Twrch Trwyth then passed between Tawy and Ewias. Arthur summoned Cornwall and Devon to meet him at Aber Hafren,* and Arthur said to the men of this Island, ‘Twrch Trwyth has killed many of my men. By the might of men, he will not go to Cornwall while I am alive. I shall pursue him no more but will engage him in mortal combat. You do what you will.’
This is what happened on his advice: they sent an army of horsemen, and the hounds of the Island with them, as far as Ewias, and they returned from there to the Hafren, and ambushed him with every experienced soldier in this Island, and drove him by sheer force into the Hafren. And Mabon son of Modron went with him on Gwyn Myngddwn, Gweddw’s steed, into the Hafren, and Gorau son of Custennin and Menw son of Teirgwaedd, between Llyn Lliwan and Aber Gwy.* And Arthur fell upon Twrch Trwyth, together with the warriors of Prydain. Osla Gyllellfawr approached, and Manawydan son of Llŷr, and Cacamwri, Arthur’s servant, and Gwyngelli, and closed in on him. And they grabbed him first by his feet, and soused him in the Hafren until it flooded over him. Mabon son of Modron spurred his horse on the one side and grabbed the razor from him, and on the other side Cyledyr Wyllt rushed into the Hafren on another horse and snatched the shears from him. Before they could remove the comb he found his feet, and firm ground, and from the moment he found dry land neither hound nor man nor steed could keep up with him until he reached Cornwall. Whatever trouble was had getting those treasures from him, worse was had trying to save the two men from drowning. As Cacamwri was pulled up, two millstones pulled him back into the depths. As he was running after the boar, Osla Gyllellfawr’s knife fell from its sheath and he lost it, and after that his sheath was full of water; as he was pulled up, it pulled him back into the depths.
From there Arthur went with his men until he caught up with Twrch Trwyth in Cornwall. Whatever trouble he had caused them before was mere play compared to what they then suffered in seeking the comb. But after one difficulty and another, the comb was taken from him. And then he was chased out of Cornwall and driven straight into the sea. From then on it was not known where he and Aned and Aethlem went. From there Arthur went to Celli Wig in Cornwall, to bathe himself and throw off his weariness.
Arthur said, ‘Are there any of the wonders we have still not obtained?’
One of the men said, ‘Yes, the blood of the Very Black Witch, daughter of the Very White Witch from Pennant Gofid in the uplands of hell.’
Arthur set out for the North, and came to where the hag’s cave was. And Gwyn son of Nudd and Gwythyr son of Greidol advised that Cacamwri and Hygwydd his brother should be sent to fight the hag. As they came into the cave the hag attacked them, and grabbed Hygwydd by his hair and threw him to the ground beneath her. Cacamwri grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off Hygwydd to the ground, and she turned on Cacamwri and thrashed both of them and disarmed them, and sent them out shrieking and shouting. Arthur became angry at seeing his two servants almost killed, and tried to rush at the cave. And then Gwyn and Gwythyr said to him, ‘It is not proper and we do not like to see you wrestling with a hag. Let Hir Amren and Hir Eiddil go into the cave.’ And they went. But if the first two had difficulties, the fate of these two was far worse, so that God knows how any of the four could have left the place, had it not been for the way they were all put on Llamrei, Arthur’s mare. And then Arthur rushed to the entrance of the cave, and from the entrance he aimed at the hag with Carnwennan, his knife, and struck her in the middle so she was like two vats. And Caw of Prydyn took the witch’s blood and kept it with him.
And then Culhwch set out with Gorau son of Custennin, and those who wished harm to Ysbaddaden Bencawr, and took the wonders with them to his court. And Caw of Prydyn came to shave off Ysbaddaden’s beard, flesh and skin to the bone, and both ears completely.
And Culhwch said, ‘Have you been shaved, man?’
‘I have,’ he replied.
‘And is your daughter now mine?’
‘Yours,’ he replied. ‘And you need not thank me for that, but thank Arthur, the man who arranged it for you. If I’d had my way you never would have got her. And it is high time to take away my life.’
And then Gorau son of Custennin grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to the mound and cut off his head and stuck it on the bailey post. And he took possession of his fort and his territory.
And that night Culhwch slept with Olwen. And she was his only wife as long as he lived. And Arthur’s men dispersed, each one to his country. And that is how Culhwch won Olwen daughter of Ysbaddaden Bencawr.
Rhonabwy’s Dream
MADOG son of Maredudd ruled Powys from one end to the other, that is, from Porffordd to Gwafan in the uplands of Arwystli.* At that time he had a brother whose rank was not equal to his. His name was Iorwerth son of Maredudd.* And Iorwerth became greatly concerned and saddened to see the honour and power possessed by his brother, and he with nothing. So he sought out his companions and foster-brothers, and consulted with them as to what he should do about it. They decided that some of them should go and ask Madog for maintenance. Madog offered him the position of the head of the retinue,* and equal standing with himself, and horses and armour and honour. But Iorwerth refused that, and went raiding in England, and he committed murder, and burned houses and took prisoners. Madog took counsel, together with the men of Powys. They decided to place a hundred men in every three commots in Powys to look for Iorwerth. And they regarded Rhychdir Powys, from Aber Ceiriog in Halictwn as far as Rhyd Wilfre on Efyrnwy,* as equal to the three best commots in Powys. And anyone who did not succeed with a retinue in this arable land would not succeed anywhere in Powys. And those men split up as far as Didlystwn,* a small town in this arable land.
There was a man on that quest whose name was Rhonabwy. He and Cynwrig Frychgoch, a man from Mawddwy, and Cadwgan Fras, a man from Moelfre in Cynllaith, came to the house of Heilyn Goch son of Cadwgan son of Iddon* for lodging. And when they approached the house, they could see a very black old building with a straight gable end, and plenty of smoke coming from it. When they came inside they could see an uneven floor, full of holes; where there was a bump in the floor, scarcely could a man stand up, so slippery was the floor with the dung of cattle and their piss. Where there was a hole, a man would go over his ankle, what with the mixture of water and cattle-piss. And there were branches of holly in abundance on the floor, with their tips eaten by the cattle. When they came to the upper end of the hall they could see bare, dusty, dais boards, and a hag feeding a fire on one dais.* And when she became cold, she would throw a lapful of chaff on the fire so that it was not easy for anyone in the world to put up with that smoke entering his nostrils. On the other dais they could see a yellow ox-skin;* good luck would befall whichever one of them got to lie on that skin.
When they had sat down they asked the hag where the people of the house were, but she would only speak gruffly to them. Suddenly the people arrive, a red-haired, balding, wizened man, with a bundle of sticks on his back, and a little skinny, grey-haired woman, with a bundle under her arm too. And they gave the men a cold welcome. The woman lit a fire for them with the sticks and went to cook, and brought them their food—barley bread and cheese, and watered-down milk. Suddenly there was a surge of wind and rain, so that it was not easy for anyone to go out and relieve himself. And because their journey had been so troublesome, they grew weary and went to sleep. When they examined their sleeping-place there was on it only dusty, flea-infested straw-ends, mixed with bits of twig, the cattle having devoured all the straw that was above their heads and below their feet. A greyish-red blanket, rough and threadbare and full of holes, was spread on it, and over the blanket a coarse, tattered sheet with big holes, and a half-empty pillow with a filthy cover on top of the sheet. And they went to sleep. Rhonabwy’s two companions fell into a deep sleep, after the fleas and discomfort had tormented them. But Rhonabwy, since he could neither sleep nor rest, thought he would suffer less if he went to sleep on the yellow ox-skin on the dais. And there he slept.
As soon as sleep entered his eyes he was granted a vision, that he and his companions were travelling across Maes Argyngroeg, and his inclination and intent, so he thought, was towards Rhyd-y-groes on the Hafren.* As he was travelling he heard a commotion, and he had never heard a commotion like it. He looked behind him, and saw a young man with curly yellow hair and his beard newly trimmed, on a yellow horse, and from the top of its forelegs and its kneecaps downwards green. And the rider was wearing a tunic of yellow brocaded silk, embroidered with green thread, a gold-hilted sword on his thigh, with a sheath of new Cordovan leather, and a thong of deerskin with a clasp of gold. And over that a mantle of yellow brocaded silk, embroidered with green silk, and the fringes of the mantle were green. What was green of the garment of the rider and horse was as green as the leaves of the pine-trees, and what was yellow was as yellow as the flowers of the broom.* Because the rider looked so fierce, Rhonabwy and his companions became frightened and began to retreat. But he pursued them. As the horse breathed out, the men moved a distance away from him; but as he breathed in, they came closer to him, right to the horse’s chest. When he caught up with them, they asked him for mercy.
‘You shall have it, gladly, and don’t be afraid.’
‘Lord, since you have shown us mercy, will you tell us who you are?’ said Rhonabwy.
‘I will not conceal my identity from you: Iddog son of Mynio. But usually I am not known by my name, but by my nickname.’
‘Will you tell us your nickname?’
‘I will. I am called Iddog Cordd Prydain.’*
‘Lord,’ said Rhonabwy, ‘why are you called that?’
‘I will tell you why. I was one of the messengers between Arthur and his nephew Medrawd at the battle of Camlan. And at that time I was a high-spirited young man, and because I was so eager for battle, I stirred up trouble between them. This is what I did: whenever the emperor Arthur would send me to remind Medrawd that he was his foster-father and uncle, and to ask for peace lest the sons of the kings of the Island of Britain and their men be killed, and when Arthur would speak to me the fairest words that he could, I would repeat those words to Medrawd in the most offensive way possible. Because of that I was called Iddog Cordd Prydain. And that is how the battle of Camlan was contrived. But three nights before the end of the battle of Camlan I left them, and came to Y Llech Las in Prydain* to do penance. And I was there for seven years doing penance, and I was shown mercy.’
Then they heard a commotion that was louder by far than the first one. When they looked towards the commotion, behold, a young lad with yellowish-red hair, without a beard or a moustache, and the look of a nobleman about him, on a large horse. From the top of its shoulders and its kneecaps downwards, the horse was yellow. The man was wearing a garment of red brocaded silk, embroidered with yellow silk, and the fringes of the mantle were yellow. What was yellow of his and his horse’s garment was as yellow as the flowers of the broom, and what was red was as red as the reddest blood in the world. Then, behold, the rider catches up with them, and asks Iddog if he would give him a share of these little men.
‘The share that is proper for me to give, I will do so: to be a friend to them as I have been.’ The rider agreed to that and went off.
‘Iddog,’ said Rhonabwy, ‘who was that man?’
‘Rhuawn Bebyr son of Deorthach Wledig.’*
Then they travelled across the great plain of Argyngroeg to Rhydy-groes on the Hafren. And a mile from the ford, on each side of the road, they could see huts and tents and the mustering of a great host. They came to the edge of the ford, and saw Arthur sitting on a flat meadow below the ford, with Bedwin the Bishop on one side and Gwarthegydd son of Caw* on the other. A tall, auburn-haired young man was standing beside them, holding his sword in its sheath, and wearing a tunic and cape of pure black brocaded silk, his face as white as ivory, and his eyebrows as black as jet. What could be seen of his wrist between his gloves and sleeves was whiter than the lily, and thicker than the calf of a warrior’s leg. Then Iddog, accompanied by the men, went up to Arthur, and greeted him.
‘May God prosper you,’ said Arthur. ‘Iddog, where did you find these little men?’
‘I found them, lord, up there on the road.’ The emperor smiled disdainfully.
‘Lord,’ said Iddog, ‘why are you laughing?’
‘Iddog,’ said Arthur, ‘I am not laughing; but rather I feel so sad that scum such as these are protecting this Island after such fine men that protected it in the past.’
Then Iddog said, ‘Rhonabwy, do you see the ring with the stone in it on the emperor’s hand?’
‘I do,’ he said.
‘One of the virtues of the stone is that you will remember what you have seen here tonight; and had you not seen the stone, you would remember nothing about this.’
After that Rhonabwy saw a troop coming towards the ford.
‘Iddog,’ said Rhonabwy, ‘whose is that troop?’
‘The companions of Rhuawn Bebyr son of Deorthach Wledig. And those men receive mead and bragget with honour, and get to make love to the daughters of the kings of the Island of Britain with no objection, and they have a right to that, for in each battle they lead and bring up the rear.’
Rhonabwy could see no other colour on a horse or a man in that troop that was not as red as blood. And if one of the riders broke away from that troop, he would be like a column of fire rising to the sky. And that troop encamped above the ford.
Then they saw another troop coming towards the ford. And from the horses’ front pommels upwards they were as white as the lily, and from there downwards as black as jet. Behold, they saw a rider coming forward and spurring his horse in the ford so that the water splashed over Arthur and the bishop and all who were conferring with them, so that they were as wet as if they had been dragged out of the river. As the rider was turning his horse’s head, the lad who was standing beside Arthur struck the horse on its nostrils with the sword in its sheath, so that it would have been a wonder had it not shattered steel, let alone flesh or bone. The rider drew his sword half out of his sheath, and asked him, ‘Why did you strike my horse? Was it out of disrespect or by way of advice?’
‘You needed advice. What madness made you ride so foolishly, causing the water to splash from the ford over Arthur and the consecrated bishop and their counsellors, so that they were as wet as if they had been dragged out of the river?’
‘Then I shall take it as advice.’ And he turned his horse’s head back towards his troop.
‘Iddog,’ said Rhonabwy, ‘who was the rider just now?’
‘A young man considered to be the wisest and most accomplished in this kingdom, Addaon son of Taliesin.’
‘Who was the man who struck his horse?’
‘A stubborn and fierce lad, Elphin son of Gwyddno.’*
Then a proud, handsome man with eloquent, bold speech said that it was strange that a host as large as that could be accommodated in such a confined place, and that it was even stranger that those who had promised to be at the battle of Baddon by noon, to fight Osla Gyllellfawr,* should still be there: ‘Decide whether you will go or not. I shall go.’
‘You are right,’ said Arthur. ‘And let us go together.’
‘Iddog,’ said Rhonabwy, ‘who is the man who spoke so boldly to Arthur as he who spoke just now?’
‘A man who had the right to speak to him as plainly as he wished, Caradog Freichfras son of Llŷr Marini,* his chief adviser and nephew.’
Then Iddog took Rhonabwy behind him on the horse, and that large host set off towards Cefn Digoll,* each troop in its proper place. When they were halfway across the ford on the Hafren, Iddog turned his horse’s head round, and Rhonabwy looked at the Hafren valley. He could see two most disciplined troops approaching the ford on the Hafren. A brilliant white troop was approaching, each man wearing a mantle of white brocaded silk with pure black fringes, and from the kneecaps and the tops of the horses’ forelegs downwards they were pure black, but apart from that they were
pale white all over. And their banners were pure white, and the tip of each one was pure black.
‘Iddog,’ said Rhonabwy, ‘who is that pure white troop over there?’
‘They are the men of Norway, led by March son of Meirchawn.* He is Arthur’s cousin.’
Then Rhonabwy could see a troop, and each man wearing a pure black garment with pure white fringes, and from the tops of the horses’ forelegs and their kneecaps downwards, they were pure white. And their banners were pure black and the tip of each one was pure white.
‘Iddog,’ said Rhonabwy, ‘who is that pure black troop over there?’
‘The men of Denmark, led by Edern son of Nudd.’*
By the time these had caught up with the host, Arthur and his host of warriors had dismounted below Caer Faddon. Rhonabwy could see that he and Iddog were going the same way as Arthur. When they had dismounted he heard a huge, dreadful commotion among the host. And the man who would be at the edge of the host one moment would be in their midst the next, and the one who would be in their midst would be at the edge. Suddenly he could see a rider approaching, both he and his horse dressed in chain-mail, its rings as white as the whitest lily, and its rivets as red as the reddest blood, and he was riding among the host.
‘Iddog,’ said Rhonabwy, ‘is the host retreating from me?’
‘The emperor Arthur has never retreated, and if you were heard uttering those words, you would be a dead man. But the rider you see over there, that’s Cai;* he is the fairest man who rides in Arthur’s court. And the man at the edge of the host is rushing back to see Cai ride, and the man in the middle is retreating to the edge for fear of being hurt by the horse. And that’s the meaning of the commotion in the host.’
Then they heard Cadwr, earl of Cornwall,* being summoned. Behold, he got up with Arthur’s sword in his hand and the image of two golden serpents on the sword. When the sword was drawn from the sheath, it was like seeing two flames of fire from the serpents’ jaws. And it was not easy for anyone to look at that, because it was so terrifying. Then, behold, the host calmed down and the commotion ceased; and the earl returned to the tent.
The Mabinogion (Oxford World's Classics) Page 30