hemingway, ernest - men without women-第4章
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gs with rods and all； in a procession； trying to get him towards the bull； who stood； dropping his head； pawing； unable to make up his mind to charge。
Zurito； sitting his horse； walking him toward the scene； not missing any detail； scowled。
Finally the bull charged； the horse leaders ran for the barrera； the picador hit too far back； and the bull got under the horse； lifted him； threw him onto his back。
Zurito watched。 The monos； in their red shirts； running out to drag the picador clear。 The picador； now on his feet； swearing and flopping his arms。 Manuel and Hernandez standing ready with their capes。 And the bull； the great； black bull； with a horse on his back； hooves dangling； the bridle caught in the horns。 Black bull with a horse on his back； staggering short…legged； then arching his neck and lifting； thrusting； charging to slide the horse off； horse sliding down。 Then the bull into a lunging charge at the cape Manuel spread for him。
The bull was slower now； Manuel felt。 He was bleeding badly。 There was a sheen of blood all down his flank。
Manuel offered him the cape again。 There he came； eyes open； ugly； watching the cape。 Manuel stepped to the side and raised his arms； tightening the cape ahead of the bull for the veronica。
Now he was facing the bull。 Yes； his head was going down a little。 He was carrying it lower。 That was Zurito。
Manuel flopped the cape； there he comes； he side…stepped and swung in another veronica。 Heˇs shooting awfully accurately； he thought。 Heˇs had enough fight； so heˇs watching now。 Heˇs hunting now。 Got his eye on me。 But I always give him the cape。
He shook the cape at the bull； there he comes； he sidestepped。 Awful close that time。 I donˇt want to work that close to him。
The edge of the cape was wet with blood where it had swept along the bullˇs back as he went by。
All right； hereˇs the last one。
Manuel； facing the bull； having turned with him each charge； offered the cape with his two hands。 The bull looked at him。 Eyes watching； horns straight forward； the bull looked at him； watching。
¨Huh！〃 Manuel said； ¨Toro！〃 and leaning back； swung the cape forward。 Here he comes。 He side…stepped； swung the cape in back of him； and pivoted； so the bull followed a swirl of cape and was then left with nothing； fixed by the pass； dominated by the cape。 Manuel swung the cape under his muzzle with one hand； to show the bull was fixed； and walked away。
There was no applause。
Manuel walked across the sand towards the barrera； while Zurito rode out of the ring。 The trumpet had blown to change the act to the planting of the banderillos while Manuel had been working with the bull。 He had not consciously noticed it。 The monos were spreading canvas over the two dead horses and sprinkling sawdust around them。
Manuel came up to the barrera for a drink of water。 Retanaˇs man handed him the heavy porous jug。
Fuentes； the tall gypsy； was standing holding a pair of banderillos； holding them together； slim； red sticks； fishhook points out。 He looked at Manuel。
¨Go on out there；〃 Manuel said。
The gypsy trotted out。 Manuel set down the jug and watched。 He wiped his face with his handkerchief。
The critic of El Heraldo reached for the bottle of warm champagne that stood between his feet； took a drink； and finished his paragraph。
¨the aged Manolo rated no applause for a vulgar series of lances with the cape and we entered the third of the palings。〃
Alone in the centre of the ring the bull stood； still fixed。 Fuentes； tall； flat…backed； walking towards him arrogantly； his arms spread out； the two slim； red sticks； one in each hand； held by the fingers； points straight forward。 Fuentes walked forward。 Back of him and to one side was a peon with a cape。 The bull looked at him and was no longer fixed。
His eyes watched Fuentes； now standing still。 Now he leaned back； calling to him。 Fuentes twitched the two banderillos and the light on the steel points caught the bullˇs eye。
His tail went up and he charged。
He came straight； his eyes on the man。 Fuentes stood still； leaning back； the banderillos pointing forward。 As the bull lowered his head to hook； Fuentes leaned backward； his arms came together and rose； his two hands touching； the banderillos two descending red lines； and leaning forward drove the points into the bullˇs shoulder； leaning far in over the bullˇs horns and pivoting on the two upright sticks； his legs tight together； his body curving to one side to let the bull pass。
¨Ol？！〃 from the crowd。
The bull was hooking wildly； jumping like a trout； all four feet off the ground。 The red shafts of the banderillos tossed as he jumped。
Manuel； standing at the barrera； noticed that he hooked always to the right。
¨Tell him to drop the next pair on the right；〃 he said to the kid who started to run out to Fuentes with the new banderillos。
A heavy hand fell on his shoulder。 it was Zurito。
¨How do you feel； kid？〃 he asked。
Manuel was watching the bull。
Zurito leaned forward on the barrera； leaning the weight of his body on his arms。 Manuel turned to him。
¨Youˇre going good；〃 Zurito said。
Manuel shook his head。 He had nothing to do now until the next third。 The gypsy was very good with the banderillos。 The bull would come to him in the next third in good shape。 He was a good bull。 It had all been easy up to now。 The final stuff with the sword was all he worried over。 He did not really worry。 He did not even think about it。 But standing there he had a heavy sense of apprehension。 He looked out at the bull； planning his faena； his work with the red cloth that was to reduce the bull； to make him manageable。
The gypsy was walking out towards the bull again； walking heel…and…toe； insultingly； like a ballroom dancer； the red shafts of the banderillos twitching with his walk。 The bull watched him； not fixed now； hunting him； but waiting to get close enough so he could be sure of getting him； getting the horns into him。
As Fuentes walked forward the bull charged。 Fuentes ran across the quarter of a circle as the bull charged and； as he passed running backwards； stopped； swung forward； rose on his toes； arms straight out； and sunk the banderillos straight down into the tight of the big shoulder muscles as the bull missed him。
The crowd were wild about it。
¨That kid wonˇt stay in this night stuff long；〃 Retanaˇs man said to Zurito。
¨Heˇs good；〃 Zurito said。
¨Watch him now。〃
They watched。
Fuentes was standing with his back against the barrera。 Two of the cuadrilla were back of him； with their capes ready to flop over the fence to distract the bull。
The bull； with his tongue out； his barrel heaving； was watching the gypsy。 He thought he had him now。 Back against the red planks。 Only a short charge away。 The bull watched him。
The gypsy bent back； drew back his arms； the banderillos pointing at the bull。 He called to the bull； stamped one foot。 The bull was suspicious。 He wanted the man。 No more barbs in the shoulder。
Fuentes walked a little closer to the bull。 Bent back。 Called again。 Somebody in the crowd shouted a warning。
¨Heˇs too damn close；〃 Zurito said。
¨Watch him；〃 Retanaˇs man said。
Leaning back； inciting the bull with the banderillos； Fuentes jumped； both feet off the ground。 As he jumped the bullˇs tail rose and he charged。 Fuentes came down on his toes； arms straight out； whole body arching forward； and drove the shafts straight down as he swung his body clear of the right horn。
The bull crashed into the barrera where the flopping capes had attracted his eye as he lost the man。
The gypsy came running along the barrera towards Manuel； taking the applause of the crowd。 His vest was ripped where he had not quite cleared the point of the horn。 He was happy about it； showing it to the spectators。 He made a tour of the ring。 Zurito saw him go by； smiling； pointing to his vest。 He smiled。
Somebody else was planting the last pair of banderillos。 Nobody was paying any attention。
Retanaˇs man tucked a baton inside the red cloth of a muleta； folded the cloth over it； and handed it over the barrera to Manuel。 He reached in the leather sword…case； took out a sword and； holding it by its leather scabbard； reached it over the fence to Manuel。 Manuel pulled the blade out by the red hilt and the scabbard fell limp。
He looked at Zurito。 The big man saw he was sweating。
¨Now you get him； kid；〃 Zurito said。
Manuel nodded。
¨Heˇs in good shape；〃 Zurito said。
¨Just like you want him；〃 Retanaˇs man assured him。
Manuel nodded。
The trumpeter； up under the roof； blew for the final act； and Manuel walked across the arena towards where； up in the dark boxes； the president must be。
In the front row seats the substitute bullfight critic of El Heraldo took a long drink of warm champagne。 He had decided it was not worthwhile to write a running story and would write up the corrida back in the office。 What the hell was it anyway？ Only a nocturnal。 If he missed anything he would get it out of the morning papers。 He took another drink of the champagne。 He had a date at Maximˇs at twelve。 Who were these bullfighters anyway？ Kids and bums。 A bunch of bums。 He put his pad of paper in his pocket and looked over towards Manuel； standing very much alone in the ring； gesturing with his hat in a salute towards a box he could not see high up in the dark plaza。 Out in the ring the bull stood quiet； looking at nothing。
¨I dedicate this bull to you； Mr。 President； and to the public of Madrid； the most intelligent and generous in the world；〃 was what Manuel was saying。 It was a formula。 He said it all。 It was a little too long for nocturnal use。
He bowed at the dark； straightened； tossed his hat over his shoulder； and； carrying the muleta in his left hand and the sword in his right； walked out towards the bull。
Manuel walked toward the bull。 The bull looked at him； his eyes were quick。 Manuel noticed the way the banderillos hung down on his left shoulder and the steady sheen of blood from Zuritoˇs pic…ing。 He noticed the way the bullˇs feet were。 As he walked forward； holding the muleta in his left hand and the sword in his right； he watched the bullˇs feet。 The bull could not charge without gathering his feet together。 Now he stood square on them； dully。
Manuel walked towards him； watching his feet。 This was all right。 He could do this。 He must work to get the bullˇs head down； so he could go in past the horns and kill him。 He did not think about the sword； not about killing the bull。 He thought about one thing at a time。 The coming things oppressed him； though。 Walking forward； watching the bullˇs feet； he saw successively his eyes； his wet muzzle； and the wide； forward…pointing spread of his horns。 The bull had light circles about his eyes。 His eyes watched Manuel。 He felt he was going to get this little one with the white face。
Standing still now and spreading the red cloth of the muleta with the sword； pricking the point into the cloth so that the sword； now held in his left hand； spread the red flannel like the jib of a boat； Manuel noticed the points of the bullˇs horns。 One of
