Chapter II: Act II

[_A Garden before ISOLDA'S Chamber which lies at one side and is approached by steps. Bright and pleasant summer night. At the open door a burning torch is fixed. Sounds of hunting heard_.]

SCENE I.

[BRANGÆNA, _on the steps leading to the chamber, is watching the retreat of the still audible hunters. She looks anxiously back into the chamber as ISOLDA emerges thence in ardent animation_.]

ISOLDA. Yet do you hear? I lost the sound some time.

BRANGÆNA (_listening_). Still do they stay: clearly rings the horns.

ISOLDA (_listening_). Fear but deludes thy anxious ear; by sounds of rustling leaves thou'rt deceived, aroused by laughter of winds.

BRANGÆNA. Deceived by wild desire art thou, and but hear'st as would thy will:-- I still hear the sound of horns.

ISOLDA (_listens_). No sound of horns were so sweet: yon fountain's soft murmuring current moves so quietly hence. If horns yet brayed, how could I hear that? In still night alone it laughs on mine ear. My lov'd one hides in darkness unseen: wouldst thou hold from my side my dearest? deeming that horns thou hearest?

BRANGÆNA. Thy lov'd one hid-- oh heed my warning!-- for him a spy waits by night. Listening oft I light upon him: he lays a secret snare. Of Melot oh beware!

ISOLDA. Mean you Sir Melot? O, how you mistake! Is he not Tristan's trustiest friend? May my true love not meet me, with none but Melot he stays.

BRANGÆNA. What moves me to fear him makes thee his friend then? Through Tristan to Mark's side is Melot's way: he sows suspicion's seed. And those who have to-day on a night-hunt so suddenly decided, a far nobler game than is guessed by thee taxes their hunting skill.

ISOLDA. For Tristan's sake contrived was this scheme by means of Melot, in truth: now would you decry his friendship? He serves Isolda better than you his hand gives help which yours denies: what need of such delay? The signal, Brangæna! O give the signal! Tread out the torch's trembling gleam, that night may envelop all with her veil. Already her peace reigns o'er hill and hall, her rapturous awe the heart does enthral; allow then the light to fall! Let but its dread lustre die! let my beloved draw nigh!

BRANGÆNA. The light of warning suppress not! Let it remind thee of peril!-- Ah, woe's me! Woe's me! Fatal folly! The fell pow'r of that potion! That I framed a fraud for once thy orders to oppose! Had I been deaf and blind, thy work were then thy death: but thy distress, thy distraction of grief, my work has contrived them, I own it!

ISOLDA. Thy--act? O foolish girl! Love's goddess dost thou not know? nor all her magic arts? The queen who grants unquailing hearts, the witch whose will the world obeys, life and death she holds in her hands, which of joy and woe are wove? she worketh hate into love. The work of death I took into my own hands; Love's goddess saw and gave her good commands The death--condemned she claimed as her prey, planning our fate in her own way. How she may bend it, how she may end it, what she may make me, wheresoe'er take me, still hers am I solely;-- so let me obey her wholly.

BRANGÆNA. And if by the artful love-potion's lures thy light of reason is ravished, if thou art reckless when I would warn thee, this once, oh, wait and weigh my pleading! I implore, leave it alight!-- The torch! the torch! O put it not out this night!

ISOLDA. She who causes thus my bosom's throes, whose eager fire within me glows, whose light upon my spirit flows, Love's goddess needs that night should close; that brightly she may reign and shun the torchlight vain.

(_She goes up to the door and takes down the torch_.)

Go watch without-- keep wary guard! The signal!-- and were it my spirit's spark, smiling I'd destroy it and hail the dark!

[_She throws the torch to the ground where it slowly dies out. BRANGÆNA turns away, disturbed, and mounts an outer flight of steps leading to the roof, where she slowly disappears. ISOLDA listens and peers, at first shyly, towards an avenue. Urged, by rising impatience, she then approaches the avenue and looks more boldly. She signs with her handkerchief, first slightly, then more plainly, waving it quicker as her impatience increases. A gesture of sudden delight shows that she has perceived her lover in the distance. She stretches herself higher and higher, and then, to look better over the intervening space, hastens back to the steps, from the top of which she signals again to the on-comer. As he enters, she springs to meet him_.]

SCENE II.

TRISTAN (_rushing in_). Isolda! Beloved!

ISOLDA. Tristan! Beloved one!

(_Passionate embrace, with which they come down to the front_.)

BOTH. Art thou mine? Do I behold thee? Do I embrace thee? Can I believe it? At last! At last! Here on my breast! Do I then clasp thee! Is it thy own self? Are these thine eyes? These thy lips? Here thy hand? Here thy heart? Is't I?--Is't thou, held in my arms? Am I not duped? Is it no dream? O rapture of spirit! O sweetest, highest, fairest, strongest, holiest bliss? Endless pleasure! Boundless treasure! Ne'er to sever! Never! Never! Unconceived, unbelieved, overpowering exaltation! Joy-proclaiming, bliss-outpouring, high in heaven, earth ignoring! Tristan mine! Isolda mine! Tristan! Isolda! Mine alone! Thine alone! Ever all my own!

TRISTAN. The light! The light! O but this light, how long 'twas let to burn! The sun had sunk, the day had fled; but all their spite not yet was sped: the scaring signal they set alight, before my belov'd one's dwelling, my swift approach repelling.

ISOLDA. Thy belov'd one's hand lowered the light, for Brangæna's fears in me roused no fright: while Love's goddess gave me aid, sunlight a mock I made. But the light its fear and defeat repaid; with thy misdeeds a league it made. What thou didst see in shadowing night, to the shining sun of kingly might must thou straightway surrender, that it should exist in bright bonds of empty splendor.-- Could I bear it then? Can I bear it now?

TRISTAN. O now were we to night devoted, the dishonest day with envy bloated, lying, could not mislead, though it might part us indeed. Its pretentious glows and its glamouring light are scouted by those who worship night. All its flickering gleams in flashes out-blazing blind us no more where we are gazing. Those who death's night boldly survey, those who have studied her secret way, the daylight's falsehoods-- rank and fame, honor and all at which men aim-- to them are no more matter than dust which sunbeams scatter, In the daylight's visions thronging only abides one longing; we yearn to hie to holy night, where, unending, only true, Love extendeth delight!

(TRISTAN _draws_ ISOLDA _gently aside to a flowery bank, sinks on his knee before her and rests his head on her arm_.)

(TRISTAN _and_ ISOLDA _sink into oblivious ecstasy, reposing on the flowery bank close together_.)

BRANGÆNA (_from the turret, unseen_). Long I watch alone by night: ye enwrapt in love's delight, heed my boding voice aright. I forewarn you woe is near; waken to my words of fear. Have a care! Have a care! Swiftly night doth wear!

ISOLDA. List, beloved!

TRISTAN. Let me die thus!

ISOLDA (_slowly raising herself a little_). Envious watcher!

TRISTAN (_remaining in reclining position_). I'll ne'er waken.

ISOLDA. But the Day must dawn and rouse thee?

TRISTAN (_raising his head slightly_). Let the Day to Death surrender!

ISOLDA. Day and Death will both engender feud against our passion tender.

TRISTAN (_drawing_ ISOLDA _gently towards him with expressive action_). O might we then together die, each the other's own for aye! never fearing, never waking, blest delights of love partaking,-- each to each be given, in love alone our heaven!

ISOLDA (_gazing up at him in thoughtful ecstasy_). O might we then together die!

TRISTAN. Each the other's--

ISOLDA. Own for aye,--

TRISTAN. Never fearing--

ISOLDA. Never waking--

TRISTAN. Blest delights of love partaking--

ISOLDA. Each to each be given; in love alone our heaven.

(ISOLDA, _as if overcome, droops her head on his breast._)

BRANGÆNA'S VOICE (_as before_). Have a care! Have a care! Night yields to daylight's glare.

TRISTAN (_bends smilingly to ISOLDA_). Shall I listen?

ISOLDA (looking fondly up at TRISTAN). Let me die thus!

TRISTAN. Must I waken?

ISOLDA. Nought shall wake me!

TRISTAN. Must not daylight dawn, and rouse me?

ISOLDA. Let the Day to Death surrender!

TRISTAN. May thus the Day's evil threats be defied?

ISOLDA (_with growing enthusiasm_). From its thraldom let us fly.

TRISTAN. And shall not its dawn be dreaded by us?

ISOLDA (_rising with a grand gesture_). Night will shield us for aye!

(TRISTAN _follows her; they embrace in fond exaltation_.)

BOTH. O endless Night! blissful Night! glad and glorious lover's Night! Those whom thou holdest, lapped in delight, how could e'en the boldest unmoved endure thy flight? How to take it, how to break it,-- joy existent, sunlight distant, Far from mourning, sorrow-warning, fancies spurning, softly yearning, fear expiring, sweet desiring! Anguish flying, gladly dying; no more pining, night-enshrining, ne'er divided whate'er betided, side by side still abide in realms of space unmeasured, vision blest and treasured! Thou Isolda, Tristan I; no more Tristan, no more Isolda. Never spoken, never broken, newly sighted, newly lighted, endless ever all our dream: in our bosoms gleam love delights supreme!

SCENE III.

[BRANGÆNA _utters a piercing cry_. TRISTAN _and_ ISOLDA _remain in their absorbed state_. KURVENAL _rushes in with drawn sword_.]

KURVENAL. Save yourself, Tristan!

[_He looks fearfully off behind him_. MARK, MELOT, _and courtiers, in hunting dress, come swiftly up the avenue and pause in the foreground in consternation before the lovers_. BRANGÆNA _at the same time descends from the roof and hastens towards_ ISOLDA. _The latter in involuntary shame leans on the flowery bank with averted face_. TRISTAN _with an equally unconscious action stretches his mantle wide out with one arm, so as to conceal_ ISOLDA _from the gaze of the new-comers. In this position he remains for some time, turning a changeless look upon the men, who gaze at him in varied emotion. The morning dawns_.]

TRISTAN. The dreary day-- its last time comes!

MELOT (_to Mark_). Now say to me, my sov'reign, was my impeachment just? I staked my head thereon: How is the pledge redeemed? Behold him in the very act: honor and fame, faithfully I have saved from shame for thee.

MARK (_deeply moved, with trembling voice_). Hast thou preserved them? Say'st thou so?-- See him there, the truest of all true hearts! Look on him the faithfulest of friends, too His offence so black and base fills my heart with anguish and disgrace. Tristan traitor, what hope stayeth that the honor he betrayeth should by Melot's rede rest to me indeed?

TRISTAN (_with convulsive violence_). Daylight phantoms-- morning visions empty and vain-- Avaunt! Begone!

MARK (_in deep emotion_). This--blow. Tristan, to me? Where now has truth fled, if Tristan can betray? Where now are faith and friendship fair, when from the fount of faith, my Tristan, they are gone? The buckler Tristan once did don, where is that shield of virtue now? when from my friends it flies, and Tristan's honor dies?

(TRISTAN _slowly lowers his eyes to the ground. His features express increasing grief while MARK continues_.)

Why hast thou noble service done, and honor, fame and potent might amassed for Mark, thy king? Must honor, fame, power and might, must all thy noble service done be paid with Mark's dishonor? Seemed the reward too slight and scant that what thou hast won him-- realms and riches-- thou art the heir unto, all? When childless he lost once a wife, he loved thee so that ne'er again did Mark desire to marry. When all his subjects, high and low, demands and pray'rs, on him did press to choose himself a consort-- a queen to give the kingdom, when thou thyself thy uncle urged that what the court and country pleaded well might be conceded, opposing high and low, opposing e'en thyself, with kindly cunning still he refused, till, Tristan, thou didst threaten forever to leave both court and land if thou receivedst not command a bride for the king to woo: then so he let thee do.-- This wondrous lovely wife, thy might for me did win, who could behold her, who address her, who in pride and bliss possess her, but would bless his happy fortune? She whom I have paid respect to ever, whom I owned, yet possess'd her never she, the princess proud and peerless, lighting up my life so cheerless, 'spite foes,--without fear, the fairest of brides thou didst bring me here. Why in hell must I bide, without hope of a heaven? Why endure disgrace unhealed by tears or grief? The unexplained, unpenetrated cause of all these woes, who will to us disclose?

TRISTAN (_raising his eyes pitifully towards_ MARK). O monarch! I-- may not tell thee, truly; what thou dost ask remains for aye unanswered.--

(_He turns to_ ISOLDA, _who looks tenderly up at him_.)

Where Tristan now is going, wilt thou, Isolda, follow? The land that Tristan means of sunlight has no gleams; it is the dark abode of night, from whence I first came forth to light, and she who bore me thence in anguish, gave up her life, nor long did languish. She but looked on my face, then sought this resting-place. This land where Night doth reign, where Tristan once hath lain-- now thither offers he thy faithful guide to be. So let Isolda straight declare if she will meet him there.

ISOLDA. When to a foreign land before thou didst invite, to thee, traitor, resting true, did Isolda follow. Thy kingdom now art showing, where surely we are going! why should I shun that land by which the world is spann'd? For Tristan's house and home Isold' will make her own. The road whereby we have to go I pray thee quickly show!--

(TRISTAN _bends slowly over her and kisses her softly on the forehead_. MELOT _starts furiously forward_.)

MELOT (_drawing his sword_). Thou villain! Ha! Avenge thee, monarch! Say, wilt suffer such scorn?

TRISTAN (_drawing his sword and turning quickly round_) Who's he will set his life against mine?

(_casting a look at MELOT_).

This was my friend; he told me he loved me truly: my fame and honor he upheld more than all men. With arrogance he filled my heart, and led on those who prompted me fame and pow'r to augment me by wedding thee to our monarch.-- Thy glance, Isolda, glamoured him thus; and, jealous, my friend played me false to King Mark, whom I betrayed.--

(_He sets on_ MELOT.)

Guard thee, Melot!

[_As_ MELOT _presents his sword_ TRISTAN _drops his own guard and sinks wounded into the arms of_ KURVENAL. ISOLDA _throws herself upon his breast_. MARK _holds_ MELOT _back. The curtain falls quickly_.]