The Mabinogion (Oxford World's Classics) (11 page)

Then they went to Harlech, and sat down and were regaled with food and drink. As soon as they began to eat and drink, three birds came and began to sing them a song, and all the songs they had heard before were harsh compared to that one. They had to gaze far out over the sea to catch sight of the birds, yet their song was as clear as if the birds were there with them. And they feasted for seven years.

At the end of the seventh year they set out for Gwales in Penfro. There was a pleasant royal dwelling for them there, above the sea, and there was a large hall, and they went to the hall. They could see two doors open; the third door was closed, the one facing Cornwall.

‘See over there,’ said Manawydan, ‘the door we must not open.’ That night they stayed there contented and lacking nothing. And of all the sorrow they had themselves seen and suffered, they remembered none of it nor of any grief in the world. And there they spent eighty years so that they were not aware of ever having spent a
more pleasurable or more delightful time. It was no more unpleasant than when they first arrived, nor could anyone tell by looking at the other that he had aged in that time. Having the head there was no more unpleasant than when Bendigeidfran had been alive with them.
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Because of those eighty years, this was called The Assembly of the Noble Head. (The one which went to Ireland was The Assembly of Branwen and Matholwch.)

One day Heilyn son of Gwyn said, ‘Shame on my beard
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unless I open the door to find out if what they say about it is true.’ He opened the door, and looked at Cornwall, and at Aber Henfelen. And when he looked, every loss they had ever suffered, and every kinsman and companion they had lost, and every ill that had befallen them was as clear as if they had encountered it in that very place; and most of all concerning their lord. And from that moment they could not rest but made for London with the head. Although the road was long, they came at last to London and buried the head on the Gwynfryn. And that was one of the Three Fortunate Concealments when it was concealed, and one of the Three Unfortunate Disclosures
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when it was disclosed; for no oppression would ever come across the sea to this island while the head was in that hiding-place. And that is how the story goes: their tale is called ‘The Men who Set Out from Ireland’.

In Ireland no one was left alive except for five pregnant women in a cave in the wilds of Ireland. Those five women, at exactly the same time, gave birth to five sons. And they reared those five sons until they were big lads, and their thoughts turned to women, and they lusted after them. Then each lad slept promiscuously with each other’s mother, and lived in the land and ruled it, and divided it between the five of them. And the five provinces of Ireland still reflect that division.
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And they searched the country where battles had taken place, and found gold and silver until they grew wealthy.

And that is how this branch of the Mabinogi ends, concerning the Blow to Branwen which was one of the Three Unfortunate Blows
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in this Island; and the Assembly of Brân, when the army of one hundred and fifty-four districts went to Ireland to avenge the Blow to Branwen; and the Feasting in Harlech for seven years; and the Singing of the Birds of Rhiannon, and the Assembly of the Head for eighty years.

A
FTER
the seven men we spoke of above
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had buried Bendigeidfran’s head on the Gwynfryn in London, with its face towards France, Manawydan looked at the town of London and at his companions, and heaved a great sigh, and immense sorrow and longing came over him.

‘Alas Almighty God, woe is me!’ he said. ‘I am the only one who has no place to go tonight.’

‘Lord,’ said Pryderi, ‘do not be so sad. Your cousin Caswallon
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is king over the Island of the Mighty; and although he has done you wrong,’ he said, ‘you have never claimed land or territory—you are one of the Three Undemanding Chieftains.’
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‘Well,’ he said, ‘although that man may be my cousin, I am extremely sad to see anyone take the place of Bendigeidfran my brother, and I could not be happy under the same roof as him.’

‘Will you take any other advice?’ said Pryderi.

‘I need it,’ he said, ‘and what advice is that?’

‘The seven cantrefs of Dyfed
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were left to me,’ said Pryderi, ‘and Rhiannon, my mother, lives there. I shall give her to you, together with the authority over those seven cantrefs. Although it may be the only realm you have, there are no better seven cantrefs. My wife is Cigfa, daughter of Gwyn Gloyw,’ he said. ‘And although the realm will be mine in name, let the benefits be yours and Rhiannon’s. And if you ever wanted a realm of your own, perhaps you could take that one.’

‘I have never wanted one, lord,’ he said, ‘but may God repay you your friendship.’

‘The best friendship I can give shall be yours, if you want it.’

‘I do, friend,’ he said. ‘May God repay you. And I shall go with you to visit Rhiannon and the realm.’

‘You are doing the right thing,’ he said. ‘I am sure that you have never heard a woman converse better than Rhiannon. When she was
in her prime, there was no woman more beautiful, and even now you will not be disappointed with her looks.’

They set off. Although the road was long, they came at last to Dyfed. A feast had been prepared for them, ready for their arrival at Arberth, arranged by Rhiannon and Cigfa.

Then Manawydan and Rhiannon sat together and began to converse; and as a result of that conversation his head and heart grew tender towards her, and he was delighted that he had never seen a woman who was fairer or more beautiful than her.

‘Pryderi,’ he said, ‘I will agree to your proposal.’

‘What was that?’ said Rhiannon.

‘My lady,’ said Pryderi, ‘I have given you as a wife to Manawydan son of Llŷr.’

‘I will agree to that gladly,’ said Rhiannon.

‘I am glad, too,’ said Manawydan, ‘and may God repay the man who gives me such firm friendship.’ Before that feast finished, he slept with her.

‘Continue with what is left of the feast,’ said Pryderi, ‘and I will go to England to pay homage to Caswallon son of Beli.’

‘Lord,’ said Rhiannon, ‘Caswallon is in Kent, so you can continue with the feast and wait until he is closer.’

‘Then we will wait for him,’ said Pryderi. They finished the feast, and began to make a circuit of Dyfed where they hunted and enjoyed themselves.

As they wandered through the land they had never seen a place more pleasant to live in, nor better hunting ground, nor land more abundant in honey and fish. And during that time a friendship developed between the four of them, so that not one wished to be without the other, either day or night. In the meantime Pryderi went to pay homage to Caswallon in Oxford, where he was given a great welcome, and was thanked for paying homage. When he returned, Pryderi and Manawydan feasted and relaxed.

They began a feast at Arberth, for it was one of the chief courts, and every celebration originated from there. That night after the first sitting, while the servants were eating, they got up and went out, and the four of them proceeded to Gorsedd Arberth
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and many people with them. As they were sitting there they heard a tumultuous noise, and with the intensity of the noise there fell a blanket of mist so that they could not see each other. And after the
mist, everywhere became bright. When they looked to where they had once seen the flocks and herds and dwelling-places, they could now see nothing at all, neither building nor beast, neither smoke nor fire, neither man nor dwelling-place, only the court buildings empty, desolate, uninhabited, without people, without animals in them; their own companions had disappeared, with nothing known of their whereabouts—only the four of them remained.
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‘Dear Lord God,’ said Manawydan, ‘where is the court retinue and our company, apart from us? Let us go and look.’

They came to the hall; there was no one. They went to the chamber and sleeping-quarters; they could see no one. In the mead-hall and kitchen, there was nothing but desolation.

The four of them continued with the feast; and they hunted, and enjoyed themselves. Each one of them began to wander through the land and realm to see whether they could find either a building or dwelling-place; but nothing at all did they see, only wild animals. When they had finished their feast and provisions, they began to live on meat they hunted, and on fish and swarms of wild bees. And so they spent a year happily, and the second. But at last they grew tired.

‘God knows,’ said Manawydan, ‘we cannot live like this. Let us go to England, and seek a craft by which we may make our living.’

They set off for England, and came to Hereford, and took up saddlemaking. Manawydan began to shape pommels, and colour them with blue enamel in the way he had seen it done by Llasar Llaesgyngwyd, and he prepared blue enamel as the other man had done. And because of that it is still called ‘Llasar’s enamel’, because Llasar Llaesgyngwyd
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made it. As long as that work could be had from Manawydan, neither pommels nor saddles were purchased from any other saddler throughout all Hereford. All the saddlers realized that they were losing their profits, and that nothing was being bought from them unless it could not be supplied by Manawydan. So they got together and agreed to kill him and his companion. But in the meantime the two of them received a warning, and discussed whether they should leave the town.

‘Between me and God,’ said Pryderi, ‘my advice is not to leave the town but rather to kill these churls.’

‘No,’ said Manawydan, ‘if we were to fight them, we would get a bad reputation and would be imprisoned. It would be better for us
to go to another town and earn our living there.’ Then the four of them went to another city.

‘What craft shall we take on?’ said Pryderi.

‘We will make shields,’ said Manawydan.

‘Do we know anything about that?’ said Pryderi.

‘We will attempt it,’ he said.

They began making shields, shaping them after the design of good shields that they had seen, and colouring them as they had coloured the saddles. Their work flourished, so that no shield was being bought throughout the town unless it could not be supplied by them. They worked quickly and made vast quantities. And so they continued until their fellow townsmen became angry with them and agreed to try and kill them. But they received a warning and heard that the men were intent on putting them to death.

‘Pryderi,’ said Manawydan, ‘these men want to kill us.’

‘We will not take that from these churls. Let us go for them and kill them.’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘Caswallon would get to hear of it, and his men, and we would be ruined. We will go to another town.’ They came to another town.

‘What craft shall we take up?’ said Manawydan.

‘Whatever craft you want of those we know,’ said Pryderi.

‘Not so,’ he said, ‘we will take up shoemaking. Shoemakers will not have the heart to fight us or forbid us.’

‘I know nothing about that craft,’ said Pryderi.

‘But I do,’ said Manawydan, ‘and I will teach you how to stitch. And we will not bother to tan the leather but buy it already prepared, and work with that.’

Then he began to buy the finest Cordovan leather
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he could get in town, and bought no other leather except leather for the soles. He began to make friends with the best goldsmiths in town and had buckles made for the shoes, and had them gilded, and watched the process himself until he knew how to do it. And because of that he was called one of the Three Golden Shoemakers.
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As long as a shoe or boot could be supplied by him, nothing was bought from any shoemaker throughout town. The shoemakers realized that they were losing their profits, for as Manawydan cut out the leather, Pryderi stitched it. The shoemakers came and took counsel; they agreed to kill them.

‘Pryderi,’ said Manawydan, ‘the men want to kill us.’

‘Why should we take that from the thieving churls, rather than kill them all?’ said Pryderi.

‘No,’ said Manawydan, ‘we will not fight them nor will we stay in England any longer. We will set off and go and visit Dyfed.’

Although the road was long, they came at last to Dyfed, and made for Arberth where they kindled a fire, and began to support themselves by hunting, and they spent a month like this; they gathered their hounds about them and hunted, and spent a year there in this way.

One morning Pryderi and Manawydan get up to hunt; they get their dogs ready and leave the court. Some of the dogs run ahead of them and approach a small thicket that is nearby. But as soon as they enter the thicket they come out again quickly, their hair standing on end with fear, and return to the men.

‘Let us get closer to the thicket to see what is inside,’ said Pryderi.

They approached the thicket. As they approached, a gleaming-white wild boar
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rose from it. Encouraged by the men, the dogs charged at him. The boar then left the thicket and retreated a little way from the men. And until the men closed in on him, he would keep the dogs at bay without retreating; but when the men closed in he would retreat again and break away. They followed the boar until they saw a huge, towering fort, newly built, in a place where they had never before seen either stone or building. The boar was heading quickly for the fort, with the dogs after him. When the boar and the dogs had gone into the fort, the men marvelled at seeing the fort in a place where they had never before seen any building at all. From the top of the mound they looked and listened for the dogs. Although they waited for a long time, they did not hear the sound of a single dog nor anything at all about them.