Having made peace among them,
the queen took Tristan by the hand
and seated him with her daughter,
then bid him tell the whole story
to her lord, from the beginning,
how everything had come about
in their various adventures—
the battle with the dragon,
and about King Marke's suit.
Again he told the whole story.
"But, Sir Tristan," said the king,
what assurance do I have
that I should believe all of this?"
"This, My Lord.  I have with me
all my own king's princes.
Whatever security you require,
it is yours for the asking,
as long as I hold a one of them."
With this the king retired,
so that Tristan and the ladies
were left there to themselves.
Tristan took Paranis aside.
"Fellow," he said, "an errand for you.
A ship now lies in the harbor—
go down there to it quietly
and ask for the one among them
whose name is Curvenal.
Tell him confidentially				10700
to come at once to his master,
but say nothing to anyone else.
Bring him here, as your duty."
And you should know he did so,
and so unobtrusively
that no one noticed anything.


When the two of them arrived
and came before the ladies,
only the queen took notice
with a nod to Curvenal.
The others paid no attention,
since he was not in knightly garb.
When Curvenal found Tristan
safe and sound, enjoying himself
in the company of the ladies,
he exclaimed (speaking Franzois),
"ha, bea duz sire, 
for God's sake, how is this—
I find you now taking pleasure,
hiding out secretly
here in this paradise,
while leaving us to worry?
We all though you were lost—
until this moment I'd have sworn
you couldn't still be alive—
how anxious you have made us!
All your men on the ship
were ready to swear just today
that they were sure you were dead.
Only as a last resort
would they wait until tonight,
having made up their minds
to make sail at sunset."
"Oh, no," the good queen remarked,
"here he is, alive and happy."
At this,Tristan switched to Britunish
when making his reply.
"Curvenal, go right back,
let them know that I'm safe
and that I'm going to accomplish
what we were sent out to do."
He then explained briefly
how he had succeeded
as clearly as he could.
And after he had told him
of the labors he had done,
he sent him off.  "Go quickly,
tell all the nobility
and all the knights as well.
Early tomorrow morning			10750
each of them must be ready,
in court dress and full arms,
the very best of everything
that they have brought with them.
They must watch for my messenger.
As soon as I send for them,
they are to ride here to court.
Also tomorrow, I'll have you
send to me the small chest
in which I keep my valuables,
and send along with it
the most elegant clothes I have.
You must also dress yourself
as a knight should for court appearance."
Curvenal bowed and went.

"Who was that?" Brangaene asked.
"He seems to think we have
a paradise in our room.
Is he a knight or a servant?"
"My Lady, however he may look to you,
he is a knight, and my man.
And let there be no doubt of this:
never has the sun shone
into a stouter heart than his."
"Then blessed may he ever be,"
murmered the queen and princess,
and with them Brangaene,
courtly and refined.
Curvenal soon reached the ship,
and having delivered instructions
as he had been sent to do,
he also told what he had heard
and how Tristan was now faring.
They at once began to act
like one, having seen death,
who finds himself in reprieve,
so relieved were they all,
but many of them were gladdened more
by the cessation of hostilities
than at Tristan's escape.
The envious clique of barons
quickly went back to whispering
and breeding rumors as before.
They suspected Tristan all the more
of plying illicit wizardry
to perform such deeds of valor.
Each one murmured to the other—
"It's obviously unnatural
that he should work such miracles.
How else, I ask you, can this man		10800
bring off every exploit
that he happens to undertake?"

By this time the day had come
appointed for the trial by combat,
and quite a large company
of the country's best forces
was in the hall, before their king.
Among his stout retainers
there was much speculation
as to who would take the field
on behalf of the maid Isolt
against the seneschal.
The question went around and around,
but among them all, there was none
who knew anything about it.
Tristan by now had received
his chest and courtly finery.
From the chest he selected
three sashes for the ladies
of workmanship as fine
as any queen or empress wore.
Besides these the chest was filled
with sparkling clasps and garlands,
finger jewelry and purses,
all of such high quality
that in your rarest fancies
you could hardly imagine
or hope for any better.
But of it all, no more was used
except what Tristan picked out
to complement his costume—
a belt, that well suited him,
and a wreath with a little clasp
worthy to ride on his brow.
But then he said, "My Ladies,
take the rest, you three,
the chest and all it holds,
and do with it as you please."
With this announcement he left
to put his own raiment on,
doing so with great care,
much concerned for his appearance
when festively attired
as a man proud to be a knight,
so that his finery reflected this.

He made his entrance before the ladies,
who, having taken careful notice,
began to reconsider
what all this could mean.
To all three of them he seemed			10850
splendid in his good fortune.
The three, resplendent in themselves,
thought as though with one mind,
"Ah, surely, this man
is a manly creature—
how he looks in what he wears
goes to prove he is a man.
All of it comes together.
Surely he is marked by greatness."
Tristan furthermore had summoned
his entire company.
As they entered and took their places
in the hall, one after another,
the local powers looked on,
each one taking notice
of the finery on display,
intended to impress them all.
And indeed, the verdict was
that never had so many men
appeared in so much elegance.
But none of them said a word.
They omitted to address their host
only for the simple reason
that they didn't know the local language.

When all were seated, the king sent
a messenger to the queen
to summon her to the court
and with her the princess.
"All right, Isolt," she said, "let's go.
Sir Tristan, you remain here,
and as soon as I send for you,
let Brangaene take your hand
and lead you in, after us."
"Of course, Your Royal Highness."
Thus the queen Isolt,
the Dawn that promises morning,
by her hand led in the Sun,
the miracle of Irlant,
the brilliant maiden Isolt.
In the train of her Dawn
she rose with measured tread,
by the same path and stride,
in every aspect right and pleasing,
well proportioned, slim and tall,
framed by her finery
as though Love itself
had shaped of her a hunting hawk,
the full achievement of desire
beyond which it cannot reach.
She wore a splendid robe and cloak 		10900
of gold-threaded silk brocade,
cut in the latest Franzois style.
Toward the waist, where the sides
arch down smoothly over the hips,
exotic tassels framed the curve,
pressed closely to her comely shape
with a fine-fitted silk girdle,
riding right where a girdle should.
The dress was like a part of her,
intimate with her body.
Nowhere did it hang loose,
clinging smoothly everywhere
down its whole length from above.
Its folds and smoothly tailored fall
reached all the way to her feet,
just as you would like to see it.
The cloak was carefully worked
with the whitest ermine
for a decorative edging
with the spots all aligned.
Being just the right length,
its bottom hem seemed to float,
neither dragging the floor nor rising.
It was trimmed in front with sable,
as though by some goddess of measure,
not too narrow, not too broad,
the black and gray exactly blended.
Black and gray in this work
were so well intermingled
that neither one could be distinguished.
The sable followed the curve
of the white fur all around,
making the most of the way
these two complement each other.
Serving now as the buckles,
a delicate string of white pearls
had been sewn on as a clasp.
The lovely girl had put the thumb
of her left hand in its loop.
With her right hand she reached down
to just the place—you know, of course—
where the cloak should be held closed,
and delicately she gathered
its edges with two fingers.
From there on down it hung free,
where now and then among its folds
you might catch sight of this or that,
I mean the lining or the trim,
the inner side, then the outer—
but hidden down deep within			10950
the image, that Love itself
had composed so beautifully
of body and of meaning.
Never has so fine a picture
been so sewn and so devised
as this lovely, living tableau.

Predatory, pinioned glances
flew about as thick as snow,
striking this way and that.
And yet, I think it was Isolt
who seized many a man as prey.
Encircling her brow, she wore
a single strand of gold,
narrow, as it should be,
a fine piece of workmanship.
it was set with precious gems,
stones highly prized,
glittering but delicate,
the finest in the land—
emerald and hyacinth,
sapphire and chalcedony,
all of them so perfect
and mounted in such symmetry
as the wisdom of workmanship
had never before been exceeded
in the jeweler's craft.
Gold gleamed there on gold,
the golden circlet and Isolt,
vying one with the other.
Never was there a man so wise,
had he not seen the stones,
who would have claimed to know
there was a golden circlet there,
so indistinguishable was
her golden hair from the gold.
Isolt proceeded with Isolt,
the daughter by her mother,
glad and free of all sorrows.
They moved with smooth, measured stride,
neither hurried nor retarded,
just the right blend of each.
The girl walked, tall and straight,
confident and aware,
sleek as the soaring kestrel,
bright as the preening parrot.
Her eyes took in everything
as does the falcon on the lookout.
Those eyes were on the hunt—
not rapacious, but infallible,
they swept across their terrain			11000
so steadily and softly,
but so perceptively as well,
that not another pair met them
without mirroring back to hers
some wonder and delight.

The joy-bringing sun,
gliding serenely by her mother,
spread its rays over all,
delighting the hall and people there.
The two of them divided
the pleasant duty of greeting,
sharing the ceremony two ways,
with bows and salutations,
one silent, one with speech.
Each of them took one task,
as though assigned to her alone.
The one gave greeting, the other bowed—
The mother spoke, but not her daughter.
So the high-born pair performed,
taking pleasure in doing so.
When finally Isolt and Isolt,
the sun and her aurora,
had taken their proper places
at the side of the king,
the seneschal looked around,
demanding to be shown
where the legal defender was,
the champion of the ladies.
He found no satisfaction.
Calling his relations together,
he assembled a formidable crowd.
Going to stand before the king,
he presented himself for justice.
"My Lord," he began, "here am I,
to demand my right to combat.
Where is the stout warrior
who thinks to deprive me
of my honor and my right?
I rely on friends and allies,
as well as on good evidence.
If justice now is done correctly,
the verdict must go for me.
In this the only power I fear 
is yours, and yours alone."

"Seneschal," the queen addressed him,
"if you insist on this fight,
I'm not sure what to do.
I had no warning this was coming.
If you agree to forbear,
with only the proviso				11050
that Isolt shall be released
from any obligation,
Sir, I tell you truly,
you will profit as much as she."
"Released?" he snorted. "My Lady,
so would you, I suppose—
just throw in a winning hand!
Say what you will, I expect
to come out on top in this game,
with my stakes and my honor.
If I were to back out now,
all the trouble I have gone to
would be wasted, uselessly.
My Lady, I shall have your daughter,
and that is all there is to that.
Since you know the man so well
who, you say, killed the dragon—
produce him.  Let's hear no more talk."
"Seneschal," the queen replied,
"all right, I hear.  So be it then.
I'll have to look out for myself."
She beckoned to Paranis.
"Now go," she said, "and bring that man."

Many looks were exchanged
among the knights and barons,
who raised a groundswell of whispers
in wonder and speculation
as to who this champion was,
but not one of them really knew.
At this point the proud Brangaene,
the lovely full moon,
entered with stately tread,
escorting by the hand
her companion Tristan.
Worthy, courtly, and refined,
she kept pace at his side,
in person and composure
most fortunately endowed,
in spirit proud and free.
Her associate also advanced
in dignified awareness,
confident of his station
and richly invested
with every attribute
that always marks the true knight.
He had in full every feature
that distinguished him as such.
His stature and his apparel
were in remarkable harmony.
These two aspects together			11100
bespoke the man of knighthood.
His raiment was of gold brocade,
extravagantly rich,
exotic and magnificent,
by no means courtly cast-offs.
The golden thread was woven in
with more than courtly profusion,
so thickly that the silken strands
remained hardly visible,
so intimately conjoined
and mingled with the golden
and sunk in gold everywhere
that the whole seemed more than fabric.
All was covered by a lacework
sewn together with tiny pearls,
the mesh being easily as broad
as a good handspan.
Through this the brocade blazed
just as would glowing coals.
The inner lining was of silk,
dyed deepest royal purple,
the eqal of the iris' petals.
This noble cloth conformed smoothly
in its folds and contours
as closely and as naturally
as only the finest cloth is able.
It became the distinguished man
who wore it with distinction,
much to his own satisfaction.
As a headdress he wore
a fine piece of fine work,
a marvelous little chaplet,
luminous as a burning candle.
Gleaming in it like stars 
shone topaz and carnelian,
chrysolite and rubies.
A thing of light and clarity,
it shone like an aureole
surrounding his head and hair.
He strode thus through the hall
in finery and high spirits,
his mien both masterful and kindly.
His train was also elegant,
and he himself splendid
in aspect and demeanor.

The crowd began to melt apart
as he entered the palace.
Those there from Curnewal
recognized him at once,
and gathered round him in delight,		11150
greeting and receiving him
with his associate, hand in hand,
Tristan and Brangaene.
Now they all joined hands 
with the two new arrivals
and conducted them in company
with masterful splendor
into the kingdom's presence.
The king and both royal women
receiving him correctly,
rose and gave him greeting.
Tristan bowed to all three,
while they in turn gave welcome
to Tristan's entire company
with the sovereign courtesy
that rulers properly use.

All those of knightly standing
now crowded around
to greet the foreign guests,
although ignorant of their mission.
The newcomers quickly found
cousins and other kinsmen there
who had been sent from Cornwall
to Irlant as hostages.
Many a man with tears of joy
ran to embrace his relative,
so that grief and gaiety mingled there,
which I needn't catalogue.
The king himself brought Tristan
to sit by him as he had come,
I mean to say, with Brangaene,
and taking his place beside them
arranged the seating so
that Tristan was in the middle.
On the other side from the king
the two royal ladies took their places.
Then all of Tristan's followers,
the barons and his knights,
sat down on the flooring,
but careful to take positions
with the court in full view,
in order to watch the proceedings.

At once much commentary arose
among the royal court's retainers
as to Tristan's appearance.
In that hall, I know this well,
fountains of praise began to flow
from the mouth of many a man,
lavishing admiration
on that imposing figure.			11200
They paid him many complements
in many ways, for many reasons.
This was their trend in general:
"Where has God made a specimen
of knightly honor finer than this?
Oh, how he seems predestined
for success in every fight,
and victory in trials!
Just look at the clothing he has on,
and how elegantly he wears it!
Attire so imperial
has never been seen in Irlant.
His followers are outfitted
as richly as royalty.
Truly, whoever he may be,
by wealth and rank he is a freeman."
Of such remarks there were plenty.
But the seneschal's gaze,
and I do not exaggerate,
was as sour as vinegar.
A command was given in the hall
for silence and attention.
As the noise and talk subsided
to not much more than half a whisper,
the king inquired, "Seneschal,
now what claim do you present?"
"My lord, I slew that serpent."
Their guest rose to deny it:
"Sir, you did not."—"Sir, I did.
And I am here to prove it."
"Prove it how?" Tristan demanded.
"By this head, which I have brought."
"Your Majesty," Tristan replied,
"since he now presents this head
as evidence for his claim,
I request it be examined.
If it's found to have a tongue,
I renounce my rights in full
and withdraw from any trial by combat."
When the head had been cut open,
nothing was found in the gullet.
Tristan immediately commanded
the tongue to be retrieved and shown.
"Now, Sirs," he addressed the court,
"see for yourselves.  Is it the dragon's?"
Everyone agreed it was,
and declared this to be the fact,
except the seneschal alone.
He wanted to discredit it,
but had no idea how to.				11250


The wretch began to stammer,
but in his mouth and on his tongue
all his ideas and talk
wandered unsteadily.
He couldn't speak, nor keep quiet,
being quite beside himself.
"Gentlemen," Tristan remarked,
"consider how peculiarly
this exploit was accomplished.
After I had killed the dragon
and then out of its dead maw
delicately sliced this tongue
and carried it away with me,
this man came and killed it again."
The opinion of the court was thus:
"He has attained little honor
with all those high-sounding claims.
Whatever anyone may say,
all of us know perfectly,
that if the truth be told,
the man who got there first
and removed the beast's tongue
is surely the one who killed it."
This was accepted unanimously.
The imposter being now unmasked,
and the true hero having gained
the recognition of the court,
Tristan spoke: "Your Majesty,
I remind you of your  pledge.
Your daughter now is in my hands."
"I will keep it," said the king,
"as you have kept yours to me."

"Nay, My Lord," the steward objected,
"by God, say not so.
Be this verdict as it may,
there is surely some deception—
it was only reached by falsehood.
Before I'll be deprived unjustly
of my rights and of my honor,
you'll have to take them by force
in a fair and legal fight.
I insist, Sir, on the duel."
"Seneschal," said Queen Isolt,
"this is a vain proclamation.
With whom do you mean to fight?
This knight isn't going to do it.
He has won Isolt,
and that's all he wanted.
He would be a foolish child
to battle you for nothing."			11300
"How so, My Lady?" said Tristan.
"Rather than he should claim
that we have tricked or cheated him,
I would prefer the combat.
My Lord, My Lady, give the word—
command him to go hence,
arm himself immediately 
and make ready, as will I."
When the seneschal heard
the talk veer back toward fighting,
he called his followers together,
and went to have a conference
with his relatives and friends,
asking them for their advice.
But they found the whole affair
thoroughly discreditable,
and gave him no encouragement.
One of them told him frankly,
"Seneschal, that whole plot
arose from bad intentions,
and therefore came to a bad end.
Do you realize what you're doing?
If you try unjustly
for justice in a duel,
and put your life on the line—
what can you expect us to say?
That way there's neither sense nor honor.
If you throw away your life
for honor already lost,
you'll only make the whole thing worse.
It's obvious to all of us—
that opponent they're presenting
is one formidable enemy.
Take him on, and you'll be dead.
Now that some devilish notion
has done you out of your honor,
at least preserve your life.
Try to work this differently—
maybe someone, somehow,
can lay this disgraceful lie
to rest with some sort of story."
But then the liar asked them,
"well then, what would you have me do?"
"Briefly, this is our advice.
Go back in there and say
your friends are all urging you
to withdraw this demand,
and you now agree to do so."
This the seneschal accepted.
He went back in and announced			11350
that his retainers and relatives
wanted him to desist,
and therefore he would do so.
"Seneschal," laughed the queen,
"I never thought I'd see the day
that you'd throw up a winning hand—
with no more fight than that!"
Plenty of such merriment
spread throughout the palace.
They played all their teasing tunes
on him like a fiddle,
and made a game of tossing him
back and forth like a ball,
having much noisy fun.
And so the plot ended
with the plotter put to shame.