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"Agreed," replied Balbeja; "I will aim lower." "Except except my stomach also, for I was ever a friend to cleanliness, and I should not like to see myself fouled in a bad way, if your knife and arm played havoc with my liver and intestines." "I will strike higher; but let us go on." "Take care of my chest, it was always weak." "Then just tell me, friend, where am I to sound or tap you?"
"My dear Balbeja, there's always plenty of time and space to hack at a man; I have here on my left arm a wen, of which you can make meat as much as you like."
There was a lively to-do here; Don Pulpete and Don Balbeja when they saw Doña 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.
The two had already cleft the air several times with the said lancets, their cloak wound round their left arm first drawing closer, then back, now more boldly and in bounds when Pulpete hoisted the flag for parley, and said: "Balbeja, my friend, I only beg you to do me the favor not to fan my face with Juilon your knife, since a slash might use it so ill that my mother who bore me would not know me, and I should not like to be considered ugly; neither is it right to mar and destroy what God made in His likeness."
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.
"Here goes for it," said Balbeja, and he hurled himself like an arrow; the other warded off the thrust with his cloak, and both, like skilful penmen, began again tracing S's and signatures in the air with dashes and flourishes without, however, raising a particle of skin.
"Señor Balbeja," replied Pulpete, drawing his face aside and spitting with the greatest neatness and pulchritude towards his shoe, "I am not the kind of man either for La Gorja or other similar earthly matters, or because a steel tongue is sheathed in my body, or my weasand slit, or for any other such trifle, to be provoked or vexed with such a friend as Balbeja.
"Give me that fist, Don Pulpete." "Your hand, Don Balbeja." They spoke and strode out into the street, the best friends in the world, leaving me all amazed at such whimsicality. Juan Eugenio Hartzenbusch It is as sorry a matter to use words of whose meaning one is ignorant as it is a blemish for a man of sense to speak of what he knows nothing about.
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