Isolda monologue (Act 1) — Tristan and Isolda: Opera in Three Acts

Heard I not ev'ry sentence? it all has reached my ear. If thou hast learnt my disgrace now hear too whence it has grown. How scoffingly they sing about me! Quickly could I requite them! What of the boat so bare and frail, that floated by our shore? What of the broken stricken man, feebly extended there? Isolda's art he gladly owned; with herbs, simples and healing salves the wounds from which he suffered she nursed in skilful wise. Though "Tantris" The name that he took unto him, as "Tristan" anon Isolda knew him, when in the sick man's keen blade she perceived a notch had been made, wherein did fit a splinter broken in Morold's head, the mangled token sent home in hatred rare: this hand did find it there. I heard a voice from distance dim; with the sword in hand I came to him. Full well I willed to slay him, for Morold's death to pay him. But from his sick bed he looked up not at the sword, not at my arm-- his eyes on mine were fastened, and his feebleness softened my heart: the sword--dropped from my fingers. Though Morold's steel had maimed him to health again I reclaimed him! when he hath homeward wended my emotion then might be ended.