Bertolt Brecht: Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder 4

by Bertolt Brecht

  CALLAS: I’m going to Luma to see Iberin. If he can get me horses to draw my plough, and if he gets me off the rent, then I’ve no need of fighting. De Guzman is a Zik, he’ll have no say.

  FIRST FARMER: That’s well and good, your landlord is a Zik, but ours is a Round Head!

  PARR: But perhaps ours will relax the rent too when the Ziks are out of the way. He’s got debts with a Zikkish bank and they’ll be cancelled now.

  LOPEZ: Even if his debts are cancelled, he’ll still want the rent.

  THIRD FARMER: After all, it’s the landlords who are behind Iberin.

  PARR: From what I’ve heard, that’s not true. They say he lives quite modestly, doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, and he’s the son of a tenant farmer himself. He’s a selfless soul, that’s what it says in the newspaper. He says the Parliament is useless too, and that’s true.

  FIRST FARMER: Yes, that’s true.

  Silence.

  THIRD FARMER: So the farmers shouldn’t do anything against the landlords now?

  PARR: Of course they should: the Zakkish farmers against the Zikkish landlords.

  LOPEZ: And what about the Zikkish farmers, what should they do about the Zakkish landlords?

  PARR: There aren’t that many Zikkish farmers. Ziks don’t like hard work.

  FIFTH FARMER: But there are plenty of Zakkish landlords.

  PARR: Zak against Zak, that sort of squabbling has got to stop now.

  LOPEZ: The rain still comes through our roofs, and that’s got to stop too.

  CALLAS: Our Zik has already been arrested.

  FOURTH FARMER: But the rain comes through my roof too, and my landlord is a Zak.

  THIRD FARMER: This is nonsense! What I want to know is: will your Iberin get rid of the landlords, all of them?

  PARR: He’ll get rid of the Zikkish landlords all right, and then he’ll force the Zaks to let up a bit.

  THIRD FARMER: That’s no good: Zak or Zik, a landlord’s a landlord! We’ve got to get rid of them all. I’m off to join the Sickle. I don’t see why I should have faith in anyone but myself. If you want to get out of this misery, you’ll come with me and join the Sickle. This Iberin is just another fraud. To the public:

  Lord and tenant should unite, they’re saying,

  And what’s the reason? ’Cause our heads are round!

  But he collects the rent, while I must pay it!

  You’ve got to see, the reasoning’s not sound!

  With all this ‘Zakkish’ talk the man derides us;

  If we’re such friends, why not abolish rent!

  A gulf of cold and hunger still divides us,

  That’s not a thing we’ll lightly circumvent!

  CALLAS: Say what you like: I’m going to try my luck with Iberin!

  FARMERS: Join us, Lopez!

  Round or pointed heads, that’s not our lore!

  For us there’s only one thing: rich or poor!

  They hold out their hands to him, and exit.

  MRS LOPEZ: I think we’d better go home now.

  MRS CALLAS: But you won’t be able to do that, Mrs Lopez. As I came past the village pond a moment ago I heard people saying that it was time to settle with the Lopez family. And when I looked up in the direction of your house I saw a red glow.

  MRS LOPEZ: Oh God!

  LOPEZ: Please, Callas, give my family shelter at your place – until this first wave of persecution has blown over.

  Silence.

  CALLAS: I’d rather you were not found under my roof, tonight or any night …

  LOPEZ: Can’t you just take my children into hiding, at least for the first few days?

  CALLAS: Maybe I could. But as you’re with the Sickle, it would be dangerous for my own family if you were associated with us in any way.

  LOPEZ: We’ll be leaving then, Callas.

  Callas is silent.

  THE TWO WOMEN:

  We used to be united by our woes

  But now our different head shapes make us bitter foes.

  The Lopez family exit slowly.

  MRS CALLAS: Now, husband, you must get on your way to Luma as quickly as you can, and make the most of this opportunity! Don’t pay the rent, and make sure you get a written assurance that you don’t have to pay!

  CALLAS: Right. I won’t be back until I’ve got it in writing!

  4

  THE VICEROY’S PALACE

  At court a trial is in progress. The parties are the Mother Superior of San Barabas and the Abbot of San Stefano. A news flash projection reads: ‘The Sickle advances on the Imperial capital.’

  JUDGE: In the trial of the Barefoot Mendicants of San Stefano against the Needy Sisters of San Barabas the Barefoot Mendicants have set their claim for damages at seven million. On what do the Brothers base their claim for a sum of such magnitude?

  ABBOT OF SAN STEFANO: On the building of a new church of pilgrimage by the Convent of San Barabas, which is draining away the devout congregation from our own parish.

  MOTHER SUPERIOR OF SAN BARABAS: We submit that the court inspect the accounts of the new pilgrims’ chapel of San Sebastian, which is the cause of this dispute; Your Honour will establish that the revenue is not seven million, as the Brothers claim, but scarcely four million.

  ABBOT: Naturally, in the books! I should merely like to point out that the Needy Sisters of San Barabas have appeared before this High Court once before, when there was a little question of tax evasion to the tune of one and a half million; on that occasion too the Sisters based their defence on their accounts.

  They shake their fists at each other. A court clerk appears.

  JUDGE: What is it? I don’t wish to be disturbed in the conduct of a trial where such large sums are at stake.

  CLERK: Your Honour, there’s a crowd on its way to the courthouse, they’ve got Señor de Guzman. The people are saying he raped a Zakkish girl.

  JUDGE: Ridiculous. Señor de Guzman is one of the country’s five biggest landowners. He was released from false arrest just three days ago.

  The crowd forces its way into the courtroom. De Guzman is shoved in front of the judge. Madame Cornamontis and Nanna are pushed forward too. The judge rings his bell agitatedly. Meanwhile de Guzman is jostled and spat on by the crowd.

  VOICES: Look at that suit. A family of six could live for a month off the price of that. – Look at his soft hands, he’s never held a spade in his life. – We’ll have to hang this one on a silk rope.

  The Hatsos begin to throw dice for de Guzman’s rings.

  A MAN: Mr Judge, sir, the people of Yahoo demand that this man is punished for his crimes.

  JUDGE: Good people, the matter will be properly investigated. At present we’re right in the middle of another case of great urgency.

  ABBOT who has been conferring with the Mother Superior, in some agitation: We don’t think it’s necessary to discuss our little local difficulties in front of all these people. We should be happy to accept an adjournment.

  SHOUTS: No more postponements! – We said right from the start we should set fire to the whole damn place! – Hang the judge too! – String up the whole lot of ’em, without a trial!

  A MAN to the crowds outside:

  Here you see real justice for our times:

  Compassion for the victims, but tough on those who commit the crimes!

  Here’s pity for the virtuous and meek,

  But ruthlessness for those who persecute the weak.

  ANOTHER MAN: Even the lawcourts have to learn: this is a new age for Yahoo, and a new justice!

  Projection: ‘In his address to the teachers the Governor describes the unrest in the South as the struggle of Right against Wrong.’

  THE CROWD: Sit down everybody, we’ll stay put until justice is done and the landlord is hanged!

  They all sit down, smoke, open up their newspapers, spit and chat.

  THE INSPECTOR comes and talks to the judge: The Governor has given instructions that you should let the crowd have its way, and let the trial proce
ed. The court is no longer to restrict itself to the dry letter of the law, but must let itself be guided by the people’s natural sense of justice. The conflict in the South is looking very bad for the government, and the capital is getting more restless by the minute.

  JUDGE to the audience: These excitements are all too much for me. I’m no longer up to it, simply physically. It’s been two months since we last got paid. The situation is quite uncertain, and I have to think of my family. This morning I had just a cup of weak tea and a stale roll for breakfast. You can’t mete out justice on an empty stomach. People have no confidence in a man who hasn’t had his breakfast, he’s got no energy, no conviction. The law loses all its lustre.

  The de Guzman attorneys burst into the antechamber with their robes flying, followed by a number of landowners.

  ZAKKISH ATTORNEY in the antechamber to his colleague: You stay in the common room. It’ll be better for you, as a Zik, if you don’t show yourself in here.

  ZIKKISH ATTORNEY: Just make sure you get him behind bars for the next week or so. I wish I was in prison myself.

  The Zakkish attorney and the landowners enter the court.

  CRIES: Get a move on! – It’s almost too dark already if we want to hang the man!

  JUDGE: Everybody at least sit down properly. We must discover the facts first. We must have a bit of order. To Madame Cornamontis: Who are you?

  MADAME CORNAMONTIS: Madame Cornamontis, Emma. Proprietress of the coffeehouse El Paradiso, Estrada number 5.

  JUDGE: And what do you want?

  CORNAMONTIS: I don’t want anything.

  JUDGE: Then why are you here?

  CORNAMONTIS: About half an hour ago people gathered in front of my house and demanded that one of my waitresses, this girl here, accompany them to court. I refused to let her go, and so I was made to come along too. I’m as innocent in this affair as Pontius Pilate in the creed.

  JUDGE: And you are the girl? Sit down here in the dock.

  Catcalls from the crowd.

  CRIES: Hey, that’s where the other guys belong.

  Projection: ‘Government troops offer fierce resistance to the Sickle.’

  JUDGE: I’ll decide who belongs in the dock. To Nanna: You solicited the gentleman quite openly in the street. You know, you can get three weeks’ hard labour for that. Nanna is silent, so he turns to de Guzman, and bows: I beg you, approach the bench, Señor de Guzman. Do I have the facts aright?

  DE GUZMAN: Indeed, Your Honour. The young thing importuned me as I took my morning constitutional. She’s the daughter of one of my tenants, and she asked me to release her father from his financial obligations. Quietly: Please, put me in custody, I’m a Zik.

  ATTORNEY: I am the de Guzman family attorney. If I may represent my client …

  JUDGE: Do you have witnesses?

  ATTORNEY: Here are the gentlemen, Señores Saz, Duarte and de Hoz.

  CRIES: Fine folk as witnesses against the poor!

  Whistles.

  JUDGE: Silence! To the witnesses: What have you to say? I must remind you that perjury is a serious offence.

  CRIES: That’s more like it!

  SAZ: Señor de Guzman was accosted by this young girl on the street.

  ATTORNEY: The social standing of my client, surely, is enough to vouch for the truth of his statement, which is disputed only by a waitress from a common coffeehouse.

  VOICE FROM ABOVE: Ohoh! Quite the reverse, I’d say! Take off your cap a moment, dear fellow! Let’s see the shape of your head! With opinions like that!

  SECOND VOICE FROM ABOVE: Off with his cap!

  ATTORNEY takes off his cap: It’s just as round as yours, you see!

  VOICE FROM ABOVE: Why don’t you ask your client who it is who demands so much rent from the father that his daughter has to sell herself?

  SECOND VOICE FROM ABOVE: Start from the beginning!

  JUDGE to Nanna: You take your place in the dock now, so we can get started!

  VOICE FROM ABOVE: Don’t sit there! We’ve come here to see you get justice, not to put you in the dock.

  ATTORNEY: We can’t conduct these matters like some street brawl. There are subtle legal issues here. We must use our heads.

  VOICE FROM ABOVE: We get the point.

  Laughter.

  SECOND VOICE FROM ABOVE: We should get Iberin to settle this.

  VOICES: Who do we want in the dock: the racketeer landlord, the pimping madam, and the shyster lawyer.

  VOICE FROM ABOVE: And let’s get Iberin. Or is he too good for this?

  VOICES: Iberin! Iberin! Iberin!

  Iberin has already entered, unnoticed, and now sits to one side behind the judge’s bench.

  OTHER VOICES: Look, there’s Iberin!

  MORE CRIES: Hail Iberin!

  JUDGE to Iberin: Excellency, I’m relying on statements by some of the leading landowners in the country.

  IBERIN: You’d do better to pay attention to the news from the front!

  Projection: ‘Inadequate equipment a serious setback for loyal Government troops! Ammunition shortages and poor provisions erode the fighting spirit of our soldiers.’ There is a disturbance. In a crowd of other people, Farmer Callas enters the court.

  VOICE: Here’s the girl’s father.

  NANNA: Oh dear, my father! I’d better hide so he doesn’t see me. This time I’ve really done it! And it’ll be the folks back home who suffer.

  JUDGE to Callas: What do you want here?

  VOICE FROM ABOVE: He wants justice!

  CALLAS’S COMPANIONS: We met this man on the street. He asked us when and where the de Guzman case was being tried. We told him, right now, he had only to follow the crowds, everyone is coming here.

  CALLAS: That’s a fact. I’ve come here from my farm to bear witness against my landlord, who’s on trial for rack-renting.

  JUDGE: This court is not concerned with rack-renting.

  CALLAS: Oh yes it is! I can prove that the rent was exorbitant. The land is marshy and the fields are too far apart, the tools are primitive and we have to use the cow to pull the cart. The whole summer through we worked from three o’clock in the morning, the children helped as well. And the price of corn is not in our hands, it’s been different every year, but the rent is always the same. The landlord doesn’t lift a finger, he just pockets the money. So I ask that the rent be written off, once and for all, and that the price of corn be set so that we can make a living from our work.

  VOICE FROM ABOVE: Quite right!

  Applause.

  THE MAN stands up and addresses the crowds in the street behind: The father of the girl who was molested, he’s a tenant farmer of the accused, he demands the abolition of the rents and fair corn prices.

  Loud applause from a great crowd backstage.

  JUDGE to Iberin: Excellency, how do you wish me to proceed in this case?

  IBERIN: You must do what you think right.

  Projection: ‘Reports from all regions of the South: unlawful land appropriation by the peasants.’

  JUDGE: According to the provisions of the law, only the girl has committed an offence. It is illegal for her to address any gentleman outside the establishment in which she works.

  IBERIN: Is that all you have to say for yourself? It’s not a lot.

  VOICE FROM ABOVE: Bravo! You hear how the Governor puts the judge in his place? That’s not a lot, says he.

  THE MAN addressing the street behind: The Governor has intervened. He’s already reprimanded the judge, and told him he doesn’t know enough about the law. There’s more to come.

  IBERIN: Cross-question the girl’s father more carefully! That way you’ll get to the heart of the matter.

  JUDGE: So you maintain that your landlord exceeded his legal rights when he set your rents?

  CALLAS: There’s no way we could pay the rent, not in a hundred years. We had to live on crab-apples and roots, we had to send all the corn to the city. Our children run around naked most of the year. We can’t afford repairs, so the house is
falling in over our heads. The taxes are much too high too. So I have another request, that people who can’t pay their taxes shouldn’t have to.

  General applause.

  THE MAN addressing the street behind: The farmer demands the abolition of taxes for all those who can’t pay them! But there’s more.

  Tremendous applause backstage.

  JUDGE: How high are the dues? How high are the taxes?

  IBERIN gets up so energetically that he knocks the chair over:

  Can’t you think of anything more important to ask? Have you no inner voice to tell you what the people really need?

  CALLAS: Horses! Give us horses!

  IBERIN sternly: Silence! What are horses? There’s more at stake here! To the judge: You can go. Leave the office which you are unfit to fill. I shall conduct this case.

  The judge gathers up his papers and leaves the bench and the courtroom in dismay.

  THE MAN addressing the street behind: The Governor has dismissed the Chief Justice and has taken over the case himself. The judge is leaving the hall. Hail Iberin!

  CALLAS: Did you hear that: What are horses? There’s more at stake!

  THE MAN at the back: Now we’ve driven out the greatest racketeer of all, the Viceroy, why shouldn’t we redistribute the land?

  Applause. Projection: ‘New reports from the Northern regions: minor incidents with rebel peasants.’

  IBERIN: As the court seems incapable of getting to the heart of this affair, I shall conduct the case myself. In the name of the Zakkish people.

  So let this case now serve as an example

  Of honest Zakkish justice. An evil spirit

  Is at work here. And, as we rely

  Upon our troops to curb the rebellious peasants,

  So must this court take the unbridled landlords

  Firmly in the grip of Zakkish justice.

  It’s not a question here of rich or poor:

  But equal sentences on all who step outside the law.

  Into the dock: the landlord de Guzman and – pointing at Madame Cornamontis – this person here, and on the plaintiffs’ bench: this young woman and her father.

  THE MAN addressing the street behind: The Governor’s giving us an example of Zakkish justice. He’s brought discipline to the proceedings. And he’s set the accused and plaintiffs in their proper places.