Cornwall's Wonderland Part 16

Then was the king right overjoyed, and went unto Sir Tristram's pavilion, and when Sir Tristram saw him he would have knelt and held his stirrup for him to dismount, but the king leapt lightly to the ground, and they embraced each other with great gladness, and the king told his tale.

"Sir," said Sir Tristram, "for your good grace to me, and for the sake of your daughter, Belle Iseult, I will fight this battle, but you must grant me two requests. The first is, you must give me your own word that you were not consenting unto this knight's death; the second, that if I win this battle you shall give me as reward whatsoever reasonable thing I ask." Whereupon the king swore to both of them, and then went to tell his accusers that he had a knight ready to fight Sir Blamor. Then King Arthur commanded Sir Tristram and Sir Blamor to appear before the judges, and when they came many kings and knights who were present recognized Sir Tristram as the young unknown knight who had fought and conquered Sir Marhaus of Ireland, and the excitement grew intense, for two l.u.s.tier knights than Sir Tristram and Sir Blamor could not have been found.

So the time was fixed, and the combatants retired to their tents to prepare for battle.

"Dear brother," said Bleoberis to Blamor, "remember of what kin you are, and how Sir Launcelot is our cousin, and suffer death rather than shame, for none of our blood was yet shamed in battle."

"Fear not," answered Sir Blamor stoutly, "that I will ever disgrace our kin. Yonder knight is a goodly man, but I swear I will never yield, nor say the loth word. He may smite me down by his chivalry, but he shall slay me before I say the loth word."

So the two champions rode to meet each other from opposite sides of the lists, and they feutred their spears and charged each other with so great force that it sounded as though the heavens were sending forth loud thunders, and then Sir Tristram by his great strength bore Sir Blamor to the ground, and his horse under him.

He was quickly clear of his horse, though, and on his feet again.

"Alight, Sir Tristram," he cried, pulling out his sword, "my horse has failed me, but the earth shall not."

So together they rushed, and lashed at each other in fury, slashing and tearing, foining, and making such fearful strokes that the kings and knights held their breath in horror and amazement that two men could use each other so, and neither give in. But so fierce were they that their stabs and cuts might have been falling on men of wood, so little heed did they pay. So fast and furiously they fought, that the wonder was they had breath to keep on; but Sir Blamor was the more furious, and therefore the less wary, so that by and by Sir Tristram saw an opportunity and smote him such a crushing blow on the head that he fell over on his side, and Sir Tristram stood over him.

Then was Sir Blamor's shame piteous. "Kill me, Sir Tristram," he cried, "as you are a n.o.ble knight, for I would not live. Not to be lord of the whole universe would I endure with shame; and I will never say the loth word, so the victory is not yours unless you slay me."

Sir Tristram was sore perplexed what to do. He could not bring himself to kill this n.o.ble knight; but for his party's sake he must, unless Sir Blamor would say the loth word. So he went to the a.s.sembled kings, and kneeling before them he besought them that they would take the matter into their hands. "For," said he, "it is a cruel pity that such a n.o.ble knight should be slain, and I pray G.o.d he may not be slain or shamed by me. I beseech the king, whose champion I am, that he will have mercy upon this good knight."

Sir Bleoberis, though, as hotly demanded that his brother should be slain outright, until the judges gave him stern reproof.

"It shall not be," they said, "both King Anguish and his champion knight have more mercy than thou," and they went to King Anguish, and he, good man, gave up his claim, and resigned the loth word, as each champion was proved of good faith. And so it was settled, and so rejoiced were Sir Bleoberis and his brother, and right grateful for their goodness, that they swore eternal friendship to King Anguish and Sir Tristram, and each kissed the other, and swore a vow that neither would come against the other in combat.

Then King Anguish and Sir Tristram set sail for Ireland, with great splendour and gladness, and right welcome was Sir Tristram when the people heard what he had done for their king and for them. Great were the rejoicings, and great the joy, but the joy of Iseult was greater than all the rest together, for she still loved Sir Tristram with all her heart and soul. Then as the days came and went, much did King Anguish marvel that Sir Tristram had not made his second request, but Sir Tristram was fain to postpone doing so, for he was heavy-hearted at his task. At last King Anguish asked him, saying, "Sir Knight, you have not yet asked of me your reward."

"Alas," said Sir Tristram sadly, "the time is come. I would ask you for your daughter Iseult to take back with me to Cornwall,--not for myself, but to wed the king, my uncle Mark; for full well he knows how she surpa.s.seth all in beauty, and wisdom, and charm, for I myself have told him of her, until he desireth her greatly for his queen and lady."

"Ah me!" cried King Anguish in amazement, and, "Ah me!" he sighed, "I would you had asked her for yourself, Sir Tristram. Right glad would I have been to have called you 'son!'"

"That can never be now," said Sir Tristram gently; "I should be false to my trust, and for ever shamed. My uncle commanded me to come, and I have promised."

So a great feasting and merry-making began, and all things were made ready for La Belle Iseult to sail to another land to be made a queen.

Now whether the queen, Iseult's mother, saw that Sir Tristram and her daughter loved each other, or whether she feared that her daughter might not love King Mark, no one will ever know, but she set to work to concoct a love-drink, brewing it from delicate herbs and simples, which when ready she enclosed in a golden flask. This she handed to Dame Bragwaine, La Belle Iseult's waiting-woman, bidding her guard it with all care, and not let it out of her sight until La Belle Iseult and King Mark were wedded, when she was to give it to them that they might each drink of it, so that a great and holy love should rise and grow between them, never to die until their lives ended.

So, on a certain day a dainty vessel, all painted white and silver, and furnished with the utmost richness and beauty, set sail from Ireland.

At the prow glittered a golden swallow, all set with gems, and on board were Tristram and Iseult.

Silently, swiftly they glided through the waters, the sun shone softly, the breeze lightly caressed the dainty, bird-like vessel and the white fluttering canvas, as though afraid to breathe on anything so lovely as the lady lying amidst her silken cushions and cloth of gold. Then it stole modestly away, only to return again, full fain to touch her golden hair, or her delicate cheek. The scent of the land-flowers filled the air, for the vessel was gaily bedecked with all the fairest and most delicate.

In this little nest of luxury sat Tristram and Iseult, he so stalwart, n.o.ble, bronzed, she so surpa.s.singly beautiful, gentle and lovable.

All through the long, warm days they sat listening each to the other's talk, and when the sun went down and left them to the fair white light of the moon, they still sat and talked, or looked at each other, for the mere sight of each filled the other's heart with joy.

Oh the pity of it all! the pity of it! Such a n.o.bly-matched pair was never seen before nor since.

Iseult made Sir Tristram tell her of the battles he had fought, of the countries he had seen, and of the people of this new land towards which she was hastening; for all was strange to her, and a great heaviness filled her heart at the thought of King Mark and his court.

That her mind might not dwell on it, she asked him of Queen Guinevere, the fame of whose beauty had spread to all lands.

"Alas, alas for her beauty!" cried Sir Tristram. "It has been the undoing of many good men and true, who have died for love of her. Her beauty has been a sore curse to her, poor lady."

"Then," answered Iseult, looking up at him with serious, innocent eyes, "right thankful I am that my face will never bring ill-fortune to any man!" And Sir Tristram had to turn from her to hide his pain, for his love for her was greater than ever.

On and on they sailed, full fain that their voyage might last as long as might be, for perfect was their happiness to be together thus, and everything was fair and peaceful. But at last one day the sun was hid by the clouds which gathered in the sky above them, the wind howled threateningly around the vessel, increasing in violence as the hours dragged by, until the danger of the dainty craft was great.

Ill indeed would it have been with them but for the might of Sir Tristram's arm, for the vessel was not one built to battle with tempests and mighty seas. With all his strength and skill he guided her through the troubled waters, and Iseult sat and watched him at his task, marvelling at his power. "Ah," she thought, "had I been a man I would have been just like to him." And, without fear of danger, so perfectly did she trust in him, she lay and gazed at him with admiring, wistful eyes. From time to time he came to her to encourage and rea.s.sure her, but although she felt no fear, she did not tell him so, so dearly did she love to hear his voice, and feel his care for her.

At last when the danger was over he came to her again, dropping beside her almost exhausted. "Iseult, my throat is parched and burning, my tongue cleaves to my mouth. Give me some drink," he pleaded.

Pleased to do his bidding, glad to be able to help him, Iseult rose and ran below. But in the confusion caused by the storm nowhere could she find aught wherewith to quench his thirst. Dame Bragwaine, half dead with terror of the storm, fatigue, and sickness, lay in a sort of stupor on her couch, and Iseult, ever kind and thoughtful for others, would not disturb her to help her in her search. Here and there she sought, and high and low, but nowhere could she find wine or aught else to drink.

Right vexed and disappointed, she was returning empty-handed to the deck where Sir Tristram impatiently awaited her, when, close by the couch of Dame Bragwaine, she spied a beautiful golden flask full of a rich sparkling liquid. With a cry of relief she s.n.a.t.c.hed it up, and running up on deck, "Drink, drink," she cried, unloosing the fastening, "the perfume is intoxicating. Such wine I never before beheld."

"Nay, sweet Lady Iseult," cried Sir Tristram, pressing it back into her hands; "deign first to put your lips to it; do me that honour, or I will never taste it." So to her sweet parted lips she raised the flask, and drank, and then, smiling and glad, she handed it to him.

Alas, alas, unhappy pair, who might have been so happy! No sooner had they tasted of that fatal drink than through their hearts and brains poured a love so great, so deep, so surpa.s.sing, that never a greater could exist in this world. And in their hearts it dwelt for evermore, never leaving them through weal or woe.

At last, alas, after many adventures and many dangers, the happy voyage ended, the coast of Cornwall was reached, and Sir Tristram had to lead La Belle Iseult to the king. And King Mark when he saw her was so amazed at her beauty that he loved her there and then, and with great pomp and rejoicing the marriage took place at once.

But La Belle Iseult loved none but Sir Tristram, and he her.

For a while all went well, but only for a little while, for King Mark, told by his knights of the love Queen Iseult and Sir Tristram bore each other, grew sore jealous of Sir Tristram, and hating him more and more, longed for a chance to do him harm.

But Tristram gave him no chance, for he was the n.o.blest and trustiest knight of all the court, and though he fought and jousted continually no harm came to him until one unhappy day, when he was lying sleeping in a wood, there came along, a man whose brother Sir Tristram had killed; when the man saw Sir Tristram lying there asleep he shot an arrow at him, and the arrow went through Tristram's shoulder.

Sir Tristram was on his feet in a moment, and killed the man; but his own hurt was a grievous one, for the arrow had been a poisoned one, so, what with his poisoned wound and what with his sorrow that Iseult was so kept a prisoner by King Mark, that he could neither see her nor hear from her, he was very ill for a long time, and like to die. And no one had the skill to cure him but La Belle Iseult, and she might not do so.

Hearing, though, by some means, of his sad condition she sent to him a message by Dame Bragwaine's cousin, bidding him to go to Brittany, for King Howell's daughter, Iseult la Blanche Mains,--or Iseult of the White Hands,--could cure him, and no one else. So he took a ship and went, and this other Iseult healed his wounds, and restored him to perfect health.

But she grew to love him, too, for he was a man to whom all women's hearts softened.

She was but a child, this White-handed Iseult. She had barely reached her sixteenth year. And though she thought of her unasked love with shame, and though she ever strove to hide it, it shone in her soft brown eyes, and pale face, and filled Sir Tristram's heart with pain for her. So he left the court and sailed the seas again, hoping that she would forget him, and learn to love someone else.

Now, though Sir Tristram could not tear the love of La Belle Iseult from his heart, he did not spend his life in moans and sad regrets. He gave his life to helping the oppressed, and destroying the oppressors; to helping to right wrongs, and in all ways living a good and n.o.ble life worthy of the lady who loved him.

His liking for the sea was great, too, so that he spent many days and nights on board his own good ship, and often he thought of the time when La Belle Iseult crossed the sea with him, of the sunny days and starry nights, the peace, the joy, and the happiness of that sweet time.

And his heart ached cruelly, and he was full of sadness, for he was a very lonely man now, with no hope of happiness before him.

Then one day in his loneliness came the thought of that other lonely heart,--kind little Iseult of the White Hands, and of her love for him.

"She suffers as I do," he said. "Why should two women suffer so for my sake? I cannot love her as she deserves, but I will try to make her happy." So, turning the vessel's head, he made once more for Brittany, and there he found that an earl called Grip was making great war upon King Howell, and was getting the mastery. So Sir Tristram joyfully went to the king's aid, and after mowing down Grip's knights right and left, he killed the earl himself, and so won the battle.

Right royally was Sir Tristram received after that, and King Howell in his joy would have given him his whole kingdom had he so desired. But Sir Tristram would accept no reward. What he had done, was done for Iseult's sake, he said. And a love grew up in Tristram's heart for the gentle maiden, for who could help loving one kind and beautiful!

So they were married with great rejoicings, and all the kingdom was glad, and so was Sir Tristram, for now, he thought, he could quench that fatal love for Iseult of Cornwall, and could spend the rest of his days in this sunny land, happy with his sweet child-wife.

Alas! alas! Once more the deadly love-drink did its work! No sooner had he placed the ring on his bride's finger, than the love for the other Iseult returned stronger than ever.

"I have been false to my lady!" he cried to himself remorsefully, "for I swore ever to be her true knight, loyal to her alone."

And such sorrow and repentance filled his heart that his love for his bride was killed. He concealed his pain so well, though, that little Iseult was happy, never doubting that her husband loved her,--but all the days and nights that pa.s.sed were full for Tristram of yearning for his love, and a great longing to be again in Cornwall.