Being There

by David Malouf

  (Exit HIPPOLYTUS and his HUNTSMEN)

  OLD SERVANT:

  Oh the folly of young men. What an example! Queen Aphrodite, with humble heart, as befits your power, I pay reverence to you. Forgive this youth his recklessness, the rashness of young blood that speaks these blasphemies. Forget what you have heard today from this young man’s lips. Give him time to learn. You are a god. Surely the quality of gods is to be wiser than we are, we men.

  The gods grant you good fortune, my young master. And make you wise.

  (Exit. Enter WOMEN OF TROEZEN)

  CHORUS OF WOMEN (speaking singly):

  You know our local spring.

  There’s a freshet that gushes

  clean out of the rock,

  women go there to dip

  their pitchers. My friend

  was there, plunging

  scarlet and blue cloth in the icy water,

  spreading her wash

  in the sun on sun-baked stones. She was the first

  to tell me of the Queen.

  How Phaedra, sick unto death,

  shuts herself up

  in a darkened room, lies pining,

  groaning, her face

  muffled in a shawl.

  This is the third day now

  that her lips have refused bread –

  bread, the life-giving

  gift of our mother earth. She feeds

  on silence; will not name

  the fever that consumes her.

  Calm waters are what

  she longs for, and death, that dark kingdom,

  out of reach of all storms.

  But this is madness.

  It is not Hecate

  possesses her, or Pan. No Bacchic fury

  drives her to dance,

  wild-haired and naked,

  by night on the mountainside.

  Has she neglected

  some offering to the gods? Oil or honey

  for Artemis, the huntress?

  The power of the gods can reach out

  to the farthest shore. No island

  in the salt sea is beyond

  the shadow of their wrath.

  Or Theseus, her husband –

  perhaps he is unfaithful

  to her, has taken some slave-girl to his bed.

  Or a ship has come from Crete

  with bad news of home – of her parents,

  Minos and Pasiphae.

  Are your kindred in trouble,

  far off there, in Crete,

  that you writhe in anguish

  and make your room a cell?

  Oh, but the lot of women

  is hard. Our life

  is helplessness and terror

  at the pain we must bear.

  I have felt in my womb

  that fear, that stabbing,

  and cried out in my pain, Oh Artemis

  of the arrows, helper

  of women, be my aid! And always,

  the gods be praised, have felt

  the balm of her touch.

  But look, the Queen’s nurse is bringing her

  out into the air. They are at the door.

  How pale she looks. How wasted.

  (Enter PHAEDRA supported by NURSE. Attendants bring in a bed for her)

  NURSE:

  Oh dear me, but sickness is a wearisome business. Sickness of body, sickness of mind. Here is the light you’ve been crying out for. Here is the air. And now? I know. In a minute you’ll have changed your mind and want the dark again. The minute you have a thing there’s something else you want. It’s hard work dealing with the sick. I’d rather be sick myself, I think, than have to deal with one of them. Hard work for the heart as well as the hands. Well, life is a misery, that’s the truth of it. But this life is all we’ve got. That other one – down there in the underworld – is a mystery to us, a fable, an old wives’ tale. We must cling to what we’ve got.

  PHAEDRA:

  Lift me up, raise my head a little, old nurse. All my strength has melted. Look at my arm. See how slack it is? They’re beautiful, aren’t they beautiful, my arms? Oh this veil, it’s so heavy! Take it off. Let my hair loose.

  NURSE:

  Child, child, try to lie still. You’ll feel easier if you don’t toss about so much. We all have sufferings to bear. What makes heartache easier is patience.

  PHAEDRA:

  Oh, if only I could wet my mouth with a drop of clear spring water. If I could lie out there under the poplars, and cool my body in the grass.

  NURSE:

  (lowering her voice) My lady, you must control yourself. There are others here. Do you want them to hear you?

  PHAEDRA:

  Carry me to the mountains. I want the mountains. Mountain air, that’s what I need. To be up there among the pine trees where huntsmen gallop. How I long to hear the hounds in full cry. To raise a spear and send it whistling through the air.

  NURSE:

  My lady, for heaven’s sake! What have hounds got to do with it? Or huntsmen? If you want clear water, there’s the spring in the palace yard. Now stop being difficult! What have mountains got to do with it?

  PHAEDRA:

  Oh Artemis, Lady of the salt lake, you lover of bold horsemen. Oh to ride as you do with a wild stallion between my thighs.

  NURSE:

  Goodness, what next! First it’s hunting wild beasts under the pines, now it’s salt lakes and stallions. Are you out of your wits, child?

  PHAEDRA:

  (suddenly coming back to reality) What have I said, what have I been saying? Madness – take no notice of it. A god has touched me. Madness! Dear nurse, cover my head. I’m ashamed, I’m ashamed, and so unhappy. What agony to come to myself again and know the things I’ve been saying. Better say nothing, feel nothing. And die.

  NURSE:

  There, child, there. You’re covered again. When will I be covered at last, tucked up under the earth? I’ve seen too much, that’s my trouble. But this much I’ve learned. Best keep to yourself what you feel deepest. Oh, it’s hard to see another’s pain and have no way of curing it! But you’re right. To know nothing, feel nothing – that’s the best way.

  CHORUS:

  Old woman, you are the Queen’s nurse, I think.

  NURSE:

  So? That doesn’t mean I know anything. You know as much as I do about all this.

  CHORUS:

  But it distresses us to see the state she’s in.

  NURSE:

  I told you, I know nothing. It’s no good coming to me.

  CHORUS:

  Poor creature, how pale she looks!

  That’s not surprising. For three days now

  she’s eaten nothing. Does she mean to die?

  She means to die, that’s what she means. She’s

  starving herself to death. But how strange

  that Theseus does nothing to stop her. Can’t he see

  how pale she is? He’s away

  just now, he’s gone to consult

  the oracle at Delphi.

  (to NURSE) But you, can’t you make her speak?

  Press her. Try a trick or two. Anything to find

  the source of her sufferings.

  NURSE:

  Oh I’ve tried all that – your tricks. They don’t work. But you can bear witness, friends: no one has stood by her as I do in her time of need. (to PHAEDRA) Now, child, suppose we forget all this nonsense about hounds and huntsmen. Let me cool your brow. See? No more frowning, no more wandering. I was wrong to pry into your secrets. From now on I’ll be more prudent. (pause) So: is this sickness one you can speak openly about? There are women here who have herbs that might help you. Or a doctor might help. Could you tell your trouble to a doctor, my love? – (to CHORUS) You see? Not a word. (to PHAEDRA) My child, my sweetie, say something. For your old nurse’s sake. One word. You see, it’s no use. We’re as far from an answer as we ever were. (to PHAEDRA) Oh, I know you, my lady, I know how stubborn you are. But think of your little sons. Who will t
hey turn to when their mother’s no longer here? What sort of life will they lead in the palace? The Amazon’s son will go lording it over them. That Hippol –

  PHAEDRA:

  No, no!

  NURSE:

  Ah. Does that touch you then?

  PHAEDRA:

  Nurse, I beg you. Never speak that name –

  NURSE:

  Well! So you do have a tongue after all, you’re not out of your wits. But you won’t save either your own life or your children’s.

  PHAEDRA:

  I love my children, I do, I do love them. But can’t you see, nurse, I’m drowning. I’m over my head in despair.

  NURSE:

  Phaedra, you can tell me, you know you can tell your old nurse anything. Aren’t I your old nursie? Now what is it? Is it some crime you think you’ve committed?

  PHAEDRA:

  Crime? No – in the flesh, no. But here in my heart – Oh nurse, don’t look at me, don’t look. I am defiled!

  NURSE:

  What? What do you mean? What has defiled you? Or is it –? You mean some man, some – enemy?

  PHAEDRA:

  No, no enemy, he did not mean to destroy me.

  NURSE:

  Theseus. Is it Theseus you’re talking about?

  PHAEDRA:

  No, not him. Oh if only I were as guiltless towards him, poor man, as he is towards –

  NURSE:

  Who then? Who?

  PHAEDRA:

  What are you doing? Let go of me!

  NURSE:

  No, not this time. I will not let go till you’ve told me. What is this uncommitted crime that is dragging you to the grave? Nothing you have to tell could be worse for old nursie than to see her baby suffer like this.

  PHAEDRA:

  I am trying, don’t you see? – I am struggling to find a way for honour to free itself from shame. Oh nurse, nurse!

  NURSE:

  There there, my chickadee, you just stop all this. I was right to make you tell. There’s no way of keeping these things hid. It’s better to get them out.

  PHAEDRA:

  Now, please, let go of me.

  NURSE:

  No, my love, not till I’ve heard the whole of it. I won’t ask again. You tell it in your own way. When you’re ready. – So?

  PHAEDRA:

  Oh my poor mother. How terrible you were, how pitiful, when the cruel goddess possessed you and you shamed yourself, gave your fair body up to the beast’s hot flanks, its streaming muzzle –

  NURSE:

  (puzzled) You mean (lowering her voice) – that business with the bull? Is that what you’re harking back to?

  PHAEDRA:

  And you, Ariadne, my poor sister, how the goddess made you suffer!

  NURSE:

  But these are old tales. I thought we’d decided to forget them. Why are you dragging them up again?

  PHAEDRA:

  They were cursed, poor women. Love destroyed them. First my mother, Pasiphae, then Ariadne my sister. Now my turn has come.

  NURSE:

  Honestly, child, you frighten me. You did even when you were little. What do you mean, your turn?

  PHAEDRA:

  It has come round to me, that’s all. There’s nothing new in all this. I am to be the third of them. The thing that destroyed my mother and my sister has come to me. Oh I want to say it, I want to tell you, but I can’t. If only you could say it for me! – Nurse, dear nurse, when they say that one is in love, what does it mean? What is love?

  NURSE:

  My pet, my sweet one. It is the sweetest thing in the world. Oh, and the most painful.

  PHAEDRA:

  Painful, yes, I’ve discovered the pain. But the sweetness?

  NURSE:

  Ah, so that’s it! Love. That old story. Who is it then? Tell nurse. Tell old nursie –

  PHAEDRA:

  But it is him. The Amazon’s son! Didn’t you –

  NURSE:

  Hippolytus? Your stepson, Hippolytus?

  PHAEDRA:

  You’re the one that said it. You spoke his name. It wasn’t me!

  NURSE:

  Oh my child, what are you saying – you’ll break my heart. Oh, friends, how can I bear it? – No no, let me alone now – I’m dying, this will kill me. I know this woman, I’ve known her since she was – She’s strong-willed, she always has been, but her heart is as pure as – Ah, I see who is behind this. Aphrodite, I see you. You’re the one. It’s you who have brought this shame on her, and on me, and on all this house. We are fighting more than our own darkness here. This is her hand. The pure do not love what is shameful, not of their own will. But when she fixes her claws in them –

  CHORUS:

  Did you hear that cry? The pain that was in it?

  The Queen’s cry – and hers too, the old Nurse.

  I’d rather die than suffer such despair.

  Oh Phaedra, how can you bear

  such sorrow, such shame? How could you

  drag it out for all to see,

  this monster that moves like a shadow on the house,

  and on you and all of us?

  The Queen of Love was the star you followed.

  She has betrayed you.

  I see now, I see what all this will come to,

  poor Princess, how it will end!

  PHAEDRA:

  Women of Troezen, for each one of you is a woman, as I am. Now listen to how I have been trying to reason the thing out.

  There are others, many others before now, whose lives have been shattered, I’ve lain awake at night thinking of them, going over their story. It isn’t only those who are evil, who have some flaw, who go down to misfortune. It comes also to those who are wise. To those who are good. The fact is, we know what is right but we do not do it. Because we are spiritually lazy, some of us, or blind; or because more than to be good we want pleasure, and the world, you know, is full of pleasures, and we want them, we –

  Listen, when love first struck at my heart, shook my blood, I decided to hide it, to suffer in silence, say nothing – most of all, never to speak his name. Self-control, that’s what I thought would save me. And when it didn’t, when I knew I could not fight this raging in my heart, in my blood, I made up my mind to die. That is why I refused all food. The thing I longed for, the pleasure, was wrong, I knew that; so was the longing itself. I knew too that as a woman, frailty was just what was expected of me, that I was expected to give in and be false to my husband, and to myself, because that is the way we women are. Well, I am not like that, and never could be. I don’t understand how women can face themselves if they say one thing and then do another in the dark.

  Aphrodite was born from the sea. She too is pure. If we act in the dark, the very walls should cry out against us. I am dying because I can do nothing else. So that my husband, Theseus, will not be disgraced in the eyes of the world. So that my young sons may walk upright through the streets and not have to blush when their mother’s name is spoken. Only if everything that touches us is upright and pure can we face life boldly. As I do now. As I face death.

  CHORUS:

  It is true, she speaks the truth,

  this woman, this Queen. Virtue shines forth

  and is beautiful, wherever it appears.

  Women too have their honour.

  Before all things we value our good name.

  NURSE:

  My lady, my little one, Phaedra, when I first heard all this, when you first unburdened your heart to your old nursie, I was terrified, I too wanted to die. Well, that was just the first shock and it was foolish of me. On second thought – and you know, second thoughts are often the best ones. On second thought –.

  The fact is, all this is not so extraordinary, just because it is happening to you. You are in love. Aphrodite has turned her fierce gaze upon you. So? What is so strange about that? Aren’t there a thousand women, at any moment – right here and now – who are in the same predicament? Does that mean they should throw t
heir lives away? Just because love has come to them? What would the world come to if every woman who was in love took a knife and did away with herself? When love comes, when Aphrodite, in all the fullness of her power, turns her smile upon us, who can resist? Who should resist? She is gentle with those who yield to her. But those she finds proud, who set themselves above her, above this common thing we all share – well, she takes them in her claws and shakes them like rags, she drags them in the dirt. Love is what we were born for. Just that. For love. Everything on earth, every man and woman, every creature that has life, springs from the same sweet need – that desire, that pricking on, that hungering for life that is her great gift to us. Even the gods know how to yield to her greater power. And you – do you think you are stronger than the gods? Or purer? Do you set yourself above them? Above all the rest of us? Above nature? I’ll tell you the truth, my darling – I’ve seen the world and I know what I’m talking about. The best husbands, the good, sensible ones, they see what their wives are up to and look away – yes they do and you know it. It’s the way of the world. Now, my advice is this – no, no, you listen to your old nursie. You should yield a little to the world. To nature. To what is human. You should yield to what a god has chosen for you. Don’t you think when the goddess brought this gift to you, laid it there in your lap – that it might be blasphemous to tilt your chin up in that proud little way you’ve got and say, No, I’m too good for this world, take back your gift. You are in love. Well then, embrace it, dare what the god has willed for you. You are stricken. Well, bear the stroke. It might turn out to be a sweet one. There, I’ve had my say. (aside) – It’s no good standing back and letting these things take their course or waiting for the gods to step in and do the fixing. We women need to fix them for ourselves.

  CHORUS:

  Well, her advice is straightforward,

  I’ll say that for her. But is it good advice?

  No, Phaedra, you are right.

  The harder path – that’s the one you must take.

  But she won’t let you off lightly,

  I warn you. She knows you too well.

  That’s what you have to deal with.

  PHAEDRA:

  I’m astonished. You’re my old nurse, you brought me up. And when I come to you with my secret and say, nurse, my dear old nurse, tell me now, what should I do, how should I save my honour –