Part 7 (1/2)
The two last were but tolerated, and the singer soon found that a merry strain was most congenial to their fancies. He therefore gave them the old and popular duet of ”Hob y deri dando,” rendered more comical by his singing alternately shrill and gruff, for male and female's parts.
HOB Y DERI DANDO {138}
_Ivor_. The summer storm is on the mountain, Hob y deri dando, my sweet maid!
_Gweno_. And foul the stream, though bright the fountain, Hob y deri dando, for the shade.
_Ivor_. Let my mantle love protect thee, Gentle Gweno dear;
_Gweno_. Ivor kind will ne'er neglect me, Faithful far and near:
_Both_. Through life the hue of first love true, Will never never fade.
_Ivor_. The rain is past, the clouds are gone too, Hob o'r deri dando, far they spread;
_Gweno_. The lark is up, and bright the sun too, Hob o'r deri dando, on the mead;
_Ivor_. Thus may the frowns of life pa.s.s over, Happy then our lot,
_Gweno_. And the smile of peace be bright as ever In our humble cot.
_Both_. Through life the hue of first love true Will never never fade.
Having sung the last thrice over, he sold about a dozen ballads; and was about to treat his auditors with the old and national song of _Nos Galan_, or New Year's Eve, when, to his great surprise, the malignant visage of Parson Evans presented itself before him.
Judging of our hero's s.e.x by his a.s.sumed attire, several young men in the course of the day, offered their treats of cake and ale, some of which was accepted; and presuming on that circ.u.mstance, they amusingly put in their claims to further notice, and seemed inclined to quarrel, as for a sweetheart.
Thus possessed of beaux and champions, Twm resolved to employ them in a new scheme of vengeance on the unpopular parson. ”You see that old fellow in black,” said he, directing their attention to him as he pa.s.sed, ”he is a b.u.m-bailiff, and the greatest villain in all the country I come from; and at this very moment I'll be bound for it, he is hunting out some poor fellow to put him in prison. He wanted to be a lover of mine, but only intended to ruinate me; but if he loved me ever so much I would not have had him if his skin was stuffed with diamonds. The villainous old catchpole! it is to him that I owe all my misfortunes; refusing him for a sweetheart, he grew as spiteful as a snake, and by telling a parcel of falsehoods he got me turned out of my place without a character, so that I am now brought to this-to sing ballads in the street.” Here, a.s.suming a whimpering tone, Twm was compelled to smother a powerful fit of laughter, which emotion was taken for sobbing, and consequently drew much on the sympathy of those now addressed; but suddenly withdrawing the ap.r.o.n that veiled his features, he exclaimed, with the vehemence of a young termagant, ”I'd give the world to see that old fellow tossed in a blanket!” Mark Antony's effort of eloquence to rouse the Roman citizens to avenge the death of Caesar, was not more effective than our hero's appeal.
With a natural hatred to a bailiff, and as natural a predilection for the smiles of a handsome young woman, being ”full of distempering draughts”
and ripe for a freak, their zeal became inflamed to a ferment, each felt himself the leading hero to avenge the wrongs of the fair ballad singer, in the manner suggested by herself. One of the young men, a native of the town and son to the innkeeper, immediately procured a blanket, when, watching their opportunity as the supposed bailiff pa.s.sed along, one tripped up his heels, while the rest received him in the extended blanket, and tossed him most vigorously in the air for about ten minutes.
Exhausted at length with their labours, and allured by the fair handful of silver displayed by their victim, they accepted his bribe and desisted, each venting his jest on the crest-fallen Evans, ”hoping it would be a warning not to persecute a poor friendless girl again.”
The knot of swains now separated, and ran in different directions to avoid being recognized as the perpetrators of the ”freak,” but soon met again at an appointed place at the back of the town, where they had left our hero, between the empty carts of the ware venders.
Great was their dismay on discovering, after a long search in various parts of the fair, that the fair ballad-singer was no where to be found.
Here was a general smelling of a trick put upon them, and consequent ”curses on all jilting ballad-singers” uttered by the unlucky clods.
It occurred to one bright youth named Johnny Wapstraw, that he had entrusted his best holiday coat to the custody of the injured damsel, that he might toss the ”catchpole” with the greater vigour; but on ascertaining the precise spot where he had left her, he found her complete feminine attire made into a bundle and fastened to a cart with a band of straw, left as a love-gift for him, while she kept his coat as a similar token of affection; having inscribed with chalk on the side of the cart ”An exchange is no robbery.”
CHAP. XVII.
Twm escapes from Cardigan. Meets Parson Rhys at Lampeter. The tragical tale of the heiress of Maes-y-velin and the flower of Llandovery.
HAVING thus possessed himself of a coat without the tediousness and expence of giving measure to a tailor, and no more fastidious about a dressing room, retired to a stable, and soon came out fully dressed in his male attire; of which, a coat only was before wanting. Bent on a precipitate retreat, as the urgency of his case demanded, he bolted down St. Mary's Street, and soon found himself on the turnpike road, with the good town of Cardigan some miles behind him. In little more than two hours he reached the small town of Dinas Emlyn, now called Newcastle-in-Emlyn, on a romantic part of the Teivy dividing the counties of Cardigan and Carmarthen, and occupying its banks on either side.
Entering a small public house, he regaled himself on the fine potent ale for which that place has been so famous. Being refreshed with a little rest and food, he now, for the first time, began to enquire of himself whither he was going, and what his aims were to be; questions which he found very difficult to be resolved. Although the most serious cogitations on the subject might have availed little or nothing, chance very unexpectedly decided him, and relieved his apprehensious for the present.
Perceiving a very loquacious beer-inspired pig-drover, who vaunted his successful sale at Cardigan fair, preparing to depart, he suddenly determined to take the same route wherever it might lead, and on inquiry, found he was going to Llandovery.