George Borrow | Page 8

visit
to Spain. He mounts the heroic figure upon an heroic horse:
"So it came to pass," he says, "that one day I was scampering over a
heath, at some distance from my present home: I was mounted upon the
good horse Sidi Habismilk, and the Jew of Fez, swifter than the wind,
ran by the side of the good horse Habismilk, when what should I see at
a corner of the heath but the encampment of certain friends of mine;
and the chief of that camp, even Mr. Petulengro, stood before the

encampment, and his adopted daughter, Miss Pinfold, stood beside
him.
"Myself.--'Kosko divvus, {17a} Mr. Petulengro! I am glad to see you:
how are you getting on?'
"Mr. Petulengro.--'How am I getting on? as well as I can. What will
you have for that nokengro?' {17b}
"Thereupon I dismounted, and delivering the reins of the good horse to
Miss Pinfold, I took the Jew of Fez, even Hayim Ben Attar, by the hand,
and went up to Mr. Petulengro, exclaiming, 'Sure ye are two brothers.'
Anon the Gypsy passed his hand over the Jew's face, and stared him in
the eyes: then turning to me, he said, 'We are not dui palor; {17c} this
man is no Roman; I believe him to be a Jew; he has the face of one;
besides if he were a Rom, even from Jericho, he could rokra a few
words in Rommany.'"
Still more important than this equestrian figure of Borrow on Sidi
Habismilk is the note on "The English Dialect of the Rommany" hidden
away at the end of the second edition of "The Zincali."
"'Tachipen if I jaw 'doi, I can lel a bit of tan to hatch: N'etist I shan't
puch kekomi wafu gorgies.'
"The above sentence, dear reader, I heard from the mouth of Mr.
Petulengro, the last time that he did me the honour to visit me at my
poor house, which was the day after Mol-divvus, {18a} 1842: he stayed
with me during the greatest part of the morning, discoursing on the
affairs of Egypt, the aspect of which, he assured me, was becoming
daily worse and worse. 'There is no living for the poor people, brother,'
said he, 'the chokengres (police) pursue us from place to place, and the
gorgios are become either so poor or miserly, that they grudge our
cattle a bite of grass by the way side, and ourselves a yard of ground to
light a fire upon. Unless times alter, brother, and of that I see no
probability, unless you are made either poknees or mecralliskoe geiro
(justice of the peace or prime minister), I am afraid the poor persons
will have to give up wandering altogether, and then what will become

of them?
"'However, brother,' he continued, in a more cheerful tone: 'I am no
hindity mush, {18b} as you well know. I suppose you have not forgot
how, fifteen years ago, when you made horse-shoes in the little dingle
by the side of the great north road, I lent you fifty cottors {18c} to
purchase the wonderful trotting cob of the innkeeper with the green
Newmarket coat, which three days after you sold for two hundred.
"'Well, brother, if you had wanted the two hundred, instead of the fifty,
I could have lent them to you, and would have done so, for I knew you
would not be long pazorrhus to me. I am no hindity mush, brother, no
Irishman; I laid out the other day twenty pounds, in buying ruponoe
peamengries; {19a} and in the Chong-gav, {19b} have a house of my
own with a yard behind it.
"'And, forsooth, if I go thither, I can choose a place to light a fire upon,
and shall have no necessity to ask leave of these here Gentiles.'
"Well, dear reader, this last is the translation of the Gypsy sentence
which heads the chapter, and which is a very characteristic specimen of
the general way of speaking of the English Gypsies."
Here be mysteries. The author of "The Bible in Spain" is not only taken
for a Gypsy, but once upon a time made horse-shoes in a dingle beside
the great north road and trafficked in horses. When Borrow told John
Murray of the Christmas meeting with Ambrose Smith, whom he now
called "The Gypsy King," he said he was dressed in "true regal
fashion." On the last day of that year he told Murray that he often
meditated on his "life" and was arranging scenes. That reminder about
the dingle and the wonderful trotting cob, and the Christmas wine, was
stirring his brain. In two months time he had begun to write his "Life."
He got back from the Bible Society the letters written to them when he
was their representative