Tristan und Isolde (Wagner)/Act 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. Fet do you hear? I lost the sound some time.Brang. (listening). Still do they stay: clearly ring the horns.Isolda (listening). Fear but deludes thy anxious ear; by sounds of rustling leaves thou'rt deceived, aroused by laughter of winds.Brang. 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?Brang. 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.Brang. 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: how 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!Brang. 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 magie 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.Brang. 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 flights 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 than, 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.
Tris. (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! Unconceivéd, unbelievéd, 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!Tris. 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?Tris. 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 cut-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 rame, 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.)Both. O night of rapture rest upon us! lift our lives remembrance from us; let us but abide with thee: from the world oh set us free! Extinguished in the twilight's streaming all our doubting, all our dreaming, all our mem'ries, all our fancies: sacred twilight's soft advances bid vain fears to cease,— from the world release. Hid our hearts away sunlight's streaming, bliss would bloom from stars' tender beaming. To thy enchantment we surrender, beneath thy gaze so wondrous tender; heart to heart and lip to lip, each the other's breath we sip. Blissful beams our eyes are binding, abashed is earth with radiance blinding: lit by the daylight's dazzling lie, undaunted by falsehoods which we defy thou'rt my world, thine am I Wondrous rapture weaving, cherished visions achieving, ne'er daunted by daylight's beam by our undying dream.(Tristan and Isolda sink into oblivious ecstasy reposing on the flowery bank close together).Brang. (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, belovéd!Tris. Let me die thus!Isolda (slowly raising herself a little). Envious watcher!Tris. (remaining in reclining position). I'll ne'er waken.Isolde. But the Day must dawn and rouse thee?Tris. (raising his head slightly). Let the Day to Death surrender!Isolda. Day and Death will both engender feud against our passion tender. Tris. (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!Tris. Each the other's—Isolda. Own for aye,—Tris. Never fearing—Isolda. Never waking—Tris. 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.Tris. (bends smilingly to Isolda). Shall I listen?Isolda (looking fondly up at Tristan). Let me die thus!Tris. Must I waken?Isolda. Nought shall wake me!Tris. Must not daylight dawn, and rouse me?Isolda. Let the Day to Death surrender!Tris. May thus the Day's evil threats be defied?Isolda (with growing enthusiasm). From its thraldom let us fly.Tris. 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 spoke, 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.]Kurv. 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.Tris. The dready day— its last time comes!Melot (to Mark). Now say to me, my sov'reign, was my impeachment just? I staked my head thereon; now is the pledge redeemed? Behold him in the very act: honour 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 faithfullest of friends, too! His offence so black and base fills my heart with anguish and disgrace. Tristan traitor, what hope stayeth that the honour he betrayeth should by Melot's rede rest to me indeed?Tris. (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 done, 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 he 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?Tris. (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?Tris. (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!(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.)