Brecht Collected Plays: 6: Good Person of Szechwan; The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui; Mr Puntila and his Man Matti (World Classics)

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Brecht Collected Plays: 6: Good Person of Szechwan; The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui; Mr Puntila and his Man Matti (World Classics) Page 10

by Bertolt Brecht


  Daring enormous tempests

  Flying through the heavens and bringing

  To friends in far countries

  The friendly post.

  Interlude

  in front of the curtain

  Shen Teh enters, carrying Shui Ta’s mask and costume, and sings the

  SONG OF THE DEFENCELESSNESS OF THE GOOD AND THE GODS

  SHEN TEH:

  In our country

  The capable man needs luck. Only

  If he has mighty backers

  Can he prove his capacity.

  The good

  Have no means of helping themselves and the gods are powerless.

  So why can’t the gods launch a great operation

  With bombers and battleships, tanks and destroyers

  And rescue the good by a ruthless invasion?

  Then maybe the wicked would cease to annoy us.

  She puts on Shui Ta’s costume and takes a few steps in his way of walking.

  The good

  Cannot remain good for long in our country

  Where cupboards are bare, housewives start to squabble.

  Oh, the divine commandments

  Are not much use against hunger.

  So why can’t the gods share out what they’ve created

  Come down and distribute the bounties of nature

  And allow us, once hunger and thirst have been sated

  To mix with each other in friendship and pleasure?

  She dons Shui Ta’s mask and sings on in his voice.

  In order to win one’s mid-day meal

  One needs the toughness which elsewhere builds empires.

  Except twelve others be trampled down

  The unfortunate cannot be helped.

  So why can’t the gods make a simple decision

  That goodness must conquer in spite of its weakness? –

  Then back up the good with an armoured division

  Command it to: ‘fire!’ and not tolerate meekness?

  5

  The Tobacconist’s

  Shui Ta sits behind the counter and reads the paper. He takes no notice of Mrs Shin, who is cleaning the place and talking.

  MRS SHIN: A small business like this soon goes downhill, believe me, once certain rumours get around locally. This shady affair between the young lady and that fellow Yang Sun from the Yellow Alley, it was high time a proper gentleman like you came and cleared it up. Don’t forget that Mr Shu Fu, the hairdresser next door, a gentleman who owns twelve houses and has only one wife, and an old one at that, hinted to me yesterday that he took a rather flattering interest in the young lady. He went so far as to ask about her financial standing. I’d say that showed real partiality.

  Getting no answer, she finally leaves with her bucket.

  SUN’S VOICE, from outside: Is this Miss Shen Teh’s shop?

  MRS SHIN’S VOICE: Yes. But her cousin’s there today.

  Shui Ta runs to a mirror, with Shen Teh’s light steps, and is just beginning to arrange his hair when he realises his mistake. He turns away with a soft laugh. Enter Yang Sun. Behind him appears the inquisitive Mrs Shin. She goes past him into the back of the shop.

  SUN: I am Yang Sun. Shui Ta bows. Is Shen Teh in?

  SHUI TA: No, she is not in.

  SUN: But I expect you’re in the picture about me and her? He begins to take stock of the shop. A real shop, large as life. I always thought she was putting it on a bit. He examines the boxes and china pots with satisfaction. Oh boy, I’m going to be flying again. He helps himself to a cigar, and Shui Ta gives him a light. Do you think we can squeeze another 300 dollars out of the business?

  SHUI TA: May I ask: is it your intention to proceed to an immediate sale?

  SUN: Why? Have we got the 300 in cash? Shui Ta shakes his head. It was good of her to produce the 200 at once. But I’ve got to have the other 300 or I’m stuck.

  SHUI TA: Perhaps she was a bit hasty in offering you the money. It may cost her her business. They say, haste is the wind that blew the house down.

  SUN: I need it now or not at all. And the girl’s not one to hesitate when it’s a question of giving. Between ourselves, she hasn’t hesitated much so far.

  SHUI TA: Really?

  SUN: All to her credit, of course.

  SHUI TA: May I ask how the 500 dollars will be used?

  SUN: Why not? As you seem to be checking up on me. The airport superintendent in Pekin is a friend of mine from flying school, and he can get me the job if I cough up 500

  silver dollars.

  SHUI TA: Isn’t that an unusually large sum?

  SUN: No. He has got to prove negligence against a highly conscientious pilot with a large family. You get me? That’s between us, by the way, and there’s no need for Shen Teh to know.

  SHUI TA: Perhaps not. One point though: won’t the superintendent be selling you up the river a month later?

  SUN: Not me. No negligence with me. I’ve been long enough without a job.

  SHUI TA nods: It is the hungry dog who pulls the cart home quickest. He studies him for a moment or two: That’s a very big responsibility. You are asking my cousin, Mr Yang Sun, to give up her small property and all her friends in this town, and to place herself entirely in your hands. I take it your intention is to marry Shen Teh?

  SUN: I’d be prepared to.

  SHUI TA: Then wouldn’t it be a pity to let the business go for a few silver dollars? You won’t get much for a quick sale. The 200 silver dollars that you’ve already got would guarantee the rent for six months. Do you not feel at all tempted to carry on the tobacconist’s business?

  SUN: What, me? Have people see Yang Sun the pilot serving behind a counter? ‘Good morning, sir; do you prefer Turkish or Virginia?’ That’s no career for Yang Suns, not in the twentieth century!

  SHUI TA: And is flying a career, may I ask?

  SUN takes a letter from his pocket: They’re paying me 250 silver dollars a month, sir. Here is the letter; see for yourself. Look at the stamp, postmarked Pekin.

  SHUI TA: 250 silver dollars? That is a lot.

  SUN: Do you think I’d fly for nothing?

  SHUI TA: It sounds like a good job. Mr Yang Sun, my cousin has asked me to help you get this pilot’s job which means so much to you. Looking at it from her point of view I see no insuperable objection to her following the bidding of her heart. She is fully entitled to share in the delights of love. I am prepared to realise everything here. Here comes Mrs Mi Tzu, the landlady; I will ask her advice about the sale.

  MRS MI TZU enters: Good morning, Mr Shui Ta. I suppose it’s about your rent that’s due the day after tomorrow?

  SHUI TA: Mrs Mi Tzu, circumstances have arisen which make it doubtful whether my cousin will carry on with the business. She is contemplating marriage, and her future husband – he introduces Yang Sun – Mr Yang Sun, is taking her to Pekin where they wish to start a new life. If I can get a good price for my tobacco I shall sell it.

  MRS MI TZU: How much do you need?

  SUN: 300 in cash.

  SHUI TA, quickly: No, no. 500!

  MRS MI TZU, to Sun: Perhaps I can help you out. How much did your stock cost?

  SHUI TA: My cousin originally paid 1000 silver dollars, and very little of it has been sold.

  MRS MI TZU: 1000 silver dollars! She was swindled, of course. I’ll make you an offer: you can have 300 silver dollars for the whole business, if you move out the day after tomorrow.

  SUN: All right. That’s it, old boy!

  SHUI TA: It’s too little!

  SUN: It’s enough!

  SHUI TA: I must have at least 500.

  SUN: What for?

  SHUI TA: May I just discuss something with my cousin’s fiancé? Aside to Sun: All this stock of tobacco is pledged to two old people against the 200 silver dollars which you got yesterday.

  SUN, slowly: Is there anything about it in writing?

  SHUI TA: No.

  SUN, to Mrs Mi Tzu after a short pause: 300 will do us.<
br />
  MRS MI TZU: But I have to be sure that the business has no outstanding debts.

  SUN: You answer.

  SHUI TA: The business has no outstanding debts.

  SUN: How soon can we have the 300?

  MRS MI TZU: The day after tomorrow, and you had better think it over. Put the sale off for a month and you will get more. I can offer you 300, and that’s only because I’m glad to help where it seems to be a case of young love. Exit.

  SUN, calling after her: It’s a deal! Lock, stock and barrel for 300, and our troubles are over. To Shui Ta: I suppose we might get a better offer in the next two days? Then we could even pay back the 200.

  SHUI TA: Not in the time. We shan’t get a single dollar over Mrs Mi Tzu’s 300. Have you got the money for both your tickets, and enough to tide you over?

  SUN: Sure.

  SHUI TA: How much?

  SUN: Anyway, I’ll raise it even if I have to steal it!

  SHUI TA: Oh, so that’s another sum that has to be raised?

  SUN: Don’t worry, old boy. I’ll get to Pekin all right.

  SHUI TA: It costs quite a bit for two.

  SUN: Two? I’m leaving the girl here. She’d only be a liability at first.

  SHUI TA: I see.

  SUN: Why do you look at me as if I was something the cat had brought in? Beggars can’t be choosers.

  SHUI TA: And what is my cousin to live on?

  SUN: Can’t you do something for her?

  SHUI TA: I will look into it. Pause. I should like you to hand me back the 200 silver dollars, Mr Yang Sun, and leave them with me until you are in a position to show me two tickets to Pekin.

  SUN: My dear cousin, I should like you to mind your own business.

  SHUI TA: Miss Shen Teh …

  SUN: You just leave her to me.

  SHUI TA: … may not wish to proceed with the sale of her business when she hears …

  SUN: O yes she will.

  SHUI TA: And you are not afraid of what I may have to say against it?

  SUN: My dear man!

  SHUI TA: You seem to forget that she is flesh and blood, and has a mind of her own.

  SUN, amused: It astounds me what people imagine about their female relations and the effect of sensible argument. Haven’t they ever told you about the power of love, the twitching of the flesh? You want to appeal to her reason? She hasn’t any reason! All she’s had is a life-time of ill-treatment, poor thing! If I put my hand on her shoulder and say ‘You’re coming with me,’ she’ll hear bells and not recognise her own mother.

  SHUI TA, laboriously: My Yang Sun!

  SUN: Mr … whatever your name is!

  SHUI TA: My cousin is indebted to you because …

  SUN: Let’s say because I’ve got my hand inside her blouse? Stuff that in your pipe and smoke it! He takes another cigar, then sticks a few in his pocket, and finally puts the box under his arm. You’re not to go to her empty-handed: we’re getting married, and that’s settled. And she’ll bring the 300 with her or else you will: either her or you. Exit.

  MRS SHIN sticks her head out of the back room: How very disagreeable! And the whole Yellow Alley knows that he’s got the girl exactly where he wants her.

  SHUI TA, crying out: The business has gone! He’s not in love. This means ruin. I am lost! He begins to rush round like a captive animal, continually repeating, ‘The business has gone!’ – until he suddenly stops and addresses Mrs Shin: Mrs Shin, you grew up in the gutter and so did I. Are we irresponsible? No. Do we lack the necessary brutality? No. I am ready to take you by the scruff of the neck and shake you until you spit out the farthing you stole from me, and you know it. Times are frightful, the town is hell, but we scrabble up the naked walls. Then one of us is overcome by disaster: he is in love. That is enough, he is lost. A single weakness, and you can be shovelled away. How can one remain free of every weakness, above all of the most deadly, of love? It is intolerable! It costs too much! Tell me, has one got to spend one’s whole life on the look-out? What sort of world do we live in?

  Love’s caresses merge in strangulation.

  Love’s sighs grow into a scream of fear.

  What are the vultures hovering for?

  A girl is keeping an appointment.

  MRS SHIN: I think I had better fetch the barber. You must talk to the barber. He is a man of honour. The barber: that’s the right man for your cousin.

  Getting no answer, she hurries away. Shui Ta continues rushing around until Mr Shu Fu enters, followed by Mrs Shin, who however is forced to withdraw at a gesture from Mr Shu Fu.

  SHUI TA turns to him: My dear sir, rumour has it that you have shown a certain interest in my cousin. You must allow me to set aside the laws of propriety, which call for a measure of reserve, for the young lady is at the moment in great danger.

  MR SHU FU: Oh!

  SHUI TA: Proprietress of her own business until a few hours ago, my cousin is now little more than a beggar. Mr Shu Fu, this shop is bankrupt.

  MR SHU FU: Mr Shui Ta, Miss Shen Teh’s attraction lies less in the soundness of her business than in the goodness of her heart. You can tell a lot from the name they give the young lady around here: The Angel of the Slums!

  SHUI TA: My dear sir, this goodness has cost my cousin 200 silver dollars in a single day! There are limits.

  MR SHU FU: Allow me to put forward a different opinion: is it not time that all limits to this goodness were removed? It is the young lady’s nature to do good. What is the sense of her feeding four people, as she so moves me by doing every morning! Why should she not feed four hundred? I hear for instance that she is desperate to find shelter for a few homeless. My buildings across the cattleyard are unoccupied. They are at her disposal. And so on and so forth. Mr Shui Ta, have I the right to hope that such thoughts as these which I have lately been entertaining may find a willing listener in Miss Shen Teh?

  SHUI TA: Mr Shu Fu, she will listen with admiration to such lofty thoughts.

  Enter Wang with the policeman. Mr Shu Fu turns round and examines the shelves.

  WANG: Is Miss Shen Teh here?

  SHUI TA: No.

  WANG: I am Wang, the water-seller. I suppose you are Mr Shui Ta?

  SHUI TA: Quite correct. Good morning, Wang.

  WANG: I am a friend of Shen Teh’s.

  SHUI TA: I know that you are one of her closest friends.

  WANG, to the policeman: See? To Shui Ta: I have come about my hand.

  THE POLICEMAN: He can’t use it, there’s no denying.

  SHUI TA, quickly: I see you want a sling for your arm. He fetches a shawl from the back room and tosses it to Wang.

  WANG: But that’s her new shawl.

  SHUI TA: She won’t need it.

  WANG: But she bought it specially to please a particular person.

  SHUI TA: As things have turned out that is no longer necessary.

  WANG makes a sling out of the shawl: She is my only witness.

  THE POLICEMAN: Your cousin is supposed to have seen Shu Fu the barber strike the water-carrier with his curling-tongs.

  Do you know anything about that?

  SHUI TA: I only know that my cousin was not present when this slight incident took place.

  WANG: It’s a misunderstanding! When Shen Teh comes she will clear it all up. Shen Teh will bear me out. Where is she?

  SHUI TA, seriously: Mr Wang, you call yourself my cousin’s friend. At the moment my cousin has really serious worries.

  She has been disgracefully exploited on all sides. From now on she cannot permit herself the slightest weakness. I am convinced that you will not ask her to ruin herself utterly by testifying in your case to anything but the truth.

  WANG, puzzled: But she told me to go to the magistrate.

  SHUI TA: Was the magistrate supposed to cure your hand?

  THE POLICEMAN: No. But he was to make the barber pay up.

  Mr Shu Fu turns round.

  SHUI TA: Mr Wang, one of my principles is never to interfere in a disput
e between my friends.

  Shui Ta bows to Mr Shu Fu, who bows back.

  WANG, sadly, as he takes off the sling and puts it back: I see.

  THE POLICEMAN: Which means I can go, eh? You tried your game on the wrong man, on a proper gentleman that is. You be a bit more careful with your complaints next time, fellow.

  If Mr Shu Fu doesn’t choose to waive his legal rights you can still land in the cells for defamation. Get moving!

  Both exeunt.

  SHUI TA: I beg you to excuse this episode.

  MR SHU FU: It is excused. Urgently: And this business about a ‘particular person’? He points to the shawl. Is it really over?

  Finished and done with?

  SHUI TA: Completely. She has seen through him. Of course, it will take time for it all to heal.

  MR SHU FU: One will be careful, considerate.

  SHUI TA: Her wounds are fresh.

  MR SHU FU: She will go away to the country.

  SHUI TA: For a few weeks. But she will be glad to talk things over first with someone she can trust.

  MR SHU FU: Over a little supper, in a small but good restaurant.

  SHUI TA: Discreetly. I shall hasten to inform my cousin. She will show her good sense. She is greatly upset about her business, which she regards as a gift from the gods. Please be so good as to wait for a few minutes. Exit into the back room.

  MRS SHIN sticks her head in: Can we congratulate you?

  MR SHU FU: You can. Mrs Shin, will you tell Shen Teh’s dependants from me before tonight that I am giving them shelter in my buildings across the yard?

  She grins and nods.

  MR SHU FU, standing up, to the audience: What do you think of me, ladies and gentlemen? Could one do more? Could one be more unselfish? More delicate? More far-sighted? A little supper. How crude and vulgar that would normally sound. Yet there will be nothing of that kind, not a thing. No contact, not even an apparently accidental touch when passing the salt. All that will happen will be an exchange of ideas. Two souls will discover one another, across the flowers on the table – white chrysanthemums, by the way. He notes it down. No, this will be no exploiting of an unfortunate situation, no profiting from a disappointment. Understanding and assistance will be offered, but almost unspoken. By a glance alone will they be acknowledged, a glance that can also signify rather more.

 

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