(Whilst KURVENAL, still hesitating, opposes TRISTAN, the Shepherd’s pipe is heard without, playing a joyous strain.)

KURVENAL (springing joyously up). 
O rapture!  Transport!

(He rushes to the watch-tower and looks out.)

Ha! the ship! 
From northward it is nearing.

TRISTAN.  So I knew,
so I said! 
Yes, she yet lives,
and life to me gives. 
How could Isold’
from this world be free,
which only holds
Isolda for me?

KURVENAL (shouting).  Ahoy!  Ahoy! 
See her bravely tacking! 
How full the canvas is filled! 
How she darts! how she flies!

TRISTAN.  The pennon? the pennon?

KURVENAL.  A flag is floating at mast-head,
joyous and bright.

TRISTAN.  Aha! what joy! 
Now through the daylight
comes my Isolda. 
Isolda, oh come! 
See’st thou herself?

KURVENAL.  The ship is shut
from me by rocks.

TRISTAN.  Behind the reef? 
Is there not risk! 
Those dangerous breakers
ships have oft shattered.—­
Who steereth the helm?

KURVENAL.  The steadiest seaman.

TRISTAN.  Betrays he me? 
Is he Melot’s ally?

KURVENAL.  Trust him like me.

TRISTAN.  A traitor thou, too!—­
O caitiff! 
Canst thou not see her?

KURVENAL.  Not yet.

TRISTAN.  Destruction!

KURVENAL.  Aha!  Halla-halloa I
they clear! they clear! 
Safely they clear! 
Inside the surf
steers now the ship to the strand.

TRISTAN (shouting in joy).  Hallo-ho!  Kurvenal! 
Trustiest friend! 
All the wealth I own
to-day I bequeath thee.

KURVENAL.  With speed they approach.

TRISTAN.  Now dost thou see her? 
See’st thou Isolda?

KURVENAL.  ’Tis she! she waves!

TRISTAN.  O woman divine!

KURVENAL.  The ship is a-land! 
Isolda.’—­ha!—­
With but one leap
lightly she springs to land!

TRISTAN.  Descend from the watch-tow’r,
indolent gazer! 
Away! away
to the shore! 
Help her! help my belov’d!

KURVENAL.  In a trice she shall come;
Trust in my strong arm! 
But thou, Tristan,
hold thee tranquilly here!

(He hastens off.)

TRISTAN (tossing on his couch in feverish excitement). 
O sunlight glowing,
glorious ray! 
Ah, joy-bestowing
radiant day! 
Boundeth my blood,
boisterous flood! 
Infinite gladness! 
Rapturous madness! 
Can I bear to lie
couched here in quiet? 
Away, let me fly
to where hearts run riot! 
Tristan the brave,
exulting in strength,
has torn himself
from death at length.

(He raises himself erect.)

All wounded and bleeding
Sir Morold I defeated;
all bleeding and wounded
Isolda now shall be greeted.