Under The Volcano Page #2

[ Gasping ]

I can't.

It's like asking my fairy godmother

for three wishes.

You must forgive my companero.

He's too borracho to pray.

No sepuede vivirsin amar, Madrecita.

And he -

He - He has lost his esposa.

And he ask for your help.

Please.

Pray to the Virgin.

I'm dying without you.

Come back to me, Yvonne.

[ Geoffrey]

Are you listening, Fernando?

Si es absolutamente necesario.

Pay close attention.

A lesson. A parable.

I'm telling you about responsibility,

Fernando.

Si es absolutamente necesario.

This ship was a thoroughgoing lie...

and I was the commanding officer.

This ship-the S.S. Samaritan...

it was called...

looked from the outside

like a harmless, fat old lady-

a laden freighter

lying heavy on the sea.

Are you listening, Fernando?

[ Horn Honking ]

Chamacos.

[ Geoffrey, Indistinct ]

...sink anything the Germans

might send our way!

It was 1917, spring.

We sight a periscope sighting us.

[ Geoffrey Continues, Indistinct ]

Are you listening, Fernando?

They prepare to board us.

Then the big surprise.

Are you listening, Fernando?

Oh.

We drop our disguise.

The predator suddenly becomes the prey.

I got a medal for capturing that sub.

But first I had to be tried

at a court-martial.

The mystery

of the missing German officers.

You see...

the remains of seven men...

were found in the furnace ashes.

Rather gruesome, hmm?

It just isn't done, Fernando.

People just don't go around

putting other people into furnaces.

Hmm. Yvonne.

I'm back.

- Is it really you?

- Of course it's me.

Can't be.

I wrote you I was coming.

Didn't you get my letters?

I wasn't even sure you were still here.

I had to call the Foreign Office.

I am always more or less here.

Uh, I did go away, uh, once,

just last week.

To a bull fight, in Tomalin.

Wound up in El Farolito.

But just for drinks, mind you.

How did you get here?

I came by, uh, boat from New York.

- I caught a plane from Veracruz.

- I see.

You must be exhausted.

Not really. I had a million hours

of sleep on the boat.

The worst part

was the ride from the airfield.

A bus.

It's the shakes that make this life

insupportable.

But they subside, if handled properly...

with the necessary swigs,

the therapeutic touch.

- Have a drink with me.

- No, you have one. I'll cheer.

- Calle Nicaragua 52.

- Si, senora.

[ Stif led Groan ]

How, unless you drink as I do...

can you hope to understand the beauty

of an old Indian woman...

playing dominoes with a chicken?

Well, the taxis seem

to have all disappeared.

- Shall we walk?

- Why? What's happened to the car?

You haven't smashed it up again,

have you?

Well, as a matter of fact,

I lost it.

- You lost it?

- Mmm.

Look here, dash it all,

you must be terribly tired, Yvonne.

Let's not walk.

Let's sit and wait for a taxi.

No, not at all. I would think

that you're the one who's tired.

Oh, no, no. Fine here.

Glad to get some circulation

going in the old legs.

Did they tell you, the Foreign Office,

that I'd resigned?

What happened?

Just fed up.

Geoffrey, why didn't you

answer my letters?

Shakes, you know.

Bit unsteady with a pen.

You might have hired him.

Dear Yvonne...

I'm taking the easy, only way out-

Semicolon.

Good-bye- Full stop.

Change of paragraph.

Change of chapter.

Change of world.

[Bell Tolling ]

[Woman Praying In Spanish ]

How sweetly blooms the graves

With fragrant flowers

Just once ayear

the dead live for the day

Do you remember that Strauss song,

Geoffrey, called "All Soul's Day"?

Return to me, my love

that I may hold you

As once in May

As once in May

What have you been doing for the past year

besides getting a divorce?

Mostly I was in New York.

I got a part in a revival

of The Italian Straw Hat.

Remember-

the play I was in when we met?

I was the ingenue then.

Afraid those days are gone.

This time, I only had a character part.

We closed last week.

I see.

[ Flute:
Melancholic]

Look, his eyes are closed.

The horse knows his way home.

- Gracias.

- Gracias, gracias.

Oh, hello, hello!

Look who comes here!

My little Oedipuss.

Hello!

Oh, there you are.

- Do you think he's forgotten me?

- No, he's not forgotten you.

I never believed it - that cats are not

attached to people but to places.

I've missed you, Oedipuss.

[ Kissing ]

He's missed you too.

Senora, quegusto!

- Oh!

- Buenos dias.

- Buenos dias, Concepta.

- Como la he extranado.

Oh, I've missed you too, Concepta.

What happened to my beautiful garden,

my camellias?

It became a bit of a jungle, I'm afraid.

But look here,

just suppose for argument's sake...

that you, uh, abandoned a besieged town...

and somehow or other,

not long afterwards, you come back.

You can't well expect to invite yourself

into the same green graces...

quite the same, uh, oh...

dear old welcome here and there,

can you, hmm?

Have you come back,

or are you just visiting?

I'm here, aren't I?

Hugh! Come out here!

You'll never guess who's just popped in.

- Is Hugh here?

- Oh. Didn't I tell you?

Oh, he's been back some time.

He came straight

from the Spanish Civil War.

Been playing Florence Nightingale for me.

Hugh. Where are you?

He was quite disappointed when he got back

and, uh, discovered you'd flown the coop.

I do believe he's missed you

full as much as I.

Hugh. Where are you?

Where can the young pup be?

Hugh! An emissary calls.

The Consul of Cuckold's Haven.

Come and give the wife

a "welcome back" kiss.

Oh, I forgot. He's in Mexico City.

Be back some time today.

He'd gotten a wind of some,

uh, rumor, and he -

he chased off

like a hound after a hare.

Geoffrey. Just tell me.

I can go.

This is Hugh's home cure for alcoholism.

Strychnine.

He bribes Concepta to poison me.

- Veneno.

- Senora, eso no es verdad.

- It's dreadful.

- It is.

Uh, would you like a whiskey?

I haven't had breakfast yet.

Geoffrey?

- Geoffrey. Take it.

- What?

For God's sake, drink it.

I'm not expecting miracles.

No, no, no, no. I'll stick to the old,

uh, medicine, thank you.

[ Groans, Shudders ]

- Have you really resigned?

-Absolutely.

No more diplomacy for me.

Well, then there's nothing really

holding you here anymore.

Magic.

"He on whose heart

the dust of Mexico has lain...

will find no peace

in anyother land. "

But nothing's really holding you.

There's nothing more real than magic.

All right, Geoffrey, we can

talk about it when you're rested.

When I'm sober, you mean.

Surely you know by this time that I can't

get drunk, however much I drink...

and that I'm only drunk in the conventional,

incoherent staggering sense...

when I haven't had a drink.

Surely you appreciate the, mmm -

the fine balance I must strike...

between the, uh, shakes of too little

and, uh, the abyss of too much.

- I do appreciate it.

- Yes. Quite. Well.

Well, I'd like to have a bath.

Have your drink.

Ah.

Concepta!

-Senor.

- Tequila, por favor.

- No haynada que tomar.

- Nothing?

- Nada.

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