'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 travelling-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 eat 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, Geraint revived from his swoon, and he sat up on the bier; and finding his sword in the hollow of his shield, he rushed to the place where the earl was, and struck him a fiercely-wounding, severely- venomous, and sternly-smiting blow upon the crown of his head, so that he clove him in twain, until his sword was staid by the table. Then all left the board and fled away. And this was not so much through fear of the living, as through the dread they felt at seeing the dead man rise up to slay them. And Geraint looked upon Enid, and he was grieved for two causes; one was to see that Enid had lost her color and her wonted aspect; and the other, to know that she was in the right. 'Lady,' said he, 'knowest thou where our horses are?' 'I know, lord, where thy horse is,' she replied, 'but I know not where is the other. Thy horse is in the house yonder.' So he went to the house, and brought forth his horse, and mounted him, and took up Enid, and placed her upon the horse with him. And he rode forward. And their road lay between two hedges; and the night was gaining on the day. And lo! they saw behind them the shafts of spears betwixt them and the sky, and they heard the tramping of horses, and the noise of a host approaching. 'I hear something following us,' said he, 'and I will put thee on the other side of the hedge.' And thus he did. And thereupon, behold, a knight pricked towards him, and couched his lance. When Enid saw this, she cried out, saying, 'O chieftain, whoever thou art, what renown wilt thou gain by slaying a dead man?' 'O Heaven!' said he, 'is it Geraint?' 'Yes, in truth,' said she; 'and who art thou?' 'I am Gwiffert Petit,' said he, 'thy husband's ally, coming to thy assistance, for I heard that thou wast in trouble. Come with me to the court of a son-in-law of my sister, which is near here, and thou shalt have the best medical assistance in the kingdom.' 'I will do so gladly,' said Geraint. And Enid was placed upon the horse of one of Gwiffert's squires, and they went forward to the baron's palace. And they were received there with gladness, and they met with hospitality and attention. The next morning they went to seek physicians; and it was not long before they came, and they attended Geraint until he was perfectly well. And while Geraint was under medical care, Gwiffert caused his armor to be repaired, until it was as good as it had ever been. And they remained there a month and a fortnight. Then they separated, and Geraint went towards his own dominions, and thenceforth he reigned prosperously, and his warlike fame and splendor lasted with renown and honor both to him and to Enid,* from that time forward.
Throughout the broad and varied regions of romance, it would be difficult do find a character of greater simplicity and truth than that of Enid, the daughter of Earl Ynywl. Conspicuous for her beauty and noble bearing, we are at a loss whether more to admire the patience with which she bore all the hardships she was destined to undergo, or the constancy and affection which finally achieved the triumph she so richly deserved.
The character of Enid is admirably sustained through the whole tale; and as it is more natural, because less overstrained, so perhaps it is even more touching, than that of Griselda, over which, however, Chaucer has thrown a charm that leads us to forget the improbability of her story.
CHAPTER XXVI. PWYLL, PRINCE OF DYVED.
ONCE upon a time Pwyll was at Narberth, his chief palace, where a feast had been prepared for him, and with him was a great host of men. And after the first meal Pwyll arose to walk; and he went to the top of a mound that was above the palace, and was called Gorsedd Arberth. 'Lord,' said one of the court, 'it is peculiar to the mound that whosoever sits upon it cannot go thence without either receiving wounds or blows, or else seeing a wonder.' 'I fear not to receive wounds or blows,' said Pwyll; 'but as to the wonder, gladly would I see it. I will therefore go and sit upon the mound.'
And upon the mound he sat. And while he sat there, they saw a lady, on a pure white horse of large size, with a garment of shining gold around her, coming along the highway that led from the mound. 'My men,' said Pwyll, 'is there any among you who knows yonder lady?' 'There is not, lord,' said they. 'Go one of you and meet her, that we may know who she is.' And one of them arose, and as he came upon the road to meet her, she passed by; and he followed as fast as he could, being on foot, and the greater was his speed, the further was she from him. And when he saw that it profited him nothing to follow her, he returned to Pwyll, and said unto him, 'Lord, it is idle for any one in the world to follow her on foot.' 'Verily,' said Pwyll, 'go unto the palm, and take the fleetest horse that thou seest, and go after her.'
And he took a horse and went forward. And he came to an open, level plain, and put spurs to his horse; and the more he urged his horse, the further was she from him. And he returned to the palace where Pwyll was, and said, 'Lord, it will avail nothing for any one to follow yonder lady. I know of no horse in these realms swifter than this, and it availed me not to pursue her.' 'Of a truth,' said Pwyll, 'there must be some illusion here; let us go towards the palace.' So to the palace they went, and spent the day.
And the next day they amused themselves until it was time to go to meat. And when meat was ended, Pwyll said, 'Where are the hosts that went yesterday to the top of the mound?' 'Behold, lord, we are here,' said they. 'Let us go,' said he, 'to the mound, and sit there. And do thou,' said he to the page who tended his, horse, 'saddle my horse well, and hasten with him to the road, and bring also my spurs with thee.' And the youth did thus. And they went and sat upon the mound; and ere they had been there but a short time, they beheld the lady coming by the same road, and in the same manner, and at the same pace. 'Young man,' said Pwyll, 'I see the lady coming; give me my horse.' And before he had mounted his horse she passed him. And he turned after her and followed her. And he let his horse go bounding playfully, and thought that he should soon come up with her. But he came no nearer to her than at first. Then he urged his horse to his utmost speed; yet he found that it availed not. Then said Pwyll, 'O
