I, The Worst of Dragons
by Benjamín Gavarre
Followed by an interpretation and analysis:
Although we may recognize a king, a queen, a dragon, and a maiden, we must always keep in mind, if we want to stage this play, that the characters operate within a pretentious, petty-bourgeois household where they perform the daily tasks typical of their insufferable class.
The set design or lighting will therefore recreate the different environments of a home: the living room, the kitchen, the garden, the bedroom, etc.
For costumes, I recommend: a low-cut, sequined evening gown for the Queen; a tuxedo for the King; a tuxedo and metallic mask for the Dragon; countless dresses for the Maiden (you'll see why); a frock coat for the Page; and chef's outfits for the Wizard and the Fairy.
For music, I suggest a genre that supports the caricaturization of the situations.
Characters:
The King
The Queen
Wizard
Fairy
The Dragon Prince
The Page
The Maiden
The Shepherd
Old Woman
*** I ***
As the play begins, the King and Queen are in the garden preparing a barbecue. The Queen is pregnant, and the King is drinking a Cuba Libre. Despite the apparent harmony and tender glances towards the royal belly, the King and Queen erupt into an open argument the moment they sit down on a bench.
The King. — It'll be a boy!
The Queen. — It can't be anything else, my lord, but a girl!
The King. — A boy!
The Queen. — A girl!
The King. — My lady, I hold your pleas in high esteem; and for reasons that need not be discussed: a brave prince shall be our heir.
The Queen. — You speak of reasons? But all you can manage is an obvious string of nonsense. And while you may decide matters of state better than anyone, in matters of pregnancy, I decide. The one who will wield the royal scepter in the future will be the sweet princess I'll have in a few days. She will, make no mistake, be a sublime sovereign, and no one will dare deny or refute her anything because she will be, without hesitation, a true lady.
The King. — It's clear, my dear, that on this singular point, we'll never agree; let's call the Grand Commission, let them decide.
The Queen. — Is Your Majesty joking? You are the Grand Commission! In any case, let's call the Fairy, and if you wish, the Wizard too, who are utterly irreproachable and, let's say, unbribable.
The King. — Let the Fairy and Wizard come, come now; with such forces summoned, we'll know without a doubt, from the many disputes that arise from them, whether the royal womb should give birth to a prince or a princess.
The Wizard and Fairy enter. They discuss in barely contained whispers, looking at the King and Queen with apprehension or disgust. Finally, they reach an agreement and express their verdict.
Wizard. — If a future king or prince benefits the kingdom, Her Majesty, the Sovereign, shall eat a red rose.
Fairy. — If a princess is better, she shall taste a white rose.
Wizard. — For such a procedure, an impartial arbiter...
The Queen. — I disagree! How can someone outside our empire decide?
The King. — True. You, Wizard, Fairy... you should have resolved the situation. Now it will be by choice, mine. Eat! (He gives her the red rose).
The Queen. — Oh, really? Well, no! I'll eat the white one. Give it here! (She tries to take the white rose from the Wizard).
Wizard. — You haven't let us finish. The judge would be...
The King. — Nobody!
The Queen. — On that, I agree.
Wizard. — It would be Chance.
Fairy. — In this, yes, Chance would decide. "Her Majesty choose"...
The Queen. — Let's see...
The King. — I refuse to yield to any luck the clear right to impose my will. Let's say: if the Queen desires a colossal virgin and I a discreet male...
Wizard. — The other way around, Your Majesty.
The King. — What do you mean, the other way around?
Fairy. — A discreet virgin and a monumental male.
The King. — Oh, yes. Let's say, of the two, the Queen will taste the red rose and a colossal male will be welcomed into this, my empire.
The Queen. — And finally, I say, why shouldn't I eat both roses in one bite? And so each ambition will be fulfilled in each case.
The King. — I don't understand.
The Queen. — You desire a daring prince who will occupy the throne in the future; and I, a sweet girl...
The King. — ...who will occupy the royal throne in the future.
The Queen. — Allow me... I would, without a doubt, let the firstborn govern.
The King. — Well, you're not doing me any favors; it's the custom for the cousin to govern... Would you really let him govern?
The Queen. — Yes.
The King. — Without any interference?
The Queen. — I can assure you.
The King. — So be it! You shall eat of both roses...
The Queen. — Both.
The King. — (To the Wizard and Fairy) Do you have everything ready?
The Wizard and Fairy discuss agitatedly and then give a verdict.
Wizard. — We absolutely do not advise that the Queen entertain, with royal permission, even the mere thought of tasting the white and red roses one after another, and even less, at the same time.
Fairy. — A disastrous catastrophe would strike the Queen in any case; in another, it would also harm the King, and the most terrible case, the one we all fear: misfortune would afflict the entire kingdom.
The King. — Given that circumstance: it will be a boy. Let's not discuss the point any further. Eat the red rose.
The Queen. — Mhh... I'll do so, if it benefits the kingdom. (She eats the red rose).
The King. — The solution pleases and calms me. I go to rest well-disposed. Providence will be generous with us, and with our son. (King, Wizard, and Fairy exit).
The Queen. — But I say it seems like a good idea not to abandon this budding flower, this white rose, to a miserable fate. I do not fear misfortune. If a child, a... male, brings us good fortune, how much more joy will we have if, in a double birth, prince and princess share the same cradle? Come, maiden; begin your noble birth in my mouth. (She eats the white flower... and a powerful light and sound effect engulfs the scene).
*** II ***
The royal bedroom.
Several weeks have passed. The Fairy and Wizard give the Queen a small bundle: a small Dragon Baby of whom only the tail is seen. The Queen breastfeeds him sweetly. The King smokes and drinks.
The King. — ...A Dragon! A Dragon! A Dragon!... Have you ever seen such a thing! You've birthed a cursed offspring, my sweet lady.
The Queen. — Let's say that both dignitaries forged him; you are, don't argue, his illustrious father.
The King. — A worthy father, but an ignoble son. And I don't know whether the Queen committed adultery, or with whom, perhaps with a servant?
The Queen. — Hush, speaking of servants, and even more of maidservants, I could tell you endless misdeeds about you. The child is yours. Don't forget that night, long ago, when you were drunk and I was naked, we pursued lust with great zeal.
The King. — Don't dwell on it, it's shameful.
The Queen. — Then don't deny the Dragon, he's your son.
The King. — I won't.
The Queen. — And I, in turn, will confess a secret, for... I tasted the red rose.
The King. — I know that, I know, I know.
The Queen. — Well, I have more to tell...
The King. — Don't tell me.
The Queen. — I also tasted the white rose.
The King. — Oh, you brute!
The Queen. — Don't insult my sweet office.
The King. — The truth is we'll have to find a remedy for this situation. The Dragon Child, or whatever he is, grows like a malignant tumor, day by day.
*** III ***
In the living room.
Twenty days have passed. The Dragon is now a prince, a menacing and rebellious twenty-year-old. (If there's money, he can enter on a motorcycle). The Page cleans the household silverware while receiving orders.
The Dragon Prince. — And there's more, Page: if you don't do as I've ordered, I'll kill my father, flog my mother with a thousand lashes, and make this kingdom's misfortune an unforgettable legend and example.
The Page. — But, my lord, my Dragon Prince, there's no maiden in this home, nor even in a distant place, who would agree to sleep with you, you're so ugly!
The Dragon Prince. — Fool! I know I am, and yet I tell you: I want a maiden, and not just any maiden. Bring me the purest and most delicate virgin from this kingdom, or from any distant or inaccessible territory.
The Page. — If you insist, I'll organize a contest; with the permission, of course, of His Majesty, my sovereign King.
The King arrives.
The King. — Here I am, who requires my sound judgment? Perhaps this singular young man? Congratulations, son, you were born twenty days ago and it seems twenty years have passed since the joyous occasion of your birth.
The Dragon Prince. — It's true I turned twenty, oh, Pharisee father; my time is so different from the one you waste, so senseless. I will not be more patient with you than with the servant: bring me a maiden, for I wish to marry her. If you don't... I will destroy your castle, and I will kill you without mercy and with various torments.
The King. — You want to marry? You bring news that fills my soul with various joys. Have you already chosen the fortunate bride?
The Page. — She must be, my monarch, the purest and most delicate virgin living near or far from this kingdom.
The Dragon Prince. — You bring her to me, for in your judgment, sick or sane, I trust. If the choice doesn't satisfy me, I assure you I will leave your body without eyes or arms.
The King. — No more talk, my sweet prince; I will send for the most beautiful, the most virginal of maidens.
*** IV ***
In the kitchen: The King and Queen decorate a cake to celebrate their son's anniversary. The King applies frosting, and the Queen, cherries. At some point, the Queen gets fed up with not being able to do her work smoothly and confronts her husband.
The Queen. — Such an atrocity has never been seen! So wicked, so vile is your son that he has cut short the life of such a fresh, radiant young woman! How could fate be so dire with us, that we must live under the terror of one who should elevate our lineage?
The King. — You speak not of atrocities, for by following the path of whim, you have broken the harmony that Providence granted for so long.
The Queen. — I don't understand: do you call my good intentions a whim?
The King. — Yes.
The Queen. — But, my dear... If you think for a moment... If I had given birth to a prince, a conventional male, and not to... a dragon, he would have already gone to war; if I had given birth to a graceful maiden, she would have married one day without remedy, moving away from the kingdom.
The King. — You weren't saying the same thing a few days ago; you wanted a virgin to govern this castle, and what did you achieve? The union of two opposites is this hermaphrodite dragon. He is neither man nor woman: he is a ruin.
The Queen. — He is a man, without a doubt; he has devoured, without further ado, a maiden.
The King. — He devoured her?
The Queen. — Oh yes, didn't you know?
The King. — Oh, atrocity! And it's your fault. By eating those two roses, you only managed to summon a monster of wickedness. With bad intentions, you wanted to keep the cake, and the money too.
The King. — What money are you talking about?
The King. — Let's drop this matter, for the prince is approaching.
The couple feigns harmony. The prince arrives and separates them. He will try to kiss the Queen or touch her backside. He will push the King away.
The Dragon Prince. — Long live the King, long live my kind mother too.
The Queen. — Oh, my tender prince; certainly your complexion hasn't improved with your weddings.
The Dragon Prince. — No, mother; nor will it improve if my next wishes aren't fulfilled like a flash.
The King. — More whims, devoted son? Wasn't the night you spent with that unfortunate peasant girl enough?
The Dragon Prince. — Was she? Now I understand her taste, for I enjoyed for a second the clean and warm peace of the countryside.
The Queen. — My offspring, don't be shameless.
The Dragon Prince. — I am what I want to be, dear mother; I am flesh and blood, I am a dragon, and my face will not change with twenty or more maidens reaching my mouth.
The Queen. — Oh, son.
The King. — You are... an abortion, a monster, a barbarian!
The Dragon Prince. — You give me no new news, father; I, on the other hand, have already hinted at a task for you.
The King. — Well, I don't understand allusions, son. State your request clearly.
The Dragon Prince. — I demand, nothing more, another maiden.
The King. — You will have what you desire if you promise that you will marry her and, of course, that you will not gobble her up.
The Dragon Prince. — I don't promise, but warn, sweet father; if I don't have her in my bed tonight... I'll tear off your head, cut off your legs, and then burn the castle. As for you, mother, I'll have to take out your eyes and give you, of course, a thousand lashes.
The King. — It will be as you wish.
The Dragon Prince. — You are so kind, oh, father. Mother...
The Queen. — May Providence accompany you.
The Dragon Prince. — So it will, for I am, without a doubt, for you, at least while I live, Providence itself.
*** V ***
In the living room.
The Page and the Queen "knitting."
The Page. — And there have been over forty already! At first, they were willing, of course; a prince is not something to be disdained... But when the indiscretion of several revealed the... mishaps... well, ladies, out of fear, or acute panic, flatly refused to, let's say, "sleep" with the dragon.
The Queen. — The Prince.
The Page. — The Prince, yes... but upon learning that his excellence, your son, is more dragon than prince, none have been willing to "give up the goods"... no matter how much I've offered, I mean, not a thousand maravedís, no, not even doubloons or gold pieces have they accepted.
The Queen. — Well, someone will have to sacrifice herself for the good of the Kingdom; and more so, the prince, His Highness, has threatened to flay his father alive and then force me, oh unfortunate me, to wear the royal garment, as if it were the skin of an animal, a fox, a kid, you know... Oh heavens!, a coat made of my husband's skin! Have you ever heard of such a thing!
The Page. — Don't forget that as always, after finishing with you, he would continue with the castle, and with us, the very simple mortals.
The Queen. — That, let's say, would also be a shame. That's why I ask you to hurry with your task, and efficiently obtain...
The Page. — A maiden, a lady, a virgin! Where will I find one? Oh, here comes the King...
The King enters and sits. He then speaks while lecherously looking at pornographic magazines. The Queen will try to take them away from him.
The King. — I know a girl, Page; not very well, let's say, I've seen her... She's a shepherdess... very beautiful; yes... absolutely beautiful. Perhaps if I myself went to look for her and brought her here to the castle...
The Queen. — A shepherdess? You yourself? Absolutely beautiful? I don't think it's a good idea, this business.
The King. — Perhaps it will be just, Queen; the Page has shown ineptitude and negligence in this task of finding young women.
The Page. — Well, since you, it seems, are an expert both in maidens and, I suppose, also in autumnal ladies, you will certainly find the most discreet young woman to gladden the deranged dragon, thus avoiding your death and, of course, the Queen having to wear the most luxurious garment, your skin.
The King. — It will be good, then, for me to begin right away, quickly, this audacious diligence...
The Queen. — I disagree. In any case, if it pleases you, I myself am resolved to accompany you. A retinue of fifteen ladies, fifteen knights... a carriage, twenty-eight horses will be necessary. We'll have to bring some food. It will also be necessary to bring some provisions, for example...
The King. — Nothing. I'll leave right now, and this Page, for all he's worth, will be my company. Let's go, Page.
The Queen. — Come here, apprentice ruler. If you dare to cross the castle gates without my consent and company, I am capable of... King, beloved lord... Come here... Don't even dream of approaching any maiden with bad intentions. Wait for me! King!... Bastard!
*** VI ***
On a city street. The King and the Page are whipping a beggar.
The King. — So... how much will you ask for your daughter?
The Shepherd. — You are the King; you can force me to give you my life if necessary.
The Page. — That's true, Majesty. Why don't you torture him, and he'll surely tell us where he's hiding her.
The Shepherd. — I've already told you I didn't hide her. She must have gone underground, disfigured her face with vitriol to avoid being recognized, fled to other distant lands, gone mad, become a harlot, a pagan, lost, a courtesan, a tramp, a prostitute... Oh, my daughter!
The Page. — This one deserves nothing but lashes; he's insulting your future daughter-in-law.
The King. — Hit him hard.
The Page. — Kneel, you bastard.
The Shepherd. — Ow!
The King. — Confess! Where is the girl?
The Shepherd. — Her kingdom is no longer of this world!
The King. — What do you mean?... Has the unfortunate girl... died?
The Page. — Don't you see he's lying, Majesty. He wants to trick you, tell you a story.
The King. — In that case... hit him harder!
The Shepherd. — Owww! (He faints).
The "Maiden" enters, a woman over thirty dressed in rags.
The Maiden. — Enough, my father. Don't sacrifice your aged body any more for me. I'm not worth it. Lord King, Your Majesty, tell your servant to stop.
The King. — Servant, stop.
The Page. — My lord, I am a royal page of your kingdom, an illustrious page, almost a prime minister... Do not allow a vile shepherdess to call me a servant.
The King. — That shepherdess will be my daughter-in-law, as you yourself stated a while ago. My dear future relative... You know why I've come; let's save words, follow me, for you will soon meet your illustrious consort.
The Maiden. — I will come myself and by my own accord; only allow me to staunch the wounds on my father that you yourself caused.
The King. — That seems to me a sign of nobility; is this girl worthy of my royal trust?
The Page. — Don't you see she's a peasant?
The Maiden. — Look, look at my father fainted; he's alone, prostrate on the ground.
The King. — Well, my daughter, you must remember that you have an inescapable appointment with Us; if you don't come, you will violate the main codes of urbanity... And what will people think of you? That I am a miserable wretch as the page said? Unworthy of any respect, unworthy of being the future wife of the Dragon Prince... of the prince heir to everything... of him who?...
The Maiden. — I will not fail, sovereign king; I swear it by the most precious of your descendants, your future grandchildren that I, I swear, will have with your son...
The Page. — But...
The King. — Of course, daughter... My grandchildren... So we have reached an agreement. I await you in the castle; now attend to your father.
The Maiden. — I will do so. (King and Page exit). Father... Father... Wake up, father. Papa... It's time for you to wake up, the King has gone. Oh, my father, why are you so bluish? Why aren't you breathing? Perhaps... Oh! The unfortunate man has died!
*** VII ***
The "Maiden" wanders through the city streets. She encounters an "Old Psychoanalyst," disguised as a beggar.
The Maiden. — Woe is me! My father... whipped to death. My destiny... in the hands of a wicked prince who will strip me of life, dreams... of my immaculate virginity, so ardently guarded until now. What should I do, I, so helpless an orphan, so needing the smallest affection?
Old Woman. — Don't suffer, child, I will help you.
The Maiden. — You? And why would a miserable old woman help me? You don't inspire, I tell you, the slightest trust.
Old Woman. — Yes, child, I assure you, I have worked in various and renowned businesses.
The Maiden. — Name one.
Old Woman. — It's not my place to divulge such entanglements; they are secrets of people like you, who, driven by endless problems, without apparent solution, have come to me seeking serenity for their conscience and, let's say, above all, for their unconscious.
The Maiden. — You speak truly in profound terms, are you an astrologer perhaps?
Old Woman. — I am not, but I know the paths that those whose condition is hindered by a dark shadow must traverse.
The Maiden. — Oh...
Old Woman. — Such beings are subjected to a kind of enchantment or curse that makes them harm others, with great pain, believe me, for themselves.
The Maiden. — A Curse? Is that the cause of my immense suffering? Oh heavens! But... as far as I know, I haven't done harm to any person, animal, or thing... at least, I don't have, no, I don't have that idea.
Old Woman. — I wasn't speaking of you, but of the Dragon Prince, who is under the malign influence of a spell. He will continue to torment all the children of this kingdom until a pure and simple soul like yours arrives.
The Maiden. — Curious help you grant me, old lady. My entire life is threatened by that fearsome beast, and yet you want to help the criminal and not the victim.
Old Woman. — Rest assured. You will only be the instrument that ends his sorrow, you will break the spell he is under. At the same time that you save him from the curse, you will find the happiness that pity grants... And above all: your life will be out of all danger.
The Maiden. — Oh, come on... And what should I do? Give him poison, strangle him, break him into a thousand pieces?...
Old Woman. — One of the best methods is to dismember him, certainly, but do you think you're capable?
The Maiden. — Not exactly.
Old Woman. — Well, it will be preferable to choose subtle, seductive arts. You must feign passionate love for the Prince, to slowly strip him of each of his nine skins.
The Maiden. – What are you saying?
Old Woman. — Listen and don't interrupt me. For your wedding night, you will wear ten, ten dresses of majestic fabric, one on top of the other. When the dragon tries to undress you, you must reply that you yourself will do so, but that he, in turn, must remove one of the garments covering him. You will do this until you have removed nine dresses, at which point the dragon will have nothing left to take off and you will still be covered.
The Maiden. — That is, he will be naked and I... Oh, Immaculate Virgin!
Old Woman. — Quiet and pay attention...
When the Dragon is naked, he will be completely at your mercy. Now, if you truly wish to end the curse upon him, you must perform other feats... Are you ready?
The Maiden. — Yes.
Old Woman. — Well then, listen carefully.
*** VIII ***
Days later, somewhere in the house, before "the wedding" begins.
The Page. — And there's more, Your Lordship... The very... Maiden... sent for certain garments for tonight, which, to tell the truth, seem like something for a horrendous mass. She's ordered ten, ten dresses!, made of the purest, whitest fabric. Furthermore... oak branches, or hazel?... soaked in lye.
The King. — Lye?
The Page. — Soap, Your Majesty, a heresy. That's not to mention several liters of boiling, sweetened milk, which I can't figure out what it's for, unless it's for something atrocious... With all that, I could well think she's a witch and that she dares to inflict some terrible harm on your son.
The King. — I can't believe such stories... In any case, remember that the terrifying creature, my son, hasn't behaved very well, shall we say. And she's so beautiful, so fresh.
The Page. — I wouldn't say so much. And I'll say more, she's a servant.
The King. — Well, I'll succinctly say for you to shut up and quickly scram for "the lovebirds" because the ceremony is about to begin.
The Page. — I'm off at once, Your Majesty.
The King. — And tell the Queen to hurry.
The Page. — Yes.
*** IX ***
In the "church," which is actually the house chapel ("keeping it all in the family"), the King and Queen await the bride and groom and the officiant, the Page, who will obviously be disguised as an apostolic cardinal.
The Queen. — Oh, Your Majesty, weddings excite me so much! How many memories such events awaken in me! Once, you yourself, a little younger, and I, a little more beautiful, lived these moments of celebration, of joy, which no doubt our son and his future wife will know how to appreciate as they should.
The King. — But, my lady... If we didn't know that such nuptials would be followed by mourning for the bride, dead, vanished in our son's fierce stomach the very night they should have enjoyed their new bonds; if, at least, the girl were to become the future queen, happy mother of our longed-for grandchildren... then I would be very willing to enjoy these events...
The Queen. — Ah, of course, it's a shame. But look... Here come "the lovebirds"... Let the musicians play a singular march!... (A Funeral March is heard) Bravo! Long live the bride and groom! Long live our kingdom!
The Page-Priest. — We are gathered here before the highest dignitaries of this empire, as well as before immaculate witnesses, all of them capable of recognizing the noble marriage of you, children: An adorable maiden and a... Dragon Prince, Your Highness, whose merits I would not dare to itemize, for they are so many and varied that... From the beginnings of History we have known how to appreciate...
The Dragon Prince. — Yes, yes... fewer words, Page-Parish Priest. What's next? A kiss, isn't it? Come, maiden... Receive my sweet kisses from my love.
The Prince pursues the maiden, with obvious sexual intent.
The Maiden. — No! I certainly prefer to dance a piece with you.
Music plays. While the King, Queen, and Page dance a curious, very simple choreography; the Dragon Prince performs an obscene, almost pornographic routine in front of the maiden.
The King. — But look, the dance is over, let's give our good wishes to the newlyweds.
The Queen. — Oh, children, what an... original dance yours was. Why don't we make a toast to your happiness and then you delight us with another display of your singular dance?
The Dragon Prince. — Nothing!
The King and The Page. — That's right, a toast!
The Dragon Prince. — I said, Nothing!
The Maiden. — But, my Highness... Wouldn't you like to celebrate, with your parents, our happy and surely auspicious meeting?
The Prince, furious, growls menacingly. Everyone walks, trying to find a safe place. Finally, the "Beast" grabs his "new wife" by the hair and says to her:
The Dragon Prince. — Don't you see I can't stand these environments! Foolish woman, don't you understand that what I want is to go, without further ado, to our bedchamber?
The Maiden. — You're so romantic!
The Dragon Prince. — Shut up and follow me in an instant. If you don't come like a flash to my room, I will drag your body to the tower, there I will tear out your hair, burn your eyes, and then slowly devour your entrails; finally, I will throw your bleeding, pitiful torso into the castle moat, for food, yes, for my dearest brothers, the reptiles. (The Dragon Prince exits).
The Maiden. — Ladies and gentlemen, excuse me, it's been a great pleasure.
The King. — Goodbye, girl.
The Queen. — See you later.
The Page. — Goodbye.
*** IX ***
In the Young Man's "bedroom"...
The Dragon enters carrying the maiden. He doesn't know where to "put her" and sets her down for a moment, then goes for a "bed." He places it on the floor and lies down, inviting the Maiden, lecherously.
The Maiden. — Sweet lord, since my end is near... I know, for I am not unfamiliar with your deadly amorous arts... Grant me, I beg you, this wish...
The Dragon Prince. — No request will be heard. Lie on the bed, for I am determined to finish with you, and with your futile attempts to prevent it.
The Maiden. — I will do so without a doubt, I promise you; but... It would cause singular delight, in me, if you were to cast aside your clothes, and then I, too, would remove this bothersome dress from my body.
The Dragon Prince. — It seems you are ready to enjoy this adventure, which, at least for you, will be your last. I will divest myself of my clothes, which are a singular wrapping as you know. (He takes off his jacket).
The Maiden. — Now I will take off my shirt. Thus, naked, you will see that I am the faithful lover you had always desired. (She takes off the first dress).
The Dragon Prince. — But I see no, even when I lean close to that voluptuous body, vestiges of skin or sweat, are you perhaps made of cloth? Is your sweet skin made of cotton, my maiden?
The Maiden. — No more than you, my Highness, are covered in strange membranes. What is this hard skin if not? What can be underneath?
The Prince Dragon. — (Takes off his shoes) You will discover that this skin contains more sensuality than you could have imagined. But what's happening? You must, in turn, take off that garment, that impure dress that covers your body, what are you waiting for?
The Maiden. — (Second dress) There. And we continue as before, for I couldn't say if what I see is the covering of a fish, or a lizard, or a snake... You show nothing but something like the scaly skin of... a dragon, after all.
The Dragon Prince. — Well, what were you expecting! For my part, I can only discern a fabric that entangles me, and that wants to make me fall. Confess, what sorcery are you plotting!
The Maiden. — Oh seductive mystery! Oh lamentable spell!
The Dragon Prince. — You yourself speak of enchantments, Witch? I will finish with you and your malign arts! Come to me, for I will swallow you!
The Maiden. — End me, my beloved, for I do not wish to fight with you, who are undoubtedly my destiny, my love, my God in sum.
The Dragon Prince. — Is what I hear true? Do you not fear, from me, the most atrocious death?
The Maiden. — No, because I truly love you.
The Dragon Prince. — I never expected such words; I don't know what to do, the only appetite I conceive is to devour your whole body; I don't want this confusion that comes to my insides.
The Maiden. — End me, I desire it, but first you must enjoy the body that awaits you; I, in turn, want to feel, it is a plea, your naked body, living skin on my fresh flesh.
The Dragon Prince. — Very well, maiden; but you must first take off that dress.
The Maiden. — I will do so. (She takes off the third dress).
The Dragon Prince. — And I, in turn... (He takes off his shirt) But I still don't see bare skin.
The Maiden. — Let's try again. (Fourth dress).
The Dragon Prince. — I agree and am eager. (He takes off some suspenders).
The Maiden. — It seems necessary to remove another garment from each side. (Fifth dress).
The Dragon Prince. — Yes. (He takes off his pants).
The Maiden. — Another one is necessary. (Sixth dress).
The Dragon Prince. — Yes. (He takes off a sock) I can discern a passion I never conceived for anyone; take off all the remaining garments, for a sudden emotion invades my being, and I wouldn't know how to continue with this matter without throwing myself upon you and subjecting you to the most intense embrace ever suspected in this world.
The Maiden. — Calm, my lord, and take off that bestial skin that remains, I, in turn, will take off this one that oppresses, that hinders. (Seventh dress).
The Dragon Prince. — It is done. (He takes off his tie).
The Maiden. — It's not enough, but it seems that with one... more garment (Eighth dress) ...everything will begin for love, ours, as you never imagined.
The Dragon Prince. — With this... (He takes off the second sock) ...there are eight skins that covered my dragon body, I don't think any are missing.
The Maiden. — I see that there are, and I also have this ninth one to spare, I'll throw it off, but I'll ask that you throw yours off first.
The Dragon Prince. — I won't accept if we don't do it at the same time.
The Maiden. — Very well, let's do it at the same time.
The Maiden takes off shirt number nine and still has the tenth, the Dragon seems about to take off his underwear, when he removes, in an orgasmic gesture, his "last skin," the mask.
The Dragon Prince. — Maiden, what have you done?
The Maiden. — This is your wedding night with me, receive it.
The Maiden goes for a bundle of dry branches and begins to beat the Dragon without mercy.
The Dragon Prince. — I will kill you. I will say no more.
The Maiden. — You can't do any more harm. With these oak branches, I make you forget each of your crimes. I destroy a false being. I end your curse.
The Maiden mercilessly beats the Dragon's body until both are exhausted...
The Maiden. — Come here... you need a bath; gently immerse yourself in this tub that has a sea of boiling milk for water; you will then sleep with me in an embrace, does that please you?
The Dragon Prince. — The bath is as hot as fire and yet it comforts me, it immerses me in myself and I can no longer say anything coherent; I want to sleep deeply.
The Maiden. — Those are desires I make my own and they will be fulfilled this very instant. Come to rest, husband. In this bed we will wake up tomorrow in a new story, we will be the future King and Queen. We will govern this empire when the old kings are gone; you will see. Now, my Prince, my Lord, you may sleep.
*** X ***
And... the next morning... in the garden.
The King. — And... did he eat her?
The Page. — Without a doubt.
The Queen. — Poor girl, so graceful, so slender... It's a shame she died, the poor thing, that way.
The King. — The truth is the Prince, the Dragon, still hasn't left his room, what could have happened?
The Maiden. — My lords, my most esteemed relatives, here I am. I know it will please you to know that my life has not expired, and that the dragon...
The Queen. — She's a harpy, I told you: she killed him!
The King. — Is that true, little one... did you murder him?
The Page. — That's clear, look: her satisfied smile reveals the fault, the crime, the offense, the transgression, the misdeed.
The Prince. — I wouldn't say that much.
Everyone. — Ooooooh... (The "Prince" arrives transformed into an absolute imbecile: he dresses, speaks, and walks like a "Forrest Gump." On the other hand, he's not a fool at all.)
The Queen. — And who is this handsome young man who dares to disrupt the peace of this castle?
The Prince. — Mother, don't you recognize your son?...
The Queen. — It's true, my soul tells me, screams it. Come here, oh my blood, give a hug to your mother who adores you.
The King. — Is that the prince?
The Page. — Without a doubt, Majesty; that's as evident as you being the King and I, well, I'm a miserable page.
The Prince. — Father, and you, won't you embrace your son?
The King. — I don't know... If your mother recognizes you... Well, that's enough for me...
The Prince. — But, Majesty, oh, my father...
The Queen. — Husband!
The King. — Come to my arms, boy!
The Prince. — Father!
The Queen. — Well, now that the matter, fortunately, has been resolved, you have nothing left but to leave this place, which was undoubtedly temporary, fleeting.
The King. — To whom are you speaking like that?
The Prince. — To me?
The Page. — To me?
The Maiden. — No, to me... who apparently has little to do here, goodbye, I'm leaving.
The Prince. — But my dearest, what are you saying, come here. Mother, be careful what you say.
The King. — Be, be careful.
The Page. — Your Majesty, you should be careful.
The Queen. — One should certainly ponder the union you had with this lovely girl, kind indeed, but I, as you can imagine, desire a Princess for you.
The Page. — Of course, a true royal lady from a very distant court.
The King. — Darling, you'd look better quiet.
The Page. — Yes.
The King. — And you too, Page.
The Prince. — Mother, father... It seems my ears heard some nonsense, surely born of my imagination and fantasy. You, my wife, heard no opposition from anyone, did you?
The Maiden. — Oh, no, my master and my lord.
The Queen. — Well, I say that...
The Prince. — My father, of course the time will come when you, what you know, will teach me properly.
The King. — It will be a pleasure, oh Prince.
The Prince. — My mother, your experience and arts are an inexhaustible source that, without a doubt, and with your sure approval, you will know how to transmit to the princess.
The Queen. — Me?
The Maiden. — To me?
The Page. — Which princess?
The Prince. — Mother, you agree, don't you?
The Queen. — Oh... yes... I will wisely guide her with wisdom, with strength and generosity, won't I, oh, my daughter?
The Maiden. — Oh, of course... mother.
The King. — Well, say no more, we must celebrate these events properly, let's all go together to the Main Hall of this castle.
The Page. — Sir, I must say that place has been dirty and forgotten for a long time.
The Prince. — Nothing to worry about, Page.
The King. — No, you will clean it very well if necessary.
The Page. — I'll get to work right away... Don't doubt it... Excuse me.
The Prince. — Come, dear father.
The King. — Come, let's all go together.
King, Prince, and Page exit.
The Queen. — Before we enter, my daughter, and since we have wisely managed to establish happy bonds. Now, as a sign of friendship, I will show you my most intimate, magnificent treasures.
The Maiden. — Oh, thank you, mother.
The Queen. — My rose bushes!
The Maiden. — They are so... beautiful!
The Queen. — And there's something more, as you'll see, if you pay attention: I cultivate two types of roses: white and red; two colors. They are food for the gods, uncooked, tender and fresh.
The Maiden. — Really?
The Queen. — The best flavor comes from tasting the union of both delights in a single bite.
The Maiden. — Oh, I never would have imagined.
The Queen. — Take them, and let's go with my great husband the King, and also with your prince.
The Maiden. — They'll notice we've been delayed...
The Queen. — Eat them, if you wish, very slowly; later, if you like, we'll return for more to this garden, and we'll quickly put an end to your whims, if necessary.
The Maiden. — Yes.
Blackout
Interpretation and Analysis of "I, The Worst of Dragons"
Benjamín Gavarre's "I, The Worst of Dragons" presents a darkly comedic and unsettling take on classic fairy tale tropes, subverting expectations to deliver a biting satire on bourgeois life, power dynamics, and societal expectations. The play's strength lies in its ironic juxtaposition of fantastical elements with mundane, often squalid, realities.
Overall Interpretation
The play operates on multiple levels. On the surface, it's a twisted fairy tale about a Dragon Prince and a Maiden. Beneath that, it's a commentary on the dysfunction of the family unit, particularly one steeped in pretense and social climbing. The "petty-bourgeois household" setting is crucial; it grounds the absurd fantasy in a recognizable, albeit exaggerated, reality. The characters, despite their royal titles, behave like common, selfish, and often petty individuals.
The "Dragon" himself serves as a powerful metaphor. He is not a mythical beast from a faraway land but a monstrous product of his parents' conflicting desires and their superficial existence. His "ugliness" and monstrous nature are as much a reflection of the family's internal rot as they are a literal transformation. The play suggests that the "curse" on the Dragon is less a magical affliction and more a manifestation of deep-seated familial dysfunction and societal pressures.
The ending, with the Dragon Prince transformed into an "absolute imbecile" who is "not a fool at all," is profoundly ambiguous. While the Maiden's actions break a curse, the result is not a classic "happily ever after." Instead, it hints at a more subtle form of control and conformity, where monstrousness is merely repackaged into something more socially palatable, but perhaps equally disturbing in its emptiness. The Queen's desire for a "Princess" and the Prince's immediate agreement to this social programming suggest that the cycle of pretense and control will continue.
Character Analysis
* The King: A weak-willed, lecherous, and ultimately ineffectual patriarch. He is more concerned with his own desires (a "boy" heir, pornographic magazines) than with the well-being of his kingdom or family. He readily abdicates responsibility, first to the "Grand Commission" (himself), then to the Wizard and Fairy, and finally attempts to delegate the Maiden search to the Page. His "bravery" is limited to whipping a beggar. His transformation at the end, embracing the "imbecile" Prince, shows his superficiality and desire for a socially acceptable outcome.
* The Queen: Vain, manipulative, and equally self-absorbed. Her insistence on a "girl" and her decision to eat both roses despite the warnings are acts of pure self-will, leading directly to the Dragon's birth. She is obsessed with appearances and social standing, evident in her elaborate costume recommendations and her desire for a "Princess" daughter-in-law, even after the Dragon's transformation. Her "good intentions" are clearly a facade for her own desires.
* The Dragon Prince: The central, monstrous figure. He embodies the destructive potential of unchecked desire and parental neglect. His rapid aging and escalating demands reflect the unchecked growth of his inner turmoil. His "ugliness" is physical but also a manifestation of his violent and crude nature, a stark contrast to the superficial "royalty" of his parents. His desire for a maiden is purely carnal, devoid of genuine affection. His ultimate transformation into a "Forrest Gump" figure is a chilling twist, suggesting that true monstrosity isn't always obvious; sometimes it's cloaked in a benign, albeit vacant, exterior. The description "not a fool at all" is key—he may be simplified, but he is now molded to fit societal expectations, a more insidious form of control.
* The Page: The long-suffering, cynical servant who is forced to navigate the absurd demands of the royal family. He acts as a foil to the King's ineptitude, often pointing out the obvious or the practical impossibilities of their commands. He represents the "common sense" that is conspicuously absent in the royal household. His willingness to participate in the King's cruelties (whipping the Shepherd) shows the corrosive effect of power and servitude.
* The Maiden: Initially a victim, she transforms into an agent of change. She is pragmatic and resourceful, seeking advice and following it, even when it seems counterintuitive. Her "innocence" (her virginity) is a commodity to be exploited, yet she uses it as a tool for her own survival and to "break the curse." Her final transformation into the future Queen, subtly taking control, shows her adaptability and perhaps a nascent ambition that mirrors the Queen's own.
* The Shepherd: A marginalized figure who suffers directly from the King's demands. His death highlights the casual cruelty of the ruling class.
* The Old Psychoanalyst: A brilliant and highly symbolic character. She is a modern archetype, despite her beggar's disguise, offering a "psychological" solution to a seemingly magical problem. Her methods (stripping away "skins," symbolic beating, "boiling milk" bath) are clearly metaphorical for confronting trauma and stripping away layers of defense mechanisms. She represents a subversive force of truth and healing, albeit through unconventional and somewhat violent means.
Scenic and Dramatic Resources
* Setting Juxtaposition: The directive for a "pretentious, petty-bourgeois household" set is crucial. It immediately establishes the play's satirical tone. The contrast between royal titles and mundane, often squalid, domestic settings (a BBQ in the garden, a messy kitchen, a bedroom that isn't grand) creates a humorous and unsettling disconnect, highlighting the characters' pretensions.
* Lighting and Sound Effects: The "powerful light and sound effect" during the Queen's rose eating is a dramatic flourish that underscores the significance of her actions and foreshadows the monstrous birth. Similarly, the "Funeral March" at the wedding adds ironic dark humor, emphasizing the ill-fated nature of the union.
* Costumes: The specific costume recommendations (sequins, tuxedos, metallic mask) contribute to the caricatured nature of the characters. The Dragon's metallic mask is a powerful visual element, signifying his unnatural state and later, its removal as a key moment of transformation. The "countless dresses" for the Maiden are a direct setup for the ritualistic stripping.
* Blocking and Stage Directions: The physical actions described, such as the King drinking a Cuba Libre, the couple arguing while sitting on a bench, the Prince entering on a motorcycle (if money allows), or grabbing the Maiden by the hair, all contribute to the realistic yet exaggerated portrayal of the characters and their dysfunctional interactions. The Page's "cursory, almost pornographic routine" adds to the unsettling nature of the Prince. The physical violence of the beating and the "orgasmic" removal of the mask are powerful dramatic moments.
* Dialogue: The language often oscillates between formal, almost Shakespearean, pronouncements (especially from the King and Queen, often in rhyming couplets or elevated prose) and more colloquial, petty bickering. This contrast further emphasizes the comedic and satirical elements. The Dragon Prince's blunt demands ("I want a maiden") cut through the royal pretense. The Old Woman's "psychoanalytic" jargon is a clever anachronism that grounds the play in a modern psychological framework.
Possible Effect on the Audience
"I, The Worst of Dragons" is likely to elicit a complex range of reactions from an American audience:
* Laughter and Discomfort: The play's dark humor, stemming from the incongruity of royal figures acting like dysfunctional commoners, would likely provoke laughter. However, this laughter would be tinged with discomfort due to the underlying themes of abuse, manipulation, and violence (the King whipping the Shepherd, the Dragon's threats).
* Social Commentary and Recognition: Audiences might recognize aspects of their own dysfunctional families or societal pressures within the exaggerated setting. The play's critique of superficiality, materialism, and the pursuit of status would resonate, prompting reflection on the "monsters" we create or become within our own social structures.
* Intrigue and Suspense: The unraveling of the "curse" and the Maiden's unconventional approach to dealing with the Dragon would keep the audience engaged, eager to see how the fantastical elements are resolved within the mundane context.
* Ambiguity and Thought-Provocation: The ending, in particular, would likely leave the audience with mixed feelings. The "happy ending" is deeply unsettling, as the Dragon Prince's transformation into an "imbecile" might be seen as a victory over his overt cruelty but a loss of his individual identity or perhaps a more subtle form of social castration. This ambiguity would encourage discussion and deeper interpretation after the performance.
* Shock and Satire: The directness of the Dragon Prince's sexual aggression and the Maiden's somewhat violent "cure" would be shocking, contributing to the play's overall satirical edge by pushing the boundaries of what's expected in a fairy tale.
In essence, "I, The Worst of Dragons" would likely be a thought-provoking and darkly entertaining experience, leaving audiences with a lingering sense of unease about the nature of power, family, and the masks we wear.
Análisis Junguiano: La Trascendencia de la Neurosis en "Yo, el Peor de los Dragones"
"Yo, el Peor de los Dragones", ofrece una rica veta para el análisis junguiano, y sí, el efecto de la trascendencia de la neurosis está muy presente, particularmente en las escenas clave del despojo de las "pieles" del Dragón y su posterior baño.
Para entender esto, recordemos brevemente el concepto junguiano de la neurosis y su trascendencia. En la psicología analítica de Jung, la neurosis no es simplemente una enfermedad, sino una señal de que la psique está intentando moverse hacia un nuevo equilibrio. Es un conflicto entre aspectos conscientes e inconscientes que, si se aborda adecuadamente, puede llevar a un crecimiento y a una mayor individuación (el proceso de convertirse en un ser completo y único). La "trascendencia de la neurosis" implica ir más allá del conflicto neurótico, no eliminándolo, sino integrando las polaridades opuestas para formar una nueva síntesis. Esto a menudo implica confrontar la Sombra (los aspectos reprimidos o indeseables de uno mismo) y el Ánima/Ánimus (el aspecto femenino en el hombre o masculino en la mujer).
El Despojo de las "Pieles" del Dragón
Esta escena es el corazón de la confrontación y la transformación, y es profundamente simbólica desde una perspectiva junguiana:
* Las "Pieles" como Defensas y la Sombra: Las nueve "pieles" que el Dragón debe quitarse pueden interpretarse como capas de su persona (la máscara social que presenta al mundo), sus mecanismos de defensa, o directamente como manifestaciones de su Sombra. El Dragón, en su estado neurótico, es un ser impulsivo, cruel, devorador y amenazante. Estas "pieles" son la manifestación física de su comportamiento destructivo y su incapacidad para relacionarse de manera auténtica. Al quitárselas, está despojándose de su falsa identidad, de la coraza que lo protege de su propia vulnerabilidad y de su verdadero ser.
* La Seducción como Confrontación Inconsciente: La Doncella no lo ataca directamente con fuerza bruta, sino con una "seducción" sutil y simbólica. Esto es crucial. En el proceso de individuación, la Sombra no se destruye, sino que se confronta y se integra. La Doncella, al pedirle que se desnude a cambio de su propia "desnudez" (simbólica, ya que ella permanece cubierta), lo está llevando a un encuentro íntimo con su propio inconsciente. La resistencia del Dragón ("¿qué sortilegio tramas?") muestra la dificultad de esta confrontación.
* La Doncella como Ánima y Guía: La Doncella actúa como una figura del Ánima (el aspecto femenino inconsciente en el hombre) para el Dragón. Es ella quien lo guía a través de este ritual de despojo. Ella no teme su monstruosidad, sino que la acepta como parte de él, lo que le permite al Dragón bajar la guardia. Su "amor" (fingido al principio, pero que se convierte en un catalizador) es lo que permite al Dragón acceder a su propia vulnerabilidad.
* El Acto Orgásmico y la Máscara: El momento en que el Dragón se quita su "última piel", la máscara, en un "gesto orgásmico", es de una potencia simbólica inmensa. El orgasmo, en este contexto, puede simbolizar no solo una liberación sexual, sino una liberación de la tensión psíquica acumulada, una rendición total al proceso. La máscara es la última y más profunda capa de su persona, su identidad artificial. Al quitarla, revela algo más allá de su monstruosidad: su verdadera esencia, aunque sea en un estado de vulnerabilidad extrema.
* El Azote con Ramas de Encino: Este acto, aunque violento, no es de destrucción, sino de purificación y re-educación. Las ramas de encino (un árbol fuerte y simbólico) "hacen olvidar sus crímenes" y "destruyen un falso ser". Es una forma de "golpear" la neurosis, de romper los patrones destructivos arraigados. Es una catarsis necesaria para que la vieja estructura psíquica se desintegre y dé paso a una nueva.
El Baño en Leche Hirviente
Después del despojo y el azote, el baño es el acto final de purificación y renacimiento:
* Purificación y Renacimiento: El baño es un símbolo universal de limpieza, purificación y renacimiento. En muchos mitos y rituales, sumergirse en agua (o en este caso, leche) representa una muerte simbólica al viejo ser y un nacimiento a uno nuevo.
* La Leche Hirviente: La "leche hirviente" es un elemento alquímico y transformador. La leche es nutrición, vida, maternidad; pero "hirviente" añade un elemento de calor, de cocción, de transformación intensa. Es como un "bautismo de fuego" que consume lo viejo y permite que emerja lo nuevo. El Dragón encuentra consuelo en este "fuego", lo que indica que la transformación es dolorosa pero necesaria y, en última instancia, curativa.
* El Sueño Profundo: El deseo del Dragón de "dormir profundamente" después del baño es una rendición al inconsciente. Es un período de incubación, donde la psique procesa la profunda transformación que ha ocurrido. Es el "nigredo" alquímico, la oscuridad necesaria antes de la luz.
La Trascendencia de la Neurosis
El resultado final, con el Príncipe transformado en un "absoluto imbécil" pero "sin un pelo de tonto" (es decir, funcional, pero despojado de su agresividad y complejidad neurótica), es la manifestación de la trascendencia de la neurosis.
* Integración de Opuestos: El Dragón ya no es el monstruo devorador, ni un príncipe convencional. Ha integrado su naturaleza "bestial" (la sombra) con su potencial humano, pero de una manera que lo ha simplificado. La neurosis, que era el conflicto entre su naturaleza instintiva y las expectativas de su "realeza", ha sido resuelta, aunque el resultado no sea la "perfección" sino una nueva forma de ser.
* Nueva Persona, Nueva Adaptación: El "Forrest Gump" es una nueva persona. Ya no es el tirano, sino alguien que se adapta a su entorno con una simplicidad que, paradójicamente, lo hace más manejable para sus padres y para el reino. La neurosis ha sido trascendida, pero el individuo resultante es diferente.
* El Papel de la Doncella en el Nuevo Orden: La Doncella, ahora la futura Reina, ha logrado su objetivo. Ella ha "domesticado" al Dragón, no matándolo, sino transformándolo. Esto también puede verse como un aspecto del Ánima que ayuda al ego masculino a integrar la Sombra y a encontrar una nueva forma de relacionarse con el mundo. El final, con la Reina y la Doncella compartiendo el secreto de las rosas, sugiere que el ciclo de manipulación y control, aunque transformado, podría continuar en una nueva generación.
En resumen, la obra captura magistralmente el proceso de confrontación de la Sombra y la trascendencia de la neurosis a través de un simbolismo poderoso y una narrativa subversiva. La transformación del Dragón no es una cura mágica que lo devuelve a la "normalidad", sino una profunda reconfiguración psíquica que lo lleva a un nuevo estado de equilibrio, aunque este sea inesperado y ambiguo.
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