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Brecht Collected Plays: 4: Round Heads & Pointed Heads; Fear & Misery of the Third Reich; Senora Carrar's Rifles; Trial of Lucullus; Dansen; How Much Is ... and Misery , Carr (World Classics)

Page 32

by Bertolt Brecht


  THE COURT CRIER:

  And there is silence.

  The jurymen of the dead

  Consider the testimony of the cities.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  The accused seems tired.

  I allow a recess.

  10

  ROME

  THE COURT CRIER:

  And the judge goes away.

  The accused sits down.

  He crouches by the railing

  And leans back his head. He is exhausted, but he overhears

  Talk behind the door

  Where new shadows have appeared.

  A SHADOW:

  I came to grief through an oxcart.

  LUCULLUS softly:

  Oxcart.

  THE SHADOW:

  It brought a load of sand to a building site.

  LUCULLUS softly:

  Building site. Sand.

  ANOTHER SHADOW:

  Isn’t it meal time now?

  LUCULLUS softly:

  Meal time?

  FIRST SHADOW:

  I had my bread and onions

  With me. I haven’t a room any more.

  The horde of slaves

  They herd in from every spot under heaven

  Has ruined the shoemaking business.

  SECOND SHADOW:

  I too was a slave.

  Say rather, the lucky

  Catch the unlucky’s bad luck.

  LUCULLUS somewhat louder:

  You there, is there wind up above?

  SECOND SHADOW:

  Hark, someone’s asking a question.

  FIRST SHADOW loudly:

  Whether there’s wind up above? Perhaps.

  There may be in the gardens.

  In the suffocating alleys

  You don’t notice it.

  11

  THE HEARING IS CONTINUED

  THE COURT CRIER:

  The jurymen return.

  The hearing begins again.

  And the shadow that was once a fishwife

  Speaks.

  THE FISHWIFE:

  There was talk of gold.

  I too lived in Rome.

  Yet I never noticed any gold where I lived.

  I’d like to know where it went.

  LUCULLUS:

  What a question!

  Should I and my legions set out

  To capture a new stool for a fishwife?

  THE FISHWIFE:

  Though you brought nothing to us in the fish market

  Still you took something from us in the fish market:

  Our sons.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  And the jurywoman

  Speaks to the warriors in the frieze.

  THE FISHWIFE:

  Tell me, what happened to you in the two Asias?

  FIRST WARRIOR:

  I ran away.

  SECOND WARRIOR:

  And I was wounded.

  FIRST WARRIOR:

  I dragged him along.

  SECOND WARRIOR:

  So then he fell too.

  THE FISHWIFE:

  Why did you leave Rome?

  FIRST WARRIOR:

  I was hungry.

  THE FISHWIFE:

  And what did you get there?

  SECOND WARRIOR:

  I got nothing.

  THE FISHWIFE:

  You stretch out your hands.

  Is that to greet your general?

  SECOND WARRIOR:

  It was to show him

  They were still empty.

  LUCULLUS:

  I protest.

  I rewarded the legionaries

  After each campaign.

  THE FISHWIFE:

  But not the dead.

  LUCULLUS:

  I protest.

  How can war be judged

  By those who do not understand it?

  THE FISHWIFE:

  I understand it. My son

  Fell in the war.

  I was a fishwife in the market at the Forum.

  One day it was reported that the ships

  Returning from the Asian war

  Had docked. I ran from the market place

  And I stood by the Tiber for many hours

  Where they were being unloaded and in the evening

  All the ships were empty and my son

  Came down none of the gangplanks.

  Since it was chilly by the harbour at night

  I fell into a fever, and in the fever sought my son

  And ever seeking him more deeply

  I grew more chilled, died, came here

  Into the Realm of Shadows, and still sought him.

  Faber, I cried, for that was his name.

  And I ran and ran through shadows

  And from shadow to shadow

  Crying Faber, until a gatekeeper over there

  In the camp of fallen warriors

  Caught me by the sleeve and said:

  Old woman, there are many Fabers here, many

  Mothers’ sons, many, deeply mourned

  But they have forgotten their names

  Which only served to line them up in the army

  And are no longer needed here. And their mothers

  They do not wish to meet again

  Because they let them go to the bloody war.

  And I stood, held by my sleeve

  And my cries died out in my mouth.

  Silently I turned away, for I desired no longer

  To look upon my son’s face.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  And the Judge of the Dead

  Seeks the eyes of the jurymen and announces:

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  The court recognises that the mother of the fallen

  Understands war.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  The jurymen of the dead

  Consider the testimony of the warriors.

  Silence.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  But the jurywoman is moved

  And in her trembling hands

  The scales may tip. She needs

  A recess.

  12

  ROME, ONCE AGAIN

  THE COURT CRIER:

  And again

  The accused sits down and listens

  To the talk of the shadows behind the door.

  Once again a breath is wafted in

  From the world above.

  SECOND SHADOW:

  And why did you run so?

  FIRST SHADOW:

  To make an enquiry. It got about that they were recruiting

  Legionaries in the taverns by the Tiber for the war in the

  West

  Which is now to be conquered. The land is called Gaul.

  SECOND SHADOW:

  Never heard of it.

  FIRST SHADOW:

  Only the big folks know these countries.

  13

  THE HEARING IS CONTINUED

  THE COURT CRIER:

  And the Judge smiles at the jurywoman

  Calls the accused and regards him sadly.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  Our time runs out. You do not make use of it.

  Anger us no more with your triumphs!

  Have you no witnesses

  To any of your weaknesses, mortal?

  Your business goes badly. Your virtues

  Seem to be of little use.

  Perhaps your weaknesses will leave some loopholes

  In the chain of violent deeds.

  I counsel you, shadow

  Recollect your weaknesses.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  And the juryman who was once a baker

  Puts a question.

  THE BAKER:

  Yonder I see a cook with a fish.

  He seems cheerful. Cook

  Tell us how you came to be in the triumphal procession.

  THE COOK:

  Only to show

  That even while waging war

  He found time to discover a recipe for cooki
ng fish.

  I was his cook. Often

  I think of the beautiful meat

  The gamefowl and the black venison

  Which he made me roast.

  And he not only sat at table

  But gave me a word of praise

  Stood over the pots with me

  And himself mixed a dish.

  Lamb à la Lucullus

  Made our kitchen famous.

  From Syria to Pontus

  They spoke of Lucullus’s cook.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  And the juror who was once a teacher says:

  THE TEACHER:

  What is it to us that he liked to eat?

  THE COOK:

  But he let me cook

  To my heart’s content. I thank him for it.

  THE BAKER:

  I understand him, I who was a baker.

  How often I had to mix bran with the dough

  Because my customers were poor. This fellow here

  Could be an artist.

  THE COOK:

  Thanks to him!

  In the triumph

  He ranked me next to the kings

  And gave my art recognition. That is why I call him human. (9)

  And I know

  That in Amisus, the daughter city of splendid Athens

  Brimming with art treasures and books

  His rapacious troops promised not to burn it.

  Wet with tears he returned to his supper.

  That too was human, mark you.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  There was silence. The jurymen consider

  The testimony of the cook.

  Silence.

  And the juryman who was once a farmer

  Puts a question.

  THE FARMER:

  Over there is someone too who carries a fruit tree.

  THE TREE BEARER:

  This is a cherry tree.

  We brought it from Asia. In the triumphal procession

  We carried it along. And we planted it

  On the slopes of the Apennines.

  THE FARMER:

  Oh, so it was you, Lakalles, who brought it?

  I once planted it too, but I did not know

  That you introduced it.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  And with a friendly smile

  The juryman who was once a farmer

  Discusses with the shadow

  Who was once a general

  The cherry tree.

  THE FARMER:

  It needs little soil.

  LUCULLUS:

  But it doesn’t like the wind.

  THE FARMER:

  The red cherries have more meat.

  LUCULLUS:

  And the black are sweeter.

  THE FARMER:

  My friends, this of all the detestable souvenirs

  Conquered in bloody battle

  I call the best. For this sapling lives.

  It is a new and friendly companion

  To the vine and the abundant berrybush

  And growing with the growing generations

  Bears fruit for them. And I congratulate you

  Who brought it to us. When all the booty of conquest

  From both Asias has long mouldered away

  This finest of all your trophies

  Renewed each year for the living

  Shall in spring flutter its white-flowered branches

  In the wind from the hills.

  14

  THE WHEAT AND THE CHAFF (10)

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  And so I close the hearing.

  Among your witnesses, shadow

  The most brilliant did not serve you best. In the end however

  Some small ones came forward. Not wholly empty

  Were your bloody hands. Of course your

  Best contribution was a very costly one; the cherry tree:

  You could have paid for that conquest with just one more man.

  But eighty thousand were what you sent below. Against that

  We must set a few happy moments for your cook, tears

  For damaged books and suchlike trivialities.

  Alas, all that violence and victory serves to extend just one realm

  The realm of shadows!

  THE JURORS OF THE DEAD:

  But we who are chosen to judge the dead

  Observe, on their departure from the earth, what they gave it.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  And from the high bench they rise up

  The spokesmen of the world-to-be

  Of those with many hands, to take

  Of those with many mouths, to eat

  Of the rarely gullible, eagerly gathering

  Joyful world-to-be.

  The court

  Withdraws for consultation.

  Notes and Variants

  ROUND HEADS AND POINTED HEADS

  Texts by Brecht

  ‘MEASURE FOR MEASURE, OR THE SALT TAX’ (1931)

  Act One, scene 1

  Duke. Eskaler. Sitting over the books.

  DUKE:

  Now it’s enough, Eskaler.

  The day is dawning: all our endless sums,

  Creative twists, accounting sleights of hand

  Have demonstrated, each and every time,

  Precisely what we can’t afford to know,

  And what, if we sat here till doomsday counting,

  Would always be the outcome: the economic

  Meltdown of the state. In short: we’re bankrupt.

  ESKALER:

  My lord!

  DUKE:

  A stronger hand than mine is needed now,

  I’d fain withdraw a while from public view

  To think things over. There is our commission.

  For now a stronger man must take my place,

  Undaunted by the task in hand and eager.

  Call hither, no, bid Angeler approach.

  Exit servant.

  How well d’you think he’ll represent my office?

  For you must know, I have a special purpose

  Electing him our absence to supply;

  I’ve lent him all our power of justice and

  Of mercy, furnished him with all the organs

  Of our power! But speak – what think you of it?

  ESKALER:

  If any in Vienna be of worth

  To take on such a matter

  It is Graf Angeler.

  SERVANT:

  Graf Angeler.

  DUKE:

  Bid him come in.

  Enter Angeler.

  ANGELER:

  Always obedient to Your Grace’s will,

  I come to know your pleasure.

  DUKE:

  Angeler!

  You oughtn’t so to hide yourself!

  Yourself and your wise words are not your own!

  God does with us as we with torches do,

  Not light them for themselves. So too our power.

  If it should not go forth from us – it were

  As well we had it not. But to the point.

  The finances of state – you know – lie ruined.

  And what tomorrow holds is anybody’s guess.

  And so it’s up to us to hold the fort

  Until new money streams from sources new.

  The two of us have reckoned all the night

  And think we’ve found a way …

  [… and so on. This abrupt first scene then ends, a page later:]

  DUKE:

  So fare you well.

  ESKALER:

  May God be with you.

  ANGELER:

  Come back well rested, sire.

  DUKE:

  I thank you both. Exit.

  ESKALER:

  As I, dear Angeler, am now your subject,

  I’d know what role you have in mind for me?

  ANGELER:

  For now I’ll take the government to myself

  Since I bear all responsibility.

  In detai
l, well, I’d rather not commit.

  Yet straight away I’ll give you one word, Eskaler:

  Reform. And now I beg you to excuse me.

  ESKALER:

  Of course.

  Exit Angeler.

  ESKALER:

  Reform.

  Reform. (In the beginning was the word.)

  Exit.

  [BBA 266 (9/10), 264 (50) and 262 (01/02). These are the most important folders of material for this play (see also Editorial Note, below); and these sheets represent the very first stage of the Shakespeare adaptation, such as it has survived. Brecht’s text is typed beneath stuck-on pages cut out from the standard German translation, from which Brecht has borrowed only a few lines and phrases. In most cases he has subjected even these to a process of simplification and colloquialisation, which we have attempted to represent by similarly abusing Shakespeare’s original.]

  CHEATED HOPES

  On our travels through Peru we met a tenant farmer and his family living in indescribable misery. A conversation with the farmer revealed that these unfortunate people had sunk to such unimaginable depths of poverty not because of despair, as we had thought, but rather because of hope, a commodity of which they had rather more than of other things. The farmer told us how, towards the end of the previous year after a poor harvest, he could see no way, after he had paid the rents and dues which were too high in any case, that he could buy in winter provisions for his family and above all for his cows. Unable to help himself by other means, with a hardhearted landlord and an uninterested government, he had been on the point of joining the Association of the Black Flag, which was then rallying the discontented farmers in preparation for an uprising. Given the feebleness of the government and the parlous state of the economy, the farmers’ movement had been not without prospects. Like most Czuchish* farmers he had, however, been dissuaded when the anti-Czich Thomaso Angelas, a schoolteacher from Lima, took the reins of government. Angelas had the reputation of being a friend of the people and, coming himself from the lower classes, he seemed originally to have genuinely populist intentions. And indeed, there was a proper lawsuit against the landlord, a Czich, in which the landlord was even condemned to death, albeit not for rack-renting but for seducing the farmer’s daughter. At the time this affair had in fact brought the family some relief, and had enabled the girl to get into a public brothel in Lima. And in this explication of a judgement apparently so favourable lay the seeds of all the farmer’s further misfortunes.

  [BFA 19, p. 337. This sketch from 1932 may have originally been intended as an independent short story.]

  NOTES FOR DRAWINGS

  1

  Two Round Heads reading the newspaper. The Viceroy of Yahoo and his advisor learn from the press that the country is bankrupt. (Champagne bottles, cigars.)

  The Viceroy receives the racial theorist Iberin. The Privy Councillor introduces him.

  ‘I hear that you’ve discovered what has caused

 

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