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In: Historical Novels·Romance·Mythology, Legends & Folklore
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #14244.
The Romance of Tristan and Iseult, rendered by Joseph Bédier, is an adaptation of the medieval Arthurian legend that follows the desperate longing of Iseult the Fair for the absent Tristan. The narrative opens in Tintagel, where Iseult sings of past love and loss, only to be interrupted by the boastful Count Kariado, who brings news of Tristan’s supposed marriage to another lady. Driven by grief, Tristan disguises himself, journeys covertly to Cornwall, and infiltrates King Mark’s court, where his frantic pleas for Iseult are met with ridicule and suspicion. The text weaves together scenes of courtly intrigue, disguise, and the hero’s desperate attempts to reach his beloved, setting the stage for the tragic climax that follows his poisoned wound and final yearning for Iseult.
Bédier’s retelling preserves the lyrical, almost theatrical quality of the original romance, employing a richly descriptive, archaic diction that echoes the 12th‑century source while remaining accessible to modern readers. The voice is dramatic and emotionally charged, with frequent shifts between poetic song and rapid dialogue, reflecting the oral‑storytelling tradition of the age. Readers who enjoy dense, character‑driven medieval tales, particularly those fascinated by the interplay of love, honor, and fate in Arthurian cycles, will find this version compelling. It appeals to scholars of chivalric literature, lovers of tragic love stories, and anyone drawn to the intricate tapestry of courtly intrigue and heroic sacrifice.
The opening · free to read
And he went aboard, and a fair wind filled the sail, and she ran five days and nights for Cornwall, till, on the sixth day, they dropped anchor in Tintagel Haven. The castle stood above, fenced all around. There was but the one armed gate, and two knights watched it night and day. So Tristan went ashore and sat upon the beach, and a man told him that Mark was there and had just held his court.
“But where,” said he, “is Iseult, the Queen, and her fair maid, Brangien?”
“In Tintagel too,” said the other, “and I saw them lately; the Queen sad, as she always is.”
At the hearing of the name, Tristan suffered, and he thought that neither by guile nor courage could he see that friend, for Mark would kill him.
And he thought, “Let him kill me and let me die for her, since every day I die. But you, Iseult, even if you knew me here, would you not drive me out?” And he thought, “I will try guile. I will seem mad, but with a madness that shall be great wisdom. And many shall think me a fool that have less wit than I.”
Just then a fisherman passed in a rough cloak and cape, and Tristan seeing him, took him aside, and said:
“Friend, will you not change clothes?”
And as the fisherman found it a very good bargain, he said in answer:
“Yes, friend, gladly.”
And he changed and ran off at once for fear of losing his gain. Then Tristan shaved his wonderful hair; he shaved it close to his head and left a cross all bald, and he rubbed his face with magic herbs distilled in his own country, and it changed in colour and skin so that none could know him, and he made him a club from a young tree torn from a hedge-row and hung it to his neck, and went bare-foot towards the castle.
The porter made sure that he had to do with a fool and said:
“Good morrow, fool, where have you been this long while?”
“At the Abbot of St. Michael’s wedding, and he wed an abbess, large and veiled. And from the Alps to Mount St. Michael how they came, the priests and abbots, monks and regulars, all dancing on the green with croziers and with staves under the high trees’ shade. But I left them all to come hither, for I serve at the King’s board to-day.”
But he made play with them though they cast stones and struck him as they laughed, and in the midst of laughter and their cries, as the rout followed him, he came to that hall where, at the Queen’s side, King Mark sat under his canopy.
And as he neared the door with his club at his neck, the King said:
“Here is a merry fellow, let him in.”
And they brought him in, his club at his neck. And the King said:
“Friend, well come; what seek you here?”
“Iseult,” said he, “whom I love so well; I bring my sister with me, Brunehild, the beautiful. Come, take her, you are weary of the Queen. Take you my sister and give me here Iseult, and I will hold her and serve you for her love.”
“Oh! very high,” he said, “between the clouds and heaven, into a fair chamber glazed. The beams of the sun shine through it, yet the winds do not trouble it at all. There would I bear the Queen into that crystal chamber of mine all compact of roses and the morning.”
The King and his barons laughed and said:
“Here is a good fool at no loss for words.”
But the fool as he sat at their feet gazed at Iseult most fixedly.
“Friend,” said King Mark, “what warrant have you that the Queen would heed so foul a fool as you?”
“O! Sire,” he answered gravely, “many deeds have I done for her, and my madness is from her alone.”
“What is your name?” they said, and laughed.
“Tristan,” said he, “that loved the Queen so well, and still till death will love her.”
But at the name the Queen angered and weakened together, and said: “Get hence for an evil fool!”
But the fool, marking her anger, went on:
“Queen Iseult, do you mind the day, when, poisoned by the Morholt’s spear, I took my harp to sea and fell upon your shore? Your mother healed me with strange drugs. Have you no memory, Queen?”
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