Home is the Hunter

by Helen Macinnes

  (He dumps the weapons in a pile at his feet, and pushes them disgustedly with his foot.)

  Why agree with Eryx? You can’t trust him.

  ULYSSES

  I can trust him to be himself. Philetius, slip out and take the short cut to the road into the village. Choose a couple of throwing-knives to keep you company. I want you to guard the road, just at the crest of the hill from which you can see the harbour. No one is to reach that crest. No one is to see the harbour. No one is to report back here to Eryx. Got that?

  (PHILETIUS has moved over to the heap of weapons, and chosen two knives which he weighs for a moment in his hands and then slips into his belt. As ULYSSES asks his question, he nods and picks up a third knife, to throw at the wall, where it strikes and holds. CLIA exclaims. TELEMACHUS’ mouth falls open. PHILETIUS pauses as he is about to leave by the door, and points across the Hall to the doorway of the men’s quarters.)

  You’re right. Better leave by a window from that side of the house.

  (PHILETIUS has already moved to that doorway. He goes out. ULYSSES advances on the heap of weapons.)

  Now, let’s get this cleared away.

  (He lifts a sword and pushes it through his belt, and starts carrying the rest of the weapons to the nearest chest. It lies against the wall, between the steps to the dais and the fireplace. CLIA helps him. TELEMACHUS selects a sword for himself.)

  Come on, Telemachus. Hide that sword. Meanwhile...

  TELEMACHUS

  (Puts it unwillingly inside the chest, as ULYSSES pulls the knife from the wall and throws it into the chest, too)

  I just don’t know anything, that’s the trouble. Every time something happens, I’m not there. I just don’t know anything.

  ULYSSES

  (Thinking; then pulling out the sword he had chosen and adding it to the chest)

  Painful, but necessary. We’ll keep our daggers—even a beggar can own a knife without causing suspicion.

  (He begins to help clia stuff back the linen from the chest on top of the weapons. They close the chest.)

  That’s right, Clia; put pots and pans on top. You’re preparing a banquet. Remember?

  CLIA

  Banquet!

  (She sniffs.)

  ULYSSES

  In case they stay to dinner—how’s the wine?

  CLIA

  We are down to our last barrel.

  ULYSSES

  Then strengthen it. I want one cup to be as powerful as four. What’s wrong? You used to make the drugs and medicines.

  CLIA

  I was just thinking—what a pity I never specialised in poisons!

  ULYSSES

  (Putting a couple of bowls on top of the chest for good measure)

  No, thank you. You stick to sleeping powders and we’ll keep our appetites.

  (He has walked back to his place at the hearth, and draws his cloak around him.)

  TELEMACHUS

  (Looking at his father, then at CLIA, who has begun to cut up vegetables again, then at EUMAEUS, who is still at his post)

  You aren’t going to be a beggar again? Aren’t we going to fight?

  ULYSSES

  In our own way. And at our own time. Relax, Telemachus. Try to imagine the touching little scene being played down at the stream, right now. They are still there, Eumaeus?

  EUMAEUS

  Still there. A lot of talking’s going on.

  ULYSSES

  Eryx is spinning a good story—I wish I could hear him. He is persuading some half-wit to take the hill road into the village.

  TELEMACHUS

  And Philetius will ambush him!

  ULYSSES

  You see, I didn’t trust Eryx so much. He didn’t believe my story altogether. But he will, when his man doesn’t come back with a report on the harbour. He’ll believe then that Ulysses is in control of the island.

  CLIA

  Eryx may send more than one man to scout the harbour.

  ULYSSES

  He may. But that would leave him shorthanded for sailing our boat to the mainland.

  TELEMACHUS

  He’s going to take our boat? Oh, Jupiter!

  (He starts for the door.)

  ULYSSES

  Stay here, boy!

  TELEMACHUS

  I wouldn’t let them see me watching them.

  ULYSSES

  Stay here and forget about it. You’ve a lot to learn about fighting, haven’t you? Battles can be won by courage, but wars are won with brains. Remember that. And remember, too, that a man’s a fool who starts a war and doesn’t win it. What kind of hero is he then? So wait. That’s the first thing you learn in the army—there’s always plenty of waiting to do.

  CLIA

  But Eryx is clever; he might—

  ULYSSES

  Clever?

  (He laughs.)

  There’s a point where astuteness makes a full circle and meets stupidity. The greatest fools I ever met were those who prided themselves on their cleverness. Let me tell you of the Trojans when they laughed at Cassandra’s warning about the Wooden Horse—

  (But the door to the men’s quarters is opened, and HOMER comes into the Hall.)

  HOMER

  Really, a most remarkable thing! I could swear a man entered my room, entered it silently, not even begging my pardon, crossed to the window, and jumped out. And when I rose, and went to look—nothing. Nothing to be seen. Except quiet fields and sleeping trees, and the waves rolling in to pound themselves to pieces against the cliffs.

  (He crosses to the fireplace.)

  You don’t believe me? I assure you the man seemed as real as you do now. Yet, I stood there at the window and looked and he had—he had melted into air, into thin air.

  CLIA

  You must have been dreaming.

  HOMER

  Dreaming? Perhaps... We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep... Hm! I rather like that. I forgive the man, if he can stir up such thoughts to keep me company.

  (To ULYSSES)

  When we are old, our thoughts are our friends.

  ULYSSES

  Then we’d better choose them carefully. A man is marked by the company he keeps.

  (AMARYLLIS strolls in, carrying a large basket of figs and a respectable-sized pot of honey.)

  CLIA

  (Watching AMARYLLIS)

  Indeed he is.

  AMARYLLIS

  There!

  (She dumps the basket and pot on the table.)

  Figs. Honey. And that’s my job done for the day.

  CLIA

  I need some—

  AMARYLLIS

  It’s my night off. The sun is just about to set.

  HOMER

  (Goes over to the mark eryx had made on the floor, now lying in the shadow)

  The men are late. See—they haven’t kept their threat!

  (He points to the mark, and smiles all around.)

  AMARYLLIS

  There’s a dance in the village tonight, but no one will take me. Hey, what about you, traveller? Like to go with me? We could borrow a donkey and—

  CLIA

  No one will take you to the dance, eh? Have you been talking to those men again?

  AMARYLLIS

  I wasn’t talking. I only asked Lucas to wait and give me a lift. But he rode off, and left me standing at the stream. And Eryx turned on me, and I—

  HOMER

  (Excited)

  One moment! All this happened down at the stream? When?

  AMARYLLIS

  Just before I brought in the figs.

  (To CLIA)

  But I wasn’t talking to them.

  CLIA

  It wasn’t for lack of trying. Just you wait and I’ll—

  (She drops her work and rushes toward AMARYLLIS, who escapes quickly into the yard. She returns to the table, where she has been working.)

  HOMER

  Clia, you were much too quick. There’s something important
in what she says, if only we could understand it. This Lucas person—riding into the village?

  ULYSSES

  The sacrificial goat.

  HOMER

  I beg your pardon?

  ULYSSES

  He’d better take his coat. The evenings turn cold, round here.

  HOMER

  Your blood is thin, my man. Look, while you’ve been sitting here, something has developed. These men, or some of them at least, have returned; but they don’t come to the Hall! And one of them goes riding off toward the village. Now don’t you see—

  ULYSSES

  Did you get any sleep this afternoon?

  HOMER

  No. I was too busy thinking about my poem. But don’t change the subject! What has been happening here? I felt it as soon as I came into the Hall: I sensed a—a difference. You are all too peaceful, too relaxed.

  ULYSSES

  I’m not changing any subject. You needed sleep; you didn’t get it. Result: nervous and—

  HOMER

  (Testily)

  I am not!

  EUMAEUS

  (From his lookout post at the door)

  If it was all too peaceful for your taste, you can be happy now. Melas and his friends are coming down the mountainside.

  ULYSSES

  How many?

  EUMAEUS

  ...Four, I make it. Four riders, and five horses.

  CLIA

  (As HOMER hurries over to the door to look toward the mountain, too)

  Where’s the fifth man? Did they leave him—?

  (She silences her lips with her hands.)

  HOMER

  (Watching the distance)

  Only four men, most definitely.

  (ULYSSES lifts a charred piece of wood from the hearth as he rises, and, with a smile for CLIA, he scores one stroke on the wall. He throws the piece of wood into the hearth again, and takes his seat.)

  HOMER

  (Nervous, as he still watches the distant riders)

  I don’t like this... Keep calm, Eumaeus! Keep calm!

  EUMAEUS

  Me?

  HOMER

  My advice is to forget these men and concentrate on something pleasant, like a—like a sunset. Look at that one, Eumaeus, just beginning. How would you describe the sun? I see it as a winged chariot moving slowly, surely, on its way to the stables of night.

  EUMAEUS

  It’s a wheel of cheese to me, and I wish I had a wedge of it. I haven’t eaten since morning.

  HOMER

  Look at it! It never betrays our trust... What if we were to waken tomorrow morning, and never see it again? Bright sun, would I were steadfast as thou art...

  (He wanders, speaking, into the courtyard.)

  EUMAEUS

  (Watching him)

  Now, when I go around talking to myself, people say I’m crazy. It’s useful, being a poet.

  ULYSSES

  (Quickly, to TELEMACHUS)

  Don’t let Homer wander around. Eryx might think he is spying. Bring him back here, somehow.

  (He watches TELEMACHUS follow HOMER, worriedly.)

  I’m afraid Homer won’t approve of my way of fighting any more than Telemachus.

  CLIA

  (Who has been filling the wine vases from a barrel of wine, all this time)

  But Homer has seen you fight before.

  ULYSSES

  No. He has seen only the results of the way I fight.

  CLIA

  Well, he always admired them.

  ATHENA

  (Comes to life, and moves over to the frowning ULYSSES)

  Sleep is what he needs, isn’t it? If he woke up only after the fighting was all over, then he could admire the results once more. Why add to his worries? He’s having trouble enough with Penelope in his poem. Besides, you don’t want the major poet of Greece to be killed in your house. Let him sleep, and stay out of harm’s way.

  ULYSSES

  (To CLIA, as ATHENA touches his shoulder and then walks out through the nearest wall)

  What’s that you’re mixing with the wine? Something to strengthen it?

  (He rises to go over to the table, to watch her work.)

  CLIA

  If you’d let me add enough, I’d have them all stretched snoring on the floor. You could polish them off, then.

  ULYSSES

  That isn’t killing. That’s murder. When I do lift a sword, I fight fair.

  CLIA

  But the odds against you are heavy.

  ULYSSES

  I’ll take them. The only odds I refuse are the impossible ones.

  CLIA

  All right, all right... I was only trying to help.

  ULYSSES

  Then offer Homer a drink. He needs to catch up on his sleep. You are sure that stuff won’t harm him?

  (He points to the small flask that CLIA is using very carefully on the wine vases.)

  CLIA

  Harm?

  (She laughs.)

  It’s helped Penelope through many a bad night. I used to—

  (She breaks off as HOMER and TELEMACHUS enter the Hall.)

  HOMER

  (To TELEMACHUS)

  I know the evening dew is treacherous, but I don’t think it is liable to fall for a few more hours. The sun isn’t even down yet!

  (To CLIA)

  I believe this young man is afraid I’ll meet with an accident, out there.

  ULYSSES

  Could be.

  (He wanders around, restlessly.)

  HOMER

  But Eryx and his friends are much too busy carrying water down to the Bay to worry about me. Now why should they be doing that?

  ULYSSES

  Perhaps they think the tide’s too low.

  (He laughs uproariously.)

  HOMER

  And if I tell you that Melas and his friends are almost here, will you laugh that off, too? And do you know what that extra horse is carrying? A dead man.

  ULYSSES

  Then I’d say they had run into a spot of trouble. Perhaps met one of your friends, up in that forest.

  (He sits on the bench by the table, and faces outward, his back against the table’s edge, to watch the door.)

  HOMER

  One of my friends?

  ULYSSES

  One of those boars you keep talking about.

  HOMER

  (Losing his impatience, suddenly interested)

  Ah, that reminds me—I wanted to tell you my version of a boar hunt. You’re a hunter, so you could set me right if I’ve some details wrong. But what a pity!

  ULYSSES

  What’s the pity?

  HOMER

  We haven’t time!

  ULYSSES

  What’s a better time than this? Eumaeus—leave that door, now. Come in! Relax!

  HOMER

  You mean—waiting here, we could—perhaps you are right. Noman, I believe I owe you an apology.

  (He starts moving to the fireplace. ULYSSES yawns and stretches; TELEMACHUS, glumly, comes forward to the table; EUMAEUS follows him.)

  Or perhaps I don’t... Anyway, while we wait, we can concentrate on something more pleasant than a mob of squabbling savages.

  ULYSSES

  Go ahead, go ahead!

  HOMER

  Now, that’s hardly the frame of mind for listening—

  ULYSSES

  I said I’d hear you out, didn’t I?

  HOMER

  (Taking a seat by the fireplace, and facing the table)

  Well, don’t interrupt me—let me finish the poem before you start criticising. Now, you must imagine my harp on my knee. But at the moment, I shan’t sing: I must keep my voice fresh for this evening.

  ULYSSES

  (Genuinely angry)

  You mean to sing at the banquet? For that bunch of cutthroats?

  HOMER

  I shall sing for Penelope. It may be the last song I shall sing, the last she will hear.

  (ULYSSES is
silenced. HOMER’s voice loses its emotion and becomes practical again.)

  I strike a few chords in a minor key; then I slide into a major chord—the Odysseus motif, which reappears throughout the poem.

  ULYSSES

  (Impatiently, his eyes watching the door)

  Yes, yes...

  HOMER

  (Begins his narration. He is impressive and noble. His audience, who have been watching the door, gradually turn their eyes toward the poet. They sit or stand quite motionless, in the gathering dusk.)

  As soon as early dawn appeared,

  The rosy-fingered dawn, touching earth into life,

  They all set out for the hunt—the hounds and the men.

  And with them went the young Odysseus.

  Up the green hill they climbed, steeply to wind-swept ridges

  Furred with trees.

  Then the baying of hounds, the trampling of men’s feet

  Came to the boar as he slept in still shadow,

  And he sprang from his lair, his crest bristling,

  His cunning eyes aflame; and he stood, waiting, motionless,

  But Odysseus saw him, and moved in swiftly, his spear upraised.

  CLIA

  (Quickly)

  It was a knife he held.

  HOMER

  It was a spear! Nobody could hunt a wild boar with a knife!

  (ULYSSES smiles and shakes his head. And then looks at the door as he hears the sounds of horses, coming nearer. HOMER resumes, and TELEMACHUS, EUMAEUS, and CLIA watch him.)

  Then the boar twisted sideways, ripped deep with his tusk, driving a gash above the hunter’s knee.

  CLIA

  (In quiet exasperation)

  Below his knee.

  HOMER

  (Gives her an angry look)

  But Odysseus aimed well, and struck with all his force—

  (Now there are sounds from the courtyard, outside, of men and horses.)