ISOLDA (looking fondly up at TRISTAN).
Let me die thus!
TRISTAN. Must I waken?
ISOLDA. Nought shall wake me!
TRISTAN. Must not daylight
dawn, and rouse me?
ISOLDA. Let the Day
to Death surrender!
TRISTAN. May thus the Day's
evil threats be defied?
ISOLDA (with growing enthusiasm).
From its thraldom let us fly.
TRISTAN. And shall not its dawn
be dreaded by us?
ISOLDA (rising with a grand gesture).
Night will shield us for aye!
(TRISTAN follows her; they embrace in fond exaltation.)