CARMEN

One noon-tide, during the early years of the nineteenth century, a group of light-hearted soldiers were standing together outside the guard-house in the great public square of Seville waiting for the change of guard; and as they stood there, idly watching the ever-moving crowd, they whiled away the time by making merry remarks on the passers-by.

It was a bright and lively scene, for at this time of the day the square was filled with youths and maidens just freed from morning work, who, seeking relaxation, were glad enough to sing and dance, and indulged in gay badinage one with another.

One of the soldiers without the guard-house, a brigadier named Morales, found endless amusement in watching the living panorama before him; and presently he noticed a pretty young girl, who, by her timid glances and innocent, hesitating manner, he guessed at once to be a stranger from the country.

The newcomer was indeed a humble peasant maid, by name, Micaela, who had journeyed from her village home some miles distant in search of her foster-brother, Don José, a young brigadier in the regiment now quartered at Seville, to whom she bore a message from his mother; but having made her way into the busy square, she was so much bewildered by the noisy crowd that she hardly dared to venture further.

Seeing her hesitancy, the dashing Morales swaggered forward, and asked her in easy tones whom she sought; and on learning from the trembling maiden that she wished to speak with Don José, he told her that the young brigadier would presently appear with the change of guard, and suggested that in the meantime she should accept the company of himself and his friends. But the bold, admiring glances of the gay soldiers alarmed the shy Micaela, and with a startled cry she broke from the persuading arms of Morales, and ran off to await her foster-brother's appearance in a quieter spot.

A few minutes later the guard was changed, and with the relieving party came the brigadier, Don José, a handsome youth who had some months ago left his quiet country home for the excitement and stir of a soldier's life. On being told by Morales that a pretty peasant maiden had been asking for him, Don José guessed at once that it was Micaela, and rejoiced; for having grown up together, he regarded her with much affection, and even intended to marry her, knowing this to be his mother's cherished desire.

Just as the guard was changed, the bell of a large cigarette factory at one end of the square clanged forth its noon-day chimes, and a few minutes later a noisy troop of girls employed as cigarette-makers came pouring forth from the building, laughing and chattering gaily as they mingled with the idlers in the square.

Amongst this merry throng of newcomers was a beautiful young girl of gipsy birth, named Carmen, whose dark, flashing eyes and scornful lips spoke of passionate emotions and reckless daring, and whose saucy, sparkling glances proclaimed the born coquette; and no sooner did she appear than a court of admiring youths instantly crowded around her, clamouring for her smiles and favours.

But the capricious beauty would have none of them this day, for her roving eye had fallen upon the handsome form of the young brigadier, Don José, and being greatly struck with his manly appearance, she presently went boldly forward and made acquaintance with him, declaring plainly that she liked his looks, and inviting him to meet her when next he came off duty.

Now Don José had been warned of the dangerous attractions of the lovely cigarette-girl, and so received her advances somewhat coldly; but when the saucy Carmen flung him the rose she had been wearing as she laughingly tripped away, he picked it up eagerly, enthralled by her dazzling glances in spite of himself.

At this moment Micaela appeared in the square once more, and Don José, hurrying forward, greeted her with much affection and eagerness, longing for news of his country home. The gentle peasant maiden placed in his hands a letter from his mother, and also a gift of money; and, faithful to her charge, she delivered the lonely widow's loving message, even bestowing upon him the kiss she had sent at parting.

Having thus fulfilled her quest, Micaela, still afraid of the staring crowd, departed, saying she would return again shortly; and Don José, his heart filled with tender memories of home, began to read his mother's letter. The widow besought her son not to forget his old home, but to return shortly and wed the gentle Micaela, who loved him so well and faithfully; and the young brigadier was so engrossed by the sweet visions of peaceful joy thus suggested to him, that he stood for a time lost in pleasant thought, and utterly regardless of the merry throng around him.

Presently, however, he was aroused from his reverie by loud cries and angry expostulations from amongst the cigarette-girls, and seeing that a squabble was taking place, he hurried forward with the Captain of the Guard to restore order. The reckless Carmen, ever ripe for mischief, had picked a quarrel with one of the other cigarette-makers, and her hot blood being roused by the taunts of her companion, she had quickly drawn a stiletto, and aimed a blow at her.

Seeing that the girl was wounded, the Captain of the Guard instantly ordered the fiery Carmen to be arrested, though one of her admirers himself; and then, leaving Don José in charge of the captive, he hurried into the guard-house to obtain the order for her imprisonment.

Now Carmen had no intention of going to prison; and knowing well enough that she had already attracted the handsome young brigadier, for whom a sudden passion had also grown up within her own fickle heart, she quickly determined to fascinate him still further, so that he should connive at her escape. So that when Don José tried to secure her hands with a cord, she laughingly besought him to bind her with his own arms instead, declaring saucily that she knew he loved her because he still wore the rose she had thrown to him, and since he loved her he was now in her power, and must do exactly as she commanded.

Don José, though greatly enthralled and a victim to her passionate glances, made a feeble denial of his love, but Carmen laughed derisively, declaring again that he was hers, and inviting him to meet her later at a certain inn on the borders of Seville, where they would dance and sing together as happy lovers.

The young brigadier was now completely bewitched by the enticing words of the beautiful coquette, who thus tempted him to forget his duty; and full of the intoxication of sudden love, he whispered passionately that he would help her to escape, and meet her at the border inn, if she would promise to love him in return.

Full of exultation at thus gaining her freedom and a new lover into the bargain, Carmen gave the promise, and then the two quickly arranged a plan of escape.

When the Captain of the Guard returned with the prison order, the young brigadier led the captive off at once; but ere they had gone far, Carmen gave Don José a sudden push, so that he fell to the ground, and in the confusion that followed, she managed to make her escape through the crowd.

It was easily seen by the captain and soldiers standing about that Don José had allowed himself to be thrown to the ground, and he was quickly captured and borne off to gaol. Here he was compelled to serve a term of imprisonment; but all through his lonely hours he thought constantly of the fascinating young beauty whom he now loved so passionately, and determined to keep his appointment with her directly he gained his freedom.

Meanwhile Carmen had made her way to the border inn, the landlord of which was one of a successful band of smugglers; and here, falling into gipsy ways once more, she gave her assistance to the illicit traffic, the dangers and risks of which strongly appealed to her daring spirit and love of adventure.

This border inn was the favourite resort of certain officers and soldiers in the town, who, knowing nothing of the smuggling tendencies of the landlord, went to dance and amuse themselves with the pretty gipsy girls who frequented the place. Amongst these officers was Zuniga, the Captain of the Guard, who was so fascinated by the tantalizing charms of Carmen that he made no attempt at her recapture, preferring to make love to her instead; but the careless coquette would have nothing to say to him, until he came one evening with the news that Don José had been set at liberty and allowed to return to his regimental duties. Then she condescended to smile on the captain, for she was delighted to hear of her self-sacrificing lover's freedom, knowing well that he would certainly seek her out at once; and the foolish Zuniga went away happy, imagining that he had made a conquest.

That same evening a grand torchlight procession in honour of the most popular Toreador in Seville, a gay, handsome youth named Escamillo, took place; and on passing the border inn, the Toreador and his friends stepped within. Being greatly struck with the enticing beauty of Carmen, the gay Escamillo made advances to her, seeking her good favour; but the pretty gipsy, though pleased with his handsome looks, would neither accept nor refuse his admiration, all her thoughts for the present being centred on Don José, who she knew would visit her that night.

When the Toreador, soldiers, and other customers had departed, the landlord brought in his smuggler friends to talk over a new enterprise, with which they desired the gipsy girls to help. To their astonishment, Carmen flatly refused to join them that night, declaring that she meant to wait within the inn for her lover; and in spite of her companions' expostulations and entreaties, she still clung to this resolution. Then the smugglers, knowing that threats were in vain with the fearless gipsy, suggested that she should persuade her lover also to join their expedition; and Carmen gladly agreed to this, bidding them wait for her in an adjoining room.

No sooner had the smugglers retired than she heard Don José's voice outside; and opening the door quietly, she was next moment clasped in her lover's arms. Then, whilst the young brigadier refreshed himself with the food and wine she placed before him, Carmen sang and danced in her most enchanting manner, and Don José, more in love than ever, applauded her with great delight.

But suddenly he heard the bugle call outside, sounding the recall; and knowing that this was the signal for all soldiers to return to the barracks, he rose to bid his sweetheart farewell for the night. Then Carmen was offended, saying he could not care for her or he would not be so anxious to leave her side; and in spite of Don José's explanation that his soldier's duty alone compelled him to go, she scornfully refused to listen to him, declaring that if he truly loved her he would be willing to remain, and to follow her wherever she might lead.

Employing her most practised arts of coquetry, she tempted him to give up all and fly with her and her smuggler friends to the mountains, to live the rover's life of excitement and danger, declaring that, otherwise, she would never see him again; and the poor young brigadier was nearly distracted, for, though enthralled by love, yet he could not bear to think of deserting his regiment.

Just then there came a knock at the door, and Zuniga, Captain of the Guard, entered, having come for another farewell greeting from Carmen before returning to the town; but on encountering Don José, he haughtily ordered the youth to instantly rejoin the departing soldiers, who were again sounding the bugle call. But Don José, angry at the interruption, passionately refused to go, and next moment their swords were clashing together.

Carmen triumphant at the victory she had gained, knowing that Don José at last was hers, called aloud for help, and when the smugglers rushed into the room, she made them seize and bind the unfortunate captain so that he should not interfere with their plans. Don José, now completely under the spell of Carmen's fascination, was next invited by the smugglers to join their enterprise, and upon his agreeing to do so, the whole party set off to their rocky retreat in the mountains.

Here, amidst a wild, picturesque country, the smugglers plied their illicit trade with success for some time; and Don José, though often filled with remorse for his lost position, and tortured by the thoughts of his lonely mother, who still believed in his honesty, found relief in the frequent danger he was exposed to, and delight in the constant society of Carmen. In spite of the fact that she had caused him to desert his regiment and become a smuggler, ruining his character for ever, he still passionately loved the beautiful gipsy girl; but Carmen's fickle affection grew cooler each day, and having lost the excitement of pursuit by conquest, she already wished for a new lover, and began to think tenderly of the handsome Toreador who had besought her favour at the inn. But as Carmen's love grew colder, the more passionately did Don José long to keep it, and in spite of her taunts and slights, he declared that she should not cast him off, since he would never leave her side. However, he was at last compelled to do so; and the faithless gipsy rejoiced at the chance circumstance that took away from her the lover she had grown weary of.

One day Don José was set to guard the entrance to the smugglers' haunt, and seeing a stranger climbing up the mountain-side, he raised his gun and fired. The stranger, however, leaped aside and avoided the shot, and next moment he sprang to the ledge beside his assailant, and announced himself as Escamillo, the Toreador.

This well-known name dispersed Don José's hostility at once, and greeting the newcomer with respect, he desired to know his business in the gipsy camp. Escamillo replied that he had come to see the beautiful young gipsy girl, Carmen, with whom he had fallen desperately in love, and whose favour he now hoped to gain, since he expected she had by this time discarded her last lover, a deserter from the army.

On hearing this, Don José was filled with anger and jealousy, and drawing his dagger, challenged the Toreador to fight; and Escamillo, seeing that he had unwittingly fallen upon a rival, drew his own dagger in defence. But before either could aim a stroke, Carmen, who had heard the shot fired, appeared on the scene with the smugglers, who quickly separated the pair.

Escamillo rushed instantly to the side of Carmen, greeting her with rapture, and rejoicing to find that his advances were now received with answering pleasure; and then, as the smugglers refused to allow him to remain in their midst, he bade them farewell, but invited them all ere he departed to attend the great bull-fight to be held that week in Seville, at which he expected to achieve another triumph.

When he had gone, Don José, who had seen the passionate glances Carmen had bestowed upon her new admirer, began to upbraid her, and to warn her not to torture him too much, lest he did her harm. But the reckless Carmen cared naught for his threats, even though that very day, when reading her fortune by cards, they had foretold her an early death; for the beautiful gipsy was a true fatalist, and, regardless of the future, was willing to accept evil, if evil was in store for her.

Before Don José could expostulate further with Carmen, some of the smugglers came up to him with a struggling girl whom they had just found making her way into their camp; and to his utter astonishment and dismay the young brigadier beheld his foster-sister, Micaela.

The poor peasant girl had journeyed to Seville a second time, bearing another sad message to the man she loved; and on being told of Don José's desertion and of the evil ways into which he had fallen, she had still determined to find him, that she might deliver her message, and, if possible, draw him away from the woman who had enticed him to such wrong-doing.

Having learnt that he was in the gipsy smugglers' camp, she had fearlessly made her way there; and now, on coming face to face with the object of her search, she implored him to return with her to his old home, where his lonely mother was still weeping and waiting for him. Carmen, hoping thus to be rid of her inconvenient lover, also added to this entreaty, saying that he would do well to go away, since a smuggler's life would never suit him; but Don José, stung by her scornful taunt, declared that he would never leave her side, since she only desired his absence that she might pursue her new Toreador lover.

Then Micaela, with tears in her eyes, told the wretched youth that his mother was dying, and that unless he returned with her at once he would be too late to receive her forgiveness and last blessing; and, on hearing this, Don José was distracted with grief, and his filial love overcoming all other feelings for the moment, he bade a hasty farewell to Carmen, declaring that he would be with her again in a few days.

He then went off with Micaela; and the fickle Carmen, now thinking only of Escamillo, whom she already loved, returned next day to Seville with her gipsy friends, who had by this time finished their enterprise and were eager to attend the bull-fight to which they had been invited. The gay Toreador soon found himself an accepted lover; and Carmen, now loving at last with the whole of her passionate nature, was radiantly happy with Escamillo.

On the day of the bull-fight she accompanied him to the arena; and when he had departed for the fight, she was just about to enter the enclosure in order to watch his triumph, when she saw Don José approaching. Her gipsy companions begged her to turn aside, fearing from his dark, gloomy looks that he meant to do her harm; but Carmen was brave, and, reckless of danger, she went forward to meet her discarded lover with a cool and dauntless air.

Don José, chastened by grief and suffering, gently took the beautiful girl's hand in his and besought her to return with him to his country home, that they might there live a new and better life together; adding that he loved her so dearly that he longed to save her from her evil ways.

But Carmen angrily freed herself from his grasp, saying that all was now at an end between them, since she could never love him again; and flinging at his feet the ring he had given her, she declared passionately that she loved Escamillo the Toreador with her whole heart, and would love him only until her last breath. Stung to madness by her repudiation of him, Don José's pent-up rage and jealousy now broke forth in all its fury; and, in a sudden frenzy of passion, he drew his stiletto and stabbed her to the heart.

As the beautiful Carmen sank lifeless to the ground, loud shouts of applause arose from the arena announcing the popular Toreador's victory, and next moment, accompanied by a cheering crowd of admirers, Escamillo came forth from the enclosure glowing with triumph, and eager for the praises and greetings of the woman he loved.

But those praises and greetings were never spoken, for the woman he loved lay dead at his feet.