ISOLDA. Now, wilt thou obey?

BRANGÆNA. O woe supreme!

ISOLDA. Wilt thou be true?

BRANGÆNA. The draught?

KURVENAL (_entering_). Sir Tristan!

(BRANGÆNA _rises, terrified and confused_. ISOLDA _strives with
immense effort to control herself_.)

ISOLDA (_to Kurvenal_). Sir Tristan may approach!


SCENE VI.

[KURVENAL _retires again_. BRANGÆNA, _almost beside herself,
turns up the stage_. ISOLDA, _mustering all her powers of
resolution, walks slowly and with dignity towards the sofa, by the
head of which she supports herself, turning her eyes firmly towards
the entrance_]

(TRISTAN _enters, and pauses respectfully at the entrance_.)

TRISTAN. Demand, lady,
what you will.

ISOLDA. While knowing not