Sicilian Tragedee (23 page)

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Authors: Ottavio Cappellani

BOOK: Sicilian Tragedee
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CAPOREALE
grabs a stunned
BENVOLIO
and comes onstage holding him tightly by the arm, walking back and forth, back and forth,
BENVOLIO
on the audience side. They’re talking about the Capulet feast. When it’s time to reverse direction,
CAPOREALE
is speedier than an Olympic swimmer.
 
ROMEO
I’ll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.
 
Exeunt.
 
Cagnotto looks at Caporeale. “Why so tight?”
“Tight?”
“You and Benvolio.”
“Who was tight?”
“Nobody was tight. You were holding on to Benvolio tightly.”
“Oh, right. That worked okay, no?”
“No idea. From here I can’t tell.”
“Warm, warm, the audience is warm.”
Cagnotto looks at Caporeale.
Caporeale nods. “Warm.”
Lambertini walks in front of Cagnotto and Caporeale, picking up speed for her first appearance onstage.
Cagnotto and Caporeale turn to look at a fast-moving Juliet.
 
JULIET
comes onstage running.
 
JULIET
How now? Who calls?
 
The audience breaks out in boisterous applause.
Lady Capulet tells her daughter Juliet that she would like her to marry Paris.
The feast in the Capulet household begins.
On the street, Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, and five or six maskers approach the house with torchbearers, servants, etc.
Mercutio, Benvolio, the five or six maskers, torchbearers, servants, etc., come onstage.
Romeo remains behind the scenes.
“Hey, Caporeale, you’re on,” says Cagnotto.
“Okay, just a minute, for the
suspense.

“Suspense?”
Caporeale nods competently. Then, still offstage, he recites his line.
 
The voice of
ROMEO
is heard offstage.
What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without apology?
 
Cagnotto says to Caporeale, “Caporeale, what are you up to?”

“Trust me, trust me.”

 

BENVOLIO
(
Looking around worriedly; where is
ROMEO
?
)
The date is out of such prolixity
We’ll have no Cupid hoodwinked with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar’s painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper,
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance
But, let them measure us by what they will,
We’ll measure them a measure and be gone.
ROMEO
(
He hurls himself onstage grabbing a torch from the hands of a torchbearer, and, holding it with both hands in front of his codpiece, exclaims
)
Give me a torch, I am not for this ambling.
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
MERCUTIO
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. (MERCUTIO
continues, although not from the script.
)
Lay down thy torch, my noble Romeo.
ROMEO
Never hath the thought crossed my mind. And you,
My trusted Mercutio, worry more about your own dances,
Make sure they are graceful so as not to cut
A poor figure in a house that hides a treasure. (
This too is not in
the script, but now he picks up from Shakespeare.
)
You have dancing shoes
With nimble souls. I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. (
He adds, ad lib
)
And so I keep the torch.
MERCUTIO
… Put down the torch and (
He segues into the script.
)
Borrow Cupid’s wings
And soar with them above a common bound.
ROMEO
I am too sore empierced with his shaft
To soar with his light feathers; and so bound
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe.
Under love’s heavy burden do I sink.
MERCUTIO
And to sink in it, should you burden love—Too great oppression for a tender thing.
ROMEO
Tender is what you are, my dear Mercutio
All in our fair Verona, know your tenderness, but love (
Back to
the script again
) is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
MERCUTIO
If love be rough with you, be rough with love.
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. (
He goes on,
improvising.
)
Throw down the torch, and let us see
Your tender thing.
BENVOLIO
Come, knock and enter …
ROMEO
I’ll be a candleholder and look on.
 
ROMEO
strides across the stage holding the torch with both hands in front of his codpiece.
 
The audience is watching with great interest. They know that Romeo will see his Juliet for the first time at the Capulet feast.
 
ROMEO
What lady’s that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight?
SERVINGMAN
I know not, sir.
ROMEO
Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
… The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand
And touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
 
JULIET
finishes her dance. She goes to stand near one of the tubes of the scaffolding.
ROMEO
strides toward her, torch in hand, and approaches slyly.
 
ROMEO
(
To
JULIET) If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this.
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. (
Off script he adds
)
I know not who thou art;
Old relic in a holy shrine thou seemst.
Hath they not told thee so?
JULIET
(
Rubbing herself romantically against the scaffolding and
improvising
) Thou too, good pilgrim, a relic to me seemst,
Your sister, too, though blessed with family grace. (
She segues
into Shakespeare.
)
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch.
ROMEO
Have not saints lips?
JULIET
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
ROMEO
Ah, then my fairest relic of a saint (
He segues into
Shakespeare.
)
Let lips do what hands do!
They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
JULIET
Saints do not move …
ROMEO
And therefore, my holy relic (
He segues into Shakespeare.
)
Move not while my prayer’s effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purged.
 
ROMEO
kisses
JULIET
.
 
The audience applauds.
 
 
Act One over, Cagnotto says to Caporeale, “Nice, the ballroom scene with the torch in your hand.”
Caporeale makes a gratified, modest face.
“Where you want this?” asks an Interflora deliveryman with a wisteria vine in hand.
“Oh, um, like this.” Cagnotto shows him with a flip of the hand where to put the wisteria on the tubular scaffolding.
The deliveryman puts the wisteria down on the ground, gets up, looks at Cagnotto, looks at the scaffolding, and, miming the graceful gesture that Cagnotto has just made, says, “Like this?”
“Yes, that’s right, like that.”
“Can I take it?” asks Caporeale pointing to the wisteria.
“Be my guest,” says the Interflora man, “we’ve got a truckful.”
“Caporeale, what are you doing with that?”
“There’s the garden scene and the balcony scene, no?”
 
 
The Interflora deliverymen come onstage to decorate the scaffolding with wisteria.
The audience applauds.
From behind the wings, a leg appears, which we understand from the voice belongs to
ROMEO
.
 
Can I go forward when my heart is here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out.
 
The leg is withdrawn.
 
 
Enter
BENVOLIO
and
MERCUTIO
.
They are speaking of
ROMEO
.
From their talk we understand that
ROMEO
has scaled a wall.
The wall is that of Capulet’s house.
ROMEO
is determined to meet his
JULIET
.
The Capulet garden.

Enter
ROMEO
with a sprig of wisteria in front of his codpiece.

 

ROMEO
He jests at scars that never felt a wound. (
He improvises.
) Constrained behind a bush to spy my love!
 
JULIET
comes out on the balcony, stroking the wisteria.
 
ROMEO
But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!
… She speaks. Yet she says nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourses. I will answer it.
JULIET
Ay me!
ROMEO
She speaks. (
He improvises.
)
Behind this bush
I’ll hear my love.
JULIET
O Romeo, Romeo!—wherefore art thou, Romeo?
 
Now,
ROMEO
may be in love, but
CAPOREALE
is a cynical cocksucker, so he begins to play a double who makes faces at the audience, an old trick of the trade in dialect theater. What follows are his facial expressions, with translations.
 
DOUBLE
(
Brings his chin forward with a jerk
)
And who should I be?
JULIET
Deny thy father and refuse thy name
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
DOUBLE
(
Closes his eyelids and simultaneously raises his eyebrows as he moves his head up and to the left
)
Let’s not get carried away.
JULIET
’Tis but thy name which is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
DOUBLE
(
Knits his brows, looks up and to the right
)
I would not be me if I were not a Montague? I would be a Montague if I were not an enemy? I would be … what the fuck’s she talking about?
JULIET
What’s Montague?
DOUBLE
(
Arches his eyebrows and at the same time pulls the corners of his mouth down
)
What the fuck do you think it is? It’s my name.
JULIET
It is not hand nor foot
Nor arm nor face nor any other part
Belonging to a man.
DOUBLE
(CAPOREALE
looks at his body worriedly. His arms, his feet, his back.
)
JULIET
O be some other name!
What’s in a name?
DOUBLE
(
He clenches his teeth and widens his mouth, stretching his neck muscles.
)
Shit,
JULIET
is really pathetic tonight.
JULIET
That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet.
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title.
DOUBLE
(
He writes an
M
with his head, as if he were following a complicated argument or the flight of a butterfly.
)
JULIET
Romeo, doff thy name;
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.
 
Briskly,
CAPOREALE
lets go of the bush and turns toward the balcony.
 
ROMEO
Call me but love (
and, he ad libs
), get it over with!
JULIET
What man art thou?
ROMEO
(
Ad libs
) No idea, you’ve messed up my mind.
 
Signora Spampinato, wife of Commissioner Spampinato, rushes away from her seat because she has pissed in her pants.
 
The courtship over, a light goes on inside the structure of tubular scaffolding. It is
FRIAR LAWRENCE
’s cell.
FRIAR LAWRENCE
is already
sitting down.
ROMEO
, his back as always to the audience, enters the cell and sits down.
 
FRIAR LAWRENCE
has taken
ROMEO
’s case to heart. He hopes that a wedding will end the historic rivalry between the two houses.
 
The lights in his cell go out and the piazza lights up.
BENVOLIO
and
MERCUTIO
come on, wondering what has become of Romeo.
CAPOREALE
comes out of
FRIAR LAWRENCE
’s dark cell, walking backward.
 
BENVOLIO
Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!
MERCUTIO
Without his roe (COSENTINO
shapes his hands in an oval, like a shad roe.
), like a dried herring. (COSENTINO
raises the little finger of his right hand.
) O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified. Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in. Laura, to his lady, was a kitchen wench—marry, she had a better love to berhyme her—Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gypsy, Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, Thisbe a gray eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signor Romeo,
bonjour.
There’s a French salutation (COSENTINO
touches an ear.
) to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
ROMEO
Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
MERCUTIO
The slip, sir, the slip. (
He ad libs.
) Know what I mean?
ROMEO
Pardon, good Mercutio. My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
MERCUTIO
That’s as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.
ROMEO
(
His back to the audience, he bows, making a respectful gesture with his hand.
) Meaning, to curtsy.
MERCUTIO
Thou hast most kindly hit it.
ROMEO
(
Still bent over, still with his back to the audience, tucking
his kidneys in to accentuate his rear end
) A most courteous exposition.
MERCUTIO
(COSENTINO
is staring at
CAPOREALE
’s rear end.
) Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. (COSENTINO
makes a fist and raises his arm.
)
ROMEO
Pink for flower? (CAPOREALE
closes one fist, brings it up to his ear, and opens it like a rose in the flowering dawn, caressing ever so suavely the flesh of his ear.
)
MERCUTIO
(
With a quick wave of his hand, as if he were chasing off an unwelcome suitor
) Right!
 
CAPOREALE
bends his knees, bounces like a sumo wrestler, jumps up, pirouettes to finish with his face finally in the direction of the audience, continues to bounce on his knees for a few seconds, waiting, like the craftsman he is, until all the various tiers have become aware of what he’s got in his undershorts: an outburst of creation, a delightful monstrosity, a gift of nature so extreme as to be supernatural, an explosion of love, a roar of magniloquence, a bang of surprise and joy …
 
ROMEO
(
Adjusting his codpiece
) Why, then is my pump wellflower’d!
 
Stuf-f-f
is the sound of a bullet coming out of a gun with a silencer. Usually the only one who can hear it is the gunman, because the gun is too far away from where the bullet hits.
Sg-nack
, that’s what it sounds like when a bullet hits the frontal bone of the human cranium. It’s as if the bony substance wasn’t aware of being perforated like that all of a sudden, and didn’t manage to make an appropriate sound. You would expect, just a few milliseconds later, to hear a more significant, more impressive sound, when the bullet, now flattened and misshapen from the entry point, emerges from the occipital bone in a cornucopia of cerebral matter.
Here, you’re likely to be twice disappointed; for whatever reason, all that comes out is a ridiculous
Sber-equeck.
The visual effects, however, are something else, and deliver great satisfaction. The minuscule dark dot that opens on Commissioner Falsaperla’s brow (it’s not red because the blood has not yet had time to seep out) corresponds, behind him, with a genuine fountain of bone, brain, and blood, a bucketful of Commissioner Falsaperla sprayed on the Contessa, the Baronessa, and assorted lady aristocrats nearby. Their summer dresses and faces suddenly covered with irregular polka dots. Clots of brain stuck in the decorations of their fans.
The Contessa, who’s still contemplating the dimensions of Caporeale’s member and wondering if it is a stage member or a real one, feels something damp hit her face.
She looks up to see if it’s starting to rain.
 
 
Paino, not knowing what to do, orders the band to resume playing.
The band, not knowing what to do, starts off at the beginning of the program.
While Signora Falsaperla’s screams die down (louder than if she had found Gnazia giving her husband a blow job) the amphitheater of San Giovanni la Punta hears the opening notes of
Festa paesana.
 
Curtain.

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