gazed steadfastly upon him for a long time. Then the hoary-headed
man spoke to him. "Young man," he said, "wherefore art thou
thoughtful?" "I am thoughtful," said he, "because I know not where
to go to-night." "Wilt thou come forward this way, chieftain?" said
he, "and thou shalt have of the best that can be procured for thee."
So Geraint went forward. And the hoary-headed man preceded him into
the hall. And in the hall he dismounted, and he left there his
horse. Then he went on to the upper chamber with the hoary-headed
man. And in the chamber he beheld an old decrepit woman, sitting on
a cushion, with old, tattered garments of satin upon her; and it
seemed to him that he had never seen a woman fairer than she must
have been, when in the fulness of youth. And beside her was a
maiden, upon whom were a vest and a veil, that were old, and
beginning to be worn out. And truly, he never saw a maiden more full
of comeliness, and grace, and beauty than she. And the hoary-headed
man said to the maiden, "There is no attendant for the horse of this
youth but thyself." "I will render the best service I am able," said
she, "both to him and to his horse." And the maiden disarrayed the
youth, and then she furnished his horse with straw and with corn.
And she went to the hall as before, and then she returned to the
chamber. And the hoary-headed man said to the maiden, "Go to the
town," said he, "and bring hither the best that thou canst find both
of food and of liquor." "I will, gladly, Lord," said she. And to
the town went the maiden. And they conversed together while the
maiden was at the town. And, behold! the maiden came back, and a
youth with her, bearing on his back a costrel full of good purchased
mead, and a quarter of a young bullock. And in the hands of the
maiden was a quantity of white bread, and she had some manchet bread
in her veil, and she came into the chamber. "I could not obtain
better than this," said she, "nor with better should I have been