The Romance of Tristan and Iseult
heard a brute bellow in such wise, so awful and strange it seemed. He
called a woman who passed by the harbour, and said:
“Tell me, lady, whence comes that voice I have heard, and hide me
nothing.”
“My lord,” said she, “I will tell you truly. It is the roar of a
dragon the most terrible and dauntless upon earth. Daily it leaves its
den and stands at one of the gates of the city: Nor can any come out
or go in till a maiden has been given up to it; and when it has her in
its claws it devours her.”
“Lady,” said Tristan, “make no mock of me, but tell me straight: Can a
man born of woman kill this thing?”
“Fair sir, and gentle,” she said, “I cannot say; but this is sure:
Twenty knights and tried have run the venture, because the King of
Ireland has published it that he will give his daughter, Iseult the
Fair, to whomsoever shall kill the beast; but it has devoured them
all.”
Tristan left the woman and returning to his ship armed himself in
secret, and it was a fine sight to see so noble a charger and so good
a knight come out from such a merchant-hull: but the haven was empty
of folk, for the dawn had barely broken and none saw him as he rode to
the gate. And hardly had he passed it, when he met suddenly five men
at full gallop flying towards the town. Tristan seized one by his
hair, as he passed, and dragged him over his mount’s crupper and held
him fast:
“God save you, my lord,” said he, “and whence does the dragon come?”
And when the other had shown him by what road, he let him go.
As the monster neared, he showed the head of a bear and red eyes like
coals of fire and hairy tufted ears; lion’s claws, a serpent’s tail,
and a griffin’s body.
Tristan charged his horse at him so strongly that, though the beast’s
mane stood with fright yet he drove at the dragon: his lance struck
its scales and shivered. Then Tristan drew his sword and struck at the
dragon’s head, but he did not so much as cut the hide. The beast felt
the blow: with its claws he dragged at the shield and broke it from
the arm; then, his breast unshielded, Tristan used the sword again and
struck so strongly that the air rang all round about: but in vain, for
he could not wound and meanwhile the dragon vomited from his nostrils
two streams of loath-some flames, and Tristan’s helm blackened like a
cinder and his horse stumbled and fell down and died; but Tristan
standing on his feet thrust his sword right into the beast’s jaws, and
split its heart in two.
Then he cut out the tongue and put it into his hose, but as the poison
came against his flesh the hero fainted and fell in the high grass
that bordered the marsh around.
Now the man he had stopped in flight was the Seneschal of Ireland and
he desired Iseult the Fair: and though he was a coward, he had dared
so far as to return with his companions secretly, and he found the
dragon dead; so he cut off its head and bore it to the King, and
claimed the great reward.
The King could credit his prowess but hardly, yet wished justice done
and summoned his vassals to court, so that there, before the Barony
assembled, the seneschal should furnish proof of his victory won.
When Iseult the Fair heard that she was to be given to this coward
first she laughed long, and then she wailed. But on the morrow,
doubting some trick, she took with her Perinis her squire and Brangien
her maid, and all three rode unbeknownst towards the dragon’s lair:
and Iseult saw such a trail on the road as made her wonder—for the
hoofs that made it had never been shod in her land. Then she came on
the dragon, headless, and a dead horse beside him: nor was the horse
harnessed in the fashion of Ireland. Some foreign man had slain the
beast, but they knew not whether he still lived or no.
They sought him long, Iseult and Perinis and Brangien together, till
at last Brangien saw the helm glittering in the marshy grass: and
Tristan still breathed. Perinis put him on his horse and bore him
secretly to the women’s rooms. There Iseult told her mother the tale
and left the hero with her, and as the Queen unharnessed him, the
dragon’s tongue fell from his boot of steel. Then, the Queen of
Ireland revived him by the virtue of an herb and said:
“Stranger, I know you for the true slayer of the dragon: but our
seneschal, a felon, cut off its head and claims my daughter Iseult for
his wage; will you be ready two days hence to give him the lie in
battle?”
“Queen,” said he, “the time is short, but you, I think, can cure me in
two days. Upon the dragon I conquered Iseult, and on the seneschal
perhaps I shall reconquer her.”
Then the Queen brewed him strong brews, and on the morrow Iseult the
Fair got him ready a bath and anointed him with a balm her mother had
conjured, and as he looked at her he thought, “So I have found the
Queen of the Hair of Gold,” and he smiled as he thought it. But
Iseult, noting it, thought, “Why does he smile, or what have I
neglected of the things due to a guest? He smiles to think I have for—
gotten to burnish his armour.”
She went and drew the sword from its rich sheath, but when she saw the
splinter gone and the gap in the edge she thought of the Morholt’s
head. She balanced a moment in doubt, then she went to where she kept
the steel she had found in the skull and she put it to the sword, and
it fitted so that the join was hardly seen.
She ran to where Tristan lay wounded, and with the sword above him she
cried:
“You are that Tristan of the Lyonesse, who killed the Morholt, my
mother’s brother, and now you shall die in your turn.”
Tristan strained to ward the blow, but he was too weak; his wit,
however, stood firm in spite of evil and he said:
“So be it, let me die: but to save yourself long memories, listen
awhile. King’s daughter, my life is not only in your power but is
yours of right. My life is yours because you have twice returned it
me. Once, long ago: for I was the wounded harper whom you healed of
the poison of the Morholt’s shaft. Nor repent the healing: were not
these wounds had in fair fight? Did I kill the Morholt by treason? Had
he not defied me and was I not held to the defence of my body? And now
this second time also you have saved me. It was for you I fought the
beast.
“But let us leave these things. I would but show you how my life is
your own. Then if you kill me of right for the glory of it, you may
ponder for long years, praising yourself that you killed a wounded
guest who had wagered his life in your gaining.”
Iseult replied: “I hear strange words. Why should he that killed the
Morholt seek me also, his niece? Doubtless because the Morholt came
for a tribute of maidens from Cornwall, so you came to boast returning
that you had brought back the maiden who was nearest to him, to
Cornwall, a slave.”
“King’s daughter,” said Tristan, “No. … One day two swallows flew, and
flew to Tintagel and bore one hair out of all your hairs of gold, and
I thought they brought me good will and peace, so I came to find you
over-seas. See here, amid the threads of gold upon my coat your hair
is sown: the threads are tarnished, but your bright hair still
shines.”
Iseult put down the sword and taking up the Coat of Arms she saw upon
it the Hair of Gold and was silent a long space, till she kissed him
on the lips to prove peace, and she put rich garments over him.
On the day of the barons’ assembly, Tristan sent Perinis privily to
his ship to summon his companions that they should come to court
adorned as befitted the envoys of a great king.
One by one the hundred knights passed into the hall where all the
barons of Ireland stood, they entered in silence and sat all in rank
together: on their scarlet and purple the gems gleamed.
When the King had taken his throne, the seneschal arose to prove by
witness and by arms that he had slain the dragon and that so Iseult
was won. Then Iseult bowed to her father and said:
“King, I have here a man who challenges your seneschal for lies and
felony. Promise that you will pardon this man all his past deeds, who
stands to prove that he and none other slew the dragon, and grant him
forgiveness and your peace.”
The King said, “I grant it.” But Iseult said, “Father, first give me
the kiss of peace and forgiveness, as a sign that you will give him
the same.”
Then she found Tristan and led him before the Barony. And as he came
the hundred knights rose all together, and crossed their arms upon
their breasts and bowed, so the Irish knew that he was their lord.
But among the Irish many knew him again and cried, “Tristan of
Lyonesse that slew the Morholt!” They drew their swords and clamoured
for death. But Iseult cried: “King, kiss this man upon the lips as
your oath was,” and the King kissed him, and the clamour fell.
Then Tristan showed the dragon’s tongue and offered the seneschal
battle, but the seneschal looked at his face and dared not.
Then Tristan said:
“My lords, you have said it, and it is truth: I killed the Morholt.
But I crossed the sea to offer you a good blood-fine, to ransom that
deed and get me quit of it.
“I put my body in peril of death and rid you of the beast and have so
conquered Iseult the Fair, and having conquered her I will bear her
away on my ship.
“But that these lands of Cornwall and Ireland may know no more hatred,
but love only, learn that King Mark, my lord, will marry her. Here
stand a hundred knights of high name, who all will swear with an oath
upon the relics of the holy saints, that King Mark sends you by their
embassy offer of peace and of brotherhood and goodwill; and that he
would by your courtesy hold Iseult as his honoured wife, and that he
would have all the men of Cornwall serve her as their Queen.”
When the lords of Ireland heard this they acclaimed it, and the King
also was content.
Then, since that treaty and alliance was to be made, the King her
father took Iseult by the hand and asked of Tristan that he should
take an oath; to wit that he would lead her loyally to his lord, and
Tristan took that oath and swore it before the knights and the Barony
of Ireland assembled. Then the King put Iseult’s right hand into
Tristan’s right hand, and Tristan held it for a space in token of
seizin for the King of Cornwall.
So, for the love of King Mark, did Tristan conquer the Queen of the
Hair of Gold.
THE PHILTRE
When the day of Iseult’s livery to the Lords of Cornwall drew near,
her mother gathered herbs and flowers and roots and steeped them in
wine, and brewed a potion of might, and having done so, said apart to
Brangien:
“Child, it is yours to go with Iseult to King Mark’s country, for you
love her with a faithful love. Take then this pitcher and remember
well my words. Hide it so that no eye shall see nor no lip go near it:
but when the wedding night has come and that moment in which the
wedded are left alone, pour this essenced wine into a cup and offer it
to King Mark and to Iseult his queen. Oh! Take all care, my child,
that they alone shall taste this brew. For this is its power: they who
drink of it together love each other with their every single sense and
with their every thought, forever, in life and in death.”
And Brangien promised the Queen that she would do her bidding.
On the bark that bore her to Tintagel Iseult the Fair was weeping as
she remembered her own land, and mourning swelled her heart, and she
said, “Who am I that I should leave you to follow unknown men, my
mother and my land? Accursed be the sea that bears me, for rather
would I lie dead on the earth where I was born than live out there,
beyond. …
One day when the wind had fallen and the sails hung slack Tristan
dropped anchor by an Island and the hundred knights of Cornwall and
the sailors, weary of the sea, landed all. Iseult alone remained