Now that's enough talk
about good persons' deeds
for you who have listened politely.
And still Tristan isn't ready
for the ceremony of knighthood.
I don't know how to do it;
it's hard to get the sense right.
The tongue knows not what to say
without the guidance of the sense 
that alone rules its office.
What is confusing the two of them, 
that I can tell you shortly:
It's just the same thing
that confounds a thousand others:
When a man who speaks poorly
confronts another, rich in words,
the little that he can do 
is stilled in his mouth.
I think this has happened to me.
I see now, and have seen before,
so many a fine-spoken man
that anything I try to say
sounds to me like nothing at all
compared to how men speak today.
Discourse has become such an art
that I must take the greatest care
to weigh every word I use,
making sure it's as well-shaded
as I would require it to be
in any other author's story,			4850
and up to what I would expect
in what I read by others.
So I don't know how to start.
Neither my tongue nor my sense
can do anything to help me.
Whatever I had in the way of words
has been snatched away
right out of my mouth.
I’m at a loss what to do, 
except perhaps for the one thing
that truly I have never done.
All my prayers and my requests
I will submit, for once,
with earnest heart and hands
to the heights of Helicon,
unto the ninefold throne
from which the fountains flow
that alone bestow the gifts
of words that make sense.
The lord, the nine mistresses,
Apollo and the Camenae,
the nine sirens of the ear
who rule these gifts at his court,
weighing out the share of favors
they will grant to the world-- 
they pour the flood of sense
in such plenty upon so many
that they cannot, in all fairness, 
deny me a drop of it.
And if indeed I'm granted that trickle
I'll use it well to hold the place
a man can hold by using words.
And be it but a droplet, 
it can scarcely be so paltry 
as not to straighten out,
yes, straighten out and level
both my tongue and sense,
of which I've so lost control.
With it I'm able to put my words
through the glowing crucible
of Camenian lucidity,
and in that refinement
transmute them wonderfully, 
into something as desirable
as the gold of Araby.
May these divine gifts,
from that highest throne,
the only true Helicon, 
from which the words effuse
that echo through the ear			4900
into laughter in the heart,
and make talk translucent
as the finest gemstone,
may they grant my voice
and my request a hearing
in the choirs of heaven
in accord with this my prayer.
Yet let all this come about,
that I be granted all the powers
that I have wished upon my words,
and receive of them full measure,
that my words ease every ear,
cast cool shade for every heart
like the budding linden leaves,
go so smoothly with what I mean
that for every stride they try to make
I clear and level their path,
nor leave in their way
any rubble strewn
unless it's of no consequence,
and that they pass as though through clover
and only over shining blossoms;
even then I put my skills
(however little skilled I be)
hardly or not at all
to that which many a man
is tempted and has gone astray.
That I surely must not do.


For if I used all my craft
to picture what a young knight needs,
as God knows so many have,
and went on and on about how Vulcan,
so wise, so renowned,
who always found some clever fix,
wrought with his own practiced hand
the chain mail for Tristan, 
his sword, his leg guards, and all else
that distinguishes the real knight,
with every masterful refinement—
drew and incised accurately
the emblem of unfailing courage, 
the wild boar on his shield—
how he adorned the helmet
so that from its peak
just as do the pangs of love
the fiery rays streamed—
how in every detail
he finished this and that
to marvelous perfection—
and how my Lady Cassandra, 			4950
savant of the Trojans,
used all her craft and knowledge
in tailoring for Tristan
both in cut and finish
his entire dress and raiment
according to such wisdom
as very well she knew
from her wide experience
(the gods, as I have read,
themselves refined her wit in heaven)—
how much more would all that do
than what I have already done
in preparing Tristan's retinue
for his taking of the sword?
And so, this is the way I see it,
if I can count on your agreement,
since well I know: courage and wealth—
whoever can combine with them
moderation and courtly manners,
these four things work together
as well as any others.
Not Vulcan and Cassandra
together ever prepared a knight
more excellently than did these.
Now since these four kinds of riches
can be counted on
to take care of a rich knighting,
we commend to the four of them
our good friend Tristan.
Let them take him to hand, 
Make us of him a worthy man
as nothing else so well can,
with all the tailored finery
his mounted retinue already
wears in such splendor.
Thus let Tristan be conducted
to court and into the ring,
in all of his apparel
equal to his companions,
just as fine, just as rich.


Equal, I mean, only in finery 
such as worked by human hands,
not in that native clothing
that comes from the workshop of the heart,
the cloth that's called noble spirit,
that puts the spirit in a man,
ennobling both body and life.
Such raiment wasn't given 
to master and man equally.
Yes, God the Most Noble knows			5000
that Tristan, keen for honors, 
was clothed in very special fashion, 
with comportment and composure
beyond normal finery.
In real virtue and elegant custom
he surpassed all of them.
And even so, as to dress, 
the kind that human hand had made, 
in this there was no such distinction.
As to that the noble captain
was equal with his men.
And thus the ambitious
prince of Parmenie
with all his attendants
came to the church in company,
and having heard the Holy Mass
received the benediction
customary for them then.
And then King Marke took Tristan,
his nephew, into hand,
girding him with sword and spurs.
"See," he spoke, "nephew Tristan,
with the consecrated sword,
and having now become a knight,
consider always knightly valor
and remember who you are.
Keep your nobility and birth
always before you in your sight.
Be circumspect and undeceived,
be truthful and be well accomplished;
to the poor always gracious, 
equal to the rich in pride;
value and ornament your life,
honor and love all women;
of mildness and loyalty
be ever newly aware!
For by my honor I declare
that neither gold nor finest sable
ever suited sword nor spear
so well as gentle loyalty."
With this he handed him the shield,
kissed him, and said, "Nephew, go, 
and God give you by his power
success in this your knighthood!
Be always courtly, always joyous!"


Tristan then in turn invested
each of his own companions,
just as his uncle had done for him,
with the sword, spurs, and shield.
With a few modest words				5050
he commended to the attention of each
gentleness, loyalty, and humility.
With that the ceremony ended,
and the displays of horsemanship
began in earnest, as I suppose.
But how they broke out of the circle,
how they thrust with shafts,
how many of them they shattered,
I'll leave the count to the grooms
who had to go and pick them up.
I don't want to advertise
their splendid riding feats,
but rather do them one service
and this very willingly:
may the honor and renown of each
increase in every way,
and may God grant them the life
a knight deserves for true knighthood!