Chapter 10

[KURVENAL _retires again_. BRANGÆNA, _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_]

(TRISTAN _enters, 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!

(ISOLDA _beckons_ BRANGÆNA. _She trembles and hesitates to obey_. ISOLDA _commands her with a more imperious gesture_. BRANGÆNA _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 from_ ISOLDA BRANGÆNA _hands her the filled cup_.)

ISOLDA (_advancing with the cup to_ TRISTAN, _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 from_ ISOLDA.)

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 glances 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!

BRANGÆNA (_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!