Chapter 2

The country they were in belonged to a cruel Earl. He had once wanted to marry Enid. When he heard that she was in his country, he made up his mind to kill Geraint, and make Enid marry him after all.

'I will go to the inn while they are still asleep,' thought the Earl, 'and kill the knight and take Enid away.'

But Geraint and Enid had got up very early that morning, and had left the five horses and the five suits of armour with the landlord, to pay him for their food and shelter.

By the time the Earl reached the inn Geraint and Enid had ridden a long way into a wild country.

Then the wicked Earl galloped after them, and Enid heard the sound of horse's hoofs coming nearer and nearer. As the horseman dashed down upon Geraint, Enid hid her face, and asked God to spare her dear lord's life once more.

The fight was long and fierce, but at last Geraint overthrew the Earl, and left him lying half-dead in the dust.

Still a little in front, Enid rode silently on, and Geraint followed, but he had been wounded in the fight with the Earl, though he did not tell Enid. And the wound bled inside his armour, till Geraint felt very faint, and suddenly everything seemed black in front of him. He reeled and fell from his horse on to a bank of grass.

Enid heard the crash of his armour as he fell, and in a moment she was beside him. She unbuckled the armour and took off his helmet Then she took her veil of faded silk and bound up his wound. But Geraint lay quite still.

Enid's horse wandered into a forest and was lost, but Geraint's noble war-horse kept watch with Enid, as if he understood.

About noon, the Earl, in whose country they now were, passed along with his followers. He saw the two by the wayside, and shouted to Enid, 'Is he dead?'

'No, no, not dead; he cannot be dead. Let him be carried out of the sun,' she entreated.

And Enid's great sorrow, and her great beauty, made the Earl a little less rough, and he told his men to carry Geraint to the hall. 'His charger is a noble one, bring it too,' shouted the Earl.

His men unwillingly carried Geraint to the hall, and laid him down on a stretcher there, and left him.

Enid bent over him, chafing his cold hands, and calling him to come back to her.

After a long time Geraint opened his eyes. He saw Enid tenderly watching him, and he felt Enid's tears dropping on his face. 'She weeps for me,' he thought; but he did not move, but lay there as if he were dead.

In the evening the Earl came into the great hall and called for dinner, and many knights and ladies sat down with him, but no one remembered Enid. But when the Earl had finished eating and drinking, his eye fell on her. He remembered how she had wept for her wounded lord in the morning.

'Do not weep any more, but eat and be merry. Then I will marry you, and you shall share my earldom, and I will hunt for you,' said the wild Earl.

Enid's head drooped lower, and she murmured, 'Leave me alone, I beseech you, for my lord is surely dead.'

The Earl hardly heard what she said, but thought Enid was thanking him. 'Yes, eat and be glad,' he repeated, 'for you are mine.'

'How can I ever be glad again?' said Enid, thinking, 'Surely Geraint is dead.'

But the Earl was growing impatient. He seized her roughly, and made her sit at the table, and he put food before her, shouting, 'Eat.'

'No,' said Enid, 'I will not eat, till my lord arises and eats with me.'

'Then drink,' said the Earl, and he thrust a cup to her lips.

'No,' said Enid, 'I will not drink, till my lord arises and drinks with me; and if he does not arise, I will not drink wine till I die.'

The Earl strode up and down the hall in a great rage. 'If you will neither eat nor drink, will you take off this old faded dress?' said the Earl. And he told one of his women to bring Enid a robe, which had been woven across the sea, and which was covered with many gems.

But Enid told the Earl how Geraint had first seen and loved her in the dress she wore, and how he had asked her to wear it when he took her to the Queen. 'And when we started on this sad journey, I wore it again, to win back his love,' she said, 'and I will never take it off till he arises and bids me.'

Then the Earl was angry. He came close to Enid, and struck her on the cheek with his hand.

And Enid thought, 'He would not have dared to strike me, if he had not known that my lord was truly dead,' and she gave a bitter cry.

When Geraint heard Enid's cry, with one bound he leaped to where the huge Earl stood, and with one swing of his sword cut off the Earl's head, and it fell down and rolled along the floor.

Then all the lords and ladies were afraid, for they had thought Geraint was dead, and they fled, and Geraint and Enid were left alone.

And Geraint never again thought that Enid loved the gay lords and ladies at King Arthur's court better than she loved him.

Then they went back to their own land. And soon the people knew that Prince Geraint had come back a true knight, and the old whispers that he was a coward faded away, and the people called him 'Geraint the Brave.'

And her ladies called Enid, 'Enid the Fair,' but the people on the land called her 'Enid the Good.'

LANCELOT AND ELAINE

Her name was Elaine. But she was so fair that her father called her 'Elaine the Fair,' and she was so lovable that her brothers called her 'Elaine the Lovable,' and that was the name she liked best of all.

The country people, who lived round about the castle of Astolat, which was Elaine's home, had another and a very beautiful name for her. As she passed their windows in her white frock, they looked at the white lilies growing in their gardens, and they said, 'She is tall and graceful and pure as these,' and they called her the 'Lily Maid of Astolat.'

Elaine lived in the castle alone with her father and her two brothers, and an old dumb servant who had waited on her since she was a baby.

To her father Elaine seemed always a bright and winsome child, though she was growing up now. He would watch her serious face as she listened to Sir Torre, the grave elder brother, while he told her that wise maidens stayed at home to cook and sew. And he would laugh as he saw her, when Sir Torre turned away, run off wilfully to the woods.

Elaine spent long happy days out of doors with her younger brother Lavaine. When they grew tired of chasing the butterflies and gathering the wildflowers, they would sit under the pine-trees and speak of Arthur's knights and their noble deeds, and they longed to see the heroes of whom they talked.

'And the tournament will be held at Camelot this year,' Lavaine reminded his sister. 'If some of the knights ride past Astolat, we may see them as they pass.' And Elaine and Lavaine counted the days till the tournament would begin.

Now Arthur had offered the prize of a large diamond to the knight who fought most bravely at the tournament.

But the knights murmured to each other, 'We need not hope to win the prize, for Sir Lancelot will be on the field, and who can stand before the greatest knight of Arthur's court?'

And the Queen heard what the knights said to each other, and she told Lancelot how they lost courage and hope when he came on to the field. 'They begin to think some magic is at work when they see you, and they cannot fight their best. But I have a plan. You must go to the tournament at Camelot in disguise. And though the knights do not know with whom they fight, they will still fall before the strength of Lancelot's arm,' added the Queen, smiling up to him.

Then Lancelot disguised himself, and left the court and rode towards Camelot. But when he was near Astolat he lost his way, and wandered into the old castle grounds, where Elaine stood, with her father and brothers.

And as Elaine's father, the old Baron, welcomed the knight, Lavaine and Elaine whispered together, 'This is better than to see many knights passing on their way to Camelot.'

And Lancelot stayed at Astolat till evening, and he told many tales of Arthur's court.

As Elaine and Lavaine listened to his voice, and looked at his face, with the scars of many battles on it, they loved him. 'I will be his squire and follow him,' thought Lavaine, and Elaine wished that she might follow the strange knight too. But Sir Torre, the grave elder brother, looked gloomily at the stranger, and wished he had not come to Astolat.

In the evening Sir Lancelot told the Baron how he was going in disguise to the tournament, and how, by mistake, he had brought his own shield with him. 'If you can lend me another, I will leave my shield with you till I come back from Camelot,' said the knight.

Then they gave him Sir Torre's shield, for Sir Torre had been wounded in his first battle, and could not go to the tournament. And Elaine came running gladly to take the strange knight's shield under her care. But none of them knew that it was Sir Lancelot's shield, for he had not told them his name.

And Elaine, carrying the shield with her, climbed the tower stair, up to her own little room. And she put the shield carefully into a corner, thinking, 'I will sew a cover for it, to keep it safe and bright.' Then she went downstairs again, and saw that the knight was going, and that Lavaine was going too.

'He has asked the knight to take him as his squire,' she thought. 'But although I cannot go,' she murmured sadly, 'I can ask him to wear my favour at the tournament.' For in those days a knight often wore the colours of the lady who loved him.

Very shyly Elaine told the knight her wish. Would he wear her favour at the tournament? It was a red sleeve, embroidered with white pearls.

Lancelot thought how fair Elaine was, as she looked up at him with love and trust in her eyes, but he told her gently that he had never yet worn a lady's favour, and that he could not wear hers.

'If you have never worn one before, wear this,' she urged timidly. 'It will make your disguise more complete.' And Lancelot knew that what she said was true, and he took the red sleeve embroidered with pearls, and tied it on his helmet.

So Elaine was glad, and after the knight and Lavaine had ridden away, she went up the turret stair again to her little room. She took the shield from the corner, and handled the bruises and dints in it lovingly, and made pictures to herself of all the battles and tournaments it had been through with her knight.

Then Elaine sat down and sewed, as Sir Torre would have wise maidens do. But what she sewed was a beautiful cover for the shield, and that Sir Torre would not have her do, for he cared neither for the strange knight nor his shield.

Lancelot rode on towards Camelot, with Lavaine as his squire, till they came to a wood where a hermit lived. And they stayed at the hermitage all night, and the next morning they rode on till they reached Camelot.

And when Lavaine saw the King sitting on a high throne, ready to judge which knight was worthy to have the diamond, he did not think of the grandeur of the throne, nor of the King's marvellous dress of rich gold, nor of the jewels in his crown. He could think only of the nobleness and beauty of the great King's face, and wish that his fair sister Elaine might see him too.

Then many brave knights began to fight, and all wondered why Sir Lancelot was not there. And they wondered more at the strange knight, with the bare shield and the red sleeve with pearls on his helmet, who fought so bravely and overthrew the others one by one.

And the King said, 'Surely this is Sir Lancelot himself.' But when he saw the lady's favour on the knight's helmet, he said, 'No, it cannot be Sir Lancelot.'

When at last the tournament was over, the King proclaimed that the strange knight who wore the red sleeve embroidered with pearls had won the prize, and he called him to come to take the diamond.

But no one came, and the knight with the red sleeve was nowhere to be seen. For Sir Lancelot had been wounded in his last fight, and when it was over, had ridden hastily from the field, calling Lavaine to follow. And when they had ridden a little way into the wood, Sir Lancelot fell from his horse. 'The head of the spear is still in my side,' he moaned; 'draw it out, Lavaine.'

At first Lavaine was afraid, for he thought of the pain it would give the knight, and he was afraid too that the wound would bleed till his knight bled to death. But because Sir Lancelot was in great suffering, Lavaine at last took courage, and pulled the head of the spear out of Lancelot's side. Then he, with great difficulty, helped the knight on to his horse, and slowly and painfully they rode towards the hermitage.

They reached it at last, and the hermit came out and called two of his servants to carry the knight into his cell; and they unarmed him and put him to bed. Then the hermit dressed the knight's wound and gave him wine to drink.

When King Arthur found the strange knight had disappeared, and heard that he was wounded, he said that the prize should be sent to so gallant a victor. 'He was tired and wounded, and cannot have ridden far,' said the King. And turning to Sir Gawaine, he gave him the diamond, and told him to go and find the knight and give him the prize he had won so bravely.

But Sir Gawaine did not want to obey the King. He did not want to leave the feasting and merriment that followed the tournament. Yet since all Arthur's knights had taken a vow of obedience, Gawaine was ashamed not to go, so sulkily, like no true knight, he left the feast.

And Sir Gawaine rode through the wood and past the hermitage where the wounded knight lay; and because he was thinking only of his own disappointment, his search was careless, and he did not see the shelter Sir Lancelot had found. He rode on till he came to Astolat. And when Elaine and her father and her brother Sir Torre saw the knight, they called to him to come in and tell them about the tournament, and who had won the prize.

Then Sir Gawaine told how the knight with the red sleeve embroidered with white pearls had gained the prize, but how, being wounded, he had ridden away without claiming it. He told too how the King had sent him to find the unknown knight and to give him the diamond.

But because Elaine was very fair, and because he did not greatly wish to do the order of the King, Sir Gawaine lingered there, wandering in the old castle garden, with 'the Lily Maid of Astolat.' And he told Elaine courtly tales of lords and ladies, and tried to win her love, but she cared for no one but the knight whose shield she guarded.

One day, as Elaine grew impatient with the idle Sir Gawaine, she said she would show him the shield the strange knight had left with her. 'If you know the arms engraved on the shield, you will know the name of the knight you seek, and perhaps find him the sooner,' she said.

And when Sir Gawaine saw the shield he cried, 'It is the shield of Sir Lancelot, the noblest knight in Arthur's court.'

Elaine touched the shield lovingly, and murmured, 'The noblest knight in Arthur's court.'

'You love Sir Lancelot, and will know where to find him,' said Sir Gawaine. 'I will give you the diamond, and you shall fulfil the King's command.'

And Sir Gawaine rode away from Astolat, kissing the hands of the fair Elaine, and leaving the diamond with her. And when he reached the court he told the lords and ladies about the fair maid of Astolat who loved Sir Lancelot. 'He wore her favour, and she guards his shield,' he said.

But when the King heard that Sir Gawaine had come back, without finding the strange knight, and leaving the diamond with the fair maid of Astolat, he was displeased. 'You have not served me as a true knight,' he said gravely; and Sir Gawaine was silent, for he remembered how he had lingered at Astolat.

When Elaine took the diamond from Sir Gawaine she went to her father. 'Let me go to find the wounded knight and Lavaine,' she said. 'I will nurse the knight as maidens nurse those who have worn their favours.' And her father let her go.

With the grave Sir Torre to guard her, Elaine rode into the wood, and near the hermitage she saw Lavaine.

'Take me to Sir Lancelot,' cried the Fair Elaine. And Lavaine marvelled that she knew the knight's name.

Then Elaine told her brother about Sir Gawaine, and his careless search for Lancelot, and she showed him the diamond she brought for the wounded knight.

'Take me to him,' she cried again. And as they went, Sir Torre turned and rode gloomily back to Astolat, for it did not please him that the Fair Elaine should love Sir Lancelot.

When Lavaine and Elaine reached the hermitage, the hermit welcomed the fair maid, and took her to the cell where Lancelot lay.

'The knight is pale and thin,' said Elaine; 'I will nurse him.'

Day by day and for many nights Elaine nursed him tenderly as a maiden should, till at last one glad morning the hermit told her she had saved the knight's life.

Then when Sir Lancelot grew stronger, Elaine gave him the diamond, and told him how the King had sent him the prize he had won so hardly. And Lancelot grew restless, and longed to be at the King's court once more.

When the knight was able to ride, he went back to Astolat with Elaine and Lavaine. And as he rested there, he thought, 'Before I go, I must thank the Lily Maid, and reward her for all she has done for me.'

But when he asked Elaine how he could reward her, she would answer only that she loved him, and wished to go to court with him, as Lavaine would do.

'I cannot take you with me,' said the knight courteously; 'but when you are wedded, I will give you and your husband a thousand pounds every year.'

But Elaine wanted nothing but to be with Sir Lancelot.

'My Lily Maid will break her heart,' said her father sadly, 'unless the knight treats her less gently.'

But Sir Lancelot could not be unkind to the maid who had nursed him so tenderly. Only, next morning when he rode away, carrying his shield with him, though he knew Elaine watched him from her turret window, he neither looked up nor waved farewell. And Elaine knew she would never see Sir Lancelot again.

Then day by day she grew more sad and still. 'She will die,' said her father sadly, as he watched her; and the grave Sir Torre sobbed, for he loved his sister dearly.

One day Elaine sent for her father to come to her little turret room.

'Promise me that when I die you will do as I wish. Fasten the letter I shall write tightly in my hand, and clothe me in my fairest dress. Carry me down to the river and lay me in the barge, and, alone with our old dumb servant, let me be taken to the palace.'

And her father promised. And when Elaine died there was great sadness in Astolat.

Then her father took the letter and bound it in her hand, and by her side he placed a lily. And they clothed her in her fairest dress, and carried her down to the river, and laid her in the barge, alone with the old dumb servant.

And the barge floated quietly down the stream, guided by the old dumb man.

Then when it reached the palace steps, it stopped, and the King and the Queen and all the knights and ladies came to see the strange sight.

And the King took the letter from the fair maid's hand and read it aloud.

'I am the Lily Maid of Astolat, and because Sir Lancelot left me, I make unto all ladies my moan. Pray for my soul.'

When they heard it the lords and ladies wept with pity.

And Sir Lancelot buried Elaine sadly. And sometimes when those who loved him were jealous and unkind, he thought tenderly of the pure and simple love of the Lily Maid of Astolat.

PELLEAS AND ETTARDE

Far away in a dreary land there lived a lad called Pelleas. The men were rough and the women grave in the dreary land where Pelleas lived.

To this far-away country there had come tales of the gay lords and ladies of Arthur's court.

Pelleas heard, in great astonishment, that the men in Arthur's country were brave and gentle, and that the women smiled. He would go away from his own land, he thought, and see these strange and happy people.

Soon the rough men in his country laughed at Pelleas, for he began to grow brave and gentle like the knights who were so often in his thoughts.

And the grave women looked at each other in surprise, as they saw the lad's bright face and caught the smile on his lips. Pelleas had been dreaming about the gay ladies he had heard of, till some of their gladness had passed into his face.

When he was older Pelleas left his country and all the land that belonged to him there. He would take his horse and his sword and ask the great King Arthur to make him one of his knights, for had he not learned knightly ways from the wonderful tales he had heard long ago?

After many days Pelleas reached the court. And when the King had listened to the young man's story, and had seen his beauty and strength, he gladly made him his knight.

Then Pelleas was ready to begin his adventures. He would go to Carleon, where, for three days, the King's tournament was to be held.

The King had promised a golden circlet and a good sword to the knight who showed himself the strongest. The golden circlet was to be given to the fairest lady in the field, and she was to be called the 'Queen of Beauty.'

On his way to Carleon, Pelleas rode along a hot and dusty road. There were no trees to shelter him from the scorching sun, but he rode on steadfastly, for he knew that a great shady forest lay before him.

When at last Pelleas reached the forest, he was so hot and tired that he dismounted, and tying his horse to a tree, he lay down gratefully under a large oak and fell asleep.

Sounds of laughter and merriment woke him, and opening his eyes he saw a group of maidens close by.

Pelleas was bewildered. Could they be wild woodland nymphs, he thought, as, only half-awake, he lay there, and watched them flitting in and out among the tall trees.

They wore bright dresses, blue and yellow and purple, and to Pelleas the forest seemed all aglow.

The maidens were talking together, and looking first in one direction and then in another. They were lost in the forest, on their way to the great tournament at Carleon.

Then the lost maidens caught sight of the knight, lying half-asleep under the oak-tree. 'He will be able to show us the way,' they said joyfully to one another, for they guessed that he too was on his way to the tournament.

'I will speak to the knight,' said the Lady Ettarde, the tallest and most beautiful of all the maidens, and she left the others and went towards Pelleas. But when she told the knight that she and her lords and ladies had lost their way, and asked him to tell her how to reach Carleon, he only looked at her in silence. Was she one of the woodland nymphs? Was he still dreaming, and was she the lady of his dreams?

As the lady still stood there, he roused himself and tried to speak. But because he was bewildered by her beauty, he stammered and answered foolishly.

The Lady Ettarde turned to the merry lords and ladies who had followed her. 'The knight cannot speak, though he is so strong and good-looking,' she said scornfully.

But Sir Pelleas was wide-awake at last. He sprang to his feet, and told the Lady Ettarde that he had been dreaming, and that she had seemed to him a part of his dream. 'But I too am going to Carleon,' he added, 'and I will show you the way.'

And as they rode through the forest Sir Pelleas was always at his lady's side. When the branches were in her way he pushed them aside, when the path was rough he guided her horse. In the evening when the Lady Ettarde dismounted, Pelleas was there to help her, and in the morning again it was Pelleas who brought her horse and helped her to mount.

Now the Lady Ettarde was a great lady in her own land; knights who had fought many battles and won great fame had served her, and she cared nothing for the young untried knight's love and service.