'Here the Gypsy gemman see,
With his Roman jib and his rome and dree--
Rome and dree, rum and dry
Rally round the Rommany Rye.'
'And now, brother,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'seeing that you have drunk and
been drunken, you will perhaps tell us where you have been, and what
about?'
'I have been in the Big City,' said I, 'writing lils' [books].
'How much money have you got in your pocket, brother?' said Mr.
Petulengro.
'Eighteen pence,' said I; 'all I have in the world.'
'I have been in the Big City, too,' said Mr. Petulengro; 'but I have not
written lils--I have fought in the ring--I have fifty pounds in my
pocket--I have much more in the world. Brother, there is considerable
difference between us.'
'I would rather be the lil-writer, after all,' said the tall, handsome,
black man; 'indeed, I would wish for nothing better.'
'Why so?' said Mr. Petulengro.
'Because they have so much to say for themselves,' said the black man,
'even when dead and gone. When they are laid in the churchyard, it is
their own fault if people a'n't talking of them. Who will know, after I
am dead, or bitchadey pawdel, that I was once the beauty of the world, or
that you, Jasper, were--'
'The best man in England of my inches. That's true, Tawno--however,
here's our brother will perhaps let the world know something about us.'
'Not he,' said the other, with a sigh; 'he'll have quite enough to do in
writing his own lils, and telling the world how handsome and clever he
was; and who can blame him? Not I. If I could write lils, every word
should be about myself and my own tacho Rommanis--my own lawful wedded
wife, which is the same thing. I tell you what, brother, I once heard a
wise man say in Brummagem, that "there is nothing like blowing one's own
horn," which I conceive to be much the same thing as writing one's own
lil.'
* * * * *
At length the moon shone out faintly, when suddenly by its beams I beheld
a figure moving before me at a slight distance. I quickened the pace of
the burra, and was soon close at its side. It went on, neither altering
its pace nor looking round for a moment. It was the figure of a man, the
tallest and bulkiest that I had hitherto seen in Spain, dressed in a
manner strange and singular for the country. On his head was a hat with
a low crown and broad brim, very much resembling that of an English
waggoner; about his body was a long loose tunic or slop, seemingly of
coarse ticken, open in front, so as to allow the interior garments to be
occasionally seen. These appeared to consist of a jerkin and short
velveteen pantaloons.
I have said that the brim of the hat was broad, but broad as it was, it
was insufficient to cover an immense bush of coal-black hair, which,
thick and curly, projected on either side. Over the left shoulder was
flung a kind of satchel, and in the right hand was held a long staff or
pole.
There was something peculiarly strange about the figure; but what struck
me the most was the tranquillity with which it moved along, taking no
heed of me, though of course aware of my proximity, but looking straight
forward along the road, save when it occasionally raised a huge face and
large eyes towards the moon, which was now shining forth in the eastern
quarter. . . .
'A cold night,' said I at last. 'Is this the way to Talavera?'
'It is the way to Talavera, and the night is cold.'
'I am going to Talavera,' said I, 'as I suppose you are yourself.'
'I am going thither, so are you, bueno.'
The tones of the voice which delivered these words were in their way
quite as strange and singular as the figure to which the voice belonged.
They were not exactly the tones of a Spanish voice, and yet there was
something in them that could hardly be foreign; the pronunciation also
was correct, and the language, though singular, faultless. But I was
most struck with the manner in which the last word, bueno, was spoken. I
had heard something like it before, but where or when I could by no means
remember. A pause now ensued, the figure stalking on as before with the
most perfect indifference, and seemingly with no disposition either to
seek or avoid conversation.
'Are you not afraid,' said I at last, 'to travel these roads in the dark?
It is said that there are robbers abroad.'
'Are you not rather afraid,' replied the figure, 'to travel these roads
in the dark?--you who are ignorant of the country, who are a foreigner,
an Englishman?'
'How is it that you know me to be an Englishman?' demanded I, much
surprised.
'That is no difficult matter,' replied the figure; 'the sound of your
voice was enough to tell me that.'
'You speak of voices,' said I; 'suppose the tone of your own voice were
to tell me who you are?'
'That it will not do,' replied my companion; 'you know nothing about
me--you can know nothing about me.'
'Be not sure of that, my friend; I am acquainted with many things of
which you have little idea.'
'Por exemplo,' said the figure.
'For example,' said I, 'you speak two languages.'
The figure moved on, seemed to consider a moment and then said slowly,
'Bueno.'
'You have two names,' I continued; 'one for the house, and the other for
the street; both are good, but the one by which you are called at home is
the one which you like best.'
The man walked on about ten paces, in the same manner as he had
previously done; all of a sudden he turned, and taking the bridle of the
burra gently in his hand, stopped her. I had now a full view of his face
and figure, and those huge features and Herculean form still occasionally
revisit me in my dreams. I see him standing in the moonshine, staring me
in the face with his deep calm eyes. At last he said--
'Are you then _one of us_?'
* * * * *
Upon the shoulder of the goatherd was a beast, which he told me was a
lontra, or otter, which he had lately caught in the neighbouring brook;
it had a string round its neck, which was attached to his arm. At his
left side was a bag, from the top of which peered the heads of two or
three singular looking animals; and at his right was squatted the sullen
cub of a wolf, which he was endeavouring to tame. His whole appearance
was to the last degree savage and wild. After a little conversation,
such as those who meet on the road frequently hold, I asked him if he
could read, but he made me no answer. I then inquired if he knew
anything of God or Jesus Christ; he looked me fixedly in the face for a
moment, and then turned his countenance towards the sun, which was
beginning to sink in the west, nodded to it, and then again looked
fixedly upon me. I believe that I understood the mute reply, which
probably was, that it was God who made that glorious light which illumes
and gladdens all creation; and, gratified with that belief, I left him
and hastened after my companions, who were by this time a considerable
way in advance.
* * * * *
I have always found in the disposition of the children of the fields a
more determined tendency to religion and piety than amongst the
inhabitants of towns and cities, and the reason is obvious--they are less
acquainted with the works of man's hands than with those of God; their
occupations, too, which are simple, and requiring less of ingenuity and
skill than those which engage the attention of the other portion of their
fellow-creatures, are less favourable to the engendering of self-conceit
and self-sufficiency, so utterly at variance with that lowliness of
spirit which constitutes the best foundation of piety.
* * * * *
'C'est moi, mon maitre,' cried a well-known voice, and presently in
walked Antonio Buchini, dressed in the same style as when I first
introduced him to the reader, namely, in a handsome but rather faded
French surtout, vest, and pantaloons, with a diminutive hat in one hand,
and holding in the other a long and slender cane.
'Bon jour, mon maitre,' said the Greek; then, glancing around the
apartment, he continued, 'I am glad to find you so well lodged. If I
remember right, mon maitre, we have slept in worse places during our
wanderings in Galicia and Castile.'
'You are quite right, Antonio,' I replied; 'I am very comfortable. Well,
this is kind of you to visit your ancient master, more especially now he
is in the toils; I hope, however, that by so doing you will not offend
your present employer. His dinner hour must be at hand; why are you not
in the kitchen?'
'Of what employer are you speaking, mon maitre?' demanded Antonio.
'Of whom should I speak but Count ---, to serve whom you abandoned me,
being tempted by an offer of a monthly salary less by four dollars than
that which I was giving you?'
'Your worship brings an affair to my remembrance which I had long since
forgotten. I have at present no other master than yourself, Monsieur
Georges, for I shall always consider you as my master, though I may not
enjoy the felicity of waiting upon you.'
'You have left the Count, then,' said I, 'after remaining three days in
the house, according to your usual practice.'
'Not three hours, mon maitre,' replied Antonio; 'but I will tell you the
circumstances. Soon after I left you I repaired to the house of Monsieur
le Comte; I entered the kitchen, and looked about me. I cannot say that
I had much reason to be dissatisfied with what I saw: the kitchen was
large and commodious, and everything appeared neat and in its proper
place, and the domestics civil and courteous; yet, I know not how it was,
the idea at once rushed into my mind that the house was by no means
suited to me, and that I was not destined to stay there long; so, hanging
my haversack upon a nail, and sitting down on the dresser, I commenced
singing a Greek song, as I am in the habit of doing when dissatisfied.
The domestics came about me, asking questions. I made them no answer,
however, and continued singing till the hour for preparing the dinner
drew nigh, when I suddenly sprang on the floor, and was not long in
thrusting them all out of the kitchen, telling them that they had no
business there at such a season. I then at once entered upon my
functions. I exerted myself, mon maitre--I exerted myself, and was
preparing a repast which would have done me honour; there was, indeed,
some company expected that day, and I therefore determined to show my
employer that nothing was beyond the capacity of his Greek cook. Eh
bien, mon maitre, all was going on remarkably well, and I felt almost
reconciled to my new situation when who should rush into the kitchen but
le fils de la maison, my young master, an ugly urchin of thirteen years,
or thereabouts. He bore in his hand a manchet of bread, which, after
prying about for a moment, he proceeded to dip in the pan where some
delicate woodcocks were in the course of preparation. You know, mon
maitre, how sensitive I am on certain points, for I am no Spaniard, but a
Greek, and have principles of honour. Without a moment's hesitation I
took my young master by the shoulders, and hurrying him to the door,
dismissed him in the manner which he deserved. Squalling loudly, he
hurried away to the upper part of the house. I continued my labours, but
ere three minutes had elapsed, I heard a dreadful confusion above stairs,
on faisoit une horrible tintamarre, and I could occasionally distinguish
oaths and execrations. Presently doors were flung open, and there was an
awful rushing downstairs, a gallopade. It was my lord the count, his
lady, and my young master, followed by a regular bevy of women and filles
de chambre. Far in advance of all, however, was my lord with a drawn
sword in his hand, shouting, "Where is the wretch who has dishonoured my
son, where is he? He shall die forthwith." I know not how it was, mon
maitre, but I just then chanced to spill a large bowl of garbanzos, which
were intended for the puchera of the following day. They were un-cooked,
and were as hard as marbles; these I dashed upon the floor, and the
greater part of them fell just about the doorway. Eh bien, mon maitre,
in another moment in bounded the count, his eyes sparkling like coals,
and, as I have already said, with a rapier in his hand. "Tenez, gueux
enrage," he screamed, making a desperate lunge at me; but ere the words
were out of his mouth, his foot slipping on the pease, he fell forward
with great violence at his full length, and his weapon flew out of his
hand, comme une fleche. You should have heard the outcry which
ensued--there was a terrible confusion; the count lay upon the floor to
all appearance stunned. I took no notice, however, continuing busily
employed. They at last raised him up, and assisted him till he came to
himself, though very pale and much shaken. He asked for his sword: all
eyes were now turned upon me, and I saw that a general attack was
meditated. Suddenly I took a large casserole from the fire in which
various eggs were frying; this I held out at arm's length, peering at it
along my arm as if I were curiously inspecting it, my right foot advanced
and the other thrown back as far as possible. All stood still,
imagining, doubtless, that I was about to perform some grand operation,
and so I was: for suddenly the sinister leg advancing, with one rapid
coup de pied, I sent the casserole and its contents flying over my head,
so that they struck the wall far behind me. This was to let them know
that I had broken my staff and had shaken the dust off my feet; so
casting upon the count the peculiar glance of the Sceirote cooks when
they feel themselves insulted, and extending my mouth on either side
nearly as far as the ears, I took down my haversack and departed, singing
as I went the song of the ancient Demos, who, when dying, asked for his
supper, and water wherewith to lave his hands--
[Greek verse]