穿越火线自动准备器
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"Put it down, man," said the picador. "Do you stick to your weapon when you are paying a visit?"
"And your sister and the little nephews?"
His cruel "cogida" in the Plaza of Seville had cut short his amorous pique. Afterwards his illness, and his tender approximation to Carmen during his convalescence, had resigned him to his misfortune; but to forget her ... thatnever. He had done his best to forget the past, but any slight circumstance, a lady on horseback galloping pasta fair-haired Englishwoman in the street, the constant intercourse with all those young men who were her relations, everything recalled the image of Do?a Sol! Ay! that woman!... Never should he meet her like again. Losing her, Gallardo seemed to have gone back in his life, he was no longer the same. He even attributed to her desertion his fiascos in his art. When he had her he was braver, but when the fair-haired gachi left him his ill luck began. He firmly believed that if she returned his glorious days would also come back. His superstitious heart believed this most firmly.
But the torero did not acknowledge these outbursts of enthusiasm. He raised his hand to his stomach, crouching in a painful curve, and with his head bent began to walk forward with uncertain step. Twice he raised his head as if he were looking for the door of exit and fearing not to be able to find it, finally staggering like a drunken man, and falling flat on the sand.
At last!... The public quieted down a little, ceasing to thump, but still continuing shouting and whistling. The animal was finished by the puntilero, he was fastened by his poll to the team of mules, and dragged out of the arena, leaving behind him a broad belt of smoothed sand covered with blood-stains, which the servants obliterated with rakes and baskets of sand.
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In order to get rid of the good ladies he advised them to go and talk it over with his mother, "hear what she had to say about it"; and he walked on, never stopping till he got to the Calle de las Sierpes, saluting some, and allowing others to enjoy the honour of walking by his side, in proud friendship, under the eyes of the passers-by.
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And freeing himself from the enthusiast who came towards him glass in hand, he walked on, being stopped in the next street by two old women, friends of his mother's. They begged him to stand godfather to the grandchild of one of them; her poor daughter might be confined at any moment; but her son-in-law, a furious Gallardist, who had often come to blows to defend his idol as he came out of the Plaza, had not dared to ask him.
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[96] Large platforms with life-size figures carved in wood and magnificently dressed, representing scenes from the life of Jesusor the Virgin Mary, or the Apostles. Each parish sends two. The figures are ancient and often by eminent artists.
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He thought with pride as he travelled from Paris to Seville of his father and grandfather, who had been captains of the Jews of la Macarena, and that to himself fresh glory accrued through this inheritance from his forefathers.
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In spite of Gallardo's wish to accompany Do?a Sol[Pg 170] he was unable to do so; his manager opposed it, alleging the necessity of his keeping himself fresh and vigorous for the following afternoon. At midnight the road leading from the pastures to the Plaza was as lively as a fair. In the country villas the windows were lighted up, and shadows passed before them, dancing to the sound of pianos. In the little inns, whose open doors threw broad streaks of light across the road, the tinkling of guitars, the clinking of glasses, and shouts and laughter let it be known that wine was circulating freely.
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Besides, now he was away from Seville, he felt a greater affection for the banderillero, a kind of reflected tenderness. Sebastian knew of his loves with Do?a Sol; he had seen her, though from afar, and she had often laughed when Gallardo told her of the picador's originalities.
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When the supreme moment arrived for the death of the bull, all present seemed to guess the confusion of his mind. His play was disordered, it was sufficient for the bull to shake his head for him to take it as a sign of charging, throwing his feet backwards, and receding by long bounds, while the public greeted those attempts at flight with a chorus of mockery.
If ever he found himself in a like situation he would do exactly the same!
"Poor fellow! I have hurt you. And it was I!... I who am sometimes mad! Let me kiss the bite to cure it. Let me kiss all your glorious scars. My poor little brute, it made you cry out!"
"The lad is worth something," he said. "You know, Se?or Juan, that I understand something about these matters, and I am quite willing to spend a bit of money to give him a profession ... but he wants a 'padrino'[103] if he is to be pushed, and there could be no one better than yourself. If you would only arrange a novillada in which the youngster could kill! Crowds of people would go, and I would bear all the expenses."
Gallardo was astounded at his temerity. To come down into Seville, to enter the Plaza, far away from the mountains, where defence was so easy, without the help of his two companions, the mare and the rifle, and all to see him kill bulls! Truly, of the two, which was the braver man?
"But all the same you must have no delusions, Juanillo," continued Don Jos. "Do?a Sol wants to see a torero close, just as she takes lessons from old Lechuzo.... Local colour, and nothing more."