“Know Welsh!” said Winifred, stopping her cart.
“How and when did you learn it?” said Peter.
“From books, in my boyhood.”
“Read Welsh!” said Peter, “is it possible?”
“Read Welsh!” said Winifred, “is it possible?”
“Well, I hope you will come with us,” said Peter.
“Come with us, young man,” said Winifred; “let me, on the other side of the brook, welcome you into Wales.”
“Thank you both,” said I, “but I will not come.”
“Wherefore?” exclaimed both, simultaneously.
“Because it is neither fit nor proper that I cross into Wales at this time, and in this manner. When I go into Wales, I should wish to go in a new suit of superfine black, with hat and beaver, mounted on a powerful steed, black and glossy, like that which bore Greduv to the fight of Catraeth. I should wish, moreover, to see the Welshmen assembled on the border ready to welcome me with pipe and fiddle, and much whooping and shouting, and to attend me to Wrexham, or even as far as Machynllaith, where I should wish to be invited to a