ML 50 W14T8 1897 ■ ' : ■ -V ' "' _ - CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE MUSIC LHBRABv ... „.. ..FPSSS Un| verslty Library ML 50.W14T8 1897 Tristan and Isolde / 3 1924 022 274 678 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022274678 TRISTAN AND ISOLDE FROM THE GERMAN OF RICHARD \yAGNER In the mixed Alliterative and Rhyming Metres of the Original by ALFRED FORMAN Translator of Der Ring des Nibelungen With facsimile of an inscription by the Author to the Translator LONDON DAVID NUTT, 270 Strand 1897 THE WORLD'S FAREWELL TO RICHARD WAGNER. February 13TH, 1883. ppAREWELL, Great Spirit ! Thou by whom alone, -*- Of all the Wonder-doers sent to be My signs and sureties Time-ward, unto me My inmost self has ceased to be unknown ! Others have been as glasses where was shown The fashion of my face, or where to scan The secrets of my utmost offspring — Man — And learn to what his worth or shame had grown ; The worship of their names has filled the sky, Their thunder has been heard, their lightning seen, Yet after-suns have rolled themselves on high And still have found me with unaltered mien ; Thou only so hast dealt with me that I Can be no more as if thou hadst not been. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE. The version here presented (a reprint of the privately circu- lated edition) is not intended to be taken in strict and continuous company with the music, and I have not considered it necessary to print the numerous alternative readings which would be requisite for such a purpose. The reader is requested to make the following corrections : — Page ia. After " What makes thee deem so madly " insert a comma. ,, 13. For " Were he thou hast chosen " read " Were the one by thee chosen" ,, 19. For " answer to my behest " read " in answer to my behest." ,, 20. After " ere as friend thy foe can own thee" insert full stop. ,, 25. Line 10 from bottom, for " aud " read " and " „ 34. For " fairest fiercest," read "fairest, fiercest," „ 40. For "foresaken" read "forsaken" ,, 50. After " against both lords and land " insert a comma. „ 71. In fourth stage-direction, after "The Herdsman" insert a comma. ,, 72. After " through the gate no passage is gained " insert a note of exclamation. PERSONS. TRISTAN. KING MARKE. ISOLDE. KURWENAL. MELOT. BRANG^NE. A HERDSMAN. A STEERSMAN. SAILORS, KNIGHTS AND SQUIRES. TRISTAN AND ISOLDE. FIRST ACT. (A tent-like room, on the fore-deck of a ship, richly hung with tapestry, at first quite closed in at the back ; at one side a narrow stair-way leads down into the hold. ) (Isolde on a couch, with her face buried in the cushions. Brang^ene, holding back a fall of the tapestry, looks over the ship's side. ) A Young Sailor's Voice {above, as if from the mast). West-ward sweeps my sight ; east-ward slides the ship. The wind is wild on homeward way ; my Irish child, where dost thou stay ? Is it the sighs thou spendest, that so to my sail thou sendest ? — Wind, be woeful and wild ! Wild and woeful, my child ! Irish maid, thou matchless, wildering maid ! Isolde (starting up). Who thus can have mocked me ? — (She looks wildly about. ) Brangaene, tbou ? — Say, where are we ? Brangaene (at the opening). Lines of blue are rising aloft in the west ; fast and safely sails the ship ; Tristan and Isolde. the billowless sea ere sunset will bring us lightly to land. Isolde. To land ? What land ? Brang^ene. Cornwall's grassy strand. Isolde. Not to-night ; nor ever after ! Brancene (lets the curtain fall and runs in trepidation to Isolde). What mean'st thou ? Mistress ! Ha ! Isolde {wildly to herself). O bastardly Jjreed to the blood of its fathers ! To whom, O mother, mad'st thou away thy might o'er the winds and the waters ? Unmeet and tame the magic has turned, that of nought but healing can tell ! Once more let me bring its unwavering might aloft from my bosom where buried it lies ! Hark to my will, you winds of the welkin ! With blaze and rush of battle arise ! To wildering height upharrow the water ! Drive from its dreams this slumbering sea ! Rouse from the bottom its billowing wrath ; bid it behold the booty I bring it ; this heedless, unshuddering ship Tristan and Isolde. let it hurl asunder and hide ! And of all that with breath and being is on it, I make to you breezes a meed ! BRANGjENE (in the greatest terror, pressing about Isolde). Woe ! Ah, woe ! Alas ! Alas ! The sorrow that I foresaw ! — Isolde ! Mistress ! Sweetest life ! What hast thou hid so long ? With tearless face thou from father and mother wast taken ; hardly a look was left for thy home behind ; to thy folk was wafted no farewell word ; on board we brought thee dazed and blind ; sleep and food thou hast since forsworn ; fierce hast been, or fixed and breathless. So to see thee must I suffer — stand before thee strange — be found thy maid no more ? From me O keep not what it means ! Isolde ! Mistress ! Unseal thy mind ; give me to know it ! Ungrudgingly show it ! Of solace, for what befell thee, - the right have I lost to tell thee ? Isolde. Air ! Air ! I am weak at heart ! Open ! Open it wide ! (Brakg^ne hastily draws the curtains apart in the middle. ) 4 Tristan and Isolde. (A view is opened right along the ship to the stern, and thence overboard on to the sea, as far as the horizon. In the middle, round the main-mast, are groups of sailors, busied with ropes ; beyond them, at the stern, are collected Knights and Squires ; a little apart from them stands Tristan with folded arms, thoughtfully looking out to sea; Kurwenal lies carelessly at his feet. From above on the mast is heard again the song of the Young Sailor.) Isolde {whose look has swiftly lighted on Tristan, from whom it remains unmoved, gloomily to herself). Led to choose him, — left to lose him, — whole and kingly, bold and coward — ; death-behighten head ! Death- behighten heart ! {To Brancene, with a forced laugh.) He makes a heedful henchman ! Brang*ne (following her look). Who, mistress ? Isolde. He, the hero, who keeps his manful face from mine, who shoots his glance aside in shame : — what looks he to thee like ? Brancene. Canst thou of Tristan in such wise talk, the wonder past all others, the man who spreads his name, the hero beyond brothers, the hold and haunt of fame ? Isolde {mockingly). Who bends his forehead faster than blows he has to dread, Tristan and Isolde. 5 since here he has got for his master a bride as good as dead ! — Should dark my saying seem of drift, seek from the matchless man himself if me he dares to meet ? Of worship, heed, and seemly wont his rightful queen he keeps bereft, lest her look alone should strike him — the leader with none like him ! O he well can answer why ! — To his greatness go, a message give him from me ; on my will to wait let him briskly follow thee back. BRANGvENE. To seek thee here shall I beseech him ? Isolde. Isolde bids, as bound to hear her, him her vassal fitly fear her. (At a sign of command from ISOLDE, Brang,«ne leaves her and walks along the deck, past the sailors at their work, to the stern. Isolde, following her with fixed look, retires backwards to the couch again, where she remains during what follows with her eyes steadily directed towards the helm. ) KURWENAL (who sees Brang^ne coming, without raising himself, pulls Tristan by the skirt). Have heed, Tristan ! Hither sends Isolde. Tristan (starting'). How so ! — Isolde ? — 6 Tristan and Isolde. (He quickly recovers himself as Brang^ene reaches him and bends before him. ) To me, my mistress ? — In words she will not need to waste, of what to mind me comes her trusted maid ? BRANGjENE. That hence to greet her Sir Tristan go, my queen and mistress craves by me. i Tristan. Irks her the seafare's length, it soon will end ; ere yet the sun is low lie we at land : the bidding, from her that thou bringest, fitly be fulfilled ! BrANGjENE. Her side then let Sir Tristan seek ; such was her whole behest. Tristan. Where Cornwall's grassy borders yet deep in blue are buried, waits to claim her Mark' my king ; to set her safe before him, my queen I soon shall come for ; from Tristan none shall take the task. BRANGjENE. To me, Sir Tristan, turn thy mind ; I said before that Frau Isold' thy service craves, where yonder she waits to see thee come. Tristan and Isolde. 7 Tristan. No matter where on earth we meet, my heed is first for her, the flow"r of woman's worth. Rest I not near the rudder now, how lead I meetly the keel to Mark' of Cornwall's land ? Brang^ene. What makes Sir Tristan mock my task ? Fail I so much to yield her mind, mark what herself she said ! Such was the message sent thee : — Isolde bids, as bound to hear her, him her vassal fitly fear her. KURWENAL (leaping up). May I be left to answer ? Tristan. What from thy lips were the word ? KURWENAL. This let her say to Frau Isold'. — Who Cornwall's queen and England's heir of Ireland's daughter makes, no might on him can have the maid he brings his uncle home. A lord of earth he is by birth ! My mind were so unfolded, if a thousand Isoldes scolded. (Tristan tries by gestures to silence him, and Bran&iENE turns angrily to go. As she slowly retires Kurwenal sings after her with all his might.) 8 Tristan and Isolde. " Sir Morold went on board, that we to tithe-feast might be bidden ; an island swims the barren sea and holds his body hidden ; . but safe at home his head is laid, as tithe by England truly paid. Tristan our hero hail, when tithe is found to fail ! " (Rebuked by Tristan, Kurwenal has gone below into the fore- hold. Brang^ne returns in confusion to Isolde and closes the curtains behind her, while the whole cretv repeats from without the end »/" Kurwenal' s song.) (Isolde rises with gestures of rage and despair.) BRANGiENE (throwing herself at her feet). Shame and sorrow, such to suffer ! Isolde (on the brink of a terrible outburst, quickly collecting herself). The news from Tristan ! f With truth see that thou tell it. ,., ,*/ BrANGjENE. O, seek it not ! Isolde. Forth speak without fear. BRANGJENE. In courtly words aloof he kept. Isolde. But when he well had listened ? . . . BRANG.ENE. When plain I hither bade him haste, Tristan and Isolde. his answer was : where'er he be, his heed is first for her, the flower of woman's worth ; rests he not near the rudder now, how leads he meetly the keel to Mark' of Cornwall's land ? Isolde (with bitter intensity). " How leads he meetly the keel to Mark' of Cornwall's land" . . . to count him out his cargo of tithe from Ireland's King ! Brancene. At sound of what I told him thy tongue itself had said, his henchman-comrade Kurwenal . . . Isolde. No word of all he sent me, but what I heard it well ! My wrong thou here hast witnessed, now hearken whence it arose, — In songs as loud and suchlike laughter with ease my lips might answer . . . about a lost and lonely boat, on Ireland's coast that lit ; a man inside it, sick and maimed, at door of death was seen. Isolde's leech-craft soon he learned ; with balm-salves and with balsam-sap the hurt that so hard beset him her hand was swift to soothe. Though " Tantris " was the name in whose craft he had caught her, Tristan and Isolde. yet to " Tristan " to turn it, it soon was taught her, when nigh to his sword once seated, on a notch in it lo she lighted and found it fit a shard she brought it, which Morold's head, the day she thought it a scorn that scarred her land, had left in her heedful hand.— My deepest soul its groan upsent ; with the sheathless sword I tow'rds him went, with him for his over-mettle in Morold's death, to settle. From where he rested rose his look, — not on the sword, not on my hand, but fixed on my face he held it. With his wretched hap my heart was wrung ; the sword ... I downward sank it ; from the wound, that so fretted and wore him, I healed him . . . and stood before him . . . and freed him without guerdon, . . . of his look to lose the burden. Brang^ne. O wonder ! Where had I my wits ? The guest I helped to guard and heal . . . ? Isolde. His praise but now thou heardest : " Tristan our hero hail ! " — He was it we saw so pale ! — A thousand oaths he swore me of faith and thankful service. Now hark how a hero's oaths are held ! . . . Who as Tantris, unseen had homeward slunken, Tristan and Isolde. as Tristan, boldly floats him back a flaunting ship of lordly shape ; Ireland's heiress he comes to ask as bride for Mark' his kinsman, for Cornwall's listless King. Ere Morold's death what man would have dared a scorn of such depth to do us ? For tithe-plight Cornwall at Ireland's crown with open face to aim ! — Ah shame ! Unwittingly I it was who bared myself to such a blow ! The venging sword not in vain to have seized, my fist should have plunged it faster ; now find I my vassal master. BRANGJENE. When faith and peace and friendship in sight of all were sworn to, we deemed it a burdenless day ; no trace I beheld of the hurt that it tore in thy heart ! Isolde. O blunted eyes ! O blinded bosoms ! — O daunted soul ! O dastard silence ! — How boldly out he boasted the whole of what so well I hid ! . . . Whose dumbness kept him safe from death, whose silence foiled his searching foes, the secret of all 2 Tristan and Isolde. her wordless aid to the light open he laid. With heart and look uplifted high, in my praise aloud he prated at lip ! " Of such a Sweet, my kinsman-king, how ween you for a wife ? The Irish filly let me fetch ; I've stridden ev'ry step before ; a nod — I hie to her once more ; she's yours in little after ; the feat is light as laughter ! " — For curses and hate be kept his head ! Vengeance ! Death ! Death to us both ! BRANGjENE {with impetuous tenderness, throwing her arms round Isolde). Isolde ! Dearest ! Fairest ! Sweetest ! Thy fancy how with words thou heatest ! Think not ! Mind not ! Sit by me ! — [She draws Isolde gradually to the couch.) Whence such a whim ? Such empty wildness ? What makes thee deem so madly behold and hear so badly ? For aught, to what Sir Tristan owes thee, couldst thou better be beholden than a crown so great and golden ? King Mark' he serves by such a deed, and meets thee too with truest meed ; Tristan and Isolde. his goodly heirdom he all foregoes, a gift at thy feet to make it, as queen to behold thee take it. (Isolde turns away ; Brang^ne continues.) And when to his Uncle it is that he weds thee, is it meet that the choice be chidden ? In Mark' is thy worth not bidden ? So high of mood, so mild of heart, who matches the man in light and might ? Whom such a hero so truly serves, who might not as mate abide him and sit in his wealth beside him ? Isolde (with fixed and vacant look). Unbeloved of the lordly man, to see him for ever near me . . . like flame to the soul it would sear me ! BRANGjENE. What fills thy fancy ? Unbeloved ? — Where left is the man who could fail to love thee, who Isold' could see and in Isold' not madden to melt his soul ? Were he thou hast chosen chill to the heart, fixed him a spell of freezing spite, his unheeding mood with haste were mended by help of Frau Minne's might. (Mysteriously, going close to Isolde. ) 13 14 Tristan and Isolde. Thy mother's arts forgettest thou all ? Could it hap that she, so sharp of heed, without help in a strangers' land would send me beside thee to stand ? Isolde (gloomily). My mother's arts I keep in mind ; of handiwork her ways I hail : vengeance wreaked upon wrong, balm for the heart when bursting ! — The casket here let me have. BRANG/ENE. It holds thy safest help. (She fetches a small golden coffer, opens it, and points to its contents.) In row so ranged thy mother the mighty wonder-waters : for bite or wound the balsam-wash ; for baneful draught its backward bane ; — but here the master- drink I hold. Isolde. Forbear, I know it better ; outside it deep a sign I dug ; — but this there is none I shall need ! (She seizes one of the flasks and shows it to Brang^NE.) Brancene (recoiling in horror). The death-water ! No ! The Crew ' (outside). Hi ! Ha ! Ho ! Hi ! Tristan and Isolde. 15 Slack the foresheet ! Lighten sail ! Hi ! Ha ! Ho ! Hi ! Isolde (who has risen from the couch and listened with increasing horror to the sailors' cries). That means we have made good way. Woe to me ! Near is the land. (Kurwenal conies boisterously in through the parted curtains.) KURWENAL. Up, up ! Make ready ! Look around ! Call the women ! See to your mistress at once ! — ( With more moderation. ) To Frau Isolde let me say the word Sir Tristan sent me with :■ — from aloft the flag its flutter of laughter flings to the land ; in Cornwall's kingly dwelling news of her nearness dawns ; and Frau Isold' he soon must fetch, by him from deck to be handed, that safe she may so be landed. Isolde (recovering from the tremor that had seized her at the beginning of the message, with calmness and dignity). Sir Tristan greatly from me greet, and make him back my message : — 'tis not for him to shield me till up to King Mark' he yield me, ere first, by ways of followed wont, from me forgiveness he has gained for unoutblotted blame, — which let him come to claim. 1 6 Tristan and Isolde. (Kurwenal makes a gesture of defiance. Isolde continues more My message weigh and bear it well ! — By him 'tis not meet I be handed, that safe I may so be landed ; it is not for him to shield me till up to King Mark' he yield me ; ere first, by ways that wont has fixed, my grace and pardon he has got for still-abiding blame, which here await his claim. Kurwenal. Doubt me not, he all shall know ; from him back you will hear ! {He hastily retires. ) Isolde {goes swiftly to Brang^ne and passionately embraces her). Farewell, Brangsene ! Farewell to the world ! Farewell to both father and mother ! BRANG/ENE. What thought befalls thee ? Think'st thou to flee ? Thy feet to what goal shall I follow ? Isolde {quickly recovering herself). My mind thou hast heard ; I move not hence, for Tristan here I will tarry. — Unguileful heed give my behest ; the cup of peace and pardon fill ; — thou know'st the flask it will need. Tristan and Isolde. 17 Brang^ene. The drink is which ? Isolde (takes a flask out of the coffer). What means thy doubt ? — In the golden goblet let it go ; the whole will brim it home. Brang^NE ^taking the flask with horror). What are thy words ! Isolde. Fails me thy faith ? BRANGiENE. The drink — for whom ? Isolde. Him who was false. Brang^ne. Tristan ? Isolde. From me let him take it ! BrANGjENE (throwing herself at Isolde' 's feet). Have mercy ! Speak not so madly ! Isolde (impetuously). Have mercy thyself, unfaithful maid ! My mother's arts forget'st thou all ? Could it hap that she, so sharp of heed, without help in a strangers' land would send me beside thee to stand ? For bite or wound she gave me balsam ; 1 8 Tristan and Isolde. for baneful draught its backward bane ; for utmost ill, for worst of all — death-water was her gift. Now Death her praise uplift ! BRANGiENE {scarcely able to control herself). O utmost ill ! Isolde. Thy heed shall I have ? BRANGvENE. worst of all ! Isolde. Wilt thou be true ? Brang