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Category Archives: drama

huli jing [act ii]

24 Tuesday Mar 2015

Posted by babylon crashing in drama

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9-tailed fox, Act II, androgyny, Chinese mythology, drama, Giraudoux, Huli Jing, Jinggu, Ondine

HULI JING: the 9-tailed fox

[a reworking of Giraudoux’s Ondine]

ACT II

Huli Jing, a 9-tailed fox-spirit.
Jinggu, a Wu-Shaman.
Niu and Qui (Huli Jing’s human parents)
The Voices of Male and Female Forest-Spirits; the Young Girl With No Eyes; Old Man With Ivy in His Hair (various forest-demons and gods)

][][

Nighttime in a roadside inn
somewhere in mythological China.
All the characters are in the exact
same places as before.

JINGGU
And then that happened.

NIU
Lord Buddha knows, madam, he won’t listen to anyone whenever he gets into one of his moods. It’s always, “These damn mortals this” and “These damn mortals that” and “Wait until the Queen of the huli-jing hears about this” –

JINGGU
Huli-jing?

QUI
Fox demons, madam.

NIU [waving her hand in the air]
Superstitious nonsense, that’s what I call it.

JINGGU
Well, shut him up in his room and refuse to feed him.

QUI
He never eats food, at least not as far as we can tell. And no door seems to actually be able to hold him.

JINGGU [shrugging]
How curious. O well, I’m still hungry. Go and fricassee another rabbit, will you?

QUI [sadly]
I’m afraid that was the last one.

JINGGU
O dear! But what about my hunger pains?

NIU
Pains, madam? We have got a salted trout, though. Qui will bring you that instead.

[Exit Qui]

NIU
I’m very sorry that he annoyed you, madam.

JINGGU
He annoyed me because he spoke the truth. We shamans are as vain as peacocks … at least the male ones are. I guess that would make me as vain as a peahen. What does a peahen have to be vain about? [Shudders.] Nasty birds. Where was I?

NIU
Vanity?

JINGGU
O yes! You know, my good innkeeper, most of my colleagues think, at least I think that they think, that just because we can talk to gods and purify invisible things in the air, that somehow it makes us better than other people.

QUI [calling from the kitchen]
I can’t find the trout anywhere, Niu, dear.

[Sighing, Niu goes out to the kitchen. For a moment nothing happens, then Jinggu gets up and attempts to dry her robes by the fire, humming to herself, “I dropped the berry in a stream/ And caught a little silver trout.” Failing at that she raises the hems and attempts to dry her thighs. Silently Huli Jing enters and comes up behind her.]

HULI JING [whispering into Jinggu’s ear]
My name’s Huli Jing.

[Jinggu, startled, drops the hems and quickly tries to smooth down her robes.]

JINGGU [turning around, embarrassed]
O! It’s you! Yes, er, Huli Jing, did you say? Ah! That’s a very pretty name, er, for a boy. Someone was just saying something about a huli-something – now what was it?

HULI JING
You’re Jinggu and I’m Huli Jing. I think those are the loveliest names in the world, don’t you?

JINGGU [humoring and slightly condescending]
Ah! But what about Huli Jing and Jinggu?

HULI JING
O, no! Jinggu must come first, she’s the mortal, she’s got to go first. Mortals are the ones who believe in us, so they give all the orders. Huli Jing will simply walk a step behind Jinggu.

JINGGU
They do? He does?

HULI JING [clapping his hands excitedly]
Yes! And he doesn’t even speak.

JINGGU
Er, Huli Jing doesn’t speak? How on earth does he manage that magic?

HULI JING [giggling]
It’s no magic! Jinggu is always a step ahead of Huli Jing: at Court – in bed – into the grave. [Suddenly ridiculously serious, peering up into Jinggu’s face.] Jinggu has to die first; it’s the natural order of things. But don’t worry, Huli Jing hates to be alone. So he’ll kill himself, too.

JINGGU
What are you talking about? Who has to die?

HULI JING
Huli Jing’s beloved, of course. Isn’t that what is suppose to happen in all the great romances?

JINGGU [sitting back down at the table]
I’ve never understood why the younger generation thinks that dying is always somehow romantic. Staying alive is much harder and proof that you have something to stick around for.

HULI JING
O, don’t worry! Huli Jing’s beloved doesn’t die immediately, of course. That would be silly. Tell me that you love me!

JINGGU
Boy, I’ve only known you a few minutes, and here you are predicting that I’m going to die? I thought that we weren’t speaking, anyway, because of the rabbit.

HULI JING
Silly rabbit. Serves it right for being so trusting. It should have kept away from mortals if it didn’t want to be part of a sacrificial ceremony. That’s what shamans do, right? Sacrifice things? Even Huli Jing? I’m trusting too, aren’t I? Now you’ll sacrifice me just like the rabbit.

JINGGU
Sacrifice? Why, for all the celestial gods, would I sacrifice you?

HULI JING
Vanity? Pride? Love?

JINGGU
Didn’t your mysterious friend out there in the dark woods warn you away from love?

HULI JING [wrinkling his nose]
Pfff. She was talking nonsense.

JINGGU
It couldn’t have been a very long conversation, you were only gone for a few minutes.

HULI JING
I’m a very fast listener when I’m afraid.

JINGGU
You’re afraid of the woods?

HULI JING
I was afraid that you might leave me while I was gone. She said that you’ll betray me.

JINGGU
How could I betray you? I’ve only just met you.

HULI JING
How could you say that you loved me?

JINGGU
I haven’t.

HULI JING
But you will. Still, she said that you weren’t beautiful, so if she can be wrong about that she can be wrong about other things, too.

JINGGU
There you go, flirting with older women. What about you, then? Should I tell you that you are handsome?

HULI JING [giggling]
O, that’s up to you … I’ll look be whatever you want me to be. I’ve always liked the word “handsome” and I’ve always liked the word “beautiful,” so either way is fine.

JINGGU
You are a very strange little boy. Did she say anything else?

HULI JING
Who?

JINGGU
Your friend.

HULI JING
She said if I kissed you, I’d be lost. I don’t know why, because I wasn’t even thinking of your lips – then.

JINGGU [startled, touches her lips with a finger]
Kiss me? Are you thinking about them now?

HULI JING
Desperately. But don’t worry, even though you’ll be kissed tonight I think it’s lovely to wait, that’s all. So that we’ll remember this time later – the time when you hadn’t kissed me.

JINGGU
My dear child –

[As Huli Jing’s fox-magic begins to work upon her Jinggu finds herself blushing and breathing harder, despite her best attempts otherwise.]

HULI JING
We’ll both remember the time when you hadn’t told me that you loved me, either. But you needn’t wait anymore. Come on, tell me. Here I am; my lips are so close to yours. Tell me.

JINGGU [blinking and trying to focus]
Do all boys your age act this way? I never know, I grew up with sisters.

HULI JING
Are all mortals as slow as you? I only want to do the right thing. Would you like it better if I sat in your lap? Then you could feel everything.

[Huli Jing climbs onto Jinggu’s lap and runs his hand inside her robes, fondling her.]

JINGGU
Look here, you’re mad! I’m old enough to be your aunt.

HULI JING
I already have an aunt and she is much older than you.

JINGGU
Then … I’ll be your younger, far prettier aunt.

[While Huli Jing kisses Jinggu’s neck and breasts an otherworldly male voice is heard outside the window.]

MALE FOREST-SPIRIT
Huli Jing!

HULI JING [turning to the window]
Shut up! Nobody asked for your opinion!

JINGGU [gasping, her head swimming]
O! I, er, who are you talking to?

HULI JING
Pfff, neighbors.

JINGGU [trying to disengage from Huli Jing, failing]
But … O! But I thought that this was the only house for miles?

HULI JING
There are spiteful gods everywhere. They’re jealous of me.

FEMALE FOREST-SPIRIT
Huli Jing!

JINGGU
They’re … they’re delightful, these voices.

HULI JING
No, they’re not, it’s just my name that you think is delightful.

[The face of the Young Girl With No Eyes appears at the window.]

YOUNG GIRL WITH NO EYES
Huli Jing!

HULI JING
Go away!

[The Young Girl vanishes.]

JINGGU
Is that the friend that you were talking about?

HULI JING
My aunt? No. [Shouting out to the woods.] You’re too late! I’m kissing her! She loves me!

[Huli Jing slides off Jinggu’s lap and disappears under her robes. The face of the Old Man appears at the window.]

OLD MAN
Huli Jing!

HULI JING [muffled]
I can’t hear you!

[The Old Man vanishes.]

HULI JING [coming up for air, shouting over his shoulder]
Anyway, it’s too late, I tasted her essence and even you know what happens then!

[A noise from the kitchen doorway is heard. Jinggu stands, drunkenly trying to rearrange her robes, with some success.]

JINGGU [feeling just how much her cheeks are glowing]
O! I! My! Me! Your parents are coming –

[Huli Jing stands while Niu and Qui enter.]

QUI
Please, madam, I don’t know how to tell you, but we seem to have lost the trout!

HULI JING [carelessly]
Yes, I know, I hid it so that you’d leave us in peace. But it’s cooking now, even as we speak.

NIU
O, you wild boy!

HULI JING [giggling]
I haven’t wasted my time, either. Jinggu is going to marry me, my dear parents! The mystical Madam Jinggu, subduer of mountain demons and purifier of the Emperor’s essence, is going to marry me!

NIU
Stop talking nonsense and help your father.

HULI JING [spinning around on one foot]
That’s right. Give me the cloth, Father, I’m going to wait on Jinggu. From now on I am her servant and she is my lady and mistress.

NIU [trying to ignore her son]
Madam, I’ve got a bottle of Mongolian wine down in the cellar, and would be very happy to offer it to you, if you’ve no objection.

HULI JING [producing a curious mirror out of thin air]
A mirror, Madam Jinggu, to comb your hair before the meal?

QUI
Wherever did you get that mirror from, Huli Jing?

HULI JING [producing a curious bowl out of thin air]
Water for your hands, my lady and mistress?

JINGGU
What a superb bowl! Even the Empress would be jealous of that.

NIU
First time we’ve seen it, madam.

HULI JING [bowing]
You shall teach me all my duties, Madam Jinggu. I must be your servant every hour of the day and night.

JINGGU
That’ll be a task in itself, I sleep very soundly.

HULI JING
O, good! Tell me how to wake you.

QUI
Huli Jing! The chop sticks!

HULI JING
O, father, you set the table yourself. Madam Jinggu is teaching me how to wake her up. Let’s see [to Jinggu] pretend that you’re asleep …

[Sighing Qui exits.]

JINGGU [sniffing the air]
How can I, with this marvelous smell of food?

HULI JING [hovering over Jinggu’s shoulder, cooing and fussing]
Wake up, little Jinggu! Coo-coo-coo! Two kisses before the break of day! One for our love and one to send you on your way.

NIU
Don’t mind him, madam. It’s only baby talk. We spoil him too much.

[Qui enters, carrying a fish on a plate and a bottle of wine.]

QUI
He’s still a child. He gets fancies. They’re cute in their own way but they mean nothing.

JINGGU [ravenously]
Now this is what I call trout!

NIU
Salted, madam.

HULI JING
I shouldn’t have woken you up! Why would I wake up someone that I love? When you’re asleep you’re all mine. I like how that sounds! But when you open your eyes you belong to the whole world. Go back to sleep, my sweet Madam Jinggu … [begins singing] “The wind is quiet, the moon is bright/ My little baby, go to sleep tonight, Sleep, dreaming sweet dreams.”

JINGGU [being offered more trout]
Well, one more fin, if you please.

HULI JING
Strange, it doesn’t look like you want to be loved. It looks like you want to be stuffed.

NIU [rolling her eyes]
O, yes, with lines like that you’ll make a fine husband, scamp!

JINGGU [mouthful]
Any port in a storm, child.

QUI
Huli Jing, dear –

NIU [to Huli Jing]
If you’d just be quiet for a moment there’s something I’d like to say.

HULI JING [stamping his foot]
I will make a wonderful husband, too! I can be everything my lady and mistress loves, everything that she dreams me to be. I’ll be her satisfaction and humbleness, her breath, her sandals. I’ll be her weeping and laughter. The pillow under her head, the food on her plate …

JINGGU
Eh?

HULI JING
Go on, darling, eat me instead!

QUI
Huli Jing, hush, your mother is trying to speak.

NIU [raising her glass]
My lady, as you are doing us the honor of spending the night under our roof –

HULI JING [whispering into Jinggu’s ear]
A hundred nights. A thousand nights.

NIU
… allow me to drink to the lord of your heart –

HULI JING [interrupting]
O, thank you, mother!

NIU
– To the most noble lord of the Court, your betrothed, the Lord Tsu Tia-Chua!

HULI JING [rising in panic, knocking the cup out of Jinggu’s hand]
What did she say? What did you say?

NIU
I’m only repeating what the lady shaman told me herself!

HULI JING
Then you’re confused! Who would ever call me Tsu Tia-Chua? It’s a terrible name!

QUI
She doesn’t mean you, dear.

HULI JING
Of course she does! I’m the lord of Jinggu’s heart. Everyone knows that!

NIU
The shaman is betrothed to Lord Tsu Tia-Chua and she’s going to marry him when she gets home. Isn’t that right, madam? Everyone knows that.

HULI JING
Then everyone are fools and liars.

NIU
Now see here, Huli Jing –

HULI JING
No! I’d rather see there. I’ve been betrayed already and my heart is still young! Wait, maybe you got it wrong. [To Jinggu.] Is there a Tsu Tia-Chua, yes or no?

JINGGU
Yes, there is. Or at any rate there was. No, he must still be alive, so there is.

HULI JING
Ha! It’s true what my auntie told me about these damn mortals! They ensnare you and entice you with their round hips and sharp nipples! They kiss your mouth until your lips bleed! They rub their fouled, earth-born hands all over your celestial flesh! And all that time they’re thinking about false men, cads and cuckolds called Tsu Tia-Chua!

JINGGU
My hands aren’t foul.

HULI JING
Yes, they are! I’ve tasted your essence and this is how you repay me? [Biting his own arm while making fox-like yip sounds.] I’m a mass of cuts and bruises. Look! [To his parents.] Look at my arm – she did that!

JINGGU [to the parents]
Your son seems a tad queer, and still –

HULI JING
“I can be everything my lady and mistress loves,” I said. “I’ll be her satisfaction and humbleness, her breath, her sandals,” I said. “I’ll be her weeping and laughter. The pillow under her head, the food on her plate,” I said. I said all that and all the time she had in her heart the love for this prattling mortal that she calls her betrothed!

JINGGU
My dear Huli Jing!

HULI JING
O, I hate you, I will piss you out of me!

NUI
Language!

JINGGU
Will you please listen –

HULI JING
O! I can see him from here, the prattling mortal, with his drooping mustache and ridiculous feet. Yes, and I can see him naked, with his plucked eyebrows and a cock no bigger than an eunuch’s!

NUI [slapping the table]
Shame on you for speaking so rudely in front of our guest!

JINGGU
Huli Jing, if you would just listen to me –

HULI JING
Don’t touch me! I’m going to go hibernate for a thousand years!

[Huli Jing opens the door. It’s pelting rain. The trees moan.]

JINGGU [rising, chop sticks in hand]
But I don’t love Tsu Tia-Chua anymore.

HULI JING
There, you see! Mortals betray mortals, even the ones that they claim to love. My poor parents are red-faced at your shameful conduct.

NIU
Don’t you believe him, my lady!

HULI JING [to Niu]
If you don’t send this horrible person away at this very moment I’ll never come back! [Pausing.] What did you just say?

JINGGU
I said, “I don’t love Lord Tsu Tia-Chua anymore.”

HULI JING
Liar. Good-bye.

JINGGU
What? Again?

[Huli Jing vanishes into the night.]

[End of Act II]

][][

notes:

In ancient times, the land lay covered in forests,
where, from ages long past, dwelt the spirits of the gods.

– Hayao Miyazaki, Princess Mononoke (1997)

It’s odd how that, when telling a love story, it’s easy to attribute human emotions to non-human things.

When I began this project I originally thought of Huli Jing as a Manic Pixie Dream Boy; that is, one of those one-dimensional blokes whose only role is to patiently counter all of the heroine’s shyness/ stubbornness/ aggressiveness/ whatever-the-audience-feels-is-unattractive-in-women, at the same time while appreciating all her many quirks and helping her learn, “a very important lesson” about love.

Of course, since Huli Jing isn’t actually a “he” (yay, androgyny!) then “he” could also easily be defined by that other trope known as the Manic Pixie Dream Girl: a “bubbly, shallow creature that exists solely … to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.” (AV CLUB, 2007). Perhaps the reason that I saw Huli Jing like this was because that was how the French playwright, Giraudoux, created the character that Huli Jing is based on: the water sprite, Ondine.

Though written in 1939, the character Ondine appears to fit the role of MPDG completely. She is both quirky and uninhibited; and, most importantly, she exists solely for the male protagonist’s (Hans) happiness. As with almost all MPDG stories, misogyny and traditional gender roles are the norm, which means you end up with lines like:

Hans. Yes. Ondine and Hans.
Ondine. Oh no. Hans first. He is the man. He commands. Ondine is the girl. She is always one step behind. She keeps quiet.

(Valency. Giraudoux: Four Play, 1958, page 186)

What the hell is a person suppose to do with lines like that? (Besides mock them, I mean) … which led me to think about how, in stories about love affairs between humans and non-humans (I’m thinking of every Irish folk story where a mortal is seduced by the Fey), they always end terribly, usually for the human but, regardless, everyone is miserable in the end.

On the other hand, if you substitute, “ghost lover,” with, “emotionally-stunted male,” then we’re in Rom-Com territory; where a successful woman, who just can’t find the love of a good man, is miserable until she stumbles upon the man-child of her dreams, which then allows for the customary misunderstandings and zaniness to ensue.

Except Huli Jing is neither a MPDG nor a MPDB. It’s fox-magic that we’re dealing with, and fox-spirits are, as E. T. C. Werner put it, “cunning, cautious, sceptical … and fond of playing pranks and tormenting mankind.” (Myths and Legends of China, 1922, page 371.) Indeed, Huli Jing casts a spell on Jinggu, and goe so far as to, “taste her essence,” because “his” motivations are far different than Ondine’s. Like all Trickster figures there is something both child-like and sinister in everything that they do. It is a complexity that Giraudoux’s nymph was never written with.

huli jing [act i]

20 Friday Mar 2015

Posted by babylon crashing in drama, Feminism, Humor

≈ Comments Off on huli jing [act i]

Tags

9-tailed fox, Act I, androgyny, Chinese mythology, drama, Giraudoux, Huli Jing, Ondine

HULI JING: the 9-tailed fox

[a reworking of Giraudoux’s Ondine]

ACT I

Huli Jing, a 9-tailed fox-spirit.
Jinggu, a Wu-Shaman.
Niu and Qui (Huli Jing’s human parents)

][][

The scene is mythological China.
Nighttime inside a roadside inn.
Outside a forest storm rages.

NIU [at the window]
He’s out there … in the dark.

QUI
Indeed, Niu, dear. In the dark.

NIU [peering]
It’s a very dark night.

QUI
Indeed. If it was lighter it would be daylight.

NIU
Listen! The boy is laughing! No, that’s the wind. That sounded like the wind, didn’t it?

QUI
Well, if it isn’t the wind what else could it be?

NIU [uncomfortable, not wishing to state the obvious]
Shush your mouth. You know that I don’t know.

QUI
So, he’s out among the trees, singing with the wind?

NIU
Don’t laugh at me, old man!

QUI [smiling to himself]
I was merely remembering when I was a boy his age. But we lived in a city and there were no trees.

NIU
City-life would’ve taken the forest out of him. We’re too soft with him, Qui. It isn’t right, a boy running about in the woods at this time of night. I shall have to talk gravely to him when he returns.

QUI
If he returns. But why complain? He helps with the housework around the inn every day, doesn’t he?

NIU
I don’t know. Does he?

QUI
I’m the one in the kitchen. You’re the one seeing to the guests. I’ve yet to hear you complain that we’re serving meals on dirty dishes.

NIU
That’s not the point. Whether he has to wash dishes, cups or tables, it always the same time – I turn my back for a moment and everything is clean and shining.

QUI
Complaining about efficiency is odd, coming from you. Would you rather a layabout and a slob for a son?

NIU [not paying attention]
And then he brings things home. He says that he finds them in the woods. Queer bowls and cups that look like they’re fashioned out of roots. You know what he has been doing today?

QUI
Probably doing what a boy his age does. Do you remember a single day in all these years that we’ve had him that he has done anything expected of him? And yet, somehow, he makes everyone who comes to this inn happy.

NIU
Huh, except for the ones that he spooks away.

[The window suddenly flies open]

NIU [startled]
Whaa!

QUI [getting up and coming over]
Why so jittery? It’s only the wind.

NIU
Wind? It’s him! You know how he loves to play tricks on me. Making all those ghastly faces peer in at the window when my back is turned. That young girl with no eyes gives me the heeby-jeebies.

QUI
I like the old man with the beard, though. Still, if you’re frightened, shut the window.

[There is a flash of lightning, and the face of an young girl with unkempt hair and empty eye-sockets appears in the window.]

YOUNG GIRL WITH NO EYES
Hello, mama-dear!

NIU [shrieks]
Huli Jing, you scalawag!

[She shuts the window. It flies open again. The head of an old man with a long beard appears in another flash.]

OLD MAN [cheerfully]
Good evening, master Qui!

QUI [cheerfully]
Ah! Good evening, sir!

[The Old Man disappears. Qui goes to the door and peers out into the storm.]

QUI [calling]
Huli Jing, come in this minute! Your mother is very angry!

NIU [calling out the window]
Yes, in you come, Huli Jing! I’m going to count up to three, and if you’re not in by then, I’m going to lock the door! [To herself] The boy can sleep outside.

[A flash of lighting and crash of thunder comes as a response.]

QUI
Mother, you don’t mean that!

NIU
You see if I don’t. Huli Jing – one!

[A second roll of thunder.]

QUI
You’re only making the forest angry every time you speak!

NIU
It’s not the forest who is angry, is it? Huli Jing – two!

[A third boom of thunder even louder than the last.]

QUI
This isn’t how one keeps good neighbors —

NIU
“Neighbors,” my foot – three!

[Sudden magical silence falls over the inn. Even the wind cannot be heard.]

QUI [dryly]
Well, somebody heard you.

NIU [getting up and locking the door]
There! The inn is closed for the night, as far as I’m concerned. Now we can go to bed.

[Suddenly the door blows open and with it the sounds of the night. Niu and Qui turn, startled. Silhouetted in the doorway stands Jinggu, a female wu-shaman.]

JINGGU [cheerfully stepping into the room]
The door isn’t locked, I hope?

NIU
O! A guest. [Stepping forward.] Madam, my name is Niu, at your service.

JINGGU
Many thanks. I’ve been walking all day through these woods. Do you think that I might find a room tonight?

NIU
O, please, madam, make yourself at home.

JINGGU [sitting down and shaking rain water from her robes]
Buddha in heaven, what a storm! It’s been pouring down my neck ever since noon. Of course, robes are robes and these deserve to be burned, but there’s not much one can do. The one thing we shamans simply dread, you know, is rain. That, and rat-demons, of course.

NIU
Of course. Er, well, madam, perhaps you could take them off and I could see that they get properly washed?

JINGGU
Take my robes off? Have you ever seen a snail without its shell, Niu? Well, I suppose that would make it a slug, come to think about it. But the analogy still works. A shaman without her robes? A naked wu-shaman? Unthinkable! Well, except for when it comes to the licentiousness, of course. There is an awful lot of that, except in Court these days. It’s that blasted Confucianism that keeps saying that women need to leave their robes on. And now that the Empress is so keen on Confucianism there isn’t much a shaman can do except not take her robes off. You did say your name was Niu, yes?

NIU
Ah, yes, madam, and this is my husband, Qui.

QUI [bowing]
Please excuse us, madam. We rarely get Court shamans in these parts.

JINGGU
O, I’m not a Court shaman, my good man! I’m just a shaman from the Court. It’s the men who are all the ritual bureaucrats and moral metaphysicians these days. Especially now that the Empress is worried that her yin has somehow become polluted.

NIU
Polluted, madam?

JINGGU
I know, sounds crazy, doesn’t it? There’s that damn Confucianism, again. I use to be in charge of purifying mountain demons and now I’m reduced to purifying the Empress’ yin.

NIU
Does that work?

JINGGU
If I do it once a day it keeps her happy. It’s hard work, mind you. She keeps producing so much of it. Copious amounts. But she must be getting very cranky of late, I’ve spent a whole month in this forest, vainly searching for a mother-of-pearl comb belonging to a “hollow-cheeked young moon of springtime’s ebb with plumed clouds canopied about her.” Then it started to rain. Lucky for me I’ve stumbles on Niu’s and Qui’s quaint roadside inn.

QUI
That’s right, madam! Er, I know it’s not proper to ask a guest questions, madam, but may I just ask if you’re hungry?

JINGGU
Food? Food! I should that say I am. I’d be most glad for a meal.

QUI
I’ve got a rabbit in the kitchen. Perhaps you’d care for that?

JINGGU
I most certainly would! I have an unholy passion for rabbit.

QUI
Would you like it boiled, madam, or poached?

JINGGU
Ah, steamy lapin water. Er, no. I prefer fricassee, truth be told.

[Niu and Qui look at each other in dismay.]

QUI
O … fricassee? I usually boil them for twenty or thirty minutes, madam, they’re very nice that way.

JINGGU
But you just asked how I like rabbit, and I like fricassee.

NIU
He poaches them, too, madam.

QUI [sadly]
You would like me to saute and braise the meat, madam?

[In the far distance: thunder and lightning]

JINGGU
I don’t know, I just like the word, “fricassee.” It sounds rather indecent. An indecent rabbit, ha!

NIU [stiffly]
It certainly does, madam.

JINGGU
Then that’s settled then. I want fricassee.

NIU
All right, Qui. Go and … do that thing for the lady.

QUI [in the doorway]
It’s very nice simmered, madam, in a small amount of —

NIU [shooing him away]
Go on, old man.

[Qui goes into the kitchen. Jinggu settles back in her chair.]

JINGGU
You seem quite keen on Court shamans in these parts.

NIU
Well, madam, we prefer them to wild beasts and demons.

JINGGU
I rather like demons, at least the ones from the mountains. Not that I’m a monster or anything, it’s just what I was trained in.

NIU
It’s rare to find a woman with a trade, madam.

JINGGU
Thing is, you see, I like talking. I’ve got a talkative nature, I suppose. With demons there’s always someone to chat with. Most shamans are far from congenial, if you get my drift. Chimei demons are the best, of course, they’re thousands of years old and they’ll tell you their whole life stories. Some people say that their name means “hornless dragon,” which is odd because dragons are, you know, celestial, whereas Chimei aren’t. You’d think that was perfectly obvious. But scholars are a pretty thick lot, especially the Court ones, pfff. You see, the problem is, and I think it is a problem, that I don’t know anything about forest demons, certainly not enough to carry on a conversation. So I’ve spend a month lost in these damned woods, and I’ve yet to exchange a single word with anyone. Even my own echo finds me boring of late, which is a shame since I’ve got so much to say!

NIU
But whoever could have made you come to a dreadful place like this?

JINGGU
Who do you think? A man, of course!

NIU
Ah! Huh, well, I won’t ask you any more, madam.

JINGGU
Ha ha! Yes you will, this very minute! Lord Buddha and the Diamond Sutra, Niu! I haven’t talked about a man for a whole month! You don’t think I’m going to miss the opportunity, now that I’ve got you within earshot!

NIU [clearing uncomfortable about the subject but trying to be polite]
It’s fine, madam, I’ve never found the subject to be all that stimulating —

JINGGU
Come on, now! Hurry up and ask me his name!

NIU
Madam …

JINGGU
Do you want to know his name or not?

NIU [sighing]
What is his name, madam?

JINGGU
His name, good innkeeper, is Tsu Tia-Chua. Isn’t it a manly name!

NIU [dryly]
O … very manly, madam.

JINGGU
Other men are always called Bingwen, Huizhong, or Jianguo – well, I mean, anyone can be called Bingwen, or Huizhong, or Jianguo, but only someone special deserves a name so solemn and deep and thrilling. I expect you want to know if he’s handsome, dear Qui?

QUI [just coming in]
Who is handsome, madam?

NIU
The lady is talking about Tsu Tia-Chua, my dear, Lord Tsu Tia-Chua of the Court.

QUI
Er, yes. Handsome is he? I mean, is he handsome?

JINGGU
Is he handsome! But you’ll see for yourself, my dear friends, because you will both come to my wedding. I invite you here and now! Tsu Tia-Chua promised to marry me on the one condition that I returned from this forest; and if I do return, it will be entirely thanks to you. Well, Qui, my dear, I think you’d better go and fetch that rabbit of mine. We don’t want it over-fricasseed, do we? Wait, is that even possible?

[The door opens, and Huli Jing appears. He stands motionless on the threshold.]

HULI JING [marveling]
O, you’re beautiful!

NIU [standing up]
Why, you moss-tailed miscreant!

HULI JING [coming in, a wild thing from the wild woods]
Isn’t she beautiful?

NIU
Excuse me, madam, this is our son. I’m afraid he doesn’t know much about manners.

HULI JING
It’s just that I’m so happy to know that a mortal woman is as lovely as that. I’m not frightened of them now.

NIU
He’s still a child, madam. Please try to forgive him.

HULI JING
I knew there must be some good reason for deciding on being a boy today!

NIU
Huli Jing, please, you’re annoying the lady.

HULI JING
I’m not, you know. The moment I walked through the door she began to overflow with essence. I could smell it way out in the forest, that’s why I came home early. Look at her face! She’s glowing. What’s your name?

NIU [horrified]
For all that is holy, boy, you can’t address a shaman like that!

HULI JING [coming up to Jinggu]
What’s her name?

JINGGU
Her name is Jinggu.

HULI JING
I should have known. When it’s a dewy morning, and your breath goes out like a cloud, bearing all your sadness with it, you say Jinggu. That’s so pretty! Why have you come? To take me away?

NIU
That’s quite enough from you. Go to your room this minute.

HULI JING
O, take me! Abscond with me!

[Qui returns with the cooked rabbit.]

QUI
Here’s your fricassee, madam. Just you settle down to that. It’ll be better than listening to this mad son of ours.

HULI JING [twirling around in horror]
Did you say fricassee?

JINGGU [eating with gusto]
Yum – it’s magnificent!

HULI JING
Father, did you dare to braise a rabbit?

QUI
Be quiet. It’s done now, anyway.

HULI JING
O, my poor darling rabbit, you’ve slept all winter dreaming under the snow only to end up in a sauce pan!

NIU
Now you’re not going to start making a fuss about a rabbit!

HULI JING
They call themselves my parents … and they took you and threw you cut you up into little pieces and sauteed you!

JINGGU
I asked them to, little boy.

HULI JING
You did? Yes, I should have known that too. I can see, now I look at you closer. You stink of mortality, don’t you?

[Far away, but coming closer: thunder and lightning.]

QUI [bowing]
O, madam, forgive us!

HULI JING
You don’t know anything about anything, do you? You think dream interpretation really works? I’ve seen your “sacrificial rain ceremony,” what a joke! You lot are so eager for your Elixirs of Immortality but the moment something truly awe-inspiring comes by all you want to do is fricassee it!

JINGGU [her mouth full]
Try some, child! It’s delicious!

HULI JING
Well, it won’t be delicious much longer!

[Huli Jing takes the dish and throws the rabbit out of the window.]

HULI JING
Go on and eat it now! Good-bye!

QUI
Huli Jing! Where are you going?

HULI JING
There’s someone out there who hates mortals and wants to tell me all about them. I always refused to listen, because I’ve had my own ideas – but not anymore!

QUI
You’re not going out again, in this weather!

HULI JING
Yes, and in a minute I’ll know everything; what they’re like and what they’re capable of – the thought of what I’m about to hear sets my fur flying.

NIU
Young man, have I got to stop you by force, eh?

[Huli Jing slips away from his mother.]

HULI JING
I already know that mortals are all evil and liars and smell, and the beautiful ones are really grotesque, and the magical ones are plain and repulsive!

JINGGU
Really, child? What if one of them fell in love with you?

[Huli Jing stops, but does not turn round]

HULI JING
What did she say?

JINGGU [looking down at her chop-sticks]
O, nothing. Nothing at all.

HULI JING
Say it again.

JINGGU
Suppose one of them fell in love with you?

[Directly overhead: thunder and lightning. The Inn’s lights all flicker.]

HULI JING
I’d still hate them.

[Huli Jing vanishes into the night.]

[End of Act I]

][][

notes:

I am a firm believer in the Bechdel Test, which is a rating system based on that: (1) the work in question has to have at least two women in it, who (2) who talk to each other, about (3) something besides a man. Even though Jinggu seems to want to do nothing but talk about her man appearances can be deceptive.

At first I had the fox-spirit, Huli Jing, simply female, but then I began to think of the glories of androgyny; why not have a girl play an immortal boy who seduces an “older” mortal woman? It’s fascinating how generations of Western audiences have had no problem with Peter Pan always being played by, clearly, an adult woman, even when “he” is seducing Wendy Darling from the very beginning.

ash and bone [1]

26 Saturday Jul 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenia, Disaster –- Pain –- Sorrow, drama

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Tags

Armenian Genocide, Ash and Bone, Constantinople, drama, play, The Young Turks, tragedy

memory is nothing but ash and bone
hishoghut’yan mokhir yev voskrayin
հիշողության մոխիր եւ ոսկրային
— Armenian proverb

ACT I:

FADE IN:
EXT. YENI BIR KADIN.1 FINISHING SCHOOL FOR YOUNG LADIES — DAY

[It is the age of the NEW WOMAN,2 July, 1914. YENI BIR KADIN SCHOOL is an experiment in Constantinople, the first of its kind, a brief, liberal attempt to dismantle the DHIMMI,3-caste system. The students are mainly from middle-class Turkish, Armenian and Greek families, a combination of Islamic and Christian faiths. Riot of girls cheering loudly, something that has never been seen before; wild-looking girls running at break-neck speed. The athletes wear a curious combination of head scarves, pantaloons and silky knickerbockers. Their classmates, in their official YOUNG TURKS’4 -sponsored school uniforms, cheer enthusiastically as the athletes race around on the immaculately-kept grounds. It is amazing enough to make even SUFFRAGETTE SALLY5 stand up and take note.]

[NARINE DILSIZIAN (27), an Armenian gardener, works on the school’s garden. A few feet away, her daughter, HASMIK (15), leans against a broken and bullet-pocked wall, watching the race.]

[ZELDA KIRKE, a 40-year old American English teacher, wife to a junior member of the American embassy, is enthusiastically cheering on her daughter, MATILDA (15), who, dressed in the same silly Edwardian-era fashion, leads neck-and-neck with another girl in the last lap of the race. The excitement increases as they approach the finish line. ZELDA is beside herself, encouraging her daughter with shouting and jumping up and down. A young Turkish teacher (though not a YOUNG TURK), ASIYE, stands next to ZELDA, shouting, “Bravo, Matilda!” over and over while clapping her hands.]

[MATILDA breasts the tape just ahead of the other girl; her head scarf unraveling, letting her long brown hair shine in the sun. The grounds are invaded by girls running to congratulate MATILDA and her rival. ZELDA hurries towards her happy but exhausted daughter, pushing her way through the mass of school girls.]

ZELDA:
This was your best race!

MATILDA [perspiring]:
I — I beat her, Mama.

ZELDA [proudly]:
You did daughter! [Laughing.] Come to the baths, we will get you cleaned up again.

[Mother and daughter walk happily towards the school buildings; MATILDA getting many kisses from her friends as they pass by. ZELDA stops to talk to NARINE, who jumps to her feet and looks nervous.]

ZELDA:
Narine, my dear, I hope you can make it. There isn’t much to do, you know, only caring for the tulips.

NARINE:
We’ll be there, Madam Zelda, bayan,.6 Hasmik-jan.7 will come to help me.

[ZELDA, who hadn’t realized HASMIK was there, turns to her.]

ZELDA:
How’s the calculus? Still confusing?

HASMIK [with respect]:
A little, Madam Zelda, bayan.

MATILDA [with a very fond look in her eye as she steps forward]:
Me too.

NARINE [straightening herself]:
My daughter works hard, Madam Zelda, bayan. Your money will not be wasted. Varton and I will always thank you.

ZELDA [gaily as she leaves]:
I hope to see you both later, darlings.

[NARINE returns to her work. A group of students, TURKISH GIRLS, laughing and pushing each other boisterously, amble by. As they near HASMIK, two girls nudge each other and giggle. Suddenly one of them trips HASMIK as she passes. The Armenian girl falls to the ground and jumps up aggressively, about to attack the Turkish girl. NARINE shouts “Hasmik-jan!”]

[The headmaster, OSMANOGLU BEY (65), despite his so-called liberal views, observes the incident but simply looks the other way.]

[HASMIK stands, suddenly blind with rage. With a snort she strides away towards the main school’s gate.]

NARINE [shouting angrily in Turkish]:
Nereye gidiyorsun?
(Where are you going?)

HASMIK turns to look at her mother then continues to storm off.


footnotes:

1. Turkish, literally, New Woman.↩

2. The New Woman was a Feminist ideal that emerged in the late 19th century and had a profound influence on Feminism well into the 20th. The term was popularized by writer Henry James, to describe the growth in the number of Feminist, educated, independent career women in Europe and the United States. According to historian Ruth Bordin, the term was, “intended by James to characterize American expatriates living in Europe: women of affluence and sensitivity, who despite or perhaps because of their wealth exhibited an independent spirit and were accustomed to acting on their own.”↩

3. Dhimmi and Dhimmitude are historical terms referring to non-Muslim citizens living in an Islamic state. Depending on the people and time period this “separate but equal” status has led to persecution, purges and, in extreme cases, genocide.↩

4. Officially known as the Committee of Union and Progress, the Young Turks were a Pan-Turkish nationalist reform party in the early 20th century, aligning themselves with Germany during WW1 and seeking to purge non-Turkish Muslims from the country. Originally favoring reformation of the absolute monarchy of the Ottoman Empire, their leadership, what historians have referred to as a “dictatorial triumvirate,” seized power in a coup d’état in 1913. Led by “The Three Pashas” (Enver, Djemal and Talaat), their dogma and policies led directly to humiliating defeat after defeat against Tsarist Russia and the ethnic cleansing of 1.5 million of their own people, the Ottoman-Armenians.↩

5. The title character in a novel by English author Gertrude Colmore (1911), written to help further the cause of the Women’s Movement.↩

6. Bayan is the Turkish word for lady.↩

7. -jan is a suffix in the Armenian language denoting affection.↩

SHE-WOLF: a new retelling of macbeth

09 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in drama

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Tags

Amazon queen, Amazon warrior, amazonomachy, drama, Macbeth, retelling, Shakespeare, woman warrior

ACT I, SCENE I:

[TIME: Three years after the fall of Troy where the great Amazonian queen, Penthesilea, was slain on the battlefield while defending the city, along with many of her chieftainesses. As a result the Amazon tribes, scattered up and down the Black Sea coast, are now in disarray, confused and fighting among themselves for power.]

[SETTING: A stunted landscape lost in a dream; fog and black volcanic rock. Ruins of a mighty fortress, APHRODITE’S CASTLE, appear.]

CHORUS [singing off-stage]:
See? She trails her claws through the long moonlight
streaks; all that remains of those who denied

a wolf her ambitions; haunted tonight
by the ghosts of those who perished inside.

A scene of carnage born of desire.
A scene not fit for anyone who thinks

she still has honor; a wolf’s empire
crumbled. A riddle that even the Sphinx

could not answer. Lust: never changing now
or all throughout history. Why? Answers

puddle under our knees, fill our wide, dumb,
gapping mouths; we shall drown not knowing how

to read. Foolish hubris; as if slaughter
or war brought anybody’s soul wisdom.

[Sound of the wailing wind over the rocks and mist. Pause. Suddenly the ERINYES, the Greek Furies, enter. They are monstrous, female chthonic deities of vengeance. Homer called them, “those beneath the earth who punish all blood-oath breakers.” They are ALECTO (“the unnamable one”), MEGAERA (“grudging dislike”), and TISIPHONE (“vengeful destruction”), the stuff of nightmares.]

ALECTO:
When should we meet next? In the bloody rain or at the height of the thunder and lightning?

MEGAERA :
When the din of the war has fallen silent or when the battle has been won? I care not.

TISIPHONE:
Then it’ll happen when the sun sets upon this blood-dim tide …

ALECTO:
… and the stars speak through the infernal machine. So! Name the place.

MEGAERA:
In an open field? In the shadow of a hanged-man strung up at the crossroads? In the ashes of Troy? I care not.

TISIPHONE:
Wherever we go we shall meet the She-Wolf, Lady Lykopis.

ALL:
So it begins. Fair is foul, and foul is fair. We shall meet again in mist and war-torn air.

[They exit.]
][][

ACT I, SCENE II:

[An all-female battle camp, as depicted in the Greek Amazonomachies. Chaos of war raging nearby. QUEEN MARPESIA (“She Who Snatches”), in full armor, sits with her daughter, MALAPADIA (“Death Song”), as well as her personal bodyguard, HIPPOTHOE (“Imperious Mare”), her general, PYRGOMACHE (“Fiery Warrior”) and a number of CHIEFTAINESSES at a council of war.]

AMAZON CHIEFTAINESS #1:
Shall we go out to meet the challenge, my queen? Or do we return to Aphrodite’s Castle and barricade ourselves up in there?

[Long pause while the QUEEN MARPESIA contemplates and her AMAZON CHIEFTAINESSES look nervously on.]

AMAZON CHIEFTAINESS #2 [speaking her mind]:
We must confine ourselves to the castle. Striking at an enemy bent on victory will only bring greater injury to our women. First, we must post sentinels at the edges of Aphrodite’s Labyrinth, divide our enemy’s forces by luring them into its maze. Then we can then kill as many as we can. Later we can withdraw and barricade ourselves in our fortress. That would be my strategy.

QUEEN MARPESIA [unsure]:
What about our rations and supplies?

AMAZON CHIEFTAINESS # 2:
We can survive three months … sucking down gruel.

[Suddenly a wounded and bloody comrade, ANDRODAMEIA (“Subduer of Men”), dragging herself off the battlefield, enters.]

QUEEN MARPESIA [rising in alarm]:
Who is this bloodstained ghost? Quick, fetch my surgeon. We must save her; perhaps she can tell us about the rebellion.

MALAPADIA [stepping forward]:
This is the chieftainess who fought to keep me from being captured, mother. Lady Androdameia, my brave sister! Tell us news.

ANDRODAMEIA [half-blind, gasping and gory]:
My queen, my sisters, for a while I couldn’t tell who would win. Like two drowning swimmers, the armies clung to each other … bodies dragging each other down through the dark depths. The depraved rebel, Antimachos, who sided with Achilles at Troy, was supported by soldiers from Attica and took the Red Stronghold, killing all inside. It seemed that the fickle Fates were with her. Caught unawares, fire ravaged the Southern Fortress.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
What about the Eastern Fortress?

ANDRODAMEIA:
The East Fortress had no time to prepare itself.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Tell me about the Western Fortress?

ANDRODAMEIA:
Fighting like a woman possessed, West Fortress commander, Lady Penthesilea, redeployed her warriors in a counter-strike.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Ai! What of our Northern Fortress?

ANDRODAMEIA:
The Greeks and Antimachos together weren’t strong enough to take that. Lady Lykopis, who deserves the title of She-Wolf, laughed at the Fates, the rebels and the Greeks. She slaughtered her way to deceitful Antimachos, who stood shocked and mute before her. Then our brave sister split the traitor from jawbone to belly and left her corpse on the battlefield, to be picked over by carrion crows.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
My dreadful war-sister! My praiseworthy chieftainess!

ANDRODAMEIA:
Nevertheless, my queen, in the same way that violent storms often appear out of nowhere so can the tide of war turn. As soon as we left those Attican bastards in heaps upon the field the Spartan king saw his chance to attack us with reinforcements.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
No! What befell our terrible sisters, Lykopis and Penthesilea?

ANDRODAMEIA:
Those that we call mere warriors bathed in our enemies’ blood. They put the ten-year war at Troy to shame. Lykopis and Penthesilea fought the new enemy with even more violence as before …

[Before she can finish, though, ANDRODAMEIA crumples from blood loss.]

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Sister! Take her to the surgeons.

[ANDRODAMEIA exits, helped by attendants.]

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Her words, like her wounds, bring us all honor.

[TECMESSA (“She Who Judges”) enters.]

MALAPADIA:
Mother, it is your most loyal warrior, Lady Tecmessa, who approaches.

HIPPOTHOE [musing]:
Odd, she looks like she brings you a strange tale to tell.

TECMESSA:
Great Hera blesses us all!

QUEEN MARPESIA:
What news do you have, sister?

TECMESSA:
First, my queen, I come from where the Spartan flags once flew over our land. Our soldiers were exhausted, in disorder, and fell into confusion the moment this new threat took to the field. But, still wearing her blood-splattered battle-armor, our brave Lykopis met the Spartans as if she were the Goddess of War’s only lover. She broke the enemy’s charge and drove them back across the border.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Joy! Great joy, indeed.

TECMESSA:
So now, false Leonidas, the Spartan king, wants a truce. We told him that we wouldn’t even let him bury his dead until he went to the temple of Athena and swore on his worthless testicles that his people would never against raise their cowardly hands us, from now and forever.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
“Sic semper tyrannis.” The cravens of Sparta will never again wage war against us. Lady Pyrgomache; take your Amazons to Red Stronghold and secure it. Reinforce our borders. Then bring Lykopis and Penthesilea to me. I wish to thank my sisters myself.

[They all exit.]

][][

ACT I, SCENE III:

[Thunder over a wretched moorland; in the far distance lines and lines of volcanic hills rising from the ground: APHRODITE’S LABYRINTH. The three ERINYES enter.]

ALL [their strange, oblong skulls wavering in the dusk]:
Captured goddess, her sword blades and poppy
seeds. I was down in the market. I’ve seen

how amethyst dire shivers; red, bloody
cinnamon flickers. The heart of a queen

can be broken. It was her wings. Rainbow
feathers. Hera’s terrible tongue, wrapping

around the girl’s clit. Caught in afterglow
and a blood-soaked bed; they caught her, coming

the way the gods come. Down in the market
I found her. Shorn of her wings; tied in chain

while men bargained for her. Let gold-silver
damn you when you call a goddess a slut;

when you kill a queen. Who will explain
why the She-Wolf is now a Queen killer?

[Darkness.]

][][

ACT I, SCENE IV:

[SETTING: Deep within APHRODITE’S LABYRINTH. A heavy rain falls in the foothills along the coast of the Black Sea. Gloomy, supernatural, shrouded in fog, their sides are so steep that they are impossible to climb, with canyon walls so narrow riders are forced to ride in single file to cross through them. LYKOPIS and PENTHESILEA enter on horseback; both are wounded, blood-stained and exhausted to the point of hallucination.]

LYKOPIS [with a grievous cut across her scalp, causing blood to run into her eyes]:
I have never seen a day that was so fair and foul.

PENTHESILEA [with the broken shaft of an arrow sticking out of her shoulder]:
It hurts. Three handkerchiefs are inside me. This makes the fourth.

[They ride off. Thunder and lightning. Soon they find themselves back at the spot they just had just left.]

LYKOPIS:
Ahh, this is … the very path where we just stopped.

PENTHESILEA:
Indeed, there are our hoof marks in the mud where we just passed.

LYKOPIS:
This is mystifying. Isn’t this Aphrodite’s Labyrinth?

PENTHESILEA [wearily]:
Ai, without a doubt.

LYKOPIS:
The castle must be very near. We have wandered these hills for hours … and we’re still lost. Ludicrous.

[The rain falls even heavier. LYKOPIS takes an arrow and fires it at the heavens. Suddenly disembodied laughter is heard all around them.]

LYKOPIS:
Hear that? There’s evil afoot. Look at the horses. They’re frightened out of their wits.

PENTHESILEA [grimacing in pain]:
What manner of god or beast would be out in this misery?

[They wheel their horses about while the hills continue to laugh. Suddenly they come upon a ghost-like hut.]

LYKOPIS:
What is that? How can such a shack be hidden here in this maze?

PENTHESILEA:
I have no idea. It does not appear to be made by human hands. Perhaps it is …

[The bewitched rain and laughter suddenly stops. LYKOPIS and PENTHESILEA dismount and approach the hut. The ERINYES sit in front of the hut, each turning a spinning wheel.]

PENTHESILEA [seeing the ERINYES]:
— Great Gaia! What are these wild, alien monstrosities? They look like the nightmares that the gods have when they dream. [To the ERINYES] Are you living creatures of clay or phantoms that fell from the sky? Speak, can you understand me? Speak!

LYKOPIS:
Speak, if you have tongues. I would call you sisters but I’ve never seen anything as weird or wild as how you present yourselves.

ALECTO:
Commander of the Northern Fortress, Lady Lykopis, we honor you: Sparta’s Bane

LYKOPIS [startled]:
Eh? You know of me?

MEGAERA:
Ai. From this day forward the world shall call you, “Marpesia’s Hallowing”!

TISIPHONE:
We honor you, Lady Lykopis! Imminent queen over all of Aphrodite’s Castle!

LYKOPIS [incensed, unsling her bow]:
How dare you! Cease your jesting.

ALECTO:
Why show us your cheek when our words must be joyous to your soul?

[LYKOPIS draws back her bow as if to kill TISIPHONE.]

LYKOPIS [sneering]:
Cheek? Heh. I already know that I defeated the Spartan king, Leonidas. But why do you call me “Marpesia’s Hallowing”? It is a title none have held for a hundred years. For me to be the queen that is impossible … that is treason! There already is a queen that I love and that I have sworn a blood oath to … to protect.

MEGAERA [chuckling horribly]:
Mortals are so strange … they are terrified to look into the bottom of their own hearts.

PENTHESILEA [to LYKOPIS]:
Wait. Though these may be spirits of earth they would not joke with your arrow poised at one of their naked breasts. [To the ERINYES] Sisters, if you are from the gods, if blood-hungry Athena sent you to watch us win honor on the battlefield, then you greet my war-sister with honors and talk of a future so glorious that you’ve made her splutter like a maiden before her first battle … but you have yet to say anything to me. I do not beg for favors … I’m not afraid of death … please; tell me of what will come.

ALECTO [turning her terrible, eyeless head toward PENTHESILEA]:
Come? Ai, Lady Penthesilea, commander of the Western Fortress … henceforth, you shall be commander of the Red Stronghold. We honor you!

MEGAERA:
Phoebe’s mare and fortune, welcome, we honor you!

PENTHESILEA:
What? What do you mean by this?

TISIPHONE:
Lady Penthesilea, your daughter shall be queen over Aphrodite’s Castle, even though you will not be.

PENTHESILEA:
Eh?

ALECTO:
You will be lesser than Lady Lykopis but your future will be greater.

MEGAERA:
You will not be as happy as Lady Lykopis … but your future will be much happier.

ALL:
We honor you, our ladies, Lykopis and Penthesilea!

[The ERINYES rise as one and in a whirlwind disappear. LYKOPIS and PENTHESILEA, despite their wounds, rush forward but find that they are alone. They begin searching the area and come upon a giant heap of bones, skeletons in Trojan armor, etc. Getting quickly back on their horses they exit.]

][][

ACT I, SCENE V:

[SETTING: The vapor thins as LYKOPIS and PENTHESILEA leave the hills and enter a wretched moorland. In the distance APHRODITE’S CASTLE can be seen through the mist.]

PENTHESILEA:
Ah, there’s the castle. Finally free of that labyrinth … come, sister.

LYKOPIS [touching her hand to her bloody head]:
No, wait. My exhaustion is … terrible. My armor weighs heavily, I am sorry … I need to rest.

PENTHESILEA [gently touching the arrow shaft]:
Ai, it is a wonder that you and I even survived. Shall we rest?

[They dismount and flop upon the ground.]

PENTHESILEA:
I’m numb. These last two days feel like a dream.

LYKOPIS:
I can’t help but feel that this is already a nightmare. Our encounter with those monsters may well have been a terrible portent of things to come.

PENTHESILEA:
Aren’t all portents terrible? They say that our dreams show us our most depraved desires … and yet, who would not dream of ruling over Aphrodite’s Castle?

LYKOPIS:
It seems that your daughter shall certainly do that.

PENTHESILEA:
No, it is you, yourself, who shall rule.

[They laugh, despite their exhaustion and pain.]

LYKOPIS:
But first, I must become Marpesia’s Hallowing.

PENTHESILEA:
Perhaps then I will be commander of the Red Stronghold as well.

TOGETHER [still laughing]:
Wonderful! Marvelous!

TOGETHER [becoming serious]:
But yes? … But no? …

LYKOPIS [startled, as if waking from a dream]:
What? What did you just say?

PENTHESILEA [similarly]:
Ah, what did you say?

LYKOPIS:
Sister … what if I do become Marpesia’s Hallowing when we return … and you are given command of Red Stronghold …?

[They clamber to their feet, gaze at APHRODITE’S CASTLE in awe, then at themselves and exit.]

][][

ACT I, SCENE VI:

[Setting: The interior of QUEEN MARPESIA’S personal chambers in APHRODITE’S CASTLE. It is huge, crammed with valuables from all her many military campaigns — Trojan knickknacks, Persian vases, Armenian carpets hanging on the walls, a bed from China, a Mongolian rug on the floor, etc.]

[With a flourish QUEEN MARPESIA, HIPPOTHOE and MALAPADIA enter. MARPESIA is still in her shiny armor, though HIPPOTHOE now carries her helmet and sheathed sword. During MARPESIA’S monologue SLAVES come forward and undress their queen, hanging her armor, helmet and sword on a wooden mannequin off in one corner.]

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Glory. The white almond is stripped away
from its green husk. Glory. As I wandered

along my city streets — under archway,
through door — I saw nothing that I treasured

more than the Women of the Red Horses;
with their belts spun of gold and their quivers

full of arrows. They were like the Graces,
if the Graces were ever warriors.

Glory. I love my horse-riders. Naked
on their steeds. Naked in battle. Night birds

are not as beautiful as you are — rude,
riding hard, burning down the world. My blood

burns for you. Glory as you ride homewards.
Be man’s nightmare: women fierce, divine, nude.

[Now dressed in her royal robes MARPESIA and all exit.]

][][

ACT I, SCENE VII:

[SETTING: The great hall of APHRODITE’S CASTLE. Lanterns are lit on the walls. All of QUEEN MARPESIA’S AMAZONIAN CHIEFTAINESSES are at attention. PYRGOMACHE enters, leading LYKOPIS and PENTHESILEA through the ranks of women.]

QUEEN MARPESIA [to LYKOPIS]:
My worthiest sister! Just this moment I was feeling guilty of ungratefulness. You have done so much for us that it is impossible to reward you as it should be. If only you had done less then perhaps my thanks would match your deeds. [Laughs at own jokes.] All I can say now is that you are owned more than I can repay back.

LYKOPIS:
To serve you is my greatest reward, my queen. It is I who owe you. My duty to you and our sisters is like the duty of a daughter to all her many mothers.

QUEEN MARPESIA [takes a glorious sword from a waiting attendant, presents it to LYKOPIS]:
You are welcome here. By making you Marpesia’s Hallowing and the new commander of the Southern Fortress I have planted the seeds for an incredible future for you. Please allow me to make sure that they grow. [To PENTHESILEA, handing her a similar sword.] Loyal Lady Penthesilea, you deserve no less than Lady Lykopis. Let me embrace you. You are now the heart and soul of the Red Stronghold.

[ LYKOPIS and PENTHESILEA glance at each other, amazed and unsure of this turn of events. With their new swords raised high they exit together through the ranks of their fellow warriors.]

][][
ACT II, SCENE I:

[SETTING: The courtyard of the much nobler SOUTHERN FORTRESS. Time has passed. Villagers bring in a great harvest. Three of LYKOPIS’S WARRIORS laze in the heat of a warm day.]

WARRIOR #1:
Delightfully peaceful; I’d call this paradise.

WARRIOR #2:
Yes, anything is grander to the discomfort of life in the north.

WARRIOR #3:
Life can always be improved.

WARRIOR #1:
Fine fortune for we who serve … our Lady must be well satisfied.

WARRIOR #2:
If only she didn’t consort as much as she did with that Shashgaz. [Shivers.]

WARRIOR #3:
Ai. I have always said it is unnatural and foul, but our lady follows no one’s council save Shashgaz. I suppose it was only a manner of time before she took her slave to bed with her.

WARRIOR #1:
Unnatural is the word for it, I —

[The WARRIORS fall silent, rise and bow when LYKOPIS, now wearing the rich robes of a noble, enters silently. She moodily stares at them and then exits.]

][][

ACT II, SCENE II:

[SETTING: A room in another part of the castle that opens upon a courtyard. SHASHGAZ and LYKOPIS enter. As a warrior-class the Amazons were a single-sexed society; however, off the battlefield, in the privacy of their own homes, it was rumored that some kept male as well as female slaves and lovers. SHASHGAZ is both things to LYKOPIS, a slave that she captured in battle, as well as her lover and confidant. If the She-Wolf is the epitome of war-like female spirit, then SHASHGAZ is a slightly duller, more corrupt, male-mirror image; muscular, tricky of tongue, highly enjoying his role in manipulating his mistress.]

SHASHGAZ:
Is your heart resolved?

LYKOPIS:
No. I dreamt an evil dream, one enticed by demons. But I have decided to ignore everything the spirit world whispers to me. It is preposterous to wish that I were queen of Aphrodite’s Castle.

SHASHGAZ:
Do not call your dreams preposterous. Any warrior who takes bow in hand would dream of such treasures.

LYKOPIS:
No. I prefer to remain here in the south. I will serve my queen loyally. I wish to savor the peaceful life, now that I am loved.

SHASHGAZ:
You are not loved.

LYKOPIS:
What?

SHASHGAZ:
What if Penthesilea should disclose the prophecy you were told to our queen? If that happened we should not survive. You know, of course you now, that Marpesia would surround this castle with her army, jealous of the threat you pose to her authority. My Lady, you have but two paths ahead. Remain here and patiently wait for Marpesia to discover the truth and have you executed, or assassinate her first and become the queen of Aphrodite’s Castle.

LYKOPIS:
Slaying the queen would be high treason.

SHASHGAZ:
Did not Marpesia come to her own rank by slaying her predecessor?

LYKOPIS:
No, no, that only happened because the queen at the time doubted Marpesia and ordered her death. Marpesia trusts me. She treasures me.

SHASHGAZ:
Only because she does not know the depths of your own heart.

LYKOPIS:
My heart? There is nothing in my heart.

SHASHGAZ:
That is a lie.

LYKOPIS:
Ludicrous. I am … perfectly content with my lot at the Southern Fortress.

SHASHGAZ:
Indeed? Even if that were true, do you think Marpesia would trust you, once Penthesilea informed her of the prophecy?

LYKOPIS [angry]:
What? Penthesilea is … Penthesilea is my beloved friend from childhood. She is incapable of betrayal.

SHASHGAZ:
To rise in this world parents have been willing to kill their daughters, sell them into slavery, break them in the most horrible ways possible … you know this is true. It is a degenerate age. The only way a woman can escape a life of toil and misery is to be stronger than those who wish to enslave her. I cannot help wondering if Penthesilea, seeing you as an easy way not to be linked to the prophecy, has already informed Marpesia?

LYKOPIS:
Shashgaz, my love, do not speak of this again.

VOICE [off-stage]:
Lady!

[LYKOPIS rushes out into the courtyard. ATTENDANT #1 enters at a run.]

ATTENDANT #1 [bowing]:
I’ve just had word. There are three hundred warriors from Aphrodite’s Castle lurking in the woods. They have assembled in silence.

VOICE [off-stage]:
My Lady!

ATTENDANT #2 [entering and bowing]:
News for Lykopis, Lady of the Southern Fortress.

LYKOPIS:
What is it?

ATTENDANT #2:
My Lady, Queen Marpesia approaches.

LYKOPIS [calling out her WARRIORS]:
Women, form up your ranks! Form up your ranks! Fall in!

[There is a general commotion as armed Amazons rush on stage and begin to form ranks.]

ATTENDANT #2:
My lady, there is no need for that. Our queen is out hunting secretly and has asked for there not to be an official reception.

[Distant voices crying, “Open the gates! The queen is here! Open the gates!” LYKOPIS gives SHASHGAZ, who has been standing in the shadows, listening to all that has been said, a worried, meaningful glance then rushes off to meet her queen.]

][][

ACT II, SCENE III:

[The great hall of the SOUTHERN FORTRESS. QUEEN MARPESIA sits with her retainers and CHIEFTAINESSES. PENTHESILEA and LYKOPIS enter and bow.]

LYKOPIS:
My queen! Well done on your bountiful kill.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
No, no, the hunt was only a pretext so that I may deploy my warriors to attack that bastard Leonidas. His behavior is indefensible, despite the oaths that he swore. For tonight I shall quarter with you here while my forces secretly fortify our border. Then we shall attack when opportunity permits. Until then … not a word to anyone.

[LYKOPIS’ SLAVES enter, including a very passive SHASHGAZ, bringing cups of wine to all the noble women present.]

QUEEN MARPESIA [tasting the wine and finding it marvelous]:
Lykopis!

LYKOPIS [bowing once again] :
Madam.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Penthesilea!

PENTHESILEA [bowing]i:
Madam.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
I elevate you both in recognition of your courage. Lady Lykopis, you shall take my vanguard out to win glory for us all. Lady Penthesilea, you shall be commander of Aphrodite’s Castle in my absence.

LYKOPIS and PENTHESILEA [together]:
Madam!

[They stand and exit.]

][][

ACT II, SCENE IV:

[SETTING: LYKOPIS and SHASHGAZ’S private chambers.]

LYKOPIS [joyful]:
Shashgaz, my love, now your suspicions must come to an end. Our queen trusts me. Do not slander Penthesilea or Marpesia; that is how the evil spirits are able to talk through you.

SHASHGAZ:
Evil? No, I cannot agree with you.

LYKOPIS:
Yes, doubting is evil. Listen; the queen places her trust in me above all others. That is why she gave me the rank of vanguard commander, why she made me her Marpesia’s Hallowing.

SHASHGAZ:
The vanguard commander is vulnerable to the enemy on every side she turns. Marpesia is a harpy. With easy words, she cheats you of Aphrodite’s Castle. Instead she sends her right-hand. See? Penthesilea is now out of danger playing the easy job of being guard. She casts you, the one she wants out of the way, into danger. No one will think badly of her if you fall in battle. From the heights of her castle Marpesia will laugh as she watches you get filled with Spartan arrows like a pin-cushion.

LYKOPIS:
No! What you say is too horrible. These are my sisters … my blood. None of them would betray me.

SHASHGAZ:
My mistress, what madness are you speaking? Ever since Penthesilea fell and the tribes have fallen into fighting amongst themselves, what is the worth of a blood-oath from an Amazon? Did not Queen Kleoptoleme put all her chieftainesses to death for thinking that they were planning to usurp her? What of the twins, Okypous and Polemusa, who sold half their warriors into slavery in order to keep their throne safe? I know you are brave and noble and would do anything for a sovereign that you could trust, but Marpesia is one that you cannot — you should not — trust under any circumstance. Tonight we are holding a feast in her honor and you know what you must do, but even now your face betrays your feelings, my lady, and people will be able to read it like a book. In order to deceive them you should look like an innocent flower, but be like the viper that hides underneath the flower. Let me handle tonight’s preparations. What happens tonight shall make you the greatest Amazon the world has ever known.

[exit.]

][][

ACT II, SCENE V:

[Setting: Later that night in a different part of the castle. The stage is half in shadows, with the glow and noise of a celebration off-stage being the only lighting. SLAVES appear, carrying dishes of food into the large banquet hall. LYKOPIS, fleeing the festivities, enters the empty stage, standing half in shadow as she speaks.]

LYKOPIS [to herself]:
My queen has been here all day, so why does my heart still tremble? If murder could be forgotten the moment after committing it then it would be best to get it over with quickly. If the murder of the queen swept up everything, preventing any consequences, then murder would be the be-all and end-all. For that I would gladly put my soul at risk. But for crimes like these there are still punishments in this mortal world. The queen trusts me. I am her war-sister and her subject, and I am her host. Marpesia has been such a humble leader, so free of corruption that her virtuous legacy will speak for itself when she dies, as if angels were calling out the injustice of her murder already. Pity, like a horrible newborn monster, will ride the wind to spread news of the bloody deed to everyone. My sisters will shed a flood of tears that will drown the wind. I can’t urge myself to action. The only thing motivating me is ambition, which makes fools rush ahead into disaster.

[SHASHGAZ enters.]

LYKOPIS:
What news do you have?

SHASHGAZ:
Our queen has almost finished her last meal. Why did you leave the dining room?

LYKOPIS:
Has she asked for me?

SHASHGAZ:
Don’t you know that she has?

LYKOPIS [flustered]:
We can’t go on with this plan. My queen has just honored me. I want to enjoy these honors while they’re still fresh and not throw them away too soon.

SHASHGAZ:
My lady, where I come from being called “womanly” is an insult; and yet when I am here I find that you have somehow tuned it into a word of honor. So tell me, were you drunk when you seemed so eager just moments before? Have you spent too much time with the Greeks and woken up green and pale with fear as their women do? From now on this is what I’ll think of you: afraid to act on your desires. Will you take the crown that you want so badly … or will you live as a coward, always saying “I can’t” when the Fates give you an opportunity. You are womanly, my lady, just make sure that the word isn’t spoken as a curse.

LYKOPIS:
Please, stop! I want to do only what is proper for a warrior to do.

SHASHGAZ:
“Proper?” If you aren’t a warrior, then what kind of beast were you when you first told me you wanted to do this? When you dared to do it, that’s when you were a warrior. The time and place are good, but it seems that they’re almost too good for you.

LYKOPIS:
But if we fail?

SHASHGAZ:
The greatest Amazon in history shall not fail. When Marpesia is asleep I’ll get her guards so drunk that their memory will go up in smoke through the chimney of their brain. When they lie asleep like pigs, dead to the world, what won’t you and I be able to do to the imprudent Marpesia? All that the heart craves.

[They exit.]

][][

ACT II, SCENE VI:

[SETTING: The door leading to the private chambers of QUEEN MARPESIA. Three PERSIAN GUARDS sit at vigil before it. Two MAIDS enter.]

PERSIAN GUARD #1 [issuing a challenge]:
Who’s there?

PERSIAN GUARD #2:
We are the queen’s personal guards. Do not walk any further. That way lies the queen’s sleeping quarters. No one may approach her.

MAID #1:
I do not seek her quarters. I come to air the sealed chamber.

PERSIAN GUARD #3:
What sealed chamber?

MAID #2:
It is the place where the wife of Antimachos, Lady Teisipyte, took her life. No scrubbing will cleanse the bloodstained floor; so the chamber has remained locked until a soothsayer can be called.

PERSIAN GUARD #2:
Why open the room now?

MAID #1:
Our honored Queen Marpesia sleeps in our Lady’s chambers, consequently she must sleep the night here.

PERSIAN GUARD #1:
I thank you for your labors. You may pass.

[The two MAIDS bow and exit.]

][][

ACT II, SCENE VII:

[SETTING: The SEALED ROOM. In one corner there is a terrifically large bloodstain. It looks fresh. The two MAIDS enter, carrying lanterns.]

MAID #1:
Most peculiar. Though my mistress has waded through endless mires of dead, these blood stains never fails to chill my spine.

MAID #2 [looking around]:
Of course, this is dog’s blood, the blood of the wife of a traitor.

[The two approach the supernatural blood stain. Pause. Suddenly a raven shrieks from off-stage.]

MAID #1 [unnerved]:
Gaia curse it, even the birds cry ominously tonight.

[exit.]

][][

ACT II, SCENE VIII:

[SETTING: LYKOPIS and SHASHGAZ’S private chambers.]

SHASHGAZ:
You accuse me of doubting. Yet even I cannot help but trust the prophecy. Open your eyes and look for yourself. Each part of that prophecy has come to pass without the slightest help from you. Queen Marpesia herself has placed herself into your very hands. If you let this night pass, such an opportunity will never come again.

LYKOPIS:
However … under what pretext can I commit high treason? In any case, all her women will turn against me.

SHASHGAZ:
Though Marpesia claims to trust you, she’s left Pyrgomache’s women to guard her. This is our good fortune. We’ll quench their thirst with a sleeping potion mixed in wine. As her guards dream, you shall slay Marpesia, and denounce Pyrgomache as the murderer to her own women.

[The same raven call as heard in the SEALED ROOM.]

SHASHGAZ:
What do you hear in that bird’s cry? ”Will you risk the world?” So it sounds to me. From your stronghold and Aphrodite’s Labyrinth you may yet aspire to the world. The cry is from heaven.

[Enter the two MAIDS.]

SHASHGAZ:
Who’s there?

MAID #1 [to LYKOPIS]:
Your sleeping quarters are ready, my lady.

SHASHGAZ:
Good work. How did you leave the Marpesia’s guards?

MAID #2:
With swords poised they maintain their sleepless vigil.

SHASHGAZ:
Indeed they do. Let us offer them some wine, then.

[SHASHGAZ crosses the stage and brings out a large clay jar full of wine. He silently hands it over to the MAIDS. They exit with it.]

][][

ACT II, SCENE IX:

[Setting: A dark hallway. PENTHESILEA, half-drunk from the evening’s celebrations, enters with her daughter, PHOEBE, who lights the way with a lantern.]

PENTHESILEA:
How’s the night going, my girl?

PHOEBE:
The moon has set. The guard hasn’t called the hour yet.

PENTHESILEA:
The moon set at midnight, right?

PHOEBE:
I think it’s later than that, mother.

PENTHESILEA:
Here, take my sword. Selene is being stingy with her light. I’m tired and feeling heavy, but I can’t sleep. Merciful Gaia, keep away the nightmares that plague me when I rest!

[LYKOPIS enters with SHASHGAZ, who carries a lantern of his own.]

PENTHESILEA [to her daughter]:
Give me back my sword. [Calling.] Who’s there?

LYKOPIS:
A loved comrade.

PENTHESILEA [relaxing]:
You’re not asleep yet, my dear lady? The queen’s in bed. I would be too, if I could sleep.

LYKOPIS:
Forgive me. We were unprepared for the queen’s visit, as you know; we weren’t able to distract her as well as we would have wanted to.

PENTHESILEA [laughing]:
Everything’s fine. I had a dream last night about the three Erinyes. At least part of what they said about you has come true.

LYKOPIS:
I don’t think about them now. But when we have an hour to spare we can talk more about it … if you’re willing.

PENTHESILEA:
Whenever you’d like, my love.

LYKOPIS:
Rest easy in the meantime.

PENTHESILEA:
Thank you, sister. But we seemed to have lost the way. Can you send your slave with us? I don’t want to get found wandering the halls at odd hours.

LYKOPIS:
Of course. [to SHASHGAZ] Please take my honored guests — sister and her daughter — to their chambers. Then you may turn in for the night.

[PENTHESILEA, PHOEBE and SHASHGAZ exits.]

[LYKOPIS glances up and down the dark hall that she finally finds herself in. She is dazed, haggard. She turns to exit but swings back with a horrified cry.]

LYKOPIS [frightened, pressing herself against the wall]:
Is this a dagger that I see before me? Its pommel points toward my hand. [To the dagger.] Come, let me hold you. [She grabs at the air in front of her without touching anything.] I can’t hold you but I can still see you. Fateful apparition, isn’t it possible to touch you as well as see you? Or are you nothing more than a ghost dagger, a phantasm blade from my fevered brain? You look as real as this one. [She draws out a second dagger.] My eyesight, like my nerves, must be failing. I can still see you, dagger; I see blood splotches now, all over your blade and handle, that weren’t there a moment before. [Blinks in confusion.] Ai! There’s no dagger now. It’s the murder that I’m about to commit that’s making me think I see one. Let half the world sleep and be deceived by nightmares. Furies are offering sacrifices to their goddess, Nix. The hard ground does not listen to the direction of my steps, but while I stand here Marpesia still lives. Too much thinking cools the mind and dulls the blade.

[A bell rings off-stage.]

LYKOPIS [as if waking from a dream]:
So be it. The bell commands me. Don’t listen to the tolling, Marpesia, for it is the voice of Charon, ready to lead you down to hell.

][][

ACT II, SCENE X:

[SETTING: LYKOPIS and SHASHGAZ’S private chambers. SHASHGAZ waits patiently. Suddenly LYKOPIS enters carrying two bloody daggers.]

LYKOPIS [dumb, in shock]:
I have done the deed. Did you hear a noise?

SHASHGAZ:
I’ve heard the crickets crying all night and a raven scream.

LYKOPIS:
A raven? When?

SHASHGAZ:
Just now.

LYKOPIS:
As I entered?

SHASHGAZ:
Yes.

LYKOPIS [looking at her bloody hands]:
This is a sorry sight.

SHASHGAZ:
That’s an ill-advised thing to say.

LYKOPIS:
One guard cried, “Great Hera save us!” and the other replied, “Murderer!” as if they had seen my hands stained red with blood.

SHASHGAZ:
Don’t think about it too much.

LYKOPIS:
But why did they call upon Hera if they did not know the horror I had just committed?

SHASHGAZ:
Why, my fearful warrior, you let yourself think about things in a cowardly manner. Go get some water and wash this blood from your hands. Wait. Why did you carry these daggers out of the room? They have to be found there. Go take them back and smear the sleeping guards with the blood.

LYKOPIS:
I … I can’t go back. I’m afraid even to think about what I’ve done.

SHASHGAZ [grabbing the daggers]:
The dead and sleeping can’t hurt you anymore than shadows on the wall can. Only children are afraid of shadows. If Marpesia bleeds I’ll soak her slaves’ faces with their queen’s blood. We must make it seem like they’re the guilty ones. [He exits.]

[A sound of knocking from offstage.]

LYKOPIS:
Where is that knocking coming from? What’s happened to me? I’m frightened of every noise. [Looking at her hands.] Whose hands are these? [Laughs and in a sing-song voice.] “They’re not hands,/ their claws, a wolf’s paws,/ they’ll pluck out my own eyes.” [Presses her fingers to her eyes, leaving long red streaks down her face. Pause, full of dread.] Will all of the ocean be able to wash this blood from my hands? No, instead my hands will stain the sea red, turning the deep green into a scarlet tide.

[SHASHGAZ enters.]

SHASHGAZ [holds up his palms]:
My hands are as red as yours now, but I would be ashamed if my heart were half so pale and weak.

[The knocking is repeated from offstage.]

SHASHGAZ:
I hear someone knocking at the south gate. Let’s go back to our bedroom. A little water will wash away the evidence of our guilt. It’s so simple and yet you’ve lost your resolve.

LYKOPIS [dazed]:
“My resolve”?

[Knocking.]

SHASHGAZ:
Listen! There’s more knocking. Put on your nightgown, wash your face, cover your breasts.

[Knocking.]

LYKOPIS [still hasn’t moved; gazing in shock up at SHASHGAZ]:
Terrible Lady Nix, only you can wake poor Marpesia with your knocking now … only you can calm her raging soul …

[Darkness.]

][][

Act III, Scene I:

[Setting: The courtyard of the SOUTHERN FORTRESS. Guards stand at the doors leading to the outside. LYKOPIS enters, freshly dressed, clean and looking rested. With a nod from her the guards open the outer doors. PYRGOMACHE and HIPPOTHOE enter.]

HIPPOTHOE:
Good morning, sister and noble madam.

LYKOPIS:
Good morning to both of you.

PYRGOMACHE:
Is the queen awake?

LYKOPIS:
Not yet.

PYRGOMACHE:
She commanded me to wake her up early. [Laughing.] I’ve almost missed the time she requested.

LYKOPIS:
I’ll bring you to her.

PYRGOMACHE:
I know the problems of accommodating her is both an honor and a trouble, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a trouble just the same.

LYKOPIS [smiling]:
Nonsense. Any “trouble” that we enjoy is not really trouble at all. How did you sleep?

HIPPOTHOE:
The night has been chaotic. The wind blew down through the chimneys where we were sleeping. People are saying they heard cries of grief in the air, strange screams of death and terrible voices predicting catastrophes that will usher in a new miserable age. Some people say that the earth shook and a raven cried and cried all night.

LYKOPIS:
Odd. Follow me. [Leading them across the courtyard.] This is the door. [She sees the three PERSIAN GUARDS, still drugged and unconscious, with wine glasses and the earthen pot sitting in front of them.] Wait — what is this?

PYRGOMACHE [rushing up]:
Drunk? Drunk!

LYKOPIS:
Check the queen!

[HIPPOTHOE, LYKOPIS and PYRGOMACHE exit.]

VOICES [off-stage]:
Horror! Horror! Horror!

[HIPPOTHOE, LYKOPIS and PYRGOMACHE enter, shocked, distraught.]

PYRGOMACHE:
Oh, this is beyond words and beyond belief!

LYKOPIS:
Under my own roof! Betrayed!

HIPPOTHOE:
The worst thing imaginable has happened. A thief has broken into Hera’s temple and stolen all that was good and glorious from it.

PYRGOMACHE [shouting]:
Wake up, wake up! Ring the alarm bell. Murder and treason! Penthesilea and Malapadia! Wake up! Get up, get up, and look at this image of Armageddon! Sisters! Get up from your beds as if you were rising out of your own graves, come witness this horror. Ring the bell!

[A bell rings. PENTHESILEA and MALAPADIA and several CHIEFTAINESSES enter.]

MALAPADIA:
Has something happened?

LYKOPIS:
Only the foulest deed our tribe has ever faced.

PENTHESILEA:
What?

PYRGOMACHE:
The queen has been murdered.

MALAPADIA [shocked]:
Who did it?

[The three PERSIAN GUARDS groggily attempt to rise.]

LYKOPIS [before anyone can stop her, rushing forward and killing each with her sword]:
Traitors!

[Darkness.]

][][

Act III, Scene II:

[Setting: The next day. QUEEN MARPESIA’S body is being prepared for funeral. PENTHESILEA has hurriedly returned to APHRODITE’S CASTLE. In another part of the SOUTHERN FORTRESS, MALAPADIA and PYRGOMACHE meet in a deserted hallway.]

MALAPADIA:
Sister and aunt, why are we keeping quiet? The two of us have the most to say in this matter.

PYRGOMACHE [worried, glancing around]:
Why are we staying in a place where danger will be waiting to strike at us from anywhere? Let’s get out of here. We haven’t even begun to weep yet … but there will be time for that later.

MALAPADIA [grimly]:
Ai. I’m putting myself in Great Hera’s hands, and with her help I plan to fight against this plot that caused such treasonous murder. I’m going to Delphi.

PYRGOMACHE:
I’ll go to Tripolis. We haven’t yet encountered that danger, and the best thing to do is avoid it entirely. Let’s get to our horses. There’s good reason to escape when there’s no mercy to be found at home.

[They exit.]

][][

Act III, Scene III:

[SETTING: Out on the wasteland between APHRODITE’S CASTLE and the LABYRINTH. LYKOPIS enters, leading her troops, hunting for the princess and the general.]

LYKOPIS:
Find the traitors! Find the assassins. Pyrgomache is our enemy. Where’s Pyrgomache? She was nearly ours.

WARRIOR #1:
My lady, she fled to the castle with the princess.

LYKOPIS:
What? To the castle with the princess? Great Hera! Aphrodite’s Castle is in Penthesilea’s command now. If she admits those two … admitting those traitors insults our queen. Give chase. We must capture them!

[exit.]

][][

Act III, Scene IV:

[SETTING: At the outer gates of APHRODITE’S CASTLE. MALAPADIA and PYRGOMACHE enter.]

PYRGOMACHE [shouting]:
Please bring Lady Penthesilea to the gates! Marpesia did not die tragically by drunken guards or Leonidas’ spies; it was at Lykopis’ treasonous hand. I, Pyrgomache, fought my way back to this castle with the princess under my protection. Open the gates!

MALAPADIA:
Open the gates.

[The gates remain closed. No indication that anyone inside is even listening.]

PYRGOMACHE [panic in her voice]:
Lady Penthesilea! Lykopis will be here in moments.

MALAPADIA:
Open the gates.

PYRGOMACHE:
Penthesilea, how dare you?

[LYKOPIS and her troops enter.]

WARRIOR #1:
There they are! Strike them, my Lady! Kill the traitors.

LYKOPIS:
No, hold back.

[MALAPADIA and PYRGOMACHE exit.]

LYKOPIS:
We cannot move until we understand Penthesilea’s allegiance. With Marpesia gone, Penthesilea may try to usurp the throne herself; then Penthesilea would become our next enemy.

[HIPPOTHOE, leading a royal honor guard, enters, carrying QUEEN MARPESIA’S coffin.]

LYKOPIS:
What is this?

HIPPOTHOE [stepping forward]:
Lady, if Penthesilea refuses to open the gates for the living, then we must approach bearing the Marpesia’s coffin. There are too many traitors in this tribe, I wish to cut out all who refuse to yield.

LYKOPIS [striding up to the gates and shouting]:
Open the gates! Queen Marpesia returns! Open the gates! Lykopis will enter, guarding the Marpesia’s coffin.

[Slowly the gates swing open, as the funeral procession approaches. PENTHESILEA meets them at the gates. LYKOPIS and her childhood friend embrace. As they enter, sound of slaves crying off-stage.]

LYKOPIS:
What happened to the queen’s lady?

PENTHESILEA:
Telepyleia has taken her life. She could not bear to see an enemy occupy the castle. Surely the evil spirits prophesied the truth. With Marpesia gone King Leonidas will surely attempt to conquer our lands. He will come in force. You alone, sister, have the strength to defend this castle. I will argue the justice of this before the Council of Tribes. I say this only as a compliment, but we need a brutal queen if we are to survive.

[all exit.]

][][

Act III, Scene V:

[SETTING: A tower in the fog-hidden APHRODITE’S CASTLE. A month has passed and LYKOPIS has been made queen. Rumors of war against the SPARTANS can be heard everywhere. Several of LYKOPIS’S WARRIOR stand guard, peering through the murk.]

WARRIOR #1:
Where is the border from here?

WARRIOR #2:
At the foot of those mountains, see?

WARRIOR #1:
From this height, it seems that we hold almost nothing.

WARRIOR #3:
Kingdoms can always be expanded upon.

WARRIOR #2:
Unless the Fates have a say in the matter. Poor Lady Penthesila, first she is the commander of this castle then she gets demoted and sent back to the Red Stronghold, without even complaining. That is the true warrior spirit.

[Darkness.]

][][

Act III, Scene VI:

[SETTING: In the courtyard of the RED STRONGHOLD. PENTHESILEA and her daughter, PHOEBE, enter.]

PHOEBE [in heated conversation]:
Mother, as I have said already, I am grateful for these honors–

PENTHESILEA:
Yet you complain?

PHOEBE:
No, I air no grievances. But I refuse to trust evil spirits’ prophecy. That is crazy.

PENTHESILEA:
Crazy? I saw it clearly with my own eyes. As for my sister, my dear Lykopis, the prophecies have been fulfilled.

PHOEBE:
Mother, such reasoning only makes sense if you yourself are possessed. The spirits have tricked you into fulfilling their own prophecies, not yours, and now you believe they have come true. Is that wisdom?

PENTHESILEA:
Believe what you want, child. However, those same spirits said that you would become queen of our tribe. I’ve never wanted the title myself for I do not have the stomach for the kind of dirty dealings a woman must undertake to be a sovereign. But now that Lykopis is queen and you after her, then perhaps the Amazons will finally enjoy peace.

[exit.]

][][

Act III, Scene VII:

[SETTING: A lavish banquet hall. QUEEN LYKOPIS is entertaining her guests. The chairs at the table reserved for PENTHESILEA and PHOEBE are empty. LYKOPIS is upset and drinking heavily to mask her nerves.]

LADY #1:
Where can Lady Penthesilea be?

LADY #2:
Our queen is vexed by such rudeness.

LADY #1:
Ai. Such impudence is unlike Penthesilea.

[HIPPOTHOE stands and performs a swift Grecian dance, then begins to entertain by reciting a poem.]

HIPPOTHOE:
Terrible goddesses, hear and attend. The very same tale foretold in ancient legend. Queen Anaea, conqueror from the Thermodontine tribe, named a city after herself and her tomb lies there. It was she whose devilish appetites served her traitorous schemes; yet when her warriors murdered her in betrayal their royal treachery only brought their own ruin. So it came to pass–

LYKOPIS [distraught]:
That’s enough! Enough of your damn, boring Homer …

HIPPOTHOE [quickly bowing]:
My lady.

[HIPPOTHOE returns to her seat. There is a long pause while LYKOPIS gets drunker and drunker, scowling at everyone in front of her. Suddenly the GHOST OF PENTHESILEA, naked, bloody, hair undone, bone-white, appears in her chair.]

LYKOPIS [terrified, jumping to her feet]:
Damn you, Penthesilea! [Shocked.]What are you doing here? [Runs across the room to the great alarm of her other guests who can’t see what she sees.] Be gone, damned ghost, be gone!

SHASHGAZ [rising]:
My lady! [To the guests.] Great ladies, I beg of you, please calm yourselves. Our queen drank too much. [Starts to laugh as if his mistress’ behavior was a prank.] Lately, she is often this way when she has had too much to drink.

LADY #1 [angrily]:
The cheek of it! A slave telling us what is the matter?

LADY #2:
I say let’s make a castrati out of him and see how he sings.

LYKOPIS [slowly sitting back down, staring at her guests]:
Forgive me, sisters. I’m terribly drunk. [Pause.] What’s wrong? [Angrily] Will you women not take a drop with me?

[Once again LYKOPIS goes back to her scowling. Suddenly the GHOST OF PENTHESILEA reappears. LYKOPIS staggers to her feet.]

LYKOPIS:
There she is again! [Throws her cup at ghost. Runs to grab her sword. Guests jump to their feet as she swings the naked blade around.] If you accuse me draw your sword and fight! I’ll murder you once again! [Slashes angrily at the empty air above PENTHESILEA’S chair. Turns wildly upon her guests.] All of you, get out of here! Be gone!

[The guests, shocked, all bow and exit. Soon LYKOPIS and SHASHGAZ are alone.]

SHASHGAZ [sarcastically]:
Well done. Brilliant. The greatest Amazon, her ambitions set on the world, terrorized and undone by phantoms found at the bottom of her wine cup. [She turns, sees a shadowy figure, the ASSASSIN, sitting quietly in one corner, holding a box tied with string.] Who’s there?

ASSASSIN: [approaching, setting the box down in front of LYKOPIS]:
My queen, I bring Lady Penthesilea with me … [Begins to open the box.]

LYKOPIS:
Only one? What of her daughter?

ASSASSIN:
I wounded her, but she escaped, clinging to her horse.

LYKOPIS:
What? She escaped?

ASSASSIN:
Forgive me, my queen, I have no excuse.

[SHASHGAZ exits, smirking. LYKOPIS, in a fit of anger, kills the ASSASSIN. She walks, dazed, over to the table where her helmet and sword rest. Stares at them.]

LYKOPIS [screams]:
Fool! [Begins to laugh madly.] Fool.

VOICE [off-stage]:
My queen!

[GUARD #1 rushes in.]

GUARD #1 [entering]:
My queen, a messenger from the North Fortress.

LYKOPIS:
What? [MESSENGER #1 enters and bows.] What is it?

MESSENGER #1:
Leonidas’s men swarmed our border. They are taking the North Fortress. Pyrgomache leads the vanguard, swearing vengeance.

MESSENGER #2 [entering]:
My queen! The Western Fortress is surrounded! Penthesilea’s daughter commands them.

MESSENGER #3 [entering]:
The Southern Fortress is lost; our enemy has joined forces and approaches the Eastern Fortress.

LYKOPIS:
Call up all chieftainesses still loyal to their queen. Let the traitors strike as they may, I will not yield one bloody yard.

[all exit.]

][][

Act IV, Scene I:

[SETTING: The outer gates of APHRODITE’S CASTLE. A great wind blows, causing the GUARDS to seek shelter next to the wall.]

GUARD #1:
A fierce wind blows as if to shake down the castle to its foundation.

GUARD #2:
These foundations already tremble, without need of any wind.

GUARD #3:
Today, even chieftainesses and fortress commanders, who once paid court, are hardly seen.

GUARD #2:
Let sleeping dogs lie.

GUARD #1:
Two chieftainesses, whom our queen doubted, were forced to take their lives.

GUARD #3:
Hard to believe it was Leonidas’s spies that murdered Penthesilea.

GUARD #1:
I’ve heard tell that Penthesilea’s daughter has taken shelter with Leonidas. Only a fool would side with her father’s enemy.

GUARD #2:
They say even Pyrgomache and our last princess have pledged themselves to Leonidas as well.

GUARD #3:
What will come of all this?

GUARD #1:
I heard a guard of the watch say that she saw a pack of rats fleeing the castle grounds.

GUARD #3:
They always say, “Rats flee a house before it burns down. “

GUARD #1:
Hera! The wind!

[Howling darkness.]

][][

Act IV, Scene II:

[SETTING: The same lavish banquet hall LYKOPIS used to entertain her guests. Now it is a council of war. Unlike QUEEN MARPESIA’S war council in the start of the play, there is no signs of hope in the faces of the AMAZON CHIEFTESSES gathered here, just grim determination to fight until the last for their queen.]

LYKOPIS [to her silent AMAZON CHIEFTESSES]:
Cowards! Whimpering men! It has been two hours since I called council. How can we meet this attack? [Long pause.] Ludicrous! Enough with you old women. What do I need the advice of cowards for? Little monsters who quake and pale under fire? [Great roll of thunder and lightning. This gives LYKOPIS an idea.] Bring my horse! My horse!

][][

Act IV, Scene III:

[SETTING: The ghost-like hut in APHRODITE’S LABYRINTH. The three ERINYES with their spinning wheels sit in front of it.]

TISIPHONE:
By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

[LYKOPIS enters.]

ALECTO:
Who do we have here?

MEGAERA :
Ai. Is this not the queen of Aphrodite’s Castle?

TISIPHONE:
Riding far from home on the night when the enemy comes a’knocking.

LYKOPIS:
Damn you. Answer me plainly. Is it true Penthesilea’s daughter will be queen of Aphrodite’s Castle?

ALECTO:
So I see that you have finally come to the end of your path.

MEGAERA:
You have done well.

TISIPHONE:
You have done well.

LYKOPIS :
Damn you. Tell me. If you have the power, prophesy the result of this battle.

ALECTO [laughing]:
You may set your fears to rest.

MEGAERA:
Until the very trees of Aphrodite’s Labyrinth rise against Aphrodite’s Castle…

TISIPHONE:
… you will not be defeated in battle.

LYKOPIS [amazed and raving as if struck mad]:
The trees rise to attack? [Laughs.] Such a thing is impossible. Which means, I will not be defeated in battle? But what of this impossibly? We are cut from tin and uncertainty. Soldiering on and that sick joke. That sick joke. That. Same token. I don’t want to live or die. I am unfit for both. See? See? I am like the high mountains that sketch out the sky. Catch a fire; wretch that I am. Off hand I’d say that all jokes are sick. On hand it’s hard to see rebirth as an inheritance. Even if we could do it. I just don’t want to be yoked, ox. Soldiering on.The Earth understands. Lady Hera, weep for me.

[Darkness.]

][][

Act IV, Scene IV:

[SETTING: A field with a great host gathered, ready for war. War drums and the sound of horses and soldiers. PRINCESS MALAPADIA, LADY PYRGOMACHE and PHOEBE enter.]

PYRGOMACHE [addressing the troops]:
Heed this. The Aphrodite’s Labyrinth is nothing but a spider’s web. Do not let the hills lure you in. Avoid the all trails save the one I will lead you on. If all goes as planned tomorrow evening we shall have the head of the traitorous she-wolf hanging on a spear outside my tent.

[all exit.]

][][

Act IV, Scene V:

[SETTING: The courtyard in APHRODITE’S CASTLE filled with warriors. LYKOPIS, having returned, receives bad news.]

LYKOPIS:
What? My troops hidden in the maze have withdrawn? Cowards! The chieftainesses who lay in wait withdrew without firing a single arrow?

HIPPOTHOE:
Pyrgomache knows the hills. We cannot entrap her.

[LYKOPIS considers this for a moment, then runs across the stage and climbs up to a tower. Stares down at her waiting troops and begins to laugh.]

LYKOPIS:
Amazons, I was thoughtless … [Addresses all present.] Sisters, hear me. In battle, the final victor takes all. Skirmishes mean nothing. Take heart. I, Queen Lykopis, demand your trust. On no account shall I meet defeat in battle. If you do not believe me then I’ll tell you why. This happened when I still commanded the Northern Fortress. As I returned to the Castle after destroying Antimachos and her mutiny, I saw three evil spirits in Aphrodite’s Labyrinth. According to their prophecy, I would become Marpesia’s Hallowing, and later, queen of this Castle. Behold my fate. The prophecy foretold my destiny precisely. Today I spurred my steed back into the Labyrinth to ask the spirits of my fortune once more. Rejoice, sisters. No one will defeat me, though heaven descends and the earth buckles up to touch it. The spirits told me, until the trees of Aphrodite’s Labyrinth rise to attack our Castle that I shall never be defeated on the battlefield. Women! Amazons! Sisters! Tell me. Do trees attack? [Her troops all laugh. LYKOPIS joins them.] Those of you, the ones who trust in my fate, raise your swords and follow me! [Her troops cheer her on as all exit.]

][][

Act IV, Scene VI:

[SETTING: Night. The watch tower at APHRODITE’S CASTLE. The guards are on edge.]

GUARD #1:
Can’t see a thing.

GUARD #2:
Hey. What is the enemy plotting that allows them to work without a single torch?

GUARD #3 [hearing the sound of distant hammering]:
What can that be?

GUARD #1:
No doubt they’ve abandoned their attack to build defenses.

][][

Act IV, Scene VII:

[SETTING: The next day. LYKOPIS and her AMAZON CHIEFTESSES sit, waiting. The air is oppressive. Long pause.]

LYKOPIS [frowning]:
Even the formidable Pyrgomache has no power against these legendary fortifications. The attackers can see nothing inside the castle. Yet we have a bird’s-eye view of them. If they do attack us, let them draw near and then shower them with arrows.

VOICE [off-stage]:
My lady!

[Alarmed, LYKOPIS strides across the courtyard to her private chambers. A NURSE greets her at the door.]

NURSE [bowing miserably]:
My lady.

[ LYKOPIS stares in horror. SHASHGAZ is on his hands and knees, frantically trying to clean his hands in a bucket of water.]

SHASHGAZ [moaning]:
It won’t come out. — What an awful bloodstain. — No matter how I wash it, why won’t this blood wash away? — It reeks of blood even now. — Why can I not clean this blood from my hands? —

LYKOPIS [rushes right up to him, shouts in his ear]:
Shashgaz!

SHASHGAZ [as if he were by himself]:
What is the matter with this blood? — The stain will not leave my hands. — No matter how many times I wash and wash again, — still these hands reek of blood —

LYKOPIS [grabbing at his hands, knocking the bucket away, shouting again]:
Shashgaz! Shashgaz!

SHASHGAZ [goes on rubbing hands together]:
This awful stain of blood —

NURSE:
My queen! What shall we do?

LYKOPIS:
I’ve almost forgotten what fear feels like. There was a time when I would have been terrified by a shriek in the night, and the hair on my skin would have stood up when I heard a ghost story. But now I’ve had my fill of real horrors. Horrible things are so familiar that they can’t startle me.

[Suddenly the sound of battle reaches LYKOPIS’S ears. Clearly torn between staying with SHASHGAZ and confronting the enemy she rushes into the courtyard. Her troops are fleeing in panic.]

LYKOPIS:
Fools! Why this confusion as victory approaches? Quiet down. Quiet down, I order you!

A CHIEFTAINESS [pointing in horror]:
My queen! The trees, the trees of Aphrodite’s Labyrinth!

LYKOPIS:
What about them?

WARRIOR:
The trees have left the hills and are attacking us!

LYKOPIS:
Ludicrous. A coward’s delusion. If you are lying, you’ll hang alive until you die of pain and hunger. How can trees move? [Rushes to the tower, her WARRIORS pause in their retreat to stare at her. She peers out into the fog. Dimly a line of trees can be seen moving forward. LYKOPIS is speechless. Turning to her troops she shouts.] What is this? Hold your positions! Do not yield. Return to your positions. [Nobody moves. Suddenly an arrow, shot by one of her own WARRIORS, strikes the wall near her.] Cowards! I see it now. You’ll murder me and offer my head when you surrender! [An arrow strikes her in the belly. LYKOPIS cries out.] You traitors! [More arrows are fired, blocking her escape. Another strikes her. Then another.] Murdering a queen is high treason!

HIPPOTHOE:
Who killed our Queen Marpesia?

[More and more arrows strike LYKOPIS. She has become a pin cushion. Finally a single arrow lodges deep in her throat. Her troops back away in fright as she approaches. She tries to draw her sword, staggers and falls to the ground. Dead.]

][][

Act IV, Scene VIII:

[SETTING: Fog rolls in, replacing the landscape back to its original stunted wastes as seen in the first act of the play; fog and black volcanic rock. APHRODITE’S CASTLE returns to ruins.]

CHORUS [coming on-stage, singing]:
See? She trailed her claws through the long moonlight
streaks; all that remained of those who denied

a wolf her ambitions; haunted tonight
by the ghosts of those who perished inside.

A scene of carnage born of desire.
A scene not fit for anyone who thought

a queen had honor; a She-Wolf’s empire
crumbled. A riddle that even the Sphinx

could not answer. Lust: never changing now
or all throughout history. Why? Answers

puddled under our knees, filled our wide, dumb,
gapping mouths; we all drowned not knowing how

to read. Foolish hubris; as if slaughter
and war brought any sister her wisdom.

[Curtain. Fini.]

she-wolf: a new retelling of macbeth [act ii]

04 Wednesday Jun 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in drama

≈ Comments Off on she-wolf: a new retelling of macbeth [act ii]

Tags

Amazon queen, Amazon warrior, amazonomachy, drama, Macbeth, remix, Shakespeare, She-Wolf

[Setting: The interior of QUEEN MARPESIA’S extravagant royal tent. It is huge, crammed with valuables from all her many military campaigns — Trojan knickknacks, Persian vases, Armenian carpets hanging on the walls, a bed from China, a Mongolian rug on the floor, etc.]

[With a flourish QUEEN MARPESIA, HIPPOTHOE, MALAPADIA and ORITHIA enter. MARPESIA is still in her shiny armor, though HIPPOTHOE carries her helmet and sheathed sword. During MARPESIA’S monologue SLAVES come forward and undress their queen, hanging her armor, helmet and sword on a wooden mannequin off in one corner.]

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Glory. The white almond is stripped away
from its green husk. Glory. As I wandered

along my city streets — under archway,
through door — I saw nothing that I treasured

more than the Women of the Red Horses;
with their belts spun of gold and their quivers

full of arrows. They were like the Graces,
if the Graces were ever warriors.

Glory. I love my horse-riders. Naked
on their steeds. Naked in battle. Night birds

are not as beautiful as you are — rude,
riding hard, burning down the world. My blood

burns for you. Glory as you ride homewards.
Be man’s nightmare: women fierce, divine, nude.

[LYKOPIS, PENTHESILEA, TECMESSA and THRASO enter.]

QUEEN MARPESIA [to LYKOPIS]:
My worthiest sister! Just this moment I was feeling guilty of ungratefulness. You have done so much for us that it is impossible to reward you as it should be. If only you had done less then perhaps my thanks would match your deeds. [Laughs at own jokes.] All I can say now is that you are owned more than I can repay back.

LYKOPIS:
To serve you is my greatest reward, my queen. It is I who owe you. My duty to you and our sisters is like the duty of a daughter to all her many mothers.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
You are welcome here. By making you Marpesia’s Hallowing I have planted the seeds for an incredible future for you. Please allow me to make sure that they grow. [To PENTHESILEA.] Loyal Lady Penthesilea, you deserve no less than Lady Lykopis. Let me embrace you and I shall give you the benefit of all my heart.

PENTHESILEA:
My queen, if I accomplish anything in this life then know that all the glory is because of you.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
How is it that joyfulness can make me weep? My daughters, sisters, chieftesses — and all those closest to me — I want you to witness that I am bestowing a new title on my eldest daughter, the Lady Malapadia. Today I shall name her the Princess of Potidaea. But that will not be the only honor that I give. [To LYKOPIS.] Your queen asks a favor, let’s go to your castle at Cirra, I wish to have a taste of your hospitality.

LYKOPIS:
Serving you is my greatest joy. I will go now and tell my slaves the good news that you are coming.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Now I know why Athena has blessed you as the greatest and most worthy.

LYKOPIS [to herself]:
Malapadia is now the princess of Potidaea? To become queen myself I shall either have to step over her or lay down my ambition. Great Hera, hide my pride so that no one can see the terrible desires that lurk within me. If the hand is brave then the eye must be a coward for it always hesitates at what the hand must do to see things done.

[LYKOPIS exits.]

QUEEN MARPESIA [to PENTHESILEA, nodding in agreement]:
You’re right, dear Penthesilea; Lady Lykopis is every bit as heroic and bold as you say. I feel drunk because of her. If it is her duty to lead then it is ours to follow. She is a woman without equal.

[They exit.]

][][

[The slave SHASHGAZ enters, reading a letter. As a warrior-class the Amazons were a single-sexed society; however, off the battlefield, in the privacy of their own lives, it was rumored that many kept male as well as female slaves and lovers. SHASHGAZ is both things to LYKOPIS, a slave that she captured in battle, as well as her lover and confidant. If the She-Wolf is the epitome of war-like female spirit, then SHASHGAZ is a slightly duller, more corrupt, mirror image; muscular, tricky of tongue, highly enjoying his role in manipulating his mistress.]

SHASHGAZ [reading out loud]:
“The Furies met me on my return from my victory in battle. When I tried to question them they vanished into thin air. While I stood mesmerized two of my sisters from the queen arrived and greeted me as Marpesia’s Hallowing, which is precisely how those weird witches saluted me before calling me ’the forthcoming queen!’ I thought I should tell you this so that you might rejoice as well in my incredible future …”

[He looks up from the letter.]

My mistress is a queer duck. She is made Marpesia’s Hallowing but says that she will be queen. But how can she be queen if the queen still lives? She is too full of the milk of human kindness to strike out violently. She wants to be powerful, Lykopis certainly doesn’t lack in ambition, but she doesn’t have the sadistic streak that these things call for. The things that she does are because she thinks that is what makes a warrior, yet she still wants what doesn’t belong to her. For all the years that I’ve known her, my mistress has been afraid to do what necessity demands. So be it. Hurry home, Lykopis, so that I can coax. After all, the Furies and the gods both want you to be queen.

[A SERVANT enters.]

SERVANT:
The queen is coming here tonight.

SHASHGAZ:
Quit your jibber-jabber! Isn’t our lady with the queen? She would have told me in person if such a thing was happening so that I could prepare this eyesore called a castle.

SERVANT:
I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Lady Lykopis is coming. She sent a messenger ahead who arrived so out of breath that he could barely speak.

SHASHGAZ [half to himself]:
So … yes, go and take good care of the boy. He brings curious news.

[The SERVANT exits.]

SHASHGAZ:
Benevolent Zeus! The Amazons’ wretched goddesses must not think very highly of Marpesia to allow her to spend the night under my roof. Hear me, you murderous spirits, fill me from head to toe with deadly brutality! Thicken my blood and clog up my veins so I won’t feel remorse, so that no human compassion can stop my plan or prevent me from accomplishing it. Come, impenetrable night, cover the world in the darkest hell-smoke so that my knife can’t see the wound it opens, and so that the gods can’t spy through the darkness and cry, “No! Stop!”

[LYKOPIS enters.]

SHASHGAZ:
Marpesia’s Hallowing! By the prophecy you told me I too can see your glorious future. Seizing it is only a matter of time.

LYKOPIS:
My love, our queen is coming here tonight.

SHASHGAZ:
Indeed. Tell me, when is she leaving?

LYKOPIS:
Tomorrow, or so I’ve been told.

SHASHGAZ:
Then tomorrow will never come. Your face betrays strange feelings, my lady, and people will be able to read it like a book. In order to deceive them, greet the queen with a welcoming expression in your eyes, your hands, and your words. You should look like an innocent flower, but be like the viper that hides underneath the flower. The queen is coming, and she must be taken care of. Let me handle tonight’s preparations. What happens tonight shall make you the greatest Amazon the world has ever known.

LYKOPIS:
We must talk about this.

SHASHGAZ:
When you see her you must look innocent because if you look guilty then you will arouse suspicion. Leave all the rest to me.

[They exit.]

][][

[Setting: A different part of the castle. The stage is half in shadows, with the glow and noise of a celebration off-stage being the only lighting. SLAVES appear, carrying dishes of food into the large banquet hall. LYKOPIS, fleeing the festivities, enters the empty stage, standing half in shadow as she speaks.]

LYKOPIS [to herself]:
Marpesia has been here all day, so why does my heart still tremble? If murder could be forgotten the moment after committing it then it would be best to get it over with quickly. If the murder of the queen swept up everything, preventing any consequences, then murder would be the be-all and end-all. For that I would gladly put my soul at risk. But for crimes like these there are still punishments in this mortal world. The queen trusts me. I am her war-sister and her subject, and I am her host. But how will history see me? Marpesia has been such a humble leader, so free of corruption that her virtuous legacy will speak for itself when she dies, as if angels were calling out the injustice of her murder already. Pity, like a horrible newborn monster, will ride the wind to spread news of the bloody deed to everyone. My sisters will shed a flood of tears that will drown the wind. I can’t urge myself to action. The only thing motivating me is ambition, which makes fools rush ahead into disaster.

[SHASHGAZ enters.]

LYKOPIS:
What news do you have?

SHASHGAZ:
Our queen has almost finished her last meal. Why did you leave the dining room?

LYKOPIS:
Has she asked for me?

SHASHGAZ:
Don’t you know that she has?

LYKOPIS [flustered]:
We can’t go on with this plan. The queen has just honored me. I want to enjoy these honors while the they’re fresh and not throw them away too soon.

SHASHGAZ:
My lady, where I come from being called “womanly” is an insult; and yet when I am here I find that you have somehow tuned it into a word of honor. So tell me, were you drunk when you seemed so eager just moments before? Have you spent too much time with the Greeks and woken up green and pale with fear as their women do? From now on this is what I’ll think of you: afraid to act the way you desire. Will you take the crown you want so badly, or will you live as a coward, always saying “I can’t”? You are womanly, my lady, just make sure that the word isn’t spoken as a curse.

LYKOPIS:
Please, stop! I dare to do only what is proper for a warrior to do.

SHASHGAZ:
“Proper?” If you aren’t a warrior, then what kind of beast were you when you first told me you wanted to do this? When you dared to do it, that’s when you were a warrior. The time and place are good, but it seems that they’re almost too good for you.

LYKOPIS:
But if we fail?

SHASHGAZ:
The greatest Amazon in history shall not fail. When Marpesia is asleep I’ll get her two bodyguards so drunk that their memory will go up in smoke through the chimney of their brain. When they lie asleep like pigs, dead to the world, what won’t you and I be able to do to the imprudent Marpesia? All that the heart craves.

LYKOPIS:
Once we have covered the two servants with besotted blood and used their daggers to kill, won’t my sisters believe that they were the criminals?

SHASHGAZ:
Who could think it happened any other way? We’ll be grieving loudly when we hear that our queen has been assassinated under our own roof.

LYKOPIS:
I’m decided. I will use every muscle in my body to commit this crime. Go now, be the slave that Marpesia thinks you are and I shall be the friendly hostess. I will hide with a false face all that I know sleeps in my false, false heart.

[They exit.]

][][

[Setting: Another part of the castle. PENTHESILEA enters with her daughter, PHOEBE, who lights the way with a lantern.]

PENTHESILEA:
How’s the night going, my girl?

PHOEBE:
The moon has set. The guard hasn’t called the hour yet.

PENTHESILEA:
The moon set at midnight, right?

PHOEBE:
I think it’s later than that, mother.

PENTHESILEA:
Here, take my sword. Selene is being stingy with her light. I’m tired and feeling heavy, but I can’t sleep. Merciful Gaia, keep away the nightmares that plague me when I rest!

[LYKOPIS enters with a SERVANT, who carries a lantern of her own.]

PENTHESILEA [to her daughter]:
Give me back my sword. [Calling.] Who’s there?

LYKOPIS:
A loved comrade.

PENTHESILEA [relaxing]:
You’re not asleep yet, my dear lady? The queen’s in bed. I would be too, if I could sleep.

LYKOPIS:
Forgive me. We were unprepared for the queen’s visit, as you know; we weren’t able to distract her as well as we would have wanted to.

PENTHESILEA [laughing]:
Everything’s fine. I had a dream last night about the three Furies. At least part of what they said about you was true.

LYKOPIS:
I don’t think about them now. But when we have an hour to spare we can talk more about it … if you’re willing.

PENTHESILEA:
Whenever you’d like, my love.

LYKOPIS:
Rest easy in the meantime.

PENTHESILEA:
Thank you, Lykopis. You do the same.

[PENTHESILEA and PHOEBE exit.]

LYKOPIS [to the SERVANT]:
Go and tell Shashgaz to ring the bell when my drink is ready; then get yourself to bed.

[The SERVANT exits.]

LYKOPIS [dazed, to herself]:
Is this a dagger I see before me? Its pommel points toward my hand. [To the dagger.] Come, let me hold you. [She grabs at the air in front of her without touching anything.] I can’t hold you but I can still see you. Fateful apparition, isn’t it possible to touch you as well as see you? Or are you nothing more than an illusionary dagger, a phantasm from my fevered brain? You look as real as this one. [She draws out a second dagger.] My eyesight, like my nerves, must be failing. I can still see you, dagger; I see blood splotches now, all over your blade and handle, that weren’t there a moment before. [Blinks in confusion.] Ai! There’s no dagger now. It’s the murder that I’m about to commit that’s making me think I see one. Let half the world sleep and be deceived by nightmares. Furies are offering sacrifices to their goddess, Nix. The hard ground does not listen to the direction of my steps, but while I stand here Marpesia still lives. Too much thinking cools the mind and dulls the blade.

[A bell rings off-stage.]

LYKOPIS [as if waking from a dream]:
So be it. The bell commands me. Don’t listen to the tolling, Marpesia, for it is the voice of Charon, ready to lead you down to hell.

[LYKOPIS exits.]

][][

[SHASHGAZ enters.]

SHASHGAZ:
The drunken slaves and their red wine have made me bold. The same liquor that knocked them down has fired me up. Listen! Quiet! That was a shriek owl hooting farewell like the bells they ring right before an execution. Lykopis must be killing the queen. The doors to Marpesia’s chamber are open. Her slaves make a mockery of their jobs instead of protecting her. I drugged their cups, leaving them floating somewhere between the living world and the shadow realm of death.

LYKOPIS [from offstage]:
Who’s there? What is it?

SHASHGAZ:
By Zeus, I’m afraid the servants woke up, and the murder didn’t happen. For us to attempt murder and not succeed would ruin us. [He hears a noise.] Listen to that! I put the servant’s daggers where Lykopis would find them. She couldn’t have missed finding them. If Marpesia hadn’t reminded me of my own dead mother when I saw her sleeping, I would have killed her myself.

[LYKOPIS enters carrying two bloody daggers.]

LYKOPIS [shocked]:
I have done the deed. Did you hear a noise?

SHASHGAZ:
I’ve heard the crickets crying all night and an owl scream.

LYKOPIS:
An owl? When?

SHASHGAZ:
Just now.

LYKOPIS:
As I entered?

SHASHGAZ:
Yes.

LYKOPIS:
What’s that noise? Who’s sleeping in the second chamber?

SHASHGAZ:
Orithia.

LYKOPIS [looking at her bloody hands]:
This is a sorry sight.

SHASHGAZ:
That’s an ill-advised thing to say.

LYKOPIS:
One of the guards laughed in her sleep, and one cried, “Murder!” and they woke each other up. I stood and listened to them, but then they said their prayers to Athena and went back to sleep.

SHASHGAZ:
Sisters Malapadia and Orithia are asleep in the same room.

LYKOPIS:
One guard cried, “Great Hera save us!” and the other replied, “Murderer!” as if they had seen my hands stained red with blood.

SHASHGAZ:
Don’t think about it too much.

LYKOPIS:
But why did they call upon Hera if they did not know the horror I had just committed?

SHASHGAZ:
We can’t think about it. If we do, it’ll drive us crazy.

LYKOPIS:
I thought I heard a voice cry, “Sleep is dead! Lykopis has murdered sleep.” Innocent sleep. Sleep that soothes away all our worries. Sleep that puts each day to rest and heals hurt minds. Sleep, the feast and the desert; the most nourishing balm.

SHASHGAZ:
What are you jabbing about?

LYKOPIS:
The voice kept crying, “Sleep is dead … Lykopis will sleep no more.”

SHASHGAZ:
Who said that? Why, my fearful warrior, you let yourself think about things in a cowardly manner. Go get some water and wash this blood from your hands. Wait. Why did you carry these daggers out of the room? They have to be found there. Go take them back and smear the sleeping guards with the blood.

LYKOPIS:
I … I can’t go back. I’m afraid even to think about what I’ve done.

SHASHGAZ [grabbing the daggers]:
Cowardly woman! The dead and sleeping can’t hurt you anymore than shadows on the wall can. Only children are afraid of shadows. If Marpesia bleeds I’ll soak her slaves’ faces with their queen’s blood. We must make it seem like they’re the guilty ones. [He exits.]

[A sound of knocking from offstage.]

LYKOPIS:
Where is that knocking coming from? What’s happened to me? I’m frightened of every noise. [Looking at her hands.] Whose hands are these? [Laughs.] They’ll pluck out my own eyes. Will all the water in the ocean wash this blood from my hands? No, instead my hands will stain the seas red, turning the deep green into a scarlet tide.

[SHASHGAZ enters.]

SHASHGAZ [holds up his palms]:
My hands are as red as yours now, but I would be ashamed if my heart were half so pale and weak.

[The knocking is repeated from offstage.]

SHASHGAZ:
I hear someone knocking at the south gate. Let’s go back to our bedroom. A little water will wash away the evidence of our guilt. It’s so simple and yet you’ve lost your resolve.

LYKOPIS [dazed]:
“My resolve”?

[Knocking.]

SHASHGAZ:
Listen! There’s more knocking. Put on your nightgown, cover your breasts. Snap out of your stupor.

LYKOPIS [dully]:
I’d rather be in a stupor than think about what I have just done.

[Knocking.]

LYKOPIS:
Terrible Lady Nix, wake poor Marpesia with your knocking, only you can now!

[They exit.]

she-wolf: a new retelling of macbeth [act i]

03 Tuesday Jun 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in drama

≈ Comments Off on she-wolf: a new retelling of macbeth [act i]

Tags

Amazon queen, Amazon warrior, amazonomachy, drama, Fall of Troy, Macbeth, remix, She-Wolf

La sangre de mi matriz cubriendo la carretera está;
las patas de mi hija echan fuego de alquitrán …

The blood of my womb is covering the road;
the legs of my daughter throw black fire …
— “Marbella’s Song,” from Quevedo’s Dream of the Skull [17th century, Spain.]

][][

ACT I

[Time: Three years after the fall of Troy where the great Amazonian queen, Penthesilea, fell while defending the city, along with many of her warrior-sisters. As a result the Amazon tribes, scattered up and down the Black Sea coast, are now in disarray, confused, fighting among themselves for power.]

[Setting: Crickets chirping on a muggy evening. Roll of distant thunder. Sound of heavy bodies moving through a cane field. Pause. Suddenly the ERINYES, the Greek Furies, enter. They are monstrous, female chthonic deities of vengeance. Homer called them, “those beneath the earth who punish all blood oath breakers.” They are ALECTO (“the unnamable one”), MEGAERA (“grudging dislike”), and TISIPHONE (“vengeful destruction”), the stuff of nightmares.]

ALECTO:
When should we meet next? In the bloody rain or at the height of the thunder and lightning?

MEGAERA :
When the din of the war has fallen silent or when the battle has been won? I care not.

TISIPHONE:
Then it’ll happen when the sun sets upon this blood-dim tide …

ALECTO:
… and the stars speak through the infernal machine. So! Name the place.

MEGAERA:
In an open field? In the shadow of a hanged-man strung up at the crossroads? In the ashes of Troy? I care not.

TISIPHONE:
Wherever we go we shall meet the She-Wolf, Lady Lykopis.

ALL:
So it begins. Fair is foul, and foul is fair. We shall meet again in mist and war-torn air.

[They exit.]

][][

[An all-female battle camp, as depicted in the Greek Amazonomachies. Chaos of war raging nearby. QUEEN MARPESIA, in full armor, enters with her daughters, MALAPADIA and ORITHIA, as well as her personal body-guard, HIPPOTHOE, and a number of commanders. They meet a wounded and bloody comrade, ANDRODAMEIA, dragging herself off the battlefield.]

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Who is this bloodstained ghost? Quick, fetch my surgeon. We must save her; perhaps she can tell us about the rebellion.

MALAPADIA [stepping forward]:
This is the chieftess who fought to keep me from being captured, mother. Androdameia, my brave sister! Tell us news.

ANDRODAMEIA [half-blind, gasping and gory]:
My queen, sisters, for a while I couldn’t tell who would win. Like two weary swimmers, the armies clung to each other … like bodies dragging each other down through the dark depths. The depraved rebel, Antimachos, who sided with Achilles at Troy, was supported by soldiers from Attica, and it seemed that the fickle Fates were with her … but not for long. The Greeks and Antimachos together weren’t strong enough. Lykopis, who deserves the title of She-Wolf, laughed at the fates, the rebels and the Greeks. She slaughtered her way to deceitful Antimachos, who stood shocked and mute before her. Then our brave sister split the traitor from jawbone to belly and left her corpse on the battlefield, to be picked over by carrion crows.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
My dreadful war-sister! My praiseworthy chieftess!

ANDRODAMEIA:
Nevertheless, my queen, in the same way that violent storms often appear out of nowhere so can the tide of war turn. As soon as we left those Attican soldiers in heaps on the field the Spartan king saw his chance to attack us with reinforcements.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
No! What befell our terrible sisters, Lykopis and Penthesilea?

ANDRODAMEIA:
Those that we call mere warriors bathed in our enemies’ blood. They put the ten-year war at Troy to shame. Lykopis and Penthesilea fought the new enemy with even more violence as before …

[Before she can finish, though, ANDRODAMEIA crumples from blood loss.]

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Sister! Take her to the surgeons.

[ANDRODAMEIA exits, helped by attendants.]

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Her words, like her wounds, bring us all honor.

[TECMESSA and THRASO enter.]

MALAPADIA:
Mother, your most loyal warrior, Lady Tecmessa, approaches.

HIPPOTHOE:
Odd, she looks like she brings you a strange tale to tell.

TECMESSA:
Great Hera blesses us all!

QUEEN MARPESIA:
What news do you have, sister?

TECMESSA:
First queen, I’ve come from where the Spartan flags once flew over our land. Our soldiers were exhausted, in disarray, and fell into confusion the moment this new threat took the field. But, still wearing her war-battered armor, brave Lykopis met the Spartans as if she were the goddess of war’s only lover. She broke the enemy’s charge and now we have just return, triumphant.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Great joy! Great joy, indeed.

TECMESSA:
So now, false Leonidas, the Spartan king, wants a truce. We told him that we wouldn’t even let him bury his dead until he went to the temple of Athena and swore on his worthless testicles that his people would never raise their cowardly hands against us, for now and forever.

QUEEN MARPESIA:
Sic semper tyrannis. The cravens of Sparta will never again wage war against us.

[They all exit.]

][][

[Thunder over a wretched moorland. The three ERINYES enter.]

ALL:
Captured goddess, her sword blades and poppy
seeds. I was down in the market. I’ve seen

how dire amethyst shivers; red, bloody
cinnamon flickers. The heart of a queen

can be broken. It was her wings. Rainbow
feathers. Hera’s terrible tongue, wrapping

around the girl’s clit. Caught in afterglow
and a blood-soaked bed; they caught her, coming

the way the gods come. Down in the market
I found her. Shorn of her wings; tied in chain

while men bargained for her. Let gold-silver
damn you when you call a goddess a slut;

when you kill a queen. Who will explain
why the She-Wolf is now a Queen killer?

][][

[LYKOPIS and PENTHESILEA enter. Both are wounded, blood-stained and exhausted to the point of hallucination.]

LYKOPIS [with a grievous cut across her scalp, causing blood to run into her eyes]:
I have never seen a day that was so fair and foul.

PENTHESILEA [with the broken shaft of an arrow sticking out of her shoulder]:
It hurts. Three handkerchiefs are inside me. This makes the fourth. [She sees the ERINYES] Great Gaia! What are these wild, alien monstrosities? They look like the nightmares that the gods have when they dream. [To the ERINYES] Are you living creatures or phantoms? Speak, can you understand me?

LYKOPIS:
Speak, if you have tongues. I would call you sisters but I’ve never seen anything as weird or wild as how you present yourself.

ALECTO:
We honor you, Lady Lykopis! We honor Spartan’s Bane!

MEGAERA:
We honor you, Lady Lykopis! We honor Marpesia’s Hallowing!

TISIPHONE:
We honor you, Lady Lykopis! Forthcoming queen!

PENTHESILEA [to LYKOPIS]:
My sister, why do you look so startled and afraid? You have already blessed our Queen Marpesia with such victories as will be sung for a thousand years to come. [To the ERINYES] If you are from the gods, if blood-hungry Athena sent you to watch us win honor on the battlefield, then you greet my war-sister with honors and talk of a future so glorious that you’ve made her blush like a maiden before her first battle; but you don’t say anything to me. I don’t beg for favors and I’m not afraid of death; tell me of what will happen.

ALECTO:
Creature of clay, we honor you!

MEGAERA:
Phoebe’s mare and fortune, we honor you!

TISIPHONE:
Lady Penthesilea, we also honor you!

ALECTO:
You will be lesser than Lady Lykopis but your future will also be greater.

MEGAERA:
You will not be as happy as Lady Lykopis but your future will be much happier.

TISIPHONE:
Your daughters will be queens, even though you will not be one.

ALL:
We honor you, Lady Lykopis and Lady Penthesilea!

[The three ERINYES rise up as if to depart.]

LYKOPIS:
Wait! You only told me part of what I want to know. Stay and tell me more. I already know that I defeated the Spartan king Leonidas. But why do you call me “Marpesia’s Hallowing”? For me to be the queen is impossible, it is treason, for there already is a queen that I love and that I have sworn a blood oath to … to protect. Why would you speak words that you know are sacrilegious? Why do you stop us at this forsaken waste with prophetic words that can only sew discontent? Speak, witches, I command you.

[The ERINYES vanish.]

PENTHESILEA:
The tar pits at high noon have bubbles that break the surface from deep below and burst, leaving nothing behind. These phantoms must be like those bubbles, I thought them real until they revealed that they were nothing more than trickery and sulfur.

LYKOPIS [dazed]:
“Trickery and sulfur.” They melted into the air. I wish that they had stayed …

PENTHESILEA [groaning as the arrow in her shoulder suddenly reaffirms itself]:
Ahh! Sister, look at us. We’ve been through too much and lost too much blood this day to say that what we just witnessed came from a calm mind.

LYKOPIS [still in a dream]:
But … your daughters will be queens.

PENTHESILEA:
No, sister, you will be the queen.

LYKOPIS:
And “Marpesia’s Hallowing,” too. Isn’t that what they said?

PENTHESILEA [falling to the ground, faint]:
I … think. Who’s this?

[TECMESSA and THRASO enter.]

TECMESSA:
My sisters, we have found you! Our queen was exultant to hear of your triumphs and conquests, Lady Lykopis. She was shaken to hear that on the same day that you fought the traitor Antimachos you also fought against the army of Leonidas, and that you beat those Greek bastards, slaughtering everyone around you.

THRASO:
Ladies, our queen sent us to find you, to give you her thanks and to bring you both back to her.

TECMESSA:
Lady Lykopis, since you saved your sisters and all our tribes, chief of our chieftesses, you shall be known from now on as “Marpesia’s Hallowing.”

PENTHESILEA [shocked]:
Pox and Pluto! Are you telling lies?

THRASO [startled]:
Lady! I … don’t understand …

LYKOPIS:
Please, forgive us. We are fresh off the battlefield and have been dribbling our vitals in every footprint we’ve left behind. The heat, the blood loss, the killing … it has made us a bit mad. Take us to our queen, Lykopis salutes you.

[The four begin to walk off stage. As soon as they are without ear shot, PENTHESILEA grabs LYKOPIS and whispers in her ear.]

PENTHESILEA:
Sister! Hold, I beg you. Those furies told us nothing short of treason. “Marpesia’s Hallowing” has many meanings, for good and evil. We must forget what we’ve been told.

LYKOPIS [dazed]:
But it’s just like they said … and the best part is still to come. Aren’t you hoping that your daughters will be queens one day?

PENTHESILEA:
But this whole thing is queer! Evil is tempting but it can only lead us to our destruction. [Turning to TECMESSA and THRASO] Sisters of Hippolyte’s Sash, a word with you, if you may.

[TECMESSA, THRASO and PENTHESILEA move off to one side.]

LYKOPIS [to herself]:
So far Great Athena’s bloodhounds have told me two things that came true, so it seems that I might one day become queen. This temptation doesn’t appear to be an evil thing, but can it be good? If it’s evil then why was I given the name of the queen’s protector? That is a title not used in these last two hundred years … but if it is a good then why was I told that I would be queen? There is but one queen, my darling Marpesia; and for a new queen rise only means that the old one is dead … Great Hera, that is a thought so horrifying that it freezes my cunt and makes my heart pound inside my breast!

PENTHESILEA:
Look at our sister, our dear Lykopis … she’s in a daze.

LYKOPIS [still to herself]:
But often the Fates throws chance to the ones who least expect it. Perhaps all I must do is stay dumb and mute and victory shall simply fall in my lap? Was that not how Hercules beat all nine of my sisters? Was that not how Troy fell? I care not, just give me a sign.

PENTHESILEA:
Our sister is not use to meaningless titles. She is a warrior first; gathering up fallen Spartan heads is the best glory that she can find. Pomp and circumstance like “Marpesia’s Hallowing” only confuses things. For some of us titles are like the wild bulls in the pasture; they are arrogant until you break them.

LYKOPIS [still to herself]:
Hera, give me strength! I cannot see the future. One way or another what’s going to happen will happen.

PENTHESILEA [coming over and embracing LYKOPIS]:
Sister, we’re ready when you are.

LYKOPIS [as if waking from a dream]:
O! Forgive me. I have been dazed after shedding so much blood today. It was terrible and I’ve been distracted. Kind sisters, I won’t forget the trouble that you’ve taken for me every time that I think of this day. Let’s go to the queen. [Turning to speak in PENTHESILEA’S ear] Think about what happened today, I beg of you, and when we’ve both had time to consider these divinations, pray, come to me.

PENTHESILEA:
Of course, my love.

[They all exit.]

sex mad roar

01 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in drama, Illustration and art

≈ Comments Off on sex mad roar

Tags

art, Blitzkrieg Bop, drama, London Blitz, Sex Mad Roar, She Bop, The Clash, WWII, xenomorph

blitzkrieg she bop

Blitzkrieg She-Bop & Love among the Ruins

The city will fizzle in the night, so vacant
I’m tryin’ to hear you talk …
I’m dyin’ to see you walking around me
the soundtrack to the city is exposed …

— The Clash, Sex Mad Roar (1985)

[The action takes place on a sweltering night in an attic on the High Street, Bethnal Green, at the height of the Luftwaffe Night Terror, in late April 1941. The room functions as a bedroom, with its ceiling sloping down at the back to within a few feet of the floor. There is a dormer window in a recess at back, its glass blacked out. A door stands at right center, bed left of window, bureau down right. The room is in terrible disorder and chaos, with something not of human design hiding in the shadows. The walls are covered in a strange encrusted material, vaguely resembling the chambered nest of a mud wasp, but on a much grander scale]

[LYSSK is discovered hanging upside down among the alien-encrustations as the curtain rises, snoring gently. She is a Xenomorph, powerfully built, one hundred and twenty-four years old]

[TSU XI TSU enters, lighting a candle on the bureau. She is a melancholy-looking woman of thirty-seven. She speaks with a Chinese-Yorkshrie accent; marking the two sides of her heritage]

LYSSK [Still upside down, yawning groggily]:
Tsu Xi Tsu, is that you?

TSU XI TSU:
Ah dint mean ta wake theur up. Nip on back ta sleep.

LYSSK:
I haven’t been asleep. What time is it?

TSU XI TSU [Takes off jacket]:
Abaht fowa o’clock.

LYSSK:
You’re late.

TSU XI TSU [Takes off shirt, scratching under her bra]:
Ah ‘ed ta walk fra uptown.

LYSSK:
How far uptown?

TSU XI TSU [Sighs]:
Way up tarn. ah let um sailors shake uz li’ eur dingy. [She sits in chair at foot of bed and fans herself] Ah dint av sense enuff ta gerr cab fare. Phaw! Theur dooant realize ‘a mafted theur are while theur sit daahn.

LYSSK:
Poor darling.

TSU XI TSU:
It’s onny April bur theur mun av ‘ed t’ gas lit ta mek it as mafted as dis i’ ‘eear. Ah’m sa glad ta gerr ‘ooam.

LYSSK [Drops to the floor, standing near her; a towering presence]:
You didn’t bring anything?

TSU XI TSU:
Not eur red cent, Lyssk. [Gets up and goes to bureau] Ah doun’t kna li’ what’s t’ matta wi’ uz. [Looks in the mirror] It’s ‘a’ darn ‘erpes sooar. If ah ‘ed onny ‘ed sense enuff ta gerr um camphor afowa ah went art.

LYSSK:
But isn’t it healing nicely? I can’t notice it any more.

TSU XI TSU:
O’ course it’s perfectly well. Theear won’t be eur trace o’ it tomorra. Ah shouldn’t ta av tried ta nip on art those twoa days t’ fust o’ t’ week when it wor sa bad. Everybody wor afraid o’ uz ‘n it made uz feel li’ eur lepa. Ah lost uz grip i’ um way ‘n naw ah can’t gerr it back. It orl depends on yursen. [Picks up the candle] If thas sure o’ yursen theur av luck; if theur aren’t, theur dooant. That’s orl ther’s ta it. [Crosses with the candle, which she puts down on the headboard of the bed] If i’d ‘ed eur lahl bit o’ t’ met t’neet i’d av getten um brass arta’ crowd. [Sits at the foot of the bed] Bur cocaine doesn’t brace uz up anymooar.

LYSSK:
Yes, I know.

TSU XI TSU:
Poor owd lass. Av theur bin liggin’ ‘eear orl neet i’ dis ‘ea’ waitin for uz? It’s ‘ard jouce on theur, Lyssk. Ah thowt i’d nip on sixes ‘n sevens t’neet! Uz nerves are just orl ta pieces. Ah did think ah wor goan gerr um brass dis tahhm.

LYSSK [Moves over to a mattress on the floor, half of which is covered in LYSSK’S encrustation-secretion]:
Why don’t you take your clothes off and come to bed?

TSU XI TSU [Gets up and takes a small bag out of her jacket]:
Ah caught dis for theur, onnyrooad. ‘Eear. [As she throws the bag it makes a rat-like squeal. There is clearly something alive inside]

LYSSK [Catching it, hissing happily to herself; a shrill noise, laughter made from fingernails running down a blackboard]:
Yum! Ta!

TSU XI TSU:
Lyssk, ah wish theur wouldn’t ‘iss li’ ‘a’, it’s inhuman. [Goes over to the bureau] Ah suppose theur can’t ‘elp it, bur it gives uz t’ creeps. [She begins to undress]

LYSSK [Wanders over to a dark corner of the room to eat in privacy]:
All right, darling. [Sounds of sloppy munching. Finally the Xenomorph drops the bloody bag on the floor and turns around, wiping her mouth] Do you want the last of the black meat?

TSU XI TSU [Undressing]:
Neya, it doesn’t matta. Ah’m just nervous ‘n irritable. Dooant pay enny attention ta owt assez. If ah dooant gerr um brass tomorra ah just doun’t kna li’ wha’ ahl doa. It’s terrible ta be sa dependent on owt as ‘a’.

LYSSK [Lies down on the mattress and stretches out one leg, inspecting her claws]:
Four days.

TSU XI TSU:
Neya, tonight’s ‘Aturday.

LYSSK:
That’s four days, isn’t it? We finished up that last package Tuesday night. I remember because it was the last time that they dropped bombs on Bethnal Green.

[As if on cue distant air raid sirens start up. They wail in the distance for a long moment while the two listen if they can hear the noise of approaching enemy bombers. Nothing. Unless noted the sirens continue throughout the rest of the play, faint background noise, like radio static or distant traffic, all that makes up an aural landscape of the city]

TSU XI TSU [Shaking her head as if from a dream, walks naked over to the bed, looking down at her lover]:
That’s reet. Ah wouldn’t av believed ah could nip on sa long. Ah dooant see ‘a theur stan’ it, Lyssk, orl neet li’ dis, doin nowt.

LYSSK:
It’s not like I can just go wandering down High Street any time I choose. Don’t worry about me. I can go for a while without the black meat … at least I think so.

TSU XI TSU [Attempts to pull a kimono off the chair, but finds it glued to the surface by LYSSK’S pear-translucent secretions]:
Ah cunt. [Gives up on the kimono and sits down in the chair, taking a cigarette from a package on the floor] Bur then i’ve bin usin it sa much longa than theur av. [Lights cigarette off the candle]

LYSSK [Curling into a fetal ball, stretching out one arm, inviting her lover to join her]:
I had been using it for some time, too, you know; a month or so after we met last summer.

TSU XI TSU:
Ta think. [Clambers into bed, careful not to spill ash, curls between LYSSK’S limbs as if the war-like Xenomorph was nothing more than a giant pillow] Onny eur year usin t’ flesh o’ t’ ‘iant black ‘entipede. Ah wonda wha’ ‘ood av become o’ theur if ah ‘adn’t fahn’ theur?

LYSSK [Running long talons through TSU XI TSU’S hair like a comb]:
What becomes of any queen who gets kicked out of her hive and has nowhere to go? I don’t like thinking about it.

TSU XI TSU:
That’s t’ trouble wi’ theur bugs. Theur are browt up wi’ onny ‘un idea — toa lay eggs ‘n fight — an’ if owt does ap’n ta thee then thas not able ta doa owt else. Thas onny ‘un ‘undred ‘n twenty-four, ‘n thas done.

LYSSK:
I’ll be one hundred and twenty-four in October, I think.

TSU XI TSU:
Lut, you’re fowa times ahda than uz ‘n it still mecs uz feel sa ancient. That’s ‘a theur stan’ t’ streeam t’ way theur doa. Theur are as firm ‘n strong as theur ivva wor, bur skeg a’ uz!

LYSSK:
I would if I could. But I can smell you, taste you and feel your molecules shift ever so slightly each time we make love. I know every micron of you, every fiber.

TSU XI TSU [Stubs out her cigarette and tosses the butt across the room]:
Ah feel sa owd, ‘n jiggered, ‘n discouraged, Lyssk. If ah dint av theur ah dooant think i’d gue on wi’ it.

LYSSK [Tightens her arm about her]:
I will always be with you. You know that, don’t you? Always.

TSU XI TSU:
Ah nivva thowt o’ thy leavin uz. [She puts her free arm up about her lover’s queer, oblong head and strokes the blank part of her skull where her eyes would be had she been human] Ah love theur sa much, Lyssk. Ah love theur mooar than anybody else will ivva love theur if theur li’ ta be eur thousan’ years owd.

LYSSK [Starts her horrible shrill laugh a second time; then quickly remembers how much TSU XI TSU hates it]:
Oh, um, sorry.

TSU XI TSU:
Ahl allus love theur. Bur thas li’ eur babby. Can’t nip on ahtside. Can’t feed yursen. Can’t even fettle sa we can buy wee mooar black met. [She snuggles up to her and presses her cheek to her. The two listen to the endless air raid sirens for a long moment, possibly in the distance is the throb and thrum of German bombers crossing the Channel, but it is impossible to be certain] Lyssk?

LYSSK: Yes?

TSU XI TSU [In a whisper]:
Uz darlin. [She gathers her courage. Long pause]

LYSSK:
Tired, lover?

TSU XI TSU:
Neya, not naw. Ah gerr strength fra theur. Thars getten plenty o’ strength for both o’ wee, ant theur? eh?

LYSSK:
It’s queer that someone like you would want to shack up with a monster like me.

TSU XI TSU:
Aye, you’ve sez ‘a’ afowa ‘n ah keep sayin’ —

BOTH:
“You’re neya monsta.”

LYSSK:
I know, but before I found you I was so alone.

TSU XI TSU:
Theur wor driftin thru orl ‘a’. [Waves hand at ceiling to indicate the rest of the universe] T’ cosmos, or whateva it is theur called it. Driftin, asleep, for thousands o’ years. O’ course theur wor a sen.

LYSSK:
And now I have you, darling. I may be nothing but a bio-mechanical killing machine, but none of that matters if I have your love.

TSU XI TSU:
Thee seh wee love won’t pay t’ rent. I’ve towd theur orl abaht missen. Ah did fettle ont’ Evenin ‘Un i’ Tangia, ‘n afowa ‘a’ ah used ta li’ on eur farm i’ Interzone. That’s orl ther’s.

LYSSK:
That’s fine. I don’t want you to tell me anything that you don’t want to. [Moves her position slightly] Are you all comfortable?

TSU XI TSU:
Aye, uz love. [Pause] Ah av summa’ ah need ta call ta thee abaht. Wi’ve eur problem.

LYSSK:
We have many problems, lover.

TSU XI TSU:
Ah kna we doa, ‘n yet ah can lie ‘eear li’ dis ‘n it doesn’t seem possible ‘a’ ther’s such eur thin as trouble int’ world. It is sa serene ta lie still, ‘n av theur strokin uz ‘air. Ah dooant want ivva ta move agin. Ah can feel thy ‘eart lampin. Does thee feel ‘a much fasta mine is gonneur than thy’n?

LYSSK [cupping one of TSU XI TSU’S breasts]:
Yes. Yes, I can.

[The sound of distant bombing is heard]

TSU XI TSU:
T’ bombs soun’ li’ eur spirit ‘a’ can’t rest. T’ spirit o’ t’ city gonneur made, ‘a’ goes on burnin ‘n burnin ‘n will nivva gi’o’a, neya matta wha’ becomes o’ theur ‘n uz. Bur when ah’m liggin’ close ta thee li’ dis, touchin theur, ther’s eur soarts o’ electric current ‘a’ radiates fra theur orl o’a ‘cos thas sa ali’. Wha’ wor ah goan seh? Wha’ wor ah callin abaht?

LYSSK:
The end of days? The beginning of love?

TSU XI TSU:
Aye. Ah wor goan seh while ah’m liggin’ close ta thee li’ dis it orl seems sa far away, doesn’t it? It is li’ liggin’ i’ bed ‘n listenin teur t’ clouds. Theear may be deyth ‘n storms ‘n fallin bombs art theear, bur they’re far away. They’re li’ t’ clouds. Thee can nivva touch wee.

LYSSK:
I wished we could get some raw, dripping black meat and forget out troubles for at least a night.

TSU XI TSU:
‘Oor beautiful Lyssk. [Sits up and moves to the side of the bed, finds a cigarette and lights it] Ah tell theur ‘a’ ah thowt ah ‘ood nip on sixes ‘n sevens tonight; ah ant gorreur nerve gallock i’ uz body. Ah woontad ta kna wha’ theur wor doin. Ah thowt orl sorts o’ dingy things. Ah could picture theur gerrin desperate ‘n nip on ea’ someone, somewheear, ‘n t’ police ‘ood ‘unt theur ‘n pur theur i’ eur zooa, or ‘appen doa experiments on theur, ah doun’t kna li’ wha’. Ah could av getten um stuff t’neet, a’ ‘a’.

LYSSK:
What do you mean? How? Who?

TSU XI TSU:
T’ landlut. ‘E wor waitin for uz ont’ stairs.

LYSSK:
Him? Does he still think you live alone? Why would he even mention it when he knows how broke we are? We owe him two weeks rent.

TSU XI TSU:
Neya, ‘e sez ‘e knew eur way sa ah could gerr um.

LYSSK:
What do you mean, darling?

TSU XI TSU:
Theur norrz.

LYSSK:
Do you mean to tell me that man has been soliciting for your favors again? [She hisses softly, her terrible segmented tail twitching violently] I knew something was the matter. Did you … what did you tell him?

TSU XI TSU:
Ah towd ‘im ta fuk off. Wha’ does thee think ah towd ‘im? Ah sez ah wor off t’ rubbish.

LYSSK [uncurls herself and places one of her giant hands on TSU XI TSU’S naked back]:
O, Tsu Xi Tsu. You feel so warm and I am suddenly so cold.

TSU XI TSU:
Well, ah dint want it sa bad, then.

LYSSK [desperate]:
If we had any other place that we could go, I would have got out of this house the night you told me he first came up here and bothered you. But how can we? We don’t have a pound to deposit on a new room. I suppose he knows all that.

TSU XI TSU:
Aye. [Looking around the room with a touch of humor] ‘N when t’ owd clart noggin finally sees wha’ theur did ta ‘is walls ah suspect we won’t gerr wee deposit back. That’s wha’ ah getten ta call ta thee abaht. ‘E’s goan kick wee art.

LYSSK:
“Kick us out”?

TSU XI TSU:
That’s wha’ ‘e sez. Unless–

LYSSK:
Unless what?

TSU XI TSU:
Well … theur norrz. We need eur place ta sleep. Eur place for theur ta ‘ide. Theur see —

LYSSK [Sitting up suddenly, tall and terrible in the shadows]:
What are you talking about?

TSU XI TSU:
Ah think t’ owd bloke will let wee stay if ‘e gets wha’ ‘e wants. ‘E cum up ‘eear ‘n made eur gurt fuss o’a uz ‘n sez ‘a’ ‘e wor mafted on uz ‘n orl ‘a’ rubbish, ‘n ah sin wor stayin a’ ‘is ‘ouse wiyaa’ eur ‘usban’ or eur guardian ‘n not payin rent ‘n it’s t’ war … ‘e sez ‘a’ if ah wor tooa gran’ for ‘im i’d av ta gerr art o’ ‘is ‘ouse, that’s orl. ‘A’ wor afta ‘e offered uz t’ black met.

LYSSK:
Tsu Xi; am I going mad or did you just suggest sleeping with our landlord in exchange for rent?

TSU XI TSU:
‘Appen, theur mean?

LYSSK:
Never let me hear that again. You don’t do that anymore.

TSU XI TSU:
Ah av uz job, don’t ah?

LYSSK:
You work as a hostess in a bar in Soho. That’s completely a different matter. Don’t ever let me hear yu suggest that again, do you understand? I would sooner crack his skull and eat his brains than let him touch you. [Now it’s LYSSK’S turn to angrily get up and cross over to the bureau] By the Lady of the Hive, it’s hot in here!

TSU XI TSU [Walks over behind LYSSK. The height difference is in stark comparison, the Xenomorph’s 7 feet to the human’s 5’3”. TSU XI TSU puts her arms around her lover as far as they can go]:
Darlin, wi’ve ta li’. Wi’ve ta doa summa’. Everee neet we meight dee if eur Kraut bomb falls on wee. Wi’ve neya brass ‘n ah don’t kna ‘a ta gerr enny. If we can’t gerr on … t’ way we bin gerrin on … then ah av ta doa summa’, theur understan’? [Reaches up and pulls LYSSK’S head down to her mouth. A long kiss] Ah don’t care wha’ ah av ta doa, bur ah’m not goan lose theur.

LYSSK:
You’re not going to lose me.

TSU XI TSU:
Oa? Theur gurt dummy. Wha’ does thee think will ap’n t’ moa anyone else i’ orl o’ London village sees theur? If thee don’t shoot theur they’ll pur theur i’ eur zooa ‘n doa experiments on theur. Theur towd uz it yursen. Owt for Churchill’s war effoarts. T’ onny way ah can protect theur is ta keep theur ‘idden ‘n ah can’t doa ‘a’ if we gerr kicked art ontoa t’ street.

LYSSK:
Of course we’ve got to do something. But you don’t understand what you are saying. If it were the last night we’d ever spend under a roof it wouldn’t change my decision.

TSU XI TSU [returning to the bed]:
Then, by Lut, it luks li’ it is t’ last neet, wi’ t’ jouce ah’m avin. [She sits and leans her chin on her right hand, gazing at the candle] If ah wor able ta doa enny kin’ o’ fettle it’d be different. Bur ah don’t kna ‘a ta doa owt else, ah guess. Ah couldn’t neya mooar stick ta enny kin’ o’ eur job than ah could drift thru space li’ theur did. Wea’ar up against it, that’s orl ‘n it’s fine ‘n noble ta call abaht uz ‘onor, whateva ‘a’ is, bur t’ day anyone finds theur, lova, it’s gem o’a.

LYSSK:
But Tsu Xi, love, you don’t understand. [Crosses to bed] Listen to me. [Cradles TSU XI TSU to her] You think that you know me, you think that because I told you how I escaped and got lost, how I drifted for almost a century, that you know me and that you love what you know. It isn’t your fault. But this is the way that I was made. I kill. That’s my primary goal in everything that I am supposed to do. But you changed that I don’t know how, but you did. I have so few ways to show you how much I love you because you are the clean part of me. You are the part that I live for. And you are sacred, do you understand? Holy.

TSU XI TSU [Still gazing at candle]:
Sure, ah understan’.

LYSSK:
Go on. Say that you love me. I love to hear you say it.

TSU XI TSU [resting her head against LYSSK’S massive breasts as if she were a baby]:
Ah love theur. ‘n ahl stick wi’ theur. Bur we getten ta li’, don’t we? We getten ta gerr um brass um way. ‘N if theur can’t gerr it, sa ah av ta. That’s if wea’ar goan stick togetha.

LYSSK:
No, you won’t have, Tsu Xi Tsu. I’d rather be dead. [Places her lover on the bed and stands] I’d rather go out into the street and let Nazi bombs kill me before I’ll see you do that. [Distant sound of bombs getting closer] That horrible old asshole. I think I’ll kill him. [Goes up into alcove and takes hold of the blacked out window as if she were about to open it and look outside. Thinks better of it and turns back toward the room]

TSU XI TSU [sympathetic]:
We getten ta, lova. Wea’ar up against it. Ah’m goan be jannock wi’ you; ‘a’ thin ‘a’ ah getten on uz gob isn’t goan gerr betta. If we gerr kicked art o’ ‘eear today, wha’ t’ ‘ell can we doa? sleep int’ park? Ah guess not. Not while ah gorreur way ta mek easy brass. Why, darlin, ah wish’t tha’d see t’ numba o’ ’em ‘a’ tries ta speyt ta uz everee tahhm ah nip on art. It’s easy, ah tell theur. ‘N ther’s gran’ brass i’ it. Ah dooant li’ ta call abaht it, bur we getten ta doa summa’. We can gerr eur gran’ roa somewheear ‘n keep eur lahl black met on ‘an’ orl t’ tahhm. Ah’m not goan leev theur bur ah need t’ rubbish, that’s orl. [Lies down on the bed and turns toward the wall] I’ve gone wiyaa’ it fowa days naw.

LYSSK: [comes down and sits as daintily next to her as she can]:
You are a strange woman. Can’t you see that you are the only thing I’ve left in this world and every other world we could ever visit?

TSU XI TSU:
Bur theur can’t tek uz away, can theur? You’re stuk ‘eear, li’ we’re stuk i’ London wi’ orl t’ world burnin afowa wee een.

LYSSK:
If I knew how to take you away, lover, I would. Now I just have to protect you.

TSU XI TSU:
Protect uz? Dooant theur understan’ ‘a’ ah saved theur when theur wor sa weyt theur couldn’t even move? ‘A’ theur belong ta uz? Ah saved theur fra dis reeight thin, ah suppose, eur year agoa. Dooant theur see, darlin’?

LYSSK:
There has to be a better way than this to live.

TSU XI TSU:
Neya.

LYSSK:
What do you mean by no?

TSU XI TSU:
Ah dooant see enny reason why we should li’.

LYSSK:
Why wouldn’t we want to live? What’s the point of being in love if you can’t live?

TSU XI TSU [Sits up and embraces her lover once more]:
Lyssk, uz darlin, listen ta uz. Thars bin eur wonderful lass, or relic, or whateva it is thy fowk call apiece otha, ‘n ah love theur as reeight few fowk av ivva bin loved i’ dis world. ‘Cos ah ‘ed lost everythin, theur see, when ah fahn’ theur, everythin. Ah ‘ed thrown everythin away. ‘N thars ‘ed ta be t’ whole world for uz sin. T’ whole world, theur see. Theear int owt else. When t’ black met getten uz ah just went daahn ‘cos ah dint care abaht owt. Ah gev up uz job ‘n just let missen slide. Ah intended ta kill missen when uz brass gev art, ‘n ah dint even care ‘a much ah ‘ed gallock. Then theur fell art o’ t’ sky ‘n orl ‘a’ changed.

LYSSK [Strokes TSU XI TSU’S hair]:
I remember.

TSU XI TSU:
Theur can’t rememba much. Ah can’t thoil ta think even naw ‘a theur wor bea’ up. Bur theur wor i’ sa much peeam theur didn’t even kna ‘a’ theur ‘ed crashed ta earth.

LYSSK:
That’s right. Free fall. There was that nightmare; I remember some horrible dream about smothering.

TSU XI TSU:
‘N sin then, Lyssk, wi’ve ‘ed eur wonderful tahhm. Does thee rememba when we used ta av ta sleep unda t’ temple? Ah love ‘a’ owd temple naw ‘cos it’s associated i’ uz min’ wi’ theur.

LYSSK:
It’s been the best year of my life.

TSU XI TSU:
“Ah mun nip on daahn teur t’ seas agin, teur t’ lonely seeur ‘n t’ sky, an’ orl ah ax is eur tall ship ‘n eur star ta stea ‘a by; an’ t’ wheel’s kick ‘n t’ wind’s song ‘n t’ whi’ sail’s shakin, an’ eur grey mist ont’ sea’s fyass, ‘n eur grey dawn breytin …”

LYSSK:
Er. What was that?

TSU XI TSU:
Seeur Feva, by ‘Ohn Masefield. Uz mutheur use ta read it ta uz when ah wor eur wee lass. I’ve bin listenin fert tide orl uz life, ‘n ah finally fahn’ it i’ theur. Wha’ does thee seh we nip on art wi’ it?

LYSSK:
What do you mean, “go out with the tide”?

TSU XI TSU:
Listen. [Sound of bombing getting very close]. Open t’ winda. Turn ont’ leet. Let’s gi’ t’ Krauts eur target.

LYSSK [Spins around, hissing in alarm]:
Tsu Xi Tsu! What are you saying? [Crouching down before her human lover, the Xenomorph looks as if she were peering into the other’s eyes.] No, not for me.

TSU XI TSU:
Lyssk, wi’ve ‘ed such eur wonderful tahhm. Wi’ve known everythin ther’s ta kna int’ world worth knowin. Wi’ve reached t’ top. Let’s let dis be t’ en’. ‘A can we survi’ togetha? Even if we don’t dee i’ an air raid, if t’ war is o’a wheear can we nip on? Whoa ‘ood let wee be togetha? Eur year is as long as eur lifetime if it is full o’ love.

LYSSK [Incredulously]:
Be serious.

TSU XI TSU [Gently]:
Ah nivva wor mooar serious i’ uz life. Ah can’t gue on wiyaa’ theur, ‘n ah won’t leev theur behin’ ta en’ up um experiment or slev. It’s theur ‘a’ ah love — the lahl strange spirit ‘a’ mecs theur lyssk, ‘n different ta everybody else ‘a’ ivva lived. T’ black met will kill ‘a’ i’ theur, i’ uz. If we’re goan destroy ‘a’ then let’s doa it soona than lata. Think! Dis may be t’ last neet we’ll ivva spen’ together — the last chance we’ll av. Turn ont’ lights. Open t’ winda. Neya tellin what’ll ap’n if we gerr ta see tomorra. Ah don’t ‘od on ta fyass it a sen.

LYSSK:
I am a warrior and a queen dethroned. If I don’t fall in battle then I don’t want to, darling.

TSU XI TSU:
Eur theur afraid ta dee?

LYSSK:
Afraid? No. It just goes against my need to survive.

TSU XI TSU:
Theur lost thy ‘i’. Theur lost thy fowk. Theur can’t feight. Theur can’t even nip on ahtside. Wha’ av theur getten ta li’ for?

LYSSK:
I’ve got you.

TSU XI TSU:
‘Abe, thars slipped. Thars slipped away furtha than ah thowt. Ah meight be gonneur parky turkey o’a t’ black met, bur thars slipped furtha than ah av.

LYSSK:
I’m not that bad off.

TSU XI TSU [panic-stricken, the sound of falling bombs very close now]:
Thas chuffin’ bad off, Lyssk. Dooant theur see ‘a’ thy life is finished? Warrior? ‘Ueen? Theur are nowt. Theur are less than nowt. Wha’ theur chuffin’ are is t’ onny alien thin on dis earth, ‘n ‘eear theur call calmly abaht … um vague ideeur abaht ‘onor. “Dee i’ battle”? Ther’s neya reason for theur ta gue on livin … except thy fear o’ deyth.

LYSSK:
I’m not afraid of dying … for the right reason.

TSU XI TSU [rising up, advancing to the blacked out window]:
‘Ell, let uz open t’ winda then, then. Ah’m not afraid. Skeg a’ uz. Think o’ t’ trouble it takes ta li’. Think o’ t’ effoarts ta keep yursen gonneur on ‘n on. When theur lose uz tha’il just slip ‘n slip. Thars getten ta dee int’ en’ anyha. ‘N when thas dead it won’t mek enny difference ta thee ‘a long theur lived. It will be just as if tha’d nivva bin burn.

LYSSK [Her head following TSU XI TSU’S every movement]:
I don’t understand you.

TSU XI TSU [Edging towards the window]:
Aye theur doa. Ah can’t fyass t’ dayleight, Lyssk, if you’re not i’ it wi’ uz. Ah’m tooa jiggered. Aren’t theur jiggered? Wha’ will become o’ theur wiyaa’ uz ta tek care o’ theur?

LYSSK [Helpless when faced with human rationalizations]:
I don’t know.

TSU XI TSU:
Let’s turn ont’ lights. Then we won’t av ta wake up int’ mornin. Theur ‘n uz but — maybe — bur ah think thas scared.

LYSSK [Makes a noise half way between a hiss and a sniff, curls back into her fetal position on the mattress, her tail swishing angrily]:
Have it your way. Open the windows.

TSU XI TSU [in an ecstatic whisper]:
Oa, Lyssk!

[TSU XI TSU opens the window, the sounds of the outside world suddenly very loud and then turns on the single, naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling. She then comes down on tiptoe, trembling; lies next to LYSSK. The room is garishly bright]

LYSSK:
Now what? How long do you think this will take?

TSU XI TSU:
Not long, ah think. Ah doun’t kna li’. Dooant let’s call abaht it. Lyssk, does thee think i’ve getten t’ reet ta tek theur wi’ uz?

LYSSK:
With you? Where?

TSU XI TSU:
Now — li’ dis. Bur ah couldn’t thoil for anybody else ta ‘urt theur, darlin.

LYSSK:
You’re trembling. Are you the one who is scared now?

TSU XI TSU:
Ah’m not scared. ah’m just ‘appy.

LYSSK:
Happy?

TSU XI TSU:
Ah thowt i’d lost theur, Lyssk.

LYSSK:
Um. [Very long pause during which nothing happens save the wail of air raid sirens and the drone of German engines getting louder and louder] I never thought killing me would take so long. Do you think they’ll find enough of us to figure out who we were?

TSU XI TSU:
Wha’ theur wor? Ah expect sa.

LYSSK [hissing one last time, more to herself]:
Won’t that give the boffins something to talk about? I suppose none of my sisters who survived will ever know what happened to me.

TSU XI TSU:
They’ll figure summa’ art. Please dooant let’s call abaht it.

[Another long pause. The German planes are right over head. Still no sounds of bombs dropping. From down on the street an outraged male voice: “Oi! Turn that bloody light out!”]

LYSSK:
Well, someone noticed.

TSU XI TSU:
Lyssk?

LYSSK:
Yes?

TSU XI TSU [in a whisper]:
Uz darlin’! [Long pause. The sound of planes is definitely heading away]

LYSSK [with a loud sigh]:
How incredibly thick are those pilots? Should I go onto the roof and start waving my hands and jumping up and down?

TSU XI TSU:
These raids gue on for ‘ours. If dis wev dunt see wee ah’m sure t’ next ‘un will. Oa, Lyssk, cum on back ‘eear. Wi’ve onny getten such eur lahl while.

[The sound of planes has completely disappeared. Sounds of distant outrage. Feet pounding up wooden stairs]

LYSSK:
From the sounds of it we’ve got the whole neighborhood coming to visit.

TSU XI TSU:
Fert Lurt’s sake, dooant open t’ door! I’m sure eur bomb will fall soon!

[The air raid sirens fall silent. Outrage on the other side of the door. A multitude of voices: “Ay yous insane?” “Turn Frank Bough that Isle Of Wight!” “’Re ya tryin’ ter get us killed?” “Tirn off dat lamp!” etc.]

LYSSK [raising herself up on one elbow to stare at the door]:
How ironic. It won’t be the Nazis that kill us, but our neighbors.

TSU XI TSU [Sits up in bed, truly terrified as more and more fists rain down upon the door. It trembles, about to be ripped off its hinges]:
Nah! Nah! Nah! This isn’t supposed ter ‘appun like this!

LYSSK [pulling her lover close, inhaling deeply of her scent]:
Love, love of my heart, listen. Do you trust me?

TSU XI TSU [In a panic, not sure what LYSSK is even saying]:
Trust yous? O’ cose, ay trust yous wi’ me loife.

LYSSK [Standing up, all 7 feet of her suddenly dark and threatening, her old warrior nature rising to the surface]:
Then sit right there, close your eyes and whatever happens, don’t move.

[LYSSK leaps to the ceiling, to hang upside down in the exact spot where she was sleeping when the play began. The ferocious babel of voices on the other side of the door reaches a pinnacle of indignation and then the door bursts open. Fearful, irate neighbors in night shirts, slips and bathrobes — normal people terrified that the lit, open window would allow their whole neighborhood to be fire bombed — burst in]

WOMAN WITH ROLLING PIN AND CURLERS:
Ah ya tryen ter get us killed?

MAN IN PURPLE DRESSING GOWN:
Wa woods ye dae sic’ a hin’? Ah hae a fowk in thes buildin’, ye ken.

FACTORY WORKER IN NIGHT SHIRT:
Oi don’t want ter die the-nite! Oi don’t want ter die any noight.

[By this time the crowd has moved into the center of the room. TSU XI TSU appears zombified, apparently staring into space as the multitude crowds in around her. In truth she is gazing in awe at LYSSK, still out of sight but watching every move the humans make]

TSU XI TSU:
I’m — I’m soz. Bur — bur —

[LYSSK drops from the ceiling, between the invaders and the door, trapping them in the small room. She rises to her full height — 7 feet — black-green as poison, clawed cable-like arms held out at her sides, her segmented tail whipping back and forth, her shiny smooth head moving into the light. The entire cast turns to stare at her, horror-struck, mesmerized.The Xenomorph takes one threatening step toward them, as if she could gather everything in the room up in her arms and devour them all]

LYSSK [Making her shrill laugh]:
I say, this is a terrible way to end things.

[CURTAIN]

SAVAGE: a new telling of medea

22 Thursday May 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in drama

≈ Comments Off on SAVAGE: a new telling of medea

Tags

drama, Euripides, Medea, retelling, Seneca

Words of power are killing me,
while the sun displays its teeth.
All mockery is laughing,
all violence is cheap.
She said:
“These are my guns,
these are my furs,
this is my killing room.”
“You can play with me there sometimes
if you catch me in the mood.”

— EURYTHMICS, Savage

][][

CHARACTERS:

MEDEA: Priestess of Hecate, exiled princess, murderer and mother.

HANDMAIDEN: Medea’s adopted companion, confidant and plaything. She has followed Medea this far because she loves her “elder sister,” but fears not only for her own personal safety in a land where she is completely powerless but also for Medea’s sanity.

CREON: The syphilitic king of the city of Corinth. While it would be easy to portray his misogyny as high camp paranoia, that would be missing the point; Creon is the product of a whole culture that sees women as nothing more than slaves and political bargaining chips. The fact that Medea is a sorceress is beside the point. For Creon any woman who refuses to bow to her husband’s wishes is a threat.

JASON: If all our myths are filled with great men doing great deeds, ignoring all their failings in favor of singing their praise, then it is virtually impossible to give them a balanced treatment without redirecting the entire drama into a complex psychological examination of the male psyche. Seneca attempts this, somewhat, with having Jason actually recognize that he might be hurting Medea. Jean Anouilh’s Jason is full of ennui, wishing (but not acting on) a desire to simply disappear from any form of responsibility that his actions might have caused. I see no reason for that approach in this play. Jason lived off Medea for ten years, building up his own reputation off her skills and arts, having to have her save him time and time again. Creon might be highly repugnant by our modern sensibilities but he is the product of his own culture and values. Jason, though, is the closest the play gets to the sort of selfish wickedness that is being charged against Medea.

THE CHORUS: As in almost all Greek plays there were members of the cast whose purpose was to explain to the audience what was going on. They would be considered as “scantily clad info dumps” in this day age, telling Medea’s whole backstory in the prologue. Euripides’ Medea has a rather large chorus, which, if this was an opera, would make perfect sense, but as a play with so few characters simply becomes distracting. By keeping the number at two, making them citizens of the city in favor of the wedding between Jason and Creon’s daughter, Creusa, they give a more balanced view than what Medea and Jason represent.

][][

SCENE:
A barren wasteland outside the city walls of Corinth. To one side of the stage is a crude tent, fashioned from rags. A low baleful wind forever cries. It is the realm of the dead, the damned and the souls of outcasts. MEDEA enters, carrying a letter. She is in her early fifties, with long black hair streaked with gray. Contrary to popular belief she is, at this time, neither insane nor bombastic. As she begins reading the letter she walks aimlessly around, absorbed. Suddenly her entire frame quivers, a look of amazement passes over her face and the letter flutters from her fingers to the ground. She stands, as if turned to stone, staring into space. A long pause. MEDEA crouches down, as if suddenly she had gone blind. She reaches out, finds nothing and then begins to pull at her hair. She starts to make a horrible, keening sound, inhuman, moaning and rocking back and forth. She looks up; tear stained, terrified, miserable. When she speaks it is in a hoarse whisper.

MEDEA:
Hecate … gods … someone. Hear me … you who protect maidenheads and nuptial beds and the faithfulness of lovers … help me … please.

[MEDEA begins to crawl about on hands and knees, groaning.]

Where are my mothers with writhing hair and smoking torches? Where are my divine mothers, those who watch over the lives of their mortal daughters? Hecate, my queen, I call for you, remember that Jason of the Argonauts swore “forever.” Forever … who will punish those who break their oaths in love and marriage, punish those who offer up only empty promises?

Who is there? Will Grandmother Chaos end the world for me? Who will pull the sky down? Who will call upon the Dark Lady of bereavement? Call upon the Furies? Who will unleash the serpent-shaking nightmares? Who will be present now? Who will hear your wretched daughter?

[MEDEA finally gets herself under control, wipes her nose and eyes with the back of her hand. She stumbles to her feet. When she speaks again it is a long moan of pain.]

Heeeeeecate … you were present during our wedding rites and in our marriage bed. You tasted the blood I shed on the white cloth. You know the name of he who first entered me, he who swore on his mortal soul.

[MEDEA goes to pick up the fallen letter, looks at it.]

Mother, he says that he will find a new wife and a new bed. How can this be?

[Wraps herself in the cloak of Hecate’s priestess, begins mumbling to herself.]

… Hecate, mother … never once when I was a girl in service to your temple did I ever think that these hands of mine would be soaked in blood so willingly. Did I ever believe that I could cast my faith, or my family, or my people away so eagerly for a stranger … a man … a creature of clay? Can you hear me, Lady? My past is now a dream. It is now a nightmare. Children will recoil when I pass by. They will call me Madam Cataclysm, Madam Cat-Scratch, behind my back.

[MEDEA shred the letter in a burst of fury, then sags, waving her hands before her as if she had just burned them.]

Wounds … blood … the last death rattle in failed childbirth. What cruel trick stole all that was glorious and good in me?

Jason! For ten years I have tried to be like you. I became your wife, the mother of your children, your shield against a world that would have destroyed you long ago. Ever since the first day when the Argo landed on the shores of Colchis have I tried to please you in every way that I can. But now I have been cast aside by the one that I called my husband, by the one whom I sacrificed everything for.

Jason, ten years is a long time to live a lie. Was I ever a wife? Was I ever a mother? Was I even human? All the oaths that you swore to me have suddenly been forgotten now that you are about to marry another, daughter of the king. This hurt that has been done to me is bitter every time I think about my father, my city, my own brother, my own flesh murdered by my own hands. And why?

[Lights, laughter, noise and music. MEDEA retreats to one side of the stage as the CHORUS enters, still celebrating the wedding of JASON and CREUSA.]

CHORUS #1:
May the virile gods of the sky and earth be present and bless the marriage of our new prince, Lord Jason. May they grant the full happiness that a man might experience on such a night.

CHORUS #2:
How lovely is the bride, our princess, the envy of Athenian and Spartan women. To find a rival for this unrivaled beauty one must look to the heavens, when the great gods’ passion for virgins brings them to walk among us.

CHORUS #1:
Only a conqueror like Jason could be worthy such a hind.

CHORUS #2:
Did you see how he whispered in her ear and caused a gentle blush as the dawn rouging the dewy meadows?

CHORUS #1:
New vows mark a new day, and what has been said before must end. The perverse woman of Colchis has been replaced by one much more fetching.

CHORUS #2 [seeing MEDEA]:
Perverse, indeed! In all happy festivals there is one, of course, who scuttles back into her own self-made misery like a crab, moaning against our wedding songs and delight. I say let the crab go.

CHORUS #1:
She is a foreign woman. Let her go back to her people, wherever the land of her birth might really be. Our ways have never been her ways. She was never charitable among us. She calls herself royalty but without a nation and without a state.

[The CHORUS takes their seats on the far side, away from MEDEA as she and her HANDMAIDEN return to center stage.]

MEDEA:
This is a nightmare. I have nothing. Jason took it all and foolish I followed him here. Now I’m abandoned, alone, a stranger. How can this man that I loved toss me away as if I were nothing?

[MEDEA sits down and lets the HANDMAIDEN to comb her hair as she fumes.]

Yes, yes, I have done evil, so what? The poets say that love can accomplish anything, but I say so can hate. They say he is a man of honor, but I say that’s not true. For his honor he would have followed me to hell is I asked. A sword can cut through all the lies and a man’s cowardliness. If he loved me, as I love him, he would have refused, defied King Creon’s offer. He would have taken me and fled for love, if not for honor. Now I doubly cursed: unloved and dishonored.

[MEDEA stands up suddenly, clawing at her robes.]

Shall I choke in my own priestess robes? Never! I shall engineer such malice as will remind the groom and bride that sacred vows are not playthings of fools and the faithless. Let their marriage torches blaze bright and merry. My heart’s flames will not be contained so easily.

[MEDEA tears her robes from her, standing defiant and half-naked, her fists raised.]

Damn them all! Jason’s house will be smashed! Creon shall be king of rubble and ash! Creusa shall burn in her wedding bed. Little man, I gave up my life for you! I saved you more times than I can count. How do you repay me? Bah! You are a husband of broken pledges. You are a man whose words of love have all been lost to the wind. You act as if Medea didn’t exist anymore. More the fool you, for I do! I do and this city will burn once Medea’s towering flames have leveled it.

HANDMAIDEN [embarrassed for the older woman, hurriedly trying to redress her]:
Hush, elder sister, cover yourself up, I beg of you. Keep all of this to yourself.

MEDEA:
Never!

HANDMAIDEN:
I will try and help you come up with something, but bide your time. All you do is scream out threats as if the city were deaf.

MEDEA [finally dressed, haughty]:
Child, inconsequential grief is always easy to hide. Mine calls out for blood.

HANDMAIDEN:
Please! Please, tell me what you’re going to do.

MEDEA:
Fortune favors the bold and none are bolder than Medea.

HANDMAIDEN:
But, elder sister, you’re only one. A mother and alone!

MEDEA:
What is it about motherhood that makes you think the trade is so frail? I tell you, motherhood or no motherhood, I have led my father’s army into battle. I have used my dark arts to subdue whole nations. While Medea lives then there is hope for me and fear for my enemies.

HANDMAIDEN:
But your wealth is gone. What can you do alone?

MEDEA:
I am never alone as long as I have my wrath, fury, fire and malice.

HANDMAIDEN:
What good is malice against jails they can throw us in to and never be heard of again? Men who can rape and kill with the king’s blessing? Flee!

MEDEA:
For ten years I have fled. No. Not anymore.

HANDMAIDEN:
My lady!

MEDEA:
Yes, I am Lady Medea!

HANDMAIDEN:
You are a mother!

MEDEA:
Child, don’t you think that I don’t know that?

HANDMAIDEN:
Then flee, for your children’s sake … as well as your own!

MEDEA:
Am I to be lectured to about responsibility by one whose breasts have yet to fill out her tunic? You think I am mad, and perhaps I do clutch tightly to those seeds, but I clutch them to help me survive.

HANDMAIDEN:
If you act in violence they’ll hunt after you.

MEDEA:
Let the dogs come. I will toss them such a bone as to send them howling for cover.

HANDMAIDEN:
Your boldness will undo you. Not even a princess can remain regal when she bathes in blood. Humble yourself. Remember that we are alone.

MEDEA:
“We?” Little sister, all that is left to me is what no one can take away: my anger, my soul, my revenge. But I promise you this, before dawn shows her face, my feckless husband will have wished that the Argo had broken itself into splinters before reaching my father’s shores.

[Sudden noise of marching feet, clang of armor, etc. HANDMAIDEN exits, MEDEA retreats to the right side of the stage, CREON and two soldiers enter.]

CREON:
The witch is still here? Fie! She is scheming up some new devilry, no doubt. It’s in her blood. These barbarian whores don’t understand the value of compassion and love. A pox! I wanted her executed, drawn and quartered, thrown to the wild dogs, but my daughter and her new husband demanded that her life be spared. Exile is too good for this succubus, eater of men’s vitality, Mistress of Impotence. But all I can do now is see that she is cast out immediately and without all her usual moaning.

[MEDEA approaches CREON, who takes a nervous step backward.]

Damnation! See how she walks like a minx, like a shameless slattern! Keep her away. I don’t want to see her or hear her. Tempter of men! Do not let her come closer.

[To MEDEA.]

Away, you! You are disgraceful. Phew! Go! You should not be permitted to breathe our same air.

[To himself.]

She might spread her womanly disease, somehow, simply by passing by.

MEDEA [genuinely confused]:
“Keep away?” But what have I done? Why do you cover your nose as if I were a miserable leper?

CREON:
Witch! Why do you approach the royal person?

MEDEA:
I ask for justice.

CREON:
“Justice?” You taint justice with your sore-encrusted presence. Your sick desires pervert all that you touch. I am a king. My word is law. There is nothing else. You must obey.

MEDEA:
A grave wrong cannot be suffered.

CREON:
A pox cannot be suffered! My son-in-law has told me stories of your Colchis orgies, of your debaucheries, of your corruption. You break down all natural gates. You make men mad with your hunger and cravings. Return to the palace of your father, if he will take in such an unworthy daughter.

MEDEA:
I see. Well, then, let the one who brought me to you take me back.

CREON:
And pollute the royal body even more? Don’t be absurd! It’s too late. He’s is saved from your tetters and scabs.

MEDEA [ignoring the last insult with an arched eyebrow]:
So, king, I am to be divorced and cast out all in one day and yet my case was never heard.

CREON:
Meh. You talk pretty but so does everyone with a forked tongue. Very well, I am listening. What words do you have in your defense?

MEDEA:
King Creon, listen closely. I know what desire can do. You once said that love ruins the body, and I tend to agree. When everything that you do for love turns you into an object of pity, leaves you forsaken, an exile among strangers, then it is very hard not to be cynical of the very same love that brought you so low. You talk about the royal body. I once lived in a palace, as well. The blood of Hecate runs through my veins. I drank from crystal and silver goblets just like you. Princes from a hundred lands came to woo and sue for my hand. Had you known me back then you would have called me your “little sister.” But what is a royal body when it no longer can be called royal? The gods’ favor and man’s brief glory can be snatch away. What do the poor know about loss if they’ve had nothing to lose in the first place? But you and I? Without the royal “we” then we are monsters. Everything that we do is monstrous and we are only forgiven for our deeds because the gods smile on us. Today you look on me with scorn but remember, it was I who saved the Argo … I did that. I saved your son-in-law and all his brave companions. Castor and Pollux live only because of me. Zetes, Calais and Lynceus, too. All these men who are now your allies with kingdoms of their own; they all owe their lives because of me. You treat me like a criminal, a petty thief, but tell me, what are my crimes? What laws of your city have I broken that requires me leaving here forever?

CREON:
There have been told tales of many shameful acts.

MEDEA:
“Shameful acts?” Yes, of course. Everything that I do, in your eyes, is shameful. I will not pretend that I ever tried to pass myself off as a noble Grecian. But are those crimes? What charges, what legal charges, I mean, have been made against me? If I’m to be punished then at punish my coconspirator as well.

CREON:
What do you mean?

MEDEA:
If I have sinned it was because of Jason.

CREON:
You can stand there and talk philosophy all you want and pretend to be outraged when someone mentions the evil that you have done all you want. The stories that my son-in-law has told me have set my teeth on edge. Why do you think my neighbor, King Acastus, has a warrant out for your head on account of what you are said to have done to his father in Thessaly? Jason might have been young and brash when he was with you, but so are all men when they are in a harpy’s spell. It was you, Medea, who charmed Peleas’ daughters into cutting up their father and boiling his body with tales of immortality and secret potions and brews! You are a monstrous woman and treacherous. You act as you can’t imagine what I’m talking about, but I must purge cancer from the royal body before it spreads any further.

MEDEA:
Market rumors and stories of old women is why you are driving me away? Then give me back my ship and my captain, too. We arrived together and we share in the same guilt. If I killed Peleas–

CREON:
“If?”

MEDEA:
–it was not done for me. Everything I’ve done was for my husband. We fled together after I killed my brother for him.

CREON:
You shed the blood of your own family? Atrocious!

MEDEA:
And you have not? Where is your uncle now? Where are his sons who were a threat to your reign? Yes, I killed my own brother for Jason. For him I deserted my father. But you have it confused. Don’t the Greeks preach that wives are simply the vassals of their husbands? To be used like slaves? You call me a barbarian and yet by your own twisted logic, I was simply doing my husband’s bidding. I am blameless.

CREON:
You waste your words. You waste my time.

MEDEA:
I see. So nothing I can say will change your mind?

CREON:
There is nothing to change. You are a witch and a whore.

MEDEA:
I am also a mother. Allow me one last request. My sons are innocent in all this. Do not allow their barbarian mother to taint their futures.

CREON [with vile contempt]:
Do not worry about their future. For as long as they are with me I shall be as a doting father to them.

MEDEA [reading the threat unspoken in CREON’S words]:
So … I ask you one thing more. By all that you hold holy, by the marriage of your son-in-law to your daughter, I beg you; delay my exile for one more day. Allow me a mother’s farewell to my sons.

CREON:
Why? I trust you no more than a poxed temple priestess. You’ll use the time for wickedness.

MEDEA:
You give me too much credit, king. What can one woman, alone, do in a day?

CREON:
What can’t you do?

MEDEA:
Would you deny the sons of your son-in-law one last parting with their mother?

CREON:
I would if I could. But today, on this festive day, I cannot. Very well, siren, you have one day to bid your sons goodbye, forever.

MEDEA:
You are right. “Forever” is the right word for it.

CREON:
Bah! You are wasting a man’s precious time. One day! Then, if you are found within the walls of this city you shall die. No mercy! No pleas. No charms. Do you understand?

[CREON stares at MEDEA for a long, hard moment.]

Goodbye. You will excuse me now. I am late for my daughter’s wedding feast.

[CREON and SOLDIERS exit left; MEDEA exits right. The CHORUS stands.]

CHORUS #1:
The king talks of the Spartan disease and the foul rot of his loins. Who first brought such strange fruit back into this land? Who was the first to look across the sea and wonder what mysteries lay beyond the horizon? Who was the first to watch the coast dwindle away to nothing and not turn back? Ships, like faith, are frail. Wood is said to be the only thing standing between us and Poseidon’s kingdom.

CHORUS #2:
Yes, yes, yes. Now we long for the dim past when no one ventured far from his own farm. We long for a time, if it ever existed, when reading the stars and navigating the waters were unknown, were feared and seen as a sign of madness.

CHORUS #1:
But now we have hungers uncontrolled. From distant shores we hunt for unruly passions and commit crimes against nature that we could never have once imagined.

CHORUS #2:
If only there weren’t monsters. If only there weren’t terrors, enchantresses and foreign agents to invade and bring with them their foreign strangeness, new pests and diseases. But of all the horror brought to us, the worst, by far, is the anarchic Medea. I have sailed through waterspouts on the silver surface of the sun-kissed sea, but nothing and no one is more vicious than Medea.

CHORUS #1:
Is she a curse? Do the gods turn on us for some ancient wrong not even our grandfather’s grandfather can remember? We bow and supplicate for crimes we do not understand still punishment follows.

CHORUS #2:
Are the lambs guilty when a wolf prowls among them? How could we have known that the woman that we once welcomed among us would be the bearer of terrors more ghastly than those that Prometheus must live through? Her malice is impossible to ignore. She intends to do harm to all who live in Corinth.

CHORUS #1:
She came on that damned ship and it is said that the figurehead of the Argo was carved from the wood of Lady Diana’s trees; holy wood taken from the sacred oaks that were able to speak to mortals in the gods’ voices. They said that the figurehead could warn Prince Jason of the dangers that lay ahead. Why was it silent for us, innocents, when the ship first appeared in our harbor? Why did not the earth scream out when Medea disembarked for the very first time?

[A half-naked MEDEA enters, hurrying out of her tent, in her Hecate possession. She is chased by the HANDMAIDEN, afraid and distraught.]

HANDMAIDEN:
Wait, elder sister! Restrain your passions. I beg you! Get a hold of yourself. For shame’s sake! Listen! Listen to me. I beg you …

[MEDEA continues to wander about the stage, pulling at her hair, clearly out of her mind.]

Furious Maenad! Raving One! Love of my heart! Medea is possessed. Her hair is undone. Her breasts run red from blood drawn by her nails. Her eyes blaze with a hallowed fervor. Dark Lady! Hecate! I am terrified now to behold your daughter. See! She gags; she sobs, she screams and then turns and is silent. I try to pet and calm her but the raving only begins again. I fear it will end in something appalling. I fear and fear.

[MEDEA suddenly turns, dark and terrible, approaches HANDMAIDEN glaring]

Mother, mother, mother, how did I end up here? Abandoned and my lady raving mad.

MEDEA [a burst of anger, then slowly her anger drains away so that she is speaking in a monotone]:
Blood and Fury! There are no limits to love, nor should there be to hate … for they are two aspects of the same. Fierce as a wounded beast I shall turn … on my attacker to swing and slash, eager to bring … them down … no fire can match the burning … within my neither-soul.

[MEDEA sags. As if in a trance, wraps her arms around the HANDMAIDEN, pulls her close.]

Child. Child? I was a child once, in my father’s palace. I dreamed that I would one day wreak such havoc upon men that they would whisper in horrified awe of Medea for a thousand years. What was Jason thinking? How can a lover’s passion pale that way? He still could have come to speak to me, to explain, to bid me farewell. But not a word, as if he feared me, too. The son-in-law of the king, he could have pleaded in my behalf, for my children’s sake, for mine. But nothing, nothing, nothing. I have but a single day to set the world ablaze. I shall make do. Don’t I always make do? Ah, child, child, darling of my heart. I shall make do.

HANDMAIDEN [completely out of her depth as to what to do, simply clinging to MEDEA]:
Elder sister, please, calm down.

MEDEA [shaking her head as if waking from a dream, looks down at the HANDMAIDEN, slowly pulls herself away from the girl’s embrace]:
Ah! The only calm for me is in death, stillborn and ruin. As I drown so shall I drag them down with me.

[MEDEA exit.]

HANDMAIDEN [calling after MEDEA in despair]:
What can you do all alone? Your strength is nothing compared to theirs. You can only hurt yourself!

[Enter JASON.]

JASON [seeing the HANDMAIDEN who shrinks from him]:
Ah! I came looking for my wife and found her adopted daughter instead. Child, you are as beautiful now as I remember. Remember the first time I took you? All with your mistress’ consent. It was a pleasure breaking you …

[The HANDMAIDEN rushes off stage, miserable.]

… and now how quickly she flees from me. They say bitter medicine is what is best for our ills and yet all that I have faced tastes sweet in my mouth. She calls me faithless and fickle, but in the city they call me a hero. What is a hero but a man who takes what he wants? You can’t be both. If I must be judged let them say Jason was full of anguish, passion, fury and love.

[Enter MEDEA, under self-control, dressed and respectable.]

If there was ever the opposite of anguish, passion, fury and love then it approaches now.

MEDEA [unexpectedly gently, at least at first]:
Husband. So you’ve come to take me away. Are we to flee one last time? You remember how we lived, don’t you? It was ten years that we were together, fleeing together, fighting together, forever and together? But … no. I see it in your face. The letter that you sent did not lie. Where can Hecate’s daughter go to? Do you think I would return to Colchis and the palace drenched with mv little brother’s blood? Everywhere is now closed to Medea and her Jason. Tell me, where can I go? Ah, I see! The son-in-law of the king does not know. He just commands, and prays that I shall yield, that I go uncomplaining back into the shadows while he soaks up the sun’s love.

[MEDEA stands dangerously close to JASON then goes spinning away, laughing.]

My, my, my. I suppose that for reasons confused and muddy you hoped that Medea deserves to be punished for her folly. Ungrateful, little man, do you remember the dragon’s teeth and the armed men who sprang out of the ground to destroy you? Of course you do and had it not been for me, puppy, you would have suffered a hideous death. Not because Jason was clever or wise but because he had Medea. Or think of my poor brother, dead, dismembered, scattered. Did you escape my father’s palace because you were crafty or clever? No. You let me murder my own flesh for which now I am being damned, all to save your worthless hide. Think of King Peleas, too, whom, through my dark arts, I bid his daughters cut up so that you might be a bigger tyrant than ever he was. And now you call it butchery? And now the king who raped his aunt and sold his own daughter to a cut-throat outlaw judges me as sinful? I swear to you, Jason, husband, little man, by the monstrosities that we conquered, by the dangers that we endured; by the heavens and all the hells; by darling Hecate who was witness to our wedding rites, I ask for compassion. Do not think that you are safe or innocent in any of this. I know what I gave away, forfeited, sacrificed for you, because you asked, because I loved you. Can you give me back my father, brother, native land, my maidenhead, as well as the wealth of the Indies and Scythian gold piled high? No. You have neither the skill, or art or heart for magic. Now that all of it gone, spent by you, you will abandoned me for one with a bigger dowry. I used up all my money on you, baby, and I want it back.

JASON:
I tell you, Creon wanted you killed. I pleaded, begged for your life.

MEDEA:
Of course you begged. You’ve been begging all your life.

JASON:
Go while you can. The anger of kings is dreadful.

MEDEA:
“The anger of kings?” There is only one anger you need to fear and it does not hide behind the whims of the crown and scepter.

JASON:
Why should I fear that?

MEDEA:
Why? Is that a serious question or has your brain gone soft on all the praises Creon heaps on you every day. “Hero of the Argos,” and “Jason of the Golden Fleece.” Why? Because you profit on all the blood I have spilt in your name. My sins are yours. You think that the world will accuse me and somehow remain silent for you? You will go to Creon and maintain that I am guiltless, if you are going to try and claim that you are guiltless.

JASON:
That would be dishonorable.

MEDEA:
Honor? I have never met a less honorable man than you. And yet you cling to this lie despite all this?

JASON:
Medea, calm yourself. Think of our children. What I do is for their sake.

MEDEA:
“Our children?” The ones that Creon hints that he will mistreat if I do not leave tonight?

JASON:
My father-in-law would never hurt our sons.

MEDEA:
Father-in-law, eh?

JASON:
Why do you want to ruin a good future for you children? I’ve done the best I could. You should go now.

MEDEA:
Ah yes, the best anyone could. It might surprise you, but Creon has heard my modest proposal. I have time enough to say a proper goodbye.

JASON [becoming nervous]:
The what do you want? Tell me what you want and I shall do it.

MEDEA [sarcastic]:
You’ll do what I want?

JASON:
I am nagged everywhere I turn: on one side a king, on the other –

MEDEA:
By your wife! By Medea! And little man you know that I am the wickeder one by far. Had you come begging me to protect you, as you have done countless times before when it was only your worthless hide at stake, then I would have gladly let the king struggle with me and you would have been a pretty trophy.

JASON [nervous]:
Woman! Enough! Say what you want me to do. Hurry! Do not cause the Furies to turn on us.

MEDEA:
Until the Furies have always listened to my advice.

JASON:
King Acastus has sworn to kill you.

MEDEA:
Kill us. And you think marriage into Creon’s house will save you? You think the cousin of the father-in-law will somehow not get his way in the end? Creon is old and afraid and sees enemies in every shadow.

JASON:
So what? Are you suggesting that if I ran away with you one more time that I could somehow be better off than I am now? What if they hunted us down?

MEDEA [laughing]:
Let those two do what their hearts please; and the kingdoms of Colchis and Aeetes, as well. Throw in the mewling Scythians and the Pelasgians, too. The whole world can turn on me and I will destroy them all.

JASON:
You joke. You’ve been away from your beloved Hecate for so long you delude yourself into thinking you’re a goddess yourself.

MEDEA:
You have seen me and my dark arts. You have watched me lead an army into war. Maybe here in Greece women are slaves and broodmares but not Medea.

JASON [unnerved and incensed]:
Enough. We have taken too long already. You must go.

MEDEA [calmly]:
You think that I mad, that I am out of control. But that is just fear. Dumb, stupid fear. For ten years you have slept at my side. You think that you can trick yourself into believing that I am a monster. That I can summon up the heavens to rain thunderbolts down upon you, that I can call up avenging fires to shake the dull rock of your new world. You think this because you’ve seen me do it before. And because you know what I can do you’d rather see me in a pure, blind rage, a rage so vast that it would consume Medea along with it. But having to confront a calm woman? A composed wife who states only the facts? You are helpless before such power.

JASON [flustered]:
Quit calling yourself that! I call all displays of womanly tantrums, no matter loud or soft, a weakness. You talk too much and listen far too little. Consider what you need for your exile. I shall supply whatever you request.

MEDEA:
Of course you will. I ask for my children. Give me back my children. You will have new sons and daughters with your new wife. I cannot. I thought leaving my sons with you and Creon would be a blessing for them, but I fear the worse. Let me have them as companions in my grief. I would rather have them by my side in certainty than abandon them to uncertainty.

JASON:
I wish that I could do that, for your sake. But as a father, I have to think what’s best for them. King Creon would not permit it in any case, for, if they went with you, he would always fear them.

MEDEA [to herself]:
So Jason and Creon have turned my own flesh and blood into the very weapons that will guarantee their own destruction? This is indeed a nightmare and I am powerless to stop it. Hecate! I need your wisdom.

[To JASON.]

So be it. But you will let me say goodbye, will you not? I shall be the only mother that they know. Do not deny me so little. If anger burnt in me, if its smoke blinded my eyes, it is spent.

JASON:
Of course, you may see your children before you go. I only ask that you control yourself in a womanly manner.

MEDEA:
Of course. “In a womanly manner.”

[JASON exit.]

MEDEA:
Unbelievable! He walks off like that? As if he hadn’t a care in the world? How can he forget who I am? What I’ve done? Ten years! For ten years I’ve been by his side and today he acts as if it had never happened.

[To herself.]

He acts as if his hands are clean, as if he has no memory of what we have done. Vicious hands, blood-spattered crimes, terrible love. Others have called me shameless, I know I am fearless, but can I be heartless? If I must. If I must …

[To her HANDMAIDEN.]

Girl, go to the tent and in my chest there is a robe, a treasure of given to me by my aunt, Circe. There is also a headdress from the highlands of Urartu, set with precious gems. Let my sons bring these precious gilts to the bride.

[The HANDMAIDEN exit.]

But let me first prepare an exquisite poison. I will call on Hecate. I will pray for the powers of darkness and death.

[MEDEA exit.]

CHORUS #1:
Ugh! Nothing in nature, nothing in war, nothing any mortal man can do, terrifies as much as a woman’s disgust.

CHORUS #2:
You cannot argue with women when they rave. They seem to enjoy destroying the world around them for no other reason than to watch it burn.

CHORUS #1:
We pray that Jason may be safe. What is the point of going out to achieve marvelous exploits if you come back home and find worse and more sordid troubles than you ever did on the surface of the sea?

CHORUS #2:
Women are the undoing of all the great heroes. Orpheus went to hell but when he came back was he then happy? No. a frenzy of women tore him apart.

CHORUS #1:
The exploits of heroes are like that; splendid to hear about but then, at the end, there’s dreadful reversal. Even Hercules, striding the earth, perished in a poisoned shirt.

CHORUS #1:
What good is the gift then? How which are the blessings and which the curses. Better therefore not to be noticed. Keep your head down, live simply and never adventure. The roads have dangers, the woods are bad, but the sea is the worst; cruel and vindictive.

[The HANDMAIDEN enters.]

HANDMAIDEN:
My soul shakes at the terrible vengeance fermenting in my lady’s heart. She shines with a beauty that terrifies me. The sun and moon grow pale at the monstrous things that she concocts. These rites I have seen before, they are hideous. Serpents’ milk is not so deadly. Unclean carrion birds are not so foul. At her Hecate’s shrine she recites her incantations and performs her grisly ceremonies to bring forth her dark arts. She prays to Mistress Rage and Lady Fear to accept her devotion, sanctify her spite and inspire dread in a big payback. As she prays the air around her turns foul with pollution and vile haze rise up around her and yet she blooms, laughs, looks ten years younger. As I stand near, helpless, her Greek neighbors walk to and fro, snickering over what they jest at our primitive beliefs, simple-minded superstitions from far away. And still she prays and chants and meditates. My lady, elder sister, Medea!

[Begins pacing, much like MEDEA herself.]

The question that she asks is whether it’s worse to do evil in a sane and orderly world, or admit that there is no order or sanity, that chaos spins our empty lives this way and that to make a momentary pattern, perhaps, perhaps even a pleasing one, as the ash that swirls from a fire makes a random dance in the air, but it is meaningless to try to find a deeper meaning from it. If there is structure or form to be found it is the reckless structure of rage, the form of despair. Torture has its own code. Pain its laws. To these obscene commandments is my lady driven, and from all that burns in her heart only grander sins can come.

[Enter MEDEA, carrying a small cauldron on a tripod which she places in the middle of the stage.]

MEDEA:
I am Medea, daughter of King Aeëtes of Colchis, niece to the goddess Circe Invidiosa, granddaughter of the sun god Helios, and Medea has returned. I invoke the gods and demand that they rouse themselves from their indifference over mortal affairs. Come down and come to my need. I pray to and call upon the moon goddess, my Hecate, grisly queen of the night. Be with me now, mother, in your most dire shade. I need your hands to help me now.

[Takes out a small knife.]

For Hecate I cut my long hair short, for you I take off my sandals, and walk in a barefoot circle. For you I call on heaven to open and pour down blood like rain.

[Cuts off her long hair, throws it into the cauldron.]

Hecate, hear me! I offer all that is me to you. My power is your power and my honor is yours, and the passion … and the revenge. Accept my gifts, O queen!

[Raises up one of her bare arms, places the knife across her wrist.]

Hecate, I offer blood for blood, cutting myself until I grow mad like a Maenad. The hand that holds the knife is yours. The arm that divulges the blood is yours. Accept this gift and lend me your breathtaking power.

[MEDEA cuts her arm and lets the blood flow into the cauldron. She waits for a moment, looks around, then speaks to one only she can see.]

Yes, mother, I know. I have returned to you once more. [pause] No, no. You have always been kind grateful and I have been a fool. [pause] Yes, Jason … again. But mother, mother, what am I to do?

[Startled, MEDEA takes a phial out of her pocket and stares at it. She then pours its contents into the cauldron as well.]

Poison. Of course. So it begins.

[MEDEA moves over to the tent and removes a robe from her chest. The robe is magnificent, what MEDEA herself wore when a princess back in Colchis. She places the robe on the ground.]

Creusa’s funeral dress. My lady, let this cloth cheat the eye. Let smoke arise from her body as if, on a spit, she were roasting alive, her hair incandescent. Let the flames consume her, let them burn her flesh down to her her marrow, make her virgin blood boil. But then, and then, and then, let them begin their magic, penetrating the skin and veins and the bones with their burning. Let her screams float on the wind to silence the world.

[MEDEA pours a thick liquid from the cauldron onto the dress. There is a terrible hiss as the fabric soaks in the poison.]

MEDEA [turning to her HANDMAIDEN]:

My prayers are heard. Now are my powers inexorable. Bring my sons so that they might carry this gift of mine to the bride.

[MEDEA’S TWO SONS are brought in.]

Ah, my darlings, born to a most unfortunate fate. This gift will help you to win the love of your new mother. Take it to Creusa. When you are done, return to embrace your mother for the last time.

[The TWO SONS exit toward the palace while MEDEA exits opposite across the stage, carrying the cauldron with her.]

CHORUS #1:
What was that all about? These heathens with their odd and primitive rites; it is a blasphemy for such a woman as Medea to utter nonsense to her gods.

CHORUS #2:
Perhaps, but I think she was rather impressive with all her mumbo-jumbo. Emotion like what she just treated us to can be alarming if real. If only she had gone into theater instead of turning outlaw. One would hardly think that a foreigner, a powerless woman, could ever pretend to have bottled up so much violence hidden inside such a small frame.

[Enter a MESSENGER, running, from the direction of the palace.]

MESSENGER:
Disaster! Catastrophe! Ruin! Complete devastation! The walls of the castle have fallen, our city has toppled, and father and daughter are dead. They are nothing but ashes!

CHORUS #2:
What? Tell us what has happened!

MESSENGER:
A trick.

CHORUS #1:
A trick? Explain yourself.

MESSENGER:
What is there to explain? The fire rages, the house is fallen, the city burns and quakes with terror.

CHORUS #1:
If the city burns why are you here? We must fetch water!

MESSENGER:
Water? Water only feeds the flames. All that was ordered by Nature has now been cursed.

[Enter MEDEA and her HANDMAIDEN.]

HANDMAIDEN [to MEDEA]:
My lady, flee! You can still get away. Go at once, wherever you will but go!

MEDEA:
Me? Go? That is funny, indeed! My vengeance has only just started. Why should I go when I can stay here and look and listen? These men in their arrogance and hubris have awoken a dragon. Now, I am a fury, I am Medea. For years I used the red threads of fate to draw Jason to me, but tonight I shall snip each and every one. Anyone can kill a brother; that happens every day. Anyone can steal their father’s treasure and run away. But to utterly crush a man’s spirit? to burn down all that he stood for and to watch him spend the end of his days hated and alone? Such an act requires dreadful and astonishing things. It is a beautiful thing. Not one shred of Jason’s glory shall remain. Not one! If he won’t love me for who I am then he will fear me for what I can do. You heard him say it! He would keep them for himself. They are not mine! Their blood is not my blood. Better be rid of such an unspeakable past.

[MEDEA begins to cry, with superhuman strength pulls herself together.]

My tears are nonsense; they are not for anyone else but Medea. Was I a good mother? Did I love them? I was. I have. But he took ten years from me; now I will take a lifetime from him. I will tear them from his arms and watch as their blood like tears gushes over their father’s upturned face.

[Calling to the HANDMAIDEN.]

Bring my children here! The Furies assemble, waving their torches and all I can do is think of my poor brother, Absyrtus, calling out in the Underworld for justice with his severed limbs piled around him in a heap. Brother, I will make your death meaningful. Watch. There’s nothing Medea cannot endure.

[MEDEA’S TWO SONS enter.]

Ah, my darlings, come here!

[To the eldest.]

You will go to your uncle, the old man who said he would dote on you. You are his from now on.

[MEDEA kills him. Noises can be heard offstage.]

What is this? Cowards rushing to prevent a disaster? Ah, and here comes the biggest coward of them all.

[To her YOUNGER SON.]

Come, darling, we’ll go to our sleeping mat, where you slept by my side all the days of your life. Don’t be afraid. You shall sleep deeply soon.

[To herself.]

O my soul; be strong! Let the whole world see what you have done, what you are about to do, and tremble.

[Exit MEDEA, leading her SON by the hand. JASON enters, armed, leading soldiers. He addresses the CHORUS.]

JASON:
People of Corinth! Your prince would speak! Where is she? Bring the witch to me! Show me where she is, the butcher, the cunt and I shall make her answer for this and pay her back for all that she has done. There! The tent! Burn it, with her inside. Raze it to the ground.

MEDEA [stepping out from the tent, carrying the limp form of her SON in her arms, facing down JASON]:
A princess restored, mistress of all that I see. All the things that I once held dear — my father, my poor brother, Colchis, the Golden Fleece — matter not. The deed is done and the vengeance begins. I abide to a terrible and incontrovertible law, in fact, the only law both gods and mankind cannot escape from. It is a law that—I confess — I obey with joy.

JASON:
A harpy up until the very end; by all the gods as my witness I will strike you down and kill you where you stand!

MEDEA [chuckles]:
No, Jason, you will not. Funny, little Jason. Your beautiful young wife is dead, and your rich and powerful father-in-law, too. A horrible death befell them. From my hands. Because of you.

JASON:
No! By the gods, you how could you?

MEDEA:
I was just curious to see if a man who abandoned his wife was even capable of feeling anything for anyone other than himself.

JASON:
Damn you! One child lies senseless on the ground, the other hangs in your arms. I call on you as a mother to let them go.

MEDEA:
Let them go? But of course.

[MEDEA turns the corpse on the ground over with her foot, revealing that the front of his shirt is soaked in blood]

JASON:
No!

MEDEA:
And here.

[MEDEA drops the corpse in her arms, wearing a matching blood-soaked shirt, next to the first. JASON falls to his knees, howling.]

MEDEA:
Still … little man, two is not enough. A thousand would not be enough. If I found in my children of yours lurking deep between my thighs, I’d take the most bitter of women’s herbs to deliver only blood, disaster and stillbirths.

JASON [groveling on the ground]:
Why? Why! Where are the gods?

MEDEA:
Where they always are. Deaf and mute unless they take time from their games to laugh at the misfortunes of lesser creatures. And you are, certainly, Jason of the Argonauts, a lesser creature. Remember who I was and who I am. I return to the land of nightmares, for nightmares are all that you monsters can see in me.

[MEDEA gestures with her arms. A huge golden chariot pulled by two dragons descends from the sky. She climbs onboard and is borne away.]

SAVAGE: a glance at the plot of the tragedy “medea”

20 Tuesday May 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in drama

≈ Comments Off on SAVAGE: a glance at the plot of the tragedy “medea”

Tags

drama, Euripides, Medea, savage, Seneca, tragedy

The story of Medea is very old. Apollonius of Rhodes wrote about her in the 3rd century BC. The great writers of the ancient Western world –Ovid, Euripides and Seneca, among others — were fascinated about her myth. Unlike many other Greek tragic heroines Medea is complex and depending on the time and era that her story is being told there are many different sides to her personality. Medea the wife. Medea the mother. Medea the victim. Medea the witch. Medea the killer of her own children. The details change from author to author, but what is generally agreed upon is that Medea, if not an outright shaman or necromancer herself, was a priestess to the goddess of the night, Hecate. She falls in love with the hero Jason and agrees to help him find the Golden Fleece. There is some debate as to whether her actions were voluntary, Apollonius claims that the goddess Aphrodite cursed Medea to help Jason knowing it would lead to her downfall. Whatever the case, Medea and Jason at some point flee her native land and in the process she kills her own brother, Absyrtus. For ten years the two of them travel as exiles, living in various locations around the Mediterranean. Even though Euripides’ play states that she only had two sons, other sources say Medea was the mother of Alcimenes, Thessalus, Tisander, Mermeros and Pheres, as well as a daughter, Eriopis. It all goes to hell, however, when, while living in Corinth, Jason abandons Medea for King Creon’s daughter, Glauce. Medea’s revenge comes in the form of a wedding dress and golden coronet, both of which are covered in poison, which result in the deaths of both the princess and the king when he tries to save her. According to the poet Eumelus, Medea accidentally kills her children in the process, though Euripides’ much more famous version of filicide — premeditative murder of her own children — is what people most commonly associate with her. The story usually ends with Medea leaving Corinth for Athens in a flying chariot. It is interesting that Medea can be seen as both a powerless victim using murder as her only way to gain control of her life, as well as a force of nature beyond the control of mortal man, who does everything that she does not out of desperation but because she has complete agency.

What I present here is a rough outline concerning the plot points of the drama, what I’m using as I am (slowly) working on my own version. For anyone interested in watching a longer version of the play I suggest the 1969 film adaptation by Italian director Pier Paolo Pasolini and featuring the opera singer Maria Callas in the title role.

][][

MEDEA [by herself, mad with grief]:
Hecate! Gods! If you exist hear my sorrow. My pain demands justice! Jason of the Argonauts, I speak to you.

For ten years I have tried to be like you. I became your wife, the mother of your children, your shield against a world that would have destroyed you long ago. Ever since the first day when the Argo landed on the shores of Colchis have I tried to please you in every way that I can. But now I have been cast aside by the one that I called my husband, by the one whom I sacrificed everything for.

Ten years is a long time to live a lie. Was I ever a wife? Was I ever a mother? Was I even human? All the oaths that you swore to me have suddenly been forgotten now that you are about to marry another, daughter of the king.

Ten years, Jason, but tonight I shall see you destroyed! This hurt that has been done to me is bitter every time I think about my father, my city, my own brother, my own flesh murdered by my own hands. And why? For love of a man, I am told.

All is folly.

[enter KING CREON]

MEDEA:
Creon?

CREON:
Sorceress! Gorgon! I order you to take your cursed offspring and leave this city at once!

MEDEA:
But why? Why send me away?

CREON:
I have heard your maddening threats against the royal family that gave you sanctuary when no one else would! I fear for my daughter’s safety. Best be rid of you now before anything can happen.

MEDEA:
So you think that you can just take everything from me because I am a woman and alone? You think that you can cast me out to die upon the wasteland? There are many things that you cannot take, king. You cannot take my anger. But why should that bother you? It is only my husband that I hate. I mean you and your house no harm.

CREON:
The more you talk the less I trust you.

MEDEA:
You say that I must go but what about my children? Give me time to arrange for their safety and future. One day. Give me one day and then I will freely go. You will never see me again. We are both parents, after all.

CREON:
So be it. Because of the love that I have for my daughter I will give you one day. But, witch, if you are still here even a minute longer by tomorrow at daybreak I will kill you myself.

[exit]

MEDEA:
Here I stand. Human evil is on every side but I shall slaughter my enemies: the king, his daughter and my bastard husband. But how shall I do it? What form will my revenge take? Shall I burn down the royal bridal bed? Shall I slit their throats in their sleep? No. Of all my dark arts it shall be poison that shall be my comrade in this crime. I shall weave a bridal dress worthy of a virgin princess and into it pour all my malice.

[enter JASON]

JASON:
You didn’t have to get exiled, you know.

MEDEA:
Jason! Have you come here to gloat over my misfortunes? Haven’t you caused me enough grief already?

JASON:
You brought this on yourself. Your threats against the royal house guaranteed that you would be banished from the city.

MEDEA:
My threats were not against the royal house but only you; the man who is marrying into it.

JASON:
I think the king finds it hard to make such distinctions when you are vowing revenge against the whole world.

MEDEA [genuinely confused]:
Husband, why are you doing this? I saved your life time and time again! I killed my own brother for you. I have no family to go back to.

JASON:
That is hardly my concern, is it? Quit thinking about only yourself and look at this from my point of view. Creon is a most generous king. He gave me his own daughter to wed. How could I refuse?

MEDEA:
I do not say this for my own benefit but for our children, your sons. I will happily leave them with you if Creon wills it.

JASON:
Your sudden motherly concern is touching. I have never seen you care this much about anything.

MEDEA:
Why would you say that? I gave birth to them and now I am being sent out into the wilderness with nothing to guarantee my own safety, never mind theirs. They are your sons. Will you see to their well-being?

JASON:
I’m not sure if the king can be swayed. He does see you as bad blood, after all.

MEDEA:
Please, take them with you. Perhaps your new wife will love them as much as I have. Perhaps she will guarantee their safety.

JASON:
I suppose that I will take them with me. Let it never be said that Jason left his own sons with someone with so few womanly sympathies.

MEDEA:
Thank you. Please, take this robe as a sign of good faith between us. It is a beautiful garment for a beautiful lady.

JASON:
Indeed! This is a handsome gift. The king and my bride shall be delighted.

[exit]

MEDEA:
And so it begins!

[enter the CHORUS with MEDEA’S TWO SONS]

CHORUS:
Death! Disaster! Chaos!
The House of Creon
has fallen! We watched
in horror as it fell! Jason,
Creon’s son-in-law,
brought your sons
before the old king.

He brought the robes
that you had woven as gifts.
Never have we seen
craftsmanship so fine.

The loom must have been enchanted.
The young princess was so overcome
by the dress that she immediately put it on.

The king ordered a mirror
to be brought in so that
his daughter might admire
herself. What we saw
instead will haunt us
to the end of our days.

The princess screamed as bewitching fire
suddenly consumed her. Her entire body exploded
like a torch dipped in tar. The king ran to her side
and tried to put out the fire with his own hands
and in doing so the green hell-fire spread to him

as well. Father and daughter
writhed on the floor,
their eyes twisted

in their sockets, and so hot
were the flames that no
mortal assistance
could be offered.

They lay in state now,
little more than charred
bones. Demonic mother!

We have brought
your children to you
for even an inhuman
creature as you should not
be separated from her sons.

[exit]

MEDEA [taking her sons by their hands]:
Come now, wretched darlings. You shall be my final revenge against your father. I am constantly being told that I am not like all the other miserable mortals who pass by me every day. They say that I am not a fit mother, not a fit wife, not even human. So be it. If I am not human then how can I be judged by this act that I am about to commit?

[kills her children]

Cry, Jason of the Argonauts! You are undone. Your house falls! Your future perishes! Your sons are murdered by their own mother’s hand!

[summons up a fiery chariot pulled by two dragons]

Medea is no more! Let no mother name her daughter after me! Let no prattling fools talk of my sins or crimes! Let none ever call me human again. Medea the Witch! Medea the Bloody! I am the daughter of King Aeetes of Colchis, niece to the goddess Circe, granddaughter of the sun god Helios. I return to the land of nightmares, for nightmares are all that you can see in me.

[exit]

the lover and the concubine

13 Tuesday May 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in drama

≈ Comments Off on the lover and the concubine

Tags

drama, ghost lover, Humor, play, The Lover and The Concubine, xenomorph

another one-act play with many working parts …

][][

CHARACTERS:
THE LOVER: Possibly the Norse goddess Frigg, or perhaps simply Icelandic. She is somewhere in her late 40s to 50s. In a cruder, ruder time she would be considered a MILF, a Yummy Mummy, a Cougar; however those terms with all their baggage gets defined. Today she considers herself to be what healthy female eroticism looks like in a world that does not value either; though she is far from being healthy and rarely knows who or what, exactly, she is.

THE CONCUBINE: Senegalese, or perhaps Moroccan. A fey tomboy in her late teens. She is bewitched, besotted and bemused to find herself the object of lust to such an older, mad woman. She is at that age where, having her hormones run wild within her, she is discovering her moody, sassy side, a force of nature that she cannot always control.

THE EMPTY WINE-JAR VIRGIN: Nervy, pervy and with curves, she walks the earth with an empty old-fashion clay wine-jar (what the Romans would call an amphora) balanced upon her head for highly complicated personal reasons. In another time and place she would be one of the physical embodiments of the Yoruba lwa, MAMI WATA, a mermaid-like goddess who controls love, intimacy and fresh water. Unfortunately for her this is neither that time nor place.

HELEN KANE: (1904 – 1966) A popular American jazz singer in her day; her signature song was “I Wanna Be Loved By You.” Kane’s voice and appearance were a likely source for Fleischer Studio’s character, Betty Boop, although It-girl Clara Bow has also been credited as another possible influence.

THE CHORUS: Just as in the theater of ancient Greece, the Chorus is a group of performers full of gravitas and panache who comment with a collective voice upon the dramatic action going on. There are four female members to this one; all looking as identical as possible, wearing black clothing, white kid gloves and long fright-wigs of white hair. They appear as ghosts since none of the other characters can see, hear or interact with them. They all speak with over-wrought heavy brogues, and while their words and actions can be, at times, absurd, they present everything they do with a deadly seriousness, as if they really were in a classical Greek tragedy, which this, of course, is not.

][][

Setting:
A bathroom in an old Victorian-type sanitarium, perhaps set up in the 1800s to address ‘hysterical paroxysm’ in the female of the species. The stage consists of a line of shower-stalls, the sort that are nothing more than funny little privacy curtains that start around the shoulders and end at the knees, each with an old-fashion shower head dangling down above the stall. If it was the sort of bathroom to be haunted it would possess a waif-like melancholic Ophelia, hair in a shower-cap, complaining of her wandering womb trying to seek its proper place. Everything feels slightly dank and out of focus. The unnerving sound of water dripping on cracked tile off-stage is combined with the distant moan of endless wind. There is a row of clothing pegs on one wall with one cotton robe hanging on it. Nearby is a towel rack with a single towel. The set should be built on simple, wheeled elevated rises, in such a way as to be easily rolled off-stage with minimum fuss.

][][

Presently there is only one person using the showers, THE LOVER, naked, standing under the hot water, singing snatches of ‘Me and the Man in the Moon’ to herself. Since running an actual shower is highly difficult to stage (not to mention a waste of good water) when the actresses are in their respective shower-stalls they simply pantomime the act of washing.

THE CONCUBINE enters, wrapped in a large robe with her towel around her shoulders, unaware anyone else is using the bathroom.

THE CONCUBINE [startled, shy]:
Oh, I beg your pardon!

THE LOVER [turning around, wiping soap from her eyes]:
Hello, you needn’t. There’s enough hot water for everyone. Just [she lowers her voice conspiratorially] don’t tell anyone I’m here.

THE CONCUBINE [still smiling shyly, walks over to the towel rack, placing her towel next to the other]:
What do you mean?

THE LOVER:
I’m supposed to be seeing Doctor Bentorgan for my headaches, emotional instability, gloom, aggression, depression and feelings of lower abdominal heaviness, but I told Nurse Quim that I was feeling a bit overexcited and snuck away to the showers as soon as her back was turned. I’ve always found hot water is a great cure for it.

THE CONCUBINE [taking off her robe, hanging it on the peg next to the other one and then walking naked to the shower stall next to THE LOVER]:
It?

THE LOVER [giggling]:
You know, ‘it’!

THE CONCUBINE:
Um, no, actually. I’ve only just arrived last week. How long have you been here?

THE LOVER:
Years, darling. Years. I understand just how the Suffragettes must have felt. At first I hated being here. It was so old and dour and dead that I felt as if I were dead myself. I wanted to open my parasol and fly through the window.

THE CONCUBINE:
Well, why didn’t you leave?

THE LOVER:
‘Landica Therapeutically Massage,’ every hour, by the hour.

THE CONCUBINE:
What?

The lights suddenly go down and all action stops. A single spotlight illuminates and then follows THE EMPTY WINE-JAR VIRGIN as she slowly makes her way to the center of the stage, balancing her jar on her head.

EMPTY WINE-JAR VIRGIN [monologue]:
Did you know that the Oxford English Dictionary states that the word clitoris likely has its origin in the Ancient Greek κλειτορίς (kleitoris), and is, perhaps derived from the verb κλείειν (kleiein), meaning ‘to shut’? It also states that the shortened, psychosonic form, ‘clit,’ has been used in print since 1858; however, until then, the common abbreviation was ‘clitty,’ like klitty kat. Clitoris is also Greek for the word key, indicating that the ancient anatomists considered it to be the key to female sexuality. In addition to key, the Armenian Etymology Dictionary suggests other Greek candidates for the word’s etymology include a noun meaning ‘latch’ or ‘hook,’ a verb meaning ‘to touch or titillate lasciviously,’ as well as, ‘to tickle.’ Indeed, one German synonym for the clitoris is der Kitzler, ‘the tickler.’ In ancient Rome, Soranus of Ephesus wrote that while the Latin word clitoris is derived from the verb ‘to climb the side of a hill,’ it really shares the same root as the verb for ‘roaring flood climaxing over its riverbank.’

FX: Loud applause. THE EMPTY WINE-JAR VIRGIN does her best curtsey, jar still balanced, and leaves. Lights go up and action continues, as if nothing had happened.

THE LOVER:
You’re new here so you haven’t started your ‘treatments’ yet, but believe, me once you do you’ll never want to leave either.

THE CONCUBINE [frowning]:
And that’s ‘it’?

THE LOVER:
Yes. Well, that and the gamahooching.

THE CONCUBINE:
But isn’t that a sin?

THE LOVER [cheerfully reciting from memory a bad translation of the ‘Song of Solomon,’ 5:4-5]:
My beloved puts his hand into the hole by the door, and my cup of myrrh overflows for him. I arise to open myself before my beloved, for my hands drip with wet myrrh, my fingers are sticky with myrrh, each time I touch the handle of his bolt.

THE CONCUBINE [confused]:
Er, if you say so.

Long pause.

THE CONCUBINE:
So, what does your husband think of you being here?

THE LOVER:
Husband?

THE CONCUBINE:
You know … [gestures vaguely] … a man.

THE LOVER:
Oh, one of those. Yeah … no. How about you?

THE CONCUBINE:
Mr. G was nice in the beginning. He liked taking photos of me kissing other girls. He said he only wanted the best for me.

THE LOVER:
Ah, yes. And this Mr. G, has he visited you since you arrived?

THE CONCUBINE:
No.

THE LOVER [cheerfully changing the subject]:
Have you heard the story of the nun who used to live here?

THE CONCUBINE:
No. Why?

THE LOVER:
It’s quite romantic and sad.

THE CONCUBINE:
I heard a voice that called across the wind last night while I was in bed.

THE LOVER glances at THE CONCUBINE curiously. The older woman is now smiling, as if some unknown power were compelling her to do something very rash and perhaps a tad naughty.

THE LOVER [seriously]:
So … I see that you see that this old place is haunted, too.

THE CONCUBINE [unsure how to respond]:
I … felt something. What was it?

THE LOVER [overdramatizing, as if she were performing at the Chichester Festival]:
Ack! Alas! The dead! A holy saint’s soul estranged upon the air. A nun who cannot find her way to Paradise. What did she say?

THE CONCUBINE [backing a couple of small, wary steps away]:
She said: ’I was a coward; you must be bold. I was silent; you must speak as of old.’

THE LOVER [back to her normal mischievously voice]:
You mustn’t believe everything that ghosts tell you.

THE CONCUBINE:
I wish you wouldn’t talk like this. It unnerves me.

THE LOVER:
That’s the whole point, darling. When I was a wee girl I lived in Skibbereen during ‘an Gorta Mór.’ Back then the famine left not a soul standing — not one. Even the Sister Charlotte-Evie-Eve, who told me that the church’s gargoyles would speak to her, died and was buried at the Famine Burial Pits at Abbeystrowery.

THE CONCUBINE:
My! That is terrible, I am so sorry. Er, the famine you say? Wait. When was this?

THE LOVER [again cheerfully changing the subject]:
Do you have any extra soap? I seem to have used all mine up.

THE CONCUBINE:
Certainly. O! [goes to hand her bar over the shower stall, but it slips out of her hands, landing at the feet of THE LOVER] I am so sorry, it slipped.

THE LOVER [crouches on hands and knees, scratches a kneecap]:
Never apologize unless it’s serious, like running someone over with a lorry or accidently impaling them on rusty farm equipment. [slyly raises the bottom of the shower curtain that separates the two stalls, peering hungrily at THE CONCUBINE] My! What a lovely fat arse you have, my dear.

THE CONCUBINE [turns around, sees THE LOVER peering up at her, squeals in the exact same manner as those bizarre 1950s housewife stereotypes; standing on a chair and freaking-out over a mouse]:
Please, madam!

THE LOVER:
Madam?

THE CONCUBINE:
Missus?

THE LOVER:
Missus?

THE CONCUBINE:
Well, I don’t know your name.

THE LOVER:
Funny, I never told you.

There is another awkward pause.

THE CONCUBINE:
Well, regardless, please don’t peer at me that way, I feel self-conscious.

THE LOVER [suddenly standing extremely close to THE CONCUBINE with only the shower curtain between them]:
I don’t know why you’d say that. I’m naked. You’re naked. We’re alone and nobody is going to bother us.

THE CONCUBINE:
Are … are you trying to flirt with me?

THE LOVER:
I’m doing more than ‘trying.’

THE CONCUBINE:
But it’s wicked!

THE LOVER [in her best Mae West voice]:
‘Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before.’ But for you I’ll go back over tried and true grounds anyday.

THE CONCUBINE:
Do you do this often?

THE LOVER:
’I’ll try anything once, twice if I like it, three times to make sure.’

THE CONCUBINE:
This is all so confusing. I don’t understand what, exactly, is happening.

THE LOVER [reaching over and playing with THE CONCUBINE’S hair]:
Well, last night a ghost sang to you outside your window and now you’re taking a shower with me. Later I’ll show you all about gamahooching and Landica Therapeutically Massage. Seems rather straight forward, actually.

THE CONCUBINE:
Please! You simply mustn’t! It’s disgraceful!

THE LOVER:
What’s disgraceful?

THE CONCUBINE [confused]:
Whatever it was that you were going to suggest.

THE LOVER:
Actually, I’ve already suggested it. What is there disgraceful about that? It always feels fantastic!

THE CONCUBINE:
It’s wrong.

THE LOVER:
It’s inevitable.

THE CONCUBINE:
Why inevitable? Why can’t you talk with a naked girl in a bathroom for half an hour without falling in love with her?

THE LOVER:
I didn’t say anything about love.

THE CONCUBINE [surprised and more than a touch disappointed]:
Oh? You didn’t?

THE LOVER:
Would you like me to? I can try it out, hold on. [doing her best QUEEN MAB] ’Love is a tryst/ between two naked girls/ who cum when kissed.’ Like it? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I was destined to love you.

THE CONCUBINE:
I didn’t say that! I have nothing to say about your lurid suggestions except that I … I’ve nothing to say … except … that I … well [almost inaudibly] have some suggestions, too.

THE LOVER [triumphantly]:
Suggestions? Calculations? Arithmetic? You love me!

THE CONCUBINE [flustered]:
I … I don’t know. No. Yes. Perhaps.

THE LOVER:
Then kiss me!

THE CONCUBINE [suspiciously]:
No!

THE LOVER:
Then I’ll kiss you!

THE CONCUBINE [wretchedly]:
Oh, what’s the use?

THE LOVER:
I don’t know. It’ll feel good? I don’t care. I only know that we love each other.

THE CONCUBINE [after a moment’s hesitation, desperately]:
You’re right! I don’t care, either! I do want to kiss you, too. Come here, you pervy ghost nun!

Before they can kiss, however, all the sound effects of dripping water and the running showers and the moaning wind are suddenly cut off. House lights flash three times, as they do during intermission to let audiences know it is time to return to their seats. Startled, the two women look wildly about as THE CHORUS rush out on stage and begin to unlock and release the wheels on the risers of the shower set. Within moments the whole set, with THE LOVER and THE CONCUBINE included, has been wheeled off-stage. The stage is now bare, as stages always are without anything on them.

CHORUS #1 reenters and places a large cardboard box stage-left. Written on the box’s side are the words, “Galway Puke Shooter/ This Side Up.” After arranging the box just so she sits down upstage. CHORUS #2 enters, carrying the LYSSK and TS’SSK costumes and a chair (this a reference to the play SAVAGE. The costumes consist of green reptilian body-suits and strange, oblong masks that cover the actress’s entire head save for the lips and mouth. It is suspiciously reminiscent of the bug-like xenomorphs from the Alien franchise). She places chair stage right, draping both costumes across it, then joins CHORUS #1 on the floor. CHORUS #3 enters with a large basket full of black and white poppies in it. The basket has straps on it, allowing someone to carry it on their back. CHORUS #3 takes her place next to the others. CHORUS #4 enters with four ukuleles, hands one to each member and then takes her place. There is an expectant pause. HELEN KANE walks on stage [FX: huge audience applause] She gives her trademark Betty Boop curtsy and begins to lip-sync to a recorded version of Me and the Man in the Moon. As of this writing (2014) the music and lyrics are in the public domain and thus a recording that can be found at:

[www.archive.org/details/HelenKaneCollection]

However, if copyright laws change please see the [Notes] section for the ukulele chords so that the song can be performed as a stage-performance. In either case, as soon as the music starts the four CHORUS members sternly strum along upon their ukuleles in the background.

HELEN KANE [singing]:
Why did my sweetie leave me?
Why did we have to part?
You know, no sweetie will relieve me
of this aching heart.

Why can’t I have the sunshine?
The sunshine instead of the gloom?
Why must I have these little shadows
creeping in my room?

When the night is dark and peaceful
loving hearts are all in tune
there’s two lonesome people in the whole wide world;
it’s me and the man in the moon

When the little birds are nesting
and I listen to them croon
there’s two lonesome people in the whole wide world;
it’s me and the man in the moon

While I lie there counting sheep
through my window he comes to peep
and with each other we’re sympathizing!

Oh, I’m looking at those happy people
while they sit around and spoon
there’s two lonesome people in the whole wide world;
it’s me and the man in the moon

O, but if my sweetie keeps me waiting
you know what I’m going to do? I’ll get another sweetie, soon
because there’s two lonesome people in the whole wide world;
it’s me and the man in the moon

O, how I miss his ukulele
and the way he strums those tunes
‘cause there’s two lonesome people in the whole wide world
it’s me and the man in the moon

When the creepy shadows fall
and the boogie man comes to call
I need two lovable arms around me!

You know, and if my sweetie keeps me waiting
you know what I’m gonna do?
I’m gonna get myself a big balloon, a big one
and I’ll travel through the air in that big balloon and have a love affair
with the man in the moon!

FX: Huge audience applause that last several minutes longer than anyone is expecting, rising and falling in intensity, finally fading out as THE CHORUS begins to speak their lines.

HELEN KANE does another curtsy and then with a big flourish of arms ushers THE LOVER and THE CONCUBINE back in. They are still completely naked, holding hands, totally unselfconscious. They take a bow as if they had just performed some wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey version of Othello at the Old Vic. As the couple stands, center stage, grinning and waving, HELEN KANE picks up the cardboard box and begins to strew drug paraphernalia all over: crack phials, ampoules, needles, bloody balls of toilet paper, etc. as well as used condoms and a knit skull cap. Then she and THE CHORUS hastily exit off-stage. CHORUS #1 returns, carrying two bib overalls, which she tosses haphazardly about, then returns to her original spot on the floor. CHORUS #2 drags out a soiled mattress which she places downstage. CHORUS #3 brings out an acoustic guitar, which she places upon the mattress and CHORUS #4 unfolds a large poster that she attaches to the wall with the spray-painted words: “Never Trust a Junkie” (from Sid and Nancy, 1986) on them. Lights dim. Suddenly the stage has become a Galway tenement flat, a heroin shooting gallery.

When each member of THE CHORUS speaks often their words can be almost unintelligible to one not familiar with regional dialects. This was done intentionally because everyone keeps saying that they love difficult drama. At no time should they break character, wink at the audience, or play what they say for laughs.

CHORUS #1 [vaguely Galway-ish]:
Luk at our bottle av water, our Lady’s beloved, de sun’s pride!
[Look at our daughter, our Lady’s beloved, the Sun’s pride!]

CHORUS #2 [vaguely Liverpool-ish]:
She ‘as na loved anyone ‘alf as much as she loves ‘er.
[She has never loved anyone half as much as she loves her.]

CHORUS #1:
So’tiz a shame dat she is so young.
[It is a shame that she is so young]

CHORUS #2:
Perhaps she wul grrer?
[Perhaps she will grow?]

CHORUS #3 [vaguely Newcastle-ish]:
Whey aye she will gra.
[Of course she will grow.]

CHORUS #4 [vaguely Inverness‎ -ish]:
Ah min’ when ‘er first ‘urls, ‘er first ‘ubes, appeared.
[I remember when her first curls, her first pubes, appeared.]

CHORUS [giggling together]:
Pubes!

As THE LOVER begins to speak, THE CONCUBINE turns and starts to dress in one of the discarded bib overalls, donning the knit skull cap, picking up the guitar and flopping down on the mattress. She is now THE JUNKIE GUITARIST.

THE LOVER [reciting from Shakespeare’s Venus and Adonis]:
‘Fondling,’ she says, ‘since I have hymned you here
Within the circuit of this ivory pale,
I’ll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer;
Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale:
Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry,
Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.

Within this limit is relief enough,
Sweet bottom-grass and high delightful plain,
Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure and rough,
To shelter thee from tempest and from rain
Then be my deer, since I am such a park.

CHORUS #3:
Wor lady knows wot she likes.
[Our Lady knows what she likes.]

CHORUS #4:
Some say she loch tay much.
[Some say she like too much.]

CHORUS #2:
Wa’ does dat evun arl bottle and glass? She is flushed flesh like everyone else. ‘Er lover’s absence ‘as nted all sorts o’ fear in ‘er brezzy. Bright, not ‘er brezzy. ‘Er nights ‘uv beun chocker o’ sticky thoughts while terss’n and tn’n in ‘er empty flock.
[What does that even mean? She is flushed flesh like everyone else. Her lover’s absence has nurtured all sorts of fear in her breast. Well, not her breast. Her nights have been full of sticky thoughts while tossing and turning in her empty bed.]

CHORUS #3:
Wot? But the Sun’s pride is back. Wot is thor tuh feor?
[What? But the Sun’s pride is back. What is there to fear?]

CHORUS #4:
Fear.
[Fear.]

Once THE LOVER has finished the poem the JUNKIE GUITARIST begins to strums and recite parts of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 151 while the older woman slips into her own pair of worn-out overalls.

JUNKIE GUITARIST:
My soul doth tell my body that he may
triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason …

But rising at thy name doth point out thee,
as his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride …

He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
to stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side …

No want of conscience hold it that I call
her love, for whose dear love I rise and fall.

CHORUS #1:
Oi liked it better whaen they were in da nip.
[I liked it better when they were naked.]

CHORUS #3:
Yee elwis sa that.
[You always say that.]

CHORUS #2:
Why not? We’ve seun ‘Ercules chained in ‘Ades. Us berd and ‘er lover ay far lovelier than dat fill-swell beast.
[Why not? We’ve seen Hercules chained in Hades. Our Lady and her lover are far lovelier than that foul beast.]

CHORUS [giggling together]:
Beast!

THE LOVER bends down and straps the basket of poppies to her back. She is now the DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER. She goes over to the JUNKIE GUITARIST, prods her with her foot until she gets up off the mattress and goes over to an imaginary window. She raises it and suddenly the sound of desolate inner-city traffic fills the air. The DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER slumps onto the mattress with a sigh.

DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER [fanning herself with a hand]:
I could never stand all this junkie-chic, Bodenheim crap. Let the trust-fund hippies do what they want. Come over here.

JUNKIE GUITARIST [looking around]:
What do you want?

CHORUS #2:
Dun rabbit ter us Berd dat way!
[Don’t talk to our Lady that way!]

CHORUS #3:
Teenage cunnies an’ their hearts gan be see fickle.
[Teenage girls and their hearts can be so fickle.]

CHORUS #1:
Don’t tell me ‘ee is still burnin’ for dat ‘offin-stuffer Giovanni?
[Don’t tell me she is still burning for that coffin-stuffer Giovanni?]

DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER:
Darling, it’s no use hanging out the window like that, you could fall.

JUNKIE GUITARIST:
I’ll fall if I want to.

CHORUS #1:
Bah! Fickle!
[Bah! Fickle!]

CHORUS #2:
Inconsistent
[Inconsistent!]

CHORUS #3:
Capricious!
[Capricious!]

CHORUS #4:
Unpredictable love!
[Unpredictable love!]

DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER:
You know, dear, that he’s not coming.

JUNKIE GUITARIST [irked]:
So you say.

DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER:
Sig, hye and hail. You’re just wasting time, child of mine.

CHORUS #3:
Heor wot she says!
[Hear what she says!]

JUNKIE GUITARIST:
Time? Time is all I’ve got.

DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER [opens her legs and hinting]:
You could be between my thighs.

CHORUS #3:
Wor Lady knows wot she likes.
[Our Lady knows what she likes.]

CHORUS #4:
Yoo’re repeatin’ yerself.
[You’re repeating yourself.]

JUNKIE GUITARIST:
Not that old thing!

DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER:
Oy! Ganymede! Behave!

JUNKIE GUITARIST:
He said he’d be back before noon.

DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER:
Noon is a little too soon. [Chuckles at her own rhyme, all of THE CHORUS joins in then quickly stops, highly embarrassed] You think moping around the room is going to hurry him up any quicker?

JUNKIE GUITARIST:
No. Not ‘quicker’ …

CHORUS #1:
Giovanni is a complete langer, me Sun’s pride, an’ yer are neglectin’ de wan who truly loves yer.
[Giovanni is a terrible person, my Sun’s pride, and you are neglecting the one who truly loves you]

DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER:
Then if you’re not going to play with me, play me something quaint upon that girlish axe that you’ve got clutched in both hands. Humor me with a rude cut.

CHORUS #2:
Spell it out fe ‘er!
[Spell it out for her!]

CHORUS #3:
But Raimbo cannit reed.
[But Rambo can’t read.]

JUNKIE GUITARIST:
Cut?

CHORUS #4:
Mebbe she can hum puckle lines?
[Maybe she can hum a few lines?]

DEATH-HEAD POPPY PEDDLER:
Notes, strings, you know, whatever. I want a jingle-jangle full of major C’s, U’s and T’s.

CHORUS #1:
Pucker up an’ blow, lassy!
[Pucker up and blow, girl!]

JUNKIE GUITARIST [staring out the window, half to herself]:
I once knew the sort of snatches that you’re talking about. I could spit out the meanest of slit-roses, but an axe-limbed girl whisked the tune past me. Hey, maybe you’ve seen her, my mamacita with the baby-wide hips? [PAUSE] I sat on a rock in the midst of a heart-scrubbed stream and smiled at her while fingering my young dumb soul. I climbed a ghost-tree and plucked [STRUMMING} “silver apples of the moon/ golden apples of the sun.” I stumbled after her, over the sun-stunned hills, since the axe-limbered girl would often stop; she’d touch both of my eyes with the flesh of her flower and then sprung away. It was like a dream of a queenly crow cast among mourning doves and fools, a little scattered popcorn upon a penthouse floor, all in blues with neon light and a bubbling pool, gurgle; and I, heavy with leprous distilment and junk-flop sweat, followed. Through high corridors and leaking roofs I went, to you, the biggest of big ass women, towering over me like a wisp of Missy Missile Madam’s soul. But the music is gone. Where is my wealthy tune? Where is my flushed tool? My amethyst flood? My silver clouds? My golden rain?

Pause. The JUNKIE GUITARIST attempts to play a “Me and the Man in the Moon” riff. She becomes frustrated at her poor skills, lays the guitar down.

CHORUS #4:
She pure shoods practice mair.
[She really should practice more.]

CHORUS #2:
Dee can’t ‘ear us, tinnie dee?
[They can’t hear us, can they?]

The JUNKIE GUITARIST goes over to the chair and picks up one of the Xenomorph costumes, holds it up to examine it better. Picks up the oblong, skull mask, turning it this way and that with great fascination. She has no idea what it is.

JUNKIE GUITARIST:
Where did this come from?

CHORUS #1:
Isn’t dat from a scene —
[Isn’t that from a scene –]

CHORUS #2:
— dat got cut in de final edit?
[– that got cut in the final edit?]

CHORUS #3:
Why did wuh brin those wi’ wor?
[Why did we bring those with us?]

CHORUS #4:
Stage directions.
[Stage directions.]

[sudden darkness. curtain]

][][

Notes:

Here are the ukulele chords for Helen Kane’s Me and the Man in the Moon:

Bb F7 Bb
Why did my sweetie leave me?
Bb F Gm
Why did we have to part?
F7 Bb A7 Ab7 G7
No other sweetie can re-lieve me
C7 F
Of this aching heart.
Bb F7 Bb
Why can’t I have the sunshine?
Bb D7 Gm
The sunshine instead of gloom?
C7 F G
Why must I have these little shadows
Gm7 Cm7 F F7
Creeping in my room?
Bb
When the night is dark and peaceful,
Bb F#
Loving hearts are all in tune,
F7 Eb F Gaug
There’s two lonesome people in the whole wide world,

C7 F7 Bb
It’s me and the man in the moon.
Bb
When the little birds are nesting,
F#
And I listen to them croon,
F7 Eb F Gaug
There are two lonesome people in the whole wide world,
C7 F7 Bb
It’s me and the man and the moon.
Gm A7
Oh While I lie there counting sheep,
D7 G7
Through my window he comes to peep,
C7 F F7 F
And with each other we’re sympa-thi-zing!
Bb
Oh, I’m looking at those happy sweethearts,
F#
While they sit around and spoon,
F7 Eb F Gaug
There’s two lonesome people in the whole wide world,
C7 F7 Bb
It’s me and the man and the moon.
Bb
Oh, but if my sweetie keeps me waiting,
F#
You know what I’m gonna do? I’ll get another sweetie, soon;
F7 Eb F Gaug
Because there’s two lonesome people in the whole wide world,
C7 F7 Bb
It’s me and the man and the moon.
Bb
Oh, how I miss his ukulele,
F#
And the way he strums those tunes,
F7 Eb F Gaug
‘Cause there’s two lonesome people in the whole wide world,
C7 F7 Bb
It’s me and the man and the moon.
Gm A7
When the creepy shadows fall,
D7 G7
And the boogie man comes to call,
C7 F F7 F
I need two lovable arms aro-o-und me!
Bb
You know, and if my sweetie keeps me waiting,
F#
You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna get myself a big balloon, a big one,
F Eb F7 Gaug
And I’ll travel through the air in that big balloon and have a love affair,
C7 F7 Bb7
With the man in the moon!

Written by: LESLIE, EDGAR/MONACO, JAMES V.
Creative Commons license: Public Domain

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