"BLUES QUARTET" a tragicomedy by Andrea Jeva (Translated from the Italian by Gregory Conti) Characters (all wearing tails) - SIGNOR A (age twenty) - SIGNOR B (age forty) - SIGNOR C (age sixty) - SIGNOR D (age eighty. Never appears on stage). Set: undefined, immersed in half-light The author's copyright to "Blues Quartet" is protected and safeguarded by S.I.A.E. (Società Italiana degli Autori ed Editori). Stage performances and publications are subject to royalties. All requests regarding rights are to be addressed to: S.I.A.E. / Sezione D.O.R. / Viale della Letteratura 30 / 00144 Roma - Italy. The author asks to be informed of every production of this work. The author can be contacted by e-mail: infogatto@andrea-jeva.it - website: http://www.andrea-jeva.it or via regular post addressed to: Andrea Quacquarelli, Via Pinturicchio 1, 06122 Perugia, Italy, Tel. 39/075/5732798 (In total darkness, we hear SIGNOR "A" and SIGNOR "B" playing the game of "statue": SIGNOR "B" stands with his back to us for a few seconds while SIGNOR "A", downstage of SIGNOR "B", after taking a few quick steps in a random direction but in any event trying to get nearer to SIGNOR "B", comes to a stop and assumes a statue position. - Every so often we hear SIGNOR "B" yell out in a satisfied voice "GO BACK!" and we hear the footsteps of SIGNOR "A" going back to his starting point. The light comes up slowly to half-light. When SIGNOR "B" suddenly turns around, SIGNOR "A" freezes in position. After a couple of game sequences, SIGNOR "B" catches SIGNOR "A" in movement and he waves him away saying: GO BACK! -. N.B. THIS GAME, LIKE ALL THE OTHERS THAT FOLLOW, COULD HAVE SOMETHING MISTAKEN OR SKEWED ABOUT IT, AS IF IT HAD BEEN LEARNED INCORRECTLY AND THEN MODIFIED IMPERCEPTIBLY, BUT ENOUGH TO MAKE IT LOSE ITS ORIGINAL LOGIC) SIGNOR "A" - (going back to his place, to SIGNOR "B") Excuse me, how much time has passed by now.? SIGNOR "B" - Sssh! (Childish, almost hysterical) Stop asking so many questions, we've got to keep playing! SIGNOR "A" - (to SIGNOR "B") But, sorry, are you saying that Neutrinos can reach us even down here? SIGNOR "B" - Neutrinos can reach us anywhere. Are you ready to play? SIGNOR "A" - And so they can contaminate us even down here? SIGNOR "B" - (deliberately controlling himself) We are contaminated in any case. Down here and everywhere else. And even without Neutrinos. Do you want to get that into your head once and for all? SIGNOR "A" - Right. SIGNOR "B" - Are you ready? (Turning around he intones a singsong) "Lovely little statues moving all around." (He turns around suddenly to catch SIGNOR "A" who hasn't moved) …So? SIGNOR "A" - (detaching himself from the game) Listen, I don't feel like playing anymore. I'd rather torment myself, so there. (Brief pause) What torment do you want us to die from today? SIGNOR "B" - What torment do you want to die from? SIGNOR "A" - I don't know exactly… (He smiles) SIGNOR "B" - (almost shocked, with contempt) Are you having fun? SIGNOR "A" - Pretty much. But it's not the game. (He smiles). SIGNOR "B" - Silence! …Play is the only possibility we have to liberate ourselves from time! SIGNOR "A" - The last time you said, "Forget about time". SIGNOR "B" - So what? Isn't "forgetting about time" the same thing as "being liberated from time"? SIGNOR "A" - Yes, but… "Liberate" can be forever, "forgetting" is only for a few seconds. SIGNOR "B" - So? Doesn't this "extremely dangerous" situation of ours scare you in the least? SIGNOR "A" - Yes, but… SIGNOR "B" - (interrupting him) I mean, doesn't it scare you to find yourself "uninterruptedly" and always against your will in a situation that is so "extremely dangerous"? SIGNOR "A" - Yes, but you forget that I know how to pretend it's nothing, like everybody else. Or else I know how not to notice anything at all. Like everybody else. So there you have it, that's why I prefer to torment myself rather than play: Better a two-timer than a one-timer, you know what I mean? SIGNOR "B" - Right, when you come right down to it, you've got no choice. "Be a hypocrite, like everybody else." (Pause) Is there some other choice? SIGNOR "A" - No. SIGNOR "B" - Tell me. Do you have another choice? SIGNOR "A" - No. I already said no. SIGNOR "B" - Fine. (Pause. Then almost threateningly). Let's play. Let's forget at least a few "seconds" of our situation. Alright? SIGNOR "A" - (brief pause) Excuse me, and what about the tachyons? …Can they reach us here too? SIGNOR "B" - (irritated, but logical) If the neutrinos can reach us, and they're much slower, then of course… SIGNOR "A" - Tachyons, which are much faster, can reach us too. Of course. There's no choice. SIGNOR "B" - No. SIGNOR "A" - Do you by any chance have another choice? SIGNOR "B" - Other than the game, no. SIGNOR "A" - Fine. SIGNOR "B" - Let's play. SIGNOR "A" - (reluctantly starting to play again, going back to his starting point from before) But, wait a minute, are you saying that time, down here, really passes more slowly? SIGNOR "B" - Will you stop it? (He turns his back and starts back up with the singsong.) "Lovely little statues moving all around." (He suddenly turns back around to surprise SIGNOR "A" who hasn't moved.) …So? SIGNOR "A" - Excuse me again. But the sounds; we haven't heard any more sounds. Can you hear how quiet it is? (Pause. They listen to the silence.) …So, maybe, down here (happy) sounds can't reach us anymore. SIGNOR "B" - (imitating him with contempt) "So, maybe, down here… They can't reach us anymore." (Pause). Now can you, tell me, are you able to breath? SIGNOR "A" - (tries to breath) Yes. SIGNOR "B" - So the air reaches us? SIGNOR "A" - …Yes. SIGNOR "B" - I mean, it reaches us down here too? SIGNOR "A" - (tries to breathe again, agreeing) If I can breath… SIGNOR "B" - And so? SIGNOR "A" - (like a lesson he has learned by heart) …And so, despite everything else, if air reaches us, we are in fact reachable, we are in fact contaminable. Indeed, with or without sounds, with or without tachyons, we are nevertheless contaminated… Just as you said before. SIGNOR "B" - (pause) Yes, but in this case not "contaminated." In this case it's worse, "touched!" We are nevertheless "touched." SIGNOR "A" - Right. (Brief pause) Why "worse?" SIGNOR "B" - …Because it should be less serious to be "touched" rather than being "contaminated," no? SIGNOR "A" - Right. SIGNOR "B" - But instead it's "extremely serious." Not just serious, "extremely serious." SIGNOR "A" - Indeed… Why? SIGNOR "B" - Because there's no relief! Something less serious happens to us and yet there's no relief. Do you, by any chance, feel some relief? SIGNOR "A" - No. SIGNOR "B" - So it's worse. SIGNOR "A" - Exactly. SIGNOR "B" - Let's play. (They start playing again in silence. After a few game sequences, SIGNOR "B" "catches" SIGNOR "A" while moving and he sends him away, saying "GO BACK!") SIGNOR "A" - (going back to his place) Now how much time has passed? SIGNOR "B" - Quit asking about time. We're done for in any case, aren't we? SIGNOR "A" - (not very convinced) Yes. SIGNOR "B" - Fine. SIGNOR "A" - (not very convinced) Fine. SIGNOR "B" - (taking it for granted) You're not convinced. SIGNOR "A" - Not enough. SIGNOR "B" - (brief pause). Do you agree that inside every human head, and therefore even in ours, there is a human catastrophe comparable only to that particular head? SIGNOR "A" - I agree. SIGNOR "B" - Fine. Do you agree that it's no use opening our heads only to find out that there's nothing inside except a human catastrophe? SIGNOR "A" - Yes, pretty much so. SIGNOR "B" - …And that without his own personal catastrophe, man, and therefore we too, cannot possibly exist? SIGNOR "A" - I totally agree. SIGNOR "B" - (angry) Well then! Why don't you want to play? SIGNOR "A" - I don't know… SIGNOR "B" - Fine! …Man, and therefore we too, loves his own personal catastrophe, right? And so if all of a sudden he can't find it, what does he do then? SIGNOR "A" - I don't know. SIGNOR "B" - (angry) He does everything he can to get it back… Get the catastrophe back in his head again. SIGNOR "A" - Okay. SIGNOR "B" - Fine. Have you forgotten that when we look people in the eye, and therefore us too, we can see that they are either immersed in their own personal disaster or looking for their own personal catastrophe? SIGNOR "A" - No, I haven't forgotten. SIGNOR "B" - And so? SIGNOR "A" - And so… (With a gesture of irritation) I forgot. SIGNOR "B" - (angry) We are done for! With or without time! With or without tachyons. With or without neutrinos. SIGNOR "A" - Indeed. SIGNOR "B" - Fine. Let's play. Are you ready? SIGNOR "A" - Wait, wait, I want to be a little more sure about this: go on, please. SIGNOR "B" - Go on with what? SIGNOR "A" - (no nonsense, as though reciting a poem) "When I look people in the eye…" SIGNOR "B" - (epic) …When I look people in the eye I see that people and therefore we too, are unhappy. We are all persons carrying around their own personal catastrophe and so the world is transformed into a comedy, which naturally makes us laugh. SIGNOR "A" - Naturally. (He smiles. Then as if reciting a poem) And they take pleasure… " SIGNOR "B" - (epic) And they take pleasure in the disease that is leading them to the grave. SIGNOR "A" - Fabulous. More. SIGNOR "B" - (epic) …No matter if the scene is set in the bowels of the earth, like ours, or in some other place. Wherever we look all we can see are people dying. Mankind, and therefore, we too, is nothing else but a monstrous community of dead men walking, made up of billions of people populating stages on each of the five, if you prefer, seven continents. That is to say, populating stages all over the planet! SIGNOR "A" - (enthusiastic) One great comedy! (Brief pause) Continue… SIGNOR "B" - (irritated) More?! SIGNOR "A" - More. SIGNOR "B" - (epic) …Every man I see and about whom we hear something, and therefore, we too… SIGNOR "A" - Therefore we too. SIGNOR "B" - (epic) Demonstrates to us the absolute unconsciousness of all mankind, and that therefore, the whole of mankind… SIGNOR "A" and SIGNOR "B" (together) And therefore we too SIGNOR "B" - (epic) And also the whole of nature SIGNOR "A" - And also the whole of nature SIGNOR "B" - Are a fraud! SIGNOR "A" - (repeating with emphasis) Are a fraud! SIGNOR "B" - No, worse than a fraud! SIGNOR "A" - A great comedy! SIGNOR "B" - Worse than a comedy! SIGNOR "A" - A farce! SIGNOR "B" - (filling his mouth with the words that follow) Something grotesque! SIGNOR "A"- (filling his mouth with the words that follow) Something outrageous! SIGNOR "B" - (brief pause) Fine. SIGNOR "A"- Fine. SIGNOR "B" - Let's play. SIGNOR "A" - Let's play. (SIGNOR "B" turns his back. SIGNOR "A" goes back to his starting point.) SIGNOR "A" - (acting like a child) Oh princess, sweet princess, how many steps must I take my journey homeward for to make? SIGNOR "B" - (turning around to face SIGNOR "A", as if in reproach) So? SIGNOR "A" - (aggressive) Can we change the game or not? SIGNOR "B" - (pause. Then gritting his teeth) Of course we can. SIGNOR "A" - (like a command) Well then, turn around. (SIGNOR "B" turns his back to us) SIGNOR "A" - (acting like a child) Oh princess, sweet princess, how many steps must I take my journey homeward for to make? SIGNOR "B" - (back turned, irritated, acting in turn like a child) Three horse steps. (SIGNOR "A" quickly takes three rather large steps and then freezes. SIGNOR "B" turns suddenly and sees him motionless. Then he turns back around.) SIGNOR "A" - Oh princess, sweet princess, how many steps must I take my journey homeward for to make? SIGNOR "B" - (back turned) Two chicken steps. (SIGNOR "A" - quickly takes two steps to arrive right behind SIGNOR "B" and then freezes. SIGNOR "B" turns suddenly and sees him immobile. Then he turns back around) SIGNOR "A" - Oh princess, sweet princess, how many steps must I take my journey homeward for to make? SIGNOR "B" - (back turned) Ten back space steps! (Laughs to himself with great amusement) (SIGNOR "A" remains stopped in the same place. SIGNOR "B" turns suddenly in order to catch SIGNOR "A" while he's moving.) SIGNOR "B" - (seeing him in the same place, reprimanding him) So? SIGNOR "A" - I don't feel like playing anymore, I told you that already… It's just that I'd rather torment myself. It's not easy to forget one's own personal catastrophe. Especially in light of the fact, as you were saying earlier, that we're done for anyway. In this situation I prefer to torment myself, I can assure you. SIGNOR "B" - Fine. (Forcedly calm). What torment do you want to die from? SIGNOR "A" - I told you, I don't know exactly…(Smiles) SIGNOR "B" - (irritated) "I don't know exactly" is already a torment in itself. And as you can see, without relief. SIGNOR "A" - Indeed. SIGNOR "B" - Therefore it's impossible to delude oneself beyond a certain point. Sooner or later one has to play, or take his own life like that (snaps his fingers). SIGNOR "A" - (disarmed) Indeed. SIGNOR "B" - Well then why is it that you don't you want to die!? Seeing as you don't want to play? SIGNOR "A" - I don't know… SIGNOR "B" - (regaining his calm) Excuse me, but you consented to being swallowed up down here in the bowels of the earth in order to reach our real objective. Yes or no? SIGNOR "A" - Because you promised me that down here time was slower. SIGNOR "B" - (furious) It's not me that promises, it's the force of gravity that acts! SIGNOR "A" - Yes but, I'm sorry, but I don't notice it. Time is always the same. Even down here it seems exactly the same. SIGNOR "B" - That's the point, "it seems" the same but it isn't. SIGNOR "A" - I get it. Then let's say that these kinds of torment don't make me reach our real objective; they don't make me die either with gentleness or relief, alright? Actually, what I like is the transition from one torment to another. There, it's the transition I like, not the torment. If I hit on a lucky series of tormenting transitions maybe I could manage to die like we want: peacefully (dreamy) …Yes, travel, take travel for example. I've always dreamed of tormenting myself to death with a long-desired journey. SIGNOR "B" - So then why did you choose to be swallowed up down here under the surface of the earth? SIGNOR "A" - Ah, what does it matter now, listen… (Dreamy, tasting his words) To take a long-desired journey, or rather, "an impossible voyage." Isn't that, in its very simplicity, a glorious torment? And at the same time an escape, if you will, from greater torments? SIGNOR "B" - For example? SIGNOR "A" - (Dreamy) Sailing the south seas. SIGNOR "B" - You mean out in the open? SIGNOR "A" - Right. Out in the open. SIGNOR "B" - And what about the world? SIGNOR "A" - (not understanding) Sorry? SIGNOR "B" - The world, what about the world? …Down here at least the nausea can only reach us with subatomic particles, little stuff, from which one cannot escape in any case but from which, with a little wit and sensibility, one can manage to free himself for a few seconds. But up there, outside, in the open air, in contact with the sky, nausea instantly envelops, suppresses, infects. Have you forgotten about sex? Hunger? Sounds? Talk-shows? Movies? Wars? And, oh dear, politics! And the newspapers? Corruption? The polls? And the theater? Painting, especially painting? SIGNOR "A" - And music? SIGNOR "B" - …And music, especially music. SIGNOR "A" - No, I haven't forgotten. SIGNOR "B" - And so? SIGNOR "A" - (like a lesson learned by heart) And so one must remove himself from the garbage of the world, disappear from the sight of it, or at any rate oppose it with all available means… SIGNOR "B" - Fine. SIGNOR "A" - Fine. But even so, as you say, we're done for. SIGNOR "B" - Naturally. But at least, seeing as you insist on living (like an intrigue) we seem to be opposing it, we seem to be acting, we seem in any event to be taking action and not just spinning like mechanical wheels, not just "passive" meat being led to slaughter. SIGNOR "A" - Yes, but the point, as you were saying before, is that it isn't " we are" but only "we seem". So we might as well go back… SIGNOR "B" - Silence! (Pause. Extends his ear.) Did you hear a knock? SIGNOR "A" - No. (a knock is heard) SIGNOR "B" - Ssshhh. Now did you hear a knock? SIGNOR "A" - Yes. SIGNOR "B" - (raising his voice) Who put a door in here? SIGNOR "A" - (raising his voice) Yeah, who put a door in here? SIGNOR "B" - Not me. SIGNOR "A" - Not me either. (more knocking is heard) SIGNOR "B" - (almost surprised at himself) Come in! (you can hear noise as though carried by the wind: stupid songs, voices from garbage television programs, gunshots, ambulances etc. SIGNOR "C" enters with an enormous burlap sack filled to the brim, making his way with a flashlight. The sounds soften into silence.) SIGNOR "B" - (cold, with his hands on his temples) As you can see the sounds are still able to reach us. SIGNOR "A" - Yes. SIGNOR "B" - And so? SIGNOR "A" - And so we can feel our stomachs turn. (they both start retching) SIGNOR "C" - (entering) Good morning, boys. SIGNOR "B" - (provocative) I'm not a boy anymore. SIGNOR "C" - (not responding to the provocation) Here are your supplies. (Sets the sack down on the ground) I'm sorry that I wasn't able to come last year, I had some problems. SIGNOR "A" - (pulling himself together) Last year? But how long has it been? (More retching) SIGNOR "B" - Will you stop asking about time? (More retching) SIGNOR "A" - No, no. This question is especially interesting to me now… (To SIGNOR "C") So, if you didn't come last year, does that mean it's been two years since the last time? SIGNOR "C" - Two years since the last time I came, yes. Why? SIGNOR "A" - (amazed) Two years! But just the other day… SIGNOR "B" - (interrupting him, agitated, looking at SIGNOR "C") Silence! Two years of his time, two days of ours, you get it? SIGNOR "A" - No. SIGNOR "B" - Obviously. SIGNOR "A" - But where are we exactly? SIGNOR "C" - In a coal mine. SIGNOR "B" - (correcting him) In an ex- coal mine. SIGNOR "A" - (as if giving himself an answer to an earlier question) So that's why we can't see the stars! SIGNOR "B" - Silence. Mine or no mine, you can never see the stars from underground! SIGNOR "A" - Right. SIGNOR "C" - (indicating the sack) …I brought you some chocolate this time. SIGNOR "A" - Chocolate! (Runs over to the sack, takes out a chocolate bar) That's good! (Starts eating it avidly, offering some to SIGNOR "B" who accepts). SIGNOR "C" - There's not very much, unfortunately, like I said, I had some problems, I couldn't bring anymore. SIGNOR "B" - (to SIGNOR "C") What kind of problems? SIGNOR "C" - I had to get a divorce. SIGNOR "A" - (happy) He finally managed to get a divorce. Congratulations! I couldn't have done it. SIGNOR "B" - (to SIGNOR "A", chewing on the chocolate bar) Congratulations my foot, it took him forty years! SIGNOR "C" - But now I really should be going. SIGNOR "A" - So soon? SIGNOR "C" - Yes. (Prepares to leave. The clamorous noises can be heard again but then they will slowly fade back into silence). SIGNOR "B" - Stop! (SIGNOR "C" stops. The sounds soften) There's no hurry. Wait. Now, can you hear that? If you lose just a little contact with out there, even the garbage begins to fade. (To SIGNOR "A") Excuse me. SIGNOR "A" (acting as if nothing happened) Who, me? SIGNOR "B" - Yes, you. Is there some reason to hurry? SIGNOR "A" - No. (To SIGNOR "C") There's never any hurry to get back to your own catastrophe. (Smiles) SIGNOR "B" - Fine. And so? SIGNOR "A" - (To SIGNOR "C") So stay a while, let's talk. SIGNOR "B" - "What do you mean, "let's talk"? (To SIGNOR "C") So, let's play. Do you want to play with us? (Showing signs of ill- concealed irritation, referring to the sounds that are heard again every now and then) Listen to that racket. (To SIGNOR "C") But why do you want to leave so soon? …Stay with us for a while, no? (Referring to the sounds, to himself) Listen to that disgusting racket? SIGNOR "C" - (referring to the sounds) If that's what you mean, these sounds annoy me too. SIGNOR "B" - (correcting him) These noises! SIGNOR "A" - Indeed, horrible noises! SIGNOR "C" - Yes, but you get used to it. SIGNOR "A" - (To SIGNOR "B") Indeed. SIGNOR "B" - "Indeed" what!? (Pause) That's exactly why humans are so horrible. Humans keep falling lower and lower and don't do anything to help themselves, don't do anything to lift themselves back up again. They feel themselves falling into the deepest abyss with no expectation of anyone catching them. They think they've arrived at the deepest abyss but then they keep on falling lower and lower until the deepest abyss becomes a chasm and the chasm becomes the abyss of the abyss of the deepest abyss. And so on ad infinitum. That's how humans, and therefore we too, get used to everything. That's where the two of you are terrifying. SIGNOR "C" - (to SIGNOR "A", ironic) A rather horrifying judgment, don't you think? (Laughs) SIGNOR "A" - (conspiratorial) Right! A horrifying judgment referring to SIGNOR "B") and therefore perfect for him! (Laughs) SIGNOR "B" - I know how funny the two of you are, but this is not the time. For a long time now it hasn't been the time to be funny. It just happens to be the case that there is one person, only one in the whole world, who can pass judgment on the two of you. Remember that. Only one. And that person is me. Don't you want to take advantage? SIGNOR "C" - Not me, thanks. SIGNOR "B" (to SIGNOR "A") - And you? SIGNOR "A" - (acting as if he hasn't understood) Who me? SIGNOR "B" - (almost with contempt) Yes, you. SIGNOR "A" - Take advantage? Of what? (Guffaws, then serious) I won't allow anybody to judge me, don't you understand? SIGNOR "B" - Well, I'm sorry, I can do it. SIGNOR "A" - And how? The only person in the world who can judge me is me, only me. SIGNOR "B" - Indeed, I am you. SIGNOR "C" - (to SIGNOR "B") Let him alone… SIGNOR "A" - (to SIGNOR "B") …So what of it? I'll never allow myself to judge myself. Never. SIGNOR "B" - I am you, and you know it. And I have been judging you for some time now. I want you to account to me for what I've become, and if you can't provide satisfactory reasons, you must know once and for all, I will destroy you. SIGNOR "C" - (with rancor, to SIGNOR "B") Excuse me. SIGNOR "B" - (surprised) Me? SIGNOR "C" - Yes, you, tell me now. Would it serve some purpose of yours to destroy your own youth? SIGNOR "B" - (to SIGNOR "C") Did it serve some purpose of yours not to do it? Don't you see what a mess I am? This is what I've become, thanks to your docility, to your tolerance. SIGNOR "C" - Well, tolerance is intelligence, don't you think? SIGNOR "B" - What's that, the closing slogan of the last talk-show you watched? SIGNOR "C" - I don't watch talk-shows and you know it. SIGNOR "B" - But you are in fact perfectly domesticated, and you aren't even the least bit aware of it! SIGNOR "A" - (to SIGNOR "B") Excuse me. SIGNOR "B" - (to SIGNOR "A", with rancor) Ye-ees… SIGNOR "A" - (getting his courage up. To SIGNOR "B") I don't see my eyes in your eyes. Look, look here at my skin (he shows it to him) …Is this yours: would you say it's the same? How can you judge me? Can't you see that I'm different? Totally different from you? SIGNOR "B" - There's the real damnation! To feel like you're different from everything else, even from yourself, you don't have the right. SIGNOR "C" - (to SIGNOR "B") Let him have his diversity. You mustn't humiliate him, it's the only thing he's got. He needs to feel that he's different. Don't you remember how it was? SIGNOR "B" - I don't want to remember a damned thing! What I want is for him to account to me for this eccentric need to feel his own diversity: I want to know why. SIGNOR "C" - You can't know his whys anymore. Just like I can no longer understand yours. SIGNOR "A" - Right (ingenuously to SIGNOR "B") …Like my desire to have fun, for example. Isn't a boy like me supposed to have fun? Tell lies to himself and trip the light fantastic? SIGNOR "B" - (despite himself) Yes, naturally. SIGNOR "A" - (mean) And so? This time let me be the one to say it to you: And so? (Bites into the chocolate bar) SIGNOR "B" - (to SIGNOR "A") Let me take a look at you… (Looking him over carefully as he eats his chocolate) Impossible. I? I was like this? …Another twenty years and you'll be me. Another twenty and I… (Referring to SIGNOR "C") I'll be him. (Smiling slightly) I'll be the one who brings you chocolate… And then, another twenty years and it'll be the end. Everything happens at twenty year intervals, (to both of them) Four times twenty years and everything will have happened to us. There's really no other choice. "Get used to everything and turn into something terrifying, like the two of you." Is there some other choice? (Brief pause. Then to SIGNOR "A") You… SIGNOR "A" - (with his mouth full of chocolate) Who me? SIGNOR "B" - Yes, you, answer me, is there another choice? SIGNOR "A" - (with his mouth full of chocolate) No. SIGNOR "B" - Oh yes there is: (sweetly) suicide! /.../ N.B. The on-line available text includes the beginning and the end only. It is recovered now with the end. To get the complete script contact the author directly: e-mail infogatto@andrea-jeva.it (N.B. Remove the name of the animal from the address) /.../ SIGNOR "C" - …On the contrary, the passing years make us even more vulnerable. Because you end up thinking that life is your natural enemy. And you start looking around for weapons, like SIGNOR "B" here, to defend yourself from life. SIGNOR "B" - (interrupting him) I'm not defending myself from a damn thing, I'm attacking, I'm the aggressor. And don't call me SIGNOR "B"! SIGNOR "C" - You are committing the worst imbecility of all. Much worse than the ones they're so proud of up there. Now here's what I reproach you for. If wisdom exists at all it consists in the ability to be living and dying at the same time. Over and above any positive or negative vision of the world. To be able to get hold of this state of mind that we call wisdom it is indispensable, when you are young, to forget that you are young, when you are old, to forget everything, even that you were once young. And live as long as you are alive, every single second. And to die when you have to die without a lot of fanfare and spectacular expectations… (He falls to the ground dead). SIGNOR "A" - (after a minute, to SIGNOR "B") But… Is he dead? SIGNOR "B" - What do you mean dead? (He goes over to SIGNOR "C" to listen to his heart beat) But… He's dead. SIGNOR "A" - Indeed. SIGNOR "B" - What is this! He didn't even commit suicide. SIGNOR "A" - No. SIGNOR "B" - Just as I thought! He even betrayed our suicidal destiny. He even had the weakness to die like this …Of natural causes, how disgusting! If you ask me, he even directed a thought or two to God, typical at his age. You dirty traitor! Now where are we going to bury him? SIGNOR "A" - Sorry, it didn't seem like a betrayal to me, on the contrary, he died peacefully, just like we want to… SIGNOR "B" - Silence! You want to die peacefully, not me! (Referring to SIGNOR "C") What he did was a betrayal, pure and simple, and it's going to weigh on all of us, or better, especially on you. Especially on you, seeing as you're the youngest among us. Remember that. SIGNOR "A" - If this is betrayal then we're all obliged to betray our destiny, in order to survive… SIGNOR "B" - What do you mean survive? He's dead. SIGNOR "A" - Him yes, But I'll survive and maybe you'll survive too, thanks to him. SIGNOR "B" - Silence! I have no intention of surviving. SIGNOR "A" - Excuse me, but you're already surviving… SIGNOR "B" - Silence, I said! (Brief pause) …How do you mean, I'm already surviving? SIGNOR "A" - Wasn't it you who suggested coming all the way down here where time is slower? You should already be a different person, no? And instead… SIGNOR "B" - I am here in order to convince you, to save you. With the excuse of slowing down time I am allowing you to escape from the atrocity of a humiliating life in the society of liberated imbeciles. SIGNOR "A" - You know something? You are the most despicable of all of us. You are serving the society up there by agreeing to this farce of the generations experiment: typical Western imbecility. SIGNOR "B" - That's not what I want! Do I have to explain that to you too? SIGNOR "A" - Anyway, you're the most servile of all of us. You are a slave to yourself… I'm not going to die down here… And I'm certainly not going to die a suicide! SIGNOR "B" - Wait a minute. Don't fool yourself just this once. Don't make a rash decision like some stupid kid. SIGNOR "A" - I'm not a stupid kid and I'll never be a forty year old like you, nor a sixty year old or an eighty year old …I'm never going to be any part of all this. SIGNOR "B" - Wait a minute! You're throwing it all away in a childish fashion that doesn't make sense. Didn't you want to torment yourself with the south seas? SIGNOR "A" - The south seas are not a torment, they're a desire. (The yearning blues melody from before can be heard) I'm going up there. (Makes to exit). SIGNOR "B" - Wait a minute. Here. (He pulls out a pistol) We've been saving this so we could use it, no? And the time is now. We've succeeded in creating the right state of mind… SIGNOR "A" - I've got to go now, I'm out of time. SIGNOR "B" - (weakly) Will you stop thinking about time. What's the use of time anyway? Let's play, come on… (He takes the ball and throws it off stage; no sound of it hitting the ground is heard) Stepping stones, the game you like to play (jumps up on a stone) SIGNOR "A" - I don't have any time left, not even to play, I've got to go… Hear that? (They listen to the music) …The waves are calling me. SIGNOR "B" - Wait a minute. (Referring to SIGNOR "C") What about him, don't you want to bury him? SIGNOR "A" - (he stops. Looks at SIGNOR "C". Brief pause)He was right, we've fallen down so far that we're already buried down here… So what are you going to do, are you coming with me? SIGNOR "B" - No way. I'm not going to contribute as much as a millimeter to the human catastrophe that's being celebrated up there. I'm going to commit suicide as we agreed and I'm going to do it with this pistol. Even better, here, come on, you go first, show some courage at least. I'll help you… (He hands him the pistol) SIGNOR "A" - (takes the pistol. Looks at it. Holds it up to his temple). Courage? I don't call this courage… (Hands the pistol back) So, until never again then. (Makes to leave). SIGNOR "B" - Wait a minute, don't betray our destiny, we were born suicides… I assure you. SIGNOR "A" - I don't think so… No one is born a suicide. You haven't convinced me, that's all. And if you go ahead and do it you'll be the one who betrays my destiny, given that we're the same person. SIGNOR "B" - Come on, do you really believe this story that our situation here is reality? SIGNOR "A" - I've got to go now, I really don't have any more time. (Referring to the music) The south seas are calling me. By the way, I've been meaning to ask, what was that thought you had that time you fainted? SIGNOR "B" - What could it possibly matter now that you've decided to leave? SIGNOR "A" - No big deal, just simple curiosity. (Brief pause) Will you tell me? SIGNOR "B" - It wasn't a thought… (Upset) It's a certainty… (Pause.) SIGNOR "A" - So? SIGNOR "B" - (hastily) We're already in the drawer. SIGNOR "A" - (doesn't get it) Sorry? SIGNOR "B" - (annoyed) Our playwright has already put the four of us back in the drawer. He's already come, unbeknownst to us, said under his breath "Experiment failed," and put us back in the drawer to wait for further inspiration. And once again he wasn't able to come up with real names for us, like the other time. Years will go before he takes us out again, just like the other time. If, in fact, he ever does take us out again. So that's our "extremely dangerous" situation: we're characters under construction, get it? SIGNOR "A" - No. SIGNOR "B" - Obviously. But that's reality, not what you think. SIGNOR "A" - Do you really think we're the product of someone's imagination? SIGNOR "B" - Exactly. Some little two-bit would be Pirandello has put us down here and doesn't know how to get us out. I'm the only one who knows what to do. The only one to have become flesh and blood, but, apparently, that's not enough. You get it now? SIGNOR "A" - You need a little air, don't you think? SIGNOR "B" - No, I don't think so. SIGNOR "A" - Are you sure? SIGNOR "B" - I'll be okay down here …I'll die prematurely of my own will and I'll always be remembered as a character who at least knows how to hate, even without a name. You, on the other hand, will vanish in our playwright's lack of inspiration. Remember this: the four of us have at least lived a little, thanks to my vital breath of hate. Remember that. SIGNOR "A" - I'll remember… Sorry, one last thing, what makes you so sure that I'm going to vanish forever? SIGNOR "B" - What? …In the abysmal vacuum that's being celebrated up there, even our little would-be Pirandello has absolutely nothing more to say; he too is helpless in the face of the void, swallowed up by the mediocrity of the Empire like all the rest of them. SIGNOR "A" - I see that your breath of hate persists in remaining vital… SIGNOR "B" - That's what makes me what I am… SIGNOR "A" - (vibrant) So then keep on living… With me. SIGNOR "B" - You still don't get it. Yes, I'll keep on living, in suicide. You, on the other hand, will vanish forever. SIGNOR "A" - Fine. I'm going back out there then… I'll do everything I can not to vanish, I assure you… SIGNOR "B" - You're practically already vanished. SIGNOR "A" - Now don't start again, I beg you… Come with me… You'll see… SIGNOR "B" - I'll see what! Do you really think that some unexpected inspiration is going to save us? SIGNOR "A" - By the way …What about the Tachyons? Will they really take us back into the past, sooner or later? SIGNOR "B" - What "past"? We'll have to liberate ourselves from the tachyons once and for all, they're so annoying. SIGNOR "A" - Right. SIGNOR "B" - But until we have some proof that they really don't exist, we'll never be able to be sure that some day a Tachyon won't arrive and say, "Here I am." SIGNOR "A" - I get it. Like an inspiration? SIGNOR "B" - No. Like youth. SIGNOR "A" - I get it. SIGNOR "B" - I don't think so. SIGNOR "A" - (impetuously) Come with me, I'd be happy to have you. Really. SIGNOR "B" - (slowly shaking his head) No. Thanks. SIGNOR "A" - Too bad. (Exits). (the blues melody grows slowly louder, as if carried on the wind) SIGNOR "B" - Wait a minute. Let's play some more… Come back… (the blues melody is more and more present. SIGNOR "A" walks off into the distance. SIGNOR "B" follows him with his gaze in silence and as the music grows even louder he starts to retch. When SIGNOR "A" has completely vanished from sight, SIGNOR "B" shoots himself in the temple and falls to the ground dead on top of SIGNOR "C". The blues melody reaches maximum volume. Black). - THE END -