It might be about five in the evening when I reached the gypsy encampment. Here I found Mr. Petulengro, Tawno Chikno, Sylvester, and others, in a great bustle, clipping and trimming certain ponies and old horses which they had brought with them. On inquiring of Jasper the reason of their being so engaged, he informed me that they were getting the horses ready for a fair, which was to be held on the morrow, at a place some miles distant, at which they should endeavour to dispose of them, adding—“Perhaps, brother, you will go with us, provided you have nothing better to do?” Not having any particular engagement, I assured him that I should have great pleasure in being of the party. It was agreed that we should start early on the following morning. Thereupon I descended into the dingle. Belle was sitting before the fire, at which the kettle was boiling. “Were you waiting for me?” I inquired. “Yes,” said Belle, “I thought that you would come, “I was merely giving two examples,” said I, “and neither was directed at you. In those examples, to command and hate are verbs. Belle, in Armenian there are four conjugations of verbs; the first end in al, the second in yel, the third in oul, and the fourth in il. Now, have you understood me?” “I am afraid, indeed, it will all end ill,” said Belle. “Hold your tongue,” said I, “or you will make me lose my patience.” “You have already made me nearly lose mine,” said Belle. “Let us have no unprofitable interruptions,” said I. “The conjugations of the Armenian verbs are neither so numerous nor so difficult as the declensions of the nouns; hear that, and rejoice. Come, we will begin with the verb hntal, a verb of the first conjugation, which signifies to rejoice. Come along: hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou rejoicest: why don’t you follow, Belle?” “I am sure I don’t rejoice, whatever you may do,” said Belle. “The chief difficulty, Belle,” said I, “that I find in teaching you the Armenian grammar, proceeds from your applying to yourself and me every example I give. Rejoice, in this instance, is merely an example of an Armenian verb of the first conjugation, and has no more to do with your rejoicing than lal, which is also a verb of the first conjugation, and which signifies “I can’t,” said Belle, “they sound more like the language of horses than of human beings. Do you take me for . . .?” “For what?” said I. Belle was silent. “Were you going to say mare?” said I. “Mare! mare! by-the-bye, do you know, Belle, that mare in old English stands for woman; and that when we call a female an evil mare, the strict meaning of the term is merely bad woman. So if I were to call you mare, without prefixing bad, you must not be offended.” “But I should, though,” said Belle. “I was merely attempting to make you acquainted with a philological fact,” said I. “If mare, which in old English, and likewise in vulgar English, signifies a woman, sounds the same as mare, which in modern and polite English signifies a female horse, I can’t help it. There is no such confusion of sounds in Armenian, not, at least, in the same instance. Belle, in Armenian, woman is ghin, the same word, by-the-bye, as our queen, whereas mare is madagh tzi, which signifies a female horse; and perhaps you will permit me to add, that a hard-mouthed jade is, in Armenian, madagh tzi hsdierah.” “I can’t bear this much longer,” said Belle. “Keep yourself quiet,” said I; “I wish to be gentle with you; and to convince you, we will skip hntal, and also for the present verbs of the first conjugation, and proceed to the second. Belle, I will now select for you to “And I have said all these things?” said Belle. “Yes,” said I; “you have said them in Armenian.” “I would have said them in no language that I understood,” said Belle; “and it was very wrong of you to “You do, you do,” said Belle; “and it will be better for both of us if you leave off doing so.” “You would hardly believe, Belle,” said I, “that the “You do, indeed,” said Belle, sobbing. “But how do you account for it?” “O man, man!” said Belle, bursting into tears, “for what purpose do you ask a poor ignorant girl such a question, unless it be to vex and irritate her? If you wish to display your learning, do so to the wise and instructed, and not to me, who can scarcely read or write. Oh, leave off your nonsense; yet I know you will not do so, for it is the breath of your nostrils! I could have wished we should have parted in kindness, but you will not permit it. I have deserved better at your hands than such treatment. The whole time we have kept company together in this place, I have scarcely had one kind word from you, but the strangest . . .” and here the voice of Belle was drowned in her sobs. “I am sorry to see you take on so, dear Belle,” said I. “I really have given you no cause to be so unhappy; surely teaching you a little Armenian was a very innocent kind of diversion.” “Yes, but you went on so long, and in such a strange way, and made me repeat such strange examples, as you call them, that I could not bear it.” “Why, to tell you the truth, Belle, it’s my way; and I have dealt with you just as I would with . . .” “A hard-mouthed jade,” said Belle, “and you “Boast of!” said I; “a pretty thing indeed to boast of; I had no idea of making you cry. Come, I beg your pardon; what more can I do? Come, cheer up, Belle. You were talking of parting; don’t let us part, but depart, and that together.” “Our ways lie different,” said Belle. “I don’t see why they should,” said I. “Come, let us be off to America together!” “To America together?” said Belle, looking full at me. “Yes,” said I; “where we will settle down in some forest, and conjugate the verb siriel conjugally.” “Conjugally?” said Belle. “Yes,” said I; “as man and wife in America, air yew ghin.” “You are jesting, as usual,” said Belle. “Not I, indeed. Come, Belle, make up your mind, and let us be off to America; and leave priests, humbug, learning, and languages behind us.” “I don’t think you arc jesting,” said Belle; “but I can hardly entertain your offers; however, young man, I thank you.” “You had better make up your mind at once,” said I, “and let us be off. I shan’t make a bad husband, I assure you. Perhaps you think I am not worthy of you? To convince you, Belle, that I am, I am ready to try a “I require no such thing of you, or anybody,” said Belle; “you are beginning to look rather wild.” “I every now and then do,” said I; “come, Belle, what do you say?” “I will say nothing at present on the subject,” said Belle; “I must have time to consider.” “Just as you please,” said I; “to-morrow I go to a fair with Mr. Petulengro, perhaps you will consider whilst I am away. Come, Belle, let us have some more tea. I wonder whether we shall be able to procure tea as good as this in the American forest.” |