The Penelopiad: The Myth of Penelope and Odysseus

XXI. The Chorus Line: The Perils of Penelope, A Drama

Presented by: The Maids

Prologue: Spoken by Melantho of the Pretty Cheeks:

As we approach the climax, grim and gory

Let us just say: There is another story.

Or several, as befits the goddess Rumour,

Who’s sometimes in a good, or else bad, humour.

Word has it that Penelope the Prissy

Was—when it came to sex—no shrinking sissy!

Some said with Amphinomus she was sleeping.

Masking her lust with gales of moans and weeping;

Others, that each and every brisk contender

By turns did have the fortune to upend her,

By which promiscuous acts the goat-god Pan

Was then conceived, or so the fable ran.

The truth, dear auditors, is seldom certain

But let us take a peek behind the curtain!

Eurycleia: Played by a Maid:

Dear child! I fear you are undone! Alas!

The Master has returned! That’s right he’s back!

Penelope: Played by a Maid:

I knew him as he walked here from afar

By his short legs

Eurycleia:

And I by his long scar!

Penelope:

And now, dear Nurse, the fat is in the fire

He’ll chop me up for tending my desire!

While he was pleasuring every nymph and beauty,

Did he think I’d do nothing but my duty?

While every girl and goddess he was praising,

Did he assume I’d dry up like a raisin?

Eurycleia:

While you your famous loom claimed to be threading,

In fact you were at work within the bedding!

And now there’s ample matter for beheading!

Penelope:

Amphinomus—quick! Down the hidden stairs!

And I’ll sit here, and feign great woes and cares.

Do up my robe! Bind fast my wanton hair:

Which of the maids is in on my affairs?

Eurycleia:

Only the twelve, my lady, who assisted,

Know that the Suitors you have not resisted.

They smuggled lovers in and out all night;

They drew the drapes, and then they held the light.

They’re privy to your every lawless thrill

They must be silenced, or the beans they’ll spill!

Penelope:

Oh then, dear Nurse, it’s really up to you

To save me, and Odysseus’ honour too!

Because he sucked at your now-ancient bust,

You are the only one of us he’ll trust.

Point out those maids as feckless and disloyal,

Snatched by the Suitors as unlawful spoil,

Polluted, shameless, and not fit to be

The doting slaves of such a Lord as he!

Eurycleia:

We’ll stop their mouths by sending them to Hades

He’ll string them up as grubby wicked ladies!

Penelope:

And I in fame a model wife shall rest

All husbands will look on, and think him blessed!

But haste—the Suitors come to do their wooing,

And I, for my part, must begin boo-hooing!

The Chorus Line, in tap-dance shoes:

Blame it on the maids!

Those naughty little jades!

Hang them high and don’t ask why

Blame it on the maids!

Blame it on the slaves!

The toys of rogues and knaves!

Let them dangle, let them strai

Blame it on the slaves!

Blame it on the sluts!

Those poxy little scuts!

We’ve got the dirt on every ski

Blame it on the sluts!

They all curtsy.