ACT I
A wild, rugged spot, at daybreak. As the sun rises, armed Romans enter from the hills, dragging with them the beautiful but dishevelled Sabine Women. The latter resist, scream, and scratch—all but one, who, perfectly quiet, seems to have fallen asleep in the arms of the Roman who carries her. The captors, groaning with the pain of their scratches, quickly drop the Women in a heap and, hastily retreating, rearrange their clothing. They pant as if exhausted. The screaming subsides. The Women, watching suspiciously the movements of the men, also set themselves to rights. They whisper and chatter in low tones.
First Roman. By Hercules! I’m as wet as a muskrat. I’ll wager my woman weighed four hundred pounds at least.
Second Roman. You needn’t have picked the biggest of the lot. For my part, I chose a thin little thing, and——
First Roman. What’s happened to your face? You don’t mean to say that thin little thing——
Second Roman. Wow! She scratches like a cat.
First Roman. They all scratch like cats. I have been in a hundred battles. I have been hacked with swords, beaten with clubs, bruised with stones. Gates and walls have fallen on me, but this is the worst yet. My Roman nose is a wreck.
Third Roman. If I hadn’t been clean shaved in the ancient Roman fashion, there wouldn’t be a hair left on my face. You know what nice, slender fingers and what amazingly sharp nails they have. Well, talk about cats! Cats is no name for them. Mine never said a word, but all the way she just plucked out the down.
A Tall, Fat Roman. [Speaks in a bass voice] Mine got her hands under my breastplate and tickled me in the armpits so that I laughed the whole way.
A low, contemptuous laugh from the Women.
First Roman. Sh! They can hear us.
Second Roman. Come, gentlemen; stop your whining and spruce up. It would be a pity for the ladies to lose their respect for us on this very first day. Just look at Emilius Paulus. There’s a man who keeps up his dignity.
Third Roman. Radiant as Aurora!
Fourth Roman. By Hercules! Not a scratch on him. How did you manage it, Paulus?
Paulus. [With feigned modesty] Oh, I don’t know. She clung to me from the start as if I were her husband. You astonish me, gentlemen. Why, it was simplicity itself. When I took her up she spontaneously threw her arms about my neck. The only danger was that she would hug me to death. Her arms may be slender, but they are strong.
First Roman. There’s luck for you.
Paulus. Simplicity itself, I tell you. Her innocent, confiding little heart told her that I loved her truly and respected her. Half the way she slept like a weary child, though you, of course, won’t believe that.
The Fat Roman. Pardon me, gentlemen, but how are we going to tell which is which? Having stolen them in the dark like chickens from a hen-coop——
From the group of Women comes the indignant exclamation: “What a disgusting comparison!”
First Roman. Sh! They can hear us.
The Fat Roman. [Lowering his voice an octave] Well, how are we to pick them out? Mine was a very jolly sort, and I shan’t give her up to anybody. And, anyway, I’m not going to let people tread on my toes.
Second Roman. Chucklehead!
Third Roman. I shall know mine by her voice. I shan’t forget her screaming, come Christmas.
Fourth Roman. I shall know mine by her nails.
Scipio. And I shall know mine by the wonderful fragrance of her hair.
Paulus. And I mine by the modesty and beauty of her soul. O Romans! We stand on the threshold of a new life. Tedious solitude, farewell! Farewell, interminable nights, with your accursed nightingales! Let the nightingale sing now, or any other bird—I’m ready.
The Fat Roman. Yes, it is time that we entered on the domestic stage of life.
Ironical exclamations from the Women: “Oh, yes! Why don’t you try it? Come on!”
First Roman. Sh! They can hear us.
Second Roman. It’s high time—high time, I say.
Third Roman. Gentlemen, who goes first?
Silence. All stand motionless. Low, mocking laughter on the part of the Women.
The Fat Roman. For my part, I’ve had all the tickling I want. Let some one else try it. And, anyway, I’m not going to let any one tread on my toes. Here, Paulus, you go.
Paulus. Brute! Don’t you see that my darling is still asleep? Look—that dark clump there under the stones—that’s she. O innocent soul!
Scipio. Gentlemen, it is apparent from your attitude of indecision and from your confusion—a wholly justified confusion, I may say—that no one of you has the courage to approach these merciless creatures. Now, here is my plan——
The Fat Roman. Wise head!
Scipio. Here, I say, is my plan. Let us advance in a body, and quite leisurely, each one hiding himself behind the others. Certainly, if we were not afraid of their husbands——
The Fat Roman. Their husbands! Bosh!
Deep sighs from the Women and demonstrative weeping.
First Roman. Sh! They can hear us.
Scipio. There you go again, Mark Antony, with that mouth of yours. We must avoid this unlucky word husband. You see how it works on the feelings of these poor women. Well, gentlemen, do you agree to my plan?
The Romans. Agreed! Agreed!
Scipio. Well, then, gentlemen——
The Romans prepare for the attack, the Women prepare to defend themselves. In the place of lovely faces are seen sharp finger-nails, ready to bury themselves in face and hair. A low, hissing is heard, as of snakes. The Romans advance in accordance with their plan; that is, each one hides himself behind some one else, with the result that they all fall back and take shelter in the wings. The Women laugh. The Romans return to their places in confusion.
First Roman. It looks as if there were some flaw in your plan, Scipio. As Socrates would say, we advanced backward.
The Fat Roman. I can’t make head or tail of it.
Paulus. Courage, gentlemen. What is a scratch or two? Once we have reached the goal, oh, what bliss! Forward, Romans! To the attack!
The Romans, with the exception of Paulus, who gazes dreamily at the heavens, rush upon the Women in a disorderly crowd, but, after a moment of silent struggling, retreat hastily. Silence. The Romans all rub their noses.
Scipio. [Speaking through his nose] Did you notice, gentlemen, that they didn’t even scream? A bad omen! I prefer a screamer.
First Roman. What’s to be done now?
Second Roman. How I long for a domestic life!
Third Roman. And I for a family hearthstone. What is life without a family hearthstone? Now that Rome’s founded—hang it all—I’d like a little rest.
The Fat Roman. Unfortunately, gentlemen, not a single one of us understands the psychology of the other sex. Busied with wars and the founding of Rome, we have become crude, we have lost our polish, we have forgotten what a woman is——
Paulus. [Modestly] Not all of us.
Scipio. However, from the fact that these women once had husbands—whom we routed yesterday—I draw the conclusion that there exists some means, some mysterious method, of approaching a woman whom you do not know. But how find out what it is?
The Fat Roman. Suppose we ask the women themselves.
First Roman. They won’t tell.
Spiteful laughter among the Women.
Second Roman. Sh! They can hear us.
Scipio. Well, now, I’ve thought of a plan——
The Fat Roman. Wise head!
Scipio. As for our charming captives, it strikes me, gentlemen, that far from our capturing them, they have captured us. Busied in scratching our faces, tearing out our hair, and tickling us in the armpits, they obviously cannot hear us. Not being able to hear us, they are not open to persuasion. Not being open to persuasion, they are not persuaded. So there you are!
Repeating “So there you are!” the Romans fall into a state of gloomy meditation. The Women listen attentively.
Scipio. Well, here is my plan. Let us, in accordance with military custom, select an envoy from our number, and ask our fair opponents to do the same. The representatives of the warring factions, being thus in complete security [he feels of his nose] under the protection of the white flag, will be able, if I may employ a Latin expression, to reach a modus vivendi, and then——
The Romans interrupt this brilliant speech with loud hurrahs. Scipio, being unanimously elected envoy, raises the white flag and cautiously approaches the Women, at the same time calling over his shoulder: “Don’t get too far away, fellows.”
Scipio. [In an ingratiating tone] Fair ladies—please stay where you are, ladies, you see I’m under the protection of the white flag, and the white flag, I assure you, is sacred, and my person is inviolable—it really is— Fair ladies! Although it was only yesterday that we had the pleasure of capturing you, already there have arisen between us disagreements, feuds, and strange misunderstandings.
Cleopatra. What impudence! Just because you have tied a white rag to a stick you needn’t think you can make these insulting speeches.
Scipio. [In a conciliatory tone] Mercy me! Insulting speeches? Quite the contrary. I am delighted—that is to say, we are all of us perfectly miserable. [With the courage of despair] I swear by Hercules we are dead in love with you. Madam, since you seem to sympathise with us, I venture to ask a slight favour. Please select from your number, as we have done, an envoy——
Cleopatra. Oh, we know. We have already heard of it. You needn’t repeat.
Scipio. Why, we hardly spoke above a whisper.
Voices of the Women. Well, we heard, just the same.
Cleopatra. You go back with that rag where you belong, and wait. We are going to talk this matter over. No—farther off, if you please. No eavesdropping. Who is that suckling yonder with his mouth wide open? [Pointing at the dreaming Paulus] Take him away, please.
The Romans. [Whispering to one another] Now we’re getting on.
They withdraw on tiptoe, some showing their good faith by plugging their ears.
First Sabine Woman. How impudent! How insulting! What odious tyranny! Oh, our poor husbands!
Second Sabine Woman. I swear I’ll scratch out a thousand eyes before I will be disloyal for one instant to my unhappy husband. Sleep sweetly, my beloved. In the keeping of this brave heart your honour is safe.
Third Sabine Woman. I also swear.
Fourth Sabine Woman. And I.
Cleopatra. Alas, my dear companions, we can all of us swear, but what’s the use? These rude, uncultured men are no respecters of oaths. Take my captor, for instance. Although I bit his nose——
First Sabine Woman. Oh, do you remember yours?
Cleopatra. [Spitefully] I shall remember him to my dying day. He smelled of breastplates and swords and all the other things that go with a coarse soldier. And he was so careless about squeezing me. Oh, my poor, dear husband!
First Sabine Woman. Well, they all have that soldiery smell.
Second Sabine Woman. And they all squeeze like bears. Probably it is the military fashion.
Third Sabine Woman. When I was a little girl I remember a soldier boy came to our house and said he was from a far-off country where——
Cleopatra. Ladies, this is no place for reminiscences.
Third Sabine Woman. But this soldier boy I was telling you about——
Cleopatra. My dear Juno, what in Venus’s name have we to do with your soldier when every one of us has on her neck a soldier of her own? Now, my dears, what is to be done? Here is my proposition——
Veronica. [Who has awakened, approaches. She is thin and impressively tall. Languidly, her eyes half closed, she interrupts Cleopatra] Where are they? Why are they so far off? I wish they would come nearer. I am ashamed when they are not by me. All this time I have been in a trance, and now I cannot find the young man who carried me. He smelt like a soldier.
Cleopatra. There he stands, with his mouth wide open.
Veronica. I will go to him. I am consumed with shame.
Cleopatra. Hold her back! Why, Veronica, can it be that you have already forgotten your poor, dear husband?
Veronica. I swear I will never cease to love him. But why do we not go to our captors—or perhaps you are planning something else, my dears? For my part, I am ready for any fate. Let them come to us. Men are insufferably familiar as soon as you cease being angry with them.
Cleopatra. Well, my dears, my first suggestion is that we take an oath never to betray our dear, unhappy husbands. However our captors may treat us, we shall remain firm as the Tarpeian rock. When I think how lonely my husband is, how he vainly calls me to his empty bed, “Cleopatra, where art thou, Cleopatra”; when I remember how he loved me—[The Women all weep] Come, my dears, let us swear. They are waiting for us, you know.
Sabine Women. We swear. We swear. Whatever they may do to us, we will not betray our husbands.
Cleopatra. There! My mind is at rest so far as the husbands are concerned. Sleep, beloved; sleep in peace. And now, ladies, the next thing is to choose an envoy as the Romans suggest, and let her——
First Sabine Woman. Scratch his eyes out.
Second Sabine Woman. No, let her give the rascal a piece of her mind. They think we can do nothing but scratch; let them hear how we can talk.
Veronica. [Shrugging her lean shoulders] What is the use of talking when they have us in their power?
Cleopatra. Stop her! Ah, Veronica, might is not right, whatever Roman law may say. Make me your envoy, and I will convince our captors that they have no right to detain us, that they are in duty bound to let us go, that according to divine law, or human law, or any other law, as they say in Rome, they have acted like perfect swine.
Voices of Women. Go, Cleopatra; do go.
First Sabine Woman. Stop Veronica.
Cleopatra. Hello, there, you envoy with the white rag! Come here, please. I want to talk with you.
Scipio. Shall I remove my sword?
Cleopatra. Never mind. Why should you? You needn’t think we are afraid of your swords. Come, now, don’t be frightened. I shan’t bite. You weren’t timid yesterday night when you broke into our peaceful home and rudely tore me from the arms of my poor husband. Well, come on, if you are coming.
Scipio approaches cautiously. The Romans and the Sabine Women arrange themselves at right and left of the stage in two symmetrical groups and follow the parley attentively.
Scipio. I am charmed, madam——
Cleopatra. Charmed, indeed! Let me tell you that you are a scoundrel, a lunatic, a brigand, a thief. Oh, you murderer, you miscreant, you monster, you scum! What you have done is blasphemous, disgusting, abominable, unheard of.
Scipio. Madam!
Cleopatra. You sicken me. You make my flesh creep. I can’t bear the sight of you. You smell like a soldier. If your nose were not covered with scratches, I would——
Scipio. Pardon me. You did the scratching.
Cleopatra. I? Then you are the man who— [Looks at him contemptuously] Excuse me. I didn’t recognise you.
Scipio. [Joyfully] But I recognised you instantly. Your hair smells of verbena; doesn’t it, now?
Cleopatra. None of your business what it smells of. Verbena perfume is as good as any other.
Scipio. Just what I meant.
Cleopatra. I don’t care what you meant. I’ve said nothing about your odours. And, anyway, why all this silly gabble about smells? I beg you, my dear sir, as a man of honour, to come to the point. What do you want of us?
Scipio modestly lowers his eyes, but, unable to hold himself in, snickers behind his hand. All the Romans snicker and the Women bridle.
Cleopatra. [Blushing] Snickering is no answer. You’re just horrid! I ask you, what do you want of us? I suppose you know that we are already married.
Scipio. How shall I put it, madam? We are ready to offer you our hands and hearts——
Cleopatra. What! You really mean it? Are you crazy?
Scipio. Look at us. We are no dandies from the Nevski. Having just founded Rome, we are eager to eternalise our— Put yourself in our place, madam, and have pity on us. Would you not pity your husbands if they woke up some fine morning and found their wives missing? We are lonely, madam.
The Fat Roman. Oh, so lonely.
Veronica. [Wiping her eyes] I’m so sorry for them.
Scipio. In the midst of war’s alarms, busied in the founding of Rome, we have let slip, so to speak, the moment when—Madam, we pity your husbands from the bottom of our hearts.
Cleopatra. [With dignity] I am pleased to hear you say so.
Scipio. But why the devil did they give you up?
The Romans joyfully support him with: “That’s right”; “You’ve struck it, Scipio”; but the Women show resentment and utter such exclamations as: “How mean of them!” “They’re insulting our husbands.” “The insinuating wretches!”
Cleopatra. [Drily] If you wish to go on with this parley, I beg of you to refer to our husbands with respect.
Scipio. With the greatest pleasure. But, madam, respect them as we may, we cannot but admit that they are unworthy of you. At this very moment, when your inhuman sufferings are pulling at our heart-strings, when the hot tears evoked by your bereavement are pouring forth like mountain brooks in spring, when the very stones, quivering with pity, moan and repine, when your charming noses, drenched with cruel tears, lose their wonted form and begin to swell——
Cleopatra. Nothing of the kind.
Scipio. When all nature, and so forth— Well, where are your husbands now? I don’t see them. They are invisible. They are absent. They have abandoned you. Shall I say, at the risk of offending, they have basely deserted you?
The Romans stand in a haughty pose, with arms akimbo. Excitement and tears on the part of the Women. The gentle voice of Proserpina is heard, saying: “Really, why are they not here? It’s high time.”
Cleopatra. All very fine, and your pose is certainly handsome, but suppose people should take it into their heads to come by night and steal us?
Scipio. We shall be on the alert all night long.
Cleopatra. Or in the daytime?
Scipio. Oh, you wouldn’t think of going in the daytime.
The languid voice of Veronica: “Why are they so far away? I am ashamed when they are so far away. I want them to come nearer.”
Whispers among the Women: “Make her keep still.”
Cleopatra. Well, of all the impudence! Still, I am sorry for you, and I really must confess to some respect and consideration for your sufferings, though your youth has led you astray. However, I shall now advance an argument that will at one blow shatter your air-castles and, I hope, put you to blush. How about the children, sir?
Scipio. Wh—what children?
Cleopatra. The children we have left at home.
Scipio. That, madam, is, I confess, a serious question. Permit me to withdraw for a moment in order to confer with my companions.
Cleopatra goes to the Women, Scipio to the men. They confer in whispers.
Scipio. Madam.
Cleopatra. What is it?
Scipio. After protracted consideration, my companions, the Ancient Romans, have instructed me to communicate to you that you will have new children.
Cleopatra. [Staggered] Oh, do you think so?
Scipio. We swear it. Gentlemen, swear!
The Romans swear in a discordant chorus.
Cleopatra. But the surroundings are very unattractive.
Scipio. [Offended] The surroundings?
Cleopatra. Yes. This is a horrid place—all mountains and ravines—simply impossible! What’s this stone doing here? Take it away, please.
Scipio. Oh, madam! [Carries the stone away.
Cleopatra. And such trees! I’m fairly stifled here. What is this stupid tree? But you are embarrassed, aren’t you? Permit me to withdraw. I suppose I must give you an answer.
Scipio. An answer? What to?
Cleopatra. Why, I thought you asked me a question.
Scipio. I? Pardon me, madam, I must be getting stupid. What did I ask you a question about?
Cleopatra. Do you mean to insult me?
Scipio. I?
Cleopatra. Yes, you. You said you were getting stupid.
Scipio. I?
Cleopatra. Certainly, I didn’t say so. You are forgetting yourself, sir.
Scipio. I?
Cleopatra. Well, anyway, I am going. And you, sir, had better spruce up a little if we are to continue to talk to one another. You are a sight. Haven’t you a handkerchief? Wipe your face. It is as sweaty as if you had been carrying stones all day long. [She makes as if to withdraw.
Scipio. Madam—allow me—I believe I did carry a stone or two, but the fact is you made me do it.
Cleopatra. I? Why, I never thought of such a thing.
Scipio. Begging your pardon, madam, what are we talking about?
Cleopatra. How should I know? That’s your affair, not mine.
Scipio. Evidently you’re making fun of me.
Cleopatra. Oh, you’ve noticed it?
Scipio. I won’t allow myself to be ridiculed.
Cleopatra. How can you prevent it?
Scipio. I’m still a bachelor, thank God!
Cleopatra. Aha! At last, “thank God!” Well said, my dear sir. A nice box we should have been in if we had trusted to your oaths. [To her companions] Do you hear? They are already thankful that we are not their wives.
Scipio. Heavens! This is unendurable. Either you stop making fun of me——
Cleopatra. Or else——
Scipio. Or else go home. Yes, madam, go home. This is the limit. By Hercules, we didn’t found Rome just for the sake of sticking fast, like flies in marmalade, in your absurd deliberations!
Cleopatra. Absurd?
Scipio. Yes, idiotic.
Cleopatra. [Weeping] You insult me.
Scipio. Good Lord! She’s crying. Madam, what do you want? Why did you pick on me? Ancient Roman though I am, this woman will positively drive me crazy. Stop your crying! I can’t make head or tail of this thing. I don’t even know what you are blubbering about.
Cleopatra. [Weeping] Will you let us go?
Scipio. Certainly, certainly. Friends, Romans, do you agree? I’m at the end of my rope.
Fat Roman. Yes, let them go. We’ll fetch some wives from Etruria.
Scipio. All right. These creatures are not women. They are——
Cleopatra. [Weeping] On your word of honour?
Scipio. What am I to do on my word of honour?
Cleopatra. You will let us go? Perhaps your promise is just a trick, and as soon as we start to go you will lay hold of us.
Scipio. No, no. Run along. Are you glued to the spot?
Cleopatra. [Weeping] Will you carry us back?
Scipio. Heavens and earth! What next?
Cleopatra. You know very well that having brought us here you are in honour bound to carry us back again. It’s a long way.
The Women laugh maliciously. Scipio, panting with anger, casts frenzied glances about, but, after trying in vain to say something, stamps his foot and goes back to his friends. All the Romans pointedly turn their backs to the Women, and sit in that position during the following scene. The Women confer quietly.
Cleopatra. You have heard, my dears; they are letting us go.
Veronica. How dreadful!
Second Sabine Woman. You might better say, “driving us away.” It’s simply maddening! Here they carry off perfectly innocent women—rouse the whole house in the middle of the night—turn all the furniture upside down—wake up the children—and then, if you please—don’t want us!
First Sabine Woman. And our poor husbands! Their sufferings are in vain.
Second Sabine Woman. Just think of it—in the night-time, when everybody was asleep!
Third Sabine Woman. Say, do you know the way back?
Fourth Sabine Woman. You don’t suppose, do you, that I was observing the road? Of course I don’t. I only know it is dreadfully far.
Third Sabine Woman. Well, it’s obvious they won’t carry us back.
Subdued laughter.
Veronica. [Moaning] Oh, my dear boy! See, they’ve made him turn his back to me! I am going to him.
First Sabine Woman. Wait a moment, Veronica. Your boy won’t leave you. We must talk this thing over.
Proserpina. I wonder whether, after all, it is not all the same what husbands we have, whether those or these. The others were all right and these are all right. I am sure, at least, that the very first thing mine will ask of me is to make him a hot porridge. I’d rather enjoy having a new husband. The old one is sick of my menu, but this gawk will enjoy it.
Cleopatra. For shame, Proserpina! History will condemn us.
Proserpina. A lot history will understand about our doings! And here in Rome it’s not so very bad, after all.
Cleopatra. You’re horrid, Proserpina. Just suppose they should be listening to us! But here’s my plan, my dears. Though we are, of course, going home at once to our dear, late husbands, it is a long walk, and we are tired.
First Sabine Woman. My nerves are completely shattered!
Second Sabine Woman. No constitution could stand it! All of a sudden in the middle of the night to wake up the whole house——
Cleopatra. So let’s stay here a day or two and rest. That will please them and commit us to nothing. Besides, when they see how cheerful and modest we are, our captors will find it easier to part with us. I confess, too, that I am a little sorry for mine. His nose is a sight.
Third Sabine Woman. But we’ll stay only two days!
Fourth Sabine Woman. One day will be enough for me. We’ll just take a little walk— Hurry, Cleopatra, I think they have already fallen asleep.
Cleopatra. [To Scipio] Sir!
Scipio. [Not turning around] What you want?
Cleopatra. Come here a moment, please.
Scipio. At your service, madam.
Cleopatra. We have decided to accept your kind offer and to go away at once. You are not angry?
Scipio. Not at all.
Cleopatra. But first we should like to rest a little. Will you let us stay here a day or so and rest? This is a lovely spot.
All the Romans simultaneously turn around and spring to their feet.
Scipio. [In ecstasy] Dear madam! What has the place to do with it, and what—? O Jupiter! Madam, I swear by Hercules, I swear by Venus, I swear by Bacchus! Madam, may I be thrice anathema if— I swear by Aphrodite! Gentlemen, Ancient Romans! Board the ship!
Cleopatra. I suggest that we take a little stroll.
Scipio. Oh, madam! Gentlemen, Romans! Foot-pace! Dress front! left, right; left, right! Column of twos! [He seizes Cleopatra by the arm and leads her toward the hills. At his command the Romans, each seizing a Sabine Woman, proudly march in file behind him.] Left, right; left, right! One, two; one, two!
Paulus Emilius. [Left dreaming alone upon the stage, rushes about, crying pitifully] Where is she? Gentlemen, Ancient Romans, wait! I have lost her. Where is she?
Veronica stands like a bride, her eyes modestly cast down.
Paulus. [Flying toward her blindly] Beg your pardon, madam, have you seen her?
Veronica. You stupid!
Paulus. I?
Veronica. Yes, stupid!
Paulus. Why, what are you scolding me for?
Veronica. Scolding you! You silly! Can’t you see? Oh, my darling boy! I have waited for you thirty years! Oh, take——
Paulus. Take what?
Veronica. Me. You see it is I, she— Oh, you stupid thing!
Paulus. You? No, you are not the right one.
Veronica. Yes, I am.
Paulus. No, you’re not. [He sits on the ground and weeps.
Veronica. See, they have left us alone, and I am ashamed. Come!
Paulus. [Weeps] You are not the right one.
Veronica. But I say I am, plague take you! Did any one ever see the like! My husband repeated that phrase, “You are the wrong one,” for thirty years, and now this suckling is at it. Give me your hand.
Paulus. [Gets up in terror] You are the wrong one. Oh, oh, oh, save me! She has captured me!
Curtain.