'There lurk three villains yonder in the wood,And each of them is wholly armed,and one Is larger-limbed than you are,and they say That they will fall upon you while ye pass.'
To which he flung a wrathful answer back:
'And if there were an hundred in the wood,And every man were larger-limbed than I,And all at once should sally out upon me,I swear it would not ruffle me so much As you that not obey me.Stand aside,And if I fall,cleave to the better man.'
And Enid stood aside to wait the event,Not dare to watch the combat,only breathe Short fits of prayer,at every stroke a breath.
And he,she dreaded most,bare down upon him.
Aimed at the helm,his lance erred;but Geraint's,A little in the late encounter strained,Struck through the bulky bandit's corselet home,And then brake short,and down his enemy rolled,And there lay still;as he that tells the tale Saw once a great piece of a promontory,That had a sapling growing on it,slide From the long shore-cliff's windy walls to the beach,And there lie still,and yet the sapling grew:
So lay the man transfixt.His craven pair Of comrades making slowlier at the Prince,When now they saw their bulwark fallen,stood;On whom the victor,to confound them more,Spurred with his terrible war-cry;for as one,That listens near a torrent mountain-brook,All through the crash of the near cataract hears The drumming thunder of the huger fall At distance,were the soldiers wont to hear His voice in battle,and be kindled by it,And foemen scared,like that false pair who turned Flying,but,overtaken,died the death Themselves had wrought on many an innocent.
Thereon Geraint,dismounting,picked the lance That pleased him best,and drew from those dead wolves Their three gay suits of armour,each from each,And bound them on their horses,each on each,And tied the bridle-reins of all the three Together,and said to her,'Drive them on Before you,'and she drove them through the wood.
He followed nearer still:the pain she had To keep them in the wild ways of the wood,Two sets of three laden with jingling arms,Together,served a little to disedge The sharpness of that pain about her heart:
And they themselves,like creatures gently born But into bad hands fallen,and now so long By bandits groomed,pricked their light ears,and felt Her low firm voice and tender government.
So through the green gloom of the wood they past,And issuing under open heavens beheld A little town with towers,upon a rock,And close beneath,a meadow gemlike chased In the brown wild,and mowers mowing in it:
And down a rocky pathway from the place There came a fair-haired youth,that in his hand Bare victual for the mowers:and Geraint Had ruth again on Enid looking pale:
Then,moving downward to the meadow ground,He,when the fair-haired youth came by him,said,'Friend,let her eat;the damsel is so faint.'
'Yea,willingly,'replied the youth;'and thou,My lord,eat also,though the fare is coarse,And only meet for mowers;'then set down His basket,and dismounting on the sward They let the horses graze,and ate themselves.
And Enid took a little delicately,Less having stomach for it than desire To close with her lord's pleasure;but Geraint Ate all the mowers'victual unawares,And when he found all empty,was amazed;And 'Boy,'said he,'I have eaten all,but take A horse and arms for guerdon;choose the best.'
He,reddening in extremity of delight,'My lord,you overpay me fifty-fold.'
'Ye will be all the wealthier,'cried the Prince.
'I take it as free gift,then,'said the boy,'Not guerdon;for myself can easily,While your good damsel rests,return,and fetch Fresh victual for these mowers of our Earl;For these are his,and all the field is his,And I myself am his;and I will tell him How great a man thou art:he loves to know When men of mark are in his territory:
And he will have thee to his palace here,And serve thee costlier than with mowers'fare.'
Then said Geraint,'I wish no better fare:
I never ate with angrier appetite Than when I left your mowers dinnerless.
And into no Earl's palace will I go.
I know,God knows,too much of palaces!
And if he want me,let him come to me.
But hire us some fair chamber for the night,And stalling for the horses,and return With victual for these men,and let us know.'
'Yea,my kind lord,'said the glad youth,and went,Held his head high,and thought himself a knight,And up the rocky pathway disappeared,Leading the horse,and they were left alone.
But when the Prince had brought his errant eyes Home from the rock,sideways he let them glance At Enid,where she droopt:his own false doom,That shadow of mistrust should never cross Betwixt them,came upon him,and he sighed;Then with another humorous ruth remarked The lusty mowers labouring dinnerless,And watched the sun blaze on the turning scythe,And after nodded sleepily in the heat.
But she,remembering her old ruined hall,And all the windy clamour of the daws About her hollow turret,plucked the grass There growing longest by the meadow's edge,And into many a listless annulet,Now over,now beneath her marriage ring,Wove and unwove it,till the boy returned And told them of a chamber,and they went;Where,after saying to her,'If ye will,Call for the woman of the house,'to which She answered,'Thanks,my lord;'the two remained Apart by all the chamber's width,and mute As two creatures voiceless through the fault of birth,Or two wild men supporters of a shield,Painted,who stare at open space,nor glance The one at other,parted by the shield.
On a sudden,many a voice along the street,And heel against the pavement echoing,burst Their drowse;and either started while the door,Pushed from without,drave backward to the wall,And midmost of a rout of roisterers,Femininely fair and dissolutely pale,Her suitor in old years before Geraint,Entered,the wild lord of the place,Limours.
