Branwen, Daughter of Llyr

Greetings to you, lords and ladies. I am Branwen, daughter of Llyr. My brother, Bendigied (“Blessed”) Vran, was the ruler of my homeland, Britain. He was also once the possessor of what may possibly be the “grail” for which we search. But read first what I have to say, of how this “grail”—what I think to be a cauldron—became entwined with my fate and woe.
One day, my king and brother Bendigied Vran was conversing with our brothers Nissyan and Evnissyan. Of Nissyan I was always quite fond; he had a way of smoothing over any argument, however heated. Evnissyan, however—what a brash, ill-tempered man! It is Evnissyan who I fear had the greatest hand in my misfortune. But first, to my husband. Yes, as my dear brother looked out from his island, he beheld thirteen ships sailing from Ireland. He sent men from his court to discover these ships’ intent, and the men were met by my suitor and future husband: Matholwch, King of Ireland.
Yes, as a maiden I was quite desirable. I was one of the three chief ladies of the island, and I was said to be “the fairest damsel in the world.” Bendigied Vran was pleased that I should have a king for a husband, so Matholwch and I were married at Aberffraw. However, after our day of feasting and merriment, my brother Evnissyan discovered that I had been married without his consent. Enraged, he disfigured Matholwch’s horses, cutting off their lips, ears, tails, and eyelids! Thus insulted, Matholwch left my brother Bendigied Vran’s court without his leave. When my brother learned of the insult, he promised that Matholwch would receive for his atonement a silver staff, a gold plate, and a host of horses to match those that had been disfigured. Matholwch accepted, but still seemed dissatisfied. Thus, my brother Bendigied Vran offered him the cauldron saying, “the property of which is, that if one of thy men be slain today, and be cast therein, tomorrow he will be as well as ever he was at best, except that he will not regain his speech.” This cauldron came from the Lake of the Cauldron in Ireland, and was carried out from this lake by giant yellow-haired man named Llassar Llaesgyvnewid.
I journeyed to Ireland with my husband Matholwch, and there I enjoyed a year of happiness. I gave birth to a son, Gwern, and sent him to be foster-nursed. Soon after, Matholwch’s foster-brothers rose against him, blaming him for the insult he had suffered by my brother Evnissyan. These men drove me from my husband’s chamber and forced me to cook for the Court. Every day, the Court’s butcher gave me a blow to the ear—a source of constant pain.
Desperate to escape my plight, I raised a small starling, taught it to speak, taught it to recognize my brother Bendigeid Vran, and sent it off toward Britain with a letter for my brother.
Not long after, messengers came from my husband, asking for an interpretation for something they’d seen. They told me of a wood upon the sea, and beside a vast, moving mountain. I told them that surely it was men from my homeland, the Island of the Mighty, who had come to save me from my woes. You see, my brother Bendigeid Vran is a man of huge stature, and I knew the mountain was he.
Matholwch and his council fled from my brother, breaking apart a bridge under which flowed a river that neither ship nor vessel could pass over. This did not stop my brother, Bendigeid Vran. He laid himself across from shore to shore, allowing his host to cross over him. After this, Matholwch promised to give his kingdom to our son Gwern, but Bendigeid Vran was not satisfied. Then, my husband sent a message promising my brother a house large enough to contain him; I advised him to accept the offer, in order to save the country.
When my brother’s host met my husband’s in the house Matholwch built for Bendigeid Vran, my brother Evnissyen, cruel as he was, killed my poor son Gwern! He threw him into the fire! I tried my best to follow after my son, my precious child, but my brother Bendigeid Vran restrained me.
Evnissyen had also slaughtered many Irishmen; these the Irish threw into the cauldron of renovation, and the bodies were renewed, ready to battle my kinsmen. Evnissyan was thrown into the cauldron, where he stretched himself so as to break the cauldron into pieces, bursting also his own heart.
Only seven of my kinsmen survived, including Pryderi, Manawyddan, Gluneu Eil Taran, Taliesin, Ynawc, Grudyen, and Heilyn. Bendigeid Vran also survived, but with a foot poisoned by a dart. He commanded the survivors to cut off his head and bury it at the White Mount in London. I was the eighth to go on the journey, and so sorrowful was I to be the cause of two islands destroyed! My heart broke; yes, I speak to you now in spirit only. I have been buried, and speak to you of the cauldron as a thing that has passed.