Cornwall's Wonderland Part 15

Whereupon King Mark sent word to say that his champion was better born than ever Sir Marhaus was, and that his name was Tristram of Lyonesse, whose father was a king, and his mother a queen, and a king's sister.

So it was arranged that the fight should take place on an island near, and thither Sir Tristram went in a ship with his horse, and his man Gouvernail, and all that he could need. And so n.o.ble he looked, and so brave, and of so good heart, that not one who saw him depart could refrain from weeping, for they never thought to see him return alive.

So, on the island those two n.o.ble knights met, and Sir Marhaus was sad to see one so young and well-favoured come against him. "I sore repent,"

said he, "of your courage, for hear me that against all the n.o.blest and trustiest knights of the world have I been matched and never yet been beaten. So take my counsel, and return again to your ship while you are able."

"Sir," said Sir Tristram, throwing up his head proudly, "I have been made a knight that I might come against you, and I have sworn never to leave you until you are conquered or I am dead, for I will fight to the death to rescue Cornwall from the old truage."

So they lowered their spears, and without more ado the fight began, and such a fight as that was never seen or known before in Cornwall. At the very first charge they met with such force that Sir Marhaus's spear wounded Sir Tristram in the side, and horses and riders were sent rolling on the ground; but soon they were on their feet again, and freeing themselves of their horses and spears, they pulled out their shields and fought with swords. With their swords they slashed and smote each other until the blood poured from them in streams, and so courageous were they, and determined not to give in, that they fought on and on until it seemed as though that struggle would last for ever. They hurled at each other with such fury that the blood ran down them in streams, dyeing the ground all round, yet neither prevailed in the least degree.

By and by, though, Sir Tristram, being the younger and the better-winded, proved the fresher, and drawing up all his strength for one last effort, he smote Sir Marhaus on the helm with such force that Sir Marhaus fell on his knees, and the sword cleaving through helmet and skull stuck so fast in the bone that Sir Tristram had to pull three times at it with all his might before he could get it free, and when it did come, a piece of the edge of the sword was left behind in the skull.

Overcome with pain and shame at his defeat, Sir Marhaus with a mighty effort raised himself to his feet, and without speaking one word, flung from him his sword and his shield, and staggered away to his ship.

"Ah!" mocked Sir Tristram, "why do you, a knight of the Table Round, flee from a knight so young and untried as I?" But Sir Marhaus made as though he did not hear the taunts, but hurrying on board his ship, set sail with all possible speed.

"Well, Sir Knight," laughed Tristram, "I thank you for your sword and shield; I will keep them wherever I go, and the shield I will carry to the day of my death." So Sir Marhaus returned to Ireland, and there, in spite of all that physicians could do, he soon died of his disgrace and his wounds; and after he was dead, the piece of sword-blade, which could not be extracted before, was found embedded in his brainpan.

When the queen, his sister, saw the piece of sword-blade which was taken from her brother's skull, she asked that she might have it; and putting it away in a secret spot she vowed a solemn vow that when she had found out who had done this thing, she would never rest until she had had revenge.

But about that time Sir Tristram, who had been severely wounded himself, was also lying at the point of death, neither knowing nor caring to know of the blessings and praises showered upon him; and great was the grief that filled the hearts of all the leeches and surgeons for whom King Mark had sent, for not one was of any avail, and the gallant young knight who had saved the honour of Cornwall was more than like to die.

At last, when hope was well-nigh dead, there came a lady to the court who told King Mark that his nephew would never recover from his wounds unless he went to the land whence the poisoned spear came, for there only could he be healed.

So, with all speed was a vessel prepared, and on board it Sir Tristram was carried, and with his man Gouvernail, his dogs, his horses, and his harp, he sailed until he came to Ireland. Here they all landed, and Sir Tristram was borne carefully on sh.o.r.e, to a castle prepared for him, where he was laid on a bed, and there on his bed he lay day after day, playing on his harp so exquisitely that all the people crowded to listen to him, for such music had never been heard in that country before.

By and by the news of the presence of this wonderful player was carried to the king and queen, who were dwelling not very far away: and the king and queen sent for him to come to them; but when they found that he was a wounded knight, they had him brought to the castle, and there his wound was dressed and every care taken of him, for now they all grew to have a great admiration and liking for him. But who he was, or where he came from, they had no idea, for he had not told anyone his real name, or the story of the joust in which he got his wound.

Now in all that land there was no better surgeon than the king's own daughter, the lady Iseult,--who, because of her loveliness, was known as La Belle Iseult.--So presently the king, who came to feel a greater and greater liking for Sir Tristram, and was anxious to see him well again, gave him over to the charge of his daughter, in whose skill he had great faith; for none other seemed able to heal him.

So La Belle Iseult nursed him, and attended to his wound, and soon, at the bottom of it, she found the poison, which she removed, and quickly healed him. Before this end was reached, though, Sir Tristram had grown to love his beautiful nurse, and she her patient; for La Belle Iseult with her flower-like face and large grey eyes, her broad, low brow, round which her gleaming golden hair waved softly, and fell in heavy waves to her knees, was wondrously lovable. And Sir Tristram was more than pa.s.sing n.o.ble, and his manners were gentle and courteous. When he grew stronger he taught Iseult to play the harp, and they sang songs together, so that they saw much of one another.

Someone else loved Iseult also, and this was Sir Palamides the Saracen, and many fair gifts he brought the lady to win her love. But ladies are not to be won thus, and Iseult did not love the Saracen knight.

Indeed, she besought Sir Tristram to joust with him and conquer him, that she might be rid of him, both of which Sir Tristram did, though Sir Palamides had put to the worse many brave knights before, and most men were afraid of him. Sir Tristram, whom Iseult had arrayed in white harness, rode against him on a white horse and threw him, and Sir Palamides was sore ashamed and would have crept secretly from the field, and from the crowds of knights and ladies watching the jousts, had not Sir Tristram gone after him and bid him return and finish the joust.

So Palamides returned and fought again, but once more Sir Tristram overthrew him, and this time wounded him so sore that he was at his mercy.

"Now," said Sir Tristram, "swear to me that you will do as I command, or I will slay you outright." Sir Palamides seeing his stern face, and remembering his strength, promised. "Then," said Sir Tristram, "promise never more to come near the lady La Belle Iseult, also that for a twelvemonth and a day you will bear no armour, nor wear any harness of war."

"Alas," cried Sir Palamides, "I shall be for ever ashamed and disgraced,"

but he had to promise, and in fierce vexation he cut to pieces the harness he then wore, and threw the pieces from him. No one but La Belle Iseult knew who the knight was who had jousted with the Saracen, until some time after; and when it was known, Sir Tristram was loved more than ever by the king and queen, as he was already by their daughter.

So month after month Sir Tristram lingered on in Ireland, and did many a n.o.ble deed during that time, and there he might have gone on living to the end of the chapter, if it had not been for a sore mischance which befell thus.

One day, while Sir Tristram was absent, the queen and the lady Iseult were wandering up and down his room, when the queen suddenly espied Sir Tristram's sword lying on a couch, and seeing it to be of fine workmanship and delicately wrought, she lifted it the better to examine it, and she and Iseult stood admiring it together. Then presently the queen drew the sword slowly from out its scabbard, and there, within an inch and a half of the point, she espied the broken edge of the blade.

Thrusting the weapon into Iseult's hands she ran to her chamber, where she had, safely locked away, the piece of steel which had been taken from her brother's skull; and bringing it back fitted it to the broken blade exactly.

At that her anger knew no bounds, nor her mortification that they should have treated so well, and grown to love, the slayer of her brother.

Sir Tristram happening to return at that moment, her anger so overmastered her that, seizing the sword, she rushed on him and would have slain him there and then, had not Gouvernail caught her and wrested the weapon from her.

Being frustrated she ran in a frenzy of hate to her husband. "My lord,"

she cried, "we have here, in our very home, the destroyer and slayer of my brother, your most n.o.ble and trusty knight."

"Who is he?" cried King Anguish, springing to his feet, "and where?"

"Sir, it is this same knight whom your daughter has healed, and whom we have loved and treated well. I beseech you have no mercy on him, for he deserves none."

"Alas, alas," cried the king, "I am right sorry, for he is as n.o.ble a knight as ever I saw. Do him no violence. Leave him to me, and I will deal with him according to my best judgment."

So the king, who loved Sir Tristram, and could not bring himself to have him slain, went to Tristram's chamber, and there he saw him dressed, and ready to mount his horse. Then and there the king told him all that he had learnt, and said, "I love you too well to do you harm, therefore I give you leave to quit this court on one condition, that you tell me your real name, and if you really slew my brother-in-law, Sir Marhaus."

So Tristram told him all his story, and then took leave of the king and all the court; and great was the grief at his departure, but by far the saddest leave-taking was that between him and La Belle Iseult, for they loved each other very dearly. And when they parted Sir Tristram swore to be ever her true and faithful knight, and she, that for seven years she would marry no one else, unless by his consent or desire. Then each gave the other a ring, and with a last long kiss they parted.

So Sir Tristram returned at last to Cornwall, and there stayed with his uncle Mark, at Tintagel, and great were the rejoicings that he had returned recovered of his wound, and stronger and more n.o.ble-looking than ever.

When, though, he had been back a little time, a great quarrel arose between King Mark and his nephew, and their feelings grew very hot and angry towards one another. It was about a beautiful lady that they quarrelled, a lady whom King Mark loved more than pa.s.sing well.

He thought that Sir Tristram loved her too, and she him, and he was so jealous of Sir Tristram that one day he and his knights, disguised, rode after him to see if he had gone to meet her. And as Tristram came riding back King Mark bore down on him, and they fought until the king was so wounded that he lay on the ground as though dead, and Sir Tristram rode on his way. He never knew that it was his uncle with whom he had fought, but from that day to the day of his death, though they were fair-spoken to each other, the king never forgave his nephew or loved him again.

Indeed, he hated him so much that he ever plotted to injure him, and at last one day he thought of a plan by which he could ruin Tristram's happiness, and probably get him killed as well.

Now it happened that when Sir Tristram had first returned from Ireland he had told his uncle of La Belle Iseult, of her beauty, and grace, and skill; for his heart was ever filled with love and admiration for her, and to him she was the very fairest woman in the world. So to wound Sir Tristram, and to take a sore and cruel revenge upon him, King Mark determined to ask her in marriage for himself, and to make his cruelty the greater, he determined that Sir Tristram should be the knight who should go to Ireland as his amba.s.sador to ask her hand of King Anguish, her father.

Sending for Sir Tristram he laid his commands upon him, rejoicing in the heavy task he was laying upon him, watching him closely to note how he would bear it. But Sir Tristram, though sad at heart and deeply troubled, bore himself bravely, and accepted the task; for to have refused it would have been a cowardice and a shame, and not the conduct of a true knight.

Without delay he set about preparing for his sad journey. He had made ready a large vessel, fitted in the most sumptuous manner possible, and taking with him some chosen knights dressed in the most goodly style, he set sail from Tintagel for Ireland. Before they had got far, though, a fierce storm burst over them, and beat their vessel about until she was driven back to England, to the coast of Camelot, where King Arthur dwelt, and right glad they were to take to the land.

There, when they were landed, Sir Tristram set up his tent, and hanging his shield without it, lay down to rest. Hardly, though, was he lain down, before two knights of the Round Table, Sir Ector de Maris and Sir Morganor, came and rapped on the shield, bidding him come forth and joust.

"Wait awhile," called back Sir Tristram, "and I will bring you my answer."

Then he hastily dressed himself, and came out to the two impatient knights, and without much ado he first smote down Sir Ector and then Sir Morganor, with the same spear.

"Whence come you, and whose knight are you?" they asked as they lay on the ground, unable to rise because of their bruises.

"My lords," answered Sir Tristram, "I am from Cornwall."

"Alas, alas, I am sore ashamed that any Cornish knight should have overcome me," cried Sir Ector. And so ashamed was he that he put off his armour and went away on foot, for he would not ride.

Now it happened about this time that King Anguish of Ireland was sent for to appear at King Arthur's court at Camelot, to answer a charge of treason brought against him by Sir Blamor de Ganis, and Sir Bleoberis, his brother; which was that he had slain at his court a cousin of theirs and of Sir Launcelot.

The king, who had not known for why he was sent, was sore abashed when he heard the charge, for he knew there were only two ways to settle the matter, either he must fight the accuser himself, or he must get a knight to do so for him, and very heavy-hearted he was, for Sir Blamor was a powerful knight, and one of the trustiest of the Table Round, and King Anguish knew that now Sir Marhaus was dead he had no knight in Ireland to match him.

Three days he had in which to decide upon his answer, and great was his perplexity as to what it should be.

Meanwhile, Gouvernail went unto his master and told him that King Anguish was arraigned for murder, and was in great distress. Whereupon Sir Tristram replied, "This is the best news I have heard these seven years, that the King of Ireland hath need of my help. I dare be sworn there is no knight in England, save of Arthur's court, that dare do battle with Sir Blamor de Ganis. Bring me to the king then, Gouvernail, for to win his love I will take this battle on myself."

So Gouvernail went to King Anguish, and told him that a knight wished to do him service. "What knight?" said he.

"Sir Tristram of Lyonesse," answered Gouvernail, "who, for your goodness to him in your own land, would fain a.s.sist you in this."