Eleven Short Stories. Luigi Pirandello

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СКАЧАТЬ nuovo la vista gli s’annebbiò, sotto l’imminenza dell’apparire di lei. Ma Teresina non venne, e la conversazione fu ripresa nella sala. Tornò invece dopo alquanti minuti, che

      The apparition of that dyed witch, and the order given by the servant, suddenly gave Micuccio, in his dejection, an anguished presentiment. He heard Aunt Marta’s shrill voice:

      “Over there, into the salon, into the salon, Dorina!”

      And the servant and Dorina passed by him carrying magnificent baskets of flowers. He leaned his head forward so he could observe the illuminated room at the far end, and he saw a great number of gentlemen in tailcoats talking confusedly. His sight grew dim; his amazement and agitation were so great that he himself didn’t realize that his eyes had filled with tears; he closed them, and he shut himself up completely in that darkness, as if to resist the torment that a long, ringing laugh was causing him. It was Teresina laughing like that, in the other room.

      A muffled cry made him open his eyes again, and he saw before him—unrecognizable—Aunt Marta, with her hat on her head, poor thing! and laden down by a costly and splendid velvet mantilla.

      “What! Micuccio … you here?”

      “Aunt Marta … ,” exclaimed Micuccio, almost frightened, pausing to examine her closely.

      “Whatever for?” continued the old lady, who was upset. “Without letting us know? What happened? When did you get here? … Tonight of all nights … Oh, God, God …”

      “I’ve come to … ,” Micuccio stammered, not knowing what more to say.

      “Wait!” Aunt Marta interrupted him. “What’s to be done? What’s to be done? See all those people, son? It’s Teresina’s celebration … her night … Wait, wait here for a bit …”

      “If you,” Micuccio attempted to say, as anxiety tightened his throat, “if you think I ought to go …”

      “No, wait a bit, I say,” the kind old lady hastened to reply, all embarrassed.

      “But,” Micuccio responded, “I have no idea where to go in this town … at this hour …”

      Aunt Marta left him, signaling to him with one of her gloved hands to wait, and entered the salon, in which a moment later Micuccio thought an abyss had opened; silence had suddenly fallen there. Then he heard, clear and distinct, these words of Teresina:

      “One moment, gentlemen.”

      Again his sight grew dim with the imminence of her appearance. But Teresina did not come, and the conversation resumed in the salon. Instead, after a few minutes, which seemed an eternity to

      a lui parvero eterni, zia Marta senza cappello, senza mantiglia, senza guanti, meno imbarazzata.

      —Aspettiamo un po’ qui, sei contento?—gli disse.—Io starò con te … Adesso si fa cena … Noi ce ne staremo qua. Dorina ci apparecchierà questo tavolino, e ceneremo insieme, qui; ci ricorderemo de’ bei tempi, eh? … Non mi par vero di trovarmi con te, figlietto mio, qui, qui, appartati … Lì, capirai, tanti signori … Lei, poverina, non può farne a meno … La carriera, m’intendi? Eh, come si fa! … Li hai veduti i giornali? Cose grandi, figlio mio! Io, come sopra mare, sempre … Non mi par vero che me ne possa star qua con te, stasera.

      E la buona vecchina, che aveva parlato parlato, istintivamente, per non dar tempo a Micuccio di pensare, alla fine sorrise e si stropicciò le mani, guardandolo intenerita.

      Dorina venne ad apparecchiare la tavola in fretta, perché già lì, in sala, il pranzo era cominciato.

      Verrà?—domandò cupo, Micuccio, con voce angosciata. —Dico, per vederla almeno.

      —Certo che verrà,—gli rispose subito la vecchietta, sforzandosi di vincere l’impaccio.—Appena avrà un momentino di largo: già me l’ha detto.

      Si guardarono tutt’e due e si sorrisero, come se finalmente si riconoscessero l’un l’altra. Attraverso l’impaccio e la commozione le loro anime avevan trovato la via per salutarsi con quel sorriso. «Voi siete zia Marta»—dicevan gli occhi di Micuccio.—«E tu, Micuccio, il mio caro e buon figliuolo, sempre lo stesso, poverino!»—dicevan quelli di zia Marta. Ma subito la buona vecchietta abbassò i suoi, perché Micuccio non vi leggesse altro. Si stropicciò di nuovo le mani e disse:

      —Mangiamo eh?

      —Ho una fame io!—esclamò tutto lieto e raffidato Micuccio.

      —La croce, prima: qui posso farmela, davanti a te,—aggiunse la vecchietta con aria birichina, strizzando un occhio, e si segnò.

      Il cameriere venne a offrir loro il primo servito. Micuccio stette bene attento a osservare come faceva zia Marta a trarre dal piatto la porzione. Ma quando venne la sua volta, nel levar le mani, pensò che le aveva sporche dal lungo viaggio, arrossì, si confuse, alzò gli occhi a sogguardare il cameriere, il quale,

      him, Aunt Marta came back, without her hat, without her mantilla, without her gloves, and less embarrassed.

      “Let’s wait here for a while, would that be all right?” she said to him. “I’ll stay with you … Now they’re having supper … We’ll remain here. Dorina will set this little table for us, and we’ll have supper together, here; we’ll reminisce about the good old days, all right? … I can’t believe it’s true that I’m here with you, son, here, here, all by ourselves … In that room, you understand, all those gentlemen … She, poor girl, can’t avoid them … Her career, you get my meaning? Ah, what can you do! … Have you seen the newspapers? Big doings, son! As for me, I’m all at sea, all the time … I can’t believe I can really be here with you, tonight.”

      And the kind old lady, who had gone on talking, instinctively, to keep Micuccio from having time to think, finally smiled and rubbed her hands together, looking at him compassionately.

      Dorina came to set the table hastily, because there, in the salon, the meal had already begun.

      “Will she come?” Micuccio asked gloomily, with a troubled voice. “I mean, at least to see her.”

      “Of course she’ll come,” the old lady immediately replied, making an effort to get out of her awkward situation. “Just as soon as she has a minute free: she’s already told me so.”

      They looked at each other and smiled at each other, as if they had finally recognized each other. Despite the embarrassment and the excitement, their souls had found the way to greet each other with that smile. “You’re Aunt Marta,” Micuccio’s eyes said. “And you’re Micuccio, my dear, good son, still the same, poor boy!” said Aunt Marta’s. But suddenly the kind old lady lowered her own eyes, so that Micuccio might not read anything else in them. Again she rubbed her hands together and said:

      “Let’s eat, all right?”

      “I’m good and hungry!” exclaimed Micuccio, quite happy and reassured.

      “Let’s cross ourselves first: here, in front of you, I can do it,” added the old lady in a mischievous manner, winking an eye, and she made the sign of the cross.

      The manservant came, bringing their first course. Micuccio observed with close attention the way that Aunt Marta СКАЧАТЬ