consider," said she, "concerning companions and a provision for
the lady that is with me." "Thou wilt do well," said Arthur.

And that night they went to sleep. And the next day the
ambassadors were permitted to depart, and they were told that
Geraint should follow them. And on the third day Geraint set
forth, and many went with him - Gawain, the son of Gwyar, and
Riogoned, the son of the king of Ireland, and Ondyaw, the son of
the Duke of Burgundy, Gwilim, the son of the ruler of the Franks,
Howel, the son of the Earl of Brittany, Perceval, the son of
Evrawk, Gwyr, a judge in the court of Arthur, Bedwyr, the son of
Bedrawd, Kai, the son of Kyner, Odyar, the Frank, and Ederyn, the
son of Nudd. Said Geraint, "I think I shall have enough of
knighthood with me." And they set forth. And never was there seen
a fairer host journeying towards the Severn. And on the other side
of the Severn were the nobles of Erbin, the son of Custennin, and
his foster-father at their head, to welcome Geraint with gladness;
and many of the women of the court, with his mother, came to
receive Enid, the daughter of Ynywl, his wife. And there was great
rejoicing and gladness throughout the whole court, and through all
the country, concerning Geraint, because of the greatness of their
love to him, and of the greatness of the fame which he had gained
since he went from amongst them, and because he was come to take
possession of his dominions, and to preserve his boundaries. And
they came to the court. And in the court they had ample
entertainment, and a multitude of gifts, and abundance of liquor,
and a sufficiency of service, and a variety of games. And to do
honor to Geraint, all the chief men of the country were invited
that night to visit him. And they passed that day and that night
in the utmost enjoyment. And at dawn next day Erbin arose and
summoned to him Geraint, and the noble persons who had borne him
company. And he said to Geraint: "I am a feeble and an aged man,
and whilst I was able to maintain the dominion for thee and for
myself, I did so. But thou art young, and in the flower of thy
vigor and of thy youth. Henceforth do thou preserve thy
possessions." "Truly," said Geraint, "with my consent thou shalt
not give the power over thy dominions at this time into my hands,
and thou shalt not take me from Arthur's court." "Into thy hands
will I give them," said Erbin, "and this day also shalt thou
receive the homage of thy subjects."

Then said Gawain, "It were better for thee to satisfy those who
have boons to ask, to-day, and to-morrow thou canst receive the
homage of thy dominions." So all that had boons to ask were
summoned into one place. And Kadyriath came to them to know what
were their requests. And every one asked that which he desired.
And the followers of Arthur began to make gifts, and immediately
the men of Cornwall came, and gave also. And they were not long in
giving, so eager was every one to bestow gifts, and of those who
came to ask gifts, none departed unsatisfied. And that day and
that night were spent in the utmost enjoyment.

And the next day at dawn, Erbin desired Geraint to send messengers
to the men to ask them whether it was displeasing to them that he
should come to receive their homage, and whether they had anything
to object to him. Then Geraint sent ambassadors to the men of
Cornwall to ask them this. And they all said that it would be the
fulness of joy and honor to them for Geraint to come and receive
their homage. So he received the homage of such as were there. And
the day after the followers of Arthur intended to go away. "It is
too soon for you to go away yet," said he; "stay with me until I
have finished receiving the homage of my chief men, who have
agreed to come to me." And they remained with him until he had
done so. Then they set forth towards the court of Arthur. And
Geraint went to bear them company, and Enid also, as far as
Diganwy; there they parted. And Ondyaw, the son of the Duke of
Burgundy, said to Geraint, "Go, now, and visit the uttermost parts
of thy dominions, and see well to the boundaries of thy
territories; and if thou hast any trouble respecting them, send
unto thy companions." "Heaven reward thee!" said Geraint; "and
this will I do." And Geraint journeyed to the uttermost parts of
his dominions. And experienced guides, and the chief men of his
country, went with him. And the furthermost point that they showed
him he kept possession of.


CHAPTER VII

GERAINT, THE SON OF ERBIN (Continued)


Geraint, as he had been used to do when he was at Arthur's court,
frequented tournaments. And he became acquainted with valiant and
mighty men, until he had gained as much fame there as he had
formerly done elsewhere. And he enriched his court, and his
companions, and his nobles, with the best horses and the best
arms, and with the best and most valuable jewels, and he ceased
not until his fame had flown over the face of the whole kingdom.

"Before Geraint, the scourge of the enemy,
I saw steeds white with foam,
And after the shout of battle a fearful torrent."

- Hen.

When he knew that it was thus, he began to love ease and pleasure,
for there was no one who was worth his opposing. And he loved his
wife, and liked to continue in the palace with minstrelsy and
diversions. So he began to shut himself up in the chamber of his
wife, and he took no delight in anything besides, insomuch that he
gave up the friendship of his nobles, together with his hunting
and his amusements, and lost the hearts of all the host in his
court. And there was murmuring and scoffing concerning him among
the inhabitants of the palace, on account of his relinquishing so
completely their companionship for the love of his wife.

"They
Began to scoff and jeer and babble of him
As of a prince whose manhood was all gone,
And molten down in mere uxoriousness."

These tidings came to Erbin. And when Erbin had heard these
things, he spoke unto Enid, and inquired of her whether it was she
that had caused Geraint to act thus, and to forsake his people and
his hosts. "Not I, by my confession unto Heaven," said she; "there
is nothing more hateful unto me than this." And she knew not what
she should do, for, although it was hard for her to own this to
Geraint, yet was it not more easy for her to listen to what she
heard, without warning Geraint concerning it. And she was very
sorrowful.

One morning in the summer-time they were upon their couch, and
Geraint lay upon the edge of it. And Enid was without sleep in the
apartment, which had windows of glass; [Footnote: The terms of
admiration in which the older writers invariably speak of GLASS
WINDOWS would be sufficient proof, if other evidence were wanting,
how rare an article of luxury they were in the houses of our
ancestors. They were first introduced in ecclesiastical
architecture, to which they were for a long time confined. Glass
is said not to have been employed in domestic architecture before
the fourteenth century.] and the sun shone upon the couch. And the
clothes had slipped from off his arms and his breast, and he was
asleep. Then she gazed upon the marvellous beauty of his
appearance, and she said, "Alas! and am I the cause that these
arms and this breast have lost their glory, and the warlike fame
which they once so richly enjoyed!" As she said this the tears
dropped from her eyes, and they fell upon his breast. And the
tears she shed and the words she had spoken, awoke him. And
another thing contributed to awaken him, and that was the idea
that it was not in thinking of him that she spoke thus, but that
it was because she loved some other man more than him, and that
she wished for other society. Thereupon Geraint was troubled in
his mind, and he called his squire; and when he came to him, "Go
quickly," said he, "and prepare my horse and my arms, and make
them ready. And do thou rise," said he to Enid, "and apparel
thyself; and cause thy horse to be accoutred, and clothe thee in
the worst riding-dress that thou hast in thy possession. And evil
betide me," said he, "if thou returnest here until thou knowest
whether I have lost my strength so completely as thou didst say.
And if it be so, it will then be easy for thee to seek the society
thou didst wish for of him of whom thou wast thinking." So she
arose, and clothed herself in her meanest garments. "I know
nothing, lord," said she, "of thy meaning." "Neither wilt thou
know at this time," said he.

Then Geraint went to see Erbin. "Sir," said he, "I am going upon a
quest, and I am not certain when I may come back. Take heed,
therefore, unto thy possessions until my return." "I will do so,"
said he; "but it is strange to me that thou shouldst go so
suddenly. And who will proceed with thee, since thou art not
strong enough to traverse the land of Loegyr alone?" "But one
person only will go with me." "Heaven counsel thee, my son," said
Erbin, "and may many attach themselves to thee in Loegyr." Then
went Geraint to the place where his horse was, and it was equipped
with foreign armor, heavy and shining. And he desired Enid to
mount her horse, and to ride forward, and to keep a long way
before him. "And whatever thou mayst see, and whatever thou mayst
hear concerning me," said he, "do thou not turn back. And unless I
speak unto thee, say not thou one word, either." So they set
forward. And he did not choose the pleasantest and most frequented
road, but that which was the wildest and most beset by thieves and
robbers and venomous animals.

And they came to a high road, which they followed till they saw a
vast forest; and they saw four armed horsemen come forth from the
forest. When the armed men saw them, they said one to another.
"Here is a good occasion for us to capture two horses and armor,
and a lady likewise; for this we shall have no difficulty in doing
against yonder single knight who hangs his head so pensively and
heavily." Enid heard this discourse, and she knew not what she
should do through fear of Geraint, who had told her to be silent.
"The vengeance of Heaven be upon me," said she, "if I would not
rather receive my death from his hand than from the hand of any
other; and though he should slay me, yet will I speak to him, lest
I should have the misery to witness his death." So she waited for
Geraint until he came near to her. "Lord," said she, "didst thou
hear the words of those men concerning thee?" Then he lifted up
his eyes, and looked at her angrily. "Thou hadst only," said he,
"to hold thy peace as I bade thee. I wish but for silence, and not
for warning. And though thou shouldst desire to see my defeat and
my death by the hands of those men, yet do I feel no dread." Then
the foremost of them couched his lance, and rushed upon Geraint.
And he received him, and that not feebly. But he let the thrust go
by him, while he struck the horseman upon the centre of his
shield, in such a manner that his shield was split, and his armor
broken, so that a cubit's length of the shaft of Geraint's lance
passed through his body, and sent him to the earth, the length of
the lance over his horse's crupper. Then the second horseman
attacked him furiously, being wroth at the death of his companion.
But with one thrust Geraint overthrew him also, and killed him as
he had done the other. Then the third set upon him, and he killed
him in like manner. And thus also he slew the fourth. Sad and
sorrowful was the maiden as she saw all this. Geraint dismounted
his horse, and took the arms of the men he had slain, and placed
them upon their saddles, and tied together the reins of their
horses; and he mounted his horse again. "Behold what thou must
do," said he; "take the four horses and drive them before thee,
and proceed forward as I bade thee just now. And say not one word
unto me, unless I speak first unto thee. And I declare unto
Heaven," said he, "if thou doest not thus, it will be to thy
cost." "I will do as far as I can, lord," said she, "according to
thy desire."

So the maiden went forward, keeping in advance of Geraint, as he
had desired her; and it grieved him as much as his wrath would
permit, to see a maiden so illustrious as she having so much
trouble with the care of the horses. Then they reached a wood, and
it was both deep and vast, and in the wood night overtook them.
"Ah, maiden," said he, "it is vain to attempt proceeding forward."
"Well, lord," said she, "whatever thou wishest, we will do." "It
will be best for us," he answered, "to rest and wait for the day,
in order to pursue our journey." "That we will, gladly," said she.
And they did so. Having dismounted himself, he took her down from
her horse. "I cannot by any means refrain from sleep, through
weariness," said he; "do thou therefore watch the horses, and
sleep not." "I will, lord," said she. Then he went to sleep in his
armor, and thus passed the night, which was not long at that
season. And when she saw the dawn of day appear, she looked around
her to see if he were waking, and thereupon he woke. Then he
arose, and said unto her, "Take the horses and ride on, and keep
straight on as thou didst yesterday." And they left the wood, and
they came to an open country, with meadows on one hand, and mowers
mowing the meadows. And there was a river before them, and the
horses bent down and drank of the water. And they went up out of
the river by a lofty steep; and there they met a slender stripling
with a satchel about his neck, and they saw that there was
something in the satchel, but they knew not what it was. And he
had a small blue pitcher in his hand, and a bowl on the mouth of
the pitcher. And the youth saluted Geraint. "Heaven prosper thee!"
said Geraint; "and whence dost thou come?" "I come," said he,
"from the city that lies before thee. My lord," he added, "will it
be displeasing to thee if I ask whence thou comest also?" "By no
means; through yonder wood did I come." "Thou camest not through
the wood to-day." "No," he replied, "we were in the wood last
night." "I warrant," said the youth, "that thy condition there
last night was not the most pleasant, and that thou hadst neither
meat nor drink." "No, by my faith," said he. "Wilt thou follow my
counsel," said the youth, "and take thy meal from me?" "What sort
of meal?" he inquired. "The breakfast which is sent for yonder
mowers, nothing less than bread and meat and wine, and if thou
wilt, sir, they shall have none of it." "I will," said he, "and
Heaven reward thee for it."

So Geraint alighted, and the youth took the maiden from off her
horse. Then they washed, and took their repast. And the youth cut
the bread in slices, and gave them drink, and served them withal.
And when they had finished, the youth arose and said to Geraint,
"My lord, with thy permission, I will now go and fetch some food
for the mowers." "Go first to the town," said Geraint, "and take a
lodging for me in the best place that thou knowest, and the most
commodious one for the horses; and take thou whichever horse and
arms thou choosest, in payment for thy service and thy gift."
"Heaven reward thee, lord!" said the youth; "and this would be
ample to repay services much greater than those I have rendered
unto thee." And to the town went the youth, and he took the best
and the most pleasant lodgings that he knew; and after that he
went to the palace, having the horse and armor with him, and
proceeded to the place where the earl was, and told him all his
adventure. "I go now, lord," said he, "to meet the knight, and to
conduct him to his lodging." "Go, gladly," said the earl; "and
right joyfully shall he be received here, if he so come." And the
youth went to meet Geraint, and told him that he would be received
gladly by the earl in his own palace; but he would go only to his
lodgings. And he had a goodly chamber, in which was plenty of
straw and drapery, and a spacious and commodious place he had for
the horses; and the youth prepared for them plenty of provender.
After they had disarrayed themselves, Geraint spoke thus to Enid:
"Go," said he, "to the other side of the chamber, and come not to
this side of the house; and thou mayst call to thee the woman of
the house, if thou wilt." "I will do, lord," said she, "as thou
sayest." Thereupon the man of the house came to Geraint and
welcomed him. And after they had eaten and drank, Geraint went to
sleep, and so did Enid also.

In the evening, behold, the earl came to visit Geraint, and his
twelve honorable knights with him. And Geraint rose up and
welcomed him. Then they all sat down according to their precedence
in honor. And the earl conversed with Geraint, and inquired of him
the object of his journey. "I have none," he replied, "but to seek
adventures and to follow mine own inclination." Then the earl cast
his eye upon Enid, and he looked at her steadfastly. And he
thought he had never seen a maiden fairer or more comely than she.
And he set all his thoughts and his affections upon her. Then he
asked of Geraint, "Have I thy permission to go and converse with
yonder maiden, for I see that she is apart from thee?" "Thou hast
it gladly," said he. So the earl went to the place where the
maiden was, and spake with her. "Ah! maiden," said he, "it cannot
be pleasant to thee to journey with yonder man." "It is not
unpleasant to me," said she. "Thou hast neither youths nor maidens
to serve thee," said he. "Truly," she replied, "it is more
pleasant for me to follow yonder man, than to be served by youths
and maidens." "I will give thee good counsel," said he: "all my
earldom will I place in thy possession, if thou wilt dwell with
me."

"Enid, the pilot star of my lone life,
Enid, my early and my only love."

- Enid.

"That will I not, by Heaven," she said; "yonder man was the first
to whom my faith was ever pledged; and shall I prove inconstant to
him?" "Thou art in the wrong," said the earl; "if I slay the man
yonder, I can keep thee with me as long as I choose; and when thou
no longer pleasest me, I can turn thee away. But if thou goest
with me by thy own good-will, I protest that our union shall
continue as long as I remain alive." Then she pondered those words
of his, and she considered that it was advisable to encourage him
in his request. "Behold then, chieftain, this is most expedient
for thee to do to save me from all reproach; come here to-morrow
and take me away as though I knew nothing thereof." "I will do
so," said he. So he arose and took his leave, and went forth with
his attendants. And she told not then to Geraint any of the
conversation which she had had with the earl, lest it should rouse
his anger, and cause him uneasiness and care.

And at the usual hour they went to sleep. And at the beginning of
the night Enid slept a little; and at midnight she arose, and
placed all Geraint's armor together so that it might be ready to
put on. And although fearful of her errand, she came to the side
of Geraint's bed; and she spoke to him softly and gently, saying,
"My lord, arise, and clothe thyself, for these were the words of
the earl to me and his intention concerning me." So she told
Geraint all that had passed. And although he was wroth with her,
he took warning, and clothed himself. And she lighted a candle,
that he might have light to do so. "Leave there the candle," said
he, "and desire the man of the house to come here." Then she went,
and the man of the house came to him. "Dost thou know how much I
owe thee?" asked Geraint. "I think thou owest but little." "Take
the three horses and the three suits of armor." "Heaven reward
thee, lord," said he, "but I spent not the value of one suit of
armor upon thee." "For that reason," said he, "thou wilt be the
richer. And now, wilt thou come to guide me out of the town?" "I
will gladly," said he; "and in which direction dost thou intend to
go?" "I wish to leave the town by a different way from that by
which I entered it." So the man of the lodgings accompanied him as
far as he desired. Then he bade the maiden to go on before him,
and she did so, and went straight forward, and his host returned
home.

And Geraint and the maiden went forward along the high-road. And
as they journeyed thus, they heard an exceeding loud wailing near
to them. "Stay thou here," said he, "and I will go and see what is
the cause of this wailing." "I will," said she. Then he went
forward into an open glade that was near the road. And in the
glade he saw two horses, one having a man's saddle, and the other
a woman's saddle upon it. And behold there was a knight lying dead
in his armor, and a young damsel in a riding-dress standing over
him lamenting. "Ah, lady," said Geraint, "what hath befallen
thee?" "Behold," she answered, "I journeyed here with my beloved
husband, when lo! three giants came upon us, and without any cause
in the world, they slew him." "Which way went they hence?" said
Geraint. "Yonder by the high-road," she replied. So he returned to
Enid. "Go," said he, "to the lady that is below yonder, and await
me there till I come." She was sad when he ordered her to do thus,
but nevertheless she went to the damsel, whom it was ruth to hear,
and she felt certain that Geraint would never return.

Meanwhile Geraint followed the giants, and overtook them. And each
of them was greater in stature than three other men, and a huge
club was on the shoulder of each. Then he rushed upon one of them,
and thrust his lance through his body. And having drawn it forth
again, he pierced another of them through likewise. But the third
turned upon him and struck him with his club so that he split his
shield and crushed his shoulder. But Geraint drew his sword and
gave the giant a blow on the crown of his head, so severe, and
fierce, and violent, that his head and his neck were split down to
his shoulders, and he fell dead. So Geraint left him thus and
returned to Enid. And when he reached the place where she was he
fell down lifeless from his horse. Piercing and loud and thrilling
was the cry that Enid uttered. And she came and stood over him
where he had fallen. And at the sound of her cries came the Earl
of Limours, and they who journeyed with him, whom her lamentations
brought out of their road. And the earl said to Enid, "Alas, lady,
what hath befallen thee?" "Ah, good sir," said she, "the only man
I have loved, or ever shall love, is slain." Then he said to the
other, "And what is the cause of thy grief?" "They have slain my
beloved husband also," said she. "And who was it that slew them?"
"Some giants," she answered, "slew my best-beloved, and the other
knight went in pursuit of them, and came back in the state thou
seest." The earl caused the knight that was dead to be buried, but
he thought that there still remained some life in Geraint; and to
see if he yet would live, he had him carried with him in the
hollow of his shield, and upon a bier. And the two damsels went to
the court; and when they arrived there, Geraint was placed upon a
little couch in front of the table that was in the hall. Then they
all took off their traveling-gear, and the earl besought Enid to
do the same, and to clothe herself in other garments. "I will not,
by Heaven," said she. "Ah, lady," said he, "be not so sorrowful
for this matter." "It were hard to persuade me to be otherwise,"
said she. "I will act towards thee in such wise that thou needest
not be sorrowful, whether yonder knight live or die. Behold, a
good earldom, together with myself, will I bestow upon thee; be
therefore happy and joyful." "I declare to Heaven," said she,
"that henceforth I shall never be joyful while I live." "Come,"
said he, "and eat." "No, by Heaven, I will not." "But, by Heaven,
thou shalt," said he. So he took her with him to the table against
her will, and many times desired her to eat. "I call Heaven to
witness," said she, "that I will not until the man that is upon
yonder bier shall eat likewise." "Thou canst not fulfil that,"
said the earl, "yonder man is dead already." "I will prove that I
can," said she. Then he offered her a goblet of liquor. "Drink
this goblet," he said, "and it will cause thee to change thy
mind." "Evil betide me," she answered, "if I drink aught until he
drink also." "Truly," said the earl, "it is of no more avail for
me to be gentle with thee than ungentle." And he gave her a box in
the ear. Thereupon she raised a loud and piercing shriek, and her
lamentations were much greater than they had been before; for she
considered in her mind, that, had Geraint been alive, he durst not
have struck her thus. But, behold, at the sound of her cry,