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 "Wonder Stories 
 from the Mkbino tf ion 
 
 BY DS EDWARD BROOKS A.M 
 
 of 
 
 "Th Siory of gjatf Arthur". "The StoryofTri/trori etc 
 
 THE FENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 MCMIX
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 1908 BY 
 THE PENN 
 PUBLISHING 
 COMPANY
 
 URC 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 The stories of this book had their origin in Wales 
 as early perhaps as the fifth or sixth century. They 
 are the product of the early Welsh people, who 
 were noted for their active fancy, vivid imagina- 
 tion, and love of the marvelous. They show a 
 simple and childlike spirit that finds a ready belief 
 in the deeds of magic and enchantment, and are 
 thus a mirror of the character of the early Celtic 
 people whom we call Britons. It is believed that 
 these wonder stories, so full of heroic adventures 
 and supernatural incidents, will be found of es- 
 pecial interest to the young. 
 
 The people of Wales, like the primitive people 
 of other nations, were at an early date given to the 
 reciting of marvelous adventures in both prose 
 and poetry. These adventures were sung by their 
 bards and related by their story tellers from one 
 generation to another, and were thus preserved as 
 folk lore throughout the centuries. At length 
 when a knowledge of writing was introduced they 
 were put into a permanent form of written manu- 
 scripts to be preserved for modern times. These 
 manuscripts are found in the public libraries of sev-
 
 preface 
 
 eral institutions, as the British Museum, Jesus Col- 
 lege at Oxford, the University of Cambridge, and 
 in the hands of private individuals. So difficult 
 were they of access and so few scholars understood 
 the Welsh language that for many years no suc- 
 cessful attempt was made to give them to the world 
 of English readers. 
 
 One of the earliest attempts to present these 
 manuscripts to the public was that of Mr. Owen 
 Jones, who in 1801-3 published in three volumes a 
 large number of ancient Welsh poems and prose 
 compositions. Mr. Jones was a furrier in London 
 and the son of a Welshman, and his patriotic spirit 
 is shown in the fact that the publication of these 
 volumes cost him a considerable share of his for- 
 tune. Edward Williams, a stone mason, was the 
 chief contributor to the collection, and Dr. William 
 Owen was the author of the principal dictionary of 
 the Welsh terms used. Owing to a lack of knowl- 
 edge and critical judgment on the part of the trans- 
 lators and compilers, the work proved of little value 
 and attracted but little attention at that time. 
 
 The most noted of these manuscripts was called 
 the Red Book of Hergest, so called from Hergest 
 Court, one of the seats of the Vaughns, for whom 
 it was probably compiled. This important manu- 
 script, the chief repository of Welsh literature, is 
 a folio volume of 360 leaves of vellum, written in 
 double columns at different times from the early 
 
 vi
 
 preface 
 
 part of the fourteenth to the middle of the fifteenth 
 century. It has lain for many years and is now in 
 the library of Jesus College, Oxford. It contains a 
 body of poems together with eleven prose tales, 
 four of which are called Mabinogion, the plural of 
 Mabinogi, or tale, or as sometimes rendered, Tales 
 for Youth. 
 
 This manuscript had aroused the interest of 
 English scholars and poets, and a translation of 
 it was ardently desired, but the difficulty was to 
 find persons competent to do the work. The 
 Welsh is a spoken language among the peasantry 
 of Wales, but was largely neglected by scholars 
 outside of the natives of the country. Of the few 
 Welsh scholars none were found who took suffi- 
 cient interest in these old poems and tales to at- 
 tempt to give them to the English public. The lit- 
 erary men of England, among whom were Southey 
 and Scott, who loved the old romantic legends of 
 their country, often urged upon Welsh literati the 
 duty of translating the Mabinogion into English. 
 Through the influence and with the assistance of 
 Dr. William Ow'en, Sharen Jones translated a por- 
 tion of the work of which the poet Southey said 
 "it is delightfully translated into so Welsh an idiom 
 and syntax that such a translation is as instructive 
 as the original." But it is presumed that the trans- 
 lator had an imperfect knowledge of literary 
 English and the work was never published. 
 
 vii
 
 Preface 
 
 At length, in the early part of the nineteenth 
 century, there appeared an individual of the requi- 
 site knowledge of the two languages and of en- 
 thusiasm sufficient for the task, and also of pecuni- 
 ary resources sufficient to be independent of the 
 booksellers and the reading public. This person 
 was Lady Charlotte Guest, an English lady, the 
 wife of a gentleman of property in Wales, who 
 having acquired a knowledge of the Welsh lan- 
 guage and possessing an enthusiastic admiration 
 for these literary treasures, set herself to their 
 translation. In 1838 she published in four octavo 
 volumes a translation of the eleven prose tales of 
 the Red Book, accompanied by their Welsh origi- 
 nals and a mass of useful and scholarly notes. 
 
 Several of these tales, it will be seen, refer to 
 King Arthur and some of the Knights of the 
 Round Table. They were probably conceived at a 
 much earlier period than those presented in Sir 
 Thomas Malory's "Morte D'Arthur"; but they, 
 with other tales of that early period not reduced to 
 writing, may have constituted the original germs 
 of the Arthurian romances which later overspread 
 Europe and were finally put in permanent and 
 poetic form by the genius of Malory. Geoffrey of 
 Monmouth, it will be remembered, published his 
 History of the Britons in 1156, and in it he states 
 that the source of his material was a Welsh book 
 
 viii
 
 preface 
 
 given him by a certain person since supposed to be 
 a Walter Map or Mapes. 
 
 The origin of the characters and incidents of 
 King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table 
 is undoubtedly due to the bards and storytellers of 
 Wales. In the bardic songs and elsewhere frequent 
 allusion is made to this heroic prince who with his 
 warriors resisted the Saxon invaders of Britain. 
 His deeds were magnified by the Welsh Britons, 
 and the chroniclers wove these traditions into a 
 legendary history of Britain, and from this source 
 Geoffrey constructed his work, which the poets of 
 chivalry, allured by the beauty and pathos of the 
 tale, made for several centuries the centre of the 
 most glowing pictures of romance. These tales 
 passed over into France and were especially popu- 
 lar with that romantic people. Modified by the 
 classic taste and inventive genius of the Normans, 
 they received their final and exquisitely beautiful 
 form through the poetic genius of Malory. 
 
 The stories of the Mabinogion, while full of 
 strange and interesting adventures, are inferior in 
 literary finish and poetic beauty to those of Malory. 
 They indicate a much earlier and ruder period of 
 society and a stronger belief in the influence of 
 magic and in supernatural events and incidents. 
 There is in these tales an almost complete absence 
 of the spirit of Christianity, which like a golden 
 thread runs through the entire narrative of the Ar- 
 
 ix
 
 preface 
 
 thurian legends. But while sometimes rough and 
 bloody, they are free from any incidents of indeli- 
 cacy or impurity, in marked contrast to the Ho- 
 meric poems and the early literature of Southern 
 Europe. They indicate that the people of Wales 
 were accustomed to modesty and purity of thought 
 and speech, characteristics for which they are 
 noted at the present time. 
 
 One marked feature of these tales, as already in- 
 timated, is their extravagance and lack of restraint 
 as compared with the tales of King Arthur. Of 
 the many instances of this nature we mention those 
 of Sir Kay, who could remain for nine days and 
 nights under water, and render himself as tall as 
 the highest tree in the forest; of Bedyr, who had a 
 lance that would produce a wound equal to those 
 of nine opposing lances; of the courser of Kilwch 
 whose tread was so light that the blades of grass 
 bent not beneath it; of Menw who could cast a 
 charm over a country that none of its people could 
 see him and his companions, while they could see 
 the people; of the making of the wife of Llew Llaw 
 Gyffes out of flowers, and of the changing of her 
 into an owl; of the stretching of the body of Bendi- 
 geid Vran across a river as a bridge upon which 
 his army could pass over; of the changing of women 
 into mice to feed upon the grain of Manawyddan, 
 and changing them back again into women. But 
 these wild flights of fancy, though detracting from
 
 preface 
 
 the literary merits of the tales, add to their interest 
 for youthful readers who delight in the magical 
 adventures of the Arabian Nights and works of 
 a similar character. 
 
 Another striking feature of these stories is the 
 intense feeling of color possessed by these early 
 people of Wales. Thus in the story of Kilwch 
 and Olwen we read the following exquisite descrip- 
 tion : "The maiden was clothed in a robe of flame- 
 colored silk; and about her neck was a collar of 
 ruddy gold on which were precious emeralds and 
 rubies. More yellow was her head than the flow- 
 ers of the broom; and her skin was whiter than 
 the foam of the wave; and fairer were her hands 
 and her fingers than the blossoms of the vivid 
 anemone amidst the spray of the meadow foun- 
 tain. Her bosom was more snowy than the 
 breast of the white swan; her cheek was redder 
 than the reddest roses. Whoso beheld her was 
 filled with love for her. Four white trefoils sprang 
 up wherever she trod, and therefore she was called 
 Olwen." Many other passages illustrate the deli- 
 cate sense of these people to the charms of the 
 hues and tints of land and sea. In this respect the 
 Celts seem to have been much superior to the 
 Greeks who, as represented by Homer, had a 
 limited knowledge or appreciation of color, or but 
 little taste for it in literary description. 
 
 The fondness of the early people of Wales for 
 
 xi
 
 preface 
 
 ornaments of gold, silver, precious stones and 
 costly fabrics is also apparent in these tales. In 
 the Dream of Maxen Wledig we read: "And he 
 saw a maiden sitting before him in a chair of ruddy 
 gold. A vest of white silk was upon her, with 
 clasps of red gold at the breast; and a surcoat of 
 gold tissue upon her, and a frontlet of red gold 
 upon her head, and rubies and gems were in the 
 frontlet, alternating with pearls and imperial 
 stones. And a girdle of ruddy gold was around 
 her." In the Dream of Rhonabwy, in describing a 
 Knight, we read, "A golden helmet was upon the 
 head of the Knight, wherein were set sapphire 
 stones of great virtue. And at the top of the hel- 
 met was the figure of a flame colored lion with a 
 fiery-red tongue issuing above a foot from his 
 mouth," etc. These and other passages show the 
 fondness of the early Celts for richness of apparel 
 and costly ornaments; and are as perfect in their 
 way as the similar descriptions in the Iliad pictur- 
 ing the dress of the warriors and Celestial deities. 
 Another peculiarity of these tales is the Quaker- 
 like reserve in respect to titles. In Malory's book 
 we are accustomed to the titles of King, Queen 
 and Sir used before the names of the various peo- 
 ple; as King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, Sir Ga- 
 waine, Sir Kay, etc. ; while in the Mabinogion these 
 titles are ignored and they are spoken to and of as 
 Arthur, Guinevere, Gawaine, Kay, etc. In a num- 
 
 xii
 
 preface 
 
 ber of cases, I have, in this version of the work, 
 supplied the appropriate titles to the different 
 characters especially to King Arthur and Queen 
 Guinevere as seeming more in accord with the 
 courteous spirit of the days of Knighthood. 
 
 There are eleven stories in the Mabinogion as 
 translated by Lady Guest. All of these are given 
 in this book, though their order has been some- 
 what changed with the purpose of securing greater 
 variety and thus adding to the interest of young 
 readers. Several of the stories are given almost 
 verbatim, but most of them are abbreviated by 
 omitting uninteresting details; and in many cases 
 the language is slightly changed to correspond 
 more nearly with present usage. Enough of the 
 language of the translator, however, is retained to 
 preserve the literary flavor and quaintness of the 
 original. The story of "Sir Gawaine and the Red 
 Knight" is selected from a source other than the 
 Mabinogion. 
 
 I have also changed the names and the spelling 
 of several characters to correspond with the same 
 names or their equivalents in Malory's King Ar- 
 thur. Thus in the Mabinogion we have "Gwen- 
 hwyvar" which is here changed to the simpler form 
 of Guinevere; "Gwalchmai" is the "Sir Gawaine" 
 of Malory's work, and in this book the latter form 
 is used. Sir Kay is in the Mabinogion spelled Kai, 
 but I have preferred to use the former spelling as 
 
 xiii
 
 preface 
 
 the readers of my "Story of King Arthur" and the 
 "Story of Tristram" are familiar with that form. 
 A few other changes have been made in the text to 
 correspond with modern literary usage. The 
 longer stories have been divided into chapters with 
 the view of adding to the interest of young readers. 
 As in my other stories for the young, beginning 
 with the Story of the Iliad, I have written this 
 book for the information and interest of the boys 
 and girls of my country. I have spent a long life 
 in the education and supervision of the teachers of 
 the young, and these young people are very near 
 and dear to my heart. I realize that on their proper 
 training in knowledge and virtue depend not only 
 their own welfare but the future greatness and 
 glory of the country; and I send forth this little 
 volume of Wonder Tales in the hope and belief 
 that it may contribute in some small degree to their 
 culture and happiness. 
 
 EDWARD BROOKS 
 
 Philadelphia, Nov. 20, 1907. 
 
 xiv
 
 preface 
 
 THE PRONUNCIATION OF WELSH NAMES 
 
 The spelling of Welsh proper names seems awk- 
 ward and uncouth to the general reader, and they 
 are difficult of correct pronunciation. For this 
 reason I have omitted many names found in the 
 original, and have modified the spelling of a few 
 names, which are found also in King Arthur, as ex- 
 plained in the preface. A few directions in respect 
 to the proper pronunciation of those names given 
 in the work will be presented, though no written 
 explanation can indicate the exact speech of the 
 Welsh people. This must be heard and imitated 
 in order that the ear and tongue may become ac- 
 customed to the sounds. 
 
 The letters presenting the greatest difficulties 
 are w, II, y and ch. The letter w is usually pro- 
 nounced oo as in cool. Thus the name "Kilwch" is 
 pronounced Kilhooch. Where the w precedes a 
 vowel this sound of oo, of course, becomes prac- 
 tically the consonant sound of w; as for examples, 
 ooet rapidly pronounced would become wet; so also 
 in "Llywarch" or "Gwyddion," the w before the a 
 and 3; would be sounded like the English w. The 
 // is similar to the Spanish // in llanos but with an 
 aspirated sound made by forcing the breath 
 through the back teeth so forcibly as to give to the 
 English ear the sound of a strongly lisped s. If the 
 organs be arranged so as to pronounce the y in 
 yield and the sound lh be vigorously forced in that 
 
 xv
 
 preface 
 
 position, something like the Welsh // results. 
 
 The letter y, if long, is like the German , or 
 the French u in une; or very nearly like the English 
 ee in seen. The y short is much like our short u 
 except in the last syllable of words, where it is 
 more like our short i in English. 
 
 The ch is gutteral, as in the Scotch word loch 
 or the German ach. The vowels a, e, i, in the 
 Welsh names are mostly sounded as short English 
 a, e, i; the o as long o; the u as a rapidly pronounced 
 M. The frequently recurring aw is like ou in our 
 word our, or the German au in haus. The combi- 
 nation dd is very nearly like th in then, only with 
 more of d than t blended with the sound of h. 
 
 The letter c is always k, Celt is pronounced Kelt, 
 and Cynon as Kynon; there is no soft c in Welsh. 
 The f is always v; it is ff that has the sound of f 
 as in our word fan. The letter g is always hard as 
 in go; the f/t is sounded as in our word thanks, but 
 not as in then. All the other letters may be given 
 the same sound that they have in English names. 
 
 These suggestions will enable the readers of 
 these stories to give a fairly correct pronunciation 
 of the names of the persons and places mentioned, 
 though of course it would lack some of those pe- 
 culiarities of articulation and intonation which give 
 a peculiar flavor and richness to the Welsh tongue. 
 
 xvi
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE LADY AND THE FOUNTAIN 
 
 PAGB 
 
 I. THE STRANGE ADVENTURE OF KYNON 1 
 
 II. THE ADVENTURE OF OWAIN WITH THE COUNTESS 10 
 
 III. GAWAINE GOES ON AN ADVENTURE IN SEARCH OF OWAIN.. 20 
 
 IV. OWAIN AGAIN FINDS THE COUNTESS 31 
 
 KILWCH AND OLWEN 
 
 I. How KILWCH SOUGHT OLWEN FOR His WIFE 38 
 
 II. How KILWCH WON OLWEN FOR His WIFE 57 
 
 SIR GAWAINE AND THE GREEN KNIGHT 71 
 
 PEREDUR, THE SON OF EVRAWC 
 
 I. How PEREDUR BECAME A KNIGHT 84 
 
 II. How PEREDUR RESCUED A FAIR LADY 05 
 
 III. How PEREDUR AVENGED HIMSELF ON SIR KAT 106 
 
 IV. How PEREDUR WON His LADY LOVE 113 
 
 V. How PEREDUR SLEW THE SERPENT ADDANC 121 
 
 VI. How PEREDUR SOUGHT THE CASTLE OF WONDERS 134 
 
 GERAINT AND ENID 
 
 I. How GERAINT WON ENID FOR His BRIDE 148 
 
 II. How GERAINT CAME TO THE COURT OF KINO ARTHUR. . . . 161 
 
 III. How GERAINT RETURNED FROM CORNWALL 167 
 
 IV. How ENIU AND GERAINT BECAME UNHAPPY 173 
 
 V. How GERAINT MET ARTHUR AND GAWAINE 188 
 
 VI. How GERAINT AND ENID BECAME HAPPY AGAIN 103 
 
 THE STORY OF PWYLL AND RHIANNON 
 
 I. How PWYLL WON RHIANNON FOR His BRIDE 200 
 
 II. Tux FALSE ACCUSATION ASAINBT RHIANNON... . .214
 
 Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 BRANWEN, THE DAUGHTER OF LLYR 
 
 I. How BRANWEN BECAME THE WIFE or MATHOLWCH 224 
 
 II. THE SAO FATE OF BRANWEN AND HER SON 235 
 
 THE STORY OF MANAWYDDAN AND THE MICE 
 
 I. How MANAWYDDAN AND PRTDERI WERE LOST IN THE 
 
 MAGIC CASTLE 243 
 
 II. How MANAWYDDAN RESCUED PHYDERI AND RHIANNON. . .253 
 
 THE DREAM OF MAXEN WLEDIG 
 
 I. THE DREAM OF THE EMPEROR MAXEN WLEDIO 263 
 
 II. How THE EMPEROR FOUND THE OBJECT OF His DREAM... 272 
 
 THE STORY OF LLUDD AND LLEVELYS 278 
 
 LLEW LLAW AND HIS WIFE 
 
 I. How LLEW LLAW GOT His NAME AND His WIFE 287 
 
 II. THE FATE OF LLEW LLAW AND His WIFE 296 
 
 THE DREAM OF RHONABWY 306 
 
 THE STORY OF TALIESEN. . . .325
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PACK 
 RIGHT GLAD WAS TH COUNTESS OF THEIB COMING Frontispiece 
 
 THEN THEY SAW A CHEAT SMOKE WHICH DID Nor BEND 
 
 WITH THE WIND 67 
 
 AND BEHOLD ONE DAT ANOHARAD LAW EVRAWC MET HIM ,119 
 
 Aa SHE SPOKE THE TEARS DROPPED FROM HER EYES ON 
 
 HER HUSBAND 's BREAST .' 174 
 
 THEY CAUSED THE BUTCHER TO COME TO HER EVERY DAY 
 
 AND GIVE HER A BLOW 229 
 
 AND WHEN HE CAMS INTO THE COURT ARIANROD AROSE 
 
 TO MEET HIM 288 
 
 Bur WHEN THE BARD CAME Hx COULD DO NOTHING BUT PLAY 336
 
 Dedication of Lady Charlotte Guest, the translator of 
 the Mabinogion, to her two sons Ivor and Merthyr. 
 "My Dear Children: 
 
 "Infants as you are, I feel that I cannot dedicate more 
 fitly than to you these venerable relics of ancient lore, 
 and I do so in the hope of inciting you to cultivate the 
 literature of "Wyllt Walia," in whose beautiful language 
 you are being initiated and amongst whose free moun- 
 tains you were born." 
 
 "May you become early imbued with the chivalric and 
 exalted sense of honor, and the fervent patriotism for 
 which its sons have ever been celebrated." 
 
 "May you learn to emulate the noble qualities of Ivor 
 Hael, and the firm attachment to your Native Country, 
 which distinguished that Ivor Bach, after whom the elder 
 of you was named."
 
 dtotie* (torn tlje 
 
 inogion 
 
 itaby anb tfye JFountam 
 
 Chapter I 
 
 QTI)C Strange a&fct nturc of &;pn<>n 
 
 NCE upon a time King Arthur was at 
 Caerleon upon the Usk. And it 
 chanced that he was in his chamber, 
 and with him were Owain, son of Urien, and Ky- 
 non, son of Clydno, and Kay, the son of Kyner. 
 And in the chamber also was Queen Guinevere, 
 who sat with her hand-maidens at needlework by 
 the window. In the centre of the chamber King 1 
 Arthur sat upon a seat of green rushes over which 
 was spread a covering of flame colored satin, and 
 a cushion of red satin was under his elbow. 
 
 As the day drew to its close and they were wait- 
 ing for the evening repast, King Arthur grew
 
 "Cdonfcer Stories 
 
 drowsy and said, "I will sleep awhile and you may 
 entertain one another with relating tales, and may 
 also regale yourselves with a flagon of mead and 
 some meat which Sir Kay will bring you." So the 
 king went to sleep. Then Kynon asked Sir Kay 
 to get that which King Arthur had promised them ; 
 to which Sir Kay replied that he would bring them 
 forthwith and at the same time listen to the good 
 tale which Kynon had promised. But Sir Kynon 
 said that it would be better to have the good things 
 to eat and drink first, and then he would tell them 
 the best tale that he knew. 
 
 So Sir Kay went to the kitchen and to the mead 
 cellar and soon returned bearing a flagon of mead, 
 and a golden goblet, and a handful of skewers upon 
 which were broiled collops of meat. Then they 
 gathered around the table and began to eat the 
 collops and drink the mead. 
 
 "Now," said Sir Kay, "it is time for Kynon to 
 give us his story." 
 
 "Kynon," said Owain, "do thou pay to Sir Kay 
 the tale that is his due." 
 
 To which Sir Kynon replied, "I will do so, 
 though I know that thou art a better teller of tales 
 than I am." Then Sir Kynon told the tale as we 
 shall relate it. 
 
 "I was the only son of my father and my mother, 
 and in my youth I was exceedingly aspiring and 
 full of daring. Indeed, I thought there was no
 
 fftom tbc nDaWnogton 
 
 enterprise in the world too mighty for me. So 
 after I had achieved all the adventures that I could 
 find in my own country, I set forth to journey 
 throughout distant countries in search of new ones. 
 And at length it chanced that I came to the fair- 
 est valley in the world, wherein were trees all of 
 equal growth; and a river ran through the valley, 
 and a path was by the side of the river. I followed 
 the path until midday, and continued my journey 
 along the rest of the valley until the evening; and 
 at the end of a plain I came to a large and lustrous 
 castle, at the foot of which was a torrent of water. 
 
 "As I approached the castle, I beheld two youths 
 with yellow curling hair, each with a frontlet of 
 gold upon his head and each clad in a garment of 
 yellow satin ; and they had golden clasps upon their 
 insteps. In the hand of each of them was an ivory 
 bow, strung with the sinews of the stag; and their 
 arrows and their shafts were of the bone of the 
 whale and were winged with peacocks' feathers. 
 The shafts also had golden heads. And they had 
 daggers in their belts with blades of gold and with 
 hilts of the bone of the whale. And as I looked I 
 saw that they were shooting with their arrows at 
 a mark. 
 
 "A little way from these I saw a man in the prime 
 of life, with his beard newly shorn, clad in a robe 
 and mantle of yellow satin; and round the top of 
 his mantle was a band of gold lace. On his feet
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 were shoes of variegated leather fastened by two 
 bosses of gold. When I saw him I went towards 
 him and saluted him; and as soon as he received 
 my greeting he returned it, and bade me go with 
 him towards the castle. 
 
 "Now in the castle were four and twenty damsels 
 seated at the windows embroidering satin; and 
 were the fairest maids that ever were seen in 
 Britain, lovelier even than Queen Guinevere, the 
 wife of King Arthur. They all rose up at my com- 
 ing, and six of them took my horse and divested 
 me of my armor; and six others took my arms and 
 washed them in a vessel till they were perfectly 
 bright. And the third six spread cloths upon the 
 tables and prepared meat. And the fourth six took 
 off my soiled garments, and placed upon me an 
 under vest and a doublet of fine linen, and a robe 
 and a surcoat, and a mantle of yellow satin with 
 a broad gold band upon the mantle. And they 
 placed cushions both beneath me and around me, 
 with coverings of red linen upon which I was 
 seated. Then they brought bowls of silver where- 
 in was water to wash, and towels of linen, some 
 green and some white; and I washed. 
 
 "And in a little while the man of the castle sat 
 down to the table, and I sat next to him ; and below 
 me sat all the maidens except those who waited on 
 us. The table was of silver and the cloths upon the 
 table were of linen; and every vessel served upon 
 
 4
 
 from the n&abtnooton 
 
 tlie table was either of gold or silver or buffalo 
 horn. And there was brought meat of every kind 
 and every sort of liquor that could be named. 
 
 "At the repast no one spoke a word until it was 
 half over; but when the man who sat next to me 
 saw that it would be agreeable for me to converse 
 with him, he began to inquire of me who I was. 
 Then I told the man who I was, and that I was 
 seeking whether any one was superior to me, or 
 whether I could gain the mastery over all. The 
 man looked upon me and smiled, and said, 'If I 
 did not fear to do thee a mischief, I would show 
 thee that which thou seekest.' 
 
 "Upon this I became somewhat anxious and 
 thoughtful, which when the man perceived it he 
 said, 'Sleep here to-night and in the morning arise 
 early, and take the road upward through the valley 
 until thou reachest the wood through which thou 
 earnest hither. A little way within the wood thou 
 wilt come to a large sheltered glade, with a mound 
 in the centre. And on the top of the mound thou 
 wilt see -a black man of great stature, as large as 
 two ordinary men. He has but one foot, and one 
 eye in the middle of his forehead; and in his hand 
 is a club of iron as large as two men could lift. He 
 is the wood-ward of that wood; and around him 
 thou wilt see a thousand wild animals grazing. In- 
 quire of him the way out of the glade, and he will 
 reply to thee briefly, and will point out the road by 
 
 5
 
 Wonfccr Stories 
 
 which thou shall find that which thou art in quest 
 of.' 
 
 "Then we withdrew from the hall and sought our 
 chambers of rest. Long seemed that night to me; 
 but early next morning I arose and equipped my- 
 self, and mounted my horse, and proceeded straight 
 through the valley to the wood, till at length I ar- 
 rived at the glade. The black man was there, sit- 
 ting upon the top of the mound, while around him 
 were many wild animals. Huge of stature as the 
 man had told me he was, indeed I found him to ex- 
 ceed by far the description he had given me. As 
 for the iron club which the man had told me was a 
 burden for two men, I am certain that it would be 
 a heavy weight for four warriors to lift. Then I 
 asked him what power he had over those animals. 
 
 " 'I will show thee, little man,' he said. 
 
 "And he took his club in his hand, and with it 
 he struck a stag a great blow, so that he brayed 
 vehemently; and at his braying the animals came 
 together as numerous as the stars in the sky, so 
 that it was difficult for me to find room in the glade 
 to stand among them. There were serpents, and 
 dragons, and divers sorts of animals wild and 
 fierce. And he looked at them and bade them go 
 and feed; and they bowed their heads, and did him 
 homage as vassals to a lord. 
 
 "Then the black man said to me, 'Seest thou 
 6
 
 fftom tbe n&abino$fon 
 
 now, little man, what power I hold over these ani- 
 mals?' 
 
 "When I saw his power over the animals I asked 
 him the way, desiring to continue my journey. He 
 asked me roughly whither I would go. And when 
 I told him who I was and what I sought, he said to 
 me, Take the path that leads toward the head of 
 the glade, and there thou wilt find an open space 
 like to a large valley, and in the midst of it a tall 
 tree. Under this tree is a fountain, and by the 
 side of the fountain a marble slab, and on the mar- 
 ble slab a silver bowl, fastened by a chain of silver 
 so that it may not be carried away. Take the bowl, 
 and throw a bowlful of water upon the slab. And 
 if thou dost not find trouble in that adventure thou 
 needest not seek it during the rest of thy life.' 
 
 "So I journeyed on until I reached the summit 
 of the steep; and there I found everything as the 
 black man had described it to me. And I went up 
 to the tree, and beneath it I saw the fountain, and 
 by its side the marble slab, and the silver bowl fast- 
 ened by the chain. Then I took the bowl and cast 
 a bowlful of water upon the slab; and immediately 
 I heard a mighty peal of thunder, so that heaven 
 and earth seemed to tremble with its fury. And 
 after the thunder came a shower of hail stones; of 
 a truth it was such a shower as neither man nor 
 beast could endure and live. So I turned my 
 horse's flank toward the shower, and placed the
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 back of my shield over his head and neck, while I 
 held the upper part of it over my own neck. And 
 thus I withstood the shower. 
 
 "And presently the sky became clear; and with 
 that, behold, the birds lighted upon the tree and 
 sang. And truly I never heard any melody equal 
 to that either before or since. And when I was 
 most charmed with listening to the birds, lo! a 
 voice of one approaching was heard saying in chid- 
 ing accents, 'O knight, what has brought thee 
 hither? What evil have I done to thee that thou 
 shouldst act toward me and my possessions as 
 thou hast to-day? Dost thou not know that the 
 shower to-day has left in my dominions neither 
 man nor beast alive that was exposed to it ?' 
 
 "And thereupon, behold, a knight on a black 
 horse appeared, clothed in jet black velvet, and 
 with a tabard of black linen about him. And we 
 charged upon each other, and as the onset was 
 furious, it was not long before I was overthrown. 
 Then the knight passed his lance through the bri- 
 dle rein of my horse, and rode off with the two 
 horses, leaving me alone where I was. So I re- 
 turned on foot along the road by which I had 
 come; and when I reached the glade where the 
 black man was, I confess that I felt to sink to the 
 ground by the shame I felt at the black man's deri- 
 sion. 
 
 "Onward I walked until by night I came to the 
 8
 
 ITrom tbc flDabinogton 
 
 same castle where I had spent the preceding night; 
 and there I was more agreeably entertained than 
 I was the night before. I conversed freely with 
 the inmates of the castle; and none of them alluded 
 to my expedition to the fountain, neither did I 
 mention it to any. When I arose on the morrow, I 
 found ready saddled a dark bay palfrey, with nos- 
 trils as red as scarlet; and after putting on my 
 armor and leaving there my blessing, I returned 
 to my own court. And that horse I still possess, 
 and he is in the stable yonder; and I declare I would 
 not part with him for the best palfrey in the island 
 of Britain. And now of a truth it seems strange 
 to me that neither before nor since have I heard 
 of any person who knew of this adventure; and 
 more strange that the subject of it should exist 
 within King Arthur's dominion without any other 
 person lighting upon it,"
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF OWAIN WITH THE COUNTESS 
 
 AT the story of Sir Kynon they marvelled, 
 and Owain said, "Would it not be well to 
 go and endeavor to discover this place?" 
 To this they all assented, and especially Queen 
 Guinevere. And King Arthur, who had been sleep- 
 ing, now awoke, and also gave his assent to the 
 adventure. Then the horn for washing was 
 sounded, and the king and all his household sat 
 down to eat. And when the meal was ended, 
 Owain withdrew to his lodging and made ready 
 his horse and his arms. 
 
 On the morrow with the dawn of day he put 
 on his armor and mounted his charger and started 
 on his adventure. He rode through many coun- 
 tries until at length he came to a beautiful valley, 
 through which flowed a river with green meadows 
 on either side as Sir Kynon had described. Jour- 
 neying along the valley, by the side of the river, he 
 followed its course till he came to the plain, and 
 then beheld a large and stately castle. As he ap- 
 proached the castle he saw the youths shooting 
 with their arrows in the place where Sir Kynon had 
 
 10
 
 seen them, and the yellow man to whom the castle 
 belonged standing hard by. And no sooner had 
 Owain saluted the yellow man than he was saluted 
 by him in return. 
 
 As he went forward towards the castle he saw 
 within it a chamber, and when he had entered the 
 chamber, he beheld the four and twenty maidens 
 seated in chairs of gold working at satin embroid- 
 ery. And their beauty and their comeliness seemed 
 to Owain far greater than Sir Kynon had repre- 
 sented to him. And they all arose to wait upon 
 Owain as they had done to Sir Kynon. And the 
 meal which they set before him was the most splen- 
 did that ever he had seen. 
 
 About the middle of the feast the yellow man 
 asked Owain the object of his journey. To this 
 Owain replied, "I am in quest of the knight who 
 guards the fountain." Upon this the yellow man 
 smiled, and said that he was as loath to point out 
 that adventure to him as he had been to Sir Kynon. 
 However, he described the whole to Owain, and 
 after that they retired to rest. 
 
 The next morning Owain found his horse made 
 ready for him by the damsels; and he set forward 
 and came to the glade where the black man was. 
 And the stature of the black man seemed more 
 wonderful to Owain than it had done to Kynon; 
 and Owain asked him of his road, and he showed 
 it to him. Owain followed the road, as Kynon 
 
 II
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 had done, until he came to the green tree; and he 
 beheld the fountain and the slab beside the fountain 
 with the bowl upon it. Then Owain took the bowl 
 and threw a bowlful of water upon the slab; and, lo ! 
 the thunder was heard, and after the thunder came 
 the shower, and more violent than Kynon had de- 
 scribed it; and after the shower the sky became 
 bright again. And immediately the birds came 
 and settled on the tree and sang. 
 
 And just when the song of the birds was most 
 pleasing to Owain, he beheld a knight coming 
 toward him through the valley; and he prepared 
 to meet him; and the two knights rode together 
 and encountered with great force. Their lances 
 were both shivered, and then they drew their 
 swords and fought blade to blade. At length 
 Owain struck the knight a blow through the hel- 
 met, head piece and visor, and through the skin 
 and the flesh and the bone, until it wounded the 
 very brain. Then the black knight felt that he 
 had received a mortal wound, upon which he 
 turned his horse's head and fled. And Owain pur- 
 sued him, and followed close upon him, although 
 he was not near enough to him to strike him with 
 his sword. 
 
 Thereupon Owain descried a vast and resplen- 
 dent castle; and they came to the castle gate. And 
 the black knight was allowed to enter; and as 
 Owain followed him the portcullis was let fall, and 
 
 12
 
 from tbe flDaWnoafon 
 
 it struck his horse behind the saddle, and cut him 
 in two, and carried away the rowels of the spurs 
 that were upon Owain's heels. And the portcullis 
 descended to the floor. And the rowels of the 
 spurs and part of the horse were without; and 
 Owain with the other part of the horse remained 
 between the two gates; and the inner gate was 
 closed so that Owain could not go thence; and he 
 was perplexed to know what to do. 
 
 Now while he was in this state it chanced that 
 through an aperture in the gate he saw a street 
 with a row of houses on each side. And as he 
 looked he beheld a maiden, with yellow curling 
 hair, and a frontlet of gold upon her head; and 
 she was clad in a dress of yellow satin, and on her 
 feet were shoes of variegated leather. And she 
 came to the gate and desired that it should be 
 opened. 
 
 "Heaven knows, fair lady," said Owain, "it is no 
 more possible for me to open the gate than it is 
 for thee to set me free." And he told her his name, 
 and who he was. 
 
 "Truly," said the damsel, "it is very sad to see 
 thee in such a state, and I will do what I can to 
 release thee, for I know there is no one more faith- 
 ful in the service of ladies than thou." 
 
 So she passed to him through the aperture a ring, 
 and said, "Take this ring, and put it on thy finger, 
 with the stone inside thy hand, and close thy hand 
 
 '3
 
 TOlonfcer Stories 
 
 upon the stone. So long as thou concealest it, it 
 will conceal thee, and when they come to fetch 
 thee to put thee to death they will not be able to 
 find thee. I will await thee on horseback yonder, 
 and thou wilt be able to see me, though I cannot 
 see thee; therefore come and place thy hand upon 
 my shoulder, that I may know that thou art near 
 me, and by the way that I go hence, do thou ac- 
 company me." 
 
 Then the maiden went away from Owain, and 
 Owain did all as the damsel had told him. And the 
 people of the castle came to seek Owain and to 
 put him to death; and when they found nothing but 
 half of his horse, they were amazed and sorely 
 grieved. But Owain passed out unseen and went 
 to the maiden and put his hand on her shoulder, 
 and she led him to a large and beautiful chamber 
 that was richly adorned with gorgeous colors and 
 images of gold. And the maiden opened the door 
 and they went therein and closed the doors after 
 them. The maiden kindled a fire, and took water 
 in a silver bowl and gave Owain water to wash. 
 Then she placed before him a silver table, inlaid 
 with gold, upon which was a cloth of yellow linen; 
 and she served him with delicious food in vessels 
 of gold and silver, the best he had ever eaten. 
 
 Now while Owain was eating, he heard a great 
 clamor in the castle, and he asked the maiden the 
 cause of it. "The lord of the castle has just died,"
 
 from tbe noabf notion 
 
 she said, "and they are giving him the rites of the 
 dead." 
 
 Then she prepared for him a noble couch upon 
 which he lay down and slept all night. In the 
 morning he was awakened by a loud clamor of 
 wailing, and he asked the maiden the cause of it. 
 "They are bearing the body of the dead lord who 
 owned the castle to the place of burial," said the 
 damsel. 
 
 Then Owain arose and clothed himself and 
 opened a window of the chamber and looked 
 toward the castle. In the street he beheld a vast 
 crowd of armed men and of armed women in red 
 attire, and in the midst of the throng was a bier 
 on which lay the body of the knight he had slain. 
 Behind it walked a lady with long yellow hair that 
 fell over her shoulders, and her dress of yellow 
 satin was all rent; and she smote her hands to- 
 gether and wailed bitterly. She was the fairest 
 lady that Owain had ever seen, and as soon as he 
 beheld her he became inflamed with love for her, 
 so much that it took entire possession of him. 
 Then he inquired of the maiden who the lady was. 
 
 "She is my mistress," replied the maiden, "and 
 she is the fairest and most noble woman that ever 
 was. She is called the Countess of the Fountain; 
 and she is the wife of the knight whom thou didst 
 slay yesterday." 
 
 15
 
 TJdonfcer Stories 
 
 "Verily," said Owain, "she is the woman that 
 I love best in all the world." 
 
 "That is well," said the damsel, "and she shall 
 also love thee not a little in return." 
 
 With that the maiden arose, and kindled a fire, 
 and filled a pot with water and placed it to warm; 
 and she brought a towel of white linen and placed 
 it around Owain's neck; and she took a goblet of 
 ivory and a silver basin, and filled them with warm 
 water, wherewith she washed Owain's head. Then 
 she opened a wooden casket and drew forth a 
 razor whose haft was of ivory, and upon which 
 were two rivets of gold. And she shaved his beard 
 and she dried his head and his throat with the 
 towel. Then she rose up before Owain and 
 brought him to the repast; and after he had eaten 
 she bade him lie on the couch and sleep while she 
 would go and woo the lady for him. 
 
 So she softly shut the door of the chamber and 
 went straightway to the castle of the lady whose 
 lord had been slain. When she came there she 
 found nothing but mourning and sorrow; and the 
 Countess in her chamber could not bear the sight 
 of any one on account of her grief. The damsel, 
 whose name was Luned, and who was a favorite at- 
 tendant of the Countess, went in and saluted her, 
 but the Countess answered her not. And the 
 maiden kneeled before her saying, "What aileth 
 thee that thou answerest no one to-day ?" And the 
 
 16
 
 ffrom tbe 
 
 Countess sharply reproached the maiden for not 
 mourning for her lord as all the rest were doing. 
 
 "Truly," said Luned, "I thought thy good sense 
 was greater than I find it to be. Is it well for thee 
 to mourn for that good man, or for anything else 
 that thou canst not have?" 
 
 "I declare," said the Countess, "that in the whole 
 world there is not a man equal to him." 
 
 "Not so," answered Luned, "for an ill-favored 
 man that is alive, is now as good as or better than 
 a good favored man that is dead." 
 
 At this the Countess was exceedingly wrathful, 
 and declared to Luned that she would banish her 
 from her court. Luned replied that the only cause 
 for her speaking thus was her desire to render her 
 mistress a service of which she stood in need. 
 With that Luned started to go away, affecting 
 great anger. Then the Countess arose and fol- 
 lowed her to the door of the chamber, and began 
 coughing loudly. And when Luned looked back 
 the Countess beckoned to her, and she returned to 
 the Countess. 
 
 Then said the Countess, "In truth evil is thy dis- 
 position; and yet if thou knowest what is to my 
 advantage, declare it to me." 
 
 "That will I," answered Luned. And then she 
 said, "Thou knowest that unless thou canst defend 
 the fountain thou canst not maintain thy do- 
 minions; and no one can defend the fountain except 
 
 '7
 
 Member Stories 
 
 a knight of King Arthur's court. Now will I go 
 thither, and ill betide me if I return not with a 
 warrior who can guard the fountain as well as or 
 better than he who formerly kept it." 
 
 "That will be hard to perform," said the Coun- 
 tess; "but go, however, and make proof of what 
 thou hast promised." 
 
 So Luned went forth under pretence of going to 
 King Arthur's court; but she went back to the 
 chamber where she had left Owain; and she tarried 
 there as long as it would have taken her to go to 
 Caerleon and return. Then she went again to the 
 Countess, who was much rejoiced to see her, and 
 inquired what news she brought from the court. 
 
 "I bring thee the best news," said Luned, "for 
 I have compassed the object of my mission. When 
 wilt thou that I present to you the knight who 
 has come with me hither?" 
 
 "Bring him here to visit me to-morrow at mid- 
 day," said the Countess, "and I will have the people 
 of the town assembled at that time." 
 
 So on the morrow at noon, Luned conducted 
 Owain, all splendidly arayed in satin and gold with 
 golden clasps upon his mantle, to the chamber of 
 the Countess. Right glad was the Countess of 
 their coming; and after gazing upon the knight 
 for awhile she said, "Luned, the knight has not the 
 look of a traveler." 
 
 18
 
 Jtom tbe HDalrinogfon 
 
 f 'What harm is there in that, my lady," replied 
 Luned boldly, as was her wont. 
 
 "I am certain," said the Countess, "that this is 
 the man who chased the soul from the body of my 
 lord." 
 
 "So much the better for thee, lady," returned 
 Luned; "for had he not been stronger than thy lord 
 he could not have slain him. There is no remedy 
 for what is past, be it as it may." 
 
 "Go back to thine abode," said the Countess, 
 "and I will take thy counsel." 
 
 The next day the Countess assembled all the 
 chief men among her subjects, and showed them 
 that her dominions could not be defended except 
 by some knight of great prowess. "Therefore," she 
 said, "if you can choose such an one from among 
 yourselves, let him take me; and if not, give your 
 consent that I should take a husband from else- 
 where to defend my dominions." 
 
 So after much consultation they came to the de- 
 termination that it would be better for the Coun- 
 tess to marry some one from elsewhere; and there- 
 fore she sent for the bishops and archbishops to 
 celebrate her nuptials with Owain. 
 
 Thus Owain became the husband of the Coun- 
 tess, and all the men of the earldom did him hom- 
 age. And Owain defended the fountain with lance 
 and sword against all comers for the space of three 
 years, and no man in the whole world was more be- 
 loved that he was by his subjects. 
 
 19
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 AND now for three years Owain had been 
 missed from King Arthur's court and no 
 one knew where he was. And so it befell 
 that as Gawaine went forth one day with King 
 Arthur, he saw that the king was very sad and 
 sorrowful. Gawaine was much grieved to see the 
 king in this state, and he questioned him saying, 
 "Oh, my lord, what has befallen thee?" 
 
 King Arthur said, "I am grieved concerning 1 
 Owain, whom I have lost for these three years; and 
 if the fourth year shall pass without my seeing him 
 I shall certainly die. Now I am sure that it is 
 through the tale that Kynon related that I have 
 lost Owain." 
 
 To this Gawaine replied, "There is no need for 
 thee to summon to arms thy whole dominion on 
 this account, for thou thyself and the men of thy 
 household will be able to avenge Owain, if he be 
 slain; or to set him free if he be in prison; and, if 
 alive, to bring him back to thee." 
 
 Then King Arthur and the men of his household 
 prepared to go and seek for Owain; and Kynon, 
 
 20
 
 fftom tbe nDabinogton 
 
 the son of Clydno, acted as their guide. Soon they 
 came to the castle where Kynon had been before; 
 and there they saw the youths shooting in the 
 same place, and the yellow man standing hard by. 
 When the yellow man saw King Arthur and his 
 knights he invited them into the castle; and they all 
 entered the castle together. And so vast was the 
 extent of the castle that the presence of King Ar- 
 thur and his retinue was scarcely observed. And 
 the twenty-four damsels rose up and waited upon 
 them and their retinue, and their attendance was 
 the best that had ever been seen by them. Even 
 the pages who had charge of the horses were no 
 worse served that night than King Arthur himself 
 would have been in his own palace. 
 
 The next morning King Arthur and his knights 
 set out thence and came to the place where the 
 black man was; and the stature of the black man 
 was more surprising to the King than it had been 
 represented to him. And going forward they came 
 to the top of the wooded steep, and traversed the 
 valley till they reached the green tree, where they 
 saw the fountain and the bowl and the slab. 
 
 Upon this Sir Kay came to King Arthur and 
 spake to him, saying, "My lord, I know the mean- 
 ing of all this; and my request is that thou wilt 
 permit me to throw the water on the slab, and to 
 receive the first adventure that may befall." And 
 King Arthur gave him leave. 
 
 21
 
 Wlcmfcer Stories 
 
 Then Sir Kay threw a bowlful of water upon the 
 slab, and immediately there came the thunder, and 
 after the thunder the shower; and such a thunder 
 storm they had never known before, and many of 
 the attendants who were in Arthur's train were 
 killed by the shower. After the shower had ceased, 
 the sky became clear, and on looking at the tree, 
 they beheld that it was completely leafless. Then 
 the birds descended upon the tree; and the song 
 of the birds was far sweeter than any strain they 
 had ever heard before. And anon they beheld a 
 knight on a coal black horse, clothed in black satin, 
 coming rapidly towards them. Then Sir Kay, as 
 he had desired, rode to meet him; and it was not 
 long before Sir Kay was overthrown. After which 
 the knight withdrew, and King Arthur and his 
 host encamped for the night. 
 
 When they arose in the morning they perceived 
 the signal of combat upon the lance of the knight. 
 And Sir Kay came to King Arthur and spoke to 
 him, saying: "My lord, though I was overthrown 
 yesterday, if it seem good to thee I would gladly 
 meet the knight again to-day." 
 
 "You may do so," said King Arthur, "if you de- 
 sire." 
 
 Then Sir Kay went towards the knight, and the 
 knight struck him on the forehead with the head 
 of his lance, to that it broke his helmet and the 
 headpiece, and pierced the skin and the flesh even 
 
 22
 
 from tbe nDabinooton 
 
 to the bone. At which Sir Kay returned to his 
 companions. 
 
 Then, one by one, all the household of King Ar- 
 thur went forth to combat the knight, until there 
 was not one that was not overthrown by him, ex- 
 cept King Arthur and Gawaine. And Arthur 
 armed himself to encounter the knight; but Ga- 
 waine said, "Oh, my lord, permit me to fight with 
 him first." And Arthur permitted him. 
 
 So Gawaine went forth to meet the knight, hav- 
 ing over himself and his horse a satin robe of honor, 
 which had been sent him by the daughter of the 
 Earl of Rhangyw, and in this dress he was not 
 known by any of the host. The two knights 
 charged each other, and fought all that day until 
 evening; and neither was able to unhorse the other. 
 And so it was the next day; they broke their lances 
 in the shock, but neither of them could obtain the 
 mastery. 
 
 And the third day they fought with exceeding 
 strong lances; and they were filled with rage and 
 fought furiously even until noon. And at last they 
 gave each other such a shock that the girths of 
 their horses were broken, so that they fell over 
 their horses' cruppers to the ground. Rising up 
 speedily they drew their swords, and resumed the 
 combat on foot. And all they that witnessed the 
 encounter felt assured that they had never before 
 seen two men so valiant or so powerful. And so 
 
 23
 
 Monger Stories 
 
 strong were their strokes that had it been midnight 
 it would have been light from the fire that flashed 
 from their weapons. 
 
 Now as they fought the knight gave Gawaine 
 a blow that turned his helmet from off his face, so 
 that the knight saw that it was Gawaine. Then 
 Owain said, for the knight was Sir Owain : 
 
 "My lord, Gawaine, I did not know thee for my 
 cousin, owing to the robe of honor that enveloped 
 thee; take my sword and my arms." 
 
 But Gawaine replied, "Thou art the victor, brave 
 Owain; take thou my sword." 
 
 With that King Arthur saw that they were con- 
 versing, and advanced toward them. And Ga- 
 waine said, 
 
 "My lord, King Arthur, here is Owain who has 
 vanquished me and will not take my arms." 
 
 To this Owain replied, "My lord, it is he that 
 hath vanquished me, and he will not take my 
 sword." 
 
 "Give me your swords," said King Arthur, "and 
 then neither of you has vanquished the other." 
 
 At this Owain put his arms around King Ar- 
 thur's neck, and they embraced; and all the host 
 hurried forward to see Owain, and to embrace him. 
 And there was nigh being a loss of life, so great 
 was the press. 
 
 On the morrow King Arthur made ready to de- 
 part; but Owain said, "My lord, this is not well for 
 
 24
 
 Utom tbe 
 
 thee, for I have been absent from thee these three 
 years, and during all that time I have been pre- 
 paring a banquet for thee, knowing that thou 
 wouldst come to seek me. Tarry with me there- 
 fore until both you and your attendants have re- 
 covered from the journey, and have been 
 anointed." 
 
 So they all proceeded to the castle of the Coun- 
 tess of the Fountain, and the banquet that had 
 been three years preparing was consumed in three 
 months. Never had there been a more delicious or 
 more agreeable banquet. And when King Arthur 
 was ready to depart, he sent an embassy to the 
 Countess to beseech her to permit Owain to go 
 with him, for the space of three months, that he 
 might show him to the nobles and fair dames of 
 the Island of Britain. And the Countess gave her 
 consent, though it was very painful to her. So 
 Owain came to the Island of Britain. And when 
 he was once more with his kindred and friends, he 
 remained with them three years instead of three 
 months. 
 
 Now one day as Owain sat at meat, in the palace 
 of the king at Caerleon, there came a damsel rid- 
 ing into the hall upon a bay horse with a curling 
 mane, and covered with foam; and the bridle and 
 as much as was seen of the saddle was of gold. 
 The damsel was richly arrayed in a robe of yellow 
 satin. As they all looked upon her surprised, she 
 
 25
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 came up to Owain, and took the ring from off his 
 hand, saying, 
 
 "Thus shall be treated the deceiver, the traitor, 
 the faithless, the disgraced, and the beardless." 
 Then she turned her horse's head and departed. 
 
 At this Owain suddenly remembered the Coun- 
 tess and how he had deserted her; and his mind 
 was so filled with shame and sorrow that he well 
 nigh lost his reason. The next day he did not go 
 to court, nor did he return to the Countess, but 
 wandered into wild and desert places, and there re- 
 mained until his apparel was worn out, and his 
 hair and beard grew long, and his body was sore 
 wasted. And he went about with the wild beasts 
 and fed them until they learned to know him and 
 became familiar with him. But at length he be- 
 came so weak that he could no longer bear their 
 company. Then he descended from the mountains 
 to the valley and came to a park that was the fair- 
 est in the world, and belonged to the Countess 
 whom he had deserted. And he was so weak that 
 he lay down by a small lake and soon became in- 
 sensible. 
 
 One day the Countess came forth with her 
 maidens to walk by the lake that was in the middle 
 of the park. As they came near the lake they saw 
 the form of a man lying as if dead; and they were 
 terrified. At length they went near him and 
 touched him, and saw there was life in him, though 
 
 26
 
 Ifrom tfoe flDabinogion 
 
 he was unconscious. The Countess returned to the 
 castle and took a flask full of precious ointment, 
 and gave it to one of her handmaidens, saying, "Go 
 with this, and take with thee yonder horse and 
 clothing, and place them near the man we saw just 
 now; and anoint him with this balsam near his 
 heart; and if there is life in him he will revive. Then 
 watch what he will do." 
 
 The maiden obeyed and went and poured the 
 balsam upon Owain, and left the horse and the gar- 
 ments hard by, and then went a little way off, and 
 hid herself to watch him. In a short time she saw 
 him begin to move; and he rose up and looked at 
 his person, and became ashamed at the unseemli- 
 ness of his appearance. So he clothed himself with 
 the garments that were near him, and with diffi- 
 culty mounted the horse. 
 
 Then the damsel came forward and saluted him, 
 and he asked her, "What land is this?" 
 
 "Truly," she said, "it belongs to a widowed 
 Countess. At the death of her husband she had 
 two earldoms, but now this park and castle are all 
 that are left to her, the rest having been taken 
 away from her by a young earl, her neighbor, be- 
 cause she refused to become his wife." 
 
 "That is a pity," said Owain. 
 
 Then the maiden led him to the castle, and took 
 him to a pleasant chamber, and kindled a fire and 
 
 27
 
 TWlon&er Storied 
 
 left him. The maiden then came to the Countess, 
 and gave the flask into her hand. 
 
 "Ha, maiden," said the Countess, "where is all 
 the balsam?" 
 
 "Have I not used it all ?" answered the maiden. 
 
 "Oh, maiden !" said the Countess, "I cannot eas- 
 ily forgive thee this. It is sad for me to have 
 wasted full seven pounds of precious ointment 
 upon a stranger whom I know not. However, 
 maiden, wait thou upon him until he is quite recov- 
 ered." 
 
 The maiden did as she was bidden and furnished 
 him with meat and drink and fire and lodging and 
 medicine until he was well again. And in three 
 months he was restored to his former guise, and 
 became even more comely than he had ever been 
 before. 
 
 One day Owain heard a great tumult and a 
 sound of arms in the castle, and he inquired of the 
 maiden the cause thereof. "The Earl," said she, 
 "whom I mentioned to thee, has come before the 
 castle with a numerous army, to subdue the Coun- 
 tess." 
 
 Hearing this, Owain inquired of her whether the 
 Countess had a horse and arms in her possession. 
 "She has the best in the world," said the maiden. 
 
 "Wilt thou go and request of her the loan of a 
 horse and arms for me," said Owain, "that I may 
 go and look at this army?" 
 
 28
 
 fftom tbe flDaWnooion 
 
 "I will," replied the maiden, "willingly." 
 
 So she came to the Countess and told her what 
 Owain had said. And the Countess laughed. 
 "Truly," she said, "I will give him a horse and 
 arms forever such a horse and such arms as he 
 never had before. And I am glad that they should 
 be taken by him to-day, lest my enemies should 
 have them against my will to-morrow. Yet I know 
 not what he will do with them." 
 
 Then the Countess bade them bring out a beau- 
 tiful black steed upon which was a beechen saddle, 
 and a suit of armor for man and horse. Then 
 Owain armed himself and mounted the horse, and 
 went forth attended by two pages completely 
 equipped with horses and arms. When he came 
 near to the earl's army he could see neither its ex- 
 tent nor its extremity, so large it was. 
 
 Then said Owain to the pages, "In which troop 
 is the earl?" 
 
 "In yonder troop," they said, "in which are four 
 yellow standards; two of them are before and two 
 of them are behind him." 
 
 "Now," said Owain, "do you return, and await 
 me near the portal of the castle." 
 
 So they returned and Owain pressed forward 
 until he met the earl. And Owain fell upon him, 
 and dragged him out of the saddle, and carried him 
 off, in spite of all the efforts of his knights, to the 
 castle. And Owain took him to the Countess, and 
 
 29
 
 TOonfcer 5torie0 
 
 threw him down before her saying, "Behold, here 
 is a gift of requital for thy precious balsam." 
 
 Finding himself thus a prisoner in the castle, the 
 earl, as a ransom for his life, restored to the Coun- 
 tess the two earldoms that he had taken from her; 
 and for his freedom he gave her half of his own do- 
 minions, and all his gold and his silver and his 
 jewels, besides hostages. 
 
 And after this Owain made ready to take his 
 departure; and though the Countess and all her 
 subjects besought him to remain, he chose rather 
 to wander through distant lands and deserts.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 OWAIN AGAIN FINDS THE COUNTESS 
 
 AS Owain rode he heard a loud yelling in a 
 wood, which was repeated a second and 
 a third time. Going towards the spot 
 whence the sound proceeded he came to a huge 
 craggy mound in the middle of the wood, on the 
 side of which was a gray rock. There was a deep 
 cleft in the rock, and a serpent lay within the cleft. 
 And near the rock stood a black lion; and every 
 time the lion sought to go thence the serpent 
 darted towards him to attack him. 
 
 As Owain looked upon the scene, he unsheathed 
 his sword and drew near the rock; and, as the ser- 
 pent sprang out to attack him, he struck it with 
 his sword and cut it in two. Then he dried his 
 sword and went on his way as before. And, be- 
 hold, the lion followed him and played about him 
 as though it had been a greyhound that he had 
 reared. 
 
 Thus they journeyed on together until evening. 
 And when it was time for Owain to take his repast, 
 he dismounted and turned his horse loose to graze 
 on a flat and wooded meadow. And he kindled a 
 
 31
 
 Monger Stories 
 
 fire, and the lion brought him fuel enough to last 
 for three nights. Then the lion disappeared; but 
 presently returned with a large roebuck which he 
 threw down before Owain. Being hungry Owain 
 roasted some of the flesh of the roebuck for him- 
 self, and the rest of it he gave to the lion. 
 
 While he was eating, he heard a deep sigh that 
 seemed to come from within a rock near at hand. 
 Going near the rock and seeing no one he called 
 out to know who it was that groaned so piteously. 
 A voice answered, 
 
 "I am Luned, the handmaiden of the Countess 
 of the Fountain. I am imprisoned here on ac- 
 count of the knight that came from King Arthur's 
 court and married the Countess. He was the 
 friend I loved most in the world; and after he had 
 departed, two of the knights of the court traduced 
 him, and called him a deceiver. And because I 
 said that I would vouch for him that he would come 
 before long and maintain his cause against both of 
 them, they imprisoned me in this cave, and said 
 that I should be put to death, unless he came to 
 deliver me by a certain day. That day is no fur- 
 ther off than to-morrow; and I have no one to send 
 to seek him for me. His name is Owain, the son 
 of Urien." 
 
 "Art thou certain that if the knight knew all 
 this, he would come to thy rescue?" asked Owain. 
 
 "I am most certain of it," she replied. 
 
 32
 
 from tbe flDabinogion 
 
 Then Owain divided the supper he was eating 
 into two parts, one for himself and the other for 
 the maiden, and then laid himself down to sleep; 
 and never did sentinel keep stricter watch over his 
 lord than did the lion that night over Owain. 
 
 In the morning Owain asked the damsel if there 
 were any places near where he could get lodging; 
 so she directed hixn to an earl's castle. "Cross 
 over yonder and go along the river side, and in a 
 short time thou wilt see a great castle, with many 
 towers. The earl who owns the castle is the most 
 hospitable man in the world. There thou mayst 
 spend the night." 
 
 So Owain mounted his horse and passed across 
 by the ford, and soon came in sight of the castle. 
 And he entered it and was well received by the earl 
 and his people. The lion went with him and lay 
 down in the horse's manger, so that none of the 
 people of the castle dared to approach him. 
 
 Soon they went to meat; and the earl sat upon 
 one side of Owain, and on the other side sat his 
 only daughter. And Owain thought he had never 
 seen any maiden more lovely than she. Then the 
 lion came and placed himself between Owain's 
 feet, and he fed him with every kind of food that 
 he took himself. And as he conversed with the 
 earl he thought he never saw anything equal to 
 the sadness of the people. 
 
 In the middle of the repast the earl began to bid 
 
 33
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 Owain welcome. Then said Owain, "Behold, it is 
 time for thee to be cheerful." 
 
 "Heaven knows," said the earl, "that it is not 
 thy coming that makes us sorrowful; but we have 
 cause enough for sadness and care." 
 
 "What is the cause of this sadness?" said Owain. 
 
 "1 have two sons," said the earl, "and yesterday 
 they went to the mountains to hunt. Now there 
 is on the mountain a monster who kills men and 
 devours them; and he seized my sons. And to- 
 morrow is the time he has fixed to be here and he 
 threatens that he will slay my sons before my eyes 
 unless I will deliver into his hands my daughter." 
 
 "Truly," said Owain, "that is very sad. But 
 what wilt thou do?" 
 
 "Heaven knows," said the earl, "it will be bet- 
 ter that my sons should be slain against my will 
 than that I should give up my daughter to him to 
 ill-treat and destroy." 
 
 After which they talked about many other things 
 until it was time to retire; and Owain remained in 
 the castle over night. As he thought upon what 
 the earl had told him he resolved that he would 
 meet the giant and deliver the two youths and thus 
 save the maiden from her ill fate. 
 
 Early the next morning there was a great clamor, 
 caused by the coming of the giant with the two 
 youths. Awakened by the noise, Owain arose and 
 after the morning meal, put on his armor, and 
 
 34
 
 ffrom the 
 
 went forth to encounter the giant; and his lion 
 went with him. When the giant saw that Owain 
 was armed, he rushed fiercely upon him; upon 
 which the lion sprang upon the giant and fought 
 against him even more strongly than Owain did. 
 
 "Truly," said the giant, "I could deal easily with 
 thee were it not for this lion that is with thee." 
 
 Upon that Owain took the lion back to the cas- 
 tle, and shut the gate upon him, and then returned 
 to fight the giant as before. The lion roared furi- 
 ously, and climbed up till he got to the top of the 
 castle, and then sprang down from the wall, and 
 rushed again upon the giant, giving him a stroke 
 with his paw that tore him from the shoulder to 
 the hip, so that he fell down dead. Then Owain 
 took the two youths and restored them to their 
 father. 
 
 The earl, full of gratitude for the rescue of his 
 sons, besought Owain to remain with him, but he 
 would not wait; and set forth immediately to the 
 place where Luned was imprisoned in the stone 
 vault. When he came there he found a great fire 
 kindled; and two youths with curly locks were 
 leading the maiden to cast her into the fire. Owain 
 asked them what charge they had against her. And 
 they told him of the compact that was between 
 them, as the maiden had done the night before. 
 
 "Owain," they said, "has failed her, and now we 
 are taking her to be burnt." 
 
 35
 
 TJdonfcer Stories 
 
 "Truly," said Owain, "he is a good knight, and 
 if he knew that the maiden was in such peril, I 
 marvel that he came not to her rescue. But if you 
 will accept me in his stead, I will do battle with 
 you." 
 
 "That we will," replied the youth, "most will- 
 ingly, for thou seemest to be a goodly knight." 
 
 Then they rushed upon Owain, and he was hard 
 beset by them. And with that the lion came to 
 Owain's assistance, and they two got the better of 
 the young men. When they saw they were being 
 worsted in the fight, they said to him, "Chieftain, 
 it was not agreed that we should fight save with 
 thyself alone, and it is harder for us to contend 
 with yonder animal than with thee." 
 
 At this Owain took the lion and put him in the 
 place where Luned had been imprisoned, and 
 blocked up the door with stones; and then went 
 to fight with the young men as before. But Owain 
 had not his usual strength, and the young men 
 pressed hard upon him and would have slain him. 
 As they thus fought the lion roared incessantly at 
 seeing Owain in trouble, and he pressed against 
 the wall until he found a way out, and rushed upon 
 the young men and instantly slew them. So Luned 
 was saved from being burned to death. 
 
 Then Owain took Luned from the cave and re- 
 turned with her to the castle of the Lady of the 
 Fountain. And when the lady saw him she recog- 
 
 36
 
 from tbe fiDalnnogion 
 
 nized him as her lord, and she rushed into his arms, 
 and each embraced the other, so glad were they to 
 meet again. Owain told her of all his adventures 
 and begged her to forgive him for his long ab- 
 sence, and this she readily consented to do. And 
 when Owain again went thence to visit King Ar- 
 thur's court, he took the Countess with him, and 
 there they lived for many years in great happiness 
 and renown. 
 
 And this is the tale of the Lady of the Fountain. 
 
 This Is a tale of knightly deeds very similar to those 
 of the Knights of King Arthur, though a little more ex- 
 travagant than any which Malory relates. Several of the 
 characters are the same as in Malory's book, with the 
 Bame personal characteristics, all indicating a common 
 origin of these stories with the Arthurian tales. 
 
 Lady Guest says that "Amongst all the characters of 
 ancient British history, none is more interesting, or oc- 
 cupies a more conspicuous place than (Owain) the hero 
 of this tale." She also says that "The story of Owain 
 and the Lady of the Fountain was very popular in the 
 days of Chivalry, and we meet it in many European 
 languages besides the Welsh." 
 
 37
 
 Cl) 
 
 9)oto i&ittoci) 
 
 LONG time ago in Wales there was a 
 youth named Kilwch. His mother had 
 died when he was a boy, and in time his 
 father married again, and his step-mother having 
 children of her own had not given him the love 
 of a mother. As he grew older he was very hand- 
 some and his step-mother was jealous of his beauty 
 and longed to get rid of him. One day she went 
 to him and said, "It is time for thee to be thinking 
 about a wife, and it has been revealed to me that 
 thou never wilt be suited with a wife until thou 
 obtain Olwen, the daughter of Yspaddaden Pen- 
 kawr." 
 
 At this the youth blushed, for he had never 
 thought about having a wife. But as he dwelt upon 
 the matter his heart grew warm and the love of the 
 maiden diffused itself through all his frame, al- 
 though he had never seen her nor heard of her be- 
 fore. His father noticing the change in his spirits, 
 said, "What has come over thee, my son, and what 
 is it that aileth thee?" 
 
 38
 
 from tbe flDabinogion 
 
 "My step-mother," he replied, "has declared to 
 me that it is time for me to have a wife, and that I 
 shall never have one until I obtain Olwen, the 
 daughter of Yspaddaden Penkawr." 
 
 "That will be easy for thee," answered his father. 
 "King Arthur is thy cousin and will aid thee in the 
 matter; go, therefore, unto Arthur and have him 
 cut thy hair and then ask this of him as a boon." 
 
 So the youth took a steed, firm of limb, with head 
 of dappled gray and shell formed hoofs, having a 
 bridle of linked gold on his head and a saddle of 
 costly gold upon his back. In his hand he bore two 
 spears of silver, sharp, well-tempered and headed 
 with steel, and of an edge to wound even the wind 
 and cause the blood to flow as soft as the fall of 
 the dew-drops from the blades of reed-grass upon 
 the earth when the dew of June is at the heaviest. 
 A gold-hilted sword was upon his thigh, the blade 
 of which was of gold, bearing a cross of inlaid gold 
 of the hue of the lightning of heaven. 
 
 As he rode there went before him two brindled 
 white-breasted greyhounds, having strong collars 
 of rubies about their necks reaching from the 
 shoulder to the ear. And the one that was on the 
 left side kept bounding across to the right side, 
 and the one one the right side to the left, sporting 
 thus around him like two sea swallows. His courser 
 was so proud of step that he cast up four sods with 
 his four hoofs, which like four swallows in the air 
 
 39
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 flew about his head. About him was a four-cor- 
 nered cloth of purple with an apple of gold at each 
 corner, and every one of the apples was of the value 
 of an hundred kine. And there was precious gold 
 of the value of three hundred kine upon his shoes, 
 and upon his stirrups and from his knee to the tip 
 of his toe. And so light at times was his courser's 
 tread that the blades of grass bent not beneath 
 him, as he journeyed towards the gate of King Ar- 
 thur's palace. 
 
 When the youth reached King Arthur's palace 
 he inquired at the gate of the palace of a man who 
 stood there, saying, "Is there a porter here?" 
 
 "There is," said the man; "and if thou holdest 
 not thy peace, small will be thy welcome. I am 
 Arthur's porter every first day of January; and 
 during every other day of the year the office is 
 filled by others, one of whom goes upon his head 
 to save his feet, like a rolling stone upon the floor 
 of the court. 
 
 "Open the portal, then, if thou art the porter," 
 said Kilwch. 
 
 "I will not open it," replied the porter. 
 
 "Wherefore wilt thou not?" inquired the youth. 
 
 "The knife is in the meat, and the drink is in 
 the horn, and there is revelry in Arthur's hall; and 
 none may enter therein, but the son of a king of a 
 privileged country, or a craftsman bringing his 
 craft." 
 
 To this the youth replied, "That will I not do 
 40
 
 jfrom tbe flDaWnogion 
 
 for I am no craftsman. If thou openest the gate, 
 it is well, but if thou dost not open it, I will bring 
 disgrace upon thy lord and evil report upon thee. 
 And I will set up three shouts at this very gate, 
 than which none were ever more deadly." 
 
 "What clamor soever thou mayest make," said 
 the porter, "against the laws of King Arthur's pal- 
 ace, thou shalt not enter therein, until I first go 
 and speak with him." 
 
 Then the porter went into the hall; and King 
 Arthur said to him, "Hast thou any news from the 
 gate?" 
 
 "Half of my life is past, and I have seen many 
 noble sovereigns and many handsome men; but 
 never did I behold a man of equal grace and dig- 
 nity to him who is now at the portal of the gate." 
 
 Then said King Arthur, "If thou didst enter here 
 walking, return thou running, and let him enter. 
 It is unbecoming to keep such a man as thou sayest 
 he is waiting at the gate in the wind and the rain." 
 
 Then up spake Kay, the King's chief counsellor, 
 saying, "By the hand of my friend, if thou wouldst 
 follow my counsel, thou wouldst not break through 
 the laws of thy court because of him." 
 
 "Not so, blessed Kay," said King Arthur. "It 
 is an honor to us to be resorted to; and the greater 
 our courtesy the greater will be our renown, and 
 our fame, and our glory." 
 
 Then the porter returned to the gate, and opened 
 it, and the youth rode through with his horse, and 
 
 41
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 even into the hall where Arthur was. Stopping be- 
 fore the King he said with great courtesy, "Greet- 
 ing be unto thee, sovereign ruler of this island; and 
 be this greeting no less unto the lowest than unto 
 the highest." 
 
 "Greeting unto thee, also," said King Arthur. 
 "Sit thou between two of my warriors; and thou 
 shalt have minstrels before thee, and thou shalt 
 enjoy the privilege of a king born to a throne, as 
 long as thou remainest here." 
 
 "I came not here to consume meat and drink," 
 said the youth, "but, if I obtain the boon that I 
 seek, I will requite it to thee and extol thee. And 
 if I have it not, I will bear forth thy dispraise to the 
 four quarters of the world, even as far as thy re- 
 nown has extended." 
 
 At this King Arthur said, "Since thou wilt not 
 remain here, chieftain, thou shalt receive the boon 
 whatsoever thy tongue may name; save only my 
 ship, or my mantle, or my sword, or my lance, or 
 my shield, or my dagger, or my wife. Besides 
 these, name what thou wilt." 
 
 "I would," the youth replied, "that first thou 
 bless my hair." 
 
 "That will I gladly do," said King Arthur. 
 
 So Arthur took a golden comb and scissors 
 whose loops were made of silver, and he combed 
 and cut the youth's hair. Then King Arthur in- 
 quired of him who he was. "For," he said, "my 
 heart warms unto thee, and I know that thou art 
 
 42
 
 from tbe flDabinogion 
 
 come of my blood. Tell me, therefore, who thou 
 art." 
 
 "I will tell thee," said the youth, "I am Kilwch, 
 the son of Kilydd, the son of Prince Kelyddon and 
 Goleuddydd, the daughter of Prince Anlawdd." 
 
 "That is true," said King Arthur. "Thou art 
 my cousin and my heart goes out to thee in friend- 
 ship. Whatsoever boon thou mayst ask, thou shalt 
 receive, be it what it may that thy tongue shall 
 name." 
 
 "I crave of thee, then," the youth replied, "that 
 thou obtain for me Olwen, the daughter of Pen- 
 kawr for my wife, and this boon I would seek at 
 the hands of thy warriors." 
 
 Then said King Arthur, "O chieftain! I have 
 never heard of the maiden of whom thou speakest, 
 nor of her kindred; but I will gladly send mes- 
 sengers in search of her. Give me time to seek 
 her." 
 
 "I will willingly grant thee from this night to 
 that of the end of the year for you to do so," the 
 youth replied. 
 
 Then King Arthur sent messengers to every 
 land within his dominions to seek for the maiden; 
 and at the end of the year the messengers returned 
 without having gained any knowledge or intelli- 
 gence concerning Olwen, more than on the first 
 day. 
 
 When they told Kilwch of this he said, "Every 
 
 43
 
 TOonfcer Storied 
 
 one has received his boon, and yet I lack mine. I 
 will depart and bear away thy honor with me !" 
 
 At this Kay spoke up quickly, saying, "Rash 
 chieftain! dost thou reproach King Arthur? Go 
 with us, and we shall not part until thou dost con- 
 fess that the maiden exists not in the world, or un- 
 til we obtain her." Thereupon Kay rose up and 
 made ready to go in search of the maiden Olwen. 
 Now Kay was one of the most wonderful war- 
 riors in the world. He had this peculiarity, that 
 his breath would last nine days and nine nights un- 
 der water, and he could exist nine days and nine 
 nights without sleep or food. Also a wound from 
 Kay's sword no physician could heal, so that every 
 one who was wounded by it died. When it pleased 
 him he could render himself as tall as the highest 
 tree in the forest. And so great was the heat of 
 his body that when it rained the hardest, whatever 
 he carried remained dry for a hand breath above 
 and a hand breath below his hand; and when his 
 companions were coldest this heat was to them as 
 fuel with which to light their fire. 
 
 ' As they thus made ready for their journey King 
 Arthur called Bedwyr, who never shrank from any 
 enterprise upon which Kay was bound. None was 
 equal to him in swiftness throughout the island, ex- 
 cept King Arthur himself and a knight called 
 Drych Ail Kibddar. And although he had but a 
 single hand, three warriors could not shed blood 
 faster on the field of battle than he. And besides 
 
 44
 
 JFvom tbe ffcabinocjicm 
 
 this, his lance would produce a wound equal to 
 those of nine opposing lances. 
 
 King Arthur also called to Kynddelig, the guide, 
 saying, "Go thou upon this expedition with the 
 chieftain." For as good a guide was he in a land 
 which he had never seen as he was in his own. 
 
 Besides him he called two other guides, the 
 one, a linguist, who knew all tongues that were 
 spoken, the other a magician who could cast a 
 charm and an illusion over people so that none 
 might see them, whilst they could see every one. 
 
 When all was ready they started and traveled 
 until they came to a vast, open plain, and in this 
 plain they saw a great castle, which seemed to 
 them the fairest of all the castles in the world. 
 They journeyed that day until the evening; and 
 when they thought they were nigh to the castle, 
 they were seemingly no nearer to it than they had 
 been in the morning. And the second and the 
 third day they journeyed, and at length they found 
 themselves drawing near to the castle. 
 
 When they came to the castle, they beheld a 
 vast flock of sheep, which so far as they could see 
 was boundless and without end. And upon the 
 top of a high mound there was an herdsman keep- 
 ing the sheep. He was clothed with a rug made 
 of skins and by his side was a shaggy mastiff, larger 
 than a steed nine winters old. So faithful was this 
 mastiff that never had the man lost a lamb from 
 his flock, much less a large sheep. He was a 
 
 45
 
 Monger Stories 
 
 wicked man, however, and let no occasion pass 
 without doing some hurt and harm. All the dead 
 trees and bushes in the plain he burnt with his 
 breath down to the very ground. 
 
 As they stood looking at the man Kay said to 
 one of the guides, "Go thou and salute yonder 
 man." 
 
 But the guide replied, "Kay, I engaged to go no 
 further than thou thyself." 
 
 "Let us then all go together," said Kay. 
 
 "Fear not," said the magician, "to go thither, 
 for I will cast a spell upon the dog, so that he shall 
 injure no one." 
 
 So they went up to the mound whereon the 
 herdsman sat, and they said to him, "Whose are 
 the sheep that thou dost keep? And to whom does 
 yonder castle belong?" 
 
 "Stupid are ye, truly," the man replied. "For 
 through the whole world is it known that this is 
 the castle of Yspaddaden Penkawr." 
 
 "And who art thou?" they asked him. 
 
 "I am called Custennin, the son of Dyfnedig; and 
 my brother Yspaddaden Penkawr opposed me 
 because of my possessions and hath taken them 
 from me. And ye, also, who are ye?" 
 
 "We are an embassy from King Arthur, come 
 to seek Olwen, the daughter of Yspaddaden Pen- 
 hawr." 
 
 "O ! men !" the man exclaimed, "the mercy of 
 heaven be upon you! Do not that for all the 
 
 46
 
 world; for none who ever came hither on this 
 quest has returned alive." 
 
 So saying the herdsman rose up, and as he did 
 so Kilwch gave unto him a ring of gold. As he 
 sought to put on the ring, he found it was too 
 small for him, so he placed it on the finger of his 
 glove. Then he went home, and gave the glove to 
 his spouse to keep. Taking the ring from the 
 glove she said: 
 
 "Whence came this ring? For thoit art not 
 wont to have good fortune like this." 
 
 "I went," said he, "to the sea to seek for fish, 
 and, lo, I saw a dead body borne upon the waves. 
 And a fairer corpse than it did I never behold. 
 And from its finger did I take this ring." 
 
 "O man!" said she, "does the sea permit its 
 dead to wear jewels? Show me, then, this body." 
 
 "O wife!" he answered, "forgive me for what 
 I have just said; but indeed him to whom this ring 
 belonged thou shalt see here in the evening." 
 
 "And who is he?" asked the woman. 
 
 "Kilwch, the son of Kilydd, who has come to 
 seek Olwen for his wife." 
 
 When she heard that, her feelings were divided 
 between the joy that she had that her nephew, the 
 son of her sister, was coming to her, and sorrow, 
 because she had never known any one to depart 
 alive who had come on that quest. 
 
 Meanwhile Kilwch and his companions rode for- 
 ward to the gate of Custennin, the herdsman's 
 
 47
 
 Member Stories 
 
 dwelling. And, when she heard their footsteps ap- 
 proaching, she ran out with joy to greet them. 
 
 And when she met them she sought to throw 
 her arms about their necks. But Kay snatched a 
 billet out of a pile of wood and placed it between 
 her two hands, and so strong was she that she 
 squeezed it so hard that it became a twisted coil. 
 
 "Oh, woman !" said Kay, "if thou hadst squeezed 
 me thus none could ever again have set their af- 
 fections on me. Such tokens of thy love would do 
 thy friends much harm." 
 
 Then they entered into the house, and were 
 served with meat and wine, and after that they all 
 went forth to amuse themselves. As they all sat 
 feasting the woman opened a stone chest that was 
 before the chimney corner, and out of it arose a 
 youth with yellow curling hair. At this they were 
 all amazed and one of them said, "It is a pity to 
 keep this youth shut up in a chest. I am sure it 
 is not his own crime that is visited upon him." 
 
 "This is but a remnant of my children," said the 
 woman. "Three and twenty of my sons has 
 Yspaddaden Penkawr slain, and I have no more 
 hope of this one than of the others and thus I con- 
 ceal him in this chest." 
 
 Then Kay said, "Let him come to be a com- 
 panion with me, and he shall not be slain unless 
 I also am slain with him." To this she agreed, and 
 the young man became the companion of Kay. 
 
 48
 
 fftom tbe fftabinogion 
 
 After the meal was over the woman asked them, 
 saying, "Upon what errand came you here ?" 
 
 "We came to seek Olwen for this youth," they 
 replied. 
 
 "Then," said the woman, "in the name of 
 Heaven, since no one of this castle hath yet seen 
 you, return again whence you came." 
 
 "Heaven is our witness that we shall not return 
 until we have seen the maiden," they replied. 
 
 "Does she ever come hither," inquired Kay, "so 
 that she may be seen?" 
 
 "She comes here every Saturday to wash her 
 head; and in the vessel where she washes, she 
 leaves all her rings, and she never either comes 
 herself, or sends any messengers, to fetch them." 
 
 "Will she come here if she is sent for?" inquired 
 Kay. 
 
 "Heaven knows that I will not destroy my soul, 
 nor will I betray those that trust me. Unless you 
 will pledge me your faith that you will not harm 
 her, I will not send for her." 
 
 "We pledge it," they said. 
 
 So a message was sent; and the maiden soon 
 came before them. She was clothed in a robe of 
 flame-colored silk, and about her neck was a col- 
 lar of ruddy gold, on which were precious emeralds 
 and rubies. More yellow was her head than the 
 flower of the broom; and her skin was whiter than 
 the foam of the wave; and fairer were her hands 
 and her ringers than the blossoms of the wood- 
 
 49
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 anemone amidst the spray of the meadow-fountain. 
 The eye of the trained hawk, or the glance of the 
 three-mewed falcon, was not brighter than hers. 
 Her bosom was more snowy than the breast of 
 the white swan; her cheek was redder than the 
 reddest roses; and who so beheld her was rilled 
 with love for her. Four white trefoils sprung up 
 wherever she trod; and therefore she was called 
 Olwen. 
 
 As she entered the house she stood a moment 
 looking at the assembly, and then she went and 
 took a seat beside Kilwch, upon the foremost 
 bench. As soon as he looked upon her he knew 
 her, and he said : 
 
 "Ah, maiden! thou art she whom I have loved; 
 and many a day have I loved thee ; come away with 
 me and be my bride lest they speak evil of thee 
 and of me." 
 
 "I cannot do this," she replied, "however much 
 I might like it, for I have pledged my father not to 
 go with any one without his counsel, for it has 
 been said that his life will last only until the time of 
 my espousals. Whatever is must be, but I will 
 give thee this advice, if thou wilt take it. Go ask 
 me of my father, and what he shall require of thee, 
 grant it, and thou wilt obtain me. But if thou 
 deny him anything, thou wilt not obtain me, and 
 it will be well for thee if thou escape with thy life." 
 
 "All this I promise," said Kilwch, "if the occa- 
 sion offers." 
 
 SO
 
 ffrom tbe nDabtnoaton 
 
 Then she bade them adieu and started to her 
 chamber, and they all rose up and followed her 
 into the castle. And they slew the nine porters 
 that were at the nine gates, in silence. And they 
 slew the nine watch-dogs, without one of them 
 barking. And they went forward to the hall, and 
 there they saw the King Yspaddaden Penhawr. 
 
 "The greeting of Heaven and of man be unto 
 thee, Yspaddaden Penhawr," said they. 
 
 "And you wherefore come you?" said the 
 king, in a stern voice. 
 
 "We come to ask thy daughter Olwen for 
 Kilwch, the son of Kilydd, the son of Kelyddon," 
 they replied. 
 
 "Where are my pages and my servants?" said 
 the King. "Raise up my two eyebrows which have 
 fallen over my eyes, that I may see the fashion of 
 my son-in-law." And they did so. 
 
 And when he had looked upon him for awhile he 
 said, "Come hither to-morrow, and you shall have 
 my answer." 
 
 Then they rose up to go forth, and as they went 
 the king seized one of the three poisoned darts 
 that lay beside him, and threw it after them. And 
 Bedwyr caught it in his hand, and flung it back, 
 and pierced the king with it through the knee. 
 
 At this he cried, "A cursed ungentle son-in-law, 
 truly! I shall ever walk the worse for his rude- 
 ness, and shall ever be without a cure. This poi- 
 soned iron pains me like the bite of a gad-fly. 
 
 51
 
 Wlonfcer 
 
 Cursed be the smith who forged it, and the anvil 
 whereon it was wrought !" 
 
 Then they withdrew from the castle, and that 
 night they took up their abode in the home of Cus- 
 tennin the herdsman. The next day, with the 
 dawn, they arrayed themselves with haste, and pro- 
 ceeded again to the castle, and as they entered the 
 hall they said: 
 
 "Yspaddaden Penkawr, give us thy daughter in 
 consideration of her dower and her maiden fee, 
 which we will pay to thee and to her two kins- 
 women likewise. And unless thou wilt do so thou 
 shalt meet with thy death on her account." 
 
 To this he replied, "Her four great-grand- 
 mothers and her four great-grandsires are yet 
 alive; and it is needful that I take counsel with 
 them." 
 
 "Be it so," they answered. "We will go to 
 meat." 
 
 As they rose up to go he took the second dart 
 that was beside him, and cast it after them. And 
 Menw, the son of Gwaedd caught it, and flung it 
 back at him, and struck him in the centre of the 
 breast, so that it came out at the small of his back. 
 
 "A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly!" said he. 
 "The hard iron pains me like the bite of a horse- 
 leech. Cursed be the hearth whereon it was 
 heated, and the smith who forged it ! Henceforth, 
 whenever I go up a hill, I shall have a shortness 
 
 52
 
 Jrotn tbe HDabinoaion 
 
 in my breath and a pain in my chest, and I shall 
 often loathe my food." 
 
 So they left him and went to their own lodgings 
 and spent the day in feasting and in pleasant games 
 and sports. 
 
 The third day they returned again to the palace. 
 And Yspaddaden Penkawr said to them, "Shoot 
 not at me again, unless you desire death. Where 
 are my attendants? Lift up the forks of my eye- 
 brows, which have fallen over my eyeballs, that I 
 may see the fashion of my son-in-law." 
 
 Then after he had denied them again they arose 
 to depart; and, as they did so, Yspaddaden Pen- 
 kawr took the third poisoned dart, and cast it at 
 them. And Kilwch caught it, and threw it back 
 vigorously, and wounded him through the eyeball 
 so that the dart came out at the back of his head. 
 
 "A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly! As long 
 as I remain alive, my eyesight will be the worse. 
 Whenever I go against the wind, my eyes will 
 water, and peradventure my head will burn, and I 
 shall have a giddiness every new moon. Cursed 
 be the fire in which the dart was forged ! Like the 
 bite of a mad dog is the stroke of this poisoned 
 iron." 
 
 And again they withdrew and spent the day in 
 feasting and in pastimes and in pleasant sports. 
 
 On the next day they came to the palace once 
 more, and they said to Yspaddaden, "Shoot not 
 at us any more, unless thou desirest such hurt and 
 
 53
 
 Storiee 
 
 harm and torture as thou now hast, and even more. 
 Give us thy daughter, and if thou wilt not give her, 
 thou shalt receive thy death because of her." 
 
 "Where is he that seeks my daughter?" said 
 Penkawr. "Come hither, where I may see thee." 
 And they placed him in a chair face to face with 
 him. 
 
 As Yspaddaden Penkawr looked upon him he 
 said, "Is it thou that seekest my daughter?" 
 
 "It is I," answered Kilwch. 
 
 "I must have thy pledge that thou wilt not do 
 towards me otherwise than is just, and when I 
 have gotten that which I shall name, my daughter 
 thou shalt have." 
 
 "I promise thee willingly," said Kilwch. "Name 
 what thou wilt." 
 
 "I will do so," said he. "Seest thou yonder red- 
 tilled ground?" 
 
 "I see it," answered Kilwch. 
 
 "When first I met the mother of this maiden, 
 nine bushels of flax were sown therein and none 
 has yet sprung up, neither white nor black. I re- 
 quire of thee to have the flax to sow in the new 
 land yonder, that when it grows up it may make a 
 white wimple for my daughter's head on the day 
 of thy wedding." 
 
 "It will be ea'Sv for me to compass this, although 
 thou mayst think that it will not be easy," answered 
 Kilwch. 
 
 "Though thou get this, there is yet that which 
 
 54
 
 from the fl&abtnogion 
 
 thou wilt not get, the harp of Teirtu, to play to 
 us that night. When a man desires that it should 
 play, it does so itself; and when he desires that it 
 should cease it ceases. And this he will not give 
 thee of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able 
 to compel him." 
 
 "It will be easy for me to compass this, al- 
 though thou mayest think that it will not be easy," 
 said Kilwch. 
 
 "Though thou get this, there is yet that which 
 thou wilt not get. I require thee to get for me 
 my huntsman Mabon, the son of Modron. He 
 was taken from his mother when three nights old, 
 and it is not known where he now is, nor whether 
 he is living or dead." 
 
 "It will be easy for me to compass this, al- 
 though thou mayest think it will not be easy," said 
 Kilwch. 
 
 "Though thou get him, there is that which thou 
 wilt not get, the two cubs of the wolf, Cast 
 Rhymhi; no leash in the world will hold them, but 
 a leash made from the beard of Dissull Varvawc, 
 the robber. And the leash will be of no avail un- 
 less it be plucked from his beard while he is alive, 
 and twitched out with wooden tweezers. While 
 he lives he will not suffer it to be done to him, and 
 the leash will be of no use should he be dead, be- 
 cause it will be brittle." 
 
 "It will be easy for me to compass this, although 
 
 55
 
 TOonfcer Storfes 
 
 thou mayest think it will not be easy," replied 
 Kilwch. 
 
 "When thou get this, there is that yet which thou 
 wilt not get, the sword of Gwrnach the Giant; 
 of his own free will he will not give it, either for a 
 price or as a gift; and thou wilt never be able to 
 compel him." 
 
 "It will be easy for me to compass this, although 
 thou mayest think that it will not be easy," said 
 Kilwch. 
 
 "Though thou get this, there is yet that 
 which thou wilt not get. Difficulties shalt thou 
 meet with, and nights without sleep, in seeking 
 this, and, if thou obtain it not, neither shalt thou 
 obtain my daughter." 
 
 To this Kilwch answered, "Horses shall I have 
 and brave men to aid me, and my lord and kins- 
 man Arthur will obtain for me all these things. 
 And I shall gain thy daughter, and thou shalt lose 
 thy life." 
 
 "Go forward then and thou shalt be chargeable 
 for food and raiment for my daughter whilst thou 
 art seeking these things; and when thou hast com- 
 passed all these marvels, thou shalt have my daugh- 
 ter for thy wife." 
 
 Thereupon they left the castle of Penkawr and 
 started on their way to achieve the tasks that had 
 been set before Kilwch, seeking first to find the 
 sword of Gwrnach the Giant.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 HOW KILWCH WON OLWEN FOR HIS WIFE 
 
 ALL that day they journeyed, and as the sun 
 was sinking behind the hills they beheld 
 a castle, which was the largest in the 
 world. And lo, a black man, huger than any 
 three of the men of the world, came out of the 
 castle. 
 
 As he came near they spake unto him saying, 
 "Whence comest thou, O man?" 
 
 "From the castle you see yonder," the black 
 man replied. 
 
 "Whose castle is that?" they asked. 
 
 "Stupid are ye, truly, O men," he answered. 
 "There is no one in the world that does not know 
 to whom this castle belongs. It is the castle of 
 Gwrnach, the giant." 
 
 "What treatment is there for guests and 
 strangers that alight at that castle?" inquired 
 Kilwch. 
 
 "O chieftain," the black man replied, "Heaven 
 protect thee! No guest ever returned thence 
 alive, and no one may enter therein, unless he 
 brings with him his craft." 
 
 Hearing this they proceeded toward the gate; 
 
 57
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 and Gwrhyr Gwalstawd asked, "Is there a porter at 
 the gate?" 
 
 "There is," the man replied, "but wherefore dost 
 thou inquire?" 
 
 "Open the gate," demanded one of Kilwch's 
 men. 
 
 "I will not open it," the porter replied. 
 
 "Wherefore wilt thou not open it?" asked 
 Kilwch. 
 
 "The knife is in the meat, and the drink is in the 
 horn, and there is revelry in the hall of Gwrnach 
 the Giant, and except for a craftsman who brings 
 his craft the gate will not be opened to-night." 
 
 "Verily, porter," said Kay, "I may enter, for 
 my craft bring I with me." 
 
 "What is thy craft?" the porter inquired. 
 
 "The best burnisher of swords am I in the 
 world," said Kay. 
 
 "I will go and tell this unto Gwrnach the Giant, 
 and I will bring thee an answer." 
 
 So the porter went in, and Gwrnach said to him, 
 "Hast thou any news from the gate ?" 
 
 "I have," replied the porter. "There is a party 
 at the door of the gate who desire to come in." 
 
 "Didst thou inquire of them if they possessed 
 any art ?" 
 
 "I did inquire," said he, "and one told me he was 
 well skilled in the burnishing of swords." 
 
 "We have need of him, then," said the Giant. 
 "For some time have I sought for some one to 
 
 58
 
 from tbc flDabinoofon 
 
 polish my sword, and could find no one. Let this 
 man enter, since he brings with him his craft." 
 
 Thereupon the porter returned and opened the 
 gate. And Kay went in by himself, and he saluted 
 Gwrnach the Giant. And a chair was placed for 
 him opposite to Gwrnach. And Gwrnach said to 
 him, "O man ! is it true that is reported of thee, 
 that thou knowest how to burnish swords?' 
 
 "I know full well how to do so," answered Kay. 
 
 Then Gwrnach commanded that his sword be 
 brought to him. And Kay took a blue whetstone 
 from under his arm, and asked him whether he 
 would have it burnished white or blue." 
 
 "Do with it as it seems good to thee, and as 
 thou wouldst if it were thine own," the Giant an- 
 swered. 
 
 Then Kay polished one-half of the blade, and 
 put it in his hand. "Will this please thee?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "I would rather than all that is in my dominions 
 that the whole of it were like unto this," he an- 
 swered. "But it is a marvel to me that such a 
 man as thou should be without a companion." 
 
 "O noble sir," Kay replied, "I have a companion, 
 albeit he is not skilled in this art." 
 
 "Who may he be?" inquired Gwrnach. 
 
 "Let the porter go forth, and I will tell him 
 whereby he may know him. The head of his lance 
 will leave its shaft, and draw blood from the wind, 
 and will descend upon its shaft again." 
 
 59
 
 TOonfcer Storie0 
 
 Then the porter went to the gate and opened 
 it, and Bedwyr entered. And Kay said, "Bedwyr 
 is very skillful, although he knows not this art." 
 
 And there was much discourse among those who 
 were without because that Kay and Bedwyr had 
 gone in. And a young man who was with him, 
 the only son of Custennin, the herdsman, got in 
 also. And he contrived to admit all the rest, 
 though they kept themselves concealed. 
 
 The sword was now polished, and Kay gave it 
 into the hands of Gwrnach, the Giant, to see if he 
 were pleased with the work. And the Giant said, 
 "The work is good; I am content therewith." 
 
 "It is thy scabbard that hath rusted thy sword," 
 said Kay. "Give it to me, that I may take out the 
 wooden sides of it, and put in new ones." 
 
 So saying he took the scabbard from him, and 
 the sword in the other hand. And he came and 
 stood over the Giant, as if he would have put the 
 sword into the scabbard ; and with it he cut off the 
 head of the Giant at one blow. Then they de- 
 spoiled the castle, and took from it what goods 
 and jewels they would. And again on the same 
 day, at the beginning of the year, they came to 
 Arthur's court, bearing with them the sword of 
 Gwrnach the Giant. Thus they achieved the first 
 of their tasks. 
 
 Now when they told King Arthur how they had 
 sped, he said, "It is a good beginning." 
 
 Then they took counsel together and said, 
 
 60
 
 Jfrom tbe fiDa bfnofiton 
 
 "Which of these marvels will it be best to seek 
 next?" 
 
 "It will be best," said one, "to seek Mabon, the 
 son of Modron; and he will not be found, unless 
 we first find Eidoel, the son of Aer, his kinsman." 
 
 Then King Arthur rose up, and the warriors of 
 the Island of Britain with him, to seek for Eidoel, 
 and they proceeded until they came before the 
 Castle of Glivi, where Eiodel was imprisoned. 
 
 Glivi stood on the summit of his castle, and as 
 he saw Arthur and his men, he said, "King Arthur, 
 what requirest thou of me, since nothing remains 
 to me in this fortress, and I have neither joy nor 
 pleasure in it, neither wheat nor oats? Seek not 
 therefore to do me harm." 
 
 And King Arthur answered, "Not to injure thee 
 came I hither, but to seek for the prisoner that is 
 with thee." 
 
 "I will give thee my prisoner, though I had not 
 thought to give him up to any one, and therewith 
 shalt thou have my support and my aid." 
 
 At this his followers said unto King Arthur, 
 "Lord, go thou home; thou canst not proceed with 
 thy host in quest of such small adventures as 
 these." 
 
 Then said King Arthur, "It were well for thee, 
 Gwrhyr Gwalstawd leithoedd, to go upon this 
 quest; for thou knowest all languages, and art 
 familiar with those of birds and beasts. And thou, 
 Eidoel, oughtest likewise to go with the men in 
 
 61
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 search of thy cousin. As for you, Kay and Bedwyr, 
 I have hope of whatever adventure ye are in quest 
 of, that ye will achieve it. Achieve ye this adven- 
 ture for me." So saying King Arthur left them 
 and returned to his castle. 
 
 Then they went forward until they came to the 
 place where the Ousel of Cilgwri dwelt. And 
 Gwrhyr adjured her for the sake of Heaven, say- 
 ing, "Tell me if thou knowest aught of Mabon, the 
 son of Modron, who was taken when three nights 
 old from between his mother and the wall." 
 
 And the Ousel answered, "When I first came 
 here, there was a smith's anvil in this place, and 
 I was then a young bird. And from that time no 
 work has been done upon it, save the pecking of 
 my beak every evening; and now there is not so 
 much as the size of a nut remaining thereof; yet 
 during all that time I have never heard of the man 
 for whom you inquire. Nevertheless, I will do 
 that which is fitting that I should do for an em- 
 bassy from Arthur. There is a race of animals who 
 were formed before me, and I will be your guide to 
 them." 
 
 So they proceeded to the place where was the 
 Stag of Redynvre. "Stag of Redynvre," said the 
 Ousel, "behold, we are come to thee, an embassy 
 from King Arthur; for we have not heard of any 
 animal older than thou. Say, knowest thou aught 
 of Mabon, the son of Modron, who was taken from 
 his mother when three nights old?" 
 
 62
 
 fftom tbe nDabinoaion 
 
 The Stag answered, "When first I came hither, 
 there was a plain all around me, without any trees 
 save one oak sapling, which grew up to be an oak 
 with an hundred branches. And that oak has 
 since perished; so that now nothing remains of it 
 but the withered stump. And from that day to 
 this I have been here; yet have I never heard of 
 the man for whom you inquire. Nevertheless, be- 
 ing an embassy from Arthur, I will be your guide 
 to the place where there is an animal which was 
 formed before I was." 
 
 So they proceeded to the place where was the 
 Owl of Cwm Cawlwyd. "Owl of Cwm Cawlwyd," 
 said the Stag, "here is an embassy from King Ar- 
 thur to ask thee if thou knowest aught of Mabon, 
 the son of Modron, who was taken from his mother 
 when he was three nights old." 
 
 "If I knew, I would tell you," replied the Owl. 
 "When first I came hither, the whole valley you 
 see was a wooded glen. And a race of men came 
 and rooted it up. And there grew there a second 
 wood; and this wood is the third. My wings, are 
 they not withered stumps? Yet all this time, even 
 until to-day, I have never heard of the man for 
 whom you inquire. Nevertheless, I will be the 
 guide of Arthur's embassy until you come to the 
 place where is the oldest animal in the world, and 
 the one that has traveled most, the Eagle of 
 Gwern Abwy." 
 
 When they reached the place where the Eagle 
 
 63
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 dwelt, the Owl said, "Eagle of Gwern Abwy, we 
 have come to thee, an embassy from Arthur, to ask 
 thee if thou knowest aught of Mabon, the son of 
 Modron, who was taken from his mother when he 
 was three nights old?" 
 
 "If I knew I would tell you," said the Eagle. "I 
 have been here for a great space of time, and when 
 I first came hither there was a rock here from the 
 top of which I peeped at the stars every evening; 
 and it has crumbled away, and now it is not so 
 much as a span high. All that time I have been 
 here, and I have never heard of the man for whom 
 you inquire, except once, when I went in search 
 of food as far as Llyn Llyw. And when I came 
 there I struck my talons into a salmon, thinking 
 he would serve me as food for a long time. But 
 he drew me into the water, and I was scarcely able 
 to escape from him. After that I made peace with 
 him; and I drew fifty fish spears out of his back, 
 and relieved him. Unless he knows something of 
 him whom you seek, I cannot tell who may. How- 
 ever, I will guide you to the place where he is." 
 
 So they went together; and when they reached 
 the place where the salmon dwelt the Eagle said, 
 "Salmon of Llyn Llyw, I have come to thee with 
 an embassy from Arthur, to ask thee if thou know- 
 est aught concerning Mabon, the son of Modron, 
 who was taken away when three nights old from 
 his mother." 
 
 "As much as I know I will tell thee," the Salmon 
 
 64
 
 from tbe nDabinogion 
 
 answered. "With every tide I go along the river 
 upwards until I come near to the walls of Glou- 
 cester, and there have I found such wrong as I 
 never found elsewhere. And to the end that ye 
 may give evidence thereto let one of you go hither 
 upon each of my two shoulders." 
 
 So Kay and Gwrhyr Gwalstawd put themselves 
 upon the two shoulders of the Salmon, and they 
 proceeded until they came unto the wall of a 
 prison; and there they heard a great wailing and 
 lamenting from the dungeon. 
 
 And Gwrhyr called out in a loud voice saying, 
 "Who is it that laments in this house of stone ?" 
 
 "Alas!" replied the prisoner, "it is Mabon, the 
 son of Modron, who is here imprisoned, and no im- 
 prisonment was ever so grievous as mine." 
 
 "Hast thou hope of being released for gold, or 
 for silver, or for any gifts of wealth, or through 
 battle and fighting?" they inquired. 
 
 "Only by fighting," he replied, "will whatever 
 I may gain be obtained." 
 
 Then they went thence and returned to King 
 Arthur, and they told him where Mabon, the son 
 of Modron, was imprisoned, and that he could be 
 delivered only by force of arms. So Arthur sum- 
 moned the warriors of the island, and they jour- 
 neyed as far as Gloucester to the place where Ma- 
 bon was in prison. Kay and Redwyr were upon 
 the shoulders of the fish, whilst the warriors of 
 Arthur attacked the castle. And Kay broke 
 
 6s
 
 "Cdcmfccr Stories 
 
 through the wall into the dungeon, and brought 
 away the prisoner upon his back, whilst the fight 
 was going on between the warriors. And King 
 Arthur, having obtained the object of his search, 
 returned home and Mabon with him now at lib- 
 erty. Thus was achieved the capture of Mabon. 
 
 Then they set forth to achieve the task of the 
 flax. Now on a certain day, as Gwyhyr Gwalstawd 
 was walking over a mountain, he heard a wailing 
 and a grievous cry. And when he heard it he 
 sprang forward and went towards it. And when 
 he came there, he saw a fire burning among the 
 turf, and an ant hill nearly surrounded with fire. 
 And he drew his sword, and smote off the ant hill 
 close to the earth, so that it escaped being burned 
 in the fire. And the ants said to him, "Receive 
 for us the blessing of Heaven, and that which no 
 man can give we will give thee." 
 
 Then they fetched the nine bushels of flax seed 
 which Yspaddaden Penkawr had required of 
 Kilwch, and they brought the full measure without 
 lacking any, except one flax seed, and that a lame 
 ant brought in before night. 
 
 Then said King Arthur, "Which of the marvels 
 will it be best for us to seek next?" 
 
 "It will be best to seek for the two cubs of the 
 wolf Cast Rhymhi," they said. 
 
 "Is it known," replied King Arthur, "where she 
 is?" 
 
 66
 
 date ajgreat amofee tot)icij 
 bit* not beni toiti) ttje toinb j^
 
 from tbe fl&abfnoafott 
 
 "She is at the house of Tringad in Aber Deu 
 Cleddyf," said one. 
 
 Then King Arthur went to the house of Trin- 
 gad in Aber Deu Cleddyf, and he inquired of him 
 whether he had heard of her there. 
 
 "She is in the form of a she-wolf with her two 
 cubs, and has often slain my herds," Tringad re- 
 plied, "and she is there below in a cave in Aber 
 Cleddyf." 
 
 Then King Arthur went in his ship Prydwen, by 
 sea, and the others went by land to hunt her. And 
 they surrounded her and her two cubs, and took 
 them, and carried them away. Thus they achieved 
 the task of finding the two cubs of the wolf. 
 
 Then they started to find the robber out of 
 whose beard they were to make a leash for the 
 cubs. As they journeyed Kay and Bedwyr came 
 to a beacon cairn on the summit of Plinlimmon, 
 and there they found the highest wind that ever 
 was in the world. As they looked around them 
 they saw a great smoke towards the south afar 
 off, which did not bend with the wind. 
 
 As they gazed upon the smoke Kay exclaimed, 
 "By the hand of my friend, behold, yonder is the 
 fire of a robber !" 
 
 Then they arose and hastened toward the smoke, 
 and they came so near it that they could see Dillus 
 Varvawc scorching a wild boar. 
 
 "Behold, yonder is the greatest robber that ever 
 
 67
 
 TOonber Stories 
 
 fled from King Arthur," said Bedwyr unto Kay. 
 "Dost thou know him?" 
 
 "I do know him," answered Kay. "He is Dillus 
 Varvawc, and no leash in the world will be able to 
 hold the cubs of Cast Rhymhi, save a leash made 
 from the beard of him thou seest yonder. And 
 even that will be useless unless his beard be plucked 
 out alive, with wooden tweezers, for if dead it will 
 be brittle." 
 
 "What thinkest thou that we should do concern- 
 ing this?" said Bedwyr. 
 
 "Let us suffer him," said Kay, "to eat as much 
 as he will of the meat, and after that he will fall 
 asleep." 
 
 So during the time he was eating they employed 
 themselves in making the wooden tweezers. And 
 when Kay knew certainly that he was asleep he 
 made a pit under his feet, and then he struck him 
 a violent blow, and squeezed him into the pit. And 
 there they twitched out his beard completely with 
 the wooden tweezers, and after that they slew him 
 altogether. And from thence they went, and took 
 the leash made of the robber's beard, and they 
 gave it into King Arthur's hand. 
 
 Thus they accomplished all the marvels that 
 Yspaddaden Penkawr had required of Kilwch ; and 
 they set forward and took all these marvels to his 
 court. When they came to the castle, Kilwch said 
 to Yspaddaden Penkawr. 
 
 68
 
 from tbe nDabinogion 
 
 "We have accomplished all the marvelous tasks 
 that thou assigned us; is thy daughter mine now?" 
 
 "She is thine," he replied, "for I must keep my 
 promise, though I am loath to do so; but thou 
 needest not to thank me, but Arthur who hath ac- 
 complished this for thee. By my free will thou 
 shouldst never have her, for with her I lose my 
 life." 
 
 Then Goren, the son of Custennin, the herds- 
 man, whose brothers Yspaddaden Penkawr had 
 slain, seized him by the hair of the head, and 
 dragged him after him to the keep, and there cut 
 off his head, and placed it on a stake on the citadel. 
 After which they took possession of his castle and 
 of his treasures. 
 
 And there was feasting and music and great re- 
 joicing that all the tasks had been achieved, and 
 that the wicked King Penkawr had been slain. And 
 that night Olwen became Kilwch's bride, and she 
 continued to be his wife as long as she lived. 
 
 This is one of the most characteristic of the Welsh 
 tales, and shows their love for the marvelous and their 
 childish faith in the power of animals to think and talk 
 like human beings. Like children of the present day, 
 these children of the forests and hills of Wales took de- 
 light in tales in which deeds of magic and supernatural 
 powers were prominent. 
 
 The characters and events which it celebrates are 
 altogether of native origin, nor has any parallel or coun- 
 terpart been discovered In any other language. 
 
 I have omitted a number of pages of the original of 
 
 69
 
 Monger Stories 
 
 this story, especially those naming the tasks that were 
 assigned to Kilwch, of which there are twenty-six in all. 
 Many of them are even more extravagant and chimerical 
 than those I have included.
 
 T befell once when King Arthur held his 
 Christmas feast, some of his best 
 knights, as Sir Launcelot and his kin, 
 Sir Marhaus, Sir Pelles, and the sons of King Pel- 
 linore, were absent, wandering in search of ad- 
 ventures. Still there were many good knights of 
 the Round Table in their places, and no lack of 
 barons and ladies to uphold the high revels. The 
 King kept New Year's day with great splendor, 
 bestowing rich gifts on all his knights and ladies. 
 But when the banquet was spread at noontide, 
 Arthur, as his custom was, would not sit at the 
 table until some adventure should have happened. 
 He was not long kept waiting, for suddenly 
 there rode into the great hall the tallest knight 
 that had ever been seen by any of the court. His 
 stature was that of a giant, and he had the bulk 
 of four ordinary men. He was clad entirely in 
 green, save that he wore spurs of bright gold. His 
 long hair was green, and a bushy beard of the same 
 color flowed over his breast. The mighty steed on 
 
 7'
 
 Member 
 
 which he sat was also green, but its mane was 
 decked with gold threads. This strange-looking 
 knight carried neither spear nor shield, but in one 
 hand he bore a holly bough, and in the other a 
 great axe with an edge like a razor and a massive 
 handle of solid iron. He entered without making 
 any salutation; and the marvelous apparition of 
 so huge a man and horse, all as green as grass, 
 awed for the moment the boldest knight there, so 
 that no one spoke to him. At last, in a rough 
 voice, he asked, "Where is the governor of this 
 company?" 
 
 At that King Arthur roused himself, saluted the 
 Green Knight courteously, and invited him to sit 
 down at the banquet. 
 
 "That will I not do," answered the other. "I 
 come not here to feast, but to seek the most valiant 
 man of thy court, that I may prove him; but me- 
 thinks here are only beardless children, for I see 
 no man who is worthy to match me. If any one of 
 you be bold enough to strike one stroke for an- 
 other this axe shall be his, and I will abide his 
 blow, but he shall receive a stroke in return from 
 me within twelve months and a day." 
 
 To this strange challenge none of the knights 
 present was eager to make a reply, for all of them 
 felt that after a single blow from so strong an arm 
 and so formidable a weapon as those of the Green 
 Knight, no man would be in condition either to 
 receive or give another. When all were thus 
 
 72
 
 from tbe flDaWnogfon 
 
 silent, the Green Knight rolled about his eyes, and 
 tauntingly exclaimed that the famous Knights of 
 the Round Table were no better than a pack of 
 cowards. Then was King Arthur wrathful, and he 
 sprang to his feet and said that he at least feared 
 neither the Green Knight nor his axe, and that 
 he would himself undertake the adventure. So he 
 seized the axe, and the knight, placidly stroking 
 his beard, drew down his garments, bared his neck, 
 and awaited the blow. 
 
 When Sir Gawaine saw that, he came from his 
 seat and entreated King Arthur not to hazard his 
 own sacred person in that adventure, but to let 
 him undertake it instead. To this the king was 
 loath to assent, but all the court so entreated him 
 that at last he resigned the axe to Gawaine. 
 
 "Who, then, art thou?" said the Green Knight, 
 eyeing scornfully his new opponent. 
 
 "Know thou well," answered Gawaine, "that I 
 am Gawaine, son of King Lot of Orkney, Knight 
 of the Round Table, and nephew unto our gracious 
 lord King Arthur." 
 
 At this the Green Knight smiled grimly, saying, 
 "It pleases me well to receive a blow from thee; 
 but thou must swear that within a year and a day 
 thou wilt seek me to receive a blow in return." 
 
 "Where shall I seek thee?" asked Gawaine. 
 "Tell me thy name and abode." 
 
 "When thou hast smitten me," answered the 
 knight, "then will I tell thee; and if I cannot speak 
 
 73
 
 "CQonfcer Storiee 
 
 at all, it will be so much the better for thee. Take 
 now the axe, and let me see how thou canst smite." 
 
 So Gawaine gripped the axe, and the knight, 
 throwing aside his long hair, again bared and bent 
 his neck. Sir Gawaine, lifting the axe on high, 
 smote with all his might, and so great a blow did 
 he give that the knight's brawny neck was smitten 
 clean through, as if it had been a twig, and his huge 
 head rolled on the floor of the hall. Deeming that 
 now there was an end of their strange visitor, some 
 of the knights pushed the head with their feet as 
 it went past them. But they had reckoned without 
 knowing the marvelous vitality of the Green 
 Knight. He received Gawaine's stroke and the 
 loss of his head as though nothing had befallen 
 him. Striding down the hall, he picked up his 
 head. Then stepping back again to his horse, he 
 mounted, and held up his head at arm's length, the 
 which, raising its eyelids and gazing sternly at Ga- 
 waine said, "Well and mighty hast thou stricken 
 me. Now be thou ready to go forth according to 
 thy promise, and seek till thou find me. Get thee 
 to the Green Chapel, there to receive from me a 
 blow on New Year's morn; and if thou fail, then 
 art thou recreant." 
 
 So saying, the knight, still carrying his head in 
 his outstretched hand, put spurs to his horse and 
 dashed out of the hall. Undismayed either by this 
 fearsome sight or by the warning words which the 
 head had spoken, Gawaine burst out into great 
 
 74
 
 fftom tbe HDabinoaicm 
 
 laughter, in which the king and his knights pres- 
 ently joined, though Queen Guinevere and the 
 ladies were still, in truth, too much afraid to do 
 so. And the banquet proceeded without further 
 thought of the Green Knight. 
 
 The year wore round till All-hallowmas, when 
 Sir Gawaine began to think of his ghastly tryst 
 with the headless knight, and prepared him for 
 his journey. King Arthur held a feast in honor of 
 his nephew, and thereafter Gawaine set out amid 
 great lamentations, for there were few that ex- 
 pected to see him again in life, since it was certain 
 that if the Green Knight smote off his head, he 
 would not be able to rise and take it in his hand. 
 But he rode forth showing no sign of fear; and 
 after a long and tedious journey through a wild 
 and desolate country, during which he had many 
 perilous adventures with serpents, wolves, bulls, 
 bears, and wild men, he found himself, on Christ- 
 mas morning, in a deep forest of ancient oaks. 
 Looking around him, he saw at a little distance the 
 noblest castle he had ever beheld, with walls that 
 rose to a great height, and massive towers of gray 
 stone. Riding up to the gate, he found it shut 
 fast, and the drawbridge raised. Lifting up his 
 voice, Gawaine summoned the castle, and there 
 appeared at the gate a porter, who asked his er- 
 rand. The knight answered that he sought a lodg- 
 ing. Then answered the porter that he should be 
 welcome to dwell there as long as he would. 
 
 7J
 
 "CQonfccr Stories 
 
 Straightway the drawbridge was let down, the 
 gate flew open, and Gawaine entered. When he 
 dismounted from his horse it was well stabled; 
 while many knights and squires came forward to 
 receive the rider, conducted him into the great hall 
 of the castle, and relieved him of his helmet and 
 armor. Then the lord of the castle came forward, 
 courteously bade Gawaine welcome, and embraced 
 him. He was a man of vast stature and great 
 strength, with a stern but noble countenance. He 
 led Gawaine into a splendid chamber, and assigned 
 him a page to wait upon him. 
 
 Having donned the rich robes that were pro- 
 vided for him, the knight returned to the hall, 
 where he sat down with his host and the numerous 
 guests to a noble banquet. In answer to the ques- 
 tions which were courteously asked him, Sir Ga- 
 waine informed his entertainer that he was a 
 knight of King Arthur's court, whereat there was 
 joy in the hall, and every one in the company made 
 much of him. After dinner all the party went to 
 the chapel to hear even-song. There Sir Gawaine 
 sat by the lord and his lady, who was young and 
 sprightly, and surpassed even Queen Guinevere 
 in beauty. Gawaine at the bidding of her lord, sa- 
 luted her with a kiss, whereat she blushed rosy red, 
 and he begeed permission to be her knight and 
 servant. When even-song had been said, all re- 
 turned to the hall, where they were served with 
 wine and spices, and there was much pleasant con- 
 
 76
 
 Ifrom tbe fl&abinoaion 
 
 verse. The lord took off his hood the which was 
 adorned with gold and precious stones placed it 
 on a spear, and said that he who made the most 
 mirth should have it for his guerdon. It was won 
 by Sir Gawaine, who told many stories that he had 
 heard in King Arthur's court; but he bestowed the 
 hood upon the page that served him. 
 
 After three days had been pleasantly passed in 
 feasting and merry-making, the guests began to 
 depart, and Gawaine bethought him of the quest 
 he was sworn to follow. But the lord of the castle 
 sought to detain him, and asked him how it hap- 
 pened that he was away from Arthur's court at 
 Christmas tide. Gawaine answered that he had 
 a tryst at the Green Chapel on New Year's morn. 
 The lord said he would show him the place, for it 
 was only two miles from his castle; and to hear 
 this Gawaine was well pleased. Then the lord said 
 he was going out to the chase. He asked the 
 knight to stay within and keep his lady company 
 the while. "Whatever," he said, "I win in the 
 chase shall be thine, and whatever thou mayst 
 achieve while I am absent thou shalt give to me." 
 To this mirthful bargain Gawaine cheerfully as- 
 sented. 
 
 The knight of the castle went forth accordingly 
 into the forest with huntsmen and hounds, and Ga- 
 waine in the meanwhile entertained the lady. 
 Very soon she gave him to understand that if he 
 would he might have her love; but he, being mind- 
 
 77
 
 "CdonDcr Storied 
 
 ful of his duty to his host, answered only that he 
 would ever be her knight and faithful servant, nor 
 could she gain any promise of his love from him 
 even when she kissed him with her rosy lips. At 
 night her lord returned, and gave to Gawaine a 
 deer which he had slain in the chase; and there- 
 upon Gawaine gave him in return the kiss which 
 the lady had bestowed upon him. The lord smiled, 
 and asked him if he had received any other tokens 
 of his lady's love, but to that Gawaine made no 
 answer. 
 
 The next day the lord again went forth with his 
 men and hounds, and the lady once more sought 
 Gawaine, to whom she again spoke tender words, 
 and bestowed on him a second kiss, which he re- 
 ceived with due respect and courtesy as a token of 
 her friendship. At night the master of the castle 
 brought back with him a wolf's skin for Gawaine, 
 who had only the kiss to give in exchange. On 
 the third day the fair dame again attempted to 
 have him declare his love for her, and so marvelous 
 was her beauty, that only by dint of great efforts 
 did Gawaine remain true to his knightly vows. 
 When the lady found that he would in no wise re- 
 spond to her blandishments save by such cour- 
 tesies as it was proper for a knight to offer, she 
 drew from her finger a rich ring, and begged him 
 to accept it as a keepsake; but he excused himself. 
 Then she took off the green girdle she wore, and 
 proffered that to him ; but it also he refused. 
 
 78
 
 Jftom tbe nDabinoaton 
 
 "Ah, Sir Knight," quoth she, "surely thou 
 wouldst not refuse the girdle didst thou but know 
 its worth. Who so weareth that girdle bound 
 about his body can by no means be wounded or 
 slain." 
 
 When Gawaine heard that, he remembered that 
 on the next day he was sworn to receive a stroke 
 from the Green Knight, and he thought that the 
 girdle would then be very welcome to him. So he 
 consented to receive it from the lady. Then said 
 she, "I will not give it to thee unless thou promise 
 on thy knightly word to keep the gift secret from 
 my lord." Sir Gawaine had by this time become 
 so eager for the girdle that he promised as she de- 
 sired. Then she bestowed it upon him, and three 
 kisses also. In no long time after this his host 
 came back with a great boar that he had slain, 
 which he gave to Gawaine, who in return kissed 
 him thrice, but, according to his promise, said 
 nothing about the girdle. 
 
 On the following day, Gawaine armed himself, 
 having first wrapped the lady's girdle about his 
 body, mounted his good horse, and set out for the 
 Green Chapel, having taken an affectionate leave 
 of the lord and lady of the castle. The lord had 
 appointed one of his men to guide him to the 
 place, who led him through the oak-wood, and past 
 huge mountains with their tops all shrouded in 
 mist, till they came to the mouth of a valley all 
 dark and desolate. Therein, said the squire, was 
 
 79
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 the Green Chapel; but he himself would go no far- 
 ther, for it was the most perilous place in the 
 world. "He who dwells there," he said, "is full 
 stiff and stern, and bigger than any four knights 
 in King Arthur's court. No man hath ever yet 
 been to the Green Chapel whom he did not slay 
 by a single blow of his hand. I counsel thee, there- 
 fore, Sir Knight, to quit this perilous quest, and 
 withdraw thee; and if thou dost, I swear to thee 
 that I will never reveal it." 
 
 But Gawaine, bearing in mind his promise to the 
 Green Knight, and comforted also in heart by 
 knowing the magic power of the girdle, would not 
 hearken to the squire, but bade him farewell, and 
 rode on into the ravine. Long time he rode by 
 a wild and rugged path, amid beetling rocks and 
 huge leafless trees, but saw nothing, till at last he 
 came where there was a great cave in the rock, 
 and he was aware of a horrible sound, like to the 
 sharpening of a steel blade on a grindstone, but 
 far louder. Nothing dismayed, the knight called 
 out, "Who dwelleth here, with whom I may hold 
 discourse ?" 
 
 A rough voice answered, bidding him abide 
 where he was; and presently forth from the cave 
 strode the Green Knight, with his grim head again 
 on his shoulders, and carrying in his hand a new 
 axe with a blade full bright and' keen. 
 
 "I give thee good-morrow, Knight," quoth he 
 to Gawaine. "Well and truly hast thou kept thy 
 
 80
 
 jftom tbe fl&abinosion 
 
 time. Have now thy helm off, and take thy pay 
 at once." 
 
 "By my faith," answered Gawaine, "I do not be- 
 grudge thee thy will." 
 
 Then he took off his helm and bared his neck, 
 and calmly awaited the blow. The Green Knight 
 raised the axe, and brought it down with so much 
 might that it hissed as it swept through the air, 
 but he made it pass just by Gawaine, who shrank 
 a little as it came by him, at which the Green 
 Knight laughed scornfully. 
 
 "Behold," he said, "Thou art a Knight of the 
 Table Round, and yet showest fear before thou 
 hast felt harm. So did not I when thou didst 
 strike me, and therefore must I be the better 
 man." 
 
 "It is true," said Gawaine, "that I have shrunk 
 once, but I will not shrink again. Therefore strike 
 thou, and speedily." 
 
 Again the Green Knight brought down the axe 
 close by his neck, but Gawaine moved not at all 
 nor changed countenance. So the third time the 
 knight smote him full on the neck, and the axe 
 just drew blood, but no more. Then Gawaine 
 drew his sword. 
 
 "Have a care," said he, "that thou strike not 
 again, for my covenant with thee was only to re- 
 ceive one blow." 
 
 Then the other laughed loud, and when Gawaine 
 
 81
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 looked at him, behold he was no longer the Green 
 Knight, but his late host, the lord of the castle. 
 
 "Know thou," said he, "that I sent my lady to 
 thee to test thy knightly honor, and in the main I 
 found thee true; but thou sinnedst a little for love 
 of thy life when thou didst take the girdle and 
 spoke nothing of it to me." 
 
 Then was Gawaine sore abashed, and he de- 
 nounced bitterly his own cowardice and covetous- 
 ness, and took off the girdle and threw it to the 
 lord of the castle. 
 
 "Nay," said the other, "now that thou art re- 
 pentant, I hold thee to be as free from dishonor as 
 if thou hadst never sinned." 
 
 And he gave him the girdle as a token of his ad- 
 venture, and invited him to return again with him 
 to the castle. This, however, Gawaine, who was 
 still exceedingly ashamed, would not do; but he 
 desired to be remembered to the fair lady that had 
 sought to beguile him. He thanked the lord for 
 the girdle, and said he would wear it in memory 
 of his good lady and also of his own fault. Then 
 he asked the other for his name, and the knight 
 said he was called Bernlak de Hautdesert, and that 
 he served Morgan le Fay. She it was who had 
 caused him to go in the guise of the Green Knight 
 to Camelot, to test the renown of the Round Table, 
 hoping to grieve Arthur and Guinevere. Then the 
 two parted, and Gawaine rode back to Camelot, 
 
 82
 
 from tbc fiDabinoQion 
 
 where he was joyfully welcomed, and told all his 
 adventures even as they have been here set down. 
 
 This quaint tale is not found in the Mabinogion, but it 
 is so similar in thought and spirit to those stories that 
 I have thought it well to include it with them. It is copied 
 from an English publication with a few slight changes to 
 adapt it more fully to American youth. It is seen to be 
 a real Arthurian tale, though it is not given by Malory 
 in his story of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round 
 Table.
 
 ti)t 
 
 Chapter I 
 
 oi 
 
 ANY years ago an earl named Evrawc 
 owned the earldom of the North. He 
 had seven sons; and the youngest was 
 named Peredur. Now Earl Evrawc delighted in 
 tournaments and combats and wars, and so it hap- 
 pened that in a war he was slain and six of his 
 sons with him. His youngest son, Peredur, was 
 not of an age to go to wars, otherwise he might 
 have been slain as well as his father and his 
 brothers. 
 
 Now Peredur's mother was very anxious for fear 
 her younger son should also delight in tourna- 
 ments and wars and be slain like his father and 
 brothers, so she fled with him to the wilderness 
 and would permit none to bear her company, but 
 women and boys and timid men that knew not the 
 use of arms. And no one dared to bring her either 
 horses or arms, lest her son should set his mind 
 upon them and desire to be a knight. The youth 
 went daily into the forest to divert himself by 
 flinging sticks and stones at the trees and other 
 objects found there. And thus he grew to be a 
 
 84
 
 from tbe 
 
 young man and knew nothing of knights and the 
 arts of knighthood. 
 
 One day as it chanced, three knights came rid- 
 ing along a road that ran by the borders of the 
 forest. These knights were in pursuit of one who 
 had stolen some apples from King Arthur's court; 
 and one of them was Owain, the son of Urien. As 
 Peredur saw these men he said to his mother, 
 
 "Mother, what are those yonder?" 
 
 "They are angels, my son," said she. 
 
 "By my faith," said Peredur, "I will go and be- 
 come an angel with them." 
 
 So Peredur went to the road and met them. As 
 Owain saw him he said: 
 
 "Young man, sawest thou a knight pass this way 
 either to-day or yesterday?" 
 
 "I know not," answered Peredur, "what is a 
 knight?" 
 
 "Why such an one as I am," said Owain. 
 
 As Peredur gazed in admiration on Owain he 
 said, "If thou wilt tell me what I ask thee, I will 
 tell thee that which thou askest me." 
 
 "Gladly will I do so," replied Owain. 
 
 "What is this?" said Peredur, pointing to the 
 saddle on one of the horses. 
 
 "That is a saddle," said Owain. 
 
 "What is this?" he said, pointing to the bridle 
 rein. 
 
 "That is a bridle," said Owain. 
 
 Then he asked Owain about all the accoutre- 
 
 85
 
 TOottoer Stones 
 
 ments which he saw upon the men and the horses, 
 and about the arms, and what they were for, and 
 how they were used. And Owain showed him all 
 these things fully, and told him what use was made 
 of them. 
 
 "Go forward," said Peredur, "for I saw such an 
 one as thou dost enquire for, and I will follow 
 thee." 
 
 Then Peredur returned to his mother and said 
 to her, "Mother, they were not angels, but honor- 
 able knights." 
 
 At this his mother's heart was so full of grief 
 and surprise that she swooned away. Then Pere- 
 dur went to the stables where they kept the horses 
 that carried firewood from the forest and that 
 brought meat and drink from the country around 
 the forest to his mother's house. Selecting a 
 bony piebald horse, which seemed to him the 
 strongest of them, he pressed a pack into the form 
 of a saddle, and with twisted twigs he imitated the 
 trappings which he had seen upon the horses of 
 Owain. And when he came again to his mother, 
 the Countess, he found that she had recovered from 
 her swoon, but her heart was full of grief for what 
 Peredur had seen and heard. 
 
 "My son," said the Countess, "desirest thou to 
 ride forth like the knights which thou didst see?" 
 
 "Yes, with thy leave," he replied. 
 
 "Wait, then," she said, "that I may counsel thee 
 before thou goest." 
 
 86
 
 ITtom tbe flDabtnogton 
 
 "I will do so willingly," he replied, "but please 
 speak quickly." 
 
 "Then," she said, "go forward to the court of 
 King Arthur, where there are the best and the 
 boldest and the most bountiful of men. And re- 
 member that wherever thou seest a church, re- 
 peat there thy Paternoster unto it. And if thou 
 hear an outcry of one in distress, proceed toward it, 
 especially if it be the outcry of a woman. And if 
 thou see meat and drink and need them, and no 
 one has the kindness or courtesy to give them to 
 thee, take them thyself. And if thou find a fair 
 jewel take it and give it to another, for thus thou 
 shall obtain praise of men. And if thou see a fair 
 woman, pay thy court to her with all courtesy; for 
 thus thou wilt win esteem and worship." 
 
 With this advice Peredur bade his mother adieu 
 and mounted his horse, and taking a handful of 
 sharp pointed forks in his hand, he rode forth 
 towards King Arthur's court. After two days 
 journey he came to a vast wildwood, and far with- 
 in the wood he saw a fair even glade, and in the 
 glade he saw a tent, and the tent seeming to him 
 to be a church, he said his Paternoster unto it. 
 Then he went towards the tent, and found the door 
 of the tent was open. Looking in the tent he saw 
 a golden chair near the door, and on the chair sat 
 a lovely auburn-haired maiden, with a golden 
 frontlet on her forehead, and sparkling stones in 
 the frontlet, and a large gold ring on her hand.
 
 TOonfcer 
 
 Then Peredur dismounted and went within the 
 tent; and the maiden seemed glad at his coming, 
 and bade him welcome. 
 
 At the entrance of the tent he saw food and two 
 full flasks of wine, and two loaves of fine wheaten 
 flour, and collops of the flesh of the wild boar. 
 
 "My mother told me," said Peredur, "that when 
 I saw meat and drink I should take it." 
 
 "Take the meat, and welcome, chieftain," said 
 the maiden. 
 
 So Peredur took half of the meat and the wine 
 for himself, and left the other half for the maiden. 
 And when he had finished eating, he bent upon his 
 knee before the maiden. 
 
 "My mother told me, also," said he, "that when 
 I saw a fair jewel, to take it." 
 
 "Do so, if you wish," said she. 
 
 So Peredur took the ring that was on the 
 maiden's hand and then mounted his horse and 
 proceeded on his journey. 
 
 Soon after this, behold the knight came to whom 
 the tent belonged; and he was the lord of the glade. 
 And seeing the track of a horse, he said to the 
 maiden, "Tell me who has been here since I was 
 absent." 
 
 "A man," said she, "with wonderful demeanor." 
 And she described to him the appearance and the 
 conduct of Peredur. 
 
 "Did he offer thee any wrong ?" said the lord. 
 
 88
 
 fftom tbe nDabinogion 
 
 "No," answered the maiden, "by my faith he did 
 not." 
 
 "By my faith I do not believe thee," he replied; 
 "and until I can meet him and revenge the insult 
 he has done me, thou shalt not remain two nights 
 in the same house." And the knight arose, and 
 set forth to seek Peredur. 
 
 Meanwhile, Peredur journeyed on toward King 
 Arthur's court. But before he reached it, another 
 knight had been there who gave a ring of thick 
 gold at the door of the gate to the porter for hold- 
 ing his horse, and went into the hall, where King 
 Arthur and his household and Queen Guinevere 
 and her maidens were assembled. As he entered 
 the page of the chamber was serving Queen 
 Guinevere with a golden goblet. Striding quickly 
 up to the queen the knight dashed the liquor that 
 was therein upon her face and said, "If any have 
 the boldness to dispute the goblet with me and to 
 revenge this insult to Queen Guinevere, let him 
 follow me to the meadow, and there will I await 
 him." 
 
 So saying the knight mounted his horse and 
 rode to the meadow. And all the household hung 
 down their heads, lest any of them should be re- 
 quested to go and avenge the insult to Queen 
 Guinevere. For they thought no one would have 
 dared to do such a deed unless he was possessed 
 with magic powers, so that he could take ven- 
 gence upon any one who dared to encounter him. 
 
 89
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 Just then, behold, Peredur entered the hall on 
 the bony piebald horse with the uncouth trappings 
 upon it; and in this way he traversed the whole 
 length of the hall. In the centre of the hall stood 
 the seneschal, Sir Kay. 
 
 "Tell me, tall man," said Peredur, "is that King 
 Arthur yonder?" 
 
 "What wouldst thou with King Arthur?" asked 
 Kay. 
 
 "My mother told me," replied Peredur, "to go 
 to Arthur and receive the honor of knighthood." 
 
 "By my faith," answered Kay, "thou art all too 
 meanly equipped with horse and with arms to re- 
 ceive this honor." Thereupon the youth was per- 
 ceived by all the household, and amused at his odd 
 appearance, they laughed at him and threw sticks 
 upon him. 
 
 Then, behold, a dwarf came forward, who with 
 a female dwarf had been a full year at King Ar- 
 thur's court; and neither of them had spoken a 
 single word to anyone. When the dwarf beheld 
 Peredur he said, "Ha, ha ! the welcome of Heaven 
 be unto thee, goodly Peredur, son of Evrawc, the 
 chief of warriors and the flower of knighthood." 
 
 "Truly," said Kay, speaking to the dwarf, "thou 
 art ill taught to remain mute at King Arthur's 
 court a year with choice of society; and now, be- 
 fore the face of King Arthur and his household to 
 declare such a man as this chief of warriors and the 
 flower of knighthood." And he gave the dwarf 
 
 90
 
 fftom tbe n&abinoaion 
 
 such a box on the ear that he fell senseless to 
 the ground. 
 
 At this the female dwarf cried out, "Ha, ha! 
 goodly Peredur, son of Evrawc; the welcome of 
 Heaven be unto thee, flower of knights and the 
 light of chivalry." 
 
 "Of a truth, maiden," said Kay, "thou art ill bred 
 to remain mute for a year at the court of King 
 Arthur, and then speak as thou dost of such a man 
 as this." And Kay kicked her with his foot, so 
 that she fell to the ground senseless. 
 
 Then said Peredur, "Tall man, show me which 
 is King Arthur." 
 
 "Hold thy peace," said Kay, "and go after the 
 knight who went hence to the meadow and take 
 from him the goblet, and overthrow him, and pos- 
 sess thyself of his horse and arms, and then thou 
 shalt receive the order of knighthood." 
 
 "I will do so, tall man," said Peredur. So he 
 turned his horse's head toward the meadow. And 
 when he came there the knight was riding up and 
 down, proud of his strength and valor and noble 
 mien. 
 
 "Tell me," said the knight, "didst thou see any 
 one coming after me from the court?" 
 
 "The tall man that was there," said Peredur, 
 "desired me to come and overthow thee, and to 
 take from thee the goblet and thy horse and armor 
 for myself." 
 
 "Go back to the court," said the knight, "and 
 
 9 1
 
 TKttonfcer Storte0 
 
 tell King Arthur either to come himself, or to send 
 some other to fight with me; and unless he do so 
 quickly I will not wait for him." 
 
 "By my faith," said Peredur, "choose thou 
 whether it shall be willingly or unwillingly, but I 
 will have the horse and the arms and the goblet." 
 
 Upon this the knight ran at him furiously, and 
 struck him a violent blow with the shaft of his spear 
 between the neck and shoulder. 
 
 "Ha, ha! lad," said Peredur, "my mother's ser- 
 vants were not used to play with me in this wise; 
 therefore thus will I play with thee." And there- 
 upon he struck him with a sharp-pointed fork, and 
 it hit him in the eye and came out at the back of 
 the neck, so that he instantly fell down lifeless. 
 
 When Peredur left the court, Owain said to Kay, 
 "Verily thou wert ill-advised when thou didst send 
 that madman after the insulting knight. For one 
 of two things must befall him; he must be either 
 overthrown or slain. If he is overthrown, the 
 knight will be counted by him to be an honorable 
 person of the court, and an eternal disgrace will 
 it be to King Arthur and his warriors. And if he 
 is slain, the disgrace will be the same; and more- 
 over the sin will be upon him; therefore will I go 
 and see what has befallen him." 
 
 So Owain went to the meadow, and there he 
 saw Peredur dragging the man about. "What art 
 thou doing," said Owain. 
 
 92
 
 fftom tbc 
 
 "This iron coat will never come off him, at least 
 not by my efforts," answered Peredur. 
 
 Then Owain unfastened the armor, saying, 
 "Here, my good soul, is a horse and armor better 
 than thine. Take them joyfully, and come with 
 me to King Arthur to receive the order of knight- 
 hood, for thou dost merit it." 
 
 "May I never show my face again, if I go," said 
 Peredur. "But take thou the goblet to Queen 
 Guinevere and tell King Arthur that wherever I 
 am I will be his vassal and will do him what profit 
 and service I am able. And say that I will not 
 come to court until I have encountered the tall 
 man that is there, to revenge the injury he did to 
 the dwarf and the dwarfess." 
 
 So Owain went back to the court and related all 
 these things to King Arthur and Queen Guinevere 
 and to all the household; and they were all amazed 
 at his words and at the valiant deeds of the young 
 knight. 
 
 And Peredur rode forward; and as he proceeded 
 behold a knight met him. 
 
 "Whence comest thou?" said the knight. 
 
 "I come from King Arthur's court," replied 
 Peredur. 
 
 "Art thou one of his men?" said the knight. 
 
 "Yes, by my faith," he answered. 
 
 "Well, I have always been King Arthur's en- 
 emy," said the knight, "and all such of his men that 
 I have ever encountered I have slain." So saying 
 
 93
 
 Monger Stories 
 
 he rushed upon Peredur, who met him right val- 
 iantly, and it was not long before Peredur brought 
 him to the ground. Then the knight besought his 
 mercy. 
 
 "Mercy shalt thou have," said Peredur, "if thou 
 wilt make oath to me that thou wilt go to King 
 Arthur's court, and tell him that it was I that over- 
 threw thee, for the honor of his service; and say 
 that I will never come to his court until I have 
 avenged the insult offered to the dwarf and the 
 dwarfess." 
 
 The knight, glad to be released on such easy 
 terms, willingly pledged him his faith to do as he 
 was bidden, and then proceeded to the court of 
 King Arthur, and said as he had promised and con- 
 veyed the threat to Kay. 
 
 Again Peredur rode forward ; and within a week 
 he encountered sixteen knights and overthrew 
 them all. And they all went to King Arthur's 
 court, taking with them the same message which 
 the first knight had conveyed from Peredur, and 
 the same threat which he had sent to Kay. And 
 thereupon Kay was reproved by King Arthur, at 
 which Kay was greatly grieved.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 HOW PEREDUR RESCUED A FAIR LADY 
 
 AND Peredur rode forward until he came to 
 a lake at the shore of which was a fair 
 castle. On the border of the lake he 
 saw a venerable hoary-headed man, clothed in vel- 
 vet and sitting upon a velvet cushion. When the 
 aged man saw Peredur approaching he arose and 
 went toward the castle; and Peredur rode on to 
 the palace and as the door was opened he entered 
 the hall. There he saw the aged man seated upon 
 a cushion and a large blazing fire burning before 
 him. 
 
 The man asked Peredur to come and sit upon 
 the cushion with him; and they sat there and con- 
 versed together. When it was time, the tables 
 were laid, and they went to meat. When they had 
 finished their meal, the man asked Peredur if he 
 knew well how to fight with the sword. 
 
 To this the youth replied "I know not, but were 
 I to be taught, doubtless I should learn." 
 
 "Whoever can play well with the cudgel and 
 shield will also be able to fight with the sword," 
 said the man. 
 
 Now the man had two sons; the one had yellow 
 
 95
 
 Monger Stories 
 
 hair and the other auburn hair. And the aged 
 man said to his sons, "Arise, youths, and play with 
 the cudgel and the shield," and so they did. 
 
 And after they had played awhile the man said, 
 "Which of the youths thinkest thou plays the bet- 
 ter?" 
 
 "I think," said Peredur, "that the yellow haired 
 youth could draw blood from the other, if he 
 chose." 
 
 "Arise thou then and take the cudgel and the 
 shield from the hand of the youth with the auburn 
 hair, and draw blood from the yellow haired youth 
 if thou canst," said the man. 
 
 So Peredur arose and went to play with the yel- 
 low haired youth; and he lifted up his arm and 
 struck him such a mighty blow that his brow fell 
 over his eye and the blood gushed forth. 
 
 "Ah, my life," said the man. "Come now and 
 sit down by me, for I see that thou wilt become 
 the best fighter with the sword on this island. I 
 am thy uncle, thy mother's brother; and thou 
 shalt live with me awhile to learn the manners and 
 customs of different countries, and such gentleness 
 and noble bearing as doth become a knight. Leave 
 thou the habits of thy youth, and I will be thy 
 teacher; and I will raise thee to the rank of knight 
 from this time forward." And so his uncle taught 
 him many acts of knightly gentleness and courtesy. 
 
 Soon after Peredur took his horse and with his 
 uncle's permission rode forth again. And he came 
 
 96
 
 ffrom tbe nDabiuogton 
 
 to a vast desert wood, and on the further side of 
 the wood was a meadow, and on the further side 
 of the meadow was a large castle. Thither he 
 bent his way and found the gate open and went 
 into the hall. And there he beheld a stately hoary- 
 headed man sitting on one side of the hall with 
 many pages around him, and the man arose to re- 
 ceive Peredur. And they placed him beside the 
 owner of the palace. Then they talked together 
 for awhile, and when it was time to eat they caused 
 Peredur to sit beside the nobleman during the re- 
 past. 
 
 When they had eaten as much as they desired, 
 the nobleman asked Peredur whether he could 
 fight with a sword. 
 
 "Were I to receive instruction," said Peredur, 
 "I think I could." 
 
 Now there was on the floor of the hall a huge 
 staple of iron, as large as a warrior could grasp. 
 "Take that sword," said the man," and strike the 
 iron staple." 
 
 Then Peredur arose and took the sword and 
 struck the staple, so that he cut it in two; and the 
 sword broke into two parts also. 
 
 "Place the two parts together and reunite 
 them," said the man. 
 
 So Peredur placed them together, and they be- 
 came united as before. And a second time he 
 struck upon the staple, so that both it and the 
 sword broke in two, and as before he reunited 
 
 97
 
 THHonfcer Stories 
 
 them. And the third time he gave a like blow 
 and placed the broken parts together, but neither 
 the staple nor the sword would reunite as before. 
 
 Then the man said, "Youth, come now and sit 
 down, and my blessing be upon thee. Thou fight- 
 est better with the sword than any man in the 
 kingdom, and when thou art older and hast at- 
 tained to thy full power, none will be able to con- 
 tend with thee." 
 
 "I am thy uncle," he said, "and brother to the 
 man in whose house thou didst stay the night be- 
 fore." 
 
 Then Peredur and his uncle discoursed to- 
 gether; and as they talked there came two youths 
 into the hall bearing a spear of mighty size, with 
 three streams of blood flowing from the point to 
 the ground. When all the company saw this they 
 began wailing and lamenting. And when the 
 clamor had a little subsided, behold two maidens 
 entered with a large salver between them, on 
 which was a man's head surrounded by a profusion 
 of blood. And there was again a great outcry, but 
 at length they were all silent. And when it was 
 time that they should sleep, Peredur was led into 
 a fair chamber where he spent the night. 
 
 The next day, with his uncle's permission, Pere- 
 dur rode forth. And he came to a wood, and far 
 within the wood he heard a loud cry, and he saw 
 a beautiful woman with auburn hair, and a horse 
 with a saddle upon it standing near her, and a
 
 ITrom tbe fDabtnooion 
 
 corpse by her side. As she strove to place the 
 body of the knight upon the horse, it fell to the 
 ground, and thereupon she made great lamenta- 
 tion. 
 
 "Tell me, sister," said Peredur, "wherefore art 
 thou bewailing?" 
 
 "Oh! accursed Peredur! Little pity has my ill 
 fortune ever met with from thee." 
 
 "Wherefore," said Peredur, "am I accursed?" 
 
 "Because thou wast the cause of thy mother's 
 death; for when thou didst ride forth against her 
 will, anguish seized upon her heart, so that she 
 died; and therefore thou art accursed. And the 
 dwarf and the dwarfess that thou sawest at Ar- 
 thur's court were the dwarfs of thy father and 
 mother. I am thy foster sister, and this was my 
 wedded husband, and he was slain by the knight 
 that is in the glade of the wood. And do not thou 
 go near him, lest thou shouldst be slain by him 
 likewise." 
 
 "My sister," answered Peredur, "thou dost re- 
 proach me wrongfully; for through my remaining 
 so long amongst you I shall scarcely be able to 
 vanquish him; and had I continued longer with you 
 it would have been impossible for me to succeed. 
 Cease therefore thy lamenting, and I will bury the 
 body of thy husband and then go in quest of the 
 knight and see if I can do vengeance upon him." 
 
 When he had buried the body, they went to the 
 place where the knight was, and found him riding 
 
 99
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 proudly along the glade; and he inquired of Pere- 
 dur whence he came. 
 
 "I came from King Arthur's court," said Pere- 
 dur. 
 
 "Art thou one of King Arthur's men?" asked 
 the knight. 
 
 "Yes, by my faith," said Peredur. 
 
 Then without further parlance they fell to, and 
 immediately Peredur overthrew the knight, and 
 he besought mercy of Peredur. 
 
 "Mercy shalt thou have upon these terms," said 
 Peredur, "that thou take this woman in marriage, 
 and do her all honor and reverence, and go to 
 King Arthur's court and tell him that it was I that 
 sent you, and tell him I never will come to his 
 court again until I have met the tall man that is 
 there and taken vengeance upon him for his insult 
 to the dwarf and the dwarfess." 
 
 So the knight provided the lady with a horse and 
 garments suitable to her, and took her with him 
 to King Arthur's court. And he told King Arthur 
 all that had occurred, and gave the defiance to 
 Kay. And King Arthur and all his household re- 
 proved Kay for having driven such a youth as 
 Peredur from his court. 
 
 And Owain said, "This youth will never come 
 into the court until Kay has gone forth from it." 
 
 "By my faith," said King Arthur, "I will search 
 all the deserts in the Island of Britain, until I find 
 
 100
 
 fftom tbe flDalrinoofon 
 
 Peredur, and then let him and his adversary do 
 their utmost to each other." 
 
 Then again Peredur rode forward, and came to 
 a desert wood, at the upper end of which he saw 
 a great castle, wherein were many strong towers. 
 So he rode to the castle and entered the hall, and 
 there he saw eighteen youths, lean and red-headed, 
 each of the same height and aspect, and of the 
 same dress. And they were all well skilled in cour- 
 tesy and in service. 
 
 The youths disarrayed him and then sat down 
 to discourse with him. Thereupon, behold five 
 maidens came from the chamber into the hall; and 
 Peredur thought that he had never seen any one 
 so fair as the chief of the maidens. Her skin was 
 whiter than the bloom of crystal, and her hair and 
 eyebrows were blacker than jet, and on her cheeks 
 were two red spots, redder than whatever is red- 
 dest. The maiden welcomed Peredur, and put 
 her arms about his neck, and made him sit down 
 beside her. And when they went to meat Peredur 
 observed that the maiden wished to give him more 
 of the food and liquor than was given to any other. 
 
 When it was time to sleep, a chamber was pre- 
 pared for Peredur, and he went to rest. Then the 
 young men said to the fairest of the maidens that 
 she should go to the chamber and offer to become 
 the wife of the youth. But she replied that this 
 would be unfitting, unless she first should be 
 wooed by him. To this the youths replied that un- 
 
 IOI
 
 Waonber Storied 
 
 less she should do as they had said, they would 
 leave her with her enemies to do with her as they 
 would. Then, through fear, the maiden went forth, 
 and shedding many tears proceeded to the cham- 
 ber where Peredur was sleeping. At the voice of 
 her weeping, Peredur awoke and said, 
 
 "Tell me, my sister, wherefore dost thou weep?" 
 
 "I will tell thee, lord," she answered. 
 
 Then she told him how her father had possessed 
 this palace and one of the best earldoms in the 
 kingdom, and that the son of another earl sought 
 her for a wife, and her father would not give her 
 against her will ; but now that her father was dead, 
 the young earl had made war upon her and taken 
 all her possessions except the palace in which they 
 were, and that to-morrow the earl was to come 
 against the palace with all his forces. 
 
 "And if I fall into his power," she said, "my fate 
 will be no better than to be given over to the 
 grooms of his horses. Therefore I come to place 
 myself in thy hands that thou mayest succor me, 
 either by taking me hence or by defending me 
 here as may seem best unto thee." 
 
 When he heard this Peredur said, "Go, my sis- 
 ter, and sleep; nor will I depart from thee until 
 I prove whether I can assist thee or not." 
 
 Then the maiden went again to rest, and the 
 next morning she came again to Peredur and sa- 
 luted him. 
 
 I O2
 
 jftom tbe 
 
 "Heaven prosper thee," said Peredur, "but what 
 tidings dost thou bring?" 
 
 "None other," she replied, "but that the earl 
 with all his forces has alighted at the gate." 
 
 "Truly," said Peredur, "let my horse be made 
 ready." 
 
 So his horse was accoutred, and he mounted 
 it and sallied forth to the meadow. There he saw 
 a knight riding proudly along the meadow, having 
 raised the signal for battle. Then Peredur rode 
 forward and met him, and with his spear threw 
 him over his horse's crupper to the ground. 
 
 Near the close of day, one of the chief knights 
 came to fight with him, and he overthrew him also 
 so that he besought mercy. 
 
 Then said Peredur, "Who art thou?" 
 
 "Verily," said he, "I am master of the house- 
 hold to the Earl." 
 
 "How much of the maiden's possessions is there 
 in thy power?" 
 
 "The third part, verily," he replied. 
 
 "Then," said Peredur, "restore to her the third 
 part of her possessions in full, and all the profit 
 thou hast made of it, and offer to be her captive, 
 unless she wish to take thy life." 
 
 This the knight did forthwith. And that night 
 the maiden was right joyful, and they all fared 
 plenteously. 
 
 The next day Peredur rode forth to the meadow, 
 and that day he vanquished a multitude of the 
 
 103
 
 "Cdonfccr Stories 
 
 hosts. At the close of day there came riding in 
 the field a proud and stately knight; and Peredur 
 met him and overthrew him so that he besought 
 his mercy. 
 
 "Who art thou ?" said Peredur. 
 
 "I am the steward of the palace," said he. 
 
 "And how much of the maiden's possessions is 
 under thy control?" 
 
 "One third part," he answered. 
 
 "Verily," said Peredur, "thou shalt fully re- 
 store to the maiden her possessions, and moreover 
 thou shalt give her meat and drink for two hun- 
 dred men and their horses; and for thyself, thou 
 shalt be her captive." 
 
 And immediately it was done as Peredur had 
 ordered. 
 
 On the third day Peredur rode forth again to 
 the meadow, and vanquished many more than on 
 either of the preceding days. And at the close of 
 day, an earl came to encounter him, and he over- 
 threw the earl so that he besought mercy. 
 
 "Who art thou?" said Peredur. 
 
 "I am the Earl," he said; "I will not conceal it 
 from thee." 
 
 "Then," said Peredur, "thou shalt restore the 
 whole of the maiden's earldom, and shalt give her 
 thine own earldom in addition thereto, and meat 
 and drink for three hundred men; and thou thy- 
 self shalt remain in her power." And thus it was 
 fulfilled. 
 
 104
 
 fftom tbe flDabinogfon 
 
 And after this Peredur tarried three weeks in 
 the country, causing tribute and obedience to be 
 paid to the maiden, and the government to be 
 placed in her hands. 
 
 Then he said to the maiden, "Now with thy 
 leave I must go hence." 
 
 "Verily, my brother," replied the maiden, "de- 
 sirest thou this ?" 
 
 "Yes, by my faith," he replied, "and had it not 
 been for my love for thee, I would not have been 
 here so long." 
 
 "My soul," said she, "who art thou?" 
 
 "I am Peredur, the son of Evrawc, and if ever 
 thou art in trouble or in danger, acquaint me there- 
 with, and if I can I will protect thee." 
 
 And then Peredur rode forth again, leaving the 
 maiden very sad that she must part with him, for 
 she had hoped that he might ask her to be his bride. 
 
 105
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 HOW PEREDUR AVENGED HIMSELF ON SIR KAY 
 
 NOW as Peredur rode he came to a castle. 
 And he struck upon the gate with his 
 lance, and behold an auburn-haired youth 
 opened the gate, and he had the stature of a war- 
 rior and the years of a boy. As Peredur came into 
 the hall, he saw there a tall and stately lady sitting 
 in a chair, and many hand-maidens around her; 
 and the lady seemed happy at his coming. She 
 saluted him with great courtesy, and when it was 
 time they went to supper. 
 
 After their repast was finished, the lady said, "It 
 were well for thee, chieftain, to go elsewhere to 
 sleep." 
 
 "Wherefore," Peredur said, "can I not sleep 
 here?" 
 
 "Because," she answered, "nine sorceresses are 
 in this castle, and unless we can make our escape 
 before daybreak we shall be slain, for already they 
 have laid waste all the country except this castle." 
 
 "Behold," said Peredur, "I shall remain here 
 to-night, and if you are in trouble, I will do you 
 what service I can, but no harm shall you receive 
 from me." 
 
 1 06
 
 Jtom tbe flDabfnofltort 
 
 So they all went to rest, and at the break of day 
 Peredur heard a dreadful outcry. And he arose 
 hastily, and went forth in his vest and doublet, with 
 his sword about his neck; and he saw a sorceress 
 overtake one of the watch, who cried out violently. 
 Then Peredur attacked the sorceress, and struck 
 her upon the head with his sword so that he flat- 
 tened her helmet like a dish upon her head. 
 
 At this she cried out, "Mercy, goodly Peredur, 
 son of Evrawc, I cry thee for mercy." 
 
 "How knowest thou, hag, that I am Peredur." 
 
 "By destiny, and the fore-knowledge that I am 
 to suffer harm from thee," she said. 
 
 "Thou shalt have mercy," Peredur replied, "if 
 thou wilt pledge thy faith that thou wilt never- 
 more injure the dominions of the Countess." 
 
 And Peredur took surety of this, and with the 
 permission of the Countess he set forth with the 
 sorceress to the palace of the sorceresses. And 
 there he remained for three weeks, and then he 
 made a choice of a horse and arms and went his 
 way, and in the evening he entered a valley, and at 
 the head of the valley he came to a hermit's cell, 
 and the hermit welcomed him gladly, and he spent 
 the night there. And in the morning he arose, and 
 when he went forth, behold a shower of snow 
 had fallen the night before, and a hawk had killed 
 'a wild fowl in front of the cell. The noise of the 
 horse had scared the hawk away, and a raven had 
 alighted on the bird. And Peredur stood and 
 
 107
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 compared the blackness of the raven, and the 
 whiteness of the snow, and the redness of the blood 
 to the hair of the lady he loved best, which was 
 blacker than jet, and to her skin which was whiter 
 than snow, and to the two red spots upon her 
 cheeks which were redder than the blood upon 
 the new fallen snow. 
 
 Now King Arthur and his knights were in 
 search of Peredur; and as they came that way and 
 saw him thus standing in thought, King Arthur 
 said: 
 
 "Know ye who is the knight with a long spear 
 that stands by the brook up yonder?" 
 
 "Lord," said one of them, "I will go and learn 
 who he is." 
 
 So the youth came to the place where Peredur 
 was standing, and asked him who he was and why 
 he stood thus in thought. But so intensely was 
 he thinking of the lady whom he loved that Pere- 
 dur gave the youth no answer. Then the youth 
 thrust at Peredur with his lance; and Peredur 
 turned upon him and struck him over his horse's 
 crupper to the ground. And after this, four and 
 twenty youths came to him, and he gave the same 
 reception to them all, bringing them with a single 
 thrust to the ground. 
 
 Then came Kay and spoke to Peredur rudely 
 and angrily, at which Peredur took him with his 
 lance under the jaw, and cast him from him with 
 a thrust, so that he broke his arm and his shoulder 
 
 108
 
 Jtom tbc 
 
 blade, and then he rode over him one and twenty 
 times. 
 
 Now while Kay lay thus stunned with the vio- 
 lence of the pain, his horse returned to the palace 
 at a wild and prancing pace. When the household 
 saw the horse come back without the rider, they 
 rode forth in haste to where the encounter had 
 taken place, and there they found Kay, and at first 
 they thought that he was slain ; but afterward they 
 thought that if he had a skillful physician he yet 
 might live. So they brought Kay to King Arthur's 
 tent, and the King caused skillful physicians to 
 care for him. And King Arthur was grieved that 
 Kay had met with this reverse, for he loved him 
 greatly. 
 
 During all this while Peredur moved not from 
 his meditation, at which they all marvelled. But 
 Gawaine said, "It is not fitting that an humble 
 knight should be disturbed from his thought, for 
 he may be reflecting on some damage he hath 
 sustained, or perhaps he may be thinking of the 
 lady he best loves. And if it seems best to thee, 
 Lord Arthur, I will go and speak to him and ask 
 him courteously to come and visit thee." 
 
 At this Kay was wroth, and spoke angry and 
 spiteful words, saying that the knight was weary 
 with fighting, and to bring him now would give 
 no honor to Gawaine. 
 
 To this Gawaine replied, "Thou mightest use 
 more pleasant words, for it behooveth thee not 
 
 109
 
 TOonfcer Storied 
 
 to wreak thy wrath upon me for thy overthrow. 
 Methinks I shall bring the knight thither with me 
 without breaking either my arm or my shoulder." 
 
 Then said King Arthur to Gawaine, "Thou 
 speakest like a wise and prudent man. Go, and 
 take enough of armor about thee, and choose thy 
 horse." 
 
 So Gawaine accoutered himself and rode for- 
 ward hastily to the place where Peredur was. And 
 Peredur was resting on the shaft of his spear, still 
 pondering the same thought. Gawaine came to 
 him without any signs of hostility, and said to him, 
 
 "If I thought that it would be as agreeable to 
 thee as to me, I would converse with thee. I 
 have also a message from King Arthur unto thee, 
 to pray thee to come and visit him. And two men 
 have been before on this errand." 
 
 "That is true," said Peredur, "and uncourteously 
 they came. They attacked me, and I was annoyed 
 thereat, for it was not pleasing to me to be drawn 
 from the thought that I was in, for I was thinking 
 of the lady whom best I love, and she was brought 
 to my mind as I was looking upon the snow and 
 upon the raven, and upon the drops of blood upon 
 the snow. And I bethought me that her white- 
 ness was like that of the snow, and the blackness 
 of her hair and her eyebrows like that of the raven, 
 and that the two red spots upon her cheeks were 
 like the two drops of blood." 
 
 "That was not an ungentle thought," said Ga- 
 
 no
 
 From the flDabinogion 
 
 waine, "and I should marvel if it were pleasant to 
 thee to be drawn from it." 
 
 "Tell me," said Peredur, "is Kay in King Ar- 
 thur's court?" 
 
 "He is," replied Gawain, "and behold he is the 
 knight that fought thee last; and it would have 
 been better for him had he not come, for his arm 
 and his shoulder blade were broken with the blow 
 which he had from thy spear." 
 
 "Verily," said Peredur, "I am not sorry to have 
 thus begun to avenge the insult to the dwarf and 
 dwarfess." 
 
 Then Gawaine marvelled to hear him speak of 
 the dwarf and the dwarfess. And he approached 
 him and threw his arms around his neck, and asked 
 him what was his name. 
 
 "Peredur, the son of Evrawc, am I called," said 
 he, "and who art thou?" 
 
 "I am called Gawaine," he replied. 
 
 "I am right glad to meet with thee," said Pere- 
 dur, "for in every country where I have been, I 
 have heard of thy fame for prowess and upright- 
 ness, and I solicit thy fellowship." 
 
 "Thou shalt have it, by my faith; and grant me 
 thine," said he. 
 
 "Gladly will I do so," answered Peredur. 
 
 So they rode forth together joyfully toward the 
 place where King Arthur was, and when Kay saw 
 them coming, he said, "I knew that Gawaine 
 needed not to fight the knight; and it is no wonder 
 
 III
 
 TOlonber Stories 
 
 that he should gain fame, for more can he do by 
 his fair words, than I by the strength of my arm." 
 
 And Peredur went with Gawaine to his tent, 
 and they took off their armor, and Peredur put 
 on garments like those that Gawaine wore; and 
 then they went together unto King Arthur and 
 saluted him. 
 
 "Behold, lord," said Gawaine, "him whom thou 
 hast sought so long." 
 
 "Welcome unto thee, chieftain," said King Ar- 
 thur. "With me thou shalt remain, and had I 
 known thy valor had been such, thou shouldst not 
 have left me as thou didst; nevertheless, this was 
 predicted of thee by the dwarf and dwarfess, whom 
 Kay ill treated, and whom thou hast avenged." 
 
 And thereupon there came the Queen and her 
 hand-maidens; and Peredur saluted them. And 
 they were all rejoiced to see him, and bade him 
 welcome. And King Arthur did him great honor 
 and respect, and they returned to Caerleon. 
 
 112
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 HOW PEREDUR WON HIS LADY LOVE 
 
 ON the night Peredur came to King Arthur's 
 court, after the evening meal, he walked 
 in the city. And behold there met him a 
 fair maiden named Angharad Law Evrawc. 
 
 As Peredur saw her, he said, "By my faith, sis- 
 ter, thou art a beauteous and a lovely maiden; and 
 were it pleasing to thee I could love thee above 
 all women." 
 
 "I pledge my faith," she said, "that I do not love 
 thee, nor will I ever do so." 
 
 "I also pledge my faith," said Peredur, "that I 
 will never speak a word to any Christian again, 
 until thou come to love me above all men." 
 
 The next day Peredur went forth by the high 
 road, along a mountain ridge, and he saw a valley 
 of a circular form, the confines of which were rocky 
 and wooded. And the flat part of the valley was 
 in meadows, and there were fields betwixt the 
 meadows and the wood. And in the bosom of the 
 wood he saw large black houses of uncouth work- 
 manship. And he dismounted and led his horse 
 toward the wood. 
 
 A little way within the wood he saw a rocky 
 
 113
 
 TOonber Stories 
 
 ledge along which the road lay. And upon the 
 ledge was a lion, bound by a chain and sleeping. 
 And beneath the lion he saw a deep pit of immense 
 size, full of the bones of men and animals. And 
 Peredur drew his sword and struck the lion so 
 that he fell into the mouth of the pit and hung 
 there by the chain, and with a second blow he 
 struck the chain and broke it, and the lion fell into 
 the pit. 
 
 Then Peredur led his horse over the rocky 
 ledge, until he came into the valley. In the centre 
 of the valley he saw a fine castle, and he went 
 toward it. And in the meadow by the castle he 
 beheld a huge gray man sitting, who was larger 
 than any man he had ever seen before. And two 
 young pages were smoothing the hilts of their 
 daggers, made of the bones of the seahorse. One of 
 the pages had red hair, and the other auburn hair. 
 And they went before him to the place where the 
 gray man was, and Peredur saluted him. And the 
 gray man said, "Disgrace to the beard of my por- 
 ter." Then Peredur understood that the porter 
 was the lion. 
 
 And the gray man and the pages went together 
 unto the castle, and Peredur accompanied them, 
 and he found it a fair and noble place. And they 
 proceeded to the hall, and the tables were already 
 laid, and upon them was an abundance of food and 
 liquor. And thereupon he saw an aged woman 
 and a young woman come from the chambers, and 
 
 114
 
 Jftom tbe flDabfnosiott 
 
 they were the most stately women he had ever 
 seen. Then they washed and went to meat; and 
 the gray man sat at the upper seat at the end of 
 the table, and the aged woman sat next to him. 
 And Peredur and the maiden were placed together, 
 and the two young pages served them. 
 
 As they ate the maiden gazed steadfastly upon 
 Peredur and wept. And Peredur asked the 
 maiden wherefore she was sad and weeping. To 
 which the maiden said, "I am sad that so gentle a 
 youth should have so sad a doom as awaits thee 
 to-morrow. Sawest thou the numerous black 
 horses in the bosom of the wood? All these be- 
 long to the vassals of the gray man yonder, who 
 is my father. And they are all giants; and to-mor- 
 row they will rise up against thee and will slay 
 thee. And the Round Valley is this valley called." 
 
 "I thank thee, fair maiden," said Peredur, "for 
 thy kindness; and now I ask wilt thou contrive that 
 my horse and arms shall be in the same lodging 
 with me to-night?" 
 
 "Gladly will I cause it to be so," she replied, "if 
 I can." 
 
 When it was time for them to sleep rather than 
 carouse, they went to rest. And the maiden 
 caused Peredur's horse and arms to be in the same 
 lodging with him. And the next morning Pere- 
 dur heard a great tumult of men and horses about 
 the castle. And he arose and armed himself and 
 his horse, and went to the meadow. 
 
 "5
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 Then the aged woman and the maiden came 
 to the gray man and said, "Lord, take the word of 
 the young man that he will never disclose what he 
 hath seen in this place, and we will be his sureties 
 that he keep it." 
 
 "I will not do so, by my faith," said the gray 
 man. "For we shall set upon him and slay him." 
 
 So Peredur was compelled to fight with the 
 gray man and his hosts; and toward evening he had 
 slain one-third of them without receiving any hurt 
 himself. Then said the aged woman to the gray 
 man, "Behold, many of thy host have been slain 
 by the youth; do thou therefore grant him mercy." 
 
 "I will not grant it by my faith," said he. 
 
 The aged woman and the fair maiden were upon 
 the battlements of the castle looking forth at the 
 battle; and at that juncture Peredur encountered 
 the yellow haired youth and slew him. At this the 
 maiden said, "Lord, grant the young man mercy." 
 
 "That will I not do, by Heaven," he replied. 
 Therewith Peredur attacked the auburn-haired 
 youth and slew him likewise. 
 
 Then the maiden said, "It were better thou 
 hadst accorded mercy to the youth before he had 
 slain both of thy sons; for now scarcely wilt thou 
 thyself escape from him." 
 
 To this the gray man replied, "Go, maiden, and 
 beseech the youth to grant mercy unto us, for 
 we yield ourselves into his hands." 
 
 So the maiden came to the place where Peredur 
 
 116
 
 Jrom tbe flDabinoQion 
 
 was, and besought mercy for her father and for 
 such of his vassals as had escaped alive. "Thou 
 shalt have it on condition," said Peredur, "that thy 
 father and all that are under him go and render 
 homage to King Arthur; and tell him that it was 
 his vassal Peredur that did him this service." 
 
 "This will he do willingly," said the maiden. 
 
 "And you shall also receive baptism," said Pere- 
 dur; "and I will send to King Arthur and beseech 
 him to bestow this valley upon thee and upon thy 
 heirs after thee forever." 
 
 Then they went in, and the gray man and the 
 tall woman saluted Peredur. And the gray man 
 said unto him, "Since I have possessed this valley 
 I have not seen any Christian depart with his life, 
 save thyself. And we will go to do homage to 
 King Arthur and embrace his faith and be bap- 
 tized." 
 
 Then said Peredur, "I render thanks to Heaven 
 that I have not broken my vow to the lady that 
 I love best, which was, that I would not speak one 
 word unto any Christian until she gave me her 
 love." 
 
 That night they tarried there; and the next day 
 in the morning the gray man and his company set 
 forth to King Arthur's court. And they did 
 homage to King Arthur, and he caused them to be 
 baptized. And the gray man told King Arthur 
 that it was Peredur that had vanquished them. 
 And the King gave the valley to the gray man 
 
 117
 
 and his company to hold it as Peredur had be- 
 sought. And with King Arthur's permission, the 
 gray man went back to the Round Valley. 
 
 And Peredur rode forward again the next day, 
 and he traversed a vast tract of desert in which no 
 dwellings were. And at length he came to a habi- 
 tation which was mean and small. And there he 
 heard that there was a serpent that lay upon a 
 gold ring, and suffered none to inhabit the country 
 for seven miles around. And Peredur came to the 
 place where he heard the serpent was. And angrily 
 and furiously and desperately he fought with the 
 serpent; and at last he killed it, and took away 
 the ring. 
 
 And thus he continued for a long time without 
 speaking a word to any Christian. And therefore 
 he lost his color and his aspect through extreme 
 longing for King Arthur's court and his com- 
 panions and the society of the lady whom best he 
 loved. At length he proceeded forward to King 
 Arthur's court, and in the wood there met him 
 King Arthur's household going on a particular er- 
 rand, with Kay at their head. And Peredur knew 
 them all, but none of the household recognized 
 him. 
 
 Then Kay spoke to him saying, "Whence com- 
 est thou, chieftain ?" And thus he asked him twice 
 and three times, but Peredur answered him not. 
 And then Kay thrust him through the thigh with 
 his lance; and lest he should be compelled to speak 
 
 118
 
 from tbe HDabinogfon 
 
 and thus to break his vow, he went on without 
 stopping. 
 
 Then said Gawaine, "I declare to Heaven, Kay, 
 that thou hast acted ill in committing such an out- 
 rage on a youth like this who cannot speak." 
 
 And Gawaine returned to King Arthur's court 
 and said to Queen Guinevere, "Seest thou how 
 wicked an outrage Kay has committed upon the 
 youth, who cannot speak; for Heaven's sake and 
 for mine, I pray thee, cause him to have medical 
 care before I come back, and I will repay thee the 
 charge." 
 
 And before the men returned from the errand, 
 a strange knight came to the meadow beside King 
 Arthur's palace, to dare some one to encounter 
 with him. And his challenge was accepted; and 
 Peredur fought with him and overthrew him. And 
 for a week he overthrew one knight every day. 
 And thus for a long while every knight that came 
 that way and offered battle was overthrown by 
 Peredur. And yet he never spoke and for this he 
 went by the name of the Dumb Youth. And no 
 one knew who he was. 
 
 And behold one day Angharad Law Evrawc met 
 him. Pleased with his comely appearance and 
 knowing his many brave deeds, she said, "I declare 
 to Heaven, chieftain, woeful is it that thou canst 
 not speak; for couldst thou speak, I would love 
 thee best of all men; and by my. faith, even though 
 thou canst not speak, I do love thee above all." 
 
 119
 
 Wicmfcer Stories 
 
 "Heaven reward thee, my sister," said Peredur, 
 "for by my faith I do also love thee. And I have 
 kept my word never to speak to any Christian un- 
 til thou givest me thy love." 
 
 Thereupon it was known that he was Peredur. 
 And thus he won the fair Angharad for his bride. 
 And for many days he remained at King Arthur's 
 court, having punished Kay for his insult to the 
 dwarf and dwarf ess; and there he held fellowship 
 with Gawaine and with Owain the son of Urien, 
 and with all the household of the King. 
 
 120
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 HOW PEREDUR SLEW THE SERPENT ADDANC 
 
 IT chanced that King Arthur went to hunt, and 
 Peredur went also. And Peredur let loose 
 his dog upon a hart, and the dog chased 
 the hart and killed it. And as Peredur fol- 
 lowed the chase he saw signs of a dwelling; and he 
 went towards the dwelling, and when he came to 
 it he beheld a hall, and at the door of the hall he 
 found some strong swarthy youths playing at 
 chess. And when he entered the hall he beheld 
 three maidens sitting on a bench, and they were 
 all clothed alike, and as became persons of high 
 rank. And he went and sat by them on the bench. 
 
 One of the maidens looked at him steadfastly 
 and her face was sad and her eyes were filled with 
 tears. And Peredur asked her wherefore she was 
 weeping. "Through grief," she replied, "that I 
 should see so fair a youth as thou art slain." 
 
 "Who will slay me?" inquired Peredur. 
 
 "If thou art so daring as to remain here to- 
 night," she answered, "I will tell thee." 
 
 "How great soever my danger may be in re- 
 maining here, I will listen to you," said Peredur. 
 
 Then the maiden said, "This palace is owned 
 
 121
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 by him who is my father, and he slays every one 
 who comes hither without his leave. 
 
 "What sort of a man is thy father that he is able 
 to slay every one ?" asked Peredur. 
 
 "A man, I regret to say," she replied, "who does 
 wrong unto his neighbors, and who renders justice 
 to none." 
 
 And hereupon he saw the youths arise and clear 
 the chessmen from the board. And he heard a 
 great tumult; and after the tumult there came in 
 a huge, black, one-eyed man, and the maidens 
 arose to meet him. And they disarrayed him, and 
 he went and sat down; and after he had rested and 
 pondered awhile, he looked at Peredur and asked 
 who the knight was. 
 
 "Lord," said one of the maidens, "he is the fair- 
 est, gentlest youth that ever thou didst see. And 
 for the sake of Heaven and thine own destiny, 
 have patience with him." 
 
 "For thy sake," he replied, "I will have patience 
 with him and will spare his life this night." 
 
 Then Peredur came towards them to the fire, 
 and partook of food and wine, and entered into dis- 
 course with the ladies. And being elated with the 
 wine, he said to the black man, "It is a marvel to 
 me, so mighty as thou sayest thou art, who could 
 have put out thine eye." 
 
 At this the black man frowned and said, "It is 
 one of my habits that whosoever puts to me the 
 
 122
 
 jfrom the nDabtnogfon 
 
 question which thou hast asked, shall not escape 
 with his life, either as a free gift or for a price." 
 
 "Lord," said the maiden, "whatsoever he may 
 say to thee in jest and through excitement of the 
 wine, make good that which thou didst promise 
 just now." 
 
 "I will do so gladly for thy sake," he said; "will- 
 ingly will I grant him his life this night." And 
 that night thus they remained. 
 
 The next day the black man got up and put on 
 his armor, and said to Peredur, "Arise, young man, 
 and suffer death." 
 
 And Peredur said, "Do one of two things, black 
 man; if thou wilt fight with me, either throw off 
 thy armor, or give arms to me that I may en- 
 counter thee." 
 
 "Ha! young man," said he, "couldst thou fight 
 if thou hadst arms? Take thou what arms thou 
 dost choose." 
 
 And thereupon the maiden came to Peredur 
 with such arms as pleased him; and he fought with 
 the black man and overcame him and forced him 
 to crave his mercy. 
 
 "Black man," said Peredur, "thou shalt have 
 mercy, provided thou tell me who thou art, and 
 who put out thine eye." 
 
 "Lord, I will tell thee," he replied. "I lost it in 
 fighting with the Black Serpent of the Carn. There 
 is a mound which is called the Mound of Mourn- 
 ing, and on the mound there is a earn, and in the 
 
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 TOlon&cr Stories 
 
 earn there is a serpent, and in the tail of the ser- 
 pent there is a stone, and the virtues of the stone 
 are such that whosoever should hold it in one hand, 
 in the other he shall have as much gold as he may 
 desire. And in fighting with this serpent was it that 
 I lost my eye. And the Black Oppressor am I 
 called for the reason that there is not a single man 
 around me whom I have not oppressed." 
 
 "Tell me," said Peredur, "how far is it hence?" 
 
 "The same day that thou settest forth," he re- 
 plied, "thou wilt come to the palace of the Sons of 
 the King of Tortures; so called because the Ad- 
 danc of the lake slays them once every day. And 
 the day following thou wilt reach the Court of the 
 Countess of Achievements. In the household of 
 the Countess are three hundred men, and unto 
 every one who comes to her Court the achieve- 
 ments of her household are related. And the day 
 that thou goest thence thou wilt reach the Mound 
 of Mourning; and round about the mound are the 
 owners of three hundred tents guarding the ser- 
 pent." 
 
 "Since thou hast been an oppressor so long," 
 said Peredur, "I will cause that thou continue so 
 no longer." So he slew him. 
 
 Then the maiden spoke, and began to converse 
 with him. "If thou wast poor when thou earnest 
 here, henceforth thou wilt be rich through the 
 treasure of the black man whom thou hast slain. 
 Thou seest the many lovely maidens that there 
 
 124
 
 From tbe HDamnogfon 
 
 are in this court; thou shalt have her whom thou 
 best likest for the lady of thy love." 
 
 "Lady," replied Peredue, "I came not hither 
 from my country to woo; but match yourselves as 
 it liketh you with the comely youths I see. And 
 none of your goods do I desire; for I need them 
 not." 
 
 Then Peredur rode forward, and he came to the 
 Palace of the Sons of the King of Tortures; and 
 when he entered the palace he saw none but 
 women; and they rose up and were joyful at his 
 coming. And as they began to discourse with him 
 he beheld a charger arrive with a saddle upon it, 
 and a corpse in the saddle. And one of the women 
 arose and took the corpse from the saddle and 
 anointed it in a vessel of warm water, and placed 
 precious balsam upon it. And the man rose up 
 alive, and came to the place where Peredur was, 
 and greeted him, and was joyful to see him. And 
 two other dead men came in upon their saddles, 
 and the maiden treated these two in the same man- 
 ner as she had done the first. Then Peredur asked 
 the chieftains wherefore it was thus. And they 
 told him that there was an Addanc in a cave, which 
 slew them every day. And thus they remained 
 that night. 
 
 In the morning the youths arose to sally forth, 
 and Peredur besought them to permit him to go 
 with them. But they refused him saying, "If thou 
 
 125
 
 TOon&er Stories 
 
 shouldst be slain there, thou hast no one to bring 
 thee back to life again." 
 
 And they rode forward and Peredur followed af- 
 ter them; and after they had disappeared from his 
 sight he came to a mound, whereon sat the fairest 
 lady he had ever beheld. 
 
 "I know thy quest," said she, "thou art going to 
 encounter the Addanc, and he will slay thee; and 
 that not by courage but by craft. He has a cave, 
 and at the entrance of the cave there is a stone 
 pillar, and he sees every one who enters, and none 
 see him; and from behind the pillar he slays every 
 one with a poisonous dart. But if thou wilt pledge 
 me thy faith to love me above all women, I will 
 give thee a stone by which thou shouldst see him 
 when thou goest in, and he cannot see thee." 
 
 "I will by my faith," said Peredur, "for when 
 first I beheld thee my heart went out to thee; and 
 when I have slain the Addanc where shall I seek 
 thee?" 
 
 "When thou seekest me," she replied, "seek 
 towards India." And the maiden vanished, after 
 placing the stone in Peredur's hand. 
 
 As he rode forward he came to a valley through 
 which ran a river; and the borders of the valley 
 are wooded, and on each side of the river were 
 level meadows. And on one side of the river he 
 saw a flock of white sheep, and one the other side 
 a flock of black sheep. And whenever one of the 
 white sheep bleated one of the black sheep would 
 
 126
 
 ffrom tbe nDabinosion 
 
 cross over and become white; and when one of the 
 black sheep bleated one of the white sheep would 
 cross over and become black. And he saw a tall 
 tree by the side of the river, one half of which was 
 in flames from the roots to the top, and the other 
 half was green and in full leaf. And near the tree 
 was a youth of royal bearing sitting on a mound. 
 Peredur saluted the youth, and the youth greeted 
 him in return. Now there were three roads lead- 
 ing from the mound; two of them were wide and 
 the third was more narrow. And Peredur inquired 
 where the three roads went. 
 
 "One of them goes to my palace," said the 
 youth, "and I invite thee to go with me and rest 
 in my palace to-night, and my wife and sisters will 
 entertain thee. The other road leads to the town 
 wherein food and drink may be bought; and the 
 narrow road leads towards the cave of the Ad- 
 danc." 
 
 "I thank thee for thy courtesy," said Peredur, 
 "but I cannot tarry; and with thy permission I 
 will go that way." 
 
 So the next day Peredur set forth toward the 
 Mound of Mourning. On his way he met a youth 
 by the name of Etlym, who desired to go with him. 
 So they went forward till they came in sight of 
 the mound and the tents. 
 
 "Go unto yonder men," said Peredur to Etlym, 
 "and desire them to come and do me homage." 
 
 127
 
 TOonfcer 
 
 So Etlym went unto them and said unto them, 
 "Come and do homage to my lord." 
 
 "Who is thy lord," said they. 
 
 "Peredur with the long lance is my lord," said 
 Etlym. 
 
 To this they replied, "Were it permitted to slay a 
 messenger, thou shouldst not go back to thy lord 
 alive, for making unto kings and earls and barons 
 so arrogant a demand as to go and do him hom- 
 age." 
 
 On this Peredur desired him to go back to them, 
 and to give them the choice either to come and do 
 him homage or to do battle with him. And they 
 chose rather to do battle; and that day Peredur 
 overthrew the owners of a hundred tents. And 
 the next day he overthrew a hundred more; and 
 the third day the remaining third took counsel to 
 do homage to him. And Peredur inquired of 
 them wherefore they were there. And they told 
 him they were guarding the serpent until he 
 should die. "For then should we fight for the 
 stone among ourselves, and whoever should be 
 conquerer among us would have the stone, and 
 thus be able to have all the gold he wants." 
 
 "Wait here," said Peredur, "and I will go to en- 
 counter the serpent." 
 
 "No, no, lord," said they, "we will all go to- 
 gether to encounter the serpent that we may share 
 the honor and the gold with thee." 
 
 But Peredur would not permit it and went alone 
 
 128
 
 from tbe flDabtnoston 
 
 to encounter it. And he took the stone which the 
 maiden had given him in his left hand and his lance 
 in his right hand. And as he entered the cave he 
 perceived the Addanc, and he pierced him through 
 with his lance and cut off his head. And as he came 
 forth from the cave, behold all the men were at 
 the entrance; and they saluted Peredur, and told 
 him that there was a prediction that he should slay 
 the monster. 
 
 Then Peredur gave the head of the Addanc to 
 the young man Etlym, and he said, "May Heaven 
 prosper and bless thee." And in return Etlym of- 
 fered him one of his three sisters in marriage, and 
 half his kingdom with her. 
 
 But Peredur said, "I came not hither to woo, 
 but if I took a wife, I would prefer your sister to 
 all others whom I know." 
 
 And Peredur still rode onward; and he came to 
 the fairest valley he had ever seen, through which 
 ran a river; and there he beheld many tents of 
 various colors. And he marvelled still more at the 
 number of windmills and of watermills that he saw. 
 And there rode up to him a tall, auburn-haired 
 man, in a workman's garb, and Peredur inquired 
 of him who he was. 
 
 "I am the chief miller," he said, "of all the mills 
 yonder." 
 
 "Wilt thou give me a lodging?" said Peredur. 
 
 "I will gladly do so," replied the miller. 
 
 So Peredur came to the miller's house, and the 
 
 129
 
 TKHonfcer Stories 
 
 miller had a fair and pleasant dwelling. And Pere- 
 dur asked money as a loan from the miller, that 
 he might buy meat and bread for himself. To this 
 the miller's wife objected; but he promised her that 
 he would pay him ere he went thence. Then he 
 inquired of the miller wherefore such a multitude 
 was there assembled. And the miller said, "There 
 is to be a tournament, and the Empress of Crist- 
 inobyl the Great is here; and she will have no one 
 for her husband but the man who is the most val- 
 iant, for she careth not for riches. And it was im- 
 possible to bring food along for so many thousands 
 as are here, therefore were these mills con- 
 structed." 
 
 The next day Peredur arose and equipped him- 
 self for the tournament. And among the tents he 
 beheld one that was the fairest of them all; and in 
 that tent he saw a beauteous maiden leaning her 
 head out a window of the tent, and he thought he 
 had never seen a maiden more lovely than she. 
 And he stopped and looked upon the maiden, and 
 as he looked he began to love her greatly. 
 
 And he remained there, gazing at the maiden 
 from morning until midday, and from midday un- 
 til evening; and then the tournament for the day 
 was ended; and he went to his lodging and drew 
 off his armor. And the next day he did in like 
 manner as he had done the day before. And the 
 third day as he was in the same place gazing on the 
 maiden, he felt a hard blow between the neck and 
 
 130
 
 ffrom the flDabinooion 
 
 the shoulder as from the edge of an axe. And 
 when he turned and looked behind him he saw 
 that it was the miller; and the miller said unto him, 
 "Do one of two things; either turn thy head from 
 hence or go to the tournament." 
 
 At this Peredur smiled upon the miller and went 
 to the tournament, and all whom he encountered 
 that day he overthrew. And as many as he over- 
 threw he sent as a gift to the Empress, and their 
 horses and their arms he sent to the miller's wife 
 in payment of the money that he had borrowed of 
 the miller. And the Empress sent for him to come 
 and visit her, but Peredur went not for the first 
 nor for the second message. And the third time 
 she sent one hundred knights to bring him against 
 his will; and they went to him and told him this 
 message from the Empress. And Peredur refused 
 to go and fought with them and defeated them and 
 caused them to be bound and thrown into the mill 
 dyke. 
 
 Then the Empress sought advice of a wise man; 
 and he said "With thy permission I will go to him 
 myself." So he came to Peredur and besought him 
 to come and visit the Empress. 
 
 Then Peredur went with the man, and when he 
 reached the tent of the Empress he sat down in an 
 outer chamber, and she came and placed herself 
 by his side; and he saw that she was the beautiful 
 maiden he had seen in the tent; and they dis- 
 coursed with each other with much courtesy.
 
 Monger Storied 
 
 And while they all sat thus, they beheld a black 
 man enter with a goblet of wine in his hand. And 
 he dropped upon his knee before the Empress, and 
 besought her to give it to no one who would not 
 fight for it. And she looked upon Peredur, and 
 he said, "Lady, bestow upon me the goblet." And 
 she gave it to him; and he drank the wine and 
 sent the goblet to the miller's wife. 
 
 And while they thus sat talking, behold there 
 entered a black man of larger stature than the 
 other, with a wild beast's claw in his hand wrought 
 into the form of a goblet, and filled with wine. And 
 he presented it to the Empress, and besought her 
 to give it to no one but the man who would fight 
 with him. "Lady," said Peredur, "bestow it upon 
 me." And she gave it to him. And Peredur drank 
 the wine, and sent the goblet to the wife of the 
 miller. 
 
 And while they talked, behold a rough looking 
 crisp-haired man, taller than either of the others, 
 came in with a bowl in his hands full of wine; and 
 he bent upon his knees and gave it into the hands 
 of the Empress and besought her to give it to 
 none but him who would fight with him for it. 
 And she gave it to Peredur, and he sent it as be- 
 fore to the miller's wife in return for the money 
 the miller had loaned him. 
 
 And that night Peredur returned to his lodg- 
 ing; and the next day he accoutred himself and his 
 horse arid went to the meadow, and there met the
 
 fftom tbe nDabfnooton 
 
 three black men and fought with them and slew 
 them. Then he went to the tent of the Empress, 
 and she came and took him by the hand and said 
 to him: 
 
 "Goodly Peredur, dost thou remember the faith 
 thou didst pledge me when I gave thee the stone, 
 that thou mightst kill the Addanc?" 
 
 And he, gazing at her, said, "Lady, thou sayest 
 truth, I do remember it with all my heart." 
 
 For she was the maiden who had been sitting 
 on the mound when Peredur had gone in search 
 of the Addanc, and had given him the stone on 
 the pledge of his faithful love. And so he remained 
 with her for fourteen years, as the story relates. 
 After which he returned to the court of King Ar- 
 thur. 
 
 133
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 HOW PEREDUR SOUGHT THE CASTLE OF WONDERS 
 
 WHILE Peredur was at Caerleon-upon-Usk, 
 behold there came to the palace a black 
 curly-headed maiden, riding upon a yel- 
 low mule. Her face and hands were as black as the 
 blackest iron covered with pitch, and her color was 
 not more frightful than her form. Her face was 
 long, her nose was short with distended nostrils; 
 one eye was mottled gray and the other was black 
 as jet and sunk deep in her head. Her teeth were 
 long and yellow; her legs and feet were large and 
 bony; and her back was in the shape of a crook. 
 
 Greeting King Arthur, she said, "May it please 
 thee, lord, my dwelling is far hence in a stately cas- 
 tle, and therein are five hundred and sixty-six 
 knights of the order of chivalry; and whoever 
 would acquire fame in arms and encounters and 
 conflicts, he will gain it there if he deserves it. And 
 whoso would reach the summit of fame and of 
 honor, I know where he may find it. There is a 
 castle on a lofty mountain, and there is a maiden 
 therein, and she is detained a prisoner there; and 
 whoever shall set her free will attain the summit 
 
 134
 
 Jftom the flDabinogion 
 
 of the fame of the world." And thereupon she 
 rode away. 
 
 Then many of the knights, and Peredur with 
 them, started to find the castle with the intent to 
 release the maiden. And Peredur rode forward 
 over the whole island seeking tidings of the black 
 maiden, and he could meet with none. At length 
 he came to a valley in the centre of which flowed 
 a river. As he traversed the valley he beheld a 
 horseman coming towards him and wearing the 
 garments of a priest; and he besought his blessing. 
 But the priest would not give him his blessing, but 
 chided him that he was riding clad in armor, as it 
 was Good Friday. To which Peredur replied, 
 "Chide me not, for I knew not that it was Good 
 Friday, since it is a year since I set forth from my 
 own country." 
 
 Then he dismounted and led his horse by the 
 bridle. Soon he came to a cross road which en- 
 tered a wood; and on the other side of the wood 
 he saw an unfortified castle. Riding up to the 
 gate of the castle he met the priest whom he had 
 seen before, and he asked him again for his bless- 
 ing. "The blessing of Heaven be upon thee," said 
 the priest, "for it is more fitting to travel in thy 
 present guise than as thou wast ere while; and 
 this night thou shalt tarry with me." So he re- 
 mained there that night. 
 
 The next day Peredur sought to go forth; but 
 the priest said, "To-day no one may journey. Thou 
 
 135
 
 TOonfcer Storiee 
 
 must stay with me to-day and to-morrow and the 
 day following, and then I will direct thee as best 
 I may to the place thou art seeking." 
 
 So the fourth day Peredur sought to go forth, 
 and he entreated the priest to tell him how he 
 should find the Castle of Wonders. 
 
 "What I know I will tell thee thereof," said the 
 priest. "Go over yonder mountain, and on the 
 other side of the mountain thou wilt come to a 
 river, and in the valley wherein the river runs is 
 a king's palace, wherein the king sojourns during 
 Easter. And if thou mayst have tidings anywhere 
 of the Castle of Wonders thou wilt have them 
 there." 
 
 So Peredur rode forward until he came to the 
 valley in which was the river, and there he met a 
 number of men going to hunt, and in the midst of 
 them a man of exalted rank; and Peredur saluted 
 him. And the man replied, "Choose, chieftain, 
 whether thou wilt go with me to the chase or pro- 
 ceed to my palace, where you can remain with my 
 daughter until I return from the chase, when, what- 
 ever thy errand, such as I can obtain for thee thou 
 shalt gladly have." 
 
 Then as Peredur preferred to go to the palace, 
 the king sent a little yellow page with him as an 
 attendant; and he brought him to the palace. And 
 when he came to the palace the king's daughter 
 saluted him joyfully, and prepared for him a repast 
 and placed him by her side at the table. And what- 
 
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 ever Peredur said to her she laughed loudly so 
 that all the palace could hear her. 
 
 Then the little yellow page went to the king 
 and told him that it seemed to him that the youth 
 whom he had met was his daughter's husband, or 
 if not that he would shortly be so unless he were 
 cautious. 
 
 "What is thy counsel in this matter?" said the 
 king. 
 
 "My counsel is," he replied, "that thou set 
 strong men upon him to seize him until thou hast 
 obtained the truth concerning him." 
 
 So the king set strong men upon Peredur, who 
 seized him and cast him into prison. Then the 
 maiden went before her father and asked him 
 wherefore he had caused the youth from King Ar- 
 thur's court to be imprisoned. 
 
 "In truth," he answered, "he shalj not be free 
 to-night, nor to-morrow, nor the day following, 
 and he shall not come from where he is." 
 
 The maiden replied not to what the king had 
 said, but went to the youth and said to him, "It 
 is unpleasant for you to be here?" 
 
 "I should not care if I were not here," he an- 
 swered. 
 
 "Well," she said, "I will provide for thee as best 
 I can; and if it will be pleasing to thee I will watch 
 with thee through the night." 
 
 "This I cannot refuse," said Peredur. And so 
 she remained in the prison with him all the night. 
 
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 Udcmfcer Stories 
 
 In the morning Peredur heard a tumult in the 
 town, and said, "Tell me, fair maiden, what is this 
 tumult ?" 
 
 "All the king's hosts and his forces have come 
 to the town to-day," she answered. 
 
 "And what seek they here ?" he inquired. 
 
 "There is an earl near this place who possesses 
 two earldoms, and is as powerful as a king; and 
 a tournament will take place here to-day." 
 
 "I beseech thee," said Peredur, "to cause a horse 
 and arms to be brought, that I may view the en- 
 counter, and I will promise that I will come back 
 to my prison again." 
 
 "Gladly," she replied, "will I provide thee with 
 horse and arms." 
 
 So she gave him a horse and arms, and a bright 
 scarlet robe of honor over his armor, and a yellow 
 shield upon his shoulder. And he went to the 
 combat, and as many of the earl's men as encount- 
 ered him that day he overthrew; and at eventide 
 he returned to his prison. And the maiden asked 
 tidings of Peredur, but he answered her not a 
 word. 
 
 Then the maiden went to her father and asked 
 tidings of him, and inquired who had acquitted 
 himself the best of the household. And he said 
 that he knew not, but that it was a man with a 
 scarlet robe of honor over his armor, and a yellow 
 shield upon his shoulder. Then she smiled and 
 returned to where Peredur was, and did him great 
 
 138
 
 Ifrom tbe flDabinogiort 
 
 honor that night. And for three days did Pere- 
 dur slay the earl's men; and before any one could 
 know who he was he returned to his prison. 
 
 On the fourth day, Peredur went forth again, 
 and he slew the earl himself. And the maiden went 
 to her father and inquired of him the news. 
 
 "I have good news for thee," said the king; "the 
 earl is slain, and I am the owner of his two earl- 
 doms." 
 
 "Knowest thou, lord, who slew him?" she asked. 
 
 "I do not know," said the king. "It was the 
 knight with the scarlet robe of honor and the yel- 
 low shield." 
 
 Then she said, "My father, I know who he is." 
 
 "By Heaven!" he exclaimed, "who is he?" 
 
 "Lord," she replied, "he is the knight whom 
 thou hast imprisoned." 
 
 Then the king went unto Peredur and saluted 
 him, and told him that he would reward the service 
 he had done for him in any way he might desire. 
 And when they went to meat, Peredur was placed 
 beside the king, and the maiden was placed on the 
 other side of Peredur. 
 
 "I will give thee," said the king, "my daughter 
 in marriage, and half of my kingdom with her and 
 the two earldoms as a gift." 
 
 "Heaven reward thee," said Peredur, "but I 
 came not here to woo." 
 
 "What seekest thou then?" asked the king. 
 
 Then Peredur told him that he was seeking for 
 
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 the Castle of Wonders. At this the maiden said, 
 "Thy enterprise, chieftain, is, I fear, greater than 
 thou wilt wish to pursue. Nevertheless, thou shalt 
 have tidings of the castle, and a guide through my 
 father's dominions, and provisions for thy journey, 
 for thou art, O chieftain, the man of all the world 
 whom I best love." 
 
 Then she said to him that he should go over 
 yonder mountain, and there he would find a lake, 
 and in the middle of the lake there is a castle, and 
 that is the castle that is called the Castle of Won- 
 ders. "And we know not what wonders are with- 
 in," she said, "but thus it is called." 
 
 Then Peredur proceeded toward the castle; and 
 when he came there he found the gate of the castle 
 was open and he went therein. And when he came 
 to the hall, the door was opened and he entered. 
 And he beheld a chess-board in the hall, and the 
 chessmen on the board were playing against one 
 another by themselves. As he looked upon the 
 game, behold the side that he favored lost the 
 game, and thereupon the others set up a shout, 
 as though they had been living men. And Pere- 
 dur was wroth, and he took the chessmen in his 
 lap, and cast the chessboard into the lake. 
 
 And when he had done this, behold a black 
 maiden came in, and said to him, "The welcome of 
 Heaven be not unto thee. Thou hadst rather do 
 evil than good." 
 
 140
 
 Jftom tbe flDabinogton 
 
 "What complaint hast thou against me?" said 
 Peredur. 
 
 "That thou hast occasioned the Empress the 
 loss of her chessboard which she would not have 
 lost for all her empire. And the way in which 
 thou mayst recover the chessboard is to repair to 
 the Castle of Ysbydinongyl, where there is a black 
 man who lays waste the dominions of the Em- 
 press; and if thou canst slay him, thou wilt re- 
 cover the chessboard. But if thou goest there, 
 thou wilt not return alive." 
 
 "Wilt thou direct me hither?" said Peredur. 
 
 "I will show thee the way," she replied. 
 
 So Peredur went to the Castle of Ysbydinongyl, 
 and there he found the black man, and he fought 
 with him and overcome him so that he cried for 
 mercy. "Mercy will I grant thee,' said Peredur, 
 "on condition that thou cause the chessboard to 
 be restored to the place where it was when I en- 
 tered the hall." 
 
 Then the maiden came to him and said, "The 
 curse of Heaven be upon thee for thy work, since 
 thou hast left that monster alive, who lays waste 
 all the possessions of the Empress." 
 
 "I granted him his life," said Peredur, "that he 
 might cause the chessboard to be restored." 
 
 "The chessboard is not in the place where thou 
 didst find it; go back therefore and slay him," said 
 the maiden. 
 
 So Peredur went back and slew the black man. 
 
 141
 
 Wkmfcer Stories 
 
 And when he returned to the palace he found the 
 black maiden there. 
 
 "Ah ! maiden," said Peredur, "where is the Em- 
 press?" 
 
 "I declare to Heaven," she replied, "that thou 
 wilt not see her unless thou slay the monster that 
 is in yonder forest." 
 
 "What monster is there?" asked Peredur. 
 
 "It is a stag," she said, "as swift as the swiftest 
 bird; and he has one horn in his forehead as long 
 as the shaft of a spear, and as sharp as whatever 
 is sharpest. And he destroys the branches of the 
 best trees in the forest, and kills every animal that 
 he meets therein. And what is worse, he comes 
 every night and drinks up the fish pond and leaves 
 the fishes exposed so that the most of them die 
 before the water returns again." 
 
 "Maiden," said Peredur, "wilt thou come and 
 show me this animal?" 
 
 "Not so," said the maiden, "for he hath not per- 
 mitted any mortal to enter the forest for about a 
 twelvemonth. But here is a little dog belonging 
 to the Empress, which will arouse the stag and 
 chase him toward thee." 
 
 Then the little dog went as a guide to Peredur, 
 and aroused the stag, and brought him towards 
 the place where Peredur was. And the stag at- 
 tacked Peredur with great fury; but Peredur 
 leaped aside and let him pass by him, and as he 
 
 142
 
 fftom tbe nDabinosfott 
 
 did so he struck him and smote off his head with 
 his sword. 
 
 While he was looking at the head of the stag, 
 he saw a lady on horseback coming towards him. 
 And she took the little dog in the lappet of her 
 cap, and the head and the body of the stag lay 
 before her; and around the stag's neck was a 
 golden collar. 
 
 "Ha! chieftain," she said, "uncourteously hast 
 thou acted in slaying the fairest jewel that was in 
 my dominions." 
 
 "I was entreated so to do," said Peredur; "and 
 if I have done wrong, I ask is there any way by 
 which I can atone for it and obtain thy friend- 
 ship?" 
 
 "There is," she replied. "Go thou up into yon- 
 der mountain, and there thou wilt find a grove, 
 and in the grove there is a cromlech; and there 
 thou shalt find a man whom thou shalt challenge 
 three times to fight. In this way canst thou have 
 my friendship." 
 
 So Peredur went toward the mountain, and 
 came to the grove and challenged any man to fight 
 him. And a black man arose from beneath the 
 cromlech, mounted upon a bony horse, and both 
 he and his horse were clad in huge rusty armor. 
 And there they began to fight. And as often as 
 Peredur cast the black man to the earth, he would 
 jump again into his saddle. Then Peredur dis- 
 mounted and drew his sword; and thereupon the 
 
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 black man leaped upon Peredur's horse and dis- 
 appeared with his horse and his own. And Pere- 
 dur in amaze went along the mountain looking for 
 his horse; and when he reached the other side of 
 the mountain he came to a castle, and when he en- 
 tered it he saw a lame gray-headed man sitting on 
 one side of the hall with Gawaine beside him. And 
 there Peredur beheld his horse which the black 
 man had taken, and in the same stall with that of 
 Gawaine. 
 
 Then Peredur went and seated himself on the 
 other side of the hoary-headed man. And behold 
 a yellow haired youth came, and bent upon the 
 knee before Peredur, and besought his friendship. 
 
 "Lord," said the youth, "it was I that came in 
 the form of the black maiden to Arthur's court, 
 and when thou didst throw the chessboard, and 
 when thou didst slay the black man of Ysbydinon- 
 gyl, and when thou didst slay the stag, and when 
 thou didst go to fight the black man of the crom- 
 lech. And I came with the bloody head in the 
 salver, and with the lance that streamed with blood 
 from the point to the hand, all along the shaft; 
 and the head was thy cousin's and he was killed by 
 the sorceresses of Gloucester, who also lamed 
 thine uncle; and I am thy cousin. And there is a 
 prediction that thou art to avenge these things." 
 
 Then Peredur and Gawaine took counsel to- 
 gether and they sent to King Arthur and his 
 household to beseech them to come against the 
 
 144
 
 from the flDabinogion 
 
 sorceresses. And the King and his knights came 
 and began to fight with them; and one of the sor- 
 ceresses slew one of King Arthur's men before 
 Peredur's face, at which Peredur bade her forbear. 
 And the soceress slew a man before Peredur's face 
 a second time, and a second time he forbade her. 
 And the third time the sorceress slew a man before 
 the face of Peredur; and then Peredur drew his 
 sword, and smote the sorceress on the helmet; and 
 all her head armor was split into two parts. At 
 this she set up a cry and warned the other sor- 
 ceresses to flee, telling them that this was Pere- 
 dur, the man who had learned chivalry with them, 
 and by whom they were destined to be slain. Then 
 King Arthur and his household fell upon the sor- 
 ceresses and slew every one of them. And thus is 
 it related of the Castle of the Wonders. 
 
 And after this Peredur went to King Arthur's 
 court, and there it is supposed he lived for many 
 years with his wife, the fair Angharard, beloved by 
 the King and all his knights. 
 
 This is a genuine Arthurian tale, though it is not in- 
 cluded in Malory's book of "Morte de Arthur." Peredur is 
 frequently referred to by the Bards of the Middle Ages, 
 in eulogistic terms, showing the high esteem in which his 
 deeds of prowess were then held. 
 
 There is a French version of the tale, and in some of 
 the old romances he is celebrated under the name of Per- 
 ceval, as one of those engaged in the quest of the Sangreal. 
 Like Owain, his exploits were sung by Chrestiens de 
 Troyes. Both of these heroes are celebrated in romances 
 in German and other tongues of Northern Europe. 
 
 145
 
 <Se taint and Cnifc 
 
 Chapter I 
 
 ot ecratnt toon fctvid for l)i* r i fl * 
 
 NCE upon a time King Arthur held his 
 court at Caerleon. And with him were 
 nine kings and many earls and barons, 
 and many noble knights of the Table Round. On 
 Whitsuntide, as the King sat at the banquet, there 
 entered the hall one of his foresters, who told him 
 that he had seen in the forest a milk white stag of 
 wondrous size and beauty. Then King Arthur 
 sent word to all his company that they should be 
 ready to start at break of day on the morrow to 
 hunt the milk white stag. 
 
 Now Queen Guinevere had asked of Arthur 
 leave to ride with the hunters to see the chase, and 
 this he had gladly granted. But when the morn- 
 ing came she lay lost in pleasing dreams and did 
 not waken so as to be ready to go with the com- 
 pany. 
 
 Then her maidens went to Arthur saying, 
 "Guinevere is still sleeping; shall we awaken her 
 that she may go with thee to the hunt?" 
 
 146
 
 ffrom tbe 
 
 "Disturb her not," the King replied, "for she 
 had rather sleep than go to see the hunting." 
 
 Then Arthur went forth and took the road to 
 the forest and all the knights and barons went 
 with him. After they were gone from the palace 
 the Queen awoke and finding she had overslept 
 herself, she called her maidens and bade them 
 bring her two horses. When they were brought 
 she mounted one and bidding one of her maidens 
 to mount the other, she rode forth to follow the 
 hunt. 
 
 As they rode through the forest they heard a 
 sudden sound of hoofs; and looking behind them, 
 they beheld a knight riding towards them, 
 mounted on a horse of great size. The rider was 
 a fair-haired youth, bare legged and of princely 
 mien, having a golden hilted sword at his side, and 
 wearing about his shoulders a scarf of purple with 
 a golden apple in each corner. His horse had a 
 stately step, quick and proud; and soon he over- 
 took Queen Guinevere and, reining in his steed, he 
 saluted her. 
 
 The knight was young Geraint, the son of Er- 
 bin, who was the lord of the country of Erbin. The 
 Queen was pleased to meet the handsome young 
 knight, and asked him to ride with her to the hunt- 
 ing, which he was right glad to do. So they rode 
 till they came to the edge of the forest, and there 
 they stood waiting to hear when the dogs should 
 be let loose. Presently they heard a loud noise, 
 
 147
 
 Stories 
 
 and looking toward the place whence it came, they 
 beheld a dwarf riding upon a stately horse; and 
 behind him was a lady clothed in a garment of gold 
 brocade, and riding upon a beautiful white horse 
 of steady and stately pace. With her was a knight 
 clad in bright armor and mounted upon a war 
 horse of great size. 
 
 As the Queen beheld them, she said, "Sir Ge- 
 raint, knowest thou the name of that tall knight?" 
 
 "I know him not," answered Geraine, "and be- 
 cause of his strange helm, I cannot see his face 
 or his features." 
 
 Then the Queen bade her maiden go and ask 
 the dwarf who the knight was. The maiden 
 obeyed, but when she asked the dwarf who the 
 knight was, he would not tell her. 
 
 So the maiden said, "Since thou art so churlish 
 as not to answer me, I will go and ask him myself." 
 
 "Thou shalt not ask him, by my faith," said 
 the dwarf. 
 
 "Wherefore shall I not ask him?" she replied. 
 
 "Because thou art not of sufficient honor to 
 befit thee to speak to my lord," he answered. 
 
 Then the maiden turned her horse's head 
 towards the knight; upon which the dwarf struck 
 her across the face with the whip that he carried 
 in his hand, so that the blood flowed forth. At this 
 the maiden returned to Queen Guinevere com- 
 plaining of the hurt she had received. 
 
 "Very rudely has the dwarf treated thee," said 
 
 148
 
 fftom tbe nDabtnogtort 
 
 Geraint; "I will myself go to ask who the knight 
 is." So he went to the dwarf and asked who the 
 knight was. 
 
 "I will not tell thee," said the dwarf. 
 
 "Then I will ask him myself," said Geraint. 
 
 "That thou shalt not, by my faith," said the 
 dwarf. And with that he struck Geraint with his 
 whip as he had done to the woman. 
 
 At this Geraint was very wroth, and he put his 
 hand upon the hilt of his sword; but he considered 
 that it would be no vengeance for him to slay the 
 dwarf and be attacked unarmed by the knight; so 
 he returned to the queen who said he had acted 
 wisely and discreetly. Then he said to the Queen, 
 "Lady, I will follow him, with thy permission; and 
 in time I shall come to a place where I may get 
 arms so that I may encounter the knight." 
 
 "Go," said she, "but do not attack him until 
 thou hast good arms; and I shall be very anxious 
 concerning thee until I hear tidings of thee." 
 
 "And remember, too," she said, "if ever thou 
 hast a bride, thou art to bring her to me, and be 
 she the daughter of a king or a beggar from the 
 hedge, I will clothe her for her bridal." 
 
 "If I am alive," said Geraint, "thou shalt hear 
 tidings of me by to-morrow afternoon;" and so he 
 departed rnd followed the dwarf and the knight. 
 
 The road they took was below the palace of 
 Caerleon, and across the ford of Usk, and they 
 went up a lofty ridge of ground until they came to 
 
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 Member Stories 
 
 the top of it. There stood a fair town, and at the 
 further end of it they saw a great fortress and a 
 castle. As the knight passed through the town, 
 all the people arose and saluted him, and bade 
 him welcome. 
 
 As Geraint rode through the town he looked at 
 every house to see if he could find any one from 
 whom he might borrow a suit of armor; but he saw 
 no one whom he knew. Every house was full of 
 men and arms and horses; and the men were pol- 
 ishing their shields and burnishing their swords 
 and washing armor and shoeing horses. And the 
 knight and the lady and the dwarf rode up to the 
 castle and entered it. 
 
 Geraint stood for awhile to see whether the 
 knight would remain in the castle, and then began 
 to look about him to see where he should lodge. 
 At a little distance from the town he saw an old 
 palace that had once been full noble, but was now 
 falling into decay. He went toward the palace 
 and found that it was approached by a bridge of 
 marble. On the bridge he saw sitting a hoary- 
 headed man clad in poor and tattered garments. 
 
 As Geraint stood gazing upon him, the aged 
 man said, "Young man, wherefore art thou so 
 thoughtful?" 
 
 "I am thoughtful," replied Geraint, "because I 
 know not where to pass the night." 
 
 "Wilt thou abide with me?" said the aged man.
 
 fftom tbe fl&abinogton 
 
 "If thou wilt thou shalt have of the best that I can 
 give thee." 
 
 So saying he led the way into the hall, and Ge- 
 raint followed him. 
 
 In the hall Geraint dismounted and left his 
 horse; and his host took him into an upper cham- 
 ber. And there he beheld an aged woman, sitting 
 on a cushion, with old worn out garments of satin 
 upon her; and yet it seemed to him that she must 
 have been comely when in the bloom of youth. 
 And beside her was a maiden, upon whom were a 
 vest and a veil that were old and much worn. As 
 Geraint looked upon her he thought that he had 
 never seen a maiden more full of comeliness, grace 
 and beauty than she. 
 
 The hoary-headed man said to the maiden, 
 "There is no attendant for the horse of this youth 
 but thyself." 
 
 "I will render the best service I am able," said 
 she, "both to him and his horse." 
 
 Then she disarrayed the knight, and unsaddled 
 his horse and gave it straw and corn. When this 
 was done the aged man said to the maiden, "Go to 
 the town and bring hither the best that thou canst 
 find, both of food and of liquor." 
 
 "I will do so gladly, lord," she said. So she 
 went her way across the bridge, and Geraint would 
 fain have accompanied her, but the aged man 
 would not permit. 
 
 While the maiden was away, the aged man and
 
 Monger Stories 
 
 woman conversed pleasantly with Geraint and told 
 him all about the castle and the town. And as 
 they talked the maiden returned bringing with her 
 a youth bearing on his back a flagon of wine and 
 the quarter of a young bullock; while in the 
 maiden's hands and in her veil she carried a quan- 
 tity of white bread. 
 
 "I could not obtain better than this," she said, 
 "nor with better would I have been trusted." 
 
 "Surely this is good enough," said Geraint. 
 
 So the food was made ready by the maiden, who, 
 moving to and fro, was followed by the admiring 
 eyes of the knight. When the food was ready Ge- 
 raint sat down to the table between the aged man 
 and his wife, while the maiden waited upon them. 
 
 When they had finished eating, Geraint talked 
 again with the aged man, and asked him to whom 
 the palace belonged. 
 
 "Truly," said he, "it was I that built it; and to 
 me also belonged the city and the castle thou 
 sawest." 
 
 "Alas!" said Geraint, "how is it that thou hast 
 lost them?" 
 
 "I lost a great earldom, as well as these," an- 
 swered the aged man, "and it was in this wise : I 
 had a nephew, the son of my brother, and I took 
 care of his possessions; but when he came of age 
 he demanded them of me, but I delayed awhile 
 to comply with his request, upon which he made 
 
 152
 
 Jtom tbe nDabtnogton 
 
 war upon me, and took from me not only his own 
 but also all that I possessed except the castle." 
 
 "Good sir," said Geraint, "wilt thou tell me 
 wherefore came the knight, the lady, and the 
 dwarf, that I just now saw go into the castle; and 
 also why there is such preparation and putting of 
 arms in order in the town?" 
 
 "I will do so," said the aged man. "The prep- 
 arations are for a tournament that is to be held to- 
 morrow by the young earl, my nephew. In the 
 midst of a meadow hard by two silver forks will be 
 set up, and upon the silver forks a silver rod will 
 be placed, and upon the silver rod will be hung a 
 silver sparrow hawk, and that is to be the prize of 
 a tournament to be held to-morrow. To this 
 tournament will go all the array that thou didst 
 see in the city, of men and of horses and of arms. 
 And with each man will go -his lady that he loves 
 best; and no man may joust for the sparrow hawk, 
 except the lady that he loves best be with him. 
 And the knight thou sawest has now gained the 
 sparrow hawk these two years; and if he wins it 
 to-morrow they will from that time forth send it 
 to him every year, and he himself will come here 
 no more. And he will be called the Knight of the 
 Sparrow Hawk from that time forward." 
 
 Then Geraint told the aged earl, whose name 
 was Uniel, of the quest he was on, and of the in- 
 sult which the knight's dwarf had given to him, 
 and to Queen Guinevere; and he said, 
 
 153
 
 Member 
 
 "What is thy counsel to me on account of the 
 insult to the queen and to myself?" 
 
 "It is not easy to counsel thee," said the earl, 
 "because thou hast neither dame nor maiden with 
 thee for whom thou canst joust, and in this tourn- 
 ament no man may tilt unless the lady he loves best 
 be there. Yet I have arms here which thou couldst 
 have, and there is my horse also if he seem to thee 
 better than thine own." 
 
 "Ah, sir," said Geraint, "may Heaven reward 
 thee; but my own horse to which I am accustomed 
 will serve me best; however, I will take thy arms, 
 as I have none of my own. And if thou wilt permit 
 me to-morrow to challenge for this fair maiden, 
 your daughter, I will engage, if I come alive from 
 the tournament, to love her as long as I live." 
 
 "Gladly will I permit this," said the aged man; 
 "and since the tournament will begin at daybreak, 
 it will be best that we now take our needed rest." 
 
 Glad was the maiden when she heard these 
 words, though she concealed the feeling in her 
 heart, for Geraint was a right comely knight, and 
 was ever courteous to ladies. Then as it was need- 
 ful to be at the tournament at daybreak the next 
 morning, they all lay down to rest. 
 
 At early morning, before the dawn, they all 
 arose and arrayed themselves, and by the time 
 that it was day they were all four in the meadow. 
 And there was the Knight of the Sparrow Hawk 
 making the proclamation and asking his lady-love 
 
 154
 
 ffrom tbe flDabinoQion 
 
 to take the sparrow hawk, because she was the 
 fairest, and if any denied her, by force he would 
 defend it for her. 
 
 "Take it not," said Geraint, "for there is here a 
 maiden who is fairer and more noble, and more 
 comely, and who has a better claim to it than thou 
 hast." 
 
 Then said the knight to Geraint, "If thou main- 
 tainest the sparrow hawk to be due to thy lady, 
 come forward and do battle with me." 
 
 At this Geraint went forward to the top of the 
 meadow, he and his horse being arrayed in the 
 Earl Uniel's old armor, which was heavy and rusty 
 and of uncouth shape. And he and the knight 
 rode together several times and broke their lances 
 upon each other, and at last the Knight of the 
 Sparrow Hawk seemed to be gaining the mas- 
 tery; and there was shouting and joy and mirth 
 amongst his followers. 
 
 Then the old earl drew near to Geraint and said, 
 "O knight, since no other lance will hold with thee, 
 here is the good spear which was in my hand on 
 the day when I received the honor of knighthood, 
 and it never yet has been broken." 
 
 Geraint took the spear with thanks; upon which 
 the dwarf also brought a lance to his lord, saying, 
 "Behold, here is a lance for thee, not less good 
 than his. And bethink thee that no knight has 
 ever withstood thee so long as this one has done." 
 
 Then Geraint pricked his horse and rode upon 
 
 155
 
 WHonfcer Stories 
 
 the knight so furiously that he cleft his shield in 
 two, and broke his armor, and burst his girths, 
 so that both he and his saddle were borne to the 
 ground. And Geraint dismounted quickly, and 
 drew his sword, and rushed fiercely upon him; but 
 the knight also arose and drew his sword against 
 Geraint. So they fought on foot with their 
 swords, giving such heavy blows that the fire 
 flashed from their armor like stars, and the blood 
 and sweat ran down into their eyes. 
 
 After awhile it seemed as if the stranger knight 
 would prevail, at which the young earl and all his 
 party rejoiced; but Earl Uniel and his wife and the 
 maiden were heavy of heart. 
 
 Then the old earl went near to Geraint and 
 cried, "O knight, bethink thee of the insult that 
 thou and Queen Guinevere had from the dwarf." 
 
 At this Geraint put forth all his strength and 
 struck the knight so hard a blow upon his helmet 
 that it broke, and the sword cut through the flesh 
 and skin, even to the skull. 
 
 Then the knight fell upon his knees, and threw 
 his sword from his hand, and besought mercy from 
 Geraint, saying, "Unless I have time to commit 
 myself to Heaven for my sins, and to talk with a 
 priest, thy mercy will avail me little." 
 
 "I will grant thee mercy upon one condition," 
 Geraint replied, "that thou go to King Arthur's 
 court and make amends to Queen Guinevere for 
 the insult that was offered her by thy dwarf. As 
 
 156
 
 ffrom tbe nDabinogton 
 
 for the insult to me, for that I have myself taken 
 amends." 
 
 "This will I gladly do," said the knight, "and 
 who art thou?" 
 
 "I am Geraint, the son of Erbin. And declare 
 thou also who thou art." 
 
 "I am Ederyn, the son of Nudd," he replied. 
 
 Then he leaped upon his horse and rode sadly 
 forward to Arthur's court, his lady and his dwarf 
 going with him. 
 
 Then came the young earl with forty honorable 
 knights to Geraint and saluted him and bade him 
 come to his castle; but Geraint said he would lodge 
 that night where he had lodged before; and so he 
 returned with Earl Uniel and his wife and daugh- 
 ter to the old palace. 
 
 When they reached the chamber they found 
 there many servants and attendants whom the 
 young earl had sent to put the house in order, and 
 with large stores of provisions they set out a feast 
 in the great hall. They also brought fine gar- 
 ments for Uniel and the women; but Geraint en- 
 treated that the maiden should be dressed in her 
 vest and veil in which he had first seen her, until 
 she came to the court of King Arthur to be clad 
 in such garments as Queen Guinevere might 
 choose for her. So the maiden arrayed herself in 
 the garments which she had on when Geraint first 
 saw her. 
 
 Then they all sat down to the feast, and in the 
 
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 Wonfcer Storied 
 
 highest places were Geraint, the young earl, the 
 old earl and his wife, and the maiden, whose name 
 was Enid. So they feasted and had good cheer. 
 
 When the feast was over, the young earl asked 
 Geraint to visit him the next day; but Geraint re- 
 fused, saying that he must go to the court of King 
 Arthur with the maiden on the morrow. 
 
 "I go," he said, "to seek aid for Earl Uniel, who 
 is in great trouble, having lost his possessions." 
 
 "Ah, chieftain," said the young earl, "it is my 
 fault that Earl Uniel is without his possessions; 
 and with regard to the disagreement between him 
 and me, I will gladly abide by thy counsel, and 
 agree to what thou mayst judge right between us." 
 
 "Then," said Geraint, "I but ask thee to re- 
 store to him what is his, and what he should have 
 received from the time he lost his possessions even 
 until this day." 
 
 "That will I gladly do for thee," said the young 
 earl. 
 
 "Then," said Geraint, "whosoever is here who 
 owes homage to Uniel, let him come forward, and 
 perform it on the spot." 
 
 And all the men did so; and by that treaty they 
 abided. And his castle and his town, and all his 
 possessions were restored to Uniel. And he re- 
 ceived back all that he had lost, even to the 
 smallest jewel. 
 
 Then spoke Earl Uniel to Geraint, saying, "Oh, 
 Knight, behold the maiden for whom thou didst 
 
 158
 
 challenge at the tournament; thou hast won her, 
 and gladly I bestow her upon thee." 
 
 "She shall go with me," said Geraint, "to the 
 court of King Arthur, and there will we be wedded 
 with all ceremony." 
 
 Then Enid with heart full of sweet and modest 
 thoughts, cast her eyes upon her faded dress and 
 thought it never yet had looked so mean. "If he 
 would but tarry for a day or two, I would work 
 until my eyes were dim," she said to herself, "to 
 array myself so that I should not discredit him." 
 
 And thus she fell to longing for a dress that her 
 mother had given her some three years before, but 
 which had been lost on the unhappy night when 
 they had been driven from their palace. As she 
 thus mused, lo ! her mother came to her with the 
 self same dress, which the young earl had restored 
 to her, at which Enid's heart was full of joy. 
 
 On the morrow when she rose she arrayed her- 
 self in this costly dress, proud to have Geraint see 
 her thus appareled. But Geraint when he saw 
 her, said, "Not in this costly robe, but in the sim- 
 ple dress in which first I saw thee; for our great 
 Queen hath made me promise that whatever bride 
 I brought, she herself would clothe her in the 
 raiment that she chose." 
 
 Then Enid, silently, her mother silent also as 
 she aided her, laid aside the costly robe and robed 
 herself in her plain and much worn suit again, and 
 came to Geraint, who as he saw her gave her a 
 
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 Member Storie0 
 
 kindly greeting, his heart being full of love for 
 her. At this her mother smiled for joy, though 
 half in tears, and wrapped her in a mantle, and 
 pressed a parting kiss upon her brow. Then 
 mounting their steeds, Enid rode with Geraint 
 toward King Arthur's court. 
 
 160
 
 .CHAPTER II 
 
 HOW GERAINT CAME TO THE COURT OF ARTHUR 
 
 IN THE meantime Arthur rode forward in pur- 
 suit of the white stag. The men were divided 
 into hunting parties, and the dogs were 
 let loose upon the stag. The last dog that was 
 let loose was the favorite dog of Arthur; Cavall 
 was his name. So fleet was he that he left all the 
 other dogs behind him, and soon reached and 
 turned the stag. At the second turn, the stag 
 came toward the hunting party of King Arthur; 
 and when Arthur espied the stag he set upon him, 
 and killed him and cut off his head. Then they 
 sounded the death horn, and all the hunters came 
 riding in and gathered around the dead stag. 
 
 Then came Kadyriaith to King Arthur and said 
 to him, "Behold, my lord, yonder is Queen Guine- 
 vere, and no one with her save only one maiden." 
 
 At this King Arthur said, "Command Gildas, 
 the son of Caw, and all the scholars of the court to 
 attend Queen Guinevere to the palace." And so 
 they did. 
 
 Then they all set forth again, holding converse 
 together concerning the head of the stag, to whom 
 it should be given. One wished it should be given 
 
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 Wlon&er Stories 
 
 to the lady best beloved by him and another to the 
 lady whom he loved best; and so as they -talked 
 about the matter they came to the palace. 
 
 When Arthur and Guinevere heard them dis- 
 puting about the head of the stag, Guinevere said 
 to the King, "My lord, this is my counsel concern- 
 ing the stag's head; let it not be given away until 
 Geraint, the son of Erbin, shall return from the er- 
 rand he is upon." 
 
 And Guinevere told Arthur what that errand 
 was; and when he heard it he said, "Right gladly 
 shall it be so." And thus it was settled. 
 
 The next day Guinevere caused a watch to be 
 set upon the ramparts to look for Geraint's com- 
 ing. And after midday they beheld an unhappy 
 little man upon a horse, and after him a dame or 
 a damsel also on horseback, and after her a knight 
 of large stature bowed down, and hanging his head 
 low and sorrowfully, and clad in broken and worth- 
 less armor. 
 
 As they came to the gate, one of the watch went 
 to Guinevere and told her what kind of people 
 they saw, and what aspect they bore. 
 
 "I know not who they are," said he. 
 
 "But I know," said Guinevere; "this is the 
 knight whom Geraint pursued; and methinks he 
 comes not here of his own free will; but Geraint 
 has overtaken him, and avenged the insult to the 
 maiden to the uttermost." 
 
 And thereupon, behold, a porter came to the 
 
 162
 
 Jftrom tbe flDabtnoaion 
 
 place where Guinevere was, and said, "Lady, at 
 the gate there is a knight, and I never saw a man of 
 so pitiful an aspect to look upon as he. The ar- 
 mor that he wears is miserable and broken, and 
 the stain of blood upon it is more conspicuous than 
 its own color." 
 
 "Knowest thou his name?" said she. 
 
 "I do," he replied; "he tells me that he is 
 Edeyrn, the son of Nudd." 
 
 Then she replied, "1 know him not." 
 
 So Guinevere went to the gate to meet him; 
 and as she saw his sad plight she couH not but pity 
 him, even though the churlish dwarf was with him. 
 Then he saluted Guinevere and told her all that 
 had befallen him, and what Geraint had done, and 
 that Geraint had compelled him to come hither 
 and do the Queen's pleasure for the insult he had 
 done to the maiden. 
 
 Then Arthur came to them, and gazing a long 
 Itime upon the knight, asked him if he was not 
 Edeyrn, the son of Nudd, to which the knight re- 
 plied that he was. He then told Arthur all his 
 adventure. 
 
 "Well," said Arthur, "from what I hear, it be- 
 hooves Queen Guinevere to be merciful towards 
 thee." 
 
 To which Queen Guinevere replied, "The mercy 
 which thou desirest, my lord, will I grant him, 
 since it is as insulting to thee that an insult should 
 be offered to me as to thyself." 
 
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 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 "This will be best," said Arthur; "and now let 
 him have medical care to see whether he may live.'* 
 
 So it was settled that he should be put in charge 
 of the leeches, and when he was recovered, should 
 give such satisfaction to the Queen as the knights 
 of the Round Table might judge to be fitting. 
 
 The next day came Geraint to Caerleon, and as 
 they saw him coming with the maiden clad in 
 white, Queen Guinevere commanded to assemble 
 all the women to welcome them and wish them 
 joy. And when Geraint came to the place where 
 Guinevere was, he saluted her. 
 
 "Heaven prosper thee," said the queen, "and 
 welcome to thee. And Heaven reward thee that 
 thou hast so proudly avenged my wrong." 
 
 To which Geraint replied, "Lady, it was my de- 
 sire to obtain satisfaction for thee according to thy 
 will; and behold here is the maiden through whom 
 thou hadst thy revenge." 
 
 "Verily," said Guinevere, "the welcome of 
 Heaven be unto her; and it is fitting that we should 
 receive her joyfully." 
 
 Then came King Arthur and welcomed him also 
 with many words of praise saying, "Heaven pro- 
 tect thee, and the welcome of Heaven be unto 
 thee. And since Edeyrn, the son of Nudd, has re- 
 ceived his overthrow and wounds from thy hands, 
 thou hast had a prosperous career." 
 
 "It was his fault through his arrogance that we 
 
 164
 
 jftom the flDabinogion 
 
 fought, and I would not quit him until one of us 
 was vanquished," replied Geraint. 
 
 "But where is the maiden," inquired Arthur, 
 "for whom I heard thou didst give challenge?" 
 
 "She is gone with Guinevere to her chamber," 
 Geraint replied. 
 
 Then Arthur went to see the maiden; and he 
 and all the court gave her a right glad welcome. 
 The Queen attired her in some of her own rich 
 raiment, and they all said that they had never seen 
 any one who was more beautiful than she. 
 
 Soon after this, Enid and Geraint were wedded 
 with all ceremony, Arthur giving away the 
 maiden to the knight. And that day and the night 
 were spent in minstrelsy, and with ample gifts of 
 wine and a multitude of games. And when the 
 hour of rejoicing was over they found a bridal 
 chamber had been provided for them in the cham- 
 ber of the King and Queen. 
 
 And so they took up their abode in the palace. 
 And Enid had many companions, both men and 
 women; and there was no maiden more esteemed 
 than she in all the Island of Britain. 
 
 Meantime the Queen reminded them of the 
 head of the stag which Arthur had slain, saying 
 that here is a fit occasion for bestowing it. "Let 
 it be given," she said, "to Enid, the daughter of 
 Uniel, the most illustrious maiden. No one will 
 begrudge it to her, I know, for between her and 
 
 165
 
 every one here there exists nothing but love and 
 friendship." 
 
 This was much applauded by them all, and es- 
 pecially by the king. So the head of the stag was 
 given to Enid; and thereupon her fame increased 
 and her friends became more in number than be- 
 fore. And Geraint and Enid abode in the palace 
 for three years. And Geraint won great honors in 
 jousting and hunting, and his fame spread over the 
 face of the kingdom, 
 
 166
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 HOW GERAINT RETURNED FROM CORNWALL 
 
 NOW as King Arthur was holding court at 
 Caerleon, behold there came ambassadors, 
 wise and prudent, and full of knowledge 
 and eloquence of speech, and they saluted the 
 King. 
 
 "Heaven prosper you," said King Arthur, "and 
 the welcome of Heaven be unto you! And 
 whence do you come?" 
 
 "We come," they said, "from Cornwall, being 
 ambassadors of King Erbin, thy uncle; and our 
 mission is unto thee. Thy uncle is growing old 
 and waxes heavy and feeble; and the neighboring 
 chiefs knowing this, grow insolent towards him, 
 and covet his lands and possessions. Wherefore 
 he earnestly beseeches thee to permit Geraint, his 
 son, to return to him to protect his possessions; 
 it being better for him to spend the flower of his 
 youth and the prime of his age in preserving his 
 own boundaries, than in tournaments in which 
 there is no profit, although he obtains glory in 
 them." 
 
 "Well," said King Arthur, "go and divest your- 
 selves of your armor and refresh yourselves after 
 
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 Member Storied 
 
 your fatigue; and before you go forth hence you 
 shall have an answer." 
 
 So they went to eat. 
 
 Now King Arthur was much grieved to think of 
 letting Geraint depart from him and his court, 
 though he did not think it fair that he should be 
 kept from going to protect his own dominions, 
 seeing that his father was unable to do so. No 
 less was the grief and regret of Queen Guinevere, 
 and of all her women, and all her damsels, through 
 fear that Enid would leave them. 
 
 Then Arthur told Geraint the cause of the mis- 
 sion, and of the request of the ambassadors to him 
 from Cornwall. And Geraint said, "Truly, be it 
 my advantage or otherwise, I will do in this mat- 
 ter according to thy will." 
 
 To this the King replied, "Though it grieves me 
 to part with thee, it is my counsel that thou listen 
 to the request of thy father, and go to protect thy 
 possessions. And thou mayst take with thee as 
 many as thou wilt of those thou lovest among my 
 faithful ones, and among thy friends, and among 
 thy companions in arms." 
 
 "Heaven reward thee, noble King, for thy good- 
 ness to me," said Geraint, "and what thou advisest 
 that will I do." 
 
 The Queen, hearing of the ambassadors and the 
 talk of Arthur and Geraint, said, "What is this dis- 
 course I hear between you? Is it of those who are 
 to conduct Geraint to his country?" 
 
 168
 
 Jftom tbe flDafcinogfon 
 
 "It is," said the King. 
 
 "Then it is needful for one to consider," said she, 
 "concerning companions and a provision for the 
 lady that is with me." 
 
 "Thou wilt do well," said Arthur, "in doing so." 
 
 The next day the ambassadors were permitted 
 to depart, being told that Geraint would soon fol- 
 low them. On the third day Geraint and Enid set 
 forth, and many brave knights and beautiful 
 women went with them. Never was there seen a 
 fairer host journeying toward the Severn. 
 
 Now upon the other side of the Severn were 
 the nobles of Erbin with his foster father at their 
 head, who came to welcome Geraint, and many 
 women of the court, with his mother, came to re- 
 ceive Enid, his wife. 
 
 And there was great rejoicing and gladness 
 throughout the whole court, and throughout all 
 the country, concerning Geraint, because of their 
 love for him, and the greatness of the fame which 
 he had gained since he went from amongst them; 
 and because he had now returned to take posses- 
 sion of his dominions and to preserve his boun- 
 daries. 
 
 And so they came to court. And in the court 
 they had ample entertainment, and a multitude of 
 gifts, and an abundance of wine, and a variety of 
 minstrelsy and games. And to do honor to Ge- 
 raint, all the chief men of the country were invited 
 
 169
 
 TWUmfcer Storied 
 
 to visit him; and they passed that day and that 
 night in the utmost enjoyment. 
 
 At dawn next day, Erbin arose and summoned 
 to him Geraint, and the noble persons who had 
 borne him company. And he said to Geraint, "I 
 am a feeble and aged man, and whilst I was able 
 to maintain the dominion for thee and for myself 
 I did so. But thou art young and in the flower of 
 thy youth. Henceforth do thou preserve my 
 possessions." 
 
 "Truly," said Geraint, "with my consent thou 
 shalt not give the power over thy dominions at 
 this time into my hands, and thou shalt not take 
 me from Arthur's court." 
 
 "Into thy hands will I give them," said Erbin; 
 "and this day also shalt thou receive the homage 
 of thy subjects." 
 
 Now while Geraint thought upon his father's 
 words, Gawaine, one of the knights of King Ar- 
 thur who had accompanied him, said, "It were 
 better for thee to satisfy those who have boons to 
 ask to-day, and to-morrow thou canst receive the 
 homage of thy dominions." 
 
 So all that had boons to ask were summoned 
 into one place. And every one, as requested, 
 asked that which he desired. And the followers 
 of Arthur began to make gifts; and immediately 
 the men of Cornwall came and they made gifts 
 also. And they were not long in giving, so eager 
 was everyone to bestow gifts. And of those who 
 
 170
 
 Jftom tbe n&abinooiort 
 
 came to ask gifts, not one departed unsatisfied; 
 and the day and night were spent in utmost enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 The next day, at dawn, Erbin desired Geraint to 
 send messengers to the men to ask them whether 
 it was pleasing to them that he should come to 
 receive their homage, and whether they had any- 
 thing to object to him. So Geraint sent ambassa- 
 dors to the men of Cornwall to ask them this. And 
 they all said that it would be the fulness of joy and 
 honor to them for Geraint to come and receive 
 their homage. So he received the homage of all 
 those who were there. 
 
 And the day after, the followers of Arthur in- 
 tended to return to Caerleon. But Geraint said, 
 "It is too soon for you to go away yet; stay with 
 me until I have finished receiving the homage 
 of my chief men, who have agreed to come to 
 me." 
 
 And so they tarried with him until all the people 
 had paid their homage to Geraint, and then they 
 took their departure to their own country. And 
 Geraint went with them to bear them company, 
 and Enid also, as far as Diganhwy, and there they 
 parted. 
 
 As soon as they were gone, Ondyaw, the son of 
 the Duke of Burgundy, said to Geraint, "Go now, 
 and visit the uttermost parts of thy dominions, and 
 see well to the boundaries of thy territories; and
 
 Member 
 
 if thou hast any trouble respecting them, send unto 
 us thy companions." 
 
 "Heaven reward thee !" said Geraint. "And this 
 which thou advisest will I do." 
 
 So Geraint journeyed to the uttermost parts of 
 his dominions; and experienced guides and the 
 chief men of his country went with him. And the 
 furthermost point that they showed him he kept 
 possession of; and he won his people's love and he 
 had great fame throughout the land. 
 
 172
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 V 
 
 HOW ENID AND GERAINT BECAME UNHAPPY 
 
 AND now Geraint ruled in his father's place, 
 and all the land was at peace. He held 
 tournaments as at Arthur's court, and met 
 many valiant and mighty men, until he had gained 
 as much fame there as he had formerly done else- 
 where. He enriched his court, and his com- 
 panions, and his nobles, with the best horses and 
 the best arms, and with the best and most val- 
 uable jewels, and he ceased not until his fame had 
 flown over the face of the whole kingdom. But 
 after a while he grew tired of these sports, and 
 began to love ease and pleasure. And on account 
 of his great love for Enid, he spent all his time 
 with her in the palace with minstrelsy and diver- 
 sions, and neglected knightly sports and the com- 
 pany of his nobles, insomuch that he began to lose 
 the hearts of the people. And there was murmur- 
 ing and scoffing concerning him among the peo- 
 ple of the palace. 
 
 Now when Erbin heard of these things, he 
 spoke to Enid and asked her whether it was she 
 who had caused Geraint to leave his sports and 
 forsake his people and his hosts. 
 
 173
 
 TOonber Storied 
 
 "Not I, by my confession unto Heaven," she re- 
 plied, "for there is nothing more hateful unto me 
 than this." 
 
 And she knew not what she should do, for al- 
 though it was hard for her to tell her thoughts to 
 Geraint, yet was it not more easy for her to listen 
 to what she heard, without warning Geraint con- 
 cerning it. And she was very sorrowful. 
 
 One morning in the summer time, as they were 
 lying on the couch in their chamber, Enid was 
 awake, but Geraint slept. The clothes had slipped 
 from off his arm and breast, and as she gazed upon 
 his manly beauty she exclaimed, "Alas! am I the 
 cause that these arms and this breast have lost 
 their glory, and the warlike fame they once so 
 richly enjoyed! If so I cannot be a true wife to 
 him." 
 
 As she thus spoke, the tears dropped from her 
 eyes and fell on her husband's breast, so that he 
 awoke. Hearing her closing words but imper- 
 fectly, and seeing her in tears, the thought entered 
 his mind that she loved some other man more 
 than himself, and wished for other society. 
 
 Thereupon Geraint was troubled in his mind, 
 and springing quickly from his couch, he called 
 his squire and bade him get ready his horse and 
 arms. 
 
 "And do thou arise," he sternly said to Enid, 
 "and apparel thyself in the worst riding dress thou 
 hast in thy possession, and cause thy horse to be 
 
 174
 
 efrjc spokt tt^c tears dropped from 
 tier crcs on fycr i)u^ban^ breast */ 1
 
 jftom tbe fl&abinoafon 
 
 got ready; and evil betide me if we return here 
 until thou knowest whether I have lost my 
 strength so completely as thou didst say. If that 
 be so, then will it be easy for thee to seek the so- 
 ciety of him of whom thou wast thinking." 
 
 So Enid arose, and clothed herself in her mean- 
 est garments, in the faded silk in which he had first 
 seen her and loved her so well; but she said, "I 
 know nothing of thy meaning, my lord." 
 
 "Neither wilt thou know at this time/' he an- 
 swered roughly. 
 
 Then Geraint went to Erbin, and told him he 
 was going on a quest, and it was uncertain when 
 he would return. And when Erbin asked him who 
 would accompany him he said that only one person 
 would go with him, but did not tell him who that 
 person was. Then he mounted his horse and rode 
 forth with Enid, charging her to ride on before 
 him, and whatever she might hear or see, not to 
 turn back or speak to him unless he first spoke to 
 her. The road which he chose was wild and beset 
 with thieves and robbers and vicious animals. 
 
 As they thus rode, he was saying to himself how 
 he had wasted time on her to keep her true and 
 yet had failed; while she was ever praying the 
 sweet heavens to save her dear lord from every 
 danger, and casting about in her mind to know 
 the reason of this statement, and wherein she had 
 failed in her duty toward him. 
 
 175
 
 Member Storiee 
 
 They thus rode on until they came to a high 
 road which led them into a vast forest. 
 
 Soon Enid, who rode on before, saw four armed 
 horsemen lying in wait, and heard one of them 
 say to the others, "Here is a good occasion for 
 us to capture two horses and armor, and a lady 
 likewise; for we can easily master yonder knight 
 who hangs his head so pensively and heavily." 
 
 When Enid heard this she knew not what to do, 
 for Geraint had charged her not to speak to him. 
 "Yet," she said to herself, "I would rather have 
 my death from his hand than from that of any 
 other, and though he slay me yet will I speak to 
 him rather than endure the misery of seeing him 
 slain." 
 
 So she waited for Geraint until he came near 
 to her; and then she said kindly, "My lord, did you 
 hear the words of those men concerning thee ?" 
 
 At this Geraint raised his eyes and looked at her 
 angrily, and said, "Did I not bid thee hold thy 
 peace? I only wish for silence, and not warning. 
 And though thou shouldst desire to see me slain 
 by these men, yet do I feel no dread." 
 
 Then the foremost of the robbers couched his 
 spear, and rushed against Geraint, who received 
 the stroke against his shield, and thrust his own 
 lance through the other's body. At this the other 
 robbers, one after another, rushed upon him, but 
 he slew them as he did the first. He then dis- 
 mounted and took the arms of the men he had 
 
 176
 
 from tbc flDalrinoflion 
 
 slain and placed them on their saddles and tied 
 together the reins of the horses. Then he 
 mounted his horse again, and bade Enid to ride 
 before him and drive the horses; and again he for- 
 bade her to speak to him unless he first spoke to 
 her. 
 
 In that manner they went through the forest, 
 and then came out on a vast plain, across which 
 Enid saw three armed knights coming toward 
 them; and she heard them say that it would be easy 
 to take all the spoil from one dolorous knight. 
 Again was Enid full of fear for Geraint, and she 
 turned back and waited until Geraint came up to 
 her, and warned him of the purpose of the three 
 knights. 
 
 At which Geraint with angry voice and frown- 
 ing brow, said, "I declare to Heaven that all they 
 can do to me is less grievous to me than that thou 
 wilt not be silent as I bid thee." 
 
 "My lord," she answered meekly, "I feared lest 
 they should surprise thee unawares." 
 
 "Hold thy peace, then," replied Geraint, "for I 
 desire thy silence." 
 
 Straightway the three knights fell upon Ge- 
 raint, but they fared no better than the others 
 had done, for he slew them all, and added their 
 arms and horses to the other spoil which was in 
 Enid's charge, and bade her ride before him and 
 keep silence. 
 
 And the lady went on with the horses be- 
 
 177
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 fore her, and she pursued her way straight on- 
 wards. And at a great distance from them they 
 beheld a wood, and they could see neither end nor 
 boundary to the wood, except on that side that 
 was nearest to them, and they went towards it. 
 And there came riding out of the wood five horse- 
 men, mounted upon large and powerful chargers. 
 And when they drew near to them, Enid heard 
 them say, "Behold, here is a fine booty coming to 
 us, which we shall obtain easily without labor, for 
 we shall have no trouble in taking all those horses 
 and arms, and the lady also, from yonder single 
 knight so doleful and sad." 
 
 Sorely grieved was the lady upon hearing 
 this discourse so that she knew not in the world 
 what she should do. At last she determined to 
 warn Geraint, and so she turned her horse's head 
 towards him, and told him what she had heard. 
 
 Angrily and bitterly did Geraint smile upon her, 
 and he said, "Thee do I hear doing everything that 
 I forbade thee; but it may be that thou wilt repent 
 this yet." 
 
 And immediately the men met them and rode 
 upon Geraint to overthrow him; but he overcame 
 them all five. And he placed the five suits of ar- 
 mor upon the five saddles, and tied together the 
 reins of the twelve horses, and gave them in 
 charge of Enid, saying, "I know not what good it 
 is for me to order thee; but this time I charge 
 
 178
 
 Jtom tbe flDaWnogion 
 
 thee in an especial manner not to speak to me 
 again." 
 
 So the lady went forward towards the wood, 
 keeping in advance of Geraint and driving the 
 horses, as he had bidden her to do; and it grieved 
 him as much as his wrath would permit to see a 
 maiden so illustrious as she and one he loved so 
 dearly, having so much trouble with the care of 
 the horses. In time they reached the wood, and 
 it was both deep and vast, and while in this wood 
 the night overtook them. 
 
 "Ah, my lady," said he, "it is in vain to attempt 
 to go any further to-night." 
 
 To which she gently answered, "Well, my lord, 
 whatever thou wishest we will do." 
 
 "It will be best for us," he answered, "to turn 
 out of the wood, and to rest and wait for the day, 
 in order to pursue our journey." 
 
 "That will we gladly," she replied. And so they 
 did. 
 
 Having dismounted himself he took her down 
 from her horse. As he lay down to rest he said to 
 Enid, "While I cannot refrain from sleep through 
 weariness, do thou watch the horses and sleep 
 not." 
 
 "I will, my lord," she replied. 
 
 Then he went to sleep in his armor; and thus 
 passed the night, which was not long at that sea- 
 son. When Enid saw the dawn appear, she looked 
 
 179
 
 WDonfter Stories 
 
 around to see if he were waking, and thereupon he 
 awoke. 
 
 "My lord," she said, "I have desired to awake 
 thee for some time." 
 
 Then he arose and said to her, "Take the horses 
 and ride forward and keep straight on as thou 
 didst yesterday." 
 
 So they rode on until they came to an open 
 country with meadows in which mowers were 
 mowing the grass. And before them was a river, 
 and as they rode into it their horses bent down 
 their heads and drank the water. As they went 
 up out of the river by a lofty steep there met them 
 a tender stripling who asked them whither they 
 were journeying. And when Geraint had told 
 him, he took them to the town, which was a fair 
 city, and found them pleasant lodgings, and then 
 went to tell the earl of the place of his adventures. 
 
 "Go to the knight," said the earl, "and say to 
 him that I will gladly receive him into my palace." 
 
 So the youth went to Geraint and told him that 
 the earl would gladly receive him into his palace; 
 but Geraint said that he would rather go to his 
 own lodgings. He had a goodly chamber, in which 
 was plenty of straw, and drapery, and a spacious 
 and commodious place he had for horses; and the 
 youth prepared for them plenty of provender. 
 
 After they had disarrayed themselves, Geraint 
 said to Enid, "Go to the other side of the chamber 
 and come not to this side of the house, and thou 
 
 i So
 
 JJtom the fl&abinooiott 
 
 mayest call to thee the woman of the house, it 
 thou wilt." 
 
 "I will do, my lord," said Enid, "as thou dost 
 request." 
 
 And after they had eaten and drank they went 
 to sleep. 
 
 The next day the earl to whom the city be- 
 longed, came to visit Geraint, bringing with him 
 twelve honorable knights. The name of the earl 
 was Earl Durm. And he asked Geraint the object 
 of his journey, to which Geraint replied that it was 
 to seek adventures and follow his own inclinations. 
 Then the earl cast his eye upon Enid, and he 
 looked at her steadfastly; and he thought he had 
 never seen a maiden fairer or more comely than 
 she, and he set his thoughts and affections upon 
 her. Then he asked of Geraint, "Have I thy per- 
 mission to go and converse with yonder maiden, 
 for I see that she is apart from thee." 
 
 "Thou hast it gladly," replied Geraint. 
 
 So the earl went to Enid and said, "Fair maiden, 
 it cannot be pleasant to thee to journey with yon- 
 der man." 
 
 "It is not unpleasant for me to journey with 
 him," she replied. 
 
 "But thou hast neither youths nor maidens to 
 serve thee," he said. 
 
 "Truly," she replied, "it is more pleasant for 
 me to follow yonder man, than to be served by 
 youths and maidens." 
 
 181
 
 As he thus talked with her, he became inflamed 
 with her beauty, and he said, "Listen to my coun- 
 sel; all my earldom will I give thee if thou wilt 
 dwell with me." 
 
 "That will I not," she answered, "for yonder 
 man was the first to whom my faith was ever 
 pledged; and shall I prove inconstant to him?" 
 
 "Thou art foolish," the earl replied; "for if I slay 
 thy lord I can take thee with me even against thy 
 will, and when I am tired of thee, can turn thee 
 away. But if thou wilt go with me of thine own 
 good will, I swear that I will remain true to thee 
 as long as I may live." 
 
 Then Enid took counsel with herself how she 
 might save her lord even if she might seem to en- 
 courage the earl's desires. So she said to the earl, 
 "Then to save me from needless reproach, come 
 here to-morrow and take me away as though I 
 knew nothing of the matter." 
 
 To this he assented gladly, and took his leave. 
 And she told not then Geraint of the conversation 
 she had had with the earl, lest it should rouse his 
 anger and bring him into danger. So they both 
 went to sleep; but at midnight she arose and 
 placed all Geraint's armor together so that it 
 might be ready to put on. And then in fear she 
 came to the side of Geraint's bed, and spake to 
 him softly and gently, saying, "My lord, arise, and 
 clothe thyself, for these were the words of the earl 
 
 182
 
 Jfrom tbe flDabtnoaion 
 
 to me, and his intention concerning me." So she 
 told Geraint all that had passed. 
 
 And although he seemed very wroth with her 
 for speaking, yet he took warning and armed him- 
 self while she lighted a candle that he might have 
 light to do so. Then he told her to put down the 
 candle and call the man of the house to come to 
 him. And he asked the man how much he owed 
 him, to which the man said that the sum was little; 
 but Geraint gave him all the horses and the armor 
 that he had taken from the robbers, asking only 
 of the man that he should guide him out of the 
 town by a different way from that by which they 
 entered it. To this the man agreed, and went with 
 him as far as was desired. Then Geraint bade the 
 lady ride before him, as heretofore, and the host 
 returned home. 
 
 The host had just reached his house when be- 
 hold, the greatest tumult approached that was 
 ever heard. And when he looked out, he saw four 
 score knights in complete armor around the house, 
 with the Earl Durm at their head. 
 
 "Where is the knight that was here?" said the 
 earl. 
 
 "By thy hand," said he, "he went hence some 
 time ago." 
 
 "Wherefore, villain," said he, "didst thou let 
 him go without informing me?" 
 
 "My lord, thou didst not command me to do so, 
 else would I not have allowed him to depart." 
 
 183
 
 Member Stories 
 
 "What way dost thou think he took?" 
 
 "I know not, except that he went along the high 
 road." 
 
 Then they turned their horses' heads that way, 
 and seeing the tracks of the horses upon the high 
 road, they followed. Enid was fearful as she rode 
 along that they might be pursued by the wicked 
 earl. As the morning dawned she looked behind 
 her, and saw vast clouds of dust coming nearer and 
 nearer to her. And thereupon she became uneasy, 
 and she thought it was the earl and his hosts com- 
 ing after them. 
 
 "By my faith," she said, "I must speak to my 
 lord, for though he slay me, it were better for me 
 to receive my death at his hands than to see him 
 killed without warning him." 
 
 So she turned to her lord and said, "My lord, 
 seest thou yonder man hastening after thee, and 
 many others with him?" 
 
 "I do see him," said he, "and, in despite of all 
 my orders, I see that thou wilt never keep silence." 
 
 Still he turned his horse and met the knights, 
 and every knight who came up he overthrew. The 
 earl assailed him last and they fought a long time; 
 but at last Geraint struck him so hard a blow with 
 his lance upon the center of his shield that he split 
 his shield and threw him from his horse to the 
 ground, and so hard was his fall that for awhile he 
 was senseless. As soon as he revived he cried for 
 mercy, the which Geraint granted him. 
 
 184
 
 from tbe HDabinogion 
 
 Then Geraint and Enid pursued their journey, 
 and they came to a valley with a river running 
 through it, over which was a bridge. And on the 
 other side of the river they saw a walled town, one 
 of the finest they had ever seen. As they ap- 
 proached the bridge they met a knight mounted 
 upon a large and spirited steed, and Geraint asked 
 him to whom the valley and the town belonged. 
 He answered that they were in the hands of a peri- 
 lous knight that was called the Little King. 
 
 Then the knight warned him not to cross the 
 bridge unless he wished to combat with the Little 
 King. "And if thou dost so," he said, "thou wilt 
 probably meet with shame and disgrace for thy 
 daring." 
 
 But Geraint would not be turned from his pur- 
 pose; so he rode on over the bridge and Enid with 
 him. On the other side he saw a knight that was 
 very small of stature mounted on a great war 
 horse broad-chested and full of spirit. And both 
 he and the horse were completely armed. 
 
 Seeing Geraint, he said, "Tell me, knight, is it 
 through ignorance or presumption that you seek 
 to insult me and infringe my rules?" 
 
 "Nay," said Geraint, "I knew not that this road 
 was forbid to any." 
 
 "Thou didst know it," said the other. "There- 
 fore come with me now to my court, and give me 
 satisfaction." 
 
 "That will I not," said Geraint. "I would not go 
 
 185
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 even to thy lord's court, excepting Arthur was 
 thy lord." 
 
 "By the hand of Arthur himself," said the knight, 
 "I will have satisfaction of thee here or receive 
 my overthrow at thy hands." 
 
 With that the Little King rode upon Geraint 
 and they fought together a long time on their 
 horses, and they gave each other so many hard and 
 severe strokes that their shields lost all their color. 
 And it was exceedingly difficult for Geraint to 
 strike the Little King because he was so small of 
 stature; but at last he gave him a fair stroke and 
 threw him headlong to the ground. Then they 
 drew their swords and fought on foot, and gave 
 each other many painful wounds, so that their hel- 
 mets were pierced, and their skull caps were 
 broken, and the light of their eyes was darkened 
 with blood. 
 
 At length Geraint became enraged, and called 
 to him all his strength, and struck the other so 
 fierce a blow that it shattered his helmet and 
 wounded him in the head even to the bone. Then 
 the Little King dropped his sword and besought 
 Geraint that he would have mercy and compassion 
 on him. This Geraint granted on condition that 
 the Little King should always be his ally, and 
 consent to come to his assistance if ever it was 
 needed. To this the Little King willingly pledged 
 himself; and then he begged Geraint to come to 
 his court, so that he might recover from his fa- 
 
 186
 
 ffrom tbe 
 
 tigue; but to this Geraint would not consent, but 
 insisted on continuing on his journey, though he 
 was sorely wounded. So he mounted his horse in 
 pain and all covered with blood. And the lady 
 went on first, and they proceeded towards the 
 wood which they saw before them. 
 
 f 
 
 187
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 HOW GERAINT MET ARTHUR AND GAWAINE 
 
 WHEN they had ridden a little while, Ge- 
 raint's wounds began to pain more than 
 at first; and to escape the heat of the sun, 
 which was very great, he went into a wood and 
 stood under a tree. Enid followed him in silence 
 and stood not far away under another tree. 
 
 Suddenly they heard the sound of horns and a 
 great noise of clashing arms; and as they looked 
 they saw that the reason for the noise was that 
 Arthur and his knights and ladies of the court 
 were come into the woods. And while Geraint 
 was considering which way he should go to avoid 
 them, behold he was espied by a foot-page, who 
 was an attendant on the steward of the household; 
 and he went to the steward, Sir Kay, and told 
 him of what kind of man he had seen in the wood. 
 Then the steward caused his horse to be saddled, 
 and he took his lance and his shield, and went to 
 the place where Geraint was. 
 
 "Ah, knight!" said Kay, "what dost thou here?" 
 "I am standing under a shady tree to avoid the 
 heat and the rays of the sun," replied Geraint. 
 
 188
 
 from the flDabinogton 
 
 "Wherefore is thy journey," asked Kay, "and 
 who art thou?" 
 
 "I seek adventures, and I go where I list." 
 
 "Indeed," said Kay, "then come with me to see 
 Arthur, who is here hard by." 
 
 "That will I not, by Heaven !" said Geraint. 
 
 "Thou must needs come," said Kay. 
 
 Then Geraint knew who it was, though Kay did 
 not know Geraint. And Kay attacked Geraint as 
 best he could. At this Geraint became wroth, and 
 he struck him with the shaft of his lance, so that 
 he rolled headlong to the ground. But chastise- 
 ment worse than this he would not inflict on him. 
 
 Tenified and wild Kay arose, and he mounted 
 his horse and went back to his lodging. And 
 thence he proceeded to the tent of Gawaine saying, 
 "O, sir ! I was told by an attendant that there is in 
 the wood a wounded knight, having a battered ar- 
 mor; and if thou dost right, thou wilt go and see if 
 this be true." 
 
 "I care not if I do," said Gawaine. So he took 
 his spear and shield and mounted his horse and 
 came to the place where Geraint was. 
 
 "Sir knight," said Gawaine, "wherefore is thy 
 journey?" 
 
 "I journey for my own pleasure, and to seek the 
 adventures of the world." 
 
 "Wilt thou tell me who thou art? Or wilt thou 
 come and visit Arthur, who is near at hand?" 
 
 "I will make no alliance with thee, nor will I go 
 
 189
 
 TOotfter Stories 
 
 to visit Arthur," said he. And he knew it was 
 Gawaine, but Gawaine knew not that he was Ge- 
 raint. 
 
 "I purpose not to leave thee," said Gawaine, "till 
 I know who thou art." And he charged him with 
 his lance, and struck him on his shield, so that the 
 shaft was shivered into splinters, and their horses 
 were front to front. Then Gawaine gazed fixedly 
 upon him and he knew him. 
 
 "Ah, Geraint!" said he, "is it thou that art 
 here?" 
 
 "I am not Geraint," said the knight, who with 
 the pain of his wounds and the agony of his mind, 
 divided between jealousy of Enid and sorrow and 
 love, was well nigh out of his wits. 
 
 "Geraint thou art, and I know thee well," an- 
 swered Gawaine, "and a wretched and insane ex- 
 pedition is this." 
 
 Thus saying, he looked around and saw Enid 
 and welcomed her right gladly. Then he en- 
 treated Geraint to come to the King. But Geraint 
 still refused, saying, "I will not, for I am not in a 
 fit state to see any one." 
 
 Thereupon, behold one of the pages came after 
 Gawaine to speak to him. So he sent him to ap- 
 prise Arthur that Geraint was there wounded, and 
 that he would not come to visit him, and that it 
 was pitiable to see the plight that he was in. And 
 this he did without Geraint's knowledge, inasmuch 
 as he spoke in a whisper to the page. 
 
 190
 
 "Entreat Arthur," said he, "to have his tent 
 brought near the road, for he will not meet him 
 willingly, and it is not easy to compel him in the 
 mood he is in." 
 
 So the page came to Arthur, and told this. And 
 the King caused his tent to be removed unto the 
 side of the road; and the lady rejoiced in her 
 heart when she saw what was done. Then Ga- 
 waine led Geraint onwards along the road, till they 
 came to the place where Arthur was encamped, 
 and the pages were pitching his tent by the road- 
 side. 
 
 "Lord," said Geraint, "all hail to thee !" 
 
 "Heaven prosper thee! And who art thou?" 
 said Arthur. 
 
 "It is Geraint," said Gawaine," and of his own 
 free will would he not come to meet thee." 
 
 "Verily," said Arthur, "he is bereft of his rea- 
 son." 
 
 Then came Enid, and saluted Arthur. "Heaven 
 protect thee !" said he. And thereupon he caused 
 one of the pages to take her from her horse. 
 
 "Alas, Enid," said Arthur, "what expedition is 
 this?" 
 
 "I know not, my lord," said she, "save that it 
 behooves me to journey by the same road upon 
 which he journeys." 
 
 "My lord," said Geraint, "with thy permission 
 we will depart." 
 
 191
 
 WBonfter Stories 
 
 "Whither wilt them go?" said Arthur. "Thou 
 canst not proceed now, unless it be to thy death." 
 
 "I had rather, lord, that thou let me go." 
 
 "That will I not do, by heaven," Arthur replied. 
 
 Then he caused a maiden to be sent for to con- 
 duct Enid to the tent where Guinevere's chamber 
 was. And Guinevere and all her women were joy- 
 ful at her coming; and they took off her riding 
 dress and put other garments upon her. And Ar- 
 thur ordered a tent to be pitched for Geraint, and 
 a physician to be called, and that he be provided 
 with an abundance of anything he needed. 
 
 And Arthur and his hosts remained there for 
 nearly a month while Geraint was being healed. 
 And when he was fully recovered, Geraint came to 
 Arthur and asked his permission to depart. Then 
 Arthur summoned the physicians, and asked them 
 if Geraint was cured; and they told him that he 
 was. 
 
 So the next day Arthur gave his permission for 
 Geraint to continue on his adventures. And on the 
 day following Arthur removed thence. 
 
 192
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 HOW GERAINT AND ENID BECAME HAPPY AGAIN 
 
 SO Geraint and Enid went forth again; and Ge- 
 raint desired Enid to keep before him, as she 
 had done. And she went along the high road 
 as before. As they journeyed along the road, they 
 heard a loud wailing; and Geraint said, "Stand 
 thou here and I will go and see what is the cause 
 of this wailing." 
 
 "I will," she simply said in reply. 
 
 Then he went forward, and there, in an open 
 glade of the wood, he saw a damsel, young and 
 fair, bending over a knight who lay dead in his 
 armor. 
 
 "Ah, lady," said Geraint, "what hath befallen 
 thee?" 
 
 Looking up, she answered, "Sir, I was journey- 
 ing here with my beloved husband, when lo, three 
 giants came upon us, and, without any cause, they 
 slew him." 
 
 "Which way went they hence?" asked Geraint. 
 
 "Yonder, by the high road," she replied. 
 
 So he returned to Enid, and said, "Go to the 
 lady yonder and wait there till I come." 
 
 Enid was sad when he gave her this command, 
 
 193
 
 Member Stories 
 
 fearing that Geraint would never return to her, 
 but nevertheless she went to the damsel. 
 
 Meanwhile Geraint followed the giants and 
 overtook them. Each was as great in stature as 
 three common men, and carried in his hand a 
 large club. Geraint rushed upon them, and thrust 
 his lance through the body of one, and then drew 
 it forth and slew another in the same way. But 
 the third turned upon him, and struck him with 
 his club, so that the blow crushed his shoulder and 
 opened all his wounds anew, and the blood began 
 to flow from him. Then Geraint drew his sword, 
 and smote the giant so fiercely on the crown of his 
 head that it was split down to the shoulders, and 
 he fell down dead. So Geraint left him there and 
 returned to Enid; and when he reached the place 
 where she was he fell down lifeless from his horse. 
 
 Then Enid uttered a cry, piercing and loud and 
 thrilling; and she came and stood over him where 
 he had fallen. 
 
 Now it chanced that a wild earl called Limours, 
 with a great company, was traveling on the high 
 road; and he heard a great cry, and turned aside 
 to see what was the cause of it. Seeing Enid, the 
 earl said, "Fair lady, what hath befallen thee?" 
 
 "Ah, good sir," she said, "the only man I love 
 or ever shall love is slain." 
 
 Then he said to the other lady, "And what is 
 the cause of thy grief?" 
 
 194
 
 ffrom the nDabinogion 
 
 "They have slain my dear husband also," she re- 
 plied. 
 
 "Who was it that slew them ?" asked the earl. 
 
 "Some giants," she answered, "slew my best be- 
 loved; and the other knight went in pursuit of 
 them, and came tack in the state thou seest." 
 
 Then the earl caused the dead knight to be 
 buried; but it seemed to him that there was still 
 some life left in Geraint, so he had him carried 
 along with him in the hollow of his shield placed 
 upon a bier. And the two women followed. 
 
 When they came to the earl's mansion, Geraint 
 was placed upon a couch in the hall, in front of 
 the table that was in the hall, and Enid sat by his 
 side. The earl and his companions changed their 
 traveling dress; and he came and asked Enid to do 
 the same, but she refused. 
 
 When the earl saw the beauty of Enid, he said, 
 "Do not be so sorrowful whether yonder knight 
 live or die. Behold, a good earldom, together with 
 myself, will I bestow upon thee; be therefore 
 happy and joyful." 
 
 "I shall never henceforth be happy while I live," 
 said Enid. 
 
 "Come, then, and eat with us," quoth the earl. 
 
 "No, by Heaven, I will not," she answered. 
 
 "But by Heaven thou shalt," cried the earl. And 
 he forced her to come to the table, where he many 
 times bade her to eat. 
 
 "I call Heaven to witness," said she, "that I will 
 
 195
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 not eat till he that is on yonder couch shall eat like- 
 wise." 
 
 "Thou canst not fulfil that pledge," said the 
 earl, "for the man is already dead." 
 
 "I will prove that I can," she replied. 
 
 Then the earl offered her a goblet of wine, and 
 bade her drink, saying, "It will cause thee to 
 change thy mind." 
 
 But still she refused, saying, "Evil betide me, 
 if I drink ought until he drink also." 
 
 At this the earl grew very wroth and said to 
 her, "I see it is of no more avail for me to be gen- 
 tle with you than ungentle." 
 
 With that he did a most unknightly deed, for he 
 raised his hand and gave her a severe box upon 
 the ear. Thereupon Enid raised a sharp and pierc- 
 ing cry, and faced the earl and said, "You would 
 not have dared to do it if you had not thought my 
 lord was dead." 
 
 At the sound of her cry, Geraint, who had 
 fainted from pain and loss of blood, revived from 
 his swoon, and sat upon the bier, and finding his 
 sword in the hollow of the shield wherein he lay, 
 he rushed upon the earl where he sat, and struck 
 him so hard a blow that it clove him in twain until 
 the sword was stayed by the table. 
 
 At sight of that blow and the spectre of a dead 
 man rising from his bier, they all sprang up in fear, 
 and fled from the table; and left Geraint and Enid 
 alone. : 
 
 196
 
 fftom tbc flDabinogton 
 
 When Geraint looked upon Enid and saw how 
 pale she was and that she was weeping bitterly, his 
 heart was moved with pity towards her, and he 
 said, "Enid, I have used you worse than that dead 
 man, and done you greater wrong. And all the 
 trouble I have made you bear has made you thrice 
 my own; and henceforth I would rather die than 
 doubt your truth." 
 
 To this Enid could not say a single word, so 
 deep was the gladness in her heart. But fearing for 
 his life she cried, "Fly, my lord, for they will re- 
 turn and slay thee!" 
 
 Then Geraint asked her where their horses 
 were, to which she said, "I know where thy horse 
 is, my lord, but I know not where the other may 
 be; thy horse is in the house yonder." 
 
 So Geraint went to the house and brought forth 
 his horse, who neighed with gladness as they 
 came, and stooped with a low whinny toward them; 
 and Enid, in her joy, put her arm around his neck 
 and kissed the white star upon his head. 
 
 Then Geraint mounted quickly and reached 
 down his hand to Enid to help her on the horse; 
 and as she placed her foot upon his own to climb 
 he put his arm around her, and kissed her as she 
 climbed, while she in wifely tenderness clasped 
 her arms about him; and thus they rode away. 
 
 Thus they rode on with many an adventure until 
 they came to King Arthur's court. And when 
 they reached the camp, the king himself came 
 
 '97
 
 TOonfcer Storiee 
 
 forth to greet them, and beholding Enid's face so 
 pale and yet so happy, surmised the trouble, and 
 gently lifted her from the horse, kissing her as a 
 brother might, and showed her an empty tent into 
 which she passed and Geraint with her. Then the 
 king's own leech was sent to care for Geraint, and 
 Enid tended on him there; and her constant pres- 
 ence near him and her sweet and thoughtful min- 
 istrations filled all the courses of his blood with 
 deeper and ever deeper love. And so the days 
 passed as a happy dream. 
 
 And when Geraint was whole again, they went 
 with King Arthur to Caerleon upon the Usk, and 
 there Queen Guinevere once more met Enid, and 
 embraced her for the love she bore her, and 
 clothed her in suitable apparel. And after tarry- 
 ing there for a space, Geraint and Enid rode, with 
 fifty knights accompanying them, to the shores of 
 the Severn, and passed over to their own land of 
 Cornwall. 
 
 And there Geraint reigned for many years with 
 justice to his people, and won lasting renown, 
 being foremost in the chase and tournaments, so 
 that they gave him the title of the Great Prince. 
 And in his home reigned Enid, whom her ladies 
 loved to call Enid the Fair, while a grateful people 
 named her Enid the Good. 
 
 This story forms one of the chapters of Tennyson's 
 "Idyls of the King." It is not found in Malory's King 
 Arthur, as are the other stories of the "Idyls," but it is
 
 jftom tbe flDabinoaton 
 
 so similar in spirit and intrinsic interest that it is properly 
 associated with them. Tennyson's poem, though con- 
 taining some beautiful passages, does not improve upon 
 the Welsh original. It appeals less to human sympathy 
 and the sense of literary propriety on account of the more 
 cruel character ascribed to Geraint. As Stopford A. 
 Brooke says, "there is not a trace left in Geraint," as 
 reproduced by Tennyson. While Geraint's treatment of 
 Enid in the Mabinogion is cruel, in Tennyson it becomes 
 insulting and brutal. "It is quite out of character with 
 the days of chivalry in which the original story took its 
 form," adds Brooke. 
 
 This is an old tale showing man's injustice and cruelty 
 to woman and her patience and constancy under her 
 wrongs. It would be difficult to find among the pages of 
 romance a character of greater trust and simplicity than 
 that of Enid. Her character is admirably sustained 
 throughout the whole tale and is even more lovable and 
 touching than that of Griselda Enid is the Griselda of the 
 Welsh and may have been the prototype of the story as 
 told by Boccacio and Chaucer. The story as told here 
 omits many of the details of the original 
 
 199
 
 )8tx> ptopU Coon 13V,inntvon tor t^i* 
 
 NCE upon a time, Pwyll, Prince of Dyved, 
 was at Narberth, his palace, where a 
 feast had been prepared. And a great 
 host was with him, having been invited to the 
 feast. After the first meal was over, Pwyll arose 
 to walk, and he went to the top of a mound that 
 stood above the palace. The mound was high 
 and was called Gorsedd Arberth. As they stood 
 upon the mound one of the court said to him, 
 "Lord, it is peculiar to this mound that whosoever 
 sits upon it cannot go thence without receiving 
 wounds or blows, or else seeing a wonder." 
 
 "I fear not," answered Pwyll, "to receive 
 wounds and blows in the midst of such a host; but 
 as to the wonder that I would gladly see. I will 
 go therefore and sit upon the mound." 
 
 So he went and sat upon the mound waiting to 
 see the wonder. And while he sat there they saw 
 a lady, on a pure white horse of large size, with a 
 garment of shining gold around her, coming along 
 the highway that led from the mound. Her horse 
 
 200
 
 Jtom tbe nDaWnofiion 
 
 seemed to be moving at a slow and even pace, and 
 to be coming up toward the mound. 
 
 Then said Pwyll, "My men, is there any among 
 you who knows yonder lady?" 
 
 "There is not, lord," they replied. 
 
 "Go one of you and meet her," Pwyll said, "that 
 we may know who she is." 
 
 So one of the men arose, and as he came upon 
 the road to meet her, she passed by him. Then 
 he followed her as fast as he could go, being on 
 foot; but the greater his speed, the farther was she 
 from him. And when he saw that it profited him 
 nothing to follow her, he returned to Pwyll, and 
 said unto him, "Lord, it is idle for any one to fol- 
 low her on foot." 
 
 "Verily," replied Pwyll, "go unto the palace and 
 take the fleetest horse that thou canst find, and 
 ride after her." 
 
 So he went to the palace and took a horse and 
 rode forward with much speed after the lady. 
 Soon he came to an open level plain, and he put 
 spurs to his horse to ride still faster; but the more 
 he urged his horse the farther was the lady from 
 him. After a while his horse began to fail; so he 
 stopped his pursuit and returned to the place 
 where Pwyll was. 
 
 "Lord," said he, "it will avail nothing for any 
 one to follow yonder lady. I know of no horse in 
 this realm stronger than this, and it availed me 
 nothing to pursue her." 
 
 20 1
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 "Of a truth," said Pwyll, "there must be some 
 illusion here. Let us go toward the palace." 
 
 So to the palace they went and there they spent 
 the day. And the next day they arose, and after 
 their repast Pwyll said, "Let us go with the same 
 party as yesterday to the top of the mound. And 
 do thou," said he to one of the young men, "take 
 the swiftest horse that thou knowest in the field." 
 
 And thus the young man did; and they all went 
 towards the mound, taking the horse with them. 
 And as they were sitting down they beheld the 
 lady on the same horse as yesterday, and in the 
 same apparel, coming along the same road. Then 
 said Pwyll, "Behold, here is the lady of yesterday. 
 Make ready, youth, to learn who she is." And 
 thereupon the lady came opposite to them. 
 
 Then the youth mounted his horse; and before 
 he had settled himself in his saddle, she passed by 
 and he rode after her. Soon there was a clear 
 space between them, though her speed was no 
 greater than it was the day before. Then he put 
 his horse into an amble and thought that notwith- 
 standing the gentle pace at which his horse went 
 he would soon overtake her. But this availed him 
 not; so he gave his horse the reins. And still he 
 came no nearer to her than when he went at a 
 foot's pace. And the more he urged his horse the 
 farther was she from him; yet seemingly she rode 
 not faster than at first. 
 
 Now when he saw that he could not overtake 
 
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 the lady, he returned to the place where Pwyll was, 
 and said, "Lord, the horse can do no more than 
 thou hast seen." 
 
 "I see," replied Pwyll, "that it avails not that 
 any one should follow her. And, by Heaven," he 
 said, "she must have an errand to some one on 
 this plain, if her haste would allow her to declare 
 it. Let us go back to the palace." So to the pal- 
 ace they went, and they spent that night in songs 
 and feasting, as it pleased them. 
 
 And the next day again they amused themselves 
 until it was time to go to meat. And when meat 
 was ended Pwyll said, "Where are the hosts that 
 went yesterday and the day before to the top of 
 the mound?" 
 
 "Behold, Lord, we are here," said they. 
 
 "Let us go to the mound," he said again, "and 
 sit there. And do thou," he said to the page who 
 tended his horse, "saddle my horse well, and 
 hasten with nim to the road, and bring also my 
 spurs with thee." 
 
 So the youth did this as he was bidden; and they 
 all went ug and sat upon the mound as before. 
 When they had been there but a short time, they 
 beheld the lady coming by the same road, and in 
 the same manner, and at the same pace as before. 
 
 "Young man," said Pwyll, "I see the lady com- 
 ing; give me my horse." 
 
 And before he could mount his horse she passed 
 him; and he turned after her and followed her. 
 
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 Stories 
 
 At first he let his horse go bounding playfully 
 along, thinking that he should soon come up to 
 her; but he came no nearer to her than at first. 
 Then he urged his horse to his utmost speed, yet 
 still he found that it availed nothing to follow her. 
 
 Then said Pwyll, calling to the maiden, "O 
 maiden, for the sake of him whom thou best lovest, 
 stay for me." 
 
 "I will stay gladly," said she, "and it were better 
 for thy horse if thou hadst asked it long since." 
 
 So the maiden stopped. And fixing her eyes 
 on Pwyll, she began to talk with him. 
 
 "Lady," asked he, "whence comest thou, and 
 whereunto dost thou journey?" 
 
 "I journey on mine own errand," she replied, 
 "and right glad am I to see thee." 
 
 "My greeting be unto thee," he replied. 
 
 Then she threw back that part of her head dress 
 which covered her face; and he thought that the 
 beauty of all the maidens and all the ladies that 
 he had ever seen, was as nothing compared with 
 her beauty. 
 
 "Lady," he said, "wilt thou tell me aught con- 
 cerning thy purpose?" 
 
 "I will tell thee," said she; "my chief quest was 
 to seek thee." 
 
 "Behold," said Pwyll, "this is to me the most 
 pleasing quest upon which thou couldst have come. 
 And wilt thou tell me who thou art?" 
 
 To this the maiden answered, saying, "I will tell 
 
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 from tbe nDabinogton 
 
 thee, Lord. I am Rhiannon, the daughter of He- 
 veydd Hen, and they sought to give me a husband 
 against my will. But no husband would I have, 
 and that because of my love for thee; neither will 
 I yet have one unless thou reject me. And hither 
 have I come to hear thy answer." 
 
 "By Heaven," said Pwyll, "behold this is my an- 
 swer. If I might choose among all the ladies and 
 damsels in the world, thee would I choose." 
 
 "Verily," said she, "if thou art thus minded, 
 make a pledge to meet me ere I am given to an- 
 other." 
 
 "The sooner I do so the more pleasing it will 
 be to me," said Pwyll; "and wheresoever thou wilt, 
 there will I meet with thee." 
 
 "I will that thou meet me this day twelvemonth 
 at the palace of Heveydd. And I will cause a feast 
 to be prepared, so that it be ready against the time 
 that thou comest." 
 
 "Gladly," said he, "will I keep this tryst." 
 
 "Lord," said she, "remain in health, and be 
 mindful that thou keep this promise; and now will 
 I go hence." 
 
 So they parted, and he went back to his hosts 
 and to them of his household. And whatsoever 
 questions they asked him respecting the damsel, 
 he replied not, but always turned the discourse 
 upon other matters. And when a year from that 
 time was gone, he caused a hundred knights to 
 equip themselves and to go with him to the palace 
 
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 Stories 
 
 of Heveydd Hen. And when he came to the pal- 
 ace, there was great joy concerning him, with 
 much concourse of people and great rejoicing, and 
 vast preparations for his coming. And the whole 
 court was placed under his orders. 
 
 The hall was richly garnished, and as they went 
 to meat they sat thus: Heveydd Hen was on one 
 side of Pwyll, and Rhiannon on the other side; and 
 all the rest were arranged according to their rank. 
 And they ate and feasted, and talked with one an- 
 other for a long while, and then arose for further 
 entertainment. At the beginning of the carousal 
 after meat, there entered a tall auburn haired 
 youth, of royal bearing, clothed in a garment of 
 satin. And when he came into the hall, he saluted 
 Pwyll and his companions. 
 
 "The greeting of Heaven be unto thee," said 
 Pwyll; "come thou and sit down with us." 
 
 "Nay," said the youth, "a suitor am I, and I 
 will do mine errand." 
 
 "Do so, willingly," said Pwyll. 
 
 "Lord," said he, "my errand is unto thee, and it 
 is to crave a boon of thee that I have come." 
 
 "What boon soever thou mayest ask of me, as 
 far as I am able thou shalt have." 
 
 At this the maiden said, "Ah, wherefore, didst 
 thou give that answer?" 
 
 "Hath he not given it before the presence of 
 these nobles?" asked the youth. 
 
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 front tbc flDabinogion 
 
 "My soul," said Pwyll, "what is the boon thou 
 cravest ?" 
 
 "The lady whom best I love," the youth replied, 
 "is to be thy bride to-night; I come to ask her of 
 thee, with the feast and the banquet that are in 
 this place." 
 
 At this Pwyll was silent with regret because of 
 the answer he had given. And Rhiannon said, 
 "Never did man make worse use of his wits than 
 thou hast done." 
 
 "Lady," said he, "I knew not who he was, nor 
 dreamed he would ask such a gift as this." 
 
 "Behold," she replied, "this is the man to whom 
 they would have given me against my will. He is 
 Gwawl, the son of Clud, a man of great power and 
 wealth ; and because of the word thou hast spoken, 
 thou must bestow me upon him lest shame befall 
 thee." 
 
 "Lady," answered Pwyll, "I understand not thy 
 answer. Never can I do as thou sayest." 
 
 "Bestow me upon him," she said, "and I will 
 cause that I shall never be his." 
 
 "By what means can this be?" he inquired. 
 
 Then Rhiannon said, "In thy hand I will give 
 thee a bag which thou art to keep; and I will en- 
 gage to become his bride this night twelvemonth. 
 And at the end of the year be thou there, and bring 
 the bag with thee, and let thy hundred knights be 
 in the orchard yonder. And when he is in the 
 midst of joy and feasting, come thou in by thyself,
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 clad in ragged garments, hiding the bag in thy 
 hand, and ask nothing but a bag full of food; and I 
 will cause that if all the mead and liquor that are 
 in these seven Cantrevs were put into it, it would 
 be no fuller than before. And after a great deal 
 has been put therein he will ask thee whether thy 
 bag will ever be full. And thou shalt say that it 
 never will until a man of noble birth and of great 
 wealth shall arise and press the food in the bag 
 with both his feet, saying, "Enough has been put 
 there." And I will cause him to go and tread down 
 the food in the bag; and when he does so, turn 
 thou the bag so that he shall be up over his "head 
 in it, and then slip a knot upon the thongs of the 
 bag. Let there be also a good bugle horn about 
 thy neck, and as soon as thou hast bound him in 
 the bag, wind thy horn, and let it be a signal be- 
 tween thee and thy knights. And when they hear 
 the horn let them come in haste down upon the 
 palace." 
 
 Then Gwawl said, "Lord, it is meet that I have 
 an answer to my request." 
 
 To which Pwyll replied, "As much of that which 
 thou hast asked as it is in my power to give, thou 
 shalt have." 
 
 And Rhiannon said to Gwawl, "As for the feast 
 and the banquet that are here, I have bestowed 
 them upon the men of Dyved, and the household 
 and the warriors who are with us. These can I 
 not suffer to be given to any others. But in a year 
 
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 from tbe 
 
 from to-night a banquet shall be prepared for thee 
 in this palace, that I may become thy bride." 
 
 So Gwawl went forth to his possessions, and 
 Pwyll went back to Dyved. And they both spent 
 that year until it was the time for the feast at the 
 palace of Heveydd Hen. Then Gwawl set out to 
 the feast that was prepared for him, and he came 
 to the palace and was received there with great 
 rejoicing. Pwyll, also, came to the orchard with 
 his hundred knights, having the bag with him, as 
 Rhiannon had commanded. And Pwyll was clad 
 in coarse and ragged garments, and wore large 
 clumsy shoes upon his feet. When he knew that 
 the carousal after the meat had begun, he went 
 toward the hall; and when he came into the hall, 
 he saluted Gwawl and his company, both men and 
 women. 
 
 "Heaven prosper thee," said Gwawl, "and the 
 greeting of Heaven be unto thee." 
 
 "Lord," said Pwyll, "may Heaven reward thee; 
 I have an errand unto thee." 
 
 "Welcome be thy errand," said Gwawl, "and if 
 thou ask of me anything that is just, thou shalt 
 have it gladly." 
 
 "It is fitting," replied Pwyll; "I crave but from 
 want, and the boon that I ask is to have this small 
 bag, that thou seest, filled with meat." 
 
 "That is a request within reason," Gwawl re- 
 plied, "and gladly thou shalt have it." Then turn- 
 
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 TOonfcer Storiee 
 
 ing to his servants he said, "Bring him the food he 
 wants." 
 
 At this a great number of the attendants rose 
 and began to fill the bag; but for all they put into 
 it, it was no fuller than at first. 
 
 "My soul," said Gwawl, "will the bag never be 
 full?" 
 
 "It will not, I fear," said Pwyll, "unless one pos- 
 sessed of lands and domains and treasures shall 
 arise and tread down with both his feet the food 
 that is within the bag and shall say, "Enough has 
 been put therein." 
 
 Then said Rhiannon unto Gwawl, "Rise up 
 quickly and press down the food." 
 
 "I will willingly do so," said he. 
 
 So he rose and put his two feet into the bag. 
 Then Pwyll turned up the sides of the bag so that 
 Gwawl was over his head in it. And he shut it up 
 quickly and slipped a knot upon the thongs, and 
 blew his horn. Thereupon behold his household 
 came down upon the palace, and they seized all 
 the host that had come with Gwawl, and cast them 
 into his own prison. And then Pwyll threw off his 
 rags and his old shoes and his tattered array and 
 they all saw who he was. As the knights of Pwyll 
 came in every one of them in turn struck a blow 
 upon the bag and asked, "What is here?" 
 
 "A badger," they replied. 
 
 And in this manner they played with the bag, 
 each of them striking it with his foot or with a 
 
 210
 
 ffrom the fDabinogion 
 
 staff. And every one as he came in asked, "What 
 game are you playing at thus ?" 
 
 "The game of Badger in the Bag," they replied. 
 And thus was the game of Badger in the Bag first 
 played. 
 
 As they thus played with the bag, the man with- 
 in cried out, "If thou wouldst but hear me, let me 
 say that I merit not to be slain in a bag." 
 
 "That is true, lord," said Heveydd Hen. "It 
 were fitting that thou listen to him, for he deserves 
 not this cruel treatment." 
 
 "Verily," said Pwyll, "I will do whatever thou 
 dost counsel concerning him." 
 
 "Behold, this is my counsel," said Rhiannon, 
 "thou art now in a position in which it behooves 
 thee to satisfy suitors and minstrels; let him give 
 unto them in thy stead, and take a pledge from 
 him that he will never seek to revenge that which 
 has been done to him. And this will be punish- 
 ment enough." 
 
 "I will do this gladly," said the man in the bag. 
 
 "And gladly will I accept it," said Pwyll, "since 
 it is the counsel of Heveydd and Rhiannon." 
 
 And upon this he was let out of the bag, and he 
 gave sureties that he would keep the promise that 
 he had made. And he said to Pwyll, "Lord, I am 
 greatly hurt, and have many bruises, and have 
 need to be anointed. So with thy leave I will 
 go forth; and I will leave nobles in my stead to 
 answer for me in all that thou shalt require." 
 
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 Member Stories 
 
 "Willingly mayst thou do this," said Pwyll. So 
 Gwawl went toward his own possessions. 
 
 Then the hall was set in order for Pwyll and his 
 men, and for them also at the palace; and they 
 went to the tables and sat down to meat. And 
 they ate and feasted and spent the night in mirth 
 and pleasure. And thus Rhiannon became the 
 bride of Pwyll. 
 
 The next morning at the break of day Rhiannon 
 said, "My lord, arise now and begin to give thy 
 gifts unto the minstrels. Refuse no one to-day 
 that may claim thy bounty." 
 
 And Pwyll answered, "Thus shall it be gladly, 
 both to-day and every day while the feast shall 
 last" 
 
 So Pwyll arose, and he caused silence to be pro- 
 claimed, and desired all the suitors and the min- 
 strels to point out what gifts they desired. And 
 this being done the feast went on, and he denied 
 no one anything while it lasted. 
 
 And when the feast ended, Pwyll said unto He- 
 veydd, "My lord, with thy permission I will set out 
 for Dyved to-morrow." 
 
 "Certainly," said Heveydd, "and may Heaven 
 prosper thee. Fix also a time when Rhiannon may 
 follow thee." 
 
 "We will go hence together," said Pwyll. 
 
 "As thou wiliest, lord," said Heveydd. 
 
 So the next day they set forward toward Dyved, 
 and journeyed to the palace of .Narberth, where a 
 
 212
 
 feast was made ready for them. And there came 
 to them great numbers of the chief men and the 
 most noble ladies of the land; and of these there 
 was none to whom Rhiannon did not give some 
 rich gift, either a bracelet, or a ring, or a precious 
 stone. And they ruled the land prosperously both 
 that year and the next, and Rhiannon was much 
 loved and honored by all who knew her. 
 
 213
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE FALSE ACCUSATION AGAINST RHIANNON 
 
 NOW in the third year a son was born to 
 Pwyll and Rhiannon. And on the night 
 he was born women watched the mother 
 and the boy. As they watched they all fell asleep, 
 and when they awoke they looked where they had 
 put the boy, and behold he was not there. 
 
 "Oh," said one of the women, "the boy is lost !" 
 
 "Yes," said another, "and it will be small ven- 
 geance if we are burnt or put to death because of 
 the child." 
 
 "Is there any counsel for us in this matter?" 
 said another woman. 
 
 "There is," replied a fourth, "and I will offer 
 good counsel." 
 
 "What is that?" said they all. 
 
 Then she said, "There is here a hound that hath 
 a litter of whelps. Let us kill some of the whelps 
 and rub the blood on the face and hands of Rhian- 
 non and assert that she hath killed her son, and 
 she alone will not be able to gainsay us six." And 
 according to this counsel it was settled. 
 
 Now toward morning Rhiannon awoke, and she 
 said, "Women, where is my son?" 
 
 214
 
 ftom the flDabinogton 
 
 "Lady," said they, "ask us not concerning thy 
 son, for see by the blood on thy hands that thou 
 hast slain him. And by our faith we have nought 
 but the blows and bruises which we got struggling 
 with thee to prevent the deed." 
 
 "For pity's sake," said Rhiannon, "the Lord 
 knows all things. Charge me not falsely. If you 
 tell me this from fear, I assert before Heaven that 
 I will defend you." 
 
 "Truly," they replied, "we would not bring evil 
 on ourselves for any one in the world." 
 
 "But you will receive no evil for telling the 
 truth," said Rhiannon. But for all her words, 
 whether fair or harsh, she received but the same 
 answer from the women. 
 
 Now in the morning Pwyll, the chief of Ann- 
 wvyn, arose and all his household and heard the 
 story of the death of his son. And the loss of his 
 son could not be concealed, but the story of the 
 women went forth throughout the land, and all the 
 nobles heard of it. Then came the nobles to Pwyll 
 and besought him to put away his wife, because of 
 the great crime she had done. But Pwyll answered 
 them that they had no cause to ask him to put 
 away his wife, for he did not believe her guilty of 
 any wrong; but if she could not prove her inno- 
 cence let her do penance for it. 
 
 So Rhiannon finding she could not contend 
 against the six women was obliged to take a pen- 
 ance for the fault with which she was charged. And 
 
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 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 the penance that was imposed upon her was that 
 she should remain in that palace of Narberth until 
 the end of seven years, and that she should sit 
 every day near unto a horseblock that was without 
 the gate. And that she should relate the story to 
 all who should come there, whom she might sup- 
 pose not to know it already; and that she should 
 offer the guests and strangers, if they would per- 
 mit her, to carry them upon her back into the pal- 
 ace. And thus did she spend part of the year; but 
 it rarely happened that any would permit her to 
 carry them to the castle. 
 
 Now at that time there lived in the land, Tiern- 
 yon Twyrv Vliant, who was Lord of Gwent; and 
 he was said to be the best man in the world. And 
 he had a beautiful horse that often brought him a 
 colt, but as soon as the colt was born it immedi- 
 ately disappeared. So one night he determined to 
 watch and see what became of the colt. As soon 
 as the colt was born he rose to look upon it, when 
 he heard a great tumult, and after the tumult be- 
 hold a claw came through the window into the 
 house, and it seized the colt by the mane. 
 
 Then Teirnyon drew his sword and struck off 
 the arm at the elbow, so that a portion of the arm 
 together with the colt was in the house with him. 
 And then did he hear a tumult and wailing, both 
 at once. At this he opened the door and rushed 
 out in the direction of the noise, but he could not 
 see the cause of the tumult because of the darkness 
 
 216
 
 jfrom tbe 
 
 of the night. Then he rushed out after it and foU 
 lowed it for a long distance. After a while he re- 
 membered that he had left the door open and he 
 returned to the house; and at the door behold 
 there was an infant boy in swaddling clothes, 
 wrapped around in a mantle of satin. Taking up 
 the boy in his arms he found that he was very 
 strong for the age that he seemed. 
 
 He then shut the door and went into the cham- 
 ber where his wife was, saying, "Lady, art thou 
 sleeping?" 
 
 "No, lord," said she, "I was asleep, but as thou 
 earnest in I did awake." 
 
 "Behold, here is a boy for thee," he said, "if thou 
 wilt have him." 
 
 "My lord," said she, "what adventure is this?" 
 
 "It was this," said Tiernyon; and he told her 
 how it all befell. 
 
 Then she asked him what garments the child had 
 on; and he told her "a mantle of satin." 
 
 "He is then a boy of gentle lineage," she re- 
 plied. 
 
 Then they agreed to keep the boy as their own; 
 and they caused him to be baptized; and the name 
 which they gave unto him was Gwri Wallt Euryn, 
 because what hair was upon his head was as yel- 
 low as gold. They had the boy nursed in court un- 
 til he was a year old; and before the year was over 
 he could walk stoutly. He grew so rapidly that 
 within the year he was larger than a boy three 
 
 217
 
 "Cdonfcer Storte0 
 
 years of age, even one of unusual growth and size. 
 And at the end of the second year he was as large 
 and as strong as a child six years of age.. And be- 
 fore the end of the fourth year he would bribe the 
 grooms to allow him to take the horses to water. 
 
 One day his wife said unto Teirnyon, "My lord, 
 where is the colt that thou didst save on the night 
 that thou didst find the boy?" 
 
 "I have given it," he said, "unto the care of the 
 grooms." 
 
 "Would it not be well, lord," said she, "if thou 
 wast to cause it to be broken in, and given to the 
 boy, seeing that on the same night that thou didst 
 find the boy, the colt was foaled and thou didst 
 save him?" 
 
 "I will not oppose thee in this matter," said 
 Teirnyon, "but allow thee to give him the colt." 
 
 "May Heaven reward thee, lord," she said, "and 
 I will give him the colt." 
 
 So the horse was given to the boy; and the 
 grooms were commanded to be careful of the horse 
 so that he might be broken in by the time that the 
 boy could ride him. 
 
 Now while these things were going forward they 
 heard tidings of Rhiannon and her punishment. 
 And Teirnyon, by reason of the pity he felt on hear- 
 ing the story of Rhiannon, inquired closely con- 
 cerning it, until he heard the story from many of 
 those who came to his court. Then did Tiernyon, 
 lamenting the sad history, often ponder within 
 
 218
 
 Jtom tbc n&abinooiott 
 
 himself; and as he looked at the boy it seemed to 
 him that he had never beheld so great a likeness 
 between the father and son as between Pwyll and 
 the boy. Thereupon he became grieved for the 
 wrong that he did, in keeping with him a boy whom 
 he knew to be the son of another man. So the first 
 time that he was alone with his wife he told her 
 what he thought, that it was not right that they 
 should keep the boy with them, and suffer so ex- 
 cellent a lady as Rhiannon to be punished so 
 greatly on his account. And Teirnyon's wife 
 agreed with him and said that they should send the 
 boy to Pwyll. 
 
 So no later than the next day Teirnyon equipped 
 himself, and taking two other knights with him, 
 started to the court of Pwyll. And the boy, riding 
 on the young horse which Teirnyon had given to 
 him, went with them. Their journey lay toward 
 Narberth; and it was not long before they reached 
 that place. As they drew near to the palace they 
 saw Rhiannon sitting beside the horseblock doing 
 her penance. And when they were opposite to her 
 she said, "Chieftain, go not further thus, I will bear 
 every one of you on my back into the palace, and 
 this is my penance for being charged with slaying 
 my son." 
 
 "Oh, fair lady," said Teirnyon, "think not that 
 I will be one to be carried upon thy back." 
 
 "Neither will I," said the boy. 
 
 So they all went forward toward the palace; and 
 
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 TUlonbet Stories 
 
 there was great joy at their coming. At the palace 
 there was a feast prepared, because Pwyll had just 
 come back from the confines of Dyved; and Pwyil 
 was rejoiced to see Teirnyon. Going into the hall 
 they washed themselves and prepared to sit down 
 to the feast. When they sat down at the table, 
 this was the order in which they sat : Teirnyon be- 
 tween Pwyll and Rhiannon, and Teirnyon's two 
 companions on the other side of Pwyll, and the boy 
 between them. And after meat they began to 
 carouse and discourse as was the custom of the 
 time. Then Teirnyon told them the adventure of 
 the colt and of the boy, and how he and his wife 
 had nursed and reared the child as their son. 
 
 Then turning to Rhiannon he said, "Behold, 
 lady, here is thy son; and whosoever told that lie 
 concerning thee hath done thee a great wrong. 
 And when I heard of thy sorrow I was troubled 
 and grieved, believing the boy was thy son, and I 
 resolved to bring him to thee. And I believe that 
 there is none of this host who will not perceive that 
 the boy is the son of Pwyll." 
 
 At this they all looked upon the boy and at 
 Pwyll, and they said, "There is none here who is 
 not certain thereof." 
 
 Then Rhiannon rose and went to the boy and 
 clasped him in her arms and kissed him many 
 times, and said, "I declare to Heaven if this be 
 true, then there is indeed an end to my trouble, 
 
 220
 
 Jtom tbe n&abfnosfon 
 
 and my son's name shall be Pryderi, for the sor- 
 row I have had." 
 
 Then there was great rejoicing among them all. 
 And Pendaran Dyved said, "Lady, well hast thou 
 named thy son Pryderi, meaning anxiety; and well 
 becomes he the name of Pryderi, son of Pwyll, 
 Chief of Annwvyn." 
 
 "Look you," said Rhiannon, "will not his own 
 name become him better?" 
 
 "What name has he ?" asked Pendaran Dyved. 
 
 "Gwri Wallt Euryn is the name that we gave 
 him," said Teirnyon. 
 
 "Pryderi," said Pendaran, "shall his name be." 
 
 "It is more proper," said Pwyll, "that the boy 
 should take his name from the word his mother 
 spoke when she received the joyful tiding of him." 
 And thus it was arranged. 
 
 Then Pwyll said, "Teirnyon, may Heaven re- 
 ward thee that thou hast reared the boy up to this 
 time, and being of gentle lineage, it were fitting 
 that he should repay thee for it." 
 
 "My lord," said Teirnyon, "it was my wife who 
 nursed him, and there is no one in the world so 
 afflicted as she is at parting with him. It were well 
 that he should bear in mind what I and my wife 
 have done for him." 
 
 "I call Heaven to witness," said Pwyll, "that 
 while I live I will support thee and thy possessions, 
 as long as I am able to preserve my own. And 
 when he shall have power, he will more fitly main- 
 
 221
 
 "Cdcmfcer Storied 
 
 tain them than I. And now if this counsel shall be 
 pleasing unto thee, and to my nobles, I will give 
 him to be brought up by Pendaran Dyved, from 
 henceforth. And you shall be companions, and 
 shall both be foster-fathers unto him." 
 
 "This is good counsel," said they all. So the 
 boy was given to Pendaran Dyved, and the nobles 
 of the land were sent with him. And Teirnyon and 
 his companions set out for their own country with 
 joy and gladness. And though he was offered the 
 fairest jewels and the fastest horses and the 
 choicest dogs, he would take none of them. 
 
 And Pryderi, the son of Pwyll, was brought up 
 carefully as was fitting for a prince so that he be- 
 came the fairest youth, and the most comely, and 
 the best skilled in all good games, of any in the 
 kingdom. And thus passed years and years, until 
 the end of Pwyll's life came, and he died. 
 
 And Pryderi ruled the seven Cantrevs of Dyved 
 prosperously, and he was beloved by his people, 
 and by all around him. And he added unto his 
 possessions many other Cantrevs until he was ruler 
 of a large country. In course of time he desired 
 to take a wife; and the wife he chose was Kicva, 
 the daughter of Gwynn Gohoyw, the son of Glowy 
 Wallt Lydan, the son of Prince Casnar, one of the 
 nobles of the island. 
 
 This story is abridged from the original by omitting 
 a. first part that is of little interest, and that has no 
 connection with portion that is given. Its underlying 
 
 222
 
 from the HDalrinogfon 
 
 motive seems to be to portray an act of justice to a true 
 and faithful woman who has been wronged by an act of 
 treachery. The name Pwyll means literally Prudence. 
 
 After the death of Pwyll, Rhiannon was bestowed, by 
 her son Pryderi, in marriage upon Manawyddan, the son 
 of Llyr, as will be seen in the story that bears his name. 
 Her marvellous birds whose notes were so sweet that 
 warriors remained spell-bound for eighty years listening 
 to them have been a frequent theme with the poets. 
 
 323
 
 HSrantoen, tfye dDaugfytet of 
 Chapter I 
 
 ISrantoetv bee atnt 
 
 oC 
 
 tl). 
 
 ANY years ago Bendigied Vran, the son 
 of Llyr, was the King of the islan4 
 called the Island of the Mighty. One af- 
 ternoon he sat upon a rock looking over the sea, 
 and with him were his brother Manawyddan, the 
 son of Llyr, and his brothers by his mother's side 
 named Nissyen and Evnissyen, and many nobles 
 likewise as was fitting to see around a king. One 
 of these brothers, Nissyen, was a goodly youth of 
 a gentle and peaceful nature who loved to live in 
 peace with all men; while the other, Evnissyen, 
 loved rather to cause strife between those with 
 whom he lived. 
 
 As they thus sat upon the rock, they beheld thir- 
 teen ships coming from the south of Ireland, and 
 making towards them with a swift motion. "I see 
 ships afar," said the king, "coming swiftly toward 
 the land. Command the men of the court to equip 
 themselves and go and learn their intent." 
 
 So the men equipped themselves and went down 
 toward the shore; and when they saw the ships 
 
 224
 
 JJtom tbe flDairinogion 
 
 near, they were surprised at their size and beauty. 
 One of the ships was larger than the others, and 
 upon it was a large shield lifted up above the side 
 of the ship, and the point of the shield was upward 
 as a token of peace. 
 
 As the ships came near the shore the men on 
 them put out in boats and came toward the land. 
 As soon as they came near enough they saluted the 
 king. 
 
 "Heaven prosper you," said the king, "and be 
 ye welcome. To whom do these ships belong, and 
 who is your chief?" 
 
 "Lord," they replied, "Matholwch, King of Ire- 
 land, is here, and these ships belong to him." 
 
 "Wherefore comes he?" asked the king, "and 
 will he come to the land?" 
 
 "He is suitor unto thee, lord," said they; "and 
 he will not land unless he have his boon." 
 
 "And what may be his boon?" inquired the 
 king. 
 
 "He desires to ally himself with thee, lord," said 
 they, "and he comes to ask Branwen, the daughter 
 of Llyr, to be his wife, that, if it seem well to thee, 
 the Island of the Mighty may be leagued with Ire- 
 land, and both become more powerful." 
 
 "Verily," said the king, "let him come to land, 
 and we will take counsel thereupon." 
 
 When this answer was brought to Matholwch he 
 said, "I will go willingly." 
 
 So he came with his men to the shore, and the 
 
 225
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 king and his people received him joyfully; and 
 great was the throng in the palace that night be- 
 tween his hosts and those of the court. 
 
 The next day they took counsel together and 
 the king resolved to bestow Branwen to be the 
 wife of Matholwch. Now she was one of the three 
 chief ladies of this island, and she was said to be 
 the fairest damsel in the world. So a banquet was 
 prepared there under great tents, as no house was 
 large enough to contain Bendigeid Vran; and 
 there amid great pomp Branwen became the 
 bride of Matholwch. 
 
 The next day they arose, and all they of the 
 court; and the officers began to equip and arrange 
 the horses and the attendants; and they ranged 
 them in order as far as the sea. 
 
 And behold soon after, Evnissyen, the quarrel- 
 some one, came by chance to that place where the 
 horses of Matholwch were; and he asked whose 
 horses they might be. And they told him that 
 they were the horses of Matholwch, King of Ire- 
 land, who had been married to his sister Branwen. 
 When he heard this he was angry that they had 
 given his sister in marriage without his knowledge 
 or consent. And thereupon he rushed under the 
 horses and cut off their lips at their teeth, and their 
 ears close to their heads, and their tails close to 
 their backs; and wherever he could clutch their 
 eyelids, he cut them to the very bone; and thus he 
 disfigured the horses and rendered them useless. 
 
 226
 
 from the n&abinogion 
 
 And they came with these tidings to Matholwch, 
 saying that the horses were disfigured and so in- 
 jured that not one of them could be of any use 
 again. "Verily, lord," said one, "it is an insult unto 
 you, and so it was meant." 
 
 "It is a marvel to me," he replied, "that if they 
 desired to insult me they should have given me a 
 maiden of such high rank and so beloved by them 
 all." 
 
 "Lord," said another, "it is certain that it is an 
 insult, and there is nothing for thee to do but to 
 go to thy ships." And thereupon he set out for 
 his ships. 
 
 Soon the tidings came to Bendigeid Vran that 
 Matholwch was quitting the court without taking 
 leave; and messengers were sent to inquire of him 
 wherefore he did so. He replied, "I have been 
 greatly insulted; but one thing surprises me, that 
 you should have given me Branwen, the king's sis- 
 ter, for a bride and then have done me this insult." 
 
 "Truly, lord," said the messenger, "it was not 
 the will of the king or the court that thou shouldst 
 be insulted, and the dishonor is greater unto Ben- 
 digeid Vran than unto thee." 
 
 "Truly," said he, "I think so; nevertheless he 
 cannot recall the insult." 
 
 And when he would not return they sent another 
 embassy after him to persuade him to return. And 
 they offered him a sound horse for every one that 
 had been injured. And beside that, as an atone- 
 
 227
 
 ment for the insult, they said that he should have 
 a staff of silver as large and tall as himself, and a 
 plate of gold the breadth of his face. 
 
 And the king said, "Show him also who it was 
 that did the deed, and that it was against my will; 
 but that he who did it is my brother and therefore 
 it would be hard for me to put him to death. And 
 let him come and meet me, and we will make peace 
 in any way he may desire." 
 
 Thus they pleaded with him to return, saying 
 they would atone for the insult in every way in 
 their power. So at length he decided to accept 
 the offers of atonement and to return to the court. 
 Then the pavilions and the tents were set in order 
 after the fashion of a hall, and they sat down to 
 the feast as before. And as they talked Bendigeid 
 Vran thought that Matholwch was not as cheerful 
 as he was before and that it was because of the 
 smallness of the atonement that had been made. 
 So he said to him that he would pay him not only 
 for his horses, but give him beside a cauldron, the 
 property of which was that if any one was slain 
 and cast therein, on the morrow he would be as 
 well as ever, except that he would not regain his 
 speech. So the next morning the king gave Ma- 
 tholwch the horses and the cauldron as was prom- 
 ised 
 
 That night they held a feast again with min- 
 strelsy and dancing, and when it was more pleas- 
 ant for them to sleep than to sit longer, they went 
 
 228
 
 '"' r' ' ill "SiV"r'r ia II ' r 
 
 tier cau6cb ttjc butctyr to come to 
 ll e r e t) c r D doj) ant gnu t^ er a bloto j?
 
 Jfrom tbc HDabinoQion 
 
 to rest. Now when the feastings were all finished 
 Matholwch sailed for Ireland and Branwen with 
 him. And in Ireland there was great joy at their 
 coming. And they welcomed Branwen full cor- 
 dially; and there was not a great man or a noble 
 lady to whom she did not give either a clasp, or a 
 ring, or a royal jewel. And thus she passed the 
 time pleasantly for a year or more enjoying the 
 honor and the friendship of her people. And in 
 due time a son was born, and the name they gave 
 him was Gwern, the son of Matholwch. 
 
 But behold in the second year, word was 
 brought to the court of Matholwch of the treat- 
 ment he had received in Britain; and a tumult 
 arose throughout Ireland on account of the insult 
 which he had received in Cambria and the pay- 
 ment made him for his horses. And his foster 
 brothers and such as were nearest unto him blamed 
 him openly that he would submit to such treat- 
 ment. And he had no peace by reason of the tu- 
 mult they made that he should avenge this great 
 disgrace. And the vengeance which they took was 
 to drive away Branwen from the palace chambers 
 and make her cook for the court. And moreover 
 they caused the butcher after he had cut up the 
 meat to come to her every day and give her a 
 blow on the ear. And such they made her punish- 
 ment for the insult that Matholwch had received 
 in the Isle of Britain. 
 
 Moreover they said to Matholwch, "Verily, lord, 
 
 229
 
 TOlotfter Stories 
 
 forbid now the ships and the ferry boats that they 
 go not unto Wales; and such as come over from 
 Wales hither do thou imprison them that they go 
 not back again." And so he did; and thus it was 
 for no less than three years. 
 
 Meanwhile Branwen thought how she might ac- 
 quaint her people of the insults heaped upon her. 
 So she reared a starling in the cover of the knead- 
 ing trough, and she taught it to speak, and also 
 to know what kind of man her brother was. And 
 she wrote a letter telling of her woes, and the de- 
 spite with which she was treated; and she bound 
 the letter to the root of the bird's wing, and sent 
 him towards Britain. And the bird came to that 
 island, and one day it found Bendigeid, and 
 alighted upon his shoulder and ruffled its feathers, 
 so that the letter was seen. 
 
 Then Bendigeid Vran took the letter; and when 
 he had read it he was grieved exceedingly at the 
 tidings of Branwen's woes. And he immediately 
 began sending messengers throughout the land to 
 summon the people of the island together. And 
 when they had come he told them of the grief and 
 despite that his sister endured. Then they took 
 counsel together and resolved to go to Ireland, 
 and to leave seven men as princes at home to take 
 charge of the island. And Caradawc, the son of 
 Bran, was the chief among the princes. 
 
 Then they took ships and manned them with 
 their knights and nobles and set sail for Ireland. 
 
 230
 
 Jtom tbc flDabfnogton 
 
 As they came near the island, the swineherds of 
 Matholwch were upon the shore; and having never 
 seen ships before they were struck with awe at the 
 sight. And they came to Matholwch saying, 
 "Heaven protect thee, for we have seen a marvel- 
 ous thing, a wood upon the sea in a place where 
 we never before have seen a single tree." 
 
 This is indeed a marvel," said Matholwch; "saw 
 you aught else?" 
 
 "We saw, lord," they said, "a vast mountain be- 
 side the wood, which moved, and there was a lofty 
 ridge on the top of the mountain, and a lake on 
 each side of the ridge. And the wood and the 
 mountain, and all these things moved." 
 
 "Verily," said he, "there is none who can know 
 what all this means, unless it be Branwen." 
 
 So they sent for Branwen; and when she came 
 they said to her, "Lady, what thinkest thou that 
 this is?" 
 
 And she said, "These are the men of the Island 
 of the Mighty, who have come hither on hearing 
 of my ill treatment and my sorrow." 
 
 "What is the forest that is seen upon the sea?" 
 they asked. 
 
 "The yards and the masts of the ships," she an- 
 swered. 
 
 "Alas," said they, "what is the mountain that is 
 seen by the side of the ships?" 
 
 "That is my brother, Bendigeid Vran," she re- 
 plied, "coming to shoal water; and he is wading to
 
 TOonfcer Storiee 
 
 the land, for he is so large that there is no ship that 
 can contain him." 
 
 "What is the lofty ridge with the lake on each 
 side thereof?" they asked. 
 
 "On looking towards this island he is wroth; 
 and his two eyes, one on each side of his nose, are 
 the two lakes on each side of the ridge." 
 
 Then the warriors and chief men of Ireland were 
 brought together in great haste; and they took 
 counsel together as to what they should do. And 
 the nobles said unto Matholwch that they should 
 retreat over the river Linon, and should break 
 down the bridge that is across the river, and thus 
 keep the river between them and their foe. So 
 they retreated across the river and broke down 
 the bridge. Now there was loadstone at the bot- 
 tom of this river so that neither ship nor vessel 
 could pass over it. 
 
 Soon Bendigeid Vran came to land and the fleet 
 with him, by the bank of the river. And his chief- 
 tains said, "Lord, thou knowest the nature of this 
 river, that nothing can go across it, and there is 
 no bridge over it. Now what is thy counsel con- 
 cerning a bridge?" 
 
 "There is none," said he, "except that he who 
 will be chief, let him be a bridge. And I will be 
 so myself," he said. 
 
 So he lay down across the river, and hurdles 
 were placed upon him, and the host passed over 
 thereby. As he rose up, behold the messengers of 
 
 232
 
 fftom tbe HDaWnoafon 
 
 Matholwch came to him and saluted him and gave 
 him greeting in the name of Matholwch, and 
 showed him that of his good will he had merited 
 nothing of him but good. "For Matholwch," 
 they said, "has given the kingdom of Ireland to 
 Gwern, the son of Matholwch, thy nephew and thy 
 sister's son. And this he hath done as a compensa- 
 tion for the wrong and despite that has been done 
 to Branwen." 
 
 Then said Bendigeid, "Shall not I myself have 
 the kingdom ? If so, then peradventure I may take 
 counsel concerning your message. From this time 
 until then no other answer will you get from me." 
 
 "Verily," they answered, "the best message that 
 we receive for thee we will convey it unto thee, 
 and do thou await our message unto Matholwch." 
 
 "I will wait," answered he, "and do you return 
 quickly." 
 
 So the messengers set forth and came to Ma- 
 tholwch, and said, "Lord, prepare a better mes- 
 sage for Bendigeid Vran. He would not listen at 
 all to the message that we bore him." 
 
 "My friends," said Matholwch, "what may be 
 your counsel?" 
 
 "Lord," said they, "our counsel is that as on ac- 
 count of his great size he hath never been in a 
 house, that thou make a house that will contain 
 him and the men with him; he and his host on one 
 side, and thyself and thy host on the other side; 
 
 233
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 and give over thy kingdom to his will and pay 
 him homage." 
 
 So the messengers went back to Bedigeid Vran, 
 bearing him this message. And he took counsel 
 and it was resolved to accept this offer. And this 
 was all done by the advice of Branwen, lest the 
 country should be destroyed. And thus peace was 
 made; and the house was built, both vast and 
 strong and large enough to contain Bendigeid. 
 
 234
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE SAD FATE OF BRANWEN AND HER SON 
 
 NOW the Irish planned a crafty device, and 
 the craft was that they should put brackets 
 on each side of the hundred pillars that 
 were in the house, and should place a leathern bag 
 on each bracket, and an armed man in every one 
 of the leathern bags. Thus did they plan to de- 
 stroy the men of the Island of the Mighty. 
 
 Then Evnissyen came in before the host of the 
 Island of the Mighty, and scanned the house with 
 fierce and savage looks, and descried the leathern 
 bags which were around the pillars. 
 
 "What is in this bag?" asked he of one of the 
 Irish. 
 
 "Meal, good soul," he replied. 
 
 And Evnissyen felt about it until he came to the 
 man's head, and he squeezed the head until he felt 
 his fingers meet together through the bone. 
 
 And he left that one and went to another, and 
 asked what was therein. 
 
 "Meal," said the Irishman. And Evnissyen felt 
 about as before until he found the head and 
 crushed it. So he did the like unto every one of 
 them, until he had left alive only one of all the two 
 
 2 35
 
 OTonfccr Stories 
 
 hundred men. And when he came to the last one 
 he asked what was there. And the Irishman an- 
 swered as before, saying, "Meal, good soul." 
 
 And he felt about as before until he felt the head, 
 and he found that the head of this one was armed; 
 nevertheless he squeezed it until he had killed him. 
 And then he sang a song: 
 
 "There is in this bag a different sort of meal, 
 The ready combatant, when the assault is made 
 By his fellow wariors, prepared for battle." 
 
 Thereupon the hosts came unto the house; the 
 men of the Island of Ireland entering the house on 
 the one side and the men of Bendigeid of the 
 Island of the Mighty on the other side. And as 
 soon as they had sat down there was concord be- 
 tween them, and the sovereignty was conferred 
 upon the boy, the son of Branwen. When the 
 peace was thus concluded Bendigeid called the 
 boy unto him, and from Bendigeid the boy went 
 unto Manawyddan, and he was beloved by all who 
 beheld him. 
 
 Then Nissyen called the boy unto him, and the 
 boy went unto him lovingly, and Nissyen caressed 
 him with much affection. And Evnissyen said, 
 "Wherefore comes not my nephew, the son of my 
 sister, unto me ? Though he were not king of Ire- 
 land yet willingly would I fondle the boy." 
 
 "Cheerfully let him go unto thee," said Bendi- 
 geid Vran, and the boy went unto him cheerfully. 
 
 236
 
 from tbe flDabtnofiton 
 
 Then Evnissyen arose and took up the boy by 
 the feet, and before any one in the house could 
 seize hold of him, he thrust the boy headlong into 
 the blazing fire. And when Branwen saw her son 
 burning in the fire, she strove to leap into the fire 
 also, from the place where she sat between her 
 two brothers. But Bendigeid Vran grasped her 
 with one hand and his shield with the other. Then 
 they all arose and hurried about the house, and 
 never was there made so great a tumult by any 
 host in one house as was made by them, as each 
 man armed himself. And while they all sought 
 their arms, Bendigeid Vran supported Branwen 
 between his shield and his shoulder, while the con- 
 flict waged with great fury. 
 
 Then the Irish kindled a fire under the cauldron 
 of renovation, and they cast the dead bodies into 
 the cauldron until it was full; and the next day they 
 came forth fighting men as good as before, except 
 that they were not able to speak. When Evnissyen 
 saw the dead bodies of the Island of the Mighty 
 nowhere resuscitated, he said in his heart, "Alas! 
 woe is me that I should have been the cause of 
 bringing the men of the Island of the Mighty unto 
 so great a strait. Evil betide me if I find not a de- 
 liverance therefrom." 
 
 And he cast himself among the dead bodies of 
 the Irish; and two unshod Irishmen came to him, 
 and taking him to be one of the Irish, they flung 
 him into the cauldron. And he stretched himself 
 
 237
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 out in the cauldron so that he burst it into four 
 pieces, and burst his own heart also. 
 
 And the men of the Island of the Mighty were 
 defeated and all slain except seven men who es- 
 caped. Now the men who escaped were Pryderi, 
 Manawyddan, Taliesin, and four others. And in 
 the battle Bendigeid Vran was wounded in the foot 
 with a poisoned arrow. And knowing that he 
 could not live Bendigeid Vran commanded that 
 they should cut off his head. "And take you my 
 head," he said, "and bear it unto the White Mount 
 in London, and bury it there with the face towards 
 France. And a long time you will be upon the 
 road. In Harleck you will be feasting seven years; 
 the birds of Rhiannon singing unto you the while. 
 And all that time the head will be to you as pleas- 
 ant company as it was ever upon my body. And 
 at Gwales in Penvro you will be four score years, 
 and you may remain there until you open the door 
 that looks toward Aber Henvelen and toward 
 Cornwall. And after you have opened that door, 
 go straight forward to London and there bury my 
 head." 
 
 So they cut off his head and these seven went 
 forward therewith. And Branwen was the eighth 
 with them, and they came to land at Aber Alaw, 
 and there sat down to rest. And Branwen looked 
 towards Ireland and towards the Island of the 
 Mighty, to see if she could descry them. 
 
 "Alas," said she, "woe is me that I was ever 
 
 238
 
 ftom tbc HDabinoaion 
 
 born; two islands have been destroyed because of 
 me." 
 
 Then she uttered a loud groan, and there broke 
 her heart. And they made her a four-sided grave, 
 and buried her upon the banks of the Alaw. 
 
 Then the seven men journeyed forward towards 
 Harlech, bearing the head with them. And as they 
 journeyed behold there met them a multitude of 
 men and women. 
 
 "Have you any tidings ?" asked Manawyddan. 
 
 "We have none," they answered, "save that Cas- 
 wallawn, the son of Beli, has conquered the Island 
 of the Mighty, and is crowned king in London." 
 
 "What has become," said they, "of Caradawc, 
 the son of Bran, and the seven men who were left 
 with him in this island?" 
 
 "Caswallawn came upon them, and slew six of 
 the men, and Caradawc's heart broke for grief 
 thereof; for he could see the sword that slew the 
 men, but knew not who it was that wielded it. For 
 Caswallawn had flung upon him the Veil of Illu- 
 sion, so that no one could see him slay the men, 
 but the sword only could they see. And it liked 
 him not to slay Caradawc, because he was his 
 nephew, the son of his cousin. And now he was 
 the third whose heart had broke through grief. 
 And Pendaran Dyved, who had remained as a 
 young page with these men, escaped into the 
 wood," they said. 
 
 Then the seven men journeyed on to Harlech,
 
 bearing the head with them. And when they 
 reached that place they stopped there to rest; and 
 they sat down to eat and to drink. And there came 
 three birds and began singing unto them a cer- 
 tain song, and all the songs they had ever heard 
 were unpleasant compared thereto; and the birds 
 seemed to them to be at a great distance from 
 them over the sea, yet they appeared as distinct as 
 if they were close by. And at this place they con- 
 tinued seven years. 
 
 At the close of the seventh year they went forth 
 to Gwales in Penvro. And there they found a fair 
 and regal spot overlooking the ocean; and a spaci- 
 ous hall was therein. And they went into the hall, 
 and two of the doors were open, but the third door 
 was closed, that which looked toward Cornwall. 
 And there they remained four score years uncon- 
 scious of ever having spent a time more joyous and 
 mirthful. And they were not more weary than 
 when first they came, neither did they know the 
 time they had been there. And it was not more 
 irksome to them having the head with them, than 
 if Bendigeid Vran had been with them himself. 
 
 One day said Heilyn, the son of Gwynn, "Evil 
 betide me, if I do not open the door to know if 
 that is true which hath been said concerning it." 
 
 So he opened the door and looked toward Corn- 
 wall and Aber Henvelen. And when they had 
 looked, they were as conscious of all the evils they 
 had ever sustained, and of all the friends and com- 
 
 240
 
 jfrom tbe nDabinoafott 
 
 panions that they had lost, and of all the misery 
 that had befallen them, as if it had all happened on 
 that very spot; and especially of the fate of their 
 lord. And they could not rest any longer, but 
 journeyed forth with the head towards London. 
 And there they buried the head in the White 
 Mount, as Bendigeid Vran had commanded them. 
 And so long as it was thus concealed no invasion 
 from across the sea came to the island. 
 
 Thus endeth the story of the visit to the Island 
 of the Mighty and the entertainment of Bendigeid 
 Vran when the hosts went over to Ireland to 
 avenge the wrong to Branwen, and concerning the 
 seven years banquet in Harlech, and the singing of 
 the birds of Rhiannon, and the sojourning of the 
 head of Bendigeid Vran for the space of four score 
 years. 
 
 "The beautiful Branwen (or Bronwen, "the white- 
 bosomed," as she is more frequently called) is one of the 
 most popular heroines of Welsh romance. No less cele- 
 brated for her woes than for her charms, we find that 
 her eventful story was a favorite theme with the bards 
 and poets of her nation. In 1813, a grave containing a 
 funeral urn was discovered on the banks of the river 
 
 Glow ? in which there is every reason to suppose, 
 
 the ashes of Bronwen (White Bosom), the daughter of 
 Llyr and aunt to the great Caractacus, were deposited." 
 Lady Charlotte Guest. 
 
 The Island of the Mighty is one of the many names 
 bestowed upon Britain by the Welsh. Caradaws, better 
 known by his Latinised name of Caractacus, was for a 
 numbers of years a captive at Rome. He is extolled In 
 
 241
 
 OTonfcer Stories 
 
 Welsh poetry as one of those brave princes who, by reason 
 of their valor, could never be overcome save by treachery; 
 and the treason by which he was cast into the hands of 
 his enemies is often alluded to in Welsh poetry and his- 
 tory. 
 
 242
 
 Gfc&totj) of S$anatopfoan anb tljc QjKcc 
 Chapter I 
 
 tin an&)rp&m totrt liost in tf)C ^Afitcdai tit 
 
 OW when Manawyddan had buried the 
 head of Bendigeid Vran, as related in the 
 previous story, and found his cousin had 
 seized upon his possessions, much grief and heavi- 
 ness came upon him As he gazed upon the town 
 of London and upon his companions, he heaved a 
 great sigh and said, "Alas, woe is me, for there is 
 none save myself without a home and a resting 
 place this night." 
 
 "Lord," said Pryderi, "be not so sorrowful. Thy 
 cousin is King of the Island of the Mighty, and 
 though he should do thee wrong, remember thou 
 hast never been a claimant of land or possessions, 
 and that thou art the third disinherited prince." 
 
 "Yea," he answered, "but although this man is 
 my cousin, it grieveth me to see any one in the 
 place of my brother, Bendigeid Vran; neither can 
 I be happy in the same dwelling with him." 
 
 "Wilt thou follow the counsel of another?" said 
 Pryderi. 
 
 243
 
 Wonder 
 
 "I stand in need of counsel," he answered, "and 
 what may that counsel be ?" 
 
 Then Pryderi said, "Seven Cantrevs remain unto 
 me wherein Rhiannon, my mother, dwells. I will 
 bestow her upon thee as thy wife and the seven 
 Cantrevs with her. There are no possessions 
 fairer than these; and when Rhiannon was in her 
 prime no woman was fairer than she; and even now 
 her aspect is not uncomely." 
 
 At first Manawyddan declined the offer with 
 many thanks; but as he thought upon it he said, 
 "I will go with thee to see Rhiannon and look at 
 thy possessions." 
 
 So they set forth, and though long the journey, 
 they came at length to Dyved, where Rhiannon 
 dwelt. And a feast was prepared for them at Nar- 
 berth by Rhiannon and Kicva, the wife of Pryderi. 
 As Manawyddan. sat at the feast and talked with 
 Rhiannon his heart became warmed toward her, 
 and he thought he had never beheld any lady more 
 full of grace and beauty than she. 
 
 "Pryderi," said he, "I will that it be as thou 
 didst say." 
 
 "What saying was that," asked Rhiannon. 
 
 "Lady," said Pryderi, "I did offer thee as a wife 
 to Manawyddan, the son of Llyr." 
 
 "By that promise I will gladly abide,'* said 
 Rhiannon. 
 
 "Right glad am I also," said Manawyddan; 
 
 244
 
 Jfrom tbe flDalrinoaion 
 
 "may Heaven reward him who hath shown me so 
 great friendship." 
 
 And so before the feast was over she became 
 the bride of Manawyddan. 
 
 Now as soon as the wedding feast was over they 
 all four began to make the circuit of Dyved, and to 
 hunt and take their pleasure. And as they went 
 throughout the country, they thought they had 
 never seen lands more pleasant to live in, nor bet- 
 ter hunting grounds, nor greater plenty of honey 
 and fish. And such was the friendship of these 
 four that they could not be parted from one an- 
 other by night or by day. 
 
 During the journey Pryderi went to Caswallawn 
 at Oxford to tender his homage unto him; and 
 honorable was his reception there and highly was 
 he praised for offering his homage. And after his 
 return Pryderi and Manawyddan feasted and took 
 their ease and pleasure for many days. 
 
 Now at a feast at Narberth a marvelous thing oc- 
 curred. As they sat one day at table, behold there 
 came a peal of thunder and a violent wind; and 
 there came upon them a fall of mist so thick that 
 not one of them could see the other. And after 
 the mist passed away it became light all around 
 again; but when they looked toward the place 
 where they were wont to see cattle, and herds, and 
 dwellings, they could see nothing, neither house 
 nor beast, nor smoke, nor fire, nor man, nor dwell- 
 ing. The houses of the court were all empty, and 
 
 245
 
 Stories 
 
 neither man nor beast was within them. And thus 
 there were only four of them, and they knew not 
 what had befallen their companions. 
 
 "In the name of Heaven," cried Manawyddan, 
 "where are the people of the court and all my hosts 
 beside them? Let us go and see." 
 
 So they came into the hall and there were no 
 persons there; and they went on to the castle and 
 the sleeping place, and they saw no one there; and 
 in the mead cellar and in the kitchen there was 
 naught but desolation. So after their surprise had 
 passed they settled down to their former life, and 
 the four feasted and hunted for awhile and took 
 their pleasure. 
 
 After that they began to go throughout the land, 
 visiting the houses and dwellings and all the pos- 
 sessions that they had, and they found nothing 
 in the fields and forests but wild beasts. And when 
 they had consumed all their provisions, they fed 
 upon the prey they killed in hunting and the honey 
 of the wild bees. And thus they passed the first 
 year pleasantly, and also the second; but at last 
 they began to be weary and lonely. 
 
 "Verily," said Manawyddan, "we must not abide 
 thus. Let us go unto Lloegyr, and seek some craft 
 whereby we may gain our support." So they went 
 into Lloegyr, and came as far as Hereford. And 
 they betook themselves to making saddles; and so 
 skillful was Manawyddan that no saddles but his 
 were bought of any saddler throughout all Here- 
 
 246
 
 from the ODattnogton 
 
 ford. At length the saddlers saw that they were 
 losing much gain, since no man bought of them ex- 
 cept those who could not get what they needed of 
 Manawyddan. Then they assembled together and 
 agreed to slay him and his companions. 
 
 Now when they heard of this, they took counsel 
 whether they should leave the city. "By Heaven," 
 said Pryderi, "it is not my counsel that we should 
 quit the town, but that we should slay these boors." 
 
 "Not so," said Manawyddan, "for if we fight 
 them we shall have evil fame, and shall be put in 
 prison. It were better for us to go to another 
 town to maintain ourselves." So the four went to 
 another city. 
 
 "What craft shall we take here?" said Pryderi. 
 
 "We will make shields," said Manawyddan. 
 
 "Do we know anything about the craft?" asked 
 Pryderi. 
 
 "We will try," answered Manawyddan. 
 
 So they began to make shields, and they fash- 
 ioned them after the shape of the good shields 
 they had seen; and so skilful were they that not a 
 shield was asked for in the whole town that was 
 not made by them. But at last they were marked 
 by the craftsmen, who came together in haste, and 
 their fellow townsmen with them ; and they agreed 
 that they should slay Manawyddan and his com- 
 panions. But they received warning, and heard 
 how the men had resolved on their destruction. 
 
 247
 
 TOonfcer Storied 
 
 Then Pryderi said, "Let us fall upon those boors 
 and slay them." 
 
 But Manawyddan answered, "Not so, for Cas- 
 wallawn and his men will hear of it and we shall be 
 undone. Let us rather go to another town." So 
 to another town they went. 
 
 "What craft shall we take here?" said Mana- 
 wyddan. 
 
 "Whatsoever thou wilt that we know," said 
 Pryderi. 
 
 "Well, let us take to making shoes, for there is 
 not courage enough among the cordwainers either 
 to fight with us or to molest us." 
 
 "I know nothing thereof," said Pryderi. 
 
 "But I know," said Manawyddan; "and I will 
 teach you to stitch. We will not attempt to dress 
 the leather, but we will buy it ready dressed, and 
 will make the shoes from it." 
 
 So Manawyddan began by buying the best 
 cordwal that could be had in the town, and none 
 other would he buy except the leather for the 
 soles; and he associated himself with the best gold- 
 smith in the town, and caused him to make clasps 
 for the shoes, and to gild the clasps; and he marked 
 how it was done until he learned the method. And 
 therefore was he called one of three makers of 
 Gold Shoes. Now his shoes were so beautiful that 
 when they could be had from him, no shoes or 
 hose were bought of any of the cordwainers of the 
 town. And when the cordwainers saw that their 
 
 248
 
 fftom tbe nDaWnooion 
 
 gains were falling off, they came together and took 
 counsel and agreed that they would slay them. 
 
 "Pryderi," said Manawyddan, "these men are 
 minded to slay us." 
 
 "Wherefore should we bear this from the boor- 
 ish thieves?" said Pryderi. "Rather let us slay 
 them all." 
 
 "Not so," said Manawyddan, "we will not slay 
 them, neither will we remain in Lloegyr any 
 longer. Let us set forth to Dyved and see what 
 we shall find there." 
 
 So they journeyed along until they came again 
 to Dyved, and they went forward to Narberth. 
 And there they thought it best to support them- 
 selves by hunting. So they gathered their dogs 
 around them, and went daily into the forest to 
 hunt, and lived on honey and the flesh of wild 
 beasts. And they tarried there one year. 
 
 One morning Pryderi and Manawyddan rose up 
 to hunt; and they ranged their dogs and went forth 
 from the palace. And some of the dogs ran be- 
 fore them and came to a small bush which was near 
 at hand; but as soon as they came to the bush 
 they hastily drew back and returned to the men, 
 their hair bristling up with fear. "Let us go near 
 the bush and see what is in it," said Pryderi. 
 
 As they came near, behold, a wild boar of a pure 
 white color rose up from the bush. Then the dogs 
 being set on by the men, rushed towards him; but 
 he left the bush and fell back a little way from the 
 
 249
 
 TOonfcer 
 
 men, and made a stand against the dogs without 
 retreating from them, until the men had come 
 near. And when the men came up, he fell back a 
 second time and betook himself to flight. 
 
 Then they pursued the boar until they beheld 
 a vast and lofty castle all newly built, in a place 
 where they had never before seen either stone or 
 building. And the boar ran swiftly into the castle 
 and the dogs after him. Now when the boar and 
 the dogs had gone into the castle, they began to 
 wonder at rinding a castle in a place where they 
 had never before seen any building whatsoever. 
 And going to the top of a mound, they looked and 
 listened for the dogs. But so long as they were 
 there they heard not one of the dogs, nor could 
 they see aught concerning them. 
 
 Then Pryderi said, "Lord, I will go into the cas- 
 tle to get tidings of the dogs." 
 
 "Truly," replied Manawyddan, "thou wouldst 
 be unwise to go into this castle, which thou hast 
 never seen till now. Whosoever has cast a spell 
 over this land has caused this castle to be here." 
 
 "Of a truth," said Pryderi, "I cannot thus give 
 up my dogs." And for all the counsel that Mana- 
 wyddan gave him, into the castle he went. 
 
 When he came within the castle, he saw there 
 neither man nor beast nor boar nor dogs nor any 
 living thing. But in the center of the castle floor 
 he beheld a fountain, with marble work around it; 
 and on the margin of the fountain a golden bowl 
 
 250
 
 Utom tbe flDabinoofon 
 
 upon a marble slab, and chains hanging from the 
 bowl to which he saw no end. And he was greatly 
 pleased with the beauty of the gold, and with the 
 rich workmanship of the bowl; and he went up to 
 the bowl and laid hold of it. And when he had 
 taken hold of it his hands stuck to the bowl, and 
 his feet to the slab on which the bowl was placed, 
 and all his courage forsook him so that he could 
 not utter a word. And thus he stood. 
 
 Now Manawyddan waited for him until near the 
 close of the day. And late in the evening, being 
 certain that he would have no tidings of Pryderi 
 or of the dogs, he went back to the palace. And 
 as he entered the palace Rhiannon looked at him 
 and said, "Where are thy companion and thy 
 dogs?" 
 
 "Behold," he answered, "the adventure that 
 hath befallen me !" And he related it all to her. 
 
 "An evil companion hast thou been," she said, 
 "and a good companion hast thou lost." 
 
 And with these words she went out, and pro- 
 ceeded toward the castle. The gate of the castle 
 she found open; and nothing daunted she went in. 
 And as she went in she perceived Pryderi laying 
 hold of the bowl, and she went toward him. 
 
 "Oh, my lord," she said, "what dost thou here?" 
 And she took hold of the bowl with him; and as 
 she did so her hands became fast to the bowl, and 
 her feet to the slab, and she was not able to utter 
 a word. And there she and Pryderi remained un- 
 
 251
 
 TOon&er 
 
 til it became night, when lo, there came peals of 
 thunder upon them, and a fall of mist, and there- 
 upon the castle vanished and they with it. 
 
 252
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 HOW MANAWYDDAN RESCUED PRYDERI AND 
 RHIANNON 
 
 NOW when Kicva, the wife of Pryderi, saw 
 no one in the palace but herself and Man- 
 awyddan, she feared that harm might 
 befall her, and she sorrowed so that she cared not 
 whether she lived or died. But Manawyddan com- 
 forted her, saying to her that he would be a true 
 friend to her as long as he lived. 
 
 "Heaven reward thee," she said, "and of this I 
 felt assured." And then the lady took courage 
 and was comforted. 
 
 Then Manawyddan said, "It is not fitting, lady, 
 for us to stay here, for we have lost our dogs and 
 cannot get food. Let us go unto Llogyr, for it is 
 easiest for us to find support there." 
 
 "Gladly, lord," she said, "we will do so." 
 
 And so they set forth together to Llogyr. As 
 they journeyed on their way, he said, "What craft 
 shall we follow there?" 
 
 "Take up one that is seemly," she replied. 
 
 "None other will I take," he answered, "than 
 that of making shoes, as I did formerly." 
 
 "Lord," said she, "such a craft becomes not a 
 man so nobly born as thou." 
 
 253
 
 TOonfcer Storiee 
 
 "By that, however, will I abide," said he. 
 
 So he began his craft, and he made all his work 
 of the finest leather he could get in town, and as 
 he had done at the other place, he caused gilded 
 clasps to be made for the shoes. And soon nearly 
 all the cordwainers in the town were idle, except 
 himself, and without work. For as long as they 
 could be had from him, neither shoes nor hose 
 were bought elsewhere. And thus they tarried 
 there a year, until the cordwainers became envious 
 of him and resolved to slay him. And when he 
 heard of this he made ready to go back to Dyved. 
 
 Now when he set out to return to Dyved, he 
 took with him a sack of wheat. And they came to 
 Narberth, and there they dwelt. And he was glad 
 in his heart when he saw Narberth again, and the 
 lands where he had been wont to hunt with Pryderi 
 and with Rhiannon. And he found a living for 
 himself and Kicva by fishing and by hunting the 
 deer in the forest. And then he began to prepare 
 some ground and to plant it with the wheat he had 
 brought with him; and in a while it grew so that no 
 man ever saw fairer wheat than it. 
 
 And thus passed the season of the year until the 
 harvest came. On a certain day he went and 
 looked at one of his fields, and behold it was ripe 
 and ready for reaping. "I will reap this to-mor- 
 row," said he. And that night he went back to 
 Narberth. 
 
 On the morrow at the gray dawn he went to 
 
 254
 
 fftom the flDabfnogton 
 
 reap the field, and when he came there he found 
 nothing but the bare straw. Every one of the 
 ears of wheat was cut from off the stalk, and all the 
 ears carried entirely away, and nothing but the 
 straw was left. And at this he marvelled greatly. 
 
 Then he went to look at another field, and be- 
 hold that was also ripe and ready for reaping. 
 "Verily," said he, "this will I reap to-morrow." 
 And on the morrow he came with the intent to 
 reap it, but when he came he found nothing but 
 the bare straw. 
 
 "Oh, gracious Heaven," he exclaimed, "I know 
 that whatsoever has begun my ruin is completing 
 it." 
 
 Then he went to look at the third field, and when 
 he came there, finer wheat he had never seen, and 
 this was also ripe and ready to be reaped. "Evil 
 betide me if I watch not here to-night," he said. 
 "Whosoever carried off the other corn will come in 
 like manner to take this; and I will know who it 
 is." And he told Kicva all that had befallen. 
 
 "Verily," said she, "what thinkest thou to do?" 
 
 "I will watch the field to-night," said he. So he 
 took his arms and began to watch the field. 
 
 And at midnight, lo, there arose a loud tumult. 
 And he looked and beheld a mighty host of mice, 
 so great that it could not be numbered or meas- 
 ured. And the mice made their way into the field, 
 and each one climbed up a stalk and bending it 
 down with its weight, cut off one of the ears of 
 
 255
 
 UUonfcer Stories 
 
 wheat and carried it away, leaving there the bare 
 stalk. And so great was the number of mice that 
 he saw not a single straw that had not a mouse on 
 it. And they all took their way from the field, car- 
 rying the ears with them. 
 
 Then in wrath and anger did he rush upon the 
 mice, but he could no more come up with them 
 than if they had been gnats or birds, except one 
 only which could not run as fast as the others, 
 though he could hardly overtake it. And after this 
 one he went, and he caught it and put it in his 
 glove, and tied up the opening of the glove with a 
 string, and kept it with him, and returned to the 
 palace. Then he came to the hall where Kicva 
 was, and he lighted a fire, and hung the glove by 
 the string upon a peg. 
 
 "What hast thou there, lord?" said Kicva. 
 
 "A thief," said he, "that I found robbing me." 
 
 "What kind of a thief may it be, lord, that thou 
 canst put it in a glove ?" said she. 
 
 "Behold, I will tell thee," he answered. 
 
 Then he showed her how his fields had been 
 wasted and destroyed, and how the mice came to 
 the last of his fields in his sight. "And one of them 
 was less nimble than the rest, and is now in my 
 glove; and to-morrow I will hang it; and before 
 Heaven, if I had them, I would hang them all." 
 
 "My lord," she answered, "this is marvelous; 
 but yet it would be unseemly for a man of dignity 
 like thee to be hanging such a reptile as this. And 
 
 256
 
 Jfrom tbe flDabinoaton 
 
 if thou dost right, thou wilt not meddle with the 
 creature but wilt let it go." 
 
 "Woe betide me," he said, "if I would not hang 
 them all if I could catch them, and such as I have 
 I will hang." 
 
 "Verily, lord," said she, "there is no reason that 
 I should succor this reptile, except to prevent dis- 
 credit unto thee. Do, therefore, lord, as thou 
 wilt." 
 
 Then Manawyddan went up on a small hill at 
 Narberth, taking the mouse with him. And he sat 
 up two forks on the highest part of the hill. And 
 while he was doing this he saw a scholar coming 
 toward him dressed in old and tattered garments. 
 And it was now seven years since he had seen in 
 that place either man or beast, except those four 
 persons who had remained together until two of 
 them were lost. 
 
 "My lord," said the scholar, "good day to thee." 
 
 "My greeting also unto thee," Manawyddan 
 said; "whence dost thou come?" 
 
 "Truly, lord," said he, "I came from Llogyr, and 
 go through this land unto my own. But what 
 work art thou upon, lord?" 
 
 "I am hanging a thief that I caught robbing me," 
 he replied. 
 
 "What manner of thief is that?" asked the 
 scholar. "I see a creature in thy hand like unto a 
 mouse, and ill does it become a man of rank such 
 
 257
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 as thou art to touch a reptile such as this. Let it 
 go forth free." 
 
 "I will not let it go free, by Heaven," said he, 
 "for I caught it robbing me, and the doom of a 
 thief I will inflict upon it, and I will hang it." 
 
 "Lord," said the scholar, "rather than see a man 
 of thy rank at such a work, I will give thee a pound 
 which I have received as alms, to let the reptile go 
 forth free." 
 
 "I will not let it go free," said he, "by Heaven; 
 neither will I sell it." So the scholar went on his 
 way. 
 
 As he was placing the crossbeam upon the two 
 forks, behold a priest came towards him upon a 
 horse covered with trappings. "Good day to thee, 
 lord," said the priest. 
 
 "Heaven prosper thee," said Manawyddan; "and 
 I crave thy blessing." 
 
 "The blessing of Heaven be upon thee," said the 
 priest; "and what, lord, art thou doing?" 
 
 "I am hanging a thief that I caught robbing 
 me," he said. 
 
 "What manner of thief is it, lord ?" he inquired. 
 
 "A creature," he answered, "in the form of a 
 mouse. It has been robbing me, and I am inflict- 
 ing upon it the doom of a thief." 
 
 "Lord," said the priest, "rather than see thee 
 touch this reptile I would purchase its freedom." 
 
 Then he offered Manawyddan three pounds for 
 
 258
 
 ffrom tbe n&airino<jion 
 
 the mouse, but he said, "I will not sell it for any 
 price." So the priest went his way. 
 
 Then he noosed the string about the mouse's 
 neck; and as he was about to draw it up, behold he 
 saw a bishop's retinue with his horses and attend- 
 ants. And the bishop came toward him, saying, 
 "Heaven's blessing be upon thee; what work art 
 thou upon?" 
 
 "Hanging a thief that I caught robbing me," he 
 replied. 
 
 "Is that not a mouse I see in thy hand?" said 
 the bishop. 
 
 "Yes," answered he, "and she has robbed me." 
 
 "Ay," said the bishop, "since I have come at the 
 doom of this reptile, I will ransom it of thee." 
 
 Then the bishop offered him seven pounds as a 
 ransom for the mouse, saying "I would not see a 
 man of thy rank destroying so vile a reptile as this. 
 Let it loose and thou shalt have the money." 
 
 And when Manawyddan refused to set the 
 mouse free, he said, "I will give thee four and 
 twenty pounds of ready money to set it free." 
 
 And when he still refused, the bishop said, "I 
 will give thee all the horses that thou seest in this 
 plain, and the seven loads of baggage, and the 
 seven horses that they are upon." 
 
 And still Manawyddan replied, "By Heaven, I 
 will not set the mouse free." 
 
 Then the bishop said, "Since thou wilt not do so 
 for this, do so at whatever price thou wilt." 
 
 259
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 "I will do so," Manawyddan said, "If thou wilt 
 set Rhiannon and Pryderi free." 
 
 "That shalt thou have," the bishop answered. 
 
 "Not yet will I loose the mouse, by Heaven." 
 
 "What then wouldst thou?" said the bishop. 
 
 "That the charm and the illusion be removed 
 from the seven Cantrevs of Dyved." 
 
 "This shalt thou also have," said the bishop; set 
 therefore the mouse free." 
 
 "I will not set it free, by Heaven," said he. "I 
 will know who the mouse may be." 
 
 "She is my wife," said the bishop. 
 
 "Even though she be thy wife I will not set her 
 free. Wherefore came she to me?" 
 
 "To despoil thee," the bishop answered. 
 
 Then the bishop told him that he was Llwyd, the 
 son of Kilcoed, and had cast the charm over the 
 seven Cantrevs of Dyved in revenge upon Pryderi 
 for the game of Badger in the Bag. "And when 
 it was known that thou wast come to dwell in the 
 land, at the request of my household I transformed 
 them into mice that they might destroy thy corn. 
 And it was my own household that went the first 
 and the second night, and the third night my wife 
 and the ladies of the court besought me to trans- 
 form them, which I did, and had my wife not been 
 so stout and heavy you could not have caught her. 
 But since this has taken place and she has been 
 caught, I will restore thee Pryderi and Rhiannon, 
 
 260
 
 from tbe flDabinooion 
 
 and I will take the charm and the illusion from 
 off Dyved. So therefore set her free." 
 
 "I will not yet set her free, by Heaven," he said. 
 
 "What wilt thou more?" said the bishop. 
 
 "I will see that there be no more charm upon 
 the seven Cantrevs of Dyved." 
 
 "This shalt thou have," the bishop said, "now 
 set her free." 
 
 "I will not, by my faith," he answered. 
 
 "What wilt thou have furthermore ?" the bishop 
 asked. 
 
 "I will," he replied, "that vengeance be never 
 taken for this, either on Pryderi or Rhiannon or 
 upon me." 
 
 "All this shalt thou have," said the bishop; "now 
 set her free." 
 
 "I will not, by Heaven," he said, "until I see 
 Pryderi and Rhiannon with me free." 
 
 "Behold here they come," the bishop answered. 
 
 And thereupon behold Pryderi and Rhiannon 
 appeared coming toward him. And he rose up to 
 meet them, and greeted them, and took them by 
 the hands and seated them and sat down beside 
 them ; and so also did Kicva. And the joy of that 
 meeting no words can describe. 
 
 Then the bishop said, "Ah, Chieftain, set now 
 my wife at liberty for thou hast received all that 
 thou didst ask." 
 
 "I will release her gladly," said Manawyddan; 
 and thereupon he set her free. Then Llwyd 
 
 261
 
 Wion&er Stories 
 
 struck her with a magic wand, and she was 
 changed back into a young woman, one of the fair- 
 est that was ever seen. 
 
 Then the bishop said, "Look around upon thy 
 land, and thou wilt see it all tilled and peopled, as 
 it was in its best state." 
 
 And Manawyddan rose up and looked forth ; and 
 when he looked he saw all the lands tilled and full 
 of herds and dwellings. And there was rejoicing 
 among them all both high and low; and no more 
 charms were ever placed upon that land; and peace 
 and plenty and quiet and happiness dwelt with 
 them all as long as they lived. 
 
 This story indicates the vivid imagination and the taste 
 of the early people of Wales for tales of magic and en- 
 chantment. The Prince who figures as the hero of the 
 story is the subject of two Welsh poems, in one of which 
 he is spoken of as the maker of golden shoes, and in the 
 other as a minstrel who on account of the captivity of his 
 brother Poran would not afterward resume his princely 
 rank, although he might have done so. 
 
 262
 
 iEi)c flDreatn 
 
 QTI)t SDrcam of tt)t mptror S^axcn UHcfcxg 
 
 LONG time ago Maxen Wledig was em- 
 peror of Rome; and he was a better and 
 a wiser ruler than any emperor before 
 
 him. One day he held a council of the kings of 
 the land and he said to them, "I desire to go to- 
 morrow to hunt." 
 
 So the next day in the morning he set forth with 
 his retinue, and soon came to the valley of the river 
 that flowed through Rome; and he hunted through 
 the valley until mid-day. And with him were two 
 and thirty crowned kings, all of whom were his vas- 
 sals. Now the purpose of the emperor was not so 
 much for the delight of hunting as to put himself 
 on equal terms with those kings and thus win their 
 friendship. 
 
 Soon the sun was high in the sky over their 
 heads, and the heat was very great; and a feeling 
 of sleep came upon Maxen Wledig. As his at- 
 tendants saw it they stood and set up their shields 
 around him upon the shafts of their spears to pro- 
 tect him from the sun, and they placed a gold en- 
 
 263
 
 TOon&er Stories 
 
 amelled shield under his head; and so the Emperor 
 Maxen slept. 
 
 As he slept, he had a dream; and this is what 
 he saw in his dream. He was journeying along the 
 valley of the river towards its source; and he came 
 to the highest mountain in the world. And he 
 thought that the mountain was as high as the sky; 
 and when he came over the mountain, it seemed 
 to him that he went through the fairest and most 
 level regions that man ever yet beheld. And he 
 saw large and mighty rivers descending from the 
 mountain to the sea, and he proceeded towards the 
 mouths of the rivers. 
 
 As he journeyed thus, he came to the mouth 
 of the largest river he had ever seen. At the en- 
 trance of the river he beheld a great city and in 
 the city a vast castle with many high towers of vari- 
 ous colors. At the mouth of the river he saw a 
 fleet, the largest he had ever seen before. And he 
 saw one ship among the fleet which was larger 
 and fairer than all the others. Of such part of the 
 ship as he could see above the water, one plank 
 was gilded and the other silvered over, both shin- 
 ing with great brightness. And as he looked he 
 saw a bridge of the bone of a whale reaching from 
 the land to the ship; and he thought that he went 
 along the bridge, and came into the ship. And a 
 sail was hoisted on the ship, and along the sea and 
 the ocean it was swiftly borne. 
 
 Then it seemed that he came to the fairest island 
 
 264
 
 ITrom tbe nDaWnoofon 
 
 m the whole world, and leaving the ship he 
 traversed the island from sea to sea, even to the 
 furthest shore of the island. And there he saw 
 valleys and steeps, and rocks of wondrous height, 
 and rugged precipices; such as he had never seen 
 the like before. And thence he beheld an island 
 in the sea, facing this rugged land. And between 
 him and this island was a country of which the plain 
 was as large as the sea, and the mountain as vast 
 as the wood. And from the mountain he saw a 
 river that flowed through the land and fell into the 
 sea. And at the mouth of the river he beheld a 
 castle, the fairest that man ever saw; and the gate 
 of the castle was open, and he went into the castle. 
 
 In the castle he saw a fair hall, of which the roof 
 seemed to be all gold, the walls seemed to be en- 
 tirely of precious gems, and the doors all seemed 
 to be of gold. There were also golden seats in the 
 hall, and silver tables. And on a seat opposite to 
 him, he beheld two auburn haired youths playing 
 at chess; and they had a silver board for the chess, 
 and golden pieces thereon. The garments of the 
 youths were of jet black satin, and chaplets of 
 ruddy gold bound their hair, whereon were spark- 
 ling jewels of great price, rubies and gems alter- 
 nately with imperial stones. Buskins of new Cor- 
 dovan leather were on their feet, fastened by slides 
 of red gold. 
 
 And beside a pillar in the hall, he saw a hoary- 
 headed man of powerful aspect, seated in a chair of 
 
 265
 
 TOotfter Stories 
 
 ivory, with the figures of two eagles of ruddy gold 
 thereon. Bracelets of gold were upon his arms, 
 and many rings were on his hands, and a golden 
 torque about his neck; and his hair was bound with 
 a golden diadem. A chess board of gold was be- 
 fore him, and a rod of gold and a steel file were in 
 his hand. And he was carving out chess men. 
 
 And he saw a maiden sitting before him in a 
 chair of ruddy gold; and so great was her beauty 
 that it was even more easy to gaze upon the sun 
 when brightest in the heavens than upon her. A 
 vest of white silk was upon the maiden, with clasps 
 of red gold at the breast; and a surcoat of gold 
 tissue was upon her, and a frontlet of red gold was 
 upon her head, and rubies and gems were in the 
 frontlet, alternating with pearls and imperial 
 stones. And a girdle of ruddy gold was around 
 her waist. Indeed, she was the fairest sight that 
 ever man beheld. 
 
 As the maiden saw him she arose from her chair 
 before him, and he threw his arms about her neck, 
 and they two sat down together in the chair of 
 gold; and the chair was not less roomy for them 
 both than for the maiden alone. And as he sat thus 
 with his arms about the maiden's neck, behold, 
 through the chafing of the dogs at their leashing, 
 and the clashing of the shields as they struck 
 against one another, and the beating together of 
 the shafts of the spears, and the neighing and the 
 prancing of the horses, the emperor awoke. 
 
 266
 
 Jfrom tbe r^abinogion 
 
 When he awoke, neither spirit nor life was left 
 in him, because of the maiden whom he had seen 
 in his sleep, for the love of the maiden pervaded his 
 whole frame. Seeing this his household spake 
 unto him, saying, "Lord, is it not past the time for 
 thee to take thy food?" Thereupon the emperor 
 breathed a deep sigh and mounted his palfrey, the 
 saddest man that mortal ever saw, and went forth 
 toward Rome. 
 
 And thus he was during the space of a whole 
 week. When they of the household went to drink 
 wine and mead out of golden vessels, he went not 
 with any of them. When they went to listen to 
 songs and tales, he went not with them there; 
 neither could he be persuaded to do anything but 
 sleep. And as often as he slept, he beheld in his 
 dreams the maiden who had thus bewitched his 
 heart; but except when he slept he saw nothing 
 of her; and he knew not where in the world she 
 was. 
 
 One day the page of the chamber spake unto 
 him; now, although he was page of the chamber, 
 he was a king of the Romans. "Lord," said he, 
 "all the people revile thee." 
 
 "Wherefore do they revile me?" asked the em- 
 peror. 
 
 "Because they can get neither message nor an- 
 swer from thee as men should have from their lord. 
 This is the cause why thou art spoken evil of." 
 
 "Youth," said the emperor, "do thou bring unto 
 
 267
 
 TKDkmber Stories 
 
 me the wise men of Rome, and I will tell them 
 wherefore I am sorrowful." 
 
 Then the wise men of Rome were brought to 
 the emperor, and he spake to them. "Sages of 
 Rome," said he, "I have seen a dream. And in the 
 dream I beheld a maiden, and because of the 
 maiden is there neither life, nor spirit, nor exist- 
 ence within me." 
 
 "Lord," they answered, "since thou judgest us 
 worthy to counsel thee, we will give thee counsel. 
 And this is our counsel; that thou send messengers 
 for three years to three parts of the world, to seek 
 the object of thy dream. And as thou knowest not 
 what day or what night good news may come to 
 thee, the hope thereof will support thee." 
 
 So the messengers journeyed for the space of a 
 year, wandering about the world, and seeking tid- 
 ings concerning his dream. But when they came 
 back at the end of the year, they knew not one 
 word more than they did the day they set forth. 
 And then was the emperor exceedingly sorrowful, 
 for he thought that he should never have tidings 
 of the maiden whose beauty had enchanted his 
 heart. 
 
 Then spake one of the kings of the Romans unto 
 the emperor. "Lord," said he, "go forth to hunt 
 by the way thou didst seem to go, whether it were 
 to the east or to the west." 
 
 So the emperor went forth to the hunt, going 
 in the direction of the stream. And anon he came 
 
 268
 
 Jftom tbe flDabinoston 
 
 to the bank of the river. "Behold," said he, "this 
 is where I was when I saw the dream, and I went 
 towards the source of the river westward." 
 
 And thereupon thirteen messengers of the em- 
 peror set forth, and before them they saw a high 
 mountain which seemed to them to touch the sky. 
 Now this was the guise in which the messengers 
 journeyed; one sleeve was on the cap of each of 
 them in front, as a sign that they were messengers, 
 in order that through what hostile land soever they 
 might pass no harm might be done them. And 
 when they were come over the mountain, they be- 
 held vast plains and large rivers flowing through 
 them. "Behold," said they, "the land which our 
 master saw." 
 
 And they went along the mouths of the rivers, 
 until they came to a mighty river flowing toward 
 the sea; and there was a vast city and a castle in 
 it with many colored high towers in the castle. And 
 there they saw the largest fleet in the world, in the 
 harbor of the river, and one ship that was larger 
 than any of the others. "Behold, again," said they, 
 "the dream that our master saw." 
 
 And they entered the great ship and crossed the 
 sea, and came to the Island of Britain. And they 
 traversed the island until they came to Snowdon. 
 "Behold," said they, "the rugged land that our 
 master saw." 
 
 And they went forward again until they saw 
 Anglesey before them, and until they saw Arvon 
 
 269
 
 WKmfcer Stories 
 
 likewise. "Behold," said they, "the land our mas- 
 ter saw in his sleep." 
 
 And they saw Aber Sain, and a castle at the 
 mouth of the river. The portal of the castle saw 
 they open, and into the castle they went, and they 
 saw a hall in the castle. Then said they, "Behold, 
 the hall which he saw in his sleep." 
 
 They went into the hall and beheld there two 
 youths playing at chess on the golden bench. And 
 they saw the hoary-headed man beside the pillar, 
 in the ivory chair, carving chessmen. And there 
 before them they beheld the maiden sitting in a 
 chair of ruddy gold. 
 
 Then the messengers bent down upon their 
 knees, and said, "Empress of Rome, all hail !" 
 
 "Ha, gentles," said the maiden, "ye bear the 
 seeming of honorable men, and the badge of en- 
 voys; what mockery is this ye do to me?" 
 
 "We mock thee not, lady; but the Emperor of 
 Rome hath seen thee in his sleep, and he has 
 neither life nor spirit left because of thee. Thou 
 shalt have of us therefore the choice, lady, whether 
 thou wilt go with us and be made Empress of 
 Rome, or that the emperor come hither and take 
 thee for his wife?" 
 
 "Ha, lords," said the maiden, "I will not deny 
 what ye say, neither will I believe it too eagerly. 
 If the emperor loves me, let him come here to 
 seek me." 
 
 Then by day and by night the messengers hied 
 
 270
 
 fftom tbe flDabinogion 
 
 them back to Rome. And when their horses 
 failed, they bought other fresh ones and thus 
 hastened on their way. And when they came to 
 Rome they saluted the emperor and told him what 
 they had seen. "We will be thy guides, lord," said 
 they, "over sea and over land, to the place where 
 is the woman whom best thou lovest, for we know 
 her name, and her kindred, and her race." Then 
 they asked their boon, which was given to them 
 according as they named it. 
 
 2/1
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 HOW THE EMPEROR FOUND THE OBJECT OF HIS 
 DREAM 
 
 NOW immediately the emperor set forth with 
 his army; and these men were his guides. 
 Towards Britain they went, over the sea 
 and the deep. And the emperor knew the land 
 when he saw it, for it was as in his dream. And 
 when the men of that land rose against him, he 
 conquered the island from Beli, the son of Mano- 
 gan, and his sons, and drove them to the sea, and 
 went forward even unto Arvon. And when he 
 beheld the castle of Aber Sain, he said, "Look 
 yonder, there is the castle wherein I saw the 
 damsel whom best I love." 
 
 And he went forward into the castle and into the 
 hall, and there he saw Kynan, the son of Eudav, 
 and Adeon, the son of Eudav, playing at chess. 
 And he saw Eudav, the son of Caradawc, sitting on 
 a chair of ivory, carving chessmen. And the 
 maiden whom he had beheld in his sleep, he saw 
 sitting in a chair of gold. 
 
 "Empress of Rome," said he, "all hail!" And 
 the emperor threw his arms about her neck; and 
 that night she became his bride. 
 
 And the next day in the morning, the damsel 
 asked her maiden portion; and the emperor told 
 
 272
 
 ffrom tbc 
 
 her to name what she would. And she asked to 
 have the Island of Britain for her father, from the 
 channel to the Irish Sea, together with the three 
 adjacent lands, to hold under the Empress of 
 Rome; and to have three chief castles made for 
 her, in whatever places she might choose in the 
 Island of Britain. To this the emperor agreed; 
 and she choose to have the highest castle made at 
 Arvon. And they brought thither earth from 
 Rome that it might be more healthful for the em- 
 peror to sleep and sit and walk upon. After that 
 the two other castles were made for her, which 
 were Caerleon and Caermarthen. 
 
 And one day the emperor went to hunt at Caer- 
 marthen, and he came so far as the top of Brevi 
 Vawr, and there the emperor pitched his tent. And 
 that encamping place is called Cadeir Maxen, even 
 to this day. And because that he built the castle 
 with a myriad of men, he called it Caervyrddin, 
 Then Helen, the empress, bethought her to make 
 high roads from one castle to another throughout 
 the Island of Britain; and the roads were made. 
 And for this cause are they called the roads of 
 Helen Luyddawc, for the men of the Island of 
 Britain would not have made these great roads 
 for any save for her. 
 
 Seven years did the emperor tarry in this island. 
 Now, at that time, the men of Rome had a custom, 
 that whatsoever emperor should remain in other 
 lands more than seven years, should remain to his 
 
 273
 
 Member Stories 
 
 own overthrow, and should never return to Rome 
 again. So they made a new emperor; and he wrote 
 a letter of threat to Maxen. There was nought in 
 the letter but only this: "If thou comest, and if 
 thou ever comest to Rome." This letter came to 
 Maxen at Caerleon, and these tidings. 
 
 Then sent he a letter to the man who styled him- 
 self emperor of Rome. There was nought in that 
 letter also but only this : "If I come to Rome, and 
 if I come." 
 
 Thereupon Maxen set forth towards Rome with 
 his army; and on his way he vanquished France and 
 Burgundy, and every other land through which he 
 passed. At length he reached the city of Rome, 
 which was now in the hands of the usurper. 
 
 For a whole year the emperor was before the 
 city and though he made frequent attacks upon it, 
 he was no nearer taking it than on the first day of 
 his arrival. At the beginning of the second year 
 there came to visit him the brothers of Helen 
 Luyddawc from the Island of Britain, and a small 
 host with them. Though the host was few in num- 
 bers yet they were better warriors than twice as 
 many Romans. The emperor was told that a host 
 was seen halting close to his army and encamping; 
 and as he looked upon them he thought that no 
 man ever saw a fairer or better appointed host for 
 its size nor more handsome standards. 
 
 When Helen, the empress, heard of the arrival 
 of the stranger band she went out to look upon 
 
 274
 
 fftom tbe fl&abtnofiton 
 
 them, and she knew the standards of her brothers, 
 and she told the emperor who they were. And 
 Kynan, the son of Eudav, and Adeon, the son of 
 Eudav, came to meet the emperor; and the em- 
 peror was glad because of them and gave them fit- 
 ting welcome and embraced them. 
 
 On the morrow as the Romans renewed their at- 
 tack upon the city the men of Britain looked upon 
 the battle and observed the defense. And Kynan 
 said to his brothers, "We will try to attack the city 
 more expertly than this." So they measured by 
 night the height of the wall, and they sent their 
 carpenters to the woods to prepare long and slen- 
 der poles out of which they made a ladder for every 
 four men of their number. 
 
 Now it was that very day at midday the two em- 
 perors went to meat, and they ceased to fight on 
 both sides till all had finished eating. So in the 
 morning the men of Britain took their food, and 
 they drank until they were strong and ready for 
 the attack. And while the two emperors were at 
 meat, the Britons came to the city and placed their 
 ladders againt the wall, and forthwith they 
 mounted their ladders and entered the city. 
 
 So sudden was the attack that the new emperor 
 had no time to arm himself, and so they fell upon 
 him and slew him and many others with him. And 
 three nights and three days were they subduing 
 the men that were in the city and taking the cas- 
 tle. And others of them kept the city, lest any of 
 
 275
 
 member Stotie0 
 
 of the host of Maxen should come therein, until 
 they had subjected all to their will. 
 
 Then spake Maxen to Helen Luyddawc, and 
 said, "I marvel, lady, that thy brothers have not 
 conquered this city for me." 
 
 "Lord, emperor, she answered, "the wisest 
 youths in the world are my brothers. Go thou 
 thither and ask the city of them, and if it be in their 
 possession thou shalt have it gladly." 
 
 So the emperor and Helen went and demanded 
 the city of the Britons. And they told the emperor 
 that none had taken the city and that none could 
 give it to him, but the men of the Island of Britain. 
 Then the gates of the city of Rome were opened, 
 and the emperor entered it with great pomp and 
 sat on the throne, and all the men of Rome sub- 
 mitted themselves unto him. 
 
 The emperor then said unto Kynan and Adeon, 
 "Lords," said he, "I have now possession of the 
 whole of my empire, and no longer need the aid of 
 my brave warriors. This host I give unto you to 
 vanquish whatever region you may desire in all 
 the world. And whatever lands you may conquer 
 those you may occupy and your descendants for- 
 ever." 
 
 So they set forth with a great host of warriors 
 and conquered many lands and castles and cities. 
 And they slew all the men of these lands, but the 
 women they kept alive for the wives of the war- 
 riors. And thus they continued until the young 
 
 276
 
 Jftom the HDairinogiort 
 
 men who had come with them were grown gray- 
 headed, from the length of time they were upon 
 this conquest. 
 
 Then spoke Kynan unto Adeon, his brother, 
 saying, "Wilt thou rather tarry in this land, or go 
 back unto the land whence thou didst come forth ?" 
 
 And Adeon answered, V I will go back to my 
 own land." 
 
 So he chose to go back to his own land, and 
 many of his people went with him. But Kynan 
 tarried in the country and settled there in a part 
 that is now called the land of Brittany. And they 
 took counsel and cut out the tongues of all the 
 women they had captured so that they could not 
 talk and thus corrupt the speech of their captors. 
 And because of the silence of the women from their 
 own speech the language of the Britons was pre- 
 served, and there you can hear it spoken unto this 
 day. 
 
 And this is called the Dream of Maxen Wledig, 
 Emperor of Rome. And here it ends. 
 
 Maxen Wledig Is supposed to be the Emperor Maximus, 
 A. D. 383, who was in Britain with his army when he 
 obtained the throne. Manv stories about him were cur- 
 rent among the people of Wales. It is said that he ren- 
 dered pa'-t of Britain desolate by transporting many of 
 the people l^to Onul. where they are supposed to have 
 formed tM P-Pt^n 'mm'eTation. He was put to d^ath 
 pfter h^vlne; be'n defend by Theodosius and Valentinlan 
 the Younger, in 388 A. D. 
 
 277
 
 SHie >torp of ]Uub& and ilieb elpg 
 
 ANY years ago in Wales lived a king 
 named Beli the Great. He had three 
 sons, Lludd, Caswallawn and Nynyaw, 
 and also a younger son named Llevelys. After 
 the death of Beli, the kingdom of the Island of 
 Britain fell into the hands of Lludd, his eldest son. 
 He was a great warrior and ruled prosperously, 
 and rebuilt the walls of London, and encompassed 
 the city with numberless towers. He also bade 
 the citizens build houses therein, such as no 
 houses in the kingdom could equal in size and 
 beauty. And though he had many castles and 
 cities, he loved this city more than any other; and 
 he dwelt therein most of the year. Therefore it 
 was called Caer Lludd, and at last Caer London, 
 Now Lludd loved Llevelys best of all his broth- 
 ers, because he was a wise and discreet man. Hav- 
 ing heard that the King of France had died, leav- 
 ing no heir except a daughter, and that he had left 
 all his possessions in her hands, Llevelys came to 
 
 278
 
 ffrom tbe HDabtnoaion 
 
 Lludd his brother to beseech his counsel whether 
 he might go to France to woo the maiden for his 
 wife. And he did this, not so much for his own 
 welfare as to seek to add to the glory and honor 
 and dignity of his kindred. 
 
 This proposal was pleasing to the king, so 
 Llevelys prepared ships, and filled them with 
 armed knights, and set forth towards France. As 
 soon as they had landed, they sent messengers to 
 the nobles of France to explain the cause of the 
 embassy. And through the counsel of the nobles 
 of France and of the princes, the maiden was given 
 to Llevelys, and the crown of the kingdom with 
 her. And thenceforth he ruled the land discreetly 
 and wisely and happily as long as he lived. 
 
 Now it happened on a time that three plagues 
 fell on the Island of Britain, such as none in the 
 islands had ever seen the like of before. The first 
 was a certain race that came, called the Coranions; 
 and so great was their knowledge, that there was 
 no discourse upon the face of the island, however 
 low it might be spoken, but that if the wind met it, 
 it was known to them. And through this knowl- 
 edge they could not be injured. 
 
 The second plague was a shriek which came on 
 every May-eve to every home in the Island of 
 Britain. So loud was the shriek that it went 
 through the people's hearts, and scared them so 
 greatly that the men lost their hue and their 
 strength, and the young men and the maidens lost 
 
 279
 
 "Cdonfccr Stories 
 
 their senses, and all the animals and trees, and the 
 earth and the waters, were left barren. 
 
 The third plague was, that however much food 
 and provisions might be prepared in the king's 
 courts, none of it could ever be found, except what 
 was consumed in the first night. Of these two 
 plagues no one ever knew the cause, therefore 
 there seemed better hope of being freed from the 
 first than from the second and third. 
 
 Now King Lludd felt great sorrow and care, be- 
 cause that he knew not how he might be freed from 
 these plagues. So he called to him all the nobles 
 of his kingdom, and asked counsel of them what 
 they should do against these afflictions. Then by 
 the common counsel of the nobles it was thought 
 best for King Lludd to go to Llevelys, his brother, 
 King of France, for he was a man great of counsel 
 and wisdom, to seek his advice. 
 
 Soon they made ready a fleet, and that in secret 
 and in silence, that no one should know the cause 
 of their errand besides the king and his counsellors. 
 When they were ready, they went into their ships, 
 Lludd and those whom he chose to go with him. 
 And they began to cleave the seas towards France. 
 
 Now when these tidings came to Llevelys, see- 
 ing that he knew not the cause of his brothers 
 ships, he came from the other side to meet him, 
 and with him was a fleet vast of size. When Lludd 
 saw this, he left all the ships out upon the sea ex- 
 cept one only; and in that one he came to meet 
 
 280
 
 jftom tbe flDabinofiion 
 
 his brother, and he likewise with a single ship 
 came to meet him. When they were come to- 
 gether, each put his arms about the other's neck, 
 and they welcomed each other with brotherly love. 
 
 When Lludd had shown his brother the cause of 
 his errand, Llevelys said that he himself knew the 
 cause of his coming to visit him. So they took 
 counsel together to discourse on the matter in a 
 manner that the wind might not catch their words, 
 nor the Coranians know what they might say. For 
 this purpose Llevelys caused a long horn to be 
 made of brass, and through this horn they dis- 
 coursed together; but whatsoever words they 
 spoke through this'horn, one to the other, neither 
 of them could hear any other but harsh and hostile 
 words. When Llevelys saw this, and that there 
 was a demon thwarting them, and disturbing them 
 through this horn, he caused wine to be put there- 
 in to cleanse it. And through the virtue of the 
 wine the demon was driven out of the horn. 
 
 Now when their discourse was unobstructed, 
 Llevelys told his brother that he would give him 
 some insects, whereof he should keep some to 
 breed; and the others he should take and bruise 
 in water. And he assured him that the mixture 
 would have power to destroy the race of the Cora- 
 nians. He also advised him that when he came 
 home to his kingdom, he should call together all 
 the people, both of his own race and of the race 
 of the Coranians, for a conference, as though with 
 
 281
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 the intent of making peace between them, and that 
 when they were all together he should take this 
 charmed water, and cast it over all alike. And he 
 assured him that the water would poison the race 
 of the Coranians, but that it would not slay or 
 harm those of his own race. 
 
 "As for the second plague," said he, "that is in 
 thy dominion, behold that is a dragon. And an- 
 other dragon of a foreign race is righting with it, 
 and striving to overcome it; and therefore does 
 your dragon make a fearful outcry. And on this 
 wise thou mayest come to know this. After thou 
 hast returned home, cause the island to be meas- 
 ured in its length and breadth; and in the place 
 where thou dost find the exact central point, cause 
 there a pit to be dug, and cause a caldron full of 
 the best mead that can be made to be put in the 
 pit, with a covering of satin over the face of the 
 caldron. And then do thou thyself remain there 
 watching, and thou wilt see the dragons fighting 
 in the form of terrific animals. As they fight they, 
 will take the form of dragons in the air; and after 
 wearying themselves with fierce and furious fight- 
 ing, they will fall, in the form of two pigs, upon 
 the covering, and they will sink in, and the cov- 
 ering with them, and they will draw it down to the 
 very bottom of the caldron. Then they will drink 
 up the whole of the mead; and after that they 
 will sleep. Thereupon do thou immediately fold 
 the covering around them, and bury them in a 
 
 282
 
 ffrom tbe nDabinogion 
 
 kistvaen in the strongest place thou hast in thy 
 dominions, and hide them in the earth. And as 
 long as they shall abide in that strong place, no 
 plague shall come to the Island of Britain from 
 elsewhere. 
 
 "The cause of the third plague," said he, "is a 
 mighty man of magic, who takes thy meat and 
 thy drink and thy provisions. And it is through 
 illusions and charms that he causes every one to 
 sleep. Therefore it is needful for thee in thy own 
 person to watch thy food and thy drink and thy 
 provisions. And lest he should overcome thee 
 with sleep, let there be a caldron of cold water by 
 thy side; and when thou art oppressed with sleep, 
 plunge into the caldron." 
 
 Then Lludd returned again unto his own coun- 
 try. And immediately he summoned to him the 
 whole of his own people and also the Coranians. 
 And, as Llevelys had taught him, he bruised the 
 insects in water, and cast the water over them 
 all together, and forthwith it destroyed the whole 
 tribe of the Coranians, without hurt to any of the 
 Britons. 
 
 Soon after this Lludd caused the island to be 
 measured in its length and in its breadth. The 
 central point was found in Oxford, and in that 
 place he caused a pit to be dug in the earth, and 
 in that pit a caldron to be set full of the best mead 
 that could be made, and a covering of satin placed 
 over the face of it. And he himself watched that 
 
 283
 
 night; and while he was watching, he beheld the 
 dragons fighting. And when they were weary 
 with their conflict they fell, and came down upon 
 the top of the satin, and drew it with them to the 
 bottom of the caldron. And when they had drunk 
 the mead they slept. As they slept Lludd folded 
 the covering around them, and in the securest 
 place he had in Snowdon he hid them in a kistvaen. 
 After that, this spot was called Dinas Emrys, but 
 before that, Dinas Ffaraon. And thus the fierce 
 outcry ceased in his dominions. 
 
 Now when this was ended, King Lludd caused 
 an exceedingly great banquet to be prepared. Arid 
 when it was ready, he placed a vessel of cold water 
 by his side, and he in his own person watched it. 
 As he abode thus clad with arms, about the third 
 watch of the night, lo, he heard many surpassing 
 fascinations and various songs. And drowsiness 
 urged him to sleep; but lest he should be hindered 
 from his purpose, and be overcome by sleep, he 
 went often into the water. At last, behold a man 
 of vast size, clad in strong, heavy armor, came in, 
 bearing a hamper. And as he was wont, he put all 
 the food and provisions of meat and drink into the 
 hamper, and proceeded to go forth with it. And 
 nothing was ever more wonderful to Lludd than 
 that the hamper should hold so much. 
 
 Thereupon King Lludd went after him, and 
 spoke unto him thus: "Stop, stop," said he, 
 "though thou hast done many insults and much 
 
 284
 
 Jtom tbe flDabinogfon 
 
 spoil erewhile, thou shalt not do so any more, un- 
 less thy skill in arms and thy prowess be greater 
 than mine." 
 
 Then the giant instantly put down the hamper 
 on the floor, and awaited him. And a fierce battle 
 was fought between them, so that the glittering 
 fire flew out from their arms. At the last Lludd 
 grappled with him, and fate bestowed the victory 
 on the king; and he threw the plague to the earth. 
 And after he had overcome him by strength and 
 might the giant besought his mercy. 
 
 "How can I grant thee mercy," said the king, 
 "after all the many injuries and wrongs that thou 
 hast done me?" 
 
 "For all the losses that ever I have caused thee/' 
 said he, "I will make thee an atonement equal to 
 what I have taken. And I will never do the like 
 from this time forth, but will be thy faithful vassal." 
 
 The king accepted this promise and granted 
 mercy to him. And thus the land was delivered 
 from all the plagues that had disturbed it, by the 
 wisdom of Llevelys and the valor of King Lludd. 
 And from that time until the end of his life did 
 Lludd rule over the Island of Britain. 
 
 Lludd Is the celebrated King Lludd, brother to Caesar's 
 great opponent Cassibelaunis. Geoffrey of Monmouth, in 
 his history of the Britons, records his fortifying and 
 decorating the city in nearly the same terms as the 
 MabinogJ, stating that it was from him called Caerlud, 
 afterward corrupted into Caer London, then into London, 
 and lastly by the foreigners into Londres. 
 
 283
 
 "CQonfcer Stories 
 
 Among the Welsh legends one of the most curious is 
 that of the imprisonment of the Dragons in Dinas Emrys 
 in Snowdon. This story is related by Geoffrey, and it is 
 found in Nennius, who wrote in the eighth century, and 
 of whose works some copies as old as the tenth century 
 are still extant. The red dragon has long been the natural 
 standard of the Welsh, and was borne by Henry VII at 
 Bosworth field. 
 
 286
 
 Lleto Li a to and tji* Wife 
 
 CEijapttt I 
 
 ttotu Lie to tlate>0otfji* /lame an* t)i tUift, 
 
 ANY years ago, Math, son of Mathony, 
 was lord over Gwynedd; and Gwydion 
 was his brother. As Gwydion lay one 
 morning upon his bed, he heard a cry in the chest 
 at his feet; and though it was not loud, it was such 
 that he could hear it distinctly. Then he arose in 
 haste, and opened the chest; and when he opened 
 it, he beheld an infant boy stretching out his arms 
 from the folds of the scarf, and casting it aside. 
 Taking up the boy in his arms, he carried him to 
 a place where he knew there was a woman that 
 could nurse him. And he agreed with the woman 
 that she should take charge of the boy. And she 
 nursed him that year. 
 
 At the end of the year he seemed by his size as 
 though he were two years old. And the second 
 year he was so large that he was able to go to the 
 court by himself. When he came to the court, 
 Gwydion noticed him, and the boy became familiar 
 with him, and loved him better than any one else. 
 So the boy was reared at the court until he was 
 
 287
 
 Monger Stories 
 
 four years old, when he was as big as an ordinary 
 boy eight years old. 
 
 One day Gwydion walked forth, and the boy 
 followed him; and he went to the Castle of Arian- 
 rod, having the boy with him. And when he came 
 into the court, Arianrod, the owner of the castle, 
 arose to meet him, and greeted him, and bade him 
 welcome. 
 
 "Heaven prosper thee," said Gwydion. 
 
 "What is the name of the boy you have with 
 you ?" said Arianrod. 
 
 "Verily," he replied, "he has not yet a name." 
 
 "Well," she said, "I lay this destiny upon him, 
 that he shall never have a name until he receives 
 one from me." 
 
 "Heaven bears me witness," answered he, "that 
 thou art a wicked woman. But the boy shall have 
 a name, however displeasing it may be unto thee." 
 And thereupon he went forth in wrath, and re- 
 turned to Caer Dathyl, and there he tarried that 
 night. 
 
 The next day he arose and took the boy with 
 him, and went to walk on the seashore between 
 that place and Aber Menei. And there he saw 
 some sedges and seaweed, and he gathered some of 
 them and turned them into a boat. And out of 
 dry sticks and sedges he made some Cordovan 
 leather; and he colored it in such a manner that 
 no one ever saw leather more beautiful than it. 
 Then he made a sail to the boat, and he and the 
 
 288
 
 t)c came into ttje court 
 Hnanro& arouc to meet
 
 Jtom the n&abinogion 
 
 boy went in it to the port of the Castle of Arianrod. 
 And there he began making shoes, and stitching 
 them, until he was observed from the castle. Now 
 when he knew that they of the castle were observ- 
 ing him, he disguised himself and the boy, so that 
 they might not be known. 
 
 When Arianrod saw them, she said, "What men 
 are those in yonder boat?" 
 
 "They are cordwainers," they answered. 
 
 "Go and see what kind of leather they have, and 
 what kind of work they can do," said she. 
 
 So they came unto them, and found Gwydion 
 coloring some Cordovan leather, and gilding it. 
 And the messengers came and told her this. 
 
 "Well," said she, "take the measure of my foot, 
 and bid the cordwainer to make shoes for me." 
 
 So Gwydion made a pair of shoes for her, yet not 
 according to the measure, but larger. The shoes 
 were then brought unto her, and behold they were 
 too large. 
 
 "These are too large," said she; "but he shall 
 receive their value. Bid him also to make some 
 that are smaller than these." 
 
 Then he made her another pair of shoes that 
 were much smaller than her feet, and sent them 
 unto her. 
 
 "Tell him," she said, "that these are too small 
 and will not go on my feet." And they told him 
 this. 
 
 "Verily," said he, "I will not make her any more 
 
 289
 
 Wlonber Stories 
 
 shoes unless I see her foot." And this was told 
 unto her. 
 
 "Truly," she answered, "then I will go unto 
 him." 
 
 So she went down to the boat, and when she 
 came there he was shaping shoes, and the boy was 
 stitching them. 
 
 "Ah, lady," said he, "good day to thee." 
 
 "Heaven prosper thee," said she. "I marvel 
 that thou canst not manage to make shoes accord- 
 ing to measure." 
 
 "I could not," he replied; "but now I shall be 
 able." 
 
 Thereupon behold a wren stood upon the deck 
 of the boat; and the boy shot at it, and hit it in the 
 leg between the sinew and the bone. At this the 
 lady smiled and said, "Verily, with a steady hand 
 did the lion aim at it." 
 
 "Heaven reward thee not; but now has he got a 
 name. And a good enough name it is. Llew Llaw 
 Gyffes he shall be called henceforth, for that is the 
 meaning of thy words." 
 
 Then all the work disappeared in seaweed and 
 sedges, and he went on with it no further. And 
 for that reason was he called the third Gold-shoe- 
 maker. 
 
 "Of a truth," said Arianrod, "thou wilt not 
 thrive the better for doing evil unto me." 
 
 "I have done thee no evil yet," answered 
 290
 
 from tbe flDa&inogion 
 
 Gwydion. Then he restored the boy to his own 
 form. 
 
 "Well," said she, "I will lay a destiny upon this 
 boy, that he shall never have arms and armor until 
 I invest him with them." 
 
 "By Heaven," said he, "let thy malice be what 
 it may, he shall have arms." 
 
 Then they went towards Dinas Dinllev, and 
 there he brought up Llew Llaw Gyffes until he 
 could manage any horse, and he was perfect in 
 features and strength and stature. And when 
 Gwydion saw that he languished through the want 
 of horses and arms, he called him unto him, and 
 said, "Ah, youth, we will go to-morrow on an er- 
 rand together. Be therefore more cheerful than 
 thou art." 
 
 "That I will," said the youth. 
 
 Next morning, at the dawn of day, they arose; 
 and they took their way along the seacoast, up 
 towards Bryn Aryen. And at the top of Cevn 
 Clydno they equipped themselves with horses, and 
 went toward the Castle of Arianrod. And they 
 changed their form, and rode towards the gate in 
 the semblance of two youths; but the aspect of 
 Gwydion was more staid than that of the other. 
 
 "Porter," said he, "go thou in and say that there 
 are here two bards from Glamorgan." 
 
 So the porter went in, and told him as he was 
 bidden.
 
 Hfflotfter 3torte0 
 
 "The welcome of Heaven be unto them. Let 
 them in," said Arianrod. 
 
 As they entered they were greeted with great 
 joy; and soon the hall was arranged, and they went 
 to meat. When meat was ended, Arianrod dis- 
 coursed with Gwydion of tales and stories, for 
 Gwydion was an excellent teller of tales. And 
 when it was time to leave off feasting and the tell- 
 ing of tales, a chamber was prepared for them, and 
 they went to rest. 
 
 In the early twilight Gwydion arose, and he 
 called unto him his magic and his power of en- 
 chantment. And by the time that the day dawned, 
 there resounded through the land a great uproar, 
 and trumpets and shouts. When it was now day, 
 they heard a knocking at the door of the cham- 
 ber, and therewith Arianrod asking that it might 
 be opened. So up rose the youth and opened the 
 door unto her, and she entered, and a maiden with 
 her. 
 
 "Ah, good men," she said, "in an evil plight are 
 we." 
 
 "Yes, truly," said Gwydion, "we have heard 
 trumpets, and shouts. What thinkest thou that 
 they may mean?" 
 
 "Verily," said she, "we cannot see the color of 
 the ocean by reason of all the ships side by side. 
 And they are making for the land with all the speed 
 they can. And what can we do ?" said she. 
 
 "Lady," said Gwydion, "there is nqne other
 
 fftom tbe flDalrinoaion 
 
 counsel than to close the castle upon us, and to 
 defend it as best we may." 
 
 "Truly," said she, "may Heaven reward you; 
 and do you defend it. And here may you have 
 plenty of arms." 
 
 And thereupon she went forth for the arms, and 
 behold she returned, and the two maidens with her, 
 carrying suits of armor for two men. 
 
 "Lady," said he, "do thou accoutre this strip- 
 ling, and I will arm myself, with the help of thy 
 maidens. Lo, I hear the tumult of the men ap- 
 proaching." 
 
 "I will do so gladly," she replied. So she armed 
 him fully, and that right cheerfully. 
 
 "Hast thou finished arming the youth?" said 
 Gwydion. 
 
 "I have finished," she answered. 
 
 "I likewise have finished," said Gwydion. "Let 
 us now take off our arms; for we have no need of 
 them." 
 
 "Wherefore?" said she. "Here is the army 
 around the house." 
 
 "Oh, lady, there is here no army." 
 
 "Why!" cried she. "Whence then was this tu- 
 mult?" 
 
 "The tumult was but to break thy prophecy, and 
 to obtain arms for my son. And now has he got 
 arms without any thanks unto thee." 
 
 "By Heaven," said Arianrod, "thou art a wicked 
 man. Many a youth might have lost his life 
 
 293
 
 Monger Storied 
 
 through the uproar thou hast caused in this can- 
 trev to-day. Now will I lay a destiny upon this 
 youth," she said, "that he shall never have a wife 
 of the race that now inhabits this earth." 
 
 "Verily," said he, "thou wast ever a malicious 
 woman, and no one ought to support thee. A wife 
 shall he have notwithstanding." 
 
 Thereupon they went unto Math, the son of 
 Mathonwy, and complained unto him most bitterly 
 of Arianrod, and Gwydion showed him also how 
 he had procured arms for the youth. "Well," said 
 Math, "we will seek, I and thou, by charms and il- 
 lusion, to form a wife for him out of flowers. He 
 has now come to man's stature, and he is the come- 
 liest youth that was ever beheld." 
 
 So they took the blossoms of the oak, and the 
 blossoms of the broom, and the blossoms of the 
 meadow-sweet, and produced from them a maiden, 
 the fairest and most graceful that man ever saw. 
 And they baptized her, and gave her the name of 
 Blodeuwedd. 
 
 And after she had become his bride, and they 
 had feasted, Gwydion said, "It is not easy for a 
 man to maintain himself without possessions." 
 
 "Of a truth," said Math, "I will give the young 
 man the best cantrev that I possess." 
 
 "And what cantrev is that?" he inquired. 
 
 "The Cantrev of Dinodig," he answered. 
 
 Now the cantrev is called at this day Eivionydd 
 and Ardudwy. And the place in the cantrev where 
 
 294
 
 fftom tbe fl&abinogion 
 
 he dwelt was a palace in a spot called Mur y Cas- 
 tell, on the confines of Ardudwy. And there he 
 dwelt and reigned, and both he and his sway were 
 beloved by all the people. 
 
 295
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE FATE OF LLEW LLAW AND HIS WIFE 
 
 ONE day Llew Llaw went forth to Caer 
 Dathyl to visit Math. And on the day 
 that he set out for Caer Dathyl, his wife 
 Blodeuwedd walked in the court. And she heard 
 the sound of a horn; and after the sound of the 
 horn she saw a tired stag go by, with dogs and 
 huntsmen following it. And after the dogs and 
 the huntsmen there came a crowd of men on foot. 
 Seeing these she said, "Send a youth to ask who 
 yonder host may be." 
 
 So a youth was sent and inquired who they were. 
 And they said, "This is Gronw Pebyr, the lord of 
 Penllynn." And this the youth reported to her. 
 
 Now Gronw Pebyr pursued the stag, and by the 
 River Cynvael he overtook it and killed it. And 
 what with flaying the stag, and baiting his dogs, 
 he was there until the night began to close in upon 
 him. As the day departed and the night drew near, 
 he came to the gate of the court to seek entrance 
 into the castle. 
 
 "Verily," said Blodeuwedd, "the chieftain will 
 speak ill of us if we let him at this hour depart to 
 another land without inviting him in." 
 
 296
 
 fftom tbe flDabinogton 
 
 "Yes, truly, lady," said they, "it will be most fit' 
 ting to invite him to enter." 
 
 So they sent messengers to meet him and bid 
 him to come in. And he accepted her bidding 
 gladly, and came to the court; and Blodeuwedd 
 went to meet him and greeted him, and bade him 
 welcome. "Lady," said he, "Heaven repay thee 
 for thy kindness." And he spent the night in the 
 castle. 
 
 Now as Blodeuwedd and Gronw Pebyr con- 
 versed together they fell deeply in love with each 
 other, and forgetting her wifely duty she began to 
 plot with Gronw how they might slay her hus- 
 band and enjoy his possessions. So it was agreed 
 that she should find out by what means he might 
 come to his death. 
 
 The following day Llew Llaw Gyffes returned 
 to his home, and the day was spent in discourse 
 and minstrelsy and feasting. And at night when 
 they went to rest, he spoke to Blodeuwedd, and 
 receiving no answer he spoke to her a second time. 
 But for all this he could not get from her one word. 
 "What aileth thee ?" said he. "Art thou not well ?" 
 
 "I was thinking," said she, "of that which thou 
 didst never think of concerning me; for I was sor- 
 rowful as to thy death, lest thou shouldst go sooner 
 than I." 
 
 "Heaven reward thee for thy care for me," said 
 he. "But until Heaven take me I shall not easily 
 be slain." 
 
 297
 
 TOcmfcer Stories 
 
 "For the sake of Heaven, and for mine, show me 
 how thou mightest be slain. My memory in 
 guarding the secret is better than thine." 
 
 "I will tell thee gladly," said he. "Not easily 
 can I be slain, except by a wound. And the spear 
 wherewith I am struck must be a year in the form- 
 ing. And nothing must be done towards it, except 
 during the sacrifice on Sundays." 
 
 "Is this certain?" asked she. 
 
 "It is in truth," he answered. "And I cannot be 
 slain within a house nor without it. I cannot be 
 slain on horseback nor on foot." 
 
 "Verily," said she, "in what manner, then, canst 
 thou be slain?" 
 
 "I will tell thee," said he. "By making a bath 
 for me by the side of a river, and by putting a roof 
 over the caldron, and thatching it well and tightly, 
 and bringing a buck, and putting it beside the cal- 
 dron. Then if I place one foot on the buck's back, 
 and the other on the edge of the caldron, whoso- 
 ever strikes me thus will cause my death." 
 
 "Well," said she, "I thank Heaven that it will be 
 easy to avoid this." 
 
 No sooner had she held this discourse than she 
 sent to Gronw Pebyr, and told him all she had 
 learned. So to carry out their purpose Gronw 
 toiled at making the spear, and that day twelve- 
 month it was ready. And that very day he caused 
 her to be informed thereof. 
 
 "Lord," said Blodeuwedd unto Llew, "I have 
 
 298
 
 from the nDabino$ton 
 
 been thinking how it is possible that what thou 
 didst tell me formerly can be true. Wilt thou 
 show me in what manner thou couldst stand at 
 once upon the edge of a caldron and upon a buck, 
 if I prepare the bath for thee?" 
 
 "I will show thee," said he. 
 
 Then she sent unto Gronw, and bade him lie in 
 ambush on the hill which is called Bryn Kyvergyr, 
 on the bank of the River Cynvael. She caused also 
 to be collected all the goats that were in the Can- 
 trev, and had them brought to the other side of 
 the river, opposite Bryn Kyvergyr. 
 
 On the next day she spoke to her husband thus : 
 "Lord," said she, "I have caused the roof and the 
 bath to be prepared, and lo ! they are ready." 
 
 "Well," said Llew, "we will go gladly to look 
 at them." 
 
 So the next day they came and looked at the 
 bath. "Wilt thou go into the bath, lord?" said 
 she* 
 
 "Willingly will I go in," he replied. So into the 
 bath he went, and he anointed himself. 
 
 "Lord," said she, "behold the animals which 
 thou didst speak of as being called bucks." 
 
 "Well," said he, "cause one of them to be caught 
 and brought here." So a buck was caught and 
 brought to the bath. Then Llew Llaw rose out of 
 the bath, and he placed one foot on the edge of 
 the bath, and the other on the buck's back. 
 
 Thereupon Gronw rose up from the hill which 
 
 299
 
 Udonfcer Stories 
 
 is called Bryn Cyvergyr, and he rested on one 
 knee, and he flung the poisoned dart, and struck 
 Llaw on the side, so that the shaft started out, but 
 the head of the dart remained in. Then he flew up 
 in the form of an eagle, and gave a fearful scream; 
 and thereafter was he no more seen. 
 
 The next day Gronw arose and took possession 
 of Ardudwy. And after he had overcome the land, 
 he ruled over it, so that Ardudwy and Penllyn 
 were both under his sway. 
 
 When these tidings reached Math, the son of 
 Mathonwy, great heaviness and grief came upon 
 him, and even much more upon Gwydion than 
 upon him. "Lord," said Gwydion, "I shall never 
 rest until I have tidings of my nephew." 
 
 "Verily," said Math, "may Heaven be thy 
 strength." 
 
 Then Gwydion set forth, and began to go for- 
 ward in search of Llew Llaw Gyffes. And he went 
 through Gwynedd and Powys to the confines, and 
 then on into Arvon, and there he came to the 
 house of a vassal in Maenawr Penardd. And he 
 alighted at the house, and stayed there that night. 
 And anon the man of the house and his household 
 came in, and last of all there came the swineherd. 
 Said the man of the house to the swineherd, "Well, 
 youth, hath thy sow come in to-night?" 
 
 "She hath," said he, "and is this instant returned 
 to the pigs." 
 
 "Where doth this sow go?" said Gwydion. 
 
 300
 
 fftom tbe 
 
 "Every day, when the sty is opened, she goeth 
 forth, and none can catch sight of her, neither is 
 it known whither she goeth any more than if she 
 sank into the earth." 
 
 "Wilt thou grant unto me," said Gwydion, "not 
 to open the sty to-morrow until I am beside the 
 sty with thee?" 
 
 "This will I do right gladly," he answered. 
 
 Then they went to rest. As soon as the swine- 
 herd saw the light of day, he awoke Gwydion; and 
 Gwydion arose and dressed himself, and went with 
 the swineherd, and stood beside the sty. Then the 
 swineherd opened the sty; and as soon as he 
 opened it, behold the sow leaped forth, and set off 
 with great speed; and Gwydion followed her. She 
 went against the course of a river, and made for a 
 brook, which is now called Nant y Llew; and there 
 she halted, and began feeding under a tree. As 
 Gwydion came under the tree and looked upward, 
 he beheld on the top of the tree an eagle. And it 
 seemed to him that the eagle was Llew. Then he 
 sang an Englyn: 
 
 "Oak that grows between the two banks; 
 Darkened is the sky and hill ! 
 Shall I not tell him by my wounds, 
 That this is Llew?" 
 
 Upon this the eagle came down until he reached 
 the centre of the tree. And Gwydion sang another 
 Englyn : 
 
 301
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 "Oak that grows in upland ground, 
 Is it not wetted by the rain? Has it not been 
 
 drenched 
 
 By ninescore tempests? 
 It bears in its branches Llew Llaw Gyffes !" 
 
 Then the eagle came down until he was on the 
 lowest branch of the tree, and thereupon this En- 
 glyn did Gwydion sing: 
 
 "Oak that grows beneath the steep; 
 Stately and majestic is its aspect ! 
 Shall I not speak it? 
 That Llaw will come to my lap ?" 
 
 At this the eagle came down and sat upon 
 Gwydion's knee. And Gwydion struck him with 
 his magic wand, so that he returned to his own 
 form, and behold it was Llew Llaw Gyffes. No 
 one ever saw a more piteous sight, for he was noth- 
 ing but skin and bone. 
 
 Then he arose and went unto Caer Dathyl, and 
 there were brought unto him good physicians that 
 were in Gwynedd, and before the end of the year 
 he was quite healed. 
 
 "Lord," said he unto Math, the son of Ma- 
 thonwy, "it is full time now that I have retribution 
 of him by whom I have suffered all this woe." 
 
 "Truly," said Math, "he will never be able to 
 maintain himself in the possession of that which is 
 thy right." 
 
 302
 
 Jftom tbe fl&abinoafon 
 
 "Well," said Llew, "the sooner I have my right, 
 the better shall I be pleased." 
 
 Then they called together the whole of Gwyn- 
 edd, and set forth to Ardudwy. And Gwydion 
 went on before, and proceeded to Mur y Castell. 
 And when Blodeuwedd heard that he was coming, 
 she was afraid and she took her maidens with her, 
 and fled to the mountain. And they passed 
 through the River Cynvael, and went towards a 
 court that there was upon the mountain; and 
 through fear they could not proceed except with 
 their faces looking backwards, so that unawares 
 they fell into the lake. And they were all drowned 
 except Blodeuwedd herself; and her Gwydion over- 
 took. 
 
 And Gwydion said unto her, "I will not slay 
 thee; but I will do unto thee worse than that; for 
 I will turn thee into a bird. And because of the 
 shame thou hast done unto Llew Llaw Gyffes,thou 
 shalt never show thy face in the light of day hence- 
 forth ; and that through fear of all the other birds. 
 For it shall be their nature to attack thee, and to 
 chase thee from wheresoever they may find thee. 
 And thou shalt not lose thy name, but shalt be 
 always called Blodeuwedd." 
 
 Now Blodeuwedd is the name of an owl in the 
 language of this present time; and for this reason 
 is the owl hateful unto all birds. 
 
 Then Gronw Pebyr withdrew unto Penllyn, and 
 he despatched thence an embassy. And the mes- 
 
 33
 
 IKRonfcer Stories 
 
 sengers he sent asked Llew Llaw Gyffes if he 
 would take land, or domain, or gold, or silver, for 
 the injury he had received. 
 
 "I will not, by my confession to Heaven," said 
 he. "Behold this is the least that I will accept 
 from him : that he come to the spot where I was 
 when he wounded me with the dart, and that I 
 stand where he did, and that with a dart I take my 
 aim at him. And this is the very least that I will 
 accept." 
 
 When this was told unto Gronw Pebyr, he said, 
 "Verily, is it needful for me to do thus ? My faith- 
 ful warriors, and my household, and my foster- 
 brothers, is there riot one among you who will 
 stand the blow in my stead?" 
 
 "There is not verily," answered they. And be- 
 cause of their refusal to suffer one stroke for their 
 lord, they are called the third disloyal tribe even 
 unto this day. 
 
 "Well," said he, "I will meet it." 
 
 Then they two went forth to the banks of the 
 River Cynvael; and Gronw stood in the place 
 where Llew Llaw Gyffes was when he struck him, 
 and Llew in the place where Gronw was. Then 
 said Gronw Pebyr unto Llew, "Since it was 
 through the wiles of a woman that I did unto thee 
 as I have done, I adjure thee by Heaven to let me 
 place between me and the blow the slab thou seest 
 yonder on the river's bank." 
 
 "Verily," said Llew, "I will not refuse thee this." 
 
 304
 
 Jftom tbe n&abinoaion 
 
 "Ah," said he, "may Heaven reward thee for this 
 favor. 
 
 So Gronw took the slab, and placed it between 
 him and the blow. 
 
 Then Llew flung the dart at him, and it pierced 
 the slab, and went through Gronw likewise, so that 
 it pierced through his back. And thus was Gronw 
 Pebyr slain. And there, it is said, may still be 
 seen the slab on the bank of the River Cynvael in 
 Ardudwy, having the hole through it. And there- 
 fore is it even now called Llech Gronw. 
 
 Then a second time did Llew Llaw Gyffes take 
 possession of the land, and prosperously did he 
 govern it. And, as the story relates, he was lord 
 after this over Gwynedd as long as he lived. 
 
 This story in the original is called "Math the Son of 
 Mathonwy." It is a genuine wondertale of the kind so 
 popular with the early Welsh people. It shows a delicate 
 fancy, the transforming of flowers Into a woman, but it 
 seems a little surprising that they did not give to a woman 
 with so sweet an origin a sweeter and lovelier nature. 
 
 Qwydion was a favorite of the Welsh poets. He was 
 a famous enchanter and learnt the magic arts from Math, 
 who excelled all the enchanters of Welsh fiction except, 
 perhaps, the mighty Merlin and his own pupil Gwydion. 
 The story of Blodeuwedd, "the fair Flower-aspect," has 
 also been a popular theme with the poets. The story 
 here given is largely abridged from the original, the por- 
 tion omitted being of less Interest than that which is 
 given. 
 
 305
 
 N the days of King Arthur, Madawc, the 
 son of Maredudd, ruled Powys, from 
 Porfoed to Gwauan in Arwystli. And 
 at that time he had a brother lorwerth. Now 
 lorwerth had great sorrow and heaviness because 
 of the honor and power that his brother enjoyed, 
 and which he shared not. So he sought his fellows 
 and his foster-brothers, and took counsel with 
 them what he should do in this matter. And they 
 resolved to despatch some of their number to go 
 and seek a maintenance for him. Then Madawc 
 offered him to become master of the household, 
 and to have horses and arms and honor, and to 
 fare like as himself. But this lorwerth refused. 
 
 And upon a time lorwerth made an inroad into 
 Loegria, slaying the inhabitants, burning their 
 houses, and carrying them away as prisoners. 
 Then Madawc took counsel with the men of 
 Powys, and they determined to place an hundred 
 men in each of the three Commots of Powys to 
 
 306
 
 fftom tbe n&abinogion 
 
 seek for him. And they spread these men over the 
 plains as far as Nillystwn Trevan. 
 
 Now one of the men who was upon this quest 
 was called Rhonabwy. And Rhonabwy and Kyn- 
 wrig Vrychgoch, a man of Mawddwy, and 
 Cadwgan Vras, a man of Moelvre in Kynlleith, 
 came together to the house of Heilyn Goch. And 
 when they came near to the house, they saw an old 
 hall, whence issued a great smoke; and on enter- 
 ing, they found the floor full of puddles and 
 mounds; and it was difficult to stand thereon, so 
 slippery was it with the mire of cattle. These pud- 
 dles were so deep that a man might go up to his 
 ankles in water and dirt. And there were boughs 
 of holly spread over the floor, from which the cat- 
 tle had browsed the sprigs. 
 
 When they came to the hall of the house, they 
 beheld cells full of dust, and very gloomy, and on 
 one side of the hall an old hag making a fire. And 
 whenever she felt cold, she cast a lapful of chaff 
 upon the fire, and raised such a smoke, that it was 
 scarcely to be borne as it rose up the nostrils. On 
 the other side was a yellow calf-skin on the floor; 
 and a main privilege was it to any one who should 
 get upon that hide. 
 
 When they had sat down, they asked the hag 
 where were the people of the house. But the hag 
 spoke not a word, and only muttered. Thereupon 
 the people of the house entered, a ruddy, clown- 
 ish, curly-headed man, with a burthen of fagots on 
 
 307
 
 Wlon&er Stories 
 
 his back, and a pale, slender woman, also carrying 
 a bundle under her arm. They barely looked at 
 the men, and then kindled a fire with the boughs. 
 And the woman cooked something, and gave them 
 to eat, barley bread, and cheese, and milk and 
 water. 
 
 Soon there arose a storm of wind and rain, so 
 that it was hardly possible to go forth with safety; 
 and being weary with their journey, they laid 
 themselves down, and sought to sleep. When 
 they looked at the couch, it seemed to be made 
 out of a little coarse straw full of dust, with the 
 stems of boughs sticking up through; for the cat- 
 tle had eaten all the straw that was placed at the 
 head and the foot. And upon the bed was 
 stretched an old russet-colored rug, threadbare 
 and ragged; and a coarse sheet, full of slits, was 
 upon the rug; and an ill-stuffed pillow, and a worn- 
 out cover upon the sheet. After much suffering 
 from the discomfort of their couch, a heavy sleep 
 fell on Rhonabwy's companions; but Rhonabwy, 
 not being able either to sleep or to rest, thought 
 he should suffer less if he went to lie upon the yel- 
 low calf-skin that was stretched out on the floor. 
 And there he slept. 
 
 As soon as sleep had come upon his eyes, it 
 seemed to him that he was journeying with his 
 companions across a great plain, and he thought 
 that he went towards Rhyd y Groes on the Severn. 
 As he journeyed, he heard a mighty noise, the like 
 
 308
 
 front tbe flDabinogion 
 
 whereof he had never heard before; and looking 
 behind him, he beheld a youth with yellow curling 
 hair, and with his beard newly trimmed, mounted 
 on a chestnut horse, whereof the legs were gray 
 from the top of the forelegs, and from the bend of 
 the hindlegs downwards. The rider wore a coat 
 of yellow satin sewn with green silk; and on his 
 thigh was a gold-hilted sword, with a scabbard of 
 new leather of Cordova, belted with the skin of the 
 deer, and clasped with gold. And over this was a 
 scarf of yellow satin wrought with green silk, the 
 borders of which were likewise green. The green 
 of the caparison of the horse and of his rider was 
 as green as the leaves of the fir-tree, and the yellow 
 was as yellow as the blossom of the broom. So 
 fierce was the aspect of the knight, that fear seized 
 upon them, and they began to flee; and the knight 
 pursued them. And so it was that when the horse 
 breathed forth, the men became distant from him, 
 and when he drew in his breath, they were drawn 
 near to him, even to the horse's chest. When he 
 had overtaken them, they besought his mercy. 
 
 "You have it gladly," said the knight; "fear 
 nought." 
 
 "Ha, chieftain ! since thou hast mercy upon me, 
 tell me also who thou art," said Rhonabwy. 
 
 "I will not conceal my lineage from thee," he re- 
 plied. "I am Iddawc the son of Mynyo; yet not 
 by my name, but by my nickname, am I best 
 known." 
 
 309
 
 Monger Stories 
 
 "And wilt thou tell us what thy nickname is ?" 
 
 "I will tell you," he replied. "It is Iddawc Cordd 
 Prydain." 
 
 "Ha, chieftain!" said Rhonabwy. "Why art 
 thou called thus?" 
 
 "I will tell thee that also. 1 was one of the mes- 
 sengers between Arthur and Medrawd his nephew, 
 at the battle of Camlan; and I was then a reckless 
 youth, and through my desire for battle I kindled 
 strife between them, and stirred up wrath when 
 I was sent by King Arthur to reason with Me- 
 drawd, and to show him that he was his foster- 
 father and his uncle, and to seek for peace, lest the 
 sons of the Kings of the Island of Britain and of 
 the nobles should be slain. And though King Ar- 
 thur charged me with the fairest sayings he could 
 think of, I uttered unto Medrawd the harshest I 
 could devise. For this reason I am called Iddawc 
 Cordd Prydain, for from this did the battle of Cam- 
 lan ensue. And three nights before the end of the 
 battle of Camlan I left them, and went to the Llech 
 Las in North Britain to do penance; and there I re- 
 mained doing penance seven years, and after that 
 I gained pardon." 
 
 Then they journeyed over the plain as far as 
 the ford of Rhyd y Groes on the Severn. And for 
 a mile around the ford on both sides ^f th~ road 
 they saw tents and encampments, zn<\ heard the 
 clamor of a mighty host. As thev came to the 
 edge of the ford, they beheld King Arthur, sitting 
 
 310
 
 from tbc flDabinooion 
 
 on a flat island below the ford, having Bedwini the 
 bishop on one side of him, and Gwarthegyd the son 
 of Kaw on the other. And a tall, auburn-haired 
 youth stood before him, with his sheathed sword 
 in his hand, and clad in a coat and cap of jet-black 
 satin. His face was white as ivory, his eyebrows 
 black as jet, and such part of his wrist as could be 
 seen between his glove and his sleeve was whiter 
 than the lily, and thicker than a warrior's ankle. 
 
 Then they beheld another troop coming towards 
 the ford; and these from their horses' chests up- 
 wards were whiter than the lily, and below blacker 
 than jet. And they saw one of these knights go be- 
 fore the rest, and spur his horse into the ford in 
 such a manner that the water dashed over Arthur 
 and the bishop and those holding counsel with 
 them, so that they were as wet as if they had been 
 drenched in the river. As he turned the head of 
 his horse, the youth who stood before King Ar- 
 thur struck the horse over the nostrils with his 
 sheathed sword, so that, had it been with the bare 
 blade, it would have been a marvel if the bone had 
 not been wounded as well as the flesh. 
 
 Then the knight drew his sword half out of the 
 scabbard, and asked of him, "Wherefore didst thou 
 strike my horse? Whether was it in insult, or in 
 counsel unto me?" 
 
 "Thou dost indeed lack counsel. What madness 
 caused thee to ride so furiously as to dash the 
 water of the ford over Arthur and the consecrated 
 
 3"
 
 DdonOer Stories 
 
 bishop and their counsellors, so that they were 
 as wet as if they had been dragged out of the 
 river?" 
 
 "As counsel, then, will I take it," said the knight. 
 So he turned his horse's head round towards his 
 army. 
 
 "Iddawc," said Rhonabwy, "who was yonder 
 knight?" 
 
 "The most eloquent and the wisest youth that 
 is in this island, Adaon, the son of Taliesin." 
 
 "Who was the man that struck his horse ?" 
 
 "A youth of froward nature, Elphin, the son of 
 Gwyddno." 
 
 Then Iddawc took Rhonabwy behind him on his 
 horse, and that mighty host moved forward, each 
 troop in its order, towards Cevndigoll. When 
 they came to the middle of the ford of the Severn, 
 Iddawc turned his horse's head, and Rhonabwy 
 looked along the valley of the Severn. And he 
 beheld two fair troops coming towards the ford; 
 one troop of brilliant white, whereof every one of 
 the men had a scarf of white satin with jet-black 
 borders. And the knees and the tops of the 
 shoulders of their horses were jet-black, though 
 they were of a pure white in every other part. And 
 their banners were pure white, with black points 
 to them all. 
 
 "Iddawc," said Rhonabwy, "who are yonder 
 pure white troop?" 
 
 "They are the men of Norway; and March, the 
 
 312
 
 ffrom tbe 
 
 son of Meirchion, is their prince. And he is cousin 
 unto King Arthur." 
 
 And further on he saw a troop whereof each 
 man wore garments of jet-black, with borders of 
 pure white to every scarf; and the tops of the 
 shoulders and the knees of their horses were pure 
 white. And their banners were jet-black with pure 
 white at the point of each. 
 
 "Iddawc," said Rhonabwy, "who are the jet- 
 black troop yonder?" 
 
 "They are the men of Denmark; and Edeyrn, 
 the son of Nudd, is their prince." 
 
 When they had overtaken the host, King Ar- 
 thur and his army dismounted below Caer Badou, 
 and he perceived that he and Iddawc journeyed 
 the same road as the King. After they had dis- 
 mounted, he heard a great tumult and confusion 
 amongst the host; and such as were then at the 
 flanks turned to the centre, and such as had been 
 in the centre moved to the flanks. Then, behold, 
 he saw a knight coming, clad, both he and his 
 horse, in mail, of which the rings were whiter than 
 the whitest lily, and the rivets redder than the 
 ruddiest blood. And he rode amongst the host. 
 
 Thereupon they heard a call made for Kadwr, 
 Earl of Cornwall; and behold he arose, with the 
 sword of Arthur in his hand. And upon the sword 
 were the figures of two serpents in gold. And 
 when the sword was drawn from its scabbard, two 
 flames of fire seemed to burst forth from the jaws 
 
 313
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 of the serpents, and so wonderful was the sword 
 that it was hard for any one to look upon it. At 
 the sight the host became still, and the tumult 
 ceased, and the earl returned to the tent. 
 
 "Iddawc," said Rhonabwy, "who is the man who 
 bore the sword of Arthur ?" 
 
 "Kadwr, the Earl of Cornwall," he replied, 
 "whose duty it is to arm the King on the days of 
 battle." 
 
 Then they heard a call made for Eirynwych Am- 
 heibyn, Arthur's servant, a red, rough, ill-favored 
 man, having red whiskers with bristly hairs. And 
 behold he came upon a tall red horse, with the 
 mane parted on each side, and on the horse's back 
 a large and beautiful sumter pack. And the youth 
 dismounted before King Arthur, and then drew a 
 golden chair out of the pack, and a carpet of 
 diapered satin. He spread the carpet before the 
 King, and there was an apple of ruddy gold at 
 each corner thereof, anil he placed the chair upon 
 the carpet. And so large was the chair, that three 
 armed warriors might have sat therein. The name 
 of the carpet was Gwenn; and it was one of its 
 properties that whoever was upon it no one could 
 see him, yet he could see every one. 
 
 And Arthur sat within the carpet, and Owain 
 the son of Urien was standing before him. 
 "Owain," said Arthur, "wilt thou play chess?" 
 
 "I will, lord," replied Owain. 
 
 So the red youth brought the chess for Arthur
 
 Jftom tbc flDabinofiton 
 
 and Owain; golden pieces and a board of silver. 
 And they began to play. 
 
 Now while they were thus playing, and when 
 they were best amused with their game, behold 
 they saw a white tent with a red canopy, and the 
 figure of a jet-black serpent on the top of the tent, 
 and red glaring venomous eyes in the head of the 
 serpent, and a red flaming tongue. And there 
 came a young page with yellow curling hair, and 
 blue eyes, and a newly-springing beard, wearing a 
 coat and a surcoat of yellow satin, and hose of thin 
 greenish-yellow cloth upon his feet, and over his 
 hose were shoes of parti-colored leather, fastened 
 at the insteps with golden clasps. And he bore 
 a heavy three-edged sword with a golden hilt, in 
 a scabbard of black leather tipped with fine gold. 
 And he came to the place where the emperor and 
 Owain were playing at chess. 
 
 The youth saluted Owain; and Owain marvelled 
 that the youth should salute him, and should not 
 have saluted King Arthur. Now Arthur knew 
 what was in Owain's thought, and he said to 
 Owain, "Marvel not that the youth salutes thee 
 now, for he saluted me erewhile; and it is unto thee 
 that his errand is." 
 
 Then said the youth unto Owain, "Lord, is it 
 with thy leave that the young pages and attend- 
 ants of the King harass and torment and worry 
 thy ravens? If it be not with thy leave, cause the 
 King to forbid them." 
 
 315
 
 TOonfcer Stories 
 
 "Lord," said Owain, "thou hearest what the 
 youth says: if it seem good to thee, forbid them 
 from my ravens." 
 
 "Play thy game," said the King. Then the 
 youth returned to the tent. 
 
 That game they finished, and another one they 
 began, and, when they were in the midst of the 
 game, behold, a ruddy young man with auburn 
 curling hair and large eyes, well-grown, and hav- 
 ing his beard new-shorn, came forth from a bright 
 yellow tent upon the summit of which was the fig- 
 ure of a bright red lion. He was clad in a coat of 
 yellow satin, falling as low as the small of his leg, 
 and embroidered with threads of red silk. On his 
 feet were hose of fine white buckram; and buskins 
 of black leather were over his hose, whereon were 
 golden clasps. In his hand was a huge, heavy, 
 three-edged sword, with a scabbard of red deer- 
 hide, tipped with gold. 
 
 As he came to the place where Arthur and 
 Owain were playing at chess, he saluted Owain. 
 And Owain was again troubled at his salutation; 
 but Arthur minded it no more than before. Then 
 the youth said unto Owain, "Is it not against thy 
 will that the attendants of the King harass thy rav- 
 ens, killing some, and worrying others? If it be 
 against thy will, beseech him to forbid them." 
 
 "Lord," said Owain to King Arthur, "forbid 
 thy men, if it seem good to thee." 
 
 316
 
 ffrom tbe 
 
 "Play thy game," said the King. And the youtK 
 returned to the tent. 
 
 Soon that game was ended, and another one be- 
 gun. As they were beginning the first move of 
 the game, they beheld at a small distance from 
 them a tent speckled with yellow, and with the fig- 
 ure of an eagle of gold upon it, and a precious 
 stone on the eagle's head. And coming out of the 
 tent they saw a youth with thick yellow hair upon 
 his head, fair and comely, and a scarf of blue satin 
 upon him, and a brooch of gold in the scarf upon 
 his right shoulder as large as a warrior's middle 
 finger. Upon his feet were hose of fine Totness, 
 and shoes of parti-colored leather, clasped with 
 gold; and the youth was of noble bearing, fair of 
 face, with ruddy cheeks and large hawk's eyes. In 
 the hand of the youth was a large lance, speckled 
 yellow, with a newly sharpened head; and upon 
 the lance a banner was displayed. 
 
 Fiercely angry, and with rapid pace, the youth 
 came to the place where King Arthur was playing 
 at chess with Owain. Thereupon he saluted 
 Owain, and told him that his ravens had been 
 killed, the chief part of them, and that such of them 
 as were not slain were so wounded and bruised, 
 that not one of them could raise its wings a single 
 fathom above the earth. 
 
 "Lord," said Owain to the King, "forbid thy 
 men." 
 
 "Play," said the King, "if it please thee." 
 
 317
 
 Member Stories 
 
 Then Owain said to the youth, "Go back, and 
 wherever thou findest the strife at the thickest, 
 there lift up the banner, and let come what Heaven 
 pleases." 
 
 So the youth returned to the place where the 
 strife bore hardest upon the ravens, and he lifted 
 up the banner; and as he did so they all rose up in 
 the air, fierce and wrathful, clapping their wings 
 in the wind, and shaking off the weariness that 
 was upon them. And recovering their energy and 
 courage, furiously and with exultation did they, 
 with one sweep, descend upon the heads of the 
 men who had erewhile caused them anger and pain 
 and damage; and they seized some by the heads 
 and others by the eyes, and some by the ears and 
 others by the arms, and carried them up into the 
 air; and in the air there was a mighty tumult with 
 the flapping of the wings of the triumphant ravens, 
 and with their croaking; and there was another 
 mighty tumult with the groaning of the men that 
 were being torn and wounded, and some of whom 
 were slain. 
 
 King Arthur and Owain marvelled at the tumult 
 as they played at chess; and, looking, they per- 
 ceived a knight upon a dun-colored horse com- 
 ing towards them. And marvelous was the hue 
 of the horse. His right shoulder was bright red, 
 and from the top of his legs to the centre of his 
 hoof was bright yellow; and both the knight and 
 his horse were fully equipped with heavy foreign 
 
 318
 
 jftom tbe fl&aMnoaion 
 
 armor. The clothing of the horse from the front 
 opening upwards was of bright yellow sendal. A 
 large gold-hilted one-edged sword had the youth 
 upon his thigh, in a scabbard of light-blue, tipped 
 with Spanish laton. The belt of the sword was of 
 dark-green leather with golden slides, and a clasp 
 of ivory upon it, and a buckle of jet-black upon 
 the clasp. A helmet of gold was on the head of 
 the knight, set with precious stones of great vir- 
 tue; and at the top of the helmet was the image of 
 a flame-colored leopard with two ruby-red stones 
 in its head, so that it was astounding for a warrior, 
 however stout his heart, to look at the face of the 
 leopard, much more at the face of the knight. He 
 had in his hand a blue-shafted lance; but from the 
 haft to the point it was stained crimson-red with 
 the blood of the ravens and their plumage. 
 
 The knight came to the place where Arthur and 
 Owain were seated at chess; and they saw that he 
 was harassed and vexed and weary as he came 
 towards them. The youth saluted King Arthur, 
 and told him that the ravens of Owain were slay- 
 ing his young men and attendants. And King Ar- 
 thur looked at Owain and said, "Forbid thy rav- 
 ens." 
 
 "Lord," answered Owain, "play thy game." 
 And they played. And the knight returned back 
 towards the strife, and the ravens were not for- 
 bidden any more than before. 
 
 And when they had played a while, they heard
 
 "Cdonfcer Stories 
 
 a mighty tumult, and a wailing of men, and a 
 croaking of ravens, as they carried the men in 
 their strength into the air, and, tearing them be- 
 twixt them, let them fall piecemeal to the earth. 
 And during the tumult they saw a knight coming 
 towards them, on a light-gray horse, and the left 
 foreleg of the horse was jet-black to the centre 
 of his hoof. And the knight and the horse were 
 fully accoutred with huge heavy blue armor; and 
 a robe of honor of yellow diapered satin was upon 
 the knight, and the borders of the robe were blue. 
 And the housings of the horse were jet-black, with 
 borders of bright yellow. And on the thigh of 
 the youth was a sword, long and three-edged and 
 heavy. And the scabbard was of red cut leather, 
 and the belt of new red deerskin, having upon it 
 many golden slides, and a buckle of the bone of 
 the sea-horse, the tongue of which was jet-black. 
 A golden helmet was upon the head of the knight, 
 wherein were set sapphire-stones of great virtue; 
 and at the top of the helmet was the figure of a 
 flame-colored lion, with a fiery-red tongue, issuing 
 above a foot from his mouth, and with venomous 
 eyes, crimson-red, in his head. 
 
 And the knight came, bearing in his hand a 
 thick ashen lance, the head whereof, which had 
 been newly steeped in blood, was overlaid with sil- 
 ver. And the youth saluted the King, saying, 
 "Lord, carest thou not for the slaying of thy pages, 
 and thy young men, and the sons of the nobles of 
 
 320
 
 Jtom tbe HDamnogion 
 
 the Island of Britain, whereby it will be difficult 
 to defend this island from henceforward forever?" 
 
 "Owain," said King Arthur, "forbid thy rav- 
 ens." 
 
 "Play thy game, lord," Owain replied. 
 
 So they finished the game, and began another; 
 and as they were finishing that game, lo, they 
 heard a great tumult, and a clamor of armed men, 
 and a croaking of ravens, and a flapping of wings 
 in the air, as they flung down the armor entire to 
 the ground, and the men and the horses piecemeal. 
 
 Then they saw coming towards them a knight 
 on a lofty-headed piebald horse. The left shoulder 
 of the horse was of bright red, and its right leg, 
 from the chest to the hollow of the hoof, was pure 
 white. And the knight and horse were equipped 
 with arms of speckled yellow, variegated with 
 Spanish laton ; and there was a robe of honor upon 
 him and upon his horse, divided in two parts, white 
 and black; and the borders of the robe of honor 
 were of golden purple. And above the robe he 
 wore a sword, three-edged and bright, with a 
 golden hilt; and the belt of the sword was of yel- 
 low goldwork, having a clasp upon it of the eyelid 
 of a black sea-horse, and a tongue of yellow gold 
 to the clasp. Upon the head of the knight was a 
 bright helmet of yellow laton, with sparkling 
 stones of crystal in it, and at the crest of the helmet 
 was the figure of a griffin, with a stone of many 
 virtues in its head. And he had an ashen spear 
 
 321
 
 "Cdonfcer Stories 
 
 in his hand, with a round shaft, colored with azure- 
 blue. And the head of the spear was newly stained 
 with blood, and was overlaid with fine silver. 
 
 In great wrath came the knight to the place 
 where King Arthur was; and he told him that the 
 ravens had slain his household, and the sons of 
 the chief men of his island, and he besought him 
 to cause Owain to forbid his ravens. Then King 
 Arthur besought Owain to forbid them; and he 
 took the golden chessmen that were upon the 
 board, and crushed them until they became as dust. 
 At this Owain ordered Gwres, the son of Rheged, 
 to lower his banner. So it was lowered, and all 
 was peace. 
 
 Then Rhonabwy inquired of Iddawc who were 
 the first three men that came to Owain to tell him 
 his ravens were being slain. 
 
 "They were men," said Iddawc, "who grieved 
 that Owain should suffer loss; his fellow-chieftains 
 and companions;" and he gave the names of the 
 men. 
 
 "Who," said Rhonabwy, "were the last three 
 men who came to Arthur, and told him that the 
 ravens were slaughtering his men?" 
 
 "The best of men," said Idawc, "and the bravest, 
 and who would grieve exceedingly that Arthur 
 should have damage in aught;" and these he also 
 named. 
 
 And with that, behold four and twenty knights 
 came from Osla Gyllellvawr to crave a truce of Ar- 
 
 322
 
 jftom tbe fl&abittoston 
 
 thur for a fortnight and a month. And King Ar- 
 thur arose and went to take counsel with them. 
 And he came to where a tall auburn, curly-headed 
 man was a little way off, and there he assembled 
 his counsellors, all the wise men of his kingdom. 
 
 "Iddawc," inquired Rhonabwy, "who was the 
 auburn-haired man to whom they came just now?" 
 
 "Rhun the son of Maelgwn Gwynedd, a man 
 whose prerogative it is that he may join in counsel 
 with all." 
 
 "And wherefore did they admit into counsel with 
 men of such dignity, a stripling so young as Kady- 
 riaith the son of Saidi?" 
 
 "Because there is not throughout Britain a man 
 better skilled in counsel than he." 
 
 Thereupon, behold, bards came and recited 
 verses before Arthur, and no man understood 
 those verses but Kadyriaith only, save that they 
 were in King Arthur's praise. 
 
 Then there came four and twenty asses, with 
 their burdens of gold and of silver, and a tired, 
 wayworn man with each of them, bringing tribute 
 to Arthur from the Islands of Greece. Then 
 Kadyriaith the son of Saidi besought that a truce 
 might be granted to Osla Gyllellvawr for the space 
 of a fortnight and a month, and that the asses and 
 the burdens they carried might be given to the 
 bards as the reward for their stay, and that their 
 verse might be recompensed during the time of 
 the truce. And thus it was settled. 
 
 323
 
 Monger Storie0 
 
 "Rhonabwy," said Iddawc, "would it not be 
 wrong, think you, to forbid a youth who gave 
 counsel so wise as this from coming to the coun- 
 cils of his lord ?" 
 
 Then Sir Kay arose, and he said, "Whosoever 
 will follow King Arthur, let him be with him to- 
 night in Cornwall; and whosoever will not, let him 
 be opposed to the King even during the truce." 
 
 And through the greatness of the tumult that 
 ensued, Rhonabwy awoke. And when he awoke 
 he saw that he was upon the yellow calf-skin, hav- 
 ing slept three nights and three days. 
 
 And this tale is called the Dream of Rhonabwy. 
 And this is the reason that no one knows the dream 
 without a book, neither bard nor gifted seer, be- 
 cause of the various colors that were upon the 
 horses, and the many wondrous colors of the arms 
 and of the panoply, and of the precious scarfs, and 
 of the virtue-bearing stones. 
 
 This is one of the least interesting stories of the series, 
 but it contains some exquisite word painting and I have 
 included it mainly for the charm of these descriptions. 
 The reader will note the sense of color and of rich orna- 
 mentation in the various descriptions, showing the taste 
 of the early Welsh people for bright coloring, costly 
 ornaments, and display in dress. 
 
 324
 
 STlje >to*p of Salicseti 
 
 ANY years ago King Gwy'ddno Garanhir 
 was sovereign of a territory bordering 
 on the sea. Upon the shore of the 
 sea near to his castle he had a weir; and in that 
 weir he caught as many fish as were worth an 
 hundred pounds a year. It was the custom to draw 
 the weir every May evening of each year. 
 
 Now King Gwyddno had an only son named El- 
 pin, and he was a hapless and careless youth, and 
 knew not how to supply even his daily needs. This 
 grieved his father sorely, for he thought his son 
 must have been born in an evil hour and would 
 never amount to anything. By the advice of his 
 council his father granted him the drawing of the 
 weir that year to see if good luck would ever befall 
 him, and also to give him the chance to earn some- 
 thing wherewith to begin the world. It was on 
 the last day of April that this was decided. 
 
 So in the evening Elpin went to look at the weir, 
 and behold there was nothing in it but a leathern 
 
 325
 
 TOlonfcer Stories 
 
 bag that hung upon a pole of the weir. Seeing 
 this the river warden said unto Elpin, "All thy ill- 
 luck aforetime was as nothing compared with this; 
 for now I fear that thou hast destroyed the virtues 
 of the weir which always yielded the value of an 
 hundred pounds every May eve; and to-night there 
 is nothing in it but this leathern bag." 
 
 "Well," said Elpin, "there may be the value of 
 a hundred pounds in the bag for all you know." 
 
 So they took up the leathern bag, and he who 
 opened it saw therein the forehead of an infant 
 child, the fairest that he had ever seen. As he 
 looked upon the child he exclaimed taliesin, which 
 is the Welsh word for "Behold a radiant brow." 
 
 "Taliesin shall he be called," said Elpin. So 
 saying he lifted the boy in his arms, and lament- 
 ing his bad luck, placed the boy before him on 
 his horse. Then he made his horse amble gently 
 and thus carried the infant as softly as if it had been 
 sitting in the easiest chair in the world. 
 
 And as they rode the boy spoke and sang a hymn 
 of praise and consolation to Elpin, and this was 
 the song which he sang : 
 
 "Fair Elpin, cease to lament! 
 Never in Gwyddno's weir 
 Was there such good luck as this night. 
 Being too sad will not avail; 
 Better to trust in God than to forebode ill; 
 Weak and small as I am 
 
 326
 
 fftom tbe flDabinofiion 
 
 On the foaming beach of the ocean 
 In the days of trouble, I shall be 
 Of more service to thee than three hundred 
 salmon." 
 
 This was the first poem that Taliesin had ever 
 sung, and he did it to console Elpin in his grief that 
 the produce of the weir was lost, and what was 
 even worse than that, that all the world would con- 
 sider that it was therefore his fault and ill-luck. 
 
 Amazed at hearing this, Elpin spoke to the boy 
 and asked him whether he was human or a spirit. 
 In answer to this question, Taliesin sang, and this 
 is the song that he sang: 
 
 "I have been formed a comely person; 
 Although I am but little, I am highly gifted; 
 Into a dark leathern bag was I thrown, 
 And on a boundless sea was I sent adrift. 
 From seas and from mountains 
 God brings wealth to the fortunate man." 
 
 Soon Elpin came to the house of his father, 
 Gwyddno, bringing Taliesin with him. His father 
 asked him whether he had had a good haul of fish 
 in the weir, to which Elpin replied that he had 
 caught that which was better than fish. 
 
 "What is that?" his father asked. 
 
 "A bard," replied Elpin. 
 
 327
 
 "Cdonfcer Stories 
 
 "Alas! what will a bard profit thee?" said his 
 father. 
 
 To which Taliesin himself replied, "He will 
 profit him more than the weir ever profited thee." 
 Then his father, Gwyddno, turned to the child and 
 said, "Art thou able to speak, and thou so little?" 
 
 And Taliesin answered him, "I am better able to 
 speak than thou art to question me." 
 
 "Let me hear what thou canst say," quoth 
 Gwyddno. 
 
 In reply to this Taliesin sang the following : 
 
 "Three times have I been born, I know by medita- 
 tion; 
 
 All the sciences in the world are collected in my 
 breast, 
 
 For I know what has been, and what hereafter will 
 occur." 
 
 At this Gwyddno was much amazed and knew 
 not what to say or think. 
 
 Then Elpin sought his wife and gave to her the 
 boy, and she received him tenderly and lovingly. 
 And from that day forward good luck came to El- 
 pin, and he increased in riches more and more, day 
 after day, and in love and favor with the King and 
 his people. And there Taliesin abode until he was 
 thirteen years old. 
 
 Now it chanced that when Taliesin was thirteen 
 years old that Elpin went by a Christmas invitation 
 
 328
 
 jfrom tbe HDabinoaton 
 
 to visit his uncle, Maelgwyn Gwynedd, who held 
 open court on Christmas week in one of his cas- 
 tles. And there were present all the great men of 
 the realm, lords of both degrees, spiritual and tem- 
 poral, with a vast throng of knights and squires. 
 
 At the feast one of the lords arose and said, "Is 
 there in the whole world so great a king as Mael- 
 gwyn, or one upon whom heaven has bestowed so 
 many gifts; form, and beauty, and meekness, and 
 strength, besides all the powers of the soul?" 
 
 And the others said that Heaven had given one 
 gift that exceeded all the others, and that was the 
 beauty and grace, and the wisdom and modesty of 
 his queen, whose virtues surpassed those of all 
 the ladies and noble maidens throughout the whole 
 kingdom. 
 
 And with this they put questions to one an- 
 other, as Who had braver men ? Who had fairer 
 or swifter horses or greyhounds? Who had more 
 skillful or wiser bards than Maelgwyn. 
 
 Now at that time the bards were in great favor 
 with the exalted of the kingdom; and none per- 
 formed the office of those who are now called her- 
 alds, unless they were learned men, not only ex- 
 pert in the service of kings and princes, but studi- 
 ous and well versed in the lineage and arms and 
 exploits of princes and kings, and in discussions 
 concerning foreign kingdoms and the ancient 
 things of this kingdom, and chiefly of the annals of 
 the first nobles; and who also were prepared al- 
 
 329
 
 Udcmfcer Stories 
 
 ways to give their answers in various languages- 
 Latin, French, Welsh and English. And together 
 with this they were great chroniclers and record- 
 ers, and skillful in framing verses and in making 
 englyns in every one of these languages. Now of 
 these bards there were at that feast within the pal- 
 ace of Maelgwyn as many as four and twenty, and 
 chief among them all was one named Heinin 
 Vardd. 
 
 When all had made an end of praising the king 
 and his gifts, it befell that Elpin spoke in this wise, 
 "Of a truth, none but a king may vie with a 
 king; but were my uncle not a king, I would say 
 that my wife was as virtuous as any lady in the 
 kingdom, and that I have a bard who is more skill- 
 ful than all the king's bards." 
 
 At this the bards were much displeased and in 
 a short time some of them went to the king and 
 told him all the boastings of Elpin; and the king 
 was wroth and ordered him to be thrown into a 
 strong prison, until he might show the truth as to 
 the virtues of his wife and the wisdom of his bard. 
 
 When Elpin had been put in a tower of the cas- 
 tle, with a thick chain about his feet, (it is said that 
 it was a silver chain, because he was of royal 
 blood), the king sent his son Rhun to inquire into 
 the virtues of Elpin's wife. Now Rhun was the 
 most graceless man in the world, and there was 
 neither wife nor maiden with whom he held con- 
 
 330
 
 ffvom tbe nDabinoafon 
 
 verse that was not evil spoken of and suffered in 
 reputation. 
 
 While Rhun was going in haste towards Elpin's 
 dwelling, being fully minded to bring disgrace 
 upon his wife, Taliesin told his mistress how that 
 the king had placed his master in prison, and how 
 that Rhun was coming in haste to strive to bring 
 disgrace upon her. Wherefore he advised his mis- 
 tress to array one of the maids of her kitchen in 
 her own apparel, and to diguise herself in the ap- 
 parel of the maid. This the noble lady gladly did; 
 and she loaded the maid's hands with the best rings 
 that she and her husband possessed. 
 
 In this guise Taliesin caused his mistress to have 
 the maiden sit at the board in her place at supper; 
 and thus make her seem to be the mistress and the 
 mistress seem to be the maid. And when in due 
 time they were seated at supper in the manner that 
 has been said, Rhun suddenly arrived at Elpin's 
 dwelling, and was received with apparent joy, for 
 all the servants knew him. And they brought him 
 into the room where they sat at supper, and the 
 maiden who was dressed like the mistress rose up 
 from the table and welcomed him gladly. And 
 then she sat down to supper again and Rhun took 
 a seat beside her. 
 
 Then Rhun began jesting with the maid, who 
 still kept the semblance of her mistress. Now as 
 they ate and drank, the maid became so intoxi- 
 cated that she fell asleep; though it was thought 
 
 331
 
 TJdonfcer Stories 
 
 that it was a powder that Rhun had put into the 
 drink that made her sleep so soundly. Then while 
 she slept Rhun cut from her hand her little finger, 
 whereon was the signet ring of Elpin, which he 
 had sent to his wife as a token a short time before. 
 
 Then Rhun returned to the king with the finger 
 and the ring as a proof to show that he had cut 
 it from the hand of the mistress without her awak- 
 ening from her sleep of intoxication. At this the 
 king was greatly rejoiced and he sent for his coun- 
 cillors, to whom he told the story. And he caused 
 Elpin to be brought out of prison, and he showed 
 him the finger and the ring and laughed at him 
 and chided him for his boast. 
 
 But Elpin replied, "With thy leave, mighty king, 
 I cannot deny my ring, for it is known of many; 
 but verily I assert that the finger around which 
 it is was never attached to the hand of my wife; 
 for there are three notable things pertaining to 
 this finger none of which ever belonged to any of 
 my wife's fingers. The first is that it is certainly 
 known to me that this ring would never remain 
 upon her thumb, whereas you can plainly see that 
 it is hard to draw it over the joint of the little finger 
 of the hand whence this was cut; the second thing 
 is, that my wife has never let pass one Saturday 
 since I have known her without paring her nails 
 before going to bed, and you can see fully that the 
 nail of this little finger has not been pared for a 
 month. The third is, truly, that the hand whence 
 
 332
 
 from tbe flDabinoafon 
 
 this finger came was kneading rye-dough within 
 three days before the finger was cut therefrom, 
 and I can assure your highness that my wife has 
 never kneaded rye-dough since she has been my 
 wife." 
 
 The king was mighty wroth with Elpin for so 
 stoutly withstanding him respecting the virtue of 
 his wife; and he ordered him back to his prison, 
 saying that he should not be loosed thence until 
 he had proved the truth of his boast, as well con- 
 cerning the wisdom of his bard as the virtues of 
 his wife. 
 
 In the meantime his wife and Taliesen remained 
 at Elpin's dwelling. Taliesin had shown her how 
 Elpin was in prison because of them; but he bade 
 her not to grieve for that he would go to Mael- 
 gwyn's court to free his master. Then she asked 
 him in what manner he would set him free. To 
 which he answered her in a song: 
 
 I Taliesin, chief of bards, 
 With a wise Druid's words 
 Will set kind Elpin free 
 From haughty tyrant's bonds. 
 
 Then Taliesin took leave of his mistress, and 
 came to the court of Maelgwyn whom he found 
 just about sitting down in his hall to dine in royal 
 state, as was the custom in those days for kings 
 and princes to do at every feast. 
 
 333
 
 Member Stories 
 
 As soon as Taliesin entered the hall, he placed 
 himself in a quiet corner near the place where the 
 bards and minstrels were wont to come in doing 
 their service and duty to the king by proclaiming 
 his power and bounty. So when the bards began 
 to sing and proclaim the power of the king, at the 
 moment when they passed the corner where he 
 sat crouching, Taliesin pouted out his lips after 
 them, and played upon his fingers saying, 
 "blerwm, blerwm !" 
 
 They took but little notice of him as they went 
 by, but proceeded forward till they came before 
 the king, unto whom they made their obeisance 
 with their bodies as was their wont, without speak- 
 ing a single word, but pouting out their lips and 
 making mouths at the king, playing "blerwm, 
 blerwm !" upon their lips with their fingers, as they 
 had seen the boy do. 
 
 This sight caused the king to wonder, and to 
 think within himself that the bards were drunk 
 with drinking many liquors. Wherefore he com- 
 manded one of his lords who served at the board, 
 to go to them and desire them to collect their wits 
 and to consider where they stood, and what it was 
 fitting for them to do. This the lord did gladly; 
 but they ceased not their folly any more than be- 
 fore. Whereupon the king sent him a second time, 
 and a third time, requesting them to go forth from 
 the hall. At last the king sent one of his squires 
 to give a blow to the chief of them, named Heinid 
 
 334
 
 ffrom tbe flDabinoaton 
 
 Vardd, and the squire took a broom and struck 
 the chief bard on the head so that he fell back in 
 his seat. 
 
 Then he arose and went on his knees to the king 
 and besought him leave by the king's grace, to 
 show that this their fault was not through want of 
 knowledge, neither through drunkenness, but by 
 the influence of some spirit that was in the hall. 
 And he said, "Methinks it is through the influence 
 of a spirit that sits in the corner yonder in the form 
 of a child." 
 
 Then forthwith the king commanded the squire 
 to fetch the child before him; at which the squire 
 went to the nook where Taliesin sat, and brought 
 him before the king who asked him what he was 
 and whence he came. And in reply to the king, 
 Taliesin said in verse : 
 
 "Primary chief bard am I to Elpin, 
 And my native country is the region of the sum- 
 mer stars; 
 
 I was with my Lord in the highest sphere 
 On the fall of Lucifer into the depths of hell. 
 I have been in Asia with Noah in the ark, 
 I have seen the destruction of Sodom and Go- 
 morrah, 
 
 I was in India when Rome was built, 
 I have now come here to the remnant of Trovia, 
 I have been teacher of all intelligences; 
 I am able to instruct the whole universe." 
 
 335
 
 Member Stories 
 
 When the king and his nobles had heard his song 
 they were full of wonder, for they had never heard 
 the like from a boy so young as he. And when 
 the king knew that he was the bard of Elpin, he 
 bade Heinin, his first and wisest bard, to answer 
 Taliesin and to strive with him. But when the 
 bard came, he could do nothing but play "blerwm" 
 upon his lips; and when the king sent for the 
 others of the four and twenty bards, they all did 
 likewise, and could do no otherwise. Then Mael- 
 gwyn asked the boy Taliesin what was his errand 
 at the court; and he answered in a song: 
 
 "Elpin, the son of Gwydno, 
 Is in the land of Artro 
 Secured by thirteen locks, 
 For praising his instructor; 
 Therefore, I, Taliesin, 
 Chief of the bards of the west, 
 Shall loosen Elpin 
 Out of a golden fetter." 
 
 Then he sang a riddle to which they all listened 
 in wonder : 
 
 "Discover thou what is 
 The strong creature from before the flood, 
 Without flesh, without bones, 
 Without vein, without blood; 
 Without head, without feet; 
 
 336
 
 ut totjen U)C bard came tjc 
 could do nothing but
 
 jftom the flDabmooion 
 
 It will neither be older nor younger 
 Than at the beginning. 
 Behold how the sea whitens 
 When first it comes, 
 When it comes from the south, 
 When it strikes on the coasts. 
 It is in the field, it is in the wood, 
 But the eye cannot perceive it, 
 One Being has prepared it, 
 By a tremendous blast, 
 To wreak vengeance 
 On Maelgwyn Gwynedd." 
 
 While he was thus saying his riddle, there arose 
 a mighty storm of wind, so that the king and all 
 his nobles thought the castle would fall upon their 
 heads. And the king in his fright commanded 
 that they should bring Elpin in haste from his dun- 
 geon, and place him before Taliesin. And when 
 Taliesin saw him chained, he sang a verse, and im- 
 mediately the chains dropped from his limbs. Then 
 they sent for Elpin's wife and when she came be- 
 for the king, at Taliesin's request, she showed the 
 king her hands, and they saw that no fingers were 
 wanting, and that the charge made against her 
 was false. 
 
 Then the king commanded Rhun to come be- 
 fore him to punish him for his false accusation of 
 Elpin's wife; but Taliesin told them how he had 
 been deceived by one of the maids being dressed 
 
 337
 
 TOonftcr Storic0 
 
 like the queen, at which they all laughed at Rhun, 
 who felt ashamed and greatly disgraced. 
 
 In this manner did Taliesin set his master free 
 from prison and protect the good name of his mis- 
 tress and silence the bards so that not one of them 
 dared to say a word. Then Elpin and his wife and 
 the boy Taliesin returned to the court of Gwyddno, 
 where they lived in great happiness. And thus it 
 is seen that, since the bard was worth more to El- 
 pin than a haul of fish, that wisdom is better than 
 wealth. 
 
 Taliesin, literally, the "Radiant Brow," was a Welsh bard 
 of the sixth century. He is the greatest of the ancient 
 Welsh poets, and is called by his countrymen the "Prince 
 of Song." He became bard at King Arthur's court, and 
 was one of the most distinguished in that glorious assem- 
 blage of brave knights and beautiful women. Many poems 
 ascribed to him are preserved among the Welsh people and 
 believed to be genuine productions of his genius. 
 
 The extracts from the songs of Taliesin here given are 
 very brief as compared with the original, but they are full 
 enough to give an idea of their character, and as thus 
 abridged will be more interesting to the young, for whom 
 this work is prepared. Adult readers of the book will be 
 interested in examining the complete poems as found in 
 the edition of the Mabinogion of Lady Charlotte Guest. 
 
 338
 
 
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