{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_67425/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_67425","id":"gutenberg_67425","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67425","summary":null,"tags":["Arthur, King -- Legends","Arthurian romances -- Adaptations","Category: Adventure","Category: British Literature","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore -- Wales","Knights and knighthood -- Folklore","Tales -- Wales -- Adaptations"],"text":"KNIGHTLY LEGENDS\n                              _of Wales_\n\n                                  OR\n\n                         THE BOY'S MABINOGION\n\n             BEING THE EARLIEST WELSH TALES OF KING ARTHUR\n                   IN THE FAMOUS RED BOOK OF HERGEST\n\n                _EDITED FOR BOYS WITH AN INTRODUCTION_\n\n                                  BY\n                             SIDNEY LANIER\n\n      EDITOR OF \"THE BOY'S FROISSART\" AND \"THE BOY'S KING ARTHUR\"\n\n                   _Illustrated by Alfred Frederick_\n\n                               NEW YORK\n                        CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS\n                                 1932\n\n                       COPYRIGHT, 1881, 1884, BY\n                        CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS\n\n                       COPYRIGHT, 1909, 1912, BY\n                            MARY D. LANIER\n\n                Printed in the United States of America\n\n              _All rights reserved. No part of this book\n                 may be reproduced in any form without\n              the permission of Charles Scribner's Sons_\n\n\n[Illustration: Kai and His Companions at the Castle of the Giant Gwrnach]\n\n\n\n\n                             INTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIn the library of Jesus College, Oxford, is an ancient Welsh MS. called\n_Llyfr[1] Coch[2] O Hergest_;[3] that is, _The Red Book of Hergest_.\nThis MS. was written in the fourteenth century, though some of the\ncompositions which it has collected are of a much earlier date. It\ncontains a number of poems, together with a body of prose romances\ncalled _Mabinogion_.[4]\n\n[Footnote 1: \"Llyfr\" means _book_ (compare French _livre_, Latin\n_liber_). Perhaps I can partially indicate the impression which\nthe word makes upon an English ear when pronounced in Welsh, thus:\nconsider it composed of two syllables, _Lly_ and _fr_; for the first\nsyllable reproduce the sound of _yie_ in the English word _yield_ with\na strongly lisped or aspirated _l_ before it, and mingled with it, as\n_lhyie_, for the second, give the sound of _vre_ in the French word\n_livre_; making _lhyie-vre_, accent on the first syllable.]\n\n[Footnote 2: _Red._ Pronounced _Koch_, with the _ch_ very guttural as\nin the Scotch _loch_ or the German _ach_, and the _o_ long.]\n\n[Footnote 3: _Hergest_ has the _g_ hard, as in English _begin_.]\n\n[Footnote 4: Pronounced with accent on _o_, which is long and somewhat\ndrawled; the _a_, as in _man_; the _i_'s short; and the _g_ hard, as in\n_give_; about _Mab-bin-o\u00b4-gi-on_. \"Mabinogion\" is the plural form: the\nsingular is \"Mabinogi.\"]\n\nIn the year 1838 Lady Charlotte Guest published a translation of\nthese Mabinogion, accompanied by the text of their Welsh originals\nand a mass of useful and scholarly notes. Her work bore this gracious\ndedication:--\n\n    TO IVOR AND MERTHYR.\n\n    MY DEAR CHILDREN,--Infants as you yet are, I feel that I\n    cannot dedicate more fitly than to you these venerable relics of\n    ancient lore, and I do so in the hope of inciting you to cultivate\n    the Literature of \"Gwyllt Walia,\" in whose beautiful language you\n    are being initiated, and amongst whose free mountains you were born.\n\n    May you become early imbued with the chivalric and exalted sense of\n    honor, and the fervent patriotism for which its sons have ever been\n    celebrated.\n\n    May you learn to emulate the noble qualities of Ivor Hael, and the\n    firm attachment to your native country which distinguished that\n    Ivor Bach, after whom the elder of you was named.\n\n                                         I am your affectionate mother,\n                                                           C. E. GUEST.\n\n                                                DOWLAIS, Aug. 29, 1838.\n\nSeveral considerations made me strongly desire to re-edit, upon the\nsame plan with _The Boy's Froissart_ and _The Boy's King Arthur_,\nthe curious old products of Welsh fancy thus rendered available to\nscholars. The intrinsic charm of the stories themselves in the first\nplace would easily have secured them a position in this series. Though\nnot so rich as the _Arabian Nights_, they are more vigorous, and\ntheir fascination is of a more manful quality. Moreover, they are in\ncomparison open-air tales, and do not move in that close, and, if one\ncould think such a thing, gas-poisoned, temperature which often renders\nthe atmosphere of the Eastern tales extremely unwholesome.\n\nBut in the second place the Mabinogion all centre, in one way or\nanother, about the court of King Arthur, and present us with views of\nthe domestic life going on in King Arthur's palace, as well as of the\nwild adventures of his warriors, which were conceived at a very much\nearlier and ruder period than that of Sir Thomas Malory's book; so that\nthis collection of the earliest Arthurian legends seemed to make a\npeculiarly happy companion-book to _The Boy's King Arthur_, which was\nlast published in this series. Indeed, it is probable that in these\nMabinogion here following we have the original germs of that great\ngrowth of Arthurian romances which overspread Europe after Geoffrey of\nMonmouth published his _History of the Britons_, and of which I gave\nsome account in the Introduction to _The Boy's King Arthur_. Readers\nof that Introduction will remember the statement there given, in which\nGeoffrey of Monmouth himself declares that his main material consisted\nof a Welsh book given him by a certain person since supposed to be\nWalter Map (or Mapes). Although several of the following Mabinogion\nhave probably received additions from foreign sources in the course\nof time--an original Welsh story, for example, would be carried by\nsome traveller into other parts of Europe, would there be retold with\nadditions and variations, would find its way back in the new form to\nWales, and thus re-appear after a while in Welsh collections; yet\nothers are in a nearly pure state. In order to bring these two classes\ninto striking contrast, and to show how much a foreign admixture of\nthis kind might smooth down the grotesque ruggedness of its Welsh\noriginal, I have changed the order of the Mabinogion as given in Lady\nGuest's arrangement, and have placed the story of _Kilhwch and Olwen_,\nwhich is almost hideous in many of its huge fancies and distortions\nand is pure Welsh, immediately next to the story of _The Lady of the\nFountain_, whose daintiness, luxury, black savages, and the like,\nseem here and there to indicate foreign touches. The general tone and\nessential spirit, however, of the whole, are distinctly Welsh, and\nold Welsh. I think it curious indeed to note _how_ curious those old\nromances, or Mabinogion, seem to us in spite of the long intimacy and\nnearness between Welsh and English. They impress most readers with a\ngreater sense of foreignness, of a wholly different cultus, than even\nChinese or other antipodal tales; and over and above this there is a\nglamour and sleep-walking mystery which often incline a man to rub his\neyes in the midst of a Mabinogi, and to think of previous states of\nexistence.\n\nIt is another feature of this same difference between Welsh and English\nmodes of thought which forms a third, and to me the most weighty,\nreason for bringing these Mabinogion before my young countrymen at\nthis particular time. I can illustrate this difference most vividly\nby asking you to consider the following group of Welsh conceits and\nnotions which I have assembled from various sources, upon the single\nthread of their likeness in extravagance, in wildness beyond all\ntolerance of reason, in lawlessness. Of course they are not to be\ntaken as ordinary representative specimens; and I shall presently\ncounterbalance them with some very beautiful, moderate, and wise\nexamples of Welsh art. But they unquestionably show a tendency so\ncharacteristic as to be easily traceable.\n\nTake, for instance, the following story concerning the famous mantle\nof King Ryence. Readers of _King Arthur_ will remember the young\nsovereign's manful defiance, when, soon after his elevation to the\nthrone, a messenger came from King Ryence demanding King Arthur's\nbeard (though, indeed, he must have been too young to have one) to\ncomplete a mantle which King Ryence was purfling (_bordering_) with\nkings' beards,--a demand which Arthur pronounced \"the most villainous\nand lewdest message that ever man heard sent to a king.\" The following\nversion shows what prodigiously different forms the same narrative may\nassume.\n\nOnce upon a time two kings of Old Britain were walking together at\nnight. Their names were Nynniaw and Peibiaw.\n\n\"See,\" said Nynniaw, \"what a beautiful and large field I own!\"\n\n\"Where is it?\" said Peibiaw.\n\n\"The whole firmament,\" said Nynniaw.\n\n\"And do thou see,\" said Peibiaw, \"what countless herds of cattle and\nsheep _I_ have, feeding in thy field!\"\n\n\"Where are they?\" said Nynniaw.\n\n\"Why, all the stars which thou seest,\" replied Peibiaw, \"with the moon\nfor their shepherdess.\"\n\n\"They shall not graze in my pasture,\" said Nynniaw.\n\n\"They _shall_,\" said Peibiaw.\n\n\"They shall _not_,\" cried Nynniaw.\n\nAnd then words arose between these two kings so bitter that they\nsummoned their soldiers and fell to war wherein they continued until\nthe armies of both were nearly destroyed. Seeing that such was the\nfact, Rhitta the giant, King of Wales (who is Sir Thomas Malory's\nKing Ryens of North Wales), levied war against both, as being madmen\ndangerous to all their neighbors; and, having defeated their forces, he\ncut off the beards of kings Nynniaw and Peibiaw. But at this time there\nwere twenty-eight kings in the Island of Britain, and when the others\nheard of these things, they marched all together against King Rhitta to\navenge the insult of the beard. In the battle which followed, however,\nRhitta was again victor. \"This field is mine,\" said he, and cut off the\nbeards of _those_ kings. These matters being told abroad, the kings of\nall the surrounding countries made common cause against Rhitta, and\npresently waged a great battle with him. Still, Rhitta conquered all\nthese. \"The great field is mine,\" he said again; \"and,\" cutting off all\ntheir beards, \"these are the herds that fed in my field; but I have\ndriven them out.\" Then he made a mantle for himself out of all those\nbeards, and although he was a giant twice as large as the largest man\never known, that mantle reached from his head to his heels.\n\nOr take the exactions of a certain messenger called \"The Little\nPeacock\" (_Y Paun Bach_), who was sent by a certain David, Prince of\nNorth Wales, to fetch Gwgan (_Googan_, nearly) the bard to court. After\na long journey, towards the close of the evening the Little Peacock\nheard sounds of the tuning of a harp from a house in a wooded valley\nwhere he had arrived. \"The style of playing and the modulation\" led\nhim to suspect that this was Gwgan's house; and in order to be sure\nhe advances and pours forth a high-flown speech to Gwgan, who replies\nin the like lofty vein, finally inquiring what he would have. \"I want\nlodging,\" quoth Y Paun Bach, \"for to-night ... and that not better than\nI know how to ask for.... A lightsome hall, floored with tile, and\nswept, in which there has been neither flood nor raindrop for the last\nhundred years, dressed with fresh green rushes, laid so evenly that one\nrush be not higher than the other the height of a gnat's eye, so that\nmy foot should not slip either backward or forward the space of a mote\nin the sunshine of June;\" together with similar superb requirements as\nto the cushion beneath him, the pillow under each elbow, the fire, the\nsupper, the servants' livery, and the quantity of his ale.\n\nOr this itemized account of a monster, which, though not Welsh, is\nG\u00e6lic, and shows the general Keltic proclivity. \"... they saw a couple\napproaching them,--a woman and a man; larger than the summit of ... a\nmountain was each ... of their members; sharper than a shaving-knife\nthe edge of their shins; their heels and hams [were] in front of them;\nshould a sackful of apples be thrown on their heads not one of them\nwould fall to the ground, but would stick on the points of the strong,\nbristly hair which grew out of their heads; ... whiter than snow their\neyes; a lock of the lower beard was carried round the back of the head,\nand a lock of the upper beard descended so as to cover the knees; the\nwoman had whiskers, but the man was without whiskers.\"\n\nOr the King Yspaddaden Penkawr, in the following story of _Kilhwch and\nOlwen_, whose eyebrows hung over his eyes to such a degree that they\nhad to be propped up with forks; as well as the amazing qualifications\nof King Arthur's warriors, detailed in the same story,--such as of him\nwhose dagger was so broad that King Arthur's army was accustomed to use\nit for a bridge in passing rivers; or him who could hear the touch of\na gnat's foot on the ground at a great distance, or of him who could\nsee a mote in a sunbeam at either of the four corners of the earth,\nor him whose red beard lay completely along the twenty-eight rafters\nof the king's hall, or of him whose lips were so large that he was\naccustomed to draw the lower down for an apron and to lift up the other\nfor a hood; and others still more marvellously absurd. If we compare\nthese with the wildest flights in Malory's _King Arthur_, nothing\ncan be clearer than the constant presence in the latter of a certain\nreasonable restraint, a sober proportion, a sense of the supreme value\nof law, even in the most apparently lawless excursions. It would be\ngoing far beyond proper bounds to discuss here how this subtle feeling\nfor the beauty of restraint, this underlying perception of the artistic\nnecessity of law and order, has quietly reigned, not only over the\nadvance of English literature, but has been also the moving spirit, the\nperpetual King Alfred, of the whole of English development in general.\nAnd, as hinted, I have thought this consideration particularly forcible\nat the present moment in our own country, where the making of statutes\nincreases in exact proportion to the decrease in the popular esteem for\nthem. Daily and endlessly our Legislatures multiply laws and murder\nLaw. But--may I not add, if only as one of those utterances which a boy\nsometimes profitably remembers, though at first dimly understood--the\nlove of Law beyond all laws would seem to be particularly vital in a\nrepublic; being a principle so comprehensive, that at one extreme,\nin contact with certain tendencies, it flowers into that sense of\nproportion, of the due relation of all parts of the universe to the\nwhole, which is the artist's largest perception of beauty, and is the\nmain outfit of genius in constructing Mabinogion, in literature, in all\nart; while at the other extreme, working with certain other tendencies\nof character, the same love of Law is at once the root of decorous\nbehavior on the part of the private citizen, and of large statesmanship\non the part of the public official.\n\nBut while this danger of extravagance certainly exists in the products\nof Welsh fancy, they possess many qualities which have wrought with\nfine influence upon general English life and literature. Among the\noldest remains of Welsh poetic wisdom that have come down to us are\nwhat were called _The Triads_, in which wise aphorisms and sayings are\neffectively grouped together by threes. The four following examples of\nthis form of composition show an insight and breadth which render them\ninstructive to the wisest readers of our own time.\n\n                                  I.\n    The three qualifications of poetry: Endowment of genius, judgment\n    from experience, and happiness of mind.\n\n                                  II.\n    The three primary requisites of genius: An eye that can see nature,\n    a heart that can feel nature, and boldness that dares follow nature.\n\n                                 III.\n    The three foundations of judgment: Bold design, constant practice,\n    and frequent mistakes.\n\n                                  IV.\n\n    The three foundations of learning: Seeing much, suffering much, and\n    studying much.\n\nIt would be difficult to find more wisdom in fewer words, or loftier\nthought in simpler terms; and any young reader of _The Mabinogion_ will\nhave done a good day's work if he will commit these words so thoroughly\nthat they will say themselves over to him, day by day, as a noble and\nfruitful formula, alike stimulating in every line of life, from the\nploughman's to the president's. Among the Welsh, indeed, as far back\nas history can pierce, we find an almost adoring reverence for the\npoet. To assume the function of a bard is to assume the function of the\nwisest man and best teacher in society; and therefore the utmost pains\nare taken with the young bard's education, and he is held bound to know\nall that can be known. One supreme name stands out among ancient Welsh\nbards, which I will ask you to remember in this connection. This is\nTALIESIN, whose name signifies \"Shining Brow.\" He is the hero\nof one of the following Mabinogion which bears his name for a title.\nSome specimens of his poetry will there be found; and a few facts as\nto his life are added in a footnote. The poet of next rank to him is\nperhaps Llywarch Hen, who, as well as Taliesin, belongs to the sixth\ncentury. The word \"Hen\" means _old_; and \"Old Llywarch\" seems a sort of\nexpression of endearment. This is a specimen of his more pathetic song.\nHis youngest son, Gwenn, had been slain in battle.\n\n    \"Let the wave break noisily: let it cover the shore when the joined\n    lances are in battle.... Let the wave break noisily: let it cover\n    the plain when the lances join with a shock.... Gwenn has been\n    slain at the ford of Morlas.... Here is the tomb of Gwenn, the son\n    of the old Llywarch. Sweetly a bird sang on a pear-tree above the\n    head of Gwenn, before they covered him with turf: that broke the\n    heart of the old Llywarch.\"\n\nI wish there were time to speak of Aneurin, the battle-singer; or to\ngive the curious triad published among the Iolo Manuscripts, describing\n\"The Nine Impulsive Stocks of the Baptismal Bards of Britain\"; or to\ncite some brief beauties of still less-known poets,--such as the wild\nHebrew outcry of the King Gwyddno Garanhir, which swept over the waste\nfloods covering his plains and cities after the total destruction of\nhis kingdom by the sea through the drunkenness of Seithenin, who had\nbeen left to watch the embankment on a night of revelry,--\n\n    \"Stand forth, Seithenin, and behold the dwelling of heroes,--the\n       plain of Gwyddno the ocean covers!\n    Accursed be the sea guard, who after his carousal let loose the\n       destroying fountain of the raging deep.\n    Accursed be the watcher, who after his drunken revelry loosed the\n       fountain of the desolating sea.\n    A cry from the sea arises above the ramparts; even to heaven does\n       its ascend,--after the fierce excess comes the long cessation!\n    A cry from the sea ascends above the ramparts; even to heaven does\n       the supplication come!--after the excess there ensues restraint!\n    A cry from the sea awakens me this night!--\n    A cry from the sea arises above the winds!\n    A cry from the sea impels me from my place of rest this night!\n    After excess comes the far extending death!\"\n\n--or as the saying of Heinin Vardd, preserved in the fragment,--\n\n    \"Hast thou heard the saying of Heinin,\n    The Bard of the college of Llanveithan?\n    _The brave is never cruel._\"\n\nIn this connection I will ask you to notice also the intense feeling\nfor color, which, in some of the following Mabinogion, spreads an\nalmost Oriental luxuriance of tint over the scenes. _The Lady of\nthe Fountain_ (the first Mabinogi of the following collection), for\nexample, shows us King Arthur reclining upon green rushes, with a\ncushion of red satin under his elbow, Guenever and her ladies grouped\nat the other end of the hall, mantles of flame-colored satin, gilded\nbows, gold-headed arrows winged with peacocks' feathers, gold-banded\ngarments, shoes of variegated leather, twenty-four youths with golden\nhair, rooms with all the panels painted in gorgeous colors, the\ncoal-black savage, white whalebone (ivory of the narwhal's tooth,\nprobably), and the like. Or we have a quaint extravagant scene like\nthat in the Mabinogi of _Peredur_ (the modern Percival of the Arthur\nseries): where, upon a certain occasion, Peredur was observed with his\neyes fixed upon a certain spot, sunken in deep meditation. All attempts\nto get his attention failed; he was cuffed, boxed, even overthrown;\nuntil, after a final catastrophe (for which see the story), Peredur\nexplains that he is studying certain effects of color produced by the\nfollowing circumstances; after spending the night in a hermit's cell,\n\"in the morning he arose, and, when he went forth, behold a shower of\nsnow had fallen the night before, and a hawk had killed a wild fowl in\nfront of the cell, and the noise of the horse scared the hawk away, and\na raven alighted upon the bird. And Peredur stood and compared the\nblackness of the raven, and the whiteness of the snow, and the redness\nof the blood, to the hair of the lady that best he loved, which was\nblacker than jet, and to her skin, which was whiter than snow, and to\nthe two red spots upon her cheeks, which were redder than the blood\nupon the snow appeared to be.\"\n\nThe glowing picture of the young knight starting for Arthur's court in\n_Kilhwch and Olwen_; the dainty composition of the maiden Blodeuwedd,\nwho was constructed by magic out of certain flowers in order to be a\nbride for Gwyddion, who was cursed by Arianrod with the curse that he\nshould never have a wife of the present human race,--these and many\nsimilar bright-colored passages in the Mabinogion will strike the most\ncursory reader in confirmation of the feeling for color alleged. While\nI am scarcely prepared to attribute so much weight to any foreign\nelement as to agree with Mr. Henry Morley in believing that but for the\nKeltic influence England would not have produced a Shakespere; or with\nMr. Matthew Arnold, that English poetry got nearly all its turn for\ncatching and rendering the charm of nature in a wonderfully near and\nvivid way, beside possibly other qualities, from a Keltic source: yet\nI think we can safely say that our literature has certainly enriched\nitself with Bard's wisdom, has certainly warmed itself with the fire\nand color of Keltic fancy, and has perhaps spiritualized its feeling\nfor nature with that subtle wood-loneliness which Mr. Arnold calls \"the\nnatural magic\" of the Kelt.\n\nThe Welsh proper names are apt to make such an uncouth impression\nupon those unacquainted with their true sounds, that perhaps the most\nhelpful matter to which I can devote the brief remainder of this\nIntroduction is the pronunciation of Welsh. The following rules,\nin which of course all attempt at minute accuracy is sacrificed to\nbrevity, and only approximate sounds are aimed at, will at least result\nin showing such names to be often musical and pleasing, even to the\nEnglish ear. The letters which cause most perplexity are _w_, _ll_,\n_y_, and _ch_. _W_ is usually sounded like _oo_ in _pool_, as already\nexplained under the name \"Kilhwch,\" pronounced _Kilhooch_; though where\nit precedes a vowel this sound (_oo_) of course practically becomes\nthe English consonantal _w_; for example, _oo-et_, rapidly pronounced,\nwould merge into _wet_; and so in \"Llywarch\" or \"Gwyddion,\" the _w_\nbefore the _a_ or _y_ may be considered as having simply the force\nof the English _w_. Y, if long, is like German _\u00fc_, or French _u_ in\n_une_; nearly English _ee_ in _seen_. _Y_ short, much like our short\n_u_, except in the last syllable of words, where it is more like our\nshort _i_. Ll is like Spanish _ll_ in _llanos_, but with an aspirated\nsound made by forcing the breath through the back teeth so vigorously\nas to impress the English ear with the sound of a strongly-lisped _s_.\nIf the organs be arranged so as to pronounce the _y_ in _yield_, and\nthe sound _lh_ vigorously forced upon that position, something like\nWelsh _ll_ results. _Ch_ is guttural, as in Scotch _loch_, German\n_ach_. The vowels _a_, _e_, _i_, mostly occur in the following names\nas short English _a_, _e_, _i_; _o_, as long _o_; and _u_, as a rapidly\npronounced French _u_. The often occurring _aw_ is like _ou_ in English\n_our_, or German _au_ in _haus_. _Dd_ is nearly _th_ in _then_, only\nwith more of _d_ than _t_ blended with the _h_ sound. _C_ is always\n_k_, _Cynon_ equals _Kynon_; there is no soft _c_ in Welsh. _F_ is\nalways _v_; it is only _ff_ which sounds like our _f_ in _fan_. _G_\nalways hard, as in _get_. _Th_ as in English _thanks_; never as in\n_then_.\n\nAll other letters may be sounded as in English. It is possible, I\nshould add, that even Welshmen may find theoretical fault with some of\nthese directions; but they are given here as very nearly reproducing\nthe practical impression made upon English ears by actual Welsh current\ntalk. No one need go outside of his own experience to discover how\ngreatly the sounds of current discourse differ from theoretical methods\nof pronunciation.\n\nSuch is the general sound of the Welsh tongue. It will be helpful\nif I add--in view of many books which are now appearing as results\nof the fresh interest lately aroused in old G\u00e6lic language and\nliterature--that the sounds here given belong to the tongue of that\nspecial division of the Kelts known as the Cymric (pronounced Kymric)\nKelts, in distinction from their neighbors of ancient Ireland and\nScotland, known as the G\u00e6dhilic, or G\u00e6lic. The derivation of the\nnames \"Wales\" and \"Welsh\" is much disputed, and may be regarded as\nunsettled. They are, at any rate, much later than \"Cambria\" and\n\"Cymric,\" which all Welshmen claim to be the true names for their\ncountry and nation, building upon that ancient tradition perpetuated\nby Geoffrey of Monmouth, that after the death of Brutus, the original\nfounder of Britain, his three sons divided the kingdom between them;\nthe eldest, Locrinus, taking the part now known as England, but called\nafter him \"Locria\" (or, variously, \"Locgria,\" \"Locris,\" &c.) in all old\nchronicles; the next son, Albanach (Albany), taking the parts north\nof the Humber; and the third son, Camber, taking the part between the\nIrish seas and the rivers Severn and Dee, whence it was called after\nhim, \"Cambria,\" now known as Wales.\n\nHence the Welsh now call themselves \"Cymru,\" usually reproduced in\nEnglish by \"Cymry,\" and their language \"Cymraec,\" or \"Cymraeg,\" usually\nreproduced in English by \"Cymric.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe present work contains nearly all the Mabinogion originally given;\nand, as in the other works of this series, the original text is\nscrupulously preserved, except occasionally to hasten the long-lagging\naction of a story,--in which case the interpolation is always placed\nin brackets,--and except where the demands of modern reserve required\nexcision. An Italicized word in brackets is always the meaning of the\nword immediately before it, as in the _Froissart_ and the _King Arthur_.\n\nIn now leaving this beautiful book with my young countrymen, I find\nmyself so sure of its charm as to feel no hesitation in taking\nauthority to unite the earnest expression of their gratitude with\nthat of my own to Lady Charlotte Guest, whose talents and scholarship\nhave made these delights possible; and I can wish my young readers\nfew pleasures of finer quality than that surprised sense of a whole\nnew world of possession which came with my first reading of these\nMabinogion, and made me remember Keats's\n\n        \"... watcher of the skies\n    When a new planet swims into his ken.\"\n\n                                                          SIDNEY LANIER\n\n                                          CAMP ROBIN, N.C., June, 1881.\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS.\n\n                   THE LADY OF THE FOUNTAIN\n\n                   KILHWCH AND OLWEN; OR, THE TWRCH TRWYTH\n\n                   PEREDUR THE SON OF EVRAWC\n\n                   THE DREAM OF RHONABWY\n\n                   PWYLL, PRINCE OF DYVED\n\n                   THE STORY OF LLUDD AND LLEVELYS\n\n                   THE ORIGIN OF THE OWL\n\n                   BRANWEN THE DAUGHTER OF LLYR\n\n                   MANAWYDDAN AND THE MICE\n\n                   GERAINT THE SON OF ERBIN\n\n                   THE DREAM OF MAXEN WLEDIG\n\n                   TALIESIN\n\n\n\n\n                        LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n             KAI AND HIS COMPANIONS AT THE CASTLE OF THE GIANT GWRNACH\n\n             THE RECOVERY OF OWAIN\n\n             KILHWCH RIDING INTO ARTHUR'S HALL\n\n             PEREDUR AND THE MAIDEN\n\n             PEREDUR AND THE CHESSMEN\n\n             THE ARMY OF RAVENS\n\n             THE BATTLE OF THE DRAGONS\n\n             THE FLIGHT OF BLODEUWEDD AND HER MAIDENS\n\n             PRYDERI HELD FAST BY THE ENCHANTED BOWL\n\n             THE TOURNAMENT OF THE SPARROW-HAWK\n\n             GERAINT AND THE MAIDEN AT THE EDGE OF THE WOOD\n\n             ELPHIN SINGING BEFORE TALIESIN\n\n\n\n\n                         THE BOY'S MABINOGION.\n\n\n\n\n                       THE LADY OF THE FOUNTAIN.\n\n\nKing Arthur was at Caerlleon-upon-Usk; and one day he sat in his\nchamber, and with him were Owain[5] the son of Urien,[5] and Kynon\nthe son of Clydno, and Kai the son of Kyner, and Gwenhwyvar and her\nhandmaidens at needle-work by the window. And if it should be said\nthat there was a porter at Arthur's palace, there was none. Glewlwyd\nGavaelvawr was there, acting as porter, to welcome guests and\nstrangers, and to receive them with honor, and to inform them of the\nmanners and customs of the court, and to direct those who came to the\nhall or to the presence-chamber, and those who came to take up their\nlodging.\n\n[Footnote 5: This \"Owain\" is _Owen_, and his father \"Urien\" is the\n\"King Uriens of Gore\" (Gore is probably _Gower_, in Glamorganshire,\nWales), familiar to all the young readers of \"The Boy's King Arthur.\"]\n\nIn the centre of the chamber King Arthur sat upon a seat of green\nrushes, over which was spread a covering of flame-colored satin, and a\ncushion of red satin was under his elbow.\n\nThen Arthur spoke. \"If I thought you would not disparage me,\" said he,\n\"I would sleep while I wait for my repast; and you can entertain one\nanother with relating tales, and can obtain a flagon of mead and some\nmeat from Kai.\"\n\nAnd the king went to sleep. So Kai[6] went to the kitchen and to the\nmead-cellar, and returned bearing a flagon of mead, and a golden\ngoblet, and a handful of skewers upon which were broiled collops of\nmeat. Then they ate the collops, and began to drink the mead.\n\n[Footnote 6: This is \"Sir Kay the seneschal,\" who nicknames Beaumains,\nand figures everywhere in Malory's _King Arthur_ as a cheerful but\nsomewhat hasty-witted knight.]\n\n\"Now,\" said Kai, \"it is time for you to give me my story.\"\n\n\"Kynon,\" said Owain, \"do thou pay to Kai the tale that is his due.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Kynon, \"thou art older, and art a better teller of tales,\nand hast seen more marvellous things than I: do thou therefore pay Kai\nhis tale.\"\n\n\"Begin thyself,\" quoth Owain, \"with the best that thou knowest.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" answered Kynon. \"I was the only son of my mother and\nfather, and I was exceedingly aspiring, and my daring was very great.\nI thought there was no enterprise in the world too mighty for me; and,\nafter I had achieved all the adventures that were in my own country, I\nequipped myself, and set forth to journey through deserts and distant\nregions. And at length it chanced that I came to the fairest valley in\nthe world, wherein were trees of equal growth; and a river ran through\nthe valley, and a path was by the side of the river. And I followed the\npath until mid-day, and continued my journey along the remainder of the\nvalley until the evening; and at the extremity of a plain I came to\na large and lustrous castle, at the foot of which was a torrent. And\nI approached the castle; and there I beheld two youths with yellow,\ncurling hair, each with a frontlet of gold upon his head, and clad in a\ngarment of yellow satin, and they had gold clasps upon their insteps.\nIn the hand of each of them was an ivory bow, strung with the sinews\nof the stag; and their arrows had shafts of the bone of the whale, and\nwere winged with peacock's feathers; the shafts also had golden heads.\nAnd they had daggers with blades of gold, and with hilts of the bone of\nthe whale. And they were shooting their daggers.\n\n\"And a little way from them I saw a man in the prime of life, with his\nbeard newly shorn, clad in a robe and a mantle of yellow satin; and\nround the top of his mantle was a band of gold lace. On his feet were\nshoes of variegated leather, fastened by two bosses of gold. When I\nsaw him, I went towards him and saluted him; and such was his courtesy\nthat he no sooner received my greeting than he returned it. And he went\nwith me towards the castle. Now, there were no dwellers in the castle,\nexcept those who were in one hall. And there I saw four and twenty\ndamsels embroidering satin at a window. And this I tell thee, Kai,\nthat the least fair of them was fairer than the fairest maid thou hast\never beheld in the Island of Britain; and the least lovely of them was\nmore lovely than Gwenhwyvar, the wife of Arthur, when she has appeared\nloveliest at the Offering, on the day of the Nativity, or at the feast\nof Easter. They rose up at my coming, and six of them took my horse and\ndivested me of my armor. And six others took my arms and washed them\nin a vessel until they were perfectly bright. And the third six spread\ncloths upon the tables and prepared meat. And the fourth six took off\nmy soiled garments and placed others upon me; namely, an under-vest and\na doublet of fine linen, and a robe, and a surcoat, and a mantle of\nyellow satin with a broad gold band upon the mantle. And they placed\ncushions, both beneath and around me, with coverings of red linen; and\nI sat down. Now, the six maidens who had taken my horse unharnessed him\nas well as if they had been the best squires in the Island of Britain.\nThen, behold, they brought bowls of silver wherein was water to wash,\nand towels of linen, some green, and some white; and I washed. And in a\nlittle while the man sat down to the table. And I sat next to him; and\nbelow me sat all the maidens, except those who waited on us. And the\ntable was of silver, and the cloths upon the table were of linen; and\nno vessel was served upon the table that was not either of gold, or of\nsilver, or of buffalo-horn. And our meat was brought to us. And verily,\nKai, I saw there every sort of meat and every sort of liquor that\nI have ever seen elsewhere; but the meat and the liquor were better\nserved there than I have ever seen them in any other place.\n\n\"Until the repast was half over, neither the man nor any one of the\ndamsels spoke a single word to me; but, when the man perceived that\nit would be more agreeable to me to converse than to eat any more,\nhe began to inquire of me who I was. I said I was glad to find that\nthere was some one who would discourse with me, and that it was not\nconsidered so great a crime at that court for people to hold converse\ntogether.\n\n\"'Chieftain,' said the man, 'we would have talked to thee sooner, but\nwe feared to disturb thee during thy repast: now, however, we will\ndiscourse.'\n\n\"Then I told the man who I was, and what was the cause of my journey,\nand said that I was seeking whether any one was superior to me, or\nwhether I could gain the mastery over all. The man looked upon me; and\nhe smiled, and said, 'If I did not fear to distress thee too much, I\nwould show thee that which thou seekest.'\n\n\"Upon this I became anxious and sorrowful; and, when the man perceived\nit, he said, 'If thou wouldst rather that I should show thee thy\ndisadvantage than thine advantage, I will do so. Sleep here to-night,\nand in the morning arise early, and take the road upwards through the\nvalley until thou reachest the wood through which thou camest hither.\nA little way within the wood thou wilt meet with a road branching off\nto the right, by which thou must proceed until thou comest to a large\nsheltered glade with a mound in the centre. And thou wilt see a black\nman of great stature on the top of the mound. He is not smaller in size\nthan two of the men of this world. He has but one foot, and one eye\nin the middle of his forehead. And he has a club of iron; and it is\ncertain that there are no two men in the world who would not find their\nburden in that club. And he is not a comely man, but, on the contrary,\nhe is exceedingly ill-favored; and he is the woodward of that wood. And\nthou wilt see a thousand wild animals grazing around him. Inquire of\nhim the way out of the glade; and he will reply to thee briefly, and\nwill point out the road by which thou shalt find that which thou art in\nquest of.'\n\n\"And long seemed that night to me. And the next morning I arose and\nequipped myself, and mounted my horse, and proceeded straight through\nthe valley to the wood; and I followed the cross-road which the man had\npointed out to me, till at length I arrived at the glade. And there\nwas I three times more astonished at the number of wild animals that I\nbeheld than the man had said I should be. And the black man was there,\nsitting upon the top of the mound. Huge of stature as the man had told\nme that he was, I found him to exceed by far the description he had\ngiven me of him. As for the iron club which the man had told me was a\nburden for two men, I am certain, Kai, that it would be a heavy weight\nfor four warriors to lift; and this was in the black man's hand. And\nhe only spoke to me in answer to my questions. Then I asked him what\npower he held over those animals.\n\n\"'I will show thee, little man,' said he.\n\n\"And he took his club in his hand, and with it he struck a stag a great\nblow, so that he brayed vehemently; and at his braying the animals\ncame together, as numerous as the stars in the sky, so that it was\ndifficult for me to find room in the glade to stand among them. There\nwere serpents, and dragons, and divers sorts of animals. And he looked\nat them, and bade them go and feed; and they bowed their heads, and did\nhim homage as vassals to their lord.\n\n\"Then the black man said to me, 'Seest thou now, little man, what power\nI hold over these animals?'\n\n\"Then I inquired of him the way, and he became very rough in his manner\nto me: however, he asked me whither I would go. And when I told him who\nI was, and what I sought, he directed me.\n\n\"'Take,' said he, 'that path that leads towards the head of the\nglade, and ascend the wooded steep until thou comest to its summit;\nand there thou wilt find an open space like to a large valley, and\nin the midst of it a tall tree, whose branches are greener than the\ngreenest pine-trees. Under this tree is a fountain, and by the side\nof the fountain a marble slab, and on the marble slab a silver bowl\nattached by a chain of silver so that it may not be carried away. Take\nthe bowl and throw a bowlful of water upon the slab, and thou wilt\nhear a mighty peal of thunder, so that thou wilt think that heaven and\nearth are trembling with its fury. With the thunder there will come a\nshower so severe, that it will be scarce possible for thee to endure it\nand live. And the shower will be of hailstones; and after the shower\nthe weather will become fair, but every leaf that was upon the tree\nwill have been carried away by the shower. Then a flight of birds will\ncome and alight upon the tree; and in thine own country thou didst\nnever hear a strain so sweet as that which they will sing. And, at the\nmoment thou art most delighted with the song of the birds, thou wilt\nhear a murmuring and complaining coming towards thee along the valley.\nAnd thou wilt see a knight upon a coal-black horse, clothed in black\nvelvet, and with a pennon of black linen upon his lance; and he will\nride unto thee to encounter thee with the utmost speed. If thou fleest\nfrom him, he will overtake thee; and, if thou abidest there, as sure as\nthou art a mounted knight he will leave thee on foot. And if thou dost\nnot find trouble in that adventure thou needest not seek it during the\nrest of thy life.'\n\n\"So I journeyed on until I reached the summit of the steep, and there I\nfound every thing as the black man had described it to me. And I went\nup to the tree, and beneath it I saw the fountain, and by its side the\nmarble slab, and the silver bowl fastened by the chain. Then I took\nthe bowl, and cast a bowlful of water upon the slab; and thereupon,\nbehold, the thunder came, much more violent than the black man had led\nme to expect. And after the thunder came the shower: and of a truth I\ntell thee, Kai, that there is neither man nor beast that could endure\nthat shower and live; for not one of those hailstones would be stopped,\neither by the flesh or by the skin, until it had reached the bone. I\nturned my horse's flank towards the shower, and placed the beak of my\nshield over his head and neck, while I held the upper part of it over\nmy own head. And thus I withstood the shower. When I looked on the\ntree, there was not a single leaf upon it; and then the sky became\nclear, and with that, behold the birds lighted upon the tree, and sang.\nAnd truly, Kai, I never heard any melody equal to that, either before\nor since. And, when I was most charmed with listening to the birds, lo,\na murmuring voice was heard through the valley, approaching me, and\nsaying, 'O knight! what has brought thee hither? What evil have I done\nto thee, that thou shouldst act towards me and my possessions as thou\nhast this day? Dost thou not know that the shower to-day has left in my\ndominions neither man nor beast alive that was exposed to it?'\n\n\"And thereupon, behold, a knight on a black horse appeared, clothed\nin jet-black velvet, and with a tabard of black linen about him. And\nwe charged each other; and, as the onset was furious, it was not long\nbefore I was overthrown. Then the knight passed the shaft of his lance\nthrough the bridle-rein of my horse, and rode off with the two horses,\nleaving me where I was. And he did not even bestow so much notice upon\nme as to imprison me, nor did he despoil me of my arms. So I returned\nalong the road by which I had come. And, when I reached the glade where\nthe black man was, I confess to thee, Kai, it is a marvel that I did\nnot melt down into a liquid pool, through the shame that I felt at the\nblack man's derision. And that night I came to the same castle where\nI had spent the night preceding. And I was more agreeably entertained\nthat night than I had been the night before; and I was better feasted,\nand I conversed freely with the inmates of the castle, and none of them\nalluded to my expedition to the fountain, neither did I mention it\nto any; and I remained there that night. When I arose on the morrow,\nI found ready saddled a dark-bay palfrey, with nostrils as red as\nscarlet; and, after putting on my armor and leaving there my blessing,\nI returned to my own court. And that horse I still possess, and he is\nin the stable yonder; and I declare that I would not part with him for\nthe best palfrey in the Island of Britain.\n\n\"Now of a truth, Kai, no man ever before confessed to an adventure\nso much to his own discredit; and verily it seems strange to me that\nneither before nor since have I heard of any person besides myself who\nknew of this adventure, and that the subject of it should exist within\nKing Arthur's dominions without any other person lighting upon it.\"\n\n\"Now,\" quoth Owain, \"would it not be well to go and endeavor to\ndiscover that place?\"\n\n\"By the hand of my friend,\" said Kai, \"often dost thou utter that with\nthy tongue which thou wouldst not make good with thy deeds.\"\n\n\"In very truth,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"it were better thou wert hanged,\nKai, than to use such uncourteous speech towards a man like Owain.\"\n\n\"By the hand of my friend, good lady,\" said Kai, \"thy praise of Owain\nis not greater than mine.\"\n\nWith that Arthur awoke, and asked if he had not been sleeping a little.\n\n\"Yes, lord,\" answered Owain, \"thou hast slept a while.\"\n\n\"Is it time for us to go to meat?\"\n\n\"It is, lord,\" said Owain.\n\nThen the horn for washing was sounded, and the king and all his\nhousehold sat down to eat. And when the meal was ended Owain withdrew\nto his lodging and made ready his horse and his arms.\n\nOn the morrow, with the dawn of day, he put on his armor, and mounted\nhis charger, and travelled through distant lands and over desert\nmountains. And at length he arrived at the valley which Kynon had\ndescribed to him; and he was certain that it was the same that he\nsought. And, journeying along the valley by the side of the river, he\nfollowed its course till he came to the plain and within sight of the\ncastle. When he approached the castle, he saw the youths shooting their\ndaggers in the place where Kynon had seen them, and the yellow man, to\nwhom the castle belonged, standing hard by. And no sooner had Owain\nsaluted the yellow man than he was saluted by him in return.\n\nAnd he went forward towards the castle, and there he saw the chamber;\nand when he had entered the chamber he beheld the maidens working\nat satin embroidery, in chairs of gold. And their beauty and their\ncomeliness seemed to Owain far greater than Kynon had represented to\nhim. And they arose to wait upon Owain, as they had done to Kynon; and\nthe meal which they set before him gave more satisfaction to Owain than\nit had done to Kynon.\n\nAbout the middle of the repast, the yellow man asked Owain the object\nof his journey. And Owain made it known to him, and said, \"I am in\nquest of the knight who guards the fountain.\"\n\nUpon this the yellow man smiled, and said that he was as loth to point\nout that adventure to Owain as he had been to Kynon. However, he\ndescribed the whole to Owain, and they retired to rest.\n\nThe next morning Owain found his horse made ready for him by the\ndamsels; and he set forward, and came to the glade where the black man\nwas. And the stature of the black man seemed more wonderful to Owain\nthan it had done to Kynon; and Owain asked of him his road, and he\nshowed it to him. And Owain followed the road, as Kynon had done, till\nhe came to the green tree; and he beheld the fountain, and the slab\nbeside the fountain with the bowl upon it. And Owain took the bowl,\nand threw a bowlful of water upon the slab. And, lo, the thunder was\nheard; and after the thunder came the shower, much more violent than\nKynon had described; and after the shower the sky became bright. And\nwhen Owain looked at the tree there was not one leaf upon it. And\nimmediately the birds came, and settled upon the tree, and sang. And,\nwhen their song was most pleasing to Owain, he beheld a knight coming\ntowards him through the valley; and he prepared to receive him and\nencountered him violently. Having broken both their lances, they drew\ntheir swords and fought blade to blade. Then Owain struck the knight a\nblow through his helmet, headpiece, and visor, and through the skin,\nand the flesh, and the bone, until it wounded the very brain. Then the\nblack knight felt that he had received a mortal wound, upon which he\nturned his horse's head and fled. And Owain pursued him, and followed\nclose upon him, although he was not near enough to strike him with his\nsword. Thereupon Owain descried a vast and resplendent castle. And they\ncame to the castle-gate. And the black knight was allowed to enter,\nand the portcullis was let fall upon Owain; and it struck his horse\nbehind the saddle, and cut him in two and carried away the rowels of\nthe spurs that were upon Owain's heels. And the portcullis descended\nto the floor. And the rowels of the spurs and part of the horse were\nwithout; and Owain, with the other part of the horse, remained between\nthe two gates, and the inner gate was closed, so that Owain could not\ngo thence; and Owain was in a perplexing situation. And, while he was\nin this state, he could see through an aperture in the gate a street\nfacing him, with a row of houses on each side. And he beheld a maiden,\nwith yellow curling hair, and a frontlet of gold upon her head; and\nshe was clad in a dress of yellow satin, and on her feet were shoes of\nvariegated leather. And she approached the gate, and desired that it\nshould be opened.\n\n\"Heaven knows, lady,\" said Owain, \"it is no more possible for me to\nopen to thee from hence than it is for thee to set me free.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said the damsel, \"it is very sad that thou canst not be\nreleased, and every woman ought to succor thee; for I never saw one\nmore faithful in the service of ladies than thou. As a friend thou art\nthe most sincere, and as a lover the most devoted. Therefore,\" quoth\nshe, \"whatever is in my power to do for thy release, I will do it. Take\nthis ring, and put it on thy finger with the stone inside thy hand, and\nclose thy hand upon the stone. And as long as thou concealest it it\nwill conceal thee. When they have consulted together, they will come\nforth to fetch thee in order to put thee to death; and they will be\nmuch grieved that they cannot find thee. And I will await thee on the\nhorseblock yonder; and thou wilt be able to see me, though I cannot\nsee thee: therefore come and place thy hand upon my shoulder, that I\nmay know that thou art near me. And by the way that I go hence do thou\naccompany me.\"\n\nThen she went away from Owain, and he did all that the maiden had told\nhim. And the people of the castle came to seek Owain to put him to\ndeath; and, when they found nothing but the half of his horse, they\nwere sorely grieved.\n\nAnd Owain vanished from among them, and went to the maiden, and placed\nhis hand upon her shoulder; whereupon she set off. And Owain followed\nher until they came to the door of a large and beautiful chamber; and\nthe maiden opened it, and they went in and closed the door. And Owain\nlooked around the chamber; and behold there was not even a single nail\nin it that was not painted with gorgeous colors; and there was not a\nsingle panel that had not sundry images in gold portrayed upon it.\n\nThe maiden kindled a fire, and took water in a silver bowl, and put a\ntowel of white linen on her shoulder, and gave Owain water to wash.\nThen she placed before him a silver table inlaid with gold, upon which\nwas a cloth of yellow linen, and she brought him food. And of a truth\nOwain had never seen any kind of meat that was not there in abundance;\nbut it was better cooked there than he had ever found it in any other\nplace. Nor did he ever see so excellent a display of meat and drink\nas there. And there was not one vessel from which he was served that\nwas not of gold or of silver. And Owain ate and drank until late in\nthe afternoon, when, lo, they heard a mighty clamor in the castle. And\nOwain asked the maiden what that outcry was.\n\n\"They are administering extreme unction,\"[7] said she, \"to the nobleman\nwho owns the castle.\"\n\n[Footnote 7: The last rite of the church to a dying person.]\n\nAnd Owain went to sleep.\n\nAnd a little after daybreak they heard an exceeding loud clamor and\nwailing. And Owain asked the maiden what was the cause of it.\n\n\"They are bearing to the church the body of the nobleman who owned the\ncastle.\"\n\nAnd Owain rose up and clothed himself, and opened a window of the\nchamber, and looked towards the castle. And he could see neither the\nbounds nor the extent of the hosts that filled the streets. And they\nwere fully armed. And a vast number of women were with them, both on\nhorseback and on foot; and all the ecclesiastics in the city, singing.\nAnd it seemed to Owain that the sky resounded with the vehemence of\ntheir cries, and with the noise of the trumpets, and with the singing\nof the ecclesiastics. In the midst of the throng he beheld the bier,\nover which was a veil of white linen; and wax tapers were burning\nbeside and around it, and none that supported the bier was lower in\nrank than a powerful baron.\n\nNever did Owain see an assemblage so gorgeous with satin and silk and\nsendal. And following the train he beheld a lady, with yellow hair\nfalling over her shoulders, and stained with blood, and about her a\ndress of yellow satin, which was torn. Upon her feet were shoes of\nvariegated leather. And it was a marvel that the ends of her fingers\nwere not bruised, from the violence with which she smote her hands\ntogether. Truly she would have been the fairest lady Owain ever saw,\nhad she been in her usual guise. And her cry was louder than the shout\nof the men or the clamor of the trumpets. No sooner had he beheld the\nlady than he became inflamed with her love, so that it took entire\npossession of him.\n\nThen he inquired of the maiden who the lady was.\n\n\"Heaven knows,\" replied the maiden, \"she may be said to be the fairest,\nand the most chaste, and the most liberal, and the wisest, and the\nmost noble, of women; and she is my mistress. And she is called the\n'Countess of the Fountain,' the wife of him whom thou didst slay\nyesterday.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Owain, \"she is the woman that I love best.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said the maiden, \"she shall also love thee not a little.\"\n\nAnd with that the maid arose, and kindled a fire, and filled a pot with\nwater and placed it to warm; and she brought a towel of white linen\nand placed it around Owain's neck; and she took a goblet of ivory and\na silver basin, and filled them with warm water, wherewith she washed\nOwain's head. Then she opened a wooden casket and drew forth a razor\nwhose haft was of ivory, and upon which were two rivets of gold. And\nshe shaved his beard and she dried his head and his throat with the\ntowel. Then she rose up from before Owain, and brought him to eat. And\ntruly Owain had never so good a meal, nor was he ever so well served.\n\nWhen he had finished his repast, the maiden arranged his couch.\n\n\"Come here,\" said she, \"and sleep, and I will go and woo for thee.\"\n\nAnd Owain went to sleep; and the maiden shut the door of the chamber\nafter her, and went towards the castle. When she came there, she found\nnothing but mourning and sorrow; and the countess in her chamber could\nnot bear the sight of any one through grief. Luned came and saluted\nher; but the countess answered her not. And the maiden bent down\ntowards her, and said, \"What aileth thee, that thou answerest no one\nto-day?\"\n\n\"Luned,\" said the countess, \"what change hath befallen thee, that thou\nhast not come to visit me in my grief? It was wrong in thee, and I\nhaving made thee rich--it was wrong in thee that thou didst not come to\nsee me in my distress. That was wrong in thee. As it is, I will banish\nthee.\"\n\n\"I am glad,\" said Luned, \"that thou hast no other cause to do so than\nthat I would have been of service to thee where thou didst not know\nwhat was to thine advantage. And henceforth evil betide whichever of\nus shall make the first advance towards reconciliation to the other;\nwhether I should seek an invitation from thee, or thou of thine own\naccord shouldst send to invite me.\"\n\nWith that Luned went forth. And the countess arose, and followed her\nto the door of the chamber, and began coughing loudly. And, when Luned\nlooked back, the countess beckoned to her, and she returned to the\ncountess.\n\n\"In truth,\" said the countess, \"evil is thy disposition; but, if thou\nknowest what is to my advantage, declare it to me.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" quoth she.\n\n\"Thou knowest that except by warfare and arms it is impossible for thee\nto preserve thy possessions. Delay not, therefore, to seek some one who\ncan defend them.\"\n\n\"And how can I do that?\" said the countess.\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said Luned. \"Unless thou canst defend the fountain,\nthou canst not maintain thy dominions; and no one can defend the\nfountain, except it be a knight of Arthur's household. And I will go to\nArthur's court; and ill betide me if I return thence without a warrior\nwho can guard the fountain as well as, or even better than, he who\ndefended it formerly.\"\n\n\"That will be hard to perform,\" said the countess. \"Go, however, and\nmake proof of that which thou hast promised.\"\n\nLuned set out, under the pretence of going to Arthur's court; but she\nwent back to the chamber where she had left Owain. And she tarried\nthere with him as long as it might have taken her to have travelled to\nthe court of King Arthur. And at the end of that time she apparelled\nherself, and went to visit the countess. And the countess was much\nrejoiced when she saw her, and inquired what news she brought from the\ncourt.\n\n\"I bring thee the best of news,\" said Luned, \"for I have compassed the\nobject of my mission. When wilt thou that I should present to thee the\nchieftain who has come with me hither?\"\n\n\"Bring him here to visit me to-morrow at mid-day,\" said the countess,\n\"and I will cause the town to be assembled by that time.\"\n\nAnd Luned returned home. And the next day, at noon, Owain arrayed\nhimself in a coat and a surcoat and a mantle of yellow satin upon which\nwas a broad band of gold lace; and on his feet were high shoes of\nvariegated leather, which were fastened by golden clasps in the form of\nlions. And they proceeded to the chamber of the countess.\n\nRight glad was the countess of their coming, and she gazed steadfastly\nupon Owain, and said, \"Luned, this knight has not the look of a\ntraveller.\"\n\n\"What harm is there in that, lady?\" said Luned.\n\n\"I am certain,\" said the countess, \"that no other man than this chased\nthe soul from the body of my lord.\"\n\n\"So much the better for thee, lady,\" said Luned; \"for, had he not been\nstronger than thy lord, he could not have deprived him of life. There\nis no remedy for that which is past, be it as it may.\"\n\n\"Go back to thine abode,\" said the countess, \"and I will take counsel.\"\n\nThe next day the countess caused all her subjects to assemble, and\nshowed them that her earldom was left defenceless, and that it could\nnot be protected but with horse and arms, and military skill.\n\n\"Therefore,\" said she, \"this is what I offer for your choice: either\nlet one of you take me, or give your consent for me to take a husband\nfrom elsewhere to defend my dominions.\"\n\nSo they came to the determination that it was better that she should\nhave permission to marry some one from elsewhere. And thereupon she\nsent for the bishops and archbishops to celebrate her nuptials with\nOwain. And the men of the earldom did Owain homage.\n\nAnd Owain defended the fountain with lance and sword. And this is the\nmanner in which he defended it: whensoever a knight came there, he\noverthrew him and sold him for his full worth, and what he thus gained\nhe divided among his barons and his knights; and no man in the whole\nworld could be more beloved than he was by his subjects. And it was\nthus for the space of three years.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt befell that as Gwalchmai[8] went forth one day with King Arthur he\nperceived him to be very sad and sorrowful. And Gwalchmai was much\ngrieved to see Arthur in this state, and he questioned him, saying,\n\"Oh, my lord! what has befallen thee?\"\n\n[Footnote 8: This Gwalchmai--a name which in Old British means _Hawk of\nBattle_--is our old friend \"Sir Gawaine\" of _The Boy's King Arthur_.\nThe French romancers appear to have transformed his name from the old\nlegendary \"Gwalchmai\" to \"Gawaine.\" He was noted in Welsh poetry as one\nof the three golden-tongued knights of Arthur's court whose persuasions\nnone could resist; and this may account for the strange subjection of\nArthur to his influence in leading the king, against the king's will\nand desire, to war upon Sir Launcelot during those last days described\nin Sir Thomas Malory's book.]\n\n\"In sooth, Gwalchmai,\" said Arthur, \"I am grieved concerning Owain,\nwhom I have lost these three years; and I shall certainly die if the\nfourth year passes without my seeing him. Now I am sure that it is\nthrough the tale which Kynon, the son of Clydno, related, that I have\nlost Owain.\"\n\n\"There is no need for thee,\" said Gwalchmai, \"to summon to arms thy\nwhole dominions on this account; for thou thyself and the men of thy\nhousehold will be able to avenge Owain if he be slain, or to set him\nfree if he be in prison, and if alive to bring him back with thee.\" And\nit was settled according to what Gwalchmai had said.\n\nThen Arthur and the men of his household prepared to go and seek Owain;\nand their number was three thousand, besides their attendants. And\nKynon, the son of Clydno, acted as their guide. And Arthur came to the\ncastle where Kynon had been before; and when he came there the youths\nwere shooting in the same place, and the yellow man was standing hard\nby. When the yellow man saw Arthur, he greeted him and invited him\nto the castle. And Arthur accepted his invitation, and they entered\nthe castle together. And, great as was the number of his retinue,\ntheir presence was scarcely observed in the castle, so vast was its\nextent. And the maidens rose up to wait on them; and the service of the\nmaidens appeared to them all to excel any attendance they had ever met\nwith; and even the pages who had charge of the horses were no worse\nserved that night than Arthur himself would have been in his own palace.\n\nThe next morning, Arthur set out thence with Kynon for his guide, and\ncame to the place where the black man was. And the stature of the black\nman was more surprising to Arthur than it had been represented to him.\nAnd they came to the top of the wooded steep, and traversed the valley\ntill they reached the green tree, where they saw the fountain, and the\nbowl, and the slab. And upon that Kai came to Arthur, and spoke to him.\n\n\"My lord,\" said he, \"I know the meaning of all this; and my request is\nthat thou wilt permit me to throw the water on the slab, and to receive\nthe first adventure that may befall.\"\n\nAnd Arthur gave him leave.\n\nThen Kai threw a bowlful of water upon the slab, and immediately\nthere came the thunder, and after the thunder the shower. And such a\nthunderstorm they had never known before, and many of the attendants\nwho were in Arthur's train were killed by the shower. After the shower\nhad ceased the sky became clear, and on looking at the tree they beheld\nit completely leafless. Then the birds descended upon the tree; and\nthe song of the birds was far sweeter than any strain they had ever\nheard before. Then they beheld a knight on a coal-black horse, clothed\nin black satin, coming rapidly towards them. And Kai met him and\nencountered him, and it was not long before Kai was overthrown. And the\nknight withdrew, and Arthur and his host encamped for the night.\n\nAnd when they arose in the morning they perceived the signal of combat\nupon the lance of the knight. And Kai came to Arthur and spoke to him.\n\n\"My lord,\" said he, \"though I was overthrown yesterday, if it seem good\nto thee I would gladly meet the knight again to-day.\"\n\n\"Thou mayst do so,\" said Arthur.\n\nAnd Kai went towards the knight. And on the spot he overthrew Kai, and\nstruck him with the head of his lance in the forehead, so that it broke\nhis helmet and the headpiece, and pierced the skin and the flesh the\nbreadth of the spear-head, even to the bone. And Kai returned to his\ncompanions.\n\nAfter this, all the household of Arthur went forth one after the other\nto combat the knight, until there was not one that was not overthrown\nby him except Arthur and Gwalchmai. And Arthur armed himself to\nencounter the knight.\n\n\"Oh, my lord!\" said Gwalchmai, \"permit me to fight with him first.\"\n\nAnd Arthur permitted him. And he went forth to meet the knight, having\nover himself and his horse a satin robe of honor which had been sent\nhim by the daughter of the Earl of Rhangyw; and in this dress he was\nnot known by any of the host. And they charged each other, and fought\nall that day until the evening; and neither of them was able to\nunhorse the other.\n\nThe next day they fought with strong lances, and neither of them could\nobtain the mastery.\n\nAnd the third day they fought with exceeding strong lances. And they\nwere incensed with rage, and fought furiously, even until noon. And\nthey gave each other such a shock that the girths of their horses were\nbroken, so that they fell over their horses' cruppers to the ground.\nAnd they rose up speedily and drew their swords and resumed the combat.\nAnd the multitude that witnessed their encounter felt assured that\nthey had never before seen two men so valiant or so powerful. And, had\nit been midnight, it would have been light from the fire that flashed\nfrom their weapons. And the knight gave Gwalchmai a blow that turned\nhis helmet from off his face, so that the knight knew that it was\nGwalchmai. Then Owain said, \"My lord Gwalchmai, I did not know thee\nfor my cousin, owing to the robe of honor that enveloped thee. Take my\nsword and my arms.\"\n\nSaid Gwalchmai, \"Thou, Owain, art the victor. Take thou my sword.\"\n\nAnd with that Arthur saw that they were conversing, and advanced\ntowards them.\n\n\"My lord Arthur,\" said Gwalchmai, \"here is Owain, who has vanquished me\nand will not take my arms.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Owain, \"it is he that has vanquished me and he will not\ntake my sword.\"\n\n\"Give me your swords,\" said Arthur, \"and then neither of you has\nvanquished the other.\"\n\nThen Owain put his arms around Arthur's neck, and they embraced. And\nall the host hurried forward to see Owain, and to embrace him; and\nthere was nigh being a loss of life, so great was the press.\n\nAnd they retired that night, and the next day Arthur prepared to depart.\n\n\"My lord,\" said Owain, \"this is not well of thee; for I have been\nabsent from thee these three years, and during all that time, up to\nthis very day, I have been preparing a banquet for thee, knowing that\nthou wouldst come to seek me. Tarry with me, therefore, until thou and\nthy attendants have recovered the fatigues of the journey and have been\nanointed.\"\n\nAnd they all proceeded to the castle of the Countess of the Fountain.\nAnd the banquet which had been three years preparing was consumed in\nthree months. Never had they a more delicious or agreeable banquet. And\nArthur prepared to depart. Then he sent an embassy to the countess,\n[beseeching] her to permit Owain to go with him for the space of three\nmonths, that he might show him to the nobles and the fair dames of\nthe Island of Britain. And the countess gave her consent, although it\nwas very painful to her. So Owain came with Arthur to the Island of\nBritain. And, when he was once more amongst his kindred and friends, he\nremained three years, instead of three months, with them.\n\nAnd, as Owain one day sat at meat in the city of Caerlleon-upon-Usk,\nbehold a damsel entered, upon a bay horse with a curling mane and\ncovered with foam; and the bridle and so much as was seen of the saddle\nwere of gold. And the damsel was arrayed in a dress of yellow satin.\nAnd she came up to Owain, and took the ring from off his hand.\n\n\"Thus,\" said she, \"shall be treated the deceiver, the traitor, the\nfaithless, the disgraced, and the beardless.\"\n\nAnd she turned her horse's head, and departed.\n\nThen his adventure came to Owain's remembrance, and he was sorrowful;\nand, having finished eating, he went to his own abode and made\npreparations that night. And the next day he arose, [yet] did not go\nto the court, but wandered to the distant parts of the earth and to\nuncultivated mountains. And he remained there until all his apparel was\nworn out, and his body was wasted away, and his hair was grown long.\nAnd he went about with the wild beasts, and fed with them, until they\nbecame familiar with him. But at length he grew so weak that he could\nno longer bear them company. Then he descended from the mountains to\nthe valley, and came to a park that was the fairest in the world and\nbelonged to a widowed countess.\n\nOne day the countess and her maidens went forth to walk by a lake that\nwas in the middle of the park; and they saw the form of a man. And they\nwere terrified. Nevertheless, they went near him, and touched him, and\nlooked at him. And they saw that there was life in him, though he was\nexhausted by the heat of the sun. And the countess returned to the\ncastle, and took a flask full of precious ointment and gave it to one\nof her maidens.\n\n\"Go with this,\" said she, \"and take with thee yonder horse and\nclothing, and place them near the man we saw just now. And anoint him\nwith this balsam, near his heart; and if there is life in him he will\narise through the efficacy of this balsam. Then watch what he will do.\"\n\nAnd the maiden departed from her, and poured the whole of the balsam\nupon Owain, and left the horse and the garments hard by, and went a\nlittle way off and hid herself to watch him. In a short time she saw\nhim begin to move his arms. And he rose up and looked at his person,\nand became ashamed of the unseemliness of his appearance. Then he\nperceived the horse and the garments that were near him. And he crept\nforward till he was able to draw the garments to him from off the\nsaddle. And he clothed himself, and with difficulty mounted the horse.\nThen the damsel discovered herself to him, and saluted him. And he\nwas rejoiced when he saw her, and inquired of her what land and what\nterritory that was.\n\n[Illustration: THE RECOVERY OF OWAIN.]\n\n\"Truly,\" said the maiden, \"a widowed countess owns yonder castle. At\nthe death of her husband he left her two earldoms; but at this day she\nhas [only] this one dwelling that has not been wrested from her by a\nyoung earl who is her neighbor, because she refused to become his wife.\"\n\n\"That is pity,\" said Owain.\n\nAnd he and the maiden proceeded to the castle. And he alighted there;\nand the maiden conducted him to a pleasant chamber, and kindled a fire,\nand left him.\n\nAnd the maiden came to the countess, and gave the flask into her hand.\n\n\"Ha, maiden!\" said the countess, \"where is all the balsam?\"\n\n\"Have I not used it all?\" said she.\n\n\"Oh, maiden!\" said the countess, \"I cannot easily forgive thee this.\nIt is sad for me to have wasted sevenscore pounds' worth of precious\nointment upon a stranger whom I know not. However, maiden, wait thou\nupon him until he is quite recovered.\"\n\nAnd the maiden did so, and furnished him with meat and drink and fire\nand lodging and medicaments until he was well again. And in three\nmonths he was restored to his former guise, and became even more comely\nthan he had ever been before.\n\nOne day Owain heard a great tumult and a sound of arms in the castle,\nand he inquired of the maiden the cause thereof.\n\n\"The earl,\" said she, \"whom I mentioned to thee, has come before the\ncastle with a numerous army, to subdue the countess.\"\n\nAnd Owain inquired of her whether the countess had a horse and arms in\nher possession.\n\n\"She has the best in the world,\" said the maiden.\n\n\"Wilt thou go and request the loan of a horse and arms for me,\" said\nOwain, \"that I may go and look at this army?\"\n\n\"I will,\" said the maiden.\n\nAnd she came to the countess, and told her what Owain had said. And the\ncountess laughed.\n\n\"Truly,\" said she, \"I will even give him a horse and arms forever--such\na horse and such arms had he never yet. And I am glad that they should\nbe taken by him to-day, lest my enemies should have them against my\nwill to-morrow. Yet I know not what he would do with them.\"\n\nThe countess bade them bring out a beautiful black steed upon which\nwas a beechen saddle, and a suit of armor for man and horse. And Owain\narmed himself, and mounted the horse and went forth, attended by two\npages completely equipped with horses and arms. And, when they came\nnear to the earl's army, they could see neither its extent nor its\nextremity. And Owain asked the pages in which troop the earl was.\n\n\"In yonder troop,\" said they, \"in which are four yellow standards: two\nof them are before, and two behind, him.\"\n\n\"Now,\" said Owain, \"do you return, and await me near the portal of the\ncastle.\"\n\nSo they returned; and Owain pressed forward until he met the earl. And\nOwain drew him completely out of his saddle and turned his horse's head\ntowards the castle, and, though it was with difficulty, he brought the\nearl to the portal, where the pages awaited him. And in they came. And\nOwain presented the earl as a gift to the countess, and said to her,\n\"Behold a requital to thee for thy blessed balsam.\"\n\nThe army encamped around the castle. And the earl restored to the\ncountess the two earldoms he had taken from her, as a ransom for his\nlife; and for his freedom he gave her the half of his own dominions,\nand all his gold and his silver and his jewels, besides hostages.\n\nAnd Owain took his departure. And the countess and all her subjects\nbesought him to remain; but Owain chose rather to wander through\ndistant lands and deserts.\n\nAnd as he journeyed he heard a loud yelling in a wood. And it was\nrepeated a second and a third time. And Owain went towards the spot,\nand beheld a huge craggy mound in the middle of the wood, on the side\nof which was a gray rock. And there was a cleft in the rock, and a\nserpent was within the cleft. And near the rock stood a black lion; and\nevery time the lion sought to go thence the serpent darted towards him\nto attack him. And Owain unsheathed his sword, and drew near to the\nrock; and, as the serpent sprang out, he struck him with his sword and\ncut him in two. And he dried his sword, and went on his way as before.\nBut, behold, the lion followed him and played about him as though it\nhad been a greyhound that he had reared.\n\nThey proceeded thus throughout the day until the evening. And when\nit was time for Owain to take his rest he dismounted, and turned his\nhorse loose in a flat and wooded meadow. And he struck fire, and when\nthe fire was kindled the lion brought him fuel enough to last for three\nnights. And the lion disappeared. And presently the lion returned,\nbearing a fine large roebuck. And he threw it down before Owain, who\nwent towards the fire with it.\n\nAnd Owain took the roebuck, and skinned it, and placed collops of its\nflesh upon skewers around the fire. The rest of the buck he gave to the\nlion to devour. While he was doing this, he heard a deep sigh near him,\nand a second, and a third. And Owain called out to know whether the\nsigh he heard proceeded from a mortal, and he received answer that it\ndid.\n\n\"Who art thou?\" said Owain.\n\n\"Truly,\" said the voice, \"I am Luned, the handmaiden of the Countess of\nthe Fountain.\"\n\n\"And what dost thou here?\" said Owain.\n\n\"I am imprisoned,\" said she, \"on account of the knight who came from\nArthur's court and married the countess. And he staid a short time\nwith her; but he afterwards departed for the court of Arthur, and has\nnot returned since. And he was the friend I loved best in the world.\nAnd two of the pages in the countess' chamber traduced him, and called\nhim a deceiver. And I told them that they two were not a match for him\nalone. So they imprisoned me in the stone vault, and said that I should\nbe put to death unless he came himself to deliver me by a certain day;\nand that is no further off than the day after to-morrow. And I have\nno one to send to seek him for me. And his name is Owain, the son of\nUrien.\"\n\n\"And art thou certain that if that knight knew all this he would come\nto thy rescue?\"\n\n\"I am most certain of it,\" said she.\n\nWhen the collops were cooked, Owain divided them into two parts,\nbetween himself and the maiden; and after they had eaten they talked\ntogether until the day dawned. And the next morning Owain inquired\nof the damsel if there was any place where he could get food and\nentertainment for that night.\n\n\"There is, lord,\" said she. \"Cross over yonder and go along the side\nof the river, and in a short time thou wilt see a great castle in\nwhich are many towers; and the earl who owns that castle is the most\nhospitable man in the world. There thou mayst spend the night.\"\n\nNever did sentinel keep stricter watch over his lord than the lion that\nnight over Owain.\n\nAnd Owain accoutred his horse, and passed across by the ford, and came\nin sight of the castle. And he entered it, and was honorably received.\nAnd his horse was well cared for, and plenty of fodder was placed\nbefore him. Then the lion went and laid down in the horse's manger;\nso that none of the people of the castle dared to approach him. The\ntreatment which Owain met with there was such as he had never known\nelsewhere; for every one was as sorrowful as though death had been\nupon him. And they went to meat; and the earl sat upon one side of\nOwain, and on the other side his only daughter. And Owain had never\nseen any more lovely than she. Then the lion came and placed himself\nbetween Owain's feet, and he fed him with every kind of food that he\ntook himself. And he never saw any thing equal to the sadness of the\npeople.\n\nIn the middle of the repast the earl began to bid Owain welcome.\n\nThen said Owain, \"Behold, it is time for thee to be cheerful.\"\n\n\"Heaven knows,\" said the earl, \"that it is not thy coming that makes us\nsorrowful; but we have cause enough for sadness and care.\"\n\n\"What is that?\" said Owain.\n\n\"I have two sons,\" replied the earl, \"and yesterday they went to the\nmountains to hunt. Now, there is on the mountain a monster who kills\nmen and devours them; and he seized my sons. And to-morrow is the\ntime he has fixed to be here; and he threatens that he will then slay\nmy sons before my eyes unless I will deliver into his hands this my\ndaughter. He has the form of a man; but in stature he is no less than a\ngiant.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Owain, \"that is lamentable. And which wilt thou do?\"\n\n\"Heaven knows,\" said the earl, \"it will be better that my sons should\nbe slain against my will than that I should voluntarily give up my\ndaughter to him to ill-treat and destroy.\"\n\nThen they talked about other things; and Owain staid there that night.\n\nThe next morning they heard an exceeding great clamor, which was caused\nby the coming of the giant with the two youths. And the earl was\nanxious both to protect his castle, and to release his two sons. Then\nOwain put on his armor, and went forth to encounter the giant. And the\nlion followed him. And, when the giant saw that Owain was armed, he\nrushed towards him and attacked him. And the lion fought with the giant\nmuch more fiercely than Owain did.\n\n\"Truly,\" said the giant, \"I should find no difficulty in fighting with\nthee, were it not for the animal that is with thee.\"\n\nUpon that, Owain took the lion back to the castle and shut the gate\nupon him; and then he returned to fight the giant as before. And the\nlion roared very loud, for he heard that it went hard with Owain. And\nhe climbed up till he reached the top of the earl's hall, and thence he\ngot to the top of the castle; and he sprang down from the walls, and\nwent and joined Owain. And the lion gave the giant a stroke with his\npaw which tore him from his shoulder to his hip, and his heart was laid\nbare. And the giant fell down dead. Then Owain restored the two youths\nto their father.\n\nThe earl besought Owain to remain with him; and he would not, but set\nforward towards the meadow where Luned was. And when he came there he\nsaw a great fire kindled, and two youths with beautiful curling auburn\nhair were leading the maiden to cast her into the fire. And Owain asked\nthem what charge they had against her. And they told him of the compact\nthat was between them, as the maiden had done the night before.\n\n\"And,\" said they, \"Owain has failed her: therefore we are taking her to\nbe burnt.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Owain, \"he is a good knight; and if he knew that the\nmaiden was in such peril I marvel that he came not to her rescue. But,\nif you will accept me in his stead, I will do battle with you.\"\n\n\"We will,\" said the youths.\n\nAnd they attacked Owain, and he was hard beset by them. And with that\nthe lion came to Owain's assistance, and they two got the better of the\nyoung men. And they said to him, \"Chieftain, it was not agreed that\nwe should fight, save with thyself alone; and it is harder for us to\ncontend with yonder animal than with thee.\"\n\nAnd Owain put the lion in the place where the maiden had been\nimprisoned, and blocked up the door with stones; and he went to fight\nwith the young men as before. But Owain had not his usual strength, and\nthe two youths pressed hard upon him. And the lion roared incessantly\nat seeing Owain in trouble. And he burst through the wall until he\nfound a way out, and rushed upon the young men, and instantly slew\nthem. So Luned was saved from being burned.\n\nThen Owain returned with Luned to the dominions of the Countess of the\nFountain. And when he went thence he took the countess with him to\nArthur's court, and she was his wife as long as she lived.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd then he took the road that led to the court of the savage black\nman, and Owain fought with him; and the lion did not quit Owain until\nhe had vanquished him. And when he reached the court of the savage\nblack man he entered the hall, and beheld four and twenty ladies, the\nfairest that could be seen. And the garments which they had on were not\nworth four and twenty pence, and they were as sorrowful as death. And\nOwain asked them the cause of their sadness. And they said, \"We are\nthe daughters of earls, and we all came here with our husbands, whom\nwe dearly loved. And we were received with honor and rejoicing. And we\nwere thrown into a state of stupor; and, while we were thus, the demon\nwho owns this castle slew all our husbands, and took from us our horses\nand our raiment and our gold and our silver. And the corpses of our\nhusbands are still in this house, and many others with them. And this,\nchieftain, is the cause of our grief; and we are sorry that thou art\ncome hither, lest harm should befall thee.\"\n\nAnd Owain was grieved when he heard this. And he went forth from the\ncastle, and he beheld a knight approaching him, who saluted him in a\nfriendly and cheerful manner as if he had been a brother. And this was\nthe savage black man.\n\n\"In very sooth,\" said Owain, \"it is not to seek thy friendship that I\nam here.\"\n\n\"In sooth,\" said he, \"thou shalt not find it then.\"\n\nAnd with that they charged each other, and fought furiously. And Owain\novercame him, and bound his hands behind his back. Then the black\nsavage besought Owain to spare his life, and spoke thus: \"My lord\nOwain,\" said he, \"it was foretold that thou shouldst come hither and\nvanquish me; and thou hast done so. I was a robber here, and my house\nwas a house of spoil; but grant me my life, and I will become the\nkeeper of an hospice, and I will maintain this house as an hospice for\nweak and for strong as long as I live, for the good of thy soul.\"\n\nAnd Owain accepted this proposal of him, and remained there that night.\n\nAnd the next day he took the four and twenty ladies and their horses\nand their raiment and what they possessed of goods and jewels, and\nproceeded with them to Arthur's court. And, if Arthur was rejoiced when\nhe saw him after he had lost him the first time, his joy was now much\ngreater. And, of those ladies, such as wished to remain in Arthur's\ncourt remained there, and such as wished to depart departed.\n\nAnd thenceforward Owain dwelt at Arthur's court, greatly beloved, as\nthe head of his household, until he went away with his followers; and\nthose were the army of three hundred ravens[9] which Kenverchyn had\nleft him. And wherever Owain went with these he was victorious.\n\nAnd this is the tale of The Lady of the Fountain.\n\n[Footnote 9: This strange army of ravens figures in a tale given\npresently--\"The Dream of Rhonabay.\"]\n\n\n\n\n             KILHWCH[10] AND OLWEN; OR, THE TWRCH TRWYTH.\n\n\n[Footnote 10: [Pronounced in two syllables \"Kil-hooch,\" the _oo_ sound\nprolonged or drawled and the _ch_ very guttural as in the vigorous\nutterance of Scotch lo_ch_, German _ach_, etc. So \"Twrch Trwyth\" like\n_Toorch Trooweth_.]]\n\n[Kilhwch, having grown to be a youth in the palace of his father, was\none day sent for by his stepmother, who said to him], \"I declare to\nthee that it is thy destiny not to be suited with a wife until thou\nobtain Olwen, the daughter of Yspaddaden Penkawr.\"\n\nAnd the youth blushed, and the love of the maiden diffused itself\nthrough all his frame, although he had never seen her. And his father\ninquired of him, \"What has come over thee, my son, and what aileth\nthee?\"\n\n\"My stepmother has declared to me that I shall never have a wife until\nI obtain Olwen, the daughter of Yspaddaden Penkawr.\"\n\n\"That will be easy for thee,\" answered his father. \"Arthur is thy\ncousin. Go, therefore, unto Arthur to cut thy hair, and ask this of him\nas a boon.\"\n\nAnd the youth pricked forth upon a steed with head dappled-gray, of\nfour winters old, firm of limb, with shell-formed hoofs, having a\nbridle of linked gold on his head, and upon him a saddle of costly\ngold.[11] And in the youth's hand were two spears of silver, sharp,\nwell-tempered, headed with steel, three ells in length, of an edge to\nwound the wind and cause blood to flow, and swifter than the fall of\nthe dewdrop from the blade of reed-grass upon the earth when the dew\nof June is at the heaviest. A gold-hilted sword was upon his thigh,\nthe blade of which was of gold, bearing a cross of inlaid gold of the\nhue of the lightning of heaven. His war-horn was of ivory. Before him\nwere two brindled white-breasted greyhounds, having strong collars of\nrubies about their necks reaching from the shoulder to the ear. And the\none that was on the left side bounded across to the right side, and the\none on the right to the left, and like two sea-swallows sported around\nhim. And his courser cast up four sods with his four hoofs, like four\nswallows in the air, about his head, now above, now below. About him\nwas a four-cornered cloth of purple; and an apple of gold was at each\ncorner, and every one of the apples was of the value of an hundred\nkine. And there was precious gold of the value of three hundred kine\nupon his shoes, and upon his stirrups, from his knee to the tip of his\ntoe. And the blade of grass bent not beneath him, so light was his\ncourser's tread, as he journeyed towards the gate of Arthur's palace.\n\n[Footnote 11: A wonderful bracing air seems to blow through this\ndescription. The superb details make up really a typic picture of youth\nin all times and countries.]\n\nSpoke the youth, \"Is there a porter?\"\n\n\"There is; and, if thou holdest not thy peace, small will be thy\nwelcome. I am Arthur's porter every first day of January. And, during\nevery other part of the year but this, the office is filled by Huandaw,\nand Gogigwc, and Llaeskenym, and Pennpingyon, who goes upon his head to\nsave his feet, like a rolling stone upon the floor of the court.\"\n\n\"Open the portal.\"\n\n\"I will not open it.\"\n\n\"Wherefore not?\"\n\n\"The knife is in the meat, and the drink is in the horn, and there is\nrevelry in Arthur's hall; and none may enter therein, but the son of a\nking of a privileged country, or a craftsman bringing his craft.\"\n\nSaid the youth, \"That will I not do. If thou openest the gate, it is\nwell. If thou dost not open it, I will bring disgrace upon thy lord,\nand evil report upon thee. And I will set up three shouts at this very\ngate, than which none were ever more deadly, from the top of Pengwaed\nin Cornwall, to the bottom of Dinsol in the north, and to Esgair Oervel\nin Ireland.\"\n\n\"What clamor soever thou mayest make,\" said Glewlwyd Gavaelvawr,\n\"against the laws of Arthur's palace, shalt thou not enter therein,\nuntil I first go and speak with Arthur.\"\n\nThen Glewlwyd went into the hall. And Arthur said to him, \"Hast thou\nnews from the gate?\"\n\n\"Half of my life is past, and half of thine. I was heretofore in Kaer\nSe and Asse, in Sach and Salach, in Lotor and Fotor; and I have been\nheretofore in India the Great and India the Lesser; and I was in\nthe battle of Dau Ynyr, when the twelve hostages were brought from\nLlychlyn; and I have also been in Europe, and in Africa, and in the\nislands of Corsica, and in Caer Brythwch and Brythach and Verthach; and\nI was present when formerly thou didst slay the family of Clis the son\nof Merin, and when thou didst slay Mil Du the son of Ducum, and when\nthou didst conquer Greece in the East; and I have been in Caer Oeth and\nAnnoeth, and in Caer Nevenhyr; nine supreme sovereigns, handsome men,\nsaw we there, but never did I behold a man of equal dignity with him\nwho is now at the door of the portal.\"\n\nThen said Arthur, \"If walking thou didst enter in here, return thou\nrunning. And every one that beholds the light, and every one that opens\nand shuts the eye, let them show him respect, and serve him; some with\ngold-mounted drinking-horns, others with collops cooked and peppered,\nuntil food and drink can be prepared for him. It is unbecoming to keep\nsuch a man as thou sayest he is in the wind and the rain.\"\n\nSaid Kai, \"By the hand of my friend, if thou would'st follow my\ncounsel, thou would'st not break through the laws of the court because\nof him.\"\n\n\"Not so, blessed Kai. It is an honor to us to be resorted to; and the\ngreater our courtesy the greater will be our renown, and our fame, and\nour glory.\"\n\nAnd Glewlwyd came to the gate, and opened the gate before him; and,\nalthough all dismounted upon the horseblock at the gate, yet did he not\ndismount, but rode in upon his charger. Then said Kilhwch, \"Greeting be\nunto thee, sovereign ruler of this island; and be this greeting no less\nunto the lowest than unto the highest.\"\n\n[Illustration: Kilhwch Riding into Arthur's Hall.]\n\n\"Greeting unto thee, also,\" said Arthur. \"Sit thou between two of my\nwarriors, and thou shalt have minstrels before thee; and thou shalt\nenjoy the privileges of a king born to a throne, as long as thou\nremainest here.\"\n\nSaid the youth, \"I came not here to consume meat and drink; but, if I\nobtain the boon that I seek, I will requite it thee, and extol thee.\nAnd, if I have it not, I will bear forth thy dispraise to the four\nquarters of the world, as far as thy renown has extended.\"\n\nThen said Arthur, \"Since thou wilt not remain here, chieftain, thou\nshalt receive the boon whatsoever thy tongue may name, as far as the\nwind dries, and the rain moistens, and the sun revolves, and the sea\nencircles, and the earth extends; save only my ship, and my mantle, and\nCaledvwlch, my sword, and Rhongomyant, my lance, and Wynebgwrthucher,\nmy shield, and Carnwenhau, my dagger, and Gwenhwyvar, my wife. Name\nwhat thou wilt.\"\n\n\"I would that thou bless my hair.\"\n\n\"That shall 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 inquired of him who he\nwas. \"For my heart warms unto thee, and I know that thou art come of my\nblood. Tell me, therefore, who thou art.\"\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said the youth. \"I am Kilhwch, the son of Kilydd,\nthe son of Prince Kelyddon by Goleuddydd my mother, the daughter of\nPrince Anlawdd.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said Arthur. \"Thou art my cousin. Whatsoever boon thou\nmayest ask, thou shalt receive, be it what it may that thy tongue shall\nname.\"\n\n\"I crave of thee, then, that thou obtain for me Olwen, the daughter\nof Yspaddaden Penkawr; and this boon I likewise seek at the hands of\nthy warriors. I seek it from Kai, and Geraint the son of Erbin, and\nOsla Gylleillvawr (who bore a short, broad dagger: when Arthur and his\nhosts came before a torrent, they would seek for a narrow place where\nthey might pass the water, and would lay the sheathed dagger across the\ntorrent, and it would form a bridge sufficient for the armies of the\nthree islands of Britain, and of the three islands adjacent, with their\nspoil); and Gilla Coes Hydd (he would clear three hundred acres at one\nbound: the chief leaper of Ireland was he); Sol, and Gwadyn Ossol, and\nGwadyn Odyeith (Sol could stand all day upon one foot; Gwadyn Ossol, if\nhe stood upon the top of the highest mountain in the world, it would\nbecome a level plain under his feet; Gwadyn Odyeith, the soles of his\nfeet emitted sparks of fire when they struck upon things hard, like the\nheated mass when drawn out of the forge: he cleared the way for Arthur\nwhen he came to any stoppage); and Gwevyl, the son of Gwestad (on the\nday that he was sad, he would let one of his lips drop below his waist,\nwhile he turned up the other like a cap upon his head); Uchtryd Varyf\nDraws (who spread his red untrimmed beard over the eight and forty\nrafters which were in Arthur's hall); Brys, the son of Bryssethach\n(from the Hill of the Black Fernbrake in North Britain); Clust, the\nson of Clustveinad (though he were buried seven cubits beneath the\nearth, he would hear the ant fifty miles off rise from her nest in the\nmorning), Medyr, the son of Methredydd (from Gelli Wic he could, in a\ntwinkling, shoot the wren through the two legs upon Esgeir Oervel in\nIreland); and Henwas Adeinawg, the son of Erim; and Henbedestyr, the\nson of Erim; and Sgilti Yscawndroed, the son of Erim (unto these three\nmen belonged these three qualities: with Henbedestyr there was not any\none who 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 go beyond it; and as to Sgilti Yscawndroed, when he intended\nto go upon a message for his lord, he never sought to find a path,\nbut knowing whither he was to go, if his way lay through a wood, he\nwent along the tops of the trees); and Hueil, the son of Kaw (he never\nyet made a request at the hand of any lord); and Taliesin, the chief\nof the bards; and Manawyddan, the son of Llyr; Bwlch and Kyfwlch and\nSefwlch, the sons of Cleddyf Kyfwlch (their three shields were three\ngleaming glitterers; their three spears were three pointed piercers;\ntheir three swords were three griding gashers,--Glas, Glessic, and\nGleisad; their three dogs, Call, Cuall, and Cavall; their three horses,\nHwyrdyddwd and Drwgdyddwd and Llwyrdyddwg; their three wives, Och and\nGarym and Diaspad; their three grandchildren, Lluched and Neved and\nEissiwed; their three daughters, Drwg and Gwaeth and Gwaethav Oll;\ntheir three handmaids, Eheubryd the daughter of Kyfwlch, Gorascwrn\nthe daughter of Nerth, Ewaedan the daughter of Kynvelyn Keudawd Pwyll\nthe half-man); and Morvran, the son of Tegid (no one struck him in\nthe battle of Camlan by reason of his ugliness; all thought he was an\nauxiliary devil; hair had he upon him like the hair of a stag); and\nSandde Bryd Angel (no one touched him with a spear in the battle of\nCamlan, because of his beauty; all thought he was a ministering angel);\nand Glwyddyn Saer (who constructed Ehangwen, Arthur's hall); for the\nsake of the golden-chained daughters of this island--for the sake of\nGwenhwyvar, its chief lady, and Gwennhwyach, her sister, and Rathtyeu,\nthe only daughter of Clemenhill, and Rhelemon, the daughter of Kai;\nMorvudd, the daughter of Urien Rheged; Gwenllian Deg, the majestic\nmaiden; Creiddylad,[12] the daughter of Lludd Llaw Ereint (she was the\nmost splendid maiden in the three islands of the mighty, and in the\nthree islands adjacent; and for her, Gwythyr the son of Greidawl, and\nGwynn the son of Nudd, fight every first of May until the day of doom).\"\n\n[Footnote 12: \"Creiddylad\" is the old Welsh name out of which the\nEnglish tongue has made \"Cordelia;\" and this lady is no other than\nthe loving daughter of King Lear. Lear's name in the Welsh originals\nlying far back beyond Shakspere's play is sometimes \"Llyr\" (as\nin \"Manawyddan, the son of Llyr,\" who gives name to one of the\nMabinogion), and sometimes, as here, \"Lludd Llaw Ereint.\"]\n\nAnd all these[13] did Kilhwch, son of Kilydd, adjure to obtain his boon.\n\n[Footnote 13: It would be the grossest injustice to the tongue and\nthe memory of our astounding Kilhwch not to mention carefully at this\npoint that the names of Arthur's warriors and attendants which I have\nhere given form but a small portion of the truly surprising list which\nhe actually pours forth in the original story, as he stands before\nthe king. These amount to more than two hundred; and there is no risk\nwhatever in saying that the resources of the English alphabet have\nnever met with a like strain as in the reproduction of them presented\nby Lady Guest. \"Uchtryd Ardywad Kad,\" and \"Gwrhyr Gwarthegvras,\" and\n\"Esgeir Gulhwch Govynkawn,\" and \"Drustwrn Hayarn,\" and \"Glewlwyd\nGavaelvawr,\" and \"Lloch Llawwynnyawc,\" may serve as examples. Kihwch\nrecites most of these without comment. I have selected those, but not\nall, to which he adds some parenthetic description. I have given them,\ntoo, in a different order from that of the original.]\n\nThen said Arthur, \"O chieftain! I have never heard of the maiden\nof whom thou speakest, nor of her kindred; but I will gladly send\nmessengers in search of her. Give me time to seek her.\"\n\nAnd the youth said, \"I will willingly grant from this night to that at\nthe end of the year to do so.\"\n\nThen Arthur sent messengers to every land within his dominions to seek\nfor the maiden; and at the end of the year Arthur's messengers returned\nwithout having gained any knowledge or intelligence concerning Olwen,\nmore than on the first day. Then said Kilhwch, \"Every one has received\nhis boon, and I yet lack mine. I will depart, and bear away thy honor\nwith me.\"\n\nThen said Kai, \"Rash chieftain! dost thou reproach Arthur? Go with us,\nand we will not part until thou dost confess that the maiden exists not\nin the world, or until we obtain her.\"\n\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\nand nine days without sleep. A wound from Kai's sword no physician\ncould heal. Very subtle was Kai. When it pleased him, he could render\nhimself as 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\na handbreadth below, his hand; and, when his companions were coldest,\nit was to them as fuel with which to light their fire.\n\nAnd Arthur called Bedwyr, who never shrank from any enterprise upon\nwhich Kai was bound. None was equal to him in swiftness throughout\nthis island, 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.\"\n\nFor as good a guide was he in a land which he had never seen as he was\nin 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\nwent into a savage country he might cast a charm and an illusion over\nthem, so 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\na great 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\nin the morning. And the second and the third day they journeyed, and\neven then scarcely could they reach so far. And, when they came before\nthe castle, they beheld a vast flock of sheep, which was boundless\nand without 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\nside was a shaggy mastiff, larger than a steed nine winters old. Never\nhad he lost even a lamb from his flock, much less a large sheep. He let\nno occasion ever pass without doing some hurt and harm. All the dead\ntrees and bushes in the plain he burnt with his breath down to the very\nground.\n\nThen said Kai, \"Gwrhyr Gwalstawt Ieithoedd, go thou, and salute yonder\nman.\"\n\n\"Kai,\" said he, \"I engaged not to go farther than thou thyself.\"\n\n\"Let us go then, together,\" answered Kai.\n\nSaid Menw, the son of Teirgwaedd, \"Fear not to go thither; for I will\ncast a spell upon the dog, so that he shall injure no one.\"\n\nAnd they went up to the mound whereon the herdsman was; and they said\nto him, \"Whose are the sheep that thou dost keep? and to whom does\nyonder castle belong?\"\n\n\"Stupid are ye, truly. Through the whole world is it known that this is\nthe castle of Yspaddaden Penkawr.\"\n\n\"And who art thou?\"\n\n\"I am called Custennin, the son of Dyfnedig; and my brother Yspaddaden\nPenkawr oppressed me because of my possessions. And ye, also--who are\nye?\"\n\n\"We are an embassy from Arthur, come to seek Olwen, the daughter of\nYspaddaden Penkawr.\"\n\n\"O men! the mercy of Heaven be upon you! Do not that for all the world.\nNone who ever came hither on this quest has returned alive.\"\n\nAnd the herdsman rose up. And, as he arose, Kilhwch gave unto him a\nring of gold. And he sought to put on the ring, but it was too small\nfor him: so he placed it in the finger of his glove. And he went home,\nand gave the glove to his spouse to keep. And she took the ring from\nthe glove when it was given her, and she said, \"Whence came this ring?\nFor thou art not wont to have good fortune.\"\n\n\"I went,\" said he, \"to the sea to seek for fish, and, lo, I saw a\ncorpse borne by the waves. And a fairer corpse than it did I never\nbehold. And from its finger did I take this ring.\"\n\n\"O man! does the sea permit its dead to wear jewels? Show me, then,\nthis body.\"\n\n\"O wife! him to whom this ring belonged thou shalt see here in the\nevening.\"\n\n\"And who is he?\" asked the woman.\n\n\"Kilhwch, the son of Kilydd, the son of Prince Kelyddon by Goleuddydd,\nthe daughter of Prince Anlawdd, his mother, who is come to seek Olwen\nas his wife.\"\n\nAnd, when she heard that, her feelings were divided between the joy\nthat she had that her nephew, the son of her sister, was coming to her,\nand sorrow, because she had never known any one depart alive who had\ncome on that quest.\n\nAnd they went forward to the gate of Custennin, the herdsman's\ndwelling. And, when she heard their footsteps approaching, she ran out\nwith joy to meet them. And Kai snatched a billet out of the pile. And,\nwhen she met them, she sought to throw her arms about their necks. And\nKai placed the log between her two hands, and she squeezed it so that\nit became a twisted coil.\n\n\"O woman!\" said Kai, \"if thou hadst squeezed me thus, none could ever\nagain have set their affections on me. Evil love were this.\"\n\nThey entered into the house, and were served; and, soon after, they all\nwent 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.\"\n\n\"This is but a remnant,\" said the woman. \"Three and twenty of my sons\nhas Yspaddaden Penkawr slain, and I have no more hope of this one than\nof the others.\"\n\nThen said Kai, \"Let him come and be a companion with me, and he shall\nnot be slain unless I also am slain with him.\"\n\nAnd they ate. And the woman asked them, \"Upon what errand come you\nhere?\"\n\n\"We come to seek Olwen for this youth.\"\n\nThen said the woman, \"In the name of Heaven, since no one from the\ncastle hath yet seen you, return again whence you came.\"\n\n\"Heaven is our witness, that we will not return until we have seen the\nmaiden.\"\n\nSaid Kai, \"Does she ever come hither, so that she may be seen?\"\n\n\"She comes here every Saturday, to wash her head; and, in the vessel\nwhere she washes, she leaves all her rings, and she never either comes\nherself, or sends any messengers, to fetch them.\"\n\n\"Will she come here if she is sent to?\"\n\n\"Heaven knows that I will not destroy my soul, nor will I betray those\nthat trust me. Unless you will pledge me your faith that you will not\nharm her, I will not send to her.\"\n\n\"We pledge it,\" said they. So a message was sent; and she came.\n\nThe maiden was clothed in a robe of flame-colored 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\nand her fingers than the blossoms of the wood-anemone amidst the spray\nof the meadow fountain. The eye of the trained hawk, the glance of the\nthree-mewed falcon, was not brighter than hers. Her bosom was more\nsnowy than the breast of the white swan; her cheek was redder than the\nreddest roses. Whoso beheld her was filled with her love. Four white\ntrefoils sprung up wherever she trod. And therefore was she called\nOlwen.\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\nspeak evil of thee and of me. Many a day have I loved thee.\"\n\n\"I cannot do this; for I have pledged my faith to my father not to go\nwithout his counsel, for his life will last only until the time of my\nespousals. Whatever is must be. But I will give thee advice, if thou\nwilt take it. Go, ask me of my father, and that which he shall require\nof thee, grant it, and thou wilt obtain me; but, if thou deny him any\nthing, thou wilt not obtain me, and it will be well for thee if thou\nescape with thy life.\"\n\n\"I promise all this, if occasion offer,\" said he.\n\nShe returned to her chamber, and they all rose up, and followed her to\nthe castle. And they slew the nine porters that were at the nine gates,\nin silence. And they slew the nine watch-dogs, without one of them\nbarking. And they went forward to the hall.\n\n\"The greeting of Heaven and of man be unto thee Yspaddaden Penkawr,\"\nsaid they.\n\n\"And you--wherefore come you?\"\n\n\"We come to ask thy daughter Olwen for Kilhwch, the son of Kilydd, the\nson of Prince Kelyddon.\"\n\n\"Where are my pages and my servants? Raise up the forks beneath my two\neyebrows, which have fallen over my eyes, that I may see the fashion of\nmy son-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\nwith it through the knee. 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 gadfly.\nCursed be the smith who forged it, and the anvil whereon it was\nwrought! So sharp is it!\"\n\nThat night also they took up their abode in the house of Custennin\nthe herdsman. The next day, with the dawn, they arrayed themselves in\nhaste, and proceeded to the castle, and entered the hall; and they\nsaid, \"Yspaddaden Penkawr, give us thy daughter in consideration of\nher dower and her maiden fee, which we will pay to thee and to her two\nkinswomen likewise. And, unless thou wilt do so, thou shalt meet with\nthy death on her account.\"\n\nThen he said, \"Her four great-grandmothers and her four\ngreat-grandsires are yet alive: it is needful that I take counsel of\nthem.\"\n\n\"Be it so,\" answered they. \"We will go to meat.\"\n\nAs they rose up, he took the second dart that was beside him, and\ncast it after them. And Menw, the son of Gwaedd, caught it, and\nflung it back at him, and wounded him in the centre of the breast,\nso that it came out at the small of his back. \"A cursed ungentle\nson-in-law, truly!\" said he. \"The hard iron pains me like the bite of a\nhorse-leech. Cursed be the hearth whereon it was heated, and the smith\nwho formed it! So sharp is it! Henceforth, whenever I go up a hill, I\nshall have a scant in my breath and a pain in my chest, and I shall\noften loathe my food.\" And they went to 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\nare my attendants? Lift up the forks of my eyebrows, which have fallen\nover my eyeballs, that I may see the fashion of my son-in-law.\"\n\nThen they arose; and, as they did so, Yspaddaden Penkawr took the third\npoisoned dart, 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\nburn, and I shall have a giddiness every new moon. Cursed be the fire\nin which it was forged! Like the bite of a mad dog is the stroke of\nthis poisoned iron.\" And they went to meat.\n\nAnd the next day they came again to the palace, and they said, \"Shoot\nnot at us any more, unless thou desirest such hurt and harm and torture\nas thou now hast, and even more. Give me thy daughter, and, if thou\nwilt not give her, thou shalt receive thy death because of her.\"\n\n\"Where is he that seeks my daughter? Come hither, where I may see\nthee.\" And they placed him in a chair face to face with him.\n\nSaid Yspaddaden Penkawr, \"Is it thou that seekest my daughter?\"\n\n\"It is I,\" answered Kilhwch.\n\n\"I must have thy pledge that thou wilt not do towards me otherwise than\nis just, and, when I have gotten that which I shall name, my daughter\nthou shalt have.\"\n\n\"I promise thee that willingly,\" said Kilhwch. \"Name what thou wilt.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" said he. \"Seest thou yonder vast hill?\"\n\n\"I see it.\"\n\n\"I require that it be rooted up, and that the grubbings be burned for\nmanure on the face of the land, and that it be ploughed and sown in one\nday, and in one day that the grain ripen. And of that wheat I intend to\nmake food and liquor fit for the wedding of thee and my daughter. And\nall this I require done in one day.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though this be easy for thee, there is yet that which will not be so.\nNo husbandman can till or prepare this land, so wild is it, except\nAmaethon, the son of Don; and he will not come with thee by his own\nfree 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\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get,--the\ntwo dun oxen of Gwlwlyd, 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.\"\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\nyellow 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\ntwo-horned oxen, one of which is beyond, and the other this side of,\nthe peaked mountain, yoked together in the same plough. And these are\nNynniaw and Peibiaw,[14] whom God turned into oxen on account of their\nsins.\"\n\n[Footnote 14: See the story of Nynniaw and Peibiaw in the Introduction.]\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\nI have the measure by me still. I require to have the flax to sow in\nthe new land yonder, that when it grows up it may make a white wimple\nfor my daughter's head on the day of thy wedding.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it 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\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"The vessel of Llwyr, the son of Llwyryon, which is of the utmost\nvalue. There is no other vessel in the world that can hold this drink.\nOf his free 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\nthat it 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\nbe found 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\nthat it 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\nnot give it of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel\nhim.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it 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. 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\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get,--the\ncaldron 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\nthat it 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\nthat it 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\nthe son 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\nwill not trust any one to keep the tusk, except Gado of North Britain.\nNow the threescore Cantrevs of North Britain are under his sway; and of\nhis own free will he will not come out of his kingdom, and thou wilt\nnot be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. I\nmust spread out my hair in order to shave it, and it will never be\nspread out unless I have the blood of the jet black sorceress, the\ndaughter of the pure white sorceress, from Pen Nant Govid on the\nconfines of Hell.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nI will not have the blood, unless I have it warm; and no vessels\nwill keep warm the liquid that is put therein, except the bottles of\nGwyddolwyn Gorr, which preserve the heat of the liquor that is put into\nthem in the east until they arrive at the west. And he will not give\nthem 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\nthat it 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\nthat it 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\ncan arrange my hair, on account of its rankness, except the comb and\nscissors that are between the two ears of Twrch Trwyth, the son of\nPrince Tared. He will not give them of his own free will, and thou wilt\nnot be able to compel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it 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\nof Greid, the son of Eri.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it 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\nthat it 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 will hold the leash,\nexcept the collar of Canhastyr Canllaw.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it 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\nthat it 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\ndog, except Mabon, the son of Modron. He was taken from his mother when\nthree nights old, and it is not known where he now is, nor whether he\nis living or dead.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not\nget,--Gwynn Mygdwn, the horse of Gweddw, that is as swift as the wave,\nto carry Mabon, the son of Modron, to hunt the boar Trwyth. He will not\ngive him 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\nthat it 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\nto seek for him. He is his cousin.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nGarselit the Gwyddelian 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\nthat it 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\nto him. And the leash will be of no use, should he be dead, because it\nwill be brittle.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it 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\nwhelps, except Kynedyr Wyllt, the son of Hettwn Glafyrawc. He is nine\ntimes more wild than the wildest beast upon the mountains. Him wilt\nthou never get, neither wilt thou ever get my daughter.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it 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,\nwhom God 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\nthat it 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.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it 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 it\nwill 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\nthat it 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\nare as swift as the gale of wind, and they were never let loose upon a\nbeast, that they did not kill him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not\nget,--Arthur and his companions to hunt the Twrch Trwyth. He is a\nmighty man, and he will not come for thee, neither wilt thou be able to\ncompel him.\"\n\n\"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nThe Twrch Trwyth cannot be hunted, unless thou get Bwlch and Kyfwlch\n[and Sefwlch], the grandsons of Cleddyf Difwlch. Their three shields\nare three 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, Och\nand Garam and Diaspad. Their three grandchildren, Lluched and Vyned\nand Eissiwed. Their three daughters, Drwg and Gwaeth and Gwaethav Oli.\nTheir three handmaids [Eheubryd, the daughter of Kyfwlch; Gorasgwrn,\nthe daughter of Nerth; and Gwaedan, the daughter of Kynvelyn]. These\nthree men shall sound the horn, and all the others shall shout, so that\nall 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\nthat it 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\nthat it will not be easy.\"\n\n\"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.\nDifficulties shalt thou meet with, and nights without sleep, in\nseeking this, and, if thou obtain it not, neither shalt thou obtain my\ndaughter.\"\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\nmy daughter while thou art seeking these things; and, when thou hast\ncompassed all these marvels, thou shalt have my daughter for thy wife.\"\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.\nAnd they spoke unto him: \"Whence comest thou, O man?\"\n\n\"From the castle which you see yonder.\"\n\n\"Whose castle is that?\" asked they.\n\n\"Stupid are ye, truly, O men! There is no one in the world that does\nnot know to whom this castle belongs. It is the castle of Gwrnach the\nGiant.\"\n\n\"What treatment is there for guests and strangers that alight in that\ncastle?\"\n\n\"O chieftain, Heaven protect thee! No guest ever returned thence alive,\nand 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?\"\n\n\"There is. And thou, if thy tongue be not mute in thy head, wherefore\ndost thou call?\"\n\n\"Open the gate.\"\n\n\"I will not open it.\"\n\n\"Wherefore wilt thou not?\"\n\n\"The knife is in the meat, and the drink is in the horn, and there is\nrevelry in the hall of Gwrnach the Giant, and except for a craftsman\nwho brings his craft the gate will not be opened to-night.\"\n\n\"Verily, porter,\" then said Kai, \"my craft bring I with me.\"\n\n\"What is thy craft?\"\n\n\"The best burnisher of swords am I in the world.\"\n\n\"I will go and tell this unto Gwrnach the Giant, and I will bring thee\nan answer.\"\n\nSo the porter went in; and Gwrnach said to him, \"Hast thou any news\nfrom the gate?\"\n\n\"I have. There is a party at the door of the gate who desire to come\nin.\"\n\n\"Didst thou inquire of them if they possessed any art?\"\n\n\"I did inquire,\" said he; \"and one told me that he was well skilled in\nthe burnishing of swords.\"\n\n\"We have need of him, then. For some time have I sought for some one to\npolish my sword, and could find no one. Let this man enter, since he\nbrings 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, \"O man! is it true\nthat is reported of thee,--that thou knowest how to burnish swords?\"\n\n\"I know full well how to do so,\" answered Kai.\n\nThen was the sword of Gwrnach brought to him. And Kai took a blue\nwhetstone from under his arm, and asked him whether he would have it\nburnished white or blue.\n\n\"Do with it as it seems good to thee, and as thou would'st if it were\nthine own.\"\n\nThen Kai polished one-half of the blade, and put it in his hand. \"Will\nthis please thee?\" asked he.\n\n\"I would rather than all that is in my dominions that the whole of\nit were like unto this. It is a marvel to me that such a man as thou\nshould be without a companion.\"\n\n\"O noble sir! I have a companion, albeit he is not skilled in this art.\"\n\n\"Who may he be?\"\n\n\"Let the porter go forth, and I will tell him whereby he may know him.\nThe head of his lance will leave its shaft, and draw blood from the\nwind, and will descend upon its shaft again.\"\n\nThen the gate was opened, and Bedwyr entered. And Kai said, \"Bedwyr is\nvery skilful, although 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\nonly son 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. And his companions said unto the\nson of Custennin, \"Thou hast done this: thou art the best of all men.\"\nAnd thenceforth he was called Goreu, the son of Custennin. Then they\ndispersed 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\nthe Giant, to see if he were pleased with his work. And the Giant said,\n\"The work is good: I am content therewith.\"\n\nSaid Kai, \"It is thy scabbard that hath rusted thy sword. Give it to\nme, that I may take out the wooden sides of it, and put in new ones.\"\nAnd he took the scabbard from him, and the sword in the other hand.\nAnd he came and stood over against the Giant, as if he would have put\nthe sword into the scabbard; and with it he struck at the head of\nthe Giant, and cut off his head at one blow. Then they despoiled the\ncastle, and took from it what goods and jewels they would. And again\non the same day, at the beginning of the year, they came to Arthur's\ncourt, bearing with them the sword of Gwrnach the Giant.\n\nNow, when they told Arthur how they had sped, Arthur said, \"Which of\nthese marvels will it be best for us to seek first?\"\n\n\"It will be best,\" said they, \"to seek Mabon, the son of Modron; and\nhe will not be found, unless we first find Eidoel, the son of Aer, his\nkinsman.\"\n\nThen Arthur rose up, and the warriors of the islands of Britain with\nhim, to seek for Eidoel; and they proceeded until they came before the\nCastle of Glivi, where Eidoel was imprisoned. Glivi stood on the summit\nof his 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.\"\n\nSaid Arthur, \"Not to injure thee came I hither, but to seek for the\nprisoner that is with thee.\"\n\n\"I will give thee my prisoner, though I had not thought to give him up\nto any one, and therewith shalt thou have my 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.\"\n\nThen said Arthur, \"It were well for thee, Gwrhyr Gwalstawd Ieithoedd,\nto go upon this quest; for thou knowest all languages, and art familiar\nwith 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\nold, from between his mother and the wall.\"\n\nAnd the Ousel answered, \"When I first came here, there was a smith's\nanvil in this place, and I was then a young bird. And from that time no\nwork has been done upon it, save the pecking of my beak every evening;\nand now there is not so much as the size of a nut remaining thereof;\nyet the vengeance of Heaven be upon me, if, during all that time, I\nhave ever heard of the man for whom you inquire. Nevertheless I will\ndo that which is right, and that which it is fitting that I should do\nfor an embassy from Arthur. There is a race of animals who were formed\nbefore 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\nhave not heard of any animal older than thou. Say, knowest thou aught\nof Mabon, the son of Modron, who was taken from his mother when three\nnights old?\"\n\nThe Stag said, \"When first I came hither, there was a plain all around\nme, without any trees save one oak sapling, which grew up to be an oak\nwith an hundred branches. And that oak has since perished; so that now\nnothing remains of it but the withered stump. And from that day to\nthis I have been here; yet have I never heard of the man for whom you\ninquire. 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\nof Cwm Cawlwyd, here is an embassy from Arthur. Knowest thou aught of\nMabon, the son of Modron, who was taken, after three nights, from his\nmother?\"\n\n\"If I knew, I would tell you. When first I came hither, the wide\nvalley you see was a wooded glen. And a race of men came and rooted\nit up. And there grew there a second wood; and this wood is the third.\nMy wings, are they not withered stumps? Yet all this time, even\nuntil to-day, I have never heard of the man for whom you inquire.\nNevertheless, I will be the guide of Arthur's embassy until you come to\nthe place where is the oldest animal in this world, and the one that\nhas travelled most,--the Eagle of Gwern Abwy.\"\n\nGwrhyr said, \"Eagle of Gwern Abwy, we have come to thee, an embassy\nfrom Arthur, to ask thee if thou knowest aught of Mabon, the son of\nModron, who was taken from his mother when he was three nights old.\"\n\nThe Eagle said, \"I have been here for a great space of time, and when I\nfirst came hither there was a rock here, from the top of which I pecked\nat the stars every evening; and now it is not so much as a span high.\nFrom that day to this I have been here, and I have never heard of the\nman for whom you inquire, except once, when I went in search of food\nas far as Llyn Llyw. And when I came there, I struck my talons into a\nsalmon, thinking he would serve me as food for a long time. But he drew\nme into the deep, and I was scarcely able to escape from him. After\nthat, I went with my whole kindred to attack him, and to try to destroy\nhim; but he sent messengers, and made peace with me, and came and\nbesought me to take fifty fish spears out of his back. Unless he know\nsomething of him whom you seek, I cannot tell who may. However, I will\nguide you to the place where he is.\"\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.\"\n\n\"As much as I know I will tell thee. With every tide I go along the\nriver upwards until I come near to the walls of Gloucester, and there\nhave I found such wrong as I never found elsewhere. And to the end that\nye may give credence thereto let one of you go thither upon each of my\ntwo shoulders.\"\n\nSo Kai and Gwrhyr Gwalstawd Ieithoedd went upon the two shoulders of\nthe salmon, and they proceeded until they came unto the wall of the\nprison, and they heard a great wailing and lamenting from the dungeon.\nSaid Gwrhyr, \"Who is it that laments in this house of stone?\"\n\n\"Alas! there is reason enough for whoever is here to lament. It is\nMabon, the son of Modron, who is here imprisoned; and no imprisonment\nwas ever so grievous as mine,--neither that of Lludd Llaw Ereint, nor\nthat of Greid, the son of Eri.\"\n\n\"Hast thou hope of being released for gold, or for silver, or for any\ngifts of wealth, or through battle and fighting?\"\n\n\"By fighting will whatever I may gain be obtained.\"\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\nwarriors of the island, and they journeyed as far as Gloucester, to\nthe place where Mabon was in prison. Kai and Bedwyr went upon the\nshoulders of the fish, whilst the warriors of Arthur attacked the\ncastle. And Kai broke through the wall into the dungeon, and brought\naway the prisoner upon his back whilst the fight was going on between\nthe warriors. And Arthur returned 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?\"\n\n\"It will be best to seek for the two cubs of Gast Rhymhi.\"\n\n\"Is it known,\" asked Arthur, \"where she is?\"\n\n\"She is in Aber Deu Cleddyf,\" said one.\n\nThen Arthur went to the house of Tringad in Aber Cleddyf, and he\ninquired of him whether he had heard of her there.\n\n\"In what form may she be?\"\n\n\"She is in the form of a she-wolf,\" said he; \"and with her there are\ntwo cubs.\"\n\n\"She has often slain my herds, and she is there below in a cave in Aber\nCleddyf.\"\n\nSo Arthur went in his ship Prydwen, by sea, and the others went by\nland, to hunt her. And they surrounded her and her two cubs, and God\ndid change them again for Arthur into their own form. And the host of\nArthur dispersed themselves into parties of one and two.\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\nhe sprang forward, and went towards it. And when he came there he drew\nhis 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.\"\n\nThen they fetched the nine bushels of flaxseed which Yspaddaden Penkawr\nhad required of Kilhwch, and they brought the full measure without\nlacking any, except one flaxseed, and that the lame pismire brought in\nbefore night.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAs Kai and Bedwyr sat on a beacon cairn on the summit of Plinlimmon, in\nthe highest wind that ever was in the world, they looked around them,\nand saw a great smoke towards the south afar off which did not bend\nwith the wind. Then said Kai, \"By the hand of my friend, behold, yonder\nis the fire of a robber!\"\n\nThen they hastened towards the smoke, and they came so near to it that\nthey could see Dillus Varvawc scorching a wild boar.\n\n\"Behold, yonder is the greatest robber that ever fled from Arthur,\"\nsaid Bedwyr unto Kai. \"Dost thou know him?\"\n\n\"I do know him,\" answered Kai. \"He is Dillus Varvawc; and no leash in\nthe world will be able to hold Drudwyn, the cub of Greid, the son\nof Eri, save a leash made from the beard of him thou seest yonder.\nAnd even that will be useless, unless his beard be plucked alive with\nwooden tweezers; for if dead it will be brittle.\"\n\n\"What thinkest thou that we should do concerning this?\" said Bedwyr.\n\n\"Let us suffer him,\" said Kai, \"to eat as much as he will of the meat,\nand after that he will fall asleep.\"\n\nAnd during that time they employed themselves in making the wooden\ntweezers. And when Kai knew certainly that he was asleep he made a pit\nunder his feet, the largest in the world, and he struck him a violent\nblow, and squeezed him into the pit. And there they twitched out his\nbeard completely with the wooden tweezers; and after that they slew him\naltogether.\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 into\nArthur's hand. Then 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\nin Arthur's troubles, nor for the slaying of his men, would Kai come\nforward to his aid forever after.\n\nSaid Arthur, \"Which of the marvels is it best for us now to seek?\"\n\n\"It is 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\nshe had become his bride, Gwyn ap Nudd came and carried her away by\nforce; and Gwythyr, the son of Greidawl, gathered his host together,\nand went to fight with Gwyn ap Nudd. But Gwyn overcame him, and\ncaptured Greid, the son of Eri, and Glinneu, the son of Taran, and\nGwrgwst Ledlwm, and Dynvarth, his son. And he captured Penn, the son of\nNethawg, and Nwython, and Kyledyr Wyllt, his son.\n\nWhen Arthur heard of this, he went to the North, and summoned Gwyn ap\nNudd before him, and set free the nobles whom he had put in prison,\nand made peace between Gwyn ap Nudd, and Gwythyr, the son of Greidawl.\nAnd this was the peace that was made: that the maiden should remain\nin her father's house, without advantage to either of them; and that\nGwyn ap Nudd, and Gwythyr, the son of Griedawl, 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\nMygdwn, Gweddw's horse, and the leash of Cwrs Cant Ewin.\n\nAnd after that Arthur went into Armorica, and with him Mabon, the son\nof Mellt, and Gware Gwallt Euryn, to seek the two dogs of Glythmyr\nLedewic. And when he had got them, he went to the west of Ireland in\nsearch of Gwrgi Severi; and Odgar, the son of Aedd, King of Ireland,\nwent with him. And thence went Arthur into the North, and captured\nKyledyr Wyllt; and he went after Yskithyrwyn Benbaedd. And Mabon, the\nson of Mellt, came with the two dogs of Glythmyr Ledewic in his hand,\nand Drudwyn, the cub of Greid, the son of Eri. And Arthur went himself\nto the chase, leading his own dog, Cavall. And Kaw of North Britain\nmounted Arthur's mare, Llamrei, and was first in the attack. Then Kaw\nof North Britain wielded a mighty axe, and absolutely daring he came\nvaliantly up to the boar, and clave his head in twain. And Kaw took\naway the tusk. Now the boar was not slain by the dogs that Yspaddaden\nhad mentioned, but by Cavall, Arthur's own dog.\n\nAnd after Yskithyrwyn Benbaedd was killed, Arthur and his host\ndeparted to Gelli Wic in Cornwall. And thence he sent Menw, the son of\nTeirgwaedd, to see if the precious things were between the two ears of\nTwrch Trwyth, since it were useless to encounter him if they were not\nthere. Albeit it was certain where he was, for he had laid waste the\nthird part of Ireland. And Menw went to seek for him, and he met with\nhim in Ireland, in Esgeir Oervel. And Menw took the form of a bird; and\nhe descended upon the top of his lair, and strove to snatch away one of\nthe precious things from him; but he carried away nothing but one of\nhis bristles. And the boar rose up angrily, and shook himself so that\nsome of his venom fell upon Menw, and he was never well from that day\nforward.\n\nAfter this, Arthur sent an embassy to Odgar, the son of Aedd, King\nof Ireland, to ask for the caldron of Diwrnach Wyddel, his purveyor.\nAnd Odgar commanded him to give it. But Diwrnach said, \"Heaven is my\nwitness, if it would avail him any thing even to look at it, he should\nnot do so.\"\n\nAnd the embassy of Arthur returned from Ireland with this denial. And\nArthur set forward with a small retinue, and entered into Prydwen, his\nship, and went over to Ireland. And they proceeded into the house of\nDiwrnach Wyddel. And the hosts of Odgar saw their strength. When they\nhad eaten and drunk as much as they desired, Arthur demanded to have\nthe caldron. And he answered, \"If I would have given it to any one, I\nwould 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\nthe caldron, and placed it upon the back of Hygwyd, Arthur's servant,\nwho was brother, by the mother's side, to Arthur's servant, Cachamwri.\nHis office was always to carry Arthur's caldron, and to place fire\nunder it. And Llenlleawg Wyddel seized Caledvwlch, and brandished it.\nAnd they slew Diwrnach Wyddel and his company. Then came the Irish, and\nfought with them. And when he had put them to flight Arthur with his\nmen went forward to the ship, carrying away the caldron full of Irish\nmoney. And he disembarked at the house of Llwydden, the son of Kelcoed,\nat Porth Kerddin in Dyved. And there is the measure of the caldron.\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\nall that were chosen footmen and valiant horsemen. And with all these\nhe went 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.\nThen the men of Ireland came unto Arthur, and brought him provisions.\nAnd Arthur went as far as Esgeir Oervel, in Ireland, to the place where\nthe Boar Trwyth was with his seven young pigs. And the dogs were let\nloose upon him from all sides. That day until evening the Irish fought\nwith him: nevertheless, he laid waste the fifth part of Ireland. And on\nthe day following, the household of Arthur fought with him, and they\nwere worsted by him, and got no advantage. And the third day Arthur\nhimself encountered him, and he fought with him nine nights and nine\ndays, without so much as killing even one little pig. The warriors\ninquired of Arthur what was the origin of that swine; and he told them\nthat he was once a king, and that God had transformed him into a swine\nfor his sins.\n\nThen Arthur sent Gwrhyr Gwalstawt Ieithoedd to endeavor to speak with\nhim. And Gwrhyr assumed the form of a bird, and alighted upon the\ntop of the lair, where he was with the seven young pigs. And Gwrhyr\nGwalstawt Ieithoedd asked him, \"By him who turned you into this form,\nif you can speak, let some one of you, I beseech you, come and talk\nwith Arthur.\"\n\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\nthe answer that Grugyn made, \"By him who turned us into this form, we\nwill not do so, and we will not speak with Arthur. That we have been\ntransformed thus is enough for us to suffer, without your coming here\nto fight with us.\"\n\n\"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\nTrwyth.\"\n\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\nthat we 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 Arthur 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\nCleddyf, of man and beast, before the coming of Arthur.\n\nNow when Arthur approached, Twrch Trwyth went on as far as Preseleu,\nand Arthur and his hosts followed him thither, and Arthur sent men to\nhunt him,--Eli and Trachmyr leading Drutwyn, the whelp of Greid, the\nson of Eri; and Gwarthegyd, the son of Kaw, in another quarter, with\nthe two dogs of Glythmyr Ledewig; and Bedwyr leading Cavall, Arthur's\nown dog. And all the warriors ranged themselves around the Nyver. And\nthere came there the three sons of Cleddyf Divwlch, men who had gained\nmuch fame at the slaying of Yskithyrwyn Penbaedd; and they went on from\nGlyn Nyver, and came to Cwm Kerwyn.\n\nAnd there Twrch Trwyth made a stand, and slew four of Arthur's\nchampions,--Gwarthegyd the son of Kaw, and Tarawc of Allt Clwydd, and\nRheidwn the son of Eli Atver, and Iscovan Hael. And after he had slain\nthese men he made a second stand in the same place. And there he slew\nGwydre the son of Arthur, and Garselit Wyddel, and Glew the son of\nYsgawd, and Iscawyn the 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\nhim. And he slew Huandaw and Gogigwr and Penpingon, three attendants\nupon Glewlwyd Gavaelvawr, so that Heaven knows he had not an attendant\nremaining, excepting only Llaesgevyn, a man from whom no one ever\nderived any good. And together with these he slew many of the men of\nthat country, and Gwlydyn Saer, Arthur's chief architect.\n\nThen Arthur overtook him at Pelumyawc; and there he slew Madawc the\nson of Teithyon, and Gwyn the son of Tringad, the son of Neved, and\nEiryawn Penllorau. Thence he went to Aberteivi, where he made another\nstand, and where he slew Kyflas the son of Kynan, and Gwilenhin, King\nof France. Then he went as far as Glyn Ystu, and there the men and the\ndogs 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\nnever got sight of him until then. So he set men and dogs upon him,\nand thereupon he started off, and went to Mynydd Amanw. And there one\nof his young pigs was killed. Then they set upon him life for life,\nand Twrch Llawin was slain; and then there was slain another of the\nswine, Gwys was his name. After that, he went on to Dyffryn Amanw, and\nthere Banw and Bennwig were killed. Of all his pigs, there went with\nhim alive from that place none save Grugyn Gwallt Ereint and Liwvdawg\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,\nthe King of Armorica, and Llygatrudd Emys, and Gwrbothu, Arthur's\nuncles, his mother'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\nmany of my men, but by the valor of warriors while I live he shall not\ngo into Cornwall. And I will not follow him any longer, but I will\noppose him life to life. Do ye as ye will.\"\n\nAnd he resolved that he would send a body of knights, with the dogs of\nthe island, as far as Euyas, who should return thence to the Severn,\nand that tried warriors should traverse the island, and force him\ninto Severn. And Mabon, the son of Modron, came up with him at the\nSevern, upon Gwynn Mygddon, the horse of Gweddw, and Goreu the son of\nCustennin, and Menw the son of Teirgwaedd. This was betwixt Llyn Lliwan\nand Aber Gwy. And Arthur fell upon him together with the champions\nof Britain. And Osla Kyllellvawr drew near, and Manawyddan the son\nof Llyr, and Kacmwri the servant of Arthur, and Gwyngelli; and they\nseized hold of him, catching him first by his feet, and plunged him\nin the Severn, so that it overwhelmed him. On the one side Mabon the\nson of Modron spurred his steed, and snatched his razor from him; and\nKyledyr Wyllt came up with him on the other side, upon another steed,\nin the Severn, and took from him the scissors. But before they could\nobtain the comb, he had regained the ground with his feet, and from\nthe moment that he reached the shore, neither dog, nor man, nor horse\ncould overtake him until he came to Cornwall. If they had had trouble\nin getting the jewels from him, much more had they in seeking to save\nthe two men from being drowned. Kacmwri, as they drew him forth, was\ndragged 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\nto what they encountered in seeking the comb. But from one difficulty\nto another, the comb was at length obtained. And then he was hunted\nfrom Cornwall, and driven straight forward into the deep sea. And\nthenceforth it was never known whither he went, and Aned and Aethlem\nwith him. Then went Arthur to Gelliwic in Cornwall, to anoint himself,\nand to rest from his fatigues.\n\nSaid Arthur, \"Is there any one of the marvels yet unobtained?\"\n\nSaid one of his men, \"There is,--the blood of the witch Orddu, the\ndaughter of the witch Owen of Penn Nant Govid, on the confines of Hell.\"\n\nArthur set forth towards the North, and came to the place where was\nthe witch's cave. And Gwyn ab Nudd, and Gwythyr the son of Greidawl,\ncounselled him to send Kacmwri and Hygwyd his brother to fight with\nthe witch. And as they entered the cave, the witch seized upon them,\nand she caught Hygwyd by the hair of his head, and threw him on the\nfloor beneath her. And Kacmwri caught her by the hair of her head, and\ndragged her to the earth from off Hygwyd; but she turned again upon\nthem both, and drove them 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\nHiramreu and Hireidil go to the cave.\"\n\nSo they went. But if great was the trouble of the first two that went,\nmuch greater was that of these two. And Heaven knows that not one of\nthe four could move from the spot, until they placed them all upon\nLlamrei, Arthur's mare. And then Arthur rushed to the door of the cave;\nand at the door he struck at the witch with Carnwennan, his dagger, and\nclove her in twain, so that she fell in two parts. And Kaw of North\nBritain took the blood of the witch, and kept it.\n\nThen Kilhwch set forward, and Goreu, the son of Custennin, with him,\nand as many as wished ill to Yspaddaden Penkawr. And they took the\nmarvels with them to his court. And Kaw of North Britain came and\nshaved his beard, skin, and flesh clean off to the very bone from ear\nto ear.\n\n\"Art thou shaved, man?\" said Kilhwch.\n\n\"I am shaved,\" answered he.\n\n\"Is thy daughter mine now?\"\n\n\"She is thine,\" said he; \"but therefor needest thou not thank me,\nbut Arthur who hath accomplished this for thee. By my free will thou\nshould'st never have had her; for with her I lose my life.\"\n\nThen Goreu, the son of Custennin, seized him by the hair of his head,\nand dragged him after him to the keep, and cut off his head, and placed\nit on a stake on the citadel. Then they took possession of his castle\nand of his treasures.\n\nAnd Olwen became Kilhwch's bride, and she continued to be his wife as\nlong as she lived. And the hosts of Arthur dispersed themselves, each\nman to his own country. And thus did Kilhwch obtain Olwen, the daughter\nof Yspaddaden Penkawr.\n\n\n\n\n                    PEREDUR[15] THE SON OF EVRAWC.\n\n\n[Footnote 15: This \"Peredur\" is the Welsh original of \"Sir Percival\"\nwho figures so finely in the search for the Sangreal along with Sir\nGalahad and the rest.]\n\nEarl Evrawc owned the earldom of the North. And he had seven sons. And\nEvrawc maintained himself not so much by his own possessions as by\nattending tournaments and wars and combats. And, as it often befalls\nthose who join in encounters and wars, he was slain, and six of his\nsons likewise. Now the name of his seventh son was Peredur, and he\nwas the youngest of them. And he was not of an age to go to wars and\nencounters, otherwise he might have been slain as well as his father\nand brothers. His mother was a scheming and thoughtful woman, and she\nwas very anxious concerning this her only son and his possessions. So\nshe took counsel with herself to leave the inhabited country, and to\nflee to the deserts and unfrequented wildernesses. And she permitted\nnone to bear her company thither but women and boys and spiritless men,\nwho were both unaccustomed and unequal to war and fighting. And none\ndared to bring either horses or arms where her son was, lest he should\nset his mind upon them. And the youth went daily to divert himself in\nthe forest by flinging sticks and staves.\n\nAnd one day they saw three knights coming along the horse-road on the\nborders of the forest. And the three knights were Gwalchmai the son\nof Gwyar, and Geneir Gwystyl, and Owain the son of Urien. And Owain\nkept on the track of the knight who had divided the apples in Arthur's\ncourt, whom they were in pursuit of.\n\n\"Mother,\" said Peredur, \"what are those yonder?\"\n\n\"They are angels, my son,\" said she.\n\n\"By my faith,\" said Peredur, \"I will go and become an angel with them.\"\nAnd Peredur went to the road, and met them.\n\n\"Tell me, good soul,\" said Owain, \"sawest thou a knight pass this way\neither to-day or yesterday?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" answered he, \"what a knight is.\"\n\n\"Such an one as I am,\" said Owain.\n\n\"If thou wilt tell me what I ask thee, I will tell thee that which thou\naskest me.\"\n\n\"Gladly will I do so,\" replied Owain.\n\n\"What is this?\" demanded Peredur, concerning the saddle.\n\n\"It is a saddle,\" said Owain.\n\nThen he asked about all the accoutrements which he saw upon the men,\nand the horses, and the arms, and what they were for, and how they were\nused.\n\nAnd Owain showed him all these things fully, and told him what use was\nmade of them.\n\n\"Go forward,\" said Peredur, \"for I saw such an one as thou inquirest\nfor, and I will follow thee.\"\n\nThen Peredur returned to his mother and her company, and he said to\nher, \"Mother, those were not angels, but honorable knights.\"\n\nThen his mother swooned away. And Peredur went to the place where they\nkept the horses that carried firewood, and that brought meat and drink\nfrom the inhabited country to the desert. And he took a bony, piebald\nhorse, which seemed to him the strongest of them; and he pressed a\npack into the form of a saddle, and with twisted twigs he imitated the\ntrappings which he had seen upon the horses. And when Peredur came\nagain to his mother, the countess had recovered from her swoon.\n\n\"My son,\" said she, \"desirest thou to ride forth?\"\n\n\"Yes, with thy leave,\" said he.\n\n\"Wait, then, that I may counsel thee before thou goest.\"\n\n\"Willingly,\" he answered. \"Speak quickly.\"\n\n\"Go forward, then,\" she said, \"to the court of Arthur, where there are\nthe best and the boldest and the most bountiful of men. And wherever\nthou seest a church, repeat there thy Paternoster unto it. And if thou\nsee meat and drink, and have need of them, and none have the kindness\nor the courtesy to give them to thee, take them thyself. If thou hear\nan outcry, proceed towards it, especially if it be the outcry of a\nwoman. If thou see a fair jewel, possess thyself of it, and give it to\nanother; for thus thou shalt obtain praise. If thou see a fair woman,\npay thy court to her, whether she will or no; for thus thou wilt render\nthyself a better and more esteemed man than thou wast before.\"\n\nAfter this discourse, Peredur mounted the horse, and, taking a handful\nof sharp-pointed forks in his hand, he rode forth. And he journeyed two\ndays and two nights in the woody wildernesses and in desert places,\nwithout food and without drink. And then he came to a vast wild wood;\nand far within the wood he saw a fair even glade, and in the glade he\nsaw a tent, and, the tent seeming to him to be a church, he repeated\nhis Paternoster to it. And he went towards it, and the door of the tent\nwas open. And a golden chair was near the door. And on the chair sat a\nlovely auburn-haired maiden, with a golden frontlet on her forehead,\nand sparkling stones in the frontlet, and with a large gold ring on\nher hand. And Peredur dismounted, and entered the tent. And the maiden\nwas glad at his coming, and bade him welcome. At the entrance of the\ntent he saw food, and two flasks full of wine, and two loaves of fine\nwheaten flour, and collops of the flesh of the wild boar. \"My mother\ntold me,\" said Peredur, \"wheresoever I saw meat and drink, to take it.\"\n\n\"Take the meat, and welcome, chieftain,\" said she.\n\nSo Peredur took half of the meat and of the liquor himself, and left\nthe rest to the maiden. And, when Peredur had finished eating, he\nbent upon his knee before the maiden. \"My mother,\" said he, \"told me,\nwheresoever I saw a fair jewel, to take it.\"\n\n\"Do so, my soul,\" said she.\n\nSo Peredur took the ring. And he mounted his horse, and proceeded on\nhis journey.\n\nAfter this, behold the knight came to whom the tent belonged; and he\nwas the lord of the glade. And he saw the track of the horse, and he\nsaid to the maiden, \"Tell me who has been here since I departed.\"\n\n\"A man,\" said she, \"of wonderful demeanor.\" And she described to him\nwhat Peredur's appearance and conduct had been.\n\n\"Tell me,\" said he, \"did he offer thee any wrong.\"\n\n\"No,\" answered the maiden, \"by my faith, he harmed me not.\"\n\n\"By my faith, I do not believe thee; and, until I can meet with him and\nrevenge the insult he has done me and wreak my vengeance upon him, thou\nshalt not remain two nights in the same house.\" And the knight arose,\nand set forth to seek Peredur.\n\nMeanwhile Peredur journeyed on towards Arthur's court. And before he\nreached it, another knight had been there, who gave a ring of thick\ngold at the door of the gate for holding his horse, and went into the\nhall where Arthur and his household, and Gwenhwyvar and her maidens,\nwere assembled. And the page of the chamber was serving Gwenhwyvar with\na golden goblet. Then the knight dashed the liquor that was therein\nupon her face, and upon her stomacher, and gave her a violent blow on\nthe face, and said, \"If any have the boldness to dispute this goblet\nwith me, and to revenge the insult to Gwenhwyvar, let him follow me to\nthe meadow, and there I will await him.\"\n\nSo the knight took his horse, and rode to the meadow. And all the\nhousehold hung down their heads, lest any of them should be requested\nto go and avenge the insult to Gwenhwyvar. For it seemed to them that\nno one would have ventured on so daring an outrage, unless he possessed\nsuch powers, through magic or charms, that none could be able to take\nvengeance upon him. Then, behold, Peredur entered the hall upon the\nbony piebald horse with the uncouth trappings upon it, and in this way\nhe traversed the whole length of the hall. In the centre of the hall\nstood Kai.\n\n\"Tell me, tall man,\" said Peredur, \"is that Arthur, yonder?\"\n\n\"What wouldest thou with Arthur?\" asked Kai.\n\n\"My mother told me to go to Arthur, and receive the honor of\nknighthood.\"\n\n\"By my faith,\" said he, \"thou art all too meanly equipped with horse\nand with arms.\"\n\nThereupon he was perceived by all the household, and they threw sticks\nat him. Then, behold, a dwarf came forward. He had already been a\nyear at Arthur's court, both he and a female dwarf. They had craved\nharborage of Arthur, and had obtained it; and during the whole year\nneither of them had spoken a single word to any one. When the dwarf\nbeheld Peredur, \"Haha!\" said he, \"the welcome of Heaven be unto thee,\ngoodly Peredur, son of Evrawc, the chief of warriors, and flower of\nknighthood.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Kai, \"thou art ill taught to remain a year mute at\nArthur's court, with choice of society, and now before the face of\nArthur and all his household, to call out, and declare such a man as\nthis the chief of warriors and the flower of knighthood.\" And he gave\nhim such a box on the ear that he fell senseless to the ground.\n\nThen exclaimed the female dwarf, \"Haha, goodly Peredur, son of Evrawc!\nThe welcome of Heaven be unto thee, flower of knights, and light of\nchivalry.\"\n\n\"Of a truth, maiden,\" said Kai, \"thou art ill bred to remain mute for a\nyear at the court of Arthur, and then to speak as thou dost of such a\nman as this.\" And Kai kicked her with his foot, so that she fell to the\nground senseless.\n\n\"Tall man,\" said Peredur, \"show me which is Arthur.\"\n\n\"Hold thy peace!\" said Kai, \"and go after the knight who went hence\nto the meadow, and take from him the goblet, and overthrow him, and\npossess thyself of his horse and arms, and then thou shalt receive the\norder of knighthood.\"\n\n\"I will do so, tall man,\" said Peredur. So he turned his horse's head\ntowards the meadow. And when he came there, the knight was riding up\nand down, proud of his strength and valor and noble mien.\n\n\"Tell me,\" said the knight, \"didst thou see any one coming after me\nfrom the court?\"\n\n\"The tall man that was there,\" said he, \"desired me to come and\noverthrow thee, and to take from thee the goblet and thy horse and thy\narmor for myself.\"\n\n\"Silence!\" said the knight. \"Go back to the court, and tell Arthur,\nfrom me, either to come himself, or to send some other to fight with\nme; and, unless he do so quickly, I will not wait for him.\"\n\n\"By my faith,\" said Peredur! \"choose thou whether it shall be willingly\nor unwillingly; but I will have the horse and the arms and the goblet.\"\n\nAnd upon this the knight ran at him furiously, and struck him a violent\nblow with the shaft of his spear between the neck and the shoulder.\n\n\"Haha, lad!\" said Peredur. \"My mother's servants were not used to play\nwith me in this wise: therefore, thus will I play with thee.\" And\nthereupon he struck him with a sharp-pointed fork, and it hit him in\nthe eye and came out at the back of his neck, so that he instantly fell\ndown lifeless.\n\n\"Verily,\" said Owain the son of Urien to Kai, \"thou wert ill advised\nwhen thou didst send that madman after the knight; for one of two\nthings must befall him. He must either be overthrown, or slain. If\nhe is overthrown by the knight, he will be counted by him to be an\nhonorable person of the court; and an eternal disgrace will it be to\nArthur and his warriors. And if he is slain, the disgrace will be the\nsame, and, moreover, his sin will be upon him: therefore will I go to\nsee what has befallen him.\" So Owain went to the meadow, and he found\nPeredur dragging the man about. \"What art thou doing thus?\" said Owain.\n\n\"This iron coat,\" said Peredur, \"will never come from off him; not by\nmy efforts, at any rate.\"\n\nAnd Owain unfastened his armor and his clothes. \"Here, my good soul,\"\nsaid he, \"is a horse and armor better than thine. Take them joyfully,\nand come with me to Arthur to receive the order of knighthood; for thou\ndost merit it.\"\n\n\"May I never show my face again, if I go!\" said Peredur. \"But take thou\nthe goblet to Gwenhwyvar, and tell Arthur that wherever I am I will be\nhis vassal and will do him what profit and service I am able. And say\nthat I will not come to his court until I have encountered the tall man\nthat is there, to revenge the injury he did to the dwarf and dwarfess.\"\n\nAnd Owain went back to the court, and related all these things to\nArthur and Gwenhwyvar, and to all the household.\n\nAnd Peredur rode forward. And as he proceeded, behold a knight met him.\n\n\"Whence comest thou?\" said the knight.\n\n\"I come from Arthur's court,\" said Peredur.\n\n\"Art thou one of his men?\" asked he.\n\n\"Yes, by my faith!\" he answered.\n\n\"A good service, truly, is that of Arthur.\"\n\n\"Wherefore sayest thou so?\" said Peredur.\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said he. \"I have always been Arthur's enemy, and\nall such of his men as I have ever encountered I have slain.\"\n\nAnd without further parlance they fought, and it was not long before\nPeredur brought him to the ground over his horse's crupper. Then the\nknight besought his mercy.\n\n\"Mercy thou shalt have,\" said Peredur, \"if thou wilt make oath to me\nthat thou wilt go to Arthur's court, and tell him that it was I that\noverthrew thee for the honor of his service, and say that I will never\ncome to the court until I have avenged the insult offered to the dwarf\nand dwarfess.\"\n\nThe knight pledged him his faith of this, and proceeded to the court of\nArthur, and said as he had promised, and conveyed the threat to Kai.\n\nAnd Peredur rode forward. And within that week he encountered sixteen\nknights, and overthrew them all shamefully. And they all went to\nArthur's court, taking with them the same message which the first\nknight had conveyed from Peredur, and the same threat which he had sent\nto Kai. And thereupon Kai was reproved by Arthur; and Kai was greatly\ngrieved thereat.\n\nAnd Peredur rode forward. And he came to a vast and desert wood on the\nconfines of which was a lake. And on the other side was a fair castle.\nAnd on the border of the lake he saw a venerable, hoary-headed man,\nsitting upon a velvet cushion, and having a garment of velvet upon him.\nAnd his attendants were fishing in the lake. When the hoary-headed\nman beheld Peredur approaching, he arose, and went towards the castle.\nAnd the old man was lame. Peredur rode to the palace; and the door\nwas open, and he entered the hall. And there was the hoary-headed man\nsitting on a cushion, and a large blazing fire burning before him. And\nthe household and the company arose to meet Peredur, and disarrayed\nhim. And the man asked the youth to sit on the cushion; and they sat\ndown and conversed together. When it was time, the tables were laid,\nand they went to meat. And when they had finished their meal, the man\ninquired of Peredur if he knew well how to fight with the sword.\n\n\"I know not,\" said Peredur; \"but were I to be taught, doubtless I\nshould.\"\n\n\"Whoever can play well with the cudgel and shield will also be able to\nfight with a sword.\"\n\nAnd the man had two sons: the one had yellow hair, and the other auburn.\n\n\"Arise, youths,\" said he, \"and play with the cudgel and the shield.\"\nAnd so did they. \"Tell me, my soul,\" said the man, \"which of the youths\nthinkest thou plays best.\"\n\n\"I think,\" said Peredur, \"that the yellow-haired youth could draw blood\nfrom the other, if he chose.\"\n\n\"Arise thou, my life, and take the cudgel and the shield from the\nhand of the youth with the auburn hair, and draw blood from the\nyellow-haired youth if thou canst.\"\n\nSo Peredur arose, and went to play with the yellow-haired youth; and\nhe lifted up his arm, and struck him such a mighty blow that his brow\nfell over his eye, and the blood flowed forth.\n\n\"Ah, my life,\" said the man, \"come now, and sit down; for thou wilt\nbecome the best fighter with the sword of any in this island. And I am\nthy uncle, thy mother's brother. And with me shalt thou remain a space\nin order to learn the manners and customs of different countries, and\ncourtesy, and gentleness, and noble bearing. Leave, then, the habits\nand the discourse of thy mother, and I will be thy teacher; and I will\nraise thee to the rank of knight from this time forward. And thus do\nthou. If thou seest aught to cause thee wonder, ask not the meaning of\nit: if no one has the courtesy to inform thee, the reproach will not\nfall upon thee, but upon me that am thy teacher.\"\n\nAnd they had abundance of honor and service. And when it was time they\nwent to sleep. At the break of day Peredur arose and took his horse,\nand with his uncle's permission he rode forth. And he came to a vast\ndesert wood, and at the further end of the wood was a meadow, and on\nthe other side of the meadow he saw a large castle. And thitherward\nPeredur bent his way, and he found the gate open, and he proceeded\nto the hall. And he beheld a stately hoary-headed man sitting on one\nside of the hall, and many pages around him, who arose to receive and\nto honor Peredur. And they placed him by the side of the owner of the\npalace. Then they discoursed together; and when it was time to eat,\nthey caused Peredur to sit beside the nobleman during the repast. And\nwhen they had eaten and drunk as much as they desired, the nobleman\nasked Peredur whether he could fight with a sword.\n\n\"Were I to receive instruction,\" said Peredur, \"I think I could.\"\n\nNow, there was on the floor of the hall a huge staple, as large as a\nwarrior could grasp.\n\n\"Take yonder sword,\" said the man to Peredur, \"and strike the iron\nstaple.\"\n\n[Then] Peredur arose, and struck the staple so that he cut it in two;\nand the sword broke into two parts also.\n\n\"Place the two parts together, and re-unite them.\"\n\nAnd Peredur placed them together, and they became entire as they were\nbefore. And a second time he struck upon the staple so that both it and\nthe sword broke in two, and as before they re-united. And the third\ntime he gave a like blow, and placed the broken parts together, and\nneither the staple nor the sword would unite as before.\n\n\"Youth,\" said the nobleman, \"come now, and sit down, and my blessing be\nupon thee. Thou fightest best with the sword of any man in the kingdom.\nThou hast arrived at two-thirds of thy strength, and the other third\nthou hast not yet obtained; and when thou attainest to thy full power\nnone will be able to contend with thee. I am thy uncle, thy mother's\nbrother, and I am brother to the man in whose house thou wast last\nnight.\"\n\nThen Peredur and his uncle discoursed together, and he beheld two\nyouths enter the hall and proceed up to the chamber, bearing a spear\nof mighty size, with three streams of blood flowing from the point to\nthe ground. And when all the company saw this they began wailing and\nlamenting. But for all that the man did not break off his discourse\nwith Peredur. And as he did not tell Peredur the meaning of what he\nsaw, he forbore to ask him concerning it. And when the clamor had a\nlittle subsided, behold, two maidens entered, with a large salver\nbetween them, in which was a man's head, surrounded by a profusion of\nblood. And thereupon the company of the court made so great an outcry\nthat it was irksome to be in the same hall with them. But at length\nthey were silent. And, when time was that they should sleep, Peredur\nwas brought into a fair chamber.\n\nAnd the next day, with his uncle's permission, he rode forth. And he\ncame to a wood, and far within the wood he heard a loud cry, and he saw\na beautiful woman with auburn hair, and a horse with a saddle upon it\nstanding near her, and a corpse by her side. And as she strove to place\nthe corpse upon the horse it fell to the ground, and thereupon she made\na great lamentation.\n\n\"Tell me, sister,\" said Peredur, \"wherefore art thou bewailing?\"\n\n\"Oh, accursed Peredur! little pity has my ill fortune ever met with\nfrom thee.\"\n\n\"Wherefore,\" said Peredur, \"am I accursed?\"\n\n\"Because thou wast the cause of thy mother's death; for, when thou\ndidst ride forth against her will, anguish seized upon her heart so\nthat she died; and therefore art thou accursed. And the dwarf and the\ndwarfess that thou sawest at Arthur's court were the dwarfs of thy\nfather and mother. And I am thy foster-sister, and this was my wedded\nhusband, and he was slain by the knight that is in the glade in the\nwood. And do not thou go near him, lest thou shouldest be slain by him\nlikewise.\"\n\n\"My sister, thou dost reproach me wrongfully. Through my having so\nlong remained amongst you, I shall scarcely vanquish him; and, had\nI continued longer, it would indeed be difficult for me to succeed.\nCease, therefore, thy lamenting, for it is of no avail. And I will bury\nthe body, and then I will go in quest of the knight, and see if I can\ndo vengeance upon him.\"\n\nAnd when he had buried the body, they went to the place where the\nknight was, and found him riding proudly along the glade; and he\ninquired of Peredur whence he came.\n\n\"I come from Arthur's court.\"\n\n\"And art thou one of Arthur's men?\"\n\n\"Yes, by my faith!\"\n\n\"A profitable alliance truly, is that of Arthur.\"\n\nAnd without further parlance they encountered one another; and\nimmediately Peredur overthrew the knight, and he besought mercy of\nPeredur.\n\n\"Mercy shalt thou have,\" said he, \"upon these terms: that thou take\nthis woman in marriage, and do her all the honor and reverence in thy\npower, seeing thou hast, without cause, slain her wedded husband;\nand that thou go to Arthur's court, and show him that it was I that\noverthrew thee, to do him honor and service; and that thou tell him\nthat I will never come to his court again until I have met with the\ntall man that is there, to take vengeance upon him for his insult to\nthe dwarf and dwarfess.\"\n\nAnd he took the knight's assurance that he would perform all this.\nThen the knight provided the lady with a horse and garments that were\nsuitable for her, and took her with him to Arthur's court. And he told\nArthur all that had occurred, and gave the defiance to Kai. And Arthur\nand all his household reproved Kai for having driven such a youth as\nPeredur from his court.\n\nSaid Owain the son of Urien, \"This youth will never come into the court\nuntil Kai has gone forth from it.\"\n\n\"By my faith!\" said Arthur, \"I will search all the deserts in the\nisland of Britain until I find Peredur, and then let him and his\nadversary do their utmost to each other.\"\n\nThen Peredur rode forward. And he came to a desert wood, where he saw\nnot the track either of men or animals, and where there was nothing\nbut bushes and weeds. And at the upper end of the wood he saw a vast\ncastle, wherein were many strong towers; and when he came near the\ngate he found the weeds taller than he had seen them elsewhere. And he\nstruck the gate with the shaft of his lance, and thereupon behold a\nlean auburn-haired youth came to an opening in the battlements.\n\n\"Choose thou, chieftain,\" said he, \"whether shall I open the gate unto\nthee, or shall I announce unto those that are chief, that thou art at\nthe gateway?\"\n\n\"Say that I am here,\" said Peredur, \"and, if it is desired that I\nshould enter, I will go in.\"\n\nAnd the youth came back, and opened the gate for Peredur. And when he\nwent into the hall he beheld eighteen youths, lean and red-headed, of\nthe same height, and of the same aspect, and of the same dress, and of\nthe same age, as the one who had opened the gate for him. And they were\nwell skilled in courtesy and in service. And they disarrayed him. Then\nthey sat down to discourse. Thereupon, behold five maidens came from\nthe chamber into the hall. And Peredur was certain that he had never\nseen another of so fair an aspect as the chief of the maidens. And she\nhad an old garment of satin upon her, which had once been handsome,\nbut was then so tattered that her skin could be seen through it. And\nwhiter was her skin than the bloom of crystal; and her hair and her two\neyebrows were blacker than jet; and on her cheeks were two red spots,\nredder than whatever is reddest. And the maiden welcomed Peredur, and\nput her arms about his neck, and made him sit down beside her. Not long\nafter this, he saw two nuns enter; and a flask full of wine was borne\nby one, and six loaves of white bread by the other. \"Lady,\" said they,\n\"Heaven is witness that there is not so much of food and liquor as\nthis left in yonder convent this night.\"\n\n[Illustration: Peredur and the Maiden.]\n\nThen they went to meat, and Peredur observed that the maiden wished\nto give more of the food and of the liquor to him than to any of the\nothers.\n\n\"My sister,\" said Peredur, \"I will share out the food and the liquor.\"\n\n\"Not so, my soul,\" said she.\n\n\"By my faith but I will!\" So Peredur took the bread and he gave an\nequal portion of it to each. [Then, having eaten, Peredur retired and\nslept. And in the night] with the noise of the door opening, Peredur\nawoke; and the maiden was [there] weeping and lamenting.\n\n\"Tell me, my sister,\" said Peredur, \"wherefore dost thou weep?\"\n\n\"I will tell thee, lord,\" said she. \"My father possessed these\ndominions as their chief, and this palace was his; and with it he held\nthe best earldom in the kingdom. Then the son of another earl sought\nme of my father, and I was not willing to be given unto him; and my\nfather would not give me against my will, either to him or any earl\nin the world. And my father had no child except myself. And after my\nfather's death these dominions came into my own hands, and then was I\nless willing to accept him than before. So he made war upon me, and\nconquered all my possessions except this one house. And through the\nvalor of the men whom thou hast seen, who are my foster-brothers, and\nthe strength of the house, it can never be taken while food and\ndrink remain. And now our provisions are exhausted; but, as thou hast\nseen, we have been fed by the nuns, to whom the country is free. And at\nlength they also are without supply of food or liquor. And at no later\ndate than to-morrow the earl will come against this place with all his\nforces; and, if I fall into his power, my fate will be no better than\nto be given over to the grooms of his horses. Therefore, lord, I am\ncome to offer to place myself in thy hands, that thou mayest succor me,\neither by taking me hence, or by defending me here, whichever may seem\nbest unto thee.\"\n\n\"Go, my sister,\" said he, \"and sleep; nor will I depart from thee until\nI do that which thou requirest, or prove whether I can assist thee or\nnot.\"\n\nThe maiden went again to rest; and the next morning she came to\nPeredur, and saluted him. \"Heaven prosper thee, my soul; and what\ntidings dost thou bring?\"\n\n\"None other than that the earl and all his forces have alighted at the\ngate, and I never beheld any place so covered with tents, and thronged\nwith knights challenging others to the combat.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Peredur, \"let my horse be made ready.\"\n\nSo his horse was accoutred, and he arose and sallied forth to the\nmeadow. And there was a knight riding proudly along the meadow, having\nraised the signal for battle. And they encountered; and Peredur threw\nthe knight over his horse's crupper to the ground. And at the close\nof the day one of the chief knights came to fight with him, and he\noverthrew him also, so that he besought his mercy.\n\n\"Who art thou?\" said Peredur.\n\n\"Verily,\" said he, \"I am master of the household to the earl.\"\n\n\"And how much of the countess's possessions is there in thy power?\"\n\n\"The third part verily,\" answered he.\n\n\"Then,\" said Peredur, \"restore to her the third of her possessions in\nfull, and all the profit thou hast made by them, and bring meat and\ndrink for a hundred men, with their horses and arms, to her court this\nnight. And thou shalt remain her captive unless she wish to take thy\nlife.\"\n\nAnd this he did forthwith. And that night the maiden was right joyful,\nand they fared plenteously.\n\nAnd the next day Peredur rode forth to the meadow; and that day he\nvanquished a multitude of the host. And at the close of the day there\ncame a proud and stately knight; and Peredur overthrew him, and he\nbesought his mercy.\n\n\"Who art thou?\" said Peredur.\n\n\"I am steward of the palace,\" said he.\n\n\"And how much of the maiden's possessions are under thy control?\"\n\n\"One-third part,\" answered he.\n\n\"Verily,\" said Peredur, \"thou shalt fully restore to the maiden her\npossessions; and, moreover, thou shalt give her meat and drink for two\nhundred men, and their horses and their arms. And, for thyself, thou\nshalt be her captive.\"\n\nAnd immediately it was so done.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd the third day Peredur rode forth to the meadow; and he vanquished\nmore that day than on either of the preceding. And at the close of\nthe day an earl came to encounter him, and he overthrew him, and he\nbesought his mercy.\n\n\"Who art thou?\" said Peredur.\n\n\"I am the earl,\" said he. \"I will not conceal it from thee.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Peredur, \"thou shalt restore the whole of the maiden's\nearldom, and shalt give her thine own earldom in addition thereto, and\nmeat and drink for three hundred men, and their horses and arms, and\nthou thyself shalt remain in her power.\"\n\nAnd thus it was fulfilled. And Peredur tarried three weeks in the\ncountry, causing tribute and obedience to be paid to the maiden, and\nthe government to be placed in her hands.\n\n\"With thy leave,\" said Peredur, \"I will go hence.\"\n\n\"Verily, my brother, desirest thou this?\"\n\n\"Yes, by my faith. And had it not been for love of thee, I should not\nhave been here thus long.\"\n\n\"My soul,\" said she, \"who art thou?\"\n\n\"I am Peredur the son of Evrawc, from the North; and, if ever thou art\nin trouble or in danger, acquaint me therewith, and if I can I will\nprotect thee.\"\n\nSo Peredur rode forth. And far thence there met him a lady, mounted on\na horse that was lean and covered with sweat. And she saluted the youth.\n\n\"Whence comest thou, my sister?\"\n\nThen she told him the cause of her journey. Now she was the wife of the\nlord of the glade.\n\n\"Behold,\" said he, \"I am the knight through whom thou art in trouble,\nand he shall repent it who has treated thee thus.\"\n\nThereupon, behold, a knight rode up, and he inquired of Peredur if he\nhad seen a knight such as he was seeking.\n\n\"Hold thy peace,\" said Peredur. \"I am he whom thou seekest. And by my\nfaith thou deservest ill of thy household for thy treatment of the\nmaiden, for she is innocent concerning me.\"\n\nSo they encountered; and they were not long in combat ere Peredur\noverthrew the knight, and he besought his mercy.\n\n\"Mercy thou shalt have,\" said Peredur, \"so thou wilt return by the way\nthou camest, and declare that thou holdest the maiden innocent, and so\nthat thou wilt acknowledge unto her the reverse thou hast sustained at\nmy hands.\"\n\nAnd the knight plighted him his faith thereto.\n\nThen Peredur rode forward. And above him he beheld a castle, and\nthitherward he went. And he struck upon the gate with his lance, and\nthen, behold, a comely auburn-haired youth opened the gate, and he had\nthe stature of a warrior, and the years of a boy. And when Peredur\ncame into the hall, there was a tall and stately lady sitting in a\nchair, and many handmaidens around her; and the lady rejoiced at his\ncoming. And when it was time they went to meat. And after their repast\nwas finished, \"It were well for thee, chieftain,\" said she, \"to go\nelsewhere to sleep.\"\n\n\"Wherefore can I not sleep here?\" said Peredur.\n\n\"Nine sorceresses are here, my soul, of the sorceresses of Gloucester,\nand their father and their mother are with them; and unless we can make\nour escape before daybreak we shall be slain; and already they have\nconquered and laid waste all the country except this one dwelling.\"\n\n\"Behold,\" said Peredur, \"I will remain here to-night, and if you are\nin trouble I will do you what service I can; but harm shall you not\nreceive from me.\"\n\nSo they went to rest. And with the break of day Peredur heard a\ndreadful outcry. And he hastily arose, and went forth in his vest and\nhis doublet, with his sword about his neck; and he saw a sorceress\novertake one of the watch, who cried out violently. Peredur attacked\nthe sorceress, and struck her upon the head with his sword so that he\nflattened her helmet and her headpiece like a dish upon her head.\n\n\"Thy mercy, goodly Peredur, son of Evrawc, and the mercy of Heaven!\"\n\n\"How knowest thou, hag, that I am Peredur?\"\n\n\"By destiny, and the foreknowledge that I should suffer harm from\nthee. And thou shalt take a horse and armor of me, and with me thou\nshalt go to learn chivalry and the use of thy arms.\"\n\nSaid Peredur, \"Thou shalt have mercy, if thou pledge thy faith thou\nwilt never more injure the dominions of the countess.\"\n\nAnd Peredur took surety of this, and with permission of the countess\nhe set forth with the sorceress to the palace of the sorceresses. And\nthere he remained for three weeks, and then he made choice of a horse\nand arms, and went his way.\n\nAnd in the evening he entered a valley, and at the head of the valley\nhe came to a hermit's cell, and the hermit welcomed him gladly; and\nthere he spent the night. And in the morning he arose; and when he went\nforth, behold, a shower of snow had fallen the night before, and a hawk\nhad killed a wild fowl in front of the cell. And the noise of the horse\nscared the hawk away, and a raven alighted upon the bird. And Peredur\nstood, and compared the blackness of the raven and the whiteness of the\nsnow and the redness of the blood, to the hair of the lady that best he\nloved which was blacker than jet, and to her skin which was whiter than\nthe snow, and to the two red spots upon her cheeks which were redder\nthan the blood upon the snow appeared to be.\n\nNow Arthur and his household were in search of Peredur. \"Know ye,\" said\nArthur, \"who is the knight with the long spear, that stands by the\nbrook up yonder?\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said one of them, \"I will go and learn who he is.\" So the youth\ncame to the place where Peredur was, and asked him what he did thus,\nand who he was. And from the intensity with which he thought upon the\nlady whom best he loved, he gave him no answer. Then the youth thrust\nat Peredur with his lance; and Peredur turned upon him, and struck him\nover his horse's crupper to the ground. And after this, four and twenty\nyouths came to him, and he did not answer one more than another, but\ngave the same reception to all, bringing them with one single thrust to\nthe ground. And then came Kai, and spoke to Peredur rudely and angrily.\nAnd Peredur took him with his lance under the jaw, and cast him from\nhim with a thrust, so that he broke his arm and his shoulder-blade,\nand he rode over him one and twenty times. And while he lay thus,\nstunned with the violence of the pain that he had suffered, his horse\nreturned back at a wild and prancing pace. And when the household saw\nthe horse come back without his rider, they rode forth in haste to the\nplace where the encounter had been. And when they first came there they\nthought that Kai was slain; but they found that if he had a skilful\nphysician he yet might live. And Peredur moved not from his meditation,\non seeing the concourse that was around Kai. And Kai was brought to\nArthur's tent, and Arthur caused skilful physicians to come to him. And\nArthur was grieved that Kai had met with this reverse, for he loved him\ngreatly.\n\n\"Then,\" said Gwalchmai, \"it is not fitting that any should disturb\nan honorable knight from his thought unadvisedly; for either he is\npondering some damage that he has sustained, or he is thinking of\nthe lady whom best he loves. And through such ill-advised proceeding\nperchance this misadventure has befallen him who last met with him. And\nif it seem well to thee, lord, I will go and see if this knight has\nchanged from his thought; and, if he has, I will ask him courteously to\ncome and visit thee.\"\n\nThen Kai was wrath, and he spoke angry and spiteful words. \"Gwalchmai,\"\nsaid he, \"I know that thou wilt bring him because he is fatigued.\nLittle praise and honor, nevertheless, wilt thou have from vanquishing\na weary knight who is tired with fighting. Yet thus hast thou gained\nthe advantage over many. And, while thy speech and thy soft words last,\na coat of thin linen were armor sufficient for thee, and thou wilt not\nneed to break either lance or sword in fighting with the knight in the\nstate he is in.\"\n\nThen said Gwalchmai to Kai, \"Thou mightest use more pleasant words,\nwert thou so minded; and it behooves thee not upon me to wreak thy\nwrath and thy displeasure. Methinks I shall bring the knight hither\nwith me without breaking either my arm or my shoulder.\"\n\nThen said Arthur to Gwalchmai, \"Thou speakest like a wise and prudent\nman. Go, and take enough of armor about thee, and choose thy horse.\"\n\nAnd Gwalchmai accoutred himself, and rode forward hastily to the place\nwhere Peredur was.\n\nAnd Peredur was resting on the shaft of his spear, pondering the same\nthought; and Gwalchmai came to him without any signs of hostility, and\nsaid to him, \"If I thought that it would be as agreeable to thee as it\nwould be to me, I would converse with thee. I have also a message from\nArthur unto thee, to pray thee to come and visit him. And two men have\nbeen before on this errand.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said Peredur, \"and uncourteously they came. They\nattacked me, and I was annoyed thereat; for it was not pleasing to\nme to be drawn from the thought that I was in, for I was thinking of\nthe lady whom best I love, and thus was she brought to my mind: I\nwas looking upon the snow, and upon the raven, and upon the drops of\nthe blood of the bird that the hawk had killed upon the snow; and I\nbethought me that her whiteness was like that of the snow, and that\nthe blackness of her hair and her eyebrows was like that of the raven,\nand that the two red spots upon her cheeks were like the two drops of\nblood.\"\n\nSaid Gwalchmai, \"This was not an ungentle thought, and I should marvel\nif it were pleasant to thee to be drawn from it.\"\n\n\"Tell me,\" said Peredur, \"is Kai in Arthur's court?\"\n\n\"He is,\" said he. \"And, behold, he is the knight that fought with thee\nlast, and it would have been better for him had he not come; for his\narm and his shoulder-blade were broken with the fall which he had from\nthy spear.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Peredur, \"I am not sorry to have thus begun to avenge\nthe insult to the dwarf and dwarfess.\"\n\nThen Gwalchmai marvelled to hear him speak of the dwarf and the\ndwarfess. And he approached him, and threw his arms around his neck,\nand asked him what was his name.\n\n\"Peredur the son of Evrawc am I called,\" said he. \"And thou--who art\nthou?\"\n\n\"I am called Gwalchmai,\" he replied.\n\n\"I am right glad to meet with thee,\" said Peredur; \"for in every\ncountry where I have been I have heard of thy fame for prowess and\nuprightness, and I solicit thy fellowship.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt have it, by my faith; and grant me thine,\" said he.\n\n\"Gladly will I do so,\" answered Peredur.\n\nSo they rode forth together joyfully towards the place where Arthur\nwas; and, when Kai saw them coming, he said, \"I knew that Gwalchmai\nneeded not to fight the knight. And it is no wonder that he should gain\nfame: more can he do by his fair words than I by the strength of my\narm.\"\n\nAnd Peredur went with Gwalchmai to his tent, and they took off their\narmor. And Peredur put on garments like those that Gwalchmai wore, and\nthey went together unto Arthur, and saluted him.\n\n\"Behold, lord,\" said Gwalchmai, \"him whom thou hast sought so long.\"\n\n\"Welcome unto thee, chieftain!\" said Arthur. \"With me thou shalt\nremain; and, had I known thy valor had been such, thou shouldst not\nhave left me as thou didst. Nevertheless, this was predicted of thee by\nthe dwarf and the dwarfess, whom Kai ill treated, and whom thou hast\navenged.\"\n\nAnd hereupon, behold, there came the queen and her handmaidens; and\nPeredur saluted them. And they were rejoiced to see him, and bade him\nwelcome. And Arthur did him great honor and respect. And they returned\ntowards Caerlleon.\n\nAnd the first night Peredur came to Caerlleon, to Arthur's court,\nand, as he walked in the city after his repast, behold, there met him\nAngharad Law Eurawc.\n\n\"By my faith, sister,\" said Peredur, \"thou art a beauteous and lovely\nmaiden; and were it pleasing to thee I could love thee above all women.\"\n\n\"I pledge my faith,\" said she, \"that I do not love thee; nor will I\never do so.\"\n\n\"I also pledge my faith,\" said Peredur, \"that I will never speak a word\nto any Christian again until thou come to love me above all men.\"\n\nThe next day Peredur went forth by the high road, along a\nmountain-ridge, and he saw a valley of a circular form, the confines\nof which were rocky and wooded. And the flat part of the valley was\nin meadows, and there were fields betwixt the meadows and the wood.\nAnd in the bosom of the wood he saw large black houses of uncouth\nworkmanship. And he dismounted, and led his horse towards the wood.\nAnd a little way within the wood he saw a rocky ledge, along which the\nroad lay. And upon the ledge was a lion bound by a chain, and sleeping.\nAnd beneath the lion he saw a deep pit of immense size, full of the\nbones of men and animals. And Peredur drew his sword, and struck the\nlion, so that he fell into the mouth of the pit, and hung there by the\nchain; and with a second blow he struck the chain, and broke it; and\nthe lion fell into the pit. And Peredur led his horse over the rocky\nledge until he came into the valley. And in the centre of the valley\nhe saw a fair castle, and he went towards it. And in the meadow by the\ncastle he beheld a huge gray man sitting, who was larger than any man\nhe had ever before seen. And two young pages were shooting the hilts of\ntheir daggers, of the bone of the seahorse. And one of the pages had\nred hair, and the other auburn. And they went before him to the place\nwhere the gray man was, and Peredur saluted him. And the gray man said,\n\"Disgrace to the beard of my porter!\" Then Peredur understood that\nthe porter was the lion. And the gray man and the pages went together\ninto the castle, and Peredur accompanied them; and he found it a fair\nand noble place. And they proceeded to the hall, and the tables were\nalready laid, and upon them was abundance of food and liquor. And\nthereupon he saw an aged woman and a young woman come from the chamber;\nand they were the most stately women he had ever seen. Then they\nwashed and went to meat. And the gray man sat in the upper seat at the\nhead of the table, and the aged woman next to him. And Peredur and the\nmaiden were placed together, and the two young pages served them. And\nthe maiden gazed sorrowfully upon Peredur, and Peredur asked the maiden\nwherefore she was sad.\n\n\"For thee, my soul; for, from when I first beheld thee, I have loved\nthee above all men. And it pains me to know that so gentle a youth as\nthou should have such a doom as awaits thee to-morrow. Sawest thou the\nnumerous black houses in the bosom of the wood? All these belong to\nthe vassals of the gray man yonder, who is my father. And they are all\ngiants. And to-morrow they will rise up against thee, and will slay\nthee. And the Round Valley is this valley called.\"\n\n\"Listen, fair maiden: wilt thou contrive that my horse and arms be in\nthe same lodging with me to-night?\"\n\n\"Gladly will I cause it so to be, by Heaven, if I can.\"\n\nAnd when it was time for them to sleep rather than to carouse they\nwent to rest. And the maiden caused Peredur's horse and arms to be in\nthe same lodging with him. And the next morning Peredur heard a great\ntumult of men and horses around the castle. And Peredur arose, and\narmed himself and his horse, and went to the meadow. Then the aged\nwoman and the maiden came to the gray man. \"Lord,\" said they, \"take the\nword of the youth that he will never disclose what he has seen in this\nplace, and we will be his sureties that he keep it.\"\n\n\"I will not do so, by my faith,\" said the gray man.\n\nSo Peredur fought with the host; and towards evening he had slain the\none-third of them without receiving any hurt himself. Then said the\naged woman, \"Behold, many of thy host have been slain by the youth: do\nthou, therefore, grant him mercy.\"\n\n\"I will not grant it, by my faith,\" said he.\n\nAnd the aged woman and the fair maiden were upon the battlements of the\ncastle, looking forth. And at that juncture Peredur encountered the\nyellow-haired youth, and slew him.\n\n\"Lord,\" said the maiden, \"grant the young man mercy.\"\n\n\"That will I not do, by Heaven,\" he replied.\n\nAnd thereupon Peredur attacked the auburn-haired youth, and slew him\nlikewise.\n\n\"It were better thou hadst accorded mercy to the youth before he had\nslain thy two sons; for now scarcely wilt thou thyself escape from him.\"\n\n\"Go, maiden, and beseech the youth to grant mercy unto us, for we yield\nourselves into his hands.\"\n\nSo the maiden came to the place where Peredur was, and besought mercy\nfor her father, and for all such of his vassals as had escaped alive.\n\n\"Thou shalt have it on condition that thy father and all that are under\nhim go and render homage to Arthur, and tell him that it was his vassal\nPeredur that did him this service.\"\n\n\"This will we do willingly, by Heaven.\"\n\n\"And you shall also receive baptism. And I will send to Arthur, and\nbeseech him to bestow this valley upon thee and upon thy heirs after\nthee forever.\"\n\nThen they went in; and the gray man and the tall woman saluted Peredur.\nAnd the gray man said unto him, \"Since I have possessed this valley,\nI have not seen any Christian depart with his life, save thyself. And\nwe will go to do homage to Arthur, and to embrace the faith, and be\nbaptized.\"\n\nThen said Peredur, \"To Heaven I render thanks that I have not broken my\nvow to the lady that best I love, which was, that I would not speak one\nword unto any Christian.\"\n\nThat night they tarried there. And the next day, in the morning, the\ngray man, with his company, set forth to Arthur's court. And they did\nhomage unto Arthur, and he caused them to be baptized. And the gray man\ntold Arthur that it was Peredur that had vanquished them. And Arthur\ngave the valley to the gray man and his company, to hold it of him as\nPeredur had besought. And with Arthur's permission the gray man went\nback to the Round Valley.\n\nPeredur rode forward next day, and he traversed a vast tract of desert\nin which no dwellings were. And at length he came to a habitation mean\nand small. And there he heard that there was a serpent that lay upon\na gold ring and suffered none to inhabit the country for seven miles\naround. And Peredur came to the place where he heard the serpent was.\nAnd angrily, furiously, and desperately fought he with the serpent;\nand at last he killed it, and took away the ring. And thus he was for\na long time without speaking a word to any Christian. And therefrom he\nlost his color and his aspect, through extreme longing after the court\nof Arthur, and the society of the lady whom best he loved, and of his\ncompanions. Then he proceeded forward to Arthur's court; and on the\nroad there met him Arthur's household going on a particular errand,\nwith Kai at their head. And Peredur knew them all; but none of the\nhousehold recognized him.\n\n\"Whence comest thou, chieftain?\" said Kai. And this he asked him twice\nand three times, and he answered him not. And Kai thrust him through\nthe thigh with his lance. And lest he should be compelled to speak, and\nto break his vow, he went on without stopping.\n\n\"Then,\" said Gwalchmai, \"I declare to Heaven, Kai, that thou hast acted\nill in committing such an outrage on a youth like this, who cannot\nspeak.\"\n\nAnd Gwalchmai returned back to Arthur's court. \"Lady,\" said he to\nGwenhwyvar, \"seest thou how wicked an outrage Kai has committed upon\nthis youth who cannot speak. For Heaven's sake and for mine, cause him\nto have medical care before I come back, and I will repay thee the\ncharge.\"\n\nAnd before the men returned from their errand, a knight came to the\nmeadow beside Arthur's palace, to dare some one to the encounter. And\nhis challenge was accepted; and Peredur fought with him, and overthrew\nhim. And for a week he overthrew one knight every day.\n\nAnd one day Arthur and his household were going to church, and they\nbeheld a knight who had raised the signal for combat. \"Verily,\" said\nArthur, \"by the valor of men I will not go hence until I have my\nhorse and my arms to overthrow yonder boor.\" Then went the attendants\nto fetch Arthur's horse and arms. And Peredur met the attendants\nas they were going back, and he took the horse and arms from them,\nand proceeded to the meadow, and all those who saw him arise and go\nto do battle with the knight went upon the tops of the houses, and\nthe mounds, and the high places, to behold the combat. And Peredur\nbeckoned with his hand to the knight to commence the fight. And the\nknight thrust at him; but he was not thereby moved from where he stood.\nAnd Peredur spurred his horse, and ran at him wrathfully, furiously,\nfiercely, desperately, and with mighty rage, and he gave him a thrust,\ndeadly-wounding, severe, furious, adroit, and strong under his jaw, and\nraised him out of his saddle, and cast him a long way from him. And\nPeredur went back, and left the horse and the arms with the attendant\nas before, and he went on foot to the palace.\n\nThen Peredur went by the name of the Dumb Youth. And, behold, Angharad\nLaw Eurawc met him. \"I declare to Heaven, chieftain,\" said she, \"woful\nis it that thou canst not speak; for, couldst thou speak, I would love\nthee best of all men. And, by my faith, although thou canst not, I do\nlove thee above all.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee, my sister,\" said Peredur. \"By my faith I also do\nlove thee.\" Thereupon it was known that he was Peredur. And then he\nheld fellowship with Gwalchmai, and Owain the son of Urien, and all the\nhousehold; and he remained in Arthur's court.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nArthur was in Caerlleon-upon-Usk; and he went to hunt, and Peredur went\nwith him. And Peredur let loose his dog upon a hart, and the dog killed\nthe hart in a desert place. And a short space from him he saw signs of\na dwelling, and towards the dwelling he went, and he beheld a hall,\nand at the door of the hall he found bald swarthy youths playing at\nchess. And when he entered he beheld three maidens sitting on a bench,\nand they were all clothed alike, as became persons of high rank. And\nhe came and sat by them upon the bench; and one of the maidens looked\nsteadfastly upon Peredur, and wept. And Peredur asked her wherefore she\nwas weeping.\n\n\"Through grief that I should see so fair a youth as thou art slain.\"\n\n\"Who will slay me?\" inquired Peredur.\n\n\"If thou art so daring as to remain here to-night, I will tell thee.\"\n\n\"How great soever my danger may be from remaining here, I will listen\nunto thee.\"\n\n\"This palace is owned by him who is my father,\" said the maiden; \"and\nhe slays every one who comes hither without his leave.\"\n\n\"What sort of a man is thy father, that he is able to slay every one\nthus?\"\n\n\"A man who does violence and wrong unto his neighbors, and who renders\njustice unto none.\"\n\nAnd hereupon he saw the youths arise, and clear the chessmen from the\nboard. And he heard a great tumult. And after the tumult there came in\na huge black one-eyed man, and the maidens arose to meet him. And they\ndisarrayed him, and he went and sat down. And after he had rested and\npondered a while, he looked at Peredur, and asked who the knight was.\n\n\"Lord,\" said one of the maidens, \"he is the fairest and gentlest youth\nthat ever thou didst see. And for the sake of Heaven and of thine own\ndignity, have patience with him.\"\n\n\"For thy sake I will have patience, and I will grant him his life this\nnight.\"\n\nThen Peredur came towards them to the fire, and partook of food and\nliquor, and entered into discourse with the ladies. And, being elated\nwith the liquor, he said to the black man, \"It is a marvel to me, so\nmighty as thou sayest thou art, who could have put out thine eye.\"\n\n\"It is one of my habits,\" said the black man, \"that whosoever puts to\nme the question which thou hast asked shall not escape with his life,\neither as a free gift or for a price.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said the maiden, \"whatsoever he may say to thee in jest, and\nthrough the excitement of liquor, make good that which thou saidst,\nand didst promise me just now.\"\n\n\"I will do so gladly, for thy sake,\" said he. \"Willingly will I grant\nhim his life this night.\"\n\nAnd that night thus they remained.\n\nAnd the next day the black man got up, and put on his armor, and said\nto Peredur, \"Arise, man, and suffer death.\"\n\nAnd Peredur said unto him, \"Do one of two things, black man: if thou\nwilt fight with me, either throw off thy own armor, or give arms to me,\nthat I may encounter thee.\"\n\n\"Ha, man!\" said he. \"Couldst thou fight if thou hadst arms? Take, then,\nwhat arms thou dost choose.\"\n\nAnd thereupon the maiden came to Peredur with such arms as pleased him;\nand he fought with the black man, and forced him to crave his mercy.\n\n\"Black man, thou shalt have mercy, provided thou tell me who thou art,\nand who put out thine eye.\"\n\n\"Lord, I will tell thee. I lost it in fighting with the black serpent\nof the carn. There is a mound which is called the Mound of Mourning;\nand on the mound there is a carn, and in the carn there is a serpent,\nand on the tail of the serpent there is a stone, and the virtues of the\nstone are such, that whosoever should hold it in one hand, in the other\nhe will have as much gold as he may desire. And in fighting with this\nserpent was it that I lost my eye. And the Black Oppressor am I called.\nAnd for this reason I am called the Black Oppressor, that there is not\na single man around me whom I have not oppressed; and justice have I\ndone unto none.\"\n\n\"Tell me,\" said Peredur, \"how far is it hence?\"\n\n\"The same day that thou settest forth, thou wilt come to the palace of\nthe Sons of the King of the Tortures.\"\n\n\"Wherefore are they called thus?\"\n\n\"The Addanc of the lake slays them once every day. When thou\ngoest thence, thou wilt come to the court of the Countess of the\nAchievements.\"\n\n\"What achievements are there?\" asked Peredur.\n\n\"Three hundred men there are in her household, and unto every stranger\nthat comes to the court the achievements of her household are related.\nAnd this is the manner of it,--the three hundred men of the household\nsit next unto the lady, and that not through disrespect unto the\nguests, but that they may relate the achievements of the household. And\nthe day that thou goest thence, thou wilt reach the Mound of Mourning;\nand round about the mound there are the owners of three hundred tents\nguarding the serpent.\"\n\n\"Since thou hast, indeed, been an oppressor so long,\" said Peredur, \"I\nwill cause that thou continue so no longer.\" So he slew him.\n\nThen the maiden spoke, and began to converse with him. \"If thou wast\npoor when thou camest here, henceforth thou wilt be rich through the\ntreasure of the black man whom thou hast slain. Thou seest the many\nlovely maidens that there are in this court: thou shalt have her whom\nthou best likest for the lady of thy love.\"\n\n\"Lady, I came not hither from my country to woo; but match yourselves\nas it liketh you with the comely youths I see here. And none of your\ngoods do I desire; for I need them not.\" Then Peredur rode forward,\nand he came to the palace of the Sons of the King of the Tortures. And\nwhen he entered the palace he saw none but women; and they rose up,\nand were joyful at his coming; and, as they began to discourse with\nhim, he beheld a charger arrive, with a saddle upon it and a corpse in\nthe saddle. And one of the women arose, and took the corpse from the\nsaddle, and anointed it in a vessel of warm water which was below the\ndoor, and placed precious balsam upon it. And the man rose up alive,\nand came to the place where Peredur was, and greeted him, and was\njoyful to see him. And two other men came in upon their saddles; and\nthe maiden treated these two in the same manner as she had done the\nfirst. Then Peredur asked the chieftain wherefore it was thus. And they\ntold him that there was an Addanc in a cave, which slew them once every\nday. And thus they remained that night.\n\nAnd next morning the youths arose to sally forth, and Peredur besought\nthem, for the sake of the ladies of their love, to permit him to go\nwith them; but they refused him, saying, \"If thou shouldst be slain\nthere, thou hast none to bring thee back to life again.\"\n\nAnd they rode forward, and Peredur followed after them; and, after\nthey had disappeared out of his sight, he came to a mound, whereon sat\nthe fairest lady he had ever beheld.\n\n\"I know thy quest,\" said she. \"Thou art going to encounter the Addanc,\nand he will slay thee, and that not by courage, but by craft. He has\na cave, and at the entrance of the cave there is a stone pillar, and\nhe sees every one that enters, and none see him; and from behind the\npillar he slays every one with a poisonous dart. And, if thou wouldst\npledge me thy faith to love me above all women, I would give thee a\nstone by which thou shouldst see him when thou goest in, and he should\nnot see thee.\"\n\n\"I will, by my troth,\" said Peredur; \"for, when first I beheld thee, I\nloved thee. And where shall I seek thee?\"\n\n\"When thou seekest me, seek towards India.\" And the maiden vanished,\nafter placing the stone in Peredur's hand.\n\nAnd he came towards a valley, through which ran a river; and the\nborders of the valley were wooded, and on each side of the river were\nlevel meadows. And on one side of the river he saw a flock of white\nsheep, and on the other a flock of black sheep. And whenever one of the\nwhite sheep bleated, one of the black sheep would cross over and become\nwhite; and, when one of the black sheep bleated, one of the white sheep\nwould cross over and become black. And he saw a tall tree by the side\nof the river, one half of which was in flames from the root to the\ntop, and the other half was green and in full leaf. And nigh thereto he\nsaw a youth sitting upon a mound, and two greyhounds, white-breasted\nand spotted, in leashes, lying by his side. And certain was he that he\nhad never seen a youth of so royal a bearing as he. And in the wood\nopposite he heard hounds raising a herd of deer. And Peredur saluted\nthe youth, and the youth greeted him in return. And there were three\nroads leading from the mound: two of them were wide roads, and the\nthird was more narrow. And Peredur inquired where the three roads went.\n\n\"One of them goes to my palace,\" said the youth; \"and one of two things\nI counsel thee to do,--either to proceed to my palace, which is before\nthee, and where thou wilt find my wife, or else remain here to see the\nhounds chasing the roused deer from the wood to the plain. And thou\nshalt see the best greyhounds thou didst ever behold, and the boldest\nin the chase, kill them by the water beside us. And when it is time to\ngo to meat, my page will come with my horse to meet me, and thou shalt\nrest in my palace to-night.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee. But I cannot tarry, for onward must I go.\"\n\n\"The other road leads to the town, which is near here, and wherein\nfood and liquor may be bought. And the road which is narrower than the\nothers goes towards the cave of the Addanc.\"\n\n\"With thy permission, young man, I will go that way.\"\n\nAnd Peredur went towards the cave. And he took the stone in his left\nhand, and his lance in his right. And as he went in he perceived the\nAddanc, and he pierced him through with his lance, and cut off his\nhead. And, as he came from the cave, behold, the three companions were\nat the entrance; and they saluted Peredur, and told him that there was\na prediction that he should slay that monster. And Peredur gave the\nhead to the young men, and they offered him in marriage whichever of\nthe three sisters he might choose, and half their kingdom with her.\n\n\"I came not hither to woo,\" said Peredur; \"but if, peradventure, I took\na wife, I should prefer your sister to all others.\" And Peredur rode\nforward, and he heard a noise behind him. And he looked back, and saw a\nman upon a red horse, with red armor upon him. And the man rode up by\nhis side, and saluted him, and wished him the favor of Heaven and of\nman. And Peredur greeted the youth kindly.\n\n\"Lord, I come to make a request unto thee.\"\n\n\"What would'st thou?\"\n\n\"That thou should'st take me as thine attendant.\"\n\n\"Whom, then, should I take as my attendant, if I did so?\"\n\n\"I will not conceal from thee what kindred I am of. Etlym Gleddyv Coch\nam I called, an earl from the East Country.\"\n\n\"I marvel that thou should'st offer to become attendant to a man whose\npossessions are no greater than thine own; for I have but an earldom\nlike thyself. But, since thou desirest to be my attendant, I will take\nthee joyfully.\"\n\nAnd they went forward to the court of the countess, and all they of the\ncourt were glad at their coming; and they were told it was not through\ndisrespect they were placed below the household, but that such was the\nusage of the court. For whoever should overthrow the three hundred men\nof her household would sit next the countess, and she would love him\nabove all men. And Peredur, having overthrown the three hundred men of\nher household, sat down beside her; and the countess said, \"I thank\nHeaven that I have a youth so fair and so valiant as thou, since I have\nnot obtained the man whom best I love.\"\n\n\"Who is he whom best thou lovest?\"\n\n\"By my faith, Etlym Gleddyv Coch is the man whom I love best, and I\nhave never seen him.\"\n\n\"Of a truth, Etlym is my companion; and, behold, here he is, and for\nhis sake did I come to joust with thy household. And he could have done\nso better than I, had it pleased him. And I do give thee unto him.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee, fair youth, and I will take the man whom I love\nabove all others.\" And the countess became Etlym's bride from that\nmoment.\n\nAnd the next day Peredur set forth towards the Mound of Mourning.\n\n\"By thy hand, lord, but I will go with thee,\" said Etlym. Then they\nwent forward till they came in sight of the mound and the tents.\n\n\"Go unto yonder men,\" said Peredur to Etlym, \"and desire them to come\nand do me homage.\"\n\nSo Etlym went unto them, and said unto them thus \"Come and do homage to\nmy lord.\"\n\n\"Who is thy lord?\" said they.\n\n\"Peredur with the long lance is my lord,\" said Etlym.\n\n\"Were it permitted to slay a messenger, thou shouldest not go back to\nthy lord alive, for making unto kings and earls and barons so arrogant\na demand as to go and do him homage.\"\n\nPeredur desired him to go back to them, and to give them their choice,\neither to do him homage or to do battle with him. And they chose rather\nto do battle. And that day Peredur overthrew the owners of a hundred\ntents; and the next day he overthrew the owners of a hundred more;\nand the third day the remaining hundred took counsel to do homage to\nPeredur. And Peredur inquired of them wherefore they were there. And\nthey told him they were guarding the serpent until he should die. \"For\nthen should we fight for the stone among ourselves, and whoever should\nbe conqueror among us would have the stone.\"\n\n\"Await here,\" said Peredur, \"and I will go to encounter the serpent.\"\n\n\"Not so, lord,\" said they: \"we will go all together to encounter the\nserpent.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Peredur, \"that will I not permit; for if the serpent be\nslain I shall derive no more fame therefrom than one of you.\" Then he\nwent to the place where the serpent was, and slew it, and came back\nto them, and said, \"Reckon up what you have spent since you have been\nhere, and I will repay you to the full.\" And he paid to each what he\nsaid was his claim. And he required of them only that they should\nacknowledge themselves his vassals. And he said to Etlym, \"Go back unto\nher whom thou lovest best, and I will go forward, and I will reward\nthee for having been my attendant.\" And he gave Etlym the stone.\n\n\"Heaven repay thee and prosper thee,\" said Etlym.\n\nAnd Peredur rode thence, and he came to the fairest valley he had\never seen, through which ran a river; and there he beheld many tents\nof various colors. And he marvelled still more at the number of\nwater-mills and of windmills that he saw. And there rode up with him a\ntall auburn-haired man in a workman's garb; and Peredur inquired of him\nwho he was.\n\n\"I am the chief miller,\" said he, \"of all the mills yonder.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou give me lodging?\" said Peredur.\n\n\"I will, gladly,\" he answered.\n\nAnd Peredur came to the miller's house, and the miller had a fair and\npleasant dwelling. And Peredur asked money as a loan from the miller,\nthat he might buy meat and liquor for himself and for the household,\nand he promised that he would pay him again ere he went thence. And he\ninquired of the miller wherefore such a multitude was there assembled.\n\nSaid the miller to Peredur, \"One thing is certain: either thou art a\nman from afar, or thou art beside thyself. The Empress of Cristinobyl\nthe Great is here; and she will have no one but the man who is most\nvaliant; for riches does she not require. And it was impossible to\nbring food for so many thousands as are here, therefore were all these\nmills constructed.\"\n\nAnd that night they took their rest.\n\nAnd the next day Peredur arose, and he equipped himself and his horse\nfor the tournament. And among the other tents he beheld one which was\nthe fairest he had ever seen. And he saw a beauteous maiden leaning\nher head out of a window of the tent, and he had never seen a maiden\nmore lovely than she. And upon her was a garment of satin. And he\ngazed fixedly on the maiden, and began to love her greatly. And he\nremained there, gazing upon the maiden from morning until mid-day, and\nfrom mid-day until evening; and then the tournament was ended, and he\nwent to his lodging, and drew off his armor. Then he asked money of\nthe miller as a loan, and the miller's wife was wroth with Peredur:\nnevertheless, the miller lent him the money. And the next day he did\nin like manner as he had done the day before. And at night he came to\nhis lodging, and took money as a loan from the miller. And the third\nday, as he was in the same place, gazing upon the maiden, he felt a\nhard blow between the neck and the shoulder, from the edge of an axe.\nAnd when he looked behind him, he saw that it was the miller; and the\nmiller said to him, \"Do one of two things: either turn thy head from\nhence, or go to the tournament.\"\n\nAnd Peredur smiled on the miller, and went to the tournament; and\nall that encountered him that day he overthrew. And as many as he\nvanquished he sent as a gift to the empress; and their horses and arms\nhe sent as a gift to the wife of the miller in payment of the borrowed\nmoney. Peredur attended the tournament until all were overthrown, and\nhe sent all the men to the prison of the empress, and the horses and\narms to the wife of the miller in payment of the borrowed money. And\nthe empress sent to the Knight of the Mill to ask him to come and visit\nher. And Peredur went not for the first nor for the second message.\nAnd the third time she sent a hundred knights to bring him against his\nwill, and they went to him and told him their mission from the empress.\nAnd Peredur fought well with them, and caused them to be bound like\nstags, and thrown into the mill-dike. And the empress sought advice\nof a wise man who was in her counsel; and he said to her, \"With thy\npermission I will go to him myself.\" So he came to Peredur and saluted\nhim, and besought him for the sake of the lady of his love to come and\nvisit the empress. And they went, together with the miller. And Peredur\nwent and sat down in the outer chamber of the tent, and she came and\nplaced herself by his side. And there was but little discourse between\nthem. And Peredur took his leave, and went to his lodging.\n\nAnd the next day he came to visit her, and, when he came into the tent,\nthere was no one chamber less decorated than the others. And they knew\nnot where he would sit. And Peredur went and sat beside the empress,\nand discoursed with her courteously. And while they were thus, they\nbeheld a black man enter, with a goblet full of wine in his hand. And\nhe dropped upon his knee before the empress, and besought her to give\nit to no one who would not fight with him for it. And she looked upon\nPeredur.\n\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"bestow on me the goblet.\" And Peredur drank the wine,\nand gave the goblet to the miller's wife. And while they were thus,\nbehold, there entered a black man of larger stature than the other,\nwith a wild beast's claw in his hand, wrought into the form of a goblet\nand filled with wine. And he presented it to the empress, and besought\nher to give it to no one but the man who would fight him. \"Lady,\" said\nPeredur, \"bestow it on me.\" And she gave it to him. And Peredur drank\nthe wine, and sent the goblet to the wife of the miller. And while they\nwere thus, behold, a rough-looking crisp-haired man, taller than either\nof the others, came in with a bowl in his hand full of wine; and he\nbent upon his knee, and gave it into the hands of the empress, and he\nbesought her to give it to none but him who would fight with him for\nit; and she gave it to Peredur, and he sent it to the miller's wife.\nAnd that night Peredur returned to his lodging; and the next day he\naccoutred himself and his horse, and went to the meadow, and slew the\nthree men. Then Peredur proceeded to the tent; and the empress said to\nhim, \"Goodly Peredur, remember the faith thou didst pledge me when I\ngave thee the stone, and thou didst kill the Addanc.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" answered he, \"thou sayest truth: I do remember it.\"\n\nAnd Peredur was entertained by the empress fourteen years, as the story\nrelates.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nArthur was at Caerlleon-upon-Usk, his principal palace; and in the\ncentre of the floor of the hall were four men sitting on a carpet\nof velvet,--Owain the son of Urien, and Gwalchmai the son of Gwyar,\nand Howel the son of Emyr Llydaw, and Peredur of the long lance. And\nthereupon they saw a black curly-headed maiden enter, riding upon a\nyellow mule, with jagged thongs in her hand to urge it on, and having\na rough and hideous aspect. Blacker were her face and her two hands\nthan the blackest iron covered with pitch; and her hue was not more\nfrightful than her form. High cheeks had she, and a face lengthened\ndownwards, and a short nose with distended nostrils. And one eye was of\na piercing mottled gray, and the other was as black as jet, deep sunk\nin her head. And her teeth were long and yellow,--more yellow were\nthey than the flower of the broom. And her back was in the shape of a\ncrook. And her figure was very thin and spare, except her feet, which\nwere of huge size. And she greeted Arthur and all his household, except\nPeredur. And to Peredur she spoke harsh and angry words. \"Peredur, I\ngreet thee not, seeing that thou dost not merit it. Blind was Fate in\ngiving thee fame and favor. When thou wast in the court of the Lame\nKing, and didst see there the youth bearing the streaming spear from\nthe points of which were drops of blood flowing in streams even to\nthe hand of the youth, and many other wonders likewise, thou didst\nnot inquire their meaning nor their cause. Hadst thou done so, the\nking would have been restored to health, and his dominions to peace.\nWhereas from henceforth he will have to endure battles and conflicts,\nand his knights will perish, and wives will be widowed, and maidens\nwill be left portionless, and all this is because of thee.\" Then said\nshe unto Arthur, \"May it please thee, lord, my dwelling is far hence,\nin the stately castle of which thou hast heard, and therein are five\nhundred and sixty-six knights of the order of chivalry, and the lady\nwhom best he loves with each; and whoever would acquire fame in arms\nand encounters and conflicts, he will gain it there, if he deserve it.\nAnd whoso would reach the summit of fame and of honor, I know where he\nmay find it. There is a castle on a lofty mountain, and a maiden [is]\ntherein, and she is a prisoner; and whoever shall set her free will\nattain the summit of the fame of the world.\" And thereupon she rode\naway.\n\nSaid Gwalchmai, \"By my faith I will not rest tranquilly until I have\nproved if I can release the maiden.\" And many of Arthur's household\njoined themselves with him.\n\nThen likewise said Peredur, \"By my faith I will not rest tranquilly\nuntil I know the story, and the meaning of the lance whereof the black\nmaiden spoke.\"\n\nAnd, while they were equipping themselves, behold a knight came to the\ngate. And he had the size and strength of a warrior, and was equipped\nwith arms and habiliments. And he went forward, and saluted Arthur\nand all his household, except Gwalchmai. And the knight had upon his\nshoulder a shield ingrained with gold, with a fesse of azure blue upon\nit, and his whole armor was of the same hue. And he said to Gwalchmai,\n\"Thou didst slay my lord by thy treachery and deceit, and that will I\nprove upon thee.\"\n\nThen Gwalchmai rose up. \"Behold,\" said he, \"here is my gage against\nthee, to maintain, either in this place or wherever else thou wilt,\nthat I am not a traitor or deceiver.\"\n\n\"Before the king whom I obey, will I that my encounter with thee take\nplace,\" said the knight.\n\n\"Willingly,\" said Gwalchmai. \"Go forward, and I will follow thee.\"\n\nSo the knight went forth, and Gwalchmai accoutred himself; and there\nwas offered unto him abundance of armor, but he would take none but his\nown. And when Gwalchmai and Peredur were equipped, they set forth to\nfollow him, by reason of their fellowship and of the great friendship\nthat was between them. And they did not go after him in company\ntogether; but each went his own way.\n\nAt the dawn of day Gwalchmai came to a valley, and in the valley he saw\na fortress, and within the fortress a vast palace, and lofty towers\naround it. And he beheld a knight coming out to hunt from the other\nside, mounted on a spirited black snorting palfrey, that advanced at a\nprancing pace, proudly stepping and nimbly bounding and sure of foot;\nand this was the man to whom the palace belonged. And Gwalchmai saluted\nhim.\n\n\"Heaven prosper thee, chieftain,\" said he; \"and whence comest thou?\"\n\n\"I come,\" answered Gwalchmai, \"from the court of Arthur.\"\n\n\"And art thou Arthur's vassal?\"\n\n\"Yes, by my faith,\" said Gwalchmai.\n\n\"I will give thee good counsel,\" said the knight. \"I see that thou art\ntired and weary: go unto my palace, if it may please thee, and tarry\nthere to-night.\"\n\n\"Willingly, lord,\" said he, \"and Heaven reward thee!\"\n\n\"Take this ring as a token to the porter, and go forward to yonder\ntower, and therein thou wilt find my sister.\"\n\nAnd Gwalchmai went to the gate, and showed the ring, and proceeded to\nthe tower. And on entering he beheld a large blazing fire, burning\nwithout smoke and with a bright and lofty flame, and a beauteous and\nstately maiden was sitting on a chair by the fire. And the maiden was\nglad at his coming, and welcomed him, and advanced to meet him. And he\nwent and sat beside the maiden, and they took their repast. And, when\ntheir repast was over, they discoursed pleasantly together. And while\nthey were thus, behold, there entered a venerable hoary-headed man.\n\"Ah, base girl!\" said he, \"if thou did'st think that it was right for\nthee to entertain and to sit by yonder man, thou would'st not do so.\"\nAnd he withdrew his head, and went forth.\n\n\"Ah, chieftain!\" said the maiden, \"if thou wilt do as I counsel thee,\nthou wilt shut the door, lest the man should have a plot against thee.\"\n\nUpon that Gwalchmai arose; and when he came near unto the door the man\nwith sixty others fully armed was ascending the tower. And Gwalchmai\ndefended the door with a chessboard, that none might enter until the\nman should return from the chase.\n\nAnd thereupon, behold, the earl arrived. \"What is all this?\" asked he.\n\n\"It is a sad thing,\" said the hoary-headed man. \"The young girl yonder\nhas been sitting and eating with him who slew your father. He is\nGwalchmai, the son of Gwyar.\"\n\n\"Hold thy peace, then,\" said the earl: \"I will go in.\" And the earl was\njoyful concerning Gwalchmai. \"Ha, chieftain!\" said he, \"it was wrong\nof thee to come to my court when thou knewest that thou didst slay my\nfather; and, though we cannot avenge him, Heaven will avenge him upon\nthee.\"\n\n\"My soul,\" said Gwalchmai, \"thus it is. I came not here either to\nacknowledge or to deny having slain thy father; but I am on a message\nfrom Arthur, and therefore do I crave the space of a year until I shall\nreturn from my embassy, and then, upon my faith, I will come back unto\nthis palace, and do one of two things,--either acknowledge it, or deny\nit.\" And the time was granted him willingly; and he remained there\nthat night. And the next morning he rode forth. And the story relates\nnothing further of Gwalchmai respecting this adventure.\n\nAnd Peredur rode forward. And he wandered over the whole island,\nseeking tidings of the black maiden, and he could meet with none. [And\nafter many days, and great deeds of arms and perilous adventures, at\nlast Peredur met with a certain maiden, and asked her the way to the\nCastle of Wonders.] Then she said to him, \"Go over yonder mountain, and\nthou wilt find a lake, and in the middle of the lake there is a castle,\nand that is the castle that is called the Castle of Wonders. And we\nknow not what wonders are therein, but thus is it called.\"\n\nAnd Peredur proceeded towards the castle, and the gate of the castle\nwas open. And when he came to the hall, the door was open, and he\nentered. And he beheld a chessboard in the hall, and the chessmen were\nplaying against each other by themselves. And the side that he favored\nlost the game, and thereupon the others set up a shout as though they\nhad been living men. And Peredur was wroth, and took the chessmen in\nhis lap, and cast the chessboard into the lake. And when he had done\nthus, behold, the black maiden came in; and she said to him, \"The\nwelcome of Heaven be not unto thee. Thou hadst rather do evil than\ngood.\"\n\n[Illustration: Peredur and the Chessmen.]\n\n\"What complaint hast thou against me, maiden?\" said Peredur.\n\n\"That thou hast occasioned unto the empress the loss of her chessboard,\nwhich she would not have lost for all her empire. And the way in which\nthou mayest recover the chessboard is to repair to the Castle of\nYsbidinongyl, where is a black man who lays waste the dominions of the\nempress; and, if thou canst slay him, thou wilt recover the chessboard.\nBut, if thou goest there, thou wilt not return alive.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou direct me thither?\" said Peredur.\n\n\"I will show thee the way,\" she replied.\n\nSo he went to the Castle of Ysbidinongyl, and he fought with the black\nman. And the black man besought mercy of Peredur.\n\n\"Mercy will I grant thee,\" said he, \"on condition that thou cause the\nchessboard to be restored to the place where it was when I entered the\nhall.\"\n\nThen the maiden came to him, and said, \"The malediction of Heaven\nattend thee for thy work, since thou hast left that monster alive who\nlays waste all the possessions of the empress.\"\n\n\"I granted him his life,\" said Peredur, \"that he might cause the\nchessboard to be restored.\"\n\n\"The chessboard is not in the place where thou didst find it: go back,\ntherefore, and slay him,\" answered she.\n\nSo Peredur went back, and slew the black man. And when he returned to\nthe palace, he found the black maiden there.\n\n\"Ah, maiden!\" said Peredur, \"where is the empress?\"\n\n\"I declare to Heaven that thou wilt not see her now, unless thou dost\nslay the monster that is in yonder forest.\"\n\n\"What monster is there?\"\n\n\"It is a stag that is as swift as the swiftest bird; and he has one\nhorn in his forehead, as long as the shaft of a spear, and as sharp as\nwhatever is sharpest. And he destroys the branches of the best trees in\nthe forest, and he kills every animal that he meets with therein; and\nthose that he doth not slay perish of hunger. And, what is worse than\nthat, he comes every night and drinks up the fish-pond and leaves the\nfishes exposed, so that for the most part they die before the water\nreturns again.\"\n\n\"Maiden,\" said Peredur, \"wilt thou come and show me this animal?\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said the maiden; \"for he has not permitted any mortal to\nenter the forest for above a twelvemonth. Behold, here is a little dog\nbelonging to the empress, which will rouse the stag, and will chase him\ntowards thee, and the stag will attack thee.\"\n\nThen the little dog went as a guide to Peredur, and roused the stag,\nand brought him towards the place where Peredur was. And the stag\nattacked Peredur, and he let him pass by him, and, as he did so, he\nsmote off his head with his sword. And, while he was looking at the\nhead of the stag, he saw a lady on horseback coming towards him. And\nshe took the little dog in the lappet of her cap, and the head and\nthe body of the stag lay before her. And around the stag's neck was a\ngolden collar.\n\n\"Ha, chieftain!\" said she, \"uncourteously hast thou acted in slaying\nthe fairest jewel that was in my dominions.\"\n\n\"I was entreated so to do. And is there any way by which I can obtain\nthy friendship?\"\n\n\"There is,\" she replied. \"Go thou forward unto yonder mountain, and\nthere thou wilt find a grove; and in the grove there is a cromlech: do\nthou there challenge a man three times to fight, and thou shalt have my\nfriendship.\"\n\nSo Peredur proceeded onward, and came to the side of the grove, and\nchallenged any man to fight. And a black man arose from beneath the\ncromlech, mounted upon a bony horse, and both he and his horse were\nclad in huge rusty armor. And they fought. And as often as Peredur cast\nthe black man to the earth he would jump again into his saddle. And\nPeredur dismounted, and drew his sword; and thereupon the black man\ndisappeared with Peredur's horse and his own, so that he could not gain\nsight of him a second time. And Peredur went along the mountain, and\non the other side of the mountain he beheld a castle in the valley,\nwherein was a river. And he went to the castle; and as he entered it\nhe saw a hall, and the door of the hall was open, and he went in. And\nthere he saw a lame gray-headed man sitting on one side of the hall,\nwith Gwalchmai beside him. And Peredur beheld his horse, which the\nblack man had taken, in the same stall with that of Gwalchmai. And\nthey were glad concerning Peredur. And he went and seated himself on\nthe other side of the hoary-headed man. Then, behold a yellow-haired\nyouth came, and bent upon the knee before Peredur, and besought his\nfriendship. \"Lord,\" said the youth, \"it was I that came in the form of\nthe black maiden to Arthur's court, and when thou didst throw down the\nchessboard, and when thou didst slay the black man of Ysbidinongyl,\nand when thou didst slay the stag, and when thou didst go to fight\nthe black man of the cromlech. And I came with the bloody head in the\nsalver, and with the lance that streamed with blood from the point to\nthe hand all along the shaft; and the head was thy cousin's, and he was\nkilled by the sorceresses of Gloucester, who also lamed thine uncle;\nand I am thy cousin. And there is a prediction that thou art to avenge\nthese things.\"\n\nThen Peredur and Gwalchmai took counsel, and sent to Arthur and his\nhousehold to beseech them to come against the sorceresses. And they\nbegan to fight with them; and one of the sorceresses slew one of\nArthur's men before Peredur's face, and Peredur bade her forbear. And\nthe sorceress slew a man before Peredur's face a second time, and a\nsecond time he forbade her. And the third time the sorceress slew a man\nbefore the face of Peredur; and then Peredur drew his sword, and smote\nthe sorceress on the helmet; and all her head-armor was split in two\nparts. And she set up a cry, and desired the other sorceresses to flee,\nand told them that this was Peredur, the man who had learnt chivalry\nwith them, and by whom they were destined to be slain. Then Arthur and\nhis household fell upon the sorceresses, and slew the sorceresses of\nGloucester, every one. And thus is it related concerning the Castle of\nWonders.\n\n\n\n\n                        THE DREAM OF RHONABWY.\n\n\nMadawc the son of Maredudd possessed Powys within its boundaries, from\nPorfoed to Gwauan in the uplands of Arwystli. And at that time he had\na brother Iorwerth the son of Maredudd, in rank not equal to himself.\nAnd Iorwerth had great sorrow and heaviness because of the honor and\npower that his brother enjoyed, which he shared not. And he sought his\nfellows and his foster-brothers, and took counsel with them what he\nshould do in this matter. And they resolved to despatch some of their\nnumber to go and seek a maintenance for him. Then Madawc offered him to\nbecome master of the household, and to have horses and arms and honor,\nand to fare like as himself. But Iorwerth refused this.\n\nAnd Iorwerth made an inroad into Loegria, slaying the inhabitants, and\nburning houses, and carrying away prisoners. And Madawc took counsel\nwith the men of Powys, and they determined to place an hundred men in\neach of the three Commots of Powys to seek for him. And they spread\nthese men over the plains as far as Nillystwn Trevan.\n\nNow one of the men who was upon this quest was called Rhonabwy. And\nRhonabwy and Kynwrig Vrychgoch, a man of Mawddwy, and Cadwgan Vras, a\nman of Moelvre in Kynlleith, came together to the house of Heilyn Goch,\nthe son of Cadwgan the son of Iddon. And when they came near to the\nhouse, they saw an old hall, very black and having an upright gable,\nwhence issued a great smoke; and on entering, they found the floor\nfull of puddles and mounds; and it was difficult to stand thereon, so\nslippery was it with the mire of cattle. And where the puddles were, a\nman might go up to his ankles in water and dirt. And there were boughs\nof holly spread over the floor, whereof the cattle had browsed the\nsprigs. When they came to the hall of the house, they beheld cells full\nof dust, and very gloomy, and on one side an old hag making a fire. And\nwhenever she felt cold, she cast a lapful of chaff upon the fire, and\nraised such a smoke, that it was scarcely to be borne as it rose up the\nnostrils. And on the other side was a yellow calf-skin on the floor: a\nmain privilege was it to any one who should get upon that hide.\n\nAnd when they had sat down, they asked the hag where were the people\nof the house. And the hag spoke not, but muttered. Thereupon behold\nthe people of the house entered,--a ruddy, clownish, curly-headed man,\nwith a burthen of fagots on his back, and a pale, slender woman, also\ncarrying a bundle under her arm. And they barely welcomed the men, and\nkindled a fire with the boughs. And the woman cooked something, and\ngave them to eat,--barley bread, and cheese, and milk and water.\n\nAnd there arose a storm of wind and rain, so that it was hardly\npossible to go forth with safety. And being weary with their journey,\nthey laid themselves down, and sought to sleep. And when they looked\nat the couch, it seemed to be made but of a little coarse straw full\nof dust, with the stems of boughs sticking up there through; for the\ncattle had eaten all the straw that was placed at the head and the\nfoot. And upon it was stretched an old russet-colored rug, threadbare\nand ragged; and a coarse sheet, full of slits, was upon the rug, and\nan ill-stuffed pillow, and a worn-out cover upon the sheet. And after\nmuch suffering from the discomfort of their couch, a heavy sleep fell\non Rhonabwy's companions. But Rhonabwy, not being able either to sleep\nor to rest, thought he should suffer less if he went to lie upon the\nyellow calf-skin that was stretched out on the floor. And there he\nslept.\n\nAs soon as sleep had come upon his eyes, it seemed to him that he was\njourneying with his companions across the plain of Argyngroeg, and\nhe thought that he went towards Rhyd y Groes on the Severn. As he\njourneyed, he heard a mighty noise, the like whereof heard he never\nbefore; and looking behind him, he beheld a youth with yellow curling\nhair, and with his beard newly trimmed, mounted on a chestnut horse,\nwhereof the legs were gray from the top of the forelegs, and from the\nbend of the hindlegs downwards. And the rider wore a coat of yellow\nsatin sewn with green silk; and on his thigh was a gold-hilted sword,\nwith a scabbard of new leather of Cordova, belted with the skin of the\ndeer, and clasped with gold. And over this was a scarf of yellow satin\nwrought with green silk, the borders whereof were likewise green. And\nthe green of the caparison of the horse and of his rider was as green\nas the leaves of the fir-tree, and the yellow was as yellow as the\nblossom of the broom. So fierce was the aspect of the knight, that fear\nseized upon them, and they began to flee. And the knight pursued them.\nAnd when the horse breathed forth, the men became distant from him, and\nwhen he drew in his breath, they were drawn near to him, even to the\nhorse's chest. And when he had overtaken them, they besought his mercy.\n\n\"You have it gladly,\" said he: \"fear nought.\"\n\n\"Ha, chieftain! since thou hast mercy upon me, tell me also who thou\nart,\" said Rhonabwy.\n\n\"I will not conceal my lineage from thee. I am Iddawc the son of Mynyo;\nyet not by my name, but by my nickname, am I best known.\"\n\n\"And wilt thou tell us what thy nickname is?\"\n\n\"I will tell you. It is Iddawc Cordd Prydain.\"\n\n\"Ha, chieftain!\" said Rhonabwy. \"Why art thou called thus?\"\n\n\"I will tell thee. I was one of the messengers between Arthur and\nMedrawd his nephew, at the battle of Camlan; and I was then a reckless\nyouth, and through my desire for battle I kindled strife between them,\nand stirred up wrath when I was sent by Arthur the emperor to reason\nwith Medrawd, and to show him that he was his foster-father and his\nuncle, and to seek for peace, lest the sons of the Kings of the Island\nof Britain and of the nobles should be slain. And whereas Arthur\ncharged me with the fairest sayings he could think of, I uttered unto\nMedrawd the harshest I could devise. And therefore am I called Iddawc\nCordd Prydain, for from this did the battle of Camlan ensue. And three\nnights before the end of the battle of Camlan I left them, and went\nto the Llech Las in North Britain to do penance. And there I remained\ndoing penance seven years, and after that I gained pardon.\"\n\nAnd they journeyed over the plain of Argyngroeg as far as the ford of\nRhyd y Groes on the Severn. And for a mile around the ford on both\nsides of the road they saw tents and encampments, and there was the\nclamor of a mighty host. And they came to the edge of the ford, and\nthere they beheld Arthur, sitting on a flat island below the ford,\nhaving Bedwini the bishop on one side of him, and Gwarthegyd the son\nof Kaw on the other. And a tall, auburn-haired youth stood before\nhim, with his sheathed sword in his hand, and clad in a coat and cap\nof jet-black satin. And his face was white as ivory, and his eyebrows\nblack as jet, and such part of his wrist as could be seen between his\nglove and his sleeve was whiter than the lily, and thicker than a\nwarrior's ankle.\n\nThen they beheld another troop coming towards the ford; and these from\ntheir horses' chests upwards were whiter than the lily, and below\nblacker than jet. And they saw one of these knights go before the\nrest, and spur his horse into the ford in such a manner that the water\ndashed over Arthur and the bishop, and those holding counsel with them,\nso that they were as wet as if they had been drenched in the river. And\nas he turned the head of his horse, the youth who stood before Arthur\nstruck the horse over the nostrils with his sheathed sword, so that,\nhad it been with the bare blade, it would have been a marvel if the\nbone had not been wounded as well as the flesh. And the knight drew his\nsword half out of the scabbard, and asked of him, \"Wherefore didst thou\nstrike my horse? Whether was it in insult, or in counsel unto me?\"\n\n\"Thou dost indeed lack counsel. What madness caused thee to ride\nso furiously as to dash the water of the ford over Arthur, and the\nconsecrated bishop, and their counsellors, so that they were as wet as\nif they had been dragged out of the river?\"\n\n\"As counsel, then, will I take it.\" So he turned his horse's head round\ntowards his army.\n\n\"Iddawc,\" said Rhonabwy, \"who was yonder knight?\"\n\n\"The most eloquent and the wisest youth that is in this island,--Adaon,\nthe son of Taliesin.\"\n\n\"Who was the man that struck his horse?\"\n\n\"A youth of froward nature,--Elphin, the son of Gwyddno.\"\n\nThen Iddawc took Rhonabwy behind him on his horse, and that mighty\nhost moved forward, each troop in its order, towards Cevndigoll. And\nwhen they came to the middle of the ford of the Severn, Iddawc turned\nhis horse's head, and Rhonabwy looked along the valley of the Severn.\nAnd he beheld two fair troops coming towards the ford. One troop there\ncame of brilliant white, whereof every one of the men had a scarf of\nwhite satin with jet-black borders. And the knees and the tops of the\nshoulders of their horses were jet-black, though they were of a pure\nwhite in every other part. And their banners were pure white, with\nblack points to them all.\n\n\"Iddawc,\" said Rhonabwy, \"who are yonder pure-white troop?\"\n\n\"They are the men of Norway; and March, the son of Meirchion, is their\nprince. And he is cousin unto Arthur.\"\n\nAnd further on he saw a troop whereof each man wore garments of\njet-black, with borders of pure white to every scarf; and the tops of\nthe shoulders and the knees of their horses were pure white. And their\nbanners were jet-black with pure white at the point of each.\n\n\"Iddawc,\" said Rhonabwy, \"who are the jet-black troop yonder?\"\n\n\"They are the men of Denmark; and Edeyrn, the son of Nudd, is their\nprince.\"\n\nAnd when they had overtaken the host, Arthur and his army of mighty\nones dismounted below Caer Badou, and he perceived that he and Iddawc\njourneyed the same road as Arthur. And after they had dismounted, he\nheard a great tumult and confusion amongst the host; and such as were\nthen at the flanks turned to the centre, and such as had been in the\ncentre moved to the flanks. And then, behold, he saw a knight coming,\nclad, both he and his horse, in mail, of which the rings were whiter\nthan the whitest lily, and the rivets redder than the ruddiest blood.\nAnd he rode amongst the host.\n\nThereupon they heard a call made for Kadwr, Earl of Cornwall; and\nbehold he arose, with the sword of Arthur in his hand. And the\nsimilitude of two serpents was upon the sword in gold. And when the\nsword was drawn from its scabbard, it seemed as if two flames of fire\nburst forth from the jaws of the serpents, and then, so wonderful was\nthe sword, that it was hard for any one to look upon it. And the host\nbecame still, and the tumult ceased, and the earl returned to the tent.\n\n\"Iddawc,\" said Rhonabwy, \"who is the man who bore the sword of Arthur?\"\n\n\"Kadwr, the Earl of Cornwall, whose duty it is to arm the King on the\ndays of battle and warfare.\"\n\nAnd they heard a call made for Eirynwych Amheibyn, Arthur's servant, a\nred, rough, ill-favored man, having red whiskers with bristly hairs.\nAnd behold he came upon a tall red horse, with the mane parted on\neach side, and he brought with him a large and beautiful sumter pack.\nAnd the huge red youth dismounted before Arthur, and he drew a golden\nchair out of the pack, and a carpet of diapered satin. And he spread\nthe carpet before Arthur, and there was an apple of ruddy gold at each\ncorner thereof, and he placed the chair upon the carpet. And so large\nwas the chair, that three armed warriors might have sat therein. Gwenn\nwas the name of the carpet; and it was one of its properties that\nwhoever was upon it no one could see him, and he could see every one.\nAnd it would retain no color but its own.\n\nAnd Arthur sat within the carpet, and Owain the son of Urien was\nstanding before him. \"Owain,\" said Arthur, \"wilt thou play chess?\"\n\n\"I will, lord,\" said Owain.\n\nAnd the red youth brought the chess for Arthur and Owain; golden pieces\nand a board of silver. And they began to play.\n\nAnd while they were thus, and when they were best amused with their\ngame, behold they saw a white tent with a red canopy, and the figure of\na jet-black serpent on the top of the tent, and red glaring venomous\neyes in the head of the serpent, and a red flaming tongue. And there\ncame a young page with yellow curling hair, and blue eyes, and a\nnewly-springing beard, wearing a coat and a surcoat of yellow satin,\nand hose of thin greenish-yellow cloth upon his feet, and over his hose\nshoes of party-colored leather, fastened at the insteps with golden\nclasps. And he bore a heavy three-edged sword with a golden hilt, in\na scabbard of black leather tipped with fine gold. And he came to the\nplace where the emperor and Owain were playing at chess.\n\nAnd the youth saluted Owain. And Owain marvelled that the youth should\nsalute him, and should not have saluted the Emperor Arthur. And Arthur\nknew what was in Owain's thought. And he said to Owain, \"Marvel not\nthat the youth salutes thee now, for he saluted me erewhile; and it is\nunto thee that his errand is.\"\n\nThen said the youth unto Owain, \"Lord, is it with thy leave that the\nyoung pages and attendants of the emperor harass and torment and worry\nthy ravens? And, if it be not with thy leave, cause the emperor to\nforbid them.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Owain, \"thou hearest what the youth says: if it seem good\nto thee, forbid them from my ravens.\"\n\n\"Play thy game,\" said he. Then the youth returned to the tent.\n\nThat game did they finish, and another they began, and, when they were\nin the midst of the game, behold, a ruddy young man with auburn curling\nhair and large eyes, well-grown, and having his beard new-shorn, came\nforth from a bright yellow tent upon the summit of which was the figure\nof a bright red lion. And he was clad in a coat of yellow satin,\nfalling as low as the small of his leg, and embroidered with threads of\nred silk. And on his feet were hose of fine white buckram; and buskins\nof black leather were over his hose, whereon were golden clasps. And\nin his hand a huge, heavy, three-edged sword, with a scabbard of red\ndeer-hide, tipped with gold. And he came to the place where Arthur\nand Owain were playing at chess. And he saluted him. And Owain was\ntroubled at his salutation; but Arthur minded it no more than before.\nAnd the youth said unto Owain, \"Is it not against thy will that the\nattendants of the emperor harass thy ravens, killing some, and worrying\nothers? If against thy will it be, beseech him to forbid them.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Owain, \"forbid thy men, if it seem good to thee.\"\n\n\"Play thy game,\" said the emperor. And the youth returned to the tent.\n\nAnd that game was ended, and another begun. And as they were beginning\nthe first move of the game, they beheld at a small distance from them\na tent speckled yellow, the largest ever seen, and the figure of an\neagle of gold upon it, and a precious stone on the eagle's head. And\ncoming out of the tent they saw a youth with thick yellow hair upon his\nhead, fair and comely, and a scarf of blue satin upon him, and a brooch\nof gold in the scarf upon his right shoulder as large as a warrior's\nmiddle finger. And upon his feet were hose of fine Totness, and shoes\nof parti-colored leather, clasped with gold; and the youth was of noble\nbearing, fair of face, with ruddy cheeks and large hawk's eyes. In the\nhand of the youth was a mighty lance, speckled yellow, with a newly\nsharpened head; and upon the lance a banner displayed.\n\nFiercely angry, and with rapid pace, came the youth to the place where\nArthur was playing at chess with Owain. And they perceived that he was\nwroth. And thereupon he saluted Owain, and told him that his ravens had\nbeen killed, the chief part of them, and that such of them as were not\nslain were so wounded and bruised, that not one of them could raise its\nwings a single fathom above the earth.\n\n\"Lord,\" said Owain, \"forbid thy men.\"\n\n\"Pray,\" said he, \"if it please thee.\"\n\nThen said Owain to the youth, \"Go back, and wherever thou findest the\nstrife at the thickest, there lift up the banner, and let come what\npleases Heaven.\"\n\nSo the youth returned back to the place where the strife bore hardest\nupon the ravens, and he lifted up the banner; and as he did so they\nall rose up in the air, wrathful and fierce, and high of spirit,\nclapping their wings in the wind, and shaking off the weariness that\nwas upon them. And recovering their energy and courage, furiously and\nwith exultation did they, with one sweep, descend upon the heads of\nthe men who had erewhile caused them anger and pain and damage; and\nthey seized some by the heads and others by the eyes, and some by the\nears and others by the arms, and carried them up into the air; and in\nthe air there was a mighty tumult with the flapping of the wings of\nthe triumphant ravens, and with their croaking; and there was another\nmighty tumult with the groaning of the men that were being torn and\nwounded, and some of whom were slain.\n\nAnd Arthur and Owain marvelled at the tumult as they played at chess;\nand, looking, they perceived a knight upon a dun-colored horse coming\ntowards them. And marvellous was the hue of the dun horse. Bright red\nwas his right shoulder, and from the top of his legs to the centre of\nhis hoof was bright yellow. Both the knight and his horse were fully\nequipped with heavy foreign armor. The clothing of the horse from\nthe front opening upwards was of bright red sendal, and from thence,\nopening downwards, was of bright yellow sendal. A large gold-hilted\none-edged sword had the youth upon his thigh, in a scabbard of\nlight-blue, and tipped with Spanish laton. The belt of the sword was of\ndark-green leather with golden slides, and a clasp of ivory upon it,\nand a buckle of jet-black upon the clasp. A helmet of gold was on the\nhead of the knight, set with precious stones of great virtue; and at\nthe top of the helmet was the image of a flame-colored leopard with two\nruby-red stones in its head, so that it was astounding for a warrior,\nhowever stout his heart, to look at the face of the leopard, much more\nat the face of the knight. He had in his hand a blue-shafted lance; but\nfrom the haft to the point it was stained crimson-red with the blood of\nthe ravens and their plumage.\n\n[Illustration: The Army of Ravens.]\n\nThe knight came to the place where Arthur and Owain were seated at\nchess. And they perceived that he was harassed and vexed and weary as\nhe came towards them. And the youth saluted Arthur, and told him that\nthe ravens of Owain were slaying his young men and attendants. And\nArthur looked at Owain and said, \"Forbid thy ravens.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" answered Owain, \"play thy game.\" And they played. And the\nknight returned back towards the strife, and the ravens were not\nforbidden any more than before.\n\nAnd when they had played a while, they heard a mighty tumult, and a\nwailing of men, and a croaking of ravens, as they carried the men in\ntheir strength into the air, and, tearing them betwixt them, let them\nfall piecemeal to the earth. And during the tumult they saw a knight\ncoming towards them, on a light-gray horse, and the left foreleg of\nthe horse was jet-black to the centre of his hoof. And the knight and\nthe horse were fully accoutred with huge heavy blue armor. And a robe\nof honor of yellow diapered satin was upon the knight, and the borders\nof the robe were blue. And the housings of the horse were jet-black,\nwith borders of bright yellow. And on the thigh of the youth was a\nsword, long and three-edged and heavy. And the scabbard was of red\ncut leather, and the belt of new red deerskin, having upon it many\ngolden slides, and a buckle of the bone of the seahorse, the tongue of\nwhich was jet-black. A golden helmet was upon the head of the knight,\nwherein were set sapphire-stones of great virtue. And at the top of\nthe helmet was the figure of a flame-colored lion, with a fiery-red\ntongue, issuing above a foot from his mouth, and with venomous eyes,\ncrimson-red, in his head. And the knight came, bearing in his hand a\nthick ashen lance, the head whereof, which had been newly steeped in\nblood, was overlaid with silver.\n\nAnd the youth saluted the emperor. \"Lord,\" said he, \"carest thou not\nfor the slaying of thy pages, and thy young men, and the sons of the\nnobles of the Island of Britain, whereby it will be difficult to defend\nthis island from henceforward forever?\"\n\n\"Owain,\" said Arthur, \"forbid thy ravens.\"\n\n\"Play this game, lord,\" said Owain.\n\nSo they finished the game, and began another; and as they were\nfinishing that game, lo, they heard a great tumult, and a clamor of\narmed men, and a croaking of ravens, and a flapping of wings in the\nair, as they flung down the armor entire to the ground, and the men and\nthe horses piecemeal. Then they saw coming a knight on a lofty-headed\npiebald horse. And the left shoulder of the horse was of bright red,\nand its right leg, from the chest to the hollow of the hoof, was pure\nwhite. And the knight and horse were equipped with arms of speckled\nyellow, variegated with Spanish laton. And there was a robe of honor\nupon him and upon his horse, divided in two parts, white and black; and\nthe borders of the robe of honor were of golden purple. And above the\nrobe he wore a sword, three-edged and bright, with a golden hilt. And\nthe belt of the sword was of yellow goldwork, having a clasp upon it\nof the eyelid of a black seahorse, and a tongue of yellow gold to the\nclasp. Upon the head of the knight was a bright helmet of yellow laton,\nwith sparkling stones of crystal in it, and at the crest of the helmet\nwas the figure of a griffin, with a stone of many virtues in its head.\nAnd he had an ashen spear in his hand, with a round shaft, colored\nwith azure-blue. And the head of the spear was newly stained with\nblood, and was overlaid with fine silver.\n\nWrathfully came the knight to the place where Arthur was; and he told\nhim that the ravens had slain his household, and the sons of the chief\nmen of this island, and he besought him to cause Owain to forbid his\nravens. And Arthur besought Owain to forbid them. Then Arthur took the\ngolden chessmen that were upon the board, and crushed them until they\nbecame as dust. Then Owain ordered Gwres, the son of Rheged, to lower\nhis banner. So it was lowered, and all was peace.\n\nThen Rhonabwy inquired of Iddawc who were the first three men that came\nto Owain to tell him his ravens were being slain.\n\nSaid Iddawc, \"They were men who grieved that Owain should suffer loss,\nhis fellow-chieftains and companions, Selyv the son of Kynan Garwyn\nof Powys, and Gwgawn Gleddyvrudd, and Gwres the son of Rheged, he who\nbears the banner in the day of battle and strife.\"\n\n\"Who,\" said Rhonabwy, \"were the last three men who came to Arthur, and\ntold him that the ravens were slaughtering his men?\"\n\n\"The best of men,\" said Iddawc, \"and the bravest, and who would grieve\nexceedingly that Arthur should have damage in aught; Blathaon the son\nof Mawrheth, and Rhuvawn Pebyr the son of Prince Deorthach, and Hyveidd\nUnllenn.\"\n\nAnd with that, behold four and twenty knights came from Osla\nGyllellvawr to crave a truce of Arthur for a fortnight and a month.\nAnd Arthur arose and went to take counsel. And he came to where a tall\nauburn, curly-headed man was a little way off, and there he assembled\nhis counsellors,--Bedwini, the Bishop, and Gwarthegyd the son of Kaw,\nGildas the son of Kaw, Kadyriaith the son of Saidi, and many of the men\nof Norway and Denmark, and many of the men of Greece, [and many more\nbeside].\n\n\"Iddawc,\" said Rhonabwy, \"who was the auburn-haired man to whom they\ncame just now?\"\n\n\"Rhun the son of Maelgwn Gwynedd, a man whose prerogative it is that he\nmay join in counsel with all.\"\n\n\"And wherefore did they admit into counsel with men of such dignity as\nare yonder a stripling so young as Kadyriaith the son of Saidi?\"\n\n\"Because there is not throughout Britain a man better skilled in\ncounsel than he.\"\n\nThereupon, behold, bards came and recited verses before Arthur, and no\nman understood those verses but Kadyriaith only, save that they were in\nArthur's praise.\n\nAnd, lo, there came four and twenty asses, with their burdens of gold\nand of silver, and a tired, wayworn man with each of them, bringing\ntribute to Arthur from the Islands of Greece. Then Kadyriaith the son\nof Saidi besought that a truce might be granted to Osla Gyllellvawr\nfor the space of a fortnight and a month, and that the asses and the\nburdens they carried might be given to the bards to be to them as the\nreward for their stay, and that their verse might be recompensed during\nthe time of the truce. And thus it was settled.\n\n\"Rhonabwy,\" said Iddawc, \"would it not be wrong to forbid a youth who\ncan give counsel so liberal as this from coming to the councils of his\nlord?\"\n\nThen Kai arose, and he said, \"Whosoever will follow Arthur, let him\nbe with him to-night in Cornwall; and whosoever will not, let him be\nopposed to Arthur even during the truce.\"\n\nAnd through the greatness of the tumult that ensued, Rhonabwy awoke.\nAnd when he awoke he was upon the yellow calf-skin, having slept three\nnights and three days.\n\nAnd this tale is called the Dream of Rhonabwy. And this is the reason\nthat no one knows the dream without a book, neither bard nor gifted\nseer, because of the various colors that were upon the horses, and\nthe many wondrous colors of the arms and of the panoply, and of the\nprecious scarfs, and of the virtue-bearing stones.\n\n\n\n\n                        PWYLL, PRINCE OF DYVED.\n\n\nPwyll, Prince of Dyved, was lord of the seven Cantrevs of Dyved; and\nonce upon a time he was at Narberth, his chief palace, and he was\nminded to go and hunt, and the part of his dominions in which it\npleased him to hunt was Glyn Cuch. So he set forth from Narberth that\nnight, and went as far as Llwyn Diarwyd. And that night he tarried\nthere, and early on the morrow he rose and came to Glyn Cuch, when he\nlet loose the dogs in the wood, and sounded the horn, and began the\nchase. And as he followed the dogs, he lost his companions; and whilst\nhe listened to the hounds, he heard the cry of other hounds,--a cry\ndifferent from his own, and coming in the opposite direction.\n\nAnd he beheld a glade in the wood forming a level plain, and as his\ndogs came to the edge of the glade, he saw a stag before the other\ndogs. And, lo, as it reached the middle of the glade, the dogs that\nfollowed the stag overtook it, and brought it down. Then looked he at\nthe color of the dogs, staying not to look at the stag; and of all the\nhounds that he had seen in the world he had never seen any that were\nlike unto these. For their hair was of a brilliant shining white, and\ntheir ears were red; and as the whiteness of their bodies shone, so\ndid the redness of their ears glisten. And he came towards the dogs,\nand drove away those that had brought down the stag, and set his own\ndogs upon it.\n\nAnd as he was setting on his dogs he saw a horseman coming towards him\nupon a large light-gray steed, with a hunting-horn round his neck, and\nclad in garments of gray woollen, in the fashion of a hunting-garb. And\nthe horseman drew near, and spake unto him thus: \"Chieftain,\" said he,\n\"I know who thou art, and I greet thee not.\"\n\n\"Peradventure,\" said Pwyll, \"thou art of such dignity that thou\nshouldest not do so.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" answered he, \"it is not my dignity that prevents me.\"\n\n\"What is it, then, O chieftain?\" asked he.\n\n\"By Heaven, it is by reason of thine own ignorance and want of\ncourtesy.\"\n\n\"What discourtesy, chieftain, hast thou seen in me?\"\n\n\"Greater discourtesy saw I never in man,\" said he, \"than to drive away\nthe dogs that were killing the stag and to set upon it thine own. This\nwas discourteous, and though I may not be revenged upon thee, yet I\ndeclare to Heaven that I will do thee more dishonor than the value of\nan hundred stags.\"\n\n\"O chieftain!\" he replied, \"if I have done ill, I will redeem thy\nfriendship.\"\n\n\"How wilt thou redeem it?\"\n\n\"According as thy dignity may be. But I know not who thou art.\"\n\n\"A crowned king am I in the land whence I come.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"may the day prosper with thee! And from what land\ncomest thou?\"\n\n\"From Annwvyn,\" answered he. \"Arawn, a king of Annwvyn, am I.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"how may I gain thy friendship?\"\n\n\"After this manner mayest thou,\" he said. \"There is a man whose\ndominions are opposite to mine, who is ever warring against me, and he\nis Havgan, a king of Annwvyn, and by ridding me of this oppression,\nwhich thou canst easily do, shalt thou gain my friendship.\"\n\n\"Gladly will I do this,\" said he. \"Show me how I may.\"\n\n\"I will show thee. Behold thus it is thou mayest: I will make firm\nfriendship with thee; and this will I do. I will send thee to Annwvyn\nin my stead, and I will put my form and semblance upon thee, so that\nnot a page of the chamber, nor an officer, nor any other man that has\nalways followed me, shall know that it is not I. And this shall be\nfor the space of a year from to-morrow, and then we will meet in this\nplace.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said he; \"but when I shall have been there for the space of a\nyear, by what means shall I discover him of whom thou speakest?\"\n\n\"One year from this night,\" he answered, \"is the time fixed between him\nand me that we should meet at the Ford. Be thou there in my likeness,\nand with one stroke that thou givest him, he shall no longer live. And\nif he ask thee to give him another, give it not, how much soever he may\nentreat thee; for when I did so, he fought with me next day as well as\never before.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Pwyll, \"what shall I do concerning my kingdom?\"\n\nSaid Arawn, \"I will cause that no one in all thy dominions, neither man\nnor woman, shall know that I am not thou, and I will go there in thy\nstead.\"\n\n\"Gladly then,\" said Pwyll, \"will I set forward.\"\n\n\"Clear shall be thy path, and nothing shall detain thee, until thou\ncome into my dominions, and I myself will be thy guide.\"\n\nSo he conducted him until he came in sight of the palace and its\ndwellings. \"Behold,\" said he, \"the court and the kingdom in thy power.\nEnter the court: there is no one there who will know thee, and when\nthou seest what service is done there, thou wilt know the customs of\nthe court.\"\n\nSo he went forward to the court, and when he came there he beheld\nsleeping-rooms, and halls, and chambers, and the most beautiful\nbuildings ever seen. And he went into the hall to disarray, and there\ncame youths and pages and disarrayed him, and all as they entered\nsaluted him. And two knights came and drew his hunting-dress from about\nhim, and clothed him in a vesture of silk and gold. And the hall was\nprepared, and behold he saw the household and the host enter in, and\nthe host was the most comely and the best equipped that he had ever\nseen. And with them came in likewise the queen, who was the fairest\nwoman that he had ever yet beheld. And she had on a yellow robe of\nshining satin; and they washed and went to the table, and sat, the\nqueen upon one side of him, and one who seemed to be an earl on the\nother side.\n\nAnd he began to speak with the queen, and he thought from her speech\nthat she was the seemliest and most noble lady of converse and of cheer\nthat ever was. And they partook of meat and drink, with songs and with\nfeasting; and of all the courts upon the earth, behold this was the\nbest supplied with food and drink, and vessels of gold and royal jewels.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd the year he spent in hunting, and minstrelsy, and feasting, and\ndiversions, and discourse with his companions, until the night that was\nfixed for the conflict. And when that night came, it was remembered\neven by those who lived in the furthest part of his dominions, and he\nwent to the meeting, and the nobles of the kingdom with him. And when\nhe came to the Ford, a knight arose, and spake thus: \"Lords,\" said he,\n\"listen well. It is between two kings that this meeting is, and between\nthem only. Each claimeth of the other his land and territory, and do\nall of you stand aside, and leave the fight to be between them.\"\n\nThereupon the two kings approached each other in the middle of the\nFord, and encountered, and at the first thrust the man who was in the\nstead of Arawn struck Havgan on the centre of the boss of his shield,\nso that it was cloven in twain, and his armor was broken; and Havgan\nhimself was borne to the ground an arm's and a spear's length over the\ncrupper of his horse, and he received a deadly blow.\n\n\"O chieftain,\" said Havgan, \"what right hast thou to cause my death?\nI was not injuring thee in any thing, and I know not wherefore thou\nwouldest slay me. But, for the love of Heaven, since thou hast begun to\nslay me, complete thy work.\"\n\n\"Ah, chieftain,\" he replied, \"I may yet repent doing that unto thee:\nslay thee who may, I will not do so.\"\n\n\"My trusty lords,\" said Havgan, \"bear me hence. My death has come. I\nshall be no more able to uphold you.\"\n\n\"My nobles,\" also said he who was in the semblance of Arawn, \"take\ncounsel, and know who ought to be my subjects.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said the nobles, \"all should be; for there is no king over the\nwhole of Annwvyn but thee.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied, \"it is right that he who comes humbly should be\nreceived graciously; but he that doth not come with obedience shall be\ncompelled by the force of swords.\" And thereupon he received the homage\nof the men, and he began to conquer the country; and the next day by\nnoon the two kingdoms were in his power. And thereupon he went to keep\nhis tryst, and came to Glyn Cuch.\n\nAnd when he came there, the king of Annwvyn was there to meet him, and\neach of them was rejoiced to see the other.\n\n\"Verily,\" said Arawn, \"may Heaven reward thee for thy friendship\ntowards me! I have heard of it. When thou comest thyself to thy\ndominions,\" said he, \"thou wilt see that which I have done for thee.\"\n\n\"Whatever thou hast done for me, may Heaven repay it thee.\"\n\nThen Arawn gave to Pwyll, Prince of Dyved, his proper form and\nsemblance, and he himself took his own. And Arawn set forth towards the\ncourt of Annwvyn; and he was rejoiced when he beheld his hosts and his\nhousehold, whom he had not seen so long; but they had not known of his\nabsence, and wondered no more at his coming than usual. And that day\nwas spent in joy and merriment; and he sat and conversed with his wife\nand his nobles. And when it was time for them rather to sleep than to\ncarouse, they went to rest.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPwyll, Prince of Dyved, came likewise to his country and dominions,\nand began to inquire of the nobles of the land, how his rule had been\nduring the past year, compared with what it had been before.\n\n\"Lord,\" said they, \"thy wisdom was never so great, and thou wast never\nso kind or so free in bestowing thy gifts; and thy justice was never\nmore worthily seen than in this year.\"\n\n\"By Heaven,\" said he, \"for all the good you have enjoyed you should\nthank him who hath been with you; for behold, thus hath this matter\nbeen.\" And thereupon Pwyll related the whole unto them. \"Verily, lord,\"\nsaid they, \"render thanks unto Heaven that thou hast such a fellowship,\nand withhold not from us the rule which we have enjoyed for this year\npast.\"\n\n\"I take Heaven to witness that I will not withhold it,\" answered Pwyll.\n\nAnd thenceforth they made strong the friendship that was between them,\nand each sent unto the other horses and greyhounds and hawks, and all\nsuch jewels as they thought would be pleasing to each other. And by\nreason of his having dwelt that year in Annwvyn, and having ruled there\nso prosperously, and united the two kingdoms in one day by his valor\nand prowess, he lost the name of Pwyll, Prince of Dyved, and was called\nPwyll, chief of Annwvyn, from that time forward.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOnce upon a time Pwyll was at Narberth, his chief palace, where a feast\nhad been prepared for him, and with him was a great host of men. And\nafter the first meal, Pwyll arose to walk, and he went to the top of a\nmound that was above the palace, and was called Gorsedd Arberth.\n\n\"Lord,\" said one of the court, \"it is peculiar to the mound that\nwhosoever sits upon it cannot go thence without either receiving wounds\nor blows, or else seeing a wonder.\"\n\n\"I fear not to receive wounds and blows in the midst of such a host as\nthis; but as to the wonder, gladly would I see it. I will go therefore\nand sit upon the mound.\"\n\nAnd upon the mound he sat. And while he sat there, they saw a lady, on\na pure white horse of large size, with a garment of shining gold around\nher, coming along the highway that led from the mound; and the horse\nseemed to move at a slow and even pace, and to be coming up towards the\nmound.\n\n\"My men,\" said Pwyll, \"is there any among you who knows yonder lady?\"\n\n\"There is not, lord,\" said they.\n\n\"Go one of you and meet her, that we may know who she is.\"\n\nAnd one of them arose; and as he came upon the road to meet her she\npassed by, and he followed as fast as he could, being on foot; and the\ngreater was his speed, the farther was she from him. And when he saw\nthat it profited him nothing to follow her, he returned to Pwyll, and\nsaid unto him, \"Lord, it is idle for any one in the world to follow her\non foot.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Pwyll, \"go unto the palace, and take the fleetest horse\nthat thou seest, and go after her.\"\n\nAnd he took a horse and went forward. And he came to an open level\nplain, and put spurs to his horse; and the more he urged his horse,\nthe farther was she from him. Yet she held the same pace as at first.\nAnd his horse began to fail; and when his horse's feet failed him, he\nreturned to the place where Pwyll was.\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"it will avail nothing for any one to follow yonder\nlady. I know of no horse in these realms swifter than this, and it\navailed me not to pursue her.\"\n\n\"Of a truth,\" said Pwyll, \"there must be some illusion here. Let us go\ntowards the palace.\" So to the palace they went, and they spent that\nday. And the next day they arose, and that also they spent until it was\ntime to go to meat. And after the first meal, \"Verily,\" said Pwyll, \"we\nwill go, the same party as yesterday, to the top of the mound. And do\nthou,\" said he to one of his young men, \"take the swiftest horse that\nthou knowest in the field.\" And thus did the young man. And they went\ntowards the mound, taking the horse with them. And as they were sitting\ndown they beheld the lady on the same horse, and in the same apparel,\ncoming along the same road. \"Behold,\" said Pwyll, \"here is the lady of\nyesterday. Make ready, youth, to learn who she is.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said he, \"that will I gladly do.\" And thereupon the lady\ncame opposite to them. So the youth mounted his horse; and before he\nhad settled himself in his saddle, she passed by, and there was a clear\nspace between them. But her speed was no greater than it had been the\nday before. Then he put his horse into an amble, and thought, that,\nnotwithstanding the gentle pace at which his horse went, he should soon\novertake her. But this availed him not: so he gave his horse the reins.\nAnd still he came no nearer to her than when he went at a foot's pace.\nAnd the more he urged his horse, the farther was she from him. Yet she\nrode not faster than before. When he saw that it availed not to follow\nher, he returned to the place where Pwyll was. \"Lord,\" said he, \"the\nhorse can no more than thou hast seen.\"\n\n\"I see indeed that it avails not that any one should follow her. And by\nHeaven,\" said he, \"she must needs have an errand to some one in this\nplain, if her haste would allow her to declare it. Let us go back to\nthe palace.\" And to the palace they went, and they spent that night in\nsongs and feasting, as it pleased them.\n\nAnd the next day they amused themselves until it was time to go to\nmeat. And when meat was ended, Pwyll said, \"Where are the hosts that\nwent yesterday and the day before to the top of the mound?\"\n\n\"Behold, lord, we are here,\" said they.\n\n\"Let us go,\" said he, \"to the mound, to sit there. And do thou,\" said\nhe to the page who tended his horse, \"saddle my horse well, and hasten\nwith him to the road, and bring also my spurs with thee.\" And the youth\ndid thus. And they went and sat upon the mound. And ere they had been\nthere but a short time, they beheld the lady coming by the same road,\nand in the same manner, and at the same pace. \"Young man,\" said Pwyll,\n\"I see the lady coming: give me my horse.\" And no sooner had he mounted\nhis horse than she passed him. And he turned after her, and followed\nher. And he let his horse go bounding playfully, and thought that at\nthe second step or the third he should come up with her. But he came\nno nearer to her than at first. Then he urged his horse to his utmost\nspeed, yet he found that it availed nothing to follow her. Then said\nPwyll, \"O maiden, for the sake of him whom thou best lovest, stay for\nme.\"\n\n\"I will stay gladly,\" said she, \"and it were better for thy horse hadst\nthou asked it long since.\" So the maiden stopped, and she threw back\nthat part of her head-dress which covered her face. And she fixed her\neyes upon him, and began to talk with him.\n\n\"Lady,\" asked he, \"whence comest thou, and whereunto dost thou journey?\"\n\n\"I journey on mine own errand,\" said she, \"and right glad am I to see\nthee.\"\n\n\"My greeting be unto thee,\" said he. Then he thought that the beauty\nof all the maidens, and all the ladies that he had ever seen, was as\nnothing compared to her beauty. \"Lady,\" he said, \"wilt thou tell me\naught concerning thy purpose?\"\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said she. \"My chief quest was to seek thee.\"\n\n\"Behold,\" said Pwyll, \"this is to me the most pleasing quest on which\nthou couldst have come. And wilt thou tell me who thou art?\"\n\n\"I will tell thee, lord,\" said she. \"I am Rhiannon, the daughter of\nHeveydd H\u00ean, and they sought to give me to a husband against my will.\nBut no husband would I have, and that because of my love for thee,\nneither will I yet have one unless thou reject me. And hither have I\ncome to hear thy answer.\"\n\n\"By Heaven,\" said Pwyll, \"behold this is my answer. If I might choose\namong all the ladies and damsels in the world, thee would I choose.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said she, \"if thou art thus minded, make a pledge to meet me\nere I am given to another.\"\n\n\"The sooner I may do so, the more pleasing will it be unto me,\" said\nPwyll, \"and wheresoever thou wilt, there will I meet with thee.\"\n\n\"I will that thou meet me this day twelvemonth, at the palace of\nHeveydd. And I will cause a feast to be prepared, so that it be ready\nagainst thou come.\"\n\n\"Gladly,\" said he, \"will I keep this tryst.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said she, \"remain in health, and be mindful that thou keep thy\npromise. And now will I go hence.\"\n\nSo they parted, and he went back to his hosts and to them of his\nhousehold. And whatsoever questions they asked him respecting the\ndamsel, he always turned the discourse upon other matters. And when\na year from that time was gone, he caused a hundred knights to equip\nthemselves, and to go with him to the palace of Heveydd H\u00ean. And he\ncame to the palace, and there was great joy concerning him, with much\nconcourse of people, and great rejoicing, and vast preparations for his\ncoming. And the whole court was placed under his orders.\n\nAnd the hall was garnished, and they went to meat, and thus did they\nsit: Heveydd H\u00ean was on one side of Pwyll, and Rhiannon on the other.\nAnd all the rest according to their rank. And they ate and feasted and\ntalked, one with another; and at the beginning of the carousal after\nthe meat, there entered a tall auburn-haired youth, of royal bearing,\nclothed in a garment of satin. And when he came into the hall he\nsaluted Pwyll and his companions.\n\n\"The greeting of Heaven be unto thee, my soul,\" said Pwyll. \"Come thou\nand sit down.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said he, \"a suitor am I; and I will do mine errand.\"\n\n\"Do so willingly,\" said Pwyll.\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"my errand is unto thee; and it is to crave a boon of\nthee that I come.\"\n\n\"What boon soever thou mayest ask of me, as far as I am able, thou\nshalt have.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Rhiannon, \"wherefore didst thou give that answer?\"\n\n\"Has he not given it before the presence of these nobles?\" asked the\nyouth.\n\n\"My soul,\" said Pwyll, \"what is the boon thou askest?\"\n\n\"The lady whom best I love is to be thy bride this night: I come to ask\nher of thee, with the feast and the banquet that are in this place.\"\n\nAnd Pwyll was silent because of the answer which he had given.\n\n\"Be silent as long as thou wilt,\" said Rhiannon. \"Never did man make\nworse use of his wits than thou hast done.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"I knew not who he was.\"\n\n\"Behold, this is the man to whom they would have given me against my\nwill,\" said she. \"And he is Gwawl the son of Clud, a man of great power\nand wealth; and because of the word thou hast spoken, bestow me upon\nhim, lest shame befall thee.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"I understand not thine answer. Never can I do as thou\nsayest.\"\n\n\"Bestow me upon him,\" said she, \"and I will cause that I shall never be\nhis.\"\n\n\"By what means will that be?\" asked Pwyll.\n\n\"In thy hand will I give thee a small bag,\" said she. \"See that thou\nkeep it well, and he will ask of thee the banquet and the feast, and\nthe preparations, which are not in thy power. Unto the hosts and the\nhousehold will I give the feast. And such will be thy answer respecting\nthis. And as concerns myself, I will engage to become his bride this\nnight twelvemonth. And at the end of the year be thou here,\" said she,\n\"and bring this bag with thee, and let thy hundred knights be in the\norchard up yonder. And when he is in the midst of joy and feasting,\ncome thou in by thyself, clad in ragged garments, and holding thy bag\nin thy hand, and ask nothing but a bagful of food: and I will cause\nthat if all the meat and liquor that are in these seven cantrevs were\nput into it, it would be no fuller than before. And after a great deal\nhas been put therein, he will ask thee whether thy bag will ever be\nfull. Say thou then that it never will, until a man of noble birth and\nof great wealth arise and press the food in the bag with both his feet,\nsaying, 'Enough has been put therein.' And I will cause him to go and\ntread down the food in the bag, and when he does so, turn thou the bag,\nso that he shall be up over his head in it, and then slip a knot upon\nthe thongs of the bag. Let there be also a good bugle-horn about thy\nneck, and as soon as thou hast bound him in the bag, wind thy horn, and\nlet it be a signal between thee and thy knights. And when they hear the\nsound of the horn, let them come down upon the palace.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Gwawl, \"it is meet that I have an answer to my request.\"\n\n\"As much of that thou hast asked as it is in my power to give, thou\nshalt have,\" replied Pwyll.\n\n\"My soul,\" said Rhiannon unto him, \"as for the feast and the banquet\nthat are here, I have bestowed them upon the men of Dyved, and the\nhousehold, and the warriors that are with us. These can I not suffer to\nbe given to any. In a year from to-night a banquet shall be prepared\nfor thee in this palace, that I may become thy bride.\"\n\nSo Gwawl went forth to his possessions, and Pwyll went also back to\nDyved. And they both spent that year until it was the time for the\nfeast at the palace of Heveydd H\u00ean. Then Gwawl the son of Clud set out\nto the feast that was prepared for him, and he came to the palace, and\nwas received there with rejoicing. Pwyll also, the chief of Annwvyn,\ncame to the orchard with his hundred knights, as Rhiannon had commanded\nhim, having the bag with him. And Pwyll was clad in coarse and ragged\ngarments, and wore large clumsy old shoes upon his feet. And when he\nknew that the carousal after the meat had begun, he went towards the\nhall, and when he came into the hall, he saluted Gwawl the son of Clud,\nand his company, both men and women.\n\n\"Heaven prosper thee!\" said Gwawl, \"and the greeting of Heaven be unto\nthee!\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"may Heaven reward thee! I have an errand unto thee.\"\n\n\"Welcome be thine errand, and, if thou ask of me that which is just,\nthou shalt have it gladly.\"\n\n\"It is fitting,\" answered he. \"I crave but from want; and the boon that\nI ask is to have this small bag that thou seest filled with meat.\"\n\n\"A request within reason is this,\" said he, \"and gladly shalt thou have\nit.--Bring him food.\"\n\nA great number of attendants arose, and began to fill the bag; but for\nall that they put into it, it was no fuller than at first.\n\n\"My soul,\" said Gwawl, \"will thy bag be ever full?\"\n\n\"It will not, I declare to Heaven,\" said he, \"for all that may be put\ninto it, unless one possessed of lands and domains and treasure shall\narise, and tread down with both his feet the food that is within the\nbag, and shall say, 'Enough has been put herein.'\"\n\nThen said Rhiannon unto Gwawl the son of Clud, \"Rise up quickly.\"\n\n\"I will willingly arise,\" said he. So he rose up, and put his two feet\ninto the bag. And Pwyll turned up the sides of the bag, so that Gwawl\nwas over his head in it. And he shut it up quickly, and slipped a knot\nupon the thongs, and blew his horn. And thereupon behold his household\ncame down upon the palace. And they seized all the host that had come\nwith Gwawl, and cast them into his own prison. And Pwyll threw off his\nrags, and his old shoes, and his tattered array. And as they came in,\nevery one of Pwyll's knights struck a blow upon the bag, and asked,\n\"What is here?\"\n\n\"A Badger,\" said they. And in this manner they played, each of them\nstriking the bag, either with his foot or with a staff. And thus played\nthey with the bag. Every one as he came in asked, \"What game are you\nplaying at thus?\"\n\n\"The game of Badger in the Bag,\" said they. And then was the game of\nBadger in the Bag first played.\n\n\"Lord,\" said the man in the bag, \"if thou wouldest but hear me, I merit\nnot to be slain in a bag.\"\n\nSaid Heveydd H\u00ean, \"Lord, he speaks truth. It were fitting that thou\nlisten to him; for he deserves not this.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Pwyll, \"I will do thy counsel concerning him.\"\n\n\"Behold, this is my counsel then,\" said Rhiannon. \"Thou art now in a\nposition in which it behoves thee to satisfy suitors and minstrels:\nlet him give unto them in thy stead, and take a pledge from him that he\nwill never seek to revenge that which has been done to him. And this\nwill be punishment enough.\"\n\n\"I will do this gladly,\" said the man in the bag.\n\n\"And gladly will I accept it,\" said Pwyll, \"since it is the counsel of\nHeveydd and Rhiannon.\"\n\n\"Such, then, is our counsel,\" answered they.\n\n\"I accept it,\" said Pwyll.\n\n\"Seek thyself sureties.\"\n\n\"We will be for him,\" said Heveydd, \"until his men be free to answer\nfor him.\" And upon this he was let out of the bag, and his liege-men\nwere liberated. \"Demand now of Gwawl his sureties,\" said Heveydd: \"we\nknow which should be taken for him.\" And Heveydd numbered the sureties.\n\nSaid Gwawl, \"Do thou thyself draw up the covenant.\"\n\n\"It will suffice me that it be as Rhiannon said,\" answered Pwyll. So\nunto that covenant were the sureties pledged.\n\n\"Verily, lord,\" said Gwawl, \"I am greatly hurt, and I have many\nbruises. I have need to be anointed: with thy leave I will go forth. I\nwill leave nobles in my stead to answer for me in all that thou shalt\nrequire.\"\n\n\"Willingly,\" said Pwyll, \"mayest thou do thus.\" So Gwawl went towards\nhis own possessions.\n\nAnd the hall was set in order for Pwyll and the men of his host, and\nfor them also of the palace, and they went to the tables and sat down.\nAnd as they had sat that time twelvemonth, so sat they that night. And\nthey ate, and feasted, and spent the night in mirth and tranquillity.\n\nAnd next morning, at the break of day, \"My lord,\" said Rhiannon, \"arise\nand begin to give thy gifts unto the minstrels. Refuse no one to-day\nthat may claim thy bounty.\"\n\n\"Thus shall it be, gladly,\" said Pwyll, \"both to-day and every day\nwhile the feast shall last.\" So Pwyll arose, and he caused silence to\nbe proclaimed, and desired all the suitors and the minstrels to show\nand to point out what gifts were to their wish and desire. And this\nbeing done, the feast went on, and he denied no one while it lasted.\nAnd when the feast was ended, Pwyll said unto Heveydd, \"My lord, with\nthy permission, I will set out for Dyved to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said Heveydd. \"May Heaven prosper thee! Fix also a time\nwhen Rhiannon may follow thee.\"\n\nSaid Pwyll, \"We will go hence together.\"\n\n\"Willest thou this, lord?\" said Heveydd.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Pwyll.\n\nAnd the next day they set forward towards Dyved, and journeyed to the\npalace of Narberth, where a feast was made ready for them. And there\ncame to them great numbers of the chief men and the most noble ladies\nof the land, and of these there was none to whom Rhiannon did not give\nsome rich gift, either a bracelet, or a ring, or a precious stone. And\nthey ruled the land prosperously both that year and the next.\n\n[And in the fourth year a son was born to them, and women were brought\nto watch the babe at night.] And the women slept, as did also Rhiannon.\nAnd when they awoke they looked where they had put the boy, and behold\nhe was not there. [And the women were frightened; and, having plotted\ntogether, they accused Rhiannon of having murdered her child before\ntheir eyes.]\n\n\"For pity's sake,\" said Rhiannon, \"the Lord God knows all things.\nCharge me not falsely. If you tell me this from fear, I assert before\nHeaven that I will defend you.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said they, \"we would not bring evil on ourselves for any one\nin the world.\"\n\n\"For pity's sake,\" said Rhiannon, \"you will receive no evil by telling\nthe truth.\" But for all her words, whether fair or harsh, she received\nbut the same answer from the women.\n\nAnd Pwyll the chief of Annwvyn arose, and his household and his hosts.\nAnd this occurrence could not be concealed; but the story went forth\nthroughout the land, and all the nobles heard it. Then the nobles came\nto Pwyll, and besought him to put away his wife because of the great\ncrime which she had done. But Pwyll answered them that they had no\ncause wherefore they might ask him to put away his wife.\n\nSo Rhiannon sent for the teachers and the wise men, and as she\npreferred doing penance to contending with the women, she took upon\nher a penance. And the penance that was imposed upon her was that\nshe should remain in that palace of Narberth until the end of seven\nyears, and that she should sit every day near unto a horseblock that\nwas without the gate; and that she should relate the story to all\nwho should come there whom she might suppose not to know it already;\nand that she should offer the guests and strangers, if they would\npermit her, to carry them upon her back into the palace. But it rarely\nhappened that any would permit. And thus did she spend part of the year.\n\nNow at that time Teirnyon Twryv Vliant was lord of Gwent Is Coed, and\nhe was the best man in the world. And unto his house there belonged\na mare than which neither mare nor horse in the kingdom was more\nbeautiful. And on the night of every first of May she foaled, and no\none ever knew what became of the colt. And one night Teirnyon talked\nwith his wife: \"Wife,\" said he, \"it is very simple of us that our mare\nshould foal every year, and that we should have none of her colts.\"\n\n\"What can be done in the matter?\" said she.\n\n\"This is the night of the first of May,\" said he. \"The vengeance of\nHeaven be upon me, if I learn not what it is that takes away the\ncolts.\" So he armed himself, and began to watch that night. Teirnyon\nheard a great tumult, and after the tumult behold a claw came through\nthe window into the house, and it seized the colt by the mane. Then\nTeirnyon drew his sword, and struck off the arm at the elbow: so that\nportion of the arm, together with the colt, was in the house with him.\nAnd then did he hear a tumult and wailing both at once. And he opened\nthe door, and rushed out in the direction of the noise, and he could\nnot see the cause of the tumult because of the darkness of the night;\nbut he rushed after it and followed it. Then he remembered that he\nhad left the door open, and he returned. And at the door behold there\nwas an infant-boy in swaddling-clothes, wrapped around in a mantle of\nsatin. And he took up the boy, and behold he was very strong for the\nage that he was of.\n\nThen he shut the door, and went into the chamber where his wife was.\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"art thou sleeping?\"\n\n\"No, lord,\" said she: \"I was asleep, but as thou camest in I did awake.\"\n\n\"Behold, here is a boy for thee, if thou wilt,\" said he, \"since thou\nhast never had one.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said she, \"what adventure is this?\"\n\n\"It was thus,\" said Teirnyon. And he told her how it all befell.\n\n\"Verily, lord,\" said she, \"what sort of garments are there upon the\nboy?\"\n\n\"A mantle of satin,\" said he.\n\n\"He is then a boy of gentle lineage,\" she replied.\n\nAnd they caused the boy to be baptized, and the ceremony was performed\nthere. And the name which they gave unto him was Gwri Wallt Euryn,\nbecause what hair was upon his head was as yellow as gold. And they\nhad the boy nursed in the court until he was a year old. And before\nthe year was over he could walk stoutly; and he was larger than a boy\nof three years old, even one of great growth and size. And the boy was\nnursed the second year, and then he was as large as a child six years\nold. And before the end of the fourth year, he would bribe the grooms\nto allow him to take the horses to water.\n\n\"My lord,\" said his wife unto Teirnyon, \"where is the colt which thou\ndidst save on the night that thou didst find the boy?\"\n\n\"I have commanded the grooms of the horses,\" said he, \"that they take\ncare of him.\"\n\n\"Would it not be well, lord,\" said she, \"if thou wert to cause him to\nbe broken in, and given to the boy, seeing that on the same night that\nthou didst find the boy, the colt was foaled, and thou didst save him?\"\n\n\"I will not oppose thee in this matter,\" said Teirnyon. \"I will allow\nthee to give him the colt.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said she, \"may Heaven reward thee! I will give it him.\" So the\nhorse was given to the boy. Then she went to the grooms and those who\ntended the horses, and commanded them to be careful of the horse, so\nthat he might be broken in by the time that the boy could ride him.\n\nAnd while these things were going forward, they heard tidings of\nRhiannon and her punishment. And Teirnyon Twryv Vliant, by reason\nof the pity that he felt on hearing this story of Rhiannon and her\npunishment, inquired closely concerning it, until he had heard from\nmany of those who came to his court. Then did Teirnyon, often lamenting\nthe sad history, ponder within himself; and he looked steadfastly\non the boy, and as he looked upon him, it seemed to him that he had\nnever beheld so great a likeness between father and son as between the\nboy and Pwyll the chief of Annwvyn. Now the semblance of Pwyll was\nwell known to him, for he had of yore been one of his followers. And\nthereupon he became grieved for the wrong that he did in keeping with\nhim a boy whom he knew to be the son of another man. And the first time\nthat he was alone with his wife he told her that it was not right that\nthey should keep the boy with them, and suffer so excellent a lady as\nRhiannon to be punished so greatly on his account, whereas the boy was\nthe son of Pwyll the chief of Annwvyn. And Teirnyon's wife agreed with\nhim that they should send the boy to Pwyll. \"And three things, lord,\"\nsaid she, \"shall we gain thereby,--thanks and gifts for releasing\nRhiannon from her punishment, and thanks from Pwyll for nursing his\nson and restoring him unto him; and, thirdly, if the boy is of gentle\nnature, he will be our foster-son, and he will do for us all the good\nin his power.\" So it was settled according to this counsel.\n\nAnd no later than the next day was Teirnyon equipped and two other\nknights with him. And the boy, as a fourth in their company, went with\nthem upon the horse which Teirnyon had given him. And they journeyed\ntowards Narberth, and it was not long before they reached that place.\nAnd as they drew near to the palace, they beheld Rhiannon sitting\nbeside the horseblock. And when they were opposite to her, \"Chieftain,\"\nsaid she, \"go not farther thus: I will bear every one of you into the\npalace. And this is my penance for slaying my own son, and devouring\nhim.\"\n\n\"Oh, fair lady,\" said Teirnyon, \"think not that I will be one to be\ncarried upon thy back.\"\n\n\"Neither will I,\" said the boy.\n\n\"Truly, my soul,\" said Teirnyon, \"we will not go.\" So they went forward\nto the palace, and there was great joy at their coming. And at the\npalace a feast was prepared, because Pwyll was come back from the\nconfines of Dyved. And they went into the hall and washed, and Pwyll\nrejoiced to see Teirnyon. And in this order they sat: Teirnyon between\nPwyll and Rhiannon, and Teirnyon's two companions on the other side\nof Pwyll, with the boy between them. And after meat they began to\ncarouse and to discourse. And Teirnyon's discourse was concerning the\nadventure of the mare and the boy, and how he and his wife had nursed\nand reared the child as their own. \"And behold here is thy son, lady,\"\nsaid Teirnyon. \"And whosoever told that lie concerning thee has done\nwrong. And when I heard of thy sorrow I was troubled and grieved. And\nI believe that there is none of this host who will not perceive that\nthe boy is the son of Pwyll,\" said Teirnyon.\n\n\"There is none,\" said they all, \"who is not certain thereof.\"\n\n\"I declare to Heaven,\" said Rhiannon, \"that, if this be true, there is\nindeed an end to my trouble.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said Pendaran Dyved, \"well hast thou named thy son Pryderi, and\nwell becomes him the name of Pryderi son of Pwyll chief of Annwvyn.\"\n\n\"Look you,\" said Rhiannon: \"will not his own name become him better?\"\n\n\"What name has he?\" asked Pendaran Dyved.\n\n\"Gwri Wallt Euryn is the name that we gave him.\"\n\n\"Pryderi,\" said Pendaran, \"shall his name be.\"\n\n\"It were more proper,\" said Pwyll, \"that the boy should take his name\nfrom the word his mother spoke when she received the joyful tidings of\nhim.\" And thus was it arranged.\n\n\"Teirnyon,\" said Pwyll, \"Heaven reward thee that thou hast reared the\nboy up to this time, and, being of gentle lineage, it were fitting that\nhe repay thee for it.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Teirnyon, \"it was my wife who nursed him, and there is\nno one in the world so afflicted as she at parting with him. It were\nwell that he should bear in mind what I and my wife have done for him.\"\n\n\"I call Heaven to witness,\" said Pwyll, \"that while I live I will\nsupport thee and thy possessions as long as I am able to preserve my\nown. And when he shall have power, he will more fitly maintain them\nthan I. And if this counsel be pleasing unto thee and to my nobles, it\nshall be, that, as thou hast reared him up to the present time, I will\ngive him to be brought up by Pendaran Dyved from henceforth. And you\nshall be companions, and shall both be foster-fathers unto him.\"\n\n\"This is good counsel,\" said they all. So the boy was given to Pendaran\nDyved, and the nobles of the land were sent with him. And Teirnyon\nTwryv Vliant and his companions set out for his country and his\npossessions, with love and gladness. And he went not without being\noffered the fairest jewels, and the fairest horses, and the choicest\ndogs; but he would take none of them.\n\nThereupon they all remained in their own dominions. And Pryderi the son\nof Pwyll the chief of Annwvyn was brought up carefully, as was fit, so\nthat he became the fairest youth, and the most comely, and the best\nskilled in all good games, of any in the kingdom. And thus passed years\nand years until the end of Pwyll the chief of Annwvyn's life came, and\nhe died.\n\nAnd Pryderi ruled the seven Cantrevs of Dyved prosperously; and he was\nbeloved by his people and by all around him. And at length he added\nunto them the three Cantrevs of Ystrad Tywi and the four Cantrevs of\nCardigan; and these were called the Seven Cantrevs of Seissyllwch. And\nwhen he made this addition, Pryderi the son of Pwyll the chief of\nAnnwyvn desired to take a wife. And the wife he chose was Kicva, the\ndaughter of Gwynn Gohoyw, the son of Gloyw Wlallt Lydan, the son of\nPrince Casnar, one of the nobles of this island.\n\n\n\n\n                   THE STORY OF LLUDD AND LLEVELYS.\n\n\nBeli the Great, the son of Manogan, had three sons, Lludd and\nCaswallawn and Nynyaw, and according to the story he had a fourth son\ncalled Llevelys. And after the death of Beli, the kingdom of the Island\nof Britain fell into the hands of Lludd, his eldest son; and Lludd\nruled prosperously, and rebuilt the walls of London, and encompassed it\nabout with numberless towers. And after that he bade the citizens build\nhouses therein, such as no houses in the kingdoms could equal. And\nmoreover he was a mighty warrior, and generous and liberal in giving\nmeat and drink to all that sought them. And though he had many castles\nand cities, this one loved he more than any. And he dwelt therein most\npart of the year, and therefore was it called Caer Lludd, and at last\nCaer London. And after the stranger-race came there, it was called\nLondon, or Lwndrys.\n\nLludd loved Llevelys best of all his brothers, because he was a wise\nand discreet man. Having heard that the King of France had died,\nleaving no heir except a daughter, and that he had left all his\npossessions in her hands, he came to Lludd his brother to beseech his\ncounsel and aid; and that not so much for his own welfare as to seek\nto add to the glory and honor and dignity of his kindred, if he might\ngo to France to woo the maiden for his wife. And forthwith his brother\nconferred with him, and this counsel was pleasing unto him.\n\nSo he prepared ships, and filled them with armed knights, and set forth\ntowards France. And as soon as they had landed, they sent messengers\nto show the nobles of France the cause of the embassy. And by the\njoint counsel of the nobles of France and of the princes, the maiden\nwas given to Llevelys, and the crown of the kingdom with her. And\nthenceforth he ruled the land discreetly and wisely and happily as long\nas his life lasted.\n\nAfter a space of time had passed, three plagues fell on the Island of\nBritain, such as none in the islands had ever seen the like of. The\nfirst was a certain race that came, and was called the Coranians; and\nso great was their knowledge, that there was no discourse upon the\nface of the island, however low it might be spoken, but what, if the\nwind met it, it was known to them. And through this they could not be\ninjured.\n\nThe second plague was a shriek which came on every May-eve over every\nhearth in the Island of Britain. And this went through people's hearts,\nand so scared them, that the men lost their hue and their strength, and\nthe young men and the maidens lost their senses, and all the animals\nand trees, and the earth and the waters, were left barren.\n\nThe third plague was that, however much of provisions and food might\nbe prepared in the king's courts, were there even so much as a year's\nprovision of meat and drink, none of it could ever be found, except\nwhat was consumed in the first night. And two of these plagues no one\never knew their cause, therefore was there better hope of being freed\nfrom the first than from the second and third.\n\nAnd thereupon King Lludd felt great sorrow and care, because that he\nknew not how he might be freed from these plagues. And he called to\nhim all the nobles of his kingdom, and asked counsel of them what they\nshould do against these afflictions. And by the common counsel of\nthe nobles, Lludd the son of Beli went to Llevelys his brother, King\nof France, for he was a man great of counsel and wisdom, to seek his\nadvice.\n\nAnd they made ready a fleet, and that in secret and in silence, lest\nthat race should know the cause of their errand, or any besides the\nking and his counsellors. And when they were made ready, they went into\ntheir ships, Lludd and those whom he chose with him. And they began to\ncleave the seas towards France.\n\nAnd when these tidings came to Llevelys, seeing that he knew not the\ncause of his brother's ships he came on the other side to meet him, and\nwith him was a fleet vast of size. And when Lludd saw this, he left all\nthe ships out upon the sea except one only; and in that one he came to\nmeet his brother, and he likewise with a single ship came to meet him.\nAnd when they were come together, each put his arms about the other's\nneck, and they welcomed each other with brotherly love.\n\nAfter that Lludd had shown his brother the cause of his errand,\nLlevelys said that he himself knew the cause of the coming to those\nlands. And they took counsel together to discourse on the matter\notherwise than thus, in order that the wind might not catch their\nwords, nor the Coranians know what they might say. Then Llevelys caused\na long horn to be made of brass, and through this horn they discoursed.\nBut whatsoever words they spoke through this horn, one to the other,\nneither of them could hear any other but harsh and hostile words. And\nwhen Llevelys saw this, and that there was a demon thwarting them,\nand disturbing through this horn, he caused wine to be put therein to\nwash it. And through the virtue of the wine the demon was driven out\nof the horn. And when their discourse was unobstructed, Llevelys told\nhis brother that he would give him some insects, whereof he should keep\nsome to breed, lest by chance the like affliction might come a second\ntime. And other of these insects he should take and bruise in water.\nAnd he assured him that it would have power to destroy the race of the\nCoranians. That is to say, that when he came home to his kingdom, he\nshould call together all the people, both of his own race and of the\nrace of the Coranians, for a conference, as though with the intent of\nmaking peace between them, and that when they were all together he\nshould take this charmed water, and cast it over all alike. And he\nassured him that the water would poison the race of the Coranians, but\nthat it would not slay or harm those of his own race.\n\n\"And the second plague,\" said he, \"that is in thy dominion, behold it\nis a dragon. And another dragon of a foreign race is fighting with it,\nand striving to overcome it. And therefore does your dragon make a\nfearful outcry. And on this wise mayest thou come to know this. After\nthou hast returned home, cause the island to be measured in its length\nand breadth; and in the place where thou dost find the exact central\npoint, there cause a pit to be dug, and cause a caldron full of the\nbest mead that can be made to be put in the pit, with a covering of\nsatin over the face of the caldron. And then in thine own person do\nthou remain there watching, and thou wilt see the dragons fighting in\nthe form of terrific animals. And at length they will take the form of\ndragons in the air. And last of all, after wearying themselves with\nfierce and furious fighting, they will fall, in the form of two pigs,\nupon the covering, and they will sink in, and the covering with them,\nand they will draw it down to the very bottom of the caldron. And they\nwill drink up the whole of the mead; and after that they will sleep.\nThereupon do thou immediately fold the covering around them, and bury\nthem in a kistvaen in the strongest place thou hast in thy dominions,\nand hide them in the earth. And as long as they shall bide in that\nstrong place, no plague shall come to the Island of Britain from\nelsewhere.\n\n[Illustration: The Battle of the Dragons.]\n\n\"The cause of the third plague,\" said he, \"is a mighty man of\nmagic, who takes thy meat and thy drink and thy store. And he,\nthrough illusions and charms, causes every one to sleep. Therefore\nit is needful for thee in thy own person to watch thy food and thy\nprovisions. And lest he should overcome thee with sleep, be there a\ncaldron of cold water by thy side, and when thou art oppressed with\nsleep, plunge into the caldron.\"\n\nThen Lludd returned back unto his land. And immediately he summoned to\nhim the whole of his own race and of the Coranians. And, as Llevelys\nhad taught him, he bruised the insects in water, which he cast over\nthem all together, and forthwith it destroyed the whole tribe of the\nCoranians, without hurt to any of the Britons.\n\nAnd some time after this Lludd caused the island to be measured in\nits length and in its breadth. And in Oxford he found the central\npoint, and in that place he caused the earth to be dug, and in that\npit a caldron to be set full of the best mead that could be made, and\na covering of satin over the face of it. And he himself watched that\nnight. And while he was there, he beheld the dragons fighting. And when\nthey were weary they fell, and came down upon the top of the satin,\nand drew it with them to the bottom of the caldron. And when they had\ndrunk the mead they slept. And in their sleep Lludd folded the covering\naround them, and in the securest place he had in Snowdon he hid them\nin a kistvaen. Now after that, this spot was called Dinas Emreis, but\nbefore that, Dinas Ffaraon. And thus the fierce outcry ceased in his\ndominions.\n\nAnd when this was ended, King Lludd caused an exceeding great banquet\nto be prepared. And when it was ready, he placed a vessel of cold water\nby his side, and he in his own proper person watched it. And as he\nabode thus clad with arms, about the third watch of the night, lo, he\nheard many surpassing fascinations and various songs. And drowsiness\nurged him to sleep. Upon this, lest he should be hindered from his\npurpose, and be overcome by sleep, he went often into the water. And\nat last, behold a man of vast size, clad in strong, heavy armor, came\nin, bearing a hamper. And as he was wont, he put all the food and\nprovisions of meat and drink into the hamper, and proceeded to go with\nit forth. And nothing was ever more wonderful to Lludd than that the\nhamper should hold so much.\n\nAnd thereupon King Lludd went after him, and spoke unto him thus:\n\"Stop, stop,\" said he, \"though thou hast done many insults and much\nspoil erewhile, thou shalt not do so any more, unless thy skill in arms\nand thy prowess be greater than mine.\"\n\nThen he instantly put down the hamper on the floor, and awaited him.\nAnd a fierce encounter was between them, so that the glittering fire\nflew out from their arms. And at the last Lludd grappled with him, and\nfate bestowed the victory on Lludd. And he threw the plague to the\nearth. And after he had overcome him by strength and might he besought\nhis mercy.\n\n\"How can I grant thee mercy,\" said the king, \"after all the many\ninjuries and wrongs that thou hast done me?\"\n\n\"All the losses that ever I have caused thee,\" said he, \"I will make\nthee atonement for, equal to what I have taken. And I will never do the\nlike from this time forth. But thy faithful vassal will I be.\"\n\nAnd the king accepted this from him.\n\n\n\n\n                        THE ORIGIN OF THE OWL.\n\n        [ENTITLED IN THE ORIGINAL, \"MATH THE SON OF MATHONWY.\"]\n\n\nOnce upon a time Gwydion found a yellow-haired child in his chamber,\nwhich had been placed there by magic art. And Gwydion straightway flung\na velvet scarf over the child and hid it. Now the place where he hid\nit was the bottom of a chest at the foot of his bed.\n\n\"Verily,\" said Math the son of Mathonwy, concerning the fine\nyellow-haired boy, \"I will cause this one to be baptized; and Dylan is\nthe name I will give him.\"\n\nSo they had the boy baptized, and as they baptized him he plunged into\nthe sea. And immediately when he was in the sea, he took its nature,\nand swam as well as the best fish that was therein. And for that reason\nwas he called Dylan, the son of the Wave. Beneath him no wave ever\nbroke. And the blow whereby he came to his death was struck by his\nuncle Govannion. The third fatal blow was it called.\n\nAs Gwydion lay one morning on his bed awake, he heard a cry in the\nchest at his feet; and though it was not loud, it was such that he\ncould hear it. Then he arose in haste, and opened the chest; and when\nhe opened it, he beheld an infant-boy stretching out his arms from the\nfolds of the scarf, and casting it aside. And he took up the boy in\nhis arms, and carried him to a place where he knew there was a woman\nthat could nurse him. And he agreed with the woman that she should take\ncharge of the boy. And that year he was nursed.\n\nAnd at the end of the year he seemed by his size as though he were two\nyears old. And the second year he was a big child, and able to go to\nthe court by himself. And when he came to the court, Gwydion noticed\nhim, and the boy became familiar with him, and loved him better than\nany one else. Then was the boy reared at the court until he was four\nyears old, when he was as big as though he had been eight.\n\nAnd one day Gwydion walked forth, and the boy followed him; and he went\nto the Castle of Arianrod, having the boy with him. And when he came\ninto the court, Arianrod arose to meet him, and greeted him, and bade\nhim welcome.\n\n\"Heaven prosper thee,\" said he.\n\n\"What is the name of the boy?\" said she.\n\n\"Verily,\" he replied, \"he has not yet a name.\"\n\n\"Well,\" she said, \"I lay this destiny upon him, that he shall never\nhave a name until he receives one from me.\"\n\n\"Heaven bears me witness,\" answered he, \"that thou art a wicked woman.\nBut the boy shall have a name,[16] how displeasing soever it may be\nunto thee.\" And thereupon he went forth in wrath, and returned to Caer\nDathyl, and there he tarried that night.\n\n[Footnote 16: And the plot now becomes the artful contrivance by which\nGwydion brings about that Arianrod names the boy in spite of herself,\nwith other similar achievements.]\n\nAnd the next day he arose and took the boy with him, and went to\nwalk on the seashore between that place and Aber Menei. And there he\nsaw some sedges and seaweed, and he turned them into a boat. And out\nof dry sticks and sedges he made some Cordovan leather, and a great\ndeal thereof; and he colored it in such a manner that no one ever saw\nleather more beautiful than it. Then he made a sail to the boat, and he\nand the boy went in it to the port of the Castle of Arianrod. And he\nbegan forming shoes, and stitching them, until he was observed from the\ncastle. And when he knew that they of the castle were observing him, he\ndisguised his aspect, and put another semblance upon himself and upon\nthe boy, so that they might not be known.\n\n\"What men are those in yonder boat?\" said Arianrod.\n\n\"They are cordwainers,\" answered they.\n\n\"Go and see what kind of leather they have, and what kind of work they\ncan do.\"\n\nSo they came unto them. And when they came he was coloring some\nCordovan leather, and gilding it. And the messengers came and told her\nthis.\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"take the measure of my foot, and desire the\ncordwainer to make shoes for me.\"\n\nSo he made the shoes for her, yet not according to the measure, but\nlarger. The shoes then were brought unto her, and behold they were too\nlarge.\n\n\"These are too large,\" said she; \"but he shall receive their value. Let\nhim also make some that are smaller than they.\"\n\nThen he made her others that were much smaller than her foot, and sent\nthem unto her.\n\n\"Tell him that these will not go on my feet,\" said she. And they told\nhim this.\n\n\"Verily,\" said he, \"I will not make her any shoes unless I see her\nfoot.\" And this was told unto her.\n\n\"Truly,\" she answered, \"I will go unto him.\"\n\nSo she went down to the boat, and when she came there he was shaping\nshoes, and the boy stitching them.\n\n\"Ah, lady,\" said he, \"good day to thee.\"\n\n\"Heaven prosper thee,\" said she. \"I marvel that thou canst not manage\nto make shoes according to measure.\"\n\n\"I could not,\" he replied; \"but now I shall be able.\"\n\nThereupon behold a wren stood upon the deck of the boat; and the boy\nshot at it, and hit it in the leg between the sinew and the bone. Then\nshe smiled. \"Verily,\" said she, \"with a steady hand did the lion aim at\nit.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee not; but now has he got a name. And a good enough\nname it is. Llew Llaw Gyffes be he called henceforth.\"\n\nThen the work disappeared in seaweed and sedges, and he went on with it\nno further. And for that reason was he called the third Gold-shoemaker.\n\n\"Of a truth,\" said she, \"thou wilt not thrive the better for doing evil\nunto me.\"\n\n\"I have done thee no evil yet,\" said he. Then he restored the boy to\nhis own form.\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"I will lay a destiny upon this boy, that he shall\nnever have arms and armor until I invest him with them.\"\n\n\"By Heaven,\" said he, \"let thy malice be what it may, he shall have\narms.\"\n\nThen they went towards Dinas Dinllev, and there he brought up Llew Llaw\nGyffes until he could manage any horse, and he was perfect in features\nand strength and stature. And then Gwydion saw that he languished\nthrough the want of horses and arms. And he called him unto him. \"Ah,\nyouth,\" said he, \"we will go to-morrow on an errand together. Be\ntherefore more cheerful than thou art.\"\n\n\"That I will,\" said the youth.\n\nNext morning, at the dawn of day, they arose. And they took way along\nthe seacoast, up towards Bryn Aryen. And at the top of Cevn Clydno\nthey equipped themselves with horses, and went towards the Castle of\nArianrod. And they changed their form, and pricked towards the gate in\nthe semblance of two youths; but the aspect of Gwydion was more staid\nthan that of the other. \"Porter,\" said he, \"go thou in and say that\nthere are here bards from Glamorgan.\"\n\nAnd the porter went in.\n\n\"The welcome of Heaven be unto them. Let them in,\" said Arianrod.\n\nWith great joy were they greeted. And the hall was arranged, and they\nwent to meat. When meat was ended, Arianrod discoursed with Gwydion\nof tales and stories. Now Gwydion was an excellent teller of tales.\nAnd when it was time to leave off feasting, a chamber was prepared for\nthem, and they went to rest.\n\nIn the early twilight Gwydion arose, and he called unto him his magic\nand his power. And by the time that the day dawned, there resounded\nthrough the land uproar, and trumpets and shouts. When it was now\nday, they heard a knocking at the door of the chamber, and therewith\nArianrod asking that it might be opened. Up rose the youth and opened\nunto her, and she entered, and a maiden with her. \"Ah, good men,\" she\nsaid, \"in evil plight are we.\"\n\n\"Yes, truly,\" said Gwydion, \"we have heard trumpets, and shouts. What\nthinkest thou that they may mean?\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said she, \"we cannot see the color of the ocean by reason of\nall the ships side by side. And they are making for the land with all\nthe speed they can. And what can we do?\" said she.\n\n\"Lady,\" said Gwydion, \"there is none other counsel than to close the\ncastle upon us, and to defend it as best we may.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said she, \"may Heaven reward you. And do you defend it. And\nhere may you have plenty of arms.\"\n\nAnd thereupon went she forth for the arms, and behold she returned, and\ntwo maidens, and suits of armor for two men, with her.\n\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"do thou accoutre this stripling, and I will arm\nmyself, with the help of thy maidens. Lo, I hear the tumult of the men\napproaching.\"\n\n\"I will do so gladly.\" So she armed him fully, and that right\ncheerfully.\n\n\"Hast thou finished arming the youth?\" said he.\n\n\"I have finished,\" she answered.\n\n\"I likewise have finished,\" said Gwydion. \"Let us now take off our\narms: we have no need of them.\"\n\n\"Wherefore?\" said she. \"Here is the army around the house.\"\n\n\"Oh, lady, there is here no army.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" cried she. \"Whence then was this tumult?\"\n\n\"The tumult was but to break thy prophecy, and to obtain arms for thy\nson. And now has he got arms without any thanks unto thee.\"\n\n\"By Heaven,\" said Arianrod, \"thou art a wicked man. Many a youth might\nhave lost his life through the uproar thou hast caused in this Cantrev\nto-day. Now will I lay a destiny upon this youth,\" she said, \"that he\nshall never have a wife of the race that now inhabits this earth.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said he, \"thou wast ever a malicious woman, and no one ought\nto support thee. A wife shall he have notwithstanding.\"\n\nThey went thereupon unto Math the son of Mathonwy, and complained unto\nhim most bitterly of Arianrod, Gwydion showed him also how he had\nprocured arms for the youth. \"Well,\" said Math, \"we will seek, I and\nthou, by charms and illusion, to form a wife for him out of flowers. He\nhas now come to man's stature, and he is the comeliest youth that was\never beheld.\"\n\nSo they took the blossoms of the oak, and the blossoms of the broom,\nand the blossoms of the meadow-sweet, and produced from them a maiden,\nthe fairest and most graceful that man ever saw. And they baptized her,\nand gave her the name of Blodeuwedd.\n\nAfter she had become his bride, and they had feasted, said Gwydion, \"It\nis not easy for a man to maintain himself without possessions.\"\n\n\"Of a truth,\" said Math, \"I will give the young man the best Cantrev to\nhold.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"what Cantrev is that?\"\n\n\"The Cantrev of Dinodig,\" he answered.\n\nNow it is called at this day Eivionydd and Ardudwy. And the place in\nthe Cantrev where he dwelt was a palace of his in a spot called Mur y\nCastell, on the confines of Ardudwy. There dwelt he and reigned, and\nboth he and his sway were beloved by all.\n\nOne day he went forth to Caer Dathyl to visit Math the son of Mathonwy.\nAnd on the day that he set out for Caer Dathyl, Blodeuwedd walked in\nthe court. And she heard the sound of a horn. And after the sound of\nthe horn, behold a tired stag went by, with dogs and huntsmen following\nit. And after the dogs and the huntsmen there came a crowd of men on\nfoot. \"Send a youth,\" said she, \"to ask who yonder host may be.\"\n\nSo a youth went and inquired who they were. \"Gronw Pebyr is this, the\nlord of Penllynn,\" said they. And thus the youth told her.\n\nGronw Pebyr pursued the stag, and by the River Cynvael he overtook the\nstag, and killed it. And what with flaying the stag, and baiting his\ndogs, he was there until the night began to close in upon him. And as\nthe day departed and the night drew near, he came to the gate of the\ncourt. \"Verily,\" said Blodeuwedd, \"the chieftain will speak ill of us\nif we let him at this hour depart to another land without inviting him\nin.\"\n\n\"Yes, truly, lady,\" said they, \"it will be most fitting to invite him.\"\n\nThen went messengers to meet him, and bid him in. And he accepted her\nbidding gladly, and came to the court; and Blodeuwedd went to meet him\nand greeted him, and bade him welcome. \"Lady,\" said he, \"Heaven repay\nthee thy kindness.\"\n\n[Now Blodeuwedd, in spite of her descent from the flowers, was at heart\na wicked woman, and so she began to plot with Gronw Pebyr how they\nmight slay the valiant Llew Llaw Gyffes, and enjoy his possessions.\nThen Gronw said to her,] \"Converse with him fully, and find out by what\nmeans he may come to his death.\"\n\nThat night Llew Llaw Gyffes returned to his home. And the day they\nspent in discourse and minstrelsy and feasting. And at night they went\nto rest, and he spoke to Blodeuwedd once, and he spoke to her a second\ntime. But for all this he could not get from her one word. \"What\naileth thee?\" said he. \"Art thou well?\"\n\n\"I was thinking,\" said she, \"of that which thou didst never think of\nconcerning me; for I was sorrowful as to thy death, lest thou shouldst\ngo sooner than I.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thy care for me,\" said he. \"But until Heaven take me I\nshall not easily be slain.\"\n\n\"For the sake of heaven, and for mine, show me how thou mightest be\nslain. My memory in guarding is better than thine.\"\n\n\"I will tell thee gladly,\" said he. \"Not easily can I be slain, except\nby a wound. And the spear wherewith I am struck must be a year in\nthe forming. And nothing must be done towards it, except during the\nsacrifice on Sundays.\"\n\n\"Is this certain?\" asked she.\n\n\"It is in truth,\" he answered. \"And I cannot be slain within a house\nnor without. I cannot be slain on horseback nor on foot.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said she, \"in what manner, then, canst thou be slain?\"\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said he. \"By making a bath for me by the side of a\nriver, and by putting a roof over the caldron, and thatching it well\nand tightly, and bringing a buck, and putting it beside the caldron.\nThen if I place one foot on the buck's back, and the other on the edge\nof the caldron, whosoever strikes me thus will cause my death.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"I thank Heaven that it will be easy to avoid this.\"\n\nNo sooner had she held this discourse than she sent to Gronw Pebyr.\nGronw toiled at making the spear, and that day twelvemonth it was\nready. And that very day he caused her to be informed thereof.\n\n\"Lord,\" said Blodeuwedd unto Llew, \"I have been thinking how it is\npossible that what thou didst tell me formerly can be true. Wilt thou\nshow me in what manner thou couldst stand at once upon the edge of a\ncaldron and upon a buck, if I prepare the bath for thee?\"\n\n\"I will show thee,\" said he.\n\nThen she sent unto Gronw, and bade him be in ambush on the hill which\nis now called Bryn Kyvergyr, on the bank of the River Cynvael. She\ncaused also to be collected all the goats that were in the Cantrev, and\nhad them brought to the other side of the river, opposite Bryn Kyvergyr.\n\nAnd the next day she spoke thus: \"Lord,\" said she, \"I have caused the\nroof and the bath to be prepared, and lo! they are ready.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Llew, \"we will go gladly to look at them.\"\n\nThe day after they came and looked at the bath. \"Wilt thou go into the\nbath, lord?\" said she.\n\n\"Willingly will I go in,\" he answered. So into the bath he went, and he\nanointed himself.\n\n\"Lord,\" said she, \"behold the animals which thou didst speak of as\nbeing called bucks.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"cause one of them to be caught and brought here.\" And\nthe buck was brought. Then Llew rose out of the bath, and put on his\ntrowsers, and he placed one foot on the edge of the bath, and the other\non the buck's back.\n\nThereupon Gronw rose up from the hill which is called Bryn Cyvergyr,\nand he rested on one knee, and flung the poisoned dart, and struck\nhim on the side, so that the shaft started out, but the head of the\ndart remained in. Then he flew up in the form of an eagle, and gave a\nfearful scream. And thenceforth was he no more seen.\n\nAnd the next day Gronw arose, and took possession of Ardudwy. And after\nhe had overcome the land, he ruled over it, so that Ardudwy and Penllyn\nwere both under his sway.\n\nThen these tidings reached Math the son of Mathonwy. And heaviness and\ngrief came upon Math, and much more upon Gwydion than upon him. \"Lord,\"\nsaid Gwydion, \"I shall never rest until I have tidings of my nephew.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Math, \"may Heaven be thy strength.\"\n\nThen Gwydion set forth, and began to go forward. And he went through\nGwynedd and Powys to the confines. And when he had done so, he went\ninto Arvon, and came to the house of a vassal in Maenawr Penardd.\nAnd he alighted at the house, and staid there that night. The man of\nthe house and his household came in, and last of all came there the\nswineherd. Said the man of the house to the swineherd, \"Well, youth,\nhath thy sow come in to-night?\"\n\n\"She hath,\" said he, \"and is this instant returned to the pigs.\"\n\n\"Where doth this sow go to?\" said Gwydion.\n\n\"Every day, when the sty is opened, she goeth forth, and none can catch\nsight of her, neither is it known whither she goeth more than if she\nsank into the earth.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou grant unto me,\" said Gwydion, \"not to open the sty until I\nam beside the sty with thee?\"\n\n\"This will I do right gladly,\" he answered.\n\nThat night they went to rest. And as soon as the swineherd saw the\nlight of day, he awoke Gwydion. And Gwydion arose and dressed himself,\nand went with the swineherd, and stood beside the sty. Then the\nswineherd opened the sty. And as soon as he opened it, behold she\nleaped forth, and set off with great speed. And Gwydion followed her.\nAnd she went against the course of a river, and made for a brook, which\nis now called Nant y Llew. And there she halted, and began feeding\nunder a tree. And Gwydion came under the tree, and looked, and as he\nlooked he beheld on the top of the tree an eagle. And it seemed to him\nthat the eagle was Llew. And he sang an Englyn:--\n\n    \"Oak that grows between the two banks;\n    Darkened is the sky and hill!\n    Shall I not tell him by his wounds,\n    That this is Llew?\"\n\nUpon this the eagle came down until he reached the centre of the tree.\nAnd Gwydion sang another Englyn:--\n\n    \"Oak that grows in upland ground,\n    Is it not wetted by the rain? Has it not been drenched\n    By ninescore tempests?\n    It bears in its branches Llew Llaw Gyffes!\"\n\nThen the eagle came down until he was on the lowest branch of the tree,\nand thereupon this Englyn did Gwydion sing:--\n\n    \"Oak that grows beneath the steep;\n    Stately and majestic is its aspect!\n    Shall I not speak it?\n    That Llaw will come to my lap?\"\n\nAnd the eagle came down upon Gwydion's knee. And Gwydion struck him\nwith his magic wand, so that he returned to his own form. No one ever\nsaw a more piteous sight, for he was nothing but skin and bone.\n\nThen he went unto Caer Dathyl, and there were brought unto him good\nphysicians that were in Gwynedd, and before the end of the year he was\nquite healed.\n\n\"Lord,\" said he unto Math the son of Mathonwy, \"it is full time now\nthat I have retribution of him by whom I have suffered all this woe.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Math, \"he will never be able to maintain himself in the\npossession of that which is thy right.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Llew, \"the sooner I have my right, the better shall I be\npleased.\"\n\nThen they called together the whole of Gwynedd, and set forth to\nArdudwy. And Gwydion went on before, and proceeded to Mur y Castell.\nAnd when Blodeuwedd heard that he was coming, she took her maidens\nwith her, and fled to the mountain. And they passed through the River\nCynvael, and went towards a court that there was upon the mountain; and\nthrough fear they could not proceed except with their faces looking\nbackwards, so that unawares they fell into the lake. And they were all\ndrowned except Blodeuwedd herself; and her Gwydion overtook. And he\nsaid unto her, \"I will not slay thee; but I will do unto thee worse\nthan that. For I will turn thee into a bird. And because of the shame\nthou hast done unto Llew Llaw Gyffes, thou shalt never show thy face\nin the light of day henceforth; and that through fear of all the other\nbirds. For it shall be their nature to attack thee, and to chase thee\nfrom wheresoever they may find thee. And thou shalt not lose thy name,\nbut shalt be always called Blodeuwedd.\"\n\n[Illustration: The Flight of Blodeuwedd and her Maidens.]\n\nNow Blodeuwedd is an owl in the language of this present time; and for\nthis reason is the owl hateful unto all birds. And even now the owl is\ncalled Blodeuwedd.\n\nThen Gronw Pebyr withdrew unto Penllyn, and he despatched thence an\nembassy. And the messengers he sent asked Llew Llaw Gyffes if he\nwould take land, or domain, or gold, or silver, for the injury he had\nreceived.\n\n\"I will not, by my confession to Heaven,\" said he. \"Behold this is the\nleast that I will accept from him: that he come to the spot where I\nwas when he wounded me with the dart, and that I stand where he did,\nand that with a dart I take my aim at him. And this is the very least\nthat I will accept.\"\n\nAnd this was told unto Gronw Pebyr. \"Verily,\" said he, \"is it needful\nfor me to do thus? My faithful warriors, and my household, and my\nfoster-brothers, is there not one among you who will stand the blow in\nmy stead?\"\n\n\"There is not verily,\" answered they. And because of their refusal to\nsuffer one stroke for their lord, they are called the third disloyal\ntribe even unto this day.\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"I will meet it.\"\n\nThen they two went forth to the banks of the River Cynvael; and Gronw\nstood in the place where Llew Llaw Gyffes was when he struck him, and\nLlew in the place where Gronw was. Then said Gronw Pebyr unto Llew,\n\"Since it was through the wiles of a woman that I did unto thee as I\nhave done, I adjure thee by Heaven to let me place between me and the\nblow the slab thou seest yonder on the river's bank.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Llew, \"I will not refuse thee this.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said he, \"may Heaven reward thee.\"\n\nSo Gronw took the slab, and placed it between him and the blow.\n\nThen Llew flung the dart at him, and it pierced the slab, and went\nthrew Gronw likewise, so that it pierced through his back. And thus\nwas Gronw Pebyr slain. And there is still the slab on the bank of the\nRiver Cynvael in Ardudwy, having the hole through it. And therefore is\nit even now called Llech Gronw.\n\nA second time did Llew Llaw Gyffes take possession of the land, and\nprosperously did he govern it. And, as the story relates, he was lord\nafter this over Gwynedd.\n\n\n\n\n                     BRANWEN THE DAUGHTER OF LLYR.\n\n\nBendigeid Vran, the son of Llyr, was the crowned king of this island,\nand he was exalted from the crown of London. And one afternoon he\nwas at Harlech in Ardudwy, at his court, and he sat upon the rock\nof Harlech, looking over the sea. And with him were his brother\nManawyddan the son of Llyr, and his brothers by the mother's side,\nNissyen and Evnissyen, and many nobles likewise, as was fitting to\nsee around a king. His two brothers by the mother's side were the\nsons of Eurosswydd, by his mother, Penardun, the daughter of Beli son\nof Manogan. And one of these youths was a good youth, and of gentle\nnature, and would make peace between his kindred, and cause his family\nto be friends when their wrath was at the highest; and this one was\nNissyen: but the other would cause strife between his two brothers\nwhen they were most at peace. And as they sat thus, they beheld\nthirteen ships coming from the south of Ireland, and making towards\nthem; and they came with a swift motion, the wind being behind them,\nand they neared them rapidly. \"I see ships afar,\" said the king,\n\"coming swiftly towards the land. Command the men of the court that\nthey equip themselves, and go and learn their intent.\" So the men\nequipped themselves, and went down towards them. And when they saw the\nships near, certain were they that they had never seen ships better\nfurnished. Beautiful flags of satin were upon them. And behold one of\nthe ships outstripped the others. And they saw a shield lifted up above\nthe side of the ship, and the point of the shield was upwards, in token\nof peace. And the men drew near, that they might hold converse. Then\nthey put out boats, and came towards the land. And they saluted the\nking. Now the king could hear them from the place where he was, upon\nthe rock above their heads. \"Heaven prosper you,\" said he, \"and be ye\nwelcome. To whom do these ships belong? and who is the chief amongst\nyou?\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said they, \"Matholwch, King of Ireland, is here, and these\nships belong to him.\"\n\n\"Wherefore comes he?\" asked the king. \"And will he come to the land?\"\n\n\"He is a suitor unto thee, lord,\" said they. \"And he will not land,\nunless he have his boon.\"\n\n\"And what may that be?\" inquired the king.\n\n\"He desires to ally himself with thee, lord,\" said they. \"And he comes\nto ask Branwen the daughter of Llyr, that, if it seem well to thee, the\nIsland of the Mighty may be leagued with Ireland, and both become more\npowerful.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said he, \"let him come to land, and we will take counsel\nthereupon.\"\n\nAnd this answer was brought to Matholwch. \"I will go willingly,\" said\nhe. So he landed, and they received him joyfully. And great was the\nthrong in the palace that night, between his hosts and those of the\ncourt; and next day they took counsel, and they resolved to bestow\nBranwen upon Matholwch. Now she was one of the three chief ladies of\nthis island, and she was the fairest damsel in the world.\n\nAnd they fixed upon Aberffraw as the place where she should become\nhis bride. And they went thence, and towards Aberffraw the hosts\nproceeded,--Matholwch and his host in their ships; Bendigeid Vran and\nhis host by land, until they came to Aberffraw. And at Aberffraw they\nbegan the feast, and sat down. And thus sat they: the King of the\nIsland of the Mighty and Manawyddan the son of Llyr on one side, and\nMatholwch on the other side, and Branwen the daughter of Llyr beside\nhim. And they were not within a house, but under tents. No house could\never contain Bendigeid Vran. And they began the banquet, and caroused\nand discoursed. And when it was more pleasing to them to sleep than to\ncarouse, they went to rest; and that night Branwen became Matholwch's\nbride.\n\nAnd next day they arose, and all they of the court, and the officers\nbegan to equip and to range the horses and the attendants; and they\nranged them in order as far as the sea.\n\nAnd behold one day, Evnissyen, the quarrelsome man of whom it is\nspoken above, came by chance into the place where the horses of\nMatholwch were, and asked whose horses they might be.\n\n\"They are the horses of Matholwch, King of Ireland, who is married to\nBranwen thy sister: his horses are they.\"\n\n\"And is it thus they have done with a maiden such as she, and moreover\nmy sister, bestowing her without my consent? They could have offered no\ngreater insult to me than this,\" said he. And thereupon he rushed under\nthe horses, and cut off their lips at the teeth, and their ears close\nto their heads, and their tails close to their backs, and wherever\nhe could clutch their eyelids, he cut them to the very bone, and he\ndisfigured the horses, and rendered them useless.\n\nAnd they came with these tidings unto Matholwch, saying that the horses\nwere disfigured and injured, so that not one of them could ever be of\nany use again. \"Verily, lord,\" said one, \"it was an insult unto thee,\nand as such was it meant.\"\n\n\"Of a truth, it is a marvel to me, that, if they desire to insult me,\nthey should have given me a maiden of such high rank, and so much\nbeloved of her kindred, as they have done.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said another, \"thou seest that thus it is, and there is nothing\nfor thee to do but to go to thy ships.\" And thereupon towards his ships\nhe set out.\n\nAnd tidings came to Bendigeid Vran that Matholwch was quitting the\ncourt without asking leave; and messengers were sent to inquire of him\nwherefore he did so. And the messengers that went were Iddic the son\nof Anarawd, and Heveydd Hir. And these overtook him, and asked of him\nwhat he designed to do, and wherefore he went forth. \"Of a truth,\" said\nhe, \"if I had known, I had not come hither. I have been altogether\ninsulted: no one had ever worse treatment than I have had here. But one\nthing surprises me above all.\"\n\n\"What is that?\" asked they.\n\n\"That Branwen the daughter of Llyr, one of the three chief ladies of\nthis island, and the daughter of the King of the Island of the Mighty,\nshould have been given me as my bride, and that after that I should\nhave been insulted; and I marvel that the insult was not done me before\nthey had bestowed upon me a maiden so exalted as she.\"\n\n\"Truly, lord, it was not the will of any that are of the court,\" said\nthey, \"nor of any that are of the council, that thou shouldest have\nreceived this insult; and as thou hast been insulted, the dishonor is\ngreater unto Bendigeid Vran than unto thee.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said he, \"I think so. Nevertheless he cannot recall the\ninsult.\"\n\nThese men returned with that answer to the place where Bendigeid Vran\nwas, and they told him what reply Matholwch had given them. \"Truly,\"\nsaid he, \"there are no means by which we may prevent his going away at\nenmity with us, that we will not take.\"\n\n\"Well, lord,\" said they, \"send after him another embassy.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" said he. \"Arise, Manawyddan son of Llyr, and Heveydd\nHir, and Unic Glew Ysgwyd, and go after him, and tell him that he shall\nhave a sound horse for every one that has been injured. And beside\nthat, as an atonement for the insult, he shall have a staff of silver\nas large and as tall as himself, and a plate of gold of the breadth\nof his face. And show unto him who it was that did this, and that it\nwas done against my will; but that he who did it is my brother by the\nmother's side, and therefore it would be hard for me to put him to\ndeath. And let him come and meet me,\" said he, \"and we will make peace\nin any way he may desire.\"\n\nThe embassy went after Matholwch, and told him all these sayings in a\nfriendly manner, and he listened thereunto. \"Men,\" said he, \"I will\ntake counsel.\" So to the council he went. And in the council they\nconsidered that if they should refuse this, they were likely to have\nmore shame rather than to obtain so great an atonement. They resolved\ntherefore to accept it, and they returned to the court in peace.\n\nThen the pavilions and the tents were set in order after the fashion of\na hall; and they went to meat. And as they had sat at the beginning of\nthe feast, so sat they there. And Matholwch and Bendigeid Vran began to\ndiscourse; and behold it seemed to Bendigeid Vran, while they talked,\nthat Matholwch was not so cheerful as he had been before. And he\nthought that the chieftain might be sad because of the smallness of the\natonement which he had for the wrong that had been done him. \"Oh, man,\"\nsaid Bendigeid Vran, \"thou dost not discourse to-night so cheerfully as\nthou wast wont. And if it be because of the smallness of the atonement,\nthou shalt add thereunto whatsoever thou mayest choose, and to-morrow I\nwill pay thee the horses.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"Heaven reward thee.\"\n\n\"And I will enhance the atonement,\" said Bendigeid Vran; \"for I will\ngive unto thee a caldron, the property of which is, that if one of thy\nmen be slain to-day, and be cast therein, to-morrow he will be as well\nas ever he was at the best, except that he will not regain his speech.\"\n\nAnd thereupon he gave him great thanks, and very joyful was he for that\ncause.\n\nAnd the next morning they paid Matholwch the horses as long as the\ntrained horses lasted. And then they journeyed into another commot,\nwhere they paid him with colts until the whole had been paid; and from\nthenceforth that commot was called Talebolion.\n\nAnd a second night sat they together. \"My lord,\" said Matholwch,\n\"whence hadst thou the caldron which thou hast given me?\"\n\n\"I had it of a man who had been in thy land,\" said he, \"and I would not\ngive it except to one from there.\"\n\n\"Who was it?\" asked he.\n\n\"Llassar Llaesgyvnewid. He came here from Ireland with Kymideu\nKymeinvoll, his wife, who escaped from the Iron House in Ireland when\nit was made red hot around them, and fled hither. And it is a marvel to\nme that thou shouldst know nothing concerning the matter.\"\n\n\"Something I do know,\" said he, \"and as much as I know I will tell\nthee. One day I was hunting in Ireland, and I came to the mound at\nthe head of the lake, which is called the Lake of the Caldron. And I\nbeheld a huge yellow-haired man coming from the lake, with a caldron\nupon his back. And he was a man of vast size and of horrid aspect, and\na woman followed after him. And if the man was tall, twice as large as\nhe was the woman; and they came towards me and greeted me. So I took\nthem with me, and maintained them. And they were with me for a year.\nAnd that year I had them with me not grudgingly. But thenceforth was\nthere murmuring because that they were with me. For from the beginning\nof the fourth month they had begun to make themselves hated, and to\nbe disorderly in the land, committing outrages, and molesting and\nharassing the nobles and ladies. And thenceforward my people rose up\nand besought me to part with them, and they bade me to choose between\nthem and my dominions. And I applied to the council of my country to\nknow what should be done concerning them; for of their own free will\nthey would not go, neither could they be compelled against their will,\nthrough fighting. And [the people of the country] being in this strait,\nthey caused a chamber to be made all of iron. Now, when the chamber\nwas ready, there came there every smith that was in Ireland, and every\none who owned tongs and hammer. And they caused coals to be piled up as\nhigh as the top of the chamber. And they had the man, and the woman,\nand the children, served with plenty of meat and drink; but when it\nwas known that they were drunk, they began to put fire to the coals\nabout the chamber, and they blew it with bellows until the house was\nred hot all around them. Then was there a council held in the centre of\nthe floor of the chamber. And the man tarried until the plates of iron\nwere all of a white-heat; and then, by reason of the great heat, the\nman dashed against the plates with his shoulder and struck them out,\nand his wife followed him; but, except him and his wife, none escaped\nthence. And then I suppose, lord,\" said Matholwch, unto Bendigeid Vran,\n\"that he came over unto thee.\"\n\n\"Doubtless he came here,\" said he, \"and gave unto me the caldron.\"\n\n\"In what manner didst thou receive them?\"\n\n\"I dispersed them through every part of my dominions, and they have\nbecome numerous, and are prospering everywhere, and they fortify the\nplaces where they are with men and arms of the best that were ever\nseen.\"\n\nThat night they continued to discourse as much as they would, and had\nminstrelsy and carousing; and when it was more pleasant to them to\nsleep than to sit longer, they went to rest. And thus was the banquet\ncarried on with joyousness; and when it was finished, Matholwch\njourneyed towards Ireland, and Branwen with him, and they went from\nAber Menei with thirteen ships, and came to Ireland. And in Ireland was\nthere great joy because of their coming. And not one great man or noble\nlady visited Branwen unto whom she gave not either a clasp, or a ring,\nor a royal jewel to keep, such as it was honorable to be seen departing\nwith. And in these things she spent that year in much renown, and she\npassed her time pleasantly, enjoying honor and friendship.\n\nAnd behold, in the second year a tumult arose in Ireland, on account\nof the insult which Matholwch had received in Cambria, and the payment\nmade him for his horses. And his foster-brothers, and such as were\nnearest unto him, blamed him openly for that matter. And he might have\nno peace by reason of the tumult until they should revenge upon him\nthis disgrace. And the vengeance which they took was to drive away\nBranwen from the same chamber with him, and to make her cook for the\ncourt. And they caused the butcher, after he had cut up the meat, to\ncome to her and give her every day a blow on the ear, and such they\nmade her punishment.\n\n\"Verily, lord,\" said his men to Matholwch, \"forbid now the ships and\nthe ferry-boats and the coracles, that they go not into Cambria; and\nsuch as come over from Cambria hither, imprison them that they go not\nback for this thing to be known there.\" And he did so; and t'was thus\nfor no less than three years.\n\nAnd Branwen reared a starling in the cover of the kneading-trough, and\nshe taught it to speak, and she taught the bird what manner of man her\nbrother was. And she wrote a letter of her woes, and the despite with\nwhich she was treated; and she bound the letter to the root of the\nbird's wing, and sent it towards Britain. And the bird came to this\nisland; and one day it found Bendigeid Vran at Caer Seiont in Arvon,\nconferring there, and it alighted upon his shoulder, and ruffled its\nfeathers, so that the letter was seen, and they knew that the bird had\nbeen reared in a domestic manner.\n\nThen Bendigeid Vran took the letter and looked upon it. And when he\nhad read the letter he grieved exceedingly at the tidings of Branwen's\nwoes. And immediately he began sending messengers to summon the island\ntogether. And he caused sevenscore and four countries to come unto\nhim, and he complained to them himself of the grief that his sister\nendured. So they took counsel. And in the council they resolved to go\nto Ireland, and to leave seven men as princes here, and Caradawc the\nson of Bran as the chief of them, and their seven knights. In Edeyrnion\nwere these men left. And these abode as seven ministers to take charge\nof this island; and Caradawc the son of Bran was the chief amongst them.\n\nBendigeid Vran, with the host of which we spoke, sailed towards\nIreland, and it was not far across the sea, and he came to shoal water.\nIt was but by two rivers; the Lli and the Archan were they called; and\nthe nations covered the sea. Then he proceeded with what provisions he\nhad on his own back, and approached the shore of Ireland.\n\nNow the swineherds of Matholwch were upon the seashore, and they came\nto Matholwch. \"Lord,\" said they, \"greeting be unto thee.\"\n\n\"Heaven protect you!\" said he, \"have you any news?\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said they, \"we have marvellous news: a wood have we seen upon\nthe sea in a place where we never yet saw a single tree.\"\n\n\"This is indeed a marvel,\" said he. \"Saw you aught else?\"\n\n\"We saw, lord,\" said they, \"a vast mountain beside the wood, which\nmoved, and there was a lofty ridge on the top of the mountain, and a\nlake on each side of the ridge. And the wood, and the mountain, and all\nthese things moved.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said he, \"there is none who can know aught concerning this,\nunless it be Branwen.\"\n\nMessengers then went unto Branwen. \"Lady,\" said they, \"what thinkest\nthou that this is?\"\n\n\"The men of the Island of the Mighty, who have come hither on hearing\nof my ill-treatment and my woes.\"\n\n\"What is the forest that is seen upon the sea?\" asked they.\n\n\"The yards and the masts of ships,\" she answered.\n\n\"Alas!\" said they, \"what is the mountain that is seen by the side of\nthe ships?\"\n\n\"Bendigeid Vran, my brother,\" she replied, \"coming to shoal water:\nthere is no ship that can contain him in it.\"\n\n\"What is the lofty ridge with the lake on each side thereof?\"\n\n\"On looking towards this island he is wroth; and his two eyes, one on\neach side of his nose, are the two lakes beside the ridge.\"\n\nThe warriors and the chief men of Ireland were brought together in\nhaste, and they took counsel. \"Lord,\" said the nobles unto Matholwch,\n\"there is no other counsel than to retreat over the Linon (a river\nwhich is in Ireland), and to keep the river between thee and him,\nand to break down the bridge that is across the river; for there is\na loadstone at the bottom of the river that neither ship nor vessel\ncan pass over.\" So they retreated across the river and broke down the\nbridge.\n\nBendigeid Vran came to land, and the fleet with him by the bank of the\nriver. \"Lord,\" said his chieftains, \"knowest thou the nature of this\nriver, that nothing can go across it, and there is no bridge over it?\nWhat,\" said they, \"is thy counsel concerning a bridge?\"\n\n\"There is none,\" said he, \"except that he who will be chief let him\nbe a bridge. I will be so,\" said he. And then was that saying first\nuttered, and it is still used as a proverb. And when he had lain down\nacross the river, hurdles were placed upon him and the host passed over\nthereby.\n\nAnd as he rose up, behold the messengers of Matholwch came to him,\nand saluted him, and gave him greeting in the name of Matholwch his\nkinsman, and showed how that of his good-will he had merited him\nnothing but good. \"For Matholwch has given the kingdom of Ireland to\nGwern the son of Matholwch, thy nephew and thy sister's son. And this\nhe places before thee as a compensation for the wrong and despite\nthat has been done unto Branwen. And Matholwch shall be maintained\nwheresoever thou wilt, either here or in the Island of the Mighty.\"\n\nSaid Bendigeid Vran, \"Shall not I myself have the kingdom? Then\nperadventure I may take counsel concerning your message. From this time\nuntil then no other answer will you get from me.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said they, \"the best message that we receive for thee we will\nconvey it unto thee, and do thou await our message unto him.\"\n\n\"I will wait,\" answered he; \"and do you return quickly.\"\n\nThe messengers set forth and came to Matholwch. \"Lord,\" said they,\n\"prepare a better message for Bendigeid Vran. He would not listen at\nall to the message that we bore him.\"\n\n\"My friends,\" said Matholwch, \"what may be your counsel?\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said they, \"there is no other counsel than this alone. He was\nnever known to be within a house, make therefore a house that will\ncontain him and the men of the Island of the Mighty on the one side,\nand thyself and thy host on the other, and give over thy kingdom to his\nwill, and do him homage. So by reason of the honor thou doest him in\nmaking him a house, whereas he never before had a house to contain him,\nhe will make peace with thee.\" So the messengers went back to Bendigeid\nVran, bearing him this message.\n\nAnd he took counsel, and in the council it was resolved that he should\naccept this; and this was all done by the advice of Branwen, and lest\nthe country should be destroyed. And this peace was made, and the house\nwas built both vast and strong. But the Irish planned a crafty device,\nand the craft was that they should put brackets on each side of the\nhundred pillars that were in the house, and should place a leathern bag\non each bracket, and an armed man in every one of them. Then Evnissyen\ncame in before the host of the Island of the Mighty, and scanned the\nhouse with fierce and savage looks, and descried the leathern bags\nwhich were around the pillars. \"What is in this bag?\" asked he of one\nof the Irish.\n\n\"Meal, good soul,\" said he. And Evnissyen felt about it until he came\nto the man's head, and he squeezed the head [until he killed the man].\n\nAnd he left that one, and put his hand upon another, and asked what was\ntherein. \"Meal,\" said the Irishman. So he did the like unto every one\nof them, until he had not left alive of all the two hundred men save\none only; and when he came to him he asked what was there. \"Meal, good\nsoul,\" said the Irishman. And he felt about until he felt the head,\nand he squeezed that head as he had done the others. And, albeit he\nfound that the head of this one was armed, he left him not until he had\nkilled him. And then he sang an Englyn:--\n\n    \"There is in this bag a different sort of meal,\n    The ready combatant, when the assault is made\n    By his fellow-warriors, prepared for battle.\"\n\nThereupon came the hosts unto the house. The men of the Island of\nIreland entered the house on the one side, and the men of the Island\nof the Mighty on the other. And as soon as they had sat down there\nwas concord between them; and the sovereignty was conferred upon the\nboy. When the peace was concluded, Bendigeid Vran called the boy unto\nhim, and from Bendigeid Vran the boy went unto Manawyddan, and he was\nbeloved by all that beheld him. And from Manawyddan the boy was called\nby Nissyen the son of Eurosswydd, and the boy went unto him lovingly.\n\"Wherefore,\" said Evnissyen, \"comes not my nephew the son of my sister\nunto me? Though he were not king of Ireland, yet willingly would I\nfondle the boy.\"\n\n\"Cheerfully let him go to thee,\" said Bendigeid Vran, and the boy went\nunto him cheerfully.\n\n\"By my confession to Heaven,\" said Evnissyen in his heart, \"unthought\nof by the household is the slaughter that I will this instant commit.\"\n\nThen he arose and took up the boy by the feet, and before any one in\nthe house could seize hold of him, he thrust the boy headlong into the\nblazing fire. And when Branwen saw her son burning in the fire, she\nstrove to leap into the fire also, from the place where she sat between\nher two brothers. But Bendigeid Vran grasped her with one hand, and\nhis shield with the other. Then they all hurried about the house, and\nnever was there made so great a tumult by any host in one house as was\nmade by them, as each man armed himself. Then said Morddwydtyllyon,\n\"The gadflies of Morddwydtyllyon's Cow!\" And while they all sought\ntheir arms, Bendigeid Vran supported Branwen between his shield and his\nshoulder.\n\nThen the Irish kindled a fire under the caldron of renovation, and they\ncast the dead bodies into the caldron until it was full, and the next\nday they came forth fighting-men as good as before, except that they\nwere not able to speak. Then when Evnissyen saw the dead bodies of the\nmen of the Island of the Mighty nowhere resuscitated, he said in his\nheart, \"Alas! woe is me, that I should have been the cause of bringing\nthe men of the Island of the Mighty into so great a strait. Evil betide\nme if I find not a deliverance therefrom.\" And he cast himself among\nthe dead bodies of the Irish, and two unshod Irishmen came to him, and,\ntaking him to be one of the Irish, flung him into the caldron. And he\nstretched himself out in the caldron, so that he rent the caldron into\nfour pieces, and burst his own heart also.\n\nIn consequence of that the men of the Island of the Mighty obtained\nsuch success as they had; but they were not victorious, for only seven\nmen of them all escaped, and Bendigeid Vran himself was wounded in the\nfoot with a poisoned dart. Now the seven men that escaped were Pryderi,\nManawyddan, Gluneu Eil Taran, Taliesin, Ynawc, Grudyen the son of\nMuryel, and Heilyn the son of Gwynn Hen.\n\nAnd Bendigeid Vran commanded them that they should cut off his head.\n\"And take you my head,\" said he, \"and bear it even unto the White\nMount, in London, and bury it there, with the face towards France. And\na long time will you be upon the road. In Harlech you will be feasting\nseven years, the birds of Rhiannon singing unto you the while. And all\nthat time the head will be to you as pleasant company as it ever was\nwhen on my body. And at Gwales in Penvro you will be fourscore years,\nand you may remain there, and the head with you uncorrupted, until you\nopen the door that looks towards Aber Henvelen, and towards Cornwall.\nAnd after you have opened that door, there you may no longer tarry, set\nforth then to London to bury the head, and go straight forward.\"\n\nSo they cut off his head, and these seven went forward therewith. And\nBranwen was the eighth with them, and they came to land at Aber Alaw,\nin Talebolyon, and they sat down to rest. And Branwen looked towards\nIreland and towards the Island of the Mighty, to see if she could\ndescry them. \"Alas,\" said she, \"woe is me that I was ever born: two\nislands have been destroyed because of me!\" Then she uttered a loud\ngroan, and there broke her heart. And they made her a four-sided grave,\nand buried her upon the banks of the Alaw.\n\nThen the seven men journeyed forward towards Harlech, bearing the head\nwith them; and as they went behold there met them a multitude of men\nand of women. \"Have you any tidings?\" asked Manawyddan.\n\n\"We have none,\" said they, \"save that Caswallawn the son of Beli, has\nconquered the Island of the Mighty, and is crowned king in London.\"\n\n\"What has become,\" said they, \"of Caradawc the son of Bran, and the\nseven men who were left with him in this island?\"\n\n\"Caswallawn came upon them, and slew six of the men, and Caradawc's\nheart broke for grief thereof; for he could see the sword that slew\nthe men, but knew not who it was that wielded it. Caswallawn had flung\nupon him the Veil of Illusion, so that no one could see him slay the\nmen, but the sword only could they see. And it liked him not to slay\nCaradawc, because he was his nephew, the son of his cousin. And now he\nwas the third whose heart had broke through grief. Pendaran Dyved, who\nhad remained as a young page with these men, escaped into the wood,\"\nsaid they.\n\nThen they went on to Harlech, and there stopped to rest, and they\nprovided meat and liquor, and sat down to eat and to drink. And there\ncame three birds, and began singing unto them a certain song, and all\nthe songs they had ever heard were unpleasant compared thereto; and the\nbirds seemed to them to be at a great distance from them over the sea,\nyet they appeared as distinct as if they were close by, and at this\nrepast they continued seven years.\n\nAnd at the close of the seventh year they went forth to Gwales in\nPenvro. And there they found a fair and regal spot overlooking the\nocean; and a spacious hall was therein. And they went into the hall,\nand two of its doors were open; but the third door was closed,--that\nwhich looked towards Cornwall. \"See, yonder,\" said Manawyddan, \"is the\ndoor that we may not open.\" And that night they regaled themselves and\nwere joyful. And of all they had seen of food laid before them, and\nof all they had heard of, they remembered nothing; neither of that,\nnor of any sorrow whatsoever. And there they remained fourscore years,\nunconscious of having ever spent a time more joyous and mirthful. And\nthey were not more weary than when first they came, neither did they,\nany of them, know the time they had been there. And it was not more\nirksome to them having the head with them, than if Bendigeid Vran had\nbeen with them himself. And because of these fourscore years, it was\ncalled the entertaining of the noble head. The entertaining of Branwen\nand Matholwch was in the time that they went to Ireland.\n\nOne day said Heilyn the son of Gwynn, \"Evil betide me if I do not open\nthe door to know if that is true which is said concerning it.\" So he\nopened the door, and looked towards Cornwall and Aber Henvelen. And\nwhen they had looked, they were as conscious of all the evils they had\never sustained, and of all the friends and companions they had lost,\nand of all the misery that had befallen them, as if all had happened in\nthat very spot; and especially of the fate of their lord. And because\nof their perturbation they could not rest, but journeyed forth with the\nhead towards London. And they buried the head in the White Mount, and\nwhen it was buried this was the third goodly concealment; and it was\nthe third ill-fated disclosure when it was disinterred, inasmuch as no\ninvasion from across the sea came to this island while the head was in\nthat concealment.\n\n\n\n\n                       MANAWYDDAN AND THE MICE.\n\n       [ENTITLED IN THE ORIGINAL \"MANAWYDDAN THE SON OF LLYR.\"]\n\n\nWhen the seven men of whom we spoke [in the foregoing tale] had buried\nthe head of Bendigeid Vran, in the White Mount in London, with its face\ntowards France, Manawyddan gazed upon the town of London, and upon his\ncompanions, and heaved a great sigh; and much grief and heaviness came\nupon him. \"Alas, Almighty Heaven, woe is me!\" he exclaimed, \"there is\nnone save myself without a resting-place this night.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Pryderi, \"be not so sorrowful. Thy cousin is king of\nthe Island of the Mighty, and though he should do thee wrong, thou\nhast never been a claimant of land or possessions. Thou art the third\ndisinherited prince.\"\n\n\"Yea,\" answered he; \"but although this man is my cousin, it grieveth me\nto see any one in the place of my brother Bendigeid Vran, neither can I\nbe happy in the same dwelling with him.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou follow the counsel of another?\" said Pryderi.\n\n\"I stand in need of counsel,\" he answered; \"and what may that counsel\nbe?\"\n\n\"Seven cantrevs remain unto me,\" said Pryderi, \"wherein Rhiannon my\nmother dwells. I will bestow her upon thee, and the seven Cantrevs with\nher, and thou couldst not have seven Cantrevs fairer than they. Kicva,\nthe daughter of Gwynn Gloyw, is my wife; and since the inheritance of\nthe Cantrevs belongs to me, do thou and Rhiannon enjoy them.\"\n\nThey set forth, and, however long the journey, they came at length\nto Dyved; and a feast was prepared for them against their coming to\nNarberth, which Rhiannon and Kicva had provided. Then began Manawyddan\nand Rhiannon to sit and to talk together, and from their discourse his\nmind and his thoughts became warmed towards her, and he thought in his\nheart he had never beheld any lady more fulfilled of grace and beauty\nthan she. \"Pryderi,\" said he, \"I will that it be as thou didst say.\"\n\n\"What saying was that?\" asked Rhiannon.\n\n\"Lady,\" said Pryderi, \"I did offer thee as a wife to Manawyddan the son\nof Llyr.\"\n\n\"By that will I gladly abide,\" said Rhiannon.\n\n\"Right glad am I also,\" said Manawyddan. \"May Heaven reward him who\nhath shown unto me friendship so perfect as this.\"\n\nAnd before the feast was over she became his bride. Said Pryderi,\n\"Tarry ye here the rest of the feast, and I will go into Lloegyr to\ntender my homage unto Caswallawn the son of Beli.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Rhiannon, \"Caswallawn is in Kent: thou mayest therefore\ntarry at the feast, and wait until he shall be nearer.\"\n\n\"We will wait,\" he answered. So they finished the feast. And they began\nto make the circuit of Dyved, and to hunt, and to take their pleasure.\nAnd as they went through the country, they had never seen lands more\npleasant to live in, nor better hunting-grounds, nor greater plenty of\nhoney and fish. And such was the friendship between those four, that\nthey would not be parted from each other by night nor by day.\n\nAnd in the midst of all this he went to Caswallawn at Oxford, and\ntendered his homage; and honorable was his reception there, and highly\nwas he praised for offering his homage.\n\nAnd after his return, Pryderi and Manawyddan feasted, and took their\nease and pleasure. And they began a feast at Narberth; for it was the\nchief palace, and there originated all honor. And when they had ended\nthe first meal that night, while those who served them ate, they arose\nand went forth, and proceeded all four to the Gorsedd of Narberth,\nand their retinue with them. And as they sat thus, behold a peal of\nthunder, and with the violence of the thunderstorm, lo there came a\nfall of mist so thick that not one of them could see the other. And\nafter the mist it became light all around. And when they looked towards\nthe place where they were wont to see cattle and herds and dwellings,\nthey saw nothing now,--neither house, nor beast, nor smoke, nor fire,\nnor man, nor dwelling, but the houses of the court empty and desert and\nuninhabited, without either man or beast within them. And truly all\ntheir companions were lost to them, without their knowing aught of what\nhad befallen them, save those four only.\n\n\"In the name of Heaven,\" cried Manawyddan, \"where are they of the\ncourt, and all my host beside these? Let us go and see.\" So they came\ninto the hall, and there was no man; and they went on to the castle,\nand to the sleeping-place, and they saw none; and in the mead-cellar\nand in the kitchen there was nought but desolation. Then they began to\ngo through the land and all the possessions that they had, and they\nvisited the houses and dwellings, and found nothing but wild beasts.\nAnd when they had consumed their feast and all their provisions, they\nfed upon the prey they killed in hunting, and the honey of the wild\nswarms.\n\n\"Verily,\" said Manawyddan, \"we must not bide thus. Let us go into\nLloegyr, and seek some craft whereby we may gain our support.\" So\nthey went into Lloegyr, and came as far as Hereford. And they betook\nthemselves to making saddles. And Manawyddan began to make housings;\nand he gilded and colored them with blue enamel in the manner that he\nhad seen it done by Llasar Llaesgywydd. And he made the blue enamel as\nit was made by the other man. And therefore is it still called Calch\nLasar [blue enamel], because Llasar Llaesgywydd had wrought it.\n\nAnd as long as that workmanship could be had of Manawyddan, neither\nsaddle nor housing was bought of a saddler throughout all Hereford;\ntill at length every one of the saddlers perceived that they were\nlosing much of their gain, and that no man bought of them but him who\ncould not get what he sought from Manawyddan. Then they assembled\ntogether, and agreed to slay him and his companions.\n\nNow they received warning of this, and took counsel whether they should\nleave the city. \"By Heaven,\" said Pryderi, \"it is not my counsel that\nwe should quit the town, but that we should slay these boors.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said Manawyddan; \"for, if we fight with them, we shall have\nevil fame, and shall be put in prison. It were better for us to go to\nanother town to maintain ourselves.\" So they four went to another city.\n\n\"What craft shall we take?\" said Pryderi.\n\n\"We will make shields,\" said Manawyddan.\n\n\"Do we know any thing about that craft?\" said Pryderi.\n\n\"We will try,\" answered he. There they began to make shields, and\nfashioned them after the shape of the good shields they had seen; and\nthey enamelled them, as they had done the saddles. And they prospered\nin that place, so that not a shield was asked for in the whole town,\nbut such as was had of them. Rapid therefore was their work, and\nnumberless were the shields they made. But at last they were marked by\nthe craftsmen, who came together in haste, and their fellow-townsmen\nwith them, and agreed that they should seek to slay them. But they\nreceived warning, and heard how the men had resolved on their\ndestruction. \"Pryderi,\" said Manawyddan, \"these men desire to slay us.\nLet us not endure this from these boors, but let us rather fall upon\nthem and slay them.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" he answered. \"Caswallawn and his men will hear of it, and we\nshall be undone. Let us go to another town.\" So to another town they\nwent.\n\n\"What craft shall we take?\" said Manawyddan.\n\n\"Whatsoever thou wilt that we know,\" said Pryderi.\n\n\"Not so,\" he replied; \"but let us take to making shoes.\"\n\n\"I know nothing thereof,\" said Pryderi.\n\n\"But I know,\" answered Manawyddan; \"and I will teach thee to stitch.\nWe will not attempt to dress the leather; but we will buy it ready\ndressed, and will make the shoes from it.\"\n\nSo he began by buying the best cordwal that could be had in the town,\nand none other would he buy except the leather for the soles. And he\nassociated himself with the best goldsmith in the town, and caused him\nto make clasps for the shoes, and to gild the clasps; and he marked how\nit was done, until he learned the method. And therefore he was called\none of the three makers of gold shoes; and when they could be had from\nhim, not a shoe nor hose was bought of any of the cordwainers in the\ntown. But when the cordwainers perceived that their gains were failing\n(for as Manawyddan shaped the work, so Pryderi stitched it), they came\ntogether and took counsel, and agreed that they would slay them.\n\n\"Pryderi,\" said Manawyddan, \"these men are minded to slay us.\"\n\n\"Wherefore should we bear this from the boorish thieves?\" said Pryderi.\n\"Rather let us slay them all.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said Manawyddan: \"we will not slay them, neither will we\nremain in Lloegyr any longer. Let us set forth to Dyved and go to see\nit.\"\n\nSo they journeyed along until they came to Dyved, and they went forward\nto Narberth. And there they kindled fire, and supported themselves by\nhunting. And thus they spent a month. And they gathered their dogs\naround them, and tarried there one year.\n\nAnd one morning Pryderi and Manawyddan rose up to hunt; and they ranged\ntheir dogs, and went forth from the palace. And some of the dogs ran\nbefore them, and came to a small bush which was near at hand; but as\nsoon as they were come to the bush they hastily drew back, and returned\nto the men, their hair bristling up greatly. \"Let us go near to the\nbush,\" said Pryderi, \"and see what is in it.\" And as they came near,\nbehold, a wild boar of a pure white color rose up from the bush. Then\nthe dogs, being set on by the men, rushed towards him; but he left the\nbush, and fell back a little way from the men, and made a stand against\nthe dogs, without retreating from them, until the men had come near.\nAnd when the men came up, he fell back a second time, and betook him to\nflight. Then they pursued the boar until they beheld a vast and lofty\ncastle, all newly built, in a place where they had never before seen\neither stone or building. And the boar ran swiftly into the castle, and\nthe dogs after him. Now, when the boar and the dogs had gone into the\ncastle, they began to wonder at finding a castle in a place where they\nhad never before then seen any building whatsoever. And from the top of\nthe Gorsedd they looked and listened for the dogs. But so long as they\nwere there they heard not one of the dogs, nor aught concerning them.\n\n\"Lord,\" said Pryderi, \"I will go into the castle to get tidings of the\ndogs.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" he replied, \"thou wouldst be unwise to go into this castle\nwhich thou hast never seen till now. If thou wouldst follow my counsel,\nthou wouldst not enter therein. Whosoever has cast a spell over this\nland has caused this castle to be here.\"\n\n\"Of a truth,\" answered Pryderi, \"I cannot thus give up my dogs.\" And\nfor all the counsel that Manawyddan gave him, yet to the castle he went.\n\nWhen he came within the castle, neither man nor beast, nor boar nor\ndogs, nor house nor dwelling, saw he within it. But in the centre of\nthe castle-floor he beheld a fountain with marble work around it, and\non the margin of the fountain a golden bowl upon a marble slab, and\nchains hanging from the air, to which he saw no end.\n\nAnd he was greatly pleased with the beauty of the gold, and with the\nrich workmanship of the bowl, and he went up to the bowl and laid hold\nof it. And when he had taken hold of it, his hands stuck to the bowl,\nand his feet to the slab on which the bowl was placed, and all his\njoyousness forsook him, so that he could not utter a word. And thus he\nstood.\n\nAnd Manawyddan waited for him till near the close of the day. And late\nin the evening, being certain that he should have no tidings of Pryderi\nor of the dogs, he went back to the palace. And as he entered, Rhiannon\nlooked at him. \"Where,\" said she, \"are thy companion and thy dogs?\"\n\n\"Behold,\" he answered, \"the adventure that has befallen me.\" And he\nrelated it all unto her.\n\n\"An evil companion hast thou been,\" said Rhiannon, \"and a good\ncompanion hast thou lost.\" And with that word she went out, and\nproceeded towards the castle according to the direction which he gave\nher. The gate of the castle she found open. She was nothing daunted,\nand she went in. And as she went in she perceived Pryderi laying hold\nof the bowl, and she went towards him. \"O my lord,\" said she, \"what\ndost thou do here?\" And she took hold of the bowl with him; and as\nshe did so, her hands became fast to the bowl, and her feet to the\nslab, and she was not able to utter a word. And with that, as it\nbecame night, lo, there came thunder upon them, and a fall of mist, and\nthereupon the castle vanished, and they with it.\n\n[Illustration: Pryderi Held Fast by the Enchanted Bowl.]\n\nWhen Kicva, the daughter of Gwynn Gloew, saw that there was no one in\nthe palace but herself and Manawyddan, she sorrowed so that she cared\nnot whether she lived or died. And Manawyddan saw this. \"Thou art in\nthe wrong,\" said he, \"if through fear of me thou grievest thus. I call\nHeaven to witness that thou hast never seen friendship more pure than\nthat which I will bear thee as long as Heaven will that thou shouldst\nbe thus.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee,\" she said, \"and that is what I deemed of thee.\"\nAnd the damsel thereupon took courage and was glad.\n\n\"Truly, lady,\" said Manawyddan, \"it is not fitting for us to stay here:\nwe have lost our dogs, and we cannot get food. Let us go into Lloegyr:\nit is easiest for us to find support there.\"\n\n\"Gladly, lord,\" said she, \"we will do so.\" And they set forth together\nto Lloegyr. [But again the cordwainers drove them from their craft. And\nKicva would have fought them; but]\n\n\"Nay,\" said he, \"we will go back unto Dyved.\" So towards Dyved they set\nforth.\n\nNow Madawyddan, when he set out to return to Dyved, took with him a\nburden of wheat. And he proceeded towards Narberth, and there he dwelt.\nAnd then he began to prepare some ground, and he sowed a croft, and a\nsecond, and a third. And no wheat in the world ever sprung up better.\nAnd the three crofts prospered with perfect growth, and no man ever saw\nfairer wheat than it.\n\nAnd thus passed the seasons of the year until the harvest came. And\nhe went to look at one of his crofts, and behold it was ripe. \"I will\nreap this to-morrow,\" said he. And that night he went back to Narberth.\nAnd on the morrow in the gray dawn he went to reap the croft, and when\nhe came there he found nothing but the bare straw. Every one of the\nears of the wheat was cut from off the stalk, and all the ears carried\nentirely away, and nothing but the straw left. And at this he marvelled\ngreatly.\n\nThen he went to look at another croft, and behold that also was ripe.\n\"Verily,\" said he, \"this will I reap to-morrow.\" And on the morrow\nhe came with the intent to reap it, and when he came there he found\nnothing but the bare straw. \"Oh, gracious Heaven,\" he exclaimed, \"I\nknow that whosoever has begun my ruin is completing it, and has also\ndestroyed the country with me.\"\n\nThen he went to look at the third croft, and when he came there, finer\nwheat had there never been seen, and this also was ripe. \"Evil betide\nme,\" said he, \"if I watch not here to-night. Whoever carried off the\nother corn will come in like manner to take this. And I will know who\nit is.\" So he took his arms, and began to watch the croft. And he told\nKicva all that had befallen.\n\n\"Verily,\" said she, \"what thinkest thou to do?\"\n\n\"I will watch the croft to-night,\" said he.\n\nAnd he went to watch the croft. And at midnight, lo, there arose the\nloudest tumult in the world. And he looked, and behold the mightiest\nhost of mice in the world, which could neither be numbered nor\nmeasured. And he knew not what it was until the mice had made their way\ninto the croft, and each of them, climbing up the straw and bending it\ndown with its weight, had cut off one of the ears of wheat, and had\ncarried it away, leaving there the stalk; and he saw not a single straw\nthere that had not a mouse to it. And they all took their way, carrying\nthe ears with them.\n\nIn wrath and anger did he rush upon the mice; but he could no more come\nup with them than if they had been gnats, or birds in the air, except\none only, which, though it was but sluggish, went so fast that a man\non foot could scarce overtake it. And after this one he went, and he\ncaught it, and put it in his glove, and tied up the opening of the\nglove with a string, and kept it with him, and returned to the palace.\nThen he came to the hall where Kicva was, and he lighted a fire, and\nhung the glove by the string upon a peg.\n\n\"What hast thou there, lord?\" said Kicva.\n\n\"A thief,\" said he, \"that I found robbing me.\"\n\n\"What kind of thief may it be, lord, that thou couldst put into thy\nglove?\" said she.\n\n\"Behold, I will tell thee,\" he answered. Then he showed her how his\nfields had been wasted and destroyed, and how the mice came to the\nlast of the fields in his sight. \"And one of them was less nimble than\nthe rest, and is now in my glove: to-morrow I will hang it. And before\nHeaven, if I had them, I would hang them all.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said she, \"this is marvellous. But yet it would be unseemly\nfor a man of dignity like thee to be hanging such a reptile as this.\nAnd if thou doest right, thou wilt not meddle with the creature, but\nwilt let it go.\"\n\n\"Woe betide me,\" said he, \"if I would not hang them all, could I catch\nthem; and such as I have I will hang.\"\n\n\"Verily, lord,\" said she, \"there is no reason that I should succor this\nreptile, except to prevent discredit unto thee. Do therefore, lord, as\nthou wilt.\"\n\n\"If I knew of any cause in the world wherefore thou shouldst succor it,\nI would take thy counsel concerning it,\" said Manawyddan; \"but as I\nknow of none, lady, I am minded to destroy it.\"\n\n\"Do so willingly, then,\" said she.\n\nAnd then he went to the Gorsedd of Narberth, taking the mouse with him.\nAnd he set up two forks on the highest part of the Gorsedd. And while\nhe was doing this, behold he saw a scholar coming towards him in old\nand poor and tattered garments. And it was now seven years since he had\nseen in that place either man or beast, except those four persons who\nhad remained together until two of them were lost.\n\n\"My lord,\" said the scholar, \"good day to thee.\"\n\n\"Heaven prosper thee, and my greeting be unto thee. And whence dost\nthou come, scholar?\" asked he.\n\n\"I come, lord, from singing in Lloegyr; and wherefore dost thou\ninquire?\"\n\n\"Because, for the last seven years,\" answered he, \"I have seen no man\nhere save four secluded persons, and thyself this moment.\"\n\n\"Truly, lord,\" said he, \"I go through this land unto mine own. And what\nwork art thou upon, lord?\"\n\n\"I am hanging a thief that I caught robbing me,\" said he.\n\n\"What manner of thief is that?\" asked the scholar. \"I see a creature in\nthy hand like unto a mouse; and ill does it become a man of rank equal\nto thine to touch a reptile such as this. Let it go forth free.\"\n\n\"I will not let it go free, by Heaven,\" said he. \"I caught it robbing\nme, and the doom of a thief will I inflict upon it, and I will hang it.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"rather than see a man of rank equal to thine at such\na work as this, I would give thee a pound, which I have received as\nalms, to let the reptile go forth free.\"\n\n\"I will not let it go free,\" said he, \"by Heaven; neither will I sell\nit.\"\n\n\"As thou wilt, lord,\" he answered. \"Except that I would not see a man\nof rank equal to thine touching such a reptile, I care nought.\" And the\nscholar went his way.\n\nAnd as he was placing the crossbeam upon the two forks, behold a priest\ncame towards him upon a horse covered with trappings. \"Good-day to\nthee, lord,\" said he.\n\n\"Heaven prosper thee!\" said Manawyddan; \"thy blessing.\"\n\n\"The blessing of Heaven be upon thee! And what, lord, art thou doing?\"\n\n\"I am hanging a thief that I caught robbing me,\" said he.\n\n\"What manner of thief, lord?\" asked he.\n\n\"A creature,\" he answered, \"in form of a mouse. It has been robbing me,\nand I am inflicting upon it the doom of a thief.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"rather than see thee touch this reptile, I would\npurchase its freedom.\"\n\n\"By my confession to Heaven, neither will I sell it nor set it free.\"\n\n\"It is true, lord, that it is worth nothing to buy. But rather than see\nthee defile thyself by touching such a reptile as this, I will give\nthee three pounds to let it go.\"\n\n\"I will not, by Heaven,\" said he, \"take any price for it. As it ought,\nso shall it be hanged.\"\n\n\"Willingly, lord, do thy good pleasure.\" And the priest went his way.\n\nThen he noosed the string around the mouse's neck, and as he was\nabout to draw it up, behold, he saw a bishop's retinue with his\nsumpter-horses, and his attendants. And the bishop himself came\ntowards him. And he stayed his work. \"Lord bishop,\" said he, \"thy\nblessing.\"\n\n\"Heaven's blessing be unto thee,\" said he. \"What work art thou upon?\"\n\n\"Hanging a thief that I caught robbing me,\" said he.\n\n\"Is not that a mouse that I see in thy hand?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered he. \"And she has robbed me.\"\n\n\"Ay,\" said he, \"since I have come at the doom of this reptile, I will\nransom it of thee. I will give thee seven pounds for it, and that\nrather than see a man of rank equal to thine destroying so vile a\nreptile as this. Let it loose, and thou shalt have the money.\"\n\n\"I declare to Heaven that I will not set it loose.\"\n\n\"If thou wilt not loose it for this, I will give thee four and twenty\npounds of ready money to set it free.\"\n\n\"I will not set it free, by Heaven, for as much again,\" said he.\n\n\"If thou wilt not set it free for this, I will give thee all the horses\nthat thou seest in this plain, and the seven loads of baggage, and the\nseven horses that they are upon.\"\n\n\"By Heaven, I will not,\" he replied.\n\n\"Since for this thou wilt not, do so at what price soever thou wilt.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" said he. \"I will that Rhiannon and Pryderi be free,\"\nsaid he.\n\n\"That thou shalt have,\" he answered.\n\n\"Not yet will I loose the mouse, by Heaven.\"\n\n\"What then wouldst thou?\"\n\n\"That the charm and the illusion be removed from the seven Cantrevs of\nDyved.\"\n\n\"This shalt thou have also: set therefore the mouse free.\"\n\n\"I will not set it free, by Heaven,\" said he. \"I will know who the\nmouse may be.\"\n\n\"She is my wife.\"\n\n\"Even though she be, I will not set her free. Wherefore came she to me?\"\n\n\"To despoil thee,\" he answered. \"I am Llwyd the son of Kilcoed, and I\ncast the charm over the seven cantrevs of Dyved. And it was to avenge\nGwawl the son of Clud from the friendship I had towards him, that I\ncast the charm. And upon Pryderi did I revenge Gwawl the son of Clud\nfor the game of Badger in the Bag that Pwyll Pen Annwn played upon him,\nwhich he did unadvisedly in the court of Heveydd H\u00ean. And when it was\nknown that thou wast come to dwell in the land, my household came and\nbesought me to transform them into mice, that they might destroy thy\ncorn. And it was my own household that went the first night. And the\nsecond night also they went, and they destroyed thy two crofts. And\nthe third night came unto me my wife and the ladies of the court, and\nbesought me to transform them. And I transformed them. But since [my\nwife] has been caught, I will restore thee Pryderi and Rhiannon; and I\nwill take the charm and illusion from off Dyved. I have now told thee\nwho she is. Set her therefore free.\"\n\n\"I will not set her free, by Heaven,\" said he.\n\n\"What wilt thou more?\" he asked.\n\n\"I will that there be no more charm upon the seven Cantrevs of Dyved,\nand that none shall be put upon it henceforth.\"\n\n\"This thou shalt have,\" said he. \"Now set her free.\"\n\n\"I will not, by my faith,\" he answered.\n\n\"What wilt thou furthermore?\" asked he.\n\n\"Behold,\" said he, \"this will I have; that vengeance be never taken for\nthis, either upon Pryderi, or Rhiannon, or upon me.\"\n\n\"All this shalt thou have. And truly thou hast done wisely in asking\nthis. Upon thy head would have lighted all this trouble.\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said he, \"for fear thereof was it that I required this.\"\n\n\"Set now my wife at liberty.\"\n\n\"I will not, by Heaven,\" said he, \"until I see Pryderi and Rhiannon\nwith me free.\"\n\n\"Behold, here they come,\" he answered.\n\nAnd thereupon behold Pryderi and Rhiannon. And he rose up to meet them,\nand greeted them, and sat down beside them. \"Ah, chieftain, set now my\nwife at liberty,\" said the bishop. \"Hast thou not received all thou\ndidst ask?\"\n\n\"I will release her gladly,\" said he. And thereupon he set her free.\n\nThen Llywyd struck her with a magic wand, and she was changed back into\na young woman, the fairest ever seen.\n\n\"Look around upon thy land,\" said he, \"and then thou wilt see it all\ntilled and peopled, as it was in its best state.\"\n\nAnd he rose up and looked forth. And when he looked he saw all the\nlands tilled, and full of herds and dwellings. \"What bondage,\" he\ninquired, \"has there been upon Pryderi and Rhiannon?\"\n\n\"Pryderi has had the knockers of the gate of my palace about his neck,\nand Rhiannon has had the collars of the asses, after they have been\ncarrying hay, about her neck.\"\n\nAnd such had been their bondage.\n\nAnd by reason of this bondage is this story called the Mabinogi of\nMynnweir and Mynord.\n\n\n\n\n                     GERAINT THE SON OF ERBIN.[17]\n\n\n[Footnote 17: It is from this tale that Tennyson drew the incidents of\nhis poem upon Geraint and Enid.]\n\nArthur was accustomed to hold his court at Caerlleon-upon-Usk. And\nthere he held it seven Easters and five Christmases. And once upon a\ntime he held his court there at Whitsuntide. For Caerlleon was the\nplace most easy of access in his dominions, both by sea and by land.\nAnd there were assembled nine crowned kings, who were his tributaries,\nand likewise earls and barons. For they were his invited guests at all\nthe high festivals, unless they were prevented by any great hindrance.\nAnd when he was at Caerlleon, holding his court, thirteen churches were\nset apart for mass. And thus were they appointed: one church for Arthur\nand his kings and his guests; and the second for Gwenhwyvar and her\nladies; and the third for the steward of the household and the suitors;\nand the fourth for the franks and the other officers: and the other\nnine churches were for the nine masters of the household, and chiefly\nfor Gwalchmai;[18] for he, from the eminence of his warlike fame, and\nfrom the nobleness of his birth, was the most exalted of the nine.\n\n[Footnote 18: \"Gwalchmai,\" as before stated, is the \"Sir Gawaine\" of\nMalory's _King Arthur_.]\n\nGlewlwyd Gavaelvawr was the chief porter; but he did not himself\nperform the office, except at one of the three high festivals, for he\nhad seven men to serve him, and they divided the year amongst them.\nAnd on Whit-Tuesday, as the king sat at the banquet, lo! there entered\na tall, fair-headed youth, clad in a coat and a surcoat of diapered\nsatin, 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.\n\n\"Heaven prosper thee,\" he answered, \"and be thou welcome. Dost thou\nbring any new tidings?\"'\n\n\"I do, lord,\" he said.\n\n\"I know thee not,\" said Arthur.\n\n\"It is a marvel to me that thou dost not know me. I am one of thy\nforesters, lord, in the Forest of Dean, and my name is Madawe, the son\nof Twrgadarn.\"\n\n\"Tell me thine errand,\" said Arthur.\n\n\"I will do so, lord,\" said he: \"in the forest I saw a stag the like of\nwhich beheld I never yet.\"\n\n\"What is there about him,\" asked Arthur, \"that thou never yet didst see\nhis like?\"\n\n\"He is of pure white, lord, and he does not herd with any other animal\nthrough stateliness and pride, so royal is his bearing. And I come to\nseek thy counsel, lord, and to know thy will concerning him.\"\n\n\"It seems best to me,\" said Arthur, \"to go and hunt him to-morrow at\nbreak of day, and to cause general notice thereof to be given to-night\nin all quarters of the court.\" And Arryfuerys was Arthur's chief\nhuntsman, and Arelivri was his chief page. And all received notice; and\nthus it was arranged. And they sent the youth before them.\n\nThen Gwenhwyvar said to Arthur, \"Wilt thou permit me, lord,\" said she,\n\"to go to-morrow to see and hear the hunt of the stag of which the\nyoung man spoke?\"\n\n\"I will gladly,\" said Arthur.\n\n\"Then will I go,\" said she.\n\nAnd Gwalchmai said to Arthur, \"Lord, if it seem well to thee, permit\nthat into whose hunt soever the stag shall come, that one, be he a\nknight, or one on foot, may cut off his head, and give it to whom he\npleases, whether to his own lady-love, or to the lady of his friend.\"\n\n\"I grant it gladly,\" said Arthur, \"and let the steward of the household\nbe chastised, if all are not ready to-morrow for the chase.\"\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\nthe attendants who guarded his couch. And these men came to Arthur\nand saluted him, and arrayed him in his garments. And Arthur wondered\nthat Gwenhwyvar did not awake, and did not move in her bed; and the\nattendants wished to awaken her. \"Disturb her not,\" said Arthur, \"for\nshe 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,\nand they took the road to the forest.\n\nAnd after Arthur had gone forth from the palace, Gwenhwyvar awoke,\nand called to her maidens, and apparelled herself. \"Maidens,\" said\nshe, \"I had leave last night to go and see the hunt. Go one of you\nto the stable, and order hither a horse such as a woman may ride.\"\nAnd one of them went, and she found but two horses in the stable; and\nGwenhwyvar and one of her maidens mounted them, and went through the\nUsk, and followed the track of the men and the horses. And as they\nrode thus, they heard a loud and rushing sound; and they looked behind\nthem, and beheld a knight upon a hunter-foal of mighty size; and the\nrider was a fair-haired youth, bare-legged, and of princely mien, and\na golden-hilted sword was at his side, and a robe and a surcoat of\nsatin were upon him, and two low shoes of leather upon his feet, and\naround him was a scarf of blue purple, at each corner of which was a\ngolden apple. And his horse stepped stately and swift and proud; and he\novertook Gwenhwyvar, and saluted her. \"Heaven prosper thee, Geraint,\"\nsaid she: \"I knew thee when first I saw thee just now. And the welcome\nof Heaven be unto thee. And why didst thou not go with thy lord to\nhunt?\"\n\n\"Because I knew not when he went,\" said he.\n\n\"I marvel too,\" said she, \"how he could go unknown to me.\"\n\n\"Indeed, lady!\" said he.\n\n\"I was asleep, and knew not when he went. And it may be that I shall\nbe more amused with the hunting than they; for we shall hear the horns\nwhen they sound, and we shall hear the dogs when they are let loose,\nand begin to cry.\" So they went to the edge of the forest, and there\nthey stood. \"From this place,\" said she, \"we shall hear when the dogs\nare let loose.\" And thereupon they heard a loud noise, and they looked\ntowards the spot whence it came, and they beheld a dwarf riding upon\na horse, stately, and foaming and prancing, and strong and spirited.\nAnd in the hand of the dwarf was a whip. And near the dwarf they saw a\nlady upon a beautiful white horse of steady and stately pace; and she\nwas clothed in a garment of gold brocade. And near her was a knight\nupon a war-horse of large size, with heavy and bright armor both upon\nhimself and upon his horse. And truly they never before saw a knight,\nor a horse, or armor, of such remarkable size. And they were all near\nto each other.\n\n\"Geraint,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"knowest thou the name of that tall knight\nyonder?\"\n\n\"I know him not,\" said he; \"and the strange armor that he wears\nprevents my either seeing his face or his features.\"\n\n\"Go, maiden,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"and ask the dwarf who that knight is.\"\nThen the maiden went up to the dwarf; and the dwarf waited for the\nmaiden when he saw her coming towards him. And the maiden inquired of\nthe dwarf who the knight was.\n\n\"I will not tell thee,\" he answered.\n\n\"Since thou art so churlish as not to tell me,\" said she, \"I will ask\nhim himself.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt not ask him, by my faith!\" said he.\n\n\"Wherefore?\" said she.\n\n\"Because thou art not of honor 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\nthe face and the eyes, until the blood flowed forth. And the maiden,\nthrough the hurt she received from the blow, returned to Gwenhwyvar,\ncomplaining of the pain.\n\n\"Very rudely has the dwarf treated thee,\" said Geraint. \"I will go\nmyself to know who the knight is.\"\n\n\"Go,\" said Gwenhwyvar. And Geraint went up to the dwarf.\n\n\"Who is yonder knight?\" said Geraint.\n\n\"I will not tell thee,\" said the dwarf.\n\n\"Then will I ask him himself,\" said he.\n\n\"That wilt thou not, by my faith!\" said the dwarf. \"Thou art not\nhonorable enough to speak with my lord.\"\n\nSaid Geraint, \"I have spoken with men of equal rank with him.\" And he\nturned his horse's head towards the knight; but the dwarf overtook him,\nand struck him as he had done the maiden, so that the blood colored the\nscarf that Geraint wore. Then Geraint put his hand upon the hilt of his\nsword; but he took counsel with himself, and considered that it would\nbe no vengeance for him to slay the dwarf, and to be attacked unarmed\nby the armed knight: so he returned to where Gwenhwyvar was.\n\n\"Thou hast acted wisely and discreetly,\" said she.\n\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"I will follow him yet, with thy permission; and at\nlast he will come to some inhabited place, where I may have arms either\nas a loan or for a pledge, so that I may encounter the knight.\"\n\n\"Go,\" said she, \"and do not attack him until thou hast good arms; and I\nshall be very anxious concerning thee until I hear tidings of thee.\"\n\n\"If I am alive,\" said he, \"thou shalt hear tidings of me by to-morrow\nafternoon.\" And with that he departed.\n\nAnd the road they took was below the palace of Caerlleon, and across\nthe ford of the Usk. And they went along a fair and even and lofty\nridge of ground until they came to a town, and at the extremity of the\ntown they saw a fortress and a castle. And they came to the extremity\nof the town. And as the knight passed through it, all the people arose\nand saluted him, and bade him welcome. And when Geraint came into the\ntown, he looked at every house to see if he knew any of those whom he\nsaw. But he knew none, and none knew him to do him the kindness to let\nhim have arms either as a loan or for a pledge. And every house he saw\nwas full of men and arms and horses. And they were polishing shields,\nand burnishing swords, and washing armor, and shoeing horses. And the\nknight and the lady and the dwarf rode up to the castle that was in the\ntown, 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\ncastle. And when he was certain that he would do so, he looked around\nhim; and at a little distance from the town he saw an old palace in\nruins, wherein was a hall that was falling to decay. And as he knew not\nany one in the town, he went towards the old palace; and when he came\nnear to the palace he saw but one chamber, and a bridge of marble-stone\nleading to it. And upon the bridge he saw sitting a hoary-headed man,\nupon whom were tattered garments. And Geraint gazed steadfastly upon\nhim for a long time. Then the hoary-headed man spoke to him. \"Young\nman,\" he said, \"wherefore art thou thoughtful?\"\n\n\"I am thoughtful,\" said he, \"because I know not where to go to-night.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou come forward this way, chieftain?\" said he, \"and thou shalt\nhave the best that can be procured for thee.\" So Geraint went forward.\nAnd the hoary-headed man preceded him into the hall. And in the hall he\ndismounted, and he left there his horse. Then he went on to the upper\nchamber with the hoary-headed man. And in the chamber he beheld an old\ndecrepit woman sitting on a cushion, with old, tattered garments of\nsatin upon her; and it seemed to him that he had never seen a woman\nfairer than she must have been when in the fulness of youth. And beside\nher was a maiden, upon whom were a vest and a veil that were old, and\nbeginning to be worn out. And truly he never saw a maiden more full of\ncomeliness and grace and beauty than she. And the hoary-headed man said\nto the maiden, \"There is no attendant for the horse of this youth but\nthyself.\"\n\n\"I will render the best service I am able,\" said she, \"both to him\nand to his horse.\" And the maiden disarrayed the youth, and then she\nfurnished his horse with straw and with corn. And she went to the hall\nas before, and then she returned to the chamber.\n\nAnd the hoary-headed man said to the maiden, \"Go to the town,\" said he,\n\"and bring hither the best that thou canst find both of food and of\nliquor.\"\n\n\"I will gladly, lord,\" said she. And to the town went the maiden. And\nthey conversed together while the maiden was at the town. And behold!\nthe maiden came back, and a youth with her, bearing on his back a\ncostrel full of good purchased mead, and a quarter of a young bullock.\nAnd in the hands of the maiden was a quantity of white bread, and she\nhad some manchet bread in her veil, and she came into the chamber.\n\n\"I could not obtain better than this,\" said she, \"nor with better\nshould I have been trusted.\"\n\n\"It is good enough,\" said Geraint. And they caused the meat to be\nboiled; and when their food was ready, they sat down. And it was on\nthis wise: Geraint sat between the hoary-headed man and his wife, and\nthe maiden served them. And they ate 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.\n\n\"Truly,\" said he, \"it was I that built it, and to me also belonged the\ncity and the castle which thou sawest.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Geraint, \"how is it that thou hast lost them now?\"\n\n\"I lost a great earldom as well as these,\" said he. \"And this is how\nI lost them. I had a nephew, the son of my brother, and I took his\npossessions to myself; and when he came to his strength, he demanded of\nme his property; but I withheld it from him. So he made war upon me,\nand wrested from me all that I possessed.\"\n\n\"Good sir,\" said Geraint, \"wilt thou tell me wherefore came the knight\nand the lady and the dwarf just now into the town, and what is the\npreparation which I saw and the putting of arms in order?\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" said he. \"The preparations are for the game that is to\nbe held to-morrow by the young earl, which will be on this wise. In the\nmidst of a meadow which is here, two forks will be set up, and upon the\ntwo forks a silver rod, and upon the silver rod a sparrow-hawk; and for\nthe sparrow-hawk there will be a tournament. And to the tournament will\ngo all the array thou didst see in the city, of men and of horses and\nof arms. And with each man will go the lady he loves best; and no man\ncan joust for the sparrow-hawk, except the lady he loves best be with\nhim. And the knight that thou sawest has gained the sparrow-hawk these\ntwo years; and if he gains it the third year, they will from that time\nsend it every year to him, and he himself will come here no more. And\nhe will be called the Knight of the Sparrow-hawk from that time forth.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Geraint, \"what is thy counsel to me concerning this knight,\non account of the insult which I received from the dwarf, and that\nwhich was received by the maiden of Gwenhwyvar, the wife of Arthur?\"\nAnd Geraint told the hoary-headed man what the insult was that he had\nreceived.\n\n\"It is not easy to counsel thee, inasmuch as thou hast neither dame nor\nmaiden belonging to thee for whom thou canst joust. Yet I have arms\nhere which thou couldest have, and there is my horse also, if he seem\nto thee better than thine own.\"\n\n\"Ah, sir,\" said he, \"Heaven reward thee! But my own horse, to which\nI am accustomed, together with thy arms, will suffice. And if, when\nthe appointed time shall come to-morrow, thou wilt permit me, sir, to\nchallenge for yonder maiden that is thy daughter, I will engage, if I\nescape from the tournament, to love the maiden as long as I live; and,\nif I do not escape, she will remain as before.\"\n\n\"Gladly will I permit thee,\" said the hoary-headed man. \"And since\nthou dost thus resolve, it is necessary that thy horse and arms\nshould be ready to-morrow at break of day. For then the Knight of the\nSparrow-hawk will make proclamation, and ask the lady he loves best to\ntake the sparrow-hawk. 'For,' will he say to her, 'thou art the fairest\nof women, and thou didst possess it last year and the year previous;\nand if any deny it thee to-day, by force will I defend it for thee.'\nAnd therefore,\" said the hoary-headed man, \"it is needful for thee to\nbe there at daybreak; and we three will be with thee.\" And thus was it\nsettled.\n\nAnd at night, lo! they went to sleep. And before the dawn they arose,\nand arrayed themselves; and by the time that it was day, they were all\nfour in the meadow. And there was the Knight of the Sparrow-hawk making\nthe proclamation, and asking his lady-love to fetch the sparrow-hawk.\n\n\"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\nit, than thou.\"\n\n\"If thou maintainest the sparrow-hawk to be due to her, come forward\nand do battle with me.\" And Geraint went forward to the top of the\nmeadow, having upon himself and upon his horse armor which was heavy\nand rusty and worthless, and of uncouth shape. Then they encountered\neach other, and they broke a set of lances, and they broke a second\nset, and a third. And thus they did at every onset, and they broke\nas 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\nwas shouting and joy and mirth amongst them. And the hoary-headed man\nand his wife and his daughter were sorrowful. And the hoary-headed\nman served Geraint lances as often as he broke them; and the dwarf\nserved the Knight of the Sparrow-hawk. Then the hoary-headed man came\nto Geraint. \"O chieftain!\" said he, \"since no other will hold with\nthee, behold, here is the lance which was in my hand on the day when I\nreceived the honor of knighthood; and from that time to this I never\nbroke it. And it has an excellent point.\" Then Geraint took the lance,\nthanking the hoary-headed man. And thereupon the dwarf also brought a\nlance to his lord.\n\n[Illustration: The Tournament for the Sparrow-hawk.]\n\n\"Behold, here is a lance for thee, not less good than his,\" said the\ndwarf. \"And bethink thee that no knight ever withstood thee before so\nlong as this one has done.\"\n\n\"I declare to Heaven,\" said Geraint, \"that, unless death takes me\nquickly hence, he shall fare never the better for thy service.\" And\nGeraint pricked his horse towards him from afar, and warning him, he\nrushed upon him, and gave him a blow so severe and furious and fierce,\nupon the face of his shield, that he cleft it in two, and broke his\narmor, and burst his girths, so that both he and his saddle were borne\nto the ground over the horse's crupper. And Geraint dismounted quickly.\nAnd he was wroth, and he drew his sword, and rushed fiercely upon him.\nThen the knight also arose, and drew his sword against Geraint. And\nthey fought on foot with their swords until their arms struck sparks\nof fire like stars from one another; and thus they continued fighting\nuntil the blood and sweat obscured the light from their eyes. And when\nGeraint prevailed, the hoary-headed man and his wife and his daughter\nwere glad; and when the knight prevailed, it rejoiced the earl and his\nparty.\n\nThen the hoary-headed man saw Geraint receive a severe stroke, and\nhe went up to him quickly, and said to him, \"O chieftain, remember\nthe treatment which thou hadst from the dwarf; and wilt thou not seek\nvengeance for the insult to thyself, and for the insult to Gwenhwyvar\nthe wife of Arthur?\"\n\nAnd Geraint was roused by what he said to him, and he called to him all\nhis strength, and lifted up his sword, and struck the knight upon the\ncrown of his head, so that he broke all his head-armor, and cut through\nall the flesh and the skin, even to the skull, until he wounded the\nbone.\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\nto commit myself to Heaven for my sins, and to talk with a priest, thy\nmercy will avail me little.\"\n\n\"I will grant thee grace upon this condition,\" said Geraint, \"that thou\nwilt go to Gwenhwyvar the wife of Arthur, to do her satisfaction for\nthe insult which her maiden received from thy dwarf. As to myself, for\nthe insult which I received from thee and thy dwarf, I am content with\nthat which I have done unto thee. Dismount not from the time thou goest\nhence until thou comest into the presence of Gwenhwyvar, to make her\nwhat atonement shall be adjudged at the court of Arthur.\"\n\n\"This will I do gladly. And who art thou?\" said he.\n\n\"I am Geraint the son of Erbin. And declare thou also who thou art.\"\n\n\"I am Edeyrn the son of Nudd.\" Then he threw himself upon his horse,\nand went forward to Arthur's court, and the lady he loved best went\nbefore him and the dwarf with much lamentation. And thus far this story\nup to that time.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen came the little earl and his hosts to Geraint, and saluted him,\nand bade him to his castle.\n\n\"I may not go,\" said Geraint; \"but where I was last night, there will I\nbe to-night also.\"\n\n\"Since thou wilt none of my inviting, thou shalt have abundance of all\nthat I can command for thee in the place thou wast last night. And I\nwill order ointment for thee, to recover thee from thy fatigues and\nfrom the weariness that is upon thee.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee!\" said Geraint, \"and I will go to my lodging.\" And\nthus went Geraint, and Earl Ynywl, and his wife, and his daughter. And\nwhen they reached the chamber, the household servants and attendants\nof the young earl had arrived at the court, and they arranged all the\nhouses, dressing them with straw and with fire. And in a short time the\nointment was ready, and Geraint came there, and they washed his head.\nThen came the young earl, with forty honorable knights from among his\nattendants, 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.\n\n\"Where is the Earl Ynywl,\" said Geraint, \"and his wife, and his\ndaughter?\"\n\n\"They are in the chamber yonder,\" said the earl's chamberlain,\n\"arraying themselves in garments which the earl has caused to be\nbrought for them.\"\n\n\"Let not the damsel array herself,\" said he, \"except in her vest\nand her veil, until she come to the court of Arthur to be clad by\nGwenhwyvar in such garments as she may choose.\" So the maiden did not\narray herself.\n\nThen they all entered the hall, and they washed, and went and sat down\nto meat. And thus they were seated: on one side of Geraint sat the\nyoung earl, and Earl Ynywl beyond him; and on the other side of Geraint\nwere the maiden and her mother. And after these, all sat according\nto their precedence in honor. 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\nhim next day.\n\n\"I will not, by Heaven!\" said Geraint. \"To the court of Arthur will I\ngo with this maiden to-morrow. And it is enough for me, as long as Earl\nYnywl is in poverty and trouble; and I go chiefly to seek to add to his\nmaintenance.\"\n\n\"Ah, chieftain!\" said the young earl, \"it is not by my fault that Earl\nYnywl is without his possessions.\"\n\n\"By my faith,\" said Geraint, \"he shall not remain without them, unless\ndeath quickly takes me hence.\"\n\n\"Oh, chieftain!\" said he, \"with regard to the disagreement between me\nand Ynywl, I will gladly abide by thy counsel, and agree to what thou\nmayest judge right between us.\"\n\n\"I but ask thee,\" said Geraint, \"to restore to him what is his, and\nwhat he should have received from the time he lost his possessions,\neven until this day.\"\n\n\"That I will do gladly for thee,\" answered he.\n\n\"Then,\" said Geraint, \"whosoever is here who owes homage to Ynywl, let\nhim come forward, and perform it on the spot.\" And all the men did so.\nAnd by that treaty they abided. And his castle, and his town, and all\nhis possessions, were restored to Ynywl. And he received back all that\nhe had 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\nupon thee.\"\n\n\"She shall go with me,\" said Geraint, \"to the court of Arthur; and\nArthur and Gwenhwyvar they shall dispose of her as they will.\" And the\nnext day they proceeded to Arthur's court. So far concerning Geraint.\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\nstag. And the last dog that was let loose was the favorite dog of\nArthur. Cavall[19] was his name. And he left all the other dogs behind\nhim, and turned the stag. And at the second turn, the stag came towards\nthe hunting-party of Arthur. And Arthur set upon him. And before he\ncould be slain by any other, Arthur cut off his head. Then they sounded\nthe death-horn for slaying, and they all gathered round.\n\n[Footnote 19: We have already become acquainted with Cavall at the\nhunting of the great boar in \"Kilhwch and Olwen.\"]\n\nThen came Kadyriaith to Arthur, and spoke to him. \"Lord,\" said he,\n\"behold, yonder is Gwenhwyvar, and none with her save only one maiden.\"\n\n\"Command Gildas the son of Caw, and all the scholars of the court,\"\nsaid Arthur, \"to attend Gwenhwyvar to the palace.\" And they did so.\n\nThen they all set forth, holding converse together concerning the head\nof the stag, to whom it should be given. One wished that it should be\ngiven to the lady best beloved by him, and another to the lady whom he\nloved best. And all they of the household, and the knights, disputed\nsharply concerning the head. And with that they came to the palace.\nAnd when Arthur and Gwenhwyvar heard them disputing about the head\nof the stag, Gwenhwyvar said to Arthur, \"My lord, this is my counsel\nconcerning the stag's head: let it not be given away until Geraint the\nson of Erbin shall return from the errand he is upon.\" And Gwenhwyvar\ntold Arthur what that errand was.\n\n\"Right gladly shall it be so,\" said Arthur. And thus it was settled.\nAnd the next day Gwenhwyvar caused a watch to be set upon the ramparts\nfor Geraint's coming. And after mid-day they beheld an unshapely little\nman upon a horse, and after him, as they supposed, a dame or a damsel,\nalso on horseback, and after her a knight of large stature, bowed\ndown, and hanging his head low and sorrowfully, and clad in broken and\nworthless armor.\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.\n\n\"But I know,\" said Gwenhwyvar. \"This is the knight whom Geraint\npursued: and methinks that he comes not here by his own free will; but\nGeraint has overtaken him, and avenged the insult to the maiden to the\nuttermost.\"\n\nAnd thereupon behold a porter came to the spot where Gwenhwyvar was.\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"at the gate there is a knight, and I saw never a man\nof so pitiful an aspect to look upon as he. Miserable and broken is the\narmor that he wears; and the hue of blood is more conspicuous upon it\nthan its own color.\"\n\n\"Knowest thou his name?\" said she.\n\n\"I do,\" said he. \"He tells me that he is Edeyrn the son of Nudd.\"\n\nThen she replied, \"I know him not.\"\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\nthough he was accompanied by the churlish dwarf. Then Edeyrn saluted\nGwenhwyvar. \"Heaven protect thee!\" said she.\n\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"Geraint the son of Erbin, thy best and most valiant\nservant, greets thee.\"\n\n\"Did he meet thee?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" said he, \"and it was not to my advantage; and that was not his\nfault, but mine, lady. And Geraint greets thee well; and in greeting\nthee he compelled me to come hither to do thy pleasure for the insult\nwhich thy maiden received from the dwarf. He forgives the insult to\nhimself in consideration of his having put me in peril of my life. And\nhe imposed on me a condition manly and honorable and warrior-like,\nwhich was to do thee justice, lady.\"\n\n\"Now, where did he overtake thee?\"\n\n\"At the place where we were jousting, and contending for the\nsparrow-hawk, in the town which is now called Cardiff. And there were\nnone with him save three persons of a mean and tattered condition. And\nthese were an aged, hoary-headed man, and a woman advanced in years,\nand a fair young maiden clad in worn-out garments. And it was for\nthe 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.\nAnd thereupon we encountered each other, and he left me, lady, as thou\nseest.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"when thinkest thou that Geraint will be here?\"\n\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\nknew him, he inquired of him, \"Art thou Edeyrn the son of Nudd?\"\n\n\"I am, lord,\" said he, \"and I have met with much trouble, and received\nwounds insupportable.\" Then he told Arthur all his adventure.\n\n\"Well,\" said Arthur, \"from what I hear, it behooves Gwenhwyvar to be\nmerciful towards thee.\"\n\n\"The mercy which thou desirest, lord,\" said she, \"will I grant to him,\nsince it is as insulting to thee that an insult should be offered to me\nas to thyself.\"\n\n\"Thus will it be best to do,\" said Arthur. \"Let this man have medical\ncare until it be known whether he may live. And, if he live, he shall\ndo such satisfaction as shall be judged best by the men of the court;\nand take thou sureties to that effect.\"\n\n\"This pleases me,\" said Gwenhwyvar. And Arthur became surety for\nEdeyrn, and Caradawc the son of Llyr, Gwallawg the son of Llenawg,\nand Owain the son of Nudd, and Gwalchmai, and many others with them.\nAnd Arthur caused Morgan Tud to be called to him. He was the chief\nphysician.\n\n\"Take with thee Edeyrn the son of Nudd, and cause a chamber to be\nprepared for him, and let him have the aid of medicine as thou wouldest\ndo unto myself, if I were wounded, and let none into his chamber\nto molest him, but thyself and thy disciples to administer to him\nremedies.\"\n\n\"I will do so gladly, lord,\" said Morgan Tud.\n\nThen said the steward of the household, \"Whither is it right, lord, to\norder the maiden?\"\n\n\"To Gwenhwyvar and her handmaidens,\" said he. And the steward of the\nhousehold so ordered her. Thus far concerning them.\n\nThe next day came Geraint towards the court; and there was a watch set\non the ramparts by Gwenhwyvar, lest he should arrive unawares. And\none of the watch came to the place where Gwenhwyvar was. \"Lady,\" said\nhe, \"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.\"\n\n\"Assemble all the women,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"and come to meet Geraint,\nto welcome him, and wish him joy.\" And Gwenhwyvar went to meet Geraint\nand the maiden. And when Geraint came to the place where Gwenhwyvar\nwas, he saluted her. \"Heaven prosper thee,\" said she, \"and welcome\nto thee. And thy career has been successful, and fortunate, and\nresistless, and glorious. And Heaven reward thee, that thou hast so\nproudly caused me to have retribution.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"I earnestly desired to obtain thee satisfaction\naccording to thy will; and behold, here is the maiden through whom thou\nhadst thy revenge.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"the welcome of Heaven be unto her! and it\nis fitting that we should receive her joyfully.\" Then they went in, and\ndismounted. And Geraint came to where Arthur was, and saluted him.\n\n\"Heaven protect thee,\" said Arthur, \"and the welcome of Heaven be unto\nthee! And since Edeyrn the son of Nudd has received his overthrow and\nwounds from thy hands, thou hast had a prosperous career.\"\n\n\"Not upon me be the blame!\" said Geraint. \"It was through the arrogance\nof Edeyrn the son of Nudd himself that we were not friends. I would not\nquit him until I knew who he was, and until the one had vanquished the\nother.\"\n\n\"Now,\" said Arthur, \"where is the maiden for whom I heard thou didst\ngive challenge?\"\n\n\"She is gone with Gwenhwyvar to her chamber.\"\n\nThen went Arthur to see the maiden. And Arthur, and all his companions,\nand his whole court, were glad concerning the maiden. And certain were\nthey all, that, had her array been suitable to her beauty, they had\nnever seen a maid fairer than she. And Arthur gave away the maiden to\nGeraint. And the usual bond made between two persons was made between\nGeraint and the maiden; and the choicest of all Gwenhwyvar's apparel\nwas given to the maiden; and thus arrayed, she appeared comely and\ngraceful to all who beheld her.\n\nAnd from that time she became his bride. And the next day Arthur\nsatisfied all the claimants upon Geraint with bountiful gifts. And the\nmaiden took up her abode in the palace; and she had many companions,\nboth men and women, and there was no maiden more esteemed than she in\nthe 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\nbe given to Enid the daughter of Ynywl, the most illustrious maiden.\nAnd I do not believe that any will begrudge it her; for between her\nand every one here there exists nothing but love and friendship.\" Much\napplauded was this by them all, and by Arthur also. And the head of\nthe stag was given to Enid; and thereupon her fame increased, and her\nfriends thenceforward became more in number than before. And Geraint\nfrom that time forth loved the stag, and the tournament, and hard\nencounters; and he came victorious from them all. And a year, and a\nsecond, and a third, he proceeded thus, until his fame had flown over\nthe face of the kingdom.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd once upon a time Arthur was holding his court at\nCaerlleon-upon-Usk, at Whitsuntide. And behold, there came to him\nambassadors, wise and prudent, full of knowledge, and eloquent of\nspeech, and they saluted Arthur. \"Heaven prosper you,\" said Arthur,\n\"and the welcome of Heaven be unto you! And whence do you come?\"\n\n\"We come, lord,\" said they, \"from Cornwall; and we are ambassadors from\nErbin the son of Custennin, thy uncle, and our mission is unto thee.\nAnd he greets thee well, as an uncle should greet his nephew, and as\na vassal should greet his lord. And he represents unto thee that he\nwaxes heavy and feeble, and is advancing in years. And the neighboring\nchiefs, knowing this, grow insolent towards him, and covet his land and\npossessions. And he earnestly beseeches thee, lord, to permit Geraint\nhis son to return to him to protect his possessions, and to become\nacquainted with his boundaries. And unto him he represents that it were\nbetter for him to spend the flower of his youth and the prime of his\nage in preserving his own boundaries than in tournaments, which are\nproductive of no profit, although 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\nyou go forth hence, you shall have an answer.\"\n\nAnd they went to eat. And Arthur considered that it would go hard with\nhim to let Geraint depart from him and from his court; neither did\nhe think it fair that his cousin should be restrained from going to\nprotect his dominions and his boundaries, seeing that his father was\nunable to do so. No less was the grief and regret of Gwenhwyvar, and\nall her women, and all her damsels, through fear that the maiden would\nleave them. And that day and that night were spent in abundance of\nfeasting. And Arthur showed Geraint the cause of the mission, and of\nthe coming of the ambassadors to him out of Cornwall.\n\n\"Truly,\" said Geraint, \"be it to my advantage or disadvantage, lord, I\nwill do according to thy will concerning this embassy.\"\n\n\"Behold,\" said Arthur, \"though it grieves me to part with thee, it is\nmy counsel that thou go to dwell in thine own dominions, and to defend\nthy boundaries, and to take with thee to accompany thee as many as thou\nwilt of those thou lovest best among my faithful ones, and among thy\nfriends, and among thy companions in arms.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee! And this will I do,\" said Geraint.\n\n\"What discourse,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"do I hear between you? Is it of\nthose who are to conduct Geraint to his country?\"\n\n\"It is,\" said Arthur.\n\n\"Then it is needful for me to consider,\" said she, \"concerning\ncompanions and a provision for the lady that is with me?\"\n\n\"Thou wilt do well,\" said Arthur.\n\nAnd that night they went to sleep. And the next day the ambassadors\nwere permitted to depart, and they were told that Geraint should follow\nthem. And on the third day Geraint set forth, and many went with him.\nGwalchmai the son of Gwyar, and Riogonedd the son of the King of\nIreland, and Ondyaw the son of the Duke of Burgundy, Gwilim the son of\nthe ruler of the Franks, Howel the son of Emyr of Brittany, Elivry, and\nNawkyrd, Gwynn the son of Tringad, Goreu the son of Custennin, Gweir\nGwrhyd Vawr, Garannaw the son of Golithmer, Peredur the son of Evrawc,\nGwynnllogell, Gwyr a judge in the court of Arthur, Dyvyr the son of\nAlun of Dyved, Gwrei Gwalstawd Ieithoedd, Bedwyr the son of Bedrawd,\nHadwry the son of Gwryon, Kai the son of Kynyr, Odyar the Frank, the\nsteward of Arthur's court, and Edeyrn the son of Nudd.\n\nSaid Geraint, \"I think that I shall have enough of knighthood with me.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Arthur; \"but it will not be fitting for thee to take Edeyrn\nwith thee, although he is well, until peace shall be made between him\nand Gwenhwyvar.\"\n\n\"Gwenhwyvar can permit him to go with me, if he give sureties.\"\n\n\"If she please, she can let him go without sureties; for enough of pain\nand affliction has he suffered for the insult which the maiden received\nfrom the dwarf.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Gwenhwyvar, \"since it seems well to thee and to Geraint,\nI will do this gladly, lord.\" Then she permitted Edeyrn freely to\ndepart. And many there were who accompanied Geraint, and they set\nforth; and never was there seen a fairer host journeying towards the\nSevern. And on the other side of the Severn were the nobles of Erbin\nthe son of Custennin, and his foster-father at their head, to welcome\nGeraint with gladness; and many of the women of the court, with his\nmother, came to receive Enid the daughter of Ynywl, his wife. And\nthere was great rejoicing and gladness throughout the whole court,\nand throughout all the country, concerning Geraint, because of the\ngreatness of their love towards him, and of the greatness of the fame\nwhich he had gained since he went from amongst them, and because he\nwas come to take possession of his dominions, and to preserve his\nboundaries. And they came to the court. And in the court they had ample\nentertainment, and a multitude of gifts, and abundance of liquor, and a\nsufficiency of service, and a variety of minstrelsy and of games. And\nto do honor to Geraint, all the chief men of the country were invited\nthat night to visit him. And they passed that day and that night in the\nutmost enjoyment.\n\nAnd at dawn next day Erbin arose, and summoned to him Geraint, and the\nnoble persons who had borne him company. And he said to Geraint, \"I am\na feeble and aged man, and, whilst I was able to maintain the dominion\nfor thee and for myself, I did so. But thou art young, and in the\nflower of thy vigor and of thy youth: henceforth do thou preserve thy\npossessions.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Geraint, \"with my consent thou shalt not give the power\nover thy dominions at this time into my hands, and thou shalt not take\nme from Arthur's court.\"\n\n\"Into thy hands will I give them,\" said Erbin; \"and this day also shalt\nthou 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.\nAnd of those who came to ask gifts none departed unsatisfied. And that\nday and that night were spent in the utmost enjoyment.\n\nAnd the next day, at dawn, Erbin desired Geraint to send messengers\nto the men to ask them whether it was displeasing to them that he\nshould come to receive their homage, and whether they had any thing to\nobject to him. Then Geraint sent ambassadors to the men of Cornwall\nto ask them this. And they all said that it would be the fulness of\njoy and honor to them for Geraint to come and receive their homage. So\nhe received the homage of such as were there. And they remained with\nhim till the third night. And the day after, the followers of Arthur\nintended to go away.\n\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.\n\nThen Ondyaw the son of the Duke of Burgundy said to Geraint, \"Go first\nof all, and visit the uttermost parts of thy dominions, and see well\nto the boundaries of thy territories; and, if thou hast any trouble\nrespecting them, send unto thy companions.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee!\" said Geraint. \"And this will I do.\" And Geraint\njourneyed to the uttermost part of his dominions. And experienced\nguides, and the chief men of his country, went with him. And the\nfurthermost point that they showed him he kept possession 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\nmighty men, until he had gained as much fame there as he had formerly\ndone elsewhere. 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\nthe face of the whole kingdom. And when he knew that it was thus, he\nbegan to love ease and pleasure, for there was no one who was worth\nhis opposing. And he loved his wife, and liked to continue in the\npalace, with minstrelsy and diversions. And for a long time he abode\nat home. And he took no delight in any thing besides, insomuch that he\ngave up the friendship of his nobles, together with his hunting and\nhis amusements, and lost the hearts of all the host in his court. And\nthere was murmuring and scoffing concerning him among the inhabitants\nof the palace, on account of his relinquishing so completely their\ncompanionship for the love of his wife. And these tidings came to\nErbin. And when Erbin had heard these things, he spoke unto Enid, and\ninquired of her whether it was she that had caused Geraint to act thus,\nand to forsake his people and his hosts.\n\n\"Not I, by my confession unto Heaven!\" said she. \"There is nothing\nmore hateful to me than this.\" And she knew not what she should do,\nfor, although it was hard for her to own this to Geraint, yet was it\nnot 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, Enid was without sleep in the\napartment which had windows of glass. And the sun shone upon the\ncouch. And the clothes had slipped from off his arms and his breast,\nand he was asleep. Then she gazed upon the marvellous beauty of his\nappearance, and she said, \"Alas! and am I the cause that these arms\nand this breast have lost their glory and the warlike fame which they\nonce so richly enjoyed?\" And as she said this, the tears dropped from\nher eyes, and they fell upon his breast. And the tears she shed, and\nthe words she had spoken, awoke him. And another thing contributed to\nawaken him, and that was the idea that it was not in thinking of him\nthat she spoke thus, but that it was because she loved some other man\nmore than him.\n\nAnd thereupon Geraint was troubled in his mind, and he called his\nsquire. And when he came to him, \"Go quickly,\" said he \"and prepare my\nhorse and my arms, and make them ready.--And do thou arise,\" said he\nto Enid, \"and apparel thyself; and cause thy horse to be accoutred,\nand clothe thee in the worst riding-dress that thou hast in thy\npossession. And evil betide me,\" said he, \"if thou returnest here until\nthou 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.\"\n\nSo she arose, and clothed herself in her meanest garments. \"I know\nnothing, lord,\" said she, \"of thy meaning.\"\n\n\"Neither wilt thou know at this time,\" 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.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" said he; \"but it is strange to me that thou shouldest\ngo so suddenly. And who will proceed with thee, since thou art not\nstrong enough to traverse the land of Lloegyr alone?\"\n\n\"But one person only will go with me.\"\n\n\"Heaven counsel thee, my son!\" said Erbin. \"And may many attach\nthemselves to thee in Lloegyr!\"\n\nThen went Geraint to the place where his horse was, and it was equipped\nwith foreign armor, heavy and shining. And he desired Enid to mount her\nhorse, and to ride forward, and to keep a long way before him. \"And\nwhatever thou mayest see, and whatever thou mayest hear concerning me,\"\nsaid he, \"do thou not turn back. And unless I speak unto thee, say not\nthou one word, either.\" And they set forward. And he did not choose the\npleasantest 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;\nand they went towards it, and they saw four armed horsemen come forth\nfrom the forest.\n\nWhen the horsemen had beheld them, one of them said to the others,\n\"Behold, here is a good occasion for us to capture two horses and\narmor, and a lady likewise; for this we shall have no difficulty in\ndoing against yonder single knight, who hangs his head so pensively and\nheavily.\"\n\nAnd Enid heard this discourse, and she knew not what she should do\nthrough fear of Geraint, who had told her to be silent. \"The vengeance\nof Heaven be upon me,\" she said, \"if I would not rather receive my\ndeath 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\nto witness his death.\" So she waited for Geraint until he came near\nto her. \"Lord,\" said she, \"didst thou hear the words of those men\nconcerning thee?\"\n\nThen he lifted up his eyes, and looked at her angrily. \"Thou hadst\nonly,\" said he, \"to hold thy peace as I bade thee. I wish but for\nsilence, and not for warning. And though thou shouldest desire to see\nmy defeat and my death by the hands of those men, yet do I feel no\ndread.\"\n\nThen the foremost of them couched his lance, and rushed upon Geraint.\nAnd he received him, and that not feebly. But he let the thrust go by\nhim, while he struck the horseman upon the centre of his shield in\nsuch a manner that his shield was split, and his armor broken, and so\nthat a cubit's length of the shaft of Geraint's lance passed through\nhis body, and sent him to the earth the length of the lance over his\nhorse's crupper. Then the second horseman attacked him furiously,\nbeing wroth at the death of his companion. But with one thrust Geraint\noverthrew him also, and killed him as he had done the other. Then the\nthird set upon him, and he killed him in like manner. And thus also he\nslew the fourth. Sad and sorrowful was the maiden as she saw all this.\nGeraint dismounted from his horse, and took the arms of the men he had\nslain, and placed them upon their saddles, and tied together the reins\nof their horses, and he mounted his horse again. \"Behold, what thou\nmust do,\" said he; \"take the four horses, and drive them before thee,\nand proceed forward, as I bade thee just now. And say not one word unto\nme, unless I speak first unto thee. And I declare unto Heaven,\" said\nhe, \"if thou doest not thus, it will be to thy cost.\"\n\n\"I will do, as far as I can, lord,\" said she, \"according to thy desire.\"\n\nThen they went forward through the forest; and when they left the\nforest, they came to a vast plain, in the centre of which was a group\nof thickly tangled copse-wood; and from out thereof they beheld three\nhorsemen coming towards them, well equipped with armor, both they and\ntheir horses. Then the maiden looked steadfastly upon them; and when\nthey had come near, she heard them say one to another, \"Behold, here\nis a good arrival for us: here are coming for us four horses and four\nsuits of armor. We shall easily obtain them, spite of yonder dolorous\nknight, and the maiden also will fall into our power.\"\n\n\"This is but too true,\" said she to herself; \"for my husband is tired\nwith his former combat. The vengeance of Heaven will be upon me unless\nI warn him of this.\" So the maiden waited until Geraint came up to\nher. \"Lord,\" said she, \"dost thou not hear the discourse of yonder men\nconcerning thee?\"\n\n\"What was it?\" asked he.\n\n\"They say to one another, that they will easily obtain all this spoil.\"\n\n\"I declare to Heaven,\" he answered, \"that their words are less grievous\nto me than that thou wilt not be silent, and abide by my counsel.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said she, \"I feared lest they should surprise thee unawares.\"\n\n\"Hold thy peace, then!\" said he. \"Do not I desire silence?\"\n\nAnd thereupon one of the horsemen couched his lance, and attacked\nGeraint. And he made a thrust at him which he thought would be very\neffective. But Geraint received it carelessly, and struck it aside; and\nthen he rushed upon him, and aimed at the centre of his person, and\nfrom the shock of man and horse the quantity of his armor did not avail\nhim, and the head of the lance and part of the shaft passed through\nhim, so that he was carried to the ground an arm and a spear's length\nover the crupper of his horse. And both the other horsemen came forward\nin their turn; but their onset was not more successful than that of\ntheir companion. And the maiden stood by, looking at all this; and on\nthe one hand she was in trouble lest Geraint should be wounded in his\nencounter with the men, and on the other hand she was joyful to see him\nvictorious. Then Geraint dismounted, and bound the three suits of armor\nupon the three saddles, and he fastened the reins of all the horses\ntogether, so that he had seven horses with him. And he mounted his own\nhorse, and commanded the maiden to drive forward the others. \"It is no\nmore use for me to speak to thee than to refrain; for thou wilt not\nattend to my advice.\"\n\n\"I will do so, as far as I am able, lord,\" said she; \"but I cannot\nconceal from thee the fierce and threatening words which I may hear\nagainst thee, lord, from such strange people as those that haunt this\nwilderness.\"\n\n\"I declare to Heaven,\" said he, \"that I desire nought but silence:\ntherefore hold thy peace.\"\n\n\"I will, lord, while I can.\" And the maiden went on with the horses\nbefore her, and she pursued her way straight onwards. And from the\ncopse-wood already mentioned they journeyed over a vast and dreary open\nplain. And at a great distance from them they beheld a wood, and they\ncould see neither end nor boundary to the wood, except on that side\nthat was nearest to them, and they went towards it. Then there came\nfrom out the wood five horsemen, eager and bold, and mighty and strong,\nmounted upon chargers that were powerful, and large of bone, and high\nmettled, and proudly snorting; and both the men and the horses were\nwell equipped with arms. And when they drew near to them, Enid heard\nthem say, \"Behold, here is a fine booty coming to us, which we shall\nobtain easily and without labor, for we shall have no trouble in taking\nall those horses and arms, and the lady also, from yonder single knight\nso doleful and sad.\"\n\nSorely grieved was the maiden upon hearing this discourse, so that\nshe knew 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\nsaid concerning thee, thy heaviness would be greater than it is.\"\n\nAngrily and bitterly did Geraint smile upon her, and he said, \"Thee do\nI hear doing every thing that I forbade thee; but it may be that thou\nwilt repent this yet.\"\n\nAnd immediately, behold, the men met them; and victoriously and\ngallantly did Geraint overcome them all five. And he placed the five\nsuits of armor upon the five saddles, and tied together the reins of\nthe twelve horses, and gave them in charge to Enid. \"I know not,\" said\nhe, \"what good it is for me to order thee; but this time I charge thee\nin an especial manner.\"\n\nSo the maiden went forward towards the wood, keeping in advance of\nGeraint, as he had desired her; and it grieved him as much as his wrath\nwould permit to see a maiden so illustrious as she having so much\ntrouble with the care of the horses. Then they reached the wood, and\nit was both deep and vast; and in the wood night overtook them. \"Ah,\nmaiden,\" said he, \"it is vain to attempt proceeding forward!\"\n\n\"Well, lord,\" said she, \"whatsoever thou wishest, we will do.\"\n\n\"It will be best for us,\" he answered, \"to turn out of the wood, and to\nrest, and wait for the day, in order to pursue our journey.\"\n\n\"That will we gladly,\" said she. And they did so.\n\nHaving dismounted himself, he took her down from her horse. \"I cannot\nby any means refrain from sleep, through weariness,\" said he. \"Do thou,\ntherefore, watch the horses, and sleep not.\"\n\n\"I will, lord,\" said she. Then he went to sleep in his armor; and thus\npassed the night, which was not long at that season. And when she saw\nthe dawn of day appear, she looked around her to see if he were waking,\nand thereupon he woke. \"My lord,\" she said, \"I have desired to awake\nthee for some time.\"\n\nBut he spake nothing to her about fatigue, as he had desired her to be\nsilent. Then he arose, and said unto her, \"Take the horses and ride on;\nand keep straight on before thee, as thou didst yesterday.\"\n\nAnd early in the day they left the wood, and they came to an open\ncountry, with meadows on one hand, and mowers mowing the meadows. And\nthere was a river before them, and the horses bent down, and drank the\nwater. And they went up out of the river by a lofty steep; and there\nthey met a slender stripling, with a satchel about his neck, and they\nsaw that there was something in the satchel, but they knew not what it\nwas. And he had a small blue pitcher in his hand, and a bowl on the\nmouth of the pitcher. And the youth saluted Geraint.\n\n\"Heaven prosper thee!\" said Geraint. \"And whence dost thou come?\"\n\n\"I come,\" said he, \"from the city that lies before thee. My lord,\" he\nadded, \"will it be displeasing to thee if I ask whence thou comest\nalso?\"\n\n\"By no means. Through yonder wood did I come.\"\n\n\"Thou camest not through the wood to-day.\"\n\n\"No,\" he replied. \"We were in the wood last night.\"\n\n\"I warrant,\" said the youth, \"that thy condition there last night was\nnot the most pleasant, and that thou hadst neither meat nor drink.\"\n\n\"No, by my faith!\" said he.\n\n\"Wilt thou follow my counsel,\" said the youth, \"and take thy meal from\nme?\"\n\n\"What sort of meal?\" he inquired.\n\n\"The breakfast which is sent for yonder mowers; nothing less than bread\nand meat and wine. And if thou wilt, sir, they shall have none of it.\"\n\n\"I will,\" 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.\n\nAnd when they had finished, the youth arose, and said to Geraint, \"My\nlord, with thy permission, I will now go and fetch some food for the\nmowers.\"\n\n\"Go first to the town,\" said Geraint, \"and take a lodging for me in\nthe best place that thou knowest, and the most commodious one for the\nhorses, and take thou whichever horse and arms thou choosest in payment\nfor thy service and thy gift.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee, lord!\" said the youth. \"And this would be ample to\nrepay services much greater than those I have rendered unto thee.\"\n\nAnd to the town went the youth, and he took the best and the most\npleasant lodgings that he knew; and after that he went to the palace,\nhaving the horse and armor with him, and proceeded to the place where\nthe earl was, and told him all his adventure. \"I go now, lord,\" said\nhe, \"to meet the young man, and to conduct him to his lodging.\"\n\n\"Go gladly,\" said the earl; \"and right joyfully shall he be received\nhere, if he so come.\"\n\nAnd the youth went to meet Geraint, and told him that he would be\nreceived gladly by the earl in his own palace, but he would go only\nto his lodgings. And he had a goodly chamber, in which was plenty of\nstraw, and drapery, and a spacious and commodious place he had for the\nhorses; and the youth prepared for them plenty of provender.\n\nAnd after they had disarrayed themselves, Geraint spoke thus to Enid:\n\"Go,\" said he, \"to the other side of the chamber, and come not to this\nside of the house; and thou mayest call to thee the woman of the house,\nif thou wilt.\"\n\n\"I will do, lord,\" said she, \"as thou sayest.\"\n\nAnd thereupon the man of the house came to Geraint, and welcomed him.\n\"O chieftain!\" he said, \"hast thou taken thy meal?\"\n\n\"I have,\" said he. Then the youth spoke to him, and inquired if he\nwould not drink something before he met the earl. \"Truly I will,\" said\nhe.\n\nSo the youth went into the town, and brought them drink. And they drank.\n\n\"I must needs sleep,\" said Geraint.\n\n\"Well,\" said the youth. \"And whilst thou sleepest, I will go to see the\nearl.\"\n\n\"Go gladly,\" he said, \"and come here again when I require thee.\" And\nGeraint 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\ngo,\" said the youth, \"to wait on him in the evening.\"\n\n\"Go,\" answered the earl, \"and greet him well from me, and tell him\nthat in the evening I will go to see him.\"\n\n\"This will I do,\" said the youth. So he came when it was time for them\nto awake. And they arose and went forth. And when it was time for them\nto take their food, they took it. And the youth served them.\n\nAnd Geraint inquired of the man of the house whether there were any of\nhis companions that he wished to invite to him, and he said that there\nwere. \"Bring them hither, and entertain them at my cost with the best\nthou 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 honorable knights with him. And Geraint rose up\nand welcomed him.\n\n\"Heaven preserve thee!\" said the Earl. Then they all sat down according\nto their precedence in honor. And the earl conversed with Geraint, and\ninquired of him the object of his journey.\n\n\"I have none,\" he replied, \"but to seek adventures, and to follow my\nown inclination.\"\n\nThen the earl cast his eye upon Enid, and he looked at her steadfastly.\nAnd he thought he had never seen a maiden fairer or more comely\nthan her. So he arose, and took his leave, and went forth with his\nattendants. And she told not then to Geraint any of the conversation\nwhich she had had with the earl, lest it should rouse his anger, and\ncause 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 armor 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 [that the earl was coming\nwith a troop of followers on the morrow to take her away by force].\n\nAnd, although he was wroth with her, he took warning, and clothed\nhimself. And she lighted a candle, that he might have light to do so.\n\n\"Leave there the candle,\" said he, \"and desire the man of the house to\ncome here.\" Then she went, and the man of the house came to him. \"Dost\nthou know how much I owe thee?\" asked Geraint.\n\n\"I think thou owest but little.\"\n\n\"Take the eleven horses and the eleven suits of armor.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee, lord!\" said he. \"But I spent not the value of one\nsuit of armor upon thee.\"\n\n\"For that reason,\" said he, \"thou wilt be the richer. And now wilt thou\ncome to guide me out of the town?\"\n\n\"I will gladly,\" said he. \"And in which direction dost thou intend to\ngo?\"\n\n\"I wish to leave the town by a different way from that by which I\nentered it.\" So the man of the lodgings accompanied him as far as he\ndesired. Then he bade the maiden to go on before him. And she did so,\nand went straight forward, and his host returned home. And he had only\njust reached his house, when, behold, the greatest tumult approached\nthat was ever heard. And when he looked out, he saw fourscore knights\nin complete armor around the house, with the Earl Dwrm at their head.\n\n\"Where is the knight that was here?\" said the earl.\n\n\"By thy hand,\" said he, \"he went hence some time ago.\"\n\n\"Wherefore, villain,\" said he, \"didst thou let him go without informing\nme?\"\n\n\"My lord, thou didst not command me to do so, else would I not have\nallowed him to depart.\"\n\n\"What way dost thou think that he took?\"\n\n\"I know not, except that he went along the high road.\"\n\nAnd they turned their horses' heads that way, and seeing the tracks\nof the horses upon the high road, they followed. And when the maiden\nbeheld the dawning of the day, she looked behind her, and saw vast\nclouds of dust coming nearer and nearer to her. And thereupon she\nbecame uneasy, and she thought that it was the earl and his host coming\nafter them. And thereupon she beheld a knight appearing through the\nmist. \"By my faith!\" said she, \"though he should slay me, it were\nbetter for me to receive my death at his hands than to see him killed\nwithout warning him.--My lord,\" she said to him, \"seest thou yonder man\nhastening after thee, and many others with him?\"\n\n\"I do see him,\" said he; \"and, in despite of all my orders, I see that\nthou wilt never keep silence.\" Then he turned upon the knight, and with\nthe first thrust he threw him down under his horse's feet. And as long\nas there remained one of the fourscore knights, he overthrew every one\nof them at the first onset. And from the weakest to the strongest, they\nall attacked him one after the other, except the earl. And last of all\nthe earl came against him also. And he broke his lance, and then he\nbroke a second. But Geraint turned upon him, and struck him with his\nlance upon the centre of his shield, so that by that single thrust the\nshield was split, and all his armor broken, and he himself was brought\nover his horse's crupper to the ground, and was in peril of his life.\nAnd Geraint drew near to him; and at the noise of the trampling of his\nhorse the earl revived.\n\n\"Mercy, lord!\" said he to Geraint.\n\nAnd Geraint granted him mercy. But through the hardness of the ground\nwhere they had fallen, and the violence of the stroke which they had\nreceived, 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\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\nthe fairest ever seen, and which had a large river running through it;\nand there was a bridge over the river, and the high road led to the\nbridge. And above the bridge, upon the opposite side of the river, they\nbeheld a fortified town, the fairest ever seen. And as they approached\nthe bridge, Geraint saw coming towards him from a thick copse a man\nmounted upon a large and lofty steed, even of pace, and spirited,\nthough tractable. \"Ah, knight!\" said Geraint, \"whence comest thou?\"\n\n\"I come,\" said he, \"from the valley below us.\"\n\n\"Canst thou tell me,\" said Geraint, \"who is the owner of this fair\nvalley and yonder walled town?\"\n\n\"I will tell thee willingly,\" said he. \"Gwiffert Petit he is called by\nthe Franks; but the Cymry call him the Little King.\"\n\n\"Can I go by yonder bridge,\" said Geraint, \"and by the lower highway\nthat is beneath the town?\"\n\nSaid the knight, \"Thou canst not go by his tower 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.\"\n\n\"I declare to Heaven,\" said Geraint, \"that I will, nevertheless, pursue\nmy journey that way.\"\n\n\"If thou dost so,\" said the knight, \"thou wilt probably meet with shame\nand disgrace in reward for thy daring.\"\n\nThen Geraint proceeded along the road that led to the town; and the\nroad brought him to a ground that was hard and rugged and high and\nridgy. And as he journeyed thus, he beheld a knight following him upon\na war-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\nwas upon the horse. And both he and his horse were completely armed.\n\nWhen he had overtaken Geraint, he said to him, \"Tell me, chieftain,\nwhether it is through ignorance or through presumption that thou\nseekest to insult my dignity and to infringe my rules.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" answered Geraint, \"I knew not this road was forbid to any.\"\n\n\"Thou didst know it,\" said the other. \"Come with me to my court, to\ngive me satisfaction.\"\n\n\"That will I not, by my faith!\" said Geraint. \"I would not go even to\nthy lord's court, excepting Arthur were thy lord.\"\n\n\"By the hand of Arthur himself,\" said the knight, \"I will have\nsatisfaction of thee, or receive my overthrow at thy hands!\" And\nimmediately they charged one another. And a squire of his came to\nserve him with lances as he broke them. And they gave each other such\nhard and severe strokes, that their shields lost all their color. But\nit was very difficult for Geraint to fight with him on account of his\nsmall size; for he was hardly able to get a full aim at him with all\nthe efforts he could make. And they fought thus until their horses were\nbrought down upon their knees. And at length Geraint threw the knight\nheadlong to the ground; and then they fought on foot, and they gave one\nanother blows so boldly fierce, so frequent, and so severely powerful,\nthat their helmets were pierced, and their skullcaps were broken, and\ntheir arms were shattered, and the light of their eyes was darkened\nby sweat and blood. At the last Geraint became enraged, and he called\nto him all his strength. And boldly angry, and swiftly resolute, and\nfuriously determined, he lifted up his sword, and struck him on the\ncrown of his head a blow so mortally painful, so violent, so fierce,\nand so penetrating, that it cut through all his head armor, and his\nskin, and his flesh, until it wounded the very bone, and the sword flew\nout 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\nhim.\n\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.\"\n\n\"This will I do gladly, lord,\" said he. So he pledged him his faith\nthereof. \"And now, lord, come with me,\" said he, \"to my court yonder,\nto recover from thy weariness and fatigue.\"\n\n\"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 a while; for, if thou meetest with any difficulty in thy\npresent condition, it will not be easy for thee to surmount it.\"\n\nBut Geraint would do no other than proceed on his journey, and he\nmounted his horse in pain, and all covered with blood. And the maiden\nwent on first, and they proceeded towards the wood which they saw\nbefore them.\n\nAnd the heat of the sun was very great, and through the blood and\nsweat, Geraint's armor cleaved to his flesh. And when they came into\nthe wood, he stood under a tree, to avoid the sun's heat; and his\nwounds pained him more than they had done at the time when he received\nthem. And the maiden stood under another tree. And, lo! they heard the\nsound of horns, and a tumultuous noise; and the occasion of it was that\nArthur and his company had come down to the wood. And while Geraint was\nconsidering which way he should go to avoid them, behold, he was espied\nby a foot-page, who was an attendant on the steward of the household;\nand he went to the steward, and told him what kind of man he had seen\nin the wood.\n\n[Illustration: Geraint and the Maiden at the Edge of the Wood.]\n\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?\"\n\n\"I am standing under a shady tree to avoid the heat and the rays of the\nsun.\"\n\n\"Wherefore is thy journey? and who art thou?\"\n\n\"I seek adventures, and go where I list.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" said Kai. \"Then come with me to see Arthur, who is here hard\nby.\"\n\n\"That will I not, by Heaven!\" said Geraint.\n\n\"Thou must needs come,\" said Kai. Then Geraint knew who he was; but Kai\ndid not know Geraint. And Kai attacked Geraint as best he could. And\nGeraint became wroth, and he struck him with the shaft of his lance, so\nthat he rolled headlong to the ground. But chastisement worse than this\nwould 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. \"O sir!\" said\nhe to Gwalchmai, \"I was told by one of the attendants, that he saw in\nthe wood above a wounded knight, having on battered armor; and if thou\ndost right, thou wilt go and see if this be true.\"\n\n\"I care not if I do so,\" said Gwalchmai.\n\n\"Take, then, thy horse, and some of thy armor,\" said Kai; \"for I hear\nthat he is not over courteous to those who approach him.\"\n\nSo Gwalchmai took his spear and his shield, and mounted his horse, and\ncame to the spot where Geraint was. \"Sir knight,\" said he, \"wherefore\nis thy journey?\"\n\n\"I journey for my own pleasure, and to seek the adventures of the\nworld.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou tell me who thou art? or wilt thou come and visit Arthur,\nwho is near at hand?\"\n\n\"I will make no alliance with thee, nor will I go and visit Arthur,\"\nsaid he. And he knew that it was Gwalchmai; but Gwalchmai knew him not.\n\n\"I purpose not to leave thee,\" said Gwalchmai, \"till I know who thou\nart.\" And he charged him with his lance, and struck him on his shield,\nso that the shaft was shivered into splinters, and their horses were\nfront to front. Then Gwalchmai gazed fixedly upon him, and he knew him.\n\"Ah, Geraint!\" said he, \"is it thou that art here?\"\n\n\"I am not Geraint,\" said he.\n\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.\"\n\n\"I will not,\" said he; \"for I am not in a fit state to go and see\nany one.\" Thereupon, behold one of the pages came after Gwalchmai\nto speak to him. So he sent him to apprise Arthur that Geraint was\nthere wounded, and that he would not go to visit him, and that it was\npitiable to see the plight that he was in. And this he did without\nGeraint's knowledge, inasmuch as he spoke in a whisper to the page.\n\"Entreat Arthur,\" said he, \"to have his tent brought near to the road,\nfor he will not meet him willingly, and it is not easy to compel him\nin the mood he is in.\" So the page came to Arthur, and told him this.\nAnd he caused his tent to be removed unto the side of the road. And the\nmaiden rejoiced in her heart. And Gwalchmai led Geraint onwards along\nthe road, till they came to the place where Arthur was encamped, and\nthe pages were pitching his tent by the roadside.\n\n\"Lord,\" said Geraint, \"all hail unto thee!\"\n\n\"Heaven prosper thee! And who art thou?\" said Arthur.\n\n\"It is Geraint,\" said Gwalchmai; \"and of his own free will would he not\ncome to meet thee.\"\n\n\"Verily,\" said Arthur, \"he is bereft of his reason.\"\n\nThen came Enid, and saluted Arthur. \"Heaven protect thee!\" said he. And\nthereupon he caused one of the pages to take her from her horse. \"Alas,\nEnid!\" said Arthur, \"what expedition is this?\"\n\n\"I know not, lord,\" said she, \"save that it behooves me to journey by\nthe same road that he journeys.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Geraint, \"with thy permission we will depart.\"\n\n\"Whither wilt thou go?\" said Arthur. \"Thou canst not proceed now,\nunless it be unto thy death.\"\n\n\"He will not suffer himself to be invited by me,\" said Gwalchmai.\n\n\"But by me he will,\" said Arthur; \"and moreover he does not go from\nhere until he is healed.\"\n\n\"I had rather, lord,\" said Geraint, \"that thou wouldest let me go\nforth.\"\n\n\"That will I not, I declare to Heaven!\" said he. Then he caused a\nmaiden to be sent for to conduct Enid to the tent where Gwenhwyvar's\nchamber was. And Gwenhwyvar and all her women were joyful at her\ncoming; and they took off her riding-dress, and placed other garments\nupon her. Arthur also called Kadyrieith, and ordered him to pitch a\ntent for Geraint and the physicians; and he enjoined him to provide him\nwith abundance of all that might be requisite for him. And Kadyrieith\ndid as he had commanded him. And Morgan Tud and his disciples were\nbrought 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.\n\n\"I know not if thou art quite well.\"\n\n\"In truth I am, lord,\" said Geraint.\n\n\"I shall not believe thee concerning that, but the physicians that were\nwith thee.\" So Arthur caused the physicians to be summoned to him, and\nasked them if it were true.\n\n\"It is true, lord,\" said Morgan Tud. So the next day Arthur permitted\nhim to go forth, and he pursued his journey. And on the same day Arthur\nremoved thence.\n\nAnd Geraint desired Enid to go on, and to keep before him, as she had\nformerly done. And she went forward along the high road. And as they\njourneyed thus, they heard an exceeding loud wailing near to them.\n\"Stay thou here,\" said he, \"and I will go and see what is the cause of\nthis wailing.\"\n\n\"I will,\" said she.\n\nThen he went forward unto an open glade that was near the road. And in\nthe glade he saw two horses, one having a man's saddle, and the other\na woman's saddle upon it. And, behold, there was a knight lying dead\nin his armor, and a young damsel in a riding-dress standing over him,\nlamenting. \"Ah, lady!\" said Geraint, \"what hath befallen thee?\"\n\n\"Behold,\" she answered, \"I journeyed here with my beloved husband,\nwhen, lo! three giants came upon us, and without any cause in the world\nthey slew him.\"\n\n\"Which way went they hence?\" said Geraint.\n\n\"Yonder by the high road,\" she replied.\n\nSo he returned to Enid. \"Go,\" said he, \"to the lady that is below\nyonder, and await me there till I come.\"\n\nShe was sad when he ordered her to do thus; but nevertheless she went\nto the damsel, whom it was ruth to hear, and she felt certain that\nGeraint would never return. Meanwhile Geraint followed the giants, and\novertook them. And each of them was greater of stature than three other\nmen, and a huge club was on the shoulder of each. Then he rushed upon\none of them, and thrust his lance through his body. And having drawn\nit forth again, he pierced another of them through likewise. But the\nthird turned upon him, and struck him with his club; so that he split\nhis shield, and crushed his shoulder, and opened his wounds anew, and\nall his blood began to flow from him. But Geraint drew his sword, and\nattacked the giant, and gave him a blow on the crown of his head so\nsevere and fierce and violent, that his head and his neck were split\ndown to his shoulders, and he fell dead. So Geraint left him thus, and\nreturned to Enid. And when he saw her, he fell down lifeless from his\nhorse. Piercing and loud and thrilling was the cry that Enid uttered.\nAnd she came and stood over him where he had fallen. And at the sound\nof her cries came the Earl of Limours, and the host that journeyed with\nhim, whom her lamentations brought out of their road. And the earl said\nto Enid, \"Alas, lady! what hath befallen thee?\"\n\n\"Ah, good sir!\" said she, \"the only man I have loved, or ever shall\nlove, is slain.\"\n\nThen he said to the other, \"And what is the cause of thy grief?\"\n\n\"They have slain my beloved husband also,\" said she.\n\n\"And who was it that slew them?\"\n\n\"Some giants,\" she answered, \"slew my best-beloved; and the other\nknight went in pursuit of them, and came back in the state thou seest,\nhis blood flowing excessively. But it appears to me that he did not\nleave 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,\nhe had him carried with him in the hollow of his shield, and upon a\nbier. And the two damsels went to the court; and when they arrived\nthere, Geraint was placed upon a litter-couch in front of the table\nthat was in the hall. Then they all took off their travelling-gear,\nand the earl besought Enid to do the same, and to clothe her self in\nother garments.\n\n\"I will not, by Heaven!\" said she.\n\n\"Ah, lady!\" said he, \"be not so sorrowful for this matter.\"\n\n\"It were hard to persuade me to be otherwise,\" said she.\n\n\"I will act towards thee in such wise, that thou needest not be\nsorrowful, whether yonder knight live or die. Behold, a good earldom,\ntogether with myself, will I bestow on thee. Be therefore happy and\njoyful.\"\n\n\"I declare to Heaven,\" said she, \"that henceforth I shall never be\njoyful while I live.\"\n\n\"Come, then,\" said he, \"and eat.\"\n\n\"No, by Heaven, I will not,\" she answered.\n\n\"But, by Heaven, thou shalt,\" said he. So he took her with him to the\ntable, against her will, and many times desired her to eat.\n\n\"I call Heaven to witness,\" said she, \"that I will not eat until the\nman that is upon yonder bier shall eat likewise.\"\n\n\"Thou canst not fulfil that,\" said the earl. \"Yonder man is dead\nalready.\"\n\n\"I will prove that I can,\" said she.\n\nThen he offered her a goblet of liquor. \"Drink this goblet,\" he said,\n\"and it will cause thee to change thy mind.\"\n\n\"Evil betide me,\" she answered, \"if I drink aught until he drink also.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said the earl, \"it is of no more avail for me to be gentle\nwith thee than ungentle.\" And he gave her a box in the ear. Thereupon\nshe raised a loud and piercing shriek; and her lamentations were much\ngreater than they had been before, for she considered in her mind,\nthat, had Geraint been alive, he durst not have struck her thus.\n\nBut behold, at the sound of her cry, Geraint revived from his swoon,\nand he sat up on the bier, and, finding his sword in the hollow of his\nshield, he rushed to the place where the earl was, and struck him a\nfiercely-wounding, severely-venomous, and sternly-smiting blow upon the\ncrown of his head, so that he clove him in twain, until his sword was\nstayed by the table. Then all left the board, and fled away. And this\nwas not so much through fear of the living as through the dread they\nfelt at seeing the dead man rise up to slay them. And Geraint looked\nupon Enid, and he was grieved for two causes: one was to see that Enid\nhad lost her color and her wonted aspect; and the other, to know that\nshe was in the right. \"Lady,\" said he, \"knowest thou where our horses\nare?\"\n\n\"I know, lord, where thy horse is,\" she replied; \"but I know not where\nis the other. Thy horse is in the house yonder.\"\n\nSo he went to the house, and brought forth his horse, and mounted him,\nand took up Enid from the ground, and placed her upon the horse with\nhim. And he rode forward. And their road lay between two hedges. And\nthe night was gaining on the day. And lo! they saw behind them the\nshafts of spears betwixt them and the sky, and they heard the trampling\nof horses and the noise of a host approaching. \"I hear something\nfollowing us,\" said he, \"and I will put thee on the other side of\nthe hedge.\" And thus he did. And thereupon, behold, a knight pricked\ntowards him, and couched his lance.\n\nWhen Enid saw this, she cried out, saying, \"O chieftain! whoever thou\nart, what renown wilt thou gain by slaying a dead man?\"\n\n\"O Heaven!\" said he, \"is it Geraint?\"\n\n\"Yes, in truth,\" said she. \"And who art thou?\"\n\n\"I am the Little King,\" he answered, \"coming to thy assistance; for I\nheard that thou wast in trouble. And if thou hadst followed my advice,\nnone of these hardships would have befallen thee.\"\n\n\"Nothing can happen,\" said Geraint, \"without the will of Heaven, though\nmuch good results from counsel.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Little King; \"and I know good counsel for thee now.\nCome with me to the court of a son-in-law of my sister, which is near\nhere, and thou shalt have the best medical assistance in the kingdom.\"\n\n\"I will do so gladly,\" said Geraint. And Enid was placed upon the\nhorse of one of the Little King's squires, and they went forward to\nthe baron's palace. And they were received there with gladness, and\nthey met with hospitality and attention. And the next morning they went\nto seek physicians, and it was not long before they came; and they\nattended Geraint until he was perfectly well. And while Geraint was\nunder medical care, the Little King caused his armor to be repaired,\nuntil it was as good as it had ever been. And they remained there a\nfortnight 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.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said Geraint. \"We will first journey for one day more, and\nreturn again.\"\n\n\"With all my heart!\" said the Little King. \"Do thou go then.\" And early\nin the day they set forth. And more gladly and more joyfully did Enid\njourney with them that day than she had ever done. And they came to the\nmain road. And when they reached a place where the road divided in two,\nthey beheld a man on foot coming towards them along one of these roads;\nand Gwiffert asked the man whence he came.\n\n\"I come,\" said he, \"from an errand in the country.\"\n\n\"Tell me,\" said Geraint: \"which is the best for me to follow of these\ntwo roads?\"\n\n\"That is the best for thee to follow,\" answered he; \"for if thou goest\nby this one, thou wilt never return. Below us,\" said he, \"there is a\nhedge of mist, and within it are enchanted games; and no one who has\ngone there has ever returned. And the court of the Earl Owain is there,\nand he permits no one to go to lodge in the town, except he will go to\nhis court.\"\n\n\"I declare to Heaven,\" said Geraint, \"that we will take the lower\nroad.\" And they went along it until they came to the town. And they\ntook the fairest and pleasantest place in the town for their lodging.\nAnd while they were thus, behold, a young man came to them, and greeted\nthem. \"Heaven be propitious to thee!\" said they.\n\n\"Good sirs,\" said he, \"what preparations are you making here?\"\n\n\"We are taking up our lodging,\" said they, \"to pass the night.\"\n\n\"It is not the custom with him who owns the town,\" he answered, \"to\npermit any of gentle birth, unless they come to stay in his court, to\nabide here therefore: come ye to the court.\"\n\n\"We will come gladly,\" said Geraint. And they went with the page, and\nthey were joyfully received. And the earl came to the hall to meet\nthem, and he commanded the tables to be laid. And they washed, and sat\ndown. And this is the order in which they sat: Geraint on one side of\nthe earl, and Enid on the other side, and next to Enid the Little King,\nand 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\nearl looked upon Geraint, and considered; and he bethought him that his\nnot eating was because of the games, and it grieved him that he had\never established those games, were it only on account of losing such a\nyouth as Geraint. And if Geraint had asked him to abolish the games, he\nwould gladly have done so.\n\nThen the earl said to Geraint, \"What thought occupies thy mind, that\nthou dost not eat? If thou hesitatest about going to the games, thou\nshalt not go, and no other of thy rank shall ever go, either.\"\n\n\"Heaven reward thee!\" said Geraint. \"But I wish nothing better than to\ngo to the games, and to be shown the way thither.\"\n\n\"If that is what thou dost prefer, thou shalt obtain it willingly.\"\n\n\"I do prefer it, indeed,\" said he. Then they ate, and they were amply\nserved, and they had a variety of gifts, and abundance of liquor. And\nwhen they had finished eating they arose. And Geraint called for his\nhorse and his armor, and he accoutred both himself and his horse. And\nall the hosts went forth until they came to the side of the hedge; and\nthe hedge was so lofty, that it reached as high as they could see in\nthe air; and upon every stake in the hedge, except two, there was the\nhead of a man, and the number of stakes throughout the hedge was very\ngreat.\n\nThen said the Little King, \"May no one go in with the chieftain?\"\n\n\"No one may,\" said Earl Owain.\n\n\"Which way can I enter?\" inquired Geraint.\n\n\"I know not,\" said Owain. \"But enter by the way that thou wilt, and\nthat seemeth easiest to thee.\"\n\nThen fearlessly and unhesitatingly Geraint dashed forward into the\nmist. And on leaving the mist he came to a large orchard; and in the\norchard he saw an open space, wherein was a tent of red satin. And\nthe door of the tent was open, and an apple-tree stood in front of\nthe door of the tent; and on a branch of the apple-tree hung a huge\nhunting-horn. Then he dismounted, and went into the tent; and there\nwas no one in the tent save one maiden sitting in a golden chair, and\nanother chair was opposite to her, empty. And Geraint went to the empty\nchair, and sat down therein.\n\n\"Ah, chieftain!\" said the maiden, \"I would not counsel thee to sit in\nthat chair.\"\n\n\"Wherefore?\" said Geraint.\n\n\"The man to whom that chair belongs has never suffered another to sit\nin it.\"\n\n\"I care not,\" said Geraint, \"though it displease him that I sit in\nthe chair.\" And thereupon they heard a mighty tumult around the tent.\nAnd Geraint looked to see what was the cause of the tumult. And he\nbeheld without a knight mounted upon a war-horse, proudly snorting,\nhigh-mettled, and large of bone; and a robe of honor in two parts was\nupon him and upon his horse, and beneath it was plenty of armor.\n\n\"Tell me, chieftain,\" said he to Geraint, \"who it was that bade thee\nsit there.\"\n\n\"Myself,\" answered he.\n\n\"It was wrong of thee to do me this shame and disgrace. Arise, and do\nme satisfaction for thine insolence.\"\n\nThen Geraint arose; and they encountered immediately; and they broke a\nset of lances, and a second set, and a third; and they gave each other\nfierce and frequent strokes. And at last Geraint became enraged; and\nhe urged on his horse, and rushed upon him, and gave him a thrust on\nthe centre of his shield, so that it was split, and so that the head of\nhis lance went through his armor, and his girths were broken, and he\nhimself was borne headlong to the ground, the length of Geraint's lance\nand arm, over his horse's crupper. \"Oh, my lord!\" said he, \"thy mercy,\nand thou shalt have what thou wilt.\"\n\n\"I only desire,\" said Geraint, \"that this game shall no longer exist\nhere, nor the hedge of mist, nor magic, nor enchantment.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt have this gladly, lord,\" he replied.\n\n\"Cause, then, the mist to disappear from this place,\" said Geraint.\n\n\"Sound yonder horn,\" said he, \"and when thou soundest it, the mist will\nvanish; but it will not go hence unless the horn be blown by the knight\nby whom I am vanquished.\"\n\nAnd sad and sorrowful was Enid where she remained, through anxiety\nconcerning Geraint. Then Geraint went and sounded the horn. And at\nthe first blast he gave, the mist vanished. And all the hosts came\ntogether, and they all became reconciled to each other. And the earl\ninvited Geraint and the Little King to stay with him that night. And\nthe next morning they separated. And Geraint went towards his own\ndominions; and thenceforth he reigned prosperously, and his warlike\nfame and splendor lasted with renown and honor both to him and to Enid\nfrom that time forth.\n\n\n\n\n                      THE DREAM OF MAXEN WLEDIG.\n\n\nMaxen Wledig was emperor[20] of Rome; and he was a comelier man, and a\nbetter and a wiser, than any emperor that had been before him. And one\nday he held a council of kings; and he said to his friends, \"I desire\nto go to-morrow to hunt.\" And the next day in the morning he set forth\nwith his retinue, and came to the valley of the river that flowed\ntowards Rome. And he hunted through the valley until mid-day. And with\nhim also were two and thirty crowned kings, that were his vassals.\nNot for the delight of hunting went the emperor with them, but to put\nhimself on equal terms with those kings.\n\n[Footnote 20: \"Maxen Wledig\" is the Emperor Maximus, A.D. 383, who\nwas in Britain with his army when he obtained the throne. Many Welsh\nstories are told about him.]\n\nAnd the sun was high in the sky over their heads, and the heat was\ngreat. And sleep came upon Maxen Wledig. And his attendants stood and\nset up their shields around him upon the shafts of their spears to\nprotect him from the sun, and they placed a gold enamelled shield under\nhis head; and so 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\ncame to the highest mountain in the world. And he thought that the\nmountain was as high as the sky. And when he came over the mountain, it\nseemed to him that he went through the fairest and most level regions\nthat man ever yet beheld, on the other side of the mountain. And he saw\nlarge and mighty rivers descending from the mountain to the sea, and\ntowards the mouths of the rivers he proceeded. And as he journeyed thus\nhe came to the mouth of the largest river ever seen. And he beheld a\ngreat city at the entrance of the river, and a vast castle in the city,\nand he saw many high towers of various colors in the castle. And he saw\na fleet at the mouth of the river, the largest ever seen. And he saw\none ship among the fleet: larger was it by far, and fairer, than all\nthe others. Of such part of the ship as he could see above the water,\none plank was gilded and the other silvered over. He saw a bridge of\nthe bone of the whale from the ship to the land, and he thought that he\nwent along the bridge, and came into the ship. And a sail was hoisted\non the ship, and along the sea and the ocean was it borne. Then it\nseemed that he came to the fairest island in the whole world, and he\ntraversed the island from sea to sea, even to the farthest shore of the\nisland. Valleys he saw, and steeps, and rocks of wondrous height, and\nrugged precipices. Never yet saw he the like. And thence he beheld an\nisland in the sea, facing this rugged land. And between him and this\nisland was a country of which the plain was as large as the sea, the\nmountain as vast as the wood. And from the mountain he saw a river\nthat flowed through the land, and fell into the sea. And at the mouth\nof the river he beheld a castle, the fairest that man ever saw; and the\ngate of the castle was open, and he went into the castle. And in the\ncastle he saw a fair hall, of which the roof seemed to be all gold;\nthe walls of the hall seemed to be entirely of glittering precious\ngems, the doors all seemed to be of gold. Golden seats he saw in the\nhall, and silver tables. And on a seat opposite to him he beheld two\nauburn-haired youths playing at chess. He saw a silver board for the\nchess, and golden pieces thereon. The garments of the youths were of\njet-black satin; and chaplets of ruddy gold bound their hair, whereon\nwere sparkling jewels of great price, rubies, and gems alternately\nwith imperial stones; buskins of new Cordovan leather on their feet,\nfastened by slides of red gold.\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 were on his hands, and a\ngolden torque about his neck; and his hair was bound with a golden\ndiadem. He was of powerful aspect. A chessboard of gold was before him,\nand a rod of gold, and a steel file in his hand. And he was carving out\nchessmen.\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\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\na girdle of ruddy gold was around her. She was the fairest sight that\nman ever beheld.\n\nThe maiden arose from her chair before him, and they two sat down\ntogether in the chair of gold; and the chair was not less roomy for\nthem both than for the maiden alone. And behold, through the chafing\nof the dogs at their leashing, and the clashing of the shields as they\nstruck against each other, and the beating together of the shafts of\nthe spears, and the neighing of the horses and their prancing, the\nemperor awoke.\n\nAnd when he awoke, nor spirit nor existence was left him, because of\nthe maiden whom he had seen in his sleep; for the love of the maiden\npervaded his whole frame. Then his household spake unto him. \"Lord,\"\nsaid they, \"is it not past the time for thee to take thy food?\"\nThereupon the emperor mounted his palfrey, the saddest man that mortal\never saw, and went 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 any thing but sleep.\nAnd as often as he slept, he beheld in his dreams the maiden he loved\nbest: but except when he slept he saw nothing of her; for he knew not\nwhere in the world she was.\n\nOne day the page of the chamber spake unto him: now, although he was\npage of the chamber, he was king of the Romans. \"Lord,\" said he, \"all\nthe people revile thee.\"\n\n\"Wherefore do they revile me?\" asked the emperor.\n\n\"Because they can get neither message nor answer from thee, as men\nshould have from their lord. This is the cause why thou art spoken evil\nof.\"\n\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.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" they answered, \"since thou judgest us worthy to counsel thee,\nwe will give thee counsel. And this is our counsel: that thou send\nmessengers for three years to the three parts of the world to seek for\nthy dream. And as thou knowest not what day or what night good news may\ncome to thee, the hope thereof will support thee.\"\n\nSo the messengers journeyed for the space of a year, wandering about\nthe world, and seeking tidings concerning his dream. But when they came\nback at the end of the year, they knew not one word more than they did\nthe day they set forth. And then was the emperor exceeding sorrowful;\nfor he thought that he should never have tidings of her whom best he\nloved.\n\nThen spoke the King of the Romans unto the emperor. \"Lord,\" said he,\n\"go forth to hunt by the way thou didst seem to go, whether it were to\nthe east or to the west.\"\n\nSo the emperor went forth to the hunt, and he came to the bank of the\nriver. \"Behold,\" said he, \"this is where I was when I saw the dream,\nand I went towards the source of the river westward.\"\n\nAnd thereupon thirteen messengers of the emperor's set forth; and\nbefore them they saw a high mountain, which seemed to them to touch\nthe sky. Now this was the guise in which the messengers journeyed: one\nsleeve was on the cap of each of them in front, as a sign that they\nwere messengers, in order that through what hostile land soever they\nmight pass no harm might be done them. And when they were come over\nthis mountain, they beheld vast plains, and large rivers flowing there\nthrough. \"Behold,\" said they, \"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-colored high towers in the castle. They saw the largest fleet\nin the world in the harbor 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\nthe Island of Britain. And they traversed the island until they came to\nSnowdon. \"Behold,\" said they, \"the rugged land that our master saw.\"\nAnd they went forward until they saw Anglesey before them, and until\nthey saw Arvon likewise. \"Behold,\" said they, \"the land our master saw\nin 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.\" They went into the hall, and they\nbeheld two youths playing at chess on the golden bench. And they beheld\nthe hoary-headed man beside the pillar, in the ivory chair, carving\nchessmen. And they beheld the maiden sitting on a chair of ruddy gold.\n\nThe messengers bent down upon their knees. \"Empress of Rome, all hail!\"\n\n\"Ha, gentles,\" said the maiden, \"ye bear the seeming of honorable men,\nand the badge of envoys: what mockery is this ye do to me?\"\n\n\"We mock thee not, lady; but the Emperor of Rome hath seen thee in his\nsleep, and he has neither life nor spirit left because of thee. Thou\nshalt have of us therefore the choice, lady,--whether thou wilt go with\nus and be made Empress of Rome, or that the emperor come hither and\ntake thee for his wife?\"\n\n\"Ha, lords,\" said the maiden, \"I will not deny what ye say, neither\nwill I believe it too well. If the emperor love me, let him come here\nto 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\nRome, they saluted the emperor, and asked their boon, which was given\nto them according as they named it. \"We will be thy guides, lord,\" said\nthey, \"over sea and over land, to the place where is the woman whom\nbest thou lovest; for we know her name, and her kindred, and her race.\"\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\nthe deep. And he conquered the island from Beli the son of Manogan,\nand his sons, and drove them to the sea, and went forward even unto\nArvon. And the emperor knew the land when he saw it. And when he beheld\nthe castle of Aber Sain, \"Look yonder,\" said he, \"there is the castle\nwherein I saw the damsel whom I best love.\" And he went forward into\nthe castle and into the hall, and there he saw Kynan the son of Eudav,\nand Adeon the son of Eudav, playing at chess. And he saw Eudav the son\nof Caradawc sitting on a chair of ivory, carving chessmen. And the\nmaiden whom he had beheld in his sleep he saw sitting on a chair of\ngold. \"Empress of Rome,\" said he, \"all hail!\" And the emperor threw his\narms about her neck; and she became his bride.\n\nAnd the next day in the morning, the damsel asked her maiden portion.\nAnd he told her to name what she would. And she asked to have the\nIsland of Britain for her father, from the Channel to the Irish Sea,\ntogether with the three adjacent islands, to hold under the Empress of\nRome, and to have three chief castles made for her in whatever places\nshe might choose in the Island of Britain. And she chose to have the\nhighest castle made at Arvon. And they brought thither earth from Rome,\nthat it might be more healthful for the emperor to sleep and sit and\nwalk upon. After that, the two other castles were made for her, which\nwere Caerlleon and Caermarthen.\n\nAnd one day the emperor went to hunt at Caermarthen, and he came so\nfar as the top of Brevi Vawr, and there the emperor pitched his tent.\nAnd that encamping place is called Cadeir Maxen, even to this day.\nAnd because that he built the castle with a myriad of men, he called\nit Caervyrddin. Then Helen bethought her to make high roads from one\ncastle to another throughout the Island of Britain. And the roads were\nmade. And for this cause are they called the Roads of Helen Luyddawc,\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 for any save\nfor her.\n\nSeven years did the emperor tarry in this island. Now, at that time,\nthe men of Rome had a custom, that whatsoever emperor should remain in\nother lands more than seven years should remain to his own overthrow,\nand should 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\nwho styled himself emperor in Rome. There was nought in that letter\nalso but only this: \"If I come to Rome, and if I come.\"\n\nAnd thereupon Maxen set forth towards Rome with his army, and\nvanquished France and Burgundy, and every land on the way, and sat down\nbefore the city of Rome.\n\nA year was the emperor before the city, and he was no nearer taking\nit than 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,\nand encamping, and no man ever saw a fairer or better appointed host\nfor its size, 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.\"\nSo they 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\ntheir number. Now, when these were ready, every day at mid-day the\nemperors went to meat, and they ceased to fight on both sides till all\nhad finished eating. And in the morning the men of Britain took their\nfood, and they drank until they were invigorated. And while the two\nemperors were at meat, the Britons came to the city, and placed their\nladders against it, and forthwith they came in through the city.\n\nThe new emperor had no time to arm himself when they fell upon him,\nand slew him, and many others with him. And three nights and three\ndays were they subduing the men that were in the city, and taking the\ncastle. And others of them kept the city, lest any of the host of Maxen\nshould come therein, until they had subjected all to their will.\n\nThen spake Maxen to Helen Luyddawc. \"I marvel, lady,\" said he, \"that\nthy brothers have not conquered this city for me.\"\n\n\"Lord, emperor,\" she answered, \"the wisest youths in the world are my\nbrothers. Go thou thither, and ask the city of them, and if it be in\ntheir possession thou shalt have it gladly.\" So the emperor and Helen\nwent and demanded the city. And they told the emperor that none had\ntaken the city, and that none could give it him, but the men of the\nIsland of Britain. Then the gates of the city of Rome were opened,\nand the emperor sat on the throne, and all the men of Rome submitted\nthemselves unto him.\n\nThe emperor then said unto Kynan and Adeon, \"Lords,\" said he, \"I have\nnow had possession of the whole of my empire. This host give I unto you\nto vanquish whatever region ye may desire in the world.\"\n\nSo they set forth and conquered lands and castles and cities. And\nthey slew all the men; but the women they kept alive. And thus they\ncontinued until the young men that had come with them were grown\ngray-headed, from the length of time they were upon this conquest.\n\nThen spoke Kynan unto Adeon his brother, \"Whether wilt thou rather,\"\nsaid he, \"tarry in this land, or go back into the land whence thou\ndidst come forth?\" Now he chose to go back to his own land, and many\nwith him. But Kynan tarried there with the other part, and dwelt there.\n\nAnd this dream is called the Dream of Maxen Wledig, Emperor of Rome.\nAnd here it ends.\n\n\n\n\n                             TALIESIN.[21]\n\n\n[Footnote 21: Taliesin is the greatest of Welsh poets, and is called\nby his countrymen \"the Prince of Song.\" He became bard at the court of\nKing Arthur, and was one of the brightest in that glorious assemblage.\nThe actual man Taliesin appears to have lived in the sixth century,\nand poems remain which are believed to be his genuine works. A\ncurious story of his life appears among the publications of the Welsh\nManuscript Society, which I give here as quoted by Lady Guest:--\n\n\"Taliesin, Chief of the Bards, the son of Saint Henwg of\nCaerlleon-upon-Usk, was invited to the court of Urien Rheged, at\nAberllychwr. He, with Elffin the son of Urien, being once fishing\nat sea in a skin coracle, an Irish pirate-ship seized him and his\ncoracle, and bore him away towards Ireland; but while the pirates were\nat the height of their drunken mirth, Taliesin pushed his coracle to\nthe sea, and got into it himself, with a shield in his hand which he\nfound in the ship, and with which he rowed the coracle until it verged\nthe land; but, the waves breaking then in wild foam, he lost his hold\non the shield, so that he had no alternative but to be driven at the\nmercy of the sea, in which state he continued for a short time, when\nthe coracle stuck to the point of a pole in the weir of Gwyddno, Lord\nof Ceredigion, in Aberdyvi; and in that position he was found, at the\nebb, by Gwyddno's fishermen, by whom he was interrogated. And when\nit was ascertained that he was a bard, and the tutor of Elffin the\nson of Urien Rheged, the son of Cynvarch, 'I, too, have a son named\nElffin,' said Gwyddno, 'be thou a bard and teacher to him also, and\nI will give thee lands in free tenure.' The terms were accepted, and\nfor several successive years he spent his time between the courts of\nUrien Rheged and Gwyddno, called Gwyddno Garanhir, Lord of the Lowland\nCantred. But after the territory of Gwyddno had become overwhelmed\nby the sea, Taliesin was invited by the Emperor Arthur to his court\nat Caerlleon-upon-Usk, where he became highly celebrated for poetic\ngenius, and useful, meritorious sciences. After Arthur's death he\nretired to the estate given to him by Gwyddno, taking Elffin, the son\nof that prince, under his protection. It was from this account that\nThomas the son of Einion Offeiriad, descended from Gruffydd Gwyr,\nformed his romance of Taliesin the son of Cariadwen, Elffin the son of\nGoddnou, Rhun the son of Maelgwn Gwynedd, and the operations of the\nCaldron of Ceridwen.\"\n\nI think it interesting to add in this connection that the old Welsh\nbard was not a mere versifier, but was a true, wise man, and knew all\nhuman learning. Hereby hangs a little Welsh story, which has always\nseemed to me of great significance. A certain Einigan Gawr saw three\nrays of light, on which were inscribed all knowledge and science. And\nhe took three rods of mountain-ash, and inscribed all the sciences upon\nthem, as it should seem in imitation of the three rays of light. And\nthose who saw them deified the rods, which so grieved Einigan, that he\nbroke the rods, and died.\n\nIt may seem, by the way, absurd to speak of inscribing sciences upon\nrods of ash, until one knows that the Bardic alphabet, which I believe\nis now generally regarded genuine, would seem to have originated in the\nthree rays of light seen by Einigan Gawr,--as /|\\ for example; being\nformed entirely of such lines, which, as easily seen, are easily cut on\nwood, since they involve no curves, and are capable of being made with\na single stroke of the knife.]\n\n\nIn times past there lived in Penllyn a man of gentle lineage named\nTegid Voel; and his dwelling was in the midst of the Lake Tegid; and\nhis wife was called Caridwen. And there was born to him of his wife a\nson named Morvran ab Tegid, and also a daughter named Creirwy, the\nfairest maiden in the world was she; and they had a brother, the most\nill-favored man in the world, Avagddu. Now Caridwen his mother thought\nthat he was not likely to be admitted among men of noble birth, by\nreason of his ugliness, unless he had some exalted merits or knowledge.\nFor it was in the beginning of Arthur's time and of the Round Table.\n\nSo she resolved according to the arts of the books of the Fferyllt,\nto boil a caldron of Inspiration and Science for her son, that his\nreception might be honorable because of his knowledge of the mysteries\nof the future state of the world.\n\nThen she began to boil the caldron, which from the beginning of its\nboiling might not cease to boil for a year and a day, until three\nblessed drops were obtained of the grace of Inspiration.\n\nAnd she put Gwion Bach the son of Gwreang of Llanfair in Caereinion, in\nPowys, to stir the caldron, and a blind man named Morda to kindle the\nfire beneath it, and she charged them that they should not suffer it\nto cease boiling for the space of a year and a day. And she herself,\naccording to the books of the astronomers, and in planetary hours,\ngathered every day of all charm-bearing herbs. And one day towards\nthe end of the year, as Caridwen was culling plants, and making\nincantations, it chanced that three drops of the charmed liquor flew\nout of the caldron and fell upon the finger of Gwion Bach. And by\nreason of their great heat he put his finger to his mouth; and the\ninstant he put those marvel-working drops into his mouth, he foresaw\nevery thing that was to come, and perceived that his chief care must be\nto guard against the wiles of Caridwen, for vast was her skill. And in\nvery great fear he fled towards his own land. And the caldron burst in\ntwo, because all the liquor within it, except the three charm-bearing\ndrops, was poisonous; so that the horses of Gwyddno Garanhir were\npoisoned by the water of the stream into which the liquor of the\ncaldron ran; and the confluence of that stream was called the Poison of\nthe Horses of Gwyddno from that time forth.\n\nThereupon came in Caridwen, and saw all the toil of the whole year\nlost. And she seized a billet of wood, and struck the blind Morda on\nthe head, until one of his eyes fell out upon his cheek. And he said,\n\"Wrongfully hast thou disfigured me; for I am innocent. Thy loss was\nnot because of me.\"\n\n\"Thou speakest truth,\" said Caridwen. \"It was Gwion Bach who robbed me.\"\n\nAnd she went forth after him, running. And he saw her, and changed\nhimself into a hare, and fled. But she changed herself into a\ngreyhound, and turned him. And he ran towards a river, and became a\nfish. And she, in the form of an otter, chased him under the water,\nuntil he was fain to turn himself into a bird of the air. She, as a\nhawk, followed him, and gave him no rest in the sky. And just as she\nwas about to stoop upon him, and he was in fear of death, he espied a\nheap of winnowed wheat on the floor of a barn, and he dropped among the\nwheat, and turned himself into one of the grains. Then she transformed\nherself into a high-crested black hen, and went to the wheat, and\nscratched it with her feet, and found him out. So she wrapped him in\na leathern bag, and cast him into the sea to the mercy of God, on the\ntwenty-ninth day of April.\n\nAnd at that time the weir of Gwyddno was on the strand between Dyvi and\nAberystwyth, near to his own castle; and the value of an hundred pounds\nwas taken in that weir every May Eve. And in those days Gwyddno had an\nonly son named Elphin, the most hapless of youths and the most needy.\nAnd it grieved his father sore, for he thought that he was born in an\nevil hour. And by the advice of his council his father had granted\nhim the drawing of the weir that year, to see if good luck would ever\nbefall him, and to give him something wherewith to begin the world.\n\nAnd the next day when Elphin went to look, there was nothing in the\nweir. But as he turned back he perceived the leathern bag upon a pole\nof the weir. Then said one of the weir-ward unto Elphin, \"Thou wast\nnever unlucky until to-night; and now thou hast destroyed the virtues\nof the weir, which always yielded the value of an hundred pounds every\nMay Eve; and to-night there is nothing but this leathern skin within\nit.\"\n\n\"How now?\" said Elphin. \"There may be therein the value of an hundred\npounds.\" Well, they took up the leathern bag; and he who opened it\nsaw the forehead of the boy, and said to Elphin, \"Behold a radiant\nbrow!\"[22]\n\n[Footnote 22: \"Taliesin\" means \"radiant brow.\"]\n\n\"Taliesin be he called,\" said Elphin. And he lifted the boy in his\narms, and, lamenting his mischance, he placed him sorrowfully behind\nhim. And he made his horse amble gently, that before had been trotting;\nand he carried him as softly as if he had been sitting in the easiest\nchair in the world. And presently the boy made a Consolation and praise\nto Elphin, and foretold honor to Elphin; and the Consolation was as you\nmay see:--\n\n    \"Fair Elphin, cease to lament!\n    Let no one be dissatisfied with his own:\n    To despair will bring no advantage.\n    No man sees what supports him;\n    The prayer of Cynllo will not be in vain;\n    God will not violate his promise.\n    Never in Gwyddno's weir\n    Was there such good luck as this night.\n    Fair Elphin, dry thy cheeks!\n    Being too sad will not avail,\n    Although thou thinkest thou hast no gain:\n    Too much grief will bring thee no good;\n    Nor doubt the miracles of the Almighty.\n    Although I am but little, I am highly gifted.\n    From seas, and from mountains,\n    And from the depths of rivers,\n    God brings wealth to the fortunate man.\n    Elphin of lively qualities,\n    Thy resolution is unmanly;\n    Thou must not be over sorrowful:\n    Better to trust in God than to forebode ill.\n    Weak and small as I am,\n    On the foaming beach of the ocean,\n    In the day of trouble I shall be\n    Of more service to thee than three hundred salmon.\n    Elphin of notable qualities,\n    Be not displeased at thy misfortune;\n    Although reclined thus weak in my bag,\n    There lies a virtue in my tongue.\n    While I continue thy protector\n    Thou hast not much to fear;\n    Remembering the names of the Trinity,\n    None shall be able to harm thee.\"\n\nAnd this was the first poem that Taliesin ever sang, being to console\nElphin in his grief for that the produce of the weir was lost, and,\nwhat was worse, that all the world would consider that it was through\nhis fault and ill luck.\n\nThen came Elphin to the house or court of Gwyddno his father, and\nTaliesin with him. And Gwyddno asked him if he had had a good haul at\nthe weir, and he told him that he had got that which was better than\nfish. \"What was that?\" said Gwyddno.\n\n\"A bard,\" answered Elphin.\n\nThen said Gwyddno, \"Alas, what will he profit thee?\"\n\nAnd Taliesin himself replied and said, \"He will profit him more than\nthe weir ever profited thee.\"\n\nAsked Gwyddno, \"Art thou able to speak, and thou so little?\"\n\nAnd Taliesin answered him, \"I am better able to speak than thou to\nquestion me.\"\n\nAnd forthwith Elphin gave his haul to his wife, and she nursed him\ntenderly and lovingly. Thenceforward Elphin increased in riches more\nand more day after day, and in love and favor with the king. And there\nabode Taliesin until he was thirteen years old, when Elphin, son of\nGwyddno, went by a Christmas invitation to his uncle, Maelgwn Gwynedd,\nwho some time after this held open court at Christmastide in the castle\nof Dyganwy, for all the number of his lords of both degrees, both\nspiritual and temporal, with a vast and thronged hosts of knights and\nsquires. And amongst them there arose a discourse and discussion. And\nthus was it said:--\n\n\"Is there in the whole world a king so great as Maelgwn, or one on\nwhom Heaven has bestowed so many spiritual gifts as upon him? First,\nform and beauty and meekness and strength, besides all the powers of\nthe soul!\" And together with these they said that Heaven had given\none gift that exceeded all the others, which was the beauty and\ncomeliness and grace and wisdom and modesty of his queen, whose virtues\nsurpassed those of all the ladies and noble maidens throughout the\nwhole kingdom. And with this they put questions one to another amongst\nthemselves,--\"Who had braver men, who had fairer or swifter horses or\ngreyhounds, who had more skilful or wiser bards--than Maelgwn?\"\n\nNow at that time the bards were in great favor with the exalted of the\nkingdom; and then none performed the office of those who are now called\nheralds, unless they were learned men, not only expert in the service\nof kings and princes, but studious, and well versed in the lineage and\narms and exploits of princes and kings, and in discussions concerning\nforeign kingdoms and the ancient things of this kingdom, and chiefly\nin the annals of the first nobles, and also were prepared always with\ntheir answers in various languages,--Latin, French, Welsh, and English.\nAnd together with this they were great chroniclers and recorders, and\nskilful in framing verses, and ready in making englyns in every one\nof those languages. Now of these there were at that feast within the\npalace of Maelgwn as many as four and twenty, and chief of them all was\none named Heinin Vardd.\n\nWhen they had all made an end of thus praising the king and his gifts,\nit befell that Elphin spoke in this wise: \"Of a truth none but a king\nmay vie with a king; but, were he not a king, I would say that my wife\nwas as full of virtues as any lady in the kingdom, and also that I have\na bard who is more skilful than all the king's bards.\" In a short space\nsome of his fellows showed the king all the boastings of Elphin; and\nthe king ordered him to be thrown into a strong prison until he might\nknow the truth as to the virtues of his wife and the wisdom of his bard.\n\nNow, when Elphin had been put in a tower of the castle, with a thick\nchain about his feet (it is said that it was a silver chain, because he\nwas of royal blood), the king, as the story relates, sent his son Rhun\nto inquire into the demeanor of Elphin's wife. Now, Rhun was the most\ngraceless man in the world, and there was neither wife nor maiden with\nwhom he had held converse, but was evil spoken of. While Rhun went in\nhaste towards Elphin's dwelling, being fully minded to bring disgrace\nupon his wife, Taliesin told his mistress how that the king had placed\nhis master in durance in prison, and how that Rhun was coming in haste\nto strive to bring disgrace upon her. Wherefore he caused his mistress\nto array one of the maids of her kitchen in her apparel; which the\nnoble lady gladly did; and she loaded her hands with the best rings\nthat she and her husband possessed.\n\nIn this guise Taliesin caused his mistress to put the maiden to sit\nat the board in her room at supper, and he made her to seem as her\nmistress, and the mistress to seem as the maid. And when they were\nin due time seated at their supper in the manner that has been said,\nRhun suddenly arrived at Elphin's dwelling, and was received with joy,\nfor all the servants knew him plainly. And they brought him in haste\nto the room of their mistress, in the semblance of whom the maid rose\nup from supper, and welcomed him gladly. And afterwards she sat down\nto supper again the second time, and Rhun with her. Then Rhun began\njesting with the maid, who still kept the semblance of her mistress.\nAnd verily this story shows that the maiden became so intoxicated, that\nshe fell asleep; and the story relates that it was a powder that Rhun\nput into the drink, that made her sleep so soundly that she never felt\nit when he cut from off her hand her little finger, whereupon was the\nsignet-ring of Elphin, which he had sent to his wife as a token a short\ntime before. And Rhun returned to the king with the finger and the ring\nas a proof, to show that he had cut it from off her hand without her\nawaking from her sleep of intemperance.\n\nThe king rejoiced greatly at these tidings; and he sent for his\ncouncillors, to whom he told the whole story from the beginning. And\nhe caused Elphin to be brought out of his prison, and he chided him\nbecause of his boast. And he spake unto Elphin on this wise: \"Elphin,\nbe it known to thee beyond a doubt that it is but folly for a man to\ntrust in the virtues of his wife further than he can see her. And, that\nthou mayest be certain of thy wife's vileness, behold her finger, with\nthy signet-ring upon it, which was cut from her hand last night while\nshe slept the sleep of intoxication.\"\n\nThen thus spake Elphin: \"With thy leave, mighty king, I cannot deny my\nring; for it is known of many. But verily I assert strongly that the\nfinger around which it is was never attached to the hand of my wife;\nfor in truth and certainty there are three notable things pertaining\nto it, none of which ever belonged to any of my wife's fingers. The\nfirst of the three is, that it is certain, by your grace's leave,\nthat wheresoever my wife is at this present hour, whether sitting, or\nstanding, or lying down, this ring would never remain upon her thumb;\nwhereas you can plainly see that it was hard to draw it over the joint\nof the little finger of the hand whence this was cut. The second thing\nis, that my wife has never let pass one Saturday since I have known her\nwithout paring her nails before going to bed, and you can see fully\nthat the nail of this little finger has not been pared for a month. The\nthird is, truly, that the hand whence this finger came was kneading\nrye-dough within three days before the finger was cut therefrom, and I\ncan assure your goodness that my wife has never kneaded rye-dough since\nmy wife she has been.\"\n\nThen the king was mightily wroth with Elphin for so stoutly\nwithstanding him respecting the goodness of his wife: wherefore he\nordered him to his prison a second time, saying that he should not\nbe loosed thence until he had proved the truth of his boast, as well\nconcerning the wisdom of his bard as the virtues of his wife.\n\nIn the mean time his wife and Taliesin remained joyful at Elphin's\ndwelling. And Taliesin showed his mistress how that Elphin was in\nprison because of them; but he bade her be glad for that he would go to\nMaelgwn's court to free his master. Then she asked him in what manner\nhe would set him free. And he answered her [in a song whereof the last\nverses are these]:--\n\n    \"I Taliesin, chief of bards,\n    With a wise Druid's words,\n    Will set kind Elphin free\n    From haughty tyrant's bonds.\n    To their fell and chilling cry,\n    By the act of a surprising steed,\n    From the far distant North,\n    There soon shall be an end.\n    Let neither grace nor health\n    Be to Maelgwn Gwynedd,\n    For this force and this wrong;\n    And be extremes of ills\n    And an avenged end\n    To Rhun and all his race:\n    Short be his course of life,\n    Be all his lands laid waste;\n    And long exile be assigned\n    To Maelgwn Gwynedd!\"\n\nAfter this he took leave of his mistress, and came at last to the court\nof Maelgwn, who was going to sit in his hall, and dine in his royal\nstate, as it was the custom in those days for kings and princes to do\nat every chief feast. And as soon as Taliesin entered the hall, he\nplaced himself in a quiet corner, near the place where the bards and\nthe minstrels were wont to come in during their service and duty to\nthe king, as is the custom at the high festivals when the bounty is\nproclaimed. And so, when the bards and the heralds came to cry largess,\nand to proclaim the power of the king and his strength, at the moment\nthat they passed by the corner wherein he was crouching, Taliesin\npouted out his lips after them, and played \"Blerwm, blerwm,\" with his\nfinger upon his lips. Neither took they much notice of him as they went\nby, but proceeded forward till they came before the king, unto whom\nthey made their obeisance with their bodies, as they were wont, without\nspeaking a single word, but pouting out their lips, and making mouths\nat the king, playing, \"Blerwm, blerwm\" upon their lips with their\nfingers, as they had seen the boy do elsewhere. This sight caused the\nking to wonder, and to deem within himself that they were drunk with\nmany liquors. Wherefore he commanded one of his lords, who served at\nthe board, to go to them, and desire them to collect their wits, and to\nconsider where they stood, and what it was fitting for them to do. And\nthis lord did so gladly. But they ceased not from their folly any more\nthan before. Whereupon he sent to them a second time, and a third,\ndesiring them to go forth from the hall. At the last the king ordered\none of his squires to give a blow to the chief of them named Heinin\nVardd; and the squire took a broom and struck him on the head, so that\nhe fell back in his seat. Then he arose and went on his knees, and\nbesought leave of the king's grace to show that this their fault was\nnot through want of knowledge, neither through drunkenness, but by the\ninfluence of some spirit that was in the hall.\n\nAnd after this Heinin spoke on this wise: \"Oh, honorable king, be it\nknown to your grace, that not from the strength of drink, or of too\nmuch liquor, are we dumb, without power of speech like drunken men, but\nthrough the influence of a spirit that sits in the corner yonder in the\nform of a child.\" Forthwith the king commanded the squire to fetch him.\nAnd he went to the nook where Taliesin sat, and brought him before the\nking, who asked him what he was, and whence he came. And he answered\nthe king in verse:--\n\n    \"Primary chief bard am I to Elphin,\n    And my original country is the region of the summer stars;\n    Idno and Heinin called me Merddin,\n    At length every king will call me Taliesin.\n\n    I was with my Lord in the highest sphere,\n    On the fall of Lucifer into the depth of hell:\n    I have borne a banner before Alexander;\n    I know the names of the stars from north to south;\n    I have been on the galaxy at the throne of the Distributor;\n    I was in Canaan when Absalom was slain;\n    I conveyed the Divine Spirit to the level of the vale of Hebron;\n    I was in the court of Don before the birth of Gwdion.\n    I was instructor to Eli and Enoc;\n    I have been winged by the genius of the splendid crosier;\n    I have been loquacious prior to being gifted with speech;\n    I was at the place of the crucifixion of the merciful Son of God;\n    I have been three periods in the prison of Arianrod;\n    I have been the chief director of the work of the tower of Nimrod;\n    I am a wonder whose origin is not known.\n\n    I have been in Asia with Noah in the ark,\n    I have seen the destruction of Sodom and Gomorra;\n    I have been in India when Roma was built,\n    I am now come here to the remnant of Troia.\n\n    I have been with my Lord in the manger of the ass;\n    I strengthened Moses through the water of Jordan;\n    I have been in the firmament with Mary Magdalene;\n    I have obtained the muse from the caldron of Ceridwyn;\n    I have been bard of the harp to Lleon of Lochlin.\n    I have been on the White Hill, in the court of Cynvelyn,\n    For a day and a year in stocks and fetters,\n    I have suffered hunger for the Son of the Virgin.\n    I have been fostered in the land of the Deity,\n    I have been teacher to all intelligences,\n    I am able to instruct the whole universe.\n    I shall be until the day of doom on the face of the earth;\n    And it is not known whether my body is flesh or fish.\n    I was originally little Gwion,\n    And at length I am Taliesin.\"\n\nAnd when the king and his nobles had heard the song, they wondered\nmuch, for they had never heard the like from a boy so young as he. And\nwhen the king knew that he was the bard of Elphin, he bade Heinin, his\nfirst and wisest bard, to answer Taliesin and to strive with him. But\nwhen he came, he could do no other but play \"blerwm\" on his lips; and\nwhen he sent for the others of the four and twenty bards, they all did\nlikewise, and could do no other. And Maelgwn asked the boy Taliesin\nwhat was his errand. And he answered him in song:[23]--\n\n    \"There ought not to be about me\n    Any bard who may not know\n    That Elphin the son of Gwyddno\n    Is in the land of Artro,\n    Secured by thirteen locks,\n    For praising his instructor;\n    And then I Taliesin,\n    Chief of the bards of the west,\n    Shall loosen Elphin\n    Out of a golden fetter.\"\n\n[Footnote 23: This song, as well as several others, I have taken the\nliberty of omitting, save enough to give a fair idea of it.]\n\n[And then Taliesin sang a song of the Yellow Plague,[24] which was\nafterwards to come up out of the marsh]:--\n\n    \"Be silent, then, ye unlucky rhyming bards,\n    For you cannot judge between truth and falsehood.\n    If you be primary bards formed by heaven,\n    Tell your king what his fate will be.\n    It is I who am a diviner and a leading bard,\n    And will tell your king what will befall him.\n    A most strange creature will come from the sea marsh of Rhianedd\n    As a punishment of iniquity on Maelgwn Gwynedd;\n    His hair, his teeth, and his eyes being as gold,\n    And this will bring destruction upon Maelgwn Gwynedd.\"\n\n[Footnote 24: Known as the \"Yellow Plague of Rhos,\" of which Maelgwn\nis said to have died in the sixth century. The pestilence originated,\naccording to Welsh tradition, in the unburied bodies of the slain of\nMaelgwn's wars.]\n\n[And then Taliesin sang a wonderful song of the great wind]:--\n\n    \"Discover thou what is\n    The strong creature from before the flood,\n    Without flesh, without bone,\n    Without vein, without blood,\n    Without head, without feet;\n    It will neither be older nor younger\n    Than at the beginning;\n    For fear of a denial,\n    There are no rude wants\n    With creatures.\n    Great God! how the sea whitens\n    When first it comes!\n    Great are its gusts\n    When it comes from the south;\n    Great are its evaporations\n    When it strikes on coasts.\n    It is in the field, it is in the wood,\n    Without hand and without foot,\n    Without signs of old age,\n    Though it be coeval\n    With the five ages or periods;\n    And older still,\n    Though they be numberless years.\n    It is also so wide;\n    As the surface of the earth;\n    And it was not born,\n    Nor was it seen.\n    It will cause consternation\n    Wherever God willeth.\n    On sea, and on land,\n    It neither sees, nor is seen.\n    Its course is devious,\n    And will not come when desired\n    On land and on sea,\n    It is indispensable.\n    It is without an equal,\n    It is four-sided;\n    It is not confined,\n    It is incomparable;\n    It comes from four quarters;\n    It will not be advised,\n    It will not be without advice.\n    It commences its journey\n    Above the marble rock.\n    It is sonorous, it is dumb,\n    It is mild,\n    It is strong, it is bold,\n    When it glances over the land.\n    It is silent, it is vocal,\n    It is clamorous,\n    It is the most noisy\n    On the face of the earth.\n    It is good, it is bad,\n    It is extremely injurious.\n    It is concealed,\n    Because sight cannot perceive it.\n    It is noxious, it is beneficial;\n    It is yonder, it is here;\n    It will discompose,\n    But will not repair the injury;\n    It will not suffer for its doings,\n    Seeing it is blameless.\n    It is wet, it is dry.\n    It frequently comes,\n    Proceeding from the heat of the sun,\n    And the coldness of the moon.\n    The moon is less beneficial,\n    Inasmuch as her heat is less.\n    One Being has prepared it,\n    Out of all creatures,\n    By a tremendous blast,\n    To wreak vengeance\n    On Maelgwn Gwynedd.\"\n\nAnd while he was thus singing his verse near the door, there arose a\nmighty storm of wind, so that the king and all his nobles thought that\nthe castle would fall on their heads. And the king caused them to fetch\nElphin in haste from his dungeon, and placed him before Taliesin. And\nit is said, that immediately he sang a verse, so that the chains opened\nfrom about his feet:--\n\n    \"I adore the Supreme, Lord of all animation,--\n    Him that supports the heavens, Ruler of every extreme,\n    Him that made the water good for all,\n    Him who has bestowed each gift, and blesses it;--\n    May abundance of mead be given Maelgwn of Anglesey, who supplies us,\n    From his foaming meadhorns, with the choicest pure liquor.\n    Since bees collect, and do not enjoy,\n    We have sparkling distilled mead, which is universally praised.\n    The multitude of creatures which the earth nourishes\n    God made for man, with a view to enrich him;--\n    Some are violent, some are mute, he enjoys them,\n    Some are wild, some are tame; the Lord makes them;--\n    Part of their produce becomes clothing;\n    For food and beverage till doom will they continue.\n    I entreat the Supreme, Sovereign of the region of peace,\n    To liberate Elphin from banishment,\n    The man who gave me wine, and ale, and mead,\n    With large princely steeds, of beautiful appearance;\n    May he yet give me; and at the end,\n    May God of his good will grant me, in honor,\n    A succession of numberless ages, in the retreat of tranquillity.\n    Elphin, knight of mead, late be thy dissolution!\"\n\n[Illustration: Elphin Singing before Taliesin.]\n\nAnd afterwards he sang the ode which is called \"The Excellence of the\nBards,\" which ended with the following verses:--\n\n    \"Wherefore should a stone be hard;\n    Why should a thorn be sharp-pointed;\n    Who is hard like a flint;\n    Who is salt like brine;\n    Who sweet like honey;\n    Who rides on the gale;\n\n    Why ridged should be the nose;\n    Why should a wheel be round;\n    Why should the tongue be gifted with speech\n    Rather than another member?\n    If thy bards, Heinin, be competent,\n    Let them reply to me, Taliesin.\"\n\nAnd after that he sang the address which is called \"The Reproof of the\nBards.\"\n\nThen sang he the piece called \"The Spite of the Bards:\"\n\n    \"Minstrels persevere in their false custom,\n    Immoral ditties are their delight;\n    Vain and tasteless praise they recite;\n    Falsehood at all times do they utter;\n    The innocent persons they ridicule;\n    In idleness without work they feed themselves;\n    The Church they hate, and the tavern they frequent;\n    With thieves and perjured fellows they associate;\n    At courts they inquire after feasts;\n    Every senseless word they bring forward;\n    Every deadly sin they praise;\n    Every vile course of life they lead;\n    Through every village, town, and country they stroll;\n    Concerning the gripe of death they think not;\n    Neither lodging nor charity do they give;\n    Indulging in victuals to excess.\n    Psalms or prayers they do not use,\n    Tithes or offerings to God they do not pay,\n    On holidays or Sundays they do not worship;\n    Vigils or festivals they do not heed.\n    The birds do fly, the fish do swim,\n    The bees collect honey, worms do crawl,\n    Every thing travails to obtain its food,\n    Except minstrels and lazy useless thieves.\n    I deride neither song nor minstrelsy,\n    For they are given by God to lighten thought;\n    But him who abuses them,\n    For blaspheming Jesus and his service.\"\n\nTaliesin having set his master free from prison, and having protected\nhis wife, and silenced the bards, so that not one of them dared to say\na word, now brought Elphin's wife before them, and showed that she had\nnot one finger wanting. Right glad was Elphin, right glad was Taliesin.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n                          _BY SIDNEY LANIER_\n\n                          POEMS\n                          SELECT POEMS OF SIDNEY LANIER\n                          BOB\n                          LETTERS OF SIDNEY LANIER\n                          RETROSPECTS AND PROSPECTS\n                          MUSIC AND POETRY\n                          THE ENGLISH NOVEL\n                          THE SCIENCE OF ENGLISH VERSE\n                          THE LANIER BOOK\n                          SELECTIONS FROM SIDNEY LANIER\n\n\n                _BOY'S LIBRARY OF LEGEND AND CHIVALRY_\n\n                          THE BOY'S FROISSART\n                          THE BOY'S KING ARTHUR\n                          KNIGHTLY LEGENDS OF WALES\n                          THE BOY'S PERCY\n\n\n                       _CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS_","title":"Knightly Legends of Wales; or, The Boy's Mabinogion: Being the Earliest Welsh Tales of King Arthur in the Famous Red Book of Hergest","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":97970}