When the day drew near the fair Isolde told Tristram of the tournament, and expressed a warm desire that he would take part in it.
"Fair lady," he answered, "I am as yet but feeble, and only for your generous care might be dead. I should be glad to obey any wish of yours, but you know that I am not in condition for the lists."
"Ah, Tramtrist," she replied, "I trust that you may be able to take part in this friendly joust. Palamides will be there, and I hoped that you would meet him, for I fear that otherwise he will not find his equal."
"You do me great honor," he replied. "You forget that I am but a young knight, and that in the only battle I have fought I was wounded nearly unto death. But for the love I have for you I shall attend the tournament, and jeopard my poor person for your sake, if you will only keep my counsel and let no person know that I have entered the lists."
"That shall I," she replied, gladly. "Horse and armor shall be ready for you, and I but ask you to do your best. I am sure your best must win."
"With Isolde's eyes upon me I can do no less," answered Tristram, with a glad heart. "I am at your command in all things, and for your love would dare tenfold this risk."
When the day of the tournament came, Palamides appeared in the lists with a black shield, and so many knights fell before him that all the people marvelled at his prowess. Throughout the first day's fight he held his own against all comers, bearing off the honors of the lists. As for Tristram, he sat among the spectators, and when King Anguish asked him why he did not joust, replied that he was still too weak from his wound.
On the morning of the next day Palamides came early into the field, and began the same career of conquest as on the day before. But in the midst of his good fortune there rode into the lists an unknown knight, who seemed to the spectators like an angel, for his horse and his armor were of the whiteness of snow.
No sooner had Palamides espied this stranger than he put his spear in rest and rode against him at furious speed. But there came a sudden change in his fortunes, for the white knight struck him with such force as to hurl him from his horse to the ground.
Then there arose a great noise and uproar among the people, for they had grown to think that no knight could face the Saracen, and Gawaine and others whom he had overthrown marvelled who this stranger knight could be. But Isolde was glad at heart, for the love of Palamides was a burden to her, and well she knew the knight of the white arms.
As for the Palamides, he was so ashamed and disconcerted by his fall that, on mounting his horse again, he sought privately to withdraw from the field. But the white knight rode hastily after him and bade him turn, saying that he should not leave the lists so lightly. At these words Palamides turned and struck a fierce sword-blow at the white champion. But the latter put the stroke aside, and returned it with so mighty a buffet on the Saracen's head that he fell from his horse to the earth.
Then Tristram—for he was the white knight—bade him yield and consent to do his command, or he would slay him. To this Palamides agreed, for he was hurt past defence.
"This, then, is my command," said Tristram. "First, upon pain of your life, you shall cease your suit of the lady La Belle Isolde, and come not near her. Second, for a year and a day you shall wear no armor or weapons of war. Promise me this, or you shall die."
"This is a bitter penance," cried Palamides. "You shame me before the world. For nothing less than life would I consent."
But he took the oath as Tristram commanded, and then in anger and despite threw off his armor and cut it into pieces, flinging the fragments away. Then he departed, weighed down with sadness and shame.
This done, Tristram left the lists, where he could find no knight willing to fight with him, and rode to the private postern of the castle whence he had come to the field. Here he found the fair Isolde awaiting him with a joyous face and a voice of thanks, praising him so highly that the knight was abashed with modest shame, though gladness filled his heart. And when she had told the king and queen that it was Tramtrist who had vanquished the Saracen, they treated him as if he had been of royal blood, for he had shown such prowess as Lancelot himself could not exceed.
After this Tristram dwelt long in the castle, highly esteemed by the king and queen, and loved by La Belle Isolde, whose heart he had fully won by his prowess in the tournament. Those were days of joy and gladness, too soon, alas to end, for he loved her with all his soul, and saw his heaven in her eyes, while for all his love she gave him the warm devotion of a true heart in return.
But fate at length brought this dream of happiness to an end. For on a day when Tristram was in the bath, attended by his squire Gouvernail, chance brought the queen and Isolde into the chamber of the knight. On the bed lay his sword, and this the queen picked up and held it out for Isolde's admiration, as the blade which had done such noble work in the tournament.
But as she held it so she saw that there was a gap in the edge, a piece being broken out about a foot from the point. At sight of this she let the weapon fall, while her heart gave a great bound of pain and anger.
"Liar and traitor, have I found you at last!" she cried, in an outbreak of rage. "It is this false villain that slew my brother Marhaus!"
With these words she ran in haste from the chamber, leaving Isolde trembling with dread for her lover, for though she knew not the cause of the queen's rage, she knew well how cruel she could be in her passion.
Quickly the queen returned, bringing with her the fragment of steel that had been found in Marhaus's skull, and, snatching up the sword, she fitted this into the broken place. It fitted so closely that the blade seemed whole. Then with a cry of passionate rage the furious woman ran to where Tristram was in the bath, and would have run him through had not Gouvernail caught her in his arms and wrested the sword from her hand.
Failing in this deadly intent, she tore herself from the squire's grasp and flew to the king, throwing herself on her knees before him and crying,—
"Oh, my lord and husband! you have here in your house that murderous wretch who killed my brother, the noble Sir Marhaus!"
"Ha! can that be?" said the king. "Where is he?"
"It is Tramtrist," she replied. "It is that villanous knight whom our daughter healed, and who has shamefully abused our hospitality." And she told him by what strange chance she had made this discovery.
"Alas!" said the king, "what you tell me grieves me to the heart. I never saw a nobler knight than he, and I would give my crown not to have learned this. I charge you to leave him to me. I will deal with him as honor and justice demand."
Then the king sought Tristram in his chamber, and found him there fully armed and ready to mount his horse.
"So, Tramtrist, you are ready for the field," he said. "I tell you this, that it will not avail you to match your strength against my power. But I honor you for your nobility and prowess, and it would shame me to slay my guest in my court; therefore, I will let you depart in safety, on condition that you tell me your name and that of your father, and if it was truly you that slew my brother, Sir Marhaus."
"Truly it was so," said Tristram. "But what I did was done in honor and justice, as you well know. He came as a champion and defied all the knights of Cornwall to battle, and I fought him for the honor of Cornwall. It was my first battle, for I was made a knight that very day. And no man living can say that I struck him foully."
"I doubt me not that you acted in all knightly honor," answered the king. "But you cannot stay in my country against the ill-will of my barons, my wife, and her kindred."
"As for who I am," continued the knight, "my father is King Meliodas of Lyonesse, and my uncle King Mark of Cornwall. My name is Tristram; but when I was sent to your country to be cured of my wound I called myself Tramtrist, for I feared your anger. I thank you deeply for the kind welcome you have given me, and the goodness my lady, your daughter, has shown me. It may happen that you will win more by my life than by my death, for in England I may yet do you some knightly service. This I promise you, as I am a true knight, that in all places I shall hold myself the servant and knight of my lady, your daughter, and shall never fail to do in her honor and service all that a knight may. Also I beseech you that I may take leave of your barons and knights, and pray you to grant me leave to bid adieu to your daughter."
"I cannot well refuse you this," said the king.
With this permission, Tristram sought La Belle Isolde, and sadly bade her farewell, telling her who he was, why he had changed his name, and for what purpose he had come to Ireland.
"Had it not been for your care and skill I should now have been dead," he said.
"Gentle sir," she sadly replied, "I am woeful indeed that you should go, for I never saw man to whom I felt such good-will as to you."
And she wept bitterly as she held out her hand in adieu. But Tristram took her in his arms and kissed away her tears.
"I love you, Isolde, as my soul," he said. "If this despite of fate shall stand between you and me, this I promise, to be your knight while life is left to me."
"And this I promise," answered Isolde, "that if I am married within these seven years it shall only be by your assent! If they stand between me and my love, at least they shall not force me to wed against your will."
Then she gave Tristram a ring and received one from him in return, and he departed from her with a pain as if the parting wrenched their hearts asunder, while she beheld him go with such tears and lamentation that it seemed as if her faithful heart would break.
Tristram next sought the great hall of the court, where were assembled the barons of King Anguish, and took his leave of them all, saying,—
"Fair lords, fortune wills that I must leave you. If there be any man here whom I have offended or aggrieved let him make complaint now, and I shall amend the wrong so far as it is in my power. If there be any who may incline to say a wrongful thing of me behind my back, let him speak now, and I will make it good with him, body against body."
But no man spoke in reply. There were knights there of the blood of Sir Marhaus and the queen, but none that cared to have to do in the field against Sir Tristram.
So bidding them all adieu, he departed, and took ship for Tintagil, in Cornwall.
CHAPTER III.
THE WAGER OF BATTLE.
When tidings came to King Mark that Tristram had returned to Cornwall, cured of his wounds, the king and all his barons were glad, and on the arrival of the knight he was treated with the greatest honor. No long time passed before he rode to the castle of his father, King Meliodas, who received him with fatherly love and pride, while the queen greeted him with the warmest joy. And that their knightly son should have wherewithal to make a fair show in the world, they parted with much of their lands and wealth to him, endowing him with broad estates and lordly castles.
Afterwards, at his father's desire, who wished his son to gain all honor, Tristram returned to the court of Cornwall, where he was gladly welcomed. And here, though his love for La Belle Isolde lay deep in his heart, it was dimmed by later feelings, for there were many fair ladies at the court, and the young knight was at that age when the heart is soft and tender.
In the end it happened that a jealousy and unfriendliness arose between King Mark and him. This grew with time, and in the end the king, who was base and treacherous of soul, waylaid Tristram, aided by two knights of his counsel, and sought to slay him. But so valiantly did he defend himself that he hurled the three to the earth, wounding the king so deeply that he was long in recovering.
The king now grew to hate his young guest bitterly, and laid plans to destroy him. Finally, it occurred to him to send Tristram to Ireland for La Belle Isolde, whose beauty and goodness the young knight had praised so warmly that King Mark had it in his heart to wed her. But his main purpose in sending Tristram to Ireland was to compass his destruction, for he knew how he was hated there.
Tristram was not blind to the danger into which this mission might bring him, and suspected the purpose of the king, but his love of adventure was so great that for it he was ready to dare any risk.
As for Isolde, absence and affection for other ladies had dimmed his passion for her, so that for the time his love was forgotten, and he came to look upon it as a youthful episode not knowing how deeply it still lay under all these later feelings. He, therefore, accepted the mission, and made ready to go in royal state.
He selected for his companions a number of the ablest knights of the court, and saw that they were richly arrayed and appointed, with the hope that such a noble train might win him favor at the Irish court. With this array he departed, and set sail for the coast of Ireland.
But when they had reached the mid-channel a tempest arose that blew the fleet back towards the coast of England, and, as chance had it, they came ashore near Camelot. Here they were forced to land, for their ships were no longer seaworthy. Tristram, therefore, set up his pavilion upon the coast of Camelot, and hung his shield before it.
That same day two knights of Arthur's court, Sir Morganor and Sir Hector de Maris, chanced to ride that way, and, seeing the shield, they touched it with their spears, bidding the knight of the pavilion to come out and joust, if he had an inclination to do so.
"I hold myself ready alike for sport or battle," answered Tristram. "If you tarry a little while, you will find me ready to meet you."
This said, he armed himself, and mounting his horse rode against his two challengers with such fortune that he first smote Sir Hector to the earth, and then Sir Morganor, felling them both with one spear. Rising painfully to their feet, the disconcerted knights asked Tristram who he was and of what country.
"My noble sirs, I am a knight of Cornwall," he answered. "You have been in the habit of scorning the warriors of my country, but you see we have some good blood there."
"A Cornish knight!" cried Hector. "That I should be overcome by a knight from that land! I am not fit to wear armor more." And in despite he put off his armor and left the place on foot, too full of shame to ride.
As it turned out, fortune had worked more favorably for Tristram than he supposed. For King Anguish was then on his way to Camelot, whither he had been summoned by King Arthur as his vassal, for a purpose which he was not told.
It happened that when he reached Camelot neither King Arthur nor Lancelot was there to give judgment on the charge against him, but the kings of Carados and of Scotland were left as judges. And when King Anguish demanded why he had been summoned, Blamor de Ganis, a Knight of the Round Table, accused him of treason, declaring that he had treacherously slain a cousin of his at his court in Ireland.
This accusation threw King Anguish into great trouble, for he did not dream that he had been brought for such a purpose, and knew well that there was but one answer to make to such a charge. For the custom in those days was that any man who was accused of murder or treason should decide the case by the Wager of Battle, fighting his accuser to the death, or finding a knight who would take up his quarrel. And murders of all kinds in those days were called treason.
King Anguish was thrown into a sorrowful frame of mind, for he knew that Blamor de Ganis was a knight of prowess beyond his own strength, nor had he a suitable champion in his train. He therefore withheld his answer, and the judges gave him three days for his decision.
All this was told to Tristram by his squire Gouvernail, who had heard it from people of the country.
"Truly," said Tristram, "no man in England could bring me better tidings, for the king of Ireland will be glad of my aid, since no knight of this country not of Arthur's court will dare fight with Blamor. As I wish to win the good will of King Anguish, I will take on myself his battle. So, Gouvernail, go to the king for me, and tell him there is a champion ready to assume his cause."
Gouvernail thereupon went to Camelot, and greeted King Anguish, who returned his greeting and asked his errand.
"There is a knight near at hand who desires to speak with you," was the reply. "He bade me say that he was ready to do you knightly service."
"What knight may he be?" asked the king.
"Sir, it is Tristram of Lyonesse. For the grace you showed him in your country he is ready to repay you here, and to take the field as your champion."
"God be praised for this welcome news!" cried the king. "Come, good fellow, show me the way to Sir Tristram. Blamor will find he has no boy to handle."
He mounted a hackney, and with few followers rode under Gouvernail's guidance till they came to Tristram's pavilion. The knight, when he saw his visitor, ran to him and would have held his stirrup, but this the king would not permit. He leaped lightly from his horse and took Tristram warmly in his arms.
"My gracious lord," said Tristram, "I have not forgot the goodness which you formerly showed me, and which at that time I promised to requite by knightly service if it should ever be in my power."
"I have great need of you, indeed, gentle sir," answered the king. "Never before was I in such deep necessity of knightly aid."
"How so, my noble lord?" asked Tristram.
"I shall tell you. I am held answerable for the death of a knight who was akin to Lancelot, and for which I must fight his relative, Blamor de Ganis, or find a knight in my stead. And well you know the knights of King Ban's blood are hard men to overcome in battle."
"That may be," said Tristram, "yet I dread not to meet them. For the honor which you showed me in Ireland, and for the sake of your gracious daughter La Belle Isolde, I will take the battle on two conditions: first, that you swear that you are in the right, and had no hand in the knight's death; second, that if I win in this fight you grant me the reward I may ask, if you deem it reasonable."
"Truly, I am innocent, and you shall have whatever you ask," said the king.
"Then I accept the combat," said Tristram. "You may return to Camelot and make answer that your champion is ready, for I shall die in your quarrel rather than be recreant. Blamor is said to be a hardy knight, but I would meet him were he the best warrior that now bears shield and spear."
King Anguish then departed and told the judges that he had his champion ready, and was prepared for the wager of battle at any time that pleased them. In consequence, Blamor and Tristram were sent for to hear the charge. But when the knights of the court learned that the champion was he who had vanquished Marhaus and Palamides, there was much debate and shaking of the head, and many who had felt sure of the issue now grew full of doubt, the more so when they learned the story of Hector de Maris and his companion.
But the combatants took their charge in all due dignity, and then withdrew to make ready for the battle. Blamor was attended by his brother Sir Bleoberis, who said to him, feelingly,—
"Remember, dear brother, of what kin we are, being cousins to Lancelot du Lake, and that there has never been a man of our blood but would rather die than be shamed in battle."
"Have no doubt of me," answered Blamor. "I know well this knight's record; but if he should strike me down through his great might, he shall slay me before I will yield as recreant."
"You will find him the strongest knight you have ever had to do with. I know that well, for I had once a bout with him at King Mark's court. So God speed you!"
"In God and my cause I trust," answered Blamor.
Then he took his horse and rode to one end of the lists, and Tristram to the other, where, putting their spears in rest, they spurred their gallant steeds and rushed together with the speed of lightning. The result was that Blamor and his horse together were hurled to the earth, while Tristram kept his seat. Then Blamor drew his sword and threw his shield before him, bidding Tristram to alight.
"Though a horse has failed me," he said, "I trust that the earth will stand me in good stead."
Without hesitation Tristram consented, springing to the ground, sword in hand, and the combatants broke at once into fierce battle, fighting like madmen, till all who saw them marvelled at their courage and strength. Never had knights been seen to fight more fiercely, for Blamor was so furious and incessant in his attacks, and Tristram so active in his defence, that it was a wonder they had breath to stand. But at last Tristram smote his antagonist such a blow on the helm that he fell upon his side, while his victor stood looking grimly down upon him.
When Blamor could gain breath to speak, he said,—
"Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, I require thee, as thou art a true knight, to slay me, for I would not live in shame, though I might be lord of the earth. You must slay me, indeed, if you would win the field, for I shall never speak the hateful word of surrender."
When Tristram heard this knightly defiance he knew not what to do. The thought of slaying one of Lancelot's blood hurt him sorely, but his duty as a champion required him to force his antagonist to yield, or else to slay him. In deep distress of mind he went to the kingly judges and kneeled before them, beseeching them for the sake of King Arthur and Lancelot, and for their own credit, to take this matter out of his hands.
"It were a pity and shame that the noble knight who lies yonder should be slain," he said, "yet he refuses to yield. As for the king I fight for, I shall require him, as I am his true knight and champion, to have mercy on the vanquished."
"That yield I freely," said King Anguish. "And I heartily pray the judges to deal with him mercifully."
Then the judges called Bleoberis to them and asked his advice.
"My lords," he replied, "my brother is beaten, I acknowledge, yet, though Sir Tristram has vanquished his body, he has not conquered his heart, and I thank God he is not shamed by his defeat. And rather than he should be shamed I require you to bid Tristram to slay him."
"That shall not be," replied the judges. "Both his adversaries, the king and his champion, have pity on him, and you should have no less."
"I leave his fate to you," said Bleoberis. "Do what seems to you well."
Then, after further consultation, the judges gave their verdict that the vanquished knight should live, and by their advice Tristram and Bleoberis took him up and brought him to King Anguish, who forgave and made friends with him. Then Blamor and Tristram kissed each other and the two brothers took oath that neither of them would ever fight with their noble antagonist, who took the same oath. And from the day of that battle there was peace and love between Tristram and all the kindred of Lancelot forever.
The happy close of this contest made great rejoicing in Arthur's court, King Anguish and his champion being treated with all the honor that could be laid upon them, and for many days thereafter feasting and merry-making prevailed. In the end the king and his champion sailed for Ireland with great state and ceremony, while many noble knights attended to bid them farewell.
When they reached Ireland, King Anguish spread far and wide the story of what Tristram had done for him, and he was everywhere greeted with honor and delight. Even the queen forgot her anger, and did all that lay in her power to give her lord's champion a glad welcome to the court.
As for La Belle Isolde, she met Tristram with the greatest joy and gladness. Absence had dimmed the love in both their hearts, and it no longer burned as of yore, yet only time and opportunity were needed to make it as warm as ever.
CHAPTER IV.
THE DRAUGHT OF LOVE.
At length there came a day, after Tristram had dwelt long at King Anguish's court, that the king asked him why he had not demanded his boon, since the royal word had been passed that whatever he asked should be his without fail.
"I asked you not," said Tristram, "since it is a boon that will give me no pleasure, but so much pain that with every day that passes I grow less inclined to ask it."
"Then why ask it at all?"
"That I must, for I have passed my word of honor, and the word of a knight is his best possession. What I am forced to demand, then, is that you will give me the hand of La Belle Isolde,—not for myself, and that is what makes my heart so sore, but for my uncle, King Mark, who desires to wed her, and for whom I have promised to demand her."
"Alas!" cried the king, "that you should ask me so despiteful a boon. I had rather than all King Mark's dominions that you should wed her yourself."
"I never saw woman whom I would rather wed," he replied. "But if I should do so I would be the shame of the world forever, as a false knight, recreant to his promise. Therefore, I must stand by my word, and hold you to your boon, that you will give me La Belle Isolde to go with me to Cornwall, there to be wedded to King Mark, my uncle."
"As for that, I cannot deny you. She shall go with you, but as to what may happen thereafter, I leave that for you to decide. If you choose to wed her yourself, that will give me the greatest joy. But if you determine to give her to King Mark, the right rests with you. I have passed my word, though I wish now that I had not."
Then Isolde was told of what had passed, and bade to make ready to go with Tristram, a lady named Bragwaine going with her as chief gentlewoman, while many others were selected as her attendants. When the preparations were fully made, the queen, Isolde's mother, gave to Dame Bragwaine and Gouvernail a golden flask containing a drink, and charged them that on the day of Isolde's wedding they should give King Mark that drink, bidding him to quaff it to the health of La Belle Isolde, and her to quaff his health in return.
"It is a love draught," continued the queen, "and if they shall drink it I undertake to say that each shall love the other for all the days of their life."
Not many days passed before Tristram took to the sea, with the fair maiden who had been committed to his charge, and they sailed away on a mission that had for them both far more of sadness than of joy, for their love grew as the miles passed.
One day, as they sat together in the cabin, it happened that they became thirsty, and by chance they saw on a shelf near them a little golden flask, filled with what by the color seemed to be a noble wine. Tristram took it down and said, with a laugh,—
"Madam Isolde, here is the best drink that ever you drank, a precious draught which Dame Bragwaine, your maiden, and Gouvernail, my servant, are keeping for themselves. Let us drink from their private store."
Then with laughter and merriment they drank freely from the flask, and both thought that they had never tasted draught so sweet and delicious in their lives before. But when the magic wine got into their blood, they looked upon each other with new eyes, for their hearts were suddenly filled with such passionate love as they had not dreamed that heart could feel. Tristram thought that never had mortal eyes gazed upon a maiden of such heavenly charms, and Isolde that there was never man born so grand and graceful as the knight of her love.
Then all at once she fell into bitter weeping as the thought of her destiny came upon her, and Tristram took her in his arms and kissed her sweet lips again and again, speaking words of love that brought some comfort to her love-sick heart. And thus it was between them day by day to the end of their voyage, for a love had grown between them of such fervent depth that it could never leave them while blood flowed in their veins.
Such magic power had the draught which the queen had prepared for King Mark, and which the unthinking lovers drank in fate's strange error. It was the bitter-sweet of love; for it was destined to bring them the deepest joy and sorrow in the years to come.
Many days passed before the lovers reached Cornwall, and strange adventures met them by the way, of which we have but little space to speak. For chance brought them to land near a castle named Pleure, or the weeping castle. It was the custom of the lord of that castle, when any knight passed by with a lady, to take them prisoners. Then, when the knight's lady was compared with the lady of the castle, whichever was the least lovely of the two was put to death, and the knight was made to fight with the lord of the castle for the other, and was put to death if vanquished. Through this cruel custom many a noble knight and fair lady had been slain, for the castle lord was of great prowess and his lady of striking beauty.
It chanced that Tristram and Isolde demanded shelter at this castle, and that they were made prisoners under its cruel custom. At this outrage Tristram grew bitterly indignant, and demanded passionately what it meant, as honor demanded that those who sought harbor should be received hospitably as guests, and not despitefully as prisoners. In answer he was told the custom of the castle, and that he must fight for his lady and his liberty.
"It is a foul and shameful custom," he replied. "I do not fear that your lord's lady will surpass mine in beauty, nor that I cannot hold my own in the field, but I like to have a voice in my own doings. Tell him, however, if he is so hot for battle, that I shall be ready for the test to-morrow morning, and may heaven be on the side of truth and justice."
When morning came the test of beauty was made, and the loveliness of Isolde shone so far beyond that of the castle lady that Breunor, the lord, was forced to admit it. And now Tristram grew stern and pitiless, for he said that this lady had consented to the death of many innocent rivals, and richly deserved death as a punishment for the ruthless deeds done in her behalf, and to gratify her cruel vanity. Thereupon her head was struck off without mercy.
Full of anger at this, Breunor attacked Tristram with all his strength and fury, and a long and fiery combat took place, yet in the end he fell dead beneath the sword of the knight of Cornwall.
But, as it happened, the castle lord had a valiant son, named Sir Galahad the high prince, a knight who in after years was to do deeds of great emprise. Word was brought to him of the death of his father and mother, and he rode in all haste to the castle, having with him that renowned warrior known as the king with the hundred knights.
Reaching the castle, Galahad fiercely challenged Tristram to battle, and a mighty combat ensued. But at the last Galahad was forced to give way before the deadly strokes of his antagonist, whose strength seemed to grow with his labor.
When the king with the hundred knights saw this, he rushed upon Tristram with many of his followers, attacking him in such force as no single knight could hope to endure.
"This is no knightly deed," cried Tristram to Galahad. "I deemed you a noble knight, but it is a shameful act to let all your men set on me at once."
"However that be," said Galahad, "you have done me a great wrong, and must yield or die."
"Then I must yield, since you treat me so unfairly. I accepted your challenge, not that of all your followers. To yield thus puts me to no dishonor."
And he took his sword by the point and put the pommel in the hand of his opponent. But despite this action the king and his knights came on, and made a second attack on the unarmed warrior.
"Let him be," cried Sir Galahad. "I have given him his life, and no man shall harm him."
"Shame is it in you to say so!" cried the king. "Has he not slain your father and mother?"
"For that I cannot blame him greatly. My father held him in prison, and forced him to fight to the death. The custom was a wicked and cruel one, and could have but one end. Long ago, it drove me from my father's castle, for I could not favor it by any presence."
"It was a sinful custom, truly," said the king.
"So I deem it, and it would be a pity that this brave knight should die in such a cause, for I know no one save Lancelot du Lake who is his equal. Now, fair knight, will you tell me your name?"
"My name is Tristram of Lyonesse, and I am on my way to the court of King Mark of Cornwall, taking to him La Belle Isolde, the daughter of King Anguish of Ireland, whom he desires to wed."
"Then you are welcome to these marches, and all that I demand of you is that you promise to go to Lancelot du Lake, and become his fellow. I shall promise that no such custom shall ever be used in this castle again."
"You will do well," said Tristram. "I would have you know that when I began to fight with you I fancied you were Lancelot. And I promise, as soon as I may, to seek him, for of all the knights in the world I most desire his fellowship."
Soon afterwards Tristram and his fair companion resumed their journey, and in due time reached Cornwall. But as they came near Tintagil their hearts were ready to break, for that magic draught was still in their veins, and they loved each other with a love that was past all telling.
Thoughts came into Tristram's heart to marry the maiden in despite of custom and his plighted word, and gladly would she have consented thereto. But strong as was his love, his honor was stronger, and Isolde, deeply as she grieved, could not ask him to break his word. And thus for many long miles they journeyed onward side by side in silence, their eyes alone speaking, but they telling a story of love and grief to which they dared not give words, lest their hearts' desire should burst all boundaries of faith and honor, and men's condemnation come to them both.
So they came with drooping hearts to the court of King Mark, where the king and his barons received them with state and ceremony. Quickly thereafter the wedding took place, for the king looked with eyes of warm approval upon the beautiful maiden, and prepared richly and nobly for the ceremony, at which many noble knights and lords were present, but from which Tristram withdrew in the deepest anguish, as he could not endure the sight. And so his knightly word was kept, though to keep it almost broke his heart.
CHAPTER V.
THE PERILS OF TRUE LOVE.
The marriage of King Mark with La Belle Isolde was celebrated with rich feasts and royal tournaments, and for many days pleasure ruled supreme at Tintagil Castle, whither noble guests came and went. Among those who came was Palamides the Saracen, drawn thither by his love of Isolde, which his overthrow by Tristram had not banished from his heart.
Strange events soon followed. Two ladies of Isolde's train, who envied and hated Dame Bragwaine, laid a plot for her destruction. She was sent into the forest to obtain herbs, and there was met by men sent by her enemies, who bound her hand and foot to a tree, where she remained for three days. By good fortune, at the end of that time, she was found by Palamides, who saved her from death, and took her to a nunnery that she might recover from her pain and exhaustion.
The disappearance of Dame Bragwaine troubled the queen greatly, for she loved her most of all women, and as the days went by and she returned not, the grief of Isolde grew deep. She wandered into the forest, which had been searched in vain for the lost lady, and, plunged in sad thought, seated herself by a woodland spring, where she moaned bitterly for her favorite.
As she sat there Palamides appeared, and, after listening awhile to her sad complaining, said,—
"Queen Isolde, I know well the cause of your grief, and if you will grant the boon I shall ask, I promise to bring you Dame Bragwaine, safe and sound."
The queen was so glad to hear this, that without thought she agreed to grant his wish, thinking more of the lost lady than of what he might demand.
"I trust to your promise," said Palamides. "Remain here half an hour and you shall see her."
"I shall remain," said the queen.
Palamides then rode away, and within the time mentioned returned with the maiden, whom Isolde clasped to her heart with happy tears.
"Now, madam, I have kept my word," said Palamides; "you must keep yours."
"I promised you hastily," answered the queen; "and I warn you now that I will grant you nothing evil; so beware of your asking."
"My boon will keep till I meet you before the king," said Palamides. "What it is I shall not tell you now."
Then the queen rode home with her maiden, and Palamides followed close after, entering the court while Isolde was telling the king of what had happened.
"Sir king," said the knight, "your lady has told you of the boon she proffered me. The honor of knighthood requires that you shall make her word good."
"Why made you this promise, my lady?" asked the king.
"I did so for grief at the loss of Dame Bragwaine, and for joy to recover her."
"Then what you have hastily proffered you must truly perform. The word of king and queen is not to be lightly spoken or lightly broken."
"What I demand is this," said Palamides, "that you deliver to me your queen, to lead her where I wish and govern her as I will."
At this bold request the king frowned deeply, and anger leaped to his lips. But his word had been passed, and the thought came to him that he could trust to Tristram quickly to rescue the queen, and punish this bold adventurer.
"Take her if you will," he cried. "But I tell you this, you will not keep her long, and that you are asking a dangerous gift."
"As for that, I shall dare the risk."
Then he took Isolde by the hand, and led her from the court, and from the presence of the king and his barons, not one of whom moved, though the queen looked round with suppliant eyes. Leading her to his war-horse, he set her behind him on the saddle, and rode proudly away.
No sooner had they gone than the king sent for Tristram, but by despite he was nowhere to be found, for he was in the forest hunting, as was always his custom when not engaged in feats of arms.
"What shall be done?" cried the king. "Can no one find Tristram? My honor will be shamed if the Saracen be not met and overcome."
"I shall follow him, and seek to rescue the queen," said a knight named Lambegus, one of Tristram's followers.
"I thank you, Sir Lambegus. If I live, I will remember the service."
So Lambegus got to horse and followed Palamides hotly, but to his own sorrow, as it proved, for he was no match for the Saracen, who soon laid him upon the earth wounded nearly to death.
But while the battle went on, Isolde, who had been set upon the earth pending the combat, ran into the forest, and continued to fly till she came to a deep spring, where in her grief she sought to drown herself. But good fortune brought thither a knight named Sir Adtherp, who had a castle near by. Seeing the despair of the queen, he led her to his castle, and then, learning her story, took upon himself her battle, and rode forth to meet the Saracen.
But he, too, fared badly, for Palamides wounded him severely, and made him tell what he had done with the queen, and where his castle might be found.
Palamides, leaving him bleeding on the ground, rode in all haste to the castle. But as he approached, Isolde saw him from a window, and gave orders that the gate should be shut and the drawbridge raised. When Palamides came up and saw that the castle was closed against him, and entrance denied, he took the saddle and bridle from his horse and put him to pasture, while he seated himself before the gate like a man who cared not what became of him.
Meanwhile, Tristram had returned from the hunt, and when he learned what had happened, he was half beside himself with anger.
"Lambegus is no match for the Saracen," he said. "Would I had been here in his stead. The unchristianed villain shall answer for this outrage if he can be found."
Then he armed himself in all haste, and rode into the forest. Not far had he gone when he found Lambegus, sorely wounded, and had him borne to a place of shelter. Somewhat farther on he found Adtherp, also hurt and bleeding, and from him he learned what had taken place.
"Where is my lady now?" he asked.
"Safe in my castle," said the knight. "And there she can hold herself secure against the Saracen."
"Then I owe you much," said Tristram. "Trust me to see that some of your men be sent to your aid."
He continued his journey till he came to the castle, and here he saw Palamides sitting by the gate fast asleep, with his horse grazing beside him.
"The misbegotten rogue takes life easy," said Tristram. "Go rouse him, Gouvernail. Bid him make ready to answer for his outrage."
But he was in such deep slumber that Gouvernail called to him in vain. He returned and told Tristram that the knight was either asleep or mad.
"Go again and tell him that I, his mortal foe, am here."
Gouvernail now prodded him with the butt of his spear, and cried,—
"Arise, Sir Palamides, and make ready, for yonder is Sir Tristram, and he sends you word that he is your mortal foe."
Then Palamides rose without a word of answer, and saddled and bridled his horse, upon which he sprang, putting his spear in rest. But he remained not long in his saddle, for when they met in mid career, Tristram smote him so hard a blow as to thrust him over his horse's tail to the ground.
Then they drew their swords and fought with all their strength, for the lady whom they both loved looked upon them from the walls, and well-nigh swooned for grief and distress on seeing how sorely each was hurt.
"Alas!" she cried, "one of them I love, and the other loves me. It would be a great pity to see Sir Palamides slain, much as he has troubled me, and slain he will be if this fight goes on."
Then, moved by her tender heart, she went down and besought Tristram to fight no more.
"What mean you?" he asked. "Would you have me shamed?"
"I desire not your dishonor; but for my sake I would have you spare this unhappy knight, whose love for me has made him mad."
"As you wish," he replied. "The fight shall end, since you desire it."
"As for you, Sir Palamides," she said, "I command that you shall go out of this country while I am in it."
"If it must be, it must," he answered, in bitter anguish; "but it is sorely against my will, for not to see you is not to live."
"Take your way to the court of King Arthur," she said, "and there recommend me to Queen Guenever. Tell her that Isolde says that in all the land there are but four lovers, and that these are Lancelot du Lake and Queen Guenever, and Tristram de Lyonesse and Queen Isolde."
This message filled Palamides with the greatest heaviness of heart, and mounting his steed he rode away moaning bitterly. But Isolde was full of gladness in being well rid of her troublesome lover, and Tristram in having rescued her from his rival. So he brought her back to King Mark, and there was great joy over her home-coming, while the king and all the court showered honors on the successful champion. Sir Lambegus was brought back to the court and put under the care of skilful leeches, and for a long time joy and good-will reigned.
But Tristram had in King Mark's court a bitter foe, who sought to work him injury, though he was his near cousin. This traitor, Sir Andred by name, knew well of the love between Tristram and Isolde, and that they had secret meetings and tender conversations, so he lay in wait to spy upon them and slander them before the court.
A day came at length when Andred observed Tristram in secret parley with Isolde at a window, and he hastened to the king and poisoned his mind with a false report of what he had seen. King Mark, on hearing this, burst into a fury of passion, and seizing a sword, ran to where Tristram stood. Here he violently berated him as a traitor, and struck at him a furious blow.
But Tristram took the sword-point under his arm, and ran in on the king, wresting the weapon from his hand.
"Where are my knights and men?" cried the enraged king. "I charge you to kill this traitor!"
But of those present not a man would move. When Tristram saw this, he shook the sword threateningly against the king, and took a step forward as if he would have slain him. At this movement King Mark fled, while Tristram followed, and struck him so strong a blow with the flat of the sword on his neck that he was flung prostrate on his nose. Then Tristram hastened to his room and armed himself, after which he took his horse and his squire and rode into the forest.
Here the valorous champion killed some of the knights whom the king had sent against him and put to flight thirty more, so that King Mark in fear and fury called a council of his lords, and asked what was to be done with his rebellious subject.
"Our counsel is," said the barons, "that you send for Sir Tristram and make friends with him, for you well know that if you push him hard many of your men will join him. He is peerless and matchless among Christian knights except Sir Lancelot, and if you drive him to seek King Arthur's court he will find such friends there that he may defy your power. Therefore we counsel you to beg him to return to the court, under assurance of safety."
"You may send for him, then," said the king, though his heart burned with secret fury. The barons now sent for Tristram under a safe-conduct, and he returned to the court, where he was welcomed by the king, and all that had passed seemed to be forgotten.
Shortly after this the king and queen went hunting, accompanied by Tristram and many knights and gentlemen of the court. Entering the forest, they set up their pavilions and tents beside a river, where they hunted and jousted daily, for King Mark had with him thirty knights who stood ready to meet all comers.
Fortune brought thither two knights-errant, one being Lamorak de Galis, who of all knights was counted next to Lancelot and Tristram. The other was Sir Driant, both being Knights of the Round Table.
Driant jousted first with the Cornish knights, and, after unhorsing some of them, got a stunning fall. Then Lamorak offered to meet them, and of the thirty knights not one kept his seat before him, while some were sorely hurt.
"What knight is this who fights so well?" asked the king.
"Sir," said Tristram, "it is Lamorak de Galis, one of the best knights who ever put spear in rest."
"Then, Sir Tristram, you must meet him. It were a shame to us all to let him go away victor."
"It were a greater shame to overthrow a noble knight when he and his horse are worn out with over-labor."
"He shall not leave here and boast of how he vanquished King Mark's knights. I charge you, as you love me and my lady La Belle Isolde, to take your arms and joust with this Lamorak."
"You charge me to do what is against knighthood, for it is no honor for a fresh man and horse to master spent and weary ones. Since you command it I must do it, but it is sorely against my will."
Then he armed himself and took his horse, and in the joust easily overthrew Lamorak and his weary steed. The knight lightly sprang from the falling charger and drew his sword, boldly challenging Tristram to meet him on foot. But this Tristram would by no means do, though Lamorak hotly renewed the challenge.
"You are great of heart, Sir Lamorak," said Tristram, "but no knight nor horse was ever made that could forever endure. Therefore I will not meet you, and I am sorry for having jousted with you."
"You have done me an evil turn," said Lamorak, angrily, "for which I shall repay you when an opportunity comes."
Lamorak soon got his revenge. For as he rode with Sir Driant towards Camelot he met by the way a boy who had been sent by Morgan le Fay to King Arthur. For the false enchantress still held to her hatred against her noble brother, and by all means sought his harm. So by magic art she had made a drinking-horn of such strange virtue that if any lady drank of it who had been false to her husband all the wine would be spilled, but if she had been true to him, she might drink in peace and safety.
This horn she sent to Arthur's court, hoping that Guenever might drink thereof and be dishonored, for her love for Lancelot was known to all but the king.
Lamorak, learning from the boy his errand, bade him bear the horn to King Mark's court, and tell the king that it was sent to prove the falseness of his lady, who loved Sir Tristram more than she did her wedded lord.
Soon afterwards, therefore, the boy appeared at Tintagil Castle, and presented King Mark the magic horn, telling him of its virtues, and all that Sir Lamorak had bidden him say.
"By my royal faith we shall try it, then!" said the king. "Not only my queen, but all the ladies of the court, shall drink of it, and we shall learn who among them has other lovers than their liege lords."
Much to their unwillingness, Queen Isolde and a hundred ladies of the court were made to drink from the magic horn, and of them all only four drank without spilling the wine.
"Now, by my knightly honor, all these false dames shall be burnt!" cried the king. "My court shall be purged of this vile stain."
"That shall they not," cried the barons. "We shall never consent that the queen and all these ladies shall be destroyed for a horn wrought by sorcery, and sent here to make mischief by as foul a sorceress and witch as the earth holds. She has always been an enemy to all true lovers and sought to do them harm, and if we meet with Morgan le Fay she will get but scant courtesy at our hands. We would much rather believe the horn false than all our ladies untrue."
But Tristram's anger was turned towards Lamorak for this affront, for he knew well what had been his purpose. And he vowed in his heart that he would yet repay him for this treacherous act.
His affection for Queen Isolde kept as warm as though the love-draught still flowed in his veins, and he sought her at every opportunity, for the two greatest joys that life held for him were to tell her of his love and hear from her lips that her love for him had never dimmed.
But his treacherous cousin Andred watched his every movement, and kept the king advised that Tristram continued his secret interviews with the queen. So an ambush of twelve knights was set, and one day, when Tristram had just paid a stolen visit to the queen, and sat in loving converse by her side, these ambushed knights broke suddenly upon him, took him prisoner, and bound him hand and foot.
Then, by order of the king, he was borne to a chapel that stood on a rocky height above the sea, where Andred and some others of the barons who were his enemies came together to pass judgment upon him.
Tristram in all his life had never stood in such peril, for his hands were bound fast to two knights, and forty others surrounded him, every one a foe. Care had been taken to get rid of his friends among the barons by sending them away from the court on various pretexts. Like a lion surrounded by jackals he chafed in his bonds, while his great heart swelled as if it would break. No escape seemed possible, but with a reproachful voice he said,—
"Fair lords, I have in my time done something for Cornwall, and taken upon myself great peril for your benefit. Who among you all was ready to meet Sir Marhaus, or to cope with Palamides? Is this shameful death my reward for my services to your country? You know well that I never met a knight but that I was his match or his better."
"Boast not, false traitor," cried Andred. "For all thy vaunting, thou shalt die this day."
"O Andred, Andred, that you my kinsman should treat me thus!" said Tristram sorrowfully. "You can be bold when I am bound, but if there were none here but you and me, you would crouch like a cur at my feet."
"Would I so?" cried Andred, angrily. "You shall see what I would do."
And as he spoke he drew his sword, and advanced upon his cousin with intent to slay him on the spot. But Tristram, when he saw him coming with murderous looks, suddenly drew inwards with all his strength the two knights to whom he was bound, and with a mighty wrench broke the strong cords asunder. Then with the leap of a tiger he sprang upon his treacherous cousin, wrested the sword from his hand, and smote him a blow that hurled him insensible to the earth. This done, he rushed with the fury of a madman on his enemies, striking mighty blows to right and left, till in a few minutes ten of them lay dead and wounded on the earth.
But seeing that they were pressing on him in too great force, he retreated into the chapel, in whose door-way he stood, sword in hand, holding it against all their assaults.
Soon, however, the cry went forth that the prisoner had escaped, and had felled Andred and killed many of the barons, and others of his foes hastened up, till more than a hundred beleaguered him in the chapel.
Tristram now looked despairingly on his unarmed form, and saw that many of his assailants wore armor of proof. Death was sure unless he could find some means of escape. He knew that the chapel stood on the brow of the cliff, and here seemed his only hope of safety, though it was a perilous one. Quickly retreating, he shut and barred the door, and then with hand and sword wrenched and tore the iron bars from a window over the cliff, out of which he desperately leaped.
The descent was a deep one, but he fortunately reached the sea below without striking any of the rocks in his descent. Here he drew himself into a crevice at the foot of the cliff.
Those above rushed to the rocky edge and looked down into the boiling waters far below, but they saw nothing of the daring knight, and after a long and vain effort to see him, went away to report to the king that his enemy was drowned.
But while King Mark and Tristram's enemies were congratulating one another upon this, there came to the top of the cliff, Gouvernail, Lambegus, and others of Tristram's men, who, looking down, saw him creeping up from the water to a safer place of shelter among the rocks. Hailing him, they bade him to be of good heart, and, letting down a rope which they quickly procured, they managed to draw him up to the summit, where they congratulated him warmly on his escape. Without delay, however, he left that spot, for fear of his foes returning, and sought a place of shelter in the forest.