The Mabinogion (Oxford World's Classics)

by Sioned Davies

And he saw a knight approaching him, greeting him with joy and love as if he were his brother. That was the Black Oppressor.

  ‘God knows,’ said Owain, ‘I have not come here to seek your welcome.’

  ‘God knows,’ he replied, ‘then you will not get it.’

  And at once they rushed at each other, and fought each other fiercely, and Owain got the better of him, and tied him up with his hands behind his back. And the Black Oppressor asked Owain for mercy, and said to him, ‘Lord Owain,’ he said, ‘it was prophesied that you would come here and overthrow me, and you have come and done that. And I lived here as a robber, and my house was a robber’s den. But spare me my life, and I will become a hospitaller,* and run this house as a hostel for the weak and the strong as long as I live, for your soul’s sake.’ And Owain accepted that, and spent that night there.

  And the next day he took the twenty-four ladies with their horses and clothes, and all the wealth and jewels they had brought with them, and he travelled, together with the ladies, to Arthur’s court.And Arthur had been happy to see him before when he was lost, but he was even happier now. And any of those women wishing to stay at Arthur’s court were allowed to do so, and any wishing to leave were allowed to leave. And Owain remained at Arthur’s court from then on as captain of the retinue, and was dear to Arthur, until he went to his own people. They were the Three Hundred Swords of Cenferchyn and the Flight of Ravens.* And wherever Owain went, and they with him, he was victorious.

  And this tale is called the tale of the Lady of the Well.

  Geraint son of Erbin

  IT was Arthur’s custom to hold court at Caerllion ar Wysg,* and he held it there continually for seven Easters and five Christmasses. Once upon a time he held court there at Whitsuntide,* for Caerllion was the most accessible place in his territory, by sea and by land. He gathered about him there nine crowned kings who were vassals of his, and with them earls and barons, because these would be his guests at every high feast unless pressure of circumstances prevented them. Whenever he was at Caerllion holding court, thirteen churches would be taken up with his Masses. This is how they would be used: a church for Arthur and his kings and his guests, and the second for Gwenhwyfar and her ladies, and the third would be for the steward* and the petitioners, and the fourth for Odiar the Frank* and the other officers. Nine other churches would be set aside for the nine captains of the bodyguard,* and for Gwalchmai above all, for he, on account of his excellent reputation for military feats and his honourable pedigree, was chief of the nine captains of the bodyguard. And not one church would hold more than we have mentioned above.

  Glewlwyd Gafaelfawr was his chief gatekeeper, but he did not concern himself with the office save at one of the three high feasts; but seven men who served under him would share the duties of the year between them, namely Gryn and Penpingion and Llaesgymyn and Gogyfwlch and Gwrddnei Lygaid Cath (who could see as well by night as by day) and Drem son of Dremidydd and Clust son of Clustfeinydd,* who were warriors of Arthur’s.

  On Whit Tuesday, as the emperor was sitting at his feast, behold, a tall, auburn-haired lad entered, wearing a tunic and surcoat of ribbed brocaded silk, and a gold-hilted sword around his neck, and two low boots of Cordovan leather on his feet. And he came up to Arthur.

  ‘Greetings, lord,’ he said.

  ‘May God prosper you,’ he replied, ‘and God’s welcome to you. And do you have any fresh news?’

  ‘I do, lord,’ he replied.

  ‘I do not recognize you,’ said Arthur.

  ‘Now I’m surprised that you do not recognize me. I am a forester of yours, lord, in the Forest of Dean. Madog is my name, son of Twrgadarn.’

  ‘Tell us your news,’ said Arthur.

  ‘I will, lord,’ he said. ‘A stag have I seen in the forest, and I have never in my life seen anything like it’.

  ‘What is there about it for you never to have seen anything like it?’ said Arthur.

  ‘It is pure white, lord, and it does not walk with any other animal out of arrogance and pride because it is so majestic. And it is to ask your advice, lord, that I have come. What is your advice on the matter?’

  ‘I shall do the most appropriate thing,’ said Arthur, ‘and go and hunt it tomorrow at dawn; and let everyone in the lodgings know that, and Rhyferys (who was a chief huntsman of Arthur’s) and Elifri (who was the chief squire), and everyone else.’* They agreed on that, and he sent the squire on ahead.

  Then Gwenhwyfar said to Arthur, ‘Lord,’ she said, ‘will you let me go tomorrow and watch and listen to the hunting of the stag which the squire spoke of?’

  ‘I will, gladly,’ said Arthur.

  ‘Then I will go,’ she said.

  Then Gwalchmai said to Arthur, ‘Lord,’ he said, ‘would it not be appropriate for you to allow the one who catches the stag while hunting to cut off its head and give it to anyone he wishes, either to his own lover or the lover of a friend of his, whether it is a mounted man or a man on foot?’*

  ‘I will allow that, gladly,’ said Arthur, ‘and let the steward take the blame if everyone is not ready in the morning to go hunting.’

  They spent the night in moderation, with songs and entertainment and stories and abundant service. And when they all thought it was time to go to sleep, they went to bed.

  When dawn broke the next day they woke up, and Arthur called on the servants who were in charge of his bed, namely four squires. This is who they were: Cadyriaith son of Porthor Gandwy, and Amhren son of Bedwyr, and Amhar son of Arthur, and Gorau son of Custennin.* These men came to Arthur and greeted him and dressed him. And Arthur was surprised that Gwenhwyfar had not woken up and had not turned over in her bed. The men wanted to wake her.

  ‘Do not wake her,’ said Arthur, ‘since she would rather sleep than go and watch the hunt.’

  Then Arthur went on his way, and he could hear two horns sounding, one near the lodging of the chief huntsman and the other near the lodging of the chief squire. And a full complement of all the men came to Arthur, and they travelled towards the forest. And crossing the Wysg, they made for the forest and left the highroad and travelled exposed high land until they came to the forest.

  After Arthur had left the court Gwenhwyfar woke up, and she called her maidens and got dressed.

  ‘Maidens,’ she said, ‘I was given permission last night to go and watch the hunt. One of you go to the stable and have brought all the horses suitable for women to ride.’

  One of them went, but only two horses were found in the stable. So Gwenhwyfar and one of the maidens went off on the two horses. They crossed through the Wysg and followed the trail and tracks of the men and the horses. As they were travelling thus they could hear a mighty, ferocious noise. They looked behind them and could see a rider on a willow-grey colt, enormous in size, a young, auburn-haired, bare-legged, noble squire with a gold-hilted sword on his thigh, wearing a tunic and surcoat of brocaded silk with two low boots of Cordovan leather on his feet, and a mantle of blue purple over that with a golden apple in each corner. The horse was tall and stately, swift and lively, with a short steady step. The rider caught up with Gwenhwyfar and greeted her.

  ‘May God be good to you, Geraint,’* she replied, ‘and I recognized you when I first saw you just now. And God’s welcome to you. And why did you not go hunting with your lord?’

  ‘Because I did not realize that he had left,’ he said.

  ‘I, too, was surprised that he could have gone without my knowing,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, lady,’ he said, ‘I was also asleep so did not know what time he left.’

  ‘In my opinion, of all the young men in the whole kingdom you are the best companion to have as my escort,’ she said. ‘And we could have as much pleasure from the hunting as they do, because we shall hear the horns when they are sounded and hear the hounds when they are unleashed and begin to bark.’

  They came to the edge of the forest and there they stopped.

  ‘We shall hear when the hounds are unlea
shed from here,’ she said.

  Suddenly they heard a noise. They looked in the direction of the noise, and they could see a dwarf riding a big, sturdy horse, powerful, wide-nostrilled, ground-devouring, courageous, and in the dwarf ’s hand there was a whip. Near the dwarf they could see a woman on a horse, pale-white and handsome with pace smooth and stately, and she was dressed in a golden garment of brocaded silk. And close to her a knight on a great, muddy charger,* with heavy, shining armour on him and his horse. And they were sure that they had never seen a man and horse and armour whose size impressed them more, and all riding close together.

  ‘Geraint,’ said Gwenhwyfar, ‘do you recognize the large knight over there?’

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘That massive, strange armour allows neither his face nor his features to be seen.’

  ‘Go, maiden,’ said Gwenhwyfar, ‘and ask the dwarf who the knight is.’

  The maiden went to meet the dwarf. The dwarf waited for the maiden when he saw her approaching him. She asked the dwarf, ‘Who is the knight?’ she said.

  ‘I will not tell you that,’ he said.

  ‘Since you are so bad-mannered that you will not tell me that,’ she said, ‘I will ask him personally.’

  ‘You will not, by my faith,’ he replied.

  ‘Why?’ she said.

  ‘Because your status is not that of a person for whom it is proper to speak with my lord.’

  Then the maiden turned her horse’s head towards the knight. With that the dwarf struck her with a whip that was in his hand, across her face and eyes, so that the blood flowed. Because of the pain from the blow the maiden returned to Gwenhwyfar, complaining of the pain.

  ‘The dwarf behaved towards you in a very ugly way,’ said Geraint. ‘I shall go,’ said Geraint, ‘and find out who the knight is.’

  ‘Go,’ said Gwenhwyfar.

  Geraint came to the dwarf. He said, ‘Who is the knight?’

  ‘I will not tell you,’ said the dwarf.

  ‘I will ask it of the knight personally,’ he replied.

  ‘You will not, by my faith,’ said the dwarf. ‘Your status is not high enough to entitle you to speak with my lord.’

  ‘I’, said Geraint, ‘have spoken with a man who is as good as your lord,’ and he turned his horse’s head towards the knight. The dwarf overtook him and struck him where he had struck the maiden, until the blood stained the mantle that Geraint was wearing. Geraint placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and turned things over in his head, but decided that it was no revenge for him to kill the dwarf while the armed knight could take him cheaply and without armour. He returned to Gwenhwyfar.

  ‘You behaved wisely and prudently,’ she said.

  ‘Lady,’ he said, ‘I shall go after him again, with your permission, and he will come eventually to a place that is inhabited, where I shall find armour, either on loan or in exchange for surety, so that I shall get the opportunity to test myself against the knight.’

  ‘Go then,’ she said, ‘but do not go too close to him until you get good armour. And I shall worry a great deal about you,’ she said, ‘until I get news of you.’

  ‘If I am still alive, by late afternoon tomorrow you shall have news, if I survive,’ he said. Then he set off.

  They travelled below the court at Caerllion and to the ford over the Wysg, crossed over, and travelled along a fair plain, very high and elevated, until they came to a walled town. At the end of the town they could see a fortress and a castle. They came to the end of the town. As the knight rode through the town the people of every house would rise to their feet to greet and welcome him. When Geraint came to the town he looked in every house to see whether he recognized anyone (but he recognized no one, nor any one him), so that he might secure a favour of armour, either on loan or in exchange for surety. But he could see that every house was full of men and armour and horses, and shields being polished and swords burnished and armour cleaned and horses shod. The knight and the lady and the dwarf made for the castle that was in the town. Everyone in the castle was happy to see them, and on the battlements and on the gates and in every direction people were craning their necks to greet and welcome them.

  Geraint stood and looked to see whether the knight would stay in the castle. When he knew for sure that he was staying, Geraint looked around him. And he could see, a short distance from the town, an old, run-down court and in it a dilapidated hall. Since he knew no one in the town he went towards the old court. When he got to the court he could see hardly anything, but he saw an upper storey and a stairway of marble coming down from the upper storey. On the stairway sat a grey-haired man wearing old, worn-out clothes. Geraint stared hard at him for a long time. The grey-haired man said to him, ‘Squire,’ he said, ‘what are you thinking?’

  ‘I am thinking that I don’t know where I shall stay tonight,’ he said.

  ‘Won’t you come in here, lord?’ he said, ‘and you shall have the best that we can provide for you.’

  ‘I will,’ he replied, ‘and may God repay you.’

  He came forward, and the grey-haired man went to the hall ahead of him. Geraint dismounted in the hall and left his horse there and proceeded to the upper storey, he and the grey-haired man. And in the chamber he could see an elderly woman sitting on a cushion, dressed in old, shabby clothes of brocaded silk. When she had been in the flush of her youth he thought it likely that no one would have seen a fairer woman than she. There was a maiden beside her dressed in a smock and a linen mantle which was quite old and beginning to fall apart. And Geraint was sure that he had never seen any maiden more perfect as regards beauty and elegance and grace than she. The grey-haired man said to the maiden, ‘There is no groom for this squire’s horse tonight apart from you.’

  ‘I shall give the best service that I can,’ she said, ‘both to him and to his horse.’ The maiden took off the squire’s shoes and then gave the horse his fill of straw and corn, and made her way back to the hall and returned to the upstairs chamber. Then the grey-haired man said to the maiden, ‘Go to the town,’ he said, ‘and the best provision you can get of food and drink, have it brought here.’

  ‘I will gladly,’ she said. The maiden went to the town, and they conversed while the maiden was in the town. Soon, behold, the maiden returned and a servant with her, and a flagon on his back full of bought mead, and a quarter of a young bullock. In the maiden’s hands there was a portion of white bread and a loaf of the finest wheat in her linen mantle. She came to the upstairs chamber.

  ‘I could not find any better provision than this,’ she said, ‘nor could I get credit for anything better.’

  ‘It will do very well,’ said Geraint.

  They had the meat boiled, and when their food was ready they went to sit down: Geraint sat between the grey-haired man and his wife, and the maiden waited on them. And they ate and drank.

  When they had finished eating, Geraint began to converse with the grey-haired man and asked him if he was the first to own the court he was in.

  ‘It is I, indeed, who built it,’ he said, ‘and I owned the town with the castle that you have seen.’

  ‘Alas, sir,’ said Geraint, ‘why did you lose that?’

  ‘I lost a large earldom too,’ he replied. ‘And this is why I lost it. I had a nephew, a brother’s son, and I took possession of his kingdom and my own, and when he came to maturity he laid claim to his kingdom. But I kept his kingdom from him. So what he did was to wage war on me and take everything that was under my control.’

  ‘Lord,’ said Geraint, ‘will you tell me about the arrival of the knight who came to the town earlier, and the lady and the dwarf, and why there is all the preparation that I saw for repairing weapons?’

  ‘I will,’ he said. ‘It is preparation for tomorrow, for a game that the young earl plays, namely to set up two forks in a meadow over there, and on the two forks a silver rod. And a sparrowhawk* will be placed on the rod, and a tournament will take place for the sparrowhawk. And the entire crowd of
men and horses and weapons that you saw in the town will come to the tournament; and the woman he loves most will accompany each man, and any man who is not accompanied by the woman he loves most will not be allowed to joust for the sparrowhawk. And the knight you saw has won the sparrowhawk for two years, and if he wins it for a third it will be sent to him every year after that, and he himself will not have to come here, and he will be called the Knight of the Sparrowhawk from then on.’

  ‘Lord,’ said Geraint, ‘what is your advice to me regarding that knight and the insult that I, and a maidservant of Gwenhwyfar, Arthur’s wife, received from the dwarf?’—and Geraint told the grey-haired man the story of the insult.

  ‘I cannot easily advise you, since there is neither a woman nor a maiden that you champion in order that you might go and joust with him. Those weapons there that were mine, you could have those, and if you preferred you could also have my horse rather than your own.’

  ‘Lord,’ he replied, ‘may God repay you. My own horse is good enough for me—I am used to him—together with your armour. And will you not allow me, lord, to champion that maiden over there, your daughter, at the appointed hour tomorrow? And if I survive the tournament my loyalty and love will be hers as long as I live. If I do not survive, the maiden will be as chaste as before.’

  ‘I will agree to that gladly,’ said the grey-haired man. ‘And since you are decided on that course of action, early tomorrow morning your horse and armour will need to be ready, for it is then that the Knight of the Sparrowhawk will make a proclamation, namely, he will ask the woman he loves best to take the sparrowhawk: “since it becomes you best and you won it,” he will say, “a year and two years ago. And if there is anyone who denies it to you today by force, I will defend it for you.” And because of that,’ said the grey-haired man, ‘you must be there at daybreak, and the three of us will be with you.’ They decided on that, and at that hour of the night they went to sleep.

  Before daybreak they arose and got dressed. By the time it was day all four were standing on the bank of the meadow. Then the Knight of the Sparrowhawk was making the proclamation and asking his lady to take the sparrowhawk.