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The Zincali-Part23_George Borrow(1803-1881)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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that their fathers had entertained some belief in metempsychosis;

but they themselves laughed at the idea, and were of opinion that



the soul perished when the body ceased to breathe; and the argument

which they used was rational enough, so far as it impugned



metempsychosis: 'We have been wicked and miserable enough in this

life,' they said; 'why should we live again?'



I translated certain portions of Scripture into their dialect,

which I frequently read to them; especially the parable of Lazarus



and the Prodigal Son, and told them that the latter had been as

wicked as themselves, and both had suffered as much or more; but



that the sufferings of the former, who always looked forward to a

blessed resurrection, were recompensed by admission, in the life to



come, to the society of Abraham and the Prophets, and that the

latter, when he repented of his sins, was forgiven, and received



into as much favour as the just son.

They listened with admiration; but, alas! not of the truths, the



eternal truths, I was telling them, but to find that their broken

jargon could be written and read. The only words denoting anything



like assent to my doctrine which I ever obtained, were the

following from the mouth of a woman: 'Brother, you tell us strange



things, though perhaps you do not lie; a month since I would sooner

have believed these tales, than that this day I should see one who



could write Rommany.'

Two or three days after my arrival, I was again visited by the



Gypsy of the withered arm, who I found was generally termed Paco,

which is the diminutive of Francisco; he was accompanied by his



wife, a rather good-looking young woman with sharp intelligent

features, and who appeared in every respect to be what her husband



had represented her on the former visit. She was very poorly clad,

and notwithstanding the extreme sharpness of the weather, carried



no mantle to protect herself from its inclemency, - her raven black

hair depended behind as far down as her hips. Another Gypsy came



with them, but not the old fellow whom I had before seen. This was

a man about forty-five, dressed in a zamarra of sheep-skin, with a



high-crowned Andalusian hat; his complexion was dark as pepper, and

his eyes were full of sullen fire. In his appearance he exhibited



a goodlycompound of Gypsy and bandit.

PACO. - 'Laches chibeses te dinele Undebel (May God grant you good



days, brother). This is my wife, and this is my wife's father.'

MYSELF. - 'I am glad to see them. What are their names?'



PACO. - 'Maria and Antonio; their other name is Lopez.'

MYSELF. - 'Have they no Gypsy names?'



PACO. - 'They have no other names than these.'

MYSELF. - 'Then in this respect the Gitanos of Spain are unlike



those of my country. Every family there has two names; one by

which they are known to the Busne, and another which they use



amongst themselves.'

ANTONIO. - 'Give me your hand, brother! I should have come to see



you before, but I have been to Olivenzas in search of a horse.

What I have heard of you has filled me with much desire to know



you, and I now see that you can tell me many things which I am

ignorant of. I am Zincalo by the four sides - I love our blood,



and I hate that of the Busne. Had I my will I would wash my face

every day in the blood of the Busne, for the Busne are made only to



be robbed and to be slaughtered; but I love the Calore, and I love

to hear of things of the Calore, especially from those of foreign



lands; for the Calore of foreign lands know more than we of Spain,

and more resemble our fathers of old.'



MYSELF. - 'Have you ever met before with Calore who were not

Spaniards?'



ANTONIO. - 'I will tell you, brother. I served as a soldier in the

war of the independence against the French. War, it is true, is



not the proper occupation of a Gitano, but those were strange

times, and all those who could bear arms were compelled to go forth



to fight: so I went with the English armies, and we chased the

Gabine unto the frontier of France; and it happened once that we



joined in desperate battle, and there was a confusion, and the two

parties became intermingled and fought sword to sword and bayonet



to bayonet, and a French soldier singled me out, and we fought for

a long time, cutting, goring, and cursing each other, till at last



we flung down our arms and grappled; long we wrestled, body to

body, but I found that I was the weaker, and I fell. The French



soldier's knee was on my breast, and his grasp was on my throat,

and he seized his bayonet, and he raised it to thrust me through






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