"Like a right gypsy, hath, at fast and loose,
Beguiled me to the very heart of loss."
Husbands and lovers look on at the dancers' most extreme poses, even caresses, in nonchalant security. While one gitana after another takes the stage, a crescent of men and women, seated behind, cheer her on with cries and clappings, strummings of the guitar, and frenzied beatings of the floor with staff and stool. Yet their excitement, even at its apparent height, never sweeps them out of their crafty selves. Beyond the dancer they see the audience. Disdain and dislike are in the atmosphere, and never more than when the rain of silver is at its richest. Still they follow the gypsy law, "To cheat and rob the stranger always and ever, and be true only to our own blood."
The Passing of the Pageants
XI
THE ROUTE OF THE SILVER FLEETS
"Paul, the Physician, to Cristobal Colombo, greeting. I perceive your magnificent and great desire to find a way to where the spices grow."