_First Gypsy_.—‘Arromáli (in truth), I little thought when I saw the erraño standing by the door of the posada that I was about to meet a brother—one too who, though well dressed, was not ashamed to speak to a poor Gitáno; but tell me, I beg you, brother, from whence you come; I have heard that you have just arrived from Laloró, but I am sure you are no Portuguese; the Portuguese are very different from you; I know it, for I have been in Laloró; I rather take you to be one of the Corahai, for I have heard say that there is much of our blood there. You are a Corahano, are you not?’ _Myself_.—‘I am no Moor, though I have been in the country. I was born in an island in the West Sea, called England, which I suppose you have heard spoken of.’ _First Gypsy_.—‘Yes, yes, I have a right to know something of the English. I was born in this foros, and remember the day when the English hundunares clambered over the walls, and took the town from the Gabiné: well do I remember that day, though I was but a child; the streets ran red with blood and wine! Are there Gitános then amongst the English?’ _Myself_.—‘There are numbers, and so there are amongst most nations of the world.’ _Second Gypsy_.—‘Vaya! And do the English Caloré gain their bread in the same way as those of Spain? Do they shear and trim? Do they buy and change beasts, and (lowering his voice) do they now and then chore a gras?’ {181} _Myself_.—‘They do most of these things: the men frequent fairs and markets with horses, many of which they steal; and the women tell fortunes and perform all kinds of tricks, by which they gain more money than their husbands.’ _First Gypsy_.—‘They would not be callees if they did not: I have known a Gitána gain twenty ounces of gold, by means of the hokkano baro, in a few hours, whilst the silly Gypsy, her husband, would be toiling with his shears for a fortnight, trimming the horses of the Busné, and yet not be a dollar richer at the end of the time.’ _Myself_.—‘You seem wretchedly poor. Are you married?’