Scene IV.
—A post-house on the road to Segovia, not far from
the village of Guadarrama. Enter Chispa, cracking a whip,
and singing the cachucha.
Chispa.
Halloo! Don Fulano! Let us have
horses, and quickly. Alas, poor Chispa! what a
dog's life dost thou lead! I thought, when I left
my old master Victorian, the student, to serve my
new master Don Carlos, the gentleman, that I, too,
should lead the life of a gentleman; should go to
bed early, and get up late. For when the abbot
plays cards, what can you expect of the friars?
But, in running away from the thunder, I have
run into the lightning. Here I am in hot chase
after my master and his Gypsy girl. And a good
beginning of the week it is, as he said who was
hanged on Monday morning.
(Enter Don Carlos.)
Don C.
Are not the horses ready yet?
Chispa.
I should think not, for the hostler
seems to be asleep. Ho! within there! Horses!
horses! horses!
(He knocks at the gate with his
whip, and enter Mosquito, putting on his jacket.)
Mosq.
Pray, have a little patience.
I'm not a musket.
Chispa.
Health and pistareens! I'm glad to
see you come on dancing, padre! Pray, what 's
the news?
Mosq.
You cannot have fresh horses; because
there are none.
Chispa.
Cachiporra! Throw that bone to another
dog. Do I look like your aunt?
Mosq.
No; she has a beard.
Chispa.
Go to! go to!
Mosq.
Are you from Madrid?
Chispa.
Yes; and going to Estramadura. Get
us horses.
Mosq.
What 's the news at Court?
Chispa.
Why, the latest news is, that I am
going to set up a coach, and I have already bought
the whip.
(Strikes him round the legs.)
Mosq.
Oh! oh! you hurt me!
Don C.
Enough of this folly. Let us have
horses.
(Gives money to Mosquito.)
It is
almost dark; and we are in haste. But tell me,
has a band of Gypsies passed this way of late?
Mosq.
Yes; and they are still in the neighborhood.
Don C.
And where?
Mosq.
Across the fields yonder, in the woods
near Guadarrama.
[Exit.
Don C.
Now this is lucky. We will visit the
Gypsy camp.
Chispa.
Are you not afraid of the evil eye?
“In the Gitano language, casting the evil eye is called
Querelar nasula, which simply means making sick, and
which, according to the common superstition, is accomplished
by casting an evil look at people, especially children,
who, from the tenderness of their constitution, are supposed
to be more easily blighted than those of a more mature age.
After receiving the evil glance, they fall sick, and die in a
few hours.
“The Spaniards have very little to say respecting the
evil eye, though the belief in it is very prevalent, especially
in Andalusia, amongst the lower orders. A stag's horn is
considered a good safeguard, and on that account a small
horn, tipped with silver, is frequently attached to the children's
necks by means of a cord braided from the hair of
a black mare's tail. Should the evil glance be cast, it is
imagined that the horn receives it, and instantly snaps
asunder. Such horns may be purchased in some of the
silversmiths' shops at Seville.”—
Borrow's
Zincali, vol. i., ch. 9.
Have you a stag's horn with you?
Don C.
Fear not. We will pass the night at
the village.
Chispa.
And sleep like the Squires of Hernan
Daza, nine under one blanket.
Don C.
I hope we may find the Preciosa among
them.
Chispa.
Among the Squires?
Don C.
No; among the Gypsies, blockhead!
Chispa.
I hope we may; for we are giving ourselves
trouble enough on her account. Don't you
think so? However, there is no catching trout
without wetting one's trousers. Yonder come the
horses.
[Exeunt.
