J. Comyns Carr - Tristram and Iseult - Act III lyrics

ACT. III. THE LOVE DRAUGHT. SCENE:—On board the "Swallow." The front of the stage is occupied by the centre of the ship, where ISEULT'S cabin is situated. At the back is the raised forepart of the vessel, the tall mast rising from the upper deck. At the opening of the act the large sail is lowered, disclosing in the sky the glimmerings of a grey dawn, with a view of the sea after storm. The light grows gradually as the act progresses. During the chorus with which it opens the SAILORS are seen hoisting the sail, which has been lowered during the hurricane. GOUVERNAYLE is down stage. TRISTRAM, at the back, leans over the side of the ship, with eyes turned seaward. SAILORS' CHORUS. Above the mast one single star Still loiters in the dawn, Beyond the dusk one lamp afar Burns on an upland lawn. Then a little more! and a little way! Yeo ho! Hearts! Ho! Yeo ho! Ere the Swallow's bows shall round the bay, Yeo ho! Hearts! Ho! Yeo ho! Haul away! Across the scudding gale one cry Comes seaward o'er the foam! One voice that sobbing bade good-bye Now laughing calls us home! Then a little way! and a little more! Yeo ho! Hearts! Ho! Yeo ho! Ere the Swallow's keel shall touch the shore, Yeo ho! Hearts! Ho! Yeo ho! Haul away! Gouvernayle. [To the MASTER of the ship, who approaches him from the upper deck.] Is the storm spent? Master. Aye! 'tis rattled out at last! God be praised! Gouvernayle. Shall we not then hoist the sail once more and make the land? Master. They are about it, sir. Hear you not? These fellows have already the taste of Cornish sand in their mouths, who but an hour agone were like to have drunk too deep of the brine. Gouvernayle. In truth the night was rank. It seemed as though the heavens would split and fall into the sea. Master. We who have seen it shall not live to encounter its fellow. [Crying to the SAILORS.] Cheerly, my hearts, cheerly! [He comes down again to GOUVERNAYLE and speaks in lower voice.] 'Twas whispered amongst 'em that this Irish maid had set a spell upon the ship, and that we should find no port but the oozy bed of the sea. Gouvernayle. Would they so speak of her who shall be their Queen? Master. And yet a woman withal, Queen or no! Mark you that. And wondrous fair, as you'll say? Aye, but so are they that dwell in the hollow of the whirlpool and lure good sailors down by the sound of wet harp-strings. Hark'ee, there's one aboard who will have it he saw such a sea-maid last night rise out of the foam; and her face, so he swears it, was like unto this royal maid's. Gouvernayle. Out on him for a knave! And on you who would traffic in such crazy chatter. Master. I am not to blame. I saw her not. And as for your maids who dwell on shore, fair or foul, I fear not one. For them, your sailor was ever your true, fit mate. He loves 'em and he leaves 'em. That's the royal way of love as we sailors count it; and marvel only that kings should choose otherwise. And yet there be some of 'em so cunningly fashioned that not all the sea spilt on the round orb shall serve to keep honest men from the harm of 'em. Gouvernayle. To your work, good Master. To your work and leave this idle babble. Dost hear me? Master. Aye, aye, sir! [Turning again to the SAILORS as he goes up stage. Yare! Yare, my hearts! Steadily! So! [TRISTRAM comes down and meets him as he goes up. Tristram. Is your helm set for the land? Master. Truly, my Lord, and we shall make it speedily. The wind sits in the quarter. Cheerly, my hearts! Cheerly! [Goes up and out of sight. Tristram. [Pointing back to group of SAILORS as he approaches GOUVERNAYLE.] Did'st hear these fellows? They are all a-hunger for the land again who, while they were on shore, would sing of nought but the sea. Gouvernayle. So was it ever, my Lord. 'Tis not what is, but what is to come that gives savour to life. Tristram. For them it may be, but 'tis not so here. What's lost is all that's left. Neither what is nor what may be can bring aught to me. Gouvernayle. Nay, nay, my Lord, thy master's love awaits thy coming. Tristram. Yet that, too, were nigh being lost. Aye, that remains. I have kept mine oath; and these eyes that were like to have been lowered in shame may now greet my Lord the King once more in fearless wise. Gouvernayle. How think you she will greet him? Tristram. Most royally, as doth become the daughter of a King. Gouvernayle. Yet since that hour thy hand struck Palamide to the earth she hath never uttered word. Tristram. 'Twas that same hour first taught her what I am. For her these hands are red with Moraunt's blood; Small wonder then she is dumb. Yet those veiled eyes That fall when I pa** by as though they shunned Some sight that soils them, soon shall lift their light To greet this new-worn glory. Gouvernayle. So they should. Yet oft-time I have feared her dumb lips guard Some darker purpose! Tristram. Wherefore think you so? Gouvernayle. Last night when all was blackest here she stood With fearless eyes fixed on the raging sea, And when the gale ran shrieking through the shrouds, And all had thought the ship must part in sunder So wildly blew the winds, 'twas then I saw A smile upon her face as though she owned Some kinship with the storm. Tristram. Was Brangwaine there? Gouvernayle. Close by her side; fast holding to her breast That carven cup which Oren, Ireland's Queen, Hath sent as bridal offering to King Mark. Tristram. May be she dreamed of him! Gouvernayle. Aye, but what dream? Tristram. Or haply smiled to think though d**h should come 'Twould come for all, and first of all for him Whose hated image blackens out the past. Enter BRANGWAINE, bearing in her hand a carven cup. What would you, Lady? Brangwaine. Good my Lord, my mistress Did bid me ask of thee what course we make And if the end be near? Tristram. Aye, very near! Gouvernayle. See what new-sweetened breezes fan our sail, Within the hour we shall be safe in port! Brangwaine. I thank thee, Sir! Tristram. Is she so eager, then, To greet her new-found Lord? Brangwaine. My Lord, I know not; I have but done her bidding. Tristram. So shall we all! For is she not our Queen? Go, tell her then The trouble of the toiling sea is over, The land draws near at last. [He goes up to the fore-part of the ship, leaving BRANGWAINE and GOUVERNAYLE. Brangwaine. So Heaven be praised! That hath saved us from this peril. Once I feared Last night might prove our last; and the white seas Would swallow ship and all! Gouvernayle. Nay, fear no more, Neither for her nor for that royal gift Those hands hold fast. Is it so finely wrought, This wedding cup, thou bearest to our King? Nay, but I'll warrant you our Cornish craft Can match its carven wonders! Brangwaine. Haply so! Then count the cup for nought! Yet count it all; For, sealed within it, lurks a precious draught Sweeter than sweetest wine, and were that lost Then all perchance were lost, and nought but shame Should wait on those we serve! [She sets down the cup. Gouvernayle. What shame can touch My Lord, Sir Tristram? Who with stainless brow And faith unshaken, bears across the seas This royal bride? Brangwaine. None, Sir, if but that bride Cleave closely to her Lord. Gouvernayle. What? Think you then Her heart might turn again towards him whose sword Proclaimed him what he was? That peril's past: Sir Moraunt's blood hath set a crimson cord 'Twixt her and him that bars the way of love, And shall for ever bar it, God be praised! When first Iseult beheld that splintered steel My heart leapt up within me, for I knew Whatever softer thoughts once filled her breast That sword had slain! And only hate dwelt there. Brangwaine. Haply thou art right, yet in a maiden's heart It sometimes chances, though she knows it not, That love and hate lie closely side by side. So we are fashioned. Gouvernayle. Aye, and so would wreck The souls of men who dream, because ye are weak, That they, forsooth, are strong. Is there no cure For this accursed thing the world calls love? Brangwaine. Aye, Sir, the cure lies there! There in that cup! 'Tis love must conquer love, nought else beside Can break its fetters. So Queen Oren deemed— Whose cunning hands distilled that magic wine Wherein Iseult and Mark shall pledge their troth. For when they have drunk of it, from that day forth Those twain shall cleave together heart to heart And soul to soul, till at the last d**h comes To end what else were endless. Say you then— Have I done well to guard this carven cup? Gouvernayle. Yea, truly, all the wine of all the South Were not so precious! Knows thy lady this? Brangwaine. Nay, by mine oath I am pledged to hold it from her Till all be sure! She doth but know she is sworn To do her mother's bidding. Look, she comes! Enter ISEULT. Iseult. What saith the Lord of the ship? May we not know What course we make? Brangwaine. Sweet mistress, all is well. Our journey nears its end! Gouvernayle. Nay! Rather say 'Tis ended now; the wind sets towards the land And we are home! Iseult. Why then I pray you, Sir, Bear him our thanks. [GOUVERNAYLE goes forward to the fore-part of the vessel. Brangwaine. See, where on either side The shore puts forth an arm to hold us safe From the waves' onslaught! Iseult. Nay, I love the waves. The shore is all I dread. Had I my will I would the sea were landless, that our ship Might sail from dawn to dark, from dark to dawn, And find no port! Brangwaine. Last night indeed I feared That fate might well be ours! Iseult. Was it so? Stood d**h so near? Brangwaine. Sweet lady, very near. But now the night is past. Iseult. Ah, call it back! For I would see once more that fairer face That greets me as mine own. 'Twas there last night, There, while the storm ran riot through the skies. With fearless feet, across the foaming floor, She drew towards me, till those snow white hands Were raised above my head. 'Twas then I cried "Stretch forth an arm and touch me." "Nay, not yet—" So came her answer back—"Not yet, not yet! I heal all wounds and thou all wounds save one. Thou dost not need me yet." And as she spake A sudden silence fell upon the sea, The conquered waves went sobbing back to sleep And, with the dying whisper of the gale, She pa**ed into the night, till nought was there But those white hands uplifted in the dark, Like two twin sails that winged their way to Heaven. Would I had found that way! Brangwaine. Ah, speak not so! Those phantom spectre shapes that pace the night, Can harm thee now no more, the clouds are past! The storm is spent, and see! a new day dawns. Iseult. Aye, all too soon! Brangwaine. Too soon? Hast thou forgot What glory waits thee there? Iseult. Nay, Brangwaine, nay! I do remember all. Brangwaine. Then lift thine eyes That, in a little space, shall there behold That royal Lord who waits to crown thee Queen. Art thou not named the fairest of the earth? Then let him find thee so! Iseult. And so he shall. Bring me my robe. [BRANGWAINE takes the royal robe that is set ready and puts it upon the shoulders of ISEULT. Fair raiment makes all fair— Yet in thine eyes I see there's something lacking! Brangwaine. Dear lady, no! Iseult. Aye, but I know there is! Within our woods once grew a milk-white flower That bore a poisoned berry! Were it here I'd bind it round my brows: its beauty then Would fitly sort with mine. But this shall serve! [She takes the diadem which BRANGWAINE holds out to her and sets it on her brows. What say you? Am I fit to mate with him Who rules in Cornwall? Brangwaine. Never king on earth Yet won so fair a bride! Iseult. But we forget! There's one thing more. Where is Queen Oren's gift To him who waits to crown me? Brangwaine. [Pointing to cup.] It stands there. Iseult. Then set it ready and those goblets too. He may not halt nor tarry who, to day, Would pledge his troth with mine! [BRANGWAINE takes the goblets and places them on either side of the carven cup. Without turning ISEULT calls to her. Come hither, Brangwaine! [With eyes fixed upon her face, BRANGWAINE approaches her, half in terror. What is it lurks within that carven cup? Brangwaine. Sweet wine, dear mistress! Iseult. Aye, and in the wine? Brangwaine. Ask me not that! Did the Queen tell thee naught? Iseult. Naught as she deemed! Yet this hath told me all! [She goes up and takes the cup, reading the words that are graven around its rim. "Those twain who drink of this sweet wine shall dream An endless dream that knows no waking here." "And in that hour," she said, "if thou should'st pause Think on thy brother Moraunt, and drink deep!" [She puts down the cup. And so I shall, though well I know what dream There waits us both! The Queen is pitiless. But for my father's oath she would have slain This knight, Sir Tristram. Yet though he must live Her vengeance sleeps not; but with poisoned aim Now strikes the King, his master! [Pointing to the cup. d**h lies there! And I who deemed these hands were made to heal Now stand d**h's minister! Brangwaine. Ah, think not so! Iseult. Yea, but I am, and Oren judged aright. It was King Mark struck Moraunt to the earth! Tristram but held the blade; the blow that fell Came from his master's hand. Is it not so? Brangwaine. Iseult, I may not answer Yea or Nay, For so my lips are sealed! Thy mother's word Must stand for all. Yet haply that same dream Shall have a sweeter ending. Iseult. There is none That can be half so sweet. For, once these hands Have done her bidding, life is naught to me, Who am borne across the seas, a captive bride, To this proud Lord I know not. d**h alone Can heal that wound I bear! Brangwaine. Iseult! Iseult! Drink deep and have no fear. Iseult. How should they fear That have no hope? Go call Sir Tristram hither. Brangwaine. Sir Tristram! Iseult. Aye, Sir Tristram, so he is named. Did'st thou not say we neared our journey's end? 'Tis fitting then we pay our fee in thanks To him who hath borne us here! [BRANGWAINE, who has gone up, now returns Why dost thou pause? Brangwaine. Look well his lips touch not that magic wine. It was not brewed for him. Iseult. Now that one word Had I known naught beside, would tell me all. Nay, d**h is not for him. Go, call him here. [BRANGWAINE goes up to the fore-part of the vessel, and as she does so ISEULT goes to the bench where stands the cup and pours the wine it contains into the two goblets. While she is doing this the voices of the SAILORS singing are heard again from the fore-part of the ship. Sailors' Chorus. What calls us home, Home from the sea? Sailors are we, Sailors and free Sea-ward to roam,— What calls us home? Grey eyes and blue, Red lips and true, Old loves and new!— Straight o'er the foam, Love calls us home, Home from the sea. Iseult. Love calls ye home! Nay, Sirs, 'tis hate, not love That steers your good ship now! [TRISTRAM comes down. Ah, thou art here? Tristram. Did'st thou not send for me? Iseult. [With a touch of scorn in her tone.] Most like I did! I am thy Queen and may command thee, Sir. Tristram. In all things, to the end. Iseult. That end draws near. So Brangwaine told me. Tristram. Brangwaine told thee well. Straight on our course Tintagel's mitred towers Already carve the saffron fields of dawn. The wind and storm have made the journey weary; But all is over now. Iseult. Not yet, my Lord. 'Tis thou dost rule this ship? Is it not so? Tristram. Yea, truly! Iseult. So I thought, and all obey thee. Then bid these sea-worn mariners who sing Of love and home, go put the helm about, And flee the land! Tristram. I fear that may not be! Iseult. Why not, when I command thee? Tristram. There is one That doth command us both. Iseult. Thy Lord, the King? Is that what stays thee? Not in all the world Was ever master yet so humbly served! Thou needs must love him well! Tristram. As thou shalt too When he hath crowned thee Queen! Iseult. Then tell me, Sir, Was it thy love for Mark that bade thee bring This shame upon our land? Tristram. What shame? Iseult. What shame? So then thou hast forgot that Moraunt died. Tristram. I would I could forget. Iseult. Thou can'st not! No, Nor we who are his kin, and saw him die! Think then it was forgotten in that hour, When 'neath thy stronger arm, Sir Palamide Fell stricken to the earth? Tristram. I think not so! Iseult. Nay, but King Gormon's oath still left thee free, Who else had paid d**h's forfeit! Aye, 'twas so! And then, when fearing naught, thy lips dared ask, What he might not refuse—think you that Time Had laid to sleep the bitter memory Of Moraunt's d**h? Tristram. Indeed, I think not so. For well I know that bitter memory Still lives today, and shall outlast all time. Iseult. And, yet for all, thou still would'st serve thy King? Tristram. As needs I must! 'Tis all that's left to me. Iseult. Then, of thy love for him that is so great, Go put the helm about and flee the land! Tristram. I cannot! Iseult. Cannot? Harken then to me: That oath of vengeance sworn so long ago, Were I not all too weak, had long ago Been satisfied. Thy valour saved thee then! Thy valour and King Gormon's plighted word. Yet know, though thou art free, that oath endures, And the sword's point that found the servant armed May haply strike his master. Tristram. What means this? Iseult. Dost see that cup? It is my mother's gift To Mark the King. And that sweet wine it holds My Lord and I shall drink in joyous pledge Of our betrothal. Tristram. Nay, I know it well. Iseult. Yet know'st not all. Read what is writ thereon! Tristram. [Holding the cup in his hand.] "Those twain who drink of this sweet wine shall dream An endless dream that knows no waking here." Iseult. Can'st thou not guess that dream? I'll tell thee then; 'Tis d**h! Tristram. What sayest thou, d**h? Iseult. Aye, in that wine Lies life's one secret none can ever know Till d**h unbars the door, and d**h waits there! 'Tis naught to me, for life is naught to me! And haply naught to thee whose life is safe! Yet thou dost love thy King. Tristram. And dost thou think That I would shield myself and slay my Lord? Iseult. Then put the helm about and flee the land. Tristram. There is a better way. Iseult. What way? Tristram. Ah, why When I lay stricken on the verge of d**h, Why did'st thou heal that wound which but for thee Had wrought thy vengeance then? Iseult. I know not! Tristram. Why, Why did'st thou stay thy mother's vengeful hand, More merciful than thine, that would have slain me? Iseult. I know not! Nay, I know not! Tristram. Then I'll tell thee. Thy deeper love for Moraunt, who had died, Dreamed of a deeper shame for him whose sword Had struck him down. Yea, well thou know'st 'tis so! Set in thy heart there dwelt this fiercer hate; "'Tis not enough that this poor knight should die! Nay, he shall live, and bear upon his brow The brand of coward, traitor, and what else Shall link his name with endless infamy! " So had'st thou dreamed; but so it shall not be! For here I bare my breast and take that blow Was meant for him I serve! Strike hard and deep! Thou hast no pity left—those healing hands Should own their sterner office. Iseult. Nay, I cannot! Tristram. Doth hate so move thee still? Why, see you then I am no traitor! This shall make amends. For here in full atonement for what's gone I drink that poisoned cup was meant for him. My Lord. [He goes up stage and seizes one of the goblets. She makes a movement to stop him, but as she does so he drains it down. Iseult. Ah, no! Tristram. Tis done! Iseult, farewell! [He comes down stage with eyes gazing outward as one waiting the call of d**h. As he stands there she moves softly up stage and drains the other cup. Iseult. "Whom thou hast healed, him shalt thou wound again." So this then is the end! Tristram, farewell! Tristram. What hast thou done? Iseult. As thou hast! Fare thee well. [They stand apart and in silence as the voices of the SAILORS are heard at the back softly singing. During the chorus the faces of TRISTRAM and ISEULT reveal the soft beginning of the mystic spell that is working within them, and as they stand, their faces gradually transfigured, the light increases till the scene is flooded with a golden dawn. SAILORS' chorus. New breezes spring Across the foam, The Swallow's wing Is spread for home! Day shines afar And night is past, The harbour bar Is won at last! Tristram. They sing of day! Iseult. Yet 'tis the night that comes! Tristram. Yea, truly, so it is. Then hasten, night, Unbar this golden prison men call day! Iseult. Nay, look again, it hath the grace of dawn; The stars are flushed with crimson, and the sky Holds some new light I know not. Tristram. Through the dusk, The way shines clearly that shall lead us on. And who are they that wander hand in hand Within that shadowy wood? They come in troops, With cheeks still wet with weeping! Who are they? Iseult. I see them not! Thou hast gone on before Where I must follow thee. Ah, now I see! They also trod the way that waits for us! Wilt thou too take this hand? All's over now, It cannot harm thee more! [She holds out her hand, he takes it in his. Tristram. It healed me once. Iseult. And wounded thee again. Aye, past all cure! Tristram. The cure is here at last. Look where the sea Breaks into flower and all the whitened foam Is strewn with blossom! Spring is here again! Iseult. Can this be d**h's rough road? Tristram. An' if it be, Then d**h and Life are one, and d**h and Love! For, look you, Love stands there; with rose-crowned brows, He pa**es 'midst those shadowy forms, whose eyes Are lifted up to greet him as he goes! Iseult. Oh d**h, come quickly; end what needs must end! Tristram. "Those twain who drink of this sweet wine shall dream—" Iseult. "An endless dream that knows no waking here." [She leans towards him, her head sinking on his breast as the chorus is repeated softly. Day shines afar, The night is past, The harbour bar Is won at last. Tristram. Aye, won at last! Iseult. At last! It was no dream! Tristram. Iseult, I love thee! Iseult. As I love thee too, And shall for ever love thee! Tristram. From this hour We twain shall cleave together heart to heart. Iseult. Aye, soul to soul, till d**h indeed shall come And sweetly end us both! Enter BRANGWAINE who sees the empty goblets, and comes in terror to ISEULT's side. Brangwaine. What hast thou done? Iseult. Nay, ask what have we won? Brangwaine. Ah, woe is me! That ever I was born into the world! Sorrow and shame await thee. Iseult. Love is here! [GOUVERNAYLE comes rapidly to TRISTRAM'S side. Gouvernayle. My Lord, we are safe in port. Tristram. Aye, safe in port! Gouvernayle. The King is here to greet thee. Tristram. 'Tis the King! Brangwaine.[To ISEULT.] It is thy Lord. Dost hear me? Iseult. Aye, my Lord! [TRISTRAM and ISEULT stand apart as though in a trance, meanwhile the sail has been lowered and discloses the raised prow of the ship thronged with SAILORS and with KNIGHTS and DAMES. The song of the SAILORS breaks out joyously. What draws us home, Home from the sea? Grey eyes and blue, Red lips and true, Old loves and new; Straight o'er the foam Love draws us home Home from the sea. [Through the song come shouts and cries from the crowd at the back, which makes way at the approach of MARK, who steps on to the ship from the quay, "The King!" "The King!" "The King is here!" [TRISTRAM and ISEULT still stand motionless as MARK comes between them. Mark. Welcome, Sir Knight, and thou my peerless Queen. CURTAIN.