Brecht Collected Plays: 3: Lindbergh's Flight; The Baden-Baden Lesson on Consent; He Said Yes/He Said No; The Decision; The Mother; The Exception & the ... St Joan of the Stockyards (World Classics)

by Bertolt Brecht

  Has been shot. But

  As he went to the wall where they intended to shoot him

  He went towards a wall which had been built by men of his own kind

  And the rifles they aimed at his breast, and the bullets

  Had been made by men like himself. Merely absent

  Were they therefore, or dispersed; but for him were still there

  And present in the work of their hands. Not even

  Those who were ordered to shoot him differed from him, or were for ever incapable of learning.

  Truly he still went bound with chains, that had been

  Forged by his comrades and laid by them on their comrade; yet

  Closer grew the factories; as he passed by he could see them

  Chimney on chimney, and since it was early dawn

  For it is at dawn that they normally bring them out, there was

  Nobody there, but he saw them crowded full

  With that huge throng, whose numbers had always grown

  And still grew.

  Three women enter, bearing a bible and a pot full of food

  THE THREE WOMEN outside the door: When Pavel Vlassov tried to cross the Finnish border he was caught and shot. We want to forget all our differences with Vlassova and sit down with her as Christians to express our fellow-feeling for her. She has no religion, so there is nothing for her to hold on to in her sorrow.

  They enter.

  LANDLADY: Mrs Vlassova, you are not alone in this sorrowful time, the whole house feels for you.

  Overcome by emotion the three women sit down. They sob loudly.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA after a moment: Take a little tea. It’ll make you feel better. She pours tea for them. Bucks you up, doesn’t it?

  LANDLADY: Oh, Mrs Vlassova, you take it so calmly.

  PEASANT WOMAN: But you are quite right. All of us are in God’s hand.

  POOR WOMAN: And God knows what he is doing. Pelagea Vlassova says nothing.

  POOR WOMAN: We thought we should see you were all right. I’m sure you’re not cooking for yourself at all properly, the way things are. Here’s a pot with something to eat, you just have to heat it up. She hands her the pot.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Thank you very much, Lydia Antonovna. It’s very kind of you to have thought of it. Really it is so good of you all to have come.

  LANDLADY: My dear Vlassova, I have also brought my bible for you in case you want to read anything. You may keep it as long as you like. She hands Pelagea Vlassova her bible.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Thank you for your kind intentions, Vera Stefanovna. But I hope you will not be very offended if I give the book back to you? When Mr Vessovchikov went off on holiday he said I could use his books. She hands back the bible.

  LANDLADY: I only thought you probably wouldn’t want to be reading your political papers just now.

  PEASANT WOMAN: Do you really read them every day?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Yes.

  LANDLADY: Mrs Vlassova, my bible has frequently been a great comfort to me.

  Silence.

  POOR WOMAN: Haven’t you any photos of him?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: No. I did have some. But then we destroyed them all so the police wouldn’t get them.

  POOR WOMAN: You do need something to remember them by.

  PEASANT WOMAN: They say he was such a good-looking man!

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Come to think of it, I have got a photo. Here’s his ‘Wanted’ notice. He cut it out of a paper for me. The women study the ‘Wanted’ notice.

  LANDLADY: Mrs Vlassova, it says here that your son had become a criminal. He had no religion, and you yourself have never pretended, I mean you have never missed any chance of letting us know your opinion of our religion.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: That’s right, I’ve no use for it, Vera Stefanovna.

  LANDLADY: And hasn’t all this made you think differently?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: No, Vera Stefanovna.

  LANDLADY: So you still think that everything can be solved just by reasoning?

  POOR WOMAN: I did tell you, Vera Stefanovna, that Mrs Vlassova won’t have changed her views.

  LANDLADY: But the other night through the wall I heard you weeping.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: I apologise for that.

  LANDLADY: There’s no call to apologise, of course I didn’t mean it that way. But was it reason that made you weep?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: No.

  LANDLADY: Well, you see how far reason gets you.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: It wasn’t reason that made me weep. But when I stopped, reason had something to do with that. What Pavel did was right.

  LANDLADY: Why did they shoot him then?

  POOR WOMAN: Were they all against him perhaps?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Yes, but in being against him they were against themselves.

  LANDLADY: Mrs Vlassova, Man needs God. He is powerless against Fate.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: We say that Man’s fate is man.

  PEASANT WOMAN: Dear Mrs Vlassova, we peasants . . .

  LANDLADY indicating her: My relative is just here on a visit.

  PEASANT WOMAN: We peasants see these things differently. You have no crops on your fields, only bread from the baker’s. You only see the milk, not the cow. You pass no sleepless nights when there’s thunder in the air, and what does a hailstorm mean to you?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: I understand, and in those situations you pray to God.

  PEASANT WOMAN: Yes.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: And in springtime you have processions and public prayers.

  PEASANT WOMAN: Right.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: And then you get thunder and hailstorms. And your cow falls ill. Don’t any of the peasants in your part of the world insure against bad harvests and cattle disease?

  PEASANT WOMAN: I’ve heard tell of that.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Yes, insurance can help when praying has been no use. So you no longer need pray to God when it looks like thunder, but you do have to be insured. Because it helps you. Losing his importance is bad news for God. So there’s some hope that this God may vanish from your minds once he has vanished from over your fields. In my young days everybody still believed he was sitting somewhere in the skies and looking like an old man. Then aeroplanes came in, and the papers started saying everything was measurable even in the sky. No more talk of a God sitting up in Heaven. Instead we now often hear talk of him being like some kind of gas, nowhere and everywhere all at once. Then we read what all the gases were made up of, and God wasn’t included, so that he lost out even as part of the air and kind of blew himself away. Now they write that he means something purely spiritual, and that’s most suspicious.

  POOR WOMAN: So you’re saying he’s stopped being important because we’ve stopped noticing him?

  LANDLADY: Don’t forget, Mrs Vlassova, that God took away your Pavel for a reason.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: The Tsar took him away, and I shan’t forget the reason.

  LANDLADY: It was God who took him away, not the Tsar.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA to the Poor Woman: Lydia Antonovna, they tell me that God, who took away my Pavel, now means to take away your two rooms as from next Saturday. Is it true that God has given you notice?

  LANDLADY: I have given her notice because it’s the third time she has not paid her rent.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: So, when God sentenced you, Vera Stefanovna, to lose your rent for the third time what steps did you take? Vera Stefanovna remains silent. You gave Lydia Antonovna notice and put her on the street. And you, Lydia Antonovna, what steps did you take when God sentenced you to be put out on the street? My suggestion would be for you to ask the landlady to lend you her bible. Then when you are sitting there in the cold streets you can open its pages and read out to your children that they must fear God.

  LANDLADY: If you had read the bible to your son oftener he would still be alive now.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: But wretchedly alive; he had a wretched life. Why is it only death that you people are afraid of? My son wasn’t
all that afraid of death. She recites:

  But he was very much frightened by the misery

  Which is plain for all to see in our cities.

  What terrifies us is hunger and the depravity

  Of those who feel it and those who cause it.

  Do not fear death so much, fear an inadequate life!

  Pause.

  How can it help you if you fear God, Lydia Antonovna? You should be more afraid of Vera Stefanovna. It wasn’t God’s inscrutable decision that snatched my son from me, but the very scrutable decision of the Tsar, and in just the same way it was Vera Stefanovna that’s put you on the street because some man in a villa who has nothing to do with God has sacked you from your job. Why talk about God? They tell you that ‘in his Father’s house’ there are many mansions, but they never tell you why so few of them are in Russia, or why this should be so.

  POOR WOMAN: Give me that bible, Vera Stefanovna. In the bible it says: Love thy neighbour as thyself. Why are you throwing me on the street? Give me the bible, I can show you the place. It’s plain as the nose on your face that they shot Pavel Vlassov because he was for the workers, and a worker himself. She grabs the bible. Give it here, I’ll show you . . .

  LANDLADY: You’re getting no bible from me for that purpose, not for that.

  POOR WOMAN: For what then? For no good one, I bet.

  LANDLADY: This is the Word of God!

  POOR WOMAN: Just so. Your God’s no good to me if I can’t see the evidence! She tries to tug the bible away from the Landlady.

  POOR WOMAN: I want that book.

  LANDLADY holds on to it: It’s my property.

  POOR WOMAN: Like the entire house, eh?

  LANDLADY: Now let me show you something, where it says you must respect the property of others.

  The bible is ripped to shreds.

  PEASANT WOMAN as she picks up the pieces: Now it’s torn to pieces.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA after putting the pot of food in safety: Better a torn bible than a spilt dinner.

  POOR WOMAN: If it weren’t for my faith in a Heavenly Father who makes up for everything, good and evil alike, I’d be joining Pelagea Vlassova’s party today. Exit.

  LANDLADY: Pelagea Vlassova, you see what you’ve done to Lydia Antonovna, and it’s because he talked the same way that your son was shot, and you don’t deserve any better.

  She goes off with her relatives.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: You poor things! Calls after them: Whatever happens I’d advise you to insure your harvest! Sits down exhausted. Oh Pavel!

  11

  FROM HER BED OF SICKNESS, PELAGEA VLASSOVA HEARS THAT WAR HAS BEEN DECLARED

  Schoolmaster Vessovchikov’s flat.

  The Teacher has called a doctor to come and examine Pelagea Vlassova.

  THE TEACHER: Don’t say anything about a fee to her, I’ll settle it. She has been sick and depressed ever since the death of her son. Now she has got worse. It’s not so much the housework, but there was a particular sort of work which she always used to do, and now she has stopped. To Pelagea Vlassova: Pelagea Vlassova, I don’t want to worry you. I called the doctor. I don’t like the way you are breathing.

  The Doctor examines Pelagea Vlassova.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Did they tell you I haven’t any money? The Doctor nods.

  THE DOCTOR leaves the room and shrugs his shoulders as he tells the Teacher: Her son’s death must have been a severe blow to her. She must on no account get up. She is completely exhausted. She’s an old woman now. He leaves.

  The Teacher sits down by her bed and reads a paper.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Anything in the paper?

  THE TEACHER: War has been declared.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: War. – What are our comrades doing?

  THE TEACHER: Our five Duma representatives have been arrested for high treason and sent off to Siberia.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: That’s bad. Pause. If the Tsar is mobilising, us workers must mobilise too. Pause. I must get up.

  THE TEACHER: You’re on no account to get up. You are ill. And what could you do against the Tsar and his generals? Pause. I’m just going down to get the latest edition. Now they’ll completely destroy the Party.

  CHORUS

  sung to Pelagea Vlassova:

  Get up, the Party’s under threat!

  You are sick, but the Party’s dying.

  You are weak, but you must help us.

  Get up, the Party’s under threat!

  You had your doubts about us

  No time for doubting:

  We’ve reached our limit.

  You made complaints about the Party

  Don’t knock the Party when they’re

  About to smash it.

  Get up, the Party’s under threat!

  Get up now!

  You are ill, but we have need of you.

  Don’t die, for you must help us.

  Don’t stay away, we’re off to the fight.

  Get up, the Party’s under threat, get up!

  During this chorus Pelagea Vlassova has laboriously got herself up, dressed, taken her bag and progressed, unsteadily but with increasing speed, through the flat to the door.

  12

  IN THE FIRST YEARS OF THE WAR THE WORKERS DO NOT WANT TO LISTEN TO THE REVOLUTIONARIES

  Street.

  Pelagea Vlassova has had a bloody beating, and some workers carry her into a corner.

  FIRST WORKER: What’s the matter with her?

  SECOND WORKER: We saw this old woman in the crowd of people cheering the troops as they marched off. Suddenly she cried out ‘Down with the war, long live the Revolution!’ Then the police came and beat her about the head with their truncheons. We quickly dragged her into this corner. Give her face a wipe, will you?

  THE WORKERS: Hurry up and get moving, old lady, or they’ll still catch you.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Where’s my bag?

  THE WORKERS: There you are.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: I got some leaflets there. Saying something about the position of us workers in wartime: the truth about it.

  THE WORKERS: You go home, old lady, and leave the truth in your bag! It’s dangerous. If they catch us with it we’ll be beaten and locked up. Haven’t you yourself had enough?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: No, no, you’ve got to be told! It’s our ignorance of our position that’s holding us down.

  THE WORKERS: And the police?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: They’re ignorant too.

  THE WORKERS: But our leaders are saying first of all we must defend our country and help to beat the Germans.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA:

  What sort of leaders are they?

  You’re fighting side by side with the class enemy

  Worker against worker.

  Your organisations, laboriously built up

  With the pennies of self-denial, are being broken.

  Your experiences are forgotten

  And forgotten is the solidarity of the workers of all countries

  Their common fight against the class enemy.

  THE WORKERS: None of that applies any longer. We have struck against the war in several factories. Our strikes have been beaten down. The Revolution is no longer coming. Go home, old lady, recognise the world for what it is. What you want will never, never, never happen!

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: At least you should read what we have to say about the situation. Would you? She offers her leaflets to them. Won’t you even read?

  THE WORKERS: We can see that you mean us well, but we are not accepting your leaflets. We can’t run any more risks.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Yeees, but remember that the whole world – she is shouting so loudly that the alarmed workers cover her mouth up – is covered by an immense darkness, and up to now you have been the only people could be reached by Reason. Think what it will mean if you give up!

  13

  ANTI-WAR PROPAGANDA

  Outside a Patriotic Copper Contribution Centre.

  Seven women are standing before
a door with a flag and a sign saying ‘Patriotic Copper Contribution Centre’. Among them is Pelagea Vlassova with a small mug. A civil official arrives and unlocks the door.

  THE OFFICIAL: It has just been announced that our brave troops have wrested the fortress of Przemysl from the enemy for the fourth time with unparalleled heroism. One hundred thousand dead, two thousand prisoners of war. The Army High Command has declared that schools are to be shut throughout Russia and the bells rung. Three cheers for our holy Russia, hip, hip, hooray! The counter for copper contributions will be opened in five minutes. He goes inside.

  A WOMAN: How marvellous that our war is going ahead so well!

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: I’ve only got a tiny mug. That won’t make more than five or six bullets. How many of those will hit the target? Perhaps two out of the six, and at most only one of them a killer. Your big cauldron should be good for at least twenty, and that lady in front, her can ought to make a shell. A shell takes out five or six men at a time. Counts the different vessels: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, half a moment, that lady’s got two, so it’s eight. Eight! That should be enough to launch a small bayonet attack. She gives a subdued laugh: Hm, hm, hm. I nearly took my little mug back home again. Two soldiers ran into me – their names ought to be taken – and told me: ‘Go on, give them your copper, you cow, to stop the war from ever ending!’ What d’you say to that, isn’t it awful? ‘You two’, I said, ‘ought to be shot out of hand. And if my little mug’, I told them, ‘serves for nothing more than to shut your filthy mouths then it has not been given in vain. It should be enough for a bullet each.’ For why am I, Pelagea Vlassova, giving up my little mug? I’m giving it up so the war doesn’t stop!

  WOMAN: What on earth are you saying? That the war’s not going to stop if we hand in our copper? We’re handing it in precisely so it does stop!

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: No, we’re handing it in to stop it stopping!

  A WOMAN DRESSED IN BLACK: No, no, once they’ve enough copper and can make shells, then our men out there will win much sooner. Then the war will stop!

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Oh, once they have the shells then of course it won’t stop, because they’ll be able to carry on. As long as they’ve got ammunition they’ll carry on. The other side are contributing too.

  WOMAN pointing to a sign: ‘Hand in your copper and shorten the war.’ Can’t you read?