The Mabinogion Vol. 1 | Page 7

late in the afternoon,
when lo, they heard a mighty clamour in the Castle; and Owain asked
the maiden what that outcry was. "They are administering extreme
unction," said she, "to the Nobleman who owns the Castle." And Owain
went to sleep.
The couch which the maiden had prepared for him was meet for Arthur
himself; it was of scarlet, and fur, and satin, and sendall, and fine linen.
In the middle of the night they heard a woeful outcry. "What outcry
again is this?" said Owain. "The Nobleman who owned the Castle is
now dead," said the maiden. And a little after daybreak, they heard an
exceeding loud clamour and wailing. And Owain 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.
And it seemed to Owain that the sky resounded with the vehemence of
their cries, and with the noise of the trumpets, and with the singing of
the ecclesiastics. {29a} 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 {29b} Baron.
Never did Owain see an assemblage so gorgeous with satin, and silk,

and sendall. 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 clamour of the trumpets. {30} No sooner had he
beheld the lady, than he became inflamed with her love, so that it took
entire possession of him.
Then he enquired of the maiden who the lady was. "Heaven knows,"
replied the maiden, "she may be said to be the fairest, and the most
chaste, and the most liberal, and the wisest, and the most noble of
women. And 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."
And with that the maid arose, and kindled a fire, and filled a pot with
water, and placed it to warm; and she brought a towel of white linen,
and placed it around Owain's neck; and she took a goblet of ivory, and
a silver basin, and filled them with warm water, wherewith she washed
Owain's head. Then she opened a wooden casket, and drew forth a
razor, whose haft was of ivory, and upon which were two rivets of gold.
And she shaved his beard, and she dried his head, and his throat, with
the towel. Then she rose up from before Owain, and brought him to eat.
And truly Owain had never so good a meal, nor was he ever so well
served.
When he had finished his repast, the maiden arranged his couch.
"Come here," said she, "and sleep, and I will go and woo for thee." And
Owain went to sleep, and the maiden shut the door of the chamber after
her, 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 came and
saluted her, but the Countess answered her not. And the maiden bent

down towards her, and said, "What aileth thee, that thou answerest 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 having made thee rich; it was wrong in thee that thou didst
not come to see me in my distress. That was wrong in thee." "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