University of Virginia Library

Scene II

Arundel: a corridor of the Castle; through the columns the great Hall is seen lit and full of guests, breaking from a dance. Couples pass out of the Hall down the corridor. It is near midnight.
Duke Jovelin is talking to an old friend and guest under a column
Jovelin.

Sir, I have a son, a son that is no longer
his own master. Kahedin has chosen him a lord;
my daughter has chosen her a lord: they have
chosen the same lord. But what matter! This
Sir Tristan is an enchanter.

The Guest.

That is what I fear—if there should be
infatuation, and our land ruined.

Jovelin.

Tut, tut! The land is not ruined that is
infatuated, the land is not in ruin that welcomes
happiness. We are a small people: a very great
warrior is come among us. There is no such
Roman Knight alive; he carries the banner of
the Empire to its triumph—he is come to rule,
and he shall rule us all. I am devoted to him as
his faithful servant, Kurvenal.

The Guest.

My lord, would you have us transfer
our allegiance to Sir Tristan?

Jovelin.
Ay, now that Sir Tristan is my son.
It is a happy marriage, a blest marriage—the
Smile of Heaven is upon it. Look there—
[He points through the moonlit corridor.
Look where our beeches slope across the land,
How pleasantly . . . Sir Tristan has established
Our Dukedom in such settlement, the bird
Broods o'er her nest, her patience unannulled;
The seasons have their flow and reckless summer
Dare gambol for a while. A happy marriage!
[He turns from the moonlight to the lamplit guest-room.

Now we shall all breathe free, and my old age
drop down in dreams to God.

[Tristan and Iseult of Arundel cross the Hall, hand in hand.

My dove is a rare dove . . . I drew them
together; the harp did much, but her father
more: I drew them together with the warm
guile of age.

[Kahedin and a lady pass out: they are followed by other couples seeking the fresh night. The old Guest is greeted and joins the procession.

So—they pass!

[A band of youths enters from the other end of the corridor.

But we must still give welcome; we must stand
at the portal and give welcome to the young.

Our welcome, welcome!

[The wedding-guests, saluting him, pass into the Hall. Tristan and Iseult of Arundel come out together.
O comfortable Vision!

[He passes them with a smile and a gesture of blessing, then goes within.
Tristan.
My little princess of the darting eyes,
So tender,
And small and dark, thine eyes are mine far closer
Than any jewel that I wear—their tears,
And their wet shining when I play the harp.

Iseult of Arundel.
Tristan, your harp—it is the dearest thing
To me in all the world.

Tristan.
You love my harp?

Iseult of Arundel.
It is my glory . . . Burthen of Iseult!
I have no music—
But I have wooed you to the brink of death
With sighs, with open, long-drawn sighs, with service
Too eager for the bidding of your thoughts.
I need no longer strive. En vous ma vie.

Tristan
(caressing her).
Mad, little echo, but you must not take
Such wild reverberation from the hills,
Of life or death: the bleating flocks, the call
And invocations of the shepherd-folk
Alone should stir these lips.

Iseult of Arundel.
‘O Love, Iseult’
I echo what you breathe me, you sweet Angel!

Tristan.
Beloved,
How sweet thou art!

Iseult of Arundel.
I love thee.

Tristan.
Ah, I wonder!
It is a wish I found among my thoughts.

Iseult of Arundel.
I loved thee all the while.

Tristan.
There is no hatred
In thy soft face, nor any pride with hate.
Thou must not change, Iseult.

Iseult of Arundel.
Tristan, ‘Iseult’
Is music on thy lips and to my ears
Excelling music. Perilous, sweet eyes . . .
How I have watched them in their wanderings
More than thou ever canst have knowledge of.
Look down, look down upon me.

Tristan.
Ah, most sweet.
Soon they will come to lead thee to thy bridal,
To pluck thee from me—and then give thee back
My own for ever.

[As he withdraws his arm, caressing her, a ring drops from his finger on the floor.
Iseult of Arundel.
Tristan, give it me!
I covet it; thou hast no other gem.
Tristan, a bridal gift.
Not on thy hand;
There it displeases me.

Tristan.
O Gentleness,
But thou art mine, and all my will to rule—
[Struggling to speak.
. . . Sweet wife,
If I may trust thee—
I must wear this ring
Through the ages, in my tomb.

Iseult.
Is it a vow?

Tristan
(staring at it, as he slowly turns it round his finger).
I had forgotten it . . . Now like a ghost
It haunts me with remembrance of a vow.
[The Matrons are seen gathering in the midst of the Hall, and receiving each a torch.
Thy Women
Come for thee . . .
[Kneeling to her.
Fairest, but the vow forbids
Our marriage-rites until a year be passed.
I give this secret to thee as the jewel
Of my own soul: I have no other gift.
[Iseult of Arundel swoons. Tristan supports her, and then lays her in the arms of the women, who have advanced with their torches.
Bear her away. Oh, comfort her!
[She is carried out by the Matrons.
Beside him,
She sits beside him; we are coupled now,
Chained, coupled each of us! I have been free,
Free to forget her, free! Iseult, Iseult!
Would I were in the tomb.

Kahedin
(returning).
A longing bridegroom.
Come, cheer! The revels fail.

Tristan.
I am struck to death.

Jovelin
(approaching).
They say the bride has swooned—
Nay, nay—her father
Is not too anxious.
I have set a measure
To check the laugh.

Tristan.
A measure—I will lead.

[Exeunt into the Hall, as the minstrels strike up the measure of a dance.