Tristan and Isolde

[A pavilion erected on the deck of a ship, richly hung with tapestry, quite closed in at back at first. A narrow hatchway at one side leads bellow into the cabin.]

Isolda on a couch, her face buried in the cushions.—Brangæna holding open a curtain, looks over the side of the vessel.

The Voice of a Young Sailor. (from above as if at the mast-head). Westward surges slip, eastward speeds the ship. The wind so wild blows homeward now; my Irish child, where waitest thou? Say, must our sails be weighed, Filled by thy sighs unbated? Waft us, wind strong and wild! Woe, ah woe for my child! O Irish maid! my winsome, marvellous maid!

Isolda starting up suddenly. What wight dares insult me?