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DRAFT2—WILLAMETTE—REVISED October 19, 2018 Servant of Two Masters Written by Carlo Goldoni and freely adapted by Kevin Otos, copyright 2014 “Comedy makes the subversion of the existing state of affairs possible” –Dario Fo

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Pantalone, a Venetian merchant. Masked Clarice, his daughter. Not masked. Doctor Hume. Masked. [Doctor Lombardi in the original] Silvio, his son. Not masked Beatrice Rasponi, a lady of Turin, disguised as her brother Federigo Rasponi. Not masked. Florindo Aretusi, of Turin, lover of Beatrice. Not masked. Brighella, an Innkeeper. Masked. Smeraldina, maidservant to Clarice. Masked [this character would not have been masked in the original.] Truffaldino, servant first to Beatrice, and afterwards to Florindo. Masked. Sceptilino. Masked. [the First Waiter in the original] Decrepelino. Masked. [both the First Porter and the Second Waiter in the original] Gruffalino. Masked. [Second Porter in the original] Pietra Pannini, the Bread Elf. Evokes a sense of Peter Pan [Does not exist in the original] Crouton, hard edged side kick to Pietra Pannini [Does not exist in the original]

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SCENES ACT I

Intro/Curtain Speech Scene 1,2,3: A Room in the House of Pantalone.

Scene 4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11: A Street near Brighella's Pensione.

Scene 12,13,14,15: A Room in the House of Pantalone.

ACT II

Scene 1,2,3,4,5,6,7:

A Room in the House of Pantalone.

Scene 4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11: A Street near Brighella's Pensione. Scene 12,13,14,15: A Room in the House of Pantalone.

ACT II

Scene 1,2,3,4,5,6,7: Scene 8,9,10,11,12:

A Street near Pantalone's House.

Scene 8,9,10,11,12: A Room in Brighella's Pensione. INTERMISSION

Scene 14,15,16,17,18: A Street near Brighella's Pensione.

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ACT III Scene 1,2,3: A Room in Brighella's Pensione.

Scene 4,5: A Street near Pantalone’s House Scene 6,7,8,9: A Room in Brighella's Pensione.

Scene 10,11,12,13: A Room in the House of Pantalone.

Curtain Speech (optional)

[Enter Pantalone and Doctor in mask. They speak once they are downstage center. Also, Enter Silvio, Clarice, Smeraldina, Brighella who stand upstage and listen.]

Pant. Hello, and welcome to Williamette [pronounced William Et] University’s Servant of Two Masters.

Doc. It’s Willamette, damn it. [pronounced correctly]

Pant. Gotta love that learning. Before we begin, we would like to make some announcements.

Doc. Silence all cell phones, if I hear them I will take them!

Pant. Exits are there, there, and here and here. [indicating the various doors into the theatre] In case of an emergency--

Doc. --Like a fire--

Pant. Proceed calmly to the nearest exit.

Doc. Or just run.

Pant. Or get some marshmallows! The choice is yours!

Doc. That makes me hungry. If you’d like a snack, an “apperitvo in teatro” so to speak, wait until intermission and then share with me!

Pant. Excellent.

Doc. Extraordinary.

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Pant. Enjoy the show!

[Silvio, Clarice, Smeraldina, Brighella move into places of the first stage picture.. Doctor and Pantalone join them, light change, and we are in our play]

The Scene is laid in VENICE in 1710.

ACT I

SCENE 1; I,1

A room in the house of Pantalone.

Pantalone, the Doctor, Clarice, Silvio, Brighella, Smeraldina.

Sil. [offering his hand to Clar.]. Here is my hand, and with it I give you 100% of my heart. The portfolio of my passion is yours.

Pant. [to Clar.]. Come daughter, don’t be shy, give him your hand. Then you’ll be engaged, and once all financial matters are settled, you two shall be married.

Clar. My dear Silvio, I promise to be your wife. Here is my hand, and like a billion percent of my heart and passion. [all react; “that’s a lot” “big number” “makes no sense” etc.]

Sil. And my dear Clarice, I promise to re-invest the dividends of our love, and be your husband. Clar. Forever and ever? Sil: Totally. And praying for—in time—our own 2 to 3 stock split. Smer. [aside] That’s money-talk for having babies. [all “ahhh”, “that’s so sweet” “money” “babies” etc]

[They take

hands

Doc. Well said son. Now it’s done, and there's no going back.

Smer. [aside]. Lucky girl! I wish I could find a husband! I don’t know why!

Pant. [to Brig. and Smer.]. You two, Brighella and Smeraldina, are witnesses to the engagement of my daughter Clarice to Signor Silvio, the worthy son of our good Doctor Who!

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Doc. Uh, Hume. Pant. Hume? Doc. Who moved to Genoa. Pant: What? Doc. What lives in Padua. Pant. Well…thank you Doctor Hume.

Brig. [to Pant. Breaking awkward moment.]. Sir, I am grateful for this honor.

Pant. And I am grateful to you! Let’s all eat together—enjoy a quiet meal tonight and wait ‘til the wedding feast to get our freak on. [To Clar. and Sil.] What say you, children?

Sil. I desire only to be near my beloved bride-to-be.

Smer. [aside]. Yes, that's the tastiest dish of all.

Doc. That’s my boy: he loves your daughter and is fully invested, enamored,—obsessed.

Pant. Truly we can say this merger—I mean marriage—was made in Heaven: for had it not been for the recent death in Turin of Federigo Rasponi—the noble and wealthy son of my deceased business associate—this marriage could not happen. Federigo Rasponi, as I’m sure you recall, was betrothed to my daughter, contracted years ago to strengthen our business. Yes, if it had not been for the sudden death of Federigo Rasponi, then I could not have given my daughter Clarice to my soon-to-be son-in-law, Silvio.

Sil. I am fortunate indeed, sir, though I know not if Clarice will say the same.

Clar. Don’t tease me Silvio; I am fortunate to have your heart. Though I would have been forced to marry Signor Federigo in obedience to my father. But fortunately Signor Federigo is dead; and my heart Silvio has always been yours. [all “oo and ah, that’s so sweet”, “he’s dead” “in the ground” etc.]

Doc. Multus fortunantus! Glad tidings for all concerned; except Federigo Rasponi! [all laugh] [To Pant.] How did Federigo Rasponi die?

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Pant. In a fight. Some argument concerning his sister: he was run thru with a sword, and died in the street. It’s sad when the wealthy come to such violent ends.

Brig. Done-in in Turin: I’m sorry to hear it.

Pant. [to Brig.]. Did you know Federigo Rasponi?

Brig. Yes I did, sir. I worked three years in Turin. I knew his twin sister too—a high-spirited Lady—secretly dressed like a man at times and even rode horses. [all “ahh” “how very manly” etc.] Signor Federigo loved her more than anything.

Pant. Well, death awaits us all….But not today! [they all knock wood and laugh] No more sad talk. Good master Brighella, pray use your skill—some of your best dishes.

Brig. My pleasure sir—you shall taste the finest! And for a nominal charge, I’ll super-size the engagement package just for you!

Pant. Good; bring it! [aside to Brig. aloud] And something with gravy, it feels good on my teeth. [A knock at the door.] Oh! Smeraldina, get the door.

Smer. Yes, sir. [aside] Livin’ the dream! [Goes to door

Clar. [wishing to retire alone with Silvio] Sir, may I beg your leave?

Pant. You’re staying right here: we will dine together.

Smer. [coming back]. Sir, there’s a gentleman's servant outside with a message. He refused to give it to me, and says he must speak directly to you, the master.

Pant. Well show him in: we'll hear what he has to say.

[Smer. takes to audience and exits.] Clar. May we go, sir?

Pant. And where madam?

Clar. I don’t know—my bedroom— [Pant, Doc, Brig, express shock]

Pant. No, no, no; stay here. [Aside to Doc.] Young love must be supervised until the wedding.

Doc. [aside to Pant.]. Yes: semper prudentus.

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Pant: –“Earnings must not to market”— Doc: —And “though the magma bubble, the lava must not flow”— Pant: Yes.

[Enter Smeraldina with Truffaldino]

SCENE 2; I,2

[big physical entrance for Truffaldino., he addresses audience, and other characters—a whirlwind of energy and precision]

Truff. My most humble duty to the ladies and gentlemen— The crème de la crème! The half-and-half to the skim milk of this world. Ve-ry fine, indeed! [Truff is drawn to the women]

Pant. Who are you? and what’s your business?

Truff. [to Pant., pointing to Clar.]. Who’s this fair gentlewoman?

Pant. That is my daughter.

Truff. Happy to hear it.

Smer. [to Truff.]. She’s engaged.

Truff. Sorry to hear it, but who are you?

Smer. I am her maid, sir.

Truff. She has excellent tastes. [Smeraldina is flattered]

Pant. Come, sir, to the point: What do you want? who are you? who sends you?

Truff. Patience, patience, and patience my good sir: breathe.

Pant. [aside to Doc.]. The man's a fool.

Doc. [aside to Pant.]. Certainly playing the fool.

Truff. [to Smer.]. Are you getting married?

Smer. [sighs]. Alas, no, sir. But a girl can dream.

Pant. Will you tell me who you are, or will you go about your business?

Truff. I'll tell you in two words: I am the servant of my master. [Turns to Smer.]

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Now, you were saying—

Pant. But who is your master?

Truff. [to Pant.]. He is a gentleman who desires the honor of paying his respects to you. [To Smer.] Where were we? Marriage?

Pant. Who is this gentleman? What is his name?

Truff. Oh, my master is Signor Federigo Rasponi of Turin, and he sends his compliments, and he has come to see you, and he waits in the street, and he sends me to say that he would like to come up, and he's waiting for an answer. Anything else? [All look surprised.] [To Smer., as before.] My name’s Truffaldino, what’s yours?

Pant. What did you say?

Truff. I am Truffaldino Bottocchio from Bergamo: servant by trade, and looking to better my subjugation. Doc.: Where did you study? Truff: OTJ! I’m the best this side of the river Po and have very little to show for it. Pant: Times are tough for everyone. Truff. [looking around] I do not believe you. Doc: Do you like being a servant? Truff: Does a pig like being prosciutto? Doc: Wit, wit indeed!

Pant. Stop! Wit or no wit, pig or no pig: Tell me again, who is this master of yours? I’m afraid I didn’t hear you right.

Truff. [aside] Must be deaf. [to Pant.] My master is Signor Federigo Rasponi of Turin.

Pant. You’re crazy. Signor Federigo Rasponi of Turin is dead.

Truff. Dead?

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Pant. Dead, dreadful luck for him.

Truff. [aside]. Mon dieu! my master’s dead? He was just alive! [To Pant.] You say he’s dead?

Pant. Definitely dead.

Doc. Dead; no doubt about it.

Truff. [aside]. Alas poor master! Death heeds no boss; that’s life. [To Pant. as if exiting.] Your very humble servant, sir. Serving is hard but being unemployed is even harder.

Pant. Are you finished?

Truff. If he's dead, I am finished—alone in a strange city. [Aside.] But I'm gonna make sure it’s true. [to Smeraldina] I hope we meet again.

[Exit Truffaldino]

Pant. What a strange fellow. Is he a scallywag, a shyster, or just an idiot?

Doc. “D: all of the above.”

Brig. Looks like a zanni to me, a servant from Bergamo.

Smer. [Aside.] He’s so dee-lish! I want to eat his face!

Pant. But what’s this nonsense about Signor Federigo?

Clar. If it’s true indeed, that it is he/, it would be the worst of news, for me./

Sil. If he’s alive, he’s late/ his arrival, will earn my hate./ Smer. [aside] Love me some rhyme!

[Re-enter Truffaldino]

Truff. Are those the manners your mother taught you?! Is that the way to treat a poor man, a workin’ man? How I am served!

Pant. [to Doc.]. The man's crazy. [To Truff.] What's the matter? what have we done to you?

Truff. You told me Signor Federigo Rasponi was dead!

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Doc. Definitely Sil. Decidedly

Pant. Dead.

Truff. Well, well, well—he’s alive!—he’s a’ breathing and his hearts a’beating , and he desires to pay his respects to you.

Pant. Signor Federigo?

Truff. Federigo.

Pant. Rasponi?

Truff. Rasponi.

Pant. Of Turin?

Truff. Of Turin.

Pant. Get oughta town! Balls, balls and triple balls! Truff: Breathe. I’m just a zanni, but I tell you he’s downstairs on the street. For the love of God let him in before he gets really mad and starts beating his servant—me!

Pant. Good idea, I’ll beat you myself. I’ll two bit ya! I’ll wing-nut ya!

[mayhem here as Pantalone tries to strike Truffaldino—Doctor, who is holding Pantalone back, interrupts]

Doc. No, no, Signor Pantalone; time for a new stratego: Tell him to bring in this person he says is Federigo Rasponi.

Pant. [to Doc] Smart man! [to Truff] Well, go ahead, bring him in, this Lazarus.

Truff. He may have died and risen from the dead—that's not my business—but he's alive now, sure enough, a’breathing and a’beatin, and his name isn’t Lazarus: it’s Federigo Rasponi. [Angrily to Pant.] I'll go and get ‘em since your courtesy’s broken!!![To Smer.] Chill my angel hair pasta; I’ll be right back. Smer. Don’t be long. [aside] Isn’t he a dream?

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[Exit Truffaldino]

Clar. [aside to Silvio] Silvio, I am all a tremble.

Sil. [aside to Clarice] Still your trembles: whatever happens, you shall be mine.

Doc. Soon we shall discover the definite truth.

Pant. Sure he’s some peasant-shyster, a scallywag peddling a string of lies.

Brig. Sir, like I said, I knew Signor Federigo Rasponi; we shall see if this be he.

Smer. [aside]. The little guy’s got some gumption. I hope he’s not a shyster; plenty of those around here. [curtsey to Pant.]. By you leave, sir. [aside] I do hope to see him again. As much as I’d like to watch the action unfold, I’ve got to get to work. Livin’ the dream! [Exit Smeraldina]

[Enter Beatrice, dressed as a man]

Beat. Signor Pantalone, your courteous correspondences and elegant investor updates are clearly a cruel hoax; your treatment of me has been terrible, and I am sad to say rather middle class. [all gasp] Not what I would expect from a man of wealth and station. I send my servant to pay you my respects, and you keep me on the street without so much as a properly iced champagne or a “just a minute while the servants tidy up” or anything.

Pant. [nervously]. I’m sorry, but do I know you?

Beat. Your loyal business partner, co-investor and, God willing, soon to be son- in-law, Federigo Rasponi of Turin. [All look bewildered.]

Pant. Extraordinary! Doc: Death defying!

Brig. [aside]. Puzzling! This is not Federigo, this is his sister Beatrice.

Pant. Good to see you, sir, alive and a’breathing with your heart a’beating etc, but a bit surprising given the bad news we recently received.

Beat. I’ve heard those nasty rumors: that I was killed in a duel. Ha-ha! My wound was superficial, thanks be to God. Within moments I was restored to my full potency—hoo-yuh! I then set forth to Venice, according to our previous arrangement in matters both material and matrimonial. Hoo-Hoo-yuh! [with pelvic thrust proving her “manhood.”]

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[Clarice quickly faints and his caught by Silvio, she quickly revives and all continues.]

Pant. Well, this is baffling. Here you stand, yet I have received news from reliable sources that Signor Federigo is dead, run thru in a duel, and if you cannot provide proof to the contrary—

Beat. Your skepticism does you credit. Assertions require evidence. Here is proof of my identity: letters from our common business associates, key investors, and a letter from the Doge requesting a campaign donation. Please review them: you will be satisfied. [Gives letters to Pant. who reads them to himself.]

Clar. [aside to Silvio] OMG Silvio, we are lost.

Sil. [aside to Clarice] I will lose my life before I lose you. Brig. [to Beatrice] It is good to see you again, sirrrrrr???

Beat. [Aloud to Brig.] Frienddddd, you look familiar, have we met? [aside] Brighella! What’s he doing in Venice? If he gives me away…

Brig. Indeed “sirrrrr”, we have; surely you remember Brighella of Turin?

Beat. Of course: Brighella!. [Goes up to him.] And what are you doing in Venice? [Aside to Brig.] For God’s sake don’t give me away.

Brig. [aside to Beat.]. I don’t give anything away, but service can be purchased—we understand each other. [Aloud] I’m a small business owner now—“Brighella’s Pensione and Fine Dining:” an exceptional, well-appointed establishment worthy of the richest society. I also own “Scraps”, a working-class snack-shack serving the refuse of the richest society: [sings the jingle] “When you want to grab a bite/ but your wallet’s kinda light/ tonight’s the night that you just might/try the gently-used food at Scraps./ Scraps!/ Food for the working class!” We will soon open a second location! Beat. Catchy tune! Very good. I shall lodge at “Brighella’s Pensione and Fine Dining.”

Brig. You honor me, “sir.” You shall have the finest suite at “Brighella’s,” I’m sure you can afford it. [Aside] What’s she up to? Wherever there’s a Rasponni there’s a money-making scheme, and wherever there’s a scheme, there will always be Brighella!

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Pant. These letters present Signor Federigo Rasponi to me, and since you present them, it follows that you are he.

Beat. For further assurance, here is master Brighella; he can swear I am indeed Rasponi.

Brig. I most certainly can.

Pant. Thank you Brighella, I am satisfied. Dear Signor Federigo, forgive me these slights. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.

Clar. So, this is Federigo Rasponi?

Pant. Yes, that’s what we’ve been talking about.

Clar. [aside to Sil.]. Aye me! My heart flutters and my brain palpitates—what will become of us?

Sil. [aside to Clar.]. Fear not my love, you are mine and I will protect you.

Pant. Well, there’s nothing to be done dear Doctor; that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

Doc. “Discoverus custodus!” Finders keepers…we had an agreement!

Beat. [pointing to Clar.]. Pardon me Signor Pantalone, but who is that young lady?

Pant. That is my daughter Clarice.

Beat. The one promised to me in marriage, that we may knit together both our families and fortunes?

Pant. Precisely, sir; that is she.

Beat. [to Clar.]. Madam, permit me to have the honor.

Clar. [chilly]. Your most humble servant.

Beat. [to Pant.]. Frosty. And with a touch of side-eye.

Pant. [putting hands up in the air] Kids.

Beat. [to Pant., pointing at Sil.]. And how is this gentleman related to you?

Pant. Sir, my... uh, nephew—

Sil. [to Beat.]. No, sir, I am not his nephew; I am the promised husband to Clarice

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his daughter.

Doc. [aside to Sil.]. Here here! Carpe! Stand up for your rights, and don’t get killed!

Beat. You are ridiculous! You cannot be the promised husband to his daughter Clarice because I am the promised husband to his daughter Clarice!

Pant. Allow me to explain. My dear Signor Federigo, we had heard, from reliable sources, that you were killed in a duel, so we thought you were dead. So, I promised my daughter Clarice to Signor Silvio, the Doctor’s son, but don’t you worry, sir, there’s “no harm done.” You have arrived “just in time” if you know what I mean! As a gentleman, I am obligated to keep my word to you, and so Clarice, my daughter, is yours. Signor Silvio, it’s a crazy world—don’t take it personally—and know that I wish you the absolute best in all your future endeavors.

Sil. I’m not some form letter: Clarice loves me! And surely Signor Federigo will never consent to take a wife who has given her heart to another.

Beat. Oh, I don’t mind. To knit my family and fortune to Signor Pantalone’s is worth the effort, and I can appreciate a little sport in domestic affairs. [Aside] It’s the man thing. Hoo-yuh!

Doc. You are so last century! I am astonished we’re even having this conversation!

Beat. Clarice shall not refuse my hand, her father will see to that.

Sil. But her father, you, and your hand are too late. Clarice is mine, and we will never yield to this preposterous proposal. If you wrong me I will be revenged on you Pantalone, and you, and anyone else. Be prepared to recon with this sword.

Doc. Yes, stand up!

Beat. [aside]. I am the man!

Doc. Sir, a cocky attitude and a flush portfolio doesn’t give you license to go around wrecking peoples’ lives! You have heard my son: you are too late. Clarice will marry my Silvio. You were dead when the contract was made. The law, the law, sir, is clear on this point. “Tarde in tempore, primo in amore”. Or “He who loves last, loves best.” You cannot arouse my pity, for “all’s fair in love and war”…except coming back from the dead. That is the line and you have crossed it! And if history teaches us anything it is that line crossing is a contagion, breeding a slalom of slippery-slope criss-cross, “vectus dissectus”, an apocalyptic erosion of

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Venetian decency, our pride, our capacity to congratulate ourselves “in sociale” how special we are, and not just here, but beyond, if you’ve watched NOVA’s program on the Multi-verse then I remind you that needless complications in the fabric of time, “tempo complicato” leads to a cacophony of needless hindrance in every conceivable universe. So pack that in your cappuccino and take a whiff!

[Exit Doctor and Silvio] [Doctor belly bumps Beatrice and exits. Silvio crosses to Beatrice, takes a big

whiff and exits.]

Beat. [aside] Dramatic. [to Clar.]. And you, my promised bride-to-be, have you nothing to say?

Clar. You’ve ruined my engagement and I wish you really were dead!

[Exit Clarice in tears]

Pant. What?! You spoiled brat—you’re gonna get it! [Starts to run after her.]

Beat. Stay, Signor Pantalone; let her go. This is not the time for discipline. Trust me, I will win her heart. But now let’s talk business, for it is the reason we are both so invested in this marriage, and determined to knit our families and our fortunes. It is why I am in Venice.

Pant. Everything is ready for inspection and negotiation. We shall share our books, portfolios, agree upon a dowry,— Beat. –Review your will— Pant. [unplussed] Yes, thanks for reminding me. [to Beat.] But to both our better gains start to coordinate our investments, industry, and influence. I’m ready when you are.

Beat. Very good. Let’s meet after I am settled and refreshed. If you will excuse me, I will learn more of “Brighella’s Pensione and Fine Dining”.

Pant. Sounds good. If I can be of service, I am yours to command.

Beat. Well, now that you mention it, can you lend me some money? I didn’t dare travel with any given the recent bread riots.

Pant. We really must have the Doge bring the whip down on those peasants—build

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a wall I say! But, to the point, your request makes sense and I am happy to assist, but my clerk is off collecting rents, the moment he returns I will send the money to your lodgings.

Beat. Very good. Until later.

Pant. See you then.

[Enter Smeraldina]

Smer. [to Pant.]. Sir, Doctor Hume has returned.

Pant. Who?

Smer. Who lives in Genoa. Doctor Hume is here and most inpatient.

Pant. Alright. Please excuse me. [to Smeraldina] Where is he? Smer. Where’s in Mantua, but Hume is in the study. Pant. Well, they need to face some facts!

[Exit Pantalone and Smeraldina]

SCENE 3; I,3

Brig. We meet again Signora Beatrice—?

Beat. Quiet! I beg you, don’t give me away. Good Brighella, my brother, Federigo, is dead. Killed in a duel with my lover Florindo Aretusi. Brig. [aside] The Aretusi?! Another wealthy and connected family. Beat. You see, my brother always saw Florindo Aretusi’s love for me as a hostile takeover of family assets. They argued, it escalated, both held their ground as they held their swords, and in a flash Federigo was dead and Florindo fled from Turin a fugitive. Florindo sometimes spoke of escaping to Venice should the need arise, a place where his wealth could conceal him from the Law. So I put on my brother's clothes, took the business files, and came to Venice. Here I will use the money I get from Pantalone to find Florindo, patch things up with the Law, and then Florindo and I will be married.

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Brig. But your brother Federigo is dead; stabbed by Florindo, your lover. Sure this matter cannot so easily be patched up. Beat. Oh, but Brighella it can. I’m sure my dear Florindo was very scared when angry Federigo approached, he had to draw his sword, and ultimately cry out “stab!” as he slew my brother —which, could have gone better I suppose. But now, armed with the Law, plenty of money, and my Love we can arrange his innocence and finally be together and in love! Help me, dear Brighella, please! You shall be generously rewarded.

Brig. You’ve thought about this and your scheme could work, but I don’t want to get caught on the wrong side of Pantalone. This is his money you’re talking about.

Beat. With my brother dead, am I not both his heir and the sole heir to my family’s fortune: the stocks, the sports teams—all of it?

Brig. True enough. So why all this deceit?

Beat. Brighella, you know I am a woman. And times being what they are, my family fortune would soon be in the hands of my crazy Uncle Jasper and Pantalone would try to take a share as well. I need Florindo’s protection to thwart them all, and I love him so. I want what is mine: Florindo and my fortune. Help me to it.

Brig. You’ve always had a knack for having things your way; I will help you. It is a pleasure doing business with such a wealthy and influential “gentleman.”

Beat. The pleasure is mine. Shall we to your pensione?

Brig. Of course, our executive, super-sized suite awaits. But where is your servant?

Beat. He waits in the street.

Brig. Where did you find that zanni? He’s a whirlwind and quite the character.

Beat. I found him on the journey. Sometimes he’s stupid, sometimes he’s clever, but most importantly he is loyal.

Brig. A rare quality these days. Well, “sir”, I am at your service. Ah, what we do for love and money!

Beat. They make the world go ‘round Brighella. And indeed, I would do far more for my Florindo.

Brig. Of course. Well, we’re off. [aside] Let’s see who turns the biggest profit!

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[Exit Beatrice and Brighella]

SCENE 4; I,4

A street near Brighella's Inn.

Truffaldino solus. Enters from audience.

Truff. I'm tired of waiting; I’m starving. This master of mine is stingy with the food I tell ya. There's nothing to eat. I wish I knew the pensione, motel, or youth hostel we were staying at. Not long ago, when I started serving, those masters, first thing you do in a new town, is get some grub. But this guy—Lord skinny britches—no! He leaves all his luggage, in the gondola at the landing, and heads off to start visiting the rude folk of Venice, and forgets all about his good, loyal, and hungry servant Truffaldino—that’s me. There’s gotta be a snack-shack ‘round here somewhere. But flippy-flap, I haven’t got a nickel. If my master shows up and I’m gone, he’ll fire me, and then I get nothing—no pay, no severance, no reference, zilch!

[Enter Florindo in travelling dress with an old Porter named Decrepilino struggling with a trunk on his shoulder]

Decr. Kind sir, I must rest; the weight's enough to kill me.

Flor. The pensione’s right there. Rest on your own time.

Decr. Oh no. Help. The trunk is slipping.

Flor. [aside] So annoying!

Truff. Here’s a chance. [To Flor.] Sir, may I be of service?

Flor. [aside] An enterprising fellow. [to Truf.] Yes, take this to the lobby for me.

Truff. Yes, sir! Here we go, I’ll show you how it’s done. Heavy…heavy…. [To the Port.] I got this; get goin’ .

Flor. …and this. [Flor hands hand bag to Truff once he has loaded the trunk. Truff. puts his shoulder under the trunk and takes it by himself, knocking Decr. down at the same time] Ha! It’s funny!

Truff. The technique of a trained professional. [Goes into the inn with the trunk.]

19

Flor. [To Decr.] There! Now there’s a lesson for you and be grateful I don’t charge you for it.

Decr. I wasn’t always a porter. Flor: Obviously. Decr: In my younger days I was part of my family’s small but profitable gondola business.

Flor. [disinterested] Really? What happened?

Decr. De-regulation and the Gondola-Gate scandal made making a living impossible: we had to burn our boats to survive the winter of 07.

Flor. Don’t peddle your lazy excuses on me! Now, time for a champagne—I’m parched. [Going towards the inn.]

Decr. Please, sir, wait—

Flor. What?

Decr. My pay? That you owe me? For the portage?

Flor. Pay you? For a job not finished? What you with the union or something? Four hour minimum for a job not finished? Huh? You with the union? Decr. No Venice is a “right to work” Republic. Flor. Excellent! Groin kick! [Flor kicks him in the groin]. Now get to work.

Decr. I need my fee. [Holds out his hand.] Flor: Something for nothing!? Get outa here with that Commie Crap.

Decr. I need my fee. [Still holding out his hand.] Flor. I. Will. Not. Pay. You are old, and deaf, and a terrible worker. Now get lost before I open up a can!

[Decrepelino. crawls off to the side.] Decr. [aside] This looks like a good place to die. [Decr quickly lays down on

20

ground upstage corner of stage.]

Flor. [aside] How thick can you get? Well, let’s check this pesnione out. All this talking has made me horse: time for a champagne.

[Re-enter Truffaldino and Sceptilino with a glass of champagne]

Truff. Sir, all’s well and they await you.

Flor. Decent place?

Truff. Looks very fine: there’s a humungo kitchen that smells tasty. Here’s the waiter.

[Sceptilino enters and hands glass to Florindo and Exits]

Flor. What's your business?

Truff. Ser-vant.

Flor. Are you Venetian?

Truff. Not Venetian, from Bergamo—Bergameese if you please, and at your service.

Flor. Are you presently employed?

Truff. Right now? Well, I’m in-between a couple of things.

Flor. You are without a master?

Truff. No master ‘round here, you can see as well as me. [Aside] It’s true, my master is not ‘round here; I tell no lies.

Flor. Come, be my servant while I lodge in Venice.

Truff. Why not! [Aside] Sometimes a zanni has to dare to double down and go for the big money. [to Flor] Sir, what’s my pay? Dec. [suddenly] Pay? I need my pay!

Flor. [to Dec.] Shut up! [Decr quickly lays down. To Truff.] How much do you want?

Truff. My last master paid me a ducat a day plus room and board—

Flor. A bit much, but you strike me as a hard worker, agreed.

21

Truff. No sir, I’m worth a ducat and a quarter now, plus room and board.

Flor. Oh really? You’re not with the union are you?

Truff. I’m all for myself, and hoping one day that I can be just like you.

Flor. Ha! Laugh out loud! You are a humorous one. And expensive. Well, while I’m in Venice you shall have your ducat and a quarter plus room and board…provided you work hard and are honest. [sipping champagne] As you have seen, I will not pay for a job not finished. It is terrible to let people live well without working for it: something for nothing is wrong.

Truff. So the old zanni hauled the trunk part way and got nothing; I hauled it the rest of the way and got this job, and you got your trunk hauled for free?

Flor. Wonderful isn’t it!

Truff. For you.

Flor. Yes. And what is good for me will trickle down on you—economically.

Truff. Wow, I don’t know what to say.

Flor. You are understandably speechless at your good fortune. Being an ignorant booby I will educate you in the ways of economics, capitalism, and entrepreneurship during our days together. Truff. Can’t wait. Flor. But first, I have a task for you. I am expecting some very important letters. Go to the Post Office near Rialto Bridge, fetch them, and bring them to me. Here’s a bit of money should postage be due. Dec. I need my pay! Flor. [ to Dec.] No you don’t! [Decr quickly lays down. To Truff.] Get a receipt and know that if you cheat me I will--being a person of status--beat you senseless. See if there are letters for Florindo Aretusi; if there are, bring them to me at once. I’ll be here enjoying a champagne and perhaps reflecting on a thought. [he does]

Truff. And perhaps order us a little lunch too?

Flor. Splendid idea! I will soon be ravenous! Be quick about your task and you can enjoy my leftovers. That’s right, what passes through me can trickle down on you.

22

Remember that. [Aside] He’s an idiot but charming in his own peasant way. He’ll earn his keep/ or I’ll kick him to the street/. Did you hear my rhyme? Ha-ha! Well, that was tiring. Time for a refill. Truff: But what about the old zanni? Flor. Oh, don’t concern yourself with him. “It is the way of things.” Truf. Well, for him anyway. But how did you come to be so well off? Flor. Silly zanni; inheritance! Remember this, the surest way to become a

successful capitalist is to begin life with a large pool of inherited capital. But enough: it really is time for a refill.

[Exit Florindo into Pensione]

SCENE 5; I,5

Truff. Two bits more a day—that’s 25 cents—why that’s an extra ducat seventy five a week, or an extra seven ducats a month, an extra 84 ducats a year—how is it I can multiply? Money in the pocket is the surest way to get the girl. Yes, I can see that trickle now; I can smell that gold. I wonder how long I’ll need to work two jobs to be like him? [struggling to pronounce words] To be a cap, a cat, what was it? Oh yeah, a Catipultist; yeah, Catipultism here I come! But where is my first master? Well, he can serve himself, [singing to the tune of the Muffin Man] “Cuz I’m off to see the postal man, the postal man, the postal man, I’m off to see the postal man, near Rialto Bridge.” 1

[As Truffaldino is going, Enter Beatrice with Brighella]

Beat. And where do you think you’re going?

Truff. [jumping to] Right here, sir.

Beat. Indeed you are, but I told you to wait for me at the gondola. As a person of status I should slap you upside the head.

Truff. Sorry. Must have wandered off. Hunger hallucinations.

1Tothemelodyof“offtoseethemuffinman”

23

Beat. Well, hallucinate on your own time. Wander back to the landing, fetch my trunk, and bring it to Brighella’s.

Truff. That pensione?! [aside] Merde!

Beat. Then, go to the post office near Rialto Bridge, see if there is any mail for me: Master Federigo Rasponi. Also check for Beatrice Rasponi. She’s my sister; obviously. So, yes, check for my mail and hers; Beatrice Rasponi.

Truff. [aside]. Oh dear.

Brig. [to Beat.] Why do you expect letters?

Beat. [to Brig] I’ll tell you later. [To Truff.] Now go get my letters—and my sister’s—Be-a-tri-ce Ras-po-ni-- and bring my trunk up to my suite. That’s where I shall be. With a properly iced champagne!

[Exit Beatrice into the Pensione. Sceptilino meets her half way with a champagne]

Truff. You’re an inn keeper?

Brig. Among other things. See that your master super-sizes only the best, and we’ll get along fine. Truf: There’s another gentlemen inside, very demanding and very wealthy: he’ll be wanting a super-size too. [Brig makes to go] But first and quickly friend, couldn’t you use an extra hand? I don’t mean me—I’ve got a job—but this zanni here. [Decr. slowly rises from ground] He works hard, but times being what they are, could use a job. Brig. Hmmmm. You’re not with the union are you? Decr: No, “I have a right to work.” Brig: You’ll be working hard and for extremely low pay? Decr: Beats starving by the ship yards. Brig. I like your attitude. Come along; work here; while we’re busy anyway.

[Exit Brighella with Decrepilino. Decrepilino turns around gives Truf a thumbs up]

24

Truf: Well, there’s a good deed done! What came to me, trickled down on him—ecologically. Wow, with so many out of work, I’ve got two masters and two jobs. Twice the money, twice the food—sounds good to me. Wait, this is terrible, I can’t serve them both. That’s “serving-double” and if they catch me, I’ll catch hell. See, there is a rule of “exclusivity” in the servant industry. I could get beaten and then fired: “No serving-double” it’s worse than being caught at a Nickelback concert! * But wait: so what! If one fires me, I’ll just work for the other. And I need to feel that gold and impress the fair Smeraldina. Yes, I’ve got to try! Here we go: next stop, Ponte Rialto Postale to serve both my masters!

[Enter Silvio from behind the audience and meets Truffaldino]

Sil. [aside]. That’s the servant of Federigo Rasponi. [To Truff.] Zanni!

Truff. Sir?

Sil. Where is your master?

Truff. My master? He's in that pensione right there.

Sil. Hurry to your master and tell him that if he be a man of Honor, he shall hear some choice words I have for him. Tell him I am feisty and seeking satisfaction.

Truff. Uh, sir—

Sil. [angrily]. Now.

Truff. But first, my master—

Sil. Don't provoke me; or, by God, I'll—

Truff. Which master?

Sil. [threatening] Want some? Truf: [aside] Should’ve joined the union. Sil: Don’t try my patience with that Commie Kaka!

Truff. Calm yourself sir, I’ll have my master here in a jiffy pop. [aside] Jiffy pop.

[Exit Truffaldino into the Inn]

Sil. I’m feeling it! A doormat no more! Federigo shall renounce his claim to Clarice and leave Venice, or he will have to give me satisfaction. He may have

25

cheated Death, but he will never cheat me out of my stuff! I’ll wait over there and get in the zone. I ran varsity track in 09 so don’t try this at home. [crosses to the opposite side. Starts stretching out.]

[Enter Truffaldino with Florindo from Inn]

Truff. [points out Sil. to Flor.]. That’s the feisty gentleman, sir.

Flor. Never seen him before; what’s he want with me?

Truff. [shrugs] No clue. I should head to the post office sir, fetch the letters, get ready to eat etc. [Aside] Looks like trouble. [to Florindo] Back in a jiffy butter.

[Exit Truffaldino to street]

Flor. [To Sil.] Sir, you asked for me?

Sil. Me sir? I don’t believe we’ve met.

Flor. But my servant tells me you’re feisty and seeking satisfaction.

Sil. Then he, told you, wrong. I asked to speak with his master.

Flor. And you are: I am his master.

Sil. You’re his master?

Flor. Yes, he’s my servant.

Sil. Then I must say: please pardon me. Your servant looks just like another servant I saw this morning. I humbly beg your pardon.

Flor. No harm, no foul: these things happen.

Sil. Are you a stranger to Venice sir?

Flor. From Turin, sir, and pleased to meet you.

Sil. Interesting. The man I wish to challenge is from Turin.

Flor. Perhaps I know him.

Sil. Do you know a Federigo Rasponi?

Flor. [shocked] Ah, ah, ah…yes, I knew him.

Sil. He lays claim to the Lady who has sworn to be my wife.

26

Flor. My good friend, Federigo Rasponi cannot claim your fiancé: he is dead.

Sil. We thought so too; but this morning he showed up in Venice in one piece, “a breathin’ and a beatin’” as his servant says.

Flor. Sir, you petrify me.

Sil. No kidding! I was petrified too.

Flor. I assure you he is dead.

Sil. I assure you that he lives.

Flor. No, you are wrong.

Sil. Impossible. Signor Pantalone, the young lady's father, investigated and possesses proof that the man is indeed Federigo Rasponi.

Flor. [aside]. So Federigo was not killed in our duel, he was playing possum! Well, he sure can bleed a lot. [macho] I’ll give him that.

Sil. Federigo will either renounce all claims to Clarice or he will die. Or I’ll die trying!

Flor. Federigo here?

Sil. Yeah, he said he was going to lodge at this very pensione. Strange you haven’t seen him.

Flor. Yes, but I was told I was the only guest.

Sil. Well, he must have changed his plans. Forgive me, sir. If you see Federigo, tell him, from me, that he must abandon his marriage scheme for the sake of his health, or he will have to satisfy me. Silvio Hume is my name; your most obedient servant, sir.

Flor. Friend, I am honored. [Aside] And confounded.

Sil. May I beg to know your name, sir?

Flor. [aside]. I must keep my real name secret. [To Sil.] Your servant, sir, my name is Marco-- Sil. Polo--? Flor. Indeed!

27

Sil. Ha! Marco Polo! [Florindo is not amused] I didn’t know there were Polos in Turin. Well, live and learn eh? It’s been a pleasure! Bye-bye!

[Exit Silvio]

SCENE 6; I,6 Flor. [amazed] I was told Federigo died in the street. It seems I heard wrong—Federigo is not dead, he lives. I must return to Turin and comfort sweet Beatrice. No doubt she is distressed; she has been too long without her Florindo. Her agony makes me feel really, really bad! My love, I shall return!

SCENE 7; I,7

[Enter Truffaldino, with Porter Gruffalino, who carries Beatrice's trunk. Truffaldino comes forward a few steps, sees Florindo and fearing to be seen

himself, makes Gruffalino Exit]

Truff. Good job, right this way—oh no! [discovering Florindo] Back, back, good friend, wait for me in the wings.

[Exit Gruffalino]

Flor. [continuing his aside]. My dove! To Turin, I shall be return-in!

Truff. I’ve returned.

Flor. Truffaldino, will you come with me to Turin?

Truff. When?

Flor. Now.

Truff. Before lunch?

Flor. No, first lunch, then Turin.

Truff. Got it. I'll consider your offer. Over lunch.

Flor. Did you go to the Postale as I bid?

Truff. Indeed I did.

Flor. Were there letters there for me?

28

Truff. Indeed there were.

Flor. Where are they?

Truff. They are here! Or rather here, and here. [Takes three letters out of his pocket. Aside] Oh no! I have mixed up the letters for one master with the letters of the other master. Ugghhhh. I cannot read! What am I to do?

Flor. Enough suspense, give me my letters.

Truff. Just a sec sir. [Aside] Problem, problem, come of Truffles—think! [Big inhale as he gathers his thoughts, then to Flor.] You’re not gonna believe what happened to me on the way to the Ponte Rialto Postale. See, I got three letters here but they are not all for you. I ran into an old friend from back-in-the-day, a fellow servant, a fellow Bergamese. Well, we get to talking, and I tell him “I’m headed to Ponte Rialto Postale”. “Ponte Rialto Postale!” says he, “do me a great kindness and see if there’s any mail for my master there.” “Sure” I said, and I think one of these letters is for his master but I’m not sure which.

Flor. Give me the letters; I will sort it out.

Truff. Thank you, sir; sorry for the inconvenience sir. I was just trying to do a good deed, as they say, and help an old friend. Here’s your change.

Flor. [aside]. Amazement! A letter addressed to Beatrice Rasponi? My turtle dove and my love? My dear Beatrice in Venice?

Truff. How’s the sorting going?

Flor. Who is this old friend of yours, this fellow Bergamese?

Truff. Uh, Burt.

Flor. And his master is?

Truff. Oh, I don’t know, sir.

Flor. But if he beseeched you to fetch his master's mail, then he must have told you his master’s name.

Truff. Oh, yeah. [aside] Merde!

Flor. And his name is? Truff: Burt; thought I said that.

29

Flor: No, his master’s name? Truff. I cannot recall.

Flor. What!?

Truff. He wrote it down on a bit of paper.

Flor. And where’s the paper bit?

Truff. At the Ponte Rialto Postale.

Flor. [aside]. Poach my juevos! What could this mean?

Truff. [aside]. Sometimes it just works out.

Flor. Where is this Burt’s abode?

Truff. No clue.

Flor. How were you going to give him the letter?

Truff. He said, he would meet me, in the Piazza San Marco.

Flor. [aside]. This is very confusing.

Truff. [aside]. Here’s hoping I can escape without a beating. [To Flor.] Sir, please give me the letter. I’ll find Burt somehow. After all, Venice is a small city.

Flor. Don’t be ridic.; I will open this letter.

Truff. Oh, sir, don’t do that. Tampering with the mail’s a federal offense.

Flor. Big deal; I shall know the content of this letter. [Opens letter.]

Truff. O-kay. [Aside] He’s opened it! And so manly: impulsive, aggressive and excessive! A genuine triple threat!

Flor. [reads]. “Madam, people are gossiping about you and your recent flight to join Signor Florindo. In particular, your departure in men’s clothes has caused something of a scandal, and the local police plan to arrest you, for as you know, cross-dressing is illegal in Turin. No one knows that you are in Venice, so I sent this letter to a trusted friend in Piacenza, and he has forwarded it to you. I’ll keep you posted on developments here. Your most humble and unworthy wage-slave, Ned Witherton.”

30

Truff. [aside] Reading other people's mail. Breakin’ the law. White male privilege.

Flor. [aside]. Beatrice has left Turin? Dressed as a man? to join me? Oh yeah, that’s love. I must find her! [To Truff.] Good Truffaldino, go, do all you can to quickly find Burt; learn his master, and if his master be man or woman. Find out where they lodge, and then bring Burt to me; I will talk to him and generously reward you both.

Truff. I’ll do my best sir.

Flor. [hands him letter] This is extremely important. I’m counting on you.

Truff. But the letter’s been opened sir?

Flor. Tell him it was an accident or something. Don't bother me with the details.

Truff. And are you off to Turin then?

Flor. Not yet, but go, make haste, find Burt and do as I said! [Aside] My Beatrice is in Venice, and her brother Federigo is in Venice too! [thinking hard] If her brother finds her first, he may try to convince her that she shouldn’t marry a brother-stabber. [suddenly] But he provoked me, provoked me! Oh, Beatrice, it is best I find you first!

[Exit Florindo Street]

SCENE 8; I,8 Truff. Boy-golly, I'm warmed up now and can almost taste that gold! But this opened letter, for my other master, could lead to a beating—don’t want that. I know! I just fold it [Tries various awkward folds.], put it in, and now seal it somehow. What to do? Ah-ha! Grandma use to seal letters with chewed bread. See, we could scrounge paper, but not glue, and she had a phobia about glue, but it didn’t matter cuz we sometimes had bread, and we never wasted bread because she was illiterate. But I've got to try. First, access the family bread fortune—thank you Grammy. [Takes a piece of bread out of his pocket.] I hate to waste you on a letter, but I must serve. [Chews a little bread to seal the letter and accidentally swallows it.] Damn, my tummy sucked it down. Another tiny piece. [Same business.] Argghh! My tummy eats it! Hear reason tummy! One last little bit. [Chews again; would like to swallow the bread, but restrains himself by doing the heimlic by using side of the stage and picks up spit up bread on stage.] Yessssss; now I seal the letter up. [Seals the letter with the bread.] Looks good! Oh my! The porter! I forgot. [Calls off] Porter this way, bring the trunk.

31

SCENE 9; I,9

[Re-enter Gruffalino, the Porter]

Gruf. Where do you want it?

Truff. That pensione over there. [Gruffalino does not move but indicates he need payment] Gruf. And when you gonna pay for it? Truf: My master will pay you. “Those who live to work, get to live.”

[Gruffalino moves to Pensione with trunk as Beatrice Enters from the Pensione]

Beat. This mine?

Truff. You betcha.

Beat. [to Port.] Take it to my room. The waiter can direct you.

Gruf. You owe me six bits.

Beat. You’ll be paid soon enough!

[Gruf exits into the pensione.]

Beat. Have you been to the Postale?

Truff. In-deedy- do, sir.

Beat. Any letters for me?

Truff. One, for your sister.

Beat. Good; give it here?

Truff. There. [Gives letter.]

Beat. This letter’s been opened.

Truff. Opened? Nah! Impossible!

Beat. Yes, opened, and then re-sealed with some kind of gritty paste.

Truff. Now how did that happen?

32

Beat. You don’t know? You silly dolt, who has opened this letter? Tell me!

Truff. I'll tell you, I'll confess the truth, sir: at the Ponte Rialto Postale there was a letter for me; I can't read so good, and by mistake, instead of opening my letter, I opened yours. I made an honest mistake, please forgive me. Don’t beat me.

Beat. Well, if that’s what really happened, then I guess I can let you slide—this once.

Truff. Oh thank you sir

Beat. Do you know what this letter says?

Truff. Not a bit.

Beat. Anyone else seen it?

Truff. [with an air of great indignation]. Oh! How could you sir?

Beat. [aside]. He’s disgusted, which means he’s being honest. [Reads to herself.]

Truff. Sometimes it just works out—oh yeah!

Beat. [aside]. Ned you have served me well! [To Truff.] Listen; I have to take care of some business. Go to my room, open the trunk, here are my keys: unpack my things. When I return, we’ll have lunch. [Aside] Where is Signor Pantalone? I need that money he promised to send.

[Exit Beatrice to Street]

SCENE 10; I,10 Truff. Well that turned out great! Serving two masters ain’t so hard. Calipticalism here I come! You just need to apply yourself; like me! [sings and does a little dance] “Go Truffles, you applied yourself. You work two jobs, cuz you applied yourself.”

[Enter Pantalone]

Pant. You, singing zanni, is your master within?

Truff. No, sir, the pensione is without him.

Pant. And where might he be?

Truff. Sir, I do not know.

33

Pant. Is he coming back to lunch?

Truff. Sure hope so. Said he would. I’m starving.

Pant. Very good. Here, when he returns, give him this purse of monies: one hundred ducats. I cannot stay, I have business. Farewell. Truff: Bye!

[Exit Pantalone]

Truff. [aside] Mon dueu! He didn’t tell me which masters this purse is for. [seeing Flor. in the wings] Oh no!

SCENE 11; I,11

[Enter Florindo]

Flor. Ah, did you find Burt?

Truff. No, sir, I did not find Burt, but a gentleman found me and gave me a purse of monies: one hundred ducats.

Flor. A purse?

Truff. Truly sir. Tell me: were you expecting a purse of monies?

Flor. Yes; earlier I presented a letter of transaction to a local broker.

Truff. Oh, okay, then this purse is for you.

Flor. What did he say when he gave it to you?

Truff. He told me to give it to my master.

Flor. Then of course it’s mine; I’m your master. Why the confusion?

Truff. Just a zanni.

Flor. Now don’t forget about Burt. You’ve got to find him.

Truff. First thing after lunch.

Flor. Excellent idea good zanni. Let’s eat, and if you please me generally and listen closely I may feel the charitable impulse to share some Capitalist wisdom, so that you may improve your situation and beat a bull market! [Goes into the inn.]

34

Truff. Wonderful, I love food! [aside] Ha-ha! Gotta love it when it works out. The purse of monies—all one hundred ducats—has been given to the co-rrect master. Lunch time! [Goes into the inn.]

SCENE 12; I,12

A Room in the House of Pantalone.

Pantalone and Clarice.

Clar. WTF, Daddy, What The F—! Pant. [cutting her off] Talk sense daughter. Actually, don’t talk at all. Listen: for the umpteenth time, the business has been settled; Signor Federigo is to be your husband and that’s that.

Clar. Daddy, I will obey you, but I will never be happy. I just can’t even.

Pant. Now don’t play the martyr with me young lady! We planned this marriage to Signor Federigo years ago, if you had a problem with it, you should’ve spoken up then.

Clar. I was five years old. And completely oblivious.

Pant. As you should be now. Cherish you obliviousness; you’re only young once.

Clar. No. Daddy: I cannot marry him. I just can’t.

Pant. You just said you would.

Clar. Nothing shall compel me to marry Federigo. To my eyes, he is nothing but a creeper.

Pant. It’s very simple: forget Silvio and then Federigo won’t seem so bad.

Clar. Never! Silvio is too firmly pressed into my love.

Pant. “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

Clar. I hate lemonade and love my Silvio!

Pant. Drop Silvio, marry Federigo, I’ll buy you a new dress, and you can start living the life I’ve planned for you! Sweetheart, do this for Daddy’s business!

[Clarice bursts into tears. Drops to the floor, rolling around crying. Enter

35

Smeraldina]

Smer. Sir, Signor Federigo is here and eager to speak with you.

Pant. Show him in; I am at his service.

Clar. [weeping]. Alas! The horror! Horror!

Smer. Madam, come now, look on the bright side. Didn’t you notice how cute Signor Federigo is? And wealthy? If I had the attentions of such a rich firm hottie, I’d thank my lucky stars and so should you.

[Exit Smeraldina]

Pant. Yeah, like she said. Come on now. Put your face together.

Clar. But my heart is breaking! [continues crying and rolling around]

SCENE 13; I,13

[Enter Beatrice]

Beat. Salutations Signor Pantalone.

Pant. Your servant, sir. Did you receive that purse of monies?

Beat. No.

Pant. But I just gave it to your servant.

Beat. I’ve been out. There is no danger. He will give me the purse upon my return. [finally.] Has she been crying?

Pant. [aside to Beat.]. She’s a little upset, but she’ll warm up and be an A-1 number one wife for you. I guarantee it!

Beat. [to Pant.]. And your guarantee is good enough for me! But Signor Pantalone, give us a moment alone that I may dry her tears…

Pant. Good idea, sir. [To Clar.] I’ll give you two some time to talk. [Softly to Clar.] Now no hanky-panky; this isn’t Flanders*. [“this isn’t Beaverton.” “this isn’t Canada”-- feel free to substitute a location of your choice].

[Exit Pantalone]

36

SCENE 14; I,14 Beat. Signora Clarice—

Clar. Stay away, and don’t you dare speak to me you heart-breaker you.

Beat. You should take more care with the man destined to be your husband. [helping her up]

Clar. Daddy might force me to marry you, and you might take this body, but you shall never have my heart.

Beat. You despise me now, but you’ll love me later.

Clar. I shall hate your guts forever. Weirdo!

Beat. If you truly knew me, you’d change your tune.

Clar. Fat chance.

Beat. And I have the means to comfort you.

Clar. You’re fooling yourself: only Silvio can comfort me.

Beat. You’re right. I cannot comfort you the same way Silvio might, but I can please you. [Beatrice puts her arm around Clarice, who recoils. Beat laughs at her reaction]

Clar. Oh creeper! Creeper!

Beat. Signora Clarice, I must tell you a secret.

Clar. Best not; I’m a blabber.

Beat. Your severity makes it difficult to cheer you up.

Clar. You could never cheer me up.

Beat. You are mistaken and this is why: I have pledged my heart to another.

Clar. I’m listening, but don’t you dare deceive me. I am not your toy, mister.

Beat. Madam, I am sincere. If you promise to keep my secret, I shall put your heart, body, and soul at rest.

Clar. Cross my heart.

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Beat. Pinky? [offers a pinky] Clar. Pinky. [they lock pinky fingers]

Beat. Okay, here it is: I am not Federigo Rasponi but his sister Beatrice.

Clar. Shut the front door! You’re a woman?

Beat. Bingo. Or Binga in this case.

Clar. [impressed] Wow. But what about your brother Federigo?

Beat. He was killed, in a duel, by my lover, with his sword—he’s so manly—and it is for him that I am in Venice and dressed like this. Now I remind you, you promised not to tell anyone. You pinkied.

Clar. But can’t I just tell Silvio?

Beat. No! Absolutely not!

Clar. Wow, you’re quite forceful for a girl. But I will honor the pinky, and again promise to say nothing.

Beat. Excellent! And now I hope we can be friends?

Clar. Friends.

Beat. Embrace me!

Clar. Well, I don’t know, Daddy said…

Beat. I am a woman: do you need to see my credentials?

Clar. No, no. I’m sorry, it’s all quite extraordinary—like some graphic novel or play.

Beat. Friends! [they embrace].

Clar. Ah, I doubt you no longer. SCENE 15; I,15

[Enter Pantalone]

Pant. Ah-ha! Yes! Milton Friedman be praised; I congratulate you. [To Clar.] You

38

see daughter, he’s not so bad after all.

Beat. All’s well that ends well eh?

Pant. You work fast Signor Federigo. Beat. Being a man, I’m as fast with the dames as I am with the IPOs! Hoo-yuh. Pant. I’m impressed. Let’s have the wedding ASAP.

Beat.[aside] OMG! Clar.[aside] ASAP? [to Pant.] Dear father, not too hasty. I need time to prepare.

Pant. Oh come now, I saw you two cuddling just now, you can’t keep your hands off each other, and I don’t want any scandal understand? You’ll be married tomorrow, then we’ll carnivalle like its 1699.

Beat. Signor Pantalone, before we can marry there are certain financial arrangements, off-shore tax havens, wills, etcetera that must be seen to.

Pant. Rest easy, it shall be put in order and to both our likings I assure you.

Clar. Daddy, can we like, slow this down, like, a lot—

Pant. Daughter, I have to go, right now, to say a little something to Silvio and his father, the Doctor. Oh, it’s gonna feel real good!

Clar. Please don’t say anything you might regret later.

Pant. What later? I’ve put up with those two long enough. It’s been an amazing day!

Clar. But, b-b-b-but—

Pant. But me no buts: my prayers have been answered and I’m off to have a little fun! [Going.]

Beat. [to Pant.]. Listen, sir—

Pant. Congratulations on your engagement. [Going.]

Clar. [to Beat.] Do something!

Pant. Until tonight. Oh happy day!

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[Exit Pantalone]

Beat. That did not go well. Clar. This is worse than ever!!! [they exit]

ACT II

SCENE 1; II,1

A campo near Pantalone's house.

Silvio and the Doctor

Sil. I need to do this myself. [Silvio makes to cross]

Doc. Hold on a second. [Doctor belly bumps Silvio back, stopping him]

Sil. My passion defies restraint.

Doc. [pointing off stage] There’s Signor Pantalone’s palazzo.

Sil. Yes, and he will either give me Clarice, or I shall demand satisfaction. He’s really hurt my feelings.

Doc. I know son, but don’t let your anger get the best of you. Reason must rule the day: rationalus delibratatus.

Sil. I have reasons a’plenty to give him a taste of my honor, my Venetian pluck!

Doc. Not so hasty son. Allow me to engage him in conversatione, to reason with him and make him see both his moral duty, and his legal obligation. Go get a gelato and leave this to me.

Sil. But Dad, I—

Doc. But son, obey me.

Sil. Oh, okay. I shall await you at the gelatotorium… where Clarice and I had our first date [cries]. Damn these tears! I must be satisfied! But first a spumoni.

[Exit Silvio skipping]

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Doc. Pantalone must put this to right! Pantalone! Pantalone! Just yell if you can hear me.

[Enter Pantalone]

Pant. Who calls?

Doc. Who lives in Genoa! Hume calls.

Pant. Ah, Doctor Hume. I was just coming to find you.

Doc. Well good! I trust you were coming to honor your contract, beg my forgiveness, and give Signora Clarice to my son Silvio

Pant. [with glee] No, not quite, not quite.

Doc. No, I understand, very awkward for you, business associates coming back from the dead, “mortus errectus”, so to speak. And so for the sake of our combined families and the love of the young, I shall, this once, forgive you the very forgiveness I most recently persisted in soliciting.

Pant. Stuff those big words doc: Clarice will marry Signor Federigo.

Doc. Clearly you remain stunned by Federigo’s sudden resuscitation, and you do not consider the great insult you heap upon mee familius.

Pant. Previous contract, previous contract—

Doc. “Homus tardus” Pantalone! “Homus tardus!!!” Pant: Tardis? Doc: No that’s with Who-- Pant. In Genoa? Doc. You’re catching on! But mind your Latin: “Homus tardus”, the man is late.

Pant. There’s a contract—

Doc. Contract shmon-tract. Federigo has not the heart of Clarice; her heart is with my boy Silvio. We’re not it the 1680s anymore, the girl’s feelings count for something! And regardless, my aforementioned

41

“homus tardus” reflects my well-considered, and considerably learn-ed sentiments.

Pant. You know as well as I—

Doc. The girl, Pantalone, the girl: “puellae considarae.”

Pant. Any more Latin to foist my way or are you done?

Doc. Finis

Pant. Finis?

Doc. Indeed.

Pant. You’re done?

Doc. Definitely.

Pant. My dear Doctor, your intellectual nonsense has—

Doc. Dowry! As regards the dowry, I know how much money means to you, and though I cannot claim to be as wealthy as Signor Federigo, we can work it out: think of the children!

Pant. You done.

Doc. Definitely; I told you so: “dictus finictus.”

Pant. Okay, it brings me great joy to say: Clarice will marry Federigo! [laughs] There is a contract, and the financial timing is superb. My daughter quickly warms to Federigo; soon she’ll be gooey ga-ga in his hands, and this impending merger—I mean marriage—is guaranteed. It’s bad for you; it’s bad Silvio; but that’s the way the biscotti bounces.

Doc. You’re daughter’s “warming” and “goo”, while scandalous, is not so surprising being the offspring of an opportunistic, appetite-driven, solo-orgy-of-a-greed-monger like yourself! If you do not honor the contract you made this very morning with my family, I will have no choice but to use my bully pulpit as Doctor, at the University, to denounce and shame you. Pant. [intrigued] Really? Pray tell, pray tell…

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Doc. I’ll begin by writing an article for publication in our local press— Pant. Oh! The “Pantalone News Press”? Doc. Well…yes…but if that should fail, I’ll hold numerous public teach-ins at the University where I’ll expose your despicable behavior— Pant. Oh I’d like to attend. Will you hold these “teach-ins” at “Pantalone’s School of Predatory Lending” or at “Pantalone’s Center of Realpolotik”? Doc. Well…yes…you are rather tight with the Board of Governors, well, I’ll appeal to the Doge himself. As our elected leader and Chief Justice, he will hold you to your most recent contract: “finders keepers”, and though Clarice’s scandalous “goo” is not so good, this “warming” but pales next to the rolling boil she heats for Silvio, and I am confident the Doge will say so. Pant. Really? Well, let’s find out. [calling offstage] Doge! Doger! You out there? SCENE 2; II,2

[Enter Gruffalino with a letter] Gruf. The Doge cannot come today but says he’ll definitely come by whenever he damn well pleases and that it’ll be great. Doc. What the hell!? [Exit Gruffalino] Pant. Gotta love “leadership:” Clarice will marry Federigo! [laughs] Doc. I am speechless, and where there’s a speechless Doctor, look for “locust appocolyptus”, a fleet of cheese covered unicorns dancing on a canal of baker’s chocolate!

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[Exit Doctor]

Pant. Tootle-loo Doctor. Go sulk it over. Try “Speakers’ Corner” *; it’s a great place to be alone. [aside] Federigo Rasponi’s fortune is worth a thousand Humes! And with this marriage I’ll leverage that fortune and have my way in every corner of commerce from Vienna to Vegas. [beat] Wait. I’m excited. I’m thrilled. I can barely contain my joy! People die but corporations live forever!!! SCENE 3; II,3

[Enter Silvio with ice cream cone]

Sil. [aside]. Now, to get some satisfaction. [tosses ice cream cone into the wings]

Pant. [seeing Sil., aside]. Oh my.

Sil. [rudely]. Your servant, sir.

Pant. [happy] Whatever. [Aside, joyful] He’s mad.

Sil. Sir, my father has told me a thing, is it true?

Pant. If your father said it, it must be true: unicorns, cheese, etcetera…

Sil. Then this marriage between Signora Clarice and Signor Federigo shall happen?

Pant. Yep, the contract’s settled and they even warm to one another.

Sil. “Warm!?” Oh but you’re a mean fellow.

Pant. [mocking] “Oh, stop, stop you’re hurting my feelings.”

Sil. I’ll hurt more than your feelings. I have a sword. I should poke you with it till you hurt really bad. That might satisfy me.

Pant. How dare you threaten me near my own house!

Sil. Well, take a stroll down the street then!

Pant. Alright, I’ve had enough of you: I’m standing my ground. Wait here; I’m off to get my pistol. Props! Props!

Sil. Oh no you don’t you devious codger. You’re gonna satisfy me

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right here right now. [he grabs Pant. Struggle]

Pant. How double-dare you: respect you elders!

Sil. [shaking Pant] You’re a nasty old scrooge!

Pant. [aside] Old??? [back to Silvio while being shook] Help, help. Socialism! Communism! Rectangular Prism!

SCENE 4, II,4

[Enter Beatrice with a drawn sword]

Beat. What’s this?

Pant. A witness!

Sil. [to Beat.]. At last! Satisfy me!

Beat. That phrase has multiple meanings! Pant. [aside] Yes it does.

Sil. [to Beat.]. Have at you!!

Pant. [frightened]. Careful! He could wing-nut and two-bit ya like that!

Beat. I laugh at danger! Ha-ha, ha, ha!!! [they start to duel]

Pant. [chanting—rallies the audience] Fight, fight, fight, fight etc. Kick-his-ass, etc…

Beat. Hoo-yuh!!!

[Pantalone continues rallying the crowd. Beatrice and Silvio fight. Beatrice starts to get the upper hand, once it’s clear Beatrice will win,

Silvio starts faking a dislocated knee.

Sil. My knee! I heard a pop—did you hear that pop?

[Beatrice disarms Silvio].

Sil. [epic] Sprinter’s knee! It has never healed! [Silvio throws himself

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to the floor] Beat. [victorious, taunting] How ya like me now?!

[Enter Clarice]

Clar. [to Beat.]. Stop, stop! Please! I beg you!

Beat. Dear, and ever warming Clarice: as you request, I spare Silvio’s life. Remember your oath.

[Exit Beatrice and Pantalone]

Pant. [aside to Beat.] You kicked his ass…

SCENE 5, II,5 Clar. Dear Silvio, how’s your knee? Sil. [macho] Popped it back in. Clar. Are you hurt?

Sil. “Dear Silvio?!” Cheater! You two-timer you!

Clar. No, Silvio, I am true: I love you, adore you, and remain faithful to you and only you.

Sil. Faithful to me? Poppycock. I hear how you “warm” to another?

Clar. No, no, I never warmed. There was no warming. How could I warm to another, when the heat of my heart boils my blood for you and only you?

Sil. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, and that warming smoke—your oath—has got into my eyes! [he cries]

Clar. You’re confused: my oath is not to marry him, it is to…

Sil. What? What?

Clar. I cannot say.

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Sil. Say!

Clar. I am sworn to silence.

Sil. Guilty!

Clar. Innocent!

Sil. Innocent girls don’t have secrets.

Clar. But if I break my promise…?.

Sil. You love him! Ah! Two Timer!

Clar. If I didn’t love you, would I have been so quick to beg your life! [gets down on knees]

Sil. Then I loathe my life, if I must owe it to such a secretive cheat-monger. [gets down on knees]

Clar. But I love you with all my heart.

Sil. And I despise you with all my soul.

Clar. I will die, if you do not love me.

Sil. I’d rather see you dead than unfaithful. That’s what honor is.

Clar. Then I shall satisfy you. [Picks up his sword]

Sil. Yeah right.

Clar. Are you so cruel to your Clarice?

Sil. Well… “I’m rubber and you’re glue: and any cruelty that bounces off me came from you.”

Clar. I can’t believe you said that to me. You desire my death.

Sil. [in conflict with himself] What I desire I know not.

Clar. But I do. [points sword at her breast. Prepares for suicide as…]

SCENE 6, II,6

[Enter Smeraldina with groceries]

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Smer. Stop, stop! WTF! What are you doing?! Woooooowww!!! [Takes the sword away from Clar.] And you, [To Sil.] what’s wrong with you? Is this what passes for a man? To watch a sweet lady disembowel herself?! You are too good for him, madam. [consoling] He can go to hell. You come with me. There's plenty of fish for your pond, and we’ll stock it together. Believe you me, you’ll have one less, one less problem without him.* or Come on! Let’s find some bad boys and make ‘em good for a weekend.

Clar. [weeping]. You ungrateful weirdo! I was about to stab myself to death and you couldn’t care less: you do not love me! Be happy Silvio, because soon I shall die: of grief. And then you’ll be off your head with joy until one day, you realize, I am innocent. Then you’re gonna feel really bad for acting like a creepy weirdo!

[Exit Clarice]

SCENE 7; II,7 Smer. [to Clar. As she exits] Go on, I’m just gonna have a little chat here with Silvio. [to Silvio] So you’re the sad remains of Venetian chivalry? She’s about to kill herself and you’re just gawking there like you’re watching some play.

Sil. Nonsense! She wasn’t going to kill herself. She is a faker.

Smer. I believed her.

Sil. Because you are dumb. But I observed that the point was nowhere near her heart. Just like a woman, jump straight to melodramatic hysteria! [aside to member of aud.] He knows what I’m talkin’ about.

Smer. Oh, so when women care its hysteria, and when men care it’s what? Smart, strong and smellin’ like Pipin McBlarney?* [feel free to insert name of widely regarded good looking celebrity] You think your paranoia’s her fault? Wake up! You think women are melodramatic and unfaithful, but men and their needy egos have been screwing the world over for centuries! Look around, there is nothing more stupid and dangerous than a man tryin’ to prove himself. But people gossip about the women: women get the blame, the shame—

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[Silvio tries to interrupt “Because they deserve it”*]—Shut it! –and men like you do whatever you want. You know why? Dumb luck, because you were born a man and men make the rules. If women made the rules, things would be way better—more humane, graceful, enjoyable. We’d build a true democracy where people had equal say, and where the plain dumb luck of being born into a certain family, with a certain set of tingly parts, doesn’t give you the right to ride rough-shod over the health and happiness of everyday people! And I wish I had a husband and I don’t know why! [She bursts into tears.]

[Exit Smeraldina]

Sil. [aside] See, Melodrama. [getting epic] Clarice is a faithless traitress! But I shall have my revenge. Federigo shall die, and two-timing Clarice shall see her lover flailing about, drowning in a lagoon of his own squirty blood-stuff! [picks up sword, slash, epic] Come at me bro!!!

[Exit Silvio]

SCENE 8; II,8

A Room in the Inn

Truffaldino solus.

Truff. Wouldn’t you know it! I’ve got two masters, rooms for two masters, and no masters. If both Masters show up at the same time—what am I gonna do? Running here, rushing there, a mess, a discovery, and then: all the beatings… A sound! Just one master: what a relief. If you’ve ever had two people who think they’re your boss, then you know it’s a happy day when just one shows up: [mocking] “Truffaldino this, Truffaldino that, Cater to my whims!!”

[Enter Florindo]

Flor. Truffledino. Truf. [extremely polite] Lunch is nearly ready sir. Flor. Good. Did you find Burt?

Truff. Didn't we say, sir, that I’d find him after lunch?

49

Flor. I must see him now.

Truff. Then you should’ve had your lunch a little sooner eh?

Flor. [aside]. I must know for certain if Beatrice is here.

Truff. Your lunch will soon await you, and your scraps will soon await me.

Flor. I’m not hungry. I must go to Ponte Rialto Postale; I will venture forth alone to learn what I can.

Truff. Sir, we’ve gotta eat: in Venice they say, an empty stomach brings on the pox.

Flor. I have important business. Leave the lunch in case I quickly return. Fetch yourself a morsel if you must.

Truff. [thrilled] Very good, sir; as you say sir; you're the master here, sir.

Flor. All this money is heavy; here, put this in my trunk. Here is the key.

[Gives Truffaldino the purse and his keys]

Truff. Will do, sir; and I’ll be back with the key in a jiffy soup!

Flor. No, no, no give it to me later. I’m in haste. If I do not return for lunch, meet me in the Piazza; I will not rest till we have found Burt.

[Exit Florindo]

SCENE 9; II,9 Truff. Well, boss’s orders: I must eat. You saw; I tell no lies. I’ll leave the lunch as he commands, and now to fetch a morsel for myself. I’ll just lock away all this money: [mocking] “Oh Truffaldino, this money is so heavy. I suffer Truffaldino, I suffer—“

[Enter Beatrice]

Beat. Truffaldino!

Truff. Bonky-bingo!

Beat. Did Signor Pantalone give you a bag of monies? [showing five fingers] Five score ducats?

50

Truff. Yes indeed he did sir: up top. [puts hand up for high five]

Beat. [ignoring the high five] Then why have you not given it to me?

Truff. Was it intended for you sir?

Beat. What did he say when he gave you the bag?

Truff. He said: give this bag to your master.

Beat. And who is your master?

Truff. You sir.

Beat. Then who gets the bag?

Truff. You sir.

Beat. And where is it?

Truff. Here sir. [Gives Beatrice the purse.]

Beat. Finally.

Truff. [aside]. I made a “bag” mistake; but this fixes it. My other master has so much money he won’t even notice. Right?

Beat. Is the innkeeper here?

Truff. I think so.

Beat. Tell him I shall have a guest for lunch.

Truff. May I take you order, sir? How many dishes?

Beat. Oh, Signor Pantalone is a modest, wholesome man. Tell him to prepare only five dishes; something very tasty and we need it snappy.

Truff. Will do, sir!

Beat. Good. I’m off to fetch Pantalone. See that all is as it should be. [Going.]

Truff. You shall be served!

Beat. But first! Take this paper and put it in my trunk. Take care; it is a bill of exchange for four thousand ducats.

Truff. You can count on me sir. To the trunk!—

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Beat. And, see that everything is ready, and as it should be, and snappy. Turf: [in unison with Beat.] –snappy. Beat. Good. And with the champagne properly iced. [Aside] Poor old Pantalone—after all he’s been through today, the least I can do is take him to lunch.

[Exit Beatrice]

SCENE 10; II,10

Truff. Now's my chance to prove myself. It’s gotta be snappy and “as it should be.” I'll just trunk this paper and then—no, that can wait, my master is in haste. Hola! Hey Brighella!

[Enter Brighella from Kitchen.]

Brig. What can I do for you “signor Truffaldino?”

Truff. My master’s off to fetch a guest for lunch; we need it tasty and hasty.

Brig. My kitchen is ready to serve numerous, super-sized, delicacies worthy of our clientele.

Truff. Sounds good: what do you suggest?

Brig. For two persons, I suggest two courses, four dishes each; will that do?

Truff. What delicacies can you serve?

Brig. To start I shall give you soup, pate, a fried, and a fricandeau.

Truff. Fricandeau?

Brig. It’s French, and very tasty.

Truff. Good. And then?

Brig. Then a roast, cheese, fruit, and a pudding.

Truff. A "put-ing"?

Brig. Pudding, an English dish and very good.

Truff. Great, get her done. But wait, how should we arrange the table?

Brig. Don’t worry. Our new waiter, [calling to] Decrepilino, will see to it.

52

[Enter Decrepelino from Kitchen]

Truff. No, no, my good friend. It must be laid properly, “as it should be.” Oh, and I mustn’t forget, champagne properly iced. [to Decr.] Off you go. Glad it’s working out.

[Exit Decrepelino to Kitchen] Brig. Well, I suggest the soup here, salad there, the fried there, and right here the fricandeau. [Makes an imaginary arrangement.]

Truff. Frickin’ don’t: It wants a central image, something to intrigue the audience; compel their attention.

Brig. We can put the gravy in the middle.

Truff. No, no, my friend: hashtag #party foul. The soup is always in the middle.

Brig. Then the roast here and the gravy there.

Truff. Lordy, lordy, that is terrible. You can cook, but you cannot serve. Check it out. [Kneels down on one knee and points to the floor.] Pretend this is the table. Like this: in the middle, soup. [He tears off a piece of the bill of exchange and puts it on the floor to represent a dish.] Here: salad. Now, [Same business.] here we put a fried [same business], and here the French dish the “freak n’ chew”?— Brig. –Fricandeau— Truf. –and then the gravy, the roasted, and the rest, and there we are—tada!

Brig. It’ll do; but you should put the gravy near the meat.

Truff. Very well, here. SCENE 11; II,11

[Enter Beatrice and Pantalone from the Hall]

Beat. Why are you on your knees?

Truff. [stands up. Indicating paper arrangement]. Serving you.

Beat. What is that paper?

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Truff. [aside]. The paper he gave me!

Beat. That is my bill of exchange!

Truff. Sorry, sir; I’ll just stick it back together.

Beat. Idiot! [ear pull to Truf] Is that how you take care of my stuff? I should beat you proper. Signor Pantalone, look at this. Have you ever seen such stupidity?

Pant. Not since Nixon took us off the Gold Standard or Not sinse the Doge’s last tweet* [feel free to include political stuff here].

Beat. [To Truff.]. Get out before I lose it!

Truff. But the “should be”—placed, laid, snappy ice, the fic-on-you—

Beat. Get out!

[Exit Truffaldino to Kitchen]

Brig. He’s a strange one.

Beat. Bergamese.

Brig. Your lunch will be ready shortly.

Beat. Tell Truffaldino to wait on us.

Brig. Yes sir. [Exit Brig to Kitchen]

Beat. Signor Pantalone, you honor me with your company.

Pant. My dear sir, I am overwhelmed by your hospitality. A simple lunch is just what I need after all that drama.

Beat. I’m glad I was there.

[Brighella enters with Sceptilino and Decrepelino from the Kitchen and carry glasses, champagne, bread, etc., etc., into Beatrice’s Dining Room. Brighella

serves champagne to Pantalone and Beatrice.]

Pant. [referring to Brig.] Brighella is useful; he works! [off of audience] Look at these people, it’s like a lazy-plague came to town. This is good champagne. Beat. Yes, but Pantalone, what happened? Sure, today Venice is a great place for a romantic getaway, but the Venice of old was the fiercest republic in

54

Europe. Pant. Yes. We had the Silk Road and our empire reached the steps of Constantinople—[aside] that’s modern day Istanbul for you youngsters. [back to Beat.] We were a nation of Caesars. We worked and we reaped the fruits of that work—but a few of us more than most eh? Beat. Then as always, but what happened? Pant. Oh, you know: foreign competition, rotting infrastructure, political gridlock, etc. [acknowledge audience} We all know the story. Beat. It is sad to see the once mighty lion in decline. Pant. Venice will rise again. Our Doge has a few Wackatarian schemes up his sleeve to purge this lazy-plague and heighten a keen desperation to survive amongst the peasant class. Beat. Such as? Pant. Well, we’ve already deregulated the gondola industry right? Now anyone can be a gondolier, and “Your Dreams are just a second job away” eh? All you need is a gondola and a little desperation—I mean motivation. Beat. And we love selling those gondolas don’t we? Pant. And financing them too. I like to think of it as selling people a little slice of the “New” Venetian Dream.

Beat. Yes. Too bad for them that there are now too many gondolas: wages fall, families go hungry— Pant. They should look in the mirror and blame themselves. Wackatarian extremism? That’s on the voters, but their foolishness is our gain eh? I’m making more than ever and so are you. Johnny Q Zanni suffers but a New Venetian Dream is born—in us! Beat. And only we can dream it! But enough social realism, cheers!

55

[Enter Sceptilino and Decrepelino from Beatrice’s Dining Room and Exit to the Kitchen. Decrepelino starts towards Beatrice using champagne bottle as a club].

Pant. Cheers! [sees Decrepelino] Ahhh! [Sceptilino drags Decrepelino off into kitchen] And we’ll soon have another cause to raise a glass, eh, your marriage? And after that, many more, as we marshal our combined fortune to bend new markets to my will…I mean, our will. (back up intermission)

[Enter Truffaldino from Kitchen carrying the soup-tureen.]

Truff. [to Beat.]. Lunch will soon be a’ready and a’waitin’ in that room, sir.

Pant. He’s an odd one. [Exit Beat’s Dining Room.]

Beat. [to Truff.]. But loyal. [Exit to Beat’s Dining Room.]

Truff. They’ve got plenty of food, and keep it all to themselves! I wonder if this soup’s any good; I'll sneak a taste. [Takes a spoon out of his pocket and tastes the soup.] “Be prepared.” Whoa! Not bad. [Exit to Beat’s Dining Room.]

[Enter Sceptilino from Kitchen with a dish]

Scep. The dishes are ready! Order up!

Truff. [Re-entering from Beat’s Room]. Here-here. What have you got?

Scep. Pate. And more to come. [Exit Scep. to Kitchen]

Truff. Rabbit or goat? [Tastes.] Duck and very tasty. [Goes towards Beat.'s room] SCENE 12; II,12

[Enter Florindo from Hallway]

Flor. Where are you going?

Truff. [aside.] Mon duer!

Flor. Where you off to with that food?

Truff. To the table, sir.

Flor. For who?

Truff. For you.

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Flor. Why do you serve lunch before I have returned?

Truff. I saw you from the window. [aside] It could happen.

Flor. Pate before soup???

Truff. An old Venetian custom, sir, the real McCoy: save the soup for desert.

Flor. I want my soup first! Take that away!

Truff. Yes, sir, ASAP, sir. [false exit to the kitchen.]

Flor. Hurry up—and no more anachronism while I’m stage. Truff. [formal] Aye, my dread lord. Flor. That’s better. [aside] I’m tired; after lunch I must nap. Shall I ever see my Beatrice again? Pain—Pain! It really hurts!

[Florindo Exit into his Dining Room—as soon as he is in Truffaldino quickly takes the dish and Exit to Beatrice Room. Enter Sceptilino from Kitchen with another

dish. Florindo calls from his room.]

Flor. [in anguish] Truffaldino! Where’s my soup? Truffaldino!!!

Truff. [Enter from Beat.'s room]. On its way, sir. [To Sceptilino.] Quick, lay the table in that room, the other gentleman’s there; bring the soup—make haste.

Scep. Okay! [Exit Scep. to Kitchen.]

Truff. What’s this? This must be the "freakin’goo" [Tastes it.] Mon duer that's tasty. Oh lordy! [Exit with it to Beat. Room]

[Sceptilino and Decrepelino enter from Kitchen and carry glasses, wine, bread, etc. Exit into Florindo's Room].

Truff. [Enter from Beat’s Room, to Waiters in Flor’s Room]. Quick, quick; fast, fast. [Aside] Handling two masters brings twice the pay and twice glory. I’ll be the stuff of legend, and Smeraldina will be so, so impressed.

[Enter Scep and Decrep from Florindo's Room and cross to Kitchen]

Scep. You wait on that table; we'll wait on this one. [Exit Scep to Kitchen]

Truff. No way! I’ll look after both tables, now move your bones, earn your pay! Let’s go!

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[Enter Sceptilino from Kitchen with Florindo's soup]

Truff. Here, I'll take that. Go and get the stuff for the other room. [Takes soup from Sceptilino. Exit with it to Flor.'s Room.]

Scep. [aside] He’s a strange one. Wants to run himself silly and wait on everyone? He can have it. I’ve got better things to do than fight over crumbs in this warehouse of delicacy. I need my strength for my liberation… my second job—the nightshift at Scraps! [sings the jingle] “When you want to grab a bite/ but your wallet’s kinda light/ tonight’s the night that you just might/try the gently-used food at Scraps./ Scraps!/ Food for the working class!”

[Enter Truffaldino from Florindo's Room]

Truff. Catchy song.

Beat. [calling from her room]. Truffaldino!

Scep. [to Truff.]. Master calls.

Truff. Coming, sir. [Exit to Beat.'s room.]

[Enter Decrepelino with roast for Florindo; Sceptilino takes it. Decrepelino Exits to Kitchen. Enter Truffaldino with the dirty plates from Beatrice's room]

Truff. Here, take this [hands dishes off to Scep]. Scep. Be sure to scrape these left overs into the Scraps bucket [handing dishes to Decrepelino]

Dec. [aside] I wasn’t always a waiter. Flor. [calls]. Truffaldino!

Truff. [wishes to take the roast meat from Scep.]. Give me that.

Scep. You got it. [hands dish over. Exit Truf to Flor’s Room]

[Exit Scep. to Kitchen]

Truff. Oh, no! Which master gets this? I can’t remember. What to do? Come on think-think—ah-ha! Split it and bring some to both! [Takes plates and divides the risotto.] That's half and that’s—well a bit more, I’ll just put the extra—in my

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stomach. Golly, fairness tastes good. Now that’s even—wait, now there’s a bit more, a bit more for Truffles. Just a bit more. Wow. I can taste it in my feet. Off to master!

[Truffaldino puts one plate on the floor and Exit with other to Beat Room. Sceptilino enters from Kitchen with Pudding.]

Scep. Truffaldino!

Truff. [Enter from Beat.'s room]. Coming!

Scep. Pudding!

Truff. Coming! [Takes the other dish of risotto and cross towards Flor.'s room.]

Scep. That's wrong, the roast belongs over there.

Truff. I know that! But master gives some to this gentleman. [Exit into Flor.'s room.]

Scep. [aside] Giving more to the wealthy and only [sung to tune of Scraps jingle][Decrepelino enters when hears the jingle, dances along, and then begins to pull down his pants to take a shit] “Scraps/Scraps!/Scraps for the working class.” What a world, what a world...

Truff. [Entering from Flor’s Room]. And what's this thing?

Scep. English Pudding. [Exit to Kitchen]

Truff. Of course. Looks good; tasty—bouncy-bouncy. Flor.[calling] Truffaldino! Beat.[calling] Truffaldino! Truff. Just a little bite… [Brings a fork out of his pocket and tries the pudding.] Oh it’s good, yes, tasty. [Shoves his face in and eats. Comes up for air, laughs, face back down. Motorboats it.] Fantastic! [Goes on eating.]

Beat. [calling]. Truffaldino!

Truff. [with mouth full]. Coming, sir.

Flor. [calling]. Truffaldino!

Truff. [with mouth full]. On my way, sir. [To himself] Oh this is great! just a bit

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more—[Goes on eating]

[Enter Beatrice from her room, sees Truffaldino eating, kicks him and says]

Beat. Bad! Bad zanni! Come, wait on us. [Exit Beat to her Room.]

Truff. Yes master!

[Truffaldino puts the pudding on the floor and Exit into Beatrice's room. Enter Florindo from his room.]

Flor. [calling]. Truffaldino! WTF! [aside] Damn; broke my own rule.

[Enter Truffaldino from Beatrice's Room]

Truff. Here, sir. Checking on the next dish sir.

Flor. Well hurry! I need my nap! [aside] Beatrice! Capitalism! [Exit to FlorRoom]

Truff. Yes master. [Calling into Kitchen] Waiter, anymore to eat? [Aside] I'll stash you for later. [Hands it to audience member in front row.]

[Enter Sceptilino from Kitchen with dish with fruit and cheese. Decrepelino with roast. During this section through the end of the act Trufaldino becomes

progressively more bossy and demanding]

Scep. [calling into the kitchen] –and dump those leftovers in the Scrap’s barrel! [to Truff] Here's the roast.

Truff. [aside] Taking the roast to master two! Hike! [Takes it to Flor. Room]

[Enter Decrepelino from Kitchen with coffee service. Hands to Sceptilino]

Scep. Order up! An odd and springy fellow.

Truff. [Enter from Beat room; frazzled]. Okay! Good! They’re all done! Finally!

Scep. Finally.

Truff. And now you will serve me; master’s orders!

Scep. You sure are a people person. [calling of to kitchen] Hey, scoop those leftovers out of the Scraps barrel!

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[Exit Sceptilino to Kitchen.]

Truff. Yes! I have done it! Both masters served, and satisfied. And my secret scheme, is still a secret. Oh Smeraldina, I can feel myself getting ahead-- Catophicalism here I come! Now my jiggly friend, where were we? [gets pudding back from audience member] I have served two masters, and now I will eat for four! Oh yeah, bring it on! Y’all can try Scraps! “…tonight’s the night that you just might…Food for the working class!” Intermission!!! [Music up and lights fade as Truffaldino eats the pudding, Sceptilino and Decrepelino enter from Kitchen with various other food. Fade to black out. Intermission.]

INTERMISSION

[Music is lively. As we prepare to go into Part 2 then Brig. takes the stage for a ribbon cutting ceremony in front of “Brighella’s Pensione and Fine Dining.” Several other characters observe the action. Brighella addresses the audience as if they are at a speech giving event.] INTRO 2 Brig. Welcome back and welcome to the opening of our richly anticipated “Scraps Too!” Where you can enjoy the gently used food fresh from “Brighella’s Pensione and Fine Dining” on the wrong side of town at a fraction of the price: a place where what’s rubbed off the wealthy, can be eaten by you. And now to say a couple of words about Scraps Too and his visionary plan for the Republic of Venice, I give you, the leader the mighty lion thinks it needs, a man with a proven head for business,: he’s tough, he’s big, and ladies he’ll be single any day now. Ladies and Gentlemen put your hands together for the Doge! [all begin to applaud. Enter Grufalino with a letter] Gruf. The Doge cannot come to today, but says he never said he’d come and that it’ll be great. Brig. Well….I’m sure if the Doge could be here today, he’d tell us to keep up the fine work of building the New Venetian Dream and rolling back all those rules

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about re-serving and re-selling food—a tasty benefit we can all enjoy not just at Scraps but now Scraps Too too! So, raise your glasses of properly iced champagne and join me in singing along: “If you want to grab a bite/ and your wallet’s kinda light/ tonight’s the night that you just might/try the gently-used food at Scraps./ Scraps!/ Food for the working class!” Scep. As catchy as ever! Gruf. And tasty! Brig. And as we sip know that your dregs and mine will be re-served tonight at Scraps Too! What passes through us trickles down on them. Trickling waters raise all boats—as long as you have a boat! Decr. We burned our boats in the winter of— [Scep and others silence Decr.] Brig. Ha-ha! And cheers! [Brighella flourishes. The ribbon falls to the ground and is pulled off stage from the wings, as the crowd disperses Smeraldina enters from the house.]

SCENE 14, II,14

A street in front of Brighella's Pensione’.

Enter Smeraldina from House humming the jingle.

Smer. It’s a catchy tune, but a girl can’t live on gently-used deep-fried garnish. Sure we’re poor, but how about something to eat that doesn’t leave you out back poopin’ your pants! And speaking of stinky stuff, right here, in my hand, is some stinky stuff—a letter from my mistress. And what kind of girl does she take me for? Sending me with a letter to Brighella’s Pensione? Folks like to gossip about a girl [indicates herself] entering a place where the well-to-do men abide. Hey there sister, people ever gossip about you? Me too! You know what I’m sayin’? I’ll tell you what, serving a love-struck mistress is a crazy business. Here’s what I don’t get: if she loves Signor Silvio so much that she’s ready to impale herself, then why send a letter to a different gentlemen, hmm? I tell ya, so much passion and so little sense. Well, the Pesnione is there, but I’m staying out here. Reputation, reputation: I’ll just holler: hey hey! Is there anybody in there?

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Sceptilino comes out of the inn.

Scep. Now!— [seeing her. Lusty.] Woman—so, what can I do for you?

Smer. I have something for Signor Federigo Rasponi, is he here?

Scep. Yes, he, is.

Smer. [dignified. Showing letter.] I’ve got this thing for him.

Scep. Well, just bring that pretty little thing inside.

Smer. I am a respectable girl, not some “hit-it-n-quit-it”. I am the waiting-maid of his betrothed, though in time I will better myself.

Scep. Come on in: I’ll “better” you right now.

Smer. Oh no, I shall remain outside. Reputation is all if a girl’s looking for upward mobility.

Scep. Look no further, I’m feeling some upward mobility right here! [laughs] Smer. You might be feeling it, but I’m not seeing it; if you know what I mean. Scep. You’re cruel, cruel, but I’ll be working over at Scraps later if you change your mind. [sings the jingle] “If you wallet’s kinda lite/but you want to try a slice/…” Smer. I will tie your balls in a bow! [Sceptilino stops singing.] Scep. Signor Federigo can’t come right now: he’s still eating with Signor Pantalone.

Smer. [aside] Pantalone—my master!? Oh no, he’ll think I’m up to something. [to the Sceptilino] Well, I am not coming in. I am respectable.

Scep. Whatever you say. I’ll send his servant.

Smer. The skinny guy?

Scep. Jumpy workaholic—eats like a horse?

Smer. Yes, send him--“like a horse”--wonderful idea.

Scep. Gotcha. [aside] She wants him. [Goes in.]

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Smer. [aside] What will I say? I’m not just fooling myself, am I? He seemed interested, right? Confidence. And be yourself. And smile. Yes, that’s the secret. . SCENE 15, II,15

[Enter Truffaldino with a bottle in his hand, a glass and a napkin]

Truff. Who’s there?

Smer. Me. Sorry to bother you.

Truff. No worries. Truth is I’m full, and your shimmering self is just the thing to help my food go down.

Smer. [aside]. Suave! I don’t know why!

Truff. I’ll just set this down, and you can be my napkin.

Smer. [aside]. “Napkin!" so debonair! [To Truff.] Now bring that dirty little face over here. Get respectable—oh yes. [wiping face on blouse lazzi] Now that you’re tidy: my mistress sends this letter to Signor Federigo Rasponi; but I can’t go in—my reputation and all—so I thought I might trouble you, seeing as you’re his man.

Truff. My pleasure; but first, I’ve got to tell ya, I have a message for you.

Smer. Really?

Truff. Yeah, from a great guy: ever hear of Truffaldino Battocchio?

Smer. May-be, but I’m not sure. [Aside] Is he talkin’ about himself?

Truff. Oh he's great: attractive, hard worker, wants to become a chloraphormist—did I say attractive?

Smer. Oh is he now. Hmmm, I don't think I know him.

Truff. Yes you do, and what's more, he's in love with you.

Smer. Oh! You’re teasing me. [aside] I hope he’s not teasing me.

Truff. But he’s shy, and just needs some encouragement, that—you know—maybe you like him too?

Smer. Well, I’d have to see him. If he stokes my stove I might return his affections.

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Truff. Would ya like to meet him?

Smer. Can I?

Truff. Just a sec. [Goes into the inn.]

Smer. [aside] I hope its him, I hope its him, I really hope it’s him!

[Truffaldino comes out of the inn, makes low bows to Smeraldina, passes close to her, sighs, and goes back into the inn. Smeraldina reacts like a screaming teenage

fan at a pop concert]

Smer. [aside] It was him! So cute, and clever too. I am, dear me, all aglow.

Truff. [re-entering]. Did you see him?

Smer. Who?

Truff. The guy who loves you.

Smer. I saw no one but you.

Truff. [sighs]. Well….?

Smer. Are you the guy who’s in love with me?

Truff. Yep. [Sighs.]

Smer. Why all this play-acting?

Truff. I’m kinda shy.

Smer. [aside]. What a dream boat!

Truff. Well, and what do you say?

Smer. I say—

Truff. Yes?

Smer. Oh—I’m kinda shy too!

Truff. So if we shacked up, we’d be shy together?

Smer. You have a way with words, and I like your look.

Truff. You a virgin?

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Smer. [coldly] Oh, sudden. Truf. Oh, um, I thought—well, you know— Smer. Is that important to you?

Truff. Not really. Smer. It’s not important to me either. Truff. So, if my “friend” wanted to marry you, should he ask your father?

Smer. [sweetly] My parents are dead. Your “friend” would have to ask my master?

Truff. And what would your boss say?

Smer. That I’d better not miss any work.

Truff. And what would you say?

Smer. I would say: I will be honored to be your wife. [Smeraldina and Truffles celebrate with great expression]

Truff. Yes! Happiness! Aaarrrggghhh; more than I can speak! First things first, but [Smeraldina and Truffles celebrate a second time with great expression] oh—wowza, yeah—okay so first. Yes first. First, let me have the letter and when I bring back the answer, we’ll have some more chat.

Smer. Sounds good. Here's the letter.

Truff. Do you know what it says?

Smer. No—but I wish I did!

Truff. I hope its good news. Master groin kicks when its bad news. Maybe I shouldn’t take it? [hands it back to her]

Smer. We could open it, keep that groin safe—but how would we seal the letter back up?

Truff. Leave that to me. I have many hidden talents: no one will ever know.

Smer. Let’s do it.

Truff. Can you read?

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Smer. A bit—but you can read right?

Truff. You bet; a bit.

Smer. I want to hear.

Truff. We must open it cleanly. [Tears off a piece.]

Smer. Ah! what have you done?

Truff. Relax, I can fix it: here it is.

Smer. Quick, read it.

Truff. You read it.

Smer. [looking at the letter]. Handwriting’s messy.

Truff. [same business]. Yeah sure is. Is that a M?

Smer. No! that's an R!

Truff. Right! [looking at her] The two look kinda same-ish—

Smer. [returning his gaze] The curves can be disorienting….

Truff. [they lean in, about to kiss] Disorient me baby… [kissing lazzi—lots of tongue] SCENE 16, II,16

[Beatrice and Pantalone Enter from Inn]

Pant. [to Smer.]. What is this?

Smer. [frightened]. Nothing, sir; just looking for you.

Pant. [to Smer.]. What do you want?

Smer. Mistress Clarice wants you, sir.

Beat. [to Truff.]. What is this letter?

Truff. [frightened]. Nothing, just a bit of letter—

Beat. Give it here.

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Truff. [gives paper trembling]. Yes, sir.

Beat. What? This letter is for me! How dare you open my mail; that’s a federal offense!

Truff. Wasn’t me—

Beat. Look, Pantalone, here is a letter from Clarice, in which she tells me of Silvio's insane jealousy—and this shyster has the impudence to open it!

Pant. [to Smer.]. And you were his accomplice, weren’t you?

Smer. Wasn’t me.

Beat. Who opened this letter?

Truff. Not me.

Smer. Not me.

Pant. Well, who brought it?

Smer. Truffaldino was bringing it to his master—

Truff. And Smeraldina was giving it to Truffaldino.

Smer. [cold aside to Truff]. You didn’t.

Pant. “Giving it to Truffaldino?!” You hussy—respect the mail. Don’t give me that look!—I’ll beat you backside and smack that look right off your face.

Smer. Smack your own backside, and beat off on your own face!

Pant. [coming near her]. How dare you say that to me!

Smer. Can’t catch me you old geezer! [Smer. triple steps off swinging arms in air]

[Exit Smeraldina]

Pant. You saucy wench! I’ll wing-nut ya till you see the Bread Elf. Knees, hips, don’t fail me now! [Exit Pantalone.]

SCENE 17, II,17

Beat. [looking at the letter, aside]. Poor Clarice! She is distraught over Silvio's jealousy. I begin to feel inklings of pity and remorse. I should probably reveal all and set things to right as best I can.

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Truff. [aside; tries to steal away quietly]. Time for me… to just…sneak off….

Beat. Where are you going?

Truff. Nowhere. [Stops.]

Beat. Why did you open this letter? It’s a federal offense.

Truff. Smeraldina made me do it.

Beat. Blaming the woman eh? You did it, you know it, and it’s the second letter of mine you have opened to-day. Come here.

Truff. [aside] Not looking good. [approaching timidly]. Mercy's sir, mercy—

Beat. Come here. I’m docking your pay, and now I’m going to beat the motley off you. [takes slap stick from Truffaldino] That’s how we roll in the 18th century. Truff. But I’m not wearing motley. Beat. How dare you question my alternative facts!

Truff. Mercy; for the love of God—

[Beatrice takes the slapstick which Truffaldino has at his flank and beats him—like a girl. Florindo enters from the balcony.]

Flor. What? Someone’s beating my servant! And it isn’t me! No one messes with my stuff!

Truff. Stop, stop! Please sir, for pity!

Beat. Take that, and that—you must respect the postal system—and that! [Beatrice bursts into tears. Throws stick down on the ground, and Exit.]

Truff. [after Beat. has gone--aside]. Ouch! That’s no way to treat me!—a zanni, a Bergamese, a working man! Docked my pay too? I work hard and now all I have is a sore hiney. Strange beating. Usually I’m the one who’s crying. Workers of the world unite and demand a beating-free work place! SCENE 18, II,18

[Florindo enters from house to stage]

Flor. What was that? –“Workers? Unite? Beating-free?”—You’re not spouting

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Commie-Crap are you? The gold never trickles on the spouters of Commie-Crap.

Truff. [seeing Flor.]. Oh! Not at all. I was just saying that when one master beats another master’s servant, well, they’re treating that master rudely, and that is wrong. This is an insult to you Master. [Looking towards direction of Beat.'s Exit.]

Flor. Yes: No one beats you but me. Who was that?

Truff. Uhhh, never seen him before in my life.

Flor. Why did he beat you?

Truff. Because I was slow… to get…out of his way?

Flor. And you let yourself be beaten for that!? You did nothing? Did you even consider how your victimization would embarrass me? You moron! [Picks up the stick] Since you like being beaten so much—come get some! [Thrashes him] I’ll- wail- on- you- my-self! [Beating him as he says it] Ass-wack! Hiney-wack! Double wack pack! Sequel! And now the coup de grass: wackatanasia!!! Truf. Wackata-what???? [Flor. Delivers multiple strikes—a cacophony of spanking violence] Flor. I’m docking your pay too—no trickle for you! [Flor. exit into inn. Truff lays there motionless] Truff. [aside; lifts head] I’ve been hit by the Struggle Bus. Cue Dream Sequence. And, blackout. [goes unconscious. Light change to dream-like state.] [Enter Pietra Pannini and her sidekick Crouton. The following should be similar to the speech about Tinkerbell in the well-known Peter Pan musical] Pietra Pannini: [to audience] Hi gang, it’s me, Pietra Pannini, the Bread Elf. Bringer of panne to all the good proletariats. This is the Dream Sequence. And this is my trusty sidekick, Crouton. Crou. Damn straight: Dream Sequence! Pietra. [patting Crouton on the head] Yes, dear, dear Crouton. Friends, our hero is down—beaten by the botochio of an oppressor nation. He lays there, and both his masters have docked his pay—he needs our help!

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Crou. Oh yeah. [to audience] Time to get on the stick. Pietra. Truth indeed dear, dear Crouton. Crou. [accusing member of audience] What you lookin’ at hick meister fuh? Pietra. Friends, I must warn you, it is not wise to taunt Crouton. Crou. Damn straight, I’ll make your gums bleed. Pietra. She will. And she’ll tear the roof of your mouth too. Crou. You goddamn right! Tougher than Tasty Crunch! Pietra. Indeed. But now dear, dear Crouton, we must work our magic. [to audience] If you believe that hard work should pay off, if you believe in the tenacity of the human spirit, if you believe that even a zanni deserves a shot at happiness, I need you all to clap now—really, really loud. Louder! Crou. Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about! [gets audience to join in a chant of a kind: oi, oi, oi etc. As Crouton does this…] [Pietra goes to Truffaldino and begin to conjure. As the magic reaches critical strength, lights change and sound cue of backwards dialogue from Pietra as Crouton intensifies with various “yeahs, damn straight, oi, etc.” Pietra with Crouton’s help, bring Truffaldino back to life—the birth of Frankenstein’s monster—but finally he’s alive! He displays some signature moves as Pietra and Crouton float and strut off stage respectively.]

Truff. Wow! I’m seein’ Elves! Fully enriched panne—bread—the dignity of work! [sudden change] Two beatings in one day? No money, no love, sore ass, and for what? [Pietra Pannini and Crouton cross the stage pursued by Decrepilino.] Truff. Dreams can be a weird sandwich! That makes me hungry!

[Truf. exit into the inn

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ACT 2, SCENE 18-- PART TWO: II,18-2

[As Truffaldino exits Pietra, Crouton,and Decrepelino dance together in a comic dream ballet. With Decrepleino in pursuit of Pietra’s bread wand, an elegant

dance gains momentum and his age gradually disappears, becoming more contemporary as the three bust moves and celebrate the simple goodness of

bread.]

Piet. Friends, is it not strange, that a good old man, after a lifetime of hard work can only find bread, comfort, and health care in a dream sequence?

End of Act II

ACT III

SCENE 1, III,1

A Room in Brighella's Pensione.

Truffaldino solus.

Truff. Well, a nap, a snack, and things don’t seem so bad—and I’m conscious so that’s progress. I need to get my wages back. Okay, servants have no rights in Venice, except the right to work, but not get paid as you have seen, unless you’re in the union of course, which I am not. There is only one option: I must work even harder, redeem myself to both masters, and get my wages back. Doopey-doo! And they haven’t discovered my serving-double scheme, so it could still work out: I can better my subjugation and one day, become the biggest Capitualist ever. And I need to find that special someone to share all my Capitualtism with. Oh Smeraldina, I sure need to get back into your good graces. But first: wages back. Master Number One is out and about, Master Number Two is taking a nap—with a sore right arm. Perfect time to air their clothes, rich people love that,— bread and butter here I come! Here are the keys, and here’s just the place. Time to get the trunks and get to it. I’ll need some help though. [Calls] Hey!!!

[Enter Sceptilino and Decrepelino]

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Scep. Yes?

Truff. Can you give me a hand with a couple of trunks?

Scep. [to Decrepelino.]. Assist heir Master Servant.

Truff. [sizing up Decrepelino’s infirmity.]. Well, let’s see what’s possible. Hey, you know—this might sound a little strange—but I had a dream about you.

Decr. I’m in a committed monogamous relationship. Truff. Oh, sure—well, congratulations.

[Truffaldino and Decrepelino exit to Beatrice’s Room]

Scep. [aside] That jumpy workaholic’s up to something: you can’t eat praise, and the women folk want men captivated by them, not their jobs. He’s up to something.

[Enter Truffaldino and Decrepelino from Beatrice’s Room]

Truff. Gentle gentle! And…there. [they put the trunk in the middle of the room]. Alright, good, let’s get the other one. This way. And quiet. Master’s asleep and prone to rage.

[Exit Truffaldino and Decrepelino into Florindo’s Room]

Scep. [aside] He’s serving-double! Serving two masters, at the same time, on a regular basis! Serving-double; wow, what an insult to his masters. That would be big trouble for him; a world of hurt. Here’s hoping it’s amusing.

[Enter Truffaldino and Decrepelino from Florindo’s Room with the other trunk]

Truff. And let’s put the other down just, right, over, here. [They put it down a little way off from the other.] Great! Thanks so much. And off you go. Feel free to list me as a reference [shakes his hand].

Scep. [to Decr.]. Break’s over, back to work—the kitchen. [Exit Decr to Kitchen.] [To Truff.] Need anything?

Truff. Nah, I got this.

Scep. We’ll see. [creepy chuckle as he Exits to Kitchen. Truff chuckles too; not really sure what’s happening.]

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Truff. Now to task—goin’ for the gold! [Takes a key out of his pocket.] Which key is it? [Opens one trunk.] It worked! And now the other trunk. [Takes out second key and opens second trunk.] Jinga! Let's air it out. [He flings all the clothes out of both trunks quickly. In each trunk there must be a black suit, books and papers, and anything else ad lib.] Take pleasure in your work—that’s what they say. Let’s check the pockets; could be some grub—taffy, granola bar, the odd peppermint—wouldn’t want that stuck to their clothes. [Searches the pockets of Beat's suit and finds a portrait.] Oh, a picture? Here’s a handsome slab of man! Looks familiar, kinda like my other master…but no, he never wears his wig that way—this guy’s so 80s—1680s! [laughs]

SCENE 2, III,2

[Florindo calls from his Room]

Flor. Truffaldino!

Truff. He’s up! If he sees the stuff from the other trunk, he'll know my scheme—quick, quick—pick it up, lock it up, deny everything. [Begins putting clothes in.]

Flor. [calling]. Truffaldino!

Truff. Coming, sir! [aside] This here, this here, that there, that there, and this is—my goodness how refined—well, it goes there I guess. And this coat? Here. God help me. This book? I guess it goes here.

Flor. [calling]. Get in here! [warning] Do I need to open up another can???

Truff. Just a sec! [aside] Quick, quick- quick-quick; there! [Stuffs the things into the trunks anyhow and locks them.]

[Enter Florindo from his Room in a Dressing Gown and sleeping cap.]

Flor. What are you doing?

Truff. Fixin’ to give your clothes an airing, just like you ordered sir.

Flor. Who’s trunk is that?

Truff. It’s yours. Flor. No, that one.

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Truf. Oh, that one: probably someone else’s.

Flor. I know it’s someone else’s! I swear, talking to you is like—oh, never mind. Give me my black coat.

Truff. Aye-aye, my dread lord. [Opens Flor.'s trunk and gives him the black suit. Flor. takes off his dressing-gown with Truff.'s help and puts on the black coat; then puts his hand into the pockets and finds the portrait.]

Flor. [much surprised]. What’s this?

Truff. [aside]. Oh Lordy, it’s the wrong coat in the right trunk. Arrgh!

Flor. [aside]. Split my chestnuts! This handsome fellow is me. This is the portrait I gave to Beatrice. [To Truff.] How did my portrait get in my pocket?

Truff. [aside]. H-e-l-p.

Flor. Come on, how did this lovely and attractive portrait of myself end up in my coat pocket?

Truff. [aside] Got it! [to Flor] Sir, please forgive me, that portrait belongs to me and I put it in your trunk because I was afraid I might lose it.

Flor. How’d you get it?

Truff. My old master willied it to me.

Flor. Willied it to you?

Truff. Yes, sir; once, I had a master who died, and he willied me some stuff, and I sold it, for some food, but I didn’t sell this.

Flor. Wowwy-kazowwy! How long ago did this master die?

Truff. Last week.

Flor. What was your master's name?

Truff. I’m not sure; never used the same name twice. Said the government was tracking him or something; very secretive.

Flor. Secretive? How long did you serve him?

Truff. Oh, just, you know, ten days or so.

Flor. [aside]. Peel my plums and ferment them on the roof! I fear this was Beatrice—O dear, if this proves true I’m going to very, very, very-very upset!

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Truff. [aside]. He’s getting agitated!

Flor. [despairingly]. Tell me, was your master young?

Truff. Yes, sir, young.

Flor. With a beard?

Truff. No beard—not even a soul patch.

Flor. [aside, with a sigh]. It was she. [to Truff.] Where was your master from? You know that don’t you? Was “he” from Turin?

Truff. Yes, good guess: Turin for certain sir.

Flor. [aside]. Every word he speaks is like a sharp metal thingy poking me in the chest! [To Truff.] Tell me again; this young gentleman from Turin, he is dead?

Truff. Definitely.

Flor. Of what did he die?

Truff. He had an accident, and from that, he died.

Flor. Where is he buried?

Truff. [To Flor.] He wasn't.

Flor. What!

Truff. No, sir, a different servant from the same place, had him boxed up, and sent home.

Flor. And was this different servant, by any chance, the same servant who this very morning, had you fetch those letters from the Ponte Rialto Postale?

Truff. Yes…sure was; it was Burt.

Flor. Then all hope is lost; Beatrice is dead. Beatrice! Oh! Pain! Pain! Grief! Despair! How could this happen to me? I, who had the good sense to be born an aristocrat? I cannot endure the agony! Good-bye lousy earth!

[Exit Florindo into his Room]

Truff. This master’s quite the feeler—so dramatic, and for someone he doesn’t even know. Well, I’d better put this other trunk away before they breed more trouble. Merde! Here comes master number one and the geezer.

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SCENE 3, III,3

[Enter Beatrice and Pantalone]

Beat. I assure you Pantalone, the gondola loans are certified, sanctioned, and have been bundled into derivatives. Yes, IPO ready. We’ll make a fortune!

Pant. Another fortune more like it eh? One is never enough. But to the matter—

Beat. Save your breath; I shall show you the books. Truffaldino!

Truff. Here, sir.

Beat. You have the key to my trunk?

Truff. Yes, sir.

Beat. Why is my trunk here?

Truff. To air your clothes, sir.

Beat. Open the trunk and give me—who’s trunk is that?

Truff. Someone else’s.

Beat. Popular room. [aloud] Bring me the book.

Truff. Yes, sir. [aside] Here goes everything! [Opens trunk and looks for the book.]

Pant. “Derivatives, certified, sanctioned, and IPO ready”—all this lifts my spirits; but “interest, dividends, and profits” lift them even more.

Beat. You shall be satisfied.

Truff. This book, sir? [holding out a book to Beat.].

Beat. Yes. [Takes the book without looking carefully and opens it.] No, this isn’t it—wait, whose is this?

Truff. [aside]. Oh dear.

Beat. [aside]. Squash my butternuts! Here are two letters I wrote to Florindo. Alas! This book is his! I tremble, I sweat, I flutter—I know not where I am…

Pant. You okay Signor Federigo?

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Beat. It’s nothing; fine. [aside to Truff.] Truffaldino] How did this get in my trunk?

Truff. I don’t know, you saw, I just—

Beat. Shut it and tell the truth.

Truff. Sir, forgive me: that book, belongs to me, and I put it in your trunk, because, I was afraid I might lose it.

Beat. But you gave it to me instead of mine without even noticing.

Truff. [aside]. Smart master. [To Beat.] This is a brand new book for me sir, so I didn’t recognize it right away.

Beat. How did you get this book?

Truff. I was a servant, to a gentleman in Venice, and as he died, he said: “Sorry I beat you so much, but here, have a book.”

Beat. How long ago?

Truff. Ten days or so.

Beat. Impossible, that’s when I met you in Verona?

Truff. I had just left Venice because my master was dead: “Pain! Grief! Lousy earth!” etc.

Beat. [aside]. Alas! [To Truff.] Your master—was his name—Florindo?

Truff. Yes, sir; Florindo.

Beat. And are you sure he was dead?

Truff. Yep: dead.

Beat. How did he die? where is he buried?

Truff. He fell, into a canal, was hit, by a couple gondolas, racing for a fare, and he drowned; never seen again.

Beat. Oh! Pain! It hurts! My beloved Florindo; my love, my life—dead. My best laid plans have born sterile fruit! I skip my brother’s funeral, leave town as a man, hide from the police, court Clarice, spout forth finance, and learn to pee standing up: all for Florindo—and Florindo is dead! Unhappy Beatrice! Grief overwhelms me! Life is too much! For me! Florindo: my beloved, I will kill myself and follow you in death! See you on the other side!

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[Exit Beatrice into her Room]

Pant. [who has listened to her speech with astonishment]. Truffaldino.

Truff. Yes?

Pant. He’s a girl.

Truff. So he says, yes.

Pant. Extraordinary.

Truff. Who'd have thunk it?

Pant. I'm dazed.

Truff. I’m baffled.

Pant. I was certain this was going to work out. I could smell the gold. Truff. I know what you mean. Well, my Grammy once said: “certainty is like new snow in July.” I have no idea what that means: never seen snow in July. Pant. Well, so much for this merger with Federigo—I mean marriage. I may as well tell Clarice the engagement’s off and that she can go ahead and marry Silvio. This pisses me off—bigly!

[Exit Pantalone to Hallway]

Truff. Looks like I’m not the servant of two masters, but the servant of a master and a cross-dressing mistress.

[Exit Truffaldino to Hallway]

SCENE 4; III,4

A Street.

[Enter Doctor Hume]

Doc. [aside]. Pantalone must be stopped. His Wackatarian ruthlessness is driving Venice to ruin, but worse, he’s dashed my boy’s heart, and that’s the last straw.

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The Board of Governors has refused my request for an anti-Pantalone teach-in at the university. They defaced my rubrics, vandalized my student learning outcomes, and ridiculed my favorite syllogism. “Offendus fumus! Fumus!!!” But as Athena would say, “Vengeance shall be mine! And it is a dish best served with olives!”

[Enter Pantalone]

Pant. [cheerfully]. Hello! Greetings and salutations my dear Doctor Hume.

Doc. What? Pant. Good try: What lives in Padua. I have good news for you. Do you know—

Doc. That the marriage has already been performed? Even consummated? I couldn’t care this much. How do you like your olives?

Pant. No—well, that was confusing, but no, no, let me finish—

Doc. Then finish, speak, blab on. Astound us with your elocution. “Magna verba, magna verba!”

Pant. My daughter Clairce shall marry your son Silvio whenever you please.

Doc. [beat] Oh. Well la-dee-da. I am soooo thankful to you. But pray, do not inconvenatto yourself. My son is not prepared to stomach a dish once warmed over not to mention burned tough, sir. Wed her to the Turinese gentleman and with my compliments, but know I’ll be avenged.

Pant. If you knew the Turinese gentleman like I do, you’d change your mind.

Doc. He could be Ishmail Barbarossa for all I care—they have been seen together! “Mallus Reputatus!” Reputatus!!!

Pant. But Federigo is a—

Doc. I will not hear one single additional word.

Pant. But you should.

Doc. [covers his ears] Blah blah blah etc.

Pant. What?

Doc. What lives in Padua! Ha-ha! And that’s where you should go. With olives on top!

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Pant. Still confusing… Doc. Really? Athena? A gift to the people? You don’t know the tale? Pant. Oh, I know it, I just find the reference confusing. Doc. Regardless. You’re a promise breaker and an old heart breaker! You must be stopped!

[Exit Doctor]

Pant. Damn you! Don’t storm off the stage like that! I have been stopped! [aside] You saw, I couldn’t get a word in. “Old?” Oh great, here comes the son, Silvio! SCENE 5; III,5

[Enter Silvio with ice cream cone]

Sil. [aside]. There’s Pantalone. [tosses ice cream cone into the wings]

Pant. Signor Silvio, I have good news for you. Pray let me speak.

Sil. What have you to say?

Pant. Sir, you must know that the marriage of my daughter to Signor Federigo has come to nothing.

Sil. Really? Don’t toy with me old man.

Pant. [aside] “Old man?” Really? [to Silvio] It’s true, and if you’re still interested, my daughter is ready to give you her hand.

Sil. Oh heavens! This good news cheers my heart! But hell! How can I root a girl into my heart, when she, for nearly two hours, has had another man rooted in hers?

Pant. To be brief: Federigo Rasponi is a woman.

Sil. A woman?

Pant. Yes a woman; his sister Beatrice. Sil. A woman?

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Pant. Yes, I said that.

Sil. A woman dressed as a man?

Pant. Yes, dressed as a man.

Sil. Oh. Wow, the old switcheroo! How did that happen?

Pant. Come back to my palazzo and I’ll tell both you and Clarice the story: my daughter doesn’t know yet.

Sil. I will join you. And please sir, forgive my earlier outburst that my passion spurred me forth to blurt.

Pant. Worry not good lad; I know what disappointment is. Yes, I know what disappointment is. Now, let’s head home and give Clarice the good news, Son.

Sil. [aside]. I am happy!!! [Pant takes to the audience.]

[Exit Silvio and Pantalone]

SCENE 6; III,6

A Room in Brighella's Inn.

[Enter Beatrice and Florindo, Brighella and Sceptilino—Decrepelino too from their rooms simultaneously; Beatrice and Florindo hold swords or daggers and

are on the point of committing suicide. Brighella is restraining Beatrice and Sceptilino is restraining Florindo. They all come forward in such a way that

Beatrice and Florindo are unaware of each other's presence. Decrepelino trying to help in his incompetent, senile way, returning the weapons to the Lovers that

Brighella and Sceptilino are taking from them.]

Beat. [aside] All ninja-sly I have taken this knife from the kitchen. Soon I shall be with my Florindo. Brig. [entering] Now where’d I leave that knife??? [seizing Beat.'s hand]. Stop, stop! I can’t let you do this!

Beat. [trying to break loose]. For the love of God man, let me die!

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Brig. Not before you pay your bill! Beat. I paid in advance! Brig. But you need to super-size to the suicide package!

Scep. [holding Flor.]. Say no to cray-cray, say no to cray-cray!

Flor. [breaks away from Scep.] Go to hell and let me end it! Scep. Not without a tip! Flor. Okay: “buy low, sell high!” Sceptilino. Not that: fifty percent! Flor. That’s too much: I’ll give you ten! [puts hand in pocket, suddenly waves hand]. Fake out! Beat. Okay, I’ll super-size, now let me end it! Brig. Soon! [motions to Decrepelino to bring the paperwork] Just initial here and here. Do you want Dante or Petrarch recited as you pass on? Beat. No Shakespeare? Brig. What’s a Shakespeare?

Beat. [breaking away from Brig.]. I have suffered enough! You shall not prevent me! Flor. [breaking away from Scep.] Good-bye really bad, terrible, nasty world!

[Both come forward, determined to kill themselves, they see each other, recognize each other and stand dazed.]

Beat. Florindo!

Flor. Beatrice!

Beat. You’re alive!

Flor. You too!

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[They drop their weapons and embrace]

Brig. [jokingly to the Scep]. That’s our cue, but take the weapons back to Props. [to Beat.] The super-size is not refundable.

[Exit Brighella, Sceptilino with weapons and Decrepelino]

SCENE 7; III,7 Flor. What brought you to such anguish?

Beat. False news of your death.

Flor. Who told you I was dead?

Beat. My servant.

Flor. Odd: my servant told me you were dead.

Beat. This book made me believe his story.

Flor. That book was in my trunk. How did you get it? Ah, now I know. The same way this attractive portrait ended up in my coat pocket. [shows it to her]

Beat. Our servants!

Flor. Working scum! Where are they?

Beat. I don’t know.

Flor. Let’s find those scheming peasants and get to the bottom of this. [Calling] Hey-hey! [ to Beat.] This is what happens when you over tip. [calling] Anybody in there?

Enter Brighella.

Brig. You called sir?

Flor. Yes, where are our servants?

Brig. I’m not sure sir. Please initial here for the tip.

Flor. Alright [Flor. signs]. Find them at once and send them in.

Brig. I only know one of them but I’ll ask the staff. [Exit Brig.]

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Flor. You’re lodged at this pensione?

Beat. I arrived this morning.

Flor. Me too, and yet we never saw each other.

Beat. Fate has tortured us.

Flor. Tell me: your brother Federigo—is he really dead?

Beat. Yes my darling. You stabbed him and he died in the street.

Flor. [softly, intimate] That’s good news. I heard he was alive and here in Venice.

Beat. That was me my sweet. I travelled with his name and in these clothes to follow—

Flor. To follow me—I know, my dearest; I read all in the letter sent to you by your loyal servant Ned Witherton.

Beat. Good Ned. How did you see that letter?

Flor. My servant gave it to me by mistake, and seeing your name, I had to open it.

Beat. That’s a federal offense, but I understand. We are awash in scandal my love. Flor. I know. Beat. You opened my mail and slew my brother— Flor. And you are a cross-dresser. Beat. But at least we have each other. [they kiss]

Flor. And where are the servants? Ah-ha! [sees Truff. In the wings]. Here’s one.

SCENE 8; III,8

[Enter Truffaldino brought in by force by Brighella]

Flor. Come here, come here, don't be afraid.

Beat. We just want to talk to you.

Truff. [aside]. Yeah right: they both “talked” me unconscious three scenes ago.

Brig. When we find the other one we’ll bring him in.

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Flor. Yes, we need them both.

Brig. [aloud to offstage] Check the kitchen—find that servant! [Exit Brig.]

Flor. [to Truff.]. Okay now, tell us why you and the other fellow tricked us with this very attractive portrait of myself and some book? Why did you drive us to such suffering?

Truff. [To Flor.] Please, sir, can we speak in private? [To Beat., just as he turns to speak to Flor.] I’ll tell you everything. [To Flor.] I gotta tell you sir, all that’s happened is not my fault. It was Burt, the servant to that Lady over there. [cautiously pointing at Beat.]. That rascal, he mixed everything up, putting this there, and there in this, etc, etc. Burt, that poor booby, begged me to take the blame, for fear that his master would fire him, fine him, or have him beaten senseless. And Burt, you know, he’s such a good natured guy—kind, stupid, and very attractive—I decided to help him cover it up with a story. I never wanted to upset you—sorry about the suffering and all—but what I have just spoken is the truth, the whole truth, and all about the truth, and I remain, ever, your faithful servant, Truffaldino.

Beat. [aside]. It’s a long story.

Flor. [aside to Truff.]. Then the man who got you to fetch that letter from the Ponte Rialto Postale was the servant of Signora Beatrice?

Truff. [aside to Flor.]. Yes, that was Burt.

Flor. I should open-up-a-can on both of you!!!

Truff. [aside]. So much for “we just want to talk to you.”

Beat. [to Flor] Are you finished?

Flor. This zanni was just telling me—

Truff. [aside to Flor.]. For God’s sake don’t say it was Burt; I’ll take the blame sir. You can even beat me. But spare Burt, spare him.

Flor. [aside to Truff.]. Are you so devoted to Burt?

Truff. Love him like myself. Now I’m goin’ over there, and I’m gonna take the blame, she can scold me, even beat me, but I will protect my good friend Burt. [Truff. moves towards Beat.]

Flor. [aside] He’s loyal; I’ll give him that.

86

Truff. [to Beat.] Madam.

Beat. [aside to Truff.]. So, what was that all about?

Truff. [aside to Beat.]. Please know, madam, that that gentleman has a servant named Burt; he’s not a tool in the sharpenin’ shed, and he messed everything up. See, Burt’s been tending to his feeble Grammy so I made up the whole story about the book, the willy, the dead and drowned master, and the rest of it. And I just now confessed all to Signor Florindo.

Beat. Burt and you are a pretty pair of rascals.

Truff. We are. [aside]. She’s both half wrong and doubly right!

Flor. Come come; enough jibber-jabber. Both servants certainly deserve a wallop—spare the rod and spoil the zanni, I always say. [gearing up for violence] Beat. [soothing Flor.] But maybe, just maybe, we can forgive them just this once? It’s not like they were “serving double”? Flor. True. There is nothing so terrible as “serving double”. [Truff. Takes to the audience] Well maybe…this once... we can…show…mercy.

Beat. Your mercy is quite manly. Well, we should go see Clarice and try to smooth things over with Signor Pantalone; will you join me?

Flor. I’d love to, but I have to wait here to meet my broker. I can join you later if you are in haste.

Beat. I am in haste. Any chance you could meet the broker tomorrow and accompany me now? Flor. Can-no-do: now that I am to remain among the living, my portfolio needs tending and money makes the world go ‘round. Beat. Among other things, well, meet me at Pantalone's when you can. Truffaldino can show you the way. My dear Florindo what torments I have suffered for your love!

Flor. Me too darling, me too. Beat. [aside] He’s brushing me off to play with his portfolio, yet still I love him more than I love myself. And I don’t know why. Do you know why you’re in love?

87

I can’t say for sure, but Florindo’s such a man!

[Exit Beatrice]

Flor. [aside] Wow, what a day: suffering, despair, delight, and—hopefully soon—money management. That’s what life’s all about right? Vanquish all foes till you achieve a state of fiscal dominance where you can control the world from beyond the grave! That, and beat a bull market!

Truff. Right. I love food. But my dread lord, I must ask you a favor.

Flor. A favor?

Truff. Yes. You see, sir, I'm in love too.

Flor. [disinterested] Really?

Truff. Yes, and my young woman serves Signor Pantalone; and it would be very kind if—

Flor. Come on, out with it!

Truff. Well, sir, since you will soon be married, and I am your servant, I’m hoping that some of that marriage can trickle down on me? Can you put in a good word for me with Signor Pantalone?

Flor. Possibly: does the girl want you?

Truff. Oh yeah, no doubt there. All I need is Pantalone’s permission; I beg you sir, speak for my sake.

Flor. Possibly: but can you afford to keep a wife? No, I advise you to hold off on marriage: work hard, invest in bonds, compound the interest, and ask her again in 12 years.

Truff. Sir, respectfully, 12 hours is too long without my Smeraldina. And I’ll work hard, make money—who knows, maybe one day I can be a Crotchetist like you.

Flor. Laugh Out Loud! Funny zanni! Alright, I will speak to Pantalone on your behalf.

[Exit Florindo. into his Room]

Truff. Oh master thank you! “Love eases all burdens.” Thank you master. Thank you!

88

[Exit Truffaldino. Re-enter Florindo]

Flor. [calling after] But you should look at the bond market. Think of the tax breaks! [aside] Huh, what people do for love eh? Oh my, a bright thingy in my head is starting to glow!

[Exit Florindo]

SCENE 10; III,10

A Room in the House of Pantalone.

Pantalone, the Doctor, Clarice, Silvio and Smeraldina.

Pant. [enters pulling Clarice from the arm dragging her across stage. Clarice is sobbing] Come daughter, pull yourself together and forgive good Silvio. He has begged your forgiveness and apologized for his foolishness—all of which he did for love. I’ve forgiven him—and he was strangling me—surely you can forgive him too? There’s a new dress in the deal for you punkin’.

Sil. Clarice, I most truly love you. Do not let bitterness spoil the most beautiful day in your life.

Doc. Clarice, my dear daughter-in-law-to-be, pity this poor young man’s passion; he lost his mind he loves you so much: “cranus insanus!”

Smer. Madam, what are you waiting for? Men are petty and cruel but what can we do? Times being what they are, you must take a husband. So like we say to the sick—“take your medicine.”

Pant. There, do you hear that? Smeraldina rightly calls marriage medicine. Forgive the boy. [aside to Doc.] We must sweeten the deal.

Doc. [aside to Pant.] Can do! [aloud] Matrimony is the tastiest of medicines: a lollipop for the soul, a cotton candy for the heart, a candy bar of delight, day and night—

Sil. My dear Clarice, please forgive me? Show mercy, do not punish me with silence. Behold me at your feet; mercy! [falls to the ground at Clarice’s feet]

Clar. [to Sil. with a sigh]. Cruel!

Pant. [aside to Doc.]. She speaks!

89

Doc. [aside to Sil.]. Get your “word on” my boy. [Silvio starts to “man up.” Smeraldina quickly interjects]

Smer. [aside to Sil.]. Sweet words; sweet and from your heart. [Silvio nods.]

Sil. If I thought you desired blood to avenge my cruelty, my blood, I would give it you in buckets—lots of it! But, oh God!!! Instead of the blood rushing through my flesh, accept, I beg you, the tears that gush from my eyes. [Weeps.]

Pant. Bravo!

Doc. Wow!

Clar. Cruel!

Pant. [taking their hands] Now, join your hands and make peace. No more tears, no more nonsense; be happy and Heaven bless you both.

Doc. Done.

Smer. And double done.

Sil. [holding Clar.'s hand]. Oh, sweet Clarice, for pity's sake—

Clar. Beast!

Sil. Dearest!

Clar. Devil!

Sil. Angel!

Clar. [sighs]. Ah!

Pant. [aside]. Going—

Sil. Forgive me for the love of Heaven. Doc. [aside]. Going—

Clar. [sighs]. I forgive you.

Pant. [aside]. Gone!

Smer. The patient is ready; give her the medicine. [they kiss]

90

Doc. Wonderful! Better than Nutella! SCENE 11; III,11

[Enter Brighella]

Brig. Mind if I come in?

Pant. Yes come on in, my good friend Brighella. Wasn’t it you that told me all those reassuring stories, that a certain someone was Signor Federigo?

Brig. Sir, she tricked me too. They were twins ya know—two peas in a pod. She looked like Federigo to me.

Pant. Enough, what’s done is done.

Brig. Very good. Signora Beatrice is outside and wants to pay her respects.

Pant. Ask her in; she is most welcome.

Clar. Poor Signora Beatrice, I am happy to know her troubles are over.

Sil. You are sorry for her?

Clar. Very much so.

Sil. And for me? [they embrace]

Pant. [aside to Doc.]. It’s working out.

Doc. [aside to Pant.]. So it seems.

Pant. And my daughter has a very good heart.

Smer. Yes, and it looks like a 2 to 3 stock split is in their not-so-distant-future. [all “ooo” and “ahhh that’s so sweet, babies” etc.]

SCENE 12; III,12

[Enter Beatrice]

Beat. Ladies and gentlemen, I come to ask your pardon and forgiveness, for all the mayhem I have caused—

91

Clar. No, no, my dear; come here. [Embraces her.]

Sil. [aside]. Little funny.

Pant. Well, well, Signora Beatrice, I must say, for a woman, you have remarkable courage.

Doc. [to Beat.]. Much spirit, madam: “grandus spiritatus.” And the fashion suits you.

Beat. Love makes one do great things and we never know why.

Pant. And I hear you have found your young gentleman at last?

Beat. Yes. He’s tending to some business but will hopefully join us soon.

Sil. Now that I am happy, I want everyone to be happy. Is anyone else getting married? Let them all get married!

Smer. [to Sil.]. I’m ready! I don’t know why!

Sil. Who are you going to marry?

Smer. The first man that comes along, sir. [aside] Why did I say that?

[Enter Truffaldino]

Truff. How’s it going?

Beat. [to Truff.]. Where is my Florindo?

Truff. He awaits outside, and would like to come in.

Pant. Is that your young gentleman?

Beat. He’s going to marry me.

Pant. He is welcome.

Beat. [to Truff.]. Show him in.

Truff. [aside to Smer.]. Hey baby, what’s up?

Smer. [aside to Truff.]. What’s up yourself my little slapstick.

Truff. We should talk.

Smer. About what?

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Truff. You and me: together?

Smer. Well, why not!

Truff. Yes! Ruff.

[Exit Truffaldino]

Smer. Bow-wow. [to Clar.]. Madam, I have a favor to ask.

Clar. [going aside to listen to Smer.]. What is it?

Smer. [to Clar.]. I am a poor girl and want to settle myself; there's the servant of Signora Beatrice and he wants to marry me. If you would put in a good word for me, and get her to allow us to marry, I would be the happiest girl in the world. After you of course.

Clar. Dear Smeraldina, I will do it; as soon as I can.

Pant. [to Clar.]. What’s all this whispering about?

Clar. Nothing, sir; girl talk.

Sil. But since I am your husband-to-be,/ surely you can share this talk with me./

Clar. I don’t think so mister nosy-pants!/ If you persist, I’ll start to rant!/ Doc. [aside to Pant.] It’s like they’re already married! SCENE 13; III,13

[Enter Florindo shown in by Truffaldino]

Truf. [to tune of Black Sabath’s Iron Man] Here comes Flor-in-do/the most impulsive man in the show!

Flor. Your most humble servant, ladies and gentleman. [All bow and curtsey] [To Pant.] Are you the master of the house, sir?

Pant. Yours to command, sir.

Flor. Allow me, sir, the honor of waiting upon you this evening; I present myself at the request of Signora Beatrice, our trials I am sure are known to you. Beat. [aside to Flor.] Your business is finished so quickly?

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Flor. [aside to Beat.] The broker can wait. Beat. [aside to Flor.] You had a choice between love and money, and you chose me? Flor. [aside to Beat.] Yes, that’s the theme of the play! [Beat embraces him].

Pant. Congratulations on your good fortune.

Flor. Signora Beatrice is to be my wife, but since I slew her brother no one in her family wants this marriage, not even her crazy uncle Jasper. I hope you will honor us and give away the bride.

Pant. My pleasure, and no time like the present: give her your hand.

Flor. Signora Beatrice, I am willing.

Beat. And so am I: here is my hand, Signor Florindo.

Smer. [aside]. It’s so romantic and steamy.

Pant. After the wedding, we will settle the financials so that all may profit and prosper with this marriage—I mean merger—I mean marriage. [all puzzled]

Clar. [to Beat.]. Dear friend, accept my congratulations. [shows her the pinky]

Beat. [to Clar.]. And you mine, with all my heart.

Sil. [to Flor.]. Congratulations Mr. Polo.

Flor. [to Sil.]. Likewise, sir.

Pant. Sometimes life just works out.

Truff. And the best is yet to come!

Pant. What is yet to come?

Truff. [aside to Flor] You remember what you promised me, sir?

Flor. No; no I do not.

Truff. To ask Signor Pantalone for Smeraldina to be my wife.

Flor. Oh yes, now I remember.

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Truff. [aside]. Let’s do this thing!

Flor. Signor Pantalone, though we’ve just met, I have to ask you a favor.

Pant. I am yours to command.

Flor. My man-servant desires to marry your maid-servant; may they have your consent?

Smer. [aside]. Oh yeah! Two men want me—this girl is in demand!

Pant. They have my consent. [To Smer.] What say you, girl?

Smer. Will he make a good husband? Is he easy on the eye? How many contestants are there?

Pant. This servant of yours, is he a good honest man?

Flor. Honest and resilient.

Clar. Signor Florindo, I was to propose the marriage of my maid-servant to the manservant of Signora Beatrice. But you have beat me to it—blah-blah-blah, for sure—I can say no more, I just can’t.

Flor. No, no; “ladies first.” I withdraw my proposal; please proceed.

Clar. No, no; “first come, first served.” Pray you proceed.

Flor. You perplex me with proceedings madam. Signor Pantalone, I withdraw all that I have said; I am now absolutely opposed to this servant-marriage.

Clar. If your man is not to marry her, then she shall not marry any man. We must be fair.

Truff. [aside]. Fair to everyone but me!

Smer. [aside]. Can’t a girl get some love in her life?

Pant. Well, that’s the way it goes: there’s always yahtzee. [all shocked. Some excited]

Truff. Stop! Sir, madam, I can settle this matter myself. Signor Florindo, did you not ask the hand of Smeraldina for your servant?

Flor. You know I did; you were right there.

Truff. And you, Signora Clarice, did you not ask Smeraldina to marry the manservant of Signora Beatrice?

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Clar. You know I did. Right there.

Truff. Good; since all that is so, give me your hand, Smeraldina.

Pant. Hold the phone: what right have you to ask for her hand?

Truff. Because I am the servant of both Signor Florindo and of Signora Beatrice too.

Pant. Say what? Flor. What? Beat. What do you say?

Smer. What! Doc. What lives in Padua!

Truff. Pray be calm!!! Signora Clarice, who did you have in mind for Smeraldina?

Clar. You.

Truff. Perfecto; this with that and: Smeraldina is mine.

Flor. Beatrice, where is your servant?

Beat. Right here, Truffaldino, of course.

Flor. Truffaldino? He is my servant!

Beat. Is not Burt your servant?

Flor. Burt? I thought Burt was your servant! [Flor and Beat discover in unison.]

Flor. You shyster!

Beat. You scallywag!

Flor. Serving Double! Beat. You waited on two masters at once!

Truff. Yes indeed I did, a desperate scheme; necessary Capophicalism to feel the golden trickle and get some decent grub. And I would’ve gotten away with it too if it hadn’t been for Love. For life without Smeraldina would hurt more than a

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hundred beatings. I have worked hard; serving two masters is not easy, and there were some bumps along the way—your near suicides and my being beat unconscious being a couple low points. But as the Bread Elf told me in my dream, “give a person bread, they eat for one day. But if that person has an oven, and a roof, along with some flower, eggs, yeast, a tad of sugar, and a cook book, well, that person might just make some cookies.” [all react with excitement to cookies] So, serve each other with kindness, and be extra kind to those who serve you. Beat. Another theme in the play! [all respond: “how profound”, “love those themes” etc.] Truf. But if I must be beaten, I pray you, let it be tomorrow. For tonight I need all my strength to serve Smeraldina. Smer. Oh hell yes! [they embrace]

Blackout—End of Play