[_The whole length of the ship is now seen, down to the stern, with
the sea and horizon beyond. Round the mainmast sailors are ensconced,
busied with ropes; beyond them in the stern are groups of knights and
attendants, also seated; a little apart stands_ TRISTAN_ folding
his arms and thoughtfully gazing out to sea; at his feet_ KURVENAL
_reclines carelessly. From the mast-head above is once more heard
the voice of the young sailor_.]
THE YOUNG SAILOR (_at the mast-head invisible_).
The wind so wild
blows homewards now;
my Irish child,
where waitest thou?
Say, must our sails be weighted,
filled by thy sighs unbated?
Waft us, wind strong and wild!
Woe, ah woe for my child!
ISOLDA (_whose eyes have at once sought_ TRISTAN _and fixed
stonily on him--gloomily_). Once beloved--
now removed--
brave and bright,
coward knight!--
Death-devoted head!
Death-devoted heart!--
(_laughing unnaturally_).
Think'st highly of yon minion?
BRANGÆNA (_following her glance_).
Whom mean'st thou?
ISOLDA. There, that hero
who from mine eyes
averts his own:
in shrinking shame
my gaze he shuns--
Say, how hold you him?
BRANGÆNA. Mean you Sir Tristan,
lady mine?
Extolled by ev'ry nation,
his happy country's pride,
The hero of creation,--
whose fame so high and wide?
ISOLDA (_jeeringly_).
In shrinking trepidation
his shame he seeks to hide,
While to the king, his relation,
he brings the corpse-like bride!--
Seems it so senseless
What I say?
Go ask himself,
our gracious host,
dare he approach my side?
No courteous heed
or loyal care
this hero t'wards
his lady turns;
but to meet her his heart is daunted,
this knight so highly vaunted!
Oh! he wots
well the cause!
To the traitor go,
bearing his lady's will!
As my servant bound,
straightway should he approach.
BRANGÆNA. Shall I beseech him
to attend thee?
ISOLDA. Nay, order him:
pray, understand it:--
I, Isolda
do command it!
[_At an imperious sign from ISOLDA BRANGÆNA withdraws and timidly
walks along the deck towards the stern, past the working sailors.
ISOLDA, following her with fixed gaze, sinks back on the couch,
where she remains seated during the following, her eyes still turned
sternward_.]
KURVENAL (_observing Brangæna's approach, plucks Tristan by the robe
without rising_.) Beware, Tristan!
Message from Isolda!
TRISTAN (_starting_). What is't?--Isolda?--
(_He quickly regains his composure as BRANGÆNA approaches and
curtsies to him_.)
What would my lady?
I her liegeman,
fain will listen
while her loyal
woman tells her will.
BRANGÆNA. My lord, Sir Tristan,
Dame Isolda
would have speech
with you at once.
TRISTAN. Is she with travel worn?
The end is near:
nay, ere the set of sun
sight we the land.
All that your mistress commands me,
trust me, I shall mind.
BRANGÆNA. That you, Sir Tristan,
go to her,--
this is my lady's wish.
TRISTAN. Where yonder verdant meadows
in distance dim are mounting,
waits my sov'reign
for his mate:
to lead her to his presence
I'll wait upon the princess:
'tis an honor
all my own.
BRANGÆNA. My lord, Sir Tristan,
list to me:
this one thing
my lady wills,
that thou at once attend her,
there where she waits for thee.
TRISTAN. In any station
where I stand
I truly serve but her,
the pearl of womanhood.
If I unheeding
left the helm,
how might I pilot her ship
in surety to King Mark?
BRANGÆNA. Tristan, my master,
why mock me thus?
Seemeth my saying
obscure to you?
list to my lady's words:
thus, look you, she hath spoken:
"Go order him,
and understand it,
I--Isolda--
do command it."
KURVENAL (_springing up_). May I an answer make her?
TRISTAN. What wouldst thou wish to reply?
KURVENAL. This should she say
to Dame Isold':
"Though Cornwall's crown
and England's isle
for Ireland's child he chose,
his own by choice
she may not be;
he brings the king his bride.
A hero-knight
Tristan is hight!
I've said, nor care to measure
your lady's high displeasure."
[_While_ TRISTAN _seeks to stop him, and the offended_
BRANGÆNA _turns to depart_, KURVENAL _sings after her at the
top of his voice, as she lingeringly withdraws_.]
"Sir Morold toiled
o'er mighty wave
the Cornish tax to levy;
In desert isle
was dug his grave,
he died of wounds so heavy.
His head now hangs
in Irish lands,
Sole were-gild won
at English hands.
Bravo, our brave Tristan!
Let his tax take who can!"
[KURVENAL, _driven away by_ TRISTAN'S _chidings, descends into
the cabin_. BRANGÆNA _returns in discomposure to_ ISOLDA,
_closing the curtains behind her, while all the men take up the
chorus and are heard without_.]
KNIGHTS AND ATTENDANTS.
"His head now hangs
in Irish lands,
sole were-gild won
at English hands.
Bravo, our brave Tristan!
Let his tax take who can!"