There's a bit of Shakespeare in all of us.

Farce in three acts

Copyright 1987, Richard R. Kennedy [Photo by MS MIC]

M a n ( ? ) T h r o u g h T h e A g e s

CAST

The Graces [children] * Adam and Eve * Ape * Serpent * Narrator * Girl Tree * Boar * Boy Plant * Girl 2 * Judy * Kong * Son of Kong * Faye * Clytaemnestra * Electra * Savages * Orestes [earlier Ira] * Theseus * Helen * Dedalus * Penelope * Tax Collector * Old Hag [old Helen] * Penelope's Children [two boys] * Robbie * Olivia Neutron * Aphrodite * Merchant [Kong] * High Priest * Mob * Ira [sentry] * Peace [old Clytaemnestra] * Naomi * War * Scores of Flower Children * Flower Children One and Two * Soldiers * Principal [Dedalus modernized] * ass't Principal [Kong modernized] * Wendy * Ivan's Woman [Helen restored] * Ivan [as a child] * Ivan [as a teenager] * Gloria [as a child] * Gloria [as a teenager] * Contented Coffee Drinkers * Naomi's Children * Erinyes [teenagers]

Prologue

NARRATOR: [Spiffy young lady dressed in a pinstripe suit walks onto proscenium] The cast of struggling novitiates in the theater arts, cautiously presents this ordinary farce with the hope that you, the courageous audience, will endure the execution—please, by all means, excuse the crude pun—of this foolhardy attempt, with total disregard for accurate time frames, to misinterpret man throughout our ridiculous history and legends. As you can see from the television cameras stationed about you, the world awaits our venture to assess man's development so they can at last arrive at nervous self-identity. Since we are being televised, naturally the performance will be rudely interrupted by uplifting commercials in which we all curiously, inadvertently and devoutly believe. Furthermore--this is mainly for the critic, since the audience has learned to adjust to life's impure bombardments—these mercantile respites relieve us from the heavy undertones of unaccustomed truth. [A stage hand runs out with a long print-out and hands it to her; she sits down on a chair, crosses her legs and proceeds to read the long paper, quickly running it through her hands from beginning to end. She rises trailing the paper along the floor and returns proscenium center.] Apparently, the world is indeed watching: our switch-boards backstage are jammed already by the women's movement —it appears that the title of our play has been changed to "Person's Through The Ages". [She rolls up the paper and prepares to leave.] Have no fear, however, that this will change the theme, merely its sex. Sit back, try to relax and may you have edifying catnaps when the author gets intolerably heavy-handed. [Black director in striped tank shirt meets her halfway and hands her a bongo drum on which a message is clearly written; she holds it up to the audience] Can all of you read this? Well, it appears that the director—the gentleman who just put in a rare appearance—informs me that the play is to now be titled simply "Soul"—or lack of it? [She exits, pounding drum, which is then overlaid with louder drums back stage.]

[Traveler opens; b.s. light on picture of earth from space; dark stage, on center, blue spotlight up gradually on three very little girls, The Graces—no older than six—sitting back to back, knees up, arms on back of thighs, foreheads on knees, arms slowly extend upward, heads are raised while chanting]

The Graces: This lonely ball propelled, rebounded and spun crazily on the billiard table of space from one cued explosion to the next until the cue-player mercifully did pause to drink, spilling cool water on the overheated ball, whence little more than chance embodied us [they gracefully point to themselves] to play out its endless game. [they rise, remaining back to back, whirling toward exit, eurhythmically chanting] Game perhaps is not the name for life with serious strife though mercifully with jest 'tis blest. [exit]

GREEN LIGHTS UP; RED LIGHT ON APPLE TREE IN BLOSSOM, STAGE CENTER; ANOTHER TREE UPSTAGE WITH A BANANA HANGING FROM IT; DRUMS INCREASE; JUNGLE SOUND EFFECTS INTERMIX

[Ape, of course, bowlegged, back bent, arms dragging, looking askance at audience then raises head as though viewing the stars; he looks over at tree center and scratches head; then he eyes banana upstage, jumps excitedly, bounces over to it and plucks it. He stares at it curiously as he drags himself downstage next to apple tree. He is about to swallow it whole, when a lovely hand reaches out from the apple tree beside him, taking the banana and then a second hand is extended and the banana is gracefully peeled. The ape in the meantime is distraught, jumping about like a spoiled brat, beating his breast, rubbing his head. An arm is extended, with pinky out the hand presents the peeled down banana to him. The ape takes it, examining its inner fruit, dumbfounded. He takes a bite and is ecstatic, jumping to stage left. Spotlight comes up on hands that are doing some kind of exotic, interpretive, rhythmic gestures to the drums. The narrator comes out with a plastic bottle of sorts and majestically draws the audience attention to the graceful, slender hands]

NARRATOR: Now, pray, who wouldn't want lovely hands like that? Of course, you men would look ridiculous, but you would certainly want hands like that caressing you! Thus, I solicit the ladies in the audience. [Holds up bottle as hands continue "dancing".]This extraordinary, new, new, new product of the Jerkins Lotion Family of Smooth Hands Care, appeals to your conscience that it is your moral obligation to run out at intermission and purchase —stands are located in the lobby for your convenience—this new, new, new version, their most recent of perennially recent formulae for smooth hand health insurance. The Jerkins coupon you received with your admissions ticket, will, of course, not be honored at the lobby stands, unless you remain after midnight; for you'll note this more than generous discount does not take effect till tomorrow. Do not dishearten, however, for the dear persons at our counters are instructed to give you a free bottle—yes, you heard right—for every twelve that you purchase tonight. This would guarantee you a full year of the very best—my heavens, the only hand health insurance available—for the entire year. Can you imagine having smooth, delicate, beautiful hands like that [points to dancing hands] thanks to the superlative research and development of the Jerkins Family. I must ask you—and I know how difficult a request this—please out of integrity for the arts that you remain in your seats until intermission. I assure you there is an ample supply of this most, most recent of recent formulae so that you may tonight indeed—and this is for you, gentlemen, as well—be caressive as you have never been before. [She opens bottle, smears some of the contents in back of her hand, slips bottle into pocket and with the other gently, suggestively rubs in formula. Then smells her hand.] "Ah, such fragrance, such health!" [She exits.]

[Serpent enters opposite side of proscenium and holds up a slimy claw]

SERP: I too have an oily hand in the making of a world that slips from its original, naive design to the inevitable of reality of the rankest practicability, wherein life is beset by the busy hand of fate engaged in farcical deceit. [leaves, rubbing claws and laughing villainously. Having finished its banana, the ape holds up the dangling peel, then shoves it in his mouth and goes back upstage and searches tree for more. Disappointed he returns to the tree at STAGE CENTER and starts to circle it, scratching his head, dancing clumsily. He pulls a leaf from the tree; chomps on it and finds it delectable. Reaches for another. Tree comes to life in form of lovely girl.]

GIRLTREE: Hey, you big ape, watch the merchandise. [Startled, the ape recoils, facing audience and scratching its pinhead. He returns to tree and yanks her ankle. She reacts by kicking him in the knee. He responds with "Ooh, ooh." She stands erect, feet apart, defiant, hands on trunk hips. Ape starts roaring and beating his breast.] Aw, shut up already!...what are you getting all uptight about? Stop trying the impossible before your time—thinking. Chlorophyll, oxygen, water— that's all—no big deal. A big ape like you needs his protein.

APE: Uh, uh, uh. Ooh, ooh, m, m, m. [Beats breast, pulls her ankle, gets kicked again.]

GT: Now, cut that out. Go find one of those newly appointed kings—I believe their called lions—or a nice juicy hippopotamus to chew on— something with meat—I'm on a diet. Besides you've got to be prepared for your carnivorous destiny. You know, it's pretty ridiculous with all those teeth to be chewing on fruits and leaves when you can be sinking them into something worthwhile —ever hear of McDonald's?...Hm,...I'm getting ahead of myself here. Moreover, you should use those teeth for other finer things like shaping a language- -it's ridiculous the way you slur your grunts. Are you really that stupid, you big ape, that you have no idea—not even a remote instinct as to what's in store for you? Why you're the chosen one is beyond me—I mean is it really necessary to think on your two feet? Shouldn't a spider or an octopus think even better?...if you follow the logic. But when I think of the great laws to be written, the philosophies dissertated, the sciences uncovered, the poetry and music—well, except for one development in music—I find it incomprehensible that the likes of you will have been in your small way responsible. Still, I have to give you credit for standing on your own two feet; but then again the whale had the smarter idea—why bother?—when you can float. I suppose though in the so-called order of things you're ahead of the rest.

APE: Ah, precisely!—that's why I don't bother to waste the language as you seem to be doing because I am ahead of my time. Got a few million years yet, you know.

GT: My, my, you can talk, but you don't—how wonderful. If only you could carry that through till the so-called consummation, maybe we'll evade that nasty business of politics. [Ape yanks another leaf from her.] Now, see here, Ape, you have a responsibility to maintain ecological balance. You can't go around pulling up every root and plant around here. Save that brutality for your descendants. [Wild boar enters snorting and oinking.] Why don't you go catch that obnoxious thing over there and throw it in a fire. It needs to be spitted to get rid of its sweat. That's the forerunner of the high school sweat-hog, you know. If you develop taste for it perhaps you could make it extinct and obviate the nuisance of a later age. Ooh, don't let it come near me! Kill it...the horrible creature.

APE: Aw, hogwash, it's just a harmless little creature...a living thing...I couldn't hurt it.

GT: What do you think you're doing to me? Am I not alive? Don't you think I feel pain when my limbs are picked at,...broken off? Oh, how would a dumb thing like you know....Were you ever trampled by a dinosaur?...well, obviously not—kicked in the head, perhaps. In any event I am not made of plastic, so for my sake go kill it and learn of other menus.

APE: Still,...I don't know... [scratches head] what if it should bite back?

GT: Use cunning...that's what you're destined to learn, anyway. Sneak up on it. Use my ancestor over there. [points to decayed log; looks skyward] May my lord Pan, forgive me. Hit it over the head—it's more humane that way.

APE: What's humane?

GT: [Scratches her tree-top] Well,...it's like apish but with a little science. Now, go over there and take a giant step for mankind... uh, personkind. The sooner you do it the better off I'll be for the next million years or so....Heaven help my descendants, though, when the axe is invented... oh, and that dreadful chain-saw! [Ape takes a step toward the oink] That's it...surely not a giant step, but you're getting there. Now be cunning, remember, ...don't let it get away. APE: [Sneaks up on the oink, but touches him with his hand instead of whacking him with the log. Oink recoils and squeals. Ape taken aback turns to plant.] Ugly, isn't it? Sweaty, too, just like you said. Yich, it smells.

GT: Why didn't you hit him? Now you got it all excited.

APE: I'm not so sure I have the stomach for this—in more ways than one. [moves back and pulls off another leaf] you're much more to my liking.

GT: Now cut that out! Just get me out of your minuscule mind and do what you have to do.

APE: [Goes up to Oink again; touches it; Oink looks up and squeals] Aw, shucks, it's got sad eyes. And mighty tough skin. Gee, I don't know....I'm not a saber-tooth tiger, you know...doubt my teeth could sink into its hide.

GT: Applesauce!...You'll learn to skin it soon enough. Football's depending on it. Baseball already has priority on horse hides.

APE: After feasting on you, I'm not very hungry. [ape drops log and starts to walk off.]

GT: Now, just hold on, you finely groomed monkey suit,...you can't deny the progression of pre-histrionics. You have an obligation to the audience out there. So, you're not hungry?—my, this will never do— you must prepare for your future selfishness. Grab that vine over there and loop it around its neck and take it home with you— domesticate it. That's a very big step in history.

APE: [Picks up vine; goes toward boar and ties vine around pig's neck.] Holy sow! He's got less neck than I have.

BOAR: Oink! Squeal! Not exactly fond of your goal, monster man. [Ape drags hog off stage, boar squealing] Mind if I punt? Dee-fense! Dee- fense!...

GT: [adjusts herself—a leaf here and there] Whew! defense, indeed! [BOY PLANT [holding tulip, pinky out, wrists hanging loosely, tip-toeing from behind, singing]

BP: Tip-toe through the tulips is the way my life so felicitous flips.

GT: Where were you when I needed you?...you useless twig of blossoms— why, you're setting a bad example for those flower children sprouting into the future. Didn't you even care how that Ape abused me?

BP: Frankly, darling, no. You know how I detest those animated creatures that can't stay put.

GT: As usual I suppose you were safely tucked under the covers of your flower bed, hiding from reality.

BP: But of course, You know how I hate such roguish mobility. And for some reason those detestable animals don't pick the flowers. Gosh, how there always on the go—sniffing here, digging and lifting their leg there, doing their filth everywhere. They simply have no roots.

GT: Well, after all, we do need the fertilizer, however abominable. Ah, for the nitrogen in the air and the cool rains!

BP: Yes, yes, much dignified and befitting our stationary life in lieu of that awful, awful poop.

GT: Truly superior in life—why we're already perfect. No need to further evolution with respect to us. I simply don't understand why we have to suffer all this nonsensical change because animals have learning disabilities.

BP: Why have them at all?...they're such vile, slimy things.

GT: Apparently Pan has assigned them—not them, actually, just one species—a task beyond our scope. It seems this species has promises to keep, while we fortunately vegetate.

BP: Vegetation—a blessed word. What need of promises when here in all our glory we are supreme, perfectly self-sufficient—with the help of a little sun and rain.

GT: Yes, but you're forgetting the dreadful poop...and the equally dreadful fate of imperceptible change. [points with one hand to the other.] See that bud on my linger-tip? [Boy shakes leaves.] Germinating inside is the fate of the world.

BP: Oh, heavens, must we be so melodramatic over an apple that won't bear fruit for a million years! Nothing will change our perfection. [does a little hop and dance] Tip-toe through the tulips. That's how nature nobly equips. So why this awful twisting of the chain? When we so supremely reign! [dances off]

GT: Foolish twig...unaware of toils and spoils of man, who'll stuff our kin in a can. [lights dim]

A c t I : B e g i n n i n g s

Scene 1

[LIGHTNING CRACKS, THUNDER ROLLS, LIGHTS FLICKER AND FLASH; girl tree reaches back in her foliage as lights slowly rise, and holds in palm a shiny exaggerated apple.]

GT: My, my,...what a million years can do!

ADAM: [Enters attired in extremely skimpy loin cloth, holding his side, apparently in pain, muttering] You'd think He would have used an anesthetic. [Looks up] God! that hurt. [looks under bandage] There

must be another way—woe is me.

EVE: That's wo-man. [as she slinks on in a thin body suit, lending to nudity] You think it was easy for me being snapped out like a wishbone! It was your wish, don't forget...carrying on like some sort of idiot that you were lonely, afraid of the dark, wanting a security blanket—such childish drivel.

ADAM: Yeah, but I didn't think it would be my wishbone!

EVE: Well, I'm here, what now?

ADAM: What do you mean?

EVE: Mean? Isn't that rather strange coming from someone who's not supposed to mean?

ADAM: And what is that supposed to mean?

EVE: What mean means.

ADAM: I think you're being mean.

EVE: AH, exactly what I mean...that we should be doing something, you know like...thinking...but, of course, you wouldn't know what I mean.

ADAM: You're confusing me with your mean meaning.

EVE: Good, that's what I'm here for...so let's do something.

ADAM: We're not here to do something. Look around you. [sweeps hand] Doing has already been done.

EVE: Why that's absurd!...One must do something.

ADAM: Now that's absurd. Why not just do nothing.

EVE: [exasperated] Oh, I suppose even doing nothing is doing something.

ADAM: Fine, then we'll do it. [They sit down and lean against each other] Nice day, wouldn't you agree? [Eve twiddles thumbs, starts humming.] Nice day, I said.

EVE: Huh?...Oh, yes, delightful, except...

ADAM: Except what?

EVE: Well, after all, this is the first day, so we can't really compare it to any other day.

ADAM: Oh, but I got it from the horse's mouth...uh, that is from Him [points skyward] that there were five other days already.

EVE: More like five billion if you ask me...what with all this debris [points to bones here and there] the days must've been riddled with mistakes and redrafts.

ADAM: Yes, it certainly seems there was a good deal of corporate mismanagement.

EVE: Whatever and however, at least they weren't boring. [yawns] God! Why are we here?...Perhaps the new breed of mismanagement?... Why am I filled with empty questions when there are no means to answers? Oh, Adam, why don't we think of something! What say, [gestures toward girl plant] we pick some of those lovely apples?

ADAM: God forbid!

EVE: Oh, I don't think he meant that literally.

ADAM: He was very stressful when he enunciated "not"...the "shalt was barely audible.

EVE: [Walks around, looking bored; sits down again] You know— [studying him closely] there I go again—of course you don't. [strokes his throat] You have a funny neck. [She raises her head and runs her finger along her throat; pulls his hand up to the little knob.] Here...feel. See, mine has a bump, giving it character, style...some shape to sounds, design to words. Yours is flat, uninteresting, monotonous..

ADAM: So? That's the way it was created. There's nothing I can do about it.

EVE: [looks out at audience] Wouldn't want to bet on that, would you? [winks at audience] There is something....Eat an apple, Adam.

ADAM: No, it's Adam's apple, Eve. [scratches head, looks at audience] Now where in the devil—devil?—did that come from?

SERPENT: [Enters, loitering round "tree"; with sotto voice] Psst, Eve, [Eve turns round; serpent gestures toward girl tree] behold! [plucks apple, breathes "fire' on it, polishes it on tail; holds it up to her, then puts it back in girl tree's palm. Eve rises entranced, steps slowly toward apple.]

EVE: Oh, my! So delectable, so astonishingly brazen in its gauche crimson allure—how could such innocence be so tempting. [Girl tree shakes, dances, extends apple to Eve's lips.]

ADAM: [feeling his throat, gazing out at audience] Forget about apples, Eve. [turns to her] Remember what He said about the dinosaurs.

EVE: [turning from the tree] Gargantuan dummies!...So they took a swim in the forbidden asphalt pool. That was simply stupidity beyond belief. You can't very well equate ignorant beasts having a passion for slimy, gooey baths to my wanting this [turns to girl plant] nourishing, heavenly work of art.

ADAM: Everything is a heavenly work of art. [goes to proscenium center, peering out as though taking in the wonders of creation] Ah, the wonder of it all—the great vaulted firmament—why it's simply angelica—Michaelangelican! Gaze upon the swelling seas and smell the sweet sweat of God's labors. Stand upon this rock [small platform downstage concealed by shrubbery] and feel the permanent foundation of solid existence and faith.

SERP: [Snake dances round Eve.] Behold, Eve, the fruit of knowledge. Power, Eve, knowledge is power. [Runs off.]

EVE: [Returns downstage with Adam] Adam, what good is life this way?

ADAM: This way? There is no other way.

EVE: No, something isn't right.

ADAM: How can that be? We have the world at our fingertips. And more important we have each other. [pulls her toward him, winces] Ouch! [holds his side]...even though you're a thorn in my side.

EVE: [stepping back from his hold] There must be something more to life than innocence and...love?

ADAM: [pulls her to him] Can't think of anything I want more.

EVE: [pulling away again] Why, of course!...Why didn't I think of it. Yet how could I?...Can you think of thinking? Don't you see, Adam?...you're onto something. [gives him a hug] Oh, my gallant short- rib! [she runs up to girl tree; takes the apple, turns and gazes at it quizzically.] To think or not to think, that is the pulp of the world's questions: whether to suffer unwittingly in the blind of bliss, or to offer to our progeny the exquisite raging storm of knowledge. [she's about to bite into it; Adam rushes toward her and they struggle.]

ADAM: Eve, you're mad! The devil's [looks quizzically at audience] —devil?- -got hold of you. Once knowledge there is a schism in the heart—in lieu of intuitive good there is but an empty search for it; no longer love as we have it; merely the desire.

SERP: [Re-enters and snake dances around Adam.] Adam, thou art prime rib. The very first of a driven herd to be led to slaughter in behalf of thy new species, man, caterers of a new destiny. [Adam lets go of Eve] Thy God may be offended, but where is he? Hath he not left thee to thine own will? Nature reigns supreme now. [aside] How's that for modesty. Her dictum is that new man must have knowledge to be her custodian of earth and far into the future of the stars. Yield, then, O man—embark on bold paths. [does some hocus pocus] Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entrate. ¹

ADAM: [Slowly emerges from spell, turns to Eve.] Come to think—think? oh, well—what do we need God for?

SERP: Splendid!...thank God—oops, I don't believe I said that—he's not retarded. [motions to Eve who brings apple enticingly to Adam; serpent does some more hocus-pocus over the Adam] Hodie mihi, cras tibi, homme d'esprit. ²

Gaze at this masterpiece, [gesturing to apple] this juicy pulp of knowledge, Adam.

ADAM: Looks like a very ordinary apple to me.

SERP: True, true, how very right thou art—for thou doth not yet have the sense for the extraordinary. Ah, but trust me. Within this crimson globe is circumscribed the seeds of consciousness, ready to burst into exciting new worlds.

EVE: Oh, yes, yes, I see them! Oh, Adam take of the fruit!

ADAM: [Takes a look around] Gee, I don't know...this is an awfully nice world right here. Why would anyone want to leave such a lovely garden?...seems perfect.

EVE: But we'll never know unless...

SERP: Ah, indeed—to know, to parse, compare—such rhapsody! [wiggles tail; motions to Eve who again holds up apple to Adam] To know, Adam, that's the grand scheme [winks at audience, aside] diabolical, that is, [rubs hands] heh, heh,heh.

ADAM: Well, what do you...think, Eve?

EVE: How should I kn...oops...yet. But what have you to lose?...except that dumb look on your face. Besides, you said you were hungry after your surgery.

SERP: Sure, it'll plug up that ugly hole in your rib cage.

ADAM: I wonder why? I know God sealed it; yet it keeps breaking. [Eve tantalizes Adam; he hedges, then takes it from her hand.] Maybe just one bite. [bites into it and chews it; thinks about it, seems disappointed] Aw, mackintosh...isn't there a golden delicious in the bunch?

SERP: Oh, for Lucifer's sake, eat it! The goldens are reserved for the golden age—you're just an upstart.

EVE: You're not supposed to be discriminating yet, anyway.

ADAM: [looks at her disdainfully] Is that why He gave me you?

SERP: O deeply cutting, delightfully nasty! [aside] Oh, Lucifer, it's working on him already!

ADAM: [Observes Eve; walks round her, rubbing chin] Just look at you, running around in your underwear—you ought to be ashamed of yourself.

EVE: Ashamed? [vaguely curious, takes apple from Adam and bites into it] Ashamed! Oh, my! [covers her bosom with arms and crosses legs; goes to tree and tears off a large leaf to let dangle from loincloth]

SERP: O sweet malevolence!...beyond expectations!

ADAM: Give me my apple back, you slut!

EVE: Your apple! [struggle ensues] You, you, obnoxious...Johnny Appleseed!...Ours, feller,...50-50.

ADAM: Now, wait a minute here,...you...battle-axe, I'm the one who's supposed to have the power and the knowledge and the glory. Isn't that right, Serp? [grabs apple core]

SERP: [in process of sneaking off] Me?...I'm just an innocent bystander.

EVE: [to Adam] You...you...male-chauvinist pig! Tell him Serp, [steps on his tail to prevent him from leaving] you deceitful snake; tell him he's nothing but a pig and that he is not suitable to the task of man of knowledge as you had perceived.

SERP: Oh, dear, [tries to pull tail from under her foot] I really must be going. I shall have a very heavy schedule henceforth. Now that thou hast mentioned it, there is a striking resemblance, with that apple in his mouth.

ADAM: Why, you're nothing but an overgrown worm! [makes a fist] Get out of here before I make bait out of you.

SERP: [frees tail from her foot] Believe me I'm going—no beast wants to

tangle with the likes of thee! Come to think of it I did come out of

a can of worms. [exits]

[Eve takes another apple from girl tree; Adam drops core and takes new apple from her.]

SERP: [Serp pops head out from wing for an aside, picks up discarded core] Oh, such speedy results—littering already! [tosses core into audience; exits]

ADAM: No time, Eve, prepare my dinner.

EVE: I will not; fix it yourself. I'm not your woman.

ADAM: Then what in blazes are you?...just a pain in the side?

EVE: I'm my own person. Just because I'm your rib doesn't mean I'm your lagniappe.

ADAM: My head is full from that apple anyway. Prepare for bed, woman.

EVE: I certainly will not....You go, I'm not tired.

ADAM: Eve, come to bed, not being tired has little to do with it.

EVE: That's ridiculous...bed is for sleeping, and I told you I'm not tired.

ADAM: I thought you were supposed to know about...you know...things, now?

EVE: Oh, but I do!...perfectly. That's why I'm not going to bed with you.

SERP: [pokes head out from wing and asides] Ah, but we know she must ...to bear generations of troubled and troublesome women.

Curtain

Index3

Index 2

Joan's Page

Scene 2

[Movie screen comes down; subliminal picture of Macintosh computer is flashed on screen at five second intervals for half minute; curtain opens; traveler closed; Judy, hefty, rustic, is dancing in wash tub]

GIRL: [somewhat younger, enters] Hi, neighbor, watcha doin makin wine for the old man?

JUDY: Nope, startin the season's applejack.

GIRL: Shoot, that's watcha do makin wine. How can y 'mash apples that a way?

JUDY: Got long toe-nails.

GIRL: Hope they's clean.

JUDY: Only scraped under’m last month or so—afta cotton pickin.

GIRL: Still, seems a might easier if ya used a masher.

JUDY: Ain't got a one—broke it on the old man's haid.

GIRL: Oh?...brawlin again.

JUDY: Yep, had me plain loco he had....Been belly-achin’ about all his applejack gone...jest couldn't take his fussin. So I upped and smashed him with the mash...put'm in the hospitable, I did.

GIRL: Ya musta mashed 'm good, I reckon. How come, then, ya botherin ta make more for that ingrated boozer?

JUDY: T’ain’t for him—'s for me. That's why the booze was went in the first place.

GIRL: [dips dipper into tub and takes a hefty draft] Say, now, this, sure do haf a mule kick to it.

JUDY: Reckon it would what with the mules always grazin round the orchard.

GIRL: Eva think o' goin commercial?

JUDY: What fer?...just make those damn Yankees richer from their darn taxin.

GIRL: Feds don't hafta know...jest hook up wit' da night runners.

JUDY: Don' know 'bout that...slickers 's funny 'bout us rebel booters since all those dumb car-chase movies 'bout us po'r folks.

GIRL: Nah, only thing they cares about 's the price's right. Yuppies never pay mo'r 'n theys hafta 'cause that's how theys get rich and stay rich. Ya heard a Wall Street, ain't ya? [scratches nose to think]

Alls ya need's a ketchy name...like...God's Apples or Heaven's

Orchards.

JUDY: Shucks, theys can't be that dumb...I jest use the wormy apples...good ones go into apple sauce and cider.

GIRL: Sell it cheap enough and theys don' care—look how they all go

crackin for that crack. They'll kick up their heels over this kick. Now, let's see...sumptin’’’’ with image, you know like that computer theys call an apple, which makes about as much sense as callin' one of those silly floppies—you know those things that look like worn out forty-fives?—theys calls them elephants—now what kinda sense do that make, exceptin they like nice round shiny things to show they got polish and big old things showin theys got power to boot.

[ponders, snaps finger] I got it...How's about JUDY'S JACK, untouched by human hands?

JUDY: Ain't it the truth. [puts hands in apron and continues treading] I might just foot that apple of an idea. [traveler closes]

Scene 3

NARRATOR: And thus the success story of still another entrepreneurial distiller who has shown once more when there's no government interference, business profits handsomely. Judy's Jack is available at your nearest roadside truck sale. And may the other vague suggestion store in your floppy brain that you may run out and enhance your mind to nth-elephant degree. [exits; Serpent enters with a cup of Judy's Jack]

SERP: Heh, heh,...by all means, do thus indulge in tranquil delusions—it does so facilitate my aim—yes, yes, by all means, drink, drink, fill your cup with the liquid of fancy so that the hangover of truth will bang harder in your brain as the story progresses through millennia! [exits]

Scene 4

[Nomad Camp in the forest outskirts of Argos whose backdrop is the ancient city atop a mountain in the skyline distance; Man, woman and child sitting round camp fire slurping; some shrubbery scattered, but girl tree and boy plant are DS]

MAN: More mutton, woman.

WOMAN: Yes, my husband-master. [sarcastically; rises reluctantly]

CHILD: Me, too, woman.

WOMAN: Get it yourself, brat. [pours wine on ram]

MAN: Don't you dare talk to my manchild in that manner.

WOMAN: Okay, already! [aside] Mutton, mutton, button, button your mouth...damn chauvinists. If I ever get my hands on that lame brain dame from the Bible which hasn't been written yet...well, it has been written,...it just hasn't been translated...not that it 'd do any good, we just ain't learned to read yet...Anyhow, what the heck were you trying to weave, Eve?—whatever it is it doesn't, not for us finer sex, anyway.

MAN: Stop your muttering and get the mutton, wife.

WOMAN: Muttering, mutton, mutton, muttering, either way it's an exercise of the mouth, just ram's rambling. And I'm fed up with your mutton and you with my muttering, as you call it, because you don't appreciate the verbal power of thinking beings. [blinding light flashes on her; she seems entranced] I have to take abuse from my own child because he's a boy and if I had a girl down the block, like the Agamemnons— well, the Aegisthuses, now—you'd treat her just like they treat that poor darling Electra who has more brains than all of Argos. Well, here's your mutton, you sleazy man, and man-to-be [tosses it at them] choke on it. [blinding light on her again] I've had it; I'm joining the Amazons—they saw the handwriting on the cave walls—they read between the lines and saw the pigs that you are. Snorking and pigging, wallowing in your own slimy sweat, drawing flies, lusting for the next virgin forced in line. [dumps more wine on ram, storms off in her first instant of pride under blinding light; the man and child look at each other dumbfounded; then they continue slurping from the remains of the mutton tossed at them; they crawl around looking for morsels]

MANCHILD: Don't you think you should go after her? What if she doesn't comeback? Who'll look after us?

MAN: No mind on the subject, son. Never happened before. [scratches head] We've had a long day hunting, son. We'll go into town and get another woman in the morning.

MC: Maybe for you!

MAN: But that's my mother out there in the forest. I just can't replace her as easy as you can. There's a difference, you know? [he rises and starts to exit]

MAN: There is? [scratches head again] Hm,...maybe you're right ...and it's more convenient having the same woman who's used to our habits. [rises from fire] Uh, wait for me, son. [aside, as he exits]

Guess, the boy's putting some meaning behind the thought of family, eh? [lights dim; spot on plants]

GIRLTREE: Can you believe those clods traipsing after that woman to do their bidding when she's so obviously their superior?

BOY PLANT: Ho, hum...you and your perverse interest in those ludicrous creatures pretending to be what they're not.

GT: Don't you ever tire of yourself and that rooted existence?

BP: We've been through this before. Why can't you dwell in your sublime perfection and forget these great pretenders. I trust they're transitory fools that soon should be falling off the edge, the way they keep moving about.

GT: Ever since those two grabbed my apple, I haven't been the same.

BP: How could you possibly let that slimy snake crawl around you, coaxing you to bare your apple blossoms? Shame on you.

GT: There's more to snakes than meets your bud's eye. Shh...We have company.

BP: I hope they don't snake through my foliage and pick my virgin flowers.

GT: Will you shut up, you flowered fag. [Enter Clytaemnestra and Electra, the former decked in royal robe, the latter in frayed burlap dress ]

CL: Why, here's a lovely open hearth for us to warm our bones and pause to have that heart to heart talk, which might finally, my daughter, allay your fears at long last. [she warms her hands over the fire, sits, continuing to warm her hands]

EL: I doubt it, queen...and are you so out of touch that you call a peasant fire a hearth?

CL: Being of noble and divine blood, I...

EL: Why, you're just a mutt...speaking of which, that mutton on the spit smells grossly tempting. [leans over the roast and whiffs it]

BP: O lovely maiden, come smell me!

CL: Hardly fit for our station.

EL: Our? Surely, after marrying me off to that peasant...

CL: That was your father's idea, not mine.

EL: I have no sire. [picks up goatskin, ladles roast, looks for a knife, finds one near the fire]

BP: No sire! She must be one of us who's lost her soil.

GT: I thought you weren't interested? Shh...I'm trying to listen.

CL: No, but you have Aegisthus, a fine step-father. [stretches her legs and holds her sandaled feet toward the fire]

EL: The murderer of my dear sire. [brandishes knife; aside] Would that I carve his hide! [then carves a piece from the roast] Not bad at all for mutton. [chewing]

BP: She chews too! I've heard of carnivorous plants. But never dreamed they could come in the form of such a lovely flower.

GT: If you don't shut up, I'll shake this caterpillar on you.

CL: Why are you so obsessed? Your sister Chrysothamnus has no trouble yielding to the twists of fate.

EL: Being much younger at the fateful hour, she folded under your sinister persuasiveness. I at the age of reason was another matter.

CL: You deny that you too hated Agamemnon for sacrificing my beautiful first born for the sake of that hideous trollop? [bares her legs to the fire, rubbing them]

BP: Oh, gross...worse than caterpillars—those human snakes.

EL: I'll not deny it; I mourn more the death of my sister than of my sire's; [she sits] but that does not imply that I accord with your horrid sense of justice that killed my king.

CL: Though married now, you still remain a maiden, but if and when you become a mother, you'll see the sunlight in my dark deed.

EL: Never! There is no justification. That is subterfuge for your foul heart....Nor will I become a mother to a child of ignoble blood to satisfy that murderous husband of yours that they'll be no heir- apparent from my contaminated womb. [strolls toward the plants]

GT: Good girl! Stay pure!

BP: By all means, don't let them pick the flower.

CL: Oh, how your mind does muddle in the mud!

EL: Oh, and I suppose he and his partners in crime have been tracking down Orestes to restore your only son to your loving bosom?

CL: What else?

EL: To kill him. [returning to the fire]

BP: See? What did I tell you, if they don't fall off the edge, they'll kill each other off.

CL: Oh, Electra,...why do you so torture me by dwelling so on death.

EL: It isn't death, O Queen Clytaemnestra, who once was my mother, but murder that I dwell on.

CL: Was it not murder when your father slit the graceful throat of your adorable sister Iphigenia?

EL: As hideous as it was, the brutal fact remains that he was ordered by Zeus to do it. [sits across from CL who rises and rubs her back over the fire]

GT: Or the gods will kill them off.

CL: That's where you're completely wrong, my child. He had a choice—as do all who engage in war—by simply turning the Argive ships pointing to Troy and mooring them at Argos.

EL: In this you're wrong. You might just as well ask the sun to change its course or alter the flight of birds in fall... [rises and cuts another piece of mutton]

BP: Oh, please do...birds stain my lovely petals with their berry poop.

EL: And futilely expect the ghost of Agamemnon not to cry out to his son Orestes to avenge his corporeal death.

CL: Thus conditioned, you cannot think otherwise. Still, I say your father, wilfully chose to slay my lovely baby and go off to fight that ugly war in behalf of that dreadful slut that launched so many ships to hell.

EL: Evil queen, why do you think of Helen, your own sister, in that shade when history testifies that she was rudely abducted and that the Argives were offended by the Trojan violation of its living symbol of beauty, for which all Greece does strive to attain? [chews daintily; while CL rubs rump]

BP: How vain! Why, all that is required for beauty is to have a flower from me.

GT: You're vain.

CL: How you do dream! Know you not that man will resort to any subterfuge, to escape the daily drudge of getting on with life in order to provide little beyond the barest of needs.

EL: As your practical tact has subjected me to below the barest needs. Just look at me in these rags, but remnants of my birthday long in the past, which you so generously celebrated as an appendage to your blasphemous wedding.

CL: Is it blasphemous to care enough for our beloved city-state to rule bereft of fanciful war for the sake of a slut who had the hots for a younger man? As far as your distasteful fashion goes, you know full well you wear those silly rags to humiliate me...your trunks are filled with lovely things.

EL: With Iphigenia's and Chrysothamnus', you mean.

CL: Would a terrible mother be out here in these horrid suburbs of Argos, where none but barbarians and Atlantis nomads dwell, to take her daughter safely home, lest she be abducted by these creatures of the forest and I, a heartbroken mother, never again feasting eyes upon you?

EL: These eyes are not loving eyes; they are your conscience, a piercing guilt to remind you of your vicious act.

CL: You make it sound so personal—verily I admit, however much I missed my daughter, I, in seeing the Argive ships safely moored in the Argolis, had already forgiven my dear Agamemnon, but when he set shore with that puzzling Cassandra on his arm, all the pent up hatred for the man pulsated in my veins. Still, even that I could take, until I realized that weird prophetess would reign in my stead, though hating the king even more than I, and thus destroy our beloved Argos, the jeweled city of Hellenic culture.

EL: That realization was but rationalization.

CL: Give me credit, dear, for having at least half your brain. The fact is, in the end it was a political decision to save the city from fanciful ploys and incantations that those two would have exercised— there is nothing more deleterious to humankind than the passionate games men play and the visions religious fanatics like Cassandra conjure up under the guise of noble desire. [she sits and stretches legs with feet up to the fire; stares to the heavens]

BP: They have a new game now; two lovers practically picked me bare with their [chants] "love me, love me not...love...etc." pulling my tender petals one by one.

GT: Would that they had pulled your roots.

CL: Why, it's in direct contradiction to Athena who holds that disputes be settled by justice, not by the politics of power and mystery.

EL: You forget, my mother of a once sunny past, that my father was barely aboard his ship bound for Troy, when you lay between the linen with that cowardly Aegisthus—in even poor conscience, one could hardly call that a political act.

CL: I'll not deny the weakness of the flesh, but that doesn't negate the mind's intent to find a solution en route.

EL: To where?...I'll draw a map to show you where whore's play their games in order to prey on man's delusion where his sex-act is in fact misconceived as all-conquering when in reality he's being vanquished and literally prone to do the queen bee's bidding. [stretches out arms to warm hands; CL decides to whiff the meat]

BP: Bees...awful rapists.

GT: Awful taste, too.

CL: And how do you, a highly acclaimed virgin, know of these sordid matters?

EL: [pointing to her mother] By observing the very best.

CL: Then you observe obscurely. There is little to learn in the material act. Be a dear and slice me a thin bit.

EL: True, but behind the act, the why does manifest, and that, my once darling mother, is the sinister plot to control events of men in order to enrich, not the soul, but the absurd luxuries of body comforts, like the well-kept slave girl who's exempt of all duties of

servitude, except the foraging of her body. [slicing meat]

BP: My sentiments exactly. Those busy bees have no right to my insides.

EL: [hands her a slice] At least the man forgoes his comfort to engage in conflicts—whether real or not—to counter forces—whether real or not—he deems a threat to the freedom—real or not —to obtain material comfort and for the chosen few, the freedom to pursue the spirit of humanity, and thus the sustenance of advancing civilization- -real or not.

CL: And I suppose your dear father, the poor sacrificing dear, for over ten years fighting a foolish war lost all? Why, he took all the comforts of home with him and came back with that witch Cassandra— some sacrifice!

EL: Perhaps he knew he would not come home to a faithful wife!

CL: Oh? I suppose that trip to Ithaca inspired you, eh? That foolish Penelope and her pious fidelity, while her husband is still island- hopping from one temptation to the next!

EL: Whether you view it foolish or not, I was indeed inspired by her magnificent demeanor. Regardless of its impractical character, in your eyes, it shall go down in history as human behavior to be emulated; whereas your...

CL: And when Odysseus returns from his escapades, I suppose she shall be rewarded?

EL: No, he will be rewarded with the profoundly, touching joy of having a woman who truly loved, not one who ambushed her husband with an axe. [CL recoils and looks to the heavens, then buries her face in her lap; EL looks at her without pity]

GT: I'm down in history, too, you know.

BP: Yes,...you and your slimy friend. God should have felled you too.

CL: I see...it's useless to pursue this any further. You've made it bluntly clear that you do not wish to understand my motives. Always daddy's little girl; you'll forever look upon me as one who dashed your hope of ever finding an ideal Agamemnon to call your own. Well, it's just as well you've learned the bitter lesson: there are no ideals to emulate—not even Penelope. Had she been half the woman you claim her to be, she would have been clever enough to rid her home of those wolfish suitors as soon as they approached her door. Instead she beguiled them to linger on with her, teasing them like a dancing girl with her weaving and unweaving for some eighteen years. Why,

child she's perverse!

GT: Sounds perfectly natural to me. After all, it's seasonal to do and undo.

BP: I hate to yield my flower to the frost.

GT: I know, you're such a spineless,...stemless...O why couldn't you be a manly forest tree!

BP: What and suffer the axe?...you'd like that.

WOMAN: [enters; they rise, feeling out of place] No, ladies, stay. Be my guests. Well, now what have we here? [they sit down again]

CL: Two souls that have lost their way.

EL: One, anyway.

WOMAN: Welcome to my home, my name is Faye. I like to mouth the name...never hear it round here. [looking at Electra] you seem familiar...where have I seen you? Judging from your dress, I'd say you're from the barbarian tribe that's commingling with our lost Atlantis tribe.

EL: How observing...I come from a barbaric mother.

FAYE: Yes, don't we all—damn Eve. Would you care for some mutton?....Should be just right for eating now. My men folk ate already; they have no patience...start tearing into it when it's still much too rare. Where we come from they're used to fish that cooks in no time. [picks up some cups and pours wine in them] Unique the chance to have lady guests, let alone serve the wine.

CL: That's very kind of you, Faye, but we really must be going before dreaded dark sets in. We have a mile to tread before we reach Argos. We simply wanted to rest and warm ourselves by your most cordial fire. [they rise] Well, perhaps a sip or two. [CL sips; EL smells the brim]

FA: Nonsense...too far to walk. Might as well have a bite, till my husband gets back—that is, if he ever finds me—we have a fine cart and a sure-footed ox to take you back. [she sinks a stick into the roast] See?...it's done to perfection, begging to be eaten. And this pretty slip of a thing surely needs some nourishment. I suppose this is your daughter?

EL: [aside] No more!

CL: Oh, forgive me, Faye...how rude of me. I'm Clytaemnestra...and... [Faye bows]

FA: Your Ladyship, I'm honored. And it was so kind of you to allow our poor displaced souls to reside here in your enchanting forest.

CL: It is my pleasure; we welcome into our fold those who have met misfortune .

EL: Except those close.

CL: And yes, this is my daughter, Electra, [askance at Electra] ...and still is.

FA: Why, my child, a lovely princess, are you dressed in such awful rags...while your mother queen's bedecked in accordance with her station?

EL: I have no mother, I have no queen.

CL: [laughs nervously] Princess Electra loves to imitate the palace clown. She enjoys wearing remnants from the servant's quarters to embarrass the royal family.

EL: Family!

CL: She has a weird sense of humor, you see?

FA: So you're the famous Electra! We nomads have heard of you as far as the other side of the gulf. You're the talk of the community fire. [to CL] Is it true that you have relegated this dear child to servant girl? From the looks of her...

CL: Rumors, Faye, simply rumors...why she's my flesh and blood!

EL: My sire was my flesh and blood too.

FA: Oh, yes, I heard that your ladyship had killed your father king. I

can understand that...many times I've risen early before dawn wishing I had the nerve to put my husband out of his misery so I could be out of mine. But, you know, that's normal night logic that always recedes to the light of day—especially when there are children. You have a son, too?

EL: He, too would have been dead, were it not for a faithful servant and the will of Zeus.

CL: That's simply not true, my daughter! Your fire just will not burn out, will it? As for you, my gracious hostess, for an out of towner you certainly have been updated on the affairs of Argos —by sensational news-mongers, no doubt. The fact is I have been pining for my son all these terrible years. I miss him terribly.

FA: You have substantial means to find him, so why don't you?

EL: Oh, believe me, they have tried! The murderous Regent Aegisthus has sent troops after him for almost a decade to find him...and to kill him, for fear he return with vengeance and take his throne as heir- apparent.

FA: Oh, my, is this what city life breeds!

EL: It doesn't have to breed darkness and murder, if we were but content to delimit life and not try to over-inscribe with dark. penciled motives.

CL: My good servant, listen not to the rambling of my daughter's disorder. I fear she has suffered a good deal from the plague of flies. One stuck in her ear for three days and nested and bred delusions of death and horror in her brain. There is no truth to any of these canards; for as you can see, I'm a normally concerned mother, who has found her daughter in a trance wandering about this dark, barbaric forest, and wish to return her home safely. What more proof of parental integrity—I a queen displaced from her guarded domicile, lest her daughter wander off and meet with horrid fate. [she leans forward to fire, warming her hands, then sits comfortably]

BP: Thank Pan for bees...they make those ugly flies stay away.

GT: You're a wilted...shh.

FA: Well, intentioned perhaps, but—forgive me, your regius —very stupid. Why didn't you bring the palace guard to assist you?...unless [stoops down and reaches under Clytaemnestra's robe and withdraws a dagger] this dagger's poised to make canards emerge as fact.

CL: Woman, I could have you buried alive for that!

FA: No, good queen, I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just a cautious woman from soggy Atlantis, and as a mother who lost three daughters in childbirth, I am inclined to feel for your daughter's welfare—at least in my forest.

CL: Your forest! And my daughter's welfare!...as though I haven't concern, well, I never...it so happens I always carry this little dagger...

EL: Yes, she always striking at the dark.

CL: I'll not deny this instrument of conscience; but mainly it sidles me as a reminder of the horrors mankind heaps upon itself.

FA: [still skeptical] What Hera has in store for her tomorrow is your business; but now it is mine. [she kicks some dirt on the fire] There, that'll get the smoke going and help preserve ....Well, it doesn't seem the menfolks can find their way back. After I get you home, I might have to go out looking for them...they're such bird-brains.

CL: What do you mean...see us home? [she rises]

FA: Why, I shouldn't want anything to happen to my queen. These barbarics from the north, you know...and I'm ashamed to admit I don't even trust the likes of my own kind, either, especially when two beauties are alone in the forest.

CL: [changes tone] Why how sweet of you, Faye,...to watch over us like this.

FA: Well, you know how it is with those weird sisters weaving their unpredictable patterns...terrible things can happen.

EL: I don't wish to go to Argos. It's home no more. I have no mother. I'll stay here with you and be your slave. I'm worn out from all that mourning and praying to the gods for my brother's return to wreak vengeance. I'd just as soon get away from it...start my own life.

CL: Oh, daughter, that's what I want you to do! Don't be a prisoner of my actions. In that way we'll both be free. [she tries to embrace her daughter, Electra backs off]

EL: I'm sorry,...mother, it is too late for that. The thread's been set to loom.

CL: Oh, Electra! How I've yearned to hear the word "mother" from your lips! [she holds up her arms to the sky, reels and climbs into the cart upstage and bows her head in sobbing contemplation]

FA: Your offer is tempting, child—not the slave part, you'll never be your own person that way—for I too have longed for a daughter and know the feeling....You heard your mother. She's sincere,...it's nature's way. Because she broke your heart once, need not mean that she'll do it again, nor need you break hers. If your mother ever did wish to harm you it is only that you mirror her innocent past and sometimes we mothers act illogically. Instead of dwelling on the image of past joy, we sometimes think to shatter the image of what was lost to forget instead of cherishing that wondrous feeling through our children and by painstakingly rebuilding the good of the past to excel in the present. Trust her, child, pity her, forgive her. [light dances on her again] Your poor queen has suffered much. You see, I heard the story of Iphigenia—awesome in its grimness—I know the pain of such a loss. You were too young to feel the intenseness of losing a sibling—it is widely known that your mother and her sister Helen had no love between them— and though rare you are, the sorrow over your sister Iphigenia would be no match for the pain in a mother's heart. Flesh and blood of fathers are not the same as the flesh and blood nurtured inside the mother. True, your mother committed a terrible act, but remember your father's was even worse in taking from this poor queen her first born. [she reaches for Electra's hands and pulls her to her feet, and puts her arm around her]

GT: [blows her nose in a leaf] Oh, I love these soaps...they touch my cores.

BP: You should be a cornstalk.

FA: So be kind to your poor mother. In time Aegisthus will receive his due; but please find it in your heart to dissuade Orestes when he returns not to commit the most heinous crime of all.

EL: Faye, you must be a prophetess!

FA: No, I guess it really is an enchanted forest. [beam of light on Faye; they join Clytaemnestra in the cart]

EL: Still no one [gesturing toward Faye] to emulate, mother? [cart exits]

Scene 5

 [Lights dim momentarily; two savage looking men appear with crude, wooden

shovels; one picks smells an apple blossom from girl tree, approves, starts

digging her up]

GT: My, Pan, they're performing a transplant! Since Adam, it seems every one—even savages want to get into the act. [she's hauled off]

BP: Serves you right for eaves-drooping and engrossing yourself in soapy tales of errant man. [younger savage smells flower, tip-toes round BP] Oh, Ceres, weep for me!...doomed by my own perversion! [he's dug up and hauled off, by tip-toe and a dance]

[Lights brighten a bit more Man & Manchild appear]

MANCHILD: I cannot believe my mother has abandoned me; surely, she'll be back by morning's breakfast, else what am I to do for food?

MAN: What any son of a hunter would do; track down your breakfast in the wilds.

MC: But the wilds will not serve as cook.

MAN: [pokes mutton roast] We won't have to worry about that for awhile; for this is surely thoroughly cooked and enough to last us for days....Hmm, birds must have been picking at it.

MC: Ugh, mutton for breakfast...and what'll we do about bread?

MAN: Don't worry, we'll have a woman here by tomorrow to meet our daily needs.

MC: Is it really that simple?

MAN: Of course, son, women are weak and snap at the chance to have a man protect them.

MC: Even though, we men treat them like slaves?

MAN: They know of no better way. As our property they feel secure as oxen or horses that they will be valued almost equally.

[Two savages, armed with club and spear respectively, creep from behind shrubbery, smelling the roast; then edge toward the boy and Man; boy looks up]

MC: Father, beware! I fear the end is here! [Savage locks arm round Man's neck; while other points spear at the manchild]

SAV1: [holds club threateningly] Our end is to steal your ram, but doesn't mean we'll not end your life in the end. [Man struggles to no avail]

SAV2: Or enslave you, my tender boy, to our tribe, and to my affection. [fondles boy]

MAN: [holding on to club raised above his head] Oh, take the ram!...It's overdone, anyway. The likes of you will never know its succulence is gone; you no doubt thrive on discarded bones. But the boy is in my loins—take him and you may as well carve me for supper.

SAV1: We might be primitive, but long since left the sun-less cave of cannibalism. [signals to other; who goes to the roast]

SAV2: Judging from this charcoaled carcass we would be better off wrapping these two up in their own fat and throwing them on the fire in that dark cave. [A young nobleman with sword drawn enters]

NM: Your own thigh bones will be in that fire if you do not release those helpless creatures of my kingdom. [he grabs the beard of Savage 1 who relinquishes his hold on Man]

SAV1: Ouch! [drops club] I guess it pays to be clean-shaven, noble one. [Savage 2 lunges with spear toward nobleman who parries, grabs spear and hits him over the rump with it, the savage falls tumbling next to the boy who hits him over the head with a rams thigh. Savage sits up, rubs his head]

SAV2: O double humiliation! They're both mere boys!

SAV1: [scratching pain from his chin] Oh, but it seems, the warrior is the long expected boy-king who's come to claim his throne.

NOBLEMAN: No more a boy in thought or deed.

SAV2: Oh, not the feared Orestes!

ORESTES: At your disservice, [bows] my forest animals.

SAVS: Oh, Argos will never be the same! [they scurry off]

MAN: Orestes, eh?...I've heard my woman speak of you. I'm much obliged you chanced upon our camp, for I fear this mischief would not have been the last without your most impressive intervention. May you be as impressive in your father's city when you meet the usurper.

ORESTES: I have no doubt I will be, except for one aspect of it [picks up cup CL had drunk from]

MAN: Here, good man sit down. [takes cup, goes to goatskin to pour; while Orestes sits down next to the boy]

ORESTES: Well, lad, you were very handy with that bone. I see the makings of a fine soldier.

MC: Not if my mother gets her way—she's been sowing her barley as of late.

ORESTES: Oh, yes, mothers are that way. [Man returns with wine]

MAN: Refresh yourself, our saving grace. [to manchild] Have no worry, son, I'll not let go the reins on my woman. You shall remain a hunter...and if our new king here needs a soldier...feel free, sir, to enlist him in your command. For no son of mine will ever lift a hand for industry.

ORESTES: Of course, kings are in need of constructive hands as well.

MAN: Pardon your grace,...but that's what slaves and women are for.

ORESTES: Times do change. [drinks wine] Ah, I need this to heat the blood of my intent at Argos, wherein the fates do have in store for me swift satisfaction and drawn regret. [he rises]

MAN: Stay for mutton.

ORESTES: No offense, good fellow, but it seems your ram's been picked by birds. [to boy] May you have good fortune with your mother, lad. Love her no matter what. I must be gone. I have a rendezvous with doom. [exits]

MC: Good day, my Prince, may Artemis guide you well.

MAN: I trust Artemis well; Zeus is another matter.

MC: [paces] Oh where is my mother? Oh, why did the woman leave us?

MAN: Because these fool gods are everywhere in this mountainous terrain and I fear they've bugged her ear with deceits about the independence of personage that answers only to their gods, especially that troublemaker Athena.

MC: So that's why she seems so different since we fled Atlantis. She's been talking to the gods, huh?

MAN: What's worse, they have been talking to her. How else could she have gotten such fool ideas...an illiterate slave.

[Theseus enters with Helen of Troy on his arm.]

THESEUS: Did I overhear an unkind remark concerning my patron goddess, the noblest of Olympus? If I weren't so weary of my journey I'd run my sword through, you, creature man, [reaching for sword] as I did the Minotaur and toss you all the way across the Saronic to have you butchered by one of my Amazon kitchen-maids. [man cowers, but Theseus thrusts the sword into the roast, then proceeds to carve out a chunk] Man, I'm hungry...how about you, Helen?

HELEN: Oh, how uncouth, Theseus. I could never indulge in such indelicate nourishment as that.

MAN: [fearing TH's imposing presence] Do help yourself.

MC: Hey, bully warrior, leave our supper alone.

MAN: No, no, my boy, let the stranger eat. [rises to offer Theseus a cup of wine; then pours a cup for Helen, eying her admiringly and hands it to her; she hesitates, then smells it and puts the cup down]

HEL: Later, perhaps, my kind host. [to Theseus] And with regard to that stupid remark of yours I rather doubt that scullery maiden of yours would know how to butcher anything so gross, now that you have vanquished the Amazons and reduced them to servitude in your city- state. You so spoiled them with civil ways that they've developed the good taste to nourish upon lamb. [Man, startled by the majesty of the intruders, humbles himself, yet seems to eye Helen hungrily]

MAN: Who are you? I trust of regal blood, perchance divine from Olympus?

HEL: [cooing] Oh, yes, he is by all means divine, aren't you, honey?

TH: Ahem, well, yes, I suppose I am, if I must say so myself, I do cut quite a majestic figure.

HEL: You do quite well caressing a curvaceous one as well, if I must say so myself. [she poses in all her delicious glory; Man licks chops]

TH: Yes, she was a delight...must look her up again.

HEL: Don't start [she punches him] that phantom Helen rumor again, please.

MAN: [aside] Phantom or not, if she's a hair of you I'll take her.

TH: Got you out of a jam the last time. But enough of this image- architecture. In all intents and purposes I have de-sexed myself...

HEL: My, is that what it was last night in the cave?...fooled me.

MAN: [aside] These rich guys have all the luck!

FA: [enter Faye] My, my, it must be Homer's holiday with all the distinguished company we're having today.

MC: Mother!...You've come home to us.

FA: Apparently some male fool busy-body took it upon himself to conquer the Amazons and sold them into slavery.

TH: I am that fool, madam. and have directly chosen myself as champion of people, regardless of their sex. I am son of Aegeus and Athrea— notice the import of my including my mother in announcing my identity- -and destined am I to be king and founder of the great city of Athens, named in honor of the greatest woman— [aside to Helen] notice, my doll, I did not say beautiful—conceived by poets.

HEL: [pouts] Even though you had promised that you would call the city Helene.

TH: Don't fret, my dear, an entire block lit up with red coals is named in your dubious honor.

FA: Oh, noble warrior, if you are the defender of women, as you claim, then why did you defeat the Amazons and subject such women of substance to servitude?

TH: For that reason exactly: women of substance Athens needs to further its greatness. Because these women hated men so, I feared they would become extinct, so to insure their noble lineage, I placed them in the finest houses in our city-state.

HEL: [aside] Particularly his own.

FA: I think I smell a wolf behind that armor of yours; still, I cannot argue with pragmatic sanction. Tell me, good king, are these women slaves or citizens?

TH: Slaves for the time, until they issue forth good male stock.

FA: Why male?

TH: Of course, female too... [looks at Man] surely, we cannot overlook them, eh?

HEL: Obviously, the way you look them over.

TH: You see, since the age of kings is drawing to an end, and I have installed Draco as my pilot, we are in dire need of a jury system; that's why I stress the male aspect.

FA: Are women incapable of administering justice? Is not your own patron goddess an administrator of justice?

TH: My, you're a sharp one; I might defy all custom and reason and permit you to run for office, although with Draco at the helm—he's a cold man—he would not tolerate it. However, as a priestess and interpreter of oracles, your public presence would be excellent for the city's image, especially since you're an obvious commoner, who somehow has taken on wit—you will epitomize the dream of all thus low-life who are ambitious.

FA: You still have not answered my question.

TH: In time, sharp lady,...in time. Right now we're undergoing a transitional period. You have Athena's word that it will come to pass.

FA: The brilliant goddess herself did speak to you?

TH: Oh, often...you don't for a minute think that I could tie together this mish-mash of independent—actually obstinate—city-states, do you? I know I'm good, but by Zeus, there's even a limit to what I can do.

FA: Oh, sweet king, quickly what did she say?

TH: That within a generation or two or three or maybe more a great poetess would come on the public scene at Athens and through her publications would subtly suggest women's rights, which in turn would trigger the coming of a great, wise legislator to initiate a true democracy in Athens.

FA: Solon! Yes, yes, your goddess must have visited me in a dream —oh, this truly is an enchanted forest!—and the woman poet will be known as Sappho. Oh, and don't forget the comic Aristophanes, who will in his satires, champion women.

TH: Hmm,...Never heard of that one. [aside] I fear this is getting out of hand.

HEL: What a delightful idea—women with say!

MAN: [aside] A beauty like her needs nothing to say; men would rather die her slave than to live in liberty.

TH: [returns to Faye] You see?...you are, indeed, a prophetess and one who'll fit our needs.

FA: Then, take me to this city of yours and place me at the right hand of Athena's statue that I may be the living example of brainy women, who, as this great goddess, is blind to the justice of favoritism wherein men are the only favorites and women are but helpless plaintiffs. How proud I would be to serve as her living mouthpiece in a city of such grand design!

MAN: [to his wife] Muttering again, eh? [to Theseus] Don't think me disrespectful, sir, but I've had cities up to here [holds hand to neck]...we've just come from Atlantis...damn near drowned in our troubles. If it hadn't been for the little woman having the good sense to take swimming lessons my son and I would be with the other thousands at the bottom of the sea.

WOMAN: [aside] My ears deceive me—the gods are playing tricks—or I just heard my husband give me credit. [spot on her] Ah, my mind's eye has caught the distant future—a small, gleaming pliable plaque with writing and numbers across two colored circles—what's this?— countless thoughtless gifts, promises of unlimited consumption, for which we end up paying so much as punishment for our naivete'.

TH: Tut, tut—hmm, does he come before or after us in the pages of world history?—my good man, have no fear. I mean to develop a city—we're supposed to learn by our mistakes—virtually leak-proof. Athens, be assured, is planted high on a mountain, no sandy shawls—has a foundation sufficient to withstand even the Dionysian breath of those drunken Spartans bent by wine and war—aye, civilization will endure.

MAN: Oh, yeah?...what about this person thing. We don't like that kind of talk round here. That's what brought on the flood. Damn women of Atlantis, instead of dignified weeping because of their lack of efficiency in serving their men, they took to wailing in self-pity that even Poseidon and the nymphs started in and the first thing you know the tides came in and the rivers overflowed—such unbridled plumbing I had never seen.

FA: Then why didn't you listen to our cries of first class citizenship in the first place?.

MAN: Because in the second place is where you belong. [To Theseus] See?...always clamoring for city...zenship. No thank you, my lord, we'll stay put on the fringe of jungle law.

MC: Aye, my dad—proud hunter—abide!...Dear mother wench, and end your

radical ideas.

MAN: Yes, woman, this is your last chance, for I'll take another woman tomorrow.

FA: By the whip, I suppose, for no decent woman—now that I have seen the light—with half a brain could put up with your apish ways. Why nature ever uncurled your tail from round the branch is beyond Homeric insight. [man reaches for a whip and raises it threateningly; Theseus wrenches it from his hand]

TH: You heard your wife, my pathetic creature, she as a person has the right to join her cause—as did the fearless Amazons with a little help from me, of course. Then where [turns to manchild] will your proud father-hunter be? [returning to Man] Why, you'll be the hunted— those women are tough cookies—though I have the bulk of them under lock and key the idea of them are in the minds of women all over Greece and mean to crumble all men. That's why I offer the safe wrapping of the city in which all enjoy freedom and respect for one another under law. Guys, including you, [turning to Manchild] little bugger, as you will find, have to learn to give a little. [returning to Man] Otherwise, [then turns to Helen, who kisses him; and he again looks at MAN] we'll have nothing—know what I mean?

FA: Did you hear the king, Kong?─-nothing! [turns cold shoulder to him] Since cold showers haven't been invented yet, I suggest you spend your nights in the pond because before I leave I'm going to pass the word along to the virgins in the village that you are impotent and it'll come to pass by default.

KONG: You wouldn't!...would you, Faye?

FA: You always said all I ever do is scream or mutter; well, I'll scream this out before I leave.

KONG: And how will you explain away my son?

FA: I'll tell them he's a bastard—come to think of it... [shakes head] why bring that up.

HEL: Right on, soul sister!...beats the Amazon method.

KONG: Aw, c' mon, now you don't mean it. [he moves toward her, picks her up; she starts kicking and screaming, struggling to free herself from his clutches; before Theseus can intervene, she screams]

FA: Village virgins hear me out. My husband is... [Kong puts her down and cups his hand over her mouth]

KONG: God, how did I manage to put up with that mouth of yours! [she shakes loose and grabs whip from Theseus]

FA: You never said that when the moistened lips of which were ready to receive your kisses until you transformed to your primal state. [She snaps whip] Now, off to the pond with you.

MANCHILD: I guess she means it, dad.

FA: Shut up, son of Kong! Children should definitely not be heard—I question that they should even be seen. [aside] Oh, Zeus, have mercy on the parents of the rocky, punky, funky rolling age!

HEL: My father Zeus, she's mouthing oracularly already!

SON/KONG: [stunned] Y...yes, my dearest mother and wonder woman.

FA: Now, Kong, your despicable behavior may be overlooked if you opt to join Theseus in his venture to forge a great city of democracy for women...uh, that is, for persons....And what of your son? Obviously you prefer that Dedalus remain a romping primitive with Artemis, forever denied the gifts of Hephaestus and Prometheus.

KONG: Aw, shucks, Faye, what do you want to complicate life for? We were doing so swell together.

FA: Together? You're a stand up comic, you know that? Of course, you don't [looks out at audience] you have no audience; your ignorance bored them. [she drops the whip and turns to exit]

KONG: Hold on a minute,...please.

FA: [aside] Again the gods deceive my ears—surely a softened 'please' uttered by my husband could not have been a real event.

KONG: Think a minute...of all the problems: ghettos, demonstrations, big business, politics, Dionysian orgies [aside]—hmm. [rubs beard; grins dirty; shakes off thought] Is it really worth the change, to repeat the mistake of Adam and Eve?

FA: What do you know of them?

KONG: Oh, some Jewish feller was wandering in the woods today, scraping the soil for gold, muttering something like an unlikely image of god, then he happened on to a fig tree and shouted to the firmament "O why couldn't Adam and Eve be content with these tasty little items instead of biting off more than they could chew?"

FA: Ah, thank the gods—or their god—for that! You see, Eve is more than the equivalent of Rhea, the godmothers of all; she actually issued forth enlightenment—sort of Promethean; but with moral undertones.

KONG: Don't tell me she 's been talking to you, too! Well, anyway... this Jewish fellow raved on something like: if they hadn't taken the fruit, man would be able to pocket all the profits instead of having to endure the rising costs of managing a household, together with concubinage, whatever that means. But I gathered he was talking about simpler times.

FA: Simpler times, is it? He meant when women were but an afterthought— even in his God's mind, not to mention man's, just a bone to chew on— bereft of respect due, submissive as a dog, and responsive as a harlot. [she seductively flaunts her body about, puckers her lips] Perhaps in the rarest of moments that's still possible—but not for you! [she starts to leave]

KONG: Theseus, son of Aegeus and that most fine personage, mother Aethrea, let us be off to that golden arch city of yours. [He clasps the hand of Theseus and they begin to march off]

HEL: Ahem, gentle persons, don't get carried away.

TH: Oh, of course, gentle-persons, forgive us. [They step aside to allow the women to lead the way. Son of Kong tries to catch up with his mother, but Kong slaps his behind]

KONG: Brat! Get in the back, Dedalus. Children should not be seen.

SON/KONG: Bu...but am I not a person, too?

TH: We haven't turned that page in history, though countless numbers of you will from time to think you've grown up before your time.

¹ All hope abandoned who enters here.

 ² Mine today; yours tomorrow, man of wit.