Bertolt Brecht: Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder 4

by Bertolt Brecht

  But they can be very loving

  If a fellow sees them right.

  It’s a fact: cash makes you randy

  As I’ve learnt night after night.

  What’s the use of all those red moons shining

  On the waters once the money goes?

  Beauty can provide no silver lining

  When you’re broke and everybody knows.

  If you want to know what makes them swoon

  It’s the lining, not the moon.

  Try to look at it in this light:

  How can couples go to bed

  With the proper appetite

  If they’ve both got empty bellies?

  Better get the order right.

  Food is fuel, cash makes you randy.

  As I’ve learnt night after night.

  CORNAMONTIS shouts: Nanna! To Isabella: The girl doesn’t have to know the price. Nanna enters. Nanna, swap clothes with the young lady. You’re going to the Commander in her place.

  NANNA: And what’s in it for me?

  CORNAMONTIS: Don’t be cheeky. You’ll get the normal rate. Now get yourself dressed.

  ISABELLA: I should like a screen please.

  NANNA: I shan’t look.

  ISABELLA: Nevertheless, I should like a screen.

  Nanna brings a screen. The girls swap clothes.

  CORNAMONTIS: So, Nanna, now you’re wearing the right clothes, but will you know how to conduct yourself in them? I’ll play the part of the important gentleman. How may I be of service, madam? Go on then, answer!

  NANNA: I’m here once more on my brother’s behalf, to ask you …

  CORNAMONTIS: To implore!

  NANNA: To implore!

  CORNAMONTIS to Isabella: Isn’t that what you’d say?

  ISABELLA: I should say nothing at all.

  CORNAMONTIS: And let him work it out?

  NANNA: And how’s that supposed to work? It’s not my style, these theatricals.

  CORNAMONTIS: You be quiet! He may ask you about why you want to join the Needy Sisters of San Barabas. And what’ll you say then?

  NANNA: Well, I’ve got the money. If I don’t stash it away here it may even get confiscated. On account of my pointed head. No marriage can help me out of that one. I don’t want to marry a Pointed Head, he’d be no security in these times, and no Round Head would have me. I’ll be comfortable with the Needy Sisters of San Barabas. Nothing to do all day, no physical work anyway, but lots to eat and I’ll live in peace. No worries.

  CORNAMONTIS: Is that right?

  ISABELLA: Those are not my reasons. But why should it need to be true? I don’t wish to tell you my reasons.

  CORNAMONTIS: But she will have to tell him. And she’ll tell it as you’ve just heard her, like some cowgirl, no refinement. You’ve got to tell her what to say.

  And so the landlord’s sister instructs the tenant’s daughter in the three chief virtues: abstinence, obedience and poverty.

  ISABELLA quietly:

  Aah, I had always desired, that my childhood might never end.

  Wished that my days could be happy, and peaceful my nights.

  O to live in virtue, for ever safe from the greed and brutality of men, that is what I have aspired to.

  So that for me there’d only be the Lord

  Whose love’s a bounteous and sweet reward.

  CORNAMONTIS weeping: You see what it is to be respectable, you peasant trollop!

  NANNA cheekily:

  Aah, I had always desired, that my childhood might never end.

  Aside: The shit I put up with!

  Wished that my days could be happy, and peaceful my nights.

  We should be so lucky!

  O to live in virtue, safe from the greed and brutality of men, that’s what I’d like too!

  For me there’d likewise be but one milord

  Whose bounteous love would be my sweet reward.

  CORNAMONTIS angrily: What are you on about, you slut! Pull yourself together!

  NANNA: I can see I’m going to have to do that.

  CORNAMONTIS to Isabella: Please do continue! This is quite an experience for me.

  ISABELLA:

  Of all the virtues obedience is the finest.

  How should I know what is right? I know but this:

  The dear Lord means me well, therefore I say:

  Let not my will be done, but only His!

  Transgression seeks forgiveness from above

  And God rewards obedience with love.

  CORNAMONTIS to Nanna: Now you say it, but get it right this time!

  NANNA deadpan:

  Of all the virtues obedience is the finest.

  How should I know what is right? I know but this:

  The dear Lord means me well, therefore I say:

  Let not my will be done, but only His!

  Transgression seeks forgiveness from above

  And God rewards obedience with love.

  ISABELLA:

  A life of poverty is our perpetual goal

  For poverty cannot corrupt nor can it harm me.

  Ask all You will of my body, my heart and my soul

  I glory to serve and do battle in Jesus’ Army.

  All worldly goods I do renounce, O Lord

  Your gracious love is all my rich reward.

  NANNA:

  A life of poverty is our perpetual goal

  For poverty cannot corrupt nor can it harm me.

  Ask all You will of my body, my heart and my soul

  I glory to serve and do battle in Jesus’ Army.

  All worldly goods I do renounce, O Lord

  I’m holding out for ten per cent reward.

  CORNAMONTIS: Jesus, we’ve forgotten the most important thing!

  NANNA: What’s that?

  CORNMONTIS: She’s a Zak! She’s got a round head! And our important gentleman has a particular interest in a Zik! You may look the same and move the same, and we’ll manage the rest all right. The costume’s fine. But the head is wrong! He just has to stroke her head and he’ll find us out!

  NANNA: Give me a hairpiece, I’ll make sure he doesn’t touch my head. Besides, I’m not so sure race has that much to do with this sort of thing.

  Nanna’s hair is arranged so that her head looks like Isabella’s.

  CORNAMONTIS: Well, whatever else the differences, class and wealth and so on: at least the head’s the same now. To Nanna: Try to move a bit more woodenly, to go with all that refined talk. Forget everything you’ve learnt from me, act as if you hadn’t learnt a thing, as if just being there was enough. Imagine how a plank of wood dispenses favours! Don’t give him a thing, but act as if you were giving too much. Accept everything, but as if it was nothing. That way he’ll get no gratification, but he’ll still be indebted to you. Now go upstairs and wash your hands again, and take some of my cologne, from on top of the cupboard; on second thoughts, that’s too common; it’s even more refined to smell of nothing. Nanna goes upstairs. Madame Cornamontis to Isabella: You’d better stay here until Nanna comes back, in a couple of hours you can go home in your own clothes.

  Madame Cornamontis leaves the room and goes back behind the bar. Enter Mrs Callas and her four little children.

  MRS CALLAS: Oh Madame Cornamontis, when we heard that a new age was dawning, my husband, the farmer, went into town to get his share of the new prosperity. We heard our landlord has been condemned to death. On account of he was rack-renting. But yesterday they came and took our cow away because we haven’t paid our taxes. And my husband still hasn’t come home. We’ve looked for him everywhere, the children are exhausted and hungry, but I’ve got no money to buy them gruel. In the old days Nanna used to help us sometimes, when we were hard up. We hear she’s gone up in the world now and isn’t working here any longer. In the long run a house like yours, Madame Cornamontis, wasn’t the thing for our daughter. But perhaps you can tell us where she is now?

  CORNAMONTIS: She’s back here again, but she’s not free right now. But you c
an have some soup all the same.

  Madame Cornamontis gives them soup. The family sits down on the steps and eats. Nanna enters. She pushes her way through the family sitting in the doorway, eating. They hold her back.

  MRS CALLAS: It’s the young lady sister of our landlord! Say your piece!

  THE CHILDREN:

  Dear Señor de Guzman, you’re a proper gent,

  Dear Señor de Guzman, let us off the rent.

  NANNA behind her veil: Don’t get your hopes up! To the audience:

  I’ll set the world to rights by this old trick.

  But it’s not just a case of Zak for Zik:

  For here the poor girl takes the rich girl’s part

  And where the nun should go, behold a tart!

  10

  A PRISON

  The gaoled tenant farmers, amongst them Lopez, are sitting in a condemned cell. They are having their heads shaved by Hatsos. In another cell, the landowner de Guzman. Outside a gallows is being built.

  HATSO to the farmer whom he’s shaving: So did you have to daub that sickle sign all over the place, was it that important?

  FARMER: Yes.

  HATSO: So who’s going to help your women through the winter now?

  FARMER: We don’t know.

  HATSO: And who’s going to plough your fields in the spring if you’re not there?

  FARMER: We don’t know that either.

  HATSO: Will there be any fields left to plough by the spring?

  FARMER: We don’t even know that.

  HATSO: But the Sickle will triumph in the end, you know that?

  FARMER: Yes, that we do know.

  THE INSPECTOR enters with a measure and measures de Guzman’s neck: Personally, from a human standpoint, I find your case rather moving. They say there are lots of farmers in town, just waiting to see if a landlord is really going to hang. They say, on the first of the month they’ll all refuse to pay their rents. How are we supposed to hang a man with all that going on! Neck sixteen inches, that’s a drop of eight feet. Keep quiet in there! If I make a mistake there’ll be such a stink! I remember the trouble the press made two years ago over the Colzoni case, when the guillotine didn’t work, it was far worse than the trouble they made when they found out the man was innocent all along.

  Enter the two attorneys.

  ZAKKISH ATTORNEY: Inspector, even as we speak the man’s sister has in her hands the means to secure her brother’s reprieve.

  INSPECTOR drily: I’ve no doubt of it. Did you see the young lady in the veil who just went in to see the Commander?

  The attorneys breathe a sigh of relief.

  ZIKKISH ATTORNEY to de Guzman who is too distressed to listen: De Guzman, glad tidings! Your sister is with the Commander!

  ZAKKISH ATTORNEY: At least we can be sure Zazarante won’t be bothering us for a while.

  INSPECTOR as he leaves: You’ll still have to get started shaving him!

  The Hatso starts to shave the landowner.

  ZAKKISH ATTORNEY to his colleague: It’s looking rather grim, you know. Even if the Commander turns a blind eye, we don’t have a real solution. Even though our client is one of the biggest landowners in the country.

  De Guzman and his two attorneys sing the ‘Song of a Big Shot’.

  SONG OF A BIG SHOT

  1

  DE GUZMAN:

  In my cot I used to hear them sing

  How I’d never have to toil or sweat

  Willing arms would rush to take the strain

  This was their habitual refrain:

  I’m a big shot, there’s no doubt of that!

  In those days I only weighed four pounds, but I’m as big as the next man now!

  ATTORNEYS:

  So who helped you grow so big and strong?

  Were you brought up by your gentle mother?

  DE GUZMAN:

  Gracious no, there was some nurse or other

  Just some prole who, for a coin or two

  Eagerly took on the household toil.

  ATTORNEYS:

  But of course, there’s always someone who

  Is so poor and wretched they’ll be loyal!

  2

  DE GUZMAN:

  When I inherited my stock and acres

  I was still a carefree teenage brat

  But I had no reason to complain

  This was their habitual refrain:

  I’m a big shot, there’s no doubt of that!

  You know, I never had the slightest interest in agriculture!

  ATTORNEYS:

  Who then ploughed and sowed and reaped your acres

  Was it you who took on all that bother?

  DE GUZMAN:

  Gracious no, some labourers or other

  Just some proles who, for a coin or two

  Brought the harvest in, or dug the soil.

  ATTORNEYS:

  But of course, there’s always someone who

  Is so poor and wretched they’ll be loyal!

  3

  ATTORNEYS:

  Now they say our client’s going to swing!

  ’Cause his head is pointed, where it should be flat!

  This affair’s turned out a sorry mess

  Can you wonder that he’s showing signs of stress?

  He’s a big shot, there’s no doubt of that!

  DE GUZMAN:

  I’m a big shot, there’s no doubt of that!

  ATTORNEYS: What are the farmers to do if their landlord is hanged?

  DE GUZMAN:

  What are we to do about this hanging?

  ATTORNEYS:

  The situation’s looking rather bad!

  Is there really no one to be had?

  Just some prole who, for a coin or two

  Would even shuffle off this mortal coil?

  Surely, damn it, we’ll find someone who

  Is so poor and stupid they’ll be loyal!

  Farmer Callas appears upstage at a gap in the wall, closed off with stout iron bars.

  FARMER CALLAS waving: Señor de Guzman! Señor de Guzman! Señor de Guzman, it’s Farmer Callas! I still need to know what’s going to happen about the rent!

  ZAKKISH ATTORNEY: The rent is to be paid to the Convent of San Barabas, the Treasury, back court, right-hand side.

  CALLAS: I’m not asking you! Señor de Guzman, you’ve got to let up on the rent!

  ZIKKISH ATTORNEY: Come in, come in, we’re not monsters you know! Callas disappears from the window. Señor de Guzman, I believe we’ve found you a replacement.

  Enter Farmer Callas.

  CALLAS to the audience:

  When I went off and left my farm

  I didn’t really mean much harm,

  I simply hoped to live rent free

  And grow my barley just for me.

  I came to Luma town ’ere long:

  The bells were ringing: ding dang dong!

  And everybody treated me

  As if I were some V.I.P.

  If any man did anything

  To hurt me, I was told, he’d swing.

  And so the frog crawled from his pond,

  The fairy waved her magic wand.

  But what that honour may have meant –

  It didn’t help to pay the rent.

  Honour goes straight to your head

  But it’s no substitute for bread.

  If all the food is in the pond

  The frog will know that he’s been conned.

  They’ve talked of honour now for weeks,

  But of my rent, nobody speaks!

  They’ve tried to keep me in the dark.

  I’ve got to make the landlord talk.

  Whatever all their judgements meant,

  I have to know: what’s with the rent!

  As he walks past he sees his onetime friend Lopez in the condemned cell.

  CALLAS yells at Lopez, who looks at him in silence: You shut your mouth! In front of de Guzman’s cell: Señor de Guzman, if you won’t let me off the rent I’ll take a rope and hang
myself, to end this misery.

  LOPEZ: And yet there was a time, Callas, when it was all going so well!

  CALLAS yells: You just keep your mouth shut!

  ZAKKISH ATTORNEY: Mr Callas, we have a proposition to make! He pulls up a chair for Callas.

  ZIKKISH ATTORNEY: You’re in luck! Señor de Guzman’s pardon is as good as in the bag. The underlings here just don’t know it yet. He’s to be pardoned on the gallows, in celebration of the return of a certain great statesman who is due back in town tomorrow. But we’re still a little worried, you see, about letting him walk to the gallows in the state he’s in. He’s been under so much stress. Why don’t you go in his place, in return, say, for one year’s rent relief? It’s perfectly safe, as good as.

  CALLAS: And I’m supposed to let myself be strung up for him?

  ZIKKISH ATTORNEY: Nonsense! Nobody could ask that!

  ZAKKISH ATTORNEY: You must decide, of course, it’s entirely up to you. There’s no serfdom in Yahoo. Nobody’s forcing you to do anything. You know your financial situation, and you must be the judge, can you afford to ignore the offer of a year without rent?

  ZIKKISH ATTORNEY: After all, just a moment ago, you said you were going to hang yourself anyway!

  ZAKKISH ATTORNEY: You do understand, a wealthy man isn’t up to this sort of exertion. All that luxury has made him soft, it’s taking its toll. Between you and me, he’s a sissy. But you peasants, you’re made of sterner stuff. You take it all in your stride. He beckons to an Iberin soldier who’s just finished in the farmers’ cell. Hey, you! Give this man a shave too, Zazarante’s orders!

  CALLAS: But they’ll hang me!

  ZIKKISH ATTORNEY: You don’t have to decide yet, just get yourself shaved, in case, otherwise it won’t be all that much use to us when you do agree.

  CALLAS: But I haven’t said yes yet!

  On a chair next to the cell in which his landlord is being shaved, Farmer Callas is shaved too.

  THE HATSO shaving the Sickle men: By the way, what are you going to do with your shoes?

  A FARMER: Why do you ask?

  HATSO: Take a look at my boots! We got them free, although we still had to pay for the re-soling. But I don’t enjoy kicking people any more, not with these boots. One guy even reckoned it was doing him good!

  FARMER: You can have mine.

  CALLAS has been thinking, hesitantly: Two years rent-free, at least! After all, I’m risking my neck.

  ZIKKISH ATTORNEY: Señor de Guzman, your tenant Callas is prepared to take your place. You just have to come to an agreement about the rent.