his mother's fate was taught,
when they who gave me breath
both felt the hand of death
to them came also
through their pain
the ancient ditty's
yearning strain,
which asked me once
and asks me now
which was the fate before me
to which my mother bore me?--
What was the fate?--
The strain so plaintive
now repeats it:--
for yearning--and dying!

(_He falls back senseless_.)

KURVENAL (_who has been vainly striving to calm_ TRISTAN, _cries
out in terror_).
My master! Tristan!--
Frightful enchantment!--
O love's deceit!
O passion's pow'r!
Most sweet dream 'neath the sun,
see the work thou hast done!--
Here lies he now,
the noblest of knights,
with his passion all others above:
behold! what reward