lavengro-第29节

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he　is　handsome；　that　is　not　the　word；　brother；　he's　the　beauty　of　

the　world。　　Women　run　wild　at　the　sight　of　Tawno。　　An　earl's　

daughter；　near　London　…　a　fine　young　lady　with　diamonds　round　her　

neck　…　fell　in　love　with　Tawno。　　I　have　seen　that　lass　on　a　heath；　

as　this　may　be；　kneel　down　to　Tawno；　clasp　his　feet；　begging　to　be　

his　wife　…　or　anything　else　…　if　she　might　go　with　him。　　But　Tawno　

would　have　nothing　to　do　with　her：　　〃I　have　a　wife　of　my　own；〃　said　

he；　〃a　lawful　rommany　wife；　whom　I　love　better　than　the　whole　

world；　jealous　though　she　sometimes　be。〃'



'And　is　she　very　beautiful？'　said　I。



'Why；　you　know；　brother；　beauty　is　frequently　a　matter　of　taste；　

however；　as　you　ask　my　opinion；　I　should　say　not　quite　so　beautiful　

as　himself。'



We　had　now　arrived　at　a　small　valley　between　two　hills；　or　downs；　

the　sides　of　which　were　covered　with　furze；　in　the　midst　of　this　

valley　were　various　carts　and　low　tents　forming　a　rude　kind　of　

encampment；　several　dark　children　were　playing　about；　who　took　no　

manner　of　notice　of　us。　　As　we　passed　one　of　the　tents；　however；　a　

canvas　screen　was　lifted　up；　and　a　woman　supported　upon　a　crutch　

hobbled　out。　　She　was　about　the　middle　age；　and；　besides　being　

lame；　was　bitterly　ugly；　she　was　very　slovenly　dressed；　and　on　her　

swarthy　features　ill　nature　was　most　visibly　stamped。　　She　did　not　

deign　me　a　look；　but；　addressing　Jasper　in　a　tongue　which　I　did　not　

understand；　appeared　to　put　some　eager　questions　to　him。



'He's　coming；'　said　Jasper；　and　passed　on。　　'Poor　fellow；'　said　he　

to　me；　'he　has　scarcely　been　gone　an　hour；　and　she's　jealous　

already。　　Well；'　he　continued；　'what　do　you　think　of　her？　you　have　

seen　her　now；　and　can　judge　for　yourself　…　that　'ere　woman　is　Tawno　

Chikno's　wife！'







CHAPTER　XVII







The　tent　…　Pleasant　discourse　…　I　am　Pharaoh　…　Shifting　for　one's　

self　　…　Horse…shoes　…　This　is　wonderful　…　Bless　your　wisdom　…　A　

pretty　manoeuvre　…　Ill　day　to　the　Romans　…　My　name　is　Herne　…　

Singular　people　…　An　original　speech　…　Word…master　…　Speaking　

Romanly。



WE　went　to　the　farthest　of　the　tents；　which　stood　at　a　slight　

distance　from　the　rest；　and　which　exactly　resembled　the　one　which　I　

have　described　on　a　former　occasion；　we　went　in　and　sat　down　one　on　

each　side　of　a　small　fire；　which　was　smouldering　on　the　ground；　

there　was　no　one　else　in　the　tent　but　a　tall　tawny　woman　of　middle　

age；　who　was　busily　knitting。　　'Brother；'　said　Jasper；　'I　wish　to　

hold　some　pleasant　discourse　with　you。'



'As　much　as　you　please；'　said　I；　'provided　you　can　find　anything　

pleasant　to　talk　about。'



'Never　fear；'　said　Jasper；　'and　first　of　all　we　will　talk　of　

yourself。　　Where　have　you　been　all　this　long　time？'



'Here　and　there；'　said　I；　'and　far　and　near；　going　about　with　the　

soldiers；　but　there　is　no　soldiering　now；　so　we　have　sat　down；　

father　and　family；　in　the　town　there。'



'And　do　you　still　hunt　snakes？'　said　Jasper。



'No；'　said　I；　'I　have　given　up　that　long　ago；　I　do　better　now：　　

read　books　and　learn　languages。'



'Well；　I　am　sorry　you　have　given　up　your　snake…hunting；　many's　the　

strange　talk　I　have　had　with　our　people　about　your　snake　and　

yourself；　and　how　you　frightened　my　father　and　mother　in　the　lane。'



'And　where　are　your　father　and　mother？'



'Where　I　shall　never　see　them；　brother；　at　least；　I　hope　so。'



'Not　dead？'



'No；　not　dead；　they　are　bitchadey　pawdel。'



'What's　that？'



'Sent　across　…　banished。'



'Ah！　I　understand；　I　am　sorry　for　them。　　And　so　you　are　here　

alone？'



'Not　quite　alone；　brother。'



'No；　not　alone；　but　with　the　rest　…　Tawno　Chikno　takes　care　of　

you。'



'Takes　care　of　me；　brother！'



'Yes；　stands　to　you　in　the　place　of　a　father　…　keeps　you　out　of　

harm's　way。'



'What　do　you　take　me　for；　brother？'



'For　about　three　years　older　than　myself。'



'Perhaps；　but　you　are　of　the　Gorgios；　and　I　am　a　Rommany　Chal。　　

Tawno　Chikno　take　care　of　Jasper　Petulengro！'



'Is　that　your　name？'



'Don't　you　like　it？'



'Very　much；　I　never　heard　a　sweeter；　it　is　something　like　what　you　

call　me。'



'The　horse…shoe　master　and　the　snake…fellow；　I　am　the　first。'



'Who　gave　you　that　name？'



'Ask　Pharaoh。'



'I　would；　if　he　were　here；　but　I　do　not　see　him。'



'I　am　Pharaoh。'



'Then　you　are　a　king。'



'Chachipen　Pal。'



'I　do　not　understand　you。'



'Where　are　your　languages？　　You　want　two　things；　brother：　　mother　

sense；　and　gentle　Rommany。'



'What　makes　you　think　that　I　want　sense？'



'That；　being　so　old；　you　can't　yet　guide　yourself！'



'I　can　read　Dante；　Jasper。'



'Anan；　brother。'



'I　can　charm　snakes；　Jasper。'



'I　know　you　can；　brother。'



'Yes；　and　horses　too；　bring　me　the　most　vicious　in　the　land；　if　I　

whisper　he'll　be　tame。'



'Then　the　more　shame　for　you　…　a　snake…fellow　…　a　horse…witch　…　and　

a　lil…reader　…　yet　you　can't　shift　for　yourself。　　I　laugh　at　you；　

brother！'



'Then　you　can　shift　for　yourself？'



'For　myself　and　for　others；　brother。'



'And　what　does　Chikno？'



'Sells　me　horses；　when　I　bid　him。　　Those　horses　on　the　chong　were　

mine。'



'And　has　he　none　of　his　own？'



'Sometimes　he　has；　but　he　is　not　so　well　off　as　myself。　　When　my　

father　and　mother　were　bitchadey　pawdel；　which；　to　tell　you　the　

truth；　they　were　for　chiving　wafodo　dloovu；　they　left　me　all　they　

had；　which　was　not　a　little；　and　I　became　the　head　of　our　family；　

which　was　not　a　small　one。　　I　was　not　older　than　you　when　that　

happened；　yet　our　people　said　they　had　never　a　better　krallis　to　

contrive　and　plan　for　them；　and　to　keep　them　in　order。　　And　this　is　

so　well　known　that　many　Rommany　Chals；　not　of　our　family；　come　and　

join　themselves　to　us；　living　with　us　for　a　time；　in　order　to　

better　themselves；　more　especially　those　of　the　poorer　sort；　who　

have　little　of　their　own。　　Tawno　is　one　of　these。'



'Is　that　fine　fellow　poor？'



'One　of　the　poorest；　brother。　　Handsome　as　he　is；　he　has　not　a　

horse　of　his　own　to　ride　on。　　Perhaps　we　may　put　it　down　to　his　

wife；　who　cannot　move　about；　being　a　cripple；　as　you　saw。'



'And　you　are　what　is　called　a　Gypsy　King？'



'Ay；　ay；　a　Rommany　Kral。'



'Are　there　other　kings？'



'Those　who　call　themselves　so；　but　the　true　Pharaoh　is　Petulengro。'



'Did　Pharaoh　make　horse…shoes？'



'The　first　who　ever　did；　brother。'



'Pharaoh　lived　in　Egypt。'



'So　did　we　once；　brother。'



'And　you　left　it？'



'My　fathers　did；　brother。'



'And　why　did　they　come　here？'



'They　had　their　reasons；　brother。'



'And　you　are　not　English？'



'We　are　not　gorgios。'



'And　you　have　a　language　of　your　own？'



'Avali。'



'This　is　wonderful。'



'Ha；　ha！'　cried　the　woman；　who　had　hitherto　sat　knitting；　at　the　

farther　end　of　the　tent；　without　saying　a　word；　though　not　

inattentive　to　our　conversation；　as　I　could　perceive　by　certain　

glances　which　she　occasionally　cast　upon　us　both。　　'Ha；　ha！'　she　

screamed；　fixing　upon　me　two　eyes；　which　shone　like　burning　coals；　

and　which　were　filled　with　an　expression　both　of　scorn　and　

malignity；　'It　is　wonderful；　is　it；　that　we　should　have　a　language　

of　our　own？　　What；　you　grudge　the　poor　people　the　speech　they　talk　

among　themselves？　　That's　just　like　you　gorgios；　you　would　have　

everybody　stupid；　single…tongued　idiots；　like　yourselves。　　We　are　

taken　before　the　Poknees　of　the　gav；　myself　and　sister；　to　give　an　

account　of　ourselves。　　So　I　says　to　my　sister's　little　boy；　

speaking　Rommany；　I　says　to　the　little　boy　who　is　with　us；　Run　to　

my　son　Jasper；　and　the　rest；　and　tell　them　to　be　off；　there　are　

hawks　abroad。　　So　the　Poknees　questions　us；　and　lets　us　go；　not　

being　able　to　make　anything　of　us；　but；　as　we　are　going；　he　calls　

us　back。　　〃Good　woman；〃　says　the　Poknees；　〃what　was　that　I　heard　

you　say　just　now　to　the　little　boy？〃　　〃I　was　telling　him；　your　

worship；　to　go　and　see　the　time　of　day；　and　to　save　trouble；　I　said　

it　in　our　language。〃　　〃Where　did　you　get　that　language？〃　says　the　

Poknees。　　〃'Tis　our　own　language；　sir；〃　I　tells　him；　〃we　did　not　

steal　it。〃　　〃Shall　I　tell　you　what　it　is；　my　good　woman？〃　says　the　

Poknees。　　〃I　would　thank　you；　sir；〃　says　I；　〃for　'tis　often　we　are　

asked　about　it。〃　　〃Well；　then；〃　says　the　Poknees；　〃it　is　no　

language　at　all；　merely　a　made…up　gibberish。〃　　〃Oh；　bless　your　

wisdom；〃　says　I；　with　a　curtsey；　〃you　can　tell　us　what　our　language　

is；　without　understanding　it！〃　　Another　time　we　meet　a　parson。　　

〃Good　woman；〃　says　he；　〃what's　that　you　are　talking？　　Is　it　broken　

language？〃　　〃Of　course；　your　reverence；〃　says　I；　〃we　are　broken　

people；　give　a　shilling；　your　reverence；　to　the　poor　broken　woman。〃　　

Oh；　these　gorgios！　they　grudge　us　our　very　language！'



'She　called　you　her　son；　Jasper？'



'I　am　her　son；　brother。'



'I　thoug