The Romance of Tristan and Iseult
him, and broke his staff and his head together, and pushed his body
into the pitfall with his feet.
On the appointed day King Mark and Iseult, and the barons of Cornwall,
stood by the river; and the knights of Arthur and all their host were
arrayed beyond.
And just before them, sitting on the shore, was a poor pilgrim,
wrapped in cloak and hood, who held his wooden platter and begged
alms.
Now as the Cornish boats came to the shoal of the further bank, Iseult
said to the knights:
“My lords, how shall I land without befouling my clothes in the
river-mud? Fetch me a ferryman.”
And one of the knights hailed the pilgrim, and said:
“Friend, truss your coat, and try the water; carry you the Queen to
shore, unless you fear the burden.”
But as he took the Queen in his arms she whispered to him:
“Friend.”
And then she whispered to him, lower still
“Stumble you upon the sand.”
And as he touched shore, he stumbled, holding the Queen in his arms;
and the squires and boatmen with their oars and boat-hooks drove the
poor pilgrim away.
But the Queen said:
“Let him be; some great travail and journey has weakened him.”
And she threw to the pilgrim a little clasp of gold.
Before the tent of King Arthur was spread a rich Nicean cloth upon the
grass, and the holy relics were set on it, taken out of their covers
and their shrines.
And round the holy relics on the sward stood a guard more than a
king’s guard, for Lord Gawain, Girflet, and Kay the Seneschal kept
ward over them.
The Queen having prayed God, took off the jewels from her neck and
hands, and gave them to the beggars around; she took off her purple
mantle, and her overdress, and her shoes with their precious stones,
and gave them also to the poor that loved her.
She kept upon her only the sleeveless tunic, and then with arms and
feet quite bare she came between the two kings, and all around the
barons watched her in silence, and some wept, for near the holy relics
was a brazier burning.
And trembling a little she stretched her right hand towards the bones
and said: “Kings of Logres and of Cornwall; my lords Gawain, and Kay,
and Girflet, and all of you that are my warrantors, by these holy
things and all the holy things of earth, I swear that no man has held
me in his arms saving King Mark, my lord, and that poor pilgrim. King
Mark, will that oath stand?”
“Yes, Queen,” he said, “and God see to it.
“Amen,” said Iseult, and then she went near the brazier, pale and
stumbling, and all were silent. The iron was red, but she thrust her
bare arms among the coals and seized it, and bearing it took nine
steps.
Then, as she cast it from her, she stretched her arms out in a cross,
with the palms of her hands wide open, and all men saw them fresh and
clean and cold. Seeing that great sight the kings and the barons and
the people stood for a moment silent, then they stirred together and
they praised God loudly all around.
PART THE THIRD
THE LITTLE FAIRY BELL
When Tristan had come back to Orri’s hut, and had loosened his heavy
pilgrim’s cape, he saw clearly in his heart that it was time to keep
his oath to King Mark and to fly the land.
Three days yet he tarried, because he could not drag himself away from
that earth, but on the fourth day he thanked the woodman, and said to
Gorvenal:
“Master, the hour is come.”
And he went into Wales, into the land of the great Duke Gilain, who
was young, powerful, and frank in spirit, and welcomed him nobly as a
God-sent guest.
And he did everything to give him honour and joy; but he found that
neither adventure, nor feast could soothe what Tristan suffered.
One day, as he sat by the young Duke’s side, his spirit weighed upon
him, so that not knowing it he groaned, and the Duke, to soothe him,
ordered into his private room a fairy thing, which pleased his eyes
when he was sad and relieved his own heart; it was a dog, and the
varlets brought it in to him, and they put it upon a table there. Now
this dog was a fairy dog, and came from the Duke of Avalon; for a
fairy had given it him as a love-gift, and no one can well describe
its kind or beauty. And it bore at its neck, hung to a little chain of
gold, a little bell; and that tinkled so gaily, and so clear and so
soft, that as Tristan heard it, he was soothed, and his anguish melted
away, and he forgot all that he had suffered for the Queen; for such
was the virtue of the bell and such its property: that whosoever heard
it, he lost all pain. And as Tristan stroked the little fairy thing,
the dog that took away his sorrow, he saw how delicate it was and
fine, and how it had soft hair like samite, and he thought how good a
gift it would make for the Queen. But he dared not ask for it right
out since he knew that the Duke loved this dog beyond everything in
the world, and would yield it to no prayers, nor to wealth, nor to
wile; so one day Tristan having made a plan in his mind said this:
“Lord, what would you give to the man who could rid your land of the
hairy giant Urgan, that levies such a toll?”
“Truly, the victor might choose what he would, but none will dare.”
Then said Tristan:
“Those are strange words, for good comes to no land save by risk and
daring, and not for all the gold of Milan would I renounce my desire
to find him in his wood and bring him down.”
Then Tristan went out to find Urgan in his lair, and they fought hard
and long, till courage conquered strength, and Tristan, having cut off
the giant’s hand, bore it back to the Duke.
And “Sire,” said he, “since I may choose a reward according to your
word, give me the little fairy dog. It was for that I conquered Urgan,
and your promise stands.”
“Friend,” said the Duke, “take it, then, but in taking it you take
away also all my joy.”
Then Tristan took the little fairy dog and gave it in ward to a Welsh
harper, who was cunning and who bore it to Cornwall till he came to
Tintagel, and having come there put it secretly into Brangien’s hands,
and the Queen was so pleased that she gave ten marks of gold to the
harper, but she put it about that the Queen of Ireland, her mother,
had sent the beast. And she had a goldsmith work a little kennel for
him, all jewelled, and incrusted with gold and enamel inlaid; and
wherever she went she carried the dog with her in memory of her
friend, and as she watched it sadness and anguish and regrets melted
out of her heart.
At first she did not guess the marvel, but thought her consolation was
because the gift was Tristan’s, till one day she found that it was
fairy, and that it was the little bell that charmed her soul; then she
thought: “What have I to do with comfort since he is sorrowing? He
could have kept it too and have forgotten his sorrow; but with high
courtesy he sent it to me to give me his joy and to take up his pain
again. Friend, while you suffer, so long will I suffer also.”
And she took the magic bell and shook it just a little, and then by
the open window she threw it into the sea.
ISEULT OF THE WHITE HANDS
Apart the lovers could neither live nor die, for it was life and death
together; and Tristan fled his sorrow through seas and islands and
many lands.
He fled his sorrow still by seas and islands, till at last he came
back to his land of Lyonesse, and there Rohalt, the keeper of faith,
welcomed him with happy tears and called him son. But he could not
live in the peace of his own land, and he turned again and rode
through kingdoms and through baronies, seeking adventure. From the
Lyonesse to the Lowlands, from the Lowlands on to the Germanies;
through the Germanies and into Spain. And many lords he served, and
many deeds did, but for two years no news came to him out of Cornwall,
nor friend, nor messenger. Then he thought that Iseult had forgotten.
Now it happened one day that, riding with Gorvenal alone, he came into
the land of Brittany. They rode through a wasted plain of ruined walls
and empty hamlets and burnt fields everywhere, and the earth deserted
of men; and Tristan thought:
“I am weary, and my deeds profit me nothing; my lady is far off and I
shall never see her again. Or why for two years has she made no sign,
or why has she sent no messenger to find me as I wandered? But in
Tintagel Mark honours her and she gives him joy, and that little fairy
bell has done a thorough work; for little she remembers or cares for
the joys and the mourning of old, little for me, as I wander in this
desert place. I, too, will forget.”
On the third day, at the hour of noon, Tristan and Gorvenal came near
a hill where an old chantry stood and close by a hermitage also; and
Tristan asked what wasted land that was, and the hermit answered:
“Lord, it is Breton land which Duke Hod holds, and once it was rich in
pasture and ploughland, but Count Riol of Nantes has wasted it. For
you must know that this Count Riol was the Duke’s vassal. And the Duke
has a daughter, fair among all King’s daughters, and Count Riol would
have taken her to wife; but her father refused her to a vassal, and
Count Riol would have carried her away by force. Many men have died in
that quarrel.”
And Tristan asked:
“Can the Duke wage his war?”
And the hermit answered:
“Hardly, my lord; yet his last keep of Carhaix holds out still, for
the walls are strong, and strong is the heart of the Duke’s son
Kaherdin, a very good knight and bold; but the enemy surrounds them on
every side and starves them. Very hardly do they hold their castle.”
Then Tristan asked:
“How far is this keep of Carhaix?”
“Sir,” said the hermit, “it is but two miles further on this way.”
Then Tristan and Gorvenal lay down, for it was evening.
In the morning, when they had slept, and when the hermit had chanted,
and had shared his black bread with them, Tristan thanked him and rode
hard to Carhaix. And as he halted beneath the fast high walls, he saw
a little company of men behind the battlements, and he asked if the
Duke were there with his son Kaherdin. Now Hod was among them; and
when he cried “yes,” Tristan called up to him and said:
“I am that Tristan, King of Lyonesse, and Mark of Cornwall is my
uncle. I have heard that your vassals do you a wrong, and I have come
to offer you my arms.
“Alas, lord Tristan, go you your way alone and God reward you, for
here within we have no more food; no wheat, or meat, or any stores but
only lentils and a little oats remaining.”
But Tristan said
“For two years I dwelt in a forest, eating nothing save roots and
herbs; yet I found it a good life, so open you the door.”
They welcomed him with honour, and Kaherdin showed him the wall and
the dungeon keep with all their devices, and from the battlements he
showed the plain where far away gleamed the tents of Duke Riol. And
when they were down in the castle again he said to Tristan:
“Friend, let us go to the hall where my mother and sister sit.”
So, holding each other’s hands, they came into the women’s room, where
the mother and the daughter sat together weaving gold upon English
cloth and singing a weaving song. They sang of Doette the fair who
sits alone beneath the white-thorn, and round about her blows the
wind. She waits for Doon, her friend, but he tarries long and does not
come. This was the song they sang. And Tristan bowed to them, and they
to him. Then Kaherdin, showing the work his mother did, said:
“See, friend Tristan, what a work-woman is here, and how marvellously
she adorns stoles and chasubles for the poor minsters, and how my
sister’s hands run thread of gold upon this cloth. Of right, good
sister, are you called, ‘Iseult of the White Hands.’”
But Tristan, hearing her name, smiled and looked at her more gently.
And on the morrow, Tristan, Kaherdin, and twelve young knights left