The Mabinogion (Oxford World's Classics)

by Sioned Davies

  ‘Yes,’ said Arthur, ‘go and change your clothes and take your food and throw off your weariness, and before you leave you shall have an answer.’

  They went to eat. Then Arthur considered how it would not be easy for him to let Geraint leave him or his court. Nor was it easy or fair for him to prevent his cousin from defending his kingdom and its boundaries, since his father was unable to defend them. No less was the concern and grief of Gwenhwyfar, and all the women and maidens, for fear that Enid would leave them. They spent that day and that night with an abundance of everything, and Arthur told Geraint of the messengers’ arrival from Cornwall, and of the nature of their errand.

  ‘Well, lord,’ said Geraint, ‘whatever advantage or disadvantage may come to me from that, I will do what you want regarding that errand.’

  ‘Here is my advice to you on the matter,’ said Arthur. ‘Although your leaving will be painful to me, go and take possession of your kingdom and defend your boundaries. And take with you the men that you want, and those you love best of my faithful followers and of your own friends and fellow knights as escorts.’

  ‘May God repay you, and I will do that,’ said Geraint.

  ‘What murmuring do I hear between you?’ said Gwenhwyfar. ‘Does it concern escorts for Geraint to his country?’

  ‘It does,’ said Arthur.

  ‘I too must think of escorts and provisions for my lady,’ she said.

  ‘You are right,’ said Arthur. That night they went to sleep.

  The next day the messengers were allowed to leave, and were told that Geraint would follow after them. The third day after that Geraint set out. These are the men who went with him: Gwalchmai son of Gwyar, and Rhiogonedd son of the king of Ireland, and Ondiaw son of the duke of Burgundy, Gwilym son of the king of France, Hywel son of the king of Brittany, Elifri Anaw Cyrdd, Gwyn son of Tringad, Gorau son of Custennin, Gwair Gwrhyd Fawr, Garannaw son of Golithmer, Peredur son of Efrog, Gwyn Llogell Gwŷr, court justice to Arthur, Dyfyr son of Alun Dyfed, Gwrei Gwalstawd Ieithoedd, Bedwyr son of Bedrawd, Cadwri son of Gwrion, Cai son of Cynyr, Odiar the Frank, court steward to Arthur—* ‘and Edern son of Nudd, who I hear is fit to ride, I want him to come with me,’ said Geraint.

  ‘But’, said Arthur, ‘it is not proper for you to take that man with you, although he has recovered, until peace is made between him and Gwenhwyfar.’

  ‘Gwenhwyfar could permit him to come with me in exchange for sureties.’

  ‘If she gives her permission, she must do so freely, without sureties, for the man has enough troubles and tribulations on account of the dwarf insulting the maiden.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Gwenhwyfar, ‘whatever you and Geraint deem to be right in this matter I shall do gladly, lord.’ Then she allowed Edern to go freely; and plenty more went as Geraint’s escorts.

  They set off and travelled towards the Hafren, the finest retinue that anyone had ever seen. On the far side of the Hafren were the noblemen of Erbin son of Custennin, led by his foster-father, receiving Geraint gladly, and many of the women of the court sent by his mother to meet Enid daughter of Ynywl, his wife. And all the court and the entire kingdom felt great joy and happiness at meeting Geraint, so much did they love him, and so great the fame he had won since he had left them, and because he was intent on coming to take over his own kingdom and to defend its boundaries. They came to the court, where there was a splendid, abundant profusion of various dishes, and plenty of drink and generous service and all kinds of songs and games. In Geraint’s honour all the noblemen of the kingdom were invited that night to meet him. They spent that day and that night relaxing in moderation. Early the next day Erbin got up and summoned Geraint to him, and the noblemen who had escorted him; and he said to Geraint, ‘I am a man heavy with age,’ he said, ‘and while I was able to maintain the kingdom for you and for myself, I did so. But you are a young man, and in the prime of life and flower of youth. You must maintain your kingdom now.’

  ‘Well,’ said Geraint, ‘if it were my choice, you would not be placing control of your kingdom into my hands at this moment, nor would you have taken me from Arthur’s court just yet.’

  ‘I am now placing control into your hands, and receive also the homage of your men today.’

  Then Gwalchmai said, ‘It is best for you to satisfy the suitors today, and receive your kingdom’s homage tomorrow.’

  Then the suitors were summoned to one place; and Cadyriaith came to them to consider their intention and ask each one of them what he wanted. And Arthur’s retinue began to give gifts. And immediately the men of Cornwall came and they too gave. And none of them gave for long, such was the haste of each one of them to give. Of those who came there to ask for gifts, not one left there without getting what he wanted. And that day and that night they spent relaxing in moderation.

  Early the next day Erbin asked Geraint to send messengers to his men to ask them whether it was convenient for him to come and receive their homage, and whether they felt angry or hurt because of anything they had against him. Then Geraint sent messengers to the men of Cornwall to ask them that, and they replied that they felt, each one of them, only sheer joy and honour at Geraint’s coming to receive their homage. Then he received the homage of all those present. And there, together, they spent the third night. The next day, Arthur’s retinue asked permission to depart.

  ‘It is too soon for you to depart yet. Stay with me until I have finished receiving the homage of all my noblemen who intend coming to me.’

  They stayed until he had done that, and they set out for Arthur’s court. Then Geraint went to escort them, both he and Enid, as far as Dynganwyr, and then they parted. Then Ondiaw son of the duke of Burgundy said to Geraint, ‘First travel the far ends of your kingdom,’ he said, ‘and examine your kingdom’s boundaries thoroughly and keenly, and if anxiety gets the better of you, tell your companions.’

  ‘May God repay you,’ he said, ‘and I will do that.’ Then Geraint made for the far ends of his kingdom, and skilful guides went with him from among the noblemen of his kingdom, and he kept in mind the furthest boundary that he was shown.

  As had been his custom in Arthur’s court, Geraint went to tournaments, and became known to the bravest and strongest men until he was renowned in that region as in the place he was before, and until he had made his court and his companions and his noblemen wealthy with the best horses and the best armour and the best and most exceptional golden jewels. He did not desist until his fame had spread over the face of the kingdom. When he saw that, he began to enjoy relaxation and leisure—for there was no one worth fighting—and making love to his wife and being at peace in his court with songs and entertainment, and he settled down to that for a while. But then he began to enjoy staying in his chamber alone with his wife so that nothing else pleased him, until he was losing the affection of his noblemen as well as his hunting and his pleasure, and the affection of all the company at court, until there was murmuring and mocking in secret by the court household because he was so completely deserting their company for the love of a woman. Those words reached Erbin; and when Erbin heard them he told Enid, and he asked her whether it was she who was causing this in Geraint, and encouraging him to abandon his household and company.

  ‘Not I, by my confession to God,’ she said, ‘and there is nothing I hate more than that.’ But she did not know what to do for it was not easy for her to disclose that to Geraint. Nor was it any easier for her to listen to what she heard without warning Geraint about it. And so she became extremely anxious.

  One morning in the summer they were in bed (he on the outer edge, and Enid had not slept) in a chamber of glass, and the sun shining on the bed; and the bedclothes had slipped off his chest and arms, and he was asleep. She gazed at this handsome and wonderful sight, and said, ‘Woe is me,’ she said, ‘if it is on my account that these arms and chest are losing the fame and prowess they once possessed.’

  With that, her tears streamed down until they fell on his chest. And
that was one of the things that woke him up, together with the words she had just spoken. And a different thought disturbed him, that it was not out of concern for him that she had spoken those words, but because she was contemplating love for another man instead of him and longed to be alone, without him. Then Geraint’s mind became disturbed, and he called on one of his squires who came to him.

  ‘See to it’, he said, ‘that my horse and armour are prepared quickly, and that they are ready. And get up,’ he said to Enid, ‘and get dressed, and see to it that your horse is prepared, and bring with you the worst dress that you own, to go riding. And shame on me,’ he said, ‘if you return until you find out whether I have lost my strength as completely as you claim, and further, if it will be as easy for you as you hoped to seek a meeting alone with the one you were thinking of.’ Then she got up and put on a simple dress.

  ‘I do not know what you are thinking, lord,’ she said.

  ‘You shall not know for now,’ he said. Then Geraint went to visit Erbin.

  ‘Lord,’ he said, ‘I’m going on a quest, and I don’t know when I shall return. Look after your kingdom, sir, until I come back.’

  ‘I will,’ said Erbin, ‘but I am surprised that you are leaving so suddenly. And who is going with you, since you are not a man to travel the land of England alone?’

  ‘No one is coming with me save one other person.’

  ‘Now may God guide you, son,’ said Erbin, ‘and many a man has a score to settle with you in England.’

  Geraint came to where his horse was, and his horse was fully equipped with foreign, heavy, shining armour. He ordered Enid to get up on her horse and ride ahead and keep a good lead, ‘and whatever you see or hear about me,’ he said, ‘do not turn back. And unless I speak to you, do not utter a single word.’

  They went on their way, and it was not the most pleasant and most frequented road that he chose to travel, but the wildest road and the one most likely to have thieves and robbers and venomous beasts on it. They came to the highroad and followed it, and they could see a great forest ahead of them, and they went towards the forest. And they could see four armed knights coming out of the forest. The knights looked at them and one of the knights said, ‘This is a good place for us to take the two horses over there and the armour and the woman too,’ he said. ‘And we will get those easily as far as that solitary, downcast, melancholy, listless knight is concerned.’

  Enid heard their conversation. And she did not know what she should do for fear of Geraint, whether she should mention it or keep quiet.

  ‘God’s vengeance on me,’ she said, ‘I would prefer to die at Geraint’s hands than anyone else’s, and although he may kill me, I will tell him for fear of seeing him die in a hideous way.’ She waited for Geraint until he was close to her.

  ‘Lord,’ she said, ‘can you hear what those men are saying about you?’ He raised his face and looked at her angrily.

  ‘You had only to obey the order you were given, which was to keep quiet. Your concern is nothing to me, neither is your warning. And though you wish to see me killed and destroyed by those men over there, I am not at all afraid.’

  With that, their leader couched his lance and charged at Geraint, and he received him, but not like a weakling. He let the thrust go past, and attacked the knight in the centre of his shield so that his shield splits and the armour breaks and the shaft goes a good forearm’s length into him and he is thrown the length of Geraint’s lance over his horse’s crupper to the ground. The second knight attacked him angrily for having killed his companion. With one blow Geraint overthrew him and killed him like the other. And the third attacked him and likewise did he kill him. And likewise, too, did he kill the fourth. The maiden was sad and sorrowful* to see that. Geraint dismounted and stripped the armour from the dead men and placed it on their saddles. He tied the horses together by their bridles, and mounted his horse.

  ‘Do you see what you must do?’ he said. ‘Take the four horses and drive them in front of you, and travel on ahead as I ordered you earlier. And do not utter a single word to me until I speak to you. By my confession to God,’ he said, ‘if you will not do that, you shall not go unpunished.’

  ‘I will do my best, lord, to obey you,’ she said.

  They travelled on to a forest. And they left the forest and came to a great plain. In the middle of the plain there was a bushy-topped, tangled thicket, and from that they could see three knights coming towards them, fully equipped with horses, and wearing full-length armour, as did their horses. The maiden watched them closely. When they came nearer, she could hear their conversation: ‘This is a lucky windfall for us,’ they said, ‘four horses and four suits of armour with no effort at all. And as far as that drooping, dejected knight over there is concerned we shall get them cheaply, and the maiden, too, will be ours.’

  ‘That is true,’ Enid said; ‘the man is worn out from fighting with the men just now. God’s vengeance on me unless I warn him,’ she said. The maiden waited for Geraint until he was close to her.

  ‘Lord,’ she said, ‘can’t you hear what the men over there are saying about you?’

  ‘What is that?’ he said.

  ‘They are saying amongst themselves that they will get this booty cheaply.’

  ‘Between me and God,’ he said, ‘more tiresome to me than the men’s words is the fact that you will not keep quiet for me, nor do as I tell you.’

  ‘Lord,’ she said, ‘I did it to prevent your being taken by surprise.’

  ‘Be quiet from now on, your concern is nothing to me.’

  With that, one of the knights couched his lance and set upon Geraint and attacked him effectively, so he thought. But Geraint received the blow nonchalantly and deflected it, and attacked him and thrust at his middle, and what with the impact of man and horse, his armour was of no use at all, so that the head of the lance and part of the shaft came out through him and he, too, was thrown the length of his arm and his shaft over his horse’s crupper to the ground. The other two knights came in their turn, and their attack was no better than the other. The maiden, standing and looking at that, was on the one hand anxious, for she supposed Geraint would be wounded as he fought with the men, but on the other hand she was joyful to see him triumph. Then Geraint dismounted and stripped the suits of armour from the dead men and placed them on their saddles and tied the horses together by their bridles, so that he then had seven horses in all. And he mounted his own horse, and ordered the maiden to drive the horses, ‘and it is no use my telling you to be quiet,’ he said, ‘because you will not obey me.’

  ‘I will, lord, as far as I can,’ she said, ‘except that I cannot hide from you the horrible hateful words that I hear about you, lord, from bands of strangers that travel the wilderness, such as those.’

  ‘Between me and God,’ he said, ‘your concern is nothing to me. And from now on be quiet.’

  ‘I will, lord, as far as I can.’ The maiden rode on and the horses in front of her, and she kept her distance.

  From the thicket which was mentioned above just now, they crossed open land, lofty and fair, level and pleasant and prominent. Some distance from them they could see a forest, and apart from seeing the edge closest to them, they could see after that neither border nor boundary to the forest. And they approached it. Coming from the forest they could see five knights, eager and valiant, courageous and powerful, on chargers sturdy and stocky, big-boned, ground-devouring, wide-nostrilled and mettlesome, and plenty of armour on the men and the horses. When they had got closer, Enid could hear the knights’ conversation: ‘This is a lucky windfall for us, cheaply and with no effort,’ they said; ‘all these horses and suits of armour will be ours, and the woman too, as far as that solitary, spiritless, sluggish, sorrowful knight over there is concerned.’

  The maiden was very worried at hearing the men’s words, so that she did not know what in the world to do. But in the end she decided to warn Geraint. And she turned her horse’s head in his direct
ion.

  ‘Lord,’ she said, ‘if you had heard the conversation of those knights over there, as I have, you would be more worried than you are.’

  Geraint gave an angry, sarcastic, horrible, hateful laugh and said, ‘I hear you going against everything I told you not to do,’ he said, ‘but you may yet live to regret it.’

  Then, behold, her husband attacked them, and Geraint, triumphant and jubilant, overcame all five men. And he placed the five suits of armour on the five saddles and tied the twelve horses together by their bridles. And he entrusted them to Enid.

  ‘And I do not know what is the good of giving you orders,’ he said, ‘but this once, as a warning to you, I will do so.’ The maiden went on her way to the forest, and kept her distance as Geraint had ordered her. And had it not been for his anger, he would have felt sad to see such an excellent maiden having such trouble with the horses.

  They made for the forest, and deep was the forest and vast. And night came upon them in the forest.

  ‘Maiden,’ he said, ‘there is no point in us trying to continue.’

  ‘I agree, lord,’ she said. ‘We will do whatever you want.’

  ‘It is best for us to turn off into the forest to rest and wait for daylight before we proceed,’ he said.

  ‘Very well, let us do that,’ she said. And that is what they did. He dismounted and lifted her to the ground.

  ‘I am so tired that I cannot help falling asleep. And you watch over the horses, and don’t go to sleep.’

  ‘I will, lord,’ she said. And he slept in his armour, and passed the night away; and in that season the night was not long.

  When she saw the dawn of day showing its light, she looked round to see whether he was awake. And at that moment he was waking up.

  ‘Lord,’ she said, ‘I should have liked to wake you some time ago.’ He said nothing to her, annoyed because he had not asked her to speak. He got up and said to her, ‘Take the horses,’ he said, ‘and go on your way, and keep your distance as you did yesterday.’