{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_74379/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_74379","id":"gutenberg_74379","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/74379","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Folklore -- Ireland -- Juvenile literature","Folklore -- Wales -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"[Illustration: Cover art]\n\n\n\n[Frontispiece: KILHUGH AND OLWEN--_Page 22_]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Title page]\n\n\n\n  Old Celtic\n  Tales\n\n\n  Retold by\n\n  E. M. WILMOT-BUXTON\n\n  Author of\n  \"Told by the Northmen\" \"The Book of\n  Rustem\" \"Britain Long Ago\" etc.\n\n\n  LONDON: GEORGE G.\n  HARRAP & COMPANY\n  3 Portsmouth St. Kingsway WC\n\n\n\n\nNOTE.--The stories in this book have been selected from Miss E. M.\nWilmot-Buxton's larger collection known as \"Britain Long Ago,\" in the\n_Told Through the Ages_ Series.\n\n\nTHE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH\n\n\n\n\n  UNIFORM WITH THIS BOOK\n\n  1. Old Celtic Tales\n  2. Northland Heroes\n  3. The Story of Siegfried\n  4. Tales from the Eddas\n  5. Tales from Chaucer\n  6. Tales of Early England\n  7. Fables and Nursery Tales\n  8. A Book of Nature Myths\n  9. The Wonderful Voyages of Gulliver\n  10. The Adventures of the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid.\n  11. The Adventures of Deerslayer\n  12. Gisli the Outlaw\n  13. Old Greek Folk Stories\n  14. The Voyage of the Argonauts\n  15. Tales from Shakespeare (Book One)\n  16. Tales from Shakespeare (Book Two)\n  17. Tales from Dickens\n  18. Tales from William Morris\n  19. Tales of Wallace and Bruce\n  20. Tales from Malory\n  21. Northland Sagas\n  22. Heroes of Old Britain\n  23. Tales from the Kalevala\n  24. Fairy Tales and Story Poems\n  25. The Last of the Mohicans\n  26. Ivanhoe\n  27. A Hero of Old France\n  28. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight\n\n\n\n\nContents\n\n\nTHE CHILDREN OF LIR\n\nTHE QUEST OF THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS\n\nTHE LADY OF THE FOUNTAIN\n\nTHE STORY OF KING LUD\n\nTHE TALE OF TALIESIN\n\nOLGER THE DANE\n\nTHE STORY OF KING FORTAGER\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: OLD CELTIC TALES]\n\n\nThe Children of Lir\n\nLir, a powerful Irish chieftain, had married the eldest of three\nbeautiful maidens, and in course of time they had four fair\nchildren--a daughter and three sons.  Sad to say, the mother died\nwhen they were still very young; and Lir married again.  His new\nwife, who was named Eva, was also very beautiful, but, though no one\nknew it, she was a very wicked sorceress.  She could not bear to see\nher husband go to fondle and play with his children, and at last she\ndetermined to do away with them altogether.  So one day she enticed\nthem to a lonely spot among the mountains, near a smooth lake, and,\nleaving them to play together, she tried to bribe her servants to put\nthem to death.  But they would not, and so she returned to them\ndetermined to do the deed herself.  Now, when she reached the spot,\nand saw how fair they looked as they ran races about the valley, her\nheart failed her, and she could not do this wicked thing.  But she\nwas determined that they should not return to their father Lir, so\nshe called to her an ancient Druid who lived in a cave near that\nspot, and persuaded him to use his enchantment to obtain her wish.\nWhen the Druid had advised her what to do, she called the little ones\nto her, and said to them: \"Children dear, how warm you are with your\nrunning!  Come and let me bathe you in Lake Dairbreak, that you may\nbe cool and refreshed.\"\n\nThe children were delighted to do so, and were soon splashing about\nin the clear water, but no sooner had the water covered them than by\nthe magic spells of Eva and the Druid they were all four changed into\nswans.\n\n\"Birds shall ye be,\" chanted the Druid from the bank as the change\ntook place, \"until, long ages hence, ye hear the voice of a Christian\nbell.\"\n\nSo the four beautiful milk-white swans swam sadly away over the\nsmooth water; and when the cruel Eva saw what she had done, she\nfeared to face her husband, and repented bitterly of her evil deed.\nBut it was too late.  All she could do was to grant to the birds the\nuse of their native speech, their human reason, and the power of\nsinging plaintive fairy music, so sweet that those who heard it\nshould be soothed and calmed, however sad and angry they had been\nbefore.\n\nA terrible punishment overtook their wicked persecutor.  When the\nKing of that country heard of her cruel deed, he sent for her, and\nasked: \"What shape of all others on the earth, or below the earth, or\nover the earth, do you most abhor?\"  She replied: \"A demon of the\nair.\"\n\nThen the King pronounced judgment on her: \"A demon of the air shalt\nthou be till the end of time.\"\n\nMeantime hundreds of years passed away, and still the beautiful swans\nswam up and down their lake and looked for deliverance.  Sometimes\nthey took flight, and entered the Western Sea, and sailed around the\ncoast; but all Ireland was in heathen darkness, and never the sound\nof a Christian bell was heard.\n\nThe dwellers of those coast lands used to visit the shore in crowds\nto hear their sweet music and watch their graceful movements.  But\nafter a time they were caught by the strong current of Mull, and this\ndrove the fair birds into the stormy seas between Erin and Alba.\nHere they endured many a woe; for sometimes they were separated from\none another by the storm and darkness, and sometimes they were almost\nfrozen to death in the icy floods.  And so, tormented by the restless\nwaves and the chill winds of winter, they waited for three hundred\nyears.  But one soft spring morning, when the ice-floes had drifted\naway and the wind sang gently over the mountains, as they floated\nalong their own Lake Dairbreak, they heard the sound of a Christian\nbell.  For St Patrick had come to Ireland with the glad Gospel news,\nand everywhere men were building churches, and hastening to fill them\nwith worshippers.\n\nSo when the sound of the distant bell floated over the water, the\nspell was broken, and the Children of Lir returned to their own\nshapes.  But they had lived so long that, after they had learnt the\nChristian faith, they were glad to lie down and rest for ever.  They\nwere all buried in the self-same tomb, and after their death men made\nsongs about them; and every Irish boy and girl to this day loves to\nhear the story of the Swan-Children of Lir.\n\n\n_From the earliest mythological cycle of Celtic poems.  No copy of it\nis found in writing till the early seventeenth century._\n\n\n\n\nThe Quest of the Seven Champions\n\n\nI. The Seven Champions of Arthur\n\nThese stories were told in old days to British boys and girls as they\nsat round the fireside and heard the wind outside skirling among the\nwild Welsh hills.  But, no doubt, in time they crossed the border,\nand were told also to English children, such as most of you, who knew\nand loved the charming tales of Arthur and his knights.\n\nIn the days of King Arthur there lived a noble young prince named\nKilhugh, to whom it had been foretold that he should never marry\nuntil he could win for his wife the maiden Olwen, daughter of\nThornogre Thistlehair, the Chief of the Giants.  But, though he was\nfull of love towards the very name of the unknown maid, he could not\nfind out where she lived, nor could anyone tell him anything about\nher.\n\nHe was not cast down, however, but set off upon his steed of dappled\ngrey to seek help from his kinsman Arthur.  A fine sight he was,\nindeed, as he rode along on his prancing horse.  His bridle was made\nof golden chains, his saddle-cloth of fine purple, from the corners\nof which hung four golden apples of great value.\n\nHis slung war horn was of ivory, his sword of gold, inlaid with a\ncross that shone like the lightning of heaven; his stirrups also were\nof pure gold.  Two spears with silver shafts were in his hand, and\ntwo beautiful greyhounds, wearing collars set with rubies, sprang\nbefore him \"like two sea-swallows sporting.\"  So lightly did his\ncharger step that the blades of grass did not bend beneath his tread.\n\nAt length he came to Arthur's castle, and having with much difficulty\nsatisfied the Chief of the Porters of the Gate, a sturdy warrior\nknown as the Dusky Hero with the Mighty Grasp, he made his way into\nArthur's presence, and told the King his story.\n\n\"This one boon I crave of thee, O King,\" he ended, \"that thou wilt\nobtain for me Olwen, the daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of\nthe Giants, to be my bride.  I ask it of thee and of all thy valiant\nknights, for the sake of all the fair ladies who have ever lived in\nthis land.\"\n\nThen Arthur said: \"My Prince, I have never heard of this maiden, nor\nof her kindred, but messengers shall at once set forth to seek her if\nthou wilt give them time.\"\n\nSo it was agreed that, this being New Year's Day, they should be\ngiven until the last day of the year for their quest.\n\nThe messengers of Arthur set forth in haste, each taking a different\nway.  They travelled throughout all the land of Britain, the \"Island\nof the Mighty,\" and then to foreign lands, asking as they went: \"Dost\nthou know aught of Olwen, the daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair,\nChief of the Giants?\"\n\nBut everyone said \"No.\"\n\nAt length came the end of the year, and on the appointed day the\nmessengers appeared in the wide White Hall of Arthur's castle, and\nall alike declared that they had no news whatever to declare\nconcerning the maiden Olwen.\n\nThen Kilhugh was very angry, and said in hasty words: \"I alone am\ndenied by my lord the gift I ask.  I will depart from hence at once,\nand take with me the honour of Arthur, whom men call the most\nhonourable King.\"  But Kai, one of the knights, reproved him for his\nangry speech, and offered to go forth with him and any others who\nwould accompany them, saying:\n\n\"We will not part till we have found the maiden, or till thou art\nforced to own she is not among those who dwell on this earth.\"\n\nSo Arthur chose six of his knights to go forth with Prince Kilhugh\nupon his quest.\n\nFirst came Kai, whose offer had but just been spoken.  An excellent\nspy and sentinel was he, for he could make himself as tall as the\ntallest tree in the forest, and so scan all the country round.  He\ncould hide himself under water, and lie hidden in lake or river for\nnine days and nights if need be.  Such fire was in his nature that\nwhen they needed warmth his companions had but to kindle the piled\nwood at his finger; he could walk through torrents of rain as dry as\non a summer's day; he could go for nine days and nights without\nsleep, and no doctor could heal the wound made by his sword.\n\nNext came Sir Bedivere, close brother-in-arms to Kai, the swiftest\nrunner, save Arthur himself and one other, in all the land.\nOne-handed was he, yet he could give more wounds in battle than any\nthree warriors together.\n\nThen followed Uriel, who understood the speech of all men and all\nbeasts; and Gawain, who was called the \"Hawk of May,\" because he\nnever returned from any undertaking until it had been performed by\nhim.\n\nThe fifth to answer Arthur's call was Merlin, a master of magic, who\nknew how to put a spell upon the knights that would render them\ninvisible.\n\nLast came Peregrine the Guide, who knew how to find the way as well\nin a strange country as in his own.\n\n\"Go forth, O Chieftains,\" said the King, \"and follow the Prince upon\nthis quest; and great shall be the fame of your adventure.\"\n\nSo the Seven Champions rode forth through the great gates of the\npalace, and set out with high hearts to seek for Olwen, daughter of\nThornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants.\n\n\n\n  II. How the Seven Champions found Olwen\n  of the White Footprints\n\nOnward and onward rode Kilhugh and the six knights until they came at\nlength to a vast plain, stretching in every direction farther than\nthe eye could reach.  Over it they rode, and at length perceived\nthrough the misty air the towers and battlements of a great castle\nfar away on the borders of the moorland.  They rode towards this\ncastle all day long, but yet they never seemed to get any nearer.\n\nAll the next day they went on riding, and still the castle seemed as\nfar away as ever.  The third evening brought them no nearer.  At\nlength Sir Gawain exclaimed: \"This must be Fleeting Castle, which can\nalways be seen from a distance, but can never be actually reached.\"\n\nNow, on the fourth day, to their surprise, the castle no longer\nadvanced before them as they approached, and soon they were able to\ndraw rein before it, and to wonder in amazement at the thousands of\nsheep which fed upon the plains surrounding its massive walls.  Near\nby sat the shepherd with his dog, tending this enormous flock.  The\nshepherd was a giant in size, and was dressed in the skins of wild\nbeasts.  The dog was larger than a full-grown horse; he had the\nshaggiest of coats, and, though an excellent sheep-dog, was\ndestructive enough elsewhere, for with his fiery breath he would burn\nup all the dry bushes and dead trees in that region.\n\nThe Champions looked somewhat doubtfully at this great animal, and\nKai suggested to Uriel that as he knew all tongues, he had better go\nand speak to the shepherd.\n\n\"Not I,\" answered Uriel.  \"I agreed when we set out to go just as far\nas thou, and no farther.\"\n\nBut Merlin came to them, and explained that he had cast a spell over\nthe dog, so that he could not hurt them.  So Kilhugh and Kai and\nUriel went together to the shepherd, and asked him very politely who\nowned that countless flock of sheep, and who lived in yonder castle.\n\n\"Where have ye lived not to know that?\" cried the shepherd.\n\"Everyone in the world ought to know that this is the Castle of\nThornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants.\"\n\n\"And who art thou?\" they asked.\n\n\"I am Constantine, the brother of Thorn ogre Thistlehair,\" replied\nthe man, with an angry look.  \"A fine brother indeed has he been to\nme!  He has taken from me all my lands and possessions, and now I am\nobliged to earn a living by feeding his sheep.\"\n\nThen he asked them why they came, and when they replied that they\nwere seeking for Olwen, daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, he sadly\nshook his head.\n\n\"Alas!\" he said, \"no one ever tried to find her and returned from\nthis place alive.  Go back at once, lest ye all perish also.\"\n\n\"That will we never do!\" cried Kilhugh; and the Champions echoed his\nwords.\n\nThen Constantine inquired who Kilhugh was, and when he heard, he\ncried out that he was his own nephew, and begged that he and his\ncomrades would spend a night at his house, and to this they readily\nagreed.  And as a mark of affection Kilhugh gave his uncle a golden\nring; but it was much too small for the giant, who put it forthwith\ninto the finger of one of the gloves which hung from his belt as a\nsign of his rank as chieftain.  Then he signalled to his dog, who\nimmediately began to drive the sheep towards home.\n\nWhen they reached the house the giant entered first, and gave his\nwife his gloves to hold.  She soon pulled out the ring, and at once\nbegan to question him about it; so he told her that their nephew\nKilhugh, with six comrades, was even then dismounting at the door.\nThen the shepherd's wife was glad, and ran forth with hands\noutstretched to clasp him in her arms; but so big and strong was she\nthat, as Kai quickly saw, no knight could survive her embrace.  So as\nshe threw her arms round Kilhugh's neck, he snatched up a log of\nfirewood, and pushed it into her arms instead of the young prince;\nand when she unloosed it, it was twisted out of all shape.  It was\nsomewhat to their relief, therefore, when she took them into the\nhouse without further embracing, and set them down to supper.  This\nwas a very frugal meal, and served with great simplicity, for\nThornogre had not left his brother so much as a silver goblet or a\nsingle chair in his barren hall.\n\nWhen they had supped, the shepherd's wife asked Kai and Uriel to stay\nbehind after the rest had gone out to the courtyard, and, taking them\nto the chimney-corner, she opened a great stone box.  As she lifted\nthe lid, to their amazement a beautiful boy with golden, curly hair\nrose up from within.\n\n\"Pity indeed,\" exclaimed Uriel, \"to keep so handsome a child shut up\nhere.  What hath he done?\"\n\nThen the lady wept, and answered: \"All my three and twenty sons have\nbeen killed by Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants; and now my\nonly hope of keeping him alive is to hide him in this chest, where he\nhas lived ever since he was born.\"  And she wept to think that her\nboy would never have a chance of doing valiant deeds and of becoming\na great knight.  Then Kai bade her be of good cheer and let the lad\ncome with them, promising that he should not be slain unless he, Kai,\nwere killed as well.\n\nShe agreed to this very gladly, and asked them why they had come to\nthat region.  But when she knew they had come to seek for Olwen, she\nadvised them strongly to go home, since in that very quest all her\nthree and twenty sons had perished.\n\nThey laughed at her fears, however, and asked if the maiden ever came\nto the shepherd's house.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the shepherd's wife; \"she comes every Saturday to wash\nher hair.  She leaves behind her all her jewels and rings in the\nwater which she uses, and never asks for them again.\"\n\nThen they begged her to ask fair Olwen to visit her at once, and she\nagreed, on condition that they would not carry her off against her\nwill.\n\nTo this the Champions agreed, and sat waiting in a hall for the\ncoming of the maiden.\n\nVery fair she looked as she approached, dressed in a robe of\nflame-coloured silk, and wearing a jewelled collar of gold round her\nneck.\n\nMore yellow was her hair than the flower of the broom, and her skin\nwas whiter than the foam of the wave; and fairer were her hands and\nfingers than the blossoms of the wood-anemone amidst the spray of the\nmeadow fountain.  The eye of the trained hawk, the glance of the\nfalcon were not brighter than hers.  Her bosom was more snowy than\nthe breast of the white swan; her cheek was redder than the reddest\nroses.  Whoso beheld her was filled with love of her.  Four white\ntrefoils sprang up wherever she trod; therefore was she called Olwen\nof the White Footprints.\n\nHaving entered the house she sat down by Kilhugh, who at once loved\nher greatly, and began to pray her to come away with him, and be his\nwife.  But Olwen, though she returned his affection, answered that\nshe had promised her father not to go away without his leave.  She\nalso told him that Thornogre knew that her bridal day was fated to be\nthe day of his death, so that he would withhold his leave as long as\npossible.  She advised him, however, to go to her father, and to\ngrant him everything he demanded, and so in time he should win her\nhand; but if he denied the giant's least request, he would lose both\nher and his own life.\n\nWhen she had said this, she returned to the castle.\n\n\n\nIII. The Impossible Tasks set by Thornogre Thistlehair\n\nThe Seven Champions now determined to make their way to the castle,\nand force an entrance to the hall of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of\nthe Giants.  It was very dark when they set out, but they easily\nfound their way by the trail of white trefoils which the footprints\nof Olwen had left.\n\nThe castle was guarded by nine warders at the gate and nine\nwatch-dogs along the road which led up to it; but a strange silence\nhad fallen upon both men and beasts, and the Champions slew them all\nwithout a sound being heard.\n\nThen they passed through the great door, and entered the hall of the\ncastle.\n\nJust opposite the entrance sat Thornogre Thistlehair upon a high,\nwide throne.  He was terrible to look upon.  His eyebrows were so\nlong and bushy that they fell over his eyes like a curtain, and he\nwas taller and broader than three other giants put together.  Close\nby his hand lay three poisoned darts.\n\nAfter they had greeted him courteously, he asked who they were; and\nthey replied that they were come from Arthur's Court to ask that\nOlwen, his daughter, should marry Kilhugh the Prince.  Then the giant\nroared for his pages to come and prop up his eyebrows, that he might\nsee what sort of son-in-law was proposed for him.\n\nSo when they had propped up his eyebrows he looked angrily at\nKilhugh, and bade him come the next day for his answer.\n\nBut as they went out of the hall, the giant threw one of his poisoned\ndarts at them.  Sir Bedivere caught it just in time and threw it back\nso neatly that it caught the giant in the knee.  Then they laughed,\nand withdrew, leaving him to storm at them, declaring that the great\nwound hurt him as much as the sting of a gadfly, and that he might\nnever be able to walk quite so well again.\n\nAt dawn the next day they returned to the castle, and again demanded\nthe hand of fair Olwen in marriage.  But the giant replied: \"I can do\nnaught in this matter till I have consulted her four\ngreat-grandmothers and her four great-grandfathers.  Come again for\nmy answer.\"\n\nSo they turned to leave the hall; but as they went the giant snatched\nup the second of his poisoned darts, and flung it after them.  Merlin\ncaught it deftly, however, and threw it back with such force that it\nentered his chest, and stuck out through his back.  This left him\ngrumbling that never again would he be able to climb a hill without\nlosing breath, and fearing lest he now might sometimes suffer from\npains in the chest.\n\nThe third time they visited the giant he was on his guard, and\nshouted to them not to dare throw any more darts on pain of death.\nThen he roared to his pages to lift up his eyebrows, and when they\nhad done it, he snatched up the third poisoned dart, and flung it at\nthem without more ado.\n\nBut Kilhugh caught it this time, and cast it back at him, so that it\npierced one of his eyes.  Then, while he grumbled that now his sight\nwould not be so good as before, they went out to dine.\n\nThese events made the giant treat his visitors on their next arrival\nwith more civility; besides, he had no more poisoned darts.  He once\nmore inquired why they had come, and when he realised that Kilhugh\nwas determined to marry Olwen, he made him promise that he would do\nall that he required of him in return for his agreement to the\nmarriage.  Kilhugh, mindful of Olwen's warning that he was to agree\nto perform whatever her father proposed, gave a ready promise, and\nbade him ask away.\n\nThen did Thornogre Thistlehair propound to him forty Impossible\nThings, of which these seven are the chief:\n\nFirstly, he must gather nine bushels of flax sown hundreds of years\nago in a field of red earth, of which never a seed had sprouted.  Not\none grain of the measure must be missing, and they must be sown again\nin a freshly ploughed field to make flax for Olwen's wedding veil.\n\nSecondly, he must find Mabon, the son of Modron, who was stolen from\nhis mother when three days old, and had not since been heard of.\n\nThirdly, he must find the Cauldron of Cruseward the Cauldron-Keeper,\nin which, if one tries to cook food for a coward, one may wait for\never for the water to boil, but if for a brave man the meal is ready\ndirectly it is placed therein.  In this cauldron must all the food\nfor the wedding feast be prepared.\n\nFourthly, since the giant must shave for the wedding, he must obtain\nfor a razor the tusk of the Boar-headed Branch-breaker, which to be\nof any use must be taken from his skull while he yet lived.\n\nFifthly, since the giant must wash his hair, all matted together as\nit was, for the wedding, he must bring to him the Charmed Balsam kept\nby the Jet-Black Sorceress, daughter of the Snow-White Sorceress,\nfrom the Source of the Brook of Sorrow, at the edge of the Twilight\nLand.\n\nSixthly, that the giant's hair might be smoothed and combed he must\nbring the scissors and the comb that are found between the ears of\nBurstingboar, the Wide-Waster, since they alone would perform the\noperation without breaking.\n\nSeventhly, he must obtain the sword of Garnard the Giant, since that\nalone would kill the Wide-Waster, from whom, unless he were killed,\nthe comb and scissors could never be obtained.\n\nWhen he had made an end of speaking, the giant jeered at the Prince,\nwho, unless he could do all these impossible things, might never wed\nhis daughter.  But Kilhugh answered with a high heart: \"I have\nknights for my companions, horses and hounds, and Arthur is my\nkinsman.  I shall do all that thou requirest, thou wicked giant, and\nshall win thy daughter, but thou shalt lose thy life.\"\n\n\n\nIV. Two of the Impossible Tasks are fulfilled\n\nScarcely had the Seven Champions left the castle of Thornogre\nThistlehair when they were joined by the fair-haired son of the\nshepherd, who had lived all his life in the chest.  Eager to make a\ngreat name for himself he implored them to let him accompany them,\nwhich accordingly they did.  Then they turned their faces towards\nArthur's castle.\n\nAt evening-time they reached the gates of a very great castle, the\nlargest in the world, and as they pulled up their horses before it,\nan enormous black giant came out of the gate, and looked at them very\nhard.  They greeted him politely, and asked whose castle this was.\n\n\"'Tis the castle of Garnard the Giant,\" he answered.\n\nThey looked at each other with glee, for one of the appointed tasks\nwas to obtain the sword of this very giant.  Then they asked if he\nwere used to treat strangers courteously.\n\nThe black man shook his head.  \"No stranger ever entered that castle\nand came out alive,\" said he; \"but ye have little chance of entrance,\nfor no traveller is permitted to enter who knows no handicraft.\"\n\nThe Seven Champions on hearing this rode on to the entrance gate, and\ncalled for admittance.  The porter refused, however, saying that\nthere was revelry within, and that no man set foot inside who did not\nbring his craft with him.  But Kai declared that he was a burnisher\nof swords, and that no man could excel him at that trade, whereupon\nthe porter went to report the matter to Garnard the Giant.  Now, it\nso happened that Garnard had long wished for one who could brighten\nand clean his sword, so he bade the porter to admit him.\n\nSo Kai entered alone, and was brought before the giant, who ordered\nhis sword to be brought to him.  Then Kai drew out his whetstone,\nand, first asking if he required it to glitter with a blue or a white\nlustre, he polished half the blade, and returned it to the giant,\nsaying: \"How is that?\"\n\nThe giant was highly pleased.  \"If the rest of my sword can be made\nto look like that,\" said he, \"I shall value it above all my\ntreasures.  But how comes it that so clever a craftsman is wandering\nabout alone without a companion?\"\n\n\"But I have a companion,\" said Kai--\"a cunning craftsman, too, though\nnot at this work.  Send, I pray you, and admit him.  And the porter\nshall know him by this sign: the head of his lance shall spring into\nthe air, draw blood from the wind, and return to its place again.\"\n\nThen the porter opened the gate, and Bedivere marched into the hall,\nready for what might befall, and stood watching Kai as he went on\npolishing the sword.  This being done, to gain more time he asked for\nthe sheath, and he fell to mending it and putting in new sides of\nwood.\n\nMeantime, as he had hoped, while all the porters and followers of the\ngiant stood gaping round him, the young son of the herdsman had\nmanaged to climb over the castle wall, and to help his companions\nover also, whereupon they were able to make their way to\nhiding-places behind doors and pillars, from which they could see the\ncompany in the hall without being seen themselves.\n\nBy this time Kai had finished both sword and scabbard, and, stepping\nup to the giant's great chair, pretended to hand them to him.  But,\nas the giant was off his guard, he lifted the sword, and brought it\ndown on Garnard's neck, so that he cut off his head.  Before his\nfollowers could lay hands on Kai and Bedivere, the knights rushed out\nupon them, and slew them all.  Then, having loaded themselves with\ngold and jewels, but above all with the precious sword, they set\nforth again for Arthur's palace.\n\nThis time they reached it in safety, and, having told their story,\nasked the advice of the King as to which of the six remaining quests\nthey should first undertake.  To seek out Mabon, the son of Modron,\nwas Arthur's decision; and for this undertaking he chose Uriel\nbecause he could understand the speech of both animals and birds, as\nwell as that of all strange men; and Idwel, because he was Mabon's\nkinsman, with Kai and Bedivere, because they were known never to turn\nback from any adventure until it was accomplished.\n\nSo these four set out upon their quest.\n\nNow, Mabon had been lost so long ago that not the oldest man on the\nearth, nor their great-grandfathers before them, had ever heard\nanything at all about him.  But Idwel remembered that many birds and\nbeasts live much longer than the oldest man, so they determined to\nseek out the oldest of these.\n\n\"And who,\" said they, \"could be older than the Ousel of Deepdell?\nLet us seek her help.\"\n\nSo they made their way through a great forest till they came to a\nshadowy place, where on a small stone sat the Ousel of Deepdell; and\nher they implored to tell them if she knew anything of Mabon, son of\nModron, who was taken from between his mother and the wall when he\nwas only three days old.\n\n\"When I first came here,\" answered the Ousel gravely, \"I was but a\nfledgling.  On this spot where I now sit stood a smith's stone anvil.\nSince then no hand has touched it, but every evening I have pecked at\nit with my beak as I smoothed my feathers before sleeping.  Now all\nthat remains of it is this little pebble upon which I sit.  Yet\nthrough all the years that have passed while this change took place I\nhave never heard of Mabon, the son of Modron.  But do not despair: I\nwill take you to a race of creatures who were made before me, and\nthem ye shall inquire of again.\"\n\nThen she took them to a place where, at the foot of an ancient oak,\nlay the Stag of the Fern Brake.  Of him they once more asked the\nquestion: \"Dost thou know anything of Mabon, son of Modron, parted\nfrom his mother when three days old?\"\n\nThe Stag answered: \"When first I came here this great forest was a\nvast plain, in which grew one little oak sapling.  This sapling\nbecame in time an oak-tree, and after its long lifetime gradually\ndecayed until it became this stump.  Now, an oak-tree is three\nhundred years in growing, three hundred years in its full strength,\nand three hundred years in its decay.  Yet in all this time I have\nnever heard aught of Mabon, son of Modron.  But, since ye are\nArthur's knights, I will take you to one who was made before my\ntime.\"  Then he led them to the Owl of Darkdingle.\n\n\"When first I came here,\" said the Owl from his dark cavernous home\nwhen he heard their question, \"this valley was covered with a vast\nwood.  It decayed away, and another grew up, and after that had\nwithered away, a third, which now ye see.  But never have I heard of\nthe man whom ye seek.  Yet, since ye are Arthur's knights, I will\ntake ye to the oldest creature in the world--to the Eagle of the\nAldergrove.\"\n\nSo thither they went, and when he heard their question the Eagle\nanswered: \"When I first arrived, there was a rock in this place so\nhigh that I could perch on its top and peck at the stars, and so long\nhave I been here that now it is but a few inches high.  Never have I\nheard of this man save once, and that was when I visited the Lone\nLake.  There I stuck my claws into a salmon, hoping to kill him for\nmy supper; but he dragged me into deep water, so that I barely\nescaped with my life.  But when I went with all my band to slay him,\nhe sent ambassadors, and made good peace with me, and came and begged\nme to take fifty fish-spears out of his back.  He, if anyone can,\nwill tell you what you want to know, and I will be your guide to him.\"\n\nSo they journeyed on till they reached a great blue lake, hidden in\nthe depths of the forest, and there they found the Salmon of the Lone\nLake.  He heard their question, and looking at them very wisely,\nreplied: \"Such wrong as I have never found elsewhere have I found\nunder the walls of Gloucester Castle, on the River Severn, up which I\ntravel with every tide.  And that ye may know it is so, come, two of\nye, and travel thither upon my shoulders.\"\n\nThen Kai and Uriel came down to the water, and stood upon the\nshoulders of the Salmon of Lane Lake, who swam with them down the\nSevern, and brought them under the walls of Gloucester Castle.\n\n\"Hark!\" said the Salmon; and as they listened, a voice was heard from\nthe dungeon wall wailing in deepest sorrow and woe.  Then Uriel\ncried: \"Whose voice is this that moans within this gloomy cell?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" wailed the voice, \"'tis that of Mabon, the son of Modron,\nshut up eternally in the prison of Gwyn, son of Nith, King of Faerie.\nHere I, the Elfin Huntsman, ever young, am shut out eternally from\nthe sight of wood and fell and the joyful chase which is my\nbirthright.\"\n\n\"Canst thou be ransomed with silver and gold?\" asked Uriel.\n\n\"No,\" answered Mabon; \"if ever I am rescued from this cruel place it\nmust be by battle and strife.\"\n\nThen Uriel and Kai returned to their companions.\n\nSeeing that this was the kind of adventure that Arthur loved, they\njourneyed back to the King, and told him all.  So he prepared a great\narmy, and marched by land to attack Gloucester Castle.  But while he\nfought before the gates, Kai and Bedivere had sailed down the river\non the shoulders of the Salmon of Lone Lake, and, finding the\nwater-side portion of the Castle unprotected, they broke through the\nwall, and carried off Mabon, the son of Modron, and he returned with\nthem to Arthur's Court.\n\n\n\nV. How Prince Kilhugh won his Bride\n\nWhile Arthur and his knights were discussing which of the Impossible\nTasks should next be undertaken, it so happened that a certain\nprince, named Gwyther, who was also one of Arthur's knights, was\nwalking over a mountain in his own country, the Land of the Dawn.\n\nAnd as he walked, deep in thought, he heard a sad little cry.  Up and\ndown he looked, but nothing could he see that could explain such\nmournful cry.  But presently it came again from under his very feet,\nand there he saw an ant-hill.  Inside the ant-hill the little\ncreatures were wailing piteously, for the heath on the mountain-side\nwas afire, and in a short time their kingdom would be all in a blaze.\n\nThen Prince Gwyther drew his sword, and cut off the ant-hill at a\nblow, and threw it into a place of safety.\n\n\"Our grateful thanks are thine,\" cried the ants.  \"Now tell us what\nwe can do for thee in return, Prince Gwyther of the Land of the Dawn.\"\n\nThe Prince pondered a moment, and then replied: \"All the world knows\nthat Kilhugh, one of the Companions of Arthur, seeking the hand of\nthe fair Olwen, is required by her father to bring him the nine\nbushels of flax seed sown in his field to make the wedding veil for\nhis bride.  If one grain is missing the marriage will be forbidden;\nand, though we are Arthur's knights, not one of us can find these\ntiny seeds.  Now, can ye do this task for me?\"\n\n\"That will we joyfully,\" cried the ants, and they made their way in\nhaste to the field of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants.\n\n[Illustration: PRINCE GWYTHER AND THE BUSHEL MEASURE]\n\nWhen evening began to fall they returned to the Land of the Dawn,\nwhere Prince Gwyther had set up a bushel measure.  Up its sides they\nclimbed, each with a seed in its mouth; and nine times they filled\nthe measure, until only one seed was wanting.  \"'Tis well,\" they\ncried; \"the lame emmet has not yet come home.\"  And before nightfall\nthe lame emmet toiled up to the bushel measure, and dropped in the\nlast seed.\n\nSo the nine bushels of flax seed were taken to the castle of Arthur,\nand given to Prince Kilhugh.\n\nThen said King Arthur: \"Let us now go to Ireland to seek for the\nCauldron of Cruseward the Steward of Odgar, the Irish King.\"\n\nNow, this cauldron, as you will remember, was of such a kind that\nwhen food for a coward was cooked in it the food remained as it was\nat first, but if for a brave man it was ready for eating directly it\nwas placed in the pot.  So it was very precious; and when Arthur's\nrequest for it was received by Odgar, Cruseward replied in wrath:\n\"Not a glimpse of my cauldron shall he obtain, even if it would give\nhim all the blessings in the world; much less will I give it him\naltogether.\"\n\nThen Arthur called together his men of war, and sailed over the\nstormy seas to Ireland.  When the people saw him in battle array,\nthey were afraid, and counselled Odgar to receive him peaceably.  So\nOdgar sent friendly messages, and invited him to a banquet in his\npalace.\n\nNow when the banquet was over, Odgar was about to give presents to\nhis guests, but Arthur would take nothing.  He wanted naught, he\nsaid, but the Cauldron of Cruseward.  When Cruseward heard this, he\nthundered out: \"Nay, King Arthur, I will never give it to thee.  If\nthou couldst have it for the asking it would have been given at the\nbidding of King Odgar, not at thine.\"\n\nWhen Bedivere heard this rude reply he was very angry, and, rushing\nupon him, seized the cauldron, and set it on the shoulders of\nArthur's Cauldron-Bearer.  Then swords were drawn, and the men of\nArthur's host fell upon Cruseward and his followers, and slew them.\nThus they carried off the cauldron, and bore it, full of Irish gold,\nback to the Island of the Mighty.\n\nAfter this adventure they set forth to obtain the Charmed Balsam that\nwas guarded by the Jet-Black Sorceress, daughter of the Snow-White\nSorceress, at the Brook of Sorrow, on the edge of the Twilight Land.\nAnd when they approached the dismal cavern where she dwelt, King\nArthur was joined by Gwyn of the Twilight Land, and Gwyther from the\nLand of the Dawn, who, knowing the Sorceress and her power, advised\nthat two of his attendants should first be sent into the cave.\nDirectly the first appeared the Sorceress seized him by the hair, and\nthrew him down, and trampled on him.  The second dragged her away\nfrom him, but could do nothing against her, for she kicked them and\nbeat them and thrust them forth again.\n\nThen Arthur would have gone in himself; but Prince Gywn and Prince\nGwyther prevented him, saying it would not be a fitting adventure for\nso great a king, and persuaded him to send in the two Tall Brothers.\nBut these two were so ill treated by the Sorceress that they came out\nmore dead than alive, and had to be lifted on to their horses.  Then,\nwhen he saw his followers so ill used, nothing could keep Arthur\nback.  He rushed into the cave, and with one stroke of his dagger,\nkilled the wicked Sorceress, while Kai carried off the Charmed Balsam.\n\nThey next set out to hunt the Boar-headed Branch-breaker; but soon\nthey heard that no man could pluck out the tusk from the living head\nof this terrible animal but Odgar, King of Ireland.\n\nWith some difficulty they persuaded him to accompany them; but at\nlength the huntsmen gathered together, with him at their head, and a\ngreat hunt for the boar began.  The swiftest dogs could not bring the\nanimal to bay, until at length Arthur's own hound, Cavall, brought\nhim to the ground, and Odgar rushed up to pull out the tusk; but he\nwould have been killed, had not Kai been there to strike the\nBranch-breaker down directly Odgar had plucked it out.\n\nThere yet remained to seek out the jewelled scissors and comb that\nwere between the ears of Burstingboar, the Wide-Waster.\n\nNow, this Burstingboar had laid waste a great part of Ireland, so\nthat all men went in terror of him; and, that the heroes might not be\nmisled about the curious things said to lie between his ears, Merlin\nwas sent to Ireland to seek him out and see if it were as the giant\nhad said.\n\nSo Merlin tracked Burstingboar to his den on Cold Blast Ridge, and,\nhaving changed himself into a bird, flew down into a thicket close\nby.  From thence he could see the creature lying on the ground, with\nhis seven young boars at his side, and between his ears twinkled the\njewels of the scissors and the comb.  Then Merlin thought it was a\nsad thing that the heroes should lose their lives for such things,\nand determined to try to carry them off himself.  So he flew upon the\nhead of Burstingboar, and tried to snatch up the razor; but all he\nreally got was a great bristle.  Then Burstingboar rose up in a great\nrage, foaming at the mouth.  He could see no one; but a fleck of the\npoisonous foam fell upon Merlin, and hurt him so that he never quite\nrecovered.\n\nWhen he heard this news, Arthur gathered together such a number of\nbrave knights and squires that the Irish feared he was about to\nattack their land, but when he told them he had come to deliver them\nfrom the dreaded Burstingboar, their joy knew no bounds.  And so it\nwas arranged that those Irish who had joined his host should first\nattack the boar; then, if he still lived, he should be attacked by\nArthur's own knights; and if by that time he were not slain, Arthur\nshould himself hunt him on the third day.\n\nBut the first day and the second saw the boar triumphant; and when\nArthur took his turn he fought for nine days and nights without even\nwounding the creature or one of his cubs.  At the end of that time\nall the knights besought Arthur to tell them the secret about the\nboar, which all this time he had kept.\n\nThen Arthur told them that the creature had once been a king, but for\nhis sins and his great pride had been changed into a boar.  And he\nsent Uriel to confer with him concerning the jewelled comb and\nscissors.  But when Uriel spoke gently to him, bidding him deliver\nthese up at the request of Arthur, the boar grew very fierce, and\nsaid: \"Not only shall Arthur never even see these jewels, but I with\nmy young ones will go forthwith and harry the land of Arthur, doing\nall the hurt to it that we can.\"\n\nWhen they heard this news all the host arose at dawn to prevent them\nleaving Ireland; but when they looked towards the sea, there was the\nboar with his young ones swimming far away to the coast of Britain.\nAnd before the King could cross the Irish Sea, the boars had landed\nat Milford Haven, and destroyed every living thing in the\nneighbourhood.\n\nThen terror fell on all the land, and eagerly men looked for Arthur\nto come to their aid, who, when he arrived, set out at once with a\ncrowd of mighty huntsmen to kill the beasts.  But it was exceeding\nhard to find the boar, though his tracks were well marked by the ruin\nof flocks and men; and when they did come up with him, he slew with\nhis mighty tusks a full half-dozen of Arthur's followers, and dashed\noff to a mountain-top, where they lost all sign of him: neither man\nnor dog could tell whither he had disappeared.\n\nAt last they heard that the boars were ravaging a valley some miles\naway.  Thither they followed, and after a hard struggle they killed\nthe young boars one by one.  But after a long pursuit Burstingboar\nvanished again, so completely this time that the host returned to\nCornwall, thinking he must have left the land.\n\nScarcely had Arthur entered his palace when a breathless messenger\nrushed into the hall.\n\n\"Arise!\" he cried.  \"The boar is ruining thy domain, trampling down\ntowers and towns, uprooting trees, and killing men and cattle on all\nsides, and he is now coming over the mountains to do the same in\nCornwall.\"\n\nThen Arthur made this speech to his followers:\n\n\"Men of the Island of the Mighty, Burstingboar, the Wide-Waster, has\nslain many of our bravest men, but he shall never enter Cornwall\nwhile I live.  You may do as you please; but for me, I will no longer\nhunt him, but shall meet him face to face.\"\n\nForthwith he posted men at various spots to prevent the creature from\nlanding, and then rode up to the river's brink.  As he arrived,\nsuddenly, with a great rush, Burstingboar sprang out of the forest,\nand tried to cross on his way to Cornwall.  But Arthur and his\ncompanions drove their horses into the water, and followed him, and\nsomehow or other seized him by his fore feet as he scrambled up the\nbank, and flung him back into the river; and as he fell, Mabon, the\nson of Modron, caught the razor from behind one of his ears, and\nKenneder the Wild snatched the scissors from behind the other.\n\nYet, even while they did this, Burstingboar upreared himself from the\nwater, dashed up the river-bank, and disappeared.  Then all the host\nfollowed, but they only came up to him when he had got well into\nCornwall.  Then a desperate fight began.  By harassing him all day\nthey managed to keep him from ravaging the land, and when he tried to\nget into Devon they were too many for him.  Over the moors, down the\ncoombs, up the hills, they chased him, till at length, being\ndesperate, he turned, and made for the sea.  In he plunged, but,\nthough the pursuing horses stayed their feet at the water's edge,\nthose two good hounds, Raceapace and Boundoft, who had followed him\nso long, could not hold themselves back, but plunged in after him\ninto the waves.  For long the heroes watched his course, with those\ntwo fierce dogs close behind him; but from that day to this nothing\nmore has ever been heard of either Burstingboar or the two hounds.\n\nNow, all the Impossible Tasks had been fulfilled, and joyfully did\nPrince Kilhugh ride to the giant's castle to claim his bride.  But\nThornogre Thistlehair looked on in gloomy silence as the marvels were\nspread out before him; he allowed himself to be shaven and combed;\nbut though he could not refuse to give the Prince his daughter's\nhand, he openly said that he did it with no good will.  Then the\nherdsman's son stood forth, and cried: \"O giant, three and twenty of\nmy brothers thou hast foully slain, and defrauded my father of his\nheritage.  For these things thou shalt surely die by my hand to-day.\"\n\nSo he dragged him by his hair to the castle battlements, and, being\nvery strong, he slew him there, and cut off his head.  And the castle\nwas given to the herdsman; but Kilhugh married fair Olwen, and they\nwere happy ever after as long as they both lived.\n\n\n_From the \"Mabinogion,\" A Welsh Romance.  Thirteenth century_ A.D.\n\n\n\n\nThe Lady of the Fountain\n\n\nI. The Tale of Kynon\n\nKynon was the only son of his father and mother, and a very brave and\ndaring young knight.  He thought there was nothing in the world too\nmighty for him to do; and after he had achieved all the possible\nadventures in his own country, he equipped himself with horse and\narmour, and went forth to journey in desert and unknown lands.\n\nOne day it chanced that he came to the fairest valley in the world,\nwhere all the trees grew to the same height; a river ran through the\nvalley, and a path was by the side of the river.  He followed this\npath till midday, and travelled along the remainder of the valley\ntill evening, and at length came to a large and shining castle, at\nthe foot of which was a rushing torrent.  Before the gates stood two\nyouths with yellow, curling locks, wearing golden frontlets upon\ntheir heads and garments of yellow satin, with gold clasps on their\ninsteps.  Each of them held in his hand an ivory bow, and their\narrows were winged with peacock's feathers.  Their daggers had blades\nof gold and hilts of whalebone, and they played with them as they\nstood, shooting them to and fro.  They allowed Kynon to pass into the\ncourtyard, and there he saw a man, in the prime of life, also clad in\na robe of yellow satin, and round the top of his yellow mantle was a\nband of gold lace.  He received Kynon with great courtesy, and at\nonce conducted him into the hall of the castle.  In the hall sat four\nand twenty damsels embroidering satin at a window, and they were all\nso very fair that the eyes of Kynon were almost dazzled at the sight\nof so much beauty.  They rose at his coming, and six of them took his\nhorse, and unbuckled his armour; six more took his weapons, and\nwashed them in a basin till they shone like the sun; another six\nspread cloths on the table and prepared meat; and the last six took\noff his soiled cloak and doublet, and put on garments of fine linen\nand yellow satin, with a broad gold band round the mantle.  Then they\ngave him cushions of red linen on which to sit, and brought bowls of\nsilver full of water wherein to wash, and towels, some of green\nlinen, some of white.  Presently, when all was ready, they sat down\nto eat at a silver table, with cloths of the finest linen, and the\nmeats that were brought were of the most delicious flavour in the\nworld.\n\n[Illustration: KYNON AND THE MAIDENS]\n\nAt length, when the stranger's hunger was appeased, the Man in Yellow\nbegan to inquire who he was, and what was the cause of his journey.\n\nAnd Kynon told him that he was trying to find out if anyone were his\nsuperior, or whether he could gain the mastery over all.  The Man in\nYellow smiled, saying: \"If I did not fear that harm would come to\nthee I would show thee that thou seekest.\"\n\nThen Kynon implored him to make trial of him, and at length the man\nagreed.  \"Sleep here to-night,\" said he, \"and on the morning arise\nearly, and take the road upward through the valley till you come to\nthe wood by which you came.  A little way within the wood you will\nfind a path branching off to the right.  Follow this until you come\nto a large, sheltered glade, with a mound in the centre.  On the top\nof the mound you will see a black man of great size, larger than two\nmen of this world.  He has but one foot, and one eye in the middle of\nhis forehead.  In his hand he holds a club which no two men could\nlift.  He is exceedingly ill-favoured to look at, and he is the\nwarden of that wood.  And round about him you will see grazing a\nthousand wild animals.  Inquire of him the way out of the glade, and\nhe will point out the road which will lead you to that of which you\nare in quest.\"\n\nNext morning Kynon arose very early, and rode away.  All came to pass\nas the Man in Yellow had said, except that the black man was of huger\nsize and his club looked far heavier than Kynon had been led to\nsuppose.  When Kynon saw the thousand animals browsing around the\nmound and the black man sitting on the top of it, he asked what power\nhe held over those creatures.\n\n\"I will show thee, little man,\" said he; and, taking up his club, he\nstruck one of the stags a great blow.  The stag brayed loudly, and at\nthe sound all the animals came together, as many as the stars in the\nsky, so that Kynon scarcely found room to stand.  Serpents were\nthere, and dragons, and every kind of beast.  Then the black man\nlooked at them, and bade them go feed; and they all bowed their\nheads, and did homage to him ere they departed.\n\nThen Kynon asked the way out of the glade; and when the man knew his\nreason he said to him: \"Take the path that leads towards the head of\nthe glade, and ascend the woody steeps until you reach the summit;\nthere you will find an open space like a large valley, and in the\nmidst of it a tall tree, with branches greener than the greenest\npine-trees.\n\n\"Beneath this tree is a fountain, and by the fountain a marble slab,\nand on the slab a silver bowl attached by a silver chain.  Take the\nbowl, and throw a bowlful of water on the slab, and you shall see\nwhat will happen.  And if you do not find trouble in that adventure\nyou need not seek it during the rest of your life.\"\n\nSo Kynon did as he had said, and found the fountain, and threw a\nbowlful of water upon the slab.  And immediately there came a mighty\npeal of thunder, so that the earth shook.  With the thunder came a\nshower of hailstones, so heavy that each one pierced to the bone, and\nKynon could only endure it by placing his shield over his own and his\nhorse's head.  After that the weather became fair; but when he looked\nat the tree, behold! there was not a single leaf left upon it.  Then\na flock of birds came, and alighted on the tree, and never was heard\nsuch sweet strains as those they sang; and while he was listening to\nthe birds a murmuring voice rose through the valley, like a gust of\nwind, which said:\n\n\"O knight, what has brought you hither?  What evil have I done to you\nthat you should act towards me and my possessions as you have this\nday?  Do you not know that the shower to-day has left alive neither\nbeast nor man that was exposed to it?\"\n\nScarcely had the voice died away when there appeared a knight clad in\nblack velvet, riding a coal-black horse, who made a rush at Kynon\nthen and there.  And the onset was so furious, and Kynon so little\nprepared, that he was overthrown.  Then the Black Knight passed the\nshaft of his lance through the bridle-rein of Kynon's horse, and,\nwithout a glance at his fallen adversary, rode off the way he had\ncome.  There was nothing left for the fallen knight but to make his\nway back to the castle.  The black man jeered aloud at him as he\npassed through the glade, and, with much anger and mortification, the\nknight hurried on to the castle of the Man in Yellow.  There he was\nreceived with the utmost hospitality; and no one alluded to his\nadventure, nor did he mention it to any.  On the next day he found,\nready saddled, a dark bay horse, with nostrils as red as scarlet,\nand, mounted on this, he returned to Arthur's Court.\n\n\n\nII. The Tale of Owain\n\nWhen Kynon had related at Arthur's Court the story of his adventure\nwith the Black Knight, one of his companions, Owain by name, said:\n\"Is it not befitting that one of us go and discover this place?\"\n\n\"It is very well to talk about it,\" said Sir Kai, \"but 'tis harder to\ncarry it out.\"\n\nThen Owain went away, and prepared his horse and his armour, and very\nearly next morning he rode away in the direction which Kynon had\npointed out to him.\n\nIn due time he reached the castle, and was kindly received by the Man\nin Yellow, and set down before a very excellent meal.  And the four\nand twenty maidens seemed even lovelier to Owain than they had to\nKynon.\n\nWhen they asked him his errand Owain replied that he was in quest of\nthe knight who guards the fountain; and the Yellow Man, though very\nreluctantly, pointed out the way.  All happened to Owain as it had to\nKynon, save that the shower seemed more violent and the song of the\nbirds even sweeter than before.  And as they sang the Black Knight\nappeared, and rode violently upon Owain; but he was prepared to\nreceive him, and they fought fiercely together.  Their lances broke\nwith the shock of their attack, and, drawing their swords, they\nfought until Owain struck the knight a blow which pierced through\nhelmet, skull, and brain.\n\nThen the Black Knight, knowing he had received a mortal blow, turned\nhis horse, and fled.  But Owain pursued hard after him until they\ncame to a lordly castle.  When they reached the gate the Black Knight\nwas allowed to enter; but Owain was so close behind that, when the\nportcullis fell, it struck his horse behind the saddle, and cut him\nin two, carrying away the rowels of the spurs which were on Owain's\nheels.  So the rowels and part of the horse were outside and Owain\nwas shut up inside with the other part of the horse between the two\ngates, for the inner one was closed.  As the knight stood wondering\nwhat would happen next he saw through an opening in the upper part of\nthe gate a street facing him, with a row of houses on either side;\nand from one of these houses came out a maiden, with yellow, curling\nlocks, dressed in yellow satin, with shoes of parti-coloured leather.\nShe approached the gate, and desired him to open it.  \"Truly, lady,\"\nsaid Owain ruefully, \"I can no more open it for you than you can for\nme.\"\n\n\"That is very sad,\" said the damsel; \"yet it is the part of every\nwoman to do what she can to succour you, for you are a loyal squire\nof dames, so I will do whatever is in my power for you.  Take this\nring, and put it on your finger, with the stone inside your hand, and\nclose your hand upon the stone.  As long as you conceal it, it will\nconceal you.  Presently, when they have consulted together, they will\ncome to fetch you, in order to put you to death, and will be much\nupset when they cannot find you.  But I shall sit on the horse-block\nyonder, and you will see me though I cannot see you.  Come,\ntherefore, and put your hand upon my shoulder, that I may know you\nare near; and whichever way I go, do you follow me.\"\n\nSo Owain vanished from the sight of men, and sorely grieved were his\nfoes when they came to seek him and found only part of his horse.\nBut he found the maiden, and laid his hand upon her shoulder; and she\nled him to a splendid chamber, where even the nails were painted in\nbeautiful colours, and there she gave him abundance of food in silver\ndishes, and left him to rest.  Now, on that night the nobleman who\nowned the castle, whom Owain had so grievously wounded, died; and the\nmaiden of the golden locks presently brought Owain to a window from\nwhence he might see the funeral procession.  And foremost among the\nmourners walked the Countess of that domain.  She was so very\nbeautiful that Owain fell deeply in love with her, and said to the\nmaiden: \"Verily, there goes the woman I love best in the world.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said the maiden, \"she too shall love you not a little, and I\nwill go woo for thee.\"\n\nSo the maiden, whose name was Luned, went to the chamber of her\nmistress the Countess, and found her weeping, because now the Black\nKnight was slain, there was no one to defend her dominions.  For so\nit was that, so long as the fountain was safe, all was well, but if\nthat were not defended, all her lands would soon be lost.\n\nThen Luned said: \"Surely you know that no one can defend the fountain\nexcept he be a knight of Arthur's household.  Let me go to Arthur's\nCourt, and I will bring back with me a warrior who can guard the\nfountain as well as, or even better than, he who kept it formerly.\"\n\n\"That will be a hard task,\" said the Countess.  \"Go, however, and\nmake good that which thou hast promised.\"\n\nBut Luned did not go to Arthur's Court; she went instead to the\nchamber of Owain, and, having warned him to wait until it was due\ntime, hid herself as long as it would have taken to travel to the\nCourt.\n\nThen she brought Owain a coat and mantle of yellow satin, on which\nwere bands of broad gold lace; and for his feet shoes of softest\nleather, fastened by golden clasps in the shape of lions; and thus\nthey proceeded to the chamber of the Countess.\n\nBut when they arrived the Countess looked steadfastly upon Owain, and\nsaid: \"Luned, this knight has not the appearance of a traveller.\"\n\n\"Well, lady, he is none the worse for that,\" said Luned.\n\n\"I am certain,\" said the Countess, \"that this is the man who killed\nmy master, the Black Knight.\"\n\n\"So much the better for you, lady,\" replied Luned, \"for if he had not\nbeen stronger than your master, he could not have killed him.  There\nis no use in crying over spilt milk.\"\n\nThen the Countess looked again on Owain, and when she saw he was a\nvery goodly knight, and courageous withal, she began to return his\naffection for her; and soon afterwards they were married.  So Owain\ndefended the fountain with lance and sword; and whenever a knight\ncame there, he overthrew him, and ransomed him for his full worth,\nand what he then obtained he divided among his barons and his\nknights, so that he became very much beloved.  And so three years\npassed away.\n\n\n\nIII. The further Adventures of Owain\n\nWhen three long years had gone by, King Arthur began to get very sad\nbecause he heard nothing of his good knight Owain.  And when the\nothers saw his sadness they suggested that he and the men of his\nhousehold should go and seek Owain.  So they set off; and Kynon was\ntheir guide.  They spent the night at the castle of the Man in\nYellow, and he and his twenty-four damsels waited upon them with the\nutmost hospitality.  In the morning they set off for the wood, and,\npassing the black man, they came to the fountain.  Then Sir Kai\nbegged that he might throw the water on the slab and receive the\nadventure that first befell.  All happened as before, save that\nseveral of the attendants were killed by the hail-storm; and as they\nstood listening to the song of the birds, a knight clad in black\nsatin, riding on a coal-black horse, spurred up to Sir Kai, and in a\nfew minutes Sir Kai was overthrown.\n\nThen the knight rode off, and the host of Arthur encamped as darkness\ndrew on.\n\nThe next day Sir Kai met the Black Knight again, and this time was\nwounded very sorely.  Then each of the knights in turn fought, and\nall were overthrown save one, and he was called Gwalchmai.  The fight\nbetween him and the Black Knight was very fierce, but at length a\nheavy blow broke the helmet of Gwalchmai, and showed his face.  And,\nbehold, the Black Knight threw down his sword, and embraced him,\nsaying: \"Little did I know that you were my cousin Gwalchmai.\"  Then\ndid Gwalchmai know the voice of Owain, and embraced him, and brought\nhim to Arthur, and everyone was glad to see the long-lost knight\nagain.\n\nSo all the company proceeded to the castle of the Countess of the\nFountain, and there partook of a great banquet, which had been three\nyears preparing; for Owain had always said that Arthur would come to\nseek him.  And when all was over Arthur prepared to depart, but first\nhe sent a message to the Countess, begging her to permit Owain to go\nand visit him for the space of three months.  So Owain departed,\nthough much against the will of his Countess; and when he was once\nmore among his kindred and friends he forgot all about his wife and\nthe People in Yellow, and stayed away three years instead of three\nmonths.  At the end of these three years, as Owain sat one day at\nmeat in the royal city of Caerleon-on-Usk, there rode through the\ndoorway of the hall a damsel on a bay horse covered with foam,\nwearing a bridle and saddle of gold; and the damsel was clad in a\nrobe of yellow satin.  She came up to Owain, and, taking the ring\nfrom off his hand, \"Thus,\" she said, \"shall be treated the deceiver,\nthe traitor, the faithless and the disgraced.\"\n\nThen she turned her horse's head, and rode away.\n\nThen was Owain deeply ashamed and sorrowful; and on the next day he\nleft the Court, and wandered to the distant parts of the country and\nto waste places and barren mountains.  And he stayed there until his\nclothes were worn out and his body wasted away and his hair grown\nlong.  His only companions were the wild beasts with whom he fed, and\nthey grew to love him as their friend; but after a time he became so\nweak that he could no longer abide with them, so he descended from\nthe mountains into the fairest park in all the world, which was said\nto belong to a widowed countess.\n\nOne day the Countess and her maidens were walking by a lake that was\nin the middle of the park, when they saw in the pathway the prostrate\nfigure of a man.  At first they thought he was dead; but they went\nnear, and touched him, and found there was life in him, though he was\nvery much exhausted.  So the Countess returned to the castle, and\nsent one of her maidens with a flask full of precious balsam to the\nsick man, together with a horse and a good suit of clothes, and said:\n\n\"Go with these, and place them near the man we saw just now.  Anoint\nhim with the balsam near his heart, and if there is still life in him\nhe will arise through the strength of the balsam.  Then watch what he\nwill do.\"\n\nThe maiden departed, and forthwith poured the whole of the balsam on\nOwain, and left the horse and the garments close by, and hid herself,\nand watched what would happen.  Presently he began to move his hands,\nthen his arms, and then all at once he rose up, and was ashamed to\nsee how ragged and dirty he looked.  Then he perceived the horse, and\nthe garments; so he washed in the lake, and crept to the horse, and\nwith difficulty clothed himself, and clambered on to the saddle.\nThen came the maiden from her hiding-place, and he was rejoiced to\nsee her, and asked her to whom the park belonged.\n\n\"Truly,\" said she, \"a widowed countess owns park and castle, which\nare all that are left to her of two noble earldoms left to her by her\nlate husband.  All the rest has been taken from her by a neighbouring\nearl because she refused to become his wife.\"\n\n\"That is a pity,\" said Owain.  And the maiden conducted him to the\ncastle, and brought him to a pleasant room, and left him there.  Then\nshe went to the Countess, and gave her back the flask.  \"Ha! damsel,\"\nsaid her mistress, \"where is all the balsam?\"  \"Have I not used it\nall?\" said she.  \"O maiden,\" said the Countess, \"thou hast wasted for\nme seven-score pounds' worth of ointment on an unknown stranger.\nHowever, now that he is here, wait thou upon him until he is quite\nrecovered.\"\n\nSo the maiden tended Owain, and gave him meat and drink and medicine\nuntil he was well again.  And in three months he was as comely a\nknight as ever he had been before.  One day he heard a great tumult\nin the castle, and asked the maiden the cause thereof.  She told him\nthat the earl whom she had mentioned before had come against the\nCountess with a large army to force her to marry him.  \"Has she a\nhorse and arms to spare?\" asked Owain.  \"She has the best in the\nworld,\" said she.\n\n\"Then go and beg the loan of them,\" said Owain, \"that I may go and\nhave a look at this earl.\"  \"I will,\" said the maiden.  So she made\nher request to the Countess; but the lady laughed a bitter laugh, and\nsaid: \"He may as well have them to-day as my enemy to-morrow; but I\nknow not what he would do with them.\"\n\nThen they brought out a beautiful black horse, with a beechen saddle,\nand a suit of armour for man and horse; and Owain armed himself, and\nrode forth, attended by two pages.  When they came in sight of the\nenemy they could not see where the army ended, it was so great; but\nOwain asked where the earl himself was, and when he was pointed out,\nhe sent the pages back to the castle, and rode forward till he met\nthe earl.  And Owain was now so strong that he drew the earl\ncompletely out of the saddle, and turned his horse's head towards the\ncastle, and, although it was no easy task, brought the earl to the\ngate.  When they had entered, he gave the earl as a gift to the\nCountess, and said to her: \"Lo, here is a return to you for your\nwondrous balsam.\"\n\nThen the earl restored to the Countess her two earldoms in ransom for\nhis life, and for his freedom he gave her half his own domains and\nall his jewels and gold and silver.\n\nAfter this Owain departed from the castle, though all honoured him\ngreatly and begged him to stay with them.  But he was still ashamed\nand sorrowful at heart, and preferred rather to ride forth into\ndesert places again.\n\nOne day, as he was journeying through a wood, he heard a great\nuproar, and, riding forward, found a great craggy mound, on the side\nof which was a grey rock.  In the rock was a cleft, and in the cleft\na serpent; and near by stood a black lion, and every time the lion\nmoved to go hence the serpent darted towards him to attack him.\n\nThen Owain unsheathed his sword, and struck the serpent, and cut him\nin two, and went on his way.  But, strange to say, the lion followed\nhim, and played about him like a dog.  All that day they travelled\ntogether; and at night Owain dismounted, and turned his horse loose\nin a woody meadow.  And he kindled a fire, the lion bringing him wood\nenough to last for three nights.  Then the lion disappeared, and\nafter a while returned bearing a fine, large roebuck, which he laid\nbefore Owain; and when it was skinned and roasted, it made an\nexcellent supper for them both.  As he was eating, he heard a deep\nsigh near him, which was repeated three times.\n\n\"Who is there?\" asked Owain.  \"A mortal maiden,\" was the reply.  \"Who\nart thou?\" he asked again.  And the voice replied: \"I am Luned, the\nhandmaiden of the Countess of the Fountain.  In this stone vault am I\nimprisoned on account of the knight who came from Arthur's Court and\nmarried my Countess.  For a short time only he stayed with her, and\nthen went away, and has never returned--and he was the friend I loved\nmost in the world.  And one day two of the pages of the Countess's\nchamber reviled him, and called him ill names, and I told them that\nthey two were not a match for him alone.  Then they imprisoned me in\nthis stone cell, and said I should be put to death unless he came\nhimself to deliver me by a certain day--and that is the day after\nto-morrow.  But I have no one to send to seek him for me.  And his\nname is Owain, the son of Urien.\"\n\nThen Owain said: \"Art thou certain that if the knight knew all this,\nhe would come to your rescue?\"\n\n\"I am most certain of it,\" said she.\n\nSo Owain bade her hope for the best, and meantime bade her tell him\nif there were any place near, where he could get lodging for the\nnight.  She bade him follow the river, so he rode along till he came\nto a very fine castle.  The Earl who ruled over the place received\nhim very hospitably, and good fodder was given to his horse.  But the\nlion went and lay down in the horse's manger, so that none of the men\nof the castle dared to approach him.  Meantime Owain had been brought\nin to supper; and very soon the lion came, and sat between his knees,\nand shared his food.  Then Owain noticed that everyone in the castle\nwas very sorrowful.  The Earl sat on one side of him, and his fair\nyoung daughter on the other; and he never saw anyone look as sad as\nthey.\n\nIn the middle of supper the Earl began to bid Owain welcome, adding:\n\"Heaven knows it is not thy coming which makes us sorrowful, but we\nhave good cause for care.\"\n\n\"How is that?\" asked Owain.\n\n\"I have two sons,\" replied the Earl, \"who went yesterday to hunt upon\nthe mountains.  But on the mountains lives an evil monster who kills\nmen and devours them, and he has seized my sons; and to-morrow he\nwill bring them here, and will devour them before my eyes, unless I\nwill deliver my sweet daughter into his hands.  He has the form of a\nman, but the strength of a giant, and no one can do aught against\nhim.\"\n\n\"Truly this is a hard case,\" said Owain.  \"And what wilt thou do?\"\n\n\"Heaven knows,\" said the Earl.  \"But I can never give up my young\ndaughter to be destroyed by him; yet I cannot bear to lose my two\nbrave sons.\"\n\nSo no more was said, and Owain stayed there that night.\n\nNext morning a great noise was heard as the giant entered the\ncourtyard, dragging behind him the two youths by the hair of their\nheads.  Then Owain put on his armour, and went out to fight the\ngiant, and the lion followed him.  The giant made a great rush upon\nthe knight; and the lion fought on Owain's side, more fiercely than\nhis master.  At length the giant said: \"I could easily settle this\nbusiness with you were it not for the animal that is with you.\"  So\nOwain shut the lion up inside the castle walls, and went back to\nfight the giant as before.  But the lion heard that it was going ill\nwith Owain; and he roared very loud, and climbed up till he reached\nthe top of the castle, and then sprang down from the walls, and\njoined his master.  And very soon he gave the giant such a stroke\nwith his paw that the monster fell down dead.\n\nThen the Earl was full of gratitude, and begged Owain to remain with\nhim; but he would only stay one more night, and on the morrow set out\nfor the meadow where Luned was imprisoned in the mound.  When he\nreached the spot, he found a great fire kindled, and two youths with\ncurling auburn hair were leading the maiden forth to cast her in the\nfire.\n\n[Illustration: \"TWO YOUTHS WERE LEADING THE MAIDEN FORTH\"]\n\n\"Why are you treating her thus?\" asked Owain.\n\nThey told him of the compact that was between them concerning the\nmaiden.  \"Owain has failed her,\" said they, \"therefore she must be\nburnt according to our agreement.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Owain, \"I know him for a good knight, and if he had\nknown of the maiden's peril he would have come to her rescue; but if\nyou will accept me in his stead I will do battle for her.\"\n\nThis was agreed; and the fight began.  But the two were together\nstronger than Owain, and he was hard beset.  Then the lion came to\nhis help, and they two were stronger than the young men.  So they\nsaid to him: \"Chieftain, we did not agree to fight with thy lion, but\nonly with thee.\"  Then Owain shut the lion up in the stone vault\nwhere the maiden had been imprisoned, and blocked up the entrance\nwith stones, and returned to the fight.  But he was weak from loss of\nblood, and the young men pressed hard upon him; and the lion roared\nlike thunder when he heard that his master was in trouble, and he\nburst through the wall, and rushed upon the young men, and slew them\nboth.\n\nSo Luned was saved, and glad was she when she found it was Owain\nindeed who had come to her rescue.  Together they sought the\ndominions of the Countess of the Fountain; and she and Owain and the\nlion and Luned lived all happily together for the rest of their lives.\n\n\n_From the \"Mabinogion.\"_\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of King Lud\n\nKing Lud was King of Britain, and a very mighty warrior.  He built\nfor himself a fine castle, and lived in it most part of the year.  It\nwas called Caer Lud, and afterwards Caer London, but after the\nstranger race came to Britain it was just called London.  Lud had a\nbrother, Llevelys, whom he loved very dearly; and he married a\nprincess of France, and became king of that land, and ruled it well\nand happily.  Now, after some years three dismal plagues fell upon\nthe island of Britain, such as no other land had ever known.  The\nfirst was the plague of the Coranians.  These Coranians were a\ncertain people who knew every word that was said upon the island,\nhowever low it might be spoken, if only the wind met it.  And because\nof this they could not be injured, for they knew all their enemies'\nplans beforehand.\n\nThe second plague was a terrible shriek that came on every May-eve\nover each hearth in the island of Britain.  And the shriek pierced\nthrough the hearts of all, so that men lost their valour and\nstrength, and women and children and young men and maidens their\nsenses, and all the animals and trees and earth and waters were left\nbarren.\n\nThe third plague was that whatever store of food and provisions might\nbe laid up in the King's court, even if so much as a whole year's\nsupply of meat and drink, none of it could ever be found except what\nwas consumed in the first night.\n\nThen King Lud was very sad at heart, because he knew not how to free\nhis land from the dismal plagues.  He called together all the nobles\nof his kingdom, and asked counsel as to what he should do in the\nmidst of these afflictions.  And they all advised him to go to France\nand seek the advice of Llevelys his brother, king of that land.  So\nthey made ready a fleet in secrecy and silence, lest the Coranian\nrace should learn the cause of their journey; and Lud, with some of\nhis chosen followers, set his face towards France.  When Llevelys saw\nhis brother's ship approaching, he went out to meet him, and embraced\nhim with much joy.  Then King Lud told him the purpose of his errand;\nand King Llevelys thought a while, and, being very wise, soon\ndiscovered the cause of those dismal plagues.  But they dared not\ntalk freely about them to each other, lest the wind should catch\ntheir words, and the Coranians have knowledge of their discourse.  So\nLlevelys caused a long horn to be made of brass, and through this\nhorn they discoursed.  But whatever words they spoke into the horn\none to the other neither of them could hear anything but harsh and\nunfriendly words.\n\nThen Llevelys saw that there was a demon in the horn thwarting all\ntheir purposes, and caused wine to be put in to wash it out; and\nthrough the virtue of the wine the demon was driven away.\n\nWhen this was done, Llevelys told his brother through the horn that\nhe would give him some insects, which he must take and bruise in\nwater.  And when he returned to his kingdom he must call together all\nthe people, both of his own race and the Coranians, as though with\nthe idea of making peace between them.  And when they were all\ntogether he must take the charmed water made with the bruised\ninsects, and cast it over all alike.  And the water would poison the\nrace of the Coranians, but it would not harm those of his own people.\n\n\"The second plague,\" he said--\"that of the weird shriek--is caused by\na dragon.  Another dragon of a foreign race is fighting with it, and\nstriving to overcome it, and for this reason does your dragon make a\nfearful outcry once every year.  This must you do to rid yourself of\nthis plague: cause the island to be measured in its length and\nbreadth, and in the place where you find the exact central point,\ncause a pit to be dug; and in the pit you must place a cauldron full\nof the best mead that can be made, with a covering of satin over the\nface of the cauldron.  Then remain there watching, and presently you\nwill see the dragons fighting a terrific fight.  Presently they will\ntake the form of dragons of the air; and lastly, when they are worn\nout with the fury of their fighting, they will fall upon the covering\nof the cauldron in the form of two pigs, and they will sink in, and\nthe covering with them, till they reach the bottom of the cauldron;\nand they will drink up all the mead, and after that they will go to\nsleep.  Then you must immediately fold the covering around them, and\nshut them up in the strongest vessel in your dominions, and hide them\ndeep in the earth.  And so long as they shall bide in that strong\nvessel no plague shall come from elsewhere upon the island of Britain.\n\n\"The third plague,\" continued Llevelys, \"is caused by a mighty\nmagician, who takes your meat and drink and stores of provisions.\nThrough his illusions and charms he causes everyone to sleep.\nTherefore must you watch your food yourself.  And, lest he should\novercome you with sleep, have a cauldron of ice-cold water by your\nside, and if you begin to get drowsy, plunge into the cauldron.\"\n\nThen Lud thanked his brother for his good counsel, and returned to\nhis own land.  And first he summoned a meeting of all the people,\nboth of his own race and that of the Coranians; and he bruised the\ninsects in water, and cast it over the heads of all of them.\nImmediately it destroyed all the race of the Coranians, but his own\npeople were hurt not at all.\n\nAnd this was the end of the first dismal plague.\n\nThen he caused the land to be measured in its length and its breadth;\nand he found the central point in Oxford, and in that place he caused\nthe pit to be dug and the cauldron of mead to be placed, with a\ncovering of satin over the face of it.  There he presently beheld the\ndragons fighting; and when they were weary, they fell into the mead\nunder the shape of pigs, and when they had drunk up all the mead,\nthey slept.  And Lud folded the covering round them, and hid them in\nthe strongest place he had on Snowdon.  And so the fierce shriek\nceased to be heard in his dominions; and this was the end of the\nsecond dismal plague.\n\nWhen this was all ended, King Lud caused a very great banquet to be\nprepared in the Court.  And when it was ready, he placed a cauldron\nof ice-cold water by his side, and sat down to watch over the\nbanquet.  And about the third watch of the night he heard sweet music\nand gentle songs, which lulled him to sleep.  But when he found\nhimself getting very drowsy, he went often into the ice-cold water.\nAt length a man of great size, clad in strong, heavy armour, came in,\nbearing a hamper; and into this hamper he began to put all the food\nand provisions of meat and drink, and proceeded to go forth with it.\nAnd King Lud was so stupefied with astonishment that one hamper could\npossibly hold so much, that he had almost let him go.  At last,\nhowever, he recovered his senses, and rushed after him, and cried:\n\"Stay, stay.  Though thou hast done me many insults and stolen much\nspoil ere now, yet shalt thou do so no more, unless thy skill in arms\nbe better than mine.\"  The magician instantly put down the hamper,\nand rushed upon him; and they fought so desperately that fire flew\nfrom their arms.  At length the victory was to Lud, and he threw the\nplague to the earth.  Then the magician besought him for his life,\nand promised to serve him as his vassal, and put all his power in the\nhands of the King, if he would release him; and to this King Lud\nagreed.\n\nAnd this was the end of the third dismal plague.  From that time\nforth King Lud reigned in peace and happiness in the island of\nBritain.\n\n\n_From the \"Mabinogion.\"_\n\n\n\n\nThe Tale of Taliesin\n\nTegid Voel and Caridwen his wife lived on an island in the midst of\nLake Tegid.  (Nowadays the lake is called Bala, and there is no\nisland to be seen.)  They had an elder son, a fair and comely youth,\nand a very beautiful daughter; but their youngest son was uglier than\nanyone in the whole world.  This troubled his mother Caridwen at\nfirst; but she said to herself: \"If he cannot be handsome, he shall,\nat anyrate, be very learned.\"  Now, Caridwen was a witch, so she set\nto work to boil a Cauldron of Knowledge, of which the boiling must\nnot cease for a year and a day.  At the end of that time it would\nyield three drops of precious liquid, which would make whoever drank\nit wise for the rest of his life.  She set Gwion Bach, who was\npassing by, to stir the cauldron, and a blind man named Morda to keep\nup the fire underneath; but, fearing that Gwion Bach had seen what\nshe put into the cauldron, and would tell her secrets to others, she\nmade up her mind to kill him directly he had done his work for her.\n\nNow, one day, as the end of the year drew nigh, while Caridwen was in\nthe fields gathering herbs, it chanced that the three magic drops\nflew out of the cauldron, and fell on the finger of Gwion Bach.  They\nscalded his hand so that he promptly put it to his mouth, and sucked\nhis fingers; and immediately he became very wise, and knew all that\nCaridwen meant to do to him, and his need of guarding against her\nwily plots!  He fled from the house, therefore, and ran towards his\nown land; and the cauldron, left unstirred, burst in two, and the\npoisonous liquid ran out of the door, and into a stream where the\nhorses of Gwyddno were drinking; and when they had drunk of the\npoisoned water they all died.\n\nWhen Caridwen returned, and saw the year's work was lost, she took up\na billet of wood, and began to beat the blind man Morda.  But he\nanswered: \"You do wrong to beat me; the loss was not because of me.\"\n\n\"You speak truly,\" said Caridwen.  \"It was Gwion Bach who robbed me.\"\nAnd she set to running after him as fast as she could.  He soon\nlooked back, and saw her, and changed himself into a hare; for the\nmagic liquid had given him many different kinds of skill.  But as he\nfled, she changed herself into a greyhound, and had nearly caught him\nup when he ran towards a river and changed himself into a fish.  Then\nshe became an otter, and chased him till in his weariness he took the\nform of a bird.  But she at once changed herself into a hawk, and\ngave him no rest in the sky.\n\nJust as he was in fear of death, he saw a heap of grains of wheat on\nthe floor of a barn; so he dropped among them, and became one of the\ngrains.  Then Caridwen changed herself into a high-crested black hen,\nand scratched among the grains till she found him.  She was just\nabout to swallow him, when, with his last remaining effort of skill,\nhe became a very beautiful little child, and when she looked at him\nshe had not the heart to kill him on the spot.  So she took her own\nform again, and, having put the child into a leathern bag, she cast\nhim into the sea just below the weir of Gwyddno, which is not far\nfrom Aberystwith, on the 29th of April.  Then Caridwen returned home\nagain, and thought no more of the matter.\n\nNow, it had been the custom on every May-day eve to go fishing in\nthat weir, and every year fish were taken to the value of a hundred\npounds.  Its owner, Gwyddno, had an only son named Elphin, the most\nunlucky of youths, who was always needing and never getting.  This\nyear his father, pitying his ill fortune, granted to him all the weir\nshould contain on May-day, in order to give him something wherewith\nto begin the world.  So the nets were set to catch the fish below the\nweir, and next day Elphin hurried to see how many they had caught.\nBut the nets were quite empty, and nothing was to be found but a\nleathern bag which had caught in one of the poles of the weir.  Then\nsaid one of his companions: \"Men were unfortunate before, but never\nso much as now, when your luck has turned away the fish from a weir\nthat has been worth a hundred pounds every May-eve till now, when\nthere is nothing but a skin in it.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" said Elphin, \"the bag may have something in it which is\nworth a hundred pounds.\"  So his friend hooked up the bag, and opened\nit, and there peeped out the bright face of a little lad.  \"See, what\na bright face within the bag!\" cried his companion.  And Elphin said:\n\"Let him be called Taliesin, then\" (which means \"bright or shining\nface\"), and lifted the child gently on to his horse, and made it walk\nsoftly, and went homeward with a very heavy heart.\n\n[Illustration: THE FINDING OF TALIESIN]\n\nBut as he rode along, the boy behind him sang to him a song of\nconsolation so sweetly that Elphin was much amazed, and asked how he\nhad learnt so beautiful a song.  The child replied that, though he\nwas very little, he was notwithstanding very wise.\n\nThen Elphin asked if he were a mortal child or a spirit; upon which\nthe boy sang another song, telling what he had been, and how he had\nfled from Caridwen, and how he came to be entangled in the weir.\n\nWhen Elphin reached the house of his father, the latter asked him if\nhis haul were good.\n\n\"Father,\" he answered, \"I have caught a poet-minstrel.\"\n\n\"Alas! what good will that do thee?\" said Gwyddno.\n\nAnd Taliesin answered for himself: \"He will do him more good than the\nweir ever did for thee.\"\n\nThen Gwyddno looked at him, and said: \"Art thou able to speak when\nthou art so little?\"  And the child replied: \"I am better able to\nspeak than thou to question.\"  \"What canst thou say?\" asked Gwyddno.\nUpon which Taliesin sang a song of such wondrous beauty, that\neveryone hastened to the spot to hear the marvellous child.\n\nSoon afterwards Elphin, with his usual ill luck, managed to offend\nthe powerful King Maelgwn, who cast him into a dungeon barred by\nthirteen locked doors.  But when father Gwyddno was lamenting his\nson's ill fate, the child Taliesin bade him be of good cheer, since\nhe was going to rescue him.  Setting off at daybreak he reached the\nKing's palace at the time of the evening meal, and entered the hall\njust as the bards were beginning to sing the praises of the King, as\nwas their custom every evening.  Then Taliesin cast a spell upon\nthese bards, so that instead of singing they could only pout out\ntheir lips and make mouths at the King.  He forced them also, by his\nmagic power, to tap their fingers on their mouths, as they tried in\nvain to sing, making a curious sound like \"Bler-m!  Bler-m!\"\n\nThe King, naturally, thought they were treating him with great\ndisrespect, and ordered one of his squires to give a blow to the\nchief bard; and the squire took a broom, and struck him on the head,\nso that he fell back on his seat.  This rough treatment seemed to\nbring him to his senses, and he then explained that they could not\nhelp themselves, but had been put under a spell by a spirit, who was\nsitting in a corner of the hall under the form of a child.  So the\nKing ordered the squire to fetch the child; and Taliesin, nothing\nloth, was brought up to the head of the table.  Being asked who he\nwas and whence he came, he at once proceeded to sing another\nwonderful song, in which he informed them that he was the chief bard\nof Elphin, that his native country was the land of Cherubim, but that\nat present he was dwelling upon this earth, and might even stay here\nuntil the Judgment Day.\n\nThe King and his nobles marvelled greatly, for they had never heard\nthe like from a boy so young as he.  But as he was the bard of\nElphin, who had offended His Majesty, the King determined that his\nown bards should get the better of him in song.  So he ordered the\nchief bard to stand forth, and then all the four and twenty of them,\nto strive with Taliesin.  But when they came forward to do his\nbidding they could do no other than play \"Bler-m!  Bler-m!\" on their\nlips.\n\nThen the King, angry and disappointed, asked the boy Taliesin his\nerrand.\n\nAnd the child replied in song: \"I am come to deliver Elphin, who is\nimprisoned in this castle, behind thirteen locks.\"\n\n\"I will never let him go,\" said the King.\n\nThen Taliesin foretold that there should come up from the sea-marshes\na wonderful golden worm, which would take revenge upon the King for\nhis cruelty; but, finding his threat had no effect, he turned, and\nleft the hall.  Outside the castle he sang a charm to the wind,\nbidding it blow open the prison of Elphin; and while he thus sang,\nnear the door, there suddenly uprose such a storm of wind that the\nKing and his nobles crouched in terror, expecting that the castle\nwould fall upon their heads.  Directly he realised that this was the\nwork of the mysterious child-bard he sent for Elphin from the prison,\nand implored Taliesin to stay the wind-storm, which he accordingly\ndid.  So Elphin was brought into the hall, loaded with chains; at\nsight of which Taliesin sang another charm song, and the chains\nimmediately fell off his hands and feet.  By this time the King was\nso full of admiration for the skill and wisdom of the boy that he\nbegged him to take the spell off his own bards, and to test them with\nquestions.\n\nSo Taliesin set them free from his charm, and then began to rain\nquestions upon them.\n\n\"Why is a stone hard?\"\n\n\"Why is a thorn sharp-pointed?\"\n\n\"What is as salt as brine?\"\n\n\"Who rides the gale?\"\n\n\"Why is a wheel round?\"\n\n\"Why is the speech of the tongue different from any other gift?\"\n\nThese were some of the questions he put, and ended with: \"If you and\nyour bards are able, let them give an answer to me, Taliesin.\"\n\nBut none of them could answer a single word.\n\nThen the King dismissed them all with scorn; but still he would not\nlet Elphin go free away.\n\nThen Taliesin bade Elphin wager the King that he had a horse both\nbetter and swifter than the King's horses.  The King accepted the\nchallenge, and fixed day and time and place for the wager to be\ntried, and promised him his freedom if he should win the race.  The\nKing went thither with all his people and four and twenty of the\nswiftest horses he possessed.  The course was marked out and the\nhorses placed for running.  Then came Taliesin with four and twenty\ntwigs of holly, which he had burnt black, and he bade the youth who\nwas to ride his master's horse to place them in his belt.  Then he\nordered him to let all the King's horses get before him, and, as he\nshould overtake one horse after another, to strike the horse with a\nholly twig over the crupper, and then let that twig fall, and then to\ntake another twig, and do the same to every one of the horses as he\nshould overtake them.\n\nMoreover, he bade the horseman to watch carefully where his own horse\nshould stumble, and to throw down his cap on the spot.  All this was\ndone, and, behold! each horse that was struck with the holly twig\nbegan to lag behind, and the horse of Elphin easily won the race.\nWhen all was over, Taliesin brought his master to the spot where his\nhorse had stumbled, and ordered workmen to dig a hole there; and when\nthey had dug deep enough they found a cauldron full of gold.  Then\nsaid Taliesin: \"Elphin, take thou this as a reward for having taken\nme out of the weir and reared me from that time until now.\"\n\nSo Elphin went home a rich man to his father, and the work of\nTaliesin was accomplished.\n\n\n_From the Welsh Romance of Taliesin.  Thirteenth century._\n\n\n\n\nOlger the Dane\n\n\nI. How Olger became Champion of France\n\nLong ago, in the days when Denmark and England were almost like one\ncountry, the palace of the King of the Danes was dark and gloomy, and\nthe sound of weeping and wailing rose within its walls; for the fair\nyoung queen, whom all the people loved, had died in giving birth to a\nson.  When she was dead, they took the babe from her arms, and,\nhaving called him Olger, they carried him away to the royal nursery,\nand laid him on a quilted bed of down, and left him there alone.  But\nere long a sound of rustling was heard in the silent room, and there\nassembled round the bed six beautiful fairies, who smiled and kissed\ntheir hands to him; and the babe smiled back in return.\n\nThen the Fairy Glorian took the child in her arms, and kissed him,\nand said: \"My gift to you is that you shall be the strongest and\nbravest knight of all your time.\"\n\n\"And mine,\" said the Fairy Palestine, \"is that you shall always have\nbattles to fight.\"\n\n\"No man shall ever conquer you,\" promised the Fairy Pharamond.\n\n\"You shall ever be sweet and gentle,\" said Meliora.\n\nAnd Pristina added: \"You shall be dear to all women, and happy in\nyour love.\"\n\nThen Morgan le Fay, who was queen of all the fairies, took the boy in\nher arms, and pressed his head to her bosom, saying: \"Sweet little\none, there are few gifts for me to give you; but this shall be mine:\nYou shall never die; and after you have lived a life of glory here\nyou shall be mine, and shall dwell with me for ever in Avalon, the\nland of Faery.\"  Then she kissed him many times, and laid him back\nupon the bed; and with soft rustling of wings the fays departed.\n\nTen years passed away, and Olger had grown a brave, strong boy, and\ncomely to look upon.\n\nAt that time it befell that the Emperor Charles the Great sent a\nmessage to Godfrey, King of Denmark, and father of young Olger, to\nbid him come and do homage for his lands; to which King Godfrey,\nbeing a stout and stalwart man, made bold answer: \"Tell Charles I\nhold my lands of God and of my good sword; and if he doubt it, let\nhim come and see.  Homage to him I will not do.\"  So Charles the\nGreat came up against him with a mighty army, and after long fighting\nKing Godfrey was defeated, and forced to promise to appear before the\nEmperor every Easter to do allegiance.  And, fearing lest he would\nnot keep his word, the Emperor demanded that young Olger should be\ngiven to him as a hostage.  To this King Godfrey agreed; and the boy\nwas carried off to the Emperor's Court, and there instructed in all\nthe arts and learning of the time, and so grew up an accomplished and\nhandsome youth.\n\nFor three years King Godfrey appeared each Easter to do allegiance;\nbut in the meantime he had married again.  And when another son was\nborn to him, his new wife persuaded him to cease to humble himself\nbefore the Emperor, for she hoped that by this means Olger would be\nput to death, and her own son would inherit the kingdom.  So on the\nfourth Easter the King of Denmark appeared not at the Court; and so\nthey took young Olger, and threw him into the prison of the Castle of\nSt Omer, until messengers should find out why King Godfrey had broken\nhis pledged word.\n\nNow, the keeper of the castle was very good to the young man, who\nalso found much favour in the eyes of his wife, and those of\nBellisande, his daughter, who loved him from the first moment he\nappeared.\n\nInstead of a gloomy dungeon Olger was placed in a rich apartment,\nhung with beautiful tapestry, and Bellisande herself was proud to\nwait upon him.\n\nMeantime the messengers of Charles had met with a shameful reception\nat the hands of Godfrey, King of Denmark.  Their ears and noses were\nslit, their heads shaven, and they were driven from the kingdom.\nFull of shame and wrath they appeared at the Court of their master,\nand cried loudly for revenge against Godfrey, and against his son\nOlger, since he stood as hostage for him.  The Emperor at once gave\norders that the lad should be put to death; but the keeper of the\ncastle implored the Emperor not to insist upon instant execution, but\nat least to grant that the young knight should be brought before the\nCourt and told why he must suffer death.  To this the Emperor agreed;\nand as he sat at a great feast among his nobles there entered Olger,\nand kneeled meekly at his feet.  When Charles saw how fair a youth he\nwas, and how gently he humbled himself for his father's pride, he was\nmoved with pity and compassion.  Many of the nobles, too, were in\nfavour of the lad, and would have begged the Emperor to save his\nlife; but the rage of the messengers was so great that they would\nhave torn him to pieces, had not Duke Naymes of Bayiere kept them\nback.\n\nThen Olger looked up at the Emperor, and said:\n\n\"Sire, you know that I am innocent in this matter, and that I have\nalways been obedient to you.  Let me not suffer for my father's\nfault, but, since I am his true heir, let me pay the homage and\nallegiance which he refuses, and grant that I may atone for him by a\nlife of devotion and service in your cause.  And for your messengers,\nI will from this moment do all in my power to recompense them for the\ncruel indignities they have suffered at my father's hands, if you\nwill but spare my life and use it in your service.\"\n\nThen all the barons began to beg the King to grant the boy's request;\nand in the midst of the discussion a mounted knight rode into the\nhall, crying:\n\n\"Tidings, my lord King!  Ill tidings for us all!  The Soudan and the\nGrand Turk and Dannemont his son, with the help of King Caraheu, have\ntaken Rome by storm, and Pope, cardinals, and all have fled.  The\nchurches are destroyed; the Christians put to the sword.  Wherefore,\nas a Christian king and pillar of the Faith, I summon you to march to\nthe aid of Holy Church.\"\n\nThen, as all was bustle and confusion in preparing a great army to\ntake the field immediately, Duke Naymes prevailed upon Charles to let\nhim take young Olger to the battle as his squire, promising to give\nall his lands, and himself as prisoner, to the Emperor, if the boy\nshould flee away.  So Charles agreed, and hastened to prepare for the\nfight, swearing that he would not return to his own land till Rome\nshould be restored to the Christians.  The first thing Olger did when\nhe recovered his freedom, was to hasten back to the castle and wed\nthe fair Bellisande; and when she wept at losing her young husband so\nsoon, he comforted her, and said: \"Weep not, for God has given me\nlife and you have given me love--and these two gifts will strengthen\nme to do great feats of arms.\"\n\nSo Olger rode off with the host, following the standard of Duke\nNaymes and his two brothers, Geoffrey and Gautier.  And they marched\ntill they came to Rome, and took their station on a hill before the\ncity with an army of two hundred thousand men.\n\nThen the host of paynims came forth from the city to the battle; and\nOlger, hearing the din of war, the neighing of horses, and the\nshouting of men, longed to dash into the thick of the fight; but his\nmaster forbade him, and charged him to remain among the tents.\n\nFrom this position Olger watched with wild anxiety the standard of\nKing Charles as it waved in the forefront of the battle.  He saw the\narmies come together and heard a crash that rent the sky.  Then the\nstandard waved in triumph; but suddenly it fell--then rose again; and\nanon he saw with horror that the band of the Emperor's chosen knights\nhad been repulsed, and that Sir Alory, the standard-bearer, had\nturned his horse, and was fleeing for his very life.  In a moment\nOlger had rushed down the slope, and, flinging himself on the bridle\nof Sir Alory's horse, he snatched the standard from his hand, crying:\n\"Coward, go home with all the speed you may, and live among women for\nthe rest of your life, but leave the noble banner, Refuge of France,\nwith me.\"\n\nThe terrified Alory was easily disarmed; and Olger, ordering a squire\nto dress him in the standard-bearer's armour, sprang on a horse and,\nsword in one hand and banner in the other, rushed into the thick of\nthe fight.\n\nHe soon found that Duke Naymes and many other nobles had been held\nprisoners behind the array of the paynims, and, with the fierceness\nof a young lion, he cut his way through to them, freed their bonds\nwith his sword, and forced a way through the enemy both for himself\nand for them.  And wherever he appeared among the heathen host, he\nslew so many that he was protected, as it were, by a rampart of the\ndead.  Presently he heard the King cry loudly for help, and, spurring\nin the direction of the sound, found that Dannemont had killed his\nhorse under him, and that he was down, and hard pressed on every\nside.  Then Olger, waving the standard on high, rushed upon the\npaynim, and soon cleared a free space about the King, and mounted him\non a fresh horse.  And in the same way on three separate occasions he\nsaved the life of Charles.  At length, with Olger at their head and\nthe battle-cry of \"Montjoy\" on their lips, the King and his host\ndrove the paynims back to the city gates.\n\nWhen the fight was over, the Emperor Charles ordered the\nstandard-bearer to be brought before him; and when Olger appeared,\nwith his visor closed, he thought it had been Alory, and said to him:\n\"Alory, though with grief I saw you flee at the onset, you have most\nnobly redeemed your honour.  Three times have you saved my life, and\nI know not how to reward you fitly.  I will make you ruler of any\nprovince you may choose in my kingdom, and you shall be my\nlieutenant, and fight in my quarrel in all disputes touching the\ncrown of France.\"\n\nBut a squire who stood by spoke up, and said: \"Sire, this is not that\nAlory of whom you speak.  He bowed the colours, and fled for his\nlife, at the first onset; but this young knight seized the standard\nfrom his hands, while I helped to dress him in Alory's armour; but\nwho he is I know not.\"\n\nThen Olger took off his helmet, and knelt down, and said: \"Have pity,\nsire, on Godfrey, King of Denmark, and let his son atone for his\noffence and be your faithful vassal in his stead.\"\n\nAnd the Emperor embraced him, and said: \"You have changed all former\nhate into love for you.  I give you your request.  Rise, Sir Olger,\nChampion for France and Charles, and God be with you.\"\n\nThus Olger became a knight, and all the nobles of France came to\nsalute him and thank him for their deliverance.  On the next day,\nproud in his new-made knighthood, Olger once more bore the standard\nagainst the foe, and the paynims fell like corn before the scythe\nwherever he appeared.  And when the Franks began to waver, then there\nrode into their midst a knight on a great horse, who did such mighty\ndeeds on their behalf that they knew him for their Champion, and\ncrying: \"Olger!  Olger the Dane!\" they made many a mighty charge upon\nthe foe.\n\nWhen Sadonne, the paynim general, heard that the tide of battle was\ngoing against his army, he rode forth to meet his followers with the\nnews that Caraheu, Emperor of India, with thirty kings, was coming to\ntheir aid.  But soon he met the whole array fleeing, panic-stricken,\ntowards him in full flight, and crying, \"Save yourselves, for Michael\nthe Archangel fights against us!\"  Then, before Sadonne had time to\nflee, his path was crossed by the dread knight on the great horse,\nand at once he threw down his arms, and begged for life.\n\n\"What is your name?\" said Sir Olger.\n\n\"I am Sadonne,\" answered he, \"the general of Caraheu, Emperor of\nIndia.\"\n\n\"On one condition only will I grant you your life,\" said Sir Olger:\n\"You must bear to Caraheu my challenge to fight with me in single\ncombat, so that by this the course of the war may be determined.\"\n\nSo Sadonne departed, and next day Caraheu arrived at the pavilion of\nCharles the Emperor with a gorgeous retinue, and with him he brought\nthe beautiful Gloriande, the fairest lady in all the Eastern world.\nHer hair was like spun gold, and fell to her feet like a cloak.  It\nwas bound about her temples by a jewelled circlet of the rarest gems,\nand her dress, of whitest damask sewn with pearls, had taken full\nnine years to weave.\n\nThen Caraheu the Emperor said: \"I am in search of Olger the Dane, who\nhas demanded single combat with me.  His challenge I accept, and fair\nGloriande, my promised bride, shall be the victor's prize.\"\n\nBut Charlot, son of the Emperor Charles, looked with envy on Olger,\nand said: \"'Tis meet that you, great Caraheu, should fight, not with\nmy father's bondsman, but with me.\"\n\n\"Not I,\" replied the Emperor.  \"I fight not with braggarts, but with\nmen.  Sir Olger rules the hearts of men, which is nobler far than\nruling over lands.\"\n\n\"Nay, Emperor,\" said Olger modestly; \"Charlot here is the Emperor's\nson, and worthy to fight with the highest.\"\n\n\"Let him fight with Sadonne, my general,\" said Caraheu.  \"I will\njoust only with you.\"\n\nSo a double combat was arranged, and Gloriande sat in a place from\nwhich she could strengthen the combatants with the glances of her\nbright eyes.  For half a day they fought without either getting the\nupper hand, until Sadonne killed Charlot's horse, and courteously\nleapt from his own in order to fight upon equal terms.  But the\nbase-minded Charlot only pretended to fight until he reached the\nplace where Sadonne's steed was standing, and, leaping on it, he rode\naway, like a coward and recreant knight.\n\nMeantime the good sword of Caraheu had cut through Sir Olger's shield\nand armour, and would have done worse harm had not the knight with\nhis great strength dragged Caraheu from his horse, and disarmed him.\nBut Dannemont, the paynim, had hidden three hundred men among the\nbushes of that place to see how the combat went.  And when he saw\nCaraheu at Olger's mercy, he rushed forth at the head of his men, and\nbegan to attack the knight.  In vain did Caraheu rail at them for\ntheir treachery, and fight with all his strength on Olger's side,\ncrying: \"Shame on ye, traitors!  Better death than this!\"  Numbers\noverpowered them, and Olger's life was only saved at the request of\nthe fair Gloriande.  He was loaded with chains, and thrown into a\ndungeon, in spite of all that Caraheu could say or do on his behalf.\nAt length, angry and disgusted at this foul blot on his honour, the\nlatter left the paynim army, and went over with all his men to the\nside of the Emperor Charles, determined to go on fighting against the\npaynim until Olger was delivered.  But Gloriande, who, according to\nthe fairy gift, had loved Olger from the first moment she saw him,\nwent in secret to his prison, loosed his chains, and let him escape\nto the camp of Charles.  Then Charles and Olger and Caraheu joined\ntogether against the paynim host, and ere long Rome was freed from\nher enemies.  Then Olger rescued Gloriande, and gave her to Caraheu\nto be his wife.  In Rome were they baptised and married, and returned\nto India a Christian man and woman.  But ere he departed, he gave to\nOlger his famous sword, Courtain, saying: \"My life and my bride both\nhave you won, and both you have given back to me; take, therefore,\nthis sword as a pledge that I owe all to you.\"\n\n\n\nII. The Vengeance of Olger\n\nWhen Olger returned to France he found that his wife was dead.  This\ngrieved him very sorely, but he was comforted somewhat by the sight\nof the little son who had been born to him meantime.  And he called\nhis name Baldwin.\n\nNow, at this time the paynims had come down upon Denmark, and had\nharried all the land.  And they shut up King Godfrey in his own\ncastle, and besieged it so that he nearly died of famine.  Then the\nQueen said: \"Surely this trouble is come upon us for Olger's sake,\nwhom we left to die.\"  And they began to repent of their wickedness,\nuntil at length, becoming very low and miserable, they sent a message\nto King Charles, begging him to forgive them, and to send them help.\nBut the Emperor replied: \"No!  Since Godfrey holds his lands of God\nand of his good sword, let him hold them.  I will not lift a hand to\nhelp him.\"  Then he sent for Olger, and said: \"You would not wish to\nhelp a traitor--one, too, who left you to die for his crimes?\"  But\nOlger knelt before the King, and said: \"Sire, as vassal I kneel here\nbefore my King; but Godfrey is my father, and my duty is to go to his\naid.  Surely the King will not forbid a son his duty!\"\n\nThen Charles was moved, and said: \"Go; but go alone, save with your\nbody-servants.  No man of mine shall fight in the cause of a rebel\nand traitor.\"\n\nThen Olger hurried to his father's castle with thirty of his men; but\nere he could reach it, King Godfrey had been slain by his foes, and\nthey were even then fighting over his body when Olger rode up.\n\nIt was not long before Olger, with his good sword Courtain, had\nscattered these paynims far and wide, and soon after they left the\ncountry in despair of conquering such a hero.  Then Olger was made\nKing of Denmark, and ruled there for five years; and when he had\nsettled the land and made good laws, he returned to the Emperor\nCharles, and, kneeling before him, said: \"The son of Godfrey, of his\nown free will, thus pays homage to King Charles for all the land of\nDenmark.\"\n\nThe King embraced him warmly at these words, and begged him to remain\nas long as possible at the Frankish Court.  Now, one day the little\nBaldwin, Olger's son, a fair-headed child whom all good men looked\nupon with favour, was playing chess with Charlot, son of the Emperor;\nand it came to pass that, having quickly given \"fool's mate\" to the\nprince, the boy began to laugh at him for his bad play.\n\nThen Charlot, who had always hated Olger, and was jealous of young\nBaldwin, took up the heavy chessboard, and beat the child on the\nhead, so that he fell lifeless to the ground.\n\nWhen Olger returned from the hunt and found his little son lying\ndead, he was beside himself with grief.  He covered the child with\ntears and kisses, and then, making his way to the Emperor's presence,\nhe laid the boy before his throne, saying:\n\n\"Sire, look upon your son's foul deed.\"\n\nThe Emperor was sorely grieved; but he tried to comfort Olger, saying\nhe would give half his kingdom if it would bring the child to life\nagain, but that he knew well that nothing could make up for such a\nloss.\n\nThen Olger said very sternly: \"There is no compensation, but there is\npunishment to be given.  Grant me now to fight with your son, and so\navenge my poor child's death.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Emperor; \"for how, then, could he have a chance of\nlife?\"\n\n\"What matters that?\" cried Olger, with bitter look.  \"What is your\nson more than mine?  I demand that he be given up to me.\"\n\n\"I cannot do it,\" said the Emperor.\n\n\"Then,\" cried Olger in great wrath, \"till you learn justice, sire, we\npart company.\"  And forthwith he left the Court, and took service\nwith a Lombard king who was fighting against King Charles.\n\nFor the next few years Olger the Dane won great renown by his warfare\nagainst the Franks, for wherever he went he was always the victor,\nand his enemies began to look upon his good sword Courtain, and\nBroiefort, his great black steed, with awe and terror.  Many of the\nFranks said openly, that to let Olger depart and to make him their\nfoe, had been no wise deed, for he came upon them like a blight upon\nthe summer corn.  At length they made a plot against him, and\ndetermined to get the better of him by foul treachery.  So they\nwatched him privily, and found him one day, tired out with fighting,\nlying fast asleep by a fountain, with his arms scattered far and\nwide, and his good steed Broiefort grazing peacefully by his side.\nThen one seized his horse, and another his weapons, and they bound\nhim fast while he still lay sound asleep.\n\nWhen Sir Olger was brought to the Court as a prisoner, the Emperor\nwished to slay him, because he feared the vengeance of Olger on his\nson, and in return for the harm he had done to the Frankish cause.\nBut the knights and barons would not hear of this, saying that they\nhad lent themselves to treachery to save their native land, but that\nthe life of the noblest knight in Christendom should not be lost\nthereby.  So he was put into prison, and kept under a strong guard\nfor several years.\n\nNow, after these days did Achar, King of England, land in France to\ndo homage to the Emperor for his lands; and with him came his fair\ndaughter Clarice.  But as he journeyed to the Court a certain Saracen\ngiant named Bruhier arrived with a great army to make war upon the\nFranks, and he seized the persons of Achar and his daughter, and\nmarched to fight against the Emperor.  And so great was the power of\nthis giant that the Frankish army could not stand before him, but\nfled before his face.  Then the barons and knights began to implore\nCharles to release Olger from his prison and prevail on him to fight\nfor them, and forthwith the Emperor went himself ta the prison to\nimplore his aid.  But Olger would not listen for a moment to this\nproposal, unless the Emperor would first deliver Charlot the prince\ninto his hands.  For a long time the Emperor would not agree to this;\nbut at length his whole army reproached him, saying: \"Have you no\ncare for us that you let us die by thousands in a hopeless fight?\nWhy should a thousand die for one?\"\n\nSo Charles was forced to deliver up his son.\n\nThen, as Charlot begged and prayed for mercy, Olger thought only of\nhis fair-haired little boy, and, taking the prince by the hair,\nraised Courtain to strike off his head.  But as he did so a voice\nfrom the air cried: \"Stay thy hand, Olger the Dane!  Slay not the son\nof the King!\" and at the same moment vivid flashes of lightning came\nabout them both.  Then the sword fell from Olger's hand, and all who\nhad heard the voice trembled and greatly feared.  The King, in his\njoy at the deliverance of his son, would have poured out his\ngratitude to the Dane; but Olger only said: \"Your thanks are due to\nGod, not to me.  I do but bow to His will.\"  And that day the King\nand Olger were made friends.\n\nBut when the Dane would have made ready to fight against the Saracen,\nhe found that nothing had been heard or seen of his good horse\nBroiefort for seven long years, and all men believed him to be dead.\nThe Emperor sent him his best charger in his stead, but scarcely had\nthe knight leaped into the saddle when the creature fell beneath his\nweight.  Ten other of the finest horses in the land were tried, and,\nfinding that none could carry him, Olger declared that he must go\nafoot.  But a certain man was found who said he had seen the horse\nBroiefort dragging blocks of stone for the building of the Abbey of\nSt Meaux, and immediately a little band rode off to bring the horse\nback to his master.  They found him but skin and bone, his hair worn\noff his sides, his tail shorn to the stump, his skin galled by the\nshafts, a very scarecrow of a horse, yet dragging a load that four\nother horses could not stir.  They brought him to Olger with all\nspeed; and when the sturdy knight leaned upon him, he did not cringe\nunder the weight, but straightened himself, and, knowing his master,\nsnorted and neighed with joy, and pawed the ground, and knelt down\nhumbly before him on the grass.\n\nSo Olger went to battle upon Broiefort, and wherever he went he won\nthe day.  He slew the giant Bruhier, drove the Saracen from the land,\nand rescued King Achar, and his daughter Clarice, whom the King of\nBritain gave him for his wife.  And when they were married, they\ncrossed the sea, and Achar made Olger King of Britain in his stead.\nFor many years he ruled this country, and there his faithful\nBroiefort died and was buried.  At length he grew weary of peace, and\nwent to fight for the Holy Cross in Palestine; and there he fought\nmany a hard battle, and won many a victory, till he was old and grey\nwith years.  Then he left the Holy Land, and set sail for France that\nhe might see Charles the Great and his Court once more before he\nreturned to Britain, there to end his days.\n\nBut on that journey there came upon them a great storm; and the\ntempestuous wind drove the ship in which Olger was far away from the\nrest, into strange seas, without rudder, oars, or mast; and a strong\ncurrent seized the vessel, and crashed it against a reef of loadstone\nrock.  All who were on board leaped into the waves, and were soon\ndashed lifeless against the beach; only Sir Olger remained upon the\ndeck in the black darkness, gazing out upon the stormy sea.  He bared\nhis head, and, drawing Courtain, kissed the crossed hilt, and thanked\nGod for the courage given him as a soldier all his life, and then\nquietly awaited death.\n\n\n\nIII. The Return from Avalon\n\nDarker and wilder grew the night, when, just as the waves seemed\nabout to overwhelm the ship, a voice from the air cried, clear and\nstrong: \"Olger, I wait for thee.  Come, and fear not the waves.\"  And\nimmediately he cast himself into the sea, and was borne on the crest\nof a great billow high up in the air, and placed in safety among the\nrocks.  A weird light shone through the gloom, and showed a narrow\npathway through the crags, and, following this, Olger presently saw a\nbrilliant glow in front of him, which gradually took the shape of a\nshining palace, which none can see by day, but which at nightfall\nglows with unearthly splendour.  Its walls were of ivory, inlaid with\ngold and ebony, and within its spacious hall was set a most rare\nbanquet upon a golden table.  But the only inhabitant of the palace\nwas a fairy horse named Papillon, who signed to Olger to seat himself\nat the banquet, and brought him water in a golden pitcher for his\nhands, and served him at table while he ate.  When he had finished,\nPapillon carried him off to a bed, in the pillars of which stood\ngolden candlesticks, wherein wax tapers burned the whole night\nthrough.\n\nSo Olger slept; but when he awoke next day, the fairy palace had\nvanished in the morning light, and he found himself lying in a fair\ngarden, where the trees were always green and the flowers unfading\nand the summer never comes to an end, where no storm ever darkens the\nsweet, soft sky, and the chill of sunset is not known.  For it was a\ngarden in the vale of Avalon, in Fairyland.\n\nAnd as he gazed around him, greatly wondering, there appeared at his\nside Morgan le Fay, Queen of the Fairies, clothed in shining white\napparel, and said to him: \"Welcome, dear knight, to Avalon.  Long\nhave I waited and wearied for your coming.  Now you are mine for\never.  The ages may roll away, and the world fall to pieces; we will\ndream for ever in this vale, where all things are the same.\"  Then\nshe put an enchanted ring on his finger, and immediately he became a\nyouth again, beautiful and vigorous.  And on his head she placed a\ncrown of myrtle leaves and laurel, all in gold; and Olger remembered\nno more his former life, for she had given him the Crown of\nForgetfulness.\n\nSo Olger sojourned in that fair land; and there he met and talked\nwith King Arthur, healed now of his mortal wound, and the forms of\nSir Lancelot and Sir Tristram and of many other noble knights of the\nTable Bound.\n\n[Illustration: OLGER IN FAIRYLAND]\n\nAnd so two hundred years passed by like a beautiful dream.\n\nMeantime sad events had taken place in the land of France.  No great\nleader had arisen after Charles the Great, and the land had fallen\ninto poverty and shame.  Everywhere the Franks were beaten back by\nPaynim and by Saracen, and chivalry seemed lost for ever.  In vain\nthe people cried out for a deliverer; and at length Morgan le Fay\nheard and pitied them.  So she went to Olger the Dane, and said to\nhim:\n\n\"Dear knight, how long have you dwelt here with me?\"\n\n\"It may be a week, a month, or perchance a year,\" he answered,\nsmiling, \"for I have lost all count of time.\"\n\nThen Morgan le Fay lifted the Crown of Forgetfulness from his brows,\nand at once his memory came to him again.\n\n\"I must go back,\" he cried, as though awaking from sleep.  \"Too long\nhave I tarried here.  Clarice will be calling for me, and Charles, my\nmaster, will have summoned Olger in vain.  Where is my sword, my\nhorse!  Now let me go, fair queen, but tell me first how long I have\ndwelt here.\"\n\n\"It seems not long to me, dear knight,\" said she; \"but you shall go\nwhen you will.\"\n\nThen Morgan le Fay brought to life again his dead squire Benoist, and\nbrought out Courtain, his good sword, and led forth Papillon for his\nsteed.  \"Keep safe the ring upon your hand,\" said she, \"for so long\nas you wear it, youth and vigour shall not fail you.  And take also\nthis torch, but see you light it not, for so long as it remains\nunlighted your life is safe; but, if ever it should begin to burn,\nguard the flame well, for with the last spark of the torch shall your\ndays end.\"\n\nShe wove, moreover, a spell about them, so that they fell into a deep\nsleep.  And when Sir Olger awoke, he found himself lying by a\nfountain, with his sword and armour near by, and Benoist holding\nPapillon ready for him to mount.  Leaping on their horses, they rode\nalong till, not far from a town, they overtook a horseman.\n\n\"What city is this, good sir?\" asked Olger.\n\n\"Montpellier,\" answered the man.\n\n\"Ah, yes; I had forgotten,\" said Olger.  \"Yet I ought to know well\nenough, for a kinsman of mine is governor there.\"  And he named the\nman whom he believed to be the governor.\n\n\"You are strangely in error,\" said the horseman, \"though I remember\nnow to have heard there was a ruler of that name two hundred years\nago.  He was a great writer of romances, and I daresay you know,\nsince you claim him as your ancestor, that he wrote the romance of\nOlger the Dane.  A good story enough, though, of course, no one\nbelieves it now, save perhaps one man, who often sings it about the\ncity, and picks up money from the passers-by.\"  Then he fell back a\nfew paces, and riding beside Benoist, said to him: \"Who is your\nmaster?\"\n\n\"Surely you must know him,\" said the squire; \"he is Olger the Dane.\"\n\n\"Rascal!\" cried the stranger, \"you are making a jest of me.  All men\nknow that Olger the Dane perished in shipwreck two hundred years ago.\nThat is a fine story indeed!\"  And he rode away.\n\nThe knight and his squire pursued their journey till they came to the\nmarket-place of Meaux, where they stopped at the door of an inn well\nknown to them in former days.\n\n\"Can we lodge here?\" asked Olger.\n\n\"Certainly you can,\" replied the innkeeper.\n\n\"Then fetch the landlord to speak with me.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the man, \"I am the landlord.\"\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said Olger; \"I wish to see Hubert the Neapolitan, the\nlandlord of this house.\"\n\nThe man gave him one look, and then, taking him for a madman, bolted\nthe door in his face, and, rushing to an upper window, cried: \"Seize\nthat horseman for a madman.  He asks to see Hubert, my grandfather's\ngrandfather, who has been dead two hundred years.  Send for the Abbot\nof St Faron, that he may drive out the evil spirit from him.\"\n\nThen a crowd began to gather, and stones and darts were hurled at the\nknight and his man, and in the scuffle that followed Benoist was shot\ndead by an archer.  And when Sir Olger saw that, he was filled with\nthe fiercest wrath, and rode Papillon at the crowd, and scattered\nthem, cutting down with his sword all who came within reach.  But so\nhotly burnt his wrath that it kindled the torch that he carried in\nhis breast, so he rode away with it to the Abbey of St Faron.  There\nthe Abbot met him, to whom Olger said: \"Is your name Simon?  You at\nleast should know me, seeing that I founded this abbey and endowed it\nwith lands and money.\"  But the Abbot answered that he knew little of\nthose who had preceded him, and asked the stranger's name.  And when\nhe heard it he was greatly puzzled, and said to himself: \"I do\nremember me that the charters of the house say that Simon was Abbot\nin the days of the founder, Olger the Dane; yet what does all this\nmean?\"  And aloud he said: \"Sir Knight, the Abbot Simon has been\nburied for nigh two hundred years.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried the knight.  \"Simon dead!  And Charles the Great and\nCaraheu and Clarice, my wife?  Where are they?  Not dead too?  Oh,\nsay they are not dead!\"\n\n\"Dead--dead two hundred years ago, my son,\" said the Abbot solemnly.\nThen Sir Olger was filled with awe and wonder, as he began to realise\nthat his dream of Avalon was true after all.  Following the Abbot\ninto the church he told his strange story; and the Abbot believed\nhim, and rejoiced to think that a deliverer had been sent to France\nat last.  Then Olger told him the secret of the torch, and begged him\nto make an iron treasure-house beneath the church, wherein so little\nair could come that the flame might dwindle to a single spark, and\nyet be nourished and preserved for many years to come.  And when this\nwas done, and the torch was safely disposed of, the Abbot begged to\nsee the magic ring.  But when Olger heedlessly drew it from his\nfinger, immediately his youth and vigour vanished, and he became a\nhelpless old man, whose skin hung loose like withered parchment, and\nwhose only sign of life was the quivering of his toothless jaws.  The\nterrified Abbot hastily put back the ring on the fleshless finger,\nand immediately Olger's strength and youth returned, and he rode off\non Papillon to fight for France.  The enemy was then stationed before\nChartres, and so strong they were that the Franks were falling back\ndisheartened before them, when suddenly, just as in former days, a\ngigantic knight riding a coal-black horse appeared in their midst,\nand everywhere he rode was marked by a long line of slain.  Then the\nastonished Franks remembered the stories they had heard in the days\nof old, and murmured to one another: \"It is Olger the Dane!\"  One\nafter the other passed it on, till the murmur grew to a cry, and the\ncry to a shout of \"Olger!  Olger the Dane!\" and, rushing upon the\nfoe, they swept the paynims from the field.  Over and over again did\nOlger thus lead the Franks to victory, until at length the land was\nfree.  And always while he fought the torch burned bright in the\nChurch of St Faron, but when he rested it dwindled to a spark again.\n\nAt length the renowned and glorious knight had leisure to visit the\nFrench Court.  He found that the King of France had lately died, but\nthe Queen received him with all kindness; and her waiting maid, the\nLady of Senlis, loved him so much that she would gladly have wedded\nhim, but he would have nothing to do with her.  Now, one day these\nladies discovered the secret of the magic ring; for, finding him one\nday asleep upon a couch after a long journey, they drew the ring from\nhis finger, meaning to jest with him about it when he awoke.  Much to\ntheir horror, the strong man withered up before their eyes, and\nbecame an ancient skeleton.  Then the Queen, knowing from this that\nit was truly Olger the Dane, immediately replaced the ring, and he\nregained his former youth.  But the Lady of Senlis, determined that\nsince Olger did not care for her, he should love no one else, sent\nthirty strong knights to waylay him as he left the Court, and to\nwrest the ring of Morgan le Fay from his hand.  But Sir Olger spurred\nPapillon among them, with Courtain drawn in his hand, and so escaped\nuntouched.  After this the Queen herself wished to marry Olger, for\nshe said: \"He, and he alone, is worthy to sit upon the throne of\nCharles the Great.\"  And to this Olger agreed, for he felt to sit in\nhis master's seat was the highest earthly honour he could win.  So\nwith great pomp and ceremony they prepared for the wedding.  The\ngreat church blazed with golden banners as a lordly procession\nentered and proclaimed the approaching coronation of the new-made\nKing; and Sir Olger took the Queen by the hand, and led her forward,\nand knelt with her upon the chancel pavement.  But ere the marriage\nvows were spoken, a brighter light than any on earth shone upon them,\nand all at once a thick white cloud wrapped round the knight.  Some\nsay that Morgan le Fay was seen floating down through the cloud, with\narms outstretched, to carry off her knight.  However that may be,\nwhen the cloud had cleared away Sir Olger was no more to be seen upon\nthis earth.  But men whisper that Olger the Dane lives yet, for the\ntorch still burns in the treasure-house of the Abbey of St Faron.  He\nis only asleep in the faery islands of Avalon, and one day he will\nawaken, and return again, return to deliver France once more in time\nof need, when the Franks shall turn, and conquer their foes, with\ntheir ancient battle-cry of \"Olger!  Olger the Dane!\"\n\n\n_From the Anglo-Norman Romance of Charlemagne, about the twelfth\ncentury, but undoubtedly borrowed from a Celtic source, since the\nwhole spirit of the tale is Celtic in origin._\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of King Fortager\n\nConstaunce, King of Britain, was a mighty man of valour, and in his\ndays the people were freed from their enemies, but when he died, his\neldest son, Moyne the Monk, who had lived all his days in the Abbey\nof Winchester, sat upon the throne.  Now when Angys the Dane saw King\nMoyne to be but a studious youth, hating the thought of warfare, he\ngathered an army together, and sailed for Britain.\n\nThen was there great terror in the land; and King Moyne gave orders\nto Fortager, his father's steward, that he should put himself at the\nhead of the Britons, and fight against Angys.  But Fortager pretended\nto be very sick, so that he could not go forth to battle.  Then King\nMoyne was obliged to go himself, and so badly did he conduct the\nfight that the Britons were defeated.  And Angys took many British\ntowns and castles, and fortified them against their former owners.\nNow, there had fought under King Moyne twelve British chieftains who\nwere very ill content with the state of affairs.  They came together,\nand said: \"If Fortager had been our leader this would not have\nhappened so.\"  Then they went to Fortager to ask his counsel.  But\nFortager would only say: \"Seek counsel of your King; it will be time\nenough to ask for mine when Moyne is King no longer.\"\n\nOn hearing these words, the twelve chieftains went straightway to\nKing Moyne, and slew him as he sat at meat within his hall; after\nwhich they returned to Fortager, and greeted him as King.  But there\nwere many who yet loved the race of good King Constaunce, and some of\nthe barons took his two young sons, Aurilis-Brosias and\nUther-Pendragon, the brothers of King Moyne, and sent them away to\nBrittany, lest they too should be slain.\n\nMeantime Fortager had called together a great army, and had fought\nwith Angys and driven him from the land; and he would have killed the\nDane as he prepared to flee, had not Angys begged for mercy and\npromised to make war no more on Britain.\n\nSo Angys sailed away with his host, and Fortager marched in triumph\nto the capital.  And while he was feasting in the palace, the twelve\nchieftains who had slain King Moyne came to him, and said: \"O King,\nremember it was we who made you King and placed you here on high;\ngive us now a reward.\"  And Fortager answered: \"Now that I am King I\nwill indeed give a meet reward for traitors.\"  And, having ordered\nwild horses to be brought in, he watched them tear the traitors limb\nfrom limb upon his castle pavement.  Now, by this deed Fortager\nroused the wrath of all who had helped him to his throne, and many\nspoke of bringing back Aurilis-Brosias and Uther-Pendragon to the\nland.  And Fortager was hunted through the kingdom, and sorely\nbeaten, so that he scarce escaped with his life.\n\nAt length he determined to send for help to King Angys, which he\nforthwith did, promising him half the kingdom if he would come to his\naid.  So Angys returned again with many men and ships, and by his aid\nBritain was subdued by force of arms.  But though the war ceased\nthere was no peace in the land; and Fortager went about in deadly\nfear, first of the Britons whom he had betrayed, and next of Angys,\nlest with his powerful host he should seize the whole kingdom.  And\nlastly, he feared that the men of Brittany would come over and fight\nfor Aurilis-Brosias and Uther-Pendragon, and bring them back to their\nfather's throne.\n\nSo he determined to build a strong castle, made of well-hewn stone\nand timber--an impregnable fortress with lofty towers and\nbattlements, a deep moat and heavy drawbridge--such as had never been\nseen for strength in the world before; and he decided to rear it on\nSalisbury Plain, and so be surrounded by wastes of land, and far from\nhis foes.  At daybreak three thousand men began the work--hewers of\nwood and carpenters and masons and cunning workers in stone.  The\nfoundations were laid deep, on vast blocks of stone clamped with\niron; and by nightfall the wall had risen breast-high.  But when they\ncame to their work next morning, they found to their dismay that the\nground was scattered with the stones they had built up, and that all\nthey had done was destroyed.  That day they built it up again, laying\nthe foundations deeper than before, and clamping each stone to the\nnext with iron.  But when they came next morning all was overthrown\nas before.\n\nThen Fortager called together ten wise men, and shut them in a tower,\nopen to the sky, that they might read the stars, and find out why\nthese things should be.  And after nine days the wise men came to\nhim, and said:\n\n\"Sire, we read in the stars that an elf child has been born in\nBritain, knowing things past and things to come.  Find the child, and\nslay him on this plain, and mix the mortar with his blood, and so\nshall the wall stand fast.\"  So Fortager sent men forth to journey\nfar and wide till they should find the child, and after wandering for\nmany days and weeks, one party of messengers came to a certain town,\nand found some children quarrelling in the market-place at their\ngames.\n\n\"Thou son of a black elf,\" they heard one say, \"we will not play with\nthee, for we know not who thou art.\"  The messengers gazed hard at\nthe five-year-old child thus addressed; and immediately the boy, who\nwas called Merlin, ran up to them, and said: \"Welcome, O messengers,\nand behold him whom you seek.  But think not, for all men may say,\nthat my blood will ever make firm the castle walls of Fortager; for\nhis wise men who try to read the stars are but blind, and they\nblunder past what lies at their very feet.\"\n\nThen the men wondered greatly, and said: \"How didst thou know of our\nerrand?\"\n\nAnd Merlin answered: \"I can see as it were pictures of all that is\nand all that shall be.  I will go with you to Fortager, and show what\nhinders building up his fortress on the Plain.\"\n\nSo he mounted a pony, and followed after the men on horseback.\n\nAnd as they journeyed through a town, they saw a man buying strong\nnew shoes and leather wherewith to mend them when they wore out; and\nMerlin laughed to himself.\n\n\"Why do you laugh?\" asked the messengers.\n\n\"Because he will never wear the shoes,\" replied the boy.  And so it\ncame to pass, for the man fell dead at his door as he carried home\nthe shoes.\n\nAnd next day Merlin laughed again, and, being asked why, said: \"King\nFortager is jealous because his Queen's chamberlain is better looking\nthan he, and he threatens to take his life, knowing not that the\nhandsome fellow is but a woman in disguise.\"\n\nAnd when they came to the palace, they found that it was just as the\nboy had said, so the chamberlain's life was spared.  Then Fortager\nmarvelled greatly at the wisdom of this child of five years, and\nbegged him to reveal the mystery of his castle wall.  And Merlin\nsaid: \"The fiends have deceived your wise men by showing false signs\namong the stars; for my kindred of the air are very wroth because I\nhave been baptised into Christendom, and they seek to destroy my\nlife.  But if you send your men to dig a yard beneath the wall's\nfoundation, they will there find a stream of water running over two\nmighty stones, under which live two dragons.  Each night at sundown\nthese dragons wake, and do battle, so that the earth is shaken, and\nthe wall falls down.\"\n\nThen Fortager set his men to dig beneath the foundations as Merlin\nhad said; and presently they came to a fast and furious stream, which\nthey turned off by making another channel.  And in the river-bed were\ntwo huge stones, which it took many men to heave up, and there\nbeneath them lay the dragons.  One was as red as fire, and his body a\nrood in length, with eyes that gleamed like red-hot coals, and a\nstrong and supple tail.  The other was milk-white, and very grim of\nlook; he had two heads, and darted out white fire from his jaws.  And\nat sight of them, as they awoke from slumber, all save Merlin fled in\npanic.  Then the dragons arose, and began to fight.  And soon the air\nwas full of the fiery breath from their throats, so that it was like\nlightning on the earth, and the whole land shook with their noise and\nfury.  All that long summer night they fought with tooth and nail and\nclaw, and fell and rose, and fell and rose again, till the day\ndawned.  And by that time the red dragon had driven the white into a\nvalley, where for a while the latter stood at bay; but at length,\nrecovering himself, he forced the red dragon back into the plain\nagain, and, fixing his claws in his throat, tore him to pieces, and\nwith his fiery flame scorched him up to a heap of ashes on the plain.\nThen the white dragon flew away into the air.\n\nFrom that time Merlin became a great favourite of King Fortager, and\ncounselled him in all things.  And now, when the masons began to\nbuild, the wall no longer fell down as before, and in course of time\na fair white castle arose upon the plain, stronger and mightier than\nany that the world had ever seen.\n\nThen Fortager sent for Merlin, and asked what the battle of the\ndragons really meant, and if it betokened things that should yet come\nto pass.  But the boy would answer nothing.  Then in his anger King\nFortager threatened to slay him; but Merlin only laughed in scorn,\nsaying:\n\n\"You will never see my death-day.  Strike if you will, and bind me\nfast, but you will only fight the air.\"\n\nThen Fortager began to entreat him humbly, and swore that no harm\nshould come to him whatever he should say.  And at length Merlin told\nhim that the red dragon betokened Fortager and the power he had\nobtained through killing King Moyne.  The white dragon with the two\nheads represented the true heirs, Aurilis-Brosias and\nUther-Pendragon, whose kingdom he held, and as the white dragon,\nhunted to the valley, there regained his breath, and drove back the\nred dragon to the plain, so should these heirs, driven out to\nBrittany, find help and succour there, and were even now sailing to\nBritain with a vast army to hunt King Fortager through the land, and\nto drive him to his castle on the Plain.  And there, while he was\nshut up, with his wife and children, he should be burnt to ashes.\n\nThen King Fortager, when he heard this, was grieved at heart, and\nprayed Merlin to tell him how to avoid this terrible fate, or at\nleast how he might escape with his life.  But Merlin only answered:\n\n\"What will be, will be.\"\n\nThen Fortager, in his wrath, tried to seize the boy; but Merlin\nvanished from his sight, and while they sought him, he was all the\ntime far away in the cell of Blaise the hermit.  And there he\nremained for many a year, and wrote a book concerning all the things\nthat were going to happen in Britain.\n\nMeantime all that he had foretold took place.  For Uther-Pendragon\nand his brother marched to Winchester with an army, and when the\ncitizens saw the banner of their old British kings, they drove out\nthe Danish garrison, and opened the gates to the sons of Constaunce.\nAnd not one of the men of Britain would fight on the side of Fortager\nor Angys, nor would the men of their armies fight against their\nfriends and brothers in the land.  So they won an easy victory, and\ndrove Fortager away to his fortress on Salisbury Plain, where he shut\nhimself up with his wife and children.  And the men of Britain threw\nwildfire on the walls, and burnt him there, and all that belonged to\nhim, and made his castle walls level with the ground.\n\nBut Angys fled away to a fortress on a hill, whither Uther-Pendragon\nfollowed, but could not come to him because of the strong bulwarks by\nwhich it was surrounded.\n\nThen, hearing men speak often of the wisdom of Merlin,\nUther-Pendragon sent men far and wide to seek him.  And one day, when\nthese messengers sat at dinner, there came in to them an old beggar,\nwith a snow-white beard and ragged shoes and a staff in his hand, and\nsaid: \"Ye are wise messengers who seek the child Merlin!  Often\nto-day have ye passed him on the road, and yet ye knew him not.  Go\nback to Uther, and tell him that Merlin waits in the wood hard by;\nfor, search as ye will, ye will never find him.\"\n\nAnd with these words the old man disappeared.  Then the messengers,\nwondering greatly, returned, and told all to Uther, who left his\nbrother to maintain the siege, and went to the wood to seek Merlin.\nAnd first he met a swineherd, who said he had lately seen the elf\nchild, and then a chapman with his pack, who said the same.  Then\ncame a countryman, who said that Merlin would surely keep his tryst,\nbut that Uther must be patient, as he still had some work to do ere\nhe sought the palace.\n\nSo the prince waited patiently far into the night; and at length the\ncountryman returned to him, saying: \"I am Merlin, and I will now go\nwith you to the camp.\"\n\nWhen they got there Aurilis-Brosias came out to meet them, and said:\n\"Brother, there came a countryman in the night, who waked me, saying:\n'Angys is come out of his fortress, and has stolen past your\nsentinels, and is in your camp, seeking to take your life.'  So I\nsprang up, and, seeing Angys at the door, I rushed upon him, and slew\nhim, my sword passing through his coat of mail as if it had been\nnaught.  But when all was over, the countryman had vanished.\"\n\nThen Uther answered: \"Brother, here is the countryman, and he is\nMerlin.\"  Then were the princes much rejoiced, and thanked Merlin for\nhis timely aid.  And in the morning the Danes and Saxons yielded up\ntheir citadel, and asked leave to sail away to their own land.\n\nSo the country was once more free; and the Britons took\nUther-Pendragon, the elder of the brothers, and crowned him King at\nWinchester.\n\nFor seven long years he reigned and prospered; and Merlin was\ncounsellor not only to him, but to his son, the great King Arthur,\nafter him.\n\nAmongst the deeds which were performed by the magician to please the\nKing, it is told:\n\n  \"How Merlin, by his skill, and magic's wondrous might,\n  From Ireland hither brought the Stonendge in a night.\"\n                                                DRAYTON.\n\nAnd many of these stones may still be seen standing upon Salisbury\nPlain.\n\n\n_From the Romance of Merlin.  Thirteenth or fourteenth century._","title":"Old Celtic tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":26412}