Act 3 — SCENE II.—One of the towers of the castle.—watchman's round passes under a window in the tower.
Richard Hovey translation
MÉLISANDE (at the window, combing her unbound hair).
My long locks fall foaming To the threshold of the tower,— My locks await your coming All along the tower, And all the long, long hour, And all the long, long hour.
Saint Daniel and Saint Michaël, Saint Michaël and Saint Raphaël.
I was born on a Sunday, A Sunday at high noon….
Enter PÉLLÉAS by the watchman's round.
PÉLLÉAS.
Holà! Holà! ho!…
MÉLISANDE.
Who is there?
PÉLLÉAS.
I, I, and I!… What art thou doing there at the window, singing like a bird that is not native here?
MÉLISANDE.
I am doing my hair for the night…
PÉLLÉAS.
Is it that I see upon the wall?… I thought you had some light….
MÉLISANDE.
I have opened the window; it is too hot in the tower…. It is beautiful to-night….
PÉLLÉAS.
There are innumerable stars; I have never seen so many as to-night;… but the moon is still upon the sea…. Do not stay in the shadow, Mélisande; lean forward a little till I see your unbound hair….
MÉLISANDE.
I am frightful so…. [She learn out at the window.
PÉLLÉAS.
Oh! oh! Mélisande!… oh, thou art beautiful!… thou art beautiful so!… Lean out! lean out!… Let me come nearer thee….
MÉLISANDE
I cannot come nearer thee…. I am leaning out as far as I can….
PÉLLÉAS.
I cannot come up higher;… give me at least thy hand to-night … before I go away…. I leave to-morrow….
MÉLISANDE.
No, no, no!…
PÉLLÉAS.
Yes, yes, yes; I leave, I shall leave to-morrow…. Give me thy hand, thy hand, thy little hand upon my lips….
MÉLISANDE.
I give thee not my hand if thou wilt leave….
PÉLLÉAS.
Give, give, give!…
MÉLISANDE.
Thou wilt not leave?…
PÉLLÉAS.
I will wait; I will wait….
MÉLISANDE.
I see a rose in the shadows….
PÉLLÉAS.
Where?… I see only the boughs of the willow hanging over the wall….
MÉLISANDE.
Further down, further down, in the garden; further down, in the sombre green….
PÉLLÉAS.
It is not a rose…. I will go see by and by, but give me thy hand first; first thy hand….
MÉLISANDE.
There, there;… I cannot lean out further….
PÉLLÉAS.
I cannot reach thy hand with my lips….
MÉLISANDE.
I cannot lean out further…. I am on the point of falling….—Oh! oh! my hair is falling down the tower!…
[Her tresses fall suddenly over her head, as she is leaning out so, and stream over PÉLLÉAS]
PÉLLÉAS.
Oh! oh! what is it?… Thy hair, thy hair is falling down to me!… All thy locks, Mélisande, all thy locks have fallen down the tower!… I hold them in my hands; I hold them in my mouth…. I hold them in my arms; I put them about my neck…. I will not open my hands again to-night….
MÉLISANDE.
Let me go! let me go!… Thou wilt make me fall!…
PÉLLÉAS.
No, no, no;… I have never seen such hair as thine, Mélisande!… See, see, see; it comes from so high and yet it floods me to the heart!… And yet it floods me to the knees!… And it is sweet, sweet as if it fell from heaven!… I see the sky no longer through thy locks. Thou seest, thou seest?… I can no longer hold them with both hands; there are some on the boughs of the willow…. They are alive like birds in my hands,… and they love me, they love me more than thou!…
MÉLISANDE.
Let me go; let me go!… Some one might come….
PÉLLÉAS.
No, no, no; I shall not set thee free to-night…. Thou art my prisoner to-night; all night, all night!…
MÉLISANDE.
Pélléas! Pélléas!…
PÉLLÉAS.
I tie them, I tie them to the willow boughs…. Thou shalt not go away now;… thou shalt not go away now…. Look, look, I am kissing thy hair…. I suffer no more in the midst of thy hair…. Hearest thou my kisses along thy hair?… They mount along thy hair…. Each hair must bring thee some…. Thou seest, thou seest, I can open my hands…. My hands are free, and thou canst not leave me now….
MÉLISANDE.
Oh! oh! thou hurtest me…. [Doves come out of the tower and fly about them in the night.]—What is that, Pélléas?—What is it flying about me?
PÉLLÉAS.
It is the doves coming oat of the tower…. I have frightened them; they are flying away….
MÉLISANDE.
It is my doves, Pélléas.—Let us go away, let me go; they will not come back again….
PÉLLÉAS.
Why will they not come back again?
MÉLISANDE
They will be lost in the dark…. Let me go; let me lift my head…. I hear a noise of footsteps…. Let me go!—It is Golaud!… I believe it is Golaud!… He has heard us….
PÉLLÉAS.
Wait! Wait!… Thy hair is about the boughs…. It is caught there in the darkness…. Wait, wait!… It is dark….
Enter GOLAUD, by the watchman's round.
GOLAUD.
What do you here?
PÉLLÉAS.
What do I here?… I….
GOLAUD.
You are children…. Mélisande, do not lean out so at the window; you will fall…. Do you not know it is late?—It is nearly midnight.—Do not play so in the darkness.—You are children…. [Laughing nervously.] What children!… What children!… [Exit, with PÉLLÉAS.