Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays
Chapter 138 : DON GONZALO [_brus.h.i.+ng the dust from his shoes with his handkerchief_].If the grou

DON GONZALO [_brus.h.i.+ng the dust from his shoes with his handkerchief_].

If the grounds were sprinkled more freely it would be an improvement.

DOnA LAURA. What an idea, to brush your shoes with your handkerchief.

DON GONZALO. What?

DOnA LAURA. Do you use a shoe brush as a handkerchief?

DON GONZALO. By what right do you criticize my actions?

DOnA LAURA. By the rights of a neighbor.

DON GONZALO. Juanito, give me my book. I do not care to hear any more nonsense.

DOnA LAURA. You are very polite.

DON GONZALO. Pardon me, Senora, but if you did not interfere with what does not concern you.

DOnA LAURA. I generally say what I think.

DON GONZALO. And say more than you should. Give me the book, Juanito.

JUANITO. Here it is, Senor. [_Juanito takes book from pocket, hands it to Don Gonzalo; then exits._]

[_Don Gonzalo, casting indignant glances at Dona Laura, puts on an enormous pair of gla.s.ses, takes from his pocket a reading-gla.s.s, adjusts both to suit him, opens his book._]

DOnA LAURA. I thought you were going to take out a telescope now.

DON GONZALO. What, again?

DOnA LAURA. Your sight must be fine.

DON GONZALO. Many times better than yours.

DOnA LAURA. Yes, it is very evident.

DON GONZALO. Many hares and partridges could bear testimony to my words.

DOnA LAURA. Do you hunt?

DON GONZALO. I did, and even now--

DOnA LAURA. Oh, yes, of course.

DON GONZALO. Yes, Senora. Every Sunday I take my gun and dog, you understand, and go to one of my properties near Aravaca, just to kill time.

DOnA LAURA. Yes, to kill time. That is all you can kill.

DON GONZALO. Do you think so? I could show you a wild boar's head in my study--

DOnA LAURA. Yes, and I could show you a tiger's skin in my boudoir. What an argument!

DON GONZALO. Very well, Senora, please allow me to read. I do not feel like having more conversation.

DOnA LAURA. Well, keep quiet then.

DON GONZALO. But first I shall take a pinch of snuff. [_Takes out snuff box._] Will you have some? [_Offers box to Dona Laura._]

DOnA LAURA. If it is good?

DON GONZALO. It is of the finest. You will like it.

DOnA LAURA [_taking pinch of snuff_]. It clears my head.

DON GONZALO. And mine.

DOnA LAURA. Do you sneeze?

DON GONZALO. Yes, Senora, three times.

DOnA LAURA. And so do I. What a coincidence!

[_After taking the snuff, they await the sneezes, making grimaces, and then sneeze alternately three times each._]

DON GONZALO. There, I feel better.

DOnA LAURA. So do I. [_Aside._] The snuff has made peace between us.

DON GONZALO. You will excuse me if I read aloud?

DOnA LAURA. Read as you please; you will not disturb me.

DON GONZALO [_reading_]. "All love is sad, but sad and all, it is the best thing that exists." That is from Campoamor.

DOnA LAURA. Ah!

DON GONZALO [_reading_]. "The daughters of the mothers I once loved, kiss me now as they would kiss a wooden image." Those lines are in the humorous vein.

DOnA LAURA [_laughing_]. So I see.

DON GONZALO. There are some beautiful poems in this book. Listen: "Twenty years have pa.s.sed. He returns."

DOnA LAURA. You cannot imagine how it affects me to see you reading with all those gla.s.ses.

DON GONZALO. Can it be possible that you read without requiring any?

DOnA LAURA. Certainly.

DON GONZALO. At your age? You must be jesting.