Lady Of The Lake (Bedtime Story From Wales)

The Ladies of the Lake are mythical beings in Welsh folklore who are said to inhabit secluded bodies of water such as lakes, rivers, and ponds. They are often depicted as beautiful women who lure unsuspecting men to their watery dwellings with promises of love and treasure. Some tales portray them as benevolent spirits who grant wishes to those who are pure of heart, while others depict them as vengeful creatures who drown those who dare to trespass on their territory.

This story tells of a man who fell in love with a lady of a lake and what came of that.

Transcript

Lady of the Lake A bedtime story from Wales A favourite place for the elfin ladies is high up in one of the freshwater mountain ponds.

There are cousins to the mermaids that swim in the salt water.

They say that these lake maidens love to come up close to smell the sweet grass and flowers which the cows like so much.

In one of these lakes dwelt a widow with only one son,

Named Gwyn.

One day he took his lunch of barley bread and cheese and went out,

As usual,

To tend the cows.

Soon he saw rising out of the water the most beautiful lady he had ever seen.

In her hand she hold a golden comb and was using the bright lake surface as a mirror.

At once Gwyn fell in love with her.

Like an unselfish lad,

Had out his refreshments,

Barley bread and cheese,

All he had,

Bidding her to come and take.

But though the lady glided toward him while he still hold out his hand,

She shook her head saying,

Oh,

Too,

Of the hard-baked bread,

It is not easy to catch me.

Angry enough to miss such a prize,

He hurried home to tell his mother.

She,

Wondering also whether fairies have teeth to chew,

Told him to take soft dough next time.

Then perhaps a strange lady would come again.

Not much sleep did the boy get that night,

And before the sun was up he was down by the lake holding out his dough.

There neglecting the cows,

He looked eagerly over the water,

But nothing appeared except ripples started by the breeze.

Again and again he gazed in hope,

Meanwhile he thought out a pretty speech to make to her.

It was late in the afternoon when the trees on the hills were casting long shadows,

That he gave up watching,

For he supposed she would come no more.

But just as he started to go back to his mother's cabin,

He turned his head and there was the same lady,

Looking more beautiful than ever.

In a moment he forgot every word he meant to say to her,

His tongue seemed to leave him.

The lady,

Shaking her head,

Only laughed and said,

Two of the soft bread,

I will not have thee.

Though she dived under the water and left him sad,

She smiled so sweetly that though again disappointed,

He thought she would come again and she might yet accept his gift.

His mother taught him to try her with bread half-baked,

That is midway between hard crust and soft dough.

So having packed his lunch and much excited,

Though this time with bright hopes,

Quinn went to bed.

At dawn he was up again,

And out by the lakeside with his half-baked bread in his hand.

It was a day of rain and shine,

Of sunburst and cloud,

But no lady appeared.

The long hours of watching and waiting sped on until it was nearly dark.

When just about to turn homewards to ease his mother's anxiety,

What should he see but some cows walking on the surface of the water?

In a few minutes the lady herself,

Lovelier than ever,

Rose up and moved towards the shore.

Quinn rushed out to meet her,

This time she graciously took the gift,

Placed her other hand in his,

And he led her to the shore.

Standing with her on land,

He could not speak for many seconds.

He noticed that she had sandals on her feet,

And the one on the right foot was tied in a way rather unusual.

Under her winsome smile at last he regained the use of his tongue,

Then he burst out.

Lady,

I love you,

More than all the words besides.

Will you be my wife?

She did not seem at all willing at first,

But love begets love.

Finally yelding to his pleadings,

She said at a solemnly,

I will be your bride,

But only on this condition that if you strike me three times without cause,

I will leave your house and you only will be to blame,

And it will be forever.

These words stuck in his mind,

And he inwardly made a vow never to give his lovely wife cause to leave him.

But not yet did happiness come,

For even while he took oath that he would rather cut off his right hand than offend her,

She darted away like an arrow,

And diving in the lake disappeared.

At this sudden blow to his hopes and joy,

Quinn was so sorely depressed as to wish to take his own life,

He was just about to leap into the water and drown himself,

When he heard a voice behind him saying,

Hold rush,

Lad.

Come here.

He looked,

And there down on the shore of the lake stood a grand-looking old man with a long white beard.

On either side of him was a lovely maiden.

These were his daughters.

Trembling with fear,

The lad slipped down from the rock and drew near.

Then the old man spoke comfortably to him,

Mortal,

Do you wish to marry one of my daughters?

Show me the one you love more than the other,

And I will consent.

Now the two maidens were so beautiful,

Yet so exactly alike,

That Quinn could not note any difference.

As he looked,

He began to wonder whether it had been a different lady in each case that rose out of the water.

He looked beyond the old man to see if they were a third lady.

When he saw no more,

He became more distracted.

He feared he might choose the wrong one,

Who had not promised to love him.

But in despair he was about to run home,

When he noticed that one of the maidens put forward her right foot.

Then he saw that her sandal was tied in the way he had already wondered at.

So he boldly went forward and took her by the hand.

This one is mine,

Said he to the father.

You are right,

Answered the old man.

This is my daughter.

Take her and you shall have as many cattle,

Sheep,

Horses,

Hogs and goats as she can count without throwing in her bread.

But I warn you that three blows without cause will send her back to me.

While the old man smiled,

And Quinn renewed his vow,

The new wife began to count by fives.

One,

Two,

Three,

Four,

Five.

At the end of each count,

Throwing in a fresh bread,

There rose up out of the lake as many sheep,

Cattle,

Goats,

Pigs and horses as she had counted.

So it happened that the lad who went out of his mother's cottage in the morning came back to her as a rich man,

And leading by the hand the loveliest creature of whom man or woman had ever looked upon.

As for the old man and the other daughter,

No one ever saw them again.

Quinn and his wife went out to a farm which he bought.

How happy they were!

She was very kind to the poor.

She had the gift of healing,

Knew all the herbs,

Which were good for medicine and cured sick folk of their diseases.

Three times the cradle was filled,

Eight long and happy years followed.

They loved each other so dearly and were so happy together that Quinn's vow passed entirely out of his mind,

And he thought no more of it.

On the seventh birthday of the oldest boy there was a wedding at some distance away,

And the father and mother walked through a field where their horses were grazing.

As it was far for Lady Nelfresh to walk all the way,

Her husband went back to the house for saddle and bridle while she could catch the horse.

Please do and bring me my gloves from off the table,

She called,

As he turned towards the house.

But when he returned to the field he saw that she had not steered,

So before handing his wife her gloves and pointing playfully to the horses,

He gave her a little flick with the gloves.

Instead of moving instantly,

She heaved a deep sigh.

Then looking up at him with sorrowful and reproachful eyes,

She said,

Remember your vow,

Quinn,

May there never be another.

Days and years passed away so happily that the husband and father never again had to recall the promise,

But when they were invited to the christening of a baby,

Everyone was full of smiles and gaiety except Nelfresh.

Women,

Especially the older ones,

Often cry at the wedding,

But why his wife should burst into tears,

Puzzled Quinn.

Tapping her on the shoulder he asked the reason.

Because,

Said she,

This weak baby will be in pain and misery all its days and die in agony.

And,

Husband dear,

You have once again struck me a causeless blow.

Oh,

Do be on your guard,

And not again break your promise.

From this time forth Quinn was on watch over himself,

Day and night,

Like a sentinel over whom hangs descendants of dead.

Should he fall asleep on duty,

He was ever vigilant,

He in a moment of forgetfulness might by some slip of conduct,

Or in a moment of forgetfulness,

Strike his dear wife.

The baby whose life of pain and death of agony Nelfresh had foretold soon passed away for happily its life was short.

Then she and her husband attended the last rites of sorrow,

For Celtic folk always have funeral and hold awake,

Even when a baby,

Only a span long,

Lies in the coffin.

Yet in the most solemn moment of the services of burial,

Nelfresh laughed out so long and with such merriment that everyone was startled.

Her husband,

Mortified at such improper behavior,

Touched her gently,

Saying,

Hush,

Wife,

Why do you laugh?

Because the baby is free from all pain,

And you have twice struck me.

Farewell.

Fleeing like a deer home of their farm,

She got together by its name each and every one of their animals from stable and fields.

Yes,

Even those harnessed to the plough.

When over the mountain all moved in procession,

There they plunged in and vanished.

No trace of them was left,

Except that made by oxen throwing the plough,

At which mark on the ground men still point out.

Broken-hearted and mad with grief,

Gwyn rushed into the lake,

And was seen no more.

The three sons,

Grieving over their drowned father,

Spent many days wandering along the lakeside,

Hoping once more to see their dear parents.

Their love was rewarded.

They never saw their father again,

But one day their mother,

Nelfresh,

Suddenly appeared out of the water,

Telling her children that her mission on earth was to relieve pain and misery.

She took them to a point in the lake where many plants grew that were useful in medicine.

There she often came and taught them the virtues of the roots,

Leaves,

Juices,

And the various virtues of the herbs,

And healed those who had diseases.

Sons became physicians of fame and power.

Their descendants during many centuries were renowned for their skill in easing pain and saving life.

To this day,

Sishen's Point is shown to visitors as a famous spot,

And in tradition it is almost holy.

Reviews

Hapless man… but her generosity lived on. Thank you🙏🏽❤️