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Fuenteovejuna
A Dual-Language Book
By Lope de Vega, STANLEY APPELBAUM Dover Publications, Inc.
Copyright © 2002 Dover Publications, Inc.
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-486-12052-2
CHAPTER 1
Acto primero
Salen el COMENDADOR, FLORES y ORTUÑO, criados.
Com.:: ¿Sabe el maestre que estoy en la villa?
Flo.: Ya lo sabe.
Ort.: Está, con la edad, mas grave.
Com.:: ¿Y sabe también que soy Fernán Gómez de Guzmán?
Flo.: ES muchacho, no te asombre.
Com.: Cuando no sepa mi nombre, ¿no le sobra el que me dan de comendador mayor?
Ort.: NO falta quien le aconseje que de ser cortés se aleje.
Com.: Conquistará poco amor. Es Have la cortesía para abrir la voluntad, y para la enemistad la necia descortesía.
Ort.: Si supiese un descortés cómo lo aborrecen todos, y querrían de mil modos poner la boca a sus pies, antes que serlo ninguno, se dejaría morir.
Flo.: ¡Qué cansado es de sufrir! ¡Qué áspero y qué importuno! Llaman la descortesía necedad en los iguales, porque es entre desiguales linaje de tiranía. Aquí no te toca nada: que un muchacho aún no ha llegado a saber qué es ser amado.
Com.:: La obligation de la espada que le ciñó el mismo día que la cruz de Calatrava le cubrió el pecho, bastaba para aprender cortesía.
Flo.: Si te han puesto mal con él, presto le conocerás.
Ort.: Vuélvete, si en duda estás.
Com.:: Quiero ver lo que hay en él.
Sale el MAESTRE DE CALATRAVA, y acompañamiento.
Mae.: Perdonad, por vida mía, Fernán Gómez de Guzman, que agora nueva me dan que en la villa estáis.
Com.:: Tenía muy justa queja de vos; que el amor y la crianza me daban más confianza, por ser, cual somos los dos, vos, maestre en Calatrava, yo, vuestro comendador y muy vuestro servidor.
Mae.: Seguro, Fernando, estaba de vuestra buena venida. Quiero volveros a dar los brazos.
Com.:: Debéisme honrar, que he puesto por vos la vida entre diferencias tantas, hasta suplir vuestra edad el pontífice.
Mae.: Es verdad. Y por las señales santas que a los dos cruzan el pecho, que os lo pago en estimaros, y, como a mi padre, honraros.
Com.:: De vos estoy satisfecho.
Mae.: ¿Qué hay de guerra por allá?
Com.:: Estad atento, y sabréis la obligatión que tenéis.
Mae.: Decid, que ya lo estoy, ya.
Com.:: Gran maestre don Rodrigo Téllez Girón, que a tan alto lugar os trajo el valor de aquel vuestro padre claro, que, de ocho años, en vos renunció su maestrazgo, que después por mas seguro juraron y confirmaron reyes y comendadores, dando el pontífice santo Pío segundo sus bulas, y después las suyas Paulo, para que don Juan Pacheco, gran maestre de Santiago, fuese vuestro coadjutor; ya que es muerto, y que os han dado el gobierno sólo a vos, aunque de tan pocos años, advertid que es honra vuestra seguir en aqueste caso la parte de vuestros deudos, porque muerto Enrique cuarto, quieren que al rey don Alonso de Portugal, que ha heredado, por su mujer, a Castilla, obedezcan sus vasallos; que aunque pretende lo mismo, por Isabel, don Fernando, gran príncipe de Aragón, no con derecho tan claro a vuestros deudos, que, en fin, no presumen que hay engaño en la sucesión de Juana, a quien vuestro primo hermano tiene agora en su poder. Y así, vengo a aconsejaros que juntéis los caballeros de Calatrava en Almagro, y a Ciudad Real toméis, que divide como paso a Andalucía y Castilla, para mirarlos a entrambos. Poca gente es menester, porque tiene por soldados solamente sus vecinos y algunos pocos hidalgos, que defienden a Isabel y llaman rey a Fernando. Sera bien que deis asombro, Rodrigo, aunque niño, a cuantos dicen que es grande esa cruz para vuestros hombros flacos. Mirad los condes de Urueña, de quien venís, que mostrando os están desde la fama los laureles que ganaron; los marqueses de Villena, y otros capitanes, tantos, que las alas de la fama apenas pueden llevarlos. Sacad esa blanca espada, que habéis de hacer, peleando, tan roja como la cruz; porque no podré llamaros maestre de la cruz roja que tenéis al pecho, en tanto que tenéis la blanca espada; que una al pecho y otra al lado, entrambas han de ser rojas; y vos, Girón soberano, capa del templo inmortal de vuestros claros pasados.
Mae.: Fernán Gómez, estad cierto que en esta parcialidad, porque veo que es verdad, con mis deudos me concierto. Y si importa, como paso a Ciudad Real, mi intento, veréis que como violento rayo sus muros abraso. No porque es muerto mi tío, piensen de mis pocos años los propios y los extraños que murió con él mi brío. Sacaré la blanca espada, para que quede su luz de la color de la cruz, de roja sangre bañada. Vos, ¿adonde residís tenéis algunos soldados?
Com.:: POCOS, pero mis criados; que si de ellos os servís, pelearán como leones. Ya veis que en Fuenteovejuna hay gente humilde, y alguna no enseñada en escuadrones, sino en campos y labranzas.
Mae.: ¿Allí residís?
Com.:: Allí de mi encomienda escogí casa, entre aquestas mudanzas.
Mae.: Vuestra gente se registre.
Com.:: Que no quedará vasallo.
Mae.: Hoy me veréis a caballo poner la lanza en el ristre.
Vanse, y salen Pascuala y Laurencia.
Lau.: Mas ¡que nunca acá volviera!
Pas.: Pues a la he que pensé que cuando te lo conté, mas pesadumbre te diera.
Lau.: ¡Plega al cielo que jamás le vea en Fuenteovejuna!
Pas.: YO, Laurencia, he visto alguna tan brava, y pienso que más, y tenía el corazón brando como una manteca.
Lau.: Pues ¿hay encina tan seca como esta mi conditión?
Pas.: ¡Anda ya! Que nadie diga: de esta agua no beberé.
Lau.: ¡Voto al sol que lo diré, aunque el mundo me desdiga!
¿A qué efeto fuera bueno querer a Fernando yo?
¿Casárame con el?
Pas.: No.
Lau.: Luego la infamia condeno. ¡Cuántas mozas en la villa, del comendador fiadas, andan ya descalabradas!
Pas.: Tendré yo por maravilla que te escapes de su mano.
Lau.: Pues en vano es lo que ves, porque ha que me sigue un mes, y todo, Pascuala, en vano. Aquel Flores, su alcahuete, y Ortuño, aquel socarrón, me mostraron un jubón, una sarta y un copete; dijéronme tantas cosas de Fernando, su señor, que me pusieron temor; mas no serán poderosas para contrastar mi pecho.
Pas.: ¿Dónde te hablaron?
Lau.: Allá en el arroyo, y habrá seis días.
Pas.: Y yo sospecho que te han de engañar, Laurencia.
Lau.: ¿A mí?
Pas.: Que no, sino al cura.
Lau.: Soy, aunque polla, muy dura yo para su reverencia. Pardiez, más precio poner, Pascuala, de madrugada, un pedazo de lunada al huego para comer, con tanto zalacatón de una rosca que yo amaso, y hurtar a mi madre un vaso del pegado canjilón; y más precio al mediodía ver la vaca entre las coles, haciendo mil caracoles con espumosa armonía; y concertar, si el camino me ha llegado a causar pena, casar una berenjena con otro tanto tocino; y después un pasatarde, mientras la cena se aliña, de una cuerda de mi viña, que Dios de pedrisco guarde; y cenar un salpicón con su aceite y su pimienta, y irme a la cama contenta, y al «inducas tentación» rezalle mis devociones; que cuantas raposerías, con su amor y sus porfías, tienen estos bellacones; porque todo su cuidado, después de darnos disgusto, es anochecer con gusto y amanecer con enfado.
Pas.: Tienes, Laurencia, razón; que en dejando de querer, mas ingratos suelen ser que al villano el gorrión. En el invierno, que el frío tiene los campos helados, decienden de los tejados, diciéndole «tio, tio», hasta llegar a comer las migajas de la mesa; mas luego que el frío cesa y el campo ven florecer, no bajan diciendo «tío», del beneficio olvidados, mas saltando en los tejados, dicen: «judío, judío». Pues tales los hombres son: cuando nos han menester, somos su vida, su ser, su alma, su corazón; pero, pasadas las ascuas, las tías somos judías, y en vez de llamarnos tías, anda el nombre de las pascuas.
Act One
Enter the COMMANDER, with his servants FLORES and ORTUÑO.
Com.:: Does the Master know that I am in the city?
Flo.: By now he knows.
Ort.: He's becoming more mature as he gets older.
Com.:: And does he also know that I am Fernán Gómez de Guzman?
Flo.: He's just a boy, don't let it surprise you.
Com.:: Even if he doesn't know my name, isn't he more than satisfied with my title of Chief Commander?
Ort.: There's no lack of people who advise him to refrain from being courteous.
Com.:: He'll win little love that way. Courtesy is the key to gaining good will, just as foolish discourtesy is the key to enmity.
Ort.: If a discourteous man knew how everyone loathes him and would like in a thousand ways to defame his character viciously, rather than behave that way he'd see himself die.
Flo.: HOW tiresome it is to put up with! How unpleasant and annoying! Discourtesy is called foolishness when the parties are of equal rank, because between those of different ranks it is a kind of tyranny. In this case, it is no insult to you, because a boy has not yet come to know what it means to be loved.
Com.:: The obligation imposed by the sword he girded on on the same day that the Cross of Calatrava covered his breast, should have been enough to teach him courtesy.
Flo.: If people have alienated him from you, you'll soon learn when you meet him.
Ort.: GO back home if you're in doubt.
Com.:: I want to see what there is in him.
Enter the MASTER OF CALATRAVA, with his retinue.
Mas.: Upon my life, forgive me, Fernán Gómez de Guzmán, because only now have I been informed that you were in the city.
Com.:: I had a very just complaint about you; because I had more confidence in your love and upbringing, we two being what we are, you the Master of Calatrava, and I your chief commander and your humble servant.
Mas.: Fernando, I was unaware of your welcome arrival. I wish to offer you my open arms again.
Com.:: You ought to honor me, because I have risked my life for you in the midst of all these conflicts, even to the point of persuading the Pope to waive the minimum-age rule for your appointment.
Mas.: That's true. And I swear by the sacred symbol of the Cross on your breast and mine that I repay you for it by esteeming you and honoring you like a father.
Com.:: I am contented with you.
Mas.: How is the war going in those parts?
Com.:: Be attentive, and you will learn what obligations you have.
Mas.: Speak, because now I am attentive.
Com.:: Grand Master Don Rodrigo Téllez Girón, you who have been borne to this exalted station by the valor of that famous father of yours who, when you were eight, renounced the position of Master in your favor, a position that was later made more secure by the oaths and confirmations of kings and commanders, the Holy Father Pius II granting his papal bulls, and Paul II his own afterwards, provided that Don Juan Pacheco, Grand Master of Santiago, would be your assistant: now that he is dead, and you have been given the reins of government personally, despite your youth, understand that your honor demands that in this situation you adhere to your kinsmen's party; because, Enrique IV having died, they want King Alfonso of Portugal, who has inherited Castile through his wife, to be obeyed by his vassals; although the same claim is made, through Isabel, by Don Fernando, the great prince of Aragon, but not with so clear a right in the eyes of your kinsmen, who, in short, find no deception in the succession of Juana, whom your cousin now has in his power. And so, I have come to advise you to assemble the Knights of Calatrava at Almagro and capture Ciudad Real, which is like a mountain pass between Andalusia and Castile, facing both kingdoms. Not many combatants are needed, because the city's soldiers consist merely of its own inhabitants and a few lesser noblemen who defend Isabel and call Fernando king. It will be a good thing, Rodrigo, though you are a mere boy, to strike awe in all those who say that that Cross is too big for your weak shoulders. Reflect on the counts of Urueña, from whom you are descended: they are showing you, secure in their fame, the laurels they once won; and on the marquesses of Villena and other great captains so numerous that the wings of fame can scarcely carry them. Draw your "white," untried sword, which, in battle, you must make as red as your Cross; because I won't be able to call you Master of the red Cross that you wear on your breast as long as your sword is still white; because, one of them on your breast and the other at your side, they must both be red; and you, excellent Girón, must be the protective cloak of the immortal temple of your illustrious ancestors.
Mas.: Fernán Gómez, rest assured that, in this party strife, since I see where the truth lies, I am on the side of my kinsmen. And, if my participation is necessary as a means to capture Ciudad Real, you will see me like a violent lightning flash burning its walls. Just because my uncle is dead, let no kinsman or stranger, in view of my youth, think that my vigor and spirit died with him. I shall draw my white sword, so that its gleam will be the same color as my Cross, once it is bathed in red blood. And you, in your residence do you have any soldiers?
Com.:: Not many, but they're my personal servants, so that, if you make use of them, they will fight like lions. For, you see, in Fuenteovejuna the people are of low rank, and some of them not trained for the battlefield, but for pastures and grain fields.
Mas.: Your residence is there?
Com.:: There, of all places in my domain, I elected to live, during these political ups-and-downs.
Mas.: Let your people be enrolled.
Com.:: None of my vassals will remain behind.
Mas.: Today you shall see me on horseback placing my lance at the ready.
The above exit. Enter Pascuala and Laurenciaxs.
Lau.: I wish he had never returned here!
Pas.: Well, by my faith, I thought that, when I told you about it, I'd be giving you greater distress.
Lau.: May it please heaven that I never see him in Fuenteovejuna!
Pas.: AS for me, Laurencia, I've seen girls who resisted love as much as you do, if not more so, but whose hearts were as soft as butter.
Lau.: But is there an oak tree as dried up as my nature is?
Pas.: Come, now! No one should ever say: "I won't drink that water."
Lau.: I swear that I will say it, even if the whole world contradicts me!
What would be the good of my loving Fernán Gómez? Could I ever marry him?
Pas.: No.
Lau.: Well, then, I condemn the dishonor. Look at all the girls in town who trusted the Commander's words and have now been hurt!
Pas.: I'll consider it a miracle if you escape his clutches.
Lau.: Well, then, what you see is an illusion, because he's been pursuing me for a month, and all in vain, Pascuala. That Flores, his pimp, and Ortuño, that sly fox, have offered me a bodice, a necklace, and a headdress; they told me so much about their master Fernando that they frightened me; but all the things they said won't have the power to overcome my feelings.
Pas.: Where did they speak to you?
Lau.: There by the stream, about six days ago.
Pas.: And I suspect that they'll fool you yet, Laurencia.
Lau.: Me?
PAS.: No—the parish priest!
Lau.: Though I'm still young, I'm very severe with regard to His Reverence. Goodness, Pascuala! I much prefer a piece of ham in the morning placed on the fire for breakfast, with a huge hunk of a bread roll that I've kneaded, and a glass of wine filched from my mother out of the caulked jug; and at noon I much prefer to watch the cow amid the cabbage as she cuts a thousand capers with her milk foaming inside her as an accompaniment; and—if my going to and fro has happened to tire me out— I prefer to arrange the marriage of an eggplant with an equal amount of bacon; and, later on, a snack, while supper is being prepared, off a bunch of my own grapes hanging from the ceiling (may God protect the vines from hail!); and to sup on cold chopped meat with olive oil and peppers, and go to bed satisfied, and say my prayers to God: I prefer all this to all the foxy tricks that these rogues have, with their love and their persistence; because their entire concern, after they have done us wrong, is to go to bed with pleasure and get up the next morning with irritation.
Pas.: You're right, Laurencia; because, once they cease loving us, they're usually more ungrateful than the sparrows are to the peasants. In winter, when the cold keeps the fields frozen, they come down from the roofs, saying "Uncle, Uncle," and they even eat the bread crumbs off the table; but after the cold days are over and they see the field in blossom, they no longer come down saying "Uncle," but, forgetting the favors they have been given, they hop on the roofs saying "Jew, Jew." Well, that's the way men are: when they need us, we're their life, their being, their soul, their heart; but, when the glowing coals have died down, the former "aunts" become "Jewesses," and, instead of calling us "Aunt," they insult us.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Fuenteovejuna by Lope de Vega, STANLEY APPELBAUM. Copyright © 2002 Dover Publications, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of Dover Publications, Inc..
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