anguished, till on a day he must needs
see her again. Far from her, death came surely; and he had rather die
at once than day by day. And he desired some death, but that the Queen
might know it was in finding her; then would death come easily.

So he left Carhaix secretly, telling no man, neither his kindred nor
even Kaherdin, his brother in arms. He went in rags afoot (for no one
marks the beggar on the high road) till he came to the shore of the
sea.

He found in a haven a great ship ready, the sail was up and the
anchor-chain short at the bow.

"God save you, my lords," he said, "and send you a good journey. To
what land sail you now?"

"To Tintagel," they said.

Then he cried out:

"Oh, my lords! take me with you thither!"

And he went aboard, and a fair wind filled the sail, and she ran five
days and nights for Cornwall, till, on the sixth day, they dropped
anchor in Tintagel Haven. The castle stood above, fenced all around.
There was but the one armed gate, and two knights watched it night and
day. So Tristan went ashore and sat upon the beach, and a man told him
that Mark was there and had just held his court.

"But where," said he, "is Iseult, the Queen, and her fair maid,
Brangien?"

"In Tintagel too," said the other, "and I saw them lately; the Queen
sad, as she always is."

At the hearing of the name, Tristan suffered, and he thought that
neither by guile nor courage could he see that friend, for Mark would
kill him.

And he thought, "Let him kill me and let me die for her, since every
day I die. But you, Iseult, even if you knew me here, would you not
drive me out?" And he thought, "I will try guile. I will seem mad, but
with a madness that shall be great wisdom. And many shall think me a
fool that have less wit than I."

Just then a fisherman passed in a rough cloak and cape, and Tristan
seeing him, took him aside, and said:

"Friend, will you not change clothes?"

And as the fisherman found it a very good bargain, he said in answer:

"Yes, friend, gladly."

And he changed and ran off at once for fear of losing his gain. Then
Tristan shaved his wonderful hair; he shaved it close to his head and
left a cross all bald, and he rubbed his face with magic herbs
distilled in his own country, and it changed in colour and skin so
that none could know him, and he made him a club from a young tree
torn from a hedge-row and hung it to his neck, and went bare-foot
towards the castle.

The porte