HERE IS THE THIRD PORTION OF THE MABINOGI

When the seven men of whom we spoke above had buried the head of Bendigeid Vran, in the White Mount an London, with its face towards France; Manawyddan gazed upon the town of London, and upon his companions, and heaved a great sigh; and much grief and heaviness came upon him.  “Alas, Almighty Heaven, woe is me,” he exclaimed, “there is none save myself without a resting-place this night.”  “Lord,” said Pryderi, “be not so sorrowful.  Thy cousin is king of the Island of the Mighty, and though he should do thee wrong, thou hast never been a claimant of land or possessions.  Thou art the third disinherited prince.”  “Yea,” answered he, “but although this man is my cousin, it grieveth me to see any one in the place of my brother Bendigeid Vran, neither can I be happy in the same dwelling with him.”  “Wilt thou follow the counsel of another?” said Pryderi.  “I stand in need of counsel,” he answered, “and what may that counsel be?”  “Seven Cantrevs remain unto me,” said Pryderi, “wherein Rhiannon my mother dwells.  I will bestow her upon thee and the seven Cantrevs with her, and though thou hadst no possessions but those Cantrevs only, thou couldst not have seven Cantrevs fairer than they.  Kicva, the daughter of Gwynn Gloyw, is my wife, and since the inheritance of the Cantrevs belongs to me, do thou and Rhiannon enjoy them, and if thou ever desire any possessions thou wilt take these.”  “I do not, Chieftain,” said he; “Heaven reward thee for thy friendship.”  “I would show thee the best friendship in the world if thou wouldst let me.”  “I will, my friend,” said he, “and Heaven reward thee.  I will go with thee to seek Rhiannon and to look at thy possessions.”  “Thou wilt do well,” he answered.  “And I believe that thou didst never hear a lady discourse better than she, and when she was in her prime none was ever fairer.  Even now her aspect is not uncomely.”

They set forth, and, however long the journey, they came at length to Dyved, and a feast was prepared for them against their coming to Narberth, which Rhiannon and Kicva had provided.  Then began Manawyddan and Rhiannon to sit and to talk together, and from their discourse his mind and his thoughts became warmed towards her, and he thought in his heart he had never beheld any lady more fulfilled of grace and beauty than she.  “Pryderi,” said he, “I will that it be as thou didst say.”  “What saying was that?” asked Rhiannon.  “Lady,” said Pryderi, “I did offer thee as a wife to Manawyddan the son of Llyr.”  “By that will I gladly abide,” said Rhiannon.  “Right glad am I also,” said Manawyddan; “may Heaven reward him who hath shown unto me friendship so perfect as this.”

And before the feast was over she became his bride.  Said Pryderi, “Tarry ye here the rest of the feast, and I will go into Lloegyr to tender my homage unto Caswallawn the son of Beli.”  “Lord,” said Rhiannon, “Caswallawn is in Kent, thou mayest therefore tarry at the feast, and wait until he shall be nearer.”  “We will wait,” he answered.  So they finished the feast.  And they began to make the circuit of Dyved, and to hunt, and to take their pleasure.  And as they went through the country, they had never seen lands more pleasant to live in, nor better hunting grounds, nor greater plenty of honey and fish.  And such was the friendship between those four, that they would not be parted from each other by night nor by day.

And in the midst of all this he went to Caswallawn at Oxford, and tendered his homage; and honourable was his reception there, and highly was he praised for offering his homage.

And after his return, Pryderi and Manawyddan feasted and took their ease and pleasure.  And they began a feast at Narberth, for it was the chief palace; and there originated all honour.  And when they had ended the first meal that night, while those who served them ate, they arose and went forth, and proceeded all four to the Gorsedd of Narberth, and their retinue with them.  And as they sat thus, behold, a peal of thunder, and with the violence of the thunderstorm, lo there came a fall of mist, so thick that not one of them could see the other.  And after the mist it became light all around.  And when they looked towards the place where they were wont to see cattle, and herds, and dwellings, they saw nothing now, neither house, nor beast, nor smoke, nor fire, nor man, nor dwelling; but the houses of the Court empty, and desert, and uninhabited, without either man or beast within them.  And truly all their companions were lost to them, without their knowing aught of what had befallen them, save those four only.

“In the name of Heaven,” cried Manawyddan, “where are they of the Court, and all my host beside these?  Let us go and see.”  So they came into the hall, and there was no man; and they went on to the castle and to the sleeping-place, and they saw none; and in the mead-cellar and in the kitchen there was nought but desolation.  So they four feasted, and hunted, and took their pleasure.  Then they began to go through the land and all the possessions that they had, and they visited the houses and dwellings, and found nothing but wild beasts.  And when they had consumed their feast and all their provisions, they fed upon the prey they killed in hunting, and the honey of the wild swarms.  And thus they passed the first year pleasantly, and the second; but at the last they began to be weary.

“Verily,” said Manawyddan, “we must not bide thus.  Let us go into Lloegyr, and seek some craft whereby we may gain our support.”  So they went into Lloegyr, and came as far as Hereford.  And they betook themselves to making saddles.  And Manawyddan began to make housings, and he gilded and coloured them with blue enamel, in the manner that he had seen it done by Llasar Llaesgywydd.  And he made the blue enamel as it was made by the other man.  And therefore is it still called Calch Lasar [blue enamel], because Llasar Llaesgywydd had wrought it.

And as long as that workmanship could be had of Manawyddan, neither saddle nor housing was bought of a saddler throughout all Hereford; till at length every one of the saddlers perceived that they were losing much of their gain, and that no man bought of them, but him who could not get what he sought from Manawyddan.  Then they assembled together, and agreed to slay him and his companions.

Now they received warning of this, and took counsel whether they should leave the city.  “By Heaven,” said Pryderi, “it is not my counsel that we should quit the town, but that we should slay these boors.”  “Not so,” said Manawyddan, “for if we fight with them, we shall have evil fame, and shall be put in prison.  It were better for us to go to another town to maintain ourselves.”  So they four went to another city.

“What craft shall we take?” said Pryderi.  “We will make shields,” said Manawyddan.  “Do we know anything about that craft?” said Pryderi.  “We will try,” answered he.  There they began to make shields, and fashioned them after the shape of the good shields they had seen; and they enamelled they, as them had done the saddles.  And they prospered in that place, so that not a shield was asked for in the whole town, but such as was had of them.  Rapid therefore was their work, and numberless were the shields they made.  But at last they were marked by the craftsmen, who came together in haste, and their fellow-townsmen with them, and agreed that they should seek to slay them.  But they received warning, and heard how the men had resolved on their destruction.  “Pryderi,” said Manawyddan, “these men desire to slay us.”  “Let us not endure this from these boors, but let us rather fall upon them and slay them.”  “Not so,” he answered; “Caswallawn and his men will hear of it, and we shall be undone.  Let us go to another town.”  So to another town they went.

“What craft shall we take?” said Manawyddan.  “Whatsoever thou wilt that we know,” said Pryderi.  “Not so,” he replied, “but let us take to making shoes, for there is not courage enough among cordwainers either to fight with us or to molest us.”  “I know nothing thereof,” said Pryderi.  “But I know,” answered Manawyddan; “and I will teach thee to stitch.  We will not attempt to dress the leather, but we will buy it ready dressed and will make the shoes from it.”

So he began by buying the best cordwal that could be had in the town, and none other would he buy except the leather for the soles; and he associated himself with the best goldsmith in the town, and caused him to make clasps for the shoes, and to gild the clasps, and he marked how it was done until he learnt the method.  And therefore was he called one of the three makers of Gold Shoes; and, when they could be had from him, not a shoe nor hose was bought of any of the cordwainers in the town.  But when the cordwainers perceived that their gains were failing (for as Manawyddan shaped the work, so Pryderi stitched it), they came together and took counsel, and agreed that they would slay them.

“Pryderi,” said Manawyddan, “these men are minded to slay us.”  “Wherefore should we bear this from the boorish thieves?” said Pryderi.  “Rather let us slay them all.”  “Not so,” said Manawyddan, “we will not slay them, neither will we remain in Lloegyr any longer.  Let us set forth to Dyved and go to see it.”

So they journeyed along until they came to Dyved, and they went forward to Narberth.  And there they kindled fire and supported themselves by hunting.  And thus they spent a month.  And they gathered their dogs around them, and tarried there one year.

And one morning Pryderi and Manawyddan rose up to hunt, and they ranged their dogs and went forth from the palace.  And some of the dogs ran before them and came to a small bush which was near at hand; but as soon as they were come to the bush, they hastily drew back and returned to the men, their hair bristling up greatly.  “Let us go near to the bush,” said Pryderi, “and see what is in it.”  And as they came near, behold, a wild boar of a pure white colour rose up from the bush.  Then the dogs, being set on by the men, rushed towards him; but he left the bush and fell back a little way from the men, and made a stand against the dogs without retreating from them, until the men had come near.  And when the men came up, he fell back a second time, and betook him to flight.  Then they pursued the boar until they beheld a vast and lofty castle, all newly built, in a place where they had never before seen either stone or building.  And the boar ran swiftly into the castle and the dogs after him.  Now when the boar and the dogs had gone into the castle, they began to wonder at finding a castle in a place where they had never before seen any building whatsoever.  And from the top of the Gorsedd they looked and listened for the dogs.  But so long as they were there they heard not one of the dogs nor aught concerning them.

“Lord,” said Pryderi, “I will go into the castle to get tidings of the dogs.”  “Truly,” he replied, “thou wouldst be unwise to go into this castle, which thou hast never seen till now.  If thou wouldst follow my counsel, thou wouldst not enter therein.  Whosoever has cast a spell over this land has caused this castle to be here.”  “Of a truth,” answered Pryderi, “I cannot thus give up my dogs.”  And for all the counsel that Manawyddan gave him, yet to the castle he went.

When he came within the castle, neither man nor beast, nor boar nor dogs, nor house nor dwelling saw he within it.  But in the centre of the castle floor he beheld a fountain with marble work around it, and on the margin of the fountain a golden bowl upon a marble slab, and chains hanging from the air, to which he saw no end.

And he was greatly pleased with the beauty of the gold, and with the rich workmanship of the bowl, and he went up to the bowl and laid hold of it.  And when he had taken hold of it his hands stuck to the bowl, and his feet to the slab on which the howl was placed, and all his joyousness forsook him, so that he could not utter a word.  And thus he stood.

And Manawyddan waited for him till near the close of the day.  And late in the evening, being certain that he should have no tidings of Pryderi or of the dogs, he went back to the palace.  And as he entered, Rhiannon looked at him.  “Where,” said she, “are thy companion and thy dogs?”  “Behold,” he answered, “the adventure that has befallen me.”  And he related it all unto her.  “An evil companion hast thou been,” said Rhiannon, “and a good companion hast thou lost.”  And with that word she went out, and proceeded towards the castle according to the direction which he gave her.  The gate of the castle she found open.  She was nothing daunted, and she went in.  And as she went in, she perceived Pryderi laying hold of the bowl, and she went towards him.  “Oh, my lord,” said she, “what dust thou do here?”  And she took hold of the bowl with him; and as she did so her hands became fast to the bowl, and her feet to the slab, and she was not able to utter a word.  And with that, as it became night, lo, there came thunder upon them, and a fall of mist, and thereupon the castle vanished, and they with it.

When Kicva the daughter of Gwynn Gloyw saw that there was no one in the palace but herself and Manawyddan, she sorrowed so that she cared not whether she lived or died.  And Manawyddan saw this.  “Thou art in the wrong,” said he, “if through fear of me thou grievest thus.  I call Heaven to witness that thou hast never seen friendship mere pure than that which I will bear thee, as long as Heaven will that thou shouldst be thus.  I declare to thee that were I in the dawn of youth I would keep my faith unto Pryderi, and unto thee also will I keep it.  Be there no fear upon thee, therefore,” said he, “for Heaven is my witness that thou shalt meet with all the friendship thou canst wish, and that it is in my power to show thee, as long as it shall please Heaven to continue us in this grief and woe.”  &ldquo............