Tristan and Isolda Act III Scene 4

Scene IV

MELOT
Woe's me!—Tristan!
He dies.

BRANGÆNA still without
Kurvenal! Madman!
O hear—thou mistakest!

KURVENAL
Treacherous maid!
To his men.
Come! Follow me!
Force them below!
They fight.

MARK without
Hold, thou frantic man!
Lost are thy senses?

KURVENAL
Here ravages Death!
Nought else, O king,
is here to be holden!
If you would earn it, come on!

He sets upon MARK and his followers.

MARK
Away, rash maniac!

BRANGÆNA has climbed over the wall at the side and hastens in the front
Isolda! lady!
Joy and life!—
What sight's here—ha!
Liv'st thou, Isolda! She goes to ISOLDA'S aid.

MARK who with his followers has driven KURVENAL and his men back from the gate and forced his way in
O wild mistake! Tristan, where art thou?

KURVENAL desperately wounded, totters before MARK to the front
He lieth—there—
here, where I lie too.—
Sinks down at TRISTAN'S feet.

MARK
Tristan! Tristan!
Isolda! Woe!

KURVENAL trying to grasp TRISTAN'S hand
Tristan! true lord!
Chide me not
that I try to follow thee! He dies.

MARK
Dead together!—
All are dead!
My hero Tristan!
truest of friends,
must thou again
be to thy king a traitor?
Now, when he comes
another proof of love to give thee!
Awaken! awaken.
O hear my lamentation,
thou faithless, faithful friend!
Kneels down sobbing over the bodies.

BRANGÆNA who has revived ISOLDA in her arms
She wakes! she lives!
Isolda, hear!
Hear me, mistress beloved!
Tidings of joy
I have to tell thee:
O list to thy Brangæna!
My thoughtless fault I have atoned;
after thy flight
I forthwith went to the king:
the love potion's secret
he scarce had learned
when with sedulous haste
he put to sea,
that he might find thee,
nobly renounce thee
and give thee up to thy love.

MARK
O why, Isolda,
Why this to me?
When clearly was disclosed
what before I could fathom not,
what joy was mine to find
my friend was free from fault!
In haste to wed
thee to my hero
with flying sails
I followed thy track:
but howe'er can
happiness
o'ertake the swift course of woe?
More food for Death did I make:
more wrong grew in mistake.

BRANGÆNA
Dost thou not hear?
Isolda! Lady!
O try to believe the truth!

ISOLDA unconscious of all around her, turning her eyes with, rising inspiration on TRISTAN'S body
Mild and softly
he is smiling;
how his eyelids sweetly open!
See, oh comrades,
see you not
how he beameth
ever brighter—
how he rises
ever radiant
steeped in starlight,
borne above?
See you not
how his heart
with lion zest,
calmly happy
beats in his breast?
From his lips
in heavenly rest
sweetest breath
he softly sends.
Harken, friends!
Hear and feel ye not?
Is it I
alone am hearing
strains so tender
and endearing?
Passion swelling,
all things telling,
gently bounding,
from him sounding,
in me pushes,
upward rushes
trumpet tone
that round me gushes.
Brighter growing,
o'er me flowing,
are these breezes
airy pillows?
Are they balmy
beauteous billows?
How they rise
and gleam and glisten!
Shall I breathe them?
Shall I listen?
Shall I sip them,
dive within them,
to my panting
breathing win them?
In the breezes around,
in the harmony sound
in the world's driving
whirlwind be drown'd—
and, sinking,
be drinking—
in a kiss,
highest bliss!

ISOLDA sinks, as if transfigured, in BRANGÆNA'S arms upon TRISTAN'S body. Profound emotion and grief of the bystanders. MARK invokes a blessing on the dead. Curtain.