A Visitor - Apprenticeship to the Law - Croch Daranau - Lope de Vega - No Life like the Traveller's.
ONE morning as I sat alone a gentleman was announced. On his entrance I recognised in him the magistrate's clerk, owing to whose good word, as it appeared to me, I had been permitted to remain during the examination into the affair of the wounded butcher. He was a stout, strong-made man, somewhat under the middle height, with a ruddy face, and very clear, grey eyes. I handed him a chair, which he took, and said that his name was R-, and that he had taken the liberty of calling, as he had a great desire to be acquainted with me. On my asking him his reason for that desire he told me that it proceeded from his having read a book of mine about Spain, which had much interested him.
"Good," said I, "you can't give an author a better reason for coming to see him than being pleased with his book. I assure you that you are most welcome."After a little general discourse I said that I presumed he was in the law.
"Yes," said he, "I am a member of that much-abused profession.""And unjustly abused," said I; "it is a profession which abounds with honourable men, and in which I believe there are fewer scamps than in any other. The most honourable men I have ever known have been lawyers; they were men whose word was their bond, and who would have preferred ruin to breaking it. There was my old master, in particular, who would have died sooner than broken his word.
God bless him! I think I see him now with his bald, shining pate, and his finger on an open page of 'Preston's Conveyancing.'""Sure you are not a limb of the law?" said Mr R-.
"No," said I, "but I might be, for I served an apprenticeship to it.""I am glad to hear it," said Mr R-, shaking me by the hand. "Take my advice, come and settle at Llangollen and be my partner.""If I did," said I, "I am afraid that our partnership would be of short duration; you would find me too eccentric and flighty for the law. Have you a good practice?" I demanded after a pause.
"I have no reason to complain of it," said he, with a contented air.
"I suppose you are married?" said I.
"Oh yes," said he, "I have both a wife and family.""A native of Llangollen?" said I.
"No," said he: "I was born at Llan Silin, a place some way off across the Berwyn.""Llan Silin?" said I, "I have a great desire to visit it some day or other.""Why so?" said he, "it offers nothing interesting.""I beg your pardon," said I; "unless I am much mistaken, the tomb of the great poet Huw Morris is in Llan Silin churchyard.""Is it possible that you have ever heard of Huw Morris?""Oh yes," said I; "and I have not only heard of him but am acquainted with his writings; I read them when a boy.""How very extraordinary," said he; "well, you are quite right about his tomb; when a boy I have played dozens of times on the flat stone with my schoolfellows."We talked of Welsh poetry; he said he had not dipped much into it, owing to its difficulty; that he was master of the colloquial language of Wales, but understood very little of the language of Welsh poetry, which was a widely different thing. I asked him whether he had seen Owen Pugh's translation of Paradise Lost. He said he had, but could only partially understand it, adding, however, that those parts which he could make out appeared to him to be admirably executed, that amongst these there was one which had particularly struck him namely:
"Ar eu col o rygnu croch Daranau."
