Ey, hate or love must be the sword,
sire, that informs us here, and then, if only for a little while, we
are as gods."
"Pardie! I have loved as often as Salomon, and in fourteen kingdoms."
"We of Cymry have a saying, sire, that when a man loves par amours the
second time he may safely assume that he has never been in love at
all."
"--And I hate Henry of Lancaster as I do the devil."
"I greatly fear," said Owain with a sigh, "lest it may be your
irreparable malady to hate nothing, not even that which you dislike.
No, you consider things with both eyes open, with an unmanly
rationality: whereas Sire Henry views all matters with that heroic
squint which came into your family from Poictesme."
"Be off with your dusty scandals!" said Richard, laughing.
So then Glyndwyr rode south to besiege and burn the town of Caerdyf,
while at Caer Idion Richard Holland abode tranquilly for some three
weeks. There was in this place only Caradawc (the former shepherd),
his wife Alundyne, and their sole daughter Branwen. They gladly
perceived Sire Richard was no more a peasant than he was a curmudgeon;
as Caradawc observed: "It is perfectly apparent that the robe of
Padarn Beisrudd, which refuses to adjust itself to any save highborn
persons, would fit him as a glove does the hand; but we will ask no
questions, since it is not wholesome to dispute the orderings of Owain
Glyndwyr.
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