Act 2 scene 1 Flashcards
(lights up)
You hungry?
Not for anything to eat. I have nearly three hundred dollars. Catherine?
I heard you.
You don’t like to talk about it any more?
Sure, I don’t mind talkin’ about it.
What worries you, Catherine?
I been wantin’ to ask you about something. Could I?
All the answers are in my eyes, Catherine. But you don’t look in my eyes lately. You’re full of secrets. What is the question?
Suppose I wanted to live in Italy.
You going to marry somebody rich?
No, I mean live there - you and me.
When?
Well. . . when we get married.
You want to be an Italian?
No, but I could live there without being Italian. Americans live there.
Forever?
Yeah.
You’re fooling.
No, I mean it.
Where do you get such an idea?
Well, you’re always saying it’s so beautiful there, with the mountains and the ocean and all the. . .
You’re fooling me.
I mean it.
Catherine, if I ever brought you home . . . they would say Rodolpho is crazy.
I know, but I think we would be happier there.
Happier! What would you eat? You can’t cook the view!
Maybe you could be a singer, like in Rome or. . .
Rome! Rome is full of singers
Well, I could work then.
Where?
God, there must be jobs somewhere!
There’s nothing! . . . Don’t you believe that?
I’m afraid of Eddie here.
We wouldn’t live here. . . If I were not afraid to be arrested I would start to be something wonderful here.
Tell me something. I mean just tell me, Rodolpho. Would you still want to do it if it turned out that we had to go live in Italy? I mean just if it turned out that way.
Is this your question or his question?
I would like to know, Rodolpho. I mean it.
No. No.
You wouldn’t?
No. I will not marry you to live in Italy. . . I am not a beggar and you are not a horse, a gift, a favor for a poor immigrant.
Well, don’t get mad!
I am furious!. . . that is the only wonder here - work! How can you insult me, Catherine?
I didn’t mean that. . .
My heart dies to look at you. WHy are you so afriad of him?
I don’t know!
Do you trust me, Catherine? You?
It’s only that I. . . he was good to me, Rodolpho. You don’t know him; he was always the sweetest guy to me. Good. He razzes me all the time but he don’t mean it. I know. I would. . . just feel ashamed if I made him sad. ‘Cause I always drempt that when I got married he would be happy at the wedding, and laughin’ . . . and now he’s .. . mad all the time and nasty. . . Tell him you’d live in Italy - just tell him, and maybe he would start to trust you a little, see? Because I want him to be happy’ I mean . . . I like him, Rodolpho. . . and I can’t stand it!
