Knightly Legends
of Wales

The Boy's Mabinogion

BEING THE EARLIEST WELSH TALES OF KING ARTHUR
IN THE FAMOUS RED BOOK OF HERGEST

EDITED FOR BOYS WITH AN INTRODUCTION

BY SIDNEY LANIER

EDITOR OF "THE BOY'S FROISSART" AND "THE BOY'S KING ARTHUR"

Illustrated by Alfred Frederick

NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1932

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. No part of this book
may be reproduced in any form without
the permission of Charles Scribner's Sons

Kai and His Companions at the Castle of the Giant Gwrnach

INTRODUCTION.

In the library of Jesus College, Oxford, is an ancient Welsh MS. called Llyfr [1] Coch [2] O Hergest;[3] that is, The Red Book of Hergest. This MS. was written in the fourteenth century, though some of the compositions which it has collected are of a much earlier date. It contains a number of poems, together with a body of prose romances called Mabinogion.[4]

In the year 1838 Lady Charlotte Guest published a translation of these Mabinogion, accompanied by the text of their Welsh originals and a mass of useful and scholarly notes. Her work bore this gracious dedication:—

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 honor, and the fervent patriotism for which its sons have ever been celebrated.

May you learn to emulate the noble qualities of Ivor Hael, and the firm attachment to your native country which distinguished that Ivor Bach, after whom the elder of you was named.

I am your affectionate mother,
C. E. GUEST.

Dowlais, Aug. 29, 1838.

Several considerations made me strongly desire to re-edit, upon the same plan with The Boy's Froissart and The Boy's King Arthur, the curious old products of Welsh fancy thus rendered available to scholars. The intrinsic charm of the stories themselves in the first place would easily have secured them a position in this series. Though not so rich as the Arabian Nights, they are more vigorous, and their fascination is of a more manful quality. Moreover, they are in comparison open-air tales, and do not move in that close, and, if one could think such a thing, gas-poisoned, temperature which often renders the atmosphere of the Eastern tales extremely unwholesome.

But in the second place the Mabinogion all centre, in one way or another, about the court of King Arthur, and present us with views of the domestic life going on in King Arthur's palace, as well as of the wild adventures of his warriors, which were conceived at a very much earlier and ruder period than that of Sir Thomas Malory's book; so that this collection of the earliest Arthurian legends seemed to make a peculiarly happy companion-book to The Boy's King Arthur, which was last published in this series. Indeed, it is probable that in these Mabinogion here following we have the original germs of that great growth of Arthurian romances which overspread Europe after Geoffrey of Monmouth published his History of the Britons, and of which I gave some account in the Introduction to The Boy's King Arthur. Readers of that Introduction will remember the statement there given, in which Geoffrey of Monmouth himself declares that his main material consisted of a Welsh book given him by a certain person since supposed to be Walter Map (or Mapes). Although several of the following Mabinogion have probably received additions from foreign sources in the course of time—an original Welsh story, for example, would be carried by some traveller into other parts of Europe, would there be retold with additions and variations, would find its way back in the new form to Wales, and thus re-appear after a while in Welsh collections; yet others are in a nearly pure state. In order to bring these two classes into striking contrast, and to show how much a foreign admixture of this kind might smooth down the grotesque ruggedness of its Welsh original, I have changed the order of the Mabinogion as given in Lady Guest's arrangement, and have placed the story of Kilhwch and Olwen, which is almost hideous in many of its huge fancies and distortions and is pure Welsh, immediately next to the story of The Lady of the Fountain, whose daintiness, luxury, black savages, and the like, seem here and there to indicate foreign touches. The general tone and essential spirit, however, of the whole, are distinctly Welsh, and old Welsh. I think it curious indeed to note how curious those old romances, or Mabinogion, seem to us in spite of the long intimacy and nearness between Welsh and English. They impress most readers with a greater sense of foreignness, of a wholly different cultus, than even Chinese or other antipodal tales; and over and above this there is a glamour and sleep-walking mystery which often incline a man to rub his eyes in the midst of a Mabinogi, and to think of previous states of existence.

It is another feature of this same difference between Welsh and English modes of thought which forms a third, and to me the most weighty, reason for bringing these Mabinogion before my young countrymen at this particular time. I can illustrate this difference most vividly by asking you to consider the following group of Welsh conceits and notions which I have assembled from various sources, upon the single thread of their likeness in extravagance, in wildness beyond all tolerance of reason, in lawlessness. Of course they are not to be taken as ordinary representative specimens; and I shall presently counterbalance them with some very beautiful, moderate, and wise examples of Welsh art. But they unquestionably show a tendency so characteristic as to be easily traceable.

Take, for instance, the following story concerning the famous mantle of King Ryence. Readers of King Arthur will remember the young sovereign's manful defiance, when, soon after his elevation to the throne, a messenger came from King Ryence demanding King Arthur's beard (though, indeed, he must have been too young to have one) to complete a mantle which King Ryence was purfling (bordering) with kings' beards,—a demand which Arthur pronounced "the most villainous and lewdest message that ever man heard sent to a king." The following version shows what prodigiously different forms the same narrative may assume.

Once upon a time two kings of Old Britain were walking together at night. Their names were Nynniaw and Peibiaw.

"See," said Nynniaw, "what a beautiful and large field I own!"

"Where is it?" said Peibiaw.

"The whole firmament," said Nynniaw.

"And do thou see," said Peibiaw, "what countless herds of cattle and sheep I have, feeding in thy field!"

"Where are they?" said Nynniaw.

"Why, all the stars which thou seest," replied Peibiaw, "with the moon for their shepherdess."

"They shall not graze in my pasture," said Nynniaw.

"They shall," said Peibiaw.

"They shall not," cried Nynniaw.

And then words arose between these two kings so bitter that they summoned their soldiers and fell to war wherein they continued until the armies of both were nearly destroyed. Seeing that such was the fact, Rhitta the giant, King of Wales (who is Sir Thomas Malory's King Ryens of North Wales), levied war against both, as being madmen dangerous to all their neighbors; and, having defeated their forces, he cut off the beards of kings Nynniaw and Peibiaw. But at this time there were twenty-eight kings in the Island of Britain, and when the others heard of these things, they marched all together against King Rhitta to avenge the insult of the beard. In the battle which followed, however, Rhitta was again victor. "This field is mine," said he, and cut off the beards of those kings. These matters being told abroad, the kings of all the surrounding countries made common cause against Rhitta, and presently waged a great battle with him. Still, Rhitta conquered all these. "The great field is mine," he said again; "and," cutting off all their beards, "these are the herds that fed in my field; but I have driven them out." Then he made a mantle for himself out of all those beards, and although he was a giant twice as large as the largest man ever known, that mantle reached from his head to his heels.

Or take the exactions of a certain messenger called "The Little Peacock" (Y Paun Bach), who was sent by a certain David, Prince of North Wales, to fetch Gwgan (Googan, nearly) the bard to court. After a long journey, towards the close of the evening the Little Peacock heard sounds of the tuning of a harp from a house in a wooded valley where he had arrived. "The style of playing and the modulation" led him to suspect that this was Gwgan's house; and in order to be sure he advances and pours forth a high-flown speech to Gwgan, who replies in the like lofty vein, finally inquiring what he would have. "I want lodging," quoth Y Paun Bach, "for to-night ... and that not better than I know how to ask for.... A lightsome hall, floored with tile, and swept, in which there has been neither flood nor raindrop for the last hundred years, dressed with fresh green rushes, laid so evenly that one rush be not higher than the other the height of a gnat's eye, so that my foot should not slip either backward or forward the space of a mote in the sunshine of June;" together with similar superb requirements as to the cushion beneath him, the pillow under each elbow, the fire, the supper, the servants' livery, and the quantity of his ale.

Or this itemized account of a monster, which, though not Welsh, is Gælic, and shows the general Keltic proclivity. "... they saw a couple approaching them,—a woman and a man; larger than the summit of ... a mountain was each ... of their members; sharper than a shaving-knife the edge of their shins; their heels and hams [were] in front of them; should a sackful of apples be thrown on their heads not one of them would fall to the ground, but would stick on the points of the strong, bristly hair which grew out of their heads; ... whiter than snow their eyes; a lock of the lower beard was carried round the back of the head, and a lock of the upper beard descended so as to cover the knees; the woman had whiskers, but the man was without whiskers."

Or the King Yspaddaden Penkawr, in the following story of Kilhwch and Olwen, whose eyebrows hung over his eyes to such a degree that they had to be propped up with forks; as well as the amazing qualifications of King Arthur's warriors, detailed in the same story,—such as of him whose dagger was so broad that King Arthur's army was accustomed to use it for a bridge in passing rivers; or him who could hear the touch of a gnat's foot on the ground at a great distance, or of him who could see a mote in a sunbeam at either of the four corners of the earth, or him whose red beard lay completely along the twenty-eight rafters of the king's hall, or of him whose lips were so large that he was accustomed to draw the lower down for an apron and to lift up the other for a hood; and others still more marvellously absurd. If we compare these with the wildest flights in Malory's King Arthur, nothing can be clearer than the constant presence in the latter of a certain reasonable restraint, a sober proportion, a sense of the supreme value of law, even in the most apparently lawless excursions. It would be going far beyond proper bounds to discuss here how this subtle feeling for the beauty of restraint, this underlying perception of the artistic necessity of law and order, has quietly reigned, not only over the advance of English literature, but has been also the moving spirit, the perpetual King Alfred, of the whole of English development in general. And, as hinted, I have thought this consideration particularly forcible at the present moment in our own country, where the making of statutes increases in exact proportion to the decrease in the popular esteem for them. Daily and endlessly our Legislatures multiply laws and murder Law. But—may I not add, if only as one of those utterances which a boy sometimes profitably remembers, though at first dimly understood—the love of Law beyond all laws would seem to be particularly vital in a republic; being a principle so comprehensive, that at one extreme, in contact with certain tendencies, it flowers into that sense of proportion, of the due relation of all parts of the universe to the whole, which is the artist's largest perception of beauty, and is the main outfit of genius in constructing Mabinogion, in literature, in all art; while at the other extreme, working with certain other tendencies of character, the same love of Law is at once the root of decorous behavior on the part of the private citizen, and of large statesmanship on the part of the public official.

But while this danger of extravagance certainly exists in the products of Welsh fancy, they possess many qualities which have wrought with fine influence upon general English life and literature. Among the oldest remains of Welsh poetic wisdom that have come down to us are what were called The Triads, in which wise aphorisms and sayings are effectively grouped together by threes. The four following examples of this form of composition show an insight and breadth which render them instructive to the wisest readers of our own time.

The three qualifications of poetry: Endowment of genius, judgment from experience, and happiness of mind.

II.

The three primary requisites of genius: An eye that can see nature, a heart that can feel nature, and boldness that dares follow nature.

III.

The three foundations of judgment: Bold design, constant practice, and frequent mistakes.

IV.

The three foundations of learning: Seeing much, suffering much, and studying much.

It would be difficult to find more wisdom in fewer words, or loftier thought in simpler terms; and any young reader of The Mabinogion will have done a good day's work if he will commit these words so thoroughly that they will say themselves over to him, day by day, as a noble and fruitful formula, alike stimulating in every line of life, from the ploughman's to the president's. Among the Welsh, indeed, as far back as history can pierce, we find an almost adoring reverence for the poet. To assume the function of a bard is to assume the function of the wisest man and best teacher in society; and therefore the utmost pains are taken with the young bard's education, and he is held bound to know all that can be known. One supreme name stands out among ancient Welsh bards, which I will ask you to remember in this connection. This is Taliesin, whose name signifies "Shining Brow." He is the hero of one of the following Mabinogion which bears his name for a title. Some specimens of his poetry will there be found; and a few facts as to his life are added in a footnote. The poet of next rank to him is perhaps Llywarch Hen, who, as well as Taliesin, belongs to the sixth century. The word "Hen" means old; and "Old Llywarch" seems a sort of expression of endearment. This is a specimen of his more pathetic song. His youngest son, Gwenn, had been slain in battle.

"Let the wave break noisily: let it cover the shore when the joined lances are in battle.... Let the wave break noisily: let it cover the plain when the lances join with a shock.... Gwenn has been slain at the ford of Morlas.... Here is the tomb of Gwenn, the son of the old Llywarch. Sweetly a bird sang on a pear-tree above the head of Gwenn, before they covered him with turf: that broke the heart of the old Llywarch."

I wish there were time to speak of Aneurin, the battle-singer; or to give the curious triad published among the Iolo Manuscripts, describing "The Nine Impulsive Stocks of the Baptismal Bards of Britain"; or to cite some brief beauties of still less-known poets,—such as the wild Hebrew outcry of the King Gwyddno Garanhir, which swept over the waste floods covering his plains and cities after the total destruction of his kingdom by the sea through the drunkenness of Seithenin, who had been left to watch the embankment on a night of revelry,—

"Stand forth, Seithenin, and behold the dwelling of heroes,—the plain of Gwyddno the ocean covers!

Accursed be the sea guard, who after his carousal let loose the destroying fountain of the raging deep.

Accursed be the watcher, who after his drunken revelry loosed the fountain of the desolating sea.

A cry from the sea arises above the ramparts; even to heaven does its ascend,—after the fierce excess comes the long cessation!

A cry from the sea ascends above the ramparts; even to heaven does the supplication come!—after the excess there ensues restraint!

A cry from the sea awakens me this night!—

A cry from the sea arises above the winds!

A cry from the sea impels me from my place of rest this night!

After excess comes the far extending death!"

—or as the saying of Heinin Vardd, preserved in the fragment,—

"Hast thou heard the saying of Heinin,

The Bard of the college of Llanveithan?

The brave is never cruel."

In this connection I will ask you to notice also the intense feeling for color, which, in some of the following Mabinogion, spreads an almost Oriental luxuriance of tint over the scenes. The Lady of the Fountain (the first Mabinogi of the following collection), for example, shows us King Arthur reclining upon green rushes, with a cushion of red satin under his elbow, Guenever and her ladies grouped at the other end of the hall, mantles of flame-colored satin, gilded bows, gold-headed arrows winged with peacocks' feathers, gold-banded garments, shoes of variegated leather, twenty-four youths with golden hair, rooms with all the panels painted in gorgeous colors, the coal-black savage, white whalebone (ivory of the narwhal's tooth, probably), and the like. Or we have a quaint extravagant scene like that in the Mabinogi of Peredur (the modern Percival of the Arthur series): where, upon a certain occasion, Peredur was observed with his eyes fixed upon a certain spot, sunken in deep meditation. All attempts to get his attention failed; he was cuffed, boxed, even overthrown; until, after a final catastrophe (for which see the story), Peredur explains that he is studying certain effects of color produced by the following circumstances; after spending the night in a hermit's cell, "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 the 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 snow, and to the two red spots upon her cheeks, which were redder than the blood upon the snow appeared to be."

The glowing picture of the young knight starting for Arthur's court in Kilhwch and Olwen; the dainty composition of the maiden Blodeuwedd, who was constructed by magic out of certain flowers in order to be a bride for Gwyddion, who was cursed by Arianrod with the curse that he should never have a wife of the present human race,—these and many similar bright-colored passages in the Mabinogion will strike the most cursory reader in confirmation of the feeling for color alleged. While I am scarcely prepared to attribute so much weight to any foreign element as to agree with Mr. Henry Morley in believing that but for the Keltic influence England would not have produced a Shakespere; or with Mr. Matthew Arnold, that English poetry got nearly all its turn for catching and rendering the charm of nature in a wonderfully near and vivid way, beside possibly other qualities, from a Keltic source: yet I think we can safely say that our literature has certainly enriched itself with Bard's wisdom, has certainly warmed itself with the fire and color of Keltic fancy, and has perhaps spiritualized its feeling for nature with that subtle wood-loneliness which Mr. Arnold calls "the natural magic" of the Kelt.

The Welsh proper names are apt to make such an uncouth impression upon those unacquainted with their true sounds, that perhaps the most helpful matter to which I can devote the brief remainder of this Introduction is the pronunciation of Welsh. The following rules, in which of course all attempt at minute accuracy is sacrificed to brevity, and only approximate sounds are aimed at, will at least result in showing such names to be often musical and pleasing, even to the English ear. The letters which cause most perplexity are w, ll, y, and ch. W is usually sounded like oo in pool, as already explained under the name "Kilhwch," pronounced Kilhooch; though where it precedes a vowel this sound (oo) of course practically becomes the English consonantal w; for example, oo-et, rapidly pronounced, would merge into wet; and so in "Llywarch" or "Gwyddion," the w before the a or y may be considered as having simply the force of the English w. Y, if long, is like German ü, or French u in une; nearly English ee in seen. Y short, much like our short u, except in the last syllable of words, where it is more like our short i. Ll is like Spanish ll in llanos, but with an aspirated sound made by forcing the breath through the back teeth so vigorously as to impress the English ear with the sound of a strongly-lisped s. If the organs be arranged so as to pronounce the y in yield, and the sound lh vigorously forced upon that position, something like Welsh ll results. Ch is guttural, as in Scotch loch, German ach. The vowels a, e, i, mostly occur in the following names as short English a, e, i; o, as long o; and u, as a rapidly pronounced French u. The often occurring aw is like ou in English our, or German au in haus. Dd is nearly th in then, only with more of d than t blended with the h sound. C is always k, Cynon equals Kynon; there is no soft c in Welsh. F is always v; it is only ff which sounds like our f in fan. G always hard, as in get. Th as in English thanks; never as in then.

All other letters may be sounded as in English. It is possible, I should add, that even Welshmen may find theoretical fault with some of these directions; but they are given here as very nearly reproducing the practical impression made upon English ears by actual Welsh current talk. No one need go outside of his own experience to discover how greatly the sounds of current discourse differ from theoretical methods of pronunciation.

Such is the general sound of the Welsh tongue. It will be helpful if I add—in view of many books which are now appearing as results of the fresh interest lately aroused in old Gælic language and literature—that the sounds here given belong to the tongue of that special division of the Kelts known as the Cymric (pronounced Kymric) Kelts, in distinction from their neighbors of ancient Ireland and Scotland, known as the Gædhilic, or Gælic. The derivation of the names "Wales" and "Welsh" is much disputed, and may be regarded as unsettled. They are, at any rate, much later than "Cambria" and "Cymric," which all Welshmen claim to be the true names for their country and nation, building upon that ancient tradition perpetuated by Geoffrey of Monmouth, that after the death of Brutus, the original founder of Britain, his three sons divided the kingdom between them; the eldest, Locrinus, taking the part now known as England, but called after him "Locria" (or, variously, "Locgria," "Locris," &c.) in all old chronicles; the next son, Albanach (Albany), taking the parts north of the Humber; and the third son, Camber, taking the part between the Irish seas and the rivers Severn and Dee, whence it was called after him, "Cambria," now known as Wales.

Hence the Welsh now call themselves "Cymru," usually reproduced in English by "Cymry," and their language "Cymraec," or "Cymraeg," usually reproduced in English by "Cymric."

The present work contains nearly all the Mabinogion originally given; and, as in the other works of this series, the original text is scrupulously preserved, except occasionally to hasten the long-lagging action of a story,—in which case the interpolation is always placed in brackets,—and except where the demands of modern reserve required excision. An Italicized word in brackets is always the meaning of the word immediately before it, as in the Froissart and the King Arthur.

In now leaving this beautiful book with my young countrymen, I find myself so sure of its charm as to feel no hesitation in taking authority to unite the earnest expression of their gratitude with that of my own to Lady Charlotte Guest, whose talents and scholarship have made these delights possible; and I can wish my young readers few pleasures of finer quality than that surprised sense of a whole new world of possession which came with my first reading of these Mabinogion, and made me remember Keats's

"... watcher of the skies

When a new planet swims into his ken."

SIDNEY LANIER

Camp Robin, N.C., June, 1881.

CONTENTS.

[The Lady of the Fountain]

[Kilhwch and Olwen; or, the Twrch Trwyth]

[Peredur the Son of Evrawc]

[The Dream of Rhonabwy]

[Pwyll, Prince of Dyved]

[The Story of Lludd and Llevelys]

[The Origin of the Owl]

[Branwen the Daughter of Llyr]

[Manawyddan and the Mice]

[Geraint the Son of Erbin]

[The Dream of Maxen Wledig]

[Taliesin]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

[Kai and his Companions at the Castle of the Giant Gwrnach]

[The Recovery of Owain]

[Kilhwch riding into Arthur's Hall]

[Peredur and the Maiden]

[Peredur and the Chessmen]

[The Army of Ravens]

[The Battle of the Dragons]

[The Flight of Blodeuwedd and her Maidens]

[Pryderi held fast by the Enchanted Bowl]

[The Tournament of the Sparrow-hawk]

[Geraint and the Maiden at the Edge of the Wood]

[Elphin singing before Taliesin]

THE BOY'S MABINOGION.

[THE LADY OF THE FOUNTAIN.]

King Arthur was at Caerlleon-upon-Usk; and one day he sat in his chamber, and with him were Owain [5] the son of Urien,[5] and Kynon the son of Clydno, and Kai the son of Kyner, and Gwenhwyvar and her handmaidens at needle-work 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 honor, 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.

In the centre of the chamber King Arthur sat upon a seat of green rushes, over which was spread a covering of flame-colored satin, and a cushion of red satin was under his elbow.

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. So Kai [6] 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 art 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, 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 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 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. 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 the least fair of them was fairer than the fairest maid thou hast ever beheld in the Island of Britain; and the least lovely of them was more lovely than Gwenhwyvar, the wife of Arthur, when she has appeared loveliest at the Offering, on the day of the Nativity, or at the feast of Easter. They rose up at my coming, and six of them took my horse and divested me of my armor. And six others took my arms and washed them in a vessel 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 with 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. 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 have ever seen elsewhere; but the meat and the liquor were better served there than I have ever seen 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 inquire 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, I would show 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 show 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-favored; and he is the woodward of that wood. And thou wilt see a thousand wild animals grazing around him. Inquire of him the way out of the glade; and he will reply to thee briefly, and will point out the road by which thou shalt find that which thou art in quest of.'

"And long seemed that 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 cross-road 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. Then I asked him what power he held over those animals.

"'I will show 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 inquired 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 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. 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 scarce 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 needest not seek it during the rest of thy life.'

"So I journeyed on until I reached the summit of the steep, and there I found 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 flank 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, 'O knight! what has brought thee hither? What evil have I done to thee, that thou shouldst 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 armor and leaving there my blessing, I returned to my own court. And that horse I still possess, and he is in the stable yonder; and I declare 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 endeavor to discover that place?"

"By the hand of my friend," said Kai, "often dost thou utter that with thy tongue which thou wouldst 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 a while."

"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 armor, 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, headpiece, 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 succor 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; 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 colors; and there was not a single panel that had not sundry images 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 had never seen any kind of meat that was not there in abundance; but it was better cooked there than he had 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 clamor in the castle. And Owain asked the maiden what that outcry was.

"They are administering extreme unction,"[7] said she, "to the nobleman who owns the castle."

And Owain went to sleep.

And a little after daybreak they heard an exceeding loud clamor 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. 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 baron.

Never did Owain see an assemblage so gorgeous with satin and silk and sendal. 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 clamor of the trumpets. No sooner had he beheld the lady than he became inflamed with her love, so that it took entire possession of him.

Then he inquired 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. 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 where 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 shouldst send 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 inquired 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 showed 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 [8] 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 this account; for thou thyself and the men of thy household will be able to avenge Owain if he be slain, or to set him free if he be in prison, and if alive to bring him back 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, besides 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 adventure 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, 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, 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 spear-head, 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 honor which had been sent him by the daughter of the Earl of Rhangyw; and in this dress he was not known by any of the host. 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 incensed 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. And the multitude that witnessed their 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 honor 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, and during all that time, up to this very day, I have been preparing a banquet for thee, knowing that thou wouldst 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, [beseeching] her to permit Owain to go with him for the space of three months, that he might show 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 so much as was seen of the saddle were of gold. And the damsel was arrayed in a dress of yellow satin. And she came 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."

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, [yet] 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 rose 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 inquired of her what land and what territory that was.

The Recovery of Owain.

"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 [only] this one dwelling that has not been wrested from her by a young earl who is her neighbor, 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 sevenscore 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 inquired of the maiden the cause thereof.

"The earl," said she, "whom I mentioned to thee, has come before the castle with a numerous army, to subdue the countess."

And Owain inquired of her whether the countess had a horse and arms in her possession.

"She has the best in the world," said the maiden.

"Wilt thou go and request 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 forever—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 armor 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 requital 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 beheld a huge craggy mound in the middle of the wood, on the side of which was a gray 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 sprang 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 handmaiden 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 has not returned since. And he was the friend I loved best in the world. And two of the pages in the countess' 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 inquired 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 mayst 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 sight of the castle. And he entered it, and was honorably 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. 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. 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 that 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 clamor, 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. Then Owain put on his armor, 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 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.

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, 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 then he 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 honor 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 this 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 [9] 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.

[KILHWCH][10] AND OLWEN; OR, THE TWRCH TRWYTH.

[Kilhwch, having grown to be a youth in the palace of his father, was one day sent for by his stepmother, who said to 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 inquired 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."

And the youth pricked forth upon a steed with head dappled-gray, 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.[11] 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 of the dewdrop 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 white-breasted greyhounds, having strong collars of rubies about their necks reaching from the shoulder to the ear. And the one that was on the left side 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. 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, 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."

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."

"What clamor 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 them 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 would'st follow my counsel, thou would'st not break through the laws of the court because of him."

"Not so, blessed Kai. It is an honor to us to be resorted to; and the greater our courtesy the greater will be our renown, and our fame, and our glory."

And Glewlwyd came to the gate, and opened the gate before him; and, although all dismounted upon the horseblock at the gate, yet did he not dismount, but 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."

Kilhwch Riding into Arthur's Hall.

"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."

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, my dagger, and Gwenhwyvar, my wife. Name what thou wilt."

"I would that thou bless my hair."

"That shall be granted thee."

And Arthur took a golden comb, and scissors whereof the loops were of silver, and he combed his hair. And Arthur inquired 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."

"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 Geraint the son of Erbin, and Osla Gylleillvawr (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); 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); 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); Brys, the son of Bryssethach (from the Hill of the Black Fernbrake in North Britain); 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); and Henwas Adeinawg, the son of Erim; and Henbedestyr, the son of Erim; and Sgilti Yscawndroed, the 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 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); and Hueil, the son of Kaw (he never yet made a request at the hand of any lord); and Taliesin, the chief of the bards; and Manawyddan, the son of Llyr; Bwlch and Kyfwlch and Sefwlch, the sons of Cleddyf Kyfwlch (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; their three wives, Och and Garym and Diaspad; their three grandchildren, 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); 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 Glwyddyn Saer (who constructed Ehangwen, Arthur's hall); 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; Morvudd, the daughter of Urien Rheged; Gwenllian Deg, the majestic maiden; Creiddylad,[12] the daughter of Lludd 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)."

And all these [13] did Kilhwch, son of Kilydd, adjure to obtain his boon.

Then said Arthur, "O 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 honor with me."

Then said Kai, "Rash chieftain! dost thou reproach Arthur? Go with us, and we will not part until thou dost 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 was 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 farther than thou thyself."

"Let us go then, together," answered Kai.

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, "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 possessions. And ye, also—who are ye?"

"We are an embassy from Arthur, come to seek Olwen, the daughter of Yspaddaden Penkawr."

"O 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."

"O man! does the sea permit its dead to wear jewels? Show me, then, this body."

"O wife! him to whom this ring belonged thou shalt see here in the evening."

"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.

"O 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-colored silk; and about her neck was a collar of ruddy gold, on which were precious emeralds and rubies. More yellow was her head than the 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 three-mewed falcon, was not brighter than hers. Her bosom was more snowy than the breast of the white swan; her cheek was redder than the reddest roses. 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 any thing, 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.

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? 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. 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 gadfly. 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 shalt 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 shalt receive thy death because of her."

"Where is he that seeks my daughter? Come hither, where I may see thee." And they placed him in 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 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,—the two dun oxen of Gwlwlyd, 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 Peibiaw,[14] 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. 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 caldron 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 will 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 will 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 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."

"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 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 Garam and Diaspad. Their three grandchildren, Lluched and Vyned and Eissiwed. Their three daughters, Drwg and Gwaeth and Gwaethav Oli. 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 shalt 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 thou, 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?"

"O 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 inquire of them if they possessed any art?"

"I did inquire," 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, "O man! is it true that is reported of thee,—that thou knowest how to burnish swords?"

"I know full well how to do so," answered 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 would'st 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."

"O 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. 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 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, where Eidoel was imprisoned. Glivi 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 shalt 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 Ieithoedd, to go upon this quest; for thou knowest all languages, and art familiar with 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 inquire. 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, which grew up to be an oak with an hundred branches. And that oak has since perished; so that now nothing remains of it but the withered stump. And from that day to this I have been here; yet have I never heard of the man for whom you inquire. Nevertheless, 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 inquire. 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 inquire, except once, when I went in search of food as far as Llyn Llyw. And when I came there, I struck my talons into a salmon, thinking he would serve me as food for a long time. But he drew me into the 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. 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."

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," asked Arthur, "where she is?"

"She is in Aber Deu Cleddyf," said one.

Then Arthur went to the house of Tringad in Aber Cleddyf, and he inquired 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 he sprang 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 flaxseed which Yspaddaden Penkawr had required of Kilhwch, and they brought the full measure without lacking any, except one flaxseed, and that the lame pismire brought in before night.

As Kai and Bedwyr sat on a beacon cairn 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 even that 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 into 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 forever 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, his son. And he captured Penn, the son of Nethawg, and Nwython, and Kyledyr Wyllt, his son.

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 Griedawl, 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 Benbaedd. 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 Benbaedd 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 caldron of Diwrnach Wyddel, his purveyor. And Odgar commanded him to give it. But Diwrnach said, "Heaven is my witness, if it would avail him any thing 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 drunk as much as they desired, Arthur demanded to have the caldron. 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 caldron, 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 caldron, 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, and fought with them. And when he had put them to flight Arthur with his men went forward to the ship, carrying away the caldron full of Irish money. And he disembarked at the house of Llwydden, the son of Kelcoed, at Porth Kerddin in Dyved. And there is the measure of the caldron.

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. The warriors inquired 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 endeavor 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 Arthur 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 Cleddyf, 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 Clwydd, 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 Iscawyn 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, where he made another stand, and where he slew Kyflas 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. 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. 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. Of all his pigs, there went with him alive from that place none save Grugyn Gwallt Ereint and Liwvdawg 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 valor 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 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 Owen 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, 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 Hiramreu and Hireidil go to the cave."

So they went. But if great was the trouble of the first two 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 therefor needest thou not thank me, but Arthur who hath accomplished this for thee. By my free will thou should'st 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.

And 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.

[PEREDUR][15] 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 well as his father and brothers. His mother was a scheming and thoughtful woman, and she was very anxious concerning this her only son and his 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 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 showed him all these things fully, and told him what use was made of them.

"Go forward," said Peredur, "for I saw such an one as thou inquirest 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 honorable 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 have 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, the tent seeming to him to be a church, he repeated his Paternoster to it. 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 auburn-haired 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 demeanor." 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 revenge 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. 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 honor 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 harborage 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, "Haha!" 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 ill taught 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, "Haha, 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 valor and noble mien.

"Tell me," said the knight, "didst thou see any one coming after me from the court?"

"The tall man that was there," said he, "desired me to come and overthrow thee, and to take from thee the goblet and thy horse and thy armor 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 with the shaft of his spear between the neck and the shoulder.

"Haha, 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 honorable 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."

And Owain unfastened his armor and his clothes. "Here, my good soul," said he, "is a horse and armor 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 show 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 revenge 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.

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 honor 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 inquired 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, youths," 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 honor 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 honor 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 drunk 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."

[Then] 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 re-unite 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 re-united. 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 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 forbore to ask him concerning it. And when the clamor 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 inquired 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 shalt thou have," said he, "upon these terms: that thou take this woman in marriage, and do her all the honor and reverence in thy power, seeing thou hast, without cause, slain her wedded husband; and that thou go to Arthur's court, and show him that it was I that overthrew thee, to do him honor 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 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 seen them 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."

Peredur and the Maiden.

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. [Then, having eaten, Peredur retired and slept. And in the night] with the noise of the door opening, Peredur awoke; and the maiden was [there] 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 valor 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 succor 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 inquired 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 armor 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 the 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 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 honorable 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 honor, 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 armor 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 behooves 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 prudent man. Go, and take enough of armor 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 shalt have it, by my faith; and grant me thine," said he.

"Gladly will I do so," answered Peredur.

So they rode forth together joyfully 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 armor. 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 valor 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 honor 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 gray 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 seahorse. And one of the pages had red hair, and the other auburn. And they went before him to the place where the gray man was, and Peredur saluted him. And the gray man said, "Disgrace to the beard of my porter!" Then Peredur understood that the porter was the lion. And the gray 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 gray 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 gray 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 gray 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 gray 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 forever."

Then they went in; and the gray man and the tall woman saluted Peredur. And the gray man said unto him, "Since I have possessed this valley, I have not seen any Christian depart with his life, save thyself. And we will go to do homage to 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 gray 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 gray man told Arthur that it was Peredur that had vanquished them. And Arthur gave the valley to the gray man and his company, to hold it of him as Peredur had besought. And with Arthur's permission the gray 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 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 color 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 recognized 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 valor 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, "woful 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?" inquired 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 neighbors, 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 a while, 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 saidst, 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 armor, 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 armor, 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 carn, and in the carn 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 inquired 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 remain here to see the hounds chasing the roused deer from the wood to the plain. And thou shalt 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 armor upon him. And the man rode up by his side, and saluted him, and wished him the favor of Heaven and of man. And Peredur greeted the youth kindly.

"Lord, I come to make a request unto thee."

"What would'st thou?"

"That thou should'st take me as thine attendant."

"Whom, 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 should'st 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 forward till they came in sight of the mound and the tents.

"Go unto yonder men," said Peredur to Etlym, "and desire them to come and do me homage."

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 inquired of them wherefore they were there. And they told him they were guarding the serpent until he should die. "For then should we fight for the stone among ourselves, and whoever should be 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 all together 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 forward, 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 colors. And he marvelled still more at the number of water-mills and of windmills that he saw. And there rode up with him a tall auburn-haired man in a workman's garb; and Peredur inquired 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 inquired of the miller wherefore such a multitude was 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 armor. 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 a 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-dike. 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 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 gray, 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 back was in the shape of a crook. And her figure was very thin and spare, except her feet, 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 favor. 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 inquire 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 honor, I know where he may find it. There is a castle on a lofty mountain, and a maiden [is] therein, and she is a prisoner; 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 the 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 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 armor 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 armor, 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 Gwalchmai, "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 showed 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 did'st think that it was right for thee to entertain and to sit by yonder man, thou would'st not do so." And he withdrew his head, and went forth.

"Ah, 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 was 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 after many days, and great deeds of arms and perilous adventures, at last Peredur met with a certain maiden, and asked her the way to the Castle of Wonders.] 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 favored lost the game, 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."

Peredur and the Chessmen.

"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 doth 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 entreated 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 armor. 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 gray-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 hoary-headed 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-armor 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 honor 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 honor, and to fare like as himself. But Iorwerth refused this.

And Iorwerth made an inroad into Loegria, 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 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 came 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, 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, with the stems of boughs sticking up there through; 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-colored rug, threadbare and ragged; and a coarse sheet, full of slits, was upon the rug, and an ill-stuffed pillow, and a worn-out cover upon the sheet. And after much suffering from the discomfort of their couch, a heavy sleep fell on Rhonabwy's companions. But Rhonabwy, not being able either to sleep or to rest, thought he should suffer less if he went to lie upon the yellow calf-skin that was stretched out on the floor. And there he slept.

As soon as sleep had come upon his eyes, it seemed to him that he was journeying with his companions across 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 chestnut horse, whereof the legs were gray 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 show him that he was his foster-father and his uncle, and to seek for peace, lest the sons of the Kings of the Island of Britain and of the nobles should be slain. And 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."

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 clamor 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 the bishop on one side of him, and Gwarthegyd the son of Kaw on the other. And a tall, auburn-haired youth stood before him, with his sheathed sword in his hand, and clad in a coat and cap of jet-black satin. 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 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 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 Badou, 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 ruddiest blood. And he rode amongst the host.

Thereupon they heard a call made for Kadwr, Earl of Cornwall; and behold he arose, with the sword of Arthur in his hand. And 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 it 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-favored man, having red whiskers with bristly hairs. And behold he came upon a tall red horse, with the mane parted on each side, and he brought with him a large and beautiful sumter 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 color 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 party-colored leather, fastened at the insteps with golden clasps. And he bore a heavy three-edged sword with a golden hilt, in a scabbard of black leather tipped with fine gold. And he came to the place where the emperor and Owain were playing at chess.

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 thy 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.

Knightly Legends of Wales; or, The Boy's Mabinogion / Being the Earliest Welsh Tales of King Arthur in the Famous Red Book of Hergest

Knightly Legendsof Wales

The Boy's Mabinogion

BY SIDNEY LANIER

INTRODUCTION.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

THE BOY'S MABINOGION.

[THE LADY OF THE FOUNTAIN.]

[KILHWCH][10] AND OLWEN; OR, THE TWRCH TRWYTH.

[PEREDUR][15] THE SON OF EVRAWC.

[THE DREAM OF RHONABWY.]

Knightly Legends
of Wales