"So, Tramtrist, you are ready for the field," he said. "I tell you this, that it will not avail you to match your strength against my power. But I honor you for your nobility and prowess, and it would shame me to slay my guest in my court; therefore, I will let you depart in safety, on condition that you tell me your name and that of your father, and if it was truly you that slew my brother, Sir Marhaus."
"Truly it was so," said Tristram. "But what I did was done in honor and justice, as you well know. He came as a champion and defied all the knights of Cornwall to battle, and I fought him for the honor of Cornwall. It was my first battle, for I was made a knight that very day. And no man living can say that I struck him foully."
"I doubt me not that you acted in all knightly honor," answered the king. "But you cannot stay in my country against the ill-will of my barons, my wife, and her kindred."
"As for who I am," continued the knight, "my father is King Meliodas of Lyonesse, and my uncle King Mark of Cornwall. My name is Tristram; but when I was sent to your country to be cured of my wound I called myself Tramtrist, for I feared your anger. I thank you deeply for the kind welcome you have given me, and the goodness my lady, your daughter, has shown me. It may happen that you will win more by my life than by my death, for in England I may yet do you some knightly service. This I promise you, as I am a true knight, that in all places I shall hold myself the servant and knight of my lady, your daughter, and shall never fail to do in her honor and service all that a knight may. Also I beseech you that I may take leave of your barons and knights, and pray you to grant me leave to bid adieu to your daughter."
"I cannot well refuse you this," said the king.
With this permission, Tristram sought La Belle Isolde, and sadly bade her farewell, telling her who he was, why he had changed his name, and for what purpose he had come to Ireland.
"Had it not been for your care and skill I should now have been dead," he said.
"Gentle sir," she sadly replied, "I am woeful indeed that you should go, for I never saw man to whom I felt such good-will as to you."
And she wept bitterly as she held out her hand in adieu. But Tristram took her in his arms and kissed away her tears.
"I love you, Isolde, as my soul," he said. "If this despite of fate shall stand between you and me, this I promise, to be your knight while life is left to me."