"And is your friend going to market too?" said I.
"My friend goes with me to a.s.sist me and bear me company. If I buy a pig he will help me to drive it home; if a horse, he will get up upon its back behind me. I might perhaps do without him, but I enjoy his company highly. He is sometimes rather indiscreet, but I do a.s.sure you he is exceedingly clever."
"The greatest prydydd," said the man of the bulged shoe, "the greatest prydydd in the world."
"O, I have no doubt of his cleverness," said I, "from what I have observed of him. Now before I go allow me to pay for your next jug of ale."
"I will do no such thing," said the man in grey. "No farthing do you pay here for me or my friend either. But I will tell you what you may do. I am, as I have told you, an innkeeper as well as a bard. By the time you get to L- you will be hot and hungry and in need of refreshment, and if you think proper to patronize my house, the - Arms by taking your chop and pint there, you will oblige me. Landlord, some more ale."
"The greatest prydydd," said he of the bulged shoe, "the greatest prydydd-"
"I will most certainly patronize your house," said I to the man in grey, and shaking him heartily by the hand I departed.
CHAPTER x.x.xVIII
Inn at L-The Handmaid-The Decanter-Religious Gentleman-Truly Distressing-Sententiousness-Way to Pay Bills.
I proceeded on my way in high spirits indeed, having now seen not only the tomb of the Tudors, but one of those sober poets for which Anglesey has always been so famous. The country was pretty, with here and there a hill, a harvest-field, a clump of trees or a grove. I soon reached L-, a small but neat town. "Where is the - Arms?" said I to a man whom I met.
"Yonder, sir, yonder," said he, pointing to a magnificent structure on the left.
I went in and found myself in a s.p.a.cious hall. A good-looking young woman in a white dress, with a profusion of pink ribbons confronted me with a curtsey. "A pint and a chop!" I exclaimed, with a flourish of my hand and at the top of my voice. The damsel gave a kind of start, and then, with something like a toss of the head, led the way into a very large room, on the left, in which were many tables, covered with snowy-white cloths, on which were plates, knives and forks, the latter seemingly of silver, tumblers, and winegla.s.ses.
"I think you asked for a pint and a chop, sir?" said the damsel, motioning me to sit down at one of the tables.
"I did," said I, as I sat down, "let them be brought with all convenient speed, for I am in something of a hurry."
"Very well, sir," said the damsel, and then with another kind of toss of the head, she went away, not forgetting to turn half round, to take a furtive glance at me, before she went out of the door.
"Well," said I, as I looked at the tables, with their snowy-white cloths, tumblers, wine-gla.s.ses and what not, and at the walls of the room glittering with mirrors, "surely a poet never kept so magnificent an inn before; there must be something in this fellow besides the awen, or his house would never exhibit such marks of prosperity, and good taste-there must be something in this fellow; though he pretends to be a wild erratic son of Parna.s.sus, he must have an eye to the main chance, a genius for turning the penny, or rather the sovereign, for the accommodation here is no penny accommodation, as I shall probably find. Perhaps, however, like myself, he has an exceedingly clever wife who whilst he is making verses, or running about the country swigging ale with people in bulged shoes, or buying pigs or glandered horses, looks after matters at home, drives a swinging trade, and keeps not only herself, but him respectable-but even in that event he must have a good deal of common sense in him, even like myself, who always allow my wife to buy and sell, carry money to the bank, draw cheques, inspect and pay tradesmen"s bills, and transact all my real business, whilst I myself pore over old books, walk about shires, discoursing with gypsies, under hedgerows, or with sober bards-in hedge alehouses." I continued musing in this manner until the handmaid made her appearance with a tray, on which were covers and a decanter, which she placed before me. "What is that?" said I, pointing to a decanter.
"Only a pint of sherry, sir," said she of the white dress and ribbons.
"Dear me," said I, "I ordered no sherry, I wanted some ale-a pint of ale."
"You called for a pint, sir," said the handmaid, "but you mentioned no ale, and I naturally supposed that a gentleman of your appearance"-here she glanced at my dusty coat-"and speaking in the tone you did, would not condescend to drink ale with his chop; however, as it seems I have been mistaken, I can take away the sherry and bring you the ale."
"Well, well," said I, "you can let the sherry remain; I do not like sherry, and am very fond of ale, but you can let the wine remain; upon the whole I am glad you brought it. Indeed, I merely came to do a good turn to the master of the house."
"Thank you, sir," said the handmaid.
"Are you his daughter?" said I.
"O no, sir," said the handmaid reverently; "only his waiter."
"You may be proud to wait on him," said I.
"I am, sir," said the handmaid, casting down her eyes.
"I suppose he is much respected in the neighbourhood?" said I.
"Very much so, sir," said the damsel, "especially amidst the connection."
"The connection," said I. "Ah I see, he has extensive consanguinity, most Welsh have. But," I continued, "there is such a thing as envy in the world, and there are a great many malicious people in the world, who speak against him."
"A great many, sir, but we take what they say from whence it comes."
"You do quite right," said I. "Has your master written any poetry lately?"
"Sir!" said the damsel, staring at me.
"Any poetry," said I, "any pennillion?"
"No, sir," said the damsel; "my master is a respectable man, and would scorn to do anything of the kind."
"Why," said I, "is not your master a bard as well as an innkeeper?"
"My master, sir, is an innkeeper," said the damsel; "but as for the other, I don"t know what you mean."
"A bard," said I, "is a prydydd, a person who makes verses-pennillion; does not your master make them?"
"My master make them? No, sir; my master is a religious gentleman, and would scorn to make such profane stuff."
"Well," said I, "he told me he did within the last two hours. I met him at Dyffryn Gaint, along with another man, and he took me into the public-house, where we had a deal of discourse."
"You met my master at Dyffryn Gaint?" said the damsel.
"Yes," said I, "and he treated me with ale, told me that he was a poet, and that he was going to Bangor to buy a horse or a pig."
"I don"t see how that could be, sir," said the damsel; "my master is at present in the house, rather unwell, and has not been out for the last three days. There must be some mistake."
"Mistake," said I. "Isn"t this the - Arms?"
"Yes, sir, it is."
"And isn"t your master"s name W-?"
"No, sir, my master"s name is H-, and a more respectable man-"
"Well," said I, interrupting her, "all I can say is that I met a man in Dyffryn Gaint, who treated me with ale, told me that his name was W-, that he was a prydydd and kept the Arms at L-."
"Well," said the damsel, "now I remember there is a person of that name in L-, and he also keeps a house which he calls the - Arms, but it is only a public-house."
"But," said I, "is he not a prydydd, an ill.u.s.trious poet; does he not write pennillion which everybody admires?"