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    As Gallardo took his way through the narrow street on his way to San Gil he met the company of "Jews," that is to say, of armed men, fierce soldiers, their faces framed by their helmets' metal chin strap, wearing wine-coloured tunics, flesh-coloured cotton stockings and high sandals, round their waists was fastened the Roman sword, and over their shoulders, like a modern gun strap, was the cord which supported their lances. These soldiers, young and old, marched to the roll of drums and carried a Roman banner with the senatorial inscription.
    Excellent Don José! His enthusiasm was immutable, bomb proof. It never could occur to him that his matador could possibly cease to be as he had always been. He did not offer a single criticism on his fiasco; on the[Pg 276] contrary, he himself endeavoured to find excuses, mingling with them the comfort of his good advice.


    3.She had never been to a bull-fight. A great part of her life had been spent in hearing about corridas, but in the accounts of the fiestas she had never heard or seen anything beyond the outside, just what all the world saw or heard of, the exploits in the arena under the brilliant sun, the flash of silk and gold embroideries, all the sumptuous procession, knowing nothing of the odious preparations taking place in the secrecy of the outbuildings. And they lived from this fiesta, with its repulsive torturing of weak animals! Their fortune had been made from such spectacles!
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