hemingway, ernest - men without women-第6章
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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 them was splintered from banging against the barrera。 The other was sharp as a porcupine quill。 Manuel noticed while spreading the muleta that the white base of the horn was stained red。 While he noticed these things he did not lose sight of the bullˇs feet。 The bull watched Manuel steadily。
Heˇs on the defensive now； Manuel thought。 Heˇs reserving himself。 Iˇve got to bring him out of that and get his head down。 Always get his head down。 Zurito had his head down once； but heˇs come back。 Heˇll bleed when I〃 start him going and that will bring it down。
Holding the muleta； with the sword in his left hand widening it in front of him； he called to the bull。
The bull looked at him。
He leaned back insultingly and shook the widespread flannel。
The bull saw the muleta。 It was a bright scarlet under the arc…light。 The bullˇs legs tightened。
Here he comes。 Whoosh！ Manuel turned as the bull came and raised the muleta so that it passed over the bullˇs horns and swept down his broad back from head to tail。 The bull had gone clean up in the air with the charge。 Manuel had not moved。
At the end of the pass the bull turned like a cat coming around a corner and faced Manuel。
He was on the offensive again。 His heaviness was gone。 Manuel noted the fresh blood shining down the black shoulder and dripping down the bullˇs leg。 He drew the sword out of the muleta and held it in his right hand。 The muleta held low down in his left hand； leaning toward the left； he called to the bull。 The bullˇs legs tightened； his eyes on the muleta。 Here he comes； Manuel thought。 Yuh！
He swung with the charge； sweeping the muleta ahead of the bull； his feet firm； the sword following the curve； a point of light under the arcs。
The bull recharged as the pase natural finished and Manuel raised the muleta for a pase de pecho。 Firmly planted； the bull came by his chest under the raised muleta。 Manuel leaned his head back to avoid the clattering banderillo shafts。 The hot black bull body touched his chest as it passed。
Too damn close； Manuel thought。 Zurito； leaning on the barrera； spoke rapidly to the gypsy who trotted out towards Manuel with a cape； Zurito pulled his hat down low and looked out across the arena at Manuel。
Manuel was facing the bull again； the muleta held low and to the left。 The bullˇs head was down as he watched the muleta。
¨If it was Belmonte doing that stuff； theyˇd go crazy；〃 Retanaˇs man said。
Zurito said nothing。 He was watching Manuel out in the centre of the arena。
¨Where did the boss dig this fellow up？〃 Retanaˇs man asked。
¨Out of the hospital；〃 Zurito said。
¨Thatˇs where heˇs going damn quick；〃 Retanaˇs man said。
Zurito turned on him。
¨Knock on that；〃 he said； pointing to the barrera。
¨I was just kidding； man；〃 Retanaˇs man said。
¨Knock on that wood。〃
Retanaˇs man leaned forward and knocked three times on the barrera。
¨Watch the faena；〃 Zurito said。
Out in the centre of the ring； under the lights； Manuel was kneeling； facing the bull； and as he raised the muleta in both hands the bull charged； tail up。
Manuel swung his body clear and； as the bull recharged； brought around the muleta in a half…circle that pulled the bull to his knees。
¨Why； that oneˇs a great bullfighter；〃 Retanaˇs man said。
¨No； heˇs not；〃 said Zurito。
Manuel stood up and； the muleta in his left hand； the sword in his right； acknowledged the applause from the dark plaza。
The bull had humped himself up from his knees and stood waiting； his head hung low。
Zurito spoke to two of the other lads of the cuadrilla and they ran out to stand back of Manuel with their capes。 There were four men back of him now。 Hernandez had followed him since he first came out with the muleta。 Fuentes stood watching； his cape held against his body； tall in repose； watching lazy…eyed。 Now the two came up。 Hernandez motioned them to stand one at each side。 Manuel stood alone； facing the bull。
Manuel waved back
