Chapter 11

[_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_.]

BRANGÆNA (_to the women, who at her bidding ascend from below_). Quick--the mantle! the royal robe!--

(_Rushing between_ TRISTAN _and_ ISOLDA.)

Up, hapless ones! See where we are!

(_She places the royal mantle on_ ISOLDA, _who notices nothing_.)

ALL THE MEN. Hail! Hail! Hail our monarch! Hail to Mark the king!

KURVENAL (_advancing gaily_). Hail, Tristan, knight of good hap! Behold King Mark approaching, in a bark with brave attendance. Gladly he stems the tide, coming to seek his bride.

TRISTAN (_looking up in bewilderment_). Who comes?

KURVENAL. The king 'tis.

TRISTAN. What king mean you?

(KURVENAL _points over the side_. TRISTAN _gazes stupefied at the shore_.)

ALL THE MEN (_waving their hats_). Hail to King Mark! All hail!

ISOLDA (_bewildered_). What is't, Brangæna? What are those cries?

BRANGÆNA. Isolda--mistress! Compose thyself!

ISOLDA. Where am I! living? What was that draught?

BRANGÆNA (_despairingly_). The love-potion!

ISOLDA (_staring with horror at_ TRISTAN). Tristan!

TRISTAN. Isolda!

ISOLDA. Must I live, then?

(_Falls fainting upon his breast_.)

BRANGÆNA (_to the women_). Look to your lady!

TRISTAN. O rapture fraught with cunning! O fraud with bliss o'er-running!

ALL THE MEN (_in a general burst of acclamation_). Hail to King Mark! Cornwall, hail!

[_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_.]