The damsel meanwhile sought Tristram, whom she found in such grief as she had never before seen, and the more she tried to console him the more he moaned and bewailed. At the last he took his horse and rode deeply into the forest, as if he would be away from all human company.
The damsel now sought him diligently, but it was three days before she could find him, in a miserable woodland hut. Here she brought him meat and drink, but he would eat nothing, and seemed as if he wished to starve himself.
A few days afterwards he fled from her again, and on this occasion it chanced that he rode by the castle before which he and Palamides had fought for La Belle Isolde. Here the damsel found him again, moaning dismally, and quite beside himself with grief. In despair what to do, she went to the lady of the castle and told her of the misfortune of the knight.
"It grieves me to learn this," said the lady. "Where is he?"
"Here, near by your castle."
"I am glad he is so near. He shall have meat and drink of the best, and a harp which I have of his, and on which he taught me to play. For in harping he has no peer in the world."
So they took him meat and drink, but had much ado to get him to eat. And during the night his madness so increased that he drove his horse from him, and unlaced his armor and threw it wildly away. For days afterwards he roamed like a wild man about the wilderness; now in a mad frenzy breaking boughs from the trees, and even tearing young trees up by the roots, and now for hours playing on the harp which the lady had given him, while tears flowed in rivulets from his eyes.
Sometimes, again, when the lady knew not where he was, she would sit down in the wood and play upon the harp, which he had left hanging on a bough. Then Tristram would come like a tamed fawn and listen to her, hiding in the bushes; and in the end would come out and take the harp from her hand and play on it himself, in mournful strains that brought the tears to her eyes.
Thus for a quarter of a year the demented lover roamed the forest near the castle. But at length he wandered deeper into the wilderness, and the lady knew not whither he had gone. Finally, his clothes torn into tatters by the thorns, and he fallen away till he was lean as a hound, he fell into the fellowship of herdsmen and shepherds, who gave him daily a share of their food, and made him do servile tasks. And when he did any deed not to their liking they would beat him with rods. In the end, as they looked upon him as witless, they clipped his hair and beard, and made him look like a fool.
To such a vile extremity had love, jealousy, and despair brought the brave knight Tristram de Lyonesse, that from being the fellow of lords and nobles he became the butt of churls and cowherds. About this time it happened that Dagonet, the fool and merry-maker of King Arthur, rode into Cornwall with two squires, and chance brought them to a well in the forest which was much haunted by the demented knight. The weather was hot, and they alighted and stooped to drink at the well, while their horses ran loose. As they bent over the well in their thirst, Tristram suddenly appeared, and, moved by a mad freak, he seized Dagonet and soused him headforemost in the well, and the two squires after him. The dripping victims crawled miserably from the water, amid the mocking laughter of the shepherds, while Tristram ran after the stray horses. These being brought, he forced the fool and the squires to mount, soaked as they were, and ride away.