Eleven Short Stories. Luigi Pirandello

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СКАЧАТЬ into an extremely high collar and with his sparse hair carefully dressed and arranged on his cranium—raised his thick, joined eyebrows, which resembled a displaced mustache that had been shaved off his lips and pasted up there so he wouldn’t lose it, and examined from head to foot the young man standing in front of him on the staircase landing: a rustic from the look of him, with the collar of his rough overcoat raised up to his ears and his hands—purple, numbed with cold—holding a dirty little sack on one side and a small old suitcase on the other, as a counterweight.

      “Who is Teresina?”

      The young man first shook his head to get rid of a little water drop on the tip of his nose, then replied:

      “Teresina, the singer.”

      “Ah!” exclaimed the servant with a smile of ironic amazement: “That’s her name, just plain Teresina? And who are you?”¹

      “Is she here or isn’t she?” asked the young man, knitting his brows and sniffling. “Tell her that Micuccio is here, and let me in.”

      “But there’s no one here,” continued the servant with his smile congealed on his lips. “Madame Sina Marnis is still at the theater and …”

      “Aunt Marta, too?” Micuccio interrupted him.

      “Ah, you’re a relative, sir? In that case, step right in, step right in … No one’s at home. She’s at the theater, too, your aunt. They won’t be back before one. This is the benefit night² of your … what is she to you, the lady? Your cousin, perhaps?”

      Micuccio stood there embarrassed for a moment.

      ¹The varying modes of address used by the servant when speaking to Micuccio are very important in this story; see the discussion of “you” in the Introduction, page xiii, footnote 2.

      ²The night, contractually set aside, on which a member of a dramatic or operatic troupe would perform his or her specialties and share in the box-office take.

      —Non sono parente, … sono Micuccio Bonavino, lei lo sa … Vengo apposta dal paese.

      A questa risposta il cameriere stimò innanzi tutto conveniente di ritirare il lei e riprendere il voi: introdusse Micuccio in una cameretta al bujo presso la cucina, dove qualcuno ronfava strepitosamente, e gli disse:

      —Sedete qua. Adesso porto un lume.

      Micuccio guardò prima dalla parte donde veniva quel ronfo, ma non poté discernere nulla; guardò poi in cucina, dove il cuoco, assistito da un guattero, apparecchiava da cena. L’odor misto delle vivande in preparazione lo vinse: n’ebbe quasi un’ebrietà vertiginosa: era poco men che digiuno dalla mattina; veniva da Reggio di Calabria: una notte e un giorno intero in ferrovia.

      Il cameriere recò il lume, e la persona che ronfava nella stanza, dietro una cortina sospesa a una funicella da una parete all’altra, borbottò tra il sonno:

      —Chi è?

      —Ehi, Dorina, su!—chiamò il cameriere.—Vedi che c’è qui il signor Bonvicino …

      —Bonavino,—corresse Micuccio che stava a soffiarsi su le dita.

      —Bonavino, Bonavino … conoscente della signora. Tu dormi della grossa: suonano alla porta e non senti … Io ho da apparecchiare, non posso far tutto io, capisci?, badare al cuoco che non sa, alla gente che viene …

      Un ampio sonoro sbadiglio, protratto nello stiramento delle membra e terminato in un nitrito per un brividore improvviso, accolse la protesta del cameriere, il quale s’allontanò esclamando:

      —E va bene!

      Micuccio sorrise, e lo seguì con gli occhi attraverso un’altra stanza in penombra fino alla vasta sala in fondo, illuminata, dove sorgeva splendida la mensa, e restò meravigliato a contemplare, finché di nuovo il ronfo non lo fece voltare a guardar la cortina.

      Il cameriere, col tovagliolo sotto il braccio, passava e ripas-

      “I’m not a relative … I’m Micuccio Bonavino, she knows … I’ve come on purpose from our hometown.”

      Upon receiving this reply, the servant deemed it suitable above all else to take back the polite lei form of address and go back to the ordinary voi; he led Micuccio into a small unlighted room near the kitchen, where someone was snoring noisily, and said to him:

      “Sit here. I’ll go and get a lamp.”

      Micuccio first looked in the direction from which the snoring was coming, but couldn’t make out anything; then he looked into the kitchen, where the cook, aided by a scullery boy, was preparing a supper. The mingled aromas of the dishes being prepared overpowered him; their effect on him was like a heady intoxication; he had hardly eaten a thing since that morning; he had traveled from Reggio di Calabria:³ a night and a full day on the train.

      The servant brought the lamp, and the person who was snoring in the room, behind a curtain hung from a cord between two walls, muttered sleepily:

      “Who is it?”

      “Hey, Dorina, get up!” the servant called. “Look, Mr. Bonvicino is here …”

      “Bonavino,” Micuccio corrected him, as he blew on his fingers.

      “Bonavino, Bonavino … an acquaintance of the mistress. You really sleep soundly: they ring at the door and you don’t hear it … I have to set the table; I can’t do everything myself, understand—keep an eye on the cook, who doesn’t know the ropes; watch for people who come to call …”

      A big, loud yawn from the maid, prolonged while she stretched and ending in a whinny caused by a sudden shiver, was her reply to the complaint of the manservant, who walked away exclaiming:

      “All right!”

      Micuccio smiled and watched him depart across another room in semidarkness until he reached the vast, well-lit salon⁴ at the far end, where the splendid supper table towered; he kept on gazing in amazement until the snoring made him turn once more and look at the curtain.

      The servant, with his napkin under his arm, passed back and

      ³In a later version, “from the province of Messina” (perhaps Reggio was thought of as the outset of the journey by rail).

      ⁴Although merely sala (room) in the story text, the site of the party is identified as a salone and reception room in the play based on the story.

      sava borbottando or contro Dorina che seguitava a dormire or contro il cuoco che doveva esser nuovo, chiamato per l’avvenimento di quella sera, e lo infastidiva chiedendo di continuo spiegazioni. Micuccio, per non infastidirlo anche lui, stimò prudente di ricacciarsi dentro tutte le domande che gli veniva di rivolgergli. Avrebbe poi dovuto dirgli o fargli intendere ch’era il fidanzato di Teresina, e non voleva, pur non sapendone il perché lui stesso, se non forse per questo, che quel cameriere allora avrebbe dovuto trattar lui Micuccio da padrone, ed egli, vedendolo così disinvolto ed elegante, quantunque ancor senza marsina, non riusciva a vincer l’impaccio che già ne provava solo a pensarci. A un certo punto però, vedendolo ripassare, non seppe tenersi dal domandargli:

      —Scusi СКАЧАТЬ