ENID A LYRIC PLAY THE MUSIC BY VINCENT THOMAS I THE PLAY BY ERNEST RHYS LONDON J. M. DENT & COMPANY & 30 BEDFORD STREET, W.C. • MCMVIII Digitized by tine Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/enidlyricplaywriOOrhysrich t IAj^ ENID A LYRIC PLAY First Produced at the Court Theatre Nov, 24TH, 1908 Uniform with this Volume LAYS OF THE ROUND TABLE, AND OTHER Lyric Romances. GWENEVERE: A Lyric Play. By ERNEST RHYS. Crown 8vo, ENID: A LYRIC PLAY WRITTEN FOR MUSIC : THE MUSIC BY VINCENT THOMAS THE PLAY BY ERNEST RHYS LONDON J. M. DENT & COMPANY 29 & 30 BEDFORD STREET • MCMVIII All Rights Reserved ) J STORY OF THE PLAY The story of Enid follows, with some change oi motive, one of the most beautiful of all the Celtic romances, that of " Geraint the son of Erbin " in the MaUnogion. To bring it within the compass of the stage, the earlier episodes of Geraint's own story are omitted; but the playgoer will better understand the play if their relation to the opening scenes is made clear. In the first act of the play, Geraint says he has come from Arthur's court ** On a strange quest, to avenge a blow ! " The episode of the blow, which occurs before the point at which the play takes up the tale, is thus exquisitely told in the romance. Gwenhwyvar (Gwenevere), Arthur's queen, and Geraint were watching the hunt in the forest near Caerleon, when they heard a loud noise of horses' hoofs : — " And they beheld a dwarf riding upon a horse, stately, and foaming, and prancing, and strong, and spirited. And in the hand of the dwarf was a whip. And near the dwarf they saw a lady upon a beautiful white horse, of steady and stately pace ; and she was clothed in a garment of gold brocade. And near her was a knight upon a warhorse of large size, with heavy and bright armour both upon himseM and upon his horse." The queen asks Geraint if he knows the knight, 5 381801 6. . ,^ . .-^-SSPRY. OF THE PLAY and finding he does not, sends a maiden to question the dwarf. But the dwarf answers churHshly, refusing to tell her and striking her with his whip over the face so that the blood flows. Next Geraint goes to the dwarf, and repeats the question. Fail- ing an answer, he is riding to ask it of the strange knight himself, when " the dwarf overtook him, and struck him as he had done the maiden, so that the blood coloured the scarf that Geraint wore. Then Geraint put his hand upon the hilt of his sword, but he took counsel with himself, and considered that it would be no vengeance for him to slay the dwarf, and to be attacked unarmed by the armed knight, so he returned to where Gwenhwyvar was. " ' Thou hast acted wisely and discreetly,' said she. ' Lady,' said he, * I will follow him yet, with thy permission ; and at last he will come to some inhabited place, where I may have arms either as a loan or for a pledge, so that I may encounter the knight.' ' Go,' said she, ' and do not attack him until thou hast good arms, and I shall be very anxious concerning thee, until I hear tidings of thee.' " Geraint thereupon follows the strange knight with the lady and the dwarf : — " And the road they took was below the palace of Caerleon, and across the ford of the Usk ; and they went along a fair, and even, and lofty ridge of ground, until they came to a town, and at the end of the town they saw a Fortress and a Castle. And as the knight passed through the town all the people arose, and STORY OF THE PLAY 7 saluted him, and bade him welcome. And when Geraint came into the town, he looked at every house, to see if he knew any of those whom he saw. But he knew none, and none knew him to do him the kindness to let him have arms either as a loan or for a pledge. And every house he saw was full of men, and arms, and horses. And they were polishing shields, and burnishing swords, and washing armour, and shoeing horses. And the knight, and the lady, and the dwarf rode up to the Castle that was in the town, and every one was glad in the Castle. And from the battlements and the gates they risked their necks, through their eagerness to greet them, and to show their joy." Here in the street of the old walled town, below the Castle of Caerdydd, and at the moment before the three travellers, who are being followed by Geraint, arrive, the first scene of the play opens. The main lines of the romance are preserved in the action and episodes that follow. But in the play Geraint 's several antagonists are all resolved into one — Earl Dwrm, the holder of the Sparrow- Hawk and lord and castellan of Caerdydd; and the struggle for Enid, the Sparrow-Hawk, and the town and castle, is all cast into a romantic duel between the two chief male characters. And as the original may be said to be in a sense the romance of a small mediaeval town, with the town itself and its citadel really counting among the characters, an attempt has been made to suggest on the stage too the life of 8 STORY OF THE PLAY the place. For a town, too, has individuahty, and survives the hfe and death of many knights and castellans, as the actual city of Caerdydd has sur- vived to become to-day the Welsh capital. Stated then in its simplest form, the play is one of two acts; — the isf, which is of Enid's Deliver- ance, turning upon the fight for the Sparrow-Hawk, and all the worship and lordship appertaining to it, including the chivalrous winning of Enid herself; ilie 2nd, which is of Enid's Probation, turning upon love's reversal, and the Life-in-Death of Geraint, the dead who rouses himself only at the last moment to save and deliver the requiting blow of the folk-tales. The town and the voices of the town break through the romance, and complete, as they began, the play. Romance is the imagination of men and women tragically sensitive to occasion, place, and neighbour- hood, and powerfully subject to circumstance. It is not in great favour on the stage to-day. Mr. Shaw, the great anti-romantic of our time, has helped to put it out of fashion. M. Maeterlinck and Mr. W. B. Yeats, on the other hand, have done much to give it new life and new significance. To supply it with its requisite full aroma and rich sustaining atmo- sphere in the theatre, music is, surely, all but indis- pensable; and wherever this play falls short as a play only, I look to Mr. Vincent Thomas's music to save the situation and preserve the illusion — the lyric and romantic make-believe. E. R. CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY Earl Dwrm, Knight of the Sparrovv-Hawk, Castellan of Caerdydd Ynwl, the Grey Earl, dispossessed by Earl DwTm Geraixt, Sox of Erbin, challenger for the Sparrow-Hawk PwcA, THE Dwarf, Earl Dwrm's Retainer 1ST Armourer A Herald The Countess, Ynwl's Wife Enid, Ynwl's Daughter Ermelin, Lady of the Sparrow-Hawk 1ST AND 2ND DaMOSELS Armourers, Smiths, Townsfolk, Masquers, Mourners, Sewing- Women, and Herb Maidens ENID ACT I. Scene I. A street below the Castle at Caerdydd : Armourers at work without the gate, and smiths in forge. Sewing-maidens sit at the doors of the upper street, which leads to a bridge and old ruinous doorway, — the house of the Grey Earl, Ynwl. Smiths and Armourers. " Hammer hard, Forge the blade, Weld the sword ! The war-lord's stay is the armourer ! Weld it fast,— Thrice assayed In the fiery blast, — Weld the sword we call Sans-peur! " Sewing-Maidens . We have sewn with silken craft The tawny tunic for the knight, % Who takes at morn the ashen shaft, Tipt with fire, to ride and fight. Needle, needle, make it true : Let no sword-play pierce it thro'. < " < , « * 9 > -"j > i. I3f.'. ?-.>, 7-': .:• •':^ • . ENID He who wears it shall not fear When the men their war-song sing : And there rides the rigid spear, And the Hawk claps either wing : Needle, needle, make it true : Let no sword-play pierce it thro'. Armourers. Strike home For the sword Sans-peur ! Every death the knight shall deal First must come from the armourer, The forge shall fire the living steel. [Enter Herald, hearing the Sparrow- Hawk on a rod, attended by a drummer- hoy, drumming a tattoo?^ Herald, Oyez! oyez! oyez! Know ye, sirs, the hawk is set. To cry the tourney, field, and street. To-morrow he that holds the bird. The red Earl Dwrm, our iron lord, Stands all comers with his sword. Now, by the Hawk, he doth defy Any knight that may ride by Between green grass and open sky! [A joyous clamour, with huzzas and Mowing of horns without] ENID 13 CHORUS Boys, Armourers, Maidens. Lord of the Hawk, Earl D\\Tm, is come, Our Castellan rides home, Hawk, and horse, and dwarf hke sin. And his pale Lady Ermelin ; And woe to the misbegotten knight Shall with Earl Dwrm to-morrow fight. Lord of the Silver Bird, Bring out his burnished sword ! [Enter Earl Dwrm, newly alighted from his horse, attended by the Lady Erme- lin, and the Dwarf] Dwrm. Come, townsmen, armourers, To-night, pitch tent; To-morrow, spears and tournament. At noon the tourney shall begin, And Heaven send the best man win ! [Two Armourers hearing a sword wrapped in a crimson mantle : they kneel, offer- ing it] Armourers. Lord of the Silver Bird! We bring you the predestined sword And pray you pardon him that was The Master of our Fallen House, Ynwl the Grey. 14 ENID Dwrm. I need no sword ; Give it your own Grey Lord, And bid him tame the Sparrow-Hawk At mom upon the tourney-sward, ist Armourer. Sire, he is old! Dwrm. Let him buy youth ! 2nd Armourer. Sire, he is poor! Dwrm. He has a daughter, fair And passing young; her hair. Yellow as gold, they say. Fair as the day, [He laughs] Let him sell her ! Armourers [turning to the Lady Ermelin] Oh Lady, must we pray You of your grace to stoop And lift the Grey Earl up ? Ermelin [pulling them back] Take it to grey Ynwl : What did the Lord Dwrm say ? [Aside] He hath a daughter then. Fair in the sight of men. [To the Earl Dwrm] My lord, let us fare home ! I am tired of the town. Dwrm. Herald, attend: Has any tall knight drawn this way During the day, Worthy to match with mine his spear? ENID 15 Herald. A knight ? — not one ! Tumblers and singing men, Beggars and dancers then. Have passed me in the sun : As is their wont and way Before the Hawk's great day; But never a knight, not one ! Dwrm. Well, I will think it hard If no knight start full tilt To challenge for the Bird: And the red-blood be spilt. As in great tournament, To-morrow when the horn Sounds from my sunlit tent. Rousing the mom. Ermelin [going] . And that Hawk mine. And I the Queen to reign — No rival, shining on the scene. Dwrm. Yes, lady, crowned then ! Sole queen. Queen Ermelin Of the Hawk. [Then, as she goes, he pauses, and looks up at the window of the Grey Earl's ruined half] Yet there's a queen unseen. Within that sombre place. His daughter Enid's face Has troubled — taunted me. Since the last time the Bird i6 ENID O'erperched the tourney-sward. Her looks are bright-eyed songs Singing her father's wrongs: What are his wrongs to mine While her sad eyes so shine ? Shall eyes subdue the sword ? This night at our high feast, I'll bid her pledge the Bird, Welcome — unwelcome guest. And she shall own me lord. [Exit] Dwarf [pirouetting]. " Til-de-rwm I Tal-de-rwm, Carolled Twm Teini f " . . . Where is the sword You forged for my lord ? What the earl will not do, Let the dwarf! Bring the sword, — and glaives, too. Come, armourers, — and knaves too. Arm me now, arm me all ! Dwarfs shall stand when men fall. I will ask at this door The old lord of his grace That his daughter's fair face Favour me ! . . . Smith [driving him away]. Get you below, Pwca, to earth ! Never forge of mine glow, ENID 17 Never sword the steel shew, To arm thy mad mirth. Dwarf. Til'de-rwm! Who comes to the town, Moody as pride. With no squire at his heel ? This is he. Tho' the gown Of a bat he has on, There's a kite fledged inside Whose claw^s are of steel. Let him come, I am gone ! Til-de-rwm, tal-de-rwm : Let me hide, let me see What his bat-cry may be ? [Disappears in doorway] [Enter Geraint] Geraint [to the smiths] . What is this busy town ? [The smiths go on striking and pay no heed] Dwarf [from the door]. Sparrow-Hawk Town. Geraint. Imp of the night ! what croak Was that, what mischief spoke? Sweet girls, I beg you say Where a far traveller may This night find lodging here ? [The girls pay no heed] i8 ENID Dwarf [looking out of window] . "There came a pig from Caledon: " Tis he, the very one, I struck, — the very knight, — In the High Queen's despite. [Exit hastily] [Enter Ynwl, the Grey Earl] Ynwl. Who knock'd? Geraint. Not I ! But I am glad, sire, of your grace : What is this warhke place ? YnwL This is the town That once was known As mine : Ah, sir. You are a stranger here, — I am ashamed to say. Enter my house, and see What slender courtesy Remains of the great array My father left to me ! Geraint. I read thy seigneury In every word! Night falls: I cannot see Thy face, fair lord ! I have come, faring west, Come far, — from Arthur's court, — On a strange quest. To avenge a blow: ENID 19 That is my tale all short. Ynwl. Enter, then, unknown guest, What poor fare we may have, This night is truly thine. [They enter the old house, the stage turning dark as they pass up the steps to the doorway'] Scene II. Outer chamber of the Grey Earl's House : an old, high-windowed, tapestried hall, with hare furniture, and one long oaken table. Enid, in an old vest and gown of tattered satin, sitting alone in the half -darkness. Enid. Oh, the Birds of Rhianon They sing time away. Seven years in their singing Are gone like a day. Eight score years are nothing When they sing to men. But when their song's over. Woe, woe to you then. You shall know all the sorrow You had, to your cost. All the leaves that are fallen. All the friends you have lost. 20 ENID What you loved in the morning, Shall die with the day; — Oh, the Birds of Rhianon, They sing time away ! This is the eve of sad St. John : And there is feasting in the town. To-morrow mom the bells will ring For the Sparrow-Hawk to clap his wing. Who was it called me ? It grows late : I thought one knock'd there at the gate ? [Enter the Countess] Countess. Dear child, . . . what noise There is in the town to-night. Shouting of merry boys, — It means, the torches light The Earl Dwrm to his seat. Where once he knelt and bowed To kiss thy father's feet. Enid. But hear ! . . . [Shouting in the town] There, still more loud. Again ! There came a knock Louder than all the crowd. [Knocking at the door. Enid opens : enter her father and Geraint] Ynwl. Knight, you will sup, and be This night our guest. Dear heart, [To Enid] Steal forth into the town. ENID 21 And bring back meat and wane. Enid. Father, — our pence are gone. To the last penny, — gone! Countess [aside]. Child, take my ring instead; Bring hither meat, red wine And manchets of white bread. Enid. Mother, I go : Fair sire. Forgive me, that I leave Thy courteous side a while. Geraint [rising]. Maiden, let me too go, And guard thee in the town. Enid [at the door] . Thanks for thy grace ; but no, This errand is mine own. And when this cloak is thrown Over my terrors, I, Safe as the bat, go by. [Exii] Geraint. That star is from the sky, — It should overlook the dark Not pass in the night street Where the town-mongrels bark. And the train-bands go by. Tell me, fair sir, the fate That overstept thy gate. And hurt thy house, and left Its beauty so bereft ? Ynwl. Sire, I was lord of all. 22 ENID Castle and castle-wall : A thousand spears up-sprung When I went out to war: Then, in my force, I wrung My brother's lands away : — Time went : ill days drew nigh : The Black Plague stole my strength, Ay, stole the very sun Out of the summer sky : Then night — Earl Dwrm — drew on ; Sieged my strong hall and town. Ten years it is, this day. Since from the tournament The Hawk was borne away To the Earl Dwrm's proud tent. Geraint. Sire, is this earl the same. That has a dwarf at heel. The dog of his good fame. The rag of his bright steel ? Sire, I would give my blood And body for one joust On the green grass, — one thrust With a bright glaive, — one rood To be his grave, or mine ! Ynwl. I have no arms to shine On the green sward, — the rust Is on my sword and spear : But, knight, they shall be yours. ENID 23 Your real need, I fear, Is, as the Hawk requires. Some Queen of High Estate To be your tourney-queen When you attaint the shield And challenge the fair field! Geraint. Lord, I have seen the face. This night, shall be my friend From now, world without end. [As he speaks the great door is thrown open, and Enid stands there, against the darkness, her face bright-lit from the gleam of the candles within] Geraint. There is that Face and Light, Shall give me grace and might. When my good steed keeps time And pace in the early prime. Maiden, — thy grace, for I Would at the tourney joust. And you shall be my trust. Enid. Father, what stars have shone. Then, as I cross' d the town ? Geraint. Lady, — if I have dream'd In red revenge to hurl The Earl Dwrm down at last : Now, other hghts have gleamed Out of the middle dark. 24 ENID For thy sake, I would ride When the hawk's jesses ring In the bright morning- tide. Enid. Alas, good knight ! I have no silver sleeve To bind in all men's sight Above thy helm . . . Gerainf. Lady, thou hast a gleam Of stars about the hem Of thy pale loveliness : Countess. Poor star: she has no light. Come, prithee, let us sup I Hunger, I doubt, has made Wild music in thy head. [They sit to the table] Ynwl. What sound should that be ? [A noise of feet and shouting in the street, followed by a loud knocking at the door] Revellers. This is the eve of good St. John, Let in the Masquers of the Hawk, Let in the Herald to the HaU! [Ynwl opens the door at length : a wild throng of masquers rush in, led by the dwarf, and followed by the Herald and the drummer-boy] Dwarf. Til-de-rwm ! Tal-de-rwm Carolled Tom Teeny. Herald. Sire, the Earl doth crave Thy daughter Enid's grace At this night's festival. ENID 25 He doth return, for her sweet sake, Those things the rascal dwarf did take When siege was laid to town and hall. Dwarf [aside] . Rascal dwarf ! they shall see A point to that rascality. [To Ynwl\ My lord, the Herald did not say The half he ought ! . . . Herald. Sire ! Earl Dwrm would bid Thy dame and thy bright daughter share Their feasting too. Ynwl. It is enough ! Not I or mine At the earl's feast this night need shine : We entertain this knightly guest. And keep at home our jousting feast. Dwarf. Knight ! this is the knave That felt my lash at Caerleon ! Masquers, — come dance, and let him have Mad music, ere the taper's out. [Dance of masquers, led by the dwarf] Geraint [rising]. Hold, revellers! I am a Knight ! . . . [Laughter] I am a Knight of Arthur's court. Dwarf [mimicking]. He is a Knight of Arthur's court; He means he is a kitchen-knave ! Sing, — scullion! . . . Armourer. Hold hard, my masters, hold! Suppose this be King Arthur's man ! 26 ENID Earl Dwrm would not that we should play The devil in Earl Ynwl's house ! Sir, take this sword we call Sans-peur, Take, try it on this Bwa bach ! ^ [He unwraps the sword and hands it to Gerainf] Dwarf [leading the dance] . Scullion, scullion, find a fork, And fight to-morrow for the Hawk. Geraint. Away, you rabble, bear This gnome back to his master dear. The red knight of the Sparrow-Hawk : One man there is among ye, one : And he shall tell the Earl for me At morn I challenge for the Bird, Using, good armourer, thy sword. Dwarf [waving them off] . Away, you rabble ! . . . Geraint, poising Sans-peur in his hand, sings the SONG OF THE SWORD I. You are light in my hand As a windrush might be : Ay, — so light As the froth on the sand Or the foam on the sea, And as bright. * Little Hunchback. ENID 27 II. When you felt the red fire Of the forge as it played, Did you feel Too my fear and desire Run like blood on your blade And blue steel ? HI. There is One I have seen Step from darkness this night, Like the morrow Dawning brightly between The dark walls — like delight After sorrow. IV. For her sake be a brand In my spirit's eclipse, — Be a flame And a bolt in my hand, — And a laugh on the lips Of her fame ! V. And her crescent of steel. And my deathless desire Taking word, — / 28 ENID In one ring, in one wheel Now surround her with fire, My bright sword ! [As he ends, he presses them hack at the sword's point. They rally once, and then retreat, thronging the door as the curtain drops'] Scene III. Town wall and turret near the Grey Earl's house, overlooking the tourney- field. Noise of shout- ing afar; drums heating, horns sounding, hells ringing ! [Enter Grey Earl] Ynwl. There is the sound I used to greet As gaily as Earl Dwrm this day : But age wears lead upon his feet And his bent head is grey: Ha, who comes here ? Black mischief's messenger. [Enter Dwarf] Dwarf. Sire, my lord would say Forgiving your despite Of his good-will last night. He bids your daughter this day Beside the Lady Ermelin To watch the tourney on the green. Ynwl. I thank his grace ! ENID 29 The Lady Enid here would stay And watch afar the j ousters play. Dwarf [looking from the battlement] . Humph : much may she see ! Ynwl. She may see knights go down : It is enough, — away ! Dwarf. I go, I go, — thy daughter too, Across the town. [Attempts to pass] Ynwl. Not that road, Evil-wit, Imp of the Pit! [Enter Gerainf] Ynwl. Stay him, sir knight ! Dwarf. Stay me, and I will sting. [Draws his dagger] I have a letter here. For the lady, Enid ! [Geraint lays hold on him and draws the letter from his belt, and drops him over the battle- ment. Geraint [looking round] . How now ? Dwarf [below]. Ha, ha! Til-de-rwm, tal-de-rwm, Carolled Twm Teeny ! Ynwl. And now, good knight. This mom shall quickly speed : How fits thy jesseraunt? Not very well, indeed. / 30 ENID Now, I must step below: I hear the hostler with thy steed . . . Geraint [holding the letter]. What of this thing — Brought by the dwarf? Ynwl. Enid shall join thee straight To bind thy badge, Geraint, And read the script. [Exit Ynwl] Geraint. Strange that this letter seems To burn between my hands ! All last night, in my dreams, I rode thro* desolate lands — Hunting a silver faun : I rode her down, at dawn, Beneath a secret tree : And then, — And then what should it be ? The mournful eyes grew bright With a most human sigh ! And lo ! the sun stood in his height. And shot long shafts of light. And the white faun was gone, But in her place. One fitful moment, shone The maiden Enid's face. Beneath the early sun. And then, — And then, I stood alone. ENID 31 [Enter Enid] Enid. Good-morrow, knight: I greet you courteously ! My father says you bear A letter for me there. Geraint. Here is the cursed thing : Tear it in little bits, Lest it should bear a sting Like him that brought it. Enid. Tear it to pieces, — nay : For I would read it too. Hand it me, then . . . Geraint [handing it] . Lady, — great need have I Of your good grace this day. To be my sun in the sky: Remember, he that wrote. The Earl Dwrm, is the lord. That this day is my man Upon the tourney-sward ! Enid. True, — and ere I bind on This little band of blue. Now, let me see thy sword. Geraint [drawing his sword]. Take heed, its teeth are keen ! Enid. The better then to bite. [She pierces the letter with the sword-point] 32 ENID Geraint. I fear it pierced thy hand ! Nay, nay now: let me see. One drop of thy red blood. Thou White Faun, of the wood. Is more than battle-cries to me ! You think my words are wild, You think my love a dream : Too true, I dreamt last night I chased a silver faun That took thy shape at dawn. And now, I fear, by day. Lest all your form of light. And you should fade away Into a faun again : And when this tourney's o'er. And I ride to thy door, I find your face no more. Enid. This little band of blue Bound on a pearly ring. My heart's most precious thing. My only girdle-string, Shall bind me fast to you. Now, many a spear be broken And many a knight give way Yet shall this girlish token [kneeling] ENID 33 Keep thee from hurt this day ! O knight, I hear the tourney-bell ! My father calls. Farewell! [Exit Geraint] [Enid ascends the turret] Enid [in great excitement] . Ah why, why beat so fast ? For each step of his feet, My pulses faster beat ? Ah there, — he turned at last To look ; what makes you dim. You eyes, to look at him? — Now he is lost to sight, Within the castle lane. Where the red flag is bright ! Now, see, his helm again ! Oh Flag, endue my knight With all thy red renown ! See now, the tourney-field. Outspread beyond the town, Small as a kerchief there. [She runs down the turret steps in her excitement, to meet the Grey Earl and Countess as they enter below] Ynwl. I hear the herald's voice Arouse the tourney-tents. 34 ENID Countess. From the tall turret-top Look, Enid, be our eyes. What do you see ? . . . Enid. Small as a blackbird there, I see a glossy knight Start out, curvet, and pass. And now, — another knight, In rusty habergeon. Breaks pace upon the grass : 'Tis Geraint ! — oh, my soul ! [Horns, a ringing of hells, and shouts] Ynwl. The challenge, — there's the bell ! And now, — the trumpets speak. Enid. Now, the whole field is spread And very still : The ladies* booth is white and red Beneath the castle hill : And thrice I see a kerchief thrown, To flutter down: ... Now, now, my girdle blue, My Httle band, be true ! You know if Geraint faU, Who this day's bound with you. My hope, my heart and all, Die with him too ! . . . [Renewed shouts, a dull thunder of hoofs, and then a crash and outcry] Ynwl. Child, do not hide thine eyes : ENID 35 We cannot clearly see : A dust doth seem to rise About the hawk's cross-tree. Which knight is uppermost ? The black knight or the brown ? For surely one went down ! Enid. Oh father, father dear, I cannot see for fear ! Ynwl. Nay, do not fear, but see What thing may be ! Enid. Where are the horses now? The horsemen have stept free, Earl Dwrm there, black as death Would break my silken band. Count. Child, child, what do you say ? Enid. I mean, with sword in hand, Geraint, my band-bearer, Bare-headed there, . . . Ynwl. What ? he hath lost his helm ? Count. Oh, would I were as young As once I was, to stand and see — [A cry of " Dwrm, Dwrm ! '* Enid. My soul, — oh, father dear. Oh, mother, mother dear! Avoiding there the thrust Of death, Geraint did slip. And Ues there in the dust ! 36 ENID Oh, I must go to him ! [She runs down the stair, distracted. As she reaches the lower wall a wilder outcry is heard from the tourney-field, and Enid falls swooning to the ground] Countess [stooping to her] . Nay, nay, — my babe, my dear, That noise you shall not hear: Listen to me : 1 take thy pretty head Upon my knee ! Thy knight, — he is not dead. But shall return to thee Bringing the hawk ! Ynwl. Lord, woman ; how you talk : If our good knight be slain. Better that she Be dead there, at thy knee, Never to rise again. Countess. No, Ynwl: climb the stair. And see if it be true. Oh, if Earl Dwrm hath won. Then we had needs be gone From forth this fatal town. Ynwl [fro7n the stair] . Then came a joyous cry: Asif they left the field! ENID 37 [SJtouts, huzzas, cries, as of a throng drawing near the walls] Countess. Sure, then, a sound of many feet Came from the street ? Wake, child, — awake, For thy poor mother's sake, Lest the Black Earl should come, And speak for thee the doom That falls once and for all. As only death can fall ! Enid. I thought I saw a stream O'erflow the tourney-field. But half was red as blood And half was black as ink, And there, — what do you think ? There rose, from out the flood, A knight's encrimson'd hand, And then — I tried to throw My blue band, helping him. . . . [She feels for her girdle] Ah now, ah heav'n, I know. Countess. Child, child, what do you know? [By this, the noise of the crowd is heard clamorous at the gates below] Ynwl [looking down]. What of the tourney, men? 38 ENID The crowd replies from below with the SONG OF THE HAWK The Hawk, the silver bird, The Hawk is king ! ^ King of the sword: He cannot crow, or clap his wing, Poor silver thing. But he hath gotten a new lord, — Lord of the Hawk, Geraint is come. So sing him home : And bring him home ! Ynwl. What means it, men ? We heard Geraint went down. Men. Nay, nay, — Earl Dwrm went down, Geraint is lord of Caerdy' town. [At this the crowd pour in, and fill the battle- ments ; then enter Geraint, attended by the Herald with the Hawk on the cross-tree] Geraint [taking the hawk, and kneeling at Enid's feef]. Lady, this bird is thine : The creature cannot say What I would tell this day, Who am his knight and thine. For thy band bound me fast When the bright death glanced past : ENID 39 And the Earl's spear did hiss Like water on hot steel : A mightier, hardier foe No knight at joust could know! Now, all he had, — red blood, Great strokes and hardihood And all this sword hath won. Lady, are thine, — the Queen Of the Hawk ; to whom I yield Up Hawk, and sword, and shield. [Gives her the Hawk, and his arms] Men and women sing. The Hawk, the Silver Bird : The Hawk is King, King of the sword ! Now, sing him home, come sing. For he hath got a new-made lord. Lord of the Hawk. Geraint is lord ! Geraint is up, then Dwrm go down, Geraint is lord in field and town. 40 ENID ACT II. Scene I. Room in Geraint's palace overlooking forest-lands and the distant sea of Severn, with a couch under the glazed windows. Enter troop of damosels carrying in flowers from the garden, 1st Damosel. Marigold was a soldier, — Wore yellow for war : But when he was wedded He went fighting no more. [AU sing] Sing Marigold. [They dress the empty hearth with flowers'] 2nd Da^nosel. Tuberose was a lady, Went early to mass. But she hid in the lych-gate To see the knights pass. [All sing] Sing Tuberose, ^rd Damosel. Goldenrod was a lover. Who loved my white hand ; But when I did pluck him I broke his gold band. [All sing] Sing Goldenrod, The Three. Bring flowers for the strewing And herbs without stint, The hay-scented fennel. Thyme, marjoram, mint. ENID 41 1st Damosel. And sage, my sweet sage. Remember sweet sage. — Oh! . . . [Starting hack from the hearth, whence the Dwarf suddenly starts forth'] Dwarf. Thy sweet sage, did you say ? \The damosels retreat, and then cautiously return] 1st Damosel. What d'ye mean coming here, You ape of Earl Dwrm ? Hark, my lady ! she comes. You had best hop away. [Enter Enid] Dwarf. My lady, good day ! . . . I am come here to sue For my lord, the Earl Dwrm. Enid. Good morrow, Sir Small ! What suit do you bring ? Dwarf. Thy lord wars no more; But mine takes the field ; Recovered at last From the wounds that he gat When he rode for the Hawk. He would beg the black horse That thy lord. Sir Geraint, Won from him on that day, Who they say fights no more ! 42 ENID Enid. What is this they do say, That Geraint fights no more ? Dwarf. Tis not I gave the word Or called him Sans-sword ? If he sits there, in thrall To thy beauty, High Dame, Sits and dreams in the hall. While the knights ride to war, What wonder is there ? No wonder at all ! Enid. What ill- word is this ? Oh, monstrous it is To make me knights' Bane. [She rises and goes to the window] Rise, Geraint, again! Take thy sword, called Sans-peur, Light and keen in thy hand. And arise, and to war Go once more ! I thank you. Sir Dwarf. My lord shall give heed To your quest : you may go ! Dwarf. For thy grace, — I bow low: [Aside'\ Now I think my bolt's sped. Let me go ! Enid. Is it true, what he said : My maidens, — come here. ENID 43 Is it true ? For thy lord He is eager, and strong, — Is he not ? Have you heard Of such things as were said Even now, — one such word? 1st Damosel. Not a word, save to say — How thy beauty could keep Even Geraint away From the camp and the field ! Enid. Oh mischief, — I see, — Then my Knight of the world His sword will not wield, — Is no knight, thanks to me ! His blue pennon is furl'd: Wicked girls, do you know What you say ? . . . 2nd Damosel. Dear mistress, but nay ! More honour to thee. If thy lord doth delay, — And thy beauty is more That can hold him in thrall — That is all! . . . Enid. Most mischievous all! . . . Then these flowers are too fond, And my eyes are a lure — I will spoil them with tears. is/ Damosel. Dear Heart : do not weep. Enid. \]will weep : girls, begone 44 ENID To the garden below ! I will follow you soon : — [Exeunt the damosels] I know, — ah, I know: I must find a strange flower, — Some queen with a taint. Some lily whose white Lost its hue in the night, To give to Geraint. Ah, he comes ! I will steal To the garden below: There is sooth in a flower. In its life, and its death : There is sooth in the bud, There is grace in the leaf. I will find some sad bloom. As a sign for my lord, In the garden below, — While their petals exhale He shall hark to my tale ; Sitting here in the seat That he loves, looking forth On the merry green field. [Exif] [Enter Geraint : he goes to the couch, and throws himself down upon it, while the sun streams in upon him] Geraint. What a day for thy grace, Oh, Enid, — sweetheart. ENID 45 Love's harbour is here From the war and the storm : And its lamp is thy face And its Hght is thy form. As the summer steps in At the window, I leave All my warring forever, All my battlefield fever. While I drink a deep peace From the fields and the trees. Enid [in the garden below, singing] SONG OF THE LILY 1. If the lily beguile. Or the rose be too red. Let them turn to the thorn. To the thorn-tree. To the thorn-tree instead ! II. ; '• If thy right eye offend ! Pluck it out for a snare ! Better part of thee cease, And release thee, Than thy peace perish there. Geraint. Something grave in that note, Something new, like the horn, 46 ENID From some camp, heard afar, But who thinks of the sword When the birds of Rhianon Are heard? [Enter Enid carrying a lily] Enid [aside]. The sun on his head Is his helm : on the bold Shoulder-blades, it is red. Like burnished red-gold On grey steel ! Blessed might : Can I bid him away. That is sleep of my night And wake of my day ? Geraint [rising]. Enid! Enid. Geraint! \[He rises, and goes over to her] Geraint. What is this in thy hand, Some white sister, I think, of thyself? Enid. I brought it for thee : Yet look in its heart ! Geraint. I would far rather see Those small elves in thine eyes ! Enid. My great knight ! Geraint. My white flower I Enid and Geraint. All I am turns to you, — Every thought in my heart Every hope I have, too, — ENID 47 As the lily seeks light At the sun- waking hour! When we walked, far apart, And neither yet knew Of this wondrous great thing They call love, ... Nor could tell, I and you, How the good Lord above Had bade the stars sing. . . . Enid. Sing thy strength ! . . . Geraint. Sing thy grace ! And the light of thy face, — Like the lily unwrapt From its sheath ! — Enid. But nay; For there comes a sad hour When the flower may beguile. Geraint. Believe it not, — so. Instead of it, say. Again with thy smile Irradiate as day, — As we said now, ere while. Enid and Geraint. Every hope in my heart. Every thought I have too, All I am turns to you. As the destined white flower Wakes again from the night, 48 ENID As the flower to the Hght You to me ! — I to you. Enid. But this flower, oh Geraint, Look, look in its heart, Lest a change, lest a stain, Tell its heyday is done. Geraint. This white creature, a taint ? By the shine of the sun, It hath so. Enid. Oh, too true, — all too true. It hath so. And I gave it to you, Geraint, for a sign : For they say. They that know, That my love hath a stain. And my fondness a taint, Oh Geraint ! Geraint [still murmuring over the love-song]. Every thought in her heart. Every look in her eyes. Every hope she had too ! [Starting] What waking is here. From our midsummer sleep ? Enid. Oh, they say, my dear lord, I have charmed all thy force To a dream : laid thy sword, Thy helm and thy horse, ENID 49 All asleep at my knee ! tieraint. Who hath said ? By my blood Thou art wrong ! Day and night, Thou art wrong, ... To have let the black brood Hurt my heart, turn my might To a jongleur's light song. Who hath said it, my soul ? Enid. This day came the dwarf Of Earl Dwrm ... Geraint. The demon! . . .'tis he That hath poisoned the flow'r. Now, Enid, I see It is tainted indeed. [He crushes the lily underfoof] Enid [hiding her eyes]. Poor heart : thou art slain ! Geraint. Earl Dwrm, — did you say ? Well I see, well I know, How thy thought, high and low. Has lit on that lord : Did you think, when I lay On the couch, and my sword Asleep with my shield, How much nobler Earl Dwrm, Marching out to the field ? It is well, thou false flower, You did die as you did 50 ENID For an omen to me ! Enid. Geraint ! It is false, thro' and thro' : I have held you my knight, I have loved only you : Very sure, very true ! Earl Dwrm is no more, Than the dust at thy feet. Than the rush on the floor. Geraint. Earl DwTm, and Earl D\vrm, He comes keen on your Hp ! It is time, sword, to speak : And speak in plain steel : Very weU, then, Earl Dwrm, My revenge shall be strange ! [Pacing the floor] I will ride forth once more, In that rusty red suit . That I wore in the field, When I fought for the hawk, I will ride out to war. [Turning and tearing Enid's sleeve] And to break their false teeth In their mouths, I will take Thee, woman, with me ! Oh, but not in this garb Of the lady of light.— Thou shalt ride, all forlorn, ENID 51 A spearcast from me ; In the same sad attire — The gown grey and worn, That were thine on the eve On the eve of St. John. In one hour, — we ride out From the gate, see thou be Forlorn in thy dress As I say, — not a ring. Not a gaud of thy late Loveliness ! And whatever befall. Not a word shalt thou say, Till we meet with Earl Dwrm, And then bid him, all short. To fight with thy lord. To the death ! This shall be my revenge : They shall see if my sword Be asleep! — Now, woman, I go: In an hour, be attired: Thy steed shall await At the gate. [Exit Gerainf] Enid [throwing herself on the couch, sobbing]. Oh, Geraint, Geraint! What wrong have I done 52 ENID Save to love thee too well ? How cruel this sun That so clear on him shone ! Oh, Geraint, thy foot Hath crushed out the flower Of my love ! [She rises] In an hour, did he say ? That runs like an age, Or a moment away : There is much I must do : Despoil me of all He hath doomed; — You, my girdle and gown. You, my sleeves and white shoes; And find the sad weeds Which I wore on the eve Of the hallowed Saint John: [Seating herself on the edge of the couch] I. Must I lay you by, my beautiful white girdle ? Must I lay you by ? You that girdled me, and felt my heart beat fast there. When Geraint came and hand in hand we pass'd there. Must I lay you by ? ENID 53 II. And you, my silven sleeve, whereon his strong hand rested, — Must I lay you by ? And you, my onyx-clasp, and you, my starry hem too. And you, pale pearls on pearls — (they have the moon in them too). Must I lay you by ? III. And you, my plighted ring, with the hawk engraved upon you, Must I lay you by ? And you, my folded kerchief, — with you my secret sleep now. Close, oh very close: and there are tears to keep now, — Now, I lay you by. [Exit] [Enter the Damosels from the garden] 1st Damosel. Where is our lady then ? 2nd Damosel. I heard a sob, I thought. 3r^ Damosel. Here is the flower she brought : It lies crush'd underfoot An evil sign i' faith ! — [Horn sounds below] 1st Damosel. Hark, now the triple horn ! This day changed when Earl Dwrm Sent the dark dwarf this mom. [Horn again] 54 ENID Geraint [below]. Enid! the horses wait. The hour is up ! Enid [re-entering attired in her sad raiment]. My lord, I come. Damosels. Dear lady, what is this ? You cannot ride or fare With your good lord attired, So piteously! Enid. I wear. Dear maidens, all that is Left of my happiness. Geraint [impatiently re-entering] Enid! Enid! . . . Enid. Geraint ! my lord, I come. Sad girls, I go : farewell, Be kind to my poor flowers, Within my garden there. [Exit Enid] Scene II. Chamber at the Grey Earl's old house in Caerdydd (as in Act i). A rude couch or bier stands (I.) beneath the tall window, and on this lies, still as death, the form of Geraint; a wolf -skin hiding all but his head and shoulders. With- out, thro* the window, a wintry street is seen, — snow in twilight. Four armourers, who have just borne in Geraint, stand looking at him, one holding his helm, one his sword, jesse- raunt, etc. ENID 55 ' [Enter Earl Dwrm, attended] Dwrm. Townsmen, — what news is this Of Geraint brought home dead ? He was the sternest knight That ever fought in field : Some nobler room than this Should be his death-chamber. His lady, — where is she ? 1st 'Armourer. They took her, spent and sick, To the convent of St. John, She doth not know her lord. To his last sleep is gone ! Dwrm. Go, bear a message there : Say that Earl Dwrm would be Her friend; — in friendship take The burial of Geraint Upon his hands for her ! [Armourers go, followed by Earl Dwrm's men] Dwrm [stepping over to the bier]. Ay, Geraint, there thou liest, That wert a man of iron ! Would we had met once more, To battle to the death. Thou owest me for that ; But Enid, whom you wed. She — she shall pay thy debt. She lives, — and thou art dead. 56 ENID My star then masters thine : One look now, at thy face, And so farewell, my friend. [A sound of singing is heard without] Here come the holy lights, I ordered for thy bier. Wake then no more, Geraint. [Enter a train of mourning-women, hear- ing tall candles, which they set about the bier] SONG OF THE CANDLES I. Lift, ye candles, hft your light Thro' the dark, this hoHnight. Miserere Domine I II. Now, the gleam that God hath given Shall climb back to Him in Heaven. III. Now, the dead upon the bier. Rides the dread gulf far from here. IV. Lend him, candles, as ye may, Light to light him on his way. ENID 57 V. So his wounded feet shall on To the door of Heav'n at dawn. Miserere Domine ! VI. But for her he left below, — Candles, light her bitter woe. VII. Woe is me, for woman's sake, Tears that fall and hearts that break. Miserere Domine ! [Enter Enid] Enid. Oh, what lights are here ? He is not dead I know : Geraint ! ... he is not dead. 1st Mourner. Poor child : you shall be sure His soul is happier Than ever soul on earth. Enid. Nay, for he could not die Like that, — unreconciled. RecaUing all the love I bore, — and he put by. ist Mourner. I fear thy lord is dead ! His hand is cold : his face Is grey : his heart is lead 58 ENID Within its cordial place. Enid. Oh, if indeed, Geraint, My lord, — my love — is gone. Then go, you mourners, all — Go : leave me here alone. 1st Mourner. Come, damsels, come away If needs we leave her now. Mourners [going]. But for her he leftj^below: Candles, light her bitter woe. Woe is me, and woe is me, Miserere Domine. [Exeunf] Enid [alone]. Oh Geraint! art thou gone? You could not — could not go, Knowing me unforgiven. While we rode, day by day, Beyond the Severn flood, I had from you no smile : Each look a cruel goad. To hurt, and pierce, and pain Until away you rode Into the Pagan throng, To see me not again: And left me to a doom Far worse than any death. Geraint : lift up thy head ! Look, look : I bring thee light ! It is not dark, you see : And I will bring thee drink ENID 59 Shall quite restore thy strength: And I will bring a kiss That would breathe blessed life Into the blindest clay. [Kisses him] Oh, but thy brow is cold: Geraint, Geraint: I fear. My love, it is so cold It cannot kindle now, Not tiU the stone is roll'd From the last grave away. [A Knight's form passes the window ; and then the doors open] [Re-enter Earl Dwrm] Dwrm. Lady, I come in grace And pity to this house. There lies the noblest knight That ever fought in field, Ever bore glaive and shield; And now, thy love must mourn ; That saw him in his might To see that might outworn. But know, you shall not want While I have house or land : I loved you, by this hand Long days — ere Geraint came To try the tournament, And I wiU cherish thee. 6o ENID And never use one word So hard as you have heard Nor treat thee cruelly, As, some tell, Geraint did. And, since the lands he gat From me, return to me. You need not cry thereat. You shall be queen of them. Enid. My lord. You much mistake my tears. I am of them that love Once only, and not again. The wound that my heart bears It shall forever bear. Dwrm. Dear lady, you are faint From watching: cheeks so white Need wine : this chamber too Breathes an unwholesome blight. Come to my house, and be My honour's sad guest there Till this knight's burial. E7iid. My lord : you do me wrong To break my vigil now — I shall not pass this night From my dead lover's side ; So now. Earl Dwrm, farewell ! Dwrm. But, lady, so not I : For your own sake, let be ENID 6i Thy vigil : come with me : Safe there thy knight doth lie. To sleep eternally ! . . . You gave him of your grace, Hearts' joy, great joyousness. But know that, years before, Earl Dwrm did stoop to you With passionate courtesy : Won by your loveUness, That wins upon me still. Like the sweet harp's return. It bids me stay— not go ! Nor leave thee, pale, in tears. Weeping for him who hurt Thee, Enid, to the heart, — While every beat of it Is a harp's-cry to me. Geraint did make thee ride Thro' desert and the wild. Facing the hail and rain. Fearing the pitiless wind. Clad in no noble robe. And not a damsel there To bind thy fluttered hair : And not a word of grace To comfort thee a space : That was no knightly deed : And none that I would dare ! 62 ENID Know, did you ride with me, — The coursers, far and near, Should gleam, to bring thee on. As winds the ship bring on. Upon the Severn sea. [He kneels to her] My star has long been dark. Darker than death would be, Because my love for you, Enid, that should have led Me in the starry way. Repelled, did pull me down Into the triple pit ! Oh, Enid, I do love Each fold of thy sad dress. Each look of thy sad eyes, Each footstep of thy feet. Each place wheie they did pass. Now, bid me rise, and be, Thy knight, thy sleepless slave, The dust upon thy hem. The shade behind thy light. Ay, — and the sword of swords To strike for thy dear sake. Oh then, — a kinder glance, I thought, crept from your eyes. One kiss, upon those Hps, That are my gate of heav'n ! ENID 63 Enid [struggling]. Lord Dwrm, — you do me wrong, You do me bitter wrong ! For know, my heart lies there, With Geraint, on his bier! Sadder than he, more cold: Now go, and leave me, Lord, Or I will wake the house ! Dwrm. I will not, — on my soul ! I cannot, — for the fire Once lit, cannot be quench'd. My men wait there within. Come with me, now, my bird, In peace and courtesy. My fluttering troubled bird, Or I will bid them in. To bear thee safe away. Enid [struggling]. Geraint, oh save me now. Save, save me ! oh, Geraint, Help, help me now ! Dwrm. Enid, he cannot hear: Come with me : I will keep Thee very safe, sweetheart ! I would not hurt one hair Of thy poor frightened head ! Enid [struggling] . Geraint ! — Geraint ! If thou art dead, awake ! 64 ENID [As she cries out in her terror, Geraint moves on his bier ; then starts up, seizing Sans- peur] Geraint. What man is this ? my soul, Earl Dwrm! . . . [Dwrm draws his sword to save himself, — there is a brief struggle and then with one blow Sir Geraint strikes him down] Enid. Geraint! My love, I thought thee dead. Geraint. I was like one that lay Beneath the dreadful earth : But down there came a cry. That called me back to thee ! I woke, I struck, — but I — What are these candles here As for some burial bier? Enid. I knew you would not die Without a word to me ! My heart, my love, my lord : You went, how far from me; And you are truly come To your poor love again. Geraint. Enid, what days of gloom That dread man brought on me ! I feared that in your heart ENID 65 You bore some love for him : And that thought was a wound That ached, and never ceased. Oh now, I know how fierce, How wrong my folly was ! And there, the witness lies. Slain in his instancy And passion. Oh my heart, No wonder he did love Thee without reck or stint : Thou art so beautiful. And if I did thee wrong. In his fear, let him, dead. Be witness, as I kneel Most gentle, at thy feet. To ask thy pardon now. [Rising, and leading her to the window] See, the red dawn breaks in. To herald the new day That dawns for thee and me ! Enid. Geraint, I love thee so. Be kind to us. New Day, That dawns for him and me ! But hark ! the men do come ! [Enter Townsmen, Women, Pages, the Grey Earl and Countess] Earl Ynwl. Good sirs ! — what life-in-death Is this — what hurt man here ? 66 ENID What dead risen from the bier? Geraint. I had a woful thought, — I thought I lay long dead : The clay was on my face, The bands did bind my feet When came, from far away, Out of the windy night, — A cry, a bitter cry, I knew that cr5dng voice. And knew, alas, that I Had hurt her cruelly: I sprang up, — breaking bands. Snatched up, with fiercest hands. My sword : and saw this knight. Earl Dwrm, that dragg'd away My new-found light from me : I struck; — and there he lies: To speak no more till doom. Gyey Earl. Bear to his house the form Of him, that was Earl Dwrm ! And take these lights away ! No need of candle-light When the good day is come ! [A hubbub is heard at the doors, the throng parts, and then enter Dwarf, hurriedly] Dwarf. I see a dead man stand : I see a live man down : What witchery is here ? ENID 67 Ynwl. My lord, Earl Dwrm, is dead ! Dwarf. Oh master, my dear lord, Speak, — say, lift up thy head : For I, thy dog and dwarf. Kneel couchant at thy side. Master, — dear master, rise ! He cannot raise his head The sword hath cut it thro', He that did hold the sun To be his lamp and torch. When I did go and come Upon my road, — He sinks deep into gloom. Oh, Annwn, by thy side. Is more than heaven to me : [Rising and turning on the throng] Think not, such masters die. We fare on, he and I, To revel in the deep Dark underworld, till time Again shall set us free. When you do hear the wind Go raving round the wall, — When you do see the shade. First, of the dark hour fall : When you do hear the pack Of Annwm whip the air, — Bark on the lost soul's track: 68 ENID I shall be riding there, At my stern master's back. Come, Night ! Come, Malen Ddu, My master calls to me We hasten — I and he ! [Stabs himself] Geraint. Nay stay — thou imp of time, — Too late ! — the steel was sure ! Enid. Piteous, oh piteous, see The dwarf lie with his lord. Ynwl. Why should the dog stay on When the stern huntsman's gone ? Sound now a solemn march. And these, the dead, bear out By the small postern gate. [The candle-hearers re-enter, followed by four armourers who take out the dead in silence. As they go, the scene is left for a moment in darkness. Then a clamour is heard from the town without] Ynwl. What is that noise without ?j Armourer [entering]. A great throng in the street Do cry to see Earl Dwrm. Voices. Earl Dwrm ! Geraint ! Ynwl. Throw the oak shutters wide ! Stand forth, Geraint ! . . . Townsmen, here stands Geraint. Voices [in the street] . Earl Dwrm. where is Earl Dwrm? ENID: :;• '. >•/;''.• 69 Ynwl. Hard master, — he is gone, And his dark dwarf with him, Where they cannot return; And Geraint is our lord. Our lord and castellan, — Town, lordship, castelry! Armourers [within]. Geraint, Geraint! Voices [in the street]. Dwrm! Geraint! Geraint ! Hail, Lord Geraint ! Geraint. Men, by this sword of mine. And by this new-come day. That so doth fire and shine I am glad to live, and lead. If need be, in your wars; And glad to bring you in my hand Enid, the day-star of your land. Enid. See the sun grows more bright : Enough of war and death and night ! Let us sing morning-songs ! MORNING SONG Men and women sing. That knight who in the fosse of death Lay deep, doth live to lead us now; And take a faster, greater breath, Our Master of the Morning-Brow. 70 ENID Women sing. Geraint and Enid, hand in hand, Shall lead us in the morning land. Men sing. Our hawk shall join the eagles now. That fly to face the morning sun, From whom those streams of splendour flew That drown the dark, when night is done ! All sing. Enid and Geraint, hand in hand. Shall light us, in our Cymric land; And he shall lead in Arthur's wars : And she shall bind his morning stars. [Curtain] THE END THE TEMPLE PRESS, PRINTERS, LETCHWORTH RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT TO— ^ 202 M ain Librc| v^ 1^ |^ r^ LOAN PERIOD HOME USE ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS Renewals and Recharges may be made 4 days prior to the due date. Books may be Renewed by calling 642-3405. DUE AS STAMPED BELOW SENT ON ILL SemrONILL NOV 1 vm OCT 1 7 2002 u. s ^ U. C. BERKELEY AUG ZO 1998 U.C. BERKELEY SEr^ONILL ■lUN 6 2002 U. C. BERKELEY =ORM NO. DD6 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY BERKELEY, CA 94720 38 t 801 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY FIRST PRODUCED AT TI COURT THEATRE NOVEMBER 24TH, 1908