s, but by
this time his grief and pain of heart had grown so bitter that he fell
from his horse in a swoon, and lay thus for three days and nights.

When at length he came to himself, he sent Fergus, who had remained
with him, to the court, to bring him what tidings he might learn. As
Fergus rode forward he met a damsel whom Palamides had sent to inquire
about Sir Tristram. Fergus told her how he had met him, and that he was
almost out of his mind.

"Where shall I find him?" asked the damsel.

"In such a place," explained Fergus, and rode on to the court, where he
learned that Queen Isolde was sick in bed, moaning pitifully, though no
one knew the source of her pain.

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 Tri