supplying us with an alternative explanation of the term Fer Bolg or Bag-man. This is all the more permissible as the giant conquered by Llûᵭ seems to survive in Welsh nurseries under the name of Sión y Cydau, or Jack with the Bags; for I have a lively recollection of being more than once threatened with the unwelcome advent of that formidable croque-mitaine, who, as I had been given to understand, dearly loved to chuck little boys into his bags and carry them away to his cave.
The remaining scourge was more terrible than the other two, and is described as a shout raised over every hearth in Britain on the eve of every First Day of May. It went through the hearts of the men, we are told, frightening them so much that they lost their colour and strength, and their women their expectations, while the young of both sexes lost their senses through it, and general fruitlessness overcame the beasts of the field, the woods, the fields and the waters.[1] The story proceeds to trace this mischief to the attempt of the dragon of a foreign race to overcome that of Britain. But in one of the Triads, iij. 11, the scourge so explained is distinguished from that of the First of May—the two accounts are not essentially inconsistent—and the latter is there further described as that of March Malaen. This is more usually written March Malen, 'the Steed of Malen,' and it enters into a proverb, 'A gasgler ar farch Malen dan ei dor yᵭ a;' that is to say, 'What is collected on Malen's horse's back will find its way under his belly,' or, as it is better known in English, 'What is got on the devil's back will be spent under his belly.' How
- ↑ R. B. Mab. p. 94; Guest, iij. 308.
