he had everything to fear from Kerridwen: so he fled, leaving the cauldron to burst from the virulence of its contents. Kerridwen pursued Gwion, and it went so hard with him that he had to assume various forms, but always with the result of being checkmated by her: at last, beholding a heap of wheat, he dropped into it in the shape of a grain, whereupon she changed herself into a crested black hen, found him out and devoured him. In due time he was born again, and with such a fair face that Kerridwen his mother had not the heart to destroy him, so she had him wrapped in a hide and cast into the sea; the hide was picked up at Aberdovey on one of the stakes of Gwyᵭno's weir on the Calends of May, under the following circumstances. It was usual to find in the weir the value of a hundred pounds every First of May, so that year Gwyᵭno gave it to a hapless son of his called Elphin, who accordingly went with his men to examine the weir at the proper time. Their disappointment was so great that one of them said to Elphin that he had never till then been really luckless, when he had broken off the luck of the weir. Observing the hide on the weir, Elphin said: 'This may contain the value of a hundred pounds.' The man engaged in opening it exclaimed, on beholding a child's forehead, 'Here is a charming forehead (tal iessin)!' 'Taliessin[1] let him be,' said Elphin, lifting the boy with his hands and bewailing his lack of luck. Presently the baby Taliessin sang a poem to console Elphin in his disappointment;
- ↑ Elphin's reply is ambiguous: if read Tàl iessin, it means 'fine forehead,' but if Tâl iessin, 'fine pay;' while read as one word, the distinction would be lost; but the story as it proceeds implies tál, 'pay or profit:' see Guest, iij. 328, 363.
