by Alfred Jarry
SCENE TWO
The Great Hall of Justice, PA UBU, MA UBU, PISSWEET,
PISSALE, ELEUTHERIA, JUDGE, LAWYERS, CLERK, USHBR, GUARDS, PEOPLE.
PA UBU. We observe with pleasure, gentlemen, the fact that all the wheels of justice have been set in motion in our honour, that our guards have had the forethought to wear their special moustaches - the ones well-stained with the evidence of banquets and Sunday dinners - in order to endow the bench of our infamy with greater prestige, and that our liege subjects are listening attentively and remaining silent! USHER. Silence in court!
MA UBU. Psst! Shut up, Pa Ubu, or you’ll get yourself thrown out.
PA UBU. Certainly not, there are guards here specially to keep me from leaving. And I am obliged to talk incessantly, since all these people are here specifically for the purpose of interrogating me. - And now, produce those persons who have lodged a complaint against us!
THE JUDGE. Bring forward the accused and his accomplice!
They are hustled up, aided by a few kicks and thumps.
Your name, prisoner ?
PA UBU. Francis Ubu, sometime king of Poland and of Aragon, doctor of pataphysia, Count of Mondragon, Count of Sandomir, Marquis of Saint-Gregory.
PISSWEET. Alias: Pa Ubu!
MA UBU. Victorine Ubu, sometime queen of Poland.
PISSALE. Alias: Ma Ubu!
CLERK (writing). Pa Ubu and Ma Ubu.
JUDGE. Accused, what’s your age?
PA UBU. I’m not quite sure. I gave it to Ma Ubu to keep a long time ago - so long ago, in fact, that she’s not only lost it but her own age as well.
MA UBU. Ill-bred lout!
PA UBU. Madam, psch ... No, I’ve sworn not to use the Word any longer: it might bring me luck and get me acquitted, and I’m determined to end up in the galleys.
JUDGE (to the plaintiffs). Your names ?
PISSALE. Marquis of Grandair.
PA UBU (angrily). Alias: Pissale !
CLERK (Writing). Pissale, and his niece Eleutheria Pissale.
ELEUTHERIA. Oh dear! Uncle!
PISSALE. Calm yourself, niece, I’m still your uncle. PISSWEET. Marquis of Grandmeadow.
MA UBU (angrily). Alias: Pissweet!
ELEUTHERIA. Eek! (She faints and is carried off.)
PA UBU. Your Honour, pray don’t let this trifling incident delay you in the least. Go on, please, and render us the justice which is our due.
PUBLIC PROSECUTOR. Yes, gentlemen, this monster already soiled by so many crimes ...
COUNSEL FOR THE DEFENCE. Yes, gentlemen, this honest citizen with an irreproachable record ...
PROSECUTOR. Having extended his vile designs by using a polishing-brush on the naked feet of his victim ...
COUNSEL. Despite the fact that he went down on his knees to beg for mercy from this infamous trollop ...
PROSECUTOR. Abducted her, aided and abetted by his abominable wife, Ma Ubu, forced her into a carriage ...
COUNSEL. Found himself locked with his virtuous spouse in the boot of a carriage ...
PA UBU (to his DEFENDING COUNSEL). Hey, you there, Sir, shut up please! You’re telling lies and preventing this assembly from hearing all about our magnificent achievements. Yes, gentlemen, try to keep your nearoles open and stop kicking up such a row: we have been king of Poland and of Aragon, we have massacred more persons than can be counted, we have levied triple taxes, we dreamed solely of bloodletting, cash extortion, flaying alive and assassination; we performed the debraining ceremony regularly every Sunday on a convenient hillock in the suburbs, surrounded by an audience of wooden horses and coconut-shy operators. - Being very tidy in our habits, we have filed and disposed of these old criminal cases, but since then we have slain Mister Pissale, a fact to which he will certainly bear witness himself, and we have lashed Mister Pissweet here unmercifully with a whip, as you can see from the scars on our body, although this performance prevented us from hearing the sound of Miss Pissale’s ringing ... For all these reasons, we command you, gentlemen, our judge and prosecutor, to sentence us to the harshest punishment you can think up between you, so that we get what we deserve for our crimes: do not condemn us to death, however, because then you would have to vote exorbitant taxes for the construction of a sufficiently enormous guillotine. We rather fancy ourselves as a galley-slave, a fine green cap on our head, foddered at State expense and occupying our leisure hours in petty tasks. As for Ma Ubu ...
MA UBU. But ...
PA UBU. Hush, sweet child - ... she will weave designs on carpet-slippers. And as we don’t want to have to worry about our future, we trust that our sentence will be for life and that our country holiday may be arranged at some warm, sunny seaside resort.
PISSWEET (to PISSALE). So there really are people who can’t stand the idea of being free!
PISSALE. Listen, you, I know you want to marry my niece, but frankly I could never sacrifice her to a man dishonoured by the name ‘Pissweet’.
PISSWEET. And I would never dream of marrying a girl whose uncle is unworthy even of the name ‘Pissale’!
USHER, The Court is considering its verdict.
MA UBU. Pa Ubu, I’m afraid these people are going to acquit you; you did wrong not to say the Word to them in the first place.
PISSWEET (to PISSALE). Well, I’m glad to see we agree.
PISSALE. Come to my arms, nephew-in-law.
JUDGE. The Court has deliberated. Pa Ubu, do you know how to row ?
PA UBU. I don’t know if I know or not. But I do know how to give orders which will make a sailing-ship or a steamboat go in any direction I like, backwards, sideways or even downwards.
JUDGE. That’s beside the point. - The Court condemns Francis Ubu, known as Pa Ubu, to penal servitude for life as a galley-slave. He is sentenced to have a ball and chain fastened to each ankle while in prison and then to be sent to join the first available shipment of convicts for the galleys of Soliman, Sultan of the Turks. - The Court condemns his accomplice, known as Ma Ubu, to be fitted with one ball and chain, and to suffer solitary confinement for life in her prison.
SCENE THREE
The prison. PA UBU and MA UBU enter, their entrance being preceded by the sound of the iron balls they are dragging behind them.
MA UBU. - Oh, Pa Ubu, you get prettier every day. You were just born to wear a green cap and to sport manacles!
PA UBU. What’s more, madam, they are in the process right now of forging my high-ranking iron collar !
MA UBU. What does it look like, Pa Ubu ?
PA UBU. Madam my female, do you remember the tall gold collar on General Laski’s uniform? — you should do, you spent your whole time in Poland ogling him. - Well, this is an identical creation, except that it’s not gilded, since you advised me to be economical. Oh, it’s all solid stuff, you know, the same iron as our balls and chains are made of; none of that sloppy tin-can stuff - real flat-iron !
MA UBU. Stupid idiot! The iron balls you’re dragging behind you are a ridiculous invention; you’ll trip over them sooner or later, Pa Ubu. What a din!
PA UBU. Not ridiculous at all, Ma Ubu. With the aid of these adornments I’ll be able to tread on your toes all the more effectively!
MA UBU. Ow, no, let me off, please, Mister Ubu, Sir.
SCENE FOUR
A salon in an academy set aside for pious exhibitions, in which several OLD MAIDS are scurrying around.
FIRST OLD MAID. Yes, indeed, ladies, a big fat gentleman has arrived in this Free Country of ours, swearing that he intends to wait on everyone, be everyone’s servant, and use his arts to turn all the Free Men into Masters. And when anyone has objected to this he’s simply stuffed them into his pocket or into the boot of any passing carriage.
SECOND OLD MAID. Yes, and that’s not all. On my way back from church just now, I got caught in a huge crowd outside the prison - you know, that crumbling old edifice that is only being preserved as an ancient monument, and has a member of the Académie Française as gaoler. Pa Ubu is being kept the
re at the State’s expense, until enough other people have also merited the honours of judicial procedure and make up a presentable convoy for the galleys of Soliman. That won’t take long: they’ve already had to raze several districts to the ground, simply to build extensions to the prisons.
ALL. May the heavens protect this house of ours!
SCENE FIVE
The Same. BROTHER BUNG.
BROTHER BUNG. Peace be with you!
FIRST OLD MAID. Oh, goodness gracious, I didn’t hear you knock!
BUNG. It is not fitting that messengers of sweetness and light should cause the least disturbance anywhere, even by knocking ever so gently. I come to beseech your customary charity on behalf of a new set of poor people: the poor prisoners.
SECOND OLD MAID. The poor prisoners?!
FIRST OLD MAID. But the poor are all Free Men, wandering around and hammering with their crutches on every door in the street, kicking up such a rumpus that everyone rushes to the window and leans out to watch what’s going on, so that giving them alms practically becomes a public ceremony.
BUNG (holding out his hand). For the poor prisoners! Pa Ubu has threatened to barricade himself inside his prison, together with Ma Ubu and his large band of followers, unless the authorities provide him with the twelve meals a day he needs for his sustenance. He has declared his intention of throwing everybody out on to the street, stark naked, in the middle of winter - which he predicts will be a very hard one - while he’ll remain well sheltered inside, surrounded by his henchmen, with nothing more to do than cut his claws with a little saw and watch Ma Ubu embroider carpet-slippers to keep the convicts’ iron balls warm !
ALL. Twelve meals! Cutting his claws! Slippers for iron balls ! We won’t give him a sou, certainly not!
BUNG. In that case, peace be with you, sisters! Others will soon knock louder, and you will certainly hear them!
He goes off. Enter POLICEMEN and WRECKERS. The PIOUS OLD MAIDS flee. The WRECKERS smash all the window panes and fix iron bars into the frames, cart off the furniture, replace it with straw, then moisten the straw with water from a watering-can. The salon is entirely transformed into the décor of the folhowing scene:
SCENE SIX
The prison. PA UBU, in chains, PISSWEET.
PA UBU. Hey there, Pissweet, my friend! Just look at you: no roof over your head, roaming the streets with your three ragamuffim. I suppose you’ve come to beg for assistance from our phynance vehicle? Well, we shan’t even lend you the diligence you’ll need to consummate your wedding night with Miss Pissale. She is free too, her uncle is her only prison - very leaky when raining! Look at me, now! I never go out. I wear a beautiful ball on each foot, and to save them from rusting in this damp atmosphere I’ve spared no expense and had them liberally coated with glue, so now they refuse to budge an inch!
‘SWEET. Ahrgg! I’ve had enough of you, Pa Ubu, I’m ,ing to grab you by the scruff of your neck and drag you of this shell of yours.
U. I’m afraid, my good man, that your single idea of
om will never make a good snail-fork, which is a two-pronged instrument. In any case, I’m fastened to the wall. Good night. Since our astrological calculations have indicated to us that you’ll be sleeping under the stars tonight, we have ordered the street-lamps to be lit: they will supplement the starlight sufficiently for you to be able to get a really clear view of cold, hunger and emptiness. Ah well, it’s our bedtime, I see. The gaoler will show you out.
SCENE SEVEN
The same. THE GAOLER.
GAOLER. Closing time!
SCENE EIGHT
The passageway of a seraglio. SOLIMAN, his VIZIER, followed by attendants.
VIZIER. Sire, the Free Country has at last confirmed to Your Majesty the despatch of the tribute which it has taken them so long to amass. The authorities say the convoy comprises two hundred convicts, including the illustrious Pa Ubu, who is fatter than the fattest of Your eunuchs, although as far as his virility is concerned he claims to be married to the no less notorious Ma Ubu.
SOLIMAN. Yes, I have heard of this man known as Pa Ubu. I’m told he was once king of Poland and Aragon, and had some amazing adventures. But he eats pig-meat and pisses standing up. He must be either a madman or a heretic!
VIZIER. Sire, he is deeply versed in many branches of occult knowledge and might prove useful as a source of amusement for Your Majesty. He’s an expert on astrology and the art of navigation.
SOLIMAN. Good. He’ll row all the better in my galleys.
Act Four
SCENE ONE
FIRST FREE MAN (to the SECOND). Where are you off to, comrade? To drill, same as every morning? Hey, I suspect you’re obeying.
SECOND FREE MAN. The Corporal has ordered me never to turn up for drill at this particular hour. But I’m a Free Man, so I go every morning.
FIRST and THIRD FREE MEN (together). So that’s why we keep meeting by accident every morning - so that we can all disobey together as regular as clockwork.
SECOND FREE MAN. But the Corporal didn’t show up today.
THIRD FREE MAN. He’s free not to come.
FIRST FREE MAN. And since it’s raining...
SECOND FREE MAN. We are free not to enjoy being rained on.
FIRST FREE MAN. You see what I told you: you’re both becoming obedient.
SECOND FREE MAN. It’s more like it’s the Corporal what’s becoming obedient. He often misses our indiscipline drills these days.
THIRD FREE MAN. Whereas we’re standing guard in front of this prison just for the fun of it, in these here sentry-boxes.
SECOND FREE MAN. And they’re free too!
THIRD FREE MAN. Besides, we’ve been strictly forbidden to take shelter inside the sentry-boxes.
FIRST FREE MAN. You are the Free Men!
SECOND and THIRD FREE MEN (together). Yea, yea, we are the Free Men!
SCENE TWO
The same. LORD CORNHOLER, his valet JACK.
LORD CORNHOLER. Oh, really, the only noteworthy thing about this town is that it’s built entirely of houses, like any other town, and that all its houses look exactly like houses anywhere else. Too, too boring really. Oh, but I say, surely this must be the King’s palace ahead of us. - Jack!
The valet bows.
Do look up the word ‘palace’ in the dictionary, dear boy.
JACK (reading out). Palace: edifice constructed of blocks of granite, decorated with iron bars. Royal Palace, the Louvre: similar model, but with a gate in front presided over by guards whose function it is to ensure that no one gets in.
CORNHOLER. Well, it looks all right, but just to make sure, Jack, ask this guard if it really is the King’s palace.
JACK (to the FIRST FREE MAN). Soldier, is this the King’s palace?
SECOND FREE MAN (to the FIRST). Truth compels you to admit that we haven’t got a king and so this building can’t be the King’s palace. We are the Free Men!
FIRST FREE MAN (to the SECOND). Truth compels me ... ? Not at all. Being Free Men, we shouldn’t take orders even from truth itself. - Yes, mister foreigner, sir, this building is in fact the King’s palace.
CORNHOLER. Oh goody goody! Here’s a big tip for you. - Jack!
The valet bows.
Go and knock on the door and ask if I may have audience of the King.
The valet knocks.
SCENE THREE
The same, THE GAOLER.
GAOLER. Sorry, gentlemen, no entry.
CORNHOLER. Oh! this gentleman must be the gentleman who guards the King. Well, he shan’t get a tip from me since he won’t let English tourists in. (To the FIRST FREE MAN). Do you think you could persuade His Majesty to come to the door? I should adore to see the King in the flesh, and if he’ll do me this favour I’ll give him a big tip as a reward.
THIRD FREE MAN (to the FIRST). In the first place, there’s no king and no queen, either inside there or anywhere else in this country for that matter; in the second place, the people who are inside aren’t allowed
out.
FIRST FREE MAN. You’re right. (To LORD CORNHOLER.) Mister foreigner, sir, the king and queen who are in there emerge with their retinue every day to accept tips from English tourists!
CORNHOLER. Oh, hurray! I am grateful to you for the information. Here’s another tip for you to drink my health. - Jack! Pitch our tent and open some tins of corned beef. We shall camp here while awaiting audience of the King and the opportunity to kiss the hand of Her Gracious Majesty the Queen!
SCENE FOUR
The prison yard. PA UBU, MA UBU, CONVICTS, GUARDS.
THE CONVICTS. Hurrah for slavery! Hurrah for Pa Ubu!
PA UBU. Ma Ubu, do you happen to have a piece of string I could use to tie the links of my chains together more securely ? The balls are so heavy I’m afraid the chains may break when I try to walk.
MA UBU. Stupid clot!
PA UBU. Look, my iron collar’s coming undone and the manacles are so big they’re slipping off my wrists. If I’m not careful I’ll end up at liberty, stripped of these fine trappings, deprived of my escort and other honours, and forced to pay my own expenses!
GUARD. Hey, Mister Ubu, Sir, there’s your green cap flying over the windmills.
PA UBU. What windmills ? My headquarters is no longer that windmill on the hill in the Ukraine from which I commanded my army. Oh no, I don’t intend to get shot at ever again. But I miss my dear old phynance charger.
MA UBU. You were always complaining he wasn’t strong enough to carry you.