The light, how long it glows!
When will the house repose?

(_His voice has grown fainter and he sinks back gently,
exhausted_.)

KURVENAL (_who has been deeply distressed, now quickly rousts
himself from his dejection_).
I once defied,
through faith in thee,
the one for whom
now with thee I'm yearning.
Trust in my words,
thou soon shalt see her
face to face.
My tongue that comfort giveth,--
if on the earth still she liveth.

TRISTAN (_very feebly_). Yet burns the beacon's spark:
yet is the house not dark,
Isolda lives and wakes:
her voice through darkness breaks.

KURVENAL. Lives she still,
then let new hope delight thee.
If foolish and dull you hold me,
this day you must not scold me.
As dead lay'st thou
since the day
when that accursed Melot