So the maiden went forward, keeping in advance of Geraint, as he had desired her; and it grieved him as much as his wrath would permit, to see a maiden so illustrious as she having so much trouble with the care of the horses.  Then they reached a wood, and it was both deep and vast, and in the wood night overtook them.  “Ah, maiden,” said he, “it is vain to attempt proceeding forward.”  “Well, lord,” said she, “whatever thou wishest, we will do.”  “It will be best for us,” he answered, “to rest and wait for the day, in order to pursue our journey.”  “That we will, gladly,” said she.  And they did so.  Having dismounted himself, he took her down from her horse.  “I cannot by any means refrain from sleep, through weariness,” said he; “do thou therefore watch the horses, and sleep not.”  “I will, lord,” said she.  Then he went to sleep in his armor, and thus passed the night, which was not long at that season.  And when she saw the dawn of day appear, she looked around her to see if he were waking, and thereupon he woke.  Then he arose, and said unto her, “Take the horses and ride on, and keep straight on as thou didst yesterday.”  And they left the wood, and they came to an open country, with meadows on one hand, and mowers mowing the meadows.  And there was a river before them, and the horses bent down and drank of the water.  And they went up out of the river by a lofty steep; and there they met a slender stripling with a satchel about his neck, and they saw that there was something in the satchel, but they knew not what it was.  And he had a small blue pitcher in his hand, and a bowl on the mouth of the pitcher.  And the youth saluted Geraint.  “Heaven prosper thee!” said Geraint; “and whence dost thou come?” “I come,” said he, “from the city that lies before thee.  My lord,” he added, “will it be displeasing to thee if I ask whence thou comest also?” “By no means; through yonder wood did I come.”  “Thou camest not through the wood to-day.”  “No,” he replied, “we were in the wood last night.”  “I warrant,” said the youth, “that thy condition there last night was not the most pleasant, and that thou hadst neither meat nor drink.”  “No, by my faith,” said he.  “Wilt thou follow my counsel,” said the youth, “and take thy meal from me?” “What sort of meal?” he inquired.  “The breakfast which is sent for yonder mowers, nothing less than bread and meat and wine, and if thou wilt, sir, they shall have none of it.”  “I will,” said he, “and Heaven reward thee for it.”

So Geraint alighted, and the youth took the maiden from off her horse.  Then they washed, and took their repast.  And the youth cut the bread in slices, and gave them drink, and served them withal.  And when they had finished, the youth arose and said to Geraint, “My lord, with thy permission, I will now go and fetch some food for the mowers.”  “Go first to the town,” said Geraint, “and take a lodging for me in the best place that thou knowest, and the most commodious one for the horses;