To Tim MEMORY o r MY FATH ER T H IS MY FIRS T ATTEMPT ‘ Is AFF ECTION ATELY D EDICATED TRANSLATOR’S NOTE ! Through Tant ris der Narr Ernst Hardt has won for himself a place in the front rank of con The temporaneous Ge rman dramat ists and poets. play has been produced with great success on many of he N ion rm h al so been t at al Ge an st ages, and as i ll re ter awarded the Kaiser Preis and , what s a st i g a a kno l en of i e he olks-S hiller c w edgm t ts m rit , t V c P i b once ver reis. Th s lat ter is a prize estowed e y three years on the best play produced during that erio mi e h h s o the p d , by a com t t e w ic acts ubj ect t ’ Em eror r i is p s app oval. Although as a d rama t not wel da e o Am e can s e et t he l a pt d t the ri tag , y great beauty and the compelling power with which Herr Hardt has handled the familiar theme of the T i r m n n i e r st a and Iseult lege d , but al ong a ew l n , h r i r n F r r on can a dly fa l of ecognitio . o this eas Ihave attempted to render this brilliant drama into En i gl sh. For my short -comings Ican only plead the almost insurmount able difliculty connected with any verse t ransl t ion inex ri e e a , and my pe ence. I, th refore, b g that this m r at e r ei e l nien b , y fi st t mpt , be ec v d e tly y tho h se into whose ands the book may fall. A J OH N HE RD, J R. Bo t o s n, 19 1 3. CH ARACTERS M ARK, King of Cornwall . ’ ISE UL T of Ireland (Mark s wife ) N ' BRA GAEN E , Iseult s lady . IM LL ’ G E A, Iseult s lady . ’ PA t RANIS , Iseul s page . L LORD DEN OVA IN . L LORD DIN/IS of idan . R N LO D GA EL UN . ' I e UGR Marh s st er. N, J TRA E T uise o Tristram o S NG JES ER , Disg f f L yonesse . TRA E EPER s uis o Tristr m o S NG L , Di g e f a f L o y nesse . Also v rons. we n Kin o he fi e Gaelic Ba I i , the g f t L ! e er . L L n H era oun p s The epers of ubi , a ld , a y g she herd e utioner. Thre uard in u p , t he Ex c e g s f ll arm or t t r n ht n ht Me - - r , he S ange K ig , K ig s, n at a ms, ro m t o g o s and a group of t he inhabi ants of t he t wn. S CENE T t n he Cas le of S t . L ubi IE ’ S ULT S APAR TMENT AT S T. L UBIN SCENE : (A curtain hung from the ceiling cuts on -t of e hird of t he room . This third is raised one st ep above the rest of the room . The background is formed by a d ouble bay-wind ow through which may be seen the t ops of som e pine trees. In front of a coach o mal tab e tan s r e o e , n a s l l , s d a la g g ld shri n i h c re t ma c br ch t r t o n w i h s s the gi a et P e ic u, a y of jewels and precious metals. Beside it stands a - burning oil t orch. The remaining tw o t hirds of t he room is alm ost empty . A table stands in t he fore ground ; on the floor lies a rug on which are e m br m or oidered ar ial d esigns. In t he middle and at both sides are wid e d ouble doors. Iseult sits on t he couc o h bef re the shrine . S he is clad i n a fur r mm o r en oosen t i ed r be . B anga e l s her hair which is T divid ed nt o two r . h o ra i b aids e c ld , g y light of daw n bright ens grad ually ; t he rising sun falls on the t o s o t he t rees colorin t em h oo p f , g h wit a fl d of red and gold . ) Tristram the J est er ACT I S cene I ISE ULT (S inging ) ’ Brachet of safran and em rald l le n l Oh, brachet of purp a d go d Once mad e by the mighty Urgan ’ In Avalun s wonderous wold O f l h purple, and sa ran, and go d , ni When cast in the dim of the ght , Have magical power to aid All lovers i n sorrowful plight ! mi Lord T ristram slew ghty U rgi u, Lo rd T ristram the loving, the true, And pitying sorrowful lovers He carried away Peticru. Lord T rist ram, the thought ful and Lord T rist ram , the noble and high , Has sent me this wonderous brachet Lest weeping and grieving Idie. L ord T rist ram , my friend , is unfaithful, ’ And God s wrath on him shall descend ; 9 Though cruelly he has betrayed me l e en e My ov , ev death, cannot nd Iseult with her hair of spun gold, here rubies an emeralds hi e W d s n , en the end of her li is Wh fe at hand , Round T rist ram some charm can ent wine. When T rist ram too shall die. Iseul u e tin he t t ( t stands p, x guis s he ligh , and , e r e t o t n flood d by her hai , st ps he wi dow . Brangaene e t rom r op ns a ches f which she takes obes, combs, a mirror and several small boxes. S he prepares a small dressing table . ) ISE ULT The light begins to filter through the land ; ’ B e - ehold , the t re s with storm how d tips drop down A thousand drops into the moss below m That seem as any sparks, all cold and bright . i o l b Each day s f l owed y another one, a a And then another d y, and fter each m i m ’ Co es n ght . Thus runs y life s long chai n of beads, e All black and white, endl ss, and all the same. ( she turns and throws off her cloak) i m n e o k an mb G ve e my ew whit cl a , d co my hair, — ! Ipray, Brangaene . O , it aches n en o (Bra ga e throws a cl ak over her shoulders. Iseult sits d ow n at t he dressing table while Bran v n nto gaene combs her hair, di idi g it i strands and ’ hr n t combs it over Iseu t sho er i as she l s uld . t owi g , , ) 10 The comb n Slides like a keel . Its arrow tee th can find N o bot tom neither shore in this blond sea. l I Inever saw thy hair so fu l, seult , Nor yet so heavy ! S ee the golden gold . — It aches l BRAN GAENE ’ And here it s damp as though last night It secretly had dried full many tears. ISE ULT Iwonder if Lo rd T ristram spent last night — By his new bride and if he calls her all m Those sweetest names he m ade for e. Perhaps He sat upon her couch and told her t ales Of m e that m ade them laugh Iwonder too ’ If h b r T ri t r ne - e bri s e e fai r, Lo d s am s w w d de 1 S cene II (Iseult t urns quickly as her page comes in by t he - r right hand d oor. H e carries a chess boa d and sets it d own on the table in the foreground . ) m Were then thy drea s too painfully like this life , t a i h as u i n Pa n s, t at thou h t o tstr pped the su ' An no i l re d w, w th eyes al d and swollen, starst So heavily ? l I our ar on Y p d , Queen Ise ult , Icoul not slee h d p. O lady, what a night ! Itremble st ill ! ISEULT The night indeed was h i Ay, like t e sea the gale wh ps up. The wind Swept all the covers from my bed and left r Me cold and trembling. B anches beat the wall A e like on of h bov my head dem s t e storm .