Three Plays Part 19

JOHN (_shouting after them_). Close the door there, and hide the key! That other door too. (_Pointing to the other door on right_).

JOHN (_to the two valets_). Be off, you two! There (_pointing to exit right_)! Close the door after you, and hide the key!

(_The two valets go out by the first door on right. John moves over to the left to show in: Donna Matilda Spina, the young Marchioness Frida, Dr. Dionysius Genoni, the Baron t.i.to Belcredi and the young Marquis Charles Di Nolli, who, as master of the house, enters last._)

DONNA MATILDA SPINA _is about_ 45, _still handsome, although there are too patent signs of her attempts to remedy the ravages of time with make-up. Her head is thus rather like a Walkyrie. This facial make-up contrasts with her beautiful sad mouth. A widow for many years, she now has as her friend the Baron t.i.to Belcredi, whom neither she nor anyone else takes seriously--at least so it would appear._

_What_ t.i.tO BELCREDI _really is for her at bottom, he alone knows; and he is, therefore, ent.i.tled to laugh, if his friend feels the need of pretending not to know. He can always laugh at the jests which the beautiful Marchioness makes with the others at his expense. He is slim, prematurely gray, and younger than she is. His head is bird-like in shape. He would be a very vivacious person, if his ductile agility (which among other things makes him a redoubtable swordsman) were not enclosed in a sheath of Arab-like laziness, which is revealed in his strange, nasal drawn-out voice._

FRIDA, _the daughter of the Marchioness is_ 19. _She is sad; because her imperious and too beautiful mother puts her in the shade, and provokes facile gossip against her daughter as well as against herself. Fortunately for her, she is engaged to the Marquis Charles Di Nolli._

CHARLES DI NOLLI _is a stiff young man, very indulgent towards others, but sure of himself for what he amounts to in the world. He is worried about all the responsibilities which he believes weigh on him. He is dressed in deep mourning for the recent death of his mother._

DR. DIONYSIUS GENONI _has a bold rubicund Satyr-like face, prominent eyes, a pointed beard (which is silvery and s.h.i.+ny) and elegant manners. He is nearly bald. All enter in a state of perturbation, almost as if afraid, and all (except Di Nolli) looking curiously about the room. At first, they speak sotto voce._

DI NOLLI (_to John_). Have you given the orders properly?

JOHN. Yes, my Lord; don't be anxious about that.

BELCREDI. Ah, magnificent! magnificent!

DOCTOR. How extremely interesting! Even in the surroundings his raving madness--is perfectly taken into account!

DONNA MATILDA (_glancing round for her portrait, discovers it, and goes up close to it_). Ah! Here it is! (_Going back to admire it, while mixed emotions stir within her_). Yes ... yes ... (_Calls her daughter Frida_).

FRIDA. Ah, your portrait!

DONNA MATILDA. No, no ... look again; it's you, not I, there!

DI NOLLI. Yes, it's quite true. I told you so, I....

DONNA MATILDA. But I would never have believed it! (_Shaking as if with a chili_). What a strange feeling it gives one!

(_Then looking at her daughter_). Frida, what's the matter?

(_She pulls her to her side, and slips an arm round her waist_). Come: don't you see yourself in me there?

FRIDA. Well, I really....

DONNA MATILDA. Don't you think so? Don't you, really?

(_Turning to Belcredi_). Look at it, t.i.to! Speak up, man!

BELCREDI (_without looking_). Ah, no! I shan't look at it.

For me, _a priori_, certainly not!

DONNA MATILDA. Stupid! You think you are paying me a compliment! (_Turing to Doctor Genoni_). What do you say, Doctor? Do say something, please!

DOCTOR (_makes a movement to go near to the picture_).

BELCREDI (_with his back turned, pretending to attract his attention secretly_).--Hss! No, doctor! For the love of Heaven, have nothing to do with it!

DOCTOR (_getting bewildered and smiling_). And why shouldn't I?

DONNA MATILDA. Don't listen to him! Come here! He's insufferable!

FRIDA. He acts the fool by profession, didn't you know that?

BELCREDI (_to the Doctor, seeing him go over_). Look at your feet, doctor! Mind where you're going!

DOCTOR. Why?

BELCREDI. Be careful you don't put your foot in it!

DOCTOR (_laughing feebly_). No, no. After all, it seems to me there's no reason to be astonished at the fact that a daughter should resemble her mother!

BELCREDI. Hullo! Hullo! He's done it now; he's said it.

DONNA MATILDA (_with exaggerated anger, advancing towards Belcredi_). What's the matter? What has he said? What has he done?

DOCTOR (_candidly_). Well, isn't it so?

BELCREDI (_answering the Marchioness_). I said there was nothing to be astounded at--and you are astounded! And why so, then, if the thing is so simple and natural for you now?

DONNA MATILDA (_still more angry_). Fool! fool! It's just because it is so natural! Just because it isn't my daughter who is there. (_Pointing to the canva.s.s_). That is my portrait; and to find my daughter there instead of me fills me with astonishment, an astonishment which, I beg you to believe, is sincere. I forbid you to cast doubts on it.

FRIDA (_slowly and wearily_). My G.o.d! It's always like this ... rows over nothing....

BELCREDI (_also slowly, looking dejected, in accents of apology_). I cast no doubt on anything! I noticed from the beginning that you haven't shared your mother's astonishment; or, if something did astonish you, it was because the likeness between you and the portrait seemed so strong.

DONNA MATILDA. Naturally! She cannot recognize herself in me as I was at her age; while I, there, can very well recognize myself in her as she is now!

DOCTOR. Quite right! Because a portrait is always there fixed in the twinkling of an eye: for the young lady something far away and without memories, while, for the Marchioness, it can bring back everything: movements, gestures, looks, smiles, a whole heap of things....

DONNA MATILDA. Exactly!

DOCTOR (_continuing, turning towards her_). Naturally enough, you can live all these old sensations again in your daughter.

DONNA MATILDA. He always spoils every innocent pleasure for me, every touch I have of spontaneous sentiment! He does it merely to annoy me.

DOCTOR (_frightened at the disturbance he has caused, adopts a professorial tone_). Likeness, dear Baron, is often the result of imponderable things. So one explains that....

BELCREDI (_interrupting the discourse_). Somebody will soon be finding a likeness between you and me, my dear professor!

DI NOLLI. Oh! let's finish with this, please! (_Points to the two doors on the Right, as a warning that there is someone there who may be listening_). We've wasted too much time as it is!

FRIDA. As one might expect when _he's_ present (_alludes to Belcredi_).

DI NOLLI. Enough! The doctor is here; and we have come for a very serious purpose which you all know is important for me.

DOCTOR. Yes, that is so! But now, first of all, let's try to get some points down exactly. Excuse me, Marchioness, will you tell me why your portrait is here? Did you present it to him then?