Page:The Celtic Review volume 3.djvu/174

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AN OLD CYMKIC LEGEND
159

only a daughter, for they bethought themselves she was theirs to keep, whereas the vow bound them to deliver a man-child to the custody of the cave-dwellers, inasmuch as they feared the magical powers of the little folk were the pledge not fulfilled. And in truth an oath sworn before God was sacred to the Iberians. So the daughter grew up, and was so exceeding fair that she who had no name became known throughout the land of her kindred as ‘the more beautiful daughter of a beautiful mother.’ Yet was she nameless, for though there were not wanting those who wished the maiden for their own, she saw not the one man, because Love had not smiled upon her nor held her fast in his snare, therefore was she never the same for long enough that they should give her a name, for a most capricious damsel was this beauteous daughter of the chief. She was as the balmy cooing winds of the south that melteth the hearts of men for but a moment, then was she like unto the restless waves of the sea that tosseth to and fro, and anon she became as a hurricane which maketh sport of the land. Then the chieftain and his wife were very sorrowful, and together they led their daughter into the shadow of the oak-tree, where they besought their white-haired, white-robed druid that he should pray to the one great God on behalf of their wayward child. And as he prayed the rays of light descended from the habitation of the great God, and the glory thereof covered the maiden as with a mantle, and she became as the sun that lighteth the world on a May morning. Then there appeared in the shadow of the oak-tree a tall and comely youth with hair like unto fine gold, and eyes as blue as the summer sky, and Love walked beside him though he knew not that he was there, so secret are the ways of Love. When the youth beheld the beauteous maiden Love whispered to him sweet words, and the youth held out both arms to her, but of all the sweet words of love he remembered but one, and said he to the maiden, ‘Yngharad’—which, interpreted, is ‘My beloved’—and the maiden was no more nameless, for the son of a conqueror had come to her also, as unto her mother, and he was to her, the one man, as it is