"Ha, Sir Tristram," said the white knight, "often have I heard of thee and of thy skill at arms, and well have I proved thy fame this day and that all that is said of thee is true. I must tell thee that I have never yet met my match until I met thee this day. For I know not how this battle might have ended hadst thou not slipped and fallen by chance as thou didst. My name is Sir Launcelot, surnamed of the Lake, and I am King Ban's son of Benwick."

At this Sir Tristram cried out in a loud voice: "Sir Launcelot! Sir Launcelot! Is it thou against whom I have been doing battle! Rather I would that anything should have happened to me than that, for of all men in the world I most desire thy love and friendship."

Sir Tristram yields to Sir Launcelot.

Then, having so spoken, Sir Tristram immediately kneeled down upon his knees and said: "Messire, I yield myself unto thee, being overcome not more by thy prowess than by thy courtesy. For I freely confess that thou art the greatest knight in the world, against whom no other knight can hope to stand; for I could fight no more and thou mightest easily have slain me when I fell down a while since."

"Nay, Sir Tristram," said Sir Launcelot, "arise, and kneel not to me, for I am not willing to accept thy submission, for indeed it is yet to be proved which of us is the better knight, thou or I. Wherefore let neither of us yield to the other, but let us henceforth be as dear as brothers-in-arms the one toward the other."

Then Sir Tristram rose up to his feet again. "Well, Sir Launcelot," he said, "whatsoever thou shalt ordain shall be as thou wouldst have it. But there is one thing I must do because of this battle."

Sir Tristram breaks his sword.

Then he looked upon his sword which he held naked and ensanguined in his hand and he said: "Good sword; thou hast stood my friend and hast served me well in several battles, but this day thou hast served me for the last time." Therewith he suddenly took the blade of the sword in both hands--the one at the point and the other nigh the haft--and he brake the blade across his knee and flung the pieces away.

Upon this Sir Launcelot cried out in a loud voice: "Ha, Messire! why didst thou do such a thing as that? To break thine own fair sword?"

"Sir," quoth Sir Tristram, "this sword hath this day received the greatest honor that is possible for any blade to receive; for it hath been baptized in thy blood. So, because aught else that might happen to it would diminish that honor, I have broken it so that its honor might never be made less than it is at this present time."