t think to return to it, and do not repass its moat or boundaries.
Felons have charged you with an awful treason, but ask me nothing; I
could not speak their words without shame to us both, and for your
part seek you no word to appease. I have not believed them ... had I
done so ... But their evil words have troubled all my soul and only by
your absence can my disquiet be soothed. Go, doubtless I will soon
recall you. Go, my son, you are still dear to me.

When the felons heard the news they said among themselves, "He is
gone, the wizard; he is driven out. Surely he will cross the sea on
far adventures to carry his traitor service to some distant King."

But Tristan had not strength to depart altogether; and when he had
crossed the moats and boundaries of the Castle he knew he could go no
further. He stayed in Tintagel town and lodged with Gorvenal in a
burgess' house, and languished oh! more wounded than when in that past
day the shaft of the Morholt had tainted his body.

In the close towers Iseult the Fair drooped also, but more wretched
still. For it was hers all day long to feign laughter and all night
long to conquer fever and despair. And all night as she lay by King
Mark's side, fever still kept her waking, and she stared at darkness.
She longed to fly to Tristan and she dreamt dreams of running to the
gates and of finding there sharp scythes, traps of the felons, that
cut her tender knees; and she dreamt of weakness and falling, and that
her wounds had left her blood upon the ground. Now these lovers would
have died, but Brangien succoured them. At peril of her life she found
the house where Tristan lay. There Gorvenal opened to her very gladly,
knowing what salvation she could bring.

So she found Tristan, and to save the lovers she taught him a device,
nor was ever known a more subtle ruse of love.

Behind the castle of Tintagel was an orchard fenced around and wide
and all closed in with stout and pointed stakes and numberless trees
were there and fruit on them, birds and clusters of sweet grapes. And
furthest from the castle, by the stakes of the pallisade, was a tall
pine-tree, straight and with heavy branches spreading from its trunk.
At its root a living spring welled calm into a marble round, then ran
between two borders winding, throughout the orchard and so, on, till
it flowed at last within the castle and through the women's rooms.

And every evening, by Brangien's counsel, Tristan cut him twigs