and brilliant things are done!

"Oh, that first bull, that day, was great! From the moment the
spirit of war rose to flood-tide in him and he got down to his
work, he began to do wonders. He tore his way through his
persecutors, flinging one of them clear over the parapet; he bowled
a horse and his rider down, and plunged straight for the next, got
home with his horns, wounding both horse and man; on again, here
and there and this way and that; and one after another he tore the
bowels out of two horses so that they gushed to the ground, and
ripped a third one so badly that although they rushed him to cover
and shoved his bowels back and stuffed the rents with tow and rode
him against the bull again, he couldn't make the trip; he tried to
gallop, under the spur, but soon reeled and tottered and fell, all
in a heap. For a while, that bull-ring was the most thrilling and
glorious and inspiring sight that ever was seen. The bull
absolutely cleared it, and stood there alone! monarch of the place.
The people went mad for pride in him, and joy and delight, and you
couldn't hear yourself think, for the roar and boom and crash of
applause."

"Antonio, it carries me clear out of myself just to hear you tell
it; it must have been perfectly splendid. If I live, I'll see a
bull-fight yet before I die. Did they kill him?"

"Oh yes; that is what the bull is for. They tired him out, and got
him at last. He kept rushing the matador, who always slipped
smartly and gracefully aside in time, waiting for a sure chance;
and at last it came; the bull made a deadly plunge for him--was
avoided neatly, and as he sped by, the long sword glided silently