Arthur was accustomed to hold his Court at Caerlleon upon Usk. There he held it seven Easters and five Christmases. Once upon a time he held his Court there at Whitsuntide. For Caerlleon was the place most easy of access in his dominions, both by sea and by land. There were assembled nine crowned kings, who were his tributaries, and likewise earls and barons. For they were his invited guests at all the high festivals, unless they were prevented by any great hindrance. When he was at Caerlleon, holding his Court, thirteen churches were set apart for mass.

Thus were they appointed: one church for Arthur, and his Kings, and his guests; and the second for Gwenhwyvar and her ladies; and the third for the Steward of the Household and the suitors; and the fourth for the Franks and the other officers; and the other nine churches were for the nine Masters of the Household and chiefly for Gwalchmai; for he, from the eminence of his warlike fame, and from the nobleness of his birth, was the most exalted of the nine. There was no other arrangement respecting the churches than that which we have mentioned above.

Glewlwyd Gavaelvawr was the chief porter; but he did not himself perform the office, except at one of the three high festivals, for he had seven men to serve him, and they divided the year amongst them. They were Grynn, and Pen Pighon, and Llaes Cymyn, and Gogyfwlch, and Gwrdnei with cat's eyes, who could see as well by night as by day, and Drem the son of Dremhitid, and Clust the son of Clustveinyd; and these were Arthur's guards.

On Whit-Tuesday, as the King sat at the banquet, lo there entered a tall, fair-headed youth, clad in a coat and a surcoat of diapered satin, and a golden-hilted sword about his neck, and low shoes of leather upon his feet.

He came, and stood before Arthur. "Hail to thee, lord." said he.

"Heaven prosper thee" he answered, "and be thou welcome. Dost thou bring any new tidings?"

"Lady" said he "I will follow him yet, with thy permission; and at last he will come to some inhabited place, where I may have arms either as a loan or for a pledge, so that I may encounter the knight."

"Go" said she "and do not attack him until thou hast good arms, and I shall be very anxious concerning thee, until I hear tidings of thee."

"If I am alive" said he "thou shalt hear tidings of me by tomorrow afternoon" and with that he departed.

The road they took was below the palace of Caerlleon, and across the ford of the Usk; and they went along a fair, and even, and lofty ridge of ground, until they came to a town. and at the extremity of the town they saw a Fortress and a Castle. They came to the extremity of the town. As the knight passed through it, all the people arose, and saluted him, and bade him welcome.

When Geraint came into the town, he looked at every house, to see if he knew any of those whom he saw, but he knew none, and none knew him to do him the kindness to let him have arms either as a loan or for a pledge. Every house he saw was full of men, and arms, and horses. They were polishing shields, and burnishing swords, and washing armour, and shoeing horses. The knight, and the lady, and the dwarf, rode up to the Castle that was in the town, and every one was glad in the Castle. From the battlements and the gates they risked their necks, through their eagerness to greet them, and to show their joy.

Thus went Geraint, and Earl Ynywl, and his wife, and his daughter. When they reached the chamber, the household servants and attendants of the young Earl had arrived at the Court, and they arranged all the houses, dressing them with straw and with fire; and in a short time the ointment was ready, and Geraint came there, and they washed his head.

Then came the young Earl, with forty honourable knights from among his attendants, and those who were bidden to the tournament. Geraint came from the anointing. The Earl asked him to go to the hall to eat. "Where is the Earl Ynywl" said Geraint, "and his wife, and his daughter ?"

"They are in the chamber yonder" said the Earl's chamberlain, arraying themselves in garments which the Earl has caused to be brought for them."

"Let not the damsel array herself" said he, "except in her vest and her veil, until she come to the Court of Arthur, to be clad by Gwenhwyvar, in such garments as she may choose." So the maiden did not array herself.

Then they all entered the hall, and they washed, and went, and sat down to meat. And thus were they seated. On one side of Geraint sat the young Earl, and Earl Ynywl beyond him; and on the other side of Geraint were the maiden and her mother, and after these all sat according to their precedence in honour. They ate, and they were served abundantly, and they received a profusion of divers kind of gifts. Then they conversed together.

The young Earl invited Geraint to visit him next day. "I will not, by Heaven" said Geraint. "To the Court of Arthur will I go with this maiden tomorrow. It is enough for me, as long as Earl Ynywl is in poverty and trouble; and I go chiefly to seek to add to his maintenance."

"Chieftain" said the young Earl "it is not by my fault that Earl Ynywl is without his possessions."

"By my faith" said Geraint "he shall not remain without them, unless death quickly takes me hence."

"Chieftain" said he "with regard to the disagreement between me and Ynywl, I will gladly abide by thy counsel, and agree to what thou mayest judge right between us."

"I but ask thee" said Geraint "to restore to him what is his, and what he should have received from the time he lost his possessions, even until this day."

"That I will do gladly for thee" answered he.

"Then" said Geraint "whosoever is here who owes homage to Ynywl, let him come forward, and perform it on the spot." All the men did so, and by that treaty they abided. His castle, and his town, and all his possessions, were restored to Ynywl. He received back all that he had lost, even to the smallest jewel.

Then the foremost of them couched his lance, and rushed upon Geraint. He received him, and that not feebly. 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 armour broken, and 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. Thus also he slew the fourth. Sad and sorrowful was the maiden as she saw all this.

Geraint dismounted from 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. Say not one word unto me, unless I speak first unto thee. 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."

Then they went forward through the forest; and when they left the forest, they came to a vast plain, in the centre of which was a group of thickly tangled copse-wood; and from out thereof they beheld three horsemen coming towards them, well equipped with armour, both they and their horses.

Then the maiden looked steadfastly upon them; and when they had come near, she heard them say one to another, "Behold, here is a good arrival for us; here are coming for us four horses and four suits of armour. We shall easily obtain them spite of yonder dolorous knight, and the maiden also will fall into our power."

"This is but too true" said she to herself, "for my husband is tired with his former combat. The vengeance of Heaven will be upon me, unless I warn him of this". So the maiden waited until Geraint came up to her. "Lord" said she, "dost thou not hear the discourse of yonder men concerning thee?"

"What was it?" asked he.

"They say to one another, that they will easily obtain all this spoil."

"I declare to Heaven" he answered, "that their words are less grievous to me than that thou wilt not be silent, and abide by my counsel."

"My Lord" said she "I feared lest they should surprise thee unawares."

"Hold thy peace, then" said he, "do not I desire silence?"

Thereupon one of the horsemen couched his lance, and attacked Geraint. He made a thrust at him, which he thought would be very effective; but Geraint received it carelessly, and struck it aside, and then he rushed upon him, and aimed at the centre of his person, and from the shook of man and horse, the quantity of his armour did not avail him, and the head of the lance and part of the shaft passed through him, so that he was carried to the ground an arm and a spear's length over the crupper of his horse.

Both the other horsemen came forward in their turn, but their onset was not more successful than that of their companion. The maiden stood by, looking at all this; and on the one hand she was in trouble lest Geraint should be wounded in his encounter with the men, and on the other hand she was joyful to see him victorious.

Then Geraint dismounted, and bound the three suits of armour upon the three saddles, and he fastened the reins of all the horses together, so that he had seven horses with him. He mounted his own horse, and commanded the maiden to drive forward the others. "It is no more use for me to speak to thee than to refrain, for thou wilt not attend to my advice."

"I will do so, as far as I am able, Lord" said she; "but I cannot conceal from thee the fierce and threatening words which I may hear against thee, Lord, from such strange people as those that haunt this wilderness."

"I declare to Heaven" said he, "that I desire nought but silence; therefore, hold thy peace."

"I will Lord, while I can." The maiden went on with the horses before her, and she pursued her way straight onwards. From the copse-wood already mentioned, they journeyed over a vast and dreary open plain. At a great distance from them they beheld a wood, and they could see neither end nor boundary to the wood, except on that side that was nearest to them, and they went towards it.

Then there came from out the wood five horsemen, eager, and bold, and mighty, and strong, mounted upon chargers that were powerful, and large of bone, and high mettled, and proudly snorting, and both the men and the horses were well equipped with arms. When they drew near to them, Enid heard them say, "Behold, here is a fine booty coming to us, which we shall obtain easily and without labour, for we shall have no trouble in taking all those horses and arms, and the lady also, from yonder single knight, so doleful and sad."

Sorely grieved was the maiden upon hearing this discourse, so that she knew not in the world what she should do. At last, however, she determined to warn Geraint; so she turned her horse's head towards him. "Lord" said she, "if thou hadst heard as I did what yonder horsemen said concerning thee, thy heaviness would be greater than it is."

Angrily and bitterly did Geraint smile upon her, and he said, "Thee do I hear doing everything that I forbade thee; but it may be that thou wilt repent this yet."

Immediately, behold, the men met them, and victoriously and gallantly did Geraint overcome them all five. He placed the five suits of armour upon the five saddles, and tied together the reins of the twelve horses, and gave them in charge to Enid. "I know not" said he "what good it is for me to order thee; but this time I charge thee in an especial manner."

So the maiden went forward towards the wood, 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 the 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, "whatsoever thou wishest, we will do."

"It will be best for us" he answered, "to turn out of the wood, and to rest, and wait for the day, in order to pursue our journey."

"That will we, 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 armour, and thus passed the night, which was not long at that season.

When she saw the dawn of day appear, she looked around her, to see if he were waking, and thereupon he woke. "My Lord" she said, "I have desired to awake thee for some time." But he spake nothing to her about fatigue, as he had desired her to be silent.

Then he arose, and said unto her, "Take the horses, and ride on; and keep straight on before thee as thou didst yesterday."

Early in the day they left the wood, and they came. to an open country, with meadows on one hand and mowers mowing the meadows. There was a river before them, and the horses bent down, and drank the water. 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. He had a small blue pitcher in his hand, and a bowl on the mouth of the pitcher. 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. The youth cut the bread in slices, and gave them drink, and served them withal. 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." 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 armour 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 young man, and to conduct him to his lodging."

"Go gladly" said the Earl "and right joyfully shall he be received here, if he so come."

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. 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 mayest call to thee the woman of the house, if thou wilt."

Thereupon the man of the house came to Geraint, and welcomed him. "Oh, chieftain" he said, "hast thou taken thy meal?"

"I have" said he.

Then the youth spoke to him, and inquired if he would not drink something before he met the Earl. "Truly I will" said he. So the youth went into the town, and brought them drink. They drank.

"I must need sleep" said Geraint.

"Well" said the youth; "and whilst thou sleepest, I will go to see the Earl."

"Go gladly" he said, "and come here again when I require thee." Geraint went to sleep; and so did Enid also.

The youth came to the place where the Earl was, and the Earl asked him where the lodgings of the knight were, and he told him. "I must go" said the youth "to wait on him in the evening."

"Go" answered the Earl, "and greet him well from me, and tell him that in the evening I will go to see him."

Geraint inquired of the man of the house, whether there were any of his companions that he wished to invite to him, and he said that there were. "Bring them hither, and entertain them at my cost with the best thou canst buy in the town."

The man of the house brought there those whom he chose, and feasted them at Geraint's expense. Thereupon, behold, the Earl came to visit Geraint, and his twelve honourable knights with him.

Geraint rose up, and welcomed him. "Heaven preserve thee" said the Earl.

Then they all sat down according to their precedence in honour. 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 my own inclination."

Then the Earl cast his eye upon Enid, and he looked at her steadfastly. He thought he had never seen a maiden fairer or more comely than she. 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?"

"Ah, maiden" said he, "it cannot be pleasant to thee to journey thus with yonder man."

"It is not unpleasant to me" said she, "to journey the same road that he journeys."

"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."

"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 thine own good will, I protest that our union shall continue eternal and undivided as long as I remain alive."

Then she pondered these 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 any needless imputation; come here tomorrow, and take me away as though I knew nothing thereof."

At the usual hour they went to sleep. At the beginning of the night Enid slept a little; and at midnight she arose, and placed all Geraint's armour together, so that it might be ready to put on. 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. Although he was wroth with her, he took warning, and clothed himself. 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 eleven horses and the eleven suits of armour."

"Heaven reward thee, Lord" said he, "but I spent not the value of one suit of armour upon thee."

"For that reason" said he, " thou wilt be the richer. 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?"

He had only just reached his house, when, behold, the greatest tumult approached that was ever heard. When he looked out, he saw fourscore knights in complete armour around the house, with the Earl Dwrm at their head. "Where is the knight that was here?" said the Earl.

"By thy hand" said he, "he went hence some time ago."

"Wherefore villain" said he "didst thou let him go without informing me?"

"My Lord, thou didst not command me to do so, else would I not have allowed him to depart."

"What way dost thou think that he took?"

"I know not, except that he went along the high road."

They turned their horses' heads that way, and seeing the tracks of the horses upon the high road, they followed. When the maiden beheld the dawning of the day, she looked behind her, and saw vast clouds of dust coming nearer and nearer to her. Thereupon she became uneasy, and she thought that it was the Earl and his host coming after them.

Thereupon she beheld a knight appearing through the mist. "By my faith" said she, "though he should slay me, it were better for me to receive my death at his hands, than to see him killed without warning him. My Lord" she said to him, "seest thou yonder man hastening after thee, and many others with him?"

Then he turned upon the knight, and with the first thrust he threw him down under his horse's feet. As long as there remained one of the fourscore knights, he overthrew every one of them at the first onset. From the weakest to the strongest, they all attacked him one after the other, except the Earl: and last of all the Earl came against him also. He broke his lance, and then he broke a second. But Geraint turned upon him, and struck him with his lance upon the centre of his shield, so that by that single thrust the shield was split, and all his armour broken, and he himself was brought over his horse's crupper to the ground, and was in peril of his life.

Geraint drew near to him; and at the noise of the trampling of his horse the Earl revived. "Mercy Lord" said he to Geraint.

Geraint granted him mercy, but through the hardness of the ground where they had fallen, and the violence of the stroke which they had received, there was not a single knight amongst them that escaped without receiving a fall, mortally severe, and grievously painful, and desperately wounding, from the hand of Geraint.

Geraint journeyed along the high road that was before him, and the maiden went on first; and near them they beheld a valley which was the fairest ever seen, and which had a large river running through it; and there was a bridge over the river, and the high road led to the bridge. Above the bridge upon the opposite side of the river, they beheld a fortified town, the fairest ever seen. As they approached the bridge, Geraint saw coming towards him from a thick copse a man mounted upon a large and lofty steed, even of pace and spirited though tractable. "Ah knight" said Geraint, "whence comest thou?"

"I come" said he, "from the valley below us."

"I will tell thee willingly" said he. "Gwiffert Petit he is called by the Franks, but the Cymry call him the Little King."

"Can I go by yonder bridge" said Geraint, "and by the lower highway that is beneath the town?"

Said the knight, "Thou canst not go by his tower on the other side of the bridge, unless thou dost intend to combat him; because it is his custom to encounter every knight that comes upon his lands."

"I declare to Heaven" said Geraint, "that I will, nevertheless, pursue my journey that way."

"If thou doest so" said the knight, "thou wilt probably meet with shame and disgrace in reward for thy daring."

"Nay" answered Geraint "I knew not this road was forbid to any."

"Thou didst know it" said the other, "come with me to my Court, to give me satisfaction."

"That will I not, by my faith" said Geraint; "I would not go even to thy Lord's Court, excepting Arthur were thy Lord."

"By the hand of Arthur himself" said the knight, "I will have satisfaction of thee, or receive my overthrow at thy hands." Immediately they charged one another.

A squire of his came to serve him with lances as he broke them. They gave each other such hard and severe strokes, that their shields lost all their colour. But it was very difficult for Geraint to fight with him on account of his small size, for he was hardly able to get a full aim at him with all the efforts he could make. They fought thus until their horses were brought down upon their knees; and at length Geraint threw the knight headlong to the ground; and then they fought on foot, and, they gave one another blows so boldly fierce, so frequent, and so severely powerful, that their helmets were pierced, and their skullcaps were broken, and their arms were shattered, and the light of their eyes was darkened by sweat and blood.

"Though thou hast been neither courteous nor just" said Geraint, "thou shalt have mercy, upon condition that thou wilt become my ally, and engage never to fight against me again, but to come to my assistance whenever thou hearest of my being in trouble."

"This will I do gladly, Lord" said he. So he pledged him his faith thereof. "Now Lord, come with me" said he "to my Court yonder, to recover from thy weariness and fatigue."

"That will I not, by Heaven" said he.

Then Gwiffert Petit beheld Enid where she stood, and it grieved him to see one of her noble mien appear so deeply afflicted. He said to Geraint, "My Lord, thou doest wrong not to take repose, and refresh thyself awhile; for if thou meetest with any difficulty in thy present condition, it will not be easy for thee to surmount it." But Geraint would do no other than proceed on his journey, and he mounted his horse in pain, and all covered with blood. The maiden went on first, and they proceeded towards the wood which they saw before them.

The heat of the sun was very great, and through the blood and sweat, Geraint's armour cleaved to his flesh; and when they came into the wood, he stood under a tree, to avoid the sun's heat; and his wounds pained him more than they had done at the time when he received them. The maiden stood under another tree.

"Ah knight." said he "what dost thou here?"

"I am standing under a shady tree, to avoid the heat and the rays of the sun."

"Wherefore is thy journey, and who art thou?"

"I seek adventures, and go where I list."

"Indeed" said Kai "then come with me to see Arthur, who is here hard by."

"That will I not, by Heaven" said Geraint.

"Thou must needs come" said Kai. Then Geraint knew who he was, but Kai did not know Geraint.

Kai attacked Geraint as best he could. Geraint became wroth, and he struck him with the shaft of his lance, so that he rolled headlong to the ground. But chastisement worse than this would he not inflict on him.

"I care not if I do so" said Gwalchmai.

"Take then thy horse, and some of thy armour" said Kai; "for I hear that he is not over courteous to those who approach him."

So Gwalchmai took his spear and his shield, and mounted his horse, and came to the spot where Geraint was. "Sir Knight" said he, "wherefore is thy journey?"

"I journey for my own pleasure, and to seek the adventures of the world."

"Wilt thou tell me who thou art; or wilt thou come and visit Arthur, who is near at hand?"

"I will make no alliance with thee, nor will I go and visit Arthur" said he. He knew that it was Gwalchmai, but Gwalchmai knew him not.

"I purpose not to leave thee" said Gwalchmai, "till I know who thou art." He charged him with his lance, and struck him on his shield, so that the shaft was shivered into splinters, and their horses were front to front. Then Gwalchmai gazed fixedly upon him, and he knew him.

"Ah Geraint" said he, "is it thou that art here?"

"Geraint thou art, by Heaven" he replied, "and a wretched and insane expedition is this." Then he looked around, and beheld Enid, and he welcomed her gladly.

"Geraint" said Gwalchmai, "come thou and see Arthur; he is thy lord and thy cousin."

"I will not" said he, "for I am not in a fit state to go and see any one."

Thereupon behold, one of the pages came after Gwalchmai to speak to him. So he sent him to apprise Arthur that Geraint was there wounded, and that he would not go to visit him, and that it was pitiable to see the plight that he was in.

This he did without Geraint's knowledge, in as much as he spoke in a whisper to the page. "Entreat Arthur" said he, "to have his tent brought near to the road, for he will not meet him willingly, and it is not easy to compel him in the mood he is in."

"Heaven prosper thee; and who art thou?" said Arthur.

"It is Geraint" said Gwalchmai, "and of his own free will would he not come to meet thee."

"Verily" said Arthur, "he is bereft of his reason."

Then came Enid, and saluted Arthur. "Heaven protect thee" said he. Thereupon he caused one of the pages to take her from her horse. "Alas, Enid" said Arthur "what expedition is this?"

"I know not, Lord" said she "save that it behoves me to journey by the same road that he journeys."

"Whither wilt thou go?" said Arthur. "Thou canst not proceed now, unless it be unto thy death."

"He will not suffer himself to be invited by me" said Gwalchmai.

"But by me he will" said Arthur; "and more-over, he does not go from here until he is healed."

"I had rather, Lord" said Geraint, "that thou wouldest let me go forth."

"That will I not, I declare to Heaven" said he.

Then he caused a maiden to be sent for to conduct Enid to the tent where Gwenhwyvar's chamber was. Gwenhwyvar and all her women were joyful at her coming; and they took off her riding-dress, and placed other garments upon her. Arthur also called Kadyrieith, and ordered him to pitch a tent for Geraint and the physicians; and he enjoined him to provide him with abundance of all that might be requisite for him. Kadyrieith did as he had commanded him. Morgan Tud and his disciples were brought to Geraint.

Arthur and his hosts remained there nearly a month, whilst Geraint was being healed. When he was fully recovered, Geraint came to Arthur, and asked his permission to depart.

"I know not if thou art quite well."

"I shall not believe thee concerning that, but the physicians that were with thee."

Arthur caused the physicians to be summoned to him, and asked them if it were true. "It is true Lord" said Morgan Tud.

The next day Arthur permitted him to go forth, and he pursued his journey. on the same day Arthur removed thence. Geraint desired Enid to go on, and to keep before him, as she had formerly done. She went forward along the high road.

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 unto an open glade that was near the road. In the glade he saw two horses, one having a man's saddle, and the other a woman's saddle upon it. Behold, there was a knight lying dead in his armour, 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.

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. Each of them was greater of 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. 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, and opened his wounds anew, and all his blood began to flow from him.

Geraint drew his sword, and attacked the giant, and gave him 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. When he saw her, he fell down lifeless from his horse. Piercing, and loud, and thrilling was the cry that Enid uttered. She came and stood over him where he had fallen.

At the sound of her cries came the Earl of Limours, and the host that journeyed with him, whom her lamentations brought out of their road.

The Earl said to Enid, "Alas Lady, what hath befallen thee?"

Then he said to the other, "What is the cause of thy grief?"

"They have slain my beloved husband also" said she.

"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, his blood flowing excessively; but it appears to me that he did not leave the giants without killing some of them, if not all."

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.

"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 on thee; be, therefore, happy and joyful."

"I declare to Heaven" said she, "that henceforth I shall never be joyful while I live."

"Come then" said he, "and eat."

"No by Heaven, I will not" she answered.

"By Heaven, thou shalt" said he. He took her with him to the table against her will, and many times desired her to eat.

"Thou caust 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." 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 stayed by the table Then all left the board, and fled away. 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. Geraint looked upon Enid, and he was grieved for two causes; one was, to see that Enid had lost her colour 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 from the ground and placed her upon the horse with him.

Thereupon, behold a knight pricked towards him, and couched his lance. When Enid saw this, she cried out, saying, "Oh, chieftain, whoever thou art, what renown wilt thou gain by slaying a dead man?"

"Oh Heaven" said he, "is it Geraint?"

"Yes in truth" said she, "and who art thou?"

"I am the Little King" he answered, "coming to thy assistance, for I heard that thou wast in trouble. If thou hadst followed my advice, none of these hardships would have befallen thee."

"Nothing can happen" said Geraint, "without the will of Heaven, though much good results from counsel."

"I will do so gladly" said Geraint. Enid was placed upon the horse of one of the Little King's squires, and they went forward to the Baron's palace. 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. While Geraint was under medical care, the Little King caused his armour to be repaired, until it was as good as it had ever been. They remained there a fortnight and a month.

Then the Little King said to Geraint, "Now will we go towards my own Court, to take rest, and amuse ourselves."

"Not so" said Geraint, "we will first journey for one day more, and return again."

"With all my heart" said the Little King, "do thou go then."

Gwiffert asked the man whence he came. "I come" said he, "from an errand in the country."

"Tell me" said Geraint, "which is the best for me to follow of these two roads?"

"That is the best for thee to follow" answered he, "for if thou goest by this one, thou wilt never return. Below us" said he, "there is a hedge of mist, and within it are enchanted games, and no one who has gone there has ever returned. The Court of the Earl Owain is there, and he permits no one to go to lodge in the town, except he will go to his Court."

"I declare to Heaven" said Geraint, "that we will take the lower road." They went along it until they came to the town. They took the fairest and pleasantest place in the town for their lodging.

While they were thus, behold, a young man came to them, and greeted them. "Heaven be propitious to thee" said they.

"We are taking up our lodging" said they, "to pass the night."

"It is not the custom with him who owns the town" he answered, "to permit any of gentle birth, unless they come to stay in his Court, to abide here; therefore, come ye to the Court."

"We will come gladly" said Geraint.

They went with the page, and they were joyfully received. The Earl came to the hall to meet them, and he commanded the tables to be laid. They washed, and sat down. This is the order in which they sat, Geraint on one side of the Earl, and Enid on the other side and next to Enid the Little King, and then the Countess next to Geraint; and all after that as became their rank. Then Geraint recollected the games, and thought that he should not go to them; and on that account he did not eat.

Then the Earl looked upon Geraint, and considered, and he bethought him that his not eating was because of the games, and it grieved him that he had ever established those games, were it only on account of losing such a youth as Geraint. If Geraint had asked him to abolish the games, he would gladly have done so. Then the Earl said to Geraint, "What thought occupies thy mind, that thou dost not eat? If thou hesitatest about going to the games, thou shalt not go, and no other of thy rank shall ever go either."

"If that is what thou dost prefer, thou shalt obtain it willingly."

"I do prefer it indeed" said he.

Then they ate., and they were amply served, and they had a variety of gifts, and abundance of liquor. When they had finished eating they arose. Geraint called for his horse and his armour, and he accoutred both himself and his horse. All the hosts went forth until they came to the side of the hedge, and the hedge was so lofty, that it reached as high as they could see in the air, and upon every stake in the hedge, except two, there was the head of a man, and the number of stakes throughout the hedge was very great.

Then said the Little King, "May no one go in with the chieftain?"

"No one may" said Earl Owain.

"Which way can I enter?" inquired Geraint.

"I know not" said Owain "but enter by the way that thou wilt, and that seemeth easiest to thee."

Then fearlessly and unhesitatingly Geraint dashed forward into the mist.

Geraint went to the empty chair, and sat down therein.

"Ah chieftain" said the maiden, "I would not counsel thee to sit in that chair."

"Wherefore?" said Geraint.

"The man to whom that chair belongs has never suffered another to sit in it."

"I care not" said Geraint, "though it displease him that I sit in the chair."

"Tell me, chieftain" said he to Geraint, "who it was that bade thee sit there?"

"Myself" answered he.

"It was wrong of thee to do me this shame and disgrace. Arise, and do me satisfaction for thine insolence."

Then Geraint arose; and they encountered immediately; and they broke a set of lances, and a second set, and a third and they gave each other fierce and frequent strokes; and at last Geraint became enraged, and he urged on his horse, and rushed upon him, and gave him a thrust on the centre of his shield, so that it was split, and so that the head of his lance went through his armour, and his girths were broken, and he himself was borne headlong to the ground the length of Geraint's lance and arm, over his horse's crupper.

"Oh my Lord" said he, "thy mercy, and thou shalt have what thou wilt."

"Thou shalt have this gladly, Lord" he replied.

"Cause then the mist to disappear from this place" said Geraint.

"Sound yonder horn" said he, "and when thou soundest it, the mist will vanish; but it will not go hence unless the horn be blown by the knight by whom I am vanquished."

Sad and sorrowful was Enid where she remained, through anxiety concerning Geraint. Then Geraint went and sounded the horn. At the first blast he gave, the mist vanished. All the hosts came together, and they all became reconciled to each other.

The Earl invited Geraint and the Little King to stay with him that night. The next morning they separated.

Geraint went towards his own dominions; and thenceforth he reigned prosperously, and his warlike fame and splendour lasted with renown and honour both to him and to Enid from that time forth.And thus ends this portion of the Mabinogion.