e lady La Belle Isolde, and come
not near her. Second, for a year and a day you shall wear no armor or
weapons of war. Promise me this, or you shall die."

"This is a bitter penance," cried Palamides. "You shame me before the
world. For nothing less than life would I consent."

But he took the oath as Tristram commanded, and then in anger and
despite threw off his armor and cut it into pieces, flinging the
fragments away. Then he departed, weighed down with sadness and shame.

This done, Tristram left the lists, where he could find no knight
willing to fight with him, and rode to the private postern of the castle
whence he had come to the field. Here he found the fair Isolde awaiting
him with a joyous face and a voice of thanks, praising him so highly
that the knight was abashed with modest shame, though gladness filled
his heart. And when she had told the king and queen that it was
Tramtrist who had vanquished the Saracen, they treated him as if he had
been of royal blood, for he had shown such prowess as Lancelot himself
could not exceed.

After this Tristram dwelt long in the castle, highly esteemed by the
king and queen, and loved by La Belle Isolde, whose heart he had fully
won by his prowess in the tournament. Those were days of joy and
gladness, too soon, alas to end, for he loved her with all his soul, and
saw his heaven in her eyes, while for all his love she gave him the warm
devotion of a true heart in return.

But fate at length brought this dream of happiness to an end. For on a
day when Tristram was in the bath, attended by his squire Gouvernail,
chance brought the queen and Isolde into the chamber of the knight. On
the bed lay his sword, and this the queen picked up and held it out for
Isolde's admiration, as the blade which had done such noble work in the
tournament.

But as she held it so she saw that there was a gap in the edge, a piece
being broken out about a foot from the point. At sight of this she let
the weapon fall, while her heart gave a great bound of pain and anger.

"Liar and traitor, have I found you at last!" she cried, in an outbreak
of rage. "It is this false villain that slew my brother Marhaus!"

With these words she ran in haste from the chamber, leaving Isolde
trembling with dread for her lover, for though she knew not the cause of
the queen's rage, she knew well how cruel she could be in her passion.

Quickly the queen returned, bringing with her the fragment of steel that