The Governor's Wife/Act 1

by Jacinto Benavente

THE GOVERNOR'S WIFE

THE FIRST ACT

The main square of Moraleda. As the curtain rises, the church-bells ring and a discharge of fireworks is heard. Crowds move backward and forward across the stage in every direction. Newsboys rush up and down calling "Daily Mail," "Voice," "Programme of the Bull-fight," "Names and Descriptions of all the Bulls."

Presently Don Rosendo disengages himself from the crowd and seats himself at one of the tables which stand before the café opening upon the main square. Damian approaches him.

Damian. Good morning, Don Rosendo.

Rosendo. Good morning.

Damian. A fine day, sir! If this weather only continues through the feria! Well, what will be it to-day, Don Rosendo? Beer? [Saluting the passers-by] Good morning, gentlemen. A fine day, eh? If we could only have this weather every fiesta! [To Don Rosendo] Did you say beer?

Rosendo. No. Bring me coffee and toast.

Damian. Coffee and toast? [Laughing] Diablo, Don Rosendo! What ever put such an idea in your head?

Rosendo. Man! One must eat. After dressing the window since six o'clock in the morning…

Damian. Busy times for us all, Don Rosendo. Do you open to-day?

Rosendo. Only the window; this is a holiday.

Damian. Yes, but in the middle of the feria! You will lose money.

Rosendo. What of it? I cannot afford to offend the ladies. They have formed a society under the patronage of the bishop—you know the bishop has always been very partial to me?

Damian. I know, sir. [Calling] Coffee and toast! Well, every man to his taste. Excuse me, a lady— [To a young woman who is passing] Won't you have something?… Oh! I see. A full basket?… Guests, eh?… Of course!… Well, if you won't… [Returning to Don Rosendo] Don Baldomero's housekeeper. A fine girl! They say she's the real mistress of the house; a mountaineer from Villaquejido—yes, sir. Don Baldomero has an eye for the ladies. If she is number one, number two for Doña O, although they tell me she was beautiful once, yes she was! But time flies. That girl and Don Baldomero—would you believe it?—just between us, don't say a word—she poisons her mistress's life. Yes, sir! What do you think of that? All I know is she comes in every morning to get an ice.

Rosendo. You poison your ices.

Damian. No, what an idea! Speaking of antidotes, did you read "The Memoirs of a Chief of Police. A Half Century of Crime"? An old poisoner, who always gave his victims something deadly in their coffee, which it was impossible to distinguish from the drink, until one day the chief of police got down to the bottom of his cup——

Rosendo. But man! My coffee!

Damian. Your coffee? Caramba! Haven't you had yours yet? Really, I have to laugh, Don Rosendo. Coming!… The toast on the side?

Rosendo. Wherever it happens to drop.

Damian's goes out. Meanwhile La Menéndez and Garcés have entered, seating themselves at one of the tables. As Damian is about to disappear into the café, Garcés calls to him.

Damian. [Re-entering] Well, what is it going to be?

Garcés. Nothing at present. Bring pen and paper.

Damian. And the lady?

Garcés. The same for the lady.

Damian. Pen and paper for two, sir?

Garcés. No, no, nothing at present.

Damian. [Calling] Pen and paper! [To Don Rosendo] From the theatre—the company that's playing through the feria. Not so bad, eh? On the side… Coming! [Goes out

Menéndez. Are you writing to some one?

Garcés. No. We are expected to order: I can do my accounts. I am not like most actors—Bohemians, who know nothing about business. I keep all my bills. Whatever I make, I always save half, and am never in want.

Figuring at his accounts. Damian re-enters.

Damian. [To Don Rosendo] The toast, sir. [Calling through the window] Coffee!

Menéndez. I shall not pay that rascal more than four pesetas when the feria is over. Now he is charging six for a room opening on an inner court with a bed in it that's so big that no woman could ever occupy it alone.

Garcés. Don't say that.

Menéndez. Why? Did I say anything?

Garcés. Say occupy—not alone. Don't you see? It sounds better. Don't you understand syntax? Can't you express yourself correctly? How do you expect to appear in a purely literary play unless you express yourself properly, unless you know grammar? It is easy to see you were brought up in the varieties.

Menéndez. Yes, and there was something doing in the varieties while I was in them, I can tell you. Now what do we get with this legitimate stuff? Five coppers a week—when we get them. The people here are all against us. They won't let us play "Oscurantismo"; it's the only show we have that has a chance.

Garcés. "Obscurantismo"; there is a b between the o and the s.

Menéndez. O, be… s!

Garcés. Yes, with emphasis on the s. Correct! And you are to play the part of Lucinda, the personification of wisdom. I suppose you understand that the play is wholly symbolic? Have you prepared yourself for your part? You don't even know what you are going to wear.

Menéndez. With our trunks held for board in Madrid?

Garcés. Never mind our trunks. Don Paco has promised me money from the advance. Then we can send to Madrid and there are our clothes.

Menéndez. Yes, advance! Somehow or other, I have an idea that we are going to be run out of this place without any advance.

Garcés. Run without any advance? Impossible!

Menéndez. They say this town is very puritanical—that is proper, I suppose. They'll never let us play "Obscurantismo."

Garcés. Correct this time.

Menéndez. If they do, nobody will come to see us.

Garcés. Pshaw! There is a strong liberal element.

Menéndez. It will get a chill the first night and after that it won't be heard from. Besides, if the women don't come, the men won't. Then what will become of the audience?

Garcés.

"Out, gentlemen, to die!
The ladies stay and pray."

Menéndez. The papers all score us. They call us actresses Messalinas.

Garcés. Oh, people make allowances for that.

Menéndez. They say the actors are rotten.

Garcés. That is too bad!

Menéndez. And I'd hate to tell you what they say about the management.

Garcés. Bigots! Fanatics!—Waiter, the papers! The morning papers!

Damian. Here you are, sir: The Echo, The Voice. When do you open? Believe me, the town is on tiptoe. I wonder if you are going to play that piece which has made such a sensation? We certainly do need it here. People are very pharisaical.

Garcés. Pharisaical is the word.

Damian. The fact is, the ladies have formed a league.

Garcés. A league?

Damian. Yes, sir, and they will be against you. They have been here already to ask the proprietor not to distribute the hand-bills nor to allow placards to be hung in the café.

Menéndez. What do you think of that?

Garcés. Bigots! Fanatics! Spain is going to the dogs. They'll rend us limb from limb.

Menéndez. And nobody will come to see us! I knew it all the time.

Damian. Not if you have a league of ladies against you.

Music and cries down the street. A number of boys run across the stage.

Menéndez. What is the matter?

Garcés. What has happened?

Damian. It's the bull-fighters—the toreros arriving at their hotel. The Hotel of the Universe, sir.

Garcés. What enthusiasm! Rome in her decadence was never like this.

Damian. Campos, the torero of the day. Ah!

Menéndez. Who gets six thousand pesetas at every corrida?

Garcés. And the fellow doesn't even know how to talk!

Damian. Really, you do him injustice. Campos is a very cultivated person; it is pleasure to listen to him. He can converse upon any topic—politics, for instance, music. It is the same thing as reading the papers. He is received by the best people.

Garcés. Would you believe it, at our boarding-house they wanted to make us pay in advance?

Damian. Are you going to the fight?

Garcés. No, I detest the spectacle. They usually send me free tickets when I am in Madrid out of compliment, but I always get rid of them to some friend at a discount, and so save myself the trouble of going.

Damian. [To Don Rosendo] Are you going, Don Rosendo?

Rosendo. I may at the last moment. When you think how these toreros used to slink in at the station with their packs on their backs, and then look at these fellows… Did you see? Riding if you please in the coach of the Marquis of Solar! How are the bulls this year?

Damian. A new herd in the plaza, belonging to the Marquis of Torrelodones. Campos insisted upon it, as he is a friend of the Marquis's daughter. She is in town to see the corrida. They are related to the Governor.

Rosendo. Are they staying at the Palace? Now I remember they were in the shop yesterday to make some purchases with the Governor's wife. Clearly people of taste.

Damian. Here comes the Governor.

Rosendo. On his way to service at the cathedral. [Don Santiago enters, surrounded by a group of dignified and elderly gentlemen. They pass across the stage] Your servant. Your Excellency.

Santiago. Delighted to see you. [Goes out.

Garcés. Was that the Governor?

Rosendo. What a cultivated gentleman!

Garcés. Is he a good man?

Rosendo. Excellent.

Menéndez. Then he will not interfere with us.

Garcés. Don't say that. Tell me, is he liberal in his opinions?

Rosendo. Liberal? In Moraleda it isn't worth one's while to be liberal. Imagine, every year on the eleventh of February the republicans unite to dine together in this café, and they always eat at two tables, because there are four of them, and they are divided into two parties.

Menéndez. Gracious! What a place to come to! The minute you scent money, touch Paco for the advance.

Garcés. Scent money? How you talk!

Doña O and Esperanza enter from Don Rosendo's shop.

Doña O. We have been shopping so long that we shall be too late for the sermon.

Esperanza. Don't be silly, mamma. You know Josefina said there was no need to hurry. She promised to keep two good seats for us.

Rosendo. [Bowing] Señora Doña O! Señorita Esperanza!

Doña O. Why, Don Rosendo! We just this moment left your shop.

Rosendo. To what am I indebted for the honor? The shop is closed to-day.

Doña O. Another notion of my daughter's! She insists that if she is going to the bull-fight, she must have a mantilla with tassels on it.

Rosendo. How charmingly appropriate!

Esperanza. Thank you so much. Who is that woman you were talking to?

Rosendo. Hm! I don't know… that is, a stranger. The fact is, they were asking me…

Doña O. [Looking them over] Heavens! But she has a bad face. I hope I do not do her injustice.

Menéndez. [Aside to Garcés] Look at that old hypocrite staring at me.

Garcés. Don't you stare back. Somebody must have manners.

Rosendo. I hope you found something to suit.

Doña O. I arranged with the boy to send home some things on approval. We can make up our minds later at our leisure.

Rosendo. As you say.

Doña O. Heaven knows what we are going to do with any more mantillas! We have them by the dozen in the house already, and of the very best quality: blacks, whites, creams, browns. But somehow or other, something always seems to be lacking. My daughter always wants something that she hasn't yet got.

Rosendo. It is the way with all young ladies.

Esperanza. I never have anything that I want, Don Rosendo; they always advise me.

Doña O. For heaven's sake, don't begin talking nonsense! Fortunately you understand, Don Rosendo.

Rosendo. I know her father.

Esperanza. I never have my own way. I have nothing to live for…

Doña O. My dear, don't make yourself ridiculous. The next thing, I suppose, she'll be wanting to die.

Rosendo. Doña Esperancita!

Esperanza. I am very unhappy!

Doña O. Don't you believe a word of it. Fortunately you understand…

Rosendo. Perfectly, Doña O.

Doña O. However, you might send the mantillas. Meanwhile, we shall be at the cathedral.

Rosendo. Does His Reverence preach this morning?

Doña O. Yes, and he will have something to say, too, which will be a novelty. Did you ever hear of such an outrage? In the midst of the feria these impudent actors come here to perform this infamous play!

Menéndez. Will you listen to that?

Garcés. Calm yourself. Somebody must be tolerant.

Doña O. Oh, His Reverence will be heard from! He knows what he is talking about—and yet all the while it really seems as if he were saying nothing at all.

Rosendo. I have noticed that myself.

Esperanza. What an attractive display you have for the fiesta!

Rosendo. I always endeavor to present some novelty for the holidays, if only for the honor of the shop—and Moraleda.

Doña O. You show excellent taste.

Esperanza. How cunning, mamma! Look! An orchestra of pigs!

Rosendo. Did you notice the brooches? They are art nouveau.

Esperanza. Yes, they were lovely. Send me home some to select from.

Doña O. And don't forget the pigs. I can see she has set her heart on them. Even then she won't be satisfied.

Rosendo. Hardly, at her age. Young ladies don't know what they want. As you say, when they do, it is always something that they haven't yet got.

Doña O. Good morning, Don Rosendo. Come, Esperancita! Don't let me catch you looking in that window again.

Rosendo. I shall send everything. Good morning.

Esperanza. Do you know, instead of those pigs I believe I'd rather have that dog in the automobile? The little rascal!

Rosendo. Suit yourself.

Doña O. What did I tell you? Hurry, my dear! If we don't, we shall be too late to get seats.

Doña O and Esperanza go out, continuing the conversation.

Menéndez. Are those some of your best people?

Damian. I should say they were! They are the wife and daughter of Don Baldomero Remolinos, the richest man in Moraleda. The girl is an only child and will inherit half the province.

Rosendo. They call her the Golden Girl. Her parents deny her nothing.

Damian. Except her marriage with Don Manolito. They have some pretty hot times together—at least so I hear from the servants.

Rosendo. Why shouldn't her parents object? Who is Don Manolito? The Governor's secretary—one of those bounders from Madrid. It is all his fault the way things go here. Don Santiago does nothing. Beyond question, he was responsible for that last gambling scandal.

Damian. You see, sir, the secretary and the Governor's wife…

Garcés. Aha! Good for Moraleda!

Menéndez. And yet they make so much fuss about a play.

Rosendo. How much do I owe you?

Damian. Forty centimes, and a beer yesterday.

Rosendo. That's so, I forgot. I must hurry and send those things to Doña O.

Damian. Good morning, Don Rosendo.

Rosendo. Good morning.

Garcés. Good morning.

Menéndez. Good-by. [Don Rosendo goes out.

Garcés. [Nodding toward the rear] The proprietor of that shop?

Damian. Yes, sir, and a very liberal gentleman, accommodating, always polite with the ladies, although his customers are all respectable folk…

Menéndez. I didn't like the way he spoke of Madrid. Bounders! I am a Madrileña.

Damian. Oh, don't mind him! When his first wife ran off the second time, it was with a gentleman from Madrid.

Garcés. Prejudice, of course.

Don Teodoro and Don Guillermo enter.

Guillermo. How do you know?

Teodoro. Oh, it's a long story, but delicious! When I make up my mind to find out a thing, depend upon me. Man! Don Rosendo's shop is closed.

Guillermo. So it is. We might stop at the café. We have time for a vermouth before the music.

Teodoro. [Discovering La Menéndez] I remember that face.

Guillermo. Strangers.

Teodoro. Damian!

Damian. Ah, gentlemen! You are early this morning. What weather we are having for the feria! Well, what is it going to be?

Guillermo. Bring two vermouths with bitters.

Damian. How is it that you are not at the cathedral? I know you are not overreligious, but, Don Teodoro, if only to see the ladies…

Teodoro. No, I saw all that I wanted in the Calle San Pablo—the display was satisfactory. Every day they grow more beautiful. There's a great advance this year.

Damian. Clotilda, the hair-dresser, dropped in this morning. She was asking for you. Busy times for us all.

Teodoro. That girl is too serious. She talks about marriage as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Damian. To you?

Teodoro. In such matters I make it a rule to follow the catechism: the sacraments in their proper order. Marriage comes seventh, after extreme unction.

Damian. Good!

Guillermo. [Laughing loudly] Who would ever have thought of that?

Damian. Unless it were yourself, Don Guillermo; only you do all your work in the dark. Do you know who has moved in across the street? Teresa, the corsetière.

Teodoro. A terrible bore. She reckons everything from the date of her mishap. "One year after," "Two years after"…

Damian. What mishap was that?

Teodoro. Ah!

Damian. Why! She's a slip of a child——

Teodoro. Exactly, a slip of a child.

Guillermo [Laughing] Ah! Ah! Clever!

Damian. Now who would ever have thought of that?

Guillermo. Ready for anything! I envy that man; he will have his joke.

Damian. We all know Don Teodoro.

Guillermo. I have no mind for such business, but if you could only put down everything that has happened to him, saints and martyrs, but you would have a book!

Damian. It would be on the index expurgatorius.

Teodoro. Bring us the vermouths. [Damian goes out.

Menéndez. The town sports.

Garcés. Two of the boys.

Teodoro. I know that face. We must ask Damian.

Menéndez. But where is Don Paco? I am famished.

Garcés. He may find nobody at the Palace on a day like to-day.

Menéndez. It would be awful to leave without taking anything.

Garcés. Order what you like; the waiter knows us by this time. We might pay him to-morrow.

Menéndez. I'll have coffee and toast. The chocolate here is dreadful.

Garcés. Toast? An actress in a first-class company seen eating in public? Try something delicate. Take tea.

Menéndez. You can't fill me up on tea.

Teodoro. [To Guillermo] Hello! Who is that on the balcony?

Guillermo. She sees us.

Teodoro. Striking poses, eh? Look, there!… Feeding the canary sugar with her mouth. What a picture that would make!

Guillermo. It's a pity her husband is such a brute.

Damian re-enters with the orders.

Damian. The vermouth and bitters. What's the matter? Ah! The captain's wife! [Mysteriously] Every morning after he goes off to the barracks she comes out on the balcony and makes a signal—I don't know to whom, but it's to some one.

Teodoro. About what time?

Damian. Between eight and nine.

Teodoro. I must get around some morning myself.

Menéndez. Look, look!… Don Paco, At last! [Calling] Don Paco!

Garcés. He sees us.

Teodoro. [To Damian] Pst! Who are those people?

Damian. Actors—the company that's opening at the theatre.

Teodoro. Ask her whether she was ever in Almendralejo and if her name is Luisa.

Damian. Certainly, sir. In Almendralejo?

Menéndez. Who is that talking to Paco?

Garcés. That rascal, Moreno. He is making a strike… Ha! He doesn't see us.

Damian. [To La Menéndez] Don't seem to notice, but that gentleman wants to know whether you were ever in Almendralejo, and if your name is Luisa.

Menéndez. [Addressing Teodoro directly] In Almendralejo? Did you see me there?

Teodoro. In eighty-four.

Menéndez. No, no, in ninety-two.

Teodoro. Right, in ninety-two. It was ninety-two, my dear Luisa!

Menéndez. My name isn't Luisa any more, but it is I. Holy Mother! But you have changed. I can't remember you at all.

Teodoro. You can't remember me?

Menéndez. Not at all.

Teodoro. Then I'll have to remind you.

Menéndez. [Calling him over] Do, do! I wish you would!

Guillermo. [To Damian] This Teodoro! Clever!

Damian. Now who would ever have thought of that?

Paco enters.

Paco. [To Garcés] I beg your pardon. I am sorry to have kept you waiting.

Garcés. What news? Good?

Paco. Splendid! The best. Who is that talking to Adela?

Garcés. Oh! Some old admirer. Adela! I beg your pardon… Here is Don Paco.

Menéndez. Ah, Don Paco! What news?

Garcés. Good. The best! Nothing could be better.

Menéndez. Which?

Garcés. Nothing could be better than best.

Menéndez. [To Paco] Let me embrace you.

Garcés. Woman! Not on the public street! You mustn't let people see you embracing Don Paco, not if we are to appear here in that scandalous play. Have a little reserve.

Menéndez. What difference does it make? He's our manager. A manager isn't a man; he's like an author on a first night. You embrace him without meaning anything by it. [To Don Teodoro] This gentleman is our manager.

Paco. Delighted to meet you.

Guillermo. You must be a bold man, sir, to come here to present this objectionable play.

Teodoro. "Obscurantismo." We are anxious to see what it is like.

Menéndez. Why? Don't you think?…

Teodoro. I am afraid you are going to be disappointed and lose your money.

Menéndez. Ah, Don Paco! But you said you brought good news.

Paco. So I did. For the present the Governor will not prohibit the performance, as we feared.

Guillermo. But have you seen the Governor's wife? Wait till she hears of it.

Teodoro. Nothing is done here without her approval. She belongs to everything—all the ladies' clubs and all the church societies. She will never consent to her husband's prejudicing himself by permitting the performance of an objectionable play.

Guillermo. If you do give it, nobody will come to see you. Not even the official element.

Teodoro. You cannot count upon the ladies, and without the ladies you cannot count upon the men. A theatre without women is like—what shall I say?—like a jail without birds.

Garcés. An excellent comparison.

Paco. But the Governor cannot disobey the laws.

Guillermo. It is not necessary to disobey the laws. All he need do is to enforce all of them. The theatre has no fire protection, the gallery is falling down…

Menéndez. Ay! Don Paco! It's a death-trap!

Teodoro. Who asked you to come here with this "Obscurantismo," anyway?

Garcés. Well, sir, all I have to say then is that this town must have changed a great deal. I played an engagement here during the revolution when we had the republic, and there were a great many liberals here in those days. I remember particularly one Baldomero Remolinos—he was called Baldomero after General Espartero.

Teodoro. [Laughing] Will you listen to that?

Guillermo. Ha! Ha! [Laughing also.

Garcés. What is the matter?

Guillermo. Nothing is the matter. Why, this Baldomero to-day is the greatest magnate in Moraleda—he is the grand seignior. He pays what taxes he likes, holds mortgages on one-half of the province, has notes on the other half, and he would go into an apoplexy if he should so much as hear the sound of the revolutionary hymn.

Garcés. The "Hymn of Riego"? Is it possible.?

Menéndez. He must be the man they were telling us about. Is he the father of a very spoiled girl?

Guillermo. Named Esperanza.

Menéndez. Who is madly in love with the Governor's secretary? And her parents won't let them marry?

Teodoro. Exactly.

Paco. In love with the Governor's secretary. With Don Manolo?

Teodoro. Yes. Do you know him? Keen as a razor—a young chap from Madrid?

Paco. Do I know him? Well, I should say so. Do I? Adela, Garcés, give me your hands. We are saved! We are the masters of Moraleda—yes, as much as Don Baldomero, more than the Governor, as much even as the Governor's wife.

Menéndez. Goodness! What has happened?

Garcés. Don't stop!

Paco. Nothing has happened, but Manolo, the Governor's secretary, is my brother.

Menéndez. Your brother?

Garcés. Bastard or legitimate?

Paco. How bastard? Leave off with your plays.

Teodoro. Well, upon my word!

Guillermo. And to think we were innocent! What a coincidence!

Teodoro. The early bird! It pays.

Paco. Imagine my surprise when I heard the name of my brother at the Palace—the last place I ever expected to find him. It is five years since we have seen each other—not since I sailed for Buenos Aires. We began earning our living so young.

Menéndez. But didn't you see him?

Paco. No, he was at the cathedral. But I dropped him a few lines, and I am expecting an answer.

Garcés. You parted good friends?

Paco. Naturally. If we haven't written for so long it was … it was… well, why was it? Because that is the way we are made. When a man has to grapple with life for his bread, he forgets everything. Affection becomes a burden that bears him down.

Garcés. Talk of the theatre! There is a drama in this.

Teodoro. This puts another face on the matter. Now, with the support of your brother, you will make money.

Menéndez. [To Don Teodoro] God bless you!

Teodoro. Nothing can stop you. With Esperanza, the daughter of Don Baldomero, backed by her father and his money on the one hand, and the Governor's wife with her influence—for she has influence—and all the ladies' societies on the other, how can you help making money? Eh, Guillermo?

Guillermo. How can they help it?

Teodoro. Especially since your brother is so popular with the ladies—without offense to you, sir. He can do whatever he pleases.

Paco. No, no! No offense to me! Believe me, if I leave here with my pockets full of pesetas, there'll be no offense to me.

Menéndez. Nor to any of us.

Guillermo. Then don't trouble yourselves. If your brother protects you, you are sure to make money.

Teodoro. In this world and the next, so much is a question of skirts.

Menéndez.

"When lovely woman"…

Garcés. No more of your vaudeville stuff!

Paco. Adela, Garcés, I invite you to lunch to celebrate our good fortune. Gentlemen, will you join us?

Teodoro. Thank you, success. Good luck in Moraleda!

Paco. Happy to have met you, I am sure. [To Garcés and La Menéndez] Pass into the restaurant.

Garcés. They are waiting for us at our boarding-house.

Menéndez. Oh, let them wait! What difference does it make? They will get used to it. Don Paco, I am hungry.

Garcés. Not on top of what you have just had?

Menéndez. What?

Garcés. And the sherry.?

Menéndez. Yes, but after the bicarbonate…

Paco. We might sit by the window and enjoy the paseo. In this town it begins after high mass.

Menéndez. [To Garcés] Do you think we fooled him with those sandwiches?

Garcés. What sandwiches?

Menéndez. Go on and eat! Adios, Don Teodoro.

Teodoro. Adios, Luisa—I mean Adela.

Paco, Garcés and La Menéndez pass into the café.

Guillermo. That was a discovery. We are in luck.

Teodoro. Nothing was wanting except the family portrait. The Governor's secretary, brother of a theatrical manager of a travelling troupe! What a scandal!

Guillermo. If the play is not performed, all the proprietors of the gambling-houses which have been closed by the Governor's order, will set up a howl in the name of liberty. If what they say about favoritism is true——

Teodoro. Of course it is. There is no playing anywhere except at Pedrosa's. And do you know why? Because Don Baldomero makes a fortune out of the rent, and he uses his influence with the Governor to prevent them from playing anywhere else. Haven't you seen the Abejorro? Here is the last number. It's tremendous!

He takes a handful of papers out of his pocket, and lets a letter drop.

Guillermo. Letters, eh?

Teodoro. Yes. You could never guess… Here is the Abejorro.

Guillermo. Who the devil is behind this?

Teodoro. Reinosa, the proprietor of the Recreo. They have shut up his house. Listen: "In preparation for the feria several large candelabra have been placed in front of the Governor's Palace, in the worst possible taste. In view of the circumstances, it would seem that His Excellency might have chosen a less public occasion on which to turn on the light."

Guillermo. The devil you say! To turn on the light!

Teodoro. Wait! "In order to insure the greater success of the Bull-fight to-morrow, the Governor is to preside over the Plaza. In the interest of sport, it is to be hoped that the ignorance of His Excellency does not extend to all matters which take place under his eye." What do you think of that?

Guillermo. No, no, that is his business. I don't see the connection. A man may be a good governor…

Teodoro. And yet be afraid to turn on the light? It's not in the oath of office.

Guillermo. Hello! What's the crowd?

Teodoro. Campos, the bull-fighter, and the people shouting after him.

Damian enters.

Damian. Here comes Campos!

A crowd of men and boys run across the stage shouting "Campos!" "Campos!"

Menéndez. [Rising in her seat in the window] What a figure! What jewels!

Garcés. Don't be a fool staring at that pocket gladiator. The brute has no soul.

Paco. Garcés, don't preach. Life is no old morality.

Garcés. No, this is art… When we arrived, not even a beggar turned to look.

Paco. What sauce will you have? Mayonnaise?

Garcés. Mayonnaise or… Bordelaise… [Yawns.

Campos, Reguera, Pimentón, Polito, and the Marquis of Torrelodones enter, surrounded by a crowd of hangers-on.

Campos. [Bowing to the people] Thank you! To-morrow in the arena! Thank you, gentlemen. Adios!…

Pimentón. Make room, boys.

Teodoro. Hello, Polito.

Polito. Hello! Together again, eh? The combination?

Guillermo. We are waiting for the music.

Polito. Won't you join us? Gentlemen, allow me to present my friends. [To Campos] There is no need to present you.

Teodoro. Everybody knows Campos.

Polito. Two inseparable companions—Don Teodoro Andújar and Don Guillermo Juncales, the Don Juan and Don Luis of Moraleda.

Teodoro. This Polito!

Guillermo. You must not libel us before these strangers.

Polito. The Marquis of Torrelodones; Señor Reguera, a great lover of sport, who comes from Madrid especially to see Campos wipe out the impression he left here two years ago.

Campos. You are joking, Don Leopoldo.

Reguera. I should be sorry if he was not.

Campos. Pay no attention to him.

Reguera. We shall have fine sport this year.

Teodoro. Won't you take something? A cigar? [Offering Campos a cigar

Reguera. He doesn't smoke.

Polito. No, he doesn't smoke. It is bad for him.

Campos. I don't smoke.

Damian. Well, what will it be?

Teodoro. What will you have? [To Campos] A drink?

Reguera. He doesn't drink.

Polito. No, he doesn't drink.

Campos. I don't drink. You might bring me something mild.

Polito. Something mild? [To Reguera] What do you say to something mild? Will it hurt him?

Reguera. Something mild? What do you think?

Polito. I wonder.

Campos. I am in your hands, gentlemen.

Damian. We have lemon, sarsaparilla, fresh currant…

Reguera. How about a little fresh currant?

Polito. But at the normal temperature, without ice.

Teodoro. You are in the hands of your friends.

Polito. Beer and lime for us. And you, Marquis?

Marquis. The same.

Pimentón. Bring me a glass of rose-water.

Teodoro. [To Guillermo] Epicures, these bull-fighters. Currant, rose…

Reguera. We shall have good bulls this year.

Teodoro. A novelty in the plaza.

Campos. From the herd of the Marquis here present.

Guillermo. But hereafter?…

Reguera. He comes with his eyes open to see the corrida.

Marquis. Oh, we all do that!

Pimentón. What do you think of the little spotted fellow? I noticed you looking him over.

Reguera. I'd like to see you get after him.

Pimentón. The Señor Marquis knows what I can do. I am a good picador, eh, Señor Marquis? I do well by my friends. You have no reason to complain.

Marquis. No.

Pimentón. Devil of a time we had with those bulls last year, pushing the horses up to them from behind, and then holding the damn beasts with one hand while we stuck the prod into them with the other. What more do you want? I know this isn't the same herd, but it belongs to the Señor Marquis. Well, what is there in it? When you want to make a herd look good, you know what you've got to do.

Reguera. And we know what you do.

Campos. Yes, and that will do, too.

Pimentón. I was answering the Señor Marquis.

Teodoro. [To Polito] By the way, that reminds me; is it nothing but bulls in these days of fiesta? How about the seven suits and twenty-two ties you promised to show us? What does Esperanza say? How goes your affair with the lady?

Polito. The same as ever. The mother receives me very well, the father neither well nor ill, keeping an eye on the state of my bank-account, which he knows better than I do; but the girl cannot bear the sight of me even in a picture.

Teodoro. Is it true that she is in love with Don Manolito?

Polito. Daft over him entirely. And since the Governor's wife has set herself to promote the match——

Teodoro. Then you don't believe what they say about her and…

Polito. I believe that there exist between the Governor's wife and Don Manolito merely relations of—interest.

Campos. Don Rosendo's shop is closed.

Reguera. Do you need anything?

Campos. Only some white ties. Joseliyo left mine out of my grip. He'll be forgetting my dinner-coat next.

Polito. Oh! We can fix you up.

The church-bells ring.

Guillermo. The service is over. In a moment the promenade will begin and we shall have music. Is this your first visit to Moraleda?

Marquis. My first, yes. I find the place interesting, historically.

Reguera. I was here once before with Rafael at another corrida.

Marquis. You devote yourself to the fashionable matador.

Reguera. Well, one has got to go somewhere.

Don Basilio enters with Jimena and Belisa.

Jimena. Did you expect us to stand and wait for the rest of the afternoon?

Belisa. You gave us a terrible fright.

Basilio. But, my dears, didn't I tell you that His Reverence had sent for me to come to the sacristy? He wished to consult me about a matter of grave importance—the restoration of the tomb of the Giráldez family.

Jimena. And all the while we were running about the altar, without being able to locate you anywhere!

Belisa. Afraid that something had happened to you.

Jimena. Without daring to go home in such a crowd for fear of what people would think.

Basilio. Why, what would people think?

Belisa. Don't deceive yourself. The very last thing they would think would be that we were looking for you.

Jimena. You gave us such a shock!

Belisa. My nerves are all on edge.

Jimena. Thank heaven! I caught myself… I can control myself now, but in a week the reaction will be terrible!

Basilio. But, my dears, it was nothing. You are unreasonable. Bah! You draw too much on your imaginations. Shall we sit down?

Belisa. No, let us take a turn through the plaza; we can rest later. We are ahead of the crowd.

Teodoro. [Bowing] Good morning, Don Basilio. Señoritas, good morning

Don Basilio and his daughters bow and pass out.

Guillermo. The rector of the university and his daughters, Jimena and Belisa.

Campos. Are those names or jokes?

Teodoro. They are no jokes. We call them Poetry and Rhetoric; the father afflicts the community with them both.

Polito. They are thinking of marriage. They get no rest during the feria, when there are strangers in town.

Campos. Whom have we here? A magnificent woman!

Teodoro. Most extraordinary! The Governor's wife.

Marquis. Yes, Josefina, and my daughter with her.

Polito. And Esperanza Remolinos.

Campos. Do you mean to tell me that woman is only a governor's wife? Why then do we have empires?

Josefina, the Marchioness of Torrelodones, Doña O, Esperanza, Don Baldomero and Manolo enter.

Josefina. Look, Carmen, we are among friends. This is a reception! [The men rise and bow] How do you do?

Teodoro. [To Campos] How is that for a corrida?

Pimentón. A whole herd in herself!

Marquis. Are you on your way from the cathedral? How was the service?

Marchioness of Torrelodones. Divine! Everybody was there.

Josefina. It was simply suffocating.

Doña O. You ought to have heard His Reverence. What a sermon!

Baldomero. It wasn't a sermon, it was a sensible discourse. How did you like it, Josefina?

Josefina. Splendidly! I agreed with it in everything.

Doña O. I am so glad to hear you say so. Now it will be your duty to help us persuade your husband to stand with us and the decent people in the community upon the side of order and right.

Josefina. Yes, that is true. But men do have their ideas—at least they have what they call their ideas. They have obligations. Santiago is not able to do whatever he pleases.

Baldomero. With us upon his side he will be able to do whatever he pleases. He can afford to snap his fingers at the government. The respectable element of Moraleda is solidly with us.

Manolo. [Aside] I had better change the subject. [Aloud] Josefina almost fainted in the cathedral.

Josefina. Oh, I had a dreadful quarter of an hour! Every eye was fixed upon me.

Doña O. You must have had a dreadful quarter of an hour.

Baldomero. What do you say to a stroll?

Doña O. No, indeed; I am too tired. Let us sit down here for a moment—that is, if you don't mind? [To Josefina.

Josefina. Certainly not. [They seat themselves at a table.

Baldomero. We shall rejoin you presently. My dear Marquis, what do you say to a stroll? After mass, the promenade is superb.

The Marquis and Don Baldomero go off to stroll.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. [To Campos] I have picked the little mottled one for you; I felt certain that you would be pleased. Have you had time to look them over?

Reguera. He'll try to make the best of it.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. Leave it to me. You are going to create such a sensation this year that hereafter you will never want to kill any bulls but papa's.

Polito. [To Reguera] The Marchioness knows.

Reguera. I agree with her.

Campos. I shall wear your cloak. I never intend to appear in it unless you are present.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. Tell me, really, do you like it?

Campos. Do I?

Marchioness of Torrelodones. I made it myself; I did all the embroidery.

Campos. I shall keep it to be buried in.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. Heavens! Don't speak of such a thing! I want you to live and to kill many bulls.

Reguera. [To Polito] Bulls of papa's.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. Naturally, people here are a little suspicious after that affair two years ago. You have very few admirers. But I get in a good word whenever I have an opportunity.

Campos. So long as you are there, I don't care if they turn the whole herd loose in the plaza.

Polito. The public admires toreros who get hurt.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. For heaven's sake, don't you think of such a thing—no matter what they admire.

Reguera. No, better not. You must deny yourself.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. Really, you must.

Esperanza. [To Manolo] I'll tell you later. Mamma is looking, and you know what that means.

Manolo. Aren't you coming to the Palace this evening to see the fireworks?

Esperanza. I hope so. Be careful! I don't want to displease mamma.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. [Laughing loudly] It seems to me I have heard that story before.

Doña O. [To Josefina] What do you think of a woman who spends all her time flirting with a bull-fighter? She forgets she is not in Madrid, where everything goes.

Josefina. But what can we do?

Doña O. She ought to remember with whom she is and behave accordingly.

Manolo. [To Teodoro and Guillermo] Won't you take something.? It was terribly hot in the cathedral.

Teodoro. Did His Reverence have much to say?

Manolo. Yes, he was very eloquent.

Guillermo. We were discussing bulls and the Marquis's daughter.

Pimentón. Antonio don't know what to do—take it from me! The poor fellow is done for. And he won't listen to any talk. Why, he can't even sign a paper unless the Marquis's bulls are scratched all over it! And what bulls! Just to show you: last year a shower came up at Salamanca; there was a puddle in the middle of the ring. The bull ran out, the people yelled—and the bull stuck his nose in the puddle. [All laugh.

The Marquis and Don Baldomero re-enter.

Baldomero. My dear Marquis, it is the old story. The province is rich, its resources are inexhaustible; but everything here is subordinated to Madrid. It is a calamity. This poor Santiago, with the best intentions in the world, can do nothing. Besides, between ourselves, his wife makes him ridiculous. Not that she is bad, but she is frivolous—educated in Madrid, and there you know everything is superficial. Ah! I beg your pardon; I forgot you were from Madrid.

Marquis. You will not find my daughter superficial; she has been brought up in the English fashion, with plenty of physical exercise and languages. She can keep books. Her training has been practical. When I tell you that she manages the bulls, you can judge for yourself. And she handles the men, too. Yes, sir! They are all mad over her. So are the toreros.

Jimena, Belisa and Don Basilio re-enter with the Marchioness of Villaquejido and Teresa.

Basilio. Apparently everybody has anticipated us.

Doña O. My dear Marchioness! And Teresita! This is a great pleasure. [Greetings and kisses] Do sit down.

Esperanza. Sit by me, Jimena. Here is a chair, Belisa.

Marchioness of Villaquejido. And I shall sit by Josefina. We must conspire together, eh, Josefina? And with whom better? Now don't denounce me to your poor husband! I have not been in to see you since the beginning of the week. You have guests in the house, and I know what that means.

Josefina. Yes, the Marquis and his daughter. I want you to meet them.

Doña O. If she ever gets through with that Campos.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. Polito! You know everybody. Who are those women who just arrived?

Polito. The Rector's daughters.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. Poetry and Rhetoric? I know them; I mean the others.

Polito. Oh! The Marchioness of Villaquejido and her daughter, Teresita.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. The girl who is going to be a nun?

Polito. Her mother intends her to be one, and so as to fortify her against temptation, she is taking her about now to show her life at first hand before she shuts her up in the cloister.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. An opportunity for them both. Under the pretext of bidding farewell to the world, they contrive to cut a few capers.

Campos. A sort of combination benefit and farewell.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. I'd better leave you for a moment; I must speak to the ladies. They are beginning to whisper. If I don't look out they will say next that I run after the men. Just a moment, Campos…

Reguera. Don't you mind what they say.

Campos. Do you know how this is likely to end? That girl will get my name into the papers.

Esperanza. Did you go very far?

Jimena. Oh, there was such a crowd, we couldn't make any progress at all!

Belisa. For the present we gave up all hope.

Jimena. It certainly did look hopeless to me.

Belisa. There are very few strangers in town this year.

Jimena. The men here are so backward! All they think of is bulls. Look at Polito, look at Manuel. Why, they can't even get up courage to take the first step!

Esperanza. Do you know, I could have had them both?

Jimena. That is easy to say.

Marchioness of Torrelodones. [To Teresa] When do you enter the convent?

Teresa. Mother is anxious for me to see the world first. I don't intend to be a saint through ignorance, as says Santa Teresa. I want to know life. As it was written of Saint Francis: "Among sinners he seemed to be one."

Marchioness of Torrelodones. How familiar you are with the lives of the saints!

Teresa. Oh, I know them backward! But you ought to see me dance sevillanas.

Marchioness of Villaquejido. Don Baldomero, Don Basilio, listen to me. I call you all to witness. Josefina promises us solemnly that she will do everything in her power to prevent her husband from consenting to the performance of this objectionable play.

All. Bravo! Bravo!

Josefina. I will do my best. But Santiago, perhaps, may have something to say.

Doña O. Then appeal to his conscience. That should be our last resort. Vice cannot be suffered to prevail in Moraleda.

Baldomero. We cannot fail if we stand together.

Teodoro. [To Manolo] A conspiracy.

Manolo. So I see.

Guillermo. And what do you say as secretary? Shall we have "Obscurantismo"? How about the Governor?

Manolo. He awaits instructions from Madrid.

Teodoro. But man, a government that pretends to be liberal!

Manolo. There might be trouble; you know these people.

Guillermo. Some actors were just here from the company.

Teodoro. With their manager. He seemed to know you.

Manolo. To know me?

Teodoro. Yes. He is from Madrid.

Guillermo. You must have been pretty intimate, for he is relying upon your influence.

Manolo. Do you remember his name?

Teodoro. No, but he is lunching in the café—in the window. Do you see the lady's hat? You can see him…

Manolo. I'll take a look when I get a chance. I can't imagine. A manager from Madrid?…

Teodoro [To Don Guillermo] Now for the surprise.

Guillermo. Look innocent.

Teodoro. Yes. I say. Polito… no, it's a secret…

The band begins to play.

Doña O. Agreed! Then it is all arranged.

Marchioness of Villaquejido. What a surprise this will be for His Reverence!

Baldomero. It is a triumph! Bravo, Josefina! You are a woman of courage.

Doña O. The true Christian woman!

Basilio. Our Joan of Arc!

Paco. [Discovering Manolo] Ah! Manolo!

Manolo. Paco!

Menéndez. [Jumping up] Your brother?

Paco. Embrace me!

He tries to climb through the window.

Manolo. [Holding him back and endeavoring to force him down] No, no! Wait! They might see us. Later… You don't know who these people are.

Great animation. All talk at the same time.

Curtain