transcribed from the 1902 t. fisher unwin edition by david price, email ccx074@pglaf.org the mabinogion translated from the red book of hergest by lady charlotte guest vol. i. london t. fisher unwin 11 paternoster buildings. mxcii introduction. more than half a century ago lady charlotte guest gave _the mabinogion_ to english readers in the form which, probably, will ever most delight them. her transcript of the red book of hergest was not perfect, she found the meaning of many a welsh phrase obscure, but her rendering is generally very accurate; and the celtic tales retain in their new dress much of the charm, which so often evades the translator, of a perfect style formed by generations of narrating. the red book of hergest, from which _the mabinogion_ are taken, is a collection of tales and poems written during the fourteenth century. some of the mabinogion in it have been reconstructed in norman and crusading times, but they contain reminiscences of a more distant period, often but half understood by the later story-teller. among these are "the dream of rhonabwy," "the lady of the fountain," and "peredur the son of evrawc"--the three which happen to come first in the red book. these are christian, but with distant glimpses of celtic heathenism. the adventures are all grouped around arthur and his knights; and a kind of connection is given to the three tales by the presence of owen and his mysterious ravens. others, especially the four mabinogion properly so called and the tale of lludd and llevelys, are far older; they are older than christianity, and older than arthur. in this new edition of lady guest's translation i have put, in the form of footnotes, what appears to me to be a more correct or a more literal rendering of some of the passages of the welsh. this course makes it unnecessary to tamper with the charming translation that has become a classic of the english language. i am very grateful to the principal and fellows of jesus college for access to the red book, to dr j. gwenogvryn evans for permission to use his edition and to lord wimborne (the ivor of lady guest's dedication) for information kindly given. owen edwards. lincoln college, oxford, 1_st_ _march_ 1902. to ivor and merthyr my dear children, infants as you yet 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 "gwyllt walia," in whose beautiful language you are being initiated, and amongst whose free mountains you were born. may you become early imbued with the chivalric and exalted sense of honour, 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. i am, your affectionate mother, c. e. guest. dowlais, 29_th_ _august_ 1838. the lady of the fountain. king arthur {15} was at caerlleon upon usk; and one day he sat in his chamber; and with him were owain the son of urien, and kynon the son of clydno, and kai the son of kyner; and gwenhwyvar and her hand-maidens at needlework by the window. and if it should be said that there was a porter at arthur's palace, there was none. glewlwyd gavaelvawr was there, acting as porter, to welcome guests and strangers, and to receive them with honour, and to inform them of the manners and customs of the court; and to direct those who came to the hall or to the presence chamber, and those who came to take up their lodging. {16} in the centre of the chamber king arthur sat, upon a seat of green rushes, over which was spread a covering of flame-coloured satin; and a cushion of red satin was under his elbow. then arthur spoke, "if i thought you would not disparage me," said he, "i would sleep while i wait for my repast; and you can entertain one another with relating tales, and can obtain a flagon of mead and some meat from kai." and the king went to sleep. and kynon the son of clydno asked kai for that which arthur had promised them. "i too will have the good tale which he promised to me," said kai. "nay," answered kynon, "fairer will it be for thee to fulfil arthur's behest in the first place, and then we will tell thee the best tale that we know." so kai went to the kitchen and to the mead-cellar, and returned, bearing a flagon of mead, and a golden goblet, and a handful of skewers upon which were broiled collops of meat. then they ate the collops and began to drink the mead. "now" said kai, "it is time for you to give me my story." "kynon," said owain, "do thou pay to kai the tale that is his due." "truly," said kynon, "thou art older, and are a better teller of tales, and hast seen more marvellous things than i; do thou therefore pay kai his tale." "begin thyself," quoth owain, "with the best that thou knowest." "i will do so," answered kynon. "i was the only son of my mother and father; and i was exceedingly aspiring, and my daring was very great. i thought there was no enterprise in the world too mighty for me, and after i had achieved all the adventures that were in my own country, {17a} i equipped myself, and set forth to journey through deserts, and distant regions. and at length it chanced that i came to the fairest valley in the world, wherein were trees of equal growth; and a river ran through the valley, and a path was by the side of the river. and i followed the path until mid-day, and continued my journey along the remainder of the valley until the evening; and at the extremity of a plain i came to a large and lustrous castle, at the foot of which was a torrent. and i approached the castle, and there i beheld two youths, with yellow curling hair, each with a frontlet of gold upon his head, and clad in a garment of yellow satin; and they had gold 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 had their shafts of the bone of the whale, and were winged with peacock's feathers. the shafts also had golden heads. and they had daggers with blades of gold, and with hilts of the bone of the whale. and they were shooting their daggers. "and a little way from them, i saw a man {17b} in the prime of life, with his beard newly shorn, clad in a robe and a mantle of yellow satin; and round the top of his mantle was a band of gold lace. on his feet were shoes of variegated leather, fastened by two bosses of gold. when i saw him, i went towards him and saluted him; and such was his courtesy, that he no sooner received my greeting than he returned it. {18a} and he went with me towards the castle. now there were no dwellers in the castle, except those who were in one hall. and there i saw four and twenty damsels, embroidering satin, at a window. and this i tell thee, kai, that {18b} the least fair of them was fairer than the fairest maid thou didst ever behold, in the island of britain; and the least lovely of them was more lovely than gwenhwyvar, the wife of arthur, when she appeared loveliest at the offering, on the day of the nativity, or at the feast of easter. {18c} they rose up at my coming, and six of them took my horse, and divested me of my armour; and six others took my arms, and washed them in a vessel, until 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 others upon me; namely, an under vest and a doublet of fine linen, and a robe, and a surcoat, and a mantle of yellow satin, and a broad gold band upon the mantle. and they placed cushions both beneath and around me, with coverings of red linen. and i sat down. now the six maidens who had taken my horse, unharnessed him, as well as if they had been the best squires in the island of britain. then, behold, they brought bowls of silver wherein was water to wash; and towels of linen, some green and some white; and i washed. and in a little while the man sat down to the table. {19a} and i sat next to him, and below me sat all the maidens, except those who waited on us. and the table was of silver; and the cloths upon the table were of linen. and no vessel was served upon the table that was not either of gold, or of silver, or of buffalo horn. and our meat was brought to us. and verily, kai, i saw there every sort of meat, and every sort of liquor, that i ever saw elsewhere; but the meat and the liquors were better served there, than i ever saw them in any other place. "until the repast was half over, neither the man nor any one of the damsels spoke a single word to me; but when the man perceived that it would be more agreeable to me to converse than to eat any more, he began to enquire of me who i was. i said i was glad to find that there was some one who would discourse with me, and that it was not considered so great a crime at that court, for people to hold converse together. 'chieftain,' said the man, 'we would have talked to thee sooner, but we feared to disturb thee during thy repast. now, however, we will discourse.' then i told the man who i was, and what was the cause of my journey. and said 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 he smiled, and said, 'if i did not fear to distress thee too much, {19b} i would shew thee that which thou seekest.' upon this i became anxious and sorrowful; and when the man perceived it, he said, 'if thou wouldst rather that i should shew thee thy disadvantage, than thine advantage, i will do so. sleep here to-night, and in the morning, arise early, and take the road upwards through the valley, until thou reachest the wood, through which thou camest hither. a little way within the wood, thou wilt meet with a road, branching off to the right; by which thou must proceed, until thou comest to a large sheltered glade, with a mound in the centre. and thou wilt see a black man of great stature, on the top of the mound; he is not smaller in size than two of the men of this world. he has but one foot, and one eye, in the middle of his forehead. and he has a club of iron, and it is certain that there are no two men in the world, who would not find their burden in that club. and he is not a comely man, but on the contrary he is exceedingly ill favoured; and he is the woodward of that wood. and thou wilt see a thousand wild animals, grazing around him. enquire of him the way out of the glade, and he will reply to thee briefly, {20} and will point out the road, by which thou shalt find that which thou art in quest of.' "and long seemed the night to me. and the next morning i arose, and equipped myself, and mounted my horse, and proceeded straight through the valley, to the wood, and i followed the crossroad which the man had pointed out to me, till at length i arrived at the glade. and there was i three times more astonished at the number of wild animals that i beheld, than the man had said i should be. and the black man was there, sitting upon the top of the mound. huge of stature as the man had told me that he was, i found him to exceed by far the description he had given me of him. as for the iron club, which the man had told me was a burden for two men, i am certain, kai, that it would be a heavy weight for four warriors to lift. and this was in the black man's hand. and he only spoke to me in answer to my questions. {21a} then i asked him what power he held over those animals. 'i will shew thee, little man,' said he. 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. and he looked at them, and bade them go and feed. and they bowed their heads, and did him homage, as vassals to their lord. "then the black man said to me, 'seest thou now, little man, what power i hold over these animals?' then i enquired of him the way; and he became very rough in his manner to me; however he asked me whither i would go. and when i had told him who i was, and what i sought, he directed me. 'take,' said he, 'that path that leads towards the head of the glade, and ascend the wooded steep, until thou comest to its summit; and there thou wilt find an open space, like to a large valley, and in the midst of it a tall tree, whose branches are greener than the greenest pine trees. under this tree is a fountain, and by the side of the fountain, a marble slab, and on the marble slab a silver bowl, attached by a chain of silver, so that it may not be carried away. {21b} take the bowl, and throw a bowlful of water upon the slab, and thou wilt hear a mighty peal of thunder; so that thou wilt think that heaven and earth are trembling with its fury. with the thunder there will come a shower so severe, that it will be scarcely possible for thee to endure it and live. and the shower will be of hailstones. and after the shower, the weather will become fair; but every leaf that was upon the tree will have been carried away by the shower. then a flight of birds will come and alight upon the tree; and in thine own country thou didst never hear a strain so sweet, as that which they will sing. and at the moment thou art most delighted with the song of the birds, thou wilt hear a murmuring and complaining coming towards thee along the valley. and thou wilt see a knight upon a coal black horse, clothed in black velvet, and with a pennon of black linen upon his lance, and he will ride unto thee to encounter thee, with the utmost speed. if thou fleest from him he will overtake thee, and if thou abidest there, as sure as thou art a mounted knight, he will leave thee on foot. and if thou dost not find trouble in that adventure, thou needst 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 every thing, 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, fastened by the chain. then i took the bowl, and cast a bowlful of water upon the slab; and thereupon behold the thunder came, much more violent than the black man had led me to expect; and after the thunder came the shower; and of a truth i tell thee, kai, that there is neither man nor beast that could endure that shower and live. for not one of those hailstones would be stopped either by the flesh, or by the skin, until it had reached the bone. i turned my horse's flanks towards the shower, and placed the beak of my shield over his head and neck, while i held the upper part of it over my own head. and thus i withstood the shower. when i looked on the tree, there was not a single leaf upon it, and then the sky became clear; and with that, behold the birds lighted upon the tree, and sang. and truly, kai, 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 murmuring voice was heard through the valley, approaching me, and saying, 'oh, knight, what has brought thee hither? what evil have i done to thee, that thou shouldest act towards me and my possessions, as thou hast this 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 each other; and as the onset was furious, it was not long before i was overthrown. then the knight passed the shaft of his lance through the bridle rein of my horse, and rode off with the two horses; leaving me where i was. and he did not even bestow so much notice upon me, as to imprison me, nor did he despoil me of my arms. so i returned along the road by which i had come. and when i reached the glade where the black man was, i confess to thee, kai, it is a marvel that i did not melt down into a liquid pool, through the shame that i felt at the black man's derision. and that night i came to the same castle, where i had spent the night preceding. and i was more agreeably entertained that night, than i had been the night before; and i was better feasted, and 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. and i remained there that night. when i arose on the morrow, i found ready saddled a dark-bay palfrey, with nostrils as red as scarlet. and after putting on my armour, 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 that i would not part with him for the best palfrey in the island of britain. "now of a truth, kai, no man ever before confessed to an adventure so much to his own discredit; and verily it seems strange to me, that neither before nor since have i heard of any person, besides myself, who knew of this adventure, and that the subject of it should exist within king arthur's dominions, without any other person lighting upon it." "now," quoth owain, "would it not be well to go and endeavour to discover that place?" "by the hand of my friend," said kai, "often dost thou utter that with thy tongue, which thou wouldest not make good with thy deeds." "in very truth," said gwenhwyvar, "it were better thou wert hanged, kai, than to use such uncourteous speech towards a man like owain." "by the hand of my friend, good lady," said kai, "thy praise of owain is not greater than mine." with that arthur awoke, and asked if he had not been sleeping a little. "yes, lord," answered owain, "thou hast slept awhile." "is it time for us to go to meat?" "it is, lord," said owain. 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 armour, and mounted his charger, and travelled through distant lands, and over desert mountains. and at length he arrived at the valley which kynon had described to him; and he was certain that it was the same that he sought. and journeying along the valley, by the side of the river, he followed its course till he came to the plain, and within sight of the castle. when he approached the castle, he saw the youths shooting their daggers, in the place where kynon had 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. and he went forward towards the castle, and there he saw the chamber; and when he had entered the chamber, he beheld the maidens working at satin embroidery, in chairs of gold. and their beauty, and their comeliness seemed to owain far greater than kynon had represented to him. and they arose to wait upon owain, as they had done to kynon. and the meal which they set before him, gave more satisfaction to owain than it had done to kynon. about the middle of the repast the yellow man asked owain the object of his journey. and owain made it known to him, and said, "i am in quest of the knight who guards the fountain." upon this, the yellow man smiled, and said that he was as loth to point out that adventure to owain as he had been to kynon. however he described the whole to owain, and 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 of him his road, and he showed it to him. and owain followed the road, as kynon had done, till he came to the green tree; and he beheld the fountain, and the slab beside the fountain with the bowl upon it. and 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, much more violent than kynon had described, and after the shower, the sky became bright. and when owain looked at the tree, there was not one leaf upon it. and immediately the birds came, and settled upon the tree, and sang. and when their song was most pleasing to owain, he beheld a knight coming towards him through the valley, and he prepared to receive him; and encountered him violently. having broken both their lances, they drew their swords, and fought blade to blade. then owain struck the knight a blow through his helmet, 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 pursued him, and followed close upon him, although he was not near enough to strike him with his sword. thereupon owain descried a vast and resplendent castle. and they came to the castle gate. and the black knight was allowed to enter, and the portcullis was let fall upon owain; and 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 owain was in a perplexing situation. and while he was in this state, he could see through an aperture in the gate, a street facing him, with a row of houses on each side. and 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 approached the gate, and desired that it should be opened. "heaven knows, lady," said owain, "it is no more possible for me to open to thee from hence, than it is for thee to set me free." "truly," said the damsel, "it is very sad that thou canst not be released, and every woman ought to succour thee, for i never saw one more faithful in the service of ladies than thou. as a friend thou art the most sincere, and as a lover the most devoted. therefore," quoth she, "whatever is in my power to do for thy release, i will do it. take this ring and put it on thy finger, with the stone inside thy hand; and close thy hand upon the stone. and as long as thou concealest it, it will conceal thee. when they have consulted together, they will come forth to fetch thee, in order to put thee to death; {27} and they will be much grieved that they cannot find thee. and i will await thee on the horseblock 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 accompany me." then she went away from owain, and he did all that the maiden had told him. and the people of the castle came to seek owain, to put him to death, and when they found nothing but the half of his horse, they were sorely grieved. and owain vanished from among them, and went to the maiden, and placed his hand upon her shoulder, whereupon she set off, and owain followed her, until they came to the door of a large and beautiful chamber, and the maiden opened it, and they went in, and closed the door. and owain looked around the chamber, and behold there was not even a single nail in it, that was not painted with gorgeous colours; and there was not a single panel, that had not sundry images {28} in gold portrayed upon it. the maiden kindled a fire, and took water in a silver bowl, and put a towel of white linen on her shoulder, 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 brought him food. and of a truth, owain never saw any kind of meat that was not there in abundance, but it was better cooked there, than he ever found it in any other place. nor did he ever see so excellent a display of meat and drink as there. and there was not one vessel from which he was served, that was not of gold, or of silver. and owain ate and drank, until late in the afternoon, when lo, they heard a mighty clamour in the castle; and owain asked the maiden what that outcry was. "they are administering extreme unction," said she, "to the nobleman who owns the castle." and owain went to sleep. the couch which the maiden had prepared for him was meet for arthur himself; it was of scarlet, and fur, and satin, and sendall, and fine linen. in the middle of the night they heard a woeful outcry. "what outcry again is this?" said owain. "the nobleman who owned the castle is now dead," said the maiden. and a little after daybreak, they heard an exceeding loud clamour and wailing. and owain asked the maiden what was the cause of it. "they are bearing to the church, the body of the nobleman who owned the castle." and owain rose up, and clothed himself, and opened a window of the chamber, and looked towards the castle; and he could see neither the bounds, nor the extent of the hosts that filled the streets. and they were fully armed; and a vast number of women were with them, both on horseback, and on foot; and all the ecclesiastics in the city, singing. and it seemed to owain that the sky resounded with the vehemence of their cries, and with the noise of the trumpets, and with the singing of the ecclesiastics. {29a} in the midst of the throng, he beheld the bier, over which was a veil of white linen; and wax tapers were burning beside, and around it, and none that supported the bier was lower in rank than a powerful {29b} baron. never did owain see an assemblage so gorgeous with satin, and silk, and sendall. and following the train, he beheld a lady with yellow hair falling over her shoulders, and stained with blood; and about her a dress of yellow satin, which was torn. upon her feet were shoes of variegated leather. and it was a marvel that the ends of her fingers were not bruised, from the violence with which she smote her hands together. truly she would have been the fairest lady owain ever saw, had she been in her usual guise. and her cry was louder than the shout of the men, or the clamour of the trumpets. {30} no sooner had he beheld the lady, than he became inflamed with her love, so that it took entire possession of him. then he enquired of the maiden who the lady was. "heaven knows," replied the maiden, "she may be said to be the fairest, and the most chaste, and the most liberal, and the wisest, and the most noble of women. and she is my mistress; and she is called the countess of the fountain, the wife of him whom thou didst slay yesterday." "verily," said owain, "she is the woman that i love best." "verily," said the maiden, "she shall also love thee not a little." and with that the maid 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 from before owain, and brought him to eat. and truly owain had never so good a meal, nor was he ever so well served. when he had finished his repast, the maiden arranged his couch. "come here," said she, "and sleep, and i will go and woo for thee." and owain went to sleep, and the maiden shut the door of the chamber after her, and went towards the castle. 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 through grief. luned came and saluted her, but the countess answered her not. and the maiden bent down towards her, and said, "what aileth thee, that thou answerest no one to-day?" "luned," said the countess, "what change hath befallen thee, that thou hast not come to visit me in my grief? it was wrong in thee, and i having made thee rich; it was wrong in thee that thou didst not come to see me in my distress. that was wrong in thee." "truly," said luned, "i thought thy good sense was greater than i find it to be. is it well for thee to mourn after that good man, or for anything else, that thou canst not have?" "i declare to heaven," said the countess, "that in the whole world there is not a man equal to him." "not so," said luned, "for an ugly man would be as good as, or better than he." {31} "i declare to heaven," said the countess, "that were it not repugnant to me to cause to be put to death one whom i have brought up, i would have thee executed, for making such a comparison to me. as it is, i will banish thee." "i am glad," said luned, "that thou hast no other cause to do so, than that i would have been of service to thee when thou didst not know what was to thine advantage. and henceforth evil betide whichever of us shall make the first advance towards reconciliation to the other; whether i should seek an invitation from thee, or thou of thine own accord shouldest seek to invite me." with that luned went forth; and the countess arose and followed 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. "in truth," said the countess, "evil is thy disposition; but if thou knowest what is to my advantage, declare it to me." "i will do so," quoth she. "thou knowest that except by warfare and arms it is impossible for thee to preserve thy possessions; delay not, therefore, to seek some one who can defend them." "and how can i do that?" said the countess. "i will tell thee," said luned, "unless thou canst defend the fountain, thou canst not maintain thy dominions; and no one can defend the fountain, except it be a knight of arthur's household; and i will go to arthur's court, and ill betide me, if i return thence without a warrior who can guard the fountain, as well as, or even better than, he who defended it formerly." "that will be hard to perform," said the countess. "go, however, and make proof of that which thou hast promised." luned set out, under the pretence of going to arthur's court; but she went back to the chamber where she had left owain; and she tarried there with him as long as it might have taken her to have travelled to the court of king arthur. and at the end of that time, she apparelled herself, and went to visit the countess. and the countess was much rejoiced when she saw her, and enquired what news she brought from the court. "i bring thee the best of news," said luned, "for i have compassed the object of my mission. when wilt thou, that i should present to thee the chieftain who has come with me hither?" "bring him here to visit me to-morrow, at mid-day," said the countess, "and i will cause the town to be assembled by that time." and luned returned home. and the next day, at noon, owain arrayed himself in a coat, and a surcoat, and a mantle of yellow satin, upon which was a broad band of gold lace; and on his feet were high shoes of variegated leather, which were fastened by golden clasps, in the form of lions. and they proceeded to the chamber of the countess. right glad was the countess of their coming. and she gazed steadfastly upon owain, and said, "luned, this knight has not the look of a traveller." "what harm is there in that, lady?" said luned. "i am certain," said the countess, "that no other man than this, chased the soul from the body of my lord." "so much the better for thee, lady," said luned, "for had he not been stronger than thy lord, he could not have deprived him of life. there is no remedy for that which is past, be it as it may." "go back to thine abode," said the countess, "and i will take counsel." the next day, the countess caused all her subjects to assemble, and shewed them that her earldom was left defenceless, and that it could not be protected but with horse and arms, and military skill. "therefore," said she, "this is what i offer for your choice: either let one of you take me, or give your consent for me to take a husband from elsewhere, to defend my dominions." so they came to the determination, that it was better that she should have permission to marry some one from elsewhere; and thereupon she sent for the bishops and archbishops, to celebrate her nuptials with owain. and the men of the earldom did owain homage. and owain defended the fountain with lance and sword. and this is the manner in which he defended it. whensoever a knight came there, he overthrew him, and sold him for his full worth. and what he thus gained, he divided among his barons, and his knights; and no man in the whole world could be more beloved than he was by his subjects. and it was thus for the space of three years. it befell that as gwalchmai went forth one day with king arthur, he perceived him to be very sad and sorrowful. and gwalchmai was much grieved to see arthur in this state; and he questioned him, saying, "oh my lord! what has befallen thee?" "in sooth, gwalchmai," said arthur, "i am grieved concerning owain, whom i have lost these three years; and i shall certainly die, if the fourth year passes without my seeing him. now i am sure, that it is through the tale which kynon the son of clydno related, that i have lost owain." "there is no need for thee," said gwalchmai, "to summon to arms thy whole dominions, on that 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 with thee." and it was settled, according to what gwalchmai had said. then arthur and the men of his household prepared to go and seek owain; and their number was three thousand, beside their attendants. and kynon the son of clydno acted as their guide. and arthur came to the castle, where kynon had been before. and when he came there the youths were shooting in the same place, and the yellow man was standing hard by. when the yellow man saw arthur, he greeted him, and invited him to the castle. and arthur accepted his invitation, and they entered the castle together. and great as was the number of his retinue, their presence was scarcely observed in the castle, so vast was its extent. and the maidens rose up to wait on them. and the service of the maidens appeared to them all to excel any attendance they had ever met with; and even the pages who had charge of the horses, were no worse served, that night, than arthur himself would have been, in his own palace. the next morning, arthur set out thence, with kynon for his guide, and came to the place where the black man was. and the stature of the black man was more surprising to arthur, than it had been represented to him. and 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. and upon that, kai came to arthur, and spoke to him. "my lord," said he, "i know the meaning of all this, and my request is, that thou wilt permit me to throw the water on the slab, and to receive the first advantage that may befall." and arthur gave him leave. then kai threw a bowlful of water upon the slab, and immediately there came the thunder, and after the thunder the shower. and such a thunderstorm 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 it 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. then they beheld a knight, on a coal-black horse, clothed in black satin, coming rapidly towards them. and kai met him and encountered him, and it was not long before kai was overthrown. and the knight withdrew. {36} and arthur and his host encamped for the night. and when they arose in the morning, they perceived the signal of combat upon the lance of the knight; and kai came to arthur, and spoke to him. "my lord," said he, "though i was overthrown yesterday, if it seem good to thee, i would gladly meet the knight again to-day." "thou mayst do so," said arthur. and kai went towards the knight. and on the spot he overthrew kai, {37a} and struck him with the head of his lance in the forehead, so that it broke his helmet and the headpiece, and pierced the skin, and the flesh, the breadth of the spearhead, even to the bone. and kai returned to his companions. after this, all the household of arthur went forth, one after the other, to combat the knight, until there was not one that was not overthrown by him, except arthur and gwalchmai. and arthur armed himself to encounter the knight. "oh, my lord," said gwalchmai, "permit me to fight with him first." and arthur permitted him. and he went forth to meet the knight, having over himself and his horse, a satin robe of honour 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. and they charged each other, and fought all that day until the evening. and neither of them was able to unhorse the other. the next day they fought with strong lances; and neither of them could obtain the mastery. and the third day they fought with exceeding strong lances. and they were increased with rage, and fought furiously, even until noon. and 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. and they rose up speedily, and drew their swords, and resumed the combat. {37b} and the multitude that witnessed the encounter felt assured that they had never before seen two men so valiant, or so powerful. and had it been midnight, it would have been light from the fire that flashed from their weapons. and the knight gave gwalchmai a blow that turned his helmet from off his face, so that the knight knew that it was gwalchmai. then owain said, "my lord gwalchmai, i did not know thee for my cousin, owing to the robe of honour, that enveloped thee; take my sword and my arms." said gwalchmai, "thou, owain, art the victor; take thou my sword." and with that arthur saw that they were conversing, and advanced towards them. "my lord arthur," said gwalchmai, "here is owain, who has vanquished me, and will not take my arms." "my lord," said owain, "it is he that has vanquished me, and he will not take my sword." "give me your swords," said arthur, "and then neither of you has vanquished the other." then owain put his arms around arthur'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. and they retired that night, and the next day arthur prepared to depart. "my lord," said owain, "this is not well of thee. for i have been absent from thee these three years, {38} and during all that time, up to this very day, i have been preparing a banquet for thee, knowing that thou wouldest come to seek me. tarry with me therefore, until thou and thy attendants have recovered the fatigues of the journey, and have been anointed." and they all proceeded to the castle of the countess of the fountain, and the banquet which had been three years preparing was consumed in three months. never had they a more delicious or agreeable banquet. and arthur prepared to depart. then 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 shew him to the nobles, and the fair dames of the island of britain. and the countess gave her consent, although it was very painful to her. so owain came with arthur to the island of britain. and when he was once more amongst his kindred and friends, he remained three years, instead of three months, with them. * * * * * and as owain one day sat at meat, in the city of caerlleon upon usk, behold a damsel entered, upon a bay horse, with a curling mane, and covered with foam; and the bridle, and as much as was seen of the saddle, were of gold. and the damsel was arrayed in a dress of yellow satin. and she went up to owain, and took the ring from off his hand. "thus," said she, "shall be treated the deceiver, the traitor, the faithless, the disgraced, and the beardless." {39} and she turned her horse's head, and departed. then his adventure came to owain's remembrance, and he was sorrowful. and having finished eating, he went to his own abode, and made preparations that night. and the next day he arose, but did not go to the court, but wandered to the distant parts of the earth, and to uncultivated mountains. and he remained there until all his apparel was worn out, and his body was wasted away, and his hair was grown long. and he went about with the wild beasts, and fed with them, until they became familiar with him. but at length he grew so weak, that he could no longer bear them company. then he descended from the mountains to the valley, and came to a park, that was the fairest in the world, and belonged to a widowed countess. one day the countess and her maidens went forth to walk by a lake, that was in the middle of the park. and they saw the form of a man. and they were terrified. nevertheless they went near him, and touched him, and looked at him. and they saw that there was life in him, though he was exhausted by the heat of the sun. and the countess returned to the castle, and took a flask full of precious ointment, and gave it to one of her maidens. "go with this," said she, "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 arise, through the efficacy of this balsam. then watch what he will do." and the maiden departed from her, and poured the whole of the balsam upon owain, and left the horse and the garments hard by, and went a little way off, and hid herself, to watch him. in a short time she saw him begin to move his arms; and he arose up, and looked at his person, and became ashamed of the unseemliness of his appearance. then he perceived the horse and the garments, that were near him. and he crept forward till he was able to draw the garments to him from off the saddle. and he clothed himself, and with difficulty mounted the horse. then the damsel discovered herself to him, and saluted him. and he was rejoiced when he saw her, and enquired of her, what land and what territory that was. "truly," said the maiden, "a widowed countess owns yonder castle; at the death of her husband, he left her two earldoms, but at this day she has but this one dwelling that has not been wrested from her, by a young earl, who is her neighbour, because she refused to become his wife." "that is pity," said owain. and he and the maiden proceeded to the castle; and he alighted there, and the maiden conducted him to a pleasant chamber, and kindled a fire, and left him. and the maiden 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?" said she. "oh, maiden," said the countess, "i cannot easily forgive thee this; it is sad for me to have wasted seven-score pounds' worth of precious ointment, upon a stranger whom i know not. however, maiden, wait thou upon him, until he is quite recovered." and the maiden did so, and furnished him with meat and drink, and fire, and lodging, and medicaments, 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 enquired 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 countess." and owain enquired 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 the loan of a horse and arms for me," said owain, "that i may go and look at this army?" "i will," said the maiden. and she came to the countess, and told her what owain had said. and the countess laughed. "truly," said she, "i will even give him a horse and arms, for ever; such a horse and such arms, had he never yet, 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 would do with them." the countess bade them bring out a beautiful black steed, upon which was a beechen saddle, and a suit of armour, for man and horse. and owain armed himself, and mounted the horse, and went forth, attended by two pages completely equipped, with horses and arms. and when they came near to the earl's army, they could see neither its extent, nor its extremity. and owain asked the pages in which troop the earl was. "in yonder troop," said they, "in which are four yellow standards. two of them are before, and two 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 drew him completely out of his saddle, and turned his horse's head towards the castle, and, though it was with difficulty, he brought the earl to the portal, where the pages awaited him. and in they came. and owain presented the earl as a gift to the countess. and said to her, "behold a requittal to thee for thy blessed balsam." the army encamped around the castle. and the earl restored to the countess the two earldoms, he had taken from her, as a ransom for his life; and for his freedom, he gave her the half of his own dominions, and all his gold, and his silver, and his jewels, besides hostages. and owain took his departure. and the countess and all her subjects besought him to remain, but owain chose rather to wander through distant lands and deserts. and as he journeyed, he heard a loud yelling in a wood. and it was repeated a second and a third time. and owain went towards the spot, and behold a huge craggy mound, in the middle of the wood; on the side of which was a grey rock. and there was a cleft in the rock, and a serpent was 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. and owain unsheathed his sword, and drew near to the rock; and as the serpent sprung out, he struck him with his sword, and cut him in two. and he dried his sword, and went on his way, as before. but behold the lion followed him, and played about him, as though it had been a greyhound, that he had reared. they proceeded thus throughout the day, until the evening. and when it was time for owain to take his rest, he dismounted, and turned his horse loose in a flat and wooded meadow. and he struck fire, and when the fire was kindled, the lion brought him fuel enough to last for three nights. and the lion disappeared. and presently the lion returned, bearing a fine large roebuck. and he threw it down before owain, who went towards the fire with it. and owain took the roebuck, and skinned it, and placed collops of its flesh upon skewers, around the fire. the rest of the buck he gave to the lion to devour. while he was doing this, he heard a deep sigh near him, and a second, and a third. and owain called out to know whether the sigh he heard proceeded from a mortal; and he received answer, that it did. "who art thou?" said owain. "truly," said the voice, "i am luned, the hand-maiden of the countess of the fountain." "and what dost thou here?" said owain. "i am imprisoned," said she, "on account of the knight who came from arthur's court, and married the countess. and he staid a short time with her, but he afterwards departed for the court of arthur, and he has not returned since. and he was the friend i loved best in the world. and two of the pages of the countess's chamber, traduced him, and called him a deceiver. and i told them that they two were not a match for him alone. so they imprisoned me in the stone vault, and said that i should be put to death, unless he came himself, to deliver me, by a certain day; and that is no further off, than the day after to-morrow. and i have no one to send to seek him for me. and his name is owain the son of urien." "and art thou certain, that if that knight knew all this, he would come to thy rescue?" "i am most certain of it," said she. when the collops were cooked, owain divided them into two parts, between himself and the maiden; and after they had eaten, they talked together until the day dawned. and the next morning owain enquired of the damsel, if there was any place where he could get food and entertainment for that night. "there is, lord," said she; "cross over yonder, and go along the side of the river, and in a short time, thou wilt see a great castle, in which are many towers. and the earl who owns that castle, is the most hospitable man in the world. there thou mayest spend the night." never did sentinel keep stricter watch over his lord, than the lion that night over owain. and owain accoutred his horse, and passed across by the ford, and came in the sight of the castle. and he entered it, and was honourably received. and his horse was well cared for, and plenty of fodder was placed before him. then the lion went and laid down in the horse's manger; so that none of the people of the castle dared to approach him. the treatment which owain met with there, was such as he had never known elsewhere, for every one was as sorrowful, as though death had been upon him. {45} and they went to meat. and the earl sat upon one side of owain; and on the other side his only daughter. and owain had never seen any 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 he never saw any thing equal to the sadness of the people. in the middle of the repast, the earl began to bid 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 that?" said owain. "i have two sons," replied 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 then slay my sons before my eyes, unless i will deliver into his hands this my daughter. {46a} he has the form of a man, but in stature he is no less than a giant." "truly," said owain, "that is lamentable. and which wilt thou do?" "heaven knows," said the earl, "it will be better that my sons should be slain, against my will, than i should voluntarily give up my daughter to him to ill-treat and destroy." then they talked about other things, and owain staid there that night. the next morning, they heard an exceeding great clamour, which was caused by the coming of the giant, with the two youths. and the earl was anxious both to protect his castle, and to release his two sons. {46b} then owain put on his armour, and went forth to encounter the giant; and the lion followed him. and when the giant saw that owain was armed, he rushed towards him, and attacked him. and the lion fought with the giant, much more fiercely than owain did. "truly," said the giant, "i should find no difficulty in fighting with thee, were it not for the animal that is with thee." upon that owain took the lion back to the castle, and shut the gate upon him. and then he returned to fight the giant, as before. and the lion roared very loud, for he heard that it went hard with owain. and he climbed up, till he reached the top of the earl's hall; and thence he got to the top of the castle, and he sprang down from the walls, and went and joined owain. and the lion gave the giant a stroke with his paw, which tore him from his shoulder to his hip, and his heart was laid bare. and the giant fell down dead. then owain restored the two youths to their father. the earl besought owain to remain with him, and he would not, but set forward towards the meadow, where luned was. and when he came there, he saw a great fire kindled, and two youths with beautiful curling auburn hair, were leading the maiden to cast her into the fire. and owain asked them what charge they had against her. and they told him of the compact {47} that was between them; as the maiden had done the night before. "and," said they, "owain has failed her, therefore we are taking her to be burnt." "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." "we will," said the youths, "by him who made us." and they attacked 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. and 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." and owain put the lion in the place where the maiden had been imprisoned, and blocked up the door with stones. and he went to fight with the young men as before. but owain had not his usual strength, {48} and the two youths pressed hard upon him. and the lion roared incessantly at seeing owain in trouble. and he burst through 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. then owain returned with luned, to the dominions of the countess of the fountain. and when he went thence, he took the countess with him to arthur's court, and she was his wife as long as she lived. and they took the road that led to the court of the savage black man. and owain fought with him, and the lion did not quit owain, until he had vanquished him. and when he reached the court of the savage black man, he entered the hall: and beheld four and twenty ladies, the fairest that could be seen. and the garments which they had on, were not worth four and twenty pence. and they were as sorrowful as death. and owain asked them the cause of their sadness. and they said, "we are the daughters of earls, and we all came here, with our husbands, whom we dearly loved. and we were received with honour and rejoicing. and we were thrown into a state of stupor, and while we were thus, the demon who owns this castle, slew all our husbands, and took from us our horses, and our raiment, and our gold, and our silver. and the corpses of our husbands are still in this house, and many others with them. and this, chieftain, is the cause of our grief, and we are sorry that thou art come hither, lest harm should befall thee." and owain was grieved, when he heard this. and he went forth from the castle, and he beheld a knight approaching him, who saluted him, in a friendly and cheerful manner, as if he had been a brother. and this was the savage black man. "in very sooth," said owain, "it is not to seek thy friendship that i am here." "in sooth," said he, "thou shalt not find it then." and with that they charged each other, and fought furiously. and owain overcame him, and bound his hands behind his back. then the black savage besought owain to spare his life, and spoke thus, "my lord owain," said he, "it was foretold, that thou shouldst come hither and vanquish me, and thou hast done so. i was a robber here, and my house was a house of spoil. but grant me my life, and i will become the keeper of an hospice, and i will maintain this house as an hospice for weak and for strong, as long as i live, for the good of thy soul." and owain accepted the proposal of him, and remained there that night. and the next day he took the four and twenty ladies, and their horses, and their raiment, and what they possessed of goods, and jewels, and proceeded with them to arthur's court. and if arthur was rejoiced when he saw him, after he had lost him the first time, his joy was now much greater. and of those ladies, such as wished to remain in arthur's court, remained there; and such as wished to depart, departed. and thenceforward owain dwelt at arthur's court, greatly beloved as the head of his household, until he went away with his followers; and those were the army of three hundred ravens which kenverchyn had left him. and wherever owain went with these, he was victorious. and this is the tale of the lady of the fountain. peredur the son of evrawc. earl evrawc owned the earldom of the north. and he had seven sons. and evrawc maintained himself not so much by his own possessions as by attending tournaments, and wars, and combats. and, as it often befalls those who join in encounters and wars, he was slain, and six of his sons likewise. now the name of his seventh son was peredur, and he was the youngest of them. and he was not of an age to go to wars and encounters, otherwise he might have been slain as his father and brothers. his mother was a scheming and thoughtful woman, and she was very solicitous concerning this her only son and his {52} possessions. so she took counsel with herself to leave the inhabited country, and to flee to the deserts and unfrequented wildernesses. and she permitted none to bear her company thither but women and boys, and spiritless men, who were both unaccustomed and unequal to war and fighting. and none dared to bring either horses or arms where her son was, lest he should set his mind upon them. and the youth went daily to divert himself in the forest, by flinging sticks and staves. and one day he saw his mother's flock of goats, and near the goats two hinds were standing. and he marvelled greatly that these two should be without horns, while the others had them. and he thought they had long run wild and on that account they had lost their horns. and by activity and swiftness of foot, he drove the hinds and the goats together into the house which there was for the goats at the extremity of the forest. then peredur returned to his mother. "ah, mother," said he, "a marvellous thing have i seen in the wood; two of thy goats have run wild, and lost their horns; through their having been so long missing in the wood. and no man had ever more trouble than i had to drive them in." then they all arose and went to see. and when they beheld the hinds, they were greatly astonished. and one day they saw three knights coming along the horse-road on the borders of the forest. and the three knights were gwalchmai the son of gwyar, and geneir gwystyl, and owain the son of urien. and owain kept on the track of the knight who had divided the apples in arthur's court, whom they were in pursuit of. "mother," said peredur, "what are those yonder?" "they are angels, my son," said she. "by my faith," said peredur, "i will go and become an angel with them." and peredur went to the road, and met them. "tell me, good soul," said owain, "sawest thou a knight pass this way, either to-day or yesterday?" "i know not," answered he, "what a knight is." "such an one as i am," said owain. "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?" demanded peredur, concerning the saddle. "it is a saddle," said owain. then he asked about all the accoutrements which he saw upon the men, and the horses, and the arms, and what they were for, and how they were used. and owain shewed 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 enquirest for, and i will follow thee." then peredur returned to his mother and her company, and he said to her, "mother, those were not angels, but honourable knights." then his mother swooned away. and peredur went to the place where they kept the horses that carried firewood, and that brought meat and drink from the inhabited country to the desert. and he took a bony piebald horse, which seemed to him the strongest of them. and 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. and when peredur came again to his mother, the countess had recovered from her swoon. "my son," said she, "desirest thou to ride forth?" "yes, with thy leave," said he. "wait then, that i may counsel thee before thou goest." "willingly," he answered, "speak quickly." "go forward," then she said, "to the court of arthur, where there are the best, and the boldest, and the most bountiful of men. and wherever thou seest a church, repeat there thy paternoster unto it. and if thou see meat and drink, and hast need of them, and none have the kindness or the courtesy to give them to thee, take them thyself. if thou hear an outcry, proceed towards it, especially if it be the outcry of a woman. if thou see a fair jewel, possess thyself of it, and give it to another, for thus thou shalt obtain praise. if thou see a fair woman, pay thy court to her, whether she will or no; for thus thou wilt render thyself a better and more esteemed man than thou wast before." after this discourse, peredur mounted the horse, and taking a handful of sharp pointed forks in his hand, he rode forth. and he journeyed two days and two nights in the woody wildernesses, and in desert places, without food and without drink. and then he came to a vast wild wood, and far within the wood he saw a fair even glade, and in the glade he saw a tent, and seeming to him to be a church, he repeated his paternoster to the tent. and he went towards it, and the door of the tent was open. and a golden chair was near the door. and on the chair sat a lovely auburnhaired maiden, with a golden frontlet on her forehead, and sparkling stones in the frontlet, and with a large gold ring on her hand. and peredur dismounted, and entered the tent. and the maiden was glad at his coming, and bade him welcome. at the entrance of the tent he saw food, and two flasks full of wine, and two loaves of fine wheaten flour, and collops of the flesh of the wild boar. "my mother told me," said peredur, "wheresoever i saw meat and drink, to take it." "take the meat and welcome, chieftain," said she. so peredur took half of the meat and of the liquor himself, and left the rest to the maiden. and when peredur had finished eating, he bent upon his knee before the maiden. "my mother," said he, "told me, wheresoever i saw a fair jewel, to take it." "do so, my soul," said she. so peredur took the ring. and he mounted his horse, and proceeded on his journey. after this, behold the knight came, to whom the tent belonged; and he was the lord of the glade. and he saw the track of the horse, and he said to the maiden, "tell me who has been here since i departed." "a man," said she, "of wonderful demeanour." and she described to him what peredur's appearance and conduct had been. "tell me," said he, "did he offer thee any wrong?" "no," answered the maiden, "by my faith, he harmed me not." "by my faith, i do not believe thee; and until i can meet with him, and revenge the insult he has done me, and wreak my vengeance upon him, thou shalt not remain two nights in the same house." and the knight arose, and set forth to seek peredur. meanwhile peredur journeyed on towards arthur's court. and before he reached it, another knight had been there, who gave a ring of thick gold at the door of the gate for holding his horse, and went into the hall where arthur and his household, and gwenhwyvar and her maidens, were assembled. and the page of the chamber was serving gwenhwyvar with a golden goblet. then the knight dashed the liquor that was therein upon her face, and upon her stomacher, and gave her a violent blow on the face, and said, "if any have the boldness to dispute this goblet with me, and to avenge the insult to gwenhwyvar, let him follow me to the meadow, and there i will await him." so the knight took his horse, and rode to the meadow. and all the household hung down their heads, lest any of them should be requested to go and avenge the insult to gwenhwyvar. for it seemed to them, that no one would have ventured on so daring an outrage, unless he possessed such powers, through magic or charms, that none could be able to take vengeance upon him. then, behold peredur entered the hall, upon the bony piebald horse, with the uncouth trappings upon it; and in this way he traversed the whole length of the hall. {56} in the centre of the hall stood kai. "tell me, tall man," said peredur, "is that arthur, yonder?" "what wouldest thou with arthur?" asked kai. "my mother told me to go to arthur, and receive the honour of knighthood." "by my faith," said he, "thou art all too meanly equipped with horse and with arms." thereupon he was perceived by all the household, and they threw sticks at him. then, behold, a dwarf came forward. he had already been a year at arthur's court, both he and a female dwarf. they had craved harbourage of arthur, and had obtained it; and during the whole year, neither of them had spoken a single word to any one. when the dwarf beheld peredur, "ha ha!" said he, "the welcome of heaven be unto thee, goodly peredur, son of evrawc, the chief of warriors, and flower of knighthood." "truly," said kai, "thou art illtaught to remain a year mute at arthur's court, with choice of society; and now, before the face of arthur and all his household, to call out, and declare such a man as this the chief of warriors, and the flower of knighthood." and he gave him such a box on the ear, that he fell senseless to the ground. then exclaimed the female dwarf, "ha ha! goodly peredur, son of evrawc; the welcome of heaven be unto thee, flower of knights, and light of chivalry." "of a truth, maiden," said kai, "thou art ill-bred to remain mute for a year at the court of arthur and then to speak as thou dost of such a man as this." and kai kicked her with his foot, so that she fell to the ground senseless. "tall man," said peredur, "show me which is arthur." "hold thy peace," said kai, "and go after the knight who went hence to the meadow, and take from him the goblet, and overthrow him, and possess 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 towards the meadow. and when he came there, the knight was riding up and down, proud of his strength, and valour, 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 he, "desired me to come, and overthrow thee, and to take from thee the goblet, and thy horse and thy armour for myself." "silence," said the knight; "go back to the court, and tell arthur, from me, 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." and upon this the knight ran at him furiously, and struck him a violent blow {58} with the shaft of his spear, between the neck and the shoulder. "ha ha! lad," said peredur, "my mother's servants were not used to play with me in this wise; therefore, thus will i play with thee." and thereupon he struck him with a sharp pointed fork, and it hit him in the eye, and came out at the back of his neck, so that he instantly fell down lifeless. "verily," said owain the son of urien to kai, "thou wert ill advised, when thou didst send that madman after the knight, for one of two things must befall him. he must either be overthrown, or slain. if he is overthrown by the knight, he will be counted by him to be an honourable person of the court, and an eternal disgrace will it be to arthur and his warriors. and if he is slain, the disgrace will be the same, and moreover, his sin will be upon him; therefore will i go to see what has befallen him." so owain went to the meadow, and he found peredur dragging the man about. "what art thou doing thus?" said owain. "this iron coat," said peredur, "will never come from off him; not by my efforts, at any rate." {59a} and owain unfastened his armour and his clothes. "here, my good soul," said he, "is a horse and armour better than thine. take them joyfully, and come with me to arthur, to receive the order of knighthood, for thou dost merit it." "may i never shew my face again, if i go," said peredur, "but take thou the goblet to gwenhwyvar, and tell 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 his court, until i have encountered the tall man that is there, to avenge the injury he did to the dwarf and dwarfess." and owain went back to the court, and related all these things to arthur and gwenhwyvar, and to all the household. {59b} and peredur rode forward. and as he proceeded, behold a knight met him. "whence comest thou?" said the knight. "i come from arthur's court," said peredur. "art thou one of his men?" asked he. "yes, by my faith," he answered. "a good service, truly, is that of arthur." "wherefore sayest thou so?" said peredur. "i will tell thee," said he, "i have always been arthur's enemy, and all such of his men as i have ever encountered, i have slain." and without further parlance, they fought, and it was not long before peredur brought him to the ground, over his horse's crupper. then the knight besought his mercy. "mercy thou shalt have," said peredur, "if thou wilt make oath to me, that thou wilt go to arthur's court, and tell him that it was i that overthrew thee, for the honour of his service; and say that i will never come to the court, until i have avenged the insult offered to the dwarf and dwarfess." the knight pledged him his faith of this, and proceeded to the court of arthur, and said as he had promised, and conveyed the threat to kai. and peredur rode forward. and within that week he encountered sixteen knights, and overthrew them all shamefully. and they all went to 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 kai. and thereupon kai was reproved by arthur; and kai was greatly grieved thereat. and peredur rode forward. and he came to a vast and desert wood, on the confines of which was a lake. and on the other side was a fair castle. and on the border of the lake he saw a venerable hoary-headed man sitting upon a velvet cushion, and having a garment of velvet upon him. and his attendants were fishing in the lake. when the hoary-headed man beheld peredur approaching, he arose, and went towards the castle. and the old man was lame. peredur rode to the palace, and the door was open, and he entered the hall. and there was the hoary-headed man sitting on a cushion, and a large blazing fire burning before him. and the household and the company arose to meet peredur, and disarrayed him. and the man asked the youth to sit on the cushion; and they sat down, and conversed together. when it was time, the tables were laid, and they went to meat. and when they had finished their meal, the man enquired of peredur, if he knew well how to fight with the sword. "i know not," said peredur, "but were i to be taught, doubtless i should." "whoever can play well with the cudgel and shield, will also be able to fight with a sword." and the man had two sons; the one had yellow hair, and the other auburn. "arise, youth," said he, "and play with the cudgel and the shield." and so did they. "tell me, my soul," said the man, "which of the youths thinkest thou plays best?" "i think," said peredur, "that the yellow-haired youth could draw blood from the other, if he chose." "arise thou, my life, 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." so peredur arose, and went to play with the yellow-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 flowed forth. "ah, my life," said the man, "come now, and sit down, for thou wilt become the best fighter with the sword of any in this island; and i am thy uncle, thy mother's brother. and with me shalt thou remain a space, in order to learn the manners and customs of different countries, and courtesy, and gentleness, and noble bearing. leave, then, the habits and the discourse of thy mother, and i will be thy teacher; and i will raise thee to the rank of knight from this time forward. and thus do thou. if thou seest aught to cause thee wonder, ask not the meaning of it; if no one has the courtesy to inform thee, the reproach will not fall upon thee, but upon me that am thy teacher." and they had abundance of honour and service. and when it was time, they went to sleep. at the break of day, peredur arose, and took his horse, and with his uncle's permission, he rode forth. and he came to a vast desert wood, and at the further end of the wood was a meadow, and on the other side of the meadow he saw a large castle. and thitherward peredur bent his way, and he found the gate open, and he proceeded to the hall. and he beheld a stately hoary-headed man sitting on one side of the hall, and many pages around him, who arose to receive and to honour peredur. and they placed him by the side of the owner of the palace. then they discoursed together; and when it was time to eat, they caused peredur to sit beside the nobleman during the repast. and when they had eaten and drank 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, as large as a warrior could grasp. "take yonder sword," said the man to peredur, "and strike the iron staple." so peredur arose, 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," and peredur placed them together, and they became entire as they were before. and a second time he struck upon the staple, so that both it and the sword broke in two, and as before they reunited. and the third time he gave a like blow, and placed the broken parts together, and neither the staple nor the sword would unite, as before. "youth," said the nobleman, "come now, and sit down, and my blessing be upon thee. thou fightest best with the sword of any man in the kingdom. thou hast arrived at two-thirds of thy strength, and the other third thou hast not yet obtained; and when thou attainest to thy full power, none will be able to contend with thee. i am thy uncle, thy mother's brother, and i am brother {62} to the man in whose house thou wast last night." then peredur and his uncle discoursed together, and he beheld two youths enter the hall, and proceed up to the chamber, bearing a spear of mighty size, with three streams of blood flowing from the point to the ground. and when all the company saw this, they began wailing and lamenting. but for all that, the man did not break off his discourse with peredur. and as he did not tell peredur the meaning of what he saw, he forebore to ask him concerning it. and when the clamour had a little subsided, behold two maidens entered, with a large salver between them, in which was a man's head, surrounded by a profusion of blood. and thereupon the company of the court made so great an outcry, that it was irksome to be in the same hall with them. but at length they were silent. and when time was that they should sleep, peredur was brought into a fair chamber. and the next day, with his uncle's permission, he 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 corpse by her side. and as she strove to place the corpse upon the horse, it fell to the ground, and thereupon she made a great lamentation. "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 art thou accursed. and the dwarf and the dwarfess that thou sawest at arthur's court, were the dwarfs of thy father and mother; and i am thy foster-sister, and this was my wedded husband, and he was slain by the knight that is in the glade in the wood; and do not thou go near him, lest thou shouldest be slain by him likewise." "my sister, thou dost reproach me wrongfully; through my having so long remained amongst you, i shall scarcely vanquish him; and had i continued longer it would, indeed, be difficult for me to succeed. cease, therefore, thy lamenting, for it is of no avail, and i will bury the body, and then i will go in quest of the knight, and see if i can do vengeance upon him." and when he had buried the body, they went to the place where the knight was, and found him riding proudly along the glade; and he enquired of peredur whence he came. "i come from arthur's court." "and art thou one of arthur's men?" "yes, by my faith." "a profitable alliance, truly, is that of arthur." and without further parlance, they encountered one another, and immediately peredur overthrew the knight, and he besought mercy of peredur. "mercy shall thou have," said he, "upon these terms, that thou take this woman in marriage, and do her all the honour and reverence in thy power, seeing thou hast, without cause, slain her wedded husband; and that thou go to arthur's court, and shew him that it was i that overthrew thee, to do him honour and service; and that thou tell him that i will never come to his court again until i have met with the tall man that is there, to take vengeance upon him for his insult to the dwarf and the dwarfess." and he took the knight's assurance, that he would perform all this. then the knight provided the lady with a horse and garments that were suitable for her, and took her with him to arthur's court. and he told arthur all that had occurred, and gave the defiance to kai. and arthur and all his household reproved kai, for having driven such a youth as peredur from his court. said owain the son of urien, "this youth will never come into the court until kai has gone forth from it." "by my faith," said arthur, "i will search all the deserts in the island of britain, until i find peredur, and then let him and his adversary do their utmost to each other." then peredur rode forward. and he came to a desert wood, where he saw not the track either of men or animals, and where there was nothing but bushes and weeds. and at the upper end of the wood he saw a vast castle, wherein were many strong towers; and when he came near the gate, he found the weeds taller than he had done elsewhere. and he struck the gate with the shaft of his lance, and thereupon behold a lean auburn-haired youth came to an opening in the battlements. "choose thou, chieftain," said he. "whether shall i open the gate unto thee, or shall i announce unto those that are chief, that thou art at the gateway?" "say that i am here," said peredur, "and if it is desired that i should enter, i will go in." and the youth came back, and opened the gate for peredur. and when he went into the hall, he beheld eighteen youths, lean and red-headed, of the same height and of the same aspect, and of the same dress, and of the same age as the one who had opened the gate for him. and they were well skilled in courtesy and in service. and they disarrayed him. then they sat down to discourse. thereupon, behold five maidens came from the chamber into the hall. and peredur was certain that he had never seen another of so fair an aspect as the chief of the maidens. and she had an old garment of satin upon her, which had once been handsome, but was then so tattered, that her skin could be seen through it. and whiter was her skin than the bloom of crystal, and her hair and her two eyebrows were blacker than jet, and on her cheeks were two red spots, redder than whatever is reddest. and the maiden welcomed peredur, and put her arms about his neck, and made him sit down beside her. not long after this he saw two nuns enter and a flask full of wine was borne by one, and six loaves of white bread by the other. "lady," said they, "heaven is witness, that there is not so much of food and liquor as this left in yonder convent this night." then they went to meat, and peredur observed that the maiden wished to give more of the food and of the liquor to him than to any of the others. "my sister," said peredur, "i will share out the food and the liquor." "not so, my soul," said she. "by my faith, but i will." so peredur took the bread, and he gave an equal portion of it to each alike, as well as a cup full of the liquor. and when it was time for them to sleep, a chamber was prepared for peredur, and he went to rest. "behold, sister," said the youths to the fairest and most exalted of the maidens, "we have counsel for thee." "what may it be?" she enquired. "go to the youth that is in the upper chamber, and offer to become his wife, or the lady of his love, if it seem well to him." "that were indeed unfitting," said she. "hitherto i have not been the lady love of any knight, and to make him such an offer before i am wooed by him, that, truly, can i not do." "by our confession to heaven, unless thou actest thus, we will leave thee here to thy enemies, to do as they will with thee." and through fear of this, the maiden went forth; and shedding tears, she proceeded to the chamber. and with the noise of the door opening, peredur awoke; and the maiden was weeping and lamenting. "tell me, my sister," said peredur, "wherefore dost thou weep?" "i will tell thee, lord," said she, "my father possessed these dominions as their chief, and this palace was his, and with it he held the best earldom in the kingdom; then the son of another earl sought me of my father, and i was not willing to be given unto him, and my father would not give me against my will, either to him or any earl in the world. and my father had no child except myself. and after my father's death, these dominions came into my own hands, and then was i less willing to accept him than before. so he made war upon me, and conquered all my possessions except this one house. and through the valour of the men whom thou hast seen, who are my foster brothers, and the strength of the house, it can never be taken while food and drink remain. and now our provisions are exhausted; but as thou hast seen, we have been fed by the nuns, to whom the country is free. and at length they also are without supply of food or liquor. and at no later date than to-morrow, the earl will come against this place with all his forces; and if i fall into his power, my fate will be no better than to be given over to the grooms of his horses. therefore, lord, i am come to offer to place myself in thy hands, that thou mayest succour me, either by taking me hence, or by defending me here, whichever may seem best unto thee." "go, my sister," said he, "and sleep; nor will i depart from thee until i do that which thou requirest, or prove whether i can assist thee or not." the maiden went again to rest; and the next morning she came to peredur, and saluted him. "heaven prosper thee, my soul, and what tidings dost thou bring?" "none other, than that the earl and all his forces have alighted at the gate, and i never beheld any place so covered with tents, and thronged with knights challenging others to the combat." "truly," said peredur, "let my horse be made ready." so his horse was accoutred, and he arose, and sallied forth to the meadow. and there was a knight riding proudly along the meadow, having raised the signal for battle. and they encountered, and peredur threw the knight over his horse's crupper to the ground. and at the close of the day, one of the chief knights came to fight with him, and he overthrew him also, so that he besought his mercy. "who art thou?" said peredur. "verily," said he, "i am master of the household to the earl." "and how much of the countess's possessions is there in thy power?" "the third part, verily," answered he. "then," said peredur, "restore to her the third of her possessions in full, and all the profit thou hast made by them, and bring meat and drink for a hundred men, with their horses and arms, to her court this night. and thou shalt remain her captive, unless she wish to take thy life." and this he did forthwith. and that night the maiden was right joyful, and they fared plenteously. and the next day peredur rode forth to the meadow; and that day he vanquished a multitude of the host. and at the close of the day, there came a proud and stately knight, and peredur overthrew him, and he besought his mercy. "who art thou?" said peredur. "i am steward of the palace," said he. "and how much of the maiden's possessions are under thy control?" "one third part," answered he. "verily," said peredur, "thou shalt fully restore to the maiden her possessions, and, moreover, thou shalt give her meat and drink for two hundred men, and their horses and their arms. and for thyself, thou shalt be her captive." and immediately it was so done. and the third day peredur rode forth to the meadow; and he vanquished more that day than on either of the preceding. and at the close of the day, an earl came to encounter him, and he overthrew him, and he besought his mercy. "who art thou?" said peredur. "i am the earl," said he. "i will not conceal it from thee." "verily," 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 their horses and arms, and thou thyself shalt remain in her power." and thus it was fulfilled. and 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. "with thy leave," said peredur, "i will go hence." "verily, my brother, desirest thou this?" "yes, by my faith; and had it not been for love of thee, i should not have been here thus long." "my soul," said she, "who art thou?" "i am peredur the son of evrawc from the north; and if ever thou art in trouble or in danger, acquaint me therewith, and if i can, i will protect thee." so peredur rode forth. and far thence there met him a lady, mounted on a horse that was lean, and covered with sweat; and she saluted the youth. "whence comest thou, my sister?" then she told him the cause of her journey. now she was the wife of the lord of the glade. "behold," said he, "i am the knight through whom thou art in trouble, and he shall repent it, who has treated thee thus." thereupon, behold a knight rode up, and he enquired of peredur, if he had seen a knight such as he was seeking. "hold thy peace," said peredur, "i am he whom thou seekest; and by my faith, thou deservest ill of thy household for thy treatment of the maiden, for she is innocent concerning me." so they encountered, and they were not long in combat ere peredur overthrew the knight, and he besought his mercy. "mercy thou shalt have," said peredur, "so thou wilt return by the way thou camest, and declare that thou holdest the maiden innocent, and so that thou wilt acknowledge unto her the reverse thou hast sustained at my hands." and the knight plighted him his faith thereto. then peredur rode forward. and above him he beheld a castle, and thitherward he went. and he struck upon the gate with his lance, and then, behold a comely auburn-haired youth opened the gate, and he had the stature of a warrior, and the years of a boy. and when peredur came into the hall, there was a tall and stately lady sitting in a chair, and many handmaidens around her; and the lady rejoiced at his coming. and when it was time, they went to meat. and after their repast was finished, "it were well for thee, chieftain," said she, "to go elsewhere to sleep." "wherefore can i not sleep here?" said peredur. "nine sorceresses are here, my soul, of the sorceresses of gloucester, and their father and their mother are with them; and unless we can make our escape before daybreak, we shall be slain; and already they have conquered and laid waste all the country, except this one dwelling." "behold," said peredur, "i will remain here to-night, and if you are in trouble, i will do you what service i can; but harm shall you not receive from me." so they went to rest. and with the break of day, peredur heard a dreadful outcry. and he hastily arose, and went forth in his vest and his doublet, with his sword about his neck, and he saw a sorceress overtake one of the watch, who cried out violently. peredur attacked the sorceress, and struck her upon the head with his sword, so that he flattened her helmet and her headpiece like a dish upon her head. "thy mercy, goodly peredur, son of evrawc, and the mercy of heaven." "how knowest thou, hag, that i am peredur?" "by destiny, and the foreknowledge that i should suffer harm from thee. and thou shalt take a horse and armour of me; and with me thou shalt go to learn chivalry and the use of thy arms." said peredur, "thou shalt have mercy, if thou pledge thy faith thou wilt never more injure the dominions of the countess." and peredur took surety of this, and with 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 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 there he spent the night. 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. and the noise of the horse scared the hawk away, and a raven alighted upon the bird. and peredur stood, and compared the blackness of the raven, and whiteness of the snow, and the redness of the blood, to the hair of the lady that best he loved, which was blacker than jet, and to her skin which was whiter than the snow, and to the two red spots upon her cheeks, which were redder than the blood upon the snow appeared to be. now arthur and his household were in search of peredur. "know ye," said arthur, "who is the knight with the long spear that stands by the brook {72} 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, and asked him what he did thus, and who he was. and from the intensity with which he thought upon the lady whom best he loved, he gave him 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 did not answer one more than another, but gave the same reception to all, bringing them with one single thrust to the ground. and then came kai, and spoke to peredur rudely and angrily; and 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 blade, and he rode over him one and twenty times. and while he lay thus, stunned with the violence of the pain that he had suffered, his horse returned back at a wild and prancing pace. and when the household saw the horse come back without his rider, they rode forth in haste to the place where the encounter had been. and when they first came there, they thought that kai was slain; but they found that if he had a skilful physician, he yet might live. and peredur moved not from his meditation, on seeing the concourse that was around kai. and kai was brought to arthur's tent, and arthur caused skilful physicians to come to him. and arthur was grieved that kai had met with this reverse, for he loved him greatly. "then," said gwalchmai, "it is not fitting that any should disturb an honourable knight from his thought unadvisedly; for either he is pondering some damage that he has sustained, or he is thinking of the lady whom best he loves. and through such ill-advised proceeding, perchance this misadventure has befallen him who last met with him. and if it seem well to thee, lord, i will go and see if this knight has changed from his thought; and if he has, i will ask him courteously to come and visit thee." then kai was wrath, and he spoke angry and spiteful words. "gwalchmai," said he, "i know that thou wilt bring him because he is fatigued. little praise and honour, nevertheless, wilt thou have from vanquishing a weary knight, who is tired with fighting. yet, thus hast thou gained the advantage over many. and while thy speech and thy soft words last, a coat of thin linen were armour sufficient for thee, and thou wilt not need to break either lance or sword in fighting with the knight in the state he is in." then said gwalchmai to kai, "thou mightest use more pleasant words, wert thou so minded; and it behoves thee not upon me to wreak thy wrath and thy displeasure. methinks i shall bring the knight hither with me without breaking either my arm or my shoulder." then said arthur to gwalchmai, "thou speakest like a wise and a prudent man; go and take enough of armour about thee, and choose thy horse." and gwalchmai accoutred himself, and rode forward hastily to the place where peredur was. and peredur was resting on the shaft of his spear, pondering the same thought, and gwalchmai came to him without any signs of hostility, and said to him, "if i thought that it would be as agreeable to thee as it would be to me, i would converse with thee. i have also a message from 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 thus was she brought to my mind,--i was looking upon the snow, and upon the raven, and upon the drops of the blood of the bird that the hawk had killed upon the snow. and i bethought me that her whiteness was like that of the snow, and that the blackness of her hair and her eyebrows was like that of the raven, and that the two red spots upon her cheeks were like the two drops of blood." said gwalchmai, "this was not an ungentle thought, and i should marvel if it were pleasant to thee to be drawn from it." "tell me," said peredur, "is kai in arthur's court?" "he is," said he, "and behold he is the knight that fought with 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 fall 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 gwalchmai 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 thou? who art thou?" "i am called gwalchmai," he replied. "i am right glad to meet with thee," said peredur, "for in every country where i have been, i have heard of thy fame for prowess and uprightness, and i solicit thy fellowship." "thou shall have it, by my faith, and grant me thine," said he. "gladly will i do so," answered peredur. so they rode forth together joyfully towards the place where arthur was; and when kai saw them coming, he said, "i knew that gwalchmai needed not to fight the knight. and it is no wonder that he should gain fame; more can he do by his fair words, than i by the strength of my arm." and peredur went with gwalchmai to his tent, and they took off their armour. and peredur put on garments like those that gwalchmai wore; and they went together unto arthur, and saluted him. "behold, lord," said gwalchmai, "him whom thou hast sought so long." "welcome unto thee, chieftain," said arthur. "with me thou shalt remain; and had i known thy valour {76} had been such, thou shouldst not have left me as thou didst. nevertheless, this was predicted of thee by the dwarf and the dwarfess, whom kai ill treated, and whom thou hast avenged." and hereupon, behold there came the queen and her handmaidens, and peredur saluted them. and they were rejoiced to see him, and bade him welcome. and arthur did him great honour and respect, and they returned towards caerlleon. and the first night, peredur came to caerlleon, to arthur's court, and as he walked in the city after his repast, behold, there met him angharad law eurawc. "by my faith, sister," said peredur, "thou art a beauteous and lovely maiden; and were it pleasing to thee, i could love thee above all women." "i pledge my faith," said she, "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 workmanship. and he dismounted, and led his horse towards the wood. and a little way within the wood he saw a rocky 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, and peredur led his horse over the rocky ledge, until he came into the valley. and in the centre of the valley he saw a fair castle, and he went towards it. and in the meadow by the castle he beheld a huge grey man sitting, who was larger than any man he had ever before seen. and two young pages were shooting the hilts of their daggers, of the bone of the sea horse. and one of the pages had red hair, and the other auburn. and they went before him to the place where the grey man was. and peredur saluted him. and the grey man said, "disgrace to the beard of my porter." then peredur understood that the porter was the lion. and the grey man and the pages went together into 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 abundance of food and liquor. and thereupon he saw an aged woman and a young woman come from the chamber; and they were the most stately women he had ever seen. then they washed, and went to meat, and the grey man sat in the upper seat at the head of the table, and the aged woman next to him. and peredur and the maiden were placed together; and the two young pages served them. and the maiden gazed sorrowfully upon peredur, and peredur asked the maiden wherefore she was sad. "for thee, my soul; for, from when i first beheld thee, i have loved thee above all men. and it pains me to know that so gentle a youth as thou should have such a doom as awaits thee to-morrow. sawest thou the numerous black houses in the bosom of the wood. all these belong to the vassals of the grey man yonder, who is my father. and they are all giants. and to-morrow they will rise up against thee, and will slay thee. and the round valley is this valley called." "listen, fair maiden, wilt thou contrive that my horse and arms be in the same lodging with me to-night." "gladly will i cause it so to be, by heaven, if i can." and when it was time for them to sleep rather than to 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 peredur heard a great tumult of men and horses around the castle. and peredur arose, and armed himself and his horse, and went to the meadow. then the aged woman and the maiden came to the grey man, "lord," said they, "take the word of the youth, that he will never disclose what he has seen in this place, and we will be his sureties that he keep it." "i will not do so, by my faith," said the grey man. so peredur fought with the host; and towards evening, he had slain the one-third of them without receiving any hurt himself. then said the aged woman, "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. and the aged woman and the fair maiden were upon the battlements of the castle, looking forth. and at that juncture, peredur encountered the yellow-haired youth, and slew him. "lord," said the maiden, "grant the young man mercy." "that will i not do, by heaven," he replied; and thereupon peredur attacked the auburn-haired youth, and slew him likewise. "it were better thou hadst accorded mercy to the youth, before he had slain thy two sons; for now scarcely wilt thou thyself escape from him." "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 was, and besought mercy for her father, and for all such of his vassals as had escaped alive. "thou shalt have it, on condition that thy father, and all that are under him, go and render homage to arthur, and tell him that it was his vassal peredur that did him this service." "this will we do willingly, by heaven." "and you shall also receive baptism; and i will send to arthur, and beseech him to bestow this valley upon thee, and upon thy heirs after thee for ever." then they went in, and the grey man and the tall woman saluted peredur. and the grey 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 arthur, and to embrace the faith, and be baptized." then said peredur, "to heaven i render thanks that i have not broken my vow to the lady that best i love, which was, that i would not speak one word unto any christian." that night they tarried there. and the next day, in the morning, the grey man, with his company, set forth to arthur's court; and they did homage unto arthur, and he caused them to be baptized. and the grey man told arthur, that it was peredur that had vanquished them. and arthur gave the valley to the grey man and his company, to hold it of him as peredur had besought. and with arthur's permission, the grey man went back to the round valley. peredur rode forward next day, and he traversed a vast tract of desert, in which no dwellings were. and at length he came to a habitation, 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, furiously, and desperately, fought he with the serpent; and at the last he killed it, and took away the ring. and thus he was for a long time without speaking a word to any christian. and therefrom he lost his colour and his aspect, through extreme longing after the court of arthur, and the society of the lady whom best he loved, and of his companions. then he proceeded forward to arthur's court, and on the road there met him arthur's household, going on a particular errand, with kai at their head. and peredur knew them all, but none of the household recognised him. "whence comest thou, chieftain?" said kai. and this he asked him twice, and three times, and he answered him not. and kai thrust him through the thigh with his lance. and lest he should be compelled to speak, and to break his vow, he went on without stopping. "then," said gwalchmai, "i declare to heaven, kai, that thou hast acted ill in committing such an outrage on a youth like this, who cannot speak." and gwalchmai returned back to arthur's court. "lady," said he to gwenhwyvar, "seest thou how wicked an outrage kai has committed upon this youth who cannot speak; for heaven's sake, and for mine, cause him to have medical care before i come back, and i will repay thee the charge." and before the men returned from their errand, a knight came to the meadow beside arthur's palace, to dare some one to the encounter. and his challenge was accepted; and peredur fought with him, and overthrew him. and for a week he overthrew one knight every day. and one day, arthur and his household were going to church, and they beheld a knight who had raised the signal for combat. "verily," said arthur, "by the valour of men, i will not go hence until i have my horse and my arms to overthrow yonder boor." then went the attendants to fetch arthur's horse and arms. and peredur met the attendants as they were going back, and he took the horse and arms from them, and proceeded to the meadow; and all those who saw him arise and go to do battle with the knight, went upon the tops of the houses, and the mounds, and the high places, to behold the combat. and peredur beckoned with his hand to the knight to commence the fight. and the knight thrust at him, but he was not thereby moved from where he stood. and peredur spurred his horse, and ran at him wrathfully, furiously, fiercely, desperately, and with mighty rage, and he gave him a thrust, deadly-wounding, severe, furious, adroit and strong, under his jaw, and raised him out of his saddle, and cast him a long way from him. and peredur went back, and left the horse and the arms with the attendant as before, and he went on foot to the palace. then peredur went by the name of the dumb youth. and behold, angharad law eurawc met him. "i declare to heaven, chieftain," said she, "woeful is it that thou canst not speak; for couldst thou speak, i would love thee best of all men; and, by my faith, although thou canst not, i do love thee above all." "heaven reward thee, my sister," said peredur, "by my faith, i also do love thee." thereupon it was known that he was peredur. and then he held fellowship with gwalchmai, and owain the son of urien, and all the household, and he remained in arthur's court. arthur was in caerlleon upon usk; and he went to hunt, and peredur went with him. and peredur let loose his dog upon a hart, and the dog killed the hart in a desert place. and a short space from him he saw signs of a dwelling, and towards the dwelling he went, and he beheld a hall, and at the door of the hall he found bald swarthy youths playing at chess. and when he entered, he beheld three maidens sitting on a bench, and they were all clothed alike, as became persons of high rank. and he came, and sat by them upon the bench; and one of the maidens looked steadfastly upon peredur, and wept. and peredur asked her wherefore she was weeping. "through grief, that i should see so fair a youth as thou art, slain." "who will slay me?" enquired peredur. "if thou art so daring as to remain here to-night, i will tell thee." "how great soever my danger may be from remaining here, i will listen unto thee." "this palace is owned by him who is my father," said the maiden, "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 thus?" "a man who does violence and wrong unto his neighbours, and who renders justice unto 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 fairest and gentlest youth that ever thou didst see. and for the sake of heaven, and of thine own dignity, have patience with him." "for thy sake i will have patience, and i will grant him his life this night." then peredur came towards them to the fire, and partook of food and liquor, and entered into discourse with the ladies. and being elated with the liquor, 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?" "it is one of my habits," said the black man, "that whosoever puts to me the 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 the excitement of liquor, make good that which thou saidest and didst promise me just now." "i will do so, gladly, for thy sake," said he. "willingly will i grant him his life this night." and that night thus they remained. and the next day the black man got up, and put on his armour, and said to peredur, "arise, man, and suffer death." and peredur said unto him, "do one of two things, black man; if thou wilt fight with me, either throw off thy own armour, or give arms to me, that i may encounter thee." "ha! man," said he, "couldst thou fight, if thou hadst arms? take, then, 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 forced him to crave his mercy. "black man, thou shalt have mercy, provided thou tell me who thou art, and who put out thine eye." "lord, i will tell thee, i lost it in fighting with the black serpent of the carn. there is a mound, which is called the mound of mourning; and on the mound there is a earn, and in the earn there is a serpent, and on the tail of the serpent there is a stone, and the virtues of the stone are such, that whosoever should hold it in one hand, in the other he will 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. and for this reason i am called the black oppressor, that there is not a single man around me whom i have not oppressed, and justice have i done unto none." "tell me" said peredur, "how far is it hence?" "the same day that thou settest forth, thou wilt come to the palace of the sons of the king of the tortures." "wherefore are they called thus?" "the addanc of the lake slays them once every day. when thou goest thence, thou wilt come to the court of the countess of the achievements." "what achievements are there?" asked peredur. "three hundred men there are in her household, and unto every stranger that comes to the court, the achievements of her household are related. and this is the manner of it,--the three hundred men of the household sit next unto the lady; and that not through disrespect unto the guests, but that they may relate the achievements of the household. and the day that thou goest thence, thou wilt reach the mound of mourning, and round about the mound there are the owners of three hundred tents guarding the serpent." "since thou hast, indeed, 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 camest 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 are in this court, thou shalt have her whom thou best likest for the lady of thy love." "lady, i came not hither from my country to woo; but match yourselves as it liketh you with the comely youths i see here; 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 the 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, which was below the door, 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 men came in upon their saddles, and the maiden treated these two in the same manner as she had done the first. then peredur asked the chieftain wherefore it was thus. and they told him, that there was an addanc in a cave, which slew them once every day. and thus they remained that night. and next morning the youths arose to sally forth, and peredur besought them, for the sake of the ladies of their love, to permit him to go with them; but they refused him, saying, "if thou shouldst be slain there, thou hast none to bring thee back to life again." and they rode forward, and peredur followed after them; and after they had disappeared out of 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 that enters, and none see him; and from behind the pillar he slays every one with a poisonous dart. and if thou wouldst pledge me thy faith, to love me above all women, i would give thee a stone, by which thou shouldst see him when thou goest in, and he should not see thee." "i will, by my troth," said peredur, "for when first i beheld thee, i loved thee; and where shall i seek thee?" "when thou seekest me, seek towards india." and the maiden vanished, after placing the stone in peredur's hand. and he came towards a valley, through which ran a river; and the borders of the valley were 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 on the other a flock of black sheep. and whenever one of the white sheep bleated, one of the black sheep would 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 root to the top, and the other half was green and in full leaf. and nigh thereto he saw a youth sitting upon a mound, and two greyhounds, white-breasted, and spotted, in leashes, lying by his side. and certain was he, that he had never seen a youth of so royal a bearing as he. and in the wood opposite he heard hounds raising a herd of deer. and peredur saluted the youth, and the youth greeted him in return. and there were three roads leading from the mound; two of them were wide roads, and the third was more narrow. and peredur enquired where the three roads went. "one of them goes to my palace," said the youth, "and one of two things i counsel thee to do, either to proceed to my palace, which is before thee, and where thou wilt find my wife, or else to remain here to see the hounds chasing the roused deer from the wood to the plain. and thou shall see the best greyhounds thou didst ever behold, and the boldest in the chase, kill them by the water beside us; and when it is time to go to meat, my page will come with my horse to meet me, and thou shalt rest in my palace to-night." "heaven reward thee; but i cannot tarry, for onward must i go." "the other road leads to the town, which is near here, and wherein food and liquor may be bought; and the road which is narrower than the others goes towards the cave of the addanc." "with thy permission, young man, i will go that way." and peredur went towards the cave. and he took the stone in his left hand, and his lance in his right. and as he went in, he perceived the addanc, and he pierced him through with his lance, and cut off his head. and as he came from the cave, behold the three companions were at the entrance; and they saluted peredur, and told him that there was a prediction that he should slay that monster. and peredur gave the head to the young men, and they offered him in marriage whichever of the three sisters he might choose, and half their kingdom with her. "i came not hither to woo," said peredur, "but if peradventure i took a wife, i should prefer your sister to all others." and peredur rode forward, and he heard a noise behind him. and he looked back, and saw a man upon a red horse, with red armour upon him; and the man rode up by his side, and saluted him, and wished him the favour of heaven and of man. and peredur greeted the youth kindly. "lord, i come to make a request unto thee." "what wouldest thou?" "that thou shouldest take me as thine attendant." "who then should i take as my attendant, if i did so?" "i will not conceal from thee what kindred i am of. etlym gleddyv coch am i called, an earl from the east country." "i marvel that thou shouldest offer to become attendant to a man whose possessions are no greater than thine own; for i have but an earldom like thyself. but since thou desirest to be my attendant, i will take thee joyfully." and they went forward to the court of the countess, and all they of the court were glad at their coming; and they were told it was not through disrespect they were placed below the household, but that such was the usage of the court. for, whoever should overthrow the three hundred men of her household, would sit next the countess, and she would love him above all men. and peredur having overthrown the three hundred men of her household, sat down beside her, and the countess said, "i thank heaven that i have a youth so fair and so valiant as thou, since i have not obtained the man whom best i love." "who is he whom best thou lovest?" "by my faith, etlym gleddyv coch is the man whom i love best, and i have never seen him." "of a truth, etlym is my companion; and behold here he is, and for his sake did i come to joust with thy household. and he could have done so better than i, had it pleased him. and i do give thee unto him." "heaven reward thee, fair youth, and i will take the man whom i love above all others." and the countess became etlym's bride from that moment. and the next day peredur set forth towards the mound of mourning. "by thy hand, lord, but i will go with thee," said etlym. then they went forwards 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." so etlym went unto them, and said unto them thus--"come and do homage to my lord." "who is thy lord?" said they. "peredur with the long lance is my lord," said etlym. "were it permitted to slay a messenger, thou shouldest 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 homage." peredur desired him to go back to them, and to give them their choice, either to 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 the owners of a hundred more; and the third day the remaining hundred took counsel to do homage to peredur. and peredur enquired 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 conqueror among us would have the stone." "await here," said peredur, "and i will go to encounter the serpent." "not so, lord," said they, "we will go altogether to encounter the serpent." "verily," said peredur, "that will i not permit; for if the serpent be slain, i shall derive no more fame therefrom than one of you." then he went to the place where the serpent was, and slew it, and came back to them, and said, "reckon up what you have spent since you have been here, and i will repay you to the full." and he paid to each what he said was his claim. and he required of them only that they should acknowledge themselves his vassals. and he said to etlym, "go back unto her whom thou lovest best, and i will go forwards, and i will reward thee for having been my attendant." and he gave etlym the stone. "heaven repay thee and prosper thee," said etlym. and peredur rode thence, and he came to the fairest valley he had ever seen, through which ran a river; and there he beheld many tents of various colours. and he marvelled still more at the number of water-mills and of wind-mills that he saw. and there rode up with him a tall auburn-haired man, in a workman's garb, and peredur enquired of him who he was. "i am the chief miller," said he, "of all the mills yonder." "wilt thou give me lodging?" said peredur. "i will, gladly," he answered. and peredur came to the miller's house, and the miller had a fair and pleasant dwelling. and peredur asked money as a loan from the miller, that he might buy meat and liquor for himself, and for the household, and he promised that he would pay him again ere he went thence. and he enquired of the miller, wherefore such a multitude were there assembled. said the miller to peredur, "one thing is certain; either thou art a man from afar, or thou art beside thyself. the empress of cristinobyl the great is here; and she will have no one but the man who is most valiant; for riches does she not require. and it was impossible to bring food for so many thousands as are here, therefore were all these mills constructed." and that night they took their rest. and the next day peredur arose, and he equipped himself and his horse for the tournament. and among the other tents, he beheld one, which was the fairest he had ever seen. and he saw a beauteous maiden leaning her head out of a window of the tent, and he had never seen a maiden more lovely than she. and upon her was a garment of satin. and he gazed fixedly on the maiden, and began to love her greatly. and he remained there, gazing upon the maiden from morning until mid-day, and from mid-day until evening; and then the tournament was ended; and he went to his lodging, and drew off his armour. then he asked money of the miller as a loan, and the miller's wife was wroth with peredur; nevertheless, the miller lent him the money. and the next day he did in like manner as he had done the day before. and at night he came to his lodging, and took money as a loan from the miller. and the third day, as he was in the same place, gazing upon the maiden, he felt a hard blow between the neck and the shoulder, from the edge of an axe. and when he looked behind him, he saw that it was the miller; and the miller said to him, "do one of two things: either turn thy head from hence, or go to the tournament." and peredur smiled on the miller, and went to the tournament; and all that encountered him that day, he overthrew. and as many as he vanquished, he sent as a gift to the empress, and their horses and arms he sent as a gift to the wife of the miller, in payment of the borrowed money. peredur attended the tournament until all were overthrown, and he sent all the men to the prison of the empress, and the horses and arms to the wife of the miller, in payment of the borrowed money. and the empress sent to the knight of the mill, to ask him to come and visit her. and peredur went not for the first nor for the second message. and the third time she sent an hundred knights to bring him against his will, and they went to him, and told him their mission from the empress. and peredur fought well with them, and caused them to be bound like stags, and thrown into the mill dyke. and the empress sought advice of a wise man, who was in her counsel; and he said to her, "with thy permission, i will go to him myself." so he came to peredur, and saluted him, and besought him, for the sake of the lady of his love, to come and visit the empress. and they went, together with the miller. and peredur went and sat down in the outer chamber of the tent, and she came and placed herself by his side. and there was but little discourse between them. and peredur took his leave, and went to his lodging. and the next day he came to visit her, and when he came into the tent, there was no one chamber less decorated than the others. and they knew not where he would sit. and peredur went and sat beside the empress, and discoursed with her courteously. and while they were thus, they beheld a black man enter with a goblet full 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 with him for it. and she looked upon peredur. "lady," said he, "bestow on me the goblet." and peredur drank the wine, and gave the goblet to the miller's wife. and while they were thus, 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 on 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 were thus, behold a rough-looking crisp-haired man, taller than either of the others, came in with a bowl in his hand full of wine; and he bent upon his knee, and gave it into the hands of the empress, and he 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 to the miller's wife. and that night peredur returned to his lodging; and the next day he accoutred himself and his horse, and went to the meadow, and slew the three men. then peredur proceeded to the tent, and the empress said to him, "goodly peredur, remember the faith thou didst pledge me when i gave thee the stone, and thou didst kill the addanc." "lady," answered he, "thou sayest truth, i do remember it." and peredur was entertained by the empress fourteen years, as the story relates. * * * * * arthur was at caerlleon upon usk, his principal palace; and in the centre of the floor of the hall were four men sitting on a carpet of velvet, owain the son of urien, and gwalchmai the son of gwyar, and howel the son of emyr llydaw, and peredur of the long lance. and thereupon they saw a black curly-headed maiden enter, riding upon a yellow mule, with jagged thongs in her hand, to urge it on; and having a rough and hideous aspect. blacker were her face and her two hands than the blackest iron covered with pitch; and her hue was not more frightful than her form. high cheeks had she, and a face lengthened downwards, and a short nose with distended nostrils. and one eye was of a piercing mottled grey, and the other was as black as jet, deep sunk in her head. and her teeth were long and yellow, more yellow were they than the flower of the broom. and her stomach rose from the breast bone, higher than her chin. and her back was in the shape of a crook, and her legs were large and bony. and her figure was very thin and spare, except her feet and her legs, which were of huge size. and she greeted arthur and all his household, except peredur. and to peredur she spoke harsh and angry words. "peredur, i greet thee not, seeing that thou dost not merit it. blind was fate in giving thee fame and favour. when thou wast in the court of the lame king, and didst see there the youth bearing the streaming spear, from the points of which were drops of blood flowing in streams, even to the hand of the youth, and many other wonders likewise, thou didst not enquire their meaning nor their cause. hadst thou done so, the king would have been restored to health, and his dominions to peace. whereas, from henceforth, he will have to endure battles and conflicts, and his knights will perish, and wives will be widowed, and maidens will be left portionless, and all this is because of thee." then said she unto arthur, "may it please thee, lord, my dwelling is far hence, in the stately castle of which thou hast heard, and therein are five hundred and sixty-six knights of the order of chivalry, and the lady whom best he loves with each; and whoever would acquire fame in arms, and encounters, and conflicts, he will gain it there, if he deserve it. and whoso would reach the summit of fame and of honour, 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 of the fame of the world." and thereupon she rode away. said gwalchmai, "by my faith, i will not rest tranquilly until i have proved if i can release the maiden." and many of arthur's household joined themselves with him. then, likewise said peredur, "by my faith, i will not rest tranquilly until i know the story and meaning of the lance whereof the black maiden spoke." and while they were equipping themselves, behold a knight came to the gate. and he had the size and the strength of a warrior, and was equipped with arms and habiliments. and he went forward, and saluted arthur and all his household, except gwalchmai. and the knight had upon his shoulder a shield, ingrained with gold, with a fesse of azure blue upon it, and his whole armour was of the same hue. and he said to gwalchmai, "thou didst slay my lord, by thy treachery and deceit, and that will i prove upon thee." then gwalchmai rose up. "behold," said he, "here is my gage against thee, to maintain either in this place, or wherever else thou wilt, that i am not a traitor or deceiver." "before the king whom i obey, will i that my encounter with thee take place," said the knight. "willingly," said gwalchmai, "go forward, and i will follow thee." so the knight went forth, and gwalchmai accoutred himself, and there was offered unto him abundance of armour, but he would take none but his own. and when gwalchmai and peredur were equipped, they set forth to follow him, by reason of their fellowship, and of the great friendship that was between them. and they did not go after him in company together, but each went his own way. at the dawn of day, gwalchmai came to a valley, and in the valley he saw a fortress, and within the fortress a vast palace, and lofty towers around it. and he beheld a knight coming out to hunt from the other side, mounted on a spirited black snorting palfrey, that advanced at a prancing pace, proudly stepping, and nimbly bounding, and sure of foot; and this was the man to whom the palace belonged. and gwalchmai saluted him, "heaven prosper thee, chieftain," said he, "and whence comest thou?" "i come," answered he, "from the court of arthur." "and art thou arthur's vassal?" "yes, by my faith," said gwalchmai. "i will give thee good counsel," said the knight. "i see that thou art tired and weary, go unto my palace, if it may please thee, and tarry there to-night." "willingly, lord," said he, "and heaven reward thee." "take this ring as a token to the porter, and go forward to yonder tower, and therein thou wilt find my sister." and gwalchmai went to the gate, and shewed the ring, and proceeded to the tower. and on entering, he beheld a large blazing fire, burning without smoke, and with a bright and lofty flame, and a beauteous and stately maiden was sitting on a chair by the fire. and the maiden was glad at his coming, and welcomed him, and advanced to meet him. and he went and sat beside the maiden, and they took their repast. and when their repast was over, they discoursed pleasantly together. and while they were thus, behold there entered a venerable hoary-headed man. "ah! base girl," said he, "if thou didst think that it was right for thee to entertain and to sit by yonder man; thou wouldest not do so." and he withdrew his head, and went forth, "ha! chieftain," said the maiden, "if thou wilt do as i counsel thee, thou wilt shut the door, lest the man should have a plot against thee." upon that gwalchmai arose, and when he came near unto the door, the man, with sixty others, fully armed, were ascending the tower. and gwalchmai defended the door with a chessboard, that none might enter until the man should return from the chase. and thereupon, behold the earl arrived. "what is all this?" asked he. "it is a sad thing," said the hoary-headed man, "the young girl yonder has been sitting and eating with him who slew your father. he is gwalchmai the son of gwyar." "hold thy peace, then," said the earl, "i will go in." and the earl was joyful concerning gwalchmai. "ha! chieftain," said he, "it was wrong of thee to come to my court, when thou knewest that thou didst slay my father; and though we cannot avenge him, heaven will avenge him upon thee." "my soul," said gwalchmai, "thus it is; i came not here either to acknowledge or to deny having slain thy father; but i am on a message from arthur, and therefore do i crave the space of a year until i shall return from my embassy, and then, upon my faith, i will come back unto this palace, and do one of two things, either acknowledge it, or deny it." and the time was granted him willingly; and he remained there that night. and the next morning he rode forth. and the story relates nothing further of gwalchmai respecting this adventure. and peredur rode forward. and he wandered over the whole island, seeking tidings of the black maiden, and he could meet with none. and he came to an unknown land, in the centre of a valley, watered by a river. and as he traversed the valley, he beheld a horseman coming towards him, and wearing the garments of a priest, and he besought his blessing. "wretched man," said he, "thou meritest no blessing, and thou wouldst not be profited by one, seeing that thou art clad in armour on such a day as this." "and what day is to-day?" said peredur. "to-day is good friday," he answered. "chide me not, that i knew not this, seeing that it is a year to-day since i journeyed forth from my country." then he dismounted, and led his horse in his hand. and he had not proceeded far along the high road before he came to a cross road, and the cross road traversed a wood. and on the other side of the wood he saw an unfortified castle, which appeared to be inhabited. and at the gate of the castle there met him the priest whom he had seen before, and he asked his blessing. "the blessing of heaven be unto thee," said he, "it is more fitting to travel in thy present guise, than as thou wast erewhile; and this night thou shalt tarry with me." so he remained there that night. and the next day peredur sought to go forth. "to-day may no one journey. thou shalt remain with me to-day and to-morrow, and the day following, and i will direct thee as best i may to the place which thou art seeking." and 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 thereof, i will tell thee," he replied. "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 sojourned during easter. and if thou mayest have tidings anywhere of the castle of wonders, thou wilt have them there." then peredur rode forward. and he came to the valley in which was the river, and there met him a number of men going to hunt, and in the midst of them was a man of exalted rank, and peredur saluted him. "choose, chieftain," said the man, "whether thou wilt go with me to the chase, or wilt proceed to my palace, and i will despatch one of my household to commend thee to my daughter, who is there, and who will entertain thee with food and liquor until i return from hunting; and whatever may be thine errand, such as i can obtain for thee, thou shalt gladly have." and the king sent a little yellow page with him as an attendant; and when they came to the palace, the lady had arisen, and was about to wash before meat. peredur went forward, and she saluted him joyfully, and placed him by her side. and they took their repast. and whatsoever peredur said unto her, she laughed loudly, so that all in the palace could hear. then spoke the yellow page to the lady. "by my faith," said he, "this youth is already thy husband; or if he be not, thy mind and thy thoughts are set upon him." and the little yellow page went unto the king, and told him that it seemed to him that the youth whom he had met with was his daughter's husband, or if he were not so already, that he would shortly become so, unless he were cautious. "what is thy counsel in this matter, youth?" said the king. "my counsel is," he replied, "that thou set strong men upon him, to seize him, until thou hast ascertained the truth respecting this." so he set strong men upon peredur, who seized him, and cast him into prison. and the maiden went before her father, and asked him, wherefore he had caused the youth from arthur's court to be imprisoned. "in truth," he answered, "he shall not be free to-night, nor to-morrow, nor the day following, and he shall not come from where he is." she replied not to what the king had said, but she went to the youth. "is it unpleasant to thee to be here?" said she. "i should not care, if i were not," he replied. "thy couch and thy treatment shall be in no wise inferior to that of the king himself, and thou shalt have the best entertainment that the palace affords. and if it were more pleasing to thee that my couch should be here, that i might discourse with thee, it should be so, cheerfully." "this can i not refuse," said peredur. and he remained in prison that night. and the maiden provided all that she had promised him. and the next day peredur heard a tumult in the town. "tell me, fair maiden, what is that tumult?" said peredur. "all the king's hosts and his forces have come to the town to-day." "and what seek they here?" he enquired. "there is an earl near this place, who possesses two earldoms, and is as powerful as a king; and an engagement will take place between them to-day." "i beseech thee," said peredur, "to cause a horse and arms to be brought, that i may view the encounter, and i promise to come back to my prison again." "gladly," said she, "will i provide thee with horse and arms." so she gave him a horse and arms, and a bright scarlet robe of honour over his armour, and a yellow shield upon his shoulder. and he went to the combat; and as many of the earl's men as encountered him that day, he overthrew; and he returned to his prison. and the maiden asked tidings of peredur, and he answered her not a word. and she went and asked tidings of her father, and enquired who had acquitted himself best of the household. and he said that he knew not, but that it was a man with a scarlet robe of honour over his armour, and a yellow shield upon his shoulder. then she smiled, and returned to where peredur was, and did him great honour that night. and for three days did peredur slay the earl's men; and before any one could know who he was, he returned to his prison. and the fourth day peredur slew the earl himself. and the maiden went unto her father, and enquired 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 earldoms." "knowest thou, lord, who slew him?" "i do not know," said the king. "it was the knight with the scarlet robe of honour, and the yellow shield." "lord," said she, "i know who that is." "by heaven," he exclaimed, "who is he?" "lord," she replied, "he is the knight whom thou hast imprisoned." then he went unto peredur, and saluted him, and told him that he would reward the service he had done him, in any way he might desire. and when they went to meat, peredur was placed beside the king, and the maiden on the other side of peredur, "i will give thee," said the king, "my daughter in marriage, and half my kingdom with her, and the two earldoms as a gift." "heaven reward thee, lord," said peredur, "but i came not here to woo." "what seekest thou, then, chieftain?" "i am seeking tidings of the castle of wonders." "thy enterprise is greater, chieftain, than thou wilt wish to pursue," said the maiden, "nevertheless, tidings shalt thou have of the castle, and thou shalt have a guide through my father's dominions, and a sufficiency of provisions for thy journey, for thou art, o chieftain, the man whom best i love." then she said to him, "go over yonder mountain, and thou wilt 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 wonders; and we know not what wonders are therein, but thus is it called." and peredur proceeded towards the castle, and the gate of the castle was open. and when he came to the hall, the door was open, and he entered. and he beheld a chessboard in the hall, and the chessmen were playing against each other, by themselves. and the side that he favoured lost the game, {102} and thereupon the others set up a shout, as though they had been living men. and peredur was wroth, and took the chessmen in his lap, and cast the chessboard into the lake. and when he had done thus, behold the black maiden came in, and she said to him, "the welcome of heaven be not unto thee. thou hadst rather do evil than good." "what complaint hast thou against me, maiden?" said peredur. "that thou hast occasioned unto the empress the loss of her chessboard, which she would not have lost for all her empire. and the way in which thou mayest recover the chessboard is, to repair to the castle of ysbidinongyl, where is a black man, who lays waste the dominions of the empress; and if thou canst slay him, thou wilt recover the chessboard. but if thou goest there, thou wilt not return alive." "wilt thou direct me thither?" said peredur. "i will show thee the way," she replied. so he went to the castle of ysbidinongyl, and he fought with the black man. and the black man besought mercy of peredur. "mercy will i grant thee," said he, "on condition that thou cause the chessboard to be restored to the place where it was when i entered the hall." then the maiden came to him and said, "the malediction of heaven attend 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," answered she. so peredur went back, and slew the black man. and when he returned to the palace, he found the black maiden there. "ah! maiden," said peredur, "where is the empress?" "i declare to heaven that thou wilt not see her now, unless thou dost slay the monster that is in yonder forest." "what monster is there?" "it is a stag that is 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 he kills every animal that he meets with therein; and those that he does not slay perish of hunger. and what is worse than that, he comes every night, and drinks up the fish pond, and leaves the fishes exposed, so that for the most part they die before the water returns again." "maiden," said peredur, "wilt thou come and show me this animal?" "not so," said the maiden, "for he has not permitted any mortal to enter the forest for above a twelvemonth. behold, here is a little dog belonging to the empress, which will rouse the stag, and will chase him towards thee, and the stag will attack thee." then the little dog went as a guide to peredur, and roused the stag, and brought him towards the place where peredur was. and the stag attacked peredur, and he let him pass by him, and as he did so, he smote off his head with his sword. and 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," said she, "uncourteously hast thou acted in slaying the fairest jewel that was in my dominions." "i was intreated so to do; and is there any way by which i can obtain thy friendship?" "there is," she replied. "go thou forward unto yonder mountain, and there thou wilt find a grove; and in the grove there is a cromlech, do thou there challenge a man three times to fight, and thou shalt have my friendship." so peredur proceeded onward, and came to the side of the grove, and challenged any man to fight. 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 armour. and they fought. and as often as peredur cast the black man to the earth, he would jump again into his saddle. and peredur dismounted, and drew his sword; and thereupon the black man disappeared with peredur's horse and his own, so that he could not gain sight of him a second time. and peredur went along the mountain, and on the other side of the mountain he beheld a castle in the valley, wherein was a river. and he went to the castle; and as he entered it, he saw a hall, and the door of the hall was open, and he went in. and there he saw a lame grey-headed man, sitting on one side of the hall, with gwalchmai beside him. and peredur beheld his horse, which the black man had taken, in the same stall with that of gwalchmai. and they were glad concerning peredur. and he went and seated himself on the other side of the hoaryheaded man. then, 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 down the chessboard, and when thou didst slay the black man of ysbidinongyl, and when thou didst slay the stag, and when thou didst go to fight the black man of the cromlech. 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 gwalchmai took counsel, and sent to arthur and his household, to beseech them to come against the sorceresses. and they began to fight with them, and one of the sorceresses slew one of arthur's men before peredur's face, and peredur bade her forbear. and the sorceress 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 armour was split in two parts. and she set up a cry, and desired the other sorceresses to flee, and told them that this was peredur, the man who had learnt chivalry with them, and by whom they were destined to be slain. then arthur and his household fell upon the sorceresses, and slew the sorceresses of gloucester every one and thus is it related concerning the castle of wonders. the dream of rhonabwy. madawc the son of maredudd possessed powys within its boundaries, from porfoed to gwauan in the uplands of arwystli. and at that time he had a brother, iorwerth the son of maredudd, in rank not equal to himself. and iorwerth had great sorrow and heaviness because of the honour and power that his brother enjoyed, which he shared not. and 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 honour, and to fare like as himself. but iorwerth refused this. and iorwerth made an inroad into england, slaying the inhabitants, and burning houses, and carrying away prisoners. and 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 seek for him. and thus did they in the plains of powys from aber ceirawc, and in allictwn ver, and in rhyd wilure, on the vyrnwy, the three best commots of powys. so he was none the better, he nor his household, in powys, nor in the plains thereof. {108} 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 kynwrig vrychgoch, a man of mawddwy, and cadwgan vras, a man of moelvre in kynlleith, came together to the house of heilyn goch the son of cadwgan the son of iddon. and when they near to the house, they saw an old hall, very black and having an upright gable, whence issued a great smoke; and on entering, 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. and where the puddles were a man might go up to his ankles in water and dirt. and there were boughs of holly spread over the floor whereof the cattle had browsed the sprigs. when they came to the hall of the house, they beheld cells full of dust, and very gloomy, {109} and on one side 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. and on the other side was a yellow calf skin on the floor, a main privilege was it to any one who should get upon that hide. and when they had sat down, they asked the hag where were the people of the house. and the hag spoke not but muttered. thereupon behold the people of the house entered; a ruddy, clownish curly-headed man, with a burthen of fagots on his back, and a pale slender woman, also carrying a bundle under her arm. and they barely welcomed the men, and kindled a fire with the boughs. and the woman cooked something and gave them to eat, barley bread, and cheese, and milk and water. and 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. and when they looked at the couch, it seemed to be made but of a little coarse straw full of dust and vermin, with the stems of boughs sticking up therethrough, for the cattle had eaten all the straw that was placed at the head and the foot. and upon it was stretched an old russet-coloured 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. and after much suffering from the vermin, and 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 yellow calfskin 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 the plain of argyngroeg, and he thought that he went towards rhyd y groes on the severn. as he journeyed, he heard a mighty noise, the like whereof heard he never before; and looking behind him, he beheld a youth with yellow curling hair, and with his beard newly trimmed, mounted on a chesnut horse, whereof the legs were grey from the top of the forelegs, and from the bend of the hindlegs downwards. and 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 whereof were likewise green. and 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 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. and when he had overtaken them, they besought his mercy. "you have it gladly!" said he, "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. i am iddawc the son of mynyo, yet not by my name, but by my nickname am i best known." "and wilt thou tell us what thy nickname is?" "i will tell you; it is iddawc cordd prydain." "ha, chieftain," said rhonabwy, "why art thou called thus?" "i will tell thee. i was one of the messengers 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 arthur the emperor to reason with medrawd, and to shew 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 whereas arthur charged me with the fairest sayings he could think of, i uttered unto medrawd the harshest i could devise. and therefore am i called iddawc cordd prydain, for from this did the battle of camlan 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 remained doing penance seven years, and after that i gained pardon." then lo! they heard a mighty sound which was much louder than that which they had heard before, and when they looked round towards the sound; behold a ruddy youth, without beard or whiskers, {111} noble of mien, and mounted on a stately courser. and from the shoulders and the front of the knees downwards the horse was bay. and upon the man was a dress of red satin wrought with yellow silk, and yellow were the borders of his scarf. and such parts of his apparel and of the trappings of his horse as were yellow, as yellow were they as the blossom of the broom, and such as were red, were as ruddy as the ruddiest blood in the world. then behold the horseman overtook them, and he asked of iddawc a share of the little men that were with him. "that which is fitting for me to grant i will grant, and thou shalt be a companion to them as i have been." and the horseman went away. "iddawc," enquired rhonabwy, "who was that horseman?" "rhuvawn pebyr, the son of prince deorthach." and they journeyed over the plain of argyngroeg as far as the ford of rhyd y groes on the severn. and for a mile around the ford on both sides of the road, they saw tents and encampments, and there was the clamour of a mighty host. and they came to the edge of the ford, and there they beheld arthur sitting on a flat island below the ford, having bedwini {112} 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 a cap of jet black satin. and his face was white as ivory, and 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 came iddawc and they that were with him, and stood before arthur, and saluted him. "heaven grant thee good," said arthur. "and where, iddawc, didst thou find these little men?" "i found them, lord, up yonder on the road." then the emperor smiled. "lord," said iddawc, "wherefore dost thou laugh?" "iddawc," replied arthur, "i laugh nor; but it pitieth me that men of such stature as these should have this island in their keeping, after the men that guarded it of yore." then said iddawc, "rhonabwy, dost thou see the ring with a stone set in it, that is upon the emperor's hand?" "i see it," he answered. "it is one of the properties of that stone, to enable thee to remember that thou seest here to-night, and hadst thou not seen the stone, thou wouldest never have been able to remember aught thereof." after this they saw a troop coming towards the ford. "iddawc," enquired rhonabwy, "to whom does yonder troop belong?" "they are the fellows of rhuvawn pebyr the son of prince deorthach. and these men are honourably served with mead and bragget, and are freely beloved by the daughters of the kings of the island of britain. and this they merit, for they were ever in the front and the rear in every peril." and he saw but one hue upon the men and the horses of this troop, for they were all as red as blood. and when one of the knights rode forth from the troop, he looked like a pillar of fire glancing athwart the sky. and this troop encamped above the ford. then they beheld another troop coming towards the ford, and these from their horses' chests upwards were whiter than the lily, and below blacker than jet. and they saw one of these knights go before 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. and as he turned the head of his horse, the youth who stood before arthur 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. and 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 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." 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 spake a tall and stately man, of noble and flowing speech, saying that it was a marvel that so vast a host should be assembled in so narrow a space, and that it was a still greater marvel that those should be there at that time who had promised to be by mid-day in the battle of badon, fighting with osla gyllellvawr. "whether thou mayest choose to proceed or not, i will proceed." "thou sayest well," said arthur, "and we will go all together." "iddawc," said rhonabwy, "who was the man who spoke so marvellously unto arthur erewhile?" "a man who may speak as boldly as he listeth, caradawc vreichvras, the son of llyr marini, his chief counsellor and his cousin." then iddawc took rhonabwy behind him on his horse, and that mighty host moved forward, each troop in its order, towards cevndigoll. and 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 there came 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 son of meirchion is their prince. and he is cousin unto 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." and when they had overtaken the host, arthur and his army of mighty ones dismounted below caer badon, and he perceived that he and iddawc journeyed the same road as arthur. and after they had dismounted 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. and 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 ruddies blood. and he rode amongst the host. "iddawc," said rhonabwy, "will yonder host flee?" "king arthur never fled, and if this discourse of thine were heard, thou wert a lost man. but as to the knight whom thou seest yonder, it is kai. the fairest horseman is kai in all arthur's court; and the men who are at the front of the army hasten to the rear to see kai ride, and the men who are in the centre, flee to the side from the shock of his horse. {116a} and this is the cause of the confusion of 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 the similitude of two serpents was upon the sword in gold. and when the sword was drawn from its scabbard, it seemed as if two flames of fire burst forth from the jaws of the serpents, and then, so wonderful was the sword, that it was hard for any one to look upon it. and 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, whose duty is to arm the king on the days of battle and warfare." and they heard a call made for eirynwych amheibyn, arthur's servant, a red, rough, ill-favoured man, having red whiskers {116b} with bristly hairs. and behold he came upon a tall red horse, with the mane parted on each side, and he brought with him a large and beautiful sumpter pack. and the huge red youth dismounted before arthur, and he drew a golden chair out of the pack, and a carpet of diapered satin. and he spread the carpet before arthur, and there was an apple of ruddy gold at each corner thereof, and he placed the chair upon the carpet. and so large was the chair that three armed warriors might have sat therein. gwenn was the name of the carpet, and it was one of its properties, that whoever was upon it no one could see him, and he could see every one. and it would retain no colour but its own. 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," said owain. and the red youth brought the chess for arthur and owain; golden pieces and a board of silver. and they began to play. and while they were thus, 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 shoes of particoloured 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. and the youth saluted owain. and owain marvelled that the youth should salute him and should not have saluted the emperor arthur. and 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 attendants of the emperor harass and torment and worry the ravens? and if it be not with thy leave, cause the emperor to forbid them." "lord," said owain, "thou hearest what the youth says; if it seem good to thee, forbid them from my ravens." "play thy game," said he. then the youth returned to the tent. that game did they finish, and another 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 having his beard new shorn, came forth from a bright yellow tent, upon the summit of which was the figure of a bright red lion. and 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. and on his feet were hose of fine white buckram, and buskins of black leather were over his hose, whereon were golden clasps. and in his hand a huge, heavy, three-edged sword, with a scabbard of red-deer hide, tipped with gold. and he came to the place where arthur and owain were playing at chess. and he saluted him. and owain was troubled at his salutation, but arthur minded it no more than before. and the youth said unto owain, "is it not against thy will that the attendants of the emperor harass thy ravens, killing some and worrying others? if against thy will it be, beseech him to forbid them." "lord," said owain, "forbid thy men if it seem good to thee." "play thy game," said the emperor. and the youth returned to the tent. and that game was ended, and another begun. and as they were beginning the first move of the game, they beheld at a small distance from them a tent speckled yellow, the largest ever seen, and the figure 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. and upon his feet were hose of fine totness, and shoes of particoloured 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 mighty lance, speckled yellow, with a newly sharpened head; and upon the lance a banner displayed. fiercely angry, and with rapid pace, came the youth to the place where arthur was playing at chess with owain. and they perceived that he was wroth. and 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, "forbid thy men." "play," said he "if it please thee." then said owain to the youth, "go back, and wherever thou findest the strife at the thickest, there lift up the banner, and let come what pleases heaven." so the youth returned back 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, wrathful and fierce and high of spirit, 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. and arthur and owain marvelled at the tumult as they played at chess; and, looking, they perceived a knight upon a dun-coloured horse coming towards them. and marvellous was the hue of the dun horse. bright red was his right shoulder, and from the top of his legs to the centre of his hoof was bright yellow. both the knight and his horse were fully equipped with heavy foreign armour. the clothing of the horse from the front opening upwards was of bright red sendal, and from thence opening downwards was of bright yellow sendal. a large gold-hilted one-edged sword had the youth upon his thigh, in a scabbard of light blue, and 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 virtue, and at the top of the helmet was the image of a flame-coloured 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 perceived that he was harassed and vexed and weary as he came towards them. and the youth saluted arthur, and told him, that the ravens of owain were slaying his young men and attendants. and arthur looked at owain and said, "forbid thy ravens." "lord," answered owain, "play thy game." and they played. and the knight returned back towards the strife, and the ravens were not forbade any more than before. and when they had played awhile, they heard 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 betwixt them, let them fall piecemeal to the earth. and during the tumult they saw a knight coming towards them on a light grey 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 armour. and a robe of honour 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-coloured 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 silver. and the youth saluted the emperor: "lord," said he, "carest thou not for the slaying of thy pages, and thy young men, and the sons of the nobles of the island of britain, whereby it will be difficult to defend this island from henceforward for ever?" "owain," said arthur, "forbid thy ravens." "play this game, lord," said owain. so they finished the game, and began another; and as they were finishing that game, lo, they heard a great tumult and a clamour of armed men, and a croaking of ravens, and a flapping of wings in the air, as they flung down the armour entire to the ground, and the men and the horses piecemeal. then they saw coming a knight on a lofty-headed piebald horse. and 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 honour upon him, and upon his horse, divided in two parts, white and black, and the borders of the robe of honour 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 yellow 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 in his hand, with a round shaft, coloured with azure blue. and the head of the spear was newly stained with blood, and was overlaid with fine silver. wrathfully came the knight to the place where arthur was, and he told him that the ravens had slain his household and the sons of the chief men of this island, and he besought him to cause owain to forbid his ravens. and arthur besought owain to forbid them. then arthur took the golden chessmen that were upon the board, and crushed them until they became as dust. then owain ordered gwres the son of rheged to lower his banner. so it was lowered, and all was peace. then rhonabwy enquired of iddawc, who were the first three men that came to owain, to tell him his ravens were being slain. said iddawc, "they were men who grieved that owain should suffer loss, his fellow-chieftains and companions, selyv the son of kynan garwyn of powys, and gwgawn gleddyvrudd, and gwres the son of rheged, he who bears the banner in the day of battle and strife." "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 iddawc, "and the bravest, and who would grieve exceedingly that arthur should have damage in aught; blathaon, the son of mawrheth, {124a} and rhuvawn pebyr the son of prince deorthach, and hyveidd unllenn." and with that behold four and twenty knights came from osla gyllellvawr, to crave a truce of arthur for a fortnight and a month. and arthur arose and went to take counsel. and he came to where a tall auburn curly-headed man was a little way off, and there he assembled his counsellors. bedwini, {124b} the bishop, and gwarthegyd the son of kaw, and march the son of meirchawn, and caradawc vreichvras, and gwalchmai the son of gwyar, and edeyrn the son of nudd, and rhuvawn pebyr the son of prince deorthach, and rhiogan the son of the king of ireland, and gwenwynwyn the son of nav, howel the son of emyr llydaw, gwilym the son of rhwyf freinc, and daned the son of ath, {124c} and goreu custennin, and mabon the son of modron, and peredur paladyr hir, and hyveidd {125a} unllenn, and twrch the son of perif, and nerth the son of kadarn, and gobrwy the son of echel vorddwyttwll, gwair the son of gwestyl, and gadwy {125b} the son of geraint, trystan {125c} the son of tallwch, moryen manawc, granwen the son of llyr, and llacheu the son of arthur, and llawvrodedd varvawc, and kadwr earl of cornwall, morvran the son of tegid, and rhyawd the son of morgant, and dyvyr the son of alun dyved, gwrhyr gwalstawd ieithoedd, adaon the son of taliesin, llary {125d} the son of kasnar {125e} wledig, and fflewddur fflam, and greidawl galldovydd, gilbert the son of kadgyffro, menw the son of teirgwaedd, gwrthmwl wledig, cawrdav the son of caradawc vreichvras, gildas the son of kaw, kadyriaith the son of saidi, and many of the men of norway, and denmark, and many of the men of greece, and a crowd of the men of the host came to that counsel. "iddawc," said rhonabwy, "who was the auburn haired man to whom they came just now?" "rhun the son of maelgwn gwynedd, a man of whose prerogative it is, that he may join in counsel with all." {125f} "and wherefore did they admit into counsel with men of such dignity as are yonder a stripling so young as kadyriaith 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 arthur's praise. and, lo, 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, to be to them as the reward for their stay and that their verse might be recompensed, during the time of the truce. and thus it was settled. "rhonabwy," said iddawc, "would it not be wrong to forbid a youth who can give counsel so liberal as this from coming to the councils of his lord?" then kai arose, and he said, "whosoever will follow arthur, let him be with him to-night in cornwall, and whosoever will not, let him be opposed to arthur even during the truce." and through the greatness of the tumult that ensued, rhonabwy awoke. and when he awoke he was upon the yellow calfskin, having 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; because of the various colours that were upon the horses, and the many wondrous colours of the arms and of the panoply, and of the precious scarfs, and of the virtue-bearing stones. footnotes: {15} "the emperor arthur" all through the tale. {16} to begin to honour them, to inform them of the manners and the customs of the court, those he was told were to go to the hall or the presence chamber, and those he was told were to get lodging. {17a} and i did not think there was in the world a wrong too mighty for me to set right. and when i had set right all the wrongs that were in my own country. {17b} add "with fair curly hair." {18a} and such was his courtesy that he greeted me before i could greet him. {18b} add, "i ween that." {18c} when she was ever loveliest, at christmas, or at easter tide mass. {19a} and the man i had seen erstwhile sat down to the table. {19b} did i not think that too much trouble would befall thee. {20} with querulous roughness. {21a} and he would but bandy words with me. {21b} so that they cannot be separated. {27} add "on account of the knight." {28} an image of a different kind. {29a} monks. {29b} land-owning. {30} louder was her cry than any trumpet blast that arose from among the multitude. {31} "truly," said luned, "i thought thy good sense was greater than i find it to be. is it better to grieve because thou canst not get _that_ good man, than it is to grieve for anything else thou canst never get?" "i declare to heaven," said the countess, "that i could never get my lord in any other man, be he the best in the world." "oh yes," said luned, "thou couldst marry a husband that would be as good as he, or better than he." {36} encamped. {37a} add "and looked at him." {37b} and belaboured each other. {38} add "and this is my abode." {39} to the disgrace of thy beard. {45} owen was certain he had never seen better service, but every one was as sorrowful as if death had been upon him. {46a} and to-morrow is the appointed day for me to meet him, to deliver to him yonder maiden, otherwise he will kill my sons before my eyes. {46b} and the earl determined to hold the castle against him, abandoning his two sons to their fate. {47} and they told him their tale. {48} but owen's strength had not yet returned. {52} her. {56} and very unmeet for so honourable a court. {58} add "causing a grievous wound." {59a} "this iron coat will never come off him," said peredur. "i doubt whether it is not part of himself, born with him." {59b} add "and the threat against kai." {62} we are brother and sister. {72} in the dingle. {76} progress. {102} and the side that he would favour would lose the game. {108} and they reckoned that the corn land of powys, from aber ceirawc in allictun ver to rhyd wilure on the vyrnwy, was as good as the three best commots in powys; and that, if there was not sustenance for him and his followers in that corn land, there would be none in powys. {109} scantly draped, poverty-stricken. {111} moustache. {112} bedwin. {116a} for fear of being crushed by his horse. {116b} a red moustache. {124a} murheth. {124b} bedwin. {124c} oth. {125a} heneidd. {125b} adwy. {125c} dyrstan. {125d} llara. {125e} kasnat. {125f} it is his privilege that everyone should come to have counsel with him. printed at the edinburgh press 9 & 11 young street transcribed from the 1912 t. fisher unwin edition by david price, email ccx074@pglaf.org the mabinogion translated from the red book of hergest by lady charlotte guest vol. iii. london t. fisher unwin 11 paternoster buildings mxcii {the finding of taliesin: p0.jpg} introduction. {picture: p11.jpg} this third volume completes the series of mabinogion and tales translated by lady charlotte guest. as in the two preceding volumes, i have compared lady guest's transcript with the original text in the red book of hergest, and with dr gwenogvryn evans' scrupulously accurate diplomatic edition. i have, as before, revised the translation as carefully as i could. i have not altered lady guest's version in the slightest degree; but i have again put in the form of foot-notes what seems to me to be a better or a more literal translation. the mistranslations are fairly few in number; but some of them are quite important, such as the references to pagan baptism or to the irish channel. at the end of my revision i may say that i have been struck by the comparative accuracy of the transcript of the red book which lady guest used, and by the accurate thoroughness with which she translated every one of the tales. this volume contains the oldest of the mabinogion--the four branches of the mabinogion proper--and the kindred tale of lludd and llevelys. in all these we are in a perfectly pagan atmosphere, neither the introduction of christianity nor the growth of chivalry having affected them to any extent. the story of taliesin is the only one in the series that is not found in the red book of hergest. it is taken from very much later manuscripts, and its welsh is much more modern. its subject, however, is akin to that of the mabinogion proper; if, indeed, the contest between elphin and the bards is an echo of the contest between decaying paganism and growing christianity. owen edwards. llanuwchllyn, 13_th_ _september_ 1902. pwyll prince of dyved. pwyll, prince of dyved, was lord of the seven cantrevs of dyved; and once upon a time he was at narberth his chief palace, and he was minded to go and hunt, and the part of his dominions in which it pleased him to hunt was glyn cuch. so he set forth from narberth that night, and went as far as llwyn diarwyd. {11a} and that night he tarried there, and early {11b} on the morrow he rose and came to glyn cuch; when he let loose the dogs in the wood, and sounded the horn, and began the chace. and as he followed the dogs, he lost his companions; and whilst he listened to the hounds, he heard the cry of other hounds, a cry different from his own, and coming in the opposite direction. and he beheld a glade in the wood forming a level plain, and as his dogs came to the edge of the glade, he saw a stag before the other dogs. and lo, as it reached the middle of the glade, the dogs that followed the stag overtook it, and brought it down. then looked he at the colour of the dogs, staying not to look at the stag, and of all the hounds that he had seen in the world, he had never seen any that were like unto those. for their hair was of a brilliant shining white, and their ears were red; and as the whiteness of their bodies shone, so did the redness of their ears glisten. and he came towards the dogs, and drove away those that had brought down the stag, and set his own dogs upon it. {picture: p13.jpg} and as he was setting on his dogs, he saw a horseman coming towards him upon a large light grey steed, with a hunting horn about his neck, and clad in garments of grey woollen in the fashion of a hunting garb. and the horseman drew near and spoke unto him thus. "chieftain," said he, "i know who thou art, and i greet thee not." "peradventure," said pwyll, "thou art of such dignity that thou shouldest not do so." "verily," answered he, "it is not my dignity that prevents me." "what is it then, o chieftain?" asked he. "by heaven, it is by reason of thine own ignorance and want of courtesy." "what discourtesy, chieftain, hast thou seen in me?" "greater discourtesy saw i never in man," said he, "than to drive away the dogs that were killing the stag, and to set upon it thine own. this was discourteous, and though i may not be revenged upon thee, yet i declare to heaven that i will do thee more dishonour than the value of an hundred stags." "o chieftain," he replied, "if i have done ill i will redeem thy friendship." "how wilt thou redeem it?" "according as thy dignity may be, but i know not who thou art?" "a crowned king am i in the land whence i come." "lord," said he, "may the day prosper with thee, and from what land comest thou?" "from annwvyn," answered he; "arawn, a king of annwvyn, {13} am i." "lord," said he, "how may i gain thy friendship?" "after this manner mayest thou," he said. "there is a man whose dominions are opposite to mine, who is ever warring against me, and he is havgan, a king of annwvyn, and by ridding me of this oppression which thou canst easily do shalt thou gain my friendship." "gladly will i do this," said he, "show me how i may." "i will show thee. behold thus it is thou mayest. i will make firm friendship with thee; and this will i do, i will send thee to annwvyn in my stead, and i will give thee the fairest lady thou didst ever behold, to be thy companion, and i will put my form and semblance upon thee, so that not a page of the chamber, nor an officer, nor any other man that has always followed me shall know that it is not i. and this shall be for the space of a year from to-morrow, and then will we meet in this place." "yes," said he; "but when i shall have been there for the space of a year, by what means shall i discover him of whom thou speakest?" "one year from this night," he answered, "is the time fixed between him and me, that we should meet at the ford; be thou there in my likeness, and with one stroke that thou givest him, he shall no longer live. and if he ask thee to give him another, give it not, how much soever he may entreat thee, for when i did so, he fought with me next day as well as ever before." "verily," said pwyll, "what shall i do concerning my kingdom?" said arawn, "i will cause that no one in all thy dominions, neither man, nor woman, shall know that i am not thou, and i will go there in thy stead." "gladly then," said pwyll, "will i set forward." "clear shall be thy path and nothing shall detain thee, until thou come into my dominions, and i myself will be thy guide!" so he conducted him until he came in sight of the palace and its dwellings. "behold," said he, "the court and the kingdom in thy power. enter the court, there is no one there who will know thee, and when thou seest {15} what service is done there, thou wilt know the customs of the court." so he went forward to the court, and when he came there, he beheld sleeping rooms, and halls, and chambers, and the most beautiful buildings ever seen. and he went into the hall to disarray, and there came youths and pages and disarrayed him, and all as they entered saluted him. and two knights came and drew his hunting dress from about him, and clothed him in a vesture of silk and gold. and the hall was prepared, and behold he saw the household and the host enter in, and the host was the most comely and the best equipped that he had ever seen. and with them came in likewise the queen, who was the fairest woman that he ever yet beheld. and she had on a yellow robe of shining satin; and they washed and went to the table, and they sat, the queen upon one side of him, and one who seemed to be an earl on the other side. and he began to speak with the queen, and he thought from her speech, that she was the seemliest, and most noble lady of converse and of cheer that ever was. and they partook of meat, and drink, with songs, and with feasting; and of all the courts upon the earth, behold this was the best supplied with food and drink, and vessels of gold and royal jewels. * * * * * and the year he spent in hunting, and minstrelsy, and feasting, and diversions, and discourse with his companions, until the night that was fixed for the conflict. and when that night came, it was remembered even by those who lived in the farthest part of his dominions, and he went to the meeting, and the nobles of the kingdom with him. and when he came to the ford, a knight arose and spake thus, "lords," said he, "listen well. it is between two kings that this meeting is, and between them only. each claimeth of the other his land and territory, and do all of you stand aside and leave the fight to be between them." {picture: p16.jpg} thereupon the two kings approached each other in the middle of the ford, and encountered, and at the first thrust, the man who was in the stead of arawn struck havgan on the centre of the boss of his shield, so that it was cloven in twain, and his armour was broken, and havgan himself was borne to the ground an arm's and a spear's length over the crupper of his horse, and he received a deadly blow. "o chieftain," said havgan, "what right hast thou to cause my death? i was not injuring thee in any thing, and i know not wherefore thou wouldest slay me. but for the love of heaven, since thou hast begun to slay me, complete thy work." "ah, chieftain," he replied, "i may yet repent doing that unto thee. slay thee who may, i will not do so." {17} "my trusty lords," said havgan, "bear me hence. my death has come. i shall be no more able to uphold you." "my nobles," also said he who was in the semblance of arawn, "take counsel and know who ought to be my subjects." "lord," said the nobles, "all should be, for there is no king over the whole of annwvyn but thee." "yes," he replied, "it is right that he who comes humbly should be received graciously, but he that doth not come with obedience, shall be compelled by the force of swords." and thereupon he received the homage of the men, and he began to conquer the country; and the next day by noon the two kingdoms were in his power. and thereupon he went to keep his tryst, and came to glyn cuch. and when he came there, the king of annwvyn was there to meet him, and each of them was rejoiced to see the other. "verily," said arawn, "may heaven reward thee for thy friendship towards me, i have heard of it. when thou comest thyself to thy dominions," said he, "thou wilt see that which i have done for thee." "whatever thou hast done for me, may heaven repay it thee." then arawn gave to pwyll prince of dyved his proper form and semblance, and he himself took his own; and arawn set forth towards the court of annwvyn; and he was rejoiced when he beheld his hosts, and his household, whom he had not seen so long; but they had not known of his absence, and wondered no more at his coming than usual. and that day was spent in joy and merriment; and he sat and conversed with his wife and his nobles. and when it was time for them rather to sleep than to carouse, they went to rest. * * * * * pwyll, prince of dyved, came likewise to his country and dominions, and began to enquire of the nobles of the land, how his rule had been during the past year, compared with what it had been before. "lord," said they, "thy wisdom was never so great, and thou wert never so kind nor so free in bestowing thy gifts, and thy justice was never more worthily seen than in this year." "by heaven," said he, "for all the good you have enjoyed, you should thank him who hath been with you; for behold, thus hath this matter been." and thereupon pwyll related the whole unto them. "verily, lord," said they, "render thanks unto heaven that thou hast such a fellowship, and withhold not from us the rule which we have enjoyed for this year past." "i take heaven to witness that i will not withhold it," answered pwyll. and thenceforth they made strong the friendship that was between them, and each sent unto the other horses, and greyhounds, and hawks, and all such jewels as they thought would be pleasing to each other. and by reason of his having dwelt that year in annwvyn, and having ruled there so prosperously, and united the two kingdoms in one day by his valour and prowess, he lost the name of pwyll prince of dyved, and was called pwyll chief of annwvyn from that time forward. * * * * * once upon a time, pwyll was at narberth his chief palace, where a feast had been prepared for him, and with him was a great host of men. and after the first meal, pwyll arose to walk, and he went to the top of a mound that was above the palace, and was called gorsedd arberth. "lord," said one of the court, "it is peculiar to the mound that whosoever sits upon it cannot go thence, without either receiving wounds or blows, or else seeing a wonder." "i fear not to receive wounds and blows in the midst of such a host as this, but as to the wonder, gladly would i see it. i will go therefore and sit upon the mound." and upon the mound he sat. 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 high way that led from the mound; and the horse seemed to move at a slow and even pace, and to be coming up towards the mound. "my men," said pwyll, "is there any among you who knows yonder lady?" "there is not, lord," said they. "go one of you and meet her, that we may know who she is." and one of them arose, and as he came upon the road to meet her, she passed by, and he followed as fast as he could, being on foot; and the greater was his speed, the further 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 in the world to follow her on foot." "verily," said pwyll, "go unto the palace, and take the fleetest horse that thou seest, and go after her." and he took a horse and went forward. and he came to an open level plain, and put spurs to his horse; and the more he urged his horse, the further was she from him. yet she held the same pace as at first. and his horse began to fail; and when his horse's feet failed him, he 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 these realms swifter than this, and it availed me not to pursue her." "of a truth," said pwyll, "there must be some illusion here. let us go towards the palace." so to the palace they went, and they spent that day. and the next day they arose, and that also they spent until it was time to go to meat. and after the first meal, "verily," said pwyll, "we will go the same party as yesterday to the top of the mound. and do thou," said he to one of his young men, "take the swiftest horse that thou knowest in the field." and thus did the young man. and they went towards the mound, taking the horse with them. and as they were sitting down they beheld the lady on the same horse, and in the same apparel, coming along the same road. "behold," said pwyll, "here is the lady of yesterday. make ready, youth, to learn who she is." "my lord," said he, "that will i gladly do." and thereupon the lady came opposite to them. so the youth mounted his horse; and before he had settled himself in his saddle, she passed by, and there was a clear space between them. but her speed was no greater than it had been the day before. then he put his horse into an amble, and thought that notwithstanding the gentle pace at which his horse went, he should 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 further was she from him. yet she rode not faster than before. when he saw that it availed not to follow her, he returned to the place where pwyll was. "lord," said he, "the horse can no more than thou hast seen." "i see indeed that it avails not that any one should follow her. and by heaven," said he, "she must needs have an errand to some one in this plain, if her haste would allow her to declare it. let us go back to the palace." and to the palace they went, and they spent that night in songs and feasting, as it pleased them. and the next day 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," said he, "to the mound, to sit there. and do thou," said he to the page who tended his horse, "saddle my horse well, and hasten with him to the road, and bring also my spurs with thee." and the youth did thus. and they went and sat upon the mound; and ere 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. "young man," said pwyll, "i see the lady coming; give me my horse." and no sooner had he mounted his horse than she passed him. and he turned after her and followed her. and he let his horse go bounding playfully, and thought that at the second step or the third he should come up with her. but he came no nearer to her than at first. then he urged his horse to his utmost speed, yet he found that it availed nothing to follow her. then said pwyll, "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 hadst thou asked it long since." so the maiden stopped, and she threw back that part of her head dress which covered her face. and she fixed her eyes upon him, and began to talk with him. "lady," asked he, "whence comest thou, and whereunto dost thou journey?" "i journey on mine own errand," said she, "and right glad am i to see thee." "my greeting be unto thee," said he. then he thought that the beauty of all the maidens, and all the ladies that he had ever seen, was as nothing compared to her beauty. "lady," he said, "wilt thou tell me aught concerning 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 on which thou couldst have come; and wilt thou tell me who thou art?" "i will tell thee, lord," said she, "i am rhiannon, the daughter of heveydd hen, and they sought to give me to 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 answer. 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 another." "the sooner i may do so, the more pleasing will it be unto 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 thou come." "gladly," said he, "will i keep this tryst." "lord," said she, "remain in health, and be mindful that thou keep thy 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 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 of heveydd hen. and he came to the palace, and 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. and the hall was garnished and they went to meat, and thus did they sit; heveydd hen was on one side of pwyll, and rhiannon on the other. and all the rest according to their rank. and they eat and feasted and talked one with another, and at the beginning of the carousal after the 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, my soul," said pwyll, "come thou and sit down." "nay," said he, "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 come." "what boon soever thou mayest ask of me, as far as i am able, thou shall have." "ah," said rhiannon, "wherefore didst thou give that answer?" "has he not given it before the presence of these nobles?" asked the youth. "my soul," said pwyll, "what is the boon thou askest?" "the lady whom best i love is to be thy bride this night; i come to ask her of thee, with the feast and the banquet that are in this place." and pwyll was silent because of the answer which he had given. "be silent as long as thou wilt," said rhiannon. "never did man make worse use of his wits than thou hast done." "lady," said he, "i knew not who he was." "behold, this is the man to whom they would have given me against my will," said she. "and he is gwawl the son of clud, a man of great power and wealth, and because of the word thou hast spoken, bestow me upon him lest shame befall thee." "lady," said he, "i understand not thine answer. never can i do as thou sayest." "bestow me upon him," said she, "and i will cause that i shall never be his." "by what means will that be?" asked pwyll. "in thy hand will i give thee a small bag," said she. "see that thou keep it well, and he will ask of thee the banquet, and the feast, and the preparations which are not in thy power. unto the hosts and the household will i give the feast. and such will be thy answer respecting this. and as concerns myself, i will engage to become his bride this night twelvemonth. and at the end of the year be thou here," said she, "and bring this bag with thee, and let thy hundred knights be in the orchard up yonder. and when he is in the midst of joy and feasting, come thou in by thyself, clad in ragged garments, and holding thy bag in thy hand, and ask nothing but a bagfull of food, and i will cause that if all the meat 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. say thou then that it never will, until a man of noble birth and of great wealth arise and press the food in the bag, with both his feet saying, 'enough has been put therein;' 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 between thee and thy knights. and when they hear the sound of the horn, let them come down upon the palace." "lord," said gwawl, "it is meet that i have an answer to my request." "as much of that thou hast asked as it is in my power to give, thou shalt have," replied pwyll. "my soul," said rhiannon unto him, "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 that are with us. these can i not suffer to be given to any. in a year 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 also 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 the son of clud set out to the feast that was prepared for him, and he came to the palace, and was received there with rejoicing. pwyll, also, the chief of annwn came to the orchard with his hundred knights, as rhiannon had commanded him, having the bag with him. and pwyll was clad in coarse and ragged garments, and wore large clumsy old shoes upon his feet. and when he knew that the carousal after the meat had begun, he went towards the hall, and when he came into the hall, he saluted gwawl the son of clud, and his company, both men and women. "heaven prosper thee," said gwawl, "and the greeting of heaven be unto thee." "lord," said he, "may heaven reward thee, i have an errand unto thee." "welcome be thine errand, and if thou ask of me that which is just, thou shalt have it gladly." "it is fitting," answered he. {26} "i crave but from want, and the boon that i ask is to have this small bag that thou seest filled with meat." "a request within reason is this," said he, "and gladly shalt thou have it. bring him food." a great number of attendants arose and begun to fill the bag, but for all that they put into it, it was no fuller than at first. "my soul," said gwawl, "will thy bag be ever full?" "it will not, i declare to heaven," said he, "for all that may be put into it, unless one possessed of lands, and domains, and treasure, shall arise and tread down with both his feet the food that is within the bag, and shall say, 'enough has been put herein.'" then said rhiannon unto gwawl the son of clud, "rise up quickly." "i will willingly arise," said he. so he rose up, and put his two feet into the bag. and 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. and 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 pwyll threw off his rags, and his old shoes, and his tattered array; and as they came in, every one of pwyll's knights struck a blow upon the bag, and asked, "what is here?" "a badger," said they. and in this manner they played, each of them striking the bag, either with his foot or with a staff. and thus played they with the bag. every one as he came in asked, "what game are you playing at thus?" "the game of badger in the bag," said they. and then was the game of badger in the bag first played. "lord," said the man in the bag, "if thou wouldest but hear me, i merit not to be slain in a bag." said heveydd hen, "lord, he speaks truth. it were fitting that thou listen to him, for he deserves not this." "verily," said pwyll, "i will do thy counsel concerning him." "behold this is my counsel then," said rhiannon; "thou art now in a position in which it behoves 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 punishment 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." "such then is our counsel," answered they. "i accept it," said pwyll. "seek thyself sureties." "we will be for him," said heveydd, "until his men be free to answer for him." and upon this he was let out of the bag, and his liegemen were liberated. "demand now of gwawl his sureties," said heveydd, "we know which should be taken for him." and heveydd numbered the sureties. said gwawl, "do thou thyself draw up the covenant." "it will suffice me that it be as rhiannon said," answered pwyll. so unto that covenant were the sureties pledged. "verily, lord," said gwawl, "i am greatly hurt, and i have many bruises. i have need to be anointed, with thy leave i will go forth. i will leave nobles in my stead, to answer for me in all that thou shall require." "willingly," said pwyll, "mayest thou do thus." so gwawl went towards his own possessions. and the hall was set in order for pwyll and the men of his host, and for them also of the palace, and they went to the tables and sat down. and as they had sat that time twelvemonth, so sat they that night. and they eat, and feasted, and spent the night in mirth and tranquillity. and the time came that they should sleep, and pwyll and rhiannon went to their chamber. and next morning at the break of day, "my lord," said rhiannon, "arise and begin to give thy gifts unto the minstrels. refuse no one to-day that may claim thy bounty." "thus shall it be gladly," said pwyll, "both to-day and every day while the feast shall last." so pwyll arose, and he caused silence to be proclaimed, and desired all the suitors and the minstrels to show and to point out what gifts were to their wish and desire. {28} and this being done the feast went on, and he denied no one while it lasted. and when the feast was ended, pwyll said unto heveydd, "my lord, with thy permission i will set out for dyved to-morrow." "certainly," said heveydd, "may heaven prosper thee. fix also a time when rhiannon may follow thee." "by heaven," said pwyll, "we will go hence together." "wiliest thou this, lord?" said heveydd. "yes, by heaven," answered pwyll. and the next day, they set forward towards dyved, and journeyed to the palace of narberth, where a 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 were 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 in the third year the nobles of the land began to be sorrowful at seeing a man whom they loved so much, and who was moreover their lord and their foster-brother, without an heir. and they came to him. {29} and the place where they met was preseleu, in dyved. "lord," said they, "we know that thou art not so young as some of the men of this country, and we fear that thou mayest not have an heir of the wife whom thou hast taken. take therefore another wife of whom thou mayest have heirs. thou canst not always continue with us, and though thou desire to remain as thou art, we will not suffer thee." "truly," said pwyll, "we have not long been joined together, and many things may yet befall. grant me a year from this time, and for the space of a year we will abide together, and after that i will do according to your wishes." so they granted it. and before the end of a year a son was born unto him. and in narberth was he born; and on the night that he was born, women were brought to watch the mother and the boy. and the women slept, as did also rhiannon, the mother of the boy. and the number of the women that were brought into the chamber, was six. and they watched for a good portion of the night, and before midnight every one of them fell asleep, and towards break of day they awoke; 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 vengeance if we are burnt or put to death because of the child." said one of the women, "is there any counsel for us in the world in this matter?" "there is," answered another, "i offer you good counsel." "what is that?" asked they. "there is here a stag-hound bitch, and she has a litter of whelps. let us kill some of the cubs, and rub the blood on the face and hands of rhiannon, and lay the bones before her, and assert that she herself had devoured her son, and she alone will not be able to gainsay us six." and according to this counsel it wast settled. and towards morning rhiannon awoke, and she said, "women, where is my son?" "lady," said they, "ask us not concerning thy son, we have nought but the blows and the bruises we got by struggling with thee, and of a truth we never saw any woman so violent as thou, for it was of no avail to contend with thee. hast thou not thyself devoured thy son? claim him not therefore of us." "for pity's sake," said rhiannon; "the lord god knows all things. charge me not falsely. {30} if you tell me this from fear, i assert before heaven that i will defend you." "truly," said they, "we would not bring evil on ourselves for any one in the world." "for pity's sake," said rhiannon; "you will receive no evil by telling the truth." but for all her words, whether fair or harsh, {31a} she received but the same answer from the women. and pwyll the chief of annwvyn arose, and his household, and his hosts. and this occurrence could not be concealed, but the story went forth throughout the land, and all the nobles heard it. then the nobles came to pwyll, and besought him to put away his wife, because of the great {31b} crime which she had done. but pwyll answered them, that they had no cause wherefore they might ask him to put away his wife, save for her having no children. "but children has she now had, therefore will i not put her away, if she has done wrong, let her do penance for it." so rhiannon sent for the teachers and the wise men, and as she preferred doing penance to contending with the women, she took upon her a penance. and 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 horse-block that was without the gate. and that she should relate the story to all who should come there, whom she might suppose not to know it already; and that she should offer the guests and strangers, if they would permit her, to carry them upon her back into the palace. but it rarely happened that any would permit. and thus did she spend part of the year. now at that time teirnyon twryv vliant was lord of gwent is coed, and he was the best man in the world. and unto his house there belonged a mare, than which neither mare nor horse in the kingdom was more beautiful. and on the night of every first of may she foaled, and no one ever knew what became of the colt. and one night teirnyon talked with his wife; "wife," said he, "it is very simple of us that our mare should foal every year, and that we should have none of her colts." "what can be done in the matter?" said she. "this is the night of the first of may," said he. "the vengeance of heaven be upon me, if i learn not what it is that takes away the colts." so he caused the mare to be brought into a house, and he armed himself, and began to watch that night. and in the beginning of the night, the mare foaled a large and beautiful colt. and it was standing up in the place. and teirnyon rose up and looked at the size of the colt, and as he did so he heard a great tumult, and after the tumult behold 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 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. and he opened the door, and rushed out in the direction of the noise, and he could not see the cause of the tumult, because of the darkness of the night; but he rushed after it and followed it. then he remembered that he had left the door open, and he returned. and at the door behold there was an infant boy in swaddling clothes, wrapped around in a mantle of satin. and he took up the boy, and behold he was very strong for the age that he was of. then he shut the door, and went unto the chamber where his wife was. "lady," said he, "art thou sleeping?" "no, lord," said she, "i was asleep, but as thou camest in i did awake." "behold here is a boy for thee if thou wilt," said he, "since thou hast never had one." "my lord," said she, "what adventure is this?" "it was thus," said teirnyon; and he told her how it all befell. "verily, lord," said she, "what sort of garments are there upon the boy?" "a mantle of satin," said he. "he is then a boy of gentle lineage," she replied. "my lord," she said, "if thou wilt, i shall have great diversion and mirth. i will call my women unto me, and tell them that i have been pregnant." "i will readily grant thee to do this," he answered. and thus did they, and they caused the boy to be baptized, and the ceremony was performed there; {33} and the name which they gave unto him, was gwri wallt euryn, because what hair was upon his head was as yellow as gold. and they had the boy nursed in the court until he was a year old. and before the year was over, he could walk stoutly. and he was larger than a boy of three years old, even one of great growth and size. and the boy was nursed the second year, and then he was as large as a child six years old. and before the end of the fourth year, he would bribe the grooms to allow him to take the horses to water. "my lord," said his wife unto teirnyon, "where is the colt which thou didst save on the night that thou foundest the boy?" "i have commanded the grooms of the horses," said he, "that they take care of him." "would it not be well, lord," said she, "if thou wert to cause him 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. "i will allow thee to give him the colt." "lord," said she, "may heaven reward thee; i will give it him." so the horse was given to the boy. then she went to the grooms and those who tended the horses, and commanded them to be careful of the horse, so that he might be broken in by the time that the boy could ride him. and while these things were going forward, they heard tidings of rhiannon and her punishment. and teirnyon twryv vliant, by reason of the pity that he felt on hearing this story of rhiannon, and her punishment, enquired closely concerning it, until he had heard from many of those who came to his court. then did teirnyon, often lamenting the sad history, ponder within himself, and he looked steadfastly on the boy, and as he looked upon him, it seemed to him that he had never beheld so great a likeness between father and son, as between the boy and pwyll, the chief of annwvyn. now the semblance of pwyll was well known to him, for he had of yore been one of his followers. and 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. and the first time that he was alone with his wife, he told her, that it was not right that they should keep the boy with them, and suffer so excellent a lady as rhiannon to be punished so greatly on his account, whereas the boy was the son of pwyll, the chief of annwvyn. and teirnyon's wife agreed with him, that they should send the boy to pwyll. "and three things, lord," said she, "shall we gain thereby. thanks and gifts for releasing rhiannon from her punishment; and thanks from pwyll, for nursing his son, and restoring him unto him; and thirdly, if the boy is of gentle nature, he will be our foster-son, and he will do for us all the good in his power." so it was settled according to this counsel. and no later than the next day was teirnyon equipped, and two other knights with him. and the boy, as a fourth in their company, went with them upon the horse which teirnyon had given him. and they journeyed towards narberth, and it was not long before they reached that place. and as they drew near to the palace, they beheld rhiannon sitting beside the horse block. and when they were opposite to her. "chieftain," said she, "go not further thus, i will bear every one of you into the palace, and this is my penance for slaying my own son and devouring him." "oh fair lady," said teirnyon, "think not that i will be one to be carried upon thy back." "neither will i," said the boy. "truly, my soul," said teirnyon, "we will not go." {35} so they went forward to the palace, and there was great joy at their coming. and at the palace a feast was prepared, because pwyll was come back from the confines of dyved. and they went into the hall and washed, and pwyll rejoiced to see teirnyon. and in this order they sat. teirnyon between pwyll and rhiannon, and teirnyon's two companions on the other side of pwyll, with the boy between them. and after meat they began to carouse and to discourse. and teirnyon's discourse was concerning the adventure of the mare and the boy, and how he and his wife had nursed and reared the child as their own. "and behold here is thy son, lady," said teirnyon. "and whosoever told that lie concerning thee, has done wrong. and when i heard of thy sorrow, i was troubled and grieved. and i believe that there is none of this host, who will not perceive that the boy is the son of pwyll," said teirnyon. "there is none," said they all, "who is not certain thereof." "i declare to heaven," said rhiannon, "that if this be true, there indeed is an end to my trouble." {36a} "lady," said pendaran dyved, "well hast thou named thy son pryderi, and well becomes him 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." "pryderi," said pendaran, "shall his name be." "it were more proper," said pwyll, "that the boy should take his name from the word his mother spoke when she received the joyful tidings of him." and thus was it arranged. "teirnyon," said pwyll, "heaven reward thee that thou hast reared the boy up to this time, and, being of gentle lineage, {36b} it were fitting that he 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 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 maintain them than i. {37a} and if this counsel be pleasing unto thee, and to my nobles, it shall be that, as thou hast reared him up to the present time, i will give him to be brought up by pendaran dyved, from henceforth. and you shall be companions and shall both be fosterfathers 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 twryv vliant, and his companions, set out for his country, and his possessions, with love and gladness. and he went not without being offered the fairest jewels and the fairest horses and the choicest dogs; but he would take none of them. thereupon they all remained in their own dominions. and pryderi, the son of pwyll the chief of annwvyn, was brought up carefully as was fit, so that he became 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 the chief of annwvyn'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 at length {37b} he added unto them the three cantrevs of ystrad tywi and the four cantrevs of cardigan; and these were called the seven cantrevs of seissyllwch. and when he made this addition, pryderi the son of pwyll the chief of annwvyn, desired to take a wife. and the wife he chose was kicva, the daughter of gwynn gohoyw, the son of gloyw wlallt {38} lydan, the son of prince casnar, one of the nobles of this island. and thus ends this portion of the mabinogion. {picture: p38.jpg} branwen the daughter of llyr. {picture: p39.jpg} bendigeid vran, the son of llyr was the crowned king of this island, and he was exalted from the crown of london. {39a} and one afternoon he was at harlech in ardudwy, at his court, and he sat upon the rock of harlech, looking over the sea. {39b} and with him were his brother manawyddan the son of llyr, and his brothers by the mother's side, nissyen and evnissyen, and many nobles likewise, as was fitting to see around a king. his two brothers by the mother's side were the sons of eurosswydd, by his mother, penardun, {40} the daughter of beli son of manogan. and one of these youths was a good youth and of gentle nature, and would make peace between his kindred and cause his family to be friends when their wrath was at the highest; and this one was nissyen; but the other would cause strife between his two brothers when they were most at peace. and as they sat thus, they beheld thirteen ships coming from the south of ireland, and making towards them, and they came with a swift motion, the wind being behind them, and they neared them rapidly. "i see ships afar," said the king, "coming swiftly towards the land. command the men of the court that they equip themselves, and go and learn their intent." so the men equipped themselves and went down towards them. and when they saw the ships near, certain were they that they had never seen ships better furnished. beautiful flags of satin were upon them. and behold one of the ships outstripped the others, and they saw a shield lifted up above the side of the ship, and the point of the shield was upwards, in token of peace. and the men drew near that they might hold converse. then they put out boats and came towards the land. and they saluted the king. now the king could hear them from the place where he was, upon the rock above their heads. "heaven prosper you," said he, "and be ye welcome. to whom do these ships belong and who is the chief amongst you?" "lord," said they, "matholwch king of ireland is here and these ships belong to him." "wherefore comes he?" asked the king, "and will he come to the land?" "he is a suitor unto thee, lord," said they, "and he will not land unless he have his boon." "and what may that be?" enquired the king. "he desires to ally himself with thee, lord," said they, "and he comes to ask branwen the daughter of llyr, that, if it seem well to thee, the island of the mighty may be leagued with ireland and both become more powerful." "verily," said he, "let him come to land, and we will take counsel thereupon." and this answer was brought to matholwch. "i will go willingly," said he. so he landed, and they received him joyfully; and great was the throng in the palace that night, between his hosts and those of the court; and next day they took counsel, and they resolved to bestow branwen upon matholwch. now she was one of the three chief ladies of this island, and she was the fairest damsel in the world. and they fixed upon aberffraw, as the place where she should become his bride. and they went thence, and towards aberffraw the hosts proceeded; matholwch and his host in their ships; bendigeid vran and his host by land, until they came to aberffraw. and at aberffraw they began the feast and sat down. and thus sat they. the king of the island of the mighty and manawyddan the son of llyr, on one side, and matholwch on the other side, and branwen the daughter of llyr beside him. and they were not within a house, but under tents. no house could ever contain bendigeid vran. and they began the banquet and caroused and discoursed. and when it was more pleasing to them to sleep than to carouse they went to rest, and that night branwen became matholwch's bride. and next day they arose, and all they of the court, and the officers began to equip and to range the horses and the attendants, and they ranged them in order as far as the sea. and behold one day, evnissyen, the quarrelsome man of whom it is spoken above, came by chance into the place, where the horses of matholwch were, and asked whose horses they might be. "they are the horses of matholwch king of ireland, who is married to branwen, thy sister; his horses are they." "and is it thus they have done with a maiden such as she, and moreover my sister, bestowing her without my consent? they could have offered no greater insult to me than this," said he. and thereupon he rushed under the horses and cut off their lips at the teeth, and their ears close to their heads, and their tails {42} close to their backs, and wherever he could clutch their eyelids, he cut them to the very bone, and he disfigured the horses and rendered them useless. and they came with these tidings unto matholwch, saying that the horses were disfigured, and injured so that not one of them could ever be of any use again. "verily, lord," said one, "it was an insult unto thee, and as such was it meant." "of a truth, it is a marvel to me, that if they desire to insult me, they should have given me a maiden of such high rank and so much beloved of her kindred, as they have done." "lord," said another, "thou seest that thus it is, and there is nothing for thee to do but to go to thy ships." and thereupon towards his ships he set out. and tidings came to bendigeid vran that matholwch was quitting the court without asking leave, and messengers were sent to enquire of him wherefore he did so. and the messengers that went, were iddic the son of anarawd, and heveydd hir. and these overtook him and asked of him what he designed to do, and wherefore he went forth. "of a truth," said he, "if i had known i had not come hither. i have been altogether insulted, no one had ever worse treatment than i have had here. but one thing surprises me above all." "what is that?" asked they. "that branwen the daughter of llyr, one of the three chief ladies of this island, and the daughter of the king of the island of the mighty, should have been given me as my bride, and that after that i should have been insulted; and i marvel that the insult was not done me before they had bestowed upon me a maiden so exalted as she." "truly, lord, it was not the will of any that are of the court," said they, "nor of any that are of the council that thou shouldest have received this insult, and as thou hast been insulted, the dishonour is greater unto bendigeid vran than unto thee." "verily," said he, "i think so. nevertheless he cannot recall the insult." these men returned with that answer to the place where bendigeid vran was, and they told him what reply matholwch had given them. "truly," said he, "there are no means by which we may prevent his going away at enmity with us, that we will not take." "well, lord," said they, "send after him another embassy." "i will do so," said he. "arise manawyddan son of llyr, and heveydd hir, and unic glew ysgwyd, and go after him, and tell him that he shall have a sound horse for every one that has been injured. and beside that, as an atonement for the insult, he shall have a staff of silver, as large and as tall as himself, and a plate of gold of the breadth of his face. and show unto him who it was that did this, and that it was done against my will; but that he who did it is my brother, by the mother's side, and therefore it would be hard for me to put him to death. and let him come and meet me," said he, "and we will make peace in any way he may desire." the embassy went after matholwch, and told him all these sayings in a friendly manner, and he listened thereunto. "men," said he, "i will take counsel." so to the council he went. and in the council they considered that if they should refuse this, they were likely to have more shame rather than to obtain so great an atonement. they resolved therefore to accept it, and they returned to the court in peace. then the pavilions and the tents were set in order after the fashion of a hall; and they went to meat, and as they had sat at the beginning of the feast, so sat they there. and matholwch and bendigeid vran began to discourse; and behold it seemed to bendigeid vran, while they talked, that matholwch was not so cheerful as he had been before. and he thought that the chieftain might be sad because of the smallness of the atonement which he had, for the wrong that had been done him. "oh man," said bendigeid vran, "thou dost not discourse to-night so cheerfully as thou wert wont. and if it be because of the smallness of the atonement, thou shalt add thereunto whatsoever thou mayest choose, and to-morrow i will pay thee the horses." "lord," said he, "heaven reward thee." "and i will enhance the atonement," said bendigeid vran, "for i will give unto thee a cauldron, the property of which is, that if one of thy men be slain to-day, and be cast therein, to-morrow he will be as well as ever he was at the best, except that he will not regain his speech." and thereupon he gave him great thanks, and very joyful was he for that cause. and the next morning they paid matholwch the horses as long as the trained horses lasted. and then they journeyed into another commot, where they paid him with colts until the whole had been paid, and from thenceforth that commot was called talebolion. {picture: p46.jpg} and a second night sat they together. "my lord," said matholwch, "whence hadst thou the cauldron which thou hast given me?" "i had it of a man who had been in thy land," said he, "and i would not give it except to one from there." {45} "who was it?" asked he. "llassar llaesgyvnewid; he came here from ireland, with kymideu kymeinvoll, his wife, who escaped from the iron house in ireland, when it was made red hot around them, and fled hither. and it is a marvel to me that thou shouldst know nothing concerning the matter." "something i do know," said he, "and as much as i know i will tell thee. one day i was hunting in ireland, and i came to the mound at the head of the lake, which is called the lake of the cauldron. and i beheld a huge yellow-haired man coming from the lake with a cauldron upon his back. and he was a man of vast size, and of horrid aspect, and a woman followed after him. and if the man was tall, twice as large as he was the woman, and they came towards me and greeted me. 'verily,' asked i, 'wherefore are you journeying?' 'behold this,' said he to me, 'is the cause that we journey. at the end of a month and a fortnight this woman will have a son; and the child that will be born at the end of the month and the fortnight will be a warrior fully armed.' so i took them with me, and maintained them. and they were with me for a year. and that year i had them with me not grudgingly. but thenceforth was there murmuring, because that they were with me. for from the beginning of the fourth month they had begun to make themselves hated and to be disorderly in the land; committing outrages, and molesting and harassing the nobles and ladies; and thenceforward my people rose up and besought me to part with them, and they bade me to choose between them and my dominions. and i applied to the council of my country to know what should be done concerning them; for of their own free will they would not go, neither could they be compelled against their will, through fighting. and [the people of the country,] being in this strait, they caused a chamber to be made all of iron. now when the chamber was ready, there came there every smith that was in ireland, and every one who owned tongs and hammer. and they caused coals to be piled up as high as the top of the chamber. and they had the man, and the woman, and the children, served with plenty of meat and drink; but when it was known that they were drunk, they began to put fire to the coals about the chamber, and they blew it with bellows until the house was red hot all around them. then was there a council held in the centre of the floor of the chamber. and the man tarried until the plates of iron were all of a white heat; and then, by reason of the great heat, the man dashed against the plates with his shoulder and struck them out, and his wife followed him; but except him and his wife none escaped thence. and then i suppose, lord," said matholwch unto bendigeid vran, "that he came over unto thee." "doubtless he came here," said he, "and gave unto me the cauldron." "in what manner didst thou receive them?" "i dispersed them through every part of my dominions, and they have become numerous and are prospering everywhere, and they fortify the places where they are with men and arms, of the best that were ever seen." that night they continued to discourse as much as they would, and had minstrelsy and carousing, and when it was more pleasant to them to sleep than to sit longer, they went to rest. and thus was the banquet carried on with joyousness; and when it was finished, matholwch journeyed towards ireland, and branwen with him, and they went from aber menei, with thirteen ships and came to ireland. and in ireland was there great joy because of their coming. and not one great man or noble lady visited branwen unto whom she gave not either a clasp, or a ring, or a royal jewel to keep, such as it was honourable to be seen departing with. and in these things she spent that year in much renown, and she passed her time pleasant, enjoying honour and friendship. and in the meanwhile, it chanced that she became pregnant, and in due time a son was born unto her, and the name that they gave him was gwern the son of matholwch, and they put the boy out to be foster-nursed, in a place where were the best men of ireland. and behold in the second year a tumult arose in ireland, on account of the insult which matholwch had received in wales, and the payment made him for his horses. and his foster-brothers, and such as were nearest unto him, blamed him openly {48a} for that matter. and he might have no peace by reason of the tumult until they should revenge upon him this disgrace. and the vengeance which they took was to drive away branwen from the same chamber with him, and to make her cook {48b} for the court; and they caused the butcher, after he had cut up the meat, to come to her and give her every day a blow on the ear, and such they made her punishment. "verily, lord," said his men to matholwch, "forbid now the ships and the ferry boats and the coracles, that they go not into wales, and such as come over from wales hither, imprison them that they go not back for this thing to be known there." and they did so; and it was thus for no less than three years. {picture: p49.jpg} and branwen reared a starling in the cover of the kneading trough, and she taught it to speak, and she taught the bird what manner of man her brother was. and she wrote a letter of her woes, and the despite with which she was treated, and she bound the letter to the root of the bird's wing, and sent it towards wales. and the bird came to this island, and one day it found bendigeid vran at caer seiont in arvon, conferring there, and it alighted upon his shoulder and ruffled its feathers, so that the letter was seen, and they knew that the bird had been reared in a domestic manner. then bendigeid vran took the letter and looked upon it. and when he had read the letter, he grieved exceedingly at the tidings of branwen's woes. and immediately he began sending messengers to summon the island together. and he caused seven score and four countries to come unto him, and he complained to them himself of the grief that his sister endured. so they took counsel. and in the counsel they resolved to go to ireland, and to leave seven men as princes here. and caradawc the son of bran, as the chief of them, and their seven knights. in edeyrnion, were these men left. and for this reason were the seven knights placed in the town. {50a} now the names of these seven were caradawc the son of bran, and heveydd hir, and unic glew ysgwyd, and iddic the son of anarawc gwalltgrwn, and fodor the son of ervyll, and gwlch minascwrn, and llassar the son of llaesar llaesgygwyd, and pendaran dyved as a young page with them. and these abode as seven ministers to take charge of this island; and caradawc the son of bran was the chief amongst them. bendigeid vran, with the hosts of which we spoke, sailed towards ireland, and it was not far across the sea, and he came to shoal water. it was but by two rivers; the lli and the archan were they called; and the nations covered the sea. {50b} then he proceeded with what provisions he had on his own back, and approached the shore of ireland. now the swineherds of matholwch were upon the sea shore, and they came to matholwch. "lord," said they, "greeting be unto thee." "heaven protect you," said he, "have you any news?" "lord," said they, "we have marvellous news; a wood have we seen upon the sea, in a place where we never yet saw a single tree." "this is indeed a marvel," said he; "saw you aught else?" "we saw, lord," said they, "a vast mountain beside 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 aught concerning this, unless it be branwen." messengers then went unto branwen. "lady," said they, "what thinkest thou that this is?" "the men of the island of the mighty, who have come hither on hearing of my ill treatment and my woes." "what is the forest that is seen upon the sea?" asked they. "the yards and the masts of ships," she answered. "alas," said they, "what is the mountain that is seen by the side of the ships?" "bendigeid vran, my brother," she replied, "coming to shoal water; there is no ship that can contain him in it." "what is the lofty ridge with the lake on each side thereof?" "on looking towards this island he is wroth, and his two eyes on each side of his nose are the two lakes on each side of the ridge." the warriors and chief men of ireland were brought together in haste, and they took counsel. "lord," said the nobles unto matholwch, "there is no other counsel than to retreat over the linon, (a river which is {52a} in ireland,) and to keep the river between thee and him, and to break down the bridge that is across the river, for there is a load-stone at the bottom of the river that neither ship nor vessel can pass over." so they retreated across the river, and broke down the bridge. bendigeid vran came to land, and the fleet with him by the bank of the river. "lord," said his chieftains, "knowest thou the nature of this river, that nothing can go across it, and there is no bridge over it?" "what," said they, "is thy counsel concerning a bridge?" "there is none," said he, "except that he who will be chief let him be a bridge. i will be so," said he. and then was that saying first uttered, and it is still used as a proverb. and when he had lain down across the river, hurdles were placed upon him, and the host passed over thereby. and as he rose up, behold the messengers of matholwch came to him, and saluted him, and gave him greeting in the name of matholwch, his kinsman, and showed how that of his good will he had merited of him nothing but good. "for matholwch has given the kingdom of ireland to gwern the son of matholwch, thy nephew and thy sister's son. and this he places before thee, as a compensation for the wrong and despite that has been done unto branwen. and matholwch shall be maintained wheresoever thou wilt, either here or in the island of the mighty." said bendigeid vran, "shall not i myself have the kingdom? {52b} then peradventure i may take counsel concerning your message. from this time until then no other answer will you get from me." "verily," said they, "the best message that we receive for thee, we will convey it unto thee, and do thou await our message unto him." "i will wait," answered he, "and do you return quickly." the messengers set forth and came to matholwch. "lord," said they, "prepare a better message 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, "there is no other counsel than this alone. he was never known to be within a house, make therefore a house that will contain him and the men of the island of the mighty on the one side, and thyself and thy host on the other; and give over thy kingdom to his will, and do him homage. so by reason of the honour thou doest him in making him a house, whereas he never before had a house to contain him, he will make peace with thee." so the messengers went back to bendigeid vran, bearing him this message. and he took counsel, and in the council it was resolved that he should accept this, and this was all done by the advice of branwen, and lest the country should be destroyed. and this peace was made, and the house was built both vast and strong. but 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 them. 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," said he. 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 in the brain through the bone. and he left that one and put his hand upon another, and asked what was therein? "meal," said the irishman. so he did the like unto every one of them, until he had not left alive of all the two hundred men save one only; and when he came to him, he asked what was there? "meal, good soul," said the irishman. and he felt about until he felt the head, and he squeezed that head as he had done the others. and albeit he found that the head of this one was armed, he left him not until he had killed him. and then he sang an englyn,- "there is in this bag a different sort of meal, the ready combatant, when the assault is made by his fellow warriors, prepared for battle." thereupon came the hosts unto the house. the men of the island of ireland entered the house on the one side, and the men of the island of the mighty on the other. and as soon as they had sat down, there was concord between them; and the sovereignty was conferred upon the boy. when the peace was concluded, bendigeid vran called the boy unto him, and from bendigeid vran the boy went unto manawyddan, and he was beloved by all that beheld him. and from manawyddan the boy was called by nissyen the son of eurosswydd, and the boy went unto him lovingly. "wherefore," said evnissyen, "comes not my nephew the son of my sister unto me? though he were not king of ireland, yet willingly would i fondle the boy." "cheerfully let him go to thee," said bendigeid vran, and the boy went unto him cheerfully. "by my confession to heaven," said evnissyen in his heart, "unthought of by the household is the slaughter that i will this instant commit." then he 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 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. then said morddwydtyllyon, "the gadflies of morddwydtyllyon's cow!" and while they all sought their arms, bendigeid vran supported branwen between his shield and his shoulder. 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. then when evnissyen saw the dead bodies of the men 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 into so great a strait. evil betide me if i find not a deliverance 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, flung him into the cauldron. and he stretched himself out in the cauldron, so that he rent the cauldron into four pieces, and burst his own heart also. in consequence of that, the men of the island of the mighty obtained such success as they had; but they were not victorious, for only seven men of them all escaped, and bendigeid vran himself was wounded in the foot with a poisoned dart. now the seven men that escaped were pryderi, manawyddan, gluneu {56a} eil taran, taliesin, ynawc, grudyen {56b} the son of muryel, and heilyn the son of gwynn hen. and bendigeid vran commanded them that they should cut off his head. "and take you my head," said he, "and bear it even unto the white mount, in london, and bury it there, with the face towards france. and a long time will you be upon the road. in harlech 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 pleasant company as it ever was when on my body. and at gwales in penvro you will be fourscore years, and you may remain there, and the head with you uncorrupted, until you open the door that looks towards aber henvelen, and towards cornwall. and after you have opened that door, there you may no longer tarry, set forth then to london to bury the head and go straight forward." 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, in talebolyon, and they 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 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 went behold there met them a multitude of men and of women. "have you any tidings?" asked manawyddan. "we have none," said they, "save that caswallawn, 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. caswallawn had flung upon him the veil of illusion, 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. pendaran dyved, who had remained as a young page with these men, escaped into the wood," said they. then they went on to harlech, and there stopped to rest, and they provided meat and liquor, and sat down to eat and to drink. and there came three birds, and began singing unto them a certain 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 repast they continued seven years. and 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 spacious hall was therein. and they went into the hall, and two of its doors were open, but the third door was closed, that which looked towards cornwall. "see, yonder," said manawyddan, "is the door that we may not open." and that night they regaled themselves and were joyful. and of all they had seen of food laid before them, and of all they had heard of, they remembered nothing; neither of that, nor of any sorrow whatsoever. and there they remained fourscore years, unconscious of having ever spent a time more joyous and mirthful. and they were not more weary than when first they came, neither did they, any of them, 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. and because of these fourscore years, it was called the entertaining of the noble head. the entertaining of branwen and matholwch was in the time that they went to ireland. 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 is said concerning it." so he opened the door and looked towards cornwall 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 companions they had lost, and of all the misery that had befallen them, as if all had happened in that very spot; {59a} and especially of the fate of their lord. and because of their perturbation they could not rest, {59b} but journeyed forth with the head towards london. and they buried the head in the white mount, and when it was buried, this was the third goodly concealment; and it was the third ill-fated disclosure when it was disinterred, inasmuch as no invasion from across the sea came to this island, while the head was in that concealment. and thus is the story related of those who journeyed over from ireland. in ireland none were left alive, except five pregnant women in a cave in the irish wilderness; and to these five women in the same night were born five sons, whom they nursed until they became grown up youths. and they thought about wives, and they at the same time desired to possess them, and each took a wife of the mothers of their companions, and they governed the country and peopled it. and these five divided it amongst them, and because of this partition are the five divisions of ireland still so termed. and they examined the land where the battles had taken place, and they found gold and silver until they became wealthy. and thus ends this portion of the mabinogi, concerning the blow given to branwen, which was the third unhappy blow of this island; and concerning the entertainment of bran, when the hosts of sevenscore countries and ten went over to ireland, to revenge the blow given to branwen; and concerning the seven years' banquet in harlech, and the singing of the birds of rhiannon, and the sojourning of the head for the space of fourscore years. {picture: p60.jpg} manawyddan the son of llyr. {picture: p61.jpg} when the seven men of whom we spoke above, had buried the head of bendigeid vran, in the white mount in london, with its face towards france, manawyddan gazed upon the town of london, and upon his companions, and heaved a great sigh, and much grief and heaviness came upon him. "alas, almighty heaven, woe is me," he exclaimed, "there is none save myself without 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, thou hast never been a claimant of land or possessions. thou art the third disinherited {62a} prince." "yea," answered he, "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?" {62b} said pryderi. "i stand in need of counsel," he answered, "and what may that counsel be?" "seven cantrevs remain unto me," said pryderi, "wherein rhiannon my mother dwells, i will bestow her upon thee and the seven cantrevs with her, and though thou hadst no possessions but those cantrevs only, thou couldst not have seven cantrevs fairer than they. kicva, the daughter of gwynn gloyw, is my wife, and since the inheritance of the cantrevs belongs to me, do thou and rhiannon enjoy them, and if thou ever desire any possessions thou wilt take these." "i do not, chieftain," said he; "heaven reward thee for thy friendship." "i would show thee the best friendship in the world if thou wouldst let me." "i will, my friend," said he, "and heaven reward thee. i will go with thee to seek rhiannon and to look at thy possessions." "thou wilt do well," he answered. "and i believe that thou didst never hear a lady discourse better than she, and when she was in her prime none was ever fairer. even now her aspect is not uncomely." {62c} they set forth, and, however long the journey, they came at length to dyved, and a feast was prepared for them against their coming to narberth, which rhiannon and kicva had provided. then began manawyddan and rhiannon to sit and to talk together, and from their discourse his mind and his thoughts became warmed towards her, and he thought in his heart he had never beheld any lady more fulfilled 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 will i gladly abide," said rhiannon. "right glad am i also," said manawyddan, "may heaven reward him who hath shewn unto me friendship so perfect as this." and before the feast was over she became his bride. said pwyll, "tarry ye here the rest of the feast, and i will go into england to tender my homage unto caswallawn the son of beli." "lord," said rhiannon, "caswallawn is in kent, thou mayest therefore tarry at the feast, and wait until he shall be nearer." "we will wait," he answered. so they finished the feast. and they began to make the circuit of dyved and to hunt, and to take their pleasure. and as they went through the country, they had never seen lands more pleasant to live in, nor better hunting grounds, nor greater plenty of honey and fish. and such was the friendship between those four, that they would not be parted from each other by night nor by day. and in the midst of all this he went to caswallawn at oxford, and tendered his homage; and honourable 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. and they began a feast at narberth, for it was the chief palace; and there originated all honour. and when they had ended the first meal that night, while those who served them eat, they arose and went forth, and proceeded all four to the gorsedd of narberth, and their retinue with them. and as they sat thus, behold a peal of thunder, and with the violence of the thunderstorm, lo there came a fall of mist, so thick that not one of them could see the other. and after the mist it became light all around. and when they looked towards the place where they were wont to see cattle, and herds, and dwellings, they saw nothing now, neither house, nor beast, nor smoke, nor fire, nor man, nor dwelling; but the houses of the court empty, and desert, and uninhabited, without either man, or beast within them. and truly all their companions were lost to them, without their knowing aught of what had befallen them, save those four only. "in the name of heaven," cried manawyddan, "where are they of the court, and all my host beside these? let us go and see." so they came into the hall, and there was no man; and they went on to the castle, and to the sleeping-place, and they saw none; and in the mead-cellar and in the kitchen there was nought but desolation. so they four feasted, and hunted, and took their pleasure. then they began to go through the land and all the possessions that they had, and they visited the houses and dwellings, and found nothing but wild beasts. and when they had consumed their feast and all their provisions, they fed upon the prey they killed in hunting, {65} and the honey of the wild swarms. and thus they passed the first year pleasantly, and the second; but at the last they began to be weary. "verily," said manawyddan, "we must not bide thus. let us go into england, and seek some craft whereby we may gain our support." so they went into england, and came as far as hereford. and they betook themselves to making saddles. and manawyddan began to make housings, and he gilded and coloured them with blue enamel, in the manner that he had seen it done by llasar llaesgywydd. and he made the blue enamel as it was made by the other man. and therefore is it still called calch lassar, [blue enamel,] because llassar llaesgywydd had wrought it. {picture: p65.jpg} and as long as that workmanship could be had of manawyddan, neither saddle nor housing was bought of a saddler throughout all hereford; till at length every one of the saddlers perceived that they were losing much of their gain, and that no man bought of them, but he who could not get what he sought from manawyddan. then they assembled together, and agreed to slay him and his companions. now they received warning of this, and 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 with 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 they four went to another city. "what craft shall we take?" said pryderi. "we will make shields," said manawyddan. "do we know anything about that craft?" said pryderi. "we will try," answered he. there they began to make shields, and fashioned them after the shape of the good shields they had seen; and they enamelled them, as they had done the saddles. and they prospered in that place, so that not a shield was asked for in the whole town, but such as was had of them. rapid therefore was their work, and numberless were the shields they made. but at last they were marked by the craftsmen, who came together in haste, and their fellow-townsmen with them, and agreed that they should seek to slay them. but they received warning, and heard how the men had resolved on their destruction. "pryderi," said manawyddan, "these men desire to slay us." "let us not endure this from these boors, but let us rather fall upon them and slay them." "not so," he answered, "caswallawn and his men will hear of it, and we shall be undone. let us go to another town." so to another town they went. "what craft shall we take?" said manawyddan. "whatsoever thou wilt that we know," said pryderi. "not so," he replied, "but let us take to making shoes, for there is not courage among cordwainers either to fight with us or to molest us." "i know nothing thereof," said pryderi. "but i know," answered manawyddan; "and i will teach thee 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 he 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 goldsmith 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 the three makers of gold shoes; and, when they could be had from him, not a shoe nor hose was bought of any of the cordwainers in the town. but when the cordwainers perceived that their gains were failing, (for as manawyddan shaped the work, so pryderi stitched it,) 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 boorish thieves?" said pryderi. "rather let us slay them all." "not so," said manawyddan, "we will not slay them, neither will we remain in england any longer. let us set forth to dyved and go to see it." so they journeyed along until they came to dyved, and they went forward to narberth. and there they kindled a fire and supported themselves by hunting. and thus they spent a month. and they gathered their dogs around them, and tarried there one year. {picture: p68.jpg} and 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 before them and came to a small bush which was near at hand; but as soon as they were come to the bush, they hastily drew back and returned to the men, their hair bristling up greatly. "let us go near to the bush," said pryderi, "and see what is in it." and as they came near, behold, a wild boar of a pure white colour 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 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 him 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 finding a castle in a place where they had never before then seen any building whatsoever. and from the top of the gorsedd they looked and listened for the dogs. but so long as they were there they heard not one of the dogs nor aught concerning them. "lord," said pryderi, "i will go into the castle to get tidings of the dogs." "truly," he replied, "thou wouldst be unwise to go into this castle, which thou hast never seen till now. if thou wouldst follow my counsel, thou wouldst not enter therein. whosoever has cast a spell over this land, has caused this castle to be here." "of a truth," answered pryderi, "i cannot thus give up my dogs." and for all the counsel that manawyddan gave him, yet to the castle he went. when he came within the castle, neither man nor beast, nor boar nor dogs, nor house nor dwelling saw he within it. but in the centre of the castle floor he beheld a fountain with marble work around it, and on the margin of the fountain a golden bowl upon a marble slab, and chains hanging from the air, 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 joyousness forsook him, so that he could not utter a word. and thus he stood. and manawyddan waited for him till near the close of the day. and late in the evening, being certain that he should have no tidings of pryderi or of the dogs, he went back to the palace. and as he entered, rhiannon looked at him, "where," said she, "are thy companion and thy dogs?" "behold," he answered, "the adventure that has befallen me." and he related it all unto her. "an evil companion hast thou been," said rhiannon, "and a good companion hast thou lost." and with that word she went out, and proceeded towards the castle according to the direction which he gave her. the gate of the castle she found open. she was nothing daunted, and she went in. and as she went in, she perceived pryderi laying hold of the bowl, and she went towards him. "oh my lord," said she, "what dost thou here?" and she took hold of the bowl with him; and as she did so, her hands also became fast to the bowl, and her feet to the slab, and she was not able to utter a word. and with that, as it became night, lo there came thunder upon them, and a fall of mist, and thereupon the castle vanished, and they with it. when kicva the daughter of gwynn gloew saw that there was no one in the palace but herself and manawyddan, she sorrowed so that she cared not whether she lived or died. and manawyddan saw this. "thou art in the wrong," said he, "if through fear of me thou grievest thus. i call heaven to witness that thou hast never seen friendship more pure than that which i will bear thee, as long as heaven will that thou shouldst be thus. i declare to thee that were i in the dawn of youth i would keep my faith unto pryderi, and unto thee also will i keep it. be there no fear upon thee, therefore," said he, "for heaven is my witness that thou shall meet with all the friendship thou canst wish, and that it is in my power to show thee, as long as it shall please heaven to continue us in this grief and woe." "heaven reward thee," she said, "and that is what i deemed of thee." and the damsel thereupon took courage and was glad. "truly, lady," said manawyddan, "it is not fitting for us to stay here, we have lost our dogs, and we cannot get food. let us go into england; it is easiest for us to find support there." "gladly, lord," said she, "we will do so." and they set forth together to england. "lord," said she, "what craft wilt thou follow? take up one that is seemly." "none other will i take," answered he, "save that of making shoes, as i did formerly." "lord," said she, "such a craft becomes not a man so nobly born as thou." "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 the town, and, as he had done at the other place, he caused gilded clasps to be made for the shoes. {71} and except himself all the cordwainers in the town were idle, 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, and took counsel concerning him. and he had warning thereof, and it was told him how the cordwainers had agreed together to slay him. "lord," said kicva, "wherefore should this be borne from these boors?" "nay," said he, "we will go back unto dyved." so towards dyved they set forth. now manawyddan, when he set out to return to dyved, took with him a burden of wheat. and he proceeded towards narberth, and there he dwelt. and never was he better pleased than when he saw narberth again, and the lands where he had been wont to hunt with pryderi and with rhiannon. and he accustomed himself to fish, and to hunt the deer in their covert. and then he began to prepare some ground and he sowed a croft, and a second, and a third. and no wheat in the world ever sprung up better. and the three crofts prospered with perfect growth, and no man ever saw fairer wheat than it. and thus passed the seasons of the year until the harvest came. and he went to look at one of his crofts, and behold it was ripe. "i will reap this to-morrow," said he. and that night he went back to narberth, and on the morrow in the grey dawn he went to reap the croft, and when he came there he found nothing but the bare straw. every one of the ears of the wheat was cut from off the stalk, and all the ears carried entirely away, and nothing but the straw left. and at this he marvelled greatly. then he went to look at another croft, and behold that also was ripe. "verily," said he, "this will i reap to-morrow." and on the morrow he came with the intent to reap it, and when he came there he found nothing but the bare straw. "oh gracious heaven," he exclaimed, "i know that whosoever has begun my ruin is completing it, and has also destroyed the country with me." then he went to look at the third croft, and when he came there, finer wheat had there never been seen, and this also was ripe. "evil betide me," said he, "if i watch not here to-night. whoever carried off the other corn will come in like manner to take this. and i will know who it is." so he took his arms, and began to watch the croft. and he told kicva all that had befallen. "verily," said she, "what thinkest thou to do?" "i will watch the croft to-night," said he. and he went to watch the croft. and at midnight, lo! there arose the loudest tumult in the world. and he looked, and behold the mightiest host of mice in the world, which could neither be numbered nor measured. and he knew not what it was until the mice had made their way into the croft, and each of them climbing up the straw and bending it down with its weight, and had cut off one of the ears of wheat, and had carried it away, leaving there the stalk, and he saw not a single straw there that had not a mouse to it. and they all took their way, carrying the ears with them. 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 in the air, except one only, which though it was but sluggish, went so fast that a man on foot could scarce overtake it. {73} 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 thief may it be, lord, that thou couldst put into thy 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 the fields in his sight. "and one of them was less nimble than the rest, and is now in my glove; to-morrow i will hang it, and before heaven, if i had them, i would hang them all." "my lord," said she, "this is marvellous; but yet it would be unseemly for a man of dignity like thee to be hanging such a reptile as this. and if thou doest right, thou wilt not meddle with the creature, but wilt let it go." "woe betide me," said he, "if i would not hang them all could i catch them, and such as i have i will hang." "verily, lord," said she, "there is no reason that i should succour this reptile, except to prevent discredit unto thee. do therefore, lord, as thou wilt." "if i knew of any cause in the world wherefore thou shouldst succour it, i would take thy counsel concerning it," said manawyddan, "but as i know of none, lady, i am minded to destroy it." "do so willingly then," said she. and then he went to the gorsedd of narberth, taking the mouse with him. and he set up two forks on the highest part of the gorsedd. and while he was doing this, behold he saw a scholar coming towards him, in old and poor 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." "heaven prosper thee, and my greeting be unto thee. and whence dost thou come, scholar?" asked he. "i come, lord, from singing in england; and wherefore dost thou enquire?" "because for the last seven years," answered he, "i have seen no man here save four secluded persons, and thyself this moment." "truly, lord," said he, "i go through this land unto mine own. and what work art thou upon, lord?" "i am hanging a thief that i caught robbing me," said he. "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 equal to thine, to touch a reptile such as this. let it go forth free." "i will not let it go free, by heaven," said he; "i caught it robbing me, and the doom of a thief will i inflict upon it and i will hang it." "lord," said he, "rather than see a man of rank equal to thine at such a work as this, i would 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." "as thou wilt, lord," he answered, "except that i would not see a man of rank equal to thine touching such a reptile, i care nought." and the scholar went his way. and as he was placing the cross-beam upon the two forks, behold a priest came towards him upon a horse covered with trappings. "good day to thee, lord," said he. "heaven prosper thee," said manawyddan; "thy blessing." "the blessing of heaven be upon thee. and what, lord, art thou doing?" "i am hanging a thief that i caught robbing me," said he. "what manner of thief, lord?" asked he. "a creature," he answered, "in form of a mouse. it has been robbing me, and i am inflicting upon it the doom of a thief." "lord," said he, "rather than see thee touch this reptile, i would purchase its freedom." "by my confession to heaven, neither will i sell it nor set it free." "it is true, lord, that it is worth nothing to buy; but rather than see thee defile thyself by touching such a reptile as this, i will give thee three pounds to let it go." "i will not, by heaven," said he, "take any price for it. as it ought, so shall it be hanged." "willingly, lord, do thy good pleasure." and the priest went his way. then he noosed the string around the mouse's neck, and as he was about to draw it up, behold, he saw a bishop's retinue, with his sumpter-horses, and his attendants. and the bishop himself came towards him. and he stayed his work. "lord bishop," said he, "thy blessing." "heaven's blessing be unto thee," said he, "what work art thou upon?" "hanging a thief that i caught robbing me," said he. "is not that a mouse that i see in thy hand?" "yes," answered he. "and she has robbed me." "aye," said he, "since i have come at the doom of this reptile i will ransom it of thee. i will give thee seven pounds for it, and that rather than see a man of rank equal to thine destroying so vile a reptile as this. let it loose and thou shall have the money." "i declare to heaven that i will not set it loose." "if thou wilt not loose it for this, i will give thee four and twenty pounds of ready money to set it free." "i will not set it free, by heaven, for as much again," said he. "if thou wilt not set it free for this, 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." "by heaven, i will not," he replied. "since for this thou wilt not, do so at what price soever thou wilt." "i will do so," said he. "i will that rhiannon and pryderi be free," said he. "that thou shall have," he answered. "not yet will i loose the mouse, by heaven." "what then wouldst thou?" "that the charm and the illusion be removed from the seven cantrevs of dyved." "this shall thou have also, 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." "even though she be, i will not set her free. wherefore came she to me?" "to despoil thee," he answered. "i am llwyd the son of kilcoed, and i cast the charm over the seven cantrevs of dyved. and it was to avenge gwawl the son of clud, from the friendship i had towards him, that i cast the charm. and upon pryderi did i revenge gwawl the son of clud, for the game of badger in the bag, that pwyll pen annwn played upon him, which he did unadvisedly in the court of heveydd hen. and when it was known that thou wast come to dwell in the land, my household came and besought me to transform them into mice, that they might destroy thy corn. and it was my own household that went the first night. and the second night also they went, and they destroyed thy two crofts. and the third night came unto me my wife and the ladies of the court, and besought me to transform them. and i transformed them. now she is pregnant. and had she not been pregnant thou wouldst not have been able to overtake her, but since this has taken place and she has been caught, i will restore thee pryderi and rhiannon; and i will take the charm and illusion from off dyved. i have now told thee who she is. set her therefore free." "i will not set her free, by heaven," said he. "what wilt thou more?" he asked. "i will that there be no more charm upon the seven cantrevs of dyved, and that none shall be put upon it henceforth." "this thou shalt have," said he. "now set her free." "i will not by my faith," he answered. "what wilt thou furthermore," asked he. "behold," said he, "this will i have; that vengeance be never taken for this, either upon pryderi or rhiannon, or upon me." "all this shalt thou have. and truly thou hast done wisely in asking this. upon thy head would have lit all this trouble." "yea," said he, "for fear thereof was it, that i required this." "set now my wife at liberty." "i will not, by heaven," said he, "until i see pryderi and rhiannon with me free." "behold, here they come," he answered. and thereupon behold pryderi and rhiannon. and he rose up to meet them, and greeted them, and sat down beside them. "ah chieftain, set now my wife at liberty," said the bishop. "hast thou not received all thou didst ask?" "i will release her gladly," said he. and thereupon he set her free. then he struck her with a magic wand, and she was changed back into a young woman, the fairest ever seen. "look around upon thy land," said he, "and then thou wilt see it all tilled and peopled, as it was in its best state." and he rose up and looked forth. and when he looked he saw all the lands tilled, and full of herds and dwellings. "what bondage," he enquired, "has there been upon pryderi and rhiannon?" "pryderi has had the knockers of the gate of my palace about his neck, and rhiannon has had the collars of the asses, after they have been carrying hay, about her neck." and such had been their bondage. and by reason of this bondage is this story called the mabinogi of mynnweir and mynord. {79} and thus ends this portion of the mabinogi. {picture: p79.jpg} math the son of mathonwy. {picture: p80.jpg} math the son of mathonwy was lord over gwynedd, and pryderi the son of pwyll was lord over the one and twenty cantrevs of the south; and these were the seven cantrevs of dyved, and the seven cantrevs of morganwc, the four cantrevs of ceredigiawn, and the three of ystrad tywi. at that time, math the son of mathonwy could not exist unless his feet were in the lap of a maiden, except only when he was prevented by the tumult of war. now the maiden who was with him was goewin, the daughter of pebin of dol pebin, in arvon, and she was the fairest maiden of her time who was known there. and math dwelt always at caer dathyl, in arvon, and was not able to go the circuit of the land, but gilvaethwy the son of don, and eneyd {81} the son of don, his nephews, the sons of his sister, with his household, went the circuit of the land in his stead. now the maiden was with math continually, and gilvaethwy the son of don set his affections upon her, and loved her so that he knew not what he should do because of her, and therefrom behold his hue, and his aspect, and his spirits changed for love of her, so that it was not easy to know him. one day his brother gwydion gazed steadfastly upon him. "youth," said he, "what aileth thee?" "why," replied he, "what seest thou in me?" "i see," said he, "that thou hast lost thy aspect and thy hue; what, therefore, aileth thee?" "my lord, brother," he answered, "that which aileth me, it will not profit me that i should own to any." "what may it be, my soul?" said he. "thou knowest," he said, "that math the son of mathonwy has this property, that if men whisper together, in a tone how low soever, if the wind meet it, it becomes known unto him." "yes," said gwydyon, "hold now thy peace, i know thy intent, thou lovest goewin." when he found that his brother knew his intent, he gave the heaviest sigh in the world. "be silent, my soul, and sigh not," he said. "it is not thereby that thou wilt succeed. i will cause," said he, "if it cannot be otherwise, the rising of gwynedd, and powys, and deheubarth, to seek the maiden. be thou of glad cheer therefore, and i will compass it." so they went unto math the son of mathonwy. "lord," said gwydion, "i have heard that there have come to the south some beasts, such as were never known in this island before." "what are they called?" he asked. "pigs, lord." "and what kind of animals are they?" "they are small animals, and their flesh is better than the flesh of oxen." "they are small then?" "and they change their names. swine are they now called." "who owneth them?" "pryderi the son of pwyll; they were sent him from annwn, by arawn the king of annwn, and still they keep that name, half hog, half pig." "verily," asked he, "and by what means may they be obtained from him?" "i will go, lord, as one of twelve in the guise of bards, to seek the swine." "but it may be that he will refuse you," said he. "my journey will not be evil, lord," said he, "i will not come back without the swine." "gladly," said he, "go thou forward." so he and gilvaethwy went, and ten other men with them. and they came into ceredigiawn, to the place that is now called rhuddlan teivi, where the palace of pryderi was. in the guise of bards they came in, and they were received joyfully, and gwydion was placed beside pryderi that night. "of a truth," said pryderi, "gladly would i have a tale from some of your men yonder." "lord," said gwydion, "we have a custom that the first night that we come to the court of a great man, the chief of song recites. gladly will i relate a tale." now gwydion was the best teller of tales in the world, and he diverted all the court that night with pleasant discourse and with tales, so that he charmed every one in the court, and it pleased pryderi to talk with him. and after this, "lord," said he unto pryderi, "were it more pleasing to thee, that another should discharge my errand unto thee, than that i should tell thee myself what it is?" "no," he answered, "ample speech hast thou." "behold, then, lord," said he, "my errand. it is to crave from thee the animals that were sent thee from annwn." "verily," he replied, "that were the easiest thing in the world to grant, were there not a covenant between me and my land concerning them. and the covenant is that they shall not go from me, until they have produced double their number in the land." "lord," said he, "i can set thee free from these words, and this is the way i can do so; give me not the swine to-night, neither refuse them unto me, and to-morrow i will show thee an exchange for them." and that night he and his fellows went unto their lodging, and they took counsel. "ah, my men," said he, "we shall not have the swine for the asking." "well," said they, "how may they be obtained?" "i will cause them to be obtained," said gwydion. then he betook himself to his arts, and began to work a charm. and he caused twelve chargers to appear, and twelve black greyhounds, each of them white breasted, and having upon them twelve collars and twelve leashes, such as no one that saw them could know to be other than gold. and upon the horses twelve saddles, and every part which should have been of iron was entirely of gold, and the bridles were of the same workmanship. and with the horses and the dogs he came to pryderi. {picture: p84.jpg} "good day unto thee, lord," said he. "heaven prosper thee," said the other, "and greetings be unto thee." "lord," said he, "behold here is a release for thee from the word which thou spakest last evening concerning the swine; that thou wouldest neither give nor sell them. thou mayest exchange them for that which is better. and i will give these twelve horses, all caparisoned as they are, with their saddles and their bridles, and these twelve greyhounds, with their collars and their leashes as thou seest, and the twelve gilded shields that thou beholdest yonder." now these he had formed of fungus. "well," said he, "we will take counsel." and they consulted together, and determined to give the swine to gwydion, and to take his horses and his dogs and his shields. then gwydion and his men took their leave, and began to journey forth with the pigs. "ah, my comrades," said gwydion, "it is needful that we journey with speed. the illusion will not last but from the one hour to the same to-morrow." and that night they journeyed as far as the upper part of ceredigiawn, to the place which, from that cause, is called mochdrev still. and the next day they took their course through melenydd, and came that night to the town which is likewise for that reason called mochdrev, between keri and arwystli. and thence they journeyed forward; and that night they came as far as that commot in powys, which also upon account thereof is called mochnant, and there tarried they that night. and they journeyed thence to the cantrev of rhos, and the place where they were that night is still called mochdrev. "my men," said gwydion, "we must push forward to the fastnesses of gwynedd with these animals, for there is a gathering of hosts in pursuit of us." so they journeyed on to the highest town of arllechwedd, and there they made a sty for the swine, and therefore was the name of creuwyryon given to that town. and after they had made the sty for the swine, they proceeded to math the son of mathonwy, at caerdathyl. and when they came there, the country was rising. "what news is there here?" asked gwydion. "pryderi is assembling one and twenty cantrevs to pursue after you," answered they. "it is marvellous that you should have journeyed so slowly." "where are the animals whereof you went in quest?" said math. "they have had a sty made for them in the other cantrev below," said gwydion. thereupon, lo! they heard the trumpets and the host in the land, and they arrayed themselves and set forward and came to penardd in arvon. and at night gwydion the son of don, and gilvaethwy his brother, returned to caerdathyl; and gilvaethwy took math the son of mathonwy's couch. and while he turned out the other damsels from the room discourteously, he made goewin unwillingly remain. and when they saw the day on the morrow, they went back unto the place where math the son of mathonwy was with his host; and when they came there, the warriors were taking counsel in what district they should await the coming of pryderi, and the men of the south. so they went in to the council. and it was resolved to wait in the strongholds of gwynedd, in arvon. so within the two maenors they took their stand, maenor penardd and maenor coed alun. and there pryderi attacked them, and there the combat took place. and great was the slaughter on both sides; but the men of the south were forced to flee. and they fled unto the place which is still called nantcall. and thither did they follow them, and they made a vast slaughter of them there, so that they fled again as far as the place called dol pen maen, and there they halted and sought to make peace. and that he might have peace, pryderi gave hostages, gwrgi gwastra gave he and three and twenty others, sons of nobles. and after this they journeyed in peace even unto traeth mawr; but as they went on together towards melenryd, the men on foot could not be restrained from shooting. pryderi despatched unto math an embassy to pray him to forbid his people, and to leave it between him and gwydion the son of don, for that he had caused all this. and the messengers came to math. "of a truth," said math, "i call heaven to witness, if it be pleasing unto gwydion the son of don, i will so leave it gladly. never will i compel any to go to fight, but that we ourselves should do our utmost." "verily," said the messengers, "pryderi saith that it were more fair that the man who did him this wrong should oppose his own body to his, and let his people remain unscathed." "i declare to heaven, i will not ask the men of gwynedd to fight because of me. if i am allowed to fight pryderi myself, gladly will i oppose my body to his." and this answer they took back to pryderi. "truly," said pryderi, "i shall require no one to demand my rights but myself." then these two came forth and armed themselves, and they fought. and by force of strength, and fierceness, and by the magic and charms of gwydion, pryderi was slain. and at maen tyriawc, {87} above melenryd, was he buried, and there is his grave. and the men of the south set forth in sorrow towards their own land; nor is it a marvel that they should grieve, seeing that they had lost their lord, and many of their best warriors, and for the most part, their horses and their arms. the men of gwynedd went back joyful and in triumph. "lord," said gwydion unto math, "would it not be right for us to release the hostages of the men of the south, which they pledged unto us for peace? for we ought not to put them in prison." "let them then be set free," said math. so that youth, and the other hostages that were with him, were set free to follow the men of the south. math himself went forward to caerdathyl. gilvaethwy the son of don, and they of the household that were with him went to make the circuit of gwynedd as they were wont, without coming to the court. math went into his chamber, and caused a place to be prepared for him whereon to recline, so that he might put his feet in the maiden's lap. "lord," said goewin, "seek now another {88} to hold thy feet, for i am now a wife." "what meaneth this?" said he. "an attack, lord, was made unawares upon me; but i held not my peace, and there was no one in the court who knew not of it. now the attack was made by thy nephews, lord, the sons of thy sister, gwydion the son of don, and gilvaethwy the son of don; unto me they did wrong, and unto thee dishonour." "verily," he exclaimed, "i will do to the utmost of my power concerning this matter. but first i will cause thee to have compensation, and then will i have amends made unto myself. as for thee, i will take thee to be my wife, and the possession of my dominions will i give unto thy hands." and gwydion and gilvaethwy came not near the court, but stayed in the confines of the land until it was forbidden to give them meat and drink. at first they came not near unto math, but at last they came. "lord," said they, "good day to thee." "well," said he, "is it to make me compensation that ye are come?" "lord," they said, "we are at thy will." "by my will i would not have lost my warriors, and so many arms as i have done. you cannot compensate me my shame, setting aside the death of pryderi. but since ye come hither to be at my will, i shall begin your punishment forthwith." then he took his magic wand, and struck gilvaethwy, so that he became a deer, and he seized upon the other hastily lest he should escape from him. and he struck him with the same magic wand, and he became a deer also. "since now ye are in bonds, i will that ye go forth together and be companions, and possess the nature of the animals whose form ye bear. and this day twelvemonth come hither unto me." at the end of a year from that day, lo there was a loud noise under the chamber wall, and the barking of the dogs of the palace together with the noise. "look," said he, "what is without." "lord," said one, "i have looked; there are there two deer, and a fawn with them." then he arose and went out. and when he came he beheld the three animals. and he lifted up his wand. "as ye were deer last year, be ye wild hogs each and either of you, for the year that is to come." and thereupon he struck them with the magic wand. "the young one will i take and cause to be baptized." now the name that he gave him was hydwn. "go ye and be wild swine, each and either of you, and be ye of the nature of wild swine. and this day twelvemonth be ye here under the wall." at the end of the year the barking of dogs was heard under the wall of the chamber. and the court assembled, and thereupon he arose and went forth, and when he came forth he beheld three beasts. now these were the beasts that he saw; two wild hogs of the woods, and a well-grown young one with them. and he was very large for his age. "truly," said math, "this one will i take and cause to be baptized." and he struck him with his magic wand, and he became a fine fair auburn haired youth, and the name that he gave him was hychdwn. "now as for you, as ye were wild hogs last year, be ye wolves each and either of you for the year that is to come." thereupon he struck them with his magic wand, and they became wolves. "and be ye of like nature with the animals whose semblance ye bear, and return here this day twelvemonth beneath this wall." and the same day at the end of the year, he heard a clamour and a barking of dogs under the wall of the chamber. and he rose and went forth. and when he came, behold he saw two wolves, and a strong cub with them. "this one will i take," said math, "and i will cause him to be baptized; there is a name prepared for him, and that is bleiddwn. now these three, such are they; "the three sons of gilvaethwy the false, the three faithful combatants, bleiddwn, hydwn, and hychdwn the tall." then he struck the two with his magic wand, and they resumed their own nature. "oh men," said he, "for the wrong that ye did unto me, sufficient has been your punishment and your dishonour. prepare now precious ointment for these men, and wash their heads, and equip them." and this was done. and after they were equipped, they came unto him. "oh men," said he, "you have obtained peace, and you shall likewise have friendship. give your counsel unto me, what maiden i shall seek." "lord," said gwydion the son of don, "it is easy to give thee counsel; seek arianrod, {91a} the daughter of don, thy niece, thy sister's daughter." and they brought her unto him, and the maiden came in. "ha damsel," said he, "art thou the maiden?" "i know not, lord, other than that i am." then he took up his magic wand, and bent it. "step over this," said he, "and i shall know if thou art the maiden." then stepped she over the magic wand, and there appeared forthwith a fine chubby yellow haired boy. and at the crying out of the boy, she went towards the door. and thereupon some small form was seen; but before any one could get a second glimpse of it, gwydion had taken it, and had flung a scarf of velvet around it and hidden it. now the place where he hid it was the bottom of a chest at the foot of his bed. "verily," said math the son of mathonwy, concerning the fine yellow haired boy, "i will cause this one to be baptized, and dylan is the name i will give him." so they had the boy baptized, and as they baptized him he plunged into the sea. and immediately when he was in the sea, he took its nature, and swam as well as the best fish that was therein. and for that reason was he called dylan, the son of the wave. beneath him no wave ever broke. and the blow whereby he came to his death, was struck by his uncle govannion. the third fatal {91b} blow was it called. as gwydion lay one morning on his bed awake, he heard a cry in the chest at his feet; and though it was not loud, it was such that he could hear it. 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. and he took up the boy in his arms, and 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 that year he was nursed. and at the end of the year, he seemed by his size as though he were two years old. and the second year he was a big child, and able to go to the court by himself. and when he came to the court, gwydion noticed him, and the boy became familiar with him, and loved him better than any one else. then was the boy reared at the court until he was four years old, when he was as big as though he had been eight. and one day gwydion walked forth, and the boy followed him, and he went to the castle of arianrod, having the boy with him; and when he came into the court, arianrod arose to meet him, and greeted him and bade him welcome. "heaven prosper thee," said he. "who is the boy that followeth thee?" she asked. "this youth, he is thy son," he answered. "alas," said she, "what has come unto thee that thou shouldest shame me thus, wherefore dost thou seek my dishonour, and retain it so long as this?" "unless thou suffer dishonour greater than that of my bringing up such a boy as this, small will be thy disgrace." "what is the name of the boy?" said she. "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 how displeasing soever it may be unto thee. as for thee, that which afflicts thee is that thou art no longer called a damsel." and thereupon he went forth in wrath, and returned to caer dathyl, and there he tarried that night. and the next day he arose and took the boy with him, and went to walk on the sea shore between that place and aber menei. and there he saw some sedges and sea weed, and he turned them into a boat. and out of dry sticks {93} and sedges he made some cordovan leather, and a great deal thereof, and he coloured 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 boy went in it to the port of the castle of arianrod. and he began forming shoes and stitching them, until he was observed from the castle. and when he knew that they of the castle were observing him, he disguised his aspect, and put another semblance upon himself, and upon the boy, so that they might not be known. "what men are those in yonder boat?" said arianrod. "they are cordwainers," answered they. "go and see what kind of leather they have, and what kind of work they can do." so they came unto them. and when they came he was colouring some cordovan leather, and gilding it. and the messengers came and told her this. "well," said she, "take the measure of my foot, and desire the cordwainer to make shoes for me." so he made the shoes for her, yet not according to the measure, but larger. the shoes then were brought unto her, and behold they were too large. "these are too large," said she, "but he shall receive their value. let him also make some that are smaller than they." then he made her others that were much smaller than her foot, and sent them unto her. "tell him that these will not go on my feet," said she. and they told him this. "verily," said he, "i will not make her any shoes, unless i see her foot." and this was told unto her. "truly," she answered, "i will go unto him." so she went down to the boat, and when she came there, he was shaping shoes and the boy 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 according to a 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. then she smiled. "verily," said she, "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 be he called henceforth." then the work disappeared in sea weed and sedges, and he went on with it no further. and for that reason was he called the third gold-shoemaker. "of a truth," said she, "thou wilt not thrive the better for doing evil unto me." "i have done thee no evil yet," said he. 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 armour 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 then gwydion saw that he languished through the want of horses, and arms. and he called him unto him. "ah, youth," said he, "we will go to-morrow on an errand 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 sea coast, up towards bryn aryen. and at the top of cevn clydno they equipped themselves with horses, and went towards the castle of arianrod. and they changed their form, and pricked 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 bards from glamorgan." and the porter went in. "the welcome of heaven be unto them, let them in," said arianrod. with great joy were they greeted. and the hall was arranged, and they went to meat. when meat was ended, arianrod discoursed with gwydion of tales and stories. now gwydion was an excellent teller of tales. and when it was time to leave off feasting, 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. and by the time that the day dawned, there resounded through the land uproar, and trumpets, and shouts. when it was now day, they heard a knocking at the door of the chamber, and therewith arianrod asking that it might be opened. up rose the youth and opened unto her, and she entered and a maiden with her. "ah, good men," she said, "in 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 colour 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 none other 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 you may have plenty of arms." and thereupon went she forth for the arms, and behold she returned, and two maidens, and suits of armour for two men, with her. "lady," said he, "do thou accoutre this stripling, and i will arm myself with the help of thy maidens. lo, i hear the tumult of the men approaching." "i will do so, gladly." so she armed him fully, and that right cheerfully. "hast thou finished arming the youth," said he. "i have finished," she answered. "i likewise have finished," said gwydion. "let us now take off our arms, we have no need of them." "wherefore?" said she. "here is the army around the house." "oh, lady, there is here no army." "oh," cried she, "whence then was this tumult?" "the tumult was but to break thy prophecy {96} and to obtain arms for thy 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, through the uproar thou hast caused in this cantrev 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." {picture: p97.jpg} they went thereupon unto math the son of mathonwy, and complained unto him most bitterly of arianrod. gwydion showed him also how he had procured arms for the youth. "well," said math, "we will seek, i and thou, by charms and illusion, to form a wife for him out of flowers. he has now come to man's stature, and he is the comeliest 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, {98a} and gave her the name of blodeuwedd. after she had become his bride, and they had feasted, said gwydion, "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 to hold." {98b} "lord," said he, "what cantrev is that?" "the cantrev of dinodig," he answered. now it is called at this day eivionydd and ardudwy. and the place in the cantrev where he dwelt, was a palace of his in a spot called mur y castell, on the confines of ardudwy. there dwelt he and reigned, and both he and his sway were beloved by all. one day he went forth to caer dathyl, to visit math the son of mathonwy. and on the day that he set out for caer dathyl, blodeuwedd walked in the court. and she heard the sound of a horn. and after the sound of the horn, behold, a tired stag went by, with dogs and huntsmen following it. and after the dogs and the huntsmen there came a crowd of men on foot. "send a youth," said she, "to ask who yonder host may be." so a youth went, and enquired who they were. "gronw pebyr is this, the lord of penllynn," said they. and thus the youth told her. gronw pebyr pursued the stag, and by the river cynvael he overtook the stag 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. and as the day departed and the night drew near, he came to the gate of the court. "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." "yes, truly, lady," said they, "it will be most fitting to invite him." then went messengers to meet him and bid him 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 thy kindness." when they had disaccoutred themselves, they went to sit down. and blodeuwedd looked upon him, and from the moment that she looked on him she became filled with his love. and he gazed on her, and the same thought came unto him as unto her, so that he could not conceal from her that he loved her, but he declared unto her that he did so. thereupon she was very joyful. and all their discourse that night was concerning the affection and love which they felt one for the other, and which in no longer space than one evening had arisen. and that evening passed they in each other's company. the next day he sought to depart. but she said, "i pray thee go not from me to-day." and that night he tarried also. and that night they consulted by what means they might always be together. "there is none other counsel," said he, "but that thou strive to learn from llew llaw gyffes in what manner he will meet his death. and this must thou do under the semblance of solicitude concerning him." the next day gronw sought to depart. "verily," said she, "i would counsel thee not to go from me to-day." "at thy instance, will i not go," said he, "albeit, i must say, there is danger, that the chief who owns the palace may return home." "to-morrow," answered she, "will i indeed permit thee to go forth." the next day he sought to go, and she hindered him not. "be mindful," said gronw, "of what i have said unto thee, and converse with him fully, and that under the guise of the dalliance of love, and find out by what means he may come to his death." that night llew llaw gyffes returned to his home. and the day they spent in discourse, and minstrelsy, and feasting. and at night they went to rest, and he spoke to blodeuwedd once, and 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 well?" "i was thinking," said she, "of that which thou didst never think of concerning me; for i was sorrowful as to thy death, lest thou shouldest go sooner than i." "heaven reward thy care for me," said he, "but until heaven take me i shall not easily be slain." "for the sake of heaven, and for mine, show me how thou mightest be slain. my memory in guarding is better than thine." "i will tell thee gladly," said he. "not easily can i be slain, except by a wound. {100} and the spear wherewith i am struck must be a year in the forming. 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. 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 cauldron, and thatching it well and tightly, and bringing a buck, and putting it beside the cauldron. then if i place one foot on the buck's back, and the other on the edge of the cauldron, whosoever 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. gronw toiled at making the spear, and that day twelvemonth it was ready. and that very day he caused her to be informed thereof. "lord," said blodeuwedd unto llew, "i have 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 cauldron 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 be in ambush on the hill which is now called bryn kyvergyr, on the bank of the river cynvael. she caused also to be collected all the goats that were in the cantrev, and had them brought to the other side of the river, opposite bryn kyvergyr. and the next day she spoke 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." the day after they came and looked at the bath. "wilt thou go into the bath, lord?" said she. "willingly will i go in," he answered. 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." and the buck was brought. then llew rose out of the bath, and put on his trowsers, 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 is called bryn cyvergyr, and he rested on one knee, and flung the poisoned dart and struck him 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 thenceforth was he no more seen. as soon as he departed gronw and blodeuwedd went together unto the palace that night. and 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. then these tidings reached math the son of mathonwy. and heaviness and grief came upon math, and 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 forward. and he went through gwynedd and powys to the confines. and when he had done so, he went into arvon, and came to the house of a vassal, in maenawr penardd. and he alighted at the house, and stayed there that night. the man of the house and his household came in, and last of all came there 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 to?" said gwydion. "every day, when the sty is opened, she goeth forth and none can catch sight of her, neither is it known whither she goeth more than if she sank into the earth." "wilt thou grant unto me," said gwydion, "not to open the sty until i am beside the sty with thee." "this will i do, right gladly," he answered. that night they went to rest; and as soon as the swineherd 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, she leaped forth, and set off with great speed. and gwydion followed her, and 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. and gwydion came under the tree, and looked what it might be that the sow was feeding on. and he saw that she was eating putrid flesh and vermin. then looked he up to the top of the tree, and as he looked he beheld on the top of the tree an eagle, and when the eagle shook itself, there fell vermin and putrid flesh from off it, and these the sow devoured. and it seemed to him that the eagle was llew. and he sang an englyn. "oak that grows between the two banks; darkened is the sky and hill! shall i not tell him by his wounds, that this is llew?" upon this the eagle came down until he reached the centre of the tree. and gwydion sang another englyn. "oak that grows in upland ground, is it not wetted by the rain? has it not been drenched by nine score 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 englyn did gwydion sing. "oak that grows beneath the steep; stately and majestic is its aspect! shall i not speak it? that llew will come to my lap?" and the eagle came down upon gwydion's knee. and gwydion struck him with his magic wand, so that he returned to his own form. no one ever saw a more piteous sight, for he was nothing but skin and bone. then he 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 mathonwy, "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." "well," said llew, "the sooner i have my right, the better shall i be pleased." then they called together the whole of gwynedd, 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 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 overtook. and he 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 shall never show thy face in the light of day henceforth; 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 an owl in the language of this present time, and for this reason is the owl hateful unto all birds. and even now the owl is called blodeuwedd. then gronw pebyr withdrew unto penllyn, and he despatched thence an embassy. and the messengers 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." and this was told unto gronw pebyr. "verily," said he, "is it needful for me to do thus? my faithful warriors, and my household, and my fosterbrothers, is there not one among you who will stand the blow in my stead?" "there is not, verily," answered they. and because 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." {picture: p106.jpg} 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." "ah," said he, "may heaven reward thee." 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 is still the slab on the bank of the river cynvael, in ardudwy, having the hole through it. and therefore it is even now called llech gronw. 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. and thus ends this portion of the mabinogi. here is the story of lludd and llevelys. {picture: p108.jpg} beli the great, son of manogan, had three sons, lludd, and caswallawn, and nynyaw; and according to the story he had a fourth son called llevelys. and after the death of beli, the kingdom of the island of britain fell into the hands of lludd his eldest son; and lludd ruled prosperously, and rebuilt the walls of london, and encompassed it about with numberless towers. and after that he bade the citizens build houses therein, such as no houses in the kingdom could equal. and moreover he was a mighty warrior, and generous and liberal in giving meat and drink to all that sought them. and though he had many castles and cities, this one loved he more than any. and he dwelt therein most part of the year, and therefore was it called caer ludd, and at last caer london. and after the stranger-race came there, it was called london, or lwndrys. lludd loved llevelys best of all his brothers, because he was a wise and a discreet man. having heard that the king of france had died, leaving no heir, except a daughter, and that he had left all his possessions in her hands, he came to lludd his brother, to beseech his counsel and aid. and that not so much for his own welfare, as to seek to add to the glory and honour and dignity of his kindred, if he might go to france to woo the maiden for his wife. and forthwith his brother conferred with him, and this counsel was pleasing unto him. so he prepared ships and filled them with armed knights, and set forth towards france. and as soon as they had landed, they sent messengers to show the nobles of france the cause of the embassy. and by the joint 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 his life lasted. after a space of time had passed, three plagues fell on the island of britain, such as none in the islands had ever seen the like. the first was a certain race that came, and was called the coranians; and so great was their knowledge, that there was no discourse upon the face of the island, however low it might be spoken, but what, if the wind met it, it was known to them. and through this they could not be injured. the second plague was a shriek which came on every may eve, over every hearth in the island of britain. and this went through people's hearts, and so scared them, that the men lost their hue and their strength, and the women their children, and the young men, and the maidens lost their senses, and all the animals and trees and the earth and the waters, were left barren. the third plague was, that however much of provisions and food might be prepared in the king's courts, were there even so much as a year's provision of meat and drink, none of it could ever be found, except what was consumed in the first night. and two of these plagues, no one ever knew their cause, therefore was there better hope of being freed from the first than from the second and third. and thereupon king lludd felt great sorrow and care, because that he knew not how he might be freed from these plagues. and he called to him all the nobles of his kingdom, and asked counsel of them what they should do against these afflictions. and by the common counsel of the nobles, lludd the son of beli, went to llevelys his brother, king of france, for he was a man great of counsel and wisdom, to seek his advice. and they made ready a fleet, and that in secret and in silence, lest that race should know the cause of their errand, or any besides the king and his counsellors. and when they were made ready, they went into their ships, lludd and those whom he chose with him. and they began to cleave the seas towards france. and when these tidings came to llevelys, seeing that he knew not the cause of his brother's ships, he came on the other side to meet him, and with him was a fleet vast of size. and when lludd saw this, he left all the ships out upon the sea except one only; and in that one he came to meet his brother, and he likewise with a single ship came to meet him. and when they were come together, each put his arms about the other's neck, and they welcomed each other with brotherly love. after that lludd had shewn his brother the cause of his errand, llevelys said that he himself knew the cause of the coming to those lands. and they took counsel together to discourse {111} on the matter otherwise than thus, in order that the wind might not catch their words, nor the coranians know what they might say. then llevelys caused a long horn to be made of brass, and through this horn they discoursed. but whatsoever words they spoke through this horn, one to the other, neither of them could hear any other but harsh and hostile words. and when llevelys saw this, and that there was a demon thwarting them and disturbing through this horn, he caused wine to be put therein to wash it. and through the virtue of the wine the demon was driven out of the horn. and when their discourse was unobstructed, llevelys told his brother that he would give him some insects, whereof he should keep some to breed, lest by chance the like affliction might come a second time. and other of these insects he should take and bruise in water. and he assured him that it would have power to destroy the race of the coranians. that is to say, 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 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. {picture: p112.jpg} "and the second plague," said he, "that is in thy dominion, behold it is a dragon. and another dragon of a foreign race is fighting with it, and striving to overcome it. and therefore does your dragon make a fearful outcry. and on this wise mayest thou come to know this. after thou hast returned home, cause the island to be measured in its length and breadth, and in the place where thou dost find the exact central point, there cause a pit to be dug, and cause a cauldron, 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 cauldron. and then, in thine own person do thou remain there watching, and thou wilt see the dragons fighting in the form of terrific animals. and at length they will take the form of dragons in the air. and last of all, after wearying themselves with fierce and furious fighting, they will fall in the form of two pigs upon the covering, and they will sink in, and the covering with them, and they will draw it down to the very bottom of the cauldron. and 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 kistvaen, in the strongest place thou hast in thy dominions, and hide them in the earth. and as long as they shall bide 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 store. and he through illusions and charms causes every one to sleep. therefore it is needful for thee in thy own person to watch thy food and thy provisions. and lest he should overcome thee with sleep, be there a cauldron of cold water by thy side, and when thou art oppressed with sleep, plunge into the cauldron." then lludd returned back unto his land. and immediately he summoned to him the whole of his own race and of the coranians. and as llevelys had taught him, he bruised the insects in water, the which he cast over them all together, and forthwith it destroyed the whole tribe of the coranians, without hurt to any of the britons. and some time after this lludd caused the island to be measured in its length and in its breadth. and in oxford he found the central point, and in that place he caused the earth to be dug, and in that pit a cauldron to be set, full of the best mead that could be made, and a covering of satin over the face of it. and he himself watched that night. and while he was there, he beheld the dragons fighting. and when they were weary they fell, and came down upon the top of the satin, and drew it with them to the bottom of the cauldron. and when they had drunk the mead they slept. and in their sleep, lludd folded the covering around them, and in the securest place he had in snowdon, he hid them in a kistvaen. now after that this spot was called dinas emreis, but before that, dinas ffaraon. and thus the fierce outcry ceased in his dominions. and when this was ended, king lludd caused an exceeding great banquet to be prepared. and when it was ready, he placed a vessel of cold water by his side, and he in his own proper person watched it. and 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. upon this, lest he should be hindered from his purpose and be overcome by sleep, he went often into the water. and at last, behold, a man of vast size, clad in strong, heavy armour, 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 with it forth. and nothing was ever more wonderful to lludd, than that the hamper should hold so much. and thereupon king lludd went after him and spoke unto him thus. "stop, stop," said he, "though thou hast done many insults and much spoil erewhile, thou shalt not do so any more, unless thy skill in arms and thy prowess be greater than mine." {picture: p115.jpg} then he instantly put down the hamper on the floor, and awaited him. and a fierce encounter was between them, so that the glittering fire flew out from their arms. and at the last lludd grappled with him, and fate bestowed the victory on lludd. and he threw the plague to the earth. and after he had overcome him by strength and might, he besought his mercy. "how can i grant thee mercy," said the king, "after all the many injuries and wrongs that thou hast done me?" "all the losses that ever i have caused thee," said he, "i will make thee atonement for, equal to what i have taken. and i will never do the like from this time forth. but thy faithful vassal will i be." and the king accepted this from him. and thus lludd freed the island of britain from the three plagues. and from thenceforth until the end of his life, in prosperous peace did lludd the son of beli rule the island of britain. and this tale is called the story of lludd and llevelys. and thus it ends. {picture: p116.jpg} taliesin. {picture: p117.jpg} in times past there lived in penllyn a man of gentle lineage, named tegid voel, and his dwelling was in the midst of the lake tegid, and his wife was called caridwen. and there was born to him of his wife a son named morvran ab tegid, and also a daughter named creirwy, the fairest maiden in the world was she; and they had a brother the most ill-favoured man in the world, avagddu. now caridwen his mother thought that he was not likely to be admitted among men of noble birth, by reason of his ugliness, unless he had some exalted merits or knowledge. for it was in the beginning of arthur's time and of the round table. so she resolved, according to the arts of the books of the fferyllt, {118a} to boil a cauldron of inspiration and science for her son, that his reception might be honourable because of his knowledge of the mysteries of the future state of the world. then she began to boil the cauldron, which from the beginning of its boiling might not cease to boil for a year and a day, until three blessed drops were obtained of the grace of inspiration. and she put gwion bach the son of gwreang of llanfair in caereinion, in powys, to stir the cauldron, and a blind man named morda to kindle the fire beneath it, and she charged them that they should not suffer it to cease boiling for the space of a year and a day. and she herself, according to the books of the astronomers, and in planetary hours, gathered every day of all charm-bearing herbs. and one day, towards the end of the year, as caridwen was culling plants and making incantations, it chanced that three drops of the charmed liquor flew out of the cauldron and fell upon the finger of gwion bach. and by reason of their great heat he put his finger to his mouth, {118b} and the instant he put those marvel-working drops into his mouth, he foresaw everything that was to come, and perceived that his chief care must be to guard against the wiles of caridwen, for vast was her skill. and in very great fear he fled towards his own land. and the cauldron burst in two, because all the liquor within it except the three charm-bearing drops was poisonous, so that the horses of gwyddno garanhir were poisoned by the water of the stream into which the liquor of the cauldron ran, and the confluence of that stream was called the poison of the horses of gwyddno from that time forth. {picture: p119.jpg} thereupon came in caridwen and saw all the toil of the whole year lost. and she seized a billet of wood and struck the blind morda on the head until one of his eyes fell out upon his cheek. and he said, "wrongfully hast thou disfigured me, for i am innocent. thy loss was not because of me." "thou speakest truth," said caridwen, "it was gwion bach who robbed me." and she went forth after him, running. and he saw her, and changed himself into a hare and fled. but she changed herself into a greyhound and turned him. and he ran towards a river, and became a fish. and she in the form of an otter-bitch chased him under the water, until he was fain to turn himself into a bird of the air. then she, as a hawk, followed him and gave him no rest in the sky. and just as she was about to stoop upon him, and he was in fear of death, he espied a heap of winnowed wheat on the floor of a barn, and he dropped amongst the wheat, and turned himself into one of the grains. then she transformed herself into a high-crested black hen, and went to the wheat and scratched it with her feet, and found him out and swallowed him. and, as the story says, she bore him nine months, and when she was delivered of him, she could not find it in her heart to kill him, by reason of his beauty. so she wrapped him in a leathern bag, and cast him into the sea to the mercy of god, on the twenty-ninth day of april. and at that time the weir of gwyddno was on the strand between dyvi and aberystwyth, near to his own castle, and the value of an hundred pounds was taken in that weir every may eve. and in those days gwyddno had an only son named elphin, the most hapless of youths, and the most needy. and it grieved his father sore, for he thought that he was born in an evil hour. and by the advice of his council, his father had granted him the drawing of the weir that year, to see if good luck would ever befall him, and to give him something wherewith to begin the world. {picture: p121.jpg} and the next day, when elphin went to look, there was nothing in the weir. but as he turned back he perceived the leathern bag upon a pole of the weir. then said one of the weir-ward unto elphin, "thou wast never unlucky until to-night, and now 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 but this leathern skin within it." "how now," said elphin, "there may be therein the value of an hundred pounds." well! they took up the leathern bag, and he who opened it saw the forehead of the boy, and said to elphin, "behold a radiant brow!" {121} "taliesin be he called," said elphin. and he lifted the boy in his arms, and lamenting his mischance, he placed him sorrowfully behind him. and he made his horse amble gently, that before had been trotting, and he carried him as softly as if he had been sitting in the easiest chair in the world. and presently the boy made a consolation and praise to elphin, and foretold honour to elphin; and the consolation was as you may see, "fair elphin cease to lament! let no one be dissatisfied with his own, to despair will bring no advantage. no man sees what supports him; the prayer of cynllo will not be in vain; god will not violate his promise. never in gwyddno's weir was there such good luck as this night. fair elphin, dry thy cheeks! being too sad will not avail, although thou thinkest thou hast no gain, too much grief will bring thee no good; nor doubt the miracles of the almighty: although i am but little, i am highly gifted. from seas, and from mountains, and from the depths of rivers, god brings wealth to the fortunate man. elphin of lively qualities, thy resolution is unmanly; thou must not be over sorrowful: better to trust in god than to forbode ill. weak and small as i am, on the foaming beach of the ocean, in the day of trouble, i shall be of more service to thee than 300 salmon. elphin of notable qualities, be not displeased at thy misfortune; although reclined thus weak in my bag, there lies a virtue in my tongue. while i continue thy protector thou hast not much to fear; remembering the names of the trinity, none shall be able to harm thee." and this was the first poem that taliesin ever sang, being to console elphin in his grief for that the produce of the weir was lost, and, what was worse, that all the world would consider that it was through his fault and ill-luck. and then gwyddno garanhir {123} asked him what he was, whether man or spirit. whereupon he sang this tale, and said, "first, i have been formed a comely person, in the court of ceridwen i have done penance; though little i was seen, placidly received, i was great on the floor of the place to where i was led; i have been a prized defence, the sweet muse the cause, and by law without speech i have been liberated by a smiling black old hag, when irritated dreadful her claim when pursued: i have fled with vigour, i have fled as a frog, i have fled in the semblance of a crow, scarcely finding rest; i have fled vehemently, i have fled as a chain, i have fled as a roe into an entangled thicket; i have fled as a wolf cub, i have fled as a wolf in a wilderness, i have fled as a thrush of portending language; i have fled as a fox, used to concurrent bounds of quirks; i have fled as a martin, which did not avail: i have fled as a squirrel, that vainly hides, i have fled as a stag's antler, of ruddy course, i have fled as iron in a glowing fire, i have fled as a spear-head, of woe to such as has a wish for it; i have fled as a fierce bull bitterly fighting, i have fled as a bristly boar seen in a ravine, i have fled as a white grain of pure wheat, on the skirt of a hempen sheet entangled, that seemed of the size of a mare's foal, that is filling like a ship on the waters; into a dark leathern bag i was thrown, and on a boundless sea i was sent adrift; which was to me an omen of being tenderly nursed, and the lord god then set me at liberty." then came elphin to the house or court of gwyddno his father, and taliesin with him. and gwyddno asked him if he had had a good haul at the weir, and he told him that he had got that which was better than fish. "what was that?" said gwyddno. "a bard," answered elphin. then said gwyddno, "alas, what will he profit thee?" and taliesin himself replied and said, "he will profit him more than the weir ever profited thee." asked gwyddno, "art thou able to speak, and thou so little?" and taliesin answered him, "i am better able to speak than thou to question me." "let me hear what thou canst say," quoth gwyddno. then taliesin sang,- "in water there is a quality endowed with a blessing; on god it is most just to meditate aright; to god it is proper to supplicate with seriousness, since no obstacle can there be to obtain a reward from him. three times have i been born, i know by meditation; it were miserable for a person not to come and obtain all the sciences of the world, collected together in my breast, for i know what has been, what in future will occur. i will supplicate my lord that i get refuge in him, a regard i may obtain in his grace; the son of mary is my trust, great in him is my delight, for in him is the world continually upholden. god has been to instruct me and to raise my expectation, the true creator of heaven, who affords me protection; it is rightly intended that the saints should daily pray, for god, the renovator, will bring them to him. * * * * * and forthwith elphin gave his haul to his wife, and she nursed him tenderly and lovingly. thenceforward elphin increased in riches more and more day after day, and in love and favour with the king, and there abode taliesin until he was thirteen years old, when elphin son of gwyddno went by a christmas invitation to his uncle, maelgwn gwynedd, who sometime after this held open court at christmas-tide in the castle of dyganwy, for all the number of his lords of both degrees, both spiritual and temporal, with a vast and thronged host of knights and squires. and amongst them there arose a discourse and discussion. and thus was it said. "is there in the whole world a king so great as maelgwn, or one on whom heaven has bestowed so many spiritual gifts as upon him? first, form, and beauty, and meekness, and strength, besides all the powers of the soul?" and together with these they said that heaven had given one gift that exceeded all the others, which was the beauty, and comeliness, and grace, and 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 one to another amongst themselves, who had braver men? who had fairer or swifter horses or greyhounds? who had more skilful or wiser bards--than maelgwn? now at that time the bards were in great favour with the exalted of the kingdom; and then none performed the office of those who are now called heralds, unless they were learned men, not only expert in the service of kings and princes, but studious 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 in the annals of the first nobles; and also were prepared always with their answers in various languages, latin, french, welsh, and english. and together with this they were great chroniclers, and recorders, and skilful in framing verses, and ready in making englyns in every one of these languages. now of these there were at that feast within the palace of maelgwn as many as four and twenty, and chief of them all, was one named heinin vardd. when they had all made an end of thus praising the king and his gifts, it befell that elphin spoke on this wise. "of a truth none but a king may vie with a king; but were he not a king, i would say that my wife was as virtuous as any lady in the kingdom, and also that i have a bard who is more skilful than all the king's bards." in a short space some of his fellows showed the king all the boastings of elphin; and the king ordered him to be thrown into a strong prison, until he might know the truth as to the virtues of his wife, and the wisdom of his bard. now when elphin had been put in a tower of the castle, with a thick chain about his feet, (it is said that it was a silver chain, because he was of royal blood;) the king, as the story relates, sent his son rhun to enquire into the demeanour of elphin's wife. now rhun was the most graceless man in the world, and there was neither wife nor maiden with whom he had held converse, but was evil spoken of. while rhun went in haste towards elphin's dwelling, being fully minded to bring disgrace upon his wife, taliesin told his mistress how that the king had placed his master in durance in prison, and how that rhun was coming in haste to strive to bring disgrace upon her. wherefore he caused his mistress to array one of the maids of her kitchen in her apparel; which the noble lady gladly did; and she loaded her hands with the best rings that she and her husband possessed. in this guise taliesin caused his mistress to put the maiden to sit at the board in her room at supper, and he made her to seem as her mistress, and the mistress to seem as the maid. and when they were in due time seated at their supper in the manner that has been said, rhun suddenly arrived at elphin's dwelling, and was received with joy, for all the servants knew him plainly; and they brought him in haste to the room of their mistress, in the semblance of whom the maid rose up from supper and welcomed him gladly. and afterwards she sat down to supper again the second time, and rhun with her. then rhun began jesting with the maid, who still kept the semblance of her mistress. and verily this story shows that the maiden became so intoxicated, that she fell asleep; and the story relates that it was a powder that rhun put into the drink, that made her sleep so soundly that she never felt it when he cut from off her hand her little finger, whereon was the signet ring of elphin, which he had sent to his wife as a token, a short time before. and rhun returned to the king with the finger and the ring as a proof, to show that he had cut it from off her hand, without her awaking from her sleep of intemperance. the king rejoiced greatly at these tidings, and he sent for his councillors, to whom he told the whole story from the beginning. and he caused elphin to be brought out of his prison, and he chided him because of his boast. and he spake unto elphin on this wise. "elphin, be it known to thee beyond a doubt that it is but folly for a man to trust in the virtues of his wife further than he can see her; and that thou mayest be certain of thy wife's vileness, behold her finger, with thy signet ring upon it, which was cut from her hand last night, while she slept the sleep of intoxication." then thus spake elphin. "with thy leave, mighty king, i cannot deny my ring, for it is known of many; but verily i assert strongly that the finger around which it is, was never attached to the hand of my wife, for in truth and certainty there are three notable things pertaining to it, none of which ever belonged to any of my wife's fingers. the first of the three is, that it is certain, by your grace's leave, that wheresoever my wife is at this present hour, whether sitting, or standing, or lying down, this ring would never remain upon her thumb, whereas you can plainly see that it was 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 this finger came was kneading rye dough within three days before the finger was cut therefrom, and i can assure your goodness that my wife has never kneaded rye dough since my wife she has been." then the king was mightily wrath with elphin for so stoutly withstanding him, respecting the goodness of his wife, wherefore he ordered him to his prison a second time, saying that he should not be loosed thence until he had proved the truth of his boast, as well concerning the wisdom of his bard as the virtues of his wife. in the meantime his wife and taliesin remained joyful at elphin's dwelling. and taliesin shewed his mistress how that elphin was in prison because of them, but he bade her be glad for that he would go to maelgwn's court to free his master. then she asked him in what manner he would set him free. and he answered her,- "a journey will i perform, and to the gate i will come; the hall i will enter, and my song i will sing; my speech i will pronounce to silence royal bards. in presence of their chief, i will greet to deride, upon them i will break and elphin i will free. should contention arise, in presence of the prince, with summons to the bards for the sweet flowing song, and wizards' posing lore and wisdom of druids. in the court of the sons of the distributor some are who did appear intent on wily schemes, by craft and tricking means, in pangs of affliction to wrong the innocent, let the fools be silent, as erst in badon's fight,- with arthur of liberal ones the head, with long red blades; through feats of testy men, and a chief with his foes. woe be to them, the fools, when revenge comes on them. i taliesin, chief of bards, with a sapient druid's words, will set kind elphin free from haughty tyrant's bonds. to their fell and chilling cry, by the act of a surprising steed, from the far distant north, there soon shall be an end. let neither grace nor health be to maelgwn gwynedd, for this force and this wrong; and be extremes of ills and an avenged end to rhun and all his race: short be his course of life, be all his lands laid waste; and long exile be assigned to maelgwn gwynedd!" after this he took leave of his mistress, and came at last to the court of maelgwn, who was going to sit in his hall and dine in his royal state, as it was the custom in those days for kings and princes to do at every chief feast. and as soon as taliesin entered the hall, he placed himself in a quiet corner, near the place where the bards and the minstrels were wont to come to in doing their service and duty to the king, as is the custom at the high festivals when the bounty is proclaimed. and so, when the bards and the heralds came to cry largess and to proclaim the power of the king and his strength, at the moment that they passed by the corner wherein he was crouching, taliesin pouted out his lips after them, and played "blerwm, blerwm," with his finger upon his lips. neither took they much 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 they were wont, without speaking 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 elsewhere. this sight caused the king to wonder and to deem within himself that they were drunk with many liquors. wherefore he commanded 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. and this lord did so gladly. but they ceased not from their folly any more than before. whereupon he sent to them a second time, and a third, desiring them to go forth from the hall. at the last the king ordered one of his squires to give a blow to the chief of them named heinin vardd; and the squire took a broom, and struck him on the head, so that he fell back in his seat. then he arose and went on his knees, and besought leave of 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 after this heinin spoke on this wise. "oh honourable king, be it known to your grace, that not from the strength of drink, or of too much liquor, are we dumb, without power of speech like drunken men, but through the influence of a spirit that sits in the corner yonder in the form of a child." forthwith the king commanded the squire to fetch him; and he went to the nook where taliesin sat, and brought him before the king, who asked him what he was, and whence he came. and he answered the king in verse. "primary chief bard am i to elphin, and my original country is the region of the summer stars; idno and heinin called me merddin, at length every king will call me taliesin. i was with my lord in the highest sphere, on the fall of lucifer into the depth of hell: i have borne a banner before alexander; i know the names of the stars from north to south; i have been on the galaxy at the throne of the distributor; i was in canaan when absalom was slain; i conveyed the divine spirit to the level of the vale of hebron; i was in the court of don before the birth of gwydion. i was instructor to eli and enoc; i have been winged by the genius of the splendid crosier; i have been loquacious prior to being gifted with speech; i was at the place of the crucifixion of the merciful son of god; i have been three periods in the prison of arianrod; i have been the chief director of the work of the tower of nimrod; i am a wonder whose origin is not known. i have been in asia with noah in the ark, i have seen the destruction of sodom and gomorra; i have been in india when roma was built, i am now come here to the remnant of troia. i have been with my lord in the manger of the ass; i strengthened moses through the water of jordan; i have been in the firmament with mary magdalene; i have obtained the muse from the cauldron of ceridwen; i have been bard of the harp to lleon of lochlin. i have been on the white hill, in the court of cynvelyn, for a day and a year in stocks and fetters, i have suffered hunger for the son of the virgin. i have been fostered in the land of the deity, i have been teacher to all intelligences, i am able to instruct the whole universe. i shall be until the day of doom on the face of the earth; and it is not known whether my body is flesh or fish. then i was for nine months in the womb of the hag ceridwen; i was originally little gwion, and at length i am taliesin." and when the king and his nobles had heard the song, they wondered much, 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 elphin, he bade heinin, his first and wisest bard, to answer taliesin and to strive with him. but when he came, he could do no other, but play "blerwm" on his lips; and when he sent for the others of the four and twenty bards, they all did likewise, and could do no other. and maelgwn asked the boy taliesin what was his errand, and he answered him in song. "puny bards, i am trying to secure the prize, if i can; by a gentle prophetic strain i am endeavouring to retrieve the loss i may have suffered; complete the attempt, i hope, since elphin endures trouble in the fortress of teganwy, on him may there not be laid too many chains and fetters; the chair of the fortress of teganwy will i again seek; strengthened by my muse i am powerful; mighty on my part is what i seek, for three hundred songs and more are combined in the spell i sing. there ought not to stand where i am neither stone, neither ring; and there ought not to be about me any bard who may not know that elphin the son of gwyddno is in the land of artro, secured by thirteen locks, for praising his instructor; and then i taliesin, chief of the bards of the west, shall loosen elphin out of a golden fetter." * * * * * "if you be primary bards to the master of sciences, declare ye mysteries that relate to the inhabitants of the world; there is a noxious creature, from the rampart of satanas, which has overcome all between the deep and the shallow; equally wide are his jaws as the mountains of the alps; him death will not subdue, nor hand or blades; there is the load of nine hundred waggons in the hair of his two paws; there is in his head an eye green as the limpid sheet of icicle; three springs arise in the nape of his neck; sea-roughs thereon swim through it; there was the dissolution of the oxen of deivrdonwy the water-gifted. the names of the three springs from the midst of the ocean; one generated brine which is from the corina, to replenish the flood over seas disappearing; the second, without injury it will fall on us, when there is rain abroad. through the whelming sky; the third will appear through the mountain veins, like a flinty banquet. the work of the king of kings. you are blundering bards, in too much solicitude; you cannot celebrate the kingdom of the britons; and i am taliesin, chief of the bards of the west, who will loosen elphin out of the golden fetter." * * * * * "be silent, then, ye unlucky rhyming bards, for you cannot judge between truth and falsehood. if you be primary bards formed by heaven, tell your king what his fate will be. it is i who am a diviner and a leading bard, and know every passage in the country of your king; i shall liberate elphin from the belly of the stony tower; and will tell your king what will befall him. a most strange creature will come from the sea marsh of rhianedd as a punishment of iniquity on maelgwn gwynedd; his hair, his teeth, and his eyes being as gold, and this will bring destruction upon maelgwn gwynedd." * * * * * "discover thou what is the strong creature from before the flood, without flesh, without bone, without vein, without blood, without head, without feet; it will neither be older nor younger than at the beginning; for fear of a denial, there are no rude wants with creatures. great god! how the sea whitens when first it come! great are its gusts when it comes from the south; great are its evaporations when it strikes on coasts. it is in the field, it is in the wood, without hand and without foot, without signs of old age, though it be co-eval with the five ages or periods; and older still, though they be numberless years. it is also so wide as the surface of the earth; and it was not born, nor was it seen. it will cause consternation wherever god willeth. on sea, and on land, it neither sees, nor is seen. its course is devious, and will not come when desired. on land and on sea, it is indispensible. it is without an equal, it is four-sided; it is not confined, it is incomparable; it comes from four quarters it will not be advised, it will not be without advice. it commences its journey above the marble rock. {136} it is sonorous, it is dumb, it is mild, it is strong, it is bold, when it glances over the land. it is silent, it is vocal, it is clamorous, it is the most noisy on the face of the earth. it is good, it is bad, it is extremely injurious. it is concealed, because sight cannot perceive it. it is noxious, it is beneficial; it is yonder, it is here; it will discompose, but will not repair the injury; it will not suffer for its doings, seeing it is blameless. it is wet, it is dry, it frequently comes, proceeding from the heat of the sun, and the coldness of the moon. the moon is less beneficial, inasmuch as her heat is less. one being has prepared it, out of all creatures, by a tremendous blast, to wreak vengeance on maelgwn gwynedd." and while he was thus singing his verse near the door there arose a mighty storm of wind, so that the king and all his nobles thought that the castle would fall upon their heads. and the king caused them to fetch elphin in haste from his dungeon, and placed him before taliesin. and it is said that immediately he sang a verse, so that the chains opened from about his feet. "i adore the supreme, lord of all animation,- him that supports the heaven, ruler of every extreme, him that made the water good for all, him who has bestowed each gift, and blesses it;- may abundance of mead be given maelgwn of anglesey, who supplies us, from his foaming meadhorns, with the choicest pure liquor. since bees collect, and do not enjoy, we have sparkling distilled mead, which is universally praised. the multitude of creatures which the earth nourishes, god made for man, with a view to enrich him;- some are violent, some are mute, he enjoys them, some are wild, some are tame; the lord makes them;- part of their produce becomes clothing; for food and beverage till doom will they continue. i entreat the supreme, sovereign of the region of peace, to liberate elphin from banishment, the man who gave me wine, and ale, and mead, with large princely steeds, of beautiful appearance; may he yet give me; and at the end, may god of his good will grant me, in honour, a succession of numberless ages, in the retreat of tranquillity.- elphin, knight of mead, late be thy dissolution!" and afterwards he sang the ode which is called "the excellence of the bards." "what was the first man made by the god of heaven; what the fairest flattering speech that was prepared by ieuav; what meat, what drink, what roof his shelter; what the first impression of his primary thinking; what became his clothing; who carried on a disguise, owing to the wiles of the country, in the beginning? wherefore should a stone be hard; why should a thorn be sharp-pointed; who is hard like a flint; who is salt like brine; who sweet like honey; who rides on the gale; why ridged should be the nose; why should a wheel be round; why should the tongue be gifted with speech rather than another member? if thy bards, heinin, be competent, let them reply to me, taliesin." and after that he sang the address which is called "the reproof of the bards." "if thou art a bard completely imbued with genius not to be controlled, be thou not untractable within the court of thy king; until thy rigmarole shall be known, be thou silent heinin as to the name of thy verse, and the name of thy vaunting; and as to the name of thy grandsire prior to his being baptized. and the name of the sphere, and the name of the element, and the name of thy language, and the name of thy region. avaunt, ye bards above, avaunt, ye bards below! my beloved is below, in the fetter of arianrod. it is certain you know not how to understand the song i utter, nor clearly how to discriminate between the truth and what is false; puny bards, crows of the district, why do you not take to flight? a bard that will not silence me, silence may he not obtain, till he goes to be covered under gravel and pebbles; such as shall listen to me, may god listen to him." then sang he the piece called "the spite of the bards." "minstrels persevere in their false custom, immoral ditties are their delight; vain and tasteless praise they recite; falsehood at all times do they utter; the innocent persons they ridicule; married women they destroy, innocent virgins of mary they corrupt; as they pass their lives away in vanity; poor innocent persons they ridicule; at night they get drunk, they sleep the day; in idleness without work they feed themselves; the church they hate, and the tavern they frequent; with thieves and perjured fellows they associate; at courts they inquire after feasts; every senseless word they bring forward; every deadly sin they praise; every vile course of life they lead; through every village, town, and country they stroll; concerning the gripe of death they think not; neither lodging nor charity do they give; indulging in victuals to excess. psalms or prayers they do not use, tithes or offerings to god they do not pay, on holidays or sundays they do not worship; vigils or festivals they do not heed. the birds do fly, the fish do swim, the bees collect honey, worms do crawl, every thing travails to obtain its food, except minstrels and lazy useless thieves. i deride neither song nor minstrelsy, for they are given by god to lighten thought; but him who abuses them, for blaspheming jesus and his service." taliesin having set his master free from prison, and having protected the innocence of his wife, and silenced the bards so that not one of them dared to say a word, now brought elphin's wife before them, and shewed that she had not one finger wanting. right glad was elphin, right glad was taliesin. then he bade elphin wager the king, that he had a horse both better and swifter than the king's horses. and this elphin did, and the day, and the time, and the place were fixed, and the place was that which at this day is called morva rhiannedd; and thither the king went with all his people, and four and twenty of the swiftest horses he possessed. and after a long process the course was marked, and the horses were placed for running. then came taliesin with four and twenty twigs of holly, which he had burnt black, and he caused the youth who was to ride his master's horse to place them in his belt, and he gave him orders to let all the king's horses get before him, and as he should overtake one horse after the other, to take one of the twigs and strike the horse with it over the crupper, and then let that twig fall; and after that to take another twig, and do in like manner to every one of the horses, as he should overtake them, enjoining the horseman strictly to watch when his own horse should stumble, and to throw down his cap on the spot. all these things did the youth fulfil, giving a blow to every one of the king's horses, and throwing down his cap on the spot where his horse stumbled. and to this spot taliesin brought his master after his horse had won the race. and he caused elphin to put workmen to dig a hole there; and when they had dug the ground deep enough, they found a large cauldron full of gold. and then said taliesin, "elphin, behold a payment and reward unto thee, for having taken me out of the weir, and for having reared me from that time until now." and on this spot stands a pool of water, which is to this time called pwllbair. after all this, the king caused taliesin to be brought before him, and he asked him to recite concerning the creation of man from the beginning; and thereupon he made the poem which is now called "one of the four pillars of song." "the almighty made, down the hebron vale, with his plastic hands, adam's fair form; and five hundred years, void of any help, there he remained and lay without a soul. he again did form, in calm paradise, from a left-side rib, bliss-throbbing eve. seven hours they were the orchard keeping, till satan brought strife, with wiles from hell. thence were they driven, cold and shivering, to gain their living, into this world. to bring forth with pain their sons and daughters, to have possession of asia's land. twice five, ten and eight, she was self-bearing, the mixed burden of man-woman. and once, not hidden, she brought forth abel, and cain the forlorn, the homicide. to him and his mate was given a spade, to break up the soil, thus to get bread. the wheat pure and white, summer tilth to sow, every man to feed, till great yule feast. an angelic hand from the high father, brought seed for growing that eve might sow; but she then did hide of the gift a tenth, and all did not sow of what was dug. black rye then was found, and not pure wheat grain, to show the mischief thus of thieving. for this thievish act, it is requisite, that all men should pay tithe unto god. of the ruddy wine, planted on sunny days, and on new moon nights; and the white wine. the wheat rich in grain and red flowing wine christ's pure body make, son of alpha. the wafer is flesh, the wine is spilt blood, the trinity's words sanctify them. the concealed books from emmanuel's hand were brought by raphael as adam's gift. when in his old age, to his chin immersed in jordan's water, keeping a fast, moses did obtain, in jordan's water, the aid of the three most special rods. solomon did obtain, in babel's tower, all the sciences in asia land. so did i obtain, in my bardic books, all the sciences of europe and africa. their course, their bearing their permitted way, and their fate i know, unto the end. oh! what misery, through extreme of woe, prophecy will show on troia's race! a coiling serpent, proud and merciless, on her golden wings, from germany. she will overrun england and scotland, from lychlyn sea-shore to the severn. then will the brython be as prisoners, by strangers swayed, from saxony. their lord they will praise, their speech they will keep, their land they will lose, except wild walia. till some change shall come, after long penance, when equally rife the two crimes come. britons then shall have their land and their crown, and the strangers swarm shall disappear. all the angel's words, as to peace and war, will be fulfilled to britain's race. he further told the king various prophecies of things that should be in the world, in songs, as follows. * * * * * {picture: p143.jpg} footnotes: {11a} diarwya. {11b} while the day was still young. {13} arawn, king of annwvyn. {15} and as thou seest. {17} "it may be that i shall repent for what i have done unto thee. seek whom thou wiliest to slay thee, i shall not slay thee." {26} "if thou wilt ask for a reasonable gift, thou shalt have it gladly." "a reasonable one, lord," answered he. {28} pwyll rose, and caused silence to be proclaimed, to command all suitors and minstrels to show what they desired, and to tell them that every one of them would be satisfied according to his wish and desire. {29} and they summoned him to them. {30} "wretched women," said rhiannon, "for the sake of the god who knows everything, charge me not falsely. the god who knows everything knows that that is false." {31a} whether she persuaded or pleaded. {31b} unbeseeming. {33} according to the kind of baptism that was then made. {35} "oh fair lady," said teirnon, "it is not very likely to me that any of these will be carried on thy back." "let who will do so," said the son, "i shall not." "truly, my soul," said teirnon, "neither shall we go." {36a} the welsh is _vy'm pryder i_ (= my trouble). {36b} if he will be of gentle bearing. {37a} and if he is in power, it will be more right for him to maintain thee than it was even for me. {37b} after that. {38} wallt. {39a} and splendid wearer of the crown of london. {39b} over-looking the sea. {40} penordim. {42} mane. {45} and i am not sure it was not there he got it. {48a} taunted him openly. {48b} bake. {50a} on the township. {50b} there were but two rivers, lli and archan were they called. after that the ocean separated the kingdoms. {52a} was. {52b} "yes," said bendigeid vran, "unless i myself can get the kingship." {56a} glivieri. {56b} grodyeu. {59a} at that very moment. {59b} and from that hour they could not rest. {62a} meek. {62b} wilt thou follow another counsel? {62c} and even now thou wilt not be disappointed with her appearance. {65} add "and fish." {71} he furnished gilded clasps for the shoes. {73} and then, half in guile and half in anger, he rushed into the midst of the mice. but he could no more keep one of them within sight than he could gnats or birds in the air, except one, which he saw was heavy with young, and which he thought could not run. {79} knockers and collars. {81} eveyd. {87} tyviawc. {88} a maiden. {91a} aranrod _throughout_. {91b} infamous. {93} sea-weed. {96} destiny. {98a} add "according to the rite of baptism they then performed." {98b} "i will give him that one cantrev that is best for a young man to have." {100} blow. {111} add "henceforth." {118a} of the books of the magician. [vergil = fferyllt = magician or chemist.] {118b} head. {121} taliesin {123} this should be elphin son of gwyddno. {136} possibly an allusion to the cave of aeolus. transcribed from the 1902 fisher unwin edition by david price, email ccx074@pglaf.org the mabinogion translated from the red book of hergest by lady charlotte guest vol. ii. london t. fisher unwin 11 paternoster buildings. mxcii {the salmon of llyn llyw. "and they heard a great wailing and lamenting from the dungeon.": p0.jpg} introduction. in this second volume, as in the first, i have given lady charlotte guest's translation exactly as she wrote it. it would have been easy to make it a more faithful reproduction of the welsh by occasionally changing a word, or by making a phrase more simple in diction. but the reader would not have forgiven me for placing before him a translation that was not lady charlotte guest's. i have again ventured, however, after a careful comparison of the translation with the original, to put in the form of footnotes a more accurate or more literal rendering of passages which lady charlotte guest did not read aright, passages which she has omitted, and passages the real meaning of which she seems to me to have failed to grasp. the first two tales in this volume make up, with "the dream of rhonabwy," the second volume of the original edition. "the dream of rhonabwy" was placed in my first volume, with "the lady of the fountain" and "peredur"--the two tales that form the first volume of the original edition. the oldest of the tales--the mabinogion proper--will all be included in the third volume. owen edwards. llanuwchllyn, _june_ 1902. geraint the son of erbin. {picture: p7.jpg} arthur was accustomed to hold his court at caerlleon upon usk. and there he held it seven easters, {7a} and five christmases. and once upon a time he held his court there at whitsuntide. for caerlleon was the place most easy of access in his dominions, both by sea and by land. and there were assembled {7b} nine crowned kings, who were his tributaries, and likewise earls and barons. for they were his invited guests at all the high festivals, unless they were prevented by any great hindrance. and when he was at caerlleon, holding his court, thirteen churches were set apart for mass. and thus were they appointed: one church for arthur, and his kings, and his guests; and the second for gwenhwyvar and her ladies; and the third for the steward of the household and the suitors; and the fourth for the franks, and the other officers; and the other nine churches were for the nine masters of the household, and chiefly for gwalchmai; for he, from the eminence of his warlike fame, and from the nobleness of his birth, was the most exalted of the nine. and there was no other arrangement respecting the churches than that which we have mentioned above. glewlwyd gavaelvawr was the chief porter; but he did not himself perform the office, except at one of the three high festivals, for he had seven men to serve him; and they divided the year amongst them. they were grynn, and pen pighon, and llaes cymyn, and gogyfwlch, and gwrdnei with cat's eyes, who could see as well by night as by day, and drem the son of dremhitid, and clust the son of clustveinyd; and these were arthur's guards. and on whit tuesday, as the king sat at the banquet, lo! there entered a tall, fair-headed youth, clad in a coat and a surcoat of diapred satin, and a golden-hilted sword about his neck, and low shoes of leather upon his feet. and he came, and stood before arthur. "hail to thee, lord!" said he. "heaven prosper thee," he answered, "and be thou welcome. dost thou bring any new tidings?" "i do, lord," he said. "i know thee not," said arthur. "it is a marvel to me that thou dost not know me. i am one of thy foresters, lord, in the forest of dean, and my name is madawc, the son of twrgadarn." "tell me thine errand," said arthur. "i will do so, lord," said he. "in the forest i saw a stag, the like of which beheld i never yet." "what is there about him," asked arthur, "that thou never yet didst see his like?" "he is of pure white, lord, and he does not herd with any other animal through stateliness and pride, so royal is his bearing. and i come to seek thy counsel, lord, and to know thy will concerning him." "it seems best to me," said arthur, "to go and hunt him to-morrow at break of day; and to cause general notice thereof to be given to-night in all quarters of the court." and arryfuerys was arthur's chief huntsman, and arelivri was his chief page. and all received notice; and thus it was arranged. and they sent the youth before them. then gwenhwyvar said to arthur, "wilt thou permit me, lord," said she, "to go to-morrow to see and hear the hunt of the stag of which the young man spoke?" "i will, gladly," said arthur. "then will i go," said she. and gwalchmai said to arthur, "lord, if it seem well to thee, permit that into whose hunt soever the stag shall come, that one, be he a knight or one on foot, may cut off his head, and give it to whom he pleases, whether to his own ladylove, or to the lady of his friend." "i grant it gladly," said arthur, "and let the steward of the household be chastised if all are not ready to-morrow for the chase." and they passed the night with songs, and diversions, and discourse, and ample entertainment. and when it was time for them all to go to sleep, they went. and when the next day came, they arose; and arthur called the attendants, who guarded his couch. and these were four pages, whose names were cadyrnerth the son of porthawr gandwy, and ambreu the son of bedwor, and amhar, the son of arthur, and goreu the son of custennin. and these men came to arthur, and saluted him, and arrayed him in his garments. and arthur wondered that gwenhwyvar did not awake, and did not move in her bed: and the attendants wished to awaken her. "disturb her not," said arthur, "for she had rather sleep than go to see the hunting." then arthur went forth, and he heard two horns sounding, one from near the lodging of the chief huntsman, and the other from near that of the chief page. and the whole assembly of the multitudes came to arthur, and they took the road to the forest. and after arthur had gone forth from the palace, gwenhwyvar awoke, and called to her maidens, and apparelled herself. "maidens," said she, "i had leave last night to go and see the hunt. go one of you to the stable, and order hither a horse such as a woman may ride." and one of them went, and she found but two horses in the stable, and gwenhwyvar and one of her maidens mounted them, and went through the usk, and followed the track of the men and the horses. and as they rode thus, they heard a loud and rushing sound; and they looked behind them, and beheld a knight upon a {10} hunter foal of mighty size; and the rider was a fair haired youth, bare-legged, and of princely mien, and a golden-hilted sword was at his side, and a robe and a surcoat of satin were upon him, and two low shoes of leather upon his feet; and around him was a scarf of blue purple, at each corner of which was a golden apple. and his horse stepped stately, and swift, and proud; and he overtook gwenhwyvar, and saluted her. "heaven prosper thee, geraint," said she, "i knew thee when first i saw thee just now. and the welcome of heaven be unto thee. and why didst thou not go with thy lord to hunt?" "because i knew not when he went," said he. "i marvel too," said she, "how he could go unknown to me." "indeed, lady," said he. "i was fast asleep, and knew not when he went; but thou, o young man, art the most agreeable companion i could have in the whole kingdom; and it may be that i shall be more amused with the hunting than they; {11} for we shall hear the horns when they sound, and we shall hear the dogs when they are let loose, and begin to cry." so they went to the edge of the forest, and there they stood. "from this place," said she, "we shall hear when the dogs are let loose." and thereupon they heard a loud noise, and they looked towards the spot whence it came, and they beheld a dwarf riding upon a horse, stately, and foaming, and prancing, and strong, and spirited. and in the hand of the dwarf was a whip. and near the dwarf they saw a lady upon a beautiful white horse, of steady and stately pace; and she was clothed in a garment of gold brocade. and near her was a knight upon a war-horse of large size, with heavy and bright armour both upon himself and upon his horse. and truly they never before saw a knight, or a horse, or armour, of such remarkable size. and they were all near to each other. "geraint," said gwenhwyvar, "knowest thou the name of that tall knight yonder?" "i know him not," said he, "and the strange armour that he wears prevents my either seeing his face or his features." "go, maiden," said gwenhwyvar, "and ask the dwarf who that knight is." then the maiden went up to the dwarf; and the dwarf waited for the maiden, when he saw her coming towards him. and the maiden enquired of the dwarf who the knight was. "i will not tell thee," he answered. "since thou art so churlish as not to tell me," said she, "i will ask him himself." "thou shall not ask him, by my faith," said he. "wherefore?" said she. "because thou art not of honour sufficient to befit thee to speak to my lord." then the maiden turned her horse's head towards the knight, upon which the dwarf struck her with the whip that was in his hand across the face and the eyes, until the blood flowed forth. and the maiden, through the hurt she received from the blow, returned to gwenhwyvar, complaining of the pain. "very rudely has the dwarf treated thee," said geraint. "i will go myself to know who the knight is." "go," said gwenhwyvar. and geraint went up to the dwarf. "who is yonder knight?" said geraint. "i will not tell thee," said the dwarf. "then will i ask him himself," said he. "that wilt thou not, by my faith," said the dwarf; "thou art not honourable enough to speak with my lord." said geraint, "i have spoken with men of equal rank with him." and he turned his horse's head towards the knight, but the dwarf overtook him and struck him as he had done the maiden, so that the blood coloured the scarf that geraint wore. then geraint put his hand upon the hilt of his sword, but he took counsel with himself, and considered that it would be no vengeance for him to slay the dwarf, and to be attacked unarmed by the armed knight, so he returned to where gwenhwyvar was. "thou hast acted wisely and discreetly," said she. "lady," said he, "i will follow him yet, with thy permission; and at last he will come to some inhabited place, where i may have arms either as a loan or for a pledge, so that i may encounter the knight." "go," said she, "and do not attack him until thou hast good arms, and i shall be very anxious concerning thee, until i hear tidings of thee." "if i am alive," said he, "thou shall hear tidings of me by to-morrow afternoon;" and with that he departed. and the road they took was below the palace of caerlleon, and across the ford of the usk; and they went along a fair, and even, and lofty ridge of ground, until they came to a town, and at the extremity of the town they saw a fortress and a castle. and they came to the extremity of the town. and as the knight passed through it, all the people arose, and saluted him, and bade him welcome. and when geraint came into the town, he looked at every house, to see if he knew any of those whom he saw. but he knew none, and none knew him to do him the kindness to let him have arms either as a loan or for a pledge. and every house he saw was full of men, and arms, and horses. and they were polishing shields, and burnishing swords, and washing armour, and shoeing horses. and the knight, and the lady, and the dwarf, rode up to the castle that was in the town, and every one was glad in the castle. and from the battlements and the gates they risked their necks, through their eagerness to greet them, and to show their joy. geraint stood there to see whether the knight would remain in the castle; and when he was certain that he would do so, he looked around him; and at a little distance from the town he saw an old palace in ruins, wherein was a hall that was falling to decay. and as he knew not any one in the town, he went towards the old palace; and when he came near to the palace, he saw but one chamber, and a bridge of marble-stone leading to it. and upon the bridge he saw sitting a hoary-headed man, upon whom were tattered garments. and geraint gazed steadfastly upon him for a long time. then the hoary-headed man spoke to him. "young man," he said, "wherefore art thou thoughtful?" "i am thoughtful," said he, "because i know not where to go to-night." "wilt thou come forward this way, chieftain?" said he, "and thou shalt have of the best that can be procured for thee." so geraint went forward. and the hoary-headed man preceded him into the hall. and in the hall he dismounted, and he left there his horse. then he went on to the upper chamber with the hoaryheaded man. and in the chamber he beheld an old decrepit woman, sitting on a cushion, with old tattered garments of satin upon her; and it seemed to him that he had never seen a woman fairer than she must have been when in the fulness of youth. and beside her was a maiden, upon whom were a vest and a veil, that were old, and beginning to be worn out. and truly he never saw a maiden more full of comeliness, and grace, and beauty, than she. and 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 to his horse." and the maiden disarrayed the youth, and then she furnished his horse with straw and with corn. and she went to the hall as before, and then she returned to the chamber. and the hoary-headed man said to the maiden, "go to the town," said he, "and bring hither the best that thou canst find both of food and of liquor." "i will, gladly, lord," said she. and to the town went the maiden. and they conversed together, while the maiden was at the town. and, behold! the maiden came back, and a youth with her, bearing on his back a costrel full of good purchased mead and a quarter of a young bullock. and in the hands of the maiden was a quantity of white bread, and she had some manchet bread in her veil, and she came into the chamber. "i could not obtain better than this," said she, "nor with better should i have been trusted." "it is good enough," said geraint. and they caused the meat to be boiled; and when their food was ready, they sat down. and it was in this wise; geraint sat between the hoary-headed man and his wife, and the maiden served them. and they ate and drank. and when they had finished eating, geraint talked with the hoary-headed man, and he asked him in the first place, to whom belonged the palace that he was in. "truly," said he, "it was i that built it, and to me also belonged the city and the castle which thou sawest." "alas!" said geraint, "how is it that thou hast lost them now?" "i lost a great earldom as well as these," said he, "and this is how i lost them. i had a nephew, the son of my brother, and i took his possessions to myself; and when he came to his strength, he demanded of me his property, but i withheld it from him. so he made war upon me, and wrested from me all that i possessed." "good, sir," {15} said geraint, "wilt thou tell me wherefore came the knight, and the lady, and the dwarf, just now into the town, and what is the preparation which i saw, and the putting of arms in order." "i will do so," said he. "the preparations are for the game that is to be held to-morrow by the young earl, which will be on this wise. in the midst of a meadow which is here, two forks will be set up, and upon the two forks a silver rod, and upon the silver rod a sparrowhawk, and for the sparrow-hawk there will be a tournament. and to the tournament will go all the array thou didst see in the city, of men, and of horses, and of arms. and with each man will go the lady he loves best; and no man can joust for the sparrow-hawk, except the lady he loves best be with him. and the knight that thou sawest has gained the sparrowhawk these two years; and if he gains it the third year, they will, from that time, send it every year to him, and he himself will come here no more. and he will be called the knight of the sparrow-hawk from that time forth." "sir," said geraint, "what is thy counsel to me concerning this knight, on account of the insult which i received from the dwarf, and that which was received by the maiden of gwenhwyvar, the wife of arthur?" and geraint told the hoary-headed man what the insult was that he had received. "it is not easy to counsel thee, inasmuch as thou hast neither dame nor maiden belonging to thee, for whom thou canst joust. yet, i have arms here, which thou couldest have; and there is my horse also, if he seem to thee better than thine own." "ah! sir," said he, "heaven reward thee. but my own horse, to which i am accustomed, together with thine arms, will suffice me. and if, when the appointed time shall come to-morrow, thou wilt permit me, sir, to challenge for yonder maiden that is thy daughter, i will engage, if i escape from the tournament, to love the maiden as long as i live, and if i do not escape, she will remain unsullied as before." "gladly will i permit thee," said the hoary-headed man, "and since thou dost thus resolve, it is necessary that thy horse and arms should be ready to-morrow at break of day. for then, the knight of the sparrow-hawk will make proclamation, and ask the lady he loves best to take the sparrow-hawk. 'for,' will he say to her, 'thou art the fairest of women, and thou didst possess it last year, and the year previous; and if any deny it thee to-day, by force will i defend it for thee.' and therefore," said the hoary-headed man, "it is needful for thee to be there at daybreak; and we three will be with thee," and thus was it settled. and at night, lo! {17} they went to sleep; and before the dawn they 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 ladylove to fetch the sparrowhawk. "fetch 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." "if thou maintainest the sparrow-hawk to be due to her, come forward, and do battle with me." and geraint went forward to the top of the meadow, having upon himself and upon his horse armour which was heavy, and rusty, and worthless, and of uncouth shape. then they encountered each other, and they broke a set of lances, and they broke a second set, and a third. and thus they did at every onset, and they broke as many lances as were brought to them. and when the earl and his company saw the knight of the sparrow-hawk gaining the mastery, there was shouting, and joy, and mirth amongst them. and the hoary-headed man, and his wife, and his daughter, were sorrowful. and the hoary-headed man served geraint lances as often as he broke them, and the dwarf served the knight of the sparrow-hawk. then the hoary-headed man came to geraint. "oh! chieftain," said he, "since no other will hold with thee, behold, here is the lance which was in my hand on the day when i received the honour of knighthood; and from that time to this i never broke it. and it has an excellent point." then geraint took the lance, thanking the hoary-headed man. and thereupon the dwarf also brought a lance to his lord. "behold here is a lance for thee, not less good than his," said the dwarf. "and bethink thee, that no knight ever withstood thee before so long as this one has done." "i declare to heaven," said geraint, "that unless death takes me quickly hence, he shall fare never the better for thy service." and geraint pricked his horse towards him from afar, and warning him, he rushed upon him, and gave him a blow so severe, and furious, and fierce, upon the face of his shield, that he cleft it in two, and broke his armour, and burst his girths, so that both he and his saddle were borne to the ground over the horse's crupper. and geraint dismounted quickly. and he was wroth, and he drew his sword, and rushed fiercely upon him. then the knight also arose, and drew his sword against geraint. and they fought on foot with their swords until their aims struck sparks of fire like stars from one another; and thus they continued fighting until the blood and sweat obscured the light from their eyes. and when geraint prevailed, the hoary-headed man, and his wife, and his daughter were glad; and when the knight prevailed, it rejoiced the earl and his party. then the hoary-headed man saw geraint receive a severe stroke, and he went up to him quickly, and said to him, "oh, chieftain, remember the treatment which thou hadst from the dwarf; and wilt thou not seek vengeance for the insult to thyself, and for the insult to gwenhwyvar the wife of arthur!" and geraint was roused by what he said to him, {19} and he called to him all his strength, and lifted up his sword, and struck the knight upon the crown of his head, so that he broke all his head armour, and cut through all the flesh and the skin, even to the skull, until he wounded the bone. {picture: p18.jpg} then the knight fell upon his knees, and cast his sword from his hand, and besought mercy of geraint. "of a truth," said he, "i relinquish my overdaring and my pride in craving thy mercy; and 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 grace upon this condition," said geraint, "that thou wilt go to gwenhwyvar, the wife of arthur, to do her satisfaction for the insult which her maiden received from thy dwarf. as to myself, for the insult which i received from thee and thy dwarf, i am content with that which i have done unto thee. dismount not from the time thou goest hence until thou comest into the presence of gwenhwyvar, to make her what atonement shall be adjudged at the court of arthur." "this will i do gladly. and who art thou?" said he. "i am geraint the son of erbin. and declare thou also who thou art." "i am edeyrn the son of nudd." then he threw himself upon his horse, and went forward to arthur's court, and the lady he loved best went before him and the dwarf, with much lamentation. and thus far this story up to that time. * * * * * then came the little earl and his hosts to geraint, and saluted him, and bade him to his castle. "i may not go," said geraint, "but where i was last night, there will i be to-night also." "since thou wilt none of my inviting, thou shall have abundance of all that i can command for thee, in the place thou wast last night. and i will order ointment for thee, to recover thee from thy fatigues, and from the weariness that is upon thee." "heaven reward thee," said geraint, "and i will go to my lodging." and thus went geraint, and earl ynywl, and his wife, and his daughter. and when they reached the chamber, the household servants and attendants of the young earl had arrived at the court, and they arranged all the houses, dressing them with straw and with fire; and in a short time the ointment was ready, and geraint came there, and they washed his head. then came the young earl, with forty honourable knights from among his attendants, and those who were bidden to the tournament. and geraint came from the anointing. and the earl asked him to go to the hall to eat. "where is the earl ynywl," said geraint, "and his wife, and his daughter?" "they are in the chamber yonder," said the earl's chamberlain, "arraying themselves in garments which the earl has caused to be brought for them." "let not the damsel array herself," said he, "except in her vest and her veil, until she come to the court of arthur, to be clad by gwenhwyvar, in such garments as she may choose." so the maiden did not array herself. then they all entered the hall, and they washed, and went, and sat down to meat. and thus were they seated. on one side of geraint sat the young earl, and earl ynywl beyond him; and on the other side of geraint was the maiden and her mother. and after these all sat according to their precedence in honour. and they ate. and they were served abundantly, and they received a profusion of divers kind of gifts. then they conversed together. and the young earl invited geraint to visit him next day. "i will not, by heaven," said geraint. "to the court of arthur will i go with this maiden to-morrow. and it is enough for me, as long as earl ynywl is in poverty and trouble; and i go chiefly to seek to add to his maintenance." "ah, chieftain," said the young earl, "it is not by my fault that earl ynywl is without his possessions." "by my faith," said geraint, "he shall not remain without them, unless death quickly takes me hence." "oh, chieftain," said he, "with regard to the disagreement between me and ynywl, i will gladly abide by thy counsel, and agree to what thou mayest judge right between us." {22} "i but ask thee," said geraint, "to restore 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 do gladly, for thee," answered he. "then," said geraint, "whosoever is here who owes homage to ynywl, 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 ynywl. and he received back all that he had lost, even to the smallest jewel. then spoke earl ynywl to geraint. "chieftain," said he "behold the maiden for whom thou didst challenge at the tournament, i bestow her upon thee." "she shall go with me," said geraint, "to the court of arthur; and arthur and gwenhwyvar, they shall dispose of her as they will." and the next day they proceeded to arthur's court. so far concerning geraint. * * * * * now, this is how arthur hunted the stag. the men and the dogs were divided into hunting parties, and the dogs were let loose upon the stag. and the last dog that was let loose was the favourite dog of arthur. cavall was his name. and he left all the other dogs behind him, and turned the stag. and at the second turn, the stag came towards the hunting party of arthur. and arthur set upon him. and before he could be slain by any other, arthur cut off his head. then they sounded the death horn for slaying, and they all gathered round. then came kadyrieith to arthur, and spoke to him. "lord," said he, "behold yonder is gwenhwyvar, and none with her save only one maiden." "command gildas the son of caw, and all the scholars of the court," said arthur, "to attend gwenhwyvar to the palace." and they did so. then they all set forth, holding converse together concerning the head of the stag, to whom it should be given. one wished that it should be given to the lady best beloved by him, and another to the lady whom he loved best. and all they of the household and the knights disputed sharply concerning the head. and with that they came to the palace. and when arthur and gwenhwyvar heard them disputing about the head of the stag, gwenhwyvar said to arthur, "my lord, this is my counsel concerning the stag's head; let it not be given away until geraint the son of erbin shall return from the errand he is upon." and gwenhwyvar told arthur what that errand was. "right gladly shall it be so," said arthur. and thus it was settled. and the next day gwenhwyvar caused a watch to be set upon the ramparts for geraint's coming. and after mid-day they beheld an unshapely little man upon a horse, and after him, as they supposed, 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 worthless armour. and before they came near to the gate, one of the watch went to gwenhwyvar, 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 gwenhwyvar, "this is the knight whom geraint pursued, and methinks that he comes not here by 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 spot where gwenhwyvar was. "lady," said he, "at the gate there is a knight, and i saw never a man of so pitiful an aspect to look upon as he. miserable and broken is the armour that he wears, and the hue of blood is more conspicuous upon it than its own colour." "knowest thou his name?" said she. "i do," said he, "he tells me that he is edeyrn the son of nudd." then she replied, "i know him not." so gwenhwyvar went to the gate to meet him, and he entered. and gwenhwyvar was sorry when she saw the condition he was in, even though he was accompanied by the churlish dwarf. then edeyrn saluted gwenhwyvar. "heaven protect thee," said she. "lady," said he, "geraint the son of erbin, thy best and most valiant servant, greets thee." "did he meet with thee?" she asked. "yes," said he, "and it was not to my advantage; and that was not his fault, but mine, lady. and geraint greets thee well; and in greeting thee he compelled me to come hither to do thy pleasure for the insult which thy maiden received from the dwarf. he forgives the insult to himself, in consideration of his having put me in peril of my life. and he imposed on me a condition, manly, and honourable, and warrior-like, which was to do thee justice, lady." "now, where did he overtake thee?" "at the place where we were jousting, and contending for the sparrow-hawk, in the town which is now called cardiff. and there were none with him, save three persons, of a mean and tattered condition. and these were an aged, hoary-headed man and a woman advanced in years, and a fair young maiden, clad in worn-out garments. and it was for the avouchment of the love of that maiden that geraint jousted for the sparrow-hawk at the tournament; for he said that that maiden was better entitled to the sparrow-hawk than this maiden who was with me. and thereupon we encountered each other, and he left me, lady, as thou seest." "sir," said she, "when thinkest thou that geraint will be here?" "to-morrow, lady, i think he will be here with the maiden." then arthur came to him, and he saluted arthur, and arthur gazed a long time upon him, and was amazed to see him thus. and thinking that he knew him, he enquired of him, "art thou edeyrn the son of nudd?" "i am, lord," said he, "and i have met with much trouble, and received wounds unsupportable." then he told arthur all his adventure. "well," said arthur, "from what i hear, it behoves gwenhwyvar to be merciful towards thee." "the mercy which thou desirest, lord," said she, "will i grant to him, since it is as insulting to thee that an insult should be offered to me as to thyself." "thus will it be best to do," said arthur, "let this man have medical care until it be known whether he may live. and if he live, he shall do such satisfaction as shall be judged best by the men of the court; and take thou sureties to that effect. and it he die, too much will be the death of such a youth as edeyrn for an insult to a maiden." "this pleases me," said gwenhwyvar. and arthur became surety for edeyrn, and caradawc the son of llyr, gwallawg the son of llenawg, and owain the son of nudd, and gwalchmai, and many others with them. and arthur caused morgan tud to be called to him. he was the chief physician. "take with thee edeyrn the son of nudd, and cause a chamber to be prepared for him, and let him have the aid of medicine as thou wouldest do unto myself if i were wounded, and let none into his chamber to molest him, but thyself and thy disciples, to administer to him remedies." "i will do so, gladly, lord," said morgan tud. then said the steward of the household, "whither is it right, lord, to order the maiden?" "to gwenhwyvar and her and maidens," said he. and the steward of the household so ordered her. thus far concerning them. * * * * * the next day came geraint towards the court, and there was a watch set on the ramparts by gwenhwyvar, lest he should arrive unawares. and one of the watch came to the place where gwenhwyvar was. "lady," said he, "methinks that i see geraint, and the maiden with him. he is on horseback, but he has his walking gear upon him, and the maiden appears to be in white, seeming to be clad in a garment of linen." "assemble all the women," said gwenhwyvar, "and come to meet geraint, to welcome him, and wish him joy." and gwenhwyvar went to meet geraint and the maiden. and when geraint came to the place where gwenhwyvar was, he saluted her. "heaven prosper thee," said she, "and welcome to thee. and thy career has been successful, and fortunate, and resistless, and glorious. and heaven reward thee, that thou hast so proudly caused me to have retribution." "lady," said he, "i earnestly desired to obtain thee satisfaction according to thy will; and, behold, here is the maiden through whom thou hadst thy revenge." "verily," said gwenhwyvar, "the welcome of heaven be unto her; and it is fitting that we should receive her joyfully." then they went in, and dismounted. and geraint came to where arthur was, and saluted him. "heaven protect thee," said arthur, "and the welcome of heaven be unto thee. and since {27} edeyrn the son of nudd has received his overthrow and wounds from thy hands, thou hadst had a prosperous career." "not upon me be the blame," said geraint, "it was through the arrogance of edeyrn the son of nudd himself that we were not friends. i would not quit him until i knew who he was, and until the one had vanquished the other." "now," said arthur, "where is the maiden for whom i heard thou didst give challenge?" "she is gone with gwenhwyvar to her chamber." then went arthur to see the maiden. and arthur, and all his companions, and his whole court, were glad concerning the maiden. and certain were they all, that had her array been suitable to her beauty, they had never seen a maid fairer than she. and arthur gave away the maiden to geraint. and the usual bond made between two persons was made between geraint and the maiden, and the choicest of all gwenhwyvar's apparel was given to the maiden; and thus arrayed, she appeared comely and graceful to all who beheld her. and that day and that night were spent in abundance of minstrelsy, and ample gifts of liquor, and a multitude of games. and when it was time for them to go to sleep, they went. and in the chamber where the couch of arthur and gwenhwyvar was, the couch of geraint and enid was prepared. and from that time she became his bride. and the next day arthur satisfied all the claimants upon geraint with bountiful gifts. and the maiden took up her abode in the palace, and she had many companions, both men and women, and there was no maiden more esteemed than she in the island of britain. then spake gwenhwyvar. "rightly did i judge," said she, "concerning the head of the stag, that it should not be given to any until geraint's return; and, behold, here is a fit occasion for bestowing it. let it be given to enid, the daughter of ynywl, the most illustrious maiden. and i do not believe that any will begrudge it her, for between her and every one here there exists nothing but love and friendship." much applauded was this by them all, and by arthur also. and the head of the stag was given to enid. and thereupon her fame increased, and her friends thenceforward became more in number than before. and geraint from that time forth loved the stag, and the tournament, and hard encounters; and he came victorious from them all. and a year, and a second, and a third, he proceeded thus, until his fame had flown over the face of the kingdom. and once upon a time, arthur was holding his court at caerlleon upon usk, at whitsuntide. and, behold, there came to him ambassadors, wise and prudent, full of knowledge, and eloquent of speech, and they saluted arthur. "heaven prosper you," said arthur, "and the welcome of heaven be unto you. and whence do you come?" "we come, lord," said they, "from cornwall; and we are ambassadors from erbin the son of custennin, thy uncle, and our mission is unto thee. and he greets thee well, as an uncle should greet his nephew, and as a vassal should greet his lord. and he represents unto thee that he waxes heavy and feeble, and is advancing in years. and the neighbouring chiefs knowing this, grow insolent towards him, and covet his land and possessions. and he earnestly beseeches thee, lord, to permit geraint his son to return to him, to protect his possessions, and to become acquainted with his boundaries. and unto him he represents that it were better for him to spend the flower of his youth, and the prime of his age, in preserving his own boundaries, than in tournaments, which are productive of no profit, although he obtains glory in them." "well," said arthur, "go, and divest yourselves of your accoutrements, and take food, and refresh yourselves after your fatigues; and before you go forth hence you shall have an answer." and they went to eat. and arthur considered that it would go hard with him to let geraint depart from him and from his court; neither did he think it fair that his cousin should be restrained from going to protect his dominions and his boundaries, seeing that his father was unable to do so. no less was the grief and regret of gwenhwyvar, and all her women, and all her damsels, through fear that the maiden would leave them. and that day and that night were spent in abundance of feasting. and arthur showed geraint the cause of the mission, and of the coming of the ambassadors to him out of cornwall. "truly," said geraint, "be it to my advantage or disadvantage, lord, i will do according to thy will concerning this embassy." "behold," said arthur, "though it grieves me to part with thee, it is my counsel that thou go to dwell in thine own dominions, and to defend thy boundaries, and to take with thee to accompany thee as many as thou wilt of those thou lovest best among my faithful ones, and among thy friends, and among thy companions in arms." "heaven reward thee; and this will i do," said geraint. "what discourse," said gwenhwyvar, "do i hear between you? is it of those who are to conduct geraint to his country?" "it is," said arthur. "then is it needful for me to consider," said she, "concerning companions and a provision for the lady that is with me?" "thou wilt do well," said arthur. and that night they went to sleep. and the next day the ambassadors were permitted to depart, and they were told that geraint should follow them. and on the third day geraint set forth, and many went with him. gwalchmai the son of gwyar, and riogonedd the son of the king of ireland, and ondyaw the son of the duke of burgandy, gwilim the son of the ruler of the franks, howel the son of emyr of brittany, elivry, and nawkyrd, gwynn the son of tringad, goreu the son of custennin, gweir gwrhyd vawr, garannaw the son of golithmer, peredur the son of evrawc, gwynnllogell, gwyr a judge in the court of arthur, dyvyr the son of alun of dyved, gwrei gwalstawd ieithoedd, bedwyr the son of bedrawd, hadwry the son of gwryon, kai the son of kynyr, odyar the frank, the steward of arthur's court, and edeyrn the son of nudd. said geraint, "i think that i shall have enough of knighthood with me." "yes," said arthur, "but it will not be fitting for thee to take edeyrn with thee, although he is well, until peace shall be made between him and gwenhwyvar." "gwenhwyvar can permit him to go with me, if he gives sureties." "if she please, she can let him go without sureties, for enough of pain and affliction has he suffered for the insult which the maiden received from the dwarf." "truly," said gwenhwyvar, "since it seems well to thee and to geraint, i will do this gladly, lord." then she permitted edeyrn freely to depart. and many there were who accompanied geraint, and they set forth; and never was there seen a fairer host journeying towards the severn. and on the other side of the severn were the nobles of erbin the son of custennin, and his foster father at their head, to welcome geraint with gladness; and many of the women of the court, with his mother, came to receive enid the daughter of ynywl, his wife. and there was great rejoicing and gladness throughout the whole court, and throughout all the country, concerning geraint, because of the greatness of their love towards him, and of the greatness of the fame which he had gained since he went from amongst them, and because he was come to take possession of his dominions, and to preserve his boundaries. and they came to the court. and in the court they had ample entertainment, and a multitude of gifts, and abundance of liquor, and a sufficiency of service, and a variety of minstrelsy and of games. and to do honour to geraint, all the chief men of the country were invited that night to visit him. and they passed that day and that night in the utmost enjoyment. and 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 an 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 vigour and of thy youth: henceforth do thou preserve thy possessions." "truly," said geraint, "with my consent thou shalt not give the power over thy dominions at this time into my hands, and thou shall 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." then said gwalchmai, "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 kadyrieith came to them, to know what were their requests. and every one asked that which he desired. and the followers of arthur began to make gifts and immediately the men of cornwall came, and gave also. and they were not long in giving, so eager was every one to bestow gifts. and of those who came to ask gifts, none departed unsatisfied. and that day and that night were spent in the utmost enjoyment. and the next day, at dawn, erbin desired geraint to send messengers to the men, to ask them whether it was displeasing to them that he should come to receive their homage, and whether they had anything to object to him. then geraint sent ambassadors to the men of cornwall, to ask them this. and they all said that it would be the fulness of joy and honour to them for geraint to come and receive their homage. so he received the homage of such as were there. and they remained with him till the third night. and the day after the followers of arthur intended to go away. "it is too soon for you to go away yet," said he, "stay with me until i have finished receiving the homage of my chief men, who have agreed to come to me." and they remained with him until he had done so. then they set forth towards the court of arthur; and geraint went to bear them company, and enid also, as far as diganhwy: there they parted. then ondyaw the son of the duke of burgundy said to geraint, "go first of all, and visit the uttermost parts of thy dominions, and see well to the boundaries of thy territories; and if thou hast any trouble respecting them, send unto thy companions." "heaven reward thee," said geraint, "and this will i do." and geraint journeyed to the uttermost part 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, as he had been used to do when he was at arthur's court, he frequented tournaments. and he became acquainted with valiant and mighty men, until he had gained as much fame there as he had formerly done elsewhere. and he enriched his court, and his companions, and his nobles, with the best horses, and the best arms, and with the best and most valuable jewels, and he ceased not until his fame had flown over the face of the whole kingdom. and when he knew that it was thus, he began to love ease and pleasure, for there was no one who was worth his opposing. and he loved his wife, and liked to continue in the palace, with minstrelsy and diversions. and for a long time he abode at home. and after that he began to shut himself up in the chamber of his wife, and he took no delight in anything besides, insomuch that he gave up the friendship of his nobles, together with his hunting and his amusements, and lost the hearts of all the host in his court; and there was murmuring and scoffing concerning him among the inhabitants of the palace, on account of his relinquishing so completely their companionship for the love of his wife. and these tidings came to erbin. and when erbin had heard these things, he spoke unto enid, and enquired of her whether it was she that had caused geraint to act thus, and to forsake his people and his hosts. "not i, by my confession unto heaven," said she; "there is nothing more hateful to me than this." and she knew not what she should do, for, although it was hard for her to own this to geraint, yet was it not more easy for her to listen to what she heard without warning geraint concerning it. and she was very sorrowful. and one morning in the summer time, they were upon their couch, and geraint lay upon the edge of it. and enid was without sleep in the apartment, which had windows of glass. and the sun shone upon the couch. and the clothes had slipped from off his arms and his breast, and he was asleep. then she gazed upon the marvellous beauty of his appearance, and she said, "alas, and am i the cause that these arms and this breast have lost their glory and the warlike fame which they once so richly enjoyed!" and as she said this, the tears dropped from her eyes, and they fell upon his breast. and the tears she shed, and the words she had spoken, awoke him; and another thing contributed to awaken him, and that was the idea that it was not in thinking of him that she spoke thus, but that it was because she loved some other man more than him, and that she wished for other society, and thereupon geraint was troubled in his mind, and he called his squire; and when he came to him, "go quickly," said he, "and prepare my horse and my arms, and make them ready. and do thou arise," said he to enid, "and apparel thyself; and cause thy horse to be accoutred, and clothe thee in the worst riding dress that thou hast in thy possession. and evil betide me," said he, "if thou returnest here until thou knowest whether i have lost my strength so completely as thou didst say. and if it be so, it will then be easy for thee to seek the society thou didst wish for of him of whom thou wast thinking." so she arose, and clothed herself in her meanest garments. "i know nothing, lord," said she, "of thy meaning." "neither wilt thou know at this time," said he. then geraint went to see erbin. "sir," said he, "i am going upon a quest, and i am not certain when i may come back. take heed, therefore, unto thy possessions, until my return." "i will do so," said he, "but it is strange to me that thou shouldst go so suddenly. and who will proceed with thee, since thou art not strong enough to traverse the land of lloegyr alone." "but one person only will go with me." "heaven counsel thee, my son," said erbin, "and may many attach themselves to thee in lloegyr." then went geraint to the place where his horse was, and it was equipped with foreign armour, heavy and shining. and he desired enid to mount her horse, and to ride forward, and to keep a long way before him. "and whatever thou mayest see, and whatever thou mayest hear, concerning me," said he, "do thou not turn back. and unless i speak unto thee, say not thou one word either." and they set forward. and he did not choose the pleasantest and most frequented road, but that which was the wildest and most beset by thieves, and robbers, and venomous animals. and they came to a high road, which they followed till they saw a vast forest, and they went towards it, and they saw four armed horsemen come forth from the forest. when they had beheld them, one of them said to the other, "behold, here is a good occasion for us to capture two horses and armour, and a lady likewise; for this we shall have no difficulty in doing against yonder single knight, who hangs his head so pensively and heavily." and enid heard this discourse, and she knew not what she should do through fear of geraint, who had told her to be silent. "the vengeance of heaven be upon me," she said, "if i would not rather receive my death from his hand than from the hand of any other; and though he should slay me, yet will i speak to him, lest i should have the misery to witness his death." {36a} so she waited for geraint until he came near to her. "lord," said she, "didst thou hear the words of those men concerning thee?" then he lifted up his eyes, and looked at her angrily. "thou hadst only," said he, "to hold thy peace as i bade thee. i wish but for silence and not for warning. {36b} and though thou shouldst desire to see my defeat and my death by the hands of those men, yet do i feel no dread." then the foremost of them couched his lance, and rushed upon geraint. and he received him, and that not feebly. but he let the thrust go by him, while he struck the horseman upon the centre of his shield in such a manner, that his shield was split, and his armour broken, and so that a cubit's length of the shaft of geraint's lance passed through his body, and sent him to the earth the length of the lance over his horse's crupper. then the second horseman attacked him furiously, being wroth at the death of his companion. but with one thrust geraint overthrew him also, and killed him as he had done the other. then the third set upon him, and he killed him in like manner. and thus also he slew the fourth. sad and sorrowful was the maiden as she saw all this. geraint dismounted his horse, and took the arms of the men he had slain, and placed them upon their saddles, and tied together the reins of their horses, and he mounted his horse again. "behold what thou must do," said he, "take the four horses, and drive them before thee, and proceed forward, as i bade thee just now. and say not one word unto me, unless i speak first unto thee. and i declare unto heaven," said he, "if thou doest not thus, it will be to thy cost." "i will do, as far as i can, lord," said she, "according to thy desire." then they went forward through the forest; and when they left the forest, they came to a vast plain, in the centre of which was a group of thickly tangled copse-wood; and from out thereof they beheld three horsemen coming towards them, well equipped with armour, both they and their horses. then the maiden looked steadfastly upon them; and when they had come near, she heard them say one to another, "behold, here is a good arrival for us, here are coming for us four horses and four suits of armour. we shall easily obtain them spite of yonder dolorous knight, and the maiden also will fall into our power." "this is but too true," said she to herself, "for my husband is tired with his former combat. the vengeance of heaven will be upon me, unless i warn him of this." so the maiden waited until geraint came up to her. "lord," said she, "dost thou not hear the discourse of yonder men concerning thee?" "what was it?" asked he. "they say to one another, that they will easily obtain all this spoil." "i declare to heaven," he answered, "that their words are less grievous to me than that thou wilt not be silent, and abide by my counsel." "my lord," said she, "i feared lest they should surprise thee unawares." "hold thy peace then," said he, "do not i desire silence?" {38} and thereupon one of the horsemen couched his lance, and attacked geraint. and he made a thrust at him, which he thought would be very effective; but geraint received it carelessly, and struck it aside, and then he rushed upon him, and aimed at the centre of his person, and from the shock of man and horse, the quantity of his armour did not avail him, and the head of the lance and part of the shaft passed through him, so that he was carried to the ground an arm and a spear's length over the crupper of his horse. and both the other horsemen came forward in their turn, but their onset was not more successful than that of their companion. and the maiden stood by, looking at all this; and on the one hand she was in trouble lest geraint should be wounded in his encounter with the men, and on the other hand she was joyful to see him victorious. then geraint dismounted, and bound the three suits of armour upon the three saddles, and he fastened the reins of all the horses together, so that he had seven horses with him. and he mounted his own horse, and commanded the maiden to drive forward the others. "it is no more use for me to speak to thee than to refrain, for thou wilt not attend to my advice." "i will do so, as far i am able, lord," said she; "but i cannot conceal from thee the fierce and threatening words which i may hear against thee, lord, from such strange people as those that haunt this wilderness." "i declare to heaven," said he, "that i desire nought but silence; therefore, hold thy peace." {39} "i will, lord, while i can." and the maiden went on with the horses before her, and she pursued her way straight onwards. and from the copse-wood already mentioned, they journeyed over a vast and dreary open plain. 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. then there came from out the wood five horsemen, eager, and bold, and mighty, and strong, mounted upon chargers that were powerful, and large of bone, and high-mettled, and proudly snorting, and both the men and the horses were well equipped with arms. 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 and without labour, 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 maiden upon hearing this discourse, so that she knew not in the world what she should do. at last, however, she determined to warn geraint; so she turned her horse's head towards him. "lord," said she, "if thou hadst heard as i did what yonder horsemen said concerning thee, thy heaviness would be greater than it is." 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, behold, the men met them, and victoriously and gallantly did geraint overcome them all five. and he placed the five suits of armour upon the five saddles, and tied together the reins of the twelve horses, and gave them in charge to enid. "i know not," said he, "what good it is for me to order thee; but this time i charge thee in an especial manner." so the maiden went forward towards the wood, keeping in advance of geraint, as he had desired her; and it grieved him as much as his wrath would permit, to see a maiden so illustrious as she having so much trouble with the care of the horses. then they reached the wood, and it was both deep and vast; and in the wood night overtook them. "ah, maiden," said he, "it is vain to attempt proceeding forward!" "well, lord," said she, "whatsoever 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," said she. and they did so. having dismounted himself, he took her down from her horse. "i cannot, by any means, refrain from sleep, through weariness," said he. "do thou, therefore, watch the horses, and sleep not." "i will, lord," said she. then he went to sleep in his armour, and thus passed the night, which was not long at that season. and when she saw the dawn of day appear, she looked around her, to see if he were waking, and thereupon he woke. "my lord," she said, "i have desired to awake thee for some time." but he spake nothing to her about fatigue, {40} as he had desired her to be silent. then he arose, and said unto her, "take the horses, and ride on; and keep straight on before thee as thou didst yesterday." and early in the day they left the wood, and they came to an open country, with meadows on one hand, and mowers mowing the meadows. and there was a river before them, and the horses bent down, and drank the water. and they went up out of the river by a lofty steep; and there they met a slender stripling, with a satchel about his neck, and they saw that there was something in the satchel, but they knew not what it was. and he had a small blue pitcher in his hand, and a bowl on the mouth of the pitcher. and the youth saluted geraint. "heaven prosper thee," said geraint, "and whence dost thou come?" "i come," said he, "from the city that lies before thee. my lord," he added, "will it be displeasing to thee, if i ask whence thou comest also?" "by no means--through yonder wood did i come." "thou camest not through the wood to-day." "no," he replied, "we were in the wood last night." "i warrant," said the youth, "that thy condition there last night was not the most pleasant, and that thou hadst neither meat nor drink." "no, by my faith," said he. "wilt thou follow my counsel," said the youth, "and take thy meal from me?" "what sort of meal?" he enquired. "the breakfast which is sent for yonder mowers, nothing less than bread and meat, and wine; and if thou wilt, sir, they shall have none of it." "i will," said he, "and heaven reward thee for it." so geraint alighted, and the youth took the maiden from off her horse. then they washed, and took their repast. and the youth cut the bread in slices, and gave them drink, and served them withal. and when they had finished, the youth arose, and said to geraint, "my lord, with thy permission i will now go and fetch some food for the mowers." "go, first, to the town," said geraint, "and take a lodging for me in the best place that thou knowest, and the most commodious one for the horses, and take thou whichever horse and arms thou choosest in payment for thy service and thy gift." "heaven reward thee, lord," said the youth, "and this would be ample to repay services much greater than those i rendered unto thee." and to the town went the youth, and he took the best and the most pleasant lodgings that he knew; and after that he went to the palace, having the horse and armour with him, and proceeded to the place where the earl was, and told him all his adventure. "i go now, lord," said he, "to meet the young man, and to conduct him to his lodging." "go gladly," said the earl, "and right joyfully shall he be received here, if he so come." and the youth went to meet geraint, and told him that he would be received gladly by the earl in his own palace; but he would go only to his lodgings. and he had a goodly chamber, in which was plenty of straw, and draperies, and a spacious and commodious place he had for the horses, and the youth prepared for them plenty of provender. and after they had disarrayed themselves, geraint spoke thus to enid: "go," said he, "to the other side of the chamber, and come not to this side of the house; and thou mayest call to thee the woman of the house, if thou wilt." "i will do, lord," said she, "as thou sayest." and thereupon the man of the house came to geraint, and welcomed him. "oh, chieftain," he said, "hast thou taken thy meal?" "i have," said he. then the youth spoke to him, and enquired if he would not drink something before he met the earl. "truly, i will," said he. so the youth went into the town, and brought them drink. and they drank. "i must needs sleep," said geraint. "well," said the youth, "and whilst thou sleepest, i will go to see the earl." "go, gladly," he said, "and come here again when i require thee." and geraint went to sleep, and so did enid also. and the youth came to the place where the earl was, and the earl asked him where the lodgings of the knight were, and he told him. "i must go," said the youth, "to wait on him in the evening." "go," answered the earl, "and greet him well from me, and tell him that in the evening i will go to see him." "this will i do," said the youth. so he came when it was time for them to awake. and they arose, and went forth. and when it was time for them to take their food they took it. and the youth served them. and geraint enquired of the man of the house, whether there were any of his companions that he wished to invite to him, and he said that there were. "bring them hither, and entertain them at my cost with the best thou canst buy in the town." and the man of the house brought there those whom he chose, and feasted them at geraint's expense. thereupon, behold, the earl came to visit geraint, and his twelve honourable knights with him. and geraint rose up, and welcomed him. "heaven preserve thee," said the earl. then they all sat down according to their precedence in honour. and the earl conversed with geraint and enquired of him the object of his journey. "i have none," he replied, "but to seek adventures, and to follow my own inclination." 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 all his thoughts and his affections upon her. then he asked of geraint, "have i thy permission to go and converse with yonder maiden, for i see that she is apart from thee?" "thou hast it, gladly," said he. so the earl went to the place where the maiden was, and spake with her. "ah, maiden," said he, "it cannot be pleasant to thee to journey thus with yonder man!" "it is not unpleasant to me," said she, "to journey the same road that he journeys." "thou hast neither youths nor maidens to serve thee," said he. "truly," she replied, "it is more pleasant for me to follow yonder man than to be served by youths and maidens." "i will give thee good counsel," said he. "all my earldom will i place in thy possession, if thou wilt dwell with me." "that will i not, by heaven," she said, "yonder man was the first to whom my faith was ever pledged; and shall i prove inconstant to him?" "thou art in the wrong," said the earl; "if i slay the man yonder, i can keep thee with me as long as i choose; and when thou no longer pleasest me, i can turn thee away. but if thou goest with me by thy own good will, i protest that our union shall continue eternal and undivided as long as i remain alive." then she pondered these words of his, and she considered that it was advisable to encourage him in his request. "behold, then, chieftain, this is most expedient for thee to do to save me any needless imputation; come here to-morrow, and take me away as though i knew nothing thereof." "i will do so," said he. so he arose, and took his leave, and went forth with his attendants. and she told not then to geraint any of the conversation which she had had with the earl, lest it should rouse his anger, and cause him uneasiness and care. and at the usual hour they went to sleep. and at the beginning of the night enid slept a little; and at midnight she arose, and placed all geraint's armour together, so that it might be ready to put on. and although fearful of her errand, she came to the side of geraint's bed; and she spoke to him softly and gently, saying, "my lord, arise, and clothe thyself, for these were the words of the earl to me, and his intention concerning me." so she told geraint all that had passed. and although he was wroth with her, he took warning, and clothed himself. and she lighted a candle, that he might have light to do so. "leave there the candle," said he, "and desire the man of the house to come here." then she went, and the man of the house came to him. "dost thou know how much i owe thee?" asked geraint. "i think thou owest but little." "take the eleven horses and the eleven suits of armour." "heaven reward thee, lord," said he, "but i spent not the value of one suit of armour upon thee." "for that reason," said he, "thou wilt be the richer. and now wilt thou come to guide me out of the town?" "i will, gladly," said he, "and in which direction dost thou intend to go?" "i wish to leave the town by a different way from that by which i entered it." so the man of the lodgings accompanied him as far as he desired. then he bade the maiden to go on before him; and she did so, and went straight forward, and his host returned home. and he had only just reached his house, when, behold, the greatest tumult approached that was ever heard. and when he looked out he saw fourscore knights in complete armour around the house, with the earl dwrm 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." "what way dost thou think that he took?" "i know not, except that he went along the high road." and they turned their horses' heads that way, and seeing the tracks of the horses upon the high road, they followed. and when the maiden beheld the dawning of the day, she looked behind her, and saw vast clouds of dust coming nearer and nearer to her. and thereupon she became uneasy, and she thought that it was the earl and his host coming after them. and thereupon she beheld a knight appearing through the mist. "by my faith," said she, "though he should slay me, it were better for me to receive my death at his hands, than to see him killed without warning him." "my lord," she said to him, "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." then he turned upon the knight, and with the first thrust he threw him down under his horse's feet. and as long as there remained one of the fourscore knights, he overthrew every one of them at the first onset. and from the weakest to the strongest, they all attacked him one after the other, except the earl: and last of all the earl came against him also. and he broke his lance, and then he broke a second. but geraint turned upon him, and struck him with his lance upon the centre of his shield, so that by that single thrust the shield was split, and all his armour broken, and he himself was brought over his horse's crupper to the ground, and was in peril of his life. and geraint drew near to him; and at the noise of the trampling of his horse the earl revived. "mercy, lord," said he to geraint. and geraint granted him mercy. but through the hardness of the ground where they had fallen, and the violence of the stroke which they had received, there was not a single knight amongst them that escaped without receiving a fall, mortally severe, and grievously painful, and desperately wounding, from the hand of geraint. {picture: p48.jpg} and geraint journeyed along the high road that was before him, and the maiden went on first; and near them they beheld a valley which was the fairest ever seen, and which had a large river running through it; and there was a bridge over the river, and the high road led to the bridge. and above the bridge, upon the opposite side of the river, they beheld a fortified town, the fairest ever seen. and as they approached the bridge, geraint saw coming towards him from a thick copse a man mounted upon a large and lofty steed, even of pace and spirited though tractable. "ah, knight," said geraint, "whence comest thou?" "i come," said he "from the valley below us." "canst thou tell me," said geraint, "who is the owner of this fair valley and yonder walled town?" "i will tell thee, willingly," said he, "gwiffert petit he is called by the franks, but the welsh call him the little king." "can i go by yonder bridge," said geraint, "and by the lower highway that is beneath the town?" said the knight, "thou canst not go by his tower {47a} on the other side of the bridge, unless thou dost intend to combat him; because it is his custom to encounter every knight that comes upon his lands." "i declare to heaven," said geraint, "that i will, nevertheless, pursue my journey that way." {47b} "if thou dost so," said the knight, "thou wilt probably meet with shame and disgrace in reward for thy daring." {48a} then geraint proceeded along the road that led to the town, and the road brought him to a ground that was hard, and rugged, and high, and ridgy. {48b} and as he journeyed thus, he beheld a knight following him upon a war-horse, strong, and large, and proudly-stepping, and wide-hoofed, and broad-chested. and he never saw a man of smaller stature than he who was upon the horse. and both he and his horse were completely armed. when he had overtaken geraint he said to him, "tell me, chieftain, whether it is through ignorance or through presumption that thou seekest to insult my dignity, and to infringe my rules?" "nay," answered geraint, "i knew not that this road was forbid to any." "thou didst know it," said the other; "come with me to my court, to do me satisfaction." "that will i not, by my faith," said geraint; "i would not go even to thy lord's court, excepting arthur were thy lord." "by the hand of arthur himself," said the knight, "i will have satisfaction of thee, or receive my overthrow at thy hands." and immediately they charged one another. and a squire of his came to serve him with lances as he broke them. and they gave each other such hard and severe strokes, that their shields lost all their colour. but it was very difficult for geraint to fight with him on account of his small size, for he was hardly able to get a full aim at him with all the efforts he could make. {49} and they fought thus until their horses were brought down upon their knees; and at length geraint threw the knight headlong to the ground; and then they fought on foot, and they gave one another blows so boldly fierce, so frequent, and so severely powerful, that their helmets were pierced, and their skullcaps were broken, and their arms were shattered, and the light of their eyes was darkened by sweat and blood. at the last geraint became enraged, and he called to him all his strength; and boldly angry, and swiftly resolute, and furiously determined, he lifted up his sword, and struck him on the crown of his head a blow so mortally painful, so violent, so fierce, and so penetrating, that it cut through all his head armour, and his skin, and his flesh, until it wounded the very bone, and the sword flew out of the hand of the little king to the furthest end of the plain, and he besought geraint that he would have mercy and compassion upon him. "though thou hast been neither courteous nor just," said geraint, "thou shalt have mercy, upon condition that thou wilt become my ally, and engage never to fight against me again, but to come to my assistance whenever thou hearest of my being in trouble." "this will i do, gladly, lord," said he. so he pledged him his faith thereof. "and now, lord, come with me," said he, "to my court yonder, to recover from thy weariness and fatigue." "that will i not, by heaven," said he. then gwiffert petit beheld enid where she stood, and it grieved him to see one of her noble mien appear so deeply afflicted. and he said to geraint, "my lord, thou doest wrong not to take repose, and refresh thyself awhile; for, if thou meetest with any difficulty in thy present condition, it will not be easy for thee to surmount it." but geraint would do no other than proceed on his journey, and he mounted his horse in pain, and all covered with blood. and the maiden went on first, and they proceeded towards the wood which they saw before them. and the heat of the sun was very great, and through the blood and sweat, geraint's armour cleaved to his flesh; and when they came into the wood, he stood under a tree, to avoid the sun's heat; and his wounds pained him more than they had done at the time when he received them. and the maiden stood under another tree. and, lo! they heard the sound of horns, and a tumultuous noise, and the occasion of it was, that arthur and his company had come down to the wood. 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, and told him 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 he, "what dost thou here?" "i am standing under a shady tree, to avoid the heat and the rays of the sun." "wherefore is thy journey, and who art thou?" "i seek adventures, and go where i list." "indeed," said kai, "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 kai. then geraint knew who he was, but kai did not know geraint. and kai attacked geraint as best as he could. and geraint became wroth, and he struck him with the shaft of his lance, so that he rolled headlong to the ground. but chastisement worse than this would he not inflict on him. scared and wildly kai arose, and he mounted his horse, and went back to his lodging. and thence he proceeded to gwalchmai's tent. "oh, sir," said he to gwalchmai, "i was told by one of the attendants, that he saw in the wood above a wounded knight, having on battered armour, and if thou dost right, thou wilt go and see if this be true." "i care not if i do so," said gwalchmai. "take, then, thy horse, and some of thy armour," said kai, "for i hear that he is not over-courteous to those who approach him." so gwalchmai took his spear and his shield, and mounted his horse, and came to the spot where geraint was. "sir knight," said he, "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 and visit arthur," said he. and he knew that it was gwalchmai, but gwalchmai knew him not. "i purpose not to leave thee," said gwalchmai, "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 gwalchmai gazed fixedly upon him, and he knew him. "ah, geraint," said he, "is it thou that art here?" "i am not geraint," said he. "geraint thou art, by heaven," he replied, "and a wretched and insane expedition is this." then he looked around, and beheld enid, and he welcomed her gladly. "geraint," said gwalchmai, "come thou, and see arthur; he is thy lord and thy cousin." "i will not," said he, "for i am not in a fit state to go and see any one." thereupon, behold, one of the pages came after gwalchmai, to speak to him. so he sent him to apprise arthur that geraint was there wounded, and that he would not go 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. "entreat arthur," said he, "to have his tent brought near to 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 him this. and he caused his tent to be removed unto the side of the road. and the maiden rejoiced in her heart. and gwalchmai 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 unto thee." "heaven prosper thee; and who art thou?" said arthur. "it is geraint," said gwalchmai, "and of his own free will would he not come to meet thee." "verily," said arthur, "he is bereft of his reason." 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, lord," said she, "save that it behoves me to journey by the same road that he journeys." "my lord," said geraint, "with thy permission we will depart." "whither wilt thou go?" said arthur. "thou canst not proceed now, unless it be unto thy death." {53} "he will not suffer himself to be invited by me," said gwalchmai. "but by me he will," said arthur; "and, moreover, he does not go from here until he is healed." "i had rather, lord," said geraint, "that thou wouldest let me go forth." "that will i not, i declare to heaven," said he. then he caused a maiden to be sent for to conduct enid to the tent where gwenhwyvar's chamber was. and gwenhwyvar and all her women were joyful at her coming, and they took off her riding dress, and placed other garments upon her. arthur also called kadyrieith, and ordered him to pitch a tent for geraint, and the physicians, and he enjoined him to provide him with abundance of all that might be requisite for him. and kadyrieith did as he had commanded him. and morgan tud and his disciples were brought to geraint. and arthur and his hosts remained there nearly a month, whilst geraint was being healed. and when he was fully recovered, geraint came to arthur, and asked his permission to depart. "i know not if thou art quite well." "in truth i am, lord," said geraint. "i shall not believe thee concerning that, but the physicians that were with thee." so arthur caused the physicians to be summoned to him, and asked them if it were true. "it is true, lord," said morgan tud. so the next day arthur permitted him to go forth, and he pursued his journey. and on the same day arthur removed thence. and geraint desired enid to go on, and to keep before him, as she had formerly done. and she went forward along the high road. and as they journeyed thus, they heard an exceeding loud wailing near to them. "stay thou here," said he, "and i will go and see what is the cause of this wailing." "i will," said she. then he went forward into an open glade that was near the road. and in the glade he saw two horses, one having a man's saddle, and the other a woman's saddle upon it. and, behold, there was a knight lying dead in his armour, and a young damsel in a riding dress standing over him, lamenting. "ah! lady," said geraint, "what hath befallen thee?" "behold," she answered, "i journeyed here with my beloved husband, when, lo! three giants came upon us, and without any cause in the world, they slew him." "which way went they hence?" said geraint. "yonder by the high road," she replied. so he returned to enid. "go," said he, "to the lady that is below yonder, and await me there till i come." she was sad when he ordered her to do thus, but nevertheless she went to the damsel, whom it was ruth to hear, and she felt certain that geraint would never return. meanwhile geraint followed the giants, and overtook them. and each of them was greater of stature than three other men, and a huge club was on the shoulder of each. then he rushed upon one of them, and thrust his lance through his body. and having drawn it forth again, he pierced another of them through likewise. but the third turned upon him, and struck him with his club, so that he split his shield, and crushed his shoulder, and opened his wounds anew, and all his blood began to flow from him. but geraint drew his sword, and attacked the giant, and gave him a blow on the crown of his head so severe, and fierce, and violent, that his head and his neck were split down to his shoulders, and he fell dead. so geraint left him thus, and returned to enid. and when he saw her, he fell down lifeless from his horse. piercing, and loud, and thrilling was the cry that enid uttered. and she came and stood over him where he had fallen. and at the sound of her cries came the earl of limours, and the host that journeyed with him, whom her lamentations brought out of their road. and the earl said to enid, "alas, lady, what hath befallen thee?" "ah! good sir," said she, "the only man i have loved, or ever shall love, is slain." then he said to the other, "and what is the cause of thy grief?" "they have slain my beloved husband also," said she. "and who was it that slew them?" "some giants," she answered, "slew my best beloved, and the other knight went in pursuit of them, and came back in the state thou seest, his blood flowing excessively; but it appears to me that he did not leave the giants without killing some of them, if not all." the earl caused the knight that was dead to be buried, but he thought that there still remained some life in geraint; and to see if he yet would live, he had him carried with him in the hollow of his shield, and upon a bier. and the two damsels went to the court; and when they arrived there, geraint was placed upon a litter-couch in front of the table that was in the hall. then they all took off their travelling gear, and the earl besought enid to do the same, and to clothe herself in other garments. "i will not, by heaven," said she. "ah! lady," said he, "be not so sorrowful for this matter." "it were hard to persuade me to be otherwise," said she. "i will act towards thee in such wise, that thou needest not be sorrowful, whether yonder knight live or die. behold, a good earldom, together with myself, will i bestow on thee; be, therefore, happy and joyful." "i declare to heaven," said she, "that henceforth i shall never be joyful while i live." "come, then," said he, "and eat." "no, by heaven, i will not," she answered. "but by heaven thou shalt," said he. so he took her with him to the table against her will, and many times desired her to eat. "i call heaven to witness," said she, "that i will not eat until the man that is upon yonder bier shall eat likewise." "thou canst not fulfil that," said the earl, "yonder man is dead already." "i will prove that i can," said she. then he offered her a goblet of liquor. "drink this goblet," he said, "and it will cause thee to change thy mind." "evil betide me," she answered, "if i drink aught until he drink also." "truly," said the earl, "it is of no more avail for me to be gentle with thee than ungentle." and he gave her a box in the ear. thereupon she raised a loud and piercing shriek, and her lamentations were much greater than they had been before, for she considered in her mind that had geraint been alive, he durst not have struck her thus. but, behold, at the sound of her cry geraint revived from his swoon, and he sat up on the bier, and finding his sword in the hollow of his shield, he rushed to the place where the earl was, and struck him a fiercely-wounding, severely-venomous, and sternly-smiting blow upon the crown of his head, so that he clove him in twain, until his sword was stayed by the table. then all left the board and fled away. and this was not so much through fear of the living as through the dread they felt at seeing the dead man rise up to slay them. and geraint looked upon enid, and he was grieved for two causes; one was, to see that enid had lost her colour and her wonted aspect; and the other, to know that she was in the right. "lady," said he, "knowest thou where our horses are?" "i know, lord, where thy horse is," she replied, "but i know not where is the other. thy horse is in the house yonder." so he went to the house, and brought forth his horse, and mounted him, and took up enid from the ground, and placed her upon the horse with him. and he rode forward. and their road lay between two hedges. and the night was gaining on the day. and, lo! they saw behind them the shafts of spears betwixt them and the sky, and they heard the trampling of horses, and the noise of a host approaching. "i hear something following us," said he, "and i will put thee on the other side of the hedge." and thus he did. and thereupon, behold, a knight pricked towards him, and couched his lance. when enid saw this, she cried out, saying, "oh! chieftain, whoever thou art, what renown wilt thou gain by slaying a dead man?" "oh! heaven," said he, "is it geraint?" "yes, in truth," said she. "and who art thou?" "i am the little king," he answered, "coming to thy assistance, for i heard that thou wast in trouble. and if thou hadst followed my advice, none of these hardships would have befallen thee." "nothing can happen," said geraint, "without the will of heaven, though much good results from counsel." "yes," said the little king, "and i know good counsel for thee now. come with me to the court of a son-inlaw of my sister, which is near here, and thou shalt have the best medical assistance in the kingdom." "i will do so, gladly," said geraint. and enid was placed upon the horse of one of the little king's squires, and they went forward to the baron's palace. and they were received there with gladness, and they met with hospitality and attention. and the next morning they went to seek physicians; and it was not long before they came, and they attended geraint until he was perfectly well. and while geraint was under medical care, the little king caused his armour to be repaired, until it was as good as it had ever been. and they remained there a fortnight and a month. then the little king said to geraint, "now will we go towards my own court, to take rest and amuse ourselves." "not so," said geraint, "we will first journey for one day more, and return again." "with all my heart," said the little king, "do thou go then." and early in the day they set forth. and more gladly and more joyfully did enid journey with them that day than she had ever done. and they came to the main road. and when they reached a place where the road divided in two, they beheld a man on foot coming towards them along one of these roads, and gwiffert asked the man whence he came. "i come," said he, "from an errand in the country." "tell me," said geraint, "which is the best for me to follow of these two roads?" "that is the best for thee to follow," answered he, "for if thou goest by this one, thou wilt never return. below us," said he, "there is a hedge of mist, and within it are enchanted games, and no one who has gone there has ever returned. and the court of the earl owain is there, and he permits no one to go to lodge in the town except he will go to his court." "i declare to heaven," said geraint, "that we will take the lower road." and they went along it until they came to the town. and they took the fairest and pleasantest place in the town for their lodging. and while they were thus, behold, a young man came to them, and greeted them. "heaven be propitious to thee," said they. "good sirs," said he, "what preparations are you making here?" "we are taking up our lodging," said they, "to pass the night." "it is not the custom with him who owns the town," he answered, "to permit any of gentle birth, unless they come to stay in his court, to abide here; therefore, come you to the court." "we will come, gladly," said geraint. and they went with the page, and they were joyfully received. and the earl came to the hall to meet them, and he commanded the tables to be laid. and they washed, and sat down. and this is the order in which they sat, geraint on one side of the earl, and enid on the other side, and next to enid the little king, and then the countess next to geraint, and all after that as became their rank. then geraint recollected the games, and thought that he should not go to them; and on that account he did not eat. then the earl looked upon geraint, and considered, and he bethought him that his not eating was because of the games, and it grieved him that he had ever established those games, were it only on account of losing such a youth as geraint. and if geraint had asked him to abolish the games, he would gladly have done so. then the earl said to geraint, "what thought occupies thy mind, that thou dost not eat? if thou hesitatest about going to the games, thou shall not go, and no other of thy rank shall ever go either." "heaven reward thee," said geraint, "but i wish nothing better than to go to the games, and to be shown the way thither." "if that is what thou dost prefer, thou shalt obtain it willingly." "i do prefer it, indeed," said he. then they ate, and they were amply served, and they had a variety of gifts, and abundance of liquor. and when they had finished eating, they arose. and geraint called for his horse and his armour, and he accoutred both himself and his horse. and all the hosts went forth until they came to the side of the hedge, and the hedge was so lofty, that it reached as high as they could see in the air, and upon every stake in the hedge, except two, there was the head of a man, and the number of stakes throughout the hedge was very great. then said the little king, "may no one go in with the chieftain?" "no one may," said earl owain. "which way can i enter?" enquired geraint. "i know not," said owain, "but enter by the way that thou wilt, and that seemeth easiest to thee." then fearlessly and unhesitatingly geraint dashed forward into the mist. and on leaving the mist he came to a large orchard, and in the orchard he saw an open space, wherein was a tent of red satin, and the door of the tent was open, and an apple-tree stood in front of the door of the tent, and on a branch of the apple-tree hung a huge hunting horn. then he dismounted, and went into the tent, and there was no one in the tent save one maiden sitting in a golden chair, and another chair was opposite to her, empty. and geraint went to the empty chair, and sat down therein. "ah! chieftain," said the maiden, "i would not counsel thee to sit in that chair." "wherefore?" said geraint. "the man to whom that chair belongs has never suffered another to sit in it." "i care not," said geraint, "though it displease him that i sit in the chair." and thereupon they heard a mighty tumult around the tent. and geraint looked to see what was the cause of the tumult. and he beheld without a knight mounted upon a war-horse, proudly-snorting, high-mettled, and large of bone, and a robe of honour in two parts was upon him and upon his horse, and beneath it was plenty of armour. "tell me, chieftain," said he to geraint, "who it was that bade thee sit there?" "myself," answered he. "it was wrong of thee to do me this shame and disgrace. arise, and do me satisfaction for thine insolence." then geraint arose, and they encountered immediately, and they broke a set of lances; and a second set; and a third; and they gave each other fierce and frequent strokes; and at last geraint became enraged, and he urged on his horse, and rushed upon him, and gave him a thrust on the centre of his shield, so that it was split, and so that the head of his lance went through his armour, and his girths were broken, and he himself was borne headlong to the ground the length of geraint's lance and arm, over his horse's crupper. "oh, my lord!" said he, "thy mercy, and thou shalt have what thou wilt." "i only desire," said geraint, "that this game shall no longer exist here, nor the hedge of mist, nor magic, nor enchantment." "thou shalt have this gladly, lord," he replied. "cause then the mist to disappear from this place," said geraint. "sound yonder horn," said he, "and when thou soundest it, the mist will vanish; but it will not go hence unless the horn be blown by the knight by whom i am vanquished." and sad and sorrowful was enid where she remained, through anxiety concerning geraint. then geraint went and sounded the horn. and at the first blast he gave, the mist vanished. and all the hosts came together, and they all became reconciled to each other. and the earl invited geraint and the little king to stay with him that night. and the next morning they separated. and geraint went towards his own dominions; and thenceforth he reigned prosperously, and his warlike fame and splendour lasted with renown and honour both to him and to enid from that time forward. {picture: p62.jpg} kilhwch and olwen or the twrch trwyth {picture: p63.jpg} kilydd, the son of prince kelyddon desired a wife as a helpmate, and the wife that he chose was goleuddydd, the daughter of prince anlawdd. and after their union the people put up prayers that they might have an heir. and they had a son through the prayers of the people. from the time of her pregnancy goleuddydd became wild, and wandered about, without habitation; but when her delivery was at hand, her reason came back to her. then she went to a mountain where there was a swineherd, keeping a herd of swine. and through fear of the swine the queen was delivered. and the swineherd took the boy, and brought him to the palace; and he was christened, and they called him kilhwch, because he had been found in a swine's burrow. nevertheless the boy was of gentle lineage, and cousin unto arthur; and they put him out to nurse. after this the boy's mother, goleuddydd, the daughter of prince anlawdd, fell sick. then she called her husband unto her, and said to him, "of this sickness i shall die, and thou wilt take another wife. now wives are the gift of the lord, but it would be wrong for thee to harm thy son. therefore i charge thee that thou take not a wife until thou see a briar with two blossoms upon my grave." and this he promised her. then she besought him to dress her grave every year, that nothing might grow thereon. {64} so the queen died. now the king sent an attendant every morning to see if anything were growing upon the grave. and at the end of the seventh year the master neglected that which he had promised to the queen. one day the king went to hunt, and he rode to the place of burial, to see the grave, and to know if it were time that he should take a wife; and the king saw the briar. and when he saw it, the king took counsel where he should find a wife. said one of his counsellors, "i know a wife that will suit thee well, and she is the wife of king doged." and they resolved to go to seek her; and they slew the king, and brought away his wife and one daughter that she had along with her. and they conquered the king's lands. on a certain day as the lady walked abroad, she came to the house of an old crone that dwelt in the town, and that had no tooth in her head. and the queen said to her, "old woman, tell me that which i shall ask thee, for the love of heaven. where are the children of the man who has carried me away by violence?" said the crone, "he has not children." said the queen, "woe is me, that i should have come to one who is childless!" then said the hag, "thou needest not lament on account of that, for there is a prediction that he shall have an heir by thee, and by none other. moreover, be not sorrowful, for he has one son." the lady returned home with joy, and she asked her consort, "wherefore hast thou concealed thy children from me?" the king said, "i will do so no longer." and he sent messengers for his son, and he was brought to the court. his stepmother said unto him, "it were well for thee to have a wife, and i have a daughter who is sought of every man of renown in the world." "i am not yet of an age to wed," answered the youth. then said she unto him, "i declare to thee, that it is thy destiny not to be suited with a wife until thou obtain olwen, the daughter of yspaddaden penkawr." and the youth blushed, and the love of the maiden diffused itself through all his frame, although he had never seen her. and his father enquired of him, "what has come over thee, my son, and what aileth thee?" "my stepmother has declared to me, that i shall never have a wife until i obtain olwen, the daughter of yspaddaden penkawr." "that will be easy for thee," answered his father. "arthur is thy cousin. go, therefore, unto arthur, to cut thy hair, and ask this of him as a boon." {picture: p66.jpg} and the youth pricked forth upon a steed with head dappled grey, of four winters old, firm of limb, with shell-formed hoofs, having a bridle of linked gold on his head, and upon him a saddle of costly gold. and in the youth's hand were two spears of silver, sharp, well-tempered, headed with steel, three ells in length, of an edge to wound the wind, and cause blood to flow, and swifter than the fall {66} of the dew-drop from the blade 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: his war-horn was of ivory. before him were two brindled whitebreasted 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 bounded across to the right side, and the one on the right to the left, and like two sea swallows sported around him. and his courser cast up four sods with his four hoofs, like four swallows in the air, about his head, now above, now below. about him was a four-cornered cloth of purple, and an apple of gold was 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, from his knee to the tip of his toe. and the blade of grass bent not beneath him, so light was his courser's tread as he journeyed towards the gate of arthur's palace. spoke the youth, "is there a porter?" "there is; and if thou holdest not thy peace, small will be thy welcome. {67} i am arthur's porter every first day of january. and during every other part of the year but this the office is filled by huandaw, and gogigwc, and llaeskenym, and pennpingyon, who goes upon his head to save his feet, neither towards the sky nor towards the earth, but like a rolling stone upon the floor of the court." "open the portal." "i will not open it." "wherefore not?" "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. but there will be refreshment for thy dogs, and for thy horses; and for thee there will be collops cooked and peppered, and luscious wine and mirthful songs, and food for fifty men shall be brought unto thee in the guest chamber, where the stranger and the sons of other countries eat, who come not unto the precincts of the palace of arthur. thou wilt fare no worse there than thou wouldest with arthur in the court. a lady shall smooth thy couch, and shall lull thee with songs; and early to-morrow morning, when the gate is open for the multitude that came hither to-day, for thee shall it be opened first, and thou mayest sit in the place that thou shall choose in arthur's hall, from the upper end to the lower." said the youth, "that will i not do. if thou openest the gate, it is well. 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, from the top of pengwaed in cornwall to the bottom of dinsol, in the north, and to esgair oervel, in ireland. and all the women in this palace that are pregnant shall lose their offspring; and such as are not pregnant, their hearts shall be turned by illness, so that they shall never bear children from this day forward." "what clamour soever thou mayest make," said glewlwyd gavaelvawr, "against the laws of arthur's palace, shalt thou not enter therein, until i first go and speak with arthur." then glewlwyd went into the hall. and arthur said to him, "hast thou news from the gate?"--"half of my life is past, and half of thine. i was heretofore in kaer se and asse, in sach and salach, in lotor and fotor; and i have been heretofore in india the great and india the lesser; and i was in the battle of dau ynyr, when the twelve hostages were brought from llychlyn. and i have also been in europe, and in africa, and in the islands of corsica, and in caer brythwch, and brythach, and verthach; and i was present when formerly thou didst slay the family of clis the son of merin, and when thou didst slay mil du, the son of ducum, and when thou didst conquer greece in the east. and i have been in caer oeth and annoeth, and in caer nevenhyr; nine supreme sovereigns, handsome men, saw we there, but never did i behold a man of equal dignity with him who is now at the door of the portal." then said arthur, "if walking thou didst enter in here, return thou running. and every one that beholds the light, and every one that opens and shuts the eye, let him show him respect, and serve him, some with gold-mounted drinking horns, others with collops cooked and peppered, until food and drink can be prepared for him. it is unbecoming to keep such a man as thou sayest he is in the wind and the rain." said kai, "by the hand of my friend, if thou wouldest follow my counsel, thou wouldest not break through the laws of the court because of him." "not so, blessed kai, it is an honour to us to be resorted to, and the greater our courtesy, the greater will be our renown, and our fame, and our glory." and glewlwyd came to the gate, and opened the gate before him; and although all dismounted upon the horse-block at the gate, yet did he not dismount, but he rode in upon his charger. then said kilhwch, "greeting be unto thee, sovereign ruler of this island; and be this greeting no less unto the lowest than unto the highest, and be it equally unto thy guests, and thy warriors, and thy chieftains--let all partake of it as completely as thyself. and complete be thy favour, and thy fame, and thy glory, throughout all this island." "greeting unto thee also," said arthur, "sit thou between two of my warriors, and thou shalt have minstrels before thee, and thou shalt enjoy the privileges of a king born to a throne, as long as thou remainest here. and when i dispense my presents to the visitors and strangers in this court, they shall be in thy hand at my commencing." said the youth, "i came not here to consume meat and drink; but if i obtain the boon that i seek, i will requite it thee, and extol thee; and if i have it not, i will bear forth thy dispraise to the four quarters of the world, as far as thy renown has extended." then said arthur, "since thou wilt not remain here, chieftain, thou shalt receive the boon whatsoever thy tongue may name, as far as the wind dries and the rain moistens, and the sun revolves, and the sea encircles, and the earth extends; save only my ship; and my mantle; and caledvwlch, my sword, and rhongomyant, my lance; and wynebgwrthucher, my shield; and carnwenhau, {70a} my dagger; and gwenhwyvar, my wife. by the truth of heaven, thou shalt have it cheerfully, name what thou wilt." "i would that thou bless {70b} my hair." "that shalt be granted thee." and arthur took a golden comb, and scissors, whereof the loops were of silver, and he combed his hair. and arthur enquired of him who he was. "for my heart warms unto thee, and i know that thou art come of my blood. tell me, therefore, who thou art." "i will tell thee," said the youth, "i am kilhwch, the son of kilydd, the son of prince kelyddon, by goleuddydd, my mother, the daughter of prince anlawdd." "that is true," said arthur. "thou art my cousin. whatsoever boon thou mayest ask, thou shalt receive, be it what it may that thy tongue shall name." "pledge the truth of heaven and the faith of thy kingdom thereof." "i pledge it thee, gladly." "i crave of thee then, that thou obtain for me olwen, the daughter of yspaddaden penkawr, and this boon i likewise seek at the hands of thy warriors. i seek it from kai, and bedwyr, and greidawl galldonyd, {71a} and gwythyr the son of greidawl, and greid the son of eri, and kynddelig kyvarwydd, and tathal twyll goleu, and maelwys the son of baeddan, and crychwr {71b} the son of nes, and cubert the son of daere, and percos the son of poch, and lluber beuthach, and corvil bervach, and gwynn the son of nudd, and edeyrn the son of nudd, and gadwy {71c} the son of geraint, and prince fflewddur fflam, and ruawn pebyr the son of dorath, and bradwen the son of moren mynawc, and moren mynawc himself, and dalldav the son of kimin cov, and the son of alun dyved, and the son of saidi, and the son of gwryon, and uchtryd ardywad kad, and kynwas curvagyl, and gwrhyr gwarthegvras, and isperyr ewingath, and gallcoyt govynynat, and duach, and grathach, and nerthach, the sons of gwawrddur kyrvach, (these men came forth from the confines of hell), and kilydd canhastyr, and canastyr kanllaw, and cors cant-ewin, and esgeir gulhwch govynkawn, and drustwrn hayarn, and glewlwyd gavaelvawr, and lloch llawwynnyawc, and aunwas {71d} adeiniawc, and sinnoch the son of seithved, and gwennwynwyn the son of naw, and bedyw the son of seithved, and gobrwy the son of echel vorddwyttwll, and echel vorddwyttwll himself, and mael the son of roycol, and dadweir dallpenn, and garwyli the son of gwythawc gwyr, and gwythawc gwyr himself, and gormant the son of ricca, and menw the son of teirgwaedd, and digon the son of alar, and selyf the son of smoit, {71e} and gusg the son of atheu, and nerth the son of kedarn, and drudwas the son of tryffin, and twrch the son of perif, and twrch the son of annwas, and iona king of france, and sel the son of selgi, and teregud the son of iaen, and sulyen the son of iaen, and bradwen the son of iaen, and moren the son of iaen, and siawn the son of iaen, and cradawc the son of iaen. (they were men of caerdathal, of arthur's kindred on his father's side.) dirmyg the son of kaw, and justic the son of kaw, and etmic the son of kaw, and anghawd the son of kaw, and ovan the son of kaw, and kelin the son of kaw, and connyn the son of kaw, and mabsant the son of kaw, and gwyngad the son of kaw, and llwybyr the son of kaw, and coth the son of kaw, and meilic the son of kaw, and kynwas the son of kaw, and ardwyad the son of kaw, and ergyryad the son of kaw, and neb the son of kaw, and gilda the son of kaw, and calcas the son of kaw, and hueil the son of kaw, (he never yet made a request at the hand of any lord). and samson vinsych, and taliesin the chief of the bards, and mamawyddan the son of llyr, and llary the son of prince kasnar, and ysperni {72a} the son of fflergant king of armorica, and saranhon the son of glythwyr, and llawr eilerw, and annyanniawc the son of menw the son of teirgwaedd, and gwynn the son of nwyvre, and fflam the son of nwyvre, and geraint the son of erbin, and ermid {72b} the son of erbin, and dyvel the son of erbin, and gwynn the son of ermid, and kyndrwyn the son of ermid, and hyveidd unllenn, and eiddon vawr vrydic, and reidwn arwy, and gormant the son of ricca (arthur's brother by his mother's side; the penhynev of cornwall was his father), and llawnrodded varvawc, and nodawl varyf twrch, and berth the son of kado, and rheidwn the son of beli, and iscovan hael, and iscawin the son of panon, and morvran the son of tegid (no one struck him in the battle of camlan by reason of his ugliness; all thought he was an auxiliary devil. hair had he upon him like the hair of a stag). and sandde bryd angel (no one touched him with a spear in the battle of camlan because of his beauty; all thought he was a ministering angel). and kynwyl sant, the third man that escaped from the battle of camlan, (and he was the last who parted from arthur on hengroen his horse). and uchtryd the son of erim, and eus the son of erim, and henwas adeinawg the son of erim, and henbedestyr the son of erim, and sgilti yscawndroed son of erim. (unto these three men belonged these three qualities,--with henbedestyr there was not any one who could keep pace, either on horseback or on foot; with henwas adeinawg, no four-footed beast could run the distance of an acre, much less could it go beyond it; and as to sgilti yscawndroed, when he intended to go upon a message for his lord, he never sought to find a path, but knowing whither he was to go, if his way lay through a wood he went along the tops of the trees. during his whole life, a blade of reed grass bent not beneath his feet, much less did one ever break, so lightly did he tread.) teithi hen the son of gwynhan, (his dominions were swallowed up by the sea and he himself hardly escaped, and he came to arthur; and his knife had this peculiarity, that from the time that he came there, no haft would ever remain upon it, and owing to this a sickness came over him, and he pined away during the remainder of his life, and of this he died). and carneddyr the son of govynyon hen, and gwenwynwyn the son of nav gyssevin, arthur's champion, and llysgadrudd emys, and gwrbothu hen, (uncles unto arthur were they, his mother's brothers). kulvanawyd the son of goryon, and llenlleawg {74a} wyddel from the headland of ganion, and dyvynwal moel, and dunard king of the north, teirnon twryf bliant, and tegvan gloff, and tegyr talgellawg, gwrdinal {74b} the son of ebrei, and morgant hael, gwystyl the son of rhun the son of nwython, and llwyddeu, the son of nwython, and gwydre the son of llwyddeu, (gwenabwy the daughter of [kaw] was his mother, hueil his uncle stabbed him, and hatred was between hueil and arthur because of the wound). drem the son of dremidyd, (when the gnat arose in the morning with the sun, he could see it from gelli wic in cornwall, as far off as pen blathaon in north britain). and eidyol the son of ner, and glwyddyn saer, (who constructed ehangwen, arthur's hall). kynyr keinvarvawc, (when he was told he had a son born, {74c} he said to his wife, 'damsel, if thy son be mine, his heart will be always cold, and there will be no warmth in his hands; and he will have another peculiarity, if he is my son he will always be stubborn; and he will have another peculiarity, when he carries a burden, whether it be large or small, no one will be able to see it, either before him or at his back; and he will have another peculiarity, no one will be able to resist water and fire so well as he will; and he will have another peculiarity, there will never be a servant or an officer equal to him'). henwas, and henwyneb, (an old companion to arthur). gwallgoyc, (another; when he came to a town, though there were three hundred houses in it, if he wanted any thing, he would not let sleep come to the eyes of any one whilst he remained there). berwyn the son of gerenhir, and paris king of france, {75a} and osla gyllellvawr, (who bore a short broad dagger. when arthur and his hosts came before a torrent, they would seek for a narrow place where they might pass the water, and would lay the sheathed dagger across the torrent, and it would form a bridge sufficient for the armies of the three islands of britain, and of the three islands adjacent, with their spoil). gwyddawg the son of menestyr, (who slew kai, and whom arthur slew together with his brothers, to revenge kai). garanwyn the son of kai, and amren the son of bedwyr, and ely amyr, and rheu rhwyd dyrys, and rhun rhudwern, and eli, and trachmyr, (arthur's chief huntsmen). and llwyddeu the son of kelcoed, and hunabwy the son of gwryon, and gwynn godyvron, and gweir datharwenniddawg, and gweir the son of cadell the son of talaryant, {75b} and gweir gwrhyd ennwir, and gweir paladyr hir, (the uncles of arthur, the brothers of his mother). the sons of llwch llawwynnyawg, (from beyond the raging sea). llenlleawg wyddel, and ardderchawg prydain. cas the son of saidi, gwrvan gwallt avwyn, and gwyllennhin the king of france, and gwittart the son of oedd king of ireland, garselit wyddel, panawr pen bagad, and ffleudor the son of nav, gwynnhyvar mayor of cornwall and devon, (the ninth man that rallied the battle of camlan). keli and kueli, and gilla coes hydd, (he would clear three hundred acres at one bound. the chief leaper of ireland was he). sol, and gwadyn ossol and gwadyn odyeith. (sol could stand all day upon one foot. gwadyn ossol, if he stood upon the top of the highest mountain in the world, it would become a level plain under his feet. gwadyn odyeith, the soles of his feet emitted sparks of fire when they struck upon things hard, like the heated mass when drawn out of the forge. he cleared the way for arthur when he came to any stoppage.) hirerwm and hiratrwm. (the day they went on a visit three cantrevs provided for their entertainment, and they feasted until noon and drank until night, when they went to sleep. and then they devoured the heads of the vermin through hunger, as if they had never eaten anything. when they made a visit, they left neither the fat nor the lean, neither the hot nor the cold, the sour nor the sweet, the fresh nor the salt, the boiled nor the raw.) huarwar the son of aflawn, (who asked arthur such a boon as would satisfy him. it was the third great plague of cornwall when he received it. none could get a smile from him but when he was satisfied). gware gwallt euryn. the two cubs of gast rhymi, gwyddrud and gwyddneu astrus. sugyn the son of sugnedydd, (who would suck up the sea on which were three hundred ships, so as to leave nothing but a dry strand. he was broad-chested). {76a} rhacymwri, the attendant of arthur; (whatever barn he was shown, were there the produce of thirty ploughs within it, he would strike it with an iron flail until the rafters, the beams, and the boards, were no better than the small oats in the mow upon the floor of the barn). dygyflwng, and anoeth veidawg. and hir eiddyl, and hir amreu, (they were two attendants of arthur). and gwevyl the son of gwestad, (on the day that he was sad, he would let one of his lips drop below his waist, while he turned up the other like a cap upon his head). uchtryd varyf draws, (who spread his red untrimmed beard over the eight-and-forty rafters which were in arthur's hall). elidyr gyvarwydd, yskyrdav, and yscudydd, (two attendants of gwenhwyvar were they. their feet were swift as their thoughts when bearing a message). brys the son of bryssethach, (from the hill of the black fernbrake in north britain). and grudlwyn gorr. bwlch, and kyfwlch, and sefwlch, the sons of cleddyf kyfwlch, the grandsons of cleddyf difwlch. (their three shields were three gleaming glitterers; their three spears were three pointed piercers; their three swords were three griding gashers; glas, glessic, and gleisad. their three dogs, call, cuall, and cavall. their three horses, hwyrdyddwd, and drwgdyddwd, and llwyrdyddwg. {77a} their three wives, och, and garym, and diaspad. their three grand-children, lluched, and neved, and eissiwed. their three daughters, drwg, and gwaeth, and gwaethav oll. their three handmaids, eheubryd the daughter of kyfwlch, gorascwrn the daughter of nerth, ewaedan the daughter of kynvelyn keudawd pwyll the half man.) dwnn diessic unbenn, eiladyr the son of pen llarcau, kynedyr wyllt the son of hettwn talaryant, sawyl, ben uchel, gwalchmai the son of gwyar, gwalhaved the son of gwyar, gwrhyr gwastawd ieithoedd, (to whom all tongues were known,) and kethcrwn {77b} the priest. clust the son of clustveinad, (though he were buried seven cubits beneath the earth, he would hear the ant, fifty miles off, rise from her nest in the morning). medyr the son of methredydd, (from gelli wic he could, in a twinkling, shoot the wren through the two legs upon esgeir oervel in ireland). gwiawn llygad cath, (who would cut a haw from the eye of the gnat without hurting him). ol the son of olwydd; (seven years before he was born his father's swine were carried off, and when he grew up a man, he tracked the swine, and brought them back in seven herds). bedwini the bishop, (who blessed arthur's meat and drink). for the sake of the golden-chained daughters of this island. for the sake of gwenhwyvar, its chief lady, and gwennhwyach her sister, and rathtyeu the only daughter of clemenhill, and rhelemon the daughter of kai, and tannwen the daughter of gweir datharweniddawg. {78a} gwenn alarch, the daughter of kynwyl canbwch. {78b} eurneid the daughter of clydno eiddin. eneuawc the daughter of bedwyr. enrydreg the daughter of tudvathar. gwennwledyr the daughter of gwaledyr kyrvach. erddudnid the daughter of tryffin. eurolwen the daughter of gwdolwyn gorr. teleri the daughter of peul. indeg the daughter of garwy {78c} hir. morvudd the daughter of urien rheged. gwenllian deg the majestic maiden. creiddylad the daughter of llud llaw ereint. (she was the most splendid maiden in the three islands of the mighty, and in the three islands adjacent, and for her gwythyr the son of greidawl and gwynn the son of nudd fight every first of may until the day of doom.) ellylw the daughter of neol kynncrog. (she lived three ages.) essyllt vinwen, and essyllt vingul." and all these did kilhwch son of kilydd adjure to obtain his boon. then said arthur, "oh! chieftain, i have never heard of the maiden of whom thou speakest, nor of her kindred, but i will gladly send messengers in search of her. give me time to seek her." and the youth said, "i will willingly grant from this night to that at the end of the year to do so." then arthur sent messengers to every land within his dominions, to seek for the maiden, and at the end of the year arthur's messengers returned without having gained any knowledge or intelligence concerning olwen, more than on the first day. then said kilhwch, "every one has received his boon, and i yet lack mine. i will depart and bear away thy honour with me." then said kai, "rash chieftain! dost thou reproach arthur? go with us, and we will not part until thou dost either confess that the maiden exists not in the world, or until we obtain her." thereupon kai rose up. kai had this peculiarity, that his breath lasted nine nights and nine days under water, and he could exist nine nights and nine days without sleep. a wound from kai's sword no physician could heal. very subtle was kai. when it pleased him he could render himself as tall as the highest tree in the forest. and he had another peculiarity,--so great was the heat of his nature, that when it rained hardest, whatever he carried remained dry for a handbreadth above and a handbreadth below his hand; and when his companions were coldest, it was to them as fuel with which to light their fire. and arthur called bedwyr, who never shrank from any enterprise upon which kai was bound. none were equal to him in swiftness throughout this island except arthur and drych ail kibddar. and although he was one-handed, three warriors could not shed blood faster than he on the field of battle. another property he had, his lance would produce a wound equal to those of nine opposing lances. and arthur called to kynddelig the guide, "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. he called gwrhyr gwalstawt ieithoedd, because he knew all tongues. he called gwalchmai the son of gwyar, because he never returned home without achieving the adventure of which he went in quest. he was the best of footmen and the best of knights. he was nephew to arthur, the son of his sister, and his cousin. and arthur called menw the son of teirgwaedd, in order that if they went into a savage country, he might cast a charm and an illusion over them, so that none might see them, whilst they could see every one. they journeyed until they came to a vast open plain, wherein they saw a great castle, which was the fairest of the castles of the world. and they journeyed that day until the evening, and when they thought they were nigh to the castle, they were no nearer to it than they had been in the morning. and the second and the third day they journeyed, and even then scarcely could they reach so far. and when they came before the castle, they beheld a vast flock of sheep, which was boundless, and without an end. and upon the top of a mound there was a herdsman, keeping the sheep. and a rug made of skins was upon him; and by his side was a shaggy mastiff, larger than a steed nine winters old. never had he lost even a lamb from his flock, much less a large sheep. he let no occasion ever 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. then said kai, "gwrhyr gwalstawt ieithoedd, go thou and salute yonder man." "kai," said he, "i engaged not to go further than thou thyself." "let us go then together," answered kai. {81a} said menw the son of teirgwaedd, "fear not to go thither, for i will cast a spell upon the dog, so that he shall injure no one." and they went up to the mound whereon the herdsman was, and they said to him, "how dost thou fare? o herdsman!" "no less fair be it to you than to me." "truly, art thou the chief?" "there is no hurt to injure me but my own." {81b} "whose are the sheep that thou dost keep, and to whom does yonder castle belong?" "stupid are ye, truly! through the whole world is it known that this is the castle of yspaddaden penkawr." "and who art thou?" "i am called custennin the son of dyfnedig, and my brother yspaddaden penkawr oppressed me because of my possession. and ye also, who are ye?" "we are an embassy from arthur, come to seek olwen, the daughter of yspaddaden penkawr." "oh men! the mercy of heaven be upon you, do not that for all the world. none who ever came hither on this quest has returned alive." and the herdsman rose up. and as he arose, kilhwch gave unto him a ring of gold. and he sought to put on the ring, but it was too small for him, so he placed it in the finger of his glove. and he went home, and gave the glove to his spouse to keep. and she took the ring from the glove when it was given her, and she said, "whence came this ring, for thou art not wont to have good fortune?" "i went," said he, "to the sea to seek for fish, and lo, i saw a corpse borne by the waves. and a fairer corpse than it did i never behold. and from its finger did i take this ring." "oh man! does the sea permit its dead to wear jewels? show me then this body." "oh wife, him to whom this ring belonged thou shalt see herein the evening." {82} "and who is he?" asked the woman. "kilhwch the son of kilydd, the son of prince kelyddon, by goleuddydd the daughter of prince anlawdd, his mother, who is come to seek olwen as his wife." and 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 depart alive who had come on that quest. and they went forward to the gate of custennin the herdsman's dwelling. and when she heard their footsteps approaching, she ran out with joy to meet them. and kai snatched a billet out of the pile. and when she met them she sought to throw her arms about their necks. and kai placed the log between her two hands, and she squeezed it so that it became a twisted coil. "oh woman," said kai, "if thou hadst squeezed me thus, none could ever again have set their affections on me. evil love were this." they entered into the house, and were served; and soon after they all went forth to amuse themselves. then the woman opened a stone chest that was before the chimney corner, and out of it arose a youth with yellow curling hair. said gwrhyr, "it is a pity to hide this youth. i know that it is not his own crime that is thus visited upon him." "this is but a remnant," 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." then said kai, "let him come and be a companion with me, and he shall not be slain unless i also am slain with him." and they ate. and the woman asked them, "upon what errand come you here?" "we come to seek olwen for this youth." then said the woman, "in the name of heaven, since no one from the castle hath yet seen you, return again whence you came." "heaven is our witness, that we will not return until we have seen the maiden." said kai, "does she ever come hither, 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 to?" "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 to her." "we pledge it," said they. so a message was sent, and she came. the maiden was clothed in a robe of flame-coloured 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 flower 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 wood anemone amidst the spray of the meadow fountain. the eye of the trained hawk, the glance of the threemewed 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. whoso beheld her was filled with her love. four white trefoils sprung up wherever she trod. and therefore was she called olwen. she entered the house, and sat beside kilhwch upon the foremost bench; and as soon as he saw her he knew her. and kilhwch said unto her, "ah! maiden, thou art she whom i have loved; come away with me lest they speak evil of thee and of me. many a day have i loved thee." "i cannot do this, for i have pledged my faith to my father not to go without his counsel, for his life will last only until the time of my espousals. whatever is, must be. but i will give thee advice if thou wilt take it. go, ask me of my father, and that which 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." "i promise all this, if occasion offer," said he. {84a} she returned to her chamber, and they all rose up and followed her to 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. "the greeting of heaven and of man be unto thee, yspaddaden penkawr," said they. "and you, wherefore come you?" "we come to ask thy daughter olwen, for kilhwch the son of kilydd, the son of prince kelyddon." "where are my pages and my servants? {84b} raise up the forks beneath my two eyebrows which have fallen over my eyes, that i may see the fashion of my son-in-law." and they did so. "come hither to-morrow, and you shall have an answer." they rose to go forth, and yspaddaden penkawr seized one of the three poisoned darts that lay beside him, and threw it after them. and bedwyr caught it, and flung it, and pierced yspaddaden penkawr grievously with it through the knee. {85a} then he said, "a cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly. i shall ever walk the worse for his rudeness, and shall ever be without a cure. this poisoned iron pains me like the bite of a gad-fly. cursed be the smith who forged it, and the anvil whereon it was wrought! so sharp is it!" that night also they took up their abode in the house of custennin the herdsman. the next day with the dawn, they arrayed themselves in haste, and proceeded to the castle, and entered the hall, and 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 kinswomen likewise. and unless thou wilt do so, thou shall meet with thy death on her account." then he said, "her four great-grandmothers, and her four great-grandsires are yet alive, it is needful that i take counsel of them." "be it so," answered they, "we will go to meat." as they rose up; 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 wounded 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 formed it! so sharp is it! henceforth, whenever i go up a hill, i shall have a scant in my breath, and a pain in my chest, and i shall often loathe my food." and they went to meat. and the third day they returned 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 eyebrows which have fallen over my eyeballs, that i may see the fashion of my son-in-law." then they arose, and, as they did so, yspaddaden penkawr took the third poisoned dart, and cast it at them. and kilhwch caught it, and threw it 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 it was forged. like the bite of a mad dog is the stroke of this poisoned iron." and they went to meat. and the next day they came again to the palace, and they said, "shoot not at us any more, unless thou desirest such hurt, and harm, and torture as thou now hast, and even more. give me thy daughter; and if thou wilt not give her, thou shall receive thy death because of her." "where is he that seeks my daughter? come hither where i may see thee." and they placed him a chair face to face with him. said yspaddaden penkawr, "is it thou that seekest my daughter?" "it is i," answered kilhwch. "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 that willingly," said kilhwch; "name what thou wilt." "i will do so," said he. "seest thou yonder vast hill?" "i see it." "i require that it be rooted up, and that the grubbings be burned for manure on the face of the land, and that it be ploughed and sown in one day, and in one day that the grain ripen. and of that wheat i intend to make food and liquor fit for the wedding of thee and my daughter. and all this i require to be done in one day." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though this be easy for thee, there is yet that which will not be so. no husbandman can till or prepare this land, so wild is it, except amaethon the son of don, and he will not come with thee by his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. govannon the son of don to come to the headland to rid the iron, he will do no work of his own good will except for a lawful king, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get; the two dun oxen of gwlwlyd, {87} both yoked together, to plough the wild land yonder stoutly. he will not give them of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get; the yellow and the brindled bull yoked together do i require." "it will be easy for me to compass this." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get; the two horned oxen, one of which is beyond, and the other this side of the peaked mountain, yoked together in the same plough. and these are nynniaw and peibaw, whom god turned into oxen on account of their sins." "it will be easy for me to compass this." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. seest thou yonder red tilled ground?" "i see it." "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; and i have the measure by me still. i require 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 easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. honey that is nine times sweeter than the honey of the virgin swarm, without scum and bees, do i require to make bragget for the feast." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "the vessel of llwyr the son of llwyryon, which is of the utmost value. there is no other vessel in the world that can hold this drink. of his free will thou wilt not get it, and thou canst not compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. the basket of gwyddneu garanhir, if the whole world should come together, thrice nine men at a time, the meat that each of them desired would be found within it. i require to eat therefrom on the night that my daughter becomes thy bride. he will give it to no one of his own free will, and thou canst not compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. the horn of gwlgawd gododin to serve us with liquor that night. he will not give it of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. the harp of teirtu to play to us that night. {89} when a man desires that it should play, it does so of itself, and when he desires that it should cease, it ceases. and this he will not give of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. the cauldron of diwrnach wyddel, the steward of odgar the son of aedd, king of ireland, to boil the meat for thy marriage feast." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. it is needful for me to wash my head, and shave my beard, and i require the tusk of yskithyrwyn benbaedd to shave myself withal, neither shall i profit by its use if it be not plucked alive out of his head." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. there is no one in the world that can pluck it out of his head except odgar the son of aedd, king of ireland." "it will be easy for me to compass this." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. i will not trust any one to keep the tusk except gado of north britain. now the threescore cantrevs of north britain are under his sway, and of his own free will he will not come out of his kingdom, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it wilt not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. i must spread out my hair in order to shave it, and it will never be spread out unless i have the blood of the jet black sorceress, the daughter of the pure white sorceress, from pen nant govid, on the confines of hell." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. i will not have the blood unless i have it warm, and no vessels will keep warm the liquid that is put therein except the bottles of gwyddolwyn gorr, which preserve the heat of the liquor that is put into them in the east, until they arrive at the west. and he will not give them of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. some will desire fresh milk, and it will not be possible to have fresh milk for all, unless we have the bottles of rhinnon rhin barnawd, wherein no liquor ever turns sour. and he will not give them of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. throughout the world there is not a comb or scissors with which i can arrange my hair, on account of its rankness, except the comb and scissors that are between the two ears of twrch trwyth, the son of prince tared. he will not give them of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. it will not be possible to hunt twrch trwyth without drudwyn, the whelp of greid, the son of eri." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. throughout the world there is not a leash that can hold him, except the leash of cwrs cant ewin." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. throughout the world there is no collar that wilt hold the leash except the collar of canhastyr canllaw." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. the chain of kilydd canhastyr to fasten the collar to the leash." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. throughout the world there is not a huntsman who can hunt with this dog, except 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, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. gwynn mygdwn, the horse of gweddw that is as swift as the wave, to carry mabon the son of modron to hunt the boar trwyth. he will not give him of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. thou wilt not get mabon, for it is not known where he is, unless thou find eidoel, his kinsman in blood, the son of aer. for it would be useless to seek for him. he is his cousin." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. garselit the gwyddelian {92} is the chief huntsman of ireland; the twrch trwyth can never be hunted without him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. a leash made from the beard of dissull varvawc, for that is the only one that can hold those two cubs. and the leash will be of no avail unless it be plucked from his beard while he is alive, and twitched out with wooden tweezers. while he lives he will not suffer this to be done to him, and the leash will be of no use should he be dead, because it will be brittle." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. throughout the world there is no huntsman that can hold those two whelps, except kynedyr wyllt, the son of hettwn glafyrawc; he is nine times more wild than the wildest beast upon the mountains. him wilt thou never get, neither wilt thou ever get my daughter." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. it is not possible to hunt the boar trwyth without gwynn the son of nudd, whom god has placed over the brood of devils in annwn, lest they should destroy the present race. he will never be spared thence." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. there is not a horse in the world that can carry gwynn to hunt the twrch trwyth, except du, the horse of mor of oerveddawg." {93} "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. until gilennhin the king of france shall come, the twrch trwyth cannot be hunted. it will be unseemly for him to leave his kingdom for thy sake, and he will never come hither." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. the twrch trwyth can never be hunted without the son of alun dyved; he is well skilled in letting loose the dogs." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. the twrch trwyth cannot be hunted unless thou get aned and aethlem. they are as swift as the gale of wind, and they were never let loose upon a beast that they did not kill him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get; arthur and his companions to hunt the twrch trwyth. he is a mighty man, and he will not come for thee, neither wilt thou be able to compel him." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. the twrch trwyth cannot be hunted unless thou get bwlch, and kyfwlch, [and sefwlch,] the grandsons of cleddyf difwlch. their three shields are three gleaming glitterers. their three spears are three pointed piercers. their three swords are three griding gashers, glas, glessic, and clersag. their three dogs, call, cuall, and cavall, their three horses, hwyrdydwg, and drwgdydwg, and llwyrdydwg. their three wives, och, and geram, and diaspad. their three grandchildren, lluched, and vyned, and eissiwed. their three daughters, drwg, and gwaeth, and gwaethav oil. their three handmaids, [eheubryd, the daughter of kyfwlch; gorasgwrn, the daughter of nerth; and gwaedan, the daughter of kynvelyn.] these three men shall sound the horn, and all the others shall shout, so that all will think that the sky is falling to the earth." "it will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think that it will not be easy." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. the sword of gwrnach the giant; he will never be slain except therewith. 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." "though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. difficulties shall thou meet with, and nights without sleep, in seeking this, and if thou obtain it not, neither shalt thou obtain my daughter." "horses shall i have, and chivalry; and my lord and kinsman arthur will obtain for me all these things. and i shall gain thy daughter, and thou shalt lose thy life." "go forward. and thou shalt not be chargeable for food or raiment for my daughter while thou art seeking these things; and when thou hast compassed all these marvels, thou shalt have my daughter for thy wife." * * * * * all that day they journeyed until the evening, and then they beheld a vast castle, which was the largest in the world. and lo, a black man, huger than three of the men of this world, came out from the castle. and they spoke unto him, "whence comest them, o man?" "from the castle which you see yonder." "whose castle is that?" asked they. "stupid are ye truly, o men. 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 in that castle?" "oh! chieftain, heaven protect thee. no guest ever returned thence alive, and no one may enter therein unless he brings with him his craft." then they proceeded towards the gate. said gwrhyr gwalstawd ieithoedd, "is there a porter?" "there is. and thou, if thy tongue be not mute in thy head, wherefore dost thou call?" "open the gate." "i will not open it." "wherefore wilt thou not?" "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," then said kai, "my craft bring i with me." "what is thy craft?" "the best burnisher of swords am i in the world." "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. there is a party at the door of the gate who desire to come in." "didst thou enquire of them if they possessed any art?" "i did enquire," said he, "and one told me that he was well skilled in the burnishing of swords." "we have need of him then. for some time have i sought for some one to polish my sword, and could find no one. let this man enter, since he brings with him his craft." the porter thereupon returned, and opened the gate. and kai 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, "oh 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 kai. then was the sword of gwrnach brought to him. and kai 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 wouldest if it were thine own." then kai polished one half of the blade and put it in his hand. "will this please thee?" asked he. "i would rather than all that is in my dominions that the whole of it were like unto this. it is a marvel to me that such a man as thou should be without a companion." "oh! noble sir, i have a companion, albeit he is not skilled in this art." "who may he be?" "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." then the gate was opened, and bedwyr entered. and kai said, "bedwyr is very skilful, although he knows not this art." and there was much discourse among those who were without, because that kai and bedwyr had gone in. and a young man who was with them, the only son of custennin the herdsman, got in also. and he caused all his companions to keep close to him as he passed the three wards, and until he came into the midst of the castle. {98a} and his companions said unto the son of custennin, "thou hast done this! thou art the best of all men." and thenceforth he was called goreu, the son of custennin. then they dispersed to their lodgings, that they might slay those who lodged therein, unknown to the giant. the sword was now polished, and kai gave it unto the hand of gwrnach the giant, to see if he were pleased with his work. and the giant said, "the work is good, i am content therewith." said kai, "it is thy scabbard that hath rusted thy sword; give it to me that i may take out the wooden sides of it, and put in new ones." and he took the scabbard from him, and the sword in the other hand. and he came and stood over against the giant, as if he would have put the sword into the scabbard; and with it he struck at the head of the giant, and cut off his head at one blow. then they despoiled 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. now when they had told arthur how they had sped, arthur said, "which of these marvels will it be best for us to seek first?" "it will be best," said they, "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 arthur rose up, and the warriors of the islands of britain with him, to seek for eidoel; and they proceeded until they came before the castle of glivi, {98b} where eidoel was imprisoned. glivi {99a} stood on the summit of his castle, and he said, "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." said arthur, "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 shall thou have my support and my aid." his followers said unto arthur, "lord, go thou home, thou canst not proceed with thy host in quest of such small adventures as these." then said arthur, "it were well for thee, gwrhyr gwalstawd iethoedd, to go upon this quest, for thou knowest all languages, and art familiar with {99b} those of the birds and the beasts. thou eidoel oughtest likewise to go with my men in search of thy cousin. and as for you, kai and bedwyr, i have hope of whatever adventure ye are in quest of, that ye will achieve it. achieve ye this adventure for me." they went forward until they came to the ousel of cilgwri. and gwrhyr adjured her for the sake of heaven, saying, "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 the vengeance of heaven be upon me, if during all that time i have ever heard of the man for whom you enquire. nevertheless i will do that which is right, and that which it is fitting that i should do for an embassy 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, behold we are come to thee, an embassy from 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?" the stag said, "when first i came hither, there was a plain all around me, without any trees save one oak sapling, {100} 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 enquire. nevertheless, being 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, here is an embassy from arthur; knowest thou aught of mabon the son of modron, who was taken after three nights from his mother?" "if i knew i would tell you. when first i came hither, the wide 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 enquire. nevertheless, i will be the guide of arthur's embassy until you come to the place where is the oldest animal in this world, and the one that has travelled most, the eagle of gwern abwy." gwrhyr 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." the eagle said, "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 pecked at the stars every evening; and now it is not so much as a span high. from that day to this i have been here, and i have never heard of the man for whom you enquire, 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 deep, and i was scarcely able to escape from him. after that i went with my whole kindred to attack him, and to try to destroy him, but he sent messengers, and made peace with me; and came and besought me to take fifty fish spears out of his back. unless he know something of him whom you seek, i cannot tell who may. however, i will guide you to the place where he is." so they went thither; and the eagle said, "salmon of llyn llyw, i have come to thee with an embassy from arthur, to ask thee if thou knowest aught concerning mabon the son of modron, who was taken away at three nights old from his mother." "as much as i know i will tell thee. with every tide i go along the river upwards, until i come near to the walls of gloucester, and there have i found such wrong as i never found elsewhere; and to the end that ye may give credence thereto, let one of you go thither upon each of my two shoulders." so kai and gwrhyr gwalstawd ieithoedd went upon the two shoulders of the salmon, and they proceeded until they came unto the wall of the prison, and they heard a great wailing and lamenting from the dungeon. {102} said gwrhyr, "who is it that laments in this house of stone?" "alas, there is reason enough for whoever is here to lament. it is mabon the son of modron who is here imprisoned, and no imprisonment was ever so grievous as mine, neither that of lludd llaw ereint, nor that of greid the son of eri." "hast thou hope of being released for gold, or for silver, or for any gifts of wealth, or through battle and fighting?" "by fighting will whatever i may gain be obtained." {picture: p102.jpg} then they went thence, and returned to arthur, and they told him where mabon the son of modron was imprisoned. and arthur summoned the warriors of the island, and they journeyed as far as gloucester, to the place where mabon was in prison. kai and bedwyr went upon the shoulders of the fish, whilst the warriors of arthur attacked the castle. and kai broke through the wall into the dungeon, and brought away the prisoner upon his back, whilst the fight was going on between the warriors. and arthur returned home, and mabon with him at liberty. * * * * * said arthur, "which of the marvels will it be best for us now to seek first?" "it will be best to seek for the two cubs of gast rhymhi." "is it known," said arthur, "where she is?" "she is in aber deu gleddyf," said one. then arthur went to the house of tringad, in aber cleddyf, and he enquired of him whether he had heard of her there. "in what form may she be?" "she is in the form of a she wolf," said he, "and with her there are two cubs." "she has often slain my herds, and she is there below in a cave in aber cleddyf." so 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 god did change them again for arthur into their own form. and the host of arthur dispersed themselves into parties of one and two. * * * * * on a certain day, as gwythyr the son of greidawl was walking over a mountain, he heard a wailing and a grievous cry. and when he heard it, {103} he sprung forward, and went towards it. and when he came there, he drew his sword, and smote off an ant-hill close to the earth, whereby it escaped being burned in the fire. and the ants said to him, "receive from 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 kilhwch, and they brought the full measure, without lacking any, except one flax-seed, and that the lame pismire brought in before night. * * * * * as kai and bedwyr sat on a beacon carn on the summit of plinlimmon, in the highest wind that ever was in the world, they looked around them, and saw a great smoke towards the south, afar off, which did not bend with the wind. then said kai, "by the hand of my friend, behold, yonder is the fire of a robber!" then they hastened towards the smoke, and they came so near to it, that they could see dillus varvawc scorching a wild boar. "behold, yonder is the greatest robber that ever fled from arthur," said bedwyr unto kai. "dost thou know him?" "i do know him," answered kai, "he is dillus varvawc, and no leash in the world will be able to hold drudwyn, the cub of greid the son of eri, save a leash made from the beard of him thou seest yonder. and that even will be useless, unless his beard be plucked alive with wooden tweezers; for if dead, it will be brittle." "what thinkest thou that we should do concerning this?" said bedwyr. "let us suffer him," said kai, "to eat as much as he will of the meat, and after that he will fall asleep." and during that time they employed themselves in making the wooden tweezers. and when kai knew certainly that he was asleep, he made a pit under his feet, the largest in the world, and 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 both went to gelli wic, in cornwall, and took the leash made of dillus varvawc's beard with them, and they gave it unto arthur's hand. then arthur composed this englyn, kai made a leash of dillus son of eurei's beard. were he alive, thy death he'd be. and thereupon kai was wroth, so that the warriors of the island could scarcely make peace between kai and arthur. and thenceforth, neither in arthur's troubles, nor for the slaying of his men, would kai come forward to his aid for ever after. * * * * * said arthur, "which of the marvels is it best for us now to seek?" "it is best for us to seek drudwyn, the cub of greid, the son of eri." a little while before this, creiddylad, the daughter of lludd llaw ereint, and gwythyr the son of greidawl, were betrothed. and before she had become his bride, gwyn ap nudd came, and carried her away by force; and gwythyr the son of greidawl gathered his host together, and went to fight with gwyn ap nudd. but gwyn overcame him, and captured greid the son of eri, and glinneu the son of taran and gwrgwst ledlwm, and dynvarth {105} his son. and he captured penn the son of nethawg, and nwython, and kyledyr wyllt his son. and they slew nwython, and took out his heart, and constrained kyledyr to eat the heart of his father. and therefrom kyledyr became mad. when arthur heard of this, he went to the north, and summoned gwyn ap nudd before him, and set free the nobles whom he had put in prison, and made peace between gwyn ap nudd and gwythyr the son of greidawl. and this was the peace that was made: that the maiden should remain in her father's house, without advantage to either of them, and that gwyn ap nudd and gwythyr the son of greidawl should fight for her every first of may, from thenceforth until the day of doom, and that whichever of them should then be conqueror should have the maiden. and when arthur had thus reconciled these chieftains, he obtained mygdwn, gweddw's horse, and the leash of cwrs cant ewin. and after that arthur went into armorica, and with him mabon the son of mellt, and gware gwallt euryn, to seek the two dogs of glythmyr ledewic. and when he had got them, he went to the west of ireland, in search of gwrgi severi; and odgar the son of aedd, king of ireland, went with him. and thence went arthur into the north, and captured kyledyr wyllt; and he went after yskithyrwyn penbaedd. and mabon the son of mellt came with the two dogs of glythmyr ledewic in his hand, and drudwyn, the cub of greid the son of eri. and arthur went himself to the chase, leading his own dog cavall. and kaw, of north britain, mounted arthur's mare llamrei, and was first in the attack. then kaw, of north britain, wielded a mighty axe, and absolutely daring he came valiantly up to the boar, and clave his head in twain. and kaw took away the tusk. now the boar was not slain by the dogs that yspaddaden had mentioned, but by cavall, arthur's own dog. and after yskithyrwyn penbaedd was killed, arthur and his host departed to gelli wic in cornwall. and thence he sent menw the son of teirgwaedd to see if the precious things were between the two ears of twrch trwyth, since it were useless to encounter him if they were not there. albeit it was certain where he was, for he had laid waste the third part of ireland. and menw went to seek for him, and he met with him in ireland, in esgeir oervel. and menw took the form of a bird; and he descended upon the top of his lair, and strove to snatch away one of the precious things from him, but he carried away nothing but one of his bristles. and the boar rose up angrily and shook himself so that some of his venom fell upon menw, and he was never well from that day forward. after this arthur sent an embassy to odgar, the son of aedd, king of ireland, to ask for the cauldron of diwrnach wyddel, his purveyor. and odgar commanded him to give it. but diwrnach said, "heaven is my witness, if it would avail him anything even to look at it, he should not do so." and the embassy of arthur returned from ireland with this denial. and arthur set forward with a small retinue, and entered into prydwen, his ship, and went over to ireland. and they proceeded into the house of diwrnach wyddel. and the hosts of odgar saw their strength. when they had eaten and drank as much as they desired, arthur demanded to have the cauldron. and he answered, "if i would have given it to any one, i would have given it at the word of odgar, king of ireland." when he had given them this denial, bedwyr arose and seized hold of the cauldron, and placed it upon the back of hygwyd, arthur's servant, who was brother, by the mother's side, to arthur's servant, cachamwri. his office was always to carry arthur's cauldron, and to place fire under it. and llenlleawg wyddel seized caledvwlch, and brandished it. and they slew diwrnach wyddel and his company. then came the irish, {108a} and fought with them. and when he had put them to flight, arthur with his men went forward to the ship, carrying away the cauldron full of irish money. {108b} and he disembarked at the house of llwydden {108c} the son of kelcoed, at forth kerddin in dyved. and there is the measure of the cauldron. then arthur summoned unto him all the warriors that were in the three islands of britain, and in the three islands adjacent, and all that were in france and in armorica, in normandy and in the summer country, and all that were chosen footmen and valiant horsemen. and with all these, he went into ireland. and in ireland there was great fear and terror concerning him. and when arthur had landed in the country, there came unto him the saints of ireland and besought his protection. and he granted his protection unto them, and they gave him their blessing. then the men of ireland came unto arthur, and brought him provisions. and arthur went as far as esgeir oervel in ireland, to the place where the boar trwyth was with his seven young pigs. and the dogs were let loose upon him from all sides. that day until evening, the irish fought with him, nevertheless he laid waste the fifth part of ireland. and on the day following the household of arthur fought with him, and they were worsted by him, and got no advantage. and the third day arthur himself encountered him, and he fought with him nine nights and nine days without so much as killing even one little pig. {109} the warriors enquired of arthur, what was the origin of that swine; and he told them that he was once a king, and that god had transformed him into a swine for his sins. then arthur sent gwrhyr gwalstawt ieithoedd, to endeavour to speak with him. and gwrhyr assumed the form of a bird, and alighted upon the top of the lair, where he was with the seven young pigs. and gwrhyr gwalstawt ieithoedd asked him, "by him who turned you into this form, if you can speak, let some one of you, i beseech you, come and talk with arthur." grugyn gwrych ereint made answer to him. (now his bristles were like silver wire, and whether he went through the wood or through the plain, he was to be traced by the glittering of his bristles.) and this was the answer that grugyn made, "by him who turned us into this form we will not do so, and we will not speak with arthur. that we have been transformed thus is enough for us to suffer, without your coming here to fight with us." "i will tell you. arthur comes but to fight for the comb, and the razor, and the scissors, which are between the two ears of twrch trwyth." said grugyn, "except he first take his life, he will never have those precious things. and to-morrow morning we will rise up hence, and we will go into arthur's country, and there will we do all the mischief that we can." so they set forth through the sea towards wales. and arthur and his hosts, and his horses and his dogs, entered prydwen, that they might encounter them without delay. twrch trwyth landed in porth cleis in dyved, and the {110} came to mynyw. the next day it was told to arthur, that they had gone by, and he overtook them, as they were killing the cattle of kynnwas kwrr y vagyl, having slain all that were at aber gleddyf, of man and beast, before the coming of arthur. now when arthur approached, twrch trwyth went on as far as preseleu, and arthur and his hosts followed him thither, and arthur sent men to hunt him; eli and trachmyr, leading drutwyn the whelp of greid, the son of eri, and gwarthegyd the son of kaw, in another quarter, with the two dogs of glythmyr ledewig, and bedwyr leading cavall, arthur's own dog. and all the warriors ranged themselves around the nyver. and there came there the three sons of cleddyf divwlch, men who had gained much fame at the slaying of yskithyrwyn penbaedd; and they went on from glyn nyver, and came to cwm kerwyn. and there twrch trwyth made a stand, and slew four of arthur's champions, gwarthegyd the son of kaw, and tarawc of allt clwyd, and rheidwn the son of eli atver, and iscovan hael. and after he had slain these men, he made a second stand in the same place. and there he slew gwydre the son of arthur, and garselit wyddel, and glew the son of ysgawd, and iscawn the son of panon; and there he himself was wounded. and the next morning before it was day, some of the men came up with him. and he slew huandaw, and gogigwr, and penpingon, three attendants upon glewlwyd gavaelvawr, so that heaven knows he had not an attendant remaining, excepting only llaesgevyn, a man from whom no one ever derived any good. and together with these, he slew many of the men of that country, and gwlydyn saer, arthur's chief architect. then arthur overtook him at pelumyawc, and there he slew madawc the son of teithyon, and gwyn the son of tringad, the son of neved, and eiryawn penllorau. thence he went to aberteivi, {111a} where he made another stand, and where he slew kyflas {111b} the son of kynan, and gwilenhin king of france. then he went as far as glyn ystu, and there the men and the dogs lost him. then arthur summoned unto him gwyn ab nudd, and he asked him if he knew aught of twrch trwyth. and he said that he did not. and all the huntsmen went to hunt the swine as far as dyffryn llychwr. and grugyn gwallt ereint, and llwydawg govynnyad closed with them and killed all the huntsmen, so that there escaped but one man only. and arthur and his hosts came to the place where grugyn and llwydawg were. and there he let loose the whole of the dogs upon them, and with the shout and barking that was set up, twrch trwyth came to their assistance. and from the time that they came across the irish sea, arthur had never got sight of him until then. {111c} so he set men and dogs upon him, and thereupon he started off and went to mynydd amanw. and there one of his young pigs was killed. {112a} then they set upon him life for life, and twrch llawin was slain, and then there was slain another of the swine, gwys was his name. after that he went on to dyffryn amanw, and there banw and bennwig were killed. {112b} of all his pigs there went with him alive from that place none save grugyn gwallt ereint, and llwydawg govynnyad. thence he went on to llwch ewin, and arthur overtook him there, and he made a stand. and there he slew echel forddwytwll, and garwyli the son of gwyddawg gwyr, and many men and dogs likewise. and thence they went to llwch tawy. grugyn gwrych ereint parted from them there, and went to din tywi. and thence he proceeded to ceredigiawn, and eli and trachmyr with him, and a multitude likewise. then he came to garth gregyn, and there llwydawg govynnyad fought in the midst of them, and slew rhudvyw rhys and many others with him. then llwydawg went thence to ystrad yw, and there the men of armorica met him, and there he slew hirpeissawg, the king of armorica, and llygatrudd emys, and gwrbothu, arthur's uncles, his mother's brothers, and there was he himself slain. twrch trwyth went from there to between tawy and euyas, and arthur summoned all cornwall and devon unto him, to the estuary of the severn, and he said to the warriors of this island, "twrch trwyth has slain many of my men, but, by the valour of warriors, while i live he shall not go into cornwall. and i will not follow him any longer, but i will oppose him life to life. do ye as ye will." and he resolved that he would send a body of knights, with the dogs of the island, as far as euyas, who should return thence to the severn, and that tried warriors should traverse the island, and force him into the severn. and mabon the son of modron came up with him at the severn, upon gwynn mygddon, the horse of gweddw, and goreu the son of custennin, and menw the son of teirgwaedd; this was betwixt llyn lliwan and aber gwy. and arthur fell upon him together with the champions of britain. and osla kyllellvawr drew near, and manawyddan the son of llyr, and kacmwri the servant of arthur, and gwyngelli, and they seized hold of him, catching him first by his feet, and plunged him in the severn, so that it overwhelmed him. on the one side, mabon the son of modron spurred his steed and snatched his razor from him, and kyledyr wyllt came up with him on the other side, upon another steed, in the severn, and took from him the scissors. but before they could obtain the comb, he had regained the ground with his feet, and from the moment that he reached the shore, neither dog, nor man, nor horse could overtake him until he came to cornwall. if they had had trouble in getting the jewels from him, much more had they in seeking to save the two men from being drowned. kacmwri, as they drew him forth, was dragged by two millstones into the deep. and as osla kyllellvawr was running after the boar his knife had dropped out of the sheath, and he had lost it, and after that the sheath became full of water, and its weight drew him down into the deep, as they were drawing him forth. then arthur and his hosts proceeded until they overtook the boar in cornwall, and the trouble which they had met with before was mere play to what they encountered in seeking the comb. but from one difficulty to another, the comb was at length obtained. and then he was hunted from cornwall, and driven straight forward into the deep sea. and thenceforth it was never known whither he went; and aned and aethlem with him. then went arthur to gelliwic, in cornwall, to anoint himself, and to rest from his fatigues. * * * * * said arthur, "is there any one of the marvels yet unobtained?" said one of his men, "there is--the blood of the witch orddu, the daughter of the witch orwen, of penn nant govid, on the confines of hell." arthur set forth towards the north, and came to the place where was the witch's cave. and gwyn ab nudd, and gwythyr the son of greidawl, counselled him to send kacmwri, and hygwyd his brother to fight with the witch. and as they entered the cave, the witch seized upon them, and she caught hygwyd by the hair of his head, and threw him on the floor beneath her. and kacmwri caught her by the hair of her head, and dragged her to the earth from off hygwyd, but she turned again upon them both, {114} and drove them both out with kicks and with cuffs. and arthur was wroth at seeing his two attendants almost slain, and he sought to enter the cave; but gwyn and gwythyr said unto him, "it would not be fitting or seemly for us to see thee squabbling with a hag. let hiramren, and hireidil go to the cave." so they went. but if great was the trouble of the two first that went, much greater was that of these two. and heaven knows that not one of the four could move from the spot, until they placed them all upon llamrei, arthur's mare. and then arthur rushed to the door of the cave, and at the door, he struck at the witch, with carnwennan his dagger, and clove her in twain, so that she fell in two parts. and kaw, of north britain, took the blood of the witch and kept it. then kilhwch set forward, and goreu, the son of custennin, with him, and as many as wished ill to yspaddaden penkawr. and they took the marvels with them to his court. and kaw of north britain came and shaved his beard, skin and flesh, clean off to the very bone from ear to ear. "art thou shaved, man?" said kilhwch. "i am shaved," answered he. "is thy daughter mine now?" "she is thine," said he, "but therefore needest thou not thank me, but arthur who hath accomplished this for thee. by my free will thou shouldest never have had her, for with her i lose my life." then goreu the son of custennin, seized him by the hair of his head, and dragged him after him to the keep, and cut off his head, and placed it on a stake on the citadel. then they took possession of his castle, and of his treasures. {picture: p115.jpg} and that night olwen became kilhwch's bride, and she continued to be his wife as long as she lived. and the hosts of arthur dispersed themselves, each man to his own country. and thus did kilhwch obtain olwen the daughter of yspaddaden penkawr. the dream of maxen wledig. {picture: p116.jpg} maxen wledig was emperor of rome, and he was a comelier man, and a better and a wiser than any emperor that had been before him. {116} and one day he held a council of kings, and he said to his friends, "i desire to go to-morrow to hunt." and the next day in the morning he set forth with his retinue, and came to the valley of the river that flowed towards rome. and he hunted through the valley until mid-day. and with him also were two and thirty crowned kings, that were his vassals; not for the delight of hunting went the emperor with them, but to put himself on equal terms with those kings. {117} and the sun was high in the sky over their heads, and the heat was great. and sleep came upon maxen wledig. and his attendants stood and set up their shields around him upon the shafts of their spears to protect him from the sun, and they placed a gold enamelled shield under his head, and so maxen slept. and he saw a dream. and this is the dream that he saw. 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, on the other side of the mountain. and he saw large and mighty rivers descending from the mountain to the sea, and towards the mouths of the rivers he proceeded. and as he journeyed thus, he came to the mouth of the largest river ever seen. and he beheld a great city at the entrance of the river, and a vast castle in the city, and he saw many high towers of various colours in the castle. and he saw a fleet at the mouth of the river, the largest ever seen. and he saw one ship among the fleet; larger was it by far, 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. he saw a bridge of the bone of the whale from the ship to the land, 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 was it borne. then it seemed that he came to the fairest island in the whole world, and he traversed the island from sea to sea, even to the farthest shore of the island. valleys he saw, and steeps, and rocks of wondrous height, and rugged precipices. {118a} never yet saw he the like. and thence he beheld an island in the sea, facing this rugged {118b} land. and between him and this island was a country of which the plain was as large as the sea, 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. and in the castle he saw a fair hall of which the roof seemed to be all gold, the walls of the hall seemed to be entirely of glittering precious gems, the doors all seemed to be of gold. golden seats he saw in the hall, and silver tables. and on a seat opposite to him, he beheld two auburn-haired youths playing at chess. he saw 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 sparkling jewels of great price, {119} rubies, and gems, alternately with imperial stones. buskins of new cordovan leather on their feet, fastened by slides of red gold. {picture: p118.jpg} and beside a pillar in the hall he saw a hoary-headed man, in a chair of ivory, with the figures of two eagles of ruddy gold thereon. bracelets of gold were upon his arms, and many rings upon his hands, and a golden torquis about his neck; and his hair was bound with a golden diadem. he was of powerful aspect. a chessboard of gold was before him, and a rod of gold, and a steel file in his hand. and he was carving out chessmen. and he saw a maiden sitting before him in a chair of ruddy gold. not more easy than to gaze upon the sun when brightest, was it to look upon her by reason of her beauty. 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 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. she was the fairest sight that man ever beheld. the maiden arose from her chair before him, and he threw his arms about the neck of the maiden, 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 had his arms about the maiden's neck, and his cheek by her cheek, behold, through the chafing of the dogs at their leashing, and the clashing of the shields as they struck against each other, and the beating together of the shafts of the spears, and the neighing of the horses and their prancing, the emperor awoke. and when he awoke, nor spirit nor existence was left him, because of the maiden whom he had seen in his sleep, for the love of the maiden pervaded his whole frame. {120} then his household spake unto him. "lord," said they "is it not past the time for thee to take thy food?" thereupon the emperor mounted his palfrey, the saddest man that mortal ever saw, and went forth towards rome. and thus he was during the space of a 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 he loved best; but except when he slept he saw nothing of her, for 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 king of the romans. "lord," said he, "all thy people revile thee." "wherefore do they revile me?" asked the emperor. "because they can get neither message nor answer 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 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 existence 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 the three parts of the world, to seek for 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 tidings 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 exceeding sorrowful, for he thought that he should never have tidings of her whom best he loved. then spoke the king of the romans unto the emperor. "lord," said he, "go forth to hunt by the way that thou didst seem to go, whither it were to the east or to the west." so the emperor went forth to hunt, and he came 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 emperor's 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 this mountain they beheld vast plains, and large rivers flowing therethrough. "behold," said they, "the land which our master saw." and they went along the mouths of the rivers, until they came to the mighty river which they saw flowing to the sea, and the vast city, and the many-coloured high towers in the castle. they saw the largest fleet in the world, in the harbour 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 in the great ship they 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 {122} land that our master saw." and they went forward until they saw anglesey before them, and until they saw arvon likewise. "behold," said they, "the land our master 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 they beheld two youths playing at chess on the golden bench. and they beheld the hoary-headed man beside the pillar, in the ivory chair, carving chessmen. and they beheld the maiden sitting on a chair of ruddy gold. the messengers bent down upon their knees. "empress of rome, all hail!" "ha, gentles," said the maiden, "ye bear the seeming of honourable men, and the badge of envoys, 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 shall 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 you say, neither will i believe it too well. if the emperor love me, let him come here to seek me." and by day and night the messengers hied them back. and when their horses failed, they bought other fresh ones. and when they came to rome they saluted the emperor, and asked their boon, which was given to them according as they named it. "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." {picture: p123.jpg} and immediately the emperor set forth with his army. and these men were his guides. towards the island of britain they went over the sea and the deep. and he conquered the island from beli the son of manogan, and his sons, and drove them to the sea, and went forward even unto arvon. and the emperor knew the land when he saw it. and when he beheld the castle of aber sain, "look yonder," said he, "there is the castle wherein i saw the damsel whom i best 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 on 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 he told 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 islands 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. and she chose to have the highest castle made at arvon. and they brought thither earth from rome that it might be more healthful for the emperor to sleep, and sit, and walk upon. after that the two other castles were made for her, which were caerlleon and caermarthen. and one day, the emperor went to hunt at caermarthen, 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 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, {124} that she was sprung from a native of this island, and the men of the island of britain would not have made these great roads {125} 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 own overthrow, and should never return to rome again. so they made a new emperor. and this one 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." and even unto caerlleon came this letter to maxen, and these tidings. then sent he a letter to the man who styled himself emperor in rome. there was nought in that letter also but only this, "if i come to rome, and if i come." and thereupon maxen set forth towards rome with his army, and vanquished france and burgundy, and every land on the way, and sat down before the city of rome. a year was the emperor before the city, and he was no nearer taking it than the first day. and after him there came the brothers of helen luyddawc from the island of britain, and a small host with them, and better warriors were in that small host than twice as many romans. and the emperor was told that a host was seen, halting close to his army and encamping, and no man ever saw a fairer or better appointed host for its size, nor more handsome standards. and helen went to see the hosts, and she knew the standards of her brothers. then came kynan the son of eudav, and adeon the son of eudav, to meet the emperor. and the emperor was glad because of them, and embraced them. then they looked at the romans as they attacked the city. said kynan to his brother, "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 wood, and a ladder was made for every four men of their number. now when these were ready, every day at mid-day the emperors went to meat, and they ceased to fight on both sides till all had finished eating. and in the morning the men of britain took their food, and they drank until they were invigorated. and while the two emperors were at meat, the britons came to the city, {126a} and placed their ladders against it, and forthwith they came in through the city. the new emperor had not time to arm himself when 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 castle. and others of them kept the city, lest any of the host of maxen should come therein, until they had subjected all to their will. then spake maxen to helen luyddawc, "i marvel, lady," said he, "that thy brothers have not conquered this city for me." {126b} "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. and they told the emperor that none had taken the city, and that none could give it him, but the men of the island of britain. then the gates of the city of rome were opened, and the emperor sat on the throne and all the men of rome submitted themselves unto him. the emperor then said unto kynan and adeon, "lords," said he, "i have now had possession of the whole of my empire. this host give i unto you to vanquish whatever region ye may desire in the world." so they set forth and conquered lands, and castles and cities. and they slew all the men, but the women they kept alive. and thus they continued until the young men that had come with them were grown grey headed, from the length of time they were upon this conquest. {picture: p127.jpg} then spoke kynan unto adeon his brother, "whether wilt thou rather," said he, "tarry in this land, or go back into the land whence thou didst come forth?" now he chose to go back to his own land and many with him. but kynan tarried there with the other part, and dwelt there. and they took counsel and cut out the tongues of the women, lest they should corrupt their speech. and because of the silence of the women from their own speech, the men of armorica are called britons. from that time there came frequently, and still comes, that language from the island of britain. and this tale is called the dream of maxen wledig, emperor of rome. and here it ends. footnotes: {7a} add "successively." {7b} and he summoned to him. {10} add "bespattered." {11} and it may be that i shall have as much entertainment on account of the hunting as they. {15} good sir. {17} there. {19} and his words reached geraint. {22} as thou art impartial concerning the question of right between us. {27} more probably "though." the ambiguity of the original would be best expressed by "while." {36a} "lest he should be overtaken by a piteous death." {36b} "thine i do not consider a protection, nor thy warning a warning." {38} "wilt thou not at last be silent? thy protection do i not consider such." {39} "i declare to heaven," said he, "that thy protection i do not regard as such. hold thy peace, at last." {40} he spoke not a word, being angry. {47a} "do thou not go to his land beyond the bridge." {47b} "i will go my way in spite of the one thou speakest of." {48a} in a very rough and bitter manner. {48b} gereint took the road that he had meant to take; it was not the road that led to the town from the bridge that he took, but the road that led to the ground that was hard, and rugged, and high, and ridgy. {49} but it was unfair for gereint to have to fight him, so small was he, and so difficult to take aim at, and so hard were the blows he gave. and they did not end that part of their fight until their horses fell down on their knees. {53} "to complete thy death." {64} and what she did was to call her tutor to her, and she commanded him to dress her grave every year in such a way that nothing would grow on it. {66} and there were two silver spears, sharpened, in his hand. a prince's glaive was in his hand, a cubit from hilt to edge, that would draw blood from the wind; swifter was it than. {67} yes. and as for thee, thy head is not under thy control; curt is thy greeting. {70a} carnwenhan. {70b} dress. {71a} galldovydd. {71b} cnychwr. {71c} and adwy. {71d} annwas. {71e} sinoit. {72a} ysperin. {72b} erinit. {74a} llenuleawc. {74b} gwrdival. {74c} kai was said to be his son. {75a} add, "and from him is paris named." {75b} gweir, son of cadellin talaryant (cadellin of the silver brow). {76a} his flat breast was ruddy. {77a} hwyrdyddwc, drwgdyddwc, and llwyrdyddwc. {77b} cethtrwm. {78a} gweirdathar wenidawc. {78b} canhwch. {78c} arwy. {81a} "we all of us will come there," said kai. {81b} this dialogue consists of a series of repartees, with a play upon words which it is impossible to follow in the translation. {82} "oh man, since the sea does not allow a beautiful dead man in it, show me that dead body." "oh woman, the one to whom the dead body belongs thou wilt see here this evening." {84a} "i promise all this, and will obtain it," said he. {84b} "where are my bad servants and my knaves?" {85a} knee-pan. {87} the two oxen of gwlwlwyd wineu. {89} the harp of teirtu to console me that night. {92} garselit wyddel. {93} moro oerveddawc. {98a} and what he and his companions with him did was this--they crossed the three wards until he was within the fortress. {98b} glini. {99a} glini. {99b} add "some of." {100} there was but one horn on each side of my head, and there were no trees here except one oak sapling. {102} and they proceeded until they came to the wall opposite to where the prisoner was, where they heard lamentations and groaning on the other side of the wall. {103} and it was piteous to hear them. and he hastened to the place. {105} dyvnarth. {108a} hosts of ireland. {108b} and when all the hosts had fled, arthur and his men went to their ship in their sight, carrying with them the cauldron full of irish money. {108c} llwyddeu. {109} and he only killed one of his young pigs. {110} add "same night arthur." {111a} aber tywi. {111b} kynlas. {111c} and ever since they had crossed the irish sea, he had not appeared to them until then. {112a} and there was killed a young boar from among his pigs. {112b} and there was killed a young boar and a young sow. {114} but she turned again upon kacmwri; she beat both men soundly, disarmed them, and drove them out. {116} maxen wledig was an emperor at rome. and the comeliest man was he, and the wisest, and the one that was most fit to be an emperor, of all that had been before him. {117} not for the delight of hunting went the emperor so far as that, but to make himself such a man that he would be lord over those kings. {118a} valleys he saw, and precipices, and wondrous high rocks, and a rugged, waterless land. {118b} barren. {119} sparkling jewels laboriously wrought. {120} there was no joint of his bones, or cavity of his nails, not to speak of anything larger than these, that was not full of the maiden's love. {122} waterless. {124} helen of the legions. {125} legions. {126a} over the wall into the city. {126b} that it was not for me that thy brothers conquered the city. transcribed from the 1860 john murray edition by david price, email ccx074@pglaf.org. many thanks to birmingham library, england, for the generous provision of the material from which this transcription was made. http://www.birmingham.gov.uk/libraries.bcc. the sleeping bard; or visions of the world, death, and hell, by elis wyn. translated from the cambrian british by george borrow, author of "the bible in spain," "the gypsies of spain," etc. london: john murray, albemarle street. 1860. preface. the sleeping bard was originally written in the welsh language, and was published about the year 1720. the author of it, elis wyn, was a clergyman of the cambro anglican church, and a native of denbighshire, in which county he passed the greater part of his life, at a place called y las ynys. besides the sleeping bard, he wrote and published a book in welsh, consisting of advice to christian professors. the above scanty details comprise all that is known of elis wyn. both his works have enjoyed, and still enjoy, considerable popularity in wales. the sleeping bard, though a highly remarkable, is not exactly entitled to the appellation of an original work. there are in the spanish language certain pieces by francisco quevedo, called "visions or discourses;" the principal ones being "the vision of the carcases, the sties of pluto, and the inside of the world disclosed; the visit of the gayeties, and the intermeddler, the duenna and the informer." with all these the visions of elis wyn have more or less connection. the idea of the vision of the world, was clearly taken from the interior of the world disclosed; the idea of the vision of death, from the vision of the carcases; that of the vision of hell, from the sties of pluto; whilst many characters and scenes in the three parts, into which the work of elis wyn is divided, are taken either from the visit of the gayeties, the intermeddler, or others of quevedo's visions; for example rhywun, or somebody, who in the vision of death makes the humorous complaint, that so much of the villainy and scandal of the world is attributed to him, is neither more nor less than quevedo's juan de la encina, or jack o' the oak, who in the visit of the gayeties, is made to speak somewhat after the following fashion:- "o ye living people, spawn of satan that ye are! what is the reason that ye cannot let me be at rest now that i am dead, and all is over with me? what have i done to you? what have i done to cause you to defame me in every thing, who have a hand in nothing, and to blame me for that of which i am entirely ignorant?" "who are you?" said i with a timorous bow, "for i really do not understand you." "i am," said he, "the unfortunate juan de la encina, whom, notwithstanding i have been here many years, ye mix up with all the follies which ye do and say during your lives; for all your lives long, whenever you hear of an absurdity, or commit one, you are in the habit of saying, 'juan de la encina could not have acted more like a fool;' or, 'that is one of the follies of juan de la encina.' i would have you know that all you men, when you say or do foolish things, are juan de la encina; for this appellation of encina, seems wide enough to cover all the absurdities of the world." nevertheless, though there is a considerable amount of what is quevedo's in the visions of elis wyn, there is a vast deal in them which strictly belongs to the welshman. upon the whole, the cambrian work is superior to the spanish. there is more unity of purpose in it, and it is far less encumbered with useless matter. in reading quevedo's visions, it is frequently difficult to guess what the writer is aiming at; not so whilst perusing those of elis wyn. it is always clear enough, that the welshman is either lashing the follies or vices of the world, showing the certainty of death, or endeavouring to keep people from hell, by conveying to them an idea of the torments to which the guilty are subjected in a future state. whether elis wyn had ever read the visions of quevedo in their original language, it is impossible to say; the probability however is, that he was acquainted with them through the medium of an english translation, which was published in london about the beginning of the eighteenth century; of the merits of that translation the present writer can say nothing, as it has never come to his hand: he cannot however help observing, that a person who would translate the visions of quevedo, and certain other writings of his, should be something more than a fair spanish scholar, and a good master of the language into which he would render them, as they abound not only with idiomatic phrases, but terms of cant or germania, which are as unintelligible as greek or arabic to the greater part of the spaniards themselves. the following translation of the sleeping bard has long existed in manuscript. it was made by the writer of these lines in the year 1830, at the request of a little welsh bookseller of his acquaintance, who resided in the rather unfashionable neighbourhood of smithfield, and who entertained an opinion that a translation of the work of elis wyn, would enjoy a great sale both in england and wales. on the eve of committing it to the press however, the cambrian briton felt his small heart give way within him: "were i to print it," said he, "i should be ruined; the terrible descriptions of vice and torment, would frighten the genteel part of the english public out of its wits, and i should to a certainty be prosecuted by sir james scarlett. i am much obliged to you, for the trouble you have given yourself on my account--but myn diawl! i had no idea till i had read him in english, that elis wyn had been such a terrible fellow." yet there is no harm in the book. it is true that the author is any thing but mincing in his expressions and descriptions, but there is nothing in the sleeping bard which can give offence to any but the over fastidious. there is a great deal of squeamish nonsense in the world; let us hope however that there is not so much as there was. indeed can we doubt that such folly is on the decline, when we find albemarle street in '60, willing to publish a harmless but plain speaking book which smithfield shrank from in '30? the vision of the course of the world. one fine evening of warm sunny summer, i took a stroll to the top of one of the mountains of wales, carrying with me a telescope to assist my feeble sight by bringing distant objects near, and magnifying small ones. through the thin, clear air, and the calm and luminous heat, i saw many delightful prospects afar across the irish sea. at length, after feasting my eyes on all the pleasant objects around me, until the sun had reached his goal in the west, i lay down upon the green grass, reflecting, how fair and enchanting, from my own country, the countries appeared whose plains my eyes had glanced over, how delightful it would be to obtain a full view of them, and how happy those were who saw the course of the world in comparison with me: weariness was the result of all this toiling with my eyes and my imagination, and in the shadow of weariness, _mr. sleep_ came stealthily to enthrall me, who with his keys of lead, locked the windows of my eyes, and all my other senses securely. but it was in vain for him to endeavour to lock up the soul, which can live and toil independently of the body, for my spirit escaped out of the locked body upon the wings of fancy, and the first thing which i saw by the side of me was a dancing ring, and a kind of rabble in green petticoats and red caps dancing away with the most furious eagerness. i stood for a time in perplexity whether i should go to them or not, because in my flurry i feared they were a gang of hungry gipsies, and that they would do nothing less than slaughter me for their supper, and swallow me without salt: but after gazing upon them for some time, i could see that they were better and handsomer than the swarthy, lying egyptian race. so i ventured to approach them, but very softly, like a hen treading upon hot embers, that i might learn who they were; and at length i took the liberty of addressing them in this guise, with my head and back lowered horizontally: "fair assembly, as i perceive that you are gentry from distant parts, will you deign to take a bard along with you, who is desirous of travelling?" at these words the hurly-burly was hushed, and all fixed their eyes upon me: "_bard_," squeaked one--"_travel_," said another--"_along with us_," said the third. by this time i saw some looking particularly fierce upon me; then they began to whisper in each others ears certain secret words, and to look at me; at length the whispering ceased, and each laying his gripe upon me they raised me upon their shoulders, as we do a knight of the shire, and then away with me they flew like the wind, over houses and fields, cities and kingdoms, seas and mountains; and so quickly did they fly that i could fasten my sight upon nothing, and what was worse, i began to suspect that my companions, by their frowning and knitting their brows at me, wanted me to sing blasphemy against my king and maker. "well," said i to myself, "i may now bid farewell to life, these cursed witches will convey me to the pantry or cellar of some nobleman, and there leave me, to pay with my neck for their robberies; or they will abandon me stark naked, to freeze to death upon the sea-brink of old shire caer, {3} or some other cold, distant place;" but on reflecting that all the old hags whom i had once known had long been dead and buried, and perceiving that these people took pleasure in holding or waving me over hollow ravines, i conjectured that they were not witches but beings who are called fairies. we made no stop until i found myself by the side of a huge castle, the most beautiful i had ever seen, with a large pool or moat surrounding it: then they began to consult what they should do with me; "shall we go direct to the castle with him?" said one. "no, let us hang him or cast him into the lake, he is not worth being shown to our great prince," said another. "did he say his prayers before he went to sleep?" said a third. at the mention of prayers, i uttered a confused groan to heaven for pardon and assistance; and as soon as i recollected myself, i saw a light at a vast distance bursting forth, oh, how glorious! as it drew nigh, my companions were darkening and vanishing, and quickly there came floating towards us a form of light over the castle, whereupon the fairies abandoned their hold of me, but as they departed they turned upon me a hellish scowl, and unless the angel had supported me, i should have been dashed into pieces small enough for a pasty, by the time i reached the ground. "what is your business here?" said the angel. "in verity my lord," i replied, "i do not know what place _here_ is, nor what is my business, nor what i am myself, nor what has become of my other part; i had four limbs and a head, and whether i have left them at home, or whether the fairies, who have certainly not acted fairly with me, have cast me into some abyss, (for i remember to have passed over several horrid ravines,) i cannot tell, sir, though you should cause me to be hung." "fairly indeed," said he, "they would have acted with you, if i had not come just in time to save you from the clutches of these children of hell." "since you have such a particular desire to see the course of the _little world_," said he, "i have received commands to give you a sight of it, in order that you may see your error in being discontented with your station, and your own country. come with me," he added, "for a peregrination," and at the word he snatched me up, just as the dawn was beginning to break, far above the topmost tower of the castle; we rested in the firmament upon the ledge of a light cloud to gaze upon the rising sun; but my heavenly companion, was far more luminous than the sun, but all his splendour was upward, by reason of a veil which was betwixt him and the nether regions. when the light of the sun became stronger, i could see, between the two luminaries, the vast air-encircled world, like a little round bullet, very far beneath us. "look now," said the angel, giving me a different telescope from that which i had on the mountain. when i peeped through this i saw things in a manner altogether different from that in which i had seen them before, and in a much clearer one. i saw a city of monstrous size, and thousands of cities and kingdoms within it; and the great ocean, like a moat, around it, and other seas, like rivers, intersecting it. by dint of long gazing i could see that it was divided into three exceedingly large streets; each street with a large, magnificent gate at the bottom, and each gate with a fair tower over it. upon each tower there was a damsel of wonderful beauty, standing in the sight of the whole street; and the three towers appeared to reach up behind the walls to the skirts of the castle afore-mentioned. crossing these three huge streets i could see another; it was but little and mean in comparison with them, but it was clean and neat, and on a higher foundation than the other streets, proceeding upward towards the east, whilst the three others ran downward towards the north to the great gates. i now ventured to enquire of my companion whether i might be permitted to speak. "certainly," said the angel, "speak out! but listen attentively to my answers, so that i may not have to say the same thing to you more than once." "i will, my lord," said i. "now pray, what place is the castle yonder in the north?" "the castle above in the air," said he, "belongs to belial, prince of the power of the air, and governor of all the great city below: it is called delusive castle, for belial is a great deluder, and by his wiles he keeps under his banner all you see, with the exception of the little street yonder. he is a great prince, with thousands of princes under him--what were caesar or alexander the great compared with him? what are the turk and old lewis of france, but his servants? great, yea, exceeding great, are the power, subtlety, and diligence of the prince belial; and his armies in the country below are innumerable." "for what purpose," said i, "are the damsels standing yonder, and who are they?" "softly," said the angel, "one question at once: they are there to be loved and to be adored." "and no wonder indeed," said i, "since they are so amiable; if i possessed feet and hands as formerly, i would go and offer love and adoration to them myself." "hush, hush," said he, "if you would do so with your members, it is well that you are without them; know, thou foolish spirit, that these three princesses are only three destructive deluders, daughters of the prince belial, and all their beauty and affability, which are irradiating the streets, are only masks over deformity and cruelty; the three within are like their father, replete with deadly poison." "woe's me; is it possible," said i, quite sad, and smitten with love of them! "it is but too true, alas," said he. "thou admirest the radiance with which they shine upon their adorers; but know that there is in that radiance a very wondrous charm; it blinds men from looking back, it deafens them lest they should hear their danger, and it burns them with ceaseless longing for more of it; which longing, is itself a deadly poison, breeding, within those who feel it, diseases not to be got rid of, which no physician can cure, not even death, nor anything, unless the heavenly medicine, which is called repentance, is procured, to cast out the evil in time, before it is imbibed too far, by excessive looking upon them." "but how is it," said i, "that belial does not wish to have these adorers himself?" "he has them," said the angel; "the old fox is adored in his daughters, because, whilst a man sticks to these, or to one of the three, he is securely under the mark of belial, and wears his livery." "what are the names," said i, "of those three deceivers?" "the farthest, yonder," said he, "is called _pride_, the eldest daughter of belial; the second is _pleasure_; and _lucre_ is the next to us: these three are the trinity which the world adores." "pray, has this great, distracted city," said i, "any better name than _bedlam the great_?" "it has," he replied, "it is called _the city of perdition_." "woe is me," said i, "are all that are contained therein people of perdition?" "the whole," said he, "except some who may escape out to the most high city above, ruled by the king emmanuel." "woe's me and mine," said i, "how shall they escape, ever gazing, as they are, upon the thing which blinds them more and more, and which plunders them in their blindness?" "it would be quite impossible," said he, "for one man to escape from thence, did not emmanuel send his messengers, early and late, from above, to persuade them to turn to him, their lawful king, from the service of the rebel, and also transmit to some, the present of a precious ointment, called _faith_, to anoint their eyes with; and whosoever obtains this _true_ ointment, (for there is a counterfeit of it, as there is of every thing else, in the city of perdition,) and anoints himself with it, will see his wounds, and his madness, and will not tarry a minute longer here, though belial should give him his three daughters, yea, or the fourth, which is the greatest of all, to do so." "what are those great streets called?" said i. "each is called," he replied, "by the name of the princess who governs it: the first is the street of _pride_, the middle one the street of _pleasure_, and the nearest, the street of _lucre_." "pray tell me," said i, "who are dwelling in these streets? what is the language which they speak? what are the tenets which they hold; and to what nation do they belong?" "many," said he, "of every language, faith, and nation under the sun, are living in each of those vast streets below; and there are many living in each of the three streets alternately, and every one as near as possible to the gate; and they frequently remove, unable to tarry long in the one, from the great love they bear to the princess of some other street; and the old fox looks slyly on, permitting every one to love his choice, or all three if he pleases, for then he is most sure of him." "come nearer to them," said the angel, and hurried with me downwards, shrouded in his impenetrable veil, through much noxious vapour which was rising from the city; presently we descended in the street of pride, upon a spacious mansion open at the top, whose windows had been dashed out by dogs and crows, and whose owners had departed to england or france, to seek there for what they could have obtained much easier at home; thus, instead of the good, old, charitable, domestic family of yore, there were none at present but owls, crows, or chequered magpies, whose hooting, cawing and chattering were excellent comments on the practices of the present owners. there were in that street, myriads of such abandoned palaces, which might have been, had it not been for pride, the resorts of the best, as of yore, places of refuge for the weak, schools of peace and of every kind of goodness; and blessings to thousands of small houses around. from the summit of this ruin, we had scope and leisure enough to observe the whole street on either side. there were fair houses of wondrous height and magnificence--and no wonder, as there were emperors, kings, and hundreds of princes there, and thousands of nobles and gentry, and very many women of every degree. i saw a vain high-topt creature, like a ship at full sail, walking as if in a frame, carrying about her full the amount of a pedlar's pack, and having at her ears, the worth of a good farm, in pearls; and there were not a few of her kind--some were singing, in order that their voices might be praised; some were dancing, to show their figures; others were painting to improve their complexions; others had been trimming themselves before the glass, for three hours, learning to smile, moving pins and making gestures and putting themselves in attitudes. there was many a vain creature there, who did not know how to open her lips to speak, or to eat, nor, from sheer pride, to look under her feet; and many a ragged shrew, who would insist that she was as good a gentlewoman as the best in the street; and many an ambling fop, who could winnow beans with the mere wind of his train. whilst i was looking, from afar upon these, and a hundred such, behold! there passed by towards us, a bouncing, variegated lady with a lofty look, and with a hundred folks gazing after her; some bent themselves as if to adore her; some few thrust something into her hand. being unable to imagine who she was, i enquired. "oh," replied my friend, "she is one who has all her portion in sight, yet you see how many foolish people are seeking her, and the meanest of them in possession of all the attainments she can boast of. _she will not have what she can gain_, _and will never gain what she desires_, and she will speak to no one but her betters, on account of her mother's telling her, 'that a young woman cannot do a worse thing, than be humble in her love.'" thereupon came out from beneath us a pillar of a man, who had been an alderman, and in many official situations; he came spreading his wings as if to fly, though he could scarcely draw one knee after the other, on account of the gout, and various other genteel disorders: notwithstanding which, you could not obtain from him, but through a very great favour, a glance or a nod, though you should call him by his titles and his offices. from this being i turned my eyes to the other side of the street, where i beheld a lusty young nobleman, with a number of people behind him; he had a sweet smile and a condescending air to every one who met him. "it is strange," said i, "that this young man and yonder personage should belong to the same street." "oh, the same princess pride rules them both," answered the angel,--"this young man is only speaking fair on account of the errand he comes upon; he is seeking popularity at present, with the intent to raise himself thereby to the highest office in the kingdom--it is easy for him to lament to the people how much they are wronged by the oppression of bad masters; but his own exaltment, and not the weal of the kingdom, is the heart of the matter." after gazing for a long time, i perceived at the gate of pride, a fair city upon seven hills, and on the top of its lofty palace there was a triple crown, with swords and keys crossed. "lo! there is rome," said i, "and therein dwells the pope." "yes, most usually," said the angel; "but he has a palace in each of the other streets." over against rome, i could see a city with an exceedingly fair palace, and upon it was mounted on high, a half-moon on a banner of gold, and by that i knew that the turk was there. next to the gate after those, was the palace of lewis xiv., of france, as i understood by his arms, three fleurs-de-lis upon a silver banner hanging aloft. whilst looking on the height and majesty of these palaces, i perceived that there was much passing and repassing from the one to the other, and i asked what was the cause thereof? "oh, there is many a dark cause," said the angel, "why those three crafty, powerful heads should communicate; but though they account themselves fully adapted to espouse the three princesses above, their power and subtlety are nothing when compared with these; yes, belial the great does not esteem the whole city, (though so numerous be its kings), as equivalent to his daughters. notwithstanding that he offers them in marriage to everybody, he has still never given one entirely to anybody yet. there has been a rivalry between these three concerning them:--the turk, who calls himself _god upon earth_, wished for the eldest, pride, in marriage. 'no,' said the king of france, 'she belongs to me, as i keep all my subjects in her street, and likewise bring many to her from england and other countries.' spain would have the princess lucre, in despite of holland and all the jews. england would have the princess pleasure, in despite of the pagans. but the pope would have the whole three, and with better reason than all the rest together, therefore belial has stationed him next to them in the three streets." "and is it on this account that there is this intercourse at present," said i. "no;" he replied, "belial has arranged the matter between them for some time; but at present he has caused them to lay their heads together, how they may best destroy the cross street yonder, which is the city of emmanuel, and particularly one great palace which is there, out of sheer venom at perceiving that it is a fairer edifice than exists in all the city of perdition. belial moreover has promised to those who shall accomplish its destruction, the half of his kingdom during his life, and the whole when he is dead. but, notwithstanding the greatness of his power and the depth of his wiles; notwithstanding the multitude of crafty emperors, kings, and rulers, who are beneath his banner in the vast city of perdition; and notwithstanding the bravery of his countless legions on the outer side of the gates in the world below; notwithstanding all this," said the angel, "he shall see that it is a task above his power to perform. yes; however great belial may be, he shall find that there is one greater than he, in the little street yonder." i was unable to hear his angelic reasons completely, from the tumbling there was along this slippery street every hour, and i could see some people with ladders scaling the tower, and having reached the highest step fall headlong to the bottom. "to what place are those fools seeking to get?" said i. "to a place high enough," said he; "they are seeking to break into the treasury of the princess." "i will warrant it is full enough," said i. "it is," he replied; "and with every thing which belongs to this street, for the purpose of being distributed amongst the inhabitants. there you will find every species of warlike arms to subdue and to over-run countries; every species of arms of gentility, banners, escutcheons, books of pedigree, stanzas and poems relating to ancestry, with every species of brave garments; admirable stories, lying portraits; all kinds of tints and waters to embellish the countenance; all sorts of high offices and titles; and, to be brief, there is every thing there that is adapted to cause a man to think better of himself, and worse of others than he ought. the chief officers of this treasury are masters of ceremonies, vagabonds, genealogists, bards, orators, flatterers, dancers, tailors, mantua-makers, and the like." from this great street we proceeded to the next, where the princess lucre reigns; it was a full and prodigiously wealthy street, yet not half so splendid and clean as the street of pride, nor its people half so bold and lofty looking; for they were skulking mean-looking fellows, for the most part. there were in this street thousands of spaniards, hollanders, venetians, and jews, and a great many aged, decrepit people were also there. "pray, sir," said i, "what kind of men are these?" "they have all gain in view," said he. "at the lowest extremity, on one side, you will still see the pope; also subduers of kingdoms and their soldiers, oppressors, foresters, shutters up of the common foot-paths, justices and their bribers, and the whole race of lawyers down to the catchpole. on the other side," said he, "there are physicians, apothecaries, doctors, misers, merchants, extortioners, usurers, refusers to pay tithes, wages, rents, or alms which were left to schools and charity houses; purveyors and chapmen who keep and raise the market to their own price; shopkeepers (or sharpers) who make money out of the necessity or ignorance of the buyer; stewards of every degree, sturdy beggars, taverners who plunder the families of careless men of their property, and the country of its barley for the bread of the poor. all these are thieves of the first water," said he; "and the rest are petty thieves, for the most part, and keep at the upper end of the street; they consist of highway robbers, tailors, weavers, millers, measurers of wet and dry, and the like." in the midst of this discourse, i heard a prodigious tumult at the lower end of the street, where there was a huge crowd of people thronging towards the gate, with such pushing and disputing as caused me to imagine that there was a general fray on foot, until i demanded of my friend what was the matter. "there is an exceeding great treasure in that tower," said the angel, "and all that concourse is for the purpose of choosing a treasurer to the princess, in lieu of the pope, who has been turned out of that office." so we went to see the election. the men who were competing for the office were the _stewards_, the _usurers_, the _lawyers_, and the _merchants_, and the richest of the whole was to obtain it, because the more you have the more you shall crave, is the epidemic curse of the street. the stewards were rejected at the first offer, lest they should impoverish the whole street, and, as they had raised their palaces on the ruins of their masters, lest they should in the end turn the princess out of her possession; then the dispute arose between the three others; the merchants had the most silks, the lawyers most mortgages on lands, and the usurers the greatest number of full bags, and bills and bonds. "ha! they will not agree to night," said the angel, "so come away; the lawyers are richer than the merchants, the usurers are richer than the lawyers, and the stewards than the usurers, and belial than the whole, for he owns them all, and their property too." "for what reason is the princess keeping these thieves about her?" i demanded. "what can be more proper," said he, "when she herself is the arrantest of thieves." i was astonished to hear him call the princess thus, and the greatest potentates thieves of the first water. "pray, my lord," said i, "how can you call those illustrious people greater thieves than robbers on the highway?" "you are but a dupe," said he; "is not the villain who goes over the world with his sword in his hand and his plunderers behind him, burning and slaying, wresting kingdoms from their right owners, and looking forward to be adored as a conqueror, worse than the rogue who takes a purse upon the highway? what is the tailor who cabbages a piece of cloth, to the great man who takes a piece out of the parish common? ought not the latter to be called a thief of the first water, or ten times more a rogue than the other?--the tailor merely takes snips of cloth from his customer, whilst the other takes from the poor man the sustenance of his beast, and by so doing the sustenance of himself and his little ones--what is taking a handful of flour at the mill, to keeping a hundred sacksfull to putrify, in order to obtain afterwards a four-fold price?--what is the half-naked soldier who takes your garment away with his sword, to the lawyer, who takes your whole estate from you with a goose's quill, without any claim or bond upon it?--and what is the pickpocket who takes five pounds, to the cogger of dice who will cheat you of a hundred in the third part of a night?--and what is the jockey who tricks you in some old unsound horse, to the apothecary who chouses you of your money, and your life also with some old unwholesome physic?--and yet what are all these thieves to the mistress-thief there, who takes away from the whole all these things, and their hearts and their souls at the end of the fair?" from this dirty, disorderly street we proceeded to the street of the princess pleasure, in which i beheld a number of britons, french, italians, pagans, &c. she was a princess exceedingly beautiful to the eye, with a cup of drugged wine in the one hand, and a crown and a harp in the other. in her treasury there were numberless pleasures and pretty things to obtain the custom of every body, and to keep them in the service of her father. yea! there were many who escaped to this charming street, to cast off the melancholy arising from their losses and debts in the other streets. it was a street prodigiously crowded, especially with young people; and the princess was careful to please every body, and to keep an arrow adapted to every mark. if you are thirsty, you can have here your choice of drink; if you love dancing and singing, you can get here your fill. if her comeliness entice you to lust for the body of a female, she has only to lift up her finger to one of the officers of her father, (who surround her at all times, though invisibly), and they will fetch you a lass in a minute, or the _body_ of a harlot newly buried, and will go into her in lieu of a _soul_, rather than you should abandon so good a design. here there are handsome houses with very pleasant gardens, teeming orchards, and shadowy groves, adapted to all kinds of secret meetings, in which one can hunt birds and a certain fair coney; here there are delightful rivers for fishing, and wide fields hedged around, in which it is pleasant to hunt the hare and fox. all along the street you could see farces being acted, juggling going on, and all kinds of tricks of legerdemain; there was plenty of licentious music, vocal and instrumental, ballad singing, and every species of merriment; there was no lack of male and female beauty, singing and dancing; and there were here many from the street of pride, who came to receive praise and adoration. in the interior of the houses i could see people on beds of silk and down, wallowing in voluptuousness; some were engaged at billiardplaying, and were occasionally swearing or cursing the table keeper; others were rattling the dice or shuffling the cards. my guide pointed out to me some from the street of lucre, who had chambers in this street; they had run hither to reckon their money, but they did not tarry long lest some of the innumerable tempting things to be met with here should induce them to part with their pelf, without usury. i could see throngs of individuals feasting, with something of every creature before them; oh, how every one did gorge, swallowing mess after mess of dainties, sufficient to have feasted a moderate man for three weeks, and when they could eat no more, they belched out a thanks for what they had received, and then gave the health of the king and every jolly companion; after which, they drowned the savour of the food, and their cares besides, in an ocean of wine; then they called for tobacco, and began telling stories of their neighbours--and, i observed, that all the stories were well received, whether true or false, provided they were amusing and of late date, above all if they contained plenty of scandal: there they sat, each with his clay pistol puffing forth fire and smoke, and slander to his neighbour. at length i was fain to request my guide to permit me to move on; the floor was impure with saliva and spilt drink, and i was apprehensive that certain heavy hiccups which i heard, might be merely the prelude to something more disagreeable. from thence we went to a place where we heard a terrible noise, a medley of striking, jabbering, crying and laughing, shouting and singing. "here's bedlam, doubtless," said i. by the time we entered the den the brawling had ceased. of the company, one was on the ground insensible; another was in a yet more deplorable condition; another was nodding over a hearthful of battered pots, pieces of pipes, and oozings of ale. and what was all this, upon enquiry, but a carousal of seven thirsty neighbours--a goldsmith, a pilot, a smith, a miner, a chimney-sweeper, a poet, and a parson who had come to preach sobriety, and to exhibit in himself what a disgusting thing drunkenness is. the origin of the last squabble was a dispute which had arisen among them, about which of the seven loved a pipe and flagon best. the poet had carried the day over all the rest, with the exception of the parson, who, out of respect for his cloth, had the most votes, being placed at the head of the jolly companions--the poet singing:- "oh, where are there seven beneath the sky, who with these seven for thirst can vie? but the best for good ale, these seven among, are the jolly divine, and the son of song." disgusted with these drunken swine, we went nearer to the gate, to take a peep at the follies of the palace of _love_, the purblind king; it is a place easy to enter and difficult to escape from, and in it there is a prodigious number of chambers. in the hall opposite to the door was insane cupid, with his two arrows upon his bow, shooting tormenting poison, which is called _bliss_. upon the floor i could see many fair damsels, finely dressed, walking about, and behind them a parcel of miserable youths gazing upon their beauty, and each eager to obtain a glance from his mistress, fearing her frown far worse than death. one was bending to the ground and placing a letter in the hands of his goddess; another a piece of music, all in fearful expectation, like school-boys showing their tasks to their master; and the damsels would glance back upon them a smile, to keep up the fervour of their adorers, but nothing more, lest they should lose their desire, become cured of their wound and depart. on going forward to the parlour, i beheld females learning to dance and to sing, and to play on instruments, for the purpose of making their lovers seven times more foolish than they were already: on going to the buttery, i found them taking lessons in delicacy and propriety of eating: on going to the cellar, i saw them making up potent love drinks, from nail-parings and the like: on going to the chambers, we beheld a fellow in a secret apartment, putting himself into all kinds of attitudes, to teach his beloved elegant manners; another learning in a glass to laugh in a becoming manner, without showing to his love too much of his teeth; another we found embellishing his tale before going to her, and repeating the same lesson a hundred times. tired of this insiped folly, i went to another chamber, where there was a nobleman, who had sent for a bard from the street of pride, to compose a eulogistic strain on his angel, and a laudatory ode on himself; the bard was haranguing upon his talent--"i can," said he, "compare her to all the red and white under the sun, and say that her hair is a hundredfold more yellow than gold; and as for your ode, i can carry your genealogy through the bowels of an infinity of knights and princes, and through the waters of the deluge, even as high up as adam." "lo!" said i, "here is a bard who is a better inventor than myself." "come away, come away," said the angel, "these people are thinking to bamboozle the woman, but when they go to her, they will be sure to obtain from her as good as they bring." on leaving these people, we caught a glimpse of some cells, where more obscene practices were going on than modesty will suffer me to mention, which caused my companion to snatch me away in wrath, from this palace of whimsicality and wantonness, to the treasury of the princess, (because we went where we pleased, in spite of doors and locks.) there we beheld a multitude of beautiful damsels, all sorts of drink, fruit, and dainties; all kinds of instruments and books of music, harps, pipes, poems, carols, &c.; all kinds of games of chance, draught-boards, dice-boxes, dice, cards, &c.; all kinds of models of banquets and mansions, figures of men, contrivances and amusements; all kinds of waters, perfumes, colors and salves to make the ugly handsome, and the old look young, and to make the harlot and her putrid bones sweet for a time. to be brief, there were here all kinds of _shadows_ of pleasure, all kinds of _seeming_ delight; and to tell the truth, i believe this place would have ensnared me, had not my friend, without ceremony, snatched me far away from the three deceitful towers, to the upper end of the street, and set me down by a castellated palace of prodigious size, and very agreeable at first sight, but vile and terribly revolting on the farthest side, though it was only seen with great difficulty on the side of its deformity; it had a multitude of doors, and all the doors were splendid on the outside, but filthy within. "pray, my lord," said i, "if it please you, what is this wonderful place?" "this," said he, "is the palace of another daughter of belial, who is called _hypocrisy_; she here keeps her school; there is not a youth or damsel within the whole city, that has not been her scholar, and the people in general, have so well imbibed what she has taught, that her lessons have become a second nature, and intertwined with all their thoughts, words and actions, almost since the time of their childhood." after i had inspected for a time the falsehood of every corner of the edifice, a procession passed by with a deal of weeping and groaning, and many men and horses dight in habits of deep mourning. presently came a wretched widow, closely muffled, in order that she might look no more on this vile world; she was feebly crying, and groaning slowly in the intervals of fainting fits--verily, i could not help weeping myself, out of pity. "pooh, pooh," said the angel, "keep your tears for something more worthy; these faintings are only a lesson of hypocrisy, and in her great school these black garments were fashioned. there is not one of these people weeping seriously; the widow, before the body left the house, had wedded another man, in her heart; and if she could get rid of the expense attending the body, she would not care a rush if the soul of her husband were at the bottom of hell; nor would her relations, more than herself; because when his disease was hardest upon him, instead of giving him salutary counsel and praying fervently, for the lord to have mercy upon him, they only talked to him about his effects, and about his testament, or his pedigree, or what a handsome vigorous man he had been, and the like; so all this lamenting is mere sham--some are mourning in obedience to custom and habit, others for company's sake, and others for hire." scarcely had this procession passed by, when, lo, another crowd came in sight. a certain nobleman, prodigiously magnificient, and his lady at his side, were going along in state; many respectable men were capping them, and there were a thousand also behind them, shewing them every kind of submission and reverence, and by the _favours_, i perceived that it was a wedding: "he must be a very exalted nobleman," said i, "who merits so much respect from all these people." "if you should consider the whole, you would say something quite different," said my guide; "that nobleman is one from the street of pleasure; and the female, is a damsel from the street of pride, and the old man yonder, who is speaking with him, is one from the street of lucre, who has lent money upon nearly all the land of the nobleman, and is to-day come to settle accounts." we drew nigh to hear the conversation. "verily, sir," says the usurer, "i would not for all i possess, that you should want any thing that i can offer, in order that you may appear today like yourself, especially since you have met with a lady so amiable and illustrious as this." (the subtle old dog knowing perfectly well what she was all the time.) "by the lord above," said the nobleman, "the next greatest pleasure, to looking at her beauty, is to listen to your obliging discourse; i would rather pay you usury than obtain money gratis from any one else." "of a surety, my lord," said one of his principal associates, who was called flatterer, "my uncle shows you no respect but what is fully your right; but with your permission, i will assert, that he has not bestowed half the commendation on her ladyship which she deserves. i cannot myself produce, and i will defy any man to produce one lovelier than herself, in the whole street of pride; nor one more gallant than you, my lord, in the whole street of pleasure; nor one more courteous than you, dear uncle, in the whole street of lucre." "oh, that is only your good opinion," replied the lord, "but i certainly believe that two never came together with more mutual love than we." as they proceeded, the crowd increased, and every one had a fair smile and a low bow for the other, and forward they ran to meet each other with their noses to the ground, like two cocks going to engage. "know now," said the angel, "that you have not yet seen a _bow_ here, nor heard a _word_, that did not belong to the lessons of hypocrisy. there is not here one, after all this courtesy, that has a farthing's worth of love for the other; indeed they are for the most part enemies to one another. the nobleman here is only a butt amongst them, and every one has his hit at him. the lady has her mind fixed upon his _grandeur_ and his _nobility_, whereby she hopes to obtain precedence over many of her acquaintances. the miser has his eye upon his _land_, for his own son; and the others, to a man, on the money, which he is to receive as her portion, because they are all his subjects, that is, his merchants, his tailors, his shoemakers, or his other tradesmen, who have arrayed him and maintained him in all this great splendour, without yet obtaining one farthing, nor any thing but fair words, and now and then, threats perhaps. now observe how many masks, how many twists, hypocrisy has given to the face of the truth? he is promising grandeur to his love, having already disposed of his land; and she is promising portion and purity, whereas she has no purity, but purity of dress, and as for her portion it will not be long in existence, there being an inveterate cancer in it, even as there is in her own body." "well, here is a proof," said i, "that one never ought to judge by appearances." "yes," said he, "but come away, and i will show you something more." whereupon he transported me up to where stood the churches of the city of perdition, for every body in it had an appearance of faith, even in the age of disbelief. first we went to the temple of heathenism, where i could see some adoring the form of a man, others that of the sun, others that of the moon, and an innumerable quantity of similar other gods, even down to leek and garlick, and a great goddess termed _delusion_, obtaining general adoration, although you might see something of the remnants of the christian faith amongst some of these people. thence we went to a meeting of dummies, where there was nothing but groaning, and shivering, and beating the breast. "though there is here," said the angel, "an appearance of repentance and great submission, there is nothing in reality, but opinionativeness and obstinacy, and pride, and thick, thick darkness. notwithstanding they talk so much about their _internal light_, they have not even the spectacle-glasses of nature which the heathens have, whom you lately saw." from these dumb dogs we chanced to turn to a large church open at the top, with a prodigious number of sandals {23} at the gate, by which i knew that it was the temple of the turks; these people had only a dim and motley colored spectacle glass, which they called the koran, yet through this they were always gazing up to the top of the church for their prophet, who, according to the promise which he gave them, ought to have returned to them long ago, but has not yet made his appearance. from there we went to the church of the jews, people who had failed to find the way of escape from the city of perdition, although they possessed a pure, clear spectacle glass, on account of a film having come over their eyes from long gazing, for want of having anointed them with the precious ointment, _faith_. we next went to that of the papists. "behold," said the angel, "the church which _deceiveth the nations_! hypocrisy has built this church at her own expense; for the papists permit, yea enjoin the breaking of any oath made to a heretic, although it were taken upon the sacrament." from the chancel we passed through key-holes to the upper end of a cell which stood apart, full of burning candles at mid-day, where we perceived a priest with his crown shaven, walking about as if he were in expectation of visitors; presently there came a rotund figure of a woman, and a very pretty girl behind her, and they went upon their knees before him to confess their sins. "my spiritual father," said the good woman, "i labour under a burden too heavy to be borne, unless you in your mercy will lighten it; i married a member of the church of england, and"--"what," said the shaven crown, "married a heretic! married an enemy! there is no pardon for you, now or ever." at this word she fainted, and he vociferated curses at her. "oh, and what is worse," said she when she revived. "i have killed him!" "o, ho! you have killed him, well that is something towards obtaining reconciliation with the church; but i assure you, that unless you had killed him, you would never have got absolution, nor purgatory, but would have gone plump to the devil. but where is your offering to the cloister?" said he, snarling. "here," she replied, and handed him a pretty big purse of money. "well," said he, "i will now make your peace, and your penance is to remain a widow as long as you live, lest you should make another bad bargain." as soon as she had departed, the damsel came forward to make her confession. "your pardon, my father confessor," said she, "i have borne a child and murdered it." "very fair, in troth," said the confessor, "and who was the father?" "verily," said she, "it was one of your monastery"--"hush, hush," said he, "no scandal against the men of the church: but where is your atonement to the church?" "there," said she, handing him a gold coin. "you must repent, and your penance is to watch to night by my bedside," said he, smiling archly upon her. at this moment appeared four other bald-pates, hauling in a lad to the confessor, the poor fellow looking as pleased as if he were going to the gallows. "we have brought you a cub," said one of the four, "that you may award him a proper punishment for revealing the secrets of the catholic church." "what secrets?" said the confessor, looking towards a murky cell which was nigh at hand. "but confess villain, what did you say?" "in truth," said the wretch, "one of my acquaintances asked me, if i had seen the _souls_ shrieking beneath the altar, _on the day of the festival of the dead_? and i said, that i had heard the voice, but that i had seen nothing." "ah, sir, say the whole," said one of the others. "but i added," said he, "that i had heard that you were only deceiving us ignorant people, and that instead of souls shrieking, there were only seacrabs crackling beneath the carpet,"--"o son of the fiend! blasphemous monster!" said the confessor; "but proceed caitiff."--"and that it was a wire which turned the image of saint peter," said the fellow, "and that it was by the wire that the holy ghost descended from the gallery of the cross upon the priest." "o heritage of hell!" said the confessor. "so ho here! take him torturers, and cast him into the smoky chimney yonder for telling tales." "here you see," said the angel, "the church which hypocrisy desires should be called the catholic church, and the members of which she would fain have the world consider, as the only people destined to be saved; it must be owned, indeed, that they had the true spectacle-glass, but they spoiled it by cutting upon the glass numerous images; and they had true faith, but they mingled that precious ointment with their own novel inventions, so that at present they see no more than the heathen." thence we went to a barn, where stood a pert, conceited fellow preaching with great glibness, frequently repeating the same thing three times. "this man and his hearers," said the angel, "possess the true spectacle-glass, to see the things which pertain to their peace, but they lack now in their old age, a very essential matter which is called perfect love. various are the causes which drive folks hither; some come out of respect to their forefathers, some out of ignorance, and many for worldly advantage. they will make you believe with their faces that they are being strangled, but they can swallow a toad if necessary; and thus the princess hypocrisy does not disdain to teach some in barns." "pray," said i, "where now is the _church of england_?" "o," said he, "in the city high above, it constitutes a great part of the _catholic church_, and in the city here below, there are some probationary churches belonging to it, where the english and welsh are under probation for a time, in order to become qualified to have their names written in the book of the catholic church, and they who become so, _blessed are they for ever_. but alas, there are but very few who are adapting themselves to obtain honour above; because, instead of looking thitherward, too many suffer themselves to be blinded by the three princesses below, and hypocrisy keeps many with one eye upon the city above, and the other on that below; yea, hypocrisy has succeeded in enticing many from their path, after they have overcome the three other deceivers. come in here," said he, "and you will see something more;" whereupon he carried me to the gallery of one of the churches in wales, the people being in the midst of the service. and lo! some were whispering, talking and laughing; some looking upon the pretty women; others were examining the dress of their neighbours from top to toe; some were pushing themselves forward and snarling at one another about rank; some were dozing; others were busily engaged in their devotions, but many of these were playing a hypocritical part. "you have not seen yet," said the angel, "no, not amongst the infidels, shamelessness as open and barefaced as this: but thus, alas, we see _that the corruption of the best thing is the corruption worst of all_." the congregation then proceeded to take the sacrament, and every one displayed reverential feelings at the altar. however, (through the glass of my companion,) i could see one receiving the bread into his belly, under the figure of a _mastiff_, another under that of a _swine_, another like a _mole_, another like a _winged serpent_, and a few, o how very few, receiving a ray of celestial light with the bread and the wine. "yonder," said he, "is a roundhead who is about to become sheriff, and because the law enjoins, that every one shall receive the communion in the church before he obtains the office, he has come hither rather than lose it; but though there are many here who rejoice at seeing him, there has been no joy amongst us for his conversion, for he has only turned for the time; and thus you see how bold hypocrisy must be to present herself at the altar before emmanuel, who is not to be deceived. but however great she be in the city of perdition, she can effect nothing in the city of emmanuel, above the wall yonder." thereupon we turned our faces from the great city of perdition, and went up to the other little city. in going along i could see at the upper end of the streets, many turning half-way from the temptations of the _gates of perdition_, and seeking for the _gate of life_; but whether it was that they failed to find it, or grew tired upon the way, i could not see that any went through, except one sorrowful faced man, who ran forward resolutely, while thousands on each side of him were calling him fool, some scoffing him, others threatening, him and his friends laying hold upon him, and entreating him not to take a step by which he would lose the whole world at once. "i only lose," said he, "a very small portion of it, and if i should lose the whole, pray what loss is it? for what is there in the world so desirable, unless a man should desire deceit, and violence, and misery, and wretchedness, giddiness and distraction. _contentment and tranquillity_," said he, "constitute the happiness of man; but in your city there are no such things to be found. because who is there here content with his station? _higher_, _higher_, is what every one endeavours to be in the street of _pride_; give, give us a little more, says every one in the street of _lucre_; sweet, sweet, pray give me some more of it, is the cry of every one in the street of _pleasure_. and as for tranquillity, where is it? and who obtains it? if you be a great man, flattery and envy are killing you; if you be poor, every one is trampling upon and despising you; after having become an inventor, if you exalt your head and seek for praise, you will be called a boaster and a coxcomb; if you lead a godly life and resort to the church and the altar, you will be called a hypocrite; if you do not, then you are an infidel or a heretic; if you be merry, you will be called a buffoon; if you are silent, you will be called a morose wretch; if you follow honesty, you are nothing but a simple fool; if you go neat, you are proud, if not, a swine; if you are smooth speaking, then you are false, or a trifler without meaning; if you are rough, you are an arrogant, disagreeable devil. behold the world that you magnify," said he, "pray take my share of it." whereupon he shook himself loose from them all, and away he went undauntedly to the narrow gate, and in spite of every obstacle he pushed his way through, we following him; while many men dressed in black upon the walls, on both sides of the gate, kept inviting the man and praising him. "who," said i, "are the men above dressed in black?" "the watchmen of the king emmanuel," replied the angel, "who, in the name of their master, are inviting people and assisting them through this gate." by this time we were by the gate; it was very low and narrow, and mean in comparison with the lower gates. on the two sides of the door were the _ten commandments_; upon the first slab on the right side was written, "_love the lord with thy whole heart_, _&c._," and upon the second slab on the other side, "love thy neighbour as thyself;" and above the whole, "_love not the world nor the things which are therein_." i had not looked long before the watchmen began to cry out to the men of perdition, "flee! flee, for your lives!" only a very few turned towards them once, some of whom asked, "flee from what?" "from the prince of this world, who reigns in the children of disobedience," said the watchman; "flee from the pollutions which are in the world through the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eyes, and the vanities of life; flee from the wrath which is coming to overwhelm you!" "what," exclaimed the other watchman, "is your beloved city but a vast glowing roof cast over hell, and if you were here, you might see the fire on the farther side of your walls kindling, to burn you down into hell." some mocked them, others threatened to stone them unless they ceased their unmannerly prate; but some few asked, "whither shall we fly?" "hither," said the watchman, "fly hither to your lawful king, who yet offers you pardon through us, if you return to your obedience, and abandon the rebel belial and his deceitful daughters. though their appearance is so splendid, it is only deception; belial at home is but a very poor prince, he has only you for fuel, and only you as roast and boiled to gnaw, and you are never sufficient, and there will never be an end to his hunger and your torments. and who would serve such a malicious butcher, in a temporary delirium here, and in eternal torments hereafter, who could obtain a life of happiness under a king merciful and charitable to his subjects, who is ever doing towards them the good offices of a shepherd, and endeavouring to keep them from belial, in order finally to give to each of them the kingdom in the country of light? o fools! will ye take the horrible enemy whose throat is burning with thirst for your blood, instead of the compassionate prince who has given his own blood to assist you?" but it did not appear that these reasonings, which were sufficient to soften a rock, proved of much advantage to them, and the principal cause of their being so unsuccessful was, that not many had leisure to hear, the greater part being employed in looking at the gates; and of those who did hear, there were not many who heeded, and of those there were not many who long remembered; some would not believe that it was belial whom they were serving, others could not conceive that yonder little, untrodden passage was the gate of life, and would not believe that the three other glittering gates were delusion, the castle preventing them from seeing their destruction till they rushed upon it. at this moment there came a troop of people from the street of pride, and knocked at the gate with great confidence but they were all so stiffnecked, that they could never go into a place so low, without soiling their perriwigs and their plumes, so they walked back in great ill humour. at the tail of these came a party from the street of lucre. said one, "is this the gate of life?" "yea," replied the watchmen who were above. "what is to be done," said he, "in order to pass through?" "read on each side of the door, and you will learn." the miser read the ten commandments. "who," he cried, "will say, that i have broken one of these?" but on looking aloft and seeing, "_love not the world_, _nor the things that are therein_," he started, and could not swallow that difficult sentence. there was among them an envious pig-tail who turned back on reading, "_love thy neighbour as thyself_;" and a perjurer, and a slanderer turned abruptly back on reading, "_bear not false witness_;" some physicians on reading, "_thou shalt commit no murder_," exclaimed "this is no place for us." to be brief, every one saw there something which troubled him, so they all went back to chew the cud. i may add, that there was not one of these people, but had so many bags and writings stuck about him, that he could never have gone through a place so narrow, even if he had made the attempt. presently there came a drove from the street of pleasure walking towards the gate. "please to inform us," said one to the watchman, "to what place this road is leading?" "this is the road," said the watchman, "which leads to eternal joy and happiness;" whereupon they all strove to get through, but they failed, for some had too much belly for a place so narrow; others were too weak to push, having been enfeebled by women, who impeded them moreover with their foolish whims. "o," said the watchman who was looking upon them, "it is of no use for you to attempt to go through with your vain toys; you must leave your pots, and your dishes, and your harlots, and all your other ware behind you, and then make haste." "how should we live then?" said the fiddler, who would have been through long ago, but for fear of breaking his instrument. "o," said the watchman, "you must take the word of the king, for sending you whatsover things may be for your advantage." "hey, hey," said one, "_a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush_;" and thereupon they all unanimously turned back. "come through now," said the angel, and he drew me in, and the first thing i saw in the porch was a large baptismal font, and by the side of it a spring of saline water. "why is this here at the entrance of the road?" said i. "it is here," said the angel, "because every one must wash himself therein, previous to obtaining honour in the palace of emmanuel; it is termed the _fountain of repentance_." above i could see written, "_this is the gate of the lord_, &c." the porch and also the street expanded, and became less difficult as one went forward. when we had gone a little way up the street i could hear a soft voice behind me saying, "_this is the road_, _walk in it_." the street was up-hill but was very clean and straight, and though the houses were lower here than in the city of _perdition_, yet they were more pleasant. if there is here less wealth, there is also less strife and care; if there are fewer dishes, there are fewer diseases; if there is less noise, there is also less sadness, and more pure joy. i was surprised at the calmness and the delightful tranquillity that reigned here, so little resembling what i had found below. instead of swearing and cursing, buffoonery, debauchery, and drunkenness; instead of pride and vanity, torpor in the one corner, and riot in the other; instead of all the loud broiling, and the boasting and bustling, and chattering, which were incessantly stupifying a man yonder; and instead of the numberless constant evils to be found below, you here saw sobriety, affability and cheerfulness, peace and thankfulness, clemency, innocence, and content upon the face of every body. no weeping here, except for the pollutions pervading the city of the enemy; no hatred or anger, except against sin; and that same hatred and anger against sin, always accompanied with a certainty of being able to subdue it; no fear but of incensing the king, who was ever more ready to forgive than be angry with his subjects; and here there was no sound but of psalms of praise to the heavenly guardian. by this time we had come in sight of a building superlatively beautiful. o, how glorious it was! no one in the city of perdition--neither the turk nor the mogul, nor any of the others, possessed any thing equal to it. "behold the _catholic church_!" said the angel. "is it here that emmanuel keeps his court?" said i. "yes," he replied, "this is his only terrestrial palace." "has he any crowned heads under him?" said i. "a few," was the answer. "there are your good queen anne, and some princes of denmark and germany, and a few of the other small princes." "what are they," said i, "compared with those who are under belial the great? he has emperors and kings without number." "notwithstanding all this;" said the angel, "not one of them can move a finger without the permission of emmanuel, nor belial himself either, because emmanuel is his lawful king; belial rebelled, and for his rebellion was made a captive, with permission however to visit for a little time the city of perdition, and delude any one he could into his own rebellion and a share of his punishment. so great is his malice, that he is continually using this permission, though aware that by so doing he will only add to his own misery; and so great is his love of wickedness, that he takes advantage of his half liberty, to seek to destroy this city and this edifice, though he has long known that their guardian is invincible." "pray, my lord," said i, "may we approach and take a more minute view of this magnificent palace?" for my heart had warmed towards the place at the first sight. "certainly you may," said the angel, "because there i have my place, charge, and employment." the nearer we went to it, the more i wondered, seeing how lofty, strong, beautiful, pure, and lovely every part of it was; how accurate was the workmanship, and how fair were its materials. a rock wrought with immense labour, and of prodigious strength was the foundation stone; living stones were placed upon this rock, and were cemented in so admirable a manner, that it was impossible for one stone to be so beautiful in another place, as it was in its own. i could see one part of the _church_ which cast out a very fair and remarkable cross, and the angel perceiving me gazing upon it asked me "if i knew that part." i did not know what to answer. "that is the _church of england_," said he. these words made me observe it with more attention than before, and on looking up i could perceive queen anne, on the pinnacle of the building, with a sword in each hand. with the one in her left, which is called justice, she preserves her subjects from the men of the city of perdition; and with the other in her right, which is the sword of the spirit, or the word of god, she preserves them from belial and his spiritual evils. under the left sword were the _laws of england_; under the other was a large _bible_. the sword of the spirit was fiery and of prodigious length, it would kill at a distance to which the other sword could not reach. i observed the other princes with the same arms, defending their portions of the church; but i could see that the portion of my queen was the fairest, and that her arms were the most bright. by her right hand, i could see a multitude of people in black--archbishops, bishops, and teachers, assisting her in sustaining the sword of the spirit; and some of the soldiers and civil officers, and a few, very few of the lawyers, supporting, along with her, the other sword. i obtained permission to rest a little by one of the magnificent doors, whither people were coming to obtain the dignity of the _universal church_; a tall angel was keeping the door, and the church within side was so vividly light, that it was useless for _hypocrisy_ to show her visage there--she sometimes appeared at the door, but never went in. after i had been gazing about a quarter of an hour, there came a _papist_, who imagined that the pope possessed the catholic church, and he claimed his share of dignity. "what proof of your dignity have you?" said the porter. "i have plenty," said he, "of _traditions of the fathers_, and _acts of the congresses of the church_; but what further assurance do i need, than the word of the pope, who sits upon the infallible chair?" then the porter proceeded to open an exceedingly large bible. "behold," said he, "the only statute book which we use here, prove your claim out of that, or depart;" whereupon he departed. at this moment there came a drove of quakers, who wanted to go in with their hats upon their heads, but they were turned back for their unmannerly behaviour. after that, some of the children of the barn, who had been there for some time, began to speak. "we have," said they, "no other statute than you, therefore show us our dignity." "stay," said the glittering porter, looking them fixedly in the face, "and i will show you something. do you see yonder," said he, "the rent which you made in the church, that you might go out of it, without the slightest cause or reason? and now, what do you want here? go back to the narrow gate, wash yourselves well in the fountain of repentance, in order to free yourselves from some of the kingly blood, in which you steeped yourselves formerly; bring some of that water to moisten the clay, to close up the rent yonder, and then, and then only, you shall be welcome." but before we had proceeded a rood farther towards the west, we heard a buzz amongst the princes above, and every one, great and small, seized his arms, and proceeded to harness himself as if for battle; and before we had time to espy a place to flee to, the whole air became dark, and the city was more deeply over-shadowed than during an eclipse; the thunder began to roar, and the lightnings to dart forkedly, and a ceaseless shower of mortal arrows, was directed from the gates below, against the catholic church; and unless every one had had a shield in his hand to receive the fiery darts, and unless the foundation stone had been too strong for any thing to make an impression upon it, you would have seen the whole in conflagration. but alas! this was but the prologue, or a foretaste of what was to follow; for the darkness speedily became seven times blacker, and _belial_ himself appeared upon the densest cloud, and around him were his choicest warriors, both terrestrial and infernal, to receive and execute his will, on their particular sides. he had enjoined the pope, and the king of france, his other son, to destroy the church of england and its queen; and the turk and the muscovite, to break to pieces the other parts of the church, and to slay the people; the queen and the other princes, were by no means to be spared; and the bible was to be burned in spite of every thing. the first thing which the queen and the other saints did, was to fall upon their knees, and complain of their wrongs to the king of kings, in these words:--"_the spreading of his wings covereth the extent of thy land_, _o emmanuel_!" isaiah 8. iii. this complaint was answered by a voice, which said, "_resist the devil and he will flee from you_;" and then ensued the hardest and most stubborn engagement, which had ever been upon the earth. when the _sword of the spirit_ began to be waved, belial and his infernal legions began to retreat, and the pope to falter. the king of france, it is true, held out; yet even he nearly lost heart, for he saw the queen and her subjects united and prosperous, whilst his own ships were sunk, his soldiers slaughtered, and thousands of his subjects rebelling. the very turk was becoming as gentle as a lamb; but just at that moment my heavenly associate quitted me, darting up towards the firmament, to myriads of other shining powers, and my dream was at an end. yes, just as the pope and the other terrestrial powers, were beginning to sneak away, and to faint, and the potentates of hell to fall by tens of thousands, each making, to my imagination's ear, as much noise as if a huge mountain had been precipitated into the depths of the sea, my companion quitted me, and there was an end of my dream; for what with the noise made by the fiends, and the agitation which i felt at losing my companion, i awoke from my sleep, and returned with the utmost reluctance to my sluggish clod, thinking how noble and delightful it was to be a _free_ spirit, to wander about in angelic company, quite secure, though seemingly in the midst of peril. i had now nothing to console me, save the muse, and she being half angry, would do nothing more than bleat to me the following strains. the perishing world. o man, upon this building gaze, the mansion of the human race, the world terrestrial see! its architect's the king on high, who ne'er was born and ne'er will die-the blest divinity. the world, its wall, its starlights all, its stores, where'er they lie, its wondrous brute variety, its reptiles, fish, and birds that fly, and cannot number'd be, the god above, to show his love, did give, o man, to thee. for man, for man, whom he did plan, god caus'd arise this edifice, equal to heaven in all but size, beneath the sun so fair; then it he view'd, and that 'twas good for man, he was aware. man only sought to know at first evil, and of the thing accursed obtain a sample small. the sample grew a giantess, 'tis easy from her size to guess the whole her prey will fall. cellar and turret high, through hell's dark treachery, now reeling, rocking terribly, in swooning pangs appear; the orchards round, are only found vile sedge and weeds to bear; the roof gives way, more, more each day, the walls too, spite of all their might, have frightful cracks, down all their height, which coming ruin show; the dragons tell, that danger fell, now lurks the house below. o man! this building fair and proud, from its foundation to the cloud, is all in dangerous plight; beneath thee quakes and shakes the ground; 'tis all, e'en down to hell's profound, a bog that scares the sight. the sin man wrought, the deluge brought, and without fail a fiery gale, before which every thing shall quail, his deeds shall waken now; worse evermore, till all is o'er, thy case, o world, shall grow. there's one place free, yet, man for thee, where mercies reign, a place to which thou may'st attain, seek there a residence to gain lest thou in caverns howl; for save thou there shalt quick repair, woe to thy wretched soul! towards yon building turn your face! too strong by far is yonder place to lose the victory. 'tis better than the reeling world; for all the ills by hell uphurl'd it has a remedy. sublime it braves the wildest waves; it is a refuge place impregnable to belial's race, with stones, emitting vivid rays, above its stately porch; itself, and those therein, compose the universal church. though slaves of sin we long have been, with faith sincere we shall win pardon there; then in let's press, o, brethren dear, and claim our dignity! by doing so, we saints below and saints on high shall be. a vision of death in his palace below. in one of the long, black, chilly nights of winter, when it was much warmer in a kitchen of glyn-cywarch, than on the summit of cadair idris, and much more pleasant to be in a snug chamber, with a warm bed-fellow, than in a shroud in the church yard, i was mussing upon some discourses which had passed between me and a neighbour, upon _the shortness of human life_, and how certain every one is of dying, and how uncertain as to the time. whilst thus engaged, having but newly laid my head down upon the pillow, and being about half awake, i felt a great weight coming stealthily upon me, from the crown of my head to my heel, so that i could not stir a finger, nor any thing except my tongue, and beheld a lad upon my breast, and a lass mounted upon his back. on looking sharply, i guessed, from the warm smell which came from him, his clammy locks, and his gummy eyes, that the lad must be _master sleep_. "pray, sir," said i, squealing, "what have i done to you, that you bring that witch here to suffocate me?" "hush," said he, "it is only my sister _nightmare_; we are both going to visit our brother _death_, and have need of a third, and lest you should resist, we have come upon you without warning, as he himself will sometime; therefore you must come, whether you will or not." "alas!" said i, "must i die?" "o no," said _nightmare_; "we will spare you this time." "but with your favour," said i, "your brother death never spared any one yet who was brought within reach of his dart; the fellow even ventured to fling a fall with the lord of life himself, though it is true he gained very little by his daring." at these words _nightmare_ arose full of wrath and departed. "hey," said _sleep_, "come away, and you shall have no cause to repent of your journey." "well," said i, "may there never be night to _saint sleep_, and may _nightmare_ never obtain any other place to crouch upon than the top of an awl, unless you return me to where you found me." then away he went with me, over woods and precipices, over oceans and valleys, over castles and towers, rivers and crags; and where did we descend, but by one of the gates of the daughters of belial, on the posterior side of the _city of perdition_, and i could there perceive, that the three gates of perdition contracted into one on the hinder side, and opened into the same place--a place foggy, cold, and pestilential, replete with an unwholesome vapour, and clouds, lowering and terrible. "pray, sir," said i, "what dungeon of a place is this?" "_the chambers of death_," said _sleep_. i had scarcely time to enquire, before i heard some people crying, some screaming, some groaning, some talking deliriously, some uttering blasphemies in a feeble tone: others in great agony, as if about to give up the ghost. here and there one, after a mighty shout would become silent, and then forthwith i could hear a key revolving in a lock; i turned at the sound to look for the door, and by dint of long gazing, i could see tens of thousands of doors, apparently far off though close by my side notwithstanding. "please to inform me, master sleep," said i, "to what place these doors open?" "they open," he replied, "into the _land of oblivion_, a vast country under the rule of my brother death; and the great wall here, is the limit of the immense eternity." as i looked i could see a little death at each door, all with different arms, and different names, though evidently they were all subjects of the same king. notwithstanding which, there was much contention between them concerning the sick; for the one wished to snatch the sick through his door, and the other would fain have him through his own. on drawing near, we could see above every door, the name of the death written, who kept it; and likewise by every door, hundreds of various things left scattered about, denoting the haste of those who went through. over one door i could see _famine_, though purses and full bags were lying on the ground beside it, and boxes nailed up, standing near. "that," said he, "is the gate of the _misers_." "to whom," said i, "do these rags belong?" "principally to misers," he replied; "but there are some there belonging to lazy idlers, and to ballad singers, and to others, poor in every thing, but spirit, who preferred starvation to begging." in the next door was the death of the _ruling passion_, and parallel with it i could hear many voices, as of men in the extremity of cold. by this door were many books, some pots and flaggons, here and there a staff and a walking stick, some compasses and charts, and shipping tackle. "this is the road by which scholars go," said i. "some scholars go by it," said he, "solitary, helpless wretches, whose relations have stripped them of their last article of raiment; but people of various other descriptions go by it also. those," said he, (speaking of the pots,) "are the relics of jolly companions, whose feet are freezing under benches, whilst their heads are boiling with drink and uproar; and the things yonder belong to travellers of snowy mountains, and to traffickers in the north sea." next at hand was a meagre skeleton of a figure, called the _death of fear_. through his exterior you might see that he did not possess any heart; and by his door there were bags, and chests also, and locks and castles. by this gate went usurers, bad governors and tyrants, and some of the murderers, but the plurality of the latter were driven past to the next gate, where there was a death called _gallows_, with his cord ready for their necks. next was to be seen the _death of love_, and by his feet were hundreds of instruments, and books of music, and verses, and love letters, and also ointments and colors to beautify the countenance, and a thousand other embellishing wares, and also some swords. "with some of those swords," said my companion, "bandits have been slain whilst fighting for women, and with others, love-lorn creatures have stabbed themselves." i could perceive that this death was purblind. at the next door, was a death who had the most repulsive figure of all: his entire liver was consumed. he was called the _death of envy_. "this one," said sleep, "assaults losing gamesters, slanderers, and many a female rider, who repineth at the law which rendered the wife subject to her husband." "pray, sir," said i, "what is the meaning of female rider?" "female rider," said he, "is the term used here, for the woman who would ride her husband, her neighbours, and her country too, if possible, and the end of her long riding will be, that she will ride the devil, from that door, down to hell." next stood the door of the _death of ambition_, and of those who lift their nostrils on high, and break their shins for want of looking beneath their feet. beside this door were crowns, sceptres, banners, all sorts of patents and commissions, and all kinds of heraldric and warlike arms. but before i could look on any more of these countless doors, i heard a voice commanding me by my name to prepare. at this word, i could feel myself beginning to melt, like a snow ball in the heat of the sun; whereupon my master gave me some soporific drink, so that i fell asleep, but by the time i awoke, he had conveyed me to a considerable distance, on the other side of the wall. i found myself in a valley of pitchy darkness, and as it seemed to me, limitless. at the end of a little time, i could see by a dim light, like that of a dying candle, innumerable human shades--some on foot, and some on horseback, running through one another like the wind, silently and with wonderful solemnity. it was a desert, bare, and blasted country, without grass, or vegetation, or woods, and without animals, with the exception of deadly monsters, and venomous reptiles of every kind; serpents, snakes, lice, toads, maw-worms, locusts, ear-wigs, and the like, which all exist on human corruption. through myriads of shades, and creeping things, graves, sepulchres, and cemeteries, we proceeded, without interruption, to observe the country. at last i perceived some of the shades turning and looking upon me; and suddenly, notwithstanding the great silence that had prevailed before, there was a whispering from one to the other that there was a _living man_ at hand. "a living man," said one; "a living man," said the other; and they came thronging about me like caterpillars from every corner. "how did you come hither, sirrah?" said a little morkin of a death who was there. "truly sir," said i, "i know no more than yourself." "what do they call you?" he demanded. "call me what you please, here in your own country," i replied, "but at home i am called _the sleeping bard_." at that word i beheld a crooked old man, with a double head like to a rough-barked thorn tree, raising himself erect, and looking upon me worse than the black devil himself; and lo! without saying a word, he hurled a large human skull at my head--many thanks to a tombstone which shielded me. "pray be quiet, sir," said i. "i am but a stranger, who was never here before, and you may be sure i will never return, if i can once reach home again." "i will give you cause to remember having been here," said he; and attacked me with a thigh-bone, like a very devil, whilst i avoided his blows as well as i could. "by heavens," said i, "this is a most inhospitable country to strangers. is there a justice of the peace here?" "peace!" said he, "what peace do you deserve, who will not let people rest in their graves?" "pray, sir," said i, "may i be allowed to know your name, because i am not aware of ever having disturbed any one in this country." "sirrah," said he, "know that not you are the sleeping bard, but that i am that person; and i have been allowed to rest here for nine hundred years, by every one but yourself." and he attacked me again. "forbear, my brother," said merddyn, who was near at hand, "be not too hot; rather be thankful to him for keeping an honorable remembrance of your name upon earth." "great honor forsooth," said he, "i shall receive from such a blockhead as this. sirrah! can you sing in the four-and-twenty measures? can you carry the pedigree of gog and magog, and the genealogy of brutus ap sylfius, up to a millenium previous to the fall of troy? can you narrate when, and what will be the end of the combats betwixt the lion and the eagle, and betwixt the dragon and the red deer?" "hey, hey! let me ask him a question," said another, who was seated beside a large cauldron which was boiling, and going, bubble, bubble, over a fire. "come nearer," said he, "what is the meaning of this?" "i till the judgment day upon the earth shall stray; none knows for certainty whether fish or flesh i be." "i will request the favor of your name, sir," said i, "that i may answer you in a suitable manner." "i," said he, "am taliesin, {49} the prince of the bards of the west, and that is a piece of my composition." "i know not," said i, "what could be your meaning, unless it was, that the yellow plague {50} which destroyed maelgwn of gwynedd, put an end to you on the sea-shore, and that your body was divided amongst the crows and the fishes." "peace, fool!" said he, "i was alluding to my two callings, of man of the law and poet. please to tell me, has a lawyer more similitude to a raven, than a poet to a whale? how many a one doth a single lawyer divest of his flesh, to swell out his own craw; and with what indifference does he extract the blood, and leave a man half alive! and as for the poet, where is the fish which is able to swallow like him? he is drinking oceans of liquor at all times, but the briny sea itself would not slack his thirst. and provided a man be a poet and a lawyer, how is it possible to know whether he be fish or flesh, especially if he be a courtier to boot, as i was, and obliged to vary his taste to every ones palate. but tell me," said he, "whether there are at present, any of those fellows upon the earth?" "there's plenty of them," said i; "if one can patch together any nonsensical derry, he is styled a graduate bard. but as for the others; there is such a plague of lawyers, petty attornies, and scribes, that the locusts of egypt bore light upon the country, in comparison with them. in your time, sir, there were but bargains of tofts and crofts, and a hand's breadth of writing for a farm of a hundred pounds, and a raising of cairns and crosses, as memorials of the purchase and boundaries. there is no longer any such security, but there is far more craft and deceit, and a tombstone's breadth of written parchment to secure the bargain; and for all that, it is a wonder if a flaw be not in it, or said to be at least." "well then," said taliesin, "i should not be worth a straw in the world at present. i am better where i am. truth will never be had where there are many poets, nor fair dealing where there are many lawyers; no, nor health where there are many physicians." at this moment, a little grey-headed hobgoblin, who had heard that a living man was arrived, flung himself at my feet, weeping abundantly. "dear me," said i, "what are you?" "one who is grievously wronged every day in the world," said he. "may god move your soul to procure justice for me." "what is your name?" said i. "i am called _somebody_," he replied, "and there is scarcely a piece of pimping, or a calumny, or a lie, or tale, to set people at loggerheads, but must be laid upon me. 'verily,' says one, 'she is a prodigious fine girl, and she was praising you before somebody, notwithstanding that some very great person is paying his suit to her.' 'i heard somebody,' says another, 'reckoning that this estate was mortgaged nine hundred pounds deep.' 'i saw some one yesterday,' says the beggar, 'with a chequered slop, like a sailor, who had come with a large ship load of corn, to the neighbouring port.' and thus every ragged dog mangles me for his own wicked purposes. some call me friend--'i was informed by a friend,' says one, 'that so and so has no intention of leaving a farthing to his wife, and that there is no affection between them.' some others vilify me yet more, and call me bird--'a bird whistled in my ear, that there are bad practices going on there,' say they. it is true, some call me by the more respectable name of old person; yet, not half the omens, prophecies, and counsels, which are attributed to the old person, belong to me. i have never bidden people to follow the old road, provided the new one be better, nor a hundred similar things. but somebody is my common name," he continued, "him you will most frequently hear, to have been concerned in every atrocious matter. because, ask a person wherever a vile, slanderous falsehood has been uttered, who it was who said it, and he will reply, 'truly i don't know who, but somebody in the company said it;' question then every one in the company concerning the fable, and every one will say he heard it from somebody, but no one knows from whom. is not this a shameful injury?" he demanded. "be so good as to inform every one whom you may hear naming me, that i have never said any one of these things, nor have ever invented nor uttered a lie to slander any one, nor a story to set relations by the ears; that i do not go near them; that i know nothing of their history, nor of their affairs, nor of their accursed secrets; and that they ought not to fling their wickedness upon me, but on their own corrupt brains." at this moment there came a little death, one of the secretaries of the king, desiring to know my name, and commanding master sleep, to carry me instantly before the king. i was compelled to go, though utterly against my will, by the power, which, like a whirlwind carried me away, betwixt high and low, thousands of miles back to the left hand, until we came again in sight of the boundary wall, and reached a narrow corner. here we perceived an immense, frowning, ruinous palace, open at the top, reaching to the wall where were the innumerable doors, all of which led to this huge, terrific court. the walls were constructed with the sculls of men, which grinned horribly with their teeth. the clay was black, and was prepared with tears and sweat; and the mortar on the outside was variegated with phlegm and pus, and on the inside with black-red blood. on the top of each turret, you might see a little death, with a smoking heart stuck on the point of his dart. around the palace was a wood, consisting of a few poisonous yews and deadly cypresses, and in these, owls, blood crows, vultures and the like were nestling; and croaking continually for flesh, though the whole place was nothing but a stinking shamble. we entered the gate. all the pillars of the hall were made of human thigh bones; the pillars of the parlour were of shank bones; and the floors were one continued layer of every species of offal. it was not long before i came in sight of a vast and frightful altar, where i beheld the king of terrors swallowing human flesh and blood, and a thousand petty deaths, from every hole, feeding him with fresh, warm flesh. "behold," said the death who brought me there, addressing himself to the king, "a spark, whom i found in the midst of the land of oblivion; he came so light footed, that your majesty never tasted a morsel of him." "how can that be?" said the king, and opened his jaws as wide as an earthquake to swallow me. whereupon i turned all trembling to sleep. "it was i," said sleep, "who brought him here." "well," said the meagre, grizly king, turning to me, "for my brother sleep's sake, you shall be permitted to return this time, but beware of me the next." after having employed himself for a considerable time in casting carcasses into his insatiable paunch, he caused his subjects to be called together, and moved from the altar to a terrific throne of exceeding height, to pronounce judgment on the prisoners newly arrived. in an instant came innumerable multitudes of the dead, making their obeisance to their king, and taking their stations in remarkable order. and lo! king death was in his regal vest of flaming scarlet, covered all over with figures of women and children weeping, and men uttering groans; about his head was a black-red three-cornered cap (which his friend lucifer had sent as a present to him,) and upon its corners were written _misery_, _wailing_, and _woe_. above his head were thousands of representations of battles on sea and land, towns burning, the earth opening, and the great water of the deluge; and beneath his feet nothing was to be seen but the crowns and sceptres of the kings whom he had overcome from the beginning. on his right hand fate was sitting, seemingly engaged in reading, with a murky look, a huge volume which was before him; and on his left was an old man called _time_, licking innumerable threads of gold, and silver, and copper, and very many of iron. some few of the threads were growing better towards their end, and thousands growing worse. along the threads were hours, days, and years; and fate, according as his volume directed him, was continually breaking the threads of life, and opening the doors of the boundary wall, betwixt the two worlds. we had not looked around us long, before we heard four fiddlers, newly dead, summoned to the bar. "how comes it," said the king of terrors, "that loving merriment as ye do, ye kept not on the other side of the gulf, for there has never been any merriment on this side." "we have never done," said one of the musicians, "harm to any body, but have rendered people joyous, and have taken quietly what they gave us for our pains." said death, "did you never keep any one from his work, and cause him to lose his time; or did you never keep people from church? ha!" "o no!" said another, "perhaps now and then on a sunday, after service, we may have kept some in the public house till the next morning, or during summer tide, may have kept them dancing in the ring on the green all night; for sure enough, we were more liked, and more lucky in obtaining a congregation than the parson." "away, away with these fellows to the country of despair!" said the terrific king, "bind the four back to back and cast them to their customers, to dance bare-footed on floors of glowing heat, and to amble to all eternity without either praise or music." the next that came to the bar was a certain king, who had lived very near to rome. "hold up your hand, prisoner," said one of the officers. "i hope," said he, "that you have some better manners and favour to show to a king." "sirrah," said death, "why did you not keep on the other side of the gulf where all are kings? on this side there is none but myself, and another down below, and you will soon see, that neither he nor i will rate you according to the degree of your majesty, but according to the degree of your wickedness, in order to adapt your punishment to your crimes, therefore answer to the interrogation." "sir," he replied, "i would have you know, that you have no authority to detain me, nor to interrogate me, as i have a pardon for all my sins under the pope's own hand. on account of my faithful services, he has given me a warrant to go straight to paradise, without tarrying one moment in purgatory." at these words the king and all the haggard train gave a ghastly grin, to escape from laughing outright; but the other full of wrath at their ridicule, commanded them aloud to show him the way. "peace, thou lost fool!" cried death, "purgatory lies behind you, on the other side of the wall, for you ought to purify yourself during your life; and on the right hand, on the other side of that gulf is paradise. but there is no road by which it is possible for you to escape, either through the gulf to paradise, or through the boundary wall back to the world; and if you were to give your kingdom, (supposing you could give it,) you would not obtain permission from the keepers of those doors, to take one peep through the key hole. it is called the irrepassable wall, for when once you have come through you may abandon all hope of returning. but since you stand so high on the books of the pope, you shall go and prepare his bed, beside that of the pope who was before him, and there you shall kiss his toe for ever, and he the toe of lucifer." immediately thereupon, four little deaths raised the poor king up, who was by this time shivering like the leaf of an aspen, and snatched him out of sight like lightning. next after him came a young fellow and woman. he had been a jolly companion and she a lady of pleasure, or one free of her person; but they were called here by their naked names, drunkard and harlot. "i hope," said the drunkard, "i shall find some favour with you; i have sent to you many a bloated booty in a torrent of good ale; and when i failed to kill others, i came myself, willingly, to feed you." "with the permission of the court," said the harlot, "you have not sent half as much as i, and my offerings were burning sacrifices, rich roast meat ready for the board." "hey, hey!" said death, "all this was done for your own accursed passions' sake and not to feed me. bind the two face to face, as they are old acquaintances, and cast them into the land of darkness, and let each be a torment to the other, until the day of judgment." they were then snatched away, with their heads downwards. next to these there came seven recorders. having been commanded to raise their hands to the bar, they would by no means obey, as the rails were greasy. one began to wrangle boisterously; "we ought to obtain a fair citation to prepare our answer;" said he, "instead of being rushed upon unawares." "but are we bound to give you that same specific citation," answered death, "since you obtain in every place, and at every period of your life, warning of my coming. how many sermons have you not heard upon the mortality of man? how many books have you not seen? how many graves, how many sculls, how many diseases, how many messages and signs have you not had? what is your sleep, but my own brother? what are sculls, but my visage? what does your daily food consist of but dead creatures? seek not to cast your neglect upon me. speak not of summons, when you have obtained it a hundred times." "pray," said one red recorder, "what have you to advance against us?" "what?" said death. "drinking the sweat and blood of the poor, and levying double your wages." "here is an honest man," replied the recorder, pointing to a pettifogger behind him, "who knows that we have never done any thing but what was fair; and it is not fair of you to detain us here, without a specific crime to prove against us." "hey, hey!" said death, "you shall prove against yourselves. place these people," said he, "on the verge of the _precipice_ before the tribunal of _justice_, they shall obtain equity there though they never practiced it." there were still seven other prisoners remaining, and these kept up a prodigious bustle and noise. some were flattering, others quarrelling, some blustering, some counselling, &c. scarcely had they been called to the bar, when lo! the entire palace became seven times more horribly dark than before, and there was a shivering and a great agitation about the throne, and death became paler than ever. upon enquiring what was the matter, one of the messengers of lucifer stepped forward with a letter for death, concerning these seven prisoners, and fate presently caused the letter to be read publicly, and these were the words, as far as i can remember. "_lucifer_, _king of the kings of the world_, _prince of hell_, _and ruler of the deep_, _to our natural son_, _the most mighty and terrible king death_, _greeting_, _pre-eminence_, _and eternal spoil_. "for as much as we have been informed by some of our nimble messengers, who are constantly abroad to obtain information, that seven prisoners, of the seven most villainous and dangerous species in the world, have arrived lately at your royal palace, and that it is your intention to hurl them over the cliff into my kingdom. i hereby counsel you to try every possible means, to let them loose back again upon the world; they will do you there more service in sending you food, and sending me better company, for i would rather want than have them; we have had but too much plague with their companions for a long time, and my dominion is still disturbed by them. therefore turn them back, or keep them with you. for, by the infernal crown, if you send them here, i will undermine the foundations of your kingdom, until it falls down into my own immense dominion. "_from the burning hall of assembly_, _at our royal palace in the pit of hell_, _in the year of our reign_, 5425." king death, hereupon, stood for some time with his visage green and pale, in great perplexity of mind. but whilst he was meditating, behold _fate_, turned upon him such an iron-black scowl, as made him tremble. "sirrah," said he, "look to what you do. it is not in my power to send any one back, through the boundary of eternity, the irrepassable wall, nor in yours to harbour them here; therefore forward them to their destruction, in spite of the arch fiend. he has been able hitherto, in a minute to allot his proper place to every individual, in a drove of a thousand, nay, even of ten thousand captured souls; and what difficulty can he have with seven, however dangerous they may be. but though these seven should turn the infernal government topsy-turvy, do you drive them thither instantly, for fear i should receive commands to annihilate you before your time. as for _his_ threats, they are only lies; for although thy end, and that of the old man yonder, (looking at time,) are nigh at hand, being written only a few pages further on, in my unerring volume, yet you have no cause to be afraid of sinking to lucifer; though every one in the abyss would be glad to obtain thee, yet they never, never shall. for the rocks of steel and eternal adamant, which form the roof of hell, are too strong for anything to crumble them." whereupon, death, considerably startled, called to one of his train, to write for him the following answer. "_death_, _the king of terror and conqueror of conquerors_, _to his revered friend and neighbour lucifer_, _king of eternal night_, _sovereign of the bottomless pool_, _sends greeting_. "after due reflection on your regal desire, it has appeared to us more advantageous, not only to our own dominion, but likewise to your own extensive kingdom, to send these prisoners, as far as possible from the doors of the irrepassable wall, lest their putrid odour should terrify the whole city of destruction, so that no man should come to all eternity, to my side of the gate; and neither i obtain any thing to cool my sting, nor you a concourse of customers from earth to hell. therefore i will leave to you to judge them, and to hurl them into such cells, as you may deem the most proper and secure for them. "_from my nether palace in the great gate of perdition_, _over destruction_. _in the year_, _from the renewal of my kingdom_, 1670." at hearing all this, i felt a great curiosity to know who these seven people could be, whom the devils themselves held in so much dread. but ere a minute had elapsed, the clerk of the crown called their names, as follows:--master meddler, alias _finger in every dish_; but he was so vehement and busy in advising the others, that he could not get a moment's time to answer for himself, until death threatened to transfix him with his dart. then _master slanderer_ was called, alias _enemy of fair fame_; but there was no answer. "he is too modest to hear his titles," said the third, "and he never can bear his nicknames." "do you suppose," said the _slanderer_, "that you yourself have no _titles_. call for," said he, "_master coxcomb_, alias _smooth gullet_, alias _poison smile_." "ready," said a woman who was there, pointing to the coxcomb. "o," said he, "_madam bouncer_! your humble servant, i am overjoyed at seeing you well. i have never seen a woman look handsomer in breeches. but, oh! to think how miserable the country must be behind you, for want of its admirable she-governor; yet your delightful company will make hell itself something better." "o son of the arch fiend!" said she. "with you there is no need of another hell, you are yourself enough." then the cryer called _bouncer_, or _mistress breeches_. "ready," said another. but she said not a word, for want of being called madam. next was called _contriver of contrivances_, alias _jack of all trades_; but he returned no answer either, for he was busied in devising a way to escape. "ready, ready," said one behind, "here he is, looking out for an opportunity to break through your palace, and unless you take care, he will have some notable contrivance to baulk you." said the contriver, "call him, i beseech you, _master impeacher of his brother_, alias _searcher of faults_, alias _framer of complaints_." "ready, ready, this is he," said a litigious pettifogger, for every one knew the name of the other, but would not acknowledge his own. "you shall be called," said the impeacher, "_master litigious pettifogger_, alias _the courts comprised_." "bear witness, i pray you all," said the pettifogger, "as to what the knave called me." "ho, ho!" said death, "not by the baptismal font, but by his sins, is every one called in this country; and, with your permission, master pettifogger, the names of your sins are those which shall stick to you henceforth for ever." "hey," said the pettifogger, "i swear by the devil that i will make you smart for this. though you are empowered to kill me, you have no authority to bestow nicknames upon me. i will file a complaint against you for defamation, and another for false imprisonment, against you and your friend lucifer, in the court of justice." by this time, i beheld the legions of death, formed in order and armed, with their eyes fixed upon the king, awaiting the word. "there," said the king, standing erect upon his regal throne, "my terrible and invincible hosts, spare neither care nor diligence in removing these prisoners from out of my boundaries, lest they prove the ruin of my country; cast them bound, over the precipice of despair, with their heads downward. but for the seventh, this courts comprised, who threatens me, leave him free over the chasm, beneath the court of _justice_, and let him try whether he can make his complaint good against me." then death reseated himself. and lo! all the deadly legions, after surrounding the prisoners and binding them, led them away to their couch. i also went out, and peeped after them. "come away," said sleep, and snatched me up to the top of the highest turret of the palace. thence i could see the prisoners proceeding to their eternal perdition. presently a whirlwind arose, and dispersed the pitch-black cloud, which was spread universally over the face of the land of oblivion, and by the light of a thousand candles, which were burning with a blue flame, at a particular place, i obtained a far distant view of the verge of the _bottomless gulf_, a sight exceedingly horrible; and also of a spectacle above, still more appalling, namely _justice_ upon his _supreme seat_, holding the keys of hell, at a separate and distinct tribunal over the chasm, to pronounce judgment upon the damned as they came. i could see the prisoners cast headlong down the gulf, and pettifogger rushing to fling himself over the terrific brink, rather than look once on the court of _justice_. for oh! there was there a spectacle too severe for a guilty countenance. i merely gazed from _afar_, but i beheld more terrific horror, than i can at present relate, or i could at that time support, for my spirit struggled and fluttered at the awful sight, and wrestled so strenuously, that it burst all the bands of sleep, and my soul returned to its accustomed functions. and exceedingly overjoyed i was to see myself still amongst the living. i instantly determined upon reforming myself, as a hundred years of affliction in the paths of righteousness, would be less harrowing to me, than another glance on the horrors of this night. death the great. leave land and house we must some day, for human sway not long doth bide; leave pleasures and festivities, and pedigrees, our boast and pride. leave strength and loveliness of mien, wit sharp and keen, experience dear; leave learning deep, and much lov'd friends, and all that tends our life to cheer. from death then is there no relief? that ruthless thief and murderer fell, who to his shambles beareth down all, all we own, and us as well. ye monied men, ye who would fain your wealth retain eternally, how brave 'twould be a sum to raise, and the good grace of death to buy! how brave! ye who with beauty beam, on rank supreme who fix your mind, should ye your captivations muster, and with their lustre king death blind. o ye who are at foot most light, who are in the height now of your spring, fly, fly, and ye will make us gape, if ye can scape death's cruel fling. the song and dance afford, i ween, relief from spleen, and sorrows grave; how very strange there is no dance, nor tune of france, from death can save! ye travellers of sea and land, who know each strand below the sky; declare if ye have seen a place, where adam's race can death defy! ye scholars, and ye lawyer crowds, who are as gods reputed wise; can ye from all the lore ye know, 'gainst death bestow some good advice? the world, the flesh, and devil, compose the direst foes of mortals poor; but take good heed of death the great, from the lost gate, destruction o'er. 'tis not worth while of death to prate, of his lost gate and courts so wide; but o reflect! it much imports, of the two courts in which ye're tried. it here can little signify if the street high we cross, or low; each lofty thought doth rise, be sure, the soul to lure to deepest woe. but by the wall that's ne'er re-pass'd, to gripe thee fast when death prepares, heed, heed thy steps, for thou mayst mourn the slightest turn for endless years. when opes the door, and swiftly hence to its residence eternal flies the soul, it matters much, which side of the gulf wide its journey lies. deep penitence, amended life, a bosom rife of zeal and faith, can help to man alone impart, against the smart and sting of death. these things to thee seem worthless now, but not so low will they appear when thou art come, o thoughtless friend! just to the end of thy career. thou'lt deem, when thou hast done with earth, these things of worth unspeakable, beside the gulf so black and drear, the gulf of fear, 'twixt heaven and hell. a vision of hell. one fair morning of genial april, when the earth was green and pregnant, and britain, like a paradise, was wearing splendid liveries, tokens of the smile of the summer sun, i was walking upon the bank of the severn, in the midst of the sweet notes of the little songsters of the wood, who appeared to be striving to break through all the measures of music, whilst pouring forth praise to the creator. i too occasionally raised my voice, and warbled with the feathered choir, though in a manner somewhat more restrained than that in which they sang; and occasionally read a portion of the book of the practice of godliness. nevertheless, my former visions would not depart from my remembrance, but continually troubled me by coming across all other thoughts. and they persisted in doing so, until, by arguing the matter minutely with myself, i reflected that there is no vision but what comes from above, to warn one to be upon one's guard, and that consequently it was my duty to write mine down, that they might serve as a warning to others also. i therefore returned to my home, and whilst overwhelmed with melancholy, i was endeavouring to collect some of my frightful reminiscences, i happened to give a yawn over my paper, and this gave master sleep an opportunity to glide upon the top of me. scarcely had sleep closed my senses, when, behold! a glorious apparition came towards me, in the shape of a young man, tall and exceedingly beautiful; his garments were seven times more white than snow, his countenance was so lustrous that it rendered the very sun obscure, and his curling locks of gold parted in two lovely wreaths upon his head, in the form of a crown. "come with me, mortal man," said he on coming up. "who art thou, my lord?" said i. "i am," he replied, "the angel of the countries of the north, the guardian of britain and its queen. i am one of the princes who are stationed beneath the throne of the lamb, who receive commands for the protection of the gospel, against all its enemies in hell and in rome, in france and constantinople, in africa and in india, and wheresoever else they are devising artifices for its destruction. i am the angel who conducted thee below to castle belial, and who showed thee the vanity and madness of the whole world, the city of destruction, and the excellence of the city of emmanuel, and i am come once more by his command, to show thee other things, because thou art seeking to turn to account what thou hast seen already." "how, my lord," said i, "will your illustrious majesty, which superintends kings and kingdoms, condescend to associate with such a poor worm as myself?" "o," said he, "we respect more the virtue of a beggar than the grandeur of a sovereign. what if i be greater than the kings of the earth, and higher than many of the countless potentates of heaven? as my wonderful master deigned to humble himself so inexpressibly as to wear one of your bodies, and to live among you, and to die for your salvation, how should i presume to be dissatisfied with my duty in serving you, and the vilest of the human race, since ye are so high in favour with my master? come out, spirit, and free thyself from thy clay," said he, with his eyes directed upwards. and with that word, i could feel myself becoming extricated from every part of my body. no sooner was i free, than he snatched me up to the firmament of heaven, through the region of lightning and thunder, and all the glowing armories of the sky, innumerable degrees higher than i had been with him before, whence i could scarcely descry the earth, which looked no wider than a croft. after permitting me to rest a short space, he again lifted me up a million of miles, until i could see the sun far below us; we rushed through the milky way and past the pleiades, and many other exceedingly large stars, till we caught a distant view of other worlds. at length, by dint of journeying, we reached the confines of the awful eternity, and were in sight of the two palaces of the mighty king death, which stand one on the right hand and the other on the left, and are at a great distance from each other, as there is an immense void between them. i enquired whether we should go to see the right hand palace, because it did not appear to me to resemble the other which i had seen before. "you will probably see," he replied, "sometime, still more of the difference which is between the one palace and the other; but at present it is necessary for us to sail another course." whereupon we turned away from the little world, and having arrived over the intervening gap, we let ourselves down to the country of eternity, between the two palaces, into the horrible void; an enormous country it was, exceedingly deep and dark--without order and without inhabitants--now hot, now cold--sometimes silent, sometimes noisy, with the sound caused by cataracts of water tumbling upon the flames and extinguishing them; which cataracts, however, did not long continue, for presently might be seen a puff of fire bursting out and consuming the water. there was here no course, nor whole, nothing living, nothing shapely; but a giddy discord and an amazing darkness which would have blinded me for ever, if my companion had not again displayed his heavenly garment of splendour. by the light which it cast i could see the country of oblivion, and the edges of the wilds of destruction in front, on the left hand; and on the right the lowest skirts apparently of the walls of glory. "behold the great gulf between abraham and dives," said my guide, "which is termed the place of chaos. it is the region of the elements which god created first; it is the place wherein are the seeds of every living thing, from which the almighty word made your world and all that therein is--water, fire, air, earth, animals, fishes and creeping things, winged birds, and human bodies, but not your souls, for they are of an origin and generation higher and more exalted." through the vast, frightful place of chaos we at length broke out to the left hand, and before travelling any distance there, where every thing was ever becoming more frightful, i could feel my heart at the top of my throat, and my hair standing like the prickles of the hedge-hog, even before seeing any thing; but when i _did_ see--oh! spectacle too much for tongue to relate, or for the spirit of man to behold. i fainted. oh, the amazing and monstrous abyss, opening in a horrible manner into the other world! oh, the continual crackling of the terrible flames, darting over the sides of the accursed precipice, and the flashes of linked lightning rending the black, thick smoke, which the unsightly orifice was casting up! my dear companion, having brought me to myself again, gave me some spiritual water to drink; o how excellent it was in its taste and color! after drinking of the heavenly water, i could feel a wonderful strength diffusing itself through me, bringing with it sense, heart, faith, and various other heavenly virtues. by this time i had approached with him unterrified to the edge of the steep, enveloped in the veil, the flames parting on both sides and avoiding us, not daring to come in contact with the inhabitants of the supreme abodes. then from the summit of the terrific precipice we darted down, like two stars falling from the firmament of heaven, a thousand million of miles, over many a brimstone crag, and many a furious, ugly cataract and glowing precipice, every thing that we passed looking always frowningly downward; yet every thing noxious avoided us, except once, when having thrust my nose out of the veil, i was struck by such a suffocating, strangling exhalation as would have put an end to me, if my guide had not instantly assisted me with the water of life. by the time that i had recovered, i perceived that we had arrived at a kind of standing place; for in all this loathsome chasm it was impossible to obtain any rest before, owing to the steepness and slipperiness of its sides. there my guide permitted me to take some further rest; and during this respite, it happened that the thunders and the hoarse whirlwinds became silent for a little while, and in spite of the din of the raging cataracts, i heard from afar a sound louder than the whole--a sound of horrible harsh voices, of shouting, bellowing, and strong groans, swearing, cursing, and blaspheming, till i would have consented to part with mine ears, that i might not hear. ere we moved a foot farther, we could hear a terrible tumbling sound, and if we had not suddenly slipped aside, hundreds of unfortunate men would have fallen upon us, who were coming headlong, in excessive hurry, to take possession of their bad purchase, with a host of devils driving them. "o, sir," said one devil, "take it easy, lest you should ruffle your curling locks. madam, do you wish for an easy cushion? i am afraid that you will be out of all order by the time you come to your couch," said he to another. the strangers were exceedingly averse to going forward, insisting that they were out of their road; but notwithstanding all they could say, go they did, and we behind them, to a black flood of great magnitude, and through it they went, and we across it, my companion holding the celestial water continually to my nostrils, to strengthen me against the stench of the river, and against the time when i should see some of the inhabitants of the place, for hitherto i had not beheld so much as one devil, though i had heard the voices of many. "pray, my lord," said i, "what is the name of this putrid river?" "the river of the fiend," said he, "in which all his subjects are bathed, in order that they may be rendered fit for the country. for this accursed water changes their countenance, and washes away from them every relic of goodness, every semblance of hope and of comfort." and, indeed, on gazing upon the host after it had come through, i could distinguish no difference in deformity between the devils and the damned. some of the latter would fain have sculked at the bottom of the river, and have lain there to all eternity, in a state of strangulation, lest they should get a worse bed father on; but here the proverb was verified, that "he must needs run whom the devil drives," for with the devils behind, the damned were compelled to go forward unto the beach, to their eternal damnation; where i at the first glance saw more pains and torments than the heart of man can imagine or the tongue relate; a single one of which was sufficient to make the hair stand erect, the blood to freeze, the flesh to melt, the bones to drop from their places--yea, the spirit to faint. what is empaling or sawing men alive, tearing off the flesh piecemeal with iron pincers, or broiling the flesh with candles, collop fashion, or squeezing heads flat in a vice, and all the most shocking devices which ever were upon earth, compared with one of these? mere pastime! here were a hundred thousand shoutings, hoarse sighs, and strong groans; yonder a boisterous wailing and horrible outcry answering them, and the howling of a dog is sweet, delicious music, when compared with these sounds. when we had proceeded a little way onward from the accursed beach, towards the wild place of damnation, i perceived, by their own light, innumerable men and women here and there; and devils without number and without rest, incessantly employing their strength in tormenting. yes, there they were, devils and damned, the devils roaring with their own torments, and making the damned roar, by means of the torments which they inflicted upon them. i paid particular observation to the corner which was nearest me. there i beheld the devils with pitch-forks, tossing the damned up into the air, that they might fall headlong on poisoned hatchels or barbed pikes, there to wriggle their bowels out. after a time the wretches would crawl in multitudes, one upon another, to the top of one of the burning crags, there to be broiled like mutton; from there they would be snatched afar, to the top of one of the mountains of eternal frost and snow, where they would be allowed to shiver for a time; thence they would be precipitated into a loathsome pool of boiling brimstone, to wallow there in conflagration, smoke, and the suffocation of horrible stench; from the pool they would be driven to the marsh of hell that they might embrace and be embraced by its reptiles many times worse than serpents and vipers; after allowing them half an hour's dalliance with these creatures, the devils would seize a bundle of rods of steel, fiery hot from the furnace, and would scourge them till their howlings, caused by the horrible inexpressible pain which they endured, would fill the vast abode of darkness, and when the fiends deemed that they had scourged them enough, they would take hot irons and sear their bloody wounds. there was here no fainting, nor swooning to evade a moment of suffering, but a continual strength to suffer and to feel, though you would have imagined after one horrible cry, that it would be utterly impossible there should be strength remaining to give another cry so frightfully loud; the damned never lowered their key, and the devils kept replying, "behold your welcome for ever and ever." and it almost seemed that the sauciness and bitterness of the devils, in jeering and mocking their victims, were worse to bear than the pain itself. what was worst of all, their conscience was at present utterly aroused, and was tearing them worse than a thousand of the infernal lions. we proceeded farther and farther downward, and the farther we proceeded, the more horrible was the work which was going on; the first place we came to in our progress was a frightful prison, in which were many human beings under the scourge of the devils, shrieking most shockingly. "what place is this?" said i. "that," said the angel, "is the couch of those who cry 'woe is me that i did not--!' hark to them for a moment!" "woe is me that i did not purify myself in time from every kind of sin!" says one. "woe is me that i did not believe and repent before coming here!" says the other. next to the cell of too late repentance, and of debate after judgment had been passed, was the prison of the procrastinators, who would be every time promising amendment, without ever fulfilling their promise. "when this business is over," says one, "i will turn over another leaf." "when this obstacle is removed, i will become a new man yet," says the other. but when the obstacle is removed, they are not a bit the nearer to reformation, for some other obstacle is always found to prevent them from moving towards the gate of righteousness, and if they do sometimes move a little, they are sure to turn back. next to this was the prison of vain confidence, full of those who, on being commanded to abstain from their luxuriousness, drunkenness, or avarice, would say, "god is merciful, and better than his word, and will not damn his creature for ever for so small a matter." but here they were yelping forth blasphemy, and asking where is that mercy, which was boasted to be immeasurable. "peace, helldogs," at length said a great lobster of a devil who was hearing them, "peace! would you have mercy without doing any thing to obtain it? would you have the truth render his word false, for the sake of obtaining the company of such filthy dross as you? too much mercy has been shown to you already. you were given a saviour, a comforter, and the apostles, with books, sermons, and good examples, and will you never cease to deafen us with bawling about mercy, where mercy has never been?" on going out from this fiery gulf, i could hear one puffing and shouting terribly, "i knew no better, nothing was ever expended in teaching me my duty, and i could never find time to read or pray, because i was obliged to earn bread for myself and my poor family." "aye," said a little crooked devil who stood by, "and did you never find time to tell pleasant stories?--no leisure for self vaunting during long winter evenings when i was in the chimney corner? now, why did you not devote some of that time to learning to read and pray? who on sundays used to come with me to the tavern, instead of going with the parson to church? who devoted many a sunday afternoon to vain prating about worldly things, or to sleep, instead of meditation and prayer? and have ye merely acted according to your knowledge and your opportunities? peace, sirrah, with your lying nonsense!" "o thou blood of a mad dog!" said the lost man, "it is not long since you were whispering something very different into my ear, if you had said that the other day, i should scarcely have come here." "o," said the devil, "we do not mind telling you the bitter truth here, since we need not fear that you will go back to tell tales." below this cell i saw a kind of vast pit, and in it what looked like an infinite quantity of loathsome ordure, burning with a green flame, and on drawing near, i was aware, from the horrid howling that proceeded from it, that it was composed of men piled one upon another, the horrible flames crackling meanwhile through them. "this hollow," said the angel, "is the couch of those who say after committing some great sin, 'pooh! i am not the first, i have plenty of companions;' and thus you see, they _do_ get plenty of companions, to verify their words and to increase their agony." opposite to this horrible place was a large cellar, where i could see men twisted, as tow is twisted, or hemp is spun. "pray," said i "who are these?" "panegyrists," said he, "and out of sheer mockery to them, the devils are trying whether it is possible to twist them as flexibly as they twisted their own discourse." a little way below that cell, i could but just descry a sort of prison-pool, very dark, and in it things which had been men, having faces like the heads of wolf-dogs, and up to their jaws in bog, barking blasphemy and lies most furiously, as long as they could get their sting above the mud. at this moment a troop of devils happening to pass by, some of these creatures contrived to bite in the heels, ten or twelve of the devils who had brought them thither. "woe and destruction to you hell-dogs!" said one of the devils who had been bit, "you shall pay for this;" and forthwith commenced beating the bog, till the wretches were drowned in the stinking abysses. "who," he then added, "have deserved hell better than you, who have been hunting up and devising gossip, and buzzing lies about from house to house, in order that you might laugh, after having set a whole country at loggerheads. what more could one of ourselves have done?" "that," said the angel, "is the bed of the tale-bearers, the slanderers, and the whisperers, and of all other envious curs, who are continually wounding people behind their backs with their hands or their tongues." from here we passed to a vast dungeon, by far the filthiest that i had seen yet, and the most replete with toads, adders, and stench. "this," said my guide, "is the place of the men who expect to get to heaven because they have no ill intentions, that is, for being neither good nor bad." next to this pool of ill savour, i beheld a place where a vast crowd were sitting, and without any thing visible to torment them, groaning more piteously than any that i had hitherto heard in hell. "mercy upon us," said i, "what causes these people to complain more than the rest, when they have neither torture nor devil near them?" "o," said the angel, "the less torment they have without, the more they have within. these are refractory heretics, atheists, antichristians, worldlywise ones, abjurers of the faith, persecutors of the church, and an infinity of such like wretches, who are abandoned entirely to the punishment of conscience, more tormenting than flame or devil, which domineers over them ceaselessly and without restraint. 'i will never permit myself any more,' says she, 'to be drowned in ale, nor to be blinded by bribes, nor deafened by music and company, nor lulled nor confounded by careless listlessness; for now i _will_ be listened to, and never shall the clack of the hated truth cease in your ears.' longing is ever raging within the wretch for the happiness which he has lost; memory is ever reproaching him by saying how easy it was to be obtained, and the understanding showing him the magnitude of his loss, and the certainty that nothing is now to be obtained, but indescribable gnawing for ever and ever. so with these three instruments--namely longing, memory, and understanding--conscience is tearing the lost one, in a manner far worse than all the devils in hell could tear him with their claws." on coming out of this wonderful nook i heard a confused talking, and after every word such a ghastly laughter, as if five hundred devils were casting their horns with laughing. on approaching to see the cause of such a rarity as laughter in hell, i discovered that it was only got up to incense two honorable gentlemen, newly arrived, who were insisting on being shown respect suitable to their gentility. one of them was a round bodied squire, having with him a big roll of parchment--namely his map of pedigree--out of which he recited from which of the fifty tribes of north wales he was sprung, and how many justices of the peace, and how many sheriffs his house had produced. "come, come," said one of the devils, "we know the merits of the greater part of your ancestry. if you had been like your father or your great grandfather, we should not have ventured to come in contact with you; but you are only the heir of the pit of darkness, you dirty hell-dog! you are scarcely worthy of a night's lodging," added he, "and yet we'll grant you some nook, wherein to await the dawn;" and with that word the goblin with his pitchfork, gave him more than thirty tosses in the fiery air, until he at length cast him into an abyss out of sight. "that may do," said the other, "for a squire of half blood, but i hope you will behave better to a knight, who has had the honor of serving the king in person, and can name twelve earls and fifty baronets belonging to his ancient house." "if your ancestors and your ancient house be all that you can bring in your defence, you may go the same road as he," said one of the devils, "because we can scarcely remember one ancient house, of which some oppressor, murderer, or strong thief did not lay the foundation, and which he did not transmit to people as froward as himself, or to lazy drones, or drunken swine, to maintain whose extravagant magnificence, the vassals and the tenantry must be squeezed to death, whilst every handsome colt or pretty cow in the neighbourhood must be parted with for the pleasure of the mistress, and every lass or married woman, may consider herself fortunate, if she escape the pleasure of the master; the freeholders, meanwhile, being either obliged to follow him like fawning hounds, rob themselves for his benefit, and sell their patrimonies at his pleasure, or be subject to frowns and hatred, and be dragged into every disagreeable and vexatious employment during their lives. "o these little great country folks," continued the devil, "how genteely they swear in order to obtain credit with their mistresses, or with the shop-keepers; and when they have decked themselves out, o how insolently they look upon many of the middling officers of the church and state, and how much worse on the common people! as if they were a species of reptiles in comparison with themselves. woe is me! is not all blood of the same color? did you not come all into the world by the same way?" "but, nevertheless, with your permission," said the knight, "there are some who are of much purer birth than others." "destruction take you!" said the goblin, "there is not one carcass of you all better than the rest; you are all polluted with radical sin from adam. but, sir," said he, "if your blood be better than other blood, less scum will exude from you when boiling; however, in order to be sure of its quality, it will be as well to search you with fire as well as water." thereupon a devil in the shape of a chariot of fire received him, and the other in mockery lifted him into it, and away he was hurried like lightning. after a short time the angel caused me to look, and i could see the wretched knight suffering a terrible steeping in a frightful boiling furnace, in company with cain, nimrod, esau, tarquin, nero, caligula, and the others who were the founders of genealogies, and were the first to set up arms of nobility. a little farther on, my guide caused me to look through the hollow of a rock, and there i beheld a number of coquettes briskly at work, doing and repeating all their former follies upon earth. some were twisting their mouths, some were pulling their front locks with irons, some were painting themselves, some patching their faces with sooty ointments, to make the yellow look more fair; some quite mad at seeing their visages, after all their pains in coloring and variegating, more hideous than those of the very devils, were endeavouring to break the mirrors, or were tearing off with their nails and their teeth the whole artificial blush--the ointments, skin, and flesh coming off all together. the cries which they uttered occasionally were most dismal. "the curse of curses," would one say, "on my father, for making me marry when a girl, an old sapless stump, whose work in raising desires which he could not gratify has driven me hither." "a thousand curses on my parents," would another say, "for sending me to a cloister to learn chastity; they would not have done worse in sending me to a roundhead to learn generosity, or to a quaker to learn manners, than to a papist to learn honor." "destruction," said another, "seize my mother for her avaricious pride in preventing my obtaining a husband when i wanted one, and thus obliging me to purloin the thing i might have honorably come by." "hell, and double hell to the lustful wretch of a gentleman, who first began tempting me," would the third say; "if he had not, betwixt fair and foul, broken the hedge, i had not become a cell open to every body, nor had i come to this cell of devils!" and then they fell to tearing themselves again. i was glad to quit such a pack of female dogs. but before i had passed on many steps, i was surprised to see another shoal of imprisoned wenches, twice more detestable than they. some had been changed into toads, some into dragons, some into serpents who were swimming and hissing, glavering and butting in a fetid, stagnant pool, much larger than llyn tegid. {84} "in the name of wonder," said i, "what sort of creatures may these be?" "there are here," said he, "four sorts of wenches, all notoriously bad. first, there are procuresses, with some of the principal lasses of their respective bevies about them. second, gossiping ladies with a swarm of their news-bearing hags. third, bouncing madams, and a pack of sneaking curs on both sides of them, for no man, but for downright fear of them, would ever go nigh them. fourth, scolds, become a hundred times more horrible than vipers, with their poisonous stings going creak, creak to all eternity." "i had imagined that lucifer had been a king of too much courtesy, to put a gentlewoman of my rank with such little petty she-devils as these," said one, something like a winged serpent, only that she was much more fierce. "o that he would send here, seven hundred of the worst devils in hell in exchange for thee, thou poisonous hell-spawn!" said another ugly viper. "o! many thanks to you," said a gigantic devil who overheard them, "we set too much value on our place and merits, to condescend to become mates of yours; and though we are willing to admit that you are fully as competent to torment people as the best of us, we would, nevertheless, not yield up our duties to you." "and yet," said the angel softly, "lucifer has another reason for keeping such a particular watch over these; he knows well, that if they should break out, they would turn all hell topsy-turvy." from here we went, still going downward, to a place where i beheld a frightful den, in which was a horrible clamour, the like of which i had never heard, for swearing, cursing, blaspheming, snarling, groaning, and crying. "who is here?" said i. "this," said he, "is the den of the thieves. here is a swarm of game-keepers, lawyers, stewards, and the old judas in the midst of them; they have been excessively annoyed at seeing the tailors and weavers above them, in a more comfortable chamber." almost before i could turn myself, there came a horse of a devil, bearing a physician and an apothecary, whom he cast down amongst the pedlars and the duffers, for selling bad, rotten ware; but they beginning to fume at being placed in such low company, one of the devils said, "stay, stay! you _do_ deserve a different place," and cast them down amongst the conquerors and the murderers. there was a multitude shut up here, for playing with false dice and concealing cards; but before i could observe much, i heard, close by the door, a terrible rush and rustle, with a hie! hie! get on! ho! yo! hip! i turned to see what it was; but perceiving nothing but horned goblins, i enquired of my guide whether there were cuckolds amongst the devils? "no," said he, "they are in a particular cell. these are drovers who would fain escape to the place of the sabbath-breakers, and are driven hither against their will." at that word, i looked, and perceived their polls full of the horns of sheep and cattle, and those who drove them, casting them down beneath the feet of the bloodiest robbers. "crouch there," said one; "though you feared so much of old the thieves on london road, you were yourselves the very worst species of highwaymen, living upon the road and plundering, yes, and murdering poor families. o how many poor creatures did you not keep, with their hungry mouths open, in vain expectation of the money for the sale of the beasts, which they had intrusted to you; and you in the mean time in ireland, or in the king's bench laughing at them, or upon the road in the midst of your wine and harlots." on quitting this den of furious heat, i got a sight of a lair, exceeding all the rest i had seen in hell, but one, in frightful stinking filthiness, where was a herd of accursed drunken swine, disgorging and swallowing, swallowing and disgorging, continually and without rest, the most loathsome snivel. the next pit was the couch of gluttony, where dives and his companions were upon their bellies, eating dirt and fire alternately, without any liquid ever. a cave or two lower there was an exceedingly spacious kitchen, in which some were in a state of roasting and boiling, others frying and burning in an oven half heated. "behold the place of the merciless and the unfeeling," said the angel. i then turned a little to the left hand, where there was a cell more light than any one which i had yet seen in hell, and enquired what place it was? "the abode of the infernal dragons," replied the angel, "who are hissing and snarling, rushing and preying upon one another every minute." i approached; and oh! the look which cannot be described was upon them, the whole light was but the living fire in their eyes. "these are the seed of adam," said my guide, "morose wretches, and furious savage men; but, yonder," said he, "are some of the old seed of the great dragon lucifer;" and verily, i could perceive not a whit more amiability in the one sort than in the other. in the next cellar were the misers, in a state of horrible agony with their hearts cleaving to coffers of burning treasure, the rust whereof was ceaselessly cankering them, because those hearts had been ceaselessly bent upon getting money--o the consuming torment, worse than frenzy, that was now going on within them, with care and repentance. below this there was a hanging ledge, where there were some apothecaries ground to dust, and stuffed into earthen pots amongst album grecum, dung of geese and swine, and many an old stinking ointment. we were now journeying forward, continually descending, along the wilderness of destruction, through innumerable torments, eternal and not to be described--from cell to cell, from cellar to cellar, and the last always surpassing the others in horror and ghastliness; at last we arrived at a vast porch, more cheerless than any thing we had seen before. it was a very spacious porch, and the pathway through it, which was frightfully steep, led to a kind of dusky nook of incredible ugliness and horror, and there the palace was. at the upper end of the accursed court, among thousands of horrible objects, i could, by means of the radiance of my heavenly companion, perceive amidst the dreary darkness two feet of enormous magnitude, reaching to the roof of the whole infernal firmament. i enquired of my conductor what this horrible thing might be? "patience," said he, "you shall obtain a more ample view of this monster as you return; but move forward now to see the royal palace." whilst we were proceeding down the porch of horror, we heard a noise behind us, as of an immense number of people. having turned aside to let them pass forward, we beheld four distinct bands, and soon discovered that the four princesses of the city of destruction, were bringing their subjects as presents to their father. i recognised the princess pride, not only by her being before the others, but also by her habit of stumbling every moment, for want of looking beneath her feet. she had with her a vast many kings, potentates, courtiers, gentlemen, and pompous people, many quakers, innumerable females of every rank and degree. the princess lucre was next, with her silly, mean figure, bringing along with her very many of the money loving race--such as usurers, lawyers, extortioners, overseers, game-keepers, harlots, and some ecclesiastics also. next to these was the amiable princess pleasure and her daughter folly, conducting their subjects--consisting of players at dice, cards, draughts, games of legerdemain, and of poets, musicians, tellers of old stories, drunkards, ladies of pleasure, debauches, pretty fellows, with a thousand million of all kinds of baubles, to serve now as instruments of punishment for the lost fools. after these three had gone with their prisoners to the palace, to receive their judgment--behold hypocrisy, the last of all, conducting a more numerous rout than any of the others, of all nations and ages, of town and country, gentle and simple, males and females. at the tail of the two-faced multitudes we advanced till we came in sight of the palace, through many dragons and horned sprites, and warriors of hell, the black wardens of the gloomy pandemonium, i all the time crouching very carefully within my veil. we entered the frightful and awful edifice, every corner of which abounded with horror. the walls were immense rocks of glowing adamant, the pavement of an insufferably sharp flint, the roof of burning steel, meeting like an arch of greenishblue and dusky-red flames, and in its size and its heat, resembling an immense vaulted baking oven. opposite to the door, on a flaming throne, the arch-fiend was seated, his principal lost angels on both sides of him, on thrones of fire terrible to behold--sitting according to their former rank in the regions of light, when they were amiable messengers. it would only be in vain to endeavour to relate how obscene and horrible they were; and the longer i looked at any one of them, seven times more hideous he appeared. in the midst, above the head of lucifer, was a vast fist, holding a very frightful bolt. the princesses, after making their obeisance, returned to the world to their charges, without making any stay. as soon as they had departed, a gigantic, wide-mouthed devil, by command of the king, uttered a shout louder than a hundred discharges of artillery, as loud if possible as the last trumpet, for the purpose of summoning the infernal parliament. and lo! the rabble of hell instantly filled the palace and the porch in every shape, after the image and similitude of the principal sin, which each delighted to thrust upon mankind. after commanding silence, lucifer, with his look directed to the potentates nearest to him, began to speak, very graciously, in the following manner:-"ye potentates of hell! princes of the black abodes of despair! though by our confederacy we have lost possession of those thrones, from which we once shone resplendent through the higher regions; our confederacy was, nevertheless, a glorious one, as we aimed at nothing less than the whole. and we have not lost the whole either; for lo! the extensive and profound regions, to the extremest wilds of vast destruction, are yet beneath our sway. it is true we reign in horrible agony; but spirits of our eminence prefer ruling in torment to serving in ease. and besides this, we are on the eve of obtaining another world, more than three parts of the earth having been beneath my banner for a long time. "and although the almighty enemy, sent his own son to die for the beings of that world; yet i, by my baubles, obtain ten souls, for every one which he obtains by his crucified son. and although i have not been able to reach him, who sits in the high places and discharges the invincible thunderbolts, yet revenge of some kind is sweet. let us complete the destruction of the remnant of human beings, still in the favour of our destroyer. i remember the time, when you caused them to be burnt by multitudes and cities, and even the whole race of the earth, by means of the flood, to be swept down to us in the fire. but at present, though your strength and your natural cruelty are not a whit diminished, yet you are become in some degree inactive; if that had not been the case, we might long since have destroyed the few who are godly, and have caused the earth to be united with this our vast empire. but know, ye black ministers of my displeasure, that unless ye be more resolute and more diligent, and make the most of the short time which yet remains to you for doing evil, ye shall experience the weight of my anger, in torments new and strange to the oldest of you. this i swear by the deepest hell, and the vast, eternal pit of darkness." and, thereupon, he frowned, till the palace became seven times more gloomy than before. moloch now arose, one of the infernal potentates, and after making his obeisance to the king, he said, "o emperor of the air! mighty ruler of darkness! no one ever doubted my propensity to malice and cruelty; the sufferings of others have been, and still are, my supreme delight. it is as capital sport to me, to hear the shrieks of infants perishing in the fire as of old, when thousands of sucklings were sacrificed to me outside of jerusalem. when was i ever slack at my work? since the return of the crucified enemy to the supreme abodes, i have employed myself in slaying and burning his subjects. i did all i could, to destroy the christians from the face of the earth, during the reigns of ten emperors; and many an awful butchery i have made of them in modern times, both in paris and england, to say nothing of other places: but what are we the nearer to our object for all this? the one above has caused the tree to grow, after its branches have been severed; and all our efforts, are nothing better than showing one's teeth, without the power of biting." "pshaw!" said lucifer, "a fig for such heartless legions as ye. i will no longer rely upon you! i will do the work myself, and the glory thereof i will share with no one. i will go to the earth in my own kingly person, and will swallow up the whole; not one man, henceforth, shall be found on the earth to adore the almighty." thereupon he gave a furious bound, attempting to set off, in a firmament of living fire; but, behold! the fist above his head shook the terrific bolt till he trembled in the midst of his frenzy, and before he could move far, an invisible hand lugged the old fox back by his chain, in spite of his teeth. whereupon he became seven times more frantic; his eyes were more terrible than lightnings, black thick smoke burst from his nostrils, and dark green flames from his mouth and entrails: he gnawed his chain in his agony, and hissed forth direful blasphemy, and the most frightful curses. but perceiving how vain it was to seek to break loose, or to struggle with the almighty, he returned to his place and proceeded with his discourse somewhat more calmly, but with ten times more malice. "the omnipotent thunderer has vanquished me, and he alone could have done so. to him i submit. against him all my fury is in vain; i will, therefore, direct it against nearer and lower objects, and pour it in showers upon those who are yet under my banner, and within the reach of my chain. arise, ye ministers of destruction! rulers of the unquenchable fire! and as my wrath and my venom flow forth and my malice boileth out, do ye assiduously spread the whole tide amongst the damned, particularly the christians. urge the instruments of torture to the utmost--devise as many more as you can--double the fire and the boiling, until the very cauldrons be overturned; and when they are in the most extreme, inexpressible torture, mock, deride, and upbraid them; and when your whole stock of ironry and bitterness is expended, hasten to me, and you shall obtain more." there had been for some time a comparative silence in hell, and the more cruel tortures had been suspended; but now the stillness which lucifer had caused was broken, when the ghastly butchers rushed like wild hungry bears upon their prisoners. o then there arose an oh! oh! oh! a wail, and universal howling, more loud than the sound of cataracts, or the tumult of an earthquake, so that hell became seven times more frightful. i should have swooned if my dear companion had not rendered me assistance. "take now," said he, "plenty of the water, that you may obtain strength to see things yet more horrible than these." but scarcely had these words proceeded from his mouth, when, lo! the celestial justice, who sits above the precipice keeping the gate of hell, came scourging three men with a rod of fiery scorpions. "ha! ha!" said lucifer, "here are three right reverend gentlemen, whom justice himself has deigned to conduct to my kingdom." "oh! woe is me," said one of the three, "who asked him to trouble himself?" "be it known," said justice, with a glance which made the devils tremble till they knocked one against another, "that it is the will of the great creator, that i should myself bring these three accursed murderers to their home. sirrah," said he to one of the devils, "unbolt for me the prison of the murderers, where are cain and nero, bonner, bradshaw, ignatius, and innumerable others of a similar description." "alas, alas! we never killed any body," said one of the prisoners. "no, because you did not get time and because you were prevented," said justice. when the den was opened, there came out such a horrible puff of bloody flame, and such a yell as if a thousand dragons were giving their last gasp in their death agony. into this den justice hurled his prisoners; {93} and on his way back he breathed obliquely, such a tempest of fiery whirlwinds upon the arch-fiend and all his potentates, as he passed by them, that lucifer, beelzebub, satan, moloch, abaddon, asmodeus, dagon, apollyon, belphegor, mephistophiles, and all the other principal demons were whisked away, and tumbled headlong into a kind of gulf, which was opening and closing in the midst of the palace, and whose aspect was more horrible, and whose steam was more frightful than the aspect and vapour of any gulf which i had previously seen. before i could enquire of the angel as to what it was, he said, "that is a hole which leads to another vast world." "pray," said i, "what is the name of that world?" "it is called," said he, "unknown, or extremest hell, the habitation of the devils, and the place to which they are at present gone. the vast wilderness, over part of which you have come, is called the country of despair, a place intended for the lost until the day of judgment, when it will fall into extremest, bottomless hell, and the two will become one. when that has happened one of ourselves will come and close the gate of the whole region of horror upon the devils and the damned, which gate shall never, to all eternity, be opened for them. in the meantime, however, permission is given to the devils to come to these cooler regions, in order to torment the lost souls. yea, they often obtain permission to go even into the air, and about the earth, to tempt men to the destructive paths, which lead to this dismal prison, from which there is no escape." in the midst of this history, and whilst i was in great surprise at seeing the mouth of unknown, so much surpassing in horror the jaws of upper hell, i could hear a prodigious noise of arms, and loud discharges from one side, answered by what seemed to be hoarse thunders from the other; the rocks of death, meanwhile, rebellowing the tumult. "that is the sound of war," said i. "is there war then in hell?" "there is," said the angel; "and it is impossible that there should not be here continual war." whilst we were moving out, to see what was the matter, i beheld the mouth of unknown opening, and casting up thousands of candles, burning with a frightful green flame. these were lucifer and his potentates, who had contrived to subdue the tempest. but when the arch fiend heard the noise of war, he became more pale than death, and began to call and gather together bands of his old experienced soldiers to quell the tumult. at this moment he stumbled against a little puppy of an imp, who had escaped between the feet of the combatants. "what is the matter?" said the king. "such a matter as will endanger your crown, unless you look to yourself," said the imp. close behind him came another fiendish courier, bawling hoarsely, "you are plotting disquiet for others, look now to your own repose. yonder are the turks, the papists, and the bloody-handed roundheads, in three bands, filling all the plains of the dark abodes, committing terrible outrages, and turning every thing topsy-turvy." "how came they out?" said the arch fiend, looking worse than demigorgon. "the papists," said the messenger, "broke out of their purgatory, i do not know how; and then on account of an old grudge, they went to attack the back gate of the paradise of mahomet, and let all the turks out of their prison; and afterwards, in the hubbub, the seed of cromwell found some means to break out of their cells." then lucifer turned about and looked under his throne, where were all the lost kings, and caused cromwell to be kept close in his kennel; and likewise all the emperors of the turks, under watch and ward. he then hastened with his legions along the black wilds of darkness, each obtaining light from the fire which was incessantly tormenting his body. guided by the horrid uproar, the fiends advanced courageously towards the combatants; then silence was enjoined in the name of the king, and lucifer enquired, "what is the cause of this disturbance in my kingdom?" "please, your infernal majesty," said mahomet, "a dispute arose between me and pope leo, as to whether my koran or the creed of rome, had rendered you most service; and whilst we were at it, a pack of roundheads broke their prison and put in their oar; asserting that their league and covenant, deserved more respect at your hands than either. thus from disputing we have come to blows, and from words to arms. but at present, as your majesty has returned from unknown, i will refer the matter to yourself." "stay, we shall not let you escape thus!" said pope julius; and to it again they went, tooth and nail, in the most furious manner, till the strokes were like an earthquake. o you should have seen the three armies of the damned, tearing one another to pieces over the expanse of the burning plains; and each individual body that was rent to pieces, becoming joined again serpent fashion. at last lucifer caused his old soldiers, the champions of hell, to pull them from each other, and it was no easy matter to do so. when the tumult was hushed, pope clement began to speak. "o emperor of horrors! as no throne has ever performed more faithful and universal service to the infernal crown, over a great part of the world, for eleven hundred years, than the papal chair, i hope you will not suffer any one to contend with us for your favour." "well," said a scott of cromwell's army, "though the koran has done great service for eight hundred years, and the superstition of the pope for a much longer period, yet has the covenant done more since it came out, than the other two have ever done. moreover it is notorious that, whilst the votaries of those two are every day rapidly diminishing, the followers of the covenant are increasing in numbers, over the whole face of the world, and particularly in the island of your enemies britain, whose capital, london, the most noble city under the sun, abounds with them." "pshaw, pshaw!" said lucifer, "if i am rightly informed, the covenant itself is under a cloud, and you are no longer what you were. and now i have one thing to tell the whole of you--which is, that, whatever ye may do in other kingdoms, i will not permit you to trouble mine. therefore rest peaceably, under penalty of worse torments corporeal and spiritual." at those words many of the devils dropped their tails between their hoofs, and all the damned sneaked away to their holes, for fear of a change for the worse. after causing the whole of them to be locked up in their prisons, and the careless wardens to be deprived of their office, for having permitted them to break out, lucifer and his counsellors returned to the palace, and sat down again, according to their rank, upon their fiery thrones. after silence had been called and the place cleared, a huge, wry-shouldered devil, placed a back-load of fresh prisoners before the bar. "is this the road to paradise," said one, (for they all pretended not to know where they were.) "or if this be purgatory," said another, "we have with us an authority, under the hand of the pope, to go straight to paradise without tarrying any where a minute. therefore show us the way, or, by the pope's toe, we will cause him to punish you." ha! ha! ha!--ho! ho! ho! said eight hundred devils; and lucifer himself, parted his jaws half a yard in a kind of bitter laugh. the others were confounded at this; but one said, "well, if we have lost our way in the darkness, we would pay any one who would guide us." "ha! ha!" said lucifer, "you will pay the last farthing before ye go." thereupon each fell to searching for his money, but found, to his sorrow, that he had left his breeches behind him. quoth the arch fiend, "you left paradise on the left hand, above the lofty mountains; and, notwithstanding, it was so easy to come down here, it is next to impossible to go back, owing to the nature of the country, through which the road back lies. for it is a country abounding with mountains of burning iron, immense dismal crags, sheets of eternal ice, and roaring, headlong cataracts; a country, in short, far too difficult for you to travel, unless indeed you have talons of the true devilish length. come, come," said he to his myrmidons, "take these blockheads to our paradise, to their companions." at this moment i could hear the voice of some people who were coming, swearing and cursing in a frightful manner. "o the devil! the blood of the devil! a hundred thousand devils! a thousand million devils take me if i will go farther!" but, nevertheless, they were cast slap down before the judge. "here you have," said the carrier, "a load of as good fire wood as the best in hell." "what are they?" said lucifer. "masters of the genteel art of cursing and swearing," replied the devil; "men who understand the language of hell quite as well as ourselves." "you lie in your mouth, by the devil!" said one of them. "sirrah! do you take my name in vain?" said the arch fiend. "quick! and hang them by their tongues to the burning precipice yonder, and if they call for the devil, be ready to serve them; yea, if they call for a thousand, let them be satisfied." when these were gone, lo! a giant of a devil vociferated to have the bar cleared, and flung down a man whom he bore. "what have you brought there?" said lucifer. "a tavern-keeper," replied the other. "what," said the king, "_one_ tavern-keeper! why they are in the habit of coming to the tune of five or six thousand. have you not been out, sirrah, for ten years, and yet you bring us but one? and he one who has done us much more service in the world than yourself, you lazy, stinking dog!" "you are too ready to condemn me, before listening to me," he replied. "this fellow only was given to my charge, and, behold! i am clear of him. but still i have sent to you from his house, many a worthless chap, after guzzling down the maintenance of his family; many a dicer and card-player; many a genteel swearer; many a pleasant, good kind of belly god; and many a careless servant." "well," said the arch fiend, "though the tavern-keeper has merited to be amongst the flatterers below us, take him at present to his brethren, in the cell of the liquid murderers; to the thousands of apothecaries and poisoners, who are there for making drink to kill their customers--boil him well for not having brewed better ale." "with your permission," said the tavern-keeper shivering, "i have deserved no such treatment. must not every trade live?" "and could you not live," said the fiend, "without encouraging dissipation and gaming, uncleanness, drunkenness, oaths, quarrels, slander and lies? and would you, hell-hound, live at present better than ourselves! pray what evil have we here that you had not at home, the punishment solely excepted? and having told you this bitter truth, i will add, that the infernal heat and cold were not unknown to you either. "did you not see sparks of our fire in the tongues of the swearers and of the scolds, when seeking to get their husbands home? was there not plenty of the unquenchable fire in the mouth of the drunkard, and in the eyes of the brawler? and could you not perceive something of the infernal cold in the lovingness of the spendthrift, and in your own civility to your customers, whilst any thing remained with them--in the drollery of the buffoons, in the praise of the envious and the backbiter, in the promises of the wanton, or in the shanks of the good companions freezing beneath your tables? art thou unacquainted with hell, when the house thou didst keep was hell? go, hell-dog, to thy punishment." at this moment appeared ten devils with their burdens, which they cast upon the fiery floor, puffing terribly. "what have you there?" said lucifer. "we have brought," said one of the fiendish carriers, "five things which were called kings the day before yesterday." (i looked attentively and beheld in one of them old louis of france.) "fling them here," said the king; whereupon they were flung to the other crowned heads, under the feet of lucifer. it was not long before i heard the sound of a brazen trumpet, and a crying of room! room! room! after waiting a little time, what should be coming but a drove of sessions folk, the devils carrying six lumps of justices and a thousand of their fry--consisting of lawyers, attornies, clerks, recorders, bailiffs, catchpoles, and pettifoggers of the courts. i was surprised that none of them attempted to cross-question; but they perceived that the matter was gone against them too far, and so, not one of these learned disputers opened his mouth; only a pettifogger of the courts said, that he would lay a plaint of false imprisonment against lucifer. "you shall now have cause enough to complain," said the fiend, "and yet never have an opportunity of seeing a court with your eyes." then, putting on his red cap, lucifer, with an arrogant, insufferable look, said, "take the justices to the dungeon of pontius pilate and mr. bradshaw, who condemned king charles. parch the lawyers in company with the murderers of sir edmund bury godfrey, {100} and their double-tongued brethren, who dispute with one another, for no other purpose than to be the ruin of any one who comes betwixt them. let them greet that provident lawyer--for they will find him here--who offered on his death bed a thousand pounds for a clear conscience. let them greet him, and ask, whether he is now willing to give any thing more. roast them with their own parchment and papers; hang the pettifoggers above them, with their nostrils downwards, in the roasting chimneys, to receive the smoke, and to see whether they can get their belly-full of law. as for the recorders, let them be cast among the forestallers, who detain the corn or buy it up and mix it, and then sell the unsound for double the price of the pure corn; just as the former demand double the fees for _wrong_, which were formerly given for _right_. as for the catchpoles, leave them at liberty to hunt vermin; or send them to the world, among the dingles and brakes, to seize the debtors of the infernal crown--for what devil among you will do the work better than they?" at this moment twenty devils with packs on their shoulders, like scotchmen, mounted before the throne of despair, and what had they got, on enquiry, but gipsies. "ho!" said lucifer, "how did ye know the fortunes of others so well, without knowing that your own fortune was leading ye to this prison." but the gipsies said not a word in reply, being confounded at beholding faces here more ugly than their own. "hurl them into our deepest dungeon," said lucifer, to the fiends, "and don't starve them; we have here neither cats nor rush-lights to give them, but let them have a toad between them, every ten thousand years, provided they are quiet, and do not deafen us with their gibberish and clibberty clabber." next to these there came, i should imagine, about thirty husbandmen. every one was surprised to see so many of them, people of their honest calling seldom coming to hell; but they were not from the same neighbourhood, nor for the same offences. some were for raising the markets; many for refusing to pay tithes, and cheating the minister of his rights; others for leaving their work, to follow gentry a hunting, and breaking their legs in endeavouring to leap with them; some for working on sundays; some for carrying their sheep and cattle, in their heads to church, instead of musing on the word; others for roguish bargains. when lucifer began to question them, oh! they were all as pure as gold; none was aware of having committed any thing which deserved such a lot. you will not believe what a crafty excuse every one had to conceal his fault, notwithstanding he was in hell on account of it, and this was only done out of malice, to thwart lucifer and to endeavour to make the righteous judge, who had damned them appear unjust. but you would have been yet more surprised at the dexterity with which the arch fiend laid bare their crimes, and answered their vain excuses home. but when these were receiving the last infernal sentence, there came forty scholars before the court, mounted on capering devils, more ugly, if possible, than lucifer himself. and when the scholars heard the husbandmen arguing, they began to excuse themselves the more confidently. but, oh! how ready the old serpent was at answering them too, notwithstanding their craft, and their learning. but as it was my fortune to hear similar disputations at another tribunal, i will there give the history of the whole, in one mass; and will at present relate to you what i next saw. scarcely had lucifer uttered judgment upon these people, and sent them, for the cool impertinence of their reasons, to the vast sheet, in the country of the eternal ice, the teeth of the wretches beginning to chatter before they saw their prison, when hell began once more, to resound awfully with terrible blows, harsh blustering thunders, and every sound of war. i could see lucifer turn black, and become like a statue; at this moment, in rushed a little crooked, horned devil, panting and shivering. "what is the matter?" said lucifer. "the most perilous to you of all matters since hell has been hell," said the imp; "all the extremes of the kingdom of darkness, have broken out against you, and against one another; particularly those who had any old field in common. they are now at it, tooth and nail, so that it is impossible to tear them from each other. "the soldiers are at loggerheads with the physicians, for carrying on their trade of slaughter; there is a swarm of usurers at loggerheads with the lawyers, for seeking to spoil their trade; the jurymen and the duffers are pummelling the gentlemen, for swearing and cursing without necessity; whereas, swearing and cursing formed part of their trade; the harlots, and their associates, and millions of other old friends and acquaintances, have fallen out, and are all in shatters. "but worse than all, is the contest between the old misers and their own children, for dissipating their wealth and their money. 'our property,' say the pigtails, 'cost us much pain, whilst we were upon the earth, and is causing us immense suffering _here_ for ever, yet ye have flung it all away at ducks and drakes.' and the children, on the other hand, are cursing and tearing the old skin-flints, most furiously, charging their fathers with being the authors of their misery, by leaving them twenty times _too much_, to distract them with pride and dissipation; whereas, a _little_, with a blessing, might have made them happy in both their states of existence." "well," said lucifer, "enough! enough! we have more need of arms than words. sirrah, this hubbub is owing to some great neglect; go back, and pry into every watch, and discover who has been neglectful; and what dangerous characters have been permitted to escape, for there are some evils abroad, that are not known." away he went, at the word, and in the meanwhile, lucifer and his potentates arose in terror, and exceeding consternation, and caused the boldest bands of the black angels to be assembled. when these were marshalled, he put himself at the head of his own peculiar band, and marched forth to quell the insurrection, whilst the potentates went other ways with their legions. before the royal troop had gone any great distance, gleaming like the lightning of the black abodes, (and we behind them,) behold the hubbub advanced to meet them. "silence, in the name of the king," said a fiendish herald. there was no hearing; it was easier to tear the old crocodile from his prey than one of these. but when the old tried soldiers of lucifer broke into the midst of them, the buzzing, the butting, and the blows began to slacken. "silence, in the name of lucifer," said the hoarse cryer again. "what is the matter?" said the king; "and who are these?" "there is nothing particularly the matter," was the answer; "but the drovers, happening in the general commotion to come in contact with the cuckolds, they went mutually to butting, to try whose horns were hardest; and this butting might have gone on for ever, if your horned champions had not interfered." "well," said lucifer, "since you are all so ready with your arms, turn along with me to quell other rioters." but when it was buzzed about among the other rebels, that lucifer was coming with three horned legions against them, each slunk away to his lair. thus lucifer advanced without opposition, along the wildernesses of destruction, endeavouring to ascertain what was the commencement of the disturbance, but could obtain no information. after a little time, however, one of the spies of the king returned, quite out of breath. "o most noble lucifer!" said he, "prince moloch has quieted part of the north and has scattered thousands over the sheets of ice; but three or four terrible evils are still out on the wind." "who are they?" said lucifer. "_slanderer_, and _meddler_, and _litigious pettifogger_," said he, "have broken their prisons and are at liberty." "then it would be no wonder," said the arch fiend, "if there should be yet more disturbance." at this moment there came another, who had been on the look-out towards the south, with the information that the evil had begun to break out there; but that three had been taken, who had previously turned every thing topsy-turvy in the west, and these three were _madam bouncer_, _contriver_, and_ coxcomb_. "well," said satan, who was standing next but one to lucifer, "since i tempted adam from his garden, i have never yet seen from his seed, so many evils out upon one piece of business. "bouncer, coxcomb, and contriver on the one side," he added, "and on the other slanderer, pettifogger, and meddler are a compound, enough to make a thousand devils sweat their bowels out." "it is no wonder," said lucifer, "that they are so detested by every body on earth, when they are able to cause us so much trouble here." a little farther on, a great bouncing lady struck against the king, as she was moving backwards. "ho! my aunt of the breeches," said a hoarse devil, "good night to you." "yes, your aunt, indeed! on what side pray?" said she, very wrathful, because she was not called madam. "a pretty king are you, sir lucifer," said she, "to keep such unmannerly blockheads; it is a sin that so large a kingdom should be under one so incompetent to govern them. o that i were made deputy over it!" at this moment behold the _coxcomb_, nodding his head in the dark, "your servant, sir," he would say to one over his shoulder.--"i hope you are quite well," said he to another.--"is there any service which i can render you," to a third, smiling conceitedly.--"your beauty ravishes my heart," said he to the bouncing wench. "oh! oh! away with this hell-dog," said she; whilst every one cried, "away with this new tormentor! hell upon hell is he!" "bind him and her head to tail," said lucifer. after a little time, behold _courts comprised_ held betwixt two devils. "o ho! angel of patience," said lucifer, "are you come? hold him fast on your peril," said he to the satellites. before we had advanced far, there came the _contriver_ and the _slanderer_ bound betwixt forty devils, and whispering in each others ears. "o most mighty lucifer!" said the _contriver_, "i am exceedingly grieved to see so much disturbance in your dominions, but i will teach you a way to prevent such in future, if you will but grant me a hearing. you only need, under pretence of a general parliament, to summon all the damned to the glowing pandemonium, and then cause the devils to cast them headlong into the throat of _unknown_, and the gulf to be closed over them, and then, i warrant you, they will give you no more trouble." "see," said lucifer, frowning very horribly on the _contriver_, "the universal meddler is still behind." on returning again to the porch of the infernal palace, who should come with the fairest face imaginable to meet the king but the _meddler_. "o my liege," said he, "i have a word for you." "perhaps i have one or two for you," said the fiend. "i have been," continued the meddler, "over half _destruction_, to observe how your affairs are standing. you have many officers in the east doing nothing at all; but sitting still instead of looking to the torments of their prisoners, or keeping guard over them, and this has been the cause of all this great disturbance. besides," said he, "many of your devils, and your damned too, whom you dispatched to the world to tempt folks, are not returned, though their time is out; and others have arrived in a sculking manner, and not given an account of their errands." then lucifer caused the herald to proclaim another parliament; and lo! before you could turn your hand, all the potentates and satellites were met together, to hold the infernal sessions again. the first thing which was done was to change the officers, and to cause a place to be made about the throat of unknown, for the reception of the coxcomb, the bouncing lady, and the rest; the two first were tied nose to nose, and the other rioters tail to tail. then a law was promulgated, that whoever should henceforth neglect his duty, whether imp or lost man, should be cast there among them until the day of judgment. at these words you might see all the goblins--yea, lucifer himself--tremble and look agitated. the next thing was to call some devils and some damned to reckoning, who had been sent to the world to hunt up recruits: the devils gave a very good account of themselves; but some of the damned were lame in their reckoning, and were sent to the hot school, where they were scourged with twisted fiery serpents, for not learning their lesson better. "hear my complaint," said a little informing devil. "here is a pretty woman when trimmed out, who was sent up to the world, to hunt subjects for you by means of their hearts; and to whom did she offer herself, but to a hard-working labourer coming home late from his occupation, who instead of enjoying himself with her, went upon his knees to pray against the devil and his angels: at another time, she went to a sick man." "ha!" said lucifer, "cast her to that lost useless wench, who loved of yore einion ab gwalehmai, {108} of anglesey." "stay," said the fair one, "this is but the first offence. it is not yet above a year, since the day when i breathed my last, and was damned to your accursed government." "she speaks true, o king of torments! it is not yet a year by three weeks," said the devil who had brought her there. "therefore," said she, "how would you have me so well versed as the damned, who have been here for three hundred, or out abroad depredating for five hundred years. if you desire from me better service, let me go into the world another time or two unchastised; and if i do not bring you twenty harlot-mongers, for every year that i am out, inflict upon me whatever punishment you please." but the verdict went against her, and she was condemned to punishment for a hundred long years, that she might remember better the second time. at this moment, behold another devil pushing a fellow forward. "here you have," said he, "a pretty dog of a messenger. as he was prowling about his old neighbourhood, above stairs, the other night, he saw a thief going to steal a stallion, and could not so much as help him to catch the horse without showing himself, frightening the thief so by his horrible appearance, that he took warning and became an honest man from that time." "with the permission of the court," said the fellow, "if the thief had got the gift from _above_ to see me, could i help it? but at worst this is a single peccadillo," said he; "it is not above a hundred years since the day which terminated my mortal career, yet how many of my friends and neighbours have i not tempted hither after me, during that time? may i be in the deepest pit, if i have not as much inclination for the trade as the best of you; but now and then the craftiest will err." "here," said lucifer, "cast him to the school of the fairies, who are yet under the rod for their mischievous conduct of old, in strangling some people and threatening others; startling by such behaviour their neighbours from their heedlessness, upon whom the terror which they caused, had probably more effect than twenty sermons would have had." next appeared four catchpoles, an informer, and fifteen damned, hauling two _devils_ forward. "see," said the informer, "lest you should lay the blame of all that is mismanaged on the seed of adam, we bring you two of your old angels, who have spent their time above, quite as badly as the two preceding. here is a fellow who has been making as great a fool of himself, as the devil did at shrewsbury the other day; who, in the midst of the interlude of doctor faustus, whilst some, according to the custom on such occasions, were committing adultery with their eyes, some with their hands, others making assignations for the same purpose, and doing various other things profitable to your kingdom, made his appearance to play his own part; by which blunder, he drove every one from taking his pleasure to praying. in like manner did this numskull act; for, whilst journeying over the world, on hearing two wenches talking of walking round the church at night, in order to see their sweethearts, he must needs show himself in the figure he wears at home, to the two fools, who on recovering their senses, which at first they lost from fright, solemnly abjured all frivolity for ever. there's a ninny-hammer for you! instead of appearing like a devil, he ought to have divided himself and assumed the forms of two dirty, unlicked boors; for the girls would have imagined themselves bound to accept them, and then the filthy goblin might have lived as husband with the two female parties, without troubling a clergyman to perform the marriage. "and here is another," said he, "who went the last dark night, to visit two young maidens in wales, who were _turning the shift_; and instead of enticing the girls to wantonness in the figure of a handsome youth, he must needs go to one with a _hearse_ to sober her; and to the other with the _sound of war_ in an infernal whirlwind, to drive her farther from her senses than she was before, and there was no need for that. but this is not the whole, for after going into the last girl, he cast her down and tormented her furiously, so that her parents in horror, sent for some of our enemies the clergy, to pray over her and cast him out, which they did. now, if he had been wise, instead of kicking up such a hubbub, he would have tempted her quietly to despair, and to make away with herself. on another time, wishing to gain some of the conventiclers, he went to preach to them, and revealed the secrets of your kingdom; thus, instead of hindering, assisting their salvation." at the word _salvation_, i could see some emitting living fire for madness. "capital stories both, i won't deny," said the goblin; "but i hope that lucifer will not permit one of adam's race of dirt, to put himself on an equality with me who am an angel, of a species and descent far superior." "ha!" said lucifer, "he may be sure of his punishment. but, sirrah, answer to these accusations speedily and clearly, or by hopeless destruction i will--" "i have brought hither," said the goblin, "many a soul since satan was in the garden of eden, and ought to know my trade better than this novice of an informer." "blood of an infernal fire-brand!" said lucifer, "did i not command you to answer speedily and clearly." "do but hear me," said the sprite. "as to preaching, by your own command i have been a hundred times _preaching_, and have forbidden people to follow several of the roads which lead to your territories, and yet silently, in the same breath, have led them hither safe enough, by some other vain paths; as i have done by preaching lately in germany, and in one of the faroe isles, and various other places. "thus through my preaching," he continued, "have come many of the _superstitions_ of the papists, and the _old fables_ first to the world, and the whole under the shape of some goodness. for who ever swallows the hook without some bait? who ever would believe a story if there were not some measure of _truth_ mingled with the falsehood; or some semblance of _good_ to shade the _evil_? thus if i find an opportunity in preaching, to push in amongst a hundred correct and salutary counsels, one of my own, with this one i will do you, either through _contentiousness_ or _superstition_, more advantage than all the rest of my counsels will do you harm." "well," said lucifer, "since you are of such utility in your pulpit, i order you for seven years, to take up your abode in the mouth of one of the barn-preachers, who will be sure to utter the first thing which comes to his tongue's end. then you will find an opportunity to put in a word now and then, to your own purpose." there were still many more devils and damned who were twisting through one another like lightning, around the throne of terrors, to give an account of what they had done, and again to receive commissions. but suddenly and unexpectedly, an order was given to all the messengers and the prisoners, to go out of the palace, every one to his hole, and to leave the king and his chief counsellors there alone. "had we not best depart," said i to my companion, "lest they should find us?" "you need not fear," said the angel "no unclean spirit will ever see through this veil." thus we continued there invisible, to see what was the matter. then lucifer began to speak graciously to his counsellors, in this manner:--"o ye, the chief spiritual evils!--ye, who for subtlety are unequalled in unknown, i request you in my need, to exert to the uttermost your malicious wiles. no one here is unaware, that britain and the surrounding isles, constitute the kingdom most dangerous to my authority, and most abounding with my enemies; and what is a hundred times worse, there is at present there a queen, who does not offer to turn once hitherward, either by the road of rome on the one hand, or the road of geneva on the other. notwithstanding, all the service which the pope has rendered us there for a long time, and oliver for some years past, how far are we from our object? what shall we do now? i am afraid that we shall lose there our ancient possession, and our market entirely, if we do not pave immediately some new way for its inhabitants to walk in, for they know all the old roads which lead hither too well. and, since yonder invincible fist shortens my chain, and prevents me from going myself to the earth, counsel me, i pray you, as to whom i shall make my deputy, to oppose yonder detestable queen, who is the deputy of our enemy." "o mighty emperor of darkness!" said cerberus, the devil of tobacco, "make a deputy of me, from whom the crown of britain derives the third part of its revenue. i will go and will send to you a hundred thousand of the souls of your enemies, through the hollow of a pipe." "well, well," said lucifer, "you have done me excellent service, by causing the proprietors of tobacco in india to be slaughtered, and those who take it to die of diseases, and sending many to vend it idly from house to house, and making others to steal in order to obtain it, and thousands to love it so far, that they cannot be a day without it in their right senses. "therefore go and do thy best; but, i tell thee, that thou art little better than nothing in the present exigency." thereupon cerberus sat down, and uprose mammon, devil of money, and with a morose sinister look said:--"i showed men the first mine from which they got money, and therefore, i am always extolled and worshipped more than god; men undergo for me trouble and danger, and place their whole mind, their delight, and their trust upon me: there is no one easy, because he has not obtained somewhat more of my favour, and the more they obtain the farther are they ever from rest, until at length by seeking _easy circumstances_, they arrive at the country of eternal torments. how many a crafty old miser have i not deluded hither, along paths more difficult than those which lead to the kingdom of happiness? at fair or market, sessions or elections, or any other assemblage of people, who has more subjects? who has more power and authority than i? cursing, swearing, fighting, litigating, plotting, deceiving, striking, hoarding, murdering and robbing, sabbath breaking and uncharitableness, all proceed from me: and there is no other black mark, which stamps men as belonging to the fold of lucifer, which i have not a hand in giving, on which account i am called 'the root of all evil.' therefore if it seem good to your majesty, i will go." and having said that he sat down. then arose apollyon. "i do not know," said he, "any thing that will bring the britons hither, more certainly than what brought yourselves--that is _pride_: if she ever plant her pole within them and inflate them, there is no reason to fear that they will stoop to lift the cross, or go through the narrow gate. i will go," said he, "with my daughter pride, and will cause the welsh, by gazing on the magnificence of the english, and the english, by imitating the frivolities of the french, to tumble into this place before they know where they are." next arose asmodeus, devil of wantonness. "you cannot but be aware," said he, "o most mighty sovereign of the abyss! and you, ye princes of the country of despair! how i have crammed the nooks of hell through debauchery and lasciviousness. what need have i to speak of the time, when i kindled such a flame of lust in the whole world, that it was necessary to send the flood, to clear the earth of its inhabitants, and to sweep them to us in the unquenchable fire; or of sodom and gomorrah, fair and pleasant cities, whose people i burnt with wantonness, till their infernal lusts brought down a fiery shower, which drove them hither alive to burn to all eternity; or of the vast army of the assyrians, which was slain all in one night on account of me? sarah i disappointed of seven husbands; solomon, the wisest of men, and many thousand other kings i blinded by means of women. therefore," said he, "suffer me to go with my _sweet sin_, and i will kindle in britain the sparks of hell so universally, that it shall become one with this place of unextinguishable flame; for there is not much chance, that any one will return from following me, to lay hold of the paths of life." and thereupon he sat down. then arose belphegor, prince of _sloth and idleness_. "i am," said he, "the great prince of listlessness and laziness; great is my power on myriads of men of all ages and degrees. i am the still pool, where 'the root of all evil' is generated; where coagulate the dregs of all destructive corruption and filthiness. what would you be worth, asmodeus; or you, ye other master spirits of evil, without me who keep the window open for you, without any watch, so that you may go into man by his eyes, by his ears, by his mouth, and by every other orifice which he has, whensoever you please. i will go, and will roll to you all the inhabitants of britain over the precipice in their sleep." then arose satan, the devil of _deceit_, who sat next to lucifer on his left hand, and after turning a frightful visage on the king,--"it is unnecessary for me," he said, "to declare my deeds to you, o lost archangel! or to you, black princes of destruction! because it was i who struck the first blow which man ever received; and a mighty blow it was, causing him to remain _mortal_, from the beginning of the world to its end. do you imagine that i, who despoiled the whole world, cannot at present give counsel which will serve for a paltry islet? and cannot i, who cheated _eve_ in _paradise_, vanquish _anne_ in _britain_? if no natural craft will avail, and continued experience for more than five thousand years, my counsel to you is, to dress up your daughter _hypocrisy_, to deceive britain and its queen; you have not a daughter in the world, so useful to you as she; she has more extensive authority and more numerous subjects, than all your other daughters. was it not through _her_ that i cheated the first woman? it was: and ever from that time she has remained and increased exceedingly upon the earth. at present indeed, the whole vast world is but one _hypocrisy_; and if it were not for the skill of hypocrisy, how should any one of us do business in any corner of the world? because if people were to see _sin_ in its own _color_, and under its own _name_, who would ever come in contact with it? the world would no more do so, than it would embrace the devil in his infernal shape and garb. if hypocrisy were not able to disguise her _name_, and the _nature_ of every _evil_, under the similitude of some _good_, and were not able to give some evil nickname to all _goodness_, no one would approach, and no one would covet evil at all. traverse the whole city of destruction, and you will see her in every corner. go to the street of _pride_, and enquire for an _arrogant man_, or for a pennyworth of _coquetry_, mixed up by pride; 'woe's me,' says hypocrisy, 'there is no such thing here; nothing at all i assure you in the whole street but grandeur.' or go to the street of _lucre_, and enquire for the house of the _miser_; fie, there is no such person in it: or for the house of the _murderer_ amongst the physicians: or the house of the _arrant thief_ amongst the drovers, and see how you would fare; you would sooner get into prison for enquiring, than get any body to confess his name. yes, hypocrisy creeps between man and his own heart, and conceals every _iniquity_ so craftily, under the name and similitude of some virtue, that she has made every body almost unable to recognise himself. _avarice_ she will call _economy_. in her language _dissipation_ is _innocent diversion_; _pride_ is _gentility_; a _perverse_ _man _is a _fine manly fellow_; _drunkenness_ is _good fellowship_, and _adultery_ is only the _heat of youth_. on the other hand, if _she_ and her disciples are to be believed, the _devout man_ is only a _hypocrite_ or a _blockhead_; the _gentle_ but a _sneaking dog_; the _sober_ a mere _hunks_, and so on. send her, therefore," he continued, "thither, in her full array, i will warrant that she will deceive every body, and that she will blind the counsellors and the warriors, and all the officers, secular and ecclesiastical, and will draw them hither in multitudes presently, by means of her _mask of changeable hue_." and thereupon he sat down. then beelzebub arose, the devil of _inconsiderateness_, and with a rough, bellowing voice,--"i am," said he, "the mighty prince of _bewilderment_; to me it pertains to prevent man from reflecting upon and considering his condition. i am the principal of those wicked, infernal _flies_ which craze mankind, by keeping them ever in a kind of continual buzz, about their possessions or their pleasures, without ever leaving them with my consent, a moment's respite, to think about their courses or their end. it ill becomes one of you, to attempt to put himself on an equality with me, for feats useful to the kingdom of darkness. for what is tobacco but one of my meanest instruments, to carry bewilderment into the brain? and what is the kingdom of _mammon_, but a branch of my vast domain? yea, if i were to recite the ties which i have on the subjects of _mammon_ and _pride_--yea, and on the subjects of _asmodeus_, _belphegor_, and _hypocrisy_--no man would tarry a minute longer under the rule of one of them. therefore," said he, "i am the one to do the work, and let none of you boast again about his merits." then lucifer the great arose himself from his burning throne, and with a would-be complaisant but nevertheless frightful look on both sides,--"ye master-spirits of eternal night! ye supreme possessors of the cunning of despair!" he said, "though the vast black gulf and the wilds of destruction, are indebted to no one for inhabitants, more than to my own royal majesty since i of yore, failing to drag the omnipotent from his possession, drew millions of you, my swarthy angels to this place of horrors, and have since drawn millions of men to you; nevertheless, it cannot be denied, that ye too have all done your part, to sustain this vast infernal empire." then lucifer began to answer them one by one. "for one of late origin, i will not deny, o _cerberus_, that thou hast brought to us many a booty from the island of our enemies, by means of tobacco, a weed the cause of much deceit; for how much deceit is practiced in carrying it about, in mixing it, and in weighing it: a weed which entices some people to bib ale; others to curse, swear, and to flatter in order to obtain it, and others to tell lies in denying that they use it: a weed productive of maladies in various bodies, the excess of which is injurious to every man's body, without speaking of his _soul_: a weed, moreover, by which we get multitudes of the poor, whom we should never get, did they not set their love on tobacco, and allow it to master them, and pull the bread from the mouths of their children. "and as for you, my brother _mammon_, your power is so universal, and likewise so manifest upon the earth, that it has become a proverb that '_any thing can be got for money_.' and undoubtedly," said he, turning to apollyon, "my beloved daughter _pride_ is of great utility to us; for what is more capable of injuring a man in his condition, his body, and his soul, than that _proud_, _haughty idea_, which will make him squander a _hundred pounds_ for display, rather than stoop to give a _crown_ for peace. _she_ keeps people so stiff-necked, with their sight so intent on lofty things, that it is a pleasure to see them, by staring and reaching into the air, falling plump into the abysses of hell. as for you, _asmodeus_, we all remember your great services of yore; no one keeps his prisoners more firmly under the lock, and no one meets with less rebuke than yourself--the whole rebuke, indeed, consisting in a little laughing, at what is called wanton tricks. yes, asmodeus, i admit that your power is very great; though i cannot help reminding you," he added, with a jocular though truly infernal grin, "that you were all but starved, above there, during the last dear years. as for you, my son _belphegor_, lousy prince of sloth, nobody has afforded us more pleasure than yourself, so very great is your authority amongst gentle and simple, even down to the beggar. nevertheless, if it were not for the skill of my daughter _hypocrisy_, in coloring and disguising, who would ever swallow one of your hooks? and after all, if it were not for the diligent firmness of my brother _beelzebub_, in keeping men in _inconsiderate bewilderment_, i question whether all of you united would be worth a straw. now," said he, "let us review the whole. "what would you be worth, cerberus, with your excessive sucking, if it were not for the assistance of mammon? what merchant would ever fetch your leaves from india, through so many perils, if it were not for the sake of mammon? and if it were not for _his_ sake, what king would receive it, in britain especially? and who, but for the sake of mammon, would carry it to every corner of the kingdom? but, notwithstanding this, what wouldst thou be worth, mammon, without pride to squander thee upon fine houses, magnificent garments, needless litigations, music, horses and costly appurtenances, various dishes, beer and ale in a flood, far above the _means_ and _rank_ of the possessor; for if money were used within the limits of _necessity_ and _propriety_, of what advantage would mammon be to us? thus you would be worth nothing without _pride_; and little would _pride_ be worth without _wantonness_, because bastards are the most numerous and the fiercest subjects, which my daughter _pride_ possesses in the world. "you too, asmodeus, prince of _wantonness_, what would you be worth, if it were not for _sloth and idleness_; where but for them would you get a night's lodging? you could hardly expect it from a labourer or toiling student. and you, belphegor of idleness, who would welcome you a minute, attended as you would be with shame and reproach, if it were not for hypocrisy, who conceals your ugliness under the name of _internal sickness_, or of a _well meaning person_, or under the shape of _despising riches_ and the like. "and she too, my dear daughter _hypocrisy_, what is she worth, or what would she ever be worth, skilful and resolute sempstress as she is, if it were not for your help, my eldest brother _beelzebub_, mighty prince of _inconsiderateness_. if he would leave people leisure and respite, to seriously consider the nature of things and their difference, how often would they spy holes in the folds of the gold-cloth robe of _hypocrisy_, and perceive the hooks through the bait? what man, did not inconsiderateness deprive him of his senses, would chase baubles and pleasures--evanescent, surfeiting, foolish and disgraceful--and prefer them to _peace of conscience_, and glorious _everlasting happiness_? and who would hesitate to suffer martyrdom for his faith, for an hour or a day, or to endure affliction for forty or sixty years, if he would reflect that his neighbours here are suffering in an hour, more than he can ever suffer upon the earth? "_tobacco_ then is nothing without _money_, nor money without _pride_; and pride is but feeble without wantonness, and wantonness is nothing without _idleness_; idleness without _hypocrisy_, and hypocrisy without _inconsiderateness_. but," said lucifer, (and he raised his fiendish hoofs on the fore claws,) "to speak my own opinion, however excellent all these may be, i have a _friend_ to send against the she-enemy of britain, better than the whole." then i could see all the chief devils, with their ghastly mouths opened towards lucifer, in anxious expectation of learning what this friend might be, whilst i was as impatient to hear as they. "the one i allude to," said lucifer, "is called _ease_; she is one whose merits i have too long disregarded, and whose merit, satan, you yourself disregarded of yore, when in tempting job you turned the unpleasant side of life towards him. she is my darling, and her i now constitute deputy, immediately next to myself, in all matters relating to my earthly government; ease is her name, and _she_ has damned more men than all ye together, and very few would ye catch without _her_. for in _war_, _or danger_, _or hunger_, _or sickness_, who would value _tobacco_, _or money_, or the pomposity of pride, or would entertain a thought of welcoming either _wantonness or sloth_? or who in such straits, would permit themselves to be distracted either by _hypocrisy or inconsiderateness_? no, no! they are too awake then, and not one of the infernal _flies of bewilderment_, which shows its beak, will buzz, during one of these storms. but _ease_, smooth ease, is the nurse of you all: in her calm shadow, and in her teeming bosom ye are all bred, and also every other infernal worm of the conscience, which will come to gnaw its possessor _here_ for ever, without intermission. "as long as _ease_ lasts, there is no talk but of some species of diversion, of banquets, bargains, pedigrees, stories, news, and the like. there is no mention of _god_, except in idle swearing and cursing; whereas the _poor_ and the _sick_, who know nothing of ease, have god in their mouths and their hearts every minute. "but go ye also in the rear of her, and keep every body in his sleep and his rest, in prosperity and comfort, abundance and carelessness; and then you will see the poor honest man, as soon as he shall drink of the alluring cup of ease, become a perverse, proud, untractable churl--the industrious labourer change into a careless, waggish rattler--and every other person become just what you would desire him. because pleasant _ease_ is what every one seeks and loves; she hears not counsel, fears not punishment--if good, she will not recognise it--if bad, she will foster it of her own accord. _she_ is the prime-temptation; the man who is proof against _her_ tender charms, ye may fling your caps to--for we must bid farewell for ever to his company. _ease_, then, is my terrestrial _deputy_, follow her to britain, and be as obedient to her as to our own royal majesty." at this moment the huge bolt was shaken, and lucifer and his chief counsellors were struck to the vortex of _extremest hell_; and oh, how horrible it was to see the throat of unknown opening to receive them! "well," said the angel "we will now return; but you have not yet seen any thing in comparison with the _whole_, which is within the bounds of _destruction_, and if you had seen the whole, it is nothing to the inexpressible misery which exists in _unknown_, for it is not possible to form an idea of the world in extremest hell." and at that word the celestial messenger snatched me up to the firmament of the accursed kingdom of darkness, by a way i had not seen, whence i obtained, from the palace along all the firmament of the black and hot _destruction_, and the whole _land of forgetfulness_, even to the walls of the _city of destruction_, a full view of the accursed monster of a _giantess_, whose feet i had seen before--i do not possess words to describe her figure. but i can tell you that she was a _triple-faced giantess_, having one very atrocious countenance turned towards the heavens, barking, snorting and vomiting accursed abomination against the celestial king; another countenance very fair towards the _earth_, to entice men to tarry in her shadow; and another, the most frightful countenance of all, turned towards _hell_, to torment it to all eternity. she is larger than the entire earth, and is yet daily increasing, and a hundred times more frightful than the whole of hell. she caused hell to be made, and it is she who fills it with inhabitants. if _she_ were removed from hell, hell would become paradise; and if she were removed from the earth, the little world would become heaven; and if she were to go to heaven, she would change the regions of bliss into utter hell. there is nothing in all the universe, (except herself,) that god did not create. she is the mother of the four female deceivers of the city of destruction; she is the mother of _death_; she is the mother of every _evil_ and _misery_; and she has a fearful hold on every living man--her name is sin. "_he who escapes from her hook_, _for ever blessed is he_!" said the angel. thereupon he departed, and i could hear his voice saying, "_write down what thou hast seen_, _and he who shall read it carefully shall never have reason to repent_." the heavy heart. heavy's the heart with wandering below, and with seeing the things in the country of woe; seeing lost men and the fiendish race, in their very horrible prison place; seeing that the end of the crooked track is a flaming lake, where dragon and snake with rage are swelling. i'd not, o'er a thousand worlds to reign, behold again, though safe from pain, the infernal dwelling. heavy's my heart, whilst so vividly the place is yet in my memory; to see so many, to me well known, thither unwittingly sinking down. to-day a hell-dog is yesterday's man, and he has no plan, but others to trepan to hell's dismal revels. when he reach'd the pit he a fiend became, in face and in frame, and in mind the same as the very devils. heavy's the heart with viewing the bed, where sin has the meed it has merited; what frightful taunts from forked tongue, on gentle and simple there are flung. the ghastliness of the damned things to state. or the pains to relate which will ne'er abate but increase for ever, no power have i, nor others i wot: words cannot be got; the shapes and the spot can be pictured never. heavy's the heart, as none will deny, at losing one's friend or the maid of one's eye; at losing one's freedom, one's land or wealth; at losing one's fame, or alas! one's health; at losing leisure; at losing ease; at losing peace and all things that please the heaven under. at losing memory, beauty and grace, heart-heaviness for a little space can cause no wonder. heavy's the heart of man when first he awakes from his worldly dream accursed, fain would be freed from his awful load of sin, and be reconciled with his god; when he feels for pleasures and luxuries disgust arise, from the agonies of the ferment unruly, through which he becomes regenerate, of christ the mate, from his sinful state springing blithe and holy. heavy's the heart of the best of mankind, upon the bed of death reclined; in mind and body ill at ease, betwixt remorse and the disease, vext by sharp pangs and dreading more. o mortal poor! o dreadful hour! horrors surround him! to the end of the vain world he has won; and dark and dun the eternal one beholds beyond him. heavy's the heart, the pressure below, of all the griefs i have mentioned now; but were they together all met in a mass, there's one grief still would all surpass; hope frees from each woe, while we this side of the wall abide- at every tide 'tis an outlet cranny. but there's a grief beyond the bier; hope will ne'er its victims cheer, that cheers so many. heavy's the heart therewith that's fraught; how heavy is mine at merely the thought! our worldly woes, however hard, are trifles when with that compared: that woe--which is known not here--that woe the lost ones know, and undergo in the nether regions; how wretched the man who exil'd to hell, in hell must dwell, and curse and yell with the hellish legions! at nought, that may ever betide thee, fret if at hell thou art not arrived yet; but thither, i rede thee, in mind repair full oft, and observantly wander there; musing intense, after reading me, of the flaming sea, will speedily thee convert by appalling. frequent remembrance of the black deep thy soul will keep, thou erring sheep, from thither falling. footnotes: {3} probably cheshire; the north welsh commonly call chester caer. {23} it is the custom of mahometans, to lay aside their sandals, before entering the mosque. {49} taliesin lived in the sixth century; he was a foundling, discovered in his infancy lying in a coracle, on a salmon-weir, in the domain of elphin, a prince of north wales, who became his patron. during his life he arrogated to himself a supernatural descent and understanding, and for at least a thousand years after his death he was regarded by the descendants of the ancient britons, as a prophet or something more. the poems which he produced procured for him the title of "bardic king;" they display much that is vigorous and original, but are disfigured by mysticism and extravagant metaphor. the four lines which he is made to quote above are from his hanes, or history, one of the most spirited of his pieces. when elis wynn represents him as sitting by a cauldron in hades, he alludes to a wild legend concerning him, to the effect, that he imbibed awen or poetical genius whilst employed in watching "the seething pot" of the sorceress cridwen, which legend has much in common with one of the irish legends about fin macoul, which is itself nearly identical with one in the edda, describing the manner in which sigurd fafnisbane became possessed of supernatural wisdom. {50} a dreadful pestilence, which ravaged gwynedd or north wales in 560. amongst its victims was the king of the country, the celebrated maelgwn, son of caswallon law hir. {84} llyn tegid, or the lake of beauty, in the neighbourhood of bala. {93} the reader is left to guess what description of people these prisoners were. they were probably violent fifth monarchy preachers. {100} an active london magistrate, treacherously murdered by a gang of papist conspirators in the reign of charles the second. {108} a celebrated welsh poet, who flourished in the thirteenth century. a short account of him will be found in owen's cambrian biography. 