Read Pirandello's Henry IV Online

Authors: Luigi Pirandello,Tom Stoppard

Pirandello's Henry IV (2 page)

BOOK: Pirandello's Henry IV
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BERTOLD
   Laughs?

HAROLD
   Just do what we do.

ORDULF
   It's not as easy as it looks.

LANDOLF
   Bit of a waste really. We've got the scenery, we've got the costumes, we could put on proper shows, history's always popular, and there's enough stuff in
Henry IV
for several tragedies. But us four—we're stranded, nobody gives us our moves, nothing to act, it's that old form-without-content. We're worse off than the real ones. They were given sod-all to play, true, but they didn't know that, so they just did what they did because that's what they did.
Life. Which means, look after number one. They sold titles and stuff. And here we are, great outfits, handsome surroundings, shame about the puppets.

HAROLD
   No, fair do's, you have to be ready to come out with the right answer or you're in trouble.

LANDOLF
   Yeah, that's true.

BERTOLD
   Well, that's it, innit? How'm I supposed to give him the right answer when I've been learning the wrong Henry?

HAROLD
   You'll have to put that right right off.

ORDULF
   We'll all pitch in.

HAROLD
   There's lots of stuff on him, a quick skim will do you for now.

(
indicating portrait
) Here's one . . . who's the skirt, do you know?

BERTOLD
   Her? Well, spot the deliberate mistake . . . she doesn't belong, for a start, a modern picture like that . . .

HAROLD
   You're not wrong, you're right.

LANDOLF
   But here's the thing—it's only a mistake if you think of them as portraits.

BERTOLD
   Which is what they are.

LANDOLF
   They are and they aren't. To Himself, seeing as he never touches them—

BERTOLD
   So what are they to him?

LANDOLF
   This is just my theory but I bet I'm right—to him they're more like representations of—what you'd see in a mirror. That one is him just as he is, same clothes, in this
throne room, which is right in every detail, no surprises. If it was a mirror, you'd see yourself in the eleventh century. So that's what
he
sees. Himself. So it's like mirrors reflecting back a world which comes to life in them, like it will for you, you'll see, don't worry.

BERTOLD
   Don't worry?

HAROLD
   It's a laugh.

BERTOLD
   So how did you get to be so into it . . . ?

LANDOLF
   Over nine hundred years of experience.

ORDULF
   Take your cue from us.

BERTOLD
   What about her—the Emperor's wife?

HAROLD
   Not at all. His wife is Bertha of Susa, sister of Amadeus II of Savoy.

ORDULF
   He can't stand her. He wants to dump her. He likes being one of the lads, like us.

LANDOLF
   (
indicating portrait
) That's his sworn enemy—Matilda, the Countess of Tuscany.

HAROLD
   The one who put the Pope up.

LANDOLF
   At Canossa.

ORDULF
   Pope Gregory VII. We hate him. (
a bell tolls
) You're on. Go out there an unknown, come back a star. Let's go.

They brace themselves to go “onstage,” move to exit, but
GIOVANNI
enters, in modern dress.

GIOVANNI
   (
hurried and anxious
) Hey . . .
psst
—Franco! Lolo!

HAROLD
   What's up?

BERTOLD
   Hey. What's he doing here?

LANDOLF
   Wrong century—get out!

ORDULF
   Get thee hence!—emissary of Gregory VII!

HAROLD
   Be gone!

GIOVANNI
   Leave off!

ORDULF
   'Tis forbidden!

HAROLD
   This be sorcery!

LANDOLF
   (
to Bertold
) A spirit conjured up by the Wizard of Rome! Quick, draw your sword.

GIOVANNI
   (
yelling
) Stop taking the piss. The young Count has arrived . . . with a party . . .

LANDOLF
   Ah! Great! Any women?

ORDULF
   Good-looking?

GIOVANNI
   There's two gentlemen.

HAROLD
   What about the women?

GIOVANNI
   The Countess and her daughter.

LANDOLF
   (
surprised
) Oh!—how come?

ORDULF
   The Countess?

GIOVANNI
   That's right—the Countess.

LANDOLF
   (
to Bertold
) Her daughter is engaged to the young Count.

HAROLD
   And the men?

GIOVANNI
   I don't know them.

HAROLD
   (
to Bertold
) A bit of content.

ORDULF
   Messengers from the Pope—this is more like it.

GIOVANNI
   Will you let me tell you?

HAROLD
   Go on, then.

GIOVANNI
   I think one's a doctor.

LANDOLF
   Oh, right, another doctor.

HAROLD
   (
to Bertold
) You brought us luck!

LANDOLF
   Watch us work the doctor.

BERTOLD
   I think I'm out of my depth.

GIOVANNI
   Listen—they want to come in.

LANDOLF
   Here?
She
can't come in here.

HAROLD
   Now that's what I'd call content.

LANDOLF
   We'd have a real tragedy on our hands.

BERTOLD
   Why's that?

ORDULF
   (
pointing at the portrait
) It's
her
, don't you see?

HAROLD
   What do they want in here?

ORDULF
   If Himself sees her he'll blow his lid.

LANDOLF
   That's if he still knows her.

GIOVANNI
   If he wakes up, you're to keep him out.

ORDULF
   Oh, easy!—and how're we supposed to do that?

GIOVANNI
   Bloody hell—use force if you have to. I've been told—get on with it.

HAROLD
   He could already be awake.

ORDULF
   Let's go.

LANDOLF
   Tell us later what's going on.

GIOVANNI
   Lock the door and take the key out.

Landolf, Harold, Ordulf, and Bertold leave.
DI NOLLI
comes in.

DI NOLLI
   All clear?

GIOVANNI
   Yes, my lord.

Di Nolli exits for a moment to invite the others in. The first to enter is
BARON TITO BELCREDI,
followed by
DOCTOR DIONISIO GENONI,
then
COUNTESS MATILDA
and her daughter
FRIDA.
Giovanni bows and exits. Matilda is about forty-five years old; she is still beautiful although she repairs the inevitable damage with heavy but expert makeup. Belcredi is lean, prematurely grizzled, slightly younger. Frida is only nineteen. She's already engaged to Count Carlo Di Nolli, a stiff young man in full mourning. They enter nervously, looking at the room with curiosity (except for Di Nolli) and almost whispering to begin with.

BELCREDI
   Incredible . . .

DOCTOR
   Fascinating! The dementia carried through to the last detail.

MATILDA
   Ah, there it is. Yes, yes . . . Look at it . . . My God . . . Frida, look . . .

FRIDA
   Oh, your portrait!

MATILDA
   No. Look. It's not me, it's you.

DI NOLLI
   What did I tell you?

MATILDA
   But it's uncanny! Look, Frida—can't you see it's you?

FRIDA
   Well . . . really I . . .

MATILDA
   Look, Tito.

BELCREDI
   Wouldn't dream of it, on principle.

MATILDA
   Idiot! He thinks he's being gall-ant. You tell her, Doctor.

BELCREDI
   
Psst
—Doctor—for pity's sake—don't get involved in this.

DOCTOR
   In what?

MATILDA
   Ignore him. He's insufferable.

FRIDA
   He plays the fool for his supper, didn't you know?

BELCREDI
   Watch where you're putting your feet!

DOCTOR
   Why?

BELCREDI
   Hobnailed boots.

DOCTOR
   Really?

BELCREDI
   And you're about to step on somebody's toes.

DOCTOR
   Oh . . . come on . . . what's so strange about a daughter looking like her mother?

BELCREDI
   Crunch, too late!

MATILDA
   Why, what did he say?

DOCTOR
   Nothing special.

BELCREDI
   He said there was nothing strange about it. In which case, why did you act so stunned?

MATILDA
   (
enraged
) For the very reason that the resemblance is so natural—fool!—because that's my portrait and to see my daughter looking back at me was an amazing thing, so I was amazed—all right?—and you can keep your insinuations to yourself.

Embarrassed silence.

FRIDA
   Oh God, it always ends in a row.

BELCREDI
   (
apologetically
) I wasn't insinuating anything. I just happened to notice you didn't share your mother's amazement. If you were surprised at anything, it was at your mother being amazed.

MATILDA
   Well, obviously! She didn't know me when I was her age. But I caught sight of myself and I saw I was . . . just like she is now.

DOCTOR
   No more than one would expect. Because for the daughter it's just a picture, a moment caught and complete in itself. . . while for the mother it comes with a whole string of associations—how she moved, gestured, smiled, spoke, everything which isn't in the portrait . . .

MATILDA
   Exactly.

DOCTOR
   . . . all sprung to life in your daughter.

MATILDA
   Thank you! But when I speak as I feel, he has to go and spoil it to annoy me.

DOCTOR
   (
continues in his professional tone, turning to Belcredi
) Resemblance, you see, my dear Baron, often resides where you least expect it—which is how . . .

BELCREDI
   Which is how some people might even find a resemblance between you and me.

DI NOLLI
   Please, please, we've got off the point.

FRIDA
   That's what happens when he's around.

MATILDA
   Which is exactly why I didn't want him to come.

BELCREDI
   How ungrateful, after all the fun you have at my expense.

DI NOLLI
   Tito, I beg you—enough. The Doctor is here, we have serious business, and you know how important this is to me.

BOOK: Pirandello's Henry IV
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