And the third day they returned to the palace.  And Yspadaden Penkawr said to them, “Shoot not at me again unless you desire death.  Where are my attendants?  Lift up the forks of my eyebrows, which have fallen over my eyeballs, that I may see the fashion of my son-in-law.”  Then they arose, and, as they did so, Yspadaden Penkawr took the third poisoned dart and cast it at them.  And Kilwich caught it, and threw it vigorously, and wounded him through the eyeball.  “A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly!  As long as I remain alive, my eyesight will be the worse.  Whenever I go against the wind, my eyes will water; and peradventure my head will burn, and I shall have a giddiness every new moon.  Like the bite of a mad dog is the stroke of this poisoned iron.  Cursed be the fire in which it was forged!” And they went to meat.

And the next day they came again to the palace, and they said, “Shoot not at us any more, unless thou desirest such hurt and harm and torture as thou now hast, and even more.”  Said Kilwich, “Give me thy daughter; and if thou wilt not give her, thou shalt receive thy death because of her.”  “Where is he that seeks my daughter?  Come hither where I may see thee.”  And they placed him a chair face to face with him.

Said Yspadaden Penkawr, “Is it thou that seekest my daughter?”

“It is I,” answered Kilwich.

“I must have thy pledge that thou wilt not do toward me otherwise than is just; and when I have gotten that which I shall name, my daughter thou shalt have.”

“I promise thee that willingly,” said Kilwich; “name what thou wilt.”

“I will do so,” said he.  “Seest thou yonder red tilled ground?”

“I see it.”

“When first I met the mother of this maiden, nine bushels of flax were sown therein, and none has yet sprung up, white nor black.  I require to have the flax to sow in the new land yonder, that when it grows up it may make a white wimple for my daughter’s head on the day of thy wedding.”

“It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think it will not be easy.”

“Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get—­ the harp of Teirtu, to play to us that night.  When a man desires that it should play, it does so of itself; and when he desires that it should cease, it ceases.  And this he will not give of his own free will, and thou wilt not be able to compel him.”

“It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think it will not be easy.”

“Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get.  I require thee to get me for my huntsman Mabon, the son of Modron.  He was taken from his mother when three nights old, and it is not known where he now is, nor whether he is living or dead.”

“It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think it will not be easy.”

“Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get—­ the two cubs of the wolf Gast Rhymhi; no leash in the world will hold them, but a leash made from the beard of Dillus Varwawc, the robber.  And the leash will be of no avail unless it be plucked from his beard while he is alive.  While he lives he will not suffer this to be done to him, and the leash will be of no use should he be dead, because it will be brittle.”