IV: HOW SIR TRISTRAM KEPT HIS WORD
In the days when King Arthur had established his kingdom, he was called Emperor of Britain and its three islands. Nevertheless, there were kings who were rulers in their own lands, but they held their sovereignty of Arthur and had done homage to him and sworn fealty. In Wales there were two kings, in the north were eleven kings, and these he had conquered in a great battle by Sherwood Forest; in Cornwall were two kings, and in Ireland three kings, but all gave service to the great King Arthur.
That part of Cornwall which was called the lands of Tintagel formed the kingdom of a prince named Mark, and he owed certain yearly tribute or truage to King Anguish of South Ireland. It befell one day that King Anguish sent a messenger, who came to King Mark as he sat in hall, and said:
"Sir king, my master bids me say that the truage which you owe unto him is unpaid for seven years past, and if it be not paid he will demand of you double the sum."
Now King Mark was a man of a mean and covetous mind, and he loved not to give money. Therefore, to put off the payment for a little while, he made answer thus:
"Tell your master that we will pay him no truage; and if your lord says he will have it, let him send a trusty knight of his land that will fight for his right, and we will find another to do battle with him."
When King Anguish heard the message he was wondrous wroth, and called into him the brother of his queen, Sir Marhaus, a good knight of prowess nobly proved, and, besides, a knight of the Round Table. The king craved of him to go and do battle for the truage due from Mark of Cornwall.
"Sir," said Sir Marhaus, "I will gladly go and do battle for you on this saucy king or his knight. I ween ye shall have your truage to the last groat, for I fear not the best knight of the Round Table, unless it be Sir Lancelot, and I doubt not King Mark hath no knight of such worth and prowess as I."
So in all haste Sir Marhaus set forth in a ship, and in a little while cast anchor fast by the shore where, on two high cliffs, the castle of Tintagel frowned upon the sea. When King Mark understood that so noble a knight as Sir Marhaus had come to do battle for the truage, he was full of sorrow, and wept as he looked upon the bags of gold in his treasure-chest. He knew of no knight of his court that durst face Sir Marhaus, and he feared much that he would have to part with his gold.
Daily Sir Marhaus sent a message up to the castle gate, demanding payment of the truage, or that a knight should come forth to do battle against him.
Then King Mark let make a proclamation through all the lands, that if a knight would fight to save the truage of Cornwall he should fare the better as long as he liveed. But the days and weeks went by and no knight came forward. Then Sir Marhaus sent at the last a message which said, that if within a day and a night a champion for King Mark came not forward, he should depart.
All that day King Mark was sore and ill of mind and haggard of face and could never stay still, but was for ever faring with his barons to where he could look down upon the ship of Sir Marhaus, and see the knight waiting in his armour.
Late in the afternoon, as the king stood thus, gnawing his nails for rage, and so hot and wrathful that none of his barons dare speak to him, there came two horsemen riding swiftly into the courtyard of the castle, and at the sound of their horses' feet King Mark turned eagerly.
A young squire was the foremost rider, and he was a youth full handsome and tall, with brown curly hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in a surcoat of red satin and a mantle of crimson, trimmed with gold; and on his head was a cap of rich purple, and his feet and legs were clad in fine leather, with gold bosses on his shoes. Alighting easily, he doffed his hat and came towards the king.
"Sir," said he, "if ye will give me the order of knighthood, I shall do battle to the uttermost with Sir Marhaus of Ireland."
King Mark looked the young man up and down, and saw that though he was young of age, yet he was passing well made of body, with broad shoulders and of big limbs. The heart of King Mark became light.
"Fair son," he said, and his barons marvelled at his soft words, "what are ye and whence come ye?"
"Sir," said the youth, " I come from King Talloch, Prince of Lyones, and I am a gentleman's son."
"And your name and birthplace - what are they?"
"My name is Tristram, sir, and I was born in Lyones."
"Young sir," said the king, "I like your manner, and I think ye should be a good man of your hands. Therefore will I make you knight if ye will fight with Sir Marhaus."
"That is why I have come," said Tristram.
Eagerly the king bade a baron give him his sword, and commanded Tristram to kneel, and then and there he tapped his shoulder with the flat of the sword and bade him rise, "Sir Tristram of Lyones."
The king commanded his scrivener to come to him, and on the low wall overlooking the sea the man of inkhorn and goosequill laid his parchment, and wrote a letter to Sir Marhaus at the king's dictation, saying that a knight would battle with him in the morning. A messenger was sent therewith without delay, and the king went into supper, snapping his fingers and joking with his barons in great glee.
But in the midst of supper a parchment was brought to the king and his face fell, and he commanded the new-made knight to come from his seat and stand before him.
"Hark ye," he said, his face dark, " this prideful Sir Marhaus, waiting so long, hath made his terms the harder. I fear, good fellow, your knighthood hath been earned of me too easily, even if ye are not in league with this pesky Irish knight," he went on, his narrow eyes gleaming with suspicion. "He sayeth now that he will not fight with any knight unless he be of blood royal on his mother's side or father's. Say, are ye some starveling knight's brat, or what are ye?"
Sir Tristram's face went hard and his eyes flashed.
"No starveling's brat am I, king," he said, "unless ye are that thyself."
"What mean you? Have a care of your saucy tongue."
"I fear thee not," laughed Sir Tristram, "but this I would have you know. I am thy nephew, son of thy sister Elizabeth, who died in the forest, and of King Talloch of Lyones."
At these words the king rose from his seat and embraced Sir Tristram, crying:
"Now, in the name of Heaven, thou art right heartily welcome unto me, dear nephew."
That evening he made great cheer of Sir Tristram, and had his bed made next to his own in his own royal chamber. On the morrow the king had Sir Tristram horsed and armed in the best manner. Then he sent a trumpeter down to the seashore, and let Sir Marhaus know that a better born man than he was himself would fight with him, and that his name was Sir Tristram of Lyones, son of the king of Lyones and his queen Elizabeth, King Mark's sister. Sir Marhaus was right blithe that he should have to do with such a gentleman.
Then it was ordained that the two knights should battle on a little island near the ship of Sir Marhaus, and so young Sir Tristram and his squire were rowed thereunto, and when he departed, King Mark and his barons and all the common people were rejoiced to see the young knight's noble and high bearing, and wished him God-speed.
When Sir Tristram landed he saw Sir Marhaus waiting armed in the shadow of his ship. Sir Tristram's squire brought his master's horse to land, and clad his master in his armour as was right, and then the young knight mounted upon his horse and rode towards Sir Marhaus.
While he was as yet six spear-lengths from him the knight of the Round Table cried unto him:
"Young knight, Sir Tristram, what doest thou here? I grieve me of thy courage, for ye are untried, while I have been well essayed in jousts and tournaments with some of the best men of their hands as are now living. I counsel thee to go back."
"Fair and well-proved knight," said Sir Tristram, "I am for thy sake made knight, and I have promised to fight thee, and I will do so, as much for mine uncle's sake as for what worship I may win from doing battle with ye, who are one of the best renowned knights of the world."
"Then I would have ye know, fair sir," said Sir Marhaus, "that no worship shalt thou lose if thou canst only stand against three strokes of mine, for, by reason of my noble deeds, seen and proved, King Arthur made me knight of the Round Table."
Sir Tristram answered him naught, and then they dressed their spears and spurred their horses, and ran so fiercely each against the other that both were smitten to the ground, both horses and men. But Sir Marhaus had struck a great wound in the side of Sir Tristram, yet so eager was the young knight that he knew not of it. They leaped up and avoided their horses, and drew out their swords, and with shield on arm they lashed at each other like fierce wild boars. Yet for all Sir Marhaus' strong and bitter strokes he could not beat down the young knight's guard, and in despite he began to aim at his vizor and his neck. At this Sir Tristram was wroth, and struck him more furiously. Thus for two hours the battle waged, and both were sore wounded. But Sir Tristram was the fresher and better winded and bigger of limb and reach; and suddenly he heaved his sword up high, and closing upon Sir Marhaus he smote him with so mighty a buffet upon his helm that the blade shore through the steel even into the brain-pan.
So fierce had been the stroke that the sword stuck fast in the bone and the helmet, and Sir Tristram pulled thrice at his sword before it would loosen. Sir Marhaus sank to his knees with a deathly groan; then he threw away his sword and shield, and rising, staggered away towards his ship. Sir Tristram swooned and fell; and his squire came running to him, just as the men of Sir Marhaus' ship came and drew their master on board. Then they swiftly set their sail and flew over the sea.
Great was the mourning of the barons and the people of Cornwall when it 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 ship-men 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.
