The Play's the Thing
9781465587299
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
As the curtain rises a distant orchestra is heard playing Leoncavallo’s “Mattinata.” The stage is almost dark. The only light comes through two large French windows at the back. Through them we see the moonlit Mediterranean far below, the vague outlines of the precipitous coast, twinkling lights along quays and esplanades, and here and there the faint glow from some lighted window. A lighthouse blinks intermittently in the far distance. Within the dark room three darker shadows loom against the moonlit windows; the lighted ends of three cigarettes prick the blackness. There is a long pause. It is almost embarrassingly long. Just before one wonders if anything is ever going to happen a man’s voice breaks the silence. THE MAN’S VOICE. When you stop talking, Sandor, for sixty consecutive seconds, there’s something wrong. [One of the shadowy forms is seen to rise and cross to the right wall. We hear the click of an electric switch and instantly the stage is flooded with the warm glow of several electric sconces and candelabra lamps. The light reveals a room beautifully furnished in Italian Renaissance. At the back one shallow step leads up to a raised portion which runs the whole width of the room. Behind it are the French windows, now closed, with a balcony beyond them. To the right a short flight of steps leads to a landing and a door to a bedroom suite. To the left one step leads up to a door to the hall and the remainder of the castle. Occupying the right wall of the lower portion of the room is a great fireplace with a corbelled chimney. A long table stands near it. At the left is a grand piano. Below the piano in the left wall is a door to another bedroom. All these doors are closed. Above the piano toward the center is a small stand with a telephone on it. There are comfortable chairs here and there. The ceiling is beamed and carved. The whole room reflects wealth and beauty. The speaker, who has just lighted the room, is a large and portly man of middle age. His name is Mansky. He is in a dinner jacket, as are his two companions, Sandor Turai seated in the center, and Albert Adam near the piano.Turai is also middle aged, but younger-looking and less portly than Mansky. A glance shows him to be a man of consequence and dynamic personality. He is wearing a monocle. Albert Adam is a dreamy, handsome boy just over the threshold of manhood. The distant orchestra has stopped playing. Mansky reseats himself to the right of Turai,and speaks again.]
