But Enid left alone with Prince Geraint, Debating his command of silence given, And that she now perforce must violate it, Held commune with herself, and while she held He fell asleep, and Enid had no heart To wake him, but hung o'er him, wholly pleased To find him yet unwounded after fight, And hear him breathing low and equally. Anon she rose, and stepping lightly, heap'd The pieces of his armor in one place, All to be there against a sudden need; Then dozed awhile herself, but over-toil'd By that day's grief and travel, evermore Seem'd catching at a rootless thorn, and then Went slipping down horrible precipices, And strongly striking out her limbs awoke; Then thought she heard the wild Earl at the door, With all his rout of random followers, Sound on a dreadful trumpet, summoning her; Which was the red cock shouting to the light, As the gray dawn stole o'er the dewy world, And glimmer'd on his armor in the room. And once again she rose to look at it, But touch'd it unawares: jangling, the casque Fell, and he started up and stared at her. Then breaking his command of silence given, She told him all that Earl Limours had said, Except the passage that he loved her not; Nor left unto the craft herself had used; But ended with apology so sweet, Low-spoken, and of so few words, and seem'd So justified by that necessity, That tho' he thought "was it for him she wept In Devon?" he but gave a wrathful groan, Saying, "Your sweet faces make good fellows fools And traitors. Call the host and bid him bring Charger and palfrey." So she glided out Among the heavy breathings of the house, And like a household Spirit at the walls Beat, till she woke the sleepers, and return'd. Then tending her rough lord, tho' all unask'd, In silence, did him service as a squire; Till issuing arm'd he found the host and cried, "Thy reckoning, friend?" and ere he learnt it, "Take Five horses and their armors;" and the host Suddenly honest, answer'd in amaze, "My lord, I scarce have spent the worth of one!" "Ye will be all the wealthier," said the Prince, And then to Enid, "Forward! and to-day I charge you, Enid, more especially, What thing soever ye may hear, or see, Or fancy (tho' I count it of small use To charge you) that ye speak not but obey." And Enid answer'd, "Yea, my lord, I know Your wish, and would obey; but riding first, I hear the violent threats you do not hear, I see the danger which you cannot see: Then not to give you warning, that seems hard; Almost beyond me: yet I would obey." "Yea so," said he, "do it: be not too wise; Seeing that ye are wedded to a man, Not all mismated with a yawning clown, But one with arms to guard his head and yours, With eyes to find you out however far, And ears to hear you even in his dreams."