Then came Gouvernail, Sir Tristram's squire, and bore his master
back to land, where Mark and all the Cornish lords came to meet him
and convey him to the castle of Tintagil. Far and wide they sent
for surgeons to dress Sir Tristram's wound, but none might help
him, and ever he grew weaker. At the last, a wise woman told King
Mark that in that land alone whence came the poisoned spear could
Sir Tristram find cure. Then the King gave orders and a ship was
made ready with great stores of rich furnishings, to convey Sir
Tristram to Ireland, there to heal him of his wound.

CHAPTER XIII

THE FAIR ISOLT

Thus Tristram sailed to Ireland, and when he drew nigh the coast,
he called for his harp, and sitting up on his couch on the deck,
played the merriest tune that was ever heard in that land. And the
warders on the castle wall, hearing him, sent and told King Anguish
how a ship drew near with one who harped as none other might. Then
King Anguish sent knights to convey the stranger into the castle.
So when he was brought into the King's presence, Tristram declared
that he was Sir Tramtrist of Liones, lately made knight, and
wounded in his first battle; for which cause he was come to
Ireland, to seek healing. Forthwith the King made him welcome, and
placed him in the charge of his daughter, Isolt. Now Isolt was
famed for her skill in surgery, and, moreover, she was the fairest
lady of that time, save only Queen Guenevere. So she searched and
bandaged Sir Tristram's wound, and presently it was healed. But
still Sir Tristram abode at King Anguish's court, teaching the Fair
Isolt to harp, and taking great pleasure in her company. And ever
the princess doubted whether Sir Tristram were not a renowned
knight and ever she liked him better.

So the time passed merrily with feastings and in the jousts, and in
the lists Sir Tristram won great honour when he was recovered of
his wound.

At last it befell upon a day that Sir Tristram had gone to the bath
and left his sword lying on the couch. And the Queen, entering,
espied it, and taking it up, drew the sword from the sheath and
fell to admiring the mighty blade. Presently she saw that the edge
was notched, and while she pondered how great a blow must have
broken the good steel, suddenly she bethought her of the piece
which had been found in the head of her brother, Sir Marhaus.
Hastening to her chamber, she sought in a casket for the fragment,
and returning, placed it