ACT III.
For Love is lord of truth and loyalty,
Lifting himself out of the lowly dust
On golden plumes up to the purest sky,
Above the reach of loathly sinful lust,
Whose base affect through cowardly distrust
Of his weak wings dare not to heaven fly,
But like a moldwarp in the earth doth lie.
His dunghill thoughts, which do themselves enure
To dirty dross, no higher dare aspire,
Nor can his feeble earthly eyes endure
The flaming light of that celestial fire
Which kindleth love in generous desire,
And makes him mount above the native might
Of heavy earth, up to the heaven’s height.
Spenser, Hymn in Honour of Love.
In Venusberg: changing afterward to a woodland cross-way.
Venus.
G
ONE to his Goddess! the poor worm’s asleep.
And yet—I cannot follow him. Not even
Into the dreamland that these mortals use.
There, I am barred. The flaming sword of Light
Is set against me, and new pangs consume
This nest of scorpions where my heart once was.
Yet to my fearful task of hate I set
No faltering bosom. I will have this man,
His life, his strength; and live a little more.
Life—shall I ever reach the splendid sword
Of womanhood, and gird it, gain my will,
A human soul, and from that altitude
Renew the terrible war against the Gods?
I have called Chronos the devouring God
My father—shall his desolating reign
Never return? Ay me! this heart of hate,
Loathing the man, takes comfort in the beast,
And gloats on the new garbage for an hour.
So, Sin, embrace me! Watch; he moves again,
Transfigured by the dream: slow rapture steals
Over his face. Mere godhead could not bring
That human light and living! I will win.
He must have banished Her—and dreams of me.
Tannhäuser (in sleep).
Elizabeth!
Venus.
His far-off baby-love!
I triumph, then! The Goddess hath withdrawn.
His mind works back to childhood, babydom,
Will grow to manhood and remember me.
Tannhäuser (awaking, leaps to his feet).
Freedom! Elizabeth! All hail to Her!
Radiant Goddess! Liberty and love!
Venus.
What sayest thou? Curse Her!
Tannhäuser.
My Elizabeth!
Venus.
What? Art thou mad? Come close to me again.
Forget this nightmare. Rather, tell me it,
And I will soothe thee. Have I not a balm,
A sovereign comfort in my old caress?
Tannhäuser.
I must begone. She waits.
Venus.
Who waits? Come here!
Let us talk fondly, set together still,
Not with these shouts and wavings of the arms,
Struts and unseemly gestures. Tannhäuser!
Tannhäuser.
She waits for me, my sweet Elizabeth!
Venus or Lilith, I have loved thee well!
Now, to my freedom!
Venus.
Your Elizabeth!
Tannhäuser.
Ay, to those pure and alabaster brows,
The tender fingers, and the maiden smile.
Burn the whore’s bed! Unpaint the cruel lips!
Cover the shameless belly, and forget
The cunning attitudes and aptitudes!
Unlearn the mowings, the lascivious grins!
I perceive purity.
Venus.
Nay, I have loved thee!
Fresh pleasure hourly filled the crystal cup.
Shalt thou find wine so comely and so keen,
So fresh with life to fill each aching vein
With new electric fervour? Will she be
My equal? She is mortal and a child.
Her arms are frail and white. Her lily cheeks
Could never take thy kiss. Thy love would shock,
Repel. I scorn to say her love were less
Than mine: I tell thee that she could not love
Thee even at all as thou wouldst understand.
Tannhäuser.
So certain art thou? Let me go to her,
Try, and come back!
Venus.
No doubt of that success!
A child is easy to degrade!
Tannhäuser.
Vile thing
I will try otherwise—to raise myself:
But if I fail, I will not drag her down;
I will return.
Venus.
To lose thee for one hour
Is my swift death—so desolate am I!
I have not got one lover in the world,
Save only Tannhäuser. And he will go.
Tannhäuser.
One lover! Who makes up the equal soul
Of all the wickedness beneath the sun?
Lilith! Seek out thy children to devour!
Leave me. I go to my Elizabeth.
Venus.
O no! It kills me! That is naked truth.
I am the soul and symbol of desire,
Yet individual to thy love. Stay! Stay!
One last caress, and then I let thee go,
And—die. I fear, and I detest, this death.
I am not mortal, doomed to it! I slip
Into mere slime; no resurrection waits
Me, made the vilest of the stars that fell.
I must not die. I dare not. But for thee,
Thy love, one last extreme delirium!—
Take thou this dagger! At the miracle
Of a moment when our lips are fastened close
Once more, in the unutterable kiss,
Drive its sharp spirit to my heart!
Tannhäuser.
Not I!
I know the spell. I am warned. I will begone.
Venus.
I swear I will not let thee! Thinkest thou
So long I have held thee not to have the power
To hold thee still by charm, or love, or force?
Fool, for I hate thee! I will have thy life!
Tannhäuser.
Where is the cavern in the mountain side,
The accurséd gateway of this house of Hell?
Venus.
Thou canst not find it! Fool!
Tannhäuser.
And yet I will.
Venus.
Meanwhile my chant shall tremble in the air,
And rack thy limbs with poison, wither up
The fine full blood, breed serpents in thy heart,
And worms to eat thee. Living thou shalt be
A sensible corpse, a walking sepulchre.
Come, come, Apollyon! Come, my Aggereth!
Belial, cheat his ears and blind his eyes!
Come, all ye tribes of serpents and foul fish!
Beetle and worm, I have a feast for you!
Tannhäuser.
The palace staggers. I can hardly see—
Only these writhing horrors. I am blind!
Venus.
Ha! My true knight! I ask thee once again,
Once more invoke the epithets of love,
Suspend my powers—constrain thee on my knees
For thine old kisses. See, I am all thine!
All thine the splendid body, and the shape
Of mighty breasts, and supple limbs, and wide
Lips, and slow almond eyes! Adorable,
Seductive, sombre, moving amorously,
Droop the long eyelids, purple with young blood,
The lazy lashes and the flowing mane,
The flame of fire from head to feet of me!
The subtle fervours, drunken heats and ways,
And perfumes maddening from the soul of spring!
The little nipples, and the dangerous pit
Set smiling in the alabaster; thine,
The glowing arms are thine, the desperate
Fresh kisses, and the gold that lurks upon
The sunny skin, the marble of these brows,
The roses, and the poppies, and the scent
Subtle and sinful—thine, all thine, are these,
What with my heart that only beats for thee,
The many-throned and many-minded soul
Centred to do thee worship. Hither, hither!
Tannhäuser.
This shakes my spirit as a winnower
Whose fan is the eternal breath of God;
Yet on my forehead I perceive a star
That shames thy beauties and thy manifold
Mind with its tiny triple flame. I go!
Venus.
Try not the impossible. Thou knowest my power.
I shall renew the charm.
Tannhäuser.
I see a Power
Above thy mockery of witchcraft. Work
Thy devilish lusts on me unfortunate!
There is no gateway to this fortalice?
Thy fiends surround me? Hein! their pangs begin!
I have one word, one cry, one exorcism:
Avé Maria!
Venus.
Mercy! Mercy, God!
[Thunder rolls in the lightning-riven sky. All the illusion vanishes, and Tannhäuser finds himself in a cross-way of the forest, where is a Crucifix. He is kneeling at the foot, amazed, as one awakening from a dream, or from a vision of mysterious power.
Tannhäuser.
I am escapéd as a little bird
Out of the fowler’s net. I thank Thee, God!
For in the pit of horror, and the clay
Of death I cried, and Thou hast holpen me,
Set me upon a rock, established me,
And filled my mouth, and tuned mine ancient lyre
With a new song—praise, praise to God above,
And to Our Lady of the Smitten Heart,
That David never knew: my pettiness
Exceeding through Her mercy and Her might
The King and Priest of Israel; for I know
Her love, and She hath shewn to me Her face,
And given me a magic star to stand
Over the house that hides Elizabeth.
[A shepherd-boy is discovered upon a rock hard by.
Shepherd-boy.
Ta-lirra-lirra! Hillo-ho! The morning!
[He plays upon his flute.
Tannhäuser.
These were the melodies that I despised!
Oh God! Be merciful to sinful me,
And keep me in the Way of Truth. But Thou!
Forgive, forgive! Lead, lead me to Thy Light!
Shepherd-boy (sings).
Light in the sky
Dawns to the East!
Song-bird and beast
Wake and reply.
Let me not die,
Now, at the least!
Lord of the Light!
Queen of the dawn!
Soul of the Night
Hid and withdrawn!
Voice of the thunder!
Light of the levin!
I worship and wonder,
O maker of Heaven!
The night falls asunder;
The darkness is riven!
Light, O eternal!
Life, O diurnal!
Love, O withdrawn!
Heart of my May, spring
Far to Thy dawn!
God of the dayspring!
Sun on the lawn!
Hail to Thy splendour,
Holy, I cry!
Mary shall bend her
Face from the sky,
Subtle and tender—
Then I can die!
Tannhäuser.
The simple love of life and gladness there!
Merely to be, and worship at the heart.
How complex, the machinery of me!
Better? I doubt it. Hark! he tunes again.
Shepherd-boy (sings).
O Gretchen, when the morn is grey,
Forsake thy flocks and steal away
To that low bank where, shepherds say,
The flowers eternal are.
Thine eyes should gleam to see me there,
As fixed upon a star.
And yet thy lips should take a tune,
And match me unaware—
So steals the sun beside the moon
And hides her lustre rare.
The bloom upon the peach is fine;
The blossom on thy cheek is mine!
O kiss me—if you dare!
I called thee by the name of love
That mothers fear and gods approve,
And maidens blush to say—
O Gretchen, meet me in the dell
We know and love, who love so well,
While morn is cold and gray!
So, match thy blushes to the dawn;
Thy bosom to the rising moon,
Until our loves to earth have drawn
Some new bewitching tune.
Come, Gretchen, in the dusk of day,
Where nymphs and dryads creep away
Beneath the oaks, to laugh and play
And sink in lover’s swoon.
We’ll sing them sister songs, and shew
What secrets mortal lovers know.
Tannhäuser.
The simple life of love and joy therein!
Merely to love—to take such pride in it
Gods must behold! The childish easiness,
Impossible to me, who am become
Perhaps the subtlest mind of men. Alas!
Maybe in this I still am self-deceived,
Merely the fool swelled up with bitter words,
Imagination, and the toadstool growth,
Thought, wounded; as a scorpion to sting
Its own bruised life out. This is Tannhäuser!
How long ago since he took pleasure in
Such love— [A horn winds.
such music as yon horn below—
[A chant is heard.
Such worship as the simple chant that steals
Calm and majestic in the solitude
Up from the valley. Pilgrims, by my fay!
[Enter Pilgrims.
Pilgrims.
Hail to Thee, Lady bright,
Queen of the stars of night!
Avé Maria!
Spouse of the Breath divine,
Hail to Thee, shrouded shrine,
Whence our Redeemer came!
Hail to Thy holy name!
Avé Maria!
Tannhäuser.
Those words that saved me!
Shepherd-boy.
Pray, your blessing, sirs!
I worship Mary in my simple way,
And see Her name in all the starry host,
And Jesus crucified on every tree
For me! God speed you to the House of God!
The Eldest Pilgrim.
The Blessing of the Virgin on your head!
The Youngest Pilgrim.
What make you, sir, so downcast? Come with us
Who taste all happiness in uneasiness,
Hunger and thirst, in His sweet Name—
Tannhäuser.
Ah no!
I have been shown another way than yours!
I am too old in this world’s weariness,
Too hungry in its hunger unto God,
Too foolish-wise, too passionate-cynical,
To seek your royal road to Deity!
Another Pilgrim.
Leave him! Belike ’tis some philosopher
With words too big to understand himself.
Tannhäuser.
With heart too seared to understand himself!
With mind too wise to understand himself!
With soul too small to understand himself!
Eldest Pilgrim.
Cling to the Cross, sir, there is hope in that!
Tannhäuser.
You know not, friend, the man to whom you speak.
I have lived long in miracles enough,
Myself the crowning miracle of all,
That I am merely here. God speed you, sirs!
I ask your blessing, not to stay therewith
My soul’s own need (though that is dire enough)
But—he that blesseth shall himself be blessed!
My blessing were small help to you, my friends.
An Intelligent Pilgrim.
For your own reason, give it to us, then!
Tannhäuser.
The Blessing of the Lord! May Mary’s self
Be with you and defend you evermore,
Most from the fearful destiny of him
Men used to call the minstrel Tannhäuser!
Eldest Pilgrim.
A sombre blessing! May God’s mercy fall
On you and yours!
Tannhäuser.
On mine, ah mine! Amen
Amen to that!
Eldest Pilgrim (smiles).
On her you love, my friend!
We will pass onward, by your honour’s leave!
Pilgrims.
Hail, hail, O Queen, to Thee,
Spouse of Eternity!
Avé Maria!
Mother in Maidenhood!
Saintly Beatitude!
Queen of the Angel Host!
Bride of the Holy Ghost!
Avé Maria!
[Exeunt Pilgrims.
Tannhäuser.
The love of Isis! No mere love to Her
That is inborn in every soul of us!
It is Her love to Christ that we must taste,
Uniting us with Her eternal sigh.
There is a problem infinite again.
I have not gained one jot since first I saw
The stately bosom of the Venusberg,
Save that mine eyes have seen a little truth,
My body found a little weariness.
I am very feeble! Hither comes the hunt!
[A horn winds quite close by.
The noble, doomed, swift beauty! Closer yet
Pant the long hounds! What heart he has! One, two!
See the brach dying by his bloody flank!
So could not Tannhäuser awhile ago.
My help lay outside and above myself.
What skills him he is brave? He ends the same.
Poor stag! Here sweep the foremost hunters up.
My very kinsmen! There rides Wolfram too!
The proper minstrel! The ideal lover!
The pure, unsullied soul. Even so, forsooth!
They tell no secrets in the scullery.
And there is Heinrich, wastrel of the Court,
Yet hides a heart beneath the foolish face.
And lo! The Landgrave! Flushed, undignified!
The chase was long—if he could see himself!
Wind, wind the mort! What call will answer me
When I step forward? Am I dead, I wonder,
Or merely on my hare-brain quest? Three years
Since I was seen in Germany!
[He descends the hill and enters the company.
Hail, friends!
Good cousin Landgrave, merry be the meet!
Landgrave.
Hands off me, fellow! Who are you?
Tannhäuser.
My lord,
Your cousin. Is my face so changed with care,
My body shrunken with my suffering
(That was not ever of the body) so?
Wolfram.
I know you, my old friend! Our chiefest bird!
Sweetest of singers!
Tannhäuser.
No, the naughty one!
Heinrich.
Tannhäuser! Yes! And we have thought you dead.
Landgrave.
Friends, will you swear to him?
Heinrich.
Yes, yes, ’tis he!
Wolfram.
I know the blithe look in the sober eyes!
Landgrave.
Changed verily. It was most urgent, cousin,
I were assured of your identity.
Three weeks the couriers scour the land for you,
Urgent demands:—how came you here at last?
Your horse? Your arms? Three years since Germany
Saw the brave eyes and kindly face of you!
Where have you been? Upon the sacred quest
Still riding?
Tannhäuser.
Ay, my lord, upon the quest.
Landgrave.
You travelled in far lands?
Tannhäuser.
Far, very far!
Landgrave.
You fought with Turks?
Tannhäuser.
I fought within myself.
Landgrave.
Why is such suffering written in dark lines,
And painted in the greyness of your hair?
Tannhäuser.
I had an evil dream.
Landgrave.
You saw the Grail?
Tannhäuser.
I saw—strange things.
Wolfram.
For very feebleness
Your limbs shake under you. How hither, friend?
Your horse and arms? Your squire?
Tannhäuser (with sudden passion).
My squire is dead.
I am no weakling that I need a knave
Hanging upon me—’tis an incubus.
Landgrave.
And then your horse?
Tannhäuser.
I know not; possibly
Kept as an hostage. I was prisoner once.
Wolfram.
Prisoner? By here?
Tannhäuser.
A-many castles, sir,
Held by old ogres—and not all of them
Stand in the mid-day, front the sober sun,
Answer the slug-horn.
Landgrave.
You are pleased to riddle.
Ever the poet!
Tannhäuser (aside).
Let me try the truth
For certitude of incredulity!
(Aloud, laughing) I was in Venusberg!
All (except Heinrich, who laughs).
Save us, Maria!
[They look about them fearfully and cross themselves.
Landgrave.
Even in jest, such words!—Most dangerous
Even to think of!—but to speak!
Heinrich (aside).
These fools!
[He remains, thoughtfully regarding Tannhäuser.
Landgrave.
God avert omens! Soft you, Tannhäuser,
You heard the heralds?
Tannhäuser.
Never a word of them!
Landgrave.
You must remember my Elizabeth,
My daughter—I designed to marry her
To a most noble youth—
Tannhäuser.
Von Aschenheim?
Landgrave.
The same. I would have wed her, but (’tis strange!)
The lady had a purpose of her own,
And swore by all the Virgins in the Book
She would wed nobody but—Tannhäuser.
So, like the foolish, doting sire I am,
I gave her thirty days to find you. This
Must dumb you with astonishment.
Tannhäuser.
Well, no!
The details, unfamiliar! But the theme
I knew. And therefore leaps my bosom up:
I rob your verderer of his nag, and ho!
Low the long gallop to Elizabeth!
Wolfram.
Lucky and brave. How we all envy you!
Heinrich.
Envy? This day when he comes back to us!
Why, we are lucky too! We thought you dead!
Wolfram.
Begrudge you, no! But—wish our luck were yours?
Yes! Come, Tannhäuser, there’s my hand on it!
Luck, love, and loyalty—the triple toast!
Foresters.
Tannhäuser! Luck, and love, and loyalty!
Tannhäuser.
I thank you, loving kinsmen and my friends.
But see, I am impatient to be gone!
Your horse—that favour I shall not forget,
Nor linger to repay. Good morrow then!
Good sport all day!
Landgrave.
God speed thee, Tannhäuser.
[Exit Tannhäuser.
Am I still dreaming? It was surely he
But such an one, compact of suffering,
Of joy, of love, of pity, of despair;
Half senseless, half too subtle for my sense.
Wolfram.
He has passed through some unimagined test,
Or undergone some sorrow. Leave it so!
I saw high grief upon him, and new love!
Heinrich.
You are the poet! To your instinct then!
Here’s to the insight given us by God!
Landgrave.
Wolfram is right; a truce to jest to-day.
The dogs are loose. Ride forward, gentlemen!
[Amid the winding of horns and cries of the
huntsmen the company moves off.
Heinrich.
They hate his very name! Dear Tannhäuser!
[Exit.