Chapter 2

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
aboard and a little serving maid, when Tristan came near the Queen to
calm her sorrow. The sun was hot above them and they were athirst and,
as they called, the little maid looked about for drink for them and
found that pitcher which the mother of Iseult had given into
Brangien’s keeping. And when she came on it, the child cried, “I have
found you wine!” Now she had found not wine — but Passion and Joy most
sharp, and Anguish without end, and Death.

The Queen drank deep of that draught and gave it to Tristan and he
drank also long and emptied it all.

Brangien came in upon them; she saw them gazing at each other in
silence as though ravished and apart; she saw before them the pitcher
standing there; she snatched it up and cast it into the shuddering sea
and cried aloud: “Cursed be the day I was born and cursed the day that
first I trod this deck. Iseult, my friend, and Tristan, you, you have
drunk death together.”

And once more the bark ran free for Tintagel. But it seemed to Tristan
as though an ardent briar, sharp-thorned but with flower most sweet
smelling, drave roots into his blood and laced the lovely body of
Iseult all round about it and bound it to his own and to his every
thought and desire. And he thought, “Felons, that charged me with
coveting King Mark’s land, I have come lower by far, for it is not his
land I covet. Fair uncle, who loved me orphaned ere ever you knew in
me the blood of your sister Blanchefleur, you that wept as you bore me
to that boat alone, why did you not drive out the boy that was to
betray you? Ah! What thought was that! Iseult is yours and I am but
your vassal; Iseult is yours and I am your son; Iseult is yours and
may not love me.”

But Iseult loved him, though she would have hated. She could not hate,
for a tenderness more sharp than hatred tore her.

And Brangien watched them in anguish, suffering more cruelly because
she alone knew the depth of evil done.

Two days she watched them, seeing them refuse all food or comfort and
seeking each other as blind men seek, wretched apart and together more
wretched still, for then they trembled each for the first avowal.

On the third day, as Tristan neared the tent on deck where Iseult sat,
she saw him coming and she said to him, very humbly, “Come in, my
lord.”

“Queen,” said Tristan, “why do you call me lord? Am I not your liege
and vassal, to revere and serve and cherish you as my lady and Queen?”

But Iseult answered, “No, you know that you are my lord and my master,
and I your slave. Ah, why did I not sharpen those wounds of the
wounded singer, or let die that dragon-slayer in the grasses of the
marsh? But then I did not know what now I know!”

“And what is it that you know, Iseult?”

She laid her arm upon Tristan’s shoulder, the light of her eyes was
drowned and her lips trembled.

“The love of you,” she said. Whereat he put his lips to hers.

But as they thus tasted their first joy, Brangien, that watched them,
stretched her arms and cried at their feet in tears:

“Stay and return if still you can … But oh! that path has no
returning. For already Love and his strength drag you on and now
henceforth forever never shall you know joy without pain again. The
wine possesses you, the draught your mother gave me, the draught the
King alone should have drunk with you: but that old Enemy has tricked
us, all us three; friend Tristan, Iseult my friend, for that bad ward
I kept take here my body and my life, for through me and in that cup
you have drunk not love alone, but love and death together.”

The lovers held each other; life and desire trembled through their
youth, and Tristan said, “Well then, come Death.”

And as evening fell, upon the bark that heeled and ran to King Mark’s
land, they gave themselves up utterly to love.

THE TALL PINE-TREE

As King Mark came down to greet Iseult upon the shore, Tristan took
her hand and led her to the King and the King took seizin of her,
taking her hand. He led her in great pomp to his castle of Tintagel,
and as she came in hall amid the vassals her beauty shone so that the
walls were lit as they are lit at dawn. Then King Mark blessed those
swallows which, by happy courtesy, had brought the Hair of Gold, and
Tristan also he blessed, and the hundred knights who, on that
adventurous bark, had gone to find him joy of heart and of eyes; yet
to him also that ship was to bring sting, torment and mourning.

And on the eighteenth day, having called his Barony together he took
Iseult to wife. But on the wedding night, to save her friend, Brangien
took her place in the darkness, for her remorse demanded even this
from her; nor was the trick discovered.

Then Iseult lived as a queen, but lived in sadness. She had King
Mark’s tenderness and the barons’ honour; the people also loved her;
she passed her days amid the frescoes on the walls and floors all
strewn with flowers; good jewels had she and purple cloth and tapestry
of Hungary and Thessaly too, and songs of harpers, and curtains upon
which were worked leopards and eagles and popinjays and all the beasts
of sea and field. And her love too she had, love high and splendid,
for as is the custom among great lords, Tristan could ever be near
her. At his leisure and his dalliance, night and day: for he slept in
the King’s chamber as great lords do, among the lieges and the
councillors. Yet still she feared; for though her love were secret and
Tristan unsuspected (for who suspects a son?) Brangien knew. And
Brangien seemed in the Queen’s mind like a witness spying; for
Brangien alone knew what manner of life she led, and held her at mercy
so. And the Queen thought Ah, if some day she should weary of serving
as a slave the bed where once she passed for Queen … If Tristan should
die from her betrayal! So fear maddened the Queen, but not in truth
the fear of Brangien who was loyal; her own heart bred the fear.

Not Brangien who was faithful, not Brangien, but themselves had these
lovers to fear, for hearts so stricken will lose their vigilance. Love
pressed them hard, as thirst presses the dying stag to the stream;
love dropped upon them from high heaven, as a hawk slipped after long
hunger falls right upon the bird. And love will not be hidden.
Brangien indeed by her prudence saved them well, nor ever were the
Queen and her lover unguarded. But in every hour and place every man
could see Love terrible, that rode them, and could see in these lovers
their every sense overflowing like new wine working in the vat.

The four felons at court who had hated Tristan of old for his prowess,
watched the Queen; they had guessed that great love, and they burnt
with envy and hatred and now a kind of evil joy. They planned to give
news of their watching to the King, to see his tenderness turned to
fury, Tristan thrust out or slain, and the Queen in torment; for
though they feared Tristan their hatred mastered their fear; and, on a
day, the four barons called King Mark to parley, and Andret said:

“Fair King, your heart will be troubled and we four also mourn; yet
are we bound to tell you what we know. You have placed your trust in
Tristan and Tristan would shame you. In vain we warned you. For the
love of one man you have mocked ties of blood and all your Barony.
Learn then that Tristan loves the Queen; it is truth proved and many a
word is passing on it now.”

The royal King shrank and answered:

“Coward! What thought was that? Indeed I have placed my trust in
Tristan. And rightly, for on the day when the Morholt offered combat
to you all, you hung your heads and were dumb, and you trembled before
him; but Tristan dared him for the honour of this land, and took
mortal wounds. Therefore do you hate him, and therefore do I cherish
him beyond thee, Andret, and beyond any other; but what then have you
seen or heard or known?”

“Naught, lord, save what your eyes could see or your ears hear. Look
you and listen, Sire, if there is yet time.”

And they left him to taste the poison.

Then King Mark watched the Queen and Tristan; but Brangien noting it
warned them both and the King watched in vain, so that, soon wearying
of an ignoble task, but knowing (alas!) that he could not kill his
uneasy thought, he sent for Tristan and said:

“Tristan, leave this castle; and having left it, remain apart and do
not think to return to it, and do not repass its moat or boundaries.
Felons have charged you with an awful treason, but ask me nothing; I
could not speak their words without shame to us both, and for your
part seek you no word to appease. I have not believed them … had I
done so … But their evil words have troubled all my soul and only by
your absence can my disquiet be soothed. Go, doubtless I will soon
recall you. Go, my son, you are still dear to me.

When the felons heard the news they said among themselves, “He is
gone, the wizard; he is driven out. Surely he will cross the sea on
far adventures to carry his traitor service to some distant King.”

But Tristan had not strength to depart altogether; and when he had
crossed the moats and boundaries of the Castle he knew he could go no
further. He stayed in Tintagel town and lodged with Gorvenal in a
burgess’ house, and languished oh! more wounded than when in that past
day the shaft of the Morholt had tainted his body.

In the close towers Iseult the Fair drooped also, but more wretched
still. For it was hers all day long to feign laughter and all night
long to conquer fever and despair. And all night as she lay by King
Mark’s side, fever still kept her waking, and she stared at darkness.
She longed to fly to Tristan and she dreamt dreams of running to the
gates and of finding there sharp scythes, traps of the felons, that
cut her tender knees; and she dreamt of weakness and falling, and that
her wounds had left her blood upon the ground. Now these lovers would
have died, but Brangien succoured them. At peril of her life she found
the house where Tristan lay. There Gorvenal opened to her very gladly,
knowing what salvation she could bring.

So she found Tristan, and to save the lovers she taught him a device,
nor was ever known a more subtle ruse of love.

Behind the castle of Tintagel was an orchard fenced around and wide
and all closed in with stout and pointed stakes and numberless trees
were there and fruit on them, birds and clusters of sweet grapes. And
furthest from the castle, by the stakes of the pallisade, was a tall
pine-tree, straight and with heavy branches spreading from its trunk.
At its root a living spring welled calm into a marble round, then ran
between two borders winding, throughout the orchard and so, on, till
it flowed at last within the castle and through the women’s rooms.

And every evening, by Brangien’s counsel, Tristan cut him twigs and
bark, leapt the sharp stakes and, having come beneath the pine, threw
them into the clear spring; they floated light as foam down the stream
to the women’s rooms; and Iseult watched for their coming, and on
those evenings she would wander out into the orchard and find her
friend. Lithe and in fear would she come, watching at every step for
what might lurk in the trees observing, foes or the felons whom she
knew, till she spied Tristan; and the night and the branches of the
pine protected them.

And so she said one night: “Oh, Tristan, I have heard that the castle
is faëry and that twice a year it vanishes away. So is it vanished now
and this is that enchanted orchard of which the harpers sing.” And as
she said it, the sentinels bugled dawn.

Iseult had refound her joy. Mark’s thought of ill-ease grew faint; but
the felons felt or knew which way lay truth, and they guessed that
Tristan had met the Queen. Till at last Duke Andret (whom God shame)
said to his peers:

“My lords, let us take counsel of Frocin the Dwarf; for he knows the
seven arts, and magic and every kind of charm. He will teach us if he
will the wiles of Iseult the Fair.”

The little evil man drew signs for them and characters of sorcery; he
cast the fortunes of the hour and then at last he said:

“Sirs, high good lords, this night shall you seize them both.”

Then they led the little wizard to the King, and he said:

“Sire, bid your huntsmen leash the hounds and saddle the horses,
proclaim a seven days’ hunt in the forest and seven nights abroad
therein, and hang me high if you do not hear this night what converse
Tristan holds.”

So did the King unwillingly; and at fall of night he left the hunt
taking the dwarf in pillion, and entered the orchard, and the dwarf
took him to the tall pine-tree, saying:

“Fair King, climb into these branches and take with you your arrows
and your bow, for you may need them; and bide you still.”

That night the moon shone clear. Hid in the branches the King saw his
nephew leap the pallisades and throw his bark and twigs into the
stream. But Tristan had bent over the round well to throw them and so
doing had seen the image of the King. He could not stop the branches
as they floated away, and there, yonder, in the women’s rooms, Iseult
was watching and would come.

She came, and Tristan watched her motionless. Above him in the tree he
heard the click of the arrow when it fits the string.

She came, but with more prudence than her wont, thinking, “What has
passed, that Tristan does not come to meet me? He has seen some foe.”

Suddenly, by the clear moonshine, she also saw the King’s shadow in
the fount. She showed the wit of women well, she did not lift her
eyes.

“Lord God,” she said, low down, grant I may be the first to speak.”

“Tristan,” she said, “what have you dared to do, calling me hither at
such an hour? Often have you called me —to beseech, you said. And
Queen though I am, I know you won me that title—and I have come. What
would you?”

“Queen, I would have you pray the King for me.”

She was in tears and trembling, but Tristan praised God the Lord who
had shown his friend her peril.

“Queen,” he went on, “often and in vain have I summoned you; never
would you come. Take pity; the King hates me and I know not why.
Perhaps you know the cause and can charm his anger. For whom can he
trust if not you, chaste Queen and courteous, Iseult?”

“Truly, Lord Tristan, you do not know he doubts us both. And I, to add
to my shame, must acquaint you of it. Ah! but God knows if I lie,
never went cut my love to any man but he that first received me. And
would you have me, at such a time, implore your pardon of the King?
Why, did he know of my passage here to-night he would cast my ashes to
the wind. My body trembles and I am afraid. I go, for I have waited
too long.”

In the branches the King smiled and had pity.

And as Iseult fled: “Queen,” said Tristan, “in the Lord’s name help
me, for charity.”

“Friend,” she replied, “God aid you! The King wrongs you but the Lord
God will be by you in whatever land you go.”

So she went back to the women’s rooms and told it to Brangien, who
cried: “Iseult, God has worked a miracle for you, for He is
compassionate and will not hurt the innocent in heart.”

And when he had left the orchard, the King said smiling:

“Fair nephew, that ride you planned is over now.”

But in an open glade apart, Frocin, the Dwarf, read in the clear stars
that the King now meant his death; he blackened with shame and fear
and fled into Wales.

THE DISCOVERY

King Mark made peace with Tristan. Tristan returned to the castle as
of old. Tristan slept in the King’s chamber with his peers. He could
come or go, the King thought no more of it.

Mark had pardoned the felons, and as the seneschal, Dinas of Lidan,
found the dwarf wandering in a forest abandoned, he brought him home,
and the King had pity and pardoned even him.

But his goodness did but feed the ire of the barons, who swore this
oath: If the King kept Tristan in the land they would withdraw to
their strongholds as for war, and they called the King to parley.

“Lord,” said they, “Drive you Tristan forth. He loves the Queen as all
who choose can see, but as for us we will bear it no longer.”

And the King sighed, looking down in silence.

“ King,” they went on, “we will not bear it, for we know now that this
is known to you and that yet you will not move. Parley you, and take
counsel. As for us if you will not exile this man, your nephew, and
drive him forth out of your land forever, we will withdraw within our
Bailiwicks and take our neighbours also from your court: for we cannot
endure his presence longer in this place. Such is your balance:
choose.”

“My lords,” said he, “once I hearkened to the evil words you spoke of
Tristan, yet was I wrong in the end. But you are my lieges and I would
not lose the service of my men. Counsel me therefore, I charge you,
you that owe me counsel. You know me for a man neither proud nor
overstepping.”

“Lord,” said they, “call then Frocin hither. You mistrust him for that
orchard night. Still, was it not he that read in the stars of the
Queen’s coming there and to the very pine-tree too? He is very wise,
take counsel of him.”

And he came, did that hunchback of Hell: the felons greeted him and he
planned this evil.