Three Plays Part 41

SIGNORA SIRELLI. Well, well, well, so then it's he!

SIRELLI (_triumphantly_). I always said it was he.

AGAZZI. Oh, I say! Is that really possible? (_He motions to the company to be quiet_).

SIGNORA FROLA (_joining her hands beseechingly_). My dear friends, what are you really thinking? It is only on this subject that he is a little queer. The point is, you must simply not mention this particular matter to him. Why, really now, you could never suppose that I would leave my daughter shut up with him all alone like that? And yet just watch him at his work and in the office. He does everything he is expected to do and no one in the world could do it better.

AGAZZI. But this is not enough, madam, as you will understand. Do you mean to say that Signor Ponza, your son-in-law, came here and made up a story out of whole cloth?

SIGNORA FROLA. Yes, sir, yes sir, exactly ... only I will explain. You must understand--you must look at things from his point of view.

AGAZZI. What do you mean? Do you mean that your daughter is not dead?

SIGNORA FROLA. G.o.d forbid! Of course she is not dead!

AGAZZI. Well, then, he is the lunatic!

SIGNORA FROLA. No, no, look, look!...

SIRELLI. I always said it was he!...

SIGNORA FROLA. No, look, look, not that, not that! Let me explain.... You have noticed him, haven't you? Fine, strong looking man. Well, when he married my daughter you can imagine how fond he was of her. But alas, she fell sick with a contagious disease; and the doctors had to separate her from him. Not only from him, of course, but from all her relatives. They're all dead now, poor things, in the earthquake, you understand. Well, he just refused to have her taken to the hospital; and he got so over-wrought that they actually had to put him under restraint; and he broke down nervously as the result of it all and he was sent to a sanatorium. But my daughter got better very soon, while he got worse and worse. He had a sort of obsession that his wife had died in the hospital, that perhaps they had killed her there; and you couldn't get that idea out of his head.

Just imagine when we brought my daughter back to him quite recovered from her illness--and a pretty thing she was to look at, too--he began to scream and say, no, no, no, she wasn't his wife, his wife was dead! He looked at her: No, no, no, not at all! She wasn't the woman! Imagine my dear friends, how terrible it all was. Finally he came up close to her and for a moment it seemed that he was going to recognize her again; but once more it was "No, no, no, she is not my wife!" And do you know, to get him to accept my daughter at all again, we were obliged to pretend having a second wedding, with the collusion of his doctors and his friends, you understand!

SIGNORA SIRELLI. Ah, so that is why he says that....

SIGNORA FROLA. Yes, but he doesn't really believe it, you know; and he hasn't for a long time, I am sure. But he seems to feel a need for maintaining the pretense. He can't do without it. He feels surer of himself that way. He is seized with a terrible fear, from time to time, that this little wife he loves may be taken from him again. (_Smiling and in a low, confidential tone_): So he keeps her locked up at home where he can have her all for himself. But he worships her--he worships her; and I am really quite convinced that my daughter is one of the happiest women in the world. (_She gets up_). And now I must be going. You see, my son-in-law is in a terrible state of mind at present. I wouldn't like to have him call, and find me not at home. (_With a sigh, and gesturing with her joined hands_): Well, I suppose we must get along as best we can; but it is hard on my poor girl. She has to pretend all along that she is not herself, but another, his second wife; and I ... oh, as for me, I have to pretend that I am a lunatic when he's around, my dear friends; but I'm glad to, I'm glad to, really, so long as it does him some good. (_The ladies rise as she steps nearer to the door_). No, no, don't let me interrupt your party. I know the way out! Good afternoon! Good afternoon!

(_Bowing and smiling, she goes out through the rear door.

The others stands there in silence, looking at each other with blank astonishment on their faces_).

LAUDISI (_coming forward_). So you want the truth, eh? The truth! The truth! Hah! hah! hah! hah! hah! hah! hah!

_Curtain._

ACT II

_Councillor Agazzi's study in the same house. Antique furnishings with old paintings on the walls. A portiere 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. h.e.l.lo ... h.e.l.lo ... 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 n.o.body 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 doc.u.ment or other....

LAUDISI. Oh, doc.u.ments! Doc.u.ments! 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 doc.u.ments 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 doc.u.ments; 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.