Free Penelope and Ulysses by Zenovia Page A

cutting in half of your son
    will feed and keep your madness.
    [ PENELOPE enters the room to ask what is happening .]
    AGAMEMNON: Good of you to join us, Penelope.
    Obviously you are looking for your screaming son.
    He’s out in the courtyard with my men.
    [ PENELOPE moves towards the door .]
    AGAMEMNON: Stop. If you leave this room, that boy is dead
    before you get to the courtyard.
    [ PENELOPE draws closer to ULYSSES .]
    Come, Penelope.
    Come and watch the cutting in half of your son.
    I think the black horse will do more damage.
    It seems stronger than the grey one.
    I like children.
    Actually, I love children.
    I recently lost one of my pretty ones
    and feel closer to her
    by watching the cutting in half of yours.
    Tell me, Penelope,
    is it true that your husband has tried to trick me
    by pretending that he is mad?
    Why, only a mad man would put salt in his fields,
    and only a mad man will allow
    his son to be torn limb from limb as he watches.
    The lengths to which men go
    to stay in a woman’s bed.
    Is he mad, Penelope?
    Can you confirm or deny
    either his sanity or his clever insanity?
    ULYSSES: [ having been frozen to the window that overlooks the court yard ]
    Stop! Tell them to untie my son and bring him back to his mother!
    [ AGAMEMNON looks out the window into the courtyard and orders his men to stop .]
    AGAMEMNON: Untie the boy, but leave him with you, until I finish
    speaking with Ulysses.
    ULYSSES: Leave my son and wife out of this matter.
    This is between you and me.
    AGAMEMNON: What is this I hear?
    You are not mad, Ulysses?
    You have tried to trick me?
    Shame on you, Ulysses,
    for now you have made angry.
    And you know what a damaging emotion this is for me.
    Speak to me, Ulysses.
    ULYSSES: Do not involve my son or wife in this.
    AGAMEMNON: You have involved them by hiding the truth from me.
    So how can I not involve them
    when you have refused to come with me because of them?
    You leave me no choice.
    Penelope, has your husband grown old
    and slow in his wits?
    In the old days
    he would have jumped at the chance
    to bring honour and fame to his country.
    He would have invented the war
    to gain more land and wealth.
    Now he complicates the life of his family
    and this war with a madness that he claims he has,
    and worse—this madness stinks
    of manipulation and deception!
    Shame on you, Ulysses, for trying to trick me
    with your martial cleverness.
    I think he has become this way
    because he has not been in battle.
    He has lost the purpose and direction of what a man must do.
    Rather he has been sitting here in Ithaca and rotting,
    devising a clever insanity
    so that I can declare him mad
    and leave him here to rut and fornicate.
    PENELOPE: Please spare my son’s life.
    My husband makes his own decisions
    with or without my approval.
    Let me go and get my son and give him lunch.
    AGAMEMNON: Leave him there with my men for a little while longer.
    Some of my men love young boys,
    and they have not seen one in some time.
    Penelope, my messengers tell me
    of your wit, your humour,
    your discipline, and your prowess with the sword.
    You are an accomplished woman.
    You have rights and your own ideas—
    although, at this very moment
    you look dumb and stupid,
    helpless and anxious for the safety of your son.
    Come, Penelope,
    Defend or betray your husband.
    It makes no difference to me.
    So much for your wit.
    Look at you, standing there, like a mute.
    One can be witty when she is comfortable
    and with friends.
    Now that you have a crisis, Penelope,
    you are tongueless.
    I can arrange that also!
    ULYSSES: Agamemnon, let me appeal to you,
    for all the things that we have done together,
    for all the times that we have saved each other’s lives.
    AGAMEMNON: Stop, Ulysses. I am having fun.
    Tell me, Penelope,
    is your old husband losing his senses?
    Is he going to be useless to me in Troy?
    Will he serve you better to stay in your bed?
    Let me hear your voice and wit, Penelope.
    PENELOPE: There are stages for