{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_19973/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_19973","id":"gutenberg_19973","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19973","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fantasy","Mythology, Celtic -- Wales","Tales -- Wales","Welsh literature -- 1100-1400 -- Translations into English"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1902 Fisher Unwin edition by David Price, email\nccx074@pglaf.org\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MABINOGION\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE RED BOOK OF HERGEST BY LADY CHARLOTTE GUEST\nVOL. II.  LONDON\nT. FISHER UNWIN\n11 PATERNOSTER\nBUILDINGS.  MXCII\n\n{The salmon of Llyn Llyw.  \"And they heard a great wailing and lamenting\nfrom the dungeon.\": p0.jpg}\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIn this second volume, as in the first, I have given Lady Charlotte\nGuest's translation exactly as she wrote it.  It would have been easy to\nmake it a more faithful reproduction of the Welsh by occasionally\nchanging a word, or by making a phrase more simple in diction.  But the\nreader would not have forgiven me for placing before him a translation\nthat was not Lady Charlotte Guest's.  I have again ventured, however,\nafter a careful comparison of the translation with the original, to put\nin the form of footnotes a more accurate or more literal rendering of\npassages which Lady Charlotte Guest did not read aright, passages which\nshe has omitted, and passages the real meaning of which she seems to me\nto have failed to grasp.\n\nThe first two tales in this volume make up, with \"The Dream of Rhonabwy,\"\nthe second volume of the original edition.  \"The Dream of Rhonabwy\" was\nplaced in my first volume, with \"The Lady of the Fountain\" and\n\"Peredur\"--the two tales that form the first volume of the original\nedition.  The oldest of the tales--the Mabinogion proper--will all be\nincluded in the third volume.\n\nOWEN EDWARDS.\n\nLLANUWCHLLYN,\n_June_ 1902.\n\n\n\n\nGERAINT THE SON OF ERBIN.\n\n\n{Picture: p7.jpg}\n\nArthur was accustomed to hold his Court at Caerlleon upon Usk.  And there\nhe held it seven Easters, {7a} and five Christmases.  And once upon a\ntime he held his Court there at Whitsuntide.  For Caerlleon was the place\nmost easy of access in his dominions, both by sea and by land.  And there\nwere assembled {7b} nine crowned kings, who were his tributaries, and\nlikewise earls and barons.  For they were his invited guests at all the\nhigh festivals, unless they were prevented by any great hindrance.  And\nwhen he was at Caerlleon, holding his Court, thirteen churches were set\napart for mass.  And thus were they appointed: one church for Arthur, and\nhis kings, and his guests; and the second for Gwenhwyvar and her ladies;\nand the third for the Steward of the Household and the Suitors; and the\nfourth for the Franks, and the other officers; and the other nine\nchurches were for the nine Masters of the Household, and chiefly for\nGwalchmai; for he, from the eminence of his warlike fame, and from the\nnobleness of his birth, was the most exalted of the nine.  And there was\nno other arrangement respecting the churches than that which we have\nmentioned above.\n\nGlewlwyd Gavaelvawr was the chief porter; but he did not himself perform\nthe office, except at one of the three high festivals, for he had seven\nmen to serve him; and they divided the year amongst them.  They were\nGrynn, and Pen Pighon, and Llaes Cymyn, and Gogyfwlch, and Gwrdnei with\nCat's eyes, who could see as well by night as by day, and Drem the son of\nDremhitid, and Clust the son of Clustveinyd; and these were Arthur's\nguards.  And on Whit Tuesday, as the King sat at the banquet, lo! there\nentered a tall, fair-headed youth, clad in a coat and a surcoat of\ndiapred satin, and a golden-hilted sword about his neck, and low shoes of\nleather upon his feet.  And he came, and stood before Arthur.  \"Hail to\nthee, Lord!\" said he.  \"Heaven prosper thee,\" he answered, \"and be thou\nwelcome.  Dost thou bring any new tidings?\"  \"I do, Lord,\" he said.  \"I\nknow thee not,\" said Arthur.  \"It is a marvel to me that thou dost not\nknow me.  I am one of thy foresters, Lord, in the Forest of Dean, and my\nname is Madawc, the son of Twrgadarn.\"  \"Tell me thine errand,\" said\nArthur.  \"I will do so, Lord,\" said he.  \"In the Forest I saw a stag, the\nlike of which beheld I never yet.\"  \"What is there about him,\" asked\nArthur, \"that thou never yet didst see his like?\"  \"He is of pure white,\nLord, and he does not herd with any other animal through stateliness and\npride, so royal is his bearing.  And I come to seek thy counsel, Lord,\nand to know thy will concerning him.\"  \"It seems best to me,\" said\nArthur, \"to go and hunt him to-morrow at break of day; and to cause\ngeneral notice thereof to be given to-night in all quarters of the\nCourt.\"  And Arryfuerys was Arthur's chief huntsman, and Arelivri was his\nchief page.  And all received notice; and thus it was arranged.  And they\nsent the youth before them.  Then Gwenhwyvar said to Arthur, \"Wilt thou\npermit me, Lord,\" said she, \"to go to-morrow to see and hear the hunt of\nthe stag of which the young man spoke?\"  \"I will, gladly,\" said Arthur.\n\"Then will I go,\" said she.  And Gwalchmai said to Arthur, \"Lord, if it\nseem well to thee, permit that into whose hunt soever the stag shall\ncome, that one, be he a knight or one on foot, may cut off his head, and\ngive it to whom he pleases, whether to his own ladylove, or to the lady\nof his friend.\"  \"I grant it gladly,\" said Arthur, \"and let the Steward\nof the Household be chastised if all are not ready to-morrow for the\nchase.\"\n\nAnd they passed the night with songs, and diversions, and discourse, and\nample entertainment.  And when it was time for them all to go to sleep,\nthey went.  And when the next day came, they arose; and Arthur called the\nattendants, who guarded his couch.  And these were four pages, whose\nnames were Cadyrnerth the son of Porthawr Gandwy, and Ambreu the son of\nBedwor, and Amhar, the son of Arthur, and Goreu the son of Custennin.  And\nthese men came to Arthur, and saluted him, and arrayed him in his\ngarments.  And Arthur wondered that Gwenhwyvar did not awake, and did not\nmove in her bed: and the attendants wished to awaken her.  \"Disturb her\nnot,\" said Arthur, \"for she had rather sleep than go to see the hunting.\"\n\nThen Arthur went forth, and he heard two horns sounding, one from near\nthe lodging of the chief huntsman, and the other from near that of the\nchief page.  And the whole assembly of the multitudes came to Arthur, and\nthey took the road to the Forest.\n\nAnd after Arthur had gone forth from the palace, Gwenhwyvar awoke, and\ncalled to her maidens, and apparelled herself.  \"Maidens,\" said she, \"I\nhad leave last night to go and see the hunt.  Go one of you to the\nstable, and order hither a horse such as a woman may ride.\"  And one of\nthem went, and she found but two horses in the stable, and Gwenhwyvar and\none of her maidens mounted them, and went through the Usk, and followed\nthe track of the men and the horses.  And as they rode thus, they heard a\nloud and rushing sound; and they looked behind them, and beheld a knight\nupon a {10} hunter foal of mighty size; and the rider was a fair haired\nyouth, bare-legged, and of princely mien, and a golden-hilted sword was\nat his side, and a robe and a surcoat of satin were upon him, and two low\nshoes of leather upon his feet; and around him was a scarf of blue\npurple, at each corner of which was a golden apple.  And his horse\nstepped stately, and swift, and proud; and he overtook Gwenhwyvar, and\nsaluted her.  \"Heaven prosper thee, Geraint,\" said she, \"I knew thee when\nfirst I saw thee just now.  And the welcome of heaven be unto thee.  And\nwhy didst thou not go with thy Lord to hunt?\"  \"Because I knew not when\nhe went,\" said he.  \"I marvel too,\" said she, \"how he could go unknown to\nme.\"  \"Indeed, lady,\" said he.  \"I was fast asleep, and knew not when he\nwent; but thou, O young man, art the most agreeable companion I could\nhave in the whole kingdom; and it may be that I shall be more amused with\nthe hunting than they; {11} for we shall hear the horns when they sound,\nand we shall hear the dogs when they are let loose, and begin to cry.\"  So\nthey went to the edge of the Forest, and there they stood.  \"From this\nplace,\" said she, \"we shall hear when the dogs are let loose.\"  And\nthereupon they heard a loud noise, and they looked towards the spot\nwhence it came, and they beheld a dwarf riding upon a horse, stately, and\nfoaming, and prancing, and strong, and spirited.  And in the hand of the\ndwarf was a whip.  And near the dwarf they saw a lady upon a beautiful\nwhite horse, of steady and stately pace; and she was clothed in a garment\nof gold brocade.  And near her was a knight upon a war-horse of large\nsize, with heavy and bright armour both upon himself and upon his horse.\nAnd truly they never before saw a knight, or a horse, or armour, of such\nremarkable size.  And they were all near to each other.\n\n\"Geraint,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"knowest thou the name of that tall knight\nyonder?\"  \"I know him not,\" said he, \"and the strange armour that he\nwears prevents my either seeing his face or his features.\"  \"Go, maiden,\"\nsaid Gwenhwyvar, \"and ask the dwarf who that knight is.\"  Then the maiden\nwent up to the dwarf; and the dwarf waited for the maiden, when he saw\nher coming towards him.  And the maiden enquired of the dwarf who the\nknight was.  \"I will not tell thee,\" he answered.  \"Since thou art so\nchurlish as not to tell me,\" said she, \"I will ask him himself.\"  \"Thou\nshall not ask him, by my faith,\" said he.  \"Wherefore?\" said she.\n\"Because thou art not of honour sufficient to befit thee to speak to my\nLord.\"  Then the maiden turned her horse's head towards the knight, upon\nwhich the dwarf struck her with the whip that was in his hand across the\nface and the eyes, until the blood flowed forth.  And the maiden, through\nthe hurt she received from the blow, returned to Gwenhwyvar, complaining\nof the pain.  \"Very rudely has the dwarf treated thee,\" said Geraint.  \"I\nwill go myself to know who the knight is.\"  \"Go,\" said Gwenhwyvar.  And\nGeraint went up to the dwarf.  \"Who is yonder knight?\" said Geraint.  \"I\nwill not tell thee,\" said the dwarf.  \"Then will I ask him himself,\" said\nhe.  \"That wilt thou not, by my faith,\" said the dwarf; \"thou art not\nhonourable enough to speak with my Lord.\"  Said Geraint, \"I have spoken\nwith men of equal rank with him.\"  And he turned his horse's head towards\nthe knight, but the dwarf overtook him and struck him as he had done the\nmaiden, so that the blood coloured the scarf that Geraint wore.  Then\nGeraint put his hand upon the hilt of his sword, but he took counsel with\nhimself, and considered that it would be no vengeance for him to slay the\ndwarf, and to be attacked unarmed by the armed knight, so he returned to\nwhere Gwenhwyvar was.\n\n\"Thou hast acted wisely and discreetly,\" said she.  \"Lady,\" said he, \"I\nwill follow him yet, with thy permission; and at last he will come to\nsome inhabited place, where I may have arms either as a loan or for a\npledge, so that I may encounter the knight.\"  \"Go,\" said she, \"and do not\nattack him until thou hast good arms, and I shall be very anxious\nconcerning thee, until I hear tidings of thee.\"  \"If I am alive,\" said\nhe, \"thou shall hear tidings of me by to-morrow afternoon;\" and with that\nhe departed.\n\nAnd the road they took was below the palace of Caerlleon, and across the\nford of the Usk; and they went along a fair, and even, and lofty ridge of\nground, until they came to a town, and at the extremity of the town they\nsaw a Fortress and a Castle.  And they came to the extremity of the town.\nAnd as the knight passed through it, all the people arose, and saluted\nhim, and bade him welcome.  And when Geraint came into the town, he\nlooked at every house, to see if he knew any of those whom he saw.  But\nhe knew none, and none knew him to do him the kindness to let him have\narms either as a loan or for a pledge.  And every house he saw was full\nof men, and arms, and horses.  And they were polishing shields, and\nburnishing swords, and washing armour, and shoeing horses.  And the\nknight, and the lady, and the dwarf, rode up to the Castle that was in\nthe town, and every one was glad in the Castle.  And from the battlements\nand the gates they risked their necks, through their eagerness to greet\nthem, and to show their joy.\n\nGeraint stood there to see whether the knight would remain in the Castle;\nand when he was certain that he would do so, he looked around him; and at\na little distance from the town he saw an old palace in ruins, wherein\nwas a hall that was falling to decay.  And as he knew not any one in the\ntown, he went towards the old palace; and when he came near to the\npalace, he saw but one chamber, and a bridge of marble-stone leading to\nit.  And upon the bridge he saw sitting a hoary-headed man, upon whom\nwere tattered garments.  And Geraint gazed steadfastly upon him for a\nlong time.  Then the hoary-headed man spoke to him.  \"Young man,\" he\nsaid, \"wherefore art thou thoughtful?\"  \"I am thoughtful,\" said he,\n\"because I know not where to go to-night.\"  \"Wilt thou come forward this\nway, chieftain?\" said he, \"and thou shalt have of the best that can be\nprocured for thee.\"  So Geraint went forward.  And the hoary-headed man\npreceded him into the hall.  And in the hall he dismounted, and he left\nthere his horse.  Then he went on to the upper chamber with the hoary-\nheaded man.  And in the chamber he beheld an old decrepit woman, sitting\non a cushion, with old tattered garments of satin upon her; and it seemed\nto him that he had never seen a woman fairer than she must have been when\nin the fulness of youth.  And beside her was a maiden, upon whom were a\nvest and a veil, that were old, and beginning to be worn out.  And truly\nhe never saw a maiden more full of comeliness, and grace, and beauty,\nthan she.  And the hoary-headed man said to the maiden, \"There is no\nattendant for the horse of this youth but thyself.\"  \"I will render the\nbest service I am able,\" said she, \"both to him and to his horse.\"  And\nthe maiden disarrayed the youth, and then she furnished his horse with\nstraw and with corn.  And she went to the hall as before, and then she\nreturned to the chamber.  And the hoary-headed man said to the maiden,\n\"Go to the town,\" said he, \"and bring hither the best that thou canst\nfind both of food and of liquor.\"  \"I will, gladly, Lord,\" said she.  And\nto the town went the maiden.  And they conversed together, while the\nmaiden was at the town.  And, behold! the maiden came back, and a youth\nwith her, bearing on his back a costrel full of good purchased mead and a\nquarter of a young bullock.  And in the hands of the maiden was a\nquantity of white bread, and she had some manchet bread in her veil, and\nshe came into the chamber.  \"I could not obtain better than this,\" said\nshe, \"nor with better should I have been trusted.\"  \"It is good enough,\"\nsaid Geraint.  And they caused the meat to be boiled; and when their food\nwas ready, they sat down.  And it was in this wise; Geraint sat between\nthe hoary-headed man and his wife, and the maiden served them.  And they\nate and drank.\n\nAnd when they had finished eating, Geraint talked with the hoary-headed\nman, and he asked him in the first place, to whom belonged the Palace\nthat he was in.  \"Truly,\" said he, \"it was I that built it, and to me\nalso belonged the city and the castle which thou sawest.\"  \"Alas!\" said\nGeraint, \"how is it that thou hast lost them now?\"  \"I lost a great\nEarldom as well as these,\" said he, \"and this is how I lost them.  I had\na nephew, the son of my brother, and I took his possessions to myself;\nand when he came to his strength, he demanded of me his property, but I\nwithheld it from him.  So he made war upon me, and wrested from me all\nthat I possessed.\"  \"Good, Sir,\" {15} said Geraint, \"wilt thou tell me\nwherefore came the knight, and the lady, and the dwarf, just now into the\ntown, and what is the preparation which I saw, and the putting of arms in\norder.\"  \"I will do so,\" said he.  \"The preparations are for the game\nthat is to be held to-morrow by the young Earl, which will be on this\nwise.  In the midst of a meadow which is here, two forks will be set up,\nand upon the two forks a silver rod, and upon the silver rod a Sparrow-\nHawk, and for the Sparrow-Hawk there will be a tournament.  And to the\ntournament will go all the array thou didst see in the city, of men, and\nof horses, and of arms.  And with each man will go the lady he loves\nbest; and no man can joust for the Sparrow-Hawk, except the lady he loves\nbest be with him.  And the knight that thou sawest has gained the Sparrow-\nHawk these two years; and if he gains it the third year, they will, from\nthat time, send it every year to him, and he himself will come here no\nmore.  And he will be called the knight of the Sparrow-Hawk from that\ntime forth.\"  \"Sir,\" said Geraint, \"what is thy counsel to me concerning\nthis knight, on account of the insult which I received from the dwarf,\nand that which was received by the maiden of Gwenhwyvar, the wife of\nArthur?\"  And Geraint told the hoary-headed man what the insult was that\nhe had received.  \"It is not easy to counsel thee, inasmuch as thou hast\nneither dame nor maiden belonging to thee, for whom thou canst joust.\nYet, I have arms here, which thou couldest have; and there is my horse\nalso, if he seem to thee better than thine own.\"  \"Ah!  Sir,\" said he,\n\"Heaven reward thee.  But my own horse, to which I am accustomed,\ntogether with thine arms, will suffice me.  And if, when the appointed\ntime shall come to-morrow, thou wilt permit me, Sir, to challenge for\nyonder maiden that is thy daughter, I will engage, if I escape from the\ntournament, to love the maiden as long as I live, and if I do not escape,\nshe will remain unsullied as before.\"  \"Gladly will I permit thee,\" said\nthe hoary-headed man, \"and since thou dost thus resolve, it is necessary\nthat thy horse and arms should be ready to-morrow at break of day.  For\nthen, the knight of the Sparrow-Hawk will make proclamation, and ask the\nlady he loves best to take the Sparrow-Hawk.  'For,' will he say to her,\n'thou art the fairest of women, and thou didst possess it last year, and\nthe year previous; and if any deny it thee to-day, by force will I defend\nit for thee.'  And therefore,\" said the hoary-headed man, \"it is needful\nfor thee to be there at daybreak; and we three will be with thee,\" and\nthus was it settled.\n\nAnd at night, lo! {17} they went to sleep; and before the dawn they\narose, and arrayed themselves; and by the time that it was day, they were\nall four in the meadow.  And there was the knight of the Sparrow-Hawk\nmaking the proclamation, and asking his ladylove to fetch the Sparrow-\nHawk.  \"Fetch it not,\" said Geraint, \"for there is here a maiden, who is\nfairer, and more noble, and more comely, and who has a better claim to it\nthan thou.\"  \"If thou maintainest the Sparrow-Hawk to be due to her, come\nforward, and do battle with me.\"  And Geraint went forward to the top of\nthe meadow, having upon himself and upon his horse armour which was\nheavy, and rusty, and worthless, and of uncouth shape.  Then they\nencountered each other, and they broke a set of lances, and they broke a\nsecond set, and a third.  And thus they did at every onset, and they\nbroke as many lances as were brought to them.  And when the Earl and his\ncompany saw the knight of the Sparrow-Hawk gaining the mastery, there was\nshouting, and joy, and mirth amongst them.  And the hoary-headed man, and\nhis wife, and his daughter, were sorrowful.  And the hoary-headed man\nserved Geraint lances as often as he broke them, and the dwarf served the\nknight of the Sparrow-Hawk.  Then the hoary-headed man came to Geraint.\n\"Oh! chieftain,\" said he, \"since no other will hold with thee, behold,\nhere is the lance which was in my hand on the day when I received the\nhonour of knighthood; and from that time to this I never broke it.  And\nit has an excellent point.\"  Then Geraint took the lance, thanking the\nhoary-headed man.  And thereupon the dwarf also brought a lance to his\nlord.  \"Behold here is a lance for thee, not less good than his,\" said\nthe dwarf.  \"And bethink thee, that no knight ever withstood thee before\nso long as this one has done.\"  \"I declare to Heaven,\" said Geraint,\n\"that unless death takes me quickly hence, he shall fare never the better\nfor thy service.\"  And Geraint pricked his horse towards him from afar,\nand warning him, he rushed upon him, and gave him a blow so severe, and\nfurious, and fierce, upon the face of his shield, that he cleft it in\ntwo, and broke his armour, and burst his girths, so that both he and his\nsaddle were borne to the ground over the horse's crupper.  And Geraint\ndismounted quickly.  And he was wroth, and he drew his sword, and rushed\nfiercely upon him.  Then the knight also arose, and drew his sword\nagainst Geraint.  And they fought on foot with their swords until their\naims struck sparks of fire like stars from one another; and thus they\ncontinued fighting until the blood and sweat obscured the light from\ntheir eyes.  And when Geraint prevailed, the hoary-headed man, and his\nwife, and his daughter were glad; and when the knight prevailed, it\nrejoiced the Earl and his party.  Then the hoary-headed man saw Geraint\nreceive a severe stroke, and he went up to him quickly, and said to him,\n\"Oh, chieftain, remember the treatment which thou hadst from the dwarf;\nand wilt thou not seek vengeance for the insult to thyself, and for the\ninsult to Gwenhwyvar the wife of Arthur!\"  And Geraint was roused by what\nhe said to him, {19} and he called to him all his strength, and lifted up\nhis sword, and struck the knight upon the crown of his head, so that he\nbroke all his head armour, and cut through all the flesh and the skin,\neven to the skull, until he wounded the bone.\n\n{Picture: p18.jpg}\n\nThen the knight fell upon his knees, and cast his sword from his hand,\nand besought mercy of Geraint.  \"Of a truth,\" said he, \"I relinquish my\noverdaring and my pride in craving thy mercy; and unless I have time to\ncommit myself to Heaven for my sins, and to talk with a priest, thy mercy\nwill avail me little.\"  \"I will grant thee grace upon this condition,\"\nsaid Geraint, \"that thou wilt go to Gwenhwyvar, the wife of Arthur, to do\nher satisfaction for the insult which her maiden received from thy dwarf.\nAs to myself, for the insult which I received from thee and thy dwarf, I\nam content with that which I have done unto thee.  Dismount not from the\ntime thou goest hence until thou comest into the presence of Gwenhwyvar,\nto make her what atonement shall be adjudged at the Court of Arthur.\"\n\"This will I do gladly.  And who art thou?\" said he.  \"I am Geraint the\nson of Erbin.  And declare thou also who thou art.\"  \"I am Edeyrn the son\nof Nudd.\"  Then he threw himself upon his horse, and went forward to\nArthur's Court, and the lady he loved best went before him and the dwarf,\nwith much lamentation.  And thus far this story up to that time.\n\n* * * * *\n\nThen came the little Earl and his hosts to Geraint, and saluted him, and\nbade him to his castle.  \"I may not go,\" said Geraint, \"but where I was\nlast night, there will I be to-night also.\"  \"Since thou wilt none of my\ninviting, thou shall have abundance of all that I can command for thee,\nin the place thou wast last night.  And I will order ointment for thee,\nto recover thee from thy fatigues, and from the weariness that is upon\nthee.\"  \"Heaven reward thee,\" said Geraint, \"and I will go to my\nlodging.\"  And thus went Geraint, and Earl Ynywl, and his wife, and his\ndaughter.  And when they reached the chamber, the household servants and\nattendants of the young Earl had arrived at the Court, and they arranged\nall the houses, dressing them with straw and with fire; and in a short\ntime the ointment was ready, and Geraint came there, and they washed his\nhead.  Then came the young Earl, with forty honourable knights from among\nhis attendants, and those who were bidden to the tournament.  And Geraint\ncame from the anointing.  And the Earl asked him to go to the hall to\neat.  \"Where is the Earl Ynywl,\" said Geraint, \"and his wife, and his\ndaughter?\"  \"They are in the chamber yonder,\" said the Earl's\nchamberlain, \"arraying themselves in garments which the Earl has caused\nto be brought for them.\"  \"Let not the damsel array herself,\" said he,\n\"except in her vest and her veil, until she come to the Court of Arthur,\nto be clad by Gwenhwyvar, in such garments as she may choose.\"  So the\nmaiden did not array herself.\n\nThen they all entered the hall, and they washed, and went, and sat down\nto meat.  And thus were they seated.  On one side of Geraint sat the\nyoung Earl, and Earl Ynywl beyond him; and on the other side of Geraint\nwas the maiden and her mother.  And after these all sat according to\ntheir precedence in honour.  And they ate.  And they were served\nabundantly, and they received a profusion of divers kind of gifts.  Then\nthey conversed together.  And the young Earl invited Geraint to visit him\nnext day.  \"I will not, by Heaven,\" said Geraint.  \"To the Court of\nArthur will I go with this maiden to-morrow.  And it is enough for me, as\nlong as Earl Ynywl is in poverty and trouble; and I go chiefly to seek to\nadd to his maintenance.\"  \"Ah, chieftain,\" said the young Earl, \"it is\nnot by my fault that Earl Ynywl is without his possessions.\"  \"By my\nfaith,\" said Geraint, \"he shall not remain without them, unless death\nquickly takes me hence.\"  \"Oh, chieftain,\" said he, \"with regard to the\ndisagreement between me and Ynywl, I will gladly abide by thy counsel,\nand agree to what thou mayest judge right between us.\" {22}  \"I but ask\nthee,\" said Geraint, \"to restore to him what is his, and what he should\nhave received from the time he lost his possessions, even until this\nday.\"  \"That will I do gladly, for thee,\" answered he.  \"Then,\" said\nGeraint, \"whosoever is here who owes homage to Ynywl, let him come\nforward, and perform it on the spot.\"  And all the men did so.  And by\nthat treaty they abided.  And his castle, and his town, and all his\npossessions, were restored to Ynywl.  And he received back all that he\nhad lost, even to the smallest jewel.\n\nThen spoke Earl Ynywl to Geraint.  \"Chieftain,\" said he \"behold the\nmaiden for whom thou didst challenge at the tournament, I bestow her upon\nthee.\"  \"She shall go with me,\" said Geraint, \"to the Court of Arthur;\nand Arthur and Gwenhwyvar, they shall dispose of her as they will.\"  And\nthe next day they proceeded to Arthur's Court.  So far concerning\nGeraint.\n\n* * * * *\n\nNow, this is how Arthur hunted the stag.  The men and the dogs were\ndivided into hunting parties, and the dogs were let loose upon the stag.\nAnd the last dog that was let loose was the favourite dog of Arthur.\nCavall was his name.  And he left all the other dogs behind him, and\nturned the stag.  And at the second turn, the stag came towards the\nhunting party of Arthur.  And Arthur set upon him.  And before he could\nbe slain by any other, Arthur cut off his head.  Then they sounded the\ndeath horn for slaying, and they all gathered round.\n\nThen came Kadyrieith to Arthur, and spoke to him.  \"Lord,\" said he,\n\"behold yonder is Gwenhwyvar, and none with her save only one maiden.\"\n\"Command Gildas the son of Caw, and all the scholars of the Court,\" said\nArthur, \"to attend Gwenhwyvar to the palace.\"  And they did so.\n\nThen they all set forth, holding converse together concerning the head of\nthe stag, to whom it should be given.  One wished that it should be given\nto the lady best beloved by him, and another to the lady whom he loved\nbest.  And all they of the household and the knights disputed sharply\nconcerning the head.  And with that they came to the palace.  And when\nArthur and Gwenhwyvar heard them disputing about the head of the stag,\nGwenhwyvar said to Arthur, \"My lord, this is my counsel concerning the\nstag's head; let it not be given away until Geraint the son of Erbin\nshall return from the errand he is upon.\"  And Gwenhwyvar told Arthur\nwhat that errand was.  \"Right gladly shall it be so,\" said Arthur.  And\nthus it was settled.  And the next day Gwenhwyvar caused a watch to be\nset upon the ramparts for Geraint's coming.  And after mid-day they\nbeheld an unshapely little man upon a horse, and after him, as they\nsupposed, a dame or a damsel, also on horseback, and after her a knight\nof large stature, bowed down, and hanging his head low and sorrowfully,\nand clad in broken and worthless armour.\n\nAnd before they came near to the gate, one of the watch went to\nGwenhwyvar, and told her what kind of people they saw, and what aspect\nthey bore.  \"I know not who they are,\" said he.  \"But I know,\" said\nGwenhwyvar, \"this is the knight whom Geraint pursued, and methinks that\nhe comes not here by his own free will.  But Geraint has overtaken him,\nand avenged the insult to the maiden to the uttermost.\"  And thereupon,\nbehold a porter came to the spot where Gwenhwyvar was.  \"Lady,\" said he,\n\"at the gate there is a knight, and I saw never a man of so pitiful an\naspect to look upon as he.  Miserable and broken is the armour that he\nwears, and the hue of blood is more conspicuous upon it than its own\ncolour.\"  \"Knowest thou his name?\" said she.  \"I do,\" said he, \"he tells\nme that he is Edeyrn the son of Nudd.\"  Then she replied, \"I know him\nnot.\"\n\nSo Gwenhwyvar went to the gate to meet him, and he entered.  And\nGwenhwyvar was sorry when she saw the condition he was in, even though he\nwas accompanied by the churlish dwarf.  Then Edeyrn saluted Gwenhwyvar.\n\"Heaven protect thee,\" said she.  \"Lady,\" said he, \"Geraint the son of\nErbin, thy best and most valiant servant, greets thee.\"  \"Did he meet\nwith thee?\" she asked.  \"Yes,\" said he, \"and it was not to my advantage;\nand that was not his fault, but mine, Lady.  And Geraint greets thee\nwell; and in greeting thee he compelled me to come hither to do thy\npleasure for the insult which thy maiden received from the dwarf.  He\nforgives the insult to himself, in consideration of his having put me in\nperil of my life.  And he imposed on me a condition, manly, and\nhonourable, and warrior-like, which was to do thee justice, Lady.\"  \"Now,\nwhere did he overtake thee?\"  \"At the place where we were jousting, and\ncontending for the Sparrow-Hawk, in the town which is now called Cardiff.\nAnd there were none with him, save three persons, of a mean and tattered\ncondition.  And these were an aged, hoary-headed man and a woman advanced\nin years, and a fair young maiden, clad in worn-out garments.  And it was\nfor the avouchment of the love of that maiden that Geraint jousted for\nthe Sparrow-Hawk at the tournament; for he said that that maiden was\nbetter entitled to the Sparrow-Hawk than this maiden who was with me.  And\nthereupon we encountered each other, and he left me, Lady, as thou\nseest.\"  \"Sir,\" said she, \"when thinkest thou that Geraint will be here?\"\n\"To-morrow, Lady, I think he will be here with the maiden.\"\n\nThen Arthur came to him, and he saluted Arthur, and Arthur gazed a long\ntime upon him, and was amazed to see him thus.  And thinking that he knew\nhim, he enquired of him, \"Art thou Edeyrn the son of Nudd?\"  \"I am,\nLord,\" said he, \"and I have met with much trouble, and received wounds\nunsupportable.\"  Then he told Arthur all his adventure.\n\n\"Well,\" said Arthur, \"from what I hear, it behoves Gwenhwyvar to be\nmerciful towards thee.\"  \"The mercy which thou desirest, Lord,\" said she,\n\"will I grant to him, since it is as insulting to thee that an insult\nshould be offered to me as to thyself.\"  \"Thus will it be best to do,\"\nsaid Arthur, \"let this man have medical care until it be known whether he\nmay live.  And if he live, he shall do such satisfaction as shall be\njudged best by the men of the Court; and take thou sureties to that\neffect.  And it he die, too much will be the death of such a youth as\nEdeyrn for an insult to a maiden.\"  \"This pleases me,\" said Gwenhwyvar.\nAnd Arthur became surety for Edeyrn, and Caradawc the son of Llyr,\nGwallawg the son of Llenawg, and Owain the son of Nudd, and Gwalchmai,\nand many others with them.  And Arthur caused Morgan Tud to be called to\nhim.  He was the chief physician.  \"Take with thee Edeyrn the son of\nNudd, and cause a chamber to be prepared for him, and let him have the\naid of medicine as thou wouldest do unto myself if I were wounded, and\nlet none into his chamber to molest him, but thyself and thy disciples,\nto administer to him remedies.\"  \"I will do so, gladly, Lord,\" said\nMorgan Tud.  Then said the steward of the household, \"Whither is it\nright, Lord, to order the maiden?\"  \"To Gwenhwyvar and her and maidens,\"\nsaid he.  And the Steward of the Household so ordered her.  Thus far\nconcerning them.\n\n* * * * *\n\nThe next day came Geraint towards the Court, and there was a watch set on\nthe ramparts by Gwenhwyvar, lest he should arrive unawares.  And one of\nthe watch came to the place where Gwenhwyvar was.  \"Lady,\" said he,\n\"methinks that I see Geraint, and the maiden with him.  He is on\nhorseback, but he has his walking gear upon him, and the maiden appears\nto be in white, seeming to be clad in a garment of linen.\"  \"Assemble all\nthe women,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"and come to meet Geraint, to welcome him,\nand wish him joy.\"  And Gwenhwyvar went to meet Geraint and the maiden.\nAnd when Geraint came to the place where Gwenhwyvar was, he saluted her.\n\"Heaven prosper thee,\" said she, \"and welcome to thee.  And thy career\nhas been successful, and fortunate, and resistless, and glorious.  And\nHeaven reward thee, that thou hast so proudly caused me to have\nretribution.\"  \"Lady,\" said he, \"I earnestly desired to obtain thee\nsatisfaction according to thy will; and, behold, here is the maiden\nthrough whom thou hadst thy revenge.\"  \"Verily,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"the\nwelcome of Heaven be unto her; and it is fitting that we should receive\nher joyfully.\"  Then they went in, and dismounted.  And Geraint came to\nwhere Arthur was, and saluted him.  \"Heaven protect thee,\" said Arthur,\n\"and the welcome of Heaven be unto thee.  And since {27} Edeyrn the son\nof Nudd has received his overthrow and wounds from thy hands, thou hadst\nhad a prosperous career.\"  \"Not upon me be the blame,\" said Geraint, \"it\nwas through the arrogance of Edeyrn the son of Nudd himself that we were\nnot friends.  I would not quit him until I knew who he was, and until the\none had vanquished the other.\"  \"Now,\" said Arthur, \"where is the maiden\nfor whom I heard thou didst give challenge?\"  \"She is gone with\nGwenhwyvar to her chamber.\"  Then went Arthur to see the maiden.  And\nArthur, and all his companions, and his whole Court, were glad concerning\nthe maiden.  And certain were they all, that had her array been suitable\nto her beauty, they had never seen a maid fairer than she.  And Arthur\ngave away the maiden to Geraint.  And the usual bond made between two\npersons was made between Geraint and the maiden, and the choicest of all\nGwenhwyvar's apparel was given to the maiden; and thus arrayed, she\nappeared comely and graceful to all who beheld her.  And that day and\nthat night were spent in abundance of minstrelsy, and ample gifts of\nliquor, and a multitude of games.  And when it was time for them to go to\nsleep, they went.  And in the chamber where the couch of Arthur and\nGwenhwyvar was, the couch of Geraint and Enid was prepared.  And from\nthat time she became his bride.  And the next day Arthur satisfied all\nthe claimants upon Geraint with bountiful gifts.  And the maiden took up\nher abode in the palace, and she had many companions, both men and women,\nand there was no maiden more esteemed than she in the Island of Britain.\n\nThen spake Gwenhwyvar.  \"Rightly did I judge,\" said she, \"concerning the\nhead of the stag, that it should not be given to any until Geraint's\nreturn; and, behold, here is a fit occasion for bestowing it.  Let it be\ngiven to Enid, the daughter of Ynywl, the most illustrious maiden.  And I\ndo not believe that any will begrudge it her, for between her and every\none here there exists nothing but love and friendship.\"  Much applauded\nwas this by them all, and by Arthur also.  And the head of the stag was\ngiven to Enid.  And thereupon her fame increased, and her friends\nthenceforward became more in number than before.  And Geraint from that\ntime forth loved the stag, and the tournament, and hard encounters; and\nhe came victorious from them all.  And a year, and a second, and a third,\nhe proceeded thus, until his fame had flown over the face of the kingdom.\n\nAnd once upon a time, Arthur was holding his Court at Caerlleon upon Usk,\nat Whitsuntide.  And, behold, there came to him ambassadors, wise and\nprudent, full of knowledge, and eloquent of speech, and they saluted\nArthur.  \"Heaven prosper you,\" said Arthur, \"and the welcome of Heaven be\nunto you.  And whence do you come?\"  \"We come, Lord,\" said they, \"from\nCornwall; and we are ambassadors from Erbin the son of Custennin, thy\nuncle, and our mission is unto thee.  And he greets thee well, as an\nuncle should greet his nephew, and as a vassal should greet his lord.  And\nhe represents unto thee that he waxes heavy and feeble, and is advancing\nin years.  And the neighbouring chiefs knowing this, grow insolent\ntowards him, and covet his land and possessions.  And he earnestly\nbeseeches thee, Lord, to permit Geraint his son to return to him, to\nprotect his possessions, and to become acquainted with his boundaries.\nAnd unto him he represents that it were better for him to spend the\nflower of his youth, and the prime of his age, in preserving his own\nboundaries, than in tournaments, which are productive of no profit,\nalthough he obtains glory in them.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Arthur, \"go, and divest yourselves of your accoutrements,\nand take food, and refresh yourselves after your fatigues; and before you\ngo forth hence you shall have an answer.\"  And they went to eat.  And\nArthur considered that it would go hard with him to let Geraint depart\nfrom him and from his Court; neither did he think it fair that his cousin\nshould be restrained from going to protect his dominions and his\nboundaries, seeing that his father was unable to do so.  No less was the\ngrief and regret of Gwenhwyvar, and all her women, and all her damsels,\nthrough fear that the maiden would leave them.  And that day and that\nnight were spent in abundance of feasting.  And Arthur showed Geraint the\ncause of the mission, and of the coming of the ambassadors to him out of\nCornwall.  \"Truly,\" said Geraint, \"be it to my advantage or disadvantage,\nLord, I will do according to thy will concerning this embassy.\"  \"Behold,\"\nsaid Arthur, \"though it grieves me to part with thee, it is my counsel\nthat thou go to dwell in thine own dominions, and to defend thy\nboundaries, and to take with thee to accompany thee as many as thou wilt\nof those thou lovest best among my faithful ones, and among thy friends,\nand among thy companions in arms.\"  \"Heaven reward thee; and this will I\ndo,\" said Geraint.  \"What discourse,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"do I hear between\nyou?  Is it of those who are to conduct Geraint to his country?\"  \"It\nis,\" said Arthur.  \"Then is it needful for me to consider,\" said she,\n\"concerning companions and a provision for the lady that is with me?\"\n\"Thou wilt do well,\" said Arthur.\n\nAnd that night they went to sleep.  And the next day the ambassadors were\npermitted to depart, and they were told that Geraint should follow them.\nAnd on the third day Geraint set forth, and many went with him.  Gwalchmai\nthe son of Gwyar, and Riogonedd the son of the king of Ireland, and\nOndyaw the son of the duke of Burgandy, Gwilim the son of the ruler of\nthe Franks, Howel the son of Emyr of Brittany, Elivry, and Nawkyrd, Gwynn\nthe son of Tringad, Goreu the son of Custennin, Gweir Gwrhyd Vawr,\nGarannaw the son of Golithmer, Peredur the son of Evrawc, Gwynnllogell,\nGwyr a judge in the Court of Arthur, Dyvyr the son of Alun of Dyved,\nGwrei Gwalstawd Ieithoedd, Bedwyr the son of Bedrawd, Hadwry the son of\nGwryon, Kai the son of Kynyr, Odyar the Frank, the Steward of Arthur's\nCourt, and Edeyrn the son of Nudd.  Said Geraint, \"I think that I shall\nhave enough of knighthood with me.\"  \"Yes,\" said Arthur, \"but it will not\nbe fitting for thee to take Edeyrn with thee, although he is well, until\npeace shall be made between him and Gwenhwyvar.\"  \"Gwenhwyvar can permit\nhim to go with me, if he gives sureties.\"  \"If she please, she can let\nhim go without sureties, for enough of pain and affliction has he\nsuffered for the insult which the maiden received from the dwarf.\"\n\"Truly,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"since it seems well to thee and to Geraint, I\nwill do this gladly, Lord.\"  Then she permitted Edeyrn freely to depart.\nAnd many there were who accompanied Geraint, and they set forth; and\nnever was there seen a fairer host journeying towards the Severn.  And on\nthe other side of the Severn were the nobles of Erbin the son of\nCustennin, and his foster father at their head, to welcome Geraint with\ngladness; and many of the women of the Court, with his mother, came to\nreceive Enid the daughter of Ynywl, his wife.  And there was great\nrejoicing and gladness throughout the whole Court, and throughout all the\ncountry, concerning Geraint, because of the greatness of their love\ntowards him, and of the greatness of the fame which he had gained since\nhe went from amongst them, and because he was come to take possession of\nhis dominions, and to preserve his boundaries.  And they came to the\nCourt.  And in the Court they had ample entertainment, and a multitude of\ngifts, and abundance of liquor, and a sufficiency of service, and a\nvariety of minstrelsy and of games.  And to do honour to Geraint, all the\nchief men of the country were invited that night to visit him.  And they\npassed that day and that night in the utmost enjoyment.  And at dawn next\nday Erbin arose, and summoned to him Geraint, and the noble persons who\nhad borne him company.  And he said to Geraint, \"I am a feeble and an\naged man, and whilst I was able to maintain the dominion for thee and for\nmyself, I did so.  But thou art young, and in the flower of thy vigour\nand of thy youth: henceforth do thou preserve thy possessions.\"  \"Truly,\"\nsaid Geraint, \"with my consent thou shalt not give the power over thy\ndominions at this time into my hands, and thou shall not take me from\nArthur's Court.\"  \"Into thy hands will I give them,\" said Erbin, \"and\nthis day also shalt thou receive the homage of thy subjects.\"\n\nThen said Gwalchmai, \"It were better for thee to satisfy those who have\nboons to ask, to-day, and to-morrow thou canst receive the homage of thy\ndominions.\"  So all that had boons to ask were summoned into one place.\nAnd Kadyrieith came to them, to know what were their requests.  And every\none asked that which he desired.  And the followers of Arthur began to\nmake gifts and immediately the men of Cornwall came, and gave also.  And\nthey were not long in giving, so eager was every one to bestow gifts.  And\nof those who came to ask gifts, none departed unsatisfied.  And that day\nand that night were spent in the utmost enjoyment.\n\nAnd the next day, at dawn, Erbin desired Geraint to send messengers to\nthe men, to ask them whether it was displeasing to them that he should\ncome to receive their homage, and whether they had anything to object to\nhim.  Then Geraint sent ambassadors to the men of Cornwall, to ask them\nthis.  And they all said that it would be the fulness of joy and honour\nto them for Geraint to come and receive their homage.  So he received the\nhomage of such as were there.  And they remained with him till the third\nnight.  And the day after the followers of Arthur intended to go away.\n\"It is too soon for you to go away yet,\" said he, \"stay with me until I\nhave finished receiving the homage of my chief men, who have agreed to\ncome to me.\"  And they remained with him until he had done so.  Then they\nset forth towards the Court of Arthur; and Geraint went to bear them\ncompany, and Enid also, as far as Diganhwy: there they parted.  Then\nOndyaw the son of the duke of Burgundy said to Geraint, \"Go first of all,\nand visit the uttermost parts of thy dominions, and see well to the\nboundaries of thy territories; and if thou hast any trouble respecting\nthem, send unto thy companions.\"  \"Heaven reward thee,\" said Geraint,\n\"and this will I do.\"  And Geraint journeyed to the uttermost part of his\ndominions.  And experienced guides, and the chief men of his country,\nwent with him.  And the furthermost point that they showed him he kept\npossession of.\n\nAnd, as he had been used to do when he was at Arthur's Court, he\nfrequented tournaments.  And he became acquainted with valiant and mighty\nmen, until he had gained as much fame there as he had formerly done\nelsewhere.  And he enriched his Court, and his companions, and his\nnobles, with the best horses, and the best arms, and with the best and\nmost valuable jewels, and he ceased not until his fame had flown over the\nface of the whole kingdom.  And when he knew that it was thus, he began\nto love ease and pleasure, for there was no one who was worth his\nopposing.  And he loved his wife, and liked to continue in the palace,\nwith minstrelsy and diversions.  And for a long time he abode at home.\nAnd after that he began to shut himself up in the chamber of his wife,\nand he took no delight in anything besides, insomuch that he gave up the\nfriendship of his nobles, together with his hunting and his amusements,\nand lost the hearts of all the host in his Court; and there was murmuring\nand scoffing concerning him among the inhabitants of the palace, on\naccount of his relinquishing so completely their companionship for the\nlove of his wife.  And these tidings came to Erbin.  And when Erbin had\nheard these things, he spoke unto Enid, and enquired of her whether it\nwas she that had caused Geraint to act thus, and to forsake his people\nand his hosts.  \"Not I, by my confession unto Heaven,\" said she; \"there\nis nothing more hateful to me than this.\"  And she knew not what she\nshould do, for, although it was hard for her to own this to Geraint, yet\nwas it not more easy for her to listen to what she heard without warning\nGeraint concerning it.  And she was very sorrowful.\n\nAnd one morning in the summer time, they were upon their couch, and\nGeraint lay upon the edge of it.  And Enid was without sleep in the\napartment, which had windows of glass.  And the sun shone upon the couch.\nAnd the clothes had slipped from off his arms and his breast, and he was\nasleep.  Then she gazed upon the marvellous beauty of his appearance, and\nshe said, \"Alas, and am I the cause that these arms and this breast have\nlost their glory and the warlike fame which they once so richly enjoyed!\"\nAnd as she said this, the tears dropped from her eyes, and they fell upon\nhis breast.  And the tears she shed, and the words she had spoken, awoke\nhim; and another thing contributed to awaken him, and that was the idea\nthat it was not in thinking of him that she spoke thus, but that it was\nbecause she loved some other man more than him, and that she wished for\nother society, and thereupon Geraint was troubled in his mind, and he\ncalled his squire; and when he came to him, \"Go quickly,\" said he, \"and\nprepare my horse and my arms, and make them ready.  And do thou arise,\"\nsaid he to Enid, \"and apparel thyself; and cause thy horse to be\naccoutred, and clothe thee in the worst riding dress that thou hast in\nthy possession.  And evil betide me,\" said he, \"if thou returnest here\nuntil thou knowest whether I have lost my strength so completely as thou\ndidst say.  And if it be so, it will then be easy for thee to seek the\nsociety thou didst wish for of him of whom thou wast thinking.\"  So she\narose, and clothed herself in her meanest garments.  \"I know nothing,\nLord,\" said she, \"of thy meaning.\"  \"Neither wilt thou know at this\ntime,\" said he.\n\nThen Geraint went to see Erbin.  \"Sir,\" said he, \"I am going upon a\nquest, and I am not certain when I may come back.  Take heed, therefore,\nunto thy possessions, until my return.\"  \"I will do so,\" said he, \"but it\nis strange to me that thou shouldst go so suddenly.  And who will proceed\nwith thee, since thou art not strong enough to traverse the land of\nLloegyr alone.\"  \"But one person only will go with me.\"  \"Heaven counsel\nthee, my son,\" said Erbin, \"and may many attach themselves to thee in\nLloegyr.\"  Then went Geraint to the place where his horse was, and it was\nequipped with foreign armour, heavy and shining.  And he desired Enid to\nmount her horse, and to ride forward, and to keep a long way before him.\n\"And whatever thou mayest see, and whatever thou mayest hear, concerning\nme,\" said he, \"do thou not turn back.  And unless I speak unto thee, say\nnot thou one word either.\"  And they set forward.  And he did not choose\nthe pleasantest and most frequented road, but that which was the wildest\nand most beset by thieves, and robbers, and venomous animals.  And they\ncame to a high road, which they followed till they saw a vast forest, and\nthey went towards it, and they saw four armed horsemen come forth from\nthe forest.  When they had beheld them, one of them said to the other,\n\"Behold, here is a good occasion for us to capture two horses and armour,\nand a lady likewise; for this we shall have no difficulty in doing\nagainst yonder single knight, who hangs his head so pensively and\nheavily.\"  And Enid heard this discourse, and she knew not what she\nshould do through fear of Geraint, who had told her to be silent.  \"The\nvengeance of Heaven be upon me,\" she said, \"if I would not rather receive\nmy death from his hand than from the hand of any other; and though he\nshould slay me, yet will I speak to him, lest I should have the misery to\nwitness his death.\" {36a}  So she waited for Geraint until he came near\nto her.  \"Lord,\" said she, \"didst thou hear the words of those men\nconcerning thee?\"  Then he lifted up his eyes, and looked at her angrily.\n\"Thou hadst only,\" said he, \"to hold thy peace as I bade thee.  I wish\nbut for silence and not for warning. {36b}  And though thou shouldst\ndesire to see my defeat and my death by the hands of those men, yet do I\nfeel no dread.\"  Then the foremost of them couched his lance, and rushed\nupon Geraint.  And he received him, and that not feebly.  But he let the\nthrust go by him, while he struck the horseman upon the centre of his\nshield in such a manner, that his shield was split, and his armour\nbroken, and so that a cubit's length of the shaft of Geraint's lance\npassed through his body, and sent him to the earth the length of the\nlance over his horse's crupper.  Then the second horseman attacked him\nfuriously, being wroth at the death of his companion.  But with one\nthrust Geraint overthrew him also, and killed him as he had done the\nother.  Then the third set upon him, and he killed him in like manner.\nAnd thus also he slew the fourth.  Sad and sorrowful was the maiden as\nshe saw all this.  Geraint dismounted his horse, and took the arms of the\nmen he had slain, and placed them upon their saddles, and tied together\nthe reins of their horses, and he mounted his horse again.  \"Behold what\nthou must do,\" said he, \"take the four horses, and drive them before\nthee, and proceed forward, as I bade thee just now.  And say not one word\nunto me, unless I speak first unto thee.  And I declare unto Heaven,\"\nsaid he, \"if thou doest not thus, it will be to thy cost.\"  \"I will do,\nas far as I can, Lord,\" said she, \"according to thy desire.\"  Then they\nwent forward through the forest; and when they left the forest, they came\nto a vast plain, in the centre of which was a group of thickly tangled\ncopse-wood; and from out thereof they beheld three horsemen coming\ntowards them, well equipped with armour, both they and their horses.  Then\nthe maiden looked steadfastly upon them; and when they had come near, she\nheard them say one to another, \"Behold, here is a good arrival for us,\nhere are coming for us four horses and four suits of armour.  We shall\neasily obtain them spite of yonder dolorous knight, and the maiden also\nwill fall into our power.\"  \"This is but too true,\" said she to herself,\n\"for my husband is tired with his former combat.  The vengeance of Heaven\nwill be upon me, unless I warn him of this.\"  So the maiden waited until\nGeraint came up to her.  \"Lord,\" said she, \"dost thou not hear the\ndiscourse of yonder men concerning thee?\"  \"What was it?\" asked he.  \"They\nsay to one another, that they will easily obtain all this spoil.\"  \"I\ndeclare to Heaven,\" he answered, \"that their words are less grievous to\nme than that thou wilt not be silent, and abide by my counsel.\"  \"My\nLord,\" said she, \"I feared lest they should surprise thee unawares.\"\n\"Hold thy peace then,\" said he, \"do not I desire silence?\" {38}  And\nthereupon one of the horsemen couched his lance, and attacked Geraint.\nAnd he made a thrust at him, which he thought would be very effective;\nbut Geraint received it carelessly, and struck it aside, and then he\nrushed upon him, and aimed at the centre of his person, and from the\nshock of man and horse, the quantity of his armour did not avail him, and\nthe head of the lance and part of the shaft passed through him, so that\nhe was carried to the ground an arm and a spear's length over the crupper\nof his horse.  And both the other horsemen came forward in their turn,\nbut their onset was not more successful than that of their companion.  And\nthe maiden stood by, looking at all this; and on the one hand she was in\ntrouble lest Geraint should be wounded in his encounter with the men, and\non the other hand she was joyful to see him victorious.  Then Geraint\ndismounted, and bound the three suits of armour upon the three saddles,\nand he fastened the reins of all the horses together, so that he had\nseven horses with him.  And he mounted his own horse, and commanded the\nmaiden to drive forward the others.  \"It is no more use for me to speak\nto thee than to refrain, for thou wilt not attend to my advice.\"  \"I will\ndo so, as far I am able, Lord,\" said she; \"but I cannot conceal from thee\nthe fierce and threatening words which I may hear against thee, Lord,\nfrom such strange people as those that haunt this wilderness.\"  \"I\ndeclare to Heaven,\" said he, \"that I desire nought but silence;\ntherefore, hold thy peace.\" {39}  \"I will, Lord, while I can.\"  And the\nmaiden went on with the horses before her, and she pursued her way\nstraight onwards.  And from the copse-wood already mentioned, they\njourneyed over a vast and dreary open plain.  And at a great distance\nfrom them they beheld a wood, and they could see neither end nor boundary\nto the wood, except on that side that was nearest to them, and they went\ntowards it.  Then there came from out the wood five horsemen, eager, and\nbold, and mighty, and strong, mounted upon chargers that were powerful,\nand large of bone, and high-mettled, and proudly snorting, and both the\nmen and the horses were well equipped with arms.  And when they drew near\nto them, Enid heard them say, \"Behold, here is a fine booty coming to us,\nwhich we shall obtain easily and without labour, for we shall have no\ntrouble in taking all those horses and arms, and the lady also, from\nyonder single knight, so doleful and sad.\"\n\nSorely grieved was the maiden upon hearing this discourse, so that she\nknew not in the world what she should do.  At last, however, she\ndetermined to warn Geraint; so she turned her horse's head towards him.\n\"Lord,\" said she, \"if thou hadst heard as I did what yonder horsemen said\nconcerning thee, thy heaviness would be greater than it is.\"  Angrily and\nbitterly did Geraint smile upon her, and he said, \"Thee do I hear doing\neverything that I forbade thee; but it may be that thou wilt repent this\nyet.\"  And immediately, behold, the men met them, and victoriously and\ngallantly did Geraint overcome them all five.  And he placed the five\nsuits of armour upon the five saddles, and tied together the reins of the\ntwelve horses, and gave them in charge to Enid.  \"I know not,\" said he,\n\"what good it is for me to order thee; but this time I charge thee in an\nespecial manner.\"  So the maiden went forward towards the wood, keeping\nin advance of Geraint, as he had desired her; and it grieved him as much\nas his wrath would permit, to see a maiden so illustrious as she having\nso much trouble with the care of the horses.  Then they reached the wood,\nand it was both deep and vast; and in the wood night overtook them.  \"Ah,\nmaiden,\" said he, \"it is vain to attempt proceeding forward!\"  \"Well,\nLord,\" said she, \"whatsoever thou wishest, we will do.\"  \"It will be best\nfor us,\" he answered, \"to turn out of the wood, and to rest, and wait for\nthe day, in order to pursue our journey.\"  \"That will we, gladly,\" said\nshe.  And they did so.  Having dismounted himself, he took her down from\nher horse.  \"I cannot, by any means, refrain from sleep, through\nweariness,\" said he.  \"Do thou, therefore, watch the horses, and sleep\nnot.\"  \"I will, Lord,\" said she.  Then he went to sleep in his armour,\nand thus passed the night, which was not long at that season.  And when\nshe saw the dawn of day appear, she looked around her, to see if he were\nwaking, and thereupon he woke.  \"My Lord,\" she said, \"I have desired to\nawake thee for some time.\"  But he spake nothing to her about fatigue,\n{40} as he had desired her to be silent.  Then he arose, and said unto\nher, \"Take the horses, and ride on; and keep straight on before thee as\nthou didst yesterday.\"  And early in the day they left the wood, and they\ncame to an open country, with meadows on one hand, and mowers mowing the\nmeadows.  And there was a river before them, and the horses bent down,\nand drank the water.  And they went up out of the river by a lofty steep;\nand there they met a slender stripling, with a satchel about his neck,\nand they saw that there was something in the satchel, but they knew not\nwhat it was.  And he had a small blue pitcher in his hand, and a bowl on\nthe mouth of the pitcher.  And the youth saluted Geraint.  \"Heaven\nprosper thee,\" said Geraint, \"and whence dost thou come?\"  \"I come,\" said\nhe, \"from the city that lies before thee.  My Lord,\" he added, \"will it\nbe displeasing to thee, if I ask whence thou comest also?\"  \"By no\nmeans--through yonder wood did I come.\"  \"Thou camest not through the\nwood to-day.\"  \"No,\" he replied, \"we were in the wood last night.\"  \"I\nwarrant,\" said the youth, \"that thy condition there last night was not\nthe most pleasant, and that thou hadst neither meat nor drink.\"  \"No, by\nmy faith,\" said he.  \"Wilt thou follow my counsel,\" said the youth, \"and\ntake thy meal from me?\"  \"What sort of meal?\" he enquired.  \"The\nbreakfast which is sent for yonder mowers, nothing less than bread and\nmeat, and wine; and if thou wilt, Sir, they shall have none of it.\"  \"I\nwill,\" said he, \"and Heaven reward thee for it.\"\n\nSo Geraint alighted, and the youth took the maiden from off her horse.\nThen they washed, and took their repast.  And the youth cut the bread in\nslices, and gave them drink, and served them withal.  And when they had\nfinished, the youth arose, and said to Geraint, \"My Lord, with thy\npermission I will now go and fetch some food for the mowers.\"  \"Go,\nfirst, to the town,\" said Geraint, \"and take a lodging for me in the best\nplace that thou knowest, and the most commodious one for the horses, and\ntake thou whichever horse and arms thou choosest in payment for thy\nservice and thy gift.\"  \"Heaven reward thee, Lord,\" said the youth, \"and\nthis would be ample to repay services much greater than those I rendered\nunto thee.\"  And to the town went the youth, and he took the best and the\nmost pleasant lodgings that he knew; and after that he went to the\npalace, having the horse and armour with him, and proceeded to the place\nwhere the Earl was, and told him all his adventure.  \"I go now, Lord,\"\nsaid he, \"to meet the young man, and to conduct him to his lodging.\"  \"Go\ngladly,\" said the Earl, \"and right joyfully shall he be received here, if\nhe so come.\"  And the youth went to meet Geraint, and told him that he\nwould be received gladly by the Earl in his own palace; but he would go\nonly to his lodgings.  And he had a goodly chamber, in which was plenty\nof straw, and draperies, and a spacious and commodious place he had for\nthe horses, and the youth prepared for them plenty of provender.  And\nafter they had disarrayed themselves, Geraint spoke thus to Enid: \"Go,\"\nsaid he, \"to the other side of the chamber, and come not to this side of\nthe house; and thou mayest call to thee the woman of the house, if thou\nwilt.\"  \"I will do, Lord,\" said she, \"as thou sayest.\"  And thereupon the\nman of the house came to Geraint, and welcomed him.  \"Oh, chieftain,\" he\nsaid, \"hast thou taken thy meal?\"  \"I have,\" said he.  Then the youth\nspoke to him, and enquired if he would not drink something before he met\nthe Earl.  \"Truly, I will,\" said he.  So the youth went into the town,\nand brought them drink.  And they drank.  \"I must needs sleep,\" said\nGeraint.  \"Well,\" said the youth, \"and whilst thou sleepest, I will go to\nsee the Earl.\"  \"Go, gladly,\" he said, \"and come here again when I\nrequire thee.\"  And Geraint went to sleep, and so did Enid also.\n\nAnd the youth came to the place where the Earl was, and the Earl asked\nhim where the lodgings of the knight were, and he told him.  \"I must go,\"\nsaid the youth, \"to wait on him in the evening.\"  \"Go,\" answered the\nEarl, \"and greet him well from me, and tell him that in the evening I\nwill go to see him.\"  \"This will I do,\" said the youth.  So he came when\nit was time for them to awake.  And they arose, and went forth.  And when\nit was time for them to take their food they took it.  And the youth\nserved them.  And Geraint enquired of the man of the house, whether there\nwere any of his companions that he wished to invite to him, and he said\nthat there were.  \"Bring them hither, and entertain them at my cost with\nthe best thou canst buy in the town.\"\n\nAnd the man of the house brought there those whom he chose, and feasted\nthem at Geraint's expense.  Thereupon, behold, the Earl came to visit\nGeraint, and his twelve honourable knights with him.  And Geraint rose\nup, and welcomed him.  \"Heaven preserve thee,\" said the Earl.  Then they\nall sat down according to their precedence in honour.  And the Earl\nconversed with Geraint and enquired of him the object of his journey.  \"I\nhave none,\" he replied, \"but to seek adventures, and to follow my own\ninclination.\"  Then the Earl cast his eye upon Enid, and he looked at her\nsteadfastly.  And he thought he had never seen a maiden fairer or more\ncomely than she.  And he set all his thoughts and his affections upon\nher.  Then he asked of Geraint, \"Have I thy permission to go and converse\nwith yonder maiden, for I see that she is apart from thee?\"  \"Thou hast\nit, gladly,\" said he.  So the Earl went to the place where the maiden\nwas, and spake with her.  \"Ah, maiden,\" said he, \"it cannot be pleasant\nto thee to journey thus with yonder man!\"  \"It is not unpleasant to me,\"\nsaid she, \"to journey the same road that he journeys.\"  \"Thou hast\nneither youths nor maidens to serve thee,\" said he.  \"Truly,\" she\nreplied, \"it is more pleasant for me to follow yonder man than to be\nserved by youths and maidens.\"  \"I will give thee good counsel,\" said he.\n\"All my Earldom will I place in thy possession, if thou wilt dwell with\nme.\"  \"That will I not, by Heaven,\" she said, \"yonder man was the first\nto whom my faith was ever pledged; and shall I prove inconstant to him?\"\n\"Thou art in the wrong,\" said the Earl; \"if I slay the man yonder, I can\nkeep thee with me as long as I choose; and when thou no longer pleasest\nme, I can turn thee away.  But if thou goest with me by thy own good\nwill, I protest that our union shall continue eternal and undivided as\nlong as I remain alive.\"  Then she pondered these words of his, and she\nconsidered that it was advisable to encourage him in his request.\n\"Behold, then, chieftain, this is most expedient for thee to do to save\nme any needless imputation; come here to-morrow, and take me away as\nthough I knew nothing thereof.\"  \"I will do so,\" said he.  So he arose,\nand took his leave, and went forth with his attendants.  And she told not\nthen to Geraint any of the conversation which she had had with the Earl,\nlest it should rouse his anger, and cause him uneasiness and care.\n\nAnd at the usual hour they went to sleep.  And at the beginning of the\nnight Enid slept a little; and at midnight she arose, and placed all\nGeraint's armour together, so that it might be ready to put on.  And\nalthough fearful of her errand, she came to the side of Geraint's bed;\nand she spoke to him softly and gently, saying, \"My Lord, arise, and\nclothe thyself, for these were the words of the Earl to me, and his\nintention concerning me.\"  So she told Geraint all that had passed.  And\nalthough he was wroth with her, he took warning, and clothed himself.  And\nshe lighted a candle, that he might have light to do so.  \"Leave there\nthe candle,\" said he, \"and desire the man of the house to come here.\"\nThen she went, and the man of the house came to him.  \"Dost thou know how\nmuch I owe thee?\" asked Geraint.  \"I think thou owest but little.\"  \"Take\nthe eleven horses and the eleven suits of armour.\"  \"Heaven reward thee,\nLord,\" said he, \"but I spent not the value of one suit of armour upon\nthee.\"  \"For that reason,\" said he, \"thou wilt be the richer.  And now\nwilt thou come to guide me out of the town?\"  \"I will, gladly,\" said he,\n\"and in which direction dost thou intend to go?\"  \"I wish to leave the\ntown by a different way from that by which I entered it.\"  So the man of\nthe lodgings accompanied him as far as he desired.  Then he bade the\nmaiden to go on before him; and she did so, and went straight forward,\nand his host returned home.  And he had only just reached his house,\nwhen, behold, the greatest tumult approached that was ever heard.  And\nwhen he looked out he saw fourscore knights in complete armour around the\nhouse, with the Earl Dwrm at their head.  \"Where is the knight that was\nhere?\" said the Earl.  \"By thy hand,\" said he, \"he went hence some time\nago.\"  \"Wherefore, villain,\" said he, \"didst thou let him go without\ninforming me?\"  \"My Lord, thou didst not command me to do so, else would\nI not have allowed him to depart.\"  \"What way dost thou think that he\ntook?\"  \"I know not, except that he went along the high road.\"  And they\nturned their horses' heads that way, and seeing the tracks of the horses\nupon the high road, they followed.  And when the maiden beheld the\ndawning of the day, she looked behind her, and saw vast clouds of dust\ncoming nearer and nearer to her.  And thereupon she became uneasy, and\nshe thought that it was the Earl and his host coming after them.  And\nthereupon she beheld a knight appearing through the mist.  \"By my faith,\"\nsaid she, \"though he should slay me, it were better for me to receive my\ndeath at his hands, than to see him killed without warning him.\"  \"My\nLord,\" she said to him, \"seest thou yonder man hastening after thee, and\nmany others with him?\"  \"I do see him,\" said he, \"and in despite of all\nmy orders, I see that thou wilt never keep silence.\"  Then he turned upon\nthe knight, and with the first thrust he threw him down under his horse's\nfeet.  And as long as there remained one of the fourscore knights, he\noverthrew every one of them at the first onset.  And from the weakest to\nthe strongest, they all attacked him one after the other, except the\nEarl: and last of all the Earl came against him also.  And he broke his\nlance, and then he broke a second.  But Geraint turned upon him, and\nstruck him with his lance upon the centre of his shield, so that by that\nsingle thrust the shield was split, and all his armour broken, and he\nhimself was brought over his horse's crupper to the ground, and was in\nperil of his life.  And Geraint drew near to him; and at the noise of the\ntrampling of his horse the Earl revived.  \"Mercy, Lord,\" said he to\nGeraint.  And Geraint granted him mercy.  But through the hardness of the\nground where they had fallen, and the violence of the stroke which they\nhad received, there was not a single knight amongst them that escaped\nwithout receiving a fall, mortally severe, and grievously painful, and\ndesperately wounding, from the hand of Geraint.\n\n{Picture: p48.jpg}\n\nAnd Geraint journeyed along the high road that was before him, and the\nmaiden went on first; and near them they beheld a valley which was the\nfairest ever seen, and which had a large river running through it; and\nthere was a bridge over the river, and the high road led to the bridge.\nAnd above the bridge, upon the opposite side of the river, they beheld a\nfortified town, the fairest ever seen.  And as they approached the\nbridge, Geraint saw coming towards him from a thick copse a man mounted\nupon a large and lofty steed, even of pace and spirited though tractable.\n\"Ah, knight,\" said Geraint, \"whence comest thou?\"  \"I come,\" said he\n\"from the valley below us.\"  \"Canst thou tell me,\" said Geraint, \"who is\nthe owner of this fair valley and yonder walled town?\"  \"I will tell\nthee, willingly,\" said he, \"Gwiffert Petit he is called by the Franks,\nbut the Welsh call him the Little King.\"  \"Can I go by yonder bridge,\"\nsaid Geraint, \"and by the lower highway that is beneath the town?\"  Said\nthe knight, \"Thou canst not go by his tower {47a} on the other side of\nthe bridge, unless thou dost intend to combat him; because it is his\ncustom to encounter every knight that comes upon his lands.\"  \"I declare\nto Heaven,\" said Geraint, \"that I will, nevertheless, pursue my journey\nthat way.\" {47b}  \"If thou dost so,\" said the knight, \"thou wilt probably\nmeet with shame and disgrace in reward for thy daring.\" {48a}  Then\nGeraint proceeded along the road that led to the town, and the road\nbrought him to a ground that was hard, and rugged, and high, and ridgy.\n{48b} And as he journeyed thus, he beheld a knight following him upon a\nwar-horse, strong, and large, and proudly-stepping, and wide-hoofed, and\nbroad-chested.  And he never saw a man of smaller stature than he who was\nupon the horse.  And both he and his horse were completely armed.  When\nhe had overtaken Geraint he said to him, \"Tell me, chieftain, whether it\nis through ignorance or through presumption that thou seekest to insult\nmy dignity, and to infringe my rules?\"  \"Nay,\" answered Geraint, \"I knew\nnot that this road was forbid to any.\"  \"Thou didst know it,\" said the\nother; \"come with me to my Court, to do me satisfaction.\"  \"That will I\nnot, by my faith,\" said Geraint; \"I would not go even to thy Lord's\nCourt, excepting Arthur were thy Lord.\"  \"By the hand of Arthur himself,\"\nsaid the knight, \"I will have satisfaction of thee, or receive my\noverthrow at thy hands.\"  And immediately they charged one another.  And\na squire of his came to serve him with lances as he broke them.  And they\ngave each other such hard and severe strokes, that their shields lost all\ntheir colour.  But it was very difficult for Geraint to fight with him on\naccount of his small size, for he was hardly able to get a full aim at\nhim with all the efforts he could make. {49}  And they fought thus until\ntheir horses were brought down upon their knees; and at length Geraint\nthrew the knight headlong to the ground; and then they fought on foot,\nand they gave one another blows so boldly fierce, so frequent, and so\nseverely powerful, that their helmets were pierced, and their skullcaps\nwere broken, and their arms were shattered, and the light of their eyes\nwas darkened by sweat and blood.  At the last Geraint became enraged, and\nhe called to him all his strength; and boldly angry, and swiftly\nresolute, and furiously determined, he lifted up his sword, and struck\nhim on the crown of his head a blow so mortally painful, so violent, so\nfierce, and so penetrating, that it cut through all his head armour, and\nhis skin, and his flesh, until it wounded the very bone, and the sword\nflew out of the hand of the Little King to the furthest end of the plain,\nand he besought Geraint that he would have mercy and compassion upon him.\n\"Though thou hast been neither courteous nor just,\" said Geraint, \"thou\nshalt have mercy, upon condition that thou wilt become my ally, and\nengage never to fight against me again, but to come to my assistance\nwhenever thou hearest of my being in trouble.\"  \"This will I do, gladly,\nLord,\" said he.  So he pledged him his faith thereof.  \"And now, Lord,\ncome with me,\" said he, \"to my Court yonder, to recover from thy\nweariness and fatigue.\"  \"That will I not, by Heaven,\" said he.\n\nThen Gwiffert Petit beheld Enid where she stood, and it grieved him to\nsee one of her noble mien appear so deeply afflicted.  And he said to\nGeraint, \"My Lord, thou doest wrong not to take repose, and refresh\nthyself awhile; for, if thou meetest with any difficulty in thy present\ncondition, it will not be easy for thee to surmount it.\"  But Geraint\nwould do no other than proceed on his journey, and he mounted his horse\nin pain, and all covered with blood.  And the maiden went on first, and\nthey proceeded towards the wood which they saw before them.\n\nAnd the heat of the sun was very great, and through the blood and sweat,\nGeraint's armour cleaved to his flesh; and when they came into the wood,\nhe stood under a tree, to avoid the sun's heat; and his wounds pained him\nmore than they had done at the time when he received them.  And the\nmaiden stood under another tree.  And, lo! they heard the sound of horns,\nand a tumultuous noise, and the occasion of it was, that Arthur and his\ncompany had come down to the wood.  And while Geraint was considering\nwhich way he should go to avoid them, behold, he was espied by a foot\npage, who was an attendant on the Steward of the Household, and he went\nto the steward, and told him what kind of man he had seen in the wood.\nThen the steward caused his horse to be saddled, and he took his lance\nand his shield, and went to the place where Geraint was.  \"Ah, knight!\"\nsaid he, \"what dost thou here?\"  \"I am standing under a shady tree, to\navoid the heat and the rays of the sun.\"  \"Wherefore is thy journey, and\nwho art thou?\"  \"I seek adventures, and go where I list.\"  \"Indeed,\" said\nKai, \"then come with me to see Arthur, who is here hard by.\"  \"That will\nI not, by Heaven,\" said Geraint.  \"Thou must needs come,\" said Kai.  Then\nGeraint knew who he was, but Kai did not know Geraint.  And Kai attacked\nGeraint as best as he could.  And Geraint became wroth, and he struck him\nwith the shaft of his lance, so that he rolled headlong to the ground.\nBut chastisement worse than this would he not inflict on him.\n\nScared and wildly Kai arose, and he mounted his horse, and went back to\nhis lodging.  And thence he proceeded to Gwalchmai's tent.  \"Oh, Sir,\"\nsaid he to Gwalchmai, \"I was told by one of the attendants, that he saw\nin the wood above a wounded knight, having on battered armour, and if\nthou dost right, thou wilt go and see if this be true.\"  \"I care not if I\ndo so,\" said Gwalchmai.  \"Take, then, thy horse, and some of thy armour,\"\nsaid Kai, \"for I hear that he is not over-courteous to those who approach\nhim.\"  So Gwalchmai took his spear and his shield, and mounted his horse,\nand came to the spot where Geraint was.  \"Sir Knight,\" said he,\n\"wherefore is thy journey?\"  \"I journey for my own pleasure, and to seek\nthe adventures of the world.\"  \"Wilt thou tell me who thou art, or wilt\nthou come and visit Arthur, who is near at hand?\"  \"I will make no\nalliance with thee, nor will I go and visit Arthur,\" said he.  And he\nknew that it was Gwalchmai, but Gwalchmai knew him not.  \"I purpose not\nto leave thee,\" said Gwalchmai, \"till I know who thou art.\"  And he\ncharged him with his lance, and struck him on his shield, so that the\nshaft was shivered into splinters, and their horses were front to front.\nThen Gwalchmai gazed fixedly upon him, and he knew him.  \"Ah, Geraint,\"\nsaid he, \"is it thou that art here?\"  \"I am not Geraint,\" said he.\n\"Geraint thou art, by Heaven,\" he replied, \"and a wretched and insane\nexpedition is this.\"  Then he looked around, and beheld Enid, and he\nwelcomed her gladly.  \"Geraint,\" said Gwalchmai, \"come thou, and see\nArthur; he is thy lord and thy cousin.\"  \"I will not,\" said he, \"for I am\nnot in a fit state to go and see any one.\"  Thereupon, behold, one of the\npages came after Gwalchmai, to speak to him.  So he sent him to apprise\nArthur that Geraint was there wounded, and that he would not go to visit\nhim, and that it was pitiable to see the plight that he was in.  And this\nhe did without Geraint's knowledge, inasmuch as he spoke in a whisper to\nthe page.  \"Entreat Arthur,\" said he, \"to have his tent brought near to\nthe road, for he will not meet him willingly, and it is not easy to\ncompel him in the mood he is in.\"  So the page came to Arthur, and told\nhim this.  And he caused his tent to be removed unto the side of the\nroad.  And the maiden rejoiced in her heart.  And Gwalchmai led Geraint\nonwards along the road, till they came to the place where Arthur was\nencamped, and the pages were pitching his tent by the road-side.  \"Lord,\"\nsaid Geraint, \"all hail unto thee.\"  \"Heaven prosper thee; and who art\nthou?\" said Arthur.  \"It is Geraint,\" said Gwalchmai, \"and of his own\nfree will would he not come to meet thee.\"  \"Verily,\" said Arthur, \"he is\nbereft of his reason.\"  Then came Enid, and saluted Arthur.  \"Heaven\nprotect thee,\" said he.  And thereupon he caused one of the pages to take\nher from her horse.  \"Alas!  Enid,\" said Arthur, \"what expedition is\nthis?\"  \"I know not, Lord,\" said she, \"save that it behoves me to journey\nby the same road that he journeys.\"  \"My Lord,\" said Geraint, \"with thy\npermission we will depart.\"  \"Whither wilt thou go?\" said Arthur.  \"Thou\ncanst not proceed now, unless it be unto thy death.\" {53}  \"He will not\nsuffer himself to be invited by me,\" said Gwalchmai.  \"But by me he\nwill,\" said Arthur; \"and, moreover, he does not go from here until he is\nhealed.\"  \"I had rather, Lord,\" said Geraint, \"that thou wouldest let me\ngo forth.\"  \"That will I not, I declare to Heaven,\" said he.  Then he\ncaused a maiden to be sent for to conduct Enid to the tent where\nGwenhwyvar's chamber was.  And Gwenhwyvar and all her women were joyful\nat her coming, and they took off her riding dress, and placed other\ngarments upon her.  Arthur also called Kadyrieith, and ordered him to\npitch a tent for Geraint, and the physicians, and he enjoined him to\nprovide him with abundance of all that might be requisite for him.  And\nKadyrieith did as he had commanded him.  And Morgan Tud and his disciples\nwere brought to Geraint.\n\nAnd Arthur and his hosts remained there nearly a month, whilst Geraint\nwas being healed.  And when he was fully recovered, Geraint came to\nArthur, and asked his permission to depart.  \"I know not if thou art\nquite well.\"  \"In truth I am, Lord,\" said Geraint.  \"I shall not believe\nthee concerning that, but the physicians that were with thee.\"  So Arthur\ncaused the physicians to be summoned to him, and asked them if it were\ntrue.  \"It is true, Lord,\" said Morgan Tud.  So the next day Arthur\npermitted him to go forth, and he pursued his journey.  And on the same\nday Arthur removed thence.  And Geraint desired Enid to go on, and to\nkeep before him, as she had formerly done.  And she went forward along\nthe high road.  And as they journeyed thus, they heard an exceeding loud\nwailing near to them.  \"Stay thou here,\" said he, \"and I will go and see\nwhat is the cause of this wailing.\"  \"I will,\" said she.  Then he went\nforward into an open glade that was near the road.  And in the glade he\nsaw two horses, one having a man's saddle, and the other a woman's saddle\nupon it.  And, behold, there was a knight lying dead in his armour, and a\nyoung damsel in a riding dress standing over him, lamenting.  \"Ah! Lady,\"\nsaid Geraint, \"what hath befallen thee?\"  \"Behold,\" she answered, \"I\njourneyed here with my beloved husband, when, lo! three giants came upon\nus, and without any cause in the world, they slew him.\"  \"Which way went\nthey hence?\" said Geraint.  \"Yonder by the high road,\" she replied.  So\nhe returned to Enid.  \"Go,\" said he, \"to the lady that is below yonder,\nand await me there till I come.\"  She was sad when he ordered her to do\nthus, but nevertheless she went to the damsel, whom it was ruth to hear,\nand she felt certain that Geraint would never return.  Meanwhile Geraint\nfollowed the giants, and overtook them.  And each of them was greater of\nstature than three other men, and a huge club was on the shoulder of\neach.  Then he rushed upon one of them, and thrust his lance through his\nbody.  And having drawn it forth again, he pierced another of them\nthrough likewise.  But the third turned upon him, and struck him with his\nclub, so that he split his shield, and crushed his shoulder, and opened\nhis wounds anew, and all his blood began to flow from him.  But Geraint\ndrew his sword, and attacked the giant, and gave him a blow on the crown\nof his head so severe, and fierce, and violent, that his head and his\nneck were split down to his shoulders, and he fell dead.  So Geraint left\nhim thus, and returned to Enid.  And when he saw her, he fell down\nlifeless from his horse.  Piercing, and loud, and thrilling was the cry\nthat Enid uttered.  And she came and stood over him where he had fallen.\nAnd at the sound of her cries came the Earl of Limours, and the host that\njourneyed with him, whom her lamentations brought out of their road.  And\nthe Earl said to Enid, \"Alas, Lady, what hath befallen thee?\"  \"Ah! good\nSir,\" said she, \"the only man I have loved, or ever shall love, is\nslain.\"  Then he said to the other, \"And what is the cause of thy grief?\"\n\"They have slain my beloved husband also,\" said she.  \"And who was it\nthat slew them?\"  \"Some giants,\" she answered, \"slew my best beloved, and\nthe other knight went in pursuit of them, and came back in the state thou\nseest, his blood flowing excessively; but it appears to me that he did\nnot leave the giants without killing some of them, if not all.\"  The Earl\ncaused the knight that was dead to be buried, but he thought that there\nstill remained some life in Geraint; and to see if he yet would live, he\nhad him carried with him in the hollow of his shield, and upon a bier.\nAnd the two damsels went to the court; and when they arrived there,\nGeraint was placed upon a litter-couch in front of the table that was in\nthe hall.  Then they all took off their travelling gear, and the Earl\nbesought Enid to do the same, and to clothe herself in other garments.  \"I\nwill not, by Heaven,\" said she.  \"Ah!  Lady,\" said he, \"be not so\nsorrowful for this matter.\"  \"It were hard to persuade me to be\notherwise,\" said she.  \"I will act towards thee in such wise, that thou\nneedest not be sorrowful, whether yonder knight live or die.  Behold, a\ngood Earldom, together with myself, will I bestow on thee; be, therefore,\nhappy and joyful.\"  \"I declare to Heaven,\" said she, \"that henceforth I\nshall never be joyful while I live.\"  \"Come, then,\" said he, \"and eat.\"\n\"No, by Heaven, I will not,\" she answered.  \"But by Heaven thou shalt,\"\nsaid he.  So he took her with him to the table against her will, and many\ntimes desired her to eat.  \"I call Heaven to witness,\" said she, \"that I\nwill not eat until the man that is upon yonder bier shall eat likewise.\"\n\"Thou canst not fulfil that,\" said the Earl, \"yonder man is dead\nalready.\"  \"I will prove that I can,\" said she.  Then he offered her a\ngoblet of liquor.  \"Drink this goblet,\" he said, \"and it will cause thee\nto change thy mind.\"  \"Evil betide me,\" she answered, \"if I drink aught\nuntil he drink also.\"  \"Truly,\" said the Earl, \"it is of no more avail\nfor me to be gentle with thee than ungentle.\"  And he gave her a box in\nthe ear.  Thereupon she raised a loud and piercing shriek, and her\nlamentations were much greater than they had been before, for she\nconsidered in her mind that had Geraint been alive, he durst not have\nstruck her thus.  But, behold, at the sound of her cry Geraint revived\nfrom his swoon, and he sat up on the bier, and finding his sword in the\nhollow of his shield, he rushed to the place where the Earl was, and\nstruck him a fiercely-wounding, severely-venomous, and sternly-smiting\nblow upon the crown of his head, so that he clove him in twain, until his\nsword was stayed by the table.  Then all left the board and fled away.\nAnd this was not so much through fear of the living as through the dread\nthey felt at seeing the dead man rise up to slay them.  And Geraint\nlooked upon Enid, and he was grieved for two causes; one was, to see that\nEnid had lost her colour and her wonted aspect; and the other, to know\nthat she was in the right.  \"Lady,\" said he, \"knowest thou where our\nhorses are?\"  \"I know, Lord, where thy horse is,\" she replied, \"but I\nknow not where is the other.  Thy horse is in the house yonder.\"  So he\nwent to the house, and brought forth his horse, and mounted him, and took\nup Enid from the ground, and placed her upon the horse with him.  And he\nrode forward.  And their road lay between two hedges.  And the night was\ngaining on the day.  And, lo! they saw behind them the shafts of spears\nbetwixt them and the sky, and they heard the trampling of horses, and the\nnoise of a host approaching.  \"I hear something following us,\" said he,\n\"and I will put thee on the other side of the hedge.\"  And thus he did.\nAnd thereupon, behold, a knight pricked towards him, and couched his\nlance.  When Enid saw this, she cried out, saying, \"Oh! chieftain,\nwhoever thou art, what renown wilt thou gain by slaying a dead man?\"  \"Oh!\nHeaven,\" said he, \"is it Geraint?\"  \"Yes, in truth,\" said she.  \"And who\nart thou?\"  \"I am the Little King,\" he answered, \"coming to thy\nassistance, for I heard that thou wast in trouble.  And if thou hadst\nfollowed my advice, none of these hardships would have befallen thee.\"\n\"Nothing can happen,\" said Geraint, \"without the will of Heaven, though\nmuch good results from counsel.\"  \"Yes,\" said the Little King, \"and I\nknow good counsel for thee now.  Come with me to the court of a son-in-\nlaw of my sister, which is near here, and thou shalt have the best\nmedical assistance in the kingdom.\"  \"I will do so, gladly,\" said\nGeraint.  And Enid was placed upon the horse of one of the Little King's\nsquires, and they went forward to the Baron's palace.  And they were\nreceived there with gladness, and they met with hospitality and\nattention.  And the next morning they went to seek physicians; and it was\nnot long before they came, and they attended Geraint until he was\nperfectly well.  And while Geraint was under medical care, the Little\nKing caused his armour to be repaired, until it was as good as it had\never been.  And they remained there a fortnight and a month.\n\nThen the Little King said to Geraint, \"Now will we go towards my own\nCourt, to take rest and amuse ourselves.\"  \"Not so,\" said Geraint, \"we\nwill first journey for one day more, and return again.\"  \"With all my\nheart,\" said the Little King, \"do thou go then.\"  And early in the day\nthey set forth.  And more gladly and more joyfully did Enid journey with\nthem that day than she had ever done.  And they came to the main road.\nAnd when they reached a place where the road divided in two, they beheld\na man on foot coming towards them along one of these roads, and Gwiffert\nasked the man whence he came.  \"I come,\" said he, \"from an errand in the\ncountry.\"  \"Tell me,\" said Geraint, \"which is the best for me to follow\nof these two roads?\"  \"That is the best for thee to follow,\" answered he,\n\"for if thou goest by this one, thou wilt never return.  Below us,\" said\nhe, \"there is a hedge of mist, and within it are enchanted games, and no\none who has gone there has ever returned.  And the Court of the Earl\nOwain is there, and he permits no one to go to lodge in the town except\nhe will go to his Court.\"  \"I declare to Heaven,\" said Geraint, \"that we\nwill take the lower road.\"  And they went along it until they came to the\ntown.  And they took the fairest and pleasantest place in the town for\ntheir lodging.  And while they were thus, behold, a young man came to\nthem, and greeted them.  \"Heaven be propitious to thee,\" said they.  \"Good\nSirs,\" said he, \"what preparations are you making here?\"  \"We are taking\nup our lodging,\" said they, \"to pass the night.\"  \"It is not the custom\nwith him who owns the town,\" he answered, \"to permit any of gentle birth,\nunless they come to stay in his Court, to abide here; therefore, come you\nto the Court.\"  \"We will come, gladly,\" said Geraint.  And they went with\nthe page, and they were joyfully received.  And the Earl came to the hall\nto meet them, and he commanded the tables to be laid.  And they washed,\nand sat down.  And this is the order in which they sat, Geraint on one\nside of the Earl, and Enid on the other side, and next to Enid the Little\nKing, and then the Countess next to Geraint, and all after that as became\ntheir rank.  Then Geraint recollected the games, and thought that he\nshould not go to them; and on that account he did not eat.  Then the Earl\nlooked upon Geraint, and considered, and he bethought him that his not\neating was because of the games, and it grieved him that he had ever\nestablished those games, were it only on account of losing such a youth\nas Geraint.  And if Geraint had asked him to abolish the games, he would\ngladly have done so.  Then the Earl said to Geraint, \"What thought\noccupies thy mind, that thou dost not eat?  If thou hesitatest about\ngoing to the games, thou shall not go, and no other of thy rank shall\never go either.\"  \"Heaven reward thee,\" said Geraint, \"but I wish nothing\nbetter than to go to the games, and to be shown the way thither.\"  \"If\nthat is what thou dost prefer, thou shalt obtain it willingly.\"  \"I do\nprefer it, indeed,\" said he.  Then they ate, and they were amply served,\nand they had a variety of gifts, and abundance of liquor.  And when they\nhad finished eating, they arose.  And Geraint called for his horse and\nhis armour, and he accoutred both himself and his horse.  And all the\nhosts went forth until they came to the side of the hedge, and the hedge\nwas so lofty, that it reached as high as they could see in the air, and\nupon every stake in the hedge, except two, there was the head of a man,\nand the number of stakes throughout the hedge was very great.  Then said\nthe Little King, \"May no one go in with the chieftain?\"  \"No one may,\"\nsaid Earl Owain.  \"Which way can I enter?\" enquired Geraint.  \"I know\nnot,\" said Owain, \"but enter by the way that thou wilt, and that seemeth\neasiest to thee.\"\n\nThen fearlessly and unhesitatingly Geraint dashed forward into the mist.\nAnd on leaving the mist he came to a large orchard, and in the orchard he\nsaw an open space, wherein was a tent of red satin, and the door of the\ntent was open, and an apple-tree stood in front of the door of the tent,\nand on a branch of the apple-tree hung a huge hunting horn.  Then he\ndismounted, and went into the tent, and there was no one in the tent save\none maiden sitting in a golden chair, and another chair was opposite to\nher, empty.  And Geraint went to the empty chair, and sat down therein.\n\"Ah! chieftain,\" said the maiden, \"I would not counsel thee to sit in\nthat chair.\"  \"Wherefore?\" said Geraint.  \"The man to whom that chair\nbelongs has never suffered another to sit in it.\"  \"I care not,\" said\nGeraint, \"though it displease him that I sit in the chair.\"  And\nthereupon they heard a mighty tumult around the tent.  And Geraint looked\nto see what was the cause of the tumult.  And he beheld without a knight\nmounted upon a war-horse, proudly-snorting, high-mettled, and large of\nbone, and a robe of honour in two parts was upon him and upon his horse,\nand beneath it was plenty of armour.  \"Tell me, chieftain,\" said he to\nGeraint, \"who it was that bade thee sit there?\"  \"Myself,\" answered he.\n\"It was wrong of thee to do me this shame and disgrace.  Arise, and do me\nsatisfaction for thine insolence.\"  Then Geraint arose, and they\nencountered immediately, and they broke a set of lances; and a second\nset; and a third; and they gave each other fierce and frequent strokes;\nand at last Geraint became enraged, and he urged on his horse, and rushed\nupon him, and gave him a thrust on the centre of his shield, so that it\nwas split, and so that the head of his lance went through his armour, and\nhis girths were broken, and he himself was borne headlong to the ground\nthe length of Geraint's lance and arm, over his horse's crupper.  \"Oh, my\nLord!\" said he, \"thy mercy, and thou shalt have what thou wilt.\"  \"I only\ndesire,\" said Geraint, \"that this game shall no longer exist here, nor\nthe hedge of mist, nor magic, nor enchantment.\"  \"Thou shalt have this\ngladly, Lord,\" he replied.  \"Cause then the mist to disappear from this\nplace,\" said Geraint.  \"Sound yonder horn,\" said he, \"and when thou\nsoundest it, the mist will vanish; but it will not go hence unless the\nhorn be blown by the knight by whom I am vanquished.\"  And sad and\nsorrowful was Enid where she remained, through anxiety concerning\nGeraint.  Then Geraint went and sounded the horn.  And at the first blast\nhe gave, the mist vanished.  And all the hosts came together, and they\nall became reconciled to each other.  And the Earl invited Geraint and\nthe Little King to stay with him that night.  And the next morning they\nseparated.  And Geraint went towards his own dominions; and thenceforth\nhe reigned prosperously, and his warlike fame and splendour lasted with\nrenown and honour both to him and to Enid from that time forward.\n\n{Picture: p62.jpg}\n\n\n\n\nKILHWCH AND OLWEN\nOR THE\nTWRCH TRWYTH\n\n\n{Picture: p63.jpg}\n\nKilydd, the son of Prince Kelyddon desired a wife as a helpmate, and the\nwife that he chose was Goleuddydd, the daughter of Prince Anlawdd.  And\nafter their union the people put up prayers that they might have an heir.\nAnd they had a son through the prayers of the people.  From the time of\nher pregnancy Goleuddydd became wild, and wandered about, without\nhabitation; but when her delivery was at hand, her reason came back to\nher.  Then she went to a mountain where there was a swineherd, keeping a\nherd of swine.  And through fear of the swine the queen was delivered.\nAnd the swineherd took the boy, and brought him to the palace; and he was\nchristened, and they called him Kilhwch, because he had been found in a\nswine's burrow.  Nevertheless the boy was of gentle lineage, and cousin\nunto Arthur; and they put him out to nurse.\n\nAfter this the boy's mother, Goleuddydd, the daughter of Prince Anlawdd,\nfell sick.  Then she called her husband unto her, and said to him, \"Of\nthis sickness I shall die, and thou wilt take another wife.  Now wives\nare the gift of the Lord, but it would be wrong for thee to harm thy son.\nTherefore I charge thee that thou take not a wife until thou see a briar\nwith two blossoms upon my grave.\"  And this he promised her.  Then she\nbesought him to dress her grave every year, that nothing might grow\nthereon. {64}  So the queen died.  Now the king sent an attendant every\nmorning to see if anything were growing upon the grave.  And at the end\nof the seventh year the master neglected that which he had promised to\nthe queen.\n\nOne day the king went to hunt, and he rode to the place of burial, to see\nthe grave, and to know if it were time that he should take a wife; and\nthe king saw the briar.  And when he saw it, the king took counsel where\nhe should find a wife.  Said one of his counsellors, \"I know a wife that\nwill suit thee well, and she is the wife of King Doged.\"  And they\nresolved to go to seek her; and they slew the king, and brought away his\nwife and one daughter that she had along with her.  And they conquered\nthe king's lands.\n\nOn a certain day as the lady walked abroad, she came to the house of an\nold crone that dwelt in the town, and that had no tooth in her head.  And\nthe queen said to her, \"Old woman, tell me that which I shall ask thee,\nfor the love of Heaven.  Where are the children of the man who has\ncarried me away by violence?\"  Said the crone, \"He has not children.\"\nSaid the queen, \"Woe is me, that I should have come to one who is\nchildless!\"  Then said the hag, \"Thou needest not lament on account of\nthat, for there is a prediction that he shall have an heir by thee, and\nby none other.  Moreover, be not sorrowful, for he has one son.\"\n\nThe lady returned home with joy, and she asked her consort, \"Wherefore\nhast thou concealed thy children from me?\"  The king said, \"I will do so\nno longer.\"  And he sent messengers for his son, and he was brought to\nthe Court.  His stepmother said unto him, \"It were well for thee to have\na wife, and I have a daughter who is sought of every man of renown in the\nworld.\"  \"I am not yet of an age to wed,\" answered the youth.  Then said\nshe unto him, \"I declare to thee, that it is thy destiny not to be suited\nwith a wife until thou obtain Olwen, the daughter of Yspaddaden Penkawr.\"\nAnd the youth blushed, and the love of the maiden diffused itself through\nall his frame, although he had never seen her.  And his father enquired\nof him, \"What has come over thee, my son, and what aileth thee?\"  \"My\nstepmother has declared to me, that I shall never have a wife until I\nobtain Olwen, the daughter of Yspaddaden Penkawr.\"  \"That will be easy\nfor thee,\" answered his father.  \"Arthur is thy cousin.  Go, therefore,\nunto Arthur, to cut thy hair, and ask this of him as a boon.\"\n\n{Picture: p66.jpg}\n\nAnd the youth pricked forth upon a steed with head dappled grey, of four\nwinters old, firm of limb, with shell-formed hoofs, having a bridle of\nlinked gold on his head, and upon him a saddle of costly gold.  And in\nthe youth's hand were two spears of silver, sharp, well-tempered, headed\nwith steel, three ells in length, of an edge to wound the wind, and cause\nblood to flow, and swifter than the fall {66} of the dew-drop from the\nblade of reed grass upon the earth, when the dew of June is at the\nheaviest.  A gold-hilted sword was upon his thigh, the blade of which was\nof gold, bearing a cross of inlaid gold of the hue of the lightning of\nheaven: his war-horn was of ivory.  Before him were two brindled white-\nbreasted greyhounds, having strong collars of rubies about their necks,\nreaching from the shoulder to the ear.  And the one that was on the left\nside bounded across to the right side, and the one on the right to the\nleft, and like two sea swallows sported around him.  And his courser cast\nup four sods with his four hoofs, like four swallows in the air, about\nhis head, now above, now below.  About him was a four-cornered cloth of\npurple, and an apple of gold was at each corner; and every one of the\napples was of the value of an hundred kine.  And there was precious gold\nof the value of three hundred kine upon his shoes, and upon his stirrups,\nfrom his knee to the tip of his toe.  And the blade of grass bent not\nbeneath him, so light was his courser's tread as he journeyed towards the\ngate of Arthur's palace.\n\nSpoke the youth, \"Is there a porter?\"  \"There is; and if thou holdest not\nthy peace, small will be thy welcome. {67}  I am Arthur's porter every\nfirst day of January.  And during every other part of the year but this\nthe office is filled by Huandaw, and Gogigwc, and Llaeskenym, and\nPennpingyon, who goes upon his head to save his feet, neither towards the\nsky nor towards the earth, but like a rolling stone upon the floor of the\nCourt.\"  \"Open the portal.\"  \"I will not open it.\"  \"Wherefore not?\"  \"The\nknife is in the meat, and the drink is in the horn, and there is revelry\nin Arthur's hall, and none may enter therein but the son of a king of a\nprivileged country, or a craftsman bringing his craft.  But there will be\nrefreshment for thy dogs, and for thy horses; and for thee there will be\ncollops cooked and peppered, and luscious wine and mirthful songs, and\nfood for fifty men shall be brought unto thee in the guest chamber, where\nthe stranger and the sons of other countries eat, who come not unto the\nprecincts of the Palace of Arthur.  Thou wilt fare no worse there than\nthou wouldest with Arthur in the Court.  A lady shall smooth thy couch,\nand shall lull thee with songs; and early to-morrow morning, when the\ngate is open for the multitude that came hither to-day, for thee shall it\nbe opened first, and thou mayest sit in the place that thou shall choose\nin Arthur's Hall, from the upper end to the lower.\"  Said the youth,\n\"That will I not do.  If thou openest the gate, it is well.  If thou dost\nnot open it, I will bring disgrace upon thy Lord, and evil report upon\nthee.  And I will set up three shouts at this very gate, than which none\nwere ever more deadly, from the top of Pengwaed in Cornwall to the bottom\nof Dinsol, in the North, and to Esgair Oervel, in Ireland.  And all the\nwomen in this Palace that are pregnant shall lose their offspring; and\nsuch as are not pregnant, their hearts shall be turned by illness, so\nthat they shall never bear children from this day forward.\"  \"What\nclamour soever thou mayest make,\" said Glewlwyd Gavaelvawr, \"against the\nlaws of Arthur's Palace, shalt thou not enter therein, until I first go\nand speak with Arthur.\"  Then Glewlwyd went into the Hall.  And Arthur\nsaid to him, \"Hast thou news from the gate?\"--\"Half of my life is past,\nand half of thine.  I was heretofore in Kaer Se and Asse, in Sach and\nSalach, in Lotor and Fotor; and I have been heretofore in India the Great\nand India the Lesser; and I was in the battle of Dau Ynyr, when the\ntwelve hostages were brought from Llychlyn.  And I have also been in\nEurope, and in Africa, and in the Islands of Corsica, and in Caer\nBrythwch, and Brythach, and Verthach; and I was present when formerly\nthou didst slay the family of Clis the son of Merin, and when thou didst\nslay Mil Du, the son of Ducum, and when thou didst conquer Greece in the\nEast.  And I have been in Caer Oeth and Annoeth, and in Caer Nevenhyr;\nnine supreme sovereigns, handsome men, saw we there, but never did I\nbehold a man of equal dignity with him who is now at the door of the\nportal.\"  Then said Arthur, \"If walking thou didst enter in here, return\nthou running.  And every one that beholds the light, and every one that\nopens and shuts the eye, let him show him respect, and serve him, some\nwith gold-mounted drinking horns, others with collops cooked and\npeppered, until food and drink can be prepared for him.  It is unbecoming\nto keep such a man as thou sayest he is in the wind and the rain.\"  Said\nKai, \"By the hand of my friend, if thou wouldest follow my counsel, thou\nwouldest not break through the laws of the Court because of him.\"  \"Not\nso, blessed Kai, it is an honour to us to be resorted to, and the greater\nour courtesy, the greater will be our renown, and our fame, and our\nglory.\"\n\nAnd Glewlwyd came to the gate, and opened the gate before him; and\nalthough all dismounted upon the horse-block at the gate, yet did he not\ndismount, but he rode in upon his charger.  Then said Kilhwch, \"Greeting\nbe unto thee, Sovereign Ruler of this Island; and be this greeting no\nless unto the lowest than unto the highest, and be it equally unto thy\nguests, and thy warriors, and thy chieftains--let all partake of it as\ncompletely as thyself.  And complete be thy favour, and thy fame, and thy\nglory, throughout all this Island.\"  \"Greeting unto thee also,\" said\nArthur, \"sit thou between two of my warriors, and thou shalt have\nminstrels before thee, and thou shalt enjoy the privileges of a king born\nto a throne, as long as thou remainest here.  And when I dispense my\npresents to the visitors and strangers in this Court, they shall be in\nthy hand at my commencing.\"  Said the youth, \"I came not here to consume\nmeat and drink; but if I obtain the boon that I seek, I will requite it\nthee, and extol thee; and if I have it not, I will bear forth thy\ndispraise to the four quarters of the world, as far as thy renown has\nextended.\"  Then said Arthur, \"Since thou wilt not remain here,\nchieftain, thou shalt receive the boon whatsoever thy tongue may name, as\nfar as the wind dries and the rain moistens, and the sun revolves, and\nthe sea encircles, and the earth extends; save only my ship; and my\nmantle; and Caledvwlch, my sword, and Rhongomyant, my lance; and\nWynebgwrthucher, my shield; and Carnwenhau, {70a} my dagger; and\nGwenhwyvar, my wife.  By the truth of Heaven, thou shalt have it\ncheerfully, name what thou wilt.\"  \"I would that thou bless {70b} my\nhair.\"  \"That shalt be granted thee.\"\n\nAnd Arthur took a golden comb, and scissors, whereof the loops were of\nsilver, and he combed his hair.  And Arthur enquired of him who he was.\n\"For my heart warms unto thee, and I know that thou art come of my blood.\nTell me, therefore, who thou art.\"  \"I will tell thee,\" said the youth,\n\"I am Kilhwch, the son of Kilydd, the son of Prince Kelyddon, by\nGoleuddydd, my mother, the daughter of Prince Anlawdd.\"  \"That is true,\"\nsaid Arthur.  \"Thou art my cousin.  Whatsoever boon thou mayest ask, thou\nshalt receive, be it what it may that thy tongue shall name.\"  \"Pledge\nthe truth of Heaven and the faith of thy kingdom thereof.\"  \"I pledge it\nthee, gladly.\"  \"I crave of thee then, that thou obtain for me Olwen, the\ndaughter of Yspaddaden Penkawr, and this boon I likewise seek at the\nhands of thy warriors.  I seek it from Kai, and Bedwyr, and Greidawl\nGalldonyd, {71a} and Gwythyr the son of Greidawl, and Greid the son of\nEri, and Kynddelig Kyvarwydd, and Tathal Twyll Goleu, and Maelwys the son\nof Baeddan, and Crychwr {71b} the son of Nes, and Cubert the son of\nDaere, and Percos the son of Poch, and Lluber Beuthach, and Corvil\nBervach, and Gwynn the son of Nudd, and Edeyrn the son of Nudd, and Gadwy\n{71c} the son of Geraint, and Prince Fflewddur Fflam, and Ruawn Pebyr the\nson of Dorath, and Bradwen the son of Moren Mynawc, and Moren Mynawc\nhimself, and Dalldav the son of Kimin Cov, and the son of Alun Dyved, and\nthe son of Saidi, and the son of Gwryon, and Uchtryd Ardywad Kad, and\nKynwas Curvagyl, and Gwrhyr Gwarthegvras, and Isperyr Ewingath, and\nGallcoyt Govynynat, and Duach, and Grathach, and Nerthach, the sons of\nGwawrddur Kyrvach, (these men came forth from the confines of Hell), and\nKilydd Canhastyr, and Canastyr Kanllaw, and Cors Cant-Ewin, and Esgeir\nGulhwch Govynkawn, and Drustwrn Hayarn, and Glewlwyd Gavaelvawr, and\nLloch Llawwynnyawc, and Aunwas {71d} Adeiniawc, and Sinnoch the son of\nSeithved, and Gwennwynwyn the son of Naw, and Bedyw the son of Seithved,\nand Gobrwy the son of Echel Vorddwyttwll, and Echel Vorddwyttwll himself,\nand Mael the son of Roycol, and Dadweir Dallpenn, and Garwyli the son of\nGwythawc Gwyr, and Gwythawc Gwyr himself, and Gormant the son of Ricca,\nand Menw the son of Teirgwaedd, and Digon the son of Alar, and Selyf the\nson of Smoit, {71e} and Gusg the son of Atheu, and Nerth the son of\nKedarn, and Drudwas the son of Tryffin, and Twrch the son of Perif, and\nTwrch the son of Annwas, and Iona king of France, and Sel the son of\nSelgi, and Teregud the son of Iaen, and Sulyen the son of Iaen, and\nBradwen the son of Iaen, and Moren the son of Iaen, and Siawn the son of\nIaen, and Cradawc the son of Iaen.  (They were men of Caerdathal, of\nArthur's kindred on his father's side.)  Dirmyg the son of Kaw, and\nJustic the son of Kaw, and Etmic the son of Kaw, and Anghawd the son of\nKaw, and Ovan the son of Kaw, and Kelin the son of Kaw, and Connyn the\nson of Kaw, and Mabsant the son of Kaw, and Gwyngad the son of Kaw, and\nLlwybyr the son of Kaw, and Coth the son of Kaw, and Meilic the son of\nKaw, and Kynwas the son of Kaw, and Ardwyad the son of Kaw, and Ergyryad\nthe son of Kaw, and Neb the son of Kaw, and Gilda the son of Kaw, and\nCalcas the son of Kaw, and Hueil the son of Kaw, (he never yet made a\nrequest at the hand of any Lord).  And Samson Vinsych, and Taliesin the\nchief of the bards, and Mamawyddan the son of Llyr, and Llary the son of\nPrince Kasnar, and Ysperni {72a} the son of Fflergant king of Armorica,\nand Saranhon the son of Glythwyr, and Llawr Eilerw, and Annyanniawc the\nson of Menw the son of Teirgwaedd, and Gwynn the son of Nwyvre, and Fflam\nthe son of Nwyvre, and Geraint the son of Erbin, and Ermid {72b} the son\nof Erbin, and Dyvel the son of Erbin, and Gwynn the son of Ermid, and\nKyndrwyn the son of Ermid, and Hyveidd Unllenn, and Eiddon Vawr Vrydic,\nand Reidwn Arwy, and Gormant the son of Ricca (Arthur's brother by his\nmother's side; the Penhynev of Cornwall was his father), and Llawnrodded\nVarvawc, and Nodawl Varyf Twrch, and Berth the son of Kado, and Rheidwn\nthe son of Beli, and Iscovan Hael, and Iscawin the son of Panon, and\nMorvran the son of Tegid (no one struck him in the battle of Camlan by\nreason of his ugliness; all thought he was an auxiliary devil.  Hair had\nhe upon him like the hair of a stag).  And Sandde Bryd Angel (no one\ntouched him with a spear in the battle of Camlan because of his beauty;\nall thought he was a ministering angel).  And Kynwyl Sant, the third man\nthat escaped from the battle of Camlan, (and he was the last who parted\nfrom Arthur on Hengroen his horse).  And Uchtryd the son of Erim, and Eus\nthe son of Erim, and Henwas Adeinawg the son of Erim, and Henbedestyr the\nson of Erim, and Sgilti Yscawndroed son of Erim.  (Unto these three men\nbelonged these three qualities,--with Henbedestyr there was not any one\nwho could keep pace, either on horseback or on foot; with Henwas\nAdeinawg, no four-footed beast could run the distance of an acre, much\nless could it go beyond it; and as to Sgilti Yscawndroed, when he\nintended to go upon a message for his Lord, he never sought to find a\npath, but knowing whither he was to go, if his way lay through a wood he\nwent along the tops of the trees.  During his whole life, a blade of reed\ngrass bent not beneath his feet, much less did one ever break, so lightly\ndid he tread.)  Teithi Hen the son of Gwynhan, (his dominions were\nswallowed up by the sea and he himself hardly escaped, and he came to\nArthur; and his knife had this peculiarity, that from the time that he\ncame there, no haft would ever remain upon it, and owing to this a\nsickness came over him, and he pined away during the remainder of his\nlife, and of this he died).  And Carneddyr the son of Govynyon Hen, and\nGwenwynwyn the son of Nav Gyssevin, Arthur's champion, and Llysgadrudd\nEmys, and Gwrbothu Hen, (uncles unto Arthur were they, his mother's\nbrothers).  Kulvanawyd the son of Goryon, and Llenlleawg {74a} Wyddel\nfrom the headland of Ganion, and Dyvynwal Moel, and Dunard king of the\nNorth, Teirnon Twryf Bliant, and Tegvan Gloff, and Tegyr Talgellawg,\nGwrdinal {74b} the son of Ebrei, and Morgant Hael, Gwystyl the son of\nRhun the son of Nwython, and Llwyddeu, the son of Nwython, and Gwydre the\nson of Llwyddeu, (Gwenabwy the daughter of [Kaw] was his mother, Hueil\nhis uncle stabbed him, and hatred was between Hueil and Arthur because of\nthe wound).  Drem the son of Dremidyd, (when the gnat arose in the\nmorning with the sun, he could see it from Gelli Wic in Cornwall, as far\noff as Pen Blathaon in North Britain).  And Eidyol the son of Ner, and\nGlwyddyn Saer, (who constructed Ehangwen, Arthur's Hall).  Kynyr\nKeinvarvawc, (when he was told he had a son born, {74c} he said to his\nwife, 'Damsel, if thy son be mine, his heart will be always cold, and\nthere will be no warmth in his hands; and he will have another\npeculiarity, if he is my son he will always be stubborn; and he will have\nanother peculiarity, when he carries a burden, whether it be large or\nsmall, no one will be able to see it, either before him or at his back;\nand he will have another peculiarity, no one will be able to resist water\nand fire so well as he will; and he will have another peculiarity, there\nwill never be a servant or an officer equal to him').  Henwas, and\nHenwyneb, (an old companion to Arthur).  Gwallgoyc, (another; when he\ncame to a town, though there were three hundred houses in it, if he\nwanted any thing, he would not let sleep come to the eyes of any one\nwhilst he remained there).  Berwyn the son of Gerenhir, and Paris king of\nFrance, {75a} and Osla Gyllellvawr, (who bore a short broad dagger.  When\nArthur and his hosts came before a torrent, they would seek for a narrow\nplace where they might pass the water, and would lay the sheathed dagger\nacross the torrent, and it would form a bridge sufficient for the armies\nof the three Islands of Britain, and of the three Islands adjacent, with\ntheir spoil).  Gwyddawg the son of Menestyr, (who slew Kai, and whom\nArthur slew together with his brothers, to revenge Kai).  Garanwyn the\nson of Kai, and Amren the son of Bedwyr, and Ely Amyr, and Rheu Rhwyd\nDyrys, and Rhun Rhudwern, and Eli, and Trachmyr, (Arthur's chief\nhuntsmen).  And Llwyddeu the son of Kelcoed, and Hunabwy the son of\nGwryon, and Gwynn Godyvron, and Gweir Datharwenniddawg, and Gweir the son\nof Cadell the son of Talaryant, {75b} and Gweir Gwrhyd Ennwir, and Gweir\nPaladyr Hir, (the uncles of Arthur, the brothers of his mother).  The\nsons of Llwch Llawwynnyawg, (from beyond the raging sea).  Llenlleawg\nWyddel, and Ardderchawg Prydain.  Cas the son of Saidi, Gwrvan Gwallt\nAvwyn, and Gwyllennhin the king of France, and Gwittart the son of Oedd\nking of Ireland, Garselit Wyddel, Panawr Pen Bagad, and Ffleudor the son\nof Nav, Gwynnhyvar mayor of Cornwall and Devon, (the ninth man that\nrallied the battle of Camlan).  Keli and Kueli, and Gilla Coes Hydd, (he\nwould clear three hundred acres at one bound.  The chief leaper of\nIreland was he).  Sol, and Gwadyn Ossol and Gwadyn Odyeith.  (Sol could\nstand all day upon one foot.  Gwadyn Ossol, if he stood upon the top of\nthe highest mountain in the world, it would become a level plain under\nhis feet.  Gwadyn Odyeith, the soles of his feet emitted sparks of fire\nwhen they struck upon things hard, like the heated mass when drawn out of\nthe forge.  He cleared the way for Arthur when he came to any stoppage.)\nHirerwm and Hiratrwm.  (The day they went on a visit three Cantrevs\nprovided for their entertainment, and they feasted until noon and drank\nuntil night, when they went to sleep.  And then they devoured the heads\nof the vermin through hunger, as if they had never eaten anything.  When\nthey made a visit, they left neither the fat nor the lean, neither the\nhot nor the cold, the sour nor the sweet, the fresh nor the salt, the\nboiled nor the raw.)  Huarwar the son of Aflawn, (who asked Arthur such a\nboon as would satisfy him.  It was the third great plague of Cornwall\nwhen he received it.  None could get a smile from him but when he was\nsatisfied).  Gware Gwallt Euryn.  The two cubs of Gast Rhymi, Gwyddrud\nand Gwyddneu Astrus.  Sugyn the son of Sugnedydd, (who would suck up the\nsea on which were three hundred ships, so as to leave nothing but a dry\nstrand.  He was broad-chested). {76a}  Rhacymwri, the attendant of\nArthur; (whatever barn he was shown, were there the produce of thirty\nploughs within it, he would strike it with an iron flail until the\nrafters, the beams, and the boards, were no better than the small oats in\nthe mow upon the floor of the barn).  Dygyflwng, and Anoeth Veidawg.  And\nHir Eiddyl, and Hir Amreu, (they were two attendants of Arthur).  And\nGwevyl the son of Gwestad, (on the day that he was sad, he would let one\nof his lips drop below his waist, while he turned up the other like a cap\nupon his head).  Uchtryd Varyf Draws, (who spread his red untrimmed beard\nover the eight-and-forty rafters which were in Arthur's Hall).  Elidyr\nGyvarwydd, Yskyrdav, and Yscudydd, (two attendants of Gwenhwyvar were\nthey.  Their feet were swift as their thoughts when bearing a message).\nBrys the son of Bryssethach, (from the Hill of the Black Fernbrake in\nNorth Britain).  And Grudlwyn Gorr.  Bwlch, and Kyfwlch, and Sefwlch, the\nsons of Cleddyf Kyfwlch, the grandsons of Cleddyf Difwlch.  (Their three\nshields were three gleaming glitterers; their three spears were three\npointed piercers; their three swords were three griding gashers; Glas,\nGlessic, and Gleisad.  Their three dogs, Call, Cuall, and Cavall.  Their\nthree horses, Hwyrdyddwd, and Drwgdyddwd, and Llwyrdyddwg. {77a}  Their\nthree wives, Och, and Garym, and Diaspad.  Their three grand-children,\nLluched, and Neved, and Eissiwed.  Their three daughters, Drwg, and\nGwaeth, and Gwaethav Oll.  Their three handmaids, Eheubryd the daughter\nof Kyfwlch, Gorascwrn the daughter of Nerth, Ewaedan the daughter of\nKynvelyn Keudawd Pwyll the half man.)  Dwnn Diessic Unbenn, Eiladyr the\nson of Pen Llarcau, Kynedyr Wyllt the son of Hettwn Talaryant, Sawyl, Ben\nUchel, Gwalchmai the son of Gwyar, Gwalhaved the son of Gwyar, Gwrhyr\nGwastawd Ieithoedd, (to whom all tongues were known,) and Kethcrwn {77b}\nthe Priest.  Clust the son of Clustveinad, (though he were buried seven\ncubits beneath the earth, he would hear the ant, fifty miles off, rise\nfrom her nest in the morning).  Medyr the son of Methredydd, (from Gelli\nWic he could, in a twinkling, shoot the wren through the two legs upon\nEsgeir Oervel in Ireland).  Gwiawn Llygad Cath, (who would cut a haw from\nthe eye of the gnat without hurting him).  Ol the son of Olwydd; (seven\nyears before he was born his father's swine were carried off, and when he\ngrew up a man, he tracked the swine, and brought them back in seven\nherds).  Bedwini the Bishop, (who blessed Arthur's meat and drink).  For\nthe sake of the golden-chained daughters of this island.  For the sake of\nGwenhwyvar, its chief lady, and Gwennhwyach her sister, and Rathtyeu the\nonly daughter of Clemenhill, and Rhelemon the daughter of Kai, and\nTannwen the daughter of Gweir Datharweniddawg. {78a}  Gwenn Alarch, the\ndaughter of Kynwyl Canbwch. {78b}  Eurneid the daughter of Clydno Eiddin.\nEneuawc the daughter of Bedwyr.  Enrydreg the daughter of Tudvathar.\nGwennwledyr the daughter of Gwaledyr Kyrvach.  Erddudnid the daughter of\nTryffin.  Eurolwen the daughter of Gwdolwyn Gorr.  Teleri the daughter of\nPeul.  Indeg the daughter of Garwy {78c} Hir.  Morvudd the daughter of\nUrien Rheged.  Gwenllian Deg the majestic maiden.  Creiddylad the\ndaughter of Llud Llaw Ereint.  (She was the most splendid maiden in the\nthree Islands of the mighty, and in the three Islands adjacent, and for\nher Gwythyr the son of Greidawl and Gwynn the son of Nudd fight every\nfirst of May until the day of doom.)  Ellylw the daughter of Neol Kynn-\nCrog.  (She lived three ages.)  Essyllt Vinwen, and Essyllt Vingul.\"  And\nall these did Kilhwch son of Kilydd adjure to obtain his boon.\n\nThen said Arthur, \"Oh! Chieftain, I have never heard of the maiden of\nwhom thou speakest, nor of her kindred, but I will gladly send messengers\nin search of her.  Give me time to seek her.\"  And the youth said, \"I\nwill willingly grant from this night to that at the end of the year to do\nso.\"  Then Arthur sent messengers to every land within his dominions, to\nseek for the maiden, and at the end of the year Arthur's messengers\nreturned without having gained any knowledge or intelligence concerning\nOlwen, more than on the first day.  Then said Kilhwch, \"Every one has\nreceived his boon, and I yet lack mine.  I will depart and bear away thy\nhonour with me.\"  Then said Kai, \"Rash chieftain! dost thou reproach\nArthur?  Go with us, and we will not part until thou dost either confess\nthat the maiden exists not in the world, or until we obtain her.\"\nThereupon Kai rose up.  Kai had this peculiarity, that his breath lasted\nnine nights and nine days under water, and he could exist nine nights and\nnine days without sleep.  A wound from Kai's sword no physician could\nheal.  Very subtle was Kai.  When it pleased him he could render himself\nas tall as the highest tree in the forest.  And he had another\npeculiarity,--so great was the heat of his nature, that when it rained\nhardest, whatever he carried remained dry for a handbreadth above and a\nhandbreadth below his hand; and when his companions were coldest, it was\nto them as fuel with which to light their fire.\n\nAnd Arthur called Bedwyr, who never shrank from any enterprise upon which\nKai was bound.  None were equal to him in swiftness throughout this\nIsland except Arthur and Drych Ail Kibddar.  And although he was\none-handed, three warriors could not shed blood faster than he on the\nfield of battle.  Another property he had, his lance would produce a\nwound equal to those of nine opposing lances.\n\nAnd Arthur called to Kynddelig the Guide, \"Go thou upon this expedition\nwith the chieftain.\"  For as good a guide was he in a land which he had\nnever seen as he was in his own.\n\nHe called Gwrhyr Gwalstawt Ieithoedd, because he knew all tongues.\n\nHe called Gwalchmai the son of Gwyar, because he never returned home\nwithout achieving the adventure of which he went in quest.  He was the\nbest of footmen and the best of knights.  He was nephew to Arthur, the\nson of his sister, and his cousin.\n\nAnd Arthur called Menw the son of Teirgwaedd, in order that if they went\ninto a savage country, he might cast a charm and an illusion over them,\nso that none might see them, whilst they could see every one.\n\nThey journeyed until they came to a vast open plain, wherein they saw a\ngreat castle, which was the fairest of the castles of the world.  And\nthey journeyed that day until the evening, and when they thought they\nwere nigh to the castle, they were no nearer to it than they had been in\nthe morning.  And the second and the third day they journeyed, and even\nthen scarcely could they reach so far.  And when they came before the\ncastle, they beheld a vast flock of sheep, which was boundless, and\nwithout an end.  And upon the top of a mound there was a herdsman,\nkeeping the sheep.  And a rug made of skins was upon him; and by his side\nwas a shaggy mastiff, larger than a steed nine winters old.  Never had he\nlost even a lamb from his flock, much less a large sheep.  He let no\noccasion ever pass without doing some hurt and harm.  All the dead trees\nand bushes in the plain he burnt with his breath down to the very ground.\n\nThen said Kai, \"Gwrhyr Gwalstawt Ieithoedd, go thou and salute yonder\nman.\"  \"Kai,\" said he, \"I engaged not to go further than thou thyself.\"\n\"Let us go then together,\" answered Kai. {81a}  Said Menw the son of\nTeirgwaedd, \"Fear not to go thither, for I will cast a spell upon the\ndog, so that he shall injure no one.\"  And they went up to the mound\nwhereon the herdsman was, and they said to him, \"How dost thou fare?  O\nherdsman!\"  \"No less fair be it to you than to me.\"  \"Truly, art thou the\nchief?\"  \"There is no hurt to injure me but my own.\" {81b}  \"Whose are\nthe sheep that thou dost keep, and to whom does yonder castle belong?\"\n\"Stupid are ye, truly!  Through the whole world is it known that this is\nthe castle of Yspaddaden Penkawr.\"  \"And who art thou?\"  \"I am called\nCustennin the son of Dyfnedig, and my brother Yspaddaden Penkawr\noppressed me because of my possession.  And ye also, who are ye?\"  \"We\nare an embassy from Arthur, come to seek Olwen, the daughter of\nYspaddaden Penkawr.\"  \"Oh men! the mercy of Heaven be upon you, do not\nthat for all the world.  None who ever came hither on this quest has\nreturned alive.\"  And the herdsman rose up.  And as he arose, Kilhwch\ngave unto him a ring of gold.  And he sought to put on the ring, but it\nwas too small for him, so he placed it in the finger of his glove.  And\nhe went home, and gave the glove to his spouse to keep.  And she took the\nring from the glove when it was given her, and she said, \"Whence came\nthis ring, for thou art not wont to have good fortune?\"  \"I went,\" said\nhe, \"to the sea to seek for fish, and lo, I saw a corpse borne by the\nwaves.  And a fairer corpse than it did I never behold.  And from its\nfinger did I take this ring.\"  \"Oh man! does the sea permit its dead to\nwear jewels?  Show me then this body.\"  \"Oh wife, him to whom this ring\nbelonged thou shalt see herein the evening.\" {82}  \"And who is he?\" asked\nthe woman.  \"Kilhwch the son of Kilydd, the son of Prince Kelyddon, by\nGoleuddydd the daughter of Prince Anlawdd, his mother, who is come to\nseek Olwen as his wife.\"  And when she heard that, her feelings were\ndivided between the joy that she had that her nephew, the son of her\nsister, was coming to her, and sorrow because she had never known any one\ndepart alive who had come on that quest.\n\nAnd they went forward to the gate of Custennin the herdsman's dwelling.\nAnd when she heard their footsteps approaching, she ran out with joy to\nmeet them.  And Kai snatched a billet out of the pile.  And when she met\nthem she sought to throw her arms about their necks.  And Kai placed the\nlog between her two hands, and she squeezed it so that it became a\ntwisted coil.  \"Oh woman,\" said Kai, \"if thou hadst squeezed me thus,\nnone could ever again have set their affections on me.  Evil love were\nthis.\"  They entered into the house, and were served; and soon after they\nall went forth to amuse themselves.  Then the woman opened a stone chest\nthat was before the chimney corner, and out of it arose a youth with\nyellow curling hair.  Said Gwrhyr, \"It is a pity to hide this youth.  I\nknow that it is not his own crime that is thus visited upon him.\"  \"This\nis but a remnant,\" said the woman.  \"Three and twenty of my sons has\nYspaddaden Penkawr slain, and I have no more hope of this one than of the\nothers.\"  Then said Kai, \"Let him come and be a companion with me, and he\nshall not be slain unless I also am slain with him.\"  And they ate.  And\nthe woman asked them, \"Upon what errand come you here?\"  \"We come to seek\nOlwen for this youth.\"  Then said the woman, \"In the name of Heaven,\nsince no one from the castle hath yet seen you, return again whence you\ncame.\"  \"Heaven is our witness, that we will not return until we have\nseen the maiden.\"  Said Kai, \"Does she ever come hither, so that she may\nbe seen?\"  \"She comes here every Saturday to wash her head, and in the\nvessel where she washes, she leaves all her rings, and she never either\ncomes herself or sends any messengers to fetch them.\"  \"Will she come\nhere if she is sent to?\"  \"Heaven knows that I will not destroy my soul,\nnor will I betray those that trust me; unless you will pledge me your\nfaith that you will not harm her, I will not send to her.\"  \"We pledge\nit,\" said they.  So a message was sent, and she came.\n\nThe maiden was clothed in a robe of flame-coloured silk, and about her\nneck was a collar of ruddy gold, on which were precious emeralds and\nrubies.  More yellow was her head than the flower of the broom, and her\nskin was whiter than the foam of the wave, and fairer were her hands and\nher fingers than the blossoms of the wood anemone amidst the spray of the\nmeadow fountain.  The eye of the trained hawk, the glance of the three-\nmewed falcon, was not brighter than hers.  Her bosom was more snowy than\nthe breast of the white swan, her cheek was redder than the reddest\nroses.  Whoso beheld her was filled with her love.  Four white trefoils\nsprung up wherever she trod.  And therefore was she called Olwen.\n\nShe entered the house, and sat beside Kilhwch upon the foremost bench;\nand as soon as he saw her he knew her.  And Kilhwch said unto her, \"Ah!\nmaiden, thou art she whom I have loved; come away with me lest they speak\nevil of thee and of me.  Many a day have I loved thee.\"  \"I cannot do\nthis, for I have pledged my faith to my father not to go without his\ncounsel, for his life will last only until the time of my espousals.\nWhatever is, must be.  But I will give thee advice if thou wilt take it.\nGo, ask me of my father, and that which he shall require of thee, grant\nit, and thou wilt obtain me; but if thou deny him anything, thou wilt not\nobtain me, and it will be well for thee if thou escape with thy life.\"  \"I\npromise all this, if occasion offer,\" said he. {84a}\n\nShe returned to her chamber, and they all rose up and followed her to the\ncastle.  And they slew the nine porters that were at the nine gates in\nsilence.  And they slew the nine watch-dogs without one of them barking.\nAnd they went forward to the hall.\n\n\"The greeting of Heaven and of man be unto thee, Yspaddaden Penkawr,\"\nsaid they.  \"And you, wherefore come you?\"  \"We come to ask thy daughter\nOlwen, for Kilhwch the son of Kilydd, the son of Prince Kelyddon.\"  \"Where\nare my pages and my servants? {84b}  Raise up the forks beneath my two\neyebrows which have fallen over my eyes, that I may see the fashion of my\nson-in-law.\"  And they did so.  \"Come hither to-morrow, and you shall\nhave an answer.\"\n\nThey rose to go forth, and Yspaddaden Penkawr seized one of the three\npoisoned darts that lay beside him, and threw it after them.  And Bedwyr\ncaught it, and flung it, and pierced Yspaddaden Penkawr grievously with\nit through the knee. {85a}  Then he said, \"A cursed ungentle son-in-law,\ntruly.  I shall ever walk the worse for his rudeness, and shall ever be\nwithout a cure.  This poisoned iron pains me like the bite of a gad-fly.\nCursed be the smith who forged it, and the anvil whereon it was wrought!\nSo sharp is it!\"\n\nThat night also they took up their abode in the house of Custennin the\nherdsman.  The next day with the dawn, they arrayed themselves in haste,\nand proceeded to the castle, and entered the hall, and they said,\n\"Yspaddaden Penkawr, give us thy daughter in consideration of her dower\nand her maiden fee, which we will pay to thee and to her two kinswomen\nlikewise.  And unless thou wilt do so, thou shall meet with thy death on\nher account.\"  Then he said, \"Her four great-grandmothers, and her four\ngreat-grandsires are yet alive, it is needful that I take counsel of\nthem.\"  \"Be it so,\" answered they, \"we will go to meat.\"  As they rose\nup; he took the second dart that was beside him, and cast it after them.\nAnd Menw the son of Gwaedd caught it, and flung it back at him, and\nwounded him in the centre of the breast, so that it came out at the small\nof his back.  \"A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly,\" said he, \"the hard\niron pains me like the bite of a horse-leech.  Cursed be the hearth\nwhereon it was heated, and the smith who formed it!  So sharp is it!\nHenceforth, whenever I go up a hill, I shall have a scant in my breath,\nand a pain in my chest, and I shall often loathe my food.\"  And they went\nto meat.\n\nAnd the third day they returned to the palace.  And Yspaddaden Penkawr\nsaid to them, \"Shoot not at me again unless you desire death.  Where are\nmy attendants?  Lift up the forks of my eyebrows which have fallen over\nmy eyeballs, that I may see the fashion of my son-in-law.\"  Then they\narose, and, as they did so, Yspaddaden Penkawr took the third poisoned\ndart, and cast it at them.  And Kilhwch caught it, and threw it\nvigorously, and wounded him through the eyeball, so that the dart came\nout at the back of his head.  \"A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly!  As\nlong as I remain alive, my eyesight will be the worse.  Whenever I go\nagainst the wind, my eyes will water; and peradventure my head will burn,\nand I shall have a giddiness every new moon.  Cursed be the fire in which\nit was forged.  Like the bite of a mad dog is the stroke of this poisoned\niron.\"  And they went to meat.\n\nAnd the next day they came again to the palace, and they said, \"Shoot not\nat us any more, unless thou desirest such hurt, and harm, and torture as\nthou now hast, and even more.  Give me thy daughter; and if thou wilt not\ngive her, thou shall receive thy death because of her.\"  \"Where is he\nthat seeks my daughter?  Come hither where I may see thee.\"  And they\nplaced him a chair face to face with him.\n\nSaid Yspaddaden Penkawr, \"Is it thou that seekest my daughter?\"  \"It is\nI,\" answered Kilhwch.  \"I must have thy pledge that thou wilt not do\ntowards me otherwise than is just, and, when I have gotten that which I\nshall name, my daughter thou shalt have.\"  \"I promise thee that\nwillingly,\" said Kilhwch; \"name what thou wilt.\"  \"I will do so,\" said\nhe.\n\n\"Seest thou yonder vast hill?\"  \"I see it.\"  \"I require that it be rooted\nup, and that the grubbings be burned for manure on the face of the land,\nand that it be ploughed and sown in one day, and in one day that the\ngrain ripen.  And of that wheat I intend to make food and liquor fit for\nthe wedding of thee and my daughter.  And all this I require to be done\nin one day.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though this be easy for thee, there is yet that which will not be so.  No\nhusbandman can till or prepare this land, so wild is it, except Amaethon\nthe son of Don, and he will not come with thee by his own free will, and\nthou wilt not be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nGovannon the son of Don to come to the headland to rid the iron, he will\ndo no work of his own good will except for a lawful king, and thou wilt\nnot be able to compel him.\"  \"It will be easy for me to compass this.\"\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get; the two\ndun oxen of Gwlwlyd, {87} both yoked together, to plough the wild land\nyonder stoutly.  He will not give them of his own free will, and thou\nwilt not be able to compel him.\"  \"It will be easy for me to compass\nthis.\"  \"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get;\nthe yellow and the brindled bull yoked together do I require.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get; the two\nhorned oxen, one of which is beyond, and the other this side of the\npeaked mountain, yoked together in the same plough.  And these are\nNynniaw and Peibaw, whom God turned into oxen on account of their sins.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  Seest\nthou yonder red tilled ground?\"\n\n\"I see it.\"\n\n\"When first I met the mother of this maiden, nine bushels of flax were\nsown therein, and none has yet sprung up, neither white nor black; and I\nhave the measure by me still.  I require to have the flax to sow in the\nnew land yonder, that when it grows up it may make a white wimple, for my\ndaughter's head on the day of thy wedding.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  Honey\nthat is nine times sweeter than the honey of the virgin swarm, without\nscum and bees, do I require to make bragget for the feast.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"The vessel of Llwyr the son of Llwyryon, which is of the utmost value.\nThere is no other vessel in the world that can hold this drink.  Of his\nfree will thou wilt not get it, and thou canst not compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  The\nbasket of Gwyddneu Garanhir, if the whole world should come together,\nthrice nine men at a time, the meat that each of them desired would be\nfound within it.  I require to eat therefrom on the night that my\ndaughter becomes thy bride.  He will give it to no one of his own free\nwill, and thou canst not compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  The\nhorn of Gwlgawd Gododin to serve us with liquor that night.  He will not\ngive it of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  The\nharp of Teirtu to play to us that night. {89}  When a man desires that it\nshould play, it does so of itself, and when he desires that it should\ncease, it ceases.  And this he will not give of his own free will, and\nthou wilt not be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  The\ncauldron of Diwrnach Wyddel, the steward of Odgar the son of Aedd, king\nof Ireland, to boil the meat for thy marriage feast.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  It is\nneedful for me to wash my head, and shave my beard, and I require the\ntusk of Yskithyrwyn Benbaedd to shave myself withal, neither shall I\nprofit by its use if it be not plucked alive out of his head.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  There\nis no one in the world that can pluck it out of his head except Odgar the\nson of Aedd, king of Ireland.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  I will\nnot trust any one to keep the tusk except Gado of North Britain.  Now the\nthreescore Cantrevs of North Britain are under his sway, and of his own\nfree will he will not come out of his kingdom, and thou wilt not be able\nto compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit wilt not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  I must\nspread out my hair in order to shave it, and it will never be spread out\nunless I have the blood of the jet black sorceress, the daughter of the\npure white sorceress, from Pen Nant Govid, on the confines of Hell.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  I will\nnot have the blood unless I have it warm, and no vessels will keep warm\nthe liquid that is put therein except the bottles of Gwyddolwyn Gorr,\nwhich preserve the heat of the liquor that is put into them in the east,\nuntil they arrive at the west.  And he will not give them of his own free\nwill, and thou wilt not be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  Some\nwill desire fresh milk, and it will not be possible to have fresh milk\nfor all, unless we have the bottles of Rhinnon Rhin Barnawd, wherein no\nliquor ever turns sour.  And he will not give them of his own free will,\nand thou wilt not be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nThroughout the world there is not a comb or scissors with which I can\narrange my hair, on account of its rankness, except the comb and scissors\nthat are between the two ears of Twrch Trwyth, the son of Prince Tared.\nHe will not give them of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to\ncompel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  It\nwill not be possible to hunt Twrch Trwyth without Drudwyn, the whelp of\nGreid, the son of Eri.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nThroughout the world there is not a leash that can hold him, except the\nleash of Cwrs Cant Ewin.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nThroughout the world there is no collar that wilt hold the leash except\nthe collar of Canhastyr Canllaw.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  The\nchain of Kilydd Canhastyr to fasten the collar to the leash.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nThroughout the world there is not a huntsman who can hunt with this dog,\nexcept Mabon the son of Modron.  He was taken from his mother when three\nnights old, and it is not known where he now is, nor whether he is living\nor dead.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  Gwynn\nMygdwn, the horse of Gweddw that is as swift as the wave, to carry Mabon\nthe son of Modron to hunt the Boar Trwyth.  He will not give him of his\nown free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  Thou\nwilt not get Mabon, for it is not known where he is, unless thou find\nEidoel, his kinsman in blood, the son of Aer.  For it would be useless to\nseek for him.  He is his cousin.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nGarselit the Gwyddelian {92} is the chief huntsman of Ireland; the Twrch\nTrwyth can never be hunted without him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  A\nleash made from the beard of Dissull Varvawc, for that is the only one\nthat can hold those two cubs.  And the leash will be of no avail unless\nit be plucked from his beard while he is alive, and twitched out with\nwooden tweezers.  While he lives he will not suffer this to be done to\nhim, and the leash will be of no use should he be dead, because it will\nbe brittle.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nThroughout the world there is no huntsman that can hold those two whelps,\nexcept Kynedyr Wyllt, the son of Hettwn Glafyrawc; he is nine times more\nwild than the wildest beast upon the mountains.  Him wilt thou never get,\nneither wilt thou ever get my daughter.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  It is\nnot possible to hunt the Boar Trwyth without Gwynn the son of Nudd, whom\nGod has placed over the brood of devils in Annwn, lest they should\ndestroy the present race.  He will never be spared thence.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  There\nis not a horse in the world that can carry Gwynn to hunt the Twrch\nTrwyth, except Du, the horse of Mor of Oerveddawg.\" {93}\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  Until\nGilennhin the king of France shall come, the Twrch Trwyth cannot be\nhunted.  It will be unseemly for him to leave his kingdom for thy sake,\nand he will never come hither.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  The\nTwrch Trwyth can never be hunted without the son of Alun Dyved; he is\nwell skilled in letting loose the dogs.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  The\nTwrch Trwyth cannot be hunted unless thou get Aned and Aethlem.  They are\nas swift as the gale of wind, and they were never let loose upon a beast\nthat they did not kill him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get; Arthur\nand his companions to hunt the Twrch Trwyth.  He is a mighty man, and he\nwill not come for thee, neither wilt thou be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  The\nTwrch Trwyth cannot be hunted unless thou get Bwlch, and Kyfwlch, [and\nSefwlch,] the grandsons of Cleddyf Difwlch.  Their three shields are\nthree gleaming glitterers.  Their three spears are three pointed\npiercers.  Their three swords are three griding gashers, Glas, Glessic,\nand Clersag.  Their three dogs, Call, Cuall, and Cavall, Their three\nhorses, Hwyrdydwg, and Drwgdydwg, and Llwyrdydwg.  Their three wives,\nOch, and Geram, and Diaspad.  Their three grandchildren, Lluched, and\nVyned, and Eissiwed.  Their three daughters, Drwg, and Gwaeth, and\nGwaethav Oil.  Their three handmaids, [Eheubryd, the daughter of Kyfwlch;\nGorasgwrn, the daughter of Nerth; and Gwaedan, the daughter of Kynvelyn.]\nThese three men shall sound the horn, and all the others shall shout, so\nthat all will think that the sky is falling to the earth.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  The\nsword of Gwrnach the Giant; he will never be slain except therewith.  Of\nhis own free will he will not give it, either for a price or as a gift,\nand thou wilt never be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that\nit will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nDifficulties shall thou meet with, and nights without sleep, in seeking\nthis, and if thou obtain it not, neither shalt thou obtain my daughter.\"\n\n\"Horses shall I have, and chivalry; and my lord and kinsman Arthur will\nobtain for me all these things.  And I shall gain thy daughter, and thou\nshalt lose thy life.\"\n\n\"Go forward.  And thou shalt not be chargeable for food or raiment for my\ndaughter while thou art seeking these things; and when thou hast\ncompassed all these marvels, thou shalt have my daughter for thy wife.\"\n\n* * * * *\n\nAll that day they journeyed until the evening, and then they beheld a\nvast castle, which was the largest in the world.  And lo, a black man,\nhuger than three of the men of this world, came out from the castle.  And\nthey spoke unto him, \"Whence comest them, O man?\"  \"From the castle which\nyou see yonder.\"  \"Whose castle is that?\" asked they.  \"Stupid are ye\ntruly, O men.  There is no one in the world that does not know to whom\nthis castle belongs.  It is the castle of Gwrnach the Giant.\"  \"What\ntreatment is there for guests and strangers that alight in that castle?\"\n\"Oh! chieftain, Heaven protect thee.  No guest ever returned thence\nalive, and no one may enter therein unless he brings with him his craft.\"\n\nThen they proceeded towards the gate.  Said Gwrhyr Gwalstawd Ieithoedd,\n\"Is there a porter?\"  \"There is.  And thou, if thy tongue be not mute in\nthy head, wherefore dost thou call?\"  \"Open the gate.\"  \"I will not open\nit.\"  \"Wherefore wilt thou not?\"  \"The knife is in the meat, and the\ndrink is in the horn, and there is revelry in the hall of Gwrnach the\nGiant, and except for a craftsman who brings his craft, the gate will not\nbe opened to-night.\"  \"Verily, porter,\" then said Kai, \"my craft bring I\nwith me.\"  \"What is thy craft?\"  \"The best burnisher of swords am I in\nthe world.\"  \"I will go and tell this unto Gwrnach the Giant, and I will\nbring thee an answer.\"\n\nSo the porter went in, and Gwrnach said to him, \"Hast thou any news from\nthe gate?\"  \"I have.  There is a party at the door of the gate who desire\nto come in.\"  \"Didst thou enquire of them if they possessed any art?\"  \"I\ndid enquire,\" said he, \"and one told me that he was well skilled in the\nburnishing of swords.\"  \"We have need of him then.  For some time have I\nsought for some one to polish my sword, and could find no one.  Let this\nman enter, since he brings with him his craft.\"\n\nThe porter thereupon returned, and opened the gate.  And Kai went in by\nhimself, and he saluted Gwrnach the Giant.  And a chair was placed for\nhim opposite to Gwrnach.  And Gwrnach said to him, \"Oh man! is it true\nthat is reported of thee that thou knowest how to burnish swords?\"  \"I\nknow full well how to do so,\" answered Kai.  Then was the sword of\nGwrnach brought to him.  And Kai took a blue whetstone from under his\narm, and asked him whether he would have it burnished white or blue.  \"Do\nwith it as it seems good to thee, and as thou wouldest if it were thine\nown.\"  Then Kai polished one half of the blade and put it in his hand.\n\"Will this please thee?\" asked he.  \"I would rather than all that is in\nmy dominions that the whole of it were like unto this.  It is a marvel to\nme that such a man as thou should be without a companion.\"  \"Oh! noble\nsir, I have a companion, albeit he is not skilled in this art.\"  \"Who may\nhe be?\"  \"Let the porter go forth, and I will tell him whereby he may\nknow him.  The head of his lance will leave its shaft, and draw blood\nfrom the wind, and will descend upon its shaft again.\"  Then the gate was\nopened, and Bedwyr entered.  And Kai said, \"Bedwyr is very skilful,\nalthough he knows not this art.\"\n\nAnd there was much discourse among those who were without, because that\nKai and Bedwyr had gone in.  And a young man who was with them, the only\nson of Custennin the herdsman, got in also.  And he caused all his\ncompanions to keep close to him as he passed the three wards, and until\nhe came into the midst of the castle. {98a}  And his companions said unto\nthe son of Custennin, \"Thou hast done this!  Thou art the best of all\nmen.\"  And thenceforth he was called Goreu, the son of Custennin.  Then\nthey dispersed to their lodgings, that they might slay those who lodged\ntherein, unknown to the Giant.\n\nThe sword was now polished, and Kai gave it unto the hand of Gwrnach the\nGiant, to see if he were pleased with his work.  And the Giant said, \"The\nwork is good, I am content therewith.\"  Said Kai, \"It is thy scabbard\nthat hath rusted thy sword; give it to me that I may take out the wooden\nsides of it, and put in new ones.\"  And he took the scabbard from him,\nand the sword in the other hand.  And he came and stood over against the\nGiant, as if he would have put the sword into the scabbard; and with it\nhe struck at the head of the Giant, and cut off his head at one blow.\nThen they despoiled the castle, and took from it what goods and jewels\nthey would.  And again on the same day, at the beginning of the year,\nthey came to Arthur's Court, bearing with them the sword of Gwrnach the\nGiant.\n\nNow when they had told Arthur how they had sped, Arthur said, \"Which of\nthese marvels will it be best for us to seek first?\"  \"It will be best,\"\nsaid they, \"to seek Mabon the son of Modron; and he will not be found\nunless we first find Eidoel, the son of Aer, his kinsman.\"  Then Arthur\nrose up, and the warriors of the Islands of Britain with him, to seek for\nEidoel; and they proceeded until they came before the Castle of Glivi,\n{98b} where Eidoel was imprisoned.  Glivi {99a} stood on the summit of\nhis Castle, and he said, \"Arthur, what requirest thou of me, since\nnothing remains to me in this fortress, and I have neither joy nor\npleasure in it; neither wheat nor oats?  Seek not therefore to do me\nharm.\"  Said Arthur, \"Not to injure thee came I hither, but to seek for\nthe prisoner that is with thee.\"  \"I will give thee my prisoner, though I\nhad not thought to give him up to any one; and therewith shall thou have\nmy support and my aid.\"\n\nHis followers said unto Arthur, \"Lord, go thou home, thou canst not\nproceed with thy host in quest of such small adventures as these.\"  Then\nsaid Arthur, \"It were well for thee, Gwrhyr Gwalstawd Iethoedd, to go\nupon this quest, for thou knowest all languages, and art familiar with\n{99b} those of the birds and the beasts.  Thou Eidoel oughtest likewise\nto go with my men in search of thy cousin.  And as for you, Kai and\nBedwyr, I have hope of whatever adventure ye are in quest of, that ye\nwill achieve it.  Achieve ye this adventure for me.\"\n\nThey went forward until they came to the Ousel of Cilgwri.  And Gwrhyr\nadjured her for the sake of Heaven, saying, \"Tell me if thou knowest\naught of Mabon the son of Modron, who was taken when three nights old\nfrom between his mother and the wall.\"  And the Ousel answered, \"When I\nfirst came here, there was a smith's anvil in this place, and I was then\na young bird; and from that time no work has been done upon it, save the\npecking of my beak every evening, and now there is not so much as the\nsize of a nut remaining thereof; yet the vengeance of Heaven be upon me,\nif during all that time I have ever heard of the man for whom you\nenquire.  Nevertheless I will do that which is right, and that which it\nis fitting that I should do for an embassy from Arthur.  There is a race\nof animals who were formed before me, and I will be your guide to them.\"\n\nSo they proceeded to the place where was the Stag of Redynvre.  \"Stag of\nRedynvre, behold we are come to thee, an embassy from Arthur, for we have\nnot heard of any animal older than thou.  Say, knowest thou aught of\nMabon the son of Modron, who was taken from his mother when three nights\nold?\"  The Stag said, \"When first I came hither, there was a plain all\naround me, without any trees save one oak sapling, {100} which grew up to\nbe an oak with an hundred branches.  And that oak has since perished, so\nthat now nothing remains of it but the withered stump; and from that day\nto this I have been here, yet have I never heard of the man for whom you\nenquire.  Nevertheless, being an embassy from Arthur, I will be your\nguide to the place where there is an animal which was formed before I\nwas.\"\n\nSo they proceeded to the place where was the Owl of Cwm Cawlwyd.  \"Owl of\nCwm Cawlwyd, here is an embassy from Arthur; knowest thou aught of Mabon\nthe son of Modron, who was taken after three nights from his mother?\"  \"If\nI knew I would tell you.  When first I came hither, the wide valley you\nsee was a wooded glen.  And a race of men came and rooted it up.  And\nthere grew there a second wood; and this wood is the third.  My wings,\nare they not withered stumps?  Yet all this time, even until to-day, I\nhave never heard of the man for whom you enquire.  Nevertheless, I will\nbe the guide of Arthur's embassy until you come to the place where is the\noldest animal in this world, and the one that has travelled most, the\nEagle of Gwern Abwy.\"\n\nGwrhyr said, \"Eagle of Gwern Abwy, we have come to thee an embassy from\nArthur, to ask thee if thou knowest aught of Mabon the son of Modron, who\nwas taken from his mother when he was three nights old.\"  The Eagle said,\n\"I have been here for a great space of time, and when I first came hither\nthere was a rock here, from the top of which I pecked at the stars every\nevening; and now it is not so much as a span high.  From that day to this\nI have been here, and I have never heard of the man for whom you enquire,\nexcept once when I went in search of food as far as Llyn Llyw.  And when\nI came there, I struck my talons into a salmon, thinking he would serve\nme as food for a long time.  But he drew me into the deep, and I was\nscarcely able to escape from him.  After that I went with my whole\nkindred to attack him, and to try to destroy him, but he sent messengers,\nand made peace with me; and came and besought me to take fifty fish\nspears out of his back.  Unless he know something of him whom you seek, I\ncannot tell who may.  However, I will guide you to the place where he\nis.\"\n\nSo they went thither; and the Eagle said, \"Salmon of Llyn Llyw, I have\ncome to thee with an embassy from Arthur, to ask thee if thou knowest\naught concerning Mabon the son of Modron, who was taken away at three\nnights old from his mother.\"  \"As much as I know I will tell thee.  With\nevery tide I go along the river upwards, until I come near to the walls\nof Gloucester, and there have I found such wrong as I never found\nelsewhere; and to the end that ye may give credence thereto, let one of\nyou go thither upon each of my two shoulders.\"  So Kai and Gwrhyr\nGwalstawd Ieithoedd went upon the two shoulders of the salmon, and they\nproceeded until they came unto the wall of the prison, and they heard a\ngreat wailing and lamenting from the dungeon. {102}  Said Gwrhyr, \"Who is\nit that laments in this house of stone?\"  \"Alas, there is reason enough\nfor whoever is here to lament.  It is Mabon the son of Modron who is here\nimprisoned, and no imprisonment was ever so grievous as mine, neither\nthat of Lludd Llaw Ereint, nor that of Greid the son of Eri.\"  \"Hast thou\nhope of being released for gold, or for silver, or for any gifts of\nwealth, or through battle and fighting?\"  \"By fighting will whatever I\nmay gain be obtained.\"\n\n{Picture: p102.jpg}\n\nThen they went thence, and returned to Arthur, and they told him where\nMabon the son of Modron was imprisoned.  And Arthur summoned the warriors\nof the Island, and they journeyed as far as Gloucester, to the place\nwhere Mabon was in prison.  Kai and Bedwyr went upon the shoulders of the\nfish, whilst the warriors of Arthur attacked the castle.  And Kai broke\nthrough the wall into the dungeon, and brought away the prisoner upon his\nback, whilst the fight was going on between the warriors.  And Arthur\nreturned home, and Mabon with him at liberty.\n\n* * * * *\n\nSaid Arthur, \"Which of the marvels will it be best for us now to seek\nfirst?\"  \"It will be best to seek for the two cubs of Gast Rhymhi.\"  \"Is\nit known,\" said Arthur, \"where she is?\"  \"She is in Aber Deu Gleddyf,\"\nsaid one.  Then Arthur went to the house of Tringad, in Aber Cleddyf, and\nhe enquired of him whether he had heard of her there.  \"In what form may\nshe be?\"  \"She is in the form of a she wolf,\" said he, \"and with her\nthere are two cubs.\"  \"She has often slain my herds, and she is there\nbelow in a cave in Aber Cleddyf.\"\n\nSo Arthur went in his ship Prydwen by sea, and the others went by land,\nto hunt her.  And they surrounded her and her two cubs, and God did\nchange them again for Arthur into their own form.  And the host of Arthur\ndispersed themselves into parties of one and two.\n\n* * * * *\n\nOn a certain day, as Gwythyr the son of Greidawl was walking over a\nmountain, he heard a wailing and a grievous cry.  And when he heard it,\n{103} he sprung forward, and went towards it.  And when he came there, he\ndrew his sword, and smote off an ant-hill close to the earth, whereby it\nescaped being burned in the fire.  And the ants said to him, \"Receive\nfrom us the blessing of Heaven, and that which no man can give we will\ngive thee.\"  Then they fetched the nine bushels of flax-seed which\nYspaddaden Penkawr had required of Kilhwch, and they brought the full\nmeasure, without lacking any, except one flax-seed, and that the lame\npismire brought in before night.\n\n* * * * *\n\nAs Kai and Bedwyr sat on a beacon carn on the summit of Plinlimmon, in\nthe highest wind that ever was in the world, they looked around them, and\nsaw a great smoke towards the south, afar off, which did not bend with\nthe wind.  Then said Kai, \"By the hand of my friend, behold, yonder is\nthe fire of a robber!\"  Then they hastened towards the smoke, and they\ncame so near to it, that they could see Dillus Varvawc scorching a wild\nBoar.  \"Behold, yonder is the greatest robber that ever fled from\nArthur,\" said Bedwyr unto Kai.  \"Dost thou know him?\"  \"I do know him,\"\nanswered Kai, \"he is Dillus Varvawc, and no leash in the world will be\nable to hold Drudwyn, the cub of Greid the son of Eri, save a leash made\nfrom the beard of him thou seest yonder.  And that even will be useless,\nunless his beard be plucked alive with wooden tweezers; for if dead, it\nwill be brittle.\"  \"What thinkest thou that we should do concerning\nthis?\" said Bedwyr.  \"Let us suffer him,\" said Kai, \"to eat as much as he\nwill of the meat, and after that he will fall asleep.\"  And during that\ntime they employed themselves in making the wooden tweezers.  And when\nKai knew certainly that he was asleep, he made a pit under his feet, the\nlargest in the world, and he struck him a violent blow, and squeezed him\ninto the pit.  And there they twitched out his beard completely with the\nwooden tweezers; and after that they slew him altogether.\n\nAnd from thence they both went to Gelli Wic, in Cornwall, and took the\nleash made of Dillus Varvawc's beard with them, and they gave it unto\nArthur's hand.\n\nThen Arthur composed this Englyn,\n\n   Kai made a leash\n   Of Dillus son of Eurei's beard.\n   Were he alive, thy death he'd be.\n\nAnd thereupon Kai was wroth, so that the warriors of the Island could\nscarcely make peace between Kai and Arthur.  And thenceforth, neither in\nArthur's troubles, nor for the slaying of his men, would Kai come forward\nto his aid for ever after.\n\n* * * * *\n\nSaid Arthur, \"Which of the marvels is it best for us now to seek?\"  \"It\nis best for us to seek Drudwyn, the cub of Greid, the son of Eri.\"\n\nA little while before this, Creiddylad, the daughter of Lludd Llaw\nEreint, and Gwythyr the son of Greidawl, were betrothed.  And before she\nhad become his bride, Gwyn ap Nudd came, and carried her away by force;\nand Gwythyr the son of Greidawl gathered his host together, and went to\nfight with Gwyn ap Nudd.  But Gwyn overcame him, and captured Greid the\nson of Eri, and Glinneu the son of Taran and Gwrgwst Ledlwm, and Dynvarth\n{105} his son.  And he captured Penn the son of Nethawg, and Nwython, and\nKyledyr Wyllt his son.  And they slew Nwython, and took out his heart,\nand constrained Kyledyr to eat the heart of his father.  And therefrom\nKyledyr became mad.  When Arthur heard of this, he went to the North, and\nsummoned Gwyn ap Nudd before him, and set free the nobles whom he had put\nin prison, and made peace between Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwythyr the son of\nGreidawl.  And this was the peace that was made: that the maiden should\nremain in her father's house, without advantage to either of them, and\nthat Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwythyr the son of Greidawl should fight for her\nevery first of May, from thenceforth until the day of doom, and that\nwhichever of them should then be conqueror should have the maiden.\n\nAnd when Arthur had thus reconciled these chieftains, he obtained Mygdwn,\nGweddw's horse, and the leash of Cwrs Cant Ewin.\n\nAnd after that Arthur went into Armorica, and with him Mabon the son of\nMellt, and Gware Gwallt Euryn, to seek the two dogs of Glythmyr Ledewic.\nAnd when he had got them, he went to the West of Ireland, in search of\nGwrgi Severi; and Odgar the son of Aedd, king of Ireland, went with him.\nAnd thence went Arthur into the North, and captured Kyledyr Wyllt; and he\nwent after Yskithyrwyn Penbaedd.  And Mabon the son of Mellt came with\nthe two dogs of Glythmyr Ledewic in his hand, and Drudwyn, the cub of\nGreid the son of Eri.  And Arthur went himself to the chase, leading his\nown dog Cavall.  And Kaw, of North Britain, mounted Arthur's mare\nLlamrei, and was first in the attack.  Then Kaw, of North Britain,\nwielded a mighty axe, and absolutely daring he came valiantly up to the\nBoar, and clave his head in twain.  And Kaw took away the tusk.  Now the\nBoar was not slain by the dogs that Yspaddaden had mentioned, but by\nCavall, Arthur's own dog.\n\nAnd after Yskithyrwyn Penbaedd was killed, Arthur and his host departed\nto Gelli Wic in Cornwall.  And thence he sent Menw the son of Teirgwaedd\nto see if the precious things were between the two ears of Twrch Trwyth,\nsince it were useless to encounter him if they were not there.  Albeit it\nwas certain where he was, for he had laid waste the third part of\nIreland.  And Menw went to seek for him, and he met with him in Ireland,\nin Esgeir Oervel.  And Menw took the form of a bird; and he descended\nupon the top of his lair, and strove to snatch away one of the precious\nthings from him, but he carried away nothing but one of his bristles.  And\nthe boar rose up angrily and shook himself so that some of his venom fell\nupon Menw, and he was never well from that day forward.\n\nAfter this Arthur sent an embassy to Odgar, the son of Aedd, king of\nIreland, to ask for the Cauldron of Diwrnach Wyddel, his purveyor.  And\nOdgar commanded him to give it.  But Diwrnach said, \"Heaven is my\nwitness, if it would avail him anything even to look at it, he should not\ndo so.\"  And the embassy of Arthur returned from Ireland with this\ndenial.  And Arthur set forward with a small retinue, and entered into\nPrydwen, his ship, and went over to Ireland.  And they proceeded into the\nhouse of Diwrnach Wyddel.  And the hosts of Odgar saw their strength.\nWhen they had eaten and drank as much as they desired, Arthur demanded to\nhave the cauldron.  And he answered, \"If I would have given it to any\none, I would have given it at the word of Odgar, king of Ireland.\"\n\nWhen he had given them this denial, Bedwyr arose and seized hold of the\ncauldron, and placed it upon the back of Hygwyd, Arthur's servant, who\nwas brother, by the mother's side, to Arthur's servant, Cachamwri.  His\noffice was always to carry Arthur's cauldron, and to place fire under it.\nAnd Llenlleawg Wyddel seized Caledvwlch, and brandished it.  And they\nslew Diwrnach Wyddel and his company.  Then came the Irish, {108a} and\nfought with them.  And when he had put them to flight, Arthur with his\nmen went forward to the ship, carrying away the cauldron full of Irish\nmoney. {108b}  And he disembarked at the house of Llwydden {108c} the son\nof Kelcoed, at Forth Kerddin in Dyved.  And there is the measure of the\ncauldron.\n\nThen Arthur summoned unto him all the warriors that were in the three\nIslands of Britain, and in the three Islands adjacent, and all that were\nin France and in Armorica, in Normandy and in the Summer Country, and all\nthat were chosen footmen and valiant horsemen.  And with all these, he\nwent into Ireland.  And in Ireland there was great fear and terror\nconcerning him.  And when Arthur had landed in the country, there came\nunto him the saints of Ireland and besought his protection.  And he\ngranted his protection unto them, and they gave him their blessing.  Then\nthe men of Ireland came unto Arthur, and brought him provisions.  And\nArthur went as far as Esgeir Oervel in Ireland, to the place where the\nBoar Trwyth was with his seven young pigs.  And the dogs were let loose\nupon him from all sides.  That day until evening, the Irish fought with\nhim, nevertheless he laid waste the fifth part of Ireland.  And on the\nday following the household of Arthur fought with him, and they were\nworsted by him, and got no advantage.  And the third day Arthur himself\nencountered him, and he fought with him nine nights and nine days without\nso much as killing even one little pig. {109}  The warriors enquired of\nArthur, what was the origin of that swine; and he told them that he was\nonce a king, and that God had transformed him into a swine for his sins.\n\nThen Arthur sent Gwrhyr Gwalstawt Ieithoedd, to endeavour to speak with\nhim.  And Gwrhyr assumed the form of a bird, and alighted upon the top of\nthe lair, where he was with the seven young pigs.  And Gwrhyr Gwalstawt\nIeithoedd asked him, \"By him who turned you into this form, if you can\nspeak, let some one of you, I beseech you, come and talk with Arthur.\"\nGrugyn Gwrych Ereint made answer to him.  (Now his bristles were like\nsilver wire, and whether he went through the wood or through the plain,\nhe was to be traced by the glittering of his bristles.)  And this was the\nanswer that Grugyn made, \"By him who turned us into this form we will not\ndo so, and we will not speak with Arthur.  That we have been transformed\nthus is enough for us to suffer, without your coming here to fight with\nus.\"  \"I will tell you.  Arthur comes but to fight for the comb, and the\nrazor, and the scissors, which are between the two ears of Twrch Trwyth.\"\nSaid Grugyn, \"Except he first take his life, he will never have those\nprecious things.  And to-morrow morning we will rise up hence, and we\nwill go into Arthur's country, and there will we do all the mischief that\nwe can.\"\n\nSo they set forth through the sea towards Wales.  And Arthur and his\nhosts, and his horses and his dogs, entered Prydwen, that they might\nencounter them without delay.  Twrch Trwyth landed in Porth Cleis in\nDyved, and the {110} came to Mynyw.  The next day it was told to Arthur,\nthat they had gone by, and he overtook them, as they were killing the\ncattle of Kynnwas Kwrr y Vagyl, having slain all that were at Aber\nGleddyf, of man and beast, before the coming of Arthur.\n\nNow when Arthur approached, Twrch Trwyth went on as far as Preseleu, and\nArthur and his hosts followed him thither, and Arthur sent men to hunt\nhim; Eli and Trachmyr, leading Drutwyn the whelp of Greid, the son of\nEri, and Gwarthegyd the son of Kaw, in another quarter, with the two dogs\nof Glythmyr Ledewig, and Bedwyr leading Cavall, Arthur's own dog.  And\nall the warriors ranged themselves around the Nyver.  And there came\nthere the three sons of Cleddyf Divwlch, men who had gained much fame at\nthe slaying of Yskithyrwyn Penbaedd; and they went on from Glyn Nyver,\nand came to Cwm Kerwyn.\n\nAnd there Twrch Trwyth made a stand, and slew four of Arthur's champions,\nGwarthegyd the son of Kaw, and Tarawc of Allt Clwyd, and Rheidwn the son\nof Eli Atver, and Iscovan Hael.  And after he had slain these men, he\nmade a second stand in the same place.  And there he slew Gwydre the son\nof Arthur, and Garselit Wyddel, and Glew the son of Ysgawd, and Iscawn\nthe son of Panon; and there he himself was wounded.\n\nAnd the next morning before it was day, some of the men came up with him.\nAnd he slew Huandaw, and Gogigwr, and Penpingon, three attendants upon\nGlewlwyd Gavaelvawr, so that Heaven knows he had not an attendant\nremaining, excepting only Llaesgevyn, a man from whom no one ever derived\nany good.  And together with these, he slew many of the men of that\ncountry, and Gwlydyn Saer, Arthur's chief Architect.\n\nThen Arthur overtook him at Pelumyawc, and there he slew Madawc the son\nof Teithyon, and Gwyn the son of Tringad, the son of Neved, and Eiryawn\nPenllorau.  Thence he went to Aberteivi, {111a} where he made another\nstand, and where he slew Kyflas {111b} the son of Kynan, and Gwilenhin\nking of France.  Then he went as far as Glyn Ystu, and there the men and\nthe dogs lost him.\n\nThen Arthur summoned unto him Gwyn ab Nudd, and he asked him if he knew\naught of Twrch Trwyth.  And he said that he did not.\n\nAnd all the huntsmen went to hunt the swine as far as Dyffryn Llychwr.\nAnd Grugyn Gwallt Ereint, and Llwydawg Govynnyad closed with them and\nkilled all the huntsmen, so that there escaped but one man only.  And\nArthur and his hosts came to the place where Grugyn and Llwydawg were.\nAnd there he let loose the whole of the dogs upon them, and with the\nshout and barking that was set up, Twrch Trwyth came to their assistance.\n\nAnd from the time that they came across the Irish sea, Arthur had never\ngot sight of him until then. {111c}  So he set men and dogs upon him, and\nthereupon he started off and went to Mynydd Amanw.  And there one of his\nyoung pigs was killed. {112a}  Then they set upon him life for life, and\nTwrch Llawin was slain, and then there was slain another of the swine,\nGwys was his name.  After that he went on to Dyffryn Amanw, and there\nBanw and Bennwig were killed. {112b}  Of all his pigs there went with him\nalive from that place none save Grugyn Gwallt Ereint, and Llwydawg\nGovynnyad.\n\nThence he went on to Llwch Ewin, and Arthur overtook him there, and he\nmade a stand.  And there he slew Echel Forddwytwll, and Garwyli the son\nof Gwyddawg Gwyr, and many men and dogs likewise.  And thence they went\nto Llwch Tawy.  Grugyn Gwrych Ereint parted from them there, and went to\nDin Tywi.  And thence he proceeded to Ceredigiawn, and Eli and Trachmyr\nwith him, and a multitude likewise.  Then he came to Garth Gregyn, and\nthere Llwydawg Govynnyad fought in the midst of them, and slew Rhudvyw\nRhys and many others with him.  Then Llwydawg went thence to Ystrad Yw,\nand there the men of Armorica met him, and there he slew Hirpeissawg, the\nking of Armorica, and Llygatrudd Emys, and Gwrbothu, Arthur's uncles, his\nmother's brothers, and there was he himself slain.\n\nTwrch Trwyth went from there to between Tawy and Euyas, and Arthur\nsummoned all Cornwall and Devon unto him, to the estuary of the Severn,\nand he said to the warriors of this Island, \"Twrch Trwyth has slain many\nof my men, but, by the valour of warriors, while I live he shall not go\ninto Cornwall.  And I will not follow him any longer, but I will oppose\nhim life to life.  Do ye as ye will.\"  And he resolved that he would send\na body of knights, with the dogs of the Island, as far as Euyas, who\nshould return thence to the Severn, and that tried warriors should\ntraverse the Island, and force him into the Severn.  And Mabon the son of\nModron came up with him at the Severn, upon Gwynn Mygddon, the horse of\nGweddw, and Goreu the son of Custennin, and Menw the son of Teirgwaedd;\nthis was betwixt Llyn Lliwan and Aber Gwy.  And Arthur fell upon him\ntogether with the champions of Britain.  And Osla Kyllellvawr drew near,\nand Manawyddan the son of Llyr, and Kacmwri the servant of Arthur, and\nGwyngelli, and they seized hold of him, catching him first by his feet,\nand plunged him in the Severn, so that it overwhelmed him.  On the one\nside, Mabon the son of Modron spurred his steed and snatched his razor\nfrom him, and Kyledyr Wyllt came up with him on the other side, upon\nanother steed, in the Severn, and took from him the scissors.  But before\nthey could obtain the comb, he had regained the ground with his feet, and\nfrom the moment that he reached the shore, neither dog, nor man, nor\nhorse could overtake him until he came to Cornwall.  If they had had\ntrouble in getting the jewels from him, much more had they in seeking to\nsave the two men from being drowned.  Kacmwri, as they drew him forth,\nwas dragged by two millstones into the deep.  And as Osla Kyllellvawr was\nrunning after the Boar his knife had dropped out of the sheath, and he\nhad lost it, and after that the sheath became full of water, and its\nweight drew him down into the deep, as they were drawing him forth.\n\nThen Arthur and his hosts proceeded until they overtook the Boar in\nCornwall, and the trouble which they had met with before was mere play to\nwhat they encountered in seeking the comb.  But from one difficulty to\nanother, the comb was at length obtained.  And then he was hunted from\nCornwall, and driven straight forward into the deep sea.  And thenceforth\nit was never known whither he went; and Aned and Aethlem with him.  Then\nwent Arthur to Gelliwic, in Cornwall, to anoint himself, and to rest from\nhis fatigues.\n\n* * * * *\n\nSaid Arthur, \"Is there any one of the marvels yet unobtained?\"  Said one\nof his men, \"There is--the blood of the witch Orddu, the daughter of the\nwitch Orwen, of Penn Nant Govid, on the confines of Hell.\"  Arthur set\nforth towards the North, and came to the place where was the witch's\ncave.  And Gwyn ab Nudd, and Gwythyr the son of Greidawl, counselled him\nto send Kacmwri, and Hygwyd his brother to fight with the witch.  And as\nthey entered the cave, the witch seized upon them, and she caught Hygwyd\nby the hair of his head, and threw him on the floor beneath her.  And\nKacmwri caught her by the hair of her head, and dragged her to the earth\nfrom off Hygwyd, but she turned again upon them both, {114} and drove\nthem both out with kicks and with cuffs.\n\nAnd Arthur was wroth at seeing his two attendants almost slain, and he\nsought to enter the cave; but Gwyn and Gwythyr said unto him, \"It would\nnot be fitting or seemly for us to see thee squabbling with a hag.  Let\nHiramren, and Hireidil go to the cave.\"  So they went.  But if great was\nthe trouble of the two first that went, much greater was that of these\ntwo.  And Heaven knows that not one of the four could move from the spot,\nuntil they placed them all upon Llamrei, Arthur's mare.  And then Arthur\nrushed to the door of the cave, and at the door, he struck at the witch,\nwith Carnwennan his dagger, and clove her in twain, so that she fell in\ntwo parts.  And Kaw, of North Britain, took the blood of the witch and\nkept it.\n\nThen Kilhwch set forward, and Goreu, the son of Custennin, with him, and\nas many as wished ill to Yspaddaden Penkawr.  And they took the marvels\nwith them to his Court.  And Kaw of North Britain came and shaved his\nbeard, skin and flesh, clean off to the very bone from ear to ear.  \"Art\nthou shaved, man?\" said Kilhwch.  \"I am shaved,\" answered he.  \"Is thy\ndaughter mine now?\"  \"She is thine,\" said he, \"but therefore needest thou\nnot thank me, but Arthur who hath accomplished this for thee.  By my free\nwill thou shouldest never have had her, for with her I lose my life.\"\nThen Goreu the son of Custennin, seized him by the hair of his head, and\ndragged him after him to the keep, and cut off his head, and placed it on\na stake on the citadel.  Then they took possession of his castle, and of\nhis treasures.\n\n{Picture: p115.jpg}\n\nAnd that night Olwen became Kilhwch's bride, and she continued to be his\nwife as long as she lived.  And the hosts of Arthur dispersed themselves,\neach man to his own country.  And thus did Kilhwch obtain Olwen the\ndaughter of Yspaddaden Penkawr.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DREAM OF MAXEN WLEDIG.\n\n\n{Picture: p116.jpg}\n\nMaxen Wledig was emperor of Rome, and he was a comelier man, and a better\nand a wiser than any emperor that had been before him. {116}  And one day\nhe held a council of Kings, and he said to his friends, \"I desire to go\nto-morrow to hunt.\"  And the next day in the morning he set forth with\nhis retinue, and came to the valley of the river that flowed towards\nRome.  And he hunted through the valley until mid-day.  And with him also\nwere two and thirty crowned kings, that were his vassals; not for the\ndelight of hunting went the emperor with them, but to put himself on\nequal terms with those kings. {117}\n\nAnd the sun was high in the sky over their heads, and the heat was great.\nAnd sleep came upon Maxen Wledig.  And his attendants stood and set up\ntheir shields around him upon the shafts of their spears to protect him\nfrom the sun, and they placed a gold enamelled shield under his head, and\nso Maxen slept.\n\nAnd he saw a dream.  And this is the dream that he saw.  He was\njourneying along the valley of the river towards its source; and he came\nto the highest mountain in the world.  And he thought that the mountain\nwas as high as the sky; and when he came over the mountain, it seemed to\nhim that he went through the fairest and most level regions that man ever\nyet beheld, on the other side of the mountain.  And he saw large and\nmighty rivers descending from the mountain to the sea, and towards the\nmouths of the rivers he proceeded.  And as he journeyed thus, he came to\nthe mouth of the largest river ever seen.  And he beheld a great city at\nthe entrance of the river, and a vast castle in the city, and he saw many\nhigh towers of various colours in the castle.  And he saw a fleet at the\nmouth of the river, the largest ever seen.  And he saw one ship among the\nfleet; larger was it by far, and fairer than all the others.  Of such\npart of the ship as he could see above the water, one plank was gilded\nand the other silvered over.  He saw a bridge of the bone of the whale\nfrom the ship to the land, and he thought that he went along the bridge\nand came into the ship.  And a sail was hoisted on the ship, and along\nthe sea and the ocean was it borne.  Then it seemed that he came to the\nfairest island in the whole world, and he traversed the island from sea\nto sea, even to the farthest shore of the island.  Valleys he saw, and\nsteeps, and rocks of wondrous height, and rugged precipices. {118a}  Never\nyet saw he the like.  And thence he beheld an island in the sea, facing\nthis rugged {118b} land.  And between him and this island was a country\nof which the plain was as large as the sea, the mountain as vast as the\nwood.  And from the mountain he saw a river that flowed through the land\nand fell into the sea.  And at the mouth of the river, he beheld a\ncastle, the fairest that man ever saw, and the gate of the castle was\nopen, and he went into the castle.  And in the castle he saw a fair hall\nof which the roof seemed to be all gold, the walls of the hall seemed to\nbe entirely of glittering precious gems, the doors all seemed to be of\ngold.  Golden seats he saw in the hall, and silver tables.  And on a seat\nopposite to him, he beheld two auburn-haired youths playing at chess.  He\nsaw a silver board for the chess, and golden pieces thereon.  The\ngarments of the youths were of jet black satin, and chaplets of ruddy\ngold bound their hair, whereon were sparkling jewels of great price,\n{119} rubies, and gems, alternately with imperial stones.  Buskins of new\ncordovan leather on their feet, fastened by slides of red gold.\n\n{Picture: p118.jpg}\n\nAnd beside a pillar in the hall he saw a hoary-headed man, in a chair of\nivory, with the figures of two eagles of ruddy gold thereon.  Bracelets\nof gold were upon his arms, and many rings upon his hands, and a golden\ntorquis about his neck; and his hair was bound with a golden diadem.  He\nwas of powerful aspect.  A chessboard of gold was before him, and a rod\nof gold, and a steel file in his hand.  And he was carving out chessmen.\n\nAnd he saw a maiden sitting before him in a chair of ruddy gold.  Not\nmore easy than to gaze upon the sun when brightest, was it to look upon\nher by reason of her beauty.  A vest of white silk was upon the maiden,\nwith clasps of red gold at the breast; and a surcoat of gold tissue was\nupon her, and a frontlet of red gold upon her head, and rubies and gems\nwere in the frontlet, alternating with pearls and imperial stones.  And a\ngirdle of ruddy gold was around her.  She was the fairest sight that man\never beheld.\n\nThe maiden arose from her chair before him, and he threw his arms about\nthe neck of the maiden, and they two sat down together in the chair of\ngold: and the chair was not less roomy for them both, than for the maiden\nalone.  And as he had his arms about the maiden's neck, and his cheek by\nher cheek, behold, through the chafing of the dogs at their leashing, and\nthe clashing of the shields as they struck against each other, and the\nbeating together of the shafts of the spears, and the neighing of the\nhorses and their prancing, the emperor awoke.\n\nAnd when he awoke, nor spirit nor existence was left him, because of the\nmaiden whom he had seen in his sleep, for the love of the maiden pervaded\nhis whole frame. {120}  Then his household spake unto him.  \"Lord,\" said\nthey \"is it not past the time for thee to take thy food?\"  Thereupon the\nemperor mounted his palfrey, the saddest man that mortal ever saw, and\nwent forth towards Rome.\n\nAnd thus he was during the space of a week.  When they of the household\nwent to drink wine and mead out of golden vessels, he went not with any\nof them.  When they went to listen to songs and tales, he went not with\nthem there; neither could he be persuaded to do anything but sleep.  And\nas often as he slept, he beheld in his dreams the maiden he loved best;\nbut except when he slept he saw nothing of her, for he knew not where in\nthe world she was.\n\nOne day the page of the chamber spake unto him; now, although he was page\nof the chamber, he was king of the Romans.  \"Lord,\" said he, \"all thy\npeople revile thee.\"  \"Wherefore do they revile me?\" asked the emperor.\n\"Because they can get neither message nor answer from thee, as men should\nhave from their lord.  This is the cause why thou art spoken evil of.\"\n\"Youth,\" said the emperor, \"do thou bring unto me the wise men of Rome,\nand I will tell them wherefore I am sorrowful.\"\n\nThen the wise men of Rome were brought to the emperor, and he spake to\nthem.  \"Sages of Rome,\" said he, \"I have seen a dream.  And in the dream\nI beheld a maiden, and because of the maiden is there neither life, nor\nspirit, nor existence within me.\"  \"Lord,\" they answered, \"since thou\njudgest us worthy to counsel thee, we will give thee counsel.  And this\nis our counsel; that thou send messengers for three years to the three\nparts of the world, to seek for thy dream.  And as thou knowest not what\nday or what night good news may come to thee, the hope thereof will\nsupport thee.\"\n\nSo the messengers journeyed for the space of a year wandering about the\nworld, and seeking tidings concerning his dream.  But when they came back\nat the end of the year they knew not one word more than they did the day\nthey set forth.  And then was the emperor exceeding sorrowful, for he\nthought that he should never have tidings of her whom best he loved.\n\nThen spoke the king of the Romans unto the emperor.  \"Lord,\" said he, \"go\nforth to hunt by the way that thou didst seem to go, whither it were to\nthe east or to the west.\"  So the emperor went forth to hunt, and he came\nto the bank of the river.  \"Behold,\" said he, \"this is where I was when I\nsaw the dream, and I went towards the source of the river westward.\"\n\nAnd thereupon thirteen messengers of the emperor's set forth, and before\nthem they saw a high mountain, which seemed to them to touch the sky.  Now\nthis was the guise in which the messengers journeyed; one sleeve was on\nthe cap of each of them in front; as a sign that they were messengers, in\norder that through what hostile land soever they might pass no harm might\nbe done them.  And when they were come over this mountain they beheld\nvast plains, and large rivers flowing therethrough.  \"Behold,\" said they,\n\"the land which our master saw.\"\n\nAnd they went along the mouths of the rivers, until they came to the\nmighty river which they saw flowing to the sea, and the vast city, and\nthe many-coloured high towers in the castle.  They saw the largest fleet\nin the world, in the harbour of the river, and one ship that was larger\nthan any of the others.  \"Behold again,\" said they, \"the dream that our\nmaster saw.\"  And in the great ship they crossed the sea, and came to the\nIsland of Britain.  And they traversed the island until they came to\nSnowdon.  \"Behold,\" said they, \"the rugged {122} land that our master\nsaw.\"  And they went forward until they saw Anglesey before them, and\nuntil they saw Arvon likewise.  \"Behold,\" said they, \"the land our master\nsaw in his sleep.\"  And they saw Aber Sain, and a castle at the mouth of\nthe river.  The portal of the castle saw they open, and into the castle\nthey went, and they saw a hall in the castle.  Then said they, \"Behold\nthe hall which he saw in his sleep.\"\n\nThey went into the hall, and they beheld two youths playing at chess on\nthe golden bench.  And they beheld the hoary-headed man beside the\npillar, in the ivory chair, carving chessmen.  And they beheld the maiden\nsitting on a chair of ruddy gold.\n\nThe messengers bent down upon their knees.  \"Empress of Rome, all hail!\"\n\"Ha, gentles,\" said the maiden, \"ye bear the seeming of honourable men,\nand the badge of envoys, what mockery is this ye do to me?\"  \"We mock\nthee not, lady, but the emperor of Rome hath seen thee in his sleep, and\nhe has neither life nor spirit left because of thee.  Thou shall have of\nus therefore the choice, lady, whether thou wilt go with us and be made\nempress of Rome, or that the emperor come hither and take thee for his\nwife?\"  \"Ha, lords,\" said the maiden, \"I will not deny what you say,\nneither will I believe it too well.  If the emperor love me, let him come\nhere to seek me.\"\n\nAnd by day and night the messengers hied them back.  And when their\nhorses failed, they bought other fresh ones.  And when they came to Rome\nthey saluted the emperor, and asked their boon, which was given to them\naccording as they named it.  \"We will be thy guides, lord,\" said they,\n\"over sea and over land, to the place where is the woman whom best thou\nlovest, for we know her name, and her kindred, and her race.\"\n\n{Picture: p123.jpg}\n\nAnd immediately the emperor set forth with his army.  And these men were\nhis guides.  Towards the Island of Britain they went over the sea and the\ndeep.  And he conquered the Island from Beli the son of Manogan, and his\nsons, and drove them to the sea, and went forward even unto Arvon.  And\nthe emperor knew the land when he saw it.  And when he beheld the castle\nof Aber Sain, \"Look yonder,\" said he, \"there is the castle wherein I saw\nthe damsel whom I best love.\"  And he went forward into the castle and\ninto the hall, and there he saw Kynan the son of Eudav, and Adeon the son\nof Eudav, playing at chess.  And he saw Eudav the son of Caradawc,\nsitting on a chair of ivory carving chessmen.  And the maiden whom he had\nbeheld in his sleep, he saw sitting on a chair of gold.  \"Empress of\nRome,\" said he, \"all hail!\"  And the emperor threw his arms about her\nneck; and that night she became his bride.\n\nAnd the next day in the morning, the damsel asked her maiden portion.  And\nhe told her to name what she would, and she asked to have the Island of\nBritain for her father, from the Channel to the Irish Sea, together with\nthe three adjacent islands to hold under the empress of Rome; and to have\nthree chief castles made for her, in whatever places she might choose in\nthe Island of Britain.  And she chose to have the highest castle made at\nArvon.  And they brought thither earth from Rome that it might be more\nhealthful for the emperor to sleep, and sit, and walk upon.  After that\nthe two other castles were made for her, which were Caerlleon and\nCaermarthen.\n\nAnd one day, the emperor went to hunt at Caermarthen, and he came so far\nas the top of Brevi Vawr, and there the emperor pitched his tent.  And\nthat encamping place is called Cadeir Maxen, even to this day.  And\nbecause that he built the castle with a myriad of men, he called it\nCaervyrddin.  Then Helen bethought her to make high roads from one castle\nto another throughout the Island of Britain.  And the roads were made.\nAnd for this cause are they called the roads of Helen Luyddawc, {124}\nthat she was sprung from a native of this island, and the men of the\nIsland of Britain would not have made these great roads {125} for any\nsave for her.\n\nSeven years did the emperor tarry in this Island.  Now, at that time, the\nmen of Rome had a custom that whatsoever emperor should remain in other\nlands more than seven years, should remain to his own overthrow, and\nshould never return to Rome again.\n\nSo they made a new emperor.  And this one wrote a letter of threat to\nMaxen.  There was nought in the letter but only this, \"If thou comest,\nand if thou ever comest to Rome.\"  And even unto Caerlleon came this\nletter to Maxen, and these tidings.  Then sent he a letter to the man who\nstyled himself emperor in Rome.  There was nought in that letter also but\nonly this, \"If I come to Rome, and if I come.\"\n\nAnd thereupon Maxen set forth towards Rome with his army, and vanquished\nFrance and Burgundy, and every land on the way, and sat down before the\ncity of Rome.\n\nA year was the emperor before the city, and he was no nearer taking it\nthan the first day.  And after him there came the brothers of Helen\nLuyddawc from the Island of Britain, and a small host with them, and\nbetter warriors were in that small host than twice as many Romans.  And\nthe emperor was told that a host was seen, halting close to his army and\nencamping, and no man ever saw a fairer or better appointed host for its\nsize, nor more handsome standards.\n\nAnd Helen went to see the hosts, and she knew the standards of her\nbrothers.  Then came Kynan the son of Eudav, and Adeon the son of Eudav,\nto meet the emperor.  And the emperor was glad because of them, and\nembraced them.\n\nThen they looked at the Romans as they attacked the city.  Said Kynan to\nhis brother, \"We will try to attack the city more expertly than this.\"  So\nthey measured by night the height of the wall, and they sent their\ncarpenters to the wood, and a ladder was made for every four men of their\nnumber.  Now when these were ready, every day at mid-day the emperors\nwent to meat, and they ceased to fight on both sides till all had\nfinished eating.  And in the morning the men of Britain took their food,\nand they drank until they were invigorated.  And while the two emperors\nwere at meat, the Britons came to the city, {126a} and placed their\nladders against it, and forthwith they came in through the city.\n\nThe new emperor had not time to arm himself when they fell upon him, and\nslew him and many others with him.  And three nights and three days were\nthey subduing the men that were in the city and taking the castle.  And\nothers of them kept the city, lest any of the host of Maxen should come\ntherein, until they had subjected all to their will.\n\nThen spake Maxen to Helen Luyddawc, \"I marvel, lady,\" said he, \"that thy\nbrothers have not conquered this city for me.\" {126b}  \"Lord, emperor,\"\nshe answered, \"the wisest youths in the world are my brothers.  Go thou\nthither and ask the city of them, and if it be in their possession thou\nshalt have it gladly.\"  So the emperor and Helen went and demanded the\ncity.  And they told the emperor that none had taken the city, and that\nnone could give it him, but the men of the Island of Britain.  Then the\ngates of the city of Rome were opened, and the emperor sat on the throne\nand all the men of Rome submitted themselves unto him.\n\nThe emperor then said unto Kynan and Adeon, \"Lords,\" said he, \"I have now\nhad possession of the whole of my empire.  This host give I unto you to\nvanquish whatever region ye may desire in the world.\"\n\nSo they set forth and conquered lands, and castles and cities.  And they\nslew all the men, but the women they kept alive.  And thus they continued\nuntil the young men that had come with them were grown grey headed, from\nthe length of time they were upon this conquest.\n\n{Picture: p127.jpg}\n\nThen spoke Kynan unto Adeon his brother, \"Whether wilt thou rather,\" said\nhe, \"tarry in this land, or go back into the land whence thou didst come\nforth?\"  Now he chose to go back to his own land and many with him.  But\nKynan tarried there with the other part, and dwelt there.\n\nAnd they took counsel and cut out the tongues of the women, lest they\nshould corrupt their speech.  And because of the silence of the women\nfrom their own speech, the men of Armorica are called Britons.  From that\ntime there came frequently, and still comes, that language from the\nIsland of Britain.\n\nAnd this tale is called the Dream of Maxen Wledig, emperor of Rome.  And\nhere it ends.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n{7a}  Add \"successively.\"\n\n{7b}  And he summoned to him.\n\n{10}  Add \"bespattered.\"\n\n{11}  And it may be that I shall have as much entertainment on account of\nthe hunting as they.\n\n{15}  Good Sir.\n\n{17}   There.\n\n{19}  And his words reached Geraint.\n\n{22}  As thou art impartial concerning the question of right between us.\n\n{27}  More probably \"though.\"  The ambiguity of the original would be\nbest expressed by \"while.\"\n\n{36a}  \"Lest he should be overtaken by a piteous death.\"\n\n{36b}  \"Thine I do not consider a protection, nor thy warning a warning.\"\n\n{38}  \"Wilt thou not at last be silent?  Thy protection do I not consider\nsuch.\"\n\n{39}  \"I declare to Heaven,\" said he, \"that thy protection I do not\nregard as such.  Hold thy peace, at last.\"\n\n{40}  He spoke not a word, being angry.\n\n{47a}  \"Do thou not go to his land beyond the bridge.\"\n\n{47b}  \"I will go my way in spite of the one thou speakest of.\"\n\n{48a}  In a very rough and bitter manner.\n\n{48b}  Gereint took the road that he had meant to take; it was not the\nroad that led to the town from the bridge that he took, but the road that\nled to the ground that was hard, and rugged, and high, and ridgy.\n\n{49}  But it was unfair for Gereint to have to fight him, so small was\nhe, and so difficult to take aim at, and so hard were the blows he gave.\nAnd they did not end that part of their fight until their horses fell\ndown on their knees.\n\n{53}  \"To complete thy death.\"\n\n{64}  And what she did was to call her tutor to her, and she commanded\nhim to dress her grave every year in such a way that nothing would grow\non it.\n\n{66}  And there were two silver spears, sharpened, in his hand.  A\nprince's glaive was in his hand, a cubit from hilt to edge, that would\ndraw blood from the wind; swifter was it than.\n\n{67}  Yes.  And as for thee, thy head is not under thy control; curt is\nthy greeting.\n\n{70a}  Carnwenhan.\n\n{70b}  Dress.\n\n{71a}  Galldovydd.\n\n{71b}  Cnychwr.\n\n{71c}  And Adwy.\n\n{71d}  Annwas.\n\n{71e}  Sinoit.\n\n{72a}  Ysperin.\n\n{72b}  Erinit.\n\n{74a}  Llenuleawc.\n\n{74b}  Gwrdival.\n\n{74c}  Kai was said to be his son.\n\n{75a}  Add, \"And from him is Paris named.\"\n\n{75b}  Gweir, son of Cadellin Talaryant (Cadellin of the silver brow).\n\n{76a}  His flat breast was ruddy.\n\n{77a}  Hwyrdyddwc, Drwgdyddwc, and Llwyrdyddwc.\n\n{77b}  Cethtrwm.\n\n{78a}  Gweirdathar Wenidawc.\n\n{78b}  Canhwch.\n\n{78c}  Arwy.\n\n{81a}  \"We all of us will come there,\" said Kai.\n\n{81b}  This dialogue consists of a series of repartees, with a play upon\nwords which it is impossible to follow in the translation.\n\n{82}  \"Oh man, since the sea does not allow a beautiful dead man in it,\nshow me that dead body.\"  \"Oh woman, the one to whom the dead body\nbelongs thou wilt see here this evening.\"\n\n{84a}  \"I promise all this, and will obtain it,\" said he.\n\n{84b}  \"Where are my bad servants and my knaves?\"\n\n{85a}  Knee-pan.\n\n{87}  The two oxen of Gwlwlwyd Wineu.\n\n{89}  The harp of Teirtu to console me that night.\n\n{92}  Garselit Wyddel.\n\n{93}  Moro Oerveddawc.\n\n{98a}  And what he and his companions with him did was this--they crossed\nthe three wards until he was within the fortress.\n\n{98b}  Glini.\n\n{99a}  Glini.\n\n{99b}  Add \"some of.\"\n\n{100}  There was but one horn on each side of my head, and there were no\ntrees here except one oak sapling.\n\n{102}  And they proceeded until they came to the wall opposite to where\nthe prisoner was, where they heard lamentations and groaning on the other\nside of the wall.\n\n{103}  And it was piteous to hear them.  And he hastened to the place.\n\n{105}  Dyvnarth.\n\n{108a}  Hosts of Ireland.\n\n{108b}  And when all the hosts had fled, Arthur and his men went to their\nship in their sight, carrying with them the cauldron full of Irish money.\n\n{108c}  Llwyddeu.\n\n{109}  And he only killed one of his young pigs.\n\n{110}  Add \"same night Arthur.\"\n\n{111a}  Aber Tywi.\n\n{111b}  Kynlas.\n\n{111c}  And ever since they had crossed the Irish Sea, he had not\nappeared to them until then.\n\n{112a}  And there was killed a young boar from among his pigs.\n\n{112b}  And there was killed a young boar and a young sow.\n\n{114}  But she turned again upon Kacmwri; she beat both men soundly,\ndisarmed them, and drove them out.\n\n{116}  Maxen Wledig was an emperor at Rome.  And the comeliest man was\nhe, and the wisest, and the one that was most fit to be an emperor, of\nall that had been before him.\n\n{117}  Not for the delight of hunting went the emperor so far as that,\nbut to make himself such a man that he would be lord over those kings.\n\n{118a}  Valleys he saw, and precipices, and wondrous high rocks, and a\nrugged, waterless land.\n\n{118b}  Barren.\n\n{119}  Sparkling jewels laboriously wrought.\n\n{120}  There was no joint of his bones, or cavity of his nails, not to\nspeak of anything larger than these, that was not full of the maiden's\nlove.\n\n{122}  Waterless.\n\n{124}  Helen of the Legions.\n\n{125}  Legions.\n\n{126a}  Over the wall into the city.\n\n{126b}  That it was not for me that thy brothers conquered the city.","title":"The Mabinogion Vol. 2","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":37363}