“Sir Tramtrist, why will you not joust?”
“Sir,” said he, “I was but late hurt, and dare not adventure.” While they spoke together, there came a squire named Hebes that had known Sir Tristram in Cornwall, and made a low reverence to him. Sir Tristram begged him not to discover his name, and that Hebes promised. But Isoude had seen him bow to Tristram, and therefore she thought he must be some great knight, and was much comforted. On the morrow Sir Palomides again went into the field, and did as well as he had done before.
Then Isoude armed Tristram in white armour with a white shield, and let him into the field by a private postern. Anon Sir Palomides saw him, and rode at him with a great spear; but there Sir Tristram smote him to the ground, horse and man. So there arose a great cry all over the field that Sir Palomides had had a fall; and then was Isoude exceedingly glad. After that none of the other knights would meddle with Sir Tristram. But Palomides was sore wrathful and ashamed, and withdrew out of the field. That Sir Tristram saw, and he rode after him and bade him turn, for they would be better proved ere they parted. When Palomides heard that, he turned angrily, and they fought together with their swords; but very soon Sir Tristram smote him so mighty a stroke on the helm that he fell on the ground.
“Now yield thee,” said Tristram, “or else will I slay thee.”
So Palomides yielded, and Tristram charged him, on pain of his life, to forsake La Beale Isoude; and also for twelve months and a day to bear no armour. This Sir Palomides was sworn to perform.
“Alas!” said he, “now am I utterly shamed;” and in his great despite and anger he took off his armour and flung it away.
Sir Tristram returned to the castle by the same secret postern by which he had left it, and found there La Beale Isoude, who gave him a full tender greeting. But in a while it became known that Sir Tramtrist, as he was called, was the knight that had overthrown Sir Palomides; so then he was still more honoured than before.
But, unhappily, one day it befell that the queen happened to take up Sir Tristram’s sword, and she drew it from the scabbard; and there, within a foot and a half of the point, was a great piece broken out of the edge. As soon as the queen saw that, she remembered the piece of a sword that was taken out of the head of her brother Sir Marhaus.
“By Heaven!” said she to Isoude, “this is the same traitorous knight that slew my brother, thine uncle.”
Then the queen hastened to her own chamber, and took out of a coffer the piece of the sword, which she had kept by her ever since Sir Marhaus’ death; and when she put it to Sir Tristram’s sword, she found it fitted exactly. So she went to King Anguisance, her husband, and made her complaint. King Anguisance was much grieved, for he liked Tristram well; but he went to seek him, and found him all armed and on horseback, because Isoude had already told him what her mother had discovered.