CORPSE FOR SALE - by Dario Fo - translated by Ed Emery

CORPSE FOR SALE

A one act farce

by Dario Fo

translated by Ed Emery

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For all queries regarding performance rights, please contact

Agenzia Tolnay : info [@] tolnayagency.it

For all queries regarding the text, please contact the translator at:

ed.emery [@]thefreeuniversity.net

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CORPSE FOR SALE

CHARACTERS:

Drunkard

Marco

Father

Maria

Customer

SCENE:

We are in a country inn. There are two tables; a few chairs; a counter at the back of the stage; a couple of barrels, and a lot of bottles. The strains of a lively polka emerge from a pianola. As the curtain rises, Marco and the Father are playing cards. At the other table sits a Drunkard.

DRUNKARD: But I tell you, I want to play...! So there...!

MARCO: I thought I told you to shut up...! We don't play with drunkards!

FATHER: Especially drunkards with no money...!

DRUNKARD: But I don't need money... because I'm going to win...

FATHER: Listen to him, eh! He's going to win...!

DRUNKARD: Yes, I would win. But then I'd give you back everything that I'd won... Let's have a little game, just to pass the time, eh...

MARCO: Ah, so that's the way you like it, eh? Well, I'm sorry, but since we believe in eternal youth, we don't like time passing... and that's the reason that we only play for money...

DRUNKARD: Only for money...? And for gold watches too, I bet...?

FATHER: Gold watches?

DRUNKARD: Yes, like this one, for example... or this one!

He pulls from his pocket two large pocket watches, each with a gold chain.

MARCO: Good lord!

FATHER: Let me see... They're wonderful... But where on earth did you get them?

DRUNKARD: This one even strikes the hours... It's a family memento.

MARCO: Why? Do you have a family?

DRUNKARD: No. It's a family memento of the family of the fellow who gave it to me... Of course, at the start, he wasn't too happy about parting with it... But then I insisted...

FATHER: It's a gem...! Listen, would you sell it...? Come on, how much would you ask?

DRUNKARD: Oh no...! One does not sell family mementos... We'll just have to play cards for it...

MARCO: Alright, then! If you really insist... Sit down...

FATHER: What are we going to play?

DRUNKARD: Let's play what you were playing before; I liked that game...!

FATHER: Poker? But look, it's a difficult game... It's a new game...

MARCO: It's a game that comes from America...

DRUNKARD: From America...? I've got a cousin in America... Think how happy he'd be if he knew I was playing his game...!

MARCO: Alright, then, we'll make your cousin in America happy... Who's dealing...? Shall I deal...? Will you deal...? Alright! So I deal!

He quickly begins dealing the cards.

DRUNKARD: Stop! My cousin in America always used to say that if you don't cut the pack, you'll get hitched to a blind man and marry a fool...!

FATHER: What did he mean by that...?

DRUNKARD: Ah, I don't know... All I know is that you have to cut the cards.

FATHER: You're suspicious, aren't you!! You're playing with gentlemen now, not thieves!

DRUNKARD: Well, as for that, I was in prison once, and I used to play with people who said exactly that... Three cards...

MARCO: What? That they were gentlemen?

DRUNKARD: No. They used to say that they were thieves... In other words, that they didn't cheat, like gentlemen do.

MARCO: Ha, ha... very amusing... Who's to call...? Me? You? Me? Alright, I'll call!

FATHER: No! I'll call: five to play...

DRUNKARD: This says ten...

He puts a watch in the middle of the table.

FATHER: Says ten what...?

DRUNKARD: Ten sovereigns... It's worth it, isn't it?

FATHER: Oh yes, it's worth it, but we're not used to such high stakes... We only play for cents...

DRUNKARD: Well, just for once, let's play for sovereigns... Anyway, like told you, when I win, I'll give it all back!

FATHER: Ah, alright then, if you're giving it all back...! Thirty sovereigns to play...!

He counts out his stake.

MARCO: Thirty sovereigns...? Have you gone mad...?! No, no... I'm sorry, but you know what I think...? If you want to continue playing like this, then... fifty sovereigns to play...!

He tips a handful of coins onto the table.

DRUNKARD: Ha, ha... I like this...! Fifty... This says fifty...

He tosses a second watch into the centre of the table.

FATHER: I see... [He pushes to the centre of the table all the cash that he has in front of him] Heavens, what a kitty...! Listen, a kitty like this deserves to be celebrated...

DRUNKARD: Yes, yes, we should have a party for it...

FATHER: Maria!

MARIA: [From off-stage] Yes, papa.

FATHER: Bring us a bottle of something special!

MARIA: [Entering] Why...? What's happening?

FATHER: We're going to drink a health to the finest kitty of the year...!

MARIA: Here we go again! Now you're even starting on drunkards! Aren't you ashamed of yourselves?!

She pours wine into the card players' glasses

MARCO: But this is not just any old drunkard... This is a romantic drunkard, full of memories... and family mementos.

FATHER: ...who's drinking to forget them, and... gambling to lose them... Here's to lost memories!

MARCO: Your health!

FATHER: Watch out, because this wine goes straight to your nose!

DRUNKARD: It's true! Heavens, it's got a real tickle to it!

FATHER: It tickles...! Ooh, it tickles...!

ALL: Atchoo! Atchoo! Atchooo!

They all sneeze violently, and blow out the candle which is on the table. The stage is plunged into darkness.

FATHER: Lights! Lights!

DRUNKARD: I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose...

MARIA: Wait a minute... I'll light it again...

She lights the candle.

DRUNKARD: At last! Just as well that he light's come back, because I'm scared of the dark... In fact, come to think of it, I'm scared of the light too!

FATHER: Right, let's show our cards...

MARCO: Me first... Three of a kind, kings...

FATHER: Well, I'm sorry for you, but the money's mine... Three of a kind, aces...

DRUNKARD: Well, I'm sorry for both of you, but it's mine... because I've got four of a kind... Jacks.

FATHER: Heavens, what good luck!

MARCO: Let's see; it's years since I last saw four of a kind, of jacks...

DRUNKARD: Right, take a good look... One, two, three and...

MARCO: But this isn't a jack. It's a king. You must have been seeing wrong...

FATHER: You must have made a mistake... It happened to me too, once...

DRUNKARD: But I was sure that...

MARIA: Hey... You should never play cards when you're drunk... Your eyesight plays tricks on you...

FATHER: [Winking] And not only your eyesight...!

DRUNKARD: Oh well...! The important thing is not to get upset over it... as my grandad always used to say. If you'll wait a moment, I'll go and get some more money, and we can start playing again.

FATHER: At your service...

MARCO and FATHER laugh to themselves, as the drunkard exits.

MARIA: Well, what a fine pair of heroes! I suppose you're really proud of yourselves. One of these days, you're going to get your come-uppance, though!

MARCO: Your daughter's in a bad mood, this evening...! What's the matter with her? Getting all worked up because we've had a bit of a laugh with a sucker!

MARIA: Precisely, because at least the people you've conned up till now have known how to play cards. Not like this idiot...

MARCO: Oh come on! Don't exaggerate! You talk as if we've conned a whole regiment... All in all, it's only been two or three passing customers...

FATHER: ...and if it hadn't been for them, with the pitiful amount of money we make out of selling wine, we'd have closed down a long time ago!

MARCO: And the trouble is, even those few customers are beginning to go AWOL... With this mania that everybody's got for going to work in France, the day will come when there'll be nobody left in this village... and then the only place that we'll find donkeys will be in the stables!

MARIA: And that will be a great day...!

FATHER: Ungrateful daughter...! Would you really like tosee your father being forced to play "Three Sevens" with real donkeys?

MARIA: No, that's not what I want... All I want is to live in a way that's a little bit less dishonest...

FATHER: Why...? What don't you like about it...? Don't you like me playing cards?

MARIA: No. What I don't like is that you have to involve me in your mania for gambling... to such an extent that you even want to force me to marry your cheating partner here... just because it's convenient for you to have him around...

FATHER: I've already told yu, I don't want to hear you saying things like that in front of your fiance... in front of the man whom I have asked to be your husband, only because I value him...

MARIA: ...as a cheat...

FATHER: As a cheat... Now look, that'll do...! I value him... because I value him... And also because I love you, and because... he would do absolutely anything... to get you as his wfe.

MARIA: Exactly... almost anything... Even to the extent of paying passing customers to pretend to be idiots, so that you can delude yourself that you've conned them...

FATHER: What do you mean, "pretend to be idiots"...? What are you saying?

MARIA: I'm speaking the truth. Because those two or three customers who every now and then hang around these parts could give you a lesson or two in how to cheat... Come on, Marco, tell the truth!

MARCO: Alright, it's true... We did a deal... I used to pay them, so that they cheated in reverse... But I only did it out of love for your daughter...

FATHER: No, no... It's not true... You, my best friend. Oh! How could you do it to me - letting me be conned by my own cusomers...! How shall I ever live this down!

MARCO: I'm sorry, but it was the only way to persuade you to take me on as a colleague, and therefore as your Maria's husband...

FATHER: ...and you've even had that drunkard cheating me... That's too much!

MARCO: No, I swear... not the drunkard, no...! This is the first time I've clapped eyes on him... This one's a genuine donkey...

MARIA: A drunken donkey... Well, there's satisfaction for you

FATHER: Please, Maria... don't mock your father in his hour of grief... A donkey for a father... The shame of it! And to think that I thought I was the best card cheat in the whole province!

MARCO: Now, look, there's no need to go getting all upset... Leaving aside the fact that you're still a pretty respectable card cheat, there's nothing to say that one of these days we won't find a real donkey walking in here... and then who knows... Don't forget that tomorrow is market day...

MARIA: Yes, papa... Don't do yourself down... And I'm sorry if I was a bit bad-tempered a while back... You'll see, your day will come... And I promise that from now on, I won't complain any more...

FATHER: No, no... There's no point trying to console me. I gave up hope long ago... It's been years that I've been waiting for a Grade One simpleton loaded with money to walk through that door...

Precisely at this moment, a CUSTOMER enters

FATHER, MARIA AND MARCO: The Simpleton!

CUSTOMER: I beg your pardon?

MARIA: I mean... Simply charming... Make yourself at home... What can we do for you

CUSTOMER: Do you have a room for the night?

FATHER: No. No rooms. Only drinking and gambling.

CUSTOMER: Gambling?

MARIA [Correcting her father] My father means that this is not a boarding house, just an inn...

CUSTOMER: Oh lord...! I've been travelling all day, and now it looks as if I'm going to have to sleep out under the stars... What kind of town is this, where you can't even get a place to sleep? Whose idea was it for me to come here...!

MARCO: Precisely, whose idea was it...? I mean... What brings you to these parts...

CUSTOMER: Well, if it had been up to me, I certainly wouldn't have come... But, you see, my father is a cattle dealer, and he's sent me to this wretched town for the market tomorrow, to see if I can't buy up a herd or two...

FATHER: A herd or two...?

CUSTOMER: Yes, a hundred head of cattle, that's all...

MARCO: That's all...!! And all paid for in cash, I presume...?

As the dialogue continues, the three of them busy themselves serving the CUSTOMER. They give him a chair at the table. They serve up wine and switch on the fan.

CUSTOMER: Yes, in cash, obviously... You know how untrusting and ignorant these cattle-breeders are... If they don't see the king's head, they won't budge...

MARIA: And then they say that the peasants round these parts are anarchists...!

FATHER: Of course they're anarchists...! Since all they want is the king's head...!

Everyone laughs.

CUSTOMER: Ah, you're really nice people... What a shame I can't stay longer in your company... but I suppose I'll have to get on my way... They tell me that there's a monastery near here... Maybe they'll have a bed for the night...

MARCO: Ah, but it's not exactly close... It'll take you a good hour's walking... And if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't risk it... given that, if I understand you aright, you are carrying cash on you... with all the bandits there are round these parts...

CUSTOMER: Bandits?

MARCO: Certainly... In fact, only today, I heard that Magnaccio has been seen again round these parts... And Magnaccio is no joke... He's killed more people on the roads round here than Napoleon killed fleas on his jacket!

CUSTOMER: Ah, yes... I've heard of this Magnaccio... But then, what else can I do...? It's all the fault of this wretched money...

So saying, he pulls out a wad of banknotes. The two swindlers' eyes almost pop out of their heads.

FATHER: Ackers...! Look at all those lovely ackers...!

He reaches his hand out to touch them, but MARCO restrains him.

MARCO: I've never seen so much money at one time in all my life...!

MARIA: Perhaps we could help him out a bit... After all, we can't let him go wandering around and run the risk of having all that money lifted off him by the first comer, can we...

FATHER: Correct. Otherwise, how are we going to get a look in...? I mean... otherwise, where is the brotherhood of man... if one does not try to provide shelter for a poor, helpless traveller... because you are defenceless, aren't you?

CUSTOMER: What?

FATHER: Yes.. I mean, you're not carrying a gun, are you...?

CUSTOMER: No...

FATHER: That's just as well...

CUSTOMER: Why just as well?

MARIA: Because... if you weren't defenceless, then how could we defend you...?

Everyone laughs.

CUSTOMER: Ha, ha... I never thought I'd find such nice people around these parts...! If you'll allow me, I'd like to buy you all a drink...!

FATHER: I won't hear of it...! You are our guest, and the drinks are on me... [He goes over to the counter] This is a wine to make your head spin... It'll take something to stop it spinning...

MARCO: Why don't we give the cards a whirl, then...?

MARIA: Yes, that's an idea. If we give the cards a spin, in the opposite direction to the way your head's spinning... then it'll all balance out!

CUSTOMER: Ha, ha... I've never heard that before. I don't really know too much about cards... But I'm going to have to try this new anti-drunk cure.

FATHER: Yes, yes, try it... Afterwards it'll help you feel... "lighter"... Right. What are we going to play? Poker...? Do you know how to play...?

CUSTOMER: I played it once... But, to tell the truth, I don't really remember it too well...

MARIA: Don't worry... You'll see: after you've played these two, you'll remember it all right...

DRUNKARD: [Entering] Stop! Everyone stop...! There... I knew that you wouldn't wait for me... And I've gone to such trouble to get more money...

CUSTOMER: Who's that?

MARIA: Oh nothing, just a drunk...!

FATHER: A trouble-maker. I'll get rid of him... ... [Turning to the Drunkard] Aren't you ashamed to be making all this racket...? Come on, off with you, scram!

MARCO: What kind of world are we living in...! Nowadays we even get drunkards trying to come into pubs... Where's it's ever going to end!

DRUNKARD: Hey...! Let's not start bandying insults... I won't have people talking ill of drunkards. Leaving aside the fact that you should always distinguish between good drunks and bad drunks...

MARIA: Why? Are you a good drunk?

DRUNKARD: Yes... Very good... And I drink precisely with the intention of becoming good... I don't even particularly like wine... But since when I don't drink, I turn nasty... and since nasty people always end up harming their neighbours...

FATHER: So, you drink for your neighbour?! A saint! A holy man! [He kisses his brow] That's why, in the Protestant countries, they put drunkards in prison... For fear that they become saints...!

MARCO: Anyway, Mr Saint, you'd best clear off, because we've got some business to do here...

DRUNKARD: What do you mean...? You want to play without me? So now what am I supposed to do with all this money that I've been out and got...?

He begins pulling it out of his pocket.

MARIA: Buy yourself some more wine... and then go in search of sanctification...

But then, at the sight of so much money, they are all struck speechless. Even MARIA stops in mid-sentence.

DRUNKARD: No, I really can't drink any more... My head's already spinning too much.

CUSTOMER: If his head's spinning, then you're really going to have to let him play... and with a few rounds of cards, maybe he'll get over it...

FATHER: Alright, let's play a game or two... Sit yourself down...

DRUNKARD: How kind you are... Now, what are we going to play? Let's play the game of that cousin of mine in America... and then he'll be so happy... in America... that we're playing his game...

MARCO: OK, let's play poker... Right, who's going to deal? Shall I deal...? Shall he deal...? Will you deal...? Alright, I'll deal... Do you want to cut the pack? You trust me...? You trust me... Alright... we trust each other...

DRUNKARD: No, I don't trust you... [He cuts the pack] ... More to the point, how much are we playing for?

CUSTOMER: I say that we shouldn't go above ten cents a time...

FATHER: Correct... We're only playing to pass time, not to skin each other alive, after all...

MARCO: Anyway, only donkeys skin each other alive... And here, as donkeys go... Oh what a shame! It looks as if we haven't got enough small change... We'll just have to play with sovereigns...

MARIA: Either sovereigns, or beans... If you prefer, I've got a bag of beans out the back...

DRUNKARD: Oh no, not beans... Beans make me fart... I tell you what, let's do this.. Let's play with sovereigns, and pretend they're cents...

CUSTOMER: Yes, let's pretend...! Anyway, we're only playing to pass the time...

In the meantime, the cards have been dealt.

FATHER: Anyway, that means that if anyone happens to get skinned like a donkey... he can always have the beans... and donkeys like beans...

Everyone laughs. The drunkard breaks into a prolonged guffaw. His right foot seems to be suffering from St Vitus' dance. It leaps around. The drunkard glares at his foot, and then starts slapping it.

DRUNKARD: What are you laughing at!? What are you laughing at?!

His foot instantly stops moving around.

MARCO: Who's to call...? Me to call...? Him to call...? Alright, I'll call... I'll lay: ten. Let's say ten cents to play...

CUSTOMER: Thirty. I say thirty cents...

FATHER: Heavens...! And that's the one who just wanted to play for small change! Just as well that we're not playing for beans, because otherwise, instead of pockets, we'd need buckets to carry them around... I'll see you thirty!

DRUNKARD: Since I'm a bit drunk, and I'm seeing double... instead of thirty... I say sixty... Ha, ha... Sixty to play. Ha, ha...

He laughs, and glares at his foot. This time his foot does not move.

FATHER: Mamma mia! What a kitty! If I could paint, I'd do a painting of it... and then I'd frame it and hang it over my bed... [So saying, He adds his own stake] ... Maria!

MARIA: [Arriving with a tray] Yes, papa, I heard you... We must celebrate the finest kitty of the year...

FATHER: You're a treasure... always on the ball...

DRUNKARD: [To the Customer] Watch out, this wine tickles...!

CUSTOMER: Yes, yes, it really does tickle!

MARCO: Oh, how it tickles!

FATHER: It tickles, it tickles...! Atchooo...!

The DRUNKARD swiftly moves the candle out of the way, and the sneeze misses its target.

DRUNKARD: Ha, ha, ha... The sneeze missed!

MARCO: It tickles, it tickles...! Atchooo! Atchooo!

Once again, the DRUNKARD succeeds in shifting the candlestick. Then the customer also sneezes. A real sneezing battle ensues. But in the end, MARIA blows the candle out, by pretending to sneeze.

DRUNKARD: Hey, no, Miss! If you're going to start sneezing too, when you haven't even been drinking, it doesn't count...!

MARIA: Well, sneezing is contagious... Ouch...! Who pinched me?

DRUNKARD: It was me... I felt like doing a bit of tickling too... It's contagious, you know...

THE STAGE IS LIT UP AGAIN, AS THE CUSTOMER LIGHTS A MATCH.

MARIA: Oh yes...? Well, see how this one tickles, then...

She aims a blow at the DRUNKARD, but it misses him, because he ducks. Instead she hits the customer. The match goes out, and in the half-light, we see a certain re-arranging of the cards going on. Finally the DRUNKARD lights the candle again.

DRUNKARD: At last! Just as well that we've got some light again, because I'm scared of the dark...!

FATHER: So you've already told us... Anyway, as they say, after the storm-clouds comes the sun... So, let's show our cards, and... may the best man win!

MARCO: And I think that this time I'm the winner... Three of a kind, of queens!

CUSTOMER: I'm sorry, but you'd better have a little drink to console yourself... because I've got four of a kind, of jacks!

FATHER: What good luck!

MARIA: Heavens! Four of a kind, of jacks? Let me see. It's years since I've seen one of them...!

CUSTOMER:Right, take a good look. One, two, three and...

MARCO: Your eyesight must be playing tricks on you... It happened to me too, one time...

DRUNKARD: Hmm! There's certainly a lot of mistakes around tonight...!

CUSTOMER: But I was sure...

DRUNKARD: Well, you should never gamble when you've been drinking... Your eyesight can play strange tricks on you.

MARIA: And not only your eyesight...

FATHER: Anyway, cheer up... Even if you really had had four of a kind, you would still have lost: I've got a royal flush, of diamonds... Look, here...

He shows his cards.

CUSTOMER: What do you mean? That's not a ten of diamonds, it's a nine of hearts...

DRUNKARD: Another mistake! What a lot we've had tonight...

FATHER: But I was sure...

DRUNKARD: It happened to me one time, too... Anyway, you should never gamble when you've been drinking... Your eyesight can play tricks on you...

MARIA: [Giving the Drunkard a meaningful look]

DRUNKARD: [Turning to Marco] Anyway, you take the kitty, with your three queens... because I've... Ive only got three tens! [He shows his hand] ... Heavens... I was mistaken!! It's not three of a kind, of tens, but four of a kind!!!

CUSTOMER: It really is - four of a kind...!

DRUNKARD: But I was sure... Well, it's no use... when you drink... And now it looks as if I've won the whole bank... Ha, ha! [He laughs. His foot starts leaping around. He slaps it down] Excuse my foot.

MARIA: Amazing, how your eyes can play tricks on you...!

DRUNKARD: And not only your eyes!

HE RAKES IN THE MONEY.

FATHER: Maria, take this damned wine away. And the candles! Get the hurricane lamp!

MARIA: You mean the one that can't be blown out by sneezes, papa?

DRUNKARD: You'd better bring me a lamp, too... because I've just about finished... I've played my fill, and now I'm going

HE MAKES AS IF TO GET UP.

FATHER: [Restraining him] Hey, slow down a bit... The player who wins can't leave the table until...

DRUNKARD: Until he loses...?

FATHER: Indeed...! No... I mean... until the losers say that they've had enough...

MARCO: That's the rule...

CUSTOMER: Well, if that's the way it is, then I too can say that I've had enough...

FATHER: Oh no, you can't!

CUSTOMER: What do you mean, I can't...? I've lost too!

FATHER: Yes, but you haven't yet lost everything!

MARCO: That's the rules!

DRUNKARD: Well, if that's the rules, then I'll tell you what we'll do... I'll let the young lady play in my place... and I'll leav her my stake, lock, stock and barrel... She can play for me... If she wins, she wins. And if not... amen... I've really got to go and take a little walk... My head's bursting in here...

FAHER: Alright... If that's the way you want it...!

MARIA: [All tenderness, going up to the Drunkard] And if I manage to lose everything, you won't take it badly?

DRUNKARD: Well, why should I? Only bad people take things badly... and this evening, I've had such a good drink... that I feel as if I'm in heaven... [He heads to the back of the stage, wobbling alarmingly. Instead of going up the stairs, he climbs up the piano] Goodness, how steep are the steps to heaven! Goodnight, brothers!

HE EXITS.

MARIA: What a funny man! He's mad, but he's nice...

MARCO: Right, now, what are we going to play?

FATHER: Sit down, Maria. It's your turn to deal.

CUSTOMER: Listen, I'm quite happy to carry on, but I'd rather change games...

FATHER: Why? Don't you like poker?

CUSTOMER: Yes, but I prefer it played Marseilles- style...

MARIA: Marseilles poker?

MARCO: I've never heard of it!

CUSTOMER: It's like normal poker... It's just got a few extra rules, which there's no point in my explaining. I'll explain them to you as we go along... You'll pick it up quickly enough...

FATHER: Is it played with five cards, like normal poker?

CUSTOMER: Yes. I told you, it's almost the same...

MARCO: Ah, alright then... if it's almost the same... Come on, Maria, deal the cards...

CUSTOMER: Thirty to play...

FATHER: I'll see you.

MARCO: I'll see you.

MARIA: I'll see you.

CUSTOMER: Two cards.

FATHER: This is a really good wine... I could drink whole goblets of it... Three...

MARIA: Three goblets...?

SHE HANDS OVER THREE CARDS SELECTED FROM THE PACK.

MARCO: Heavens! I'm terribly hungry... Tell me, Maria, you wouldn't happen to have any of that ace ham of yours, would you?

MARIA: Ace ham of what...?

MARCO: You know, that ham that we keep for the club...

MARIA: Ham ace of clubs...? No, I haven't got any... But I've got a nice spade of veal from last night's supper...

MARCO: Alright, give me a spade...

MARIA hands over three spade cards, slyly showing them to the audience.

CUSTOMER: All this talk about food is making me hungry too... You wouldn't happen to have any soup with noodles, would you?

MARIA: [Absent-mindedly] No, we've only got double-fours soup.

CUSTOMER: Double fours...?

FATHER: Maria! What are you saying...? Pay attention to the game... Another thirty to play...

MARCO: Fifty.

MARIA: I'll see you.

CUSTOMER: I'll see you... [The Father puts in his money, likewise] Who's going to call first?

MARCO: Am I calling...? Yes, I'm calling. There you go: four of a kind, all aces...!

FATHER: A royal flush of goblets...

MARIA: Four of a kind, kings...

CUSTOMER: Stop, everyone! The money's mine...

FATHER: What do you mean, it's yours...? You haven't even got one card the same as another.

CUSTOMER: Precisely. This is one of the things about Marseilles poker. It's called Cock-aDoodle-Doo... "Cock-a- Doodle-Doo, all my cards are different". I told you that there were one or two rules to learn. Anyway, now that you've learnt it, we can carry on... don't you think?

MARCO: [Threateningly] Ah! So we can continue!

FATHER: [In a similar tone] Yes, we can continue... but maybe it's going to be another game... Haven't you ever heard of "Dicing wih Death"?

So saying, he takes off his jacket.

CUSTOMER: [Doing likewise, while Maria rushes to move the glasses out of the way] Ah, now I see. This must be some kind of shirt-sleeves game. OK, I'm happy to play...

But suddenly MARCO and the FATHER back off. In the process of taking off his jacket, the CUSTOMER has revealed three pistols stuck into his belt.

FATHER: I thought you said you weren't armed?

MARCO: What kind of joke is this?

CUSTOMER: Oh, don't worry! I promise you,I'd forgotten all about them. It must have been my thoughtful mother who put them there. You know, I've got a very delicate stomach... it gets upset when the wind blows... and when it gets other kinds of blowstoo... and she, poor dear, is convinced that the best way to keep your tummy warm is to have three or four pistols in your belt, instead of the usual folded sheets of newspaper... Anyway, if you like, we can ply "Dicing with Death"... Or would you prefer "Cock-a-Doodle-Doo", without the death?

FATHER: No, no... Obviously, we prefer Cock-a-Doodle- Doo...

MARCO: Yes, yes. Cock-a-Doodle-Doo, without death... And, if possible, without guns either.

MARIA: Absolutely! It's not very gentlemanly to play with guns in your belt...

CUSTOMER: Well, if it makes you feel better... [He takes his guns out, and lays them on the table, one pointing at each of the players] ...Now, who's dealing? Shall I deal? Will you deal? Alright... I'll deal.

MARCO: Yes, you deal...

They all sit there, frozen, and terrified, staring down the barrels of the guns pointing in their direction.

CUSTOMER: Now then, enough of this gloom... Cheer up!

He fires one of his guns at the pianola, which begins to play a crazy tune. From this moment, the card game is played out in panomime. The cards are dealt at a crazy pace, and stakes are paid up with almost dance-like gestures. Every time that MARIA reaches out for her money, the CUSTOMER gets up and kisses her hand. There is a whirlwind of slapping people's backs, drinking their health and laughing. The three partners in crime take advantage of the confusion in order to pass each other cards. Then, finally, the pianola stops playing. This is the great moment. The kitty is enormous. The players prepare to reveal their cards.

MARIA: Cock-a-Doodle-Doo!

FATHER: Cock-a-Doodle-Doo!

MARCO: Cock-a-Doodle-Doo!

CUSTOMER: Two kings...

There is a moment of silence.

FATHER: [Reaching out his hands, to take the money] This time the money's ours!

CUSTOMER: Why?

MARCO: We said Cock-a-Doodle-Doo!

CUSTOMER: Yes, but the rules of Marseilles poker state clearly that Cock-a-Doodle-Doo can only be said once. Not twice... So that means that my two kings win me the money! Ha, ha, ha...!

For a moment, the three of them freeze. Then they burst into hysterical laughter, as the CUSTOMER throws his arms around the pile of money. This position is advantageous to MARCO and the FATHER, who seize the moment and grab his pistols. But one of the guns remains on the table. The CUSTOMER grabs it. The three of them now find themselves in an embarrassing position.

MARIA: [She retreats backwards, with a scream] Noooo! Oh God, they're going to kill each other!

She backs into the pianola, which begins to play again. She is frightened by the sound, and leaps into the arms of theCUSTOMER, who holds her in a dance position.

CUSTOMER: A pleasure... May I have this dance, miss?

Here starts a fresh, lunatic pantomime, with the two of them dancing, an the other two being obliged to take cover, hide, and pop out again as the dancers take up different positions. The two men do the splits and sundry pirouettes, in a strange kind of counterpoint to the dance taking place. Finally, they end up dancing arm in arm, in order to provide their enemies with less of a target. To cap it all, enter the DRUNKARD, who is momentarily amazed by what he sees. Then he joins in the dance and in euphoric mood he leaps onto the table. The CUSTOMER is caught unawares, and loses his balance. MARIA takes advantage of this fact, gives him a leg-up, and sends him flying, to bang his head against the pianola, which instantly stops playing.

MARIA: [Picking up his gun from the floor] So, now the music is going to change...

DRUNKARD: Why change the music? That first music was so nice... Oh, will you look at them...! Everyone with a gun... How nice... I've got one, too. I've got my pistol...! [He pulls out of his pocket a pipe, and holds it as if it was a gun] And what are we going to do now?

FATHER: Now we're going to carry on playing Cock-a- Doodle-Doo... But this time it's going to be us making up the rules...

DRUNKARD: Cock-a-Doodle-Doo...? What's that? A new game? A game with guns...? Can I play too...? Come on, how is it played? Who shoots first?

CUSTOMER: [Pulling out another gun] Maybe I'll shoot first...

At this point, a shot is fired. Both MARCO and the FATHER fall to the floor. After a second or two, the CUSTOMER also falls to the floor, banging his head against the pianola, which this time begins to play a funeral march.

DRUNKARD: Hey, no... That doesn't count... You can't go shooting before you've counted... Come on, let's start again...

MARIA: Let's not play games... There are two dead bodies too many here... There was only one shot... Dad, Dad... [She hurls herself on her father's body] Thank goodness, his heart's still beating. Come on, Dad, wake up... You're not dead.

FATHER: [Barely lifting his head] No, no... You're just saying that to cheer me up... But I know that I am dead... Don't you think I heard that shot?

MARIA: Stop it, Dad... I tell you, there was only one shot, and all three of you can't be dead...

MARCO: [Raising his head] Did you say only one shot...? Well then, you must be the one who's dead, because I am alive... Just as well! Maria, may I offer you my most heartfelt condolences. Poor Arthur. He was such a good man. I shall miss him...

Meantime theDRUNKARD has gone over to the body of the CUSTOMER, and starts to shake him.

DRUNKARD: Come on, lad, cheer up. We've found the corpse... Get up now, and we'll start again... But this time, we count first, eh? [The Customer falls back to the floor] Hey! But this one really is dead...

MARIA: We've killed him...

FATHER: Who killed him?

MARCO: Ah...! Not me, that's for sure... It must have been you, or your daughter...

MARIA: Rat! Perjurer! First you shoot, and then you pretend to be dead so as to throw the blame onto us... And you wanted to marry me off to him, father!

FATHER: Perjurer! Come on! Swear on all that you hold most dear that it wasn't you that did away with the dead man!

MARCO: May I be struck dead... if the dead man... Just a minute. Who said that it had to be one of us three who killed him? [Pointing to the Drunkard] He was here too, when the shot was fired.

FATHER: That's true! I remember him saying: "Who's going to shoot first?"

MARIA: Don't be stupid... He could hardly have shot him with his pipe...

DRUNKARD: No... I could hardly have shot him with my pipe...

MARCO: When a person is drunk, there is no knowing what they might do... You have no idea what these drunks can get up to when they've had one too many... They're capable of anything...

FATHER: Even shooting with a pipe, like he did.

DRUNKARD: Well, to tell the truth, I can't say that I noticed my pipe shooting...

MARIA: Poor thing... But I tell you, pipes can play funny tricks sometimes...

MARCO: True...! They're dangerous devices... I remember an uncle of mine who, with just one pipeful, managed to kill five cows and a donkey...

FATHER: With one pipeful?

MARCO: Yes... Naturally, he was drunk at the time, and he went to smoke his pipe in the hayloft over the stables... One pipeload misplaced and... fzzz... all of them burnt to a frazzle, himself included...

MARIA: Yes, I've heard that story too. It was at the time when they banned all drunkards in the village from having pipes without a licence...

FATHER: Speaking of which... Have you got a licence for your pipe...?

DRUNKARD: [With the air of a little boy telling a lie] Yes I have, but it's run out.

FATHER: Well, you're going to have trouble with the police... You'd be better off saying that it was you who killed him, with a pistol... Take mine...

DRUNKARD: Thank you... You're too kind.

MARCO: You can always say that it went off by mistake...

DRUNKARD: How kind you are... helping me like this... Well, all that remains now is for me to go to the police and tell them what happened...

FATHER: Yes, yes, but you'd better go at once...

MARCO: And take it from me... if you want to avoid trouble, don't say a word about your pipe...

DRUNKARD: No, no... I won't say a word... I'll say that I was up in a haystack.I was smoking my pistol, and then a shot went off... and I killed three cows and a donkey... The deceased was under the donkey, and died of suffocation... How kind you are...

He exits. The othert hree dive onto the CUSTOMER, to look for his money.

FATHER: Hands off... We're going to split it three ways...

MARCO: Why three ways?

MARIA: Because, until proven otherwise, I was there with a gun too... Hey, what's this? [She unfolds a sheet of paper and reads] "Wanted, for 30 murders and armed robbery - Dead or Alive - the bandit Pietro Gambone, also known as Magnaccio. 1,000 gold sovereigns reward." Oh, God!

MARCO: What's the matter?

MARIA: Look at the photograph!

FATHER: [Comparing the photo with the dead man's face] It's him! We've killed Magnaccio!

MARCO: Not so much of the "we've" killed Magnaccio. You yourself said that it was me who shot him... So the corpse is mine, and the thousand sovereigns are mine too...

FATHER: That's what you think! Hands off that corpse, or you die!

He points his gun at him, as MARCO is loading the corpse onto his back.

MARCO: No, let's not start playing games. [He moves the corpse round ike a shield in front of him] You wouldn't want to kill the future husband of your only daughter... for a corpse that's not even one of the family...!

He raises the dead man's hands into a postion of surrender.

MARIA: Don't let yourself be sweet-talked, Dad. Kill him... With a corpse like that in my dowry, I shall find all the husbands you like.

FATHER: Who says that I'm going to be giving him to you as a dowry...? To see him just frittered away by the first dowry-hunter you find...

MARCO: Well said, Arthur... That's what I call intelligent thinking... [He makes the corpse gesticulate, by moving it from behind] If you'll put down your gun for a minute... I'm going to make you a straight-forward and sensible suggestion.

FATHER: Let's hear this suggestion...

MARCO: [Still moving the corpse's arms, as if it was a marionette] Let's play cards to decide: if I win, you give me your daughter as my wife, and you come and live with us... If you win, I marry your daughter, and we come and live with you... Either way, we keep the corpse in the family...

MARIA: And supposing I win...?

FATHER: You...?! No, you're not playing... This is a man's game. Right-ho, Marco, deal the cards, an let's sit this fellow down here... [He grabs the corpse by the collar of its jacket, and hauls it up onto a chair] We'll have a nice little game of "Three Sevens" with the corpse...

MARIA: Ha, ha... Now that I think of it... do you realise you're counting your corpse before it's even hatched...?

MARCO: What do you mean?

MARIA: You're forgetting the drunkard... He's already down with the police inspector, telling him that the corpse is his...

FATHER: God... you're right, and to think that it was us that gave it to him... with your wonderful idea of pipes that shoot...

Pointing at MARCO.

MARCO: [Replying in similar tone] And with pipe licences!

FATHER: I tell you, it's enough to make you spit in your own face!

DRUNKARD: [Re-appearing at the door] Spitting in people's faces? What is this, a new game? A spitting game? Ah, that's a good idea for a game... Can I play, can I play...? But this time, let's count first, eh?

MARIA: Just a moment... what about the police inspector?

DRUNKARD: Which police inspector?

MARCO: What do you mean? Didn't you go to the police station?

DRUNKARD: [Bursting into tears]There, I knew you'd start shouting at me! But... I was shy... The Inspector's such a nervous fellow that if somebody goes and tells him that he's killed someone... then he gets even more nervous... and that makes me nervous too... ever so nervous... Oh, goodness, how nervous that Inspector gets... Really nervous...

FATHER: What? What? ... So nobody knows about the corpse, yet?

DRUNKARD: No, nobody... But please... just wait until tomorrow... because today I feel so good...

MARCO: No... Nobody's going to start telling you off... You're a saint... Come, brother.

He kisses him on the forehead.

FATHER: Blessed are the poor in spirit... and blessed is the wine that has made you so blesseded...

He embraces him.

MARIA: Blessed blesseded!

DRUNKARD: How kind you all are. Do you really forgive me?

FATHER: Forgive you? It is you who should be forgiving us. You can't imagine how bad we felt for leaving you to go all alone and undefended to give yourself up... But now that you have returned, prodigal son... we shall make amends at once... Of course we accept our full guilt for the crime that has been committed...

DRUNKARD: You? No, I couldn't... The corpse is mine, and I'll take my punishment like a man...

MARCO: No... We'll take on the corpse...

DRUNKARD: And the punishment too?

FATHER: There will be no punishment, my son... Rather, honesty will be its own reward, the finest reward of our lives...

DRUNKARD: No, no, I can't... If I were to accept, it would be bad of me... and since I always want to be good...

MARCO: If you carry on like this, I'm going to start turning bad myself, seriously bad!

He grabs him by the coat collar. The DRUNKARD reacts by backing up like a cat threatened by a dog. He hisses and makes as if to claw MARCO's face. MARCO arco lets go his prey and retreats, terrified.

MARIA: Now then, let's not go over the top... [Pointing to the corpse] Weren't you all supposed to be playing cards for him?

FATHER: [Who immediately grasps what she is getting at] Maria, you are a wonderful girl. Come here, brother, sit down... and play cards with us... That will decide what is to be...

MARCO: Well said... We'll settle this business of the corpse over the game that we were playing when you arrived...

DRUNKARD: Oh yes, I'm game... Who's going to start?

FATHER: Go ahead, you can start...

DRUNKARD: [Spitting in the faces of Marco and the Father] Spit... spit! Ha, ha, I like this spitting game...!

MARIA: But what's going on? Have you gone mad?

DRUNKARD: Why? When I came in, weren't you playing at spitting in each other's faces?

MARCO: Stupid idiot! If you're not careful, I'll start playing at pulling your head off...!

He goes as if to strike him, but the DRUNKARD once again goes into his "angry cat" posture, hissing and showing his teeth.

FATHER: Calm down, calm down...!

DRUNKARD: I won... the corpse is mine...

MARIA: Alright... you won... But, if you'll allow me, I'd like to speak with you alone...

MARCO: What do you mean, "he's won"? Have you gone daft?

FATHER: You're the one who's gone daft! Haven't you tumbled it? She's seeing to it... Come on, let's leave them for a moment.

The two of them exit, and the girl breaks into bitter sobbing.

MARIA: I knew it... I knew it was going to end up like this... Now I'll have no choice but to go and put myself in a nunnery...

DRUNKARD: But why are you crying, Miss? What as happened to you? Why must you go to a nunnery?

The DRUNKARD grabs the corpse by its coat collar and hangs it up by its collar from the hatstand. The corpse slips down inside its jacket, and its arms rise up sideways, making it look like a scarecrow. This is the beginning of a competition between the drunkard, trying to get it to stay upright, and the corpse, which keeps retiring into its jacket like a snail into its shell.

MARIA: [Still sobbing] You see, it was my very last hope...

DRUNKARD: What was your very last hope...?

MARIA: That corpse... Without it, I'm never going to be able to marry...

DRUNKARD: You mean you were going to marry this corpse... that keeps trying to hide from me?

MARIA: Yes. I mean, no... You see, that young man over there... he's my fiancé, and he's an undertaker by trade...

The DRUNKARD refuses to be beaten by the corpse. He takes an umbrella from the hatstand, opens it, and succeeds in getting the corpse to hold theh andle, so that the umbrella functions as a parachute and the corpse thereby remains upright.

DRUNKARD: [Pleased with himself, taking a little bow, like a conjuror at the end of a successful trick] Hey presto...! Now, stay there. What were you saying? Your fiancé is an undertaker? Oh, my goodness! An undertaker...

MARIA: I know, it's not very romantic job... But when I first met him, he was the best undertaker for miles around... People even came from outside the province so that they could be buried by him... He had such a delicate touch with his shovel...

DRUNKARD: And now he no longer has a delicate touch?

MARIA: No, he's still got it... It's just that he's a bit out of training, if you like...

DRUNKARD: What do you mean?

MARIA: Well, this is the problem... In this wretched village, nobody has died for more than ten months... and so the Council has decided to close the cemetery, and my poor fiancé is going to be sacked...

DRUNKARD: I see, for lack of customers... Heavens, these are terrible times: now even cemeteries are going bust!

MARIA: Unfortunately, my father would never let me marry someone who's unemployed...

DRUNKARD: He's quite right, really. It's bad enough having to hand your daughter over to an undertaker... But to give her to an unemployed undertaker is going too far...! Hasn't he thought of getting a different job?

MARIA: He did. He worked as a butcher for a while. But he was so much into the habit, that every time he killed an animal, he immediately went and buried it. He went bust within the month...

DRUNKARD: That's what I call really getting into a habit...

MARIA: So now you see why that corpse was our salvation. If it had been his, he could have buried it... the Council would have renewed his contract, and re-opened the cemetery... and then we could have got married.

DRUNKARD: [Moved to tears] In the little chapel in the cemetery... with flowers on all the graves...

MARCO and the FATHER now return, and are bemused when they see this tearful scene.

FATHER: What's happened...?

MARCO: Why are you crying?

DRUNKARD: Listen, undertaker, you're going to have to forgive me, but I didn't realise... [He unhooks the corpse fom the hatstand, and relieves it of its umbrella] Take your corpse, with my very best regards. It's my wedding present to you... And now, excuse me if I have to leave... but I feel so good that if I stay here any longer, I'm going to end up killing your father, so as to give him as dowry for his daughter!

He grabs a gun from the table, and points it.

FATHER: Thank you! But there's no need to put yourself out...

He takes the gun from his hand.

MARIA: Aaah! Thank you, thank you ever so much...

MARCO: Thank you, that's a really nice present...

DRUNKARD: Don't mention it. What's a corpse or two between friends... And anyway, what better person to give a corpse to than an undertaker!

So saying, he exits.

MARCO: I didn't understand all that. What's he getting at with all this undertaker business?

FATHER: It seems that he's referring to you... It must have been something thought up by my Maria...

MARCO: Anyway, I don't like it...

MARIA: But you will like the reward that you're going to get!

FATHER: What do you mean, "that you're going to get"? That we're going to get, you mean! Until proven otherwise, it was you who persuaded him to give up his corpse...

MARCO: And I am going to set her up a nice little house!

FATHER: In which I too shall come and live, as agreed!

MARCO: Oh no, my friend! That was only the agreement if you had won him at cards! Bu since he's now been given to me...!

MARIA: You hear that, papa...? A right rogue you wanted to marry me off to...! Out! Get out of here...!I get the man to give him the corpse, and then he goes and throws you out!

FATHER: Rat! Thief... I'm breaking off the engagement! [He helps him to hoist the corpse onto his back] Get along with you! And you'd better take this too. It's yours!

MARIA hands MARCO an envelope.

MARCO: What's that?

MARIA: I don't have the first idea... It fell out of his jacket... If the corpse is yours, then this must be yours too.

MARCO, who has so far succeeded in hauling the corpse up as far as the little dance floor, is curious. He lays the CORPSE out lengthways on the pianola.

FATHER: [Picking up the letter, and opening it] Ha, ha... This is splendid... This is really good! Ha, ha... Oh god! It's enough to make you die... I've never heard anything so funny in all my life...

MARCO: What is it? [He grabs the letter out of his hand] No... It's not true! [He bursts out in a fit of desperate crying] I don't want to die!

MARIA: [Reading the letter] "To the lucky executioner who, by killing me, will have the right to a reward of over a thousand sovereigns... May I offer my compliments, and my most heartfelt condolences... since, with that money, he will be able to pay himself a magnificent funeral. He should know that my two brothers, Antonio and Gilberto, will not permit even a day to pass after my death, before seeking their revenge. May Death be with you. Goodbye, till we meet in heaven... Yours, Pietro Gambone, also known as Magnaccio." Ha, ha... It's enough to make you die laughing! The undertaker who gets himself buried... That's too much... too much! And all because he accepted a corpse that was not his... Ha, ha...

MARCO: [Making an aggressive comeback] You said it! A corpse that is not mine! But it is ours!

He turns the handle of the pianola, and the CORPSE rises up as if by a system of gears, until it is sitting upright.

FATHER: Will you listen to him...! First of all, when the corpse was worth a lot of money, it was only his. Now that it's become too hot to handle... he wants to run it as a co-op...

MARCO: Alright, if you're so clever, listen. When the police inspector comes, what proof have you got that it was me who killed him? And also, don't forget that the responsibility for anything that happens in a public place always lies with the person running that place... And who's in charge in this place? Come on, now you can laugh!

FATHER: [Grimacing, in a vain attempt at laughter] I can't...

He starts crying, hysterically.

MARIA: Listen here, you were talking about proof just now. Could you tell me which of us has the dead man's money?

MARCO: What do you mean, which of us...? You've got it, in three parts, no?

MARIA: Yes, but I gave you the dead man's money, and I gave us two the rest of the money...

MARCO: You must be joking. Since when have a dead man's sovereigns been any different from a live man's?

MARIA: Well, sometimes even sovereigns can play tricks on you...

MARCO: [Pulling out his share of the loot] Aaargh... It's counterfeit money... all counterfeit... What a bandit... He was playing with counterfeit money... He's swindled us!

He hurls the purse down on the dead man's body. The blow causes the CORPSE to move its head suddenly, with a threatening look. MARCO backs off in fright.

MARIA: Well, I suppose that's the least you could expect from a bandit? But anyway, the police will have no difficulties in sorting out who was guilty... You'll cop yourself a nice reward, and also a nice bullet in the head...

MARCO bursts into tears, crying on the shoulder of the FATHER, who, in turn, also bursts into tears.

MARIA: Aren't you ashamed of yourselves, grown men, carrying on like this? Stop it! Alright, if that's the way it's got to be, then I'll take the corpse myself.

FATHER: But you must be crazy...

MARCO: Well... it's not such a bad idea, when you think of it...

FATHER: No way! I will never permit my daughter to sacrifice herself for a rogue like you...!

MARCO: But it's not necessarily the case that Maria is going to have to sacrifice herself... Once the crime - that is to say, the act of justice - has been reported... she can always run away...

MARIA: Yes, but without drawing the reward...

FATHER: Ah, yes, because if she was to wait for the reward... it would certainly take two or three days... and Magnaccio's brothers would have all the time they need... No... No... I couldn't allo such a thing... You'll have to make your getaway without collecting the reward.

MARIA: Agreed... But in that case, you're going to have to give me the reward...

MARCO AND FATHER: [Together] We are???

MARIA: That's right, so as to run away in style. I'm going to have to get as far away as possible... Maybe even to America... and that's going to take quite a lot of money... A thousand sovereigns, maybe more...

FATHER: A thousand sovereigns??

MARCO: Let's call it five hundred...

MARIA: A thousand.

FATHER: Seven hundred...

MARIA: A thousand...

MARCO: Nine hundred...

MARIA: A thousand...!

FATHER: Alright, then, a thousand.

MARIA: ... and five hundred!

FATHER: What do you mean, and five hundred...?

MARIA: That's right, one thousand five hundred... While you were haggling, it occurred to me that a thousand sovereigns wasn't very much... and, now I come to think of it, even one thousand five hundred is not a lot, really.

MARCO: No, no, don't go getting fresh ideas... That'll do, as it is...! Come on, Arturo, seven hundred and fifty sovereigns each! This corpse is getting a bit pricey!

FATHER: It's the most expensive corpse I've ever known!

As MARCO counts out the money, the FATHER raises the seat of one of the chairs, and pulls out a bag of money.

MARIA: Ah, so that's where you hide it... You old skinflint... And you were always pleading poverty... [Turning to Marco] There's no point in you counting that money. I've already told you, it's counterfeit!

MARCO hurls the money at the pianola, which starts playing again. Then he unbuttons his shirt, and pulls out an enormous wad of banknotes.

MARIA: And to think that you boasted that you had the finest chest in the village... Now I understand why!

MARCO: Bloodsucker!

MARIA: [Counting the money] Certainly! But don't think that this little transfusion is going to save your life! In fact, you'd better get busy... Go and get the horse out, and hitch him up to the wagon, if you want to get rid of this embarrassing little item.

FATHER: Yes... Yes... We'll see to it at once. But please, don't tell the inspector that you killed him in my inn!

MARIA: Don't worry! I shall say that I killed him myself, on the road leading to the convent, in order to defend myself against attack...

FATHER: Thank you, daughter, you're an angel!

MARCO: Yes, yes, you're an angel... But please, once you leave, don't show your face here again... Don't even write a letter... You see, it could be dangerous...

MARIA: Ah, yes, dangerous... Especially for you, ....

They exit. While MARIA busies herself putting all her money into a purse, the corpse slowly raises his head. He gets up, and creeps up behind the girl, with his hands stretched out to grab her. As she sees the hands appearing at the side of her face, MARIA lets out a stifled scream.

MARIA: Aaaargh...! [Turning to the resurrected corpse] Stupid! You frightened me...!

CUSTOMER: Well done, darling! You were amazing! If I wasn't afraid of blowing the whole business, I'd have burst out laughing god knows how many times...!

He embraces her tenderly.

MARIA: But you were pretty good, too... As good dead as you are alive! Ha, ha... We fooled them...! I tell you, to succeed in getting a skinflint like my father to pay for our honeymoon, you really do have to be pretty crafty!

CUSTOMER: And what a honeymoon we'll have...! There's enough money there to last the rest of our lives...! Just think, if you hadn't had this idea, just because of your father, you would never have been able to be my wife...

He goes to kiss her.

MARIA: [Gently side-stepping him] Oh, please... take that wig off... It's too frightening... [The Customer removes his red wig and whiskers. They are just about to embrace again, but suddenly stop. From outside we hear the noise of a carriage arriving] The wagon's ready! We should get ready too!

MARCO: [Entering from the left, followed by the Father. At the same time, unseen by him, the other two exit from the right] There you are, Maria. It's ready. You can leave now!

FATHER: But where is Maria...?

MARIA: [From off-stage] I'm here, papa...

We hear the sound of wheels.

FATHER: Wait, he's too heavy... for you to load him all by yourself...

MARIA: I've already done it. Goodbye, papa!

FATHER: Goodbye, Maria. Thank you...!

MARIA: My thanks to you...

MARCO: Goodbye! But please... don't write...

FATHER: [Moved] What a wonderful girl! Sacrificing herself for me...! I tell you, she really didn't deserve a father like me...

MARCO: Let's not get gloomy... We've come out of this pretty well... Come on, bring a bottle over here, and the cards, and to hell with misery... I feel like something to cheer me up.

FATHER: And you want to cheer yourself up with me...? Alright... What are we going to play?

DRUNKARD: [Re-entering at that moment] Can we play that game of my cousin in America?

MARCO: Here he goes again...

FATHER: You're getting to be like a needle stuck in a groove!

MARCO: Do me a favour! Leave us in peace!

DRUNKARD: Ah,now there's a fine welcome! That's what you get for giving corpses to friends!

MARCO: Fine present that turned out to be! Do you know who that fellow was whom we killed?

DRUNKARD: Who?

FATHER: Magnaccio!

DRUNKARD: Magnaccio? Ha, ha... That's funny!

MARCO: Alright, if you find it so amusing, just look here!

He puts the reward poster in front of him.

DRUNKARD: Good lord!

FATHER: You're not laughing so much now, are you?! But don't worry, Magnaccio is dead!

DRUNKARD: [Touching himself all over] No... No... Yes... Yes... Just as well, I'm still alive!

MARCO: [Bursting out laughing] Yes... Yes... You're alive, but you were lucky to come out of it alive, too!

DRUNKARD: [Still looking at the photo] It's a good likeness...! Mind you, come to think of it, I looked better with whiskrs... I'm going to have to let them grow again...

FATHER: Yes, now I come to think of it... If you were to grow a moustache, and dye your hair red...

DRUNKARD: [Removing the hat which up until this moment has been jammed down over his ears] I don't need to. My hair is already red...

At the sight of this red hair, the two of them are momenarily frightened.

MARCO: [Recovering] Ha, ha... Heavens... You almost look like Magnaccio come back to life...!

DRUNKARD: What do you mean, "come back to life"? I never died...

FATHER: Yes, you never died, but Magnaccio did!

DRUNKARD: No... If Magnaccio didn't die... then I didn't die either... Because, if you don't mind, I am Magnaccio...!

FATHER: Don't be so stupid...! So who was that, that we killed earlier on?

DRUNKARD: What do you mean, killed? You should have seen him, a sort while ago, in the wagon, canoodling with your daughter. Since when do corpses canoodle...? Giggle...? Hum little tunes...? They were singing away to themselves: "We've diddled them, diddled the pair of them... "

FATHER: Diddled...? Now I come to think of it, that corpse sort of reminded me of someone...

MARCO: That's right... he reminded you of the shoemaker's son... the one who was courting your daughter... and that's exactly who he was...!

FATHER: So if he was himself... then you must be...

MARCO: Magnaccio!

The two of them back off, terrified.

DRUNKARD: Magnaccio! Precisely... And now that we have introduced ourselves... why don't we play our game of cards, and have a little rink, because I feel that old badness creeping up on me again. [He pulls out a handful of money, gold chains, and watches] ... And, as you know, I so much prefer to be good...

MARCO: [Still maintaining a respectful distance] Yes, yes, good, very good... But where does all this stuff come from?

DRUNKARD: Oh... nothing... I just had a little bang- bang with some gentlemen that I ran into...

FATHER: So then all that money, and those watches, earlier on...?

DRUNKARD: Yes, bang-bang again...

MARCO: Don't be stupid...! Bang-bang, with a pipe?

DRUNKARD: Yes, with a pipe.

He points his pipe at the pianola, and fires off a loud shot. The pianola starts to play.

FATHER AND MARCO: A pipe that shoots?

DRUNKARD: Yes, it's an invention of mine. It's a pistol disguised as a pipe. That way, even if they take me by surprise, I shall always have the last laugh... And now let us play... Come on, sit down. But I warn you, the first one to try any tricks will get a pipeload in the head!

FATHER AND MARCO: Oh no! No tricks...

FATHER: My daughter always told me that we were going to get our come-uppance!

DRUNKARD: [Beginning to deal the cards at high speed] Who's dealing? Shall deal? Will you deal...? Alright, I'll deal... No-one want to cut the pack...? You trust me? You trust me. We trust each other...

As the two of them go through an increasingly frenetic pantomime of pouring drinks and picking up cards, terrified, the music from the pianola increases in volume, until it dominates everything else.

[Ends]

[From Comica finale, 1958]

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Last updated: 3.viii.2012

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