Mario Vargas Llosa - Three Plays - The Young Lady from Tacna, Kathie and the Hippopotamus, La Chunga

BELISARIO: Well, it won’t be a love story, but it’s certainly romantic. That much is clear. As far back as you can remember, and as far back as my mother could remember, you were both as thick as thieves. But all those years of living in the same house, wasn’t there ever any friction, any jealousy between them? They shared their lives, but didn’t they ever feel envious of each other? ( He looks sardonically at them both .) Well, I don’t suppose you actually shared Grandfather. But you certainly shared the children, didn’t you?

( He walks round GRANDMOTHER and MAMAE, looking at them carefully.

That is to say, you produced them, Grandma, but it was you, Mamaé, who had all the anxiety and the sleepless nights. You gave them their bottles and changed their nappies and watched over their cradles, and it was you who stayed at home so that Grandmother and Grandfather could go to the theatre or the cinema, or to parties, when they were still able to afford such luxuries.

( He goes towards the desk, where he leaves his papers and pencils. He rolls up his trousers, like a child about to wade across a stream, and suddenly starts to skip and jump about, as if he were spinning a top or playing hopscotch.)

But there was someone else you were even more patient with, Mamaé — infinitely patient with in fact — and that was that budding little lawyer, over in Bolivia — yes, the future saviour of the family.

( During BELISARIO’ s speech , AGUSTIN and CESAR have come in from the street. They kiss GRANDMOTHER and their sister , AMELIA, and go up to greet MAMAE, who smiles politely and bows when she sees them coming. They embrace her. She lets them, but suddenly shouts out: )

MAMAE: Long live Herod! Long live Herod! Ahhh!

( As MAMAE shouts , BELISARIO carries on writing. He seems to be enjoying himself very much. In fact he is so delighted he can hardly sit still. He stops working from time to time to observe MAMAE. He imitates her gestures and expression — she raises his hand to his throat as if he were attempting to throttle someone .)

GRANDMOTHER: Quiet, Elvira, stop shouting like a maniac. What’s this stupid habit you’ve got of shrieking ‘Long live Herod!’ whenever Agustín and César appear? ( To AGUSTIN and CESAR) Dear oh dear, what with Mamaé who lives in a world of her own, and my husband who doesn’t remember anything from one moment to the next, I don’t know what’s to become of me, I really don’t. I’m just going to see if Pedro’s awake. He went to have a little rest.

( She goes out . AMELIA, AGUSTIN and CESAR gather round MAMAE.)

MAMAE: Of all the characters in history, he’s quite my favourite. He had every one of the little blighters killed. I’d do the same — I’d do away with the lot of them. I wouldn’t leave a single one, not even as a specimen.

CESAR: ( To his brother ) And there were you wanting me to get the children out of the car so they could say hello to Mama and Papa.

MAMAE: Because I loathe them! And do you know why? Because of all those thousands and thousands of dirty nappies.

AGUSTIN: ( Stroking her hair ) You’ve spent your life looking after other people’s children, and now it turns out you detest the little mites.

MAMAE: Because of those millions of bibs they’re sick over, they’re always about to burst into tears — they’re always drooling, their noses need wiping, and their knees are always dirty and covered in scabs. And they won’t even let the grown-ups have their meals in peace, what with their bad table manners and naughty little pranks.

(MAMAE talks to them calmly, smiling and bowing, but she gives the impression that she neither hears nor understands a word of what they say. )

AMELIA: And to think that when Belisario had chickenpox, she was the one who threw me out of the room so that she could sleep beside him.

MAMAE: Because they shout and throw tantrums; everything gets broken, mucked up, or ruined.

BELISARIO: ( Interrupting his work ) You’d spend the day covering me with that ghastly black ointment. Every little spot, one by one. Then you’d take me by the hands and tell me stories to take my mind off it so I wouldn’t scratch. But even that didn’t stop me looking a sight, Mamaé!

MAMAE: They’re selfish little brutes, they don’t care about anyone. They’re like sultans, you’ve got to pander to all their stupid little fads. So, like Herod, every single one of them. Like so, and like so!

CESAR: What about that time in Arequipa, Mamaé, when I’d invite my schoolmates home? You used to make tea for all thirty of us, remember? So you can swear you hate children till you’re blue in the face, I just don’t believe it.

(AMELIA signals to AGUSTIN and they both move aside a few steps. BELISARIO is sitting at his desk. He looks on intrigued, as AMELIA and AGUSTIN talk .)

AMELIA: I want to have a word with you, Agustín.

AGUSTIN: Yes, Amelia.

AMELIA: I’ve been meaning to tell you, I … I can’t go on like this any more.

( When CESAR hears her, he goes up to them. MAMAE falls asleep. )

CESAR: What’s the matter, Amelia?

AMELIA: I’m quite exhausted. You’ll just have to take on a maid.

AGUSTIN: We’d have done that some time ago if it had been at all possible. I thought we agreed that César and I would help Belisario finish his course at university and you would look after the house.

AMELIA: Yes, I know. But I can’t go on like this, Agustín. It’s too much work for one person. And besides I’m slowly going out of my mind in this crazy household. What with Father and Mother and Mamaé — they’re all getting so old now. And Father doesn’t remember a single thing. I give him his lunch, he eats it, and five minutes later he asks for it all over again. And if I don’t do exactly as he wants, Mother bursts into tears.

CESAR: Don’t talk so loud, Amelia. Mamaé will hear you.

AMELIA: Let her hear me; she doesn’t understand. Her mind’s completely gone, César. ( Looks at MAMAE.) Not to mention her body. God knows I’m patient, and I’m very fond of her. But there are limits. Can’t you see she’s like a child? Washing her knickers and her dirty nighties has become a nightmare. Then there’s the cooking, the cleaning, the ironing, the beds to be made and the dishes to be washed. I just can’t cope any more.

CESAR: ( To AGUSTIN) Perhaps we really should consider taking on a maid, after all.

AGUSTIN: Oh, that’s brilliant, César. Yes, why don’t we? You’d be paying for her, I suppose.

CESAR: There’s no need to be sarcastic, Agustín. You know I’m hard up at the moment.

AGUSTIN: Then don’t talk about taking on a maid. Have you any idea what it costs to run this house? Has it ever occurred to you to pick up a pencil and work it out? Well, there’s the rent, the housekeeping, the water rates, the electricity, dustmen, doctor’s bills, medicine, not to mention the three thousand for Amelia. Do you know how much it all comes to? Fourteen or fifteen thousand soles a month. And what do you contribute apart from belly-aching the whole time? Two thousand soles .

(JOAQUIN comes in, as discreetly as a ghost, dressed in the same uniform he was wearing at the beginning of the play. He sits down next to MAMAE.)

CESAR: It’s hard enough for me to manage the two thousand. I don’t even earn enough to cover my own expenses. I’m in constant debt, as you well know … I’ve got four children, Agustín. I’ve had to put the two younger ones into a state school this year, along with all the mestizos and the negroes …