Cornwall and Aber Henvelen. And when
they had looked, they were as conscious of all the evils they had ever
sustained, and of all the friends and companions they had lost, and of
all the misery that had befallen them, as if all had happened in that
very spot; {59a} and especially of the fate of their lord. And because
of their perturbation they could not rest, {59b} but journeyed forth with
the head towards London. And they buried the head in the White Mount,
and when it was buried, this was the third goodly concealment; and it was
the third ill-fated disclosure when it was disinterred, inasmuch as no
invasion from across the sea came to this Island, while the head was in
that concealment.

And thus is the story related of those who journeyed over from Ireland.

In Ireland none were left alive, except five pregnant women in a cave in
the Irish wilderness; and to these five women in the same night were born
five sons, whom they nursed until they became grown up youths. And they
thought about wives, and they at the same time desired to possess them,
and each took a wife of the mothers of their companions, and they
governed the country and peopled it.

And these five divided it amongst them, and because of this partition are
the five divisions of Ireland still so termed. And they examined the
land where the battles had taken place, and they found gold and silver
until they became wealthy.

And thus ends this portion of the Mabinogi, concerning the blow given to
Branwen, which was the third unhappy blow of this Island; and concerning
the entertainment of Bran, when the hosts of sevenscore countries and ten
went over to Ireland, to revenge the blow given to Branwen; and
concerning the seven years' banquet in Harlech, and the singing of the
birds of Rhiannon, and the sojourning of the head for the space of
fourscore years.

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MANAWYDDAN THE SON OF LLYR.

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When the seven men of whom we spoke above, had buried the head of
Bendigeid Vran, in the White Mount in London, with its face towards
France, Manawyddan gazed upon the town of London, and upon his
companions, and heaved a great sigh, and much grief and heaviness came
upon him. "Alas, Almighty Heaven, woe is me," he exclaimed, "there is
none save myself without a resting place this night." "Lord," said
Pryderi, "be not so sorrowful. Thy cousin is king of the Island of the
Mighty, and though he should do thee wrong