“Lor’, brother! how book-learned you be.”
“Indifferently so, Jasper. Then you think you might trust your wife with the duke?”
“I think I could, brother, or even with yourself.”
“Myself, Jasper! Oh, I never troubled my head about your wife; but I suppose there have been love affairs between gorgios and Romany chies. Why, novels are stuffed with such matters; and then even one of your own songs says so—the song which Ursula was singing the other afternoon.”
“That is somewhat of an old song, brother, and is sung by the chies as a warning at our solemn festivals.”
“Well! but there’s your sister-in-law, Ursula, herself, Jasper.”
“Ursula, herself, brother?”
“You were talking of my having her, Jasper.”
“Well, brother, why didn’t you have her?”
“Would she have had me?”
“Of course, brother. You are so much of a Roman, and speak Romany so remarkably well.”
“Poor thing! she looks very innocent!”
“Remarkably so, brother! However, though not born on the same common with my wife, she knows a thing or two of Roman matters.”
“I should like to ask her a question or two, Jasper, in connection with that song.”
“You can do no better, brother. Here we are at the camp. After tea, take Ursula under a hedge, and ask her a question or two in connection with that song.”
CHAPTER X.
SUNDAY EVENING—URSULA—ACTION AT LAW—MERIDIANA—MARRIED ALREADY.
I took tea that evening with Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro and Ursula, outside of their tent. Tawno was not present, being engaged with his wife in his own tabernacle; Sylvester was there, however, lolling listlessly upon the ground. As I looked upon this man, I thought him one of the most disagreeable fellows I had ever seen. His features were ugly, and, moreover, as dark as pepper; and, besides being dark, his skin was dirty. As for his dress, it was torn and sordid. His chest was broad, and his arms seemed powerful; but, upon the whole, he looked a very caitiff. “I am sorry that man has lost his wife,” thought I; “for I am sure he will never get another.” What surprises me is, that he ever found a woman disposed to unite her lot with his!
After tea I got up and strolled about the field. My thoughts were upon Isopel Berners. I wondered where she was, and how long she would stay away. At length becoming tired and listless, I determined to return to the dingle, and resume the reading of the Bible at the place where I had left off. “What better could I do,” methought, “on a Sunday evening?” I was then near the wood which surrounded the dingle, but at that side which was farthest from the encampment, which stood near the entrance. Suddenly, on turning round the southern corner of the copse, which surrounded the dingle, I perceived Ursula seated under a thorn-bush. I thought I never saw her look prettier than then, dressed as she was, in her Sunday’s best.
“Good evening, Ursula,” said I; “I little thought to have the pleasure of seeing you here.”
“Nor would you, brother,” said Ursula, “had not Jasper told me that you had been talking about me, and wanted to speak to me under a hedge; so, hearing that, I watched your motions, and came here and sat down.”
“I was thinking of going to my quarters in the dingle, to read the Bible, Ursula, but …”
“Oh, pray then, go to your quarters, brother, and read the Miduveleskoe lil; you can speak to me under a hedge some other time.”
“I think I will sit down with you, Ursula; for, after all, reading godly books in dingles at eve is rather sombre work. Yes, I think I will sit down with you;” and I sat down by her side.
“Well, brother, now you have sat down with me under the hedge, what have you to say to me?”
“Why, I hardly know, Ursula.”
“Not know, brother; a pretty fellow you to ask young women to come and sit with you under hedges, and, when they come, not know what to say to them.”
“Oh! ah! I remember; do you know, Ursula, that I take a great interest in you?”
“Thank ye, brother; kind of you, at any rate.”
“You must be exposed to a great many temptations, Ursula.”
“A great many indeed, brother. It is hard to see fine things, such as shawls, gold watches, and chains in the shops, behind the big glasses, and to know that they are not intended for one. Many’s the time I have been tempted to make a dash at them; but I bethought myself that by so doing I should cut my hands, besides being almost certain of being grabbed and sent across the gull’s bath to the foreign country.”
“Then you think gold and fine things temptations, Ursula?”
“Of course, brother, very great temptations; don’t you think them so?”
“Can’t say I do, Ursula.”
“Then more fool you, brother; but have the kindness to tell me what you would call a temptation?”
“Why, for example, the hope of honour and renown, Ursula.”
“The hope of honour and renown! very good, brother; but I tell you one thing, that unless you have money in your pocket, and good broadcloth on your back, you are not likely to obtain much honour and—what do you call it? amongst the gorgios, to say nothing of the Romany chals.”
“I should have thought, Ursula, that the Romany chals, roaming about the world as they do, free and independent, were above being led by such trifles.”
“Then you know nothing of the gypsies, brother; no people on earth are fonder of those trifles, as you call them, than the Romany chals, or more disposed to respect those who have them.”
“Then money and fine clothes would induce you to do anything, Ursula?”
“Ay, ay, brother, anything.”
“To chore, Ursula?”
“Like enough, brother; gypsies have been transported before now for choring.”
“To hokkawar?”
“Ay, ay; I was telling dukkerin only yesterday, brother.”
“In fact, to break the law in everything?”
“Who knows, brother, who knows? as I said before, gold and fine clothes are great temptations.”
“Well, Ursula, I am sorry for it, I should never
