Out of the Wings

Los siameses (1965), Griselda Gambaro

Siamese Twins : ACT ONE, Scene 1

Siamese Twins, translated by Gwendolen MacKeith

ACT ONE, Scene 1

Context:

This is the opening of the play.

Sample text

Interior of a furnished room with a small pine table, a bench, three chairs, a rickety old wardrobe, and two single beds with the mattresses showing, no sheets, just a couple of ordinary blankets at the foot of the beds. A bottle of water with two glasses on the table. In the corner, on the floor, an extremely tall pile of old newspapers. A door which opens onto the street. Some distance away from this doo,r but also looking onto the street, a high window, closed without curtains. Another door with a worn-out canvas drape leads to an inside courtyard.

When the curtain goes up, the stage appears empty for some moments. Then the blundering footsteps of someone running can be heard. LORENZO enters and immediately locks the door, as if someone was following him. With immense relief, he leans against the wall and starts shrieking with laughter. He has obviously escaped danger and he’s celebrating. Being out of breath cuts his laughter short and while it comes back spasmodically, little by little he stops laughing. A pause.

LORENZO : (Breathing excitedly.): I got away! I can run better alone … than … with someone (Pats himself on the back affectionately.) What a race! (Bending over he pats and slaps his calves.) The muscles of a runner! Yes indeed, the muscles of a runner, strong, robust. Why did I never devote my life to sport? My name in the papers. The great … great … great … (He starts sliding down the door until he ends up sitting on the floor, exhausted.) I could have gone on … running … until … until … (Abruptly remembers something which he finds funny and bursts out laughing.) Ignacio! Poor old Ignacio with his rubber legs! (Without being able to stop, he laughs, wheezing with fatigue. He’s only interrupted when someone moves the door handle and knocks at the door. The faltering and distressed voice of IGNACIO can be heard.)
Voice of IGNACIO:: Let me in, Lorenzo! Why have you locked me out? Let me in! (LORENZO listens with a certain air of polite consideration and does not answer.) Let me in, he’s getting closer! Don’t be a nutter! Open the door!
LORENZO: (Without moving.): He’s just coming! (Softly, almost sorrowful.) He’s wiped out.
Voice of IGNACIO: (With growing urgency.): Let me in right now! Why have you locked me out? Damn you! (Desperate.) He’s coming straight for me! Open up!
LORENZO: (In a soothing tone, but without actually moving.): I’ll let you in! Are you alone?
Voice of IGNACIO:: Let me in!
LORENZO:: Right away! But the thing is I’ve caught my nail.
Voice of IGNACIO:: Why did you shut me out?
LORENZO:: Don’t you believe me? It got caught on my … trouser leg. Fancy that!
Voice of IGNACIO:: Open the door!
LORENZO:: Are you alone?
Voice of IGNACIO:: He’s come round the corner! (Almost weeping with desperation) Please, let me in, please, let me in! (Bangs the door and rattles the door handle.)
LORENZO: (Annoyed.): Don’t break the door down! Are you alone? That’s what I’m asking you (He raises his voice. Meaning well.) Do you hear me? Shall I pass you a little piece of paper under the door? (He gets up, takes a piece of paper from the table drawer and writes something down, first standing, then he gets a chair and sits down. He writes slowly, with difficulty and with meticulous attention. IGNACIO goes on banging the door.)
Voice of IGNACIO:: Why won’t you let me in? (Desperate.) I’ll … I’ll … I’ll find you a girlfriend. He’s caught up with me! Don’t be a moron! Lorenzo! Lorenzo!
LORENZO: (Raises his eyes from the paper, sits up and leans on the table. Calmly he asks.): Is he close? You hear me? I’m asking you if he’s close! In case he jumps on top of me if I open the door. I don’t want any surprises. Is he near? You hear? (He listens for a moment, but only IGNACIO’s desperate cries of “let me in! let me in!” and his banging on the door can be heard. LORENZO, contemptuous.) No, you hear nothing. Your fear won’t let you hear a thing. (He sits down again.) Better that I write this down as well. (He spells out the words as he slowly writes them down.) Dear Ignacio: I ask if he is close by … (He lifts his head and scratches his chin uncertainly. Suddenly a shriek from IGNACIO can be heard and the beating of a body which has been violently dragged and flung against the door. LORENZO, absorbed in thought.) Shall I put in the bit about fear or not? No, he’s going to take offence. So many things to be tactful about! (He cocks his head and listens. Serenely sorrowful.) They’re going to break the door down. (Gets up and passes the little bit of paper under the door.) Hang on, I’ll pass you the pencil (He does.) Answer me in writing! I want to know if you are alone! (He listens with the same air of politeness to the punches and the beatings. The shrieks of IGNACIO have turned into groans which diminish and then stop altogether. LORENZO pins his ear to the door. Silence. He raps the door with his knuckles. Calls softly.) Ignacio? (A pause.) Ignacio! (A grunt as a response.) Can’t you speak? Are there people there? (Silence). Did you get my note? (He moves away, annoyed.) He’s gone quiet, he’s gone quiet! How on earth are we going to understand each other? (He gets closer to the door again, low voice.) Are you alone? Has he gone? (An affirmative grunt in response. LORENZO, almost sadly.) Why didn’t you go to the other side? Closed doors are closed doors. (A chuckle.) Open doors are open doors, from the start. You can see it in children. Me, ever since I was a boy, I gave away toys, I wanted to make myself kind. (Suddenly discovering it for himself, happy.) You don’t see it in children, I’m nothing like the boy that I was, I don’t give anything, I close the doors. (Laughs.) I was a patricidal boy. And you, Ignacio? We were born together and I don’t remember how you were before. (A silence) Can’t you answer with something, a line? It’s boring to talk alone. (He bends down and spies through the keyhole.) What’s that there? Your head? Everything looks black; what is it? Stand back a bit. Has he written anything? (Hesitates.) No, it’s useless. He’s practically illiterate. (He looks again and laughs.) You’re on the floor! (He sees something which strikes him and stops laughing. He turns, leaning against the door and closes his eyes. With distressed amazement.) Oh! What a state he’s left you in! What a shame! Ignacio! Ignacio! Do you hear me? Did you pass out? (He clutches his side with both hands as if an intense pain is suddenly attacking him.) Ow! (He drops to his knees and drags himself to the table, takes some pills out of a box and swallows some with a glass of water. He goes back to the door on his hands and knees. Pained) Ignacio, Ignacio, I need you. (He remains leaning against the door, rocking himself with cries of pain)
Voice of IGNACIO: (Distant and weak.): Lorenzo …
LORENZO: (Alert.): Yes!
Voice of IGNACIO:: Open the door.
LORENZO: (Hesitates, bites his lip.): Has he gone?
Voice of IGNACIO:: Yes. He’s gone.
LORENZO: (Mistrustful.): Are you sure? What if he comes back?
Voice of IGNACIO: (Weakened.): No. (A pause.) No. He’s not going to come back.
LORENZO:: How do you know? He’ll beat the two of us. If he sees me, he’ll remember that we were together and he’ll start to deal out the blows again.
Voice of IGNACIO:: No.
LORENZO:: And he won’t just hit me. One punch for me, another for you. You’ll get another share. And what for? You won’t be able to take it. Have patience, eh? Sleep. Why don’t you sleep a little? The blows will heal themselves while you sleep. Get some rest.
Voice of IGNACIO:: Give me water.
LORENZO: (Wilful.): Yes, yes I’ll give you water. Why not! Anything you want. (He gets up agilely, without showing any sign of pain now, and he fills a glass of water. He walks purposefully towards the door, sees it’s closed and, without batting an eyelid, he tips the water and makes it seep underneath the door. He sweeps it with a broom. Affectionate.) Can you do it? (He looks through the keyhole.) Slowly … Slowly … Don’t choke. What’s that you’re spitting out? (Offended.) My water? (He looks. He laughs, amused.) A tooth! The one right in the middle! Your beauty … (Laughs.) Where’s it all going to end? Now you can work in a circus! (He interrupts himself. Sincere.) I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.
Voice of IGNACIO: (Lifeless.): Lorenzo. Lo … ren … zo.
LORENZO: (Sorrowful.): Don’t call for me. What’s wrong? I can’t open the door. If he comes back, he’ll beat the both of us. He’s a strong guy, a real brute. He won’t make distinctions. He won’t say: I’ve already hit this guy so now I’ll leave him in peace, poor thing. I’ll set to work on this one (Pointing to himself.), on me. He won’t say that. He’ll beat you again, poor Ignacio. On the other hand, if he sees you on the floor, all bloody with a missing tooth … The man’s an animal, but no one beats up someone who’s already down. I guess … and if you were a corpse, you’d be even safer still.
Voice of IGNACIO:: Lorenzo …
LORENZO: (Very irritated.): Lorenzo, Lorenzo! I’m not opening the door! Leave me in peace!
Voice of IGNACIO:: Everything hurts … my body …
LORENZO: (Compassionate.): Do you want more water? You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to lie down here, on the floor. Are you in agreement with that? I don’t want you to feel alone, Ignacio. Does that help you at all, does it cheer you up? (He lies down along the length of the door. He yawns.) I’m so sleepy! (IGNACIO scratches the door. Harassed.) Why are you scratching? It’s impossible to close my eyes if you’re making noise. (The noise stops. He yawns.) I’m tired, after the race … Aren’t you? (A pause.) Would you answer me! (He gets up and spies through the keyhole. Spiteful.) He’s gone to sleep. He can sleep like a log. (He lies down and crosses his arms behind his head.) How uncomfortable! (He props himself up on his elbow and looks anxiously at the beds. He gets up and grabs a pillow.) I’ll sleep on the floor, I promised him I would. But my head has got nothing to do with my promises. What’s more, the head is the most delicate part of the body. It’s not a question of taking a physical risk. (Knocks on the door with his knuckles.) Ignacio, do you agree? (A silence.) Thanks, I knew you’d understand. (Lies down.) Yes, I’m more comfortable. (Crosses his legs and waves one in the air. He asks himself, capriciously.) Was it my fault, was it his fault, who threw the stone? (Sings softly.) Who puts the bell on the collar of the cat? (Sincere.) I suspect that … it was me who threw the stone. But who is capable of differentiating between the two of us? I can’t. We’re the same. This is our misfortune. We are so much the same that our actions get confused. (Amused.) In a nutshell: the hand which threw the stone could have been anyone’s. Poor Ignacio! What a beating! (He gets up and looks through the keyhole. Spiteful.) Look how he sleeps! He’s snoring. He’s all soiled with blood. How can he sleep like that? How filthy! He’s not dead, is he? (Spies for a moment in silence. Hisses.) Ignacio! Ignacio! (A pause.) No. He’s breathing (Laughs shakily.) He wouldn’t have missed much. But I’m still not cured, I need him. He leaves quite a lot to be desired as a nurse. He’s so negligent with my pills! (Takes another look through the keyhole.) Poor thing! His face has changed. Now no one will get us confused. (Lies down.) How uncomfortable this is! I’m not used to it, my bones hurt. He’s snoring. And I can’t sleep. It’s unfair. (A pause.) My bones are hurting so much, repentance doesn’t matter to me at all. And even so, I still have to be repent. (He looks at the bed. He gets up and throws the mattress off. He drags it to the door. He’s going to lie down, looks at the mattress on IGNACIO’s bed, takes that as well and climbs on top of them both with evident satisfaction. He lies down.) Now that’s more like it. (He bounces.) So comfortable! I can think. Once again, I am repentant. I have to do something to make it up to him for the beating. Shall I stop sleeping on the floor? Yes, yes, enough is enough. (He holds onto his knees with his hands and waves his legs in the air as if he was running. Amused.) Running along with his rubber legs! (He yawns. Grabs a corner of one of the blankets and drags it behind him. He covers himself. Sings softly.) Pa-pa-pa-pa! (Without conviction) Poor Ignacio …! If I had my girl on the mattress … (Slavers lustfully.)
Voice of IGNACIO: (Distant and weak.): Lorenzo … Lo … ren … zo … (He scrapes the door. LORENZO turns over and burrows further under the blanket. He laughs between dreams. Only the sound of the scratching of the door can be heard until it stops completely.)

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