was known how deep and wide was the wound which Tristram had received
from the lance of Sir Marhaus. Many famous leeches came and searched
the wound and strove to close it, but none availed. When two months had
passed, came an old, old woman, a witch wise in leechcraft beyond all
others, who was called the Mother of the Mists, and who lived in the
Great Shuddering Moor, where only trolls dwelled, and no man ever dared
to go. She also came and searched his wound at the king's desire.
When she had made her search, with many mumblings and strange words,
she turned and looked keenly at the king. Her eyes gleamed like beads,
her skin was wrinkled and dark, and she laughed a little soft laugh.
'Lord king,' she said, 'this fine man's wound is poisoned, and naught
can heal it this side the great water. But if he goeth whither the
spear came from which poisoned it, he shall get whole of that wound.'
''Tis well,' said the king, 'he shall be sent to Ireland.'
'Ay, ay, ay,' said the old woman, and laughed in Sir Tristram's face.
'Thou shalt be healed, fair chief, but the hand that shall heal thee
shall give thee a deeper wound--a wound that shall never be healed this
side o' thy grave.'
Forthwith King Mark let a fair ship be purveyed and well stored with
necessary victuals, and Sir Tristram was carried thereto and laid on
his couch on the deck, and Governale, his faithful squire, went with
him. In the sunshine and the brisk wind Sir Tristram felt joyful, and
the merry waves slapped the sides of the ship full prettily as it
cleaved through the blue seas towards the west.
In the evening they saw the white cliffs and the brown rocks of
Ireland, and Sir Tristram took his harp and played thereon, for he had
learned to harp most featly in France, where he had lived seven years,
to learn all manner of courtly and noble pastimes. Soon the shipmen
cast anchor in a wide sheltered cove beneath a castle which stood on a
high rock beside a fair town.
Sir Tristram asked the master of the ship the name of that town.
'Cro-na-Shee, if it please you, my lord,' said the master.
'It pleases me well,' said Tristram; 'it should mean that there dwell
therein brave and noble knights, and damsels like unto fairies.'
Out of the merriness of his heart he thrummed his harp with so blithe
and strange a tune that in a little while the very folk upon the shore
came listening, and some began to dance, while others looked sad. For
though the tune was very merry, there was sadness also peeping from it.
It happened that King Anguish and his court were in that castle by the
sea, and a handmaiden of the queen came to where they sat and told them
of the knight that sat in his ship and harped so strange a lay that it
made one glad and sorry at the same time.
Then King Anguish sent a knight and begged the harper to take cheer
with him, and Sir Tristram was brought in a litter, and all the damsels
were sad at his sickness, and the knights sorrowed that a knight so
noble-looking should be so wounded. King Anguish asked him who he was
and how he came by his wound. And Sir Tristram, having learned that
this was the King of Ireland, whose champion he had worsted in the
battle, and thinking that his own name would be known, replied:
'I am of the country of Lyones, and my name is Sir Tramor, and my wound
was got in battle, as I fought for a lady's right.'
'I pity thee, sir knight,' said the king, who was a right noble king
and lovable, 'and by Heaven's aid, ye shall have all the help in this
country that ye may need.'
The king told him of the battle which Sir Marhaus had had on his behalf
with a knight named Sir Tristram, and how Sir Marhaus had come home
wounded unto death, and was dead this two months. On which Sir Tristram
feigned to be sorry, but said not much thereon.
Then did the king order his daughter to come before him. She was called
La Belle Isoude, for that she was the most lovely damsel in all Ireland
and the Out-Isles, and withal gentle and kind; and her father bade her
tend and minister to this stranger knight, who had come to Ireland to
heal him of his wound.
In a few weeks, so soft was she of her hands and so learned in
leechcraft, she had cleaned Tristram's wound of all poison and he was
hale and strong again. As some reward he taught her to harp, and gave
her many good and costly presents. These she took, but valued them not
so much as his kind words and smiles. More and more she loved to hear
his voice, and when he was gone out hawking or looking at jousts she
was sad and thoughtful, sitting with her fair hands in her lap and her
eyes looking far away, and when she heard his step or his voice in the
hall, then would her sad eyes light up, and a merry tune would hum upon
her lips, and she would gaily talk with her handmaidens, who,
whispering and glancing and nodding to each other as they sat about her
at their spinning frames, knew of her love for Sir Tristram before she
was aware of it herself.
Sir Tristram cared not overmuch to be with ladies, but was more joyful
to be in hall, talking of hunting, jousting and hawking. All men
regarded him highly for his great knowledge of these things, but as
yet, for fear of hurting his wound which was but freshly healed, La
Belle Isoude forbade him gently to take violent exercise. Sir Tristram
was impatient to be in the saddle again, with lance in rest and his
great charger leaping beneath him.
Now, to the court of King Anguish there had lately come a knight named
Sir Palomides, famed for his knightly deeds, though still a pagan, and
he was well favoured both of King Anguish and his queen. Sir Palomides
came and made great court to La Belle Isoude, and proffered her many
gifts, for he loved her passing well. Indeed, for her sake he declared
he would be christened and become a Christian knight; but La Belle
Isoude had no care for him, and avoided him as well as she might.
On a certain day King Anguish made a great cry that a joust and
tournament would be held, wherein only unmarried knights should join,
and the prize would be a fair lady called the Lady of the Laundes, near
cousin to the king. The heralds further said that he who should win her
should marry her three days after, and have all her lands with her.
This cry was made in all Ireland and Wales, and in Logres and Alban,
which are now called England and Scotland.
It befell the same day that La Belle Isoude came to Sir Tristram, and
she seemed distressed of mind and as if she had wept secretly.
'Sir Tramor,' she said, 'this tournament shall exalt Sir Palomides
beyond all other knights, unless a better do come forward and overcome
him.'
'Fair lady,' said Sir Tristram, 'Sir Palomides may well win the prize
against any knight, except it be Sir Lancelot. But if ye think I am fit
to joust I will e'en essay it. Yet he is a proved knight, and I but a
young one and but lately ill; and my first battle that I fought, it
mishapped me to be sore wounded. Yet I will essay it, for I love not
this Sir Palomides.'
'Ah, but I know thou wilt do well in the battle, and thou shalt have
all my prayers for thy safety and success,' said La Belle Isoude.
On the first day of the jousts Sir Palomides came with a black shield,
and he was a knight big of his body and on a great horse. He overthrew
many knights and put them to the worst, among them being many of the
knights of the Round Table, as Sir Gawaine and his brother Sir Gaheris,
Sir Agravaine, Sir Kay, Sir Sagramore le Desirous, Sir Owen, who had
been the little page-boy who had saved King Arthur's life in his hall
at Caerleon, and three other knights. All these he struck down, and the
others were adread of him. The people had great marvel, and acclaimed
him with much worship as the victor of the first day.
The next day he came and smote down King Morgant, the pagan King of
Scotland, as also the Duke of Cambenet. Then, as he rode up and down
the lists proudly flourishing his lance, dressing his shield and
waiting for the other knights to offer themselves to him, he was aware
of a knight all in white armour, with vizor closed, riding quickly
through the gate as if he came from the seashore.
The stranger knight came with swiftness, lifting his lance in token of
challenge. Whereat Sir Palomides rode to the other end of the lists,
dressed his lance, and together they put their horses in motion. Like
two bulls the knights thundered against each other in the centre of the
lists. The white knight's lance hit the shield of Sir Palomides full in
the centre, and with the shock the pagan knight was lifted from his
saddle, carried beyond his horse, and fell with a great thud to the
ground, while his horse careered onward riderless.
Sir Gawaine and his fellows marvelled who this stranger knight might
be. Then Sir Palomides, rising from the ground, caught his horse, and
full of shame, would have slunk from the field. But the white knight
rode after him and bade him turn, 'for,' said the stranger, 'he would
better prove him with the sword.'
Then, alighting, they lashed at each other with their swords. Now Sir
Palomides was a powerful man, and his strokes were passing heavy, but
Sir Tristram, for the stranger knight was he, felt so full of strength
and joy after his long leisure, that he played with Sir Palomides, and
men wondered at the might of his blows, and his swiftness was a marvel
to see. In a while, with a great buffet on the head of the pagan
knight, Sir Tristram felled him to the earth.
'Now yield thee,' said the white knight sternly, 'and do my command, or
I will slay thee of a surety.'
Sir Palomides was sore adread, and promised.
'Swear me this,' said the stranger, 'that upon pain of thy life thou
leave my lady La Belle Isoude, and come not unto her ever again, and
for a year and a day thou shalt bear no armour. Promise me this, or
here shalt thou die!'
'I swear it,' said Sir Palomides, 'but I am for ever shamed.'
In his rage Sir Palomides cut off his armour and threw it from him and
fled away on his horse.
Then the white knight also went away, and none knew who he was. The
king sent after him, to tell him he was the winner of the lady, whom he
should wed, but the messengers could not find him. Men marvelled much
at this, that the victor knight should not come to claim the rich lady
for his wife with the wide lands that went with her.
When Sir Tristram returned to the private postern where La Belle Isoude
had led him forth secretly, he found her standing breathless, and she
was pale and red by turns, and could not speak at first.
'Thou--thou hast not failed?' she said, and clasped her hands.
'Nay,' said Sir Tristram, laughing. 'He will never trouble you again.
And, by Our Lady, I wished there had been six of him, for I never felt
more full of fight and strength than I do this day.'
'But--but have ye not claimed the prize?' said La Belle Isoude, and hid
her face that was so deathly white.
'Nay, nor will I,' said Sir Tristram, 'for I crave not to be married. I
would be free and go forth into strange lands to seek adventures.'
He went from her, with the tune of a hunting song upon his lips, and
saw not how La Belle Isoude trembled against the wall and was near to
swoon.
For La Belle Isoude herself was the Lady of the Laundes who should be
given to the victor, though this was known to none but herself and the
king and queen.
The king and queen and all the court marvelled who should be the
stranger knight, and why he had departed, and some suspected Sir
Tristram, but none knew of this except La Belle Isoude and Governale
his squire, and none dared charge him therewith. La Belle Isoude kept
her counsel, and strove to seem lighthearted.
It fell upon a day that Sir Tristram was disporting himself with other
knights at a game of ball upon the green before the castle, and had
left his sword hung upon the post beside his seat in hall. The queen,
with La Belle Isoude, passed through the hall to go to see the men at
their sport, and on her way she espied Sir Tristram's sword, and the
strange device of a serpent which was upon the handle. She said it was
a marvellous piece of work, and never had she seen the like of it.
Then, by ill hap, she drew the sword from the scabbard, and they both
admired it a long time, looking at its keenness and brightness and the
words of mystery engraved on it.
Suddenly the queen gave a little cry as of terror, and she pointed to
where, within a foot and a half of the point, there was a piece broken
out of the edge. Then, very hastily, the queen ran with the sword into
her bower, and from her treasure-chest she drew a casket, and from the
casket she drew a tiny piece of doeskin, and from that she took a
fragment of steel.
While her daughter marvelled what it all might mean, the queen took the
piece of steel and placed it in the broken part of Sir Tristram's
sword, and it fitted so that the break could hardly be seen.
'Alas!' said the queen, 'this is the piece of sword that the leech took
from the brain of my brother, Sir Marhaus, and this Sir Tramor is the
traitorous knight that slew him!'
The heart of La Belle Isoude stood still for fear of the ill that would
befall Sir Tristram, for she knew her mother's rage.
The queen caught up the sword fiercely in her hand and rushed from the
room. Midway through the hall there met her Sir Tristram himself with
his squire Governale, and the queen sped to him and would have run him
through, but for Governale, who snatched the sword from her, though she
wounded him in her wrath.
Finding her rage thus put to naught, she ran to King Anguish, and threw
herself on her knees before him, crying out:
'Oh, my lord and husband, here have ye in your house that traitor
knight that slew my brother and your champion, that noble knight, Sir
Marhaus. It is Sir Tramor, as he falsely calleth himself, but the piece
of steel that was taken from my brother's brain fits a notch in his
sword.'
'Alas,' cried King Anguish, 'then am I right heavy, for he is as full
noble a knight as ever I knew; and I charge ye, have not to do with
him, but let me deal in this matter.'
The king went to Sir Tristram and found him fully armed, as if ready to
fight for his life, for he knew that now the truth had been discovered.
'Nay, Sir Tramor,' said the king gravely, 'it will not avail thee to
fight me. But this will I do for the love and honour I bear thee.
Inasmuch as ye are within my court it would be no worship for me to
have thee taken and slain, and therefore will I let thee freely depart
if thou wilt tell me this: Who is thy father and what is thy name? And
didst thou truly and rightly slay Sir Marhaus?'
'Tristram is my name,' replied the young knight, 'and I am son of King
Talloch of Lyones. For the truage of Cornwall I fought for the sake of
my uncle King Mark, and the battle with Sir Marhaus was the first I
had, for I was made knight for that alone. Sir Marhaus went from me
alive into his ship, though he left his sword and shield behind him.'
'I may not say that ye have done aught but what a good knight should
do,' replied the king, 'but I may not maintain you in this country
unless I would displease my wife and her kin.'
'Sir,' said Sir Tristram, 'I thank you for your goodness and for the
kind cheer which I have had here of yourself and your queen and La
Belle Isoude. I will depart straightway when I have bidden your
daughter farewell, for I owe my life to her gentle hands; and I promise
this, that I will be your daughter's servant and knight in right or
wrong, to shield her and fight for her, and do all that a knight may do
in her behalf, as long as I live.'
Then took he his leave of La Belle Isoude, and he told her all how he
had come to that land. He thanked her heartily for all her gentleness
to him and for her healing of his wound. At first she stood silent,
changing red and white of face, and with downcast eyes, her fingers
straining about each other. When he swore that he would be her knight,
to fight for her whenever she should send for him, and bade her
good-bye, she took the hand which he held forth, but would not look at
him.
Tristram wondered why her fair hand was so cold. 'Good-bye and God be
with ye always,' La Belle Isoude replied in a faint voice, and then
turned and went from him. Tristram thought she was angered with him for
the slaying of her uncle.
So in a little while he rode forth with Governale down to the seashore
and looked back not once. There he entered by a ship, and with good
wind he arrived at Tintagel in Cornwall, and King Mark and all his
barons were glad that Tristram was whole again.
Then Sir Tristram went to his father King Talloch, and there was made
great cheer for him, and wide lands were given him. Nevertheless, he
could not rest long in one place, but went into Logres and Alban and
Wales, seeking adventures, and his fame for prowess was almost as great
as the fame of Sir Lancelot. Whereever he went he took his harp, and in
hall and bower his favourite songs were those that praised the beauty
of La Belle Isoude, her gentle ways and her soft white hands.
After a year and a day he returned to the court of King Mark and lived
there, and all the knights and ladies admired him, and the praise of
his courtesy was in the mouths of all, noble and simple, high and low.
Then King Mark his uncle began to hate him for the love that all bore
him, and since he had never married and had no son to whom his kingdom
should go after his death, he saw that Sir Tristram would have it, for
he was his next kin, and then, with Lyones and Tintagel, the fame and
power of Tristram would increase abundantly.
So the king began to cast about in his mind for a way whereby he might
do some hurt to Sir Tristram, or even destroy him.
He called the young knight to him one day and said:
'Dear nephew, I have been thinking a long while of taking unto myself a
wife, and I hear much of the beauty and goodness of the king's daughter
of Ireland, whom men call La Belle Isoude. Now I would that you go to
the king and bear my message to him.'
Sir Tristram was troubled in mind at these words. Since he had left La
Belle Isoude he had had no ease of spirit, for now he knew that he
loved her. Though she had been angered with him for his slaying her
uncle, and he knew that the queen and other kinsfolk of Sir Marhaus
would surely slay him if they could, yet had he hoped in a while to
have gone to King Anguish and found some way to win Isoude for his
wife.
'Ye are feared to go, then?' sneered King Mark, noting the silence of
Sir Tristram. 'Then I will e'en send some other knight that is bolder.'
At that Sir Tristram flushed hotly and said:
'I fear not to go there or anywhere, and I will bear thy message, sir.'
'It is well,' said the king. 'I will send thee with a fine ship, and a
rich company of knights, and I will get my scrivener to write my
message.'
Now King Mark said all this by reason of his craft and treachery. He
had heard how Sir Tristram had been full of the praises of La Belle
Isoude, while yet, as he had learned, Sir Tristram had not promised
himself in love to her. By his crafty speech King Mark had hoped to
make Sir Tristram promise to go to Ireland to obtain her, not for
himself, but for King Mark. So, therefore, if the king married La Belle
Isoude, this would cause some grief and hurt to Sir Tristram.
But King Mark cared not overmuch whether he wedded La Belle Isoude or
not. He believed that Sir Tristram would of a surety be slain by the
kin of Sir Marhaus in Ireland, and, if so, King Mark's plot would
succeed to the full.
Sir Tristram, sad and troubled, went apart, and rode into a forest, for
now he knew that he had done himself an ill turn. The lady he loved and
whom he wanted to wife for himself he had now promised to woo for
another.
As he rode moodily through the forest drive, a knight came swiftly
riding on a great horse, its flanks flecked with the foam of its speed.
'Fair knight,' said the stranger, 'will ye of your courtesy tell me
where I may quickly come at a knight called Sir Tristram of Lyones?'
'I am he,' said Tristram. 'What would ye?'
'I thank Heaven that hath led me to you, sir knight,' said the other.
'Here is a message from my master, King Anguish of Ireland, who is in
dire peril of honour and life, and craves aid of you for the love that
hath been atween you.'
Sir Tristram, much marvelling, took the parchment and read: 'These to
you, Sir Tristram of Lyones, most noble knight, from his lover and
friend King Anguish of Ireland, in sore trouble and straits at Camelot.
Know ye, Sir Tristram, that I have been summoned to King Arthur's court
on pain of forfeiture of his lordship's royal grace, to answer a charge
whereof I knew naught till I came here. Which is that by treason and
felony I caused to be slain at my court in Ireland a cousin of Sir
Bleobaris de Ganis and Sir Blamor de Ganis, and of this evil deed these
knights do most falsely accuse me. And there is none other remedy than
for me to answer them in knightly fashion, my armed body against
theirs. But inasmuch as I am old, and my wasted arm could naught avail
me, and in that they are of such renown and prowess that none of my
knights may hope to overcome them, I pray ye, Sir Tristram, of your
ancient love for me, to come to my aid and fight for me as my champion
in this most cruel charge. But if ye will not, and if ye choose to
remember rather that I thrust you from my court, and would not protect
you against those that meant you ill, then forgive my request, and
leave me to my fate and my dishonour.'
The heart of Sir Tristram lifted within him for love of the good old
king, and turning, he said:
'For what day is the trial by combat which your master speaketh of?'
'For midday on the day before next Sabbath,' said the knight.
'Go ye at once to your master,' said Sir Tristram, 'and say to him that
I will not fail him, but will make all speed.'
'Sir, I thank you from my heart,' said the knight, and bowed. Then
wheeling his horse he dashed swiftly away.
At Camelot, on the day and hour appointed, the lists were set, and
knights and nobles and the common people waited to see the trial by
battle which should prove the innocence or guilt of King Anguish. King
Arthur was not at Camelot, nor was Sir Lancelot, for both were at
Joyous Gard, the castle of Sir Lancelot, which King Arthur had given to
him by the sea in the Northern Marches. In their places, King Kador of
Cornwall and King Uriens of Reged were judges at the trial.
Ere noon was marked by the gnomon of the dial set up before the judges,
Sir Tristram and his squire Governale rode up the lists, and were met
by King Anguish and his knights. When Sir Tristram saw the King of
Ireland he got swiftly from his horse and ran towards him, and would
have held his stirrup; but the king leapt lightly from his horse, and
with bright looks each embraced and kissed the other.
'My good lord,' cried Tristram, 'gramercy of your goodness which ye
showed me in your marches, and of your nobleness in calling me unto
your aid, for it is great honour to me that ye ask this, and I will do
all for you to the utmost of my strength.'
'Ah, worshipful knight,' said the king, 'ye are courteous and noble
beyond all others to come to my aid when I am in such dire need.'
'Who is he that is appointed to fight with you or your champion?' asked
Sir Tristram.
'He is of Sir Lancelot's blood,' replied the king, 'and I wot that he
will be hard to overcome, for all those of King Ban's kin are passing
good fighters beyond all others. It is Sir Blamor de Ganis, a great
warrior.'
'Sir,' said Sir Tristram, 'for the great goodness that ye showed to me
in Ireland and for your daughter's sake, La Belle Isoude, I will take
the battle in hand for you. But ye must first swear that ye never
caused or consented to the death of the knight of which you are
charged, and if I avail in your battle I will crave a boon of you which
you shall grant me.'
'I swear to Heaven,' replied the king, 'that I did neither cause nor
consent to the death of the knight; and as to the boon that ye shall
ask, I grant it you already.'
Then King Anguish departed to the judges and cried unto them the name
of his champion, and all the knights of the Round Table that were
there, and the common people, were all agog to see Sir Tristram. The
fame of his fight with Sir Marhaus, and his renown as a harpist and a
lover of hunting, were well known unto all; but never yet had he come
to the court of King Arthur.
Sir Blamor and Sir Tristram went to each end of the lists and dressed
their harness and their shields. Sir Bleobaris, that was brother to Sir
Blamor, went to him and said:
'Brother, now remember of what kin ye be, and what manner of man is our
lord, Sir Lancelot, and see that ye suffer not shame. For never would
Sir Lancelot bear it, and he would sooner suffer death.'