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When Tristram To Tintagel Came

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An Arthurian Miscellany

When Tristram with his fifty knights

On a midnight hour

Back to long Tintagel came,

Queen Iseult sate watching them

In the glare of the cresset-lights,

From her royal tower.

Hurry and hum of hoofs she had heard,

(Who sooner than she?)

And the chains in the gateway groaned and stirred,

Straining heavily;

And the mighty drawbridge downward swung

Massive and slow;

And through the vaulted archway rung

Voice and tread of steel-girt men,

When Tristram's knights came home again

In Cornwall long ago!

Over the drawbridge came the knights

Riding together,

Three abreast,

With clank of steel and rattle of leather

And flaunt of many a scarf and crest

In the windy flare of the dancing lights

Agleam on shining arms and mail;

But here and there, as they rode,

Was a sun-tanned face dead pale, -

Ay, there was rust and stain of blood,

And shoulder-high the splash of mud

When the watchers gave them hail.

'Greet ye well and true, Sir Tristram,

That ye come back from war!

Welcome to Cornwall's chivalry!

And how did ye fare?

'I give ye thanks,' Sir Tristram said,

'For your brave welcoming.

We have fought and gotten victory,

So good news I bring!

I greet ye well, fair gentlemen.

And whither is Mark the King?'

'Well is thee for victory,

Tristram, Sir Knight!

King Mark went out a-hunting

To-day at dawn-light;

And no more cometh he

Till the third night.'

Then waxed Sir Tristram

Right wroth with King Mark,

And bitter his smile was,

And his face grew dark.

'A strange thing is this,' said he,

'That Mark has done! -

But left he aught word for me?'

And they told him, 'None!'

'That is an ill thing!' Tristram said,

'And it grieves me full sore;

Here win we back with a dozen dead

And wounded a score, -

And Mark is out a-hunting gone

While I fight his war"

I trow me well, by Godis head,

It grieves me full sore!'

And here came a lady's lad

With golden curled hair,

Desiring of Tristram,

From Iseult, with courtesies,

To learn how he fare.

Then made he none else other word,

But bade his squire to him,

And did him off his great fell sword

And his harness hacked and grim,

And girt him with a chain of gold

And his long cloak of green,

And gat him as a gentle knight

To greet that fair queen.

All alone in her royal chamber

Iseult watched for him,

Where she screened candles made her

A light soft and dim;

They lit the beauty of her face

And the glory of her hair:

There was no maid in Christendom

Half so wondrous fair.

'Hail to thee, Tristram, back from thy warfare!

Home again come again, hero, to me!

Lone I have waited, fain for thy welfare,

Longing and praying, dear one, for thee!'

'Yea, I come again, O my belovd,

Back to Tintagel, home dear to thee.

In the red warfare thy will for my welfare,

Praying, has holpen and comforted me!'

'Comest thou spent from the foemen who pressed thee?'

'Yea, I am weary with travail of war!'

'Ah, lay thy head on my bosom and rest thee.'

'Dear, at thy touch, I am weary no more!'

He knelt before her knightly-wise

And kissed her finger-tips;

She kissed him once on either cheek

And twice upon the lips.

'And now,' quoth he, 'is dole on me,

That I may not abide with thee:

Iseult, mine own, I pray thee then,

Think me not graceless if I go,

For much is now for me to do

When home again come we;

And I wis my gallant gentlemen

Are calling for me!'

'Nay till this candle burn away,'

She said, 'O tarry thou, -

And that will be, as well we see,

Short while enough from now!'

And Tristram, watching near her, smiled

As one on whom old memories fall,

Saying, 'Iseult, art still a child

In spite of all, in spite of all!'

And low he sat him at her feet

And took in his the hand she gave,

And felt her presence, rare and sweet,

As ever sway him, till it drave

From sense and limb the weariness

Of battle and the road, and lent

Its lulling magic to caress

His soul with some divine content.

The pine-log smouldering on the hearth

Shone through the shaded gloom;

The flowers on her table thrilled

With drowsy, faint perfume.

They talked of battle and the chase,

They spake of life and love,

So that they saw no shadow

Across the dim wall more,

Neither behind them wist they

From the corner curtain-screened

King Mark out of the darkness

Creep with face of fiend!

'Tristram! - ah no -!' A gleam like silver swung

Downward and struck. And frozen on her tongue

The low cry died that warned him of his fate,

Ah God, too late, too late!

Too late she saw the shadowed image fall

Of a man's huge armed hand upon the wall,

And felt the presence clutch her heart, of one

Like doom behind them, silent, knowing all.

Dear Christ! too late she heard

That sudden gasp of sharply loosened breath

As sheer the great blade fell.

And Mark stood forth with face of flaming hell,

And they two looked on death

And spake no word.

paradise lost and paradise regained| paradise lost and paradise regained
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