court,

Then were ye shamed, and, worse, might shame the Prince

dream:

Then suddenly she knew it and rejoiced, And answer'd, "Yea, I know it; your good gift,

So sadly lost on that unhappy night; Your own good gift!" "Yea, surely," said the dame,

"And gladly given again this happy morn. For when the jousts were ended yesterday, Went Yniol thro' the town, and everywhere

He found the sack and plunder of our house All scatter'd thro' the houses of the town;

And gave command that all which once

was ours,

Should now be ours again: and yester-eve,
While you were talking sweetly with your
Prince

Came one with this and laid it in my hand,
For love or fear, or seeking favor of us,
Because we have our earldom back again.
And yester-eve I would not tell you of it,
But kept it for a sweet surprise at morn.
Yea, truly is it not a sweet surprise ?
For I myself unwillingly have worn
My faded suit, as you, my child, have yours,
And howsoever patient, Yniol his.
Ah, dear, he took me from a goodly house,
With store of rich apparel, sumptuous fare,
And page, and maid, and squire, and
seneschal,

And pastime both of hawk and hound, and all

That appertains to noble maintenance. Yea, and he brought me to a goodly house; But since our fortune slipt from sun to shade,

And all thro' that young traitor, cruel

need

Constrain'd us, but a better time has come; So clothe yourself in this, that better fits Our mended fortunes and a Prince's bride: For tho' ye won the prize of fairest fair, And tho' I heard him call you fairest fair, Let never maiden think, however fair, She is not fairer in new clothes than old. And should some great court-lady say, the Prince

Hath pick'da ragged-robin from the hedge,

best,

That neither court nor country, tho' they sought

Thro' all the provinces like those of old That lighted on Queen Esther, has her match."

eye,

Without a mirror, in the gorgeous gown; Who, after, turn'd her daughter round, and said,

She never yet had seen her half so fair; And call'd her like that maiden in the tale,

Whom Gwydion made by glamour out of flowers,

And sweeter than the bride of Cassivelaun, Flur, for whose love the Roman Cæsar first

Invaded Britain, "but we beat him back, As this great prince invaded us, and we, Not beat him back, but welcomed him with joy.

And I can scarcely ride with you to court, For old am I, and rough the ways and wild;

But Yniol goes, and I full oft shall dream I see my princess as I see her now, Clothed with my gift, and gay among the gay.'

But while the women thus rejoiced,
Geraint

Woke where he slept in the high hall, and call'd

For Enid, and when Yniol made report Of that good mother making Enid gay In such apparel as might well beseem His princess, or indeed the stately queen, He answer'd; "Earl, entreat her by my love,

That morning, when they both had got

to horse,

Perhaps because he loved her passionately, And felt that tempest brooding round his heart,

Which, if he spoke at all, would break perforce

Upon a head so dear in thunder, said:
"Not at my side. I charge you ride be-
fore,

Ever a good way on before; and this
I charge you, on your duty as a wife,
Whatever happens, not to speak to me,
No, not a word!" and Enid was aghast;
And forth they rode, but scarce three
paces on,

When crying out "Effeminate as I am,
I will not fight my way with gilded

him.