The Romance of Tristan: The Tale of Tristan's Madness (Classics)

by Beroul

  An unmistakable aspect of Beroul’s artistry is his ability to create and sustain humour of all kinds, varying from broad farce to subtle irony. Probably the episode most likely to produce guffaws from the audience is the farcical account of the arrival of all the people of Cornwall at the mud-covered place where Yseut is to vindicate herself (pp. 129–34). Tristan, disguised as a leper, makes a very creditable buffoon and succeeds in getting alms from King Arthur and King Mark as well as making sure that the three barons end up squarely in the marsh – one of them indeed sinks so deep into the mud that only his hair can be seen standing on end. But there is a subtler kind of comedy in Beroul’s use of irony. The dramatic irony of Yseut’s two false declarations of loyalty to Mark has already been noticed, and the irony of ‘The Tryst under the Tree’ is recalled in Yseut’s conversation with Mark afterwards when she innocently asks the king (p. 57): ‘Were you in the pine tree, then, sire?’ Mark is again the victim of an ironical combination of circumstances when he discovers the lovers asleep in the forest and is convinced by their chaste attitudes of their innocence (p. 92). Nothing could be further from the truth than Mark’s inference on that occasion; and the irony is here pointed up by the episode a few pages before (p. 87) when Governal kills one of the barons and brings his head to show Tristan and Yseut, for when Governal comes into the bower the lovers are tightly clasped in each other’s arms, which indicates incidentally that Beroul was not altogether careless about structure.

  It may even be suggested that Beroul’s whole conception of the story is ironical, for there is an undercurrent of ambiguity running through the poem. The central theme of the love potion is certainly tinged with ambiguity as Beroul presents it: when Tristan and Yseut are on the voyage from Ireland to Cornwall (if we may trust the reconstructed version) they drink a magic potion which causes them to fall instantly in love; at the same time, it is an exceedingly hot day when they drink the potion, their ship is becalmed and the young and handsome pair are separated only by a chess-board. Later in the story, when Tristan correctly submits to being taken captive by the three barons, he expects a judicial combat to be the outcome, and his trust in God is great; at the same time he knows he is the strongest knight at Mark’s court, and he later offers to defend Yseut in combat against the accusation of having loved him wrongfully with the knowledge, as Friar Ogrin points out, that no one is likely to oppose him. When the love potion wears off suddenly, both Tristan and Yseut regret the harm they have done King Mark and think of making amends by returning to his court; at the same time, they have been in the forest for a long time, always on the move for fear of being captured, they have been short of food and they have become thin and pale, which is the last detail mentioned by the poet before he announces the potion’s limited efficacy (p. 95).

  Even from this summary recapitulation of a few events, it does not need a cynic to realize that the whole presentation of the love theme is open to an ambiguous interpretation. It would, however, be falsifying the perspective of Beroul’s poem to carry this a stage further and suggest that the story might take place without the love potion and without God’s help, for this is not the way Beroul told the story. How much weight should be given to the ambiguities is one of the mysteries of the poem, and it is for each reader to give his own answer. Beroul himself was content to tell the story.

  THE TALE OF TRISTAN’S MADNESS

  This short anonymous poem relates one of the later episodes in the legend, in which Tristan, disguised as a madman, comes from Brittany to Cornwall to see Yseut, gains entrance to Mark’s court, and then tries to get himself recognized by Yseut by making a number of allusions to their past life together. This poem suffers, like Beroul’s, from the disadvantage of being preserved in a single, faulty manuscript, and the two poems have a number of practical problems in common as well as certain stylistic similarities.*

  This poem seems to have its place in the same aesthetic framework as Beroul’s and it would be idle to repeat here remarks already made on that subject. A single example will suffice to illustrate to what extent purely narrative considerations outweigh other factors: when Tristan is speaking to Mark in the presence of Yseut and the whole court (p. 155), he alludes to the time when Mark discovered the lovers asleep in the forest. Now this event could only be known to the three people concerned, and a quicker-thinking Mark would realize that this must be Tristan speaking and would take him captive forthwith. But Mark does not, and we must assume that it was the audacity of this allusion rather than the improbability of Mark’s ignoring it that struck the poet’s audience.

  NOTE ON THE TRANSLATION

  Lacunas exist in the manuscripts of both poems. Where possible, the missing words have been supplied on the basis of a comparison with other Tristan poems, and these passages are enclosed in square brackets. The spelling of all names has been regularized and left in the Old French form, except where there is a familiar English form, as Arthur, Gawain. In the original the use of tenses seems to be somewhat capricious: there seemed to be no point in trying to reproduce the wide range of variations and the narrative of this translation is set uniformly in the past.

  In general I have tried to strike a balance between a version which is readable in Modern English prose and one which is still recognizably Beroul’s poem. All projects of this kind are doomed to fall short in some way or other, perhaps in this case chiefly because stories are no longer told in the way Beroul told his. Some of Beroul’s characteristic features I have scarcely attempted to reproduce: the elliptical syntax and occasional parataxis have normally been expanded to bring them into line with modern practice, although I have in principle avoided making Beroul’s sentences more complex by introducing subordinating conjunctions where the original has none; and the abruptness of Beroul’s style has been somewhat lessened for the sake of clarity.

  Many of the best things in Beroul are inevitably lost, but I trust that enough will remain to enable the reader at least to glimpse through the distorting perspective of a translation something of the vigour and artistry of this fine twelfth-century poem.

  A. S. F.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  It is first of all a pleasure to thank the co-editor of this series, Robert Baldick, for his constant helpfulness, not to mention a willingness to overlook delays from time to time. For my studies of the Tristan romances, and particularly Beroul, I am greatly indebted to the following scholars and friends: J. P. Collas, N. S. Duncan, A. T. Hatto, Elspeth Kennedy, E. Vinaver, F. Whitehead, Gweneth Whitteridge, D. F. Whitton. It goes without saying that if I had listened more carefully to their generously given counsel this book would have been much better, and that only I am to blame for the faults it contains.

  In preparing the book for publication I gratefully acknowledge a special debt to two friends at London University: Dafydd Evans, who not only offered many useful suggestions in the course of this work but has always been at hand with friendly advice; and Patricia M. Harry, who read the entire book in typescript and who gave much invaluable help during the period of its preparation.

  Finally, I wish to thank Maria Courie, but for whom this book could not have appeared.

  Gloucester, Massachusetts

  1969

  A. S. F.

  THE ROMANCE OF TRISTAN

  1

  TRISTAN’S BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD*

  Once upon a time, King Mark reigned over Cornwall. Rivalen, King of Lyoness, learned that Cornwall was being attacked and crossed the sea to come to Mark’s aid. Rivalen served King Mark so well that as a reward he was given the hand of Mark’s sister, Blanchefleur, with whom he had fallen in love. They were married in Tintagel, but news of an attack on his own land immediately recalled Rivalen to Lyoness. Soon after Rivalen had defeated his enemies Blanchefleur gave birth to a son, but amid great lamentation died in childbirth. The child born in sorrow was named Tristan.

  Tristan’s father entrusted his upbringing to the care of a wise tutor, Governal, who instructed him in all the w
arlike and peaceful arts, as befitted a noble youth. When Tristan was in his early ’teens, he left his own country with Governal to seek adventure in other lands. He arrived at the court of his uncle, King Mark, at Tintagel in Cornwall. He concealed his identity, preferring to serve the king on the same footing as the other knights-bachelor. But his prowess and his accomplishments made him stand out above the rest, and he quickly became a favourite of the king’s and was liked and admired by all the courtiers, especially the king’s Seneschal, Dinas of Lidan. Tristan was soon ready to take the order of knighthood.

  MORHOLT OF IRELAND

  At this point Mark was suddenly threatened by the arrival at the port of Tintagel of Morholt, brother of the Queen of Ireland, come to demand payment of a tribute owed to Ireland by the Cornish. The tribute consisted of a number of young men and girls to be taken to Ireland as slaves. The grief of the Cornish people was augmented by the cowardly refusal of the barons of Cornwall to face Morholt in single combat to contest his claim to the tribute. Tristan learned of this and decided, after obtaining the approval of his tutor, to undertake the combat himself. Tristan then asked King Mark to knight him; the king agreed, but regretted that it should take place on such an unhappy occasion. Tristan was duly knighted. Messengers from Morholt came to Mark’s court and for the last time issued his challenge to meet a knight in single combat. The Cornish barons were again silent, and Tristan offered to do battle with Morholt; Mark was glad to consent to this. However, the Irish messengers declared that Morholt could not fight against an adversary who was not his equal in birth. Tristan then revealed his identity as a king’s son and Mark’s nephew. Mark was overjoyed at finding his nephew and tried to dissuade him from the dangerous undertaking; but he could not alter Tristan’s decision to fight, and the combat was arranged for a few days’ time on the Island of St Samson. On the day fixed, Morholt was first to arrive on the island, where he moored his small boat. Tristan soon followed him, but when he came to the shore and disembarked he pushed his boat out to sea instead of mooring it.

  ‘Why do you do that?’ asked Morholt.

  ‘Only one of us will need a boat when this combat is ended,’ said Tristan.

  Then began the long and fierce combat, watched from the mainland by Mark and his courtiers. Both knights were wounded many times in the struggle, until finally Tristan struck Morholt so hard that the blade of his sword pierced Morholt’s helmet and split his skull. The blade broke as Tristan withdrew it, leaving a splinter lodged in Morholt’s head. Mortally wounded, Morholt fled to his companions, while Tristan was brought back to land in triumph by Mark and the Cornish. Morholt died on the voyage back to Ireland and his companions were received with great sorrow. Morholt’s sister removed the splinter from his cranium and preserved it carefully.

  THE MIRACULOUS VOYAGE FOR HEALING

  The wounds Tristan had received in the combat were tended and all were healed save the one from Morholt’s poisoned spear. That wound became worse, and a smell began to issue from it which drove everyone away from his bedside, except the faithful Governal. Tristan finally despaired of being cured by human endeavours and resolved, as a last measure, to put his trust in God and set out alone in a boat without sails or oars, in the hope that God would guide him to a place where he might be cured. Mark at first opposed this plan, but eventually gave way and had a boat made ready.

  After a sad leave-taking in Cornwall, Tristan set out. He was at sea for many days and nights. At last he neared the coast of a strange country which he soon knew to be Ireland. He began to play his harp and attracted the attention of the Irish king, who came to speak to him. Tristan pretended to be a minstrel called Tantris, on a voyage in a merchant ship which had been attacked by pirates, who had given him a bad wound. The king took Tantris back to his palace where his wound was healed by the medicinal skill of the king’s daughter Yseut. Tristan was very much afraid of being recognized in Ireland as the slayer of Morholt and, as soon as he was well enough to travel, he returned to Cornwall.

  THE QUEST FOR YSEUT

  The barons at Mark’s court were making efforts to persuade the king to take a wife, for they were jealous of Tristan and feared that he would gain the inheritance if Mark died without children. Tristan offered to do all he could to find a wife for the king. Mark was unwilling to accede to his barons’ requests, and he attempted to evade a decision by means of the following stratagem: one day a swallow let a long fair hair fall from its beak in front of Mark, and the king promptly declared that he would only marry the woman to whom that hair belonged. The barons were angry at this trick, but Tristan at once undertook to set out with a few chosen companions on the strange quest for this woman.

  They set sail and it was not long before a storm blew them to the coast of Ireland, where they passed themselves off as merchants. Soon after their arrival they learned that the country was being laid waste by a dragon, which was doing so much harm that the Irish king had offered his daughter as a prize to the man who killed it. Unknown to his companions, Tristan set out to find the dragon and, after a fierce struggle, succeeded in killing it. He cut out its tongue and put it in his stocking; but the warmth made the poison in the tongue infuse Tristan’s body and he fell to the ground, senseless. As he lay there, the Irish king’s seneschal passed by and saw only the dead dragon. He hastily cut off its head and bore it triumphantly back to the palace, where he announced that he had slain the dragon. He thought that the dragon’s real slayer must have been killed, and he claimed Yseut as his prize. The Irish king was surprised at the unexpected prowess of his cowardly seneschal and imposed a delay of a few days. Yseut was distressed at the thought of marrying the seneschal and certain that he could not have killed the dragon. With her mother and two maidservants she went to where the dragon’s body lay, in the hope of finding its real slayer. They found Tristan, still unconscious, and without recognizing him took him back to the palace and tended his wounds. When he recovered his senses, Tristan told them he was the same Tantris they had looked after previously.

  One day when Tristan was in the bath Yseut began to clean his sword. She noticed the notch in the blade, and compared it with the splinter taken from Morholt’s skull. To her horror the piece fitted perfectly. She advanced angrily on Tristan, brandishing the sword and accusing him of being the slayer of her uncle. Tristan admitted this, but spoke quickly to calm Yseut. He said that he had killed Morholt in fair combat, and pointed out that if she killed him she would have to marry the seneschal since only he could prove the seneschal’s claim to be false. He finally calmed Yseut by telling her about the fair hair brought to King Mark by a swallow and of the quest he was engaged on. Yseut let Tristan live, and told her father that she had found the man who had really slain the dragon and that he would expose the seneschal’s lie. At an assembly held next day the seneschal attempted to uphold his claim, but was confuted when Tristan produced the dragon’s tongue. The Irish king learned Tristan’s identity and pardoned him. Yseut was given to Tristan as a reward, and he announced that he would take her to Cornwall to become the wife of King Mark.

  THE LOVE POTION

  Before they left Ireland, Yseut’s mother prepared a love potion which she entrusted to Brangain, Yseut’s maid, and instructed her to give it to Yseut and her husband to drink on their wedding night.

  Tristan and Yseut took leave of the Irish court and set out on the voyage to Cornwall. The third day was very hot and the ship was becalmed. While Tristan and Yseut were playing chess he called for a drink. By mistake, Brangain brought the love potion and handed it to Tristan, who drank and passed it to Yseut. Both thought it was good wine: neither knew that it held for them a lifetime of suffering and hardship and that it was to cause their destruction and their death. After some hesitation Tristan and Yseut confessed their love, and it was soon consummated.

  As the ship neared Cornwall, Tristan and Yseut began to fear that Mark would discover what had happened. Accordingly they begged Brangain to take Yseut’s place in Mark�
�s bed on the wedding night. The unfortunate girl was at first reluctant, but finally acquiesced. When the ship arrived at the port of Tintagel, Tristan and Yseut were warmly welcomed by Mark and his people. The king was much struck with Yseut’s beauty. The marriage of Mark and Yseut was celebrated soon after amid scenes of great festivity. When it was time for Mark and Yseut to retire Tristan conducted them to their chamber and extinguished all the lights, explaining that this was an Irish custom. Brangain took Yseut’s place in bed without Mark noticing the substitution; when the king was asleep Yseut replaced Brangain and the deception was successfully accomplished. As time went on Mark showed Yseut great tenderness. Tristan and Yseut were able to meet in secret, and no one suspected their love.

  THE ATTEMPTED MURDER OF BRANGAIN

  Yseut realized that Brangain constituted a potential danger, since she alone could betray the lovers to Mark. For her own safety, Yseut decided to have Brangain killed by two of her servants. One day they accompanied Brangain into the forest and suddenly drew their swords and seized her. Before killing her, they asked what wrong she had done to Yseut. She answered that her only misdeed was to lend Yseut a clean white tunic when Yseut’s was soiled. The two men felt pity for her and, instead of killing her, bound her to a tree. They returned to Yseut and related what Brangain had told them. Yseut was deeply touched by Brangain’s loyalty and at once ordered the men to bring her back. When Brangain appeared Yseut was overcome with remorse and begged her forgiveness. A reconciliation took place.

  THE HARP AND THE ROTE