Gustave Doré - Doré’s Illustrations for Idylls of the King

ENID HAS BEEN married to Prince Geraintone of Arthurs knights of the Round Tablefor a year, and at court, Enid is one of Queen Guineveres favorites. Afraid that his wife might be influenced by Guineveres adulterous behavior, Geraint takes her away from Camelot. Once they return to his own earldom, which has become lawless in his absence, Geraint becomes so obsessed with watching over Enid that he forgets all other duties, and is ridiculed by his own subjects. Enid feels she should say something to him, but cannot. One morning, as she watches Geraint sleeping, she begins to upbraid herself for not speaking frankly to her husband. He wakes, only to hear her last words: O me, I fear that I am no true wife. Assuming his wife has been unfaithful, he determines to ride forth into the wilderness accompanied by Enid, who is to put on her worst and meanest dress as a sign of her offense. As she prepares to leave, ignorant of what she has done wrong, Enid recalls her first meeting with Geraint.

A year earlier, while Geraint is attending the Queen at a royal hunt, they see a strange knight, accompanied by a dwarf and a lady, ride by. Curious, the Queen asks Geraint to find out his name. When the knight refuses to answer, thereby insulting Geraint and the Queen, Geraint follows him to avenge the insult. Geraints search leads him to the ruined castle of Yniol, Enids father, who invites Geraint to partake of his hospitality. As Yniol escorts Geraint through the courtyard,

He lookd and saw that all was ruinous.
Here stood a shattcrd archway plumed with fern;
And here had falln a great part of a tower,
Whole, like a crag that tumbles from the cliff,
And high above a piece of turret stair,
Worn by the feet that now were silent, wound
Bare to the sun, and monstrous ivy-stems
Claspt the gray walls with hairy-fibred arms,
And suckd the joining of the stones, and lookd
A knot, beneath, of snakes, aloft, a grove. (315325)

GERAINT IS SERVED that evening by Enid, who must assume the role of servant because her family is so poor. First attracted by her beauty, Geraint is further charmed at seeing her so sweet and serviceable, and before the evening is through he falls in love with her. Meanwhile Yniol tells Geraint that the knight he seeks is his own nephew, known as the sparrow-hawk. This knight, once Enids suitor, had been rejected by Yniol; infuriated, he brought Yniols family to ruin and usurped Yniols earldom. Geraint, on hearing the story, offers to challenge the sparrow-hawk at the tournament to be held the following day. Although he appreciates Geraints offer, Yniol explains that no man can tilt, Except the lady he loves best be there. Geraint then reveals that he loves Enid and, with Yniols permission, he will fight the sparrow-hawk and claim victory in her name. Yniol agrees and sends his wife to tell Enid, who doesnt respond with words, but is clearly honored by Geraints favor:

Nor did she lift an eye nor speak a word,
Rapt in the fear and in the wonder of it;
So moving without answer to her rest
She found no rest, and ever faild to draw
The quiet night into her blood, but lay
Contemplating her own unworthiness;
And when the pale and bloodless east began
To quicken to the sun, arose, and raised
Her mother too, and hand in hand they moved
Down to the meadow where the jousts were held,
And waited there for Yniol and Geraint.
And thither came the twain, and when Geraint
Beheld her first in field, awaiting him,
He felt, were she the prize of bodily force,
Himself beyond the rest could move
The chair of Idris. (528-543)

SOON THE TOURNAMENT grounds arc filled with knights and ladies, and the field is prepared: Two forks are fixt into the meadow ground, / And over these is laid a silver wand, / And over that is placed the sparrow-hawk, / The prize of beauty for the fairest there. For the past two years, Yniols nephew has won the prize, and so won the name sparrow-hawk. As he claims the prizenot expecting any challengersGeraint boldly comes forward. The two men are evenly matched, and the battle is fierce; just when both are nearly exhausted, Yniol cries to Geraint, Remember that great insult done the Queen. Inspired, Geraint conquers the sparrow-hawk and once again asks his name.

[T]he fallen man

Made answer, groaning, Edyrn, son of Nudd!
Ashamed am I that I should tell it thee.
My pride is broken: men have seen my fall.
Then, Edyrn, son of Nudd, replied Geraint,
These two things shalt thou do, or else thou diest.
First, thou thyself, thy lady, and thy dwarf,
Shalt ride to Arthurs court, and being there,
Crave pardon for that insult done the Queen,
And shalt abide her judgment on it; next,
Thou shalt give back their earldom to thy kin.
These two things shalt thou do, or thou shalt die.
And Edyrn answerd, These things will I do,
For I have never yet been overthrown,
And thou hast overthrown me, and my pride
Is broken down, for Enid sees my fall!
And rising up, he rode to Arthurs court,
And there the Queen forgave him easily. (575-592)

ENID AND GERAINT travel to Camelot after the tournament, where they are married with all ceremony Now, a year later, the two prepare for another journey. Geraint orders Enid to ride ahead of himnot by his sideand charges her, whatever happens, not to speak to him. As they travel, past bandit-haunted holds, / Gray swamps and pools, waste places of the hern, / And wildernesses, perilous paths, Enid notices three knights, caitiffs all, lying in wait for them. Despite Geraints command, Enid turns back to warn her husband. Angry that she has disobeyed, Geraint prepares to prove to her that his vigour is not lost. He conquers the villains, and claims as his prize their armor and horses, which he orders Enid to herd before her. They move on, and once more Enid spies three horsemen waiting to ambush them. She turns back again to warn Geraint:

There lurk three villains yonder in the wood,
And each of them is wholly armd, and one
Is larger-limbd than you are, and they say
That they will fall upon you while you pass.
To which he flung a wrathful answer back:
And if there were an hundred in the wood,
And every man were larger-limbd than I,
And all at once should sally out upon me,