thou art not of honor sufficient to befit thee to speak to my lord.”  Then the maiden turned her horse’s head towards the knight, upon which the dwarf struck her with the whip that was in his hand across the face and the eyes, so that the blood flowed forth.  And the maiden returned to Guenever, complaining of the hurt she had received.  “Very rudely has the dwarf treated thee,” said Geraint, and he put his hand upon the hilt of his sword.  But he took counsel with himself, and considered that it would be no vengeance for him to slay the dwarf, and to be attacked unarmed by the armed knight; so he refrained.

“Lady,” said he, “I will follow him, with thy permission, and at last he will come to some inhabited place, where I may have arms, either as a loan or for a pledge, so that I may encounter the knight.”  “Go,” said she, “and do not attack him until thou hast good arms; and I shall be very anxious concerning thee, until I hear tidings of thee.”  “If I am alive,” said he, “thou shalt hear tidings of me by to-morrow afternoon;” and with that he departed.

And the road they took was below the palace of Caerleon, and across the ford of the Usk; and they went along a fair and even and lofty ridge of ground, until they came to a town, and at the extremity of the town they saw a fortress and a castle.  And as the knight passed through the town all the people arose and saluted him, and bade him welcome.  And when Geraint came into the town, he looked at every house to see if he knew any of those whom he saw.  But he knew none, and none knew him, to do him the kindness to let him have arms, either as a loan or for a pledge.  And every house he saw was full of men, and arms, and horses.  And they were polishing shields, and burnishing swords, and washing armor, and shoeing horses.  And the knight and the lady and the dwarf rode up to the castle, that was in the town, and every one was glad in the castle.  And from the battlements and the gates they risked their necks, through their eagerness to greet them, and to show their joy.

Geraint stood there to see whether the knight would remain in the castle; and when he was certain that he would do so, he looked around him.  And at a little distance from the town he saw an old palace in ruins, wherein was a hall that was falling to decay.

   “And high above a piece of turret-stair,
   Worn by the feet that now were silent, wound
   Bare to the sun”

    —­Enid.

And as he knew not any one in the town, he went towards the old palace.  And when he came near to the palace, he saw a hoary-headed man, standing by it, in tattered garments.  And Geraint gazed steadfastly upon him.  Then the hoary-headed man said to him, “Young man, wherefore art thou thoughtful?” “I am thoughtful,” said he, “because I know not where to pass the night.”  “Wilt thou come forward this way, chieftain,” said he, “and thou shalt have of the best that can be procured for thee.”  So Geraint went