Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 139

DOnA LAURA. Pa.s.s me the book, please. [_takes book, reads aloud._]

"Twenty years have pa.s.sed. He returns. And each upon beholding the other exclaims--Can it be possible that this is he? Merciful heavens, can this be she?"

[_Dona Laura returns book to Don Gonzalo._]

DON GONZALO. Indeed, you are to be envied for your wonderful eyesight.

DOnA LAURA [_aside_]. I knew the lines from memory.

DON GONZALO. I am very fond of good verse, very fond. I even composed some in my youth.

DOnA LAURA. Good ones?

DON GONZALO. Of all kinds. I was a great friend of Esp.r.o.nceda, Zorrilla, Becquer and others. I first met Zorrilla in America.

DOnA LAURA. Why, have you been in America?

DON GONZALO. Several times. The first time I went I was only six years old.

DOnA LAURA. Columbus must have carried you in one of his caravels.

DON GONZALO [_laughing_]. Not quite as bad as that. I am old, I admit, but I did not know Ferdinand and Isabella. [_They both laugh._] I was also a great friend of Campoamor. I met him in Valencia. I am a native of that city.

DOnA LAURA. You are?

DON GONZALO. I was brought up there and there I spent my early youth.

Have you ever visited that city?

DOnA LAURA. Yes, Senor. Not far from Valencia there was a mansion that if still there, should retain memories of me. I spent there several seasons. This was many, many years ago. It was near the sea, concealed among lemon and orange trees. They called it--let me see, what did they call it?--"Maricela."

DON GONZALO [_startled_]. Maricela?

DOnA LAURA. Maricela. Is the name familiar to you?

DON GONZALO. Yes, very familiar. If my memory serves me right, for we forget as we grow old, there lived in that mansion the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I a.s.sure you I have seen a few. Let me see--what was her name? Laura--Laura--Laura Lorente.

DOnA LAURA [_startled_]. Laura Lorente?

DON GONZALO. Yes. [_They look at each other strangely._]

DOnA LAURA [_recovering herself_]. Nothing. You reminded me of my best friend.

DON GONZALO. How strange!

DOnA LAURA. It is strange. She was called "The Silver Maiden."

DON GONZALO. Precisely, "The Silver Maiden." By that name she was known in that locality. I seem to see her as if she were before me now, at that window of the red roses. Do you remember that window?

DOnA LAURA. Yes, I remember. It was that of her room.

DON GONZALO. She spent many hours there. I mean in my days.

DOnA LAURA [_sighing_]. And in mine, too.

DON GONZALO. She was ideal. Fair as a lily, jet black hair and black eyes, with a very sweet expression. She seemed to cast a radiance wherever she was. Her figure was beautiful, perfect. "What forms of sovereign beauty G.o.d models in human sculpture!" She was a dream.

DOnA LAURA [_aside_]. If you but knew that dream was now by your side, you would realize what dreams are worth. [_Aloud_.] She was very unfortunate and had a sad love affair.

DON GONZALO. Very sad. [_They look at each other._]

DOnA LAURA. You know of it?

DON GONZALO. Yes.

DOnA LAURA [_aside_]. Strange are the ways of Providence! This man is my early lover.

DON GONZALO. The gallant lover, if we refer to the same affair--

DOnA LAURA. To the duel?

DON GONZALO. Precisely, to the duel. The gallant lover was--my cousin, of whom I was very fond.

DOnA LAURA. Oh, yes, a cousin. My friend told me in one of her letters the story of that love affair, truly romantic. He, your cousin, pa.s.sed by on horseback every morning by the rose path under her window, and tossed up to her balcony a bouquet of flowers which she caught.

DON GONZALO. And later in the afternoon, the gallant horseman would return by the same path, and catch the bouquet of flowers she would toss him. Was it not so?

DOnA LAURA. Yes. They wanted to marry her to a merchant whom she did not fancy.

DON GONZALO. And one night, when my cousin watched under her window to hear her sing, this new lover presented himself unexpectedly.

DOnA LAURA. And insulted your cousin.

DON GONZALO. There was a quarrel.

DOnA LAURA. And later a duel.

DON GONZALO. Yes, at sunrise, on the beach, and the merchant was badly wounded. My cousin had to conceal himself for a few days and later to fly.

DOnA LAURA. You seem to know the story perfectly.

DON GONZALO. And so do you.

DOnA LAURA. I have told you that my friend related it to me.

DON GONZALO. And my cousin to me. [_Aside._] This woman is Laura. What a strange fate has brought us together again.

DOnA LAURA [_aside_]. He does not suspect who I am. Why tell him? Let him preserve his illusion.

DON GONZALO [_aside_]. She does not suspect she is talking to her old lover. How can she? I will not reveal my ident.i.ty.