Tristan and Isolda Part 1

Tristan and Isolda.

by Richard Wagner.

ACT I.

[_A pavilion erected on the deck of a s.h.i.+p, richly hung with tapestry, quite closed in at back at first. A narrow hatchway at one side leads below into the cabin_.]

SCENE I.

ISOLDA _on a couch, her face buried in the cus.h.i.+ons.

--_BRANGaeNA_ holding open a curtain, looks over the side of the vessel_.

THE VOICE OF A YOUNG SAILOR (_from above as if at the mast-head_).

ISOLDA (_starting up suddenly_).

What wight dares insult me?

(_She looks round in agitation_.)

Brangaena, ho!

Say, where sail we?

BRANGaeNA (_at the opening_).

Bluish stripes are stretching along the west: swiftly sails the s.h.i.+p to sh.o.r.e; if restful the sea by eve we shall readily set foot on land.

ISOLDA. What land?

BRANGaeNA. Cornwall's verdant strand.

ISOLDA. Never more!

To-day nor to-morrow!

BRANGaeNA. What mean you, mistress? say!

(_She lets the curtain fall and hastens to_ ISOLDA.)

ISOLDA (_with wild gaze_).

O fainthearted child, false to thy fathers!

Ah, where, mother, hast given thy might that commands the wave and the tempest?

O subtle art of sorcery, for mere leech-craft followed too long!

Awake in me once more, power of will!

Arise from thy hiding within my breast!

Hark to my bidding, fluttering breezes!

Arise and storm in boisterous strife!

With furious rage and hurricane's hurdle waken the sea from slumbering calm; rouse up the deep to its devilish deeds!

Shew it the prey which gladly I proffer!

Let it shatter this too daring s.h.i.+p and enshrine in ocean each shred!

And woe to the lives!

Their wavering death-sighs I leave to ye, winds, as your lot.

BRANGaeNA (_in extreme alarm and concern for_ ISOLDA).

Out, alas!

Ah, woe!

I've ever dreaded some ill!-- Isolda! mistress!

Heart of mine!

What secret dost thou hide?

Without a tear thou'st quitted thy father and mother, and scarce a word of farewell to friends thou gavest; leaving home thou stood'st, how cold and still!

pale and speechless on the way, food rejecting, reft of sleep, stern and wretched, wild, disturbed; how it pains me so to see thee!

Friends no more we seem, being thus estranged.

Make me partner in thy pain!

Tell me freely all thy fears!

Lady, thou hearest, sweetest and dearest; if for true friend you take me, your confidant O make me!

ISOLDA. Air! air!

or my heart will choke!

Open! open there wide!

(BRANGaeNA _hastily draws the centre curtains apart_.)

SCENE II.

[_The whole length of the s.h.i.+p 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?

BRANGaeNA (_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?

BRANGaeNA. 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?