‘Well, if the thing ever was,’ said Ursula, ‘it was a long time ago, and perhaps after all not true.’
‘Then why do you sing the song?’
‘I’ll tell you, brother; we sings the song now and then to be a warning to ourselves to have as little to do as possible in the way of acquaintance with the gorgios; and a warning it is; you see how the young woman in the song was driven out of her tent by her mother, with all kind of disgrace and bad language; but you don’t know that she was afterwards buried alive by her cokos and pals [71b] in an uninhabited place; the song doesn’t say it, but the story says it, for there is a story about it, though, as I said before, it was a long time ago, and perhaps, after all, wasn’t true.’
‘But if such a thing were to happen at present, would the cokos and pals bury the girl alive?’
‘I can’t say what they would do,’ said Ursula; ‘I suppose they are not so strict as they were long ago; at any rate she would be driven from the tan, [71c] and avoided by all her family and relations as a gorgio’s acquaintance, so that, perhaps, at last, she would be glad if they would bury her alive.’
‘Well, I can conceive that there would be an objection on the part of the cokos and batus that a Romany chi should form an improper acquaintance with a gorgio, but I should think that the batus and cokos could hardly object to the chi’s entering into the honourable estate of wedlock with a gorgio.’
Ursula was silent.
‘Marriage is an honourable estate, Ursula.’
‘Well, brother, suppose it be?’
‘I don’t see why a Romany chi should object to enter into the honourable estate of wedlock with a gorgio.’