cording to the compact, {111c} he meditated a convenient attack,
And would boast {111d} of a pile of carcases
Of gallant men of toil,
Whom in the upper part of Gwynedd {111e} he pierced.

XX.

I drank of the wine and the mead of the Mordei,
And because I drank, I fell by the edge of a gleaming sword, {112a}
Not without desiring a hero's prowess; {112b}
And when all fell, thou didst also fall. {112c}
Thus when the issue comes, it were well not to have sinned.
Present, in his thrusting course, showed a bold and mighty arm. {112d}

XXI.

The heroes who marched to Cattraeth were renowned,
Wine and mead out of golden goblets was their beverage,
That year was to them one of exalted solemnity,
Three hundred and sixty-three chieftains, wearing the golden torques;
{113a}
Of those who hurried forth after the excess of revelling,
But three escaped by valour from the funeral fosse, {113b}
The two war-dogs {114a} of Aeron, and Cynon the dauntless, {114b}
And myself, from the spilling of blood, the reward of my candid song.
{114c}

XXII.

My friend in real distress, we should have been by none disturbed,
Had not the white-bannered commander {115a} led forth his army;
We should not {115b} have been separated in the hall from the banquet of
mead,
Had he not laid waste our convenient groves; {115c}
He crept into the martial field, he crept into our families. {115d}
The Gododin relates how that, after the fight in the fosse,
When we had no dwellings, {116a} none were more destitute. {116b}

XXIII.

Scattered, broken, motionless is the weapon, {116c}
That used to penetrate through the great horde, {116d} the numerous
{117a} horde of the Lloegrians. {117b}
Shields were strewn on the sea coast, {117c} shields in the battle of
lances;
Men were reduced to ashes, {117d}
And women rendered widows,
Before his death. {117e}
O Graid, son of Hoewgi, {117f}
With thy spears
Didst thou cause an effusion of blood.

XXIV.

There was the hero, with both his shoulders covered, {118a}
By a variegated shield, and possessing the swiftness of a warlike steed;
There was a noise in the mount of slaughter, {118b} there was fire,
{118c}
Impetuous were the lances, there was a sunny gleam, {118d}
There was food for ravens, the raven there did triumph, {118e}
And before he would let them go free,
With the morning dew, like the eagle in his glad course,
He scattered them on either side, and like a billow overwhel