ALWAYS RIDICULOUS
A monologue from the
play by Jose
Echegaray
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from Poet Lore, Volume XXVII, Summer 1916, Number III. |
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TERESA: I thought I was going mad. It can't be true!
But it is. God! How hard and cruel I was to poor Vargas, how
deliberately cruel! Conscience, you must be satisfied--I'm alone
and I say Vargas and not Juan. Senor De Vargas--with all respect,
quite in good form. [Pause.] God! How restless I feel--I
was cruel! Cruel, disdainful, insolent. He was desperate--but
there was no reason. Suppose something happens to him tomorrow.
I can't think about it. If anything happens it will be my fault.
They were right--Juan lives without hope as I do. Tomorrow he
will get himself killed--he is going to--after what I've said--it's
certain. No--I don't want him to die. Is that wrong too? Well,
let it be wrong--I want him to defend himself--to live. Duty--duty--I've
done enough for duty. My duty now is to save him. He's a human
being like Eugenio--like my father. If I can save him with a
word why not say it? See him? No, not that. It's not possible.
I can't go and I wouldn't go if I could. He won't come--I could
swear he won't. But I could write to him--two lines--only two
lines--without giving him hope--hope is dead for both of us,
it can't exist. Just one word of pity--of love--a word of love
can do much. Oh! Why do I vacillate? I feel as if I were about
to commit a crime. I've turned coward in truth. [Sits at the
table.] "My dear Senor Don Juan de Vargas." [Writing.]
No that won't do. I loved him and he knows I loved him. [Tears
the paper.] It's ridiculous. "Vargas, come tonight.
We must have a talk." But he won't come, and even if he
should we couldn't talk alone, and if we did talk alone, I couldn't
let myself go as I can when I write. No, that won't do. I can't
get the idea, and I can't express it. Oh, what a miserable Teresina
I am! Sitting here weighing words when his life is in the balance.
What an egoist and what a coward! He wouldn't do that. His honor,
his life, would count for nothing if he could save Teresina.
I'll let my heart speak and begin without naming him so that
I won't call him "My Life." "I know everything"
-- that -- that's the way I ought to begin. "I know you
fight Nebreda tomorrow. You told me that you would not come tonight,
and I can't let things rest as they are. I don't say give up
the duel because I know you would not. And beside I don't want
to make you ridiculous. But, for God's sake, defend yourself
well! I want you to live--if you don't I will die. You are brave--you
are strong--defend yourself. Think of me, think of Maria, think
of us both. For me and for your child! Forgive me. Goodbye."
I'll sign no name -- why not a T? -- no -- Teresa -- no -- Teresina.
[Looking around.] Where's the blotter? Gone--such a little
thing to make one nervous--when so much is at stake. I'll write
the envelope while it dries. [Addressing the envelope.]
"Senor Don Juan De Vargas, personal and most urgent."
There--Louisa will take it. [Lays the envelope down, takes
the letter and looks to see if it is dry.]
MORE
MONOLOGUES BY JOSE ECHEGARAY |
