hereâll get a little bite....
BEATRICE: I just hope they get work here, thatâs all I hope.
EDDIE: Oh, the syndicateâll fix jobs for them; till they pay âem off theyâll get them work every day. Itâs after the pay-off, then theyâll have to scramble like the rest of us.
BEATRICE: Well, it be better than they got there.
EDDIE: Oh sure, well, listen. So you gonna start Monday, heh, Madonna?
CATHERINE, embarrassed: Iâm supposed to, yeah.
Eddie is standing facing the two seated women. First Beatrice smiles, then Catherine, for a powerful emotion is on him, a childish one and a knowing fear, and the tears show in his eyesâand they are shy before the avowal.
EDDIE, sadly smiling, yet somehow proud of her: Well ... I hope you have good luck. I wish you the best. You know that, kid.
CATHERINE, rising, trying to laugh: You sound like Iâm goinâ a million miles!
EDDIE: I know. I guess I just never figured on one thing.
CATHERINE, smiling: What?
EDDIE: That you would ever grow up. He utters a soundless laugh at himself, feeling his breast pocket of his shirt. I left a cigar in my other coat, I think. He starts for the bedroom.
CATHERINE: Stay there! Iâll get it for you.
She hurries out. There is a slight pause, and Eddie turns to Beatrice, who has been avoiding his gaze.
EDDIE: What are you mad at me lately?
BEATRICE: Whoâs mad? She gets up, clearing the dishes. Iâm not mad. She picks up the dishes and turns to him. Youâre the one is mad. She turns and goes into the kitchen as Catherine enters from the bedroom with a cigar and a pack of matches.
CATHERINE: Here! Iâll light it for you! She strikes a match and holds it to his cigar. He puffs. Quietly: Donât worry about me, Eddie, heh?
EDDIE: Donât burn yourself. Just in time she blows out the match. You better go in help her with the dishes.
CATHERINE turns quickly to the table, and, seeing the table cleared, she says, almost guiltily: Oh! She hurries into the kitchen, and as she exits there: Iâll do the dishes, B.!
Alone, Eddie stands looking toward the kitchen for a moment. Then he takes out his watch, glances at it, replaces it in his pocket, sits in the armchair, and stares at the smoke flowing out of his mouth.
The lights go down, then come up on Alfieri, who has moved onto the forestage.
ALFIERI: He was as good a man as he had to be in a life that was hard and even. He worked on the piers when there was work, he brought home his pay, and he lived. And toward ten oâclock of that night, after they had eaten, the cousins came.
The lights fade on Alfieri and rise on the street.
Enter Tony, escorting Marco and Rodolpho, each with a valise. Tony halts, indicates the house. They stand for a moment looking at it.
MARCOâ he is a square-built peasant of thirty-two, suspicious, tender, and quiet-voiced: Thank you.
TONY: Youâre on your own now. Just be careful, thatâs all. Ground floor.
MARCO: Thank you.
TONY, indicating the house: Iâll see you on the pier tomorrow. Youâll go to work.
Marco nods. Tony continues on walking down the street.
RODOLPHO: This will be the first house I ever walked into in America! Imagine! She said they were poor!
MARCO: Ssh! Come. They go to door.
Marco knocks. The lights rise in the room. Eddie goes and opens the door. Enter Marco and Rodolpho, removing their caps. Beatrice and Catherine enter from the kitchen. The lights fade in the street.
EDDIE: You Marco?
MARCO: Marco.
EDDIE: Come on in! He shakes Marcoâs hand.
BEATRICE: Here, take the bags!
MARCO nods, looks to the women and fixes on Beatrice. Crosses to Beatrice: Are you my cousin?
She nods. He kisses her hand.
BEATRICE, above the table, touching her chest with her hand: Beatrice. This is my husband, Eddie. All nod. Catherine, my sister Nancyâs daughter. The brothers nod.
MARCO, indicating Rodolpho: My brother. Rodolpho. Rodolpho nods. Marco