Brecht Collected Plays: 6: Good Person of Szechwan; The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui; Mr Puntila and his Man Matti (World Classics)

by Bertolt Brecht

  MATTI: There’s no hurry, he won’t find jobs easy to get with his reputation. I’d just like to settle this lot first. I don’t believe you’re serious about it, you’re simply having a lark.

  PUNTILA, with a pained smile: So that’s what you think of me, Matti. You don’t understand me, do you, though I’ve given you every chance to.

  THE RED-HEADED MAN: Do you mind writing out my contract now. Or I’ll have to look for something else.

  PUNTILA: You’re frightening them away, Matt. Your highhanded behaviour forces me to deny my real self. But that’s not me, let me show you. I don’t go buying people up, I give them a home on the Puntila estate. Don’t I?

  THE RED-HEADED MAN: Then I’m off. I need a job. He goes.

  PUNTILA: Stop! He’s gone. I could have used him. His trousers wouldn’t matter. I look deeper than that. I don’t like fixing a deal after drinking just one glass, how can you do business when you’d rather be singing because life’s so beautiful? When I start thinking about that drive home – I find the Hall looks its best in the evenings, on account of the birch trees – we must have another drink. Here, buy yourselves a round, have a good time with Puntila, I like to see it and I don’t count the cost when it’s with people I like. He quickly gives a mark to each of them. To the weedy man: Don’t be put off by him, he’s got something against me, you’ll be able to stand it all right. I’ll put you in the mill, in a cushy job.

  MATTI: Why not make him out a contract?

  PUNTILA: What for, now we know each other? I give you people my word it’ll be all right. You understand what that means, the word of a Tavastland farmer? Mount Hatelma can crumble, it’s not very likely but it can, Tavasthus Castle can collapse, why not, but the word of a Tavastland farmer stands for ever, everyone knows that. You can come along.

  THE WEEDY MAN: Thank you very much, Mr Puntila, I’ll certainly come.

  MATTI: You’d do better to get the hell out of here. I’m not blaming you, Mr Puntila, I’m only worried for the men’s sake.

  PUNTILA, warmly: That’s what I wanted to hear, Matti. I knew you weren’t the sort to bear a grudge. And I admire your integrity, and how you always have my best interests at heart. But it is Puntila’s privilege to have his own worst interests at heart, that’s something you haven’t yet learnt. All the same, Matt, you mustn’t stop saying what you think. Promise me you won’t. To the others: At Tammerfors he lost his job with a company director because when the man drove he so crashed the gears that Matt told him he ought to have been a public hangman.

  MATTI: That was a stupid thing to do.

  PUNTILA, seriously: It’s those stupid things that make me respect you.

  MATTI, getting up: Then let’s go. And what about Surkkala?

  PUNTILA: Matti, Matti, O thou of little faith! Didn’t I tell you we’d take him back with us because he’s a first-rate worker and a man who thinks for himself? And that reminds me, the fat man just now who wanted to get my men away from me. I’ve one or two things to say to him, he’s a typical capitalist.

  5

  Scandal at Puntila Hall

  Yard at Puntila Hall, with a bath hut into which we can see. Morning. Above the main entrance to the house Laina the cook and Fina the parlourmaid are nailing a sign saying ‘Welcome to the engagement party’. Through the gateway come Puntila and Matti with a number of woodcutters including Red Surkkala.

  LAINA: Welcome back to Puntila Hall. Miss Eva’s here with the Attache and his honour the Judge, and they’re all having breakfast.

  PUNTILA: First thing I want to do is apologise to you and your family, Surkkala. May I ask you to go and get your children, all four of them, so I can express my personal regret for the fear and insecurity they must have been through?

  SURKKALA: No call for that, Mr Puntila.

  PUNTILA, seriously: Oh yes there is.

  Surkkala goes.

  PUNTILA: These gentlemen are staying. Get them all an aquavit, Laina. I’m taking them on to work in the forest.

  LAINA: I thought you were selling the forest.

  PUNTILA: Me? I’m not selling any forest. My daughter’s got her dowry between her legs, right?

  MATTI: So maybe we could settle their contracts, Mr Puntila, and then you’ll have it off your chest.

  PUNTILA: I’m going into the sauna, Fina; bring aquavits for the gentlemen and a coffee for me.

  He goes into the sauna.

  THE WEEDY MAN: Think he’ll take me on?

  MATTI: Not when he’s sober and has a look at you.

  THE WEEDY MAN: But when he’s drunk he won’t settle any contracts.

  MATTI: I told you people it was a mistake coming up here till you had your contracts in your hands.

  Fina brings out aquavit, and each of the labourers takes a glass.

  THE LABOURER: What’s he like otherwise?

  MATTI: Too familiar. It won’t matter to you, you’ll be in the forest, but I’m with him in the car, I can’t get away from him and before I know where I am he’s turning all human on me. I’ll have to give notice.

  Surkkala comes back with his four children. The eldest girl is holding the baby.

  MATTI, quietly: For God’s sake clear off right away. Once he’s had his bath and knocked back his coffee he’ll be stone cold sober and better look out if he catches you around the yard. Take my advice, you’ll keep out of his sight the next day or two.

  Surkkala nods and is about to hasten away with the children.

  PUNTILA, who has undressed and listened but failed to hear the end of this, peers out of the bath hut and observes Surkkala and the children: I’ll be with you in a moment. Matti, come inside, I need you to pour the water over me. To the weedy man: You can come in too, I want to get to know you better.

  Matti and the weedy man follow Puntila into the bath hut. Matti sloshes water over Puntila. Surkkala quickly goes off with the children.

  PUNTILA: One bucket’s enough. I loathe water.

  MATTI: You’ll have to bear with a few buckets more, then you can have a coffee and be the perfect host.

  PUNTILA: I can be the perfect host as I am. You’re just wanting to bully me.

  THE WEEDY MAN: I say that’s enough too. Mr Puntila can’t stand water, it’s obvious.

  PUNTILA: There you are, Matti, there speaks somebody who feels for me. I’d like you to tell him how I saw off the fat man at the hiring fair.

  Enter Fina.

  PUNTILA: Here’s that golden creature with my coffee. Is it strong? I’d like a liqueur with it.

  MATTI: Then what’s the point of the coffee? No liqueur for you.

  PUNTILA: I know, you’re cross with me for keeping these people waiting, and quite right too. But tell them about the fat man. Fina must hear this. Starts telling: One of those nasty fat individuals with a blotchy face, a proper capitalist, who was trying to sneak a worker away from me. I grabbed hold of him, but when we reached my car he’d got his gig parked alongside it. You go on, Matt, I must drink my coffee.

  MATTI: He was livid when he saw Mr Puntila, and took his whip and lashed his pony till it reared.

  PUNTILA: I can’t abide cruelty to animals.

  MATTI: Mr Puntila took the pony by the reins and calmed it down and told the fat man what he thought of him, and I thought he was going to get a crack with the whip, only the fat man didn’t dare since we outnumbered him. So he muttered something about uneducated people, thinking we wouldn’t hear it perhaps, but Mr Puntila’s got a sharp ear when he dislikes someone and answered back at once: had he been educated well enough to know that being too fat can give you a stroke?

  PUNTILA: Tell him how he went red as a turkeycock and got so angry he couldn’t make a witty comeback in front of them all.

  MATTI: He went as red as a turkeycock and Mr Puntila told him he shouldn’t get excited, it was bad for him on account of his unhealthy corpulence. He ought never to go red in the face, it was a sign the blood was going to his brain, and for the sake of his loved ones he should avoid t
hat.

  PUNTILA: You’re forgetting I addressed most of my remarks to you, saying we shouldn’t be exciting him and ought to treat him gently. That got under his skin, did you notice?

  MATTI: We spoke about him as if he wasn’t there, everybody laughed more and more and he kept getting redder and redder. That was when he really started looking like a turkeycock, before that he was more a sort of faded brick. He asked for it; what did he have to lash his horse for? I remember a fellow once got so cross when a ticket fell out of his hatband where he’d stuck it for safekeeping that he trampled his hat flat underfoot in a chock-full third class compartment.

  PUNTILA: You’re losing the thread. I went on and told him that any violent physical exercise like lashing ponies with a whip could easily kill him. That in itself was good enough reason why he shouldn’t maltreat his beast, not in his condition.

  FINA: Nobody should.

  PUNTILA: That earns you a liqueur, Fina. Go and help yourself.

  MATTI: She’s holding the coffee tray. I hope you’re starting to feel better now, Mr Puntila?

  PUNTILA: I feel worse.

  MATTI: I thought it was really fine of Mr Puntila to tell that fellow where he got off. Because he could easily have said ‘What business is it of mine? I’m not making enemies among the neighbours.’

  PUNTILA, who is gradually sobering up: I’m not afraid of enemies.

  MATTI: That’s true. But there aren’t many people who can say that. You can. And you can always send your mares somewhere else.

  PUNTILA: Why should we send the mares somewhere else?

  MATTI: They were saying afterwards that that fat bloke is the one who has bought Summala, which has the only stallion within five hundred miles who’s any good for our mares.

  FINA: Gosh, it was the new owner of Summala. And you only found that out afterwards?

  Puntila gets up and goes behind to pour a further bucket of water over his head.

  MATTI: Not afterwards, actually. Mr Puntila already knew. He yelled after the fat man that his stallion was too beaten up for our mares. How did you put it?

  PUNTILA, curtly: Somehow.

  MATTI: Not somehow. It was witty.

  FINA: But what a job it will be if we have to send the mares all that distance to be served.

  PUNTILA, brooding: More coffee. He is given it.

  MATTI: Kindness to animals is supposed to be a great thing with the Tavast people. That’s what so surprised me about the fat man. Another thing I heard later was that he was Mrs Klinckmann’s brother-in-law. I bet if Mr Puntila had known that he’d have given him an even worse going-over.

  Puntila gives him a look.

  FINA: Coffeee strong enough, was it?

  PUNTILA: Don’t ask stupid questions. You can see I’ve drunk it, can’t you? To Matti: You, don’t just sit on your bottom, stop loafing, clean some boots, wash the car. Don’t contradict, and if I catch you spreading malicious rumours I’ll put it down in your reference, so watch out.

  Exit in his bathrobe, brooding.

  FINA: What did you want to let him make that scene with the fat owner of Summala for?

  MATTI: Am I his guardian angel? Look, if I see him doing a dangerous and kindly action, stupidly because it’s against his own interests, am I supposed to stop him? Anyhow I couldn’t. When he’s pissed as that he’s got real fire in him. He’d just despise me, and I don’t want him to despise me when he’s pissed.

  PUNTILA off, calls: Fina!

  Fina follows with his clothes.

  PUNTILA, to Fina: Now this is what I’ve decided, and I want you to listen so what I say doesn’t get twisted around later as it usually does. Indicating one of the labourers: I’d have taken that one, he isn’t out to curry favour, he wants to work, but I’ve thought it over and I’m taking nobody at all. I’m going to sell the forest in any case, and you can blame it on him there for deliberately leaving me in the dark about something I needed to know, the bastard. And that reminds me. Calls: Here, you! Matti emerges from the bath hut. Yes, you. Give me your jacket. You’re to hand over your jacket, d’you hear? He is handed Matti’s jacket. Got you, boyo. Shows him the wallet. That’s what I found in your pocket. Had a feeling about you, spotted you for an old lag first go off. Is that my wallet or isn’t it?

  MATTI: Yes, Mr Puntila.

  PUNTILA: Now you’re for it, ten years’ gaol, all I have to do is ring the police.

  MATTI: Yes, Mr Puntila.

  PUNTILA: But that’s a favour I’m not doing you. So you can lead the life of Riley in a cell, lying around and eating the taxpayer’s bread, what? That’d suit you down to the ground. At harvest time too. So you’d get out of driving the tractor. But I’m putting it all down in your reference, you get me?

  MATTI: Yes, Mr Puntila.

  Puntila walks angrily towards the house. On the threshold stands Eva, carrying her straw hat. She has been listening.

  THE WEEDY MAN: Should I come along then, Mr Puntila?

  PUNTILA: You’re no use to me whatever, you’ll never stand it.

  THE WEEDY MAN: But the hiring fair’s over now.

  PUNTILA: You should have thought of that sooner instead of trying to take advantage of my friendly mood. I remember exactly who takes advantage of it. He goes brooding into the house.

  THE LABOURER: That’s them. Bring you here in their car, and now we have to walk the six miles back on our flat feet. And no job. That’s what comes of letting yourself get taken in by their acting friendly.

  THE WEEDY MAN: I’ll report him.

  MATTI: Who to?

  Embittered, the labourers leave the yard.

  EVA: But why don’t you stick up for yourself? We all know he hands his wallet to somebody else to pay for him when he’s been drinking.

  MATTI: If I stuck up for myself he wouldn’t understand. I’ve noticed that the gentry don’t much like it when you stick up for yourself.

  EVA: Don’t act so innocent and humble. I’m not in the mood for jokes today.

  MATTI: Yes, they’re hitching you to the Attache.

  EVA: Don’t be crude. The Attache is a very sweet person, only not to get married to.

  MATTI: That’s normal enough. No girl’s going to be able to marry all the sweet people or all the Attaches, she has to settle for a particular one.

  EVA: My father’s leaving it entirely up to me, you heard him say so, that’s why he said I could marry you if I liked. Only he has promised my hand to the Attache and doesn’t want anyone to say he doesn’t keep his word. That’s the only reason why I’m taking so long to make up my mind and might accept him after all.

  MATTI: Got yourself in a nice jam, you have.

  EVA: I am not in any jam, as you so vulgarly put it. In fact I can’t think why I’m discussing such intimate matters with you.

  MATTI: It’s a very human habit, discussing. It’s one great advantage we have over the animals. If cows could discuss, for instance, there’d soon be no more slaughterhouses.

  EVA: What has that to do with my saying I don’t think I shall be happy with the Attache? And that he must be the one to back out, only how’s one to suggest it to him?

  MATTI: That’s not the sort of thing you can do with a pinprick, it needs a sledgehammer.

  EVA: What d’you mean?

  MATTI: I mean that it’s a job for me. I’m crude.

  EVA: How might you picture helping me in such a delicate situation?

  MATTI: Well, suppose I’d felt encouraged by Mr Puntila’s kind suggestion that you should take me, like he let slip when plastered. And you felt the lure of my crude strength, just think of Tarzan, and the Attache caught us and said to himself, she’s unworthy of me, messing around with the chauffeur.

  EVA: That’d be too much to ask of you.

  MATTI: It’d be part of the job, like cleaning the car. It needn’t take above a quarter of an hour. All we need do is show him we are on terms of intimacy.

  EVA: And how do you propose to show him that?

  MATTI: I
could call you by your Christian name in his presence.

  EVA: For instance?

  MATTI: Your blouse has a button undone, Eva.

  EVA feels behind her: No, it hasn’t; oh, I see, you’d started acting. But he wouldn’t mind. He’s not all that easily offended, he’s too much in debt for that.

  MATTI: Or I could accidentally pull one of your stockings out of my pocket when I blow my nose, and make sure that he sees.

  EVA: That’s a bit better, but then he’ll only say you pinched it in my absence because you have a secret crush on me. Pause. You’ve not got a bad imagination for that sort of thing, it seems.

  MATTI: I do what I can, Miss Eva. I’m trying to picture every conceivable situation and awkward occasion that might involve us both, and hoping to come up with the right answer.

  EVA: You can stop that.

  MATTI: All right, I’ll stop it.

  EVA: For instance, what?

  MATTI: If his debts are all that enormous then we’ll simply have to come out of the bath hut together, nothing less will do the trick, he’ll always manage to find some sort of innocent explanation. For instance if I merely kiss you he’d say I was forcing myself on you ‘cause your beauty overcame me. And so on.

  EVA: I never can tell when you’re just laughing at me behind my back. One can’t be sure with you.

  MATTI: What do you want to be sure for? You’re not making an investment, are you? Being unsure is much more human, as your daddy would say. I like women to be unsure.

  EVA: Yes, I can imagine that.

  MATTI: There you are, your imagination’s not so bad either.

  EVA: I was only saying how difficult it is to tell what you’re really up to.

  MATTI: That’s something you can’t tell with a dentist either, what he’ll be up to once you’re sitting in his chair.

  EVA: Look, when you talk that way I realise the bath hut business wouldn’t work, because you’d be sure to take advantage of the situation.

  MATTI: At least something’s sure now. If you’re going to hesitate much longer I shall lose all desire to compromise you, Miss Eva.

  EVA: Much better if you do it with no particular desire. Now listen to me. I accept the bath hut idea, I trust you. They’ll be through with breakfast any minute, after which they’re bound to walk up and down the verandah to discuss the engagement. We’d better go in there right away.