And all unarmed I rode,and thought to find Arms in your town,where all the men are mad;They take the rustic murmur of their bourg For the great wave that echoes round the world;They would not hear me speak:but if ye know Where I can light on arms,or if yourself Should have them,tell me,seeing I have sworn That I will break his pride and learn his name,Avenging this great insult done the Queen.'
Then cried Earl Yniol,'Art thou he indeed,Geraint,a name far-sounded among men For noble deeds?and truly I,when first I saw you moving by me on the bridge,Felt ye were somewhat,yea,and by your state And presence might have guessed you one of those That eat in Arthur's hall in Camelot.
Nor speak I now from foolish flattery;
For this dear child hath often heard me praise Your feats of arms,and often when I paused Hath asked again,and ever loved to hear;So grateful is the noise of noble deeds To noble hearts who see but acts of wrong:
O never yet had woman such a pair Of suitors as this maiden:first Limours,A creature wholly given to brawls and wine,Drunk even when he wooed;and be he dead I know not,but he past to the wild land.
The second was your foe,the sparrow-hawk,My curse,my nephew--I will not let his name Slip from my lips if I can help it--he,When that I knew him fierce and turbulent Refused her to him,then his pride awoke;And since the proud man often is the mean,He sowed a slander in the common ear,Affirming that his father left him gold,And in my charge,which was not rendered to him;Bribed with large promises the men who served About my person,the more easily Because my means were somewhat broken into Through open doors and hospitality;Raised my own town against me in the night Before my Enid's birthday,sacked my house;From mine own earldom foully ousted me;
Built that new fort to overawe my friends,For truly there are those who love me yet;And keeps me in this ruinous castle here,Where doubtless he would put me soon to death,But that his pride too much despises me:
And I myself sometimes despise myself;
For I have let men be,and have their way;
Am much too gentle,have not used my power:
Nor know I whether I be very base Or very manful,whether very wise Or very foolish;only this I know,That whatsoever evil happen to me,I seem to suffer nothing heart or limb,But can endure it all most patiently.'
'Well said,true heart,'replied Geraint,'but arms,That if the sparrow-hawk,this nephew,fight In next day's tourney I may break his pride.'
And Yniol answered,'Arms,indeed,but old And rusty,old and rusty,Prince Geraint,Are mine,and therefore at thy asking,thine.
But in this tournament can no man tilt,Except the lady he loves best be there.
Two forks are fixt into the meadow ground,And over these is placed a silver wand,And over that a golden sparrow-hawk,The prize of beauty for the fairest there.
And this,what knight soever be in field Lays claim to for the lady at his side,And tilts with my good nephew thereupon,Who being apt at arms and big of bone Has ever won it for the lady with him,And toppling over all antagonism Has earned himself the name of sparrow-hawk.'
But thou,that hast no lady,canst not fight.'
To whom Geraint with eyes all bright replied,Leaning a little toward him,'Thy leave!
Let me lay lance in rest,O noble host,For this dear child,because I never saw,Though having seen all beauties of our time,Nor can see elsewhere,anything so fair.
And if I fall her name will yet remain Untarnished as before;but if I live,So aid me Heaven when at mine uttermost,As I will make her truly my true wife.'
Then,howsoever patient,Yniol's heart Danced in his bosom,seeing better days,And looking round he saw not Enid there,(Who hearing her own name had stolen away)But that old dame,to whom full tenderly And folding all her hand in his he said,'Mother,a maiden is a tender thing,And best by her that bore her understood.
Go thou to rest,but ere thou go to rest Tell her,and prove her heart toward the Prince.'
So spake the kindly-hearted Earl,and she With frequent smile and nod departing found,Half disarrayed as to her rest,the girl;Whom first she kissed on either cheek,and then On either shining shoulder laid a hand,And kept her off and gazed upon her face,And told them all their converse in the hall,Proving her heart:but never light and shade Coursed one another more on open ground Beneath a troubled heaven,than red and pale Across the face of Enid hearing her;While slowly falling as a scale that falls,When weight is added only grain by grain,Sank her sweet head upon her gentle breast;Nor did she lift an eye nor speak a word,Rapt in the fear and in the wonder of it;So moving without answer to her rest She found no rest,and ever failed to draw The quiet night into her blood,but lay Contemplating her own unworthiness;And when the pale and bloodless east began To quicken to the sun,arose,and raised Her mother too,and hand in hand they moved Down to the meadow where the jousts were held,And waited there for Yniol and Geraint.
And thither came the twain,and when Geraint Beheld her first in field,awaiting him,He felt,were she the prize of bodily force,Himself beyond the rest pushing could move The chair of Idris.Yniol's rusted arms Were on his princely person,but through these Princelike his bearing shone;and errant knights And ladies came,and by and by the town Flowed in,and settling circled all the lists.
And there they fixt the forks into the ground,And over these they placed the silver wand,And over that the golden sparrow-hawk.
