Leading Lady. One can't hear a word.
Juvenile Lead. Louder! Louder please!
The Step-Daughter [leaving MADAME PACE, who smiles a Sphinx-like smile, and advancing towards the actors ]. Louder? Louder? What are you talking about? These aren't matters which can be shouted at the top of one's voice. If I have spoken them out loud, it was to shame him and have my revenge. [Indicates FATHER.] But for Madame it's quite a different matter.
The Manager. Indeed? Indeed? But here, you know, people have got to make themselves heard, my dear. Even we who are on the stage can't hear you. What will it be when the public's in the theatre? And anyway, you can very well speak up now among yourselves, since we shan't be present to listen to you as we are now. You've got to pretend to be alone in a room at the back of a shop where no one can hear you.
[The STEP-DAUGHTER coquettishly and with a touch of malice makes a sign of disagreement two or three times with her finger. ]
The Manager. What do you mean by no?
The Step-Daughter [sotto voce, mysteriously ]. There's someone who will hear us if she [Indicating MADAME PACE.] speaks out loud.
The Manager [in consternation ]. What? Have you got someone else to spring on us now? [The ACTORS burst out laughing. ]
The Father. No, no sir. She is alluding to me. I've got to be here – there behind that door, in waiting; and Madame Pace knows it. In fact, if you will allow me, I'll go there at once, so I can be quite ready. [Moves away. ]
The Manager [stopping him ]. No! Wait! Wait! We must observe the conventions of the theatre. Before you are ready . . .
The Step-Daughter [interrupting him ]. No, get on with it at once! I'm just dying, I tell you, to act this scene. If he's ready, I'm more than ready.
The Manager [shouting ]. But, my dear young lady, first of all, we must have the scene between you and this lady . . . [Indicates MADAME PACE.] Do you understand? . . .
The Step-Daughter. Good heavens! She's been telling me what you know already: that mamma's work is badly done again, that the material's ruined; and that if I want her to continue to help us in our misery I must be patient . . .
Madame Pace [coming forward with an air of great importance ]. Yes indeed, sir, I no wanta take advantage of her, I no wanta be hard . . .
[Note. MADAME PACE is supposed to talk in a jargon half Italian, half English. ]
The Manager [alarmed ]. What? What? She talks like that? [The ACTORS burst out laughing again. ]
The Step-Daughter [also laughing ]. Yes yes, that's the way she talks, half English, half Italian! Most comical it is!
Madame Pace. Itta seem not verra polite gentlemen laugha atta me eef I trya best speaka English.
The Manager. Diamine! Of course! Of course! Let her talk like that! Just what we want. Talk just like that, Madame, if you please! The effect will be certain. Exactly what was wanted to put a little comic relief into the crudity of the situation. Of course she talks like that! Magnificent!
The Step-Daughter. Magnificent? Certainly! When certain suggestions are made to one in language of that kind, the effect is certain, since it seems almost a joke. One feels inclined to laugh when one hears her talk about an "old signore" "who wanta talka nicely with you." Nice old signore, eh, Madame?
Madame Pace. Not so old my dear, not so old! And even if you no lika him, he won't make any scandal!
The Mother [jumping up amid the amazement and consternation of the actors who had not been noticing her. THEY move to restrain her ]. You old devil! You murderess!
The Step-Daughter [running over to calm her MOTHER]. Calm yourself, Mother, calm yourself! Please don't …
The Father [going to her also at the same time ]. Calm yourself! Don't get excited! Sit down now!
The Mother. Well then, take that woman away out of my sight!
The Step-Daughter [to MANAGER]. It is impossible for my mother to remain here.
The Father [to MANAGER]. They can't be here together. And for this reason, you see: that woman there was not with us when we came . . . If they are on together, the whole thing is given away inevitably, as you see.
The Manager. It doesn't matter. This is only a first rough sketch – just to get an idea of the various points of the scene, even confusedly . . . [Turning to the MOTHER and leading her to her chair. ] Come along, my dear lady, sit down now, and let's get on with the scene . . .
[Meanwhile, the STEP-DAUGHTER, coming forward again, turns to MADAME PACE.]
The Step-Daughter. Come on, madame, come on!
Madame Pace [offended ]. No, no, grazie. I not do anything witha your mother present.
The Step-Daughter. Nonsense! Introduce this "old signore" who wants to talk nicely to me. [Addressing the COMPANY imperiously. ] We've got to do this scene one way or another, haven't we? Come on! [To MADAME PACE.] You can go!
Madame Pace. Ah yes! I go'way! I go'way! Certainly! [Exits furious. ]
The Step-Daughter [to the FATHER]. Now you make your entry. No, you needn't go over here. Come here. Let's suppose you've already come in. Like that, yes! I'm here with bowed head, modest like. Come on! Out with your voice! Say "Good morning, Miss" in that peculiar tone, that special tone . . .
The Manager. Excuse me, but are you the manager, or am I? [To the FATHER, who looks undecided and perplexed. ] Get on with it, man! Go down there to the back of the stage. You needn't go off. Then come right forward here.
[The FATHER does as he is told, looking troubled and perplexed at first. But as soon as he begins to move, the reality of the action affects him, and he begins to smile and to be more natural. The ACTORS watch intently. ]
The Manager [sotto voce, quickly to the PROMPTER in his box ]. Ready! Ready? Get ready to write now.
The Father [coming forward and speaking in a different tone ]. Good afternoon, Miss!
The Step-Daughter [head bowed down slightly, with restrained disgust ]. Good afternoon!
The Father [looks under her hat which partly covers her face. Perceiving she is very young, he makes an exclamation, partly of surprise, partly of fear lest he compromise himself in a risky adventure ]. Ah . . . But . . . Ah . . . I say . . . This is not the first time that you have come here, is it?
The Step-Daughter [modestly ]. No sir.
The Father. You've been here before, eh? [Then seeing her nod agreement. ] More than once? [Waits for her to answer, looks under her hat, smiles, and then says. ] Well then, there's no need to be so shy, is there? May I take off your hat?
The Step-Daughter [anticipating him and with veiled disgust ]. No sir . . . I'll do it myself. [Takes it off quickly. ]
[The MOTHER, who watches the progress of the scene with The SON and the other two children who cling to her, is on thorns; and follows with varying expressions of sorrow, indignation, anxiety, and horror the words and actions of the other two. From time to time SHE hides her face in her hands and sobs. ]