by John Guare
BILLY: Just a bite would be—
BANANAS comes down to us with Artie’s scrapbook: What they do is they make a scrapbook of all the things she can cook, then they paste them in the book—veal parmagina, eggplant meringue …
ARTIE grabs it from her.
BANANAS: Eughh …
ARTIE, to Billy: We make a scrapbook of all the things Bunny can cook, you see, then we paste them in the book.
BUNNY serves. ARTIE takes a deep breath. He tastes.
ARTIE, to us: I wish I had spoons enough for all of you.
They eat.
BUNNY: Mr. Einhorn, I met your friend today before Hiroshima Mon Amour happened out there and all I got to say is I hope when I go I got two Sisters of Charity with me. I don’t know your persuasion God-wise, but your friend Corrinna, whether she likes it or not, is right up there in heaven tonight.
BILLY: Artie, you were right. We are what our women make us. Corrinna: how easily deaf becomes dead. It was her sickness that held us together. Health. Health. You were always healthy. You married a wonderful little Italian girl. You have a son. Where am I?
BUNNY: Deaf starlets. That’s no life.
BILLY: So how come she’s dead? Who blew her up?
BANANAS: It was on the eleven o’clock news.
BUNNY: Crying and explanations won’t bring her back. Mr.
Einhorn, if it took all this to get you here, I kiss the calendar for today. Grief puts erasers in my ears. My world is kept a beautiful place. Artie … I feel a song coming on.
ARTIE: How about a lovely tune, Bill, to go with that food. He goes to the piano and plays.
BUNNY opens the umbrella and does a dance with it, as she sings:
Where is the devil in Evelyn?
What’s it doing in Angela’s eyes?
Evelyn is heavenly,
Angela’s in a devil’s disguise.
I know about the sin in Cynthia
And the hell in Helen of Troy,
But where is the devil in Evelyn?
What’s it doing in Angela’s eyes?
Oh boy!
What’s it doing in Angela’s eyes?
BILLY: My God!
ARTIE, up from the piano: What!
BILLY: Suddenly!
BANANAS: Was it the veal?
BILLY: I see future tenses! I see I can go on! Health! I have an extra ticket. Corrinna’s ticket. For Australia.
ARTIE: God, Billy, I’d love to. I have all my music … ARTIE races to Billy.
BILLY, coming to Bunny: Cook for me a while? Stay with me a while? In two hours a plane leaves from Kennedy and on to a whole new world. Los Angeles. We drop off Corrinna’s body. Then on to Hawaii. Samoa. Nonstop to Melbourne. Someone who listens. That’s what I need.
BUNNY: But my whole life is here …
BILLY: Chekhov was right. Work. Work. That’s the only answer. All aboard??????
BUNNY: My my my my my my my …
ARTIE: Are you out of your head? Leaving in two hours? It takes about six months to get shots and passports—
BUNNY: Luckily two years ago I got shots and a passport in case I got lucky with a raffle ticket to Paree. To us: I’m in raffles all over the place.
ARTIE: Bunny—
BUNNY: Leave me alone, Arthur. I have to think. I don’t know what to say. It’s all so sudden.
The LITTLE NUN comes out of the bedroom. She is in civvies. As a matter of fact, she has on one of Georgina’s dresses, off the shoulder, all covered with artificial cherries. It is too big for her. She carries her wet habit.
LITTLE NUN: I was catching a cold so I put on one of your dresses, Mrs. Shaughnessy. I have to go now. I want to thank you for the loveliest day I’ve ever had. You people are so lucky. You have so much. She is near tears. And your son is so cute. Maybe when I take my final vows I can cross my fingers and they won’t count.
BILLY: How would you like to stay here?
ARTIE: Stay here?
BILLY: There’ll be an empty apartment right down below and you could come up and take care of Bananas. He takes out his wallet and gives a number of hundred-dollar bills to the little nun. How’s this for a few months’ salary?
ARTIE: What’s all that money?
BILLY: Artie, don’t send Bananas away. Love. That’s all she needs.
BANANAS: It is? The telephone rings. She answers it: Yes? Yes? To Artie, who is on his knees, trying to reason with Bunny: It’s the Zoo.
ARTIE: Tell them I’ll call—what are they calling this late for?
BANANAS: The animals are all giving birth! Everything’s having a baby. The leopards and the raccoons and the gorillas and the panthers and the …
ARTIE, taking the phone: Who is this? Al? Look, this is what you have to do. Heat the water. Lock the male elephants out. They get testy. The leopardess tends to eat her children. Watch her careful …
As he talks on the phone so we can’t hear him, BUNNY comes downstage and talks to us.
BUNNY: The Pope saw my wish today. He looked me right in the eye and he winked. Hey! Smell—the bread is starting again and there’s miracles in the air! The Pope is flying back through the nighttime sky and all the planets fall back into place and Orion the Hunter relaxes his bow … and the gang war in Vietnam will be over and all those crippled people can now stand up and walk back to Toledo. And, Billy, in front of all these people, I vow to you I’ll be the best housekeeper money can buy … and I’ll cook for you and clean and, who knows, maybe there’ll be a development…. And, Bananas, honey, when I get to California, I’ll send you some of my clothes. I’ll keep up Georgina’s traditions. Sister, here are the keys to my apartment downstairs. You can write a book, “I Jump Over the Wall,” and, Billy, you could film it.
ARTIE, on the phone: Yes! I’ll be right down. I’ll be right on the subway. Yes. He hangs up. I … have to go to work.
… Billy? Bun? Would you like to come? See life starting? It’s beautiful.
BUNNY, in the kitchen: Bananas, honey, could I have this copper pot? I’ve always had my eye on this pot.
BANANAS: Take it.
ARTIE: Listen, Bill.
BUNNY: Well, I’m packed.
ARTIE: I write songs, Bill. He starts playing and singing “Back Together Again.”
BANANAS, to Billy, who is on his way out: Thank you, Billy.
BILLY, coming back and sitting alongside Artie: Artie, can I tell you a secret?
ARTIE stops playing.
BILLY: Do you know who I make my pictures for? Money? No. Prestige? No. I make them for you.
ARTIE: Me?
BILLY: I sit on the set and before every scene I say, “Would this make Artie laugh? Would this make Artie cry?”
ARTIE: I could come on the set and tell you personal …
BILLY: Oh no, Artie. If I ever thought you and Bananas weren’t here in Sunnyside, seeing my work, loving my work, I could never work again. You’re my touch with reality.
He goes to Bananas. Bananas, do you know what the greatest talent in the world is? To be an audience. Anybody can create. But to be an audience … be an audience …
ARTIE runs back to the piano. He sings desperately:
I’m looking for something,
I’ve searched everywhere …
BUNNY: Artie, I mean this in the best possible sense: You’ve been a wonderful neighbor.
BILLY, to Artie: I just saved your life.
BILLY takes Bunny’s hand and leads her out.
ARTIE plays “Where Is the Devil in Evelyn?” hysterically, then runs out after them, carrying his sheet music.
ARTIE, shouting: Bill! Bill! I’m too old to be a young talent!!!
The LITTLE NUN comes downstage, her hands filled with money.
LITTLE NUN, to us: Life is this orchard and we walk beneath it and apples and grapes and cherries and mangoes all tumble down on us. Ask and you shall receive. I didn’t even ask and look how much I have. Thank you. Thank you all.
She kisses the television. A shrine
… I wanted to be a Bride of Christ but I guess now I’m a young divorcee. I’ll go downstairs and call up the convent. Good-bye. Thank you. She wrings out her wet habit, then throws it up in the air and runs out.
BANANAS turns off all the lights in the room. ARTIE returns. He stands in the doorway. BANANAS sits on the edge of the armchair. She is serene and peaceful and beautiful in the dim light. ARTIE comes into the room slowly. He lets his music slip to the floor.
BANANAS: I don’t blame you for that lady, Artie. I really don’t. But I’m going to be good to you now. Cooking. I didn’t know you liked cooking. All these years and I didn’t know you liked cooking. See, you can live with a person … Oh God, Artie, it’s like we’re finally alone for the first time in our life. Like it’s taken us eighteen years to get from the church to the hotel room and we’re finally alone. I promise you I’ll be different. I promise you …
He smiles at her, hopefully.
Hello, Artie.
She sits on her haunches like a little dog smiling for food. She sings:
Back together again,
Back together again.
Since we split up
The skies we lit up
Looked all bit up
Like Fido chewed them,
But they’re
Back together again.
You can say you knew us when …
She barks. She sits up, begging, her hands tucked under her chin. She rubs her face into Artie’s legs. He pats her head. She is thrilled. He kneels down in front of her. He touches her face. She beams. She licks his hand. He kisses her. He strokes her throat. He looks away. He holds her. He kisses her fully. She kisses him. He leans into her. As his hands go softly on her throat, she looks up at him with a beautiful smile as if she had always been waiting for this. He kisses her temples, her cheeks. His hands tighten around her throat. Their bodies blend as he moves on top of her. She smiles radiantly at him. He squeezes the breath out of her throat. She falls.
Soft piano music plays.
The stage begins to change. Blue leaves begin to filter all over the room until it looks like ARTIE is standing in a forest of leaves that are blue. A blue spotlight appears downstage and he steps into it. He is very happy and smiles at us.
ARTIE: Hello. My name is Artie Shaughnessy and I’d like to thank you for that blue spot and to sing you some songs from the pen of. He sings:
I’m here with bells on,
Ringing out how I feel.
I’ll ring,
I’ll roar,
I’ll sing
Encore!
I’m here with bells on.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
The stage is filled with blue leaves.
CURTAIN
CHAUCER IN ROME
The world premiere of Chaucer in Rome was produced by Williamstown Theatre Festival, Michael Ritchie, Producer.
The play premiered in New York on June 7,2001, at the Mitzi Newhouse Theater, produced by Lincoln Center Theater, André Bishop, Artistic Director, and Bernard Gersten, Executive Producer. It was directed by Nicholas Martin.
CAST
MATT Jon Tenney
SARAH Carrie Preston
PETE Bruce Norris
IL DOTTORE/FATHER SHAPIRO
JOE/CHARLIE Lee Wilkoff
IL TASSINARO Antonio Edwards Suarez
RENZO Ümit Çelebi
DOLO Polly Holliday
RON Dick Latessa
PILGRIMS/FELLOWS Ümit Çelebi, Susan Finch, Mark Fish, Nancy McDoniel, Tim McGeever, Antonio Edwards Suarez
A Roman hospital. Ospedale Nuovi Regina Margherita.
MATT, American, 33, in a wheelchair; in post-op from surgery, focuses on SARAH, 32, American. He’s just asked a profound question and hangs on her answer, which does not come. He looks at IL DOTTORE, Italian, 50s, in a white smock, chain-smoking. Nervous silence. Just outside the door come sounds of the agonized screaming of a number of people. No one pays attention to this. MATT turns to his friend PETE, American, 30s.
MATT: Yes? Yes?
SARAH: The operation was a success.
MATT: Yes? Yes? I keep saying Yes?
IL DOTTORE: L’operazione è andata benissimo.
PETE: They got it.
SARAH hands MATT his clothes.
SARAH: Put your clothes on. We can go.
MATT: I’m all right?
PETE: The operation perfetto.
MATT: It wasn’t melanoma?
SARAH: It wasn’t melanoma.
MATT registers, falls back in relief and starts to cry.
MATT: Thank you. Thank you, God. Thank you. I was sure it was over. It wasn’t melanoma?
PETE: It wasn’t melanoma.
MATT: Don’t let me die before I finish my work. That was my prayer. The spots on my legs?
PETE: Dyskeriatosis. All these pre-cancerous spots burned off with liquid oxygen. Not malignant. Be careful in the sun.
MATT: But my arm—my head—
IL DOTTORE: Squamous Cell Carcinoma.
MATT: Carcinoma!
PETE: That was cancer—
MATT: No!
PETE: —and he got it. IL DOTTORE expunged every trace of the Squamous Cell Carcinoma from your arm and the back of your head with his magic scalpel.
MATT: But down here—
PETE: He grafted skin from your inner thigh onto the back of your skull. You’re tip-top.
SARAH: You’re fine. Get dressed.
PETE: Your Jackson Pollock pants—put these in a frame—show these—
SARAH hands him his paint-stained clothes.
SARAH: Oh god—I know what to get you. We can go.
MATT: Back to the American Academy! Let’s go!
IL DOTTORE: É famoso?
MATT: What’s this bombshell?
PETE: He wants to know if you’re famous.
MATT, to us: I’m about to be. In the horse race that is art, I am pulling ahead of the pack. The Whitney Millenial New Artists. I’m about to sign with a major gallery who wants to see the new work when I finish. Into the home stretch! Winners circle straight ahead! I’ve got to get back to work. Finish up—so much to do—finish the work—I prayed. I’m so embarrassed. I prayed. Foxhole conversion. Oh God, if you believe I am a good painter, you will let me keep on going. Grazie. Grazie. Thank you. Thank—
IL DOTTORE waves his hand, skeptically. MATT sees it.
MATT, sharp: What’s this hand wiggle? Is body Italian different from body English?
IL DOTTORE: Però deve fare attenzione.
PETE: The important thing is they got the squamous cell cancer.
MATT: Squamous?
PETE: Squamous. Covered with or consisting of scales. Scaly. Your skin was so scaly, we thought you were turning into a salamander. I mean, you prayed? We all prayed. We’re in Rome. God’s hometown. He hears. You’re fine.
MATT: What’s the catch?
SARAH: There’s no catch. You’re alive.
MATT: The catch?
SARAH: There is no—well, there is.
To IL DOTTORE: Tell him.
IL DOTTORE: My English it’s— Lei deve dirglielo …
PETE, to SARAH: You tell him.
MATT: Tell me!
IL DOTTORE: Che non potra dipingere.
SARAH: Paint.
MATT: What about paint?
IL DOTTORE shakes his finger no.
IL DOTTORE: Non potrà dipingere mai più.
SARAH: He says you can’t paint.
MATT: Is he a critic? I thought he was a surgeon.
SARAH: The finest skin cancer specialist in Italy—
PETE, to IL DOTTORE: La signora sta dicendo che Lei è il miglior specialista per dermatologica cancro in Italia. Siamo molto fortunati ad averla.
IL DOTTORE smiles and waves his hand.
IL DOTTORE: No, non in Italia. Solo a Roma.
PETE: In Rome.
MATT: I understand that!
IL DOTTORE: Le sostanze tossiche nella vernice Le hanno causato il cancr
o della pelle.
PETE: The toxins in the paint you use gave you this cancer—
There is loud screaming outside in the halls.
MATT: It’s the paint I use – What’s going on out there?
IL DOTTORE: Èmolto semplice. Se usa vernice senza il carcinogenica, andra tutto a posto.
SARAH: He’s saying use different paint.
PETE: You use paints with an arsenic base, with a lead base!
MATT: Naples yellow. Cremnitz White.
PETE: Poison! Basta! That’s all he’s saying.
MATT: The carcinogenic paint I use is the paint that got me the Rome prize. It’s what I’ve used all my life. I can’t use paint?
SARAH: Use acrylic paint!
MATT: It dries too quickly!
PETE: Use house paint!
MATT: It doesn’t have any quality! I can’t use my paint? The paint gave me cancer? Oh Christ.
PETE, to us: Your heart had to split for the guy. I mean, to find out the materials you build your entire life on are the very materials that can kill you.
SARAH, to us: He was quiet for a long time. Let him be. Let him digest it. What are those five stages of mourning?
PETE, to us: Denial and despair I think are the first ones. I can’t remember what stage comes next—
Screaming outside.
MATT: What is that screaming?
IL DOTTORE dismisses the noise.
IL DOTTORE: Non vedo it problema. Usi la pittura lavabile e potrà continuare a lavorare.
SARAH: Use lovely, innocent, hygienic, water-based paint and get back to work. I understood that. Get dressed—
IL DOTTORE: Dopo tutto, la pittura è pittura.
PETE: Paint is paint.
MATT: Paint is paint???
PETE: Oh yes—I remember. Anger.
IL DOTTORE: Quando Matisse perse la vista, accetò il suo destino e cominciò a fare collages con dei grandissimi fogli di carta.
PETE: Cutting out giant pieces of paper—when Matisse went blind—