书城公版Wild Wales
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第212章 CHAPTER XCI(2)

Better for thee thy boughs to wave, Though scath'd, above Ab Gwilym's grave, Than stand in pristine glory drest Where some ignobler bard doth rest;I'd rather hear a taunting rhyme From one who'll live through endless time, Than hear my praises chanted loud By poets of the vulgar crowd."I had left the churchyard, and was standing near a kind of garden, at some little distance from the farm-house, gazing about me and meditating, when a man came up attended by a large dog. He had rather a youthful look, was of the middle size, and dark complexioned. He was respectably dressed, except that upon his head he wore a common hairy cap.

"Good evening," said I to him in Welsh.

"Good evening, gentleman," said he in the same language.

"Have you much English?" said I.

"Very little; I can only speak a few words.""Are you the farmer?"

"Yes! I farm the greater part of the Strath.""I suppose the land is very good here?"

"Why do you suppose so?"

"Because the monks built their house here in the old time, and the monks never built their houses except on good land.""Well, I must say the land is good; indeed I do not think there is any so good in Shire Aberteifi.""I suppose you are surprised to see me here; I came to see the old Monachlog.""Yes, gentleman; I saw you looking about it.""Am I welcome to see it?"

"Croesaw! gwr boneddig, croesaw! many, many welcomes to you, gentleman!""Do many people come to see the monastery?"FARMER. - Yes! many gentlefolks come to see it in the summer time.

MYSELF. - It is a poor place now.

FARMER. - Very poor, I wonder any gentlefolks come to look at it.

MYSELF. - It was a wonderful place once; you merely see the ruins of it now. It was pulled down at the Reformation.

FARMER. - Why was it pulled down then?

MYSELF. - Because it was a house of idolatry to which people used to resort by hundreds to worship images. Had you lived at that time you would have seen people down on their knees before stocks and stones, worshipping them, kissing them, and repeating pennillion to them.

FARMER. - What fools! How thankful I am that I live in wiser days.

If such things were going on in the old Monachlog it was high time to pull it down.

MYSELF. - What kind of a rent do you pay for your land?

FARMER. - Oh, rather a stiffish one.

MYSELF. - Two pounds an acre?

FARMER. - Two pound an acre! I wish I paid no more!

MYSELF. - Well, I think that would be quite enough. In the time of the old monastery you might have had the land at two shillings an acre.

FARMER. - Might I? Then those couldn't have been such bad times, after all.

MYSELF. - I beg your pardon! They were horrible times - times in which there were monks and friars and graven images, which people kissed and worshipped and sang pennillion to. Better pay three pounds an acre and live on crusts and water in the present enlightened days than pay two shillings an acre and sit down to beef and ale three times a day in the old superstitious times.

FARMER. - Well, I scarcely know what to say to that.

MYSELF. - What do you call that high hill on the other side of the river?

FARMER. - I call that hill Bunk Pen Bannedd.

MYSELF. - Is the source of the Teivi far from here?

FARMER. - The head of the Teivi is about two miles from here high up in the hills.

MYSELF. - What kind of place is the head of the Teivi?

FARMER. - The head of the Teivi is a small lake about fifty yards long and twenty across.

MYSELF. - Where does the Teivi run to?

FARMER. - The Teivi runs to the sea, which it enters at a place which the Cumri call Aber Teivi and the Saxons Cardigan.

MYSELF. - Don't you call Cardiganshire Shire Aber Teivi?

FARMER. - We do.

MYSELF. - Are there many gleisiaid in the Teivi?

FARMER. - Plenty, and salmons too - that is, farther down. The best place for salmon and gleisiaid is a place, a great way down the stream, called Dinas Emlyn.

MYSELF. - Do you know an animal called Llostlydan?

FARMER. - No, I do not know that beast.

MYSELF. - There used to be many in the Teivi.

FARMER. - What kind of beast is the Llostlydan?

MYSELF. - A beast with a broad tail, on which account the old Cumri did call him Llostlydan. Clever beast he was; made himself house of wood in middle of the river, with two doors, so that when hunter came upon him he might have good chance of escape. Hunter often after him, because he had skin good to make hat.

FARMER. - Ha, I wish I could catch that beast now in Teivi.

MYSELF. - Why so?

Farmer. - Because I want hat. Would make myself hat of his skin.

MYSELF. - Oh, you could not make yourself a hat even if you had the skin.

FARMER. - Why not? Shot coney in Bunk Pen Banedd; made myself cap of his skin. So why not make hat of skin of broadtail, should Icatch him in Teivi?

MYSELF. - How far is it to Tregaron?

FARMER. -'Tis ten miles from here, and eight from the Rhyd Fendigaid.

MYSELF. - Must I go back to Rhyd Fendigaid to get to Tregaron?

FARMER. - You must.

MYSELF. - Then I must be going, for the night is coming down.

Farewell!

FARMER. - Farvel, Saxon gentleman!