From My Big Orange Book: A beautiful song by Enrico Ruggeri

Oggetti Smarriti  (Lost Objects)

C'è il vestito da sera
There's the evening gown
Che mettevi per me
That you wore for me
Tra le cose che hai dimenticato qui
Among the things you forgot here
Delle scarpe di tela
Some canvas shoes
Consumate dal sole
Faded by the sun
Tra le cose che hai dimenticato qui
Among the things you forgot here
C'è un giornale che ho letto
There's a newspaper that I read
Le candele di cera
The wax candles
Tra le cose ch non hai portato via
Among the things you didn't take away
Il mio primo biglietto
My first note
Quella tua canottiera
That t-shirt of yours
Tra le cose che mi fanno compagnia
Among the things that keep me company
È incredibile pensare a come
It's incredible to think how
A volte si nascondono
Sometimes things hide
Poi saltano di fuori
Then jump out
Quando non le cerchi più
When you're not looking for them anymore
Sono come le persone come noi
They're like people like us
Sono fatte come siamo fatti noi
They're made like us
C'è quel vaso di fiori
There's that flower vase
Che non riempivo più
That I stopped filling
Tra le cose che hai dimenticato qui
Among the things you forgot here
Una stampa a colori
A colored print
Credo fosse Dalì
I think it was Dalì
Tra le cose che hai dimenticato qui
Among the things you forgot here.
E il vento trasporta memorie
And the wind carries memories
Sconfitte vestite dei grandi vittorie
The vanquished garb of great victories
E il vento riporta alla luce
And the wind brings back to light
Certi segni sulla pelle che non cambieranno mai
Certain signs on the skin which won't ever change
Sulle debole persone come noi
On weak people like us
Sulle povere persone come noi
On poor people like us
C'è un'impronta sul muro
There's an imprint on the wall
Perché un quadro non c'è
Because there's no picture there
Tra le cose che hai dimenticato qui
Among the things you forgot here
Tra i coltelli e il caffè
Among the knives and the coffee
Hai lasciato anche me
You forgot me, too
Tra le cose che hai dimenticato qui
Among the things you forgot here

Music and lyrics by Enrico Ruggeri
English translation by Leticia Austria

Marco Praga: The Ideal Wife (Part Four)

(ACT II, cont'd.)
 

Scene 3

GIULIA, GUSTAVO

 

(Gustavo, ill at ease, stands by the desk, Giulia at the opposite side of the room. She looks around, taking in everything, then tosses her fur on a chair. There is a long silence. She then walks about slowly, still scrutinizing every object. )

 

GUSTAVO     Well?

GIULIA     I'm just looking around. I believe this is the second time I've been here. The first time was two years ago. You thought it was imprudent to meet here in broad daylight, so we went back down -- and now here we are, two years later! How funny!  (Continues to look around. )  What a cozy little place! That's your bedroom in there, isn't it? There is the library, and the anteroom. I've a good memory, haven't I? There was a bowl of chestnuts right here, the last time, roasted just for me. And there were flowers, also just for me. But you weren't expecting me today. Oh -- that chair wasn't there before.  (Crosses to it and sits.)  How comfortable! It fits like a glove! Aren't you going to offer me a cigarette?

GUSTAVO    (Holding out the box to her.)  Smoking isn't good for you.

GIULIA     True.  (Takes a cigarette.)  I'll just light one to give the room atmosphere. May I have a  light, please?  (Gustavo hands her a box of matches. )  For goodness' sake, light it for me! Do you think I'm in the habit of carrying matchboxes in my purse?  (Gustavo strikes a match and lifts it to her cigarette. Giulia draws slowly away, obliging him to lean in towards her, their faces very close, almost inviting a kiss. Gustavo throws the match aside and moves away.)  What a frown! Are you in bad humour today, too? Are you still unwell? Do you want me to go?  (Stands.)

GUSTAVO     Didn't you receive my letter?

GIULIA     Oh -- yes. it's right here. I glanced at it.  (Sits back down.)

GUSTAVO     You should have read it more carefully.

GIULIA     I still can; I haven't yet destroyed it. Would you like for us to read it to together?

GUSTAVO     No! You were to have read it yourself, instead of coming here.

GIULIA     Blessed boy! I only wanted to make sure you had gone to Turin.

GUSTAVO     I told you I had.

GIULIA     I had to make sure you were still here.

GUSTAVO     I explained it all in my letter. If you had read it --

GIULIA     Oh, I read it well enough. But I didn't take it seriously. You wrote that we must end it. Why? There has to be a reason for everything in this world. Well? Why must we end it? Has something changed between us? I love you, you love me ..... You do love me, don't you?

GUSTAVO     I've said so, haven't I?

GIULIA     No, never! Then you do love me. Why must we end it?  (She stands, goes to him, and walks slowly around him.)  I forgive you everything. Isn't that kind of me? You've only been preoccupied of late: something has given you cause for worry. This morning I thought: Gustavo needs a great deal of love and affection -- and so I've come to give it.

GUSTAVO     And to take another of those foolish, reckless chances that compromise my peace of mind and yours, and ruin my life. I've scolded you about this before.

GIULIA     Oh, really! Let's just be reasonable for a moment. Do sit down, for heaven's sake! Come and sit next to me. Why are you being so dreadfully formal?  (Silence.)  My husband is in Genova.

GUSTAVO     And?

GIULIA     And? Que tu es bête! And -- so I could come to you.

GUSTAVO     You forget that I live in the center of Milan. Someone could have seen you coming up here. You care nothing for discretion!

GIULIA     I'm not afraid of gossips, for they take most pleasure in gossiping about what they believe to be secret and to malign a woman who takes every precaution to conceal her guilt. But they never bother themselves with women who show no fear.

GUSTAVO     A wonderful theory indeed! And most convenient.

GIULIA     Accurate, as well. And then, you know quite well I could tell my husband of my coming.

GUSTAVO     Here? To my house?

GIULIA     To your office -- and here, if worse comes to worse. I could tell him I came to see you, at any rate.

GUSTAVO     What reason could you give him?

GIULIA     The same reason I gave Monticelli.

GUSTAVO     Ah. Do you think it would suffice?

GIULIA     For Monticelli, well -- he already knows, it seems. But I don't care about that. For my husband, who never doubts me, it would be almost too convincing.

GUSTAVO     You would toy with your life in this way, and with your future, for a lark -- for the sheer pleasure of being reckless?

GIULIA     (Passionately.)  Because I love you! Because I need to see you! I couldn't have stayed home without seeing you all day today, anxious about everything you said to me last night, tormented by what you wrote. Now I can go back home satisfied. Now I am happy and calm.

GUSTAVO     (Standing.)  Good God! You have a very peculiar way of reasoning! This is torture!

GIULIA     (Interrupting him by throwing her arms around his neck.)  Poor man! It is torture to be so loved, isn't it? You're right; I love you too much -- much too much!

GUSTAVO     Lord, such a woman! You must leave now. You've stayed far too long.

GIULIA     It's only been a quarter of an hour. Let me stay just a little longer. Ten minutes? Five?

GUSTAVO     No, I should be going myself. I beg you, go now, Giulia.  (Giulia, disppointed, takes up her fur and begins to put it on. But she spies some papers on his desk, tosses her fur back on the chair, and proceeds to rummage through them.)  What are you doing now? What are you looking for?

GIULIA     Nothing. Merely seeing if there are any letters -- if you are deceiving me.

GUSTAVO     Not this, too!

GIULIA     Are you annoyed? If there's nothing here, then you needn't worry.  (Indicating a locked drawer.)  Will you open this for me?

GUSTAVO     There's nothing in there.

GIULIA    No?

GUSTAVO     Just bills.

GIULIA     Open it.

GUSTAVO     Then will you go?

GIULIA     I promise. Open it.  (Gustavo unlocks the drawer. Giulia looks through its contents.)  bills, bills, bills -- all paid in full. How "rangé" of you!

GUSTAVO     Enough?

GIULIA     Just a moment! What is this -- this rose-coloured paper?

GUSTAVO     Well, have a look, but be quick.

GIULIA     May I? It's nothing compromising. then.  (Begins to put it back, then changes her mind.)  But wait!  (Reads.)  Guglianetti -- ah!

GUSTAVO     Now have you had enough?

GIULIA     Yes.

GUSTAVO     And will you go?

GIULIA     Yes.  (But she lingers, still eyeing the desk.)

GUSTAVO     Well?

GIULIA     (Looking closely at the blotter.)  You can destroy whatever letters you receive, but to whom do you write? The blotter may reveal many things.  (Gustavo makes a gesture of annoyance, and crosses impatiently to the window and gazes out of it distractedly. giulia struggles to read the fragments of writing on the blotter.)  "Affec-tion-ately ... Gustavo ... "  (Turns the blotter this way and that.)  "At-tor-ney at law ... "  (She suddenly has an idea. Taking a small mirror from the desktop, she positions it above the blotter.)  "Costanzo ... Thursday ... twenty-eighth ... My dearest ... " (To Gustavo.)  "Dearest" who?

GUSTAVO     Stop this, I beg you.

GIULIA     Dearest who ?!

GUSTAVO     (Still looking out the window, he suddenly starts in fright. )  Giulia!!

GIULIA     What is it?

GUSTAVO     Your husband!

GIULIA     Oh -- !  (Hastily replaces the blotter and mirror.)

GUSTAVO     He's speaking with the housekeeper.

GIULIA     Heavens! -- has he gone?

GUSTAVO     He knows everything! He pretended to have left town -- and now he's come to surprise us together -- great God!  (Grabs her fur and puts it on.)  Is he coming? Is he coming?

GUSTAVO     He's still speaking to her.  (Hurries from the window, grabbing Giulia roughly by the arm.)  Do you see what you've done? Do you see? Hide!

GIULIA     Where?

GUSTAVO     In the library.

GIULIA     No, no, he may go in there -- better in there --  (Crosses to SL door.)  Go and look! Is he coming up?

GUSTAVO     (At the window.)  He is now.

GIULIA     Great God! How does he look? Angry?

GUSTAVO     I can't see him anymore. Quick!

GIULIA     (Already at the door, she suddenly recovers her composure.)  How stupid of me! He either knows and has come in search of me, or he doesn't  know, and so ...

GUSTAVO     (Nervously.)  So -- if he finds you here -- ?

GIULIA     What if, by chance, he heard from someone that I was here? How could I then explain having hidden in your house? Better that he finds us together openly, without all the subterfuge. He may scold, but he won't suspect. I'm staying!

GUSTAVO     Right here?!

GIULIA     Right here! I've come to tell you about your brother.

GUSTAVO     Here, at my house? Will he believe that?

GIULIA     Of course. At any rate, it's better this way.  (Sits, turning the back of the armchair towards the door in such a way as not to be seen by Andrea.)  Sit down, quick!

GUSTAVO     Are you insane?!

GIULIA     How do I look?

ETTORE     (Entering US.)  Signor Campiani asking to see you.

GIULIA     (Whispering agitatedly to Gustavo.)  Let him in!

GUSTAVO     (To Ettore.)  Show him in.  (Exit Ettore.)

 

END SCENE

 

Scene 4

GIULIA, ANDREA, GUSTAVO

 

ANDREA     (Entering.)  Am I disturbing you?

GUSTAVO     Not at all!

ANDREA     Your housekeeper said you're not well. I was about to leave --

GUSTAVO     (Standing and shaking the hand which Andrea has extended. )  I'm feeling much better.  (Giulia sits with her eyes fixed in feverish anxiety, listening to Andrea's first words. Having heard them, her face relaxes; now, reassured, she has collected herself. Without turning in her chair, she extends her hand to Andrea.)

GIULIA     Good morning.

ANDREA     (Astonished.)  Giulia -- you?!

GIULIA     Then you didn't go to Genova.

ANDREA     Why are you here?

GIULIA     The same reason you're here, I expect. what you said last night about Velati's brother worried me so; I didn't sleep a wink. This morning, I was afraid something may have happened -- you left early; I believed you to be on your way to Genova. And so I said to myself: I must warn Velati. I went to his office, but he wasn't there, so I came here. But you -- why aren't you in Genova?

ANDREA     (Still a bit stupefied. )  I stopped by the Exchange on my way to the station, and found that a dispatch had arrived during the night which obliged me to postpone my trip.

GIULIA     If you had only told me. I would have felt easier in my mind knowing you were coming here.

ANDREA     I went back to the house at ten. You weren't there.

GIULIA     I took Giannino to school, then went to Velati's office.

ANDREA     (Sternly.)  Which proves to me once again that one must never discuss business matters with women -- especially women who are very impressionable.

GIULIA     (Feigning innocence.)  Why?

ANDREA     Because -- there was no reason for you to speak to Velati about this, and you certainly should not have come here to his home.  (To Gustavo.)  I apologize.

GIULIA     But --

ANDREA     Giulia, you are too intelligent to be told this. You should have written to Velati, asking him to come to our house.

GIULIA     But I did go to his office.

ANDREA     And since he wasn't there -- (He stops himself, gives her a disapproving look, silencing any remonstration from her. Then he turns to Gustavo.)  Well, then --

GUSTAVO     (Offering him a chair.)  Please.

ANDREA     Thank you.  (Sits.)  Has Giulia told you?

GUSTAVO     She started to, in fact, but then you arrived. I cannot thank you enough for all you've done --

ANDREA     Good Lord, I've not done anything. Rather, I've come to see about taking the necessary precautions.

GUSTAVO     Then there is some danger?

ANDREA     Nothing that can't be avoided. However, since, I am not going to Genova after all, I thought the day might be put to good use. I believed you to be out of town, so I went to your office to find out where I might write to you.

GUSTAVO     Yes, well -- I decided to stay in town.

ANDREA     I need your authorization.

GUSTAVO     But of course.

ANDREA    Perhaps you would like to explain the situation in detail?

GUSTAVO     I'd understand none of it. Only tell me, are funds needed?

ANDREA     Only your permission to act in whatever way I deem necessary. Should I need to consult you, may I find you in your office?

GUSTAVO     I'm going there now and shall stay till seven.

ANDREA     (Standing up.)  It's quite possible I shall drop by within the next few hours.

GUSTAVO     How can I thank you? But -- are you quite sure money isn't needed?

ANDREA     No; only your signature for payment due january. In the meantime --

GUSTAVO     May I come to your office?

ANDREA     If you prefer. Shall we say, five o'clock?

GUSTAVO     At five, then.

ANDREA     Giulia?  (Turning to her, he sees her putting a handkerchief to her eyes.)  Whatever is the matter?  (Giulia rises, drying her tears. Andrea stares at her a moment, then, still serious, but good-naturedly.)  Dear child!  (To Velati, offering his hand. )  Good day.

GUSTAVO     Again, thanks awfully.

ANDREA     Don't mention it.  (Lowering his voice, confidentially.)  By the way -- let me be the first to congratulate you.

GUSTAVO     Congratulate me for what?

ANDREA     Perhaps it's a bit premature, but her father has confided to me, my friend --

GUSTAVO     (Flustered. )  Really ...

ANDREA     Oh, come now!

GIULIA     (Suddenly alert, her eyes wide.)  You're engaged?!

ANDREA     Not yet -- but it seems that it may be in the works. That is, one may assume --

GIULIA     Signorina Bianchi!

ANDREA     There! You've already guessed the lady. But our friend may want to keep it secret yet.

GUSTAVO     I'm a close friend of the family; nothing more.

GIULIA     Yes, everybody knows how close .... My congratulations.

GUSTAVO     This is all very premature, I assure you.

ANDREA     (Heartily.)  We shall see! We shall see! I'll expect you later this afternoon?

GUSTAVO     Without fail.  (Giulia, meanwhile, unnoticed by the others, drops a glove on one of the chairs. Then arm-in-arm with Andrea, she crosses US. )

GIULIA     Till tomorrow.  (All three exit through the US door, repeating their farewells. Giulia's voice is heard OS. )  Oh, my glove!  (Re-enters, preceded by Gustavo, who runs to fetch her glove.)  I left it there, on that chair. (Gustavo finds it and brings it to her. She takes it and slaps his face with it, whispering furiously.)  Don't even think  of marrying her!  (Exit.)

 

END OF ACT II

 

[To be continued.]

Marco Praga: The Ideal Wife (Part Three)

ACT II

A salon in Gustavo Velati's house. Doors US and on both sides. Window, R. A desk, L. Elegant furnishings. Weapons, knickknacks, paintings, photographs.

 

Scene 1

GUSTAVO, COSTANZO

(Gustavo is stretched out on the divan. Enter Costanzo US.)

 

GUSTAVO     Is that you, Costanzo? Hallo.

COSTANZO     Ah -- the idle rich! There's always some poor chump who'll fetch and carry for them. Isn't that so? Your note this morning clearly demonstrates it:  (Pulls a note from his pocket and read.)  "Feeling a bit wretched today, will not come to office. Request deferment of Caudalari suit, send Ponti contract to Registry, to hell with the clients, if they come." All of which I've done. I obtained the deferment, sent the contract, and --

GUSTAVO     Told the clients to go to hell?

COSTANZO     To heaven. More certain they shan't want to come back. Let's see what's the matter with you.  (Places his hand on Gustavo's wrist.)  Slight fever. And your face is chalky -- lucky man! You won't  be seeing clients today!  (Hands him a parcel.)  Here is the Corbellini-Trevisani file with the opposing argument. Look it over soon; the hearing is scheduled for the twelfth.

GUSTAVO     (Looking towards the window.)  I'd say you're in for it today.

COSTANZO     Yes, it's snowing. Come to me, o lust for labor!

GUSTAVO     'Tisn't lust for labor I'm lacking.

COSTANZO     No -- 'tis the will, the desire, the vigour -- or what do you call it? Just so we understand each other.

GUSTAVO     My friend, I'm in the lowest of spirits -- morally ill, I assure you. And if I don't get out of the situation in which I now find myself, I don't know how it shall end.

COSTANZO     Ah.

GUSTAVO     It may end with my closing the office, the house, and going away.

GUSTAVO     I'd hand it over to you lock, stock, and barrel.

COSTANZO     (Draws a chair near him and sits.)  Joking aside -- what is it?

GUSTAVO     Are you asking me to confide in you?

COSTANZO     If you trust me.

GUSTAVO     As a friend, I do; you've proven yourself. But I fear you might not be completely serious with me.

COSTANZO     In times of need, friendship is the guarantor of sobriety.

GUSTAVO     Here it is, then: I find myself in the situation of a man -- who has a lover -- and he now finds it necessary to -- end it.

COSTANZO     Necessary on her part, or his?

GUSTAVO     His.

COSTANZO     Yours, you mean. Then pay her and take your leave.

GUSTAVO     And if she's not the sort one pays?

COSTANZO     Pass her on to a friend.

GUSTAVO     (Stands up abruptly in annoyance.)  You call that serious! I need to confide in someone; I need help and advice. Why did I ever confide in you?

COSTANZO     Come here!  (Crosses to him.)  Listen -- (Whispering.)  -- is it Signora Campiani?

GUSTAVO     You know?!

COSTANZO     The whole world knows!

GUSTAVO     Oh -- the whole world knows, and you never told me?

COSTANZO     I like that! You're the one who never said a word to me! It wouldn't have been "office etiquette" -- unfortunately.

GUSTAVO     I told no one about this.

COSTANZO     Nevertheless. Are you so surprised? Let's say we took a stroll along the Corso between four and six o'clock Of all the ladies we encounter, I could tell you which of them have lovers. I could even give you names. Don't look so appalled! I'd only be telling you what you know already -- what everyone knows. Even the husbands, some of them. But not good old Campiani! 

GUSTAVO     "Good old Campiani." You sound as though you're making sport of him.

COSTANZO     Yes, well, I should say we both  are.

GUSTAVO     Still -- if there's one deceived husband who shouldn't be made sport of, it's Campiani.

COSTANZO     Oh?

GUSTAVO     Certainly. He has no reason to doubt his wife. I dare say he hasn't the right.

COSTANZO     Tosh!

GUSTAVO     I'm perfectly serious. She is a singular woman, incomprehensible to anyone who observes her at home yet knows she is unfaithful, because she manages to belong to two men at once. She gives her heart and flesh to one; to the other, her mind and soul. Thus, she is both passionate lover and loving wife. This is why her adoring husband never suspects a thing! Tell me: does the poor husband ever find out his wife's transgression? If he does, it's because the wife gives herself away. It's true! From the day a woman takes a lover, she considers her husband a nuisance -- treats him indifferently, neglects him, or denies him husbandly rights. The good man, seeing she no longer loves him, must necessarily think that someone or something has taken his place. So he begins to doubt and become suspicious. He observes his wife, scrutinizes her every act and word, and his doubt increases. He spies, sleuths, sets traps. And then he finds the lover.

COSTANZO     And the indiscreet servants? The anonymous letters? What about all those tell-tale signs of conjugal infidelity?

GUSTAVO     Those things are found more in the theatre than in real life, but at times they may indeed play a part as complementary or reinforcing elements, and are very effective when doubt has already begun to insinuate itself. But, see here, if an anonymous letter were sent to Campiani, he would tear it up in disgust; or, better still, he'd show it to his wife and the two of them would have a good laugh over it after dinner.

COSTANZO     You think so?

GUSTAVO     I'm sure of it. You've no idea how Giulia is towards her husband. She is poetic in her affection, a model of loving care, not one misstep or oversight; never does she falter. Yet, with me, she is an ardent lover. Nothing deters or daunts her; she'll take all sorts of reckless chances when she thinks them necessary. If I haven't been to see her for a week, she comes to my office, You've seen her there. But upon returning home, she makes no effort to hide it; she tells her husband of her visit, as naturally and easily as you please, conjuring up a convincing reason for it. And after having left me and gone back to him, she shows no sign of sulkiness, shame, or annoyance. Rather, she is vivacious and affectionate. She may even have the foresight to bring him a little gift, just a small something to show him he is always in her mind, that she thinks of no one but him, whether she's with him or not; she finds the sweetest, most loving words to murmur in his ear. And he, who is certainly no fool, thinks the world would come to an end before he'd suspect his wife of infidelity.

COSTANZO     Does she love you?

GUSTAVO     I don't know. But surely no woman in love has done better or more than Giulia has done for me.

COSTANZO     Well, that's marvellous.

GUSTAVO     D'you want to hear more? Remember last year I went to Brescia to argue a case? Well -- I'd only been there a few hours when Giulia appears. "My darling," she said, "I have a cousin who lives here. So I've come to spend a few days with her. Is this not a fine opportunity?" She stayed three days. when I wasn't in court, she was with me -- but when I was, do you know how she spent her time? Writing letters to her husband, pages and pages, full of affection, telling his all sorts of pretty stories. In her first letter she wrote: "You'll never guess -- Velati is here is town! I've introduced him to cousin Elena, who found him very agreeable. confidentially, I believe he is quite taken with her!" And the day before she went home, she wrote: "I return tomorrow. I'm enjoying myself well enough here, but I cannot stay any longer. I miss you and Giannino so."

COSTANZO     Marvellous.

GUSTAVO     But all this apparently brazen behaviour comes not from corruption of spirit, nor is it calculated on her part. She is by nature truly good -- and she isn't even aware of it.

COSTANZO     My good man, I wonder if this woman is indeed the ideal wife!

GUSTAVO     "Ideal" is a relative term.

COSTANZO     Relative, yes -- as is everything in this world, including honesty. Tell me -- what is ideal to a man with a limp? Is it to be able to walk perfectly? No, indeed, for he knows very well that that is impossible. His ideal is simply to find a pair of shoes that will make his seem to walk perfectly. Nowadays, in this corrupt society in which we live, in which a woman is surrounded by temptations, and everything conspires against her integrity, the completely prudent and faithful wife is an exception; she is an idol to whom we should build an altar. The man who possesses her is a being privileged beyond the laws of the world. But for most, the ideal must be a woman who manages to remain a good, loving wife towards her husband, even if she has a lover. She must avoid scandal and the unhappiness of her children, and maintain peace at home, a true and sincere peace; not the fictitious, conventional sort such as that one so often sees; the sort that merely camouflages scorn and hostility. Don't you agree?

GUSTAVO     With that kind of thinking, I shouldn't ever want a wife!

COSTANZO     Precisely -- and so I shall never have one.  (Pause.)  So you must -- that is, you want to leave this woman?

GUSTAVO     Yes.

COSTANZO     What for?

GUSTAVO     Because our affair has already lasted two years, and cannot last the rest of our lives!

COSTANZO     Is that all? Eh, my friend, it seems that when it concerns matters of the heart you are not completely honest! May I correct you? You want to leave her because you no longer love her.

GUSTAVO     And what if that's true? Would that be my fault? Can one's heart be controlled? I've loved her these two years, without even a thought of another woman. And now I don't love her; should I feel guilty? Who would condemn me for it?

COSTANZO     Who's condemning? Has anyone said anything of the sort to you? Good God, but you're sensitive!

GUSTAVO     My friend, it's a sensitive situation I'm in. I swear to you, Costanzo, the distaste of being tied to a woman I no longer love is a thousand times stronger than the joy I felt at our first assignation. A stale love is like an extortionist whom you cannot pay, who sucks the very blood from your veins!

COSTANZO     I believe you!

GUSTAVO     It won't do for me. I'm thirty years old, with no family, living in someone else's house .... I'd have to be a much younger man to find all this attractive. I've got to think of my future.

COSTANZO     I understand. You want a wife.  (Pause.)  Well, my friend, it's always difficult to break the chain -- even more so with a woman like that. Best summon the courage and tell her.

GUSTAVO     Tell her what?

COSTANZO     That you no longer love her.

GUSTAVO     You think I should find the courage, do you? I've reduced my visits to her house, I've been remote and cold towards her -- all to no avail. Last night, after avoiding her for a week, I went to see her, determined to find a way to end it.

COSTANZO     And?

GUSTAVO     We left each other more friendly than ever. If only I could end it! After all, she doesn't deserve this cold treatment. Perhaps it's more cruel than one decisive blow .... If only I had the courage to do it! I wrote her a long letter last night --

COSTANZO    Telling her you no longer love her?

GUSTAVO     Oh, no, no! I couldn't say that. I wrote that it is necessary to leave each other.

COSTANZO     She'll come looking for you, then you'll leave each other, yes -- more friendly than ever.

GUSTAVO     She thinks I'm gone for the time being. Which is another reason I didn't go to the office today.

ETTORE     (Entering US.)  Pardon me, but there is a lady asking to see you.

GUSTAVO     Good God! I can't escape these clients, not even in my own home!

COSTANZO     (Softly.)  Perhaps it's she!

GUSTAVO     Oh, no -- impossible!  (To Ettore.)  Did she give her name?

ETTORE     No, Signore.

GUSTAVO     Did you tell her that I have company?

ETTORE     Yes, I said you were with the lawyer Monticelli. She said she knows him.

GUSTAVO     (To Costanzo.)  It can't be she!  (To Ettore.)  Show her in.  (Exit Ettore.)

COSTANZO     Hadn't I better clear out?

GUSTAVO     Where? Anyhow, she already knows you're here.  (Enter Giulia.)

 

END SCENE

 

Scene 2

GIULIA, GUSTAVO, COSTANZO

 

GIULIA     "Honi sort qui mal y pense!"  (To Costanzo.)  Good day to you!  (To Gustavo.)  Hello, Velati. They told me at your office you aren't feeling well. So I asked for you (to Costanzo ).  Then I thought: I desperately need to speak with Velati about a matter very personal to him. Could I go to his house? After all, I would find a mutual friend there ... it wouldn't be just the two of us, alone. Was I right, then? Or wrong? I don't really know .... after all, are we or are we not friends? And one must take chances for one's friends. (To Costanzo.)  Don't you think so?

COSTANZO     Only when one has nothing to fear.

GIULIA     (Looks at him sharply for a moment, then turns to Gustavo.)  Didn't you go to Turin?  (To Costanzo.)  And weren't you to go, as well?  (Gustavo offers her a chair; she sits.)

COSTANZO     In fact -- that is -- he was to go -- but we had a telegram this morning -- a deferment --

GIULIA     Ah, a deferment! Yes -- I also was depending on that deferment (turning to Gustavo ) in order to see you today.  (Pause.)  Well, as I said before, I must speak with you about a very important matter.  (Seeing that Costanzo is gathering some papers and preparing to leave.)  Must you go? No need for such discretion, my dear friend. I shall say what I have to say to Velati, then we'll leave together. All right?

COSTANZO     As you wish.

GIULIA     (To Gustavo.)  It's to do with your brother. Oh, I beg pardon -- I didn't think. Perhaps Monticelli ... ?

GUSTAVO    Costanzo is my good friend; he knows everything about me.

GIULIA     Everything?

GUSTAVO     Everything a man would confide to a friend when he requires his friend's advice.

GIULIA     Well -- as you know, my husband sought out some information last night. And he told you he didn't find out anything. But --

GUSTAVO     But?

GIULIA     Not to worry; it isn't gravely serious. He only heard that your brother has involved himself in a slightly risky affair. Andrea didn't want to tell you last night, for fear of worrying you too much. He told me after you left, and that he had already taken steps to remedy the situation.

GUSTAVO     Such as?

GIULIA     I don't know. But he assured me that nothing serious would happen, thanks to these measures he thought best to take immediately.

GUSTAVO     (Rising.)  I had better see him right away.

GIULIA     Oh, Andrea isn't there. He left early this morning for Genova. So I thought perhaps -- you know how impressionable we women are, and how we're always imagining all sorts of things -- I thought someone else might come here today to inform you about this and worry you needlessly -- in short, I feared some catastrophe -- . And then, since my husband is away today, I thought I myself should come right away to reassure you. I went to your office, then here. Monticelli, don't you think I was duty-bound by friendship to do so? You would defend me, wouldn't you, if necessary? Oh, by the way -- my husband would like you to dine with us, both of you. So long as you are both here, shall we say tomorrow at six?

COSTANZO    (Preparing to go.)  I thank you; it would be a great pleasure.

GIULIA     Must you go? Won't you wait for me?  (Rises and crosses to him, whispering, half-serious and half-teasing.)  Now, you mustn't make any hasty judgements! But if you will, use a little discretion.  (Aloud.)  Till tomorrow, then.

COSTANZO     Yes, tomorrow.  (To Gustavo.)  Will you be coming to the office?

GUSTAVO     Yes, I'll be there shortly.  (Exit Costanzo.)

 

END SCENE.

 

[To be continued.]



Marco Praga: The Ideal Wife, Part Two

(ACT I, cont'd.)

 

Scene 3

GIULIA, GUSTAVO

 

(Giulia remains at the door for a moment until Teresa has gone. She then closes the door softly and goes swiftly to Gustavo, who is standing with his back to the fire. She throws her arms round his neck.)

GUSTAVO     (Attempting to push her away gently.)  Take care; someone may come in.

GIULIA     No one will come. What a wonderful surprise you've given me! I didn't expect you this evening.  (Gustavo makes another attempt.)  Are you annoyed with me?

GUSTAVO     No, darling, but after all, we mustn't court danger.  (He slips from her embrace and sits.)

GIULIA     Danger? But there is none -- and you've never been much worried about that.

GUSTAVO     It's high time I started being sensible, and you, as well.

GIULIA     Don't you love me any more, then?

GUSTAVO     Of course I do; I shall always love you. But think, Giulia -- if someday I were to tell you we must leave each other and go back to being the good friends we once were, even then I would love you as I do now, as I did the day you became mine. You must believe me -- and you must obey me.

GIULIA     (Stricken.)  I would only believe it if I cease to love you.  (Suddenly runs to US door, opens it, looks outside, closes it again, runs back to Gustavo and sits beside him.)  Why are you telling me all this? Why do you say these things? Tell me, Gustavo, please, tell me!

GUSTAVO     To make you think clearly so that you may realize, once for all, your situation and ours.

GIULIA     Are you tired of me? Bored? Do you want to end it?

GUSTAVO     Hush! For God's sake!

GIULIA     How nervous you are tonight!

GUSTAVO     Because of this foolish recklessness of yours. Barely is your husband down the stairs and Teresa out of the room, and you throw your arms round my neck. He might have come back in, and that would've been your ruin; or she  might have, and we'd have no more peace -- at the very least, we should both look ridiculous.

GIULIA     Gustavo! You worry as much about my being ruined as you do about looking ridiculous in front of the maid?  (Pauses.)  You're merely pretending, and the worry of pretending makes you say horrible things.  (Sits at the table and buries her face in her hands.)

GUSTAVO     (Lights a cigarette.)  Darling, you don't understand --

GIULIA     Oh, be quiet! You are right; I don't understand anything; you're making my head spin! Oh, God -- and I thought your visit tonight would be such a treat for me!  (Gustavo makes an impatient gesture. He gets up and goes to the fireplace. Giulia looks at him for a moment, then goes to him, affectionate once again.)  Tell me the truth, Gustavo. What is wrong with you? We've not seen each other these two days. Has something happened? Something that has annoyed you? Are you unwell? Tell me, tell me -- you're not angry with me, are you? Tell me, Gustavo.  (Begins to embrace him, but he gently pushes her away.)  No, no, I won't touch you -- someone may see us like this. There, is that better? But tell me what's happened. I'll forgive you anything. I know -- it's something to do with your business -- something tiresome.

GUSTAVO     No, nothing like that.

GIULIA     Yes -- you're in bad humour. Do you want to leave? Are you sorry you came? We'll see each other tomorrow, then after ... well, then. Do you want to go?

GUSTAVO     Are you sending me away?

GIULIA     No -- but I'm afraid I'm annoying you. I'm afraid that if you stay you may say more hurtful things to me without reason, and I must forgive you; for I know you're in bad humour, that is all. Tomorrow you'll be your old self again.  (Takes the cigarette from his mouth and embraces him.)

GUSTAVO     What, again?!

GIULIA     No, no, I won't touch you! And you won't tell me why you're so worried, so ill-humoured? Come, tell me; it would make me feel so much better. Tell me everything, then.

GUSTAVO     (Moves away from the fireplace and begins to pace. Giulia remains with her face towards the mirror in which she watches him.)  Good God, how you blow everything out of proportion! What have I said, after all? Only what is right. Women are said to have so much insight and sensitivity where men are concerned, yet sometimes you still manage to misunderstand. For instance, you don't understand that here in your house, your husband's house, I've no wish to be anything but a friend to you. Speaking as an honest man, my conscience is repulsed by the idea of betraying him under his own roof. I am incensed by it all!

GIULIA     Since when?

GUSTAVO     Since -- always! In the first days of our affair, when I was carried away by passion, I was able to put your husband from my mind. But I can't anymore. I tell you, it's time to be sensible, and I am being sensible.

GIULIA     You're lying, as well!  (Turns away.)  Oh, how you lie! And you speak of having the conscience of an honest man! What conscience? What honesty? Do you know what the real truth is, the only  truth? If you say you no longer love me, without dissimilating, and with no hypocrisy. Because you don't  love me anymore; I know that very well. You are so changed and have been for some time now. There was a time when it pained you not to be able to come here often to see me, and the time we did have together wasn't enough for you, no matter where we were! And you sought excuses to come, even resorted to subterfuge. And now -- after you obviously didn't feel the need to see me for two days -- when I saw you come in tonight and heard the reason for your visit, I knew immediately it was just a pretence. I know very well you are not worried about your brother. And I was glad of it, and thought the old Gustavo had come back -- so I threw my arms round you! But it was only an excuse to tell me you are leaving me.  (Silence.)  Have you no answer? Have you nothing at all to say?

GUSTAVO     (Lighting another cigarette.)  What would you have me say to all this absurdity?

GIULIA     Absurdity, is it? No more absurd than everything you said only a moment ago.

GUSTAVO     What right have you to doubt what I said?

GIULIA     Poor man! Do you think, then, that I can justify your coldness, your revulsion, with a sudden reawakening of your conscience, a sudden ... compassion for my husband?  (Hearing the US door opening, she composes herself.) 

TERESA     (In the doorway.)  Signora ...

GIULIA     What is it?

TERESA     It's past nine. Shall I put the boy to bed?

GIULIA     Yes, of course. Did he study his lesson?

TERESA     Only for a little, I'm afraid.

GIULIA     It doesn't matter. Put him to bed; it's late.  (Teresa exits. Gustavo goes again to the fireplace. The US door reopens and Teresa re-enters, leading Giannino by the hand.)  Good night, my darling.  (She hugs him; he turns to leave.)  Won't you say goodnight to Signor Velati?  (Giannino goes to Gustavo, who bends down to kiss him. He then exits, Teresa holding his hand. A long silence, then Giulia sits without looking at Gustavo.)  You used to be jealous of my husband becaue I've always had the decency, or the good fortune, not to hate him, as almost all women who have lovers hate their husbands. They neglect them and treat them ill. But not I. He is a good, honest man, and he loves me.  He is the father of my child! I was never in love with him; perhaps that's why it's easy for me to be fond of him; for we women only hate men that we've been in love with, then fallen out of love with. But, although I felt an irresistible and, unfortunately, fatal need to fall in love with another man, I still know how to remain the loving little wife in my husband's eyes. You were jealous of the care I took, of my affection for him. You even had the audacity at one time not to believe I loved you, and told me so, because to you it seemed impossible that I could bear having another man near me while I loved you.  (Turns to Gustavo, who is still sitting, and draws her own chair closer to him. She continues affectionately.)  Do you remember the argument we had? I told you: "Gustavo, I love you, and it is my love for you that makes me good, patient, and wise -- yes, wise; for I don't want to lose you. I want to be yours forever. If I were foolish and compromised myself, if I gave him any reason to suspect or doubt me, if I were to displease him, our peace would be lost, and perhaps the danger would push you away from me. If he were to know everything one day, what would happen? You, being a good and upright man, would not leave me. But would your love survive, deep and overpowering, with no worries or bother, without spoiling your life or compromising your career? Would I become a bother to you one day? You see, that prospect frightens, terrifies me. It is becaue of this fear of losing you through my own fault, that I find the strength to pretend to be the ideal wife in his eyes." Do you remember? You were convinced, and our argument ended in a kiss. Is it possible that you don't love me anymore? The fault is mine -- I loved you too much! And now I bore you. You're too secure of my love. Isn't it so? Gustavo?  (The doorbell is heard. giulia starts and glances at the door, then bends over Gustavo and kisses him passionately on the mouth. She moves away and composes herself just before Andrea enters.)

 

END SCENE

 

Scene 4

GIULIA, ANDREA, GUSTAVO

 

ANDREA     Ooh, it's cold out there! It must be at least five below.

GUSTAVO     Is it snowing?

ANDREA     A little.  (To Giulia.)  Did I make curfew? It's twenty past.

GIULIA     You're five minutes late.

GUSTAVO     But there's a five-minute tolerance period.

ANDREA     If wives have any tolerance.  (Changing the subject.)  I've already done some preliminary investigating. However, nothing's certain yet.

GUSTAVO     Thank you. But you can understand, given my brother's tendency towards excessiveness, why I've no doubt he may put himself at risk.

ANDREA     Yes, quite. Are you leaving? Won't you have some tea?

GIULIA     (Rising.) I've already offered. He says he has a meeting at half-past nine. Actually, he was about to leave, and I would have been all alone if you had not returned.  (To Gustavo.)  When will you dine with us? Day after tomorrow, perhaps? It's Sunday. On any other day, one never knows at what hour we dine -- because of Andrea's work, you know.

ANDREA     We shall expect you.

GUSTAVO     But --

GIULIA     And bring Monticelli with you. He's such an amiable young man. Isn't he, Andrea?

ANDREA     Both of you, then -- half-past seven.

GUSTAVO     I thank you; but, regretfully, I'm leaving town tomorrow --

ANDREA     Oh, that is only an excuse!

GUSTAVO     I have business in Turin.

GIULIA     Really? .... When you return, then.

ANDREA    We're counting on it.

GUSTAVO    Thanks awfully. Signora -- good evening.  (Exits.)

 

END SCENE

 

Scene 5

GIULIA, ANDREA, TERESA

 

ANDREA     Why didn't you urge him to stay?

GIULIA     I asked him before, but he has that appointment. Perhaps that was only a pretence; perhaps he was bored. He was here for some time.

ANDREA     I wanted to tell him something.

GIULIA     What?

ANDREA     Concerning his brother.

GIULIA     Didn't you already tell him?

ANDREA     There was something more.

GIULIA     Something serious?

ANDREA     Quite. He's involved himself in a most dicey business, and the prognosis is not good. I've already heard something about it.

GIULIA     Poor man! You should have warned him!

ANDREA     I didn't have the courage. I wanted to prepare him, you see -- if he'd stayed longer -- . We may have to take definite action on Monday. At any rate, I've already taken some measures; I could see it through alone.

GIULIA     You?

ANDREA     Yes.

GIULIA     But wouldn't you be putting yourself at risk as well?

ANDREA     No, no; all that's needed is an authorization.

GIULIA     Warning his brother is all very well, but if it puts you in the same predicament --

ANDREA     Don't worry. Is Giannino in bed?

GIULIA     Yes.

ANDREA     I'm going, too. This weather has made me tired.

GIULIA     Yes, go on to bed.

ANDREA     And I must rise early tomorrow; I'm going to Genova.

GIULIA     Genova?

ANDREA     Yes.

GIULIA     Will you be away for long?

ANDREA     No, just the day. I leave at half-past eight and should return by evening.

GIULIA     In this weather, and you not feeling well? Send someone in your place.

ANDREA     Impossible, my dear.

GIULIA     Are we dining without you tomorrow?

ANDREA     I rather think I'll  be dining without you and Giannino.

GIULIA     Too bad.  (Rings the bell.)  Go right to bed, darling. And don't sit up too long reading, as you usually do.  (To Teresa, who has entered.)  Is the fire lit in Signor's room?

TERESA     Yes, Signora.

ANDREA     (To Teresa.)  I'll be rising at six tomorrow.  (Exit Teresa.)

GIULIA     Six? To leave at half-past eight?

ANDREA     I have to stop at my office first.  (Lights a candle.)  Good night, my dear. I'll not see you in the morning. You wouldn't want to get up so early, would you?

GIULIA     Yes. I'll see you off.

ANDREA     Thank you.  (Exit.)

GIULIA     (Closes door through which Andrea has exited, then goes to US door, opens it, and calls out.)  Teresa?

TERESA     (OS )  Signora?

GIULIA     Wake me at half-past seven, do you hear? There'll be nothing else tonight.  (Closes the door. Walks slowly DS, stops at the fireplace and looks at herself in the mirror. Then she pulls a chair close to the fire, sits, and stretches out her legs to warm her feet near the burning coals.)

 

END OF ACT I

 

[To be continued in a later post.]



Marco Praga: The Ideal Wife (Part One)

THE IDEAL WIFE  (LA MOGLIE IDEALE)
A comedy in three acts by Marco Praga
Translated from the Italian © by Leticia Austria

to Eleonora Duse

Cast of characters:
ANDREA CAMPIANI, stockbroker
GIULIA, his wife
GIANNINO, their 7-year-old son
GUSTAVO VELATI, lawyer
COSTANZO MONTICELLI, his associate
TERESA, the Campiani's maid
ETTORE, servant

Milan. The last decade of the 19th century.

ACT I

The dining room of the Campiani's home. Doors US, L, R. Dining table DL, obviously the end of the evening meal. At R, by the door, a fireplace, lit. Three chairs placed in front of it as well as a chaise longue. US, L of the door, a credenza upon which are plates, bottles, flasks, etc. the furnishings are elegant and in good taste. It is evening. Over the table hangs a lamp, lit.

Scene 1   

GIULIA, ANDREA, GIANNINO, TERESA

 

(Giulia is lying on the chaise longue surrounded by illustrated fashion magazines. Giannino sits at the dining table, a cushion placed on his chair so that he may sit higher. Andrea sits across from him. Enter Teresa, US, with the coffee service. She pours out a cup and hands it to Giulia.)

GIULIA     No coffee just now. Perhaps later. Keep it hot.  (Teresa pours a cup for Andrea, who is reading the paper. Giulia turns to Giannino, who has been drumming his knife on his plate.)  Giannino dear, Mamma will get angry if you continue that racket.
GIANNINO     (Kneeling on his chair.)  Papa!
ANDREA     What is it you want?
GIANNINO     An apple.
ANDREA     Another?
GIULIA     No, Giannino, you've had enough fruit.
GIANNINO     I've only had one.
ANDREA     Well, have another, then -- a small one.  (He gives Giannino an apple. Giannino begins to peel it with his knife.)  Take care, you'll cut yourself! Come here.  (Giannino climbs off his chair and gives the apple to his father.)  There.  (Giannino takes it and turns to leave the room.)  Are you off to play now? Give me a kiss first.  (Giannino obliges.)  And what about your mother?
GIULIA     (Hugging Giannino.)  Darling! Have you done your school work? But you haven't yet learned your lessons! All right; go and play for a bit, then you'll study, won't you?  (Giannino exits US with Teresa.)  This last issue of Figaro  is marvellous; have you seen it? What are you doing? Reading?
ANDREA     Just checking the market.
GIULIA     Now stop! You work till seven, oblige me to eat at eight, then you go right back out again. You might at least keep me company for the short time you are  here. Come!
ANDREA     Right now?
GIULIA     Come here!
ANDREA     I'm drinking my coffee.
GIULIA     Then come drink it here. See, I've made a nice place for you.
ANDREA     (Goes and sits next to her )  Is this better?
GIULIA     Where is the "Art and Style"? Oh, look out; you're sitting on it. Up!  (Pulls the magazine out from under him.)  Have you seen this new ladies' hairstyle? All those feathers and ribbons in back, and so high off the crown. Lovely!  (Looks into Andrea's coffee cup )  Won't you give me a little?
ANDREA     I thought you didn't want coffee.
GIULIA     But yours is better. Just a drop. No, you give it to me -- in the spoon.
ANDREA     (Indulgently.)  What a child you are!
GIULIA     One spoonful at a time. It's nice like this, isn't it?
ANDREA     (Gets up and puts the cup on the table.)  Very nice.  (Giulia utters a little cry.)  What is it?
GIULIA     I have an itch! Come and scratch it. Hurry!
ANDREA     (Again sitting next to her.)  Where?
GIULIA     Here, on my hand -- gently! No no, not the palm. You're hurting me, you beast! Look at that scratch. Kiss it, quick.
ANDREA     (Kisses her hand.)  Better?  (Rises.)
GIULIA     Where are you going?
ANDREA     To fetch the paper.
GIULIA     I said, no reading the paper.
ANDREA     I only want to look at the notices.
GIULIA     But I said no! What do you care? Always your precious stocks and securities! Your only security is me, do you undertand? Stay here, close to me, I'm cold. You do know I'm feeling a bit under the weather today?
ANDREA     Oh -- are you?
GIULIA     And it's your duty to cure me. Must you go out tonight?
ANDREA     I want to drop by the Exchange. Don't you want to go out, too?
GIULIA     Where?
ANDREA     I don't know. I'll take you wherever you want to go; then I'll fetch you later, when I come back from the Exchange.
GIULIA     (Taking up the paper.)  Let's see what's in the theatres. La Scala -- nothing tonight. Ugh! Claudio's Wife -- what an abomination! At the Verme there's Traviata  and Sieba -- oh, we promised Giannino we'd take him to the ballet. But it's too late today. Better to go on Saturday, then he can sleep late on Sunday since there's no school .... There's nothing interesting. What time is it? Half past eight. I could get dressed and go to the Viscardi's. But you'll forget to fetch me -- I know you! No -- I shall stay home, on one condition: that you go to the Exchange and come right back. Half an hour; no more. At quarter past nine you must be home. I shall have your tea ready here by the fire, and then we shall go to bed at ten like good children. All right? But take care not to be late! Don't come telling me stories about how your friends kept you. I shall not allow excuses. If someone wants to detain you, you must say: "My friends, I have a dear little wife waiting for me at home; I must leave you." Understand?
ANDREA     (Smiling.)  Understood.  (He rises with a pained expression and stands for a moment on stiffened legs.)
GIULIA     You see! Even you feet want to rest. You overexert yourself. It's only eight days since you left your sickbed, and already you forget to take care of yourself. Just yesterday the doctor said you might recover quickly, but you mustn't overdo.
ANDREA     I'm not exerting myself at all; it's only that I've been sitting so long.
GIULIA     Was that our bell? Who could it be?
ANDREA     Giacomo, most likely, with the dispatches.
TERESA     (Entering.)  The lawyer Velati.
ANDREA     Show him in -- no, wait a moment.  (To Giulia.)  Oughtn't we to receive him in the salon?
GIULIA     Oh, no, it's so nice in here.  (To Teresa.)  Show him in.
ANDREA     But the table hasn't been cleared.
GIULIA     No matter!

END SCENE

Scene 2   

GIULIA, ANDREA, GUSTAVO, TERESA

 

GUSTAVO     Good evening, Signora!  (To Andrea.)  How are things? How is your foot?

ANDREA     Much better, thanks.

GUSTAVO     But I see I've come at a bad time -- you're still at table --

ANDREA     No, no, we finished some time ago. Forgive us, rather, for receiving you in here.

GIULIA     Yes, my husband wanted to receive you in the salon. I however, consider you enough of a friend to do away with such formalities.

GUSTAVO     I'm glad of that.

ANDREA     Coffee?

GUSTAVO     Thank you.

ANDREA     Thank you, yes, or thank you, no?  (Signals to Teresa, who has started to clear the table. She exits.)  (To Giulia.)  You know, if I offered him my own wife, he wouldn't refuse me!

GUSTAVO     I would say you couldn't make a better offer.

GIULIA     You would say that to my husband?  (Pours the coffee which Teresa has just brought in upon re-entering.)  Confidentially, you might say something a bit less --

GUSTAVO     Less banal?

GIULIA     Drink your coffee, and you may avoid answering me.  (To Andrea.)  And you, don't stay standing. You'll tire yourself! At least use your stick. Where is it?  (Finds it in a corner and gives it to him.) 

ANDREA     You treat me as if I were an invalid.

GIULIA     (To Gustavo.)  Please sit down.

GUSTAVO     Thank you.  (They all sit. Teresa exits.)  My dear Campiani, I'd hoped to find you at home. I know you usually go to the Exchange at this hour, but I wanted to have a word before you left.

ANDREA     I'm at your service.

GIULIA     Oh, is this business? Then I'll leave.

GUSTAVO     Not at all -- in fact, please stay.

GIULIA     Are you consulting my husband as a friend or as a stockbroker? Because if it's the latter, I can advise you just as well: don't buy sugar; it's falling. I heard it from my husband a little while ago, and everyone says he may be trusted.

ANDREA     Thank you.

GUSTAVO     Actually, I'm consulting you as a friend -- as friends -- and frankly, I have more faith in friendship than in finances.

GIULIA     I forgive you that lack of faith in view of your faith in our friendship.

ANDREA     What a chatterbox! Let him speak!

GIULIA     Oh, yes, because you must leave soon; your precious Exchange is waiting.

GUSTAVO    Then again, I don't wish to trouble you. It can wait till tomorrow; I'll come to your office.

GIULIA     No no, I only said tht because we've made a pact. He must go and come back immediately -- and I'll brook no excuses!

ANDREA     Chatter, chatter, chatter!  (To Gustavo.)  Go ahead, my friend; don't let us interrupt you.

GUSTAVO     Here it is. As you know, my brother Adolfo has been a colleague of yours these three months --

ANDREA     Yes, he's a hard worker. Never misses a day.

GUSTAVO     Do you know the sort of work he does?

ANDREA     Not exactly. I know he's in business for himself.

GUSTAVO     That's what troubles me. Adolfo has always been a bit of a scatterbrain. He's twenty-five and still financially unsettled. I finally decided to heed to old proverb, "Half advice, half money," so I gave him the necessary capital to open an office. He had been working in a bank for three years. To hear him talk you'd think he was Rothschild; but I'm worried, for I've been told he takes all sorts of risks. I shouldn't want him to come to any grief.

ANDREA     Yes, I've heard he's a bit of a gambler.

GUSTAVO     Is he in any danger? You see, I ask you as an old friend -- if you choose to tell or warn me. Do I ask too much of you?

ANDREA     Of course not! I'm happy to help. But, you see, it isn't easy -- we colleagues don't confide very much in one another.

GUSTAVO     But you have so much authority! You're a veteran at the Exchange --

GIULIA     You make my husband sound so old!

GUSTAVO     I'm speaking of his experience, his shrewdness, his reputation --

ANDREA     Please!  (Rising.)  You may rely on me.

GUSTAVO     Thank you so much.  (Rising.)  And please forgive the intrusion, but this thing has been worrying me quite. I'm rather the father figure to my brother.

GIULIA     Are you going , Andrea, really? Can't you do without?

ANDREA     You know I can't.

GIULIA     Really, truly?

ANDREA     Unfortunately.

GIULIA     All right, then ... but mind, it is now half-past eight. By quarter past nine I want you back home!

ANDREA     I shall do my best.

GIULIA     No excuses!

ANDREA     (Good-humouredly.)  Giulia, Giulia!  (To Gustavo.)  Don't ever marry, will you?

GIULIA     What's this? What did you say? You would dare regret having married?

ANDREA     (Laughing.)  Of course not. Come, now!

GIULIA     You must kiss me and ask forgiveness.

ANDREA     (Kissing her brow.)  Such a child!

GIULIA     (Going to the US door.)  Teresa? Teresa? Fetch the master's hat and coat. Heavens, it's chilly. It's starting to snow. Take a taxi, won't you?  (Enter Teresa with hat and coat. Giulia solicitously helps Andrea put them on.)  And you, Velati, won't you stay and keep me company until Andrea returns?

ANDREA     (To Teresa.)  What's Giannino up to?

TERESA     He's playing in the clothes closet.

ANDREA     Tell him to study his lesson. Forgive, me, Velati; we really are treating you as an old friend. Have a smoke; there are cigars on the table.  (Extending his hand.)  I'll see you in a little while?

GIULIA     Oh, yes, he won't leave till you return. Mind you return in good time, because Velati is dangerous.

GUSTAVO     Do you want me to go away?

ANDREA     See you soon, then.  (Exits.)

GIULIA     (At the door.)  Be careful. Take a taxi!  (To Teresa, who has resumed clearing the table.)  Leave it and finish later. Go see that Giannino studies his lesson.  (Teresa exits.)

 

END SCENE

 

[To be continued in a later post.]

Wanna Play?

In the late '90s, after acquiring a better command of the Italian language, I decided to put some of my spare time in Houston to good use by writing English tranlations of Italian plays. My goal was two-fold: to develop further my knowledge of Italian, especially archaic, and to hone my writing skills. It was meant to be a fun exercise; I had no thought whatever of doing anything with my translations. I chose plays that, as far as I knew, had never been rendered into English, or had not been in recent years. I began with a humdinger—Torquato Tasso's Aminta. When I began my work on it, I knew only of Leigh Hunt's 1820 translation, which was in verse. I decided to write mine in literal prose, using period (late 1500's) language. As I saw the completion of my translation in sight, I read in The New York Review of Books (I think that's where I read it, anyway) that someone had just published a new verse translation of Aminta. Oh, well.

I then turned to my small collection of Italian plays bought randomly from used book stores and antique shops. They are all late-19th century or early-20th century works, and I have tried to use period language for all of them. Over the next few years I translated, in all, eight plays:

     Aminta  (Amyntas) by Torquato Tasso
     O Bere o Affogare  (Drink or Drown) by Leo di Castelnovo
     Il Piccolo Santo  (The Little Saint) by Roberto Bracco
     La Moglie Ideale  (The Perfect Wife) by Marco Praga
     Le Ire di Giuliano  (The Wrath of Giuliano) by Italo Svevo
     L'Avventura di Maria  (Maria's Adventure) by Italo Svevo
     Una Commedia Inedita  (An Unpublished Comedy) by Italo Svevo
     Le Teorie di Conte Alberto  (The Theories of Count Albert) by Italo Svevo

I would like to share some, if not all, of these on this blog, not abandoning, of course, my poetry and journal postings. Some of the plays are multi-act, others are one-act; but I'll have to post all of them, even the shortest, in piecemeal fashion, probably scene by scene.

 

The first to be posted (a few days from now) will be La Moglie Ideale,  which was written in 1890 and believed to be one of Eleonora Duse's best vehicles. I look forward to sharing these theatrical gems with you!

From My Big Orange Book: Siegfried Sassoon

It has been quite a while since I posted something from My Big Orange Book, so let me once again explain what My Big Orange Book is. Years ago when I lived in Houston, I bought a big orange blank book at Borders. It was on sale for five dollars, so naturally I had to have it. But it was far too large and heavy to use as a journal, at least in the way I journal, which is to tote the journal around with me and write in cafes and restaurants. So I decided to use the big orange blank book to copy any poems, quotations, or song lyrics that moved me.

 

Today, I'd like to share a sonnet by Siegfried Sassoon titled "Strangeness of Heart."

When I have lost the power to feel the pang
Which first I felt in childhood when I woke
And heard the unheeding garden bird who sang
Strangeness of heart for me while morning broke;
Or when in latening twilight sure with spring,
Pausing on homeward paths along the wood,
No sadness thrills my thought while thrushes sing,
And I'm no more the listening child who stood
So many sunsets past and could not say
What wandering voices called from far away:
When I have lost those simple spells that stirred
My being with an untranslated song,
Let me go home forever; I shall have heard
Death; I shall know that I have lived too long.

To Dante and Petrarch

 

 

To Dante and Petrarch

 



Now I understand

and may call you "comrades,"

 

you for whom the earth's one reality

was the thing most unattainable,

 

in which are found the colors,

the language, that can paint

 

the landscape of the heart.

Though a nameless novice,

 

I intuit the clasp of your hands

across the centuries, on the page

 

where you have poured out

your voiceless ardor.

 

 

© Leticia Austria 2007



Of Dreams

L'Invito

Come to me in dreams, since truth denies me;
In night's darkling womb I may feel your breath
Upon my cheek, and for that moment know
What day's unvarnished light will not allow.
Night is kind to those who may never have;
Its brush is forgiving, its canvas wide;
It paints me lying against your shoulder,
And I remain content while sleep accords.
Stay with me, then, belovèd, just this night,
And give sweet respite to my heart's unrest.


After the Dream

With widening dawn
fragments bloom
like passion flowers:

a smile I recall
but never saw,

a voice from your lips,
yet strange and new,

embraces hidden from history
beneath the heavy cloak of sleep.

Dark disperses, light gathers,
morning quickens, fragments fuse and form,
the vista of day's long hours
brightens

as I remember
the you I knew in the night.


© Leticia Austria 2008, 2012