which three
hundred heroes, fresh, young, and noble, have not passed on the way to
Terrible Valley, and never have I seen one coming back, and each of them
had the look of a man better than you. And now where are you going,
Arthur?"

"I am on the same journey with my brother."

"Where are you going, Lawn Dyarrig?"

"I am going with these as a servant," said Lawn Dyarrig.

"God's help to you, it's bad clothing that's on your body," said the
woman. "And now I will speak to Ur. A day and a year since a champion
passed this way. He wore a suit as good as was ever above ground. I had
a daughter sewing there in the open window. He came outside, put a
finger under her girdle, and took her with him. Her father followed
straightway to save her, but I have never seen daughter nor father from
that day to this. That man was the Green Knight of Terrible Valley. He
is better than all the men that could stand on a field a mile in length
and a mile in breadth. If you take my advice you'll turn back and go
home to your father."

'Tis how she vexed Ur with this talk, and he made a vow to himself to go
on. When Ur did not agree to turn home, the woman said to Lawn Dyarrig,
"Go back to my chamber; you'll find in it the apparel of a hero."

He went back, and there was not a bit of the apparel he did not go into
with a spring.

"You may be able to do something now," said the woman, when Lawn Dyarrig
came to the front. "Go back to my chamber and search through all the old
swords. You will find one at the bottom. Take that."

He found the old sword, and at the first shake that he gave he knocked
seven barrels of rust out of it; after the second shake it was as bright
as when made.

"You may be able to do well with that," said the woman. "Go out, now, to
that stable abroad, and take the slim white steed that is in it. That
one will never stop nor halt in any place till he brings you to the
Eastern World. If you like, take these two men behind you; if not, let
them walk. But I think it is useless for you to have them at all with
you."

Lawn Dyarrig went out to the stable, took the slim white steed, mounted,
rode to the front, and catching the two brothers, planted them on the
horse behind him.

"Now, Lawn Dyarrig," said the woman, "this horse will never stop till he
stands on the little white meadow in the Eastern World. When he stops,
you'll come down, and cut the turf under his beautiful right front
foot."

The horse started f