第24章 Geraint and Enid(1)

O purblind race of miserable men,How many among us at this very hour Do forge a life-long trouble for ourselves,By taking true for false,or false for true;Here,through the feeble twilight of this world Groping,how many,until we pass and reach That other,where we see as we are seen!

So fared it with Geraint,who issuing forth That morning,when they both had got to horse,Perhaps because he loved her passionately,And felt that tempest brooding round his heart,Which,if he spoke at all,would break perforce Upon a head so dear in thunder,said:

'Not at my side.I charge thee ride before,Ever a good way on before;and this I charge thee,on thy duty as a wife,Whatever happens,not to speak to me,No,not a word!'and Enid was aghast;And forth they rode,but scarce three paces on,When crying out,'Effeminate as I am,I will not fight my way with gilded arms,All shall be iron;'he loosed a mighty purse,Hung at his belt,and hurled it toward the squire.

So the last sight that Enid had of home Was all the marble threshold flashing,strown With gold and scattered coinage,and the squire Chafing his shoulder:then he cried again,'To the wilds!'and Enid leading down the tracks Through which he bad her lead him on,they past The marches,and by bandit-haunted holds,Gray swamps and pools,waste places of the hern,And wildernesses,perilous paths,they rode:

Round was their pace at first,but slackened soon:

A stranger meeting them had surely thought They rode so slowly and they looked so pale,That each had suffered some exceeding wrong.

For he was ever saying to himself,'O I that wasted time to tend upon her,To compass her with sweet observances,To dress her beautifully and keep her true'--And there he broke the sentence in his heart Abruptly,as a man upon his tongue May break it,when his passion masters him.

And she was ever praying the sweet heavens To save her dear lord whole from any wound.

And ever in her mind she cast about For that unnoticed failing in herself,Which made him look so cloudy and so cold;Till the great plover's human whistle amazed Her heart,and glancing round the waste she feared In ever wavering brake an ambuscade.

Then thought again,'If there be such in me,I might amend it by the grace of Heaven,If he would only speak and tell me of it.'

But when the fourth part of the day was gone,Then Enid was aware of three tall knights On horseback,wholly armed,behind a rock In shadow,waiting for them,caitiffs all;And heard one crying to his fellow,'Look,Here comes a laggard hanging down his head,Who seems no bolder than a beaten hound;Come,we will slay him and will have his horse And armour,and his damsel shall be ours.'

Then Enid pondered in her heart,and said:

'I will go back a little to my lord,And I will tell him all their caitiff talk;For,be he wroth even to slaying me,Far liefer by his dear hand had I die,Than that my lord should suffer loss or shame.'

Then she went back some paces of return,Met his full frown timidly firm,and said;'My lord,I saw three bandits by the rock Waiting to fall on you,and heard them boast That they would slay you,and possess your horse And armour,and your damsel should be theirs.'

He made a wrathful answer:'Did I wish Your warning or your silence?one command I laid upon you,not to speak to me,And thus ye keep it!Well then,look--for now,Whether ye wish me victory or defeat,Long for my life,or hunger for my death,Yourself shall see my vigour is not lost.'

Then Enid waited pale and sorrowful,And down upon him bare the bandit three.

And at the midmost charging,Prince Geraint Drave the long spear a cubit through his breast And out beyond;and then against his brace Of comrades,each of whom had broken on him A lance that splintered like an icicle,Swung from his brand a windy buffet out Once,twice,to right,to left,and stunned the twain Or slew them,and dismounting like a man That skins the wild beast after slaying him,Stript from the three dead wolves of woman born The three gay suits of armour which they wore,And let the bodies lie,but bound the suits Of armour 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 waste.

He followed nearer;ruth began to work Against his anger in him,while he watched The being he loved best in all the world,With difficulty in mild obedience Driving them on:he fain had spoken to her,And loosed in words of sudden fire the wrath And smouldered wrong that burnt him all within;But evermore it seemed an easier thing At once without remorse to strike her dead,Than to cry 'Halt,'and to her own bright face Accuse her of the least immodesty:

And thus tongue-tied,it made him wroth the more That she could speak whom his own ear had heard Call herself false:and suffering thus he made Minutes an age:but in scarce longer time Than at Caerleon the full-tided Usk,Before he turn to fall seaward again,Pauses,did Enid,keeping watch,behold In the first shallow shade of a deep wood,Before a gloom of stubborn-shafted oaks,Three other horsemen waiting,wholly armed,Whereof one seemed far larger than her lord,And shook her pulses,crying,'Look,a prize!

Three horses and three goodly suits of arms,And all in charge of whom?a girl:set on.'

'Nay,'said the second,'yonder comes a knight.'

The third,'A craven;how he hangs his head.'

The giant answered merrily,'Yea,but one?

Wait here,and when he passes fall upon him.'

And Enid pondered in her heart and said,'I will abide the coming of my lord,And I will tell him all their villainy.

My lord is weary with the fight before,And they will fall upon him unawares.

I needs must disobey him for his good;

How should I dare obey him to his harm?

Needs must I speak,and though he kill me for it,I save a life dearer to me than mine.'

And she abode his coming,and said to him With timid firmness,'Have I leave to speak?'

He said,'Ye take it,speaking,'and she spoke.