This translation by LIAM GUILAR is from the medieval Welsh prose tale, Culhwch ac Olwen. Having enlisted the help of his cousin, King Arthur, Culhwch and his companions set out from Arthur’s court to find Olwen, the daughter of Ysbaddaden Pencawr (Ysbaddaden Chief Giant)
Six go in search of a bride
And so they travel ‘til they come to a vast plain,
and they see the biggest fort they’d ever seen.
All that day they struggled towards it,
but ‘though they thought they were advancing,
they were no nearer than when they started.
And the second and third day they travelled,
and with difficulty approached the fort.
As they closed the distance, they saw a flock of sheep,
so vast they couldn’t see the ends of it.
On the top of a mound, a shepherd, dressed in skins,
was guarding it and by his side a shaggy dog
bigger than a horse nine winters old.
He had never lost a lamb much less a full grown sheep.
No troop had ever gone past
without him doing it hurt or harm.
His breath would burn to the ground,
any dead bush or tree on the plain.
Kei said to Gwrhyr Interpreter of Tongues:
‘Go talk to that man.’
‘Me? I promised to go as far as you did,
I didn’t say I’d go any further.
We’ll go together.’
Menw mab Tiergywaed said:
‘Don’t worry about the hound,
I’ll glamour it and you’ll be safe.’
‘It is fine you are, shepherd.’[i]
‘May things be no better for you than they are for me.’
‘God’s truth, you are the chief.’
‘No one can harm me except my wife.’
‘Whose sheep do you guard and whose is that fort?’
‘Stupid men. Everybody knows
that fort belongs to Ysbaddaden Pencawr.’
‘And you, who are you?’
‘Custenhin Amhynwyedic and on account of my wife,
my brother Ysbaddaden Pencawr has ruined me.
And you, who are you?’
‘We are Arthur’s messengers,
come to ask for Olwen.’
‘Oh men, may God protect you.
For all the world don’t do that.
No one ever came on that errand
and left with his life.’
The shepherd arose from the mound.
As he arose, Culhwch gave him a golden ring.
He tried to put it on, but it wouldn’t fit.
He put it in the finger of his glove, went home,
and gave the glove to his wife.
‘Where did you find this ring
It’s not your usual scavenging.’
‘As I was walking down by the sea side.’
‘A long way from your sheep?’
‘I was looking for seafood.
I saw a fine corpse tossed up by the tide
and found this gold ring on his finger.’
‘Take me there, husband,’ the wife replied.
‘If the sea won’t swallow a dead man’s treasure,
show me his fine looking corpse.’
‘The dead man will soon be washed to our gates
so be patient a little and linger.’
‘His name, husband, tell me his name?’
‘Culhwch, your nephew, your sister’s son.
He’s come here looking for Olwen.’
‘Bittersweet is your news, husband,
I’ll see my nephew at last:
but that’s a quest no one’s survived.’
Hearing the noise of their approach
she rushed out to greet them.
As she opened her arms to embrace him,
Kei snatched a log from the woodpile
and placed the stake between her hands.
She squeezed it until it was a twisted withy.
‘Ha woman,’ he said, ‘that was an evil loving.
If you’d hugged me like that, no one
would ever make love to me again.’
They were welcomed into the house.
After a while, when all were busy,
she opened a chest beside the hearth,
releasing a youth with curly, golden hair.
‘It‘s a shame to conceal such a lad,’ said Gwrhyr.
‘I know it’s not his crime that’s being punished.’
‘He’s all that I’ve got left,’ she said.
‘I had 23 sons and Ysbaddaden Pencawr
has killed them all.
I’ve no more hope for this one
than I had for his dead brothers.’
‘Be my companion,’ said Kei,
‘and no one will kill either of us,
unless they kill us both.’
As they continued eating,
the woman asked:
‘What errand brought you here?’
‘We have come to seek Olwen.’
‘For God’s sake, turn back;
before you’re seen
by someone in the fort.’
‘God’s truth, we will not,
until we’ve seen the maiden.
Does she come to a place
where we could see her?’
‘Every Saturday she comes here to wash her hair
and every Saturday she leaves her rings in the bowl.
Neither she nor her servants come back for them.’
‘Will she come if she is sent for?’
‘God knows I will not harm my friend.
I will not betray one who trusts me.
But if you give me your word
she won’t be harmed, I’ll send for her.’
‘We give it.’
And so they sent for her.
[i] Throughout the story, there are conversations like the one which follows, which sound as though the participants are in a scene from a Beckett play.
LIAM GUILAR is Poetry Editor of the Brazen Head