ain, "but enter by the way that thou wilt, and that seemeth
easiest to thee."

Then fearlessly and unhesitatingly Geraint dashed forward into the mist.
And on leaving the mist he came to a large orchard, and in the orchard he
saw an open space, wherein was a tent of red satin, and the door of the
tent was open, and an apple-tree stood in front of the door of the tent,
and on a branch of the apple-tree hung a huge hunting horn. Then he
dismounted, and went into the tent, and there was no one in the tent save
one maiden sitting in a golden chair, and another chair was opposite to
her, empty. And Geraint went to the empty chair, and sat down therein.
"Ah! chieftain," said the maiden, "I would not counsel thee to sit in
that chair." "Wherefore?" said Geraint. "The man to whom that chair
belongs has never suffered another to sit in it." "I care not," said
Geraint, "though it displease him that I sit in the chair." And
thereupon they heard a mighty tumult around the tent. And Geraint looked
to see what was the cause of the tumult. And he beheld without a knight
mounted upon a war-horse, proudly-snorting, high-mettled, and large of
bone, and a robe of honour in two parts was upon him and upon his horse,
and beneath it was plenty of armour. "Tell me, chieftain," said he to
Geraint, "who it was that bade thee sit there?" "Myself," answered he.
"It was wrong of thee to do me this shame and disgrace. Arise, and do me
satisfaction for thine insolence." Then Geraint arose, and they
encountered immediately, and they broke a set of lances; and a second
set; and a third; and they gave each other fierce and frequent strokes;
and at last Geraint became enraged, and he urged on his horse, and rushed
upon him, and gave him a thrust on the centre of his shield, so that it
was split, and so that the head of his lance went through his armour, and
his girths were broken, and he himself was borne headlong to the ground
the length of Geraint's lance and arm, over his horse's crupper. "Oh, my
Lord!" said he, "thy mercy, and thou shalt have what thou wilt." "I only
desire," said Geraint, "that this game shall no longer exist here, nor
the hedge of mist, nor magic, nor enchantment." "Thou shalt have this
gladly, Lord," he replied. "Cause then the mist to disappear from this
place," said Geraint. "Sound yonder horn," said he, "and when thou
soundest it, the mist will vanish; but it will not go hence unless the
horn be blown by the kn