Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XII. The Bullfight
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278 DAYS IN THE SUN
These men are dead and gone, the famous men
of the past, and all the greater is the attention and
hope with which the nation follows the steps of this
promising youth. Only Madrid has as yet failed to
approve him. He has come to conquer the capital;
and to-day for the first time the Tiny Little Lizard
appears in order to win a decisive applause. If the
approval is given, if he really is a person of as much
promise as rumor would have him, the world is a
splendid oyster which his sword may open; his name
will be a glory to his own generation and to those that
come after. But if he fails—!
The popular mood has already cooled a little; the
eulogies of the province have made the capital re-
served; furthermore, his first appearance has been a
little awkward. If he ever weeps again, his tears will
not save him from shame.
But there he stands! His childlike face is radiant
with confidence as he salutes the Prefect and the
people, dedicating the bull to them. Like a reckless
page he glides over the arena, his shining blade con-
cealed coquettishly under his little red scarf, which is
held in his left hand. And again he stands opposed to
the bull’s lowered horns, his own sword lowered and
his little tuft of hair rebelliously standing out from his
neck. He toys with the monster, obliges the monster
to lunge for him; pretends to make a thrust of his
own, and leads the bull all around the arena to do his
will. The whole scene is like child’s play, it seems to
move so neatly; only the trembling calves of the page’s
legs show you what is at stake—and the dead horses
lying on the sand.
The Tiny Little Lizard plays in the sun, golden
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