Three Plays: The Young Lady from Tacna, Kathie and the Hippopotamus, La Chunga by Mario Vargas Llosa Read Free Book Online

hands right inside the carriage and I remember Uncle Menelao saying: ‘What revolting nails they have.’ I used to be so frightened of them. La Mar looks pretty from a distance with its thatched huts and sandy streets. But when you’re there, you can see that it’s poor, dirty and smelly and it’s full of savage dogs. So it was there you used to meet her.
    JOAQUIN: Yes. There. In La Mar. Every evening. We’d meet and watch the sun going down.
    ( The conversation between AGUSTIN, AMELIA and CESAR now comes to the fore. )
    AGUSTIN: Everyone has his reasons, of course. Well, I’ve got mine too. You see, I could say I was fed up with living in lodgings, travelling by bus, and not being able to get married. Ever since the day I started work, over half my salary has been going towards helping Mother and Father, not to mention Amelia and my nephew. I could say I was fed up never being able to go to a good restaurant, never having any holidays, and always having to have my suits repaired. And because I’m fed up, from now on I’m only going to contribute two thousand soles a month towards the upkeep of this house. The same as you. What then
would happen to Father and Mother and Mamaé – and what would happen to our future legal genius?
    AMELIA: Don’t be so scornful, Agustín. My son will be a great lawyer one day, you’ll see, he’ll have masses of clients and he’ll earn a fortune. I’m not sending him out to work until he finishes his studies. He won’t be a failure and a mediocrity.
    AGUSTIN: Like me, you mean.
    MAMAE: So every evening, after your guard duty, as I waited for you, saying rosary after rosary to make the time pass more quickly, you were already on your way to her, to La Mar, where you’d talk passionately to her for hours.
    JOAQUIN: My little soldier’s girl, my love, your hands – they’re so strong – and yet so soft and gentle. Hold my head here, at the temples, I’ve been riding all morning and my body is throbbing. Press a little harder. It’s so soothing. That’s right. Ah yes, I feel as if my head were sinking into a bed of jasmine.
    BELISARIO: You saw straight through me, didn’t you, Uncle Agustín?
    CESAR: No. Please, don’t start up again. It’s the same thing day after day. Hasn’t it caused enough bad blood as it is? Instead of arguing, why don’t you think seriously about what I suggested?
    AMELIA: I have, César. I’m ready to go along with it. I was against it at first, but I’ve changed my mind.
    CESAR: Of course, Amelia. It’s the only sensible thing to do.
    ( Looks at MAMAE.) She’s already living in another world; she won’t even notice the change. You’ll be more relaxed; you’ll have more time for Mother and Father. They’ll live more comfortably. And it’s even quite likely that Mamaé will be happier, too.
    (JOAQUIN has taken hold of MAMAE’ s hands; he kisses them passionately. )
    JOAQUIN: But there’s something else about you, Carlota, something I like even more than your hands.
    MAMAE: ( Frightened ) What? What else was it you liked about that woman?
    AGUSTIN: So we put Mamaé into a home, do we? I see. Do you really think that’s going to solve things. Of course it’s very easy. Especially when you’re all no doubt thinking of that private place, San Isidro, where Aunt Augusta was. I’m sure Mamaé would be fine there. It’s so clean, and they’ve got nurses looking after the old people day and night, they take them out for walks in the gardens. They even show them a film once a week, don’t they? ( Sarcastically ) Have you any idea how much that place costs?
    JOAQUIN: Your neck. Let me kiss it, let me smell your sweetness. Yes. Yes, that’s right. Now I want to kiss your ears, put my tongue into those snug little lairs, nibble those pink little lobes. That’s why I love you, my little soldier’s girl. You know how to give me pleasure. You’re not like Elvira, that passionless dummy. She thinks love is all about reading poetry by an