“Here!” he said to them.
The chulos sprang out like rockets in a display of fireworks; the bull had not for an instant the idea of pursuing them. They disappeared. Medianoche found himself face to face with the matador.
This situation did not last long. The bull precipitated himself with a rapidity so sudden, that Pepe had not time to put himself on guard. All he could do was to dodge the first attack of his adversary. But the animal, contrary to the habits of those of his species, took a sudden spring, and, turning suddenly, he came like a clap of thunder on the matador, caught him on his horns, furiously shook his head, and threw at a distance from him the body of Pepe Vera, which fell like an inert mass upon the ground of the arena.
A cry, such as the imagination of Dante alone could conceive, broke forth from a thousand human breasts, a cry profound, mournful, prolonged, and terrific.
The picadores rushed towards the bull to prevent his returning to his victim. The chulos also surrounded him.
“The medias lunas! the medias lunas!” (long partisans by which sometimes the tendons are cut) cried the crowd.
The alcalde repeated the cry of the crowd.
Then were seen to appear these terrible weapons, and soon Medianoche had his tendons cut; he was red with rage and with pain.
At last he fell under the ignoble poniard of the horse-killer.
The chulos raised up the body of Pepe Vera.