The heroes {100h} marched to Cattraeth with the dawn, But none of them received protection from their shields, To blood they resorted, being assembled in gleaming armour; {101a} In the van was, loud as thunder, the din of targets. {101b} The envious, the fickle, and the base, Would he tear and pierce with halberts; From an elevated position {101c} he slew, with a blade, In iron affliction, {101d} their steel-clad commander; {101e} He subdued the Mordei that owed him homage; {101f} Before Erthai {102a} even an army groaned. {102b} XV. When the tale shall be told of the battle of Cattraeth, The people will utter sighs; {102c} long has been their grief on account of the warriors’ absence; There will be a dominion without a sovereign, {102d} and a smoking land. The sons of Godebog, an upright clan, Bore the furrower {102e} on a long bier. Miserable {103a} was the fate, though just the necessity, Decreed for Tudvwlch and Cyvwlch the Tall; {103b} Together they drank the bright mead by the light {103c} of torches, {103d} Though pleasant to the taste, it proved a lasting foe. {103e} XVI. Before, above the splendid fort of Eching {103f} he shewed a frowning aspect; {103g} Whilst young and forward men composed his retinue; Before, on the Bludwe, {104a} would the horn cheer his heart, {104b} Making all the Mordei full of joy; {104c} Before, his beverage would be braggett; Before, he displayed the grandeur of gold and rich purple; Before, pampered steeds would bear him safe away, Even Gwarthlev, who deserved a comely name; {104d} Before, the victorious chief would turn aside the ebbing tide; His command was ever to go forward, {105a} loth was he to skulk. XVII. And now the early leader, The sun, is about to ascend, Sovereign of the revolving {105b} lights, {105c} In the heaven of Britain’s isle. {105d} Direful was the flight before the shaking Of the shield of the pursuing victor; {105e} Bright {105f} was the horn In the hall of Eiddin; {105g} With pomp was he bidden {105h} To the feast of intoxicating mead; He drank the beverage of wine, At the meeting of reapers; {106a} He drank transparent wine, With a battle-daring purpose. {106b} The reapers sang of war, War with the shining wing; {106c} The minstrels sang of war, Of harnessed {106d} war, Of winged war. No shield was unexpanded {107a} In the conflict of spears; Of equal age they fell {107b} In the struggle of battle. Unshaken in the tumult, Without dishonour {107c} did he retaliate on the foe; Buried {107d} was whoever he willed, Ere the grave of the gigantic {107e} Gwrveling Itself became a green sward. XVIII.