all ways ready for battle as Sir Tristram had
done.

Therewith they two came together and presently fell to fighting with such
ardor that sparks of fire flew from every stroke. And if Sir Tristram
struck hard and often, the white knight struck as hard and as often as he,
so that all the knights of Cornwall who stood about marvelled at the
strength and fierceness of the knights-combatant. Each knight gave the
other many sore buffets so that the armor was here and there dinted and
here and there was broken through by the edge of the sword so that the red
blood flowed out therefrom and down over the armor, turning its brightness
in places into an ensanguined red. Thus they fought for above an hour and
in all that time neither knight gave ground or gained any vantage over the
other.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram falls in the battle] Then after a while Sir
Tristram grew more weary of fighting than ever he had been in all of his
life before, and he was aware that this was the greatest knight whom he had
ever met. But still he would not give ground, but fought from this side and
from that side with great skill and address until of a sudden, he slipped
upon some of that blood that he himself had shed, and because of his great
weariness, fell down upon his knees, and could not for the instant rise
again.

Then that white knight might easily have struck him down if he had been
minded to do so. But, instead, he withheld the blow and gave Sir Tristram
his hand and said: "Sir Knight, rise up and stand upon thy feet and let us
go at this battle again if it is thy pleasure to do so; for I do not choose
to take advantage of thy fall."

Then Sir Tristram was as greatly astonished at the extraordinary courtesy
of his enemy as he had been at his prowess. And because of that courtesy he
would not fight again, but stood leaning upon his sword panting. Then he
said: "Sir Knight, I pray thee of thy knighthood to tell me what is thy
name and who thou art."

"Messire," said the white knight, "since you ask me that upon my
knighthood, I cannot refuse to tell you my name. And so I will do, provided
you, upon your part, will do me a like courtesy and will first tell me your
name and degree."

Quoth Sir Tristram: "I will tell you that. My name is Sir Tristram of
Lyonesse, and I am the son of King Meliadus of that land whereby I have my
surname."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot confesses himself] "Ha, Sir Tristram," said the
white knight, "often have