Death and the Maiden by Ariel Dorfman

Author:Ariel Dorfman [Dorfman, Ariel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780012209
Publisher: Nick Hern Books

Scene Two

Lunch. GERARDO and ROBERTO sit at a table. ROBERTO still tied, but this time with his hands in front. GERARDO has just finished serving plates of soup. PAULINA watches from the terrace. She can see but not hear them. ROBERTO and GERARDO remain for several silent instants looking at the food.

GERARDO. You’re not hungry, Doctor Miranda?

ROBERTO. Roberto. My name is Roberto. Please treat me with the same familiarity that you – please.

GERARDO. I’d rather speak to you as if you were a client, Doctor Miranda. That will help me out. I think you should eat something.

ROBERTO. I’m not hungry.

GERARDO. Let me . . .

He fills a spoon with soup and feeds ROBERTO as if he were a baby. During the conversation which follows, he is continually feeding ROBERTO and feeding himself:

ROBERTO. She’s mad. You’ll have to excuse me for saying this, Gerardo, but your wife . . .

GERARDO. Bread?

ROBERTO. No, thanks.

Brief pause.

She should be receiving some sort of psychiatric treatment for –

GERARDO. To put it brutally, you are her therapy, Doctor.

He cleans ROBERTO’s mouth with a napkin.

ROBERTO. She’s going to kill me.

GERARDO. Unless you confess, she’ll kill you.

ROBERTO. But what can I confess? What can I confess if I . . . ?

PAULINA. You may be aware, Doctor, that the secret police used some doctors as – consultants in torture sessions . . .

ROBERTO. The medical association gradually learned of these situations, and looked into them wherever possible.

GERARDO. She is convinced that you are that doctor who . . . And unless you have a way of denying it . . .

ROBERTO. How could I deny it? I’d have to change my voice, prove that this is not my voice – if it’s only my voice which damns me, there’s no other evidence, nothing that –

GERARDO. And your skin. She mentioned your skin.

ROBERTO. My skin?

GERARDO. And your smell.

ROBERTO. Fantasies of a diseased mind. She could have latched onto any man who came through that door . . .

GERARDO. Unfortunately, you came through that door.

ROBERTO. Look, Gerardo, I’m a quiet man. Anyone can see that I’m incapable of violence – violence of any sort sickens me. I come to my beach house, I wander on the beach, I watch the waves, I hunt for pebbles, I listen to my music – . . .

GERARDO. Schubert?

ROBERTO. Schubert, there’s no reason to feel ashamed. I also like Vivaldi and Mozart and Telemann. And I had the stupid idea of bringing Schubert to the beach yesterday. But it was much more stupid to stop for you – Gerardo, I’m in this mess only because I felt sorry for some lunatic waving his arms next to his broken-down car – Look, it’s up to you to get me out of here.

GERARDO. I know.

ROBERTO. My ankles hurt, my hands, my back. Couldn’t you untie me a little, so –

GERARDO. Roberto, I want to be honest with you. There is only one way to save your life . . .

Brief pause.

I think we have to – indulge her.

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