Upon seeing her the tavern-keeper dropped his instrument, and I was overtaken by perturbation such as I had not experienced for thirty years (I am, after all, only flesh and blood); but, without halting for such lay-figures, she advanced to the field of battle.

There was a lively to-do here; Don Pulpete and Don Balbeja when they saw Dona Gorja appear, first cause of the disturbance and future prize for the victor, increased their feints, flourishes, curvets, onsets, crouching, and bounds—­all, however, without touching a hair.  Our Helen witnessed in silence for a long time this scene in history with that feminine pleasure which the daughters of Eve enjoy at such critical moments.  But gradually her pretty brow clouded over, until, drawing from her delicate ear, not a flower or earring, but the stump of a cigar, she hurled it amidst the jousters.  Not even Charles V’s cane in the last duel in Spain produced such favorable effects.  Both came forward immediately with formal respect, and each, by reason of the discomposure of his person and clothes, presumed to urge a title by which to recommend himself to the fair with the flounces.  She, as though pensive, was going over the passage of arms in her mind, and then, with firm and confident resolution, spoke thus: 

“And is this affair for me?”

“Who else should it be for? since I—­since nobody—­” they replied in the same breath.

“Listen, gentlemen,” said she.  “For females such as I and my parts, of my charms and descent—­daughter of La Gatusa, niece of La Mendez, and granddaughter of La Astrosa—­know that there are neither pacts nor compacts, nor any such futile things, nor are any of them worth a farthing.  And when men challenge each other, let the knife do its work and the red blood flow, so as not to have my mother’s daughter present without giving her the pleasure of snapping her fingers in the face of the other.  If you pretend you are fighting for me, it’s a lie; you are wholly mistaken, and that not by halves.  I love neither of you.  Mingalarios of Zafra is to my taste, and he and I look upon you with scorn and contempt.  Good-by, my braves; and, if you like, call my man to account.”

She spoke, spat, smoothed the saliva with the point of her shoe, looking Pulpete and Balbeja full in the face, and went out with the same expressive movements with which she entered.

The two unvarnished braggarts followed the valorous Dona Gorja with their eyes; and then with a despicable gesture drew their knives across their sleeve as though wiping off the blood there might have been, sheathed them at one and the same time, and said together: 

“Through woman the world was lost, through a woman Spain was lost; but it has never been known, nor do ballads relate, nor the blind beggars sing, nor is it heard in the square or markets, that two valiant men killed each, other for another lover.”

“Give me that fist, Don Pulpete.”