and, after many blows have been given and received and the end has seemed doubtful, Tristram (who has been wounded by his opponent’s poisoned lance) kills him by a blow of his sword, a splinter of which remains embedded in the dead giant’s skull.  His corpse is then brought back to Ireland to receive sepulchre at the hands of Queen Iseult, who, in preparing the body for the grave finds the fragment of steel, which she treasures, thinking it may some day help her to find her champion’s slayer and enable her to avenge his death.

Meanwhile Tristram’s wound does not heal, and, realizing Queen Iseult alone will be able to cure him, he sails for Ireland, where he presents himself as the minstrel Tramtris, and rewards the care of the queen and her daughter—­both bearing the name of Iseult—­by his fine music.

On his return to Cornwall, Tristram, who has evidently been impressed by Princess Iseult’s beauty, sings her praises so enthusiastically that King Mark decides to propose for her hand, and—­advised by the jealous courtiers, who deem the expedition perilous in the extreme—­selects Tristram as his ambassador.

On landing in Ireland, Tristram notices ill-concealed excitement, and discovers that a dragon is causing such damage in the neighborhood that the king has promised his daughter’s hand to the warrior who would slay the monster.

Nothing daunted, Tristram sets out alone, and beards the dragon in his den to such good purpose that he kills him and carries off his tongue as a trophy.  But, wounded in his encounter, Tristram soon sinks by the roadside unconscious.  The king’s butler, who has been spying upon him and who deems him dead, now cuts off the dragon’s head and lays it at the king’s feet, claiming the promised reward.

Princess Iseult and her mother refuse, however, to believe that this man—­a notorious coward—­has performed any such feat, and hasten out to the battle-field.  There they find not only the headless dragon, but the unconscious Tristram, and the tongue which proves him the real victor.  To nurse him back to health is no great task for these ladies, who, like many of the heroines of the mediaeval epics and romances, are skilled leeches and surgeons.

One day, while guarding their patient’s slumbers, the ladies idly examine his weapons, and make the momentous discovery that the bit of steel found in Morolt’s head exactly fits a nick in Tristram’s sword.

Although both had sworn vengeance, they decide the service Tristram has just rendered them and their country more than counterbalances the rest, and therefore let him go unscathed.

Fully restored to health, Tristram proves the butler had no right to Iseult’s hand, and, instead of enforcing his own claim, makes King Mark’s proposals known.  Either because such an alliance flatters their pride or because they dare not refuse, Iseult’s parents accept in their daughter’s name and prepare everything for her speedy departure.  The queen, wishing to save her daughter from the curse of a loveless marriage, next brews a love-potion which she bids Brengwain—­her daughter’s maid and companion—­administer to King Mark and Iseult on their wedding night.