You mar a comely face with idiot tears.

Yet, since the face is comely-some of you,
Here, take him up, and bear him to our hall:
An if he live, we will have him of our band;
And if he die, why earth has earth enough
To hide him. See ye take the charger too,
A noble one.'

He spake, and past away,

But left two brawny spearmen, who advanced,
Each growling like a dog, when his good bone
Seems to be pluck'd at by the village boys
Who love to vex him eating, and he fears
To lose his bone, and lays his foot upon it,
Gnawing and growling: so the ruffians growl'd,
Fearing to lose, and all for a dead man,

Their chance of booty from the morning's raid;

Yet raised and laid him on a litter-bier,

Such as they brought upon their forays out

For those that might be wounded; laid him on it

All in the hollow of his shield, and took

And bore him to the naked hall of Doorm,

(His gentle charger following him unled)

And cast him and the bier in which he lay
Down on an oaken settle in the hall,

And then departed, hot in haste to join
Their luckier mates, but growling as before,

And cursing their lost time, and the dead man,
And their own Earl, and their own souls, and her.
They might as well have blest her: she was deaf
To blessing or to cursing save from one.

So for long hours sat Enid by her lord, There in the naked hall, propping his head, And chafing his pale hands, and calling to him. And at the last he waken'd from his swoon, And found his own dear bride propping his head, And chafing his faint hands, and calling to him; And felt the warm tears falling on his face; And said to his own heart, she weeps for me: And yet lay still, and feign'd himself as dead,

That he might prove her to the uttermost,

And say to his own heart she weeps for me.'

But in the falling afternoon return'd

The huge Earl Doorm with plunder to the hall.
His lusty spearmen follow'd him with noise :
Each hurling down a heap of things that rang
Against the pavement, cast his lance aside,

And doff'd his helm and then there flutter'd in,
Half-bold, half-frighted, with dilated eyes,

A tribe of women, dress'd in many hues,

And mingled with the spearmen and Earl Doorm
Struck with a knife's haft hard against the board,
And call'd for flesh and wine to feed his spears.
And men brought in whole hogs and quarter beeves,
And all the hall was dim with steam of flesh :

And none spake word, but all sat down at once,

And ate with tumult in the naked hall,

Feeding like horses when you hear them feed;

Till Enid shrank far back into herself,

To shun the wild ways of the lawless tribe.

But when Earl Doorm had eaten all he would,

He roll'd his eyes about the hall, and found
A damsel drooping in a corner of it.

Then he remember'd her, and how she wept ;

And out of her there came a power upon him;
And rising on the sudden he said, 'Eat!

I never yet beheld a thing so pale.

God's curse, it makes me mad to see you weep.

"

Eat! Look yourself. Good luck had your good man,

For were I dead who is it would weep for me?

Sweet lady, never since I first drew breath,

Have I beheld a lily like yourself.

And so there lived some colour in your cheek,

There is not one among my gentlewomen

Were fit to wear your slipper for a glove.

But listen to me, and by me be ruled,

And I will do the thing I have not done,

For you shall share my

earldom with me, girl,

And we will live like two birds in one nest,

And I will fetch you forage from all fields,
For I compel all creatures to my will.'

He spoke the brawny spearman let his cheek Bulge with the unswallow'd piece, and turning stared; While some, whose souls the old serpent long had drawn Down, as the worm draws in the wither'd leaf

And makes it earth, hiss'd each at other's ear
What shall not be recorded-women they,

Women, or what had been those gracious things,
But now desired the humbling of their best,
Yea, would have helped him to it: and all at once
They hated her, who took no thought of them,
But answer'd in low voice, her meek head yet
Drooping, 'I pray you of your courtesy,

He being as he is, to let me be.'

She spake so low he hardly heard her speak,

But like a mighty patron, satisfied

With what himself had done so graciously,