Now, sir, have the kindness to tell me the name of the man who
made those pennillion."
"Lewis Glyn Cothi," said I; "at least, it was he who made the
pennillion from which those verses are translated."
"And what was the name of the gentleman whom he came to visit?"
"His name," said I, "was Dafydd ab Thomas Vychan."
"And where did he live?"
"Why, I believe, he lived at the castle, which you told me once
stood on the spot which you pointed out as we came up. At any
rate, he lived somewhere upon Plynlimmon."
"I wish there was some rich gentleman at present living on
Plynlimmon," said my guide; "one of that sort is much wanted."
"You can't have everything at the same time," said I; "formerly you
had a chieftain who gave away wine and mead, and occasionally a bit
of gold or silver, but then no travellers and tourists came to see
the wonders of the hills, for at that time nobody cared anything
about hills; at present you have no chieftain, but plenty of
visitors, who come to see the hills and the sources, and scatter
plenty of gold about the neighbourhood."
We now bent our steps homeward, bearing slightly to the north,
going over hills and dales covered with gorse and ling. My guide
walked with a calm and deliberate gait, yet I had considerable
difficulty in keeping up with him.
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