CORTÉS
How now? What’s the debate?
AGUILAR The Inquisition:
It’s linked itself with tethers to our church,
Like two, aloof, reluctant mountaineers.
I fear, when that unholy office trips,
And plummets in the popular regard,
Its drop down estimation’s precipice
Will pull down our religion in its tow.
OLMEDO
We cavil, boys, as if there were two Spains.
CORTÉS
One good, one evil?
OLMEDO Not so simple. Yet,
One, global-bent, one isolationist,
One liberal, one counter to reform,
One, eyeing Greece, one stirring with the Moors,
Who, like the fatal twins of Oedipus,
Will not consent to reign in tandem more,
But rather wound each other mortally.
In Europe, there’s a word in currency:
Renaissance- It is not a Spanish word,
And there’s a reason.
CORTÉS And it is?
OLMEDO Some flaw
In Spain’s own character that’s culpable-
Catholic fanaticism, feverish pride,
Or warped deliriums of vanity.
We thought we were the new elect of God,
Mistook our patriotic egoism
For fealty to the church. Hence, our divorce
And isolation from the rest of Europe.
CORTÉS
No, it’s not Spain, not Catholics, nor our race,
But frailties of the human constitution,
Which frequently reverse the gains achieved
By previous generations, in the name
Of progress, culture, and civility. Trumpet is heard.
A parley sounds! See what those Mayas want.
From my play in verse, thefloralwar.com