The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway [70]
The bull who killed Vicente Girones was named Bocanegra, was Number 118 of the bull-breeding establishment of Sanchez Taberno, and was killed by Pedro Romero as the third bull of that same afternoon. His ear was cut by popular acclamation and given to Pedro Romero, who, in turn, gave it to Brett, who wrapped it in a handkerchief belonging to myself, and left both ear and handkerchief, along with a number of Muratti cigarette-stubs, shoved far back in the drawer of the bed-table that stood beside her bed in the Hotel Montoya, in Pamplona.
Back in the hotel, the night watchman was sitting on a bench inside the door. He had been there all night and was very sleepy. He stood up as I came in. Three of the waitresses came in at the same time. They had been to the morning show at the bull-ring. They went upstairs laughing. I followed them up-stairs and went into my room. I took off my shoes and lay down on the bed. The window was open onto the balcony and the sunlight was bright in the room. I did not feel sleepy. It must have been half past three o'clock when I had gone to bed and the bands had waked me at six. My jaw was sore on both sides. I felt it with my thumb and fingers. That damn Cohn. He should have hit somebody the first time he was insulted, and then gone away. He was so sure that Brett loved him. He was going to stay, and true love would conquer all. Some one knocked on the door.
"Come in."
It was Bill and Mike. They sat down on the bed.
"Some encierro," Bill said. "Some encierro."
"I say, weren't you there?" Mike asked. "Ring for some beer, Bill."
"What a morning!" Bill said. He mopped off his face. "My God! what a morning! And here's old Jake. Old Jake, the human punching-bag."
"What happened inside?"
"Good God!" Bill said, "what happened, Mike?"
"There were these bulls coming in," Mike said. "Just ahead of them was the crowd, and some chap tripped and brought the whole lot of them down."
"And the bulls all came in right over them," Bill said.
"I heard them yell."
"That was Edna," Bill said.
"Chaps kept coming out and waving their shirts."
"One bull went along the barrera and hooked everybody over."
"They took about twenty chaps to the infirmary," Mike said.
"What a morning!" Bill said. "The damn police kept arresting chaps that wanted to go and commit suicide with the bulls."
"The steers took them in, in the end," Mike said.
"It took about an hour."
"It was really about a quarter of an houi" Mike objected.
"Oh, go to hell," Bill said. "You've been in the war. It was two hours and a half for me."
"Where's that beer?" Mike asked.
"What did you do with the lovely Edna?"
"We took her home just now. She's gone to bed."
"How did she like it?"
"Fine. We told her it was just like that every morning."
"She was impressed," Mike said.
"She wanted us to go down in the ring, too," Bill said. "She likes action."
"I said it wouldn't be fair to my creditors," Mike said.
"What a morning," Bill said. "And what a night!"
"How's your jaw, Jake?" Mike asked.
"Sore," I said.
Bill laughed.
"Why didn't you hit him with a chair?"
"You can talk," Mike said. "He'd have knocked you out, too. I never saw him hit me. I rather think I saw him just before, and then quite suddenly I was sitting down in the street, and Jake was lying under a table."
"Where did he go afterward?" I asked.
"Here she is," Mike said. "Here's the beautiful lady with the beer."
The chambermaid put the tray with the beer-bottles and glasses down on the table.
"Now bring up three more bottles," Mike said.
"Where did Cohn go after he hit me?" I asked Bill.
"Don't you know about that?" Mike was opening a beer-bottle. He poured the beer into one of the glasses, holding the glass close to the bottle.
"Really?" Bill asked.
"Why he went in and found Brett and the bull-fighter chap in the bull-fighter's room, and then he massacred the poor, bloody bull-fighter."
"No."
"Yes."
"What a night!" Bill said.
"He nearly