An Unpublished Comedy, Part Two

UNA COMMEDIA INEDITA  (AN UNPUBLISHED COMEDY)
a comedy in one act by Italo Svevo

Translated from the Italian © by Leticia Austria


[If you missed Part One, you can read it here.]

CAST OF CHARACTERS:

PENINI
ELENA, his wife
ADOLFO
ROSA, a servant

SCENE FOUR

PENINI, re-entering, and ROSA

 

ROSA     (Startled at his re-entrance.)  Signore!

PENINI     Hush, you fool!  (Places a coin in her hand.)  I want to play a little joke on my wife. She is expecting someone, is she not?

ROSA     Yes—Signor Adolfo.

PENINI     Has she instructed you to bring him in here?

ROSA     Yes, signore.

PENINI     I shall hide in this closet.  (The doorbell sounds.)  If the joke backfires, I'll escape out the window. Should that be the case, do not look for me; and, upon my return, if I say nothing of it to my wife, neither must you say anything. Understood?  (Gives her another coin.)  Go and let him in.  (Another ring.)

ROSA     (Staring at the coins.)  Oh, thank you!

(PENINI goes into the closet; the bell rings a third time.)

PENINI     (Looking out from the closet, he sees ROSA gazing in awe at the money.)  Imbecile! Don't you hear the bell?  (ROSA hurries out.)

 

SCENE FIVE

ELENA, then ADOLFO and ROSA

 

ELENA     Rosa! Rosa!  (Looks out the window, then with a sigh of relief she takes the lamp from the window and places it on the table; looks at herself in the mirror; she has changed her clothes. As soon as ROSA enters, she shouts at her before greeting ADOLFO.)  Didn't you hear the bell?  (To ADOLFO.)  I thought she had opened the door after the first ring. I do apologize.

ADOLFO     It is I who must apologize, for being a trifle too impatient.  (ROSA exits. He takes ELENA's hand and bends to kiss it, but she draws it away.)  I only wanted to look at it. You might have let me; for it is in itself a lesson that might complete my artistic education.

ELENA     Thank you, but I was rather afraid of spoiling your taste.

ADOLFO     (Laughing.)  Oh, to be sure; we realists much prefer the gaunt, wasted hands of half-starved women!  (ELENA indicates a chair. They sit.)

ELENA     You cannot know what pleasure your coming has given me; I am quite alone this evening. Only tell me, what is it brings you here at this hour?

ADOLFO     (Surprised.)  I was passing and saw the lamp  (meaningfully)  at the window, so I stopped. And, from what you've told me, it was fortunate that I did.

ELENA     Fortunate indeed!

ADOLFO     (After a brief pause.)  Here we are again, making conversation in that bland tone of voice which is so very out of tune in a duet played in private quarters.

ELENA     Duet?

ADOLFO     Allow me to explain. Do you know why there is such a thing as etiquette? It serves only when three people are in company together. For, you see, words that are more frank and sincere never offend the person to whom they are directed. It is the third person, the envious one, who is offended. But there is no third person here.

ELENA     (Laughing.)  You may be right, but I am afraid you are forgetting the significance which is usually implied in a duet.

ADOLFO     Come, signora, do not banish me from a domain that I have conquered only after so much difficulty. I thought to have acquired a kind of intimacy with you, and therefore the word "duet" seemed appropriate.

ELENA     Really, you are so clever, at times it clouds your perception. You come into this house, apologizing for ringing the bell; you praise my hands, and claim not to know that I put the lamp in the window as a signal to you. I am simply following your lead.

ADOLFO     Thank you for the lesson.  (Takes her hand and kisses it repeatedly.)

ELENA     That is quite enough of that!  (Brief pause.)  I am going away next week.

ADOLFO     Not for long, I hope?

ELENA     Forever.

ADOLFO     Surely you are joking.

ELENA     I would not make light of such a serious matter. My husband is settling in Venice and I must go with him.

ADOLFO     But—this is disastrous for me!

ELENA     Truly?

ADOLFO     Can you doubt it?  (Again kisses her hand, which she gently withdraws.)  A great disaster! Cannot I follow you?

ELENA     We decided we may speak frankly. It is perhaps fortunate that I am leaving.

ADOLFO     (Laughing and attempting to draw her to him.)  But why? Oh, do say I may follow you, I beseech you!

ELENA     (Pulling away.)  Pray do not touch me. You think I confess to going away because of a mild flirtation. Come, you quite mistake me! You have said we should speak frankly; I am doing so now. You are a young man, younger than I, and I know what you are thinking when you are near me; but believe me, my own thoughts are of a more sober nature. Being young, you have not felt one moment of anxiety, of the insecurity that makes one say to oneself: I am of no use to myself or to anyone else. Perhaps you would not understand, then, what I am feeling.

ADOLFO     Tell me! I will surely understand.

ELENA     You should already have done so! What purpose do I serve in this life? To whom am I important? When I was young, I thought my life would be altogether different. I envisioned myself as active, having some goal, or helping someone else to reach their goal. Since then, I have felt that the dream of being indispensable was but a foolish, youthful fantasy. But I never believed to be as I am now, of no use whatever, merely existing from day to day.

ADOLFO     (Smiling.)  In truth, I cannot bring myself to see you as useless.

ELENA     To whom am I useful? To myself? I bore myself! I cannot ever have children. And my husband may as well not exist, as he, too, bore me.  (A slight noise is heard from the closet.)

ADOLFO     If you need to feel of use to someone, be so to me. Do you not realize that the whole world would desire to take advantage of your beneficence? I have never experienced what you are feeling, but I can imagine the intensity of it; for I have often felt something similar, and still do. I feel the need to be supported, helped—finally, to be loved. I work and think, but have no one with whom to share my work and thoughts. It may be a boyish fancy, but I embark upon my chosen career with the terror of one day failing and becoming ridiculous; and there would be no one to whom I would not be ridiculous—to whom I might still be worthy of esteem.

ELENA     Then it is better that I leave, for that person might well have been me.

ADOLFO     For that reason, it is better that you leave?

ELENA     Yes.  (Brief pause.)  I know why you come to me; I cannot deceive myself on that score.

ADOLFO     (Ardently.)  I have never concealed my intentions. I know they are offensive to you, of course. You feel friendship for me, but that is not half what I feel for you.

ELENA     Naturally, I do not share your facility with words.

ADOLFO     But do you share my feelings?  (ELENA casts her eyes downward; he rises and looks to see if the doors are shut, then approaches her and steals his arms about her waist.)

ELENA     Adolfo!

ADOLFO     Have you read my play?

ELENA     Only the first two acts. Let me go, I beg you!  (Disengages herself.)

ADOLFO     And how do you like it?

ELENA     Not at all.

ADOLFO     Not at all? Why?

ELENA     Judging by the script, one would think the author were mad. How could one think, but that the audience would sit for hours, watching those characters wander about the stage with the sole purpose of saying nonsensical things to each other?  (Firmly.)  You must alter your style! I am only being honest with you. There is no plot; it is completely pointless. I've no doubt that you shall one day produce something of quality, but this is worthless.

ADOLFO     (Forcing a laugh.)  Well! Of course, in order to evaluate plays one must be able to understand them.

ELENA     (Surprised and offended.)  I never shall, I suppose! You know we women are incapable of understanding such things.

ADOLFO     (Affecting contrition.)  I had no wish to offend you! How is it you have so suddenly altered your opinion, when only yesterday you were so enthusiastic? You said you would not be influenced by the opinion of the Dramatic Society.

ELENA     I was not influenced.

ADOLFO     You will understand my surprise. Yesterday, I spoke to you for half an hour in order that you might have an idea of my style. It seems to have been a wasted effort.

ELENA     (Angering.)  Oh, enough! I do not like it, and shall not read the rest of it. You spoke yesterday of truth, of the importance of the setting; but you mentioned nothing of tediousness and indecency.

ADOLFO     (Glancing about him.)  No need to shout! I heard you. and now I know what is your true opinion. I shall seek to obtain another.

ELENA     It may differ from mine; however, I shall declare my low opinion to whomever asks for it.

ADOLFO     I was wrong to seek a woman's judgement. The women of today have no soul!

ELENA     (Glaring angrily at him, she runs to the closet where PENINI is hiding, utters a cry of surprise at seeing him, composes herself with an effort; she brings out a script.)  Here is your script. And now, as it is quite late, I pray you would excuse me.

ADOLFO     (Takes the script and stuffs it into his pocket.)  Signora.

ELENA     Signore.  (ADOLFO exits. ELENA opens the closet door.)  Whatever are you doing in there?

PENINI     I was jealous—as it turns out, with good reason. The two of you seemed very chummy a moment ago.

ELENA     I do not deny a thing. You heard, I suppose, what I said about you to him? Well, that is my excuse. Now you may do what you will

PENINI     I know very well what to do! First, I shall take you to Venice ... and then ... then ... I shall ask your guidance.

 

CURTAIN

 

END PLAY

An Unpublished Comedy, Part One

AN UNPUBLISHED COMEDY  (UNA COMMEDIA INEDITA)
a play in one act by Italo Svevo

Translation from the Italian © by Leticia Austria

The 1880's.

The action takes place in a richly furnished room with an entrance door US. At SR is a door that leads to Elena's room, and a bit further upstage a door that leads to her study.

PENINI
ELENA, his wife
ADOLFO
ROSA, a servant

SCENE ONE

PENINI and ELENA

 

ELENA     (Emerging from the SR door, in an agitated state.)  No, no, no!

PENINI     (Calmly following with a cigar in his hand.)  But why?

ELENA     I deplore Venice!

PENINI     But I thought it was the city of your dreams. You wanted to spend our entire honeymoon trip there, and made me run about all day behind a tour guide, looking at things that interested me not at all: paintings, naked cherubs, elaborate churches. Everything seemed to look the same after a while. But you were so enthralled, I bore the torture for your sake. I rather liked the Piazza San Marco and the Florian, but you never let me linger in either place for long. The truth is, any Italian city gives you pleasure and me torture; particularly Venice.

ELENA     Venice gives me pleasure for eight, ten, twenty days; perhaps a month. Longer than that, I would go mad. If it rains, one is very likely to drown; for it is nearly impossible to keep one's umbrella open in those narrow streets. Those endless canals bore me, and those bridges that look as if they would collapse without warning; the entire city is a peril and may at any moment sink like a lot of old ships.

PENINI     Oh, good Lord!

ELENA     I know it is all my imagination, but I would not feel safe. And then, there are the Venetians themselves, who carry on all their business in the street—why, they even sleep in the street! 'Tis true; I saw one with my own eyes, fast asleep.

PENINI     You have only to step outside our own door to see vagrants sleeping in the street.

ELENA     At any rate, I am not going to Venice.

PENINI     Whether you wish to or no, matters not.

ELENA     If you are determined to go, then go alone, I shall stay here.

PENINI     (Jokingly, after a short pause.)  Come Elena, have you taken leave of your senses? It is your duty to accompany me. I might force you by law, if I so wished, but  (laughing) I'll wager I may convince you without resorting to such measures. You do not admit it, but you are very fond of living well, of having plenty of good food to eat and a soft bed in which to sleep. For that reason, you must go to Venice. We are not poor, but we are not so rich that we can maintain the life we are now living. You, with all your little luxuries, and I barely earning the money to pay for them! I have taken every precaution possible; I have borrowed from friends and acquaintances; and in these three years since our marriage, I've scarcely been able to pay for my cigars. I can show you the account books to prove it.

ELENA     Bravo!

PENINI     The fault is not mine. Every tenth person in this city is a broker; there are more brokers than there are businesses.

ELENA     It is the same in Venice.

PENINI     I don't know about that; but if I go, I'm sure to have enough to live on and perhaps more. I am to act as representative for Velfi & Son while I am there. I shall not have to spend the entire day doing business, and so I may have more time with you, my dear wife, whom I have thus far shamefully neglected.

ELENA     (Proudly.)  I've never complained.

PENINI     You could not, for you knew I was occupied with more serious matters.

ELENA     Well, then! Since I am of such little importance to you, you may leave me here!

PENINI     (Embracing her.)  On the contrary; you are to me the most important thing in this world.

ELENA     (Coldly pushing him away.)  I will not go. It is pointless—at least, for the moment—  (As if lost in her own thoughts.)

PENINI     For the moment? That's fine! I was not thinking of immediate departure. I know how women are, so I have seen to it that you would have time to bid all your friends farewell, put all your fripperies in order, and make your rounds of the city before taking leave of it. We need not leave until—until—

ELENA     Until—?

PENINI     (Calmly.) The end of next week.

ELENA     The end of next week? Never!  (Very upset.)  I am not going; absolutely not. I shall stay with Mamma and let you go alone. I'm not going, I tell you!

PENINI     What am I to do? They gave me this post on the express condition that I bring my wife.

 

SCENE TWO

(Enter ROSA.)

 

ROSA     Begging your pardon—ought I to prepare dinner?

PENINI     No, we dined out. That is, I have dined out.

ELENA     I shall not be dining.

PENINI     I'll take some coffee, Rosa.  (Exit ROSA.)  Please don't cry. Where is the lovely, happy face you wore when we were first married? You seem to have cast it off. Is it, perhaps, out of fashion?

ELENA     (Squares her shoulders.)

PENINI     I only want to know; I do not mean to annoy you.

ELENA     (Crying.)  You see how distressed I am. You might at least spare me your jokes.

PENINI     They are not jokes! In any case, you should not be distressed. There is still time—my employers could die; or you or I could die; and that would put an end to this whole business!

ELENA     Thank you for the thought. I had better go to bed.  (Exits.)

PENINI     But, Elena—!

ROSA     (Enters, carrying a cup of coffee.)  Your coffee, signore.

PENINI     Is there sugar in it?

ROSA     Yes, signore.

PENINI     Tell me—what is my wife's disposition when I am not at home?

ROSA     Disposition?

PENINI     Does she seem happy, despondent, cross?

ROSA     She is often cross with me.

PENINI     Well, that is an answer, but not the one I require. Is she happy?

ROSA     Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no.

PENINI     Does she ever cry?

ROSA     Well, signor—please don't tell her I said so—but just now, in the hallway, I noticed she was crying.

PENINI     How observant of you.

ROSA     Anything else, signor?

PENINI     No, nothing, you may go. Tell my wife to come and see me, for I must go out. Wait just a moment!  (Takes a large envelope from the table.)  What was it my wife received in this envelope?

ROSA     It came from Signor Adolfo, but I do not know what it was.

PENINI     (Laughing.)  Ah, yes, the play!  (Reading the title of one of a stack of large books on the table.)  "The Posthumous Works of Lorenzo Stecchatti." Who delivered these books?

ROSA     (Nervously.)  Signor Adolfo brought them for your wife. I cannot read.

PENINI     (Seeing a rose on ROSA's dress, he becomes angry.)  I have told you repeatedly that roses must not be taken from the garden. The landlord will be very angry.

ROSA     I didn't take it from the garden; it came from a bouquet that was sent the signora by Signor Adolfo.  (Exits hurriedly.)

 

SCENE THREE

(Enter ELENA.)

 

PENINI     (To himself.)  Adolfo!

ELENA     You wish to say more kind things to me, I presume.

PENINI     (Gently.)  You always wear such lovely flowers in your hair—but I have asked you not to take them from the garden.

ELENA     These were a gift from Signor Adolfo.

PENINI     Ah, Adolfo!  (Short pause.)  Perhaps I need not go out tonight.  (Laughing.)  Speaking of Adolfo—how do you like his play?

ELENA     I've only read the first two acts. It does not appeal to me; I cannot finish it.

PENINI     (Satisfied.)  My poor wife, what burdens you take upon yourself! No matter how great a nuisance it is, you feel obliged to endure the tedium of reading it, and then try to speak well of it.

ELENA     No. Signor Adolfo is a young man of great humour and spirit to whom I would not hesitate to express my opinion.

PENINI     A young man of humour and spirit has written a poor play? Isn't that rather an incongruity?

ELENA     Even the most talented men have fallen short of their abilities at one time or another.

PENINI     (Affecting indifference.)  Adolfo has a low brow—very low indeed.  (ELENA shrugs.)  I believe I shall go out, after all! You may rest assured I shall not return before midnight.

ELENA     (Calmly placing a lamp on the windowsill.)  What do you mean, "rest assured"?

PENINI     (Looking knowingly at the lamp in the window.)  I mean to say that, if I should not return before midnight, you needn't worry. Good night.  (Kisses her forehead and exits.)

ELENA     Good night.  (Calling.)  Rosa!

ROSA     (Entering.) Yes, signora?

ELENA     Go and follow my husband with the lamp, then lock the door. But be ready to open it, should someone ring.  (There is the sound of the door closing.)  My husband has gone out. If anyone—if signor Adolfo should ring, bring him in here.  (Looks at herself in the mirror.)  I am going to my room for a moment.  (Exits.)

 



 

END SCENE

 

To be continued.





The Wrath of Giuliano, Part Three

To view Parts One and Two, click "Italian Plays in Translation" above.

SCENE EIGHT

(Enter Romolo.)

 

GIOVANNA     Romolo! Home at this hour?

ROMOLO     I'm going to bed, Mamma.

GIOVANNA     Are you ill?

ROMOLO     (Very upset, hesitating.)  Y-yes.

GIOVANNA     Well, tell me, what is wrong?  (Romolo does not answer.)  Sore throat? Speak up!  (Romolo begins to cry.) 

LUCIA     I understand—Giuliano has upset him, too.

GIOVANNA     Has he hurt you?

ROMOLO     How did you know?

GIOVANNA     Then he has done!

ROMOLO     Not really hurt me; but he wanted to. I got away.

GIOVANNA     Now I have had enough of this! We shall see if he'll strike me, as well! Maria! Maria!

MARIA     (Entering.)  You called?

GIOVANNA     Fetch my shawl and hat.  (Maria exits.) 

LUCIA     Not now, Mamma. Do not you think it best to wait a few days? Then you may tell him whatever you like; he mightn't be disrespectful. But if you go how, he may say truly ghastly things.

GIOVANNA     Oh, no—it is he shall hear plenty from me.  (To Romolo.)  Now, quickly—tell me exactly what he has done to you.

ROMOLO     He took me by the ear and led me out the door, saying, "You are never to set foot here again!"

GIOVANNA     (Turning to leave.)  We shall see about that!

LUCIA     But why would he say such a thing?

GIOVANNA     Why? We would know the reason better than he.

LUCIA     Did he not say anything to you before this affront, Momi?

ROMOLO     Before pulling me by the ear, you mean? He scolded me because I made a mistake in arithmetic.

GIOVANNA     A large mistake?

ROMOLO     I make mistakes every day; I don't know why he should be angry today more than usual.

GIOVANNA     I know very well why. I'm going, then. Is there anything else? If there is, I shall truly make a scene.

ROMOLO     No, Mamma! There is nothing else.

GIOVANNA     Truly?

ROMOLO     My word of honor, Mamma.

GIOVANNA     Then I'm going.  (Exits.)

FILIPPO     Ah, now I understand! He is angry with everyone, not only me. Then I have nothing to do with it. This is your family's affair!

LUCIA     Will you please do me the favour of leaving, Filippo?

FILIPPO     Why? What have I done?

LUCIA     Nothing. I am merely warning you that you may be compromising yourself if you stay here with me.

FILIPPO     Tosh! How may a man compromise himself?

LUCIA     Well, you know very well indeed what happened the last time you compromised yourself with me!  (Makes a motion as if striking someone.)

FILIPPO     (Doubtful, then cheerfully.)  Who knows what notion came into Giuliano's head today? He vented himself on me, that is all. You must have done something scandalous, that he should be reduced to such a state.

 

SCENE NINE

(Enter Giuliano.)

 

GIULIANO     (Appears suddenly in the doorway and remains there; Filippo and Romolo cry out in fear.)  Well, then!  (He is sober, composed; but one can see that he is barely controlling himself.)  Romolo, go back to my writing desk! I am come for you. I've no wish to hurt you. Have I done?

ROMOLO     Oh, no, Only my ear.

GIULIANO     (Ruefully.)  I am sorry. Forgive me.

ROMOLO     Forgive you? I? Oh—it is nothing!

GIULIANO     (Goes to him and kisses to top of his head.)  I have always been very fond of you, you know. It would require much anger indeed to induce me to hurt you.

FILIPPO     Well, cousin! So we are come to our senses? Neither have you hurt me. The next time, however, do not strike me in the street!

GIULIANO     Take care you do not get in my way again, you ninny. I may kick you away!

FILIPPO     (Stunned for an instant.)  Ah! That is how it is! I am disposed to make peace, and you welcome me in this manner? Wait—I'll show you—  (A mere glance from Giuliano confounds him.)  What am I saying!  (Exits hurriedly.)

GIULIANO     Come, Romolo.

ROMOLO     I want to wait for Mamma. Oh—but perhaps we shall find her at your house. Let's go, then.

GIULIANO     She has gone to my house? What for?

ROMOLO     (Smiling.)  I rather think she wants to scold you for boxing my ear.

GIULIANO     Then I shall go alone.

LUCIA     Giuliano!

GIULIANO     What is it?

LUCIA     If Mamma wishes to scold you, she has every right to do so. You did wrong to vent yourself on a poor boy who has done nothing to you.

GIULIANO     Nothing! I give him some figures to add, and he gave them back to me chock full or errors!

LUCIA     Then I implore you, Giuliano, do not do any more harm. Leave the boy here; you've no more need of him; but do not attempt to seek out my mother in order to be insolent to her. Do not persecute the brother-in-law who owes you money; he has nothing to do with me. Do not punish me by hurting him.

GIULIANO     But it was you who begged me to help him. Since you are no longer living in my house, I have no intention of throwing away my money on a man that has no right to it.

LUCIA     You are the worst kind of man and I cannot regret enough ever having loved you.

GIULIANO     (Controlling himself.)  Go ahead and say so; you cannot anger me. I have decided, once for all. But I should like to know which people you deem bad and which you deem kind. If to you kindness is the same as insipience, then indeed I am not kind.  (Interrupting himself.)  But then, if you maintain that being kind signifies being tolerant and forgiving, then neither are you kind. Any other woman would have forgiven me; she would have supported me; for I was a good husband in every other respect. Would you not grant that you have wanted for nothing? Have I not done everything in my power to relieve your poverty—yes, poverty—and that of your relations? And after receiving such benefits from me, you believe you have the right to take offence at a few brusque words, a few thoughtless deeds?  (Beside himself.)  You have not the right, I tell you! Your duty was to kiss the dust from my shoes!

LUCIA     (Indignantly.)  Naturally, with your notions of what are my wifely duties, no real happiness could have resulted from our union.

GIULIANO     (Even more angry.)  My notions impeded the happiness of our union? When were they ever manifested? When have you ever disapproved my benefits?

LUCIA     At this very moment.

GIULIANO     Because you saw them withdrawn. But before this, when have you ever acknowledged them? You spoke of them little enough, but were not aware of them all, for you did not know that I gave money to your brother-in-law for your sake. Do not speak, Lucia—I had resolved to remain calm, but I cannot—quite.  (Sits at the table and holds his head in his hands.) 

LUCIA     I have never seen you like this.

GIULIANO     I know; I frighten you. Yet I have never really harmed anyone. I was wrong to marry you. My mother had a character like my own; when we fought, the anger between us lasted weeks. I thought, when I saw your fairness and your mild blue eyes, that with you I could never be in bad humour for more than a day at a time. After the weeks of anger with my mother, we would fall into each other's arms weeping, each begging the other's pardon. With you, my anger is of lesser duration, but it is never entirely appeased; you do not know how to forgive.  (Ironically.)  You were also wrong to marry a butcher, even if he did have money.

LUCIA     Giuliano!

GIULIANO     I do not mean you married me for my money; I only wanted to apprise you of your mistake so that you may learn from it.

LUCIA     (Upset.)  We both were mistaken in marrying each other; you yourself said so. Let us separate then; we may at least partly repair the wrong.

GIULIANO     (Suspicious and ironic.)  In the marriage contract, I assured you a settlement, if I am not mistaken.

LUCIA     (Forcefully.)  I renounce it!

GIULIANO     (Paces agitatedly.)  Are you seriously considering this separation?

LUCIA     You yourself said it was necessary!

GIULIANO     (Embracing her passionately.)  It is not necessary, Lucia! Listen—look at me. My head and heart may still be full of disquiet, but do not you see that I might yet manage to control them? I hold you in my arms, and I feel the desire more to strangle than kiss you, but I do not.  (Kisses her.)  Why do you wish to flee from me when towards you I am anything but dangerous; when all your interests and those of your family command you to love me?

LUCIA     (Trying to release herself.)  Oh! Giuliano!

GIULIANO     But don't let us speak of interests; let us speak of love. Do you not love me at all, that you leave me when I need you so very much? Would you leave me to improve my character alone in that horrible slaughterhouse? If there were anyone who could improve me, heal me, it was you. Do you not see that even now, still struggling to hold back my anger, I am begging you, imploring you, to stay with me?

LUCIA     Yes, but—

GIULIANO     No "but," no more remonstration; for I run the risk of again losing my head. No, come with me now.  (Leads her to the door.)

LUCIA     (Laughing.)  But—

GIULIANO     (Annoyed.)  Another "but"?

LUCIA     But like this? Without your hat?

GIULIANO     (Hugging her.)  Oh, thank you, thank you!

LUCIA     (Pleadingly.)  Please be good.

GIULIANO     Have I not promised you?

LUCIA     But shall we wait for Mamma?

GIULIANO     No, no, let us go; I do not need to hear any more scolding.  (After a moment's reflection.)  We shall do this much:  (Calling out.)  Maria!

MARIA     (Entering.)  You called?

GIULIANO     Give my hat to Lucia and tell Signora Giovanna—  (Hesitating.)  Tell her I came back to fetch my wife—and my clerk.  (Indicating Romolo.)

MARIA     (Gaily.)  Very well, signor! It is good news I give her!  (Gives Giuliano's hat to Lucia, who places it on his head.)

GIULIANO     (Darkly.)  The servant knows, too?

LUCIA     What does it matter?

GIULIANO     (Passes a hand in front of his eyes; then, calm, and smiling, offers his arm to Lucia.)  Let us go!  ((Exits with Lucia.)

ROMOLO     (Dons his hat, to Maria.)  Tell Mamma she does not have to scold Giuliano. He has said "sorry" and I've forgiven him. So it is all over and done with.

GIULIANO     (Re-enters, irritably.)  Are you coming, you ninny, or must we wait another half hour?

ROMOLO     I'm coming, I'm coming!  (Runs out.)

 

CURTAIN

END OF PLAY





The Wrath of Giuliano, Part Two

If you missed Part One of this one-act comedy by Italo Svevo, or just need to remind yourself of the cast of characters, you can view it here.

SCENE FIVE

(Enter Maria, then Giuliano.)

 

MARIA     Signor Giuliano requests permission to enter.

LUCIA     He is here? I cannot have this scene!  (Starts to leave.)

GIULIANO     No, please, I beg you, stay.  (Composed, he holds her back. She looks into his face for an instant, then sits, affecting calm.)  Signora Giovanna, you know the respect I have always borne for you. You will understand that it must be a serious matter which brings me here unannounced at this hour. I beg you to read this letter that your daughter sent me this morning, and give me your opinion.  (Rummages through his pockets unsuccessfully.)  Damn!  (Finds the letter and gives it to her.)

GIOVANNA     (Coldly.)  If you will have a seat.  (Emilio hurriedly brings a chair. Giuliano sits. Giovanna reads aloud.)  "Signore, you must understand that after the events of last evening—"

GIULIANO     I shall tell you in a moment what were these terrible events.

GIOVANNA     I know already. " ... After the events of last evening, it is impossible for me to remain in your house. I am taking refuge—"

GIULIANO     Precisely—taking refuge. So she has told you everything? So much the better!

GIOVANNA     "I am taking refuge at my mother's. I presume you shall deem my actions most justified; and at the same time, I report that I have already written to Signor Chelmi requesting to reassume the post which I had wrongly left. Lucia."

GIULIANO     So? What do you think?

GIOVANNA     It is all very clear. But let us return to these so-called events of last evening. For a man such as yourself to be drawn into the actions of a vulgar beast—

GIULIANO     But, signora! If you believe all that your daughter has told you, you would naturally blame me. Has she told you that I beat her?

GIOVANNA     No. Lucia has been most clear. You grasped her by the shoulders and forced her to sit.

GIULIANO     Forced! Forced! I helped her to sit. Grasped her by the shoulders! I placed my hands on her shoulders. It was necessary to do so, in order to help her sit.

GIOVANNA     But why?

GIULIANO     (Embarrassed for an instant, then becoming heated.)  Why? I shall tell you why! When a man comes home after hours of tedious labour, he has no wish to chat. What could he have to say? And then, he has a lump here (pointing to his throat), a lump formed by fatigue, boredom, anger.  (Settling down.)  He then comes home. His wish, naturally, is to sit quietly, without thinking or moving. He wants to see around him anything but that which he sees during the day. No sulkers. He does not want to be scolded for his ill humour, for his taciturnity, everything that is natural enough in some men. He wants—

LUCIA     Had I said anything?

GIULIANO     (Paying her no heed, turning to Giovanna.)  Is it necessary to speak in order to offend? Silences can offend more than a word or an act. My wife, seeing I was in ill humour, in order to punish me—

LUCIA     (Surprised.)  Punish you?

GIULIANO     Yes! I said to her: stay here with me. But no, she wanted to leave the room!

LUCIA     Who would have thought that my presence would matter to you so?  (To Giovanna.)  He said it with such indifference: "Stay here." I had things to do, so I sat down to my embroidery.

GIULIANO     (Still speaking to Giovanna.)  I assure you, signora, I observed her most attentively. She had no embroidery to do; at least, she did not do any.

LUCIA     You observed wrongly.

GIULIANO     At any rate, this all seems of lesser importance compared to that letter.

GIOVANNA     You make excuses for yourself well enough; you can also find reason to pardon my daughter, who, I confess, acted thoughtlessly.

LUCIA     I do not need to be pardoned; rather, 'tis I should do the pardoning.

EMILIO     But Lucia, do you not see that he is disposed to make peace?

GIULIANO     Make peace? I? With my wife? I am come for something else entirely; simply to ask her:  (Turning to Lucia, shouting.)  Will you return to my house without my pleading, without argument?

LUCIA     (Coldly.)  No.

GIULIANO     No? That is final—no? Then there is nothing more to say. I shall go.  (Starts for the door, then turns back.)  However, you shall remember having said no in such manner. Do remember—so that you should not be surprised by everything that shall come of it.

GIOVANNA     I beg you, Giuliano, calm yourself. This is surely the time to make peace, after a dispute for which you are both to blame. Both, yes. This is not the proper way to ask her to make peace.

GIULIANO     Enough of this making peace. We are not children. We are adults with rights and duties. We all of us have certain roles. Whoever has rights must exercise them; whoever has duties must accomplish them. But I do not interpret my rights as you perhaps may think. I shall not lift a finger to force my wife to return. Since she wishes to stay here, let her stay; since you wish to have her, then enjoy her; I've had it to here with her.  (Points to his throat.)

LUCIA     (With tears in her eyes.)  You might have told me sooner. Now I understand why you mistreated me.

GIULIANO     I'm glad of it. Good day.  (Exits, Matilde following.)

EMILIO     (With heavy sarcasm.)  Well. Let us all gather round and celebrate.

GIOVANNA     It is horrible! I have never seen him in such a state.

LUCIA     I would sooner die than set foot in his house again!

GIULIANO     (Re-entering with Matilde, who whispers imploringly to him.)  Ha, ha, ha! This is choice! But I cannot, signora; truly, I cannot. Tell your husband he must pay today. He has until four this afternoon. He should also take care of that little draft which is due tomorrow. I cannot grant extension, much as I'd like to, dear lady! Ha, ha, ha!  (Throws a glance at Lucia, then exits.)

MATILDE     (Weeping.)  You see, Lucia, we are ruined.

LUCIA     (Also weeping.)  I would do anything to save you. But you saw with your own eyes! Could I live with such a man?

GIOVANNA     What was it you were asking him, Matilde?

MATILDE     It will displease Arturo that you are apprised of this. Giuliano came back just now, intending to tell you everything. Arturo owes him money. His debt of three hundred florins is due today and he begged me to ask Giuliano for an extension, for I do not think he has the money.

EMILIO     I knew it!

MATILDE     (Gloomily.)  So now the jolly life begins again! My husband shall once more suffer the old anxieties, owing new debts to pay old ones, having to plead and beg left and right. Farewell, family felicity!

GIOVANNA     Only three hundred florins?

MATILDE    That is not all. Two more debts are to be paid this month.

GIOVANNA     This is very bad!

EMILIO     You have yet seen only a small part of the woes that shall befall you through Giuliano's wrath. You know not what he is capable of.

LUCIA     (Passionately.)  Oh, I would that all these wrongs fall only upon me! But I cannot give in; in any case, I shall not. So it is useless for you all to complain.

MATILDE     (Spitefully.)  And now it is useless to go back. Giuliano is not a child to be made sport of. What's done is done.  (Starts to leave.)

 

SCENE SIX

(Enter Maria.)

 

MARIA     A letter is arrived for Signora Lucia.

MATILDE     (Hesitatingly.)  Perhaps it is from your husband. Oh, if it only were!

LUCIA     It couldn't be!  (Opens the letter.)  It is from Signor Chelmi.  (Reads aloud.)  "Most esteemed lady and dear friend, this is to inform you that upon receiving your letter requesting to reassume the post which you willingly quitted two years past, your husband came to see me, in a most agitated state. He inquired if I had received the aforementioned letter and seemed to know exactly its content. Naturally, I could not conceal nor deny anything. He then made me to understand, in no uncertain terms, that he did not wish you to reassume your post, which in any case is already filled. It was solely through my tact that our exchange did not degenerate into a scandal; for, I repeat, Signor Giuliano appeared most disturbed. And now, esteemed lady and dear friend, I must confess that I do not fully comprehend how matters stand; but at the same time, I should tell you it is not probable that the school board would consider your proposal, for I should be obliged to convey to them that Signor Giuliano not only does not support your wish, but has formally opposed it. Therefore, in order to avoid public dispute resulting in that which I have earlier described, I should advise you to withdraw your request. I shall speak no further of these matters, nor of your husband's visit. With sincerest regard, most esteemed lady and dear friend, I am, Anselmo Chelmi."  (Incensed.)  Oh, the villain!

MATILDE     Now who is complaining?

EMILIO     (Laughing ironically.)  One entire night of profound reflection has led you to this!

LUCIA     It doesn't matter. And you may be certain, Emilio, that I shall not turn to you for my living!  (At first calm, then becoming agitated.)  I have still some money saved. It is mine; money I earned before I was married. And I have jewelry—not much, but it will serve to sustain me for a little. In any case, I may die of hunger, but I shall not return to his house! Never!

MATILDE     Fortitude is such laudable thing! We shall speak of this again in a few days, when you have seen how difficult life can be. Goodbye, Mamma!  (Exits.)

GIOVANNA     Lucia, you must not take too seriously what Emilio says. He only says it to convince you to do something which he believes you must do for your own sake.

EMILIO     Yes, well—it shan't be me to chase her out of here. Let her stay, then! But, just so that we are perfectly clear—I repeat once more that I am absolutely opposed to all this foolishness!

 

SCENE SEVEN

(Enter Filippo.)

 

FILIPPO     Oh, thank goodness you are all here!  (Stuttering slightly.)  Lucia! I warn you, I shall send your husband to prison!

EMILIO     Why?

FILIPPO     He has struck me!  (At first stoic, then bursts into tears.)

EMILIO     Why?

FILIPPO     (Tries to compose himself.)  I told him he was an idiot and an ass.

GIOVANNA     Then he had good reason!

FILIPPO     (Still crying.)  But he struck me before that!

EMILIO     Before and after?

FILIPPO     Yes.

LUCIA     One moment!  (Pours him a glass of water.)  Now tell us.

FILIPPO     I'm not speaking to you; in fact, I do not want to speak to you!  (Turns away from her.)  Actually struck me!

LUCIA     But I did not do it!

FILIPPO     He did it because of you!

LUCIA     Of me?

FILIPPO     Yes. You went and told him everything.

LUCIA     Come, explain yourself. What do you mean, everything?

FILIPPO     (To Giovanna.)  Yes, Aunt! I have brought flowers to Lucia many times and told her she was beautiful. But need she tell her husband of this? As for anything other than that, we are innocent.

LUCIA     Thank you so much!

FILIPPO     Is it not true?

LUCIA     (Laughing.)  I said nothing to the contrary!

FILIPPO     Yes, you did! You told your husband!

LUCIA     How do you know that?

FILIPPO     Giuliano himself told me. He shouted: "Lucia has confessed everything1" I replied: "then she is a liar, for it is not true." And then he struck me!  (Cries.)

LUCIA     You see, Mamma! In only one day you have come to know of all Giuliano's virtues.

FILIPPO     In the street, no less! At that very moment the landlord passed by. I do not know if he saw what happened, but I greeted him smiling, as if Giuliano had just kissed me, so that he would not think anything amiss. But my distress was not quite enough for Giuliano: he then went up and down the street shouting, so that everyone turned to look! He is a barbarian!

EMILIO     You poor devil.

FILIPPO     Poor devil, I? Poor devil, he, more like! I should not relish being in his shoes. Ha! I shall have him thrown into gaol!

LUCIA     What was it he was shouting in the street?

FILIPPO     I could not understand all of it. Only a part. He said that I bring dishonor into people's homes. and, "I'll think of some way to deal with her." And then: "What a family I have married into!"

GIOVANNA     He said that? Infamous!

FILIPPO     I swear he did, Aunt.

 

END SCENE

 

To be continued ....

 



 

        

The Wrath of Giuliano, Part One

THE WRATH OF GIULIANO  (LE IRE DI GIULIANO)

A play in one act by Italo Svevo
Translated from the Italian © by Leticia Austria

Cast of Characters:
Giovanna
     her children:
          Lucia
          Matilde
          Emilio
          Romolo (a boy of twelve)
Giuliano, Lucia's husband
Maria, Giovanna's maid


Circa 1880. A simply furnished room. Door R, another US. Table C surrounded by three chairs.

SCENE ONE

(Lucia and Maria)

 

LUCIA     (Entering, preceded by Maria.)  Is my mother still in bed?

MARIA     She is dressing. But it is barely seven o'clock! Signora, you've always said you will never rise before ten!

LUCIA     I have not even been to bed.

MARIA     Ah! The signori have been out all night?

LUCIA     (Impatiently.)  Yes, yes! Go and see if my mother has arisen.

 

SCENE TWO

(Enter Giovanna.)

 

GIOVANNA     Why, Lucia! At this hour?

LUCIA     (Bursting into tears and throwing her arms round her mother's neck.)  Yes, Mamma!

GIOVANNA     Good heavens, what has happened? Is he ill?

LUCIA     No, Mamma.

GIOVANNA     What is it, then?

LUCIA     Maria, please excuse us. There is something I wish to tell my mother. And once you have heard about it, everyone will know!

MARIA     I'm leaving, Signora. Of course, I never take the slightest interest in other people's business.  (Exits.)

GIOVANNA     Well, then? Tell me.

LUCIA     (Clings to her neck, sobbing.) 

GIOVANNA     Why, Lucia, you are frightening me to death!

LUCIA     It is nothing to be frightened of; only so sad! Oh, Mamma!

GIOVANNA     Tell me!

LUCIA     I've had a row with Giuliano.

GIOVANNA     Is that all? Silly girl, to frighten me so!  (Sinking into a chair.)  I cannot bear this!

LUCIA     Oh, Mamma, if you only knew what a horrible night I've passed! I didn't close my eyes all night.  (Bitterly.)  He, on the other hand, slept as if nothing at all happened!

GIOVANNA     Whatever is the matter?

LUCIA     Well—I can hardly say. It sounds so ludicrous. I haven't often complained of my husband's rages. You surely could not think he threw tantrums at me, because I have kept silence for fear of distressing you too much. And then, he himself always hoped that these rages would cease once and for all; and when we do have a bit of respite, he would always swear that would be the last time! But instead, he has one bout after another, almost continuously.

GIOVANNA     Oh, come, now!

LUCIA     I assure you, Mamma, it has been very bad, especially this last. I would shout and threaten—I have complained to Matilde many times, but with you I kept silence. And it is always I who makes peace and grants pardon. But I would tell him that if ever again he were abusive, if he ever again shouted at me or was beastly to me, I would leave that house. And so, today I left.

GIOVANNA     You are not serious!

LUCIA     Very serious. I have thought about it most seriously indeed, all night long, evaluating each of my reasons one by one.

GIOVANNA     Have you told him you are leaving him?

LUCIA     Oh, no! But I have written to him.

GIOVANNA     (Laughing.)  Oh, my poor girl, you are still such a child! really, you married much too young. You would leave your husband for such trifles?

LUCIA     (In a low voice.)  He beat me.

GIOVANNA     Beat you? Merciful heavens! That villain! My poor girl!

LUCIA     When he came home last night, he was already in bad humour. I don't know what happened at work to set him off. He grumbled all through supper. They brought his food too slowly, then the meat was cold, the salad poorly dressed; then he shouted in the most horrible manner because the serving girl broke a glass. I kept quiet, because I know him. Right after dinner I settled down to my needlework. I told him I must finish it that evening and he was silent for a long time. He contained his anger. But all of a sudden, he got up, swept his chair aside, took my hoop and threw it in the air. He dragged me to the table and forced me to sit. He truly had to force me, for I was so rigid—more from fear than resistance. I started to cry, but I did not say a word. What good did that do? So I resolved to do more: I made a decision. I thought it over all night, never closing my eyes. I realized I would be a fool to continue living such a life. Why should I? And for whom?

GIOVANNA     (Soberly.)  This is a very serious step you have taken. Why indeed should you go on with the life you've led thus far? Do you love him?

LUCIA     Love him? I despise him! He is a fool, a madman. I haven't even told you half the story! He claims to be jealous—and do you know of whom? Filippo!

GIOVANNA     (Surprised.)  Your cousin?

LUCIA     Yes. Dim-witted cousin Filippo!  Giuliano found him two or three times at the house, but said nothing at first. He was even kind to that poor wretch. Then, just when he was beginning to act like a normal person, he insulted me by telling me not to believe that I could fool him; that he has eyes and ears and sooner or later he would have the proof with which to accuse me. all this, without warning, as if he had thought it all along!

GIOVANNA     You must try and convince him otherwise. Who knows? Perhaps he will believe you.

LUCIA     What does it matter now? What good would it do? Even before this great discovery of his, he had these attacks of rage, and often enough.

GIOVANNA     Is he truly so terrible?

LUCIA     Oh, Mamma, if you could only see him; you would not recognize him! His eyes would have such a dark gleam, as if they could kill merely by looking at me. At times, when I answered him bravely, in my mind I was praying to be ready if death should come.

GIOVANNA     You exaggerate!

LUCIA     Oh, no, Mamma. It truly is so.

GIOVANNA     How does he treat you when he is not angry?

LUCIA     No differently, really. If I were still at home, for a few days he would treat me rudely, or not say a word to me. Last night he slept with his back to me, his head beneath the coverlet, and when he rose this morning his eyes were red from the heat. He left without a word. Perhaps he shall not even lunch at home, so he will not notice my absence until tonight. He would come home calm, but indifferent as stone. Normally, I would not speak to him, but if I should ask why he did not come home to lunch, he would say very softly, but without looking at me, "I was very busy." He would then go to bed without another word, unless he needed something, and then he would ask for it nicely. In the morning, I always used to pretend to be still asleep and he would move about quietly so as not to wake me; but before leaving, he would lean over me, gaze at me, and kiss me very lightly. Every morning, without fail, he would do so. At the beginning of our marriage I had not yet learned to pretend that I was still asleep, and I would open my eyes, throw my arms round his neck, and the coldness of the night before would not be spoken of. But after his putting me through this practice so many times, I then learned to pretend sleep, and so we would hold the grudge for many days. A grudge, was it? On my part, yes; but not on his, for he was self-possessed, indifferent, as if nothing was of any concern to him. He would speak to me little and civilly; he would no longer come near me unless there was absolute need of it. One day we made peace with one another without our knowing.

GIOVANNA     And then?

LUCIA     (Sadly.)  It is true, for days, for weeks, he treated me well; lovingly, even, as no other husband could treat his wife. It seemed impossible that he would ever again speak harshly to me. But then, for no apparent reason, again came the grim looks, the foul words and deeds.  (Weeps.)

GIOVANNA     It is absolutely incomprehensible! He needs to be examined by a doctor, for that man must be truly ill.

LUCIA     That is what I think, too; I certainly am not the one to cure him.

 

SCENE THREE

(Enter Emilio.)

 

EMILIO     Good morning, Mamma. Good morning, Lucia; here so early? Have you been weeping?

LUCIA     No.

EMILIO     You look as though you had been.

GIOVANNA     She has been.

EMILIO     Why? Is your husband ill?

GIOVANNA     In a manner of speaking. He has beaten her.

EMILIO     Beaten her?!

LUCIA     No, not exactly. He grasped me a bit roughly and forced me to sit where he wanted.

EMILIO     Thank goodness! But didn't you tell us two or three days ago that his irritability had subsided?

LUCIA     I only said that to put Mamma at ease, but it was not true.

EMILIO     Ah! Well, you'll see he shall improve with time. He loves you very much.

LUCIA     It would take too much time. I have tried. For these two years I have been his wife, I have tried.

 

SCENE FOUR

(Enter Matilde.)

 

MATILDE     Have you been by my house this morning?

LUCIA     Yes, I wanted to speak with you before coming to Mamma, but you were so long getting up and I was too impatient to wait.

MATILDE     I knew right away that you had come after having one of the usual rows that interrupt your eternal honeymoon.

GIOVANNA     Has she told you of her discontentment with her husband?

MATIDLE     Yes; it was I who advised her not always to tell you about it.

GIOVANNA     You were wrong to do so, for I perhaps could have stopped things going any further.

MATILDE     It has gone further than usual?

GIOVANNA     I should say! Unspeakable, villainous behaviour!

MATILDE     (Surprised.)  That beast!  (Then, checking herself, to Lucia.)  Sorry.

LUCIA     Go ahead and say it; you are not saying anything I myself have not thought.

GIOVANNA     (Soberly.)  Now it is time, Matilde, to advise her, and advise her well. Tell her that she has every reason to separate from her husband.

MATILDE     Separate? You have considered as much?

LUCIA     Considered? I've done it. I have come home to Mamma and I shall never go back.

MATILDE     (Aghast.)  You are mad!

EMILIO     I am astonished that Mamma would take seriously anything you say out of anger.

LUCIA     You are mistaken; I am no longer angry. At what should I be angry? At what happened last night? One cannot lose one's head about an event that is but a repetition of so many others like it; one feels the usual hostility, a bit more so, perhaps. Much more so, in fact.  (Becoming angry.)  Just thinking of it again —I cannot but cry or laugh at such boorishness.

EMILIO     You are still angry.

LUCIA     True.  (Calming herself.)  But you see, I soon calm myself. Now I am completely calm, for I have made my decision, I've thought about it, and I have taken steps to carry it out.

EMILIO     Let us hear what you have thought. What do you plan to do, for instance?

LUCIA     That is the first thing I've considered. I know that you, Emilio, are concerned with maintaining Mamma and yourself respectably. I shall work too, and endeavor to regain my post as public school teacher.  (Cheerfully.)  Who knows? Perhaps I shall even help my family. I am disposed to work day and night so that I may live here with Mamma.

GIOVANNA     My poor girl!

EMILIO     Is this your noble resolution? Do you not realize that this cold-hearted resolve may ruin the family? It is not the maintenance that would ruin us, but your animosity towards your husband. Do you not realize that all of us depend on him? I rely on his financial support, his backing; Matilde's husband as well, perhaps even more so. And Momi is in his employ.

LUCIA     Oh! The great advantages that Momi has in his employ! I believe the family may do well enough without them.

EMILIO     That is not the point. I am able to keep Mamma comfortable, and can even think of taking a wife. I owe all this to your husband.

LUCIA     My dear Emilio, I could not think of everyone; I could only think of myself. I found I could no longer continue such a life, and thought that with my education I could live independently and have resolved to do so. Indeed, I've already written to regain my post.

EMILIO     If it is so, if I, your sister, and your mother matter not to you, then well done. Well done indeed.

GIOVANNA     Lucia must after all do what her heart tells her. I do not wish to see her distressed by such arguments.

 

END SCENE

 

To be continued ....

 



 



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!