dogs, nor house nor dwelling, saw he within it. But in the centre of
the castle-floor he beheld a fountain with marble work around it, and
on the margin of the fountain a golden bowl upon a marble slab, and
chains hanging from the air, to which he saw no end.
And he was greatly pleased with the beauty of the gold, and with the
rich workmanship of the bowl, and he went up to the bowl and laid hold
of it. And when he had taken hold of it, his hands stuck to the bowl,
and his feet to the slab on which the bowl was placed, and all his
joyousness forsook him, so that he could not utter a word. And thus he
stood.
And Manawyddan waited for him till near the close of the day. And late
in the evening, being certain that he should have no tidings of Pryderi
or of the dogs, he went back to the palace. And as he entered, Rhiannon
looked at him. "Where," said she, "are thy companion and thy dogs?"
"Behold," he answered, "the adventure that has befallen me." And he
related it all unto her.
"An evil companion hast thou been," said Rhiannon, "and a good
companion hast thou lost." And with that word she went out, and
proceeded towards the castle according to the direction which he gave
her. The gate of the castle she found open. She was nothing daunted,
and she went in. And as she went in she perceived Pryderi laying hold
of the bowl, and she went towards him. "O my lord," said she, "what
dost thou do here?" And she took hold of the bowl with him; and as
she did so, her hands became fast to the bowl, and her feet to the
slab, and she was not able to utter a word. And with that, as it
became night, lo, there came thunder upon them, and a fall of mist, and
thereupon the castle vanished, and they with it.
[Illustration: Pryderi Held Fast by the Enchanted Bowl.]
When Kicva, the daughter of Gwynn Gloew, saw that there was no one in
the palace but herself and Manawyddan, she sorrowed so that she cared
not whether she lived or died. And Manawyddan saw this. "Thou art in
the wrong," said he, "if through fear of me thou grievest thus. I call
Heaven to witness that thou hast never seen friendship more pure than
that which I will bear thee as long as Heaven will that thou shouldst
be thus."
"Heaven reward thee," she said, "and that is what I deemed of thee."
And the damsel thereupon took courage and was glad.
"Truly, lady," said Manawyddan, "it is not fitting for us to stay here:
we have lost our dogs, and we cannot get food. Let us go into Lloegyr:
it is easiest for us to find support there."
"Gladly, lord," said she, "we will do so." And they set forth together
to Lloegyr. [But again the cordwainers drove them from their craft. And
Kicva would have fought them; but]
"Nay," said he, "we will go back unto Dyved." So towards Dyved they set
forth.
Now Madawyddan, when he set out to return to Dyved, took with him a
burden of wheat. And he proceeded towards Narberth, and there he dwelt.
And then he began to prepare some ground, and he sowed a croft, and a
second, and a third. And no wheat in the world ever sprung up better.
And the three crofts prospered with perfect growth, and no man ever saw
fairer wheat than it.
And thus passed the seasons of the year until the harvest came. And
he went to look at one of his crofts, and behold it was ripe. "I will
reap this to-morrow," said he. And that night he went back to Narberth.
And on the morrow in the gray dawn he went to reap the croft, and when
he came there he found nothing but the bare straw. Every one of the
ears of the wheat was cut from off the stalk, and all the ears carried
entirely away, and nothing but the straw left. And at this he marvelled
greatly.
Then he went to look at another croft, and behold that also was ripe.
"Verily," said he, "this will I reap to-morrow." And on the morrow
he came with the intent to reap it, and when he came there he found
nothing but the bare straw. "Oh, gracious Heaven," he exclaimed, "I
know that whosoever has begun my ruin is completing it, and has also
destroyed the country with me."
Then he went to look at the third croft, and when he came there, finer
wheat had there never been seen, and this also was ripe. "Evil betide
me," said he, "if I watch not here to-night. Whoever carried off the
other corn will come in like manner to take this. And I will know who
it is." So he took his arms, and began to watch the croft. And he told
Kicva all that had befallen.
"Verily," said she, "what thinkest thou to do?"
"I will watch the croft to-night," said he.
And he went to watch the croft. And at midnight, lo, there arose the
loudest tumult in the world. And he looked, and behold the mightiest
host of mice in the world, which could neither be numbered nor
measured. And he knew not what it was until the mice had made their way
into the croft, and each of them, climbing up the straw and bending it
down with its weight, had cut off one of the ears of wheat, and had
carried it away, leaving there the stalk; and he saw not a single straw
there that had not a mouse to it. And they all took their way, carrying
the ears with them.
In wrath and anger did he rush upon the mice; but he could no more come
up with them than if they had been gnats, or birds in the air, except
one only, which, though it was but sluggish, went so fast that a man
on foot could scarce overtake it. And after this one he went, and he
caught it, and put it in his glove, and tied up the opening of the
glove with a string, and kept it with him, and returned to the palace.
Then he came to the hall where Kicva was, and he lighted a fire, and
hung the glove by the string upon a peg.
"What hast thou there, lord?" said Kicva.
"A thief," said he, "that I found robbing me."
"What kind of thief may it be, lord, that thou couldst put into thy
glove?" said she.
"Behold, I will tell thee," he answered. Then he showed her how his
fields had been wasted and destroyed, and how the mice came to the
last of the fields in his sight. "And one of them was less nimble than
the rest, and is now in my glove: to-morrow I will hang it. And before
Heaven, if I had them, I would hang them all."
"My lord," said she, "this is marvellous. But yet it would be unseemly
for a man of dignity like thee to be hanging such a reptile as this.
And if thou doest right, thou wilt not meddle with the creature, but
wilt let it go."
"Woe betide me," said he, "if I would not hang them all, could I catch
them; and such as I have I will hang."
"Verily, lord," said she, "there is no reason that I should succor this
reptile, except to prevent discredit unto thee. Do therefore, lord, as
thou wilt."
"If I knew of any cause in the world wherefore thou shouldst succor it,
I would take thy counsel concerning it," said Manawyddan; "but as I
know of none, lady, I am minded to destroy it."
"Do so willingly, then," said she.
And then he went to the Gorsedd of Narberth, taking the mouse with him.
And he set up two forks on the highest part of the Gorsedd. And while
he was doing this, behold he saw a scholar coming towards him in old
and poor and tattered garments. And it was now seven years since he had
seen in that place either man or beast, except those four persons who
had remained together until two of them were lost.
"My lord," said the scholar, "good day to thee."
"Heaven prosper thee, and my greeting be unto thee. And whence dost
thou come, scholar?" asked he.
"I come, lord, from singing in Lloegyr; and wherefore dost thou
inquire?"
"Because, for the last seven years," answered he, "I have seen no man
here save four secluded persons, and thyself this moment."
"Truly, lord," said he, "I go through this land unto mine own. And what
work art thou upon, lord?"
"I am hanging a thief that I caught robbing me," said he.
"What manner of thief is that?" asked the scholar. "I see a creature in
thy hand like unto a mouse; and ill does it become a man of rank equal
to thine to touch a reptile such as this. Let it go forth free."
"I will not let it go free, by Heaven," said he. "I caught it robbing
me, and the doom of a thief will I inflict upon it, and I will hang it."
"Lord," said he, "rather than see a man of rank equal to thine at such
a work as this, I would give thee a pound, which I have received as
alms, to let the reptile go forth free."
"I will not let it go free," said he, "by Heaven; neither will I sell
it."
"As thou wilt, lord," he answered. "Except that I would not see a man
of rank equal to thine touching such a reptile, I care nought." And the
scholar went his way.
And as he was placing the crossbeam upon the two forks, behold a priest
came towards him upon a horse covered with trappings. "Good-day to
thee, lord," said he.
"Heaven prosper thee!" said Manawyddan; "thy blessing."
"The blessing of Heaven be upon thee! And what, lord, art thou doing?"
"I am hanging a thief that I caught robbing me," said he.
"What manner of thief, lord?" asked he.
"A creature," he answered, "in form of a mouse. It has been robbing me,
and I am inflicting upon it the doom of a thief."
"Lord," said he, "rather than see thee touch this reptile, I would
purchase its freedom."
"By my confession to Heaven, neither will I sell it nor set it free."
"It is true, lord, that it is worth nothing to buy. But rather than see
thee defile thyself by touching such a reptile as this, I will give
thee three pounds to let it go."
"I will not, by Heaven," said he, "take any price for it. As it ought,
so shall it be hanged."
"Willingly, lord, do thy good pleasure." And the priest went his way.
Then he noosed the string around the mouse's neck, and as he was
about to draw it up, behold, he saw a bishop's retinue with his
sumpter-horses, and his attendants. And the bishop himself came
towards him. And he stayed his work. "Lord bishop," said he, "thy
blessing."
"Heaven's blessing be unto thee," said he. "What work art thou upon?"
"Hanging a thief that I caught robbing me," said he.
"Is not that a mouse that I see in thy hand?"
"Yes," answered he. "And she has robbed me."
"Ay," said he, "since I have come at the doom of this reptile, I will
ransom it of thee. I will give thee seven pounds for it, and that
rather than see a man of rank equal to thine destroying so vile a
reptile as this. Let it loose, and thou shalt have the money."
"I declare to Heaven that I will not set it loose."
"If thou wilt not loose it for this, I will give thee four and twenty
pounds of ready money to set it free."
"I will not set it free, by Heaven, for as much again," said he.
"If thou wilt not set it free for this, I will give thee all the horses
that thou seest in this plain, and the seven loads of baggage, and the
seven horses that they are upon."
"By Heaven, I will not," he replied.
"Since for this thou wilt not, do so at what price soever thou wilt."
"I will do so," said he. "I will that Rhiannon and Pryderi be free,"
said he.
"That thou shalt have," he answered.
"Not yet will I loose the mouse, by Heaven."
"What then wouldst thou?"
"That the charm and the illusion be removed from the seven Cantrevs of
Dyved."
"This shalt thou have also: set therefore the mouse free."
"I will not set it free, by Heaven," said he. "I will know who the
mouse may be."
"She is my wife."
"Even though she be, I will not set her free. Wherefore came she to me?"
"To despoil thee," he answered. "I am Llwyd the son of Kilcoed, and I
cast the charm over the seven cantrevs of Dyved. And it was to avenge
Gwawl the son of Clud from the friendship I had towards him, that I
cast the charm. And upon Pryderi did I revenge Gwawl the son of Clud
for the game of Badger in the Bag that Pwyll Pen Annwn played upon him,
which he did unadvisedly in the court of Heveydd Hên. And when it was
known that thou wast come to dwell in the land, my household came and
besought me to transform them into mice, that they might destroy thy
corn. And it was my own household that went the first night. And the
second night also they went, and they destroyed thy two crofts. And
the third night came unto me my wife and the ladies of the court, and
besought me to transform them. And I transformed them. But since [my
wife] has been caught, I will restore thee Pryderi and Rhiannon; and I
will take the charm and illusion from off Dyved. I have now told thee
who she is. Set her therefore free."
"I will not set her free, by Heaven," said he.
"What wilt thou more?" he asked.
"I will that there be no more charm upon the seven Cantrevs of Dyved,
and that none shall be put upon it henceforth."
"This thou shalt have," said he. "Now set her free."
"I will not, by my faith," he answered.
"What wilt thou furthermore?" asked he.
"Behold," said he, "this will I have; that vengeance be never taken for
this, either upon Pryderi, or Rhiannon, or upon me."
"All this shalt thou have. And truly thou hast done wisely in asking
this. Upon thy head would have lighted all this trouble."
"Yea," said he, "for fear thereof was it that I required this."
"Set now my wife at liberty."
"I will not, by Heaven," said he, "until I see Pryderi and Rhiannon
with me free."
"Behold, here they come," he answered.
And thereupon behold Pryderi and Rhiannon. And he rose up to meet them,
and greeted them, and sat down beside them. "Ah, chieftain, set now my
wife at liberty," said the bishop. "Hast thou not received all thou
didst ask?"
"I will release her gladly," said he. And thereupon he set her free.
Then Llywyd struck her with a magic wand, and she was changed back into
a young woman, the fairest ever seen.
"Look around upon thy land," said he, "and then thou wilt see it all
tilled and peopled, as it was in its best state."
And he rose up and looked forth. And when he looked he saw all the
lands tilled, and full of herds and dwellings. "What bondage," he
inquired, "has there been upon Pryderi and Rhiannon?"
"Pryderi has had the knockers of the gate of my palace about his neck,
and Rhiannon has had the collars of the asses, after they have been
carrying hay, about her neck."
And such had been their bondage.
And by reason of this bondage is this story called the Mabinogi of
Mynnweir and Mynord.
GERAINT THE SON OF ERBIN.[17]
[Footnote 17: It is from this tale that Tennyson drew the incidents of
his poem upon Geraint and Enid.]
Arthur was accustomed to hold his court at Caerlleon-upon-Usk. And
there he held it seven Easters and five Christmases. And once upon a
time he held his court there at Whitsuntide. For Caerlleon was the
place most easy of access in his dominions, both by sea and by land.
And there were assembled nine crowned kings, who were his tributaries,
and likewise earls and barons. For they were his invited guests at all
the high festivals, unless they were prevented by any great hindrance.
And when he was at Caerlleon, holding his court, thirteen churches were
set apart for mass. And thus were they appointed: one church for Arthur
and his kings and his guests; and the second for Gwenhwyvar and her
ladies; and the third for the steward of the household and the suitors;
and the fourth for the franks and the other officers: and the other
nine churches were for the nine masters of the household, and chiefly
for Gwalchmai;[18] for he, from the eminence of his warlike fame, and
from the nobleness of his birth, was the most exalted of the nine.
[Footnote 18: "Gwalchmai," as before stated, is the "Sir Gawaine" of
Malory's _King Arthur_.]
Glewlwyd Gavaelvawr was the chief porter; but he did not himself
perform the office, except at one of the three high festivals, for he
had seven men to serve him, and they divided the year amongst them.
And on Whit-Tuesday, as the king sat at the banquet, lo! there entered
a tall, fair-headed youth, clad in a coat and a surcoat of diapered
satin, and a golden-hilted sword about his neck, and low shoes of
leather upon his feet. And he came and stood before Arthur. "Hail to
thee, lord!" said he.
"Heaven prosper thee," he answered, "and be thou welcome. Dost thou
bring any new tidings?"'
"I do, lord," he said.
"I know thee not," said Arthur.
"It is a marvel to me that thou dost not know me. I am one of thy
foresters, lord, in the Forest of Dean, and my name is Madawe, the son
of Twrgadarn."
"Tell me thine errand," said Arthur.
"I will do so, lord," said he: "in the forest I saw a stag the like of
which beheld I never yet."
"What is there about him," asked Arthur, "that thou never yet didst see
his like?"
"He is of pure white, lord, and he does not herd with any other animal
through stateliness and pride, so royal is his bearing. And I come to
seek thy counsel, lord, and to know thy will concerning him."
"It seems best to me," said Arthur, "to go and hunt him to-morrow at
break of day, and to cause general notice thereof to be given to-night
in all quarters of the court." And Arryfuerys was Arthur's chief
huntsman, and Arelivri was his chief page. And all received notice; and
thus it was arranged. And they sent the youth before them.
Then Gwenhwyvar said to Arthur, "Wilt thou permit me, lord," said she,
"to go to-morrow to see and hear the hunt of the stag of which the
young man spoke?"
"I will gladly," said Arthur.
"Then will I go," said she.
And Gwalchmai said to Arthur, "Lord, if it seem well to thee, permit
that into whose hunt soever the stag shall come, that one, be he a
knight, or one on foot, may cut off his head, and give it to whom he
pleases, whether to his own lady-love, or to the lady of his friend."
"I grant it gladly," said Arthur, "and let the steward of the household
be chastised, if all are not ready to-morrow for the chase."
And they passed the night with songs and diversions and discourse, and
ample entertainment. And when it was time for them all to go to sleep,
they went. And when the next day came, they arose; and Arthur called
the attendants who guarded his couch. And these men came to Arthur
and saluted him, and arrayed him in his garments. And Arthur wondered
that Gwenhwyvar did not awake, and did not move in her bed; and the
attendants wished to awaken her. "Disturb her not," said Arthur, "for
she had rather sleep than go to see the hunting."
Then Arthur went forth; and he heard two horns sounding, one from near
the lodging of the chief huntsman, and the other from near that of the
chief page. And the whole assembly of the multitudes came to Arthur,
and they took the road to the forest.
And after Arthur had gone forth from the palace, Gwenhwyvar awoke,
and called to her maidens, and apparelled herself. "Maidens," said
she, "I had leave last night to go and see the hunt. Go one of you
to the stable, and order hither a horse such as a woman may ride."
And one of them went, and she found but two horses in the stable; and
Gwenhwyvar and one of her maidens mounted them, and went through the
Usk, and followed the track of the men and the horses. And as they
rode thus, they heard a loud and rushing sound; and they looked behind
them, and beheld a knight upon a hunter-foal of mighty size; and the
rider was a fair-haired youth, bare-legged, and of princely mien, and
a golden-hilted sword was at his side, and a robe and a surcoat of
satin were upon him, and two low shoes of leather upon his feet, and
around him was a scarf of blue purple, at each corner of which was a
golden apple. And his horse stepped stately and swift and proud; and he
overtook Gwenhwyvar, and saluted her. "Heaven prosper thee, Geraint,"
said she: "I knew thee when first I saw thee just now. And the welcome
of Heaven be unto thee. And why didst thou not go with thy lord to
hunt?"
"Because I knew not when he went," said he.
"I marvel too," said she, "how he could go unknown to me."
"Indeed, lady!" said he.
"I was asleep, and knew not when he went. And it may be that I shall
be more amused with the hunting than they; for we shall hear the horns
when they sound, and we shall hear the dogs when they are let loose,
and begin to cry." So they went to the edge of the forest, and there
they stood. "From this place," said she, "we shall hear when the dogs
are let loose." And thereupon they heard a loud noise, and they looked
towards the spot whence it came, and they beheld a dwarf riding upon
a horse, stately, and foaming and prancing, and strong and spirited.
And in the hand of the dwarf was a whip. And near the dwarf they saw a
lady upon a beautiful white horse of steady and stately pace; and she
was clothed in a garment of gold brocade. And near her was a knight
upon a war-horse of large size, with heavy and bright armor both upon
himself and upon his horse. And truly they never before saw a knight,
or a horse, or armor, of such remarkable size. And they were all near
to each other.
"Geraint," said Gwenhwyvar, "knowest thou the name of that tall knight
yonder?"
"I know him not," said he; "and the strange armor that he wears
prevents my either seeing his face or his features."
"Go, maiden," said Gwenhwyvar, "and ask the dwarf who that knight is."
Then the maiden went up to the dwarf; and the dwarf waited for the
maiden when he saw her coming towards him. And the maiden inquired of
the dwarf who the knight was.
"I will not tell thee," he answered.
"Since thou art so churlish as not to tell me," said she, "I will ask
him himself."
"Thou shalt not ask him, by my faith!" said he.
"Wherefore?" said she.
"Because thou art not of honor sufficient to befit thee to speak to my
lord." Then the maiden turned her horse's head towards the knight, upon
which the dwarf struck her, with the whip that was in his hand, across
the face and the eyes, until the blood flowed forth. And the maiden,
through the hurt she received from the blow, returned to Gwenhwyvar,
complaining of the pain.
"Very rudely has the dwarf treated thee," said Geraint. "I will go
myself to know who the knight is."
"Go," said Gwenhwyvar. And Geraint went up to the dwarf.
"Who is yonder knight?" said Geraint.
"I will not tell thee," said the dwarf.
"Then will I ask him himself," said he.
"That wilt thou not, by my faith!" said the dwarf. "Thou art not
honorable enough to speak with my lord."
Said Geraint, "I have spoken with men of equal rank with him." And he
turned his horse's head towards the knight; but the dwarf overtook him,
and struck him as he had done the maiden, so that the blood colored the
scarf that Geraint wore. Then Geraint put his hand upon the hilt of his
sword; but he took counsel with himself, and considered that it would
be no vengeance for him to slay the dwarf, and to be attacked unarmed
by the armed knight: so he returned to where Gwenhwyvar was.
"Thou hast acted wisely and discreetly," said she.
"Lady," said he, "I will follow him yet, with thy permission; and at
last he will come to some inhabited place, where I may have arms either
as a loan or for a pledge, so that I may encounter the knight."
"Go," said she, "and do not attack him until thou hast good arms; and I
shall be very anxious concerning thee until I hear tidings of thee."
"If I am alive," said he, "thou shalt hear tidings of me by to-morrow
afternoon." And with that he departed.
And the road they took was below the palace of Caerlleon, and across
the ford of the Usk. And they went along a fair and even and lofty
ridge of ground until they came to a town, and at the extremity of the
town they saw a fortress and a castle. And they came to the extremity
of the town. And as the knight passed through it, all the people arose
and saluted him, and bade him welcome. And when Geraint came into the
town, he looked at every house to see if he knew any of those whom he
saw. But he knew none, and none knew him to do him the kindness to let
him have arms either as a loan or for a pledge. And every house he saw
was full of men and arms and horses. And they were polishing shields,
and burnishing swords, and washing armor, and shoeing horses. And the
knight and the lady and the dwarf rode up to the castle that was in the
town, and every one was glad in the castle. And from the battlements
and the gates they risked their necks through their eagerness to greet
them, and to show their joy.
Geraint stood there to see whether the knight would remain in the
castle. And when he was certain that he would do so, he looked around
him; and at a little distance from the town he saw an old palace in
ruins, wherein was a hall that was falling to decay. And as he knew not
any one in the town, he went towards the old palace; and when he came
near to the palace he saw but one chamber, and a bridge of marble-stone
leading to it. And upon the bridge he saw sitting a hoary-headed man,
upon whom were tattered garments. And Geraint gazed steadfastly upon
him for a long time. Then the hoary-headed man spoke to him. "Young
man," he said, "wherefore art thou thoughtful?"
"I am thoughtful," said he, "because I know not where to go to-night."