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WEDDING CHORUS OF GIPSIES

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Scrape the catgut! pass the liquor!

Let your quick feet move the quicker.

Ta-ra-la!

Dance and sing in jolly chorus,

Bride and bridegroom are before us,

And the patrico stands o’er us.

Ta-ra-la!

To unite their hands he’s ready;

For a moment, pals, be steady;

Cease your quaffing,

Dancing, laughing;

Leave off riot,

And be quiet,

While ’tis doing.

’Tis begun,

All is over!

Two are ONE!

The patrico has link’d ’em;

Daddy Hymen’s torch has blink’d ’em.

Amen!

To ’t again!

Now for quaffing,

Now for laughing,

Stocking-throwing,

Liquor flowing;

For our bridals are no bridles, and our altars never alter;

From the flagon never flinch we, in the jig we never falter.

No! that’s not our way, for we Are staunch lads of Romany. For our wedding, then, hurrah! Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

This uncouth chorus ended, the marriage proceeded. Sybil had disappeared. Had she fled? No! she was by the bride. Eleanor mechanically took her place. A faint voice syllabled the responses. You could scarcely have seen Miss Mowbray’s lips move. But the answers were given, and the priest was satisfied.

He took the ring, and sprinkled it once again with the holy water, in the form of the cross. He pronounced the prayer: “Benedic, Domine, annulum hunc, quem nos in tuo nomine benedicimus, ut quæ eum gestaverit, fidelitatem integram suo sponso tenens, in pace et voluntate tua permaneat atque in mutua charitate semper vivat.

He was about to return the ring to Luke, when the torch, held by the knight of Malta, was dashed to the ground by some unseen hand, and instantly extinguished. The wild pageant vanished as suddenly as the figures cast by a magic-lantern upon a wall disappear when the glass is removed. A wild hubbub succeeded. Hoarsely above the clamor arose the voice of Barbara.

“To the door, quickly! — to the door! Let no one pass, I will find out the author of this mishap anon. Away!”

She was obeyed. Several of the crew stationed themselves at the door.

“Proceed now with the ceremony,” continued Barbara. “By darkness, or by light, the match shall be completed.”

The ring was then placed upon the finger of the bride; and as Luke touched it, he shuddered. It was cold as that of the corpse which he had clasped but now. The prayer was said, the blessing given, the marriage was complete.

Suddenly there issued from the darkness deep dirge-like tones, and a voice solemnly chanted a strain, which all knew to be the death-song of their race, hymned by wailing women over an expiring sister. The music seemed to float in the air.

The Essential Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

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