{"id":17722,"date":"2026-10-01T12:08:51","date_gmt":"2026-10-01T10:08:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/?p=17722"},"modified":"2026-10-01T12:08:51","modified_gmt":"2026-10-01T10:08:51","slug":"testo-2-2-2-5-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/?p=17722","title":{"rendered":"Uscita di Emergenza-Emergency Exit"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Author’s Preface<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the record, I have no fondness for prefaces, nor for those false variations known these days as “introductory notes”. This attitude, I should add, is especially pronounced when, after comparing signatures, with or without a magnifying glass, it turns out that the author of the preface and the author being prefaced are inevitably one and the same.
This disdain of mine puts me ill? at? ease, when it doesn’t actually make me ill. Yet there is a reason for it: however much one tries to speak humbly and simply, rarely does one escape the insane temptation – let he who is without sin cast the first preface! – to explain everything to everybody. So let’s be frank: there is nothing more intolerable these days than a person who is his own prophet. This, mind you, without factoring in the panic induced by so many introductions, when one doesn’t approach them armed with the most up?to?date of dictionaries.
And yet, as the author of the work in question, I cannot exempt myself from the task of at least clarifying a motivation of mine that ultimately helped frame the entire piece. That is why I will resort to what, under other circumstances – i.e., where the work of others is concerned – I would not hesitate to label a “self?serving autobiographism”.
The reader should be advised that I spent my childhood, that is to say, the years from birth until age twenty – yes, I do mean twenty: it’s always been a prerogative of mine to extend life’s seasons far beyond their normal limits; and even now, when I’m well past forty, I have serious doubts about whether or not I’ve left my adolescence behind – but, as I was saying, the reader should be advised that I spent my childhood in an august mansion in an even more august palace of Naples’ historic center.
But, as happens in the best pulp fiction, destiny was ready to strike. It was an ugly day, in fact, when two men from the Civil Engineering Department knocked at the door, walked in, saw a few cracks in the wall (which we, in all honesty, had always admired for their decorative effects), and declared three-quarters of our house off?limits.
Confined, then, to the only wing of the building that had yet to show the belated but relentless effects of the war, we watched in desolation as bricklayers singing O’ sole mio<\/em> walled up one balcony and window after another. Finally, we found ourselves closed off in something resembling a bunker, dreading the possibility that one day even that structure could collapse on top of us. But we were young and industrious, and after an initial period of hesitation lasting no longer than two years, we managed the courage to move into a space that was far less august, but a bit more livable.
Unfortunately, this is something the two characters of Emergency Exit<\/em> cannot manage. Wearied by an existence that has left them nothing but the bitter taste of memory, they are unable to muster any strength of will other than to pace up and down the one room in which they’ve dug out their hole: always in a frenzy to emigrate, but without ever even crossing the threshold of their own home.
Threats, suspicions, misunderstandings and disguises all make up their tragic and, at one and the same time, clown?like system of dealing with the void of the everyday. But I’ll stop here. The rest of the piece will speak for itself, in the sense that every spectator or reader will be free to find in the play those moods and meanings he or she finds most congenial, even if contrary to those intended by the author.

Manlio Santanelli<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Introduction<\/strong><\/em> by Jane House<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

On Reading, Translating and Playing
Manlio Santanelli’s Emergency Exit<\/em>

In the course of working with Anthony Molino on the translation of Manlio Santanelli’s Emergency Exit<\/em>, I came to admire a playwright, little known in English, whose remarkable talent as a writer of comedy has earned him the respect of theatergoers and professionals throughout Europe. Indeed, Santanelli is a master craftsman. He knows how to create comic situations that result in big laughs. Except for several lengthy monologues, his language is pithy. He understands that “brevity is the soul of wit” and that much depends on the histrionic art. His play gives two actors the opportunity to show off the full range of their talents as performers of comedy. The translators hope they have been faithful to the words and spirit of Santanelli’s original, and that the translation reproduces its clarity and concision. I will talk briefly about the problems of translating this comic jewel into an American idiom and then, at the risk of saying too much, present some ideas that I hope will help American readers to enjoy the play.
Translation from one culture to another is never easy. It was made particularly difficult in the case of Emergency Exit<\/em> because one character speaks what is recognized as standard Italian and the other a mixture of standard Italian and the colorful Neapolitan dialect. It may come as a surprise to many that Neapolitan has its own florid vocabulary, often without equivalents in the normative, media-homogenized language that governs life in most of Italy. In fact, were the play entirely in Neapolitan, people native to the North of Italy would hardly be able to understand it. I remember once being in a hotel on Lake Garda when Eduardo De Filippo’s Napoli milionaria<\/em> (Naples the Millionaire<\/em>) was playing on television. The hotel was owned by a husband and wife; while the man was laughing uproariously, his wife just shrugged her shoulders and told me that she could not understand a word. William Weaver informed me once that when Eduardo took his plays on tour in Italy, the actors adjusted their speech as they moved farther north in order to accommodate to audiences that did not understand the Neapolitan of the original scripts.
In Emergency Exit<\/em>, the two characters – Martino and Angelo – are both Neapolitans by birth, but Martino is very literate. He has learned, through schooling and the ambiance of his work, to speak a sophisticated form of standard Italian; he lapses only occasionally into Neapolitan, usually when he loses control of his emotions. Angelo is not well educated. He speaks Neapolitan most of the time, with a smattering of Biblical vocabulary and Latin phrases picked up in the course of long years spent as a church sexton. This situation poses peculiar problems for translators. In addition to having to deal with two dialects, Anthony Molino and I had to work around self-imposed constraints: we wanted to retain the Italian, indeed the Neapolitan, nature of the characters and did not want to displace them altogether from their “native” environment and background. We also wanted to avoid having the characters speak English with Italian accents. Given these restrictions, how were we to translate the play into an acceptable and hopefully convincing form of American idiom suitable for the theater?
We finally found what we hope is a satisfactory solution. On the one hand, we rendered Martino’s sophisticated brand of Italian into educated English; on the other, we turned Angelo’s Neapolitan into a colorful English containing errors in grammar, syntax and pronunciation typical of first-generation Italian immigrants to the United States with little practice in speaking the language. (Martino’s lapses into Neapolitan also mimic this latter way of talking.) Martino has either no accent or one barely noticeable and very refined. Angelo’s accent is very noticeable. We hope that this solution to the problem of translation helps the play to retain its Italian flavor while making the transfer to an American setting.
There is a fair amount of cursing in the play. Whether a character swears and how he swears reveal something about his nature. Martino, who claims to believe in reason and to abhor religion, is rather sparing in his use of maledictions; unlike Angelo, who otherwise professes a devotion to Catholicism. The translators have been faithful to the original in respect to these curses, and when religious terminology is used we have chosen very often to leave the words as they appear in the Italian text. As for references to the mother figure, who has a primal influence on these men, distinction is made between mamma<\/em> (stress on the first syllable), which is the generic “mother,” and Mamm\u00e0<\/em>, which refers to the personal “Ma” or “Mummy.” Here too, we have often chosen to have Angelo and Martino utter the words in Italian.
In reading or interpreting the characters of Martino and Angelo, one should remember that they do not in the least resemble the underworld types that one tires of seeing in Hollywood movies and on commercial television. Nor, supposing they still have hair, does it need to be black or dark brown! After all, not only have parts of Italy been besieged by invaders from the north (Lombards, Austrians, Germans, French) up to and through the nineteenth century, but European and American armies also fought there in the twentieth century. Which brings me to my next subject: the theatrical heritage of Emergency Exit<\/em>.
Although Santanelli undeniably speaks in a unique voice, no writer emerges from nothingness; behind him lies a deep awareness, conscious or unconscious, of both Greek and Roman drama and the tradition of the Commedia dell’Arte<\/em>, a form of improvised theater that originated in Italy. Indeed, the commedia is a genre that Santanelli knows exceedingly well. His most widely produced play, Pulcinella<\/em>, tells the story of the Neapolitan servant of the title who was a prominent commedia<\/em> character.
The Commedia dell’Arte<\/em> flourished in Italy from 1550 to 1750, but has continued to exert its influence up to the present day. The commedia<\/em> featured a number of stock characters: the Lovers, the aging father or husband Pantalone, the loquacious Doctor, the swaggering Captain, the witty maid Columbine and the male zanni<\/em> such as Brighella, Pulcinella and Arlecchino. The latter were often servant types, but they could also appear in other guises such as a barber, porter, jailer, gardener, painter, or peasant. The commedia<\/em> actors were skilled at improvising the script from scenarios and at devising comic turns or lazzi<\/em>. It becomes clear that this tradition is at work in Emergency Exit<\/em> when one considers the nature of our protagonists and the many comic turns that stimulate laughter and delight.
Early in the play, for instance, we learn of Angelo’s sympathy for camels because they “were born with the misfortune of a bump.” This suggests a connection with Pulcinella, who was hunchbacked. Angelo has other qualities in common with Pulcinella: a vulgar tongue, a thieving and lying nature, a failure to appreciate the finer emotions, a streak of meanness and an ability to survive the unfortunate circumstances in which he finds himself. Martino is a devoted servant of the stage whose superior book-learning has failed to teach him how to get along well in life. Martino and Angelo are, as we learn early on in the play, old acquaintances. Their relationship is a rocky one; their interaction can range from good-humored teasing to outright antagonism and trickery; essentially they distrust one another. Each plays on the other’s insecurity and makes jokes at the other’s expense. During the course of the play, they seem to edge closer to an understanding, but also, as the reader shall see, come closer to blows.
The reader must not forget that a play is more than mere words. As one reads this particular comedy, which bristles with witty exchanges, one must allow the imagination to act out the spoken part: the physical movement, comic timing, emotional and physical expression of the actors and particularly their comic turns which carry us from start to finish, like waves of the ocean. Some of these lazzi<\/em> can be simple: grimaces, obscene and mocking gestures, farting, burping, or pie-in-the-face slapstick. Some can be complicated: Martino’s huffing-and-puffing return from his “trip” outside to find Angelo dressed as a woman; Angelo’s return from his own daring trip to find things turned topsy-turvy. Some can turn into lengthy “numbers” or interludes: moving the beds, trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night, searching for lost objects.
In this play, even dreams draw on commedia<\/em> material. The content of Martino’s first dream about Angelo’s pregnancy comes directly from a commedia<\/em> scenario: Arlecchino does not feel well, so the Doctor gives him an enema using a large syringe. However, it turns out that Arlecchino is pregnant, not sick, and the enema stimulates his giving birth. In Martino’s dream, the scenario is reversed: Angelo’s illness is something of a false pregnancy; sticking him with a syringe only releases a whirlwind of empty air. Martino’s second dream reflects the irrepressible spirit of the Pulcinella character, for Pulcinella, whatever his problems, never dies. In the dream, Angelo rises from the dead in the middle of a funeral march to the church, and the whole city joins him in a lively procession to the cemetery!
Emergency Exit<\/em> has been judged by some as derivative of Samuel Beckett’s existential masterpiece, Waiting for Godot<\/em>, but this is a superficial judgement. Since the protagonists in both plays are hobos and since the action in both plays is circular and repetitive, it is natural for readers to be reminded of Godot<\/em>. However, the differences between the two plays are greater than the similarities. Waiting for Godot<\/em> is set in a mysterious metaphysical landscape where a mythic dimension predominates. Existential anxiety hangs like a black cloud over the stage space despite the efforts of Vladimir and Estragon to amuse themselves. This is the agon<\/em> of man without a god but thirsting for one. By contrast, in Emergency Exit<\/em> there are many references to the real world (the real-life dramas of baptism, marriage, cuckolding and death); to historical personages (Garibaldi) and events (the French Revolution); to high culture (operas like La Traviata<\/em>, artists like Michelangelo and Paganini); and to people one encounters in everyday life (the landlord, mailman, grocer, delivery boy and priest). Angelo and Martino sleep in real beds, in mattresses with real lumps.
The enormous gap between Beckett’s and Santanelli’s visions is dramatically depicted in their treatment of suicide. In Beckett’s story, Vladimir and Estragon find life too difficult to bear and try to commit joint suicide in both Act I and Act II. That the rope breaks and prevents them from accomplishing their aim does not brighten the darkness of their intent, and if their failure provokes laughter, the laughter is grim. In contrast, Martino and Angelo never seriously attempt such a final solution to their problems, and it is unthinkable that they would. These two misfits desperately want to live, despite everything. They do not suffer from existential despair.
These differences produce a peculiar relationship between the two plays. Emergency Exit<\/em> differs from Waiting for Godot<\/em> much as a Greek satyr play differs from a Greek tragedy. The satyr play often took the same characters and themes found in the tragic trilogy and presented them in a highly comic – or satiric – manner. Beckett’s hobos Vladimir and Estragon are waiting for a mysterious character called Godot, but Santanelli’s hobos Angelo and Martino are waiting for a notice from the housing authority. (For the following remarks I rely heavily on Richard Lattimore’s essay Introduction to Cyclops<\/em>, in Euripides II<\/em>, David Grene and Richard Lattimore, eds. – Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1956)
Emergency Exit<\/em> likewise has elements in common with the Greek form. The satyr play was named after its own special chorus of ribald creatures who were half-horse, half-man. In Emergency Exit<\/em>, there is an animal chorus too, one that terrifies our protagonists and increases their fear of venturing outside: a chorus of yowling, hungry, wild cats! We only hear them, but Santanelli lists them in the cast of characters. Martino’s second dream, while celebrating the irrepressible character of Pulcinella<\/em>, also recalls the satyr play’s celebration of the risen god. We should note that Act II, scene 1, takes place on Good Friday of Holy Week, the night Christ died on the cross. Angelo’s “resurrection” in Martino’s dream in the following scene can be interpreted as a satiric version of the sacred Easter ritual. It is especially irreverent because the “risen” Angelo is a petty thief and a liar.
There is yet another parallel to the satyr play, but to spell it out would spoil one of the most outrageous scenes in Emergency Exit<\/em>. Suffice it to say that Euripides’ Cyclops<\/em> includes a mocking celebration of the sacred marriage rite: the sexually aroused and drunken Cyclops drags the fat, wine-loving and protesting Silenus off to his cave. Emergency Exit<\/em> has something similar, which comes toward the end of the play. Immediately afterwards, an ironic telephone call parallels the laughter-provoking coda common to the satyr play.
In short, it seems clear to me that Emergency Exit<\/em> is very much informed by the spirit of the Italian Commedia dell’Arte<\/em> and the Greek satyr play. This is not to deny it the realistic influences of recent Neapolitan playwrights, such as Raffaele Viviani and Eduardo De Filippo, themselves heirs to the classic tradition of Italian comedy. My colleague Anthony Molino takes up this theme in the Afterword<\/em>.
In the last analysis, while Emergency Exit<\/em> does not emerge from a vacuum, neither is it trapped in the past. It is a delightfully amusing and engaging work that stands on its own four feet, or lies down on its own two bumpy mattresses. It is my hope that this collection of notes will give readers some insight into its origins and help them to enter into the high spirits and comic dynamism of this play’s first English translation.

Jane House<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nota del traduttore a <\/strong>Emergency Exit<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Si avverte il lettore italiano che si \u00e8 deciso, per la versione americana di Uscita di emergenza<\/em>, di alterare i nomi originali dei due protagonisti Cirillo e Pacebbene. Da pi\u00f9 parti, infatti, mi \u00e8 stato fatto notare che la pronuncia di questi due nomi sarebbe risultata pressoch\u00e9 impossibile, e quindi ridicola, da parte di un attore americano.
Allo stesso tempo, vi fu una richiesta esplicita, sia del nostro editore che di persone che frequentano il mondo del teatro anglo-americano, di evitare di trovare nomi corrispondenti in inglese, ma di trovarne due che conservassero il richiamo al luogo immaginifico che \u00e8 “Napoli” (e quindi l’Italia) per lo spettatore straniero di lingua inglese. A questo fine abbiamo optato per i due nomi essenziali, molto italiani e di facile pronuncia, quali Angelo (per Pacebbene, con l’ovvio richiamo religioso inerente al nome) e Martino (Cirillo).
Mi \u00e8 stato inoltre riferito, in questo contesto, che San Martino \u00e8 anche il santo protettore dei teatranti, ma questo andrebbe verificato.

Anthony Molino<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riconoscimenti ricevuti<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

La traduzione di Uscita d’emergenza<\/em> di Manlio Santanelli, a cura di Anthony Molino e Jane House, pubblicata dalla casa editrice americana XENOS BOOKS, ha avuto una serie di riconoscimenti importanti: premi americani dalla Pennsylvania Council on the Arts e dalla National Theater Translation Fund.
Inoltre, due sono state sinora le letture sceniche del testo, presso altrettanto teatri prestigiosi: la Wilma Theatre di Filadelfia (USA), e la Gate Theatre (Londra).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Il seguente testo viene pubblicato per gentile concessione della casa editrice americana XENOS BOOKS.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

ACT I

Scene 1.

Total darkness covers the stage.<\/em>

ANGELO (as if he were praying<\/em>) Behold the birds of the sky: do they worry about what they eat? No. For the Lord pro\u00advides for their nourishment. Behold the lilies of the field: do they worry about what they wear? Of course not. For the Lord provides them with clothing. In truth, in truth I say unto you: blessed are the poor, for they will be rich before God. Blessed are those who thirst for justice, for their thirst shall be quenched.

The set is gradually lit, as Angelo\u2019s voice rises.<\/em>

Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be consoled. Blessed are the hapless, for they shall be happy. Blessed are the homeless, for they will see Heaven! Blessed are we all, except for you, you snivelling, milk-livered cuckold! (Shouting<\/em>) Burn, you will, burn in hell for all eternity, up to your mouth in bubbling boiling oil! Your puny ass stuck to a frying pan! I\u2019ll see you fried, deep fried, like fritters or polenta, and the Devil and his madam, with a pitchfork soo big, they poke holes in you to collect every drop of surplus oil! And he gives you that sinister look of his: \u201cWhat\u2019d ya do to them two miser\u00adable souls! What\u2019d ya do?\u201d

By now it\u2019s clear that Angelo is haranguing someone. Upstage left, he stands motionless by the window, his back to the audience. An anxious precariousness pervades the set, emphasized by numerous cracks in the walls. Two poles support the ceiling and divide the space in three. At each end of this \u201ctryptic\u201d is a bed. One, unmade, is empty; the other is bulging with a seemingly lifeless heap.<\/em>

(Without pausing<\/em>) And you say: \u201cMercy, mercy, oh Evil One!\u201d And the devil: \u201cWhat\u2019d you do? First you gotta tell me: what\u2019d you do to them two!\u201d And you, you play dumb: \u201cWhat two? I really don\u2019t remember. I\u2019m kinda empty up\u00adstairs.\u201d \u201cAngelo and Martino!\u201d and he whacks his pitchfork over your skull, right where it\u2019s empty! And you feel a chill come over you. Yes sir. Even in the hellfire. Even in the frying pan. Even in the boiling oil! You think I\u2019m lying? That\u2019s the beauty of hell! That\u2019s why I like it! So then you tell him: \u201cI sent the housing inspector over!\u201d \u201cAnd what else?\u201d \u201cI sent the eviction notice!\u201d \u201cAnd what else?\u201d \u201cI sent the earthquake and the sizamississity to kick them outta my house! But now I repent! Mercy! Mercy, Beelzebub! Mercy!\u201d And the devil thinks it over. He looks at his nails, scratches his head, sighs, and then, being merciful, he reaches for a measuring cup and pours just a little bit more oil into the frying pan! D\u2019you like the parable? Now stop screwing around with us and go \u2018way! We\u2019re busy! We got things to do! We can\u2019t waste no more time on you. And you listen to me: Don\u2019t go sending no more of your emissaries, tax collec\u00adtors, inspectors, hypocrites, spindly spooks, maggots and faggots d\u2019you hear? \u2018Cause we\u2019ll drag them outta the temple by the ears, understand!? (Pause<\/em>) Still, I like to know what you do with all your money! And with our money too! Spend it all on women, eh! On those four whoring bitches, I bet, which includes your mammas<\/em>! Spend it all on clothes and furs, eh! You think that hides your shame? Don\u2019t kid yourself! You no can hide what you got between your legs. You see it and it stinks! (Sounding again like an evangelist<\/em>) And I say again, the lilies of the field do they worry about what they wear? No! \u2018Cause the Lord provides them with clothing!

MARTINO (emerging from under the covers<\/em>) It must be His Holiness speaking from the balcony of St. Peter\u2019s!

ANGELO (not responding<\/em>) And don\u2019t beat your breast when you\u2019re in church. You won\u2019t make it to heaven! In fact, don\u2019t even think it! For it is more easy for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven! It\u2019s been said, it\u2019s been written. And if you read good you find it even in today\u2019s paper!

MARTINO (calmly<\/em>) That\u2019s where you\u2019re wrong. The way things are these days, a rich man makes it easily through the eye of a needle. He gets the needle made to order and screws us both. And your camel is left dreaming about heaven!

ANGELO Bravo! Still half-asleep and already doubting the Word of God! Already starting with the blasphemy! I better cross myself, Padre Figlio e Spirito Santo<\/em>! Listen: if you\u2019re starting out the morning this way, I\u2019m going out, understand?

MARTINO (unfazed<\/em>) Go ahead, go.

ANGELO Why? You think I\u2019m afraid to?

MARTINO I said go ahead, go. I\u2019m not stopping you, am I? Well, am I? Am I stopping you? Go!

Angelo hesitates, then turns back.<\/em>

MARTINO (mocking<\/em>) \u201cWilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale and not the lark that pierc\u2019d the fearful hollow of thine ear. Nightly she sings on yond pome\u00adgranate tree.\u201d Romeo and Juliet<\/em>, Act 3, scene 5.

ANGELO (takes another step toward the door, then turning<\/em>) And what are you pontificating like that? You saying then that camels aren\u2019t God\u2019s creatures too? You saying they can\u2019t get to heaven? What kinda justice is that? Those poor beasts were born with the misfortune of a bump. Sometimes two bumps even!

MARTINO (with authority<\/em>) The word is hump, not bump!

ANGELO (hesitating<\/em>) Huh?

MARTINO Look, the camel in your Gospels is a kind of rope. You think it means the animal. It doesn\u2019t.

ANGELO (taps the side of his head as if to signify: \u201cYou\u2019re out of your mind\u201d<\/em>) Pazzo!

MARTINO So don\u2019t believe me. (Matter-of-factly<\/em>) Do you really think a writer like St. Matthew, who was inspired from on high, would have written something so ridiculous? What does an animal have to do with a needle? He would have had to be out of his mind, St. Matthew, to make so absurd a com\u00adparison!

ANGELO (defiantly<\/em>) I like it more the way I know, OK? And don\u2019t go putting on airs. \u2018Cause in the long run, \u2018tween you and me and the one downstairs… (Crooning<\/em>) \u201cBirds of a feather will flock together!\u201d

MARTINO (ignoring the gibe<\/em>) Who was it anyway? The land\u00adlord?

ANGELO Him. Or his brother. Or some other smelly asshole. I couldn\u2019t tell from up here. Plus the sun was in my eyes.

MARTINO Let me get this straight: you stand there ranting like a madman and you don\u2019t even know who you\u2019re talking to? Did you at least hear what he was saying?

ANGELO (embarrassed<\/em>) When I looked out the window, already he turned the corner.

MARTINO Ah! Now I get it! You were busy preaching even though St. Peter\u2019s Square was empty. But so what? The important thing is to spill your guts, voice your opinion urbi et orbi<\/em>! Let everybody know what you think. Even if no one is listening. Even if the neighborhood is deserted. Of course, your books spell it out: \u201cVox in deserto clamans!<\/em>\u201d A voice crying in the wilderness!

ANGELO You saying is my fault everybody left this place?

MARTINO Of course not! You may be a royal pain in the ass, but that\u2019s stretching it!

ANGELO Is my fault this damn sizamississity attacked us?

MARTINO Seis-mi-ci-ty, Angelo. Seis-mi-ci-ty! Now calm down. Nobody\u2019s saying it\u2019s your fault if the earth rises and falls. For once, you\u2019re blameless. (Pause<\/em>) But it is your fault that we came to live here!

ANGELO (exploding<\/em>) Ecco! I knew it! I was just saying to myself: what time is? This late and no poison spilling from his mouth yet? So tell me: you were maybe breast-feeding when we come to live here? I bring you here by the hand maybe? And if the Good Lord, in His infinite mercy, maybe left you tongue-tied that day, could you no shake that little head of yours? (Shakes his head \u201cno\u201d<\/em>) No?

MARTINO Hold on! Hold on! I remember very well what happened! Like it was yesterday, Angelo! Are you going to deny that it was you<\/em> who stopped me on the street after we hadn\u2019t seen each other for more than ten years?

ANGELO (honestly<\/em>) No, no.

MARTINO Saying: \u201cMarty, you look terrible. What on earth happened to you?\u201d

ANGELO No, no.

MARTINO Do you have any idea what it\u2019s like, after ten years, to hear somebody blurt out, \u201cMy God, you look terrible!\u201d You remember what I said? What did I say?

ANGELO That you\u2019d left home and were losing it \u2018cause you could no find a place.

MARTINO Bravo! And then what did you say?

ANGELO (bluffs an effort at memory<\/em>) I really can\u2019t remember!

MARTINO Can\u2019t remember, eh? But I do, I remember it all very clearly. You said: \u201cSo what\u2019s the problem? Naples is rocking with empty houses.\u201d

ANGELO Well, is not the truth?

MARTINO Not exactly. It\u2019s the empty houses that are rocking and crumbling. And not only the empty ones either. Then you said you\u2019d discovered a neighborhood! (Gestures to show the magnitude of the discovery<\/em>)

ANGELO That\u2019s right, a secluded neighborhood! Why? Is not that true?

MARTINO Evacuated, not secluded! There\u2019s a difference!

ANGELO How was I supposed to know it was evacuated? I only figure it out when the building next door collapse! You remember, Marty? That was scary, no?

MARTINO (solemnly, celebrating the memory<\/em>). Our first seismic shift! (Pause<\/em>) What fools we were! As if those empty build\u00adings were waiting for us! What lamebrains! What idiots! (Almost laughing<\/em>) Walking up and down the street, noses in the air. All bedazzled as if we\u2019d reached the promised land!

ANGELO Sure was! And our eyes they sparkle too, cause we were so happy! \u201cI take that building there!\u201d \u201cNo, that\u2019s mine!\u201d \u201cSays who?\u201d \u201cSays me! I saw it first!\u201d It be like swimming in gold! Then we decide to make a home, a kitchen, and you, you move in. Who knows that beneath it all was that seismic stuff? Tell the truth, though, I sense something… strange… I don\u2019t know… like something it\u2019s missing.

MARTINO People! That\u2019s what was missing! People! What idiots! Pazzi<\/em>! Just like those fools who having drunk their fill at the well, lie on their backs and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. And then they see the sign: POISONED WATER.

ANGELO If I could I\u2019d smack myself silly!

MARTINO It\u2019s no time for regrets. What happened, happened.

ANGELO But you just say was all my fault!

MARTINO OK, OK. I\u2019ll shoulder part of the blame, for hav-ing supported the idea. But it is totally your fault that we haven\u2019t left yet. Yes, yes, I know. We\u2019re waiting for the official notice. Once it arrives – in a week maybe, or maybe tomorrow, or maybe even tonight – we\u2019ll gather up all our fur\u00adnishings, all our riches… (turns and observes the room around him<\/em>)… all our prized possessions… and cart this royal house\u00adhold off to Xanadu. (Pause<\/em>) In the meantime, while we\u2019re waiting for the notice, I\u2019ll go make myself a cup of coffee.

Martino gets up and moves toward the storage space that serves as a make-shift kitchen. Angelo, left to himself, goes to make his bed. He looks at it, caresses it tenderly.<\/em>

MARTINO (shouting, offstage<\/em>) Why haven\u2019t you got rid of this shit yet? You\u2019ve gone and preserved it in alcohol!

Martino reappears holding, with one hand, a jar full of alcohol and, with the other, by the tail, a dead goldfish – which until then had been in the jar<\/em>.

ANGELO Put that down! I told you I have to stuff it!
MARTINO Birds get stuffed, not fish!

Angelo runs to grab the two objects out of Martino\u2019s hands. The two men stare at each other. Martino then turns away and heads for the kitchen; Angelo reproaches him with a routine, infantile gesture. He then returns to his corner to put the strange fetish back in place. Offstage, Martino is heard whistling. Angelo, after putting everything back in order, begins pacing anxiously up and down the room.<\/em>

ANGELO Martino? (Martino remains silent.<\/em>) Marty? (Martino answers with a grunt.<\/em>) What d\u2019you say? Should I do it or no?

(NOTE: Angelo, who has essentially remained a child, has problems with his morning bowel movements<\/em>.)

MARTINO (poking his head out<\/em>). Please don\u2019t start! Or I\u2019ll be the one to go out! (He goes back into the kitchen.<\/em>)

ANGELO (pauses, then timidly<\/em>) So, what do you say, should I?

MARTINO (reappears<\/em>) I get it, you want me to go out!

He moves towards the door (Note: One should keep in mind that these feigned exits appear all the more preposterous if one considers that both characters are dressed in robes, if not in nightshirts).<\/em>

ANGELO (mimicking Martino at the beginning of the act<\/em>) Go a- head, go! Get out! Let me see you try! Am I stopping you? Well, am I?

Martino hesitates, then turns back.<\/em>

\u201cWell, art thou going? That was the duck singing in the pome\u00adgranate!\u201d Juliet and Romeo<\/em>, Act 5, scene 3! Go on, leave! As if I didn\u2019t know you too never go out no more.

MARTINO Says who?

ANGELO Ges\u00f9<\/em>, I stay home, I don\u2019t go out. So I see, you don\u2019t go out. If I stepped out, then I might think: He stepped out too! But I don\u2019t go out.

MARTINO (convinced by the argument<\/em>) You\u2019ve got a point.

He goes back to the kitchen.<\/em>

ANGELO What you doing? You not going out?

MARTINO (offstage, from the kitchen<\/em>) I\u2019m going to have my coffee first. Wouldn\u2019t that be convenient: I go out and you sip my freshly brewed coffee!

ANGELO For your information, I drank mine already (Pats his Belly<\/em>). So, if is what\u2019s stopping you, be my guest.

MARTINO (after a time, reappearing<\/em>). The street\u2019s one big crater, my shoes\u2019ll get dusty, and my pants\u2019ll get all mucky.

He returns to the kitchen.<\/em>

ANGELO (insisting<\/em>) You still no answer me, and I am here hanging!

MARTINO (from the kitchen<\/em>) And I\u2019ve got no intention of answer-ing you. For all I care, you can hang till you\u2019re dead!

ANGELO (whining, he thinks out loud<\/em>) \u2018Cause if I do it now, when I don\u2019t really want to, it could really hurt me – all over! Damage my heart even! But then, holding in all that poison could be worse.

MARTINO (still from the kitchen, singsong<\/em>) \u201cPoison… turn to me and I\u2019ll just answer poison.\u201d

ANGELO Marty, you and me, we don\u2019t communicate anymore!

MARTINO \u201cPoison… resist your kisses and I\u2019ll die of poison.\u201d

ANGELO (bursting out<\/em>) What it cost you anyway? I want some advice is all!

MARTINO (reappears with his coffee<\/em>) I don\u2019t give no shit advice!

ANGELO Just wait till your turn! Am I going to have fun!

MARTINO (sits at the table<\/em>) When it\u2019s my turn, I\u2019ll take care of things myself, without making a federal case of it. And if this is your idea of fun, it goes to show that you are still a baby.

ANGELO Look who\u2019s talking!

MARTINO Angelo, don\u2019t start: you are still a baby! For you the shitpot is everything. It\u2019s like… like… toy land! But will you get it through your thick skull that I\u2019m not your mamma<\/em>! Whether you go, or stall, big or small, hard or soft, just get off my back! (He goes to sip his coffee, only to push it away in dis\u00adgust.<\/em>) Satisfied? Another cup of coffee poisoned!

ANGELO (close to tears<\/em>) All you want is me to explode!

MARTINO (calmly<\/em>) Hah! At least then last night\u2019s dream would come true.

ANGELO (casting a menacing look<\/em>) Not again!?

MARTINO (solemnly<\/em>) Yes again!

ANGELO (hysterically<\/em>) Why don\u2019t you dream dreams of your own dead people? I no understand. Why you get stuck on me. I ever hurt you, for you to spill my living blood every other night in your dreams? (He calms down.<\/em>) Other people, when they snuggle up, at the foot of the bed they find lotsa pretty dreams waiting, one more nice than the other.

MARTINO Must be I put up with so much, so very much, during the day, that when night comes, I take the pebble out of my shoe! Must be my patience is tried so much, so very much, when I\u2019m awake, that when I close my eyes, you simply…

He gestures to signify passing over to the next life.<\/em>

ANGELO No, you playing with my head!

MARTINO You want me to swear?

ANGELO I want you to die! You and all your kind!

MARTINO But why are you so frightened of death? You of all people: Catholic, Apostolic, Roman. Goodness! You\u2019ve served more masses than all the other sextons in the city combined! And that drawer of yours is filled with membership cards for every Catholic Youth Organization in the diocese! You even speak the language of every angel buzzing around us. If one of them stops and says \u201cKyrie eleison\u201d, you can easily spit out the password – and you\u2019ll be cleared.

ANGELO And what if they don\u2019t say that?

MARTINO So they\u2019ll say something else. What do you care? You know the Bible by heart. You even know the prayer for a happy death. Who better than you! Believe me, Angelo, you can die in peace!

ANGELO (desperately<\/em>) But I no wanna die! I no wanna, I no wanna, I no wanna… (Under his friend\u2019s merciless gaze, Angelo goes into a frenzy and suddenly he leaps at Martino and grabs him by the throat.) Now tell me what you dream last night, you hear! I want every single little detail!

MARTINO (gasping<\/em>) What I dreamt? Well, I dreamt that this house was beautiful. Brand new, like they\u2019d just finished building it. (Angelo\u2019s face lights up, but\u2026<\/em>.) But you and I, we… weren\u2019t happy… together. Your belly had swelled up, this big! (He gestures accordingly<\/em>.) And you were complaining… and crying… and screaming for help.

ANGELO And you?

MARTINO (pretending not to understand<\/em>) Me? Nothing, my belly was fine. The same old belly I have every day.

ANGELO Yes, but what were you doing?

MARTINO What was I doing? Pacing up and down the room saying \u201cWhat do we do now? What do we do now? What do we do now?\u201d I just kept pacing: \u201cWhat do we do now?\u201d

ANGELO Keep going! Then what?

MARTINO Then we called the doctor. But he didn\u2019t come, and your belly just kept getting bigger and bigger!

ANGELO But then he came, no?

MARTINO Yes, yes.

ANGELO (relieved<\/em>) Whew! And when he came what happen? Come on, hurry up!

MARTINO He started pacing around the room saying: \u201cWhat do we do now? What do we do now?\u201d

ANGELO Him too?

MARTINO That\u2019s when I figured it out. He wasn\u2019t the doctor, he was the landlord!

ANGELO Bastardo<\/em>! You never make him croak, do you? What then?

MARTINO Then he examined you and said: \u201cI thought you two were faking it to avoid getting evicted. But it\u2019s true!\u201d And then he smiled at me and asked: \u201cAre you the father?\u201d

ANGELO The father?

MARTINO Yeah, the father! That\u2019s what he said. I didn\u2019t get it. \u201cCongratulations!\u201d he said, still smiling. Then I finally got it!

ANGELO Well, give it to me too!

MARTINO He was smiling because you were pregnant! You know, in a family way, like some lovely little faggot sissy

ANGELO Faggot you and him! And then?

MARTINO Then he gave me a sort of syringe, with a prick a mile long. \u201cStick him! It could be an hysterical pregnancy!\u201d \u201cWill it hurt him, doctor?\u201d I asked. \u201cOh yes!\u201d he said, and he left. \u201cOh yes! Oh yes!\u201d

ANGELO You bastard, Marty!

MARTINO \u201cTo dream\u2019s no sin, no fault of mine.\u201d Anyway, che sar\u00e0, sar\u00e0<\/em>. All I did was follow orders. And no sooner did the syringe enter your belly when – whoosh!<\/em> – this whistling sound just came out. No, it was more like a dreadful wind actually! A kind of cyclone! The windows and doors started slamming! Uh-uh! Me, I had to hold onto the bed frame for dear life! Everything in the room went flying: chairs, rugs, paintings, sculptures! Then the wind stopped, and you were all deflated. But the house, this house, was the wreck it is now, cracks and all!

ANGELO (after a bit, recovering from the shock<\/em>) Me, I no believe in dreams. Once I dreamed they make me pope. Me, of all people. From a hundred cardinals! Can you imagine me wearing a mitre?

MARTINO You never know.

ANGELO Yeah, right! As if they\u2019d elect me. I don\u2019t even know Latin!

MARTINO If I were you, I\u2019d keep the faith. You already pray for so many things anyway, so what\u2019s one more on the list? In the meantime, start studying Latin.

ANGELO (self-satisfied<\/em>) In which case we solve our housing problem too! Vatican City, here we come! A hundred rooms! Fifty each! Of course, you must attend five o\u2019clock mass all the mornings!

MARTINO Ah, well, you can stay a sexton!

ANGELO What\u2019s your problem with Mass anyway? It never did you no harm, did it? Somebody crack you one in church, for you to hate it so much? Or maybe you swallow a bad host, or a poison one maybe?

MARTNO The poison\u2019s a more insidious one. But you would\u00adn\u2019t understand. Still, I can\u2019t see why you get so upset. If you were still a sexton, it would make sense. I\u2019d be stepping on your turf. But now?

ANGELO Once a sexton, always a sexton! A priest can get de- frocked, but a sexton? Never! But you would not under\u00adstand. You were ruined by the theater. That is right, the theater. And that two-bit theatrical profession of yours!

MARTINO Don\u2019t push your luck with me, Angelo. Without a prompter, there is no theater! Didn\u2019t know that, did you? You think it\u2019s like being a sexton in church, setting up chairs, blowing out candles. Hah! The prompter, Angelo – le souf\u00adfleur<\/em> in French – in his hands rests the script!<\/em> And unless he talks, the actors, they don\u2019t speak a single word, and the audience, there\u2019s nothing for them to hear! Next day, the newspapers, they\u2019ve got no reviews! Got that? The prompter, when he holds the script<\/em>, he\u2019s the Law! The Word! He\u2019s St. Mark! (Speaking like Angelo<\/em>) Can you under\u00adstand that at least?!

ANGELO (provocatively<\/em>) Your theater is full of whoring bitches and faggot pettyphiles!

MARTINO (normal speech<\/em>) Such mediocrity! (Pause<\/em>) You are so pedestrian, Angelo! And so obsessed with the sins of the flesh! There\u2019s no talking with you! What good is it? Any dialogue between us ended over two hundred years ago, with the French Revolution. That\u2019s right, because you, you\u2019re nothing but a church lackey! Whereas I, I am a child of \u201889!

ANGELO What\u2019s the 89? A gambling casino?

MARTINO Need I say more? Mediocrity personified! How can I even bear to look at you, let alone take all your bullshit? Out! Begone with you from la commune<\/em>!

ANGELO Dreams don\u2019t always come true, you know, so don\u2019t wait for me to croak, \u2018cause I won\u2019t, even if there is an earthquake!

As if to highlight Angelo\u2019s remark, a rod wedged into the wall (as a makeshift indicator of seismic activity) crashes with a thud. There is a momentary, tension-filled pause.<\/em>

MARTINO I wouldn\u2019t be too sure if I were you.

ANGELO (gritting his teeth<\/em>) Madonna mia santa<\/em>! The crack, it\u2019s growing! And it\u2019s all your fault! For talking all that shit!

MARTINO Me? What did I do?

ANGELO Yes, you! You! Is not just what you say, but what you think! Inside, your soul is rotten to the core! And the good Lord, he punishes you and he gets me too – just for living under the same roof!

MARTINO This lord of yours, isn\u2019t he a little heavy-handed? I mean, why destroy an entire neighborhood to punish just one sinner?!

ANGELO You think we mean anything? \u201cDust ye are, and unto dust ye shall return!\u201d The end has arrived! St. John, the Apocalypse! \u201cThen the angel took the censer and filled it with fire from the altar and poured it on the earth, and there followed thunder peals, rumblings, lightning flashes and earthquakes!\u201d

MARTINO Shut up, don\u2019t make things worse!

ANGELO We\u2019ll end up like dogs!

MARTINO It\u2019ll serve you right, the way you complain about bitches all the time! (Pause<\/em>) Do you realize, Angelo, that a thousand years from now, when they come to dig us up, it\u2019ll be just like Pompeii! Just think, you and me, all petrified. I can see it now. Here they come with shovels and hoes and chests, and all the rest of the modern paraphernalia! There\u2019s an archaeologist directing the excavations: \u201cHere!\u201d he says, and points to where we\u2019re buried. The workers start to dig, and they dig, and they dig… and the rubble they uncover has fused with the roots of trees, and the mud of centuries… and they dig and they dig and… you know what I think? As soon as they find you, they cover you right back up!

ANGELO (overcome with fear<\/em>). Is time we get out! Now, understand? Not one minute more! (His voice levels out.<\/em>) We gotta decide where to go.

MARTINO Now there\u2019s the essence of the Apocalypse! (Pause<\/em>) But, excuse me, weren\u2019t we waiting for the notice?

ANGELO I no understand! You want us to die?!

MARTINO Listen to me! First, if it\u2019s a matter of some \u2018heavenly score\u2019 that\u2019s being settled, why don\u2019t you leave, and then everything can fall on my head. Second, it\u2019s better you go alone. I\u2019m tired of living hand-to-mouth. Even somewhere else, what\u2019s the guarantee? Unless we moved to another town. But still, even there… everything seems… so… precarious… like… it\u2019s all hanging… by a thread. So what\u2019s the use of any effort? All things being equal, I might as well stay here, where at least I know what to expect. And I\u2019ll save myself the moving expenses.

ANGELO (after reflecting at length<\/em>) If that\u2019s the case, I stay too. Where\u2019m I gonna go by myself? I cannot be alone. Know what? Let us move the beds. That way we avoid the ava\u00adlanche! There\u2019s got to be safer spots somewhere in this room. We find them, and the problem it\u2019s solved!

MARTINO You know something, you\u2019re right! That\u2019s a great idea! Come on, Angelo, let\u2019s get a move on!

A sort of pantomime begins to take form within the scene itself, an exercise resembling a mining exploration, or a speleological adventure, made all the more evocative thanks to the cumbersome presence of the poles at the center of the set.

Using their knuckles, the two characters tap methodically at the walls, listening carefully for any resonances. They then proceed to heap their furnishings and personal belongings onto their respective beds.

Lights should be progressively dimmed until the scene is acqueous, barely perceptible. It is in this diaphanous, unreal atmosphere that each of the characters latches onto his cot, as if it were a little wagon or shopping cart, and begins to move around the room.

What ought to be communicated is an allegory of nomadic life, the image of a wandering tribe.

As the lighting is increased, we see that nothing has changed, except for the fact that Martino and Angelo have changed places!<\/em>

ANGELO (enthused<\/em>) There! Now this is what I call an improve\u00ad ment! Isn\u2019t it?

MARTINO Let\u2019s hope so. Considering all the work we did.

Exhausted, they sit on their respective beds.<\/em>

MARTINO Come to think of it, this place is not that bad.

ANGELO You no kidding! I got its picture stamped on my mind!

MARTINO (provocatively<\/em>) You obviously never fully appreciated it.

ANGELO (threatening to reclaim his old place<\/em>). Oh really?

MARTINO (harshly<\/em>) No. No! What\u2019s done is done, Angelo!

Angelo gives up trying to reclaim his former place, while Martino becomes familiar with his new accommodations. He dumps his be\u00adlongings and tries to stretch out, experiments with various positions. Angelo, on the other hand, is busy putting things away; then, with great difficulty, he starts to turn over his mattress.<\/em>

MARTINO What are you doing?

ANGELO Turning it downside up.

MARTINO (subtly<\/em>) Why?

ANGELO \u2018Cause there\u2019s a lump right… there, right there against my kidneys. This morning was so bad, I woke up like a stiff.

MARTINO (feigning interest<\/em>) Keep that up, and it\u2019s your kidneys that will be downside up. Here, let me help.

He starts to move towards Angelo.<\/em>

ANGELO (clearly over-reacting<\/em>) No! No! I do it by myself! I need nothing from nobody! Stay away!

MARTINO So protective of your litter! That\u2019s another one of your quirks I\u2019ll never understand.

ANGELO There\u2019s nothing to understand. Is my bed, and I see to it myself! You not my mamma<\/em>, you say so yourself. And I ain\u2019t no baby either!

MARTINO Whatever you say. I\u2019ve got better things to do with my time. (Returning to his place<\/em>) So, here we are. Finally! (His satisfaction is shortlived.<\/em>) Except now I\u2019ve got to start all over again. You know, it\u2019s not easy getting a feel for a place that\u2019s entirely different, studying one by one each and every stain on the ceiling. These here, they\u2019re nothing like the old ones. Not at all. It\u2019s nothing like the ceiling you got.

ANGELO So now you want my ceiling stains? Come on, you carry a stick over here. We then see what we can peel off.

MARTINO Go ahead. Make fun! You think it\u2019s easy? Looking up and finding a totally different image, a different picture, over your head? After all that staring, all that pondering. You\u2019re not used to what you see anymore! It\u2019s like somebody moving to Australia. When he looks at the sky, instead of the North Star, he finds the Southern Cross! (Long, tense pause<\/em>) And then, when you get out of bed, you even have to remember to roll the other way!

ANGELO (amused<\/em>) And you still will forget and bang your head against the wall!

MARTINO All the better! That way we\u2019ll demolish this hovel once and for all! A single head butt, that\u2019s all it\u2019ll take! (He puts away some more things, then sits on the bed and opens a knap\u00adsack<\/em>.) It reminds me of when we toured with the company! Back in the days of la Grande Signora<\/em>! We played all the big towns, you know. Everywhere, a huge success! The house was sold out every night. Standing room only. But what a miserable life! Milano: Hotel Flora! Bergamo: Hunter\u2019s Lodge! Ascoli: wait, it\u2019ll come to me… yes, that\u2019s it: Hotel della Patria! What a pigsty! Couldn\u2019t wait to leave that port. I\u2019ve slept in more beds in my life… To the point that I craved my own house, which might have been a pigsty too, but at least I could get a handle on things there, get organized. And I remember, when we\u2019d come back from a tour, every time the same feeling, every time my heart would tremble. Until I saw the first houses, always the same feeling! I always felt that if I found this city where it belonged, it would be by sheer coincidence… been here for twenty-five hundred years, and still I get the impression that it\u2019s going to move somewhere else. There\u2019s always this anxiety, you know, that a king, a saint, or maybe some rabble-rouser will get up one day and say: \u201cFold your tents! Let\u2019s pack it up! It\u2019s time!\u201d Then, of course, there\u2019s always the chance that nobody shows. But coming back – after being away – there\u2019s nothing worse! I was never a bedouin, of course, or a desert rat, and yet I know exactly what they must feel when they\u2019re only one dune away from closing in on their camp. The tip of the stomach gets tied up in knots – right here – and you think: \u201cI bet they\u2019ve left. I bet there\u2019s nothing there!\u201d Yes! That was the sensation I had every time I saw Vesuvius surge against the horizon! Which is why, at a certain point, I started to resent going on tour. And then la Grande Signora<\/em> died. The theater fell on hard times. So I retired. Started binding books, work I could do at home. Anybody wants me, they know where to look. Otherwise, screw them. (Angelo, mean\u00adwhile, mocks him.<\/em>) Don\u2019t kid yourself, Angelo. That\u2019s how things are. This city, it\u2019s a refugee camp. So what if it has lasted twenty-five centuries? It\u2019s still only a camp the Greeks set up. An old, tattered camp that\u2019s changed hands one too many times.

ANGELO Me, I never had that impression coming back from Church. You know why? \u201cWith Jesus I walk, with Jesus I sleep, with Jesus there\u2019s no fear to keep.\u201d

MARTINO You were never a traveling sexton, that\u2019s why!

ANGELO (after reflecting at length<\/em>) I make up my mind: I\u2019m gonna do it!

He heads solemnly towards the bathroom.<\/em>

MARTINO It\u2019s about time the prognosis got… unloosened! Tell you what: if that\u2019s the case, you can drop one for me as well. One less thing for me to worry about.

ANGELO (stops in his tracks<\/em>) You wanna go first?

MARTINO Are you kidding? With all the time it took for a verdict, why retry the case? Go ahead! Go, go. And may St. Anne be with you.

ANGELO (whining<\/em>) You see what you do! You think St. Anne should accompany me in there?

MARTINO Ah, right, three is a crowd. I forgot about your guardian angel!

ANGELO You pissing me off. Now I am losing my inspiration!

MARTINO (pushing Angelo<\/em>) Never! Please! You hold onto that inspiration! The Sistine Chapel awaits you! \u2018Cause if you don\u2019t do the frescoes, we\u2019ll have to hire Michelangelo! And you know how expensive he can be!

He shuts Angelo in the bathroom and then, left to himself, walks around the room looking for his bookbinding instruments. He fails to find them. As he\u2019s searching…<\/em>

MARTINO Maybe I can finish that dictionary job for the professor. Speaking of which, two months and not a sign of the man. I wonder what\u2019s happened to him. He never did have much luck. Then again, his head\u2019s in a cloud! So absent-minded! Now the glue\u2019s missing, too. Try finding it in this mess – in this dump! (Calling out<\/em>). Angelo! Have you seen my glue?

ANGELO (from inside the bathroom<\/em>) Keep looking! It\u2019s gotta be there! (Concerned<\/em>) Just keep your paws off my stuff, \u2018cause I no take anything. And watch it, you. I can see every move you make from over here!

MARTINO Don\u2019t worry! Relax! (Still searching<\/em>) Every time something gets lost in this house…

At this point he has crossed the dividing line and moved into Angelo\u2019s territory.<\/em>

ANGELO (suddenly, again from the bathroom<\/em>). Where you going?

Martino raises his hands as if to surrender and returns to his corner.<\/em>

MARTINO (muttering<\/em>) Last time I used it, I put it right here somewhere.

ANGELO (hearing everything<\/em>) Then is where it is!

MARTINO (still searching<\/em>). Angelo, how does the Bible explain the mystery of Creation?

ANGELO How stupid can you get, Marty? In the beginning was the Word, right? So the Word all things pulled out of chaos, and put them back in order.

Martino pulls up a chair and sits down calmly, facing the entrance to the apartment.<\/em>

ANGELO What you doing now?

MARTINO Can\u2019t you tell? I\u2019m waiting for the Creation!

Blackout<\/em>

Scene 2.<\/strong>

Lights up. Angelo is staring out the window.<\/em>

MARTINO On guard, sentry! Oh, right! You\u2019re waiting for the notice! And, of course, the notice needs help up the stairs. The way you stand guard by that window all the time, you look like you\u2019re expecting trouble. Any second now you\u2019ll start screeching, \u201cThe Turks are coming! The Turks are coming!\u201d

ANGELO Go on, make fun! Meantime, I really got this nauseous feeling that any second now, that turkey<\/em> landlord is gonna show and raise the rent – for improvements costs.

MARTINO I wouldn\u2019t put it past him! Wasn\u2019t it just barely one month we were here, and he came knocking for a security deposit? He should be paying us, for our courage, for our fearlessness in the face of danger!

ANGELO Astronauts get medals for going to the moon. At least they can give us metal buttons!

MARTINO Hear, hear, Angelo! You read the headlines: \u201cConfined to the cockpit of the space capsule.\u201d Big deal! Are we any better off here? At least up there they\u2019ve got all the comforts: espresso! hot chocolate!

ANGELO But they eat synthetic food.

MARTINO (weighing his words<\/em>) As for that, we might well…

ANGELO We might well what?

MARTINO (perfidiously<\/em>) Be headed in the same direction.

ANGELO What is it you trying to say?

MARTINO Oh nothing, nothing.

ANGELO Don\u2019t you nothing me!

MARTINO (decisively<\/em>) Angelo, those meatballs you made last night were pretty close to synthetic. Only thing missing was the sugar-coated capsule!

ANGELO (approaching Martino menacingly<\/em>). Now you listen up, Marty. The money \u2018round here is all gone! You sure don\u2019t give me none. So no dough, no bread! Plus the grocery boys don\u2019t wanna deliver here no more, not for only two people, when a window can come crashing down on them or, even worse, a cat can attack! Bottom line, is no food. Finito<\/em>! Starting tomorrow, you wanna eat, you be the one to go out and shop!

MARTINO (calmly<\/em>) Ah! So the specter of famine pops up again!

ANGELO That\u2019s right! Is famine all right!

MARTINO As if I didn\u2019t know you\u2019ve got stuff stashed away, just to jack up the prices, so you can screw me with your black market.

ANGELO Me?

MARTINO Well, not me! You think I forgot the time you sold me a quarter-pound of salami for ten mil? Ten thousand lire! I could have bought myself the whole pig almost.

ANGELO It was Friday.

MARTINO Oh, of course. No salami on Fridays. It\u2019s a mortal sin! Didn\u2019t stop you, though, from peddling the stuff! No, you gave me your papal dispensation, and boy did I pay through the nose! It\u2019s the old story of indulgences. Just a homespun version of the Church\u2019s classic propensity for simony!

ANGELO (embarrassed<\/em>) Things were different then. Now there\u2019s really nothing left.

MARTINO (staying calm<\/em>) Then how do you explain all this.

He goes to the cupboard where bags of flour and other groceries are stashed.<\/em>

ANGELO Don\u2019t touch that! Is for the pastiera<\/em>! You forget is almost Easter?

MARTINO And since when do you need thirty kilos of flour for a ricotta fruitcake?

ANGELO I like to make sure there\u2019s plenty! Plus is my recipe and none of your business! Go play with yourself! Otherwise, here, you run this shack! You put on the apron! I no need it anymore, capisc\u2019<\/em>? Think I enjoy this crap? Think I\u2019m stuffing my pockets maybe? Is that what you think? Come on, tell me. Is it?

MARTINO (in a conciliatory tone<\/em>) Ecco!<\/em> Here we go. There\u2019s no room for discussion with you. You\u2019re so negative, my friend! You\u2019re like those horses who see straw in their water and refuse to drink! I was kidding!

ANGELO No, you was not kidding! You really mean it! And now I got it stamped on my heart: \u201cStraw in the water… Horse won\u2019t drink!\u201d Easy for you to say, especially when the water\u2019s full of your piss. I dare any horse to drink it!

MARTINO Vulgarity, thy name is Angelo!

ANGELO Just watch your step! You watch where you going, buster!

MARTINO Are we going there together?

ANGELO No, alone! You going alone!

MARTINO Well, then, the trip won\u2019t be so bad.

ANGELO (turning his back to Martino<\/em>) Get outta here! You hear me, get outta here?! You got all the blood gushing to my head! (He pauses<\/em>.) You know what I say? When there\u2019s no more mutual respect, is better people go their own way!

Dumbfounded, Martino approaches Angelo and turns him around. Angelo\u2019s eyes are downcast.<\/em>

MARTINO Angelo, are you really serious?

ANGELO (sinister<\/em>) I pick you up off the street! Took bread outta my mouth to feed you!

MARTINO (exploding<\/em>) Basta!<\/em> That\u2019s enough! Anybody hearing you talk would think I was a whore! You should have been an actor! No, better yet, an opera singer! A tenor! (Announcing<\/em>) Ladies and gentlemen, it\u2019s Mr. Alfredo Germont in La Travi\u00adata<\/em>! It\u2019s Chevalier De Grieux! Just look at our Chevalier! But I am not your Manon! (His tone of voice changes<\/em>) In my life there was only once I was thrown out, kind of! You\u2019re getting a little too melodramatic, aren\u2019t you? But then I should have expected it when I accepted your hospitality! I should have know that sooner or later you\u2019d throw it in my face! It\u2019s in your nature!

Martino goes to sit down; then, out of frustration, he pushes a deck of cards off the table and onto the floor. One card travels so far as to fall at Angelo\u2019s feet. A long pause follows.<\/em>

MARTINO (to himself<\/em>) As if I\u2019d stuff my face with bread from his mouth!

Angelo slowly picks up the card.<\/em>

ANGELO (still coming forward slowly<\/em>) How \u2018bout a game?

MARTINO (sternly<\/em>) Go play with yourself and stop screwing me around!

He turns his back to Angelo<\/em>.

ANGELO I will. Solitaire I play! (Shuffling the cards, he starts to sing.<\/em>) \u201cRock-a-bye baby… on the treetop… when the wind blows… the cradle will rock… When the bough breaks… the cradle will fall… and down will come baby… cradle and all!\u201d Ace! Four! (He lays out the cards one by one<\/em>). Queen! (Meaning to provoke Martino<\/em>) You see, Marty, with me, the women they just roll off my fingers. You know why? \u2018Cause I never pay them no mind! Except for Mamm\u00e0<\/em>, God rest her soul.

MARTINO Wouldn\u2019t you know, la mamma<\/em>!

ANGELO That\u2019s right, la mamma<\/em>! You got something to say about that?

MARTINO (after taking his time to answer<\/em>) Me, my mother, she\u2019d tie me in knots.

ANGELO Hold it right there! You no talk about your mamma<\/em> like that!

MARTINO (continuing<\/em>) I\u2019ll never forget it! I was young then. I\u2019d be going out with my friends, and every time the same story. I\u2019d tell her, \u201cMamm\u00e0<\/em>, don\u2019t wait up, I\u2019m eating out tonight.\u201d And she went, \u201cOh, Marty, what a shame! Just tonight I prepared… this dish… and that dish… and another dish… especially for you!\u201d It was always something… extraordinary! Something indispensable to my health, so indispensable I had to eat it right away if I wanted to live till the weekend. That\u2019s how she would foil my escapes! Ecco<\/em>, that was my mother!

ANGELO Always exaggerating!

MARTINO So don\u2019t believe me! Then, the morning after, she\u2019d bring me my coffee in bed. \u201cMarty, you\u2019ve no idea what you missed: stuffed peppers! Che delizia<\/em>!\u201d – and here I\u2019d been out with a woman – \u201cwhat a shame, and eggplant parmigiana! I saved you some, but the cat snuck in last night and feasted on it!\u201d Ecco<\/em>, that was my mother!

ANGELO You all twisted, Marty! Is no affection in you, not even for your mamma<\/em>, who of all women is the most beautiful in a man\u2019s life! La pi\u00f9 bella<\/em>. Obviously later…

MARTINO (quick to respond<\/em>) Obviously later what?

ANGELO Nothing. Never mind.

MARTINO No, say what you were going to say! Obviously later what?

ANGELO (hastily<\/em>). Obviously later you no get along with your wife! That\u2019s what!

MARTINO I knew you were leading up to that!

Angelo, pitiless, bursts out laughing.<\/em> He laughs and laughs, unable to control himself. The more he tries, the more he risks choking.<\/em>

MARTINO Come on, let\u2019s hear what else you\u2019ve got to say. If you\u2019re going to choke, spit it out!

ANGELO What if you get pissed?

MARTINO I\u2019ll choke you myself. But I promise not to make you suffer too much!

ANGELO (still laughing<\/em>) I was thinking of the time you come back from on tour and could not find your own house! You were thinking you would not find the city! Always exag\u00adgerating, Martino mio<\/em>! The city, it stayed put! Nobody touched the city! But your house, how can I put it? (Laughing<\/em>) Your… home… it got… messed with!

MARTINO Given the circumstances, you\u2019ll pardon me if I don\u2019t find all this funny.

ANGELO And you think you\u2019re so smart, Marty! You think you know the world! And still you get screwed like that! San Martino of the Afflicted Heart, finds his wife\u2019s become a tart! If it was me in your shoes and I got kicked out, what would I do? I\u2019d lay some\u00adbody out on the bed… a pretty lady, bella<\/em>… stiff, stiff as a board! Even a baby would do like me!

MARTINO You think I didn\u2019t think about it? I thought about it, don\u2019t worry! I left somebody in the bed, that morning I went on tour… (struggling to tell the story<\/em>)… which turned out to be the last. That person – you know who she was – I kissed her on the forehead. \u201cCiao<\/em>,\u201d I said, \u201cI\u2019ll miss you,\u201d and I left, but that person in my absence saw fit that another person should enter her bed. And fate would have it that he was the landlord.

ANGELO (demonically<\/em>) Probably wanted to be sure she no get evicted!

MARTINO (tolerant<\/em>) You\u2019re probably right. And when I came home – a day earlier than expected – just like in the best of scripts… \u201cHeavens, it\u2019s my husband!\u201d \u201cHeavens, it\u2019s the landlord!\u201d Of the two of us, I don\u2019t know who was more afraid! You know the rest.

ANGELO Still, I like to hear you tell it again! (Roguishly<\/em>) Come on, Marty, tell the story.

MARTINO (staring at Angelo<\/em>) Do you have any idea, Angelo, just how pernicious you are? You\u2019re not just some amateur, you\u2019re a real pro, with at least two degrees: one in bad faith and another in dicking people over! And you know why you\u2019re like that? Because you hate women, yes. You hate them! Even if they\u2019ve never done anything to you! Me, on the other hand, I don\u2019t hate them, even if they did do me wrong. Come to think of it, the poor thing had every reason. I\u2019m no saint. I sucked the life out of her… when I wasn\u2019t busy whoring around.

Forgetting himself while telling his story, Martino has drifted towards Angelo\u2019s bed.<\/em>

ANGELO (pushing Martino away<\/em>) You don\u2019t hate them \u2018cause you exploit them.

MARTINO (surprised by both the gesture and Angelo\u2019s words<\/em>) I do what?

ANGELO You heard me! You make money off them! That\u2019s why you don\u2019t hate them! You exploit them, you exploit them!

MARTINO (astonished<\/em>) I exploit women? Just listen to him! And whom might I exploit, pray tell?

ANGELO Your wife! You think I never noticed? You pimp! You bloodsucking pimp!

MARTINO Stop it, you hear, or I\u2019ll bust your face!

ANGELO No, I won\u2019t, \u2018cause, \u2018cause the whole world\u2019s gotta know! You, you\u2019ve sucked more blood than a baby sucks milk!

MARTINO I have no idea what you\u2019re getting at. But if you\u2019re looking for me to lose my patience, forget it. I will not give you the satisfaction!

ANGELO Then how you make your living? Where you get money when you no work for a year?

MARTINO (with an air of superiority<\/em>) From my bookbinding business.

ANGELO Hah! Listen to him! He put covers on the National Library! You know what? You no even finish your first book, \u2018cause you don\u2019t know where even to slap the glue!

MARTINO Don\u2019t you worry! I\u2019ll learn in time! (After a pause<\/em>) Plus I had some savings put away, and you immediately assume it\u2019s exploitation! You see evil everywhere. (He turns in a circle.<\/em>) Even under your own bed!

ANGELO (Martino\u2019s words have hit the mark<\/em>) You keep my bed outta this. Is you with the guilty conscience! Is you gotta answer for something.

MARTINO (theatrically<\/em>) But Your Honor, I\u2019ve already answered! Savings, put aside throughout years of honest \u201cpromptings.\u201d

ANGELO Oh really? Then explain me my<\/em> dream last night! \u2018Cause last night, Marty, I dream of knockings at the door and the mailman arriving with a money order from your wife, for you! \u201cThis is from the missus,\u201d he says, \u201cshe\u2019s sorry she can\u2019t do more!\u201d

MARTINO You don\u2019t know how to dream, Angelo! It shows all over your face you\u2019re making it up. Look me straight in the eye! You didn\u2019t see that paper in your dreams but when you were wide awake!

ANGELO (deceitfully<\/em>) Aha, so it\u2019s true! But I swear to you that…

MARTINO Don\u2019t swear! Every time you swear falsely, it\u2019s another shot at your kingdom of heaven! Every time, Angelo, bang-bang! (He makes the sound of a gunshot.<\/em>) And another saint falls! It\u2019s the story of your life: a veritable massacre! A carnage of saints! (Turning serious<\/em>) But tell me now: when did you stick your claws in my drawer?

ANGELO What you talking about?

MARTINO (gives Angelo a shove, then moves away<\/em>) And to think you did it under my very eyes! How did I ever miss it?

ANGELO (timidly<\/em>) You were in the john!

MARTINO (menacingly<\/em>) OK! Just wait till you go to the john. Sooner or later, you\u2019ll have to! I\u2019ll wait. (He takes a chair and sits down by the bathroom.<\/em>) I\u2019ll sit right here and wait! Ten days even! Then, when you finally decide not to explode… (begins speaking more like Angelo<\/em>)… that\u2019s when I make my move. Straight for you compartment there, for that litter you protect so much. I strike a match and watch it burn! (Returns to normal speech<\/em>) A beautiful purifying fire, Angelo! I\u2019ll make a pyre, Angelo! I\u2019ll make a pyre!

ANGELO (livid<\/em>) You no dare, \u2018cause this is my house!

MARTINO It\u2019s precisely \u2018cause it\u2019s your house that I\u2019ll do it! Since the verdict\u2019s already in that I\u2019m a pimp and a scumbag, and that I stop at nothing!

ANGELO (after a pause<\/em>) I wanted to help you. You were looking so worried.

MARTINO (depressed<\/em>) What a lovely fraternity, you and me! What a great mutual aid society! And what a life! I cannot turn my back one second without you stabbing me from be\u00adhind! (Again like Angelo<\/em>) I gotta face you all the time, is all there is to it. I no can even afford to blink.

ANGELO But you was not coming outta there!

MARTINO (back to his normal speech<\/em>) See? That\u2019s my point! Anybody else in your shoes, anybody with a conscience would have said: \u201cMaybe he\u2019s not feeling too well,\u201d or \u201cMaybe he fainted.\u201d But not you, you were hoping I\u2019d never come out! What you did was low, Angelo, way below the belt. And you know why? \u2018Cause you were planning it all along. Probably before I ever even thought of locking myself in there, before it had even crossed my mind, you, in the shadows, you were busy plotting! Thinking, in that monstrous little brain of yours: \u201cJust as soon as he goes in…\u201d

ANGELO No. Is not true, I swear! I never knew you were going in there! All I knew is, you were not coming out!

MARTINO (intrigued by the sophistry<\/em>) Hold it. I must be missing something. For me to come out, Angelo, I would first have had to go in. Otherwise how would I ever come out, right?

ANGELO How would I know?

MARTINO Ah, santa pace<\/em>! Did you ever see someone come out of a place without entering it first?

ANGELO Me, I only came out of my Mamm\u00e0<\/em>\u2019s belly.

MARTINO Yes, but before you came out, something else that wasn\u2019t you made it in there before you. Or do you think it was all by the grace and virtue of the Holy Spirit? Although, come to think of it, maybe even the Holy Spirit…

ANGELO Don\u2019t start with your blasphemies, OK?

MARTINO Anyway, back to us. What\u2019s the question? You want to know whose money that is? Well, I\u2019ll tell you: it\u2019s mine. So now you can rest easy. It was money of mine that my wife had kept, money she now pays back a little each month. Be\u00adcause she says it isn\u2019t right for me to pay financially as well! And if she doesn\u2019t pay me back, I walk out of here and sue her!

ANGELO You walk out – you?

MARTINO That\u2019s right! You think I\u2019m scared? I walk out all right! I put on the crappiest pair of pants, cross that threshold, head right down the stairs, and I\u2019m practically out the door. (Pause<\/em>) And if not, I write a letter to the com\u00admissioner, and when you step out, you can mail it! (Pause<\/em>) But the fact remains that you\u2019re a shit!

ANGELO Is not me, I tell you! Is the suspicion thing that blinded me! I was spinning out of my mind! I was thinking: \u201cI bet any minute now they come and arrest him! How am I ever gonna face the neighbors? The police, here, in my house!\u201d

MARTINO Don\u2019t worry. The police, they\u2019ve got better things to do. They\u2019re not going to waste their time looking for me. Unless, that is, they\u2019ve got reason to come up here, for some\u00adone else!

ANGELO I got no record!

MARTINO Who said anything about you? Sure, you\u2019ve got no record. But come to think of it: you never leave the house. You don\u2019t even go to church anymore!

ANGELO I told you: is closed for restorations!

MARTINO But you keep getting invitations from all sorts of church organizations: \u201cDear Brother in Christ,\u201d \u201cDear Child of Our Holy Mother,\u201d \u201cBeloved Nephew of the Sacred Heart,\u201d \u201cEsteemed Acquaintance of Saint Sebastian\u201d – acquaintance only, mind you, because it is the last group you signed up for and relations with St. Sebastian are still somewhat formal.

ANGELO They after my money! Is one year I no pay. But when the church open again, I be set with a couple of masses!

MARTINO A couple of collection baskets, and the con artist here turns the miracle! (Obscene gesture<\/em>) And you wonder why the African babies say: \u201cThose Italians, they\u2019re not so warm-hearted anymore.\u201d But enough about all that, Angelo. And you\u2019re the last person to give me lessons. So do me a favor and just shut up!

ANGELO Only if you promise you won\u2019t think bad of me.

MARTINO Don\u2019t worry, I don\u2019t think badly of you. But I will have to work at it! Now let me get back to the job for the professor. Even if he doesn\u2019t show his face, even if something has happened to him – doesn\u2019t have much luck, you know, he seems cursed, but he might still show up. Between curses!

Martino picks up and fingers the dictionary. Then, yet again, he starts to look for the missing glue.<\/em>

MARTINO And now to find that glue! Why does it always run away? I\u2019m going to have to fix a bell to it, like they do to cats.

ANGELO Your glue? I took it.

MARTINO Aha! And what on earth do you want with my glue? Are you an aspiring bookbinder or something?

ANGELO I used it for the fish.

MARTINO Angelo, it\u2019s books you bind, not fish! Now let\u2019s get me back my glue.

Martino starts towards Angelo\u2019s side of the room.<\/em> ANGELO (leaps across to stop Martino in his tracks<\/em>) Don\u2019t you bother! I get it for you!

Martino looks at him with suspicion.<\/em>

ANGELO (justifying himself<\/em>) Was me who took it, I return it. What\u2019s right is right.

Angelo goes to his corner of the room and returns with the can of glue. Then, in the center of the room, a kind of minuet takes place over the glue changing hands, in which Angelo and Martino get cute with one another. This goes on until Martino abruptly ends the farce with a \u201cBah!\u201d that alarms Angelo and leaves him at a loss for words. Martino then returns to his corner and resumes his work.<\/em>

ANGELO (with tension in his voice<\/em>) Marty… I would… like to get confessed.

Martino, whistling, ignores him.<\/em>

ANGELO You know we got no secrets, Marty.

MARTINO No, I don\u2019t. (He keeps on whistling.<\/em>)

ANGELO (emphatically<\/em>) Then you should know, \u2018cause that\u2019s the way it is. I cannot hide anything from you. Which is why I feel, I feel a lump, right here!

MARTINO (he turns around<\/em>) Where?

ANGELO (pointing to his stomach<\/em>) Here.

MARTINO Your stomach? It\u2019s nothing. Probably some pill of yours that didn\u2019t dissolve. Just wash it down.

ANGELO Marty, you know perfect what I mean. Is a moral lump. Marty, I\u2019m sick! I\u2019m sick I tell you! I\u2019m spinning out of my head! And I gotta let it out.

MARTINO Not with me you don\u2019t! (He points towards the window.<\/em>) Go over there, with the throngs of St. Peter\u2019s. The whole square is waiting for you, wondering: \u201cHow come Angelo has yet to let it out?\u201d

ANGELO No, Marty, this no something I can call out in the streets! Is something I can only tell a friend, a true friend! Marty, I wanna get confessed! It hurts, Marty, it does really. You no have to do anything. Just listen.

MARTINO Which is precisely what I don\u2019t want to do! You got a lump? Live with it! (Again speaking like Angelo<\/em>) I got enough lumps of my own. (Normal speech<\/em>) Listen to me, do like the Protestants do and confess directly to God!

ANGELO I could not do that!

MARTINO Right, how could you? You\u2019d miss out on the chit-chat. No priest to talk shop with. Plus, you never know what God might say if called on directly!

ANGELO Marty, I\u2019m in real pain, in great pain!

MARTINO Then do like the Muslims do: just kneel on a carpet. Better yet, know what you can do? Go up to the terrace. OK, so there are no turrets in the vicinity; no palm trees either. But it\u2019s plenty deserted. (Again speaking like Angelo<\/em>) So maybe you go up to the terrace and let out a litany!

ANGELO And who is gonna hear all the torment I got inside? I need you to be judge!

MARTINO (his normal speech<\/em>). I am one severe judge, Angelo! It wouldn\u2019t be in your best interest! Me, I show no leniency for your kind! You might say: \u201cMartino, I stole a candy bar!\u201d And I would answer: \u201cThen hang yourself! Steal a candy bar and it\u2019s off to the gallows!\u201d

ANGELO (after a long pause<\/em>). My mother, when I was a kid, she never let me play with the boys!

MARTINO (to himself<\/em>) How trite!

ANGELO And the only time I went to a cathouse, I had to run! I felt all choked!

MARTINO Was the gas left on?

ANGELO It was not the gas. The lighting was bad. And when me and the gracious young lady entered the room – and she turns around – she\u2019s just like Mamm\u00e0<\/em>! The same nose! The same hairdo exactly!

MARTINO Sounds like your mother was a pretty common type. Even in those quarters!

ANGELO (lets the insinuation slide, preferring to ignore it<\/em>) And so woman\u2019s always remained a mystery to me! (Mystified, he shrugs his shoulders.<\/em>) Ah!

MARTINO Let me get this straight: are you telling me that, at your age, you\u2019ve never known a woman?

ANGELO Completely, never!

MARTINO What! With all those churchgoing spinsters around you?

Angelo nods.<\/em>

MARTINO So then, you… practically… never…

ANGELO With somebody else?

MARTINO Of course.

ANGELO A few times. Except that, how can I say… (embarrassed<\/em>) We always was dressed. (Now Martino too is embar\u00adrassed.<\/em>) I meet her one year in May, the month of the Virgin. She was in the choir – before she stop coming. We grab for each other in the little room for the bells. But she was always in a rush. And she never want to let me up to her house.

MARTINO Must not have been any bells up there.

ANGELO But sometimes I think me and her could be happy… in time, maybe. I feel… that nervousness, maybe I lose it… the fear that grabs me when I get near a woman! \u2018Cause you know that, when I get near a woman, the blood – it all gushes to my head. And I sweat. And I start to shake. And is like a hammer banging right here. (Points to his temples<\/em>) Then all I can do is run! Except my legs, is like they slip out from under me! So I try not to look! But still my eyes end up in the same place! And they start to spin, and then my whole head spins out of control! Like you stick your head from a sixth floor window, or on top of a mountain! You think is serious?

MARTINO For a mountain climber, yes.

ANGELO And there\u2019s more!

MARTINO Please, don\u2019t stop now!

ANGELO But then you\u2019ll despise me.

MARTINO So then don\u2019t tell me.

ANGELO But then everything will lump together here (points to his stomach<\/em>).

Martino looks to the sky, then goes to sit on the edge of his bed.<\/em>

ANGELO (having caught up with Martino, he inadvertently kneels down<\/em>). Marty, I sinned I tell you. A big, big, mortal sin!

MARTINO (sighing<\/em>) So I must\u2019ve done it too…

ANGELO That\u2019s why I never leave the house, why I never go back to the church! (He cries and overdramatizes his despair.<\/em>) Marty, I\u2019m a monster, a degenerate, a piece of shit! They oughta put me in jail! Cut my ears! The guillotine! Is what I deserve, the guillotine! Maybe then I find peace!

MARTINO (indicates that this would give him some peace too, then…<\/em>) And what might this hideous deed be?

ANGELO (hoarse<\/em>) I defiled the innocence of childhood!

Martino eyes him for a long time, not knowing whether to believe him or not. But he is a little concerned. Angelo, nodding, reaffirms what he\u2019s just said, then goes off to sit down.<\/em>

ANGELO It happened during a baby girl\u2019s baptism. Father Iginio tell me: \u201cYou prepare everything: the water, the salt, the clean tablecloth.\u201d

MARTINO Were you going to baptize or eat the little thing?

ANGELO (rushes on<\/em>). Basically, get things ready for the ceremony. So I put everything in place, \u2018cause they were rich people, and I figure they slip me something! So in any case, all of a sudden there\u2019s a problem with documents. Seal is missing or something. So Father Iginio goes back to his office. And the parents and the godmother, they all follow the priest. And the little thing, the poor little thing, she is left in my arms!

MARTINO Imagine, abandoned on the day of her baptism!

ANGELO So then, the baby sees that I no look like her father or her mother…

MARTINO Or even the godmother.

ANGELO … and starts crying and crying, and she cries till she all red in the face! So then I calm her down and the little thing, she smile at me. She was so pretty! And she was so happy she wet herself! So that\u2019s when I think: she can not keep this diaper on, she needs to be all clean and dry, or she catch cold, pneumonia even. So I unwrap her. (He covers his face with his hands.<\/em>) And I see her naked! (Pause<\/em>) Don\u2019t think bad of me, Marty! But it was stronger than me! I had to see her! I just had to see how she was made! (Pause<\/em>) I always want to see how woman was made! But I always been too scared, Marty, \u2018cause I always feel something bad will happen to me, just like that, like a trap will snap at me, or the ground will open and swallow me up! But there everything was so nice. \u2018Cause when a woman\u2019s a baby, she cannot hurt you! (He pauses to wipe the sweat from his brow.<\/em>) But then I feel like scum, you know, real scum! \u201cI could be her father, her grand\u00adpapa!\u201d I keep thinking in my head. And then like a voice comes to me and it says: \u201cSee this child? She\u2019s yours! Take her! Run, take her home with you!\u201d And my heart, it beats real fast. And I see like a hundred doves flapping in front of my eyes! So I grab the thing, wrap her up best I can, and I am all ready to go! And then Father Iginio, he comes back with the little creature\u2019s father and mother! \u201cStop that man! He take our baby! Scoundrel! Gypsy! Crib-snatcher!\u201d Ever since, I have not the guts to show my face there! And, I be so upset, I wrapped Father Iginio\u2019s eyeglasses in the dirty diaper!

MARTINO (after a lengthy silence, feigning a tribute to Angelo, he claps his hands slowly, deliberately, then…<\/em>) Bravo! Nice punch line. Well constructed. And all the right breath stops. As la Grande Signora<\/em> would say: \u201cThe dust of every theater of every age, the world over, from Epidaurus to Buenos Aires!\u201d And you were actually convincing. Except that you\u2019re not going to bullshit me! That\u2019s not to say that your fantasy isn\u2019t credible, but it\u2019s what you wanted me to hear. And for someone like you, without even being asked, to string together such a cock-and-bull story, who knows what\u2019s eating away inside!

ANGELO You want me to swear?

MARTINO Angelo, this is just the tip of the iceberg, the part jutting out from the water! Who knows what\u2019s still beneath the surface!

ANGELO (impulsively<\/em>) So you want my blood to burst, eh? But I no give you that satisfaction. No sir! I will not, you hear! I\u2019m not gonna! You think I will croak for you? I show you. Know what? I\u2019m gonna drag you down with me! (Martino looks on in silence.<\/em>) We in the same boat, you know. We both desperate! So we might as well call it a life: us two, together! (He looks at Martino.<\/em>) You wanna make like you don\u2019t care? Eh? (Angelo starts looking around<\/em>). We soon see how much you care! (He walks to one of the two poles.<\/em>) This Gehenna here, I shake it right to the ground, I will! If God Almighty don\u2019t do it, I see to it myself! (He grabs the pole.<\/em>) And you know how? Like Samson and the Philistines. (At this point, he stops.<\/em>)

MARTINO You don\u2019t scare me, Angelo! You don\u2019t scare me! (Again speaking like Angelo<\/em>) I give you a hand even!

Martino goes to the other pole, ready to pull at it. The two men study each other at length, as if in a duel.<\/em>

ANGELO No, for you is a liberation! No way! You think you have no sin, that your conscience is squeaky clean, that you have nothing to repent? So you make fun of me for all the nails stuck in my brain? I give you a nail right in the middle of yours! (He goes to the window.<\/em>) I am jumping out!

He opens the window and is greeted by a relentless yowling of cats.<\/em>

MARTINO (normal speech<\/em>) Shut that, will you? It\u2019ll get cold in here.

ANGELO I\u2019m jumping out, I tell you! I\u2019m jumping out! \u2018Cause you don\u2019t believe me!

MARTINO So jump then! Jump away! Tell me: will you be jumping head first, or coffin style? And remember that once you jump, that\u2019s where you\u2019ll stay – with the cats. Because I\u2019m not coming to pick you up! Not like this, I\u2019m not com\u00ading! (He pauses.<\/em>) The street\u2019s one big ditch, my shoes\u2019ll get dusty, and my pants\u2019ll get all mucky!

ANGELO I\u2019m jumping all the same! Is on your conscience I throw myself, Marty!

MARTINO Well, let me move my conscience out of the way. (Again speaking like Angelo<\/em>) And you can fall flat on your face.

ANGELO Is what you wanted, Marty!

At that very moment another of the rods wedged into the wall to assess seismic activity crashes with a thud. There follows an exceptionally long, tension-filled silence.<\/em>

ANGELO (his normal voice again<\/em>). The crack!

MARTINO (normal voice<\/em>). The crack!

Both men leave their places and converge at the point where the wall is crumbling. There they stop and, as if frozen, fix their eyes on the wall. Like robots they then return to the center of the room and sit down at the table.<\/em>

ANGELO You thinking about what I said before?

MARTINO What is it you said? I forget.

ANGELO What do you mean you forget? About the baptism! How I looked to see how the baby was made.

MARTINO Stop hounding yourself. It\u2019s no big deal. Something similar even happened to me.

ANGELO (extremely interested<\/em>) Really?

MARTINO Except the babe was thirty-two and instead of a baptism it was a wedding.

ANGELO You are a cynic! You got no respect for nothing! I be a sinner maybe, but you, your sins are the worst! Why you no respect my torment? Why we even live together? You and me, we are so different… What keeps us together anyway?

MARTINO The ancients used to say: \u201cNeither with you nor without you can I live!\u201d For you and me, that\u2019s probably going too far. Let\u2019s just say, what keeps us together is a feeling… of mutual repugnance. That\u2019s it: mutual repugnance. That\u2019s a feeling too.

ANGELO One that takes years off my life! What you really want is to bury me. You wanna watch me die a painful death!

MARTINO (almost abstractly<\/em>) Ecco<\/em>… That\u2019s perhaps the purpose of our living together. A dream… a vision… a word. Whether you die now or later, easily or painfully, may well depend on me.

Blackout<\/em> ACT II

Scene 1.<\/strong>

Same as in Act 1. The first exchanges are uttered in the dark.<\/em>

MARTINO Couldn\u2019t you have waited till tomorrow morning? Was it so urgent? Would it have killed you not to do it tonight?

ANGELO Yes, it would.

MARTINO But in the middle of the room of all places? Couldn\u2019t you have done it over there, to the side? Now if someone comes to visit us, just think of the impression we\u2019ll make!

ANGELO If someone comes to visit, we offer him some too! But don\u2019t kid yourself, Marty, nobody will visit us!

MARTINO You old crackpot!

ANGELO Oh, is my house, and don\u2019t you forget it! I do it where I want! And anyhow, this puts us closer. If we want, we can talk easier.

The lights brighten. Angelo has claimed the table in the middle of the room where, covered with flour, he is kneading dough. The flour hangs suspended in the air. Over in Angelo\u2019s corner, the holy pictures are all draped in purple, as is the custom during Holy Week. Martino, stretched out on his bed, now turns to Angelo.<\/em>

MARTINO (singing<\/em>) Ridi pagliaccio<\/em>… (He coughs.<\/em>) This room\u2019s become a construction site! I can\u2019t even tell whether it\u2019s the flour for the pastiera<\/em> or dust from the walls. If the house starts to crumble, we won\u2019t even have the chance to realize it in time. The TV will make the most of it though: \u201cTwo people dead in the collapse of a fruitcake!\u201d

ANGELO You see, is always you! Messing things up! For a while I forget everything! Has been a half-hour since I thought about it!

MARTINO Oh right! For you, even some silly trinket does it – something to turn in your hands. Reality disappears. No matter how dramatic, it just vanishes – like that! Poof! (Speaking like Angelo<\/em>) A cup of flour, a spoonful of butter, some rose water, a fistful of grains… (normal speech<\/em>) and life is a splendiferous thing! Sometimes I envy you, Angelo. I do, because you haven\u2019t the slightest notion of your own disaster! You just hop on the first baking tray, and you\u2019re off, into childhood, into mindlessness, into myth.

After indulging Martino, Angelo gustily lets loose a big, fat fart.<\/em>

ANGELO Ppprrr!

MARTINO Lout!

ANGELO You really crack me up, Marty, and you don\u2019t know it even, when you act the dickhead professor! (His rage begins to surface.<\/em>) Is grown-up, him! He, he has a notion of disaster, him! Spits on childhood! Hell, you no better than me!? Go out at least! Go ahead, get out of my sight! Nothing! You just lie on that bed like a soggy string bean waiting for the end!

MARTINO The end of the world or the end of the pastiera<\/em>?

ANGELO The end that comes to you and your kind! You forget already is Holy Week, and today is Good Friday?

MARTINO How could I ever forget? (He points to the covered holy pictures.<\/em>) You\u2019ve laid everything out, it\u2019s like a holy tomb in here! So what?

ANGELO So the pastiera<\/em>, it\u2019s gotta get done! Is devotional like.

MARTINO \u201cIt\u2019s gotta… it\u2019s gotta…\u201d The very the burden of tradition! Slavery, that\u2019s what it is! Ball and chains! The Baby\u00adlonian captivity! Angelo, try to understand! It could<\/em> get done. It doesn\u2019t gotta<\/em> get done. Or by chance did the police come by with a warrant: \u201cYou, Angelo, son of Pasquale and Con\u00adcetta Whatchamacallit, in the name of the Italian people, you gotta<\/em> prepare the pastiera<\/em>!\u201d

ANGELO Drop dead! No sir, the police, they were not here, so relax! You really obsessed with those police!

MARTINO So now he goes and gets pissed! (To Angelo<\/em>) You understand that I\u2019m doing this for you, don\u2019t you? For your own good? To deliver you from slavery? From your shackles?

ANGELO But you eat my slavery, no? Stuff your face with my shackles! Last year, you even got up in the middle of the night and gobbled up my portion.

MARTINO Aren\u2019t we reproachful this evening! More so than usual! I admit, I like your pastiera<\/em>, but it\u2019s got nothing to do with Easter. It\u2019s a question of palate, the calendar is irrelevant. And you know what? Come Christmas, I will go out and order not one but two pastieras<\/em>! Two, Angelo! It\u2019ll give me a chance to get some air.

ANGELO You a pagan, Marty, a real pagano<\/em>! Martino Pagano! Christmas is for struffoli<\/em>, not for pastiera<\/em>! You wanna flip-flop the two?

MARTINO No. Nossir. Christmas is one thing and Easter\u2019s another. But what does either have to do with pastries? So you say I\u2019m the pagan, eh? According to you, if at Christmas in\u00adstead of struffoli<\/em> you make pastiera<\/em>, the good Lord will smell the pastiera<\/em>… (speaking like Angelo<\/em>) get all mixed up… (normal speech<\/em>) and instead of the stable… (speaking like Angelo<\/em>) look for the cross, eh?

ANGELO Padre, Figlio e Spirito Santo<\/em>! Aaamen! These distinctions, they are for humans, and not for God! God, He knows how is supposed to behave, men no!

MARTINO (normal speech<\/em>) Men like you that can\u2019t survive without order, without injunctions from on high, without dis\u00adcipline, without that slayer of the imagination known as dogma! Angelo, this is what happens to those who\u2019ve forsaken the imagination. Open your eyes! I bet that if you were a sculptor, you\u2019d put Garibaldi on a horse and have Paganini hold a violin.

ANGELO (hesitating<\/em>) Why, is no good?

MARTINO (snobbishly<\/em>) Ecco<\/em>! You\u2019ve got no imagination! Even as a sculptor, you\u2019re dull, pedestrian and predictable.

ANGELO Then why, in the middle of all the squares in the world, the most famous sculptors, they got monuments of Garibaldi and Paganini just like I said? Huh? Why?

MARTINO Because, like you, they have no imagination.

ANGELO I tell you why! \u2018Cause people\u2019s used to it that way. People with their heads screwed on right! Who got no reason to change things!

MARTINO You see? You\u2019re not free. You and all those people with their heads screwed on right! I should be a sculptor, I tell you! Then Garibaldi would have a violin and Paganini I\u2019d plop on a horse! And see if I don\u2019t do it!

ANGELO (spitefully<\/em>) And is not possible!

MARTINO (matching Angelo\u2019s tone of voice<\/em>) And why not?

ANGELO (losing his composure<\/em>) Why not? \u2018Cause the people they freak out! Nothing make sense! They break appoint\u00adments! They unarrange marriages. Brothers are at each other\u2019s throats! \u201cMe, I went to Paganini!\u201d \u201cNo, you went to Gari\u00adbaldi!\u201d The buses, they stop. The traffic is bottled! The whole city is up to its neck! And then you have revolution! Why you not understand?!

MARTINO (increasingly provocative<\/em>). If it\u2019s just a matter of a few blockheads lacking in imagination, then there\u2019s no problem. At the base of the monument you write: \u201cPaganini on Gari\u00adbaldi\u2019s horse,\u201d and \u201cGaribaldi with Paganini\u2019s violin!\u201d

ANGELO (losing all control<\/em>) Go fuck yourself, you, the horse, the violin, Garibaldi and Paganini! (Pause<\/em>) But then you wanna make me go crazy! Is better I don\u2019t answer you! (He starts to sing.<\/em>) \u201cWhen the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, and down will come baby, cradle and all!\u201d

MARTINO Ecco<\/em>! The only fantasy he can come up with: a sordid lullaby where innocent babies and cradles come crashing down from treetops to the sound of ninna nanna<\/em>! The most abominable atrocity set to music! What an evil imagination, Angelo. But I know why you\u2019re so evil. Because you\u2019re a man of faith. But your faith knows no joy!

ANGELO You got something to say about my faith: Say it, come on! Spit out a little more poison from your mouth.

MARTINO There is no joy in your faith, Angelo! Nor in your sense of duty.

ANGELO You, how do you know?

MARTINO I know, Angelo, I know. I know because I was in the same boat. At least until a certain age. I can still see those green-faced saints staring down at me accusingly, stripping me of my childhood. I tried to enjoy an impure thought now and then, but there they were, saying: \u201cHow dare you! Here I am bleeding from my mouth, bleeding from my side, bleeding from my hands! Here I am, a martyr! Upon whom life never smiled! And you, what did you want to do with that little hand of yours?\u201d Not to mention how I obsessed over Holy Communion! \u201cBeware! for the host must not touch one\u2019s teeth! lest we cause our Lord Jesus great suffering!\u201d And so, during what should be a moment of mys\u00adti\u00adcal exaltation, of ecstatic pleasure, I was busy prepping my mouth with saliva, terrified at the prospect of what awaited me, thinking: \u201cIs it enough?\u201d And, on cue, the devil would whip his tail into action, and the host would never go down, and I\u2019d be forced to swallow three, four, even ten times, until I started coughing! Then, when it was all over, when every\u00adthing should be calm and peaceful, I would get obsessed, and I\u2019d torture my brain with thoughts like: \u201cI took a bite out of Jesus Christ! Who knows where I got Him!\u201d Please, don\u2019t even make me think about it. That\u2019s why, after a while, I never took communion again.

ANGELO You not even know how to take communion!

MARTINO Go on, laugh! But these things, they leave their mark! And even when you decide, by an act of will, to rid your\u00adself of them once and for all, still they stay with you, and for a long time! Imagine this: I was about thirty-three when I started not to feel well. I felt all anxious, like something was oppressing me! A sense of ill-being – I couldn\u2019t figure it out. Then one day, out of the blue, I understood. It seems like yes\u00adterday. We were putting on a show in Savona. An actor on stage said: \u201cThirty-three, the age of Christ when he died!\u201d It was like an illumination! I was living longer than Jesus Christ! And I felt guilty, Angelo! When it finally hit me, I burst out laughing. But in the meantime I had been sick an entire year!

ANGELO Tut, tut! Thank the Lord they chucked the Inquisi\u00adtion, Marty, or right now they would already have dragged you in the middle of a piazza and lit you up like a Roman candle! Those were the days! If was now, I be sitting by the stake, first row, just like here! Taking in the show, getting myself all roasty-toasty! Martino the sinner, kindling for the winter!

MARTINO I know, I know. And if someone kicked you out, I even know how you\u2019d answer: \u201cHow dare you! I\u2019m entitled to a complimentary ticket! I\u2019m a friend of the Roman candle!\u201d Get out of here, you bastard! (He pauses.<\/em>) Angelo, just imagine! Make an effort! One Easter, just one, without your pastiera<\/em>! Don\u2019t make it! You\u2019re finished with slavery! You\u2019re a free man, Angelo! Breathe! Isn\u2019t it marvelous? (Angelo looks at him perplexed<\/em>.) Listen to me: it\u2019s now or never. Grab everything and throw it all out the window!

All Angelo can do to answer is to begin kneading the dough furiously, singing all the while.<\/em>

ANGELO \u201cWhen the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, and down will come baby, cradle and all!\u201d

MARTINO (approaching Angelo<\/em>) Bravo! Bravo!<\/em> What I like most is your sense of purpose. You knead with an air of divine majesty, of supreme wisdom, of primal love! Of course, that\u2019s your way of partaking in the mystery of creation! \u201cAnd God took a fistful of earth, and breathed into it!\u201d Angelo, this pastiera<\/em>, we should name it \u201cAdam\u201d!

Angelo looks at Martino hatefully.<\/em>

MARTINO (returning to his bed<\/em>) And with the dough that\u2019s left over, we\u2019ll make Eve!

Angelo quickly grabs a piece of dough and hurls it at Martino, who barely manages to avoid being hit.<\/em>

ANGELO I get you sooner or later!

Martino removes the traces of dough and flour from the wall and from the bed, then gets up and heads toward Angelo. Angelo watches Martino and starts singing through clenched teeth.<\/em>

ANGELO \u201cWhen the bough breaks, the cradle will fall…\u201d

MARTINO It\u2019s for you I\u2019m saying it too, you know! You\u2019ll ruin your hands! (He takes one of Angelo\u2019s hands, but with a sense of mild disgust.<\/em>) Look! Look!

Angelo lets him continue.<\/em>

MARTINO (cruelly<\/em>) You don\u2019t take enough care of yourself. Have you seen yourself lately? Come on, come look in the mirror.

He leads him to a small mirror hanging on the wall. Angelo lets himself be led like a robot. He seems helpless.<\/em>

MARTINO Look at yourself! Just look at yourself! Bags under your eyes, apron smeared and crusty, flour in your hair. You look like some decrepit old kitchen hand! And you look ten years older than you are! Your church lady, if she could see you now, she\u2019d be crossing herself at the sight of you! Listen, do me a favor: if the professor comes, get out of here! Don\u2019t show your face! It\u2019s better that way!

ANGELO (gloomily, breaking free<\/em>) Leave me alone, or I spit in your face! (He returns to the table and wearily starts kneading. Perturbed, he speaks through clenched teeth.<\/em>) Damn you! And me too! \u201cTen years older! Decrepit old kitchen hand!\u201d Is this the thanks I get? All my life I never complain! But still it throws me lemons! If I knew I end up this way, then I…

MARTINO Listen, Angelo, we\u2019ve all got our regrets. You think I don\u2019t regret things? You should be inside my head when I start mulling over my life, what it was and what it could have been! Ah, if only la Grande Signora<\/em> hadn\u2019t died! Or at least not so soon! You think I\u2019d be binding books and squabbling over desserts? Who knows what heights awaited me! Instead, look how low I\u2019ve fallen.

ANGELO (offended<\/em>) Oh really? So what can you do! Resign yourself, Marty! Life, it is full of ups and downs. Is one big sizamississity!

MARTINO Stop teasing, Angelo. Anyway, what happened happened. But for the record, I had a good future! I was on the right track! And there was no stopping me either!

ANGELO (back to his role as a provocateur<\/em>). A future? But make me understand, what future can have one who is all crunched up in a coffin, in a box that stands on end under a stage, run\u00adning a finger across a script? Go on, don\u2019t make me laugh! Why I even listen to this!

MARTINO Angelo, you are extremely ignorant, you know? But what can you expect from a layman! (He pauses, then begins to explain.<\/em>) Angelo, the prompter – how many times do I have to tell you – is like a conductor! And the actors, basically, are like the orchestra! Better yet, they are the instruments! All they need to do is open their mouths! The prompter blows into them, and they play! Is it clear now, finally? Prompter! In French: souffleur<\/em>! Me, I had such great breath control I could blow even Aida<\/em>. And la Grande Signora<\/em>, she knew it! That\u2019s why every year, when the company regrouped, she wanted me, and only me.

ANGELO And what was she like, this Grande Signora<\/em>? Was she beautiful?

He goes to sit in front of Martino, as if in a theater.<\/em>

MARTINO (radiantly<\/em>) Words cannot describe her!

ANGELO Was she stacked? Was she stacked?

MARTINO Angelo, tell me the truth, you\u2019re dying to know if I…

ANGELO I did not ask you anything!

MARTINO You\u2019ve even set yourself up in the front row! Start clapping and maybe the curtain will go up! (He pauses.<\/em>) Angelo, a gentleman does not feed the curiosity of the com\u00admon herd with the details of his personal life, especially when a lady\u2019s honor is at stake!

Angelo hesitates, looks around, then asks explicitly.<\/em>

ANGELO Nice and simple, you bone her, yes or no?

MARTINO I knew it! You can spoil just about anything! But there are some things you want to do, some things you want to touch with those oily, greasy, lardy hands of yours, those hands smeared with the fat of vulgarity, that refuse to be soiled! They continue to shine! To sparkle and dazzle! And one of them is the memory, my memory, of la Grande Signora<\/em>! I can still hear her voice in my ears. Voice? What am I saying? It was music, magical music from another world.

ANGELO From the land of the dead!

MARTINO (annoyed<\/em>) Ecco<\/em>! You want to play the fool? I won\u2019t tell you a single thing! Curtain!

Martino mimes the curtain being dropped.<\/em>

ANGELO No, please, I\u2019m sorry. I won\u2019t interrupt no more. Go on, I like to listen.

MARTINO If only you knew! She didn\u2019t call me Martino, no. She called me mon petit souffleur<\/em>! (By-play of Angelo pretending to look for a cat<\/em>.) \u201cMon petit souffleur<\/em>, where is he?\u201d \u201cCherchez mon petit souffleur<\/em>!\u201d \u201cHave him come to me.\u201d (He pauses.<\/em>) Then one night, before the show, I stopped by her dressing room as usual, to see if she had any instructions for me – a scene to cut, maybe, or a cut to work back in. I knocked. But she didn\u2019t answer! I walked in and there she was, sitting in front of the mirror, still without her make-up, looking dazed. Next to her, almost empty, was a bottle of cognac! She was drunk as a skunk. And she told me, between laughter and tears, that her lover had left her! A poet! A surrealist! He\u2019d written her a letter that was totally baffling, except for the ending: \u201cI\u2019m returning to Paris! Don\u2019t look for me! Adieu<\/em>!\u201d (He pauses.<\/em>) \u201cWhat\u2019s the house like?\u201d she murmured. I told her it was standing room only as usual. \u201cGood, tell the manager to send everyone home. I\u2019m not going on tonight!\u201d I turned white as a sheet. It was a special performance: ambassadors from no less than three foreign countries were in the audience! \u201cI can\u2019t remember a single line! I just can\u2019t! I have to protect my reputation!\u201d she said. \u201cSo do I!\u201d I ex\u00adclaimed, mustering every ounce of courage I had. \u201cMy dear Signora<\/em>, you will say your lines! From beginning to end. You will recite every word! Leave it to me! All you need to do is keep your eyes on me the entire time!\u201d That night I surpassed myself! With voice, gesture, facial expressions, I kept her from missing a single line! What an enormous success! At the cur\u00adtain call, la Grande Signora<\/em>\u2019s face was beaming! And I had the distinct impression that one of those radiant smiles was meant for me alone! When the ritual of receiving the dignitaries in her dressing room was over – ambassadors were everywhere – she went back on stage, thanked everyone in the company, and gave instructions for the next day\u2019s performance. Then, while everyone was filing out, I heard my name called: \u201cMon petit souffleur<\/em>!\u201d I stopped. \u201cWait!\u201d she said. She even dismissed the stage door man: \u201cLeave us the keys, we\u2019ll close up.\u201d He left and we were alone. I stood looking at her… puzzled… \u201cTurn on all the lights!\u201d I turned them on. \u201cThe house lights as well!\u201d I turned them on too. The theater glittered like one huge crystal! Then she sat me on the edge of the prompter\u2019s box, down front, center stage. \u201cStay there and don\u2019t move!\u201d The Signora<\/em> walked to the stairs that led to the box over\u00adlooking the stage. I still didn\u2019t understand. When she re\u00adappeared, she had taken off her gloves! For a few moments she stared at me, which felt like an eternity. Then she dis\u00adappeared again! When she reappeared in the next box over, box number two, her hat was off and her long hair was down, draping her shoulders! In box three she\u2019d taken off her jacket! In four, her shoulders were completely bare! Then came five… and six… and seven… and eight… until she reached the royal box. There, beneath the huge decorative crown, fully lit!, she appeared to me like Venus stepping forth from the foam of the sea! Then, for the first time, she called me by my true name! \u201cMartino,\u201d she said! I knew then that I could go to her. That I was to go to her. And there, in the royal box, I loved her. She loved me. We loved one another!

Vividly impressed, Angelo remains silent.<\/em>

Afterwards, I was careful never even to hint at what happened. And she really appreciated that. Much as she\u2019d appreciated the work I\u2019d done for that memorable performance! By now I had become for her the prompter par excellence. \u201cMon petit souf\u00adfleur,\u201d<\/em> she\u2019d say to me, \u201cjust give me time! I\u2019ll have your name entered in the Theatrical Encyclopedia! Under \u2018prompt\u00ader, in French, souffleur<\/em>!\u2019\u201d (He pauses.<\/em>) And that, Angelo, is all!

ANGELO (beginning to stir from his amazement<\/em>) I like it, Marty, when you tell me these stories! On the other hand, you make me want to smack you!

MARTINO Because I want to help you grow up.

ANGELO Because you too different from me. Me and you are like dogs and cats.

MARTINO You\u2019re wrong. I\u2019m not as different from you as you think. It\u2019s just that I\u2019ve understood some things that you\u2019ve yet to understand, that you refuse to understand. You\u2019re just like I was up until… well, up until I was fifteen. Like I could still be, if I\u2019m not careful. If I stop reasoning things through. That\u2019s basically the situation. But if you\u2019d listen to me…

ANGELO (returning to himself<\/em>) I already told you, Marty! You gonna end up a heretic, burned at the stake! Don\u2019t you tempt me! Get back, Satan! Vade retro<\/em>!

MARTINO (eyeing Angelo at length<\/em>) OK, OK. I\u2019ll step back! You\u2019ll never understand anyway. (He goes back to his book\u00adbinding.<\/em>) At least let\u2019s get some pages straight. Page nineteen hundred seventy-five… seventy-six… seventy-seven… seventy-eight… eighty-one… eighty-two? What happened to page nineteen hundred seventy-nine – eighty? Oh, Padreterno<\/em>! They were all here together!

He searches.<\/em>

ANGELO What you lose?

MARTINO Page one thousand nine hundred eighty! (Speak\u00ading like Angelo<\/em>) If he hears about it, the professor! Mamma mia<\/em>! (normal speech<\/em>) The volume must now surely be depreci\u00adated. Of course it is! (Reading<\/em>) You get to the bottom of page nineteen hundred seventy-eight… (He reads.<\/em>) \u201cSimony – from the Latin simonia<\/em>, after Simon Magus: sinful com\u00admerce; the buying or…\u201d and you never know how it ends!

ANGELO (continuing where Martino left off<\/em>) \u201c… selling of a church office or ecclesiastical preferment; also, the cor\u00adresponding sin.\u201d (He dusts off some flour from the table.<\/em>) \u201cFalsehoods, theft and simony\u201d – Dante, Inferno, Canto XI, verse 59.

MARTINO (amazed<\/em>) Where did you learn that?

Angelo waits, hesitates before showing the flour-covered page.<\/em>

ANGELO I read it right here.

Martino almost faints.<\/em>

MARTINO You reckless, irresponsible madman! You\u2019ll be my downfall! You\u2019re more of a danger than this house ever was! (speaking like Angelo<\/em>) And now what I supposed to do? Change page nineteen-hundred eighty with your mother\u2019s fruitcake?

ANGELO (conciliatory<\/em>) You need the page like it was before? Don\u2019t worry, I take care of it. I wash and iron it.

MARTINO (still speaking like Angelo<\/em>). Since when a sheet of paper is a shirt? Give me that!

ANGELO I told you I take care of it. My mistake, I pay!

MARTINO (normal speech<\/em>) Drop it, will you! You\u2019ll pay! Don\u2019t make me laugh! Your need for expiation doesn\u2019t convince me one bit! It\u2019s that faith thing again. Which you keep harping on so you can feel freer to do wrong! (Hinting<\/em>) If you haven\u2019t already!

ANGELO (giving Martino a mean look<\/em>) What you trying to say?

MARTINO (without batting an eye<\/em>) Who said anything?

ANGELO You did! And I heard you! But your little zingers, they don\u2019t scare me, \u2018cause me, I got no secrets. And I ain\u2019t done no wrong! Understand?

MARTINO Is that so? I guess I\u2019ll just go stretch out on your bed then.

ANGELO Why mine? You got your own.

MARTINO I do, but it\u2019s dirty from the pastiera<\/em>.

ANGELO (decisively<\/em>). Some people, they don\u2019t like their noses touched. Me, I don\u2019t want nobody touching my bed!

Martino makes his way towards Angelo\u2019s bed.<\/em>

ANGELO (brandishing the rolling pin<\/em>) You get near that bed and I crack your skull! And that evens the score!

MARTINO (surprised<\/em>) What\u2019s that? Evens the score? What score? You\u2019ll have to explain. I don\u2019t understand.

ANGELO You understand all right, let\u2019s not waste time!

MARTINO But we are wasting time! Did I ever threaten you with a stick?

ANGELO You don\u2019t stop at threats, and you know that!

MARTINO Oh mamma mia<\/em>! You mean I actually cracked your head open?

ANGELO (pointedly<\/em>) Not mine, but…

MARTINO Whose then? Talk!

ANGELO Someone from your deep dark past! Do not deny it, Martino, is useless! I got a letter in the mail! A \u2018nonymous letter!

MARTINO Really?

ANGELO (goes to his corner and returns with a sheet of paper<\/em>). Precisably, a \u2018nonymous letter, all signed, sealed and delivered! Lookie here! with stamps stuck in all the right places! (He reads.<\/em>) \u201cEsteemed Angelo!\u201d You hear that! Esteemed<\/em> Angelo! \u201cI have always regarded you to be a rightful and good-hearted person!\u201d You hear? When d\u2019you ever get a letter like that! But listen to the next: \u201cindustrious, and capable of noble sac\u00adrifices in the name of true friendship. But it is precisably…\u201d

MARTINO (surprised<\/em>) Precisably<\/em>?

ANGELO (with confidence<\/em>) That\u2019s right, precisably! Just listen: \u201c… because of your reputation for honesty, that I am amazed at your cohabitation with the ig-no-mi-ni-ous Martino!\u201d

MARTINO Ignominious? I see. Standard language for anonymous letters.

ANGELO (all revved up<\/em>) And is not all! Just listen! \u201cAt this point, if you, esteemed Angelo, are cohabiting with the ig\u00adnominious Martino, it means that you are ignorant of omnia<\/em>!\u201d

MARTINO Omnia<\/em>? But that\u2019s Latin!

ANGELO (simply<\/em>) Could be… so… \u201c… ignorant of omnia<\/em>. And in truth, in truth it is said that the right hand ought not to know what the left hand does. But lest the latter be so wretched, perhaps you should shed some light. And that is why I am writing to you, as a friend and… Fiat lux<\/em>! Consider spying on your house mate regarding what he has done with his spouse. Has he locked her in a suitcase? Or has he rented her an efficiency at the bottom of the sea! Or has he maybe found her a \u201cpied-\u00e0-terre\u201d in a sub-sub-sub-basement? What\u00adever the case, we are dealing with a homo non dignus<\/em>, of co\u00adhabitating sub unico tecto vobiscum. Et cum spirito vostro<\/em>! etc. etc.

MARTINO Still more Latin.

ANGELO (hastily<\/em>) \u201cYou have now been advised… Fate vobis<\/em>! Amen!\u201d Signed: \u201cA \u2018nonymous Neapolitan!\u201d So what d\u2019you say? What d\u2019you say?

MARTINO (eyeing Angelo<\/em>) Angelo, would you permit me to take a peek?

ANGELO Read it yourself! You think I\u2019m trying to bamboozle you?

Martino takes the sheet of paper.<\/em>

MARTINO \u201c… precisably… in truth… lest the latter be so wretched… fate vobis.<\/em>\u201d My compliments! (He looks at Angelo.<\/em>) An anonymous letter spiced with all the sacraments! Some piece of work!

Angelo seems satisfied, almost proud of himself.<\/em>

MARTINO (calmly<\/em>) Not to mention that the \u2018nonymous informant is also rather cultured. Bravo<\/em>, Angelo! You found yourself a rat that\u2019s educated, an intellectual – who can write Latin no less! And then, what patience! Gluing so many little pieces of paper together takes a lot of time! I, for one, know some\u00adthing about glue. Only, like all men of culture, this per\u00adson is somewhat distracted! Yes, because he didn\u2019t realize that in the little snippet here… (He points to the paper.<\/em>) He left in a note that\u2019s – how can I put it? – off key, that throws off his entire score: \u201cFrom the letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians\u201d!

ANGELO (perturbed<\/em>) Is not possible!

MARTINO Read it yourself! You think I\u2019m trying to bamboozle you? (He shows the letter.<\/em>) So it\u2019s one of two possibilities: either this letter\u2019s meant for the Corinthians, but I don\u2019t see what that\u2019s got to do with you, you\u2019re not a Corinthian, are you?

ANGELO (wasting no time to reply<\/em>) Me? No! how could I \u2018av come this far from Corinthia?

MARTINO In point of fact, you couldn\u2019t. Which only leaves the other possibility: there\u2019s no way around it, Angelo, this masterpiece is yours!

ANGELO Mine?

MARTINO Yes, yours, yours! And since you\u2019re a shithead, you left signs of shit everywhere in plain view! It\u2019s almost like you signed it!

ANGELO (hamming it up<\/em>) Oh sure! Like I had time to waste!

MARTINO Angelo, why deny the evidence? You\u2019d used up the newspaper and needed other words, so you resorted to the vocabulary of Holy Mother Church! And cut out some of your favorite passages! I have seen \u201c\u2018nonymous\u201d letters before, but never one that was signed like this! Here, take your little Easter letter!

ANGELO (trying to regain the advantage<\/em>) But I saw you when I was reading! Your face, it turned real red, Martino, and you were shaking all over!

MARTINO Bravo! Hamlet<\/em>, act 3, scene 2. \u201cWhile the players recite, not for a second does the Danish prince lose sight of the tyrant!\u201d

ANGELO (in a passion<\/em>) I don\u2019t know no recitals! What I know is you kill her! Yes, yes! You kill her! You kill your wife!

MARTINO You poor madman!

ANGELO You a good faker, Marty! So then, that dress for woman, in your suitcase, is for what?

MARTINO (outraged<\/em>) You rummaged through that too!

ANGELO You kill her! Yes, you kill her! Is why you on the run! Why you hide in this place! You kill her and chop her into little pieces. And who knows where you stash her! But you keep the dress, or else they recognize it, and put you in jail!

MARTINO You\u2019ve gone mad, Angelo! Poor fool, you\u2019re delirious! You\u2019ve lost your marbles!

ANGELO (beside himself, but still putting on a show<\/em>) You kill her! And I don\u2019t wanna share the same roof with no pimping mur\u00adderer assassin! Get outta here!

MARTINO That much you can count on! I\u2019m leaving all right! Sooner or later. Except it won\u2019t be for you kicking me out! (He pauses.<\/em>) So I killed my wife? That woman oozes health from every pore! From every pore, Angelo! That\u2019s right! You\u2019d think she\u2019d share some of it with me. But that\u2019s quite another matter.

ANGELO Dare you say I make it up, the dress in the suitcase?

MARTINO You\u2019re just dying of curiosity, eh? You want to determine what the dress is doing in my suitcase. So must the reason be murder? If you had asked me outright, I would have been spared a life sentence. (He proceeds with patience.<\/em>) The dress was a gift I got her years ago in Rome. And when I left the house I took it to remember her by. Nowadays, I cling to it because – how can I say it? – it might still serve as a peace offering, or an excuse to see her. Sure, I know it\u2019s foolish but I start thinking that, just like I left that morning, who knows, maybe one day I\u2019ll wake up and feel that every\u00adthing\u2019s easy, even leaving this place, even going home. (He pauses.<\/em>) But not without first thanking you for your generous hospitality and boundless trust!

ANGELO (unmoved<\/em>) That dress, it has a bloodstain on the front. (He points to his chest.<\/em>) Right here!

MARTINO That too can be explained, Your Honor. Like I said a minute ago, it was a gift from way back. One night we went out for a stroll and she wore it and she dropped some ice cream, strawberry ice cream. (He points to his chest.<\/em>) Like a bullet mark, right here.

ANGELO (prickly<\/em>) You don\u2019t blackmail people for a strawberry ice cream!

MARTINO Who ever blackmailed her?

ANGELO Don\u2019t you pretend nothing! You the one being blackmailed! And you even pay up, every month! And for you to pay up, it means you a hangdog and is lying heavy on your heart! Marty, in your things I find a receipt and a money order! A money order addressed to Post Office Box one thousand nine hundred eighty.

MARTINO You imbecile! That\u2019s the number of the page you covered with pastiera<\/em>!

ANGELO OK, so was maybe another number, but I read it with these eyes, so you better not deny it!

MARTINO More snooping from the infernal bloodhound! I\u2019m tired of this! You know what you can do? Arrest me and be done with it! I only ask that we postpone everything till to\u00admorrow morning, because I am about to collapse.

ANGELO You figured you more smart than me, right? Well, you figured wrong, Marty! Church life teaches you lots, most of all to deal with the devil!

MARTINO You want to play inquisition? Fine! That post office box belongs to my wife. That\u2019s right, she regularly sends me the money she owes, and I regularly send it back, with the help of the grocery boy, who gets me the money orders. Or did get them until he stopped coming. No, don\u2019t even ask why I behave this way! I don\u2019t know myself! Maybe because I heard the other guy had left and she was having a rough time. Or maybe it\u2019s a way of staying in touch, of not losing contact, while waiting to find a different kind of courage. Maybe. All I know is that right now our relationship is via money order.

ANGELO You love her still!

MARTINO Don\u2019t go dredging up any big words! It wouldn\u2019t be appropriate.

ANGELO But when you came here to live, you said was all over!

MARTINO And that\u2019s the truth. But there\u2019s nothing to stop something new from starting. Even with the same person. There\u2019s more to life than love. There\u2019s caring, solidarity, emotional stability. Which you can even get in a stable – as long as it\u2019s more stable than this one.

He scans the room.<\/em>

ANGELO (after pausing, speaks decisively<\/em>) If you hurry, you will find her still awake.

MARTINO (staring at him<\/em>) You\u2019ve got to be kidding!

ANGELO G\u2019on, g\u2019on! I give you a hand even.

Angelo starts to collect Martino\u2019s things.<\/em>

MARTINO You are one hopeless madman!

ANGELO I can never stand agonized goodbyes. I could never accompany nobody to the station! If you gotta leave, pack your bags and get out quick, quick! \u201cAll aboard!\u201d The whistle of the station master and the train, it leaves! Buona fortuna<\/em>!

MARTINO (continuing his previous thought<\/em>) Or maybe you\u2019re not mad after all. You want to send me away, don\u2019t you!

ANGELO (ever the evangelist<\/em>) \u201cIf your left eye offend you, pluck it out post haste!\u201d Gospel according to St. Matthew! \u201cIf your housemate\u2019s a hangdog, thou must not cohabitate!\u201d Gospel ac\u00adcording to St. Luke.

MARTINO Bravo! Now you\u2019re falsifying the gospels too! And that proves me right. You want to send me away! I don\u2019t know why, but I can feel you want to send me way. You\u2019ve been behaving strangely for several days now! Please, don\u2019t get me wrong, you\u2019ve always been a shithead. But now there\u2019s something different.

ANGELO My feelings, they are offended! That seems strange to you?

MARTINO Leave your offended feelings out of it! I don\u2019t know what to think, but I have the distinct impression there\u2019s something suspicious connecting you, your mattress and the goldfish. Like some sordid trinity that…

ANGELO (resentfully<\/em>) Leave the Trinity out of it! Don\u2019t touch it!

MARTINO Not to mention the many times I\u2019ve come from the kitchen, or walked out of the bathroom, or even just turned around all of a sudden, and caught you – not just rummaging through my things, which would have been more normal, mind you, considering your meddlesome nature and the mys\u00adteries of your sextonship – no, I\u2019ve seen you at the window, waving your arms, gesticulating, making all kinds of strange signals!

ANGELO (promptly<\/em>) Was praying! Was making the sign of the cross! For the salvation of your soul!

MARTINO Think of your own instead. And let me finish! You were making strange signals, exactly like a station master. But it wasn\u2019t to send off a train. No! It looked to me like this was one you wanted to stop! As if you were saying: \u201cYou can\u2019t enter the station until this other train here has left!\u201d And I\u2019m sure it was me you were referring to!

ANGELO (hysterically<\/em>) Ecco<\/em>! Is the thanks I get, is my reward after all these years of sacrifice! After I served you like a priest at the altar! Was right the poet when he said: \u201cGratitude is a grand ingrate!\u201d (He pauses<\/em>.) But now you must leave, go on! I really cannot stand you being here! And if you don\u2019t get out, know what I do? I take that suitcase, and throw it out down there!

He makes for Martino\u2019s bed.<\/em>

MARTINO You just try and I\u2019ll throw out all your stuff! (He threatens to do it. Angelo freezes.<\/em>) What\u2019s the matter? Not a fair trade? (Speaking like Angelo<\/em>) Clipped your wings, haven\u2019t I!

Angelo returns to the table, sweating and panting.<\/em>

MARTINO (normal speech<\/em>) There we go! Bravo<\/em>! That\u2019s it! Go back to your pastiera<\/em>, to the fodder for the Easter feast. Symbol of domestic peace!

ANGELO (grabbing the tablecloth by the four corners<\/em>) Peace is something I make with the alley cats!

He goes to the window, opens it. As always, the cats yowl.<\/em>

ANGELO Here, eat! Stuff yourselves!

He lets everything drop. The cat\u2019s yowling seems to lessen.<\/em>

MARTINO (startled<\/em>) The page from the dictionary!

ANGELO (to the cats<\/em>) Eat that too! Eat and learn!

MARTINO Pazzo<\/em>! Madman! They ought to lock you up. And throw away the key!

ANGELO (shutting the window<\/em>) There! Done! Ite missa est<\/em>!

MARTINO (rattled<\/em>) I can hear the professor now! I know just what he\u2019ll say: \u201cI gave you X number of pages, and if you expect to be paid I want every single one of them bound. Not one page less.\u201d And he\u2019s right! So now what am I going to tell him? If I could at least remember all the words, maybe I could write out the page by hand. What\u2019s after \u201csimony\u201d? I can\u2019t remember! I can\u2019t remember! Total amnesia! (to Angelo, speaking like Angelo<\/em>) You and that crazy head of yours! (Normal speech<\/em>) So now what do I tell the professor? That page nineteen hundred seventy-nine got eaten by the cats? No, I\u2019d be shamefaced. I\u2019ll tell him you ate it!

ANGELO (calmly<\/em>) If you hurry you\u2019ll still find it.

MARTINO What do you mean?

ANGELO I mean if you hurry you still find it.

MARTINO (surprised<\/em>) You mean go downstairs?

ANGELO (nodding in assent<\/em>) Uh-huh!

MARTINO With the cats?

ANGELO Uh-huh!

MARTINO You threw it, you get it!

ANGELO (spitefully<\/em>) I can live very good without that page. You need it, you get it!

MARTINO You really are such a spiteful child! But this is one I won\u2019t forget!

Martino stands in the middle of the room. He doesn\u2019t know what to do.<\/em>

ANGELO (diabolically<\/em>) They probably already licked up all the ricotta and strips of dough and probably right now they tearing at your page, which is not so tasty, but has the same aroma. When you hungry you hungry!

Martino continues to hesitate. Then, clenching his teeth, he crosses the threshold into the unknown! Left alone, Angelo runs to the door to make sure Martino has gone downstairs. He then returns to his bed and disappears behind a folding screen.

Pause. The stage is empty, except perhaps for the intensified yowling of an occasional cat. Martino returns with the page in hand. Clearly unraveled, he closes the door behind him and slumps into the first chair he sees. He is panting, as if he\u2019d just swum through rapids or escaped his pursuers in a chase.<\/em>

MARTINO (flustered<\/em>) Among the beasts he sends me! (He holds out the page.<\/em>) Fifteen cats on one single page!

Angelo comes out from behind the screen. He is wearing Martino\u2019s wife\u2019s dress, with a foulard wrapped around his head.<\/em>

ANGELO (strutting, as if in a fashion show<\/em>) What d\u2019you say, honey, how do I look in the holy remains?

MARTINO (looking up, quivers with rage<\/em>) You bastard!

ANGELO (pushing his imitation of the woman<\/em>) Honey, you buy me an ice cream? I got a desire for strawberry!

MARTINO You take that dress off right now!

ANGELO Hey! You getting too fresh! We just met!

MARTINO Take off that dress, I said!

ANGELO If you really cannot resist, you come yourself and take it off me!

MARTINO (barely controlling himself<\/em>) You\u2019re asking for it!

ANGELO What a nasty personality you got, Marty! But, you\u2019re going on tour, no? Don\u2019t forget to wear your horns!

He mimes the cuckold\u2019s horns. Martino lunges at Angelo and tears at the dress.<\/em>

ANGELO (pretending he\u2019s wrestling to free himself<\/em>) What\u2019s the hurry! Who d\u2019you think I am? These dirty games, you play them with sluts from the theater, not with me!

MARTINO You freaking piece of shit faggot!

ANGELO Ahh, your hands are so cold! Cold hands, flaming heart!

Martino has managed to tear off from Angelo the last shred of dress. Grieving, he carries it back to his suitcase.<\/em>

ANGELO (intoning the song dolefully, quietly and passionately<\/em>) \u201cWhen the bough breaks… the cradle will fall…\u201d

MARTINO (after a very long pause<\/em>) You\u2019re going to pay for this! As God is my witness!

ANGELO (trying to re-establish a dialogue<\/em>) But I thought you do not believe in God?

MARTINO (drily<\/em>) It\u2019s you that will pay! You believe in him, you pay! You mark my words!

ANGELO (trying to buy time<\/em>) I wanted to help you. I was doing it for you. To make you not make another mistake. But if you still want to leave, go! The door is open. But listen to me, don\u2019t go back to that woman! Leftovers ain\u2019t worth much, \u2018specially when they already been reheated by another.

MARTINO That\u2019s my fucking business! Get your nose out of it!

ANGELO As you wish.

Angelo gets ready for bed. He pulls downs the sheets, fixes his pillows. Martino is busy doing the same on the other side of the stage.<\/em>

ANGELO Good night, Marty!

Martino doesn\u2019t reply. He looks at his watch as he gets comfortable.<\/em>

MARTINO Another day gone by.

He turns out the light. In the half-light…<\/em>

ANGELO Did it fall down far?

MARTINO What?

ANGELO Page nineteen hundred eighty.

MARTINO (after a pause<\/em>) Luckily no.

Blackout<\/em>

Scene 2.<\/strong>

Nighttime. Martino and Angelo are asleep, or pretending to be asleep. At one point Martino gets up to go to the bathroom. He turns on the light and locks the door.

No sooner has he done so than Angelo worms out of his bed. He checks to make sure that Martino is in the bathroom.<\/em> Then he goes toward Martino\u2019s bed, where he starts to rummage through his personal belongings!

Busy spying, Angelo is startled by the sound of a toilet flushing. A few seconds, however, are enough for him to scoot back to his bed and pretend he\u2019s sound asleep! Sleepy-eyed Martino wobbles back to his bed and gets under the covers. It\u2019s then Angelo\u2019s turn to make for the bathroom. But before locking the door, he stops at his friend\u2019s bedside to check if Martino is asleep. Then…<\/em>

MARTINO (from beneath the covers<\/em>) Lock yourself in! What are you afraid of? I\u2019ve no need to spy. Me, I just fall asleep and see things in my dreams!

The lights go to black again as Angelo is overcome with rage!

When the lights come up again, it is daytime.

Angelo is ruffled over something. He is pacing up and down the room and throws an object against the wall! The ceiling answers in kind, as a tile comes loose and barely misses him!

Martino is in the middle of the room, still in his pajamas. He is calm and relaxed, in the middle of a story.<\/em>

MARTINO So here I was walking down the street, when all the buildings opened their windows like so many mouths, saying: \u201cSo what\u2019s the story? Why doesn\u2019t Angelo come around any\u00admore? Doesn\u2019t he go out?\u201d So I answered: \u201cYou mean you don\u2019t know? Haven\u2019t you heard the news? He\u2019s sick!\u201d \u201cOhh, poor thing! Is he suffering?\u201d they asked. \u201cOh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!\u201d \u201cWhat\u2019s he have that\u2019s so serious?\u201d \u201cHe\u2019s caught the Midas bug!\u201d

ANGELO (his back to Martino, he turns his head<\/em>) The Midas bug? What\u2019s that?

MARTINO Ah, so now you want to know! You just said you weren\u2019t interested in my dreams. You didn\u2019t even want to hear them!

ANGELO That\u2019s right! So shut your trap!

MARTINO You see, the Midas bug is a virus that enters the bloodstream when a person\u2019s been to too many churches and then suddenly stops going! Which is why a person wakes up one morning and…

ANGELO I told you I do not wanna hear it!

MARTINO I\u2019m explaining it to the buildings, whose windows are open and hanging on every word I say! It\u2019s a virus. When you wake up in the morning and touch your foot or your leg, you find it\u2019s turned to gold, or silver! Just like those votive offerings people hang on altars in exchange for a miracle. They\u2019re in every church. (Looking sternly at Angelo, then speaking like Angelo<\/em>) As I\u2019m sure you know!

Angelo avoids his gaze.<\/em>

MARTINO (he continues, normal speech<\/em>) \u201cGes\u00f9! Ges\u00f9<\/em>!\u201d the buildings said, \u201cthat means he can\u2019t even move!\u201d \u201cOf course he can\u2019t move! And there\u2019s more: he\u2019s scared to death at the thought of the amputation! Can you imagine! Sawing off a leg of gold, replacing it with a wooden peg! Some deal!\u201d

ANGELO Dreams are the dreamer\u2019s problem!

MARTINO So then you have nothing to fear. What do you care?

ANGELO So then, according to you, how would this illness develop?

MARTINO So you do care?

ANGELO No, not me. Is the buildings want to know!

MARTINO How does it develop? Simple. At the start, a person always goes to church, and we know why. Then all of a sud\u00adden he stops. (Hinting<\/em>) And this we don\u2019t know why! Then somehow he doesn\u2019t go to the bathroom for a week, for fear of being spied on!

Angelo automatically rubs his belly.<\/em>

MARTINO So then all the poisons end up in the bloodstream, the skin starts to yellow, and it turns the color of gold! Then slowly but surely it keeps getting darker, until the color turns…

ANGELO (interrupting<\/em>) And the buildings? What did the buildings say?

MARTINO What could they say? \u201cOh, we\u2019re so sorry! Oh, poor Angelo!\u201d Some of them were crying, with tears washing down their rain-spouts! But the building that seemed most affected was your old church, where you used to serve.

ANGELO (betraying his anxiety<\/em>) My church? You went there?

MARTINO. It\u2019s easy to lose your way in a dream. I ended up right in front of it! Was she ever crying! She said to me: \u201cAngelo doesn\u2019t come around anymore! He doesn\u2019t love us anymore! Did we do something to lose his affection? It used to be he\u2019d swing from our church bells! And the bells would ring and ring!\u201d That\u2019s when I had to explain everything to her, and she said: \u201cOh, really? Then tell him one of these days I\u2019ll stop by to visit! (Menacingly<\/em>) When he least expects it!\u201d

ANGELO (trying to laugh<\/em>) Oh sure! The church will come up here! How will she get in? How she get through the door?

MARTINO The dream is mine, and I let her in!

ANGELO And then? Go on!

MARTINO And then just like that you were dead! (Eyeing Angelo<\/em>) Did you hear me, Angelo? You were dead!

ANGELO You don\u2019t scare me anymore! According to you, I been dead and resurrected a hundred times already! Here, look! Healthy as an ox!

He rubs his belly.<\/em>

MARTINO I wouldn\u2019t call it health! Anyway, the dream continues. Act two: you were dead, and I was accompanying you to the cemetery. But, how can I say it, ours was not a cheery procession.

ANGELO So you expect a party maybe?

MARTINO It wasn\u2019t cheery because we were alone: you in the hearse and I behind on foot! Us two alone and that\u2019s it. Basta<\/em>. Not even the coachman. And I wondered how the horses were managing without a guide! Or maybe there were no horses!

ANGELO (unable to contain himself<\/em>). E madonna santa<\/em>! (Mumbling as if to say, \u201cI\u2019ll get my revenge\u201d<\/em>) You is going to die, Marty!

MARTINO (sincerely<\/em>) You realize: a funeral with only one person in the procession, a funeral where the number of dead people equals the number of the living, I\u2019m not sure if it\u2019s sadder for the one who\u2019s gone or the one who\u2019s left behind. But back to the dream. So we were winding through the streets, singing the De Profundis<\/em>.

ANGELO We were singing? Wait, you mean me, I was singing too?

MARTINO Uhn hunh, you too! Come to think of it, it was only you! I wasn\u2019t singing. The spirit didn\u2019t move me.

ANGELO Padre, Figlio e Spirito Santo<\/em>! A dead man who sings the litany for himself! Is the first time!

MARTINO (hinting<\/em>) Does it surprise you? You\u2019ve always done everything alone… (Speaking like Angelo<\/em>) so why make a fuss about a song now! (Normal speech<\/em>) Stop it! Basta<\/em>! While we were passing through the streets, the buildings all turned and eyed me suspiciously: \u201cYoung man, who died?\u201d \u201cAngelo, he died!\u201d

Angelo pretends to be unfazed, but no sooner does Martino turn away than he begins to gesticulate wildly and obscenely as a kind of exorcism.<\/em>

MARTINO \u201cSo where are you taking him?\u201d \u201cTo the cemetery.\u201d (Speaking like Angelo<\/em>) \u201cWe are coming with you!\u201d (Normal speech<\/em>) So the buildings stood up on their steps and founda\u00adtions and started to follow us! And soon they were singing too! And at that point the funeral turned into a party, with all the buildings singing and dancing behind your hearse! Imagine, Angelo, even the church straightened up on its columns to come to the cemetery! But at the gate the gate\u00adkeeper said: \u201cKyrie Elieson!\u201d Suddenly I was lost! I couldn\u2019t remember the response and was mumbling all sorts of mumbo jumbo! But you stuck your head out of the casket and prompt\u00aded me: \u201cChriste Eleison! Christe Eleison!\u201d I repeated it right away and the gatekeeper let us in. \u201cAvanti,\u201d he said, \u201cbut only you and the deceased. The buildings must stay out\u00adside… (Speaking like Angelo<\/em>) they not allowed! We cannot have buildings parading \u2018round here! A cemetery is one thing, a city is another!\u201d (Normal speech<\/em>) So then a big dis\u00adcussion got started. In, out. Yes, no. Suddenly the notary appeared: \u201cStop it, everyone! We will now open the last will and testament!\u201d We all looked at each other in amazement: \u201cLast will and testament? He didn\u2019t even have a pot to piss in!\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s what you say!\u201d replied the notary. (Speaking like Angelo<\/em>) \u201cYou forget about his mattress?\u201d (Martino points to the mattress and speaks normally<\/em>) And that\u2019s when I woke up!

ANGELO (peeved<\/em>) You\u2019re fixated with my mattress. Always, you end up there. What do you think I keep in there? The riches of a queen? The treasure of San Gennaro?

MARTINO I don\u2019t know. But from the way you guard it…

ANGELO But how I make you understand there is nothing in there! Niente<\/em>! How I make you believe me? Set it on fire maybe?

MARTINO In the absence of any exculpatory evidence!

ANGELO So you force me to play Nero? I give you Nero! Is you that wanted it!

Angelo takes a sheet of paper from the table, makes it into a torch and lights it with a match.<\/em>

MARTINO (turning purple<\/em>) Page nineteen-hundred eighty! You bastard!

ANGELO I warned you I\u2019m gonna play Nero!

Martino grabs him, shakes loose the burning page and stomps it out. He picks it up and tries to read it.<\/em>

MARTINO (reads<\/em>) \u201cSimony… the selling of a church office or ecclesiastical…\u201d It\u2019s no use: the work is fatally beyond repair! And to think I even went downstairs to save it from the cats!

ANGELO (mortified<\/em>) I\u2019m sorry, I did not do it on purpose!

MARTINO Shut up, will you!

ANGELO (more aggressively<\/em>) Look, I did not do it on purpose! Is the truth!

MARTINO (insisting<\/em>) And I said shut up!

ANGELO Madonna<\/em>! Martino, calm down! It\u2019s not that we ruined the Holy Scriptures!

MARTINO (eyeing him with hate<\/em>) So, you want war? Then war it is! And all the worse for you!

Martino goes for Angelo\u2019s jar, takes the goldfish out by the tail, then, with sadistic determination, opens the window and throws the fish to the cats. Angelo lunges at Martino, but he\u2019s too late. Offstage, the usual wild yowling of cats!<\/em>

ANGELO (raising his fists<\/em>) You just pray to God that the cats they don\u2019t like alcohol!

He runs downstairs.<\/em>

MARTINO (alone<\/em>) You old crackpot! But that\u2019s it! Basta<\/em>! We\u2019ve fooled around long enough! I\u2019ll see you straight to the slammer! (He runs over to Angelo\u2019s mattress, drags it to the center of the room. There, using scissors, he begins to cut into it<\/em>.) We\u2019ll see if he can lie in the face of evidence! (Loudly, towards the door where Angelo exited<\/em>) Dreams do come true, Angelo: the church has come to visit you after all! And since she\u2019s here, know what? She\u2019s taking back everything you filched from her! (However, as he gradually empties the mattress and clusters of wool are spread all over the floor, his excitement turns into disappointment.<\/em>) The treasure\u2019s not here! I don\u2019t get it! It\u2019s got to be here! This is where he hid it! (His disap\u00adpointment grows as his chances of locating the stolen goods decrease; he’s perplexed<\/em>.) But, then, all his lies. And he\u2019d get so scared when I got too close to his bed.

Martino\u2019s disappointment now turns into anger. He starts throwing the wool over his shoulder, haphazardly, making for an incredibly dirty snowfall!<\/em>

ANGELO (from the stairs<\/em>) Dio mio<\/em>! They gobbled it all up, with the alcohol! (Entering, he sees the havoc<\/em>.) Oh my God! Oh my God!

He stumbles backwards and is about to fall. Martino gets up, totally embarrassed. He is stuffing bits of wool into his pockets, and trying to push what\u2019s left of the mattress under the table. All he can manage is a poor excuse for a lie.<\/em>

MARTINO I thought I\u2019d air out your mattress.

ANGELO (crushed<\/em>) My poor mattress, in a sea of wool!

MARTINO It can be fixed. It\u2019s nothing really. I\u2019ll sew it back together myself. Ten minutes and it\u2019ll be like new! A needle, and thread.

Angelo presses his hand to his heart, as if something inside him had been broken forever.<\/em>

MARTINO (aggressively, so as to defend himself<\/em>) How was I to know you really were crazy, you and all your mysteries?! You mean to tell me that your obstinate refusal to let anyone touch, or even approach your bed. was nothing but a pretense, a fixation and that\u2019s all? (He pauses<\/em>.) Well, if that\u2019s the way it is, what can I say? I was totally mistaken, and I\u2019m sorry! Forgive me! The truth is I was sure you had the church\u2019s gold in there! Gold you\u2019d stolen from the church, which was why you didn\u2019t go anymore, why you\u2019d come to hide in this house! And to cover it up, you invented the story about the restora\u00adtions, about the work being done. I was wrong. Forgive me.

ANGELO Martino, forget it. What happened happened.

MARTINO But why? Why did you behave like that? I don\u2019t get it! Cristo<\/em>, I must be losing my mind! Do you realize, at least, how suspiciously you behaved? I bet you that anybody in my shoes, after putting up with your mysteries, your excuses, your suspicions – and the lies! one lie after another! – I bet you anyone would have thought the worst!

ANGELO (bitterly<\/em>) Anyone, but not you! You should not have! \u2018Cause that hurts worse than the cats eating my fish and my mattress shredded all around the floor.

MARTINO And you\u2019re right. But can you at least explain?

ANGELO What\u2019s to explain? If I can explain things, then maybe I get some peace. But no! I gotta keep going, every day, with a hundred fears inside me. Gotta keep telling lies, a hundred lies for every fear inside I was born with! Sure, now and then I feel like the grip is more loose, like something is getting right. I begin to breath like I\u2019m free and not oppressed! Then, from one minute to the next, it starts again! Is like my chest. (He looks around<\/em>.) Is like inside my chest is one of those rafters. (He points to the rafters overhead.<\/em>) And it starts to shake, then comes loose, and inside of me it all crashes down!

MARTINO (after a long pause<\/em>). But then, those signals you were making at the window, if they weren\u2019t for some accomplice of yours, who were they for? You\u2019re not going to claim I dreamt it all!

ANGELO What can I say? One time I was really making the sign of the cross. Another time was when I thought I saw that woman walking by. The church lady, remember? And I tried calling her, but she did not see me. Or maybe it was not her. Maybe it was nobody. Is nobody around here, never. Nobody comes visit us, never!

MARTINO (after a pause<\/em>) What about your fear of the police? Did I dream that up too?

ANGELO The law is the law, Marty, and scares everybody! And maybe even more, men of honor!

Angelo heads for the bathroom, holding the jar of alcohol where he used to keep the fish.<\/em>

MARTINO What about the notice you were expecting?

ANGELO The notice, that\u2019s true too! The request for a new apartment, I really made it. And any day now I expect an answer. But I believe it and I don\u2019t believe it. Like they gonna answer me! And even that scares me to death, \u2018cause in the form, in the married box, I put \u201ccrippled wife in wheel\u00adchair\u201d! If they come wanting to see her, where I will find her?

He starts to exit.<\/em>

MARTINO (stopping Angelo<\/em>) Wait! And the church?

ANGELO The church? The church and me, we don\u2019t understand each other for a long time now.

He exits. Martino does his best to repair the damaged mattress.<\/em>

MARTINO Ecco qua.<\/em> There we go. Now, needle and thread and a nice job of invisible mending. We\u2019ll patch it up so you\u2019ll never notice! Even better than before! You know what, Angelo? After I finish yours, I\u2019m going to redo mine as well. Mattresses need a good airing out every now and then!

Angelo reappears holding his belly.<\/em>

MARTINO (noticing Angelo<\/em>). No, Angelo, please! Anything you want, but not this. Call me rotten! Call me a cuckold! Even ram your fingers down my throat! (Demonstrates by putting two fingers in his mouth.<\/em>) But don\u2019t go starting with your doubts again, should you do it or shouldn\u2019t you! Please, not after everything that\u2019s happened. This is not the time!

ANGELO (after a long silence<\/em>) I drank it… all of it!

MARTINO (not understanding<\/em>) Drank what?

ANGELO The jar of alcohol!

MARTINO (tense<\/em>) That\u2019s not funny!

ANGELO I\u2019m not being funny!

Martino runs into the bathroom. He returns, frazzled, with jar in hand.<\/em>

MARTINO But why? Why? No, I must be dreaming. This can\u2019t be!

ANGELO (haltingly<\/em>) First one rafter, it falls, then another falls, then another, and then all the dust and dirt gets in your eyes so you can\u2019t see nothing no more!

Feeling like he\u2019s going to vomit, Angelo writhes horribly in pain.<\/em>

MARTINO Damn you! You are insane, you really are! (He pauses.<\/em>) And I\u2019m crazy too for not understanding! For not realizing in time! (He holds up Angelo<\/em>.) Come on. Come here. Lie down on my bed. Nothing to worry about. I\u2019ll prepare some hot water. It\u2019ll make you throw up, and you\u2019ll see, you\u2019ll feel better right away.

ANGELO Hurry up!

He writhes in pain.<\/em>

MARTINO Does it hurt a lot, your belly? The hot water, I tell you…

Martino starts to move away but is held back by Angelo.<\/em>

ANGELO No! Do not leave me alone! Wait! Come more close! (His voice deepens<\/em>.) Tell me you don\u2019t despise me!

Martino helps Angelo stretch out on the bed.<\/em>

MARTINO I don\u2019t despise you, Angelo, don\u2019t worry.

ANGELO But you said always you did not want to talk with me. That you no talk with people like me since \u201889.

MARTINO Why do you go remembering that! People say all sorts of things!

ANGELO (he continues<\/em>) You said always you did not understand me. That I disgust you.

MARTINO You don\u2019t disgust me, Angelo. And if you want to know, I\u2019m even beginning to understand you.

ANGELO Bravo<\/em>! Thank you! I was sure of it, Marty! You are so intelligent! You were always better than me.

MARTINO Cut the crap, please! Between you and me, you\u2019re the better by far. Or let\u2019s say the less bad. Me, what do I do? I play the sophist. I want reasons for things, explanations, con\u00adsistency. And in the long run, what do I resolve? I criti\u00adcize, pro\u00adtest, make grand pronouncements, always nitpicking, never spar\u00ading anything or anybody! And then I go and accept life fully. I roll with the punches! I give in, without fighting back! I slurp up every minute of the show! And you know why? Because I haven\u2019t the guts to stand up and leave! Not you! You do the only sensible thing! If you can\u2019t stomach the show, you get up and leave! And if the doors are shut, you don\u2019t think twice. You smash through the emergency exit. Angelo, there\u2019s not much I can say, but of the two of us, I really think it\u2019s you who\u2019s figured things out.

Having held tight thus far, Angelo is now overcome by violent spasms.<\/em>

MARTINO (concerned<\/em>) You\u2019re suffering a lot, aren\u2019t you? I\u2019ll go prepare the hot water.

ANGELO (again holding Martino back<\/em>) Wait! Stay here! (He pauses, trying to muster his strength.<\/em>) Marty! Will you swear something?

MARTINO Angelo, you know I never swear.

ANGELO Then make me a promise (He has another spasm.<\/em>) But remember that a promise made to a dying man, it means more than just swearing.

MARTINO (embarrassed<\/em>) I\u2019ll go get the hot water. You\u2019ll throw up, and you\u2019ll be all better. It could be just a bad upset stomach.

He tries to move away again.<\/em>

ANGELO (hanging on to Martino<\/em>) Marty, that promise!

MARTINO What promise?

ANGELO Marty, promise me that, before I die, me and you, we… we get married!

Martino, astonished, is taken aback. For a moment he holds onto the headboard of the bed, then…<\/em>

MARTINO I\u2019ll go get the hot water.

ANGELO Yes, Marty, you gotta promise me that if I get worse, if I go into the final agony, you will call a priest. No, not Father Iginio! Another priest, who does not know me. And we get married in extremis<\/em>!

MARTINO But that just can\u2019t be!

ANGELO Life is full of things that can\u2019t be and are!

MARTINO (scratching his head<\/em>) But I tell you it can\u2019t be!

ANGELO (after letting out a moan<\/em>) Marty, please, don\u2019t make me die in sin!

MARTINO But, Angelo, what sin?

ANGELO Marty, promise me!

MARTINO Your head never was of much use to you. Now it\u2019s even worse! I\u2019m going to get the hot water.

ANGELO But what it costs you? If I get better, we don\u2019t do it. If I enter into the final agony, I die. So will you promise?

MARTINO (after taking a moment to think<\/em>) OK, I promise.

ANGELO (bolting miraculously from his bed<\/em>) Hah! As if I marry you! Listen here, is not yet born the man who gonna tie my knot!

Dumbfounded, Martino stares fiercely at Angelo.<\/em>

ANGELO E gi\u00e0<\/em>! So you do wanna marry me, eh? You even think about it! Can you imagine!

MARTINO (foaming with rage<\/em>) Me? But it was you who…

ANGELO Marty, what\u2019s said is said! I was only having fun, but you was doing it for real! So now who is the faggot, huh? Tell me: \u2018tween me and you, who is the faggot?

MARTINO I\u2019ll spill every drop of your blood! That blood that\u2019s black and wormy like your soul!

ANGELO You fall for it, Marty, admit it! Faggot! Faggot!

Martino jumps him, when suddenly, out of the blue, mysterious and metaphysical, a telephone rings! The two men stop, astonished, stupefied. The telephone continues to ring.<\/em>

ANGELO (whispering<\/em>) Is the phone!

MARTINO They\u2019re calling!

ANGELO They looking for us!

MARTINO They want us!

ANGELO (almost terrified<\/em>) Who can it be?

MARTINO (the voice of reason<\/em>) Someone calling us.

ANGELO (hazards a guess<\/em>) The professor wants his book, maybe?

MARTINO Why not your church lady?

ANGELO Could be also your wife.

MARTINO Or Father Iginio to tell you the church reopened.

ANGELO Or maybe is a theater company that wants you for a tour?

MARTINO Or perhaps those people about the new housing.

ANGELO (after a pause<\/em>) God bless the telephone!

Just then the telephone stops ringing.<\/em>

ANGELO (waiting<\/em>) So what now, why\u2019d it stop?

MARTINO What did you expect, if we don\u2019t answer!

ANGELO (desperately<\/em>) So now what we do?

MARTINO You were so busy blabbing, the thing just got tired of ringing.

ANGELO Me? So this too is my fault! While the goofball sticks his head in the clouds!

MARTINO How could I know the phone was still connected?

The phone starts to ring again.<\/em>

MARTINO (in a frenzy<\/em>) It\u2019s them again! Answer the phone!

ANGELO Where is it?

He looks for the phone.<\/em>

MARTINO Last time I saw it, it was on the shelf.

ANGELO Yes, but then we put it on the cupboard, since no one was calling no more.

MARTINO So that\u2019s where it must be! (He runs to the cupboard.<\/em>) Get up there! Get a chair and get up there!

The phone keeps ringing. Angelo climbs onto the chair. Martino helps him. Angelo reaches up and feels blindly on top of the cupboard. He pulls out a variety of objects. Standing below him, Martino curses. Finally Angelo finds the receiver!<\/em>

ANGELO Hello! Hello!

He passes the receiver to Martino.<\/em>

MARTINO (frantically<\/em>) Hello! Hello!

He passes the receiver back to Angelo.<\/em>

ANGELO Hello! (Pause<\/em>) Vincent de Paul? One minute, please, I will check. (To Martino<\/em>) Are you Vincent de Paul?

MARTINO. Give me that, you idiot! (Into the telephone<\/em>) Who is it you wish to talk to? Vincent de Paul? No. No. He\u2019s not here at the moment. No, not with us. We don\u2019t have one. He\u2019s missing. Yes, in the sense that we can\u2019t come up with him right away, but if you\u2019d like, maybe with a little time. We could find out, of course. No, this is not the wrong number, because, I\u2019m sorry… We\u2019re here. Yes, us. Martino and Angelo! Angelo and Martino! Anytime you need any\u00adthing. Wait, please, wait, let\u2019s talk for a moment! As I was saying, instead of this Vincent de Paul you might prefer some\u00adone else. We are entirely at your disposal. Signora<\/em>, wait! (Pause<\/em>) Hello! (Pause, then to Angelo<\/em>) She hung up!

ANGELO (ripping the phone from Martino<\/em>). Hello! Hello! This is Vincent de Paul! Hello! (To Martino<\/em>) She go away!

Martino goes to sit down in the center of the room.<\/em>

ANGELO (coming down from the chair<\/em>) You made her go away!

MARTINO Me? She said she had the wrong number.

ANGELO (with venom<\/em>) We have one phone call, and you, you make it go away!

MARTINO Jesus, can\u2019t you understand? She had the wrong number!

ANGELO Was a woman. Of course. I could tell from her voice.

MARTINO Woman, man. What difference does it make?

ANGELO (refusing to drop it<\/em>) I mean, you did not know how to say you were what\u2019s his name, Vincent de Paul? You did not know how to invent a lie?

MARTINO And then what? If she asked me something, how would I answer?

ANGELO Another lie.

MARTINO (contemptuous<\/em>). They should have named me Angelo!

ANGELO Oh sure! This man, he no tell lies! This man, lies make him sick! This man, he is without sin! This man, he need explanations! Consistency! He spares nobody, not even his own mamma<\/em>! Not even Ges\u00f9 Cristo<\/em>!

MARTINO (controlling himself<\/em>). Angelo, listen carefully now: don\u2019t you provoke me!

ANGELO (pushing his luck<\/em>). And meanwhile that woman, that lady, she dumped you! She did not wanna talk to you! Is your fate: women always dump you. Saint Martino of the Afflicted Heart, when they see him, women fart!

Martino trembles, but stays in control of himself.<\/em>

ANGELO La Grande Signora<\/em>! The grand fuck in the royal box! That Signora<\/em>, you killed her too – that Signora<\/em>, Marty! She croaked from the shame of spreading her legs for you!

MARTINO (grabbing a pair of scissors<\/em>) Angelo, if you don\u2019t stop, I\u2019m going to slit your belly! Just like I did the mattress! Although I already know you\u2019re empty! Just like your mattress was empty!

ANGELO (devilishly<\/em>) My mattress was empty when you opened it!

MARTINO (enraged<\/em>) Still at it, huh? Still with the lies? Even now? I\u2019ll strangle you yet! You maggot!

Martino lunges at Angelo, who tries to wrest himself free. Suddenly, a huge chunk of plaster crashes onto Martino\u2019s bed. The two men stop. Martino looks towards his bed in terror. In total symmetry, another chunk plummets onto Angelo\u2019s bed. He too turns around to look. The two now have their backs to one another, as each man stares at the collapse of his corner. Very slowly, they both step backwards, until their backs touch. Offstage, the yowling of cats.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Un eccesso di zelo<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Il seguente testo viene pubblicato per gentile concessione dell\u2019autore.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

PERSONAGGI (in ordine di entrata):<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA LIBERTI casalinga, n\u00e9 bella n\u00e9 brutta, sui trentacinque anni, ma ne dimostra di pi\u00f9.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO LIBERTI suo marito orchestrale, sui quarantacinque anni, tozzo spalle quadre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO padre di Aurora, vicino ai settanta anni, vedovo<\/p>\n\n\n\n

inoltre:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER TV, uomo<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER TV, donna<\/p>\n\n\n\n

PRIMO TEMPO<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Un soggiorno pranzo come tanti. Sulla parete di sinistra due porte: una d\u00e0 nell’ingresso, l’altra nella cucina. Tra le due porte una piccola credenza. Accanto, ben visibile, un grande barometro a muro. Sulla parete di fondo una finestra e un grande armadio. Sulla parete di destra la porta che d\u00e0 nelle altre stanze della casa (bagno e camere da letto). Sempre a ridosso di questa parete, un angolo – salotto con due poltroncine e un televisore (posto accuratamente di spalle al pubblico).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Al centro della scena un tavolo da pranzo con quattro sedie. Alle pareti, dove si vuole (purch\u00e9 non vicini tra loro), un telefono e un citofono.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Quando comincia l’azione \u00e8 mattina. Dalla finestra entra un raggio di sole. L’ambiente \u00e8 ingombro di giocattoli di ogni tipo. Fuori scena sentiamo il rumore prolungato di una chiave che gira nella toppa, poi quello pi\u00f9 secco della porta d’ingresso che viene sbattuta…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sulla soglia appare Aurora, trentacinque anni, n\u00e9 bella n\u00e9 brutta. Indossa un cappotto grigio, quanto di meno vistoso si possa immaginare. Aurora, ancora assonnata, si sfila il cappotto e lo getta sulla poltrona. Notiamo subito una piccola stranezza (di cui pi\u00f9 avanti apprenderemo la ragione); la donna, sotto il cappotto, indossa una vestaglina che, in petto e in punta alle maniche, lascia intravedere la camicia da notte. Sempre in vestaglia, Aurora attraversa la scena per andare verso la cucina. Lungo il percorso, stancamente, raccoglie un pattino a rotelle, con lo sguardo cerca in giro l’altro, si arrende presto, posa sulla poltrona quello che ha trovato; poi, come ricordandosi di qualcosa all’improvviso…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Il caff\u00e8!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scompare in direzione della cucina.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dalla seconda porta di destra (quella che d\u00e0 sul resto della casa entra Ivio quarantacinquenne, spalle quadre, aria da meccanico o fonditore. E’ in pigiama. Si dirige verso il barometro appeso alla parete, gli d\u00e0 un colpetto con la punta delle dita, poi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (serio) Variabile, in diminuzione. (e scompare da dove \u00e8 venuto).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riappare Aurora con in mano una tazza di caff\u00e8, la porta alle labbra, va alla credenza, ne estrae la zuccheriera, zucchera il caff\u00e8. Poi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA No, non vi ho dimenticate, amiche mie!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora va all’armadio, lo apre e vi sparge dentro, ad arte, alcuni cucchiaini di zucchero…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sempre rivolta ai suoi invisibili interlocutori) Ma i patti sono patti: mai fuori di qui! (e torna in cucina).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rientra Ivio, adesso in canotta e mutande, torna al barometro, gli d\u00e0 un altro paio di colpetti…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (sempre serio) In diminuzione: non ci sono Cristi! (e scompare da dove \u00e8 venuto, pi\u00f9 deluso che mai).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Riappare Aurora con un biscottino, e viene a sorseggiare il suo caff\u00e8 in piedi dietro la tavola da pranzo…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (fissando una rivista aperta sulla tavola) Tutti li uccidono, tutti!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rientra di nuovo Ivio, sempre in canotta e mutande, asciugandosi il viso con un asciugamani…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (a lei come buongiorno) Variabile in diminuzione.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Fuori c’\u00e8 il sole.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non ci dovrebbe essere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA C’\u00e8, ti dico.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non ci contare: non dura. (pausa) Che fai ora parli da sola?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Io?…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO L’ultima novit\u00e0?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Quando?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ti ho sentita. Dal bagno. Un minuto fa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (ricordandosi) Ah, s\u00ec!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Preghi, o che cosa?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA No, dicevo: tutti li uccidono, poverini!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Chi uccidono?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (mostrando la rivista) I rinoceronti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (passivo) Ah, i rinoceronti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Fra qualche anno vivo non ne rester\u00e0 uno solo. E lo sai perch\u00e9 li uccidono?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (che ha fretta) Magari me lo dici stasera, eh?…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (non lo ascolta) Hai presente il corno che quei bestioni hanno sul naso? Bene, c’\u00e8 gente che gli attribuisce un potere afrodisiaco. Ed \u00e8 disposta a sborsare cifre astronomiche pur di ottenere uno di quei corni. Capisci che roba?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (sulle spine) Eh!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E sai quanto arrivano a pagare per un solo corno? D\u00ec una cifra, avanti, d\u00ec una cifra.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (guardando l’ora) Aurora, io…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Fino a diecimila dollari!… E gli indigeni mica sono fessi. Gli fanno la posta e… pam!… pam, pam!… li abbattono. Ma di chi \u00e8 la colpa, avanti, rispondi, di chi \u00e8?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (guardandola sempre pi\u00f9 perplesso) Aurora!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sicura) Dei governanti di quei Paesi. Che non solo non alzano un dito per arrestare quella strage, ma sotto sotto la incoraggiano addirittura! S\u00ec, perch\u00e9 loro problemi di denaro non ne hanno, ma forse qualche problema sessuale, s\u00ec. e ragionano in questo modo: “Magari non \u00e8 vero, ma hai visto mai…”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E a te tutte queste cose chi te le dice?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA I giornali, la televisione…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio scuote la testa. Il corno di un animale che scatena il desiderio dell’uomo… si pu\u00f2 essere pi\u00f9 stupidi, dico io?… Se poi gi\u00e0 ce l’hai, il desiderio, a che ti serve il corno allora?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (dopo un tempo) Aurora, me lo fai questo benedetto caff\u00e8, o devo farmelo da me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (stralunata) Il caff\u00e8, \u00e8 vero il caff\u00e8… (si avvia senza fretta).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E’ tardi, lo capisci che \u00e8 tardi? Sono le nove passate! La prova \u00e8 alle dieci in punto! E tu mi parli di rinoceronti!…(tra s\u00e9) Nelle mani di un tedesco, siamo questa volta!… Un tipo che non sgarra di un secondo… Uno che crede di poter rimediare con la puntualit\u00e0 alla mancanza di genialit\u00e0. Pensa un po’!… (la vede indugiare sulla soglia) Ancora l\u00e0!?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (offesa, avviandosi alla cucina) Stavamo parlando di una cosa importante, mi pare…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA …E tu gli dici:” Scusi il ritardo, signor tedesco. Mi sono fermato a discutere con mia moglie…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO … di corni!… (sbrigativo) Dai, per favore… Non ti incantare, com’\u00e8 tuo solito. (e si siede ad aspettare il caff\u00e8).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (seria, sulla soglia della cucina) Quando poi Francesco sar\u00e0 grande… Lilla, no… Lilla ha un altro carattere… tutto le scivola addosso, beata lei!… Ma Francesco, eh! Francesco si guarda attorno, si chiede il perch\u00e9 di tante cose… Quando poi Francesco compir\u00e0 vent’anni, e ti chieder\u00e0: “Che hai fatto, pap\u00e0, per salvare i rinoceronti dall’estinzione?”, voglio proprio vedere che gli racconti…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Che gli racconto? (si alza di scatto) Che mi sono alzato ogni mattina alle otto e mezzo. Per essere al lavoro alle dieci, pronto al mio posto!… Che qui, in punta alle labbra, ho perso quasi del tutto la sensibilit\u00e0. Un callo, poeticamente detto! E questo perch\u00e9? Perch\u00e9 le ho tenute strette intorno all’ancia di un oboe tutti i santi giorni che il Signore manda in terra… Che mi sono dovuto sciroppare migliaia e migliaia di volte quelle che i maniaci della musica chiamano “divine armonie”… e che io adesso non posso pi\u00f9 ascoltare senza sentirmi… nauseato… eh, nauseato come ci si sente dopo un’abbuffata… Che, quando non si trattava di classici, mi sono dovuto spaccare polmoni e cervello con quella robaccia che va sotto il nome di musica contemporanea… senza capirne un accidenti, ma dovendo anche fare, alla fine di ogni esecuzione, una faccia intelligente… Fatica, per la quale, giuro, non bastano indennit\u00e0, maggiorazioni e premi annuali!… Ecco, ecco che gli racconto a Francesco, il giorno del suo ventesimo compleanno.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (fa per parlare) Va bene, ma non \u00e8 una buona ragione per…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (la previene) S\u00ec, lo so… E’ probabile che lui ribatter\u00e0… Perch\u00e9 non si limita a guardarsi attorno e a chiedersi i “perch\u00e9”, il signorino…no, lui rompe pure i coglioni!… Ribatter\u00e0 che tutto questo c’entra poco o niente con l’estinzione dei rinoceronti. E allora io gli sbatto in faccia che ho dovuto scegliere o l’estinzione dei rinoceronti o la sua estinzione. (montandosi da solo) Ma porco mondo! Vedi tu se un povero Cristo deve cominciarsi a incazzare a prima mattina!?… Come se l\u00ec fuori (indica l’esterno) Fossero poche le occasioni per… (si volta a lei minaccioso) E adesso o mi porti quel fottutissimo caff\u00e8, o me lo vado a prendere al bar, in culo ai rinoceronti!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (cauta) Non t’infuriare! (seria) Se no diventi un rinoceronte, cacci un corno sul naso e sparano anche a te! Rimettiti a sedere, che arrivo subito. (esce).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (cercando di calmarsi) Ma porca puttana, ogni giorno ce n’\u00e8 una nuova! (siede). Ieri mattina gli alberi che abbattono in Amazzonia… L’altro ieri allarme generale: Sta scomparendo il chiro… non so che, dal lago non so quale, vicino Perugia. Una specie di gamberetto schifoso lungo meno di un centimetro! Se scompare voglio proprio vedere chi se ne accorge!… Oggi… (gli cade l’occhio sulla rivista) Colpa di questi giornalacci capaci soltanto di suonare le campane a morto! E… (si volta verso la Tv) e di quell’altro uccello del malaugurio! (afferra la rivista e la scaglia contro l’apparecchio, che si accende di scatto).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SPEAKER TV …Il buco dell’ozono, rilevato nell’atmosfera sovrastante il Polo Sud continua ad essere al centro delle preoccupazioni dei maggiori esperti di…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (con un balzo felino spegne) Vaffanculo! Esperti di iettatura! Dalla mattina cominciano! Prima ancora di dirti buongiorno!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora torna con il caff\u00e8.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Anche tu parli da solo…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio, per tutta risposta, prende a girare nervosamente il suo caff\u00e8.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Io poi a chi racconto queste cose? A uno che impazzisce per le armi!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io impazzisco per le armi?! Io?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ti piace sparare, ti piace!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E’ uno sport come tanti. (va a tirare fuori da un astuccio la pistola).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Un musicista che maneggia le pistole\u2026.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Fare centro \u00e8 come imbroccare un’intonazione perfetta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA A parole, certamente. Ma quando prendi la mira…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ebbene? (puntando nel vuoto).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Quel coso l\u00e0… il bersaglio… nella tua testa diventa un animale…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E tu come lo sai? (mette via pistola e astuccio).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Non lo so, lo immagino.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Immagini male.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E’ istintivo\u2026.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma che vuoi? Non me la regalavi, allora\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Allora a queste cose non ci pensavo…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora in silenzio, va al tavolino della macchina per scrivere e la scopri.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (senza guardarla) Francesco e Lilla?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (fa per gioco – un gioco triste – il saluto militare) Regolarmente caricati sul pulmino, signor comandante.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (sempre in mutande, non raccoglie) Dovresti vestirti la mattina, quando scendi gi\u00f9.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Vado sempre di corsa…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Quante volte te lo devo dire?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA L’autista brontola, se lo facciamo aspettare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Capirai! (poi categorico) Non mi piace che la gente del palazzo ti veda in vestaglia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (mettendo il foglio nella macchina) Mi infilo il cappotto, chi mi vede?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non potrai infilarti il cappotto pure a luglio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA A luglio la scuola non c’\u00e8.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (in difficolt\u00e0) E lo stesso non mi piace. Mi d\u00e0 un senso di sciatto. Dico, ti costa tanto avere un po’ pi\u00f9 di cura per te stessa?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (paziente) Ivio, ti prego… non ora, almeno…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Tutta figlia di tuo padre: mai che avesse la barba fatta, lui!… (la guarda) Ora, per esempio, perch\u00e9 non ti vesti prima di attaccare l\u00ec? (indica la macchina per scrivere).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ho i minuti contati anch’io. Alle undici il dottor Guerrini passa a ritirare il secondo tempo… e io l’ho appena cominciato. (lo guarda, poi dura) Neanche tu, per\u00f2, sei vestito da sera. E non ti chiedi se io non provo lo stesso senso di sciatto?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Che fai, tiri i calci?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA No, tu puoi stare mezzo nudo, io non posso stare in vestaglia, questa \u00e8 la verit\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (risentito) Ma con che testa ti sei svegliata, stamattina?! Io non vado in orchestra col cappotto infilato sopra le mutande, io! (poi calmandosi) Finisco il caff\u00e8, e mi vesto. Come da quindici anni a questa parte. E tu dovresti saperlo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (remissiva) Hai ragione, scusami. (comincia a battere a macchina) “Mattina dopo. Esterno giorno…”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (sorseggiando) Bel tipo, quello l\u00ec… Te lo raccomando!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (distratta) L’autista del pulmino?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Il tuo “dottor Guerrini”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (interrompendo il lavoro) Poverino, \u00e8 tanto simpatico… E gentile, pure…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma non sale mai. Sempre tu a doverti scomodare… a portargli il lavoro fino a gi\u00f9…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Non trova mai da parcheggiare…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Va bene: gentile e simpatico. Ma una di queste volte, da lui, ci scendo io. “Lei la deve smettere di scrivere sozzerie!… Che poi devono passare sotto gli occhi di mia moglie!… E se proprio non ne pu\u00f2 fare a meno… se le batta a macchina lei!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (con una punta di civetteria) Sei geloso?… E’ un vecchio signore di sessant’anni e passa…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Geloso io?! Eh!… Ma non ho mai sopportato i degenerati. Specie quelli vecchi!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (didattica) E poi non sono sozzerie, le sue. (ispirata) Lui fotografa la realt\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ah, vedo che ti ha conquistata alle sue idee. Ti porter\u00e0 all’Universit\u00e0 come sua assistente, quando gli daranno la cattedra di Pornografia. Va’, va’… Hai ragione che oggi proprio non posso mancare alla prova. (trionfo) Sul finale del “Monte Calvo” l’oboe \u00e8 protagonista!… Ma un’altra volta me la vedo io, col tuo bell’artista… quel vecchio porcone… pure frocio, magari!… (dopo un tempo) Beh, io mi preparo: (fa per alzarsi, ma mette un piede sull’altro pattino a rotelle – quello che Aurora aveva cercato senza esito – e rischia di finire lungo per terra) Porcaccia la miseria! (imprecando, scaglia il pattino sulla poltrona dove Aurora ha posato il primo) Sempre tutto in giro! Questa casa \u00e8 un troiaio!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora, punta sul vivo, cerca di rimediare sollevando da terra qualcuno dei giocattoli sparsi un po’ dappertutto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO S\u00ec, e ti credi che hai risolto?… Ma un giorno o l’altro getto tutto dalla finestra, vedrai! (cercando di recuperare la dignit\u00e0 perduta nel buffo incidente) Questa \u00e8 opera di Francesco: lui non ha tempo per l’ordine, lui deve interrogare l’universo!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (calma) Ti sbagli. Ieri sera toccava a Lilla, la tua prediletta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io non ho figli prediletti, chiariamo. (cupo) Ma certe volte quel ragazzo mi guarda con un disprezzo cos\u00ec…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Me, mi guarda con amore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (taglia corto) E va bene: Lilla a me, Francesco a te\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (assorta) L’altro giorno, poi, mi ha guardata addirittura con curiosit\u00e0 e divertimento.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio non capisce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ero sotto la doccia… E lui distrattamente, ha aperto la porta del bagno… e mi ha vista nuda.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO La curiosit\u00e0 la capisco. E’ in un’et\u00e0 difficile…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Non mi vedeva “cos\u00ec” da quando era piccolo piccolo…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (proseguendo il suo pensiero) …Il divertimento lo capisco molto meno.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Sono pi\u00f9 liberi di come eravamo noi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO D’accordo. Ma d’ora in poi chiuditi a chiave, quando fai il tuo “numero” sotto l’acqua… E’ meglio. Fra un anno o due gli proporr\u00f2 io qualche genere di divertimento pi\u00f9 sano, se non sar\u00e0 in grado di procurarselo da solo. (guarda l’ora) Ma io sto qui, a perdere tempo, a dire fesserie con te… mentre dovrei gi\u00e0 essere per strada… la camicia pulita?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Nel tuo cassetto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio esce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (torna alla macchina, si accinge a scrivere, poi tra s\u00e9… ) Come sempre, del resto. Ricordami un giorno, un solo giorno da quando siamo sposati, dal nostro “Pa pa ppa pa” (intonando la marcia nuziale) che non hai trovato la tua camicia pulita al posto suo. Eh, trattami male, tu! Ma un’altra donna come me dove la trovi? Moglie, madre e collaboratrice nelle entrate familiari. (prende un foglietto di carta) Ecco qua: questo mese ho gi\u00e0 guadagnato trecentomila lire. Eh, solo il dottor Guerrini mi apprezza per quanto merito. “Le mani d’oro” mi dice. “Lei , signora Liberti, ha le mani d’oro! E la volont\u00e0!… (solenne, ispirata) Lei potrebbe anche imparare a volare con la volont\u00e0 che si ritrova “Dottor Guerrini, ma che le salta in mente?… Alla mia et\u00e0, con un marito e due figli, prendere il brevetto di pilota?!” “Ma quale brevetto?!” fa lui. “Volare , signora Liberti! Volare con le sue braccia! (muove le braccia a guisa di ali) Libera come un uccello, come una rondine!” (ripensandoci e compiacendosene) Che tipo! Sempre allegro, sempre…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Squilla il telefono.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (dall’interno) Se chiamano dal teatro, di’ che sono gi\u00e0 uscito, che sto arrivando!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (rispondendo) Pronto? Ah, sei tu… (pausa) Bene, bene… E tu come hai passato la notte? (pausa) Ah!… E quel disturbo, quel disturbo l\u00e0 (pausa) Meglio cos\u00ec. (pausa) Stasera?… Non lo so, lo chiedo a Ivio, e poi te lo faccio sapere. (pausa) Ora no, ora va di fretta, ha fatto tardissimo. (pausa) No, no, ma perch\u00e9 ti vuoi togliere tutte le cose della mamma?! Quello \u00e8 un regalo suo, te lo andammo a comprare insieme. (pausa) E poi Ivio di rasoi elettrici ne ha gi\u00e0 due.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(pausa) E va bene, ne riparliamo quando ci vediamo. Ciao, ciao… (posa il ricevitore).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ricompare Ivio, finalmente presentabile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Era pap\u00e0. Diceva se stasera passiamo da lui. Si \u00e8 svegliato con la voglia di cucinare…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Anche io?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Anche tu cosa?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Devo esserci anche io? Non gli basti tu?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Lo sai, Ivio: se mi vede arrivare da sola pensa che abbiamo litigato…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Sarebbe una gioia da niente, per lui.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Sei maligno. Questo, caso mai, \u00e8 tipico delle suocere, non dei suoceri.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Un uomo che resta vedovo \u00e8 pi\u00f9 una suocera che un suocero. E poi… l’abbiamo gi\u00e0 detto… dei tuoi genitori l’uomo non \u00e8 mai stato tuo padre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Perch\u00e9 gli piace cucinare?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO I pantaloni li portava lei, tua madre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Tutti i pi\u00f9 grandi cuochi sono maschi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (taglia corto) E comunque abituati ad andarci da sola, adesso che gli \u00e8 venuto questo nuovo accidente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (lagnosa) Io non dico tutti i giorni… Ma una sera alla settimana… che ti costa?… Su, amore!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Hai il coraggio di chiedermi che mi costa?… Quando soffriva di stomaco non faceva che mostrarmi la lingua… “Tu che te ne intendi…” Perch\u00e9 me ne dovrei intendere, sentiamo, perch\u00e9 suono l’oboe? Poi gli \u00e8 presa la fissa dell’artritismo deformante… E ogni volta a confrontare le sue dita con le mie… “Vedi, qui a te il dito va dritto come una “i”… A me invece fa una specie di “elle”…” Adesso con questa bella novit\u00e0 delle emorroidi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (lo interrompe) Va bene, glielo dico io, a pap\u00e0, di non asfissiarti, di la sciarti in pace… E vedrai che…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Viene interrotta dal gracidante suono del citofono.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Il citofono? E chi pu\u00f2 essere?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA L’uomo del gas…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Il tuo bell’artista… il vecchio porcone…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sobbalza) Il dottor Guerrini! E… e che gli dico?! Sto indietro, indietro un sacco!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (irritato) Che fai, svieni? Mandalo a quel paese! Anzi no, ce lo mando io. (deciso, punta sul citofono).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA No!… (fa per fermarlo).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (la scansa con rudi maniere e risponde al citofono) Pronto?… Chi? (poi, dopo un lieve imbarazzo) Ha sbagliato! (e riattacca).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Chi era?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (vago) E che ne so… Vado a finire di prepararmi… (si avvia) Il citofono torna a suonare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (rispondendo) Pronto?… Si, casa Liberti… Ah, pap\u00e0!… No, non hai sbagliato, sono io, Aurora. (pausa) S\u00ec, s\u00ec, sali… (poi riattaccando) Come ti \u00e8 saltato in testa di dirgli che aveva sbagliato?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Sono stato preso alla sprovvista.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Non \u00e8 una scusa da citofono. Lui legge meglio la targhetta e torna a suonare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (polemico) E a quel punto rispondi tu e gli dici di salire. Lo so, lo so come va a finire ogni volta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E’ mio padre, Ivio!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Appunto: il tuo, non il mio: E poi si trascura… sempre con la barba non fatta…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (tentando di rabbonirlo) Ti ha regalato quel barometro che ti \u00e8 tanto utile…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Se una persona ti regala una cosa utile non vuol dire che quella persona sia utile. E poi ci gioca anche lui.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (scuotendo la testa) Le persone non si giudicano dalla loro utilit\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (irriducibile) In assenza di altre qualit\u00e0…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma \u00e8 mio padre!… Che faccio, lo sopprimo?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (imbarazzato) Ma quello telefona, citofona, sale… Una casa sua non ce l’ha?…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E’ brutto essere sempre soli in casa. E’ brutto alla nostra et\u00e0, immagina alla sua.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (taglia corto) Lo ricevi tu, intesi. Io non esco. (poi ripensandoci) Ma che dico, io devo uscire per forza! Le prove!… Ed \u00e8 tardissimo, Cristo! (goffamente) La finestra! Uscir\u00f2 dalla finestra!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Suonano alla porta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (andando ad aprire) Avr\u00e0 bisogno di una sciocchezza, lo sai com’\u00e8 fatto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lo mando via subito…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (alla finestra, verificando la possibilit\u00e0 di quanto ha detto) Tre piani!… Ce n’\u00e8 abbastanza per sfracellarsi al suolo. Ma perch\u00e9 non abitiamo a piano terra?! (si arresta) E poi sono ancora in questo stato!… Ma porco!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Entrando Aurora e il padre signor Demetrio. Demetrio \u00e8 un uomo anziano, dall’aria gentile, ma dalle maniere lagnose, petulanti, che in parte giustificano l’avversione di Ivio Demetrio ha con s\u00e9 alcune buste della spesa. Gentile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Buona giornata a tutti! (va al barometro) Anche se questo continua a scendere… Non \u00e8 un buon segno… (A Ivio) Ciao, Ivio. Ben levato!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio borbotta qualcosa di incomprensibile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (abituato agli sgarbi di lui, ad Aurora) Ti ho portato un nuovo tipo di pelati… Li ho scoperti al supermercato di via Ricciardi… Li dovevo prendere per me, li ho presi anche per te.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(glieli mostra)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Grazie, li prover\u00f2 stasera.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Stasera?… Allora proprio non volete venire…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (imbarazzata) Ivio ha un impegno… Te l’ho detto, al telefono, che non…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (non si arrende) Va bene. Ma tenetevi liberi per domani. Vi faccio i filetti di merluzzo con le ulive e i capperi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (cercando di coinvolgere il marito) Bravo! Quelli che a Ivio piacciono tanto… Vero, Ivio? Rispondi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio, che di spalle si sta annodando la cravatta, si volta e sorride forzatamente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (lo prende per un incoraggiamento, e gli va incontro) E… e che altro vuoi mangiare? Dimmelo, cos\u00ec domani mattina, quando scendo per la spesa…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (passa al contrattacco) Anche stamattina la barba non fatta, vero, signor Demetrio?…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (impacciato) L’onore del mento, come si chiamava un tempo!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ah! (toccandosi la guancia) Io, dunque, sarei un uomo senza onore…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (per tutta risposta) A proposito!… (caccia dalla tasca un oggetto) Per te.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Che cos’\u00e8?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (scartandolo) Un rasoio elettrico. Mai usato!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Si vede!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Me lo regal\u00f2 la mia povera moglie… (sospira) Tienilo tu. Io ne ho un altro, all’occorrenza…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio e Aurora si guardano. Ivio le passa il dono.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Grazie, \u00e8 bellissimo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (soddisfatto) Ora me ne vado, non vi faccio perdere altro tempo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Va diritto a casa, mi raccomando! E la mattina non uscire cos\u00ec presto! D’inverno, poi… Ti puoi beccare una polmonite…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (lagnoso) Volesse il cielo! In un mese, anche meno, vi levereste di torno questo vecchio ingombrante, fastidioso, inutile…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (ad Aurora, a mezza voce) L’ha detto lui.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (al padre, accompagnandolo) Non ti ho neanche fatto il caff\u00e8…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (si arresta) Meglio. Da qualche tempo mi sono reso conto che non mi fa affatto bene. Mi… restringe l’intestino, se posso dire liberamente… Poi mi devo sforzare, e… (si volta e torna verso Ivio) Senti, Ivio, tu che…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (pronto) Non lo chieda a me!… Io non ne capisco niente. Di medicina, in generale. E di quei problemi, in particolare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Ma suoni l’oboe…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E con questo?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Dal macellaio, ieri mattina, parlando di questi disturbi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E gi\u00e0, dai macellai si tengono quotidiani congressi sulle emorroidi, si sa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (paziente)…Parlandone a quattr’occhi con un colonnello a riposo… lui mi ha detto che quelli che suonano gli strumenti a fiato. Dovendosi sforzare in modo speciale…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non \u00e8 esatto. N\u00e9 scientificamente n\u00e9 musicalmente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (poco convinto) Il trombettiere del suo battaglione per\u00f2…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io suono la musica, caro lei, non la carica dei Seicento! (esce).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (prendendo il padre sotto il braccio) Vieni, pap\u00e0. E non ci badare. Al mattino, quando deve andare al lavoro, \u00e8 intrattabile… (lo accompagna alla porta).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Ma domani sera venite. Ci conto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Faremo il possibile…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Il signor Demetrio esce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (facendo capolino) Il barometro indicava un peggioramento, infatti…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (rientrando) Sempre la stessa storia. Mai una volta che…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non dirlo a me!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Potresti tentare, almeno, sforzarti…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Sforzarmi, meno che mai!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I due si guardano per un po’ senza parlare. Poi Aurora, rassegnata, torna al suo lavoro di battitura.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (battendo) “Mattina dopo… Esterno. Giorno… In Campo Lungo un reggi… (indugia per andare a capo).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (saltando come un grillo) Un reggiseno! E lo sapevo: non si smentisce mai il vecchio mandrillo!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (paziente) …un reggimento di soldati sfila davanti al palco d’onore…” (si volta verso Ivio) E poi ragiona: che effetto pu\u00f2 fare un reggiseno in Campo Lungo? Neanche si vede.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (imbarazzato) Che ne so io di quelle stronzate l\u00ec! Dov’\u00e8 finito piuttosto, il mio oboe?… Ieri sera lo avevo appoggiato qui. (indica la mensola).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma poi l’hai messo via, nell’armadio. Per evitare che i ragazzi, giocando con la palla…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO L’armadio, \u00e8 vero… (apre l’armadio, fruga, ne estrae l’astuccio dell’oboe, poi sobbalza) Ma… che accidenti… Oh, qui \u00e8 pieno di formiche! Formiche dappertutto!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora, di spalle, attende immobile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E per forza: ci sono tracce di zucchero… (l’assaggia con la punta del dito) Zucchero, proprio cos\u00ec. Come ci \u00e8 arrivato lo zucchero qui dentro, lo sa Iddio… (spaventato) Non ce l’avranno portato loro… le formiche?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (candida) Loro lo portano via.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO S\u00ec, ma da dove lo prendono, allora? (riflette) Dalla cucina, \u00e8 chiaro!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sicura di s\u00e9) E io poi le facevo arrivare fino alla cucina? Dovevo solo essere impazzita. No, l\u00e0 dentro glielo faccio trovare io. (indica l’armadio).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (sbalordito) Tu?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E qualche volta anche Francesco. A mucchietti… a montagnole… distanti dieci, quindici centimetri l’una dall’altra…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (senza fiato) E… perch\u00e9?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ne vanno matte.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Che cavolo di risposta \u00e8 questa?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (incantata) E poi passiamo le ore intere a osservarle. E’ uno spettacolo, sai.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In men che non si dica, si passano la voce… Ma che ci hanno, le radiotrasmittenti?!… e cominciamo ad arrivare… in fila indiana… una dietro l’altra… e senza sgarrare di un millimetro, sai! Ognuna si carica il suo granello di zucchero, gira sui tacchi e se ne torna da dove \u00e8 venuta… Che carine: arrivano che sono nere, e se ne vanno bianche e nere. Sale e pepe, dico io. E Francesco ride… Le risate che si fa!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Per tutta risposta Ivio afferra un asciugamani e infierisce contro le formiche all’interno dell’armadio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (si precipita) No, no! Che ti hanno fatto di male, povere creature di Dio!?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E che volevi, che mi sputassero in faccia? Ci sono, e tanto basta per cacciarle via, per spiaccicarle, per passare l’insetticida.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora, di spalle, piange sommessamente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ecco, ci mancava il piagnisteo!…( le si accosta, sforzandosi di essere calmo) Senti, amore… che ne diresti di cominciare la tua curetta? Quella che fai tutti gli anni in questo periodo… Eh? Quando arriva la primavera siamo tutti messi male… Tu poi, con la casa, i ragazzi, quel lavoro l\u00e0… (indica la macchina).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Quello \u00e8 il meno… Mi tiene distratta…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma devi fare le corse… Alzarti un’ora prima la mattina… Rovinarti la schiena… Ascolta: stasera chiamiamo il professor Perelli e ci facciamo scrivere la ricetta nuova… E cos\u00ec domani mattina cominciamo le punturine…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Te le fai pure tu?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io?… Io non allevo formiche, io. (poi sobbalzando) Oh, Cristo!… Vuoi vedere che…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Hai perso qualcosa?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Solo questo ci manca, e poi per oggi abbiamo fatto il pieno. (va a prendere l’astuccio con l’oboe).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ivio! Ti senti male? Tremi tutto…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO So io perch\u00e9 tremo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Che ti succede?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (aprendo l’astuccio con viva apprensione) Se sono entrate nell’astuccio, sono fottuto!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Calmati. Perch\u00e9 dovevano?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (saltando come un samurai) E invece s\u00ec! Maledette bestiacce! (ad Aurora) E maledetta anche te! Eccone una. (la schiaccia) Porca puttana, \u00e8 rimasta appiccicata al velluto! (prende il cucchiaino dalla tazza del caff\u00e8 e tenta di portar via la formica) Cazzo di Budda, ho macchiato di caff\u00e8 il velluto!… (fatale) Che giornata di merda \u00e8 cominciata!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (con irritante innocenza) Perch\u00e9 dovevano entrare l\u00ec dentro?… Vanno solo dove c’\u00e8 lo zucchero.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Appunto: qui dentro ce n’\u00e8 sempre una bustina. (gliela mostra).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E chi ce l’ha messo?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Perch\u00e9?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (impaziente) Per quando in orchestra mi sento fiacco… Perch\u00e9 quando uno soffia, soffia… non dico le emorroidi… ma gli pu\u00f2 venire un giramento di testa, sai! (avvilito) E ora chiss\u00e0 quante si saranno infilate di dentro, all’interno dello strumento! (solleva i vari pezzi dell’oboe e comincia a controllarli uno per uno).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (con il tono dell’etologo) Io non penso. Non fanno mai viaggi a vuoto. Eh, le conosco bene, ormai!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (trattenendo a stento il suo furore) Ma sta’ zitta!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (ormai come se non lo sentisse) Quella che hai appena trovato si doveva essere persa. Oppure andava in avanscoperta. In tal caso siamo arrivati in tempo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Meglio controllare bene… (comincia a montare il suo strumento avvitando i vari pezzi) Metti che sono nascoste, acquattate all’interno, o in mezzo ai tasti… te l’immagini la scena?… Tutti pronti… il tedesco d\u00e0 il primo attacco… parte l’esecuzione… prima i violini… poi i bassi… poi d\u00e0 l’attacco a me… e io comincio a schizzare formiche sull’orchestra… nelle orecchie dei colleghi… sulle partiture del maestro… nella scollatura di quella gallina dell’arpista…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora non riesce a trattenere una risatina.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (rabbonendosi) S\u00ec, ridi tu… Dovresti piangere, altro che… Cospargerti il capo di cenere…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (in preda ad un incipiente “stranezza”) Ho vuotato la ceneriera un attimo prima di scendere. Che peccato!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (la guarda sorpreso) E’ un modo di dire, stupida! (ha terminato di montare l’oboe, ci soffia dentro, ne estrae alcune note libere) Meno male, lo strumento \u00e8 disabitato. (Si accinge a rismontarlo).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E che fai, hai gi\u00e0 finito?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Perch\u00e9?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Non mi suoni niente?… Lo sai che mi piace…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO S\u00ec \u00e8 proprio il momento! (continua ad armeggiare con l’oboe).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sottovoce) Prima, per\u00f2, lo facevi, ogni tanto…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma che borbotti?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Quello che suoni stamattina, magari… Tu almeno hai il tirassegno, io che svaghi ho?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (le lancia un’occhiata) Beh, d’ora in poi lascio anche questo (l’oboe) nell’armadietto del teatro: qui a casa, per una ragione o per l’altra, non riesco mai a studiare. (sistema i pezzi nell’astuccio, poi si porta al balcone) Eh, il sole s’\u00e8 dato. Il barometro, del resto…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora lo guarda interdetta. Ha perso quasi del tutto la sua iniziale disinvoltura, \u00e8 incerta, si sente goffa, si stringe le braccia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io vado. (guarda l’ora) E mi tocca anche correre… (si avvia verso l’ingresso).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (decisa) Aspetta!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio si arresta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (lo raggiunge) Devi proprio… andare?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (non capisce) Come?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Una volta potresti pure saltare…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Saltare?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Gli mandi a dire, che so… che stai male.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E perch\u00e9?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Sei un essere umano anche tu.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma che dici, che dici!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Telefono io. Tu non ci parli neppure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio, per tutta risposta, fa per andare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (lo trattiene) Non mi lasciare sola! (accorata) Di restare sola oggi proprio non me la sento.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E cos’\u00e8 quest’altra novit\u00e0?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ho… paura.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (comprensivo) Ma di che cosa hai paura, amore?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (si stringe a lui) Quando tu e i ragazzi non ci siete non mi sembra pi\u00f9 casa mia. “Come mai sto qua” mi domando. “E perch\u00e9 proprio qua, proprio in questa casa e non in un’altra, in quella di fronte, o del piano di sopra?”…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Vuoi un consiglio? Mettiti subito a fare qualcosa… batti a macchina… riordina le camere… che ce n’\u00e8 bisogno… E vedrai che non ti vengono pi\u00f9 queste fisime… (fa per andare).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (a freddo) Portami con te, allora.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (bloccandosi di nuovo) Alla prova?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Mi metto in un angolino, zitta e buona.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (taglia corto) Non \u00e8 possibile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Perch\u00e9?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E’ un luogo di lavoro, non un giardino pubblico. Renditi conto, Aurora… Nessuno dei miei colleghi lo ha mai fatto. Mi riderebbero dietro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E glielo dici: “Noi ci amiamo come il primo giorno, e soffriamo a stare separati anche un’ora soltanto”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E poi… E poi il tedesco non vuole nessuno in sala, neanche i tecnici. (calmo) Un’altra volta. Ti prometto che un’altra volta… Ciao! (si avvia deciso).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (portando la voce) Ma che mi deve venire, un cancro, perch\u00e9 tu ti interessi un pochino a me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (si ferma e le si accosta) Stai dicendo una sciocchezza. Lo sai o non lo sai che sta dicendo una sciocchezza?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (dura) Non lo so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Se non lo sai \u00e8 un’altra prova che sei stanca… tirata… Anch’io sono stanco, che credi? Ma sai che faccio? Quando non ne posso pi\u00f9 mi metto a pensare al momento in cui partiamo per il mare. Al montaggio dei portabagagli, alla sistemazione delle valigie… Sar\u00e0 suggestione, ma all’istante mi sento meno fiacco…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Se penso alla vacanza, in questo momento, mi viene l’angoscia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO L’angoscia?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Sempre lo stesso posto, la stessa gente…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E te lo fai uscire adesso? Adesso che abbiamo preso in affitto la casa? Sei incredibile! Posso mai sapere che non sopporti pi\u00f9 le tue amiche?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Io non ho amiche. Mai ne ho avute. A parte le formiche…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Mi pareva ti piacesse chiacchierare con Pina. Cominciate la mattina e finite la sera!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Parla sempre e soltanto dei suoi orgasmi. Non c’\u00e8 verso di cambiare discorso…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (piacevolmente sorpreso) Pina?… Ma pensa!… (dopo un tempo) E tu parlale dei tuoi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Il discorso finirebbe l\u00ec.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (accusando il colpo) Che fai, sfotti? Non \u00e8 aria, bada! (poi cambiando tono, accalorandosi) Ma che cosa ne sai tu delle mortificazioni quotidiane che devo sopportare in quella fossa dei serpenti! Io non te le racconto, la sera. Perch\u00e9 dovrei? Per avvilire anche te? Ecco, prendi per esempio quell’altro tedesco… quel pezzo di merda che \u00e8 stato a dirigere da noi prima di Natale… Dopo aver azzeccato Dio sa quante note, invece di un sol diesis io suono un so naturale… Lui ferma tutto, mi fa un cazziatone in bavarese stretto, e conclude: “Lei, maestro Liberti, con suo corpo possibile fa solo meccanico di auto!” Nella sua testa, capisci, i musicisti dovrebbero essere tutti alti, biondi, con gli occhi azzurri. Bene, dico io. E allora i giapponesi? Cominciamo a eliminare tutti i direttori, i pianisti e i violinisti giapponesi, che ormai a valanga ci vengono a rompere i coglioni in casa nostra! (tira un sospiro alla maniera dei grandi oratori).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (eccitata dal discorso di Ivio) Bravo! Ben detto! Via i musi gialli dal sacro suolo della patria!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (alquanto interdetto) Beh, ora proprio devo andare. Ma torno presto, prestissimo, sta’ tranquilla. E se c’\u00e8 lo straordinario dico che non posso, questo s\u00ec… (esce. Gli sentiamo aprire la porta d’ingresso).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (portando la voce, una voce dura, senza vibrazioni emotive) Quando sarai morto, scordati che ti vengo a fare visita. Neanche il due di novembre! E mi faccio tutti i vestiti a fiori, alla salma tua! (gli fa il tipico gesto dell’avambraccio).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio ricompare sulla soglia. E’ irritato e preoccupato al tempo stesso.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (di spalle a lui, ne avverte la presenza e abbassa la voce di qualche tono) Perch\u00e9 tu muori prima di me, questo \u00e8 certo. Pap\u00e0, come maschio \u00e8 un’eccezione, lo dici pure tu. O forse era proprio la femmina della coppia, e allora, giustamente, \u00e8 morta prima la mamma. Ben le sta!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Lo dai per scontato: io prima di te!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (inflessibile) Non si discute neppure! E poi tu sei particolarmente esposto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soffi in continuazione dentro quel… dentro quel coso… Un bell’enfisema, prima o poi, non te lo leva nessuno.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ti rendi conto di quello che dici? Aurora!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (lanciata) Ma se l’enfisema tarda a venire… tu non funi… tu compensi con la tua prudenza… sfregando tutti i giorni le labbra contro il beccuccio di quel coso, salter\u00e0 fuori una buona volta una cellula pazza, che nel giro di qualche mese…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (deciso) Io non ho mai fatto simili pensieri su di te!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (ridacchiando nervosamente) Mi fai ridere: ogni mattina corri a guardare quell’altro coso l\u00e0… (indica il barometro) Ti metti pure in posa. Come un capitano di lungo corso. manco dovessi attraversare il Pacifico! Ma che lo guardi a fare? Il teatro sta a quattro isolati dal nostro portone…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ognuno ha le sue manie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma io ho capito perch\u00e9 guardi sempre quel coso: non vuoi rischiare una bronchite. Non lo guardare pi\u00f9, senti che ti dico. Tanto la morte ti arriver\u00e0 addosso da tutta un’altra parte.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (poggia a terra l’astuccio) La morte, la mia morte… Ma da dove cazzo spunta fuori questo fatto della mia morte… stamattina… cos\u00ec bell’e buono?!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (tira dritto) E io non lascio passare neanche una settimana, e mi riposo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Vuoi sapere con chi? \u00c8 il tuo ultimo desiderio? Beh, non si nega l’ultimo desiderio a un condannato a morte. Col dottor Guerrini. Con quel vecchio, zozzone, porco mandrillo… e magari pure frocio… del dottor Guerrini! E lui viene a stabilirsi qui, in questa casa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (interdetto) Basta! Tu ora la smetti. Ogni bel gioco, come si dice…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E non la cambio, la disposizione dei mobili, non ci sperare! Neanche in camera da letto. Tutto come prima. Solo tu sottoterra e lui al tuo posto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (digrigna i denti) Aurora… Aurora, io ti… io ti rompo la faccia, se non la smetti…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E visto che siamo in tema, sai perch\u00e9 il dottor Guerrini non sale mai a ritirare il lavoro fino a qua sopra? Gliel’ho proibito io. Una volta che sal\u00ec… tu non eri in casa… e neanche i ragazzi… mi salt\u00f2 addosso con un desiderio… una foga… che un giovane di venti anni ci metterebbe la firma! E senza usare corni di rinoceronte!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (mutando la rabbia in disprezzo) Tu sei una povera pazza! Per te ci vuole il ricovero, altro che curetta! Non mi fai rabbia, guarda, non mi fai neanche un po’ di rabbia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Te la faccio, invece, te la faccio…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Pena s\u00ec, e pure tanta!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (continua imperterrita) E allora quella volta gli dissi: “Da oggi in poi scendo io, Aurelio”. Perch\u00e9 si chiama Aurelio, sai? Anche il suo nome, come il mio, comincia par “A”. abbiamo le stesse iniziali. Quando le faremo ricamare sugli asciugamani, sai che confusione! (Ride spiritata) Ma tra due che si amano veramente non esiste pi\u00f9 l’asciugamano mio, l’asciugamano tuo… “Scendo io, da oggi in poi! Tu Aurelio, hai il sangue troppo caldo!”. Anzi, salgo. S\u00ec, proprio cos\u00ec: ora ci incontriamo nel lavatoio, dopo l’ultima rampa di scale. Non \u00e8 comodo come a letto, ma \u00e8 tanto meno rischioso. Se tu torni all’improvviso… e non mi trovi… io ti dico che sono salita un momento a stendere i panni in terrazza, e tu ci credi. “Mani d’oro”, lui mi dice. Per forza: non disponendo di un letto, ci dobbiamo arrangiare in qualche modo… Ma quando c’\u00e8 il sentimento \u00e8 bello lo stesso.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (andando verso di lei) Sta zitta, puttana!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA A questo punto non ti sto a dire quale altra cosa d’oro lui sostiene che io posseggo…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio le molla un ceffone. Aurora barcolla, ma senza emettere fiato. Poi passano a picchiarsi, a scambiarsi spinte e schiaffi, con stizza ma stancamente, senza vitalit\u00e0. Quando infine si staccano:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (interdetto, imbarazzato, si gratta in testa, guarda l’orologio, non sa che fare; poi) Cristo, la prova!… (torna dove ha lasciato l’astuccio, lo riprende, si volta verso Aurora, rimasta immobile) Facciamo finta che non hai parlato. Io non ho sentito niente. Tu non hai aperto bocca, che cosa devo sentire? (minaccioso) Stasera, per\u00f2, mi ripeterai parola per parola le mostruosit\u00e0 che hai appena finito di sputare da quella bocca. E stasera decider\u00f2 se devo credere a tutto, o soltanto a una parte, o non credere a niente. A stasera, “amore”!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(esce… sentiamo la porta aprirsi).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (rimasta sola in scena, con una risata molto forzata) Ma a che cosa vuoi credere, “tesoro”?! Ti ho riempito di balle! Tanto per divertirmi un po’. E potevi divertirti anche tu. Ma no, tu sei serio, tu sei sempre cos\u00ec serio!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Si sente sbattere la porta d’ingresso.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E mai una volta che mi dicesse: “Aurora, come sei brava!… Aurora, che mani d’oro!…”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scoppia in una risata impudente, che dura alcuni secondi, poi via via si attenua fino a spegnersi del tutto. Un tuono in lontananza la fa sobbalzare. Aurora si gira attorno nella stanza vuota. Non sa da dove cominciare ad organizzare la sua solitudine. Ma, passando accanto alla poltrona, nota i due pattini a rotelle, uno accanto all’altro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (con infantile sorpresa) Uh! E io cercavo l’altro dappertutto… E invece stanno tutti e due qui… insieme… vicini… come marito e moglie… Eh, \u00e8 proprio vero che gli oggetti hanno un’anima. Si vede che si sono chiamati! Non potevano stare soli, separati, uno da una parte, l’altro dell’altra… (si siede ad osservare i pattini) I pattini di Francesco! (confronta uno dei due pattini con la sua scarpa, verifica che sono della stessa misura, e se ne infila prima uno, poi l’altro) Dio mio, saranno almeno trent’anni che non ci provo…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nell’ambiente deserto e immerso nel silenzio, Aurora, prima con evidente impaccio, poi con crescente disinvoltura, si abbandona a quell’antico gioco. Per quel tanto che la scena glielo consente, la donna volteggia, procede spedita, si arresta, tenta divertita una figura che molto alla lontana ricorda il “volo dell’angelo”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Quando squilla il citofono sulle prime Aurora non lo sente: \u00e8 troppo lontana con la testa, persa com’\u00e8 in quell’angolo remoto della sua infanzia. Il citofono suona sempre pi\u00f9 insistente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (riavendosi dal suo incanto e precipitandosi a rispondere) Il dottor Guerrini! Ges\u00f9 mio, non ho finito… non posso consegnargli niente… (alza il ricevitore) Chi \u00e8? (pausa) Ivio! Sei gi\u00e0 tornato? Ma che ore sono?! (pausa) Ah! (pausa) Le chiavi dell’armadietto, ho capito. (pausa) No, non ti faccio perdere tempo, non aver paura… E sai, ho deciso: da oggi in poi sar\u00f2 pi\u00f9 breve, ma tanto brava, che non avrai pi\u00f9 la minima ragione per lamentarti di me… (pausa) S\u00ec. s\u00ec. e senti: se poi a parole lo vorrai riconoscere che sono brava, se non lo vorrai riconoscere… fa esattamente lo stesso. Lo sentir\u00f2 da me, e tanto basta. (Pausa) S\u00ec, le chiavi, ho capito. Corro. (fa per lasciare il citofono, poi) Ah, senti Ivio… mi vesto prima… Si, se no tu dici che nel palazzo mi vedono in disordine. No, sta tranquillo, due secondi ci metto. E da ora in poi Lilla e Francesco voglio che siano tutti tuoi. Anche Francesco. Miei, neppure un poco! Vado!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora, sempre in pattini, posa il ricevitore del citofono e si dirige verso la camera da letto. Attraversando la scena, si libera della vestaglia, poi si rende conto di avere ancora i pattini ai piedi, se li sfila e li appoggia frettolosamente sul tavolino del televisore. Uno dei pattini scivola sul ripiano e urta contro l’interruttore accendendo l’apparecchio. Parte un documentario sulla natura, che ha per commento un tema musicale per oboe solo. Aurora, senza farci caso, esce in direzione della sua camera.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SPEAKER TV …Queste immagini, carpite al segreto dei boschi e dei laghi finlandesi del naturalista inglese Attemborough, ci mostrano – come mai era stato fatto prima d’ora – i goffi tentativi di un “pulcino”… diciamo cos\u00ec… che per la prima volta prende confidenza con il volo… Il tutto, come potete osservare, sotto lo sguardo vigile di mamma cicogna… Noterete come fatica il cicognino… Infatti non dispone ancora delle penne remiganti…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nelle pause dello speaker si ha modo di sentire il tema dell’oboe. Aurora rientra abbottonandosi il vestito, e con l’aria tranquilla di chi non ha nulla di urgente da fare. In tale stato d’animo si siede davanti al televisore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (intenerita) Quanto \u00e8 caruccio!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SPEAKER TV …Ma la natura ha previsto tutto. E quando la sua attrezzatura alare sar\u00e0 completata… come vedete in quest’altra sequenza… al cicognino baster\u00e0 un qualunque stimolo… come il voler seguire la madre… o anche semplice curiosit\u00e0 di vedere cosa c’\u00e8 fuori dal nido… per fargli vincere la paura residua… e spiccare il primo volo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Il citofono torna a suonare pi\u00f9 imperioso di prima. Aurora si batte la fronte, corre ad un cassetto, cerca le chiavi, le trova, torna a risponderea al citofono.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Eccomi qua. Te le porto: E senti, ho pensato a Pina, quest’estate, le racconto la storia dei giapponesi, che fa tanto ridere. (pausa) No, no, non te le posso gettare. (ispirata, guardando le chiavi) Sono di cristallo. Se non le afferri vanno a terra e si fanno in mille pezzi. E poi te la prendi con me… (pausa) Non ti preoccupare, ci penso io. Mentre lo speaker continua a parlare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SPEAKER TV Ecco, questa sembrerebbe la volta buona.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora apre la finestra, e sempre con le chiavi in mano…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (guarda verso l’alto) E’ tornato il sole. Meno male. (poi guarda verso il basso) Amore, eccoti le chiavi! (e si lancia nel vuoto).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SPEAKER TV Evviva! Mamma cicogna guarda soddisfatta: anche questa nidiata \u00e8 pronta per andare incontro alla vita.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sale il tema dell’oboe…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SIPARIO<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SECONDO TEMPO<\/p>\n\n\n\n

La Scena, nell’impianto, \u00e8 la stessa del Primo tempo, ma se ne discosta per alcuni particolari: non si vedono in giro giocattoli, all’altezza della prima quinta spicca un aggeggio da ginnastica rieducativa (magari un vogatore), e la libreria (prima spoglia) ora \u00e8 zeppa di volumi. Al levarsi del sipario, esattamente come all’inizio del Primo tempo, una chiave gira nella toppa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Qualche istante pi\u00f9 tardi entra in scena il signor Demetrio. E’ ben rasato, pi\u00f9 agile, meno lagnoso. Ha con s\u00e9 alcune buste della spesa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (posando le buste sul tavolo) Puntuale all’appello! (va al barometro) Pressione in rialzo. Tendente al bello. (verso l’interno) Tendente al bello, hai sentito? Oggi possiamo fare la nostra brava passeggiata senza paura di bagnarci. (sempre sistemando la spesa sul tavolo) E vedrai che anche l’umore migliorer\u00e0. (esperto) I tuoi scatti di nervi… l’ho chiesto a tutti, gi\u00f9 dal macellaio… Un solo verdetto: colpa del tempo! Ma diciamo la verit\u00e0: in casa per cinque giorni filati… Eh, s\u00ec: Proprio cinque! Oggi \u00e8 mercoled\u00ec, l’ultima uscita l’abbiamo fatta… (consulta il blocchetto) Venerd\u00ec… cinque giorni tondi tondi sempre tra quattro pareti, non una boccata di aria fresca… D’altra parte, se piove, noi altri, bene o male… possiamo affrettare il passo… scantonare… bagnarci meno. Ma tu… (andando verso la cucina) Ah, sai passando davanti alla farmacia qui all’angolo… che tiene sempre in vetrina delle cose straordinarie… ho visto l’ultimo modello di sedia a rotelle della “Salus”: “Via col vento”, si chiama. Mi sono fatto dare il d\u00e9pliant. Poi ce lo studiamo con calma… (esce).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In perfetto sincronismo, dall’altro lato della scena entra, su una comune sedia a rotelle, Ivio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

E’ lui la persona invalida a cui Demetrio si rivolgeva, Ivio punta, non senza qualche difficolt\u00e0, verso la parete del barometro, lo osserva, poi:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (tra s\u00e9) Tendente al bello: Dio cane!… (portando la voce) Finch\u00e9 non segna “bello stabile” non caccio il naso fuori di casa! Scordatevelo!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Perch\u00e9?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO L’ultima volta ho rischiato di morire affogato.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Per qualche goccia di pioggia? Esagerato!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO La conosce, signor Demetrio, la grotta del cane?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (comparendo sulla soglia) Del cane di chi?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO “La grotta del cane”, si chiama cos\u00ec.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Non si pu\u00f2 conoscere tutto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non importa, glielo spiego io. Si tratta di una caverna dove un certo gas velenoso, pi\u00f9 pesante dell’aria, ristagna fino a un’altezza di trenta, quaranta centimetri. Per cui, gli uomini sopravvivono, e i cani ci restano.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO E questo che c’entra con la pioggia?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Se fuori fa un metro d’acqua, voi altri sopravvivete, e io ci resto!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Ma deve venire il diluvio universale!… Se ci fosse questo rischio io insisterei per portarti fuori, secondo te?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (secco) S\u00ec.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (scuotendo il capo) Ti fai ogni giorno pi\u00f9 acido. Questo non \u00e8 carino.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ah, sono d’accordo. Ma invitiamo qualcuno a passare un annetto col sederino su una sediolina a rotelle, con la piccola prospettiva di andare avanti cos\u00ec per tutta la sua esistenzina, e vediamo se non diventa anche lui un po’ cattivino.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Ti butti troppo gi\u00f9. Del resto, ti sei sempre buttato gi\u00f9.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io mai, lo giuro! Sua figlia l’ha fatto, una volta, signor suocero. Addosso a me!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (scuote il capo) E fai male prima di tutto a te. Ma conosco io la maniera di tirarti su il morale. (indica i pacchetti rimasti sulla tavola).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Riviste porno, videocassette hard core?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Tacchino. Petti di tacchino. Da fare con vino e salvia. Una squisitezza!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO La salvia mi resta sullo stomaco. Che, nella mia attuale posizione, \u00e8 come dire all’altezza delle ginocchia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (non lo ascolta) E per contorno pisellini con la pancetta e cavolini di Bruxelles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ho i cavolini miei, grazie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Manger\u00f2 anch’io con te. per dimostrarti che la mia cucina \u00e8 nutriente senza risultare pesante.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Mi spieghi questo mistero, signor Demetrio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Potresti chiamarmi pap\u00e0, qualche volta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (sottolineando) “Signor Demetrio”. Prima lei sembrava un rudere, un ospedale ambulante. E adesso…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO \u00c8 vero. Da qualche tempo sto meglio, parecchio meglio…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Da quando sto male io.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Non \u00e8 vero!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Le date corrispondono.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO E’ sadismo, il tuo! Sputi veleno in ogni direzione. Io ti sono sinceramente affezionato. Ora poi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ora poi che il cavallo \u00e8 rientrato nella stalla zoppo di tutt’e due le gambe… quale migliore occasione per rendersi utili?…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO I cavalli zoppi si sopprimono.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO \u00c8 vero. Ma una volta soppressi non soddisfano pi\u00f9 le smanie assistenziali dello stalliere. (pausa) Voglio essere pagato!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Pagato?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E in contanti pure. Io, caro suocero, le fornisco l’occasione di interpretare la parte di madre Teresa di Calcutta… senza andare a sbattere in India… Se non ha danaro suo, vada in giro a raccoglierne.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Vado a mettere il tacchino nel forno.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Nel forno ci si metta lei, sia gentile!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Dovresti avere pi\u00f9 rispetto per la mia et\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E lei per le mie condizioni di par\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Par\u00e0?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Paraplegico uguale par\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (tornando indietro di qualche passo) \u00c8 vero: ci sono persone chiuse in se stesse, persone incapaci di far altro che non sia il proprio esclusivo interesse. Ma per fortuna… e la natura in questo \u00e8 esemplare…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio sbuffa impaziente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO …accanto agli egoisti… o meglio di fronte, ci sono gli altruisti. (si indica).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Altruista lei ?… Lei \u00e8 guarito da tutti i suoi acciacchi e malanni?… Lei \u00e8 tanto altruista che se non fosse successo quello che \u00e8 successo le avrebbe tentate tutte perch\u00e9 succedesse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (scantona) Ti faccio la barba.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Se la faccia lei.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Io me la sono fatta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E gi\u00e0, lei ora se la fa ogni giorno!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (insiste) Non puoi uscire con la barba di cinque giorni.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Esiste uno specifico divieto?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO No, ma…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Lo proibisce la legge sugli storpi?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO E lasciatela l\u00ec, che vuoi che ti dica! Della tua faccia il padrone sei tu.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Soltanto della mia faccia, questo \u00e8 il punto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (lascia tutto) No, tu cos\u00ec non puoi andare avanti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (che \u00e8 contro il tavolo) Ma posso sempre andare indietro. Voil\u00e0! (e con le ruote si sposta all’indietro di qualche metro).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (con abile mossa prende una sedia e lo blocca contro la parete sedendogli davanti) A costo di ripetermi, io ti devo dire quello che penso di te.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (irriducibile) Poi ci cambiamo di posto, e io le dico quello che penso di lei.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (paterno) Ivio!… Ivio, cerca di toglierti di dosso questa rabbia feroce!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non \u00e8 semplice… Fino alla maglia intima, da solo, con qualche contorsionismo, ce la posso fare…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (desolato) Ivio, ti prego…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma gi\u00e0 per i calzoni, lei lo sa, ho bisogno di essere sollevato da qualcun altro… Con la rabbia ci vuole quantomeno un infermiere specializzato, che mi faccia un clistere particolare… S\u00ec, perch\u00e9 non l’ho mai detto a nessuno, ma io la rabbia ce l’ho qui nella pancia. Ne caco un tratto ogni mattina.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ma la rabbia… guarda un po’ la vita!… \u00e8 fatta a forma di tenia, di verme solitario. Se non ne caco la testa, si riforma e l\u00e0 rimane… Almeno finch\u00e9… (fa un’espressione vagamente allusiva).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (allarmato) Finch\u00e9?…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio non risponde. Demetrio corre all’armadietto e si mette a cercare qualcosa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Acqua, acqua signor suocero…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Che vuoi dire?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Se sta cercando la pistola… se lo ha promesso ad Aurora… \u00e8 fuori strada.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (falso) Io non cercavo niente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma lo volete capire che \u00e8 sparita?! Rubata, qualcuno l’avr\u00e0 rubata.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Demetrio non \u00e8 convinto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Sospetta che io voglia puntarla contro quella tenia? Ma andiamo1… Sarebbe come sparare dal buco di una serratura: scarse possibilit\u00e0 di far centro, e la certezza di rovinare la porta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (siede a cavalcioni sulle sue gambe) Ivio!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ah!… Ma che diavolo fa? Scenda gi\u00f9!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (pi\u00f9 forte, con la furia del missionario) Ivio, perdio!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO La vettura \u00e8 al completo, non lo vede? Scenda!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Tu ora stai zitto e lasci parlare me!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (lamentandosi) Le mie gambe!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (prende tempo) Quando sposai la madre di Aurora… donna eccezionale!… non perch\u00e9 sia stata mia moglie… e Dio le avr\u00e0 assegnato in cielo il posto che spetta… quando me la sposai, ti stavo dicendo… e, dopo la luna di miele, cominci\u00f2 anche per noi la routine quotidiana, io mi trovai pressappoco nelle tue stesse condizioni.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Anche sua moglie le si butt\u00f2 addosso dal terza piano? Ma \u00e8 un fatto ereditario!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Mi trovai a dover affrontare una prova altrettanto difficile, una di quelle prove che la vita ti pone dinanzi per vedere se sei in grado di sopravvivere, o non \u00e8 meglio che lasci il posto a chi ha le spalle pi\u00f9 solide delle tue. Ebbene, io con la forza di volont\u00e0 superai quella prova. (assume il tono delle grandi narrazioni) Tutto accadde una mattina, la prima, la seconda… ora non ricordo… Io sto a letto, e lei accanto a me. Suonano alla porta, io mi sveglio, e lei, che evidentemente si \u00e8 svegliata prima di me, mi sta fissando. Ricambio quello sguardo teso. Risuonano alla porta: il lattaio, non c’\u00e8 dubbio. I nostri occhi sono chiodi conficcati in due pareti, l’una parallela all’altra. E i nostri sguardi due corde tese, legate a quei chiodi e…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (tagliando corto) Vi guardavate fisso, ho capito.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (sempre con lo stesso tono) Suonano la terza volta!… E qui lei rompe il silenzio… Ma lo fa con una voce tranquilla, bisogna dire… una voce che appare in netto contrasto con l’intensit\u00e0 di quel braccio di ferro che stavamo conducendo con gli occhi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E il lattaio sempre l\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (senza badargli) Lei rompe il silenzio e mi fa. “La porta. Chi va ad aprirla?” Segue un altro silenzio…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Un altro? E il lattaio?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Ma lascia perdere il lattaio! Segue un altro silenzio, ancora pi\u00f9 lungo dei precedenti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Astronomico, da misurare in anni luce. (poi ritenendo di aver esagerato) Si fa per dire. Tieni conto che l’anno luce \u00e8…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (con voce strozzata dal peso dell’altro) Vuole andare avanti, s\u00ec o no?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Un silenzio lunghissimo, al termine del quella io avevo bell’e capito che se noi due volevamo andare d’amore e d’accordo, di aprire la porta al lattaio, la mattina, avrei dovuto farmene carico io. Come pure della casa, della spesa, della cucina… Che donna, quella Matilde!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (dopo un tempo) E me lo viene a raccontare come esempio di forza di volont\u00e0, signor suocero? Ma lei non aspettava altro! Lei, caro padre di mia moglie, se non spignatta in cucina e non spigola ai supermercati, non prove quella che volgarmente viene definita “Joie de vivre”. (pausa) Io no! Io avevo un’arte. Nelle mani e nel cuore. E l’ho perduta con l’uso delle gambe. (con amaro sarcasmo) Un’arte superiore che se ne va con i due arti inferiori: ma che vuoi sperare dalla vita?!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Non puoi suonare l’oboe, \u00e8 vero… Per quanto, in orchestra seduto stavi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (urlando) L’oboe non si suona col culo, si suona con i polmoni! E io in questa posizione non ho neanche il fiato per spegnere le candeline sulla torta, negli anniversari del mio azzoppamento. Perch\u00e9 la torta una volta all’anno me la far\u00e0, questa piccola gioia annuale a un povero par\u00e0… ormai tagliato fuori dai piaceri del…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (a tempo) E io qua ti volevo! Il vittimismo \u00e8 il tuo vero male. Perch\u00e9 non hai accettato l’offerta del Teatro?… Non puoi suonare, ma potevi sempre sbrigare qualche pratica in amministrazione. O fare il centralinista. Ti avrebbe dato uno scopo, la forza di reagire alla sventura che…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io e il Teatro ci siamo guardati fissi negli occhi… E qui sorvolo sulle espressioni geometriche e sui silenzi astronomici… Dico solo che alla fine ho capito. Non avevo altra scelta: mettermi a riposo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Per vivere da parassita.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non su di lei, suocero. Semmai, \u00e8 lei a vivere su di me. E pure da troppo tempo! Scenda, che sto per diventare cianotico!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (spietato) Chiamami pap\u00e0. Se non mi chiami pap\u00e0 non scendo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (calmo) Vada a fare in culo, “pap\u00e0”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (con eleganza da gentleman, smontando da quell’inconsueta posizione) Sei incorreggibile. Ma non importa: tutto rimandato alla prossima occasione. La passeggiata, per\u00f2 quella non viene rimandata. Si fa adesso, e basta!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Demetrio va ad un armadio, tira fuori due plaids per Ivio: uno glielo accomoda con cura sulle ginocchia, l’altro (munito di un buco al centro) glielo infila, ma senza difficolt\u00e0, a mo’ di poncho.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (prestandosi di malavoglia, e mentre cerca di riemergere da quella cappa di stoffa) Emiliano Zapata gambizzato dalle “Brigate Familiari”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO L’aria della strada ti far\u00e0 bene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO L’aria della strada? La volta scorsa, per andare a salutare quello stronzo di amico suo… quel colonnello a riposo… lei mi ha lasciato a venti centimetri dallo scappamento di un camion col motore acceso!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Hai le ruote e le braccia: potevi spostarti. No, sei rimasto l\u00ec, immobile, a berti con volutt\u00e0 quel nero di seppia…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Tutto mi pu\u00f2 far comodo nello stato in cui sono. Anche un tumore ai polmoni.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (sospingendolo verso l’uscita) Vieni, su… Questa volta ci fermeremo ai giardini.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Fra tutti quei bambini in carrozzina? Far\u00f2 la figura del ripetente!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Va bene. Sarai tu a dire dove vuoi essere portato. Giocheremo a “capitano e pilota”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (con finto entusiasmo) S\u00ec, s\u00ec: avanti a dritta!… Indietro tutta!… Prendiamo con noi anche il barometro?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Si sente la chiave girare dentro la toppa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (da fuori scena) Entro in battuta!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma hai sbagliato. Non \u00e8 il Can Can di Hoffenbach., bens\u00ec il Requiem di Verdi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA L’umore di sempre, a quanto pare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Compare sulla soglia. \u00c8 un’altra donna rispetto al Primo tempo: sicura, avvenente, vestita alla moda, perfino pi\u00f9 alta. Ha con s\u00e9 un bustone da sartoria e una busta da servizio fotografico.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Aurora!… Quando sei rientrata?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Stamattina. Col primo volo. (posa da qualche parte il bustone e le foto). Il tempo di passare in sartoria, e dal fotografo a ritirare un servizio fotografico.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Credevo fossero cassette porno. Ho bisogno di idee nuove. La mia fantasia \u00e8… come dire… in ginocchio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (tollerante) Ivio, da bravo, non cominciare…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Com’era Londra?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Un cielo azzurro… sembrava di essere a Tangeri.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Non se ne capisce pi\u00f9 niente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Dove stavate andando?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO A passeggio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Lascia, pap\u00e0. Ce lo porto io.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Sarai stanca dal viaggio…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cominciano a palleggiarsi la sedia a rotelle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Non mi pesa, ti dico.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Niente da fare: tu riposati!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma pap\u00e0, sono venuta in aereo. E non guidavo io.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Non insistere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E’ mio marito, alla fin fine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO E’ mio genero, se la metti cos\u00ec.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (riprendendo il governo della carrozzella, e allontanandosi) Non si va da nessuna parte! Se, oltretutto, serviva per non farmi sporcare in casa… come si fa con i barboncini… fatica sprecata. Mi avete sballonzolato in quel modo… ho mollato tutto. E ora sono felicemente fradicio dei miei pi\u00f9 selezionati prodotti viscerali.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Padre e figlia si guardano interdetti: poi Demetrio, pi\u00f9 tempista:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (con spirito dia crocerossina) A cambiarlo ci penso io. (alla figlia) Non lo facevo anche con te, quando eri in fasce?… Tu, semmai, badi ai petti di tacchino nel forno… (porta via Ivio).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (lasciandosi portare) Evviva!… Ora si gioca con la cacca!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (girandosi attorno) Sbrigatevi, per\u00f2. Ho un paio di telefonate urgenti da fare… (va all’apparecchio, fa per sollevare il ricevitore, quando il telefono squilla da solo) Pronto!… (pausa) S\u00ec, Aura Liberty in persona: (pausa) Ah, pensi, la stavo chiamando io. Proprio in questo momento. (nauseata per l’ovviet\u00e0) Telepatia, la parola giusta. (a parte) Mai qualcuno che dicesse “combinazione”! (al ricevitore) Bene, e la risposta dell’agenzia sovietica? (pausa) E allora lei gli sbatta sul grugno che Aura Liberty se ne frega dei mercati dell’Est… O accettano settanta e trenta, o non se ne fa niente. Settanta per me, sia chiaro. Il mio libro tira su tutti gli altri mercati… il settanta, o niente libro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (passando) Dove sono le canotte di lana?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (gli indica un cassetto, poi all’apparecchio) Va bene, aspetto la risposta definitiva. (pausa) No, a questo numero mi trova ancora per un’ora. Nel primo pomeriggio sono al 2374291, dalle diciotto in poi al 9417325, in serata al mio numero di casa. Ricevo amici, stasera (pausa) Bye! (appoggia).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Demetrio ha trovato la canotta e sta richiudendo il cassetto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (da fuori scena) E allora?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (affrettandosi) Arrivo!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (come sopra) Prima della fine dell’inverno, suocerino. Altrimenti non occorre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Demetrio e Aurora si scambiano il solito sguardo di pazienza.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Dai a me. Il pasticcio l’ho combinato io…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Ancora con i tuoi sensi di colpa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma no, pap\u00e0… dicevo cos\u00ec per dire…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO E poi tu hai cose pi\u00f9 importanti di cui occuparti. E lui lo sa, e come!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Dici?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Perch\u00e9 si sarebbe messo a riposo, se no?… Come si dice: finch\u00e9 Pantalone paga…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Per soffrire, soffre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Soffre e fa soffrire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (sempre da fuori) Allora, come avete deciso di eliminarmi? Di polmonite?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Demetrio esce con la canotta.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (al telefono compila il numero, poi) Universal Company? Mi passi il direttore (pausa) Aura Liberty. (pausa, poi rabbiosa) Liberty, e non Lib\u00e8rti, signorina! Con la ipsilon finale. Come lo stile floreale dei palazzi, dei mobili, delle lampade… (pausa) Pretendo il direttore, non una parola di pi\u00f9! (pausa, poi tra s\u00e9) Meno faticano, pi\u00f9 sono arroganti, le stronzette!… (recupera un tono mondano e professionale) Ah, \u00e8 lei direttore? (pausa) E che vuole, sempre la solita storia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(pausa) Ma no, no, lasci perdere: l’ho gi\u00e0 strapazzata abbastanza io.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Allora, questa risposta dalla MGB? (pausa) Per fine aprile… Mi lasci pensare un attimo… S\u00ec, s\u00ec diciamo che si pu\u00f2 fare. (pausa) E la sceneggiatura definitiva entro ottobre, esatto.(pausa) Ah, si ricordi: nei titoli deve figurare “collaborazione ai dialoghi di Aurelio Guerrini)”. (pausa) In testa? No, in coda, in coda. E’ un vecchio rincoglionito, detto fra noi ma non mi \u00e8 del tutto inutile… Mi corregge i dattiloscritti, per esempio. Lei conosce le dattilografe… C’\u00e8 il tipo stupido, che copia “sulla banchina a conservare” invece di “sulla panchina a conversare”. E c’\u00e8 il tipo stupido e presuntuoso, e io scrivo Pentesilea, e lei pensa bene di correggermi e batte “Lea si pente”. (pausa) No, no, di soldi parli lei direttore. Tanto lo sa, al di sotto della cifra che abbiamo chiesto, dal mio libro il film non si fa. Glielo faccia capire bene. A presto. (Caccia fuori l’agenda e depenna le due telefonate) Questa \u00e8 fatta… e questa pure \u00e8 fatta!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Un fumo preoccupante viene dalla cucina. Sulla soglia appare Demetrio che ha finito di accudire Ivio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (indicando la cucina) Ma l\u00ec sta bruciando tutto! (esce).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (calma) E a me lo dici?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (riappare, disperato) I petti di tacchino!… Potevi buttarci un occhio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Soltanto per gli affari miei non me ne bastano due.(sottovoce, misteriosa) Quella cosa, piuttosto?…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Quale cosa?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora indica l’armadio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (capisce) Niente, niente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma hai controllato bene?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Niente, ti dico. (pausa) E ora che cosa gli do per pranzo?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Per lui un piatto vale l’altro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Ti sbagli. Meno si \u00e8 in grado di condurre una vita normale, pi\u00f9 ci si attacca alle piccole gioie della gola… (torna in cucina).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (consultando l’agenda) Che altro c’era da fare stamattina?… Oh, Cristo!… L’intervista a Teledonna!… (consulta l’ora) Sta per cominciare, se non \u00e8 gi\u00e0 cominciata! (va al televisore che \u00e8 sempre di spalle al pubblico, lo accende, cerca il canale).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Parte la voce di uno speaker donna.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER (in corsa) … Liberty, che voi tutte conoscete per il suo romanzo “Formiche con le ali”, che da ben cinque settimane \u00e8 in testa alla classifica dei libri pi\u00f9 venduti in Italia… Aura, posso darti del tu, vero?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA Devi!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rientra il padre dalla cucina.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (eccitatissimo) Ci sei tu?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora annuisce e gli fa cenno di tacere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER So che stai per partire per Londra, \u00e8 cos\u00ec?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA Ho l’aereo alle 17,20.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER E credi che anche il “Formiche con le ali” sar\u00e0 accolto con entusiasmo?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA Non credo, ne sono sicura. E’ un “best” gi\u00e0 in mezza Europa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sulla soglia appare Ivio, e dalla sua sedia a rotelle si dispone, non visto, ad ascoltare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER Non voglio rubarti del tempo prezioso, Aura. Ma un’altra domanda te la devo fare. Come \u00e8 iniziata la tua carriera letteraria?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA E’ presto detto. (sicura) Fin da bambina… scrivevo racconti, impressioni, elzeviri…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Demetrio fa per contestare, ma Aurora lo blocca.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA …Tutto quanto stimolava la mia albeggiante fantasia… Diciamo che era uno sfogo personalissimo… un bisogno dell’anima. E questo fino alle soglie della maturit\u00e0. Poi sposai un musicista…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER L’uomo a cui sei ancora felicemente unita, se non sbaglio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA Non sbagli.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio non resiste a starsene in disparte e viene a completare il quadretto familiare, portandosi accanto ad Aurora. Aurora, da questo punto in poi, apparir\u00e0 chiaramente a disagio. (N.B. l’intervista, nel frattempo, \u00e8 andata avanti).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA …Un virtuoso di oboe… che girava il mondo come solista… E suonava anche in orchestra, come tanti altri virtuosi, del resto… I direttori tedeschi si rifiutavano di dirigere se nell’orchestra non c’era lui…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (le prende il telecomando) Permetti? (e alza l’audio).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA Accanto ad un uomo cos\u00ec importante, che potevo fare se non la donna di casa, l’angelo del focolare?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora gli porta via il telecomando e riabbassa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER (evidentemente al pubblico) E questo, amiche, in una societ\u00e0 fondata sull’egoismo, diciamolo, \u00e8 una virt\u00f9 che non ha prezzo. (enfatica) Un bell’applauso per Aura Liberty!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Si ode uno scrosciante applauso. Ivio, dal vivo, si unisce all’entusiasmo generale. Aurora appare in netta difficolt\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER E cos\u00ec sei diventata una formica operosa, una formica senza le ali…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA S\u00ec, le mie “Formiche con le ali” nascono anche da l\u00ec. Ma procediamo per ordine… Sul pi\u00f9 bello, mio marito contrae uno strano male… Un virus che gli attacca gli arti inferiori… E lo immobilizza su una sedia a rotelle. Con mio marito in quello stato, e i medici che andavano e venivano… e i ricoveri in cliniche nazionali ed estere… capirete che il denaro non bastava pi\u00f9. Venduta una propriet\u00e0 di campagna del mio pap\u00e0…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Hai venduto la casa di Sacrofano?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (a Demetrio) Silenzio! Se non vuole ascoltare vada fuori!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA …e alcune gioie appartenute alla mia bisnonna paterna… Una Liberty di Cassano… Marchesa di Castrovillari…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora tenta ancora di spegnere il televisore, ma non ci riesce, bloccata prontamente da Ivio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA … Sono stata costretta a… mercificare… s\u00ec, mercificare \u00e8 la parola giusta! Quella che era e rimane un’esigenza dello spirito.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Applauso del pubblico presente in Tv:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER Un’ultimissima domanda. Progetti, novit\u00e0 in vista?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA Ho gi\u00e0 messo mano a un nuovo romanzo. E poi sta per uscire la traduzione in russo di “Formiche con le ali”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER Che in quella lingua suona come?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE AURORA “Krylatye muravi\u00e8i”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

VOCE SPEAKER Pensate, telespettatrici e pubblico dello studio… La nostra Aura Liberty tra breve andr\u00e0 ad affiancare nelle librerie russe Tolstoi, Dostoevskij, Cecov…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Applausi scroscianti dello studio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (spegnendo) Questa \u00e8 proprio la fine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Segue un imbarazzante silenzio. Poi:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Sembrava tutto vero. (Si rende conto della gaffe fatta) Io… torno in cucina.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Demetrio scompare nella cucina.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (rimasto solo con Aurora) Marchesa di Castrovillari!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (impacciata) Credi che mi diverta? E’ la mia agente che vuole cos\u00ec. E’ lei che cura la mia immagine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (con pungente ironia) Sono soltanto molto curioso di sapere come se la caveranno i russi con quel “geniale” gioco di parole “fornicaio-formicaio”. No, perch\u00e9 il senso pi\u00f9 profondo del libro \u00e8 tutto l\u00ec, mi hanno detto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Sei diventato spiritoso, non c’\u00e8 che dire, da quando…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Eh s\u00ec, man mano che si affinano i muscoli delle gambe si affina anche lo spirito, pare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (con finta ammirazione) Propriet\u00e0 di linguaggio, tempismo, e furore vendicativo. Come sei cambiato, Ivio!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Tu no, tu immutabile nel tempo! (le lancia la maglia intima che s’\u00e8 appena tolto) Come una canotta di pura lana vergine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora l’afferra al volo e la va a sistemare tra i panni sporchi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (riflessivo) Sono cambiato, certamente. Ora passo il tempo a leggere… (indica i libri nello scaffale) E le letture aprono la mente… Salvo rare eccezioni concernenti le formiche alate, che aprono ben altro!… La mia mente, poi, aveva addirittura bisogno di essere scardinata. Quindici anni e pi\u00f9 a contatto di gomito con altri orchestrali…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (dalla cucina) Ci siamo!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (pragmatica) S\u00ec, ma adesso finiamola di beccarci, che sta arrivando il pranzetto che ti ha fatto pap\u00e0. D’accordo, amore? (gli d\u00e0 un bacio sulla fronte).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ah che bello! Ancora, ancora! Ma scendi pi\u00f9 sotto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (come ad un bambino) Dopo. Prima mangia la pappa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (giocando sull’assonanza) La pappa di pap\u00e0 p\u00e0ppatela tu, pupattola.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E’ buona. Lui in cucina \u00e8 un mago, lo sai.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Una maga, dirai! Ma non si lava le mani.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Se le lava.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ha appena finito di nettarmi il culo, e non se l’\u00e8 lavate. Mangia, mangia: i pasti sporchi si mangiano in famiglia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sul punto di scattare) Anche tu appartieni alla famiglia, caro. Troppo comodo farsi mantenere, e poi rinnegare ogni legame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Da chi mi farei mantenere, io?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Da me, tanto per cominciare. (tira fuori un libretto di assegni) Di questi, per le tue spese, ne stacco un paio al giorno.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (volutamente lacrimoso) Non per volont\u00e0 mia sono finito, signori, in questo misero stato! “Fate la carit\u00e0!… Ridotto in queste doglie… da sua moglie!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ancora lo stesso motivetto?!… Ancora?!… Non puoi ricattarmi tutta la vita, non \u00e8 giusto, non \u00e8 giusto! Io mi gettai di sotto, \u00e8 vero. Ma tu perch\u00e9 cercasti di afferrarmi?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Avevi con te le chiavi dell’armadietto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E allora?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (freddo) Quando le chiavi sbattono a terra, si spuntano e non aprono pi\u00f9.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (perde il controllo) Mi fai schifo! Tu e il tuo cinismo da quattro soldi!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Possiamo sempre divorziare. Io sono pronto. Tu no. La tua immagine!… Poi che gli racconti alla gente, da quella scatola! (indica la Tv).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (fremendo) E sai che penso? Che tu, quella volta, ti sei “eroicamente” gettato avanti con una precisa intenzione: rimanere storpio. Quando la mattina andavi a lavorare avevi la faccia di chi va al patibolo… Campare mantenuto dagli altri \u00e8 sempre stata la tua segreta aspirazione, questa \u00e8 la verit\u00e0. Quando io mi spezzavo la spina dorsale su una macchina da scrivere… tu facevi la recita del geloso, questo ti limitavi a fare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Hai la faccia tosta di sostenere che non protestavo?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA A parole. Tu sei nato con la mentalit\u00e0 del magnaccia. E la fatalit\u00e0 ti ha fornito l’occasione di esserlo anche nei fatti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E tu? Tu che sfrutti il cattivo gusto della gente. L’ignoranza, la volgarit\u00e0 di quest’epoca di merda, tu non lo sei? Tu che ti stai facendo un impero sul bisogno di stronzate che oggi \u00e8 diventato la vera droga del nostro tempo?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Fatti fottere!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (insinuante) D\u00e0i, che siamo magnaccia tutti e due.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Fatti fottere!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Con la differenza che io rappresento il tipo vecchio, non pi\u00f9 in commercio… Il tipo che ci rimette di suo… un poco ogni giorno… (si tocca le gambe) Un tipo in estinzione… Ti facevano tanto pena i rinoceronti, versavi fiumi di lacrime per quei bestioni ormai ridotti ai minimi termini, potresti versarne una anche per me, che sono quantomeno dimezzato.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Entra Demetrio col carrello portavivande.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Si mangia!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (lo blocca) Fermo l\u00e0! (a Ivio) Ti piace giocare allo storpio? Gli storpi, nelle corti rinascimentali, dovevano divertire i potenti, se volevano mangiare. (va all’armadio, ne estrae l’oboe e glielo porge) Il pranzo \u00e8 l\u00e0 che aspetta. Ma prima suona qualcosa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Vuoi scherzare!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Mai stata pi\u00f9 seria! Su! (insiste porgendogli lo strumento) Avanti!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (dolorosamente a disagio) E’ tanto che non tocco quell’arnese…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E torni a toccarlo per me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Pi\u00f9 tardi, semmai…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Adesso!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (ricordando) Aveva ragione quel direttore d’orchestra tedesco: I musicisti devono essere alti, biondi e con gli occhi azzurri…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA La musica non si deve vedere, ma sentire. Suona!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (cercando di mediare) Aurora!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (stizzoso) Aura, signor suocero. Aurora \u00e8 morta. L’ho uccisa io (ride istericamente).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (indignata) Tu adesso suoni! Quella suonata che ti chiedevo sempre, e che non mi suonavi mai.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO La “suonata” sei tu. Sonata, si dice!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Mai una volta che tu me la facessi sentire!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E cos\u00ec sar\u00e0 adesso.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Adesso i rapporti sono leggermente cambiati, e…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Ma Aurora! …Aura…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Se no resti digiuno! E non soltanto per oggi. D’ora in poi te li dovrai guadagnare, i tuoi pasti!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (con quel poco di autorit\u00e0 che riesce ad esprimere) Ma insomma, la finite ragazzi?!… Aurora, anche tu!… (poi rivelando il suo vero interesse) Si fredda tutto, e diventa immangiabile. E uno ha fatto tanta fatica, e si deve pure sentire le critiche… “\u00e8 scotta, \u00e8 salata…”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (dopo un tempo) Ma s\u00ec, fallo mangiare. Colpa mia, che perdo la testa come un’idiota… (e va allo specchio a ritoccarsi le sopracciglia).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (in direzione di Ivio, sospingendo il carrello) Si mangia!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Bene! (andandogli incontro) E poi si fa tanta cacca… E si gioca a pallette… E lei, suocero, fa da bersaglio! Non sparo pi\u00f9, ma la mira, quella, ce l’ho ancora buona…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Il carrello e la carrozzella malauguratamente entrano in collisione.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sospendendo il trucco) Via, via, pap\u00e0, faccio io. Tra voi due non so chi ha pi\u00f9 bisogno di essere assistito…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (mortificato) Ma io… se lui non… tu lo vedi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Vuoi renderti ugualmente utile? (estrae dalla borsa alcuni conti correnti) Va gi\u00f9 alla posta. Questi sono i conti correnti per le tasse scolastiche di Lilla e Francesco… E i versamenti per la governante… E qui ci sono i soldi… (gli consegna un mazzetto di banconote, poi a Ivio) E tu adesso mangi e non fai capricci, vero?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Quanto tempo mi dai?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Perch\u00e9?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Per regolarmi se masticare o ingoiare direttamente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ti do l’impressione di andare di fretta?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Come se te ne fossi gi\u00e0 andata.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ti sbagli. (poi si accorge di avere la borsa a tracolla, e la posa) Mi aspettano. Mangia tranquillo, su!… (gli lega al collo la salvietta).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Allora io vado. Guardate che ai piselli va aggiunto un pizzico di sale… (esce).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (disponendosi a mangiare) A proposito, come sta Lilla?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Lilla? Beh, Lilla lo sai, si occupa soltanto di quello che la riguarda direttamente… che le fa pi\u00f9 comodo…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Mica scema! (dolente) Potrebbe venirmi a trovare, qualche volta, per\u00f2!… Sono pi\u00f9 di due mesi che non si fa vedere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E’ fatta cos\u00ec. Del resto tu l’hai sempre difesa. Di che ti lamenti adesso?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma s\u00ec, ma s\u00ec… Facesse quello che vuole…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Segue un lungo silenzio, durante il quale Ivio mangia docilmente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E di Francesco, di Francesco non mi chiedi niente?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (senza entusiasmo) Francesco? …S\u00ec, certo… Come sta?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (illuminandosi) Ah, Francesco!… Francesco, lui \u00e8 diverso, lo sai… Giorni fa ha visto una trasmissione sul Sahel, e la sete, e il deserto che avanza… era sconvolto! Ha un potere di immedesimarsi, di farsi carico delle sofferenze dell’umanit\u00e0… (imboccando Ivio) E non c’\u00e8 ingiustizia… che non lo turbi fina alle lacrime. Gli occhi gli si arrossano… un istante dopo, due goccioloni gli scorrono gi\u00f9 per le guance!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (masticando) E’ diventato frocio? Ho capito.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA L’hai sempre amato poco, quel ragazzo l\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Del resto in famiglia i cromosomi ci sono: vedi il nonno materno…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (non gli bada) Come se io lo avessi avuto da un altro uomo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Errato! Proprio perch\u00e9 l’hai avuto da me, e non mi rassomiglia neanche un po’, ci sformo tanto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Buon per lui se non ti rassomiglia. Io ne sono fiera!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E allora lo prendesse nel culo, non sono fatti miei.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma va, va, pensa a mangiare. (e con rabbia gli ingolla un’altra cucchiaiata di cibo).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (deglutendo a fatica) Se mi facessi vedere pi\u00f9 spesso anche Francesco… saprei come orientarlo a dovere! Un paio di pornocassette, che so io… e non gli resterebbe nessun dubbio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(poi, dopo un altro boccone) No, no, meglio a casa tua… lasciamolo dove sta… Meglio! Un padre sciancato non ha molto da insegnare a un figlio nella “corsa al successo”… (guardando fisso avanti) E sai… quelle pornocassette… Le rare volte che me le guardo non mi fanno pi\u00f9 nessun effetto speciale, anzi… I primi tempi avevo come degli sbandamenti, degli spaventosi soprassalti di “nostalgia”… Ora non mi fanno pi\u00f9 n\u00e9 caldo n\u00e9 freddo… Come se mi venissero da un altro mondo… un mondo in cui non ho mai abitato… Fantascienza, ecco: se penso al sesso, mi sembra un racconto di fantascienza.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (riprende ad imboccarlo, anche per uscire dall’imbarazzo) Sono buoni, i pisellini. Su, un altro boccone e li abbiamo fatti fuori tutti.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non ne posso pi\u00f9!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA L’ultimo cucchiaio… (prova a sforzarlo)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (ad arte si sottrae) Ahi, me n’\u00e8 caduto uno addosso!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Dove? Non mi pare…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Mi macchier\u00e0 tutto! (finge di cercarlo).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Guarda che ti sbagli.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Tuo padre dovr\u00e0 cambiarmi di nuovo. Due volte nel giro di un’ora… per l’amor di Dio!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Non lo vedo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (armeggiando) Pi\u00f9 sotto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Fermo tu, lascia fare a me. (gli fruga in grembo)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (afferrandole la mano e comprimendosela tra le cosce) Ti trovi, renditi utile in modo pi\u00f9 completo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (cerca di divincolarsi) Lasciami la mano!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Una fame vale l’altra.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Porco!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma come? Eri nota per avere le “mani d’oro”?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Porco e bugiardo! Hai appena finito di dire…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO “Mani d’oro” non era questo lo slogan con cui Guerrini ti imponeva sul mercato?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Fossi stata pi\u00f9 pesante, t’avrei schiacciata al suolo, quella volta l\u00e0! Come una rana!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Fossi stato meno stronzo, mi sarei riparato sotto la tettoia. Come quando piove.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (riesce a liberare la mano dalla morsa, ma il piatto si rovescia in terra) Ecco! Che hai ottenuto?… Che abbiamo fatto un troiaio. (indica il pavimento) E oltretutto, resterai digiuno.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Quanto la fai lunga… per un po’ di fantascienza!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Che scena rivoltante!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO S’\u00e8 rivoltato solo un piatto, tutto qui.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora si allontana indispettita.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Oh, ma insomma, perch\u00e9 vieni qui? Rispondi! Per provvedere ai miei bisogni? E allora stabilisco io quali bisogni vengono prima.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Scordatelo!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io, per nove decimi ci riesco. (alludendo al suo sesso) E’ quel decimo che non ne vuole sapere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Allora sfoglia le pagine gialle. Ci sono persone che fanno questo di professione. Poi mi presenti il conto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Preferisco il buon vecchio artigianato dei nostri tempi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (guarda in terra, sgomenta) Guarda che hai combinato!… (controlla l’ora) E io che ho gi\u00e0 mezz’ora di ritardo… Devo portare le foto in agenzia… E pap\u00e0 che non arriva!… Dove sta la scopa?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Lascia perdere, io ho sbagliato, io rimedio. (si butta dalla carrozzella) Con la lingua…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (girandosi di scatto) Ivio!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (leccando il pavimento) E che fai, non ridi? Un principe rinascimentale si sarebbe sbellicato. (strisciando sul pavimento) Di’, non sembro una foca? E allora com’\u00e8 che la Bardot non difende anche me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sinceramente premurosa, accorrendo) Ivio, perch\u00e9, perch\u00e9 ti comporti cos\u00ec? Rendi tutto estremamente pi\u00f9 difficile. (fa grossi sforzi per rimetterlo sulla sedia).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Facile non lo sar\u00e0 mai pi\u00f9.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (infine riesce a rimetterlo sulla sedia) Domani. Domani telefono allo psicologo. Riprendi la terapia. Stavi meglio quando veniva, e chiacchieravate un poco.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Lo psicologo no! Ti prego!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Che hai contro di lui?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Mi vuole impedire di farmi del male. E’ l’ultimo piacere che mi resta, e lui me lo vuole togliere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Anzi no, lo chiamo stasera da casa. (segnando l’appunto sulla sua agenda) Va bene per dopodomani alle tre? (al tentativo di obiezione di Ivio) Va bene, va bene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio non insiste oltre nel suo rifiuto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ora vado (prende la borsa). Tanto, pap\u00e0 non pu\u00f2 tardare. Lascio qui questo pacco. C’\u00e8 dentro un vestito. Mi impiccerebbe. Passo a prenderlo domani. (si avvia).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (accorato) Aurora!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sulla soglia) Che c’\u00e8?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non andare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Dove?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Dove devi andare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E perch\u00e9?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Oggi non voglio restare solo. Non ce la faccio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (a disagio) Ho un appuntamento che non posso rimandare. Che sono questi capricci proprio oggi?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (sincero) Non lo so. Ma sento che oggi potrei farmi pi\u00f9 male del solito.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Dai, non scherzare! A domani… (fa per andare).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Portami con te, allora.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Un’altra volta. Oggi proprio non \u00e8 possibile. Un’altra volta… (\u00e8 fuori scena).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Aurora!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Si sente aprire la porta d’ingresso.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (portando la voce) Ieri ho oliato bene bene la mia pistola.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sobbalza) La pistola del tirassegno?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (conferma) Hm… hm…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma se avevi detto che…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO No, non me l’hanno rubata. E poi chi avrebbe potuto farlo? Qui non viene mai nessuno.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Sicch\u00e9 hai mentito!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Dai che lo sapevi! Altrimenti non lasciavi al tuo babbino il compito di rovesciare la casa… Ci ho passato sopra tutto il pomeriggio. L’ho smontata, oliata, rimontata… Funziona perfettamente, ora.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (richiude la porta e riappare, tesa, angosciata) Perch\u00e9 me l’hai detto? IVIO (finto ingenuo) Ho fatto male?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Per ricattarmi ancora di pi\u00f9, \u00e8 semplice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ricattarti? Ma perch\u00e9 la prendi in questo modo? Ti ho raccontato come ho passato il pomeriggio di ieri.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Non te lo avevo chiesto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Avresti dovuto. Per educazione, se non altro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Dove l’hai nascosta? (la cerca) Dove la tieni, avanti!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (giocando ad acqua e fuoco) Acqua!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora continua a cercare la pistola.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Sempre pi\u00f9 acqua!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora cambia completamente direzione.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ora sei proprio in mare aperto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma poi come hai fatto a trovarla?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ipocriti! Se volevate che non la trovassi perch\u00e9 l’avete lasciata in questa casa?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (a met\u00e0 fra la rabbia e lo sconforto) Sicch\u00e9 tu addirittura pensi che noi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io non penso: cerco e trovo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Dammi quella pistola!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non temere, n\u00e9 far\u00f2 buon uso.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (angosciata) Ecco, ora mi fai andar via con un patema in pi\u00f9. Come se ne avessi pochi!… (poi riflettendo) Un momento! Chi l’ha presa da lass\u00f9? (indica il punto pi\u00f9 alto della libreria).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Che cosa?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA La pistola. Io l’avevo nascosta sull’ultima mensola. (inquisitoria) Chi te l’ha presa da lass\u00f9?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E’ una questione tanto vitale?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Tu non arrivi oltre il terzo scaffale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (a mal partito) Me l’ha presa tuo padre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E’ salito sullo scaletto?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Sullo scaletto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma se soffre di vertigini a stare in piedi?! Ivio, guardami negli occhi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio le punta lo sguardo sui piedi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Negli occhi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio esegue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(dura) Qua sopra, quando non ci siamo n\u00e9 io n\u00e9 pap\u00e0, sale qualcuno.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (con provocazione) Perch\u00e9 non “qualcuna”?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA E chi?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Prova a indovinare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Una mignotta!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Brava! Hai fatto centro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (schifata) E poi reciti la commedia dell’abbandonato, del relitto umano, dell’astinente tormentato dai morsi della carne!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (si gode il successo) Sei gelosa? Eppure, poco fa, sei stata tu a suggerirmi il rimedio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ora che mi ci fai pensare… qualche volta, entrando ho avvertito un profumo forte… uno di quei profumi da sirena del marciapiede.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ti preoccupi che aumentino le spese di gestione del povero pap\u00e0? Non temere, le ritaglierei sempre dalla mia modesta pensione.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Se proprio lo vuoi sapere, non solo non mi preoccupo, ma mi \u00e8 anche passata l’angoscia che avevo. Uno che si organizza le sue seratine non \u00e8 cos\u00ec disperato come vuol dare ad intendere. (si avvia) A domani, caro!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (portando la voce) Dalla finestra l’ho rimorchiata!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurora si blocca.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Vuoi sapere tutta la verit\u00e0? E io te la dico. (indica la finestra) Da quella finestra l\u00ec. AURORA Non me ne frega un tubo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non \u00e8 una mignotta, \u00e8 una casalinga assatanata. Le prime volte io mi aprivo la lampo dei pantaloni, e lei col binocolo si godeva lo spettacolo. Una formica con le ali, di quelle che tu, nel tuo libro, hai descritto cos\u00ec bene… Poi quel rapporto “platonico” ha avuto il suo sbocco naturale. Abita due piani sopra di noi, dall’altra scala. Scende quando il marito va in ufficio. Passa per il terrazzo, cos\u00ec, se il marito ritorna all’improvviso, lei dice che \u00e8 stata su a stendere i panni, e lui ci crede.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Bastardo! Tu e quella puttana l\u00ec, ammesso che esista…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ti risenti? Ma se \u00e8 il genere di donna su cui hai costruito la tua seconda vita! AURORA Stronzo! Maledetto stronzo in carrozza.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (con una risatina isterica) Stronzo in carrozza! Bellissimo! Come la mozzarella!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Chiavi nella toppa. Rientra Demetrio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (fuori scena) Ah, si ride? Bene. Che vi state dicendo di bello?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Tante cose, paparino di mia moglie. Venga, venga, che le diciamo anche a lei.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (entrando) Che avete combinato?! (avvilito) Tutto il pavimento lercio… i miei pisellini!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Potevi fare prima, pap\u00e0. Quanto tempo ci hai messo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (aulico) Ha fretta. Il secolo ha bisogno di lei.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (scusandosi) Quanto tempo… quanto tempo… Alla posta di quaggi\u00f9 c’era una fila incredibile. Sono dovuto andare all’altra…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (vincendo l’ultimo imbarazzo) Allora io scappo…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Vai a piedi, o vuoi la mia carrozza?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (non raccoglie) Torno quando posso.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ti aspetto come posso.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (indugia, poi decisa al padre) Pap\u00e0, ti dispiace lasciarci ancora un attimo soli?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (sparendo in cucina) Benedetti ragazzi!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (prende una sedia e gli si siede accanto. Tace un istante, poi comincia con voce pacata) Un collezionista di conchiglie un giorno acquist\u00f2 per pochi spiccioli una conchiglia rarissima, strappandola quasi alle mani di un ragazzetto del tutto all’oscuro del tesoro che aveva appena pescato. La conchiglia, pi\u00f9 tardi ammirata da tutti, fece la fortuna del collezionista, che in virt\u00f9 di quel possesso divent\u00f2 ricco e famoso. Il ragazzo, invece, mor\u00ec di stenti e di miseria ancora prima di diventare uomo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio la osserva curioso di sapere dove vuole andare a parare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Passarono alcuni anni… Una sera il collezionista, solo davanti alla sua collezione, fu preso dall’irresistibile desiderio di tirar fuori quel pezzo rarissimo per risentire come il mare risuonava nel suo guscio vuoto. ma appena l’ebbe accostato all’orecchio la bestiolina rimasta acquattata l\u00ec dentro, e miracolosamente sopravvissuta tutti quegli anni, sgusci\u00f2 fuori fulminea, e and\u00f2 a mangiargli il cervello. (Aurora tace, e intanto osserva l’effetto delle sue parole sull’altro).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (dopo un tempo) Ma che cazzo fai, mi racconti le favolette, adesso? Mi hai preso per una delle tue lettrici affamate di cattiva letteratura?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Io volevo soltanto spiegarti che…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Bella parabola, non c’\u00e8 che dire. Degne dei Vangeli! Purtroppo in questa stanza manca il lago Tiberiade. Ma se mi fai bere tre o quattro birre, te lo faccio io in poco e niente.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Non bestemmiare!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Sei tu che bestemmi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Io?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Tu, tu! Dire stronzate \u00e8 bestemmiare contro l’intelligenza.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sforzandosi di tornare calma) E va bene, sono cambiata, diversa, niente a che fare con l’Aurora di prima. E’ vero, \u00e8 tutto vero. Ma una persona che…( cercando le parole) che ha desiderato… e ha tentato quella cosa l\u00ec… e si risveglia viva… e sana… in tutte le parti del corpo!.. o alla prima occasione ci riprova… due, tre, dieci volte… finch\u00e9 non ci riesce… o si costruisce una corazza intorno al cuore… o meglio uno scafandro… e, cos\u00ec attrezzata, si immerge tra la gente per vincere. Io ho scelto la seconda soluzione. Non piango. Mi hai visto piangere? …Durante il giorno, bada! La notte, puntualmente, sogno di piangere. E nel sonno piango veramente. E la mattina il mio cuscino \u00e8 bagnato fradicio!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (dopo un tempo) A me, la mattina, \u00e8 fradicio il materasso. Siamo due incontinenti. Hai chiesto in farmacia se c’\u00e8 un tipo di pannolone per gli occhi? Te lo infili a cappuccio…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (sui nervi) Ivio! (sforzandosi di ritrovare in s\u00e9 un’antica dolcezza) Ivio, amore!, se soltanto una volta tu riconoscessi che quella mattina…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (calmo) Quale mattina?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Quella mattina l\u00ec… (dopo un tempo) Se tu ammettessi, non solo con me… anche con te stesso… che quella volta ti gettasti per afferrarmi…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO …Che cosa cambierebbe?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Che forse potremmo ritrovarci… ricominciare tutto da capo… (disperata) Ivio!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (ha un attimo di cedimento) Aurora, io…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (gli va idealmente incontro) S\u00ec, Ivio, s\u00ec…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (con uno sforzo che gli costa molto) Per le chiavi mi gettai, per le chiavi! Te lo devo giurare? Su cosa, sulla mia sedia a rotelle? (solenne) Giuro su questo nobile mezzo di locomozione… che quella mattina volevo solo salvare le chiavi, e nient’altro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (deglutisce la bile che le \u00e8 salita alla gola, si ricompone e, dopo avergli lanciato un’occhiata tagliente come un laser) Bene. Quello che dovevamo dirci ce lo siamo detti. L’argomento \u00e8 chiuso, murato. Quanto a me, non lo riaprir\u00f2 mai pi\u00f9. (chiamando) Pap\u00e0! (si avvia e incrocia il padre che porta con s\u00e9 la scopa… dopo uno sguardo alla stanza): A domani. (esce)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (candido, cominciando a spazzare) Ah, ragazzi ragazzi! Non vi si pu\u00f2 lasciare soli un momento!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (allusivo) Beh, in confidenza, testa di suocero, ne abbiamo combinato di belle!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (mettendo quelle parole in relazione col pavimento) Lo vedo, lo vedo!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ma no, dicevo in un altro senso. (gli fa cenno di accostarsi) Se avesse anticipato la sua entrata di… qualche minuto, diciamo… avrebbe assistito a una scena “toccante”. (afflitto) Poi, purtroppo, non se n’\u00e8 fatto niente. (riflette) Si potrebbe riprovare, per\u00f2… Con qualche surrogato, magari… Lei poco fa ha detto che sono in buone mani… (lo previene) No, no, non mi fraintenda, non sono sceso tanto in basso. Ho ancora le mie esigenze… estetiche… (si spinge fino al punto in cui Aurora ha lasciato la busta della sartoria).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO E quello che cos’\u00e8?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (estraendo il vestito dalla busta) Un vestito di Aurora. A occhio e croce, dovrebbe essere la sua taglia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (non capisce) Beh, se lo sar\u00e0 provato, spero…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Sua di lei, suocero. (lo confronta con la statura del suocero) Le dispiace indossarlo? Per me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Io dovrei indossare quel vestito?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio annuisce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO E perch\u00e9?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Ne ho bisogno per l’esercizio che andr\u00f2 ad eseguire. A volte, sa, la fantasia inceppa… (va a chiudere le tendine: l’ambiente risulta in penombra) Non riesco a pensare a niente che rassomigli anche lontanamente a una donna, a volte… (getta un panno su un’altra fonte luminosa: ora c’\u00e8 un’atmosfera da incontro galante) E io ho bisogno di un’immagine femminile, se no la scena “toccante” non mi viene bene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (afflitto) Oh no!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Oh s\u00ec, invece! Diamoci da fare, su!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Non ci contare. (ma resta come ipnotizzato dalla situazione).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Allora?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Queste sono cose da marinai…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Faremo a meno della divisa, pazienza.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Da marinai in alto mare…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Perch\u00e9, lei vede la riva? Io no. (sventolando l’abito di Aurora) Ma andiamo, sia sincero: lei non aspetta occasione migliore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Parla per te!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E’ una vita che l’aspetta. Lo confessi!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO La tua infermit\u00e0 \u00e8 nella testa, non nelle gambe…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (persuasivo) La cosa non uscir\u00e0 da queste mura, stia tranquillo. Chi potrebbe diffondere la novella, io?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Chiamo il neurologo…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Io sono impedito. Non sono il pi\u00f9 adatto a correre in giro… a fare da messaggero alato. E poi chi darebbe ascolto a un povero “par\u00e0”?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Lo chiamo, e ti faccio dare un calmante.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (seducente, indicando il vestito) Il modello \u00e8 uno schianto, il colore le dona…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Una cura di iniezioni. L’elettroshock, se occorre…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Su, che a volte basta un passo, un passettino… e ci si ritrova finalmente faccia a faccia con la propria verit\u00e0.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (penoso) Sono vecchio. Malato per giunta. Soffro di vertigini… Per non parlare di tutto il resto!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non \u00e8 mai troppo tardi!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Ti prego, ti scongiuro, abbi un briciolo di piet\u00e0! Sono troppo vecchio per queste cose… ormai…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I due restano a lungo uno davanti all’altro. Nel silenzio Ivio continua a tentare Demetrio mostrandogli l’abito da tutte le parti. Demetrio, alla fine, cede e, timidamente, si infila il vestito di Aurora.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Oh, ci siamo!… (e raggiunge una zona d’ombra).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ora Demetrio \u00e8 al centro della scena, goffo, immobile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Che fa, il manichino? Crede di essere al museo delle cere? Muoversi! Girare… Vita, sangue, lussuria!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Quanto deve durare questo strazio?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Se fa bene la parte, qualche minuto. Altrimenti, non c’\u00e8 limite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Per compassione, lo faccio. Sia chiaro! Non per altro.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO A buon rendere. Ma ci metta pi\u00f9 temperamento, pi\u00f9 anima! Che cazzo!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (prova qualche passo molleggiato) Va bene cos\u00ec?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Di pi\u00f9, di pi\u00f9!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Non sono capace!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Non \u00e8 vero. La stoffa c’\u00e8. Vada su e gi\u00f9, e vedr\u00e0 che le viene sempre pi\u00f9 naturale…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Parto da qui, o vuoi che ti faccia pure l’entrata?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Da qui, da l\u00ec, da dove vuole. Basta che stia zitto! Mi distrae, se parla.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Demetrio tenta una squallida passerella.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Pi\u00f9 mignotta, pi\u00f9 mignotta!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (calcando di pi\u00f9 l’andatura, intona una canzone) “Noi siam come le lucciole…”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO E adesso che fa, canta?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO Poteva aiutarti…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Cammini soltanto, per Dio!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Demetrio riprende ad ancheggiare per la scena. Chiave nella toppa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (da fuori scena) Sono io. Ho dimenticato le foto… (entrando) Che testa scombi… (rimane un istante attonita poi ) Pap\u00e0!…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (cercando di liberarsi del vestito) Aurora… io…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Ma che succede, pap\u00e0?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (pronto) Pap\u00e0 e mamma. Ne paghi uno e ne porti via due.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (piagnucolando) E’ tutta colpa sua. Ti giuro, Aurora! Io non volevo… Aurora, imbarazzatissima, va ad aprire le tende.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (come sopra) Si \u00e8 messo nelle orecchie, insisteva, insisteva… aveva gli occhi da fare paura… Un diavolo, ti dico! Io sono vecchio, malato… Ho l’artritismo deformante, qui alle mani… e la notte non digerisco, guarda la lingua, guarda… (ma non la mostra) E anche prima, quando era viva Matilde… tua madre… sapessi che inferno \u00e8 stata la mia vita… Sempre comandato a bacchetta… sempre le stesse accuse… “non hai polso, non hai polso…” E voleva guidare sempre lei. “Tu ti fai sorpassare da tutti quanti” diceva. Che donna terribile! E io… Io… (scoppia a singhiozzare).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (a Ivio) Sei un essere immondo, schifoso… Sei un verme, un lombrico… lo sputo di un sifilitico!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (serafico) Calma. Sedetevi e discutiamo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA Cosa vuoi discutere?! Con i pazzi non si discute.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO La solita guastafeste! Tuo padre cominciava a fare progressi. Alla sua et\u00e0, quando gli capita pi\u00f9 un’occasione simile?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (affannando) Lo vedi? Continua! (isterico) Fallo smettere, Aurora, fallo smettere!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (prende le foto, ripone il vestito nella busta e tirandosi via il padre) Vieni, lasciamolo rivoltarsi nella merda, ch\u00e9 quello \u00e8 il suo posto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO Aspettate!… Discutiamo, vi dico…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEMETRIO (sempre piagnucolando) E io che stamattina ero venuto con gioia… Volevo mostrargli il d\u00e9pliant della nuova carrozzella… modello “Via col vento”… Ero disposto a regalargliene met\u00e0…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AURORA (continuando a tirarselo via) Vieni, pap\u00e0, vieni, andiamo via di qui…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ivio con mossa fulminea, estrae la pistola e spara prima alle ginocchia di Demetrio (che si accascia su una sedia) e immediatamente dopo a quelle di Aurora (che crolla a sedere sul divanetto). I due, gemendo, si comprimono le ginocchia con le mani.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IVIO (calmo, di quella calma che sanno esprimere soltanto coloro che hanno cancellato ogni confine tra ragione e follia) Bene. Ora che siamo tutti e tre seduti, possiamo cominciare a discutere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Buio, a segnare un passaggio di tempo.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dopo qualche secondo di buio, la scena – sempre la stessa, ma questa volta senza attori – comincia a rivivere in virt\u00f9 della palpitante luce di un candeliere (acceso in camera da letto) che filtra attraverso la porta aperta. Da questa porta un attimo dopo Aurora, su una sedia a rotelle, entra recando in mano il candeliere. Dall’altra quinta il signor Demetrio, anche lui su una sedia a rotelle, entra portando un leggio, che poi colloca al centro della scena. Con abile mossa di ruote Aurora gli si accosta e sistema il candeliere in modo da far luce sul leggio. Con i tempi di un balletto a rotelle, nel frattempo il signor Demetrio \u00e8 andato a prendere una partitura, e ora viene a collocarla con molta cura sul leggio. Messa a punto ogni cosa, padre e figlia vanno a sistemarsi al lato della scena. Solo ora entra Ivio sulla terza sedia a rotelle (N.B. le tre sedie porteranno ben leggibile il nome del modello “Via col vento”). Ivio ha in mano il suo oboe. Il signor Demetrio e Aurora applaudono sorridenti. Ivio, anch’egli sorridente, risponde all’applauso con un composto movimento in gi\u00f9 del capo.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I due spettatori si passano un foglio che ha tutta l’aria di essere un programma. Ivio porta l’oboe alle labbra, rimane un istante immobile ad occhi chiusi, poi attacca a suonare.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

SIPARIO<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Author’s Preface For the record, I have no fondness for prefaces, nor for those false variations known these days as “introductory notes”. This attitude, I should add, is especially pronounced when, after comparing signatures, with or without a magnifying glass, it turns out that the author of the preface and the author being prefaced are […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[42],"class_list":["post-17722","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-testi","tag-manliosantanelli"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17722","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=17722"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17722\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17723,"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17722\/revisions\/17723"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=17722"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=17722"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teatronapoletano.centroictbc.unisa.it\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=17722"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}