Geraint and enid. Geraint And Enid by Alfred Lord Tennyson 2022-10-15
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Geraint and Enid is a Welsh Arthurian legend that tells the story of a brave knight and his devoted wife. The tale is found in the Welsh collection of legends known as the Mabinogion, and it is one of the most well-known stories from Welsh mythology.
Geraint, also known as Geraint the Elder, was a great warrior and one of King Arthur's closest friends. He was known for his strength and bravery, and he was a loyal servant to the king. Geraint had a beautiful wife named Enid, who was known for her kindness and grace. Despite his great love for her, Geraint was not always kind to Enid. In fact, he was often harsh and critical of her, and he would frequently test her loyalty and faithfulness.
One day, Geraint decided to set out on a quest, and he left Enid behind at their castle. While he was gone, a young knight named Edeyrn fell in love with Enid and asked her to marry him. Enid refused, stating that she was already married to Geraint and that she could not betray her husband's love. Edeyrn was not deterred, however, and he continued to pursue Enid.
When Geraint returned from his quest, he was angered to learn of Edeyrn's advances towards his wife. He accused Enid of being unfaithful and ordered her to prove her loyalty by accompanying him on a difficult and dangerous journey. Enid agreed to go with Geraint, and the two set out on their journey.
As they traveled, Geraint became increasingly harsh and cruel towards Enid, constantly berating and belittling her. Despite this, Enid remained loyal and devoted to her husband, and she refused to give up on him. She hoped that by showing him her unwavering love and faithfulness, she could help him to see the error of his ways and become a better man.
Eventually, the two arrived at a castle where they were welcomed by a kind and generous host. While they were there, Geraint overheard a conversation between two knights who were discussing a challenge that had been issued by a fierce giant. Geraint, being the brave and courageous knight that he was, decided to accept the challenge and fight the giant.
Despite being vastly outnumbered and outmatched, Geraint emerged victorious from the battle with the giant. However, his victory came at a great cost, as he was severely injured and left for dead. Enid, who had watched the battle from afar, rushed to Geraint's side and tended to his wounds. She remained by his side, nursing him back to health and showing him the love and care that he had so often denied her.
Through Enid's devotion and care, Geraint was able to recover and he came to see the error of his ways. He apologized to Enid for his harsh treatment of her and vowed to always be kind and loving towards her. From then on, Geraint and Enid lived happily together, and their love for each other grew stronger every day.
The story of Geraint and Enid is a tale of loyalty, love, and redemption. It teaches us the importance of forgiveness and the power of true love to transform even the most stubborn of hearts. It is a timeless story that has been passed down through the ages and will continue to be told for generations to come.
Idylls of the King—Book 4: Geraint And Enid by Alfred Lord Tennyson
And if he want me, let him come to me. He moving up with pliant courtliness, Greeted Geraint full face, but stealthily, In the mid-warmth of welcome and graspt hand, Found Enid with the corner of his eye, And knew her sitting sad and solitary. At which the warrior in his obstinacy, Because she kept the letter of his word, Was in a manner pleased, and turning, stood. And there he kept the justice of the King So vigorously yet mildly, that all hearts Applauded, and the spiteful whisper died: And being ever foremost in the chase, And victor at the tilt and tournament, They called him the great Prince and man of men. 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.
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 every wavering brake an ambuscade. He moving homeward babbled to his men, How Enid never loved a man but him, Nor cared a broken egg-shell for her lord. . Then shall my name not suffer loss. So died Earl Doorm by him he counted dead. And when they reached the camp the King himself Advanced to greet them, and beholding her Though pale, yet happy, asked her not a word, But went apart with Edyrn, whom he held In converse for a little, and returned, And, gravely smiling, lifted her from horse, And kissed her with all pureness, brother-like, And showed an empty tent allotted her, And glancing for a minute, till he saw her Pass into it, turned to the Prince, and said: 'Prince, when of late ye prayed me for my leave To move to your own land, and there defend Your marches, I was pricked with some reproof, As one that let foul wrong stagnate and be, By having looked too much through alien eyes, And wrought too long with delegated hands, Not used mine own: but now behold me come To cleanse this common sewer of all my realm, With Edyrn and with others: have ye looked At Edyrn? 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.
His very face with change of heart is changed. But Enid in their going had two fears, One from the bandit scattered in the field, And one from Edyrn. Then those who sat at meat fled shrieking, for they believed that the dead had come to life. New officers and judges are appointed to "guard the justice of the King," and the army destroys all the bandits' strongholds. But Enid, whom her ladies loved to call Enid the Fair, a grateful people named Enid the Good; and in their halls arose The cry of children, Enids and Geraints Of times to be; nor did he doubt her more, But rested in her fealty, till he crowned A happy life with a fair death, and fell Against the heathen of the Northern Sea In battle, fighting for the blameless King. Anon she rose, and stepping lightly, heaped The pieces of his armour in one place, All to be there against a sudden need; Then dozed awhile herself, but overtoiled By that day's grief and travel, evermore Seemed catching at a rootless thorn, and then Went slipping down horrible precipices, And strongly striking out her limbs awoke; Then thought she heard the wild Earl at the door, With all his rout of random followers, Sound on a dreadful trumpet, summoning her; Which was the red cock shouting to the light, As the gray dawn stole o'er the dewy world, And glimmered on his armour in the room. Then cried Geraint for wine and goodly cheer To feed the sudden guest, and sumptuously According to his fashion, bad the host Call in what men soever were his friends, And feast with these in honour of their Earl; "And care not for the cost; the cost is mine.
The soldiers and women scatter in panic. And wherefore wail for one, Who put your beauty to this flout and scorn By dressing it in rags? And he, she dreaded most, bare down upon him. But while the sun yet beat a dewy blade, The sound of many a heavily-galloping hoof Smote on her ear, and turning round she saw Dust, and the points of lances bicker in it. But at the flash and motion of the man They vanished panic-stricken, like a shoal Of darting fish, that on a summer morn Adown the crystal dykes at Camelot Come slipping o'er their shadows on the sand, But if a man who stands upon the brink But lift a shining hand against the sun, There is not left the twinkle of a fin Betwixt the cressy islets white in flower; So, scared but at the motion of the man, Fled all the boon companions of the Earl, And left him lying in the public way; So vanish friendships only made in wine. 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. Scared and wildly Kai arose, and he mounted his horse, and went back to his lodging. Till at the last he wakened from his swoon, And found his own dear bride propping his head, And chafing his faint hands, and calling to him; And felt the warm tears falling on his face; And said to his own heart, 'She weeps for me:' And yet lay still, and feigned himself as dead, That he might prove her to the uttermost, And say to his own heart, 'She weeps for me.
But while the sun yet beat a dewy blade, The sound of many a heavily-galloping hoof Smote on her ear, and turning round she saw Dust, and the points of lances bicker in it. And wherefore wail for one, Who put your beauty to this flout and scorn By dressing it in rags? Bookfinder4u will not under any circumstances be liable to you or any other person for any loss due to the use of these content. Edyrn has done it, weeding all his heart As I will weed this land before I go. And here I lay this penance on myself, Not, though mine own ears heard you yestermorn-- You thought me sleeping, but I heard you say, I heard you say, that you were no true wife: I swear I will not ask your meaning in it: I do believe yourself against yourself, And will henceforward rather die than doubt. 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. His very face with change of heart is changed.
And, Enid, you and he, I see with joy, Ye sit apart, you do not speak to him, You come with no attendance, page or maid, To serve you--doth he love you as of old? There the great Queen once more embraced her friend, And clothed her in apparel like the day. Sweet lady, never since I first drew breath Have I beheld a lily like yourself. For, call it lovers' quarrels, yet I know Though men may bicker with the things they love, They would not make them laughable in all eyes, Not while they loved them; and your wretched dress, A wretched insult on you, dumbly speaks Your story, that this man loves you no more. Then breaking his command of silence given, She told him all that Earl Limours had said, Except the passage that he loved her not; Nor left untold the craft herself had used; But ended with apology so sweet, Low-spoken, and of so few words, and seemed So justified by that necessity, That though he thought 'was it for him she wept In Devon? Summary Geraint and Enid set out on their journey that very morning. This work of his is great and wonderful. Not eat nor drink? And so you came,— But once you came,—and with your own true eyes Beheld the man you loved I speak as one Speaks of a service done him overthrow My proud self, and my purpose three years old, And set his foot upon me, and give me life. Not a hoof left: and I methinks till now Was honest—paid with horses and with arms; I cannot steal or plunder, no nor beg: And so what say ye, shall we strip him there Your lover? Then were they welcomed by the King himself and a tent assigned to them, where Geraint rested until his wounds were healed.
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! Once she looked back, and when she saw him ride More near by many a rood than yestermorn, It wellnigh made her cheerful; till Geraint Waving an angry hand as who should say 'Ye watch me,' saddened all her heart again. But as a man to whom a dreadful loss Falls in a far land and he knows it not, But coming back he learns it, and the loss So pains him that he sickens nigh to death; So fared it with Geraint, who being pricked In combat with the follower of Limours, Bled underneath his armour secretly, And so rode on, nor told his gentle wife What ailed him, hardly knowing it himself, Till his eye darkened and his helmet wagged; And at a sudden swerving of the road, Though happily down on a bank of grass, The Prince, without a word, from his horse fell. Soon they passed from the forest into open land, and came upon a river flowing through broad meadows where the mowers toiled. And you were often there about the Queen, But saw me not, or marked not if you saw; Nor did I care or dare to speak with you, But kept myself aloof till I was changed; And fear not, cousin; I am changed indeed. And this was not so much through fear of the living as through the dread they felt at seeing the dead man rise up to slay them.
All such content is provided to you "as is. And all the penance the Queen laid upon me Was but to rest awhile within her court; Where first as sullen as a beast new-caged, And waiting to be treated like a wolf, Because I knew my deeds were known, I found, Instead of scornful pity or pure scorn, Such fine reserve and noble reticence, Manners so kind, yet stately, such a grace Of tenderest courtesy, that I began To glance behind me at my former life, And find that it had been the wolf's indeed: And oft I talked with Dubric, the high saint, Who, with mild heat of holy oratory, Subdued me somewhat to that gentleness, Which, when it weds with manhood, makes a man. I have griefs enough: Pray you be gentle, pray you let me be: I never loved, can never love but him: Yea, God, I pray you of your gentleness, He being as he is, to let me be. And they came to the main road. Good luck had your good man, For were I dead who is it would weep for me? And be he dead, I count you for a fool; Your wailing will not quicken him: dead or not, Ye mar a comely face with idiot tears. And Geraint went to the empty chair, and sat down therein.
I needs must disobey him for his good; How should I dare obey him to his harm? Then, had you cried, or knelt, or prayed to me, I should not less have killed him. And Enid took a little delicately, Less having stomach for it than desire To close with her lord's pleasure; but Geraint Ate all the mowers' victual unawares, And when he found all empty, was amazed; And "Boy," said he, "I have eaten all, but take A horse and arms for guerdon; chose the best. Till at the last he wakened from his swoon, And found his own dear bride propping his head, And chafing his faint hands, and calling to him; And felt the warm tears falling on his face; And said to his own heart, 'She weeps for me:' And yet lay still, and feigned himself as dead, That he might prove her to the uttermost, And say to his own heart, 'She weeps for me. Then, fearing for his hurt and loss of blood, She, with her mind all full of what had chanced, Shrieked to the stranger 'Slay not a dead man! Then he dismounted, and went into the tent; and there was no one in the tent save one maiden sitting in a golden chair, and another chair was opposite to her, empty. See ye take the charger too, A noble one. 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 bad me clothe myself, When now we rode upon this fatal quest Of honour, where no honour can be gained: And this poor gown I will not cast aside Until himself arise a living man, And bid me cast it.