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Post by Senbecc on May 6, 2006 1:37:48 GMT -5
The Mabinogion is actually two diffrent books of Welsh Celtic stories and poetry. These books are called the Red book of Hergest, and earlier the White book of Rhydderch, some of the stories dateing from 500 BC.
The stories inside aren't the writtings of any one single writter and have probably evolved a great deal over the centuries being passed only by word of mouth until a Master Bard put them together in writting around the 12th century.
PWYLL PRINCE OF DYFED.[/b]
PWYLL Prince of Dyfed, was lord of the seven Cantrevs of Dyfed; and once upon a time he was at Narberth his chief palace, and he was minded to go and hunt, and the part of his dominions in which it pleased him to hunt was Glyn Cuch. So he set forth from Narberth that night, and went as far as Llwyn Diarwyd. And that night he tarried there, and early on the morrow he rose and came to Glyn Cuch; when he let loose the dogs in the wood and sounded the horn, and began the chase. And as he followed the dogs, he lost his companions; and whilst he listened to the hounds, he heard the cry of other hounds, a cry different from his own, and coming in the opposite direction.
And he beheld a glade in the wood forming a level plain, and as his dogs came to the edge of the glade, he saw a stag before the other dogs. And lo, as it reached the middle of the glade, the dogs that followed the stag overtook it and brought it down. Then looked he at the colour of the dogs, staying not to look at the stag, and of all the hounds that he had seen in the world, he had never seen any that were like unto these. For their hair was of a brilliant shining white, and their ears were red; and as the whiteness of their bodies shone, so did the redness of their ears glisten. And he came towards the dogs, and drove away those that had brought down the stag, and set his own dogs upon it.
And as he was setting on his dogs he saw a horseman coming towards him upon a large light-grey steed, with a hunting horn round his neck, and clad in garments of grey woollen in the fashion of a hunting garb. And the horseman drew near and spoke unto him thus. "Chieftain," said he, "I know who thou art, and I greet thee not." "Peradventure," said Pwyll, "thou art of such dignity that thou shouldest not do so." "Verily," answered he, "it is not my dignity that prevents me." "What is it then, O Chieftain?" asked he. "By Heaven, it is by reason of thine own ignorance and want of courtesy." "What discourtesy, Chieftain, hast thou seen in me?" "Greater discourtesy saw I never in man," said he, " than to drive away the dogs that were killing the stag and to set upon it thine own. This was discourteous, and though I may not be revenged upon thee, yet I declare to Heaven that I will do thee more dishonour than the value of an hundred stags." "0 Chieftain," he replied, " if I have done ill I will redeem thy friendship." "How wilt thou redeem it?" "According as thy dignity may be, but I know not who thou art?" "A crowned King am I in the land whence I come." "Lord," said he, "may the day prosper with thee, and from what land comest thou?" "From Annwvyn," answered he; "Arawn, a King of Annwvyn, am I." "Lord," said he, "how may I gain thy friendship?" "After this manner mayest thou," he said. "There is a man whose dominions are opposite to mine, who is ever warring against me, and he is Havgan, a King of Annwvyn, and by ridding me of this oppression, which thou canst easily do, shalt thou gain my friendship." "Gladly will I do this," said he. "Show me how I may." "I will show thee. Behold thus it is thou mayest. I will make firm friendship with thee; and this will I do. I will send thee to Annwvyn in my stead, and I will give thee the fairest lady thou didst ever behold to be thy companion, and I will put my form and semblance upon thee, so that not a page of the chamber, nor an officer, nor any other man that has always followed me shall know that it is not I. And this shall be for the space of a year from to-morrow, and then we will meet in this place." "Yes," said he; "but when I shall have been there for the space of a year, by what means shall I discover him of whom thou speakest?" "One year from this night," he answered, "is the time fixed between him and me that we should meet at the Ford; be thou there in my likeness, and with one stroke that thou givest him, he shall no longer live. And if he ask thee to give him another, give it not, how much soever he may entreat thee, for when I did so, he fought with me next day as well as ever before." "Verily," said Pwyll, "what shall I do concerning my kingdom?" Said Arawn, "I will cause that no one in all thy dominions, neither man nor woman, shall know that I am not thou, and I will go there in thy stead." "Gladly then," said Pwyll, "will I set forward." "Clear shall be thy path and nothing shall detain thee, until thou come into my dominions, and I myself will be thy guide!"
So he conducted him until he came in sight of the palace and its dwellings. "Behold," said he, "the Court and the kingdom in thy power. Enter the Court, there is no one there who will know thee, and when thou seest what service is done there, thou wilt know the customs of the Court."
So he went forward to the Court, and when he came there, he beheld sleeping-rooms, and halls, and chambers, and the most beautiful buildings ever seen. And he went into the hall to disarray, and there came youths and pages and disarrayed him, and all as they entered saluted him. And two knights came and drew his hunting-dress from about him, and clothed him in a vesture of silk and gold. And the hall was prepared, and behold he saw the household and the host enter in, and the host was the most comely and the best equipped that he had ever seen. And with them came in likewise the Queen, who was the fairest woman that he had ever yet beheld. And she had on a yellow robe of shining satin; and they washed and went to the table, and sat, the Queen upon one side of him, and one who seemed to be an Earl on the other side.
And he began to speak with the Queen, and he thought, from her speech, that she was the seemliest and most noble lady of converse and of cheer that ever was. And they partook of meat, and drink, with songs and with feasting; and of all the Courts upon the earth, behold this was the best supplied with food and drink, and vessels of gold and royal jewels.
And the year he spent in hunting, and minstrelsy, and feasting, and diversions, and discourse with his companions until the night that was fixed for the conflict. And when that night came, it was remembered even by those who lived in the furthest part of his dominions, and he went to the meeting and the nobles of the kingdom with him. And when he came to the Ford, a knight arose and spake thus. "Lords," said he, "listen well. It is between two Kings that this meeting is, and between them only. Each claimeth of the other his land and territory, and do all of you stand aside and leave the fight to be between them."
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Post by Senbecc on May 6, 2006 1:40:07 GMT -5
Thereupon the two kings approached each other in the middle of the Ford, and encountered, and at the first thrust, the man who was in the stead of Arawn struck Havgan on the centre of the boss of his shield, so that it was cloven in twain, and his armour was broken, and Havgan himself was borne to the ground an arm's and a spear's length over the crupper of his horse, and he received a deadly blow. "0 Chieftain," said Havgan, "what right hast thou to cause my death? I was not injuring thee in anything, and I know not wherefore thou wouldest slay me. But, for the love of Heaven, since thou hast begun to slay me, complete thy work." "Ah Chieftain," he replied, "I may yet repent doing that unto thee, slay thee who may, I will not do so." "My trusty Lords," said Havgan, "bear me hence. My death has come. I shall be no more able to upheld you." "My Nobles," also said he who was in the semblance of Arawn, "take counsel and know who ought to be my subjects." "Lord," said the Nobles, "all should be, for there is no King over the whole of Annwvyn but thee." "Yes," he replied, "it is right that he who comes humbly should be received graciously, but he that doth not come with obedience, shall be compelled by the force
of swords." And thereupon he received the homage of the men, and he began to conquer the country; and the next day by noon the two kingdoms were in his power. And thereupon he went to keep his tryst, and came to Glyn Cuch.
And when he came there, the King of Annwvyn was there to meet him, and each of them was rejoiced to see the other. "Verily," said Arawn, "may Heaven reward thee for thy friendship towards me, I have heard of it. When thou comest thyself to thy dominions," said he, "thou wilt see that which I have done for thee." "Whatever thou hast done for me, may Heaven repay it thee."
Then Arawn gave to Pwyll Prince of Dyved his proper form and semblance, and he himself took his own; and Arawn set forth towards the Court of Annwvyn; and he was rejoiced when he beheld his hosts, and his household, whom he had not seen so long; but they had not known of his absence, and wondered no more at his coming than usual. And that day was spent in joy and merriment; and he sat and conversed with his wife and his nobles. And when it was time for them rather to sleep than to carouse, they went to rest.
Pwyll Prince of Dyved, came likewise to his country and dominions, and began to inquire of the nobles of the land, how his rule had been during the past year, compared with what it had been before. "Lord," said they, "thy wisdom was never so great, and thou wast never so kind or so free in bestowing thy gifts, and thy justice was never more worthily seen than in this year." "By heaven," said he, "for all the good you have enjoyed, you should thank him who hath been with you; for behold, thus hath this matter been." And thereupon Pwyll related the whole unto them. "Verily, Lord," said they, "render thanks unto Heaven that thou hast such a fellowship, and withhold not from us the rule which we have enjoyed for this year past." "I take Heaven to witness that I will not withhold it," answered Pwyll.
And thenceforth they made strong the friendship that was between them, and each sent unto the other horses, and greyhounds, and hawks, and all such jewels as they thought would be pleasing to each other. And by reason of his having dwelt that year in Annwvyn, and having ruled there so prosperously, and united the two kingdoms in one day by his valour and prowess, he lost the name of Pwyll Prince of Dyved, and was called Pwyll Chief of Annwvyn from that time forward.
Once upon a time, Pwyll was at Narberth his chief palace, where a feast had been prepared for him, and with him was a great host of men. And after the first meal, Pwyll arose to walk, and he went to the top of a mound that was above the palace, and was called Gorsedd Arberth. "Lord," said one of the Court, "it is peculiar to the mound that whosoever sits upon it cannot go thence, without either receiving wounds or blows, or else seeing a wonder." "I fear not to receive wounds and blows in the midst of such a host as this, but as to the wonder, gladly would I see it. I will go therefore and sit upon the mound."
And upon the mound he sat. And while he sat there, they saw a lady, on a pure white horse of large size, with a garment of shining gold around her, coming along the highway that led from the mound; and the horse seemed to move at a slow and even pace, and to be coming up towards the mound. "My men," said Pwyll, "is there any among you who knows yonder lady?" "There is not, Lord," said they. "Go one of you and meet her, that we may know who she is." And one of them arose, and as he came upon the road to meet her, she passed by, and he followed as fast as he could, being on foot; and the greater was his speed, the further was she from him. And when he saw that it profited him nothing to follow her, he returned to Pwyll, and said unto him, "Lord, it is idle for any one in the world to follow her on foot." "Verily," said Pwyll, "go unto the palace, and take the fleetest horse that thou seest, and go after her."
And he took a horse and went forward. And he came to an open level plain, and put spurs to his horse; and the more he urged his horse, the further was she from him. Yet she held the same pace as at first. And his horse began to fail; and when his horse's feet failed him, he returned to the place where Pwyll was. "Lord," said he, "it will avail nothing for any one to follow yonder lady. I know of no horse in these realms swifter than this, and it availed me not to pursue her." "Of a truth," said Pwyll, "there must be some illusion here. Let us go towards the palace." So to the palace they went, and they spent that day. And the next day they arose, and that also they spent until it was time to go to meat. And after the first meal, "Verily," said Pwyll, "we will go the same party as yesterday to the top of the mound. And do thou," said he to one of his young men, "take the swiftest horse that thou knowest in the field." And thus did the young man. And they went towards the mound, taking the horse with them. And as they were sitting down they beheld the lady on the same horse, and in the same apparel, coming along the same road. "Behold," said Pwyll, "here is the lady of yesterday. Make ready, youth, to learn who she is." "My Lord," said he, "that will I gladly do." And thereupon the lady came opposite to them. So the youth mounted his horse; and before he had settled himself in his saddle, she passed by, and there was a clear space between them. But her speed was no greater than it had been the day before. Then he put his horse into an amble, and thought that notwithstanding the gentle pace at which his horse went, he should soon overtake her. But this availed him not; so he gave his horse the reins. And still he came no nearer to her than when he went at a foot's pace. And the more he urged his horse, the further was she from him. Yet she rode not faster than before. When he saw that it availed not to follow her, he returned to the place where Pwyll was. "Lord," said he, "the horse can no more than thou hast seen." "I see indeed that it avails not that any one should follow her. And by Heaven," said he, "she must needs have an errand to some one in this plain, if her haste would allow her to declare it. Let us go back to the palace." And to the palace they went, and they spent that night in songs and feasting, as it pleased them.
And the next day they amused themselves until it was time to go to meat. And when meat was ended, Pwyll said, "Where are the hosts that went yesterday and the day before to the top of the mound?" "Behold, Lord, we are here," said they. "Let us go," said he, "to the mound, to sit there. And do thou," said he to the page who tended his horse, saddle my horse well, and hasten with him to the road, and bring also my spurs with thee." And the youth did thus. And they went and sat upon the mound; and ere they had been there but a short time, they beheld the lady coming by the same road, and in the same manner, and at the same pace. "Young man," said Pwyll, "I see the lady coming; give me my horse." And no sooner had he mounted his horse than she passed him. And he turned after her and followed her. And he let his horse go bounding playfully, and thought that at the second step or the third he should come up with her. But he came no nearer to her than at first. Then he urged his horse to his utmost speed, yet he found that it availed nothing to follow her. Then said Pwyll, "0 maiden, for the sake of him whom thou best lovest, stay for me." "I will stay gladly," said she, "and it were better for thy horse hadst thou asked it long since." So the maiden stopped, and she threw back that part of her head dress which covered her face. And she fixed her eyes upon him, and began to talk with him. "Lady," asked he, "whence comest thou, and whereunto dost thou journey?" "I journey on mine own errand," said she, "and right glad am I to see thee." "My greeting be unto thee," said he. Then he thought that the beauty of all the maidens, and all the ladies that he had ever seen, was as nothing compared to her beauty. "Lady," he said, "wilt thou tell me aught concerning thy purpose?" "I will tell thee," said she. "My chief quest was to seek thee." "Behold," said Pwyll, "this is to me the most pleasing quest on which thou couldst have come; and wilt thou tell me who thou art?" "I will tell thee, Lord," said she, "I am Rhiannon, the daughter of Heveydd Hen, and they sought to give me to a husband against my will. But no husband would I have, and that because of my love for thee, neither will I yet have one unless thou reject me. And hither have I come to hear thy answer." "By Heaven," said Pwyll, "behold this is my answer. If I might choose among all the ladies and damsels in the world, thee would I choose." "Verily," said she, "if thou art thus minded, make a pledge to meet me ere I am given to another." "The sooner I may do so, the more pleasing will it be unto me," said Pwyll, "and wheresoever thou wilt, there will I meet with thee." "I will that thou meet me this day twelvemonth at the palace of Heveydd. And I will cause a feast to be prepared, so that it be ready against thou come." "Gladly," said he, "will I keep this tryst." "Lord," said she, "remain in health, and be mindful that thou keep thy promise; and now will I go hence." So they parted, and be went back to his hosts and to them of his household. And whatsoever questions they asked him respecting the damsel, he always turned the discourse upon other matters.
And when a year from that time was gone, he caused a hundred knights to equip themselves and to go with him to the palace of Heveydd Hen. And he came to the palace, and there was great joy concerning him, with much concourse of people and great rejoicing, and vast preparations for his coming. And the whole Court was placed under his orders.
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Post by Senbecc on May 6, 2006 1:41:48 GMT -5
And the hall was garnished and they went to meat, and thus did they sit; Hevevdd Hen was on one side of Pwyll, and Rhiannon on the other. And all the rest according to their rank. And they ate and feasted and talked one with another, and at the beginning of the carousal after the meat, there entered a tall auburn-haired youth, of royal bearing, clothed in a garment of satin. And when he came into the hall, he saluted Pwyll and his companions. "The greeting of Heaven be unto thee, my soul," said Pwyll, "come thou and sit down." "Nay," said he, "a suitor am I, and I will do mine errand." "Do so willingly," said Pwyll. "Lord," said he, "my errand is unto thee, and it is to crave a boon of thee that I come." "What boon soever thou mayest ask of me, as far as I am able, thou shalt have." "Ah," said Rhiannon, "wherefore didst thou give that answer?" "Has he not given it before the presence of these nobles?" asked the youth. "My soul," said Pwyll, "what is the boon thou askest?" "The lady whom best I love is to be thy bride this night; I come to ask her of thee, with the feast and the banquet that are in this place." And Pwyll was silent because of the answer which he had given. "Be silent as long as thou wilt," said Rhiannon. "Never did man make worse use of his wits than thou hast done." "Lady," said be, "I knew not who he was." "Behold this is the man to whom they would have given me against my will," said she. "And he is Gwawl the son of Clud, a man of great power and wealth, and because of the word thou hast spoken, bestow me upon him lest shame befall thee." "Lady," said he, "I understand not thine answer. Never can I do as thou sayest." "Bestow me upon him," said she, "and I will cause that I shall never be his." "By what means will that be?" asked Pwyll. "In thy hand will I give thee a small bag," said she. "See that thou keep it well, and he will ask of thee the banquet, and the feast, and the preparations which are not in thy power. Unto the hosts and the household will I give the feast. And such will be thy answer respecting this. And as concerns myself, I will engage to become his bride this night twelvemonth. And at the end of the year be thou here," said she, "and bring this bag with thee, and let thy hundred knights be in the orchard up yonder. And when he is in the midst of joy and feasting., come thou in by thyself, clad in ragged garments, and holding thy bag in thy hand, and ask nothing but a bagful of food, and I will cause that if all the meat and liquor that are in these seven Cantrevs were put into it, it would be no fuller than before. And after a great deal has been put therein, he will ask thee whether thy bag will ever be fall. Say thou then that it never will, until a man of noble birth and of great wealth arise and press the food in the bag with both his feet, saying, 'Enough has been put therein;' and I will cause him to go and tread down the food in the bag, and when he does so, turn thou the bag, so that he shall be up over his head in it, and then slip a knot upon the thongs of the bag. Let there be also a good bugle horn about thy neck, and as soon as thou hast bound him in the bag, wind thy horn, and let it be a signal between thee and thy knights. And when they hear the sound of the horn, let them come down upon the palace." "Lord," said Gwawl, "it is meet that I have an answer to my request." "As much of that thou hast asked as it is in my power to give, thou shalt have," replied Pwyll. "My soul," said Rhiannon unto him, "as for the feast and the banquet that are here, I have bestowed them upon the men of Dyved., and the household, and the warriors that are with us. These can I not suffer to be given to any. In a year from tonight a banquet shall be prepared for thee in this palace, that I may become thy bride."
So Gwawl went forth to his possessions, and Pwyll went also back to Dyved. And they both spent that year until it was the time for the feast at the palace of Heveydd Hen. Then Gwawl the son of Clud set out to the feast that was prepared for him, and he came to the palace, and was received there with rejoicing. Pwyll, also, the chief of Annwn, came to the orchard with his hundred knights, as Rhiannon had commanded him, having the bag with him. And Pwyll was clad in coarse and ragged garments, and wore large clumsy old shoes upon his feet. And when he knew that the carousal after the meat had begun, he went towards the hall, and when he came into the hall, he saluted Gwawl the son of Clud, and his company, both men and women. "Heaven prosper thee," said Gwawl, "and the greeting of Heaven be unto thee." "Lord," said he, "may heaven reward thee, I have an errand unto thee." "Welcome be thine errand, and if thou ask of me that which is just, thou shalt have it gladly." "It is fitting," answered he. "I crave but from want, and the boon that I ask is to have this small bag that thou seest filled with meat." "A request within reason is this," said he, "and gladly shalt thou have it. Bring him food." A great number of attendants arose and began to fill the bag, but for all that they put into it, it was no fuller than at first. "My soul," said Gwawl, "will thy bag be ever full?" "It will not, I declare to Heaven," said he, "for all that may be put into it, unless one possessed of lands, and domains, and treasure, shall arise and tread down with both his feet the food that is within the bag, and shall say. 'Enough has been put herein.'" Then said Rhiannon unto Gwawl the son of Clud, "Rise up quickly." "I will willingly arise," said he. So he rose up, and put his two feet into the bag. And Pwyll turned up the sides of the bag, so that Gwawl was over his head in it. And he shut it up quickly and slipped a knot upon the thongs, and blew his horn. And thereupon behold his household came down upon the palace. And they seized all the host that had come with Gwawl, and cast them into his own prison. And Pwyll threw off his rags, and his old shoes, and his tattered array; and as they came in, every one of Pwyll's knights struck a blow upon the bag, and asked, "What is here?" "A Badger," said they. And in this manner they played, each of them striking the bag, either with his foot or with a staff. And thus played they with the bag. Every one as he came in asked, "What game are you playing at thus?" "The game of Badger in the Bag," said they. And then was the game of Badger in the Bag first played.
"Lord," said the man in the bag, "if thou wouldest but hear me, I merit not to be slain in a bag." Said Heveydd Hen, "Lord, he speaks truth. It were fitting that thou listen to him, for he deserves not this." "Verily," said Pwyll, " I will do thy counsel concerning him." "Behold this is my counsel then," said Rhiannon; "thou art now in a position in which it behoves thee to satisfy suitors and minstrels, let him give unto them in thy stead, and take a pledge from him that he will never seek to revenge that which has been done to him. And this will be punishment enough." "I will do this gladly," said the man in the bag. "And gladly will I accept it," said Pwyll, "since it is the counsel of Heveydd and Rhiannon." "Such then is our counsel," answered they. "I accept it," said Pwyll. "Seek thyself sureties." "We will be for him," said Heveydd, "until his men be free to answer for him." And upon this he was let out of the bag, and his liegemen were liberated. Demand now of Gwawl his sureties," said Heveydd, "we know which should be taken for him." And Heveydd numbered the sureties. Said Gwawl, "Do thou thyself draw up the covenant." "It will suffice me that it be as Rhiannon said," answered Pwyll. So unto that covenant were the sureties pledged. "Verily, Lord," said Gwawl, "I am greatly hurt, and I have many bruises. I have need to be anointed, with thy leave I will go forth. I will leave nobles in my stead, to answer for me in all that thou shalt require." "Willingly," said Pwyll, "mayest thou do thus." So Gwawl went towards his own possessions.
And the hall was set in order for Pwll and the men of his host, and for them also of the palace, and they went to the tables and sat down. And as they had sat that time twelvemonth, so sat they that night. And they ate, and feasted, and spent the night in mirth and tranquillity. And the time came that they should sleep, and Pwyll and Rhiannon went to their chamber.
And next morning at the break of day, "My Lord," said Rhiannon, "arise and begin to give thy gifts unto the minstrels. Refuse no one to-day that may claim thy bounty."
Thus shall it be gladly," said Pwyll, "both to-day and every day while the feast shall last." So Pwyll arose, and he caused silence to be proclaimed, and desired all the suitors and the minstrels to show and to point out what gifts were to their wish and desire. And this being done, the feast went on, and he denied no one while it lasted. And when the feast was ended, Pwyll said unto Heveydd, "My Lord, with thy permission I will set out for Dyved to-morrow." "Certainly," said Heveydd, "may Heaven prosper thee. Fix also a time when Rhiannon may follow thee." "By Heaven," said Pwyll, "we will go hence together." "Willest thou this, Lord?" said Heveydd. "Yes, by Heaven," answered Pwyll.
And the next day, they set forward towards Dyved, and journeyed to the palace of Narberth, where a feast was made ready for them. And there came to them great numbers of the chief men and the most noble ladies of the land, and of these there was none to whom Rhiannon did not give some rich gift, either a bracelet, or a ring, or a precious stone. And they ruled the land prosperously both that year and the next.
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Post by Senbecc on May 6, 2006 1:44:18 GMT -5
And in the third year the nobles of the land began to be sorrowful at seeing a man whom they loved so much, and who was moreover their lord and their foster-brother, without an heir. And they came to him. And the place where they met was Preseleu, in Dyved. "Lord," said they, "we know that thou art not so young as some of the men of this country, and we fear that thou mayest not have an heir of the wife whom thou hast taken. Take therefore another wife of whom thou mayest have heirs. Thou canst not always continue with us, and though thou desire to remain as thou art, we will not suffer thee." "Truly," said Pwyll, "we have not long been joined together, and many things may yet befall. Grant me a year from this time, and for the space of a year we will abide together, and after that I will do according to your wishes." So they granted it. And before the end of a year a son was born unto him. And in Narberth was he born; and on the night that he was born, women were brought to watch the mother and the boy. And the women slept, as did also Rhiannon, the mother of the boy. And the number of the women that were brought into the chamber was six. And they watched for a good portion of the night, and before midnight every one of them fell asleep, and towards break of day they awoke; and when they awoke, they looked where they had put the boy, and behold he was not there. "Oh," said one of the women, "the boy is lost!" "Yes," said another, "and it will be small vengeance if we are burnt or put to death because of the child." Said one of the women, "Is there any counsel for us in the world in this matter ?" "There is," answered another, "I offer you good counsel." "What is that?" asked they. "There is here a stag-hound bitch, and she has a litter of whelps. Let us kill some of the cubs, and rub the blood on the face and hands of Rhiannon, and lay the bones before her, and assert that she herself hath devoured her son, and she alone will not be able to gainsay us six." And according to this counsel it was settled. And towards morning Rhiannon awoke, and she said, "Women, where is my son?" "Lady," said they, "ask us not concerning thy son, we have nought but the blows and the bruises we got by struggling with thee, and of a truth we never saw any woman so violent as thou, for it was of no avail to contend with thee. Hast thou not thyself devoured thy son? Claim him not therefore of us." "For pity's sake," said Rhiannon; "the Lord God knows all things. Charge me not falsely. If you tell me this from fear, I assert before Heaven that I will defend you." "Truly," said they, "we would not bring evil on ourselves for anyone in the world." "For pity's sake," said Rhiannon, "you will receive no evil by telling the truth." But for all her words, whether fair or harsh, she received but the same answer from the women. And Pwyll the chief of Annwvyn arose, and his household, and his hosts. And this occurrence could not be concealed, but the story went forth throughout the land, and all the nobles heard it. Then the nobles came to Pwyll, and besought him to put away his wife, because of the great crime which she had done. But Pwyll answered them, that they had no cause wherefore they might ask him to put away his wife, save for her having no children. "But children has she now had, therefore will I not put her away; if she has done wrong, let her do penance for it." So Rhiannon sent for the teachers and the wise men, and as she preferred doing penance to contending with the women, she took upon her a penance. And the penance that was imposed upon her was, that she should remain in that palace of Narberth until the end of seven years, and that she should sit, every day near unto a horse-block that was without the gate. And that she should relate the story to all who should come there, whom she might suppose not to know it already; and that she should offer the guests and strangers, if they would permit her, to carry them upon her back into the palace. Bat it rarely happened that any would permit. And thus did she spend part of the year. Now at that time Teirnyon Twryv Vliant was Lord of Gwent Is Coed, and he was the best man in the world. And unto his house there belonged a mare, than which neither mare nor horse in the kingdom was more beautiful. And on the night of every first of May she foaled, and no one ever knew what became of the colt. And one night Teirnyou talked with his wife: "Wife," said he, "it is very simple of us that our mare should foal every year, and that we should have none of her colts." "What can be done in the matter?" said she. "This is the night of the first of May," said he. "The vengeance of Heaven be upon me, if I learn not what it is that takes away the colts." So he caused the mare to be brought into a house, and he armed himself, and began to watch that night. And in the beginning of the night, the mare foaled a large and beautiful colt. And it was standing up in the place. And Teirnyon rose up and looked at the size of the colt, and as he did so he heard a great tumult, and after the tumult behold a claw came through the window into the house, and it seized the colt by the mane. Then Tiernyon drew his sword, and struck off the arm at the elbow, so that portion of the arm together with the colt was in the house with him. And then did he hear a tumult and wailing, both at once. And he opened the door, and rushed out in the direction of the noise, and he could not see the cause of the tumult because of the darkness of the night, but he rushed after it and followed it. Then he remembered that he had left the door open, and he returned. And at the door behold there was an infant boy in swaddling-clothes, wrapped around in a mantle of satin. And he took up the boy, and behold he was very strong for the age that he was of. Then he shut the door, and went into the chamber where his wife was. "Lady," said he, "art thou sleeping?" "No, lord," said she, "I was asleep, but as thou camest in I did awake." "Behold, here is a boy for thee if thou wilt," said he, "since thou hast never had one." "My lord," said she, "what adventure is this?" "It was thus," said Teirnyon; and he told her how it all befell. "Verily, lord," said she, "what sort of garments are there upon the boy?" "A mantle of satin," said he. "He is then a boy of gentle lineage," she replied. "My lord," she said, "if thou wilt, I shall have great diversion and mirth. I will call my women unto me, and tell them that I have been pregnant." "I will readily grant thee to do this," he answered. And thus did they, and they caused the boy to be baptized, and the ceremony was performed there; and the name which they gave unto him, was Gwri Wallt Euryn, because what hair was upon his head was as yellow as gold. And they had the boy nursed in the court until he was a year old. And before the year was over he could walk stoutly. And he was larger than a boy of three years old, even one of great growth and size. And the boy was nursed the second year, and then he was as large as a child six years old. And before the end of the fourth year, he would bribe the grooms to allow him to take the horses to water. "My lord," said his wife unto Teirnyon, "where is the colt which thou didst save on the night that thou didst find the boy?" "I have commanded the grooms of the horses," said he, "that they take care of him." Would it not be well, lord," said she, "if thou wert to cause him to be broken in, and given to the boy, seeing that on the same night that thou didst find the boy, the colt was foaled and thou didst save him?" "I will not oppose thee in this matter," said Teirnyon. "I will allow thee to give him the colt." "Lord," said she, "may Heaven reward thee; I will give it him." So the horse was given to the boy. Then she went to the grooms and those who tended the horses, and commanded them to be careful of the horse, so that he might be broken in by the time that the boy could ride him. And while these things were going forward, they heard tidings of Rhiannon and her punishment. And Teirnyon Twryv Vliant, by reason of the pity that he felt on hearing this story of Rhiannon and her punishment, inquired closely concerning it, until he had heard from many of those who came to his court. Then did Teirnyon, often lamenting the sad history, ponder within himself, and he looked steadfastly on the boy, and as he looked upon him, it seemed to him that he had never beheld so great a likeness between father and son, as between the boy, and Pwyll, the chief of Annwvyn. Now the semblance of Pwyll was well known to him, for he had of yore been one of his followers. And thereupon he became grieved for the wrong that he did, in keeping with him a boy whom he knew to be the son of another man. And the first time that he was alone with his wife, he told her that it was not right that they should keep the boy with them, and suffer so excellent a lady as Rhiannon to be punished so greatly on his account, whereas the boy was the son of Pwyll, the chief of Annwvyn. And Teirnyon's wife agreed with him, that they should send the boy to Pwyll. "And three things, lord," said she, " shall we gain thereby. Thanks and gifts for releasing Rhiannon from her punishment; and thanks from Pwyll for nursing his son and restoring him unto him; and thirdly, if the boy is of gentle nature, he will be our foster-son, and he will do for us all the good in his power." So it was settled according to this counsel. And no later than the next day was Teirnyon equipped, and two other knights with him. And the boy, as a fourth in their company, went with them upon the horse which Teirnyon had given him. And they journeyed towards Narberth, and it was not long before they reached that place. And as they drew near to the palace, they beheld Rhiannon sitting beside the horse-block. And when they were opposite to her, "Chieftain," said she, "go not further thus, I will bear every one of you into the palace, and this is my penance for slaying my own son and devouring him." "Oh, fair lady," said Teirnyon, "think not that I will be one to be carried upon thy back." "Neither will I," said the boy. "Truly, my soul," said Teirnyon, "we will not go." So they went forward to the palace, and there was great joy at their coming. And at the palace a feast was prepared, because Pwyll was come back from the confines of Dyved. And they went into the hall and washed, and Pwyll rejoiced to see Teirnyon. And in this order they sat. Teirnyon between Pwyll and Rhiannon, and Teirnyon's two companions on the other side of Pwyll, with the boy between them. And after meat they began to carouse and to discourse. And Teirnyon's discourse was concerning the adventure of the mare and the boy, and how he and his wife had nursed and reared the child as their own. "And behold here is thy son, lady," said Teirnyon. "And whosoever told that lie concerning thee, has done wrong. And when I heard of thy sorrow, I was troubled and grieved. And I believe that there is none of this host, who will not perceive that the boy is the son of Pwyll," said Teirnyon. "There is none," said they all, "who is not certain thereof." "I declare to Heaven," said Rhiannon, "that if this be true, there is indeed an end to my trouble." "Lady," said Pendaran Dyved, "well hast thou named thy son Pryderi,* and well becomes him the name of Pryderi son of Pwyll, Chief of Annwvyn." "Look you," said Rhiannon, "will no this own name become him better?" "What name has he?" asked Pendaran Dyved. "Gwri Wallt Euryn, is the name that we gave him." "Pryderi," said Pendaran, shall his name be." "It were more proper," said Pwyll, "that the boy should take his name from the word his mother spoke when she received the joyful tidings of him." And thus was it arranged. "Teirnyon," said Pwyll, "Heaven reward thee that thou hast reared the boy up to this time, and, being of gentle lineage, it were fitting that he repay thee for it." "My lord," said Teirnyon, "it was my wife who nursed him, and there is no one in the world so afflicted as she at parting with him. It were well that he should bear in mind what I and my wife have done for him." "I call Heaven to witness," said Pwyll, "that while I live I will support thee and thy possessions, as long as I am able to preserve my own. And when he shall have power, he will more fitly maintain them than I. And if this counsel be pleasing unto thee, and to my nobles, it shall be that, as thou hast reared him up to the present time, I wilI give him to be brought up by Pendaran Dyved, from henceforth. And you shall be companions, and shall both be foster-fathers unto him." "This is good counsel," said they all. So the boy was given to Pendaran Dyved, and the nobles of the land were sent with him. And Teirnyon Twryv Vliant, and his companions, set out for his country, and his possessions, with love and gladness. And he went not without being offered the fairest jewels and the fairest horses, and the choicest dogs; but he would take none of them. Thereupon they all remained in their own dominions. And Pryderi, the son of Pwyll the Chief of Annwvyn, was brought up carefully as was fit, so that he became the fairest youth, and the most comely, and the best skilled in all good games, of any in the kingdom. And thus passed years and years, until the end of Pwyll the Chief of Annwvyn's life came, and he died. And Pryderi ruled the seven Cantrevs of Dyved prosperously, and he was beloved by his people, and by all around him. And at length he added unto them the three Cantrevs of Ystrad Tywi, and the four Cantrevs of Cardigan; and these were called the Seven Cantrevs of Seissyllwch. And when he made this addition, Pryderi the son of Pwyll the Chief of Annwvyn, desired to take a wife. And the wife he chose was Kicva, the daughter of Gwynn Gohoyw, the son of Gloyw Wlallt Lydan, the son of Prince Casnar, one of the nobles of this Island. And thus ends this portion of the Mabinogion. www.ancienttexts.org/library/celtic/welsh/mab/pwyll.html
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Post by Marcus on May 6, 2006 13:08:37 GMT -5
I remember i spent i fortune buying this book when i found a REALLY old hardback copy in a local 2nd hand book store. It is a great collection of stoires allthough i still havent got around to reading it all yet. The Irish play intersting parts in some of those stories lol
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Post by Senbecc on May 6, 2006 13:22:12 GMT -5
I remember i spent i fortune buying this book when i found a REALLY old hardback copy in a local 2nd hand book store. It is a great collection of stoires allthough i still havent got around to reading it all yet. The Irish play intersting parts in some of those stories lol That we do...I was thinking we may need a "celtic bards" corner for some of these long stories. I've already read the second battle of moytura 3 times since I posted it. Granted it's shortened from it's original version, but it's still a pretty darn good story.
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Post by Senbecc on May 6, 2006 13:24:53 GMT -5
Marcus if you happen to run into any good Scottish stories let me know...Or post them. I haven't had a chance to look yet...But I'm kinda in the dark on the Scotts...Don't really know where to start with em.
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Post by Marcus on May 6, 2006 13:32:51 GMT -5
Marcus if you happen to run into any good Scottish stories let me know...Or post them. I haven't had a chance to look yet...But I'm kinda in the dark on the Scotts...Don't really know where to start with em. The scotts are great but i think less is known of them because the Romans where unable to beat the picts haha!! They didnt learn as much about them except for their battle tactics. I will post what i find.
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Post by Senbecc on May 24, 2006 17:20:57 GMT -5
Marcus if you happen to run into any good Scottish stories let me know...Or post them. I haven't had a chance to look yet...But I'm kinda in the dark on the Scotts...Don't really know where to start with em. The scotts are great but i think less is known of them because the Romans where unable to beat the picts haha!! They didnt learn as much about them except for their battle tactics. I will post what i find. You did pretty good with that last post...I'm going to start studying the Picts and see what I can come up with on the subject.
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Post by Marcus on May 25, 2006 16:28:41 GMT -5
The scotts are great but i think less is known of them because the Romans where unable to beat the picts haha!! They didnt learn as much about them except for their battle tactics. I will post what i find. You did pretty good with that last post...I'm going to start studying the Picts and see what I can come up with on the subject. Its hard to find alot of info about them. There are just a handful of poems here and there. The most thing we know about the picts is their warfare because the Romans just couldnt understand how they where getting their arses kicked!! haha ;D
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Post by wren on Sept 25, 2006 12:12:17 GMT -5
The Mabinogi of Math
Math son of Mathonwy was lord of Gwynedd, and Pryderi was lord of the twenty-one cantrefs in the South. Those were the seven cantrefs of Dyfed, seven of Morganog, four of Ceredigion and three of Ystrad Tywi.
At that time, Math son of Mathonwy could not live except when he had his feet enfolded in the lap of a maiden, unless the commotion of war prevented him. The maiden that was with him was Goewin daughter of Pebin of Dol Pebin in Arfon. She was the most beautiful woman known in her day.
Caer Dathyl was his constant abode. He could not do the circuit of the land, but Gilfaethwy son of Don and Gwydion son of Don – his nephews, sons of his sister, and the household with them – would go on the circuit on his behalf.
The maiden was with Math all of the time, but Gilfaethwy set his heart on the maiden, and loved her so much that there was nothing he could do because of her. And lo! his colour, his face and his demeanour wasting away from his love, until he could hardly be recognised.
One day Gwydion looked hard at his brother.
‘Lad,’ said he ‘what has happened to you?’
‘Why?’ said the other ‘what is it that you can see on me?’
‘I can see on you that you have lost your spirit and your colour,’ he replied ‘[so] what has happened to you?’
‘Lord brother,’ he said ‘it would not be fruitful for me to tell anyone what has happened to me.’
‘What is it, friend?’
‘You know,’ he said ‘the ability of Math son of Mathonwy: whatever whisper, however small, that there might be between people, once the wind has met it, he will know it.’
‘Aye,’ said Gwydion ‘Speak no further. I know your mind: you are in love with Goewin.’
When he knew his brother recognised his mind, he gave the heaviest sigh in the world.
‘Be quiet, friend, with your sighing. No-one wins from doing that. Since it cannot be done without it, I will arrange a mustering of Gwynedd, Powys and Deheuparth, so that the maiden might be had. So be happy – I will arrange it for you.’
At that they went to Math son of Mathonwy.
‘Lord,’ said Gwydion ‘I have heard that a [certain] type of creature has come into the South, which has never come to this Island before.’
‘What is their name?’ asked the other.
‘“Hogs”, Lord.’
‘What kind of animals are those?’
‘Small animals, their meat is better than the meat of oxen. They are small and they are changing names. “Pigs” is what they are called nowadays.’
‘To whom do they belong?’
‘Pryderi son of Pwyll, sent to him from Annwfn by Arawn king of Annwfn.’
(And still [to this day] that [name] is preserved [in the expression]: ‘half sow, half hog.’)
‘Aye,’ he replied ‘by what means will you get them?’
‘I will go in a group of twelve, in the guise of bards, Lord, to ask for the pigs.’
‘And what if he refuses you?’
‘Not bad is my plan, Lord,’ said he ‘I will not come [back] without the pigs.’
‘Go to it [then], gladly,’ he replied.
He went, with Gilfaethwy and ten men with them, to Ceredigion – to the place that is nowadays called Rhuddlan Teifi. There was a court of Pryderi’s there, and they went in, in the guise of bards. There was joy at ther arrival. Gwydion was placed next to Pryderi that night.
‘Aye,’ said Pryderi ‘it would be good for us to get a tale from some of those young men yonder.’
‘It is our custom, Lord’ said Gwydion ‘that the first night one comes to a great man, [there should be] a recital from the chief bard. I will gladly recite a tale.’
Gwydion himself was the best cyfarwyd in the world. And that night he delighted the court with entertaining recitals and story-telling, until he was feted by the whole court, and it was with pleasure that Pryderi conversed with him. And at the end of that [he spoke]:
‘Lord,’ he asked ‘is there anyone would present my petition to you better than me myself?
‘There would be none better [than you],’ answered the other ‘your’s is a right good tongue!’
‘Here is my petition, Lord: to ask you for the animals which were sent to you from Annwfn.’
‘Aye,’ he replied ‘that would be the easiest thing in the world if it were not for an agreement between me and my country over them: that is, they are not to leave me until they have bred twice their number in the land.’
‘Lord,’ said the other ‘I can free you from those words. This is how I’ll do it: don’t give me the pigs tonight, but don’t refuse them to me either. Tomorrow I will show you [something you can] exchange them for.’
That night he and his companions went to their lodging to take counsel.
‘Men,’ said he ‘we will not get the pigs by asking for them.’
‘Aye,’ said they ‘what ploy [can there be there] for their acquistion?’
‘I will arrange their acquistion,’ assured Gwydion.
And then he performed his arts and began to reveal his magic. He conjured up twelve steeds, twelve grey-hounds (each of them black, with a white breast) with twelve collars and twelve leashes on them. Anyone seeing any of [them] would not know they were not of gold; and twelve saddles on the horses: and wherever there would normally be iron on them, it was all gold, and the bridles were of the same workmanship as that.
He came to Pryderi with the horses and the dogs.
‘Good day to you, Lord,’ said he.
‘God give well to you,’ he replied ‘and welcome.’
‘Lord,’ he said ‘here is a way out for you from the word you said last night about the pigs – that you might not give or sell them. But you would be able to exchange them for [that which] might be better… I will give you these twelve horses – equipped as they are with their saddles and their bridles – and twelve grey-hounds with their collars and leashes, just as you see, with the twelve golden shields you can see over there.’ (Those he had made by magic out of a toadstool).
‘Aye,’ said he ‘we will take counsel.’
And what was decided in that counsel was to give the pigs to Gwydion, and to take [in return] the horses, the dogs and the shields that he had.
[The others] for their part took their leave, and began herding off the pigs.
‘O brave ones,’ said Gwydion ‘we need to move more swiftly.. The magic will not last from one day to the next.’
That night they made it as far as the uplands of Ceredigion – and the place [where they stopped] is still called ‘Mochdref’ because of that. The next day they went on their way [and] they came through Elenid. That night they were between Keri and Arwystli, in a township that is also called ‘Mochtref’ for that reason. And thense they went onwards, and that night they came to a commote in Powys which is likewise called ‘Mochnant’ after that incident, and they were there for the night. And from there they went on as far as the cantref of Rhos, and there they were that night in a town still known as ‘Mochtref’.
‘Men,’ said Gwydion ‘we will make for the fastness of Gwynedd with these animals. There is an angry mustering behind us .’
They made for the highest township of Arllechwedd, and there they made a sty for the pigs, and for that reason the name ‘Creuwyryon’ was given to that township. And then, when they had finished the pig-sty, they went over to Math son of Mathonwy, over in Caer Dathyl. When they got there the land was in turmoil.
‘What news is there in here?’ asked Gwydion.
‘Pryderi is mustering the twenty-one cantrefs after you,’ they repied ‘the only strange thing is how long its taken you!’
‘Where are the animals you went after?’ asked Math.
‘They are in a sty which has been made for them in the cantref below.’
At that, lo! they heard the sound of trumpets and a mustering throughout the land. At that they too armed themselves and went forth until they reached Pennard in Arfon.
That night, Gwydyon son of Don and Gilfaethwy his brother returned to Caer Dathyl. And in the bed of Math, Goewin daughter of Pebin was put to sleep with Gilfaethwy, and the maidens were forced out rudely, and she was slept with against her will that night.
When they saw the day dawning, they made for the place where Math son of Mathonwy was with his war-band. When they arrived, those men were on their way to a council about on which flank they should wait for Pryderi and the men of the South. And they joined in that counsel. What they decided in their counsel was to remain the fastness of Gwynedd in Arfon. And between two fortresses they waited: Maynawr Bennard and Maynawr Coet Alun.
Pryderi advanced towards them there, and there the battle was. There was great slaughter on both sides, and the men of the South had to retreat. The place to which they retreated up to was a place that is still called ‘Nant Call’, and they were harried as far as there. Then there was an immeasurable conflict. They then retreated to a place called Dol Penmaen. Then they rallied and sought to make a truce – and Pryderi gave hostages [in return] for peace. This is who he gave: Gwrgi Gwasta and twenty-three sons of noblemen.
After that, they went in peace as far as Traeth Mawr; and as they came up to Uelen Rhyd together, the foot soldiers could not be stopped from firing at each other. Messengers were sent from Pryderi to ask for the two war-bands to be called off, and to ask for it to be left between himself and Gwydion son of Don: since he had caused it [in the first place]. The message came to Math son of Mathonwy.
‘Aye,’ said Math ‘between myself and God, if it is good with Gwydion, I will allow it gladly. I will not compel anyone to come to combat without doing all we can.’
‘God knows,’ said the messenger ‘Pryderi thinks its fair [that] the man who did this wrong to him should pit his body against him, and leave the two hosts in peace.
‘I swear by my confession to God,’ [said Gwydion] ‘I will not send the men of Gwynedd to war on my behalf. I myself will go to combat with Pryderi. I will pit my body against his gladly.’ That [reply] was sent to Pryderi.
‘Aye,’ said Pryderi ‘I too will not ask my rights of anyone but myself.’
Those two men were put opposite one another, they were armed, and [then] they went into combat. Through strength and valour and aggression and magic and enchantment Gwydion prevailed, and Pryderi was killed. He was buried at Maen Tyuynawc, above Uelen Rhyd, and there his grave is [still].
The men of the South went back to their country with grievous lamentation – and nor was that surprising: they had lost their lord and many of their best men, and their horses and their weapons, for the most part.
The men of Gwynedd returned again in triumphant joy.
‘Lord,’ said Gwydion to Math ‘would it not be right for us to release their nobleman to the men of the South, the one that they gave as a hostage to secure the peace? We don’t need to keep him [any longer].’
‘Set him free,’ said Math.
That man, and the hostages that were with him, were allowed [to follow] on after the men of the South
For his part, Math made for Caer Dathyl. Gilfaethwy son of Don and the household that was with him toured the circuit of Gwynedd as was their wont – but without coming to court. Math made for his chamber, and ordered the preparation of a place for him to recline, so he could place his feet in the fold of a virgin’s lap.
‘Lord,’ said Goewin ‘you must seek a virgin to go under your feet now. I am woman.’
‘What is the explanation of that?’
‘An attack, Lord, was committed upon my person – quite openly – and I myself did not stay silent. There is no-one in this court who wouldn’t have known about it. It was your nephews who came, Lord, sons of your sister: Gwydion son of Don and Gilfaethwy son of Don. They committed an assault on me and an insult upon you. They slept with me – and they did that in your chamber and in your bed.’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘This is what I can [do]. I will first get justice for you, and after that I will get justice for myself,’ he continued ‘ as for you, I will take you as my wife, and I will give the power of my country into your hands.’
And meanwhile [Gwydion and Gilfaethwy] did not come into the vicinity of the court, but rather carried on the circuit until a ban on food and drink went out against them. At first they did not come near him – then eventually they did.
‘Lord,’ said they ‘a good day to you.’
‘Aye,’ he replied ‘is it to render me justice you have come?’
‘Lord, we are at your will.’
‘If it had been my will, I would not have lost the men and arms that I lost. You are not able to compensate my shame, let alone the death of Pryderi. But since you have both come to my will, I will begin a punishment for you.’
Then he took his magic wand and struck Gilfaethwy, turning him into a sizable hind. He seized the [Gwydion] quickly – and though he would have liked to escape, he was not able. He was struck with the same magic wand, turning him into a stag.
‘Since you have been in league together, I will make you fare together and be mated. You will have the same nature as the beasts whose shapes you are in; and during this time, they will have offspring – so you will have them too. A year from today, come to me here.’
After a year to the day, lo! he could hear an uproar below the wall of the chamber, with the dogs of the court barking on top of that uproar.
‘[Go and] see what’s outside.’ said he.
‘Lord,’ someone said ‘ I have looked. There is a stag and a hind and a fawn with them.’
At that, he arose and came outside. When he came, what he could see was the three creatures. The three creatures were a stag, a hind and sturdy fawn. He raised up his wand.
‘The one that was a hind for the last year, let him be a wild boar this year. And the one of you that was a stag, let him be a wild sow.’
And with that, he struck them both with the wand.
‘The boy, however, I will take, and have him raised and baptized.’
He was given the name ‘Hydwn’.
‘As for you [two], begone. One of you be a wild boar, the other a wild sow. And the nature that is in wild swine, that is what you will be [like]. A year from today, be here outside the wall, and your offspring with you.’
At the end of the year, lo! they heard barking below the wall of the chamber, and the court stirred-up in response. At that, he arose and went outside. When he came outside, he could see three creatures. The kind of creatures he could see were a wild boar, a wild sow and a fine little piglet with them. And it was big for its age.
‘Aye,’ he said ‘I will take this one myself, and have him baptized.’
He struck it with his wand: turning it into a handsome, red-haired boy. He was given the name ‘Hychdwn’.
‘And you, the one who was a wild boar for the last year, let him be a she-wolf this year, and the one that was a sow last year, let him be a wolf this year.’
Thereupon, they were struck with the wand, turning them into a wolf and she-wolf.
‘And the nature of the animals in whose shape you are, let that be yours. Be here a year from today, at the bottom of this wall.’
The same day one year later, lo! he could hear an uproar and barking below the wall of the chamber. He went outside, and when he came he could see a wolf, a she-wolf and a sturdy wolf-cub with them.
‘I will take this one,’ he said ‘ and have him baptized; and there’s already a name for him: that is “Bleidwn”. The three boys are yours, and they are:
Three sons of Gilfaethwy the False –
Three warriors true
Bleidwn, Hydwn and Hychdwn the Tall
At that, he struck both of them with the magic wand, returning the back to their own flesh
‘Men,’ he said ‘for the injury you inflicted on me, you have had enough punishment. You have incurred great shame – each of you having borne children from the other. Prepare a bath, and wash their heads, and have them arrayed.’ And that was done for them.. II
After they had been arrayed, they came to him.
‘Men,’ he said ‘you have got peace, and you will get friendship. Give me counsel on what maiden I should take.’
‘Lord,’ said Gwydion ‘there is a simple answer to that. Aranrhod, daughter of Don, your niece – daughter of your sister.’
She was brought to him. The maiden came inside.
‘Maiden,’ he said ‘are you [still] a maiden?’
‘I know no reason why I should not be.’
Then he took the magic wand and bent it.
‘Step over this,’ he said ‘and if you are a maiden, I will know it.’
Then she stepped over the magic wand, and in that step she dropped a large boy with curly yellow hair. What the boy did was give a loud cry. After the boy’s cry, she made for the door, and in the process a little something [dropped] from her. Before anyone could get second look of it, Gwydion picked it up and wrapped a sheet of brocaded silk around it, and hid it away. [The place] where he hid it was in a small chest at the foot of his bed.
‘Aye,’ said [Math son of] Mathonwy about the curly yellow haired boy ‘I will have this one baptized. The name I will give [him] is Dylan.’
The boy was baptized, and as soon, as he was baptized he made for the sea. And there, as soon as he came to the sea, he took the nature of the sea. He could swim as well as the best fish in the sea, and for that reason he was called ‘Dylan Prince of the Wave’. No wave ever broke beneath him. The blow by which his death was came to him was cast by Govannon, his uncle. And that was one of the Three Ill-Fated Blows.
As Gwydion was waking up in his bed one day, he heard a cry in the chest at his feet. Although it wasn’t loud, it loud enough for him to hear it. He quickly got up and opened the chest. As he opened it, he could see a little boy thrusting his arms out of the folds of the sheet, pushing it away. He took the boy between his hands, and made for the township with him, where he knew there was a woman with [milk in her] breasts. He made a deal a woman to nurture the boy. The boy was reared for that year. And [he grew so fast that] after the period of a year, they would have been impressed by his size even if he had been two years old.
[By] the next year old he was a large boy, and able to go to the court by himself. Gwydion, for his part, acknowledged him when he came to court. And the boy got to know him, and loved him more than any other person. The boy was then raised in the court until he was four years old. And it would have been impressive if a boy of eight years old had been as large as him.
One day, he followed Gwydion outside for a walk. What he did was make for Caer Aranrhod, together with the boy. After his arrival at the court, Aranrhod got up to meet him and make him welcome.
‘God give well to you,’ said he.
‘Who is that boy following you?’
‘This boy is a boy of yours.’
‘Alas, man! What has come over you, shaming me [like this], and continuing my shame, and keeping it with you for as long as this?’
‘If your shame is nothing more than my having reared a boy this fine, then a small thing is your shame.’
‘What is the name of your boy?’ said she.
‘God knows,’ said he ‘there is no name upon him yet.’
‘Aye,’ said she ‘I will swear an oath upon him: he will not get a name until he gets it from me.’
‘I swear to God by my confession,’ said he ‘you are a wretched woman! The boy will get a name, even if it is evil to you. And you,’ he continued ‘because of him grief [is] upon you: you are not called a maiden, and will never be called a maiden again!’
At that, he walked off in a fury, and made for Caer Dathyl – and was there for the night.
The next day he arose, and taking his boy with him went on a walk beside the ocean, between there and Aber Menei. And wherever he saw dulse and sea-girdle, he conjured up a ship. And out of sea-weed and dulse, he conjured dovan leather – and plenty of it – and dappled them, so that no-one had ever seen leather more beautiful than that. And at that, he arrayed a sail on the ship, and came, he and the boy in the boat, to the threshold of the gate of Caer Aranrhod.
When he realised he had been seen from caer, he took away their own appearance, and placed a different appearance upon them – so that they would not be recognised
‘What people are in the boat? asked Aranrhod.
‘Shoe-makers,’ said they.
‘Go and see what kind of leather they have, and what kind of work they do,’ said she.
Then they came up to him, and when they came, he was [busy] dappling the dovan – in gold. The messengers went back and related that to her.
‘Aye,’ said she ‘take the measure of my foot, and ask the shoe-makers to make me [some] shoes.’
For his part, [Gwydion] cut out the shoes – not to measure, but too big instead. The shoes came to her. And, sure enough, the shoes were too big.
‘These are too big,’ said she ‘he will get payment for them, but let him also make some that are smaller.’
What he did was make some others that were very much smaller than her foot, and sent them to her.
‘Tell him that not one of these [pairs of] shoes fits me.’
That was told to him.
‘Aye,’ he replied ‘I won’t fashion the shoes for her until I can see her foot.’
That was said to her.
‘Aye,’ said she ‘I will go out to him.’
Then she came out to the boat. When she came, he was cutting-out, and the boy was stitching.
‘Aye, Lady,’ he said ‘good day to you.’
‘God give well to you,’ said she ‘it seems strange to me that you are not able to adjust the shoes to my measure.’
‘I couldn’t,’ he said ‘[but] now I can.’
At that, suddenly, there was a wren alighting on the deck of the boat. The boy took aim and hit it between the sinew and the bone of its leg. She laughed.
‘God knows,’ said she ‘the fair one strikes it with a skilful hand!’
‘Aye,’ he replied ‘and the wrath of God upon you! He has obtained a name, and the name is good enough “Lleu Skillful Hand” he will be from now on.’
Then the work faded back into dulse and sea-weed, and he pursued that trade no longer than that. [But] from [doing] that, he was called one of the ‘Three Golden shoemakers.
‘God knows,’ said she ‘you will not thrive from being so evil to me!’
‘I have not been evil to you, even now,’ he replied.
Then he released his boy into his former appearance, and took his own appearance as well.
‘Aye,’ said she ‘I will swear an oath on this boy – that he never take arms until I arm him myself.’
‘Between me and God!’ said he ‘this [all] springs from your wretchedness – but he will [his] arms get [nonetheless]!’
Then they came back over to Dinas Dinlleu.
Lleu Skillful-Hand was reared until he could ride every horse, and was complete in form, growth and weight.
Then Gwydion noticed that he was getting despondent from the lack of horses and arms, and he called him in.
‘Lad,’ said he ‘we will go, you and I, on an errand tomorrow. So do be more cheerful than you are.’
‘That I will do,’ said the youth.
The following morning in the young of the day, they walked along the beach up as far as Brynn Aryen; and at the top of Cefyn Cludno, they kitted-out [some] horses and went along to Caer Aranrhod. Then they changed their semblance: and made for the gate in the guise of two young lads, except Gwydion appearance was more serious than that of the youth.
‘Gate-keeper,’ said he ‘go inside and say there are [some] bards from Morganog here.’ The gate-keeper went.
‘God’s welcome to them. Let them in,’ said she.
There was great joy at their arrival. The hall was prepared and they went to eat. After the meal was finished, Gwydion made conversation with her about legends and lore. Gwydion himself was a good cyfarwydd. After it was time to depart from carousing, a chamber was prepared for them, and they went to bed.
At cock-crow, Gwydion arose. Then he invoked his enchantment and his powers. At the first light of day, there was a multitude of trumpet blasts and shouting resounding throughout the countryside. When day-break came they heard a knocking on the chamber door, and (at that) Aranrhod asking them to open it. The youth got up and opened it. She came inside, a maiden with her.
‘Good men,’ said she ‘we are in an evil position.’
‘Aye,’ he replied ‘we can hear trumpets and shouting. What do you suppose from that?’
‘God knows,’ said she ‘we can’t even see the colour of the ocean for all the boats crammed-up together [out there]. And the bulk [of them] are heading for land as fast as they can. What should we do?’
‘Lady,’ said Gwydion ‘there’s nothing for it but to close up the caer around us, and defend it as best we can.’
‘Aye,’ said she ‘God repay you. Protect us. You will find weapons a-plenty here.’
At that, she went to get the weapons. And then she was back, two maidens with her [carrying] arms for two men.
‘Lady,’ said he ‘arm up this young man. And I, with the maidens, will arm myself. I can hear the sound of the men coming.’
‘I will do that gladly.’
And she armed him gladly, and to the full.
‘Is it finished?’ he asked ‘the arming of that young man?’
‘Its finished,’ she replied.
‘Then I’ve finished too,’ said he ‘take off the weapons now, we have no need for them.’
‘Och!’ she said ‘how is that? Look at the fleet around the house!’
‘Woman, there isn’t a single boat out there.’
‘Och!’ said she ‘what sort of mustering was it out there?’
‘That mustering,’ he replied ‘[was] to break your destiny upon your boy, and for him to get [his own] weapons. And he got his weapons indeed – no thanks to you.’
‘Between me and God, you are an evil man!’ she exclaimed ‘Many a boy could have lost his life in the mustering you caused in this cantref today. I will swear a destiny upon him,’ she continued ‘that he will never get a wife, from any race that in the world today!’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘you have always been a wretched woman, and no-one should support you. But he will get a wife just the same.’
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Post by wren on Sept 25, 2006 12:23:01 GMT -5
The Mabinogi of Math (cont.)
III
They went to Math son of Mathonwy, and made the most serious complaint in the world against Aranrhod, and [Gwydion] told him about all he had had to do to obtain for arms him.
‘Aye,’ said Math ‘we must endeavour, you and I, to conjure a wife for him out of flowers, using our magic and enchantment.’
[Lleu], for his part, was a fully grown man, and the most handsome youth anyone had ever seen.
Then they took the flowers of the oak, the flowers of the broom, and the flowers of the meadowsweet – and from those they called forth the fairest and most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen. She was baptised with the baptism they practiced [back] then, and [the name of] “Blodeuedd” was put upon her.
After [that] they slept together over the feast.
‘It is not easy,’ remarked Gwydion ‘for a man to support himself without lands.’
‘Aye,’ said Math ‘I will give him the best cantref for a youth to get.’
‘Lord,’ he asked ‘which cantref is that?’
‘Cantref Dinoding,’ he replied. (Nowadays that is called Eifonydd and Ardudwy).
The place in the cantref where he set up his court was a place called Mur Castell, and that is in the Ardudwy area. He settled then and ruled his lands. And everyone was satisfied with him and his rule.
Then, once upon a time, he made his way over to Caer Dathyl to visit Math son of Mathonwy. The day he went to Caer Dathyl, she [i.e. Blodeuedd] was doing the rounds inside the court. She heard the blast of a horn, and in the wake of the horn-blast there was an exhausted stag passing by, with dogs and huntsmen coming after it. And after the dogs and huntsmen, a crowd of men on foot came [by].
‘Send a lad,’ said she ‘to find out what that retinue is.’
[Off] went the lad, and asked who they were.
‘This is Gronw Pebyr – the man who is lord of Penllyn,’ said they. And that the lad reported back to her.
For his part, [Gronw] went after the stag. At the River Cynfael, he caught up with the stag and killed it. He was busy flaying the stag and baiting his hounds until the night closed in on him. And as the sun went down, and the night drew near, he came past the gate of the court.
‘God knows,’ said she ‘we will incur dishonour from the chieftain if we let him [pass through] to another land without inviting him in.’
‘God knows, Lady,’ said they ‘it would be best to invite him in.’
Then messengers went to meet him and invite him in. He took the invitation gladly then, and came to the court. She came to welcome him and greet him warmly.
‘Lady, God repay your kindness.’
They got changed and went to sit down. Blodeuedd looked upon him, and in the instance she looked, there was not an emotion[80] within her that wasn’t filled with love for him. And he also gazed at her, and the same thought came to him as had come to her. He was not able to hide that he was in love her, and he told her so. And she took great pleasure at that. And because of the passion and love each felt for the other, that was [all] they talked about that night. Nor did they wait any longer than that night before they embraced one another. That night they slept together.
The next day, he got ready to go.
‘God knows,’ said she ‘you will not go away from me tonight.’
That night too they were together. And that night they discussed how they might stay together longer.
‘There is nothing you can do except this:’ he said ‘to find out from him by what means his death might come – under the pretence of caring about him.’
The next day, he got ready to go.
‘God knows,’ said she ‘I am not counselling you to go from me today.’
‘God knows, since you are not counselling me [to], I’m not going,’ he said ‘I am saying, however, that there is a danger that the chieftain whose court this is might come home.’
‘Aye,’ said she ‘tomorrow I will allow you leave.’
The next day, he got ready to go, and she did not hinder him.
‘Aye,’ he said ‘remember what I said to you, and talk earnestly with him, and do that under the guise of affectionate nagging. And find out from him by what means death might be brought about.’
That night he came home. They passed the day in conversation, song and carousal. That night they went to sleep together. He spoke some words to her, [once] and a second time. But no [reply] did he get then.
‘What’s happened to you?’ he asked ‘are you well?
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said ‘something you wouldn’t think about me, its just’ she continued ‘that I’ve been worried about your death, if you go before me…’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘God repay your care. But unless God kills me, however, it is not easy to kill me.’
‘Will you, for God’s sake and mine, tell me by what means you might be killed? Since my memory is a better safeguard than yours.’
‘I’ll tell you gladly,’ he said ‘It is not easy,’ he continued ‘to kill me by a blow . It would be necessary to spend a year making the spear to strike me with – and without making any of it [at any other time] except when one was at mass on Sundays.’
‘And is that certain?’ she asked.
‘It’s certain, God knows,’ he replied ‘I cannot be killed inside a house, nor outside,’ he continued ‘I cannot be killed on horseback or on foot.’
‘Aye,’ said she ‘[so] in what way can you be killed?’
‘I’ll tell you,’ he replied. ‘By making a bath for me by the side of a river, making a curved, slatted roof over the tub, and thatching that well and without [leaving] any gaps. And bringing a buck,’ he continued ‘and putting it next to the tub, and me putting one of my feet on the buck’s back, and the other one on the side of the tub. Whoever would strike me [while I am] like that would bring about my death.’
‘Aye,’ said she ‘I thank God for that. That can be easily avoided.’
No sooner than she had obtained that information, she sent for Gronw Pebyr. Gronw laboured at making that spear, and on the same day at the end of the year it was ready. And on that day he let her know.
‘Lord,’ said she ‘I am thinking about how what you were talking about with me earlier might be possible. Would you show me how you would stand on the edge of the tub and on the buck if I prepare the bath?’
‘I’ll show you’ he replied.
She sent for Gronw, and asked him to abide in the shadow of the hill which is now called “Brynn Kyfegyr”: that was on the bank of the River Kynfael. She arranged for all the goats in cantref to be obtained and herded together, and brought them over to the river opposite Bryn Kyfegyr.
The next day she spoke to him.
‘Lord,’ said she ‘I have arranged what you said, I have prepared the slats and the bath and they are ready.’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘We’ll go and look at it, gladly.’
They went the next day to look at the bath.
‘Will you go in the bath, Lord?’ she asked.
‘I’ll go in, gladly,’ he said.
He went in the bath, and began to wash himself.
‘Lord,’ said she ‘here are the animals which you said had [the name of]“bucks”.’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘arrange for one of them to be seized, and have it brought over here.’
It was brought over.
Then he got up from the bath, put on his trousers and put one foot on the edge of the tub, and the other on the back of the buck.
Gronw rose up from the hill that was called Bryn Kyfergyr, went up on one knee, and cast the poison spear and struck him on the side, with the shaft protruding out of him and the head stuck inside. Then [Lleu] took flight in the form of an eagle, and gave a terrible scream, and after that they lost sight of him.
As soon as he had gone off, they made for the court, and that night they slept together. The next day Gronw arose and subdued Ardudwy. After he subdued the land, he ruled it – so that Ardudwy and Penllyn were [both under] his [control].
Then news came to Math son of Mathonwy. Math was depressed and troubled by that, and Gwydion even more so than him.
‘Lord,’ said Gwydion ‘I will never rest until I get news about my nephew.’
Aye,’ said Math ‘may God be your strength.’
Then he set out, and began his wandering. He wandered Gwynedd and the far reaches of Powys. After he had explored every place, he came to Arfon, and came to the house of the son of a villein in Maenawr Bennard.
He alighted in the house, and spent the night there. The man of the house and his family came in, and last of all came the swineherd. The man of the house spoke to the swineherd.
‘Lad’, said he ‘has your sow come in tonight?’
‘She has come,’ he replied ‘now she comes to the pig.’
‘What kind of journey does that sow have?’ asked Gwydion.
‘When the sty is opened every day she goes out. It is not possible to get a hold of her, and it is not known where she goes any more than if she went into the earth.’
‘Will you do [this] for me?’ asked Gwydion. ‘Do not open the sty until I am next to the sty with you.’
‘I’ll do [that] gladly,’ he replied.
And they went to sleep that night.
When the swine-herd saw the light of day, he woke Gwydion, and Gwydion got up and got dressed and came with him to stand next to the sty. The swine-herd opened the sty. As soon as it was open, there she was, launching herself out of the sty. And she roamed far, with Gwydion following her. She went up-stream, making for a valley (which is now called Nant Lleu, and then slowed down and [started] grazing.
Gwydion, for his part, came under the tree, and looked for what the sow was grazing on. He could see the sow was grazing on rotting flesh and maggots. He looked up into the top of the tree. When he looked up, he could see an eagle in the top of the tree. When the eagle shook himself, worms and rotting flesh fell from him, and those the sow was devouring. It occurred to him that the eagle was Lleu, and he sung an englyn:
‘An oak grows between two pools, Dark-black branches sky and glen
If I do not tell a lie
From the flowers of Lleu this has come!’
The eagle let himself down until he was in the middle of the tree. [Then] Gwydion sang another englyn:
‘An oak grows upon a high plain
Rain neither wets it, nor drips upon it
Nine-score strikes has it endured
In its top, Lleu Skillful-Hand
And then he let himself down until he was on the lowest branch of the tree. Then [Gwydion] sang an englyn:
Grows an oak upon a steep
The sanctuary of fair lord
Unless I speak falsely:
Lleu will come down into my lap
And he fell onto Gwydion’s knee; and then Gwydion struck him with a magic wand, until he was [back] in his own form. However, no-one had ever seen a man in a sorrier state. He was nothing but skin and bones.
Then he made for Caer Dathyl, and there the best doctors that could be found in Gwynedd were brought before him. Before the end of the year, he was [back] in good health.
‘Lord,’ he said to Math son of Mathonwy ‘it is high time I got justice from the man who inflicted [such] trouble upon me.’
‘God knows,’ said Math ‘he will not be able to defend himself, justice to you lies with him.’
‘Aye,’ said the other ‘the sooner I can get justice the better’
Then they mustered Gwynedd and made for Ardudwy. Gwydion went in front, and made for Mur Castell. Blodeuedd, [when] she heard that they were on their way, took her maidens with her and made for the mountain, across the River Cynfael, making for a court that was up the mountain. And so frightened were they, that they could not walk without facing backwards. Then, before they knew it, they fell into a lake and all drowned except [Blodeuedd] herself. And then Gwydion overtook her, and spoke:
‘I will not kill you. What I am going to do is [even] worse,’ he said ‘that is, I will release you in the shape of a bird. Because of the shame that you have wrought upon Lleu Llaw Gyffes, you will not dare to show your face ever again in the light of day ever again, and that [will be] because of enmity between you and all[other] birds. It will be in their nature to harass you and despise you wherever they find you. And you will not loose your name – that will always be “Bloddeuwedd”.’
“Blodeuwedd” means “owl” in the language of today. And it is because of that there is hostility between birds and owls, and the owl is still known as Blodeuwedd.
For his part, Gronw Pebyr made for Penllyn, and from there he sent envoys. The messengers conveyed a request to Lleu Skilful-Hand [offering him] whatever he wanted [in terms] of blood-payment: either land or territory or gold or silver.
‘I will not take [it], by the confession I give to God!’ said he ‘Here is the least I’ll accept from him: going to the place where I was, when he cast the spear, with me in the place where he was. And let me cast a spear at him. That is the least I will accept from him.’
That was told to Gronw Pebyr.
‘Aye’, he said ‘I will have to do that. O loyal noblemen, my war-band, my foster-brothers: is there anyone one of you that would take this blow for me?’
‘God knows, there is not’ said they.
Because of their refusal to endure the taking of a single blow on behalf of their lord, they are called one of the Three Disloyal Warbands, from that day to this.
‘Aye,’ he said ‘[then] I will take it.’
Both of them came to the bank of the River Cynfael. Then Gronw Pebyr stood, where Lleu Skillful Hand had been when he had cast [the spear] at him, and Lleu in the place where he himself had been.
Then Gronw Pebyr came before Lleu.
‘Lord,’ said he ‘since it was through the wiles of a woman that I did what I did to you, I am asking you, for God’s sake, that you let me put that stone which I see by the bank of the river between me and blow.’
‘God knows,’ said Lleu ‘I will not refuse you that.’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘God repay you.’
Then Gronw took the stone and put it between himself and the blow.
Lleu cast the spear at him. It went pierced though the stone, pierced through him and broke his back.
And then Gronw Pebyr died, and there on the bank of the River Cynfael in Ardudwy the stone is [still], with a hole through it. And for that reason, it is called ‘The Stone of Gronw’.
Lleu Skillful Hand, for his part, conquered the land a second time. And, according to the tradition, he was lord of Gwynedd thereafter.
Thus ends this branch of the Mabinogi.
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Post by wren on Sept 25, 2006 12:25:53 GMT -5
Being part of a Welsh-based Grove, I have begun to learn more about the Welsh lore. I love the imagery of Math as King with his feet resting in the lap of the maiden. Math and Lleu are two of the four patron deities of our Grove and have come to have a very special meaning for me.
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Post by Senbecc on Sept 27, 2006 1:25:18 GMT -5
Being part of a Welsh-based Grove, I have begun to learn more about the Welsh lore. I love the imagery of Math as King with his feet resting in the lap of the maiden. Math and Lleu are two of the four patron deities of our Grove and have come to have a very special meaning for me. Well I'm glad to hear that. I am very interested in the ways and traditions of the Welsh myself, and have thuroughly enjoyed these posts Wren! Thank you
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Post by wren on Sept 27, 2006 17:48:21 GMT -5
You are very welcome. I will try to post more as I get some spare time.
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