Mythology, Celtic -- Wales; Tales -- Wales; Welsh literature -- 1100-1400 -- Translations into English
Then Gwiffert Petit beheld Enid where she stood, and it grieved him to
see one of her noble mien appear so deeply afflicted. And he said to
Geraint, "My Lord, thou doest wrong not to take repose, and refresh
thyself awhile; for, if thou meetest with any difficulty in thy present
condition, it will not be easy for thee to surmount it." But Geraint
would do no other than proceed on his journey, and he mounted his horse
in pain, and all covered with blood. And the maiden went on first, and
they proceeded towards the wood which they saw before them.
And the heat of the sun was very great, and through the blood and sweat,
Geraint's armour cleaved to his flesh; and when they came into the wood,
he stood under a tree, to avoid the sun's heat; and his wounds pained him
more than they had done at the time when he received them. And the
maiden stood under another tree. And, lo! they heard the sound of horns,
and a tumultuous noise, and the occasion of it was, that Arthur and his
company had come down to the wood. And while Geraint was considering
which way he should go to avoid them, behold, he was espied by a foot
page, who was an attendant on the Steward of the Household, and he went
to the steward, and told him what kind of man he had seen in the wood.
Then the steward caused his horse to be saddled, and he took his lance
and his shield, and went to the place where Geraint was. "Ah, knight!"
said he, "what dost thou here?" "I am standing under a shady tree, to
avoid the heat and the rays of the sun." "Wherefore is thy journey, and
who art thou?" "I seek adventures, and go where I list." "Indeed," said
Kai, "then come with me to see Arthur, who is here hard by." "That will
I not, by Heaven," said Geraint. "Thou must needs come," said Kai. Then
Geraint knew who he was, but Kai did not know Geraint. And Kai attacked
Geraint as best as he could. And Geraint became wroth, and he struck him
with the shaft of his lance, so that he rolled headlong to the ground.
But chastisement worse than this would he not inflict on him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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