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Romany Rye, The
Chapter 5. Fresh Arrivals--Pitching The Tent...
George Borrow
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       _ CHAPTER V. Fresh Arrivals--Pitching the Tent--Certificated Wife--High-flying Notions
       On the following morning, as I was about to leave my tent, I heard the voice of Belle at the door, exclaiming, "Sleepest thou, or wakest thou?" "I was never more awake in my life," said I, going out. "What is the matter?" "He of the horse-shoe," said she, "Jasper, of whom I have heard you talk, is above there on the field with all his people; I went out about a quarter of an hour ago to fill the kettle at the spring, and saw them arriving." "It is well," said I; "have you any objection to asking him and his wife to breakfast?" "You can do as you please," said she; "I have cups enough, and have no objection to their company." "We are the first occupiers of the ground," said I, "and, being so, should consider ourselves in the light of hosts, and do our best to practise the duties of hospitality." "How fond you are of using that word," said Belle; "if you wish to invite the man and his wife, do so, without more ado; remember, however, that I have not cups enough, nor indeed tea enough, for the whole company." Thereupon hurrying up the ascent, I presently found myself outside the dingle. It was as usual a brilliant morning, the dewy blades of the rye-grass which covered the plain sparkled brightly in the beams of the sun, which had probably been about two hours above the horizon. A rather numerous body of my ancient friends and allies occupied the ground in the vicinity of the mouth of the dingle. About five yards on the right I perceived Mr. Petulengro busily employed in erecting his tent; he held in his hand an iron bar, sharp at the bottom, with a kind of arm projecting from the top for the purpose of supporting a kettle or cauldron over the fire, and which is called in the Romanian language "Kekauviskoe saster." With the sharp end of this Mr. Petulengro was making holes in the earth, at about twenty inches distant from each other, into which he inserted certain long rods with a considerable bend towards the top, which constituted no less than the timber of the tent, and the supporters of the canvas. Mrs. Petulengro, and a female with a crutch in her hand, whom I recognised as Mrs. Chikno, sat near him on the ground, whilst two or three children, from six to ten years old, who composed the young family of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro, were playing about.
       "Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, as he drove the sharp end of the bar into the ground; "here we are, and plenty of us--Bute dosta Romany chals."
       "I am glad to see you all," said I; "and particularly you, madam," said I, making a bow to Mrs. Petulengro; "and you also, madam," taking off my hat to Mrs. Chikno.
       "Good-day to you, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro; "you look, as usual, charmingly, and speak so, too; you have not forgot your manners."
       "It is not all gold that glitters," said Mrs. Chikno. "However, good- morrow to you, young rye."
       "I do not see Tawno," said I, looking around; "where is he?"
       "Where, indeed!" said Mrs. Chikno; "I don't know; he who countenances him in the roving line can best answer."
       "He will be here anon," said Mr. Petulengro; "he has merely ridden down a by-road to show a farmer a two-year-old colt; she heard me give him directions, but she can't be satisfied."
       "I can't indeed," said Mrs. Chikno.
       "And why not, sister?"
       "Because I place no confidence in your words, brother; as I said before, you countenances him."
       "Well," said I, "I know nothing of your private concerns; I am come on an errand. Isopel Berners, down in the dell there, requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro's company at breakfast. She will be happy also to see you, madam," said I, addressing Mrs. Chikno.
       "Is that young female your wife, young man?" said Mrs. Chikno.
       "My wife?" said I.
       "Yes, young man; your wife, your lawful certificated wife?"
       "No," said I; "she is not my wife."
       "Then I will not visit with her," said Mrs. Chikno; "I countenance nothing in the roving line."
       "What do you mean by the roving line?" I demanded.
       "What do I mean by the roving line? Why, by it I mean such conduct as is not tatcheno. When ryes and rawnies live together in dingles, without being certificated, I call such behaviour being tolerably deep in the roving line, everything savouring of which I am determined not to sanctify. I have suffered too much by my own certificated husband's outbreaks in that line to afford anything of the kind the slightest shadow of countenance."
       "It is hard that people may not live in dingles together without being suspected of doing wrong," said I.
       "So it is," said Mrs. Petulengro, interposing; "and, to tell you the truth, I am altogether surprised at the illiberality of my sister's remarks. I have often heard say, that it is in good company--and I have kept good company in my time--that suspicion is king's evidence of a narrow and uncultivated mind; on which account I am suspicious of nobody, not even of my own husband, whom some people would think I have a right to be suspicious of, seeing that on his account I once refused a lord; but ask him whether I am suspicious of him, and whether I seek to keep him close tied to my apron-string; he will tell you nothing of the kind; but that, on the contrary, I always allows him an agreeable latitude, permitting him to go where he pleases, and to converse with any one to whose manner of speaking he may take a fancy. But I have had the advantage of keeping good company, and therefore--"
       "Meklis," said Mrs. Chikno, "pray drop all that, sister; I believe I have kept as good company as yourself; and with respect to that offer with which you frequently fatigue those who keeps company with you, I believe, after all, it was something in the roving and uncertificated line."
       "In whatever line it was," said Mrs. Petulengro, "the offer was a good one. The young duke--for he was not only a lord, but a duke too--offered to keep me a fine carriage, and to make me his second wife; for it is true that he had another who was old and stout, though mighty rich, and highly good-natured; so much so, indeed, that the young lord assured me that she would have no manner of objection to the arrangement; more especially if I would consent to live in the same house with her, being fond of young and cheerful society. So you see--"
       "Yes, yes," said Mrs. Chikno, "I see, what I before thought, that it was altogether in the uncertificated line."
       "Meklis," said Mrs. Petulengro; "I use your own word, madam, which is Romany: for my own part, I am not fond of using Romany words, unless I can hope to pass them off for French, which I cannot in the present company. I heartily wish that there was no such language, and do my best to keep it away from my children, lest the frequent use of it should altogether confirm them in low and vulgar habits. I have four children, madam, but--"
       "I suppose by talking of your four children you wish to check me for having none," said Mrs. Chikno, bursting into tears; "if I have no children, sister, it is no fault of mine, it is--but why do I call you sister?" said she, angrily; "you are no sister of mine, you are a grasni, a regular mare--a pretty sister, indeed, ashamed of your own language. I remember well that by your high-flying notions you drove your own mother--"
       "We will drop it," said Mrs. Petulengro; "I do not wish to raise my voice, and to make myself ridiculous. Young gentleman," said she, "pray present my compliments to Miss Isopel Berners, and inform her that I am very sorry that I cannot accept her polite invitation. I am just arrived, and have some slight domestic matters to see to--amongst others, to wash my children's faces; but that in the course of the forenoon, when I have attended to what I have to do, and have dressed myself, I hope to do myself the honour of paying her a regular visit; you will tell her that, with my compliments. With respect to my husband he can answer for himself, as I, not being of a jealous disposition, never interferes with his matters."
       "And tell Miss Berners," said Mr. Petulengro, "that I shall be happy to wait upon her in company with my wife as soon as we are regularly settled: at present I have much on my hands, having not only to pitch my own tent, but this here jealous woman's, whose husband is absent on my business."
       Thereupon I returned to the dingle, and, without saying anything about Mrs. Chikno's observations, communicated to Isopel the messages of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro; Isopel made no other reply than by replacing in her coffer two additional cups and saucers, which, in expectation of company, she had placed upon the board. The kettle was by this time boiling. We sat down, and, as we breakfasted, I gave Isopel Berners another lesson in the Armenian language. _
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本书目录

Chapter 1. The Making Of The Linch-Pin--The Sound Sleeper...
Chapter 2. The Man In Black--The Emperor Of Germany...
Chapter 3. Necessity Of Religion--The Great Indian One...
Chapter 4. The Proposal--The Scotch Novel...
Chapter 5. Fresh Arrivals--Pitching The Tent...
Chapter 6. The Promised Visit--Roman Fashion...
Chapter 7. The Festival--The Gypsy Song...
Chapter 8. The Church--The Aristocratical Pew...
Chapter 9. Return From Church--The Cuckoo And Gypsy...
Chapter 10. Sunday Evening--Ursula--Action At Law...
Chapter 11. Ursula's Tale--The Patteran--The Deep Water...
Chapter 12. The Dingle At Night--The Two Sides Of The Question...
Chapter 13. Visit To The Landlord--His Mortifications...
Chapter 14. Preparations For The Fair--The Last Lesson...
Chapter 15. The Dawn Of Day--The Last Farewell...
Chapter 16. Gloomy Forebodings--The Postman's Mother...
Chapter 17. The Public-House--Landlord On His Legs Again...
Chapter 18. Mr. Petulengro's Device--The Leathern Purse...
Chapter 19. Trying The Horse--The Feats Of Tawno...
Chapter 20. Farewell To The Romans--The Landlord And His Niece...
Chapter 21. An Adventure On The Road--The Six Flint Stone...
Chapter 22. The Singular Noise--Sleeping In A Meadow...
Chapter 23. Drivers And Front Outside Passengers...
Chapter 24. An Inn Of Times Gone By--A First-Rate Publican...
Chapter 25. Stable Hartshorn--How To Manage A Horse On A Journey...
Chapter 26. The Stage--Coachmen Of England...
Chapter 27. Francis Ardry--His Misfortunes...
Chapter 28. Mr. Platitude And The Man In Black...
Chapter 29. Deliberations With Self-Resolution...
Chapter 30. Triumphal Departure--No Season Like Youth...
Chapter 31. A Novel Situation--The Elderly Individual...
Chapter 32. The Morning After A Fall--The Teapot...
Chapter 33. Convalescence--The Surgeon's Bill...
Chapter 34. The Old Man's Story Continued...
Chapter 35. The Leave-Taking--Spirit Of The Hearth...
Chapter 36. Arrival At Horncastle--The Inn And Ostlers...
Chapter 37. Horncastle Fair
Chapter 38. High Dutch
Chapter 39. The Hungarian
Chapter 40. The Horncastle Welcome--Tzernebock And Bielebock
Chapter 41. The Jockey's Tale--Thieves' Latin...
Chapter 42. A Short-Tempered Person--Gravitation...
Chapter 43. The Church
Chapter 44. An Old Acquaintance
Chapter 45. Murtagh's Tale
Chapter 46. Murtagh's Story Continued...
Chapter 47. Departure From Horncastle...
Appendix: Chapter 1. A Word For Lavengro
Appendix: Chapter 2. On Priestcraft
Appendix: Chapter 3. On Foreign Nonsense
Appendix: Chapter 4. On Gentility Nonsense...
Appendix: Chapter 5. Subject Of Gentility Continued
Appendix: Chapter 6. On Scotch Gentility-Nonsense...
Appendix: Chapter 7. Same Subject Continued
Appendix: Chapter 8. On Canting Nonsense
Appendix: Chapter 9. Pseudo-Critics
Appendix: Chapter 10. Pseudo-Radicals
Appendix: Chapter 11. The Old Radical