The Mabinogion Vol. 2, Sir Owen Morgan Edwards and Lady Charlotte Schreiber [ereader android .txt] 📗

is near at hand?”  “I will make no alliance with thee, nor will I go and visit Arthur,” said he.  And he knew that it was Gwalchmai, but Gwalchmai knew him not.  “I p. 52purpose not to leave thee,” said Gwalchmai, “till I know who thou art.”  And 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?”  “I am not Geraint,” said he.  “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.  And this he did without Geraint’s knowledge, inasmuch 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.”  So the page came to Arthur, and told him this.  And he caused his tent to be removed unto the side of the road.  And the maiden rejoiced in her heart.  And Gwalchmai led Geraint onwards along the road, till they came to the place where Arthur was encamped, and the pages were pitching his tent by the road-side.  “Lord,” said Geraint, “all hail unto thee.”  “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,” p. 53said he.  And 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.”  “My Lord,” said Geraint, “with thy permission we will depart.”  “Whither wilt thou go?” said Arthur.  “Thou canst not proceed now, unless it be unto thy death.” [53]  “He will not suffer himself to be invited by me,” said Gwalchmai.  “But by me he will,” said Arthur; “and, moreover, 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.  And 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.  And Kadyrieith did as he had commanded him.  And Morgan Tud and his disciples were brought to Geraint.

And Arthur and his hosts remained there nearly a month, whilst Geraint was being healed.  And when he was fully recovered, Geraint came to Arthur, and asked his permission to depart.  “I know not if thou art quite well.”  “In truth I am, Lord,” said Geraint.  “I shall not believe thee concerning that, but the physicians that were with thee.”  So Arthur caused the physicians to be summoned to him, and asked them if it were true.  “It is true, Lord,” said Morgan p. 54Tud.  So the next day Arthur permitted him to go forth, and he pursued his journey.  And on the same day Arthur removed thence.  And Geraint desired Enid to go on, and to keep before him, as she had formerly done.  And she 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 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.  “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 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.  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, and opened his wounds p. 55anew, and all his blood began to flow from him.  But 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.  And when he saw her, 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 the host that 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, 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.  And the two damsels went to the court; and when they arrived there, Geraint was placed upon a litter-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.”  p. 56“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.  “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 stayed 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 p. 57dread 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 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.  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 trampling 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, “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.  And 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.”  “Yes,” said the Little King, “and I know good counsel for thee now.  Come with me to the court of a son-in-law of my sister, which is near here, and thou shalt have the