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ACT ONE
Scene One
Almagro. Spring, 1476. The residence of the GRAND MASTER, the Order of Calatrava.
COMMANDER.
Are you sure the Master knows Iâm
In Almagro?
FLORES.
Sir, he knows!
ORTUĂO.
Old enough now to keep you waiting.
COMMANDER.
Does he know the man whoâs waiting
Is FernĂĄn GĂłmez de GuzmĂĄn?
FLORES.
Heâs nineteen, sir, donât be surprised.
COMMANDER.
He may have forgotten my name
But Iâm still his Chief Commander
And that title demands respect.
ORTUĂO.
Heâs surrounded by advisors
Saying, âGo on, keep him waiting.â
COMMANDER.
Heâll win few friends playing that game.
When you treat a man with respect
You build a bridge into his heart
When you treat a man with contempt
You make an enemy for life.
ORTUĂO.
If the discourteous man knew
How all his colleagues despise him
And dream of a thousand ways of
Making him grovel in the dirt
Wouldnât he rather end his days
Than go on living such a life?
FLORES.
A man like thatâs a total bore!
A vile, tedious waste of time!
When you treat an equal badly
You show the world youâre a fool
You treat those beneath you badly
You show the heart of a tyrant.
But in this case thereâs no offence
Just a boy who has yet to learn
The importance of courtesy.
COMMANDER.
The day they pinned the sacred cross
Of our crusade on his young breast
He swore an oath compelling him
To treat all men with courtesy.
FLORES.
Well, if heâs been briefed against you
Nowâs your chance to change his thinking.
ORTUĂO.
Look sharp, I can see him coming.
COMMANDER.
Time to find out what heâs made of.
Enter the GRAND MASTER, accompanied.
MASTER.
Don FernĂĄn GĂłmez de GuzmĂĄn
I humbly beg your forgiveness
I have only just been informed
Of your presence in Almagro.
COMMANDER.
I have good reason to feel wronged.
I had hoped my loyalty and my
Years of service would teach you
To treat me with respect: as youâre
The Grand Master of Calatrava
And I, your High Commander,
Am your servant and your slave.
MASTER.
I was not informed of your arrival,
Accept my apology, once more:
Accept my embrace.
COMMANDER.
You honour me
As you should, how often have I
Risked my life on your behalf
In these dangerous times?
And who intervened with His Holiness
When the question of your youth
Put your succession in doubt?
MASTER.
You did and I swear, by the cross
Which graces both our breasts, I am
Grateful for your loyal service
I honour you as a father.
COMMANDER.
My humble thanks, I am content.
MASTER.
Now, what news of the war?
COMMANDER.
Let me
Show you where the path of duty lies.
MASTER.
Speak, I am ready to listen.
COMMANDER.
Don Rodrigo TĂ©llez GirĂłn,
Grand Master of Calatrava:
I remember the day your father
Gave up that title and proposed
That you should succeed him.
I remember an eight-year-old boy
Swearing a vow of allegiance,
His election confirmed on oath
By a host of High Commanders,
Six anointed Kings, and Pius
The Holy Father of Rome.
I remember a boy of sixteen
Weeping as he buried his uncle,
His loyal regent, Juan Pacheco,
Grand Master of Santiago.
I watched that boy take up
The heavy burden of power
And today I address the youth
Who must make a manâs decision.
Since the death of King Enrique
One question has echoed through our land:
âWho should sit on the throne of Castile?â
Ferdinand, Great King of Aragon,
Makes his claim through his marriage
To Isabel, Enriqueâs sister.
But your family support Alfonso,
King of Portugal, and his claim
Thro...
