Tristan was now too weak to keep his watch from the cliff of the Penmarks, and for many long days, within walls, far from the shore, he had mourned for Iseult because she did not come. Dolorous and alone, he mourned and sighed in restlessness: he was near death from desire.
At last the wind freshened and the white sail showed. Then it was that Iseult of the White Hands took her vengeance.
She came to where Tristan lay, and she said: "Friend, Kaherdin is here. I have seen his ship upon the sea. She comes up hardly-yet I know her; may he bring that which shall heal thee, friend."
And Tristan trembled and said: "Beautiful friend, you are sure that the ship is his indeed? Then tell me what is the manner of the sail?"
"I saw it plain and well. They have shaken it out and hoisted it very high, for they have little wind. For its colour, why, it is black."
And Tristan turned him to the wall, and said: "I cannot keep this life of mine any longer." He said three times: "Iseult, my friend." And in saying it the fourth time, he died.
Then throughout the house, the knights and the comrades of Tristan wept out loud, and they took him from his bed and laid him on a rich cloth, and they covered his body with a shroud. But at sea the wind had risen; it struck the sail fair and full and drove the ship to shore, and Iseult the Fair set foot upon the land. She heard loud mourning in the streets, and the tolling of bells in the minsters and the chapel towers; she asked the people the meaning of the knell and of their tears. An old man said to her: "Lady, we suffer a great grief. Tristan, that was so loyal and so right, is dead. He was open to the poor; he ministered to the suffering. It is the chief evil that has ever fallen on this land."
But Iseult, hearing them, could not answer them a word. She went up to the palace, following the way, and her cloak was random and wild. The Bretons marvelled as she went; nor had they ever seen woman of such a beauty, and they said: "Who is she, or whence does she come?"
Near Tristan, Iseult of the White Hands crouched, maddened at the evil she had done, and calling and lamenting over the dead man. The other Iseult came in and said to her: "Lady, rise and let me come by him; I have more right to mourn him than have you-believe me. I loved him more."