HOW MANAWYDDAN CAUGHT A THIEF
By Lady Charlotte Guest
Pwyll and Rhiannon had a son, whom they named Pryderi. And when he was
grown up, Pwyll, his father, died. And Pryderi married Kieva, the
daughter of Gwynn Gloy.
Now Manawyddan returned from the war in Ireland, and he found that his
cousin had seized all his possessions, and much grief and heaviness
came upon him. "Alas! woe is me!" he exclaimed; "there is none save
myself without a home and a resting-place." "Lord," said Pryderi, "be
not so sorrowful. Thy cousin is king of the Island of the Mighty, and
though he has done thee wrong, thou hast never been a claimant of land
or possessions." "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 belong 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 any fairer than they. Do thou and Rhiannon enjoy
them, and if thou desire any possessions thou wilt not despise these."
"I do not, chieftain," said he, "Heaven reward thee for the
friendship! 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
They set forth, and, however long the journey, they came at last to
Dyved; and a feast was prepared for them by Rhiannon and Kieva. Then
began Manawyddan and Rhiannon to sit and to talk together; and 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." "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.
"Tarry ye here the rest of the feast, and I will go into England to
tender my homage unto Caswallawn, the son of Beli," said Pryderi.
"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 these four, that they
would not be parted from each other by night nor by day.
In the midst of all this he went to Caswallawn at Oxford, and tendered
his homage; and honorable was his reception there, and highly was he
praised for offering his homage.
After his return Pryderi and Manawyddan began a feast at Narberth, for
it was the chief palace. When they had ended the first meal, while
those who served them ate, they arose and went to the Mound of
Narberth, and their retinue with them. As they sat there, behold a
peal of thunder, and, with the violence of the thunder-storm, 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. When they looked
towards the place where they were wont to see the cattle and herds and
dwellings, they saw nothing now, neither house, nor beast, nor smoke,
nor fire, nor man, nor dwelling, but the buildings of the court empty
and uninhabited, without either man or beast within them.
"In the name of Heaven," said Manawyddan, "where are they of the
court, and all my host beside? Let us go and see."
So they came to the castle, and saw no man, and into the hall, and to
the sleeping-place, and there was none; and in the mead-cellar and in
the kitchen there was naught but desolation. 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.
One morning Pryderi and Manawyddan ranged their dogs and went forth to
hunt. Some of the dogs ran before them, and came to a 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," said Pryderi, "and see what is in it." As they came near,
behold, a wild boar of a pure white color 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, until the men had come near. 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, the dogs after him. Then men
began to wonder at finding a castle in a place where they had never
before seen any building, and listened for the dogs. But 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, "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 to the castle he went.
When he came within the castle he found neither man nor beast, nor
boar, nor dogs, nor house, nor dwelling within it. 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.
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 bowl was placed; and all his
joyousness forsook him, so that he could not utter a word. And thus he
Manawyddan waited for him till near the close of the day. Late in the
evening, being certain that he should have no tidings of Pryderi or
the dogs, he went back to the palace. 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 went in. As she went in, she perceived Pryderi laying hold of the
bowl, and she went towards him. "O my lord," said she, "what dost
thou here?" She took hold of the bowl with him; and as she did so her
hands also 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 Kieva 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 more pure than that which I will bear
thee, but it is not fitting for us to stay here; we have lost our
dogs, and cannot get food. Let us go into England; it is easiest for
us to find support there." "Gladly, lord," said she, "we will do so."
And they set forth together to England.
"Lord," said she, "what craft wilt thou follow? Take up one that is
seemly," "None other will I take," answered he, "but that of making
shoes." "Lord," said she, "such a craft becomes not a man so nobly
born as thou." "By that however will I abide," said he. "I know
nothing thereof," said Kieva. "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 they went into England, and went as far as Hereford; and they
betook themselves to making shoes. He began by buying the best
cordwain that could be had in the town, and 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
learned the method. When they could be had from him, not a shoe nor
hose was bought of any of the cordwainers in the town. When the
cordwainers perceived that their gains were failing they came together
and took counsel, and agreed that they would slay them. And he had
warning thereof, and it was told him how the cordwainers had agreed
together to slay him.
"Lord," said Kieva, "wherefore should this be borne from these boors?"
"Nay," said he, "we will go back unto Dyved." So towards Dyved they
Now Manawyddan, when he set out to return to Dyved, took with him a
burden of wheat. And he proceeded towards Narberth, and there he
dwelt. Never was he better pleased than when he saw Narberth again,
and the lands where he had been wont to hunt with Pryderi and with
Rhiannon. And he accustomed himself to fish, and to hunt the deer in
their covert. He began to prepare some ground, and he sowed a croft,
and a second, and a third. And no wheat in the world ever sprung up
better. The three crofts prospered with perfect growth, and no man
ever saw fairer wheat.
Thus passed the seasons of the year until the harvest came. And he
went to look at one of his crofts, and, behold, it was ripe. "I will
reap this to-morrow," said he. On the morrow, when he came there, he
found nothing but the bare straw. Every one of the ears of the wheat
was cut off from the stalk, and all the ears carried entirely
away. And at this he marvelled greatly.
Then he went to look at another croft, and, behold, that also was
ripe. "Verily," said he, "this will I reap to-morrow." And on the
morrow he came with the intent to reap it; and when he came there, he
found nothing but the bare straw.
"O gracious Heaven!" he exclaimed. "I know that whosoever has begun
my ruin is completing it, and has also destroyed the country with me."
Then he went to look at the third croft; and when he came there, finer
wheat had there never been seen, and this also was ripe. "Evil betide
me," said he, "if I watch not here to-night. Whoever carried off the
other corn will come in like manner to take this, and I will know who
it is." And he told Kieva all that had befallen. "Verily," said she,
"what thinkest thou to do?" "I will watch the croft to-night," said
he. And he went to watch the croft.
At midnight he heard something stirring among the wheat; and he
looked, and behold, the mightiest host of mice in the world, which
could neither be numbered nor measured. He knew not what it was until
the mice had made their way into the croft, and each of them, climbing
up the straw and bending it down with its weight, had cut off one of
the ears of wheat and had carried it away, leaving there the stalk;
and he saw not a single straw there that had not a mouse to it. And
they all took their way, carrying the ears with them.
In wrath and anger did he rush upon the mice, but he could no more
come up with them than if they had been gnats or birds of the air,
except one only, which, though it was but sluggish, went so fast that
a man on foot could scarce overtake it. After this one he went, and
he caught it and put it in his glove, and tied up the opening of the
glove with a string, and kept it with him, and returned to the
palace. Then he came to the hall where Kieva was, and he lighted a
fire, and hung the glove by the string upon a peg. "What hast thou
there, lord?" said Kieva. "A thief," said he, "that I found robbing
me." "What kind of a thief may it be, lord, that thou couldst put into
thy glove?" said she. Then he told her how the mice came to the last
of the fields in his sight. "And one of them was less nimble than the
rest, and is now in my glove; to-morrow I will hang it." "My lord,"
said she, "this is marvellous; but yet it would be unseemly for a man
of dignity like thee to be hanging such a reptile as this." "Woe
betide me," said he, "if I would not hang them all, could I catch
them, and such as I have I will hang." "Verily, lord," said she,
"there is no reason that I should succor this reptile, except to
prevent discredit unto thee. Do therefore, lord, as thou wilt."
Then he went to the Mound of Narberth, taking the mouse with him. He
set up two forks on the highest part of the mound, and while he was
doing this he saw a scholar coming towards him, in old and tattered
garments. It was seven years since he had seen in that place either
man or beast, except those four persons who had remained together
until two of them were lost.
"My lord," said the scholar, "good day to thee." "Heaven prosper
thee, and my greeting be unto thee! And whence dost thou come,
scholar?" asked he. "I come, lord, from singing in England; and
wherefore dost thou inquire?" "Because for the last seven years,"
answered he, "I have seen no man here save four secluded persons, and
thyself this moment." "Truly, lord," said he, "I go through this land
unto mine own. And what work art thou upon, lord?" "I am hanging a
thief that I caught robbing me," said he. "What manner of thief is
that?" asked the scholar. "I see a creature in thy hand like unto a
mouse, and ill does it become a man of rank equal to thine to touch a
reptile such as this. Let it go forth free." "I will not let it go
free, by Heaven," said he; "I caught it robbing me, and the doom of a
thief will I inflict upon it, and I will hang it." "Lord," said he,
"rather than see a man of rank equal to thine at such a work as this,
I would give thee a pound, which I have received as alms, to let the
reptile go forth free." "I will not let it go free," said he, "neither
will I sell it." "As thou wilt, lord," he answered; "I care naught."
And the scholar went his way.
As he was placing the cross-beam upon the two forks, behold, a priest
came towards him, upon a horse covered with trappings. "Good day to
thee, lord," said he. "Heaven prosper thee!" said Manawyddan; "thy
blessing." "The blessing of Heaven be upon thee! And what, lord, art
Thou doing?" "I am hanging a thief that I caught robbing me," said
he. "What manner of thief, lord?" asked he. "A creature," he
answered, "in the form of a mouse. It has been robbing me, and I am
inflicting upon it the doom of a thief." "Lord," said he, "rather than
see thee touch this reptile, I would purchase its freedom." "By my
confession to Heaven, neither will I sell it nor set it free." "It is
true, lord, that it is worth nothing to buy; but rather than see thee
defile thyself by touching such a reptile as this, I will give thee
three pounds to let it go." "I will not, by Heaven," said he, "take
any price for it. As it ought, so shall it be hanged." And the priest
went his way.
Then he noosed the string around the mouse's neck, and as he was about
to draw it up, behold, he saw a bishop's retinue, with his
sumpter-horses and his attendants. The bishop himself came towards
him, and he stayed his work. "Lord bishop," said he, "thy blessing."
"Heaven's blessing be unto thee!" said he. "What work art thou upon?"
"Hanging a thief that I caught robbing me," said he. "Is not that a
mouse that I see in thy hand?" "Yes," answered he, "and she has
robbed me." "Ay," said he, "since I have come at the doom of this
reptile, I will ransom it of thee. I will give thee seven pounds for
it, and that rather than see a man of rank equal to thine destroying
so vile a reptile as this. Let it loose, and thou shalt have the
money." "I declare to Heaven that I will not let it loose." "If thou
wilt not loose it for this, I will give thee four and twenty pounds of
ready money to set it free." "I will not set it free, by Heaven, for
as much again," said he. "If thou wilt not set it free for this, I
will give thee all the horses that thou seest in this plain, and the
seven loads of baggage, and the seven horses that they are upon." "By
Heaven, I will not," he replied. "Since for this thou wilt not set it
free, do so at what price soever thou wilt." "I will that Rhiannon and
Pryderi be free," said he. "That thou shalt have," he answered. "Not
yet will I loose the mouse, by Heaven." "What then wouldst thou?"
"That the charm and the illusion be removed from the seven cantrevs of
Dyved." "This shalt thou have also; set therefore the mouse free." "I
will not set it free, by Heaven," said he, "till I know who the mouse
may be." "She is my wife." "Wherefore came she to me?" "To despoil
thee," he answered. "I am Lloyd, the son of Kilwed, and I cast the
charm over the seven cantrevs of Dyved. And it was to avenge Gawl,
the son of Clud, from the friendship I had towards him, that I cast
the charm. And upon Pryderi did I avenge Gawl, the son of Clud, for
the game of Badger in the Bag, that Pwyll, the son of Auwyn, played
upon him. And when it was known that thou wast come to dwell in the
land, my household came and besought me to transform them into mice,
that they might destroy thy corn. They went the first and the second
night, and destroyed thy two crops. The third night my wife came unto
me, and the ladies of the court, and besought me to transform
them. And I transformed them. Now my wife was not in her usual health,
for had she been in her usual health thou wouldst not have been able
to overtake her; but since this has taken place, and she has been
caught, I will restore to thee Pryderi and Rhiannon, and I will take
the charm and illusion from off Dyved. Set her therefore free." "I
will not set her free yet." "What wilt thou more?" he asked. "I will
that there be no more charm upon the seven cantrevs of Dyved, and that
none shall be put upon it henceforth; moreover, that vengeance be
never taken for this, either upon Pryderi or Rhiannon, or upon me."
"All this shalt thou have. And truly thou hast done wisely in asking
this. Upon thy head would have lit all this trouble." "Yea," said he,
"for fear thereof was it that I required this." "Set now my wife at
liberty." "I will not," said he, "until I see Pryderi and Rhiannon
with me free." "Behold, here they come," he answered.
And thereupon behold Pryderi and Rhiannon. He rose up to meet them,
and greeted them, and sat down beside them. "Ah, chieftain, set now my
wife at liberty," said the bishop. "Hast thou not received all thou
didst ask?" "I will release her, gladly," said he. And thereupon he
set her free.
Then he struck her with a magic wand, and she was changed back into a
young woman, the fairest ever seen.
"Look round upon thy land," said he, "and thou wilt see it all tilled
and peopled as it was in its best estate." And he rose up and looked
forth. And when he looked he saw all the lands tilled, and full of
herds and dwellings.