ACT I SCENE 1 (Mission cemetery. Night. Two Indian men, 1st and 2nd NEOPHYTE, bear a casket toward an open grave. Before them walk friars, 30s, and, 50s. The friars wear hooded gray Franciscan habits adorned with cross necklaces and rosaries. Three Indian women follow behind, carrying lit candles:, early 20s; LOLA, 40s; and, late teens. They wear blouses, skirts and black mourning veils; in addition, LOLA wears a rosary, and a cross necklace. Two soldiers - MARCELO, 30s, and PORFIRO, 20s stand guard nearby.), LOLA, (singing softly) In paradisum deducant te Angeli: In tuo adventu suscipiant te Martyres, Et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Jerusalem. (As 1st and 2nd NEOPHYTE lower the coffin into the grave, stands apart and lowers his hood to reveal his face youthful, but with the weary expression of an older man. When he speaks it is perfunctory, practiced, without emotion.) Christ the Savior, once didst thou promise, Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. By thy very voice was Lazarus stirred from the silence of the tomb, before Mary and Martha, his grieving sisters, and his cold heart coaxed to beat again. By that same sweet voice mayest thou welcome our brother, Hermano Diego, into thy kingdom. Though he was born a heathen, yet we have opened his heart to thee, and heard him repent of his barbarism. More fortunate is he to die here in his youth, than to have lived eighty years among the godless tribes. Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord; and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.
Amen. ALL BUT We shall have to expand the graveyard. (1st and 2nd NEOPHYTE begin to fill up the grave. The women hum softly. stands aside. approaches him.) Yes. Are you well, Padre Lazaro? Of course. I had measles as a child. Aye. Only the Indios die of it anyway. I meant that it must be difficult for a man of your youth to preside over so many burials. More than fifty this month alone... Death is no stranger to me, Padre Benedicto. Nor to any priest. But death becomes even more familiar with age - when one begins to feel its sleepy weight in his own limbs, and see its lines and shadows in the faces of his peers. I am sure it will be so. A pestilence that strikes their race alone...part of me fears this is God s justice. But it is difficult to watch so many of the pious die men like this one, who have genuinely given their souls to Christ. I only hope this is a convincing lesson for the...others. ( approaches.)
What do you want, Hermana? Lazaro Do not address me that way. Padre, we must speak A graveyard is no place for it. (LOLA pulls away.) Come, Maria! LOLA (1st and 2nd NEOPHYTES have completed the burial. They exit, followed by, LOLA,, MARCELO, and PORFIRO.) Goodnight, Padre Lazaro. Let us pray there will be no one to bury tomorrow. (Exit. lingers.) (quietly) And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die... (He wanders toward the grave. Now his voice trembles.) And yet Christ wept, before Lazarus tomb. The tears in Martha s mortal eyes brought forth the moisture in his own divine ones. I can make no sense of it. If the death of Lazarus were but a fleeting dormancy, his grave-clothes a mere sleeping gown, his happy revival moments away why did Christ weep? He ought to have smiled, laughed, mocked the mourning woman, like a father whose child grieves a broken plaything. What father ever wept along with the child? What was stinging thine eyes, O Lord? I prithee tell me it was but the dust of the desert. The truth alone
(Cont d) thine actions must reveal but what would follow if those tears were real? (Exit.) (END OF SCENE) SCENE 2 (Mission courtyard, day. and work at chores, grinding grain on flat stones. They wear their hair in long braids. absentmindedly hums the Coventry Carol. appears distracted, working very slowly.) At that rate you ll make one bowl of atole by Vespers. ( smiles weakly and makes a halfhearted attempt to speed up.) (Cont d) Maria, you re not feeling sick again, are you? No. People can t fall ill of it twice. (a pause) Lino is in the infirmary. Oh, Maria... The spots in his mouth came three days ago, like little red poppy seeds, and now they ve bloomed in his skin. I m sorry.
I thought he would recover like I did. But his fever keeps rising. You should be with him. Maestra won t allow me. That s unfair. Let s ask the padres; they ll understand No. (a pause) Maestra said she would call for me if... (softly, cautiously) Does his father know? No. Is his father...still living? ( does not respond.) (Cont d) I m sorry. I shouldn t poke my nose into your affairs your business. I don t like these funerals. (They grind corn in silence, each lost in her own thoughts.) Me neither. It frightens me to see dead people. I don t mind that. I mean the way we do it: burying them underground.