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Books: The Mabinogion

U >> Unknown >> The Mabinogion




So he began his craft, and he made all his work of the finest leather
he could get in the town, and, as he had done at the other place, he
caused gilded clasps to be made for the shoes. And except himself
all the cordwainers in the town were idle, and without work. For as
long as they could be had from him, neither shoes nor hose were
bought elsewhere. And thus they tarried there a year, until the
cordwainers became envious, and took counsel concerning him. And he
had warning thereof, and it was told him how the cordwainers had
agreed together to slay him.

"Lord," said Kicva, "wherefore should this be borne from these
boors?" "Nay," said he, "we will go back unto Dyved." So towards
Dyved they set forth.

Now Manawyddan, when he set out to return to Dyved, took with him a
burden of wheat. And he proceeded towards Narberth, and there he
dwelt. And never was he better pleased than when he saw Narberth
again, and the lands where he had been wont to hunt with Pryderi and
with Rhiannon. And he accustomed himself to fish, and to hunt the
deer in their covert. And then he began to prepare some ground, and
he sowed a croft, and a second, and a third. And no wheat in the
world ever sprung up better. And the three crofts prospered with
perfect growth, and no man ever saw fairer wheat than it.

And thus passed the seasons of the year until the harvest came. And
he went to look at one of his crofts, and behold it was ripe. "I
will reap this to-morrow," said he. And that night he went back to
Narberth, and on the morrow in the grey dawn he went to reap the
croft, and when he came there he found nothing but the bare straw.
Every one of the ears of the wheat was cut from off the stalk, and
all the ears carried entirely away, and nothing but the straw left.
And at this he marvelled greatly.

Then he went to look at another croft, and behold that also was ripe.
"Verily," said he, "this will I reap to-morrow. And on the morrow he
came with the intent to reap it, and when he came there he found
nothing but the bare straw. "Oh, gracious Heaven," he exclaimed, "I
know that whosoever has begun my ruin is completing it, and has also
destroyed the country with me."

Then he went to look at the third croft, and when he came there,
finer wheat had there never been seen, and this also was ripe. "Evil
betide me," said he, "if I watch not here to-night. Whoever carried
off the other corn will come in like manner to take this. And I will
know who it is." So he took his arms, and began to watch the croft.
And he told Kicva all that had befallen. "Verily," said she, "what
thinkest thou to do?" "I will watch the croft to-night," said he.

And he went to watch the croft. And at midnight, lo, there arose the
loudest tumult in the world. And he looked, and behold the mightiest
host of mice in the world, which could neither be numbered nor
measured. And he knew not what it was until the mice had made their
way into the croft, and each of them climbing up the straw and
bending it down with its weight, had cut off one of the ears of
wheat, and had carried it away, leaving there the stalk, and he saw
not a single stalk 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
succour this reptile, except to prevent discredit unto thee. Do
therefore, lord, as thou wilt." "If I knew of any cause in the world
wherefore thou shouldst succour it, I would take thy counsel
concerning it," said Manawyddan, "but as I know of none, lady, I am
minded to destroy it." "Do so willingly then," said she.

And then he went to the Gorsedd of Narberth, taking the mouse with
him. And he set up two forks on the highest part of the Gorsedd.
And while he was doing this, behold he saw a scholar coming towards
him, in old and poor and tattered garments. And it was now seven
years since he had seen in that place either man or beast, except
those four persons who had remained together until two of them were
lost.

"My lord," said the scholar, "good day to thee." "Heaven prosper
thee, and my greeting be unto thee. And whence dost thou come,
scholar?" asked he. "I come, lord, from singing in 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 at. As it ought, so shall it be hanged."
"Willingly, lord, do thy good pleasure." And the priest went his
way.

Then he noosed the string around the mouse's neck, and as he was
about to draw it up, behold, he saw a bishop's retinue with his
sumpter-horses, and his attendants. And the bishop himself came
towards him. And he stayed his work. "Lord bishop," said he, "thy
blessing." "Heaven's blessing be unto thee," said he; "what work art
thou upon?" "Hanging a thief that I caught robbing me," said he.
"Is not that a mouse that I see in thy hand?" "Yes," answered he.
"And she has robbed me." "Aye," said he, "since I have come at the
doom of this reptile, I will ransom it of thee. I will give thee
seven pounds for it, and that rather than see a man of rank equal to
thine destroying so vile a reptile as this. Let it loose and thou
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 Annwvyn played upon him, which he did
unadvisedly in the Court of Heveydd Hen. And when it was known that
thou wast come to dwell in the land, my household came and besought
me to transform them into mice, that they might destroy thy corn.
And it was my own household that went the first night. And the
second night also they went, and they destroyed thy two crofts. And
the third night came unto me my wife and the ladies of the Court, and
besought me to transform them. And I transformed them. Now she is
pregnant. And had she not been pregnant thou wouldst not have been
able to overtake her; but since this has taken place, and she has
been caught, I will restore thee Pryderi and Rhiannon; and I will
take the charm and illusion from off Dyved. I have now told thee who
she is. Set her therefore free." "I will not set her free, by
Heaven," said he. "What wilt thou more?" he asked. "I will that
there be no more charm upon the seven Cantrevs of Dyved, and that
none shall be put upon it henceforth." "This thou shalt have," said
he. "Now set her free." "I will not, by my faith," he answered.
"What wilt thou furthermore?" asked he. "Behold," said he, "this
will I have; that vengeance be never taken for this, either upon
Pryderi or Rhiannon, or upon me." "All this shalt thou have. And
truly thou hast done wisely in asking this. Upon thy head would have
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 Llwyd 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.

And thus ends this portion of the Mabinogi.



MATH THE SON OF MATHONWY
THIS IS THE FOURTH PORTION OF THE MABINOGI



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 sisters, 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 Annwvyn, by Arawn the king of Annwvyn, and
still they keep that name, half hog, half pig." "Verily," asked he,
"and by what means may they be obtained from him?" "I will go, lord,
as one of twelve, in the guise of bards, to seek the swine." "But it
may be that he will refuse you," said he. "My journey will not be
evil, lord," said he; "I will not come back without the swine."
"Gladly," said he, "go thou forward."

So he and Gilvaethwy went, and ten other men with them. And they
came into Ceredigiawn, to the place that is now called Rhuddlan
Teivi, where the palace of Pryderi was. In the guise of bards they
came in, and they were received joyfully, and Gwydion was placed
beside Pryderi that night.

"Of a truth," said Pryderi, "gladly would I have a tale from some of
your men yonder." "Lord," said Gwydion, "we have a custom that the
first night that we come to the Court of a great man, the chief of
song recites. Gladly will I relate a tale." Now Gwydion was the
best teller of tales in the world, and he diverted all the Court that
night with pleasant discourse and with tales, so that he charmed
every one in the Court, and it pleased Pryderi to talk with him.

And after this, "Lord," said he unto Pryderi, "were it more pleasing
to thee, that another should discharge my errand unto thee, than that
I should tell thee myself what it is?" "No," he answered, "ample
speech hast thou." "Behold then, lord," said he, "my errand. It is
to crave from thee the animals that were sent thee from Annwvyn."
"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 to-morrow."

And that night they journeyed as far as the upper part of
Ceredigiawn, to the place which, from that cause, is called Mochdrev
still. And the next day they took their course through Melenydd, and
came that night to the town which is likewise for that reason called
Mochdrev between Keri and Arwystli. And thence they journeyed
forward; and that night they came as far as that Commot in Powys,
which also upon account thereof is called Mochnant, and there tarried
they that night. And they journeyed thence to the Cantrev of Rhos,
and the place where they were that night is still called Mochdrev.

"My men," said Gwydion, "we must push forward to the fastnesses of
Gwynedd with these animals, for there is a gathering of hosts in
pursuit of us." So they journeyed on to the highest town of
Arllechwedd, and there they made a sty for the swine, and therefore
was the name of Creuwyryon given to that town. And after they had
made the sty for the swine, they proceeded to Math the son of
Mathonwy, at 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 Caer Dathyl; 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 dispatched 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 Caer Dathyl. 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."