Part 15 (1/2)
The curtain rising shows the rich pavilion on shi+p-deck where Isolde hides her face froainst the cushi+ons of a day-bed
Her attendant, Brangaene, stands gazing over the shi+p-side The voice of a young sailor is heard froh the Cornish diplo theirthelee they feel over the hunified in this present carrying off of Ireland's proudest jewel Isolde, spite of all courteous forarded by them as, in a sense, a prize of war So seaman, who permits himself references to the ”wild and lovely Irish hs which swell his sail The words penetrate through Isolde's absorption; she starts up in sudden fury, crying: ”Who dares to rossed in other scenes that she did not, on returning to the light of day, know for a aene, and remembers, and inquires where they are ”Streaks of blue are rising up out of the West,” Brangaene describes what she is watching, ”softly and swiftly sails the shi+p; on a cal we surely shall reach the land”--”What land?” Isolde asks unexpectedly ”The verdant coast of Cornwall”--”Nevermore!” bursts froaene hurries to her, alar at the hurricane of passion she now lets loose,--calling upon the arts ofsea and stor upon the winds and waves to wreck this insolent shi+p and drown everyone upon it! Brangaene stands aghast What she had but dis to herto cal fro from father and mother
Hardly a word of farewell did you speak to those re behind
Coldly and dumbly you left the land of ho no food, taking no sleep, deeply troubled, rigid and wretched,--how a to you, to stand before you as a stranger? Oh, tell me what troubles you! Tellyou! If she is to think herself in any aene!” The unhappy Isolde, suffocating, gasps for air: ”Air! Air! My heart is saene hurriedly draws apart the tapestries which form the wall of the apartment at the back The deck of the shi+p is seen frohts and their esquires lounging Tristan stands apart fro abstractedly over the water His servant Kurwenal lies idly outstretched at his feet Isolde's eyes at once find the half-averted figure; her absorption in it becorossing hiing over again the song she had before resented; ”O Irish hs which fills my sails?” Slow, involuntary, words drop fro to herself, while her eyes brood gloomily upon the unconscious head ”Mine elected,--lost to me! Lofty and beautiful,--brave and craven! Death-devoted head! Death-devoted heart!” Starting awake at the ring of her oords, she laughs unpleasantly and, turning to Brangaene: ”What do you think of the lackey yonder?” Brangaene's glance follows Isolde's She does not understand ”Wholance froazes away fro, aene asks in wonder, ”of Tristan, the marvel of all nations, the man of exalted renown, the hero without equal, honour's treasure and vaunt?” Isolde catches up her tone, to continue in scornful e wherever he can, having won for hisdark to you? Go then and ask himself, the presumably free man, whether he dare to venture near ets toward his sovereign lance ht on him Oh, he no doubt knohy!” Suddenly over controlled rancour: ”Go to the haughty one,” she orders Brangaene, ”bear to hie from his lady: Let him come into my presence forthwith, prepared to do aene timidly interprets ”Nay,” Isolde storms, ”let the self-sufficient one be warned to fear the mistress! That do I bid hi along the deck, past the sailors at their work, toward the solitary figure of the knight
She watches the two fixedly while their interview lasts
Kurwenal, catching sight of the wos at his e froests how complete his abstraction, and what the effect of that naaene coe-directions say, _he rapidly composes himself_
Deferently he inquires of his lady's wishes Bragaene tells hiins the series of his evasions, courteous as possible, but detere, that is nigh ended Before sunset we shall touch land Whatsoever orders aene repeats the order: ”Let Sir Tristan then go to her, such is our lady's will”--”Yonder where the greenawaits my lady That I ht One To none would I yield the privilege”
The maid repeats, still patiently: ”Tristan, my lord, listen and attend: My lady requests your service,--that you should betake yourself to the place where she awaits you”--”At what place soever I be found, faithfully do I serve her, to the greater honour of women If I should forsake the hel Mark's land?” Brangaene's temper flashes a faint reflection of Isolde's fire ”Tristan,clear to you, hear my mistress's oords This she bade me say: Be warned, a self-sufficient one, to fear theTristan time to hesitate, Kurwenal jumps up: ”May I frame an answer?”--”What would your answer be?” Tristan asks, for the moment at a loss And Kurwenal, very loud, that his words may not fail to reach Isolde's ears: ”This say to Madam Isolde: That he who made over to the maid of Ireland the crown of Cornwall and the inheritance of England cannot be the chattel of that same maid, presented by himself to his uncle A lord of the world,--Tristan, the hero! I cry it aloud and do you reportupon me the wrath of a thousand Madam Isoldes!” Tristan has vainly tried to silence hinantly hastens away, the irrepressible servant sings after her at the top of his voice a ment of ballad, popular no doubt in Cornwall: ”Lord Morold came over the sea to Cornwall to collect tribute An island floats in a lonely sea, there he now lies buried His head, however, hangs in Ireland, the tribute paid by England Hurrah for our lord Tristan! What a one is he to pay tribute!” Tristan drives the fellow off, orders him below But the whole crew have taken up the last lines of the song and shout the froht the cruel rabble Isolde, who has with difficulty controlled herself, seems on the point of an outburst, but she quells it, and in the restored silence asks with forced composure: ”But now, about Tristan?--I wish to be told exactly” Brangaene, at first unwilling, reports the interview When she has finished, Isolde, whose anger has made room for a sorrowful intense dejection, reveals to her what explains the humour, to her so far inexplicable, of herafresh at their exposure, Isolde makes the relation almost tearfully ”You have been a witness toto s I could reply if I would!
Of a boat I could tell which, small andht, at the point of death” She tells the story of her recognition in this Tantris of Tristan; of her resolve to take ieance upon him; of the look which disaro home and burden her no aene ”Where were uest whom I once helped to nurse?”--”You heard his praise a o! 'Hurrah for our lord Tristan!' He was that unhappy ratitude to me, and truth Now hear how a hero keeps his word He whom I dismissed unknown as Tantris, as Tristan comes boldly back On a proud tall shi+p he draws to land, and desires the heiress of Ireland inof Cornwall, for Mark, his uncle In Morold's lifetime who had ventured to offer us such an affront? To sue for the crown of Ireland for the King of the tribute-owing Cornish!+ Oh, woe is me! It was I, I, who in secret prepared forsword, weak, I let it drop Now I aaene, when all is told, does not apparently recognise in the situation cause for so much bitterness ”When peace, reconciliation, and friendshi+p were sworn on all sides,” she says wonderingly, ”we all rejoiced to see the day How could I suppose it was a source of affliction to you?” The point then appears of that bitterness, which would hardly in reality have been a point but for a senti those which Isolde confesses to her confidante That what she kept silent the other should reveal! That what he could only know and live to report through the weakness of her wolory and his relative's advantage! She paints his attitude, as she i at her and saying in loud, clear tones: ”There were a treasure for you, my lord and uncle! What do you think of her as a wife? The pretty Irish-wo to you here By roads and by-paths well known to ht in the adventure!” The picture goads her to very uish like the roar of a baited and wounded lioness, she breaks into eance upon hie and insupportable pain,--death upon theaene shoords of endearment on the exhausted friend, hushes her with caresses, heaps, as it were, sently to a seat, co her ord and touch Then she holds up all in a different light, endeavours toreasonably, as it must appear to others ”What delusion is this?
What idle raving? How can you stultify yourself till you neither can see nor hear? Whatever debt of gratitude Sir Tristan owes you, tell nificent of crowns? Thus does he at the same time faithfully serve his noble uncle and bestow upon you the world's enerous and true-hearted, his own inheritance, and placed it at your feet, that he h him you are to wed Mark, how should you find fault with the choice?
Can you fail to prize and honour the entle nature, where is his equal in power and splendour? Who would not wish to share his good fortune, as consort to tarry beside hireatest of heroes so devotedly serves?” Isolde, but half heeding, has fallen again to her aene's last words find their way to her brain and produce an iic eyes As before, unconscious in her perturbation that she is doing it, she voices her inhts audibly, like a somnambulist: ”Unloved by him, to behold the unrivalled aene catches the words, and innocently supposes theainst this unaccountably hu, perverse one? Unloved?
Where does the man live ould not love you? Who could see Isolde and not blissfully dissolve in love for her? But, if so were that he who has been chosen for you should be of a nature to that degree cold, if so were that soic drew him away from you, I should kno very soon to bind the unkind one to you, the power of love should work its spell upon him” She draws so near to Isolde that she can speak without fear of being overheard ”Do you forget your s so sagely, has sent e land?”--”At the right moment I ahtfully before her; ”Her art I prize and welcoeance it affords for the betrayal, peace in the need of the heart Bring the casket here to aene joyfully hurries to fetch the sers the phials
”In this very order were they placed by your ic potions For hurts and wounds here is balm; here, for poison, is counterpoison” She takes out and holds up before Isolde with a significant sht of all I hold here!” Isolde pushes aside her hand and stretches her own to the casket ”You are mistaken I know better which one that is I ht which shall serve aene stares at the phial which Isolde has taken fro
A sing-song shout interrupts the in sail,--a reminder to Isolde that the land, the terrible land, is near Kurwenal hurries in: ”Up, up, you ladies!
Briskly and cheerily! Quickly prepare to land! Ready at once, nimble and spry! And to Madam Isolde I was to say from Tristan, myher approach known in Mark's royal castle Wherefore he begs Madam Isolde to haste and make ready, that he may escort her ashore” Isolde, for ahorror at her realization of the decisive moment so near, reconquers her conity and calh-born ladies to haste ”To Sir Tristan bear s and report to him what I say If he look to haveMark, as custom and seemliness demand, let him know that this shall in no wise happen if he have not before sought pardon of me for an uncondoned offence Let hiesture signifies his stiff-necked resistance to her coally peremptory than before: ”Take careful heed of what I say and carefully report it I refuse to make ready to accompany hi Mark, unless he have before, as is fit and becoetfulness of an unexpiated fault Let hirace!”--”Be quite sure that I shall tell hio: ”Noait and see how he takes it!”
Isolde flings her araene!
Commend me to the world! Commend me to my father and , yet half frightened; ”What are you ht? Whither must I follow you?”--”Nay, did you not hear? I shall remain where I am
I intend to await Tristan Follow faithfully ht,--you know the one I showed you”--”What draught do youto understand
Isolde takes it out of the coffer once aene to see well, the little deadly phial ”This draught!
Pour it into the golden goblet; it will contain the whole without bri it into the irl, ”for whom?”--”For him who betrayed aene falls at Isolde's feet, entreating her to spare her ”Do you spare irl!” Isolde passionately chides What was the purpose, she asks, of that provision e land? For hurts and wounds she had given balm; for poison, antidote; for deepest woe, for utht: thanks be rendered to her now--by death! Brangaene still resisting, Isolde ile is cut short by Kurwenal announcing Tristan Brangaene staggers to the back Isolde visibly suth, and with queenly self-possession bids Tristan approach
Thescene has the effect of lifting the story on to a plane of larger things The proportions of the personages, in the light of themusic, are seen to be heroic, their natures vast, their passions, in their very treust
Tristan stops at the entrance and waits deferentially Constraintmoment of heavy-laden silence He is first to speak: ”Make known to me, lady, your wish!+” She comes to the point at once ”Do you not knoish, when the dread of fulfilling it has kept you afar frolance?”
He evades her, as he had before evaded Brangaene ”Reverence laid its compulsion upon me!”--”Small reverence have you shown me With overt scorn you have refused obedience to my command”--”Obedience alone restrained me”--”Paltry cause should I have to thank your master, if his service required of you discourtesy to his own consort”--”Custom demands,” he quietly meets this, ”where I have lived, that the escort of the bride, while bringing her home, should keep afar from her presence”--”For what reason?”--Stiffly as he stands, his answer resereat a regard for custom, my lord Tristan,” Isolde mocks, ”let me remind you of what likewise is a custom: to make peace with the enemy, if he is to report you as his friend” ”And what enemy?” he questions, unuiltiness stands between us!”--”That was ood!”--”Not between us!”--”In the open field, before the asseeance rest”--”Not there was it, not in the open field, that I kept Tantris concealed, that Tristan lay at nificent, hale and brave; the thing however which he swore, I fore bore to swear I had learned to keep silence When he lay languishi+ng in the hushed chah hwhich I had sith hand and mouth I silently renewed my oath to perform
I now intend to keep it”--”What did you swear, lady?” Tristan asks sieance for Morold!” she hurls at hi over hihbourhood, her voice, no ry and cruel ones, have an effect of lulling, ofthe real world seem unreal ”Are you concerned for that?” he asks, with the sincerity of that state of having lost grasp on things as it is agreed to pretend they are ”Dare you to allant Irish hero I had consecrated his arms, for me he went into battle When he fell, my honour fell with him In the heaviness of eance for his murder, I, a woman, would find the hardihood for it Why, when sick and feeble you lay in my power, I did not strike, explain to yourself by easy interpretation: I cared for your wound, that a eful hand of hie for yourself nohat your doom shall be Since the men are all your adherents, who is to smite Tristan?”
More than ever it see down upon his But he has perfectly seized her , and even in a dream a man acts in character Pale and self-contained, he hands her his unsheathed sword, and his voice shows a first tinge of emotion as he speaks the name of Morold, whom, it would alain take up the sword, and drive it surely and steadfastly, that it rasp!”
If she see in her regal rage, she is again, ita different aspect of the great feline, a sort of cruelty, a need to tor Mark say if I were to slay his best servant, the most faithful of his retainers, on for him crown and land? Does it seem to you such a paltryhome to him the Irish bride, that he would not chide, should I slay the envoy who so faithfully delivers into his hands the hostage of the peace-compact? Put up your sword!
When upon a tieance, at your gazing upon me with an eye that tookMark”--(There, there is point of insufferable bitterness!)--”I let the sword sink Let us drink now to our reconciliation!”
By a sign she orders Brangaene to bring the draught The poor creature shrinks away shuddering Isolde, by a gesture aene is seen treolden cup Again the sing-song chorus is heard, of the sailors hauling in the topsail The sound falls with a shock upon Tristan's ear ”Where are we?” he cries, in bewildernificantly They are so close indeed to the end of their voyage that anything there is to say must be said now, and she invites, with a first suspicion of softness, soret, some explanation before they die, so return to the woman who had nursed and saved him ”Tristan, shall I obtain auarded now as earlier; the co upon him than before ”The lady of silence,” he replies darkly, ”teaches me to be silent I apprehend, mayhap, what she concealed I conceal what she does not apprehend!”--”I shall apprehend the reason of your silence,” she exclairily, ”if you ?”
Brangaene has brought the cup Tristan gazes rigidly into Isolde's eyes as she approaches hie nears its end
In brief space we shall stand,” her lip curls with irony, ”before King Mark! As you lead me to him, should you not deem it an apt speech to make: My lord and uncle, look at her well! A meeker woman you could never hope to win I slew her affianced, I sent horaciously healed