Mythology, Celtic -- Wales; Tales -- Wales; Welsh literature -- 1100-1400 -- Translations into English
And thus ends this portion of the Mabinogi, concerning the blow given to
Branwen, which was the third unhappy blow of this island; and concerning
the entertainment of Bran, when the hosts of sevenscore countries and ten
went over to Ireland to revenge the blow given to Branwen; and concerning
the seven years’ banquet in Harlech, and the singing of the birds of
Rhiannon, and the sojourning of the head for the space of fourscore
years.
MANAWYDDAN THE SON OF LLYR
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 in 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.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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