Cast List (in order of appearance)

Bridegroom

Mother of the Bridegroom

Neighbour

Mother-in-law of Leonardo

Wife of Leonardo

Leonardo

Young Girl

Maid to the Bride

Father of the Bride

Bride

Wedding Guests

Woodcutters

Moon

Death, as a Beggar-woman

Girls from the village

Women in mourning

Act I Scene 1

(A room painted yellow)

BRIDEGROOM: (entering) Mother.

MOTHER: What?

BRIDEGROOM: I’m off.

MOTHER: Where to?

BRIDEGROOM: To the vineyard (He makes as if to leave)

MOTHER: Wait.

BRIDEGROOM: What is it?

MOTHER: Your lunch, my son.

BRIDEGROOM: Never mind. I’ll eat grapes. Give me a knife.

MOTHER: And why?

BRIDEGROOM: To cut them

MOTHER: (muttering) Knives, knives…Curse them all, and the wretch who invented them…

BRIDEGROOM: Let’s change the subject.

MOTHER: And shotguns, and pistols, and little razors, and even hoes and winnowing hooks.

BRIDEGROOM: Fine.

MOTHER: Whatever can cut through a man’s body, a lovely man, in the flower of his life, who is off to the vines or the olives, because they are his, his family’s….

BRIDEGROOM: (Lowering his head) You’ve missed the point.

MOTHER: …and he doesn’t return. Or if he does return it’s so we can lay a palm leaf or a big plate of salt on him so the body won’t swell. I don’t know how you can carry a knife about you, or why I have these serpent’s teeth in my kitchen.

BRIDEGROOM: Are you done yet?

MOTHER: If I lived a hundred years I could speak of nothing else. First, your father, who brought me the scent of carnations, and enjoyed me three short years, and then, your brother…is it right, is it possible that so small a thing as a pistol or a knife can do for a man, a bull of a man? I’ll never be quiet. The months pass and pain still pricks my eyes, to the very roots of my hair.

BRIDEGROOM: Are we finished?

MOTHER: No. We are not finished. Can anyone give me back your father or your brother? And they talk about prison. What is prison? They still eat there, they smoke; they play their instruments! My dead push up the grass, silently turning to dust; two who were like flowers….the killers, in prison, coolly gazing at the mountains…

BRIDEGROOM: Do you want me to kill them?

MOTHER: No…if you want to know, it’s this…How can I not speak when you go through that door? It’s this…I don’t like you carrying a knife. It’s this…I wish you wouldn’t go to the fields.

BRIDEGROOM: (Laughing) Come now!

MOTHER: I wish you were a woman. You’d not go to the river now, and we would sit and sew.

BRIDEGROOM:  (Taking his mother’s arm and laughing) Mother, what if I took you with me to the vineyard?

MOTHER: What use is an old woman in a vineyard? Are you going to lay me down under the vines?

BRIDEGROOM: (Taking her in his arms) Old, so old, so very old.

MOTHER: Your father would take me along. He was of the true race. Good blood. Your grandfather left offspring everywhere. That’s what I love. Man, man, harvest, harvest.

BRIDEGROOM: And I, mother?

MOTHER: You, what?

BRIDEGROOM: Must I say it again?

MOTHER:  (Seriously) Ah!

BRIDEGROOM: You think it’s wrong?

MOTHER: No

BRIDEGROOM: Then…?

MOTHER: I just don’t know. Suddenly, like this, it always takes me by surprise. I know she’s a good girl. It’s true isn’t it? Well-behaved. Hard-working. She bakes her own bread, and sews her own skirts, yet I feel, when she’s named, as if I’d been struck on the forehead with a stone.

BRIDEGROOM: That’s foolish.

MOTHER: More than foolish. I’ll be left alone. I only have you left, and I’m sad you are leaving.

BRIDEGROOM: But you’ll come with us.

MOTHER: No. I can’t leave your father and brother here alone…I must go and see them every morning, and if I went away, likely one of the Felix’s would die, one of that family of killers, and they’d bury him beside them. And it must not be! That! It must not be! Because I’d dig them up with my nails and shatter them against the wall myself.

BRIDEGROOM: (Emphatically) Talk about something else.

MOTHER: Forgive me. (Pause) How long have you known her?

BRIDEGROOM: Three years. I can buy the vineyard now.

MOTHER: Three years. She had a fiancé, no?

BRIDEGROOM: I don’t know. I think not. A girl needs to take a good look at the man she marries.

MOTHER: Yes? I looked at no one. I looked at your father, and when they killed him I looked at the wall in front of me. One woman for one man, and that’s it!

BRIDEGROOM: You know my girl is good.

MOTHER: No doubt. But I don’t think I know who her mother was.

BRIDEGROOM: What does that matter?

MOTHER: (Gazing at him) Son.

BRIDEGROOM: What do you want?

MOTHER: It’s true! You’re right! When do you want me to ask them for her?

BRIDEGROOM:  (Happily) Is Sunday fine?

MOTHER: (Gravely) I’ll take her the studded earrings, they’re heirlooms, and you can buy for her…

BRIDEGROOM: You know best…

MOTHER: Buy her some embroidered silk stockings, and for yourself two suits…Three! You’re all I have!

BRIDEGROOM: I’m off. Tomorrow I’ll go see her.

MOTHER: Yes, yes; and then make me happy with six grandchildren, at the very least, now that your father’s no longer here...

BRIDEGROOM: The first one is for you.

MOTHER: Yes, but have girls. So we can embroider and sew and be tranquil.

BRIDEGROOM: I’m sure you’ll grow to like my bride.

MOTHER: I’ll like her. (She goes to kiss him and draws back) Go, you’re too big for kisses. Give them to your wife. (Pause.) Once she is yours.

BRIDEGROOM: I’m going.

MOTHER: Dig over the field near the mill, you’ve been neglecting.

BRIDEGROOM: It’s done!

MOTHER: Go with God. (The Bridegroom leaves. The mother remains seated her back to the door. A Neighbour dressed in dark clothes, wearing a headscarf, appears in the doorway.) Enter.

NEIGHBOUR: How are you?

MOTHER: As you see.

NEIGHBOUR: I was down at the shop and came to see you. We live so far apart….!

MOTHER: It’s twenty years since I’ve been to the top of the street.

NEIGHBOUR: You’re right.

MOTHER: You think so.

NEIGHBOUR: Things happen. Two days ago they brought my neighbour’s son home with both his arms mangled by the harvester. (She sits.)

MOTHER: Rafael?

NEIGHBOUR: Yes. And what will he do now? I often think your boy and my boy are better where they are, asleep, and at rest, and not exposed to being made useless.

MOTHER: Hush. All that’s just talk…there’s no consolation.

NEIGHBOUR: Ay!

MOTHER: Ay! (Pause)

NEIGHBOUR: (Sadly). And your son?

MOTHER: He just went out.

NEIGHBOUR: At last he’ll buy the vineyard!

MOTHER: He had luck.

NEIGHBOUR: Now he’ll marry.

MOTHER: (As though waking up and moving her chair closer to her neighbour’s.) Listen.

NEIGHBOUR: (Confidingly.) Tell me.

MOTHER: Do you know my son’s fiancée?

NEIGHBOUR: A good girl!

MOTHER: Yes, but…

NEIGHBOUR: But you can’t say anyone knows her well. She lives with her father, way off, miles from the nearest house. But she’s a good girl. Accustomed to solitude.

MOTHER: And her mother?

NEIGHBOUR: Oh I knew her. Beautiful. Her face shone like a saint’s; but she was not to my liking. She didn’t love her husband.

MOTHER:  (Loudly) Ah, the things people know!

NEIGHBOUR: Pardon me. I mean no offence; but it’s true. Now, there was no talk of whether she was a decent woman or not. There was nothing of that. She was proud.

MOTHER: Always the same!

NEIGHBOUR: Well, you asked me.

MOTHER: I wish no one knew anything about them, the living one or the dead one. That they were like two thistles, no one noticed, that pricked if anything came near.

NEIGHBOUR: You’re right. Your son is a catch.

MOTHER: He is. Worth taking care of. I heard that the girl had a fiancé a while back.

NEIGHBOUR: She was about fifteen. He was married two years ago, to a cousin of hers in fact. Nobody remembers the betrothal.

MOTHER: How come you remember, then?

NEIGHBOUR: You asked me…!

MOTHER: Everyone wants to know about what affects them. Who was the boy?

NEIGHBOUR: Leonardo.

MOTHER: Which Leonardo?

NEIGHBOUR: Leonardo…of the Felix family.

MOTHER: (Rising.) A Felix!

NEIGHBOUR: Woman, what do you hold Leonardo guilty of? He was barely eight at the time of the troubles.

MOTHER: It’s true…But I hear the name Felix (angrily) and that same Felix fills my mouth with mud (she spits), and I have to spit it out, spit it out, or kill them all.

NEIGHBOUR: Be calm. What good does that do?

MOTHER: Nothing. But…you understand.

NEIGHBOUR: Don’t stand in the way of your son’s happiness. Say nothing to him. You are old. I, too. You and I must be silent.

MOTHER: I’m to say nothing.

NEIGHBOUR: (Kissing her) Nothing.

MOTHER: (Calmly) Things…!

NEIGHBOUR: I’m off: soon my men will be back from the fields.

MOTHER: See what a hot day it is.

NEIGHBOUR: The lads carrying water to the reapers are burnt black with it. Farewell, my dear.

Farewell. (She walks towards stage left. Halfway across she stops and slowly blesses herself. )

Curtain

Act I Scene 2

(A room painted pink, full of copperware and flowers. In the centre a covered table. It is morning. Leonardo’s mother-in-law is cradling a child. His wife, opposite her, is sewing.)

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     A singing, child, a singing

                              about the great stallion,

                              who wouldn’t drink the water,

the water in its blackness,

in among the branches.

Where it finds the bridge,

it hangs there, singing.

Who knows what water is,

my child,

its tail waving,

through the dark green chambers?

WIFE: (Softly)         Sleep, my flower,

the stallion won’t drink.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     Sleep, my rose,

the stallion is crying.

His legs are wounded,

his mane is frozen,

in his eyes,

there’s a blade of silver.

They went to the river.

Ay, how they went!

Blood running,

quicker than water.

WIFE:                       Sleep, my flower,

the stallion won’t drink.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     Sleep, my rose,

the stallion is crying.

WIFE:                       It would not touch

the wet shore,

his burning muzzle,

silvered with flies.

He would only neigh,

to the harsh mountains,

a weight of river, dead,

against his throat.

Ay, proud stallion

that would not drink the water!

Ay, pain of snowfall,

stallion of daybreak!

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     Do not come here! Wait,

close the window,

with branches of dream,

and dreams of branches.

WIFE:                      My child is sleeping.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     My child is silent.

WIFE:                      Stallion, my child

has a soft pillow.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     Steel for his cradle.

WIFE:                       Lace for his covers.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     A singing, child, a singing.

WIFE:                       Ay, proud stallion

that wouldn’t drink the water!

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     Don’t come here! Don’t enter!

Go up to the mountain

through the sombre valley,

to where the wild mare is.

WIFE: (Gazing)       My child is sleeping.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     My child is resting.

WIFE: (Softly)         Sleep, my flower,

the stallion won’t drink.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: (Rising, and very softly)

Sleep, my rose,

the stallion is crying.

(They take the child into another room. Leonardo enters.)

LEONARDO: And the child?

WIFE: Asleep.

LEONARDO: He has not been well. He cried all night.

WIFE: (Cheerfully) He’s as fresh as a rose today. And you? Did you go to the blacksmith’s?

LEONARDO: I’ve just come from there. I’ve been re-shoeing that horse for more than two months, and he’s always casting one. They must catch on the stones.

WIFE: Could it be you ride him too hard?

LEONARDO: No. I barely ride him.

WIFE: Yesterday the neighbours said you were seen at the edge of the plain.

LEONARDO: Who said that?

WIFE: The women picking capers. It really surprised me. Was it you?

LEONARDO: No. What would I be doing in that wasteland?

WIFE: That’s what I said. But the horse was soaked in sweat.

LEONARDO: You saw him?

WIFE: No. My mother did.

LEONARDO: Is she with the child?

WIFE: Yes. Would you like a drink of lemonade?

LEONARDO: With ice-cold water.

WIFE: You weren’t home for lunch...!

LEONARDO: I was at the corn-factor’s, weighing the wheat. There’s always a delay.

WIFE:  (Preparing the drink, attentively) And the price was good?

LEONARDO: It was fair.

WIFE: I could do with a new dress; and the baby a cap with ribbons.

LEONARDO: (Rising) I’ll go and look at him.

WIFE: Be careful, he’s asleep.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:  (Entering) So who’s been racing that horse? It’s down there, lathered, its eyes rolling in its head, as if it’s come from the ends of the earth.

LEONARDO: (Sourly) Me.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:  He’s yours; forgive me.

WIFE: (Timidly) He was having the wheat weighed.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: He can go back there, as far as I’m concerned. (She sits.)

(Pause)

WIFE: Your drink. Is it cold enough?

LEONARDO: Yes.

WIFE: Have you heard my cousin’s getting engaged?

LEONARDO: When?

WIFE: Tomorrow. The marriage will be in a month. I hope they’ll invite us.

LEONARDO: (Gravely) I’m not sure.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: I don’t think the mother’s too satisfied with the marriage.

LEONARDO: And perhaps she’s right. The girl’s a worry.

WIFE:  I don’t like you both thinking ill of a good girl.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: But when he says so it’s because he knows her. Wasn’t she your girlfriend for three years or so? (Pointedly)

LEONARDO: But I finished with her. (To his wife.) Are you going to cry now? Stop that! (He pulls her hands from her face brusquely.) Let’s go and see the child. (They go out arm in arm.)

(A happy young girl appears. She enters running.)

GIRL: Señora.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: What is it?

GIRL: The bridegroom’s down at the shops, and he’s buying the best of all they have.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: He’s alone?

GIRL: No, with his mother. Very grave, very tall. (She imitates her.) But, what luxury!

GIRL: They’ve plenty of money.

GIRL: And they bought silk stockings! ...Ay, what stockings! Stockings girls dream about! You can see: a swallow here (Showing her ankle), a boat here (Pointing to her calf) and here, a rose. (Pointing to her thigh).

MOTHER-IN-LAW: Child!

GIRL: A rose with its pollen and stem! Ay! All in silk!

MOTHER-IN-LAW: They’ll unite two fine fortunes.

(Leonardo and his wife return.)

GIRL: I came to tell you what they’ve been buying.

LEONARDO: (Sharply) It doesn’t matter to us.

WIFE: Leave her alone.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: Leonardo, she didn’t deserve that.

GIRL: I’m sorry. (She exits, crying.)

MOTHER-IN-LAW: Why do you have to be so unpleasant to people?

LEONARDO: I didn’t ask for your opinion. (He sits down.)

MOTHER-IN-LAW: That’s fine.

(Pause)

WIFE: (To Leonardo) What’s wrong? What ideas are milling around inside that head of yours? Don’t push me off, so, knowing nothing…

LEONARDO: Leave me alone.

WIFE: No. I want you to look at me and tell me.

LEONARDO: I’m off. (He rises.)

WIFE: Where are you going?

LEONARDO: (Bitterly) Can’t you be quiet?

MOTHER-IN-LAW: (Energetically, to her daughter) Hush! (Leonardo exits) The child! (She goes out and returns with him in her arms. The wife remains standing…motionless.)

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     His legs are wounded,

his mane is frozen,

in his eyes,

there’s a blade of silver.

They went to the river.

Ay, how they went!

Blood running,

quicker than water.

WIFE:   (Turning about slowly as if dreaming.)        

Sleep, my flower,

the stallion’s not drinking.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     Sleep, my rose,

the stallion is crying.

WIFE:                                 A singing, child, a singing.

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     Ay! The great stallion,

                              who wouldn’t drink the water!

WIFE:   (Dramatically)

Don’t come here! Don’t enter!

Go up to the mountain!

Ay, pain of snowfall

stallion of daybreak!

MOTHER-IN-LAW: (Weeping)       

My child is sleeping…

WIFE:  (Weeping, and slowly drawing closer.)         

My child is resting…

MOTHER-IN-LAW:     Sleep, my flower,

the stallion won’t drink.

WIFE: (Weeping and leaning over the table.)

Sleep, my rose,

the stallion is crying.

Curtain

Act I Scene 3
 

(Interior of the cave-house where the Bride lives. At the back, a cross of large pink flowers. The doors, curved archways, with lace hangings with pink ties. For the walls, a hard white material, curved fans, blue vases and small mirrors.)

MAID: Enter… (Very affable, full of hypocritical humility. The Bridegroom and his Mother enter. The Mother is wearing plain black, with a lace mantilla. The Bridegroom wears black corduroy with a large gold chain.)

Would you like to sit? They’ll be here in a moment. (She goes out. The mother and son remain seated, motionless as statues. A long pause.)

MOTHER: Did you bring your watch?

BRIDEGROOM: Yes. (He takes it out and gazes at it.)

MOTHER: We must leave in good time. What a distance these people live!

BRIDEGROOM:  But their land is good.

MOTHER: Good; but too remote. A four hour journey, and not a house or a tree.

BRIDEGROOM: These are the dry plains.

MOTHER: Your father would have covered it with trees.

BRIDEGROOM:  Without water?

MOTHER: He’d have found some. The three years he was married to me, he planted ten cherry-trees. (Recalling.) The three walnut-trees by the mill, a whole vineyard, and an orpine, the one they call the Jupiter plant that has purple leaves, which dried up. (Pause)

BRIDEGROOM: (Referring to the Bride.) She must be getting ready.

(The Bride’s father enters. He is an old man, with gleaming white hair. His head is slightly bowed. The Mother and the Bridegroom stand and shake hands with him silently.)

FATHER: A long journey?

MOTHER: Four hours. (They all sit.)

FATHER: You must have come the long way round.

MOTHER: I’m too old now to come through the fields by the river.

BRIDEGROOM: It makes her ill. (Pause)

FATHER: A fine crop of grass this year.

BRIDEGROOM: Fine indeed.

FATHER: In my day, this land wouldn’t yield grass. We had to labour over it and shed tears to get anything from it.

MOTHER: It does now. But don’t worry. I’ve not come to ask for anything.

FATHER: (Smiling.) You’re richer than I. Vineyards are worth a fortune. Each plant is like a silver coin. What I feel is that our fields….you understand….are too far apart. I like everything joined together. There’s a thorn in my heart, a little plot that’s a reproach in the middle of my fields, one that they won’t sell me for all the gold in the world.

BRIDEGROOM: That’s always the way.

FATHER: If we could harness twenty pair of oxen to drag your vineyards over here and lay them on a slope. What happiness…!

MOTHER: Why is that?

FATHER: What’s mine is hers, and what’s yours is his. That’s why. To see it all joined together! Because to join things is beautiful!

BRIDEGROOM: It would be less work.

MOTHER: When I’m dead, you can sell, and buy over here.

FATHER: Sell! Sell! Bah! Buy, buy everything. If I’d had sons, I’d have bought everything from the mountains to the river. Because it’s not such good land, but strong arms could make it good, and nobody comes by to steal your crops, and you can sleep peacefully. (Pause.)

MOTHER: You know why I’ve come.

FATHER: Yes.

MOTHER: Well?

FATHER: It seems fine to me. They’ve talked it over.

MOTHER: My son is fit and able.

FATHER: My daughter the same.

MOTHER: My son is handsome. He has never known a woman. His honour is brighter than a white sheet in the sun.

FATHER: What can I say of my girl? She’s up at three with the morning star to make breakfast. Never speaks out; is as soft and gentle as wool; she embroiders all sorts of embroidery, and can cut a rope with her teeth.

MOTHER: God bless their house.

FATHER: May God bless it.

(The Maid appears with two trays. One carrying glasses, the other sweetmeats.)

MOTHER: (To the son) When do you want the wedding to be?

BRIDEGROOM: Next Thursday.

FATHER: The day when she’ll be just twenty-two.

MOTHER: Twenty-two! That would have been my eldest son’s age if he’d lived. He’d be alive, warm and vibrant as he was, if men had not invented knives.

FATHER: You shouldn’t dwell on it.

MOTHER: Every minute. Hand on heart.

FATHER: Thursday then. Is that right?

BRIDEGROOM: That’s right.

FATHER: We and the children will go to the church by car, as it’s a fair distance, and the rest by carts and on horseback.

MOTHER: Agreed.

(The Maid crosses the room.)

FATHER: Tell her she can come in now. (To the Mother) I’m sure you’ll like her.

(The Bride appears. Her hands are folded modestly and her head is bowed.)

MOTHER:  Come to me. Are you happy?

BRIDE: Yes, señora.

FATHER: You shouldn’t look so serious. After all in the end she will be a mother to you.

BRIDE: I am happy. Why I said so, is because I want to be married.

MOTHER: Naturally. (Taking her by the chin.) Look at me.

FATHER: She’s the image of my wife.

MOTHER: Yes? What lovely eyes! Do you know what marriage is, little one?

BRIDE: (Serious) I know.

MOTHER:  It’s a man, and children, and a two foot thick wall against all the rest.

BRIDEGROOM: Is anything more required?

MOTHER: No. How happy you’ll be! How happy!

BRIDE: I know my duty.

MOTHER: Here are some presents.

BRIDE: Thank you.

FATHER: You’ll take something?

MOTHER: Not for me. (To the son.) And you?

BRIDEGROOM: I will. (He eats a sweetmeat. The Bride also eats.)

FATHER:  (To the Bridegroom.) A glass of wine?

MOTHER: He never touches it.

FATHER: All the better!

(Pause. They are all standing.)

BRIDEGROOM: (To the Bride) I’ll come tomorrow.

BRIDE: At what time?

BRIDEGROOM: At five.

BRIDE: I’ll be waiting for you.

BRIDEGROOM: When I have to leave you I feel a great chill and a sort of knot in my throat.

BRIDE: When you’re my husband you won’t feel so.

BRIDEGROOM: That’s so.

MOTHER: We must go. The sun won’t wait. (To the Father) All agreed?

FATHER: Agreed.

MOTHER: (To the Maid) Farewell.

MAID: God go with you.

(The Mother kisses the Bride, and they prepare to leave in silence.)

MOTHER: (In the doorway) Goodbye, daughter. (The Bride answers with a wave of her hand.)

FATHER: I’ll see you out. (They leave.)

MAID: I’m longing to see the presents.

BRIDE: (Sharply) Leave them be.

MAID: Ay, child, show me!

BRIDE: I don’t wish to.

MAID: The stockings, at least. They say they’re embroidered silk, woman!

BRIDE: I said no!

MAID: For heaven’s sake. Oh, well. It seems you don’t want marriage gifts.

BRIDE: (Biting her hand, in pain.) Ay!

MAID: Child, what’s wrong? Do you think your reign is over? Don’t think sour thoughts. Where’s the need? None at all. Let’s see the presents. (She shakes the box.)

BRIDE: (Catching at her wrists.) Leave them alone.

MAID: Ay, woman!

BRIDE: Leave them, I said.

MAID: You’re stronger than a man.

BRIDE: Haven’t I done a man’s work? If only I were one!

MAID: Don’t talk like this.

BRIDE: Hush. We’ll speak of something else.

(The light fades from the scene. A long pause.)

MAID: Did you hear a horse in the night?

BRIDE: What time?

MAID: At three.

BRIDE: It must have been a horse that strayed from the herd.

MAID: No. It carried a rider.

BRIDE: How do you know?

MAID: Because I saw him. He stopped by your window. I was startled.

BRIDE: Was it my fiancé? He passes by at that hour sometimes.

MAID: No.

BRIDE: You saw him?

MAID: Yes.

BRIDE: Who was it?

MAID: It was Leonardo.

BRIDE: (Sharply) Liar! Liar! Liar! What would he come here for?

MAID: Wine.

BRIDE: Silence! Damn your tongue! (The sound of a horse is heard.)

MAID:  (At the window.) Look, Lean out. Was that him?

 BRIDE: It was!

The Curtain falls quickly.

Next Act