Manawyddan the prince and his friend Pryderi were wanderers, for the brother of Manawyddan had been , and his throne taken from him. Very sorrowful was Manawyddan, but Pryderi was of heart, and bade him be of good cheer, as he knew a way out of his trouble.  
‘And what may that be?’ asked Manawyddan.
 
‘It is that thou marry my mother Rhiannon and become lord of the fair lands that I will give her for dowry. Never did any lady have more wit than she, and in her youth none was more lovely; even yet she is good to look upon.’
 
‘Thou art the best friend that ever a man had,’ said Manawyddan. ‘Let us go now to seek Rhiannon, and the lands where she dwells.’
 
Then they set , but the news of their coming ran swifter still, and Rhiannon and Kieva, wife of Pryderi, made haste to prepare a feast for them. And Manawyddan found that Pryderi had spoken the truth concerning his mother, and asked if she would take him for her husband. Right gladly did she consent, and without delay they were married, and rode away to the hunt, Rhiannon and Manawyddan, Kieva and Pryderi, and they would not be parted from each other by night or by day, so great was the love between them.
 
One day, when they were returned, they were sitting out in a green place, and suddenly the crash of thunder struck loudly on their ears, and a wall of mist fell between them, so that they were hidden one from the other. Trembling they sat till the darkness fled and the light shone again upon them, but in the place where they were to see cattle, and , and , they neither house nor beast, nor man nor smoke; neither was any one remaining in the green place save these four only.
 
‘Whither have they gone, and my host also?’ cried Manawyddan, and they searched the hall, and there was no man, and the castle, and there was none, and in the dwellings that were left was nothing save wild beasts. For a year these four fed on the meat that Manawyddan and Pryderi killed out hunting, and the honey of the bees that sucked the mountain heather. For a time they desired nothing more, but when the next year began they grew weary.
 
‘We cannot spend our lives thus,’ said Manawyddan at last, ‘let us go into England and learn some trade by which we may live.’ So they left Wales, and went to Hereford, and there they made saddles, while Manawyddan fashioned blue to put on their trappings. And so greatly did the townsfolk love these saddles, that no others were bought throughout the whole of Hereford, till the saddlers banded together and resolved to Manawyddan and his companions.
 
When Pryderi heard of it, he was very wroth, and wished to stay and fight. But the counsels of Manawyddan prevailed, and they moved by night to another city.
 
‘What craft shall we follow?’ asked Pryderi.
 
‘We will make shields,’ answered Manawyddan.
 
‘But do we know anything of that craft?’ answered Pryderi.
 
‘We will try it,’ said Manawyddan, and they began to make shields, and fashioned them after the shape of the shields they had seen; and these likewise they enamelled. And so greatly did they that no man in the town bought a shield except they had made it, till at length the shield-makers banded together as the saddlers had done, and resolved to slay them. But of this they had warning, and by night betook themselves to another town.
 
‘Let us take to making shoes,’ said Manawyddan, ‘for there are not any among the shoemakers bold enough to fight us.’
 
‘I know nothing of making shoes,’ answered Pryderi, who in truth despised so peaceful a craft.
 
‘But I know,’ replied Manawyddan, ‘and I will teach thee to stitch. We will buy the leather ready dressed, and will make the shoes from it.
 
Then straightway he sought the town for the best leather, and for a goldsmith to fashion the clasps, and he himself watched till it was done, so that he might learn for himself. Soon he became known as ‘The of Gold Shoes,’ and so greatly, that as long as one could be bought from him not a shoe was purchased from the shoemakers of the town. And the were wroth, and banded together to slay them.
 
‘Pryderi,’ said Manawyddan, when he had received news of it, ‘we will not remain in England any longer. Let us set forth to Dyved.’
 
So they journeyed until they came to their lands at Narberth. There they gathered their dogs round them, and hunted for a year as before.
 
After that a strange thing happened. One morning Pryderi and Manawyddan rose up to hunt, and loosened their dogs, which ran before them, till they came to a small bush. At the bush, the dogs shrank away as if frightened, and returned to their masters, their hair brisling on their backs.
 
‘We must see what is in that bush,’ said Pryderi, and what was in it was a boar, with a skin as white as the snow on the mountains. And he came out, and made a stand as the dogs rushed on him, driven on by the men. Long he stood at bay; then at last he betook himself to flight, and fled to a castle which was newly built, in a place where no building had ever been known. Into the castle he ran, and the dogs after him, and long though their masters looked and listened, they neither saw nor heard aught concerning dogs or boar.
 
‘I will go into the castle and get tidings of the dogs,’ said Pryderi at last.
 
‘Truly,’ answered Manawyddan, ‘thou wouldst do unwisely, for whosoever has cast a spell over this land has set this castle here.’
 
‘I cannot give up my dogs,’ replied Pryderi, and to the castle he went.
 
But within was neither man nor beast; neither boar nor dogs, but only a fountain with marble round it, and on the edge a golden bowl, richly , which pleased Pryderi greatly. In a moment he forgot about his dogs, and went up to the bowl and took hold of it, and his hands stuck to the bowl, and his feet to the marble , and despair took possession of him.
 
Till the close of day Manawyddan waited for him, and when the sun was fast sinking, he went home, thinking that he had strayed far.
 
‘Where are thy friend and thy dogs?’ said Rhiannon, and he told her what had befallen Pryderi.
 
‘A good friend hast thou lost,’ answered Rhiannon, and she went up to the castle and through the gate, which was open. There, in the centre of the courtyard, she beheld Pryderi , and hastened towards him.
 
‘What dost thou here?’ she asked, laying her hand on the bowl, and as she she too stuck fast, and was not able to utter a word. Then thunder was heard and a veil of darkness upon them, and the castle vanished and they with it.
 
When Kieva, the wife of Pryderi, found that neither her husband nor his mother returned to her, she was in such sorrow that she cared not whether she lived or died. Manawyddan was grieved also in his heart, and said to her:
 
‘It is not fitting that we should stay here, for he have lost our dogs and cannot get food. Let us go into England—it is easier for us to live there.’ So they set forth.
 
‘What craft thou follow?’ asked Kieva as they went along.
 
‘I shall make shoes as once I did,’ replied he; and he got all the finest leather in the town and caused clasps to be made for the shoes, till everyone flocked to buy, and all the shoemakers in the town were idle and banded together in anger to kill him. But luckily Manawyddan got word of it, and he and Kieva left the town one night and proceeded to Narberth, taking with him a sheaf of wheat, which he sowed in three plots of ground. And while the wheat was growing up, he hunted and fished, and they had food enough and to spare. Thus the months passed until the harvest; and one evening Manawyddan visited the furthest of his fields of wheat; and saw that it was ripe.
 
‘To-morrow I will reap this,’ said he; but on the morrow when he went to reap the wheat he found nothing but the bare straw.
 
Filled with dismay he hastened to the second field, and there the corn was ripe and golden.
 
‘To-morrow I will reap this,’ he said, but on the morrow the ears had gone, and there was nothing but the bare straw.
 
‘Well, there is still one field left,’ he said, and when he looked at it, it was still fairer than the other two. ‘To-night I will watch here,’ thought he, ‘for whosoever carried off the other corn will in like manner take this, and I will know who it is.’ So he hid himself and waited.
 
The hours slid by, and all was still, so still that Manawyddan well-nigh dropped asleep. But at midnight there arose the loudest ............