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"Are you married, my London Caloro?" said the old woman to me. "Are you a ro?" Myself. Wherefore do you ask, O Dai de los Cales? Gypsy 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 Caloro. 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. Gypsy Mother. Then return to your own country, my Caloro, the chabi can cross the pani. Would she not do business in London with the rest of the Calore? Or why not go to the land of the Corahai?
The Gypsy hag of Badajoz, who proposed to poison all the Busne in Madrid, and then away with the London Caloro to the land of the Moor his Greek servant Antonio, even though he begins with "Je vais vous raconter mon histoire du commencement jusqu'ici." the Italian whom he had met as a boy and who now regretted leaving England, the toasted cheese and bread, the Suffolk ale, the roaring song and merry jests of the labourers, and Antonio again, telling him "the history of the young man of the inn," these story-tellers are not merely consummate variations upon those of the "Decameron" and "Gil Blas."
Take the chabi, therefore, and go to Madrilati to win the parne, and when you have got it, return, and we will give a banquet to all the Busne in Merida, and in their food I will mix drow, 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 Caloro.
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 Callees," said the hag; "one is my daughter and the other is her chabi; sit down, my London Caloro, and let us hear you speak."
Suddenly the two youngest seized his hands, and whilst he struggled to release himself, the old woman exclaimed: "You want tobacco, hijo you come to the Gypsy house to frighten the Callees and the strange Caloro out of their plako truly, hijo, we have none for you, and right sorry I am; we have, however, plenty of the dust a su servicio."
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 Caloro, into my little room."
He refers especially to the absurd notion of the English caloro, that the Portuguese will probably some day adopt the Spanish language; a most preposterous idea, when we remember the shyness, not to say the antipathy, existing between the two nations, and the immense opinion each entertains of itself and all belonging to it.
In which case I would accompany you; I and my daughter, the mother of the chabi. Myself. And what should we do in the land of the Corahai? It is a poor and wild country, I believe. Gypsy Mother. The London Caloro asks me what we could do in the land of the Corahai! Aromali! Are there not horses to chore? Yes, I trow there are, and better ones than in this land, and asses and mules.
Your old friend the zingaro, the gitano who rode about Spain, to say nothing of Galicia, with the Greek Buchini behind him as his squire, had a hand in bringing them about; there are many brave Spaniards connected with the present movement who took Bibles from his hands, and read them and profited by them, learning from the inspired page the duties of one man towards another, and the real value of a priesthood and their head, who set at nought the word of God, and think only of their own temporal interests; ay, and who learned Gitano their own Gitano from the lips of the London Caloro, and also songs in the said Gitano, very fit to dumbfounder your semi-Buddhist priests when they attempt to bewilder people's minds with their school-logic and pseudo-ecclesiastical nonsense, songs such as
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