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The House Of Bernarda Alba
La casa de Bernarda Alba
Federico García Lorca, Gwynne Edwards, Gwynne Edwards
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eBook - ePub
The House Of Bernarda Alba
La casa de Bernarda Alba
Federico García Lorca, Gwynne Edwards, Gwynne Edwards
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About This Book
Bernarda Alba is a widow, and her five daughters are incarcerated in mourning along with her. One by one they make a bid for freedom, with tragic consequences. Lorca's tale depicts the repression of women within Catholic Spain in the years before the war.
The House of Bernarda Alba is Lorca's last and possibly finest play, completed shortly before he was murdered by Nationalist sympathisers at the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War. Inspired by real characters and described by the author as 'a true record of village life', it is a tragic tale of frustration and explosive passions in a household of women rulled by a tyrannical mother.
Edited with invaluable student notes - a must for students of Spanish drama
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The House of Bernarda Alba
A Drama of Women in the Villages of Spain
La casa de Bernarda Alba
Drama de mujeres en los pueblos de Españ a
Translated by Gwynne Edwards
PERSONAS
BERNARDA, 60 años
MARÍA JOSEFA, madre de Bernarda, 80 años
ANGUSTIAS, hija de Bernarda, 39 años
MAGDALENA, hija de Bernarda, 30 años
AMELIA, hija de Bernarda, 27 años
MARTIRIO, hija de Bernarda, 24 años
ADELA, hija de Bernarda, 20 años
CRIADA, 50 años
LA PONCIA, criada, 60 años
PRUDENCIA, 50 años
MENDIGA con NIÑ A
MUJERES DE LUTO
MUJER 1
MUJER 2
MUJER 3
MUJER 4
MUCHACHA
El poeta advierte que estos tres actos tienen la intención de un documental fotográfico.
CHARACTERS
BERNARDA, aged 60
MARÍA JOSEFA, Bernarda’s mother, aged 80
ANGUSTIAS, Bernarda’s daughter, aged 39
MAGDALENA, Bernarda’s daughter, aged 30
AMELIA, Bernarda’s daughter, aged 27
MARTIRIO, Bernarda’s daughter, aged 24
ADELA, Bernarda’s daughter, aged 20
SERVANT, aged 50
PONCIA, servant, aged 60
PRUDENCIA, aged 50
BEGGAR WOMAN and her LITTLE GIRL
WOMEN MOURNERS
FIRST WOMAN
SECOND WOMAN
THIRD WOMAN
FOURTH WOMAN
GIRL
The poet points out that these three acts are intended to be a photographic documentary.
Acto Primero
Habitación blanquísima del interior de la casa de BERNARDA. Muros gruesos. Puertas en arco con cortinas de yute rematadas con madroños y volantes. Sillas de anea. Cuadros con paisajes inverosímiles de ninfas o reyes de leyenda. Es verano. Un gran silencio umbroso se extiende por la escena. Al levantarse el telón está la escena sola. Se oyen doblar las campanas.
Sale la CRIADA.
CRIADA. Ya tengo el doble de esas campanas metido entre las sienes.
PONCIA (sale comiendo chorizo y pan). Llevan ya más de dos horas de gori-gori. Han venido curas de todos los pueblos. La iglesia está hermosa. En el primer responso se desmayó la Magdalena.
CRIADA. Esa es la que se queda más sola.
PONCIA. Era a la única que quería el padre. ¡Ay! ¡Gracias a Dios que estamos solas un poquito! Yo he venido a comer.
CRIADA. ¡Si te viera Bernarda!
PONCIA. ¡Quisiera que ahora, como no come ella, que todas nos muriéramos de hambre! ¡Mandona! ¡Dominanta! ¡Pero se fastidia! Le he abierto la orza de chorizos.
CRIADA (con tristeza ansiosa). ¿Por qué no me das para mi niña, Poncia?
PONCIA. Entra y llévate también un puñado de garbanzos. ¡Hoy no se dará cuenta!
VOZ (dentro). ¡Bernarda!
PONCIA. La vieja. ¿Está bien encerrada?
Act One
A very white inner room in BERNARDA’s house. Thick walls. Arched doorways with jute curtains edged with tassels and flounces. Rush-bottomed chairs. Paintings of unrealistic landscapes with nymphs or legendary kings. It is summer. A great brooding silence fills the stage. When the curtain rises, the stage is empty. The sound of bells tolling.
The SERVANT enters.
SERVANT. Those bells are making my head ache.
PONCIA (enters eating bread and sausage). Two hours and more of all that wailing. Priests have come from all the villages. The church looks lovely. During the first response Magdalena fainted.
SERVANT. She’s the one who’ll be most alone.
PONCIA. The only one her father loved. Thank God we’re alone for a bit. I’ve come to eat.
SERVANT. If Bernarda sees you!
PONCIA. Now she’s not eating, she’d like to see all of us die of hunger! Bossy, domineering creature! She can go to hell! I’ve opened her sausage-jar!
SERVANT (sadly, longingly). Why not give me some for my little girl, Poncia?
PONCIA. In you go. Take a fistful of chickpeas too. She won’t be any the wiser today.
VOICE (off). Bernarda!
PONCIA. The old woman. Is she locked up properly?
CRIADA. Con dos vueltas de llave.
PONCIA. Pero debes poner también la tranca. Tiene unos dedos como cinco ganzúas.
VOZ. ¡Bernarda!
PONCIA (a voces). ¡Ya viene! (A la CRIADA.) Limpia bien todo. Si Bernarda no ve relucientes las cosas me arrancará los pocos pelos que me quedan.
CRIADA. ¡Qué mujer!
PONCIA. Tirana de todos los que la rodean. Es capaz de sentarse encima de tu corazón y ver cómo te mueres durante un año sin que se le cierre esa sonrisa fría que lleva en su maldita cara. ¡Limpia, limpia ese vidriado!
CRIADA. Sangre en las manos tengo de fregarlo todo.
PONCIA. Ella la más aseada, el...