Home is the Hunter (7 page)

(
EUMAEUS
grins, and tries to bow, but is hindered by the blanket. It is still unwinding.)

EUMAEUS

(Tugging the blanket back in place)

Sweet suffering Jupiter!

PENELOPE

(Watching him)

You’re nervous, Eumaeus. You’re just a little afraid of me, today. Why? What are you hiding?

EUMAEUS

Hiding? Nothing, Penelope—

(He opens his arms; the blanket starts unwinding, and he clutches it again.)

Nothing except myself.

PENELOPE

(Suddenly serious)

If you want to lie to me, I suppose you can. I’ve no claim on your loyalty—I’ve only fed you and given you a job so that you could at least earn an honest living.

EUMAEUS

It was Ulysses who gave me that.

PENELOPE

(Angry)

And who has kept you in it? The villagers wanted you driven away. You know that.

EUMAEUS

Yes, they’d have driven me away, all right. But they never offered to chase away those young toughs downstairs, did they? No, they might have been hurt doing that!

PENELOPE

Don’t sidetrack me, Eumaeus. The village has been terrorised too, and you know it... I’m angry with you. You’ve betrayed my trust.

EUMAEUS

I’ve never done that!

PENELOPE

You’ve taught my son—

EUMAEUS

No, never! I’ve taught him nothing. Except what I’ve become. Once, I was a prince, and look at me now... Women, wine, and dice. That’s a sobering lesson for any lad. And that’s all I’ve taught him. I swear it, Penelope!

PENELOPE

You’ve taught him to deceive me! Something has happened this morning. He knows. You know. And you are both hiding it from me.

EUMAEUS

(Relieved)

We’re hiding nothing, nothing to worry about.

PENELOPE

You’re lying to me, Eumaeus. And even with all your years of practice, you aren’t doing it very well. What do you think I am? A complete fool? That story about a fishing rod! Why, only three days ago, he was complaining that there were no fish left in our streams.

(
EUMAEUS
’
ugly face is lined with worry.)

Why are you sending him to your hut? Why is he so eager to go? Why, Eumaeus,
why
?

(
EUMAEUS
shrugs his shoulders.)

There’s only
one
person in this world who could make you keep silent like this. And that’s Ulysses. Is it
Ulysses
who waits in your hut?

EUMAEUS

I—I—There’s no one in the hut, except an old beggar who needed a place to rest.

PENELOPE

(Standing over the hapless
EUMAEUS
,
who tries to avoid her eyes)

A beggar... A beggar?... It couldn’t be. Or is it? Is it Ulysses?

(Her voice rises with joy and amazement. She claps her hands, then she turns back to
EUMAEUS
,
her voice low, intense.)

Oh, Eumaeus—you wouldn’t lie to me about this? Oh, Eumaeus, you wouldn’t...

EUMAEUS

(Frightened)

I said
nothing
about Ulysses!

PENELOPE

No... You didn’t, did you? You are not supposed to talk about him? Is that it?

EUMAEUS

I—I—

PENELOPE

The truth, Eumaeus! Or I’ll go down to your hut, myself.

EUMAEUS

But the men would follow you—

PENELOPE

Why worry about that, if they’ll only find a poor old beggar? Or is it Ulysses they’ll find?

(She relents as she sees how miserable
EUMAEUS
is. She calms her voice.)

All right. Let’s put it this way. Penelope has been making wild guesses. How wild are they?

(She waits tensely,
EUMAEUS
stares unhappily at the ground.)

I only asked a question about Penelope. Is she wrong in her guesses?
Is
she?

EUMAEUS

No.

PENELOPE

(In sudden joy)

Oh! Dear Athena, kind, sweet Goddess of Reason—you’ve won, you’ve won. You’ve brought him home.

(Almost weeping)

Thank you, thank you.

EUMAEUS

And I’m a dead man before sunset—for answering a question that only dealt with Penelope.

PENELOPE

No, I’ll keep this secret, too... But why didn’t Ulysses come here? Why all this mystery?

(She is suddenly hurt.)

If this is supposed to be a joke, it isn’t funny one bit.

EUMAEUS

If Ulysses had returned—now I’m not saying he did
—if
he had returned,
if
he had heard that a lot of men were in possession here, and
if
he was alone, then what would you expect him to do?

PENELOPE

(Shocked)

He’s alone?

EUMAEUS

Now I only said that if he
were
to return, he might be—

PENELOPE

How can he drive out eleven men, by himself?

(She has a sudden idea, begins to smile.)

He must have a plan... Yes, that’s it. He’s planning something.

EUMAEUS

Why bother? They are leaving, aren’t they? That will save him a lot of trouble.

PENELOPE

Yes, it would, wouldn’t it?

(Annoyed)

Really! He decides to come back at last, and he expects to walk in here and find everything perfectly normal. Why, he could never even guess the trouble
we’ve
had.

(Angry, now)

He might even begin to think my story was just the usual female exaggeration!

EUMAEUS

All he wants is peace and quiet. He’s had enough excitement—

(The door is thrown violently open.
MELAS
,
one of the more ardent suitors, thrusts
CLIA
aside, and enters. He’s a powerful, handsome, dark-haired man of about thirty. He stands facing
PENELOPE
.)

PENELOPE

Melas! How dare—

MELAS

So you let the pig-man visit you. But
we
have got to stay down in the hall.

PENELOPE

That was your promise! If you break it, you break my promise too. Get out of here, or I’ll slash this work to pieces.

(She picks up the embroidery knife.)

MELAS

I came to tell you we’re moving on. There isn’t enough food left to feed the servants we had with us. We’ve sent them ahead of us to the harbour. The ship sails at noon.

(He looks over his shoulder at the open door, lowers his voice, and comes nearer to
PENELOPE
.)

I’ll be back. I don’t waste three years of my life.

PENELOPE

The others may have the same idea. They’ll slip back here, one by one...

MELAS

I can deal with them singly.

PENELOPE

And are you so sure that they will come back singly, just to oblige you? Or even that
you’ll
get back here, first?

CLIA

Let them leave, Penelope. Let them leave!

(She watches
PENELOPE
anxiously, and a little puzzled with this talk.
PENELOPE
walks around the embroidery frame, looks at it, drops the knife, and begins to laugh.
CLIA
exclaims)

Penelope!

PENELOPE

(As
MELAS
comes over to the frame to see what amuses her there)

So you were going away, were you!

MELAS

It’s almost finished! Why didn’t you tell me?

(His voice is angry,
PENELOPE
blocks the embroidery from his sight, as she looks up at him smilingly.)

PENELOPE

But didn’t I?

CLIA

Penelope! Are you insane?

MELAS

(Stares at her, and then begins to laugh)

You have your own brand of humour, haven’t you?

ERYX

(He speaks from the doorway, suddenly, and everyone swings round in surprise to see he has been listening, lounging against the doorpost, his hand on the knife at his belt.
ERYX
is another of the suitors, about thirty-five, red-haired, lean, crafty.)

Which you were going to share with us, Melas? But of course you were...

PENELOPE

(Moving to the centre of the room)

Leave, both of you! Before we have the whole mob up in my room.

ERYX

(Soothingly)

I only came to keep an eye on him.

PENELOPE

And who is keeping an eye on you, Eryx?

ERYX

Now, now, Penelope. You don’t seem to trust us.

(But he gives a quick look over his shoulder.)

Yet, here’s one you
can
trust.

(He taps himself on the chest.)

See, I haven’t put a foot inside your room, have I? And all I’d like to know is when that work of art will be finished. Today, tomorrow, or the next day?

PENELOPE

(Silencing
CLIA
with a gesture)

The next day.

ERYX

Hear that, Melas, old pal? Don’t tell me that you distrust the lady’s word. Come on, leave her in peace.

(His voice, when he is addressing
MELAS
,
is always hard, biting, sarcastic.)

MELAS

(Moves away from the embroidery frame)

A couple of days should finish it.

ERYX

I’ll take Penelope’s word for it.

(To
PENELOPE
,
his voice now dripping politeness, and yet all the more menacing)

At your service. Always. You’ll remember that?

(He bows, and then leaves.)

PENELOPE

(To
MELAS
)

Now it’s your turn to show me how noble at heart you really are.

MELAS

(Pointing to the embroidery frame)

Tell me, what’s wrong with it?

PENELOPE

Aren’t you leaving? Eryx will now be halfway toward the Hall. He won’t like it if—

MELAS

What’s wrong?

(He still points.)

PENELOPE

Wrong?

MELAS

It’s as rough as a five-day beard.

PENELOPE

Oh... that! Isn’t it natural that I have been thinking of Ulysses, and that I’ve wept? Tears don’t help embroidery. But that’s all over now, all over.

(She smiles to
EUMAEUS
,
who looks nervously back, while
CLIA
is horrified.)

MELAS

You’re worth waiting for. A woman who can weep for a man long after he is dead is a wife worth having.

PENELOPE

I wish Ulysses could have heard that.

(She looks at
EUMAEUS
again.)

EUMAEUS

It’s just as well he didn’t hear talk like that from a good-for-nothing drunk. And you listening to it!

PENELOPE

Ulysses jealous? Why, he never was. But then, I never gave him cause to be... Was that my mistake?

MELAS

(Who has advanced on
EUMAEUS
,
meanwhile, and forced him to retreat behind the embroidery frame for safety)

Who’s a good-for-nothing drunk? Get back to your pigs, or you’ll find yourself skewered over a fire with an apple stuck in your mouth.

(
MELAS
has drawn his sword, but
EUMAEUS
picks up the knife from the table and faces the advancing man.)