MATH
the son of Mathonwy was lord over Gwynedd, and Pryderi the son of Pwyll was lord
over the one-and-twenty Cantrevs of the South; and these were the seven Cantrevs
of Dyved, and the seven Cantrevs of Morganwc, the four Cantrevs of Ceredigiawn,
and the three of Ystrad Tywi.
At that time, Math the son of Mathonwy could not exist unless his feet were in
the lap of a maiden, except only when he was prevented by the tumult of war. Now
the maiden who was with him was Goewin, the daughter of Pebin of Dol Pebin, in
Arvon, and she was the fairest maiden of her time who was known there.
And Math dwelt always at Caer Dathyl, in Arvon, and was not able to go the
circuit of the land, but Gilvaethwy the son of Don, and Eneyd the son of Don,
his nephews, the sons of his sister, with his household, went the circuit of the
land in his stead.
Now the maiden was with Math continually, and Gilvaethwy the son of Don set his
affections upon her, and loved her so that he knew not what he should do because
of her, and therefrom behold his hue, and his aspect, and his spirits changed
for love of her, so that it was not easy to know him.
One day his brother Gwydion gazed steadfastly upon him. "Youth," said
he, "what aileth thee?"
"Why," replied he, "what seest thou in me?"
"I see," said he, "that thou hast lost thy aspect and thy hue;
what, therefore, aileth thee?"
"My lord brother," he answered, "that which aileth me, it will
not profit me that I should own to any."
"What may it be, my soul?" said he.
"Thou knowest," he said, "that Math the son of Mathonwy has this
property, that if men whisper together, in a tone how low soever, if the wind
meet it, it becomes known unto him."
"Yes," said Gwydion, "hold now thy peace, I know thy intent, thou
lovest Goewin."
When he found that his brother knew his intent, he gave the heaviest sigh in the
world. "Be silent, my soul, and sigh not," he said. "It is not
thereby that thou wilt succeed. I will cause," said he, "if it cannot
be otherwise, the rising of Gwynedd, and Powys, and Deheubarth, to seek the
maiden. Be thou of glad cheer therefore, and I will compass it."
So they went unto Math the son of Mathonwy. "Lord," said Gwydion,
"I have heard that there have come to the South some beasts, such as were
never known in this island before."
"What are they called?" he asked.
"Pigs, lord."
"And what kind of animals are they?"
"They
are small animals, and their flesh is better than the flesh of oxen."
"They are small, then?"
"And they change their names. Swine are they now called."
"Who owneth them?"
"Pryderi the son of Pwyll; they were sent him from Annwn, by Arawn the king
of Annwn, and still they keep that name, half bog, half pig."
"Verily," asked he, " and by what means may they be obtained from
him?"
"I will go, lord, as one of twelve, in the guise of bards, to seek the
swine."
"But it may be that he will refuse you," said he. "My journey
will not be evil, lord," said he;
"I will not come back without the swine."
"Gladly," said he, "go thou forward."
So he and Gilvaethwy went, and ten other men with them. And they came into
Ceredigiawn, to the place that is now called Rhuddlan Teivi, where the palace of
Pryderi was. In the guise of bards they came in, and they were received
joyfully, and Gwydion was placed beside Pryderi that night.
"Of a truth," said Pryderi, "gladly would I have a tale from some
of your men yonder."
"Lord," said Gwydion, "we have a custom that the first night that we come to the Court of a great man, the chief of song recites. Gladly will I relate a tale." Now Gwydion was the best teller of tales in the world, and he diverted all the Court that night with pleasant discourse and with tales, so that he charmed every one in the Court, and it pleased Pryderi to talk with him.
And after this, "Lord," said he unto Pryderi, "were it more pleasing to thee, that another should discharge my errand unto thee, than that I should tell thee myself what it is?"
"No," he answered, "ample speech hast thou."
"Behold then, lord," said he, "my errand. It is to crave from thee the animals that were sent thee from Annwn."
"Verily," he replied, "that were the easiest thing in the world to grant, were there not a covenant between me and my land concerning them. And the covenant is that they shall not go from me, until they have produced double their number in the land."
"Lord,"
said he, "I can set thee free from those words, and this is the way I can
do so; give me not the swine to-night, neither refuse them unto me, and
to-morrow I will show thee an exchange for them."
And that night he and his fellows went unto their lodging, and they took
counsel. "Ah, my men," said he, "we shall not have the swine for
the asking."
"Well," said they, how may they be obtained?"
"I
will cause them to be obtained," said Gwydion.
Then he betook himself to his arts, and began to work a charm. And he caused
twelve chargers to appear, and twelve black greyhounds, each of them
white-breasted, and having upon them twelve collars and twelve leashes, such as
no one that saw them could know to be other than gold. And upon the horses
twelve saddles, and every part which should have been of iron was entirely of
gold, and the bridles were of the same workmanship. And with the horses and the
dogs he came to Pryderi.
"Good day unto thee, lord," said he. "Heaven prosper thee,"
said the other, "and greetings be unto thee."
"Lord,"
said he, "behold here is a release for thee from the word which thou
spakest last evening concerning the swine; that thou wouldst neither give nor
sell them. Thou mayest exchange them for that which is better. And I will give
these twelve horses, all caparisoned as they are, with their saddles and their
bridles, and these twelve greyhounds, with their collars and their leashes as
thou seest, and the twelve gilded shields that thou beholdest yonder." Now
these he had formed of fungus. "Well," said he, "we will take
counsel." And they consulted together, and determined to give the swine to
Gwydion, and to take his horses and his dogs and his shields.
Then Gwydion and his men took their leave, and began to journey forth with the
pigs. "Ah, my comrades," said Gwydion, "it is needful that we
journey with speed. The illusion will not last but from the one hour to the same
tomorrow."
And that night they journeyed as far as the upper part of Ceredigiawn, to the
place which, from that cause, is called Mochdrev still. And the next day they
took their course through Melenydd, and came that night to the town which is
likewise for that reason called Mochdrev, between Keri and Arwystli. And thence
they journeyed forward; and that night they came as far as that Commot in Powys,
which also upon account thereof is called Mochnant, and there tarried they that
night. And they journeyed thence to the Cantrev of Rhos, and the place where
they were that night is still called Mochdrev.
"My men," said Gwydion, "we must push forward to the fastnesses
of Gwynedd with these animals, for there is a gathering of hosts in pursuit of
us." So they journeyed on to the highest town of Arllechwedd, and there
they made a sty for the swine, and therefore was the name of Creuwyryon given to
that town. And after they had made the sty for the swine, they proceeded to Math
the son of Mathonwy, at Caer Dathyl. And when they came there, the country was
rising. "What news is there here?" asked Gwydion.
"Pryderi is assembling one-and-twenty Cantrevs to pursue after you,"
answered they. "It is marvellous that you should have journeyed so
slowly."
"Where are the animals whereof you went in quest?" said Math.
"They have had a sty made for them in the other Cantrev below," said
Gwydion.
Thereupon, lo, they heard the trumpets and the host in the land, and they
arrayed themselves and set forward and came to Penardd in Arvon.
And at night Gwydion the son of Don, and Gilvaethwy his brother, returned to
Caerdathyl; and Gilvaethwy took Math the son of Mathonwy's couch. And while he
turned out the other damsels from the room discourteously, he made Goewin
unwillingly remain.
And when they saw the day on the morrow, they went back unto the place where
Math the son of Mathonwy was with his host; and when they came there, the
warriors were taking counsel in what district they should await the coming of
Pryderi, and the men of the South. So they went in to the council. And it was
resolved to wait in the strongholds of Gwynedd, in Arvon. So within the two
Maenors they took their stand, Maenor Penardd and Maenor Coed Alun. And there
Pryderi attacked them, and there the combat took place. And great was the
slaughter on both sides; but the men of the South were forced to flee. And they
fled unto the place which is still called Nantcall. And thither did they follow
them, and they made a vast slaughter of them there, so that they fled again as
far as the place called Dol Pen Maen, and there they halted and sought to make
peace.
And that he might have peace, Pryderi gave hostages, Gwrgi Gwastra gave he and
three-and-twenty others, sons of nobles. And after this they journeyed in peace
even unto Traeth Mawr; but as they went on together towards Melenryd, the men on
foot could not be restrained from shooting. Pryderi despatched unto Math an
embassy to pray him to forbid his people, and to leave it between him and
Gwydion the son of Don for that he had caused all this." And the messengers
came to Math. "Of a truth," said Math, "I call Heaven to witness,
if it be pleasing unto Gwydion the son of Don, I will so leave it gladly. Never
will I compel any to go to fight but that we ourselves should do our
utmost."
"Verily," said the messengers, " Pryderi saith that it were more
fair that the man who did him this wrong should oppose his own body to his, and
let his people remain unscathed."
"I declare to Heaven, I will not ask the men of Gwynedd to fight because of me. If I am allowed to fight Pryderi myself, gladly will I oppose my body to his." And this answer they took back to Pryderi.
"Truly,"
said Pryderi, "I shall require no one to demand my rights but myself."
Then these two came forth and armed themselves, and they fought. And by force of
strength, and fierceness, and by the magic and charms of Gwydion, Pryderi was
slain. And at Maen Tyriawc, above Melenryd, was he buried, and there is his
grave,
And the men of the South set forth in sorrow towards their own land; nor is it a
marvel that they should grieve, seeing that they had lost their lord, and many
of their best warriors, and for the most part their horses and their arms.
The men of Gwynedd went back joyful and in triumph. "Lord," said
Gwydion unto Math, "would it not be right for us to release the hostages of
the men of the South, which they pledged unto us for peace? for we ought not to
put them in prison."
"Let them then be set free," saith Math. So that youth, and the other hostages that were with him, were set free to follow the men of the South. Math himself went forward to Caerdathyl. Gilvaethwy the son of Don, and they of the household that were with him went to make the circuit of Gwynedd as they were wont, without coming to the Court. Math went into his chamber, and caused a place to be prepared for him whereon to recline, so that he might put his feet in the maiden's lap. "Lord," said Goewin, "seek now another to hold thy feet, for I am now a wife."
"What meaneth this?" said he.
"An attack, lord, was made unawares upon me; but I held not my peace, and there was no one in the Court who knew not of it. Now the attack was made by thy nephews, lord, the sons of thy sister, Gwydion the son of Don, and Gilvaethwy the son of Don; unto me they did wrong, and unto thee dishonour."
"Verily,"
he exclaimed, "I will do to the utmost of my power concerning this matter.
But first I will cause thee to have compensation, and then will I have amends
made unto myself. As for thee, I will take thee to be my wife, and the
possession of my dominions will I give unto thy hands."
And Gwydion and Gilvaethwy came not near the Court, but stayed in the confines
of the land until it was forbidden to give them meat and drink. At first they
came not near unto Math, but at the last they came. "Lord," said they,
"Good day to thee."
"Well," said he, "is it to make me compensation that ye are come?"
"Lord," they said, "we are at thy will."
"By
my will I would not have lost my warriors, and so many arms as I have done. You
cannot compensate me my shame, setting aside the death of Pryderi. But since ye
come hither to be at my will, I shall begin your punishment forthwith."
Then he took his magic wand, and struck Gilvaethwy, so that he became a deer,
and he seized upon the other hastily lest he should escape from him. And he
struck him with the same magic wand, and he became a deer also. "Since now
ye are in bonds, I will that ye go forth together and be companions, and possess
the nature of the animals whose form ye bear. And this day twelvemonth come
hither unto me."
At the end of a year from that day, lo there was a loud noise under the chamber
wall, and the barking of the dogs of the palacee together with the noise.
"Look," said he, "what is without."
"Lord,"
said one, "I have looked; there are there two deer, and a fawn with
them." Then he arose and went out. And when he came he beheld the three
animals. And he lifted up his wand. "As ye were deer last year, be ye wild
hogs each and either of you, for the year that is to come." And thereupon
he struck them with the magic wand. The young one will I take and cause to be
baptized." Now the name that he gave him was Hydwn. "Go ye and be wild
swine, each and either of you, and be ye of the nature of wild swine. And this
day twelvemonth be ye here under the wall."
At the end of the year the barking of dogs was heard under the wall of the
chamber. And the Court assembled, and thereupon he arose and went forth, and
when he came forth he beheld three beasts. Now these were the beasts that he
saw; two wild hogs of the woods, and a well-grown young one with them. And he
was very large for his age. "Truly," said Math, "this one will I
take and cause to be baptized." And he struck him with his magic wand, and
he became a fine fair auburn-haired youth, and the name that he gave him was
Hychdwn. "Now as for you, as ye were wild hogs last year, be ye wolves each
and either of you for the year that is to come." Thereupon he struck them
with his magic wand, and they became wolves. "And be ye of like nature with
the animals whose semblance ye bear, and return here this day twelvemonth
beneath this wall."
And at the same day at the end of the year, he heard a clamour and a barking of
dogs under the wall of the chamber. And he rose and went forth. And when he
came, behold, he saw two wolves, and a strong cub with them. "This one will
I take," said Math, "and I will cause him to be baptized; there is a
name prepared for him, and that is Bleiddwn. Now these three, such are they:
"The
three sons of Gilvaethwy the false,
The three faithful combatants,
Bleiddwn, Hydwn, and Hychdwn the Tall."
Then
he struck the two with his magic wand, and they resumed their own nature.
"Oh men," said he, "for the wrong that ye did unto me sufficient
has been your punishment and your dishonour. Prepare now precious ointment for
these men, and wash their heads, and equip them." And this was done.
And after they were equipped, they came unto him. "Oh men," said he,
"you have obtained peace, and you shall likewise have friendship. Give your
counsel unto me, what maiden I shall seek."
"Lord," said Gwydion the son of Don, "it is easy to give thee counsel; seek Arianrod, the daughter of Don, thy niece, thy sister's daughter."
And they brought her unto him, and the maiden came in. "Ha, damsel," said he, "art thou the maiden?"
"I know not, lord, other than that I am." Then he took up his magic wand, and bent it.
"Step
over this," said he, "and I shall know if thou art the maiden."
Then stepped she over the magic wand, and there appeared forthwith a fine chubby
yellow-haired boy. And at the crying out of the boy, she went towards the door.
And thereupon some small form was seen; but before any one could get a second
glimpse of it, Gwydion had taken it, and had flang a scarf of velvet around it
and hidden it. Now the place where he hid it was the bottom of a chest at the
foot of his bed.
"Verily," said Math the son of Mathonwy, concerning the fine
yellow-haired boy, "I will cause this one to be baptized, and Dylan is the
name I will give him."
So they had the boy baptized, and as they baptized him he plunged into the sea.
And immediately when he was in the sea, he took its nature, and swam as well as
the best fish that was therein. And for that reason was he called Dylan, the son
of the Wave. Beneath him no wave ever broke. And the blow whereby he came to his
death, was struck by his uncle Govannion. The third fatal blow was it called.
As Gwydion lay one morning on his bed awake, he heard a cry in the chest at his
feet; and though it was not loud, it was such that he could hear it. Then he
arose in haste, and opened the chest: and when he opened it, he beheld an infant
boy stretching out his arms from the folds of the scarf, and casting it aside.
And he took up the boy in his arms, and carried him to a place where he knew
there was a woman that could nurse him. And he agreed with the woman that she
should take charge of the boy. And that year he was nursed.
And at the end of the year he seemed by his size as though he were two years
old. And the second year he was a big child, and able to go to the Court by
himself. And when he came to the Court, Gwydion noticed him, and the boy became
familiar with him, and loved him better than any one else. Then was the boy
reared at the Court until he was four years old, when he was as big as though he
had been eight.
And one day Gwydion walked forth, and the boy followed him, and he went to the
Castle of Arianrod, having the boy with him; and when he came into the Court,
Arianrod arose to meet him, and greeted him and bade him welcome. "Heaven
prosper thee," said he.
"Who is the boy that followeth thee?" she asked.
"This youth, he is thy son," he answered.
"Alas," said she, "what has come unto thee that thou shouldst shame me thus, wherefore dost thou seek my dishonour, and retain it so long as this?"
"Unless thou suffer dishonour greater than that of my bringing up such a boy as this, small will be thy disgrace."
"What is the name of the boy?" said she.
"Verily," he replied, "he has not yet a name."
"Well," she said, "I lay this destiny upon him, that he shall never have a name until he receives one from me."
"Heaven
bears me witness," answered he, "that thou art a wicked woman. But the
boy shall have a name how displeasing soever it may be unto thee. As for thee,
that which afflicts thee is that thou art no longer called a damsel." And
thereupon he went forth in wrath, and returned to Caer Dathyl, and there he
tarried that night.
And the next day he arose and took the boy with him, and went to walk on the sea
shore between that place and Aber Menei. And there he saw some sedges and sea
weed, and he turned them into a boat. And out of dry sticks and sedges he made
some Cordovan leather, and a great deal thereof, and be coloured it in such a
manner that no one ever saw leather more beautiful than it. Then he made a sail
to the boat, and he and the boy went in it to the port of the castle of Arianrod.
And he began forming shoes and stitching them, until he was observed from the
castle. And when he knew that they of the castle were observing him, he
disguised his aspect, and put another semblance upon himself, and upon the boy,
so that they might not be known. "What men are those in yonder boat?"
said Arianrod.
"They are cordwainers," answered they.
"Go
and see what kind of leather they have, and what kind of work they can do."
So they came unto them. And when they came he was colouring some Cordovan
leather, and gilding it. And the messengers came and told her this.
"Well," said she, "take the measure of my foot, and desire the
cordwainer to make shoes for me." So he made the shoes for her, yet not
according to the measure, but larger. The shoes then were brought unto her, and
behold they were too large. "These are too large," said she, "but
he shall receive their value. Let him also make some that are smaller than
they." Then he made her others that were much smaller than her foot, and
sent them unto her. "Tell him that these will not go on my feet," said
she. And they told him this.
"Verily," said he, "I will not make her any shoes, unless I see her foot." And this was told unto her.
"Truly,"
she answered, "I will go unto him."
So she went down to the boat, and when she came there, he was shaping shoes and
the boy stitching them. "Ah lady," said he, "good day to
thee."
"Heaven prosper thee," said she. "I marvel that then canst not manage to make shoes according to a measure."
"I
could not," he replied, "but now I shall be able."
Thereupon behold a wren stood upon the deck of the boat, and the boy shot at it,
and hit it in the leg between the sinew and the bone. Then she smiled.
"Verily," said she, "with a steady hand did the lion aim at
it."
"Heaven reward thee not, but now has he got a name. And a good enough name
it is. Llew Llaw Gyffes be he called henceforth."
Then the work disappeared in sea weed and sedges, and he went on with it no
further. And for that reason was he called the third Gold-shoemaker. "Of a
truth," said she, thou wilt not thrive the better for doing evil unto
me."
"I have done thee no evil yet," said he. Then he restored the boy to his own form.
"Well," said she, "I will lay a destiny upon this boy, that he shall never have arms and armour until I invest him with them."
"By
Heaven," said he, "Let thy malice be what it may, he shall have
arms."
Then they went towards Dinas Dinllev, and there he brought up Llew Llaw Gyffes,
until he could manage any horse, and he was perfect in features, and strength,
and stature. And then Gwydion saw that he languished through the want of horses,
and arms. And he called him unto him. "Ah, youth," said he, "we
will go to-morrow on an errand together. Be therefore more cheerful than thou
art."
"That
I will," said the youth.
Next morning, at the dawn of day, they arose. And they took way along the sea
coast, up towards Bryn Aryen. And at the top of Cevn Clydno they equipped
themselves with horses, and went towards the Castle of Arianrod. And they
changed their form, and pricked towards the gate in the semblance of two youths,
but the aspect of Gwydion was more staid than that of the other.
"Porter," said he, "go thou in and say that there are here bards
from Glamorgan." And the porter went in. "The welcome of Heaven be
unto them, let them in," said Arianrod.
With
great joy were they greeted. And the hall was arranged, and they went to meat.
When meat was ended, Arianrod discoursed with Gwydion of tales and stories. Now
Gwydion was an excellent teller of tales. And when it was time to leave off
feasting, a chamber was prepared for them, and they went to rest.
In the early twilight Gwydion arose, and he called unto him his magic and his
power. And by the time that the day dawned, there resounded through the land
uproar, and trumpets, and shouts. When it was now day, they heard a knocking at
the door of the chamber, and therewith Arianrod asking that it might be opened.
Up rose the youth and opened unto her, and she entered and a maiden with her.
"Ah, good men," she said, "in evil plight are we."
"Yes, truly," said Gwydion, " we have heard trumpets, and shouts; what thinkest thou that they may mean?"
"Verily," said she, "we cannot see the colour of the ocean by reason of all the ships, side by side. And they are making for the land with all the speed they can. And what can we do?" said she.
"Lady," said Gwydion, "there is none other counsel than to close the castle upon us, and to defend it as best we may."
"Truly," said she, "may Heaven reward you. And do you defend it. And here may you have plenty of arms."
And thereupon went she forth for the arms, and behold she returned, and two maidens, and suits of armour for two men, with her.
"Lady," said he, "do thou accoutre this stripling, and I will arm myself with the help of thy maidens. Lo, I hear the tumult of the men approaching."
"I will do so, gladly." So she armed him fully, and that right cheerfully.
"Hast thou finished arming the youth?" said he.
"I have finished," she answered.
"I likewise have finished," said Gwydion. "Let us now take off our arms, we have no need of them."
"Wherefore?" said she. "Here is the army around the house."
"Oh, lady, there is here no army."
"Oh," cried she, "whence then was this tumult?"
"The tumult was but to break thy prophecy and to obtain arms for thy son. And now has he got arms without any thanks unto thee."
"By Heaven," said Arianrod, "thou art a wicked man. Many a youth might have lost his life through the uproar thou hast caused in this Cantrev to-day. Now will I lay a destiny upon this youth," she said, "that he shall never have a wife of the race that now inhabits this earth."
"Verily,"
said he, "thou wast ever a malicious woman, and no one ought to support
thee. A wife shall he have notwithstanding."
They went thereupon unto Math the son Mathonwy, and complained unto him most
bitterly of Arianrod. Gwydion showed him also how he had procured arms for the
youth. "Well," said Math, "we will seek, I and thou, by charms
and illusion, to form a wife for him out of flowers. He has now come to man's
stature, and he is the comeliest youth that was ever beheld." So they took
the blossoms of the oak, and the blossoms of the broom, and the blossoms of the
meadowsweet, and produced from them a maiden, the fairest and most graceful that
man ever saw. And they baptized her, and gave her the name of Blodeuwedd.
After she had become his bride, and they had feasted, said Gwydion, "It is
not easy for a man to maintain himself without possessions."
"Of a truth," said Math, "I will give the young man the best Cantrev to hold."
"Lord," said he, "what Cantrev is that?"
"The
Cantrev of Dinodig," he answered. Now it is called at this day Eivionydd
and Ardudwy. And the place in the Cantrev where he dwelt, was a palace of his in
a spot called Mur y Castell, on the confines of Ardudwy. There dwelt he and
reigned, and both he and his sway were beloved by all.
One day he went forth to Caer Dathyl, to visit Math the son of Mathonwy. And on
the day that he set out for Caer Dathyl, Blodeuwedd walked in the court. And she
heard the sound of a horn. And after the sound of the horn, behold a tired stag
went by, with dogs and huntsmen following it. And after the dogs and the
huntsmen there came a crowd of men on foot. "Send a youth," said she,
" to ask who yonder host may be." So a youth went, and inquired who
they were. "Gronw Pebyr is this, the lord of Penllynn," said they. And
thus the youth told her.
Gronw Pebyr pursued the stag, and by the river Cynvael he overtook the stag and killed it. And what with flaying the stag and baiting his dogs, he was there until the night began to close in upon him. And as the day departed and the night drew near, he came to the gate of the Court. "Verily," said Blodeuwedd, "the Chieftain will speak ill of us if we let him at this hour depart to another land without inviting him in."
"Yes,
truly, lady," said they, "it will be most fitting to invite him."
Then went messengers to meet him and bid him in. And he accepted her bidding
gladly, and came to the Court, and Blodeuwedd went to meet him and greeted him,
and bade him welcome. "Lady," said he, "Heaven repay thee thy
kindness."
When the had disaccoutred themselves, they went to sit down. And Blodeuwedd
looked upon him, and from the moment that she looked on him she became filled
with his love. And he gazed on her, and the same thought came unto him as unto
her, so that he could not conceal from her that he loved her, but he declared
unto her that he did so. Thereupon she was very joyful. And all their discourse
that night was concerning the affection and love which they felt one for the
other, and which in no longer space than one evening had arisen. And that
evening passed they in each other's company.
The next day he sought to depart. But she said, "I pray thee go not from me to-day." And that night he tarried also. And that night they consulted by what means they might always be together. "There is none other counsel," said he, "but that thou strive to learn from Llew Llaw Gyffes in what manner he will meet his death. And this must thou do under the semblance of solicitude concerning him."
The next day Gronw sought to depart. "Verily," said she, "I will counsel thee not to go from me to-day."
"At thy instance will I not go," said he, "albeit, I must say, there is danger that the chief who owns the palace may return home."
"To-morrow," answered she, "will I indeed permit thee to go forth."
The next day he sought to go, and she hindered him not. "Be mindful," said Gronw, "of what I have said unto thee, and converse with him fully, and that under the guise of the dalliance of love, and find out by what means he may come to his death."
That night Llew Llaw Gyffes returned to his home. And the day they spent in discourse, and minstrelsy, and feasting. And at night they went to rest, and he spoke to Blodeuwedd once, and he spoke to her a second time. But, for all this, he could not get from her one word. "What aileth thee," said he, " art thou well?"
"I was thinking," said she, "of that which thou didst never think of concerning me; for I was sorrowful as to thy death, lest thou shouldst go sooner than I."
"Heaven reward thy care for me," said he, "but until Heaven take me I shall not easily be slain."
"For the sake of Heaven, and for mine, show me how thou mightest be slain. My memory in guarding is better than thine."
"I will tell thee gladly," said he. "Not easily can I be slain, except by a wound. And the spear wherewith I am struck must be a year in the forming. And nothing must be done towards it except during the sacrifice on Sundays."
"Is this certain?" asked she.
"It is in truth," he answered. "And I cannot be slain within a house, nor without. I cannot be slain on horseback nor on foot."
"Verily,"
said she, "in what manner then canst thou be slain?"
"I will tell thee," said he. "By making a bath for me by the side
of a river, and by putting a roof over the cauldron, and thatching it well and
tightly, and bringing a buck, and putting it beside the cauldron. Then if I
place one foot on the buck's back, and the other on the edge of the cauldron,
whosoever strikes me thus will cause my death."
"Well," said she, "I thank Heaven that it will be easy to avoid
this."
No sooner had she held this discourse than she sent to Gronw Pebyr. Gronw toiled
at making the spear, and that day twelvemonth it was ready. And that very day he
caused her to be informed thereof.
"Lord," said Blodeuwedd unto Llew, "I have been thinking how it
is possible that what thou didst tell me formerly can be true; wilt thou show me
in what manner thou couldst stand at once upon the edge of a cauldron and upon a
buck, if I prepare the bath for thee?" "I will show thee," said
he.
Then she sent unto Gronw, and bade him be in ambush on the hill which is now
called Bryn Kyvergyr, on the bank of the river Cynvael. She caused also to be
collected all the goats that were in the Cantrev, and had them brought to the
other side of the river, opposite Bryn Kyvergyr.
And the next day she spoke thus. "Lord," said she, "I have caused
the roof and the bath to be prepared, and lo! they are ready."
"Well," said Llew, "we will go gladly to look at them."
The day after they came and looked at the bath. "Wilt thou go into the
bath, lord?" said she.
"Willingly will I go in," he answered. So into the bath he went, and
he anointed himself.
"Lord," said she, "behold the animals which thou didst speak of
as being called bucks."
"Well," said he, cause one of them to be caught and brought
here." And the buck was brought. Then Llew rose out of the bath, and put on
his trowsers, and he placed one foot on the edge of the bath and the other on
the buck's back.
Thereupon Gronw rose up from the hill which is called Bryn Cyvergyr, and he
rested on one knee, and flung the poisoned dart and struck him on the side, so
that the shaft started out, but the head of the dart remained in. Then he flew
up in the form of an eagle and gave a fearful scream. And thenceforth was he no
more seen.
As soon as he departed Gronw and Blodeuwedd went together unto the palace that
night. And the next day Gronw arose and took possession of Ardudwy. And after he
had overcome the land, he ruled over it, so that Ardudwy and Penllyn were both
under his sway.
Then these tidings reached Math the son of Mathonwy. And heaviness and grief
came upon Math, and much more upon Gwydion than upon him. "Lord," said
Gwydion, "I shall never rest until I have tidings of my nephew."
"Verily," said Math, "may Heaven be thy strength." Then
Gwydion set forth and began to go forward. And he went through Gwynedd and Powys
to the confines. And when he had done so, he went into Arvon, and came to the
house of a vassal, in Maenawr Penardd. And he alighted at the house, and stayed
there that night. The man of the house and his household came in, and last of
all came there the swineherd. Said the man of the house to the swineherd,
"Well, youth, hath thy sow come in to-night?"
"She hath," said he, "and is this instant returned to the
pigs."
"Where doth this sow go to?" said Gwydion. "Every day, when the
sty is opened, she goeth forth and none can catch sight of her, neither is it
known whither she goeth more than if she sank into the earth."
"Wilt thou grant unto me," said Gwydion, "not to open the sty
until I am beside the sty with thee."
"This will I do, right gladly," he answered.
That night they went to rest; and as soon as the swineherd saw the light of day, he awoke Gwydion. And Gwydion arose and dressed himself, and went with the swineherd, and stood beside the sty. Then the swineherd opened the sty. And as soon as he opened it, behold she leaped forth, and set off with great speed. And Gwydion followed her, and she went against the course of a river, and made for a brook, which is, now called Nant y Llew. And there she halted and began feeding. And Gwydion came under the tree, and looked what it might be that the sow was feeding on. And he saw that she was eating putrid flesh and vermin. Then looked he up to the top of the tree, and as he looked he beheld on the top of the tree an eagle, and when the eagle shook itself, there fell vermin and putrid flesh from off it, and these the sow devoured. And it seemed to him that the eagle was Llew. And he sang an Englyn:--
"Oak
that grows between the two banks;
Darkened is the sky and hill!
Shall I not tell him by his wounds,
That this is Llew?"
Upon this the eagle came down until he reached the centre of the tree. And Gwydion sang another Englyn:--
"Oak
that grows in upland ground, Is it not wetted by the rain?
Has it not been drenched By nine score tempests?
It bears in its branches Llew Llaw Gyffes!"
Then the eagle came down until he was on the lowest branch of the tree, and thereupon this Englyn did Gwydion sing:--
"Oak
that grows beneath the steep;
Stately and majestic is its aspect!
Shall I not speak it?
That Llew will come to my lap?"
And the eagle came down upon Gwydion's knee. And Gwydion struck him with his magic wand, so that he returned to his own form. No one ever saw a more piteous sight, for he was nothing but skin and bone.
Then he went unto Caer Dathyl, and there were brought unto him good physicians that were in Gwynedd, and before the end of the year he was quite healed.
"Lord," said he unto Math the son of Mathonwy, "it is fall time now that I have retribution of him by whom I have suffered all this woe."
"Truly," said Math, "he will never be able to maintain himself in the possession of that which is thy right."
"Well,"
said Llew, "the sooner I have my right, the better shall I be
pleased."
Then they called together the whole of Gwynedd, and set forth to Ardudwy. And
Gwydion went on before and proceeded to Mur y Castell. And when Blodeuwedd heard
that he was coming, she took her maidens with her, and fled to the mountain. And
they passed through the river Cynvael, and went towards a court that there was
upon the mountain, and through fear they could not proceed except with their
faces looking backwards, so that unawares they fell into the lake.
And they were all drowned except Blodeuwedd herself, and her Gwydion overtook.
And he said unto her, "I will not slay thee, but I will do unto thee worse
than that. For I will turn thee into a bird; and because of the shame thou hast
done unto Llew Llaw Gyffes, thou shalt never show thy face in the light of day
henceforth; and that through fear of all the other birds. For it shall be their
nature to attack thee, and to chase thee from wheresoever they may find thee.
And thou shalt not lose thy name, but shalt be always called Blodeuwedd."
Now Blodeuwedd is an owl in the language of this present time, and for this
reason is the owl hateful unto all birds. And even now the owl is called
Blodeuwedd.
Then Gronw Pebyr withdrew unto Penllyn, and he despatched thence an embassy. And
the messengers he sent asked Llew Llaw Gyffes, if he would take land, or domain,
or gold, or silver, for the injury he had received. "I will not, by my
confession to Heaven," said he. "Behold this is the least that I will
accept from him; that he come to the spot where I was when he wounded me with
the dart, and that I stand where he did, and that with a dart I take my aim at
him. And this is the very least that I will accept."
And this was told unto Gronw Pebyr. "Verily," said he, "is it
needful for me to do thus? My faithful warriors, and my household, and my
foster-brothers, is there not one among you who will stand the blow in my stead?
There is not, verily," answered they. And because of their refusal to
suffer one stroke for their lord, they are called the third disloyal tribe even
unto this day. "Well," said he, "I will meet it."
Then they two went forth to the banks of the river Cynvael, and Gronw stood in
the place where Llew Llaw Gyffes was when he struck him, and Llew in the place
where Gronw was. Then said Gronw Pebyr unto Llew, "Since it was through the
wiles of a woman that I did unto thee as I have done, I adjure thee by Heaven to
let me place between me and the blow, the slab thou seest yonder on the river's
bank."
"Verily,"
said Llew, "I will not refuse thee this." "Ah," said he,
"may Heaven reward thee." So Gronw took the slab and placed it between
him and the blow.
Then Llew flung the dart at him, and it pierced the slab and went through Gronw
likewise, so that it pierced through his back. And thus was Gronw Pebyr slain.
And there is still the slab on the bank of the river Cynvael, in Ardudwy, having
the hole through it. And therefore is it even now called Llech Gronw.
A second time did Llew Llaw Gyffes take possession of the land, and prosperously
did he govern it. And as the story relates, he was lord after this over Gwynedd.
And thus ends this portion of the Mabinogi.