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Borrow, George Henry, 1803-1881

"The Zincali: an account of the gypsies of Spain"

'
MYSELF. - 'Have you ever met before with Calore who were not
Spaniards?'
ANTONIO. - 'I will tell you, brother. I served as a soldier in the
war of the independence against the French. War, it is true, is
not the proper occupation of a Gitano, but those were strange
times, and all those who could bear arms were compelled to go forth
to fight: so I went with the English armies, and we chased the
Gabine unto the frontier of France; and it happened once that we
joined in desperate battle, and there was a confusion, and the two
parties became intermingled and fought sword to sword and bayonet
to bayonet, and a French soldier singled me out, and we fought for
a long time, cutting, goring, and cursing each other, till at last
we flung down our arms and grappled; long we wrestled, body to
body, but I found that I was the weaker, and I fell. The French
soldier's knee was on my breast, and his grasp was on my throat,
and he seized his bayonet, and he raised it to thrust me through
the jaws; and his cap had fallen off, and I lifted up my eyes
wildly to his face, and our eyes met, and I gave a loud shriek, and
cried Zincalo, Zincalo! and I felt him shudder, and he relaxed his
grasp and started up, and he smote his forehead and wept, and then
he came to me and knelt down by my side, for I was almost dead, and
he took my hand and called me Brother and Zincalo, and he produced
his flask and poured wine into my mouth, and I revived, and he
raised me up, and led me from the concourse, and we sat down on a
knoll, and the two parties were fighting all around, and he said,
"Let the dogs fight, and tear each others' throats till they are
all destroyed, what matters it to the Zincali? they are not of our
blood, and shall that be shed for them?" So we sat for hours on
the knoll and discoursed on matters pertaining to our people; and I
could have listened for years, for he told me secrets which made my
ears tingle, and I soon found that I knew nothing, though I had
before considered myself quite Zincalo; but as for him, he knew the
whole cuenta; the Bengui Lango (43) himself could have told him
nothing but what he knew.


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