morning at the old trysting place, mounted on a hired mule, and without
any attendant. He found Preciosa and her grandmother waiting for him,
and was cordially welcomed by them. He begged they would take him at
once to the rancho,[74] before it was broad day, that he might not be
recognised should he be sought for. The two gitanas, who had taken the
precaution to come alone, immediately wheeled round, and soon arrived
with him at their huts. Andrew entered one of them, which was the
largest in the rancho, where he was forthwith assisted by ten or twelve
gitanos, all handsome strapping young fellows, whom the old woman had
previously informed respecting the new comrade who was about to join
them. She had not thought it necessary, to enjoin them to secrecy; for,
as we have already said, they habitually observed it with unexampled
sagacity and strictness. Their eyes were at once on the mule, and said
one of them, "We can sell this on Thursday in Toledo."
[74] Gipsy encampment.
"By no means," said Andrew; "for there is not a hired mule in Madrid, or
any other town, but is known to all the muleteers that tramp the roads
of Spain."
"Por dios, Señor Andrew," said one of the gang, "if there were more
signs and tokens upon the mule than are to precede the day of judgment,
we will transform it in such a manner that it could not be known by the
mother that bore it, or the master that owned it."
"That maybe," said Andrew; "but for this time you must do as I
recommend. This mule must be killed, and buried where its bones shall
never be seen."
"Put the innocent creature to death!" cried another gipsy. "What a sin!
Don't say the word, good Andrew; only do one thing. Examine the beast
well, till you have got all its marks well by heart; then let me take it
away, and if in two hours from this time you are able to know, it again,
let me be basted like a runaway negro."
"I must insist upon the mule's being put to death," said Andrew, "though
I were ever so sure of its transformation. I am in fear of being
discovered unless it is put under ground. If you object for sake of the
profit to be made by selling it, I am not come so destitute to this
fraternity but that I can pay my footing with more than the price of
four mules."
"Well, since the Señor Andrew Caballero will have it so," said the other
gitano, "let the sinless creature die, though God knows how much it goes
against me, both because of its youth, for it has not yet lost mark of
mouth, a rare thing among hired mules, and because it must be a good
goer, for it has neither scars on its flank nor marks of the spur."
The slaughter of the mule was postponed till night, and the rest of the
day was spent in the ceremonies of Andrew's initiation. They cleared out
one of the best huts in the encampment, dressed it with boughs and
rushes, and seating Andrew in it on the stump of a cork tree, they put a
hammer and tongs in his hands, and made him cut two capers to the sound
of two guitars. They then bared one of his arms, tied round it a new
silk ribbon through which they passed a short stick, and gave it two
turns gently, after the manner of the garotte with which criminals are
strangled. Preciosa was present at all this, as were many other gitanas,
old and young, some of whom gazed at Andrew with admiration, others with
love, and such was his good humour, that even the gitanos took most
kindly to him.
These ceremonies being ended, an old gipsy took Preciosa by the hand,
and setting her opposite Andrew, spoke thus: "This girl, who is the
flower and cream of all beauty among the gitanas of Spain, we give to
you either for your wife or your mistress, for in that respect you may
do whatever shall be most to your liking, since our free and easy life
is not subject to squeamish scruples or to much ceremony. Look at her
well, and see if she suits you, or if there is anything in her you
dislike; if there is, choose from among the maidens here present the one
you like best, and we will give her to you. But bear in mind that once
your choice is made, you must not quit it for another, nor make or
meddle either with the married women or the maids. We are strict
observers of the law of good fellowship; none among us covets the good
that belongs to another. We live free and secure from the bitter plague
of jealousy; and though incest is frequent amongst us there is no
adultery. If a wife or a mistress is unfaithful, we do not go ask the
courts of justice to punish; but we ourselves are the judges and
executioners of our wives and mistresses, and make no more ado about
killing and burying them in the mountains and desert places than if they
were vermin. There are no relations to avenge them, no parents to call
us to account for their deaths. By reason of this fear and dread, our
women learn to live chaste; and we, as I have said, feel no uneasiness
about their virtue.
"We have few things which are not common to us all, except wives and
mistresses, each of whom we require to be his alone to whom fortune has
allotted her. Among us divorce takes place, because of old age as well
as by death. Any man may if he likes leave a woman who is too old for
him, and choose one more suitable to his years. By means of these and
other laws and statutes we contrive to lead a merry life. We are lords
of the plains, the corn fields, the woods, mountains, springs, and
rivers. The mountains yield us wood for nothing, the orchards fruit, the
vineyards grapes, the gardens vegetables, the fountains water, the
rivers fish, the parks feathered game; the rocks yield us shade, the
glades and valleys fresh air, and the caves shelter. For us the
inclemencies of the weather are zephyrs, the snow refreshment, the rain
baths, the thunder music, and the lightning torches. For us the hard
ground is a bed of down; the tanned skin of our bodies is an
impenetrable harness to defend us; our nimble limbs submit to no
obstacle from iron bars, or trenches, or walls; our courage is not to be
twisted out of us by cords, or choked by gauze,[75] or quelled by the
rack.
[75] See note [73], p. 200.
"Between yes and no we make no difference when it suits our convenience
to confound them; we always pride ourselves more on being martyrs than
confessors. For us the beasts of burden are reared in the fields, and
pockets are filled in the cities. No eagle or other bird of prey pounces
more swiftly on its quarry than we upon opportunities that offer us
booty. And finally, we possess many qualities which promise us a happy
end; for we sing in prison, are silent on the rack, work by day, and by
night we thieve, or rather we take means to teach all men that they
should exempt themselves from the trouble of seeing where they put their
property. We are not distressed by the fear of losing our honour, or
kept awake by ambition to increase it. We attach ourselves to no
parties; we do not rise by day-light to attend levees and present
memorials, or to swell the trains of magnates, or to solicit favours.
Our gilded roofs and sumptuous palaces are these portable huts; our
Flemish pictures and landscapes are those which nature presents to our
eyes at every step in the rugged cliffs and snowy peaks, the spreading
meads and leafy groves. We are rustic astronomers, for as we sleep
almost always under the open sky, we can tell every hour by day or
night. We see how Aurora extinguishes and sweeps away the stars from
heaven, and how she comes forth with her companion the dawn, enlivening
the air, refreshing the water, and moistening the earth; and after her
appears the sun gilding the heights, as the poet sings, and making the
mountains smile. We are not afraid of being left chilly by his absence,
when his rays fall aslant upon us, or of being roasted when they blaze
down upon us perpendicularly. We turn the same countenance to sun and
frost, to dearth and plenty. In conclusion, we are people who live by
our industry and our wits, without troubling ourselves with the old
adage, 'The church, the sea, or the king's household.' We have all we
want, for we are content with what we have.
"All these things have I told you, generous youth, that you may not be
ignorant of the life to which you are come, and the manners and customs
you will have to profess, which I have here sketched for you in the
rough. Many other particulars, no less worthy of consideration, you will
discover for yourself in process of time."
Here the eloquent old gitano closed his discourse, and the novice
replied, that he congratulated himself much on having been made
acquainted with such laudable statutes; that he desired to make
profession of an order so based on reason and politic principles; that
his only regret was that he had not sooner come to the knowledge of so
pleasant a life; and that from that moment he renounced his knighthood,
and the vain glory of his illustrious lineage, and placed them beneath
the yoke, or beneath the laws under which they lived, forasmuch as they
so magnificently recompensed the desire he had to serve them, in
bestowing upon him the divine Preciosa, for whom he would surrender many
crowns and wide empires, or desire them only for her sake.
Preciosa spoke next: "Whereas these señores, our lawgivers," she said,
"have determined, according to their laws that I should be yours, and as
such have given me up to you, I have decreed, in accordance with the law
of my own will, which is the strongest of all, that I will not be so
except upon the conditions heretofore concerted between us two. You must
live two years in our company before you enjoy mine, so that you may
neither repent through fickleness, nor I be deceived through
precipitation. Conditions supersede laws; those which I have prescribed
you know; if you choose to keep them, I may be yours, and you mine; if
not, the mule is not dead, your clothes are whole, and not a doit of
your money is spent. Your absence from home has not yet extended to the
length of a day; what remains you may employ in considering what best
suits you. These señores may give up my body to you, but not my soul,
which is free, was born free, and shall remain free. If you remain, I
shall esteem you much; if you depart, I shall do so no less; for I hold
that amorous impulses run with a loose rein, until they are brought to a
halt by reason or disenchantment. I would not have you be towards me
like the sportsman, who when he has bagged a hare thinks no more of it,
but runs after another. The eyes are sometimes deceived; at first sight
tinsel looks like gold; but they soon recognise the difference between
the genuine and the false metal. This beauty of mine, which you say I
possess, and which you exalt above the sun, and declare more precious
than gold, how do I know but that at a nearer view it will appear to you
a shadow, and when tested will seem but base metal? I give you two years
to weigh and ponder well what will be right to choose or reject. Before
you buy a jewel, which you can only get rid of by death, you ought to
take much time to examine it, and ascertain its faults or its merits. I
do not assent to the barbarous licence which these kinsmen of mine have
assumed, to forsake their wives or chastise them when the humour takes
them; and as I do not intend to do anything which calls for punishment,
I will not take for my mate one who will abandon me at his own caprice."
"You are right, Preciosa," said Andrew; "and so if you would have me
quiet your fears and abate your doubts, by swearing not to depart a jot
from the conditions you prescribe, choose what form of oath I shall
take, or what other assurance I shall give you, and I will do exactly as
you desire."
"The oaths and promises which the captive makes to obtain his liberty
are seldom fulfilled when he is free," returned Preciosa; "and it is
just the same, I fancy, with the lover, who to obtain his desire will
promise the wings of Mercury, and the thunderbolts of Jove; and indeed a
certain poet promised myself no less, and swore it by the Stygian lake.
I want no oaths or promises, Señor Andrew, but to leave everything to
the result of this novitiate. It will be my business to take care of
myself, if at any time you should think of offending me."
"Be it so," said Andrew. "One request I have to make of these señores
and comrades mine, and that is that they will not force me to steal
anything for a month or so; for it strikes me that it will take a great
many lessons to make me a thief."
"Never fear, my son," said the old gipsy; "for we will instruct you in
such a manner that you will turn out an eagle in our craft; and when you
have learned it, you will like it so much, that you will be ready to eat
your hand, it will so itch after it. Yes, it is fine fun to go out
empty-handed in the morning, and to return loaded at night to the
rancho."
"I have seen some return with a whipping," said Andrew.
"One cannot catch trouts dry shod," the old man replied: "all things in
this life have their perils: the acts of the thief are liable to the
galleys, whipping, and the scragging-post; but it is not because one
ship encounters a storm, or springs a leak, that others should cease to
sail the seas. It would be a fine thing if there were to be no soldiers,
because war consumes men and horses. Besides, a whipping by the hand of
justice is for us a badge of honour, which becomes us better worn on the
shoulders than on the breast. The main point is to avoid having to dance
upon nothing in our young days and for our first offences; but as for
having our shoulders dusted, or thrashing the water in a galley, we
don't mind that a nutshell. For the present, Andrew, my son, keep snug
in the nest under the shelter of our wings; in due time, we will take
you out to fly, and that where you will not return without a prey; and
the short and the long of it is, that by and by you will lick your
fingers after every theft."
"Meanwhile," said Andrew, "as a compensation for what I might bring in
by thieving during the vacation allowed me, I will divide two hundred
gold crowns among all the members of the rancho."
The words were no sooner out of his mouth, than several gitanos caught
him up in their arms, hoisted him upon their shoulders, and bore him
along, shouting, "Long life to the great Andrew, and long life to
Preciosa his beloved!" The gitanas did the same with Preciosa, not
without exciting the envy of Christina, and the other gitanillas
present; for envy dwells alike in the tents of barbarians, the huts of
shepherds, and the palaces of princes; and to see another thrive who
seems no better than oneself is a great weariness to the spirit.
This done, they ate a hearty dinner, made an equitable division of the
gift money, repeated their praises of Andrew, and exalted Preciosa's
beauty to the skies. When night fell, they broke the mule's neck, and
buried it, so as to relieve Andrew of all fear of its leading to his
discovery; they likewise buried with it the trappings, saddle, bridle,
girths and all, after the manner of the Indians, whose chief ornaments
are laid in the grave with them.
Andrew was in no small astonishment at all he had seen and heard, and
resolved to pursue his enterprise without meddling at all with the
customs of his new companions, so far as that might be possible.
Especially he hoped to exempt himself, at the cost of his purse, from
participating with them in any acts of injustice. On the following day,
Andrew requested the gipsies to break up the camp, and remove to a
distance from Madrid; for he feared that he should be recognised if he
remained there. They told him they had already made up their minds to go
to the mountains of Toledo, and thence to scour all the surrounding
country, and lay it under contribution. Accordingly they struck their
tents, and departed, offering Andrew an ass to ride; but he chose rather
to travel on foot, and serve as attendant to Preciosa, who rode
triumphantly another ass, rejoicing in her gallant esquire; whilst he
was equally delighted at finding himself close to her whom he had made
the mistress of his freedom.
O potent force of him who is called the sweet god of bitterness--a title
given him by our idleness and weakness--how effectually dost thou
enslave us! Here was Andrew, a knight, a youth of excellent parts,
brought up at court, and maintained in affluence by his noble parents;
and yet since yesterday such a change has been wrought in him that he
has deceived his servants and friends; disappointed the hopes of his
parents; abandoned the road to Flanders, where he was to have exercised
his valour and increased the honours of his line; and he has prostrated
himself at the feet of a girl, made himself the lackey of one who,
though exquisitely beautiful, is after all a gitana! Wondrous
prerogative of beauty, which brings down the strongest will to its feet,
in spite of all its resistance!
In four days' march, the gipsies arrived at a pleasant village, within
two leagues of the great Toledo, where they pitched their camp, having
first given some articles of silver to the alcalde of the district, as a
pledge that they would steal nothing within all his bounds, nor do any
other damage that might give cause of complaint against them. This done,
all the old gitanas, some young ones, and the men, spread themselves all
over the country, to the distance of four or five leagues from the
encampment. Andrew went with them to take his first lesson in thievery;
but though they gave him many in that expedition, he did not profit by
any of them. On the contrary, as was natural in a man of gentle blood,
every theft committed by his masters wrung his very soul, and sometimes
he paid for them out of his own pocket, being moved by the tears of the
poor people who had been despoiled. The gipsies were in despair at this
behavior: it was in contravention, they said, of their statutes and
ordinances, which prohibited the admission of compassion into their
hearts; because if they had any they must cease to be thieves,--a thing
which was not to be thought of on any account. Seeing this, Andrew said
he would go thieving by himself; for he was nimble enough to run from
danger, and did not lack courage to encounter it; so that the prize or
the penalty of his thieving would be exclusively his own.
The gipsies tried to dissuade him from this good purpose, telling him
that occasions might occur in which he would have need of companions, as
well to attack as to defend; and that one person alone could not make
any great booty. But in spite of all they could say, Andrew was
determined to be a solitary robber; intending to separate from the gang,
and purchase for money something which he might say he had stolen, and
thus burden his conscience as little as possible. Proceeding in this
way, in less than a month, he brought more gain to the gang than four of
the most accomplished thieves in it. Preciosa rejoiced not a little to
see her tender lover become such a smart and handy thief; but for all
that she was sorely afraid of some mischance, and would not have seen
him in the hands of justice for all the treasures of Venice; such was
the good feeling towards him which she could not help entertaining, in
return for his many good offices and presents. After remaining about a
month in the Toledan district, where they reaped a good harvest, the
gipsies entered the wealthy region of Estramadura.
Meanwhile Andrew frequently held honourable and loving converse with
Preciosa, who was gradually becoming enamoured of his good qualities;
while, in like manner, his love for her went on increasing, if that were
possible: such were the virtues, the good sense and beauty of his
Preciosa. Whenever the gipsies engaged in athletic games, he carried off
the prize for running and leaping: he played admirably at skittles and
at ball, and pitched the bar with singular strength and dexterity. In a
short while, his fame spread through all Estramadura, and there was no
part of it where they did not speak of the smart young gitano Andrew,
and his graces and accomplishments. As his fame extended, so did that of
Preciosa's beauty; and there was no town, village, or hamlet, to which
they were not invited, to enliven their patron saints' days, or other
festivities. The tribe consequently became rich, prosperous, and
contented, and the lovers were happy in the mere sight of each other.
It happened one night, when the camp was pitched among some evergreen
oaks, a little off the highway, they heard their dogs barking about the
middle watch, with unusual vehemence. Andrew and some others got up to
see what was the matter, and found a man dressed in white battling with
them, whilst one of them held him by the leg. "What the devil brought
you here, man," said one of the gipsies, after they had released him,
"at such an hour, away from the high road? Did you come to thieve? If
so, you have come to the right door?"
"I do not come to thieve; and I don't know whether or not I am off the
road, though I see well enough that I am gone astray," said the wounded
man. "But tell me, señores, is there any venta or place of entertainment
where I can get a night's lodging, and dress the wounds which these dogs
have given me?"
"There is no venta or public place to which we can take you," replied
Andrew; "but as for a night's lodging, and dressing your wounds, that
you can have at our ranchos. Come along with us; for though we are
gipsies, we are not devoid of humanity."
"God reward you!" said the man: "take me whither you please, for my leg
pains me greatly." Andrew lifted him up, and carried him along with the
help of some of the other compassionate gipsies; for even among the
fiends there are some worse than others, and among many bad men you may
find one good.
It was a clear moonlight night, so that they could see that the person
they carried was a youth of handsome face and figure. He was dressed all
in white linen, with a sort of frock of the same material belted round
his waist. They arrived at Andrew's hut or shed, quickly kindled a fire,
and fetched Preciosa's grandmother to attend to the young man's hurts.
She took some of the dogs' hairs, fried them in oil, and after washing
with wine the two bites she found on the patient's left leg, she put the
hairs and the oil upon them, and over this dressing a little chewed
green rosemary. She then bound the leg up carefully with clean bandages,
made the sign of the cross over it, and said, "Now go to sleep, friend
and with the help of God your hurts will not signify."
Whilst they were attending to the wounded man, Preciosa stood by, eyeing
him with great curiosity, whilst he did the same by her, insomuch that
Andrew took notice of the eagerness with which he gazed; but he
attributed this to the extraordinary beauty of Preciosa, which naturally
attracted all eyes. Finally, having done all that was needful for the
youth, they left him alone on a bed of dry hay, not caring to question
him then as to his road, or any other matter.
As soon as all the others were gone, Preciosa called Andrew aside, and
said to him, "Do you remember, Andrew, a paper I let fall in your house,
when I was dancing with my companions, and which caused you, I think,
some uneasiness?"
"I remember it well," said Andrew; "it was a madrigal in your praise,
and no bad one either."
"Well, you must know, Andrew, that the person who wrote those verses is
no other than the wounded youth we have left in the hut. I cannot be
mistaken, for he spoke to me two or three times in Madrid, and gave me
too a very good romance. He was then dressed, I think, as a page,--not
an ordinary one, but like a favourite of some prince. I assure you,
Andrew, he is a youth of excellent understanding, and remarkably well
behaved; and I cannot imagine what can have brought him hither, and in
such a garb."
"What should you imagine, Preciosa, but that the same power which has
made me a gitano, has made him put on the dress of a miller, and come in
search of you? Ah, Preciosa! Preciosa! how plain it begins to be that
you pride yourself on having more than one adorer. If this be so, finish
me first, and then kill off this other, but do not sacrifice both at the
same time to your perfidy."