Ah, you quite right to come and see church - fine
tomb there and clebber man sleeping in it with his wife, clebber
man that - Owen Tiddir; married great queen - dyn clebber iawn."
Following the suggestions of the man of the hairy cap I went round
the church and knocked at the door of the house, a handsome
parsonage. A nice little servant-girl presently made her
appearance at the door, of whom I inquired whether I could see the
church.
"Certainly, sir," said she; "I will go for the key and accompany
you."
She fetched the key and away we went to the church. It is a
venerable chapel-like edifice, with a belfry towards the west; the
roof sinking by two gradations, is lower at the eastern or altar
end, than at the other. The girl, unlocking the door, ushered me
into the interior.
"Which is the tomb of Tudor?" said I to the pretty damsel.
"There it is, sir," said she, pointing to the north side of the
church; "there is the tomb of Owen Tudor."
Beneath a low-roofed arch lay sculptured in stone on an altar tomb,
the figures of a man and woman; that of the man in armour; that of
the woman in graceful drapery. The male figure lay next the wall.
"And you think," said I to the girl; "that yonder figure is that of
Owen Tudor?"
"Yes, sir," said the girl; "yon figure is that of Owen Tudor; the
other is that of his wife, the great queen; both their bodies rest
below.
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