Brangeane to bring.

The bewildered handmaiden hastily pours a drug into the cup. This
she tremblingly brings to her mistress, who, hearing the vessel
grate on the pebbly shore, tells Tristan his loathsome task
will soon be over, and that he will soon be able to relinquish
her to the care of his uncle.

Tristan, suspecting that the contents of the cup are poisonous,
nevertheless calmly takes it from her hand and puts it to his
lips. But ere he has drunk half the potion, Ysolde snatches
it from his grasp and greedily drains the rest. Instead of the
ice-cold chill of death which they both expected, Tristan and
Ysolde suddenly feel the electric tingle of love rushing madly
through all their veins, and, forgetting all else, fall into
each other's arms, exchanging passionate vows of undying love.

Brangeane, the only witness of this scene, views with terror
the effect of her subterfuge, for, fearing lest her mistress
should injure Tristan or herself, she had hastily substituted
the love potion intrusted to her care for the poison Ysolde
had prepared. While the lovers, clasped in each other's arms,
unite in a duet of passionate love, the vessel is made fast
to the shore, where the royal bridegroom is waiting, and it
is only when Brangeane throws the royal mantle over Ysolde's
shoulders, and when Kurvenal bids them step ashore, that the
lovers suddenly realise that their brief dream of love is over.

The sudden revulsion from great joy to overwhelming despair
proves too much for Ysolde's delicate frame, and she sinks