GERAINT AND THE FAIR Enid abode more than a year at Arthur's court; Enid winning daily more and more the love of all by her gentleness and goodness, and Geraint being ever amongst the foremost in the tournament. But presently there came word of robber raids upon the borders of Devon; wherefore the Prince craved leave of Arthur to return to his own land, there to put down wrong and oppression, and maintain order and justice. And the King bade him go and secure to every man his due.

      So Geraint passed to his own land, Enid going with him; and soon he had driven the oppressors from their strongholds and established peace and order, so that the poor man dwelt in his little cot secure in his possessions. But when all was done, and there was none dared defy him, Geraint abode at home, neglectful of the tournament and the chase, and all those manly exercises in which he had once excelled, content if he had but the companionship of his wife; so that his nobles murmured because he withdrew himself from their society, and the common people jeered at him for a laggard.

      Now these evil rumours came to Enid's ears, and it grieved her that she should be the cause, however unwillingly, of her husband's dishonour; and since she could not bring herself to speak to her lord of what was in her heart, daily she grew more sorrowful, till the Prince, aware of her altered demeanour, became uneasy, not knowing its source.

      So time went by till it chanced, one summer morning, that with the first rays of the sun, Enid awoke from her slumbers, and, rising, gazed upon her husband as he lay, and marvelled at his strength. "Alas!" said she, "to be the cause that my lord suffers shame! Surely I should find courage to tell him all, were I indeed true wife to him!" Then, by ill chance, her tears falling upon him awoke him, so that he heard her words, but brokenly, and seeing her weep and hearing her accuse herself, it came into his thought that, for all his love and care for her, she was weary of him, nay, even that perhaps she loved him not at all. In anger and grief he called to his squire and bade him saddle his charger and a palfrey for Enid; and to her he said: "Put on thy meanest attire, and thou shalt ride with me into the wilderness. It seems that I have yet to win me fame; but before thou seest home again, thou shalt learn if indeed I am fallen so low as thou deemest." And Enid, wondering and troubled, answered, "I know naught of thy meaning, my lord." "Ask me nothing," said Geraint. So sorrowfully and in silence Enid arrayed herself, choosing for her apparel the faded robe and veil in which first her lord had seen her.

      Then the squire brought them their horses; but when he would have mounted and ridden after, Geraint forbade him. And to Enid the Prince said: "Ride before me and turn not back, no matter what thou seest or hearest. And unless I speak to thee, say not a word to me."

      So they rode forward along the least frequented road till they came to a vast forest, which they entered. There Enid, as she rode in front, saw four armed men lurking by the road, and one said to the other: "See, now is our opportunity to win much spoil at little cost; for we may easily overcome this doleful knight, and take from him his arms and lady." And Enid hearing them, was filled with fear and doubt; for she longed to warn her lord of his danger, yet feared to arouse his wrath, seeing he had bidden her keep silence. Then said she to herself: "Better to anger him, even to the slaying of me, than have the misery of seeing him perish." So she waited till Geraint drew near, and said: "Lord, there lie in wait for thee four men fully armed, to slay and rob thee." Then he answered her in anger: "Did I desire thy silence or thy warning? Look, then, and whether thou desirest my life or my death, thou shalt see that I dread not these robbers." Then, as the foremost of the four rode upon him, Geraint drove upon him with his spear with such force that the weapon stood out a cubit behind him; and so he did with the second, and the third, and the fourth. Then, dismounting from his horse, he stripped the dead felons of their armour, bound it upon their horses, and tying the bridle reins together, bade Enid drive the beasts before her. "And," said he, "I charge thee, at thy peril, speak no word to me."

      So they went forward; and presently Enid saw how three horsemen, well armed and well mounted, rode towards them. And one said to the other: "Good fortune, indeed! Here are four horses and four suits of armour for us, and but one knight to deal with; a craven too, by the way he hangs his head." Then Enid thought within herself how her lord was wearied with his former combat, and resolved to warn him even at her own peril. So she waited till he was come up with her, and said: "Lord, there be three men riding towards us, and they promise themselves rich booty at small cost." Wrathfully spoke Geraint: "Their words anger me less than thy disobedience"; and immediately rushing upon the mid-most of the three knights, he bore him from his horse; then he turned upon the other two who rode against him at the same moment, and slew them both. As with the former caitiffs, so now Geraint stripped the three of their armour, bound it upon the horses, and bade Enid drive these forward with the other four.

      Again they rode on their way, and, for all his anger, it smote Geraint to the heart to see the gentle lady labouring to drive forward the seven horses. So he bade her stay, for they would go no farther then,