Bertolt Brecht: Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder 1

by Bertolt Brecht

  WIFE: Oh, it’s you, Mac? Well, well, there he is, full as a herring barrel. Not much in his barrels, though.

  FISHERMAN: That’s not right. All my best ideas come to me when I go on the booze.

  WIFE: And how’s that going to feed us?

  FISHERMAN: You don’t need food when you’ve been boozing.

  SECOND MAN: The right place for you is bed.

  FISHERMAN: He’s worse than I am. He’ll pass out as soon as he sits down. Can’t take it. Tacking about like a yawl in a squall. Give him a coffee.

  WIFE: Expect me to cook in the middle of the night?

  FIRST MAN: Not for my sake, Missus.

  FISHERMAN: Would you rather I came home in the morning? Get along into that kitchen! And make it hot.

  WOMAN exits right: Wish the drink would kill you.

  FIRST MAN: Not much fun for her.

  FISHERMAN: It isn’t for anybody. God, I’m sleepy. Missus!

  WIFE returning: What are you yelling about now?

  FISHERMAN: Give us a wash.

  WIFE: At this time of night?

  FISHERMAN: Wash, wash, wash. I shut my eyes and there’s the sky as pink as a bloody rosebush. Like the Kingdom of Heaven, except it makes me belch.

  The wife washes his head. He almost drops off to sleep.

  SECOND MAN grinning: Just out of bed.

  FIRST MAN: That’s not hard to see.

  SECOND MAN: Makes them look like ruffled cats.

  FIRST MAN: She’s got some meat on her.

  SECOND MAN: He’s a bloody fool.

  FISHERMAN: Sod it. I left my pipe across the road. Get it, woman.

  WIFE: In my nightdress?

  FIRST MAN: One of us could go.

  SECOND MAN: Yes, one of us could go.

  FIRST MAN: Shall I?

  SECOND MAN to the wife: Tisn’t a night for you to be going over there.

  FIRST MAN: Their eyes would pop out of their head.

  SECOND MAN: I’ll go.

  FIRST MAN: I don’t mind going.

  Nobody moves.

  WIFE: They’ll laugh at me over there.

  SECOND MAN: All right, one of us’ll go.

  FIRST MAN: It wouldn’t take a moment for one of us, really.

  SECOND MAN: Isn’t as if it were all that far.

  FIRST MAN: No reason why you should go out in your nightdress for him.

  SECOND MAN: Can’t have that.

  FIRST MAN: So he’ll just pop across. We can’t have that.

  FISHERMAN: But mind you’re back for your coffee, Fred.

  SECOND MAN: Watch my smoke. Goes reluctantly off.

  WIFE: Coffee won’t be long. It’s nearly boiling.

  FIRST MAN: That’s all right: I’m not cold.

  WIFE: Won’t hurt you to have a cup.

  FIRST MAN: I can still see pretty well, thanks.

  WIFE: Then shut your eyes, Mac.

  FIRST MAN: Light’s not good enough.

  WIFE: He’s nearly asleep.

  FIRST MAN: He’s too drunk.

  WIFE: He’s a pig.

  FIRST MAN: Coming home like that.

  WIFE: As usual.

  FIRST MAN: You look all right, though …

  WIFE: I’m just in my nightdress.

  FIRST MAN: What’s wrong with that?

  FISHERMAN starting up: Shut the door, damn it. Water’s too bloody cold. Get the coffee. Wrong with what?

  WIFE: The water being cold.

  FISHERMAN: Get moving, you cow.

  WIFE: Fred’s gone over the way for me, though.

  FIRST MAN: I felt like staying.

  The wife laughs and exit.

  FISHERMAN: Nag nag nag, because I got her up. Treating me like a bloody animal. Laziness, that’s all. A lot of sluts, they are.

  FIRST MAN: Well, I’m off.

  FISHERMAN: Not had enough yet?

  FIRST MAN: The room’s going round.

  FISHERMAN: Sit down.

  FIRST MAN: I’ll pass out.

  FISHERMAN: What, can’t you take it? You two lead immoral lives; saps your energies. I can take anything.

  FIRST MAN in the doorway, speaks to the right: Must have been nice and warm in bed.

  WIFE: Trying to make me go out.

  FIRST MAN: Half naked.

  WIFE: All on account of that old soak.

  FIRST MAN: Bet those tiles on the kitchen floor are cold.

  WIFE: Hell.

  FIRST MAN: With those warm feet of yours.

  WIFE: What do you men have to get so drunk for always?

  FIRST MAN: With me it’s because I haven’t got a wife.

  WIFE: And if you had?

  FIRST MAN: Everything would be different.

  WIFE: That’s what they all say.

  FIRST MAN: I’m not like that. I’m not drunk, either.

  WIFE: Hold the pot for me a minute.

  FIRST MAN: I’m not that drunk.

  Goes into the kitchen.

  FISHERMAN raises his head from the table: My head’s buzzing. Like a roundabout. And that damned curtain. Mac! Rotten drunken bastard. Drinks like a fish. As if it was free … Where’s the bugger got to? Aha! Pull yourself together, Hansen, and get sober. On your feet! Attention! Right wheel, quick march. Goes upstage left to a bucket of water. Knees bend! Now the high dive! Dips his head. Brr! A pan falls in the kitchen. Hullo, what’s going on? Steps over to the right, stooping with his head down dripping water, and listens. Then unsteadily back to the left. Missus!

  WIFE comes a shade too hastily: Well? What is it this time?

  FISHERMAN: Give me your apron. Quick. Stamps his foot.

  WIFE: What have you been sticking your head in? That’s the washing-up water.

  FISHERMAN: It’s clean enough. Apron!

  WIFE takes an apron from the peg and wipes him with it. To the right: Mind it doesn’t boil over, Mac!

  FISHERMAN: Now get a move on. Coffee! Do you want us to stay up all night? Won’t it boil without a kick up the arse? Ties his wife’s apron on her. And you wear that. Want me to fetch the parson? Quick march! Gives her a kick, and she goes off right. He sits at the table, thinking. Tisn’t boiling over. He’s pissed as arseholes. She’s half naked, the little tart. Anyhow, I’m going to sleep. Sleep! Don’t care if he does her or not. Sleep. Birds of a feather flock together. Under my own roof, too. Suppose I chuck him out and bolt the door, then they’ll slip the bolt and laugh like drains. And if I stop them getting down to it here, then she’ll nip off and I won’t see what happens. Shit. The bleeders. Sleep, that’s the answer.

  WIFE bringing coffee: Drink that.

  FIRST MAN behind her: It’s a life-saver. They drink coffee.

  FISHERMAN: Sit down. There. Get my net.

  WIFE: What do you want your net for?

  FISHERMAN bangs the table: I said get it.

  FIRST MAN: What, at this time of night?

  WIFE gets it: Thinking of going out fishing?

  FISHERMAN: Fishing, ha ha ha!

  WOMAN: Caught nothing all day. Just boozed, you did.

  FISHERMAN: All my best ideas come to me when I go on the booze. When I go on the booze I go fishing. Mend the net.

  WOMAN: What, at this time of night? Starts mending it.

  FISHERMAN bangs the table: At this time of night!

  FIRST MAN: That’s not right. Nobody ought to do anything now but sleep. Don’t you feel sleepy?

  FISHERMAN: Like after a booze-up. You finished?

  FIRST MAN: They’re still boozing over the way.

  FISHERMAN: It’s Midsummer Day.

  FIRST MAN: They ought to go to bed.

  WIFE: Like Christians …

  FISHERMAN: Like us. You know, when you get in and let go – there’s another hole there, Missus – and feel heavy as an anchor and down you sink – lazy cow – and forget everything, so utterly pissed, and don’t give a bugger … Finished?

  FIRST MAN: I seem to have got heavier too. Thanks for the coffee. Sleep well. Leaves.

  WI
FE: Good night, Mac. And thanks for bringing that drunken layabout home.

  FISHERMAN bangs the table: Clear it away.

  WIFE: It can wait.

  FISHERMAN: Lazy bitch. Get into that kitchen. Clear up. Wash up.

  WIFE taking the candle: Oahh, I can’t keep awake.

  FISHERMAN: Leave the candle there. Get on. Exit wife. Footy-footy under the table. Right. I’ll make that bastard pay for his coffee. He’ll have worked out that those feet lead up to thighs and so on, on and on, keen eye and steady hand will bring you to the promised land. Smashing. Gets up, picks up the net and performs the following actions as he mutters to himself. He fixes the net above the bed, gets a heavy rock anchor and rolls it on to the edge of the bed below. None of this is very clearly seen, though in the process he has to stand on the bed. There we are, that goes there, and there; right, smashing, and … enjoy your little arrangement, my … darlings. Immorality! Boozing! Think you’re so bloody clever! Like cats. Climbs down. Now let me dip my head in the trough and just watch me sleep … Lurches out. The two men reappear.

  FIRST MAN: Might as well see each other home. Two are tougher than one.

  SECOND MAN: So I fetched his pipe and you got your way.

  FIRST MAN: Afraid the coffee’s finished.

  SECOND MAN: What a pal, drinking my coffee while I was wandering around in the dark so you could have a chance to stay.

  FIRST MAN: Weren’t keen, were you?

  SECOND MAN: I fell over twice.

  FIRST MAN: Shouldn’t have drunk so much.

  SECOND MAN: Or gone across there.

  FIRST MAN: You’re too young.

  SECOND MAN: Just why I went. I thought an old man wouldn’t be up to it physically.

  FIRST MAN: Let’s go. There’s nobody here.

  SECOND MAN: I must say good night.

  FIRST MAN: Why not just leave the pipe?

  SECOND MAN: What, and not say good night?

  FIRST MAN: They won’t want to be interrupted. They’re on their own.

  SECOND MAN: They aren’t in bed yet.

  FIRST MAN: A man and his wife.

  SECOND MAN: Oh, you make me sick, you and your poaching.

  FIRST MAN: What do you mean?

  SECOND MAN: I’ll spell it out for you. I’m attracted too.

  FIRST MAN: Who by?

  SECOND MAN: You watch it, Mac.

  FIRST MAN: Ought to be ashamed of yourself. Young whipper-snapper like you.

  SECOND MAN: As for a fellow of your age …

  FIRST MAN: She’s faithful.

  SECOND MAN: Which bit of her?

  FIRST MAN: Her heart.

  SECOND MAN: It’s her legs we’re interested in.

  FIRST MAN: If you want to talk dirty you can count me out.

  SECOND MAN: Just that I want a go too.

  FIRST MAN: I’ll tell Tom.

  SECOND MAN: I’ll sodding do you.

  FIRST MAN: Go on, then.

  SECOND MAN: Cowardy.

  FIRST MAN: All piss and wind.

  SECOND MAN: Rotten bastard.

  FIRST MAN: Get some hair on your chest.

  They wrestle.

  FISHERMAN enters with his head bent forward, dripping water: What’s the matter with you? You’re disgustingly drunk. In my cottage too. I’d kick your arsehole up through your neck if I wasn’t too tired.

  They break off.

  FIRST MAN: He started it!

  SECOND MAN: Liar!

  The fisherman lies down on the leather sofa.

  FIRST MAN: Come on out.

  SECOND MAN: Suits me.

  FIRST MAN: Night, Tom.

  SECOND MAN: Already asleep? Well, we’ll see who wins. Exeunt both. Silence. Distant sound of the sea.

  WIFE appears in the doorway: Tom! Tom! Asleep. Stretches.

  FISHERMAN half asleep: Shut the window! Bleeding music.

  WIFE shuts the window: What are you lying on the sofa for?

  FISHERMAN: Shut up.

  WIFE: Can’t even be fagged to take his trousers off. What a beast. Sprawled out. Asleep already. He’ll never wake up either. And the bed’s all ours. He’s daft. Well, he’s only got himself to blame. I’m flesh and blood too. Sits on the bed. It’s two o’clock. It’ll be light at four. He’ll sleep till eleven, though. But everybody can see our door then. And the others’ll be off fishing, not like him. Why shouldn’t I have some fun? He’s asleep all right. Takes the candle and puts it in the window. Where’s he got to? Think he’s passed out? He wasn’t all that sober. Here he comes. What in God’s name is he making all that row for? Sounds of panting and wrestling. Wife looks out. Exclaims: Christ … Fred! And they’re fighting. O my God, save us. Our Father, which art … That’s fixed him, thank heaven.

  FIRST MAN rushing to the window: Hey, love.

  WIFE: What are you after?

  FIRST MAN: Don’t ask silly questions.

  WIFE: I’ve every right to ask what you’re doing at my window.

  FIRST MAN: What did you put the light there for?

  WIFE: So you could tell he was asleep.

  FIRST MAN: You said you’d put the light there once he’d gone to sleep.

  WIFE: And that’s what he’s done.

  FIRST MAN: And that’s why I’m here.

  WIFE: I never said so.

  FIRST MAN: What’s the point of telling me, then?

  WIFE: You said you were frightened he might strike me.

  FIRST MAN: Didn’t he?

  WIFE: What for?

  FIRST MAN: For acting like that in the kitchen.

  WIFE: Oh, he was drunk.

  FIRST MAN: So why did you put the light in the window?

  WIFE: Oh, come on, or they’ll see you.

  FIRST MAN climbs right in: There we are. A proper puzzle, you women. Picks up the light.

  WIFE: What’s happened to your friend?

  FIRST MAN: He got a belt in the earhole.

  WIFE: Where is he?

  FIRST MAN: Happy as a sandboy.

  WIFE: So long as you didn’t hurt him.

  FIRST MAN: Um.

  WIFE: Won’t you come over here? There’s room enough.

  FIRST MAN carrying the light around: In a minute.

  WIFE: He’s sleeping on the sofa.

  FIRST MAN: Hadn’t we better go outside?

  WIFE: What, now? They’d see us. What are you up to?

  FIRST MAN shining the light on the fisherman’s face: See if he’s asleep.

  WIFE: Of course he is. You’ll wake him up like that.

  FIRST MAN: Suppose we go outside …

  WIFE: Don’t you like it here?

  FIRST MAN: I like you.

  WIFE: Can you feel your way over this way?

  FIRST MAN: Why not?

  WIFE: Then we’d save the candle. Trembling. It’s got to do for tomorrow.

  FIRST MAN puts out the light, feels his way: He’s pissed to the eyebrows.

  WIFE: On the sofa.

  FIRST MAN: Not in the bed. Those your knees?

  WIFE: Yes. Look out. Sit down there.

  FIRST MAN: He’s completely pissed.

  WIFE: He’s like an animal.

  FIRST MAN: Is that your hand?

  WIFE: What’s he want to get so boozed for?

  FIRST MAN: So I can carry him home.

  WIFE: And to get me out of bed.

  FIRST MAN: Warm, was it?

  WIFE: I was waiting.

  FIRST MAN: In your nightdress …

  WIFE: He caught nothing all day.

  FIRST MAN: What about putting out his nightlines?

  WIFE: He’s a pig, I tell you.

  FIRST MAN more laboriously, like her: That your breast?

  WIFE: Leave me alone.

  FIRST MAN: Does it hurt?

  WIFE: Leave me alone, Mac.

  FIRST MAN: You put the light there.

  WIFE: But you – you mustn’t do that.

  FIRST MAN: So the Sixth Commandment says.

  WIFE: Your breath doesn�
��t stink of brandy; that’s something.

  FIRST MAN: I’m respectable.

  WIFE: Leave my knee alone.

  FIRST MAN: It’ll be more comfortable for you.

  WIFE: Ow!

  FIRST MAN: Let’s get rid of that.

  WIFE: You get rid of it.

  FIRST MAN: That’s better.

  WIFE: No, no.

  FIRST MAN: Can’t you keep still for a minute?

  The stone falls to the floor with an immense crash. The wife gives a subdued scream, the man curses, then the two of them lie quite motionless.

  FISHERMAN lifts his head: The sky’s fallen in. Hullo. That’s going to cost her a packet. Waking me up. Gets up and lights the candle. Must have blown it out almost at once. Bastards. Addressing the bed: Cheers, Mac. Back here again? Are you all that pissed? That’s fine. Right over the top? Ha ha ha! Bastards! – How’s that for a draught of fishes? Glory be to God. The Lord rewardeth the just even as they sleep, Mac. Goes to the window.

  FIRST MAN rolling about and cursing: Bloody buggery, a net.

  FISHERMAN: Right first time. Don’t bust yourselves. It’ll hold. She mended it. And to think I caught nothing all day. I felt so sleepy. Drumming on the window-sill. Hey, fish! fish! Something worth looking at here, boys. Come along over. Got something here. Dearly beloved brethren, I’ve made a catch.

  VOICES: You all right in the head? – What’s it about?

  FISHERMAN: Fish! Fish!

  VOICES: You’re bloody drunk.

  FISHERMAN: Across here! Fish!

  FIRST MAN: For Christ’s sake. It’s your reputation that’ll suffer.

  FISHERMAN: It did suffer, Mac. Fish! Fish! Goes to the door.

  FISHERMEN come crowding in: What’s up? – What’s all the row about? – Had a baby?

  FISHERMAN: Something’s happened. I’ve caught some fish.

  THE OTHERS craning their heads: Here? – A minute ago you were pissed as arseholes.

  FISHERMAN: Too pissed, I was. That’s why I couldn’t go out. I did my fishing here.

  THE OTHERS: O he’s too far gone. – Where’s his wife? You can get some sense out of her.

  FISHERMAN: My wife’s gone. I’m so stinking pissed I think she must have turned into a fish. Hear that wind? That’s God Almighty coming in the storm-cloud. Go forth, says he, and thou shalt make a great catch.

  THE OTHERS: Better slop some water over his head. – He’s wandering.

  FISHERMAN moves away shouting, having blocked the view up to now: Fish! Fish!

  THE OTHERS pressing forward: She dead? Is that a body? – Look, there’s another. There are two of them. – Is that a body? All laugh. It’s his wife with Mac!