Soon they passed from the forest into open land, and came upon a river flowing through broad meadows where the mowers toiled.  Then, as they waited to let the horses drink their fill, there drew near a youth, bearing a basket of bread and meat and a blue pitcher covered over with a bowl.  So when the youth saluted them, Geraint stayed him, asking whence he came.  “My lord,” said the lad, “I am come from the town hard by, to bring the mowers their breakfast.”  “I pray thee, then,” said the Prince, “give of the food to this lady, for she is faint.”  “That will I gladly,” answered the youth, “and do ye also partake, noble sir”; and he spread the meal for them on the grass while they dismounted.  So when they had eaten and were refreshed, the youth gathered up the basket and pitcher, saying he would return to the town for food for the mowers.  “Do so,” said the Prince, “and when thou art come there, take for me the best lodging that thou mayst.  And for thy fair service, take a horse and armour, whichsoever thou wilt.”  “My lord, ye reward me far beyond my deserts,” cried the youth.  “Right gladly will I make all ready against your arrival, and acquaint my master, the Earl, of your coming.”

So Geraint and Enid followed after the youth to the town, and there they found everything prepared for their comfort, even as he had promised; for they were lodged in a goodly chamber well furnished with all that they might require.  Then said Geraint to Enid:  “Abide at one end of the room and I will remain at the other.  And call the woman of the house if thou desirest her aid and comfort in aught.”  “I thank thee, lord,” answered Enid patiently; but she called for no service, remaining silent and forlorn in the farthest corner of the great chamber.

Presently there came to the house the Earl, the youth’s master, and with him twelve goodly knights to wait upon him.  And Geraint welcomed them right heartily, bidding the host bring forth his best to furnish a feast.  So they sat them down at the table, each in his degree according to his rank, and feasted long and merrily; but Enid remained the while shrinking into her corner if perchance she might escape all notice.

As they sat at the banquet, the Earl asked Prince Geraint what quest he followed.  “None but mine own inclination and the adventure it may please heaven to send,” said Geraint.  Then the Earl, whose eye had oft sought Enid as she sat apart, said:  “Have I your good leave to cross the room and speak to your fair damsel?  For she joins us not in the feast.”  “Ye have it freely,” answered the Prince.  So the Earl arose, and approaching Enid, bowed before her, and spoke to her in low tones, saying:  “Damsel, sad life is yours, I fear, to journey with yonder man.”  “To travel the road he takes is pleasant enough to me,” answered Enid.  “But see what slights he puts upon you!  To suffer you to journey thus, unattended by page or maiden, argues but little love or reverence for you.”