Home is the Hunter
Page 10
PENELOPE
(Still studying the view)
Then her husband never went off to any war.
CLIA
(Carrying the bowl of soup to the table, and setting it down in front of the master’s chair)
Over here!
(ULYSSES, who has been watching PENELOPE as she stands at the door, comes to life and crosses over to the table.)
PENELOPE
(Turning round)
Why, Clia, haven’t you given our guest something to eat and drink? What’s wrong with you today? And see where you have set the bowl!
(To ULYSSES, sharply, as he sits down in front of the bowl)
That is my husband’s chair.
ULYSSES
(Rising quickly, moving to a side bench)
... Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t know.
CLIA
(Angry)
Yes, that’s the master’s chair. That’s why Melas tries to sit there. And he’s allowed, often enough.
PENELOPE
(Amused)
Allowed?
(To ULYSSES)
He hasn’t your good manners. Yes, that’s our trouble. It’s easy to deal with someone who has standards like our own. But if he doesn’t believe in our standards? Then it’s little use saying to him: “Look, no honourable man behaves in this way.” He only answers—if he bothers to answer—“But I behave in this way!” And that’s that. So what can we do?
ULYSSES
(Eating the soup hungrily)
You can’t argue with men like that, ma’am. All you can do is outfight them. Or outwit them.
(He reaches for the loaf that CLIA sets beside him.)
PENELOPE
Then you agree I haven’t done so badly? I’ve managed to keep those men arguing for three years.
(ULYSSES pauses in pouring out some wine. PENELOPE now uses a little irony.)
I couldn’t fight them, of course; but why didn’t I think of trying to outwit them? How stupid of me! I might even have allowed Melas to sit in my husband’s chair so that the others would learn to hate him. Or I could always have used a special smile for Eryx, just to stir up suspicion and jealousy. Oh, why didn’t I think of such things?
(ULYSSES stops drinking, and sets the goblet down. But as PENELOPE comes slowly nearer to him, he begins eating again—hurriedly, with embarrassment.)
Tell me, what’s the news? We don’t have many travellers visiting us, nowadays.
ULYSSES
Sorry, ma’am—I don’t think you should come too near me. I’ve been sleeping in rough places. This cloak is filthy.
PENELOPE
Have you heard nothing about my husband—Ulysses?
ULYSSES
They say he’s dead. I’m sorry, but that’s what they say.
PENELOPE
(To CLIA)
You see! Then why shouldn’t I choose another husband?
CLIA
And marry a man you don’t love?
PENELOPE
He could be a man who loves me. That is better than no man at all.
(ULYSSES starts eating, slowly now, as PENELOPE watches him. He says nothing.)
CLIA
But that isn’t how you feel!
PENELOPE
If you were I, how would you feel?
(She speaks to ULYSSES.)
You have travelled and seen many women. Tell me—am I too old to marry?
ULYSSES
No.
PENELOPE
Am I too ugly?
ULYSSES
No.
PENELOPE
Wouldn’t you say—as a man who has learned a lot about life in his travels—that this house needs a master? Or that my son needs a father’s advice? He’s almost eighteen now, you know.
(ULYSSES is silent. PENELOPE turns away, speaking as if to herself.)
Or that I need love, like any other woman?
(ULYSSES pushes away the bowl of soup and drops the hunk of bread on the table. PENELOPE walks slowly to the centre of the Hall.)
If Ulysses were alive—but he isn’t. He can’t be, or he surely would have sent some messages to me during those long, long years. Wouldn’t he? Look at me! Am I the kind of woman who is so easily forgotten?
(She faces him. ULYSSES rises abruptly, and walks toward the door.)
ULYSSES
Thank you for the food, ma’am.
PENELOPE
Are you leaving? So soon?
(ULYSSES halts, almost at the door, as if trying to control himself.)
CLIA
He’s got worries of his own. Stop pestering the man! He has nowhere to go, don’t you see? And he’s travelled far.
(Poor CLIA is at the stage of wringing her hands.)
PENELOPE
(To ULYSSES)
Then why not stay here, for tonight at least? I shan’t bother you any more with my troubles. But I’ll give you news to take on your journey.
(Her voice rises.)
Tonight, I’ll choose a husband. That story will buy you many a free meal on your travels.
(She begins to laugh.)
CLIA
Oh, Penelope! How cruel you are!
PENELOPE
Cruel? Who has been cruel?
(Suddenly, she turns and runs to the steps. Her laughter has changed to weeping. ULYSSES stares after her. PENELOPE halts with her foot on the first step.)
Oh, help me! Athena!
(ATHENA appears on the dais, and she stands there, looking down on PENELOPE.)
ATHENA
Careful, now! You are doing very nicely. But don’t get emotional, or you’ll spoil your plan.
PENELOPE
I can’t go on with it, I can’t—
(She turns and looks at ULYSSES, brushing away her tears. He stands very erect, now, watching her.)
ATHENA
Penelope, think!... Oh—
(She throws up her hands helplessly as PENELOPE runs to ULYSSES, who has suddenly held open his arms.)
—Penelope!
PENELOPE
Ulysses, Ulysses!
ULYSSES
(Catching her in his arms, looking at her. He throws his hat aside, and drops his cloak.)
Penelope...
(He kisses her passionately.)
ATHENA
Oh, you human beings! No wonder your lives get so muddled.
(She walks down the steps and across the Hall to the large doorway.)
When will you learn wisdom? But then—I suppose it isn’t so much fun to be wise.
(She looks at them as she passes by, and sighs as she watches a long kiss.)
It must be fun to be human, just once in a while...
(She suddenly halts, almost at the threshold.)
And now I’m losing my wits. I’m still needed here. After all the trouble I’ve had in bringing Ulysses home, I’m not going to leave this job half-done. Look at them! At this moment they haven’t a thought between them. Here, you two! Enough’s enough. Snap out of it!
(She claps her hands sharply together, and then retires into the background, composes herself to wait, and becomes quite motionless.)
ULYSSES
(Holding PENELOPE suddenly away from him)
You little devil! That was a fine performance to tear a man’s heart out. Was that the idea—tear it out, then jump on it with both feet?
(But he is laughing. Suddenly he becomes serious.)
When did you recognise me? Or was it Eumaeus who let you know I had come home?
PENELOPE
(Evasively)
He didn’t tell me.
ULYSSES
(Letting her go)
Then, when did you know me?
PENELOPE
Don’t you mean how did I know you?
ULYSSES
(Angry)
I don’t mean how, I mean when.
(Catching her by her wrists)
When?
PENELOPE
Oh, Clia, he really does
love me!... Darling, darling, I knew all along that the beggar was you. Now, don’t blame Eumaeus. I just sort of extracted the news from him. And besides, why did you hide it from me?
(ULYSSES is silent.)
When I came into the Hall this afternoon and found Eryx and Melas here, I had to play for time. And suddenly, suddenly I saw you at the door—oh, Ulysses, you made the most beggarly beggar I ever saw! Then I knew it was quite safe to announce the contest.
ULYSSES
Safe, was it?
PENELOPE
But don’t you see—you are bound to win! Only you know how to manage that Great Bow. And remember, I said the contest was open to everyone in the Hall tonight. Don’t I get a kiss for being clever?
ULYSSES
(Looks at the Great Bow and then says quietly)
Why had there to be a contest?
PENELOPE
I was forced to do something. You saw that.
ULYSSES
Why are the men still here? They were leaving this morning. If they had, there would have been no need for any contest.
(PENELOPE tries to evade his eyes, but he turns her face toward his.)
What kept them here?
PENELOPE
(Dejectedly)
I did.
ULYSSES
(Watching her carefully)
Why?... Did you play with the idea of marrying Melas?
PENELOPE
(Angry)
No! Nor Eryx. Nor any of the others.
(More quietly)
I—I kept them here only after I knew you were coming home.
ULYSSES
(Slowly)
Did you hate me so much?
PENELOPE
No—oh, don’t you see?
ULYSSES
Frankly, I don’t.
PENELOPE
Oh, there were so many reasons. But chiefly—chiefly—
ULYSSES
Yes?
PENELOPE
(Quickly)
You wouldn’t want those men to escape from here, without paying for what they have done. Would you? After all, the Hero of the Trojan War doesn’t just come home and, and—
ULYSSES
The Hero of the Trojan War only wanted to come home and relax with his wife and son.
PENELOPE
Then why didn’t the Hero of the Trojan War come home when the last battle was won?
ULYSSES
So this mess is all my fault, is it?
(PENELOPE pulls her hands free and covers her face to hide her tears. He draws her gently to him.)
And so it is... I’m sorry, Penelope... Forgive me.
PENELOPE
(Throwing her arms around him again)
Oh, Ulysses... Can you forgive me?
(The curtain closes swiftly.)
SCENE 2
There has been a short passage of time: the same characters are still in the Hall. Only, PENELOPE is now sitting on ULYSSES’ knees, and he sits in his chair. They are both talking, explaining, while poor ATHENA sits on one of the broad steps and sleeps, CLIA, her back turned tactfully, has dozed off, too, by the hearth. (The slant of the sunshine coming in through the main entrance has altered; but the shadow has not yet reached the mark that ERYX had scored on the floor.) TELEMACHUS enters, and halts just inside the door, amazed, ULYSSES immediately jumps to his feet, swinging PENELOPE behind him, and draws his dagger as he faces the door, ATHENA is jolted awake.
ULYSSES
(Furious)
Sweet suffering Jupiter! Don’t do that to me, boy! I thought it was one of those bastards sneaking in.
(CLIA is awake, too, now.)
TELEMACHUS
Sorry, Father, I really am.
(He comes forward nervously, and then beams with delight.)
But I’m glad you told Mother who you are.
PENELOPE
I would have probably found out, anyway.
TELEMACHUS
Oh no, you wouldn’t. His disguise was cool, it really was.
ULYSSES
(Sheathes his dagger and smiles)
Well, we shan’t argue about that. Where’s Eumaeus?
TELEMACHUS
Just outside.
(He whistles and EUMAEUS shambles in.)
We did what you told us. We—
ULYSSES
(Quickly)
Good, good. And where is Philetius?
TELEMACHUS
He’ll be out in the stables.
ULYSSES
Bring him here.
TELEMACHUS
Yes, sir!
(He runs into the yard.)
PENELOPE
What on earth was Telemachus trying to say? We did what you told us?
ULYSSES
Oh, they were just helping to strengthen my will power. Well, it’s good to know that Philetius got safely home.
PENELOPE
(Still thinking of TELEMACHUS)
But, darling, what did they—
ULYSSES
The last time I saw him, we were out on a raid together—a night raid on the Trojan camp.
(As he speaks, TELEMACHUS enters with a thin man of about fifty. This is PHILETIUS. He comes to attention when he sees ULYSSES. But ulysses catches him in a rough bear hug.)
Philetius, you old rascal, you old ruffian...
(To the others)
He was the best god-damned sergeant I ever had.
(He thumps PHILETIUS on the back, but he can’t go on speaking.)
TELEMACHUS
Philetius?... And what’s a night raid?
ULYSSES
Just an idea I worked out—and the opposition I got at first from the high brass! Roughly, a night raid was this: we blackened our faces, crawled on our bellies, silenced the sentries, took a couple of prisoners for information. And then, we got the hell out.
(Laughing)
Don’t look so shocked, Telemachus. Isn’t it heroic enough for you? But it’s the way to win a war. All that old-fashioned business of having duels between opposing generals—bah! Nothing was ever decided that way. As soon as a general got killed in a duel, then another officer was promoted to be a general. And of course he wanted to have a duel, too. Big stuff, you know—both armies watching, publicity, applause. It goes to a man’s head, that sort of thing. And the war just never got finished. Now, my idea was to win, to win as thoroughly and quickly as possible, and let the men get home.
(At the last word, he glances quickly over at PENELOPE. He looks embarrassed and rubs his head.)
Yes, yes. Go on! Say it!
PENELOPE
(Smiling a little)
We were out on a night raid, weren’t we?
ULYSSES
(Grinning)
So we were... Actually, we were coming back from a raid. Philetius was covering our withdrawal. He was a good man with a knife—eh, Philetius?
(PHILETIUS smiles.)
But, that night, he was captured. The Trojans questioned him.
(PHILETIUS nods.)
He told them nothing, except his name, rank, and number.
(PHILETIUS shakes his head in agreement.)
So after a week of various persuasions, they lost their temper and tore out his tongue. They made him a slave in a mill, but when Troy went up in flames, he escaped. Right, Philetius?
(PHILETIUS nods.)
TELEMACHUS
(Looking at PHILETIUS with awe)
But, Father, how did you find out all that?
ULYSSES
Some of our best spies were Trojans... Now, let’s get back to our own little war. Eumaeus, Philetius, Telemachus, myself. Against eleven men.
PENELOPE
But darling—you won’t have to do any fighting! You are going to win the contest.
ULYSSES
I’d just as soon have some friends to back me up, when I do. Eumaeus—keep your eyes on that hillside, will you? I’d like some warning before these men do get back.
(EUMAEUS mov
es out into the yard.)
PENELOPE
Let’s have no extra trouble, darling. Please! All you have to do is to win. Those men are cowards—that’s why they are so bold. When they see how strong you are, they’ll melt into the night like shadows on a hillside.
ULYSSES
They may need a little help in melting. Now, an arrow through each throat might do it. But that’s a long job.
(He walks over to the door as he talks and looks up at the bow.)
Can you manage it, old friend? Or shall we settle for one clean swift arrow through Melas, and another one through Eryx? The rest of them might argue less, after that.
(He reaches up his hand and strokes the bow.)
I’d like just to have the feel of you again. It’s been a long time.
(He lifts the bow down and raises it into holding position, the unstrung bow at arm’s full length in front of him, his arm straight and rigid.)
When I was a boy, Telemachus, I had to stand like this for an hour each day. That’s the way my father taught me to strengthen my arm.
TELEMACHUS
(Glumly)
You mean I’ve got to stand like that for an hour, every day?
ULYSSES
If you want to master this bow. It’s more powerful than you think.
(He relaxes his arm, rubs its muscles, and then unwinds the bow’s string. He kneels on his right knee, holding the bow in a scissor-grip between his legs—one horn resting over his right thigh, the other clamped under his left thigh. Now he sits back on his right heel as he presses the horns up toward him, recurving them. It is a mighty effort. But not enough: the string, attached to the tip of the right horn, refuses to meet the tip of the left horn. He pulls and forces. His arm trembles with the strain.)