DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.48088#0217
188 ST. ANTHONY.
Jose Carreguy, quick as an arrow, was in the centre of the arena. The bull, which had hitherto
shown great skill, in preventing the exit of its successive antagonists from the arena, now turned
in full fury upon the Matador, who raised his left arm, with the fluttering red scarf. Immediately
the animal was beside him—the Matador’s weapon glared, and the assailant sank heavily upon
its knees, then turned round a few times from the force of the fall, before its limbs stiffened.
The applause was indescribable. From every side blue and white ribbands were held out
to the victor, and were then attached to his breast, not to his shoulder. The Governor and Donna
Mencia stood up, as they offered this homage to Carreguy.
The boards were washed, and sand was sprinkled over the marks of blood, before the second
bull was led in—a vicious, short-headed, black animal, energetic in its attacks, and, in spite of
all the Bandilleros at its side, and the numerous lance-thrusts which it received, uttered not a
sound of anger. Its horns, however, were too short, to be dangerous; but by the strength of
its broad forehead, it threw the Picadores and the arrow-bearers over the barriers. When the
scene ceased to afford any novelty, Montez himself came forward, with slow and stately steps
scarcely making any response to the shout of welcome which greeted him.
The animal approached him, and he allowed it to pass his arm twice, without attacking it
The bull meanwhile raised one of its short horns, and laid its head on its shoulder blade, on the
side turned towards the Matador, thus presenting a very difficult point of attack. For a third
time the animal turned round—Montez made his thrust under the mantle, which the bull carried
away on its horns,—the Matador quickly retreated five or six steps, and crouched on the ground,
while the bull the dagger still buried in its shoulder to the depth of the hilt, led a wild chase
around the arena. The knife-bearer then appeared, ran for a few moments by the side of the
bull, then made a deep gash through the veins of its neck, and gave the last thrust to the
expiring animal, as it fell to the ground. Montez had disappeared.
After a long pause, a bull dashed into the arena, bellowing frightfully, and tossing its
head. It rushed on so wildly, that the spectators held their breath in dismay, while in savage
fury, it threw down one Picadore after another, and then raged on in its wild course, without
stopping to trample on its prey. It foamed at the mouth, and made a desperate attempt to over-
leap the barriers.
“Montez!” exclaimed the crowd, “Montez!”
Jose Carreguy appeared in the arena.
“Montez,” they exclaimed again, “that is a good sheath for his dagger. Montez owes us the
last trust. Montez! ”
Sancho ran forward into the middle of the arena. His eyes rolled, he held his dagger lifted,
as if he -were uttering a savage threat to the community. After a few moments the raging beast
perceived him. It approached him in mad fury, and overthrew the Matador, who first vainly
attempted to rise, but lay extended on the ground. At some distance from him was his glittering
dagger.
The animal had received two arrows, and two lance thrusts in his back. Sancho had not
touched it with his dagger. Thus it was in full force. As the bellowing of the collossal animal
continued to increase, Don Guzman again dropped his staff.
Jose Carreguy entered.
At this moment the bull dashed against the barriers, just at the point where the carpets of
the king’s box hung almost to the ground. The projecting box rested upon a row of slender
Jose Carreguy, quick as an arrow, was in the centre of the arena. The bull, which had hitherto
shown great skill, in preventing the exit of its successive antagonists from the arena, now turned
in full fury upon the Matador, who raised his left arm, with the fluttering red scarf. Immediately
the animal was beside him—the Matador’s weapon glared, and the assailant sank heavily upon
its knees, then turned round a few times from the force of the fall, before its limbs stiffened.
The applause was indescribable. From every side blue and white ribbands were held out
to the victor, and were then attached to his breast, not to his shoulder. The Governor and Donna
Mencia stood up, as they offered this homage to Carreguy.
The boards were washed, and sand was sprinkled over the marks of blood, before the second
bull was led in—a vicious, short-headed, black animal, energetic in its attacks, and, in spite of
all the Bandilleros at its side, and the numerous lance-thrusts which it received, uttered not a
sound of anger. Its horns, however, were too short, to be dangerous; but by the strength of
its broad forehead, it threw the Picadores and the arrow-bearers over the barriers. When the
scene ceased to afford any novelty, Montez himself came forward, with slow and stately steps
scarcely making any response to the shout of welcome which greeted him.
The animal approached him, and he allowed it to pass his arm twice, without attacking it
The bull meanwhile raised one of its short horns, and laid its head on its shoulder blade, on the
side turned towards the Matador, thus presenting a very difficult point of attack. For a third
time the animal turned round—Montez made his thrust under the mantle, which the bull carried
away on its horns,—the Matador quickly retreated five or six steps, and crouched on the ground,
while the bull the dagger still buried in its shoulder to the depth of the hilt, led a wild chase
around the arena. The knife-bearer then appeared, ran for a few moments by the side of the
bull, then made a deep gash through the veins of its neck, and gave the last thrust to the
expiring animal, as it fell to the ground. Montez had disappeared.
After a long pause, a bull dashed into the arena, bellowing frightfully, and tossing its
head. It rushed on so wildly, that the spectators held their breath in dismay, while in savage
fury, it threw down one Picadore after another, and then raged on in its wild course, without
stopping to trample on its prey. It foamed at the mouth, and made a desperate attempt to over-
leap the barriers.
“Montez!” exclaimed the crowd, “Montez!”
Jose Carreguy appeared in the arena.
“Montez,” they exclaimed again, “that is a good sheath for his dagger. Montez owes us the
last trust. Montez! ”
Sancho ran forward into the middle of the arena. His eyes rolled, he held his dagger lifted,
as if he -were uttering a savage threat to the community. After a few moments the raging beast
perceived him. It approached him in mad fury, and overthrew the Matador, who first vainly
attempted to rise, but lay extended on the ground. At some distance from him was his glittering
dagger.
The animal had received two arrows, and two lance thrusts in his back. Sancho had not
touched it with his dagger. Thus it was in full force. As the bellowing of the collossal animal
continued to increase, Don Guzman again dropped his staff.
Jose Carreguy entered.
At this moment the bull dashed against the barriers, just at the point where the carpets of
the king’s box hung almost to the ground. The projecting box rested upon a row of slender