Carmen - Prosper Mérimée (bill gates books to read .txt) 📗
- Author: Prosper Mérimée
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“‘I’m well known there too. I’ve played so many tricks on the crayfish*—and as I’ve only one eye, it is not overeasy for me to disguise myself.’
soldiers, on account of the colour of their uniform.
“‘Then I suppose I must go,’ said I, delighted at the very idea of seeing Carmen again. ‘Well, how am I to set about it?’
“The others answered:
“‘You must either go by sea, or you must get through by San Rocco, whichever you like the best; once you are in Gibraltar, inquire in the port where a chocolate-seller called La Rollona lives. When you’ve found her, she’ll tell you everything that’s happening.’
“It was settled that we were all to start for the Sierra, that I was to leave my two companions there, and take my way to Gibraltar, in the character of a fruit-seller. At Ronda one of our men procured me a passport; at Gaucin I was provided with a donkey. I loaded it with oranges and melons, and started forth. When I reached Gibraltar I found that many people knew La Rollona, but that she was either dead or had gone ad finibus terroe,* and, to my mind, her disappearance explained the failure of our correspondence with Carmen. I stabled my donkey, and began to move about the town, carrying my oranges as though to sell them, but in reality looking to see whether I could not come across any face I knew. The place is full of ragamuffins from every country in the world, and it really is like the Tower of Babel, for you can’t go ten paces along a street without hearing as many languages. I did see some gipsies, but I hardly dared confide in them. I was taking stock of them, and they were taking stock of me. We had mutually guessed each other to be rogues, but the important thing for us was to know whether we belonged to the same gang. After having spent two days in fruitless wanderings, and having found out nothing either as to La Rollona or as to Carmen, I was thinking I would go back to my comrades as soon as I had made a few purchases, when, toward sunset, as I was walking along a street, I heard a woman’s voice from a window say, ‘Orange-seller!’
“I looked up, and on a balcony I saw Carmen looking out, beside a scarlet-coated officer with gold epaulettes, curly hair, and all the appearance of a rich milord. As for her, she was magnificently dressed, a shawl hung on her shoulders, she’d a gold comb in her hair, everything she wore was of silk; and the cunning little wretch, not a bit altered, was laughing till she held her sides.
“The Englishman shouted to me in mangled Spanish to come upstairs, as the lady wanted some oranges, and Carmen said to me in Basque:
“‘Come up, and don’t look astonished at anything!’
“Indeed, nothing that she did ought ever to have astonished me. I don’t know whether I was most happy or wretched at seeing her again. At the door of the house there was a tall English servant with a powdered head, who ushered me into a splendid drawing-room. Instantly Carmen said to me in Basque, ‘You don’t know one word of Spanish, and you don’t know me.’ Then turning to the Englishman, she added:
“‘I told you so. I saw at once he was a Basque. Now you’ll hear what a queer language he speaks. Doesn’t he look silly? He’s like a cat that’s been caught in the larder!’
“‘And you,’ said I to her in my own language, ‘you look like an impudent jade—and I’ve a good mind to scar your face here and now, before your spark.’
“‘My spark!’ said she. ‘Why, you’ve guessed that all alone! Are you jealous of this idiot? You’re even sillier than you were before our evening in the Calle del Candilejo! Don’t you see, fool, that at this moment I’m doing gipsy business, and doing it in the most brilliant manner? This house belongs to me—the guineas of that crayfish will belong to me! I lead him by the nose, and I’ll lead him to a place that he’ll never get out of!’
“‘And if I catch you doing any gipsy business in this style again, I’ll see to it that you never do any again!’ said I.
“‘Ah! upon my word! Are you my rom, pray that you give me orders? If El Tuerto is pleased, what have you to do with it? Oughtn’t you to be very happy that you are the only man who can call himself my minchorro?’ *
“‘What does he say?’ inquired the Englishman.
“‘He says he’s thirsty, and would like a drink,’ answered Carmen, and she threw herself back upon a sofa, screaming with laughter at her own translation.
“When that girl begins to laugh, sir, it was hopeless for anybody to try and talk sense. Everybody laughed with her. The big Englishman began to laugh too, like the idiot he was, and ordered the servant to bring me something to drink.
“While I was drinking she said to me:
“‘Do you see that ring he has on his finger? If you like I’ll give it to you.’
“And I answered:
“‘I would give one of my fingers to have your milord out on the mountains, and each of us with a maquila in his fist.’
“‘Maquila, what does that mean?’ asked the Englishman.
“‘Maquila,’ said Carmen, still laughing, ‘means an orange. Isn’t it a queer word for an orange? He says he’d like you to eat maquila.’
“‘Does he?’ said the Englishman. ‘Very well, bring more maquila to-morrow.’
“While we were talking a servant came in and said dinner was ready. Then the Englishman stood up, gave me a piastre, and offered his arm to Carmen, as if she couldn’t have walked alone. Carmen, who was still laughing, said to me:
“‘My boy, I can’t ask you to dinner. But to-morrow, as soon as you hear the drums beat for parade, come here with your oranges. You’ll find a better furnished room than the one in the Calle del Candilejo, and you’ll see whether I am still your Carmencita. Then afterwards we’ll talk about gipsy business.’
“I gave her no answer—even when I was in the street I could hear the Englishman shouting, ‘Bring more maquila to-morrow,’ and Carmen’s peals of laughter.
“I went out, not knowing what I should do; I hardly slept, and next morning I was so enraged with the treacherous creature that I made up my mind to leave Gibraltar without seeing her again. But the moment the drums began to roll, my courage failed me. I took up my net full of oranges, and hurried off to Carmen’s house. Her window-shutters had been pulled apart a little, and I saw her great dark eyes watching for me. The powdered servant showed me in at once. Carmen sent him out with a message, and as soon as we were alone she burst into one of her fits of crocodile laughter and threw her arms around my neck. Never had I seen her look so beautiful. She was dressed out like a queen, and scented; she had silken furniture, embroidered curtains—and I togged out like the thief I was!
“‘Minchorro,’ said Carmen, ‘I’ve a good mind to smash up everything here, set fire to the house, and take myself off to the mountains.’ And then she would fondle me, and then she would laugh, and she danced about and tore up her fripperies. Never did monkey gambol nor make such faces, nor play such wild tricks, as she did that day. When she had recovered her gravity—
“‘Hark!’ she said, ‘this is gipsy business. I mean him to take me to Ronda, where I have a sister who is a nun’ (here she shrieked with laughter again). ‘We shall pass by a particular spot which I shall make known to you. Then you must fall upon him and strip him to the skin. Your best plan would be to do for him, but,’ she added, with a certain fiendish smile of hers, which no one who saw it ever had any desire to imitate, ‘do you know what you had better do? Let El Tuerto come up in front of you. You keep a little behind. The crayfish is brave, and skilful too, and he has good pistols. Do you understand?’
“And she broke off with another fit of laughter that made me shiver.
“‘No,’ said I, ‘I hate Garcia, but he’s my comrade. Some day, maybe, I’ll rid you of him, but we’ll settle our account after the fashion of my country. It’s only chance that has made me a gipsy, and in certain things I shall always be a thorough Navarrese,* as the proverb says.
“‘You’re a fool,’ she rejoined, ‘a simpleton, a regular payllo. You’re just like the dwarf who thinks himself tall because he can spit a long way.* You don’t love me! Be off with you!’
“The promise of a dwarf is that he will spit a long way.”—A
gipsy proverb.
“Whenever she said to me ‘Be off with you,” I couldn’t go away. I promised I would start back to my comrades and wait the arrival of the Englishman. She, on her side, promised she would be ill until she left Gibraltar for Ronda.
“I remained at Gibraltar two days longer. She had the boldness to disguise herself and come and see me at the inn. I departed, I had a plan of my own. I went back to our meeting-place with the information as to the spot and the hour at which the Englishman and Carmen were to pass by. I found El Dancaire and Garcia waiting for me. We spent the night in a wood, beside a fire made of pine-cones that blazed splendidly. I suggested to Garcia that we should play cards, and he agreed. In the second game I told him he was cheating; he began to laugh; I threw the cards in his face. He tried to
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