Of the Gitánas and their practices I shall have much to say on a future occasion, when speaking of those of the present time, with many of whom I have had no little intercourse. All the ancient Spanish authors who mention these women speak of them in unmeasured terms of abhorrence, employing against them every abusive word contained in the language in which they wrote. Amongst other vile names, they have been called harlots, though perhaps no females on earth are, and have ever been, more chaste in their own persons, though at all times willing to encourage licentiousness in others, from a hope of gain. It is one thing to be a procuress, and another to be a harlot, though the former has assuredly no reason to complain if she be confounded with the latter. ‘The Gitánas,’ says Doctor Sancho de Moncada, in his discourse concerning the Gypsies, which I shall presently lay before the reader, ‘are public harlots, common, as it is said, to all the Gitános, and with dances, demeanour, and filthy songs, are the cause of infinite harm to the souls of the vassals of your Majesty (Philip III.), as it is notorious what infinite harm they have caused in many honourable houses. The married women whom they have separated from their husbands, and the maidens whom they have perverted; and finally, in the best of these Gitánas, any one may recognise all the signs of a harlot given by the wise king: “they are gadders about, whisperers, always unquiet in the places and corners.”’ {109a} The author of Alonso, {109b} he who of all the old Spanish writers has written most graphically concerning the Gitános, and I believe with most correctness, puts the following account of the Gitánas, and their fortune-telling practices, into the entertaining mouth of his hero:— ‘O how many times did these Gitánas carry me along with them, for being, after all, women, even they have their fears, and were glad of me as a protector: and so they went through the neighbouring villages, and entered the houses a-begging, giving to understand thereby their poverty and necessity, and then they would call aside the girls, in order to tell them the buena ventura, and the young fellows the good luck which they were to enjoy, never failing in the first place to ask for a cuarto or real, in order to make the sign of the cross; and with these flattering words, they got as much as they could, although, it is true, not much in money, as their harvest in that article was generally slight; but enough in bacon to afford subsistence to their husbands and bantlings. I looked on and laughed at the simplicity of those foolish people, who, especially such as wished to be married, were as satisfied and content with what the Gitána told them, as if an apostle had spoken it.’