The Gate to Women's Country (6 page)

H
ECUBA
(Nodding)
She went quite mad, you know. She ran throughout the palace, up and down, dancing with Hymen's torches in her hands, whirling until she'd set fire to her hair. We threw wet blankets on her, holding her until the flame was out. Her nuptials shall light a
funeral pyre, or so she says. What else
is
there to know about Cassandra?

T
ALTHYBIUS
Agamemnon will take her home with him. She pleases him.

A
NDROMACHE
One can account so little for some things. He's pleased with her? Then he is likely pleased to taunt the Gods and court his own destruction. What will he do with her?

T
ALTHYBIUS
He will bed her, I think, madam.

A
NDROMACHE
Hell bed the virgin priestess of Athena! When he
is
done, then will he curse at Zeus and piss upon the image of Apollo? Or
is
he turned by madness that he seeks a mate most like himself…?

H
ECUBA
Shh, shh, daughter. Do not curse the Greeks who seem well able to proscribe themselves. So, Talthybius. Agamemnon will take Cassandra. What of Polyxena?

T
ALTHYBIUS
(After an uncomfortable pause)
She was assigned by lot, as were you all.

H
ECUBA
Where? To whom? What Greek takes Polyxena?

T
ALTHYBIUS
She has been assigned to serve the tomb of Achilles.

H
ECUBA
Slave to a graven tomb! How dreadful for her. She loves the lively arts, Talthybius. Dancing. Eating. To think that she must serve Achilles' tomb.

T
ALTHYBIUS
Count her as happy, Queen. Her fate frees her from troubles that still follow you….

H
ECUBA
What troubles have I? So, I'll be a slave. When thousands lie unburied on the field, when blood runs down to feed the summer trees, does slavery count for much?

T
ALTHYBIUS
YOU will be slave to Odysseus.

H
ECUBA
His ownership will be as short as my subservience, Talthybius. I am an old woman. See. My hair is white.

T
ALTHYBIUS
(Leaning down to look at her closely)
You have years yet.

H
ECUBA
(She fumbles in her skirt again, then removes her hands and clenches them in front of her, staring at them. There is a pause)
My daughter Cassandra says not.

T
ALTHYBIUS
NO one believes Cassandra. As for Andromache….

A
NDROMACHE
I'LL be a slave. I know it already. I say with my husband's mother that my slavery will be brief.

T
ALTHYBIUS
But you are young yet.

A
NDROMACHE SO
I am.

H
ECUBA
Enough, Talthybius. You have told us enough for one visit. Croak somewhere else for a time.

T
ALTHYBIUS
Queen, I cannot.

A
NDROMACHE
Oh? Do you bear some vomit yet?

H
ECUBA
Shh, shh.

T
ALTHYBIUS
Your son, Andromache….

A
NDROMACHE
DO not tell me of any wickedness which would wrest a suckling from his mother's arms. Don't tell me he'll be taken from my care to grow to manhood in some other house.

T
ALTHYBIUS
I will not tell you that.

A
NDROMACHE
He'll go with me? You would not leave him here?

T
ALTHYBIUS
(Sadly)
Here, yes. On his father's soil. In his father's place.

A
NDROMACHE
Whose words are these?

T
ALTHYBIUS
Odysseus spoke before the Achaeans, extolling Hector's glory. He said that they could ill afford to rear a hero's son lest he rise up when he is grown and venge him for his father's death.

A
NDROMACHE
They
will
leave him here? With some shepherd, some potter, some lowly family?

T
ALTHYBIUS
Here among these stones. Thrown to his death from Troy's new-riven walls. So they have said.

A
NDROMACHE
(Screams and clings to her child. Talthybius summons the guards who help him wrest the child from her. He then ascends the stair of tumbled stone, she crying after him)
I call doom upon you, Talthybius, and those who sent you here. I call doom upon their ships and on their men. I call the Furies down. Oh do not, do not. Give him to me. He is only a little child. My milk is still warm on his lips. Gods, Talthybius, they'll curse you—don't.
(She screams and weeps)

H
ECUBA
(Holding her)
Andromache. Love. Daughter. Sweet girl. Oh why didn't I, when I had the chance—
oh why didn't I? Oh here, hold on to me. How can they do this to a baby…?

(There is a cry from the top of the wall, a high, piercing sound, like a bird. They look up. Talthybius has thrown the child from the walls. The guards are all looking down. The ghostly figure of Iphigenia wanders near them….)

“I think this is my entrance coming up,” said Stavia, filling grain bowls for them. “Aren't you tired of reading, Corrig?”

“I love the sound of my own voice. Now, get ready, you're almost on.” He went on reading.

H
ECUBA
Who's that? Who walks on these walls among the warriors?

“The cry comes again,” quoted Stavia from memory, “and the ghost of Iphigenia is seen. In her arms, she carries the ghost of the child, as she descends the stair.”

A
NDROMACHE
DO warriors have no pity that they do these things? What stomachs them? Are men made up of iron? What do they use for hearts? Do they not see we are the same as they, our children like their children, and our flesh like that of women whom they left behind?

I
PHIGENIA
(Crying like a seabird)
What difference would it make? They do the same to their own.

A
NDROMACHE
Who calls? Is that my child?

I
PHIGENIA
(Holding out the baby)
Your child? Or some other's child? Two children dead. One virgin girl, one suckling boy. See, here we are, wandering together.
(She dances)

H
ECUBA
(Frightened)
Who are you?

I
PHIGENIA
Agamemnon's daughter, come from Hades' realm to seek revenge on him who killed her.

H
ECUBA
Daughter of Agamemnon? The man who says he'll take Cassandra?

I
PHIGENIA
Ah well, we know the truth of that, old woman. He will not take her far nor keep her long. And you need not curse him. I've cursed him quite enough without your curses.

A
NDROMACHE
Is that my child?

I
PHIGENIA
If I am my father's child, this
is
your child. No, this is a better child to you than I to my father, for this babe does not curse you. See, he smiles.

H
ECUBA YOU
curse your father?

I
PHIGENIA
I curse him who killed me. And him who tricked my mother into letting him.

A
NDROMACHE
Give me my child.
(She reaches for him but cannot hold him)

I
PHIGENIA
He is beyond your grasp, unhappy queen. But see, he smiles again. Be glad he's come to me. He has kinfolk who walk among us ghosts. Polyxena will rock him in her arms and give him buds of asphodel to suck.

H
ECUBA
Polyxena dead! But Talthybius said she served Achilles' tomb.

I
PHIGENIA
She was slain on Achilles' tomb, if that is service.

H
ECUBA
Oh, false Talthybius, to riddle me these serpent's words. My daughter dead.

I
PHIGENIA
Her throat was slit above Achilles' corpse as mine was cut above Artemis's. They like the smell of virgin blood, these men.

H
ECUBA
They tell us that the Gods are pleased with blood.

I
PHIGENIA
Oh shhh, shhh, don't curse the Gods, old woman. It's man who puts the blood-stink in their noses and clotted gore upon their divine lips. Would you drink human blood instead of meat? Do not the Gods have cows? Don't they have cooks?

(Enter, upon the battlement, the ghost of Achilles)

A
CHILLES
I seek my servant, Polyxena!

Starid's eyes were closed as though she might be asleep.

Corrig watched her for a moment, then asked gently, “Who's going to play Achilles?”

“Joshua, I think. He has several times before.” She blinked.

“Good old Joshua.”

“Good indeed,” said Stavia. “You know, Corrig, I remember once when I was about eleven, Myra was reading
the play for me, cuing me, just the way you were….” Her voice trailed off as she thought of Myra.

Corrig didn't speak for a time. Then he asked, “Have you seen Myra lately?”