Celtic Myths

by Flame Tree Studio

  Thereupon came in Caridwen and saw all the toil of the whole year lost. And she seized a billet of wood and struck the blind Morda on the head until one of his eyes fell out upon his cheek. And he said, “Wrongfully hast thou disfigured me, for I am innocent. Thy loss was not because of me.” “Thou speakest truth,” said Caridwen, “it was Gwion Bach who robbed me.”

  And she went forth after him, running. And he saw her, and changed himself into a hare and fled. But she changed herself into a greyhound and turned him. And he ran towards a river, and became a fish. And she in the form of an otter-bitch chased him under the water, until he was fain to turn himself into a bird of the air. She, as a hawk, followed him and gave him no rest in the sky. And just as she was about to stoop upon him, and he was in fear of death, he espied a heap of winnowed wheat on the floor of a barn, and he dropped among the wheat, and turned himself into one of the grains. Then she transformed herself into a high-crested black hen, and went to the wheat and scratched it with her feet, and found him out and swallowed him. And, as the story says, she bore him nine months, and when she was delivered of him, she could not find it in her heart to kill him, by reason of his beauty. So she wrapped him in a leathern bag, and cast him into the sea to the mercy of God, on the twenty-ninth day of April.

  And at that time the weir of Gwyddno was on the strand between Dyvi and Aberystwyth, near to his own castle, and the value of an hundred pounds was taken in that weir every May eve. And in those days Gwyddno had an only son named Elphin, the most hapless of youths, and the most needy. And it grieved his father sore, for he thought that he was born in an evil hour. And by the advice of his council, his father had granted him the drawing of the weir that year, to see if good luck would ever befall him, and to give him something wherewith to begin the world.

  And the next day when Elphin went to look, there was nothing in the weir. But as he turned back he perceived the leathern bag upon a pole of the weir. Then said one of the weir-ward unto Elphin, “Thou wast never unlucky until tonight, and now thou hast destroyed the virtues of the weir, which always yielded the value of an hundred pounds every May eve, and tonight there is nothing but this leathern skin within it.” “How now,” said Elphin, “there may be therein the value of an hundred pounds.” Well, they took up the leathern bag, and he who opened it saw the forehead of the boy, and said to Elphin, “Behold a radiant brow!”1 “Taliesin be he called,” said Elphin. And he lifted the boy in his arms, and lamenting his mischance, he placed him sorrowfully behind him. And he made his horse amble gently, that before had been trotting, and he carried him as softly as if he had been sitting in the easiest chair in the world. And presently the boy made a Consolation and praise to Elphin, and foretold honour to Elphin; and the Consolation was as you may see:

  “Fair Elphin, cease to lament!

  Let no one be dissatisfied with his own,

  To despair will bring no advantage.

  No man sees what supports him;

  The prayer of Cynllo will not be in vain;

  God will not violate his promise.

  Never in Gwyddno’s weir

  Was there such good luck as this night.

  Fair Elphin, dry thy cheeks!

  Being too sad will not avail.

  Although thou thinkest thou hast no gain,

  Too much grief will bring thee no good;

  Nor doubt the miracles of the Almighty:

  Although I am but little, I am highly gifted.

  From seas, and from mountains,

  And from the depths of rivers,

  God brings wealth to the fortunate man.

  Elphin of lively qualities,

  Thy resolution is unmanly;

  Thou must not be over sorrowful:

  Better to trust in God than to forbode ill.

  Weak and small as I am,

  On the foaming beach of the ocean,

  In the day of trouble I shall be

  Of more service to thee than three hundred salmon.

  Elphin of notable qualities,

  Be not displeased at thy misfortune;

  Although reclined thus weak in my bag,

  There lies a virtue in my tongue.

  While I continue thy protector

  Thou hast not much to fear;

  Remembering the names of the Trinity,

  None shall be able to harm thee.”

  And this was the first poem that Taliesin ever sang, being to console Elphin in his grief for that the produce of the weir was lost, and, what was worse, that all the world would consider that it was through his fault and ill-luck. And then Gwyddno Garanhir2 asked him what he was, whether man or spirit. Whereupon he sang this tale, and said:

  “First, I have been formed a comely person,

  In the court of Caridwen I have done penance;

  Though little I was seen, placidly received,

  I was great on the floor of the place to where I was led;

  I have been a prized defence, the sweet muse the cause,

  And by law without speech I have been liberated

  By a smiling black old hag, when irritated

  Dreadful her claim when pursued:

  I have fled with vigour, I have fled as a frog,

  I have fled in the semblance of a crow, scarcely finding rest;

  I have fled vehemently, I have fled as a chain,

  I have fled as a roe into an entangled thicket;

  I have fled as a wolf cub, I have fled as a wolf in a wilderness,

  I have fled as a thrush of portending language;

  I have fled as a fox, used to concurrent bounds of quirks;

  I have fled as a martin, which did not avail;

  I have fled as a squirrel, that vainly hides,

  I have fled as a stag’s antler, of ruddy course,

  I have fled as iron in a glowing fire,

  I have fled as a spear-head, of woe to such as has a wish for it;

  I have fled as a fierce hull bitterly fighting,

  I have fled as a bristly boar seen in a ravine,

  I have fled as a white grain of pure wheat,

  On the skirt of a hempen sheet entangled,

  That seemed of the size of a mare’s foal,

  That is filling like a ship on the waters;

  Into a dark leathern bag I was thrown,

  And on a boundless sea I was sent adrift;

  Which was to me an omen of being tenderly nursed,

  And the Lord God then set me at liberty.”

  Then came Elphin to the house or court of Gwyddno his father, and Taliesin with him. And Gwyddno asked him if he had had a good haul at the weir, and he told him that he had got that which was better than fish. “What was that?” said Gwyddno. “A Bard,” answered Elphin. Then said Gwyddno, “Alas, what will he profit thee?” And Taliesin himself replied and said, “He will profit him more than the weir ever profited thee.” Asked Gwyddno, “Art thou able to speak, and thou so little?” And Taliesin answered him, “I am better able to speak than thou to question me.” “Let me hear what thou canst say,” quoth Gwyddno. Then Taliesin sang:

  “In water there is a quality endowed with a blessing;

  On God it is most just to meditate aright;

  To God it is proper to supplicate with seriousness,

  Since no obstacle can there be to obtain a reward from him.

  Three times have I been born, I know by meditation;

  It were miserable for a person not to come and obtain

  All the sciences of the world, collected together in my breast,

  For I know what has been, what in future will occur.

  I will supplicate my Lord that I get refuge in him,

  A regard I may obtain in his grace;

  The Son of Mary is my trust, great in him is my delight,


  For in him is the world continually upholden.

  God has been to instruct me and to raise my expectation,

  The true Creator of heaven, who affords me protection;

  It is rightly intended that the saints should daily pray,

  For God, the renovator, will bring them to him.”

  And forthwith Elphin gave his haul to his wife, and she nursed him tenderly and lovingly. Thenceforward Elphin increased in riches more and more day after day, and in love and favour with the king, and there abode Taliesin until he was thirteen years old, when Elphin son of Gwyddno went by a Christmas invitation to his uncle, Maelgwn Gwynedd, who some time after this held open court at Christmastide in the castle of Dyganwy, for all the number of his lords of both degrees, both spiritual and temporal, with a vast and thronged host of knights and squires. And amongst them there arose a discourse and discussion. And thus was it said.

  “Is there in the whole world a king so great as Maelgwn, or one on whom Heaven has bestowed so many spiritual gifts as upon him? First, form, and beauty, and meekness, and strength, besides all the powers of the soul!” And together with these they said that Heaven had given one gift that exceeded all the others, which was the beauty, and comeliness, and grace, and wisdom, and modesty of his queen; whose virtues surpassed those of all the ladies and noble maidens throughout the whole kingdom. And with this they put questions one to another amongst themselves: Who had braver men? Who had fairer or swifter horses or greyhounds? Who had more skilful or wiser bards – than Maelgwn?

  Now at that time the bards were in great favour with the exalted of the kingdom; and then none performed the office of those who are now called heralds, unless they were learned men, not only expert in the service of kings and princes, but studious and well versed in the lineage, and arms, and exploits of princes and kings, and in discussions concerning foreign kingdoms, and the ancient things of this kingdom, and chiefly in the annals of the first nobles; and also were prepared always with their answers in various languages, Latin, French, Welsh, and English. And together with this they were great chroniclers, and recorders, and skilful in framing verses, and ready in making englyns in every one of those languages. Now of these there were at that feast within the palace of Maelgwn as many as four-and-twenty, and chief of them all was one named Heinin Vardd.

  When they had all made an end of thus praising the king and his gifts, it befell that Elphin spoke in this wise. “Of a truth none but a king may vie with a king; but were he not a king, I would say that my wife was as virtuous as any lady in the kingdom, and also that I have a bard who is more skilful than all the king’s bards.” In a short space some of his fellows showed the king all the boastings of Elphin; and the king ordered him to be thrown into a strong prison, until he might know the truth as to the virtues of his wife, and the wisdom of his bard.

  Now when Elphin had been put in a tower of the castle, with a thick chain about his feet (it is said that it was a silver chain, because he was of royal blood), the king, as the story relates, sent his son Rhun to inquire into the demeanour of Elphin’s wife. Now Rhun was the most graceless man in the world, and there was neither wife nor maiden with whom he had held converse, but was evil spoken of. While Rhun went in haste towards Elphin’s dwelling, being fully minded to bring disgrace upon his wife, Taliesin told his mistress how that the king had placed his master in durance in prison, and how that Rhun was coming in haste to strive to bring disgrace upon her. Wherefore he caused his mistress to array one of the maids of her kitchen in her apparel; which the noble lady gladly did; and she loaded her hands with the best rings that she and her husband possessed.

  In this guise Taliesin caused his mistress to put the maiden to sit at the board in her room at supper, and he made her to seem as her mistress, and the mistress to seem as the maid. And when they were in due time seated at their supper in the manner that has been said, Rhun suddenly arrived at Elphin’s dwelling, and was received with joy, for all the servants knew him plainly; and they brought him in haste to the room of their mistress, in the semblance of whom the maid rose up from supper and welcomed him gladly. And afterwards she sat down to supper again the second time, and Rhun with her. Then Rhun began jesting with the maid, who still kept the semblance of her mistress. And verily this story shows that the maiden became so intoxicated, that she fell asleep; and the story relates that it was a powder that Rhun put into the drink, that made her sleep so soundly that she never felt it when he cut from off her hand her little finger, whereupon was the signet ring of Elphin, which he had sent to his wife as a token, a short time before. And Rhun returned to the king with the finger and the ring as a proof, to show that he had cut it from off her hand, without her awaking from her sleep of intemperance.

  The king rejoiced greatly at these tidings, and he sent for his councillors, to whom he told the whole story from the beginning. And he caused Elphin to be brought out of his prison, and he chided him because of his boast. And he spake unto Elphin on this wise. “Elphin, be it known to thee beyond a doubt that it is but folly for a man to trust in the virtues of his wife further than he can see her; and that thou mayest be certain of thy wife’s vileness, behold her finger, with thy signet ring upon it, which was cut from her hand last night, while she slept the sleep of intoxication.” Then thus spake Elphin. “With thy leave, mighty king, I cannot deny my ring, for it is known of many; but verily I assert strongly that the finger around which it is, was never attached to the hand of my wife, for in truth and certainty there are three notable things pertaining to it, none of which ever belonged to any of my wife’s fingers. The first of the three is, that it is certain, by your grace’s leave, that wheresoever my wife is at this present hour, whether sitting, or standing, or lying down, this ring would never remain upon her thumb, whereas you can plainly see that it was hard to draw it over the joint of the little finger of the hand whence this was cut; the second thing is, that my wife has never let pass one Saturday since I have known her without paring her nails before going to bed, and you can see fully that the nail of this little finger has not been pared for a month. The third is, truly, that the hand whence this finger came was kneading rye dough within three days before the finger was cut therefrom, and I can assure your goodness that my wife has never kneaded rye dough since my wife she has been.”

  Then the king was mightily wroth with Elphin for so stoutly withstanding him, respecting the goodness of his wife, wherefore he ordered him to his prison a second time, saying that he should not be loosed thence until he had proved the truth of his boast, as well concerning the wisdom of his bard as the virtues of his wife.

  In the meantime his wife and Taliesin remained joyful at Elphin’s dwelling. And Taliesin showed his mistress how that Elphin was in prison because of them, but he bade her be glad, for that he would go to Maelgwn’s court to free his master. Then she asked him in what manner he would set him free. And he answered her:

  “A journey will I perform,

  And to the gate I will come;

  The hall I will enter,

  And my song I will sing;

  My speech I will pronounce

  To silence royal bards,

  In presence of their chief,

  I will greet to deride,

  Upon them I will break

  And Elphin I will free.

  Should contention arise,

  In presence of the prince,

  With summons to the bards,

  For the sweet flowing song,

  And wizards’ posing lore

  And wisdom of Druids,

  In the court of the sons of the Distributor

  Some are who did appear

  Intent on wily schemes,

  By craft and tricking means,

  In pangs of affliction

  To wrong the innocent,

  Let the fools be silent,

  As erst in Badon’s fight,
–

  With Arthur of liberal ones

  The head, with long red blades;

  Through feats of testy men,

  And a chief with his foes.

  Woe be to them, the fools,

  When revenge comes on them.

  I Taliesin, chief of bards,

  With a sapient Druid’s words,

  Will set kind Elphin free

  From haughty tyrant’s bonds.

  To their fell and chilling cry,

  By the act of a surprising steed,

  From the far distant North,

  There soon shall be an end.

  Let neither grace nor health

  Be to Maelgwn Gwynedd,

  For this force and this wrong;

  And be extremes of ills

  And an avenged end

  To Rhun and all his race:

  Short be his course of life,

  Be all his lands laid waste;

  And long exile be assigned

  To Maelgwn Gwynedd!”

  After this he took leave of his mistress, and came at last to the Court of Maelgwn, who was going to sit in his hall and dine in his royal state, as it was the custom in those days for kings and princes to do at every chief feast. And as soon as Taliesin entered the hall, he placed himself in a quiet corner, near the place where the bards and the minstrels were wont to come in doing their service and duty to the king, as is the custom at the high festivals when the bounty is proclaimed. And so, when the bards and the heralds came to cry largess, and to proclaim the power of the king and his strength, at the moment that they passed by the corner wherein he was crouching, Taliesin pouted out his lips after them, and played ‘Blerwm, blerwm,’ with his finger upon his lips. Neither took they much notice of him as they went by, but proceeded forward till they came before the king, unto whom they made their obeisance with their bodies, as they were wont, without speaking a single word, but pouting out their lips, and making mouths at the king, playing “Blerwm, blerwm,” upon their lips with their fingers, as they had seen the boy do elsewhere. This sight caused the king to wonder and to deem within himself that they were drunk with many liquors. Wherefore he commanded one of his lords, who served at the board, to go to them and desire them to collect their wits, and to consider where they stood, and what it was fitting for them to do. And this lord did so gladly. But they ceased not from their folly any more than before. Whereupon he sent to them a second time, and a third, desiring them to go forth from the hall. At the last the king ordered one of his squires to give a blow to the chief of them named Heinin Vardd; and the squire took a broom and struck him on the head, so that he fell back in his seat. Then he arose and went on his knees, and besought leave of the king’s grace to show that this their fault was not through want of knowledge, neither through drunkenness, but by the influence of some spirit that was in the hall. And after this Heinin spoke on this wise. “Oh, honourable king, be it known to your grace, that not from the strength of drink, or of too much liquor, are we dumb, without power of speech like drunken men, but through the influence of a spirit that sits in the corner yonder in the form of a child.” Forthwith the king commanded the squire to fetch him; and he went to the nook where Taliesin sat, and brought him before the king, who asked him what he was, and whence he came. And he answered the king in verse.