Three Plays: Six Characters in Search of an Author, Henry IV, The Mountain Giants (Oxford World's Classics) by Luigi Pirandello Page B

but that is still light enough for the actors to wear, designed and cut out so as not to cover the eyes, nostrils, and mouth. This brings out the underlying meaning of the play. The
CHARACTERS
should not appear as
phantoms,
but as
created realities,
changeless constructs of the imagination, and therefore more real and substantial than the
ACTORS
with their natural mutability. The masks help create the impression of figures fashioned by art, each fixed immutably in the expression of its own fundamental feeling
—Remorse
for the
FATHER , Revenge
for the
STEPDAUGHTER , Scorn
for the
SON ,
and
Sorrow
for the
MOTHER
with static wax tears welling from her dark eyes and running down her cheeks, as in the painted and sculpted images of the
Mater dolorosa
in churches. And her clothing should be of some special material and style, sober, with stiff folds and statuesque volume; in short, not looking like a material you could buy in any old shop to be cut out and sewn by any old dressmaker
.
    The
FATHER
is about fifty, thinning at the temples, but not bald, with reddish hair and thick moustaches curling round a young-looking mouth, often open in an uncertain vacuous smile. His pallor is particularly noticeable on his broad forehead; blue oval eyes, bright and intelligent; he wears light-coloured trousers and a dark jacket; sometimes mellifluous, sometimes abruptly harsh and grating
.
    The
MOTHER
seems frightened and crushed by some unbearable burden of shame and humiliation. With her widow’s veil of thick crêpe, she dresses in humble black; and when she lifts the veil, her face seems not so much marked by suffering as made of wax; her eyes remain downcast
.
    The
STEPDAUGHTER ,
eighteen years of age, is defiant, almost impudent. Very beautiful, she too wears mourning, but with conspicuous elegance. She shows her contempt for the timid, suffering, lost air of the
YOUNG BOY ,
her brother, a miserable fourteen-year-old, also dressed in black; she is, however, full of tenderness towards her sister, a
LITTLE GIRL
of about four, wearing white, with a black silk sash round her waist
.
    The
SON
is twenty-two, tall and stiff in his contained scorn for his
FATHER
and his sullen indifference towards his
MOTHER ;
he wears a mauve overcoat and a long green scarf round his neck
.
    USHER [
cap in hand
]. Excuse me, sir.
    DIRECTOR [
brusque, surly
]. What is it now?
    USHER [
timidly
]. There are some people here asking to see you.
    The
DIRECTOR
and the
ACTORS
turn round in surprise and look down from the stage into the auditorium
.
    DIRECTOR [
furious again
]. But I’m in the middle of a rehearsal! And you know perfectly well that nobody’s allowed in during a rehearsal! [
Calling out to the back of the auditorium
] Who are you people? What do you want?
    FATHER [
coming forward to one of the two sets of steps, followed by the others
]. We’ve come here in search of an author.
    DIRECTOR [
half-puzzled, half-angry
]. An author? What author?
    FATHER . Any author, sir.
    DIRECTOR . But there’s no author round here because we’re not rehearsing any new play.
    STEPDAUGHTER [
brightly as she hurries up the steps
]. So much the better, so much the better, sir! So we could be your new play.
    SOME OF THE ACTORS [
amid the laughter and comments of the others
]. Oh, hear that, hear that!
    FATHER [
following the
STEPDAUGHTER
onto the stage
]. Could be. But if there’s no author … [
To the
DIRECTOR ] Unless you’d like to be …
    The
MOTHER
climbs the first few steps, holding the
LITTLE GIRL
by the hand and followed by the
YOUNG BOY .
They wait there, while the
SON
remains sullenly behind
.
    DIRECTOR . Are you people joking?
    FATHER . How can you say such a thing! Quite the contrary—we bring you a very distressing drama.
    STEPDAUGHTER . And one that could make your fortune!
    DIRECTOR . Do me a favour and clear off. We’ve got no time to waste with a bunch of loonies!
    FATHER [
honey-voiced and hurt
]. Oh sir, you must know that life is