"To Tristan first she passed the same: He gave it to the royal dame. Thereof she drank reluctantly, Gave it to him, and then drank he; That wine it was they both believed. Then came Brangäne, who perceived And recognized at once the glass; She well saw what had come to pass. Thereon she felt such dire dismay That all her strength was giving way, And she appeared as are the dead; Her heart was filled with mortal dread. She seized the baleful glass she knew, And bore it hence away and threw It in the wildly raging sea. 'Oh, woe!' she spoke, 'Oh, woe is me, That in this world I e'er was born, I wretched one! Now I am shorn Of troth and honor which were mine. Have pity on me, Lord divine; Oh, that I came unto this shore And death took me not hence before-- That with Isold my lot was e'er This fatal enterprise to share! Oh, woe, Isold! Woe, Tristan, too! This draught is death to both of you.'" This Brangäne afterward explains to these two sudden lovers what has happened to them, and reiterates that the draught will be their death. Tristan declares that he will die happy possessing Isolde's love. But it is unnecessary to pursue the original legend further. Enough has been given to show that the Brangäne of Gottfried is not the Brangäne of Wagner. Again we meet with one of those effective modifications of the old stories which Wagner made in his dramas. The splendid figure of the Queen mother's confidante bewailing her momentary unwatchfulness and her loss of honor, ready for the sake of that betrayal of confidence to give up her now wretched life, is a vastly different creature from the Brangäne of Wagner, who administers the potion as the shortest way out of an impending trouble. Again, remember that this deed is one of pure unthinking devotion to the mistress. The fatal drink is the visible embodiment of fate. Appearing as it does in inanimate form, it needs an agent to convey it to the four lips of the lovers. That agent is found in the foolish, doting maid. Is it not a purely Wagnerian touch? Even Swinburne, poet of far higher fancy than Wagner, did not think of such a plan. He improves on the old legend by making Isolde herself administer the potion in error:-- "Iseult sought and would not wake Brangwain, Who slept as one half dead with fear and pain, Being tender natured; so with hushed light feet Went Iseult round her, with soft looks and sweet Pitying her pain; so sweet a spirited thing She was, and daughter of a kindly king. And spying what strange bright secret charge was kept Fair in that maid's white bosom while she slept, She sought and drew the gold cup forth and smiled, Marvelling, with such light wonder as a child That hears of glad, sad life in magic lands; And bear it back to Tristram with pure hands Holding the love draught that should be for flame To burn out of them fear and faith and shame."