Mengo Character Analysis

Be constant and they call you boring,
Polite and you’re a flatterer;
Be kind and you’re a hypocrite,
A Christian’s someone seeking favour.
If you’ve got talent, that’s just lucky,
You tell the truth, that’s impudence;
Put up with things and you’re a coward,
When things go wrong, it’s your come-uppance.
A modest woman is a fool,
Pretty but chaste, she’s into seduction;
If she’s virtuous, she’s…no, no,
That’s it, end of demonstration!

FLORES: These village scum defy us!
You’d do well to raze their village to
The ground. They are nothing but trouble.

MENGO: My lord, I beg you. Punish these men
For what they try to do to us.
In your name they would take this girl
Away with them, despite the fact
She’s married and has honourable parents.
I ask for leave to take her home.

COMMANDER: I give them leave to take revenge
On you. Hand over the sling at once!

COMMANDER: Why run away? Would you prefer
A yokel to a man of my
Great rank?

JACINTA: They offended my honour.
To take me for yourself is not
The way to give it back to me.

COMMANDER: To take you for myself?

JACINTA: My father is
An honourable man. Not of
Such noble birth as you, my lord,
But nobler in his deeds and actions.

COMMANDER: You think these peasant insults will
Dispel my anger? Come!

You must
Have seen a fellow making fritters.
He throws great lumps of dough into
A pan of boiling oil until it’s full.
Some come out swollen, some deformed,
Some totally misshapen, some
Are fine, others not, some burnt to death,
Some soggy. And that’s your poetry too.
The subject matter is the poet’s dough.
He throws it in the pan, which is
His paper, and after it spoonfuls
Of honey to cover up the taste
And make it sweeter.

MENGO: No more, no more! I’ll tell you.

JUDGE: Who killed the Commander?

MENGO: Fuente Ovejuna! Our little town!

JUDGE: Who ever saw such scoundrels! They mock
Their pain. The very one I thought
Would crack is most defiant. Release them!
This has become most tiresome.

Be constant and they call you boring,
Polite and you’re a flatterer;
Be kind and you’re a hypocrite,
A Christian’s someone seeking favour.
If you’ve got talent, that’s just lucky,
You tell the truth, that’s impudence;
Put up with things and you’re a coward,
When things go wrong, it’s your come-uppance.
A modest woman is a fool,
Pretty but chaste, she’s into seduction;
If she’s virtuous, she’s…no, no,
That’s it, end of demonstration!

FLORES: These village scum defy us!
You’d do well to raze their village to
The ground. They are nothing but trouble.

MENGO: My lord, I beg you. Punish these men
For what they try to do to us.
In your name they would take this girl
Away with them, despite the fact
She’s married and has honourable parents.
I ask for leave to take her home.

COMMANDER: I give them leave to take revenge
On you. Hand over the sling at once!

COMMANDER: Why run away? Would you prefer
A yokel to a man of my
Great rank?

JACINTA: They offended my honour.
To take me for yourself is not
The way to give it back to me.

COMMANDER: To take you for myself?

JACINTA: My father is
An honourable man. Not of
Such noble birth as you, my lord,
But nobler in his deeds and actions.

COMMANDER: You think these peasant insults will
Dispel my anger? Come!

You must
Have seen a fellow making fritters.
He throws great lumps of dough into
A pan of boiling oil until it’s full.
Some come out swollen, some deformed,
Some totally misshapen, some
Are fine, others not, some burnt to death,
Some soggy. And that’s your poetry too.
The subject matter is the poet’s dough.
He throws it in the pan, which is
His paper, and after it spoonfuls
Of honey to cover up the taste
And make it sweeter.

MENGO: No more, no more! I’ll tell you.

JUDGE: Who killed the Commander?

MENGO: Fuente Ovejuna! Our little town!

JUDGE: Who ever saw such scoundrels! They mock
Their pain. The very one I thought
Would crack is most defiant. Release them!
This has become most tiresome.