The Adventures of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse  Again King Arthur held high festival at Caerleon, at Pentecost, and gathered round him all the fellowship of the Round Table, and so, according to his custom, sat and waited till some adventure should arise, or some knight return to court whose deeds and perils might be told.
 
Anon he saw Sir Lancelot and a crowd of knights coming through the doors and leading in their midst the mighty knight, Sir Tristram. As soon as King Arthur saw him, he rose up and went through half the hall, and held out both his hands and cried, “Right welcome to thee, good Sir Tristram, as welcome art thou as any knight that ever came before into this court. A long time have I wished for thee amongst my fellowship.” Then all the knights and barons rose up with one accord and came around, and cried out, “Welcome.” Queen Guinevere came also, and many ladies with her, and all with one voice said the same.
 
Then the king took Sir Tristram by the hand and led him to the Round Table and said, “Welcome again for one of the best and gentlest knights in all the world; a chief in war, a chief in peace, a chief in field and forest, a chief in the ladies’ chamber—right heartily welcome to this court, and mayest thou long abide in it.”
 
When he had so said he looked at every empty seat until he came to what had been Sir Marhaus’, and there he found written in gold letters, “This is the seat of the noble knight, Sir Tristram.” Whereat they made him, with great cheer and gladness, a Fellow of the Round Table.
 
Now the story of Sir Tristram was as follows:—
 
There was a king of Lyonesse, named Meliodas, married to the sister of King Mark of Cornwall, a right fair lady and a good. And so it happened that King Meliodas hunting in the woods was taken by enchantment and made prisoner in a castle. When his wife Elizabeth heard it she was nigh mad with grief, and ran into the forest to seek out her lord. But after many days of wandering and sorrow she found no trace of him, and laid her down in a deep valley and prayed to meet her death. And so indeed she did, but ere she died she gave birth in the midst of all her sorrow to a child, a boy, and called him with her latest breath Tristram; for she said, “His name shall show how sadly he hath come into this world.”
 
Therewith she gave up her ghost, and the gentlewoman who was with her took the child and wrapped it from the cold as well as she was able, and lay down with it in her arms beneath the shadow of a tree hard by, expecting death to come to her in turn.
 
But shortly after came a company of lords and barons seeking for the queen, and found the lady and the child and took them home. And on the next day came King Meliodas, whom Merlin had delivered, and when he heard of the queen’s death his sorrow was greater than tongue can tell. And anon he buried her solemnly and nobly, and called the child Tristram as she had desired.
 
Then for seven years King Meliodas mourned and took no comfort, and all that time young Tristram was well nourished; but in a while he wedded with the daughter of Howell, King of Brittany, who, that her own children might enjoy the kingdom, cast about in her mind how she might destroy Tristram. So on a certain day she put poison in a silver cup, where Tristram and her children were together playing, that when he was athirst he might drink of it and die. But so it happened that her own son saw the cup, and, thinking it must hold good drink, he climbed and took it, and drank deeply of it, and suddenly thereafter burst and fell down dead.
 
When the queen heard that, her grief was very great, but her anger and envy were fiercer than before, and soon again she put more poison in the cup. And by chance one day her husband finding it when thirsty, took it up and was about to drink therefrom, when, seeing him, she sprang up with a mighty cry and dashed it from his hands.
 
At that King Meliodas, wondering greatly, called to mind the sudden death of his young child, and taking her fiercely by the hand he cried:
 
“Traitress, tell me what drink is in this cup or I will slay thee in a moment;” and therewith pulling out his sword he swore by a great oath to slay her if she straightway told him not the truth.
 
“Ah, mercy, lord,” said she, and fell down at his feet; “mercy, and I will tell thee all.”
 
And then she told him of her plot to murder Tristram, that her own sons might enjoy the kingdom.
 
“The law shall judge thee,” said the king.
 
And so anon she was tried before the barons, and condemned to be burnt to death.
 
But when the fire was made, and she brought out, came Tristram kneeling at his father’s feet and besought of him a favour.
 
“Whatsoever thou desirest I will give thee,” said the king.
 
“Give me the life, then, of the queen, my stepmother,” said he.
 
“Thou doest wrong to ask it,” said Meliodas; “for she would have slain thee with her poisons if she could, and chiefly for thy sake she ought to die.”
 
“Sir,” said he, “as for that, I beseech thee of thy mercy to forgive it her, and for my part may God pardon her as I do; and so I pray thee grant me my boon, and for God’s sake hold thee to thy promise.”
 
“If it must be so,” said the king, “take thou her life, for to thee I give it, and go and do with her as thou wilt.”
 
Then went young Tristram to the fire and loosed the queen from all her bonds and delivered her from death.
 
And after a great while by his good means the king again forgave and lived in peace with her, though never more in the same lodgings.
 
Anon was Tristram sent abroad to France in care of one named Governale. And there for seven years he learned the language of the land, and all knightly exercises and gentle crafts, and especially was he foremost in music and in hunting, and was a harper beyond all others. And when at nineteen years of age he came back to his father, he was as lusty and strong of body and as noble of heart as ever man was seen.
 
Now shortly after his return it befell that King Anguish of Ireland sent to King Mark of Cornwall for the tribute due to Ireland, but which was now seven years behindhand. To whom King Mark sent answer, if he would have it he must send and fight for it, and they would find a champion to fight against it.
 
So King Anguish called for Sir Marhaus, his wife’s brother, a good knight of the Round Table, who lived then at his court, and sent him with a knightly retinue in six great ships to Cornwall. And, casting anchor by the castle of Tintagil, he sent up daily to King Mark for the tribute or the champion. But no knight there would venture to assail him, for his fame was very high in all the realm for strength and hardihood.
 
Then made King Mark a proclamation throughout Cornwall, that if any knight would fight Sir Marhaus he should stand at the king’s right hand for evermore, and have great honour and riches all the rest of his days. Anon this news came to the land of Lyonesse, and when young Tristram heard it he was angry and ashamed to think no knight of Cornwall durst assail the Irish champion. “Alas,” said he, “that I am not a knight, that I might match this Marhaus! I pray you give me leave, sir, to depart to King Mark’s court and beg of his grace to make me knight.”
 
“Be ruled by thy own courage,” said his father.
 
So Tristram rode away forthwith to Tintagil to King Mark, and went up boldly to him and said, “Sir, give me the order of knighthood and I will fight to the uttermost with Sir Marhaus of Ireland.”
 
“What are ye, and whence come ye?” said the king, seeing he was but a young man, though strong and well made both in body and limb.
 
“My name is Tristram,” said he, “and I was born in the country of Lyonesse.”
 
“But know ye,” said the king, “this Irish knight will fight with none who be not come of royal blood and near of kin to kings or queens, as he himself is, for his sister is the Queen of Ireland.”
 
Then said Tristram, “Let him know that I am come both on my father’s and my mother’s side of blood as good as his, for my father is King Meliodas and my mother was that Queen Elizabeth, thy sister, who died in the forest at my birth.”
 
When King Mark heard that he welcomed him with all his heart, and knighted him forthwith, and made him ready to go forth as soon as he would choose, and armed him royally in armour covered with gold and silver.
 
Then he sent Sir Marhaus word, “That a better man than he should fight with him, Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, son of King Meliodas and of King Mark’s own sister.” So the battle was ordained to be fought in an island near Sir Marhaus’ ships, and there Sir Tristram landed on the morrow, with Governale alone attending him for squire, and him he sent back to the land when he had made himself ready.
 
When Sir Marhaus and Sir Tristram were thus left alone, Sir Marhaus said, “Young knight Sir Tristram what doest thou here? I am full sorry for thy rashness, for ofttimes have I been assailed in vain, and by the best knights of the world. Be warned in time, return to them that sent thee.”
 
“Fair knight, and well-proved knight,” replied Sir Tristram, “be sure that I shall never quit this quarrel till one of us be overcome. For this cause have I been made knight, and thou shalt know before we part that though as yet unproved, I am a king’s son and first-born of a queen. Moreover I have promised to deliver Cornwall from this ancient burden, or to die. Also, thou shouldst have known, Sir Marhaus, that thy valour and thy might are but the better reasons why I should assail thee; for whether I win or lose I shall gain honour to have met so great a knight as thou art.”
Then they began the battle, and tilted at their hardest against each other.
 
Then they began the battle, and tilted at their hardest against each other, so that both knights and horses fell to the earth. But Sir Marhaus’ spear smote Sir Tristram a great wound in the side. Then, springing up from their horses, they lashed together with their swords like two wild boars. And when they had stricken together a great while they left off strokes and lunged at one another’s breasts and visors; but seeing this availed not they hurtled together again to bear each other down.
 
Thus fought they more than half the day, till both were sorely spent and blood ran from them to the ground on every side. But by this time Sir Tristram remained fresher than Sir Marhaus and better winded, and with a mighty stroke he smote him such a buffet as cut through his helm into his brain-pan, and there his sword stuck in so fast that thrice Sir Tristram pulled ere he could get it from his head. Then fell Sir Marhaus down upon his knees, and the edge of Sir Tristram’s sword broke off into his brain-pan. And suddenly when he seemed dead, Sir Marhaus rose and threw his sword and shield away from him and ran and fled into his ship. And Tristram cried out after him, “Aha! Sir knight of the Round Table, dost thou withdraw thee from so young a knight? it is a shame to thee and all thy kin; I would rather have been hewn into a hundred pieces than have fled from thee.”
 
But Sir Marhaus answered nothing, and sorely groaning fled away.
 
“Farewell, Sir knight, farewell,” laughed Tristram, whose own voice now was hoarse and faint with loss of blood; “I have thy sword and shield in my safe keeping, and will wear them in all places where I ride on my adventures, and before King Arthur and the Table Round.”
 
Then was Sir Marhaus taken back to Ireland by his company; and as soon as he arrived his wounds were searched, and when they searched his head they found therein a piece of Tristram’s sword; but all the skill of surgeons was in vain to move it out. So anon Sir Marhaus died.
 
But the queen, his sister, took the piece of sword-blade and put it safely by, for she thought that some day it might help her to revenge her brother’s death.
 
Meanwhile, Sir Tristram, being sorely wounded, sat down softly on a little mound and bled passing fast; and in that evil case was found anon by Governale and King Mark’s knights. Then they gently took him up and brought him in a barge back to the land, and lifted him into a bed within the castle, and had his wounds dressed carefully.
 
But for a great while he lay sorely sick, and was likely to have died of the first stroke Sir Marhaus had given him with the spear, for the point of it was poisoned. And, though the wisest surgeons and leeches—both men and women—came from every part, yet could he be by no means cured. At last came a wise lady, and said plainly that Sir Tristram never should be healed, until he went and stayed in that same country whence the poison came. When this was understood, the king sent Sir Tristram in a fair and goodly ship to Ireland, and by fortune he arrived fast by a castle where the king and queen were. And as the ship was being anchored, he sat upon his bed and harped a merry lay, and made so sweet a music as was never equalled.
 
When the king heard that the sweet harper was a wounded knight, he sent for him, and asked his name. “I am of the country of Lyonesse,” he answered, “and my name is Tramtrist;” for he dared not tell his true name lest the vengeance of the queen should fall upon him for her brother’s death.
 
“Well,” said King Anguish, “thou art right welcome here, and shalt have all the help this land can give thee; but be not anxious if I am at times cast down and sad, for but lately in Cornwall the best knight in the world, fighting for my cause, was slain; his name was Sir Marhaus, a knight of King Arthur’s Round Table.” And then he told Sir Tristram all the story of Sir Marhaus’ battle, and Sir Tristram made pretence of great surprise and sorrow, though he knew all far better than the king himself.
 
Then was he put in charge of the king’s daughter, La Belle Isault, to be healed of his wound, and she was as fair and noble a lady as men’s eyes might see. And so marvellously was she skilled in medicine, that in a few days she fully cured him; and in return Sir Tristram taught her the harp; so, before long, they two began to love each other greatly.
 
But at that time a heathen knight, Sir Palomedes, was in Ireland, and much cherished by the king and queen. He also loved mightily La Belle Isault, and never wearied of making her great gifts, and seeking for her favour, and was ready even to be christened for her sake. Sir Tristram therefore hated him out of measure, and Sir Palomedes was full of rage and envy against Tristram.
 
And so it befell that King Anguish proclaimed a great tournament to be held, the prize whereof should be a lady called the Lady of the Launds, of near kindred to the king: and her the winner of the tournament should wed in three days afterwards, and possess all her lands. When La Belle Isault told Sir Tristram of this tournament, he said, “Fair lady! I am yet a feeble knight, and but for thee had been a dead man now: what wouldest thou I should do? Thou knowest well I may not joust.”
 
“Ah, Tristram,” said she, “why wilt thou not fight in this tournament? Sir Palomedes will be there, and will do his mightiest; and therefore be thou there, I pray thee, or else he will be winner of the prize.”
 
“Madam,” said Tristram, “I will go, and for thy sake will do my best; but let me go unknown to all men; and do thou, I pray thee, keep my counsel, and help me to a disguise.”
 
So on the day of jousting came Sir Palomedes, with a black shield, and overthrew many knights. And all the people wondered at his prowess; for on the first day he put to the worse Sir Gawain, Sir Gaheris, Sir Agravaine, Sir Key, and many more from far and near. And on the morrow he was conqueror again, and overthrew the king with a hundred knights and the King of Scotland. But presently Sir Tristram rode up to the lists, having been let out at a privy postern of the castle, where none could see. La Belle Isault had dressed him in white armour and given him a white horse and shield, and so he came suddenly into the field as it had been a bright angel.
 
As soon as Sir Palomedes saw him he ran at him with a great spear in rest, but Sir Tristram was ready, and at the first encounter hurled him to the ground. Then there arose a great cry that the knight with the black shield was overthrown. And Palomedes sorely hurt and shamed, sought out a secret way and would have left the field; but Tristram watched him, and rode after him, and bade him stay, for he had not yet done with him. Then did Sir Palomedes turn with fury, and lash at Sir Tristram with his sword; but at the first stroke Sir Tristram smote him to the earth, and cried, “Do now all my commands, or take thy death.” Then he yielded to Sir Tristram’s mercy, and promised to forsake La Belle Isault, and for twelve months to wear no arms or armour. And rising up, he cut his armour off him into shreds with rage and madness, and turned and left the field: and Sir Tristram also left the lists, and rode back to the castle through the postern gate.
 
Then was Sir Tristram long cherished by the King and Queen of Ireland, and ever with La Belle Isault. But on a certain day, while he was bathing, came the queen with La Belle Isault by chance into his chamber, and saw his sword lie naked on the bed: anon she drew it from the scabbard and looked at it a long while, and both thought it a passing fair sword; but within a foot and a half of the end there was a great piece broken out, and while the queen was looking at the gap, she suddenly remembered the piece of sword-blade that was found in the brain-pan of her brother Sir Marhaus.
And running to her chamber, she sought in her casket for the piece of iron ... and fitted it in Tristram’s sword.
 
Therewith she turned and cried, “By my faith, this is the felon knight who slew thy uncle!” And running to her chamber she sought in her casket for the piece of iron from Sir Marhaus’ head and brought it back, and fitted it in Tristram’s sword; and surely did it fit therein as closely as it had been but yesterday broke out.
 
Then the queen caught the sword up fiercely in her hand, and ran into the room where Sir Tristram was yet in his bath, and making straight for him, had run him through the body, had not his squire, Sir Hebes, got her in his arms, and pulled the sword away from her.
 
Then ran she to the king, and fell upon her knees before him, saying, “Lord and husband, thou hast here in thy house that felon knight who slew my brother Marhaus!”
 
“Who is it?” said the king.
 
“It is Sir Tristram!” said she, “whom Isault hath healed.”
 
“Alas!” replied the king, “I am full grieved thereat, for he is a good knight as ever I have seen in any field; but I charge thee leave thou him, and let me deal with him.”
 
Then the king went to Sir Tristram’s chamber and found him all armed and ready to mount his horse, and said to him, “Sir Tristram, it is not to prove me against thee I come, for it were shameful of thy host to seek thy life. Depart in peace, but tell me first thy name, and whether thou slewest my brother, Sir Marhaus.”
 
Then Sir Tristram told him all the truth, and how he had hid his name, to be unknown in Ireland; and when he had ended, the king declared he held him in no blame. “Howbeit, I cannot for mine honour’s sake retain thee at this court, for so I should displease my barons, and my wife, and all her kin.”
 
“Sir,” said Sir Tristram, “I thank thee for the goodness thou hast shown me here, and for the great goodness my lady, thy daughter, hath shown me; and it may chance to be more for thy advantage if I live than if I die; for wheresoever I may be, I shall ever seek thy service, and shall be my lady thy daughter’s servant in all places, and her knight in right and wrong, and shall never fail to do for her as much as knight can do.”
 
Then Sir Tristram went to La Belle Isault, and took his leave of her. “O gentle knight,” said she, “full of grief am I at your departing, for never yet I saw a man to love so well.”
 
“Madam,” said he, “I promise faithfully that all my life I shall be your knight.”
 
Then Sir Tristram gave her a ring, and she gave him another, and after that he left her, weeping and lamenting, and went among the barons, and openly took his leave of them all, saying, “Fair lords, it so befalleth that I now must depart hence; therefore, if there be any here whom I have offended or who is grieved with me, let him now say it, and before I go I will amend it to the utmost of my power. And if there be but one who would speak shame of me behind my back, let him say it now or never, and here is my body to prove it on—body against body.”
 
And all stood still and said no word, though some there were of the queen’s kindred who would have assailed him had they dared.
 
So Sir Tristram departed from Ireland and took the sea and came with a fair wind to Tintagil. And when the news came to King Mark that Sir Tristram was returned, healed of his wound, he was passing glad, and so were all his barons. And when he had visited the king his uncle, he rode to his father, King Meliodas, and there had all the heartiest welcome that could be made him. And both the king and queen gave largely to him of their lands and goods.
 
Anon he came again to King Mark’s court, and there lived in great joy and pleasure, till within a while the king grew jealous of his fame, and of the love and favour shown him by all damsels. And as long as King Mark lived, he never after loved Sir Tristram, though there was much fair speech between them.
 
Then it befell upon a certain day that the good knight Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, brother to Sir Blamor de Ganis, and nigh cousin to Sir Lancelot of the Lake, came to King Mark’s court and asked of him a favour. And though the king marvelled, seeing he was a man of great renown, and a knight of the Round Table, he granted him all his asking. Then said Sir Bleoberis, “I will have the fairest lady in your court, at my own choosing.”
 
“I may not say thee nay,” replied the king; “choose therefore, but take all the issues of thy choice.”
 
So when he had looked around, he chose the wife of Earl Segwarides, and took her by the hand, and set her upon horseback behind his squire, and rode forth on his way.
 
Presently thereafter came in the earl, and rode out straightway after him in rage. But all the ladies cried out shame upon Sir Tristram that he had not gone, and one rebuked him foully and called him coward knight, that he would stand and see a lady forced away from his uncle’s court. But Sir Tristram answered her, “Fair lady, it is not my place to take part in this quarrel while her lord and husband is here to do it. Had he not been at this court, peradventure I had been her champion. And if it so befall that he speed ill, then may it happen that I speak with that foul knight before he pass out of this realm.”
 
Anon ran in one of Sir Segwarides’ squires, and told that his master was sore wounded, and at the point of death. When Sir Tristram heard that, he was soon armed and on his horse, and Governale, his servant, followed him with shield and spear.
 
And as he rode, he met his cousin Sir Andret, who had been commanded by King Mark to bring home to him two knights of King Arthur’s court who roamed the country thereabouts seeking adventures.
 
“What tidings?” said Sir Tristram.
 
“God help me, never worse,” replied his cousin; “for those I went to bring have beaten and defeated me, and set my message at naught.”
 
“Fair cousin,” said Sir Tristram, “ride ye on your way, perchance if I should meet them ye may be revenged.”
 
So Sir Andret rode into Cornwall, but Sir Tristram rode after the two knights who had misused him, namely, Sir Sagramour le Desirous, and Sir Dodinas le Savage. And before long he saw them but a little way before him.
 
“Sir,” said Governale, “by my advice thou wilt leave them alone, for they be two well-proved knights of Arthur’s court.”
 
“Shall I not therefore rather meet them?” said Sir Tristram, and, riding swiftly after them, he called to them to stop, and asked them whence they came, and whither they were going, and what they were doing in those marches.
 
Sir Sagramour looked haughtily at Sir Tristram, and made mocking of his words, and said, “Fair knight, be ye a knight of Cornwall?”
 
“Wherefore askest thou that?” said Tristram.
 
“Truly, because it is full seldom seen,” replied Sir Sagramour, “that Cornish knights are valiant with their arms as with their tongues. It is but two hours since there met us such a Cornish knight, who spoke great words with might and prowess, but anon, with little mastery, he was laid on earth, as I trow wilt thou be also.”
 
“Fair lords,” said Sir Tristram, “it may chance I be a better man than he; but, be that as it may, he was my cousin, and for his sake I will assail ye both; one Cornish knight against ye two.”
 
When Sir Dodinas le Savage heard this speech, he caught at his spear and said, “Sir knight, keep well thyself;” and then they parted and came together as it had been thunder, and Sir Dodinas’ spear split asunder; but Sir Tristram smote him with so full a stroke as hurled him over his horse’s crupper, and nearly brake his neck. Sir Sagramour, seeing his fellow’s fall, marvelled who this new knight might be, and dressed his spear, and came against Sir Tristram as a whirlwind; but Sir Tristram smote him a mighty buffet, and rolled him with his horse down on the ground; and in the falling he brake his thigh.
 
Then, looking at them both as they lay grovelling on the grass, Sir Tristram said, “Fair knights, will ye joust any more? Are there no bigger knights in King Arthur’s court? Will ye soon again speak shame of Cornish knights?”
 
“Thou hast defeated us, in truth,” replied Sir Sagramour, “and on the faith of knighthood I require thee tell us thy right name?”
 
“Ye charge me by a great thing,” said Sir Tristram, “and I will answer ye.”
 
And when they heard his name the two knights were right glad that they had met Sir Tristram, for his deeds were known through all the land, and they prayed him to abide in their company.
 
“Nay,” said he, “I must find a fellow-knight of yours, Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, whom I seek.”
 
“God speed you well,” said the two knights; and Sir Tristram rode away.
 
Soon he saw before him in a valley Sir Bleoberis with Sir Segwarides’ wife riding behind his squire upon a palfrey. At that he cried out aloud, “Abide, Sir knight of King Arthur’s court, bring back again that lady or deliver her to me.”
 
“I will not,” said Bleoberis, “for I dread no Cornish knight.”
 
“Why,” said Sir Tristram, “may not a Cornish knight do well as any other? This day, but three miles back, two knights of thy own court met me, and found one Cornish knight enough for both before we parted.”
 
“What were their names?” said Sir Bleoberis.
 
“Sir Sagramour le Desirous and Sir Dodinas le Savage,” said Sir Tristram.
 
“Ah,” said Sir Bleoberis, amazed; “hast thou then met with them? By my faith, they were two good knights and men of worship, and if thou hast beat both thou must needs be a good knight; but for all that thou shalt beat me also ere thou hast this lady.”
 
“Defend thee, then,” cried out Sir Tristram, and came upon him swiftly with his spear in rest. But Sir Bleoberis was as swift as he, and each bore down the other, horse and all, on to the earth.
 
Then they sprang clear of their horses, and lashed together full eagerly and mightily with their swords, tracing and traversing on the right hand and on the left more than two hours, and sometimes rushing together with such fury that they both lay grovelling on the ground. At last Sir Bleoberis started back and said, “Now, gentle knight, hold hard awhile, and let us speak together.”
 
“Say on,” said Sir Tristram, “and I will answer thee.”
 
“Sir,” said Sir Bleoberis, “I would know thy name, and court, and country.”
 
“I have no shame to tell them,” said Sir Tristram. “I am King Meliodas’ son, and my mother was sister to King Mark, from whose court I now come. My name is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse.” “Truly,” said Sir Bleoberis, “I am right glad to hear it, for thou art he that slew Sir Marhaus hand-to-hand, fighting for the Cornish tribute; and overcame Sir Palomedes at the great Irish tournament, where also thou didst overthrow Sir Gawain and his nine companions.”
 
“I am that knight,” said Sir Tristram, “and now I pray thee tell me thy name.”
 
“I am Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, cousin of Sir Lancelot of the Lake, one of the best knights in all the world,” he answered.
 
“Thou sayest truth,” said Sir Tristram; “for Sir Lancelot, as all men know, is peerless in courtesy and knighthood, and for the great love I bear to his name I will not willingly fight more with thee his kinsman.”
 
“In good faith, sir,” said Sir Bleoberis, “I am as loth to fight thee more; but since thou hast followed me to win this lady, I proffer thee kindness, courtesy, and gentleness; this lady shall be free to go with which of us she pleaseth best.”
 
“I am content,” said Sir Tristram, “for I doubt not she will come to me.”
 
“That shalt thou shortly prove,” said he, and called his squire, and set the lady in the midst between them, who forthwith walked to Sir Bleoberis and elected to abide with him. Which, when Sir Tristram saw, he was in wondrous anger with her, and felt that he could scarce for shame return to King Mark’s court. But Sir Bleoberis said, “Hearken to me, good knight, Sir Tristram, because King Mark gave me free choice of any gift, and because this lady chose to go with me, I took her; but now I have fulfilled my quest and my adventure, and for thy sake she shall be sent back to her husband at the abbey where he lieth.”
 
So Sir Tristram rode back to Tintagil, and Sir Bleoberis to the abbey where Sir Segwarides lay wounded, and there delivered up his lady, and departed as a noble knight.
 
After this adventure Sir Tristram abode still at his uncle’s court, till in the envy of his heart King Mark devised a plan to be rid of him. So on a certain day he desired him to depart again for Ireland, and there demand La Belle Isault on his behalf, to be his queen—for ever had Sir Tristram praised her beauty and her goodness, till King Mark desired to wed her for himself. Moreover, he believed his nephew surely would be slain by the queen’s kindred if he once were found again in Ireland.
 
But Sir Tristram, scorning fear, made ready to depart, and took with him the noblest knights that could be found, arrayed in the richest fashion.
 
And when they were come to Ireland, upon a certain day Sir Tristram gave his uncle’s message, and King Anguish consented thereto.
 
But when La Belle Isault was told the tidings she was very sorrowful and loth—yet made she ready to set forth with Sir Tristram, and took with her Dame Bragwaine, her chief gentlewoman. Then the queen gave Dame Bragwaine, and Governale, Sir Tristram’s servant, a little flask, and charged them that La Belle Isault and King Mark should both drink of it on their marriage day, and then should they surely love each other all their lives.
By the time they had finished drinking they loved each other so well that their love never more might leave them.
 
Anon, Sir Tristram and Isault, with a great company, took the sea and departed. And so it chanced that one day sitting in their cabin they were athirst, and saw a little flask of gold which seemed to hold good wine. So Sir Tristram took it up, and said, “Fair lady, this looketh to be the best of wines, and your maid, Dame Bragwaine, and my servant, Governale, have kept it for themselves.” Thereat they both laughed merrily, and drank each after other from the flask, and never before had they tasted any wine which seemed so good and sweet. But by the time they had finished drinking they loved each other so well that their love nevermore might leave them for weal or woe. And thus it came to pass that though Sir Tristram might never wed La Belle Isault, he did the mightiest deeds of arms for her sake only all his life.
 
Then they sailed onwards till they came to a castle called Pluere, where they would have rested. But anon there ran forth a great company and took them prisoners. And when they were in prison, Sir Tristram asked a k............