hey
stretched the body out full length, with his lance and shield alongside.
The hall is full, the crowd is dense. Each one is anxious to inquire
what is this trouble, what marvel here. Meanwhile the Count takes
counsel with his barons privily. "My lords," he says, "upon the spot I
wish to espouse this lady here. We can plainly judge by her beauty
and prudent mien that she is of very gentle rank. Her beauty and noble
bearing show that the honour of a kingdom or empire might well be
bestowed upon her. I shall never suffer disgrace through her; rather I
think to win more honour. Have my chaplain summoned now, and do you go
and fetch the lady. The half of all my land I will give her as her dower
if she will comply with my desire." Then they bade the chaplain come,
in accordance with the Count's command, and the dame they brought there,
too, and made her marry him perforce; for she flatly refused to give
consent. But in spite of all, the Count married her in accordance with
his wish. And when he had married her, the constable at once had the
tables set in the palace, and had the food prepared; for already it was
time for the evening meal.

(Vv. 4779-4852.) After vespers, that day in May, Enide was in sore
distress, nor did her grief cease to trouble her. And the Count urged
her mildly by prayer and threat to make her peace and be consoled, and
he made her sit down upon a chair, though it was against her will. In
spite of her, they made her take a seat and placed the table in front of
her. The Count takes his place on the other side, almost beside himself
with rage to find that he cannot comfort her. "Lady," he says, "you must
now leave off this grief and banish it. You can have full trust in
me, that honour and riches will be yours. You must surely realise that
mourning will not revive the dead; for no one ever saw such a thing come
about. Remember now, though poor you were, that great riches are within
your reach. Once you were poor; rich now you will be. Fortune has
not been stingy toward you, in bestowing upon you the honour of being
henceforth hailed as Countess. It is true that your lord is dead. If
you grieve and lament because of this, do you think that I am surprised?
Nay. But I am giving you the best advice I know how to give. In that I
have married you, you ought to be content. Take care you do not anger
me! Eat now, as I bid you do." And she replies: "Not I, my lord. In
faith, as long as I live I will neither eat