The heroes marched to Cattraeth, filled with mead and drunk, Compact and vigorous; {94a} I should wrong them were I to neglect their fame; Around the mighty, red, and murky blades, Obstinately and fiercely the dogs of war {94b} would fight; If I had judged you to be of the tribe of Bryneich, {94c} Not the phantom of a man would I have left alive. {94d} I lost a friend, myself being unhurt, As he openly withstood the terror of the parental chief; Magnanimously did he refuse the dowry of his father-in-law; {94e} Such was the son of Cian {95a} from the stone of Gwyngwn. X. The heroes marched to Cattraeth with the dawn; Their peace was disturbed by those who feared them; A hundred thousand with three hundred {95b} engaged in mutual overthrow; Drenched in gore, they marked the fall of the lances; {96a} The post of war {96b} was most manfully and with gallantry maintained, Before the retinue of Mynyddawg the Courteous. {96c} XI. The heroes marched to Cattraeth with the dawn; Feelingly did their relatives {96d} regret their absence; Mead they drank, yellow, sweet, ensnaring; That year is the point to which many {96e} a minstrel turns; Redder were their swords than their plumes, {97a} Their blades were white as lime, {97b} and into four parts were their helmets cloven, {97c} Even those of {97d} the retinue of Mynyddawg the Courteous. XII. The heroes marched to Cattraeth with the day; Was not the most celebrated of battles disgraced? {97e} They put to death {98a} Gelorwydd With blades. The gem of Baptism {98b}was thus widely taunted;— “Better that you should, ere you join your kindred, Have a gory unction {98c} and death far from your native homes, At the hand of the host of Gododin, when the day arrives.” Is not a hero’s power best when tempered with discretion? XIII. The hero {98d} marched to Cattraeth with the day; Truly {99a} he quaffed the white mead on serene nights; {99b} Miserable, though success had been predicted, {99c} Proved his mission, which he undertook through soaring ambition; {99d} There hastened not to Cattraeth A chief, with such a magnificent design of enterprize Blazoned on his standard; Never was there such a host From the fort of Eiddin, {99e} That would scatter abroad the mounted ravagers. Tudvwlch Hir, {100a} deprived of {100b} his land and towns, Slaughtered the Saxons for seven days; {100c} His valour should have protected him in freedom; {100d} His memory is cherished by his fair {100e} associates; When Tudvwlch arrived, the supporter of the land, {100f} The post of the son of Kilydd {100g} became a plain of blood. XIV.