The terrified Brangäne tries to calm her, and at the same time to learn what is the cause of her anger. She recalls Isolde's strange and cold behaviour on parting from her parents in Ireland, and on the voyage; why is she thus? A peculiar imploring tenderness is imparted to her appeal at the end by the falling sevenths, an interval which we have already met with in the Prelude and which is characteristic of this act.
Her efforts are vain; Isolde starts up hastily crying "Air! air! throw open the curtains!"
SCENE II.--The curtain thrown back discloses the deck of the ship with the crew grouped around Tristan, who is steering,[[37]] his man Kurwenal reclining near him. The refrain of the sailors' song is again heard. Isolde's eyes are fixed upon Tristan as she begins to the strain of the love-motive accompanied by muted strings:
Chosen for me!--lost to me!
. . . . .
Death-devoted head! Death-devoted heart!
enunciating with these words the death-motive (No. 2).
[37.] A curious mistake in the stage-management may be noticed. The scene is obviously laid in the forecastle; one glance at the stage is enough to show this, and the sails are set that way. Nor can it be altered, for it would never do to have them looking among the audience for the land ahead. So that Tristan's ship has her rudder in the bow! Rarely is Wagner at fault in trifles of this kind; in all other respects the deck-scene is admirably truthful. The sailors hauling, the song in the rigging, the obvious time of day--in the "dogwatches"--are little touches of realism which will be appreciated by all who know board-ship life.
She turns to Brangäne, and with a look of the utmost scorn, indicating Tristan, she asks:
What thinkst thou of the slave? ... Him there who shirks my gaze, and looks on the ground in shame and fear?
Isolde here strikes the tone which she maintains throughout the act until all is changed by the philtre. Never has such blighting sarcasm before been represented in the drama as that which Isolde pours out upon Tristan. She is by far the stronger character of the two. Her rage is volcanic, and uses here its most effective weapon. Tristan writhes under her taunts, but cannot escape. The music unites inseparably with the words; even the rime adds its point as in mockery she continues Brangäne's praise of the hero:
Br. Dost thou ask of Tristan, beloved lady? the
wonder of all lands, the much-belauded man, the hero
without rival, the guard and ban of glory?