"What does this mean?" he asked himself. "Am I, who was called one of
the handsomest knights in the world, wasted to such a frightful figure?
I must leave this life, for it is idle to grieve myself to death for
that which I can never possess."

Then he threw himself beside the well, and from the fulness of his heart
began to make a song about La Belle Isolde and himself, a rhyme made up
of music, love, and grief.

As chance would have it, Tristram had ridden into the forest that day in
chase of the hart. And as he rode up and down under the green leaves the
summer air brought to his ears the sound of a voice singing loud and
clear. He rode softly towards the sound, for he deemed that some
knight-errant lay there solacing himself with song.

When he came nigh he tied his horse to a tree and advanced on foot. Then
he became aware that the singer was his guest Palamides, and that his
song was about La Belle Isolde, a doleful and piteous, yet marvellously
well-made song, which the singer sang loudly and in a clear voice.
Tristram stood listening till he had heard it from beginning to end. But
at the last his anger grew so high that he needed to restrain himself
from slaying the singer where he lay.

Remembering that Palamides was unarmed, he resisted this impulse, and
advanced slowly towards him.

"Sir Palamides," he said, in a gentle voice, "I have heard your song,
and learned your treason to your host. If it were not for the shame of
an unknightly act I would deal you here the meed you have earned. How
will you acquit yourself of treachery?"

"Thus will I," said Palamides, springing to his feet in his surprise.
"As for Queen Isolde, you may know well that I love her above all other
ladies in the world. I loved her before you ever saw her, as you know,
and have never ceased nor shall ever cease to love her. What honor I
have won is due for the most part to my love of her. Yet never for a
moment has she returned my love, and I have been her knight without
guerdon. Therefore I dread not death, for I had as lief die as live."

"Well have you uttered your treason," said Tristram.

"No treason is it," said Palamides. "Love is free to all men, and I have
a right to love any lady I will. If she return it not, no man is harmed.
Such wrong as is done I have suffered, not you, for your love is
returned and mine has brought me but pain. Yet I shall continue to love
La Belle Isolde to the end of my days as deeply as you can.