the doorway) To the tower with you! Keep careful watch! This light, were it the light of my life, laughing, I do not hesitate to extinguish it. (She throws the torch to the ground where it gradually dies out) (Brangaene turns away in dismay to climb an outside stairway to the tower, where she gradually disappears from sight) (Isolde listens and looks, timidly at first, along an avenue of trees. Moved by a growing desire she approaches the trees and looks more carefully. She waves with a kerchief, a little at first, then, with passionate impatience, more and more quickly) (A gesture of sudden delight proclaims that she has noticed her beloved in the distance. She stands on tip-toe, and, in order to see further, hurries back to the steps, from the top of which she waves to the approaching figure) SCENE TWO Tristan and Isolde TRISTAN (rushes in) Isolde! Beloved! ISOLDE (leaping towards him) Tristan! Beloved! (In a passionate embrace they move downstage) ISOLDE Are you mine? TRISTAN With me once more? ISOLDE Dare I hold you? TRISTAN Can I belive it? ISOLDE At last! At last! TRISTAN On my breast! ISOLDE Is it really you I feel? TRISTAN Is it you I see? ISOLDE These your eyes? TRISTAN This your mouth? ISOLDE Here your hand? TRISTAN Here your heart? ISOLDE Is it I? Is it you? You, clasped in my arms? TRISTAN Is it I? Is it you? No illusion? TOGETHER Not a dream? O heart's rapture, o sweet, most sublime, boldest, loveliest, most blessed joy! TRISTAN Without equal! ISOLDE Overflowing! TRISTAN Replete with bliss! ISOLDE Eternal! TRISTAN Eternal! ISOLDE Never dreamt of! Never yet known! TRISTAN Boundlessly exalted and sublime! ISOLDE Joyous exulting! TRISTAN Blisful delight! ISOLDE Heaven-high soaring beyond the world! My Tristan mine! Mine and yours! Ever, ever one! TRISTAN Heaven-high soaring beyond the world! My Isolde mine! Mine and yours! Ever, ever one! ISOLDE For how long away! Away for so long! TRISTAN How far yet so near! So near yet how far! ISOLDE O enemy of friends, evil distance! Drawn-out time's lingering expanse! TRISTAN O distance and nearness, sternly parted! Sweet nearness! Desolate distance! ISOLDE You in darkness, I in light! TRISTAN The light! The light! Oh, this light, how long before it was extinguished! The sun set, Day ran its course but it would not stifle its spite: lighting its dread signal it places it at the loved one's door so that I might not go to her. ISOLDE But the loved one's hand extinguished the light; what the maid would not risk I did not fear: under the power and protection of the Love-Spirit I bade defiance to Day! TRISTAN Day! For Day, for spiteful Day, the most bitter foe, hatred and grievance! Just as you extinguished the light, would that I could extinguish the light of insolent Day to avenge the pangs of love! Is there any distress, is there any anguish which it does not revive with its beams? Even in Night's darkling glory my beloved harbours it in her house, letting its threatening beams fall towards me. ISOLDE Is your beloved keeps it in her own house, so did my love once defiantly foster it in his heart, bright and devious: Tristan, he that betrayed me! Was it not Day that made him false when he came to Ireland as a suitor to court me for King Mark, to dedicate loyalty to Death? TRISTAN Day! Day! Which shimmered round about you, to there where she seemed like the sun in highest honour's radiant glow, Isolde withdrew from me! That which so delighted my eye made my heart sink to the depths of the earth: in the bright light of Day how could Isolde be mine? ISOLDE Was she not yours, she that chose you? What lies did evil Day tell you that you betrayed your dearest, she that was destined to be yours? TRISTAN In the grip of madness I could not but yeld my heart to that which shimmered round about you in majestic splendour, the glitter of honour and the power of renown. Day's bright orb of worldly honour, shining upon me with the brightest radiant glow, penetrated my head with its beams of vain bliss and reached the deepest recesses of my heart. What lay there darkly concealed in chaste night, what I dimly perceived, not knowing, not imagining; a form, which my eyes could not believe they saw, caught in the light of Day, lay there gleaming before me. Before the whole throng I praised in clear tones what seemed to me so glorious and sublime; before all the people I extolled aloud the loveliest royal bride on earth. I bade defiance to the envy which Day awakened in me, to the zeal which threatened my happiness, to the jealousy which began to make honour and fame a burden to me, and firmly resolved to uphold honour and glory, to go to Ireland. ISOLDE O vain thrall of Day! Deceived by that which deceived you, how I, loving you, suffered on your account; caught in Day's false glitter, in the snare of its cunning, in the depths of my heart, where burning love encompassed him, I hated him bitterly. Ah, what piercing pain in the recesses of my heart! How hard he whom I secretly harboured there must have thought me when, in the light of Day my faithfully cherished one vanished to loving eyes and stood before me only as a foe! From the light of Day which made you appear to me a traitor I wished to flee into Night, to take you with me, where my heart would bid me end all deception, where the vain premonition of treachery might be dispelled, there to pledge to you eternal love, to consecrate you to Death in company with myself. TRISTAN When I recognised sweet death offered to me at your hand; when a bold and clear presentiment showed me what expiation demanded; there dawned gently in my heart the lofty power of Night; my Day was then accomplished. ISOLDE Alas, you were confused by the deceiving potion so that once again Night eluded you: as you faced only death, it restored you to Day! TRISTAN Hail to the potion! Hail to the draught! Hail to its magic's sublime power! Through Death's portals wide and open it flowed towards me opening up the wondrous realm of Night where I had only been in dreams. From the image in my heart's sheltering cell it repelled day's deceiving beams, so that in darkness my eyes might serve to see it clearly. ISOLDE Yet banished Day avenged itself; with yours sins it took counsel; what darkling Night showed you you had to surrender to the regal power of the Day-star, to live alone, gleaming there in solitary splendour. How could I bear it? How can I endure it now? TRISTAN Oh, now we were dedicated to Night! Spiteful Day with ready envy could part us with its tricks but no longer mislead us with guile. Its vain glory, its flaunting display are mocked by those to whom Night has granted sight. The fleeting flashes of its flickering light no longer dazzle us. Before him who has seen with love death's night, before him to whom she confided her dark secret, are scattered the lies, the renown and honour of Day, power and advantage shining and glorious, as the paltry dust caught in the sunbeam! Amid the vain fancy of Day he still harbours one desire - the yearning for sacred Night where, all-eternal, true alone, love's bliss smiles on him! TOGETHER Descend, O Night of love, grant oblivion that I may live; take me up into your bosom, release me from the world! TRISTAN Extinguished now the last glimmers; ISOLDE what we thought, what we imagined; TRISTAN all thought ISOLDE all remembering, TOGETHER the glorious presentiment of sacred twilight extinguishes imagined terrors, world-redeeming. ISOLDE The sun concealed itself in our bosom, the stars of bliss gleam, laughing, TRISTAN softly entwined in your magic, sweetly dissolved before your eyes; ISOLDE heart on your heart, mouth on mouth; TRISTAN the single bond of a single breath; TOGETHER my glance is deflected, dazzled with bliss, the world palses with its blinding radiance: ISOLDE lit by Day's guileful deception, TRISTAN standing firm against deceitful delusion, TOGETHER then am I myself the world; floating in sublime bliss, life of love most sacred, the sweetly conscious undeluded wish never again to waken. THE VOICE OF BRANGAENE (from the tower) You upon whom love's dream smiles, take heed of the voice of one keeping solitary watch at night, foreseeing evil for the sleepers, anxiously urging you to waken. Beware! Beware! Night soon melts away. ISOLDE (softly) Listen, beloved! TRISTAN (softly) Let me die! ISOLDE (gradually raising her head a little) Jealous watch! TRISTAN (still reclining) Never waken! ISOLDE Must Day then waken Tristan? TRISTAN (raising his head a little) Let Day give way before death! ISOLDE Should Day and Death both reach our love? TRISTAN (raising himself up more) Our love? Tristan's love? Yours and mine, Isolde's love? What strokes of death could ever make it yeld? If mighty Death stood before me threatening the very life in my body which I would so gladly leave for love, how could it reach love itself? Were I to give my life to that for which I would so gladly die, how could love die with me, the ever-living end with me? And if his love were never to die how could Tristan die of his love? ISOLDE But our love, is it not Tristan and Isolde? This sweet little word: and, would death not destroy the bonds of love which it entwines if Tristan were to die? TRISTAN What could die but that which troubles us, preventing Tristan from ever loving Isolde, forever loving only her? ISOLDE Yet this little word: and, were it destroyed, how else but together with Isolde's own life would death be given to Tristan? (Tristan with a meaningful gesture, gently draws Isolde to him) TRISTAN Thus might we die, that together, ever one, without end, never waking, never fearing, namelessly enveloped in love, given up to each other, to live only for love! ISOLDE (as if in reflective rapture, looking up at him) Thus would we die, that together - TRISTAN ever one, without end - ISOLDE never waking - TRISTAN never fearing - TOGETHER namelessly enveloped in love, given up to ourselves to live only for love! THE VOICE OF BRANGAENE (as before) Beware! Beware! Night soon gives way to Day. TRISTAN (smiling down at Isolde) Shall I listen? ISOLDE (dreamily looking up at Tristan) Let me die! TRISTAN Must I waken? ISOLDE Never waken! TRISTAN Shall Day still waken Tristan? ISOLDE Let Day give way to Death! TRISTAN Have we Day's menaces thus defied? ISOLDE (in growing rapture) Ever to flee its guile. TRISTAN Did its dawning never affright us? ISOLDE (raising herself up with a grand gesture) May our Night endure for ever! TOGETHER O eternal Night, sweet Night! Gloriously sublime Night of love! Those whom you have embraced, upon whom you have smiled, how could they ever waken without fear? Now banish dread, sweet death, yearned for, longed for death-in-love! In your arms, consecrated to you, sacred elemental quickening force, free from the peril of waking! How to grasp it, how to leave it, this bliss far from the sun's, far from Day's parting sorrows! Free from delusion gentle yearning, free from fearing sweet longing. Free from sighing sublime expiring. Free from languishing enclosed in sweet darkness. No evasion no parting, just we alone, ever home, in unmeasured realms of ecstatic dreams. TRISTAN Tristan you, I Isolde, no longer Tristan. ISOLDE You Isolde, Tristan I, no longer Isolde! TOGETHER Un-named, free from parting, new perception, new enkindling; ever endless self-knowing; warmly glowing heart, love's utmost joy! (They remain in a rapturous embrace) SCENE THREE The previous characters. Kurwenal, Brangaene, Mark, Melot and Courtiers. (Brangaene emits a shrill cry. Kurwenal rushes in with unsheathed sword) KURWENAL Save yourself, Tristan! (Horrified, he casts a glance offstage. Mark, Melot and courtiers in hunting dress come rapidly from the avenue of trees and stop in horror at the sight of the lovers. Brangaene climbs down from the tower and runs to Isolde. Isolde, involuntarily seized by a sense of shame, leans back, her face turned aside, on the flowery bank. Tristan, also in spite of himself, raises his cloak on his arm so that it conceals Isolde from the sight of those just arrived. He remains in this position for a long period, unmoving, his cold gaze fixed on the men who, in various attitudes, fasten their eyes on him. Dawn) TRISTAN (after a long silence) Barren Day for the last time! MELOT (to Mark) Now tell me, my lord, was I right to accuse him? To give you my pledge with my head as the bond? I have shown him to you in the very act; your name and honour I have loyally preserved from disgrace. MARK (in a state of profound shock, in a trembling voice) Have you indeed? Is that what you think? Look at him there, the most faithful of the loyal. Cast your eyes upon him, the dearest of friends. His loyalty's freest deed pierced my heart with its hostile treachery! If Tristan betrayed me, am I to hope that what his treachery has cost me should by Melot's counsel honestly be restored to me? TRISTAN (convulsively) Spirits of Day! Fantastic dream! Deceitful and desolate! Fade away! Give way! MARK (deeply affected) This to me? This, Tristan, to me? Whither has loyalty fled now that Tristan has betrayed me? What price now honour and honesty, now that the champion of all honour, Tristan, has lost it? As Tristan appointed himself its emblem, where has virtue flown to, fleeing from my friend, from Tristan, who has betrayed me? (Tristan slowly lowers his gaze; while Mark continues there can be read in his expression growing sadness) Why did you serve me for so long? Why the reputation of honour, the power and greatness which you won for King Mark? Did the honour and renown, greatness and power, the services beyond number, have to be repaid by Mark's dishonour? Did you value so lightly his gratitude which gave you as your very own inheritance that which you had won for him, his renown and his Kingdom? When, childless, his wife died, he loved you so much that never again did Mark intend to wed. When all the people from court and country thronged to him, begging and imploring him to give the country a queen and to take for himself a wife; when you yourself swore to your uncle that you would carry out the wishes of the court and the will of the country, then, against the wishes of court and country, in opposition even to you, with circumspection and kindness he declined until you, Tristan, threatened to exile yourself for ever from court and country if you yourself were not dispatched to win a bride for the King. And so he let it be. This glorious woman that your courage won for me, who could behold her, who could know her, who could proudly call her his own and not think himself blessed? She, whom I could never dare approach, she for whom I foreswore my desires in bashful reverence, so splendid, so lovely, so sublime, who could not but refresh my soul, despite enemies and dangers this royal bride you presented to me. Now, since by such a possession you rendered my heart more open to pain than before, there, where I was rendered soft, sensitive and exposed was I stricken without hope that I might ever be healed. Why so sorely, wretched man, did you wound me there now? There, with the weapon of tormenting poison, searing and maiming my senses and my mind so that my fidelity to my friend is stifled, my open heart filled with suspicion, so that now, secretly and in the dead of night I creep up on you, my friend, eavesdropping, and see my honour ended? No heaven will redeem it for me - why this hell for me? No misery will atone for it - why this disgrace? The uncharted depths of its mysterious causes, who will make them known to the world? TRISTAN (raising his eyes to King Mark in sympathy) O King, I cannot tell you that; what you would ask you can never know. (He turns to Isolde who looks up at him longingly) Wherever Tristan now goes will you, Isolde, follow him? To that land of which Tristan spoke, where the sun's light does not shine; it is the dark land of Night out of which my mother sent me when he, whom she bore on her deathbed, left her in death to reach the light. From that which, when she bore me, was her fortress of love, the wondrous realm of Night, I then awoke. That is what Tristan offers you, thither he will precede you. Whether she will follow him in grace and faith, let Isolde now tell him. ISOLDE When for a foreign land her beloved once won her, that ungracious man Isolde had to follow faithfully and graciously. Now you are returning to your own estates to show me your inheritance; how could I flee that land that spans the whole world? Wherever Tristan's home may be, there let Isolde go, there let her follow him in grace and faith, so now show Isolde the way! (Tristan bends over her and kisses her gently on the forehead. - Enter Melot in a rage) MELOT (drawing his sword) Traitor! Ha! To vengeance, King! Will you suffer this shame? (Tristan draws his sword and turns swiftly) TRISTAN Who dares his life against mine? (He fixes his gaze on Melot) This was my friend, exalted and dear was his devotion to me; for my honour and reputation none was more concerned than he. To impetuousness he drove my heart; he led the crowd that urged me to add to my honour and renown and to give you to the King as bride! The sight of you, Isolde, blinded him too. Out of jealousy I was betrayed by my friend to the King, whom I had betrayed. (He strides up to Melot) Defend yourself, Melot! (As Melot raises his sword towards him, Tristan lowers his and falls wounded into Kurwenal's arms. Isolde falls upon his breast. Mark holds Melot back. - Curtain) SCENE ONE The Shepherd. Kurwenal. Tristan. (Castle garden. At one side a tall castle building, at the other a low parapet with a look-out post; upstage the castle gate. The location can be seen as being a rock height; through openings the sea and the distant horizon can be seen. The whole scene conveys an impression of being deserted, ill-tended, here and there in poor repair and overgrown. Downstage, inside the wall, Tristan is lying in the shade of a tall lime-tree, asleep on a couch, laid out as if lifeless. At his head sits Kurwenal, bent over him in anguish and carefully listening to his breathing. As the curtain goes up there can be heard from outside the gate a shepherd playing a sad, yearning tune on a reed-pipe. At length the shepherd appears over the parapet and looks in with sympathetic interest) SHEPHERD (softly) Kurwenal, hey! Listen, Kurwenal! Hear, my friend! (Kurwenal partly turns his head towards him) Is he still not awake? KURWENAL (sadly shaking his head) Were he to waken it would only be to depart for ever, if she, the healer, does not first appear, the only one who can succour us. Have you seen nothing yet? Still no ship out at sea? SHEPHERD A different tune would you hear then, as merry as I could make it. Now, tell me truly, my old friend, what ails our lord? KURWENAL Do not ask. You can never know. Keep a sharp look-out, and if you see a ship play merrily and clearly! (The shepherd turns and gazes out to sea, his hand shielding his eyes) SHEPHERD Desolate and void the sea! (He puts his reed to his lips and departs, playing) TRISTAN (motionless, dully) That old tune? Why does it waken me? (he opens his eyes and turns his head a little) Where am I? KURWENAL (starts, surprised) Ha! That voice! His voice! Tristan! My lord! My hero! My tristan! TRISTAN (with difficulty) Who is calling me? KURWENAL At last! At last! Life, oh life, sweet life, restored to my Tristan! TRISTAN (raising himself up a little from the couch, in a flat tone) Kurwenal? You? Where have I been? Where am I? KURWENAL Where are you? In peace, safe and free, in Kareol, my lord! Do you not recognise the castle of your fathers? TRISTAN Of my fathers? KURWENAL Just look about you! TRISTAN What did I hear? KURWENAL The shepherd's tune it was that you heard once more; down on the hillside he is keeping watch over your flocks. TRISTAN My flocks? KURWENAL My lord, just as I say! Yours is the house, court and castle! The people, loyal to their dear lord, as well as they could manage, have looked after the house and court which once my lord, as their very own heritage, granted to the people when he left it all behind to travel to a foregin land. TRISTAN To which land? KURWENAL Well now! To Cornwall; bravely and gaily, what glory, fortune and honour Tristan my hero won for himself there! TRISTAN Am I in Cornwall? KURWENAL Of course not, in Kareol! TRISTAN How did I get here? KURWENAL Indeed! How did you get here? You didn't come on horseback; a boat brought you here. But to the ship here, on my shoulders, I carried you - they are broad: they carried you there to the shore. Now you are home, at home in your own country; really at home in your mother country; amidst your own meadows and delights, in the light of the old sun where from death and from your wounds you will blessedly be healed. (He embraces Tristan) TRISTAN (after a brief silence) Is that what you think? I know differently but I am not able to tell you. Where I awoke, there I was not, but where I was I cannot tell you. I did not see the sun, nor did I see land and people; but what I did see I cannot tell you. I was where I had been before I was and where I am destined to go, in the wide realm of the Night of the world. But one certain knowledge is ours there: divine, eternal utter oblivion. How did I cease to perceive it? Yearning remembrance did I call you, driving me on anew towards the light of Day. The one thing that I remembered, a warm and ardent love drives me from the terror of Death's bliss to see the Light, which, deceiving, bright and golden, still shines about you, Isolde! (Kurwenal, in the grip of terror, hides his face. Tristan gradually raises himself up) Isolde still in the realm of the Sun! In the shimmer of Day still, Isolde! What longing! What fearing! To see her, what desire! The crash that I heard behind me was Death's door closing: now once more it stands wide open, the sun's beams have burst it open; with wide open eyes I had to emerge from Night to seek her, to see her; to find her, in her alone to expire, to vanish has it been granted to Tristan. Alas, there now rise up within me, pale and fearful, Day's wild urgings; baleful and deceiving its orb rouses my mind to deceit and folly! Accursed Day with your light! Will you for ever be witness to my anguish? Will it burn for ever, this Light, which even at night kept me from her? Ah, Isolde, sweet beauty! When at last, when, oh when will you extinguish the spark, that I may know my fortune? The light - when will it be extinguished? (He sinks back, exhausted) When will Night come to the house? KURWENAL (deeply shocked, pulling himself out of his depressed state) She whom I once defied out of loyalty to you, with you to her I must now long to go. Belive what I say: you shall see her here this very day; that consolation I can give you - if she is still alive herself. TRISTAN (very faintly) Still the light is not extinguished, still Night does not come to the house! Isolde still lives and keeps watch; she called me out of the Night. KURWENAL If she lives then, let hope smile upon you! Even if you think Kurwenal is foolish, today you will not scold him. As if dead you lay there since that day when Melot, the villain, dealt you a wound. That evil wound, how to heal it? To me, simple that I am, it rather seems that she who once before eased for you the torment of Morold's wound, she could easily heal the torment of Melot's sword. The best physician [Isolde] I soon discovered: to Cornwall I have sent word; a faithful man is bringing Isolde here across the sea. TRISTAN (beside himself) Isolde is coming! Isolde approaches! (He struggles for the words) Oh faith! Bold, sweet faith! (He embraces Kurwenal) My Kurwenal, dearest friend! Unshakeably faithful, how is Tristan to thank you? My shield and my guard in battle and strife, in merrymaking and sorrow always by my side. He that I hated, you hated too. Him I worshipped, you worshipped too. To the good King Mark, when I served him well, you were truer than Gold! When I had to betray that noble lord, how glad you were to betray him too! ver your own self, mine alone, you suffer with me when I suffer: only what I suffer you cannot suffer! This fearful longing that sears me; this languishing flame that consumes me; were I to give you its name, could you know it, you would not tarry here, you would hurry away to keep watch - with all your senses longing to get away to keep careful watch for their billowing sails before the wind where, aflame with the urgings of love, to find me, Isolde is sailing towards me. It approaches! It approaches, speedy and brave! It waves, it waves, the flag on the mast. The ship! The ship! There it goes past the reef! Can't you see it? (vehemently) Kurwenal, can't you see it? (As Kurwenal hesitates, so as not to leave Tristan, and the latter looks at him, silent and tense, there sounds out, as before, at first near by and then in the distance the plaintive tune of the shepherd) KURWENAL (disheartened) Still no ship in sight! TRISTAN (has been listening with failing enthusiasm, now with growing melancholy) Must I understand you thus, you ancient, solemn tune with your plaintive tones? Through the evening air it came, fearfully, as once it brought news to the child of his father's death. Through the grey light of morning, ever more fearful, as the son became aware of his mother's lot. As he begat me and died, so, dying, she bore me. That ancient tune of anxious yearning sounded its lament to them too, asking me then, and asking me now, for what fate was I then born? For what fate? The ancient tune tells me once more: to yearn - and to die! No! Ah, no! That is not it! Yearning! Yearning! While dying to yearn, but not to die of yearning! Never dying, yearning, calling out for the peace of death to the far-away physician. Dying I lay in the boat, silent, the wound's poison near my heart: in plaintive yearning the tune sounded forth; the wind blew the sail towards Ireland's child. The wound which she closed, with the sword she opened up again; but then, the sword, she lowered it; the poison draught she gave me to drink; as I hoped fully to be healed by it, then was the most searing magic unleashed: that I might never die but inherit eternal torment! The draught! The draught! The fearful draught! From my heart to my brain it forced its furious way! No healing, no sweet death can ever release me from yearning's distress; never, ah never shall I find peace: Night casts me out into Day, ever to feed my sorrows in the sight of the sun. Oh, this sun's searing rays, how my head burns from its scorching torture! For the burning longing of this heat ah, no shade's dark concealment! For the burning longing's terrible torment what ointment could bring me ease? The fearful draught that brings me anguish, I, I myself, I prepared it! From my father's distress and mother's anguish, from tears of love everlasting, from laughing and weeping, happiness and hurts, I found the poisonous draught! What I had prepared flowed towards me; devouring it blissfully I enjoyed it - be accursed, fearful draught! Cursed be he that prepared you! (He falls back unconscious) KURWENAL (vainly trying to calm Tristan, cries out in horror) My Lord! Tristan! Dreadful Magic! Love's deception! Passion's urgings! The world's loveliest delusion, what has happened to you? Here he lies, the splendid man, loved and adored as no other. See now what thanks Love has won for him, the thanks that love always wins! (with a catch in his voice) Are you dead? Are you still alive? Has the curse borne you away? (He listens for his breath) O joy! No! He is moving, he is alive! How gently he moves his lips! TRISTAN (slowly coming to his senses) The ship! Can't you see it yet? KURWENAL The ship? Of course, it will be here today! It can't be far off now. TRISTAN And on it Isolde, how she is waving, how sweetly she is drinking reconciliation to me. Can you see her? Can't you see her yet, as she sweetly, bravely and gently wanders across the watery plains? On soft waves of blissful flowers she gently comes into land. She smiles at me, giving comfort and sweet peace, she brings me my last refreshment. Ah, Isolde! Isolde! How lovely you are! And Kurwenal, tell me, do you not see her? Go and keep watch, foolish wretch! What I can see so bright and clear, do not let it escape you! Can you not hear me? Quickly, to the lookout! Quickly, keep watch! Are you still there? The ship? The ship? Isolde's ship? You must see it! Must see it! The ship! Can't you see it yet? (While Kurwenal, hesitating, restrains Tristan, the shepherd sounds his pipe. Kurwenal springs up joyfully) KURWENAL Oh, happiness! Joy! (He leaps to the lookout post and gazes out to sea) Ah! The ship! I can see it approaching from the north! TRISTAN (with growing excitement) Didn't I know it? Didn't I say that she was still alive, sustaining life in me? As the only thing it holds for me, how could Isolde have departed the world? KURWENAL (calling from the lookout post, joyfully) Ahoy! Ahoy! How bravely it sails! How the sails are filled! How it streaks along, how it flies! TRISTAN The flag? The flag? KURWENAL The festive flag at the masthead merry and bright! TRISTAN (raising himself up on his cot) Ah! The flag of joy! In the clear light of Day, to me, Isolde! Isolde, to me! Can you see Isolde herself? KURWENAL The ship has disappeared behind the rocks. TRISTAN Behind the reef? Is it in danger? There, in the turbulent current, ships are wrecked. Who is at the helm? KURWENAL The safest of seamen. TRISTAN Might he betray us, could he be one of Melot's men? KURWENAL Trust in him as in me! TRISTAN You too a traitor! Wretched man! Can you see her yet? KURWENAL Not yet. TRISTAN Lost! KURWENAL (joyously) Ahoy! Ahoy! Through! Through! Safely through! TRISTAN (joyously) Kurwenal! Ahoy! Ahoy! most faithful of friends! All my goods and possessions I bequeath this day! KURWENAL They are approaching at speed. TRISTAN Can you see them at last? Can you see Isolde? KURWENAL There she is! She is waving! TRISTAN Oh blessed woman! KURWENAL The ship is in harbour! Isolde - ah, with a single bound she is leaping ashore! TRISTAN Come down from the lookout post, idle gazer! Down! Down! to the beach! Help her! Help my lady! KURWENAL I'll carry her up here: trust in my arms! But you, Tristan, promise to stay on your couch. (Kurwenal hurries away) SCENE TWO Tristan. Isolde. Kurwenal. TRISTAN (in great excitement, straining on his couch) Oh this sun! Ah! This Day! Ah, this joy's sunniest day! Coursing blood, rejoicing spirit! Bliss beyond bounds, joyful delirium! Confined to my bed, how can I bear it! Up then and onwards to where hearts are beating! Tristan the hero, rejoicing in his strength has snatched himself back from death. (He raises himself up) With bleeding wound I once battled with Morold, with bleeding wound I now pursue Isolde! (He tears the dressing from his wound) Ah, my blood! Cheerily flow, my blood! (He leaps from his bed and staggers forward) She who my wound will finally heal, like a hero approaches, she approaches, my salvation! Let the world perish before my rejoicing haste! (He staggers to the centre of the stage) ISOLDE (from outside) Tristan! Beloved! TRISTAN (in extreme agitation) What? Is it the light I hear? The torch, ah! The torch is extinguished! To her! To her! (Isolde enters breathlessly. Tristan, hardly conscious, totters towards her. They meet in the centre of the stage. She takes him in her arms. Tristan sinks slowly to the ground in her arms) ISOLDE Tristan! Ha! TRISTAN (dying, looks up at her) Isolde! (He dies) ISOLDE Ah! It is I! It is I! sweetest beloved! Up, just once more, listen to my call! Isolde is calling: Isolde has come faithfully to die with Tristan. Will you not answer me? Just for one hour, just for one hour stay awake for me! For so many anxious days she kept watch, longing to watch with you for an hour. Will Tristan deny Isolde this single, eternally brief, final worldly joy? The wound? Where is it? Let me heal it! Let us in untroubled bliss share the Night! Not from that wound, do not die from that wound. Unite us both, extinguish the light of life! Dimmed your eyes! Silent your heart! Not a breath's gentle wafting! Must she now in misery stand before you, she who joyously, to marry you, bravely crossed the sea? Too late! Spiteful man! Will you punish me thus with this most harsh of sentences? No consideration of my sorrow's debt? May I not utter my lament to you? Just once, ah! just once more! Tristan! Ah! Listen! He is waking! Beloved! (She collapses unconscious over the body) SCENE THREE The previous characters. The Shepherd. The Steersman. Melot. Brangaene. Mark. Knights and Squires. (Kurwenal has just come in behind Isolde; speechless and deeply shocked he has witnessed the scene and stared at Tristan, motionless. From below can be heard a dull murmuring and clatter of weapons. The shepherd comes climbing over the wall) SHEPHERD (turning quickly and quietly to Kurwenal) Kurwenal! Listen! A second ship. (Kurwenal starts and looks over the escarpment while the Shepherd, horrified, looks at Tristan and Isolde from a distance) KURWENAL (in an outbreak of rage) Death and damnation! To your posts! I have made out Mark and Melot! Weapons and stones! Help me! To the gate! (He hurries with the shepherd to the gate, which they try to barricade hastily) THE HELMSMAN (rushing in) Mark is behind me with armed men and people. Resistance is useless! We are overpowered. KURWENAL Take up your post and help! As long as I live nobody is going to spy on me here! BRANGAENE'S VOICE (coming from outside) Isolde! My mistress! KURWENAL Brangaene calling? (calling down the slope) What do you want here? BRANGAENE Do not bar the gate, Kurwenal! Where is Isolde? KURWENAL You too a traitor? Woe to you, villanous woman! MELOT (outside) Get back, you fool! Do not resist! KURWENAL (laughing wildly) Heyahaha! The day that I strike you down! (Melot, witharmed men, appears below the gate. Kurwenal attacks him and fells him to the ground) KURWENAL Die shameful wretch! MELOT Alas, Tristan! (He dies) BRANGAENE (still outside) Kurwenal, are you mad? Listen, you are betraying yourself! KURWENAL Faithless maid! (to his men) Come on! Follow me! Throw them back! (They fight) MARK (outside) Stop, you madman! Have you lost your senses? KURWENAL Here death rages! Nothing else, King, is to be had here; if that is what you want, come on! (He sets about Mark and his followers) MARK (appearing under the gate with some men) Get back, madman! BRANGAENE (has climbed in over the wall at the side and hurries forward) Isolde! Mistress! Joy and salvation! What do I see? Ah! Are you alive? Isolde! (She tends Isolde. - Mark and his men have driven Kurwenal and his followes back from the gate and force their way in) MARK Deceit and madness! Tristan, where are you? KURWENAL (badly wounded, staggers forward before Mark) There he lies - here - where I lie. (He collapses at Tristan's feet) MARK Tristan! Tristan! Isolde! Alas! KURWENAL (grasping Tristan's hand) Tristan! Faithful friend! Do not scold me if your faithful friend comes with you! (He dies) MARK All dead then! All dead! My hero, my Tristan! Most faithful of friends, must you even today betray your friend? Today, when he comes to avow to you his deepest faith? Awake! Awake! Awake! to my wailing! (Sobbing, he bends over the bodies) You faithless, most faithful of friends! BRANGAENE (who has brought Isolde to her senses in her arms) She wakes! She is alive! Isolde! Listen to me, hear my repentance! The draught's secret I have revealed to the King; In anxious haste he put out to sea to reach you, to renounce you, to lead your beloved to you. MARK Why, Isolde, why have you done this? When it was clearly revealed to me what I had not been able to comprehend, how happy I was that I found my friend free of guilt. To wed you to this glorious man with full sail I flew after you. But misfortune's impetuous haste, how can the bringer of peace control it? I increased the harvest of Death, madness added yet more distress. BRANGAENE Can you not hear us? Isolde! Dearest! Can you not hear your faithful Brangaene? (Isolde, aware of nothing round about her, fixes her gaze with mounting ecstasy upon Tristan's body) ISOLDE How softly and gently he smiles, how sweetly his eyes open - can you see, my friends, do you not see it? How he glows ever brighter, raising himself high amidst the stars? Do you not see it? How his heart swells with courage, gushing full and majestic in his breast? How in tender bliss sweet breath gently wafts from his lips - Friends! Look! Do you not feel and see it? Do I alone hear this melody so wondrously and gently sounding from within him, in bliss lamenting, all-expressing, gently reconciling, piercing me, soaring aloft, its sweet echoes resounding about me? Are they gentle aerial waves ringing out clearly, surging around me? Are they billows of blissful fragrance? As they seethe and roar about me, shall I breathe, shall I give ear? Shall I drink of them, plunge beneath them? Breathe my life away in sweet scents? In the heaving swell, in the resounding echoes, in the universal stream of the world-breath - to drown, to founder - unconscious - utmost rapture! (Isolde sinks gently, as if transfigured, in Brangaene's arms, on to Tristan's body. Those standing around are awed and deeply moved. Mark blesses the bodies. - The curtain falls slowly) |