“Because he to whom it belongs has never suffered another to sit in it.”
“I care not,” answered Geraint, “though it displease him that I sit in the chair.”
Thereupon there arose a mighty tumult about the pavilion; and Geraint looked to see what was the cause of it, and he saw a great knight, fully armed, mounted on a mettlesome war-horse.
“Tell me, knight,” said he, “who was it bade thee sit on that chair?”
“Myself,” quoth Geraint.
“It was wrong of thee,” said the other, “to do me this shame and insolence. Arise now, and give me satisfaction.”
Then Geraint went forth, mounted his horse, and encountered him. Again and again they rushed at each other and broke spears; but at last Geraint cast him on the ground, a whole spear’s length beyond his horse’s crupper. Thereupon he sued for mercy, and promised to grant all that Geraint asked.
“I only desire,” he answered, “that this enchantment shall cease.”
“Sound yonder horn,” said the knight, “and the hedge of mist will immediately disappear; but it will not go hence unless the horn be sounded by the knight by whom I have been vanquished.”
Then Geraint went and sounded the horn, and at the first blast the hedge of mist vanished; and there Geraint was visible to Enid, who had been sorrowful with anxiety concerning him, and to all the others. So on the morrow Geraint returned with his wife to his own dominions. All the distrust and grief between them had gone like the hedge of mist, because he had proved her to be faithful and loving to him beyond all women. Thenceforth he reigned prosperously, and his warlike fame and splendour lasted thereafter as long as he lived.