University of Virginia Library

EPILOGUE

The Minster Church of Arundel
Tristan and Iseult are laid out side by side before the altar. Iseult is covered from sight under her golden sail.
Iseult of Arundel, in black weeds, stands beside the bier
King Mark, with Brangaena, Kurvenal and a train of Cornish Nobles, advances through the mourning people, past Duke Jovelin and Kahedin, straight to the corpses.
He stands for a long interval before Tristan, then turns to Iseult of Arundel
Mark.
Open your heart to me; and have no fear.
I make no claim on anything. My palace,
Strong on Tintagel's rock, fades twice a year
Before my sight: I have seen all things pass.

Iseult of Arundel.
Take her away!

Mark.
But they must lie together.
I dare not sever them in death, I dare not.
Here let them rest.
I bade Brangaena tell you,
As she has poured into my ears, the tale
How they drank wine together, wine her mother
Had steeped in wizard passion of her prayers:
The hands that bore the draught were hands of Fate:
These the appointed lips, these, these!—
(He looks long into Tristan's face; then turns again to Iseult of Arundel).
O child of Arundel,
There is one freedom that we kings must grant—
We must not intercept the arrow's flight;
We must not dam the river from the sea;
And when the eagle swoops above our flock
We must remember him the bird of Jove.

Iseult of Arundel.
Remove them from me; bear the dead away!

Mark
(leading her to Tristan).
See, the face softens!
[She struggles to speak.
Child, no more confession.
The face is softening—that is all our peace.
There shall be at Tintagel royal tombs,
Set but a little way apart. A rose,
Tristan, for thee—a rose to stretch itself
In briars and angry branches and great falls
Of blossom on the neighbour tomb. A vine . . .
Ah, so I dream the fairy monument;
I can no longer dream.
Brangaena, straight
Unveil your mistress!
[She unwraps Iseult of Ireland, and her beauty spreads like incense through the Minster. The people instinctively kneel and fall to prayer, burying their faces: but Mark remains standing, and as he looks at the two lovers, now resting side by side in transfigured beauty, the words escape his lips.
Pray for us!

[A long triumphant strain of music thrills the air; then a fanfare is heard; and the long, triumphant strain of music passes upward out of the church to be lost in the air of heaven.