Читать книгу One, None and a Hundred-thousand - Luigi Pirandello - Страница 6

Table of Contents

From that day on, I longed most ardently to be alone, if only for an hour. It was really more than a longing; it was a need, a sharp and pressing, a restless need, which was aggravated to the point of fury by the presence or proximity of my wife.

"Did you hear what Michelina said yesterday, Gengè?* Quantorzo has something urgent to talk to you about."

[* My wife had coined this diminutive out of Vitangelo, which is my real name, and was in the habit of calling me by it; not without reason, as will be seen further on.]

"Look and see, Gengè, if my legs show with my dress this way."

"Gengè, the clock has stopped."

"Aren't you taking the dog out any more, Gengè? She'll ruin the carpets, then, and you'll scold her. You really ought to, you know, poor little beast—-I mean—I'm not saying that—She hasn't been out since yesterday."

"Aren't you afraid, Gengè, that Anna Rosa may be ill? We haven't seen anything of her for three days now, and the last time she was here, she had a sore throat."

"Signor Firbo was here, Gengè. He said he would be back later. Couldn't you arrange to see him somewhere else? Good Lord, what a bore!"

Or else, I heard her singing:

E se mi dici di no,

caro il mio bene, doman non verrò;

doman non verrò...

doman non verrò...*

[* "And if you say me no, my darling one, I will not come tomorrow," etc. (Translator.)]

But why didn't you shut yourself in your room and blindfold your eyes if necessary?

My friends, that shows you do not understand the way in which I wanted to be alone.

The only place where I could shut myself in was my study; and even here, I did not dare put the bolt on the door, from fear of arousing unpleasant suspicions in my wife, who was, I shall not say an unpleasant woman, but a highly suspicious one. And supposing that, opening the door suddenly, she had discovered me?

No, it would not do. And anyway, it would have been useless. There were no mirrors in my study. I had need of a mirror. Furthermore, the mere thought of my wife's being in the house was sufficient to keep me in the presence of myself, which was exactly what I did not want.

What does being alone mean to you?

Keeping your own company, without any stranger about.

Ah, well, I can assure you, it's a fine way, that, of being alone. A charming little window opens for you in memory, at which, smilingly, between a vase of pinks and one of jasmine, you catch sight of Titti, knitting away at a red woolen muffler, good Lord, like the one which that impossible old Signor Giacomino wears about his neck, for whom you have not yet written that letter of introduction to the president of the Association of Charities, your good friend but another terrible bore, especially when he starts talking about the fraudulent conduct of his private secretary, the one who yesterday—no, when was it?—the day before yesterday, the day it rained and the public square looked like a lake with all the raindrops glistening in a merry sprinkling of sunlight, and in the corsa, Lord, what a medley, the basin, the newspaper-kiosk, the tramcar threading its way through the junction and making so horrible a noise at the turn, that dog running away; but enough of this; you made your way into a billiard parlor where the secretary to the president of the Association of Charities was; and what repressed laughter there was under the big bristling mustaches, over your discomfiture, when you started playing with friend Carlino, or Quintadecima. And then? What happened then, when you came out of the billiard parlor? Under a languishing lamp, in the moist and deserted street, a poor melancholy drunkard was endeavoring to sing an old Neapolitan ditty, one which, all these years ago, you used to hear almost every night, in that mountain village among the chestnuts, where you had gone for an outing in order to be near that darling Mimi of yours, who afterwards married the old Commendator Della Venera and died a year later. Dear, dear Mimi! There she is, see her? at another tiny window opening for you in memory—

Yes, yes, good people, I assure you, that is a fine way of being alone, that is!