It was at this town of Badajoz, the capital of Estremadura, that I first
fell in with those singular people, the Zincali, Gitanos, or Spanish
gipsies. It was here I met with the wild Paco, the man with the withered
arm, who wielded the _cachas_ with his left hand; his shrewd wife,
Antonia, skilled in _hokkano baro_, or the great trick; the fierce
gipsy, Antonio Lopez, their father-in-law; and many other almost
equally singular individuals of the Errate, or gipsy blood. It was here
that I first preached the gospel to the gipsy people, and commenced that
translation of the New Testament in the Spanish gipsy tongue, a portion
of which I subsequently printed at Madrid.
After a stay of three weeks at Badajoz, I prepared to depart for Madrid.
Late one afternoon, as I was arranging my scanty baggage, the gipsy
Antonio entered my apartment, dressed in his _zamarra_ and high-peaked
Andalusian hat.
_Antonio_--Good evening, brother; they tell me that on the _callicaste_
you intend to set out for Madrilati.
_Myself_--Such is my intention; I can stay here no longer.
_Antonio_--The way is far to Madrilati; there are, moreover, wars in the
land, and many _chories_ walk about; are you not afraid to journey?
_Myself_--I have no fears; every man must accomplish his destiny: what
befalls my body or soul was written in a _gabicote_ a thousand years
before the foundation of the world.
_Antonio_--I have no fears myself, brother: the dark night is the same
to me as the fair day, and the wild _carrascal_ as the market-place or
the _chardi_; I have got the _bar lachí_ in my bosom, the precious stone
to which sticks the needle.
_Myself_--You mean the loadstone, I suppose. Do you believe that a
lifeless stone can preserve you from the dangers which occasionally
threaten your life?
_Antonio_--Brother, I am fifty years old, and you see me standing before
you in life and strength; how could that be unless the _bar lachí_ had
power? I have been soldier and _contrabandista_, and I have likewise
slain and robbed the Busné. The bullets of the Gabiné and of the _jara
canallis_ have hissed about my ears without injuring me, for I carried
the _bar lachí._ I have twenty times done that which by Busné law should
have brought me to the _filimicha_, yet my neck has never yet been
squeezed by the cold _garrote_. Brother, I trust in the _bar lachí_ like
the Caloré of old: were I in the midst of the gulf of Bombardó without a
plank to float upon, I should feel no fear; for if I carried the
precious stone, it would bring me safe to shore. The _bar lachí_ has
power, brother.
_Myself_--I shall not dispute the matter with you, more especially as I
am about to depart from Badajoz: I must speedily bid you farewell, and
we shall see each other no more.
_Antonio_--Brother, do you know what brings me hither?
_Myself_--I cannot tell, unless it be to wish me a happy journey: I am
not gipsy enough to interpret the thoughts of other people.
_Antonio_--All last night I lay awake, thinking of the affairs of Egypt;
and when I arose in the morning I took the _bar lachí_ from my bosom,
and scraping it with a knife, swallowed some of the dust in
_aguardiente_, as I am in the habit of doing when I have made up my
mind; and I said to myself, I am wanted on the frontiers of Castumba on
a certain matter. The strange Caloró is about to proceed to Madrilati;
the journey is long, and he may fall into evil hands, peradventure into
those of his own blood; for let me tell you, brother, the Calés are
leaving their towns and villages, and forming themselves into troops to
plunder the Busné, for there is now but little law in the land, and now
or never is the time for the Caloré to become once more what they were
in former times. So I said, the strange Caloró may fall into the hands
of his own blood and be ill-treated by them, which were shame: I will
therefore go with him through the Chim del Manró as far as the frontiers
of Castumba, and upon the frontiers of Castumba I will leave the London
Caloró to find his own way to Madrilati, for there is less danger in
Castumba than in the Chim del Manró, and I will then betake me to the
affairs of Egypt which call me from hence.
_Myself_--This is a very hopeful plan of yours, my friend: and in what
manner do you propose that we shall travel?
_Antonio_--I will tell you, brother. I have a _gras_ in the stall, even
the one which I purchased at Olivenças, as I told you on a former
occasion; it is good and fleet, and cost me, who am a gipsy, fifty
_chulé_: upon that _gras_ you shall ride. As for myself, I will journey
upon the _macho_.
_Myself_--Before I answer you, I shall wish you to inform me what
business it is which renders your presence necessary in Castumba: your
son-in-law Paco told me that it was no longer the custom of the gipsies
to wander.
_Antonio_--It is an affair of Egypt, brother, and I shall not acquaint
you with it; peradventure it relates to a horse or an ass, or
peradventure it relates to a mule or a _macho_; it does not relate to
yourself, therefore I advise you not to inquire about it--_Dosta_. With
respect to my offer, you are free to decline it; there is a _drungruje_
between here and Madrilati, and you call travel it in the _birdoche_,
or with the _dromalis_; but I tell you, as a brother, that there are
_chories_ upon the _drun_, and some of them are of the Errate.
--Certainly few people in my situation would have accepted the offer of
this singular gipsy. It was not, however, without its allurements for
me; I was fond of adventure, and what more ready means of gratifying my
love of it than by putting myself under the hands of such a guide? There
are many who would have been afraid of treachery, but I had no fears on
this point, as I did not believe that the fellow harbored the slightest
ill-intention towards me; I saw that he was fully convinced that I was
one of the Errate, and his affection for his own race, and his hatred
for the Busné, were his strongest characteristics. I wished moreover to
lay hold of every opportunity of making myself acquainted with the ways
of the Spanish gipsies, and an excellent one here presented itself on my
first entrance into Spain. In a word, I determined to accompany the
gipsy. "I will go with you," I exclaimed; "as for my baggage, I will
dispatch it to Madrid by the _birdoche_." "Do so, brother," he replied,
"and the _gras_ will go lighter. Baggage, indeed!--what need of baggage
have you? How the Busné on the road would laugh if they saw two Calés
with baggage behind them!"
During my stay at Badajoz I had but little intercourse with the
Spaniards, my time being chiefly devoted to the gipsies: with whom, from
long intercourse with various sections of their race in different parts
of the world, I felt myself much more at home than with the silent,
reserved men of Spain, with whom a foreigner might mingle for half a
century without having half a dozen words addressed to him, unless he
himself made the first advances to intimacy, which after all might be
rejected with a shrug and a _no entiendo_; for among the many deeply
rooted prejudices of these people is the strange idea that no foreigner
can speak their language, an idea to which they will still cling though
they hear him conversing with perfect ease; for in that case the utmost
that they will concede to his attainments is, "Habla quatro palabras y
nada mas." (He can speak four words, and no more.)
Early one morning, before sunrise, I found myself at the house of
Antonio; it was a small mean building, situated in a dirty street. The
morning was quite dark; the street, however, was partially illumined by
a heap of lighted straw, round which two or three men were busily
engaged, apparently holding an object over the flames. Presently the
gipsy's door opened, and Antonio made his appearance; and casting his
eye in the direction of the light, exclaimed, "The swine have killed
their brother; would that every Busnó was served as yonder hog is. Come
in, brother, and we will eat the heart of that hog." I scarcely
understood his words, but following him, he led me into a low room, in
which was a _brasero_, or small pan full of lighted charcoal; beside it
was a rude table, spread with a coarse linen cloth, upon which was bread
and a large pipkin full of a mess which emitted no disagreeable savor.
"The heart of the _balichó_ is in that _puchera_," said Antonio; "eat,
brother." We both sat down and ate--Antonio voraciously. When we had
concluded he arose. "Have you got your _li_?" he demanded. "Here it is,"
said I, showing him my passport. "Good," said he; "you may want it, I
want none: my passport is the _bar lachí_. Now for a glass of _repañi_,
and then for the road."
We left the room, the door of which he locked, hiding the key beneath a
loose brick in a corner of the passage. "Go into the street, brother,
whilst I fetch the _caballerias_ from the stable." I obeyed him. The sun
had not yet risen, and the air was piercingly cold; the gray light,
however, of dawn enabled me to distinguish objects with tolerable
accuracy; I soon heard the clattering of the animal's feet, and Antonio
presently stepped forth, leading the horse by the bridle; the _macho_
followed behind. I looked at the horse, and shrugged my shoulders. As
far as I could scan it, it appeared the most uncouth animal I had ever
beheld. It was of a spectral white, short in the body, but with
remarkably long legs. I observed that it was particularly high in the
_cruz_, or withers. "You are looking at the _grasti_," said Antonio: "it
is eighteen years old, but it is the very best in the Chim del Manró; I
have long had my eye upon it; I bought it for my own use for the affairs
of Egypt. Mount, brother, mount, and let us leave the _foros_--the gate
is about being opened."
He locked the door, and deposited the key in his _faja_. In less than a
quarter of an hour we had left the town behind us. "This does not appear
to be a very good horse," said I to Antonio, as we proceeded over the
plain: "it is with difficulty that I can make him move."
"He is the swiftest horse in the Chim del Manró, brother," said Antonio;
"at the gallop and at the speedy trot, there is no one to match him.
But he is eighteen years old, and his joints are stiff, especially of a
morning; but let him once become heated, and the _genio del viejo_ comes
upon him, and there is no holding him in with bit or bridle. I bought
that horse for the affairs of Egypt, brother."
About noon we arrived at a small village in the neighborhood of a high
lumpy hill. "There is no Caló house in this place," said Antonio: "we
will therefore go to the _posada_ of the Busné and refresh ourselves,
man and beast." We entered the kitchen and sat down at the board,
calling for wine and bread. There were two ill-looking fellows in the
kitchen smoking cigars. I said something to Antonio in the
Caló language.
"What is that I hear?" said one of the fellows, who was distinguished by
an immense pair of mustaches. "What is that I hear? Is it in Caló that
you are speaking before me, and I a _chalan_ and national? Accursed
gipsy, how dare you enter this _posada_ and speak before me in that
speech? Is it not forbidden by the law of the land in which we are, even
as it is forbidden for a gipsy to enter the _mercado_? I tell you what,
friend, if I hear another word of Caló come from your mouth, I will
cudgel your bones and send you flying over the house-tops with a kick
of my foot."
"You would do right," said his companion; "the insolence of these
gipsies is no longer to be borne. When I am at Merida or Badajoz I go to
the _mercado_, and there in a corner stand the accursed gipsies,
jabbering to each other in a speech which I understand not. 'Gipsy
gentleman,' say I to one of them, 'what will you have for that donkey?'
'I will have ten dollars for it, _Caballero national_,' says the gipsy:
'it is the best donkey in all Spain.' 'I should like to see its paces,'
say I. 'That you shall, most valorous!' says the gipsy, and jumping upon
its back, he puts it to its paces, first of all whispering something
into its ear in Caló; and truly the paces of the donkey are most
wonderful, such as I have never seen before. I think it will just suit
me; and after looking at it awhile, I take out the money and pay for it.
'I shall go to my house,' says the gipsy; and off he runs. 'I shall go
to my village,' say I, and I mount the donkey, 'Vamonos,' say I, but the
donkey won't move. I give him a switch, but I don't get on the better
for that. What happens then, brother? The wizard no sooner feels the
prick than he bucks down, and flings me over his head into the mire. I
get up and look about me; there stands the donkey staring at me, and
there stand the whole gipsy _canaille_ squinting at me with their filmy
eyes. 'Where is the scamp who has sold me this piece of furniture?' I
shout. 'He is gone to Granada, valorous,' says one. 'He is gone to see
his kindred among the Moors,' says another. 'I just saw him running over
the field, in the direction of ----, with the devil close behind him,'
says a third. In a word, I am tricked. I wish to dispose of the donkey:
no one, however, will buy him; he is a Caló donkey, and every person
avoids him. At last the gipsies offer thirty _reals_ for him; and after
much chaffering I am glad to get rid of him at two dollars. It is all a
trick, however; he returns to his master, and the brotherhood share the
spoil amongst them: all which villainy would be prevented, in my
opinion, were the Caló language not spoken; for what but the word of
Caló could have induced the donkey to behave in such an
unaccountable manner?"
Both seemed perfectly satisfied with the justness of this conclusion,
and continued smoking till their cigars were burnt to stumps, when they
arose, twitched their whiskers, looked at us with fierce disdain, and
dashing the tobacco-ends to the ground, strode out of the apartment.
"Those people seem no friends to the gipsies," said I to Antonio, when
the two bullies had departed; "nor to the Caló language either."
"May evil glanders seize their nostrils," said Antonio: "they have been
_jonjabadoed_ by our people. However, brother, you did wrong to speak to
me in Caló, in a _posada_ like this: it is a forbidden language; for, as
I have often told you, the king has destroyed the law of the Calés. Let
us away, brother, or those _juntunes_ may set the _justicia_ upon us."
Towards evening we drew near to a large town or village. "That is
Merida," said Antonio, "formerly, as the Busné say, a mighty city of the
Corahai. We shall stay here to-night, and perhaps for a day or two, for
I have some business of Egypt to transact in this place. Now, brother,
step aside with the horse, and wait for me beneath yonder wall. I must
go before and see in what condition matters stand."
I dismounted from the horse, and sat down on a stone beneath the ruined
wall to which Antonio had motioned me. The sun went down, and the air
was exceedingly keen; I drew close around me an old tattered gipsy
cloak with which my companion had provided me, and being somewhat
fatigued, fell into a doze which lasted for nearly an hour.
"Is your worship the London Caloró?" said a strange voice close beside
me.
I started, and beheld the face of a woman peering under my hat.
Notwithstanding the dusk, I could see that the features were hideously
ugly and almost black; they belonged, in fact, to a gipsy crone at least
seventy years of age, leaning upon a staff.
"Is your worship the London Caloró?" repeated she.
"I am he whom you seek," said I; "where is Antonio?"
"Curelando, curelando; baribustres curelós terela," said the crone.
"Come with me, Caloró of my _garlochin_, come with me to my little
_ker_; he will be there anon."
I followed the crone, who led the way into the town, which was ruinous
and seemingly half deserted; we went up the street, from which she
turned into a narrow and dark lane, and presently opened the gate of a
large dilapidated house. "Come in," said she.
"And the _gras_?" I demanded.
"Bring the _gras_ in too, my _chabó_, bring the _gras_ in too; there is
room for the _gras_ in my little stable." We entered a large court,
across which we proceeded till we came to a wide doorway. "Go in, my
child of Egypt," said the hag; "go in, that is my little stable."
"The place is as dark as pitch," said I, "and may be a well for what I
know; bring a light, or I will not enter."
"Give me the _solabarri_," said the hag, "and I will lead your horse in,
my _chabó_ of Egypt--yes, and tether him to my little manger."
She led the horse through the doorway, and I heard her busy in the
darkness; presently the horse shook himself. "_Grasti terelamos_," said
the hag, who now made her appearance with the bridle in her hand; "the
horse has shaken himself, he is not harmed by his day's journey; now let
us go in, my Caloró, into my little room."
We entered the house, and found ourselves in a vast room, which would
have been quite dark but for a faint glow which appeared at the farther
end: it proceeded from a _brasero_, beside which were squatted two
dusky figures.
"These are Callées," said the hag; "one is my daughter and the other is
her _chabi_. Sit down, my London Caloró, and let us hear you speak."
I looked about for a chair, but could see none: at a short distance,
however, I perceived the end of a broken pillar lying on the floor; this
I rolled to the _brasero_, and sat down upon it.
"This is a fine house, mother of the gipsies," said I to the hag,
willing to gratify the desire she had expressed of hearing me speak; "a
fine house is this of yours, rather cold and damp, though; it appears
large enough to be a barrack for _hundunares_."
"Plenty of houses in this _foros_, plenty of houses in Merida, my London
Caloró, some of them just as they were left by the Corahanós. Ah! a fine
people are the Corahanós; I often wish myself in their _chim_
once more."
"How is this, mother?" said I; "have you been in the land of the Moors?"
"Twice have I been in their country, my Caloró--twice have I been in the
land of the Corahai. The first time is more than fifty years ago; I was
then with the Sesé, for my husband was a soldier of the Crallis of
Spain, and Oran at that time belonged to Spain."
"You were not then with the real Moors," said I, "but only with the
Spaniards who occupied part of their country."
"I have been with the real Moors, my London Caloró. Who knows more of
the real Moors than myself? About forty years ago I was with my _ro_ in
Ceuta, for he was still a soldier of the king; and he said to me one
day, 'I am tired of this place, where there is no bread and less water;
I will escape and turn Corahanó; this night I will kill my sergeant, and
flee to the camp of the Moor,' 'Do so,' said I, 'my _chabó_, and as soon
as may be I will follow you and become a Corahani.' That same night he
killed his sergeant, who five years before had called him Caló and
cursed him; then running to the wall he dropped from it, and amidst many
shots he escaped to the land of the Corahai. As for myself, I remained
in the presidio of Ceuta as a sutler, selling wine and _repañí_ to the
soldiers. Two years passed by, and I neither saw nor heard from my _ro_.
One day there came a strange man to my _cachimani_; he was dressed like
a Corahanó, and yet he did not look like one; he looked more like a
_callardó_, and yet he was not a _callardó_ either, though he was almost
black; and as I looked upon him, I thought he looked something like the
Errate; and he said to me, 'Zincali, chachipé!' and then he whispered to
me in queer language, which I could scarcely understand, 'Your _ro_ is
waiting; come with me, my little sister, and I will take you unto him.'
'Where is he?' said I, and he pointed to the west, to the land of the
Corahai, and said, 'He is yonder away; come with me, little sister, the
_ro_ is waiting.' For a moment I was afraid, but I bethought me of my
husband, and I wished to be amongst the Corahai; so I took the little
_parné_ I had, and locking up the _cachimani_, went with the strange
man. The sentinel challenged us at the gate, but I gave him _repañí_,
and he let us pass; in a moment we were in the land of the Corahai.
About a league from the town, beneath a hill, we found four people, men
and women, all very black like the strange man, and we joined ourselves
with them, and they all saluted me, 'little sister.' That was all I
understood of their discourse, which was very crabbed; and they took
away my dress and gave me other clothes, and I looked like a Corahani;
and away we marched for many days amidst deserts and small villages, and
more than once it seemed to me that I was amongst the Errate, for their
ways were the same. The men would _hokkawar_ with mules and asses, and
the women told _baji_, and after many days we came before a large town,
and the black man said, 'Go in there, little sister, and there you will
find your _ro_;' and I went to the gate, and an armed Corahanó stood
within the gate, and I looked in his face, and lo! it was my _ro_.
"Oh, what a strange town it was that I found myself in, full of people
who had once been Candoré, but had renegaded and become Corahai! There
were Sesé and Laloré, and men of other nations, and amongst them were
some of the Errate from my own country; all were now soldiers of the
Crallis of the Corahai, and followed him to his wars; and in that town I
remained with my _ro_ a long time, occasionally going out to him to the
wars; and I often asked him about the black men who had brought me
thither, and he told me that he had had dealings with them, and that he
believed them to be of the Errate. Well, brother, to be short, my _ro_
was killed in the wars, before a town to which the king of the Corahai
laid siege, and I became a _piuli_, and I returned to the village of the
renegades, as it was called, and supported myself as well as I could;
and one day, as I was sitting weeping, the black man, whom I had never
seen since the day he brought me to my _ro_, again stood before me, and
he said, 'Come with me, little sister, come with me; the _ro_ is at
hand;' and I went with him, and beyond the gate in the desert was the
same party of black men and women which I had seen before. 'Where is my
_ro_?' said I. 'Here he is, little sister,' said the black man, 'here he
is; from this day I am the _ro_ and you are the _romi_. Come, let us go,
for there is business to be done.'
"And I went with him, and he was my _ro_, and we lived amongst the
deserts, and _hokkawar'd_ and _choried_ and told _baji_; and I said to
myself, 'This is good; sure, I am amongst the Errate in a better _chim_
than my own.' And I often said that they were of the Errate, and then
they would laugh and say that it might be so, and that they were not
Corahai, but they could give no account of themselves.
"Well, things went on in this way for years, and I had three _chai_ by
the black man; two of them died, but the youngest, who is the Calli who
sits by the _brasero_, was spared. So we roamed about and _choried_ and
told _baji_; and it came to pass that once in the winter time our
company attempted to pass a wide and deep river, of which there are many
in the Chim del Corahai, and the boat overset with the rapidity of the
current, and all our people were drowned, all but myself and my _chabi_,
whom I bore in my bosom. I had no friends amongst the Corahai, and I
wandered about the _despoblados_ howling and lamenting till I became
half _lili_, and in this manner I found my way to the coast, where I
made friends with the captain of a ship, and returned to this land of
Spain. And now I am here, I often wish myself back again amongst
the Corahai."
Here she commenced laughing loud and long; and when she had ceased, her
daughter and grandchild took up the laugh, which they continued so long
that I concluded they were all lunatics.
Hour succeeded hour, and still we sat crouching over the _brasero_, from
which, by this time, all warmth had departed; the glow had long since
disappeared, and only a few dying sparks were to be distinguished. The
room or hall was now involved in utter darkness; the women were
motionless and still; I shivered and began to feel uneasy. "Will Antonio
be here to-night?" at length I demanded.
"_No tenga usted cuidado_, my London Caloró," said the gipsy mother in
an unearthly tone; "Pepindorio has been here some time."
I was about to rise from my seat and attempt to escape from the house,
when I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder, and in a moment I heard the
voice of Antonio:--
"Be not afraid; 'tis I, brother. We will have a light anon, and then
supper."
The supper was rude enough, consisting of bread, cheese, and olives;
Antonio, however, produced a leathern bottle of excellent wine. We
dispatched these viands by the light of an earthen lamp, which was
placed upon the floor.
"Now," said Antonio to the youngest female, "bring me the _pajandi_, and
I will sing a _gachapla_."
The girl brought the guitar, which with some difficulty the gipsy tuned,
and then, strumming it vigorously, he sang:--
"I stole a plump and bonny fowl,
But ere I well had dined,
The master came with scowl and growl,
And me would captive bind.
"My hat and mantle off I threw,
And scoured across the lea;
Then cried the _beng_ with loud halloo,
'Where does the gipsy flee?'"
He continued playing and singing for a considerable time, the two
younger females dancing in the meanwhile with unwearied diligence,
whilst the aged mother occasionally snapped her fingers or beat time on
the ground with her stick. At last Antonio suddenly laid down the
instrument, exclaiming:--
"I see the London Caloró is weary; enough, enough, to-morrow more
thereof. We will now to the _charipé_."
"With all my heart," said I: "where are we to sleep?"
"In the stable," said he, "in the manger; however cold the stable may
be, we shall be warm enough in the _bufa_."
We remained three days at the gipsies' house, Antonio departing early
every morning on his mule, and returning late at night. The house was
large and ruinous, the only habitable part of it with the exception of
the stable being the hall, where we had supped; and there the gipsy
females slept at night, on some mats and mattresses in a corner.
"A strange house is this," said I to Antonio, one morning as he was on
the point of saddling his mule, and departing, as I supposed, on the
affairs of Egypt; "a strange house and strange people. That gipsy
grandmother has all the appearance of a _sowanee_."
"All the appearance of one!" said Antonio; "and is she not really one?
She knows more crabbed things and crabbed words than all the Errate
betwixt here and Catalonia. She has been amongst the wild Moors, and can
make more _draos_, poisons, and philtres than any one alive. She once
made a kind of paste, and persuaded me to taste, and shortly after I had
done so my soul departed from my body, and wandered through horrid
forests and mountains, amidst monsters and _duendes_, during one entire
night. She learned many things amidst the Corahai which I should be
glad to know."
"Have you been long acquainted with her?" said I. "You appear to be
quite at home in this house."
"Acquainted with her!" said Antonio. "Did not my own brother marry the
black Calli, her daughter, who bore him the _chabí_, sixteen years ago,
just before he was hanged by the Busné?"
In the afternoon I was seated with the gipsy mother in the hall; the two
Callées were absent telling fortunes about the town and neighborhood,
which was their principal occupation.
"Are you married, my London Caloró?" said the old woman to me. "Are you
a _ro_?"
_Myself_--Wherefore do you ask, O Dai de los Calés?
_Gipsy Mother_--It is high time that the _lacha_ of the _chabi_ were
taken from her, and that she had a _ro_. You can do no better than take
her for _romi_, my London Caloró.
_Myself_--I am a stranger in this land, O mother of the gipsies, and
scarcely know how to provide for myself, much less for a _romi_.
_Gipsy Mother_--She wants no one to provide for her, my London Caloró:
she can at any time provide for herself and her _ro_. She can
_hokkawar_, tell _baji_, and there are few to equal her at stealing _à
pastesas_. Were she once at Madrilati, where they tell me you are going,
she would make much treasure; therefore take her thither, for in this
_foros_ she is _nahi_, as it were, for there is nothing to be gained:
but in the _foros baro_ it would be another matter; she would go dressed
in _lachipé_ and _sonacai_, whilst you would ride about on your
black-tailed _gra_; and when you had got much treasure, you might return
hither and live like a Crallis, and all the Errate of the Chim del Manró
should bow down their heads to you. What say you, my London Caloró;
what say you to my plan?
_Myself_--Your plan is a plausible one, mother, or at least some people
would think so; but I am, as you are aware, of another _chim_, and have
no inclination to pass my life in this country.
_Gipsy Mother_--Then return to your own country, my Caloró; the _chabí_
can cross the _paní_. Would she not do business in London with the rest
of the Caloré? Or why not go to the land of the Corahai? In which case I
would accompany you; I and my daughter, the mother of the _chabí_.
_Myself_--And what should we do in the land of the Corahai? It is a poor
and wild country, I believe.
_Gipsy Mother_--The London Caloró asks me what we could do in the land
of the Corahai! _Aromali_! I almost think that I am speaking to a
_lilipendi_. Are there not horses to _chore?_ Yes, I trow there are, and
better ones than in this land, and asses, and mules. In the land of the
Corahai you must _hokkawar_ and _chore_ even as you must here, or in
your own country, or else you are no Caloró. Can you not join yourselves
with the black people who live in the _despoblados_? Yes, surely; and
glad they would be to have among them the Errate from Spain and London.
I am seventy years of age, but I wish not to die in this _chim_, but
yonder, far away, where both my _roms_ are sleeping. Take the _chabí_,
therefore, and go to Madrilati to win the _parné_; and when you have got
it, return, and we will give a banquet to all the Busné in Merida, and
in their food I will mix _drao_, and they shall eat and burst like
poisoned sheep.... And when they have eaten we will leave them, and away
to the land of the Moor, my London Caloró.
During the whole time that I remained at Merida I stirred not once from
the house; following the advice of Antonio, who informed me that it
would not be convenient. My time lay rather heavily on my hands, my only
source of amusement consisting in the conversation of the women, and in
that of Antonio when he made his appearance at night. In these
_tertulias_ the grandmother was the principal spokeswoman, and
astonished my ears with wonderful tales of the land of the Moors, prison
escapes, thievish feats, and one or two poisoning adventures, in which
she had been engaged, as she informed me, in her early youth.
There was occasionally something very wild in her gestures, and
demeanor; more than once I observed her, in the midst of much
declamation, to stop short, stare in vacancy, and thrust out her palms
as if endeavoring to push away some invisible substance; she goggled
frightfully with her eyes, and once sank back in convulsions, of which
her children took no further notice than observing that she was only
_lili_, and would soon come to herself.