Three Plays: Six Characters in Search of an Author, Henry IV, The Mountain Giants (Oxford World's Classics) (27 page)

COUNT
. For me to belittle the play is to belittle her [
referring to his wife
] and to belittle the price I put on what she has done. I’ve paid for it with my whole estate, and I don’t care and I regret nothing. As long as she can hold her head up high, and as long as the state I’ve been reduced to is at least ennobled by the grandeur and beauty of the work itself. If not, then the contempt of those people … you know what I mean … and the laughter … [
he is stifled with emotion
]

COTRONE
. But my dear Count, I hate those people myself. That’s why I live here. The proof? See this. [
He shows the fez that he has been holding ever since the visitors’ arrival and shoves it on his head
] I used to be a Christian; now I’m a Turk.

LA SGRICIA
. Oh, oh. Let’s not touch religion. Not religion!

COTRONE
. Calm down, dear, nothing to do with Mohammed. I say
I’m a Turk because there’s no poetry left in Christianity. But good God, was there really so much hostility?

COUNT
. No, not really. We did find friends here and there …

SPIZZI
. Full of enthusiasm …

DIAMANTE
[
glumly
]. But not many.

CROMO
. And the theatre managers cancelled our contracts and kept us out of the big cities with the excuse that we no longer had the numbers, or the scenery and the costumes.

COUNT
. And it’s not true. We still have everything we need to put on the play.

BATTAGLIA
. The costumes are over there in those bags.

LUMACHI
. Under the hay…

SPIZZI
. And in any case, they’re not absolutely necessary.

CROMO
. And the scenery?

COUNT
. We’ve always managed so far.

BATTAGLIA
. Some of the roles can be doubled. I play both a man and a woman.

CROMO
. Offstage as well.

BATTAGLIA
[
with a feminine wave of the hand
]. Now that’s mean!

SACERDOTE
. In short, we can handle anything.

DIAMANTE
. And we leave nothing out. What we can no longer perform, we read.

SPIZZI
. And the play’s so wonderful that nobody cares if we’re a few actors short or if some of the props are missing.

COUNT
[
to
COTRONE
]. There’s nothing missing, nothing! Don’t listen to him. Always this damned old relish for running ourselves down!

COTRONE
. I admire your spirit; but believe me, you don’t need to convince me that it’s a fine play and an excellent spectacle. You were directed to me by a friend who lives rather far away. Perhaps he couldn’t contact you, or maybe he was too late, but he didn’t pass on my advice, which was to stop you from venturing as far as this.

COUNT
. Oh yes? Why?

SPIZZI
. So there’s nothing doing here?

CROMO
. I told you so.

LUMACHI
. I guessed as much. Up in those mountains!

COTRONE
. Now just be patient. Don’t lose heart. We’ll fix up something.

DIAMANTE
. But where, if there’s nothing here?

COTRONE
. Not in town, that’s for sure. And if you’ve left your things there, you’d better go and pick them up.

COUNT
. Isn’t there a theatre in the town?

COTRONE
. Yes, infested with mice and always closed. And even if it were open, nobody would go there.

QUAQUÈO
. They’re thinking of pulling it down …

COTRONE
. To make a little stadium …

QUAQUÈO
. For racing and wrestling.

MARA-MARA
. No, no. I heard they want to turn it into a cinema.
^*

COTRONE
. Don’t even think of it!

COUNT
. So where then? There are no houses round here.

DIAMANTE
. Where have we ended up?

SPIZZI
. They did refer us to you.

COTRONE
. And here I am. Entirely at your service, along with my friends. Don’t you worry: we’ll see, we’ll think it over, we’ll come up with something. In the meantime, if you would care to come in … You must be tired. We should be able to put you up for the night somehow. It’s a large house.

BATTAGLIA
. A bite of supper?

COTRONE
. Yes, but you’d do well to follow our example.

BATTAGLIA
. Which is?

DOCCIA
. Do without everything and have no need of anything.

QUAQUÈO
. Don’t scare them.

BATTAGLIA
. What if you need everything?

COTRONE
. Come on in!

BATTAGLIA
. How can you go without everything?

COTRONE
. My lady Countess … [
Now slumped on the bench
,
ILSE
shakes her head
] You won’t come in?

QUAQUÈO
[
to
DOCCIA
]. You see, she doesn’t want to go inside.

COUNT
. She will. Later. [
To
COTRONE
] Look after the others, by all means.

DIAMANTE
. You think we should accept?

CROMO
. At least get a roof over your heads. You don’t want to stay out here in the damp of the night.

BATTAGLIA
. And we do need something to eat.

COTRONE
. Of course, of course. We’ll find something. You see to it, Mara-Mara.

MARA-MARA
. Yes, yes. Come on in, come on.

LUMACHI
. Well we certainly can’t go all the way back to town. I do have the cart, thanks very much! The problem is that I have to pull it myself!

SACERDOTE
[
to
BATTAGLIA
as he makes his way into the house
]. The less you eat the better you sleep.

BATTAGLIA
. At first, yes. But then, old boy, it starts gnawing away and wrecks both your sleep and your stomach.

COTRONE
[
to
LUMACHI
]. The cart can stay here outside. [
To
DOCCIA
] Doccia, you think about finding everybody a place.

SPIZZI
. Especially the Countess!

CROMO
. Let’s hope there’ll be room for everyone.

MILORDINO
. Everyone, everyone. There are rooms to spare.

LA SGRICIA
[
to
COTRONE
]. Not mine, though. I’m not giving up mine for anybody.

COTRONE
. Not yours. Don’t worry. We all know. It’s the old chapel, with the organ.

QUAQUÈO
[
pushing them on with glee
]. In we go! In we go! What fun! I’ll be a naughty boy. I’ll dance on the keyboard like a cat.

They all go into the villa, except for
ILSE
,
the
COUNT
,
and
COTRONE
.

A brief pause

The last gleams of twilight fade and the lights dim on the stage. Moonlight slowly floods the scene
.
COTRONE
waits until all the others have gone inside and then, after a brief pause, resumes the conversation in a calmer tone
.

COTRONE
. For the Countess there’s the old master-bedroom just as it was. It’s the only one that still has a key, and I’ve got it.

ILSE
[
still sitting in silence, brooding: then in a distant voice
].

Five bold tomcats in a ring,

Prowling and miaowling round,

Eager all to spring and mate with

Pretty puss who’s panting for it.

But when one dares to make a move

All the others jump upon him,

Scuffling, scratching, fighting, biting,

Chasing and escaping …

COTRONE
[
aside to the Count
]. Is she going over her lines?

COUNT
[
answering in a whisper
]. No, it’s not her part. [
Angrily picking up the refrain
]

‘Yes, yes, yes!’

ILSE.

And do these cats delight to play

Such tricks upon a baby’s head?

Behold, behold!

COUNT
. ‘And what should I behold?’

ILSE
. Here, this plait of woven hair. [
She immediately changes her tone to that of a mother protecting her baby’s head by clasping it to her breast
] No, no, my golden child. [
Then, in the same tone as before
]

Do you see it? Woe betide

Us all if ever comb should touch

Or scissors cut that plait, for then

The child would surely die.

COTRONE
. The Countess has an enchanting voice … I think she might feel better if she came into the house for a while.

COUNT
. Come, Ilse; come on, dear. At least you’ll get a bit of rest.

COTRONE
. We may lack the essentials but we have such an abundance of the superfluous. Just you wait and see. Even outside. The wall of this facade. It’s enough for me to give a shout … [
Cups his hands round his mouth and shouts
] Holà! [
Immediately, at the sound of his voice, the facade of the villa is flooded with a fantastic dawn light
] And the walls send forth light!

ILSE
[
entranced like a child
]. Oh, how lovely!

COUNT
. How did you manage that?

COTRONE
. They call me Cotrone the Magician. I make a modest living from these spells. I create them. And now just watch. [
He cups his hands around his mouth again and calls
] Blackout! [
The faint moonlight returns as the light on the facade goes out
] It seems that the night makes this kind of darkness for the fireflies who break it as they fly here and there—who knows where—with their faint flashes of green. Well, look: there … there … there …

As he speaks he points in three different directions and for a moment, as far away as the foot of the mountain, three green apparitions glimmer like fading phantoms
.

ILSE
. Good Lord, what was that?

COUNT
. What are they?

COTRONE
. Fireflies. Mine. The Magician’s fireflies. Here, Countess, it’s like being on the borders of life. At a word, those borders dissolve, and the invisible enters in: phantoms loom in the mist. It’s natural. Things happen that usually happen only in dreams. I make them happen while we are awake as well. That is all. Dreams, music, prayers, love … all that is infinite in man—you will find it within or around this villa.

At this point, looking very annoyed
,
LA SGRICIA
reappears on the threshold
.

LA SGRICIA
. Cotrone, you’ll find that we get no more visits from the Angel Hundred-and-One;
^*
I’m warning you.

COTRONE
. Of course he’ll come, Sgricia, don’t worry! Come over here.

LA SGRICIA
[
approaching
]. After the kind of talk I’ve been hearing from those devils back there!

COTRONE
. Don’t you know that you should never be afraid of words? [
Presenting her
] Here’s the one who prays for us all. La Sgricia of the Angel Hundred-and-One. She came to live here with us because the Church wouldn’t recognize the miracle that the Angel Hundred-and-One worked specially for her.

ILSE
. Hundred-and-One?

COTRONE
. Yes, because he’s in charge of a hundred souls in Purgatory, and he leads them out every night on holy missions.

ILSE
. Oh yes? And what was the miracle?

COTRONE
[
to
LA SGRICIA
]. Go on, Sgricia. Tell the story, tell it to the Countess.

LA SGRICIA
[
frowning
]. You won’t believe it.

ILSE
. Of course I’ll believe it.

COTRONE
. Nobody could be more inclined to believe it than the Countess. It was when she had to go to a nearby village where her sister lived …

At this point, as if from high up in the air, comes a Voice—monotonous, echoing, but clear:

VOICE
. An ill-famed village, as there are still many, alas, in this wild island.

COTRONE
[
hurriedly reassuring the
COUNT
and
COUNTESS
who hardly know where to look in their amazement
]. It’s nothing. Just voices. Have no fear. Let me explain …

VOICE
[
from the cypress
]. Where a man can be killed like a fly.

COUNTESS
[
terrified
]. My God! Who’s speaking?

COUNT
. Where are these voices coming from?

COTRONE
. Don’t get upset, Countess; now don’t get upset. They form in the air. I shall explain.

LA SGRICIA
. They are those who have been murdered. Can you hear? Can you hear?

COTRONE
,
smiling, makes a discreet sign to the
COUNTESS
as if to say, behind
LA SGRICIA
’
s back: ‘Don’t believe it, we’re doing it for her.’ But
LA SGRICIA
catches him at it and reacts angrily
.

LA SGRICIA
. And why not? What about the little boy?

COTRONE
[
anxiously, acting the part
]. The little boy, yes of course, the little boy … [
Then to
ILSE
] They tell the story, Countess, of a carter who gave a lift one night to a small boy that he met on the high road somewhere round here. Hearing two or three coppers jingling in the child’s pocket, he killed him in his sleep and took the cash to buy some tobacco as soon as he reached the village. He tossed the little corpse behind a hedge, and, heigh-up! went singing on his way under the stars of heaven …

LA SGRICIA
[
solemn and terrible
]. Under the eyes of God that were watching him! Eyes watching him so closely that you know what he did? When he reached the village at dawn, instead of going to his master, he stopped at the police station, and with the coins of that child still in his bloody hand, he reported his crime as if someone else were speaking through him. You see what God can do?

COTRONE
. With a faith like that, you weren’t afraid to set out at night.

LA SGRICIA
. What night? I didn’t have to leave at night. I wasn’t supposed to leave till dawn. It was my neighbour’s fault, the one I’d asked to lend me the donkey.

COTRONE
. A farmer who’d asked her to marry him.

LA SGRICIA
. That’s got nothing to do with it. With his mind on getting the donkey ready for daybreak, he woke up in the middle of the night: there was moonlight and he mistook it for dawn. As soon as I saw the sky, I realized that it was moonlight not daylight. Well, old as I am, I crossed myself, climbed in the saddle, and set off. But when I was on the high road, at night, in open country, among those frightful shadows, in that silence where the dust muffles even the sound of the donkey’s hooves … and that moon, and the long white road ahead … I pulled my shawl over my eyes, and, covered up like that … well, I don’t rightly know how it was, what with the slow going and me feeling so weak … but the fact is that at a certain point I seemed to wake up and there I was between two long files of soldiers …

COTRONE
[
as if drawing attention to the imminent miracle
]. Yes, now for it …

LA SGRICIA
[
continuing
]. They marched on both sides of the road, those soldiers; and at their head, in front of me, in the middle of
the way, on his majestic white horse, rode the Captain. I felt so much better when I saw them and I thanked God for seeing to it that on the very night of my journey those soldiers too should be on their way to Favara.
^*
But why were they all so silent? Young lads of twenty, with an old woman on a donkey in the middle—and they weren’t laughing; you couldn’t even hear their footsteps; they didn’t so much as raise the dust … Why? How? I found out at daybreak when we came in sight of the village. The Captain halted on his big white horse and waited for me to catch up with him. ‘Sgricia,’ he said, ‘I am the Angel Hundred-and-One and these who have escorted you thus far are souls from Purgatory. As soon as you arrive, set yourself right with God, for before midday you will die.’ And he vanished with his holy band.

COTRONE
[
quickly
]. But now for the best part! When her sister saw her turn up like that, all pale and staring …

LA SGRICIA
. ‘What’s the matter with you?’, she screams. And me:

‘Call me a confessor.’

‘Are you feeling ill?’

‘I’ll die before midday.’

[
She spreads her arms out wide
] And in fact … [
She stoops to look the
COUNTESS
in the eyes and asks
] Do you by any chance think you’re still alive? [
She wags a finger in her face to signal ‘no’
]

VOICE
[
from behind the cypress
]. Don’t you believe it.

With an approving smile, the little old lady gestures to the
COUNTESS
as if to say: ‘You hear what he says?’; then, still smiling and satisfied, she goes back into the house
.

ILSE
[
first turning towards the cypress, then looking at
COTRONE
]. Does she think she’s dead?

COTRONE
. In another world, Countess, along with all of us.

ILSE
[
very disturbed
]. What world? And these voices?

COTRONE
. Accept them. Don’t try to explain them. I could …

COUNT
. But are they some kind of trick?

COTRONE
[
to the
COUNT
]. If they help her to enter into another truth, far from the one you know, so transient and unstable … [
To the
COUNTESS
] stay there, stay in that distance and try to look with
the eyes of this old woman who has seen the Angel. Give up all reasoning. Our life is made of this. Lacking everything, but with all the time in the world for ourselves: a wealth beyond counting, a ferment of dreams. The things around us speak and make sense only in those arbitrary forms that we chance to give them in our despair. Our own kind of despair, mind you. We are rather calm and lazy; as we sit around, we think up—what shall I say?—mythological enormities: quite natural ones too, given the sort of life we lead. One cannot live off nothing, and so our life is one long celestial binge. We breathe the air of fable. Angels come down among us as a matter of course; and everything that is born within us is a wonder to ourselves. We hear voices, laughter; we see enchantments shaped and rising in every shadowy corner, created by the colours left jumbled in our eyes, dazzled by this island’s excessive sun. The unreplying dark is not for us. The shapes are not invented by us: they are the desires of our own eyes. [
He listens
] Now. I hear her coming. [
He shouts
] Magdalen! [
Then, pointing
] There, on the bridge.

MARY MAGDALEN
^*
appears on the bridge in the reddish light shed by the lamp in her hand. She is young, with tawny hair and golden skin. She wears a red peasant dress and looks like a flame
.

ILSE
. God above, who is it?

COTRONE
. The Red Lady. Don’t be afraid, Countess, she’s flesh and blood. Come here, come, Magdalen. [
And while
MAGDALEN
approaches, he adds
] A poor idiot-girl who can hear but not speak. She’s all alone, with nobody left to turn to and she wanders through the countryside. Men have their way with her and she never understands what has happened to her all too often; she gives birth in the fields. Here she is. She’s always like this, her lips and eyes smiling with the pleasure that she takes and gives. Almost every night she comes to shelter with us at the villa. Go on in, Magdalen.

Still with that smile, sweet on her lips but veiled with suffering in her eyes
,
MAGDALEN
nods her head several times and goes into the house
.

ILSE
. Who owns this villa?

COTRONE
. Us and nobody. The Spirits.

COUNT
. What Spirits?

COTRONE
. Yes. The villa is said to be haunted by Spirits. That’s why the previous owners abandoned it in terror and even left the island, a long time ago.