Part 8 (1/2)

ALBERTO (_drying his eyes and rubbing his head, like a cat, avid of caresses, against her hand_). How can I thank you enough, Lucrezia? You are like a mother to me.

LUCREZIA. I know. That's just what's so dangerous.

ALBERTO (_lets his head fall upon her bosom_). I come to you for comfort, like a tired child, Lucrezia.

LUCREZIA. Poor darling! (_She strokes his hair, twines its thick black tendrils round her fingers_, ALBERTO _is abjectly pathetic_.)

ALBERTO (_with closed eyes and a seraphic smile_). Ah, the suavity, the beauty of this maternal instinct!

LUCREZIA (_with a sudden access of energy and pa.s.sion_). The disgustingness of it, you mean. (_She pushes him from her. His head wobbles once, as though it were inanimate, before he straightens into life_.) The maternal instinct. Ugh. It's been the undoing of too many women. You men come with your sentimental babyishness and exploit it for your own l.u.s.ts. Be a man, Bertino. Be a woman, I mean, if you can.

ALBERTO (_looking up at her with eyes full of doglike, dumb reproach_).

Lucrezia! You, too? Is there n.o.body who cares for me? This is the unkindest cut of all. I may as well die. (_He relapses into tears_.)

LUCREZIA (_who has started to go, turns back, irresolute_). Now, don't cry, Bertino. Can't you behave like a reasonable being? (_She makes as though to go again_.)

ALBERTO (_through his sobs_). You too, Lucrezia! Oh, I can't bear it, I can't bear it.

LUCREZIA (_turning back desperately_). But what do you want me to do?

Why should you expect _me_ to hold your hand?

ALBERTO. I thought better of you, Lucrezia. Let me go. There is nothing left for me now but death. (_He rises to his feet, takes a step or two, and then collapses into another chair, unable to move_.)

LUCREZIA (_torn between anger and remorse_). Now do behave yourself sensibly, Bertino. There, there ... you mustn't cry. I'm sorry if I've hurt you. (_Looking towards the left along the path taken by_ AMY _and_ DOLPHIN.) Oh, d.a.m.nation! (_She stamps her foot_.) Here, Bertino, do pull yourself together. (_She raises him up_.) There, now you must stop crying. (_But as soon as she lets go of him his head falls back on to the iron table with an unpleasant, meaty b.u.mp. That b.u.mp is too much for_ LUCREZIA. _She bends over him, strokes his head, even kisses the l.u.s.trous curls_.) Oh, forgive me, forgive me! I have been a beast. But, tell me first, what's the matter, Bertino? What is it, my poor darling?

Tell me.

ALBERTO. n.o.body loves me.

LUCREZIA. But we're all devoted to you, Bertino mio.

ALBERTO. She isn't. To-day she shut the door in my face.

LUCREZIA. She? You mean the French-woman, the one you told me about?

Louise, wasn't she?

ALBERTO. Yes, the one with the golden hair.

LUCREZIA. And the white legs. I remember: you saw her bathing.

ALBERTO (_lays his hand on his heart_). Ah, don't remind me of it. (_His face twitches convulsively_.)

LUCREZIA. And now she's gone and shut the door in your face.

ALBERTO. In my face, Lucrezia.

LUCREZIA. Poor darling!

ALBERTO. For me there is nothing now but the outer darkness.