Free Tales of Madness by Luigi Pirandello Page B

down! Wait here a moment. Keep an eye on these suitcases. I'm going with Pitagora to retrieve the trunk."
    And as we walk, he gives me a brief account of the pitiful story, of his poor brother-in-law, who had gotten married in Forli about two and a half years before. He had had two children. Four months later, one of them had gone blind. This misfortune, the inability to provide for the needs of his family by his own means, the constant quarrels with his mother-in-law and with his foolish and egotistical wife — all these things had unbalanced his mind. Now Renzi was bringing him to Rome to have him seen by doctors and to provide some distraction for him.
    If I had not seen Tito reduced to that state with my own eyes, doubtlessly I would have believed that Renzi had wanted to play a joke on me, as he had so many times before. Feeling both dizziness and pity, I then confess to him the mistake I had made, that is, how until the previous day I had greeted Tito, the fiancée, on the streets of Rome. Renzi, despite his concern for his brother-in-law, is unable to keep from laughing.
    "I assure you!" I tell him. "Exactly like him! Really him in person! For three months we have been greeting and exchanging smiles. We've become the 1 best of friends! But now, yes, now I can see the difference. But it's because Tito, poor fellow, I must say, no longer looks like himself. Instead, every day I've been greeting Tito as he was before going to Forli, three years ago. He looks exactly like him, you know? Tito, Tito who looks, Tito who speaks, Tito who smiles, Tito who walks, Tito who recognizes and greets me... Exactly like him! Exactly like him! You can imagine how it struck me seeing him again like this, now, after having seen him yesterday around four o'clock, beaming with happiness in the company of his little bride-to-be."
    It's my misfortune that no one ever takes, or wants to take into account, anything that I feel. Renzi, as I said, was laughing and a little later, in order to amuse the sick man, decided to tell him this fine story. Now listen to what ensued.
    At first the poor fellow was strangely astonished at my blunder. For quite a while during the trip from the station to the hotel he mulled over the idea, and finally, taking me by the arm, his greatly dilated eyes staring into mine, he shouted at me:
    "Pitagora, you're right!"
    "What do you mean, dear Tito?"
    "I mean you're right!" he repeated, without letting go of me, and with a glimmer of terrifying light in his eyes, which became increasingly more dilated. "You weren't mistaken! The person you have been greeting is me. Really me, Pitagora! I've never left Rome! Never! Never! Whoever says the opposite is my enemy! Here, here. You're right, I've always been here in Rome, young, free, happy, as you've been seeing and greeting me every day. My dear Pitagora, ah, now I can breathe! I can breathe! What a burden you've taken off my mind! Thanks, dear friend, thanks, thanks... I'm happy! Happy!"
    And turning to his brother-in-law:
    "We've had a terrible dream, my dear Quirino! Give me, give me a kiss! I hear the cock crowing again in my old studio in Rome! Pitagora here can tell you. Right, Pitagora? Right? Every day you meet me here in Rome... And what do I do in Rome? Tell Quirino. I'm a painter! A painter! And I sell, right? If you spot me laughing, it means I'm selling. Ah, it's going quite well... Hurrah for youth! A bachelor, free, happy..."
    "And your bride-to-be?" I unfortunately let slip from my tongue, not noticing that Renzi, in telling about my blunder a little while back, had prudently left out this dangerous detail.
    Tito's face suddenly darkened. This time he took hold of both my arms.
    "What did you say? How's that? I'm getting married?"
    And he looked at his brother-in-law, dumbfounded.
    "Of course not!" I immediately say to remedy the situation, at a signal from Renzi. "Of course not, dear Tito! I know well that you're just playing around with that little