TRISTAN, that unconquered knight, Weak and wounded, day and night Oft complains, and craves and sighs For Yseult to glad his eyes; Beats his breast, and tears doth shed, Is, for longing, nearly dead. In his soul's tormenting strife Came Isolt, his wedded wife, Cruel plot her mind within. 'Here (she says) is Kaerdin: Rides his ship upon the wave; To discern it, trouble gave, But at last I marked it well, His the bark, I truly tell. God now grant he may impart Consolation to your heart.' Thrill of joy through Tristan ran. 'Fair Isolt,' he then began, 'Are you sure his ship to see? Tell me what the fiag may be.' 'Sure I am,' she answered back, 'Know the flag is all of black; On the topmost mast 'tis placed, Doubtless 'cause the wind has ceased.' Tristan felt so fierce a pain As ne'er erst--nor shall again. To the wall then turned he, Cried, 'God save Yseult and me! Since you come not to me, I For your love must surely die; Die for you, my sweetheart fair, You not pitied my despair. But my death will cause you grief, This my love is great relief. Yseult! Love!' three times he said: At the fourth his spirit fled. In the house then all deplore; Knights and comrades weeping sore, Loud the cries, and great the woe; Knights and squires together go, From the bed the body raise, Then on cloth of gold. replace, Spread a coloured mantle o'er. Now the wind blows toward the shore, 'Gan the canvas to expand And the vessel came to land. Yseult from the vessel stept, Saw that all the people wept, Toll the bells from church and spires, What the reason she inquires: Why they ring from every steep, Who it is for whom they weep. Came an Elder then and said: 'Lovely Dame, be God my aid. We a heavy loss deplore, Ne'er had any people more. Dead is Tristan, brave and great; Gone, the guardian of the State, Bountiful to all in need, Ever to the sad gave heed. Of a wound that inward bled Late he died upon his bed. Greater grief and trouble yet Has the country never met.' Yseult, when the news she heard, Stunned with grief, ne'er spoke a word; By his death her heart is torn. Through the street, distraught, forlorn, To the palace hasted she. Never did the Bretons see Dame so beautiful before: Much they wondered from what shore, Whence she comes, and who can be. Yseult hastes the corpse to see, To the east she turned, and there Pours her heart for him in prayer. 'Tristan, Love, since you are dead, I no longer live,' she said. ' 'Tis for love of me you die; For regret and anguish I, Since to save you was denied.' Then she laid her by his side, Stretched her out, and kissed the dead, And at once her spirit fled. |