THE ROUND TABLE
THE famous enchanter, Merlin, had exerted all his skill in fabricating
the Round Table. Of the seats which surrounded it he had constructed
thirteen, in memory of the thirteen Apostles. Twelve of these seats only
could be occupied, and they only by knights of the highest fame; the
thirteenth represented the seat of the traitor Judas. It remained always
empty. It was called the _perilous seat_, ever since a rash and haughty
Saracen knight had dared to place himself in it, when the earth opened
and swallowed him up.
“In our great hall there stood a vacant chair,
Fashion’d by Merlin ere he past away,
And carven with strange figures; and in and out
The figures, like a serpent, ran a scroll
Of letters in a tongue no man could read.
And Merlin call’d it ‘The Siege perilous,’
Perilous for good and ill; ‘for there,’ he said,
‘No man could sit but he should lose himself.’”
—_The Holy Grail._
A magic power wrote upon each seat the name of the knight who was
entitled to sit in it. No one could succeed to a vacant seat unless he
surpassed in valor and glorious deeds the knight who had occupied it
before him; without this qualification he would be violently repelled by
a hidden force. Thus proof was made of all those who presented
themselves to replace any companions of the order who had fallen.
One of the principal seats, that of Moraunt of Ireland, had been vacant
ten years, and his name still remained over it ever since the time when
that distinguished champion fell beneath the sword of Sir Tristram.
Arthur now took Tristram by the hand and led him to that seat.
Immediately the most melodious sounds were heard, and exquisite perfumes
filled the place; the name of Moraunt disappeared, and that of Tristram
blazed forth in light. The rare modesty of Tristram had now to be
subjected to a severe task; for the clerks charged with the duty of
preserving the annals of the Round Table attended, and he was required
by the law of his order to declare what feats of arms he had
accomplished to entitle him to take that seat. This ceremony being
ended, Tristram received the congratulations of all his companions. Sir
Launcelot and Guenever took the occasion to speak to him of the fair
Isoude, and to express their wish that some happy chance might bring her
to the kingdom of Loegria.
While Tristram was thus honored and caressed at the court of King
Arthur, the most gloomy and malignant jealousy harassed the soul of
Mark. He could not look upon Isoude without remembering that she loved
Tristram, and the good fortune of his nephew goaded him to thoughts of
vengeance. He at last resolved to go disguised into the kingdom of
Loegria, attack Tristram by stealth, and put him to death. He took with
him two knights, brought up in his court, who he thought were devoted to
him; and, not willing to leave Isoude behind, named two of her maidens
to attend her, together with her faithful Brengwain, and made them
accompany him.
Having arrived in the neighborhood of Camelot, Mark imparted his plan to
his two knights, but they rejected it with horror; nay, more, they
declared that they would no longer remain in his service; and left him,
giving him reason to suppose that they should repair to the court to
accuse him before Arthur. It was necessary for Mark to meet and rebut
their accusation; so, leaving Isoude in an abbey, he pursued his way
alone to Camelot.
Mark had not ridden far when he encountered a party of knights of
Arthur’s court, and would have avoided them, for he knew their habit of
challenging to a just every stranger knight whom they met. But it was
too late. They had seen his armor, and recognized him as a Cornish
knight, and at once resolved to have some sport with him. It happened
they had with them Daguenet, King Arthur’s fool, who, though deformed
and weak of body, was not wanting in courage. The knights as Mark
approached laid their plan that Daguenet should personate Sir Launcelot
of the Lake, and challenge the Cornish knight. They equipped him in
armor belonging to one of their number who was ill, and sent him forward
to the cross-road to defy the strange knight. Mark, who saw that his
antagonist was by no means formidable in appearance, was not disinclined
to the combat; but when the dwarf rode towards him, calling out that he
was Sir Launcelot of the Lake, his fears prevailed, he put spurs to his
horse, and rode away at full speed, pursued by the shouts and laughter
of the party.
Meanwhile Isoude, remaining at the abbey with her faithful Brengwain,
found her only amusement in walking occasionally in a forest adjoining
the abbey. There, on the brink of a fountain girdled with trees, she
thought of her love, and sometimes joined her voice and her harp in lays
reviving the memory of its pains or pleasures. One day the caitiff
knight, Breuse the Pitiless, heard her voice, concealed himself, and
drew near. She sang:
“Sweet silence, shadowy bower, and verdant lair,
Ye court my troubled spirit to repose,
Whilst I, such dear remembrance rises there,
Awaken every echo with my woes.
“Within these woods, by nature’s hand arrayed,
A fountain springs, and feeds a thousand flowers;
Ah! how my groans do all its murmurs aid!
How my sad eyes do swell it with their showers!
“What doth my knight the while? to him is given
A double meed; in love and arms’ emprise,
Him the Round Table elevates to heaven!
Tristram! ah me! he hears not Isoude’s cries.”
Breuse the Pitiless, who like most other caitiffs had felt the weight of
Tristram’s arm, and hated him accordingly, at hearing his name breathed
forth by the beautiful songstress, impelled by a double impulse, rushed
forth from his concealment and laid hands on his victim. Isoude fainted,
and Brengwain filled the air with her shrieks. Breuse carried Isoude to
the place where he had left his horse; but the animal had got away from
his bridle, and was at some distance. He was obliged to lay down his
fair burden, and go in pursuit of his horse. Just then a knight came up,
drawn by the cries of Brengwain, and demanded the cause of her distress.
She could not speak, but pointed to her mistress lying insensible on the
ground.
Breuse had by this time returned, and the cries of Brengwain, renewed at
seeing him, sufficiently showed the stranger the cause of the distress.
Tristram spurred his horse towards Breuse, who, not unprepared, ran to
the encounter. Breuse was unhorsed, and lay motionless, pretending to be
dead; but when the stranger knight left him to attend to the distressed
damsels, he mounted his horse, and made his escape.
The knight now approached Isoude, gently raised her head, drew aside the
golden hair which covered her countenance, gazed thereon for an instant,
uttered a cry, and fell back insensible. Brengwain came; her cares soon
restored her mistress to life, and they then turned their attention to
the fallen warrior. They raised his visor, and discovered the
countenance of Sir Tristram. Isoude threw herself on the body of her
lover, and bedewed his face with her tears. Their warmth revived the
knight, and Tristram on awaking found himself in the arms of his dear
Isoude.
It was the law of the Round Table that each knight after his admission
should pass the next ten days in quest of adventures, during which time
his companions might meet him in disguised armor and try their strength
with him. Tristram had now been out seven days, and in that time had
encountered many of the best knights of the Round Table, and acquitted
himself with honor. During the remaining three days, Isoude remained at
the abbey, under his protection, and then set out with her maidens,
escorted by Sir Tristram, to rejoin King Mark at the court of Camelot.
This happy journey was one of the brightest epochs in the lives of
Tristram and Isoude. He celebrated it by a lay upon the harp in a
peculiar measure, to which the French give the name of _Triolet_.
“With fair Isoude, and with love,
Ah! how sweet the life I lead!
How blest for ever thus to rove,
With fair Isoude, and with love!
As she wills, I live and move,
And cloudless days to days succeed:
With fair Isoude, and with love,
Ah! how sweet the life I lead!
“Journeying on from break of day,
Feel you not fatigued, my fair?
Yon green turf invites to play;
Journeying on from day to day,
Ah! let us to that shade away,
Were it but to slumber there!
Journeying on from break of day,
Feel you not fatigued, my fair?”
They arrived at Camelot, where Sir Launcelot received them most
cordially. Isoude was introduced to King Arthur and Queen Guenever, who
welcomed her as a sister. As King Mark was held in arrest under the
accusation of the two Cornish knights, Queen Isoude could not rejoin her
husband, and Sir Launcelot placed his castle of La Joyeuse Garde at the
disposal of his friends, who there took up their abode.
King Mark, who found himself obliged to confess the truth of the charge
against him, or to clear himself by combat with his accusers, preferred
the former, and King Arthur, as his crime had not been perpetrated,
remitted the penalty, only enjoining upon him, under pain of his signal
displeasure, to lay aside all thoughts of vengeance against his nephew.
In the presence of the king and his court all parties were formally
reconciled; Mark and his queen departed for their home, and Tristram
remained at Arthur’s court.
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