Part 14

SIGNORA FROLA. But I can tell from the way you all look at me.... Please excuse me, but it is not a question of me at all. From the way you all look at me I can tell that he came here to prove something that I would never have confessed for all the money in the world. You will all bear me out, won't you? When I came here a few moments ago you all asked me questions that were very cruel questions to me, as I hope you will understand. And they were questions that I couldn't answer very well; but anyhow I gave an explanation of our manner of living which can be satisfactory to nobody, I am well aware. But how could I give you the real reason? How could I tell you people, as he's doing, that my daughter has been dead for four years and that I'm a poor, insane mother who believes that her daughter is still living and that her husband will not allow me to see her?

AGAZZI (_quite upset by the ring of deep sincerity he finds in Signora Frola's manner of speaking_). What do you mean, your daughter?

SIGNORA FROLA (_hastily and with anguished dismay written on her features_). You know that's so. Why do you try to deny it? He did say that to you, didn't he?

SIRELLI (_with some hesitation and studying her features warily_). Yes ... in fact ... he did say that.

SIGNORA FROLA. I know he did; and I also know how it pained him to be obliged to say such a thing of me. It is a great pity, Commendatore! We have made continual sacrifices, involving unheard of suffering, I assure you; and we could endure them only by living as we are living now. Unfortunately, as I well understand, it must look very strange to people, seem even scandalous, arouse no end of gossip! But after all, if he is an excellent secretary, scrupulously honest, attentive to his work, why should people complain? You have seen him in the office, haven't you? He is a good worker, isn't he?

AGAZZI. To tell the truth, I have not watched him

## particularly, as yet.

SIGNORA FROLA. Oh he really is, he really is! All the men he ever worked for say he's most reliable; and I beg of you, please don't let this other matter interfere. And why then should people go tormenting him with all this prying into his private life, laying bare once more a misfortune which he has succeeded in mastering and which, if it were widely talked about, might upset him again personally, and even hurt him in his career?

AGAZZI. Oh no, no, Signora, no one is trying to hurt him. It is nothing to his disgrace that I can see. Nor would we hurt you either.

SIGNORA FROLA. But my dear sir, how can you help hurting me when you force him to give almost publicly an explanation which is quite absurd--ridiculous I might even say! Surely people like you can't seriously believe what he says? You can't possibly be taking me for a lunatic? You don't really think that this woman is his second wife? And yet it is all so necessary! He needs to have it that way. It is the only way he can pull himself together; get down to his work again ... the only way ... the only way! Why he gets all wrought up, all excited, when he is forced to talk of this other matter; because he knows himself how hard it is for him to say certain things. You may have noticed it....

AGAZZI. Yes, that is quite true. He did seem very much excited.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SIGNORA FROLA. God forbid! Of course she is not dead!

AGAZZI. Well, then, he is the lunatic!

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

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

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

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

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

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

(_Bowing and smiling, she goes out through the rear door. The others stands there in silence, looking at each other with blank astonishment on their faces_).

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

_Curtain._

## ACT II

_Councillor Agazzi's study in the same house. Antique furnishings with old paintings on the walls. A portière over the rear entrance and over the door to the left which opens into the drawing room shown in the first act. To the right a substantial fireplace with a big mirror above the mantel. A flat top desk with a telephone. A sofa, armchairs, straight back chairs, etc._

_As the curtain rises Agazzi is shown standing beside his desk with the telephone receiver pressed to his ear. Laudisi end Sirelli sit looking at him expectantly._

AGAZZI. Yes, I want Centuri. Hello ... hello ... Centuri? Yes, Agazzi speaking. That you, Centuri? It's me, Agazzi. Well? (_He listens for some time_). What's that? Really? (_Again he listens at length_). I understand, but you might go at the matter with a little more speed.... (_Another long pause_). Well, I give up! How can that possibly be? (_A pause_). Oh, I see, I see.... (_Another pause_). Well, never mind, I'll look into it myself. Goodbye, Centuri, goodbye! (_He lays down the receiver and steps forward on the stage_).

SIRELLI (_eagerly_). Well?

AGAZZI. Nothing! Absolutely nothing!

SIRELLI. Nothing at all?

AGAZZI. You see the whole blamed village was wiped out. Not a house left standing! In the collapse of the town hall, followed by a fire, all the records of the place seem to have been lost--births, deaths, marriages, everything.

SIRELLI. But not everybody was killed. They ought to be able to find somebody who knows them.

AGAZZI. Yes, but you see they didn't rebuild the place. Everybody moved away, and no record was ever kept of the people, of course. So far they have found nobody who knows the Ponzas. To be sure, if the police really went at it, they might find somebody; but it would be a tough job.

SIRELLI. So we can't get anywhere along that line! We have got to take what they say and let it go at that.

AGAZZI. That, unfortunately, is the situation.

LAUDISI (_rising_). Well, you fellows take a piece of advice from me: believe them both!

AGAZZI. What do you mean--"believe them both"?...

SIRELLI. But if she says one thing, and he says another....

LAUDISI. Well, in that case, you needn't believe either of them!

SIRELLI. Oh, you're just joking. We may not be able to verify the stories; but that doesn't prove that either one or the other may not be telling the truth. Some document or other....

LAUDISI. Oh, documents! Documents! Suppose you had them? What good would they do you?

AGAZZI. Oh, I say! Perhaps we can't get them now, but there were such documents once. If the old lady is the lunatic, there was, as there still may be somewhere, the death certificate of the daughter. Or look at it from the other angle: if we found all the records, and the death certificate were not there for the simple reason that it never existed, why then, it's Ponza, the son-in-law. He would be the lunatic.

SIRELLI. You mean to say you wouldn't give in if we stuck that certificate under your nose tomorrow or the next day? Would you still deny....

LAUDISI. Deny? Why ... why ... I'm not denying anything! In fact, I'm very careful not to be denying anything. You're the people who are looking up the records to be able to affirm or deny something. Personally, I don't give a rap for the documents; for the truth in my eyes is not a matter of black and white, but a matter of those two people. And into their minds I can penetrate only through what they say to me of themselves.

SIRELLI. Very well--She says he's crazy and he says she's crazy. Now one of them must be crazy. You can't get away from that. Well which is it, she or he?

AGAZZI. There, that's the way to put it!

LAUDISI. But just observe; in the first place, it isn't true that they are accusing each other of insanity. Ponza, to be sure, says his mother-in-law is insane. She denies this, not only of herself, but also of him. At the most, she says that he was a little off once, when they took her daughter from him; but that now he is quite all right.

SIRELLI. I see! So you're rather inclined, as I am, to trust what the old lady says.

AGAZZI. The fact is, indeed, that if you accept his story, all the facts in the case are explained.

LAUDISI. But all the facts in the case are explained if you take her story, aren't they?

SIRELLI. Oh, nonsense! In that case neither of them would be crazy! Why, one of them must be, damn it all!

LAUDISI. Well, which one? You can't tell, can you? Neither can anybody else! And it is not because those documents you are looking for have been destroyed in an accident--a fire, an earthquake--what you will; but because those people have concealed those documents in themselves, in their own souls. Can't you understand that? She has created for him, or he for her, a world of fancy which has all the earmarks of reality itself. And in this fictitious reality they get along perfectly well, and in full accord with each other; and this world of fancy, this reality of theirs, no document can possibly destroy because the air they breathe is of that world. For them it is something they can see with their eyes, hear with their ears, and touch with their fingers. Oh, I grant you--if you could get a death certificate or a marriage certificate or something of the kind, you might be able to satisfy that stupid curiosity of yours. Unfortunately, you can't get it. And the result is that you are in the extraordinary fix of having before you, on the one hand, a world of fancy, and on the other, a world of reality, and you, for the life of you, are not able to distinguish one from the other.

AGAZZI. Philosophy, my dear boy, philosophy! And I have no use for philosophy. Give me facts, if you please! Facts! So, I say, keep at it; and I'll bet you we get to the bottom of it sooner or later.

SIRELLI. First we got her story and then we got his; and then we got a new one from her. Let's bring the two of them together--and you think that then we won't be able to tell the false from the true?

LAUDISI. Well, bring them together if you want to! All I ask is permission to laugh when you're through.

AGAZZI. Well, we'll let you laugh all you want. In the meantime let's see.... (_He steps to the door at the left and calls_): Amalia, Signora Sirelli, won't you come in here a moment?

(_The ladies enter with Dina_).

SIGNORA SIRELLI (_catching sight of Laudisi and shaking a finger at him_). But how is it a man like you, in the presence of such an extraordinary situation, can escape the curiosity we all feel to get at the bottom of this mystery? Why, I lie awake nights thinking of it!

AGAZZI. As your husband says, that man's impossible! Don't bother about him, Signora Sirelli.

LAUDISI. No, don't bother with me; you just listen to Agazzi! He'll keep you from lying awake tonight.

AGAZZI. Look here, ladies. This is what I want--I have an idea: won't you just step across the hall to Signora Frola's?

AMALIA. But will she come to the door?

AGAZZI. Oh, I imagine she will!

DINA. We're just returning the call, you see....

AMALIA. But didn't he ask us not to call on his mother-in-law? Hasn't he forbidden her to receive visits?

SIRELLI. No, not exactly! That's how he explained what had happened; but at that time nothing was known. Now that the old lady, through force of circumstance, has spoken, giving her version at least of her strange conduct, I should think that....

SIGNORA SIRELLI. I have a feeling that she'll be awfully glad to see us, if for nothing else, for the chance of talking about her daughter.

DINA. And she really is a jolly old lady. There is no doubt in my mind, not the slightest: Ponza is the lunatic!

AGAZZI. Now, let's not go too fast. You just listen to me (_he looks at his wife_): don't stay too long--five or ten minutes at the outside!

SIRELLI (_to his wife_). And for heaven's sake, keep your mouth shut!

SIGNORA SIRELLI. And why such considerate advice to me?

SIRELLI. Once _you_ get going....

DINA (_with the idea of preventing a scene_). Oh, we are not going to stay very long, ten minutes--fifteen, at the outside. I'll see that no breaks are made.

AGAZZI. And I'll just drop around to the office, and be back at eleven o'clock--ten or twenty minutes at the most.

SIRELLI. And what can I do?

AGAZZI. Wait! (_Turning to the ladies_). Now, here's the plan! You people invent some excuse or other so as to get Signora Frola in here.

AMALIA. What? How can we possibly do that?

AGAZZI. Oh, find some excuse! You'll think of something in the course of your talk; and if you don't, there's Dina and Signora Sirelli. But when you come back, you understand, go into the drawing room. (_He steps to the door on the left, makes sure that it is wide open, and draws aside the portière_). This door must stay open, wide open, so that we can hear you talking from in here. Now, here are some papers that I ought to take with me to the office. However, I forget them here. It is a brief that requires Ponza's immediate personal attention. So then, I forget it. And when I get to the office I have to bring him back here to find them--See?

SIRELLI. But just a moment. Where do I come in? When am I expected to appear?

AGAZZI. Oh, yes!... A moment or two after eleven, when the ladies are again in the drawing room, and I am back here, you just drop in--to take your wife home, see? You ring the bell and ask for me, and I'll have you brought in here. Then I'll invite the whole crowd in! That's natural enough, isn't it?--into my office?...

LAUDISI (_interrupting_). And we'll have the Truth, the whole Truth with a capital T!

DINA. But look, Nunky, of course we'll have the truth--once we get them together face to face--capital T and all!

AGAZZI. Don't get into an argument with that man. Besides, it's time you ladies were going. None of us has any too much leeway.

SIGNORA SIRELLI. Come, Amalia, come Dina! And as for you, sir (_turning to Laudisi_), I won't even shake hands with you.

LAUDISI. Permit me to do it for you, madam. (_He shakes one hand with the other_). Good luck to you, my dear ladies.

(_Exit Dina, Amalia, Signora Sirelli_).

AGAZZI (_to Sirelli_). And now we'd better go, too. Suppose we hurry!

SIRELLI. Yes, right away. Goodbye, Lamberto!

LAUDISI. Goodbye, good luck, good luck! (_Agazzi and Sirelli leave. Laudisi, left alone, walks up and down the study a number of times, nodding his head and occasionally smiling. Finally he draws up in front of the big mirror that is hanging over the mantelpiece. He sees himself in the glass, stops, and addresses his image_).

LAUDISI. So there you are! (_He bows to himself and salutes, touching his forehead with his fingers_). I say, old man, who is the lunatic, you or I? (_He levels a finger menacingly at his image in the glass; and, of course, the image in turn levels a finger at him. As he smiles, his image smiles_). Of course, I understand! I say it's you, and you say it's me. You--you are the lunatic! No? It's me? Very well! It's me! Have it _your_ way. Between you and me, we get along very well, don't we! But the trouble is, others don't think of you just as I do; and that being the case, old man, what a fix you're in! As for me, I say that here, right in front of you, I can see myself with my eyes and touch myself with my fingers. But what are you for other people? What are you in their eyes? An image, my dear sir, just an image in the glass! "What fools these mortals be!" as old Shakespeare said. They're all carrying just such a phantom around inside themselves, and here they are racking their brains about the phantoms in other people; and they think all that is quite another thing!

(_The butler has entered the room in time to catch Laudisi gesticulating at himself in the glass. He wonders if the man is crazy. Finally he speaks up_):

BUTLER. Ahem!... Signor Laudisi, if you please....

LAUDISI (_coming to himself_). Uff!

BUTLER. Two ladies calling, sir! Signora Cini and another lady!

LAUDISI. Calling to see me?

BUTLER. Really, they asked for the signora; but I said that she was out--on a call next door; and then....

LAUDISI. Well, what then?

BUTLER. They looked at each other and said, "Really! Really!" and finally they asked me if anybody else was at home.

LAUDISI. And of course you said that everyone was out!

BUTLER. I said that you were in!

LAUDISI. Why, not at all! I'm miles and miles away! Perhaps that fellow they call Laudisi is here!

BUTLER. I don't understand, sir.

LAUDISI. Why? You think the Laudisi they know is the Laudisi I am?

BUTLER. I don't understand, sir.

LAUDISI. Whom are you talking to?

BUTLER. Who am I talking to? I thought I was talking to you.

LAUDISI. Are you really sure the Laudisi you are talking to is the Laudisi the ladies want to see?

BUTLER. Why, I think so, sir. They said they were looking for the brother of Signora Agazzi.

LAUDISI. Ah, in that case you are right! (_Turning to the image in the glass_): You are not the brother of Signora Agazzi? No, it's me! (_To the butler_): Right you are! Tell them I am in. And show them in here, won't you? (_The butler retires_).

SIGNORA CINI. May I come in?

LAUDISI. Please, please, this way, madam!

SIGNORA CINI. I was told Signora Agazzi was not at home, and I brought Signora Nenni along. Signora Nenni is a friend of mine, and she was most anxious to make the acquaintance of....

LAUDISI. ... of Signora Frola?

SIGNORA CINI. Of Signora Agazzi, your sister!

LAUDISI. Oh, she will be back very soon, and Signora Frola will be here, too.

SIGNORA CINI. Yes, we thought as much.

SIGNORA NENNI _is an oldish woman of the type of Signora Cini, but with the mannerisms of the latter somewhat more pronounced. She, too, is a bundle of concentrated curiosity, but of the sly, cautious type, ready to find something frightful under everything._

LAUDISI. Well, it's all planned in advance! It will be a most interesting scene! The curtain rises at eleven, precisely!

SIGNORA CINI. Planned in advance? What is planned in advance?