From The Mabinogion: The Legend of Rhiannon & Pwyll



Pwyll, Lord Of Davyd


Pwyll Lord of Dyved ruled over the seven cantrevs of the land. One day his thoughts turned to hunting while in his chief court at Arberth. Glynn Cuch was the part of his realm that he wanted to hunt so he set out that evening and spent the night at Penn Llwyn on Bwya. In order to turn his hounds loose in the forest; he blew his horn and began to muster the hunt, but while riding after the hounds, he became separated from his companions. While listening to the baying of his pack, he perceived the cry of another, a different cry which was advancing towards him. He spied the other pack in a clearing in the forest with a stag running before it, and watched as his pack reached the edge of the field. This other pack overtook the stag and brought it down. Pwyll at once remarked the pack's colour, without bothering to look at the stag, for no hound he had ever seen was the colour of these; a dazzling shining white with red ears, and as the whiteness of the dogs shone so did the redness of their ears. He approached and drove off the strange hounds and baited his own upon the stag.

As Pwyll was about this he saw a rider approaching on a great dapple-grey horse. He was wearing a hunting horn round his neck and a hunting dress of greyish-brown material. The horseman rode up to him and said, "Chieftain, I know who you are, but I will not great you." "Well," replied Pwyll, "perhaps your rank prevents your doing so." "God knows, it is not the degree of my rank which prevents me." "What else, chieftain?" asked Pwyll. The stranger replied, "Between me and God, your own rudeness and discourtesy." "Chieftain, what discourtesy have you seen in me?" "In no man have I seen greater discourtesy than driving away the pack which has killed a stag and baiting one's own pack upon it. That was your discourtesy, and though I will take no vengeance, between me and God, I will dishonour you to the value of a hundred stags." "Chieftain, if I have done wrong, I will earn your friendship." "How?" asked the other. "As befits your rank, only I do not know who you are." "I am a crowned king in my own land." "What land do you come from?" "Annwvyn, I am Arawn King of Annwvyn." "Lord, how can I earn your friendship?" "This is how. There is a man - Havgan King of Annwvyn - whose realm borders on mine, and he is constantly waging war against me. By ridding me of his oppression, which you can do easily, you will earn my friendship." "I will do that gladly. Only tell me how I can." said Pwyll.

"That I will," said Arawn. "We will make a strong bond of friendship. I will send you into Annwvyn in my place, and give you the loveliest woman you have ever seen to sleep with every night; moreover I will endow you with my shape and appearance so that no chamberlain, no officer, no follower of mine will know that you are not I. All this for a year and a day, and then we will meet again here." "Fair enough. But even if I stay in your land for a year, how am I to find the man of whom you speak?" "A year from tonight he and I are to meet at the ford. You will be there in my place; strike him once blow, which he will not survive, and if he asks you to finish him off hold your hand, no matter how much he begs you. For however often I struck him, the next day he would be fighting as well as before." "Very well," said Pwyll, "but what will I do with my own kingdom?" "I will see that neither man nor woman knows that I am not you, for I will go in your place." "Then I will be glad to go." "Your journey will be free of trouble; nothing will impede your progress to my kingdom, for I myself will guide you."

Arawn led Pwyll to where they could view the court and other dwellings. "My court and kingdom are now yours. Make straight for the court. No one there will fail to recognize you, and as you observe the people's behavior you will learn our customs." Pwyll rode towards the court and once inside he noticed the finest assembly of buildings anyone had seen. He entered the great hall to change. Youths and servants stroke towards him and pulled off his boots. Many greeted him as they went by. He was clothed in a gold brocade garment and the hall was made ready. Upon entering he could see the finest troops and companies he had ever seen and with them was the queen, dressed in shining gold brocade, the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen. She took her place to one side of Pwyll and the earl was on the other. Pwyll talked to his queen and she was little affected and most gracious in disposition and conversation. They passed the time drinking and eating and singing and carousing. Of all the courts he had seen, this one was the best supplied with golden plate and royal jewels.

When it came time to sleep Pwyll and his queen went to bed. He turned his face to the edge and had his back to her, nor did he speak another word before morning. The following day the tenderness and affection returned in their conversation, however not one night during the following year was different from the first.

Pwyll spent that year hunting, singing, and carousing. His days were filled with fellowship and in pleasant talk with his companions. On the night of the meeting he was accompanied by the nobles. When they reached the ford Pwyll said, "Nobles, listen well. This encounter lies between the two kings, in single combat, for each one claims the land and the domain of the other; therefore let everyone else stand back." The two kings drew near and met in the middle of the ford. The man who was in Arawn's place struck Havgan's shield so that it split into two halves. His armour shattered and he was thrown an arm and a spear's length over his horse's hindquarters to the ground where he lay mortally wounded. "Chieftain, what right did you have to kill me?" asked Havgan, who apparently knew that his opponent was not actually Arawn. "I made no claim against you, nor do I know of any reason why you should kills me. But since you have begun so, finish me off now." "Chieftain, I may yet regret doing to you what I have done. He may wishes to may strike you again, but I will not." "Loyal followers," said Havgan, "carry me away, for my end is now certain, and I can no longer maintain you." "Sirs," said the man who was in Arawn's place, "talk among yourselves and decide who ought to be my men." They answered, "Lord, all men ought to be, for there is over Annwvyn no king but yourself." Thus he received the homage of the men and began to rule the land, and by noon the following day both realms were in his power.

Arawn was awaiting Pwyll when he arrived at the meeting place and each was glad to see the other. "God reward your friendship," said Arawn. "Well," said Pwyll, "when you arrive in your own land, you will see what I have done for you." "For what you have done, God reward you." Arawn restored Pwyll's shape and appearance and took back his own so that each man was himself once more.

Arawn was happy to see his troops when he returned to his court in Annwvyn, though his arrival was of no great novelty because they knew nothing of his absence. He spent the day in pleasure and merrymaking and sat and talked with his wife and nobles. When it came time to sleep, Arawn and his wife went to bed rather than carousing. His wife came to him and at once he began talking to her and held her, caressing her lovingly. "My God, how different he is tonight from what he has been." He spoke to her once time, a second, then a third but she gave him no answer. "Why do you not answer me?" Arawn asked. "I tell you that for a year I have not spoken at all in this place." "How can that be? We have always talked in bed." "Shame on me," she said, "if since a year from yesternight this bed has seen conversation or pleasure between us, or even your turning your face to me, let alone any more." Arawn set to thinking and said, "Lord God what a faithful comrade I took for a friend! Lady, do not blame me, for I have neither lain down nor slept with you this past year." He then told her what had happened, and she said, "I confess to God, you made a strong pact for your friend to have fought off the temptations of the flesh and kept faith with you." "Lady, that was my thought when I was silent." "No wonder," she said.

Meanwhile, Pwyll Lord of Dyved arrived in his realm and questioned his nobles as to how his country was ruled the past year compared to previous ones. They answered, "Lord, never have you been so perceptive, nor so kind. Never have you distributed your goods more freely. Never was your discernment so marked." "Between me and God, you ought rather to thank the man who was with you." And he told them what had happened. "Well, lord, thank God you made such a friend. As for the rule we have known this past year, surely you will not take it from us?" "Between me and God," said Pwyll, "I will not."

From that time on the friendship between Pwyll and Arawn grew. Each sent the other horses, hounds, and other treasures he thought his friend might like. Moreover, because of Pwyll's sojourn in Annwvyn, and because he reigned so prosperously and united the two realms, the name Pwyll Lord of Dyved fell into disuse, and he was called Pwyll Head of Annwvyn ever after.



Pwyll's Encounter With Rhiannon


One day Pwyll was in his chief court at Arberth where a feast had been prepared and a great number of men had assembled. He rose to take a walk and set out for Gorsedd Arberth, the hill that rose above the court. One of his men said, "Lord, it is the property of this hill that whenever a man of royal blood sits on it, one of two things happen: he receives blows and wounds, or sees a wonder." "I do not expect to receive blows or wounds in the company of such a host, and I would be glad to see a wonder. I will go and sit on the hill."

As they were sitting on this hill a woman dressed in shining gold brocade and riding a great pale horse approached the highway which ran past them. Anyone who saw the horse would have said it was moving at a slow steady pace as it drew adjacent to the hill. "Men," said Pwyll, "does anyone know that horsewoman?" "No, lord," they answered. "Then let someone go and find out who she is." A man rose to go after her but by the time he reached the highway she had already gone past. He tried to follow her on foot, but she drew farther ahead of him. When he saw his pursuit was in vain he returned and told Pwyll, "Lord, it is pointless for anyone to follow her on foot." "All right. Go to the court and take the fastest horse you know and go after her." The man fetched the horse and set out after her. Once he reached open country his spurs found his mount, but no matter how much he urged the steed onward the farther ahead she drew, all the while going at the same pace as before. His horse tired and he slowed it to a walk and returned to where Pwyll was waiting. "Lord, it is useless for anyone to follow that lady. I know of no horse in the entire kingdom faster than this one, and I could not overtake her." "All right, but there is some hidden meaning here. Let us return to court."

They spent the next two days there until dinner time that second day. After the first sitting Pwyll said, "Well, let those who went out yesterday accompany me to the hill now. And you," he said to one of the lads, "bring along the fastest horse you know of in the field." The lad did as he was asked and they went to the hill with the horse with them. As they were sitting there they saw the woman in the brocade garment riding the same horse along the highway. "There is the horsewoman of yesterday," Pwyll said. "Lad, be ready to find out who she is." "Gladly, lord." The horsewoman drew opposite. The lad mounted his horse, but before he could settle into the saddle she had gone past and put distance between them, all the while travelling at the same steady pace as the previous day. He kept his horse at a walk thinking that he could surely overtake her but he could not. He gave the horse its head, but even then he was no closer to her and the farther ahead she drew. Perceiving the pursuit was useless he returned to where Pwyll was waiting. "Lord, the horse cannot do better than you have seen." "I have seen it is useless for anyone to pursue her, but between me and God she had an errand for someone on this plain, had her obstinacy not prevented her declaring it. Let us return to the court."

They spent the night singing and carousing until dinner time the next day. After all had sat down for dinner Pwyll said, "Where are the men who went to the top of the hill yesterday and the day before?" "Here we are, lord." "Then let us go to the hill and sit there. And you," he said to the stableboy, "saddle my horse and bring it to the highway, and bring my spurs as well." They reached the hill and sat down. Almost immediately they saw the horsewoman in the same dress coming along the highway at the same pace. "Lad, I see our horsewoman coming, give me my horse." Pwyll mounted and settled into his saddle but no sooner had he done this than the lady rode past him. Giving his spirited horse its head he turned to follow, thinking he could easily overtake her, yet he drew no closer than before. He pushed his steed to its utmost speed until he saw that the pursuit was useless.

Pwyll then called out, "Lady, for the sake of the man you love best, stop for me!" "I will, gladly," she said, "and it would have been better for your horse had you asked me that earlier." The lady reined in her horse and haulted. She drew up the part of her veil which covered her face and fixed her gaze on Pwyll and they began to talk. "Lady," said Pwyll, "where do you come from, and where are you going?" "I am doing my errands," she said, "and I am glad to see you." "I welcome you," Pwyll said, for it seemed to him that the beauty of every girl and woman he had ever seen was nothing compared to the face of this lady. "Lady, will you tell me anything of your errands?" "Between me and God I will. My most important errand was to try to see you." "That seems to me the best errand you could have come on. Will you tell me your name?" "Lord, I will. I am Rhiannon daughter of Heveydd the Old. I am being given to a man against my will. I have not wanted any husband and that because of my love for you. Even now I will not have him unless you reject me, and it is to hear your answer to me that I have come." "Between me and my God, here is my answer. Had I my choice of every girl and woman in the world, I would choose you." "Well, if that is how you feel, then set a time for us to meet before I am given to another man." "The best time for me would be the soonest, in whatever place you like. Set the date." "That I will, lord; a year from this night in Heveydd's court. I will see that a feast is prepared for your arrival." "I will certainly keep that appointment," Pwyll said. "Lord, farewell, and remember to keep your promise. I will leave you now." They parted and he returned to his troops and whenever they inquired about the lady he would turn to other topics.

The year passed and time came for Pwyll and ninety-nine companions to ride to the court of Heveydd the Old. There was great joy at their arrival. A huge assembly rejoiced to see them and a great feast has been prepared and all the court's resources were at Pwyll's disposal. The hall was made ready and they entered and sat down. Heveydd sat on one side of Pwyll and Rhiannon on the other, and everyone else according to rank. They ate, talked and caroused. After the first course they noticed a tall, auburn-haired, noble-looking youth in silk garment enter the hall. He approached the upper end and greeted Pwyll and his companions. "God's greeting to you, friend," said Pwyll, "sit down." "I will not, for I am a suppliant and I have an errand." "Go on," Pwyll said. "Lord, it is with you my errand lies, for I have come to ask you a favour." "Whatever you ask, so far as it lies within my power you shall have it." "Alas, why did you answer him so?" said Rhiannon. Then the youth said, "Lady, he has given his answer in the presence of these nobles." "Friend," asked Pwyll, "what is your request?" The young spoke, "The woman I love best you are to sleep with tonight. It is to ask for her, and for the preparations and the feast, that I have come."

Pwyll fell silent, for there was no answer her could give. "You had better not say any more," said Rhiannon, "for I have never seen such a feeble-witted performance." "Lady, I did not know who he was." "This is the man to whom I was to be given against my will, Gwawl son of Clud, a powerful lord with many followers. As you have given your words, you had better give me to him before you dishonour yourself." "Lady, I do not know what sort of answer that is. I could never bring myself to do as you say." "Give me to him and I will arrange it so that he will never have me." "How can that be?" asked Pwyll. "I will give you a little bag, which you must keep with you. He will ask for the preparations and the feast, but those do not lie within your power, for I will give the feast to your host and your company, and this will be your answer to him concerning that.

"As for me, I will set a date, a year from this night, for him to sleep with me, and at that time, you with your bag and your ninety-nine horsemen, must station yourselves in the orchard above the court. When Gwawl is in the midst of feasting and carousing you must enter dressed in shabby clothes and with the bag in your hand. You must ask for nothing more than the filling of the bag with food, for I will see that even if all the food and drink in these seven cantrevs is put into the bag it will be no fuller than before. After a great deal has been put in Gwawl will ask you if your bag will ever be full and you must answer that is will not unless a very powerful noble rises and pressed down the food with both feet and says, 'Enough has been put inside.' I will persuade Gwawl to rise and tread down the food in the bag, and when he does, turn the bag so that he is upside down inside and tie the strings of the bag into a knot. Wear a hunting horn around your neck, and when Gwawl is securely in the bag sound the horn, and let that be the signal to your horsemen. When they hear your horn, they are to descend upon the court."

"Lord, it is about time I had an answer to my request," said Gwawl. Pwyll answered, "You shall have as much of your request as it is in my power." "Friend," said Rhiannon, "as for the preparations and the feast which are here, I have already given them to the troops and companies of Dyved, and I cannot allow them to be given to anyone else. But a year from this night in this court a feast will be prepared for you, my friend, and you shall sleep with me."

Gwawl set out for his kingdom and Pwyll returned to Dyved. Each spent the following year waiting for the feast in the court of Heveydd the Old. Gwawl son of Clud set out for the feast which had been prepared for him. When he arrived he was greeted joyfully. Pwyll Head of Annwvyn went to the orchard with his ninety-nine horsemen and his bag, just as Rhiannon had requested him to do. Wearing a shabby outfit with big rag boots on his feet he perceived that the carousing after the first course had begun and made his way to the hall. When he reached the upper end he greeted Gwawl and the companions, both men and women. "God be good to you," said Gwawl, "and His welcome to you." "Lord, God reward you," Pwyll said. I am a suppliant." "Your request is welcome, and if it is reasonable I will gladly grant it." "It is reasonable, lord, for I ask only to ward off hunger. My request is the filling of this little bag with food." "A modest request that is, and I will gladly grant it. Bring him food." A great number of servants rose and began filling the bag, but however much was put in it, it was no fuller than before. "Friend, will your bag ever be full?" asked Gwawl. "Between me and God, it will not, unless a nobleman of land and possessions rises and presses the food down into the bag with both feet and says, 'Enough has been put inside.' " "Champion, rise at once," said Rhiannon to Gwawl. "Gladly," said Gwawl, and he rose and put both feet in the bag, which Pwyll turned so that he was head over heels inside. Pwyll then closed it quickly and knotted the strings and blew his horn. At this his company fell upon the court and took prisoner the host that had come with Gwawl, while Pwyll threw off his rags and tattered boots. Upon entering, each of Pwyll's number struck the bag and asked, "What is this?" "A badger," the rest of the men replied. This is how they played the game. Each man would strike the bag with his foot or his staff and as he did so he would ask, "What game are you playing?" "The game of Badger in the Bag," they would all cry. This was the first playing of Badger in the Bag.

"Lord, if you would listen to me," said the man in the bag, "death in a bag is no proper end for me." "What he says is true, lord," said Heveydd the Old. "You ought to listen to him, that is no proper death." "Then I will follow your advice in this matter," said Pwyll, whereupon Rhiannon said, "This is what you should do. You are in a position where it is customary to satisfy the requests of suppliants and minstrels. Require Gwawl there to give the presents on your behalf, and have him swear that he will make no claim and seek no revenge. That is punishment enough." "He will get that gladly," said the man in the bag. "I will gladly accept the advice of Heveydd and Rhiannon," said Pwyll. "Well, that is our advice." "Then I will take it." Heveydd said, "Obtain sureties for yourself; we will answer for his conduct until his men are free to do so," and with that Gwawl was released from the bag and his men were freed. Then Heveydd said, "Now ask for your sureties - we know what ought to be asked for," and he drew up a list of sureties. "Arrange your own conditions," said Gwawl, but Pwyll answered, "I am satisfied with what Rhiannon has drawn up," and the sureties were arranged on those terms. Then Gwawl said, "Lord, I am injured and have sustained many wounds. I have need of a healing bath and so, with your permission, I will go now. But I will leave men behind on my behalf to answer anyone who might have a request." "Gladly," said Pwyll, so Gwawl departed for his own kingdom.

The hall was made ready for Pwyll and his company and those of Heveydd's court. They entered and sat down, and they sat down now as they had the year before. They all feasted and caroused, and when bed time Pwyll and Rhiannon retired to their chamber and spent the night in pleasure and delight. The next morning Rhiannon said, "Lord, rose now and begin to content the minstrels, and do not refuse anyone who desires a gift." "Gladly," said Pwyll, "today and every day, as long as the feast lasts." He rose and called for silence, asking all suppliants and minstrels to present themselves. He announced the every whim and fancy would be satisfied. This was done; the feast went on and on, and while it lasted no one was turned away. When it ended Pwyll said to Heveydd, "With your permission, lord, I will depart for Dyved tomorrow." "Godspeed, then," said Heveydd, "and will you set a time for Rhiannon to follow you?" "Between me and God, we will leave together." "Is that your will, lord?" "Between me and God, it is." The next day they left for Dyved, making for the court at Arberth where a feast was being prepared. An assembly of the noblest men and women in the kingdom came and not one of them, man or woman, left Rhiannon without being given a memorable gift; a brooch or a ring or a precious stone.



Rhiannon's Misfortune


Pwyll and Rhiannon ruled Dyved prosperously the first and second year. The third year, however, the men of Dyved began to fret at seeing this man whom they loved as their lord and foster-brother still childless. They summoned Pwyll to a meeting in Presseleu and spoke thus, "Lord, we realize you are not as old as some men in the land, but we fear that your wife will never bear you a child. Take another woman so that you may have an heir. You will not last forever, and though you may wish matters to remain as they are, we will not permit it." "Well, even now we have not been together long, and much may yet happen," answered Pwyll. "Give me another year. At the end of that time we will meet again and I will accept your advice."

They set a date and before the end of that year Rhiannon bore Pwyll a son in Arberth. On the ever of his birth women were brought to the chamber to care for the mother and child, but these women and Rhiannon fell asleep. Six women had been brought and they did watch part of the night but fell asleep before midnight and slept until dawn. Upon waking they searched around where they had left the boy, but there was nigh a trace of him. "Alas! The boy is lost!" said one woman. "Yes," said another, "and they would consider it getting off lightly if we were only burned or executed." "Is there any hope for us?" "There is - I have a good plan." "What is it?" they all asked. "There is a deerhound here with pups. We can kill some of the pups, smear Rhiannon's hands and face with the blood, throw the bones before her and insist that she destroyed her own child - it will be her word against the six of us."

They agreed and settled on this plan. Towards daybreak Rhiannon woke and asked, "Women, where is my child?" "Lady, do not ask us for the lad. We are nothing but blows and bruises from struggling with you, and we are certain that we have never seen such a fight in any woman, so that all our struggling was in vain." "Poor souls," said Rhiannon, "by the Lord God who knows all things, do not accuse me falsely. God who knows all things knows your words are false. If you are afraid, by my confession to God, I will protect you." "God knows that we will not bring harm on ourselves for anyone's sake." "Poor souls, you will come to no harm telling the truth." But whether her words were kind or pleading, Rhiannon got only the one answer from the women.

Pwyll Head of Annwvyn rose, with his company and his retinue, and the incident could not be kept from them. The story went around the land and all the nobles heard it. They assembled and sent to Pwyll to ask him to separate from his wife because of the terrible outrage she had committed. Pwyll replied, "You have no reason to ask me to put away my wife, except for her being childless, and since I know that she has borne a child I will not part from her. If she has done wrong, let her be punished." Rhiannon summoned teachers and wise men, and as she preferred being punished to arguing with the women, she accepted her punishment. She had to remain for seven years at the court of Arberth, where she was to sit every day by the mounting-block near the gate and tell her story to those who might not already know it. She was also to offer to carry guests and strangers to the court on her back, though it was seldom that anyone let himself be transported thusly. Rhiannon spent part of a year in this manner.

At that time the lord of Gwent Ys Coed was Teirnon Twrvliant the best man in the world. Teirnon had a mare in his house, and there was not a more handsome horse in the whole of the land. Every May Eve she foaled, but no one ever knew anything of the colt, so that Teirnon, in talking one night with his wife, said, "Wife, we are fools to lose the foal of our mare every year without getting even one of them." "What can you do about it?" "It is May Eve this night," said he, "God's revenge on me if I do not find out what fate the foals have met with." So he had the mare brought inside while he armed himself and took up watch.

As night fell the mare foaled. The colt was large and without flaw and already standing. Teirnon rose to note the sturdiness of the colt, and as he did so he heard a great noise. A great claw came through the window and seized the colt by the mane. Teirnon drew his sword and hacked the arm off at the elbow so that the colt and part of the arm were inside with him. Hearing a loud crash and a scream, he opened the door and tore out after the noise, but the night was dark and he could see nothing. He was about to rush off to follow when he remembered that he had left the door open. When he returned, he found a small child in swaddling clothes and wrapped in a silk mantle lying beside the door.

Teirnon picked up the lad and noticed that he was strong for his age. He then closed the door and made for his wife's chamber. "Lady, are you asleep?" "No, lord, I was, but I awoke as you came in." "Here is a boy for you, if you want him, for that is the one thing you have never had." "Lord, what story is this?" she asked, and he told her what had happened. "Lord, what kind of cloth is this the boy is wrapped in?" "A brocade mantle." "Then he is the son of noble folk. Lord, if you approve, this could be a joy and a comfort to me. I will take some women into my confidence, and we will let out that I have been pregnant." "I will gladly agree to that," Teirnon said.

The boy was baptized in the manner usual for that time and was given the name Gwri Golden Hair, because what hair was on his head was as yellow as gold. He was brought up at the court, and before he was a year old he could walk and was sturdier than a well-grown lad of three. At the end of the second year he was as strong as a six-year-old, and by the time he was four he was already bargaining with the stableboys to let him water the horses. "Lord," said Teirnon's wife, "where is the colt you rescued the night you found the boy?" she asked. "I gave it into the care of the stableboys and ordered it to be looked after." "Would it not be a good idea to have it broken in and given to the boy? After all, you found the lad on the same night the colt was born." "I will not argue against that - I will let you give it to him." "God reward you, lord, I will do that." So the horse was given to the boy, and Teirnon's wife went to the stableboys and grooms and commanded them to look after the colt and break it in for when the boy would go riding and there would be a story about him.

Meanwhile, they heard the news of Rhiannon and of her plight. Teirnon listened to the tales about her punishment and made constant inquiries. He heard numerous laments from those who came from Arberth over Rhiannon's misfortune and disgrace. He though about all this and looked closely at the lad. It was clear to him that his appearance was that of his father's. He had never seen father and son who resembled each other so much as Pwyll Head of Annwvyn and this lad. Pwyll's appearance was well known to Teirnon, who had once been his man. Teirnon looked now and was seized with anxiety, for he realized how wrong it was to keep a boy whom he knew to be another's son. He went to his wife and told her it was not right for them to keep the lad and allow so noble a lady as Rhiannon to be punished when the boy was actually Pwyll's son. His wife agreed to send Gwri back to Pwyll, "for we will gain in three ways, lord: thanks and gratitude for releasing Rhiannon from her punishment, Pwyll's thanks for rearing the boy and returning him, and finally, if the boy grows into a good man, he will be our foster-son and will always do the best he can for us."

They decided to give the boy back and the next day Teirnon and three companions equipped themselves and set out, with the boy as a fourth on the horse Teirnon's wife had given him. They made for Arberth and it wasn't long before they arrived. When they reached the court they saw Rhiannon sitting by the mounting-block, and as they drew near she said, "Chieftain, come no nearer. I will carry each one of you to the court, since that is my punishment for killing my son and destroying him with my own hands." "Lady," answered Teirnon, "I do not suppose any of us will allow you to carry him." Then the boy said, "let him be carried who will, but I will not." "God knows, friend, none of us will." said Teirnon.

When they entered the court there was great rejoicing at their arrival. A feast was about to begin. Pwyll himself had just returned from a circuit of Dyved, so they all went in to wash, and Pwyll was glad to see Teirnon. They sat down thus: Teirnon between Pwyll and Rhiannon, and his two companions above Pwyll with the boy between them. After the first course they began to talk and carouse, and Teirnon told the tale of the mare and how he found the boy that same night. He spoke of how of how the lad had been in the care of himself and his wife and how they had brought him up, and he said to Rhiannon, "Lady, look upon your son, for whoever lied about you did wrong. When I heard of your grief I was sorrowful and griefstricken myself. I do not suppose that anyone in this company will deny that the lad is Pwyll's son." "No, we have no doubt that he is," they all said. "Between me and God," said Rhiannon, "what a relief from my anxiety if all this is true!" "Lady, you have named your son well," said the Chieftain of Dyved, "for Pryderi son of Pwyll Head of Annwvyn is the name which suits him best." Rhiannon answered, "Ask if his own name does not suit him better." "What was his name?" asked the Chieftain of Dyved. "We called him Gwri Golden Hair." "Then Pryderi should be his name," said the Chieftain of Dyved. Then Pwyll said, "It is right to name the boy after what his mother said when she received good news of him." So they named him Pryderi.

Pwyll said, "Teirnon, God reward you for bring up the boy all this time. If he grows into a good man he too ought to reward you." "Lord, my wife reared the boy and no one in the world could grieve more over losing him than she does. He ought to remember, for my sake and hers, what we have done for him." "Between me and God," said Pwyll, "I will maintain both you and your land, so long as I am alive and able to maintain myself, and if he lives, it would be more fitting that he support you. If you and these nobles agree, since you have reared him until now, we will send him to be fostered by the Chieftain of Dyved henceforth, and you shall all be companions and foster-fathers to him." Everyone agreed that this was a good idea, so the boy was given to the Chieftain of Dyved and the nobles all allied themselves with him. Teirnon and his companions then set forth for their own land, amid gladness and rejoicing. Teirnon did not leave without being offered the finest jewels and the best horses and dogs, but he would accept nothing.

They remained in their own realms after that and Pryderi son of Pwyll was brought up carefully, as was proper, until he was the most perfect lad and the handsomest and most accomplished at every feat in the kingdom. Thus they passed the years until Pwyll's life came to an end and he died. Pryderi ruled the seven cantrevs of Dyved prosperously, beloved by his country and by all round him. Moreover, he conquered the three cantrevs of Ystrad Tywi and the four cantrevs of Keredigyawn, and these are now called the seven cantrevs of Seissyllwch. He campaigned until it was time for him to take a wife, and he took Kigva daughter of Gwynn the Splendid son of Gloyw Wide Hair son of the ruler Casnar, one of the nobles of this island.



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