When Tristan took the harp it was as if made for his hands, which (as I have said) were of surpassing beauty; for they were soft and smooth, fine and slender and dazzling white as ermine. Passing them over the strings he struck up some preludes and phrases, fine, sweet, and haunting, recapturing his lays of Arthur. Then, taking his key, he adjusted pegs and strings, some up, some down, until they were to his liking. This was soon done, and Tristan, the new minstrel, began his new office with his mind full upon it. He drew his snatches and preludes, his haunting initial flourishes so sweetly from his harp and made them so melodious with lovely string music, that all came running up, one calling another. The household arrived for the most part at a run. Nor did they think that they had come too soon.

Gottfried's Tristan