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Tristan, on arriving, at once challenges Morold to decide the question of tribute in single combat with himself. They fight: Tristan is wounded; Morold calls upon him to desist from fighting, saying that his weapon is poisoned, and that the wound cannot be healed except by his sister Isot, the wife of King Gurmun.
"Oliver," he added apart to that favourite, who ever waited around him like the familiar beside a sorcerer, "hark thee tell Tristan to be speedy in dealing with yonder runagate Bohemian." I'll take thee to the good green wood, And make thine own hand choose the tree.
Since Mozart wrote those creeping chromatic chords in the scene following the death of the Commendatore in "Don Giovanni," nothing so solemn and still, so full of the pathetic majesty of death, as the passage following the words "with Tristan true to perish" has been written.
The baron was sitting already before the organ and had begun to play some grand church composition; in the dignified sound of that music Tristan made a knightly bow to Isolde, and the "Triumph of Death," with its dark outline, was reflected on the background of Alberich's white habit, while the saints painted with golden haloes on the windows clasped their pale hands above their bright robes.
His cousin softly drew near, and taking in her own the hand Maurice had dropped, said, "You know us, Count Tristan, do you not?" His eyes, as though drawn by her voice, turned quickly, and fastened themselves upon her face; his hands made a nervous clutch, his lips moved, but the sounds were thick and indistinct, yet the first syllable of her name was audible to all.
"It is well," said Louis. "I will answer for Tristan. Have this fellow sent to me here." With another reverence Olivier left the king and ascended the steps into the palace. The king sniffed pensively at the rose which Katherine had given to him.
And the anxious grey-bearded nurse, to rouse in the patient some gleam of joy in being, of pride in past prowess, breaks enthusiastically forth: "Oh, what good fortune Tristan, brave and bonny, met with there! What splendour of glory, what honors he won in the teeth of his enemies!" "Am I in Cornwall?" Tristan asks discouragingly. "No, no, I have told you! At Kareol." "How did I get here?"
Yet several writers point out that the rôles of Tristan, Brunnhilde, etc., are vastly more effective when well sung than when merely shouted or declaimed. A change in the public taste is also spoken of. Audiences are said to be indifferent to the older operas, written to suit the style of florid singing. But even this statement does not pass unchallenged.
"At all events," said Bertha, trying to rally and talk cheerfully, though she could not chase that haunting fear from her thoughts, "my aunt is no longer angry with you, and cousin Tristan was well pleased. They will treat you better after this, and your home will be happier." "My home?" ejaculated Madeleine, in a tone that made Bertha start.
During the long interval that elapsed between the execution of the earlier portion of the Second Act of Siegfried and the resumption of his work many things happened to Wagner. He composed Tristan and the Mastersingers; he went through his worst years of utter despair; he was taken up by King Ludwig.
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