_ [Footnote: Amongst all the characters of early British history
none is the more interesting, or occupies more conspicuous place,
than the hero of this tale. Urien, his father, was prince of
Rheged, a district comprising the present Cumberland and part of
the adjacent country. His valor, and the consideration in which he
was held, are a frequent theme of Bardic song, and form the
subject of several very spirited odes by Taliesin. Among the
Triads there is one relating to him; it is thus translated:
"Three Knights of Battle were in court of Arthur Cadwr, the Earl
of Cornwall, Launcelot du Lac, and Owain, the son of Urien. And
this was their characteristic--that they would not retreat from
battle, neither for spear, nor for arrow, nor for sword. And
Arthur never had shame in battle the day he saw their faces there.
And they were called the Knights of Battle."]
"Now," quoth Owain, "would it not be well to go and endeavor to
discover that place?"
"By the hand of my friend," said Kay, "often dost thou utter that
with thy tongue which thou wouldest not make good with thy deeds."
"In very truth," said Guenever, "it were better thou wert hanged,
Kay, than to use such uncourteous speech towards a man like
Owain."
"By the hand of my friend, good lady," said Kay, "thy praise of
Owain is not greater than mine."
With that Arthur awoke, and asked if he had not been sleeping a
little.
"Yes, lord," answered Owain, "thou hast slept awhile."
"Is it time for us to go to meat?"
"It is, lord," said Owain.
Then the horn for washing was sounded, and the king and all his
household sat down to eat. And when the meal was ended Owain
withdrew to his lodging, and made ready his horse and his arms.
On the morrow with the dawn of day he put on his armor, and
mounted his charger, and travelled through distant lands, and over
desert mountains. And at length he arrived at the valley which
Kynon had described to him, and he was certain that it was the
same that he sought. And journeying along the valley, by the side
of the river, he followed its course till he came to the plain,
and within sight of the castle. When he approached the castle he
saw the youths shooting with their bows, in the place where Kynon
had seen them, and the yellow man, to whom the castle belonged,
standing hard by. And no sooner had Owain saluted the yellow man,
than he was saluted by him in return.
And he went forward towards the castle, and there he saw the
chamber; and when he had entered the chamber, he beheld the
maidens working at satin embroidery, in chains of gold. And their
beauty and their comeliness seemed to Owain far greater than Kynon
had represented to him. And they arose to wait upon Owain, as they
had done to Kynon. And the meal which they set before him gave
even more satisfaction to Owain than it had done to Kynon.
About the middle of the repast the yellow man asked Owain the
object of his journey. And Owain made it known to him, and said,
"I am in quest of the knight who guards the fountain." Upon this
the yellow man smiled, and said that he was as loth to point out
that adventure to him as he had been to Kynon. However, he
described the whole to Owain, and they retired to rest.
The next morning Owain found his horse made ready for him by the
damsels, and he set forward and came to the glade where the black
man was. And the stature of the black man seemed more wonderful to
Owain than it had done to Kynon; and Owain asked of him his road,
and he showed it to him. And Owain followed the road till he came
to the green tree; and he beheld the fountain, and the slab beside
the fountain, with the bowl upon it. And Owain took the bowl and
threw a bowlful of water upon the slab. And, lo! the thunder was
heard, and after the thunder came the shower, more violent than
Kynon had described, and after the shower the sky became bright.
And immediately the birds came and settled upon the tree and sang.
And when their song was most pleasing to Owain he beheld a knight
coming towards him through the valley; and he prepared to receive
him, and encountered him violently. Having broken both their
lances, they drew their swords and fought blade to blade. Then
Owain struck the knight a blow through his helmet, head-piece, and
visor, and through the skin, and the flesh, and the bone, until it
wounded the very brain. Then the black knight felt that he had
received a mortal wound, upon which he turned his horse's head and
fled. And Owain pursued him and followed close upon him, although
he was not near enough to strike him with his sword. Then Owain
descried a vast and resplendent castle; and they came to the
castle gate. And the black knight was allowed to enter, and the
portcullis was let fall upon Owain; and it struck his horse behind
the saddle, and cut him in two, and carried away the rowels of the
spurs that were upon Owains' heels. And the portcullis descended
to the floor. And the rowels of the spurs and part of the horse
were without, and Owain with the other part of the horse remained
between the two gates, and the inner gate was closed, so that
Owain could not go thence; and Owain was in a perplexing
situation. And while he was in this state, he could see through an
aperture in the gate a street facing him, with a row of houses on
each side. And he beheld a maiden, with yellow, curling hair, and
a frontlet of gold upon her head; and she was clad in a dress of
yellow satin, and on her feet were shoes of variegated leather.
And she approached the gate, and desired that it should be opened.
"Heaven knows, lady," said Owain, "it is no more possible for me
to open to thee from hence, than it is for thee to set me free."
And he told her his name, and who he was. "Truly," said the
damsel, "it is very sad that thou canst not be released; and every
woman ought to succor thee, for I know there is no one more
faithful in the service of ladies than thou. Therefore," quoth
she, "whatever is in my power to do for thy release, I will do it.
Take this ring and put it on thy finger, with the stone inside thy
hand, and close thy hand upon the stone. And as long as thou
concealest it, it will conceal thee. When they come forth to fetch
thee, they will be much grieved that they cannot find thee. And I
will await thee on the horseblock yonder, and thou wilt be able to
see me, though I cannot see thee. Therefore come and place thy
hand upon my shoulder, that I may know that thou art near me. And
by the way that I go hence do thou accompany me."
Then the maiden went away from Owain, and he did all that she had
told him. And the people of the castle came to seek Owain to put
him to death; and when they found nothing but the half of his
horse, they were sorely grieved.
And Owain vanished from among them, and went to the maiden, and
placed his hand upon her shoulder; whereupon she set off, and
Owain followed her, until they came to the door of a large and
beautiful chamber, and the maiden opened it, and they went in. And
Owain looked around the chamber, and behold there was not a single
nail in it that was not painted with gorgeous colors, and there
was not a single panel that had not sundry images in gold
portrayed upon it.
The maiden kindled a fire, and took water in a silver bowl, and
gave Owain water to wash. Then she placed before him a silver
table, inlaid with gold; upon which was a cloth of yellow linen,
and she brought him food. And, of a truth, Owain never saw any
kind of meat that was not there in abundance, but it was better
cooked there than he had ever found it in any other place. And
there was not one vessel from which he was served that was not of
gold or of silver. And Owain eat and drank until late in the
afternoon, when lo! they heard a mighty clamor in the castle, and
Owain asked the maiden what it was. "They are administering
extreme unction," said she, "to the nobleman who owns the castle."
And she prepared a couch for Owain which was meet for Arthur
himself, and Owain went to sleep.
And a little after daybreak he heard an exceeding loud clamor and
wailing, and he asked the maiden what was the cause of it. "They
are bearing to the church the body of the nobleman who owned the
castle."
And Owain rose up, and clothed himself, and opened a window of the
chamber, and looked towards the castle; and he could see neither
the bounds nor the extent of the hosts that filled the streets.
And they were fully armed; and a vast number of women were with
them, both on horseback and on foot, and all the ecclesiastics in
the city singing. In the midst of the throng he beheld the bier,
over which was a veil of white linen; and wax tapers were burning
beside and around it; and none that supported the bier was lower
in rank than a powerful baron.
Never did Owain see an assemblage so gorgeous with silk [Footnote:
Before the sixth century all the silk used by Europeans had been
brought to them by the Seres, the ancestors of the present
Boukharians, whence it derived its Latin name of Serica. In 551
the silkworm was brought by two monks to Constantinople, but the
manufacture of silk was confined to the Greek empire till the year
1130, when Roger, king of Sicily, returning from a crusade,
collected some manufacturers from Athens and Corinth, and
established them at Palermo, whence the trade was gradually
disseminated over Italy. The varieties of silk stuffs known at
this time were velvet, satin (which was called samite), and
taffety (called cendal or sendall), all of which were occasionally
stitched with gold and silver.] and satin. And, following the
train, he beheld a lady with yellow hair falling over her
shoulders, and stained with blood; and about her a dress of yellow
satin, which was torn. Upon her feet were shoes of variegated
leather. And it was a marvel that the ends of her fingers were not
bruised from the violence with which she smote her hands together.
Truly she would have been the fairest lady Owain ever saw, had she
been in her usual guise. And her cry was louder than the shout of
the men or the clamor of the trumpets. No sooner had he beheld the
lady than he became inflamed with her love, so that it took entire
possession of him.
Then he inquired of the maiden who the lady was. "Heaven knows,"
replied the maiden, "she is the fairest and the most chaste, and
the most liberal, and the most noble of women. She is my mistress,
and she is called the Countess of the Fountain, the wife of him
whom thou didst slay yesterday." "Verily," said Owain, "she is the
woman that I love best." "Verily," said the maiden, "she shall
also love thee, not a little."
Then the maiden prepared a repast for Owain, and truly he thought
he had never before so good a meal, nor was he ever so well
served. Then she left him, and went towards the castle. When she
came there, she found nothing but mourning and sorrow; and the
Countess in her chamber could not bear the sight of any one
through grief. Luned, for that was the name of the maiden, saluted
her, but the Countess answered her not. And the maiden bent down
towards her, and said, "What aileth thee, that thou answereth no
one to-day?" "Luned," said the Countess, "what change hath
befallen thee, that thou hast not come to visit me in my grief. It
was wrong in thee, and I so sorely afflicted." "Truly," said
Luned, "I thought thy good sense was greater than I find it to be.
Is it well for thee to mourn after that good man, or for anything
else that thou canst not have?" "I declare to Heaven," said the
Countess, "that in the whole world there is not a man equal to
him." "Not so," said Luned, "for an ugly man would be as good as
or better than he." "I declare to Heaven," said the Countess,
"that were it not repugnant to me to put to death one whom I have
brought up, I would have thee executed for making such a
comparison to me. As it is, I will banish thee." "I am glad," said
Luned, "that thou hast no other cause to do so than that I would
have been of service to thee, where thou didst not know what was
to thine advantage. Henceforth, evil betide whichever of us shall
make the first advance towards reconciliation to the other,
whether I should seek an invitation from thee, or thou of thine
own accord should send to invite."
With that Luned went forth; and the Countess arose and followed
her to the door of the chamber, and began coughing loudly. And
when Luned looked back, the Countess beckoned to her, and she
returned to the Countess. "In truth," said the Countess, "evil is
thy disposition; but if thou knowest what is to my advantage,
declare it to me." "I will do so," said she.
"Thou knowest that, except by warfare and arms, it is impossible
for thee to preserve thy possessions; delay not, therefore, to
seek some one who can defend them." "And how can I do that?" said
the Countess. "I will tell thee," said Luned; "unless thou canst
defend the fountain, thou canst not maintain thy dominions; and no
one can defend the fountain except it be a knight of Arthur's
household. I will go to Arthur's court, and ill betide me if I
return not thence with a warrior who can guard the fountain as
well as, or even better than, he who defended it formerly." "That
will be hard to perform," said the Countess. "Go, however, and
make proof of that which thou hast promised,"
Luned set out under the pretence of going to Arthur's court; but
she went back to the mansion where she had left Owain, and she
tarried there as long as it might have taken her to travel to the
court of King Arthur and back. And at the end of that time she
apparelled herself, and went to visit the Countess. And the
Countess was much rejoiced when she saw her, and inquired what
news she brought from the court. "I bring thee the best of news,"
said Luned, "for I have compassed the object of my mission. When
wilt thou that I should present to thee the chieftain who has come
with me hither?" "Bring him here to visit me to-morrow," said the
Countess, "and I will cause the town to be assembled by that
time."
And Luned returned home. And the next day at noon, Owain arrayed
himself in a coat and a surcoat, and a mantle of yellow satin,
upon which was a broad band of gold lace; and on his feet were
high shoes of variegated leather, which were fastened by golden
clasps, in the form of lions. And they proceeded to the chamber of
the Countess.
Right glad was the Countess of their coming. And she gazed
steadfastly upon Owain, and said, "Luned, this knight has not the
look of a traveller." "What harm is there in that, lady?" said
Luned. "I am certain," said the Countess, "that no other man than
this chased the soul from the body of my lord." "So much the
better for thee, lady," said Luned, "for had he not been stronger
than thy lord, he could not have deprived him of life. There is no
remedy for that which is past, be it as it may." "Go back to thine
abode," said the Countess, "and I will take counsel."
The next day the Countess caused all her subjects to assemble, and
showed them that her earldom was left defenceless, and that it
could not be protected but with horse and arms, and military
skill. "Therefore," said she, "this is what I offer for your
choice: either let one of you take me, or give your consent for me
to take a husband from elsewhere, to defend my dominions."
So they came to the determination that it was better that she
should have permission to marry some one from elsewhere; and
thereupon she sent for the bishops and archbishops, to celebrate
her nuptials with Owain. And the men of the earldom did Owain
homage.
And Owain defended the fountain with lance and sword. And this is
the manner in which he defended it. Whensoever a knight came
there, he overthrew him, and sold him for his full worth. And what
he thus gained he divided among his barons and his knights, and no
man in the whole world could be more beloved than he was by his
subjects. And it was thus for the space of three years.
[Footnote: There exists an ancient poem, printed among those of
Taliesin, called the "Elegy of Owain ap Urien," and containing
several very beautiful and spirited passages It commences
"The soul of Owain ap Urien,
May its Lord consider its exigencies'
Reged's chief the green turf covers."
In the course of this Elegy the bard, alluding to the incessant
warfare with which this chieftain harassed his Saxon foes,
exclaims,
"Could England sleep with the light upon her eyes'"] _