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 10 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 15 years old. And before the end of the fourth 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 20 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 25 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 30 'may Heaven reward thee; I will give it 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, 35 broken in by the time that the boy could 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. 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 per5 formed 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 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, 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 ride him. And while these things were going forward, they heard tidings of Rhiannon and her punishment. And Teirnyon Twryv Vliant, Then he shut the door, and went into the chamber where his wife was. 'Lady,' said 40 by reason of the pity that he felt on hearing he, 'art thou sleeping?' 'No, lord,' said she, 'I was asleep, but as thou camest in I did awake.' 'Behold, here is a boy for thee if thou wilt,' said he, 'since thou hast never 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 had one.' 'My lord,' said she, 'what adven- 45 the sad history, ponder within himself, and ture is this?' 'It was thus,' said Teirnyon; 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 Dyved. 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 5 when I heard of thy sorrow, I was troubled 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 Dyved. And Teirnyon's wife agreed with him, that they should send the boy to Pwyll. 'And three 10 son Pryderi, and well becomes him the 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 name of Pryderi son of Pwyll Chief of Dyved.' 'Look you,' said Rhiannon, 'will not his own name become him better?' 'What name has he?' asked Pendaran unto him; and thirdly, if the boy is of gentle 15 Dyved. 'Gwri Wallt Euryn is the name 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 20 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 25 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 30 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 35 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 Pwyll was come back from the confines of Dyved. And 40 they went into the hall and washed, and Pwyll rejoiced to see Teirnyon. 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 45 between them. And after meat they began to carouse and to discourse. And Teirnyon'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 50 own. And behold here is thy son, lady,' said Teirnyon. 'And whosoever told that lie concerning thee, has done wrong. And 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 Ternyon 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 Dyved, was brought up care changed within her, and she was seized with love for him, for his beauty and his courtesy. Then the queen turned her back, and In Brittany of old time there reigned a king who held all the land in his sway, and 15 called a maiden, and said: 'Go thou to the was lord of many noble barons - his name One day the king went forth to hunt and knight who sitteth within playing chess, Guingamor, the king's nephew, and bid him to come to me straightway.' So the maiden went her way to the knight, and bare him her lady's greeting, and her prayer that he come forthwith and speak with her; and Guingamor let his game be, and went with the maiden. The queen greeted him courteously, and bade him sit beside her; but little did he think wherefore she made such fair semblance to him. The queen spake first: 'Guingamor, thou art very valiant, brave and courteous and winning - a fair adventure awaits theethou canst set thy love in high places! Thou hast a fair and courteous friend, I know neither dame nor damsel in the kingdom her equal! She loveth thee dearly, and thou At prime Guingamor arose and went forth to the castle to seek solace. The seneschal 35 canst have her for thy love.' met him and threw his arm around his neck, and they spake together awhile, and then sat them down to play at chess. And as they sat there the queen came even to the door of the chamber, on her way to the chapel. She 40 was tall and fair and graceful; and there she stood awhile to gaze on the knight whom she saw playing chess, and stayed her still and moved not. The knight answered: 'Lady, I know not how I can dearly love one whom I have never seen nor known; never have I heard speak of this aforetime, nor have I besought love from any.' Very fair did he seem to her in form and 45 face and feature; he sat over against a window, and a ray of sunlight fell upon his face and illumined it with a fair colour. And the queen looked upon him till her thoughts were And the queen spake: 'Friend, be not so shamefaced; me canst thou very well love, for of a sooth I am not to be refused; I love thee well and will love thee all my days.' Then Guingamor was much abashed and answered discreetly: 'Well do I know, lady, that I ought to love thee; thou art wife to my lord the king, and I am bound to honour thee as my liege lady.' * Translation by Jessie L. Weston, David Nutt, 1904. By permission of Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Company. But the queen answered: 'I say not that thou shalt love me thus, but I would love thee as my lover, and be thy lady. Thou art fair, and I am gracious; if it be thy will to love me very joyful shall we both be,' and she drew him towards her and kissed him. Guingamor understood well what she said, and what love she desired of him, and thereof had he great shame, and blushed rosy-red, and sprang up thinking to go forth 10 who may return therefrom, so adventurous is from the chamber. The queen would fain keep him with her, and laid hold on his mantle, so that the clasp broke and he came forth without it. the land, and so perilous the river. Much mischief have I already suffered; ten knights, the best of the land, have I lost; they set forth to seek the boar and came never Then Guingamor went back to the chess- 15 again.' board, and seated himself, much troubled at heart; so startled had he been that he had no thought for his mantle, but turned to his game without it. Then he said no more, but the company departed from each other, the knights went to their hostel to slumber and the king betook himself to his couch. The queen was much terrified when she 20 thought of the king, for when Guingamor had so spoken, and showed her his mind she feared lest he should accuse her to his uncle. Then she called a maiden whom she trusted much, and gave her the mantle, and bade 25 me, nor in any wise to refuse the gift.' her bare it to the knight; and she laid it around his shoulders, but so troubled in mind was he that he knew not when she brought it to him; and the maiden returned to the queen. Guingamor did not forget the word which he had heard, but went his way to the king's chamber and knelt before him. 'Sire,' he said, 'I ask of thee somewhat whereof I have great need, and which I pray thee to grant 30 So were the two in great fear till vespertide, when the king returned from the chase and sat him down to meat. They had had good sport that day, and he and his comrades were very joyful. After meat they laughed 35 and made sport, and told their adventures, each spake of his deeds, who had missed, who had hit fair. Guingamor had not been with them, whereof he was sorrowful. So he held his peace, and spake no word. The king said: "Fair nephew, I grant thee what thou prayest from me, ask securely, for in naught would I deny thy will.' The knight thanked him, and said: "This is that which I demanded, and the gift which thou hast given me. I go to hunt in the forest.' Then he prayed him to lend him his horse, his bloodhound, his brachet,' and his pack of hounds. When the king heard what his nephew said, and knew the gift he had given, he was very sorrowful and knew not what to do. Fain would he have taken back his word and 40 bade him let the matter be, for such a gift should he not have asked; never would he suffer him, even for his weight in gold, to go chase the white boar, for never might he return. And if he lent him his good brachet But the queen watched him, and thinking to make him wrathful, she devised words of which each one should weigh heavily. She turned herself to the knights and spake: 'Much do I hear ye boast, and tell of your 45 and his steed then would he lose them both adventures, yet of all whom I see here is none brave enough (were one to give him a thousand pounds of gold) to dare hunt or wind horn in the forest here without, where the white boar wanders. Marvellous praise 50 would he win who should take that boar!' Then all the knights held their peace, and never see them again, and naught had he that he valued so highly; there was nothing on earth he would have taken for them 'an I lose them I shall grieve all the days of my life.' - And Guingamor answered the king: 'Sire, by the faith I owe thee, for naught that thou 1 a kind of female hound could'st give me, were it the wide world, would I do other than I have said and chase the boar to-morrow. If thou wilt not lend me thy steed, and the brachet thou dost hold dear, thy hound and thine other dogs, then must I e'en take my own, such as they are.' others. Guingamor rode on winding his horn, and the pack ran yelping on the boar's track; return to his lair he might not, but plunged into the forest, and the knight fol5 lowed after, carrying the brachet which he had borrowed from the king. They who had borne him company, the With that came the queen who had heard king and his fellowship and the men of the what Guingamor desired (and know ye that city, stayed without the wood, nor would go it pleased her well), and she prayed the king 10 further. There they abode so long as they that he would do as the knight required, for might hear the blast of the horn and the barking of the dogs, and then they commended the knight to God and turned them back to the town. The boar ran further and further till he had wearied out the dogs, then Guingamor took the brachet and loosened the leash, and set it on the track, which it followed of right good will, while the knight did what he might to aid and encourage his uncle's dog by blowing gaily on his horn. Much did the sounds of the chase please him, but ere long he had lost both brachet and boar, he heard neither yelp nor cry and became sor she thought thus to be delivered from him, and never, in all her life, to see him again. So earnestly did she make her prayer that at length the king granted all she might ask. 15 Then Guingamor prayed leave, and went joyful to his dwelling; naught might he sleep that night, but when he saw dawn he arose in haste and made ready, and called to him all his companions, the king's house- 20 hold, who were in much fear for him, and would gladly have hindered his going an they might. He bade them bring him the king's steed which he had lent him the night before, and his brachet, and his good horn, 25 rowful and much displeased; he deemed he which he would not have given for its weight in gold. Two packs of the king's good dogs. did Guingamor take with him, and forgat not the bloodhound. The king himself would accompany him forth from the town, 30 and coming to a high hill he stayed awhile, and with him came the burghers and the courtiers, rich and poor, making great cry and lamentation, and with them too were many ladies sorrowing sorely. had lost the brachet through the thickness of the forest, and he was passing sorrowful for the sake of his uncle who loved the dog so well. So he went still forward into the forest, very sorrowful and much at a loss. The sky was clear and the day fair, all around him sang the birds but he hearkened not to their song. Ere long he heard the To the thicket nearest the city went all 35 brachet give tongue afar off and he began to the huntsmen, taking with them the bloodhound, and seeking for the track of the wild boar, for they knew well where he was wont to haunt. They found the track and knew it, for many a time had they seen it, and 40 traced the beast to his lair in the thick bushes and loosed the bloodhound, and by force drove forth the boar. wind his horn, troubled at heart till he saw the dog. Through a little plantation towards the open ground he saw the brachet and the boar come swiftly, and thought to reach them easily. He spurred his steed to a gallop, nor would delay, rejoicing much at heart and saying to himself that might he take the boar, and return whole and unharmed to court, he would win much fame, and his deed would be spoken of for all time. In the joy of his heart he set the horn to his lips and blew a marvellous great blast. Afore him passed the boar with the brachet close upon its track. Guingamor rode after Then Guingamor sounded his horn and bade them uncouple one pack of dogs and the 45 other lead forward to await him near the forest, but they should not enter therein. Thus Guingamor began the chase and the boar fled before him, leaving his lair unwillingly. The dogs followed, giving tongue, 50 swiftly, through the adventurous land, and hunted him to the verge of the forest, but further might they not go, since they were weary, wherefore they uncoupled the across the perilous river, over the meadowland where the turf was green and flowery; well nigh had he overtaken his prey when he |