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第61章

the zincali-第61章

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the friar who opened it a couplet which he had composed in the 



Gypsy tongue; in which he stated the highest price which he was 



authorised to give for the animal in question; whereupon the friar 



instantly answered in the same tongue in an extemporary couplet 



full of abuse of him and his employer; and forthwith slammed the 



door in the face of the disconcerted jockey。







An Augustine friar of Seville; called; we believe; Father Manso; 



who lived some twenty years ago; is still remembered for his 



passion for the Gitanos; he seemed to be under the influence of 



fascination; and passed every moment that he could steal from his 



clerical occupations in their company。  His conduct at last became 



so notorious that he fell under the censure of the Inquisition; 



before which he was summoned; whereupon he alleged; in his defence; 



that his sole motive for following the Gitanos was zeal for their 



spiritual conversion。  Whether this plea availed him we know not; 



but it is probable that the Holy Office dealt mildly with him; such 



offenders; indeed; have never had much to fear from it。  Had he 



been accused of liberalism; or searching into the Scriptures; 



instead of connection with the Gitanos; we should; doubtless; have 



heard either of his execution or imprisonment for life in the cells 



of the cathedral of Seville。







Such as are thus addicted to the Gitanos and their language; are 



called; in Andalusia; Los del' Aficion; or those of the 



predilection。  These people have; during the last fifty years; 



composed a spurious kind of Gypsy literature:  we call it spurious 



because it did not originate with the Gitanos; who are; moreover; 



utterly unacquainted with it; and to whom it would be for the most 



part unintelligible。  It is somewhat difficult to conceive the 



reason which induced these individuals to attempt such 



compositions; the only probable one seems to have been a desire to 



display to each other their skill in the language of their 



predilection。  It is right; however; to observe; that most of these 



compositions; with respect to language; are highly absurd; the 



greatest liberties being taken with the words picked up amongst the 



Gitanos; of the true meaning of which the writers; in many 



instances; seem to have been entirely ignorant。  From what we can 



learn; the composers of this literature flourished chiefly at the 



commencement of the present century:  Father Manso is said to have 



been one of the last。  Many of their compositions; which are both 



in poetry and prose; exist in manuscript in a compilation made by 



one Luis Lobo。  It has never been our fortune to see this 



compilation; which; indeed; we scarcely regret; as a rather curious 



circumstance has afforded us a perfect knowledge of its contents。







Whilst at Seville; chance made us acquainted with a highly 



extraordinary individual; a tall; bony; meagre figure; in a 



tattered Andalusian hat; ragged capote; and still more ragged 



pantaloons; and seemingly between forty and fifty years of age。  



The only appellation to which he answered was Manuel。  His 



occupation; at the time we knew him; was selling tickets for the 



lottery; by which he obtained a miserable livelihood in Seville and 



the neighbouring villages。  His appearance was altogether wild and 



uncouth; and there was an insane expression in his eye。  Observing 



us one day in conversation with a Gitana; he addressed us; and we 



soon found that the sound of the Gitano language had struck a chord 



which vibrated through the depths of his soul。  His history was 



remarkable; in his early youth a manuscript copy of the compilation 



of Luis Lobo had fallen into his hands。  This book had so taken 



hold of his imagination; that he studied it night and day until he 



had planted it in his memory from beginning to end; but in so 



doing; his brain; like that of the hero of Cervantes; had become 



dry and heated; so that he was unfitted for any serious or useful 



occupation。  After the death of his parents he wandered about the 



streets in great distress; until at last he fell into the hands of 



certain toreros; or bull…fighters; who kept him about them; in 



order that he might repeat to them the songs of the AFICION。  They 



subsequently carried him to Madrid; where; however; they soon 



deserted him after he had experienced much brutality from their 



hands。  He returned to Seville; and soon became the inmate of a 



madhouse; where he continued several years。  Having partially 



recovered from his malady; he was liberated; and wandered about as 



before。  During the cholera at Seville; when nearly twenty thousand 



human beings perished; he was appointed conductor of one of the 



death…carts; which went through the streets for the purpose of 



picking up the dead bodies。  His perfect inoffensiveness eventually 



procured him friends; and he obtained the situation of vendor of 



lottery tickets。  He frequently visited us; and would then recite 



long passages from the work of Lobo。  He was wont to say that he 



was the only one in Seville; at the present day; acquainted with 



the language of the Aficion; for though there were many pretenders; 



their knowledge was confined to a few words。







From the recitation of this individual; we wrote down the 



Brijindope; or Deluge; and the poem on the plague which broke out 



in Seville in the year 1800。  These and some songs of less 



consequence; constitute the poetical part of the compilation in 



question; the rest; which is in prose; consisting chiefly of 



translations from the Spanish; of proverbs and religious pieces。











BRIJINDOPE。 … THE DELUGE (65)



A POEM:  IN TWO PARTS



PART THE FIRST











I with fear and terror quake;



Whilst the pen to write I take;



I will utter many a pray'r



To the heaven's Regent fair;



That she deign to succour me;



And I'll humbly bend my knee;



For but poorly do I know



With my subject on to go;



Therefore is my wisest plan



Not to trust in strength of man。



I my heavy sins bewail;



Whilst I view the wo and wail



Handed down so solemnly



In the book of times gone by。



Onward; onward; now I'll move



In the name of Christ above;



And his Mother true and dear;



She who loves the wretch to cheer。



All I know; and all I've heard



I will state … how God appear'd



And to Noah thus did cry:



Weary with the world am I;



Let an ark by thee be built;



For the world is lost in guilt;



And when thou hast built it well;



Loud proclaim what now I tell:



Straight repent ye; for your Lord



In his hand doth hold a sword。



And good Noah thus did call:



Straight repent ye one and all;



For the world with grief I see



Lost in vileness utterly。



God's own mandate I but do;



He hath sent me unto you。



Laugh'd the world to bitter scorn;



I his cruel sufferings mourn;



Brawny youths with furious air



Drag the Patriarch by the hair;



Lewdness governs every one:



Leaves her convent now the nun;



And the monk abroad I see



Practising iniquity。



Now I'll tell how God; intent



To avenge; a vapour sent;



With full many a dreadful sign …



Mighty; mighty fear is mine:



As I hear the thunders roll;



Seems to die my very soul;



As I see the world o'erspread



All with darkness thick and dread;



I the pen can scarcely ply



For the tears which dim my eye;



And o'ercome with grievous wo;



Fear the task I must forego



I have purposed to perform。 …



Hark; I hear upon the storm



Thousand; thousand devils fly;



Who with awful howlings cry:



Now's the time and now's the hour;



We have licence; we have power



To obtain a glorious prey。 …



I with horror turn away;



Tumbles house and tumbles wall;

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