XIII.
The hero [98d] marched to Cattraeth with the day;
Truly [99a] he quaffed the white mead on serene nights; [99b]
Miserable, though success had been predicted, [99c]
Proved his mission, which he undertook through soaring ambition; [99d]
There hastened not to Cattraeth
A chief, with such a magnificent design of enterprize
Blazoned on his standard;
Never was there such a host
From the fort of Eiddin, [99e]
That would scatter abroad the mounted ravagers.
Tudvwlch Hir, [100a] deprived of [100b] his land and towns,
Slaughtered the Saxons for seven days; [100c]
His valour should have protected him in freedom; [100d]
His memory is cherished by his fair [100e] associates;
When Tudvwlch arrived, the supporter of the land, [100f]
The post of the son of Kilydd [100g] became a plain of blood.