comfort giveth,--
if on the earth still she liveth.

TRISTAN (_very feebly_). Yet burns the beacon's spark:
yet is the house not dark,
Isolda lives and wakes:
her voice through darkness breaks.

KURVENAL. Lives she still,
then let new hope delight thee.
If foolish and dull you hold me,
this day you must not scold me.
As dead lay'st thou
since the day
when that accursed Melot
so foully wounded thee.
Thy wound was heavy:
how to heal it?
Thy simple servant
there bethought
that she who once
closed Morold's wound
with ease the hurt could heal thee
that Melot's sword did deal thee.
I found the best
of leeches there,
to Cornwall have I
sent for her:
a trusty serf
sails o'er the sea,
bringing Isold' to thee.

TRISTAN (_transported_). Isolda comes!
Isolda nears! (_He struggles for words_.)
O friendship! high
and holy friendship!

(_Draws_ KURVENAL _to him and embraces him_.)

O Kurvenal,
thou trusty heart,
my truest friend I rank thee!
Howe'er can Tristan thank thee?
My shelter and shield
in fight and strife;
in weal or woe
thou'rt mine for life.
Those whom I hate
thou hatest too;
those whom I love
thou lovest too.
When good King Mark
I followed of old,
thou wert to him truer than gold.
When I was false
to my noble friend,
to betray too thou didst descend.
Thou art selfless,
solely mine;
thou feel'st for me
when I suffer.
But--what I suffer,
thou canst not feel for me!
this terrible yearning in my heart,
this feverish burning's
cruel smart,--
did I but show it,
couldst thou but know it,
no time here wouldst thou tarry,
to watch from tow'r thou wouldst hurry;
with all devotion
viewing the ocean,
with eyes impatiently spying,
there, where her ship's sails are flying.
Before the wind she
drives to find me;
on the wings of love she neareth,--
Isolda hither steereth!--
she nears, she nears,
so boldly and fast!
It waves, it waves,
the flag from the mast!
Hurra! Hurra!
she reaches the bar!
Dost thou not see?
Kurvenal, dost thou not see?

(_As_ KURNEVAL _hesitates to leave_ TRISTAN, _who is
gazing at him in mute expectation, the mournful tune of the shepherd
is heard, as before_.)

KURVENAL (_dejectedly_). Still is no ship in sight.

TRISTAN (_has listened with waning excitement and now
recommences with growing melancholy_).
Is this the meaning then,
thou old pathetic ditty,
of all thy sighing sound?--
On evening's breeze
it sadly rang
when, as a child,
my father's death-n