Mule's Ears

March was the overlord of Lleyn. He had a great fortress at castellmarch, and he owned acres and acres of fertile lands. Hundreds of servants called him master, and he possessed horses cattle and sheep, pigs and Falcons. His oxen were so famous that king Arthur himself, sent to March to buy a yoke for his own use. So rich was March that he presented a herd of Oxen to the Great King. March sat in his room in Castellmarch. Before him were coffers filled with gold and precious stones. But March looked sad. Despite his wealth, he was not a happy man. March nursed a secret grief within his mind, and he feared night and day that it would be revealed. This was the secret; March had ears like a mule! No one knew except the barber who cut March’s hair. When Bifan was appointed to be March’s barber, the overlord called him aside and said: “You must swear an oath that you will no living creature of my misfortune. If you break that oath, either purposefully or by accident, I swear I will cut off your head.” Bifan promised that he would keep secret the fact that March had ears like a Mule. As time went by Bifan the barber grew very unhappy. At first he grew as unhappy as March. Then he grew even more unhappy, for his was the more evil plight. Bifan spoke to himself and said, “ If March reveals the secret he will suffer shame, a very sorry thing to endure. If I reveal the secret I will suffer death, a sorrier thing to endure,” Day and night Bifan brooded on the secret. He lost his appetite, and grew pale and wan. “I will call a doctor to attend to you,” said his wife. “No,” pleaded Bifan, but the doctor came. He looked at Bifan’s tongue and felt his pulse. “There is nothing wrong with your body, my good barber,” he said “something plagues your mind. Is that not so?” Bifan nodded his head, but he was afraid to open his mouth lest he should breathe one word of the awful secret. “Take my advice, Bifan,” said the doctor, as he clapped the barber on the shoulder,” “ tell your wife, else you will soon be dead.” Bifan tried to smile in answer. When the doctor had left the room he shuddered. Tell the secret to his wife Mallt? “ ’twere better that I proclaim the secret from the housetops,” he cried bitterly. Bifan walked along the shore, and then he walked over the hill. If only I were rid of the awful secret! But he thought what would befall him if he told the secret to anyone. Sadly he rubbed his neck to see if his head was still attached to his shoulders. He strode down to the village. He would take the risk, and tell the secret to the doctor. “What bring s you here?” asked the doctor impatiently. “I am a busy man, and have no time to waste on your foolishness.” “The secret;” Bifan began. “If it’s that precious secret,” said the doctor angrily “go far away and tell it to the earth. The earth will keep faith with you, and reveal your secret to no man.” He hastened away. Bifan stood thinking over what the doctor had advised. “It is good advice,” he said at length. “I will climb to the loneliest part of the hill and I will whisper my secret to the earth.” This Bifan did. Immediately he was happier. He returned home, recovered his appetite, grew rosy and fat, and was so kind and considerate to his wife Mallt, that she went round the countryside declaring that Dr Prydderch was a very able man. Bifan had whispered the secret to the earth. There in the darkness, he had not seen the reeds growing. He did not give the matter another thought. He had told his secret and was now a happy man. March was preparing a great feast to welcome the other overlords of Wales to Castellmarch. He had many minstrels, but in honour of his guests he sent to Gwynedd to borrow from Prince Maelgwyn, the piper Enoc. So renowned was Enoc’s skill that he had played his pipe in the courts of all the kings of Europe. Enoc set out for Castellmarch in answer to March’s invitation. The piper carried his pipe and played it as he walked across the hills. “I will get myself a new pipe,” said Enoc. He cut himself a new pipe on the hillock where Bifan had knelt and told his secret to the earth. “A fine pipe!” exclaimed Enoc. “This is the finest pipe I have ever possessed. It will not play the sweetest music. I will not play it until I play for the great guests in the feast.” When the guests had eaten, March gave an order that Enoc should ascend the dais and entertain all the guests in the great hall with his music. Enoc raised the new pipe to his lips. Great was the astonishment of all within the hall when there came from the pipe not sweet music but the words; “March has Mule’s ears! March has Mule’s ears! March has Mule’s ears!” March rose in anger and drew his sword. “I will kill thee, thou mad piper!” he cried. “Mercy sire!” begged Enoc. The courtiers intervened. Enoc recovered his breath, and pleading on his knees said; “My lord, it is not my fault. I have tried to play the usual music on this pipe. The pipe must be bewitched. It will utter nothing but the words, “March has Mule’s ears” “Give me the pipe,” said March. The hall was hushed, and in the silence March blew. “March has Mule’s ears! March has Mule’s ears!” uttered the pipe. Slowly and fearfully Bifan made his way to the dais and told the king how the reed pipe had come to know the secret. “I will pardon the barber and the piper,” said March sadly. “The secret is now told.” But his shame was forgotten in the applause that rang to the rafters: “March is ever merciful! March is ever merciful!

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