Brecht Collected Plays: 1: Baal; Drums in the Night; In the Jungle of Cities; Life of Edward II of England; & 5 One Act Plays: Baal , Drums in the Night , In the Jungle of Ci (World Classics)

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Brecht Collected Plays: 1: Baal; Drums in the Night; In the Jungle of Cities; Life of Edward II of England; & 5 One Act Plays: Baal , Drums in the Night , In the Jungle of Ci (World Classics) Page 7

by Bertolt Brecht


  EKART looks hard at Baal, who gazes up into the sky: I can’t strike this thing!

  BAAL his arm round Ekart: It’s getting dark. We must find a place for the night. There are hollows in the wood where the wind never penetrates. Come, I’ll tell you about the animals. He draws him away.

  SOPHIE alone in the dark, screams: Baal!

  Brown Wooden Bar

  Night. Wind. At tables, Gougou, Bolleboll. The old beggar and Maja with a child in a box.

  BOLLEBOLL playing cards with Gougou: I’ve no more money.

  Let’s play for our souls.

  THE BEGGAR: Brother wind wants to come in. But we don’t know our cold brother wind. Heh, heh, heh!

  The child cries.

  MAJA the beggar woman: Listen! Something’s prowling round the house. Pray God it’s no wild beast!

  BOLLEBOLL: Why? Are you feeling randy again?

  Knocking at the door.

  MAJA: Listen! I won’t open.

  THE BEGGAR: You will open.

  MAJA: No, no, Mother of God, no!

  THE BEGGAR: Bouque la Madonne! Open up!

  MAJA crawls to the door: Who’s outside?

  The child cries. Maja opens the door.

  BAAL enters with Ekart, soaked to the skin: Is this where they look after the sick?

  MAJA: Yes, but there’s no bed free. More insolently: And I’m ill.

  BAAL: We’ve brought champagne. Ekart has gone to warm himself by the stove.

  BOLLEBOLL: Come here! The man who knows what champagne is, is good enough for us.

  THE BEGGAR: There’s high society here today, my boy!

  BAAL goes up to the table and pulls two bottles from his pocket: Mmm?

  THE BEGGAR: That’s fishy.

  BOLLEBOLL: I know where you got that champagne. But I won’t give you away.

  BAAL: Here, Ekart! Any glasses?

  MAJA: Cups, kind gentlemen. Cups. She brings some.

  GOUGOU: I need a cup of my own.

  BAAL doubtful: Are you allowed to drink champagne?

  GOUGOU: Please! Baal pours him some.

  BAAL: What’s wrong with you?

  GOUGOU: Bronchitis. Nothing bad. A little inflammation.

  Nothing serious.

  BAAL to Bolleboll: And you?

  BOLLEBOLL: Stomach ulcers. Won’t kill me!

  BAAL to the beggar: There’s something wrong with you too, I trust?

  THE BEGGAR: I’m mad.

  BAAL: Here’s to you! We understand each other. I’m healthy.

  THE BEGGAR: I knew a man who said he was healthy too. He believed it. He came from the forest and one day he went back there as there was something he had to think over. He found the forest very strange and no longer familiar, he walked for many days. Always deeper into the forest, because he wanted to see how independent he was and how much endurance there was left in him. But there wasn’t much. He drinks.

  BAAL uneasy: What a wind! We have to move on tonight, Ekart.

  THE BEGGAR: Yes, the wind. One evening, at sunset, when he was no longer alone, he went through the great stillness between the trees and stood beneath one of the highest. Drinks.

  BOLLEBOLL: That was the ape in him.

  THE BEGGAR: Yes, perhaps it was the ape. He leant against it, very closely, and felt the life in it, or thought so. And he said, you are higher than I am and stand firm and you know the earth beneath you, and it holds you. I can run and move better, but I do not stand firm and I do not reach into the depths of the earth and nothing holds me up. Nor do I know the quiet of the endless sky above the still tree-tops. He drinks.

  GOUGOU: What did the tree say?

  THE BEGGAR: Yes. And the wind blew. A shudder ran through the tree. And the man felt it. He threw himself down on the ground and he clutched the wild, hard roots and cried bitterly. But he did it to many trees.

  EKART: Did it cure him?

  THE BEGGAR: No. He had an easier death, though.

  MAJA: I don’t understand that.

  THE BEGGAR: Nothing is understood. But some things are felt. If one understands a story it’s just that it’s been told badly.

  BOLLEBOLL: Do you believe in God?

  BAAL with an effort: I’ve always believed in myself. But a man could turn atheist.

  BOLLEBOLL laughs loudly: Now I feel happy. God! Champagne! Love! Wind and rain! He reaches for Maja.

  MAJA: Leave me alone. Your breath stinks.

  BOLLEBOLL: And I suppose you haven’t got the pox? He takes her on his lap.

  THE BEGGAR: Watch it! To Bolleboll: I’m getting drunker and drunker. If I get completely drunk you can’t go out in the rain tonight.

  GOUGOU to Ekart: He used to be better looking, that’s how he got her.

  EKART: What about your intellectual superiority? Your psychic ascendancy?

  GOUGOU: She wasn’t like that. She was completely innocent.

  EKART: And what did you do?

  GOUGOU: I was ashamed.

  BOLLEBOLL: Listen! The wind. It’s asking God for peace.

  MAJA sings:

  Lullaby baby, away from the storm

  Here we are sheltered and drunken and warm.

  BAAL: Whose child is that?

  MAJA: My daughter, sir.

  THE BEGGAR: A virgo dolorosa.

  BAAL drinks: That’s how it used to be, Ekart. And it was all right too.

  EKART: What?

  BOLLEBOLL: He’s forgotten what.

  BAAL: Used to be! That’s a strange phrase!

  GOUGOU to Ekart: The best of all is nothingness.

  BOLLEBOLL: Pst! We’re going to have Gougou’s aria. A song from the old bag of worms.

  GOUGOU: It’s as if the air was quivering on a summer evening. Sunshine. But it isn’t quivering. Nothing. Nothing at all. You just stop. The wind blows, and you don’t feel, cold. It rains, and you don’t get wet. Funny things happen, and you don’t laugh with the others. You rot, and you don’t need to wait. General strike.

  THE BEGGAR: That’s Hell’s Paradise.

  GOUGOU: Yes, that’s paradise. No wish unfulfilled. You have none left. You learn to abandon all your habits. Even wishing. That’s how you become free.

  MAJA: What happened in the end?

  GOUGOU grins: Nothing. Nothing at all. There is no end. Nothingness lasts for ever.

  BOLLEBOLL: Amen.

  BAAL gets up, to Ekart: Ekart, get up. Were fallen among murderers. He supports himself by putting his arm round Ekart’s shoulders. The vermin multiply. The rot sets in. The maggots sing and show off.

  EKART: It’s the second time that’s happened to you. I wonder if it’s just the drink.

  BAAL: My guts are hanging out … this is no mud bath.

  EKART: Sit down. Get drunk. Warm yourself.

  MAJA drunk, sings:

  Summer and winter and snowstorms and rain

  If we aren’t sober we won’t feel the pain.

  BOLLEBOLL takes hold of Maja and pummels her: Your aria tickles me, little Gougou. Itsiwitsi, little Maja.

  The child cries.

  BAAL drinks: Who are you? Amused, to Gougou: Your name’s bag of worms. Are you a candidate for the mortuary? Your health! He sits down.

  THE BEGGAR: Watch out, Bolleboll! Champagne doesn’t agree with me.

  MAJA hanging on to Bolleboll, sings:

  Seeing is suffering, keep your eyes shut

  All go to sleep now, and nothing will hurt.

  BAAL brutally:

  Float down the river with rats in your hair

  Everything’s lovely, the sky is still there.

  He gets up, glass in hand. The sky is black! Did that scare you? Drums on the table. You have to stand the roundabout. It’s wonderful. He sways. I want to be an elephant in a circus and pee when things go wrong … He begins to dance and sing. Dance with the wind, poor corpse! Sleep with a cloud, you degenerate God! He goes up to the table, swaying.

  EKART gets up, drunk: I’m not going with you any farther. I’ve got a soul too.
You corrupted my soul. You corrupt everything. And then I shall start on my Mass again.

  BAAL: Your health! I love you.

  EKART: But I’m not going with you any farther. He sits down.

  THE BEGGAR to Bolleboll’: Hands off, you pig!

  MAJA: What’s it got to do with you?

  THE BEGGAR: Shut up, you poor thing!

  MAJA: You’re raving!

  BOLLEBOLL venomously: He’s a fraud. There’s nothing wrong with him. That’s right. It’s all a fraud!

  THE BEGGAR: And you’ve got cancer.

  BOLLEBOLL uncannily quiet: I’ve got cancer?

  THE BEGGAR turning coward: I didn’t say anything. Leave her alone! Maja laughs.

  BAAL: Why’s it crying? Sways to the box.

  THE BEGGAR angry: What do you want?

  BAAL leans over the box: Why are you crying? Have you never seen them at it before? Or do you cry every time?

  THE BEGGAR: Leave it alone, you! He throws his glass at Baal.

  MAJA: You pig!

  BOLLEBOLL: He’s only having a peep under her skirt!

  BAAL gets up slowly: Oh you swine! You don’t know what’s human any more. Come on, Ekart! We’ll wash ourselves in the river. He leaves with Ekart.

  Green Thicket. River Beyond

  Baal. Ekart.

  BAAL sitting in the thicket: The water’s warm. You can lie like a crab on the sand. And the shrubs and white clouds in the sky. Ekart!

  EKART concealed: What do you want?

  BAAL: I love you.

  EKART: I’m too comfortable here.

  BAAL: Did you see the clouds earlier?

  EKART: Yes, they’re shameless. Silence. A while ago a woman went by on the other side.

  BAAL: I don’t care for women any longer …

  Country Road. Willows

  Wind. Night. Ekart asleep in the grass. Baal comes across the fields as if drunk, his clothes open, like a sleepwalker.

  BAAL: Ekart! Ekart! I’ve got it! Wake up!

  EKART: What’s the matter? Are you talking in your sleep again?

  BAAL sits down by him: This:

  When she had drowned, and started her slow descent

  Down the streams to where the rivers broaden

  The opal sky shone most magnificent

  As if it had to be her body’s guardian.

  Wrack and seaweed cling to her as she swims

  Slowly their burden adds to her weight.

  Coolly fishes play about her limbs

  Creatures and growths encumber her in her final state.

  And in the evening the sky grew dark as smoke

  And at night the stars kept the light still soaring.

  But soon it cleared as dawn again broke

  To preserve her sequence of evening and morning.

  As her pale body decayed in the water there

  It happened (very slowly) that God gradually forgot it

  First her face, then the hands, and right at the last her hair

  Then she rotted in rivers where much else rotted.

  The wind.

  EKART: Has the ghost risen? It’s not as wicked as you. Now sleep’s gone to the devil and the wind is groaning in the willows like an organ. Nothing left but the white breast of philosophy, darkness, cold, and rain right up to our blessed end, and even for old women nothing left but their second sight.

  BAAL: You don’t need gin to be drunk in this wind. I see the world in a soft light: it is the excrement of the Almighty.

  EKART: The Almighty, who made himself known once and for all through the association of the urinary passage with the sexual organ.

  BAAL lying down: It’s all so beautiful.

  Wind.

  EKART: The willows are like rotten teeth in the black mouth of the sky. I shall start work on my Mass soon.

  BAAL: Is the quartet finished?

  EKART: When did I have the time?

  Wind.

  BAAL: It’s that redhead, the pale one, that you drag everywhere.

  EKART: She has a soft white body, and at noon she brings it with her under the willows. They’ve drooping branches like hair, behind which we fuck like squirrels.

  BAAL: Is she more beautiful than me?

  Darkness. The wind blows on.

  Young Hazel Shrubs

  Long red switches hanging down. In the middle of them, Baal, sitting. Noon.

  BAAL: I’ll satisfy her, the white dove … He looks at the place. You get a good view of the clouds here through the willow … when he comes there’ll only be skin left. I’m sick of his love affairs. Be calm!

  A young woman comes out of the thicket. Red hair, a full figure.

  BAAL without looking round: Is that you?

  THE YOUNG WOMAN: Where’s your friend?

  BAAL: He’s doing a Mass in E flat minor.

  THE YOUNG WOMAN: Tell him I was here.

  BAAL: He’s too thin. He’s transparent. He defiles himself.

  He’s regressing into zoology. Do sit down! He looks round.

  THE YOUNG WOMAN: I prefer to stand.

  BAAL: He’s been eating too many eggs lately. He pulls himself

  up by the red switches.

  THE YOUNG WOMAN: I love him.

  BAAL: You’re no concern of mine. He takes her in his arms.

  THE YOUNG WOMAN: Don’t touch me! You’re too dirty!

  BAAL slowly reaches for her throat: Is that your throat? Do you know how they put down pigeons, or wild ducks in the wood?

  THE YOUNG WOMAN: Mother of God! Leave me alone! She struggles.

  BAAL: With your weak knees? You’re falling over already.

  You want to be laid in the willows. A man’s a man, in this respect most of them are equal. He takes her in his arms.

  THE YOUNG WOMAN shaking: Please, let me go!

  BAAL: A shameless bird! I’ll have it. Act of rescue by desperate man! He takes her by both arms and drags her into the thicket.

  Maple Trees in the Wind

  Clouded sky. Baal and Ekart, sitting among the roots.

  BAAL: Drink’s needed, Ekart. Any money left?

  EKART: No. Look at the maple in the wind!

  BAAL: It’s trembling.

  EKART: Where’s that girl you used to go around the bars with?

  BAAL: Turn into a fish and look for her.

  EKART: You overeat, Baal. You’ll burst.

  BAAL: I’d like to hear the bang.

  EKART: Do you ever look into water when it’s black and deep and got no fish in it? Don’t ever fall in. Watch out for yourself. You’re so very heavy, Baal.

  BAAL: I’ll watch out for somebody else. I’ve written a song. Do you want to hear it?

  EKART: Read it, then I’ll know you.

  BAAL: It’s called Death in the Forest.

  And a man died deep in the primaeval woods

  While the storm blew in torrents around him -

  Died like an animal scrabbling for roots

  Stared up through the trees, as the wind skimmed the woods

  And the roar of the thunderclap drowned him.

  Several of them stood to watch him go

  And they strove to make his passage smoother

  Telling him: We’ll take you home now, brother.

  But he forced them from him with a blow

  Spat, and cried: and where’s my home, d’you know?

  That was home, and he had got no other.

  Is your toothless mouth choking with pus?

  How’s the rest of you: can you still tell?

  Must you die so slowly and with so much fuss?

  We’ve just had your horse chopped into steaks for us.

  Hurry up! They’re waiting down in hell.

  Then the forest roared above their head

  And they watched him clasp a tree and stagger

  And they heard his screams and what he said.

  Each man felt an overwhelming dread

  Clenched his fist or, trembling, drew his dagger:

  So lik
e them, and yet so nearly dead!

  You’re foul, useless, mad, you mangy bear!

  You’re a sore, a chancre, filthy creature!

  Selfish beast, you’re breathing up our air!

  So they said. And he, the cancer there:

  Let me live! Your sun was never sweeter!

  - Ride off in the light without a care!

  That’s what none of them could understand:

  How the horror numbed and made them shiver.

  There’s the earth holding his naked hand.

  In the breeze from sea to sea lies land:

  Here I lie in solitude for ever.

  Yes, mere life, with its abundant weight

  Pinned him so that even half-decayed

  He pressed his dead body ever deeper.

  At dawn he fell dead in the grassy shade.

  Numb with shock, they buried him, and cold with hate

  Covered him with undergrowth and creeper.

  Then they rode in silence from that place

  Turning round to see the tree again

  Under which his body once had lain

  Who felt dying was too sharp a pain:

  The tree stood in the sun ablaze.

  Each made the mark of the cross on his face

  And rode off swiftly over the plain.

  EKART: Well, well! I suppose it’s come to that now.

  BAAL: When I can’t sleep at night I look up at the stars. It’s just as good.

  EKART: IS it?

  BAAL suspiciously: But I don’t do it often. It makes you weak.

  EKART after a pause: You’ve made up a lot of poetry recently. You haven’t had a woman for a long time, have you?

  BAAL: Why?

  EKART: I was thinking. Say no.

  Baal gets up, stretches, looks at the top of the maple and laughs.

  Inn

  Evening. Ekart. The waitress. Watzmann. Johannes, in a shabby coat with a turned-up collar, hopelessly gone to seed. The waitress has the features of Sophie.

  EKART: It’s been eight years.

  They drink. Wind.

  JOHANNES: They say life only begins at twenty-five. That’s when they get broader and have children.

  Silence.

  WATZMANN: His mother died yesterday. So he runs around trying to borrow money for the funeral. When he gets it he comes here. Then we can pay for the drinks. The landlord’s a good man. He gives credit on a corpse which was a mother. Drinks.

 

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