ACT III
The same wild scene as in the first act, though there are now some traces of orderliness. Near one of the huts stands a Roman in a lazy attitude, blissfully picking his nose. In the background, at the left, the army of husbands is seen marching with concentrated attention in the same manner as before: two steps forward, one step backward. The Roman, on catching sight of them, shows at first signs of animation, and, ceasing to attend to his nose, watches them with goodnatured curiosity. The slowness of their movements, however, apparently makes him drowsy. He yawns, stretches languidly, and seats himself leisurely on a stone. At a signal from Ancus Martius the trumpets cease.
Martius. [In a tone of despair] Halt, Sabines! Halt, will you?
The Sabines halt as if rooted to the spot.
Martius. Come, halt, will you? Oh, Heavens! Will nothing hold back this falling avalanche? Will nothing— Thank God, they have halted! Attention! Trumpeters, to the rear! Professors, to the front. The rest, attention!
The Trumpeters withdraw, the Professors advance. The rest stand as if fettered.
Martius. Professors, make ready!
The Professors quickly squat down, unfold little tables, lay upon each table a thick book, and open the covers with a clatter. The effect is something like the firing of a field-battery. The Roman (it is Scipio), waking up, apparently becomes interested and inquires in a friendly manner: “What is the matter, gentlemen? What can I do for you? If this is a circus, I take the liberty to inform you that the Colosseum is not yet finished.”
Martius. [Calmly] Silence, base kidnapper! [To the Sabines] And now, Sabines, we have reached the wished-for goal. Behind us is the long path of privation, hunger, solitude, and canned fruit. Before us a struggle such as history has never known. Be inspired, Sabines, but control yourselves; be tranquil. Maintaining a spirit of natural indignation, calmly await the fated end. Recall, Sabines, why we have come here.
The Sabines are silent.
Martius. Come, recall, gentlemen! We surely did not come here with these huge books merely to take a walk! Come, recall, gentlemen. Why are we here?
Scipio. Come, come, gentlemen, recall.
Martius. [To Scipio] Just think of it, they’re always like that!
Scipio. You don’t mean it!
Martius. It’s a fact. They stand like graven images. They can do nothing but blink their eyes. Tell me, now— Can one deliver a first-class speech without resorting to the exclamation “Recall, gentlemen”?
Scipio. [Good-naturedly shaking his head] Well, scarcely. It would be a queer speech.
Martius. There! Of course it would. Even you understand that, but as for these fellows——
From the ranks of the Sabines comes a tremulous voice: “Oh, Proserpina, my darling, where art thou? O-o-o-oh!”
Scipio. [Puzzled] He must be recalling.
Martius. [Contemptuously] Oh, he is always recalling. [To the Sabines] Attention! We are now going to make a peremptory demand for our wives. Woe to the abductors if their conscience has not yet awakened! We will have the law of them. Oh, base abductor; summon your base companions and prepare for the dire penalty!
Scipio. I will call my wife at once.
He goes into the hut, calling: “Cleopatra! Come out, please; some one wants to see you on business!”
Paulus Emilius peeks from around the corner and, recognising the Sabines, shouts joyfully: “The husbands have come! The husbands have come! Ancient Romans, wake up! The husbands are here!”
He rushes to Martius and, with tears in his eyes, hangs upon his neck. Martius is nonplussed. Paulus hurries on, repeating the joyous cry: “The husbands are here!”
The drowsy Romans crawl out of their huts and take up a position on the right side of the stage. Martius, in a dramatic pose, haughtily waits until they are assembled.
The Fat Roman. By Bacchus! I have had as delightful a sleep as on the day we founded Rome. What’s that row of dummies?
First Roman. Sh! That’s the husbands.
The Fat Roman. Heavens, but I’m thirsty! Proserpina, my pet, bring me some cider!
From the ranks of the Sabines comes a faint cry: “Proserpina! O-o-o-oh!”
The Fat Roman. What does he want? Is he, too, calling my wife?
First Roman. Sh! That’s her husband.
The Fat Roman. Oh, I forgot! Heavens, but I am thirsty! After that hot porridge and a sound sleep I could drink a lake dry. And what porridge Proserpina can make! Really, Romans, it is a gift of the gods!
First Roman. Sh!
The Fat Roman. The deuce, I forgot! But I had the queerest dream just now. I thought I was asleep and suddenly I saw Rome beginning to fall, fall, fall—and then it fell.
First Roman. But how about our wives? Although they have callers, they do not appear. It’s an awkward situation.
Second Roman. Probably they are dressing.
First Roman. Oh, woman, thy name is vanity! One might expect them to say, “Pooh! it’s only my late husband!” but no, they can’t escape the eternal feminine. Really, the psychology of woman is beyond me!
The Fat Roman. Heavens, but I am thirsty! How long are those Egyptian mummies going to stand there? They have trumpets. They might at least strike up a tune. Look! Look! They move!
Martius. Romans, at last we stand face to face. I trust that, setting aside all dissimulation, you will give us a direct and honest answer. Do you recall, Romans, the deed you committed on the night between the 20th and the 21st of April?
The Romans look at one another in embarrassed silence.
Martius. Come, recall! Is it possible you cannot recall? Try to recall, gentlemen. I assure you, I shall not stir a step until you recall.
The Fat Roman. [Terrified, whispers to another] Maybe you can remember, Agrippa? It must have been something important, huh?
Remarks by the Romans: “No, I can’t remember anything.” “I must have lost my memory while I was asleep.” “I’d better go; you can tell me about it afterward.” “Really, what does he want?”
Martius. [In a loud voice] Then I will remind you, Romans. On the night between the 20th and 21st of April there was committed the greatest crime known to history. Certain individuals—I will disclose their identity later—villainously abducted our wives, the beautiful Sabine women.
The Romans, remembering, confirm the statement with joyful noddings of the head: “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” “Ho! That’s what is on foot!” “Perfectly true. ’Twas the 20th of April.”
The Fat Roman. [Deeply impressed] These Sabines have heads!
Martius. And you were the abductors, Romans! Oh, I know you will attempt to justify yourselves. You will distort the facts. You will basely pervert the legal norms, taking refuge in that abominable casuistry which is inevitably linked with every violation of right. But we are prepared. Professors, begin!
The Professor at the end of the line begins speaking in a monotonous voice that seems to come from beyond the bounds of space and time: “Concerning Crimes against Property; volume one, division one, chapter one, page one, entitled On the Subject of Robbery in General. In very ancient times, far more ancient than the present time, when birds, insects, and beetles fearlessly hopped about in the sunlight and no violations of justice entered into their consciousness, inasmuch as there was no consciousness—in those remote times——”
Martius. Attention, Romans, attention!
Scipio. Can’t you make it shorter?
Martius. Can’t be done.
Scipio. But your hearers will go to sleep.
Martius. Do you think so?
Scipio. Why, as you see, they are already dozing, and when they are dozing they don’t hear anything. Can’t you begin at the other end, eh? Come, be so good as to say straight out what you want.
Martius. In sooth, this is a strange argument! But be it so. Condescending to the weakness of your friends, I will tell you directly that we want to prove to you that you were wrong when you abducted our wives, and that you Romans are abductors, and that by no subtleties of sophistry will you succeed in justifying your base act! Even the heavens will shudder!
Scipio. Really, really, my dear fellow, we don’t even deny it.
Martius. You don’t? Then why have we come here?
Scipio. I don’t know. Perhaps you were out for a stroll.
Martius. No, we came on purpose to prove these things to you. It’s very odd. Then you agree that you are abductors?
Scipio. Unreservedly. And I find the word “abductors” very appropriate.
Martius. But perhaps you are not thoroughly convinced of it? In that case the professor is quite ready—Aren’t you, Professor? Are you not quite ready to——
Scipio. Oh, no! You mustn’t. We are thoroughly convinced. Romans, back me up or he will begin again!
Romans. Agreed, agreed!
Martius. Well, then, what’s all this about?
Scipio. I don’t know.
Martius. Here is a strange misunderstanding. Sabines, celebrate your triumph! They confess their guilt. The mere appearance of our threatening preparations has awakened in them the powerful voice of legal conscience, and Heaven itself has shuddered. It only remains for us, in the consciousness of having performed our duty, to return and——
A Trembling Voice. But my Proserpina?
Martius. Ah, yes! Inappropriate though your expression may be, you have the right idea—quite right, my friend. Romans, here is a complete and accurate list of the names of our wives. Be so kind as to return them to us. For all loss, all damage—what’s the wording of your law there, Professor?
Professor. Tare and tret.
Martius. No, no! “Injury!” Yes, for every injury you will be held responsible. Read the entire section, Professor. However—here are our wives. Attention, Sabines! Maintain your self-control, I beseech you. Restrain the outburst of passion until the question of justice is settled—Two steps forward, one step backward! Halt! Greetings to you, Sabine wives! Welcome, Cleopatra!
The Women with eyes downcast and modest aspect, dignified and yet submissive, occupy the centre of the stage.
Cleopatra. [Without raising her eyes] If you have come to scold, Ancus Martius, let me tell you that we do not deserve your reproaches. We struggled long and did not yield except on compulsion. I swear to you, beloved Martius, I have not for a single moment ceased to weep for you.
She weeps and, taking her cue, all the Sabine Women weep.
Martius. Calm yourself, Cleopatra. They have already confessed that they are abductors. Let us now return to our household gods, Cleopatra.
Cleopatra. [Without raising her eyes] I fear that you will scold us, but we have become accustomed to this location. Don’t you like these hills, Martius?
Martius. I don’t understand you, Cleopatra. What have the hills to do with it?
Cleopatra. I fear you will be angry, but, really, we are not to blame. I have already wept for you in due form, Martius, and now I cannot understand at all what you want. More tears? Oh, as many as you like. My dear friends, they think we have not wept enough for them. Let us show them their error. Oh, weep, weep, my dear friends! I loved you so, Martius!
The Women shed rivers of tears.
Scipio. Calm yourself, Cleopatra. Excitement is bad for you now. And you, sir, do you hear? Go back home. Come, Cleopatra, lie down and rest. I will look after the soup myself.
Martius. And what has the soup to do with it, I should like to know? Calm yourself, Cleopatra, there is some misunderstanding here. Apparently you do not understand that you are abducted.
Cleopatra. [Weeping] There, I told you you were going to scold! Scipio, deary, have you my handkerchief?
Scipio. Here it is, precious.
Martius. But I should like to know what the handkerchief has to do with it.
Cleopatra. [Weeping] What a fuss to make about a handkerchief! I cannot get on without a handkerchief when I am crying, and it is all your fault. You are a cruel monster, Ancus Martius!
They all weep, Sabine Women, Sabine Men, and even several of the Romans.
The Voice. Proserpina! O-o-o-oh!
Martius. [In a sonorous voice] Calm yourselves, Sabines. Control yourselves. Don’t move; I’ll settle everything in a jiffy. There apparently is some misunderstanding of a legal nature. This unhappy woman thinks she is accused of stealing a handkerchief and does not even dream that she herself is stolen. We will prove this to her. Professors, begin.
The Professors make preparations. The Romans are horror-stricken. Scipio seizes Cleopatra by the hand.
Scipio. Own up, Cleopatra! Come, be quick! Heavens, he will begin in a moment!
Cleopatra. I have nothing to confess. It is all slander.
Martius. Professor, we are waiting.
Scipio. Come, hurry, own up! Oh, Heavens, he is already opening his mouth! He will have it open in a minute! Sabines! Wait! She has confessed! Shut your mouth, Professor, she has confessed!
Cleopatra. Very well, I confess. [To the Women] My dear friends, do you confess, too?
Scipio. [Hastily] Yes, they all confess. Everything is all right.
Martius. [In perplexity] One moment, sir, if you please. Cleopatra, do you admit that you and the other Sabine women were abducted on the night between the 20th and the 21st of April? Do you?
Cleopatra. [Spitefully] No, we ran away of ourselves.
Martius. There, you see! She doesn’t understand. Mr. Profes——
Cleopatra. That’s mean of you, Martius. You overslept. You did not defend us; you gave us up; you forgot us; you abandoned us; and now you accuse us of running away. We were abducted, Martius, basely abducted. You can read about it in any Roman history, to say nothing [weeping] of the encyclopedia.
Scipio. [Shouting] Come, shut your mouth, Professor!
But the Professor’s mouth remains open. The Romans are thrown into a panic, and some rush off the stage.
Martius. Romans, Sabines, attention! I will remove the difficulty in a moment. There is some misunderstanding of a mechanical nature. Allow me to inspect you, Professor. Why, to be sure. I might have known it. The hinge is broken and he cannot shut his mouth. No matter. We will fix it up when we get home. For the present it is enough that they admit they were abducted. I have heard it with my own ears. Our goal is attained, and Heaven itself has shuddered. Let us go back to our household gods, Cleopatra.
Cleopatra. I don’t want to go back to our household gods.
The Sabine Women. Rubbish about your household gods! We don’t want to go back to our household gods. We are going to stay here. They are insulting us! They are getting ready to abduct us! Save us, help, defend us!
The Romans with clattering weapons take a position between the Women and the Sabines and gradually crowd the Women into the background. They cast angry glances at the Sabines.
Voices. To arms, Romans! To the defence of your wives! To arms, Romans!
Martius. [Ringing his bell] What is the matter? There will be a fight here in a minute. My brain is in a whirl. Sabines, my brain is in a whirl.
Proserpina. [Coming forward and speaking in a slow, calm voice] Don’t get excited, Romans, I will speak with Martius alone.
From the ranks of the Sabines comes a quavering voice, a mournful call of love: “Proserpina, my darling, o-o-o-o-oh!”
Proserpina. [Coolly] Ah, my dove! How are you? Come here, Ancus Martius, and don’t be afraid; your army won’t run away. Do you understand that neither your wife, Cleopatra, nor we other Sabine women wish to go home? Do you understand that?
Martius. I am dazed. How can I live without Cleopatra? I cannot live without Cleopatra! She is my perfectly legal wife. Do you think she won’t come back on any terms?
Proserpina. Not on any terms.
Martius. What am I to do? You see that I love her. How can I live without her? [He weeps.
Proserpina. Cheer up, Martius. [She whispers] I am sorry for you, and I will tell you as a secret that there is only one means, one solitary means left—abduct her!
Martius. But will she come?
Proserpina. [Shrugging her shoulders] How can she help coming if you abduct her?
Martius. But that would be wicked. You are suggesting to me that I commit violence. What would then become of my legal conscience, or can it be that you women believe that might is right? Oh, woman, woman!
Proserpina. Oh, we have heard “Woman, woman!” before. It was a leaden day when the gods made you, Martius. You are unutterably stupid. If I am to remain faithful, I want a strong man, the strongest man there is. Do you think we are so fond of being abducted and stolen, and asked back and returned, and lost and found, and——
The Voice. Proserpina, my darling, o-o-o-oh!
Proserpina. Yes, my dear. How are you—? And to have people deal with us as if we were things. I no sooner get accustomed to one man than along comes another and carries me away, and I no sooner get accustomed to the new man than the old one appears and says: “Come back.” Really, Martius, if, as you protest, you want your wife to be your own, then all you have to do is to be the strongest. Give in to no one, struggle for her tooth and nail. In short, die in her defence. Believe me, Martius, there is no greater joy for a woman than to die upon the grave of a husband who has fallen in her defence. And be assured, Martius, that a woman proves false only after her husband has proved false.
Martius. But they have swords and we are weaponless.
Proserpina. Get swords!
Martius. But they have strong muscles and we have not.
Proserpina. Get strong! Oh, Martius, you are an impenetrable fool!
Martius. [Springing away from her] And you are a trifling and silly woman. Long live the law! Let them take my wife from me by brute violence; let them ruin my home; let them extinguish my hearth; I shall never prove false to the law. Let the whole world laugh at the unfortunate Sabines, they will not prove false to the law. Virtue commands respect, even in rags. Sabines, retreat! Weep, Sabines, weep bitter tears! Sob, beat your breasts, and be not ashamed of tears. Let them stone us, let them mock us, but weep! Let them besmear us with mud! Weep, Sabines; you are weeping for the scorned and down-trampled law. Forward, Sabines. Attention! Trumpeters, strike up the march. Two steps forward, one step backward; two steps forward, one step backward.
The Women begin to weep.
Cleopatra. Martius, wait!
Martius. Avaunt, woman, I know thee not! Slow march!
The trumpets set up a mournful wail. The Women, weeping and wailing loudly, are drawn toward their former husbands, but the Romans hold them back by force. Laughter on the part of the victors. Paying no attention either to the tears or the laughter, but bending under the weight of the laws, the Sabines slowly withdraw; two steps forward, one step backward.