They hated her, who took no thought of them, She spake so low he hardly heard her speak, With what himself had done so graciously, She answered meekly, "How should I be glad Here the huge Earl cried out upon her talk, "No, no,” said Enid, vext, "I will not eat, Till yonder man upon the bier arise, And eat with me." "Drink, then," he answered. "Here! (And filled a horn with wine and held it to her,) "Lo! I, myself, when flushed with fight, or hot, God's curse, with anger often I myself, Before I well have drunken, scarce can eat: Drink, therefore, and the wine will change your will.” "Not so," she cried, "by Heaven, I will not drink, Till my dear lord arise and bid me do it, And drink with me; and if he rise no more, I will not look at wine until I die.” At this he turned all red and paced his hall, Not eat nor drink? And wherefore wail for one, I love that beauty should go beautifully : He spoke, and one among his gentlewomen Displayed a splendid silk of foreign loom, Where like a shoaling sea the lovely blue Played into green, and thicker down the front With jewels than the sward with drops of dew, When all night long a cloud clings to the hill, And with the dawn ascending lets the day Strike where it clung: so thickly shone the gems. But Enid answered, harder to be moved Than hardest tyrants in their day of power, With life-long injuries burning unavenged, And now their hour has come; and Enid said: "In this poor gown my dear lord found me first, And loved me serving in my father's hall: In this poor gown I rode with him to court, And there the Queen arrayed me like the sun : In this poor gown he bade me clothe myself, When now we rode upon this fatal quest And bid me cast it. I have griefs enough: Yea, God, I pray you of your gentleness, Then strode the brute Earl up and down his hall, Dame, to be gentle than ungentle with you; Then Enid, in her utter helplessness, And since she thought, "He had not dared to do it, Except he surely knew my lord was dead,' Sent forth a sudden sharp and bitter cry As of a wild thing taken in the trap, Which sees the trapper coming through the wood. This heard Geraint, and grasping at his sword So died Earl Doorm by him he counted dead. Rose when they saw the dead man rise, and fled Were left alone together, and he said: "Enid, I have used you worse than that dead man; Done you more wrong: we both have undergone That trouble which has left me thrice your own: Henceforward I will rather die than doubt. And here I lay this penance on myself, Not, though mine own ears heard you yester-morn I swear I will not ask your meaning in it: And will henceforward rather die than doubt." And Enid could not say one tender word, She felt so blunt and stupid at the heart: |