[Auténtico fragmento de un manuscrito apócrifo de comienzos del siglo XVII]

“Soy un sujeto asaz común y corriente. El extraño es el otro, el de la casa de al lado, con el que apenas solemos intercambiar un gruñido de saludo convencional. Pero ayer, al regresar de la lúgubre sentina donde cumplo mis tareas de contable, me ve al salir de su vivienda y me dice: “Tengo dos billetes para el domingo en el Globe. Dan una buena, dicen, bien trágica y sangrienta; no de esas que son puros gritos y ni siquiera se ve el cadáver. Comienza a las dos; son como cinco actos. Lo invito”.  Acepto para no ser descortés y desaburrir la tarde. Asegura que los boletos son de asientos en la tercera galería alta, no los de un penny para aguantar toda la función de pie en el courtyard. Convenimos en encontrarnos allí.

Hoy es domingo, tibio y soleado. La función no se suspenderá por lluvia. Como un frugal almuerzo y voy caminando. El ejercicio me hace bien, aunque la distancia no es corta: hay que atravesar el  puente ya que este nuevo teatro, inaugurado hace sólo dos años, ha sido construido en el Southwark por ser allí menos costoso el arriendo del terreno. Puntual como buen inglés, está mi vecino esperándome con las entradas. Trepamos a la galería alta, de madera como todo el edificio. Nunca lo había visto por dentro: es circular, espacioso, con el cielo por techo salvo en los bordes donde una pestaña de juncos o paja apenas cubre las galerías. El otro comenta: “Muy concurrido hoy. Gente de la gentry y algún noble, bastante mezclados excepto con los plebeyos de pie sobre el piso de piedra del atrio. Si los dejaran, estos últimos traerían los toscos bancos de la taberna para sentarse. Pero entonces no verían lo que sucede en el stage y se pararían encima de los asientos. Alguna vez se le ocurrirá a alguien alquilar sillas en la planta baja y entonces la chusma no vendría a meter tanto ruido con sus gritos y carcajadas. Y si todas las noches fuesen de luna llena, y ésta iluminase como el sol, hasta podrían darse funciones después de las ocho”. 

Tipo loco este vecino mío, digo para mí; le sobran ocurrencias raras. Falta que sostenga la posibilidad de poner techo a todo el teatro y así veríamos comedias y tragedias durante el año entero, con cualquier temperatura. Habría que iluminar el interior con antorchas y calefaccionar con braseros… Pero ahora también se me antojan tonterías como a él: a la menor chispa, todo el edificio ardería con los espectadores adentro. A menos que los propios utileros le prendan fuego. No hay que ser agorero.

                                 * * * 

Hoy, martes, continúo lo anotado el domingo. La función del “Globe” se había extendido por más de tres horas. Aunque el escenario no cambiaba sino por el quite o desplazamiento de unos pocos utensilios indicativos de cada escena, los cinco actos del drama se arrastraban con cierta pesadez a lo largo de conceptuosos parlamentos recitados a toda voz, que sin embargo me eran a veces ininteligibles. Cierto es que los actores rubricaban sus dichos con gestos vigorosos y lucían sus ropajes estridentes, muy semejantes a los que se ven en la corte de Su Majestad nuestra Reina. La mejor escena es cuando a cuchilladas matan al ambicioso de quien habían hablado tan mal, y cuya sangre vimos salpicar sobre una estatua blanca que alguien olvidó quitar del escenario. Y también el grupo de mirones que se arremolinó en derredor del cadáver para escuchar a dos oradores aparentemente rivales. Después, nuevos personajes que llegan, discuten y deciden vengar al muerto. Mueren algunos más y ahí termina la tragedia. 

Me gustan más las comedias, aunque mi vecino parecía impresionado. Para corresponder a su invitación, lo convidé a beber unas copas en una public house donde permanecimos dos horas en amena y honesta conversación: Honni soit qui mal y pense…

Mientras calentábamos el garguero, el otro me explicó que la pieza dramática había sido escrita, al parecer, por uno de los socios de la comandita teatral que había hecho construir el “Globe”, y que el texto aún no circulaba impreso por precaución de que otras compañías rivales no se lo birlaran. También dijo que la tragedia se titulaba Julius Caesar, aunque este personaje era el que menos actuaba en aquélla, si bien había llegado a ser casi un rey en Roma; había conquistado varios países e incluso depredado partes de nuestro territorio insular, razón por la cual pensé – sin decirlo – que por entrometido me alegraba de que lo acuchillaran y, si venía de Roma, casi seguro era papista.

Explicó unas cuantas cosas más, con un entusiasmo rayano en el fanatismo, pero no recuerdo los pormenores. Salimos del pub o tavern o como se le diga, bastante achispados, dándonos mutuo sostén corporal y apoyo coloquial hasta llegar finalmente a nuestras respectivas viviendas. Antes de despedirnos, prometió que en breve me invitaría a mirar otra tragedia o comedia de ese mismo autor… ¿cómo era que se llamaba?...”

                                                         [fin del manuscrito] 

 “December l7th, l832....  I have not as yet  noticed the Fuegians whom we had on board.. . During the former voyage of the Adventure and Beagle in l826 to 1830, Captain Fitz Roy seized on  a party of natives, as hostages for the loss of a boat, which had been stolen, to the great jeopardy of a party employed on the survey; and some of these natives, as well as a child whom he bought for a pearl-button, he took with him to England, determining to educate them and instruct them in religion at his own expense. To settle this natives in their own country, was one chief inducement to Captain Fitz Roy to undertake our present voyage; and before the Admiralty had resolved to send out this expedition, Captain Fitz Roy had generously chartered a vessel, and would himself have taken them back.. The natives were accompannied by a missionary, R. Matthews;  of whom and of the natives, Captain Fitz Roy had published a full and excellent account.  Two men, one of whom died in England of the small-pox, a boy and a little girl, were originally taken; and we had now on board, York Minster, Jemmy Button (whose name express his purchase-money), and Fuegia Basket.  York Minster was a full-grown, short, thick, powerful man : his disposition was reserved, taciturn, morose, and when excited violently passionate; his affections were very strong towards a few friends on board; his intelect good.  Jemmy Button was a universal favorite, but likewise passionate; the expression of his face at once showed his nice disposition. He was merry and often laughed, and was remarkably sympathetic with any one in pain : when the water was rough, I was often a little sea-sick, and he used to come to me and say in a plaintive voice, “Pour, pour fellow!” but the notion, after his aquatic life, of a man beeing sea-sick, was too ludicrous, and he was generally obliged to turn on one side to hide a smile or laugh, and thenhe would repeat  his “Pour, pour fellow!”. He was of a patriotic disposition; and he liked to praise his own tribe and country, in which he truly said there were  “plenty of trees”, and he abused all the other tribes : he stoutly declared that there was no Devil in his land.
        Jemmy was short, thick, and fat, but vain of his personal appearance; he used always to wear gloves, his hair was neatly cut, and he was distressed if his well-polished shoes were dirtied.He was fond of admiring himself in a looking-glass; and a merry-faced little Indian boy from the Rio Negro, whom we had for some months on board, soon perceived this, and used to mock him : Jemmy, who was always rather jealous of the attention paid to this little boy, did not at all like this, and used to say, with rather a contemptuous twist of his head, “Too much skylark”. It seems yet wonderful to me, when I think over all his many good qualities, that he should have been of the same race, and doubtless partaken of the same character, with the miserable, degraded savages whom we first met here.
        Lastly, Fuegia Basket was a nice, modest, reserved young girl, with a rather pleasing but sometimes sullen expression, and very quick in learning anything, especially languages. This she showed in picking up some Portuguese and Spanish,when left on shore for only a short time at Rio de Janeiro and Monte Video, and in her knowledge of English. York Minster was very jealous of any attention paid to her; for it was clear he determined to marry her as soon as they were settled on shore.
        Although allthree could both speak and understand a good deal of English, it was singularly difficult to obtain much information from them, concerning the habits of their countrymen;  this was partly owing to their apparent difficulty in understanding the simplest alternative. Every one accustomed to very young children, knows how seldom one can answer even to so simple a question as whether a thing is black or white; the idea of black or white seems alternately to fill their minds. So it was with these Fuegians, and hence it was generally impossible to find out, by cross-questioning, whether one had rightly understood anything which they had asserted.
        Their sight was remarcably acute;   it is well known that sailors, from long practice, can make out a distant object much better than a landman;  but both York and Jemmy were much superior to any sailor on board:  several times they have declared what some distant object has been, and though doubted by every one, they have proved right, when it has been examined through a telescope. They were quite conscious of this power; and Jemmy, when he had any little quarrel with the officer on watch, would say “Me see ship, me no tell”.
       It was interesting to watch the conduct of the savages, when we landed, towards Jemmy Button: they immediately perceived the difference between him and ourselves, and held much conversation one with another on the subject. The old man addressed a long  harangue to Jemmy, which it seems was to invite him to stay with them. But Jemmy understood very little of their language, and was, moreover, thoroughly ashamed of his countrymen. When York Minster afterwards came on shore, they noticed him in the same way, and told him he ought to shave; yet he had not twenty dwarf hairs on his face, whilst we all wore our untrimmed beards. They examined the colour of his skin, and compared it with ours. One of our arms being bared, they expressed the liveliest surprise and admiration at its whiteness, just in the same way in which I have seen the ourang-outang do at the Zoological Gardens. 
        We thought that they mistook two or three of the officers, who were rather shorter and fairer, though adorned with large beards, for the ladies of our party. The tallest amongst the Fuegians was evidently much pleased at his height being noticed. When placed back to back with the tallest of the boat’s crew, he tried his best to edge on higher ground, and to stand on tiptoe. He opened his mouth to show his teeth, and turned his face for a side view;  and all this was done with such alacrity, that I dare say he thought himself the handsomest man in Tierra del Fuego. After our first feeling of grave astonishment was over, nothing could be more ludicrous than the odd mixture of surprise and imitation which these savages every moment exhibited.”