This house of harlotry doth smell,
I flee as from the pest;
Your mother likes my sire too well;
To hie me home is best.
The girl I love more dear than life,
Should other gallant woo,
I'd straight unsheath my dudgeon knife
And cut his weasand through;
Or he, the conqueror in the strife,
The same to me should do.
Loud sang the Spanish cavalier,
And thus his ditty ran:
God send the Gypsy lassie here,
And not the Gypsy man.
At midnight, when the moon began
To show her silver flame,
There came to him no Gypsy man,
The Gypsy lassie came.
CHAPTER II
THE Gitanos, abject and vile as they have ever been, have
nevertheless found admirers in Spain, individuals who have taken
pleasure in their phraseology, pronunciation, and way of life; but
above all, in the songs and dances of the females. This desire for
cultivating their acquaintance is chiefly prevalent in Andalusia,
where, indeed, they most abound; and more especially in the town of
Seville, the capital of the province, where, in the barrio or
Faubourg of Triana, a large Gitano colon has long flourished, with
the denizens of which it is at all times easy to have intercourse,
especially to those who are free of their money, and are willing to
purchase such a gratification at the expense of dollars and
pesetas.
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