Federico García
Lorca
Blood Wedding
(Bodas de sangre)
1933
A
tragedy in three acts and seven scenes
Act
I
A. S. Kline © 2007 All Rights Reserved
This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose. Permission to perform this version of the play, on stage or film, by amateur or professional companies, and for commercial purposes, should be requested from the translator,
Contents
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
(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
(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.)
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-L