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This street, the sink of Alexandria, was at its gayest. The cafes where cheap liquor is sold were crowded. Soldiers and sailors, natives and the riffraff of half a dozen nations, jostled one another. The twanging of guitars and the tinkling of pianos was heard from every house.
Lucien, with a blow from his machete, cut off the rattles which give to the reptile its name. These horny appendages, of which there were seven, were given to l'Encuerado, who, like all his fellow-countrymen, believed them to be endued with miraculous virtues among others, that of tuning guitars and preventing the strings from breaking.
The sound of laughter and merriment issued from it; but this was presently hushed, and two voices, accompanied by guitars, began to sing a lively seguidilla, of which, at the end of each piquant couplet, the listeners testified their approbation by a hum of mirthful applause. Before the song was over, Luis had sought and found a means of observing what was passing within doors.
Part of the food from the dishes is placed in the tambara and shrines, and then all the guests are permitted to feast and make merry. Unlike most Bagobo ceremonies this one lacks the music of the agongs, for only bamboo guitars, flutes, and the bolang-bolang are permitted at this time.
The sky is like a turquoise, the sea is like lazuli, and the mountains are like emeralds. The air? The air is just as in heaven. During the day there is sunshine, and consequently it is warm everybody wears summer clothes. During the night guitars and songs are heard everywhere and at all hours.
And a little later, by the light of glowing torches of bamboo and with the music of guitars, we leave them on the road toward the town. On the morning of the following day, Juan Crisostomo Ibarra, after visiting his estates, went to the house of Tasio, the philosopher, his father's friend. Quiet reigned in the old man's garden.
Down below in the bunkers the coal went thudding faintly, heard up on the boat deck more as vibrations than sounds, mingling with the tinkling of guitars, the lazy splash of oars; somewhere a man with a voice like a rook was cawing: "A mother was chay-sing her boy round the room, She was chay-sing her boy round the room" over and over again.
Suddenly there came faint sounds of guitars and a mandolin, and I remembered that the servants were giving a ball at the other end of the house, and that it was Christmas Eve. I rose from my table and opened the window, letting in the music with the pure icy air. The night had become quite clear; and in its wintry blue the big stars sparkled in a cluster between the branches of my pine tree.
The scene was all above him the great mass of white rocks, whiter in the moonlight; the rigid cypresses aloft; the beautiful faces, dreamy, passionate, stolid, restless, looking from the lace mantillas; the graceful arms holding the guitars; the sweet rich voices threading through the roar of the ocean like the melody in a grand recitativo; the old men and women crouching like buzzards on the stones, their sharp eyes never closing; enfolding all with an almost palpable touch, the warm voluptuous air.
When the moon comes over the mountain wall new-washed from the sea, and the shadows lie like lace on the stamped floors of the patios, from recess to recess of the vine tangle runs the thrum of guitars and the voice of singing.
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