Mae Dewi Sant yn dal yn osgoi ymweld â’r esgob. Mae e’n barod i wneud unrhyw beth o gwbl yn lle hynny. Mae e’n tanio ffag, ac yna droi i wynebu Daf y gath, sydd yn llyfu ei draed.
– Daf, wyt ti eisiau chwarae pi-po? gofynna Dewi Sant.
– Ydw i’n edrych fel dw i eisiau chwarae pi-po? meddai Daf, heb ddiddordeb, a throi’n ôl i’w draed.
– Dere ‘mlaen. Plîs.
Mae golwg anobaith ar Dewi Sant.
– O’r gorau, ‘te, meddai Daf, – Dw i’n mynd i eistedd fan hyn, a gallet ti smalio nad wyt ti’n gallu fy ngweld i.
– Dyw hyn ddim yn mynd i weithio, yw e? meddai Dewi Sant.
– Bydd rhaid i ti ymweld â’r esgob yn hwyr neu’n hwyrach, t’mod, ateba Daf.
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Saint David is still avoiding visiting the bishop. He is prepared to do anything at all but that. He lights a fag, and then turns to face Dave the cat, who is licking his feet.
– Dave, do you want to play pee-po? asks Saint David.
– Do I look like I want to play pee-po? says Dave, without interest, and returns to his feet.
– Come on. Please.
Saint David looks desperate.
– OK then, says Dave, – I’ll sit here, and you can pretend you can’t see me.
– This isn’t going to work, is it? says Saint David.
– You’ll have to visit the bishop sooner or later, y’know, answers Dave.
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