by Howard Pyle
“Well,” said Sir Tristram, “those are indeed two very good, worthy knights. Now if you will sit here for a while, I will go forward and have speech with them.” “Messire,” said Gouvernail, “I would counsel you not to have to do with those knights, for there are hardly any knights more famous at arms than they, so it is not likely that you can have success of them if you should assay them.”
But to this Sir Tristram said: “Peace, Gouvernail! Hold thy peace, and bide here while I go forward!”
Now those knights when they became aware that Sir Tristram and Gouvernail were there, had halted at a clear part of the woodland to await what should befall. Unto them Sir Tristram came, riding with great dignity and haughtiness, and when he had come nigh enough he drew rein and spoke with great pride of bearing, saying: “Messires, I require of you to tell me whence you come, and whither you go, and what you do in these marches?”
Unto him Sir Sagramore made reply, speaking very scornfully: “Fair knight, are you a knight of Cornwall?” and Sir Tristram said: “Why do you ask me that?” “Messire,” said Sir Sagramore, “I ask you that because it hath seldom been heard tell that a Cornish knight hath courage to call upon two knights to answer such questions as you have asked of us.”
“Well,” said Sir Tristram, “for the matter of that, I am at this present a knight of Cornwall, and I hereby let you know that you shall not go away from here unless you either answer my question or give me satisfaction at arms.”
Then Sir Dodinas spoke very fiercely, saying: “Sir Cornish knight, you shall presently have all the satisfaction at arms that you desire and a great deal more than you desire.” Therewith he took a very stout spear in his hand and rode to a little distance, and Sir Tristram, beholding his intent to do battle, also rode to a little distance, and took stand in such a place as seemed to him to be best. Then, when they were in all wise prepared, they rushed together with such astonishing vehemence that the earth shook and trembled beneath them.
Sir Tristram does battle with Sir Dodinas.
Therewith they met in the middle of their course with a great uproar of iron and wood. But in that onset the spear of Sir Dodinas broke into a great many small pieces, but the spear of Sir Tristram held, so that in the encounter he lifted Sir Dodinas entirely out of his saddle, and out behind the crupper of his horse. And he flung Sir Dodinas down so violently that his neck was nearly broken, and he lay for a while in a deep swoon like one who has been struck dead.
Then Sir Sagramore said: “Well, Sir Knight, that was certes a very great buffet that you gave my fellow, but now it is my turn to have ado with you.”
Sir Tristram does battle with Sir Sagramore.
So therewith he took also his spear in hand and chose his station for an assault as Sir Dodinas had done, and Sir Tristram also took station as he had done before. Then immediately they two ran together with the same terrible force that Sir Tristram and Sir Dodinas had coursed, and in that encounter Sir Tristram struck Sir Sagramore so direful a buffet with his spear that he overthrew both horse and man, and the horse, falling upon Sir Sagramore, so bruised his leg that he could not for a while arise from where he lay.
Therewith Sir Tristram, having run his course, came back to where those two knights lay upon the ground, and he said, “Fair Knights, will you have any more fighting?” They said, “No, we have had fighting enough.” Then Sir Tristram said: “I pray you, tell me, are there any bigger knights at the court of King Arthur than you? If it is not so, then I should think you would take great shame to yourselves that you have been overthrown the one after the other by a single knight. For this day a knight of Cornwall hath assuredly matched you both to your great despite.”
Sir Tristram acknowledges his degree.
Then Sir Sagramore said: “Sir, I pray you upon your true knighthood to tell us who you are, for you are assuredly one of the greatest knights in the world.” Upon this Sir Tristram laughed, “Nay,” quoth he, “I am as yet a young knight, who has had but little proof in battle. As for my name, since you ask it of me, upon my knighthood I am not ashamed to tell you that I am hight Sir Tristram, and that I am King Meliadus’ son of Lyonesse.”
“Ha!” said Sir Sagramore, “if that be so, then there is little shame in being overthrown by you. For not only do I well remember how at the court of the King of Ireland you overthrew six knights of the Round Table, and how easily you overthrew Sir Palamydes the Saracen, but it is also very well known how you did battle with Sir Marhaus, and of how you overcame him. Now Sir Marhaus and Sir Palamydes were two of the best knights in the world, so it is not astonishing that you should have done as you did with us. But, since you have overthrown us, what is it you would have us do?”
“Messires,” said Sir Tristram, “I have only to demand two things of you. One of them is that you give me your word that you will go to Cornwall and confess to King Mark that you have been overthrown by a Cornish knight; and the second thing is that you tell me if you saw Sir Bleoberis de Ganys pass this way?”
They say: “Messire, touching that demand you make upon us to go to King Mark and to confess our fall, that we will do as you desire; and as for Sir Bleoberis, we met him only a short while ago, and he cannot even now be very far from this place.”
“Well,” said Sir Tristram, “I give you good den, and thank you for your information. I have some words to say to Sir Bleoberis before he leave these marches.”
So thereafter he called Gouvernail, and they two rode into the forest and on their way as fast as they were able. As for Sir Dodinas and Sir Sagramore, they betook their course to the court of King Mark, as they had promised to do.
Sir Tristram comes to Sir Bleoberis.
Now, by and by, after Sir Tristram and Gouvernail had gone some considerable distance farther upon that road, they beheld Sir Bleoberis before them in a forest path, riding very proudly and at an easy pass upon his way. At that time the sun was setting very low toward the earth, so that all the tops of the forest trees were aflame with a very ruddy light, though all below in the forest was both cool and gray. Now when Sir Tristram and Gouvernail with him had come pretty nigh to Sir Bleoberis, Sir Tristram called to him in a very loud voice, and bade him turn and stand. Therewith Sir Bleoberis turned about and waited for Sir Tristram to come up with him. And when Sir Tristram was come near by, he said to Sir Bleoberis: “Messire, I hear tell that you have with you a very noble goblet which you have taken in a shameful way from the table of King Mark of Cornwall. Now I demand of you that you give me that goblet to take back unto the King again.” “Well,” said Sir Bleoberis, “you shall freely have that goblet if you can take it from me, and if you will look, you will see where it hangs here from my saddle-horn. But I may tell you that I do not believe that there is any Cornish knight who may take away that goblet against my will.”
“As for that,” said Sir Tristram, “we shall see in a little while how it may be.”
Sir Tristram overcometh Sir Bleoberis.
Therewith each knight took his spear in hand and rode a little distance away, and made himself in all wise ready for the assault. Then when they were in all ways prepared, each launched himself against the other, coming together with such violence that sparks of fire flew out from the points of their spears. And in that assault the horse of each knight was overthrown, but each knight voided his saddle and leaped very lightly to earth, without either having had a fall. Then each drew his sword and set his shield before him, and therewith came together, foining and lashing with all the power of their might. Each gave the other many sore strokes, so that the armor of each was indented in several places and in other places was stained with red. Then at last Sir Tristram waxed very wode with anger and he rushed at Sir Bleoberis, smiting him so fiercely that Sir Bleoberis bare back and held his shield low before him. This Sir Tristram perceived, and therewith, rushing in upon Sir Bleoberis, he smote that knight such a great buffet upon the head that Sir Bleoberis fell down upon his knees, without having strength to keep his feet.
Then Sir Tristram rushed off the helmet of Sir Bleoberis, and he said, “Sir Knight, yield to me or I shall slay you.”
“Messire,” said Sir Bleoberis, “I yield myself to you, and indeed you are as right a knight as ever I met in all of my life.” Then Sir Tristram took Sir Bleoberis by the hand and he lifted him up upon his feet, and he said: “Sir, I am very sorry for to have had to do with you in this fashion, for almost would I rather that you should have overcome me than that I should have overcome you. For I do not at any time forget that you are cousin unto Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and I honor Sir Launcelot above all men else in the world, and would rather have his friendship than that of any man living. So I have had no despite against you in this battle, but have only fought with you because it behooved me to do so for the sake of the King of Cornwall, who is my uncle.”
Then Sir Bleoberis said, “Messire, I pray you tell me who you are?” “Lord,” said Sir Tristram, “I am a very young knight hight Tristram, and I am the son of King Meliadus of Lyonesse and the Lady Elizabeth, sister unto King Mark of Cornwall.”
Sir Bleoberis gives the goblet to Sir Tristram.
“Ha,” said Sir Bleoberis, “I have heard great report of you, Sir Tristram, and now I know at mine own cost that you are one of the best knights in the world. Yea; I have no doubt that at some time you will be the peer of Sir Launcelot of the Lake himself, or of Sir Lamorak of Gales, and they two are, certes, the best knights in the world. Now I believe that I would have given you this goblet, even without your having to fight for it, had I known who you were; and as it is I herewith give it to you very freely.”
So Sir Bleoberis untied the goblet from where it hung at his saddle-bow, and Sir Tristram took the goblet and gave him gramercy for it; and therewith having recovered their horses, each knight mounted, and betook his way whither he was going.
So a little after nightfall Sir Tristram came to the King of Cornwall and his court, and he said to King Mark: “Here is your goblet which I have brought back to you; and I would God that some of your knights who are so much older than I had the courage to do for you what I have had to do.” And therewith he went away and left them all sitting ashamed.
Now it chanced some little while after these things happened as aforesaid, that King Mark lay down upon his couch after his midday meal for to sleep a little space during the heat of the day; and it likewise happened that the window near by where he lay was open so that the air might come into the room. Now at that time three knights of the court sat in the garden beneath where the window was. These knights talked to one another concerning Sir Tristram, and of how he had brought back that goblet from Sir Bleoberis de Ganys, and of what honor it was to have such a champion in Cornwall for to stand for the honor of that court. In their talk they said to one another that if only the King of Cornwall were such a knight as Sir Tristram, then there would be plenty of knights of good worth who would come to that court, and Cornwall would no longer have to be ashamed of its chivalry as it was nowadays. So they said: “Would God our King were such a knight as Sir Tristram!”
King Mark takes hatred to Sir Tristram.
All this King Mark overheard, and the words that they said were like a very bitter poison in his heart. For their words entered into his soul and abided there, and thereupon at that same hour all his love for Tristram was turned into hate. Thus it befell that, after that day, King Mark ever pondered and pondered upon that which he had heard, and the longer he pondered it, the more bitter did his life become to him, and the more he hated Sir Tristram. So it came to pass that whenever he was with Sir Tristram and looked upon him, he would say in his heart: “So they say that you are a better knight than I? Would God you were dead or away from this place, for I believe that some day you will be my undoing!” Yea; there were times when he would look upon Sir Tristram in that wise and whisper to himself: “Would God would send a blight upon thee, so that thou wouldst wither away!”
But always the King dissembled this hatred for Sir Tristram, so that no one suspected him thereof; least of all did Sir Tristram suspect how changed was the heart of the King toward him.
Now one day Sir Tristram was playing upon his harp and singing before King Mark, and the King sat brooding upon these things as he gazed at Tristram. And Sir Tristram, as he ofttimes did nowadays, sang of the Lady Belle Isoult, and of how her face was like to a rose for fairness, and of how her soul was like to a nightingale in that it uplifted the spirit of whosoever was near her even though the darkness of sorrow as of night might envelop him. And whilst Sir Tristram sang thus, King Mark listened to him, and as he listened a thought entered his heart and therewith he smiled. So when Sir Tristram had ended his song of the Belle Isoult, King Mark said: “Fair nephew, I would that you would undertake a quest for me.” Sir Tristram said, “What quest is that, Lord?” “Nay,” said King Mark, “I will not tell you what quest it is unless you will promise me upon your knighthood to undertake it upon my behalf.” Then Sir Tristram suspected no evil, wherefore he smiled and said: “Dear Lord, if the quest is a thing that it is in my power to undertake, I will undertake it upon your asking, and unto that I pledge my knighthood.” King Mark said, “It is a quest that you may undertake.” Sir Tristram said, “Then I will undertake it, if you will tell me what it is.”
King Mark betrays Sir Tristram to a promise.
King Mark said: “I have listened to your singing for this long while concerning the Lady Belle Isoult. So the quest I would have you undertake is this: that you go to Ireland, and bring thence the Lady Belle Isoult to be my Queen. For because of your songs and ballads I have come to love her so greatly that I believe that I shall have no happiness in life until I have her for my Queen. So now, since you have pledged me your word upon your knighthood to do my bidding in this case, such is the quest that I would send you upon.” And therewith he smiled upon Sir Tristram very strangely.
How Sir Tristram fell into despair.
Then Sir Tristram perceived how he had been betrayed and he put aside his harp and rose from where he sat. And he gazed for a long while at King Mark, and his countenance was wonderfully white like that of a dead man. Then by and by he said: “Sir, I know not why you have put this upon me, nor do I know why you have betrayed me. For I have ever served you truly as a worthy knight and a kinsman should. Wherefore I know not why you have done this unto me, nor why you seek to compass my death. For you know very well that if I return to Ireland I shall very likely be slain either by the Queen or by some of her kindred, because that for your sake I slew in battle Sir Marhaus, the Queen’s brother of Ireland. Yet, so far as that is concerned, I would rather lose my life than succeed in this quest, for if so be I do not lose my life, then I must do that which I would liever die than do. Yea; I believe that there was never any knight loved a lady as I love the Lady Belle Isoult. For I love her not only because of her beauty and graciousness, but because she healed mine infirmities and lent ease unto my great sufferings and brought me back from death unto life. Wherefore that which you bid me fulfil is more bitter to me than death.”
“Well,” said King Mark, “I know nothing of all this — only I know that you have given me your knightly word to fulfil this quest.”
“Very well,” said Sir Tristram, “if God will give me His good help in this matter, then I will do that which I have pledged my knighthood to undertake.” Therewith he turned and went out from that place in such great despair that it was as though his heart had been turned into ashes. But King Mark was filled with joy that he should have caused Sir Tristram all that pain, and he said to his heart: “This is some satisfaction for the hate which I feel for this knight; by and by I shall maybe have greater satisfaction than that.”
After that Sir Tristram did not come any more where King Mark was, but he went straight away from the King’s court and into a small castle that King Mark had given him some while since for his own. There he abided for several days in great despair of soul, for it seemed to him as though God had deserted him entirely
. There for a while Gouvernail alone was with him and no one else, but after a while several knights came to him and gave him great condolence and offered to join with him as his knights-companion. And there were eighteen of these knights, and Sir Tristram was very glad of their comradeship.
These said to him: “Sir, you should not lend yourself to such great travail of soul, but should bend yourself as a true knight should to assume that burden that God hath assigned you to bear.”
So they spoke, and by and by Sir Tristram aroused himself from his despair and said to himself: “Well, what these gentlemen say is true, and God hath assuredly laid this very heavy burden upon me; as that is so, I must needs assume it for His sake.”
Sir Tristram departs from Cornwall.
So Sir Tristram and the knights who were with him abode in that place for a day or two or three, and then one morning Sir Tristram armed himself and they armed themselves, and all took their departure from that castle and went down to the sea. Then they took ship with intent to depart to Ireland upon that quest Sir Tristram had promised King Mark he would undertake, and in a little they hoisted sail and departed from Cornwall for Ireland.
But they were not to make their quest upon that pass so speedily as they thought, for, upon the second day of their voyaging, there arose a great storm of wind of such a sort that the sailors of that ship had never seen the like thereof in all of their lives. For the waves rose up like mountains, and anon the waters sank away into deep valleys with hills of water upon either side all crested over with foam as white as snow. And anon that ship would be uplifted as though the huge sea would toss it into the clouds; and anon it would fall down into a gulf so deep that it appeared as though the green waters would swallow it up entirely. The air roared as though it were full of demons and evil spirits out of hell, and the wind was wet and very bitter with brine. So the ship fled away before that tempest, and the hearts of all aboard were melted with fear because of the great storm of wind and the high angry waves.