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That, however, is not the Devil's Bridge; but about twenty feet below that bridge, and completely overhung by it, don't you see a shadowy, spectral object, something like a bow, which likewise bestrides the chasm? You do! Well, that shadowy, spectral object is the celebrated Devil's Bridge, or, as the timorous peasants of the locality call it, the Pont y Gwr Drwg.

"Surely I can't be in the right road," said I; "I wish I had an opportunity of asking." Presently seeing an old man working with a spade in a field near a gate, I stopped and said in Welsh: "Am I in the road to the Pont y Gwr Drwg?" The old man looked at me for a moment, then shouldering his spade he came up to the gate, and said in English: "In truth, sir, you are."

"Oh, that over the hills, sir; it is about twenty miles from here to the Pont y Gwr Drwg over the hills, but more than twice that by the valleys." "Well, I suppose you would advise me to go by the hills?" "Certainly, sir that is, if you wish to break your neck, or to sink in a bog, or to lose your way, or perhaps, if night comes on, to meet the Gwr Drwg himself taking a stroll.

After paying my bill I went into the yard to my friend the old ostler, to make inquiries with respect to the road. "What kind of road," said I, "is it to the Devil's Bridge?" "There are two roads, sir, to the Pont y Gwr Drwg; which do you mean to take?" "Why do you call the Devil's Bridge the Pont y Gwr Drwg, or the bridge of the evil man?"

Their three daughters, Drwg, and Gwaeth, and Gwaethav Oll. For the sake of the golden-chained daughters of this island. For the sake of Gwenhwyvar its chief lady, and Gwennhwyach her sister, and Rathtyeu the only daughter of Clemenhill, and Rhelemon the daughter of Kai, and Tannwen the daughter of Gweir Datharweniddawg. Gwenn Alarch the daughter of Kynwyl Canbwch.

As the people were going out I said to the farmer in Welsh: "A bad affair this." "Drwg iawn" very bad indeed, he replied. "Did these fellows speak truth?" said I. "Nage Dim ond celwydd" not they! nothing but lies. "Dear me!" said I to myself, "what an ill-treated individual!" Machynlleth Remarkable Events Ode to Glendower Dafydd Gam Lawdden's Hatchet.

I wandered on for some time; at length on turning round a bluff I saw a lad tending a small herd of bullocks. "Am I in the road," said I, "to the Pont y Gwr Drwg?" "Nis gwn! I don't know," said he sullenly. "I am a hired servant, and have only been here a little time." "Where's the house," said I, "where you serve?" But as he made no answer I left him.

Their three swords are three griding gashers, Glas, Glessic, and Clersag. Their three dogs, Call, Cuall, and Cavall, Their three horses, Hwyrdydwg, and Drwgdydwg, and Llwyrdydwg. Their three wives, Och, and Geram, and Diaspad. Their three grandchildren, Lluched, and Vyned, and Eissiwed. Their three daughters, Drwg, and Gwaeth, and Gwaethav Oil.

He glared at me malignantly, then, taking the pipe out of his mouth, said that he did not know, that he had been down below to inquire and light his pipe, but could get neither light nor answer from the children. I asked him where he came from, but he evaded the question by asking where I was going to. "To the Pont y Gwr Drwg," said I. He then asked me if I was an Englishman.