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Then he went up to Tintagel and as he went the people he had freed waved green boughs, and rich cloths were hung at the s But when Tristan reached the castle with joy, songs and joy-bells sounding about hi Mark, for the blood ran from his wounds

The Morholt's men, they landed in Ireland quite cast down For when ever he came back into Whitehaven the Morholt had been wont to take joy in the sight of his clan upon the shore, of the Queen his sister, and of his niece Iseult the Fair Tenderly had they cherished him of old, and had he taken some wound, they healed him, for they were skilled in balic was vain, for he lay dead and the splinter of the foreign brand yet stood in his skull till Iseult plucked it out and shut it in a chest

From that day Iseult the Fair knew and hated the nauished, for there trickled a poisonous blood from his wound The doctors found that the Morholt had thrust into him a poisoned barb, and as their potions and their theriac could never heal him they left him in God's hands So hateful a stench came from his wound that all his dearest friends fled hi Mark, Gorvenal and Dinas of Lidan They always could stay near his couch because their love overcame their abhorrence At last Tristan had hi the sea he awaited death, for he thought: "I ood to see the sun and s all chances … I would have the sea bear me far off alone, to what land nothat King Mark accepted his desire He bore him into a boat with neither sail nor oar, and Tristan wished that his harp only should be placed beside him: for sails he could not lift, nor oar ply, nor sield; and as a seae casts to the sea a beloved companion dead, so Gorvenal pushed out to sea that boat where his dear son lay; and the sea drew hihts the sea so drew hirief, he harped; and when at last the sea brought hiht to fish far out, they heard as they rowed a sweet and strong and living tune that ran above the sea, and feathering their oars they listened immovable