lavengro-第92章

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'But　we　have　no　gloves！'



'Gloves！'　said　Mr。　Petulengro；　contemptuously；　'gloves！　　I　tell　you　

what；　brother；　I　always　thought　you　were　a　better　hand　at　the　

gloves　than　the　naked　fist；　and；　to　tell　you　the　truth；　besides　

taking　satisfaction　for　Mrs。　Herne's　death；　I　wish　to　see　what　you　

can　do　with　your　mawleys；　so　now　is　your　time；　brother；　and　this　is　

your　place；　grass　and　shade；　no　ruts　or　holes；　come　on；　brother；　or　

I　shall　think　you　what　I　should　not　like　to　call　you。'







CHAPTER　LXXXII







Offence　and　defence　…　I'm　satisfied　…　Fond　of　solitude　…　Possession　

of　property　…　Chal　Devlehi　…　Winding　path。



AND　when　I　heard　Mr。　Petulengro　talk　in　this　manner；　which　I　had　

never　heard　him　do　before；　and　which　I　can　only　account　for　by　his　

being　fasting　and　ill…tempered；　I　had　of　course　no　other　

alternative　than　to　accept　his　challenge；　so　I　put　myself　into　a　

posture　which　I　deemed　the　best　both　for　offence　and　defence；　and　

the　tussle　commenced；　and　when　it　had　endured　for　about　half　an　

hour；　Mr。　Petulengro　said；　'Brother；　there　is　much　blood　on　your　

face；　you　had　better　wipe　it　off'；　and　when　I　had　wiped　it　off；　and　

again　resumed　my　former　attitude；　Mr。　Petulengro　said；　'I　think　

enough　has　been　done；　brother；　in　the　affair　of　the　old　woman；　I　

have；　moreover；　tried　what　you　are　able　to　do；　and　find　you；　as　I　

thought；　less　apt　with　the　naked　mawleys　than　the　stuffed　gloves；　

nay；　brother；　put　your　hands　down；　I'm　satisfied；　blood　has　been　

shed；　which　is　all　that　can　be　reasonably　expected　for　an　old　woman　

who　carried　so　much　brimstone　about　her　as　Mrs。　Herne。'



So　the　struggle　ended；　and　we　resumed　our　route；　Mr。　Petulengro　

sitting　sideways　upon　his　horse　as　before；　and　I　driving　my　little　

pony…cart；　and　when　we　had　proceeded　about　three　miles；　we　came　to　

a　small　public…house；　which　bore　the　sign　of　the　Silent　Woman；　

where　we　stopped　to　refresh　our　cattle　and　ourselves；　and　as　we　sat　

over　our　bread　and　ale；　it　came　to　pass　that　Mr。　Petulengro　asked　

me　various　questions；　and　amongst　others；　how　I　intended　to　dispose　

of　myself；　I　told　him　that　I　did　not　know；　whereupon；　with　

considerable　frankness；　he　invited　me　to　his　camp；　and　told　me　that　

if　I　chose　to　settle　down　amongst　them；　and　become　a　Rommany　chal；　

I　should　have　his　wife's　sister　Ursula；　who　was　still　unmarried；　

and　occasionally　talked　of　me。



I　declined　his　offer；　assigning　as　a　reason　the　recent　death　of　

Mrs。　Herne；　of　which　I　was　the　cause；　although　innocent。　　'A　pretty　

life　I　should　lead　with　those　two；'　said　I；　'when　they　came　to　know　

it。'　　'Pooh；'　said　Mr。　Petulengro；　'they　will　never　know　it。　　I　

shan't　blab；　and　as　for　Leonora；　that　girl　has　a　head　on　her　

shoulders。'　　'Unlike　the　woman　in　the　sign；'　said　I；　'whose　head　is　

cut　off。　　You　speak　nonsense；　Mr。　Petulengro；　as　long　as　a　woman　

has　a　head　on　her　shoulders　she'll　talk；　…　but；　leaving　women　out　

of　the　case；　it　is　impossible　to　keep　anything　a　secret；　an　old　

master　of　mine　told　me　so　long　ago。　　I　have　moreover　another　reason　

for　declining　your　offer。　　I　am　at　present　not　disposed　for　

society。　　I　am　become　fond　of　solitude。　　I　wish　I　could　find　some　

quiet　place　to　which　I　could　retire　to　hold　communion　with　my　own　

thoughts；　and　practise；　if　I　thought　fit；　either　of　my　trades。'　　

'What　trades？'　said　Mr。　Petulengro。　　'Why；　the　one　which　I　have　

lately　been　engaged　in；　or　my　original　one；　which　I　confess　I　

should　like　better；　that　of　a　kaulo…mescro。'　　'Ah；　I　have　

frequently　heard　you　talk　of　making　horse…shoes；'　said　Mr。　

Petulengro；　'I；　however；　never　saw　you　make　one；　and　no　one　else　

that　I　am　aware；　I　don't　believe　…　come；　brother；　don't　be　angry；　

it's　quite　possible　that　you　may　have　done　things　which　neither　I　

nor　any　one　else　has　seen　you　do；　and　that　such　things　may　some　day　

or　other　come　to　light；　as　you　say　nothing　can　be　kept　secret。　　Be　

that；　however；　as　it　may；　pay　the　reckoning　and　let　us　be　going；　I　

think　I　can　advise　you　to　just　such　a　kind　of　place　as　you　seem　to　

want。'



'And　how　do　you　know　that　I　have　got　wherewithal　to　pay　the　

reckoning？'　I　demanded。　　'Brother；'　said　Mr。　Petulengro；　'I　was　

just　now　looking　in　your　face；　which　exhibited　the　very　look　of　a　

person　conscious　of　the　possession　of　property；　there　was　nothing　

hungry　or　sneaking　in　it。　　Pay　the　reckoning；　brother。'



And　when　we　were　once　more　upon　the　road；　Mr。　Petulengro　began　to　

talk　of　the　place　which　he　conceived　would　serve　me　as　a　retreat　

under　present　circumstances。　　'I　tell　you　frankly；　brother；　that　it　

is　a　queer　kind　of　place；　and　I　am　not　very　fond　of　pitching　my　

tent　in　it；　it　is　so　surprisingly　dreary。　　It　is　a　deep　dingle　in　

the　midst　of　a　large　field；　on　an　estate　about　which　there　has　been　

a　lawsuit　for　some　years　past。　　I　daresay　you　will　be　quiet　enough；　

for　the　nearest　town　is　five　miles　distant；　and　there　are　only　a　

few　huts　and　hedge　public…houses　in　the　neighbourhood。　　Brother；　I　

am　fond　of　solitude　myself；　but　not　that　kind　of　solitude；　I　like　a　

quiet　heath；　where　I　can　pitch　my　house；　but　I　always　like　to　have　

a　gay　stirring　place　not　far　off；　where　the　women　can　pen　dukkerin；　

and　I　myself　can　sell　or　buy　a　horse；　if　needful　…　such　a　place　as　

the　Chong　Gav。　　I　never　feel　so　merry　as　when　there；　brother；　or　on　

the　heath　above　it；　where　I　taught　you　Rommany。'



Shortly　after　this　discourse　we　reached　a　milestone；　and　a　few　

yards　from　the　milestone；　on　the　left　hand；　was　a　crossroad。　　

Thereupon　Mr。　Petulengro　said；　'Brother；　my　path　lies　to　the　left　

if　you　choose　to　go　with　me　to　my　camp；　good；　if　not；　Chal　

Devlehi。'　　But　I　again　refused　Mr。　Petulengro's　invitation；　and；　

shaking　him　by　the　hand；　proceeded　forward　alone；　and　about　ten　

miles　farther　on　I　reached　the　town　of　which　he　had　spoken；　and；　

following　certain　directions　which　he　had　given；　discovered；　though　

not　without　some　difficulty；　the　dingle　which　he　had　mentioned。　　It　

was　a　deep　hollow　in　the　midst　of　a　wide　field；　the　shelving　sides　

were　overgrown　with　trees　and　bushes；　a　belt　of　sallows　surrounded　

it　on　the　top；　a　steep　winding　path　led　down　into　the　depths；　

practicable；　however；　for　a　light　cart；　like　mine；　at　the　bottom　

was　an　open　space；　and　there　I　pitched　my　tent；　and　there　I　

contrived　to　put　up　my　forge。　　'I　will　here　ply　the　trade　of　

kaulomescro；'　said　I。







CHAPTER　LXXXIII







Highly　poetical　…　Volundr　…　Grecian　mythology　…　Making　a　petul　…　

Tongues　of　flame　…　Hammering　…　Spite　of　dukkerin　…　Heaviness。



IT　has　always　struck　me　that　there　is　something　highly　poetical　

about　a　forge。　　I　am　not　singular　in　this　opinion：　　various　

individuals　have　assured　me　that　they　can　never　pass　by　one；　even　

in　the　midst　of　a　crowded　town；　without　experiencing　sensations　

which　they　can　scarcely　define；　but　which　are　highly　pleasurable。　　

I　have　a　decided　penchant　for　forges；　especially　rural　ones；　placed　

in　some　quaint　quiet　spot　…　a　dingle；　for　example；　which　is　a　

poetical　place；　or　at　a　meeting　of　four　roads；　which　is　still　more　

so；　for　how　many　a　superstition　…　and　superstition　is　the　soul　of　

poetry　…　is　connected　with　these　cross　roads！　　I　love　to　light　upon　

such　a　one；　especially　after　nightfall；　as　everything　about　a　forge　

tells　to　most　advantage　at　night；　the　hammer　sounds　more　solemnly　

in　the　stillness；　the　glowing　particles　scattered　by　the　strokes　

sparkle　with　more　effect　in　the　darkness；　whilst　the　sooty　visage　

of　the　sastramescro；　half　in　shadow　and　half　illumed　by　the　red　and　

partial　blaze　of　the　forge；　looks　more　mysterious　and　strange。　　On　

such　occasions　I　draw　in　my　horse's　rein；　and；　seated　in　the　

saddle；　endeavour　to　associate　with　the　picture　before　me　…　in　

itself　a　picture　of　romance　…　whatever　of　the　wild　and　wonderful　I　

have　read　of　in　books；　or　have　seen　with　my　own　eyes　in　connection　

with　forges。



I　believe　the　life　of　any　blacksmith；　especially　a　rural　one；　would　

afford　materials　for　a　highly　poetical　history。　　I　do　not　speak　

unadvisedly；　having　the　honour　to　be　free　of　the　forge；　and　

therefore　fully　competent　to　give　an　opinion　as　to　what　might　be　

made　out　of　the　forge　by　some　dexterous　hand。　　Certainly；　the　

strangest　and　most　entertaining　life　ever　written　is　that　of　a　

blacksmith　of　the　olden　north；　a　certain　Volundr；　or　Velint；　who　

lived　in　woods　and　thickets；　made　keen　swords　…　so　keen；　indeed；　

that　if　placed　in　a　running　stream　they　would　fairly　divide　an　

object；　however　slight；　which　was　borne　against　them　by　the　water；　

and　who　eventually　married　a　king's　daughter；　by　whom　he　had　a　son；　

who　was　as　bold　a　knight　as　his　father　was　a　cunning　blacksmith。　　I　

never　see　a　forge　at　night；　when　seated　on　the　back　of　my　horse；　at　

the　bottom　of　a　dark　lane；　but　I　somehow　or　other　associate　it　with　

the　exploits　of　this　extraordinary　fellow；　with　many　other　

extraordinary　things；　amongst　which；　as　I　have　hinted　before；　are　

particular　passages　of　my　own　life；　one　or　two　of　which　I　shall　

perhaps　relate　to　the　reader。



I　never　associate　Vulcan　and　his　Cyclops　with　the　idea　of　a　forge。　　

These　gentry　would　be　the　very　last　people　in　the　world　to　flit　

across　my　mind　whilst　gazing　at　the　forge　from　the　bottom　of　the　

dark　lane。　　The　truth　is；　they　are　highly　unpoetical　fellows；　as　

well　they　may　be；　connected　as　they　are　with　the　Grecian　mythology。　　

At　the　very　mention　of　their　names　the　forge　burns　dull　and　dim；　as　

if　snowballs　had　been　suddenly　flung　into　it；　the　only　remedy　is　to　

ply　the　bellows；　an　operation　which　I　now　hasten　to　perform。



I　am　in　the　dingle　making　a　horse…shoe。　　Having　no　other　horses　on　

whose　hoofs　I　could　exercise　my　art；　I　made　my　first　essay　on　those　

of　my　own　horse；　if　that　could　be　called　horse　which　horse　was　

none；　being　only　a　pony。　　Perhaps；　if　I　had　sought　all　England；　I　

should　scarcely　have　found　an　animal　more　in　need　of　the　kind　

offices　of　the　smith。　　On　three　of　his　feet　there　were　no　shoes　at　

all；　and　on　the　fourth　only　a　remnant　of　one；　on　which　account　his　

hoofs　were　sadly　broken　and　lacerated　by　his　late　journeys　over　the　

hard　and　flinty　roads。　　'You　belonged　to　a　tinker　before；'　said　I；　

addressing　the　animal；　'but　now　you　belong　to　a　smith。　　It　is　said　

that　the　household　of　the　shoemaker　invariably　go　worse　shod　than　

that　of　any　other　craft。　　That　may　be　the　case　of　those　who　make　

shoes　of　leather；　but　it　shan't　be　said　of　the　household　of　him　who　

makes　shoes　of　iron；　at　any　rate　it　shan't　be　said　of　mine。　　I　tell　

you　what；　my　gry；　whilst　you　continue　with　me；　you　shall　both　be　

better　shod　and　better　fed　than　you　were　with　your　last　master。'



I　am　in　the　dingle　making　a　petul；　and　I　must　here　observe　that　

whilst　I　am　making　a　horse…shoe　the　reader　need　not　be　surprised　if　

I　speak　occasionally　in　the　language　of　the　lord　of　the