Tristan and Isolde
Libretto by Richard Wagner
Premiere: 10 June 1865, Munich (Royal Court and National Theatre)
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TRISTAN AND ISOLDE
Handlung in three acts
Libretto
Richard Wagner
Premiere
10 June 1865, Munich (Royal Court and National Theatre)
Cast
TRISTAN (Tenor)
KING MARKE (Bass)
ISOLDE (Soprano)
KURVENAL (Baritone)
MELOT (Tenor)
BRANGAENE (Mezzo soprano)
SHEPERD (Tenor)
STEERSMAN (Baritone)
VOICE OF YOUNG SAILOR (Tenor)
CHORUS
ship's crew, knights and pages
Place
Cornwall, Brittany and the sea
Time
The legendary days of King Arthur
ACT ONE
Prelude
At sea, on the deck of Tristan's ship during the crossing from Ireland to Cornwall.
SCENE ONE
Isolde, Brangaene and a Sailor
VOICE OF A YOUNG SAILOR
Westward
strays the eye,
eastward
flies our ship.
Fresh blows the wind
homeward:
my Irish maid,
where do you linger?
Is it the breath of your sighs
that fills our sails?
Blow, blow, o wind!
Woe, ah woe, my child,
my Irish maid,
you headstrong, winsome maid!
ISOLDE
suddenly starting up
Who dares to mock me?
She looks around her in bewilderment
Brangaene, speak! Where are we?
BRANGAENE
Blue streaks
arose in the east;
the ship sails
smooth and swift:
on this calm sea, by evening
we shall safely reach land.
ISOLDE
What land?
BRANGAENE
Cornwall's green shore.
ISOLDE
Never!
Neither today nor tomorrow!
BRANGAENE
hastening in consternation to Isolde
What is this I hear, my lady? Eh?
ISOLDE
gazing wildly before her
Degenerate race,
unworthy of your forebears!
Mother, what has become
of the power to command
sea and storm that you gave up?
O enfeebled art
of sorcery
that now brews only healing draughts!
Awaken again in me,
mighty power;
emerge from my bosom,
where you lay hiding!
Hear my will,
ye timorous winds!
Come forth to the strife
and din of tempest,
to the furious clamour
of raging storms!
Force this dreaming sea
from its sleep,
waken from its depths
its resentful greed!
Show it the booty
I offer it!
Wreck this arrogant ship,
and let the waves devour its shattered fragments!
And all that lives
and draws breath on it
I leave to you winds as prize!
BRANGAENE
in the greatest alarm, concerning herself with Isolde
Alas!
Ah! Ah,
the evil that I dreaded!
Isolde! My lady!
Dear heart!
What have you hid from me so long?
Not one tear did you shed
for father or mother;
scarcely one farewell
did you bid those left behind.
Parting from your homeland
cold and silent,
pale and mute
on the journey;
without food,
without sleep;
numb and wretched,
haggard and distraught;
how could I bear
to see you so,
to be nothing more to you,
to be cut off from you?
O tell me now
what troubles you!
Tell me frankly
what torments you,
dearest, lovely
lady Isolde!
Confide now in Brangaene
and let her think herself worthy of you.
ISOLDE
Air! air!
My heart is suffocating within me!
Open! Open wide there!
Brangaene quickly draws the curtains apart in the middle.
SCENE TWO
The above, Tristan, Kurvenal, Sailors, Knights and Squires
VOICE OF A YOUNG SAILOR
Fresh blows the wind
homeward:
my Irish maid,
where do you linger?
Is it the breath of your sighs
that fills our sails?
Blow, blow, o wind!
Woe, ah woe, my child!
ISOLDE
whose eyes at once settle on Tristan: darkly, aside
Destined for me,
lost to me,
splendid and strong,
bold and cowardly!
Head and heart
consecrated to death!
to Brangaene
What do you think of that varlet?
BRANGAENE
following her gaze
Whom do you mean?
ISOLDE
That hero there
who hides his gaze
from mine
and casts down his eyes
in shame and embarrassment.
Say, how does he seem to you?
BRANGAENE
Is it of Tristan you ask,
Dear lady,
that wonder of all kingdoms,
that highly vaunted man,
that peerless hero,
the crown and embodiment of fame?
ISOLDE
mocking her
Who, shrinking from an encounter,
seeks refuge where he can,
since he won for his lord
a corpse‑like bride!
Do my words seem
obscure to you?
Then ask him yourself,
that free man,
whether he dare approach me.
The craven hero
forgets the homage
and reverence
due to his lady,
so that her eye shall not fall on him,
this peerless hero!
Oh, he well
knows why!
Go to this proud man,
take him his lady's word:
let him come to me at once,
ready at my service.
BRANGAENE
Shall I ask him
to wait upon you?
ISOLDE
Let fear of me,
Isolde, his queen,
command this
stubborn man!
At Isolde's imperious gesture Brangaene withdraws and humbly goes along the deck to the stern.
KURVENAL
seeing Brangaene coming, pulls at Tristan's cloak, without rising
Take care, Tristan!
A message from Isolde.
TRISTAN
with a start
What is it? Isolde!
He quickly recovers himself as Brangaene reaches him and curtsies.
From my lady?
Does her faithful maid
ceremoniously bring
something for her obedient
servant to hear?
BRANGAENE
Sir Tristan,
my lady Isolde
wishes
to see you.
TRISTAN
If the long journey irks her,
it will soon be at an end;
before the sun sinks
we shall reach land.
Whatever my lady commands of me
shall faithfully be performed.
BRANGAENE
Then let Sir Tristan
go to her:
that is my lady's will.
TRISTAN
Yonder where the green fields
are still tinged with blue to the sight,
my king waits
for my lady;
soon I will come before her
to escort her to him;
to no one will I cede
this privilege.
BRANGAENE
Sir Tristan,
listen well:
my lady claims
as your service
that you should come to the spot
there where she awaits you.
TRISTAN
Wherever I stand,
faithfully I serve her,
the glory of all women:
were I to leave the helm
just now,
how could I safely
steer the ship
to King Marke's country?
BRANGAENE
Tristan, my lord!
Why do you mock me?
Does this foolish maid
not make herself clear?
Hearken to my lady's words!
Thus she bid me say:
Let fear of her,
Isolde his queen,
Command
this stubborn man.
KURVENAL
springing up
May I make answer?
TRISTAN
quietly
What then would you reply?
KURVENAL
Say this
to the lady Isolde:
He who bestows Cornwall's crown
and England's realm
to Ireland's maid
cannot be at the beck
and call of her whom he
himself brings his uncle as gift.
The hero Tristan
is a lord of all the world!
I cry, say thus, even though a thousand
Lady Isoldes resent my words!
While Tristan tries to restrain him with gestures, and Brangaene indignantly turns to go back, Kurvenal sings at the top of his voice after her hesitantly retreating figure.
"Sir Morold crossed
the sea to us
to exact tributes from Cornwall:
on an island swimming
in the sea's expanse,
there now is he buried!
His head now hangs
in Ireland
as tribute paid
by England.
Hey! this is how our hero
Tristan pays tribute!"
Kurvenal, sent off reprovingly by Tristan, goes below. Brangaene returns in dismay to Isolde, closing the curtains behind her, while the whole crew can be heard outside.
ALL THE MEN
"His head now hangs
in Ireland
as tribute paid
by England.
Hey! this is how our hero
Tristan pays tribute!"
SCENE THREE
Isolde and Brangaene alone. Isolde raises herself with a gesture of despair and rage. Brangaene throws herself at her feet.
BRANGAENE
Alas, alas!
To endure this!
ISOLDE
on the verge of a terrible outburst, quickly recovering herself
What now from Tristan?
I wish to hear exactly!
BRANGAENE
Ah, do not ask!
ISOLDE
Speak freely without fear!
BRANGAENE
His words were courteous
but evasive.
ISOLDE
But when you clearly pressed it?
BRANGAENE
When I bade him come
to you at this spot,
he said that
wherever he stood
he would faithfully serve you,
the glory of all women
were he to leave
the helm just now,
how could he safely steer the ship
to King Marke's country?
ISOLDE
with bitter irony
"How could he safely steer the ship
to King Marke's country?"
harshly and violently
To pay him the tribute
he took from Ireland!
BRANGAENE
To your own words,
as I relayed them to him,
he let his follower Kurneval answer …
ISOLDE
I heard him well;
no word of his escaped me.
You perceive my shame,
now hear how it came about.
As they laugh
and sing their songs at me
I well could answer too:
how a boat,
small and frail
came to Ireland's coasts,
and in it lay
a sick and stricken man,
near to death.
Isolde's art
was made known to him:
with healing salves
and soothing draughts
she faithfully tended
the wound that tormented him.
"Tantris"
which with studied guile he called himself
Isolde soon recognized
as Tristan,
for into the sick man's sword,
in which there was a notch,
there fitted exactly
a splinter
which her skilled hand
had first found in the head
of the Irish knight,
sent home to her in scorn.
A cry arose
from my inmost being!
With the gleaming sword
I stood before him,
to avenge Sir Morold's death
on him, this overweening knight.
From his couch
he looked up,
not at the sword,
not at my hand,
but looked into my eyes.
His anguish
touched my heart.
The sword I let fall!
The wound inflicted by Morold
I healed, so that in health
he could travel homeward
and trouble me no more with his gaze!
BRANGAENE
O wonder! Where were my eyes?
The guest whom once
I helped to tend?
ISOLDE
You heard him praised just now:
"Hey! our hero Tristan" –
this was that woebegone man.
With a thousand oaths he swore
eternal thanks and fidelity to me!
Now hear how a hero
keeps his oath!
He whom as Tantris
I released unexposed
boldly returns
as Tristan;
on stately,
high‑prowed ship
he requests Ireland's heiress
as bride
for Cornwall's weary king,
for Marke, his uncle.
Had Movold lived,
who would have dared
to offer such an affront?
For our vassals,
the Cornish princes,
to seek Ireland's crown!
Ah, woe is me!
It was I
who in secret brought
this shame upon myself!
Instead of wielding
the avenging sword,
I let it fall harmlessly!
Now I must serve Our vassal!
BRANGAENE
When peace, armistice and friendship
were sworn by all,
we all rejoiced in that day:
how could I have known
that it would bring you grief?
ISOLDE
O blind eyes!
Faint hearts!
Craven spirit,
despairing silence!
How openly
Tristan bragged forth
what I held concealed!
She who silently
gave him his life
by her silence sheltered him
from his foemen's revenge:
that which her protection silently
provided to help him
he rendered up with her!
Exulting in victory,
how heartily,
how loud and clear
he spoke of me:
"She would be a prize,
my lord and uncle:
what think you of her as bride?
I will bring you
the Irish beauty:
since I well know
the way to her,
one sign from you, and I will hasten
to Ireland,
and Isolde shall be yours!
The venture appeals to me!"
Curse on you, traitor!
Curses on your head!
Revenge! Death!
Death to us both!
BRANGAENE
throwing herself on Isolde with impetuous tenderness
O sweetest,
dearest, fairest,
golden lady!
Beloved Isolde!
She gradually draws Isolde to the couch.
Hear me! Come!
Sit down here!
What madness!
What needless fury!
Why do you choose to fly into a frenzy
so that you can neither see nor hear clearly?
Whatever Sir Tristan
owes you,
say, how could he higher repay you
than with the most splendid of crowns?
Thus he faithfully has served
his noble uncle:
to you he has given
the world's most coveted reward:
noble and true,
he has yielded
his own inheritance at your feet,
to greet you as queen!
Isolde turns away.
And if he has sought Marke
as husband for you,
how could you reproach his choice?
Is he not to be thought worthy of you?
Of exalted race
and gentle manner,
who in might and splendour
could equal the man
whom the noblest of heroes
truly serves?
Who would not share his fortune
and be wife to him?
ISOLDE
gazing fixedly before her
Unloved,
to see the noblest man
close beside me!
How could I endure that torture?
BRANGAENE
What mean these perverse words?
Unloved?
She approaches lsolde flatteringly and caressingly.
Where lives the man
who would not love you?
Who, seeing Isolde,
would not for Isolde
gladly die?
But were he who chose you
never so cold,
or turned from you
by some witchcraft,
I would soon know
how to bind him by a spell.
I would conjure up love's might.
secretly and confidentially, very close to Isolde
Know you not
your mother's arts?
Think you that she
who wisely considers all
would have sent me with you
to a strange land without her counsel?
ISOLDE
darkly
My mother's counsel
I know well,
and her arts
I prize and welcome –
vengeance for treachery,
peace for the heart in anguish!
Bring here to me that casket!
BRANGAENE
It holds the balm you need.
She fetches a small golden casket, opens it and indicates its contents.
Thus did your mother arrange
the mighty magic potions –
balsam here
for woe and wounds,
antidotes
for deadly poisons.
She brings out a phial.
The noblest draught
I hold here!
ISOLDE
You mistake, I know one better:
I engraved
a private sign on it.
She seizes a phial and shows it.
This is the draught for my purpose!
BRANGAENE
recoiling in horror
The draught of death!
Isolde has risen from the couch and with increasing horror hears the sailors' cries.
SAILORS
outside
Ho! He! Ha! He!
Shorten sail
on the lower mast!
Ho! He! Ha! He!
ISOLDE
That means the end of the journey.
Alas! We are nearing land!
SCENE FOUR
The above and Kurvenal
KURVENAL
Get ready, ladies!
Lively now!
Stir yourselves!
Get ready now, and quick!
more formally
And to Lady Isolde
I am to say
from my master,
the hero Tristan,
that from the mast our joyful flag
gaily blows towards the shore;
it makes your approach known
in Marke's royal castle.
Therefore he begs
Lady Isolde to hasten
to prepare herself for the land,
so that he may escort her.
ISOLDE
with calm and dignity, after first shrinking back with a shudder at the message
Take Sir Tristan
my greeting
and tell him what I say
if I am to go at his side
to stand before King Marke,
according to the code of custom
this cannot be
unless I first
receive atonement
for unexpiated wrong:
so let him seek my pardon.
Mark me well,
and tell him plainly:
I will not prepare myself
to accompany him on shore;
I will not walk by his side
to stand before King Marke
unless he first,
by custom's code,
begs me to forgive
and forget
an unatoned wrong:
let him seek my pardon.
KURVENAL
Be assured,
I will tell him this;
but wait and see how he takes it!
He hurries back. Isolde hastens to Brangaene and embraces her vehemently.
ISOLDE
Now farewell, Brangaene!
Greet the world for me,
greet my father and mother!
BRANGAENE
What is it? What have you in mind?
Would you flee?
Whither am I to follow you?
ISOLDE
quickly collecting herself
Did you not hear?
I will stay here
and wait for Tristan.
Faithfully obey
my orders:
quickly prepare
the drink of atonement –
you know the one I showed you?
She takes the phial from the casket.
BRANGAENE
Which draught was it?
ISOLDE
This one!
Pour it out into
the golden goblet;
it will hold it all.
BRANGAENE
receiving the phial with horror
Do I hear aright?
ISOLDE
Do my bidding!
BRANGAENE
For whom ... is the draught?
ISOLDE
Let him who betrayed me ...
BRANGAENE
Tristan?
ISOLDE
… drink atonement to me!
BRANGAENE
throwing herself at Isolde's feet
Horror! Spare your poor servant!
ISOLDE
vehemently
Spare me,
faithless maid!
Know you not
my mother's arts?
Think you that she
who wisely considers all
would have sent me with you
to a strange land without her counsel?
Balsam she gave me
for woe and wounds,
antidotes
for deadly poisons;
for the deepest woe
and greatest grief
she gave me the draught of death.
Let Death now give her thanks!
BRANGAENE
scarcely in control of herself
O deepest woe!
ISOLDE
Now will you obey me?
BRANGAENE
O greatest grief!
ISOLDE
Are you true to me?
BRANGAENE
The draught?
KURVENAL
entering
Sir Tristan!
Brangaene rises in alarm and bewilderment. Isolde makes a tremendous effort to compose herself.
ISOLDE
to Kurvenal
Let Sir Tristan approach!
SCENE FIVE
Tristan, Isolde and Brangaene. Latewr Kurvenal, Saiulors, Knights and Squires.
Kurvenal goes back again; Brangaene, scarcely in command of herself, retires to the background. Isolde, pulling herself together with a great effort of will, walks slowly and with great dignity towards the couch, leaning on its head and fixing her eyes on the entrance. Tristan enters and remains respectfully at the entrance. Isolde, in fearful agitation, is absorbed in watching him. A long silence.
TRISTAN
Demand, lady,
what you will.
ISOLDE
Do you not know
what my will is,
even though fear
of fulfilling it
kept you far from my sight?
TRISTAN
Respect
kept me away.
ISOLDE
Scant honour
you paid me:
with open scorn
you refused
obedience to my command.
TRISTAN
Obedience alone
held me in check.
ISOLDE
Then small are my thanks
to your lord
if his service
counselled discourtesy
towards his chosen bride.
TRISTAN
Where I have lived,
custom dictates
that he who accompanies
the bride home
must keep his distance from her.
ISOLDE
For fear of what?
TRISTAN
Ask custom!
ISOLDE
Since you, Sir Tristan,
are so mindful of custom,
let one other custom
be recalled to mind:
to make atonement to a foe
if he is to acclaim you as a friend.
TRISTAN
Who is my foe?
ISOLDE
Ask of your fear!
A blood feud
hangs between us.
TRISTAN
That was resolved.
ISOLDE
Not between us!
TRISTAN
In the open field
before all the people,
an oath of peace was sworn.
ISOLDE
It was not sworn
when I hid Tantris
and Tristan fell to me.
There he stood lordly,
strong and whole;
but what he swore
I did not swear:
I had learned to keep silent.
When he lay sick
in that quiet room,
mutely I stood before him
with the sword:
I held my tongue,
I stayed my hand ...
but what I once with hand
and tongue had promised
I silently swore to keep.
Now I will discharge my oath.
TRISTAN
What did you swear, lady?
ISOLDE
Revenge for Morold!
TRISTAN
Does that distress you?
ISOLDE
Do you dare to mock me?
He was betrothed to me,
the noble Irish hero;
I had blessed his weapons;
for me he went forth to fight.
When he fell,
my honour fell with him;
in my heart's anguish
I took an oath
that if no man would avenge his murder
I, a maid, would dare to do so.
Why did I not strike you
when sick and faint
in my power?
You can easily now answer yourself.
I tended the wounded man
so that, restored to health,
he should be struck down in vengeance
by one who had won Isolde from him.
You yourself may now
utter your fate!
Since all men pay him homage,
who is there to strike Tristan down?
TRISTAN
pale and sombre
If Morold was so dear to you,
then take up that sword again
and wield it surely and firmly
so that you do not let it slip from your grasp!
He offers her his sword.
ISOLDE
How ill would I serve
your master;
what would King Marke say
were I to slay
the best of his knights,
who won for him a crown and country,
the most trusted of his men?
Do you hold so light
the thanks he owes you
for bringing him
his Irish bride,
that he would not blame me
if I slew the wooer
who so faithfully delivers
the pledge of peace to his hand?
Put up your sword!
Once I raised it
when vengeance raged
in my bosom,
when your gaze weighed me up
to see if I should be
a worthy bride
for King Marke.
I let the sword fall then.
Now let us drink atonement!
She beckons Brangaene, who, terrorstricken, falters and hesitates. Isolde urges her on with intensified gestures. Brangaene starts to prepare the potion.
SAILORS
Ho! He! Ha! He!
Take in
the topsail!
Ho! He! Ha! He!
TRISTAN
starting up from gloomy brooding
Where are we?
ISOLDE
Near the goal!
Tristan, do I have your atonement?
What have you to say to me?
TRISTAN
sombrely
The queen of silence
bids me be silent:
I grasp what she concealed,
I conceal what she cannot grasp.
ISOLDE
Your silence I grasp;
you would evade me.
Do you refuse to make atonement to me?
SAILORS
Ho! He! Ha! He!
At Isolde's impatient sign Brangaene brings the cup filled.
ISOLDE
taking the cup to Tristan, who looks her steadily in the eyes
You hear the call?
We have reached our goal.
In a few moments
we shall stand
with quiet scorn
before King Marke.
As you conduct me in,
would you not think it well
that you could say to him:
"My Lord and uncle,
look at her! A gentler wife
you could not discover.
Her betrothed
I once slew
and sent her home his head:
the wound his sword
inflicted on me
she kindly healed.
My life lay
in her power:
the gracious maid
granted me it,
and along with it
gave me her country's
disgrace and shame
so as to become your bride.
Such gracious thanks
for gifts of worth
I earned by a sweet
draught of atonement
which in clemency she offered me
to make amends for all my guilt."
SAILORS
Stand by the ropes!
Let go the anchor!
TRISTAN
starting up wildly
Let go the anchor!
Put the helm to the current!
Sails and mast to the wind!
He seizes the cup from her.
Well do I know
Ireland's queen
and the magic power
of her arts.
The balsam she once gave me
I took for my good;
this goblet now I take
that today will heal me completely.
Heed well
the oath of atonement
which I make you, with my thanks!
To Tristan's honour
highest troth!
To Tristan's torment
boldest defiance!
Heart's deception,
dream of presentiment!
Sole balm
for endless grief,
oblivion's kindly draught,
I drink thee without flinching!
He raises the cup and drinks.
ISOLDE
Betrayed here too?
Half is mine!
She wrests the cup from him.
Traitor, I drink to you!
She drinks, then throws the cup away. Both, seized with awe, in the greatest excitement but motionless, took fixedly into each other's eyes, in which the expression of defiance of death soon gives way to the glow of love.
Trembling seizes them: they clutch convulsively at their breasts and pass their hands over their foreheads. Then their eyes again seek each other, drop in confusion, then fix themselves again on each other with increasing longing.
ISOLDE
in a trembling voice
Tristan!
TRISTAN
beside himself
Isolde!
ISOLDE
sinking on his breast
Faithless dear one.
TRISTAN
embracing her ardently
Most blessed maid!
They remain in a silent embrace. Trumpets are heard from afar.
MEN'S VOICES
outside, on the ship
Hail! King Marke, hail!
BRANGAENE
who has been leaning over the side, her face averted in confusion and horror, now turns and sees the pair locked in a loving embrace: she rushes forward, wringing her hands in despair
Alas, alas!
Inescapable,
eternal pain
instead of speedy death!
Foolish devotion's
deceitful work
now blossoms forth in lamentation!
Tristan and Isolde both start from their embrace.
TRISTAN
confused
What did I dream
of Tristan's honour?
ISOLDE
What did I dream
of Isolde's shame?
TRISTAN
You lost to me?
ISOLDE
You reject me?
TRISTAN
Malicious cunning
of a deceitful spell!
ISOLDE
Idle threats
of foolish anger!
TRISTAN
Isolde!
ISOLDE
Tristan!
TRISTAN
Sweetest maid!
ISOLDE
Dearest man!
BOTH
How our hearts
beat in exaltation!
How all our sense
are enraptured!
Swelling blossoms
of yearning passion,
blissful glow
of languishing love!
Now joyful longing
in our breast!
Isolde! Tristan!
Escaped from the world,
I have won you!
Supreme joy of love,
I am aware of you alone!
The curtains are torn wide apart: the whole ship is filled with knights and sailors, who joyfully wave from on board towards the shore, which is seen near at hand, with a cliff crowned with a tall castle. Tristan and Isolde remain lost in mutual contemplation, oblivious of what is happening around them.
BRANGAENE
to the women, whom she beckons up from below
Quick, the mantle,
the royal robe!
She breaks in between Tristan and Isolde
Up, fatal pair!
Hear where we are!
She puts the royal robe on Isolde, who does not notice.
ALL THE MEN
Hail!
King Marke, hail!
Hail to the king!
KURVENAL
Hail, Tristan,
fortunate hero!
ALL THE MEN
Hail! King Markel
KURVENAL
Therein his boat
King Marke draws near
with a right royal retinue.
I low gladly he sets forth
to claim his bride!
TRISTAN
looking up in bewilderment
Who draws near?
KURVENAL
The king.
TRISTAN
What king?
Kurvenal points over the side.
ALL THE MEN
waving their hats
Hail! King Marke, hail!
Tristan gazes as if stupefied at the shore.
ISOLDE
in bewilderment
What is it, Brangaene?
What is that cry?
BRANGAENE
Isolde! My lady!
Collect yourself!
ISOLDE
Where am I? Living?
What draught was that?
BRANGAENE
despairingly
The draught of love.
ISOLDE
gazing in dismay at Tristan
Tristan!
TRISTAN
Isolde!
ISOLDE
Must I live?
She falls unconscious on his breast.
BRANGAENE
to the women
Help your lady!
TRISTAN
O rapture rich in malice!
O bliss inspired by guile!
ALL THE MEN
Cornwall, hail!
ACT TWO
Prelude
In Marke's royal castle in Cornwall. A garden with tall trees in front of Isolde's chamber.
SCENE ONE
Isolde and Brangaene
ISOLDE
Do you hear them still? To me the sound
has already died away in the distance.
BRANGAENE
listening
They are still near:
they ring out clearly there.
ISOLDE
listening
Anxious fear
deceives your ear.
You are deluded
by the rustle of leaves
that the wind laughingly shakes.
BRANGAENE
You are deluded
by the wildness of your desire
into hearing only what you choose to.
She listens.
I can hear the winding of the horns.
ISOLDE
listening again
No winding of horns
sounds so sweet;
the gentle plashing
of the fountain
ripples so joyfully yonder.
How could I hear it
if the horns were blowing?
In the silence of the night
only the fountain laughs to me.
Would you keep afar from me the one
who waits for me in the silent night,
by thinking the horns
still sound near at hand?
BRANGAENE
The one who waits for you ...
o hear my entreaty!
Spies wait for him by night.
Because you blind yourself,
think you that the world's eyes
grow dim for you?
On board ship,
when Tristan's trembling hand
delivered to King Marke
the pale bride,
scarcely in possession of herself,
as all looked in wonder
on her shrinking
and the kindly king,
gently solicitous,
loudly deplored the hardship of the long
journey that you had suffered,
one there was –
I marked him well –
who fixed his eyes only on Tristan.
With malicious craft
he sought by stealthy looks
to find in his mien
something to serve his purpose.
Often I see him,
spitefully watching:
he is laying secret snares for you;
beware of Melot!
ISOLDE
Mean you Sir Melot?
O how deceived you are!
Is he not Tristan's
truest friend?
When my dear one must shun me,
then with Melot alone does he stay.
BRANGAENE
What makes me mistrustful
endears him to you!
Melot's path
is from Tristan to Marke:
there he sows evil seed.
Those who today
so suddenly and hastily planned
this hunt by night
are intent on
a nobler quarry
than you, in your fancies, imagine.
ISOLDE
Friend Melot
devised this stratagem
from sympathy
to help his friend.
Now will you reproach his fidelity?
He looks after me better
than you do:
he opens ways
that you close to me.
O end my agony of waiting!
The signal, Brangaene!
Give the signal!
Quench the torch's
last glow.
Give night the sign
that she may descend on us.
Already she sheds her silence
over grove and house
filling the heart
with blissful tremors.
O put out the light now,
extinguish its deterring glare!
Let my loved one come!
BRANGAENE
O leave the warning flame,
let it show you your danger!
Alas, alas!
Woe is me
for that hapless draught!
That I disloyal only once
should have worked
against my lady's will!
Had I obeyed, deaf and blind,
your deed then
would have been death.
But must I bear
the guilt forever
for your shame
and grievous pain?
ISOLDE
Your deed?
O foolish maid!
Know you not the goddess of love
and the power of her magic?
She who rules over
the proudest spirit
and governs
the world's unfolding?
Life and death
are thrall to her,
which she weaves from joy and sorrow,
changing envy into love.
I presumptuously took
death's work into my hands:
the goddess of love snatched it
from my grasp.
She took me,
death‑consecrated, as pledge
and seized the work
in her hand.
However she turns it,
however she ends it,
whatever she reserves for me,
wherever she leads me,
I have become her very own:
now let me show my obedience!
BRANGAENE
If the baleful draught
of love
has quenched your light of reason,
if you will not see
that of which I warn you,
only hear now,
hear my supplication!
The shining light of danger,
for today, but for today,
do not extinguish the torch!
ISOLDE
She who fans the glow
within my bosom,
who sets my heart
on fire,
who laughs like daylight
in my soul,
the goddess of love desires
night to come,
that she may brightly shine there
She hastens to the torch.
where she has banished your light.
She takes the torch from the door.
Now to the watch‑tower:
keep good watch!
Laughing,
I fear not to quench the torch,
even were it the flame of my existence!
She throws the torch to the ground, where it gradually goes out. Brangaene turns away in dismay. Isolde listens and looks out, diffidently at first, into an avenue: moved by growing longing, she paces closer to the avenue and gazes more intently. A gesture of sudden delight reveals that she has caught sight of her beloved in the distance.
SCENE TWO
Tristan and Isolde.
TRISTAN
rushing in
Isolde! Beloved!
ISOLDE
running to him
Tristan! Beloved!
passionate embrace
Are you mine?
TRISTAN
Do I hold you again?
ISOLDE
Dare I embrace you?
TRISTAN
Can I believe it?
ISOLDE
At last! At last!
TRISTAN
Here on my breast!
ISOLDE
Is it really you I feel?
TRISTAN
Do I really see you?
ISOLDE
These your eyes?
TRISTAN
These your lips?
ISOLDE
This your hand?
TRISTAN
This your heart?
ISOLDE
Is it I? Is it you?
You in my arms?
TRISTAN
Is it I? Is it you?
Is it no illusion?
BOTH
Is it no dream?
O rapture of my soul,
sweetest, highest,
boldest, loveliest,
blissful joy!
TRISTAN
Unparalleled!
ISOLDE
Supreme treasure!
TRISTAN
Supreme joy!
ISOLDE
For ever!
TRISTAN
For ever!
ISOLDE
Unimagined,
unknown!
TRISTAN
Overflowing,
sublime!
ISOLDE
Overwhelming joy!
TRISTAN
Entrancing bliss!
BOTH
Highest heaven's
oblivion of the world!
Mine! Tristan / Isolde mine!
Mine and thine!
One for ever and ever!
ISOLDE
How long apart!
How far apart so long!
TRISTAN
How far when near!
How near when afar!
ISOLDE
O foe to friendship,
spiteful distance!
Dragging length
of sluggish hours!
TRISTAN
O distance and nearness,
harshly divided!
Blessed nearness,
tedious distance!
ISOLDE
You in the darkness,
I in the light!
TRISTAN
The light, the light!
O that light,
how long before it was put out!
The sun had sunk,
the day was done,
but it would not
suppress its envy:
its signal of alarm
shone out,
planted by my beloved's door
so that I should not go to her.
ISOLDE
But your beloved's hand
put out the light;
I feared not to do so
though my maid hindered me:
in the power and protection of the love goddess
I defied the day!
TRISTAN
The day! The day!
Hate and detestation
of the envious day,
the cruellest foe!
Would that, as you quenched the torch,
I could extinguish the glare
of importunate daylight,
to avenge all love's sorrows!
Is there one grief
or one pain
that it does not awaken
with its light?
Even in the spreading
splendour of night
my beloved sheltered it at her house,
reaching out to me like a threat.
ISOLDE
If your beloved
harboured it at her house,
once it was defiantly harboured,
clear and bright,
by my lover
in his own heart –
Tristan, who betrayed me!
Was it not the day
in him that lied
when he went
to Ireland to woo,
to win me for Marke,
and doom his true love to death?
TRISTAN
The day! The day
which shone around you,
in which you shone
like the sun,
in highest honour's
gleaming light,
seized Isolde from me!
What so enchanted
my eye
weighed my heart
down to earth:
how could Isolde be mine
in the shining light of day?
ISOLDE
Was she who chose you
not yours?
What lies
did spiteful day tell you,
that you betrayed the beloved
who was destined for you?