The Story of King Arthur and Other Celtic Heroes

by Padraic Colum

  So he took her with him to the table against her will, and many times desired her to eat. “I call Heaven to witness,” said she, “that I will not eat until the man who is on yonder bier shall eat likewise.” “Thou canst not fulfil that,” said the earl, “yonder man is dead already.” “I will prove that I can,” said she. Then he offered her a goblet of wine. “Drink this goblet,” he said, “and it will cause thee to change thy mind.” “Evil betide me,” she answered, “if I drink aught until he drink also.” “Truly,” said the earl, “it is of no more avail to me to be gentle with thee than ungentle.” And he gave her a box on the ear.

  Thereupon she raised a loud and piercing shriek, and her lamentations were much greater than they had been before, for she considered in her mind that had Geraint been alive, the earl durst not have struck her thus. And, behold, at the sound of her cry, Geraint revived from his swoon, and he sat up on the bier, and finding his sword in the hollow of his shield, he rushed to the place where the earl was, and struck him a fiercely-wounding, severely-venomous, and sternly-smiting blow upon the crown of his head. All who were there left the board, and fled away. And this was not so much through fear of the living as through the dread they felt at seeing the dead man rise up and slay their chieftain.

  And now Geraint looked upon Enid. And as he looked on her he was grieved for two causes; one was, to see that Enid had lost her colour and her wonted aspect, and the other, to know that she had been in the right. “Lady,” said he, “knowest thou where our horses are?” “I know, Lord, where thy horse is,” she replied, “but I know not where is the other. Thy horse is in the house yonder.” So he went to the house, and brought forth his horse, and mounted him, and took up Enid from the ground, and placed her upon the horse with him. And he rode forward.

  He rushed to the place where the earl was.

  Now their road lay between two hedges, and as they went on the night was gaining on the day. And lo! they saw behind them the shafts of spears betwixt them and the sky, and they heard the trampling of horses, and the noise of a host approaching. “I hear something following us,” said he, “and I will put thee on the other side of the hedge.” And thus he did. Thereupon, behold, a knight pricked towards him, and couched his lance. When Enid saw this, she cried out from the other side of the hedge, saying, “Oh! Chieftain, whoever thou art, what renown wilt thou gain by slaying a dead man?” “Oh! Heaven,” said he, “is it Geraint?” “Yes, in truth,” said she. “And who art thou?” “I am the Little King,” he answered, “coming to thy assistance, for I heard that thou wast in trouble.”

  Then said Geraint, “Nothing can happen without the will of Heaven, though much good results from counsel.” “Yes,” said the Little King, “and I know good counsel for thee now. Come with me to the court of a son-in-law of my sister, which is near here, and thou shalt have the best medical assistance in the kingdom.” “We will first journey for one day more,” said Geraint, “and return again.”

  Again they set forth. And more gladly and more joyfully did Enid journey with them that day than she had ever done. They came to the main road. And when they reached a place where the road divided in two, they beheld a man on foot coming towards them along one of these roads, and the Little King asked the man whence he came. “I come,” said he, “from an errand in the country.” “Tell me,” said Geraint, “which is the best for me to follow of these two roads.” “That is the best for thee to follow,” answered he, “for if thou goest by this one, thou wilt never return. Below us,” said he, “there is a hedge of mist, and within it are enchanted games, and no one who has gone there has ever returned. And the court of the Earl Owen is there.”

  They went into the town, and they ate, and they were amply served. And when they had finished eating they arose. And Geraint called for his horse, and he accoutred both himself and his horse. And they went forth until they came to the side of the hedge, and the hedge was so lofty that it reached as high as they could see in the air, and upon every stake in the hedge, except two, there was the head of a man, and the number of stakes throughout the hedge was very great. Then said the Little King, “May no one go on with the chieftain?” “No one may,” said Owen. “Which way may I enter?” inquired Geraint. “I know not,” said Owen, “but enter by the way thou wilt, and that seemeth easiest to thee.”

  Then fearlessly and unhesitatingly Geraint dashed forward into the mist. And on leaving the mist, he came to a large orchard; and in the orchard he saw an open space, wherein was a tent of red satin; and the door of the tent was open, and an apple tree stood in front of the door of the tent; and on a branch of the apple tree hung a large hunting-horn. Geraint dismounted, and went into the tent; and there was no one in the tent save one maiden sitting in a golden chair, and another chair was opposite to her, empty.

  Geraint went to the empty chair, and sat down therein. “Ah! Chieftain,” said the maiden, “I would not counsel thee to sit in that chair.” “Wherefore?” said Geraint. “The man to whom that chair belongs has never suffered another to sit in it.” “I care not,” said Geraint, “though it displease him that I sit in the chair.”

  Thereupon there was a mighty tumult around the tent. Geraint looked to see what was the cause of the tumult. He beheld without a knight mounted upon a large war horse, proudly snorting, high-mettled, and large of bone; and a robe of honour in two parts was upon him and upon his horse, and beneath it was plenty of armour. “Tell me, Chieftain,” said the knight to Geraint, “who it was that bade thee sit there?” “Myself,” answered he. “It was wrong of thee to do me this shame and disgrace. Arise, and do me satisfaction for this insolence.”

  Then Geraint arose; and they encountered immediately; and they broke a set of lances, and a second set, and a third; and they gave each other fierce and frequent strokes; and at last Geraint became enraged, and he urged on his horse, and he rushed upon the knight, and he gave him a thrust on the centre of the shield, so that it was split, and so that the head of his lance went through his armour, and his girths were broken, and he himself was borne headlong to the ground the length of Geraint’s lance and armour, over his horse’s crupper. “Oh, my Lord,” he cried, “thy mercy, and thou shalt have what thou wilt.” “I only desire,” said Geraint, “that this shall no longer exist here, nor the hedge of mist, nor magic, nor enchantment.”

  “Thou shalt have this gladly, Lord,” the strange knight replied. “Cause, then, the mist to disappear from this place,” said Geraint. “Sound yonder horn,” said he, “and when thou soundest it, the mist will vanish; but it will not go unless the horn be blown by the knight by whom I am vanquished.” Then Geraint went and sounded the horn.

  Sad and sorrowful was Enid where she remained, through anxiety concerning Geraint. She heard the horn sound. And at the first blast, the mist vanished.

  And the mist went from between Geraint and Enid, and from between Geraint and the host on the other side. They came together, and they all became reconciled to each other. Owen invited Geraint and the Little King to stay with him that night. The next morning they separated. Geraint went towards his own dominions with Enid; and thenceforth he reigned prosperously, and his warlike fame and splendour lasted with renown and honour both to him and to Enid from that time forth.

  THE DREAM OF RONABBWAY

  There was once a party of men who went upon a quest that need not be told of here. One of the men was called Ronabbway. And Ronabbway and some others came together to a house that they knew of. But when they came near, they saw an old hall, very black and having an upright gable, whence issued a great smoke; and on entering, they found the floor full of puddles and mounds; and it was difficult to stand thereon, so slippery was it with the mire of cattle. There were boughs of holly spread over the floor, whereof the cattle had browsed the sprigs. When the men came into the house, they beheld an old hag making a fire. And whenever she felt cold she cast a lapful of chaff upon the fire, and raised such a smoke that it was scarcely to be borne, as it rose up to the nos
trils. On the other side of the house there was a yellow calfskin on the floor.

  And when the men came within there arose a storm of wind and rain, so that it was hardly possible to go forth with safety. And being weary with their journey, they laid themselves down and sought to sleep. When they looked at the couch, it seemed to be made but of a little coarse straw full of dust and vermin, with the stems of boughs sticking up therethrough, for the cattle had eaten all the straw that was placed at the head and the foot. And upon it was stretched an old russet-coloured rug, threadbare and ragged; and a coarse sheet, full of slits, was upon the rug, and an ill-stuffed pillow, and a worn-out cover upon the sheet. And after much suffering from the vermin, and from the discomfort of their couch, a heavy sleep fell upon Ronabbway’s companions. But Ronabbway, not being able either to sleep or to rest, thought he should suffer less if he went to lie upon the yellow calf-skin that was stretched out on the floor. And there he slept.

  As soon as sleep came upon his eyes, it seemed to him that he was journeying with his companions across a plain, and he thought that he went towards the Severn. As he journeyed, he heard a mighty noise, the like whereof heard he never before; and looking behind him, he beheld a youth mounted on a chestnut horse, whereof the legs were grey from the top of the forelegs, and from the bend of the hindlegs downwards. The rider wore a coat of yellow satin sewn with green silk, and on his thigh was a gold-hilted sword, with a scabbard of new leather of Cordova, belted with the skin of a deer, and clasped with gold. And over this was a scarf of yellow satin wrought with green silk, the borders whereof were likewise green. The green of the caparison of the horse, and of his rider, was as green as the leaves of the fir-tree, and the yellow was as yellow as the blossom of the broom.

  Now as this knight came toward them, his aspect was so fierce that fear seized upon Ronabbway and his companions, and they began to flee. The knight pursued them. And when his horse breathed forth, the men became distant from him, and when the horse drew in his breath, they were drawn near to him, even to the horse’s chest. When the knight had overtaken Ronabbway and his companions, they besought his mercy. “You shall have it gladly,” said he, “fear nought.” “Ha, Chieftain, since thou hast mercy upon me, tell me also who thou art,” said Ronabbway. “I am Iddog, yet not by my name, but by my nickname, am I best known.” “And wilt thou tell me what thy nickname is?” “I will tell thee, but I will tell thee after this.”

  All this was in Ronabbway’s dream. And he and his companions with the knight journeyed over the plain as far as a ford on the Severn. And for a mile around the ford on both sides of the road, they saw tents and encampments, and there was the clamour of a mighty host. And they came to the edge of the ford, and there they beheld King Arthur; he was on a flat island below the ford. And a tall, auburn-haired youth stood before him, with his sheathed sword in his hand, and clad in a coat and cap of jet-black satin. The youth’s face was as white as ivory, and his eyebrows black as jet, and such part of his wrist as could be seen between his glove and his sleeve was whiter than the lily, and thicker than a warrior’s ankle.

  And in Ronabbway’s dream, he and the knight and his companions stood before King Arthur and saluted him. “Heaven grant thee good,” said Arthur to the knight, “and where didst thou find these little men?” said he, looking at Ronabbway and his companions. “I found them, Lord, up yonder on the road,” said the knight. Then King Arthur smiled. “Lord,” said the knight, “wherefore dost thou laugh?” “I laugh not,” said Arthur; “but it pitieth me that men so small as these should have this Island in their keeping, after the men who guarded it in my time.” Then said the knight to Ronabbway, “Dost thou see the ring with the stone set in it, that is upon the King’s hand?” “I see it,” he answered. “It is one of the properties of that stone to enable thee to remember what thou seest here to-night, and hadst thou not seen the stone, thou wouldst never have been able to remember aught thereof.”

  Then they heard a call made for Arthur’s servant, and a red, rough, ill-favoured man, upon a tall red horse with the mane parted on each side, came forward, and he brought with him a large and beautiful sumpter pack. He dismounted before Arthur, and he drew a golden chair out of the pack, and a carpet of diapered satin. And he spread the carpet before Arthur, and he placed the chair upon the carpet. And so large was the chair that three armed warriors might have sat therein.

  Then Ronabbway saw Arthur sitting on the chair within the carpet, and he saw Owen standing before him. “Owen,” said Arthur, “wilt thou play chess?” “I will, Lord,” said Owen. And Arthur’s servant brought the chess for Arthur and Owen; golden pieces and a board of silver. And they began to play.

  And while they were playing, behold they saw a white tent with a red canopy, and the figure of a jet-black serpent on the top of the tent, and red, glaring, venomous eyes in the head of the serpent, and a red flaming tongue. Then there came a young page who bore a heavy, three-edged sword with a golden hilt, in a scabbard of black leather tipped with fine gold. And he came to the place where King Arthur and Owen were playing at chess.

  The youth saluted Owen. And Owen marvelled that the youth should salute him, and should not have saluted the King. Arthur knew what was in Owen’s thoughts, and he said, “Marvel not that the youth salutes thee now, for he saluted me erewhile; and it is unto thee that his errand is.” Then said the youth to Owen, “Lord, is it with thy leave that the young pages and attendants of the King harass and torment and worry thy Ravens? And if it be not with thy leave, cause the King to forbid them.” “Lord,” said Owen to the King, “thou hearest what the youth says; if it seem good to thee, forbid them from my Ravens.” “Play the game,” said Arthur. They played, and the youth returned to the tent.

  That game did they finish, and another they began, and when they were in the middle of the game, behold, a ruddy young man with auburn curling hair and large eyes, well-grown, and having his beard new-shorn, came forth from a bright yellow tent, upon the top of which was the figure of a bright red lion. In his hand there was a huge, heavy, three-edged sword with a scabbard of red deer-hide, tipped with gold. He came to the place where Arthur and Owen were playing at chess. He saluted Owen. And Owen was troubled at his salutation, but Arthur minded it no more than before. The youth said unto Owen, “Is it not against thy will that the attendants of the King harass thy Ravens, killing some and worrying others? If against thy will it be, beseech him to forbid them.” “Lord,” said Owen, “forbid thy men, if it seem good to thee.” “Play thy game,” said the King. And the youth returned to the tent.

  And that game was ended and another begun. As they were beginning the first move of the game, they beheld at a small distance from them a tent speckled yellow, the largest ever seen, and the figure of an eagle of gold upon it, and a precious stone on the eagle’s head. And coming out of the tent, they saw a youth with thick yellow hair upon his head, fair and comely, and a scarf of blue satin upon him, and a brooch of gold in the scarf upon his right shoulder as large as a warrior’s middle finger. In the hand of the youth was a mighty lance, speckled yellow, with a newly sharpened head; and upon the lance a banner displayed.

  Fiercely angry, and with rapid pace, came the youth to the place where Arthur was playing at chess with Owen. They perceived that he was wroth. And thereupon he saluted Owen, and told him that his Ravens had been killed, the chief part of them, and that such of them as were not slain were so wounded and bruised that not one of them could raise its wings a single fathom above the earth. “Lord,” said Owen, “forbid thy men.” “Play,” said Arthur, “if it please thee.” Then said Owen, speaking to the youth, “Go back, and wherever thou findest the strife at the thickest, there lift up the banner, and let come what pleases Heaven.”

  So the youth returned back to the place where the strife bore hardest upon the Ravens, and he lifted up the banner; and as he did so they all rose up in the air, wrathful and fierce and high of spirit, clapping their wings in the wind, and shaking off the we
ariness that was upon them. And recovering their energy and courage, furiously and with exultation did they, with one sweep, descend upon the heads of the men, who had erewhile caused them anger and pain and damage, and they seized some by the heads, and some by the ears, and others by the arms, and carried them up into the air; and in the air there was a mighty tumult with the flapping of the wings of the triumphant Ravens, and with their croaking; and there was another mighty tumult with the groaning of the men, who were being torn and wounded, and some of whom were slain.

  And Arthur and Owen marvelled at the tumult as they played at chess; and, looking, they perceived a knight upon a dun-coloured horse coming towards them. Bright red was the horse’s right shoulder, and from the top of his legs to the centre of his hoof was bright yellow. Both the knight and his horse were fully equipped with heavy foreign armour. A large gold-hilted one-edged sword had the knight upon his thigh. The belt of the sword was of dark green leather with golden slides and a clasp of ivory upon it, and a buckle of jet-black upon the clasp. A helmet of gold was upon the head of the knight, set with precious stones of great virtue, and at the top of the helmet was the image of a flame-coloured leopard with two ruby-red stones in its head, so that it was astounding for a warrior, however stout his heart, to look at the face of the leopard, much more at the face of the knight. He had in his hand a blue-shafted lance, but from the haft to the point it was stained crimson-red with the blood of the Ravens.

  The knight came to the place where Arthur and Owen were seated at chess. And they perceived that he was harassed and vexed and weary as he came towards them. The youth saluted Arthur and told him that the Ravens of Owen were slaying his young men and attendants. And Arthur looked at Owen and said, “Forbid thy Ravens.” “Lord,” said Owen, “play thy game.” They played. And the knight returned back towards the strife, and the Ravens were not forbidden any more than before.