AGAIN SAW Tristan Brittany, Caret, the Duke of Hoel, and his wife,

white-armed Isolde. Everyone warmly greeted him, but the blond Isolde
drove away - and for him there was nothing left in the world. For a long time he
languished away from
her, but one day he decided to see her again, ready to have her again
ordered shamefully beat him to his guards and servants. He knew that away from her
death will inevitably and soon overtake him; so it's better to die immediately than
die slowly, every day. Who lives in sorrow is like a dead man. Tristan
wants death, longs for it. Let the queen at least know that he
died because of love for her; if she knew that, it would be easier for him to die.
He left Kare without telling anyone, neither relatives, nor friends, nor even
to his dear comrade Caerdin; he left, beggarly dressed, on foot. None
paid attention to the poor vagabonds that wander along the high roads. He
walked until he reached the seashore. In the harbor equipped for the journey
argosy; already the sailors were pulling the sails and hoisting the anchor,
to sail to the open sea.
- God bless you, good people, and happy path to you! In which
edge are you heading?
- To Tintagel.
- To Tintagel? Good people, take me with you!
He boards the ship. A fair wind blew the sails, and the ship sped away
on the waves; five nights and five days it sailed to Cornwall, and on the sixth
moored in the harbor of Tintagel.
Behind the harbor a castle towered over the sea, well fortified from all
sides.
sides: it was possible to enter it only through one iron door, and two
reliable watchmen guarded her day and night. How to get into the castle?
Tristan got off the ship and sat on the shore. He learned from a passerby
man that Mark is in the castle and has recently collected the court.
- And where is the queen and her beautiful servant Brangien?
- They are also in Tintagel, I saw them recently; Queen Nzolda seemed
sad as usual.
At the name of Iseult, Tristan sighed and thought that neither cunning nor
he will not be able to see his beloved again by his daring: after all, King Mark
will kill him...
"Is it all the same, even if he kills? Won't I die of love for you,
Isolde? And what do I do every day if I don't die? And you, Isolde, if
knew that I was here, would you agree to talk with your dear, not
Would you have ordered your guards to drive him out? I'm going to be cunning, I'll
dress as a holy fool:
this madness will be great wisdom. Another will take me for a fool, and
will not be smarter than me; He will consider me a fool who is himself even more
foolish.
A fisherman in a coarse woolen jacket with a large hood passed by.
Seeing him, Tristan made him a sign and took him aside:
- Friend, do you want to exchange your clothes for mine? Give me your jacket:
very
I like her.
The fisherman looked at Tristan's clothes, found them better than his own,
immediately took
her and quickly departed, rejoicing at the exchange.
Then Tristan shaved off his blond curls, leaving on his head
only a hair cross; smeared his face with a medicine from a miraculous herb,
brought from his country, and immediately his complexion and appearance changed so
it is amazing that not a single person in the world could recognize him. He threw
up in
garden boughs of a chestnut tree, made a stick out of it, hung it around his neck
and
barefoot went straight to the castle.
 To the gatekeeper he seemed, no doubt, mad, and he asked him:
- Come on. Where have you been for so long? Tristan responded by changing his
voice:
- At the wedding of the abbe of Mons, one of my friends. He married
abbess, a fat person in a veil.
From Besançon to Mons, all priests, abbots, monks and ecclesiastics
were invited to this wedding; and all of them, with sticks and staffs, jump,
they play and dance in the meadow under the shade of tall trees. But I left them
come here because today I am obliged to serve at the royal
meal.
“Come in, señor, son of shaggy Urgan,” the gatekeeper told him. -
You are big and hairy like him, and very much like your father.
When Tristan entered the castle, playing with his club, the servants and the
stables
crowded around him and began to poison him like a wolf.
- Look at the madman, woo-hoo!
They threw stones at him, beat him with sticks, but he endured it,
jumping, giving himself to their will; if attacked from the left, he
turned around and beat with a stick to the right.
Amidst laughter and shouting, dragging the disordered crowd along with him, he
reached
to the threshold of the hall, where under a canopy next to the queen sat King Mark.
He
went to the door, hung his cudgel around his neck, and went in.
Seeing him, the king said:
- That's a nice conversationalist. Let it come closer. He was brought in with
a stick
neck.
- Hello, my friend! Mark said. Tristan replied, to the extreme
changing voice:
- Sovereign, the kindest and noblest of all kings, but he knew that
when I see you, my heart will melt with tenderness. May God help you
glorious lord!
- Why did you come here, my friend?
- For Isolde, whom I loved so much, I have a sister, whom I
brought, beautiful Brünhilde {Brünhilde is a warrior maiden,
German-Scandinavian mythology and epic.}. The queen is tired of you, try
this one. Let's exchange: and I will give you my sister, and you give me Isolde; I
will take it and
I will serve you faithfully.
The king laughed.
- If I give you the queen, what will you do with her, where
take away?
- There, up, between the sky and the cloud, in my lovely crystal
housing. The sun penetrates it with its rays, the winds cannot
shake; there I will carry the queen, to the crystal peace, blooming with roses,
shining in the morning when the sun shines on it.
The king and the barons say among themselves:
- You are a nice fool, a master of words! He sat down on the carpet and gently
looks
to Isolde.
“Friend,” Mark said to him, “where did your hope come from that my
wife will pay attention to such an ugly fool as you?
- I have a right to that: I have worked hard for her, because of her and with
gone crazy.
- Who are you?
- I am Tristan, who loved the queen so much and will love her to death.
At this name, Isolde sighed, changed her face and angrily said
to him:
 - Get out! Who brought you here? Get out, you wicked fool!
He noticed her anger and said:
- Do you remember, Queen Isolde, the day when, wounded
with the poisoned sword of Morold, taking my harp with me into the sea, I
accidentally
landed on Irish shores? You healed me. Don't you remember this
more?
- Get out of here, fool! Isolde replied. - I don't like your
jokes, not yourself.
Here the madman turned to the barons and drove them to the door, shouting:
- Get out of here, fools! Let me talk to Isolde alone: after all, I
came here to have mercy on her.
The king laughed, and Iseult blushed and said:
Drive this madman away, my lord!
And he continued in his strange voice:
- Do you remember, Queen Isolde, the big dragon that I killed
in your country? I hid his tongue in my pocket and, completely scorched by his
poison,
fell in the swamp. Marvelous then I was a knight! .. And I was waiting for death
when you came
to help me.
- Shut up! Isolde replied. - You insult the knights, you are obsessed with
birth. Cursed be the sailors who brought you here instead of
to throw into the sea!
The holy fool laughed out loud and continued:
- And do you remember, Queen Isolde, how, while bathing, you
wanted to kill me with my own sword, and the tale of the golden hair, which I
reassured, and how I protected you from the seneschal?
"Shut up, evil narrator!" Why did you come here with your nonsense?
You got drunk last night, and the hops must have inspired these dreams in you.
- True, I'm drunk, and from such a drink that intoxication is never
will pass. Do you remember, Queen Isolde, that wonderful, hot day in
open sea? You were thirsty - do you remember, the king's daughter? We
both drank from the same goblet. Since then I have always been drunk and bad
intoxication...
When Isolde heard these words, which she alone could understand, she
covered her head with a mantle, got up and wanted to leave, but the king held her
by
ermine hood and forced me to sit next to him again:
- Wait a little, dear Isolde, let me hear his nonsense to the end.
- What skills do you know, holy fool?
“I have served kings and counts.
- Indeed? do you know how to hunt with dogs, with birds?
- Of course, when it occurs to me to hunt in the forest, I can
to catch with my bloodhounds cranes that fly in the sky, with greyhounds -
swans, white geese, wild pigeons, with my bow - dives and drink.
Everyone laughed good-naturedly, and the king asked:
- And what do you get, my friend, when you go hunting for river game?
- I take everything I find: with hawks - forest wolves and big bears,
with gyrfalcons - wild boars, with falcons - chamois and fallow deer, foxes - with
kites,
hares - with falcons; and when I return to the one who renders me
hospitality, I am good at playing with a club, endowing the stables
tune my harp and sing to the music, love queens and throw in the stream
well-cut chips. Indeed, am I not a good minstrel?
Today you saw how I can fight with a stick.
And he began to swing it around him.
“Get out of here,” he shouted, “Cornish lords!” What else
are you waiting? Aren't you full yet, not full?
 Having had fun with the fool, the king ordered a horse and hawks to be served,
and took
with him to hunt knights and stables.
“Sir,” Isolde told him, “I feel tired and
upset. Let me rest in my room, I can't listen anymore
those stupid jokes.
She retired, thinking, to her room, sat down on the bed, and
tanned:
- I'm unhappy! What was I born for? My heart is heavy and
sadly. Brangiena, dear sister, my life is so hard and cruel that
it would be better to die. There's some lunatic with a cross hair came
at an unkind hour; this holy fool, this juggler is a magician or medicine man, he
is in
knows exactly everything about me, about my life; knows what no one else knows
except for you, me and Tristan; he learned it, vagabond, by divination and sorcery.
Brangien replied:
- Isn't it Tristan himself?
- Not! Tristan is beautiful and the best of knights, but this man is ugly and
vile. May he be cursed by God! Cursed be the hour of his birth,
cursed is the ship that brought him instead of drowning him there, far away, in
deep waves!
“Calm yourself, queen,” said Brangien, “today you only
know what to curse and excommunicate. Where did you learn such a thing? But maybe
could this man be Tristan's messenger?
I don't think I recognized him. But follow him dear, talk to
him, see if you recognize him.
Brangiena went to the hall, where only the holy fool, who was sitting on
bench. Tristan recognized her, threw down his stick and said:
- Brangiena, noble Brangiena, I conjure you by God, have pity
me!
"Which devil taught you my name, you nasty fool?"
- I've known him for a long time, beautiful! I swear by my head, once blond,
- if her mind has left her, then you are to blame, beauty. Shouldn't you
protect the love potion I drank on the high seas? It was hot, I took a sip
from a silver goblet and gave it to Isolde. You alone know this, beauty,
don't you remember it more?
"No," answered Brangien, and, agitated, sprinkled herself towards the room.
Isolde.
But the lunatic ran after her, shouting, "Have pity!"
He entered, saw Isolde, rushed to her, holding out his arms, and wanted to
press
her to her chest, but, ashamed, all in a cold sweat from excitement, she
leaned back, avoiding him. Seeing her moving away from him. Tristan
trembled with shame and anger, went to the wall by the door and said to his
no still changed voice:
- Yes, I lived too long if I lived to see the day when Isolde me
repels, does not honor love. despises me. Oh, Isolde, who is strong
loves, does not soon forget! Oh, Isolde, a full-flowing stream is beautiful and
expensive,
which spills and runs in wide light waves; when it dries it
good for nothing. Such is the love that has dried up. Isolde replied:
- I look at you, friend, and I doubt, I tremble, I'm not sure, I don't
recognize
Tristan.
- Queen Isolde, I am Tristan - the one who loved you so much, or not
remember that dwarf who sprinkled flour between our beds, my
jump, the blood that flowed from my wound, the gift that I sent you -
petit cru dog with a magic rattle? Or do you not remember skillfully
chipped wood that I threw into the stream?
 Isolde looks at him, sighs, wondering what to say and what
believe; she sees perfectly well that he knows everything, but it would be madness
recognize him as Tristan. And he tells her:
- Queen and mistress, I see clearly that you have abandoned me, and I accuse
you in treason. I have known, however, the days, beauty, when you loved me
sincerely: it was in a dark forest, under a leafy vault. Do you remember the one
the day I gave you my dog, dear Husden? Oh he always got me
loved and for my sake would have left the blond Isolde. Where is he? What are you
with him
made? He would at least recognize me.
- Would he recognize you? You are talking nonsense. Ever since Tristan left
he always lies there, in his kennel, and rushes at anyone who comes up
to him, Brangiena, bring him to me.
Brangien brought the dog.
- Come here, Husden, - said Tristan. - You were mine, I'll take you
again.
When Husden heard his voice, he broke loose with the leash from his hands.
Brangien, ran to his master, began to spin at his feet, lick him
hands barking for joy.
- Husden! - exclaimed the holy fool. - Blessed is the work that I
spent raising you! You accepted me better than the one I loved so much.
She doesn't want to recognize me, will she even recognize this ring of green
jasper, which she once gave me, crying and kissing me, on the day of parting?
This little jasper ring was never parted from me: I often asked
I have his advice in my sorrows, often irrigated the green jasper with bitter
tears.
Isolde saw the ring. She opened her arms wide.
- Here I am! Take me Tristan!
Then Tristan stopped changing his voice.
- Honey, how could you not recognize me for so long - longer than this
dog? Is it in the ring? Don't you think I'd be happier
if you recognized me at one reminder of a former love?
Is it the sound of my voice? The sound of my heart is what you should
would hear!
“My dear,” said Isolde, “perhaps I heard him before
you think, but we are surrounded by intrigues; could I, like this dog, follow
your attraction, putting you in danger of being caught and killed on my
eyes? I took care of myself, I took care of you. Neither yours, a reminder of the
past
life, neither the sound of your voice, nor this ring itself, nothing to me
prove, since all this may be the evil deed of the magician. But at the sight
ring I give up. Haven't I sworn that as soon as I respect him, at least I
perish, I will do whatever you wish, whether wisely or foolishly? Wisely
or crazy - I'm yours; take me Tristan!
She fell senseless on her lover's chest. When she came to her senses
Tristan held her in his arms, kissed her eyes and face. He went in with her
canopy. In his hands he held the queen.

To amuse the holy fool, the servants sheltered him under the stairs of the
hall, as
dog in a kennel. He humbly endured their taunts and blows, because sometimes,
having assumed his former appearance and beauty, he walked from his lair to the
chambers
queens.
But a few days later, two maids suspected deception and warned
Andreta. He assigned three well-armed watchmen to the women's quarters.
When Tristan wanted to enter him, they shouted:
- Get back, fool! Come back to your straw!
- What is it, glorious seigneurs? - said the holy fool. - Is it tonight
shouldn't I have mercy on the queen? Don't you know that she loves me and
waiting?
Tristan swung his stick. The servants got scared and let him pass. He
took Isolde into his arms.
- I must run, dear, for soon they will recognize me, I must run, and, without
Doubt I'll never go back. My death is near: away from you I will die
with longing.
- Hold me tight, my dear, and press so hard that in this
embrace our hearts burst and souls flew away! Take me to happy
the country of which you once spoke: to a country from where no one
returns, where marvelous singers sing endless songs. Take me away!
- Yes, I will take you to a happy land of the living. The deadline is
approaching: are we
did not drink with you all the grief and all the joy? The deadline is drawing near.
When it comes and
I will call you, Isolde, will you come?
- Call me friend. You know that I will come.
- May the Lord reward you for this, dear!
When he left the room, the watchers rushed at him, but the holy fool
laughed out loud, twirled his stick and shouted:
- Are you driving me, glorious seigneurs? What is it for? I have nothing here
anymore
to do, for my mistress sends me far away to prepare her a bright
the peace that I promised her, crystal peace, blooming with roses, shining
in the morning when the sun shines on it.
- Go, fool, in an unkind hour!
The servants parted, and the holy fool slowly walked out, dancing.