★ My retelling ~
★ Middle Welsh.
★ William Owen Pughe.
★ Charlotte Guest.
Powell, Prince of Dyfed is the first 'branch' of the four core stories of the Mabinogion. Essentially, once upon a time, Pwyll was out hunting when he heard dogs that weren't his own. Pwyll was startled to find that their bodies glittered white, and their ears were red. Pwyll drove these dogs away from a stag they had killed, and urged his own dogs forward in their stead. Naturally that was the moment the owner of the strange looking dogs rode into view on a grey horse, with a hunting horn hanging around his neck.
This newcomer looked Pwyll over and told him, "I don't know you so I shan't greet you."
"Too high and mighty, are you?"
"It's the discourtesy of the thing," the stranger corrected. "To send a man's dogs away and claim their kill for his own. Never have I known such an insult!"
Pwyll, chastened, asked how he might redeem himself. At the very least, he would like to know the stranger's name.
"I'm a crowned King in the land I come from," the stranger said and then, at Pwyll's urging, elaborated, "I am Arawn, a King of Annwn [the Underworld]."
Arawn went on to explain how Pywll could make things up to him. Back in Annwn there was a rival King, Havgan, who was causing much suffering and misery. Arawn put it to Pwyll that the two of them might switch places - Pywll to his own realm in the Underworld, and Arawn to Pwyll's kingdom of Dyfed. In this way Pwyll could rid Arawn of Havgan and, thanks to the power of magic, nobody around them would be any the wiser of their subterfuge.
So Pwyll duly went to Arawn's palace, where he ate the best food, heard the sweetest music, and looked upon Arawn's Queen, the fairest woman he had ever seen. The whole year he spent in happiness until the time came to confront Havgan. With but a single blow Pwyll smashed Havgan's armour and had the man fighting for his last breath. By the following afternoon Pwyll had united the two kingdoms and went to tell Arawn the good news.
Arawn thanked Pywll, and promised that when he returned to Dyfed he would not be disappointed with his own work. Indeed, when Pywll told his nearest and dearest of all that had passed, they informed him that never had he ruled so wisely and justly as he had during that past year!
Afterwards Arawn and Pywll stayed in touch, exchanging horses and dogs, and because of the connection Pywll became known as Pywll, Lord of Annwn.
Another time, Pwyll was at a great feast where he heard a tale of a nearby hill. Anybody who sat atop it, so they said, would either receive a blow or witness a wonder. Pwyll, keen to prove his bravery, set out to try it. There he saw a beautiful woman garbed in a shining golden gown, riding a large white horse. None of his men recognised her, and when Pwyll attempted to catch up with her, the lady only ever seemed to get further away.
The next day he sent out one of his men with his fastest horse, but to no avail. No matter how fast the man rode, the woman never grew any closer, though her own speed remained the same. The day after Pwyll rode after her himself, with the same result. Finally, in frustration, Pwyll begged for the lady to stop.
"I shall gladly stop," she said. "And it would have been better for my poor horse if you had asked me sooner!"
Pwyll thinking her the most beautiful of all the women he had ever seen, wanted desperately to know everything about her: who she was, where she came from, and where she was going.
"I'll tell you," she said. "The purpose of my errand was to find you. I am Rhiannon, the daughter of Hyfaidd 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 you - neither will I have one yet one unless you reject me. I have travelled here to hear your answer."
"By Heaven," breathed Pwyll. "If I might choose among all the ladies and damsels in the world, I would choose you."
If that were so, Rhiannon said, then Pwyll would agree to meet her in twelve months time for a feast at her father's palace. Pwyll kept all this to himself, though his men asked him many questions, until a year had almost passed. Then he gathered a hundred of his most loyal knights and went to keep his appointment.
When he arrived Pwyll was greeted with great joy and ceremony, so the feast was in full swing and Pwyll in the greatest of spirits by the time an auburn haired youth entered the hall, dressed in satin and holding himself with the bearing of royalty.
"Come, sit with us!" Pwyll called.
"I'd sooner not," the stranger answered. "I am here on an errand."
"Go ahead," said Pwyll magnanimously.
"It is you my errand concerns. I have come to ask of you a boon."
"Well, then anything I am able to give, you shall have!"
"What on earth did you say that for!?" demanded Rhiannon, aghast, but it was too late.
"You are set to marry the woman I love," the youth said. "I came here to ask you for her and this wedding feast."
Pwyll resolved immediately to do no such thing, but Rhiannon hurriedly explained to him that he had no choice. This was the man her father would have bethrothed her to, Gwawl the son of Clud, and if Pwyll were not to keep his word, the shame of it would never be forgotten.
"No," Rhiannon whispered, laying out her plan, "this is what you must do. The feast is not yours to give, so that is no problem. As to the other issue, take this bag and keep it about your person. You will return here in exactly one year, disguised as a beggar, and ask for naught but a bag full of food. Have your knights at the ready, with a signal prepared, and we shall yet have leave to be together."
To Gwawl she said, "This feast has been prepared for the men of Dyfed, and as such it is not in our power to give it to you. In a year from tonight a grand feast will be prepared in your honour, to celebrate the day I become your bride."
And so, a year to the day, the scene resumed with Gwawl at the high table and Pwyll garbed in the rags of a beggar. When Gwawl asked what he wanted, Pwyll told him he had come to ask a favour.
"Any request that is reasonable," Gwawl said, "I shall happily grant."
"I want nothing but this small bag to be filled with food," said Pwyll.
This request was duly granted but no matter how much was put into the bag, it never got any fuller.
"The only way it will ever be full," Pwyll explained finally, "is if a great man should tread the contents down and proclaim 'enough is enough'."
Gwawl wasted no time and climbed into the bag to tread the food down. As soon as he was in Pywll shut the bag up, and signalled for his knights to come forth and beat the 'badger' in the bag. In this way Gwawl was convinced to relinquish his claim to Rhiannon and, with Hyfaidd Hen standing surety, returned to his own lands.
Rhiannon and Pwyll returned to Dyfed, and ruled there happily for a year, and then two. But in the third year Pwyll's men began to worry about his lack of heir, and advised him to take another wife. Pwyll demurred, telling them that there was yet plenty of time and he would consider the issue again if Rhiannon was not pregnant in twleve months time.
As it was, a son was born to Pwyll before the year was out, Rhiannon attended by six ladies-in-waiting. However during that first night the women fell asleep and, upon awaking, found the child missing. Afraid of being punished, they smeared the sleeping Rhiannon with the blood of several puppies and told everyone that Rhiannon had murdered her child and then eaten it.
This news quickly spread throughout the land and Pwyll's men beseeched him to divorce Rhiannon and find another wife. But Pwyll's resolve remained strong. The only way this could be forced was if Rhiannon was barren, and as she had proven herself capable of bearing a child, instead she would simply be punished for her crime.
Wise men were consulted and Rhiannon's penance decided upon. For seven years she was to sit at the gates and tell everyone the story of her wrongdoing. She would also offer to carry all visitors upon her back.
Now, at this same time, there was a great and just lord of Gwent, Teyrnon Twryf Lliant. Teyrnon owned the most magnificent horse in all the kingdom, and every May the horse gave birth to a foal - a foal Teyrnon never saw as, come morning, it was always missing. Finally, determined to solve the mystery, Teyrnon had the horse brought into the house where he could keep watch over it.
There the horse gave birth to a beautiful foal. Teyrnon was admiring the foal when he heard a great noise. Even as he rose to investigate a clawed arm reached through the window, grabbing the foal by the mane. Teyrnon struck out with his sword, severing the arm at the elbow, and rushed out to catch the culprit. Finding nothing, Teyrnon returned - to find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes on his doorstep.
This child, obviously of gentle lineage based on the quality of his satin mantle, Teyrnon and his wife determined to raise as their own. They christened him Gwri Wallt Euryn on account of his golden hair and watched on astounded as he grew at such a pace that by the age of two he was bigger than a six year old.
Word began to reach Teyrnon Twryf Lliant of strange happenings in Dyfed, and the penance that had been assigned to the Lady Rhiannon. His suspicions slowly grew into certainty and, after consulting with his wife, Teyrnon could not bear to keep the boy parted any longer from his mother.
Accordingly Teyrnon took the child to Dyfed, where he found Rhiannon sat at the gates, ready to recount her crimes to the new arrivals. Teyrnon instead explained the purpose of their visit, to which Rhiannon exclaimed that if the child were truly her son all her troubles ('Pryderi') were over. As these were the first words she said to him, Gwri Wally Euryn was renamed Pryderi.
Pryderi grew into a fine youth and, eventually, a wise and just King.
--
The moral of the story? Well, much finer academics than I have explored the point. For me, however, the takeaway message is kind of that the grass is always greener on the other side. It's all well and good for Pwyll and Arawn to have the time of their lives, but when a woman seeks to escape the life planned out for her.. You gotta wonder whether carrying all and sundry while you repeatedly confess to a crime you didn't commit was really an improvement on the court of Gwawl ap Clud!
Middle Welsh. The image above is the opening lines of the story from the Red Book of Hergest, a fourteenth century manuscript donated to Jesus College, Oxford, in 1701.
Pwyll Pendeuic Dyuet a oed yn arglwyd ar seith cantref Dyuet. A threigylgweith yd oed yn Arberth, prif lys idaw, a dyuot yn y uryt ac yn y uedwl uynet y hela. Sef kyueir o'y gyuoeth a uynnei y hela, Glynn Cuch. Ac ef a gychwynnwys y nos honno o Arberth, ac a doeth hyt ym Penn Llwyn Diarwya, ac yno y bu y nos honno. A thrannoeth yn ieuengtit y dyd kyuodi a oruc, a dyuot y Lynn Cuch i ellwng e gwn dan y coet. A chanu y gorn a dechreu dygyuor yr hela, a cherdet yn ol y cwn, ac ymgolli a'y gydymdeithon. Ac ual y byd yn ymwarandaw a llef yr erchwys, ef a glywei llef erchwys arall, ac nit oedynt unllef, a hynny yn dyuot yn erbyn y erchwys ef. Ac ef a welei lannerch yn y coet o uaes guastat; ac ual yd oed y erchwys ef yn ymgael ac ystlys y llannerch, ef a welei carw o ulaen yr erchwys arall. A pharth a pherued y llannerch, llyma yr erchwys a oed yn y ol yn ymordiwes ac ef, ac yn y uwrw y'r llawr.
Ac yna edrych ohonaw ef ar liw yr erchwys, heb hanbwyllaw edrych ar y carw. Ac o'r a welsei ef o helgwn y byt, ny welsei cwn un lliw ac wynt. Sef lliw oed arnunt, claerwyn llathreit, ac eu clusteu yn gochyon. Ac ual y llathrei wynnet y cwn, y llathrei cochet y clusteu. Ac ar hynny at y cwn y doeth ef, a gyrru yr erchwys a ladyssei y carw e ymdeith, a llithyaw y erchwys e hunan ar y carw.
Ac ual y byd yn llithiau y cwn, ef a welei uarchauc yn dyuot yn ol yr erchwys y ar uarch erchlas mawr; a chorn canu am y uynwgyl, a gwisc o urethyn llwyt tei amdanaw yn wisc hela. Ac ar hynny y marchawc a doeth attaw ef, a dywedut ual hynn wrthaw, "A unben," heb ef, "mi a wnn pwy wyt ti, ac ny chyuarchaf i well it."
"Ie," heb ef, "ac atuyd y mae arnat o anryded ual nas dylyei."
"Dioer," heb ef, "nyt teilygdawt uy anryded a'm etteil am hynny."
"A unben," heb ynteu, "beth amgen?"
"Y rof i a Duw," hep ynteu, "dy anwybot dy hun a'th ansyberwyt."
"Pa ansyberwyt, unben, a weleist ti arnaf i?"
"Ny weleis ansyberwyt uwy ar wr," hep ef, "no gyrru yr erchwys a ladyssei y carw e ymdeith, a llithiau dy erchwys dy hun arnaw; hynny," hep ef, "ansyberwyt oed: a chyn nyt ymdialwyf a thi, y rof i a Duw," hep ef, "mi a wnaf o anglot itt guerth can carw."
"A unbenn," hep ef, "o gwneuthum gam, mi a brynaf dy gerennyd."
"Pa delw," hep ynteu, "y pryny di?"
"Vrth ual y bo dy anryded, ac ny wnn i pwy wyt ti."
"Brenhin corunawc wyf i yn y wlat yd hanwyf oheni."
"Arglwyd," heb ynteu, "dyd da itt; a pha wlat yd hanwyt titheu oheni?"
"O Annwuyn," heb ynteu. "Arawn urenhin Annwuyn wyf i."
"Arglwyd," heb ynteu, "pa furyf y caf i dy gerennyd di?"
"Llyma wyd y kyffy," heb ynteu. "Gwr yssyd gyuerbyn y gyuoeth a'm kyuoeth inheu yn ryuelu arnaf yn wastat. Sef yw hwnnw, Hafgan urenhin o Annwuyn. Ac yr guaret gormes hwnnw y arnaf (a hynny a elly yn haut) y keffy uy gherennyd."
"Minnheu a wnaf hynny," heb ynteu, "yn llawen. A manac ditheu y mi pa furyf y gallwyf hynny."
"Managaf," heb ynteu. "Llyna ual y gelly; mi a wnaf a thi gedymdeithas gadarn. Sef ual y gwnaf, mi a'th rodaf di y'm lle i yn Annwuyn, ac a rodaf y wreic deccaf a weleist eiroet y gyscu gyt a thi beunoeth, a'm pryt innheu a'm ansawd arnat ti, hyt na bo na guas ystauell, na swydawc, na dyn arall o'r a'm canlynwys i yroet, a wyppo na bo miui uych ti. A hynny," heb ef, "hyt ym penn y ulwydyn o'r dyd auory. An kynnadyl yna yn y lle hon."
"Ie," heb ynteu, "kyt bwyf i yno hyt ympenn y ulwydyn, pa gyuarwyd a uyd ymi o ymgael a'r gwr a dywedy di?"
"Blwydyn," heb ef, "y heno, y mae oet y rof i ac ef, ar y ryt. A byd di i'm rith yno," heb ef, "ac un dyrnaut a rodych di idaw ef; ny byd byw ef o hwnnw. A chyt archo ef yti rodi yr eil, na dyro, yr a ymbilio a thi. Yr a rodwn i idau ef hagen, kystal a chynt yd ymladei a mi drannoeth."
"Ie," heb y Pwyll, "beth a wnaf i y'm kyuoeth?"
"Mi a baraf," hep yr Arawn, "na bo i'th gyuoeth na gwr na gwreic a wyppo na bo tidi wwyf i. A miui a af i'th le di."
"Yn llawenn," hep y Pwyll, "a miui a af ragof."
"Dilesteir uyd dy hynt ac ny russya dim ragot, yny delych y'm kyuoeth i: a mi a uydaf hebryngyat arnat."
Ef a'y hebryghaud yny welas y llys a'r kyuanned. "Llyna," hep ef, "y llys a'r kyuoeth i'th uedyant. A chyrch y llys. Nit oes yndi nep ni'th adnappo; ac wrth ual y guelych y guassanaeth yndi, yd adnabydy uoes y llys."
Kyrchu y llys a oruc ynteu. Ac yn y llys ef a welei hundyeu ac yneuadeu, ac ysteuyll, a'r ardurn teccaf a welsei neb o adeiladeu. Ac y'r neuad y gyrchwys y diarchenu. Ef a doeth makwyueit a gueisson ieueinc y diarchenu, a phaup ual y delynt kyuarch guell a wneynt idaw. Deu uarchauc a doeth i waret i wisc hela y amdanaw, ac y wiscaw eurwisc o bali amdanaw.
A'r neuad a gyweirwyt. Llyma y guelei ef teulu ac yniueroed, a'r niuer hardaf a chyweiraf o'r a welsei neb yn dyuot y mywn, a'r urenhines y gyt ac wynt, yn deccaf gwreic o'r a welsei neb, ac eurwisc amdanei o bali llathreit. Ac ar hynny, e ymolchi yd aethant, a chyrchu y bordeu a orugant, ac eisted a wnaethant ual hynn — y urenhines o'r neill parth idaw ef, a'r iarll, debygei ef, o'r parth arall. A dechreu ymdidan a wnaeth ef a'r urenhines. Ac o'r a welsei eiryoet wrth ymdidan a hi, dissymlaf gwreic a bonedigeidaf i hannwyt a'y hymdidan oed. A threulaw a wnaethant bwyt a llynn a cherdeu a chyuedach. O'r a welsei o holl lyssoed y dayar, llyna y llys diwallaf o uwyt a llynn, ac eur lestri, a theyrndlysseu.
Amser a doeth udunt e uynet e gyscu, ac y gyscu yd aethant, ef a'r urenhines. Y gyt ac yd aethant yn y guely ymchwelut e weneb at yr erchwyn a oruc ef, a'y geuyn attei hitheu. O hynny hyt trannoeth, ny dywot ef wrthi hi un geir. Trannoeth, tirionwch ac ymdidan hygar a uu y ryngthunt. Peth bynnac o garueidrwyd a wei y rungthunt y dyd, ni bu unnos hyt ym pen y ulwydyn amgen noc a uu y nos gyntaf.
Treulaw y ulwydyn a wnaeth trwy hela, a cherdeu, a chyuedach, a charueidrwyd, ac ymdidan a chedymdeithon, hyt y nos yd oet y gyfranc. Yn oet y nos honno, kystal y doi y gof y'r dyn eithaf yn yr holl gyuoeth yr oet [ac idaw ynteu]. Ac ynteu a doeth i'r oet, a guyrda y gyuoeth y gyt ac ef. Ac y gyt ac y doeth i'r ryt, marchawc a gyuodes y uynyd, ac a dywot wal hynn:
"A wyrda," heb ef, "ymwerendewch yn da. Y rwng y deu wrenhin y mae yr oet hwnn, a hynny y rwng y deu gorff wylldeu. A fob un o honunt yssyd hawlwr ar y gilyd, a hynny am dir a dayar. A ssegur y digaun pawn o honawch uot, eithyr gadu y ryngthunt wylldeu."
Ac ar hynny y deu urenhin a nessayssant y gyt am perued y ryt e ymgyuaruot. Ac ar y gossot kyntaf, y gwr a oed yn lle Arawn, a ossodes ar Hafgan ym perued bogel y daryan yny hyllt yn deu hanner, ac yny dyrr yr arueu oll, ac yny uyd Hafgan hyt y ureich a'e paladyr dros pedrein y uarch y'r llawr, ac angheuawl dyrnawt yndaw ynteu.
"A unben," heb yr Hafgan, "pa dylyet a oed iti ar uy angheu i? Nit yttoydwn i yn holi dim i ti. Ni wydwn achos it heuyt y'm llad i; ac yr Duw," heb ef, "canys dechreueist uy llad, gorffen."
"A unbenn," heb ynteu, "ef a eill uot yn ediuar gennyf gwneuthur a wneuthum itt. Keis a'th lado; ni ladaf i di."
"Vy ngwyrda kywir," heb yr Hafgan, "dygwch ui odyma: neut teruynedic angheu y mi. Nit oes ansawd y mi y'ch kynnal chwi bellach."
"Vy ngwyrda innheu," heb y gwr a oed yn lle Arawn, "kymerwch ych kyuarwyd, a gwybydwch pwy a dylyo bot yn wyr ymi."
"Arglwyd," heb y gwyrda, "pawb a'y dyly, canyt oes urenhin ar holl Annwuyn namyn ti."
"Ie," heb ynteu, "a del yn waredauc, iawn yw [y] gymryt. Ar ny del yn uuyd, kymmeller o nerth cledyueu."
Ac ar hynny, kymryt gwrogaeth y gwyr a dechreu guereskynn y wlat. Ac erbyn hanner dyd drannoeth, yd oed yn y uedyant y dwy dyrnas.
Ac ar hynny, ef a gerdwys parth a'y gynnadyl, ac a doeth y Lynn Cuch. A phan doeth yno, yd oed Arawn urenhin Annwuyn yn y erbyn. Llawen uu pob un wrth y gilid o honunt.
"Ie," heb yr Arawn, "Duw a dalo itt dy gydymdeithas; mi a'y kygleu."
"Ie," heb ynteu, "pan delych dy hun i'th wlat, ti a wely a wneuthum i yrot ti."
"A wnaethost," heb ef, "yrof i, Duw a'y talo itt."
Yna y rodes Arawn y furuf, a'y drych e hun y Pwyll, Pendeuic Dyuet, ac y kymerth ynteu y furuf e hun a'y drych. Ac y kerdaud Arawn racdaw parth a'y lys y Annwuyn, ac y bu digrif ganthaw ymwelet a'y eniuer ac a'y deulu, canis rywelsei ef wy ys blwydyn. Wynteu hagen ni wybuyssynt i eisseu ef, ac ni bu newydach ganthunt y dyuodyat no chynt.
Y dyd hwnnw a dreulwys trwy digrifwch a llywenyd, ac eisted ac ymdidan a'y wreic ac a'y wyrda. A phan uu amserach kymryt hun no chyuedach, y gyscu yd aethant. Y vely a gyrchwys, a'y vreic a aeth attaw. Kyntaf y gwnaeth ef ymdidan a'y wreic, ac ymyrru ar digriwwch serchawl a charyat arnei. A hynny ny ordifnassei hi ys blwydyn, a hynny a uedylywys hi.
"Oy a Duw," heb hi, "pa amgen uedwl yssyd yndaw ef heno noc ar a uu yr blwydyn y heno?"
A medylyaw a wnaeth yn hir. A guedy y medwl hwnnw, duhunaw a wnaeth ef, a farabyl a dywot ef wrthi hi, a'r eil, a'r trydyt; ac attep ny chauas ef genthi hi yn hynny.
"Pa achaws," heb ynteu, "na dywedy di wrthyf i?"
"Dywedaf wrthyt," heb hi, "na dywedeis ys blwydyn y gymmeint yn y kyfryw le a hwnn."
"Paham?" heb ef. "Ys glut a beth yd ymdidanyssam ni."
"Meuyl im," heb hi, "yr blwydyn y neithwyr o'r pan elem yn nyblyc yn dillat guely, na digrifwch, nac ymdidan, nac ymchwelut ohonot dy wyneb attaf i — yn chwaethach a uei uwy no hynny o'r bu y rom ni."
Ac yna y medylywys ef, "Oy a Arglwyd Duw," heb ef, "cadarn a ungwr y gydymdeithas, a diffleeis, a geueis i yn gedymdeith." Ac yna y dywot ef wrth y wreic:
"Arglwydes," heb ef, "na chapla di uiui. Y rof i a Duw," heb ynteu, "ni chyskeis inheu gyt a thi, yr blwydyn y neithwyr, ac ni orwedeis."
Ac yna menegi y holl gyfranc a wnaeth idi.
"I Duw y dygaf uy nghyffes," heb hitheu, "gauael gadarn a geueist ar gedymdeith yn herwyd ymlad a frouedigaeth y gorff, a chadw kywirdeb wrthyt titheu."
"Arglwydes," heb ef, "sef ar y medwl hwnnw yd oedwn inheu, tra deweis wrthyt ti."
"Diryued oed hynny," heb hitheu.
Ynteu Pwyll, Pendeuic Dyuet, a doeth y gyuoeth ac y wlat. A dechreu ymouyn a gwyrda y wlat, beth a uuassei y arglwydiaeth ef arnunt hwy y ulwydyn honno y wrth ryuuassei kynn no hynny.
"Arglwyd," heb wy, "ny bu gystal dy wybot; ny buost gyn hygaret guas ditheu; ny bu gyn hawsset gennyt titheu treulaw dy da; ny bu well dy dosparth eiroet no'r ulwydyn honn."
"Y rof i a Duw," heb ynteu, "ys iawn a beth iwch chwi, diolwch y'r gwr a uu y gyt a chwi, a llyna y gyfranc ual y bu" — a'e datkanu oll o Pwyll.
"Ie, Arglwyd," heb wy, "diolwch y Duw caffael o honot y gydymdeithas honno; a'r arglwydiaeth a gaussam ninheu y ulwydyn honno, nys attygy y gennym, ot gwnn."
"Nac attygaf, y rof i a Duw," heb ynteu Pwyll.
Ac o hynny allan, dechreu cadarnhau kedymdeithas y ryngthunt, ac anuon o pop un y gilid meirch a milgwn a hebogeu a fob gyfryw dlws, o'r a debygei bob un digrifhau medwl y gilid o honaw. Ac o achaws i drigiant ef y ulwydyn honno yn Annwuyn, a gwledychu o honaw yno mor lwydannus, a dwyn y dwy dyrnas yn un drwy y dewred ef a'y uilwraeth, y diffygywys y enw ef ar Pwyll, Pendeuic Dyuet, ac y gelwit Pwyll Penn Annwuyn o hynny allan.
A threigylgueith yd oed yn Arberth, priflys idaw, a gwled darparedic idaw, ac yniueroed mawr o wyr y gyt ac ef. A guedy y bwyta kyntaf, kyuodi y orymdeith a oruc Pwyll, a chyrchu penn gorssed a oed uch llaw y llys, a elwit Gorssed Arberth. "Arglwyd," heb un o'r llys, "kynnedyf yr orssed yw, pa dylyedauc bynnac a eistedo arnei, nat a odyno heb un o'r deupeth, a'y ymriw neu archolleu, neu ynteu a welei rywedawt." "Nyt oes arnaf i ouyn cael kymriw, neu archolleu, ym plith hynn o niuer. Ryuedawt hagen da oed gennyf pei ys guelwn. Mi a af," heb ynteu, "y'r orssed y eisted." Eisted a wnaeth ar yr orssed. Ac wal y bydynt yn eisted, wynt a welynt gwreic ar uarch canwelw mawr aruchel, a gwisc eureit, llathreit, o bali amdanei, yn dyuot ar hyt y prifford a gerdei heb law yr orssed. Kerdet araf, guastat oed gan y march ar uryt y neb a'y guelei, ac yn dyuot y ogyuuch a'r orssed. "A wyr, heb y Pwyll, "a oes ohonawchi, a adnappo y uarchoges?" "Nac oes, Arglwyd," heb wynt. "Aet un," heb ynteu, "yn y herbyn y wybot pwy yw." Un a gyuodes y uynyd, a phan doeth yn y'herbyn y'r ford, neut athoed hi heibaw. Y hymlit a wnaeth ual y gallei gyntaf o pedestric. A fei mwyaf uei y urys ef, pellaf uydei hitheu e wrthaw ef. A phan welas na thygyei idaw y hymlit, ymchwelut a oruc at Pwyll a dywedut wrthaw, "Arglwyd," heb ef, ni thykya y pedestric yn y byt e hymlit hi." "Ie," heb ynteu Pwyll," dos y'r llys, a chymer y march kyntaf a wypych, a dos ragot yn y hol." Y march a gymerth, ac racdaw yd aeth; y maestir guastat a gauas, ac ef a dangosses yr ysparduneu y'r march. A ffei uwyaf y lladei ef y march, pellaf uydei hitheu e wrthaw ef. Yr vn gerdet a dechreuyssei hitheu, yd oed arnaw. Y uarch ef a ballwys; a phan wybu ef ar y uarch pallu y bedestric, ymchwelut yn yd oed Pwyll a wnaeth. "Arglwyd," heb ef, "ny thykya y neb ymlit yr unbennes racco. Ny wydwn i varch gynt yn y kyuoyth no hwnnw, ac ni thygyei ymi y hymlit hi." "Ie," heb ynteu Pwyll, "y mae yno ryw ystyr hut. Awn parth a'r llys." Y'r llys y doethant, a threulau y dyd hwnnw a wnaethant.
A thrannoeth, kyuodi e uynyd a wnaethant, a threulaw hwnnw yny oed amser mynet y uwyta. A gwedy y bwyta kyntaf, "Ie," heb ynteu Pwyll," ni a awn yr yniuer y buam doe, y penn yr orssed. A thidy," heb ef, "wrth vn o'y uakwyueit, dwg gennyt y march kyntaf a wypych yn y mays." A hynny a wnaeth y makwyf. Yr orssed a gyrchyssant, a'r march ganthunt.
Ac val y bydynt yn eiste, wynt a welynt y wreic ar yr vn march, a'r vn wisc amdanei, yn dyuot yr un ford. "Llyma," heb y Pwyll, "y uarchoges doe. Bid parawt," heb ef, "was, e wybot pwy yw hi." "Arglwyd," heb ef, "mi a wnaf hynny yn llawen." Ar hynny, y uarchoges a doeth gywerbyn ac wynt. Sef a oruc y mukwyf yna, yskynnu ar y march, a chynn daruot idaw ymgueiraw yn y gyfrwy neu ry adoed hi heibaw, a chynnwll y rygthunt. Amgen urys gerdet nit oed genthi hi no'r dyd gynt. Ynteu a gymerth rygyng y gan y uarch, ac ef a dybygei yr araued y kerdei y uarch yr ymordiwedei a hi. A hynny ny thy gywys idaw. Ellwg y uarch a oruc wrth auwyneu ; nyt oed nes idi yna no chytl bei ar y gam; a phei wyaf y lladei ef y uarch, pellaf uydei hitheu e wrthaw ef: y cherdet hitheu nit oed uwy no chynt. Cany welas ef tygyaw idaw e hymlit ymchwelut a wnueth a dyuot yn yd oet Pwyll. "Arglwyd," heb ef, "nyt oess allu gan y march amgen noc a weleisti." "Mi a weleis," heb ynteu, " ny thykya y neb y herlit hi. Ac y rof i a Duw," heb ef, "yd oed neges idi wrth rei o'r maes hwnn pei gattei wrthpwythi idi y dywedut; a ni a awn parth a'r llys."
Y'r llys y doethant, a threulaw y nos honno a orugant drwy gerdeu a chyuedach, ual y bu llonyd ganthunt. A thrannoeth diuyrru y dyd a wnaethant yny oed amser mynet y wwyta. A phan daruu udunt y bwyd Pwyll a dywot, "Mae yr yniuer y buom ni doe ac echtoe ym penn yr orssed?" "Llymma, Arglwyd," heb wynt. "Awn," heb ef, "y'r orssed y eiste, a thitheu," heb ef, wrth was y uarch," kyfrwya uy march yn da, a dabre ac ef y'r ford, a dwc uy ysparduneu gennyt." Y gwas a wnaeth hynny.
Dyuot yr orssed a orugant y eisted. Ny buant hayach o enkyt yno, yny welynt y uarchoges yn dyuot yr vn ford, ac yn un ansawd, ac vn gerdet. "Ha was," heb y Pwyll, "mi a welaf y uarchoges. Moes uy march." Yskynnu a oruc Pwyll ar y uarch, ac nyt kynt yd yskynn ef ar y uarch, noc yd a hitheu hebdaw ef. Troi yn y hol a oruc ef, a gadel y uarch drythyll, llamsachus y gerdet. Ac ef a debygei, ar yr eil neit, neu ar y trydyd, y gordiwedei. Nyt oed nes hagen idi no chynt. Y uarch a gymhellaud o'r kerdet mwyaf a oed ganthaw. A guelet a wnaeth na thygyei idaw y hymlit.
Yna y dywot Pwyll. "A uorwyn," heb ef, " yr mwyn y gwr mwyhaf a gery, arho ui." "Arhoaf yn llawen," heb hi, "ac oed llessach y'r march, pei ass archut yr meityn." Sewyll, ac arhos a oruc y uorwyn, a gwaret y rann a dylyei uot am y hwyneb o wisc y phenn, ac attal y golwc arnaw, a dechreu ymdidan ac ef. "Arglwydes," heb ef, " pan doy di, a pha gerdet yssyd arnat ti?" "Kerdet wrth uy negesseu," heb hi, "a da yw gennyf dy welet ti." "Crassaw wrthyt y gennyf i," heb ef. Ac yna medylyaw a wnaeth, bot yn diuwyn ganthaw pryt a welsei o uorwyn eiroet, a gwreic, y wrth y ffryt hi. "Arglwydes," heb ef, "a dywedy di ymi dim o'th negesseu?" "Dywedaf, y rof a Duw," heb hi. "Pennaf neges uu ymi, keissaw dy welet ti." "Llyna," heb y Pwyll, " y neges oreu gennyf i dy dyuot ti idi. Ac a dywedy di ymi pwy wyt?" "Dywedaf, Arglwyd," heb hi. "Riannon, uerch Heueyd Hen, wyf i, a'm rodi y wr o'm hanwod yd ydys. Ac ny mynneis innheu un gwr, a hynny o'th garyat ti. Ac nys mynnaf etwa, onyt ti a'm gwrthyt. Ac e wybot dy attep di am hynny e deuthum i." "Rof i a Duw," heb ynteu Pwyll, "llyna uy attep i iti, pei caffwn dewis ar holl wraged a morynnyon y byt, y mae ti a dewisswn." "Ie," heb hitheu, "os hynny a uynny, kyn uy rodi y wr arall, gwna oed a mi." "Goreu yw gennyf i," heb y Pwyll, "bo kyntaf; ac yn y lle y mynnych ti, gwna yr oet." "Gwnaf, Arglwyd," heb hi, "blwydyn y heno, yn llys Heueyd, mi a baraf bot gwled darparedic yn barawt erbyn dy dyuot." "Yn llawen," heb ynteu, "a mi a uydaf yn yr oet hwnnw." "Arglwyd," heb hi, "tric yn iach, a choffa gywiraw dy edewit, ac e ymdeith yd af i.
A guahanu a wnaethont, a chyrchu a wnaeth ef parth a'e teulu a'e niuer. Pa ymouyn bynnac a uei ganthunt wy y wrth y uorwyn, y chwedleu ereill y trossei ynteu. Odyna treulaw y ulwydyn hyt yr amser a wnaethont; ac ymgueiraw [o Pwyll] ar y ganuet marchauc. Ef a aeth ryngtaw a llys Eueyd Hen, ac ef a doeth y'r llys, a llawen uuwyt wrthaw, a dygyuor a llewenyd ac arlwy mawr a oed yn y erbyn, a holl uaranned y llys wrth y gynghor ef y treulwyt. Kyweiryaw y neuad a wnaethpwyt, ac y'r bordeu yd aethant. Sef ual yd eistedyssont, Heueyd Hen ar neill law Pwyll, a Riannon o'r parth arall idaw; y am hynny pawb ual y bei y enryded. Bwyta a chyuedach ac ymdidan a wnaethont.
Ac ar dechreu kyuedach gwedy bwyt, wynt a welynt yn dyuot y mywn, guas gwineu, mawr, teyrneid, a guisc o bali amdanaw. A phan doeth y gynted y neuad, kyuarch guell a oruc y Pwyll a'y gedymdeithon. "Cressaw Duw wrthyt, eneit, a dos y eisted," heb y Pwyll. "Nac af," heb ef, "eirchat wyf, a'm neges a wnaf." "Gwna yn llawen," heb y Pwyll. "Arglwyd," heb ef, " wrthyt ti y mae uy neges i, ac y erchi it y dodwyf." "Pa arch bynnac a erchych di ymi, hyt y gallwyf y gaffael, itti y byd." "Och!" heb y Riannon, "paham y rody di attep yuelly?" "Neus rodes y uelly, Arglwydes, yg gwyd gwyrda," heb ef. "Eneit," heb y Pwyll, "beth yw dy arch di?" "Y wreic uwyaf a garaf yd wyt yn kyscu heno genthi. Ac y herchi hi a'r arlwy a'r darmerth yssyd ymma y dodwyf i." Kynhewi a oruc Pwyll, cany bu attep a rodassei.
"Taw, hyt y mynnych," heb y Riannon, "ny bu uuscrellach gwr ar y ssynnwyr e hun nog ry uuost ti." "Arglwydes," heb ef, " ny wydwn i pwy oed ef." "Llyna y gwr y mynyssit uy rodi i idaw o'm hanuod," heb hi, "Guawl uab Clut, gwr tormyn nawc, kyuoethawc. A chan derw yt dywedut y geir a dywedeist, dyro ui idaw rac anglot yt." "Arglwydes," heb ef, "ny wnn i pa ryw attep yw hwnnw. Ny allaf ui arnaf a dywedy di uyth." "Dyro di ui idaw ef, "heb hi," a mi a wnaf na chaffo ef uiui uyth." "Pa furyf uyd hynny?" heb y Pwyll. "Mi a rodaf i'th law got uechan," heb hi, "a chadw honno gennyt yn da. Ac ef a eirch y wled a'r arlwy a'r darmerth. Ac nit oes y'th uedyant di hynny. A mi ui a rodaf y wled y'r teulu a'r niueroed," heb hi, "a hwnnw uyd dy attep am hynny. Amdanaf innheu," heb hi, "mi a wnaf oet ac ef, ulwydyn y heno, y gyscu gennyf; ac ym penn y ulwydyn," heb hi, "byd ditheu a'r got honn genhyt, ar dy ganuet marchawc yn y perllan uchot. A phan uo ef ar perued y digrifwch a'y gyuedach dyret titheu dy hun ymywn a dillat reudus amdanat, a'r got y'th law," heb hi, "ac nac arch dim namyn lloneit y got o uwyt. Minheu," heb hi, "a baraf, bei dottit yssyd yn y seith cantref hynn o uwyt a llynn yndi, na bydei launach no chynt. A guedy byryer llawer yndi, ef a ouyn yt, "A uyd llawn dy got ti uyth?" Dywet titheu, "Na uyd, ony chyuyt dylyedauc tra chyuoethauc, a guascu a'y deudroet y bwyt yn y got, a dywedut, "Digawn rydodet ymman." A minheu a baraf idaw ef uynet y sseghi y bwyt yn y got. A phan el ef, tro ditheu y got, yny el ef dros y pen yn y got. Ac yna llad glwm ar garryeu y got. A bit corn canu da am dy uynwgyl, a phan uo ef yn rwymedic yn y got, dot titheu lef ar dy gorn, a bit hynny yn arwyd y rot a'th uarchogyon; pan glywhont llef dy gorn, diskynnent wynteu am ben y llys."
"Arglwyd," heb y Guawl," madws oed ymi cael attep am a ercheis." "Kymeint ac a ercheist," heb y Pwyll, "o'r a uo y'm medyant i, ti a'y keffy." "Eneit," heb hitheu Riannon, "am y wled a'r darpar yssyd yma, hwnnw a rodeis i y wyr Dyuet a" y'r teulu, a'r yniueroed yssyd ymma. Hwnnw nit eidawaf y rodi y neb. Blwydyn y heno ynteu, y byd gwled darparedic yn y llys honn i titheu, eneit, y gyscu gennyf innheu."
Gwawl a gerdawd ryngthaw a'y gyuoeth. Pwyll ynteu a doeth y Dyuet. A'r ulwydyn honno a dreulwys pawb o honunt hyt oet y wled a oed yn llys Eueyd Hen. Gwaul uab Clut a doeth parth a'r wled a oed darparedic idaw, a chyrchu y llys a wnaeth, a llawen uuwyt wrthaw. Pwyll ynteu Penn Annwn a doeth y'r berllan ar y ganuet marchauc, ual y gorchymynnassei Riannon idaw, a"r got ganthaw. Gwiscaw bratteu trwm ymdan[a]w a oruc Pwyll, a chymryt lloppaneu mawr am y draet. A phan wybu y bot ar dechreu kyuedach wedy bwyta, dyuot racdaw y'r neuad ; a guedy y dyuot y gynted y neuad kyuarch guell a wnaeth y Wawl uab Clut a'y gedymdeithon o wyr a gwraged. "Duw a ro da yt," heb y Gwawl," a chraessaw Duw wrthyt." "Arglwyd," heb ynteu, "Duw a dalo yt. Negessawl wyf wrthyt." "Craessaw wrth dy neges," heb ef. "Ac os arch gyuartal a erchy ymi, yn llawen ti a'e keffy." "Kyuartal, Arglwyd, " heb ynteu, " nyt archaf onyt rac eisseu. Sef arch a archaf, lloneit y got uechan a wely di o uwyt." "Arch didraha yw honno," heb ef, "a thi a'y keffy yn llawen. Dygwch uwyt idaw," heb ef. Riuedi mawr o sswydwyr a gyuodassant y uynyd, a dechreu llenwi y got. Ac yr a uyrit yndi ny bydei lawnach no chynt. "Eneit," heb y Guawl, "a uyd llawn dy got ti uyth?" "Na uyd, y rof a Duw," heb ef, "yr a dotter yndi uyth, ony chyuyt dylyedauc tir a dayar a chyuoeth, a ssenghi a'y deudroet y bwyt yn y got a dywedut, "Digawn ry dodet yma."" "A geimat," heb y Riannon, "kyuot y uynyd ar uyrr," wrth Gwawl vab Clut. "Kyuodaf yn llawen," heb ef. A chyuodi y uynyd, a dodi y deudroet yn y got, a troi o Pwyll y got yny uyd Guawl dros y penn yn y got ac yn gyflym caeu y got, a llad clwm ar y carryeu, a dodi llef ar y gorn. Ac ar hynny, llyma y teulu am penn y llys, ac yna kymryt pawb o'r niuer a doeth y gyt a Guawl, a'y dodi yn y carchar e hun. A bwrw y bratteu a'r loppaneu a'r yspeil didestyl y amdanaw a oruc Pwyll.
Ac mal y delei pob un o'e niuer ynteu y mywn, y trawei pob un dyrnawt ar y got, ac y gouynnei, "Beth yssyd ymma?" "Broch," medynt wynteu. Sef kyfryw chware a wneynt, taraw a wnai pob un dyrnawt ar y got, ae a'e droet ae a throssawl; ac yuelly guare a'r got a wnaethont. Pawb, ual y delei, a ouynnei, "Pa chware a wnewch chwi uelly?" "Guare broch yg got," medynt wynteu. Ac yna gyntaf y guarywyt broch yg got.
"Arglwyd," heb y gwr o'r got, "pei guarandawut uiui, nyt oed dihenyd arnaf uy llad y mywn got." "Arglwyd," heb Eueyd Hen, "guir a dyweit. Iawn yw yt y warandaw; nyt dihenyt arnaw hynny." "Ie," heb y Pwyll," mi a wnaf dy gynghor di amdanaw ef." "Llyna dy gynghor di," heb Riannon yna. Yd wyt yn y lle y perthyn arnat llonydu eircheit a cherdoryon. Gat yno ef y rodi drossot y pawb," heb hi, "a chymer gedernit y ganthaw na bo ammouyn na dial uyth amdanaw, a digawn yw hynny o gosp arnaw." "Ef a geif hynny yn llawen," heb y gwr o'r got. "A minheu a'e kymmeraf yn llawen," heb y Pwyll, "gan gynghor Heueyd a Riannon." "Kynghor yw hynny gynnym ni," heb wynt. "Y gymryt a wnaf," heb y Pwyll. "Keis ueicheu drossot." "Ni a uydwn drostaw," heb Heueyd, "yny uo ryd y wyr y uynet drostaw." Ac ar hynny y gollyngwyt ef o'r got ac y rydhawyt y oreugwyr. "Gouyn ueithon y Wawl weicheu," heb yr Heueyd. "Ni a adwa.enwn y neb a dylyer y kymryt y ganthaw." Riuaw y meicheu a wnaeth Heueyd. "Llunnya dy hunn," heb y Guawl, "dy ammot." "Digawn yw gennyf i," heb y Pwyll, "ual y llunnyawd Riannon." Y meicheu a aeth ar yr ammot hwnnw. "Ie, Arglwyd," heb y Guawl, "briwedic wyf i, a chymriw mawr a geueis, ac ennein yssyd reit ymi, ac y ymdeith yd af i, gan dy gannyat ti. A mi a adawaf wyrda drossof yma, y attep y pawb o'r a'th ouynno di." "Yn llawen," heb y Pwyll," "a gwna ditheu hynny." Guawl a aeth parth a'y gyuoeth.
Y neuad ynteu a gyweirwyt y Pwyll a'e niuer, ac yniuer y llys y am hynny. Ac y'r bordeu yd aethont y eisted, ac ual yd eistedyssant ulwydyn o'r nos honno, yd eistedwys paub y nos [honno]. Bwyta a chyuedach a wnaethont, ac amser a doeth y uynet y gyscu. Ac y'r ystauell yd aeth Pwyll a Riannon, a threulaw y nos honno drwy digriuwch a llonydwch.
A thrannoeth, yn ieuengtit y dyd, "Arglwyd," heb Riannon, "kyuot y uynyd, a dechreu lonydu y kerdoryon, ac na ommed neb hediw, o'r a uynno da." "Hynny a wnaf i, yn llawen," heb y Pwyll, "a hediw a pheunyd tra parhao y wled honn." Ef a gyuodes Pwyll y uynyd, a pheri dodi gostec, y erchi y holl eircheit a cherdoryon dangos, a menegi udunt y llonydit pawb o honunt wrth y uod a'y uympwy ; a hynny a wnaethpwyd. Y wled honno a dreulwyt, ac ny ommedwyt neb tra barhaud. A phan daruu y wled, "Arglwyd," heb y Pwyll wrth Heueyd," mi a gychwynnaf, gan dy gannyat, parth a Dyuet auore." "Ie," heb Heueyd, "Duw a rwydhao ragot; a gwna oet a chyfnot y del Riannon i'th ol." "Y rof i a Duw," heb ynteu Pwyll, "y gyt y kerdwn odymma." "Ay uelly y mynny di, Arglwyd?" heb yr Heueyd. "Uelly, y rof a Duw," heb y Pwyll.
Wynt a gerdassant trannoeth parth a Dyuet, a Llys Arberth a gyrchyssant, a gwled darparedic oed yno udunt. Dygyuor y wlat a'r kyuoeth a doeth attunt o'r gwyr goreu a'r gwraged goreu. Na gwr na gwreic o hynny nyt edewis Riannon, heb rodi rod enwauc idaw, ae o gae, ae o uodrwy, ae o uaen guerthuawr. Gwledychu y wlat a wnaethont yn llwydannus y ulwydyn honno, a'r eil. Ac yn [y] dryded ulwydyn, y dechreuis gwyr y wlat dala trymuryt yndunt, o welet gwr kymeint a gerynt a'e harglwyd ac eu brawduaeth, yn dietiued; a'e dyuynnu attunt a wnaethont. Sef lle y doethont y gyt, y Bresseleu yn Dyuet. "Arglwyd," heb wynt, "ni a wdom na bydy gyuoet ti a rei o wyr y wlat honn, ac yn ouyn ni yw, na byd it etiued o'r wreic yssyd gennyt. Ac wrth hynny, kymmer wreic arall y bo ettiued yt ohonei. Nyt byth," heb wynt, "y perhey di, a chyt kerych di uot yuelly, nys diodefwn y gennyt." "Ie," heb y Pwyll, "nyt hir ettwa yd ym y gyt, a llawer damwein a digawn bot. Oedwch a mi hynn hyt ym pen y ulwydyn; a blwydyn y'r amser hwnn, ni a wnawn yr oet y dyuot y gyt, ac wrth ych kynghor y bydaf." Yr oet a wnaethant. Kynn dyuot cwbyl o'r oet, mab a anet idaw ef, ac yn Arberth y ganet. A'r nos y ganet, y ducpwyt gwraged y wylat y mab a'y uam. Sef a wnaeth y gwraged kyscu, a mam y mab, Riannon. Sef riuedi o wraged a ducpwyt y'r ystauell hwech wraged. Gwylat a wnaethont wynteu dalym o'r nos, ac yn hynny eisswys, kyn hanner noss, kyscu a wnaeth pawb ohonunt, a thu a'r pylgeint deffroi. A phan deffroyssant, edrych a orugant y lle y dodyssynt y mab, ac nyt oed dim ohonaw yno. "Och!" heb vn o'r gwraged, "neur golles y mab." "Ie," heb arall, "bychan a dial oed yn lloski ni, neu yn dienydyaw am y mab." "A oes," heb un o'r guraged, "kynghor o'r byt am hynn?" "Oes," heb arall, "mi a wnn gynghor da," heb hi. "Beth yw hynny?" heb wy. "Gellast yssyd yma," heb hi, "a chanawon genti. Lladwn rei o'r canawon, ac irwn y hwyneb hitheu Riannon a'r gwaet, a'y dwylaw, a byrwn yr eskyrn gyr y bron, a thaerwn arnei e hun diuetha y mab. Ac ni byd yn taered ni an chwech wrthi hi e hun." Ac ar y kynghor hwnnw y trigwyt.
Parth a'r dyd Riannon a deffroes, ac a dywot, "A wraged," heb hi, "mae y mab?" "Arglwydes," heb wy, "na ouyn di yni y mab. Nyt oes ohonam ni namyn cleisseu a dyrnodeu yn ymdaraw a thi ; a diamheu yw gennym na welsam eiroet uilwraeth yn un wreic kymeint ac ynot ti. Ac ny thygyawd ynni ymdaraw a thi. Neur diffetheeist du hun dy uab, ac na hawl ef ynni." "A druein," heb y Riannon, "yr yr Arglwyd Duw a wyr pob peth, na yrrwch geu arnaf. Duw, a wyr pob peth, a wyr bot yn eu hynny arnaf i. Ac os ouyn yssyd arnawchi, ym kyffes y Duw, mi a'ch differaf." "Dioer," heb wy, "ny adwn ni drwc arnam ny hunein yr dyn yn y byt." "A druein," heb hitheu, "ny chewch un drwc yr dywedut y wirioned." Yr a dywettei hi yn dec ac yn druan, ny chaffei namyn yr un atteb gan y gwraged.
Pwyll Penn Annwn ar hynny a gyuodes, a'r teulu a'r yniueroed, a chelu y damwein hwnnw ny allwyt. Y'r wlat yd aeth y chwedyl, a phawb o'r guyrda a'e kigleu. A'r guyrda a doethant y gyt y wneuthur kynnadeu at Pwyll, y erchi idaw yscar a'e wreic, am gyflauan mor anwedus ac ar y wnaethoed. Sef attep a rodes Pwyll, "Nyt oed achaws ganthunt wy y erchi y mi yscar a'm gwreic namyn na bydei plant idi. Plant a wnn i y uot idi hi. Ac nyt yscaraf a hi. O gwnaeth hitheu gam, kymeret y phenyt amdanaw." Hitheu Riannon a dyuynnwys attei athrawon a doethon. A gwedy bot yn degach genthi kymryt y phenyt nog ymdaeru a'r gwraged, y phenyt a gymerth. Sef penyt a dodet erni, bot yn y llys honno yn Arberth hyt ym penn y seith mlyned. Ac yskynuaen a oed odieithyr y porth, eisted gyr llaw hwnnw beunyd, a dywedut y pawb a delei o'r a debygei nas gwyppei, y gyffranc oll, ac o'r a attei idi y dwyn, kynnic y westei a phellynic y dwyn ar y cheuyn y'r llys. A damwein y gadei yr un y dwyn. Ac yuelly treulaw talym o'r ulwydyn a wnaeth.
Ac yn yr amser hwnnw yd oed yn arglwyd ar Wynt Ys Coet, Teirnon Twryf Uliant, a'r gwr goreu yn y byt oed. Ac yn y ty yd oed cassec. Ac nyt oed yn y dyrnas, na march na chassec degach no hi; a phob nos Calanmei y moei, ac ny wybydei neb un geir e wrth y hebawl. Sef a wnaeth Teirnon, ymdidan nosweith a'y wreic, "Ha wreic," heb ef; "llibin yd ym pob blwydyn yn gadu heppil yn cassec, heb gaffel yr un o honunt." "Peth a ellir wrth hynny?" heb hi. "Dial Duw arnaf," heb ef, "nos Calanmei yw heno, ony wybydaf i pa dileith yssyd yn dwyn yr ebolyon." Peri dwyn y gassec y mywn ty a wnaeth, a gwiscaw arueu amdanaw a oruc ynteu, a dechreu gwylat y nos. Ac ual y byd dechreu noss, moi y gassec ar ebawl mawr telediw, ac yn seuyll yn y lle. Sef a wnaeth Teirnon, kyuodi ac edrych ar prafter yr ebawl, ac ual y byd yuelly, ef a glywei twrwf mawr, ac yn ol y twrwf, llyma grauanc uawr drwy fenestyr ar y ty, ac yn ymauael a'r ebawl geir y uwng. Sef a wnaeth ynteu Teirnon, tynnu cledyf, a tharaw y ureich o not yr elin e ymdeith, ac yny uyd hynny o'r ureich a'r ebawl ganthaw ef y mywn. Ac ar hynny twrwf, a diskyr a gigleu y gyt. Agori y drws a oruc ef a dwyn ruthyr yn ol y twrwf. Ny welei ef y twrwf rac tywyllet y nos. Ruthyr a duc yn y ol, a'y ymlit. A dyuot cof idaw adaw y drws y agoret, ac ymhwelut a wnaeth. Ac wrth y drws, llyma uab bychan yn y gorn, guedy troi llenn o bali yn y gylch. Kymryt y mab a wnaeth attaw, a llyma y mab yn gryf yn yr oet a oed arnaw.
Dodi cayat ar y drws a wnaeth, a chyrchu yr ystauell yd oed y wreic yndi. "Arglwydes," heb ef, ay kyscu yd wyt ti?" "Nac ef, Arglwyd," heb hi. "Mi a gyskeis, a phan doethost ti y mywn mi a deffroeis." "Mae ymma mab it," heb ef, " os mynny, yr hwnn ny bu yt eiroet." "Arglwyd," heb hi, "pa gyfranc uu hynny?" "Llyma oll," heb y Teirnon, a menegi y dadyl oll. "Ie, Arglwyd," heb hi, "pa ryw wisc yssyd am y mab?" "Llen o bali," heb ynteu. "Mab y dynnyon mwyn yw," heb hi. "Arglwyd," heb hi, "digrifwch a didanwch oed gennyf i, bei mynnut ti, mi a dygwn wraged yn un a mi, ac a dywedwn uy mot y ueichawc." "Myui a duunaf a thi yn llawen," heb ef, "am hynny." Ac yuelly y gwnaethpwyt. Peri a wnaethont bedydyaw y mab, o'r bedyd a wneit yna. Sef enw a dodet arnaw, Gwri Wallt Euryn. Yr hynn a oed ar y ben o wallt, kyuelynet oed a'r eur.
Meithryn y mab a wnaethpwyt yn y llys yny oed ulwyd. A chynn y ulwyd yd oed yn kerdet yn gryf, a breiscach oed no mab teir blwyd, a uei uawr y dwf a'e ueint. A'r eil ulwydyn y magwyt y mab, a chyn ureisket oed a mab chweblwyd. A chynn penn y pedwyryd ulwydyn, yd oed yn ymoprau a gueisson y meirch, am y adu o'e dwyn y'r dwuyr. "Arglwyd," heb y wreic wrth Teirnon, "mae yr ebawl a differeist ti y noss y keueist y mab?" "Mi a'e gorchymynneis y weisson y meirych," heb ef, "ac a ercheis synnyaw wrthaw," "Ponyt oed da iti, Arglwyd," heb hi, "peri y hywedu, a'y rodi y'r mab? Kanys y noss y keueist y mab y ganet yr ebawl ac y differeist." "Nyt af i yn erbyn hynny," heb y Teirnon. "Mi a adaf y ti y rodi idaw." "Arglwyd," heb hi, "Duw a dalo yt, mi a'e rodaf idaw." Y rodet y march y'r mab, ac y deuth hi at y guastrodyon, ac at weisson y meirch, y orchymyn synyeit wrth y march, a'e uot yn hywed erbyn pan elei y mab y uarchogaeth, a chwedyl wrthaw.
Emysc hynny, wynt a glywssont chwedlydyaeth y wrth Riannon, ac am y phoen. Sef a wnaeth Teirnon Twryf Uliant, o achaws y douot a gawssei, ymwarandaw am y chwedyl, ac amouyn yn lut ymdanaw yny gigleu gan lawer o luossogrwyd, o'r a delei y'r llys, mynychu cwynaw truanet damwein Riannon, a'y phoen. Sef a wnaeth Teirnon ynteu, medylyaw am hynny, ac edrych ar y mab yn graf. A chael yn y uedwl, yn herwyd gueledigaeth, na rywelsei eiroet mab a that kyn debycket a'r mab y Pwyll Penn Annwn. Ansawd Pwyll hyspys oed gantaw ef, canys gwr uuassei idaw kynn no hynny. Ac yn ol hynny, goueileint a dellis yndaw, o gamhet idaw attal y mab ganthaw, ac ef yn gwybot y uot yn uab y wr arall. A phan gauas gyntaf o yscaualwch ar y wreic, ef a uenegis, idi hi, nat oed iawn udunt wy attal y mab ganthunt, a gadu poen kymmeint ac a oed, ar wreicda kystal a Riannon o'r achaws hwnnw, a'r mab yn uab y Pwyll Penn Annwn.
A hitheu wreic Teirnon a gytsynnywys ar anuon y mab y Pwyll. "A thripheth, Arglwyd," heb hi, "a gaffwn o hynny, diolwch ac elwissen o ellwg Riannon o'r poen y mae yndaw, a diollwch gan Pwyll am ueithryn y mab, a'e eturyt idaw. A'r trydyd peth, os gwr mwyn uyd y mab, mab maeth ynni uyd, a goreu a allo uyth a wna inni." Ac ar y kynghor hwnnw y trigyssant. Ac ny bu hwy ganthunt no thrannoeth, ymgueiraw a oruc Teirnon ar y drydyd marchawc, a'r mab yn petwyryd y gyt ac wynt ar y march a rodyssei Teirnon idaw. A cherdet parth ac Arberth a wnaethont. Ny bu hir y buont yny doethont y Arberth. Pan doethant parth a'r llys, wynt a welynt Riannon yn eisted yn emmyl yr yskynuaen. Pan doethont yn ogyuuch a hi, "A unbenn," heb hi, "nac ewch bellach hynny. Mi a dygaf pob un o honawch hyt y llys. A hynny yw uym penyt am lad o honaf uu hun uy mab, a'e diuetha." "A wreicda," heb y Teirnon, "ny thebygaf i y un o hyn uynet ar dy geuyn di." "Aet a'y mynho," heb y mab, "nyt af i." "Dioer, eneit," heb Teirnon, "nyt awn ninheu." Y llys a gyrchyssant. A diruawr llywenyd a uu yn y herbyn. Ac yn dechreu treulaw y wled yd oedit yn y llys. Ynteu Pwyll a oed yn dyuot o gylchaw Dyuet. Y'r yneuad yd aethont, ac y ymolchi. A llawen uu Pwyll wrth Teirnon, ac y eisted yd aethont. Sef ual yd eistedyssont, Teirnon y rwg Pwyll a Riannon, a deu gedymdeith Teirnon uch llaw Pwyll a'r mab y ryngthunt. Guedy daruot bwyta, ar dechreu kyuedach, ymdidan a wnaethon. Sef ymdidan a uu gan Teirnon, menegi y holl gyfranc am y gassec ac am y mab, a megys y buassei y mab ar y hardelw wy, Teirnon a'e wreic, ac y megyssynt. "Ac wely dy yna dy uab, Arglwydes," heb y Teirnon. "A phwy bynnac a dywot geu arnat, cam a wnaeth. A minheu pann gigleu y gouut a oed arnat, trwm uu gennyf, a doluryaw a wneuthum. Ac ny thebygaf o'r yniuer hwnn oll, nit adnappo not y mab yn uab y Pwyll," heb y Teirnon. "Nyt oes neb," heb y pawb, "ny bo diheu gantaw hynny." "Y rof i a Duw," heb y Riannon, oed escor uym pryder im, pei gwir hynny." "Arglwydes," heb y Pendaran Dyuet, "da yd enweist dy uab, Pryderi. A goreu y gueda arnaw Pryderi uab Pwyll Penn Annwn. " "Edrychwch," heb y Riannon, "na bo goreu y gueda arnaw y enw e hun." "Mae yr enu?" heb y Pendaran Dyuet. "Gwri Wallt Euryn a dodyssom ni arnaw ef." "Pryderi," heb Pendaran Dyuet, "uyd y enw ef." "Yawnahaf, yw hynny," heb y Pwyll, "kymryt enw y mab y wrth y geir a dywot y uam, pann gauas llawen chwedyl y wrthaw." Ac ar hynny y trigwyt.
"Teirnon," heb y Pwyll, "Duw a dalo yt ueithryn y mab hwn hyt yr awr hon. A iawn yw idaw ynteu, o'r byd gwr mwyn, y dalu ytti." "Arglwyd," heb y Teirnon, "y wreic a'e magwys ef, nyt oes yn y byt dyn uwy y galar no hi yn y ol. Iawn yw idaw coffau ymi, ac y'r wreic honno, a wnaethom yrdaw ef." "Y rof i a Duw," heb y Pwyll, "tra parhawyf i, mi a'th kynhalyaf, a thi a'th kyuoeth, tra allwyf kynnhal y meu uy hun. Os ynteu a uyd, iawnach yw idaw dy gynnhal nogyt y mi. Ac os kynghor gennyt ti hynny, a chan hynn o wyrda, canys megeist ti ef hyt yr awr.hon, ni a'e rodwn ar uaeth at Pendaran Dyuet o hynn allan. A bydwch gedymdeithon chwitheu a thatmaetheu idaw." "Kynghor iawn," heb y pawb, "yw hwnnw." Ac yna y rodet y mab y Pendaran Dyuet, ac yd ymyrrwys gwyrda y wlat y gyt ac ef. Ac y kychwynnwys Teirnon Toryfliant a'y gedymdeithon y ryngtaw a'y wlat ac a'e gyuoeth, gan garyat a llywenyd. Ac nyt aeth heb gynnhic ydaw y tlysseu teccaf a'r meirych goreu a'r cwn hoffaf. Ac ny mynnwys ef dim.
Yna y trigyssant wynteu ar eu kyuoeth, ac y magwyt Pryderi uab Pwyll Pen Annwn yn amgeledus, ual yd oed dylyet, yny oed delediwhaf gwass, a theccaf, a chwpplaf o pob camp da, o'r a oed yn y dyrnas. Uelly y treulyssant blwydyn a blwydyned, yny doeth teruyn ar hoedyl Pwyll Penn Annwn, ac y bu uarw. Ac y gwledychwys ynteu Pryderi seith cantref Dyuet, yn llwydannus garedic gan y gyuoeth, a chan pawb yn y gylch. Ac yn ol hynny y kynydwys trychantref Ystrat Tywi a phedwar cantref Keredigyawn. Ac y gelwir y rei hynny, seith cantref Seissyllwch. Ac ar y kynnyd hwnnw y bu ef, Pryderi uab Pwyll Penn Annwn, yny doeth yn y uryt wreika. Sef gwreic a uynnawd, Kicua, uerch Wynn Gohoyw, uab Gloyw Walltlydan, uab Cassnar Wledic o dyledogyon yr ynys hon.
Ac yuelly y teruyna y geing hon yma o'r Mabynnogyon.
Here is the first part of the story translated by William Owen Pughe, published in the third volume of T. Crofton Croker's Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland in 1825.
Pwyll, prince of Dyved, was lord of the seven provinces of Dyved. Once upon a time he was at Arberth, a principal court belonging to him, and he formed the resolution to go out hunting, and the part of his territory where he intended to hunt was the glen of Cuch.
So he set out the same evening from Arberth, and proceeded as far as the head of the grove of Dyarwya, where he remained that night. The next morning, in the infancy of the day, he arose and went to the glen of Cuch, to turn out the dogs below the wood. He blew his horn, and entered fully upon the chase, following after the dogs, and separating himself from his companions.
As Pwyll listened to the cry of the hounds, he heard the note of another pack different from that of his own, and that note coming in an opposite direction. And he perceived a dusky glade in the wood, forming a level plain; and as his pack was entering the skirt of the glade, he saw a stag before the other pack; and towards the middle of the glade, beheld the hounds that were pursuing the stag overtake him, and throw him down; and then remarking the colour of the dogs, without thinking of noticing the stag, he deemed that of all the greyhounds he had seen in the world, he had not seen dogs of similar colour with them; for their colour was a clear shining white, and their ears were red, and as the dogs glittered with such whiteness, so glittered the redness of their ears.
Thereupon Pwyll came to the spot, and driving the pack that had killed the stag away, he drew his own pack on the stag. And while he was thus engaged in drawing on his dogs, he saw a knight coming after the other pack, upon a large dapple gray horse, having a bugle horn hanging round his neck, and clad in a hunting dress of dark grayish cloth.
The knight then approached Pwyll; and said thus to him: "O chief! I know not who thou art, and will not therefore bid thee a welcome."
"What, then," said Pwyll, "thou art, perhaps, of too high a rank to entitle me to that honour?"
"Truly," answered the other, "it is not any worthiness of my honour that deters me from the civility."
"Then, chief," replied Pwyll, "what other cause?"
"Heaven bear me witness," quoth the knight, "thy own ignorance, and thy want of courtesy."
"What discourtesy, chief, hast thou perceived in me?"
"I have never experienced greater incivility from any man," said the knight, "than driving away my dogs that had killed the stag, and setting thy own pack upon him. That," added he, "was an insult; and though I may not avenge myself as to thee, I vow to heaven, I will cause thee disgrace, for which a hundred stags will not make amends."
" O chief!" said Pwyll, "if I have done thee an injury, I will purchase thy friendship."
"In what manner wilt thou purchase it?" inquired the other. "According as thy dignity," answered Pwyll; "but I know not who thou art."
"I am a king," rejoined the other, "wearing a crown in the country whence I come."
"Sir," said Pwyll, " I greet thee with a good day: and what country then dost thou come from?"
"From Annwn," answered the other; "I am Arawn, king of Annwn."
" Sir," said Pwyll, "by what means may I obtain thy friendship?"
"This is the manner thou shalt obtain it," was the answer: "there is a person whose dominion borders upon mine, and who makes war upon me continually; he is called Havcan [literally, summershine], also a king of Annwn: by freeing me from his attacks, which thou canst easily do, thou shalt obtain my friendship," &c.
Notes:
1. Pwyll, means impulse, and in a secondary sense, it is reason, intellect, or wit. The original, and a translation of this Mabinogi, is given in the Cambrian Register for 1705, vol. i. p. 177, continued in vol. ii. for the following year, p. 322, from the Red Book of Jesus College, Oxford, a MS. of the fourteenth century, and it is completed in vol. iii. for 1818, p. 230.
2. Dyved— Dimetia, as before explained.
3. Arberth is at present a hundred in the south-east of Pembrokeshire, where there is a small town near the ruins of an old castle bearing the same name, the meaning of which is, "above the thicket." The English call it Narberth, from blending a part of the preposition yn with the original name.
4. The small river Cuch, through most of its course, divides the counties of Pembroke and Caermarthen, and falls into the Teivi a little above Cardigan. The name is descriptive of its dark bed beneath frowning rocks.
5. There is in the river Cuch a romantic waterfall, near which we must look for the grove of Dyarwya, or the roaring torrent.
6. Arawn may signify eloquence: in the Cambrian Register it is translated "the silvered tongued."
7. The mythological region of Annwn deserves particular explanation. This term, in its most strict application, relates to the bardic theology; wherein it denotes, agreeably to its literal import, a privation of knowledge, being the contrast to Gwynvyd, or the intellectual world, by which the name happiness was defined. Annwn was the lowest point of animation, or the extreme of evil, in the circle of Abred, or metempsychosis, out of which the lapsed soul was imagined to re-ascend through all intermediate modes of existence, until it attained the human state, wherein ultimately it accumulated intelligence for enabling it to choose, and so to attach itself to good or to evil, as a free agent. If good preponderated in the choice, the soul escaped by death to a higher circle of being, wherein the memory was restored, so as to recognise the incidents and economy of every state of inferior life passed through; and though the soul progressively accumulated knowledge in the circle of felicity, and it merged into the intellectual circle of infinitude, to experience varied modes of existence eternally in approaching to the Deity; and as no finite being could, consistently with happiness, endure eternity without changing, this was a necessary condition. But if man was attached to evil, by death the soul again fell into a lower state of being, corresponding with its turpitude in the circle of necessity and evil; and again it transmigrated to the state of humanity. Thus the reprobate proceeded, so as ultimately to become attached to the good; and this state of good preponderating, it would consequently become universal among men, and then would this world end. So taught "the bards of the isle of Britain."
Annwn, in its more lax acceptation, as in the Mabinogion, is the unknown world, the invisible state, and fairy land. There is another Welsh term, very similar in sound, but differing in strict literal sense, yet not greatly so, as sometimes used. This term is Andwvn, the abyss, or bottomless pit, Tartarus. Thus the sun, on approaching to the winter solstice, is made to say:
"I gocel awel gauav
I gwlad andwvn dwvn yd av."
"To shun the winter gale, to the region of the abyss profound I go." — Dav. ab Gwilym, 1350.
It should be remarked, that after his return from Annwn, the cognomen of Pwyll Pentevig Dyved is changed to Pwyll pen Annwn, or Pwyll, the head of the world unknown.
Mr. Davies, in his "Celtic Researches," p. 175, considers Annwn to imply "figuratively the condition of the dead, or the infernal regions, which comprehends the Elysium and the Tartarus of antiquity." And in support of this opinion, he quotes the proverb, "Nid eir i annwn ond unwalth:" there will be but one journey to hell; and likewise the common expressions, Cwn Annwn, hell-hounds; Plant Annwn, children of the deep, certain wandering spirits. The Irish are said to have anciently called their country by the name Annun or Annan.
8. The fall into the lowest point of existence was termed cwymp i had, which literally is a lapse into seed; that is, into the seed of life, whence it again increased. This lower state was the hell of the bardic doctrine. Had has the exact sound of the Greek Hades, divested of its termination; and the Welsh term Hel, is increment or accumulation, and Hela is to accumulate, to gather, also to hunt. This term is descriptive of the progress from the Had, or seed, in the circle of evil, or the Bardic hell, and it has precisely the same £ound as the English word Hell. These are curious coincidences.
Translation by Charlotte Guest:
Pwyll Prince of Dyved was lord of the seven Cantrevs of Dyved; 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 Narbeth 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."
"O 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 [Hades]," 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 t-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."
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.
"O 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 uphold 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, "O 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 headdress 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 I will go hence."
So they parted, and he 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.
And the hall was garnished and they went to meat, and thus did they sit; Heveydd 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 he, "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 full. 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 H£n. 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 Annwvyn, 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 therein.'"
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 Pwyll 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 today that may claim thy bounty."
"Thus shall it be gladly," said Pwyll, "both today 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 tomorrow."
"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."
"Wiliest 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.
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 uhe 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 any one 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. But 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 Teirnyon 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 Teirnyon 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 earnest 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 Pywll was come back from the confines of Dyved. And they went into the hall and washed, and Pwyll rejoiced to see Teimyon. 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 Teimyon’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 not his 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 will 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 Wallt Lydan, the son of Prince Casnar, one of the nobles of this Island.
And thus ends this portion of the Mabinogion.
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