Tristan And Isolda - Act III Scene 1 by Richard Wagner Lyrics
A Castle-Garden.
At one side high castellated buildings, on the other a low breastwork interrupted by a watch tower; at back the castle-gate. The situation is supposed to be on rocky cliffs; through openings the view extends over a wide sea horizon. The whole gives an impression of being deserted by the owner, badly kept, and here and there dilapidated and overgrown.
Scene I
In the foreground, in the garden, lies TRISTAN sleeping on a couch under the shade of a great lime-tree, stretched out as if lifeless. At his head sits KURVENAL, bending over him in grief and anxiously listening to his breathing. From without comes the mournful sound of a shepherd's pipe.
Presently the shepherd comes and looks in with interest, showing the upper half of his body over the wall.
SHEPHERD
Kurvenal, ho!—
Say, Kurvenal,—
tell me, friend!
Does he still sleep?
KURVENAL turning a little towards him and shaking his head sadly
If he awoke
it would be
but for evermore to leave us,
unless we find
the lady-leech;
alone can she give help.—
See'st thou nought?
No ship yet on the sea?
SHEPHERD
Quite another ditty
then would I play
as merry as ever I may.
But tell me truly,
trusty friend,
why languishes our lord?
KURVENAL
Do not ask me;—
for I can give no answer.
Watch the sea,
if sails come in sight
a sprightly melody play.
SHEPHERD turns round and scans the horizon, shading his eyes with his hand
Blank appears the sea!
He puts the reed pipe to his mouth and withdraws, playing.
TRISTAN motionless—faintly
The tune so well known—
why wake to that?
opens his eyes and slightly turns his head.
Where am I?
KURVENAL starting in joyous surprise
Ha!—who is speaking?
It is his voice!—
Tristan! lov'd one!
My lord! my Tristan!
TRISTAN with effort
Who—calls me?
KURVENAL
Life—at last—
O thanks be to heaven!—
sweetest life
unto my Tristan newly given!
TRISTAN faintly
Kurvenal!—thou?
Where—was I?—
Where—am I?
KURVENAL
Where art thou?
In safety, tranquil and sure!
Kareol 'tis;
dost thou not know
thy fathers' halls?
TRISTAN
This my fathers'?
KURVENAL
Look but around.
TRISTAN
What awoke me?
KURVENAL
The herdsman's ditty
hast thou heard, doubtless;
he heedeth thy herds
above on the hills there.
TRISTAN
Have I herds, then?
KURVENAL
Sir, I say it!
Thine are court,
castle—all.
To thee yet true,
thy trusty folk,
as best they might,
have held thy home in guard:
the gift which once
thy goodness gave
to thy serfs and vassals here,
when going far away,
in foreign lands to dwell.
TRISTAN
What foreign land?
KURVENAL
Why! in Cornwall;
where cool and able,
all that was brilliant,
brave and noble,
Tristan, my lord, lightly took.
TRISTAN
Am I in Cornwall?
KURVENAL
No, no; in Kareol.
TRISTAN
How came I here?
KURVENAL
Hey now! how you came?
No horse hither you rode:
a vessel bore you across.
But on my shoulders
down to the ship
you had to ride: they are broad,
they carried you to the shore.
Now you are at home once more;
your own the land,
your native land;
all loved things now are near you,
unchanged the sun doth cheer you.
The wounds from which you languish
here all shall end their anguish.
He presses himself to TRISTAN'S breast.
TRISTAN
Think'st thou thus!
I know 'tis not so,
but this I cannot tell thee.
Where I awoke
ne'er I was,
but where I wandered
I can indeed not tell thee.
The sun I could not see,
nor country fair, nor people;
but what I saw
I can indeed not tell thee.
It was—
the land from which I once came
and whither I return:
the endless realm
of earthly night.
One thing only
there possessed me:
blank, unending,
all-oblivion.—
How faded all forebodings!
O wistful goadings!—
Thus I call
the thoughts that all
t'ward light of day have press'd me.
What only yet doth rest me,
the love-pains that possess'd me,
from blissful death's affright
now drive me toward the light,
which, deceitful, bright and golden,
round thee, Isolda, shines.
Accurséd day
with cruel glow!
Must thou ever
wake my woe?
Must thy light
be burning ever,
e'en by night
our hearts to sever?
Ah, my fairest,
sweetest, rarest!
When wilt thou—
when, ah, when—
let the torchlight dwindle,
that so my bliss may kindle?
The light, how long it glows!
When will the house repose?
His voice has grown fainter and he sinks back gently, exhausted.
KURVENAL who has been deeply distressed, now quickly rousts himself from his dejection
I once defied,
through faith in thee,
the one for whom
now with thee I'm yearning.
Trust in my words,
thou soon shalt see her
face to face.
My tongue that comfort giveth,—
if on the earth still she liveth.
TRISTAN very feebly
Yet burns the beacon's spark:
yet is the house not dark,
Isolda lives and wakes:
her voice through darkness breaks.
KURVENAL
Lives she still,
then let new hope delight thee.
If foolish and dull you hold me,
this day you must not scold me.
As dead lay'st thou
since the day
when that accursed Melot
so foully wounded thee.
Thy wound was heavy:
how to heal it?
Thy simple servant
there bethought
that she who once
closed Morold's wound
with ease the hurt could heal thee
that Melot's sword did deal thee.
I found the best
of leeches there,
to Cornwall have I
sent for her:
a trusty serf
sails o'er the sea,
bringing Isold' to thee.
TRISTAN transported
Isolda comes!
Isolda nears!
He struggles for words.
O friendship! high
and holy friendship!
Draws KURVENAL to him and embraces him.
O Kurvenal,
thou trusty heart,
my truest friend I rank thee!
Howe'er can Tristan thank thee?
My shelter and shield
in fight and strife;
in weal or woe
thou'rt mine for life.
Those whom I hate
thou hatest too;
those whom I love
thou lovest too.
When good King Mark
I followed of old,
thou wert to him truer than gold.
When I was false
to my noble friend,
to betray too thou didst descend.
Thou art selfless,
solely mine;
thou feel'st for me
when I suffer.
But—what I suffer,
thou canst not feel for me!
this terrible yearning in my heart,
this feverish burning's
cruel smart,—
did I but show it,
couldst thou but know it,
no time here wouldst thou tarry,
to watch from tow'r thou wouldst hurry;
with all devotion
viewing the ocean,
with eyes impatiently spying,
there, where her ship's sails are flying.
Before the wind she
drives to find me;
on the wings of love she neareth,—
Isolda hither steereth!—
she nears, she nears,
so boldly and fast!
It waves, it waves,
the flag from the mast!
Hurra! Hurra!
she reaches the bar!
Dost thou not see?
Kurvenal, dost thou not see?
As KURNEVAL hesitates to leave TRISTAN, who is gazing at him in mute expectation, the mournful tune of the shepherd is heard, as before.
KURVENAL dejectedly
Still is no ship in sight.
TRISTAN has listened with waning excitement and now recommences with growing melancholy
Is this the meaning then,
thou old pathetic ditty,
of all thy sighing sound?—
On evening's breeze
it sadly rang
when, as a child,
my father's death-news chill'd me;
through morning's mist
it stole more sadly,
when the son
his mother's fate was taught,
when they who gave me breath
both felt the hand of death
to them came also
through their pain
the ancient ditty's
yearning strain,
which asked me once
and asks me now
which was the fate before me
to which my mother bore me?—
What was the fate?—
The strain so plaintive
now repeats it:—
for yearning—and dying!
He falls back senseless.
KURVENAL who has been vainly striving to calm TRISTAN, cries out in terror
My master! Tristan!—
Frightful enchantment!—
O love's deceit!
O passion's pow'r!
Most sweet dream 'neath the sun,
see the work thou hast done!—
Here lies he now,
the noblest of knights,
with his passion all others above:
behold! what reward
his ardor requites;
the one sure reward of love!
with sobbing voice.
Art thou then dead?
Liv'st thou not?
Hast to the curse succumbed?—
He listens for TRISTAN'S breath.
O rapture! No!
He still moves! He lives!
and gently his lips are stirr'd.
TRISTAN very faintly
The ship—is't yet in sight?
KURVENAL
The ship? Be sure
t'will come to-day:
it cannot tarry longer.
TRISTAN
On board Isolda,—
see, she smiles—
with the cup
that reconciles.
Dost thou see?
Dost thou see her now?
Full of grace
and loving mildness,
floating o'er
the ocean's wildness?
By billows of flowers
lightly lifted,
gently toward
the land she's drifted.
Her look brings ease
and sweet repose;
her hand one last
relief bestows.
Isolda! Ah, Isolda!
How fair, how sweet art thou!—
And Kurvenal, why!—
what ails thy sight?
Away, and watch for her,
foolish I see so well and plainly,
let not thine eye seek vainly
Dost thou not hear?
Away, with speed!
Haste to the watch-tow'r!
Wilt thou not heed?
The ship, the ship!
Isolda's ship!—
Thou must discern it,
must perceive it!
The ship—dost thou see it?—
Whilst KURVENAL, still hesitating, opposes TRISTAN, the Shepherd's pipe is heard without, playing a joyous strain.
KURVENAL springing joyously up
O rapture! Transport!
He rushes to the watch-tower and looks out.
Ha! the ship!
From northward it is nearing.
TRISTAN
So I knew,
so I said!
Yes, she yet lives,
and life to me gives.
How could Isold'
from this world be free,
which only holds
Isolda for me?
KURVENAL shouting
Ahoy! Ahoy!
See her bravely tacking!
How full the canvas is filled!
How she darts! how she flies!
TRISTAN
The pennon? the pennon?
KURVENAL
A flag is floating at mast-head,
joyous and bright.
TRISTAN
Aha! what joy!
Now through the daylight
comes my Isolda.
Isolda, oh come!
See'st thou herself?
KURVENAL
The ship is shut
from me by rocks.
TRISTAN
Behind the reef?
Is there not risk!
Those dangerous breakers
ships have oft shattered.—
Who steereth the helm?
KURVENAL
The steadiest seaman.
TRISTAN
Betrays he me?
Is he Melot's ally?
KURVENAL
Trust him like me.
TRISTAN
A traitor thou, too!—
O caitiff!
Canst thou not see her?
KURVENAL
Not yet.
TRISTAN
Destruction!
KURVENAL
Aha! Halla-halloa I
they clear! they clear!
Safely they clear!
Inside the surf
steers now the ship to the strand.
TRISTAN shouting in joy
Hallo-ho! Kurvenal!
Trustiest friend!
All the wealth I own
to-day I bequeath thee.
KURVENAL
With speed they approach.
TRISTAN
Now dost thou see her?
See'st thou Isolda?
KURVENAL
'Tis she! she waves!
TRISTAN
O woman divine!
KURVENAL
The ship is a-land!
Isolda.'—ha!—
With but one leap
lightly she springs to land!
TRISTAN
Descend from the watch-tow'r,
indolent gazer!
Away! away
to the shore!
Help her! help my belov'd!
KURVENAL
In a trice she shall come;
Trust in my strong arm!
But thou, Tristan,
hold thee tranquilly here!
He hastens off.
TRISTAN tossing on his couch in feverish excitement
O sunlight glowing,
glorious ray!
Ah, joy-bestowing
radiant day!
Boundeth my blood,
boisterous flood!
Infinite gladness!
Rapturous madness!
Can I bear to lie
couched here in quiet?
Away, let me fly
to where hearts run riot!
Tristan the brave,
exulting in strength,
has torn himself
from death at length.
He raises himself erect.
All wounded and bleeding
Sir Morold I defeated;
all bleeding and wounded
Isolda now shall be greeted.
He tears the bandage from his wound.
Ha, ha, my blood!
Merrily flows it.
He springs from his bed and staggers forward.
She who can help
my wound and close it,
she comes in her pride,
she comes to my aid.
Be space defied:
let the universe fade!
He reels to the centre of the stage.
ISOLDA'S VOICE without
Tristan! Tristan! Belovéd!
TRISTAN in frantic excitement
What! hails me the light?
The torchlight—ha!—
The torch is extinct!
I come! I come!
At one side high castellated buildings, on the other a low breastwork interrupted by a watch tower; at back the castle-gate. The situation is supposed to be on rocky cliffs; through openings the view extends over a wide sea horizon. The whole gives an impression of being deserted by the owner, badly kept, and here and there dilapidated and overgrown.
Scene I
In the foreground, in the garden, lies TRISTAN sleeping on a couch under the shade of a great lime-tree, stretched out as if lifeless. At his head sits KURVENAL, bending over him in grief and anxiously listening to his breathing. From without comes the mournful sound of a shepherd's pipe.
Presently the shepherd comes and looks in with interest, showing the upper half of his body over the wall.
SHEPHERD
Kurvenal, ho!—
Say, Kurvenal,—
tell me, friend!
Does he still sleep?
KURVENAL turning a little towards him and shaking his head sadly
If he awoke
it would be
but for evermore to leave us,
unless we find
the lady-leech;
alone can she give help.—
See'st thou nought?
No ship yet on the sea?
SHEPHERD
Quite another ditty
then would I play
as merry as ever I may.
But tell me truly,
trusty friend,
why languishes our lord?
KURVENAL
Do not ask me;—
for I can give no answer.
Watch the sea,
if sails come in sight
a sprightly melody play.
SHEPHERD turns round and scans the horizon, shading his eyes with his hand
Blank appears the sea!
He puts the reed pipe to his mouth and withdraws, playing.
TRISTAN motionless—faintly
The tune so well known—
why wake to that?
opens his eyes and slightly turns his head.
Where am I?
KURVENAL starting in joyous surprise
Ha!—who is speaking?
It is his voice!—
Tristan! lov'd one!
My lord! my Tristan!
TRISTAN with effort
Who—calls me?
KURVENAL
Life—at last—
O thanks be to heaven!—
sweetest life
unto my Tristan newly given!
TRISTAN faintly
Kurvenal!—thou?
Where—was I?—
Where—am I?
KURVENAL
Where art thou?
In safety, tranquil and sure!
Kareol 'tis;
dost thou not know
thy fathers' halls?
TRISTAN
This my fathers'?
KURVENAL
Look but around.
TRISTAN
What awoke me?
KURVENAL
The herdsman's ditty
hast thou heard, doubtless;
he heedeth thy herds
above on the hills there.
TRISTAN
Have I herds, then?
KURVENAL
Sir, I say it!
Thine are court,
castle—all.
To thee yet true,
thy trusty folk,
as best they might,
have held thy home in guard:
the gift which once
thy goodness gave
to thy serfs and vassals here,
when going far away,
in foreign lands to dwell.
TRISTAN
What foreign land?
KURVENAL
Why! in Cornwall;
where cool and able,
all that was brilliant,
brave and noble,
Tristan, my lord, lightly took.
TRISTAN
Am I in Cornwall?
KURVENAL
No, no; in Kareol.
TRISTAN
How came I here?
KURVENAL
Hey now! how you came?
No horse hither you rode:
a vessel bore you across.
But on my shoulders
down to the ship
you had to ride: they are broad,
they carried you to the shore.
Now you are at home once more;
your own the land,
your native land;
all loved things now are near you,
unchanged the sun doth cheer you.
The wounds from which you languish
here all shall end their anguish.
He presses himself to TRISTAN'S breast.
TRISTAN
Think'st thou thus!
I know 'tis not so,
but this I cannot tell thee.
Where I awoke
ne'er I was,
but where I wandered
I can indeed not tell thee.
The sun I could not see,
nor country fair, nor people;
but what I saw
I can indeed not tell thee.
It was—
the land from which I once came
and whither I return:
the endless realm
of earthly night.
One thing only
there possessed me:
blank, unending,
all-oblivion.—
How faded all forebodings!
O wistful goadings!—
Thus I call
the thoughts that all
t'ward light of day have press'd me.
What only yet doth rest me,
the love-pains that possess'd me,
from blissful death's affright
now drive me toward the light,
which, deceitful, bright and golden,
round thee, Isolda, shines.
Accurséd day
with cruel glow!
Must thou ever
wake my woe?
Must thy light
be burning ever,
e'en by night
our hearts to sever?
Ah, my fairest,
sweetest, rarest!
When wilt thou—
when, ah, when—
let the torchlight dwindle,
that so my bliss may kindle?
The light, how long it glows!
When will the house repose?
His voice has grown fainter and he sinks back gently, exhausted.
KURVENAL who has been deeply distressed, now quickly rousts himself from his dejection
I once defied,
through faith in thee,
the one for whom
now with thee I'm yearning.
Trust in my words,
thou soon shalt see her
face to face.
My tongue that comfort giveth,—
if on the earth still she liveth.
TRISTAN very feebly
Yet burns the beacon's spark:
yet is the house not dark,
Isolda lives and wakes:
her voice through darkness breaks.
KURVENAL
Lives she still,
then let new hope delight thee.
If foolish and dull you hold me,
this day you must not scold me.
As dead lay'st thou
since the day
when that accursed Melot
so foully wounded thee.
Thy wound was heavy:
how to heal it?
Thy simple servant
there bethought
that she who once
closed Morold's wound
with ease the hurt could heal thee
that Melot's sword did deal thee.
I found the best
of leeches there,
to Cornwall have I
sent for her:
a trusty serf
sails o'er the sea,
bringing Isold' to thee.
TRISTAN transported
Isolda comes!
Isolda nears!
He struggles for words.
O friendship! high
and holy friendship!
Draws KURVENAL to him and embraces him.
O Kurvenal,
thou trusty heart,
my truest friend I rank thee!
Howe'er can Tristan thank thee?
My shelter and shield
in fight and strife;
in weal or woe
thou'rt mine for life.
Those whom I hate
thou hatest too;
those whom I love
thou lovest too.
When good King Mark
I followed of old,
thou wert to him truer than gold.
When I was false
to my noble friend,
to betray too thou didst descend.
Thou art selfless,
solely mine;
thou feel'st for me
when I suffer.
But—what I suffer,
thou canst not feel for me!
this terrible yearning in my heart,
this feverish burning's
cruel smart,—
did I but show it,
couldst thou but know it,
no time here wouldst thou tarry,
to watch from tow'r thou wouldst hurry;
with all devotion
viewing the ocean,
with eyes impatiently spying,
there, where her ship's sails are flying.
Before the wind she
drives to find me;
on the wings of love she neareth,—
Isolda hither steereth!—
she nears, she nears,
so boldly and fast!
It waves, it waves,
the flag from the mast!
Hurra! Hurra!
she reaches the bar!
Dost thou not see?
Kurvenal, dost thou not see?
As KURNEVAL hesitates to leave TRISTAN, who is gazing at him in mute expectation, the mournful tune of the shepherd is heard, as before.
KURVENAL dejectedly
Still is no ship in sight.
TRISTAN has listened with waning excitement and now recommences with growing melancholy
Is this the meaning then,
thou old pathetic ditty,
of all thy sighing sound?—
On evening's breeze
it sadly rang
when, as a child,
my father's death-news chill'd me;
through morning's mist
it stole more sadly,
when the son
his mother's fate was taught,
when they who gave me breath
both felt the hand of death
to them came also
through their pain
the ancient ditty's
yearning strain,
which asked me once
and asks me now
which was the fate before me
to which my mother bore me?—
What was the fate?—
The strain so plaintive
now repeats it:—
for yearning—and dying!
He falls back senseless.
KURVENAL who has been vainly striving to calm TRISTAN, cries out in terror
My master! Tristan!—
Frightful enchantment!—
O love's deceit!
O passion's pow'r!
Most sweet dream 'neath the sun,
see the work thou hast done!—
Here lies he now,
the noblest of knights,
with his passion all others above:
behold! what reward
his ardor requites;
the one sure reward of love!
with sobbing voice.
Art thou then dead?
Liv'st thou not?
Hast to the curse succumbed?—
He listens for TRISTAN'S breath.
O rapture! No!
He still moves! He lives!
and gently his lips are stirr'd.
TRISTAN very faintly
The ship—is't yet in sight?
KURVENAL
The ship? Be sure
t'will come to-day:
it cannot tarry longer.
TRISTAN
On board Isolda,—
see, she smiles—
with the cup
that reconciles.
Dost thou see?
Dost thou see her now?
Full of grace
and loving mildness,
floating o'er
the ocean's wildness?
By billows of flowers
lightly lifted,
gently toward
the land she's drifted.
Her look brings ease
and sweet repose;
her hand one last
relief bestows.
Isolda! Ah, Isolda!
How fair, how sweet art thou!—
And Kurvenal, why!—
what ails thy sight?
Away, and watch for her,
foolish I see so well and plainly,
let not thine eye seek vainly
Dost thou not hear?
Away, with speed!
Haste to the watch-tow'r!
Wilt thou not heed?
The ship, the ship!
Isolda's ship!—
Thou must discern it,
must perceive it!
The ship—dost thou see it?—
Whilst KURVENAL, still hesitating, opposes TRISTAN, the Shepherd's pipe is heard without, playing a joyous strain.
KURVENAL springing joyously up
O rapture! Transport!
He rushes to the watch-tower and looks out.
Ha! the ship!
From northward it is nearing.
TRISTAN
So I knew,
so I said!
Yes, she yet lives,
and life to me gives.
How could Isold'
from this world be free,
which only holds
Isolda for me?
KURVENAL shouting
Ahoy! Ahoy!
See her bravely tacking!
How full the canvas is filled!
How she darts! how she flies!
TRISTAN
The pennon? the pennon?
KURVENAL
A flag is floating at mast-head,
joyous and bright.
TRISTAN
Aha! what joy!
Now through the daylight
comes my Isolda.
Isolda, oh come!
See'st thou herself?
KURVENAL
The ship is shut
from me by rocks.
TRISTAN
Behind the reef?
Is there not risk!
Those dangerous breakers
ships have oft shattered.—
Who steereth the helm?
KURVENAL
The steadiest seaman.
TRISTAN
Betrays he me?
Is he Melot's ally?
KURVENAL
Trust him like me.
TRISTAN
A traitor thou, too!—
O caitiff!
Canst thou not see her?
KURVENAL
Not yet.
TRISTAN
Destruction!
KURVENAL
Aha! Halla-halloa I
they clear! they clear!
Safely they clear!
Inside the surf
steers now the ship to the strand.
TRISTAN shouting in joy
Hallo-ho! Kurvenal!
Trustiest friend!
All the wealth I own
to-day I bequeath thee.
KURVENAL
With speed they approach.
TRISTAN
Now dost thou see her?
See'st thou Isolda?
KURVENAL
'Tis she! she waves!
TRISTAN
O woman divine!
KURVENAL
The ship is a-land!
Isolda.'—ha!—
With but one leap
lightly she springs to land!
TRISTAN
Descend from the watch-tow'r,
indolent gazer!
Away! away
to the shore!
Help her! help my belov'd!
KURVENAL
In a trice she shall come;
Trust in my strong arm!
But thou, Tristan,
hold thee tranquilly here!
He hastens off.
TRISTAN tossing on his couch in feverish excitement
O sunlight glowing,
glorious ray!
Ah, joy-bestowing
radiant day!
Boundeth my blood,
boisterous flood!
Infinite gladness!
Rapturous madness!
Can I bear to lie
couched here in quiet?
Away, let me fly
to where hearts run riot!
Tristan the brave,
exulting in strength,
has torn himself
from death at length.
He raises himself erect.
All wounded and bleeding
Sir Morold I defeated;
all bleeding and wounded
Isolda now shall be greeted.
He tears the bandage from his wound.
Ha, ha, my blood!
Merrily flows it.
He springs from his bed and staggers forward.
She who can help
my wound and close it,
she comes in her pride,
she comes to my aid.
Be space defied:
let the universe fade!
He reels to the centre of the stage.
ISOLDA'S VOICE without
Tristan! Tristan! Belovéd!
TRISTAN in frantic excitement
What! hails me the light?
The torchlight—ha!—
The torch is extinct!
I come! I come!