Tristan and Isolda

Автор

Рихард Вагнер

Год написания книги

2019

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ISOLDA (quickly). Vengeance for Morold!

TRISTAN (quietly). Mindst thou that?

ISOLDA (animated). Dare you to flout me?—
Was he not my betrothed,
that noble Irish knight?
For his sword a blessing I sought;
for me only he fought.
When he was murdered
no honor fell.
In that heartfelt misery
my vow was framed;
if no man remained to right it,
I, a maid, must needs requite it.—
Weak and maimed,
when might was mine,
why at thy death did I pause?
Thou shalt know the secret cause.—
Thy hurts I tended
that, when sickness ended,
thou shouldst fall by some man,
as Isolda's revenge should plan.
But now attempt
thy fate to foretell me?
if their friendship all men do sell thee,
what foe can seek to fell thee?

TRISTAN (pale and gloomy, offers her his sword). If
thou so lovedst this lord,
then lift once more my sword,
nor from thy purpose refrain;
let the weapon not fail again.

ISOLDA. Put up thy sword
which once I swung,
when vengeful rancor
my bosom wrung,
when thy masterful eyes
did ask me straight
whether King Mark
might seek me for mate.
The sword harmless descended.—
Drink, let our strife be ended!

(ISOLDA beckons BRANGÆNA. She trembles and hesitates to obey. ISOLDA commands her with a more imperious gesture. BRANGÆNA sets about preparing the drink.)

VOICES OF THE CREW (without). Ho! heave ho! hey!
Reduce the sail!
The foresail in!
Ho! heave ho! hey!

TRISTAN (starting from his gloomy brooding). Where
are we?

ISOLDA. Near to shore.

TRISTAN, is warfare ended?
Hast not a word to offer?

TRISTAN (darkly). Concealment's mistress
makes me silent:
I know what she conceals,
conceal, too, more than she knows.

ISOLDA. Thy silence nought
but feigning I deem.
Friendship wilt thou still deny?

(Renewed cries of the Sailors.)

(At an impatient sign from ISOLDA BRANGÆNA hands her the filled cup.)

ISOLDA (advancing with the cup to TRISTAN, who gazes immovably into her eyes).
Thou hear'st the cry?
The shore's in sight:
we must ere long (with slight scorn)
stand by King Mark together.

SAILORS (without). Haul the warp!
Anchor down!

TRISTAN (starting wildly).
Down with the anchor!
Her stern to the stream!
The sails a-weather the mast!

(He takes the cup from ISOLDA.)

I know the Queen
of Ireland well,
unquestioned are
her magic arts:
the balsam cured me
which she brought;
now bid me quaff the cup,
that I may quite recover.
Heed to my all—
atoning oath,
which in return I tender