In these dark joys and exquisite despairs,
O Love, let Death lay finger unawares!
Landgrave.
Passion and music—but no Principle!
How different is Tannhäuser!
(To the unknown minstrel) You, sir, next!
Sing of pure love and noble womanhood.
Our court loves not these wastrel troubadours,
Loose locks, Hushed faces, soul’s unseemliness.
The Unknown Minstrel (sings).