_Councillor Agazzi's study in the same house. Antique
furnishings with old paintings on the walls. A portière over
the rear entrance and over the door to the left which opens
into the drawing room shown in the first act. To the right a
substantial fireplace with a big mirror above the mantel. A
flat top desk with a telephone. A sofa, armchairs, straight
back chairs, etc._
_As the curtain rises Agazzi is shown standing beside his
desk with the telephone receiver pressed to his ear. Laudisi
end Sirelli sit looking at him expectantly._
AGAZZI. Yes, I want Centuri. Hello ... hello ... Centuri?
Yes, Agazzi speaking. That you, Centuri? It's me, Agazzi.
Well? (_He listens for some time_). What's that? Really?
(_Again he listens at length_). I understand, but you might
go at the matter with a little more speed.... (_Another long
pause_). Well, I give up! How can that possibly be? (_A
pause_). Oh, I see, I see.... (_Another pause_). Well, never
mind, I'll look into it myself. Goodbye, Centuri, goodbye!
(_He lays down the receiver and steps forward on the
stage_).
SIRELLI (_eagerly_). Well?
AGAZZI. Nothing! Absolutely nothing!
SIRELLI. Nothing at all?
AGAZZI. You see the whole blamed village was wiped out. Not
a house left standing! In the collapse of the town hall,
followed by a fire, all the records of the place seem to
have been lost--births, deaths, marriages, everything.
SIRELLI. But not everybody was killed. They ought to be able
to find somebody who knows them.
AGAZZI. Yes, but you see they didn't rebuild the place.
Everybody moved away, and no record was ever kept of the
people, of course. So far they have found nobody who knows
the Ponzas. To be sure, if the police really went at it,
they might find somebody; but it would be a tough job.
SIRELLI. So we can't get anywhere along that line! We have
got to take what they say and let it go at that.
AGAZZI. That, unfortunately, is the situation.
LAUDISI (_rising_). Well, you fellows take a piece of advice
from me: believe them both!
AGAZZI. What do you mean--"believe them both"?...
SIRELLI. But if she says one thing, and he says another....
LAUDISI. Well, in that case, you needn't believe either of
them!
SIRELLI. Oh, you're just joking. We may not be able to
verify the stories; but that doesn't prove that either one
or the other may not be telling the truth. Some document or
other....
LAUDISI. Oh, documents! Documents! Suppose you had them?
What good would they do you?
AGAZZI. Oh, I say! Perhaps we can't get them now, but there
were such documents once. If the old lady is the lunatic,
there was, as there still may be somewhere, the death
certificate of the daughter. Or look at it from the other
angle: if we found all the records, and the death
certificate were not there for the simple reason that it
never existed, why then, it's Ponza, the son-in-law. He
would be the lunatic.
SIRELLI. You mean to say you wouldn't give in if we stuck
that certificate under your nose tomorrow or the next day?
Would you still deny....
LAUDISI. Deny? Why ... why ... I'm not denying anything! In
fact, I'm very careful not to be denying anything. You're
the people who are looking up the records to be able to
affirm or deny something. Personally, I don't give a rap for
the documents; for the truth in my eyes is not a matter of
black and white, but a matter of those two people. And into
their minds I can penetrate only through what they say to me
of themselves.
SIRELLI. Very well--She says he's crazy and he says she's
crazy. Now one of them must be crazy. You can't get away
from that. Well which is it, she or he?
AGAZZI. There, that's the way to put it!
LAUDISI. But just observe; in the first place, it isn't true
that they are accusing each other of insanity. Ponza, to be
sure, says his mother-in-law is insane. She denies this, not
only of herself, but also of him. At the most, she says that
he was a little off once, when they took her daughter from
him; but that now he is quite all right.
SIRELLI. I see! So you're rather inclined, as I am, to trust
what the old lady says.
AGAZZI. The fact is, indeed, that if you accept his story,
all the facts in the case are explained.
LAUDISI. But all the facts in the case are explained if you
take her story, aren't they?
SIRELLI. Oh, nonsense! In that case neither of them would be
crazy! Why, one of them must be, damn it all!
LAUDISI. Well, which one? You can't tell, can you? Neither
can anybody else! And it is not because those documents you
are looking for have been destroyed in an accident--a fire,
an earthquake--what you will; but because those people have
concealed those documents in themselves, in their own souls.
Can't you understand that? She has created for him, or he
for her, a world of fancy which has all the earmarks of
reality itself. And in this fictitious reality they get
along perfectly well, and in full accord with each other;
and this world of fancy, this reality of theirs, no document
can possibly destroy because the air they breathe is of that
world. For them it is something they can see with their
eyes, hear with their ears, and touch with their fingers.
Oh, I grant you--if you could get a death certificate or a
marriage certificate or something of the kind, you might be
able to satisfy that stupid curiosity of yours.
Unfortunately, you can't get it. And the result is that you
are in the extraordinary fix of having before you, on the
one hand, a world of fancy, and on the other, a world of
reality, and you, for the life of you, are not able to
distinguish one from the other.
AGAZZI. Philosophy, my dear boy, philosophy! And I have no
use for philosophy. Give me facts, if you please! Facts! So,
I say, keep at it; and I'll bet you we get to the bottom of
it sooner or later.
SIRELLI. First we got her story and then we got his; and
then we got a new one from her. Let's bring the two of them
together--and you think that then we won't be able to tell
the false from the true?
LAUDISI. Well, bring them together if you want to! All I ask
is permission to laugh when you're through.
AGAZZI. Well, we'll let you laugh all you want. In the
meantime let's see.... (_He steps to the door at the left
and calls_): Amalia, Signora Sirelli, won't you come in here
a moment?
(_The ladies enter with Dina_).
SIGNORA SIRELLI (_catching sight of Laudisi and shaking a
finger at him_). But how is it a man like you, in the
presence of such an extraordinary situation, can escape the
curiosity we all feel to get at the bottom of this mystery?
Why, I lie awake nights thinking of it!
AGAZZI. As your husband says, that man's impossible! Don't
bother about him, Signora Sirelli.
LAUDISI. No, don't bother with me; you just listen to
Agazzi! He'll keep you from lying awake tonight.
AGAZZI. Look here, ladies. This is what I want--I have an
idea: won't you just step across the hall to Signora
Frola's?
AMALIA. But will she come to the door?
AGAZZI. Oh, I imagine she will!
DINA. We're just returning the call, you see....
AMALIA. But didn't he ask us not to call on his
mother-in-law? Hasn't he forbidden her to receive visits?
SIRELLI. No, not exactly! That's how he explained what had
happened; but at that time nothing was known. Now that the
old lady, through force of circumstance, has spoken, giving
her version at least of her strange conduct, I should think
that....
SIGNORA SIRELLI. I have a feeling that she'll be awfully
glad to see us, if for nothing else, for the chance of
talking about her daughter.
DINA. And she really is a jolly old lady. There is no doubt
in my mind, not the slightest: Ponza is the lunatic!
AGAZZI. Now, let's not go too fast. You just listen to me
(_he looks at his wife_): don't stay too long--five or ten
minutes at the outside!
SIRELLI (_to his wife_). And for heaven's sake, keep your
mouth shut!
SIGNORA SIRELLI. And why such considerate advice to me?
SIRELLI. Once _you_ get going....
DINA (_with the idea of preventing a scene_). Oh, we are not
going to stay very long, ten minutes--fifteen, at the
outside. I'll see that no breaks are made.
AGAZZI. And I'll just drop around to the office, and be back
at eleven o'clock--ten or twenty minutes at the most.
SIRELLI. And what can I do?
AGAZZI. Wait! (_Turning to the ladies_). Now, here's the
plan! You people invent some excuse or other so as to get
Signora Frola in here.
AMALIA. What? How can we possibly do that?
AGAZZI. Oh, find some excuse! You'll think of something in
the course of your talk; and if you don't, there's Dina and
Signora Sirelli. But when you come back, you understand, go
into the drawing room. (_He steps to the door on the left,
makes sure that it is wide open, and draws aside the
portière_). This door must stay open, wide open, so that we
can hear you talking from in here. Now, here are some papers
that I ought to take with me to the office. However, I
forget them here. It is a brief that requires Ponza's
immediate personal attention. So then, I forget it. And when
I get to the office I have to bring him back here to find
them--See?
SIRELLI. But just a moment. Where do I come in? When am I
expected to appear?
AGAZZI. Oh, yes!... A moment or two after eleven, when the
ladies are again in the drawing room, and I am back here,
you just drop in--to take your wife home, see? You ring the
bell and ask for me, and I'll have you brought in here. Then
I'll invite the whole crowd in! That's natural enough, isn't
it?--into my office?...
LAUDISI (_interrupting_). And we'll have the Truth, the
whole Truth with a capital T!
DINA. But look, Nunky, of course we'll have the truth--once
we get them together face to face--capital T and all!
AGAZZI. Don't get into an argument with that man. Besides,
it's time you ladies were going. None of us has any too much
leeway.
SIGNORA SIRELLI. Come, Amalia, come Dina! And as for you,
sir (_turning to Laudisi_), I won't even shake hands with
you.
LAUDISI. Permit me to do it for you, madam. (_He shakes one
hand with the other_). Good luck to you, my dear ladies.
(_Exit Dina, Amalia, Signora Sirelli_).
AGAZZI (_to Sirelli_). And now we'd better go, too. Suppose
we hurry!
SIRELLI. Yes, right away. Goodbye, Lamberto!
LAUDISI. Goodbye, good luck, good luck! (_Agazzi and Sirelli
leave. Laudisi, left alone, walks up and down the study a
number of times, nodding his head and occasionally smiling.
Finally he draws up in front of the big mirror that is
hanging over the mantelpiece. He sees himself in the glass,
stops, and addresses his image_).
LAUDISI. So there you are! (_He bows to himself and salutes,
touching his forehead with his fingers_). I say, old man,
who is the lunatic, you or I? (_He levels a finger
menacingly at his image in the glass; and, of course, the
image in turn levels a finger at him. As he smiles, his
image smiles_). Of course, I understand! I say it's you, and
you say it's me. You--you are the lunatic! No? It's me? Very
well! It's me! Have it _your_ way. Between you and me, we
get along very well, don't we! But the trouble is, others
don't think of you just as I do; and that being the case,
old man, what a fix you're in! As for me, I say that here,
right in front of you, I can see myself with my eyes and
touch myself with my fingers. But what are you for other
people? What are you in their eyes? An image, my dear sir,
just an image in the glass! "What fools these mortals be!"
as old Shakespeare said. They're all carrying just such a
phantom around inside themselves, and here they are racking
their brains about the phantoms in other people; and they
think all that is quite another thing!
(_The butler has entered the room in time to catch Laudisi
gesticulating at himself in the glass. He wonders if the man
is crazy. Finally he speaks up_):
BUTLER. Ahem!... Signor Laudisi, if you please....
LAUDISI (_coming to himself_). Uff!
BUTLER. Two ladies calling, sir! Signora Cini and another
lady!
LAUDISI. Calling to see me?
BUTLER. Really, they asked for the signora; but I said that
she was out--on a call next door; and then....
LAUDISI. Well, what then?
BUTLER. They looked at each other and said, "Really!
Really!" and finally they asked me if anybody else was at
home.
LAUDISI. And of course you said that everyone was out!
BUTLER. I said that you were in!
LAUDISI. Why, not at all! I'm miles and miles away! Perhaps
that fellow they call Laudisi is here!
BUTLER. I don't understand, sir.
LAUDISI. Why? You think the Laudisi they know is the Laudisi
I am?
BUTLER. I don't understand, sir.
LAUDISI. Whom are you talking to?
BUTLER. Who am I talking to? I thought I was talking to you.
LAUDISI. Are you really sure the Laudisi you are talking to
is the Laudisi the ladies want to see?
BUTLER. Why, I think so, sir. They said they were looking
for the brother of Signora Agazzi.
LAUDISI. Ah, in that case you are right! (_Turning to the
image in the glass_): You are not the brother of Signora
Agazzi? No, it's me! (_To the butler_): Right you are! Tell
them I am in. And show them in here, won't you? (_The butler
retires_).
SIGNORA CINI. May I come in?
LAUDISI. Please, please, this way, madam!
SIGNORA CINI. I was told Signora Agazzi was not at home, and
I brought Signora Nenni along. Signora Nenni is a friend of
mine, and she was most anxious to make the acquaintance
of....
LAUDISI. ... of Signora Frola?
SIGNORA CINI. Of Signora Agazzi, your sister!
LAUDISI. Oh, she will be back very soon, and Signora Frola
will be here, too.
SIGNORA CINI. Yes, we thought as much.
SIGNORA NENNI _is an oldish woman of the type of Signora
Cini, but with the mannerisms of the latter somewhat more
pronounced. She, too, is a bundle of concentrated curiosity,
but of the sly, cautious type, ready to find something
frightful under everything._
LAUDISI. Well, it's all planned in advance! It will be a
most interesting scene! The curtain rises at eleven,
precisely!
SIGNORA CINI. Planned in advance? What is planned in
advance?
LAUDISI (_mysteriously, first with a gesture of his finger
and then aloud_). Why, bringing the two of them together!
(_A gesture of admiration_): Great idea, I tell you!
SIGNORA CINI. The two of them--together--who?
LAUDISI. Why, the two of them. He--in here! (_Pointing to
the room about him_).
SIGNORA CINI. Ponza, you mean?
LAUDISI. And she--in there! (_He points toward the drawing
room_).
SIGNORA CINI. Signora Frola?
LAUDISI. Exactly! (_With an expressive gesture of his hands
and even more mysteriously_): But afterwards, all of
them--in here! Oh, a great idea, a great idea!
SIGNORA CINI. In order to get....
LAUDISI. The truth! Precisely: the truth!
SIGNORA CINI. But the truth is known already!
LAUDISI. Of course! The only question is stripping it bare,
so that everyone can see it!
SIGNORA CINI (_with the greatest surprise_). Oh, really? So
they know the truth! And which is it--He or she?
LAUDISI. Well, I'll tell you ... you just guess! Who do you
think it is?
SIGNORA CINI (_ahemming_). Well ... I say ... really ... you
see....
LAUDISI. Is it she or is it he? You don't mean to say you
don't know! Come now, give a guess!
SIGNORA CINI. Why, for my part I should say ... well, I'd
say ... it's _he_.
LAUDISI (_looks at her admiringly_). Right you are! It _is_
he!
SIGNORA CINI. Really? I always thought so! Of course, it was
perfectly plain all along. It had to be he!
SIGNORA NENNI. All of us women in town said it was he. We
always said so!
SIGNORA CINI. But how did you get at it? I suppose Signor
Agazzi ran down the documents, didn't he--the birth
certificate, or something?
SIGNORA NENNI. Through the prefect, of course! There was no
getting away from those people. Once the police start
investigating...!
LAUDISI (_motions to them to come closer to him; then in a
low voice and in the same mysterious manner, and stressing
each syllable_). The certificate!--Of the second marriage!
SIGNORA CINI (_starting back with astonishment_). What?
SIGNORA NENNI (_Likewise taken aback_). What did you say?
The second marriage?
SIGNORA CINI. Well, in that case he was _right_.
LAUDISI. Oh, documents, ladies, documents! This certificate
of the second marriage, so it seems, talks as plain as day.
SIGNORA NENNI. Well, then, _she_ is the lunatic.
LAUDISI. Right you are! She it is!
SIGNORA CINI. But I thought you said....
LAUDISI. Yes, I did say ... but this certificate of the
second marriage may very well be, as Signora Frola said, a
fictitious document, gotten up through the influence of
Ponza's doctors and friends to pamper him in the notion that
his wife was not his first wife, but another woman.
SIGNORA CINI. But it's a public document. You mean to say a
public document can be a fraud?
LAUDISI. I mean to say--well, it has just the value that
each of you chooses to give it. For instance, one could find
somewhere, possibly, those letters that Signora Frola said
she gets from her daughter, who lets them down in the basket
in the courtyard. There are such letters, aren't there?
SIGNORA CINI. Yes, of course!
LAUDISI. They are documents, aren't they? Aren't letters
documents? But it all depends on how you read them. Here
comes Ponza, and he says they are just made up to pamper his
mother-in-law in her obsession....
SIGNORA CINI. Oh, dear, dear, so then we're never sure about
anything?
LAUDISI. Never sure about anything? Why not at all, not at
all! Let's be exact. We are sure of many things, aren't we?
How many days are there in the week? Seven--Sunday, Monday,
Tuesday, Wednesday.... How many months in the year are
there? Twelve: January, February, March....
SIGNORA CINI. Oh, I see, you're just joking! You're just
joking! (_Dina appears, breathless, in the doorway, at the
rear_).
DINA. Oh, Nunky, won't you please.... (_She stops at the
sight of Signora Cini_). Oh, Signora Cini, you here?
SIGNORA CINI. Why, I just came to make a call!...
LAUDISI. ... with Signora Cenni.
SIGNORA NENNI. No, my name is Nenni.
LAUDISI. Oh yes, pardon me! She was anxious to make Signora
Frola's acquaintance....
SIGNORA NENNI. Why, not at all!
SIGNORA CINI. He has just been making fun of us! You ought
to see what fools he made of us!
DINA. Oh, he's perfectly insufferable, even with mamma and
me. Will you excuse me for just a moment? No, everything is
all right. I'll just run back and tell mamma that you people
are here and I think that will be enough. Oh, Nunky, if you
had only heard her talk! Why, she is a perfect _dear_; and
what a good, kind soul!... She showed us all those letters
her daughter wrote....
SIGNORA CINI. Yes, but as Signor Laudisi was just saying....
DINA. He hasn't even seen them!
SIGNORA NENNI. You mean they are not really fictitious?
DINA. Fictitious nothing! They talk as plain as day. And
such things! You can't fool a mother when her own daughter
talks to her. And you know--the letter she got yesterday!...
(_She stops at the sound of voices coming into the study
from the drawing room_). Oh, here they are, here they are,
already! (_She goes to the door and peeps into the room_).
SIGNORA CINI (_following her to the door_). Is _she_ there,
too?
DINA. Yes, but you had better come into the other room. All
of us women must be in the drawing room. And it is just
eleven o'clock, Nunky!
AMALIA (_entering with decision from the door on the left_).
I think this whole business is quite unnecessary! We have
absolutely no further need of proofs....
DINA. Quite so! I thought of that myself. Why bring Ponza
here?
AMALIA (_taken somewhat aback by Signora Cinis presence_).
Oh, my dear Signora Cini!...
SIGNORA CINI (_introducing Signora Nenni_). A friend of
mine, Signora Nenni! I ventured to bring her with me....
AMALIA (_bowing, but somewhat coolly, to the visitor_). A
great pleasure, Signora! (_After a pause_). There is not the
slightest doubt in the world ... it's he!
SIGNORA CINI. It's he? Are you sure it's he?
DINA. And such a trick on the poor old lady!
AMALIA. Trick is not the name for, it! It is downright
dishonest!
LAUDISI. Oh, I agree with you: it's outrageous! Quite! So
much so, I'm quite convinced it must be _she_!
AMALIA. She? What do you mean? How can you say that?
LAUDISI. I say, it is _she_, it is _she_, it's _she_!
AMALIA. Oh, I say! If you had heard her talk...!
DINA. It is absolutely clear to us now.
SIGNORA CINI and SIGNORA NENNI (_swallowing_). Really? You
are sure?
LAUDISI. Exactly! Now that you are sure it's he, why,
obviously--it must be she.
DINA. Oh dear me, why talk to that man? He is just
impossible!
AMALIA. Well, we must go into the other room.... This way,
if you please!
(_Signora Cini, Signora Nenni and Amalia withdraw through
the door on the left. Dina starts to follow, when Laudisi
calls her back_).
LAUDISI. Dina!
DINA. I refuse to listen to you! I refuse!
LAUDISI. I was going to suggest that, since the whole matter
is closed, you might close the door also.
DINA. But papa ... he told us to leave it open. Ponza will
be here soon; and if papa finds it closed--well, you know
how papa is!
LAUDISI. But you can convince him!... You especially. You
can show him that there really was no need of going any
further. You are convinced yourself, aren't you?
DINA. I am as sure of it, as I am that I'm alive!
LAUDISI (_putting her to the test with a smile_). Well,
close the door then!
DINA. I see, you're trying to make me say that I'm not
really sure. Well, I won't close the door, but it's just on
account of papa.
LAUDISI. Shall I close it for you?
DINA. If you take the responsibility yourself!...
LAUDISI. But you see, _I_ am sure! I _know_ that Ponza is
the lunatic!
DINA. The thing for you to do is to come into the other room
and just hear her talk a while. Then you'll be sure,
absolutely sure. Coming?
LAUDISI. Yes, I'm coming, and I'll close the door behind
me--on my own responsibility, of course.
DINA. Ah, I see. So you're convinced even before you hear
her talk.
LAUDISI. No, dear, it's because I'm sure that your papa, who
has been with Ponza, is just as certain as you are that any
further investigation is unnecessary.
DINA. How can you say that?
LAUDISI. Why, of course, if you talk with Ponza, you're sure
the old lady is crazy. (_He walks resolutely to the door_).
I am going to shut this door.
DINA (_restraining him nervously, then hesitating a
moment_). Well, why not ... if you're really sure? What do
you say--let's leave it open!
LAUDISI. Hah! hah! hah! hah! hah! hah! hah!
DINA. But just because papa told us to!
LAUDISI. And papa will tell you something else by and by.
Say ... let's leave it open!
(_A piano starts playing in the adjoining room--an ancient
lune, full of soft and solemn melody; the "Nina" of
Pergolesi_).
DINA. Oh, there she is. She's playing! Do you hear? Actually
playing the piano!
LAUDISI. The old lady?
DINA. Yes! And you know? She told us that her daughter used
to play this tune, always the same tune. How well she plays!
Come! Come!
(_They hurry through the door_).
_The stage, after the exit of Laudisi and Dina, remains
empty for a space of time while the music continues from the
other room. Ponza, appearing at the door with Agazzi,
catches the concluding notes and his face changes to an
expression of deep emotion--an emotion that will develop
into a virtual frenzy as the scene proceeds._
AGAZZI (_in the doorway_). After you, after you, please!
(_He takes Ponza's elbow and motions him into the room. He
goes over to his desk, looks about for the papers which he
pretends he had forgotten, finds them eventually and says_).
Why, here they are! I was sure I had left them here. Won't
you take a chair, Ponza? (_Ponza seems not to hear. He
stands looking excitedly at the door into the drawing room,
through which the sound of the piano is still coming_).
AGAZZI. Yes, they are the ones! (_He takes the papers and
steps to Ponza's side, opening the fold_). It is an old
case, you see. Been running now for years and years! To tell
you the truth I haven't made head or tail of the stuff
myself. I imagine you'll find it one big mess. (_He, too,
becomes aware of the music and seems somewhat irritated by
it. His eyes also rest on the door to the drawing room_).
That noise, just at this moment! (_He walks with a show of
anger to the door_). Who is that at the piano anyway? (_In
the doorway he stops and looks, and an expression of
astonishment comes into his face_). Ah!
PONZA (_going to the door also. On looking into the next
room he can hardly restrain his emotion_). In the name of
God, is _she_ playing?
AGAZZI. Yes--Signora Frola! And how well she does play!
PONZA. How is this? You people have brought her in here,
again! And you're letting her play!
AGAZZI. Why not? What's the harm?
PONZA. Oh, please, please, no, not that song! It is the one
her daughter used to play.
AGAZZI. Ah, I see! And it hurts you?
PONZA. Oh, no, not me--but her--it hurts her--and you don't
know how much! I thought I had made you and those women
understand just how that poor old lady was!
AGAZZI. Yes, you did ... quite true! But you see ... but see
here, Ponza! (_trying to pacify the man's growing emotion_).
PONZA (_continuing_). But you _must_ leave her alone! You
_must_ not go to her house! She _must_ not come in here! I
am the only person who can deal with her. You are killing
her ... killing her!
AGAZZI. No, I don't think so. It is not so bad as that. My
wife and daughter are surely tactful enough.... (_Suddenly
the music ceases. There is a burst of applause_).
AGAZZI. There, you see. Listen! Listen!
(_From the next room the following conversation is
distinctly heard_).
DINA. Why, Signora Frola, you are perfectly _marvellous_ at
the piano!
SIGNORA FROLA. But you should hear how my Lena plays!
(_Ponza digs his nails into his hands_).
AGAZZI. Her daughter, of course!
PONZA. Didn't you hear? "How my Lena plays! How my Lena
_plays_!"
(_Again from the inside_).
SIGNORA FROLA. Oh, no, not now!... She hasn't played for a
long time--since that happened. And you know, it is what she
takes hardest, poor girl!
AGAZZI. Why, that seems quite natural to me! Of course, she
thinks the girl is still alive!
PONZA. But she shouldn't be allowed to say such things. She
_must_ not--she _must_ not say such things! Didn't you hear?
"She hasn't played since that happened"! She said "she
_hasn't_ played since that happened"! Talking of the piano,
you understand! Oh, you don't understand, no, of course! My
first wife had a piano and played that tune. Oh, oh, oh! You
people are determined to ruin me!
(_Sirelli appears at the back door at this moment, and
hearing the concluding words of Ponza and noticing his
extreme exasperation, stops short, uncertain as to what to
do. Agazzi is himself very much affected and motions to
Sirelli to come in_).
AGAZZI. Why, no, my dear fellow, I don't see any reason....
(_To Sirelli_). Won't you just tell the ladies to come in
here?
(_Sirelli, keeping at a safe distance from Ponza, goes to
the door at the left and calls_).
PONZA. The ladies in here? In here with me? Oh, no, no,
please, rather....
(_At a signal from Sirelli, who stands in the doorway to the
left, his face taut with intense emotion, the ladies enter.
They all show various kinds and degrees of excitement and
emotion. Signora Frola appears, and catching sight of Ponza
in the condition he is in, stops, quite overwhelmed. As he
assails her during the lines that follow, she exchanges
glances of understanding from time to time with the ladies
about her. The action here is rapid, nervous, tense with
excitement, and extremely violent_).
PONZA. You? Here? How is this? You! Here! Again! What are
you doing here?
SIGNORA FROLA. Why, I just came ... don't be cross!
PONZA. You came here to tell these ladies.... What did you
tell these ladies?
SIGNORA FROLA. Nothing! I swear to God, nothing!
PONZA. Nothing? What do you mean, nothing? I heard you with
my own ears, and this gentleman here heard you also. You
said "she plays". Who plays? Lena plays! And you know very
well that Lena has been dead for four years. Dead, do you
hear! Your daughter has been dead--for four years!
SIGNORA FROLA. Yes, yes, I know.... Don't get excited, my
dear.... Oh, yes, oh yes. I know....
PONZA. And you said "she hasn't been able to play since that
happened". Of course she hasn't been able to play since that
happened. How could she, if she's dead?
SIGNORA FROLA. Why, of course, certainly. Isn't that what I
said? Ask these ladies. I said that she hasn't been able to
play since that happened. Of course. How could she, if she's
dead?
PONZA. And why were you worrying about that piano, then?
SIGNORA FROLA. No, no! I'm not worrying about any piano....
PONZA. I broke that piano up and destroyed it. You know
that, the moment your daughter died, to keep this second
wife of mine from playing on it. For that matter you know
that this second woman never plays.
SIGNORA FROLA. Why, of course, dear! Of course! She doesn't
know how to play!
PONZA. And one thing more: Your daughter was Lena, wasn't
she? Her name was Lena. Now, see here! You just tell these
people what my second wife's name is. Speak up! You know
very well what her name is! What is it? What is it?
SIGNORA FROLA. Her name is Julia! Yes, yes, of course, my
dear friends, her name is Julia! (_Winks at someone in the
company_).
PONZA. Exactly! Her name is Julia, and not Lena! Who are you
winking at? Don't you go trying to suggest by those winks of
yours that she's not Julia!
SIGNORA FROLA. Why, what do you mean? I wasn't winking! Of
course I wasn't!
PONZA. I saw you! I saw you very distinctly! You are trying
to ruin me! You are trying to make these people think that I
am keeping your daughter all to myself, just as though she
were not dead. (_He breaks into convulsive sobbing_) ...
just as though she were not dead!
SIGNORA FROLA (_hurrying forward and speaking with infinite
kindness and sympathy_). Oh no! Come, come, my poor boy.
Come! Don't take it so hard. I never said any such thing,
did I, madam!
AMALIA, SIGNORA SIRELLI, DINA. Of course she never said such
a thing! She always said the girl was dead! Yes! Of course!
No!
SIGNORA FROLA. I did, didn't I? I said she's dead, didn't I?
And that you are so very good to me. Didn't I, didn't I? I,
trying to ruin you? I, trying to get you into trouble?
PONZA. And you, going into other people's houses where there
are pianos, playing your daughter's tunes on them! Saying
that Lena plays them that way, or even better!
SIGNORA FROLA. No, it was ... why ... you see ... it was ...
well ... just to see whether....
PONZA. But you _can't_ ... you _mustn't_! How could you ever
dream of trying to play a tune that your dead daughter
played!
SIGNORA FROLA. You are quite right!... Oh, yes! Poor boy!
Poor boy! (_She also begins to weep_). I'll never do it
again: Never, never, never again!
PONZA (_advancing upon her threateningly_). What are you
doing here? Get out of here! Go home at once! Home! Home! Go
home!
SIGNORA FROLA. Yes, Yes! Home! I am going home! Oh dear, oh
dear!
(_She backs out the rear door, looking beseechingly at the
company, as though urging everyone to have pity on her
son-in-law. She retires, sobbing. The others stand there
looking at Ponza with pity and terror; but the moment
Signora Frola has left the room, he regains his normal
composure, an air of despairing melancholy, and he says
coolly, but with profound seriousness_):
PONZA. I hope you good people will excuse me for this scene.
A scene it really was, I suppose! But how could I avoid it?
I had to rave like that to repair the damage which you good
people, with the best of intentions, and surely without
dreaming what you are really doing, have done to this
unfortunate woman.
AGAZZI (_in astonishment_). What do you mean? That you were
just acting? You were pretending all that?
PONZA. Of course I was! Don't you people understand that I
had to? The only way to keep her in her obsession is for me
to shout the truth that way, as though I myself had gone
mad, as though I were the lunatic! Understand? But please
forgive me. I must be going now. I must go in and see how
she is. (_He hurries out through the rear door. The others
stand where they are in blank amazement_).
LAUDISI (_coming forward_). And there, ladies and gentlemen,
you have the truth! Hah! hah! hah; hah; hah; hah! hah!
_Curtain._