King Mark took it, and called his barons and Tristan and said: 

“To please you, lords, I will take a wife; but you must seek her whom I have chosen.”

“Fair lord, we wish it all,” they said, “and who may she be?”

“Why,” said he, “she whose hair this is; nor will I take another.”

“And whence, lord King, comes this Hair of Gold; who brought it and from what land?”

“It comes, my lords, from the Lady with the Hair of Gold, the swallows brought it me.  They know from what country it came.”

Then the barons saw themselves mocked and cheated, and they turned with sneers to Tristan, for they thought him to have counselled the trick.  But Tristan, when he had looked on the Hair of Gold, remembered Iseult the Fair and smiled and said this: 

“King Mark, can you not see that the doubts of these lords shame me?  You have designed in vain.  I will go seek the Lady with the Hair of Gold.  The search is perilous:  never the less, my uncle, I would once more put my body and my life into peril for you; and that your barons may know I love you loyally, I take this oath, to die on the adventure or to bring back to this castle of Tintagel the Queen with that fair hair.”

He fitted out a great ship and loaded it with corn and wine, with honey and all manner of good things; he manned it with Gorvenal and a hundred young knights of high birth, chosen among the bravest, and he clothed them in coats of home-spun and in hair cloth so that they seemed merchants only:  but under the deck he hid rich cloth of gold and scarlet as for a great king’s messengers.

When the ship had taken the sea the helmsman asked him: 

“Lord, to what land shall I steer?”

“Sir,” said he, “steer for Ireland, straight for Whitehaven harbour.”

At first Tristan made believe to the men of Whitehaven that his friends were merchants of England come peacefully to barter; but as these strange merchants passed the day in the useless games of draughts and chess, and seemed to know dice better than the bargain price of corn, Tristan feared discovery and knew not how to pursue his quest.

Now it chanced once upon the break of day that he heard a cry so terrible that one would have called it a demon’s cry; nor had he ever heard a brute bellow in such wise, so awful and strange it seemed.  He called a woman who passed by the harbour, and said: 

“Tell me, lady, whence comes that voice I have heard, and hide me nothing.”

“My lord,” said she, “I will tell you truly.  It is the roar of a dragon the most terrible and dauntless upon earth.  Daily it leaves its den and stands at one of the gates of the city:  Nor can any come out or go in till a maiden has been given up to it; and when it has her in its claws it devours her.”

“Lady,” said Tristan, “make no mock of me, but tell me straight:  Can a man born of woman kill this thing?”