Jacinto Benavente4398386Saturday Night1923John Garrett Underhill
THE THIRD TABLEAU

Cecco's tavern.

Night.

Sailors and evil-looking persons sit about in groups, drinking and playing cards. Cecco and Gaetano move among them serving wine. Majestá, an old hag, at a table alone, apparently asleep. Pietro arid others in the background.


Third Sailor. Hand over the money; it comes to me. Bring more wine. I'll pay.

Gaetano. You will?

Second Sailor. Don't play any more.

Third Sailor. Let go!

Second Sailor. I've had enough; I take out my money.

Third Sailor. Take it out, man; take it out. It's quits. Don't talk.

Second Sailor. No, if you're going to play——

First Sailor. Going to play? Who's going to play?

Third Sailor. Come on! Hand over! Here's my pile.

Gaetano. [Aside to Cecco] Who are these people? I don't know them.

Cecco. Off a yacht which got in this morning. Can't you see the name? How does it go?

Gaetano. All right; they have money. They keep a sharp watch.

Cecco. So I see. Play them easy. No trouble to-night, do you hear? Then they won't squeal. They'll be back to-morrow.

Gaetano. I'll let them go now, if you say so…

Cecco. No. It wouldn't do. We can't empty the place. So long as they are quiet——

The Commissary of Police enters.

Commissary. Hello, Cecco!

Cecco. Hello! Anything new?

Commissary. No, nothing. We saw the Prince come in.

Cecco. Yes, he's inside.

Commissary. Who is with him?

Cecco. I don't know them all. The Englishman, those circus people.

Commissary. [Consulting a list] Let's see if I have them. Here, check them off. Lucenti, the Englishman; Nunu and Tommy of the Neapolitan troupe; Donina, Celeste, Teresina, women from the same troupe; Dick and Fred, jockeys of the Duke of Zealand; two English girls; Marcella, a cocotte—Are there any more?

Cecco. No, that's all.

Commissary. Good. If anything happens, we are outside.

Cecco. I'll send out something. It's cold to-night.

Commissary. Yes; and have it hot. There's a fog over the sea. Good night, Cecco. Who are these?

Cecco. The same as usual.

Commissary. Those sailors?

Cecco. A yacht which got in this morning. Don't you know?

Commissary. Yes, I know. Good night. [The Commissary goes out.

First Sailor. Big fish here to-night. Is it all right?

Cecco. Yes, it's all right. What you see, you see; understand? And shut up!

An Unknown. [Going up to Majestá and shaking her] Hi, there, old woman! How is it you're not at the party? Wake up!

Cecco. Let her alone. She don't trouble you.

Unknown. The Prince forgot to invite her. Maybe he didn't know she was here. You ought to have told him who you were. "I am as good as you are, your Highness. I was a queen once. They still call me Majestá!"

Others. [Laughing] Ha, ha, ha! Majestá!

Majestá. Dogs!

Cecco. Let her alone, can't you? Don't mind them, Majestá.

Majestá. I? I don't see them or hear them. They are all far away.

Third Sailor. Is she out of her head?

Pietro. No, but by this time… Don't you see? It's the wine.

Cecco. It's true, though, what she says. Take it from me. We've had people here who know. She was handsome once, and she was loved by a king. She had horses and diamonds and palaces.

Third Sailor. Palaces? Lies!

Unknown. She must have changed a lot; she must have grown old. It isn't possible! I don't believe it.

Third Sailor. But when you look at her close…

Unknown. Come, tell us the story. What king was it, eh? Where were those palaces?

Pietro. Come on, old woman! Give us the story. He was a king, was he? Palaces? They were lies!

Cecco. Let her alone, damn you!

Majestá. Fools! Dogs! What have I to say to you? Can you see, except with your eyes? You cannot understand. Look at me. Well, I was beautiful once, and pictures of my face and models of my form adorn palaces and museums. But if I took you to them and said "Look! This is I!" you would not believe it. Many have loved me, many that were great, many that were rich, many that were wise—yes, even a king. For one word of mine he would have forsaken his throne. Do you see me now? Then I was dressed in brocades and covered all with pearls—pearls that outpriced a kingdom! In a day I spent upon flowers enough to last me the rest of my life. You do not believe it? No? Look! Come here… [Pulling off a pair of old woollen mittens] Here are these hands that never worked. Do you see? They are the hands of a queen. Many have kissed them in their time—on their knees—and they thanked me for it. I am proud of them. And sometimes it is cold and I have nothing to wear, and sometimes I am hungry and have nothing to eat, but I never want for gloves. Look at them! Are they not the hands of a queen?

Pietro. It's true. She's right.

Unknown. Something had to be left her. You can still let them kiss your hands.

Majestá. You might have all the riches of kings, you might conquer the earth, you might raise yourselves upon thrones, yet your children would not have such hands.

Pietro. Slippery hands, to let so much slide through them.

Unknown. They might have kept something more than their whiteness. She wouldn't be where she is now if what she said was true.

Majestá. These hands never learned to save. Jewels ran through them like water through a fountain, and were scattered as they ran.

Unknown. You must have given away lots of money.

Pietro. And done much good.

Majestá. Good or evil, as it came. People came to me who were poor, people came to me who were bad—it was all the same. If one were to stop to think! We must pass the good things of life along. Would you refuse a penny for fear that it was to buy drink? That is enough to make the devil laugh. To some, drink is more than meat. Can beggars eat flowers? But the earth gives us flowers. The heart is dried up that will not give of its flowers.

Pietro. She's right.

Unknown. She speaks the truth. Poor old woman!

Cecco. I told you she wasn't crazy. Come, boys, buy her a drink.

Pietro. Let her have what she wants.

Majestá. I don't care. What you've got.

Third Sailor. Champagne, eh? Champagne—for a queen!

Unknown. Champagne! At least champagne! Bring champagne. Here's the money.

Pietro. Have you champagne?

Cecco. To-night, yes. I'll bring it—if it's not a joke…

Unknown. If the Prince won't invite you, we will.

Majestá. The Prince of Suavia? I knew the Emperor; I can see him now on his white horse. Then he was heir apparent. He must be very old. And I knew the Princess Etelvina, the mother of this Prince. She was a little child, and I kissed her.

Cecco. The champagne. Bring glasses.

Pietro. To her Majesty! Up! Would you like to live long, Majestá?

Majestá. Why not? As God wills.

Pietro. Then—to your health!

Majestá. And yours, and happiness! It is not too late for you. Yes, it is champagne.

Cecco. What did you think?

Majestá. That it was a dream. It is so long since I tasted champagne… God reward you for it. Another glass! It is a rare wine, and this is not bad champagne. I know, Cecco.

Pietro. You are not the only majesty who's here to-night.

Imperia and Zaida appear in the doorway.

Imperia. Is this the place?

Zaida. Yes, Signora. Are you afraid?

Imperia. Why should I be afraid? My home was like this. Come in.

Pietro. [Discovering Imperia] Another Queen! Ha! This is a night of queens.

Cecco. Silence!

Pietro. Is that the way you looked, Majestá?

Unknown. Do you know this Queen?

Majestá. Queen? Bah! No more than I was! No, I don't know her. The queens that I knew are all dead or have grown old.

Imperia. Where is the Prince? Don't attempt to deny it; I know he is here. I know who is with him.

Cecco. Was he expecting you? They said nothing…

Imperia. No, he was not expecting me. Wait… [She scribbles something with a pencil upon a piece of paper] Give him this and bring me back the answer. At once!

Cecco. It may… but… Won't you sit down?

Imperia. I'll wait here. Is there no other place?

Cecco. No. Only a hole there—up-stairs.

Imperia. Don't be long.

Cecco. It's all right; they won't hurt you. They're good fellows. Don't be afraid.

Imperia. I am not afraid.

Zaida. Signora! I ought not to have told you!

Imperia. Why not? Why should I be afraid? The place and the people do not seem strange; it is I who seem strange.

Pietro. [To Majestá] Yes, give her a glass. Invite her. You ought to do it—among friends!

Unknown. Yes, between queens! Do the honors. You ought.

Majestá. [Staggering to her feet; then, with a drunken leer] Here… Let me have it… [Offering a glass to Imperia] Lady…

Zaida. [Alarmed] Ay!

Imperia. Don't be afraid. What is it, my poor woman?

Majestá. Your Majesty, I… I also am a Queen… a Queen… Majestá… Don't you know me?

Pietro. Don't mind her. She won't hurt you. She's only a bit out of her head.

Majestá. To-night I'm holding a feast in my palace. I offer you a glass of champagne. Drink! It will not hurt you. It is not poison. I have no reason to wish you harm. You cannot hurt me. I am happy, oh, so happy! Who can take this happiness away? But they are not all like this. No! There are bad people—bad! Take care! And they have done me harm, much harm. But I… I have harmed nobody! Nobody! That's the reason I am so happy! That's the happiness that none can take away!

Zaida. Signora! Come, let us go__

Imperia. No, I must hear her. These are the discords, the broken harmonies of the mad. They fascinate me. There is something wild and eerie in them, which may prove prophetic in the end. Come here, my poor woman. [Offering money.

Majestá. Gold! Do you see? It is gold! More champagne! [Throwing down the money] Champagne!

Pietro. Here! Pick it up I You'll need it.

Majestá. Need it? No, no! Never! It's for you! I never need anything any more. Champagne! Bring champagne! [She falls senseless.

Harry Lucenti enters.

Harry Lucenti. Imperia!

Imperia. The Prince?

Harry Lucenti. The Prince requests me to offer you my arm—now that you have come so far. Will you join us?

Imperia. Does the Prince know why I have come?

Harry Lucenti. Pleasure, perhaps; jealousy…

Imperia. Of whom?

Harry Lucenti. We saw you at the circus this evening.

Imperia. And you imagined something monstrous of me, something worthy of the Prince and yourself?

Harry Lucenti. A little something of the sort. The Prince will be delighted to see you. Will you accept my arm?

Imperia. Take me in. [A piercing cry] What is that?

Cecco. [Enters, running] What's the matter?

Harry Lucenti. Who cried out?

Cecco. [Closing the door] Silence. Sit down! Quiet! Nobody moves! [Runs out.

Unknown. What's the matter?

Cecco re-enters with Tommy, supporting the Prince; also Celeste, Teresina, Nelly, Fanny, and the two jockeys, followed immediately by Nunu, Donina, and Marcella, all in the greatest confusion.

Some. What's the matter? What has happened?

Cecco. The Prince!

Imperia. Blood!

Harry Lucenti. Are you hurt?

Sailors and Others. Up! Up! What's wrong? Out! Out!

Cecco. [To Gaetano] Lock the door! Stand by! God! Nobody moves!

Gaetano draws a knife and stands by the door.

Pietro. Room there! Back! Or…

They draw knives and daggers.

Cecco. No! No you don't! You'd only run into the police. They'd pull us all. Order! Quiet! Sit down!

Nunu. [Furiously to Donina] It was you! You did it! We are ruined!

Donina. Yes! It was I! I! It was not you! You coward!

Imperia. You?

Donina. He sold me! Do you hear? He sold me! Coward! Coward!

Celeste. But they're not going to let him die like this?

Cecco. No one leaves this room.

Harry Lucenti. No blood? He bleeds internally; a bad sign. He'll never get up.

Cecco. The police! They've heard us. Run! Quick! Sit down! If they knock we'll have to open. Keep cool! This blood—[He overturns a bottle] There! Sit down! And you… Get around him! Back! Hold him up! So… And you there, sing—sing and dance! Music! The police! Sh!… Quiet!…

All do as he tells them.

Donina. My God! My God!

Nunu. [Striking her] Dance! Dance, I tell you!

The music strikes up.

Nunu, Donina, Zaida, and Tommy begin the tarantella.

The Commissary of Police enters.

Commissary. What's this noise? What's the matter?

Cecco. Nothing! You see…

Commissary. We heard cries…

Cecco. The supper. Too much wine, eh? Is it so? Nobody knows what he's at. They're in fine spirits. The Prince can hardly sit up. Ah! There he is… We shut the door so that nobody could come in. It's late. Have a drop?

Commissary. No, thanks. Good night.

Cecco. Good night!

At the door, keeping his eyes riveted on those in the tavern until the Commissary is out of sight; then to those within:

Go on! Go on! Keep it up!

The women who have been sitting at the Prince's side spring up terrified. The Prince rolls under the table.

Celeste. Dead!

Teresina. Ay!

Wild confusion. All rush for the door.

Cecco. Ruined! Lost! Now what are we to do? No one leaves this room!

Nunu. [Threatening violence] Open the door! Let us out!

Cecco. No! It's no use. The police have got your names. They'd pick you all up, one by one. We stand or fall together.

Imperia. Harry! Take him to my house—in my carriage. It's the only way. They must not find him here. Then we can think. Are you ready?

Harry Lucenti. Yes. Come on! Quick!

Cecco. Are you going to take him away? Yes, it's the best. But wait… There may be people in the street. A moment… Wait… I'll draw off the police. Sit down! And you there—come on! Come on! One at a time. Pass out as if nothing had happened. Order! Quiet!

Pietro. The first man who opens his mouth…

Unknown. Not a word! Silence! It's for all.

Cecco. And you—sing and dance! Damn you! Dance!

Donina. [Falling exhausted] I can't dance any more! Not if they kill me!

Cecco. [Going up to Majestá] This woman has seen nothing… The others will say nothing.

Harry Lucenti. [At the Prince's side] He is dead. Cold already!

Imperia. Yes. Dead! Dead! How horrible!

Curtain