Thy Brother's Wife by David Christner

This Play is the copyright of the Author and may not be performed, copied or sold without the Author's prior consent

ACT I, SCENE III

SCENE: LIGHTS COME UP on Haddie standing at the window with her back
to the door. She watches outside and catches her breath when she hears
the door open behind her. AARON STARBUCK, 25, enters and waits in the
doorway. He resembles more a figure from a romantic novel than an
ordinary Quaker. His life for six years has been that of a Pacific
islander, and his appearance reflects a sense of freedom and sexuality
unheard of on Quaker Nantucket. A loose fitting smock hardly conceals
his muscular brown chest, and his golden hair is streaming across his
shoulders. His pants are tattered, and his shoes have been carved into
sandals. A bone necklace of some kind surrounds his throat.

AARON: Haddie Elizabeth Gardner Starbuck—I have returned to thee.

(Haddie turns around slowly and catches her breath at the sight of
him. He takes a step towards her.)

HADDI: Nay, stand thy ground Aaron Nathaniel Starbuck for it is from
the dead that thee hast returned, and I am looking upon the ghost of
thee.

AARON: Nay, I assure thee, Dear One, that inside the ghost thou sees
before thee beats a human heart, a heart that once beat in grand
unison with the heart beneath thine own bosom.

HADDIE: Pray let me sit before my knees buckle beneath me.

(He starts for her.)

HADDIE: Nay, come near me not! Thy touch could well night ruin me,
and there is a vast sea of incredulity before me to which thou are
largely accountable. (A few beats.) Pray tell me Aaron Starbuck how
thee comes to be alive at all.

AARON: Aye, it is but by the will of God alone that I breathe and
walk upon the earth. Of seven good men aboard a small boat wrecked by
a leviathan's deathblow, I alone live to tell the tale.

HADDIE: Nay, speak to me not of tales, for those are for whale men to
recount on long voyages; I am interested only in hearing God's own
truth in the matter.

AARON: Aye and that is as it should be, and may God strike me down if
I speak anything other than what I witnessed that terrible day.

HADDIE: Go on then, but be quick about it. For thy rebirth has
placed upon the burden of thee and thy family a multitude of pressing
issues that need a swift resolution.

AARON: If thee speaks of thy pending marriage to my brother,
Fletcher, then think not of it requiring a quick resolution, for by
virtue of the circumstances fast upon us, no wedding bells will toll
for thee on this day. On this matter I have already spoken to
Fletcher.

HADDIE: And to this he was in agreement?

AARON: Nay, not entirely for he is deeply vexed and perplexed by
this matter. But he knowest that no wedding can take place on this
day.

HADDIE: Aye, I too am well aware of this. The matter of which my
concern is most focused then is that of protecting the good names of
Gardner and Starbuck on this island.

AARON: Aye, thee can be assured the importance of that concern is
foremost in my mind as well. And by all rights, no man's name should
be smeared, for there is no complicity in this affair which would by
reasonable men be assumed.

HADDIE: Knowing what I do of these matters, it is a woman's name that
is more likely to come under scrutiny than that of a man. Therefore I
must abide not only by my heart in this affair but also by reason.
Thou are free to come and go with each tide and distance thyself from
this affair entirely; but I am shackled by the conventions of
propriety and can only leave this coveted island at great risk to my
personal well-being. And let us not forget that the reasonable men who
will judge this affair were the same men, who, in the light of reason
proclaimed thee dead so I might marry thy brother.

AARON: Aye, I spoke briefly to Fletcher of that matter as well and we
are in agreement of its complexity and sensitive nature.

HADDIE: Had thee returned on the next tide instead of this one, those
same reasonable men might well nigh label me a bigamist even though
they be the same learned men who pronounced thee engulfed by thy
mistress.

AARON: Aye, and it would have been so if not by the grace of God,
who, in His wisdom, prevailed upon the mistress to loosen her death
grip upon my soul. But for what good reason, I know not.

HADDIE: Pray tell me now how this miracle was accomplished.

AARON: Aye, I will tell then in God's truth the facts of the matter
which are these: The plank upon which I sat as steersman floated up to
me from the depths after a mighty blow from the leviathan's tail
destroyed our craft. All aboard, with the exception of I who sits
before thee, were swallowed up in a sea awash with the blood of man
and beast. With what few wits I still had about me I distanced myself
from the debacle and prayed for God to alleviate the suffering around
me with a swift hand, but it was not to be His will to do so. With a
plank resembling in a like manner the shape of a cross I set out in
what the sun told me was the direction of the mother ship, but alas,
she was not to be found. The current in time carried me into vast
reaches of what I can only surmise was uncharted ocean for I know not
upon what island I landed many days hence feeding on nothing but
flying-fish provided by the hand of God. By His grace the inhabitants
of the island on which I landed neither worshiped stone images nor
looked up the consumption of human flesh as a measure of manhood. I
was taken in and cared for as if a son by the island's good people.

HADDIE: Aye, it was then a loving people in which thee was so
fortunate to have been attended all these years?

AARON: Aye, there can be little doubt of that.

HADDIE: And from all appearances a remote one. For after three years
and now growing on seven, the Meeting elders presumed thee a lost soul
and proclaimed thee officially as such.

AARON: Aye. I thought myself dead as well and to my discredit
conducted myself accordingly.

HADDIE: Pray, tell me how the dead conduct themselves?

AARON: Thou would derive no benefit from such knowledge.

HADDIE: Pray, explain to me then how thee came to the knowledge of
how the dead do indeed conduct themselves.

AARON: Nay, it is a source of great consternation within me now, and
I desire to trouble thee not with it. Let us rejoice only that God
hath seen fit to return me to thy arms.

(He starts for her again.)

HADDIE: Nay, move then not from that anchorage, for my heart by this
time I have in all earnestness given to another.

AARON: Nay, thou are not at this hour any longer bound to my brother.
Fletcher will abdicate his prerogative for thy affection for the
reason of my prior claim upon thee. What sayeth thee to this, dear
wife?

HADDIE: I sayeth thou has too little knowledge of the affairs of this
island that hath transpired in thine absence. And presently, be it
known to thee that I will be bound to no man by a tethered line, but
by heartstrings alone will I be bound for their strength far exceeds
that of any anchor chain. And, further, am I to surmise from the
history thus far related that thee knowst nothing of other island
events about which your return might cause great calamity?

AARON: Aye, I know of brother Ishmael's loss, a bitter pill that
still weights heavily on my heart.

HADDIE: Aye, as it does for us all still. However, doth thee know
nothing else of Ishmael's affairs?

AARON: Nay, I had not shared the pleasure of my brother's company for
well nigh six years. And my saviors aboard Independence spoke little
of him either out of respect or a fear of aggravating the open would
in my heart.

HADDIE: Aye, thee whale men are a queer lot. There is little doubt of
that.

AARON: What means thee this by such an observation?

HADDIE: Did Fletcher not speaketh to thee of Ishmael and myself?

AARON: Nay, he remained silent on the matter although bethinks he is
still greatly troubled. (A beat.) What doth thy preoccupation with my
poor departed brother signify?

HADDIE: Only that it is incumbent upon me to fetch the light of truth
so that thee might see more clearly.

AARON: Then hesitate no longer; cast forth thy light from beneath the
barrel that obscures it.

HADDIE: Aye, as thou wishes. Ishmael Starbuck mattered greatly to me,
Aaron. For upon the formal declaration of thy loss, I became betrothed
and shortly thereafter the wife of thy brother Ishmael.

AARON: Nay, how can this be?

HADDIE: It was a matter of the heart.

AARON: My brother would not take thee for thine own!

HADDIE: Nay, he did not take me, Aaron; I gave of myself freely and
in good conscience. For by all that is true and right, I thought thee
perished from this earth. As did we all. The elders at Meeting and the
courts declared it so. Had I or any one of us had the faintest
knowledge of thy circumstances, I would have remained true to thee.

AARON: Nay, how can a good woman cast such a dark light? (A beat.)
How couldst thou so deceive me, Haddie Starbuck?

HADDIE: Wouldst thou have me mourn thee forevermore and grown old and
embittered by the lonely lot life hath cast me?

AARON: Nay, that is not my wish for thee, but a revelation such as
this troubles me to no end. And is there not a Quaker edict that
forbids such a marriage?

HADDIE: Aye, but it was for the sake of convenience and economy
overruled by the elders in this case as it was in the case of my
betrothal to Fletcher. (A beat.) I fear thy troubled heart is not
entirely of my making. So tell me true, speaking to me honestly from
the heart, Aaron, did I remain in thy favor while on thy sojourn on a
Pacific island?

AARON: Aye, thee remained in favor in my heart.

HADDIE (looking out): If that be true, then speak to me frankly about
the native woman and three fair-haired children waiting not twenty
fathoms from this dwelling. (He looks away.) By the sight I see before
me it is apparent that while I may have remained in thy heart, thy
loins sought comfort elsewhere. For what reason be they there?

AARON: This is a perplexing matter of which I wish not to speak
without counsel.

HADDIE: Doth thee deny that these three are not the product of thy
union with the island woman who cares for them so lovingly?

AARON: I deny it not. It is clear they have the island look about
them.

HADDIE: Of which island doth thee speak?

AARON: Aye, Haddie, thee are the clever one still. These children
have the look of both islands about them. It is clear these children
wear the face of my infidelity.

HADDIE: Aye, I surmised as much. Perhaps it is a blending of such
diverse island cultures that will bring about a better understanding
of our place in the outside world. For I fear our reign of peace on
this small isle is drawing to a close.

AARON: Speak to me not of philosophy when thy betrayal still lingers
so fresh on my mind.

HADDIE: How can thee hold me blameful for wedding thy brother, or
any man for that matter, when by all accounts both human and Divine,
thee had perished?

AARON: It is more a matter of a man's rights than it is a woman's
desire for a mate that drives such issues. By the laws of God and man
thou remains bound to me till death us doth part.

HADDIE: And what of thy bond to me? Thou had neither reason nor
evidence to suppose that my demise had rendered our marriage vows of
no consequence. And yet did thee not take yea island woman for thy
mate and lie with her beneath a canopy of twinkling stars on the night
and toil with her through many long days and procreate three children
through her union with thee?

AARON: The measure of man's behavior among the people of the world is
not to be equally judged against thine own circumstances upon this
island.

HADDIE: Nay, I will hold fast to the ideal of common and equal
judgment for all people in our Society of Friends. We are all bound by
our search for Truth not only on this small island but on those isles
of the South Pacific as well.

AARON: Nay, woman, thou knowest nothing of which thee speaks.

HADDIE: I know enough to recognize the anguish in a man's countenance
when he allows the truth in his heart to be ruled by the ache in his
loins.

AARON: Speak no more of these things, woman, for it becomes thee not
to think on such longings.

HADDIE: Aye, it may become me not, but on taking thy leave thee left
me with the same longings occupying my loins as those of which thee
wishes me not to speak. However, since I anticipated thy eventual
return, I satisfied such worldly ambitions with the memory of thee
that lived in my heart. (A beat.) What did thee do, Aaron
Starbuck—less or more?

AARON: Haddie Starbuck I comprehend not why thy heart has so
hardened against me.

HADDIE: The reasons lies beyond that door in the issue thou hast
brought home with thee. And for what purpose, I still know not.

(Both of them look at the door. It suddenly bursts open and Abigail
rushes in breathlessly.)

ABIGAIL: Pray, forgive me this inconvenience, dear Haddie, but upon
the docking of Freedom more news of great magnitude and bewilderment
has been dispatched.

HADDIE: Nay, I believe it not. What news by any measure could be more
vexing than the circumstances that have so recently been cast upon
this shore?

ABIGAIL: Think on it, Dear Sister. How couldst the return of another
whaler from afar increase the gale that already blows around thee?

AARON (incredulous): My brother, Ishmael—liveth!

HADDIE (incredulous): My husband, Ishmael—liveth!

ABIGAIL: Aye, they are one in the same. This husband-brother walks
and breathes on this island, and unless circumstances belay him, he is
making haste to acquaint himself again with thee. God hath seen fit to
answer thy prayers.

HADDIE: Pray then that He too will provide Divine guidance of how to
most judiciously accommodate the fortunes of my answered prayers. For
I am but a small vessel in a raging sea, a solitary woman caught up in
an unholy Trinity.

(LIGHTS COME DOWN SLOWLY TO END THE SCENE.)

[end of extract]

Discount Price $7.25 Add to cart