Federico García Lorca

                      

Doña Rosita the Spinster

and the Language of Flowers

 

(Doña Rosita la soltera

o el lenguaje de las flores)

 

1935

 

A Granadine poem of the 19th Century, divided into several gardens with scenes of song and dance

 

Act I


 

 

A. S. Kline © 2008 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,

mailto:tonykline@yahoo.com.

 

 


Cast List

 

Doña Rosita

The Nurse/Housekeeper

The Aunt

First Girl/Coquette

Second Girl/Coquette

Third Girl/Coquette

First Spinster

Second Spinster

Third Spinster

The Spinsters’ Mother

First Ayola daughter

Second Ayola daughter

The Uncle

The Nephew

The Professor of Economics/Señor X

Don Martín

A Boy

Two Working Men

A Voice 
 


Act I

 

(A room with an exit to a conservatory)

 

UNCLE: And my seeds?

 

NURSE: They were there.

 

UNCLE: Well, they’re not now.

 

AUNT: Hellebores, fuchsias, and chrysanthemums, violet-coloured Louis Passy roses and silver-white Altairs with streaks of heliotrope.

 

UNCLE: You should be careful with flowers.

 

NURSE: If you mean me…

 

AUNT: Hush. Don’t answer back.

 

UNCLE: I mean all of you. I found dahlia seeds trampled into the soil. (He goes into the conservatory.) You don’t appreciate my conservatory enough; since the eighteenth century, when the Countess de Vandes grew the first musk rose, no one in Granada has managed it except me, not even the botanist at the University. You must have more respect for my plants.

 

NURSE: Well, don’t I respect them?

 

AUNT: Ha! You’re the worst.

 

NURSE: Yes, Señora. But I say drench the flowers like that and sprinkle water everywhere and we’ll soon have toads in the sofa.

 

AUNT: Well you like the scent of flowers.

 

NURSE: No, Señora. To me flowers smell of dead children, or a flock of nuns, or a church altar. Sad things. Give me an orange or a fine quince, and you can forget all the roses in the world. But here….it’s roses to the right, basil to the left, anemones, salvias, petunias and those flowers of today, the fashionable ones, chrysanthemums, ruffled like the hair of gipsy girls. How I’d love to see a pear-tree planted in this garden, or a cherry, or a persimmon!

 

AUNT: So you could eat them!

 

NURSE: Since I’ve a mouth…As they sang in my village;

 

           The mouth is there for eating,

           the feet are there for dancing,

           and a woman has something…

 

(She stops goes, over to the Aunt, and whispers to her.)

         

AUNT: Jesus! (Crossing herself)

 

NURSE: It’s village vulgarity. (Crossing herself)

 

ROSITA: (Entering rapidly. She is in red: her dress is nineteenth century, with mutton sleeves and trimmed with ribbons.) And my hat? Where’s my hat? San Luis’ bells have already chimed thirty!

 

NURSE: I left it on the table.

 

ROSITA: Well it’s not there. (Looking for it)

 

(The Nurse exits.)

 

AUNT: Have you tried the cupboard?

 

(The Aunt exits.)

 

NURSE: (Entering) I can’t find it.

 

ROSITA: Can it be possible that no one knows where my hat is?

 

NURSE: Wear the blue one with daisies.

 

ROSITA: You’re crazy.

 

NURSE: Not as crazy as you.

 

AUNT: (Returning with it) Here it is, be off with you!

 

(Rosita takes it and runs out.)

 

NURSE: Everything has to be done on the wing. Today wants now what will happen tomorrow. It takes flight, and slips through our hands. When a little girl has to count the days she begins when she’s already old: ‘My Rosita is eighty now’…it’s always so. How often has she sat down to watch you do tatting or frivolité, or point de feston, or draw threads to adorn a dressing gown.

 

AUNT: Never.

 

NURSE: Always in and out, and out and in; in and out, and out and in.

 

AUNT: Mind what you’re saying!

 

NURSE: Whatever it means, it’s nothing new.

 

AUNT: Of course I’ve never liked to oppose her. How can one hurt an orphaned creature?

 

NURSE: Neither father nor mother, nor dog to defend her, but she has an uncle and aunt who are treasures. (She embraces her.)

 

UNCLE: (Within) Now this is the end!

 

AUNT: Holy mother of God!

 

UNCLE: It’s fine that they crush my seeds underfoot, but it’s intolerable that they tear the leaves from a rosebush I love so much: more than all the other roses, the musk or the hispid or the pompon or the damascene or the eglantine or the Queen Isabel. (To the Aunt) Come, come and see.

 

AUNT: It’s broken?

 

UNCLE: No, no the worst hasn’t happened, but it might have.

 

AUNT: We’ll get to the bottom of this!

 

UNCLE: I wonder who knocked its pot over?

 

NURSE: Don’t you stare at me.

 

UNCLE: Was it me, then?

 

NURSE: Why not a cat, or a dog, or a gust of wind through the window?

 

AUNT: Go, and sweep the conservatory.

 

NURSE: In this house it’s clear no one’s allowed to speak.

 

UNCLE: (Entering) It’s a rose no one has seen before; a surprise I’ve prepared for you. Because it’s unbelievable this ‘rosa declinata’ with drooping buds, and defenceless because it lacks thorns; What a marvel, eh? Not one thorn! Because there’s the myrtifolia that comes from Belgium and the sulphurata that shines in the dark. But this surpasses them all in rarity. The botanists call it ‘rosa mutabile’, which means mutable, changeable…There’s a description and a picture in this book, look! (He opens the book.) Red in the morning, it whitens in the afternoon, and fades at nightfall.

 

                              When it opens in the morning,

                              It glows as red as blood.

                              The dew won’t touch it

                              Afraid of being burnt.

                              Open wide at noon

                              It’s hard as the coral.

                              The sun leans through windows

                              To gaze at its gleaming.

                              When the birds begin

                              To sing in the branches

                              And the afternoon faints

                              In violet light, off the sea,

                              It turns white, as white

                              As a grain of white salt.

And when night chimes

Its white horn of metal

And the stars all appear

As the breezes die,

In a ray of darkness

It starts to fade.

                             

 

AUNT: And has it flowered yet?

 

UNCLE: One flower has opened.

 

AUNT: And it only lasts a day?

 

UNCLE: Just one. But I think I’ll spend the day beside it to watch how it whitens.

 

ROSITA: (Entering) My parasol.

 

UNCLE: Your parasol.

 

AUNT: (Loudly) The Parasol!

 

NURSE: (Appearing) Here’s the parasol!

 

(Rosita takes the parasol and kisses her uncle and aunt.)

 

ROSITA: How do I look?

 

UNCLE: Beautiful.

 

AUNT: There’s not another like you.

 

ROSITA: (Opening the parasol) And now?

 

NURSE: For the love of God, close that parasol, you mustn’t open one indoors. It brings bad luck!

 

                              By Saint Bartholomew’s wheel

                              And Saint Joseph’s staff

                              And the sacred laurel bough,

                              Darkness, get thee

                              To Jerusalem’s four corners.

 

(The others laugh. The uncle exits.)

 

ROSITA: (Closing it) It’s closed.

 

NURSE: Don’t do that again! Holy….saints!

 

ROSITA: Oops!

 

AUNT: What were you going to say?

 

NURSE: But I didn’t say it.

 

ROSITA: (Leaving, with a smile.) See you later!

 

AUNT: Who’s going with you?

 

ROSITA: (Bowing her head) I’ll be with the girls. (She exits.)

 

NURSE: And the boyfriend.

 

AUNT: The boyfriend I believe I had to accept.

 

NURSE: I don’t know which I like better, whether it’s the boyfriend or her. (The Aunt sits down to her lace-making.) A pair of cousins to be put on a shelf of sugar, and if they die, God help them, be embalmed, and set in a niche with crystal and snow.  Which do you prefer? (She begins sweeping up.)

 

AUNT: I love them both, as nephew and niece.

 

NURSE: One for the top sheet and one for the bottom, but…

 

AUNT: Rosita grew up here with me…

 

NURSE: Of course. As if I didn’t believe in family. With me it’s law. Blood runs in our veins, but unseen. She loves a second cousin she sees every day more than a brother far away. For what, we’ll see.

 

AUNT: Woman, get on with the cleaning.

 

NURSE: I see it now. Here you’re not allowed to open your mouth. You nurse a lovely girl like that. You abandon your own children, in a shack, quivering with hunger.

 

AUNT: It’s ‘quivering with cold’.

 

NURSE: Quivering with everything, so they can say to you: ‘Be silent!’ And since I’m a servant I can do no more than be silent, so that’s what I do, and I can’t answer and say…

 

AUNT: And say what..?

 

NURSE: Oh…leave that bobbin alone with its clicking: you’re making my head burst with your clicking.

 

AUNT: (Laughing) Go, and see who’s there.

 

(There is a silence on stage, in which we hear the sound of the bobbin with which the Aunt is lace-making.)

 

VOICE: (A street-vendor’s call) Camomile….from the mountains!

 

AUNT: (Speaking to herself) One must buy camomile sometimes. On some occasions it’s needed….Another day goes by…. (counting the points in her lace) thirty-seven, thirty-eight.

 

VOICE : (Further off) Camomile…from the mountains!

 

AUNT: (Taking a pin) And…forty.

 

NEPHEW: (Entering) Aunt.

 

AUNT: (Without looking at him) Hello, have a seat if you want. Rosita has gone out already.

 

NEPHEW: Who is she with?

 

AUNT: With the girls. (A pause. She looks at the Nephew.) Something’s happened.

 

NEPHEW: Yes.

 

AUNT: (Anxiously) I can almost guess. I hope I’m wrong.

 

NEPHEW: No. Read this.

 

AUNT: (Reading) Well: it’s natural. That’s why I opposed your relationship with Rosita. I knew that sooner or later you would have to join your parents. And how close it is! Forty days travel to reach Argentina, to reach Tucumán. If I were a man and younger, I’d slap your face.

 

NEPHEW: It’s no sin to love my cousin. Do you imagine that I want to leave? Precisely when I want to stay, this arrives.

 

AUNT: Stay? Stay? You have to go. There are acres of land, and your father is old. I’m here to insist you make the voyage. But you’ll leave me a life of bitterness. I don’t want to think about your cousin. You’re about to fire an arrow with purple ribbons into her heart. Now she’ll find that cloth doesn’t only serve to make flowers, but to soak up tears too.

 

NEPHEW: What do you advise me to do?

 

AUNT: You must go. Remember your father is my brother. Here you are no more than a stroller among gardens, while there you will be a farmer.

 

NEPHEW: But I would prefer…

 

AUNT: To marry? Are you mad? When your future’s already laid out? And take Rosita with you, no doubt? Over our dead bodies, your uncle’s and mine.

 

NEPHEW: That’s just words. I know only too well I can’t. But I want Rosita to wait for me. I’ll soon be back.

 

AUNT: If you don’t hit it off with a girl from Tucumán first. The words stuck to the roof of my mouth before I consented to your friendship with her; because my little girl will be left alone behind these four walls, while you’ll be free to travel the seas, the rivers, the groves of grapefruit trees: my little one will be here, her every day like another, and you’ll be there with horse and a gun shooting pheasants.

 

NEPHEW: You’ve no reason to speak to me in this way. I gave my word and I’ll keep it. My father is in America keeping his word, and you know…

 

AUNT: (Gently) Hush.

 

NEPHEW: I have hushed. But don’t take my respect as a sign of shame.

 

AUNT: (With Andalusian irony) Pardon me! I forgot: you’re a man now.

 

NURSE: (Entering weeping) If he was a man he wouldn’t be going.

 

AUNT: (Forcefully) Silence!

 

(The Nurse weeps with great sobs.)

 

NEPHEW: I’ll return again in an instant. You tell her.

 

AUNT: Don’t mind her. The old have to suffer difficult times.

 

(The Nephew leaves.)

 

NURSE: Ah, what a tragedy for my little girl! A tragedy! A tragedy! Such are the men of today! I’ll be gathering gold coins in the street based on his promise.  Once again tears fill this house. Ay! Señora! (Attacking him) If only a sea-serpent would swallow him!

 

AUNT: For God’s sake!

 

NURSE:                              By the sesame plant

                                        By the three holy questions

                                        And the cinnamon flower,

                                        May your nights be evil

                                        And your sowing be evil.

                                        By the well of Saint Nicholas

                                        May your salt turn to poison.

 

(She picks up a jug of water, and makes a cross in the salt)

 

AUNT: No curses. Go about your business.

 

(The Nurse leaves. They hear laughter. The Aunt exits.)

 

FIRST GIRL/COQUETTE: (Entering, and closing her parasol) Ay!

 

SECOND GIRL: (Ditto) Ay! It’s chilly!

 

THIRD GIRL: (Ditto) Ay!

 

ROSITA: (Ditto)                 My three pretty girls

                                        Whom do you sigh for?

 

FIRST GIRL:                       For no one.

 

SECOND GIRL:                                  For the breeze.

 

THIRD GIRL:                      For a lover, to court me.

 

ROSITA:                             What then will bring

                                        A cry to your lips?

 

FIRST GIRL:                       The wall.

 

SECOND GIRL:                                  A true portrait.

 

THIRD GIRL:                      The lace of my bedspread.

 

ROSITA:                             I long to sigh too,

                                        My friends! My beauties!

 

FIRST GIRL:                       Who’ll receive it?

 

ROSITA:                                                 Two eyes

                                        That the shadows whiten,

                                        With lashes like vines,

                                        Where the dawn’s sleeping.

                                        And, though dark they’re

                                        Afternoons of poppies.

                                       

 

FIRST GIRL:                       A ribbon for that sigh!

 

SECOND GIRL:                    Ay!

 

THIRD GIRL:                                Happy girl!

 

FIRST GIRL:                                                     Happy!

 

ROSITA:                             If I’m not mistaken, then I’ve

                                        Heard certain things about you.

 

FIRST GIRL:                       Rumours are wild plants.

 

SECOND GIRL:                    The murmur of the waves.

 

ROSITA:                             I’m going to tell…

 

FIRST GIRL:                                           Here goes!

 

THIRD GIRL:                      Rumours are garlands.

 

ROSITA:                             Granada, Calle de Elvira,

                                        That’s where the girls live,

                                        Who go to the Alhambra,

                                        Three or four alone.

                                        One dressed in green,

                                        One in mauve, the other

                                        In a Scottish corselet –

                                        With ribbons at their tails.

                                        Those in front are, herons;

                                        The one behind’s a pigeon;

                                        Open to the poplars

                                        Mysterious the muslins.

                                        How dark the Alhambra!

                                        Where will the girls go

                                        While suffering the shadow

                                        The fountain and the rose?

                                        What lovers do they hope for?

                                        What myrtles will hide them?

                                        What hands steal the perfume

                                        From their swelling breasts?

                                        No one’s with them, no one;

                                        Two herons and a pigeon.

                                        Yet the world has lovers

                                        Hidden in the bushes.

                                        The Cathedral still scatters

                                        Bronze taken by the breeze.

                                        The Genil lulls its oxen:

                                        Its butterflies, the Darro.

                                        The night comes charged

                                        With its hills of shadow;

                                        One shows off her shoes

                                        Beneath silk lace flounces;

                                        The eldest’s eyes are open

                                        The youngest’s narrowed.

                                        Whose will these three be

                                        High-breasted long-tails?

                                        To whom are they waving?

                                        Now, where are they going?

                                        Granada, Calle de Elvira,

                                        That’s where the girls live,

                                        Who go to the Alhambra,

                                        Three or four alone.

 

FIRST GIRL:                       May the waves of rumour

                                        Spread through Granada.

 

SECOND GIRL:                    Do we have lovers?

 

ROSITA:                                                           Not one.

 

SECOND GIRL:                    Is that the truth?

 

ROSITA:                                                     Yes, indeed.

 

THIRD GIRL:                      Laces of frost adorn

                                        Our bridal nightgowns.

 

ROSITA:                             But…

 

FIRST GIRL:                       The night delights us.

 

ROSITA:                             But…

 

SECOND GIRL:                    In streets full of shadow.

 

FIRST GIRL:                       We climb to the Alhambra,

                                        Three or four alone.

 

THIRD GIRL:                      Ay!

 

SECOND GIRL:                              Hush!

 

THIRD GIRL:                                           Why?

 

                                                                      Ay! 

 

FIRST GIRL:                       Ay, let no one hear her!

 

ROSITA:                             Alhambra, jasmine of sadness

                                        Where the moonlight rests.

 

NURSE: Child, your Aunt is calling you. (Very sadly.)                  

 

ROSITA: Have you been crying?

 

NURSE: (Controlling herself) No…it’s just something, something I…

 

ROSITA: I’m not afraid. What’s happened? (She goes in swiftly, gazing at the Nurse. When Rosita has gone, the Nurse breaks into silent weeping.)

 

FIRST GIRL: (In a loud voice) What’s going on?

 

SECOND GIRL: You tell us.

 

NURSE: Be quiet.

 

THIRD GIRL: (In a whisper) Is it bad news?

 

(The Nurse goes to the door and looks towards the point of Rosita’s exit.)

 

NURSE: She’s telling her now!

 

(Pause, while they all listen.)

 

FIRST GIRL:   Rosita is crying, let’s go inside.

 

NURSE: Come back, and you’ll hear. Go! You can leave through the gate. (They leave.)

 

(The stage is left empty. A piano faintly plays a study by Czerny. A Pause. The cousin enters and on arrival halts centre stage as Rosita enters. The two remain gazing at each other. The cousin advances. He takes her by the waist. She leans her head on his shoulder.)

 

ROSITA:                             Why are your treacherous eyes

                                        Intertwined with mine?

                                        Why do your hands weave

                                        Flowers above my head.

                                        To what grief of nightingales

                                        Do you condemn my youth,

                                        For since my life and aim’s

                                        Your figure and your presence,

                                        You’ll shatter with cruel absence

                                        The strings of my lute!

 

 

COUSIN:                            Oh, my cousin, my treasure,

                                        Nightingale on the mountain,

                                        Cease your singing of

                                        Imaginary cold;

                                        There’s no ice in my going,

                                        For, though I cross the sea,

                                        The waters must lend me

                                        Nard of spume and calm

                                        To contain the fire in me,

                                        For I’m about to burn.

                                       

 

ROSITA:                             One night, half-slumbering,

                                        On my balcony of jasmine,

                                        I saw two cherubs plunging

                                        Towards an amorous rose;

                                        Being white in colour

                                        It flushed incarnadine;

                                        But, like a tender flower,

                                        Its petals, all reddened,

                                        Fell from it wounded

                                        By the kiss of love.

                                        So I, the innocent cousin,

                                        In my garden of myrtle,

                                        Gave my longings to the air,

                                        My whiteness to the fountain.

                                        Sweet, thoughtless gazelle

                                        I raised my eyes, I saw you

                                        And in my heart I felt

                                        Sharp needles inside me

                                        That are like open wounds

                                        Crimson as wallflowers.

                                       

 

COUSIN:                            I shall return, my cousin,