Home is the Hunter

Home is the Hunter Read Free Page A

Book: Home is the Hunter Read Free
Author: Helen MacInnes
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entered, closing the bedroom door quietly behind her. She stands there, watching the two maids. She is an extremely beautiful woman in her early thirties. Her dress is a simple grey wool robe.)
    AMARYLLIS
(Frightened now, and very subdued)
    Good morning, Penelope.
    PENELOPE
    Good morning, Amaryllis.
(She doesn’t move from the bronze door. AMARYLLIS goes out quickly. Then PENELOPE comes forward, slowly. Her voice is calm, almost lifeless.)
    Good morning, Clia.
    CLIA
    Morning.
(She watches PENELOPE worriedly as she wanders around the room.)
    That Amaryllis—she’s getting too brash.
    PENELOPE
    So I heard.
(She is now standing at the embroidery frame, looking at it gloomily.)
    CLIA
    You heard everything?
    PENELOPE
    It wasn’t difficult.
(She gives a short, bitter laugh.)
    So we are too old, are we? That’s our trouble?
    CLIA
    Now, now... Here’s your breakfast. Where will you have it? At the window?
(She lays the tray, as she speaks, on the side table, and pulls it nearer to the window.)
    Look, it’s a fine bright morning. Good sailing weather, Penelope.
    PENELOPE
    Except, there isn’t any ship.
    CLIA
    Why, there are a lot of ships down in the harbour this morning. I saw three fishing boats headed straight for this island, even before the sun came rising out of the sea.
    PENELOPE
(Turning her back on the window)
    But not the ship bringing my husband.
    CLIA
    Ulysses could have been on one of those boats!
    PENELOPE
(Suddenly coming to life as she faces CLIA )
    You’ve told me that too often. This is the last morning you are to talk of ships. The last morning, d’you hear?
    CLIA
    Penelope! You aren’t giving up hope?
    PENELOPE
(Dejected)
    I—I don’t know...
(She sits down on the stool in front of the embroidery frame. Her body droops.)
    CLIA
    But you can’t give up hope!
    PENELOPE
    It’s hope that has given me up.
    CLIA
    But hope is life...
    PENELOPE
    And what kind of life do I have?
    CLIA
    You’re young—
    PENELOPE
    Too old to be kissed, according to Amaryllis.
    CLIA
    You’re still beautiful—
    PENELOPE
(Wryly)
    Still? Thank you...
    CLIA
    My, you’ve had a bad night, haven’t you? Come on. Eat something and you’ll feel much better. Look, here’s clover honey—you always liked that—and wheat cakes.
(She fusses with the tray.)
    I can remember the first morning I ever served you breakfast in this room... Your hair was as gold as the sun streaming in that window.
    PENELOPE
(Sitting in front of the breakfast tray, but still not touching it)
    At least, the sun hasn’t changed.
    CLIA
(Quickly)
    Just fifteen you were, then. Slender as a willow branch. Eyes as blue as a bed of iris.
    PENELOPE
(Almost smiling)
    That was the morning I awoke saying, “Why, I’m a grown-up woman! I’m old, at last!”
(She shakes her head in amusement.)
    CLIA
    That was the morning you got honey all over your fingers, and you licked them when you thought Ulysses wasn’t looking. But he was noticing everything you did—sitting over in that chair, he was—
(She points to the large chair, upstage right.)
    and he let out a roar of laughter. Remember how he used to laugh?
    PENELOPE
    Don’t... Don’t!
    CLIA
    And you looked up at him, and the colour spread over your cheeks, and you began to laugh, too. Then I knew you were the right wife for Ulysses.
    PENELOPE
(Rising abruptly)
    Stop it, Clia, stop it!
(She begins to pace around the room.)
    So you knew I was the right wife for Ulysses! How can I be any kind of wife if I have no husband?
    CLIA
    Now, now—
    PENELOPE
    Seventeen years of waiting... Seventeen years since he went off to fight.
    CLIA
    I know, I know... It was a long war.
    PENELOPE
    Ten years long. Where’s your arithmetic, Clia? Ten from seventeen leaves a lot of waiting.
(Her anger changes to fear.)
    Doesn’t Ulysses ever want to see our island again? Or his son? Or me?
(She begins to weep.)
    CLIA
(Comforting PENELOPE )
    Ulysses will come home. Put that fear out of your mind. He will come back—just wait and

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