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The Man from Home

Chapter 6: THE SECOND ACT
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About This Book

A plain-spoken lawyer from the American Midwest arrives at a fashionable Italian resort and upends a group of European aristocrats and socialites through blunt honesty and small-town values. The arrival triggers romantic entanglements, mistaken identities, and comic confrontations with rank-conscious hosts, an incognito noble, and matchmaking schemes. Scenes move through terraces, gardens, and hotel salons where cultural misunderstandings expose vanity and hypocrisy while sentimental loyalty and straightforward decency challenge old-world affectation. The play balances brisk humor and satirical social observation with moments of warmth as characters are forced to reconsider assumptions about class, sincerity, and the costs of social performance.

[pg 075]

THE SECOND ACT

Scene: Entrance garden of the hotel.

In the distance are seen the green slopes of vineyards, a ruined castle, and olive orchards leading up the mountainside.

An old stone wall seven feet high runs across the rear of the stage. This wall is almost covered with vines, showing autumn tints, crowning the crest of the wall and hanging from it in profusion. There is a broad green gate of the Southern Italian type, closed. A white-columned pergola runs obliquely down from the wall on the right. The top of the pergola is an awning formed by a skeleton of green-painted wooden strips thickly covered by entwining lemon branches bearing ripening lemons. Between the columns of the pergola are glimpses of a formal Italian garden: flowers, hedges, and a broad flat marble vase on a slender pedestal, etc. On the left a two-story wing of the hotel meets the wall at the back and runs square across to the left; a lemon grove lies to the left also. The wall of the hotel facing the audience shows open double doors, with windows up-stairs and below, all with lowered awnings. There is a marble bench at the left among shrubberies; an [pg 076] open touring-car upon the right under the awning formed by the overhang of the pergola; a bag of tools, open, on the stage near by, the floor boards of the car removed, the apron lifted.

As the curtain rises, PIKE, in his shirt-sleeves, his hands dirty, and wearing a workman's long blouse buttoned at neck, is bending over the engine, working and singing, at intervals whistling "The Blue and the Gray." His hat, duster, and cuffs are on the rear seat of the tonneau.

[Enter HORACE from the garden. He is flushed and angry; controls himself with an effort, trying to speak politely.]

HORACE

Mr. Pike!

PIKE

[apparently not hearing him, hammering at a bolt-head with a monkey-wrench and singing]

"One lies down at Appomattox—"

HORACE

[sharply]

Mr. Pike! Mr. Pike, I wish a word with you.

PIKE

[looks up mildly]

Hum!

[He moves to the other side of the engine, rubbing handle of monkey-wrench across his chin as if puzzled.]

PIKE

[regarding the machine intently, sings softly]

"One wore clothes of gray—."

[Then he whistles the air. Throughout this interview he maintains almost constantly an air of absorption in his work and continues to whistle and sing softly.]

HORACE

[continuing]

I have been even more upset by what I have just learned from my sister.

PIKE

[absently]

Why, that's too bad.

HORACE

It is too bad—absurdly—monstrously bad! She tells me that she has done you the honor to present you to the family with which we are forming an alliance—to the Earl of Hawcastle—her fiancé's father—

PIKE

[with cheerful absent-mindedness—working]

Yes, sir!

HORACE

[continuing]

To her fiancé's aunt, Lady Creech—

HORACE

And she introduced you to her fiancé—to Mr. St. Aubyn himself.

PIKE

[looking up, monkey-wrench in hand]

Yes, sir;

[chuckles]

we had quite a talk about shootin' in Indiana; said he'd heard of Peru, in his school history. Wanted to come out some day, he said, and asked what our best game was. I told him we had some Incas still preserved in the mountains of Indiana, and he said he'd like a good Inca head to put up in his gun-room. He ought to get one, oughtn't he?

[Starts to work again, busily.]

HORACE

[indignantly]

My sister informs me that in spite of Lord Hawcastle's most graciously offering to discuss her engagement with you, you refused.

PIKE

Well, I didn't see any need of it.

HORACE

Furthermore, you allege that you will decline to go into the matter with Lord Hawcastle's solicitor.

PIKE

What matter?

HORACE

[angrily]

The matter of the settlement.

HORACE

[roaring]

Nothing! What do you mean?

PIKE

Well, I thought you'd probably charge her

[with a slight drawl]

a little, anyhow. Ain't that the way over here?

[Turns to work again, humming "Dolly Gray."]

HORACE

It is impossible for you to understand the motives of my sister and myself in our struggle not to remain in the vulgar herd. But can't you try to comprehend that there is an Old-World society, based not on wealth, but on that indescribable something which comes of ancient lineage and high birth?

[With great indignation.]

You presume to interfere between us and the fine flower of Europe!

PIKE

[straightening up, but speaking quietly]

Well, I don't know as the folks around Kokomo would ever have spoke of your father as a "fine flower," but we thought a heap of him, and when he married your ma he was so glad to get her—well, I never heard yet that he asked for any settlement!

HORACE

You are quite impossible.

HORACE

There is no profit in continuing the discussion.

[Turns on his heel, but immediately turns again toward PIKE, who is apparently preoccupied.]

And I warn you we shall act without paying the slightest attention to you.

[Triumphantly.]

What have you to say to that, sir?

[PIKE'S answer is conveyed by the motor-horn, which says: "Honk! Honk!" HORACE throws up his hands despairingly. PIKE'S voice becomes audible in the last words of the song: "Good-bye, Dolly Gray."]

[Enter LADY CREECH and ALMERIC through the gates.]

HORACE

[meeting them]

The fellow is hopeless.

LADY CREECH

[not hearing, and speaking from habit, automatically]

Dreadful person!

[PIKE continues his work, paying no attention.]

LADY CREECH

[with a Parthian glance at the unconscious PIKE]

I sha'h't stop in the creature's presence—I shall go up to my room for my forty winks.

[Exit into the hotel.]

ALMERIC

[as she goes out]

Day-day, aunt!

[To HORACE]

I'm off to look at that pup again. You trust the Governor.

VASILI

You make progress, my friend?

PIKE

Your machine's like a good many people—got sand in its gear-box.

VASILI

[to MARIANO]

Are you locking us in?

MARIANO

[excitedly coming down and showing a big key which he has taken from the lock]

No, Herr von Gröllerhagen, I lock some one out—that bandit who have not been capture. The carabiniere warn us to close all gates for an hour. They will have that wicked one soon. There are two companies.

[In a lower tone to VASILI.]

Monsieur Ribiere has much fears.

VASILI

Monsieur Ribiere is sometimes a fool.

MARIANO

[in a hoarse whisper]

Monsieur, this convict is a Russian.

[VASILI waves him away somewhat curtly.]

[Exit MARIANO, shaking his head, carrying the key with him.]

PIKE

Two companies of soldiers! A town marshal out my way would 'a' had him yesterday.

PIKE

How's that.

VASILI

[significantly]

I see how a son of that great democracy can apply himself to a dirty machine, while his eyes are full of visions of one of its beautiful daughters.

PIKE

[slowly and sadly, peering into the machine]

Doc, there's sand in your gear-box.

VASILI

[laughing]

So?

PIKE

You go down to the kitchen and make signs for some of the help to give you a nice clean bunch of rags.

VASILI

[surprised into hauteur]

What is it you ask me to do?

PIKE

I need some more rags.

VASILI

[amused]

My friend, I obey.

[Makes a mock-serious bow and starts.]

PIKE

I won't leave the machine—'twouldn't be safe.

VASILI

[halting, laughs]

You fear this famous bandit would steal it?

PIKE

No; but there's parties around here might think it was a settlement.

VASILI

I do not understand.

VASILI

Weidersehn, my friend.

[Exit into hotel.]

[PIKE kneels on the foot-board of machine above gear-box, begins to clean, using an old rag, singing "Sweet Genevieve." A distant shot is heard. PIKE looks up at this, ceasing to sing. Then he continues his work and music. LADY CREECH leans out from her window, staring off to the right with opera-glasses. There is a noise at the gates as some one hastily but cautiously tries to open them. PIKE looks up again, turns toward the gates, and, after a short pause, again begins to sing and work, but very softly.]

[IVANOFF appears on top of the wall at back, climbing up cautiously from lane below. He creeps from the wall to the top of pergola and cautiously along that through the foliage to above PIKE. He peers over the foliage at PIKE.]

[PIKE looks up slowly, and, as slowly, stops "Sweet Genevieve," his voice [pg 085] fading away on a half syllable as he encounters IVANOFF'S gaze. They stare at each other, LADY CREECH observing unseen.]

[IVANOFF is a thin, very fragile-looking man of thirty-eight. His disordered hair is prematurely gray, his beard is a grizzled four days' stubble. He is exceedingly haggard and worn, but has the face and look of a man of refinement and cultivation. He has lost his hat; his shoes and trousers are splashed with dried mud, and brambles cling to him here and there. He wears a soiled white shirt and collar, and a torn black tie, black waistcoat and trousers. He is covered with dust from head to foot; one sleeve of his shirt has been torn off at the elbow. He wears no coat.]

IVANOFF

[in a voice tremulous with tragic appeal]

Et ce que vous êtes un homme de bon coeur? Je ne suis pas coupable—

IVANOFF

[panting]

You are an Englishman?

PIKE

[quietly, rising and stepping back]

That'll do for that. You come down from there!

IVANOFF

[in a voice that lifts, almost cracks, with sudden hope]

An American?

PIKE

They haven't made me anything else yet.

IVANOFF

[swinging himself down to the ground]

Thank God for that!

[He leans against the car, exhausted.]

PIKE

I do. What makes you so glad about it?

IVANOFF

Because I have suffered in the cause your own forefathers gave their lives for. I am a Russian political fugitive, and I can go no farther. If you give me up I shall not be taken alive. I have no weapon, but I can find a way to cut my throat.

PIKE

[with humorous incredulity]

Are you the bandit they're lookin' for?

IVANOFF

They call me that. Do I look like a bandit?

PIKE

How close are they?

IVANOFF

[with despairing gesture]

There!

PIKE

Did they see you climb that wall?

IVANOFF

Oh, my God! it is they!

[He staggers back against the machine.]

PIKE

[hastily stripping off his working blouse]

Do you know anything about gear-box plugs?

[The ringing continues.]

IVANOFF

Nothing in the world.

PIKE

Then you're a chauffeur.

[Puts blouse on him.]

Take a look at this one.

[With emphatic significance.]

It's underneath the machine.

[Quickly sets his hands on IVANOFF'S shoulders, having forced the blouse on him, and pushes him beneath the car.]

MARIANO

[within the hotel, calling]

Subito! Subito! Vengo, Signore! Vengo!

[PIKE at same time rapidly wipes his hands on a rag, puts on his hat, cuffs, and coat, which have been lying on the seat.]

MARIANO

Ecco!

[Throws open gates and falls back in astonishment.]

Dio mio!

[Two carabiniere, good-looking, soldierly men in the carabiniere uniform, cocked hats, white cross-belts, etc., are disclosed, their carbines slung over their arms, their long cloaks thrown back. Behind the carabiniere stand some fishermen in red caps, dirty flannel shirts, and trousers rolled up to the knee; also a few ragged beggars.]

FIRST CARABINIERE

[as gate is opened]

Buon giorno!

[The two carabiniere enter briskly.]

MARIANO

[springing forward and closing gate, calling to crowd outside]

No, no!

FIRST CARABINIERE

Ceerchimo l'assassino Russo.

MARIANO

Dio mio! Non nell' Albergo Regina Margherita.

SECOND CARABINIERE

[coming to PIKE]

Avete visto un uomo scavalcare il muro?

MARIANO

[greatly excited]

It is the robber of Russia. They think he climb the wall, the assassin. The other carabiniere, they surround all yonder.

[Gesturing right and left.]

These two they search here. They ask you, please, have you see him climb the wall.

PIKE

No.

FIRST CARABINIERE

Ae quelcuno passato de qui?

MARIANO

He say has any one go across here?

PIKE

No.

FIRST CARABINIERE

[pointing under the car]

Chi costui?

MARIANO

He want to know who that is.

PIKE

The new chauffeur for the machine, from Naples.

MARIANO

E lo chauffeur di un illustre personaggio padrone dell' automobile.

FIRST CARABINIERE

[bowing to PIKE]

Grazia, Signore.

[To MARIANO.]

Cerchereremo nel giardino.

[Exit swiftly FIRST CARABINIERE to the right through pergola; SECOND to the left.]

VASILI

Is there a new eruption of Vesuvius?

PIKE

[meeting him and taking the rags]

No; it's an eruption of colonels trying to arrest a high-school professor. I've got him under your car there.

VASILI

[astounded]

What!

PIKE

I told them he's your new chauffeur.

VASILI

My friend, do you realize the penalty for protecting a criminal from arrest?

PIKE

We'll be proud of the risk.

[Speaks in an undertone to IVANOFF.]

This man owns the car. You can trust him the same as your own father.

PIKE

[quietly]

Look out, the Governor's staff is coming back.

MARIANO

[closing the gates and wiping his face]

Lazzaroni!

[At the same time FIRST CARABINIERE enters from right; SECOND CARABINIERE from left.]

SECOND CARABINIERE

Niente!

FIRST CARABINIERE

Niente la!

[The two CARABINIERE cross briskly to each other as they speak, and stand conferring.]

MARIANO

Grazia Dio! He has gone some other place!

PIKE

[very casually to VASILI]

You'll have to get a new off front tire, Doc. That one is pretty near gone. Better have Jim, here, put on the spare when he gets through.

[The CARABINIERE beckon to MARIANO and speak to him.]

VASILI

[seriously, stepping toward PIKE]

Do you know what you are asking me to do?

MARIANO

[addressing PIKE with an embarrassed bow]

The carabiniere with all excuses beg if you will command the chauffeur to step forth from the automobile.

PIKE

No, sir; I worked on that machine myself for three hours. He's got his hands full of nuts and screws and bolts half fastened. If he lays them down now to come out I don't know how long it'll take to get them back in place. We want to get this job finished.

[Continues with a plaintive uplift of voice.]

This is serious! Tell them to go on up Main Street with their Knights of Pythias parade, and come around some day when we haven't got our hands full.

MARIANO

[meekly]

I tell them—yes, sir.

[Turns and confers with the CARABINIERE.]

PIKE

It'll be your turn in a minute, Doc; be mighty careful what you say.

MARIANO

Because the chauffeur have been engaged only to-day and have just arrived, the carabiniere ask ten thousand pardons, but inquire how long he have been known to his employer.

[He bows to VASILI with embarrassment.]

MARIANO

[to VASILI]

Oh, if that is so!

PIKE

It is so; ain't it, Doc?