The last trumpet now sounds; the arena is cleared for the third act; the espada, the executioner, the man of death, stands before his victim alone, and thus concentrates in himself an interest previously frittered among the number of combatants. On entering, he addresses the president, and throws his montera, his cap, to the ground, and swears he will do his duty. In his right hand he holds a long straight Toledan blade, la spada; in his left he waves the muleta, the red flag, the engano, the lure, which ought not (so Romero laid down) to be so large as the standard of a religious brotherhood (cofradia), nor so small as a lady’s pocket-handkerchief (panuelito de senorita): it should be about a yard square. The color is red, because that best irritates the bull and conceals blood. There is always a spare matador, in case of accidents, which may happen in the best regulated bull-fights; he is called media espada, or sobresaliente. The espada (el diestro, the cunning in fence in olden books) advances to the bull, in order to entice him toward him--citarlo á la suerte, á la jurisdiccion del engano--to subpœna him, to get his head into chancery, as our ring would say; he next rapidly studies his character, plays with him a little, allows him to run once or twice on the muleta, and then prepares for the coup de grace. There are several sorts of bulls--levantados, the bold and rushing; parados, the slow and sly; aplomados, the heavy and leaden. The bold are the easiest to kill; they rush, shutting their eyes, right on to the lure or flag. The worst of all are the sly bulls; when they are marrajos, cunning and not running straight, when they are revueltos, when they stop in their charge and run at the man instead of the flag, they are most dangerous. The espada who is long killing his bull, or shows the white feather, is insulted by the jeers of the impatient populace; he nevertheless remains cool and collected, in proportion as the spectators and bull are mad. There are many suertes or ways of killing the bull; the principal is la suerte de frente--the espada receives the charge on his sword, lo mato de un recibido. The volapie, or half-volley, is beautiful, but dangerous; the matador takes him by advancing, corriendoselo. A firm hand, eye, and nerve form the essence of the art; the sword enters just between the left shoulder and the blade. In nothing is the real fancy so fastidious as in the exact nicety of the placing this death-wound; when the thrust is true--buen estoque--death is instantaneous, and the bull, vomiting forth blood, drops at the feet of his conqueror, who, drawing the sword, waves it in triumph over the fallen foe. It is indeed the triumph of knowledge over brute force; all that was fire, fury, passion, and life, falls in an instant, still forever.