“Señora,” said the alferez furiously. “Thank yourself that I don’t forget that you are a woman; for if you were not, I would kick you to pieces, with all your curls and ribbons.”
“Se—se—señor al—alferez!” said Don Tiburcio.
“Go ahead! Kill us! You don’t wear big enough trousers, you quack.”
And so the battle waged: words, gestures, cries, insults, and injuries. They brought out all the nasty things they could think of, all four speaking at the same time, and, saying so many things and bringing to light so many truths, that we will not relate here all that was said. The people who had gathered around to satisfy their curiosity, if they understood all the remarks, must have enjoyed themselves not a little. They were all waiting to see them come to blows. Unfortunately for the spectators, the curate came along and pacified them.
“Señoras! señoras! What a shame. Señor alferez.”
“What are you meddling in these matters for, you hypocrite, you Carlist?”
“Don Tiburcio, take away your wife! Señora, hold your tongue!”
“Tell that to those robbers of the poor!”
Finally, the dictionary of epithets was exhausted. The review of the disgraces of each couple was ended, and little by little they were separated, threatening and insulting each other. Father Salví kept going from one side to the other, adding life to the scene.
“This very day we will go to Manila and we will present ourselves to the Governor General,” said Doña Victorina, in fury to her husband. “You are not a man. It is a shame that you spend money for trousers.”