Cornwall's Wonderland

by Mabel Quiller-Couch

So Sir Tristram returned at last to Cornwall, and there stayed with his uncle Mark, at Tintagel, and great were the rejoicings that he had returned recovered of his wound, and stronger and more noble-looking than ever.

When, though, he had been back a little time, a great quarrel arose between King Mark and his nephew, and their feelings grew very hot and angry towards one another. It was about a beautiful lady that they quarrelled, a lady whom King Mark loved more than passing well. He thought that Sir Tristram loved her too, and she him, and he was so jealous of Sir Tristram that one day he and his knights, disguised, rode after him to see if he had gone to meet her. And as Tristram came riding back King Mark bore down on him, and they fought until the king was so wounded that he lay on the ground as though dead, and Sir Tristram rode on his way. He never knew that it was his uncle with whom he had fought, but from that day to the day of his death, though they were fair-spoken to each other, the king never forgave his nephew or loved him again.

Indeed, he hated him so much that he ever plotted to injure him, and at last one day he thought of a plan by which he could ruin Tristram's happiness, and probably get him killed as well.

Now it happened that when Sir Tristram had first returned from Ireland he had told his uncle of La Belle Iseult, of her beauty, and grace, and skill; for his heart was ever filled with love and admiration for her, and to him she was the very fairest woman in the world. So to wound Sir Tristram, and to take a sore and cruel revenge upon him, King Mark determined to ask her in marriage for himself, and to make his cruelty the greater, he determined that Sir Tristram should be the knight who should go to Ireland as his ambassador to ask her hand of King Anguish, her father.

Sending for Sir Tristram he laid his commands upon him, rejoicing in the heavy task he was laying upon him, watching him closely to note how he would bear it. But Sir Tristram, though sad at heart and deeply troubled, bore himself bravely, and accepted the task; for to have refused it would have been a cowardice and a shame, and not the conduct of a true knight.

Without delay he set about preparing for his sad journey. He had made ready a large vessel, fitted in the most sumptuous manner possible, and taking with him some chosen knights dressed in the most goodly style, he set sail from Tintagel for Ireland. Before they had got far, though, a fierce storm burst over them, and beat their vessel about until she was driven back to England, to the coast of Camelot, where King Arthur dwelt, and right glad they were to take to the land.

There, when they were landed, Sir Tristram set up his tent, and hanging his shield without it, lay down to rest. Hardly, though, was he lain down, before two knights of the Round Table, Sir Ector de Maris and Sir Morganor, came and rapped on the shield, bidding him come forth and joust.

"Wait awhile," called back Sir Tristram, "and I will bring you my answer." Then he hastily dressed himself, and came out to the two impatient knights, and without much ado he first smote down Sir Ector and then Sir Morganor, with the same spear.

"Whence come you, and whose knight are you?" they asked as they lay on the ground, unable to rise because of their bruises.

"My lords," answered Sir Tristram, "I am from Cornwall."