Chapter 6

[_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_ TRISTAN_ folding his arms and thoughtfully gazing out to sea; at his feet_ KURVENAL _reclines carelessly. From the mast-head above is once more heard the voice of the young sailor_.]

THE YOUNG SAILOR (_at the mast-head invisible_). The wind so wild blows homewards now; my Irish child, where waitest thou? Say, must our sails be weighted, filled by thy sighs unbated? Waft us, wind strong and wild! Woe, ah woe for my child!

ISOLDA (_whose eyes have at once sought_ TRISTAN _and fixed stonily on him--gloomily_). Once beloved-- now removed-- brave and bright, coward knight!-- Death-devoted head! Death-devoted heart!--

(_laughing unnaturally_).

Think'st highly of yon minion?

BRANGÆNA (_following her glance_). Whom mean'st thou?

ISOLDA. There, that hero who from mine eyes averts his own: in shrinking shame my gaze he shuns-- Say, how hold you him?

BRANGÆNA. Mean you Sir Tristan, lady mine? Extolled by ev'ry nation, his happy country's pride, The hero of creation,-- whose fame so high and wide?

ISOLDA (_jeeringly_). In shrinking trepidation his shame he seeks to hide, While to the king, his relation, he brings the corpse-like bride!-- Seems it so senseless What I say? Go ask himself, our gracious host, dare he approach my side? No courteous heed or loyal care this hero t'wards his lady turns; but to meet her his heart is daunted, this knight so highly vaunted! Oh! he wots well the cause! To the traitor go, bearing his lady's will! As my servant bound, straightway should he approach.

BRANGÆNA. Shall I beseech him to attend thee?

ISOLDA. Nay, order him: pray, understand it:-- I, Isolda do command it!

[_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_.]

KURVENAL (_observing Brangæna's approach, plucks Tristan by the robe without rising_.) Beware, Tristan! Message from Isolda!

TRISTAN (_starting_). What is't?--Isolda?--

(_He quickly regains his composure as BRANGÆNA approaches and curtsies to him_.)

What would my lady? I her liegeman, fain will listen while her loyal woman tells her will.

BRANGÆNA. My lord, Sir Tristan, Dame Isolda would have speech with you at once.

TRISTAN. Is she with travel worn? The end is near: nay, ere the set of sun sight we the land. All that your mistress commands me, trust me, I shall mind.

BRANGÆNA. That you, Sir Tristan, go to her,-- this is my lady's wish.

TRISTAN. Where yonder verdant meadows in distance dim are mounting, waits my sov'reign for his mate: to lead her to his presence I'll wait upon the princess: 'tis an honor all my own.

BRANGÆNA. My lord, Sir Tristan, list to me: this one thing my lady wills, that thou at once attend her, there where she waits for thee.

TRISTAN. In any station where I stand I truly serve but her, the pearl of womanhood. If I unheeding left the helm, how might I pilot her ship in surety to King Mark?

BRANGÆNA. Tristan, my master, why mock me thus? Seemeth my saying obscure to you? list to my lady's words: thus, look you, she hath spoken: "Go order him, and understand it, I--Isolda-- do command it."

KURVENAL (_springing up_). May I an answer make her?

TRISTAN. What wouldst thou wish to reply?

KURVENAL. This should she say to Dame Isold': "Though Cornwall's crown and England's isle for Ireland's child he chose, his own by choice she may not be; he brings the king his bride. A hero-knight Tristan is hight! I've said, nor care to measure your lady's high displeasure."

[_While_ TRISTAN _seeks to stop him, and the offended_ BRANGÆNA _turns to depart_, KURVENAL _sings after her at the top of his voice, as she lingeringly withdraws_.]

"Sir Morold toiled o'er mighty wave the Cornish tax to levy; In desert isle was dug his grave, he died of wounds so heavy. His head now hangs in Irish lands, Sole were-gild won at English hands. Bravo, our brave Tristan! Let his tax take who can!"

[KURVENAL, _driven away by_ TRISTAN'S _chidings, descends into the cabin_. BRANGÆNA _returns in discomposure to_ ISOLDA, _closing the curtains behind her, while all the men take up the chorus and are heard without_.]

KNIGHTS AND ATTENDANTS. "His head now hangs in Irish lands, sole were-gild won at English hands. Bravo, our brave Tristan! Let his tax take who can!"