Chapter II: Part 2

Then Kynon implored him to make trial of him, and at length the man agreed. "Sleep here to-night," said he, "and on the morning arise early, and take the road upward through the valley till you come to the wood by which you came. A little way within the wood you will find a path branching off to the right. Follow this until you come to a large, sheltered glade, with a mound in the centre. On the top of the mound you will see a black man of great size, larger than two men of this world. He has but one foot, and one eye in the middle of his forehead. In his hand he holds a club which no two men could lift. He is exceedingly ill-favoured to look at, and he is the warden of that wood. And round about him you will see grazing a thousand wild animals. Inquire of him the way out of the glade, and he will point out the road which will lead you to that of which you are in quest."

Next morning Kynon arose very early, and rode away. All came to pass as the Man in Yellow had said, except that the black man was of huger size and his club looked far heavier than Kynon had been led to suppose. When Kynon saw the thousand animals browsing around the mound and the black man sitting on the top of it, he asked what power he held over those creatures.

"I will show thee, little man," said he; and, taking up his club, he struck one of the stags a great blow. The stag brayed loudly, and at the sound all the animals came together, as many as the stars in the sky, so that Kynon scarcely found room to stand. Serpents were there, and dragons, and every kind of beast. Then the black man looked at them, and bade them go feed; and they all bowed their heads, and did homage to him ere they departed.

Then Kynon asked the way out of the glade; and when the man knew his reason he said to him: "Take the path that leads towards the head of the glade, and ascend the woody steeps until you reach the summit; there you will find an open space like a large valley, and in the midst of it a tall tree, with branches greener than the greenest pine-trees.

"Beneath this tree is a fountain, and by the fountain a marble slab, and on the slab a silver bowl attached by a silver chain. Take the bowl, and throw a bowlful of water on the slab, and you shall see what will happen. And if you do not find trouble in that adventure you need not seek it during the rest of your life."

So Kynon did as he had said, and found the fountain, and threw a bowlful of water upon the slab. And immediately there came a mighty peal of thunder, so that the earth shook. With the thunder came a shower of hailstones, so heavy that each one pierced to the bone, and Kynon could only endure it by placing his shield over his own and his horse's head. After that the weather became fair; but when he looked at the tree, behold! there was not a single leaf left upon it. Then a flock of birds came, and alighted on the tree, and never was heard such sweet strains as those they sang; and while he was listening to the birds a murmuring voice rose through the valley, like a gust of wind, which said:

"O knight, what has brought you hither? What evil have I done to you that you should act towards me and my possessions as you have this day? Do you not know that the shower to-day has left alive neither beast nor man that was exposed to it?"

Scarcely had the voice died away when there appeared a knight clad in black velvet, riding a coal-black horse, who made a rush at Kynon then and there. And the onset was so furious, and Kynon so little prepared, that he was overthrown. Then the Black Knight passed the shaft of his lance through the bridle-rein of Kynon's horse, and, without a glance at his fallen adversary, rode off the way he had come. There was nothing left for the fallen knight but to make his way back to the castle. The black man jeered aloud at him as he passed through the glade, and, with much anger and mortification, the knight hurried on to the castle of the Man in Yellow. There he was received with the utmost hospitality; and no one alluded to his adventure, nor did he mention it to any. On the next day he found, ready saddled, a dark bay horse, with nostrils as red as scarlet, and, mounted on this, he returned to Arthur's Court.

II. The Tale of Owain

When Kynon had related at Arthur's Court the story of his adventure with the Black Knight, one of his companions, Owain by name, said: "Is it not befitting that one of us go and discover this place?"

"It is very well to talk about it," said Sir Kai, "but 'tis harder to carry it out."

Then Owain went away, and prepared his horse and his armour, and very early next morning he rode away in the direction which Kynon had pointed out to him.

In due time he reached the castle, and was kindly received by the Man in Yellow, and set down before a very excellent meal. And the four and twenty maidens seemed even lovelier to Owain than they had to Kynon.

When they asked him his errand Owain replied that he was in quest of the knight who guards the fountain; and the Yellow Man, though very reluctantly, pointed out the way. All happened to Owain as it had to Kynon, save that the shower seemed more violent and the song of the birds even sweeter than before. And as they sang the Black Knight appeared, and rode violently upon Owain; but he was prepared to receive him, and they fought fiercely together. Their lances broke with the shock of their attack, and, drawing their swords, they fought until Owain struck the knight a blow which pierced through helmet, skull, and brain.

Then the Black Knight, knowing he had received a mortal blow, turned his horse, and fled. But Owain pursued hard after him until they came to a lordly castle. When they reached the gate the Black Knight was allowed to enter; but Owain was so close behind that, when the portcullis fell, it struck his horse behind the saddle, and cut him in two, carrying away the rowels of the spurs which were on Owain's heels. So the rowels and part of the horse were outside and Owain was shut up inside with the other part of the horse between the two gates, for the inner one was closed. As the knight stood wondering what would happen next he saw through an opening in the upper part of the gate a street facing him, with a row of houses on either side; and from one of these houses came out a maiden, with yellow, curling locks, dressed in yellow satin, with shoes of parti-coloured leather. She approached the gate, and desired him to open it. "Truly, lady," said Owain ruefully, "I can no more open it for you than you can for me."

"That is very sad," said the damsel; "yet it is the part of every woman to do what she can to succour you, for you are a loyal squire of dames, so I will do whatever is in my power for you. Take this ring, and put it on your finger, with the stone inside your hand, and close your hand upon the stone. As long as you conceal it, it will conceal you. Presently, when they have consulted together, they will come to fetch you, in order to put you to death, and will be much upset when they cannot find you. But I shall sit on the horse-block yonder, and you will see me though I cannot see you. Come, therefore, and put your hand upon my shoulder, that I may know you are near; and whichever way I go, do you follow me."

So Owain vanished from the sight of men, and sorely grieved were his foes when they came to seek him and found only part of his horse. But he found the maiden, and laid his hand upon her shoulder; and she led him to a splendid chamber, where even the nails were painted in beautiful colours, and there she gave him abundance of food in silver dishes, and left him to rest. Now, on that night the nobleman who owned the castle, whom Owain had so grievously wounded, died; and the maiden of the golden locks presently brought Owain to a window from whence he might see the funeral procession. And foremost among the mourners walked the Countess of that domain. She was so very beautiful that Owain fell deeply in love with her, and said to the maiden: "Verily, there goes the woman I love best in the world."

"Truly," said the maiden, "she too shall love you not a little, and I will go woo for thee."

So the maiden, whose name was Luned, went to the chamber of her mistress the Countess, and found her weeping, because now the Black Knight was slain, there was no one to defend her dominions. For so it was that, so long as the fountain was safe, all was well, but if that were not defended, all her lands would soon be lost.

Then Luned said: "Surely you know that no one can defend the fountain except he be a knight of Arthur's household. Let me go to Arthur's Court, and I will bring back with me a warrior who can guard the fountain as well as, or even better than, he who kept it formerly."

"That will be a hard task," said the Countess. "Go, however, and make good that which thou hast promised."

But Luned did not go to Arthur's Court; she went instead to the chamber of Owain, and, having warned him to wait until it was due time, hid herself as long as it would have taken to travel to the Court.

Then she brought Owain a coat and mantle of yellow satin, on which were bands of broad gold lace; and for his feet shoes of softest leather, fastened by golden clasps in the shape of lions; and thus they proceeded to the chamber of the Countess.

But when they arrived the Countess looked steadfastly upon Owain, and said: "Luned, this knight has not the appearance of a traveller."

"Well, lady, he is none the worse for that," said Luned.

"I am certain," said the Countess, "that this is the man who killed my master, the Black Knight."

"So much the better for you, lady," replied Luned, "for if he had not been stronger than your master, he could not have killed him. There is no use in crying over spilt milk."

Then the Countess looked again on Owain, and when she saw he was a very goodly knight, and courageous withal, she began to return his affection for her; and soon afterwards they were married. So Owain defended the fountain with lance and sword; and whenever a knight came there, he overthrew him, and ransomed him for his full worth, and what he then obtained he divided among his barons and his knights, so that he became very much beloved. And so three years passed away.

III. The further Adventures of Owain

When three long years had gone by, King Arthur began to get very sad because he heard nothing of his good knight Owain. And when the others saw his sadness they suggested that he and the men of his household should go and seek Owain. So they set off; and Kynon was their guide. They spent the night at the castle of the Man in Yellow, and he and his twenty-four damsels waited upon them with the utmost hospitality. In the morning they set off for the wood, and, passing the black man, they came to the fountain. Then Sir Kai begged that he might throw the water on the slab and receive the adventure that first befell. All happened as before, save that several of the attendants were killed by the hail-storm; and as they stood listening to the song of the birds, a knight clad in black satin, riding on a coal-black horse, spurred up to Sir Kai, and in a few minutes Sir Kai was overthrown.

Then the knight rode off, and the host of Arthur encamped as darkness drew on.

The next day Sir Kai met the Black Knight again, and this time was wounded very sorely. Then each of the knights in turn fought, and all were overthrown save one, and he was called Gwalchmai. The fight between him and the Black Knight was very fierce, but at length a heavy blow broke the helmet of Gwalchmai, and showed his face. And, behold, the Black Knight threw down his sword, and embraced him, saying: "Little did I know that you were my cousin Gwalchmai." Then did Gwalchmai know the voice of Owain, and embraced him, and brought him to Arthur, and everyone was glad to see the long-lost knight again.

So all the company proceeded to the castle of the Countess of the Fountain, and there partook of a great banquet, which had been three years preparing; for Owain had always said that Arthur would come to seek him. And when all was over Arthur prepared to depart, but first he sent a message to the Countess, begging her to permit Owain to go and visit him for the space of three months. So Owain departed, though much against the will of his Countess; and when he was once more among his kindred and friends he forgot all about his wife and the People in Yellow, and stayed away three years instead of three months. At the end of these three years, as Owain sat one day at meat in the royal city of Caerleon-on-Usk, there rode through the doorway of the hall a damsel on a bay horse covered with foam, wearing a bridle and saddle of gold; and the damsel was clad in a robe of yellow satin. She came up to Owain, and, taking the ring from off his hand, "Thus," she said, "shall be treated the deceiver, the traitor, the faithless and the disgraced."

Then she turned her horse's head, and rode away.

Then was Owain deeply ashamed and sorrowful; and on the next day he left the Court, and wandered to the distant parts of the country and to waste places and barren mountains. And he stayed there until his clothes were worn out and his body wasted away and his hair grown long. His only companions were the wild beasts with whom he fed, and they grew to love him as their friend; but after a time he became so weak that he could no longer abide with them, so he descended from the mountains into the fairest park in all the world, which was said to belong to a widowed countess.

One day the Countess and her maidens were walking by a lake that was in the middle of the park, when they saw in the pathway the prostrate figure of a man. At first they thought he was dead; but they went near, and touched him, and found there was life in him, though he was very much exhausted. So the Countess returned to the castle, and sent one of her maidens with a flask full of precious balsam to the sick man, together with a horse and a good suit of clothes, and said:

"Go with these, and place them near the man we saw just now. Anoint him with the balsam near his heart, and if there is still life in him he will arise through the strength of the balsam. Then watch what he will do."

The maiden departed, and forthwith poured the whole of the balsam on Owain, and left the horse and the garments close by, and hid herself, and watched what would happen. Presently he began to move his hands, then his arms, and then all at once he rose up, and was ashamed to see how ragged and dirty he looked. Then he perceived the horse, and the garments; so he washed in the lake, and crept to the horse, and with difficulty clothed himself, and clambered on to the saddle. Then came the maiden from her hiding-place, and he was rejoiced to see her, and asked her to whom the park belonged.

"Truly," said she, "a widowed countess owns park and castle, which are all that are left to her of two noble earldoms left to her by her late husband. All the rest has been taken from her by a neighbouring earl because she refused to become his wife."

"That is a pity," said Owain. And the maiden conducted him to the castle, and brought him to a pleasant room, and left him there. Then she went to the Countess, and gave her back the flask. "Ha! damsel," said her mistress, "where is all the balsam?" "Have I not used it all?" said she. "O maiden," said the Countess, "thou hast wasted for me seven-score pounds' worth of ointment on an unknown stranger. However, now that he is here, wait thou upon him until he is quite recovered."

So the maiden tended Owain, and gave him meat and drink and medicine until he was well again. And in three months he was as comely a knight as ever he had been before. One day he heard a great tumult in the castle, and asked the maiden the cause thereof. She told him that the earl whom she had mentioned before had come against the Countess with a large army to force her to marry him. "Has she a horse and arms to spare?" asked Owain. "She has the best in the world," said she.

"Then go and beg the loan of them," said Owain, "that I may go and have a look at this earl." "I will," said the maiden. So she made her request to the Countess; but the lady laughed a bitter laugh, and said: "He may as well have them to-day as my enemy to-morrow; but I know not what he would do with them."

Then they brought out a beautiful black horse, with a beechen saddle, and a suit of armour for man and horse; and Owain armed himself, and rode forth, attended by two pages. When they came in sight of the enemy they could not see where the army ended, it was so great; but Owain asked where the earl himself was, and when he was pointed out, he sent the pages back to the castle, and rode forward till he met the earl. And Owain was now so strong that he drew the earl completely out of the saddle, and turned his horse's head towards the castle, and, although it was no easy task, brought the earl to the gate. When they had entered, he gave the earl as a gift to the Countess, and said to her: "Lo, here is a return to you for your wondrous balsam."

Then the earl restored to the Countess her two earldoms in ransom for his life, and for his freedom he gave her half his own domains and all his jewels and gold and silver.

After this Owain departed from the castle, though all honoured him greatly and begged him to stay with them. But he was still ashamed and sorrowful at heart, and preferred rather to ride forth into desert places again.

One day, as he was journeying through a wood, he heard a great uproar, and, riding forward, found a great craggy mound, on the side of which was a grey rock. In the rock was a cleft, and in the cleft a serpent; and near by stood a black lion, and every time the lion moved to go hence the serpent darted towards him to attack him.

Then Owain unsheathed his sword, and struck the serpent, and cut him in two, and went on his way. But, strange to say, the lion followed him, and played about him like a dog. All that day they travelled together; and at night Owain dismounted, and turned his horse loose in a woody meadow. And he kindled a fire, the lion bringing him wood enough to last for three nights. Then the lion disappeared, and after a while returned bearing a fine, large roebuck, which he laid before Owain; and when it was skinned and roasted, it made an excellent supper for them both. As he was eating, he heard a deep sigh near him, which was repeated three times.

"Who is there?" asked Owain. "A mortal maiden," was the reply. "Who art thou?" he asked again. And the voice replied: "I am Luned, the handmaiden of the Countess of the Fountain. In this stone vault am I imprisoned on account of the knight who came from Arthur's Court and married my Countess. For a short time only he stayed with her, and then went away, and has never returned--and he was the friend I loved most in the world. And one day two of the pages of the Countess's chamber reviled him, and called him ill names, and I told them that they two were not a match for him alone. Then they imprisoned me in this stone cell, and said I should be put to death unless he came himself to deliver me by a certain day--and that is the day after to-morrow. But I have no one to send to seek him for me. And his name is Owain, the son of Urien."

Then Owain said: "Art thou certain that if the knight knew all this, he would come to your rescue?"

"I am most certain of it," said she.

So Owain bade her hope for the best, and meantime bade her tell him if there were any place near, where he could get lodging for the night. She bade him follow the river, so he rode along till he came to a very fine castle. The Earl who ruled over the place received him very hospitably, and good fodder was given to his horse. But the lion went and lay down in the horse's manger, so that none of the men of the castle dared to approach him. Meantime Owain had been brought in to supper; and very soon the lion came, and sat between his knees, and shared his food. Then Owain noticed that everyone in the castle was very sorrowful. The Earl sat on one side of him, and his fair young daughter on the other; and he never saw anyone look as sad as they.

In the middle of supper the Earl began to bid Owain welcome, adding: "Heaven knows it is not thy coming which makes us sorrowful, but we have good cause for care."

"How is that?" asked Owain.

"I have two sons," replied the Earl, "who went yesterday to hunt upon the mountains. But on the mountains lives an evil monster who kills men and devours them, and he has seized my sons; and to-morrow he will bring them here, and will devour them before my eyes, unless I will deliver my sweet daughter into his hands. He has the form of a man, but the strength of a giant, and no one can do aught against him."

"Truly this is a hard case," said Owain. "And what wilt thou do?"

"Heaven knows," said the Earl. "But I can never give up my young daughter to be destroyed by him; yet I cannot bear to lose my two brave sons."

So no more was said, and Owain stayed there that night.

Next morning a great noise was heard as the giant entered the courtyard, dragging behind him the two youths by the hair of their heads. Then Owain put on his armour, and went out to fight the giant, and the lion followed him. The giant made a great rush upon the knight; and the lion fought on Owain's side, more fiercely than his master. At length the giant said: "I could easily settle this business with you were it not for the animal that is with you." So Owain shut the lion up inside the castle walls, and went back to fight the giant as before. But the lion heard that it was going ill with Owain; and he roared very loud, and climbed up till he reached the top of the castle, and then sprang down from the walls, and joined his master. And very soon he gave the giant such a stroke with his paw that the monster fell down dead.

Then the Earl was full of gratitude, and begged Owain to remain with him; but he would only stay one more night, and on the morrow set out for the meadow where Luned was imprisoned in the mound. When he reached the spot, he found a great fire kindled, and two youths with curling auburn hair were leading the maiden forth to cast her in the fire.

"Why are you treating her thus?" asked Owain.

They told him of the compact that was between them concerning the maiden. "Owain has failed her," said they, "therefore she must be burnt according to our agreement."

"Well," said Owain, "I know him for a good knight, and if he had known of the maiden's peril he would have come to her rescue; but if you will accept me in his stead I will do battle for her."

This was agreed; and the fight began. But the two were together stronger than Owain, and he was hard beset. Then the lion came to his help, and they two were stronger than the young men. So they said to him: "Chieftain, we did not agree to fight with thy lion, but only with thee." Then Owain shut the lion up in the stone vault where the maiden had been imprisoned, and blocked up the entrance with stones, and returned to the fight. But he was weak from loss of blood, and the young men pressed hard upon him; and the lion roared like thunder when he heard that his master was in trouble, and he burst through the wall, and rushed upon the young men, and slew them both.

So Luned was saved, and glad was she when she found it was Owain indeed who had come to her rescue. Together they sought the dominions of the Countess of the Fountain; and she and Owain and the lion and Luned lived all happily together for the rest of their lives.

_From the "Mabinogion."_

The Story of King Lud

King Lud was King of Britain, and a very mighty warrior. He built for himself a fine castle, and lived in it most part of the year. It was called Caer Lud, and afterwards Caer London, but after the stranger race came to Britain it was just called London. Lud had a brother, Llevelys, whom he loved very dearly; and he married a princess of France, and became king of that land, and ruled it well and happily. Now, after some years three dismal plagues fell upon the island of Britain, such as no other land had ever known. The first was the plague of the Coranians. These Coranians were a certain people who knew every word that was said upon the island, however low it might be spoken, if only the wind met it. And because of this they could not be injured, for they knew all their enemies' plans beforehand.

The second plague was a terrible shriek that came on every May-eve over each hearth in the island of Britain. And the shriek pierced through the hearts of all, so that men lost their valour and strength, and women and children and young men and maidens their senses, and all the animals and trees and earth and waters were left barren.

The third plague was that whatever store of food and provisions might be laid up in the King's court, even if so much as a whole year's supply of meat and drink, none of it could ever be found except what was consumed in the first night.

Then King Lud was very sad at heart, because he knew not how to free his land from the dismal plagues. He called together all the nobles of his kingdom, and asked counsel as to what he should do in the midst of these afflictions. And they all advised him to go to France and seek the advice of Llevelys his brother, king of that land. So they made ready a fleet in secrecy and silence, lest the Coranian race should learn the cause of their journey; and Lud, with some of his chosen followers, set his face towards France. When Llevelys saw his brother's ship approaching, he went out to meet him, and embraced him with much joy. Then King Lud told him the purpose of his errand; and King Llevelys thought a while, and, being very wise, soon discovered the cause of those dismal plagues. But they dared not talk freely about them to each other, lest the wind should catch their words, and the Coranians have knowledge of their discourse. So Llevelys caused a long horn to be made of brass, and through this horn they discoursed. But whatever words they spoke into the horn one to the other neither of them could hear anything but harsh and unfriendly words.

Then Llevelys saw that there was a demon in the horn thwarting all their purposes, and caused wine to be put in to wash it out; and through the virtue of the wine the demon was driven away.

When this was done, Llevelys told his brother through the horn that he would give him some insects, which he must take and bruise in water. And when he returned to his kingdom he must call together all the people, both of his own race and the Coranians, as though with the idea of making peace between them. And when they were all together he must take the charmed water made with the bruised insects, and cast it over all alike. And the water would poison the race of the Coranians, but it would not harm those of his own people.

"The second plague," he said--"that of the weird shriek--is caused by a dragon. Another dragon of a foreign race is fighting with it, and striving to overcome it, and for this reason does your dragon make a fearful outcry once every year. This must you do to rid yourself of this plague: cause the island to be measured in its length and breadth, and in the place where you find the exact central point, cause a pit to be dug; and in the pit you must place a cauldron full of the best mead that can be made, with a covering of satin over the face of the cauldron. Then remain there watching, and presently you will see the dragons fighting a terrific fight. Presently they will take the form of dragons of the air; and lastly, when they are worn out with the fury of their fighting, they will fall upon the covering of the cauldron in the form of two pigs, and they will sink in, and the covering with them, till they reach the bottom of the cauldron; and they will drink up all the mead, and after that they will go to sleep. Then you must immediately fold the covering around them, and shut them up in the strongest vessel in your dominions, and hide them deep in the earth. And so long as they shall bide in that strong vessel no plague shall come from elsewhere upon the island of Britain.

"The third plague," continued Llevelys, "is caused by a mighty magician, who takes your meat and drink and stores of provisions. Through his illusions and charms he causes everyone to sleep. Therefore must you watch your food yourself. And, lest he should overcome you with sleep, have a cauldron of ice-cold water by your side, and if you begin to get drowsy, plunge into the cauldron."

Then Lud thanked his brother for his good counsel, and returned to his own land. And first he summoned a meeting of all the people, both of his own race and that of the Coranians; and he bruised the insects in water, and cast it over the heads of all of them. Immediately it destroyed all the race of the Coranians, but his own people were hurt not at all.

And this was the end of the first dismal plague.

Then he caused the land to be measured in its length and its breadth; and he found the central point in Oxford, and in that place he caused the pit to be dug and the cauldron of mead to be placed, with a covering of satin over the face of it. There he presently beheld the dragons fighting; and when they were weary, they fell into the mead under the shape of pigs, and when they had drunk up all the mead, they slept. And Lud folded the covering round them, and hid them in the strongest place he had on Snowdon. And so the fierce shriek ceased to be heard in his dominions; and this was the end of the second dismal plague.

When this was all ended, King Lud caused a very great banquet to be prepared in the Court. And when it was ready, he placed a cauldron of ice-cold water by his side, and sat down to watch over the banquet. And about the third watch of the night he heard sweet music and gentle songs, which lulled him to sleep. But when he found himself getting very drowsy, he went often into the ice-cold water. At length a man of great size, clad in strong, heavy armour, came in, bearing a hamper; and into this hamper he began to put all the food and provisions of meat and drink, and proceeded to go forth with it. And King Lud was so stupefied with astonishment that one hamper could possibly hold so much, that he had almost let him go. At last, however, he recovered his senses, and rushed after him, and cried: "Stay, stay. Though thou hast done me many insults and stolen much spoil ere now, yet shalt thou do so no more, unless thy skill in arms be better than mine." The magician instantly put down the hamper, and rushed upon him; and they fought so desperately that fire flew from their arms. At length the victory was to Lud, and he threw the plague to the earth. Then the magician besought him for his life, and promised to serve him as his vassal, and put all his power in the hands of the King, if he would release him; and to this King Lud agreed.

And this was the end of the third dismal plague. From that time forth King Lud reigned in peace and happiness in the island of Britain.

_From the "Mabinogion."_

The Tale of Taliesin

Tegid Voel and Caridwen his wife lived on an island in the midst of Lake Tegid. (Nowadays the lake is called Bala, and there is no island to be seen.) They had an elder son, a fair and comely youth, and a very beautiful daughter; but their youngest son was uglier than anyone in the whole world. This troubled his mother Caridwen at first; but she said to herself: "If he cannot be handsome, he shall, at anyrate, be very learned." Now, Caridwen was a witch, so she set to work to boil a Cauldron of Knowledge, of which the boiling must not cease for a year and a day. At the end of that time it would yield three drops of precious liquid, which would make whoever drank it wise for the rest of his life. She set Gwion Bach, who was passing by, to stir the cauldron, and a blind man named Morda to keep up the fire underneath; but, fearing that Gwion Bach had seen what she put into the cauldron, and would tell her secrets to others, she made up her mind to kill him directly he had done his work for her.

Now, one day, as the end of the year drew nigh, while Caridwen was in the fields gathering herbs, it chanced that the three magic drops flew out of the cauldron, and fell on the finger of Gwion Bach. They scalded his hand so that he promptly put it to his mouth, and sucked his fingers; and immediately he became very wise, and knew all that Caridwen meant to do to him, and his need of guarding against her wily plots! He fled from the house, therefore, and ran towards his own land; and the cauldron, left unstirred, burst in two, and the poisonous liquid ran out of the door, and into a stream where the horses of Gwyddno were drinking; and when they had drunk of the poisoned water they all died.

When Caridwen returned, and saw the year's work was lost, she took up a billet of wood, and began to beat the blind man Morda. But he answered: "You do wrong to beat me; the loss was not because of me."

"You speak truly," said Caridwen. "It was Gwion Bach who robbed me." And she set to running after him as fast as she could. He soon looked back, and saw her, and changed himself into a hare; for the magic liquid had given him many different kinds of skill. But as he fled, she changed herself into a greyhound, and had nearly caught him up when he ran towards a river and changed himself into a fish. Then she became an otter, and chased him till in his weariness he took the form of a bird. But she at once changed herself into a hawk, and gave him no rest in the sky.

Just as he was in fear of death, he saw a heap of grains of wheat on the floor of a barn; so he dropped among them, and became one of the grains. Then Caridwen changed herself into a high-crested black hen, and scratched among the grains till she found him. She was just about to swallow him, when, with his last remaining effort of skill, he became a very beautiful little child, and when she looked at him she had not the heart to kill him on the spot. So she took her own form again, and, having put the child into a leathern bag, she cast him into the sea just below the weir of Gwyddno, which is not far from Aberystwith, on the 29th of April. Then Caridwen returned home again, and thought no more of the matter.

Now, it had been the custom on every May-day eve to go fishing in that weir, and every year fish were taken to the value of a hundred pounds. Its owner, Gwyddno, had an only son named Elphin, the most unlucky of youths, who was always needing and never getting. This year his father, pitying his ill fortune, granted to him all the weir should contain on May-day, in order to give him something wherewith to begin the world. So the nets were set to catch the fish below the weir, and next day Elphin hurried to see how many they had caught. But the nets were quite empty, and nothing was to be found but a leathern bag which had caught in one of the poles of the weir. Then said one of his companions: "Men were unfortunate before, but never so much as now, when your luck has turned away the fish from a weir that has been worth a hundred pounds every May-eve till now, when there is nothing but a skin in it."

"Perhaps," said Elphin, "the bag may have something in it which is worth a hundred pounds." So his friend hooked up the bag, and opened it, and there peeped out the bright face of a little lad. "See, what a bright face within the bag!" cried his companion. And Elphin said: "Let him be called Taliesin, then" (which means "bright or shining face"), and lifted the child gently on to his horse, and made it walk softly, and went homeward with a very heavy heart.

But as he rode along, the boy behind him sang to him a song of consolation so sweetly that Elphin was much amazed, and asked how he had learnt so beautiful a song. The child replied that, though he was very little, he was notwithstanding very wise.

Then Elphin asked if he were a mortal child or a spirit; upon which the boy sang another song, telling what he had been, and how he had fled from Caridwen, and how he came to be entangled in the weir.

When Elphin reached the house of his father, the latter asked him if his haul were good.

"Father," he answered, "I have caught a poet-minstrel."

"Alas! what good will that do thee?" said Gwyddno.

And Taliesin answered for himself: "He will do him more good than the weir ever did for thee."

Then Gwyddno looked at him, and said: "Art thou able to speak when thou art so little?" And the child replied: "I am better able to speak than thou to question." "What canst thou say?" asked Gwyddno. Upon which Taliesin sang a song of such wondrous beauty, that everyone hastened to the spot to hear the marvellous child.

Soon afterwards Elphin, with his usual ill luck, managed to offend the powerful King Maelgwn, who cast him into a dungeon barred by thirteen locked doors. But when father Gwyddno was lamenting his son's ill fate, the child Taliesin bade him be of good cheer, since he was going to rescue him. Setting off at daybreak he reached the King's palace at the time of the evening meal, and entered the hall just as the bards were beginning to sing the praises of the King, as was their custom every evening. Then Taliesin cast a spell upon these bards, so that instead of singing they could only pout out their lips and make mouths at the King. He forced them also, by his magic power, to tap their fingers on their mouths, as they tried in vain to sing, making a curious sound like "Bler-m! Bler-m!"

The King, naturally, thought they were treating him with great disrespect, and ordered one of his squires to give a blow to the chief bard; and the squire took a broom, and struck him on the head, so that he fell back on his seat. This rough treatment seemed to bring him to his senses, and he then explained that they could not help themselves, but had been put under a spell by a spirit, who was sitting in a corner of the hall under the form of a child. So the King ordered the squire to fetch the child; and Taliesin, nothing loth, was brought up to the head of the table. Being asked who he was and whence he came, he at once proceeded to sing another wonderful song, in which he informed them that he was the chief bard of Elphin, that his native country was the land of Cherubim, but that at present he was dwelling upon this earth, and might even stay here until the Judgment Day.

The King and his nobles marvelled greatly, for they had never heard the like from a boy so young as he. But as he was the bard of Elphin, who had offended His Majesty, the King determined that his own bards should get the better of him in song. So he ordered the chief bard to stand forth, and then all the four and twenty of them, to strive with Taliesin. But when they came forward to do his bidding they could do no other than play "Bler-m! Bler-m!" on their lips.

Then the King, angry and disappointed, asked the boy Taliesin his errand.

And the child replied in song: "I am come to deliver Elphin, who is imprisoned in this castle, behind thirteen locks."

"I will never let him go," said the King.

Then Taliesin foretold that there should come up from the sea-marshes a wonderful golden worm, which would take revenge upon the King for his cruelty; but, finding his threat had no effect, he turned, and left the hall. Outside the castle he sang a charm to the wind, bidding it blow open the prison of Elphin; and while he thus sang, near the door, there suddenly uprose such a storm of wind that the King and his nobles crouched in terror, expecting that the castle would fall upon their heads. Directly he realised that this was the work of the mysterious child-bard he sent for Elphin from the prison, and implored Taliesin to stay the wind-storm, which he accordingly did. So Elphin was brought into the hall, loaded with chains; at sight of which Taliesin sang another charm song, and the chains immediately fell off his hands and feet. By this time the King was so full of admiration for the skill and wisdom of the boy that he begged him to take the spell off his own bards, and to test them with questions.

So Taliesin set them free from his charm, and then began to rain questions upon them.

"Why is a stone hard?"

"Why is a thorn sharp-pointed?"

"What is as salt as brine?"

"Who rides the gale?"

"Why is a wheel round?"

"Why is the speech of the tongue different from any other gift?"

These were some of the questions he put, and ended with: "If you and your bards are able, let them give an answer to me, Taliesin."

But none of them could answer a single word.

Then the King dismissed them all with scorn; but still he would not let Elphin go free away.

Then Taliesin bade Elphin wager the King that he had a horse both better and swifter than the King's horses. The King accepted the challenge, and fixed day and time and place for the wager to be tried, and promised him his freedom if he should win the race. The King went thither with all his people and four and twenty of the swiftest horses he possessed. The course was marked out and the horses placed for running. Then came Taliesin with four and twenty twigs of holly, which he had burnt black, and he bade the youth who was to ride his master's horse to place them in his belt. Then he ordered him to let all the King's horses get before him, and, as he should overtake one horse after another, to strike the horse with a holly twig over the crupper, and then let that twig fall, and then to take another twig, and do the same to every one of the horses as he should overtake them.

Moreover, he bade the horseman to watch carefully where his own horse should stumble, and to throw down his cap on the spot. All this was done, and, behold! each horse that was struck with the holly twig began to lag behind, and the horse of Elphin easily won the race. When all was over, Taliesin brought his master to the spot where his horse had stumbled, and ordered workmen to dig a hole there; and when they had dug deep enough they found a cauldron full of gold. Then said Taliesin: "Elphin, take thou this as a reward for having taken me out of the weir and reared me from that time until now."

So Elphin went home a rich man to his father, and the work of Taliesin was accomplished.

_From the Welsh Romance of Taliesin. Thirteenth century._

Olger the Dane

I. How Olger became Champion of France

Long ago, in the days when Denmark and England were almost like one country, the palace of the King of the Danes was dark and gloomy, and the sound of weeping and wailing rose within its walls; for the fair young queen, whom all the people loved, had died in giving birth to a son. When she was dead, they took the babe from her arms, and, having called him Olger, they carried him away to the royal nursery, and laid him on a quilted bed of down, and left him there alone. But ere long a sound of rustling was heard in the silent room, and there assembled round the bed six beautiful fairies, who smiled and kissed their hands to him; and the babe smiled back in return.

Then the Fairy Glorian took the child in her arms, and kissed him, and said: "My gift to you is that you shall be the strongest and bravest knight of all your time."

"And mine," said the Fairy Palestine, "is that you shall always have battles to fight."

"No man shall ever conquer you," promised the Fairy Pharamond.

"You shall ever be sweet and gentle," said Meliora.

And Pristina added: "You shall be dear to all women, and happy in your love."

Then Morgan le Fay, who was queen of all the fairies, took the boy in her arms, and pressed his head to her bosom, saying: "Sweet little one, there are few gifts for me to give you; but this shall be mine: You shall never die; and after you have lived a life of glory here you shall be mine, and shall dwell with me for ever in Avalon, the land of Faery." Then she kissed him many times, and laid him back upon the bed; and with soft rustling of wings the fays departed.

Ten years passed away, and Olger had grown a brave, strong boy, and comely to look upon.

At that time it befell that the Emperor Charles the Great sent a message to Godfrey, King of Denmark, and father of young Olger, to bid him come and do homage for his lands; to which King Godfrey, being a stout and stalwart man, made bold answer: "Tell Charles I hold my lands of God and of my good sword; and if he doubt it, let him come and see. Homage to him I will not do." So Charles the Great came up against him with a mighty army, and after long fighting King Godfrey was defeated, and forced to promise to appear before the Emperor every Easter to do allegiance. And, fearing lest he would not keep his word, the Emperor demanded that young Olger should be given to him as a hostage. To this King Godfrey agreed; and the boy was carried off to the Emperor's Court, and there instructed in all the arts and learning of the time, and so grew up an accomplished and handsome youth.

For three years King Godfrey appeared each Easter to do allegiance; but in the meantime he had married again. And when another son was born to him, his new wife persuaded him to cease to humble himself before the Emperor, for she hoped that by this means Olger would be put to death, and her own son would inherit the kingdom. So on the fourth Easter the King of Denmark appeared not at the Court; and so they took young Olger, and threw him into the prison of the Castle of St Omer, until messengers should find out why King Godfrey had broken his pledged word.

Now, the keeper of the castle was very good to the young man, who also found much favour in the eyes of his wife, and those of Bellisande, his daughter, who loved him from the first moment he appeared.

Instead of a gloomy dungeon Olger was placed in a rich apartment, hung with beautiful tapestry, and Bellisande herself was proud to wait upon him.

Meantime the messengers of Charles had met with a shameful reception at the hands of Godfrey, King of Denmark. Their ears and noses were slit, their heads shaven, and they were driven from the kingdom. Full of shame and wrath they appeared at the Court of their master, and cried loudly for revenge against Godfrey, and against his son Olger, since he stood as hostage for him. The Emperor at once gave orders that the lad should be put to death; but the keeper of the castle implored the Emperor not to insist upon instant execution, but at least to grant that the young knight should be brought before the Court and told why he must suffer death. To this the Emperor agreed; and as he sat at a great feast among his nobles there entered Olger, and kneeled meekly at his feet. When Charles saw how fair a youth he was, and how gently he humbled himself for his father's pride, he was moved with pity and compassion. Many of the nobles, too, were in favour of the lad, and would have begged the Emperor to save his life; but the rage of the messengers was so great that they would have torn him to pieces, had not Duke Naymes of Bayiere kept them back.