THE EARTH: They’ve left you alone.
THE MAN: What a nice feeling; it’s been a long time.
THE EARTH: Now the curious people will come look at you.
THE MAN: I’m accustomed to it; for many years, that was one of the most important activities of my life.
THE EARTH: I want to see you like this, too; what’s left of you. You always walked all over me hastily, with a bothersome unrest. You only seemed to enjoy it from the highest peak, believing you had me under your control.
THE MAN: Don’t say that . . .
THE EARTH: I heard you talk about me so many times! In public, before the crowds, you acted like my most tender friend; with politicians, you sought to exploit me; in front of academics you posed as an admirer of my vast beauty. And you’ve never seen me before! Now you’re discovering me; you’re astonished because I am simple, plain, and hard, when you thought I was complicated and winding.
THE MAN: You exaggerate . . .
THE EARTH: No need to feel uneasy. I know; you’re so unaccustomed to being spoken to in this tone and not being the center of attention . . . But you must get used to it; moving forward you’ll be here, still, helpless, motionless. And you will be the anxious witness to things that are done without your intervention, against your will.
THE MAN: Why this torture?
THE EARTH: It’s the revenge of other men.
THE MAN: I always wanted what was best.
THE EARTH: Drop that tone of entitlement. You can’t fool me. The times I have trembled haven’t been at your command.
THE MAN: You’re cruel.
THE EARTH: I’m just. Like you, all of the great men from every nation have come to dialogue with me in the end, and every one of them was sure of his importance. But be quiet; someone’s coming.
(Two young lovers come to contemplate the statue.)
HIM: It looks a lot like him, doesn’t it?
HER: I never met him.
HIM: I saw him on a few occasions. Once, I got very close to him and he greeted me warmly, taking off his hat. He was so polite.
HER: Who made this?
HIM: A talented young sculptor. His politician uncle pulled some strings to have the work commissioned.
HER: I was at the inauguration. Such long speeches . . . but so many soldiers all elegant in their luxurious uniforms . . . And the women! There was one with an adorable hat.
HIM: This park is beautiful.
HER: Gorgeous. Let’s sit on that bench. You want to?
HIM: Sure.
HER: Don’t think about him anymore. Remember, I’m by your side.
HIM: You’re so silly.
HER: Maybe it’s better to sit over there, behind him.
HIM: Why?
HER: Because . . .
HIM: . . . you don’t want to kiss me in his presence?
HER: What a thought! Here (she kisses him.), for what it’s worth.
(The lovers sit on the bench situated behind the statue.)
THE EARTH: Did you hear?
THE MAN: Yes. They talked about me.
THE EARTH: And they’ve already forgotten you. Now they’re enjoying their love in my park.
THE MAN: Our park . . . If it hadn’t been for me it wouldn’t have built.
THE EARTH: Perhaps you’re right. Those who decorate my face aren’t the ones who admire my beauty, but the ones who exploit it. You, however . . .
THE MAN: No more; enough. You’re unfair; all the time I spent standing on your back was at groundbreakings and ribbon cuttings of works to glorify you.
THE EARTH: Then why did you dedicate plaques with your name on them?
THE MAN: You’re unbearable.
THE EARTH: Look who’s talking. I’m the one bearing you. But don’t worry; now with your metal suit, you’re lighter than ever.
(Pause.)
THE MAN: I can’t see you. They’ve set my eyes at an absurd height. But I feel you, green and brown, and your eternal fragrance comes to me, made of every scent combined. It’s true. I’m discovering you now. I’m filled with crazy desires to feel you. I’ve never held you in my hands. I was a man condemned to feel through kid gloves that have now been transformed into iron mittens.
THE EARTH: Now? What about that iron fist your admirers speak of?
THE MAN: My hand was hard but agile. It moved against the wind to frame my words. It pounded, signed, demanded, ordered, inflexible and sure. Don’t mock it. It guided a people and pointed the way to a bright future.
THE EARTH: You still believe in yourself. What would’ve become of that hand without the thousands of hands that were always behind it, supporting it? They rose before you, but came from a warm, close contact with me, and because they returned to me, never saw your crooked right hand and sinister left hand arguing at the grim crossroads of deception.
THE MAN: You’re trying to make me appear worse than I am.
THE EARTH: I want you to forget what you were and be what you are now.
(Two farm workers approach.)
FARM WORKER 1: Here it is.
FARM WORKER 2: Exactly, exactly. It’s just like the portrait we have.
FARM WORKER 1: He deserved a statue.
FARM WORKER 2: Take off your hat.
FARM WORKER 1: What a loss! He is sorely missed.
FARM WORKER 2: Remember when he came to our town?
FARM WORKER 1: He listened to our complaints and our wishes and smiled.
FARM WORKER 2: Keep off the grass; it’s so pretty.
FARM WORKER 1: But look over there; they’ve destroyed it.
FARM WORKER 2: It was the bigwigs from the ceremony.
FARM WORKER 1: Do you remember the hug he gave our priest?
FARM WORKER 2: And when he reached out his hand to Matthew?
FARM WORKER 1: Matthew’s hand was covered in soil; he’d just sown the potatoes . . .
FARM WORKER 2: He was so good . . .
FARM WORKER 1: He said he was thinking of us at all times.
FARM WORKER 2: And he promised us . . .
FARM WORKER 1: The hospital . . .
FARM WORKER 2: That he couldn’t build . . .
FARM WORKER 1: The aqueduct . . .
FARM WORKER 2: They haven’t started the work . . .
FARM WORKER 1: But if he hadn’t died . . .
FARM WORKER 2: Ah, yes. If he hadn’t died . . .
(The farmer workers move away.)
THE EARTH: What do you say now?
THE MAN: Nothing.
THE EARTH: These people had faith in you. They’re your friends.
THE MAN: No, they’re yours. They smelled dirty. They came from you and returned to you. Matthew gave me a dirty handshake.
THE EARTH: Dirty?
THE MAN: Excuse me. Covered in soil and water.
THE EARTH: You promised them . . .
THE MAN: Silence. All of my promises were sincere . . .
THE EARTH: Definitely.
THE MAN: As promises.
THE EARTH: That’s what I thought.
THE MAN: The wind hits my face.
THE EARTH: It’s been your best friend.
THE MAN: Why?
THE EARTH: It’s swept away unpleasant memories.
THE MAN: Don’t talk like that. I don’t want to argue with you.
THE EARTH: Fine.
THE MAN: It seems like I have new ears. Before I only heard noise, but now I hear murmurs and whispers.
THE EARTH: After seventy years . . .
THE MAN: Life is simpler than I imagined. Now I see it up close; it reaches me in waves of warmth and wrapped in laughter . . .
THE EARTH: Do you think perhaps they put you here so you’d stop being what you were? You have a symbolic mission; you’re an example, a beacon, a path, an end. Keep your seriousness. There’s a reason the sculptor wiped the tranquility of death off your face.
THE MAN: Everyone’s focused on themselves, on their simple problems and joys. The big things are those little things.
THE EARTH: Be careful.
THE MAN: I see the leaves of the trees soaring, blown off by the wind.
THE EARTH: Deforestation was one of your platform issues, yet you failed to get the bill passed.
THE MAN: Listen, listen closely; that man is walking home whistling, and carefree; he is happy, happy . . .
THE EARTH: He’s a tax collector.
THE MAN: Impossible!
THE EARTH: A few minutes ago he seized the property of a widow.
THE MAN: But he’s smiling.
THE EARTH: He’s forgotten about work.
THE MAN: He’s saluting me.
THE EARTH: He’s thanking you for giving him a thankless job.
THE MAN: Let me forget.
THE EARTH: So soon? That would be too easy. The praise of four fiery speakers is still ringing in your ears.
THE MAN: I realize now the rhythm of life is slower than I’d thought.
THE EARTH: Well! It’s about time.
THE MAN: Politics is so hurried!
THE EARTH: And yet it took them forever to make this park . . .
THE MAN: So much talk about problems and decisions!
THE EARTH: And there are parts of my body that are dying of thirst . . .
THE MAN: So much shuffling of names on the payroll . . .
THE EARTH: Yours was on it for fifty years . . .
THE MAN: Such an outburst of ambitions . . .
THE EARTH: And yet the sun always rises at the same time.
THE MAN: You have a quick response for everything.
THE EARTH: That was one of your most brilliant qualities.
(Pause. Two politicians approach.)
POLITICIAN 1: Yes, we can see it now.
POLITICIAN 2: It wouldn’t have been prudent to come during the ceremony.
POLITICIAN 1: We would have been criticized.
POLITICIAN 2: You fought him relentlessly.
POLITICIAN 1: So did you.
POLITICIAN 2: He had admirable qualities and tremendous defects.
POLITICIAN 1: He was spiteful.
POLITICIAN 2: He was partisan.
POLITICIAN 1: He was unrelenting.
POLITICIAN 2: And temperamental.
POLITICIAN 1: Here’s his disdainful gesture.
POLITICIAN 2: You owe him a favor . . .
POLITICIAN 1: No, I paid him promptly with silence.
POLITICIAN 2: He never did anything for me . . .
POLITICIAN 1: He gave you belligerence. Without it, the media wouldn’t have covered you.
POLITICIAN 2: We are all bound to him, by friendship or by rancor.
POLITICIAN 1: His best years of struggle were our biggest days of triumph.
POLITICIAN 2: But he always won.
POLITICIAN 1: Without defeating us.
POLITICIAN 2: It didn’t suit him. He needed us to have someone to argue with and demonstrate his strength.
POLITICIAN 1: And thanks to him, our names are at the top of the polls.
POLITICIAN 2: He was a great adversary.
POLITICIAN 1: Loyal.
POLITICIAN 2: Gentlemanly.
POLITICIAN 1: They’ve made him a beautiful park.
POLITICIAN 2: How much did it cost?
POLITICIAN 1: Who was the contractor?
POLITICIAN 2: We have to find out; I’m afraid that . . .
POLITICIAN 1: Ah, it’s possible, it’s quite possible . . . this might be a free park. It’s immoral.
POLITICIAN 2: Let’s go.
(They leave.)
