One from the bandit scatter’d in the field,
  And one from Edyrn.  Every now and then,
  When Edyrn rein’d his charger at her side,
  She shrank a little.  In a hollow land,
  From which old fires have broken, men may fear
  Fresh fire and ruin.  He, perceiving, said: 

    “Fair and dear cousin, you that most had cause
  To fear me, fear no longer, I am changed. 
  Once, but for my main purpose in these jousts,
  I should have slain your father, seized yourself. 
  I lived in hope that sometime you would come
  To these my lists with him whom best you loved;
  And there, poor cousin, with your meek blue eyes,
  The truest eyes that ever answer’d Heaven,
  Behold me overturn and trample on him.

    Then, had you cried, or knelt, or pray’d to me,
  I should not less have kill’d him.  And 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. 
  There was I broken down; there was I saved: 
  Tho’ thence I rode all-shamed, hating the life
  He gave me, meaning to be rid of it. 
  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 talk’d 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. 
  And you were often there about the Queen,
  But saw me not, or mark’d 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.”

    He spoke, and Enid easily believed,
  Like simple noble natures, credulous
  Of what they long for, good in friend or foe,
  There most in those who most have done them ill. 
  And when they reach’d the camp the King himself
  Advanced to greet them, and beholding her
  Tho’ pale, yet happy, ask’d her not a word,
  But went apart with Edyrn, whom he held
  In converse for a little, and return’d,
  And, gravely smiling, lifted her from horse,
  And kiss’d her with all pureness, brother-like,
  And show’d an empty tent allotted her,
  And glancing for a minute, till he saw her
  Pass into it, turn’d to the Prince, and said: