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)

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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 43

by Bertolt Brecht


  Down by the dock

  There’s wine and song. You weren’t in step.

  I’ll come along.

  Be sure of that.

  Who’ll pay the bill?

  They’ll chalk it up.

  Look at his grin!

  I’m off to the cattle market.

  To the little brunette? Hey, we’ll come along.

  No, three’s a crowd.

  You’ll put her off.

  Then

  We’re for the dog races.

  Man

  That costs money.

  Not if they know you.

  I’ll come along.

  Attention! Break ranks!

  March.

  4

  IN THE SCHOOLBOOKS

  A VOICE:

  From then on teachers would show the schoolchildren

  The great conqueror’s tomb.

  CHILDREN’S CHORUS:

  In the schoolbooks

  Are written the names of great conquerors.

  Whoever wants to emulate them

  Learns their battles by heart

  Studies their wonderful lives.

  To emulate them

  To rise above the crowd

  Is our task. Our city

  Is eager to write our names some day

  On the tablets of immortality.

  THE TEACHER:

  Sextus conquers Pontus.

  And you, Flaccus, conquer the three regions of Gaul.

  But you, Quintilian

  Cross over the Alps.

  5

  THE RECEPTION

  CHORUS:

  Ever since the newcomer has entered

  He has stood near the door, motionless, his helmet under his arm

  Like his own statue.

  The other dead who are newly arrived

  Crouch on the bench and wait as they have often waited

  For good fortune and for death

  Waited in the tavern until they got their wine

  Waited at the well until the lover came

  Waited in the wood, in battle, for the word of command.

  But the newcomer

  Does not seem to have learned how to wait.

  LUCULLUS:

  By Jupiter

  What does this mean? I stand and wait here.

  The greatest city on the globe still rings

  With lamentations for me, and here

  There is no one to receive me. Outside my war tent

  Seven kings once waited for me.

  Is there no order here?

  Where, at least, can Lasus my cook be?

  A man always able to whip up a little titbit

  Out of nothing at all!

  If, for example, they had sent him to meet me –

  For he is down here too –

  I should feel more at home. Oh, Lasus!

  Your lamb with the bayleaves and dill!

  Cappadocian roast game! Your lobsters from Pontus!

  And your Phrygian cakes with bitter berries!

  And the endless variety of your flavourings

  Sage and olives

  Thyme, nutmeg and pressed cinnamon.

  Such sauces, such salads, O Lasus!

  Pause.

  I demand to be conducted from this place.

  Pause.

  Must I stand here among these people?

  Pause.

  I object. Two hundred armoured ships, five legions

  Used to advance at the crook of my little finger.

  I object.

  Pause.

  TERTULLIA:

  Sit down, newcomer.

  All that metal you haul, the heavy helmet

  And the breastplate must be tiring.

  So sit down.

  Lucullus is silent.

  Don’t be arrogant. You can’t stand the whole time

  You must wait here. My turn comes before yours.

  No one can say how long the hearing inside will last.

  There’s no doubt that each one will be strictly examined

  To determined whether he shall be sentenced to go

  Down into dark Hades

  Or into the Elysian Fields. Sometimes

  The trial is quite short. One glance is enough for the judges.

  This one here, they say

  Has led a blameless life and he was able

  To be of use to his fellow men.

  With them a person’s usefulness counts the most.

  They say to him go take your rest.

  Of course with others

  The hearing may last for whole days, especially

  With those who have sent someone down here to the Realm of the Shadows

  Before the appointed span of his life was over.

  It won’t take long with the one who went in just now.

  He’s a harmless little baker. As for my affair

  I’m a little anxious, but put my faith in this –

  Among the jury within, they tell me

  There are little people who know well enough

  How hard life is for those of us in times of war.

  My advice to you, newcomer …

  VOICES OF THE THREE WOMEN HERALDS:

  Tertullia!

  TERTULLIA:

  They are calling me.

  You must see how it goes

  Newcomer – Sit down!

  CHORUS:

  The newcomer stands stubbornly on the sill

  But the burden of his decorations

  His own roaring

  And the friendly words of the old woman have changed him.

  He looks around to see if he is really alone.

  Now he goes to the bench after all. But before he can sit down

  He’ll be called. A glance at the old woman

  Was enough for the judge.

  VOICES OF THE THREE WOMEN HERALDS:

  Lakalles!

  LUCULLUS:

  My name is Lucullus! Isn’t my name known here?

  I come from a distinguished family

  Of statesmen and generals. Only in the slums

  In the docks and soldiers’ taverns, in the unwashed

  Jaws of the vulgar, the scum

  Is my name Lakalles.

  VOICES OF THE THREE WOMEN HERALDS:

  Lakalles!

  CHORUS:

  And so yet again called

  In the despised language of the slums

  Lucullus, the general

  Who conquered the East

  Who overthrew seven kings

  And filled the city of Rome with riches.

  At nightfall, when Rome sits down to the funeral feast

  Lucullus presents himself before the highest tribunal of the Realm of the Shadows.

  6

  CHOICE OF A SPONSOR

  THE COURT CRIER:

  Before the highest tribunal of the Realm of the Shadows appears

  General Lakalles, who calls himself Lucullus.

  Presided over by the Judge of the Dead

  Five jurors pursue the examination:

  One, formerly a farmer

  One, formerly a slave who was a teacher

  One, formerly a fishwife

  One, formerly a baker

  And one, formerly a courtesan.

  They sit upon a high bench

  Without hands to take and without mouths to eat

  Insensible to magnificence, these long-extinguished eyes

  Incorruptible, these ancestors of the world-to-come.

  The Judge of the Dead begins the hearing.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  Shadow, you shall be heard.

  You must account for your life among men.

  Whether you have served them or harmed them

  Whether we wish to see your face

  In the Elysian Fields.

  You need a sponsor.

  Have you a sponsor in the Elysian Fields?

  LUCULLUS:

  I propose the great Alexander of Macedon be called.


  Let him speak to you as an expert

  On deeds like mine.

  VOICES OF THE THREE WOMEN HERALDS call out in the Elysian

  Fields:

  Alexander of Macedon!

  Silence.

  VOICES OF THE THREE WOMEN HERALDS:

  In the Elysian Fields

  There is no Alexander of Macedon.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  The person called does not answer.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  Shadow, your expert is unknown

  In the Fields of the Blessed.

  LUCULLUS:

  What? He who conquered from Asia to India

  The never-to-be-forgotten one

  Who so indelibly pressed his footprint in the globe of the earth

  The mighty Alexander …

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  Is unknown here.

  Unhappy man! Great names

  No longer arouse terror down here.

  Here

  They can threaten no more. Their utterances

  Are counted as lies. Their deeds

  Are not recorded. And their fame

  To us is like smoke showing

  That a fire has once raged.

  Shadow, your attitude reveals

  That mighty enterprises

  Are connected with your name.

  The enterprises

  Are unknown here.

  LUCULLUS:

  Then I propose

  That the frieze from my memorial

  On which my triumphal procession is set forth, be fetched.

  But how can it be fetched? Slaves haul it. Surely

  Entrance is forbidden here

  To the living.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  Not to slaves. So little divides them

  From the dead that one can say

  They scarcely live. The step from the world above

  Down to the Realm of the Shadows

  Is to them a short one.

  The frieze shall be brought.

  VOICES OF THE THREE WOMEN HERALDS:

  The frieze shall be brought.

  7

  THE FRIEZE IS PRODUCED

  CHORUS OF SLAVES:

  Out of life into death

  Without protest, we haul the burden.

  Long ago our time ceased to be ours

  And the goal of our journey unknown.

  And so we follow the new voice

  Like the old. Why question it?

  We leave nothing behind; we expect nothing.

  LUCULLUS:

  You jurymen of the dead, look upon my frieze:

  A captured king, Tigranes of Pontus

  His strange-eyed queen with provocative thighs

  A man with a cherry tree, eating a cherry

  Two girls with a tablet, upon it the names of fifty-three cities

  A dying legionary, greeting his general

  My cook with a fish.

  CHORUS:

  O see, this is how they build themselves monuments

  With stony figures of vain sacrifice

  To speak or keep silence above.

  Lifeless witnesses, those who have been conquered

  Robbed of breath, silenced, forgotten

  Must face the daylight for their conqueror’s sake

  Willing to keep silent and willing to speak.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  Shadow, the jury take

  Note of your triumphal frieze.

  They wish to know more about your

  Triumphs than your frieze can tell.

  They suggest that all those should

  Be called who have been portrayed by you

  On your frieze.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  Let them be called.

  Always

  The victor writes the history of the vanquished.

  He who beats

  Distorts the faces of the beaten. The weaker

  Depart from this world and

  The lies remain. Down here we

  Have no need of your stones. So many

  Of those who crossed your path, General, are with us

  Down here – Instead of the portrayal

  We call those portrayed. We reject the stones

  For the shadows themselves.

  LUCULLUS:

  I object.

  I wish not to see them.

  VOICES OF THE THREE WOMEN HERALDS:

  The victims of General Lucullus And his Asiatic campaigns!

  The shadows of those portrayed on the triumphal frieze emerge from the background and stand opposite the frieze.

  8

  THE HEARING

  THE COURT CRIER:

  Bow, shadow

  These are your witnesses.

  LUCULLUS:

  I object.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  These are your witnesses.

  LUCULLUS:

  But they are enemies!

  Here you see one whom I vanquished.

  In these few days between new and full moon

  I defeated his army with all its

  Battle waggons and armoured cavalry.

  In these few days

  His empire crumbled like a hut struck by lightning.

  He began to fly when I appeared on his frontier

  And the first few days of the war

  Were scarcely enough for us both

  To reach the other frontier of his realm.

  So short was the campaign that a ham

  My cook had hung up to smoke

  Was not yet thoroughly cured when I returned.

  And of seven I struck down he was but one.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  Is that true, O King?

  THE KING:

  It is true.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  Your questions, jurors.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  At which the shadow

  Who was once a teacher puts a question.

  THE TEACHER:

  How did it happen?

  THE KING:

  As he says. We were attacked

  As the farmer loading hay

  Stood with raised fork

  His half-filled waggon was taken from him

  And strange hands seized the baker’s breadloaf

  Before it was fully baked. All that he says

  Concerning the lightning that strikes a hut is true. The hut is destroyed. Here

  Is the lightning.

  THE TEACHER:

  And of seven you were …

  THE KING:

  But one.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  Jurymen of the dead

  Consider the testimony of the king.

  Silence.

  And the shadow who was once a courtesan

  Puts a question.

  THE COURTESAN:

  You there, O Queen

  How did you get here?

  THE QUEEN:

  One day by the Taurion I

  Went to bathe there early

  From among the olive trees

  Down came fifty strangers.

  Those men were my conquerors.

  Had no weapon but a sponge

  In the limpid water.

  And their armour shielded me

  Only for a moment.

  Quickly I was conquered.

  Fearfully I looked around

  Shrieking for my maidens

  While the maidens fearfully

  Shrieked from out the bushes.

  We were all assaulted.

  THE COURTESAN:

  And why do you walk here in the procession?

  THE QUEEN:

  Oh, as a proof of the victory.

  THE COURTESAN:

  What victory, the one over you?

  THE QUEEN:

  And the lovely Taurion.

  THE COURTESAN:

  And what does he call a triumph?

  THE QUEEN:

  That the king, my husband

 
Could not with his whole army

  Protect his property

  From prodigious Rome.

  THE COURTESAN:

  Sister, then our fates are the same.

  For I too

  Found prodigious Rome

  No shield against prodigious Rome.

  When I was on the love market –

  Which I was from sixteen on –

  I got curses and beatings daily

  All for a drop of oil and lousy pasta.

  Makes me know how you’ll have suffered

  On that frightful day

  And I feel with you, poor lady.

  THE COURT CRIER:

  Jurymen of the dead

  Consider the testimony of the queen.

  Pause.

  THE JUDGE OF THE DEAD:

  Shadow, do you wish to proceed?

  LUCULLUS:

  Yes, I mark well how the conquered

  Have a sweet voice. However

  Once it was rougher. This king here

  Who captures your sympathy, when he was in power

  Was especially ruthless. In taxes and tribute

  He took no less than I.

  The silver whose production he favoured

  Did not pass through him to the people.

  THE TEACHER to the king:

  Why then

  Are you here amongst us, King?

  THE KING:

  Because I built cities

  Because I defended them when you

  Romans demanded them from us.

  THE TEACHER:

  Not we, him!

  THE KING:

  Because, to defend my country, I summoned

  Man, wife and child

  In hedgerow and waterhole

  With axe, billhook and ploughshare

  By day, by night

  By their speech, by their silence

  Free or captive

  In face of the enemy

  In face of death.

  THE TEACHER:

  I propose that we all

  Rise to our feet before this witness

  And in honour of those

  Who defended their cities.

  The jurors rise.

  LUCULLUS:

  What sort of Romans are you?

  Your enemy gets your plaudits!

  I did not act for myself

  I acted on orders

  I was sent by

  Rome.

  THE TEACHER:

  Rome! Rome! Rome!

  Who is Rome?

  Were you sent by the masons who built her?

  Were you sent by the bakers and fishermen

  And the peasants and the carters

  And the gardeners who feed her?

  Was it the tailors and the furriers

  And the weavers and the sheepshearers who clothe her?

  Were you sent by the marble-polishers

  And the wool-dyers who beautify her?

  Or were you sent by the tax-farmers

  And the silver merchants and the slave dealers

  And the bankers of the Forum who plunder her?

  Silence.

  LUCULLUS:

  Whoever sent me:

  Rome won

  Fifty-three cities, thanks to me.

  THE TEACHER:

  And where are they?

  Jurors, let us question the cities.

 

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