"The Ballad of Gwydion", Episode III: Autumn

The Fourth Branch of the Ancient Welsh Mabinogion Retold as a Ballad in Four Episodes

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THE BALLAD OF GWYDION

by Jane Murphy

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To start at the beginning of this story, click here:

"The Ballad of Gwydion", Episode I: Spring

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III. Autumn

In the Court of the palace at Mur y Castell
Blodeuedd wandered one crisp autumn day,
Pondering how she could pass the time well
While her husband Llew stayed with kin far away.

For the Court of his uncle he’d set out that morn,
And she had been wondering how he might fare,
When presently she heard the sound of a horn,
And instantly wanted to know who was there.

A stag bolted past, with some dogs in pursuit;
A party of huntsmen then brought up the rear.
A noble among them sped forward to shoot,
And down in defeat fell the ill-fated deer.

Gronw Pebyr, she was told, was his name.
The time that remained until sunset was short.
With interest she watched as he processed his game,
Then wearily came towards the gate of the Court.

“The Chieftain would want us to shelter him here,
For here we have always hospitable been,”
The lady declared as the huntsman drew near,
And the whole household graciously welcomed him in.

Scarcely was Blodeuedd comfortably seated,
Conversing with Gronw before the warm fire,
When both felt they were in each other completed,
And quite overwhelmed with erotic desire.

They tarried together not one night, but three,
Afraid to be caught, yet reluctant to part.
A plan they conceived to set Blodeuedd free,
So that they could marry and make a new start.

“Learn from thy husband the way he can die,”
Gronw advised, as they plotted their coup,
“Tell him you fear for him! Wheedle and cry!
When we have his secret, we’ll know what to do.”

Knowing her husband’s return would be soon,
She fixed on the deed their decision implied.
Gronw departed that same afternoon,
Before Llew Llaw Gyffes returned to her side.

She greeted Llew eagerly, priming him well
With sumptuous feasting and discourse and song,
But when they retired, into silence she fell,
And, duly concerned, he inquired what was wrong.

Biding until he was truly alarmed,
She whispered at last a malevolent lie:
“I am most fearful that thou might be harmed!
Haste to assure me that thou wilt not die!”

Glad of her voice, Llew was prompt to comply
With true explanation, her fears to allay.
“Thou needest not worry that I will soon die.
I can only be killed in one unlikely way.”

Now was her moment. There was no retreat.
She swallowed and focused, and then took a breath.
“I must know how to protect thee, my sweet!
Tell me exactly the means of thy death!”

Said he, “I can only be slain by a spear
Shaped only on Sundays, during sacrifice.
And it must be formed in the time of one year,
No less and no more, nothing else would suffice.

“I cannot be slain in a house nor without,
Nor sitting on horseback, nor standing on foot.”
“How, then?” she prompted, her tone hinting doubt.
“Oh, there is a way, though one would be hard put.

“If ever some enemy should wish me dead,
And if my demise were most carefully planned,
A cauldron of water with roof overhead,
And if, having bathed in it, I were to stand

“With one of my feet on the back of a buck,
The edge of the cauldron supporting its mate,
And if at that moment I were to be struck
By that single spear long prepared for my fate,

“Then, and no sooner, would I meet my death.
Now art thou at peace, knowing I am so blessed?”
Blodeuedd sighed with a satisfied breath,
And meekly replied, “I would never have guessed.”

Wasting no time, she sent word to Gronw,
Who, in the way specified, fashioned a spear.
Week by long week his dark handiwork grew,
And it was complete at the end of a year.

“Lord, I have lately become quite bemused,”
Said Blodeuedd to Llew in innocent tone.
“I confess that I am still most confused,
That thou shouldst not die soon and leave me alone.

“I wish to believe thy good words that I heard,
But somehow I still cannot picture the scene.
Those strange stipulations were just too absurd!
Wilt thou not now show me just what thou didst mean?” 

He smiled at her fondly, and gladly agreed.
She sent unto Gronw her plan for the kill.
She’d set up the scene for their treacherous deed,
With Gronw in ambush on a nearby hill.

Llew followed Blodeuedd down to the spot
By the river where, having assembled the scene
That he had described, with its roof and great pot,
She doubtfully asked, “Is this what thou didst mean?”

Approvingly, Llew then confirmed that it was.
“Wilt thou go into the bath now?” asked she.
True to his promise, he went without pause.
“Willingly will I go in,” answered he.

Into the cauldron he willingly went,
And when he was bathed and anointed, he called
For one of the buck goats the locals had sent,
Then out of the cauldron he carefully crawled.

With one of his feet on the edge of the pot,
And his other foot on the back of the buck,
He stood so his wife could observe the whole lot,
With no thought that he might be fatally struck.

Gronw emerged from his place on the hill.
His spear found its mark in the side of good Llew,
Who, with a harsh scream that was fearfully shrill,
Turned into an eagle, and upward he flew.

No more was seen of the Chieftain so slain.
Gronw took over his wife and his home.
Seizing possession of Llew’s fair domain,
The usurper ruled it along with his own.

Continue to Episode IV:

"The Ballad of Gwydion", Episode IV: Winter

Source: Guest, Lady Charlotte E. (translation from the Red Book of Hergest), The Mabinogion, Dover edition (1997): 47-49