Part 4

ILONA. I do think you might have made some noise to warn us. Why couldn’t you have coughed or something?

TURAI. Suppose I had, what should I have been able to do _now_? You overlook the fact that your very first words, my dear Ilona, left no room for misunderstanding. If I had stopped you then nothing could have averted the tragedy.

ALMADY. [_Coming down mollified._] What a brain!

TURAI. You flatter me!

ILONA. No, he doesn’t. He’s right for once. Did this idea come to you the moment you heard us?

TURAI. No, I got it from you.

ILONA. From us?

TURAI. Yes, stupid of me, I admit. You see, I always assume the best of my fellowmen. And just for a minute I did think that you really were acting. Later on, I realized my mistake.

ILONA. You thought we were acting. Why?

TURAI. Because it all sounded so artificial. No ring of conviction. I refer particularly to the more erotic passages.

ILONA. I don’t wonder. Considering I don’t care one little bit for the man....

ALMADY. What’s that?

ILONA. You heard.

ALMADY. You don’t love me?

ILONA. No.

ALMADY. [_Furious._] So you were lying.

ILONA. Yes.

ALMADY. Just to get rid of me?

ILONA. [_With loathing, vehemently._] Yes. I hate the sight of you!

ALMADY. [_Bitterly._] Serpent!

ILONA. I’d like to murder you!

ALMADY. [_Bursts into ludicrous sobs._]

ILONA. My God!--this is the limit!

TURAI. If you want to cry all over anyone, cry all over me. I like it. It’s like a tonic to me.

ALMADY. What made you realize that we were not acting?

TURAI. The disgusting, sloppy way you began carrying on. No author living would dare put slush like that in the mouth of an actor who was supposed to be making love.

ALMADY. Sloppy?

TURAI. Beyond words.

ALMADY. [_With indignation._] Allow me to inform you--

TURAI. Shut up!

ALMADY. [_His dignity collapsing._] Oh, very well.

TURAI. My friends may be here any minute now. Please go and study your parts. [_To_ ILONA, _who has been turning over the leaves of the script_.] That’s a bit you’ll have to learn particularly well.

ILONA. Which?

TURAI. [_Pointing to manuscript._] These lines here. This loathsome series of speeches--the ones we overheard last night. [_Points._] From there to there.

[ALMADY _looks at script_.]

ILONA. [_Reads._] Odd--I hardly remember--

TURAI. I do. Nor is your fiancé likely to have forgotten.

ILONA. [_Reading._] “I worship you. I adore you. I love you as the church steeple loves the cloud that settles on its summit.” [ALMADY _turns away, embarrassed_.] Just words!

ALMADY. [_Takes script._] “You have used me up and squeezed me like a lemon.”

ILONA. [_Takes script._] Yes, now I remember--

ALMADY. It’s all down, word for word.

[TURAI _takes script_.]

TURAI. Yes, the passage is underlined in red ink. Three pages--here--from page sixteen. It goes on “Come here and let me kiss that beautiful classic brow”--and then--this is the worst bit, here--this mad outburst of sensuality--[_Reads rapidly._] “When I look at _that_--at the perfect shape. The rose flush of that skin--Just to stroke it!...”

ILONA. Yes, but I....

TURAI. I know, I know. [_Reads._] “Hands off!” you said. But he couldn’t have obeyed you for he goes on “My God! How round it is! How smooth! How velvety!” And then I’m afraid he must have got very close indeed for he adds, “And how fragrant.” That’s right, isn’t it?

ALMADY. Quite right. It _was_ fragrant.

ILONA. But I....

TURAI. No, my dear, you did _not_. There was a complete silence until you exclaimed, “You mustn’t bite....” [_Both turn away._] Yes, I should think you _would_ be ashamed of yourselves. [_He gives_ ILONA _the script_.] All right, then; copy it out and learn it. If you ever studied parts in your lives, study these. We’ll have the dress rehearsal at seven-thirty sharp, here in this room. I’ll give you a run through. And after dinner, first performance. And now--?

ILONA. Out we go, eh?

TURAI. You took the words out of my mouth. And don’t forget, we’ve not seen each other for three months.

ILONA. All right--three months.

ALMADY. [_Going out._] A colossal brain!

[_They bow._]

TURAI. I thank you.

[ALMADY _and_ ILONA _go into her room_. TURAI _sits down and resumes his interrupted breakfast. Throughout the following scene he goes on eating quietly, deliberately, and with a good appetite._]

[MANSKY _enters at right, also in white flannels, but looking more doleful and dejected than ever_.]

MANSKY. Have you been up long?

TURAI. I couldn’t sleep. [_He goes on eating._] How’s our infant?

MANSKY. Woke up a moment ago. I left him dressing.

TURAI. You had breakfast yet?

MANSKY. Not a mouthful. Couldn’t touch it. _You_ seem to have no difficulty in putting it away.

TURAI. [_With mock sadness._] One must keep up one’s strength.

MANSKY. I’m amazed, and, if I may say so, a little shocked. Sitting there gorging as if nothing had happened. Can’t you realize we’re absolutely ruined? I’m positively ill thinking about it.

TURAI. [_Mysteriously._] Shall I let you into a secret, Mansky?

MANSKY. [_With excited anticipation._] Yes. Tell me.

TURAI. [_With great deliberation._] I am a man who weighs his words. I do not speak lightly. And I say to you solemnly, my friend, [_dramatic pause._] that this is the best bit of ham I’ve ever tasted.

MANSKY. [_Furious._] Bah!

[_Crosses left to a mirror._]

TURAI. [_Continuing as before._] Juicy--nutty--positively good. [_Solicitously._] Did the boy sleep at all?

MANSKY. He dropped off about daylight out of sheer exhaustion. [_Looks in the glass._] I’m pale.

TURAI. Say anything?

MANSKY. Not a word. Just stared at the ceiling. You know, that’s bad.

TURAI. Ceilings aren’t so bad. Walls are much worse.

MANSKY. What I can’t understand is why a magnificent place like this should have walls like tissue-paper.

TURAI. Ah! These are deep waters.

MANSKY. [_Irritated._] Do stop eating!

TURAI. But I haven’t finished.

MANSKY. Gobble--gobble--gobble! [_Looks in the glass._] My God! I am pale!

TURAI. Suits you. Intellectual pallor.

MANSKY. [_Crosses to_ TURAI.] What about that solution you were hinting at last night?

TURAI. There were several possibilities. I considered them all thoroughly in the night watches--while you lay snoring in your bed. Oh yes, I heard you while I was changing my clothes. [_Points to the table._] Telegrams, letters, all ready. Finally I hit on the best and simplest plan.

MANSKY. Which is?

TURAI. I’m going to do everything possible to make him break with her.

MANSKY. What for?

TURAI. Because that’s the surest way of bringing them together. If he casts her off forever--in two weeks he’ll be rushing after her and falling at her feet. The lady--after a little coaxing--will allow herself to melt. He will coax a little more. She will melt a little more. Finally she will melt altogether--and the curtain will fall on the lovers’ slow embrace.

MANSKY. [_With cumulative contempt._] You thought of that in the night, did you?

TURAI. I did.

MANSKY. All by yourself?

TURAI. All by myself.

MANSKY. Well!!! I’ve noticed all this past year that you’ve been slipping. I realise now, that you’ve completely lost your grip. Our last show died the death simply because you would write psychology into it. And now you’ve become simply drivelling. It’s a great shock to me. Do you know what’s happening? Little by little you’re beginning to think--and that spells ruin for both of us. Haven’t you grasped yet what a frightful knock-down blow last night’s affair was to that boy?

TURAI. Sh! Sh! [_Listens, pointing to door right._] Here he is! [_Enter_ ADAM. _He is also in white flannels. Very solemn and miserable. Pause. He passes them without a word and goes to balcony._] Hullo! Not even a good morning?

ADAM. Oh, good morning.

[TURAI _rises_; MANSKY _looks longingly at breakfast things_.]

MANSKY. [_To_ ADAM _with his best bed-side manner_.] Had breakfast?

ADAM. No.

[MANSKY _goes above table and sits down; starts to eat_.]

TURAI. [_To_ ADAM.] Sleep?

ADAM. No.

TURAI. Nor did I. [ADAM _looks at left wall_.] No. Nothing from there. Not another sound. He left and she went to sleep. _I_ didn’t on your account. [_To_ MANSKY.] Hullo! Appetite picking up? Appetite picking up?

MANSKY. [_Starting guiltily and pushing his plate away._] No. I can’t swallow. Too nervous. I’m a wreck.

TURAI. Try the ham.

ADAM. [_Goes to_ TURAI.] I--my dear Uncle Sandor--I don’t want to be a burden to you two any longer--now that my life has been blown to bits.

TURAI. Come, come, come!

ADAM. I mean it. I know what I’m talking about. There’s a great crack in my heart, and--

TURAI. Come now,--be a man. We had enough of that sort of talk last night. Tell me just what is it you want to do?

ADAM. Before anything else, I want to get away from this place.

TURAI. Quite reasonable. And then?

ADAM. Then I’ll tear up the music I wrote for her--tear it into little bits and burn it.

TURAI. Right. And after that?

ADAM. Don’t be so casual. You know I have nobody in the world but you--you two. If you hadn’t been here, I’d have ended things long ago.

TURAI. [_To_ MANSKY, _who has once more started on the breakfast_.] That’s right. Peck a bit.

MANSKY. [_Jumping up._] No. It’s no good. Absolutely can’t swallow. I’m a very sick man.

ADAM. You see? I’m to blame for that.

TURAI. Now listen to me, my boy. Sit down. [ADAM _sits_.] What has happened, has happened. It’s over, done with, a thing of the past. And I’m going to say something to you now which no young person will ever believe. You’re twenty-five and you’re gifted. The world’s at your feet. And that world, let me remind you, contains a great many million women.

ADAM. What good are they to me? I only wanted this one. [_Rises._] Can’t we get away now--at once. I won’t see her!

TURAI. Oh yes, you will. No scandals, if you please. You arrived here late at night; everybody knows she is your fiancée, you can’t run away this morning. Now, I’m not going to urge--in fact, I--er--positively forbid you to become reconciled to her,--but you must do the sensible thing. In the course of the morning we will go to her and pay our respects, and stay on here another day or two, and we will not breathe a word of what happened last night. You will behave towards her quite nicely and naturally. I know it will hurt. It’s a bitter pill to swallow. But to-day you are a man.

ADAM. Yes. You’re right.

TURAI. Up with the head and out with the chin and damn everybody! That’s the stuff. The day after to-morrow, when we leave, you shall write her a letter, and let yourself go as much as you like. And, no matter how it may hurt, you have finished with that woman forever.

ADAM. [_With an effort._] Very well. And if--it should hurt _too_ much, don’t be afraid that I’ll go back to her. I’ll always have pluck enough to put a bullet through my head.

MANSKY. There! See where you have got us to with your psychology.

TURAI. [_To_ ADAM.] You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

ADAM. [_Smilingly._] It’s all right. It was silly of me to talk nonsense like that. I won’t let you down. You shall be satisfied with me.

MANSKY. [_To_ ADAM.] Good. Then you won’t--er--tear anything up?

ADAM. No.

TURAI. You’ll behave towards Ilona as if nothing had happened?

ADAM. Yes. Honour bright.

[_He holds out his hand._]

TURAI. [_Rises._] I am satisfied.

MANSKY. [_Sitting down to breakfast, a completely changed man._] It’s an enormous relief to me to see you getting hold of yourself again so capitally. [_Eats rapidly._] Bless my soul, yes, an enormous relief. I really feel a little better.

TURAI. I’m proud of you. [_To_ MANSKY.] Haven’t you finished breakfast _yet_?

MANSKY. [_Delighted._] I can swallow.

TURAI. So I notice.

MANSKY. [_To_ ADAM.] Come and join me, my boy. You’ll find your appetite steals back, little by little. [_To_ TURAI, _who is standing beside him_.] He’s suffering. He can’t get over it.

TURAI. We must try to make him.

MANSKY. Come on, my boy--just a mouthful. Try a little of this excellent ham.

ADAM. I don’t want any ham.

MANSKY. Well, a slice of chicken, then--and some nice hot tea with a drop of brandy.

ADAM. Oh, all right. [_Sits down._]

MANSKY. [_To_ TURAI, _who is sitting deep in thought_.] Well, what’s on _your_ mind?

ADAM. After trying to cheer _me_ up, are you going to be depressed yourself?

MANSKY. Do you know what I think’s the matter with him? He’s got another--

TURAI. You win. Another problem.

MANSKY. Theatre?

TURAI. As always.

MANSKY. Oh, my God!

TURAI. Last night, when we came into this room, I was saying how hard it was to begin a play. I’m now thinking how hard it is to end a second act.

MANSKY. Oh, come and end your breakfast.

TURAI. No, I mean it. It’s worrying me. Take this situation of ours, for instance--just as we did yesterday--We have had a curious experience. We arrived perfectly happy and immediately got a terrible shock--a ghastly disillusionment. We’ve managed to survive it, and we’ve got ourselves in hand again. But, suppose these things had happened not in real life but on the stage--suppose this were not a real room but a painted set--suppose we three were characters in a play who had just passed through the experiences we have passed through--

MANSKY. Well?

TURAI. Well, how would you end the act?

MANSKY. [_Impatiently._] My dear fellow! It’s ended already.

TURAI. In a way, yes. But don’t forget that, at the last moment, before the curtain actually falls, you need something more--a new note of suspense--a punch--both, if you can manage it. In fact, just what is implied in that word “Curtain.” Curtain--Curtain. The act must end and yet it must not quite end. The audience’s interest must be snapped up--given a jolt. So, my distinguished collaborator, how about it? You’ve often told me how good you are--try your hand at ending the second act of this dismal adventure of ours.

MANSKY. My dear chap, simplicity itself. Come here. Sit down. [TURAI _sits at table_.] Now then. I’m all for the quiet curtain. One of those charming delicate things the French do so well. _You_ know--sophisticated--lightly sentimental--the smile behind the tear. The three friends sit down to breakfast. Audiences always like to see actors eating. The storm has passed. The skies are still a little dark, but there is sunshine in the heart and all that sort of thing. Let this sink in for a bit--everything very cozy and pleasant. Business of eating--we each have a glass of wine. [_They all take up their glasses._] For a moment--silence--their thoughts are busy with what has passed. [_Pause._] Capital. And then--[_He raises his glass._]--you want a couple of smart lines, spoken with something of a flourish. [_Thinks._] Oh, well--[_Then as if he had thought of what he wanted to say--to_ ADAM.] My young friend, to-day you have become a man--

TURAI. [_Pointing to where he was sitting at the time._] _I_ said that.

MANSKY. For--always remember--

TURAI. Yes, that shows ’em it’s coming.

MANSKY. [_Not heeding him._] Always remember that in affairs of the heart it is not the first victory that makes us men, but the first defeat. [_Lifts his glass._] To Woman’s Treachery, which has made our child a man! [_Raises his hand toward the curtain._] Curtain. [_Curtain starts to come down. They put their glasses down on the table, simultaneously, untasted._ MANSKY _smiles complacently_.] How’s that?

TURAI. Rotten! [_Curtain slowly goes up again._] [_Gets up._] Tame. Feeble. Nothing in the nature of a high spot. I’m not saying it isn’t pretty and graceful. Charming even--but it lacks suspense. [_Pause._] [_To_ ADAM.] How would _you_ do it?

ADAM. I? Feeling as I do now?

TURAI. Give us your idea.

ADAM. [_With tremendous intensity._] Very well, I’ll give you my idea. We start from where Mansky gave that toast.

MANSKY. To Woman’s--?

ADAM. [_Rises._] Treachery. That’s it. I’d say--“No. I won’t drink any toast.” [_Throws glass against the wall smashing it to bits._]

MANSKY. [_Approvingly._] Effective.

ADAM. [_Rapidly losing control of himself and becoming hysterical._] That woman was not just an incident in my life. She was my first great passion. I promised to act as if nothing had happened. I meant to keep that promise. But when I remember that I gave her my life and that she whispers words of love to another man--and--and kisses another man, that’s such unbearable, burning torture, that the only right solution-- [_Grabs small game carving knife from table._]

TURAI. [_Leaping forward._] Hey! Stop that!

ADAM. [_Struggling with him._] No! No!

MANSKY. [_Rushing forward._] My God! You weren’t really--

ADAM. [_Struggling._] Let me go. I want to die.

[TURAI _has got knife away from him. He looks at it intently._ ADAM _stands, pale and defiant_.]

TURAI. What the devil do you think you’re doing?

ADAM. [_Bitterly._] Just--finishing the act. [_He sits down._ MANSKY _follows him and sits down, too. Smiles wanly._] Curtain!

[_Curtain starts to come down._]

TURAI. [_Putting the knife away._] Very bad. [_Curtain goes up slowly again._] Quite impossible. Death’s all right for the end of a play, but absolutely no good for a second act. Besides, the scene was too crude. I don’t say the gallery might not like it, but think what the critics would say. They despise melodrama. Suspense is what you want--suspense and then a quick curtain.

MANSKY. And now, I suppose, you could show us how it really ought to be done?

TURAI. [_Goes to telephone._] Hello. Will you give me Miss Ilona Szabo’s room, please.

[_Bell sounds in_ ILONA’S _room_.]

MANSKY. [_Starting._] What on earth--?

ILONA’S VOICE. Hello.

TURAI. Hello. Ilona?

ILONA’S VOICE. Yes. Who is that speaking?

TURAI. Don’t you recognize my voice? This is Sandor Turai.

ILONA’S VOICE. Oh, how wonderful! Are you here, then? Where are you speaking from?

TURAI. Yes, I’m right here in the castle. Next door to you. Number four.

ILONA’S VOICE. What a perfectly delightful surprise.

TURAI. We came by car last night. All three of us.

ILONA’S VOICE. You don’t mean Albert, too?

TURAI. Yes--and Mansky, if you think that worth mentioning. We’re all three here in this room, and we’ve brought you the finished script of the operetta.

ILONA’S VOICE. Marvellous! That’s something like a surprise.

TURAI. We were hesitating about waking you so early, but I particularly wanted to see you about something. Can you come in here for a minute?

[_Replaces receiver and goes to door._ ADAM _and_ MANSKY _stand where they are_.]

[_Enter_ ILONA _with assumed joy and excitement_.]

ILONA. Well, this is wonderful of you all. [_She kisses_ TURAI _lightly and crosses quickly to_ ADAM _who kisses her hands_.] What a surprise. Albert darling! This _is_ a surprise. [_She hangs onto_ ADAM’S _arm_.] Sandor! To think that it’s--

TURAI. --three whole months--

ILONA. --three whole months since I’ve seen you. How brown you’re looking. And younger than ever. Let me look at you. Wonderful! [_She crosses to_ MANSKY _and kisses him on each cheek_.] And Mansky--how are _you_, Mansky dear? I think this is too sweet of you all. You don’t know how I’ve been longing to see you. When did you get here? [_She returns to_ ADAM.]

TURAI. [_Very gravely._] Just a minute, Ilona. [_He looks through door into her room._] Why, Mr. Almady! Of all people! Won’t you come in?

[_Enter_ ALMADY.]

ALMADY. [_Nervously._] Good morning.

TURAI. Fancy finding _you_ here after all these years.

ALMADY. [_Pompously._] Passing through. Just passing through. I only wanted to say how-d’you-do to the Count, but they wouldn’t let me go. The--er--the shooting-party you know, and the concert. They insisted on my staying.

ILONA. I was _so_ surprised to see him.

TURAI. Pardon me for disturbing you and possibly casting a slight gloom on what must have been a joyful reunion, but I have something rather important to say.

[ILONA _drops_ ADAM’S _arm_.]

ILONA. [_Crosses to_ TURAI.] What do you mean? Nothing--nothing unpleasant, I hope?

TURAI. Yes--extremely unpleasant. [ILONA _sits down, terrified. To_ ALMADY.] Please. [_He motions them to sit down._] Well, then. We arrived here last night-- [_Long pause._] And just now we were sitting having breakfast--we three-- [_To_ MANSKY.] Weren’t we?

ADAM. [_Puzzled._] Yes.

MANSKY. Well?

TURAI. Keep quite calm, please. We were sitting here, having breakfast--all three of us. [_He lowers his voice and speaks very earnestly._] I must entreat you all to hear what I am about to say quite calmly-- Don’t lose your heads--

ILONA. For God’s sake--

ALMADY. [_Uneasily._] Well? What is it?

TURAI. [_Holds up his hand._] Please! [_Dead silence._] What I am about to say--and I shall not detain you long now--must almost inevitably have a shattering effect on the lives--both the private and the professional lives--of all us five people. I have asked myself--is it wise to speak? And I have answered myself--wise or not, it is unavoidable. Ilona-- [ILONA _rises, gasping_.] I have a question to ask you-- [_Breaks off. Dead silence. Then very simply to_ MANSKY.] How’s that for suspense?

MANSKY. Yes. Yes. Well? What now?

TURAI. Nothing. That’s all. [_Smiles._] Curtain! [_Curtain comes down quickly and rises immediately. He offers_ ILONA _his arm, as the rest of the group breathe again and relax their tension_.] We’ve just been having an argument about the proper way to end a second act. [_Leads_ ILONA _slowly to door, left to hall, the others following_.] I couldn’t resist the temptation to show these colleagues of mine how, by the most simple methods, you can make an act end on a note of suspense. You see--

[_He goes out, talking, followed first by_ ALMADY, _then by_ ADAM _and_ MANSKY.]

MANSKY. [_Going out; to_ ADAM.] Crazy. Absolutely crazy. Thinks of nothing in the world but the theatre-- [_The curtain falls again._]

ACT THREE

_As the curtain rises it reveals the room lighted up by the electric sconces and candelabra. A large and elaborately painted screen in silver and green has been placed in front of the window. It is painted to suggest an orchard. The screen shuts out the view of the Mediterranean, but to the left and right of it we glimpse the lighted esplanade, and many more twinkling lights than in the first act, for it is early evening. There are two garden chairs in front of the screen in the raised portion of the room; otherwise the scene is unchanged._ MR. MELL, _the count’s secretary, and the master of ceremonies, enters at left from the hall. He is a fussy, pale young man with high pitched voice. He wears glasses and is in evening clothes. He is carrying a wicker table, and carrying it with difficulty and discomfort. He places it between the two wicker chairs in front of the screen and stands caressing his hands where the table has cut into them._

MELL. [_Calls._] Dwornitschek. [_To himself._] Where is that man? [_Calls._] Dwornitschek.

DWORNITSCHEK’S VOICE. Coming, sir, coming.

[DWORNITSCHEK _enters from the hall, followed by a lackey. They are both in formal, full dress livery of white with knee breeches, and powdered wigs._ DWORNITSCHEK _carries a book, two letters, a scarf and a woman’s hat. The lackey carries a tall brown hunting hat, whip, gauntlets and a large, luscious peach._]

MELL. Oh, there you are at last. Why are you so late?

DWORNITSCHEK. I fell downstairs, sir.

MELL. Well, that oughtn’t to have taken you long. [_He fiddles with the screen._]

DWORNITSCHEK. You should have let _me_ carry those things, Mr. Mell.

MELL. I couldn’t wait. You are so slow.

DWORNITSCHEK. Slow but sure, sir. [_He puts things on table._] When I was a lad, my mother used to say....