TRISTAN AND ISEULT.
[Sidenote: Origin of the story.] The story of Tristan, which seems to have
been current from earliest times, refers, perhaps, to the adventures of a
knight, the contemporary of Arthur or of Cassivellaunus. The tale seems to
have already been known in the sixth century, and was soon seized upon by
the bards, who found it a rich theme for their metrical romances. It is
quite unknown whether it was first turned into Latin, French, or Welsh
verse; but an established fact is that it has been translated into every
European language, and was listened to with as much interest by the
inhabitants of Iceland as by those of the sunny plains of Greece.
We know that there are metrical versions, or remains of metrical versions,
attributed to Thomas of Ercildoune (the Rhymer), to Raoul de Beauvais,
Chrestien de Troyes, Rusticien de Pise, Luces de Cast, Robert and Hélie de
Borron, and Gottfried von Strassburg, and that in our day it has been
retold by Matthew Arnold and Swinburne, and made the subject of an opera by
Wagner. These old metrical versions, recited with manifold variations by
the minstrels, were finally collected into a prose romance, like most of
the mediaeval poems of this kind.
The outline of the story, collected from many different sources, is as
follows:
Meliadus (Rivalin, or Roland Rise) was Lord of Lyonesse (Ermonie, or
Parmenia), and after warring for some time against Morgan, he entered into
a seven-years' truce. This time of respite was employed by Meliadus in
visiting Mark, King of Cornwall, who dwelt at Tintagel, where he was
holding a great tournament. Many knights of tried valor hurried thither to
win laurels, but none were able to unhorse Meliadus, who obtained every
prize.
His courage was such that he even won the heart of Blanchefleur, the sister
of the king. As the monarch refused to consent to their union, the young
people were secretly married, or eloped, if we are to believe another
version of the story.
[Sidenote: Birth of Tristan.] According to the first account, Blanchefleur
remained at court, where, hearing that her husband had died, she breathed
her last in giving birth to a son, whom she called Tristan (Tristrem),
because he had come into the world under such sad circumstances. The second
version relates that Blanchefleur died as Morgan entered the castle over
her husband's dead body, and that her faithful retainer, Kurvenal (Rohand,
Rual), in order to save her son, claimed him as his own.
The child Tristan grew up without knowing his real parentage, learned all
that a knight was expected to know, and became especially expert as a
hunter and as a harp player. One day he strolled on board of a Norwegian
vessel which had anchored in the harbor near his ancestral home, and
accepted the challenge of the Norsemen to play a game of chess for a
certain wager.
As Tristan played at chess as well as upon the harp, he soon won the game;
but the Northmen, rather than pay their forfeited wager, suddenly raised
the anchor and sailed away, intending to sell the kidnaped youth as a
slave.
"Ther com a ship of Norway,
To Sir Rohandes hold,
With haukes white and grey,
And panes fair y-fold:
Tristrem herd it say,
On his playing he wold
Tventi schilling to lay,
Sir Rohand him told,
And taught;
For hauke silver he gold;
The fairest men him raught."
SCOTT, _Sir Tristrem_.
They had not gone far, however, before a terrible tempest arose, which
threatened to sink the vessel and drown all on board. The mariners,
supposing in their terror that this peril had come upon them because they
had acted dishonorably, made a solemn vow to liberate the youth if they
escaped.
The vow having been made, the wind ceased to blow; and anchoring in the
nearest bay, the Norsemen bade Tristan land, and paid him the sum he had
won at chess.
[Sidenote: Tristan in Cornwall.] Thus forsaken on an unknown shore, with
nothing but his harp and bow, Tristan wandered through an extensive forest,
where, coming across a party of huntsmen who had just slain a deer, he gave
them valuable and lengthy instructions in matters pertaining to the chase,
and taught them how to flay and divide their quarry according to the most
approved mediaeval style. Then, accompanying them to the court of their
master, King Mark, he charmed every one with his minstrelsy, and was
invited to tarry there as long as he pleased. His foster father, Kurvenal,
in the mean while, had set out to seek him; and in the course of his
wanderings he too came to Mark's court, where he was overjoyed to find
Tristan, whose parentage he revealed to the king.
Tristan now for the first time heard the story of his father's death, and
refused to rest until he had avenged him. He immediately set out, slew
Morgan, and recovered his father's estate of Lyonesse, which he intrusted
to Kurvenal's care, while he himself went back to Cornwall. On arriving at
Tintagel he was surprised to find all the court plunged in sorrow. Upon
inquiring the cause he was informed that Morold, brother of the King of
Ireland, had come to claim the usual tribute of three hundred pounds of
silver and tin and three hundred promising youths to be sold into slavery.
Indignant at this claim, which had been enforced ever since Mark had been
defeated in battle by the Irish king, Tristan boldly strode up to the
emissary, tore the treaty in two, flung the pieces in his face, and
challenged him to single combat. Morold, confident in his strength,--for he
was a giant,--and relying particularly upon his poisoned sword, immediately
accepted the challenge. When the usual preliminaries had been settled, the
battle began.
"Sir Morold rode upon his steed,
And flew against Tristan with speed
Still greater than is falcons' flight;
But warlike too was Tristan's might."
GOTTFRIED VON STRASSBURG (Dippold's tr.).
Terrible blows were given and received, and at last Tristan sank to the
ground on one knee, for his opponent's poisoned weapon had pierced his
side.
Morold then called upon him to acknowledge himself beaten, promising to
obtain a balsam from his sister Iseult (Isolde, Ysolde), who knew a remedy
for such a dangerous wound. But Tristan, remembering that, if he
surrendered, three hundred innocent children would be sold as slaves, made
a last despairing effort, and slew Morold. Such was the force of the blow
he dealt that he cut through the helmet and pierced Morold's skull, which
was so hard that a fragment of his sword remained imbedded within the
wound.
The people of Cornwall were, of course, delighted; and while the Irish
heralds returned empty-handed to Dublin with Morold's remains, the King of
Cornwall loudly proclaimed that as he had no son, Tristan should be his
heir.
[Sidenote: Tristan's wound.] Tristan, however, was far from happy, for the
wound in his side refused to heal, and gradually became so offensive that
no one could bear his presence. As none of the court doctors could relieve
him, he remembered Morold's words, and resolved to go to Ireland, in hopes
that Iseult would cure him. Conscious, however, that she would never
consent to help him if she suspected his identity, he embarked alone, or
with Kurvenal, in a small vessel, taking only his harp, and drifted toward
Ireland, where he arrived at the end of fifteen days. When he appeared at
court, Tristan declared that he was a wandering minstrel called Tantris,
and bespoke the kind offices of the queen, Iseult. Charmed by his music,
she hastened to cure him of the grievous wound from which he had suffered
so much.
Tristan, still unknown, remained at the Irish court for some time, spending
many hours with Iseult, the daughter and namesake of the queen, whom he
instructed daily in the art of music. After some months passed thus in
pleasant intercourse, Tristan returned to Cornwall, where he related to
Mark the story of his cure, and so extolled the beauty of young Iseult that
the king finally expressed a desire to marry her. By the advice of the
courtiers, who were jealous of Tristan, and who hoped that this mission
would cost him his life, the young hero was sent to Ireland with an
imposing retinue, to sue for the maiden's hand and to escort her safely to
Cornwall.
On landing in Dublin, Tristan immediately became aware that the people were
laboring under an unusual excitement. Upon questioning them he learned that
a terrible dragon had taken up its station near the city, that it was
devastating the country, and that the king had promised the hand of Iseult
to the man who would slay the monster. Tristan immediately concluded that
by killing the dragon he would have the best chance of successfully
carrying out his uncle's wishes, so he sallied forth alone to attack it.
"This dragon had two furious wings,
Each one upon each shoulder;
With a sting in his tayl as long as a flayl,
Which made him bolder and bolder.
"He had long claws, and in his jaws
Four and forty teeth of iron;
With a hide as tough as any buff
Which did him round environ."
_Dragon of Wantly_ (Old Ballad).
[Sidenote: Tristan and the dragon.] In spite of the fearful appearance of
this dragon, and of the volumes of fire and venom which it belched forth,
Tristan encountered it bravely, and finally slew it. Then, cutting out the
monster's tongue, he thrust it into his pocket, intending to produce it at
the right moment. He had gone only a few steps, however, when, exhausted by
his prolonged conflict, stunned by the poisonous fumes which he had
inhaled, and overcome by the close contact with the dragon's tongue, he
sank fainting to the ground. A few moments later the butler of the Irish
king rode up. He saw the dragon dead, with his conqueror lifeless beside
him, and quickly resolved to take advantage of this fortunate chance to
secure the hand of the fair princess. He therefore cut off the dragon's
head, and, going to court, boasted of having slain the monster just as it
had killed a strange knight. Iseult and her mother, well aware that the man
was a coward, refused to believe his story, and hastened off to the scene
of the conflict, where they found the fainting Tristan with the dragon's
tongue in his pocket.
To remove the poisonous substance, (which they, however, preserved,) convey
the knight to the palace, and restore him by tender care, was the next
impulse of these brave women. Then, while Iseult the younger sat beside her
patient, watching his slumbers, she idly drew his sword from the scabbard.
Suddenly her eye was caught by a dint in the blade, which she soon
discovered was of exactly the same shape and size as the fragment of steel
which she had found in her uncle's skull.
"Then all at once her heart grew cold
In thinking of that deed of old.
Her color changed through grief and ire
From deadly pale to glowing fire.
With sorrow she exclaimed: 'Alas!
Oh, woe! what has now come to pass?
Who carried here this weapon dread,
By which mine uncle was struck dead?
And he who slew him, Tristan hight.
Who gave it to this minstrel knight?'"
GOTTFRIED VON STRASSBURG (Dippold's tr.).
Morold's murderer lay helpless before her, and Iseult, animated by the
spirit of vengeance, which was considered a sacred duty among the people of
the time, was about to slay Tristan, when he opened his eyes and disarmed
her by a glance. Her mother further hindered her carrying out her hostile
intentions by telling her that Tristan had atoned for his crime by
delivering the people from the power of the dragon.
As soon as Tristan had quite recovered, he appeared at court, where he
offered to prove at the point of his sword that the butler had no claim to
the princess's hand. A duel was arranged, and the butler, disarmed by
Tristan, confessed his lie. Tristan then produced the dragon's tongue and
told his adventures; but, to the general surprise, instead of suing for
Iseult's hand for himself, he now asked it in the name of his uncle, King
Mark of Cornwall.
[Sidenote: The love potion.] The young princess was none too well pleased
at this unexpected turn of affairs; but, as princesses never had much to
say about the choice of a husband, she obediently prepared to accompany the
embassy to Tintagel. Her mother, wishing to preserve her from a loveless
marriage, now sought out all manner of herbs wherewith to brew one of those
magic love potions which were popularly supposed to have unlimited powers.
"Bethought her with her secret soul alone
To work some charm for marriage unison,
And strike the heart of Iseult to her lord
With power compulsive more than stroke of sword."
SWINBURNE, _Tristram of Lyonesse_.
This magic potion was put in a golden cup and intrusted to Brangwaine, the
attendant of Iseult, with strict injunctions to guard the secret well, and
to give the draught to her mistress and Mark to quaff together on their
wedding day.
"Therefore with marvelous herbs and spells she wrought
To win the very wonder of her thought,
And brewed it with her secret hands, and blest
And drew and gave out of her secret breast
To one her chosen and Iseult's handmaiden,
Brangwain, and bade her hide from sight of men
This marvel covered in a golden cup,
So covering in her heart the counsel up
As in the gold the wondrous wine lay close."
SWINBURNE, _Tristram of Lyonesse_.
Brangwaine carefully carried this potion on board the ship, and placed it
in a cupboard, whence she intended to produce it when the suitable moment
came. Iseult embarked with the escort sent from Cornwall, and Tristan, in
order to beguile the long, weary hours of the journey, entertained her with
all the songs and stories that he knew. One day, after singing for some
time, he asked his fair young mistress for a drink; and she, going to the
cupboard, drew out the magic potion, little guessing its power.
As was customary in those days in offering wine to an honored guest, she
first put it to her own lips and then handed it to the thirsty minstrel,
who drained it greedily. They had no sooner drunk, however, than the
draught, working with subtle power, suddenly kindled in their hearts a
passionate love, destined to last as long as they both lived.
"Now that the maiden and the man,
Fair Iseult and Tristan,
Both drank the drink, upon them pressed
What gives the world such sore unrest,--
Love, skilled in sly and prowling arts,--
And swiftly crept in both their hearts;
So, ere of him they were aware,
Stood his victorious banners there.
He drew them both into his power;
One and single were they that hour
That two and twofold were before."
GOTTFRIED VON STRASSBURG (Bayard Taylor's tr.).
After the first few hours of rapture had passed, the young people, who
honorably intended to keep their word and conquer the fatal passion which
had overwhelmed them, remained apart, and when Iseult landed in Cornwall
her marriage was celebrated with Mark. Brangwaine, who knew all that had
passed, tried to shield her mistress in every way, and blind the king, who
is depicted as a very unheroic monarch, but little fitted to secure the
affections of the proud young Iseult.
[Sidenote: Tristan and Iseult.] This story of a love potion whose magic
power none could resist, and of the undying love which it kindled in the
unsuspecting hearts of Tristan and Iseult, has been treated in many ways by
the different poets and prose writers who have handled it. In many of the
older versions we have lengthy descriptions of stolen interviews,
hairbreadth escapes, and tests of love, truth, and fidelity without number.
In many respects the story is a parallel of that of Lancelot and Guinevere,
although it contains some incidents which are duplicated in the
"Nibelungenlied" only. But throughout, the writers all aver that, owing to
the magic draught, the lovers, however good their intentions, could not
long exist without seeing each other.
By means of this boundless love Tristan is said to have had an intuitive
knowledge of Iseult's peril, for he hastened to rescue her from danger
whenever events took a turn which might prove fatal to her. There are in
some of these old romances pretty descriptions of scenery and of the
signals used by the lovers to communicate with each other when forced by
adverse circumstances to remain apart. One of the poems, for instance, says
that Tristan's love messages were written on chips of wood, which he
floated down the little stream which flowed past his sylvan lodge and
crossed the garden of the queen.
[Sidenote: Meliadus.] The inevitable villain of the tale is one of Mark's
squires, the spy Meliadus, also a very unheroic character, who told the
king of Tristan's love for Iseult. Mark, who all through the story seems
strangely indifferent to his beautiful wife, was not aware of the magic
draught and its powerful effect, but Meliadus roused him temporarily from
his apathy.
[Illustration: ISEULT SIGNALS TRISTAN.--Pixis.]
As the queen had been publicly accused, he compelled her to prove her
innocence by undergoing the ordeal of fire, or by taking a public oath that
she had shown favor to none but him. On her way to the place where this
ceremony was to take place, Iseult was carried across a stream by Tristan
disguised as a beggar, and, at his request, kissed him in reward for this
service.
When called upon to take her oath before the judges and assembled court,
Iseult could truthfully swear that, with the exception of the beggar whom
she had just publicly kissed, no other man than the king could ever boast
of having received any special mark of her favor.
Thus made aware of their danger, the lovers again decided to part, and
Tristan, deprived for a time of the sight of Iseult, went mad, and
performed many extraordinary feats; for mediaeval poets generally drove
their heroes into a frenzy when they did not know what else to do with
them. Having recovered, and hoping to forget the fatal passion which had
already caused him so much sorrow, Tristan now wandered off to Arthur's
court, where he performed many deeds of valor. Thence he went on to various
strange lands, distinguishing himself greatly everywhere, until he received
from a poisoned arrow a wound which no doctor could heal.
[Sidenote: Iseult of Brittany.] Afraid to expose himself again to the
fascinations of Iseult of Cornwall, Tristan went to Brittany, where another
Iseult,--with the White Hands,--equally well skilled in medicine, tenderly
nursed him back to health. This maiden, as good and gentle as she was
beautiful, soon fell in love with the handsome knight, and hearing him sing
a passionate lay in honor of Iseult, she fancied that her affections were
returned, and that it was intended for her ear.
"I know her by her mildness rare,
Her snow-white hands, her golden hair;
I know her by her rich silk dress,
And her fragile loveliness,--
The sweetest Christian soul alive,
Iseult of Brittany."
MATTHEW ARNOLD, _Tristram and Iseult_.
The brother of this fair Iseult saw her love for Tristan, and offered him
her hand, which he accepted more out of gratitude than love, and in the
hope that he might at last overcome the effects of the fatal draught. But,
in spite of all his good resolutions, he could not forget Iseult of
Cornwall, and treated his wife with such polite coolness that her brother's
suspicions were finally roused.
Tristan, having conquered a neighboring giant and magician by the name of
Beliagog, had granted him his life only upon condition that he would build
a marvelous palace in the forest, and adorn it with paintings and
sculptures, true to life, and representing all the different stages of his
passion for Iseult of Cornwall. When his brother-in-law, therefore, asked
why he seemed to find no pleasure in the society of his young wife, Tristan
led him to the palace, showed him the works of art, and told him all.
Ganhardin, the brother-in-law, must evidently have considered the excuse a
good one, for he not only forgave Tristan, but implored him to take him to
Cornwall, for he had fallen in love with the picture of Brangwaine, and
hoped to win her for wife. On the way thither the young knights met with
sundry adventures, delivered Arthur from the power of the Lady of the Lake,
and carried off Iseult, whom the cowardly Mark was ill treating, to
Lancelot's castle of Joyeuse Garde. There she became acquainted with
Guinevere, and remained with her until Arthur brought about a general
reconciliation.
Then Tristan once more returned to Brittany, resumed his wonted knightly
existence, and fought until he was wounded so sorely that Iseult of
Brittany could not cure him. His faithful steward Kurvenal, hoping yet to
save him, sailed for Cornwall to bring the other Iseult to the rescue; and
as he left he promised his master to change the black sails of the vessel
for white in case his quest were successful.
Tristan now watched impatiently for the returning sail, but just as it came
into view he breathed his last. Some ill-advised writers have ventured to
state that Iseult of Brittany, whose jealousy had been aroused, was guilty
of Tristan's death by falsely averring, in answer to his feverish inquiry,
that the long-expected vessel was wafted along by black sails; but,
according to other authorities, she remained gentle and lovable to the end.
[Sidenote: Miracle of the plants.] Iseult of Cornwall, speeding to the
rescue of her lover, whom nothing could make her forget, and finding him
dead, breathed her last upon his corpse. Both bodies were then carried to
Cornwall, where they were interred in separate graves by order of King
Mark. But from the tomb of the dead minstrel there soon sprang a creeper,
which, finding its way along the walls, descended into Iseult's grave.
Thrice cut down by Mark's orders, the plant persisted in growing, thus
emphasizing by a miracle the passionate love which made this couple
proverbial in the middle ages. There are in subsequent literature many
parallels of the miracle of the plant which sprang from Tristan's tomb, as
is seen by the Ballad of Lord Thomas and Fair Annet, and of Lord Lovel,
where, as in later versions of the Tristan legend, a rose and a vine grew
out of the respective graves and twined tenderly around each other.
"And out of her breast there grew a red rose,
And out of his breast a brier."
_Ballad of Lord Lovel_.