Tristan and Isolda - LightNovelsOnl.com
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(_He sets on_ MELOT.)
Guard thee, Melot!
[_As_ 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_.]
ACT III.
_A Castle-Garden_.
[_At one side high castellated buildings, on the other a low breastwork interrupted by a watch tower; at back the castle-gate. The situation is supposed to be on rocky cliffs; through openings the view extends over a wide sea horizon. The whole gives an impression of being deserted by the owner, badly kept, and here and there dilapidated and overgrown_.]
SCENE I.
[_In the foreground, in the garden, lies_ TRISTAN _sleeping on a couch under the shade of a great lime-tree, stretched out as if lifeless. At his head sits_ KURVENAL, _bending over him in grief and anxiously listening to his breathing. From without comes the mournful sound of a shepherd's pipe_.
_Presently the shepherd comes and looks in with interest, showing the upper half of his body over the wall_.]
SHEPHERD. Kurvenal, ho!-- Say, Kurvenal,-- tell me, friend!
Does he still sleep?
KURVENAL (_turning a little towards him and shaking his head sadly_). If he awoke it would be but for evermore to leave us, unless we find the lady-leech; alone can she give help.-- See'st thou nought?
No s.h.i.+p yet on the sea?
SHEPHERD. Quite another ditty then would I play as merry as ever I may.
But tell me truly, trusty friend, why languishes our lord?
KURVENAL. Do not ask me;-- for I can give no answer.
Watch the sea, if sails come in sight a sprightly melody play.
SHEPHERD (_turns round and scans the horizon, shading his eyes with his hand_).
Blank appears the sea!
(_He puts the reed pipe to his mouth and withdraws, playing_.)
TRISTAN (_motionless--faintly_).
The tune so well known-- why wake to that?
(_opens his eyes and slightly turns his head_).
Where am I?
KURVENAL (_starting in joyous surprise_).
Ha!--who is speaking?
It is his voice!-- Tristan! lov'd one!
My lord! my Tristan!
TRISTAN (_with effort_). Who--calls me?
KURVENAL. Life--at last-- O thanks be to heaven!-- sweetest life unto my Tristan newly given!
TRISTAN (_faintly_). Kurvenal!--thou?
Where--was I?-- Where--am I?
KURVENAL. Where art thou?
In safety, tranquil and sure!
Kareol 'tis; dost thou not know thy fathers' halls?
TRISTAN. This my fathers'?
KURVENAL. Look but around.
TRISTAN. What awoke me?
KURVENAL. The herdsman's ditty hast thou heard, doubtless; he heedeth thy herds above on the hills there.
TRISTAN. Have I herds, then?
KURVENAL. Sir, I say it!
Thine are court, castle--all.
To thee yet true, thy trusty folk, as best they might, have held thy home in guard: the gift which once thy goodness gave to thy serfs and va.s.sals here, when going far away, in foreign lands to dwell.
TRISTAN. What foreign land?
KURVENAL. Why! in Cornwall; where cool and able, all that was brilliant, brave and n.o.ble, Tristan, my lord, lightly took.
TRISTAN. Am I in Cornwall?
KURVENAL. No, no; in Kareol.
TRISTAN. How came I here?
KURVENAL. Hey now! how you came?
No horse hither you rode: a vessel bore you across.
But on my shoulders down to the s.h.i.+p you had to ride: they are broad, they carried you to the sh.o.r.e.
Now you are at home once more; your own the land, your native land; all loved things now are near you, unchanged the sun doth cheer you.
The wounds from which you languish here all shall end their anguish.
(_He presses himself to_ TRISTAN'S _breast_.)
TRISTAN. Think'st thou thus!
I know 'tis not so, but this I cannot tell thee.
Where I awoke ne'er I was, but where I wandered I can indeed not tell thee.
The sun I could not see, nor country fair, nor people; but what I saw I can indeed not tell thee.
It was-- the land from which I once came and whither I return: the endless realm of earthly night.
