The Adventure of Guimier
In nnolach, cant il Roys Marx map Merchion, il rech onorú le Kernow, eoer a Castre Dore, ys yn fhestals de dies cyntheck al medhmis le Duman ys tenès, e thots lor nkingethes fhort amb lo fuat collectús. e wherment il Roys Arts map Uthoer Pendraccú, il rech for tot lor mBrittanor yen ac h-ollor, eoer il ospes onorú, e dos hArth, la kathedra a la destra le Marx. il Roys Marx ac h-il Roys Arts y thrava choses reyal ys adouont: yn nzon d’arew blanch yn mbal de mhareteren dhuv yn anouls d’or ambel ngutheluch. tralcue en ilalla in la ndom le Roy March ne nyen rhech nel altoer rech yn ngames o yn mbrach o y chalelles o y h-armilles o yn mbal o y h-oses y plu bhoun ys tenès. per comedher, cascun nyens de wechtialles maboun sa herant supoery mes: navuat mech menus ke dew turcci castús e dheck, e da cascun lor ndurcci avut yn mbatella mag d’argent, rescrivús co marth; caldren mbech d’arew blanch ac h-ysplenduròs, llen co nystúv le moten, fuat possús dos chascun ncuartim luch, dos en ne yen lor nommen navut rhen il ystender lor mbreich pel tener cel ke li plecherew; patelles fighel, co ncalidez lor fhoerni, co mban renew de yen mil formes, eoer intoer cascun dew khingethes; trenchi de chassen rescrivús co marth, llen co fhruttes, eoer supoery mes le Roy March possús co lewoer. pocien — uins rudd, wins blanccòs, medhú duls, ystuts e phocien altoer co lewoer — des fhlasccen lor servillini tan dyn ncasechú lor mbrigi fluev.
Tant mult ys erant y kingeti — da en avut yn numers plu mag kel numers de tot lor nkingeti de tot lor neduoagri in la nystorea le Bretten — ke yen servillins e threwcents y phocien pery ospeis ys decantasont e yen servilla e thrawcents y phatelles vacuefachent plu rapedhment pery ospeis sa detheniont e rephossont. e yen bards e threwcents, inco ce quen il magan Taliesin e il Tremmelpilae, ys cantasont e de chrouthes ben cosonúes e fhinn ys tansont e yen viuladurs e threwcent, inco ce quen il Xristians le Meytoer e la Bonnawen Ysmonion, in ngwiules deis dhorses llanar e deis h-yscawoelles rotund ys tansont e y yen youwadurs e threwcent, inco ce quen il Patric Moulard e il Jeanmiquel Veylon, deis bhombardes phothent e àcer achy bhinen fociferòs e refort achy chalumelles duls e flen achy yaithes achy dhondannes achy phibolles ach h-y thambour ach h-y thempen ach h-y thambourinnes ach h-y h-ousiquelles, y rheoles e xiches e straspelles e chascun mod le baill e dhans pery ospeis ys youwasont.
Cosy khingethes fort ac h-ystut y sevas gweni fort e finn sessont, al menus, cosy khingethes da ke avuat gweni. ay thrichlinnes mesemes, le ngostudú le dun le Roy March seccunt, sa rechlinasont. y thanni, in y seu luches, altement e chaldement ys comardevont; e do chascun ladh ys erant y hornamenti de whireds: y choruni lor mbreich le pin in y chollumhes casseyns herant possúes. y bhreich le colenn e le uchelwets eoer possús in ce cascun luch bel e bhoun; e cist li Rigi Meirch e thot lor naltri alla daplechu; ac h-ys la fhestals e la mbachacien ys inwheidasont.
In noch le oultemh menus daw le festals le Roy March, cant y khingethi ac h-y seu weni ys comedhevens, cel yst maps ystrà ninawant lis totiv ys aparu; ac h-ys dela nderre Ewrow, de trant li mori. ys yn ncames de lains berrech, ac h-yn mbals de pel le arth co nyn ncathen le argent blanch ambel seu ngutheluch lew alligú ys adut. ys yn nzon le bombech preciòs de nCathay ys adut; e sa de colurs diwers ac h-ysplenduròs fachú. il Roys Marx le mbenweneth sich li dedai-el, e ys coin nguth le rech walenteasot-el: “dosforet condeco le mbenweneth, o mharre d’Ewrow! dos foront la pociú e la wechtiala ac h-y dhoni maboun ac h-yn mbenweneth boun!”
E cel yst maps le Rhoy mMarch e thot lor naltres sich ys le mbenweneth lis dedai, e ys co mbenechez walenteasot-els: “prosperitat do the, ac h-il tots lor cosi maboun, o Rhoy Mharch, rech onorú for lor nKernowi, aci in le nCastre nDore, il tewos trechlenns lath ac h-yspaciòs, e do the o hArt Phendraccú, rech for lor mBritannor yen ac h-ollor; ac h-yn mbenweneth mhestiv doi teu khingethes reselent e fhort, Torcci Ferech pothent e mhascul le isel le Pryden, a cein supoery lechtelles preciòs de ceder rescrivúes co marth de Liben sethent! eo vus ortam: o heroes, mhapi le eroes e nebothes le eroes!, ke ne vus inweniath spech ke y vustras rhosas dhuls foraont wourti mordent e àmar.” cel ist fant, ys doi khingethes e doi rheys ys geniposu.
Il maps courtès ac h-astut ys ochelles le yen e thots ys captasot ke ne yen in le ndrichlen le Roy March ne si movuont pass. ne yen lor ngingethi la seva ncen ys comedhu; ne yen lor ngweni ne le seu mhin ne le seu mmedhen sa bevès; ne yen lor servillini le mbocien ys decantasot; ne yen lor servilli ys phatelles ne sa dettenès ne sa reboseus; ne yen lor mbardi, inco ce quen il magan Taliesin e il Tremmelpilae, nyn laidam nyn mbaladh ys cantasot; nyn y chroudhes ben consonúes ys ne tansont pepill; ne yen lor mhiuladurs, inco ce quen il Xristians le Meytoer e la Bonnawen Ysmonion, in ngwiules deis dhorses llanar e deis h-yscawoelles rotund ys tansont; ne yen lor nyouwadurs deis bhombardes phothent e àcer ney bhinen fociferòs e refort ney chalumelles duls e flen ney yaithes ney dhondannes ney phibolles ney thambour ney thempen ney thambourinnes ney h-ousiquelles, y rheoles e xiches e straspelles e chascun mod le baill e dhans pery ospeis ys ne youwasont cuech.
Il maps de la ndeua bolga yn mhirgula long e rhegracel le consell, peryn ndruidh fachúe e flen de mmagich pothent e flen de nerthes marawilòs ys detrayu. il maps in le lav le destre la mhirgul, ke il yen e thots poteusont wedher-la, ys fortenès; la nectasot, ac h-ech alla!, sa in yn mbals de ncondech e whaletatam rhesalent se whors. il yen e thots co mmarawel ys dowhedhevont; ac h-ys cel maps lis dechu: “a’ur, for-w yn mbal vus wedeth; e do li cela ista cualitats: ce que gwenna connubi ke le mbal adhoa, e si do cela ista wein avuet cyn infedelitat, tot nus la mheritatem ngweduremus.” a’ur, il cascun kingets do kei avu yn ngwenna pery dhor le seu ochelles wedeit, per saver si do li sevi gwein avuet cyn ninfedelitat.
A’ur, Guenwyvar le cabel d’or, la gwenna bel e finna le Arth, la Rigú lor mBritannor, eoer la prims l’adventur sorgapher. trans le sol pawementú, co mbroch e co nyerves dopossú, sa wadu, com’yn nardhea sor yn lacolind, ndacet ach h-elegant. cant sa le mbal le maph adou-si, del yscawoel al dheyt il pals ys contremev e conmhibrav, cawsi peryn ndogadur ach h-ys sevas forveches rheserrúes. in le yen ndems, eoer plu long ke deverew; in l’altoer tems, eoer plu bhrew. a’ur eoer rudd, a’ur eoer kerú, a’ur eoer duv. “per ys sachramentes lor meu sengoggi!, do li mevi gwein ay yn infedelitat!”, dechu il Roys Arts.
La Rigú Guenwyuer furiosement le mbal sa deppoulsait, ais sevas cubickles vugent; y khingethes ach h-y wennes ach h-y rheys la nzeva nnudèz deochlar sa poneus. sa le ndruidh ke le mbal ys fechi sa y chornes sa damboneus; sa le mmap le Ewrow, ke a Chastren nDore lo ys tetuli, lo tersares y chornes sa damboneus; dafant “eo in le mbosch ach h-y therres fherech, meu dhies amby arboels wireds tenent, eo wolim wiwer; an-que eo wiwam commhosco in le cist ndrichlen, pery te o rhoy i pery vu o khingethi deridúe!”
Il senesals le Arth, e do li il noms le Kae, e ke eoer ais fhestals le Roy March, la seva ngwen ys forllamasot, “weni cerch, mha dhama bhel!; proisti-ty e the provi de kos genem fort! Mays, si dos avura yn infidelitat, deponi-ty l’adventur e dom eviti la ninfamea ke in me sa gadura!” la cella gwenna, stolúe de colurs diwers, co mmedhen remistaristament, le mbeth le destoer doi seneistoer sa boneus. e pery ist e cell, sa al mmaph sa weneit e le mbal amby seva ngoirp sa h-adou. ach h-ys a’ur com’y h-ali lor nawes voletants ach h-ys a’ur com’y fholi pery went transpellúes; ach h-a’ur ys si collocasot; le ndot le dors la wen dois ochellev lor nkingethi e lor ngweni e lor rheys nudhefachent. e fhestiffachteor tot co la cista nadventur. ys en le senesal nCae namasont pass, e l’oportunitat per ilariarsi ys achapiont. la gwena le mbal othiòs sa deppoulsait, e la seva nudèz wethent, sa vus, la Rigen secuent; y dherisien lor nkingethi e le mbal fugient. yn mBards kingets senòs, kos pila ter in neduoagre fu rompúe, li meip ys propenckasot e sich walenteasot-el: “o mharre finne, dos avura llacenti y phlu bhoun e dos avura yn ncena ngran a la cella fhestals, si ty la mmeva ngwen le mbroversi ty concez; sa at yn gwena mbel, e da hay yn ncorth le plu bhoun!” fu conseú; e si abaru yn ngwena santòs, yn ngwena ngentils, le mbal adhoement. cant per yn ndems amb li coil le wen il pals ys ses, san mowersi, il Bards rendru, yn nom waleteú. mays ech alla!, il pals ys desaparasot!, e ce yen linea e ce yen ndassell per techerla ys poneus. sa le mbal othiòs sa deppouslsait, co lachrimes le penetencien sa vus; e dol mBardh yn mhacem co mbrodicien condorckúe e dois ochelles il eduowendichien.
Yns alch lor ngweni altras l’adventur sa sorchapiont; e la ndoma e la fhata mesmi sa permhonivont; e y sevas infedelitats herant llenefachúes, an-que il Caratacos fort e mhaboun li seva wein ys llamasot: “weni-ty, mha Ghuimier la phlu bhell, la Bhardha hOuchell le mewos chordh; dos avura cel pals pothent, ty en nast fu pun incostancea nonck co mi.”
Cella gwena la plu bella lor ngweni le isel le Pryden, co rhuvurin e co yn mbeth n’infirm pass, si prosteta e le mbal le map sa aggapès. dol dors lo sa adou, le mbal, e ys volitasot. doi palli sa dafatasot: “esso-ty tranchel, thy phale, e nem al infamea me ponas rhen!” e ech alla!, il pals tranchel se poneus; e comu la seva pels finna e lew, il pals do li co perfechien devin accomodasot; cawsi peryn ndogadur le Ter fachu. y mhult erant y khingethi ke co ngran lodacien la colodasont, e y mhult herant y wen ke co ngran lodacien la colodasont.
Avut en yns alch lor nkingethi ke nerant rhen persuadús ke la gwena le kingeth jowenck Carataco forat la gwena la plu boun le isel la Briten. il domnos Ereccs, ben wersú henny arthes le agre, eoer il rix lor ncuerimoni; ach h-il Roys Arts costeta, fant ke yn yen lor ngweni plu fhamòs le sorceder l’adventur sa deverew; il ke yn mbart le seva onur preserwarew.
In noch le festals li cercam, cell il maps il mesmes le facem mbell e le ystutes gran ninawant ys kingethiv aparu. il maps ys ochelles lor ndot ne captasot, mays il cascun om ce adventur ys yspectasot. ys yn nemendacien le adventur le noch senn, co la nGuimier ys yspectasot. il maps co nyn mbeth ne ninfirm pass for lis ys si prosteta, e whalenteant ys totiv: “wesseyl, wesseyl, o khingethi fort e fherech in le ndun le Roy mMarch map Merchion, for le nKernow ambi li meir il Rech, for le Rech nIodhual lor nDumnonor il Bodeowichtoer!” e dois cuerimoniuriv, il maps rendent ys fasot: “aci commico eo le mbenn le turch ferech in la man le destra eo tenem!, o khingethi refort e chupedh, e do li la ista cualitats: do ce quei wein ke li rhuet ‘o phenne mats le turch ferech, in le meu corth ay veritats o nay ke fallàz le miseream?’ eo vois dechu, ys yn rhespons nois datura. me le ncorp de le mbenn eo detetuli, li fant: ‘co la mheritat rhesponni’; e cela ista adventura vu sathesfara.”
De wers, ne yen lor ngingethi la seva ncen ys comedhu; ne yen lor ngweni ne le seu mhin ne le seu mmedhen sa bevès; ne yen lor servillini le mbocien ys decantasot; ne yen lor servilli ys phatelles ne sa dettenès ne sa reboseus; ne yen lor mbardi nyn laidam nyn mbaladh ys cantasot; nyn y chroudhes ben consonúes ys ne tansont pepill; ne yen lor mhiuladurs in ngwiules deis dhorses llanar e deis h-yscawoelles rotund ys tansont; ne yen lor nyouwadurs, inco ce quen il Patric Moulard e il Jeanmiquel Veylon deis bhombardes phothent e àcer ney bhinen fociferòs e refort ney chalumelles duls e flen ney yaithes ney dhondannes ney phibolles ney thambour ney thempen ney thambourinnes ney h-ousiquelles, y rheoles e xiches e straspelles e chascun mod le baill e dhans pery ospeis ys ne youwasont cuech.
Il maps de breich finn, yn ndunich blanch adoent, ce nkiste rescrivúe henny lathes co mbictures violent e bhellicos de cupoer ys aphri. dela nkiste ys yn ngos in naluth ndechúe ys saccasot; e ce cosa fu yn mbenns le turch, perfectment coservú, do li canquen yn milawns.
“Me serw!” la Keridowenna, doi Ereich la gwenna, fatasot, “eo la tricarèz le fil me bo provent!” cel ista fant, il penns le turch y h-ochelles ys aphri, durant la gwenna li propincuav, y sevi luches redhintimath casant. puinyasement sa le mbenn del mmap sa rapu. sa lo tenes; e rhuasot, la seva contrerhespons odent: “o phenne mats le turch ferech, in le meu corth ay veritats o nay ke fallàz le miseriam?” e il penns le turch in acel moment yn rhespons li dedai-la, co nguth llar e bhuccatòs: “doi teu cordi nay la veritats pun! ay fallàz le miserien! ty ne as outh yn ngwena wer! y fratrib Mhatacki ach hIttacki, deis tevi fidelitats rhui, o wenna magna.” Y khingethi reterrorittús le parlar e le buar ys chapetasont; durant yns alch lor naltri lor nkingethi ys fratrib forwhedevont; e dois fratrib y penni dew co ninfamea depossús. la Keridowenna le mbenn le turch sa deppoulsait e le ndrichlen sa vugi, la seva mmagna ninfamea e la ninfamea do Erecki fort dolatúe, pery cistes sa lachrimasot.
Metroccos, il fils alumno li Rigi Eirth, la seva mbovre ngwenna, e do li il nom Pendrocca, li penni le turch ys methu. li meip ben stolú ystant acerch le mhoch, ke le mbenn ys tent, sa reseperrittasot. il penns y h-ochelles ys aphri e co ndemoer sa gremu. il penns li rendru y dhentes ponent e sa fu perfichúe. “forwadi-ty, wenna! fachi-ty ke ti dechu eo!”, il Metroccos dela cathedra a la mes alt li poneus. do li penni la Pendrocca ystendu, la manu condremu, e sa vugi ante ke ys potheus rhesponner; e ys y h-ochelles ys closès, comu dormir. ai! ke povre gwen san nculph!
Avu yn ndrancuiltats durant ke la Guimier le cabel d’or per le mbenn acchaper sa mhonev. sa li ruasot: “o phenne mats le torch ferech, in le ncorth ay veritats o nay ke fallàz le miseriam? nem rhen wer al ndighernobardh le meu chordh?” san dhubitacien, il penns y h-ochelles ys aphri ach h-ys dechu: “o Ghuimier bhella e bhoun lor mbronei mhinn lor nzullis wirets! Nay unill yn ngwenna de plu wherèz al ndigernobardh le seu chordh!” supoery ngiste de cupoer sa le mbenn sa deposeus, ach h-ys la seu fhorm wer ys assumu: yn ndorx ferech e phothent; ambisaltant, carinitant, ydentiponent, ach h-in ladh le cascun rampant! dois astiv pilivcue dois cladimoriv scuthivcue y khingethi ach h-y whenni khingethi ys datenduont; durant ke y servillini ach h-y servilli del ndurch finn con nderrore bouants ys vugiont. dol ndrichlenn avu kaos frangent e chlamurant.
matren naw henny nCastre nDore la lach nachra sa dedhiont, ali cascun yen ke la lach bhoun dedhai; phleint naw henny nKernow la ndethinn ys rhenspuont, ali cascun yen ke mamanasot;
catti naw henny mBritten transpery nder soer yen mbeth ys se whorsont e bhacciasont, ali cascun yen ke ne whorsont pun ne mbacciasont cuech.
dol ndrichlenn avu tumulth e chonfusiú ach h-ys soereci ais phethes la Guimier, tan dhocels comun ngats tan thimedhs comun luchets, ys se collocasot.
Denew avu colodacien magnès per cista wein la plu mheritant. mays denew avu cei celles lor nkingethi ne sathesfachús mech; ach h-il rix lor ncuerimoni fu Gauwannos, il sustenent fort e rheselent le onur le Roy Arth e le poboel e lor ndribui de nComrow. “y cei’stes aventuri herant dois gweniv ne famòs spech! ai, ke na gwena refamòs la naventure sa achapuet!” Gavannos ys dechi; e y khingeti mult na naventure neva ys commandasont.
E hendurant la nnoch oultemh la festal, il maps Ewrow inawant lis totiv ys aparu, e ys lis rewalenteasot-els: “a khingeti noboel e fhirm, violent e fhuriòs le ysel le Pryden, eo’us walenteam henny nom la meva dawnea, la Medebella de Cuonatacca! othet-vus ben henny cesta cos e phrosperat! eo tenc a la mman yn ngorne d’argent e d’arew blanch, pery Govan Dacc fachú henny dhies resenn e anticuòs la Iverneon, cant la teuta la deva Danon ilaci ys avitasot; e doi cornui ay la cela ista cualitats: ce que varrú connubi le ngorne ys youwe, e do li avuet cyn infedelitats spech, tot nus la mheritatem othuremus, ys en yn ndube nglar ys youwab. mays gava-ys il omm ne feis pass! si ys la mbuche bulgúe ke rebaseasot la toute la Eva es del luch, do li corni ys toche, ys y mules de Pryden do infameai pery seu brabant e ghruorgeant rudh ys ponura! si, peircue en la meva downea ke la yen aventura deve sathesfacher henny saber y cualitats la Gracea le Pryden sa defatasot; posseren la aventura la ters sa bhodh do lis ommeniv ne feis pass yn ngran ngastifachentement!” avu kaos e vharron frangent e chlamant cant fuat othúes y novies, e ys omen y sulis dephonuont doi mappi, co l’ystrave le mort, percue ys la aventura comphrenevens. il Roys Arts, kei varron ys comprenev, e ke a’ur la nastutès la Medebelle ys comprenev; dechi: “o vharron le Pryden!, soercue nus y wennes nustras de infameai avemus ystamus ponú, durant y cestes dies dew, pery triccarea la rigen Medebelle; nus peirceren le seu ioche ystrà nus devem finir, e la aventure sorcaper!” y khingeti mult e fhamòs le rech dy triccareas le mappe Ewrow ys permonuont; mays il Roys Arts pery sevas peticion n’ystaba commotú pun.
Y ommen o welent o ne welent pepill pery sorcaper la aventure le corne d’arew ys promhonivont. Dei ommen la, henny trechlenns le March, il Arts map Uthoer Pendraccú, il rech for tot lor mBrittanor yen ach h-ollor, il Maystoers dei terres de la mBretten Bech a la Macreia Adreana, eoer il prims; il Gauvannos, il camulos lor ngingeti; Cuoneglassus il Sennos; Cuonedusius, acuellefers le rech for lor nGorveri; il Roys Marx for lor nGornovi, doi ce quei avu la gwenna Yssolda, la nichu le Uchelrech for lor Iverneon, ne pass yn omm de fama becca henny cell luch; Morvuots, do ce quei il cascun dies at il dies le Bel-tenne; Banuos, il omm la sagella le Camulodun; il Lleits; Barduens, il omm la Barduena, la nichu le Rech for lor Bretten Bech; Brannos, il muccorix de Camadh; Acuella Creracarvos, ke nawcent mbasses ys sorsaltasot; il Lwpons; Senes, il omm la Yowenche; Moruetos il Beccos, il omm la Beccioluccota la Magna; Kemper il Forth, yn maps la Bretten Bech; Senotiaccos doi ce quei abev mais amanz que gwenni e mais gwenni que deyti; Gerontios Pilarrumú, il omm la Siluatecca, que ne poth rhen yn ngwenne llacer; e mhult altri de fama menoer e de onur il menam. il cascun omm, la auenture ys delencuont; mays il Caratacos, il omm la Guimier ne delencu pass, ys en yn ndube nglar pery ngorne ys youwasot! e doi corni avu la ista cualitats: cant il Carataccos le ngorne ys youwasot, la seua llariu resonant ys kingetiv toth de transper la mBretten sa daclamasot de la nDerre nAuallon, e ys do li ys whenont. aur il omm Ewrow ys dechi: “a lwpes pothenz e ferech la Bretten!, ne wedeth vus mech yn ngwenne de cualitatem?, yn ngwenne recostant e wer? Si ne wedeth-al vus aur pun, col seu downe dach, vus ne wedureth-la spech henny curse la vustoer viudde!”
Cela ista dechú, yn gwenta tempest sa tranysperav, pery dun sa gurrev, e tot lor ycknis henny loch sa ystencu; e il maps Ewrow ys desaparu; e da ndrichlenne avu kaos frangent e chlamurant. y mult lor nkingeti ys regiv ys chlamasont, dechenz: “la cosa de la nustra infamea aont y Guimier e Charataccos! nus altri secuiomus-nois la uendecatech rapedh e mortuferent de ce que do nois yst devú! nus altri la viudde la Guimier e la viudde le Caratach nus secuem!” tan nglamaciú ne fu othú pepill henny Castre Dore henny awnes le trewcent; e il Carataccos e la Guimier fuyiont-els, doi freid la Guimier e doi geil il Carataccos, sen nyn muth sen nyn yspech. e cant y khingeti ei chassateors lor reges ne le nommen ne la ngwenne ys photevens loccisacuer; y reges la cassa la maxam henny ystorea la Bretten ys llamasont, llamanz ais khingetiv eis cassateoriv de Kerno, de Deuro, de Gallea, de Belgica, de Kemro, de Comborea, de Weneta, de Pagusea, de Wenta, de Lusetanea, de Taracona, de Narbonna, e de cascun altoer pays.
Sich, il maps Ewrow la punta ys Bretannib daponeus!
At Yule, when Mark son of Merchion, the honoured King of Kernow was at Castle Dore, he held a feast of fifteen days during the back-half of December; and all the brave warriors were gathered there. And indeed King Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, King of all the Britons one and all, was the honoured guest, and he sat at the right hand of King Mark. King Mark and King Arthur both wore three kingly things: a girdle of white bronze, a cloak of sable, torcs of gold about their throats. For there in the house of King Mark, neither the one king nor the other king had a shirt or shoes or arm rings or cloak or hosen whereby one was better than the other. For feasting, every class of excellent food was upon the board: there were not less than two stuffed roasted wild boars and ten, and under each one of the wild boars there was a great platter of silver, artfully carven; small cauldrons of bronze white and splendid, filled with mutton stew, were put every fourth place, for not one of the men need extend his arms far to get what pleased him; earthenware platters, with the warmth of the ovens, filled with fresh bread in a thousand shapes were placed between each two warriors; wooden trenchers, carven with great skill, were filled with fruits were upon King Mark’s board in plenty. Drinks: red wine, white wine, sweet mead, stout and all other drinks a plenty; flowed from the flaggons of the serving boys like a mountain cascade.
So many were the warriors: for there were greater numbers than of all the warriors of all the battles in the history of Britain; that one serving lad and three hundred poured out the drink for the guests; and one serving lass and three hundred set out and cleared the rapidly emptying plates for the guests. And one bard and three hundred, amongst whom the great Taliesin and Trammelpilae, who sang and played upon well tuned white wood harps; and one fiddler and three hundred , amongst whom Xristians le Meyteor and Bonnawen Ysmonion, who played upon flat backed, slope shouldered fiddles; and one piper and three hundred played upon loud and piercing bombardes, vociferous and powerful biniou, full and sweet chalumeaux, and gaitas, and dondanes, and piboules and tambours, and timpans, and tambourines and rib bones; playing reels, jiggs, strathspeys, and every other kind of dance and tune for the guests.
With the brave and alert warriors, sat their strong and lovely wives, as least, with those warriors that had wives. They all reclined at the same tables, as was the custom in King Mark’s castle. The fires, in their own places, burned high and hot; and on every side there were ornaments of green: wreathes of pine branch were placed upon the wooden columns. Holly branches and mistletoe were placed in every lovely place; and this pleased King Mark and everyone else; and they all enjoyed the feasting and merriment.
Upon the last night but two of King Mark’s feast, when the warriors and their wives were eating, this strange lad appeared before them all; and he was from the land of the Irish, across the sea. He wore a tunic of fine wool and a cloak of bear skin with a chain of white silver fastened about his fair throat. He wore a girdle of precious Cathay silk, of colours divers and splendid. King mark welcommed him thus, saying in a kingly voice: “Let there be with thee a welcome, o man of Ireland! Let there be to thee drink and victuals and excellent gifts and a good welcome!”
And the lad greeted them and gave King Mark and the others a welcome thus, saying: “Prosperity to thee, and all good things, o King Mark, honoured King over the Kernowmen, here in thy Castle Dore, thy wide and spacious feasting hall, and to thee o Arthur Pendragon, King over the Britons one and all; and a festive welcome to thy exceeding excellent and powerfull warriors, potent and masculine Wild Boars of the Isle of Prydain, sitting at meat upon couches of precious cedar, carven with great skill in Lebanon! I exhort you: o heroes, sons of heroes, and grand sons of heroes!, that ye not discover that your sweet roses were not truly biting and bitter weeds.” Saying this, he knelt deeply before the Kings.
That courteous and sharp fellow had captured the eyes of one and all there and no one in King Mark’s hall moved a muscle. Not one of the warriors ate his meal; not one of the women drank their wine or mead; not one of the serving lads poured drink; not one of the serving lasses cleared or replaced plates; not one of the bards, amongst whom the great Taliesin and Tremmelpilae, sang a lay or ballad, nor played upon their well tuned harps; not one fiddler, amongst whom Xristians le Meytoer and Bonnawen Ysmonion, played upon their flat backed sloped shouldered fiddles; not one of the pipers played one peep upon their powerful and sharp bombardes, their vociferous and loud biniou, neither their sweet and full chalumeaux, neither their gaitas, neither their dondannes, neither their piboules, neither their tambours, neither theirtimpani, neither their tambourines, neither their rib bones; neither did they play any reels or jiggs or strathspeys or any other kind of danse and tune for the guests.
The lad pulled from his sack a wand, long and graceful, made by a druid and filled with potent magick and marvellous powers. He held the wand forth in his right hand, that all might see; he flicked it, and lo! — it became a cloak of truly excellent quality and weave. One and all gaped with marvel; and he said to them: “Now, before you ye see a cloak; and it has this power: whatever married woman put on the cloak, and if there is any infidelity about her, we shall all know the truth.” And every warrior cast worried and doubtfull glances at their wives, as if to know if there were any inconstancy about their women.
Now, Gwenwhyfar of the golden locks, the lovely and radiant wife of King Arthur and Queen of the Britons, was the first to take up the adventure. She passed over the heather and herb bestrewn pavements like a heron over the lake: silent and elegant. When she put on the lad’s cloak, it shivvered from shoulder to toe, as if shaken by a tailor and his snips. At once, it was as long as it ought to be; then it was far too short. Once it was red, then the blue of the sky, and then black. “By all that’s holy! My own wife is unfaithful!” shouted King Arthur.
Queen Gwenhwyfar cast away the cloak in a fury, fleeing to her chambers; leaving the warriors and the women and the Kings to see her nakedness. She cursed the druid that made the cloak; and she thrice cursed the lad that brought it to Castle Dore, saying: “I would rather live in the wild lands, living my days under the green tree, than live here in thy hall, o King, derided by thee and thy warriors!”
Arthur’s seneschal, Cay by name, who was also at King Mark’s feast, called forth his wife: “Come nigh, my good woman! Stand thyself forth and prove of what sort thou art! But if thou are unfaithfull, set aside the adventure and spare me the infamy thou would win me!” The woman, dressed in divers colours, and addled somewhat by mead, tripped her way forth; and by this and that she came up to the lad and dressed herself in the robe. And now it was as the wings of a flying bird; and now like the wind blown leaves; and now it rested, leaving her entire backside bare to the eyes of the warriors, the women and the Kings. And all were made merry by this adventure, for Cay was not well loved, and they siezed the opportunity to make merry. The woman cast off the hated garment, and seeing her own nudity, fled following her Queen; leaving behind the derision of the warriors and the cloak. An old warrior Bard, whose spear had thrice been broken in battle, approached the lad and greeted him thus: “O beautiful man, I shall give thee excellent pastries and there shall be to thee an excellent feast, if thou but concent my wife to prove herself; for she is a lovely woman, and she has an excellent heart about her!” This was agreed; and she seemed a saintly woman, a gentlewoman, and she put on the cloak. When for a time it had set about the woman’s throat, without moving, the Bard smiled, a proud man. But lo! — the cloak disappeared! And there was one thread and one tassell to cover her. She cast aside the hated cloak and with penitent tears fled the place. But the Bard’s face was twisted with anguish and his eyes were lit with vengence.
Some other of the women also took up the adventure; and suffered the same doom and fate, as they laid bare their their infidelities. Unitl the brave and excellent Caratacos called forth his wife: “Go thou, my most beautiful Guimier, Chief Bard of my heart; the cloak shall be thine, for thou have not been at all unfaithful to me.”
With a slight blush, the most beautiful woman in the British Isle went forth with firm step, and took up the cloak. The cloak she laid upon her back, and it flickered. She said to the cloak: “Be still, thou cloak, and put no shame to me!” And lo! — it became still; and fit her like her own clear and radiant skin, accomodating to her with divine perfection; as if made by one of the tailors of the Summerlands. Many were the warriors who praised her with loud acclaim; and many were the women who prasied her likewise with loud acclaim.
Even so, there were some of the warriors who remained unpersuaded that the wife of the young warrior Caratacos could be the best woman in the British Isle. Lord Ereck, well versed in the ways of battle, was the chieftain of the dissenters; and he stood for King Arthur, saying that one of the more famous women ought to partake of the adventure; which would in part preserve preserve Arthur’s honour.
On the next night of the feast, that same cunning lad of the handsome face appeared before the warriors. He did not capture the eyes of all, but every man awaited some adventure. They expected some amelioration of the adventure of the previous night, with respect to Guimier. With a firm step, the lad stepped forth and greeted them all: “Wassail, wassail, o mighty and fierce warriors in the hall of King Mark map Merchion, over the Kernow about the Sea King, over King Iudal of Dumnonia Conqueror!” And to the doubters, the smiling lad said: “Here with me I have the head of a wild boar in my right hand, o excellent and brave warriors, and to it there is about it this quality: whatever woman that ask it ‘o bonny head of the boar, is there in me verity or naught but fallacy of the vilest sort?’, I say to you, he shall give us quick response. I took the body from the head myself, saying to it: ‘answer the truth’; and this adventure shall satisfy you.”
Again, not one of the warriors ate his meal; not one of the women drank their wine or mead; not one of the serving lads poured drink; not one of the serving lasses cleared or replaced plates; not one of the bards sang a lay or ballad, nor played upon their well tuned harps; not one fiddler played upon their flat backed sloped shouldered fiddles; not one of the pipers, amongst whom Patrick Molard and Jean-Michel Veillon played one peep upon their powerful and sharp bombardes, their vociferous and loud biniou, neither their sweet and full chalumeaux, neither their gaitas, neither their dondannes, neither their piboules, neither their tambours, neither their timpani, neither their tambourines, neither their rib bones; neither did they play any reels or jiggs or strathspeys or any other kind of danse and tune for the guests.
The lad of the fair arms, wearing a white tunic, opened a copper chest, carved on the sides with violent and warlike scenes. He drew out of the chest a thing wrapped in a covering; and that thing was the boars head, perfectly preserved, though it was a thousand years old.
“That suits me!” said Ceridwen, Ericks wife; “I shall prove the boys trickery!” Saying this, the boars head opened his eyes, while the woman approached, searching her most intimate places. She snatched the head violently from the lad; and when she had it, she asked, daring his response: “O bonny head of the boar, is there in me verity or naught but fallacy of the vilest sort?” In that very instant, the boars head gave her a response, calling out with the clear voice of a battle horn: “In thy heart there is not one speck of verity! There is fallacy of the worst sort! Thou are not a true woman! O great lady, ask the brothers Mattacos and Ittacos about thy fidelity.” The terrified warriors began to shout and talk at once; and some few of them looked down towards the brothers, but they hung their two heads with profound shame. Ceridwen flung the boars head from her and fled the hall, weeping for the great shame brought to herself and onto Erick.
Metroccos, foster brother of King Arthur sent his poor wife, Pendroga by name, to the boars head. She dragged her feet all the way to the well dressed lad standing nigh the boar whose head he held. The head opened his eyes and she moaned in fear. The head grinned at her toothily and she stood transfixed: “go forth, woman! Do as I told thee!” so commanded Metroccos from the high seat at table. Pendroga extended one trembling hand, and she fled before he could give any response; and he closed his eyes as if asleep. Ay! the poor guiltless woman!
As Guimier of the golden locks went to take up the head, a quiet came over. She asked him: “O bonny head of the boar boar, is there in me verity or naught but fallacy of the vilest sort? Am I not true to the Chief Bard of my heart?” Without any hesitation, the head opened his eyes and said: “O Guimier bonny and good of the white breast and green eye! There is not one sliver of a woman truer to the Chief Bard of her heart!” She placed the head upon the chest of copper, and it assumed its proper shape: a fierce and potent wild boar; leaping and careening about, bearing his teeth and rampaging on all sides! To spear and lance, to sword and shield the warriors and their warrior women grasped; while the serving lads and serving lasses fled from the white boar screaming in terror. All the hall was shattering chaos and clamour!
Mothers nine in Castle Dore gave acid milk, for every one that gave good milk; Children nine in Kernowland refused the tit, for every one that sucked;
Cats nine in all bonny Britain leapt and jigged, for every one that leapt and jigged not.
The hall was in tumult and confusion until he settled himself at Guimiers feet, docile as a cat, timid as a mouse.
Again there was much praise for this woman most meritorious. But also, there were warriors not satisfied at all; and the chief of these was Gawain, the bold and excellent pillar of King Arthurs honour, and that of the people of the tribes of Comrow. “These adventures have been for women of little fame! Ay, that a woman of great fame would take up the adventure!” Gawain said this, and many warriors demanded a new adventure.
And during the last night of the feast, the Irish fellow appeared before them all, and he greeted them: “O warriors of the Isle of Prydain, noble and steadfast, violent and furious; I greet you in the name of my Lady, Queen Maeve of Connaught! Listen well in this and prosper! I have at hand a horn of silver and white bronze, fashioned by Govan Dacc in the most ancient and remote of days in Ireland; when the folk of the goddess Dana yet lived there. And this horn has this quality about it: whatever married man blow upon it that has not any inconstancy about him at all, we shall all hear the truth, for he shall blow a clear clarion call. But beware the unfaithful man! If he touch to the horn his sordid lips, that have illicitly tasted the mouth of the folk of Eve, he shall send the mules of Prydain to infamous shame through his braying and rude farting. Behold! inasmuch as my Lady declared that the one adventure ought to suffice in ascertaining the qualities of the Grace of Prydain; therefore the third adventure shall be to these faithless men a great chastisement!” There was chaos and shouting and clamoring men when this news was heard; and they cast fell and deadly eyes to the lad, for they understood this adventure. King Arthur, who knew his men, and who now understood Maeve’s acicularity, said: “O Men of Prydain! Thereupon we had just put our own women to shame, during these two days, through the highbinding chicanery of Queen Maeve; therefore we must even finish with her game and take on the adventure!” Many and famous warriors warned the King against the Irish fellows deceptive games; yet King Arthur was not moved at all by their petitions.
Men went forth willy-nilly to take up the adventure of the bronze horn. Of all the men there in Marks hall, Arthur map Uther Pendragon, King of the Britons one and all, Master of the lands from Little Britain to Hadians Wall was the first; Gawain, chief of the warriors; Cuneglassus the Old; Cunedusius, Aquilifer of the King of the Corveri; King Mark over the Cornovi, whose wife was Yssolda, daughter of the High King of Ireland, not a man of little fame in that place; Morvutus, for whom every day was Mayday; Banuos, man of the sagella of Camelot; Lleits; Barduenos, husband of Barduena, daughter of the King of Little Britain; Brannos, chief pig keeper from Camatos; Aquila Creracarvos, who could leap ninety paces; the Great Wolf; Senex, husband of Iuuenis; Moruetos the Small, husband of Beccioluccota the Great; Kemper the Strong, a son of Little Britain; Senotiaccos for whom there were more lovers than wives, and more wives than fingers; Gereint Brokenspear, husband of Silvatecca, who could please no woman; and many others of less fame and lower honour. Each and every man failed the adventure; but Carataccos, Guimiers husband, did not fail, for he blew a clear note with the horn! And the horn had this quality to it: when Carataccos blew upon the horn, its resounding clarion recalled every warrior from across Britain away from the Land of Avallon, and they came to him. Now the Irish lad said to them: “O powerful and wild wolves of Britain! Do ye see not a woman of quality? A woman constant and true? If ye see her not now at all, with her good lord, ye shall never again see her in this life!”
This said, a great tempest of wind blew into the land and howled through the castle, and every fire and every light was quenced; and the Irish fellow disappeared; and again the hall was shouting and clamoring chaos. Many of the warriors shouted to the Kings: “Guimier and Carataccos are the cause of our downfall! Let us seek for ouselves vengence both swift and deadly, which to us is now due! We seek the lives of Guimier and Carataccos!” Such a clamour was not heard in Castle Dore in three hundred years; and Carataccos and Guimier fled: to the north Guimier and to the south Carataccos, without ever a word, without ever a glance. And when the warriors and trackers of the Kings could find neither the man nor the woman, the Kings called it the greatest hunt in the history of Britain, calling to the warriors and trackers of Kernow, Dewrow, Gaul, Belgium, Kemrow, Cumbria, Weneta, Pagus, Wenta, Lusitania, Tarracona, Narbonna and every other country.
Thus were the Britons brought low by the Irish lad!
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