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'C(APMEN"13v Gir;aud

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THE LOTUS MAGAZINEVolume VI NOVEMBER, I914 Number 2

THE "CARMEN" OF PROSPER MERIMEEI

INTRODUCTIONARMEN is accounted one -ofthe most fascina

C, ~~ting of moder-noperas, and thetitle-role, in thehands of an artiste like Calve',one of the most effective in the entire

repertoire. Even for an out-and-outclassicist like Brahms, the opera of" Carmen" held a strong appeal, andthemost diverse schools of music haveadmired it.

There is a possibility of a brilliantrevival of it at theMetropolitan Opera

House this season. For this reason, aswell as because of the enduring mel-itsof thework itself, THE LOTUS rints aseries of characteristic passages, especially translated for it, from Prosper

Merimee's novel of "Carmen,' fromwhich the libretto of the opel-a isadapted; and also pi-ints an article by Bel-ton,

whllo knew Bizet."Carmen" at first failed; and soon

after-wvardsBizet died literally of a bl-oken heart. It is to the br-ief period ofthe composer's life immediately before,

during and after the production of"Carmen" that M. Berton's interesting article is devoted.

As stated, the libretto of "Carmen"is based on a novel by Prosper Meri

mee, whose other story, "Colombe,"is, however, much better known to

English readers. Possibly the operamade from the former is so dramaticthat ithas taken the place of the novel.This should be deplored. For, like"Colombe," "Carmen" is a beautifullywrritten book. Moreover, to readit enhances the value of the libretto ofth-eopera, since it shows how admirablyMeihlac and Halevy have caughtthe spirit of the story and how deftlythey have handled it for dramatic purposes.

In most instances the scenes andcharacters in the libretto are those ofthe book. The librettists, lhowever,practically hav7ecreated the characterof Escamillo. In the book, the bullfighter (there named Lucas) is introduced quite toward the end and wvithnothing like the effect of Escamillo inthe opera, wvhere he is exploited wvithbrilliant and highly dramatic effect.

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62 THE LOTUS MAGAZINEIn the Merimee book the story is

supposed to be told by Don Jose onthe eve of his execution not only forhis misdeeds as a bandit, but also forhaving slain Carmen. He tells thestory to a French savant, who chancesto be in Spain for the purpose ofstudying some original documents atfirst hand. This savant had met Car

men and had proved himself so littleof a savant inher hands that, when herieturned from her room to his lodging,hie found that he had been relieved ofhis fine repeatingwatch. He introducesthe narrative, which he is supposed tohiave taken down from Don Jose's lips,

with an account of his own meetingwith Carmen and his impressions ofher. This portion of Merimee's bookforms a kind of introductory to thebandit's vivid narrative. For this reason it is also tr-eated by THE LOTUSasan introduction to the other extractsfrom the story, which it has beendeemed interesting to give.

Merimee in his novel brings out thepassion, the infidelities, calculated aswell as casual, and the fierce charmsthatmake Carmen such an extraordinarily effective rBle on the stage. Inthe opera the strain of fatalism in hernature is indicated; but in the story itis so clearly brought out, from her firstmeeting with Don Jose to the end, thatit elevates the physical coarseness ofthe character into regions of tragic indifference to death.

"I first, then you. I know that ishow it is bound to happen." She isalways ready for the fatal knife-thrust.

Here then, is first given the savant'saccount of his meeting with this extrao rdinar-ycreature. The reader will note1howdiscriminating it iscompared with

that given by Don Jose in one of thelater extracts from the story. It is thesavant who now speaks:

I passed several days at Cordova.About sunset a throng of idlers alwaysis to be found on the quay that bordersthe right bank of the Guadalquivir,

where one inhales the emanations froma tannery which still maintains the ancient celebrity of Cordova for themanufacture of leather; but where also oneenjoys a spectacle that has itsmerit.For, a fewminutes before the Angelus,a great number of women assemble onthe river bank, below the fairly lhighquay. No man dares to join that group,because the theory is that as soon asthe Angelus rings, it is dark. Ther-efore, at the last stroke of the bell, the

women do not hesitate to undress andgo into thewater, whereupon there isgreat shouting and laughter and a diabolical uproar; while from the quayabove, the men stare at the bathers,squinting their eyes in their eagerness.Really they see very little. However,when vague white shapes are outlinedagainst the dark blue of the streamth-ey set poetic minds at work. Witha little imagination it is not difficultto conjure up a vision of Diana andher nymphs in the bath, without fearof the fate of Actweon. Iwas told thaton a certain day a number of scapegraces clubbed together to grease thepalm of the bell-ringer at the cathedraland hired him to ring the Angelustwenty minutes before the legal hour;

when although itwas still broad daylight, the nymphs of theGuadalquivirdid not hesitate, but trusting the Angelus rather than the sun, fearlesslymade their extremely simple bathing

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THE "CARMEN"OF PROSPERMERIMEE 63toilet. Iwas not there, and inmy daythe bell-ringer was incorruptible, thetwilight far from brilliant. Only a catcould have distinguished the oldestorange-woman from the prettiest grisette inCordova.

One evening, when itwas too dar-kto see anything, Iwas leaning againstthe parapet of the quay. smoking, whenawoman ascended the steps leading

PROSPER MERIMEE. Author of "Carmen"

to the river and seated herself besideme. In her hair was a large bouquetof jasmine, flowers which exhale anintoxicating odour at night. She wassimply, even poorly clad, all in black,likemost grisettes in the evening, thusreversing the custom of women of fashionwho wear black only in themorning.When my bather reached my side,she allowed themantilla which coveredher head to fallover her shoulders, andIsaw, by the dim light that descendeth

from the stars, that she was young,small, well built, and that she had verylarge eyes. I threw my cigar away atonce. She appreciated that distinctively French attention, and made hasteto say that slhewas very fond of thesmell of tobacco; in fact, that she sometimes smoked herself, when she couldobtain a very mild papelito. Luckily,Ihappened to have some of these in

my case. I lost no time in offeringthem to her. She took one and lightedit at a piece of burning string which achild brought in consideration of asmall coin. Mingling our smoke, wetalked so long, the fair batherand myself, that we were finally left almostalone on the quay. I thought that I

might safely venture to invite her totake an ice at the neveria, a caf6 provided with an ice-house, or rather witha reserve of snow. At first feigning

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64 THE LOTUS MAGAZINEmodest she accepted; but before making up her mind to do so, she wishedto know what time itwas. Imade myrepeater strike, and it seemed to surprise her greatly.

"What wonderful things you foreigners invent! From what country areyou,senor? AnEnglishman,nodoubt?""A Frenchman, and your humbleservant. And you, seinorita, or seiiora,are of Cordova, Ipresume?"

",No.""Then you must be an Andalusian.It seems to me that I can tell that byyour soft speech."

"If you observe everybody's speechso closely, you should be able to guesswhat Iam."" Ibelieve that you are from the landof Jesus, within two steps of paradise."This metaphor, which designates

Andalusia, Ihad learned frommy friendFrancisco Sevilla, awell-known picador." Bah! paradise-the people abouthere say that itwasn't made for us.""In that case you must be aMoor,or

I checked myself, not daring to say' Jewess.""Nonsense! you see well enoughthat Iam a gypsy. Would you like me

to tell your fortune? Have you everheard of La Carmencita? I am she."I seriously doubt whether Sefiorita

Carmen was of the pure breed; for shewas infinitely prettier than any of thewomen of her race whom I had ever

met. No woman is beautiful, say theSpaniards, unless she combines thirtypoints of beauty; or, if you prefer it,unless she can be described by ten adjectives, each ofwhich is applicable toat least three parts of her person. Forexample, she must have three blackthings: eyes, lashes, eyebrows, etc.My gypsy of the Cordova bathinghour could make no pretension to somany perfections. Her skin, albeit perfectly smooth, closely resembled thehue of copper. Her eyes were oblique,

but beautiful of shape; her lips a littleheavy but well formed, disclosing tworows of teethwhiter than almonds without their skins. Her hair, which waspossibly a bit coarse, was black with ablue reflection, like a crow's wing, andlong and glossy. To avoid wearyingyou with too verbose a description, Iwill say that for each defect she hadsome good point, which stood out themore boldly perhaps by the very contrast it offered. Her's was a strange,wild type of beauty, a facewhich tookone by surprise at first, but which onecould not forget. Her eyes, especially,had an expression at once voluptuousand fierce, such as I have never seensince in any mortal eye. "A gypsy'seye is awolf's eye" is a Spanish saying which denotes keen observation.If you have not the time to go to theJardin des Plantes to study the glanceof a wolf, observe your cat wh-en it is

watching a sparrow.

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II

DON JOSE BEGINS His STORYI F you have ever been to Seville, youmust have seen that great building,

outside of the fortifications, close totheGuadalquivir. It seems tome thatI can see the doorway and the guard

house beside itat thismoment. Whenon duty Spanish troops either gambleor sleep; 1, like an honest Navarrese,always tried to find something to do.Iwas making a chain of brass wire, tohold my primer. Suddenly my comrades said: 'There goes the bell; thegirls will be going back towork.' Youmust know, sefior, that there are fouror five hundred girls employed in thefactory. They roll the cigars in a lar-geroomwhich no man can enter withouta permit from themagistrate, becausethey are in the habit of making themselves comfortable, the young onesespecially, when it iswarm. At thehourwhen thewomen return towork,after their dinner, many young fellowsassemble to see them pass, and theymake remarks of all shades of meaning to them. There are very few ofthese girls who will refuse a silk mantilla, and the skilled in that fishery haveonly to stoop to pick up their fish.While the others stared, I remainedon my bench, near the door. Iwasyoung then; Iwas always thinking ofmy old province. Idid not believe thatany girlswere pretty unless theyworeblue petticoats and lhad long plaitedtresses falling over their shoulders.

The Andalusian girls scared me; Iwasnot accustomed as yet to their manners. They were always jesting, never

a serious word. So I hadmy nose overmy chain, when I heard some civilianscry out: 'The gitanella!' I raised myeyes and I saw her. Itwas a Friday,and I shall never forget it.

"She wore a very short red skirt,which revealed white silk stockingswith more than one hole, and tinyshoes of redmorocco, tied with flamecoloured ribbons. She arranged her

mantilla, to show her shoulders and ahuge bunch of cassia, that protrudedfrom her chemise. She had a cassiaflower in the corner of her mouth, too,and as she walked she swung her hipslike a filly in the stud at Cordova. In

my province, at sight of such awomanin that costume everybodywould havemade the sign of the cross. At Sevilleevery one paid her some insinuatingcompliment on her appearance, andshe had a reply for every one, castingsly glances here and there, with herhand on her hip, as impudent as thegenuine gypsy that she was. First offshe did not attract me, and I resumedmy work; but she, according to thehabit of women and cats, who do notcome when you call them, but come

when you refrain from calling them,-she h-alted in front of me and spoketome.

"'Compadre,' she said inAndalusian fashion, 'will you give me yourchain to hold the keys of my strongbox ?'

" ' It is to hold my primer' [epinglette], I replied.' 'Your epinglette!' she exclaimed,

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66 THELOTUSMAGAZINEwith a laugh. 'Ah! the sehor makeslace, since he needs pins!' [epingles]"Al1 began to laugh. I felt the bloodrise tomy cheeks. I could not thinkof any answer tomake.

'Well, my 1heart,' hewent on, 'makeme seven ells of black lace for amantilla, thou pincushion [epinglier] of mysoul!'

"Then, taking the flower from hermouth, she threw it at me with a jerkof her thumb, and struck me betweenthe eyes. Sefior, that had on me theeffect of a bullet. Idid not know whiclway to turn, so I sat as still as a post.When she had gone into the factory,

I saw the cassia blossom lying on theground between my feet. What mademe do it? Ido not know, but I pickedit up, unseen by my comrades, andtucked it carefully away inmy pocket

the first folly!"[Carmen's fight with another cigarette girl is then described. At his su

perior officer's command, Don Josearrests her.]" She put her mantilla over her headin such wise as to show only one of hergreat eyes, and followed my two men,as mild as a sheep. When we reachedthe guard-house, the quartermastersaid that itwas a serious matter, andthat she must be taken to prison. Itfell tomy lot again to escort her there.Iplaced her between two dragoons,and marched behind, as a corporalshould do under such circumstances.

We started for the town. At first thegypsy kept silent; but on Rue de Serpent-you know that street; itwelldeserves its name because of the detours itmakes-she began operationsby letting her mantilla fall over hershoulders, in order to show me her

bewitching face, and turning towardme as far as she could, she said:

"'Where are you taking me, myofficer?''''To prison, my poor child,' I re

plied, as gently as possible, as a goodsoldier should speak to a prisoner, especially awoman.

"'Alas! what will become of me?Senior officer, take pity on me. Youare so young, so good looking!' Thenshe added, in a lower tone: 'Let meescape, and I'll give you a piece of thebar lachi, the lodestone, a pinch ofwhich in a glass of white wine willmake all women love you.' I repliedwith as much gravity as I could command:" 'We are not here to talk nonsense;you must go to prison-that is theorder and there is no way to avoid it.'

"We natives of the Basque provinces have an accent which makes it easyfor the Spaniards to identify us; on theother hand, there is not one of themwho can learn to say even bai jaona,our 'yes, sir.' So Carmen had no difficulty in guessing where I came from.You must know, senor, that the gypsies, being of no country. are alwaystravelling, and speak all languages,and thatmost of them are perfectly athome in Portugal, in France, in theBasque provinces, inCatalonia, everywhere; they evenmake themselves understood by theMoors and theEnglish.Carmen knew the Basque.

"'Comrade of my heart,' she saidto me abruptly in Basque, 'ar-e youfrom the provinces?'

"Our language, senor, is so beautiful, that, when we hear it in a foreignland, itmakes us tremble." 'I am fi-om Elizondo,' I replied in

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THE "CARMEN"OF PROSPERMERIMEE 67Basque, deeply stirred to hear my native tongue spoken.

"'And Iam from Etchalar.' said she.That is a place about four hours journey from us. 'Iwas brought to Seville by gvpsies. Ihave been workingin the factory to earn money enough toreturn toNavarre, tomypoormother,who has no one but me to support her,and a little patch with twenty ciderapple trees! Ah! if Iwas at home, bythe white mountain! They insultedme because Idon't belong in this landof thieves anddealers in rotten oranges;and those hiussies all leagued againstine, because I told them that all theirSeville bravos, with their knives,wouldn't frighten one of our boyswith his blue cap and his maquila.Comrade, my fr-iend, won't you doanything for-a countrywoman?'" She lied, senor, butwhen she spoke,Ibelieved her. She was toomuch forme. She murdered the Basque language, yet Ibelieved that she was a Navarrese. Her eyes alone, to say nothing of her mouth and her colour, proclaimed her a gypsy. But Iwas mad.I paid no heed to anything. I eventhought that if Spaniards had daredto speak slightingly tome of the provinces, Iwould have slashed tlheir facesas she had slashed the other girl's. Inshort, Iwas like a drunken man. Ibegan to say foolish things. Iwas onthe verge of doing them."'If Ishouldpush youandyou shouldfall,mycountryman,'she continued, inBasque, 'itwould takemoore than these

two Castilian recruits to hold me.'" I forgot orders-everything-andsaid to her:"'Well, my dear, my countrywoman,try it, and may Our Lady of theMountain be with you!'"At thatmoment we were passingone of'the many narrow lanes of Seville. All of a sudden Carmen turnedand struck my chest with her fist. Ipurposely fell backward. With a springshe cleared me and began to run, showing us a fleet pair of legs! Basque legs

are famous; hers were quite equal tothem-as swift and as well moulded.Isprang up instantly; but as ifbymistake and awkwardly, I held my lancehorizontally so as to block the street.Thus my men were delayed for amoment when they attempted to pursueher. Then Ibegan to run myself, andthey at my 1heels. But overtake her!ther-ewas no danger of that, with ourspurs, and sabres, and lances! In lesstime than it takes me to tell it, the prisoner had disappeared. Besides, all thewomen in the quarter favoured herflight. They laughed at us, and sentus in thewrong direction. After much

marching and countermarching, wewere obliged to return to the guardhouse without a receipt from the governor of the prison."My men, to avoid being punished.said that Carmen had talked Basquewith me. It all seemed decidedly suspicious, or rather too clear. Iwas reduced to the ranks and sent to prisonfor a month.'

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Mlle. ILucienniieBr6val in "'Carmen''By Zulo.aga

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III'THAT IS THE LAW OF THE GYPSIES'

AFTER the ceremony of reductionE ~to the ranks, I had still anotherhumiliation to undergo, when, on myrelease from prison, Iwas made to take

my turn at sentry-duty like any private."I was stationed at the colonel's

door. He was awealthy young man,and a good fellow who liked to enjoyhimself. All the young officers wereat his house, and many civilians-women, too, actresses, so itwas said. Formy own part, it seemed tome as if thewhole city had arranged tomeet at hisdoor, in order to stare at me. Finally,the colonel's carriage drives up, wvithhis valet on the box. Whom do I seealight from it?-the gitanella'! She isarrayed like a slhrine this time, bedizened and bedecked, all gold and ribbons. A spangled dress, blue slippers,also with spangles, and flowers andlace everywhere. She has a tambourine in her hand. There are two othergypsy women with her, one young andone old. There always is an old woman to go about with them. Thenthere is an old man, also a gypsy, witha guitar, to play for them to dance.You know that it is the fashion tohire gypsies to go about to parties, todance the romalis-that is theirnationaldance-and oftentimes for somethingelse.

"Carmen recognizes me and we exchange a glance. Ido not knowvwhy,but at thatmoment Iwould have likedto be a hundred feet underground."'Agur laguna,' good-day, comrade, she says; 'you seem to be mount

ing guard, like a raw recruit, my officer!'" Before I can think of aword to sayin reply, she is inside the house."The whole company was in the

patio, and in spite of the crowd, Icould see through the gate alnmosteverything that took place. I heardthe castanets, the tambourine, thelaughter and applause; sometimes Isaw her head when she leaped intothe airwith her tambourine. And thenI heard some of the officers say to hermany things that brought the blood tomy cheeks. Idid not know what shereplied. Itwas that day, Ibelieve, thatIbegan to love her in good earnest;for Iwas tempted three or four timesto go into the patio and run my sabreinto those popinjays who were making lov7eto her. My torture lasted afull hour; then the gypsies came outand the carriage took them away. Carmen, as she passed, glanced atme againand said, very low:"' My countryman, when one likesnice fried things, one goes to LillasPastia's at Triana for them.'

"Nimble as a kid, she jumped intothe carriage, the coachman whippedup his mules, and the whole merryband drove away."You will readily guess that whenI was relieved from duty Iwent to

Triana; but Iwas shaved first, andbrushed my clothes as for a dress parade. She was at Lillas Pastia's.

" 'Lillas,' she said, as soon as shesaw me, 'I shall do nothing more today. There will be just as much ligh-t

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70 THE LOTUS MAGAZINEto-morrow. Come, my countryman,let's go for a walk.'

"She put her mantilla over her face,and behold,we were in the street,walking in the direction of Seville. As weentered Rue de Serpent, she boughta dozen oranges and bade me put themin my handkerchief. A little fartheron she bought bread and sausages,and a bottle of Manzanilla; and finallyshe entered a confectioner's shop. Thereshe tossed on the counter the gold pieceIhad given back to her with anotherthat she had in her pocket and somesmall silver; then she asked me for allthat Ihad. I had only a piecette anda few cuartos, which Igave her, sorelyvexed because Ihad no more. I thoughtthat she intended to carry off thewholeshop. She selected all the best andmostexpensive sweetmeats: sugared yolksof eggs, nougat, preserved fruits, solong as themoney held out. All thosethings too Imust needs carry in paperbags. We stopped in front of an oldhouse on the Rue di Candilejo. Sheentered the passage and knocked at adoor on the ground floor. A gypsywoman, a veritable handmaid of Satan, opened the door. Carmen said afew words to her in romnany. The oldwoman grumbled at first, and Carmen,to pacify her, gave her two orangesand a handful of bonbons, and allowed her a taste of thewine. Then she puther cloak over her shoulders and escorted her to the door, which she secured behind her with an iron bar. Assoon as we were alone, she began todance and laugh like a mad vwoman,saying:

"'You are my rom, (husband) andIam your romi (wife)!'" I stood in the middle of the room,

laden with all her purchases, not knowingwheretoputthem. She threw themall on the floor and jumped on my neck,saying:

'I pay my debts, I pay my debts!That is the law of the gypsies.'"Ah! that day, senor! that day!

When I think of it, I forget that tomorrow I am to be hung!"

"Night came on and I hear-d thedrums beating the retreat.

"' Imust go toquarters for the rollcall,' I said.

' 'To quarters?' she repeated, contemptuously; 'are you a negro, pray,that you allow yourself to be led by astick? You are a regular canary in youryellow uniform and by nature, too! Goyou chicken-hearted fellow!'

"I remained. The next morning,she was the first tomention parting.

" 'Look you, Joseito,'she said, 'haveIpaid you? According to our law, I

owed you nothing, as you are a payllo-an outsider; but, you are a comelyyouth, and you took my fancy. We arequits. Good-day.'

" I asked her when I should see heragain. 'Do you know, my son, that Ibelieve that I love you a little bit? Butit can't last. Dog and wolf can't livehappily together for long. Perhaps,if you should swear allegiance to thegypsies I should like to be your romi.

But this is foolish talk; it can never be.You have come off cheap. You havemet the devil, yes, tlhe dev'il; he isn'talways black, and he didn't wring yourneck. Iam dressed inwool, but Iamno sheep. Well, good-bye once more.Think no more of Carmencita, or shemiglht be the cause of your marryingthewidow with th-ewooden legs.' (Thegallows.)'"

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IV'You ARE THE DEVI1 YES,' SHE REPL-IED

C'sOMRADE,' said Carmen, after Ihad killed my lieutenant, in a fitof jealousy over his attentions to her,now that the king gives you no morethe soldier's ration of rice or dried fish,you must think about earning yourliving. You are too stupid to steal dexterously, but you are strong and active;if you have pluck, go to the coast andbe a smuggler. Besides, haven't Ipromised to be the cause of. your being hung? Isn't that better than beingshot? Moreover, ifyou go about it theright way you will live like a prince aslong as the irregulars and the coastguards don't get their hands on yourcollar. '

; In this engaging wvaydid that littleshe-devil point out tome the new careerfor which she destined me, the onlyone, to tell the truth, which remainedopen tome, now that I had incurredthe death penalty. Need I tell you,sefior, that she prevailed upon me without much difficulty? It seemed to methat I should become more closelyunited to her by that life of peril andof law-br-eaking. Thenceforth I feltthat Iwvas sure of her love. Ihad oftenheard of a band of smugglers who infested Andalusia, mounted on goodlhou-ses, lunderbuss in hand, and their

mistr-esses en croupe. I imagined myself trotting over mountain and valleywith the pretty gypsy behind me. WhenI sp2)ke to her about it she laugheduntil slhe hield her sides, and told methat tlherewas notlhing so fine as anighlt in camp, whlen every r-om r-etir-es

with his romi under the little tent formed of three hoops with canvas stretchedover them.

"' 'If I ever have you in the mountains,' I said to her, 'I shall be sure ofyou! There, there are no lieutenantsto share with me.'

"'Oh! you are jealous,' she replied.'Somuch the worse for you! Are youreally stupid enough for that? Don't

you see that I love you, as I have neverasked you formoney?'

The first trip and several succeedingones were fortunate. The lifeof a smuggler pleased me better than that of asoldier. Imade presents toCarmen.Ihad money and she was my romi. Isuffered little from remorse, for, as the

gypsies say; 'The scab does not itchwhen one is enjoying one's self.' Wewere well received everywhere, mycompanions treated me well, and evenshowed me much consideration; thereason being that Ihad killed a man,and there were some among them whohad not such an exploit on their consciences. But what appealed to me

most strongly inmy new lifewas thatI saw Carmen often. She was moreaffectionate with me than ever; butbefore our- comrades she would notadmit that she was my romi and shehad even made me swear all sorts ofoaths never to say anything about her.Iwas soweak before that creature thatIobeyed all her whims. Moreover, it

was the first time that she had exhibited herself to me with the reserve ofa vTirtuous woman, and Iwvas simple

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72 THE LOTUS MAGAZINEenough to believe that she had reallycorrected herself of her former manners.

"Our troop,which consisted of eightor tenmen, seldom rendezvoused except at important moments. Ordinarily we were scattered about by twosand threes, in different towns and villages. Each of us claimed to have atrade. One was a tinker, another ahorse-dealer. Iwas a silk merchant,but I seldom showed my face in thelarge places because of my unfortunate affair at Seville."One day, or rather one night, wemet at the foot of Veger. Dancaireand Iarrived there before the rest. Hewas in high spirits.

" 'We are to have another comrade,'he said. 'Carmen has just played oneof her best tricks. She has managedthe escape of her rom, who was at thepresidio at Tarifa.'" 'Wlhat's that? Her husband? Isshe married?' I asked the captain.

"'Yes,' he replied, 'to Garcia theOne-Eyed, a gypsy, as sharp as herself. The poor fellowwas at the galleys.C-armen bamboozled the surgeon atthe presidio so skilfully that she hasobtained her rom's liberty. That girlisworth her weight in gold. For twoyears she has been trying to effect his

escape. Every scheme failed until theytook it into their heads to change surgeons. With the new one she seemsto have found a way to come to anunderstanding very soon.'" You can imagine the pleasure thatthat news afforded me. I soon sawGarcia the One-Eyed; he was surelythemost loathsome monster that evergypsydom reared; black of skin, andblacker of hieart, he was themost unblushing villain that I have ever metin my life. Carmen came with him;and when she called him her rom inmy presence you should have seen theeyes she made at me and her grimaces

when Garcia turned his head." Such, sefior, was the noble life Iled. That night we found ourselves ina copse, utterly worn out. What doesthat infernalGarcia do but pull a packof cards from his pocket and begin toplay with Dancaire by the light of afirewhich they kindled. Meanwhile Ihad lain down and was gazing at thestars. Carmen was sitting near me,and from time to time she played withthe castanets and sang under her breath.Then, drawing nearer as if to speak tome, she kissed me, almost against mywill two or three times.

"'You are the devil!' I said to her."'Yes,' she replied."

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v'LETWHAT IS PLANTED COME UP'

O" NE dayshe said to me: 'We shallk...Jmeet again, Canary, before youare hung. Iam going toGibraltar ongypsy business. You will hear of mesoon.

" But when a long time had passedand we heard nothing at all from Car

men, DancaiI-e said: 'One of us mustgo toGibraltar to find out somethingabout her. She should have arrangedsome affair for us. Iwould go, but Iam too w^ell known atGibraltar.'

"The One-Eyed said:"' So am I, I've played somany games

on those lobsters, the English officersin their red coats. Besides as I haveonly one eye, I am hard to disguise.'

" 'Shall Igo then ?' said 1, overjoyedat the thought of seeing Carmen again.So Iwent toGibraltar in the guise ofa dealer in fruit.

One day, when Ipassed through astreet at sunset, I heard a woman'svoice calling to me from a window:'Orange-man!' I looked up and saw

Carnmen on a balcony, leaning on therail with an officer in i-ed,gold epaulets, curly hair-the whole outfit of agreat noble. She too was splendidlydressed-a shawl over her shoulders,a gold comb, and her dress all silk;and the saucy minx-always the same!-was laughing so that she held hersides. The Englishman called to mein broken Spanish to come up, thatthe sefiora wanted some oranges; and

Carmen said inBasque:"' 'Come up, and don't be surprisedat anything.'

" In truth nothing was likely to surprise me from her. I do not know

whether I feltmore joy or grief at seeing her again. There was a tall Englishservant with powdered hair at thedoor, who ushered me into a gorgeous salon. Carmen instantly said tome in Basque:

"' You don't know a word of Spanish; you don't know me.' Then, turning to the Englishman:. 'I told you Irecognised him at once as a Basque.

You will hear what a strange tongueit is.What a stupid look he has, hasn'the? One would takehim for a cat caughtin a pantry.'

" 'And you,' I said to her inmy language, 'have the look of a brazenfaced dog, and I am tempted to slashyour face before your lover.'

"'My lover!' she said; 'did you reallyguess that all by yourself? And youare jealous of such a simpleton? Youare more of a fool than you were before our evenings inRue de Candilejo.

Don't you see, blockhead that you are,that Iam doing thebusiness of a gypsyat this moment, and in the most brilliant fashion too? This house ismine,the red-coated lobster's guineas willbemine. I lead him by the end of thenose, and Iwill lead him to a place hewill never come out of.'",'And I,' I said, 'if you go on doingthe business of a gypsy in this way, Iwill see to it that you won't do itagain.'

" 'Ah! indeed! Are you my rom, togive me orders.? The One-Eyed thinksit's all right, what business is it of yours ?

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74 THE LOTUS MAGAZINEOughtn't you to be content to be theonly man who can say that's he's myfancy?

"'What does he say?' asked theEnglishman." 'He says he's thirsty and wants to

drink a glass,' Carmen replied."And she threw herself on a couch,

roaring with laughter at her translation."When that girl laughed, senior, it

was impossible to talk sense. Everyone laughed with her. The tall Englishman began to laugh too, like the foolhe was, and ordered something to bebrought for me to drink.

"While Iwas drinking:" 'Do you see that ring he has on

his finger?' she asked me; 'Iwill giveit to you if you want.'

"I replied:"' Iwould give a finger to have yourlord on themountains, each of us withamaquila in his hand.'

" 'Maquila-what does thatmean?.'asked the Englishman.

" 'Maquila,' saidCarmen, still laughing, 'is an orange. Isn'tthatacurious

word for orange? He says that hewould like to give you some maquilato eat.'

"'Yes?' said theEnglishman. 'Well!bring some maquila to-morrow.'Wlhile we were talking, the ser

vant entered and said that dinner wasready. Thereupon the Englishmanrose, gave me a piastre, and offered

Carmen his arm, as if she could notwalk alone. Carmen, still laughing,said tome:

" ' I can't invite you to dinner, myboy; but to-morrow, as soon as youhear the drums beating for the parade.come hiere with some oranges. You

will find a room better furnished thanthe one on Rue de Candilejo, and you

will see whether Iam still your Carmencita. And then we will talk aboutthe business of a gypsy.'

"At the first beat of the drum I tookmy bag of oranges and hurried toCarmen. Herblinds were partly open, and

I saw her gr-eat black eyewatching me.The powdered servant ushered me inat once. Carmen gave him an errandto do, and as soon as'we were aloneshe burst out with one of her shoutsof crocodile laughter and threw herself on my neck. I had never seen herso lovely. Arrayed like aMadonna,perfumed-silk-covered furniture, embroidered hangings -ah !and I,dressed like the highwayman that Iwas!

"'Minchorrod!' saidCarmen, 'Ihavea mind to smash everything here, toset fire to the house, and fly to the

mountains!'"And such caresses! and such laughter ! and she danced, and she tore herfalbalas; never did monkey go through

more antics, more deviltry, more grimacing. When she had resumed hergravity:

"'Listen,' she said, 'let us talk ofgypsy business. I've told him Iwanthim to takeme to Ronda, where Ihavea sister who's a nun (a fresh outburstof laughter here). We shall go by aplace that Iwill let you know of. Fallupon him; strip him clean! The bestway would be to finish him; but,' sheadded, with a diabolical smile whichshe assumed at certain times, and atsuch- times-no one had any desire toimitate that smile, do you knowwhatyou must do? Let the One-Eyed appear first. You stay back a little. Thelobster is brave and a good shot; he

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MME. CAILVE as CARMENPortrait by Dupont

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76 THE LOTUS MAGAZINE1iasgood pistols. Do you understand?'

" She interrupted herself with a freshburst of laughter thatmade me shudder.

" 'No,' I said, 'I hate Garcia, butwhen I rid you of him, Iwill settle myaccount after the fashion of my country. Iwill always be a downright Navarrese, as the proverb says.

"I returned to the smugglers rendezvous, knowring the place and hourw%hen the Englishman and Carmenwere to pass. I found Dancaire andGarcia waiting forme. We were camping in a wood beside a blazing fire ofpine cones. Iproposed a game of cardstoGarcia. He accepted. In the secondgame I told him he was cheating, whenhe began to laugh, I threw the cardsin his face. He tried to reach for hisgun, but I put my foot on it and saidto him: 'They say you can handle aknife like the best jaque inMalagawill you try it with me?' Dancairetried to separate us. Ihad struck Garcia two or three times with my fist.

Anger made him brave. He drew hisknife and Imine, both telling Dancaireto give us room and a fair field. Hesaw that therewas no way of stoppingus, and he walked away. Garcia wasbent double, like a cat on the point ofspringing at amouse, and he held hishat in his left hand to parry, his knifefor-ward. That is theAndalusian guard.I took my stand Navarrese fashion,straight in front of him, the left armraised, the left leg forward, the knifealong the right thigh, and I felt stronger than a giant. He rushed on me likea flash. I turned on my left foot, andhe found nothing in front of him. But

I caught him in the throat, and myknife went in so far that my hand wasunder his chin. I twisted the blade sosharply, it broke. That was the end.The knife came out of tlhewound, forcedby a stream of blood as big as your arm.He fell to the ground as stiff as a stake."' What have you done?' Dancaireasked me.

"'Look you ?' said I; 'we couldn'tlive together. I love Carmen and I

wish to be her only lover."'To the devil with love affairs!'he

cried. ' Ifyou had asked him for Carmen, he'd have sold her to you for apiastre.'"We buried Garcia and pitched ourcamp again two hundred yards axvay.The next day Carmen and her Englishman passed, with two muleteers anda servant.

"I said to Dancaire:' Iwill take care of the Englishman.Frighten theothers-they are not armed.'"The Englishman was brave. If

Carmen had not struck his arm, hewould have killed me. To make mystory short, Iwon Carmen back thatday, and my first words to her wereto tell her that she was awidow.

"' Itmeans that his time had come,she said. 'Yours will come too.'

"'And yours,' I retorted, 'unlessyou're a true romi to me.'" 'All right,' said she, 'I've readmore than once in coffee grounds thatwe were to go together. Bah! letwhatis planted come up !'

"CAndshe rattled her castanets, asshe always did when she wished tobanish some unpleasant thought."

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VI'I FIRST, THEN YOU'

W"\JHILE Iwas in hiding inGranWada therewere some bull-fightswhich Carmen attended. When shereturned she had much to sayofaveryskilful picador named Lucas. She knewthe name of his horse and how muchhis embroidered jacket cost. One dayshe said tome:" 'There's to be a fete a Cordova; Iam going to it, and I shall find outwhatpeople are going away with money andlet you know.'"I let her go. A peasant told methat there were bulls at Cordova. Myblood began to boil, and like a madman, Istarted for the city and went tothe public square. Lucas was pointedout tome, and on the bench next tothe barrier, I recognised Carmen. Asingle glance at her was enough tosatisfy me. Lucas, when the first bullappeared, played the gallant, as Ihadforeseen. He tore the cockade fromthe bull and carried it toCarmen, whoinstantly put it in her hair. The bulltook it upon himself to avenge me.Lucas was thrown down, with his

horse across his chest and the bull ontop of them both. I looked for Carmen. She was no longer in her seat.Itwas impossible forme to leave theplace where Iwas, and Iwas compelledtowait until the end of the sports. ThenIwent to a house, and I lay inwaitthere all the evening and part of thenight. About two o'clock Carmen returned, and was rather surprised tosee me.

"'Come with me,' I said to her.

"'All right!' said she; 'let us go.'"I went formy horse and took herbehind me, and we rode all the rest ofthe night without exchanging aword.At daybreak we stopped at a lonelyventa, near a little chapel. There I saidtoCarmen:" 'Listen. Iwill forget everything.Iwill never say awrord to you aboutanything that has happened. But youmust promise me one thing-that youwill go to America with me and remain quietly there.'" 'No,' she said, sullenly, 'Iwon'tgo toAmerica. lamverywell offhere.'

' 'That is because you are near Lucas. But know this, if he recovers, hewon't live to have old bones. After all,however, why should 1 be angry withhim? I am tired of killing your lovers.You are the one Iwill kill.'" She looked at me with that wildlook of hers, and said:

' ' have always thought that youwould kill me. The first time I sawyou, Ihad just met a priest at the doorof my house. And that night when weleftCordova, didn't you see anything?A hare crossed the road between yourhorse's feet. It iswritten.'

"'Carmen, don't you love me anymore?' 1asked her." She made no reply. She was seatedwith her legs crossed, on a mat, andmaking figures on the ground withher fingers."She smiled and said:I first, then you. I know that ishow it is bound to happen.'

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78 THE LOTUS MAGAZINE' ;Reflect,' Icontinued; 'I am at theend of my patience and my courage.

Make up your mind, or I shall makeup mine. Carmen, will you come withme?'

" She rose, and put her mantilla overher head, as if ready to start. My horsewas brought, she mounted behind me,and we rode away.

"'So, my Carmen,' I said, after wehad ridden a little way, 'you will gowith me, won't you?'Iwill go with you to death, yes,but Iwon't live with you any more.'

"We were in a deserted ravine; Istopped my horse." ' Is this the place?' she said.

"With one spring she was on theground. She took off her mantilla,dropped it at her feet, and stood perfectly still, with one hand on her hip,looking me in the eye.

" 'You mean to kill me, I can seethat,' she said. 'It iswritten, but youwill not makzeme yield.'

"'Be reasonable, I beg,' I said toher. 'Listen tome. All of the past isforgotten. Itwas you who ruined me.Itwas for your sake I became a robber and a murderer. Carmen! my

Carmen! letme save you and myselfwith you.'"'Jose,' she replied, 'you ask something that is impossible. I no longerlove you. You do still love me. Thatis the reason you intend to kill me. Icould easily tell you a lie, but Idon'tchoose to take the trouble. All is over

between us. As my rom, you have aright to kill your romi; but Carmenwill always be free. Gypsy she wasborn, gypsy she will die.'" I threw myself at her feet, I tookher hands, I drenched them with mytears. I reminded her of all the mo

ments we had passed together. I offered to remain a brigand to please her,everything, senor, everything, Iofferedher, if only she would love me again.

" She said to me:" 'To love you again is impossible.Iwill not live with you.'"Then frenzy took possession of me.I drew my knife. No sign of fear, nocry for mercy."'For the last time, Carmen, willyou stay with me ?'" 'No! no! no!' she replied, stamp

ing the ground with her foot. She tookfrom her finger a ring I had given herand threw it into the underbrush." I struck her twice. She fell at thesecond stroke, without a sound. Ifancy that I still see her great blackeye gazing at me. Then it grew dimand closed. I remained utterly crushedbeside that corpse for a long hour.Then I remembered thatCarmen hadoften told me that she would like to beburied in awood. Idug a grave withmy knife and laid her in it. I hunteda long while for her ring and found itat last. I placed it in the grave vithher, also a small crucifix. Then Imountedmy horse, galloped to Cordova, andgavemyself up at the first guard-house."