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    Bertolt Brecht: Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder 7

    Page 38
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      We now are man and wife and ’tis the church

      That must but echo this. Maid, stand apart;

      I now am blind!

      ANTONIO

      What do you mean by this ?

      DUCHESS

      I would have you lead your fortune by the hand

      Unto your marriage bed:

      (You speak in me in this, for we now are one.)

      We’ll only lie and talk together and plot

      To appease my passionate kindred; and if you please,

      Like the old tale, in Alexander and Lodowicke,

      Lay a naked sword between us, keep us chaste.

      Oh let me shroud my blushes in your bosom,

      Since ’tis the treasury of all my secrets!

      Duchess and Antonio exit.

      CARIOLA

      Whether the spirit of greatness or of woman

      Reign in her most, I know not; but it shows

      A fearful madness. I owe her much of pity.

      Scene 3

      A room in the Duchess’ palace. Some months later.

      Enter Bosola with a book.

      BOSOLA

      What thing is in this outward form of man

      To be beloved? We account it ominous

      If nature do produce a colt, or lamb,

      A fawn or goat in any limb resembling

      A man and fly from it as a prodigy.

      Man stands amazed to see his own deformity

      In any other creature but himself.

      But in our own flesh, though we bear diseases

      Which have their true names only taken from beasts

      And the most ulcerous wolf and swinish measle;

      Though we are eaten up with lice and worms

      And though continually we bear about us

      A rotten and dead body, we delight

      To hide it in rich tissue. All our fear,

      Nay all our terror is lest our physician

      Should put us in the ground to be made sweet.

      But I have work on foot: I observe our duchess

      Is sick a days, she pukes, her stomach seethes,

      The fins of her eyelids look most teeming blue,

      She wanes in the cheek and waxes fat in the flank

      And, contrary to our Italian fashion,

      Wears a loose-bodied gown; there’s somewhat in it.

      I have a trick may chance discover it—

      A pretty one—I have bought some apricots,

      The first our spring yields.

      Enter Antonio.

      ANTONIO

      Pointing to book.

      You are studying to become a great wise fellow?

      BOSOLA

      Let me be simply honest.

      ANTONIO

      I do understand your inside.

      BOSOLA

      Do you so?

      Shall I confess myself to you? I look no higher than I can reach: They are gods that must ride on winged horses. A lawyer’s mule of a slow pace will suit both my disposition and business. For, mark me, when a man’s mind rides faster than his horse can gallop, they both quickly tire.

      ANTONIO

      You would look up to heaven but I think the devil that rules in the air stands in your light.

      BOSOLA

      Oh sir, you are lord of the ascendant, chief man with the Duchess. Search the heads of the greatest rivers in the world, you shall find them but bubbles of water. Some would think the souls of princes were brought forth by some more weighty cause than those of meaner persons. They are deceived, there’s the same hand to them, the like passions sway them; the same reason that makes a vicar go to law for a tithe-pig and undo his neighbours makes them spoil a whole province and batter down goodly cities with the cannon.

      Enter Duchess and ladies of her court.

      DUCHESS

      Your arm, Antonio: do I now grow fat?

      I am exceeding short-winded. Bosola

      I would have you sir, provide for me a litter

      Such a one as the Duchess of Florence rode in.

      BOSOLA

      The duchess used one when she was great with child.

      DUCHESS

      I think she did.

      To lady.

      Come hither, mend my ruff,

      Here, when? Thou art such a tedious lady

      And thy breath smells of lemon peels—would thou hadst

      done!

      Shall I swoon under thy fingers ? I am

      So troubled with the vapours!

      BOSOLA

      Aside.

      I fear too much.

      DUCHESS

      I have heard you say the French courtiers

      Wear their hats on fore the king.

      ANTONIO

      I have seen it.

      DUCHESS

      In the presence.

      ANTONIO

      Yes.

      DUCHESS

      Why should not we bring up that fashion?

      ’Tis ceremony more than duty that consists

      In the removing of a piece of felt.

      Be you the example to the rest o’ th’ court.

      Put on your hat first.

      ANTONIO

      You must pardon me.

      I have seen in colder countries than in France

      Nobles stand bare to the prince: and the distinction

      Methought showed reverently.

      BOSOLA

      I have a present for your grace.

      DUCHESS

      For me, sir?

      BOSOLA

      Apricots, madam.

      DUCHESS

      O sir, where are they?

      I have heard of none to year.

      BOSOLA

      Aside.

      Good, her colour rises.

      DUCHESS

      As they are brought on.

      Indeed I thank you; they are wondrous fair ones.

      What an unskilful fellow is our gardener!

      We shall have none this month.

      BOSOLA

      As she bites into one.

      Will not your grace pare them?

      DUCHESS

      No, they taste of musk methinks; indeed they do.

      BOSOLA

      I know not; yet I wish your Grace had pared them.

      DUCHESS

      Why?

      BOSOLA

      I forgot to tell you the knave gardener,

      Only to raise his profit by them sooner,

      Did ripen them in horse dung.

      DUCHESS

      Oh you jest.

      You shall judge. Pray taste one.

      ANTONIO

      Indeed, madam,

      I do not love the fruit.

      DUCHESS

      Sir, you are loath

      To rob us of our dainties. ’Tis a delicate fruit;

      They say they are restorative.

      BOSOLA

      ’Tis a pretty

      Art, this grafting.

      DUCHESS

      ’Tis so; a bettering of nature.

      BOSOLA

      To make a pippin grow upon a crab,

      A damson on a blackthorn—

      Aside.

      How greedily she eats them!

      A whirlwind strike off these bawd-farthingales!

      For, but for that and the loose-bodied gown,

      I should have discovered apparently

      The young springal cutting a caper in her belly.

      DUCHESS

      I thank you, Bosola, they were right good ones,

      If they do not make me sick.

      ANTONIO

      How now, madam?

      DUCHESS

      This green fruit and my stomach are not friends—

      How they swell me!

      BOSOLA

      Aside.

      Nay, you are too much swelled already!

      DUCHESS

      Oh, I am in an extreme cold sweat!

      BOSOLA

      I am very sorry.

      DUCHESS

      Lights to my chamber! O, good Antonio,

      I fear I am undone!

      Exit with her ladies.

    &nbs
    p; ANTONIO

      Shut up the court gates.

      CASTRUCHIO

      Why, sir? What’s the danger?

      ANTONIO

      Shut up the posterns presently and call

      All the officers of the court.

      CASTRUCHIO

      I shall instantly.

      They exit.

      BOSOLA

      So, so, there’s no question but her tetchiness and most vulturous eating of the apricots are apparent signs of breeding. Now!

      Exits.

      After a moment Antonio enters from one side, Cariola and an old lady from the other, carrying linens and a ewer of water.

      OLD LADY

      Sir, you are the happy father of a son,

      Your wife commends him to you.

      ANTONIO

      Blessed comfort!

      For heaven’s sake tend her well. I’ll presently

      Go set a figure for his nativity.

      Scene 4

      The court of the palace.

      Enter Bosola with a dark lantern.

      BOSOLA

      Sure I did hear a woman shriek

      And the sound came, if I received it right,

      From the Duchess’ lodgings. There’s some stratagem

      In the confining all our courtiers

      To their several wards. I must have part of it;

      My intelligence will freeze else.

      It may be ’twas the melancholy bird,

      Best friend of silence and of solitariness,

      The owl that screamed so. Hsh! Antonio!

      ANTONIO

      Enters with a candle and his sword drawn.

      I heard some noise. Who’s there? What art thou? Speak.

      BOSOLA

      Antonio? Put not your face nor body

      To such a forced expression of fear.

      I am Bosola, your friend.

      ANTONIO

      Bosola?

      Aside.

      This mole does undermine me.—Heard you not

      A noise even now?

      BOSOLA

      From whence?

      ANTONIO

      From the Duchess’ lodging.

      BOSOLA

      Not I. Did you?

      ANTONIO

      I did or else I dreamed.

      BOSOLA

      Let’s walk towards it.

      ANTONIO

      No; it may be ’twas

      But the rising of the wind.

      BOSOLA

      Very likely.

      Methinks ’tis very cold and yet you sweat.

      You look wildly.

      ANTONIO

      I have been setting a figure

      For the Duchess’ jewels. They are stolen.

      BOSOLA

      And what have you discovered?

      ANTONIO

      What’s that to you?

      ’Tis rather to be questioned what design,

      When all men are commanded to their lodgings,

      Makes you a night walker?

      BOSOLA

      In sooth I’ll tell you.

      Now all the court’s asleep, I thought the devil

      Had least to do here. I came to say my prayers.

      ANTONIO

      Aside.

      I fear this fellow will undo me.

      To Bosola:

      You gave the Duchess apricots today.

      Pray heaven they were not poisoned.

      BOSOLA

      Poisoned? A Spanish fig

      For the imputation.

      ANTONIO

      Traitors are ever confident

      Till they are discovered. There were jewels stolen, too.

      In my belief none are to be suspected

      More than yourself.

      BOSOLA

      You are a false steward.

      ANTONIO

      Saucy slave! I’ll pull thee up by the roots.

      You are an impudent snake indeed, sir.

      Are you scarce warm and do you show your sting?

      You libel well, sir!

      BOSOLA

      Now, sir, copy it out

      And I will set my hand to it.

      ANTONIO

      My nose bleeds.

      Takes out handkerchief and drops paper as he does so.

      One that were superstitious would count

      This ominous, when it merely comes by chance.

      Two letters that are wrought here for my name

      Are drowned in blood. Mere accident. For you, sir,

      I’ll take order. This door you pass not.

      I do not hold it fit that you come near

      The Duchess’ lodgings till you have quit yourself.

      Exits.

      BOSOLA

      Antonio here did drop a paper—

      Raises lantern.

      Some of your help, false friend—Oh, here it is. What’s here?

      A child’s nativity calculated ?

      ‘The duchess was delivered of a son tween the hours twelve

      and one in the night, Anno Dom. 1504’.

      That’s this year—

      ‘decimo nono Decembris’,

      That’s this night—

      ‘Taken according to the meridian of Malfi’.

      That’s our Duchess. Happy discovery!

      ‘The lord of the first house being in the ascendant signifies

      short life; and Mars being in a human sign joined to the

      tail of the Dragon, in the eighth house, doth threaten a

      violent death. Caetera non scrutantur’.

      Why, now ’tis most apparent this precise fellow

      Is the Duchess’ pimp. I have it to my wish.

      This is news indeed.

      Our courtiers were cased up for it. It needs must follow

      That I must be committed on pretence

      Of poisoning her which I’ll endure and laugh at.

      If one could find the father now! But that

      Time will discover. Let me be dismissed,

      I’ll bear intelligence of this to the Duke

      Shall make his gall overflow his liver.

      Though lust do mask in ne’er so strange disguise,

      She’s oft found witty but is never wise.

      Scene 1

      The Duke of Calabria’s tent.

      Ferdinand attended by a Negro page who hands him his armour on state. Offstage a soldier sings.

      SONG

      I wrote my love a letter

      When we entered fair Milan:

      Oh the war will soon be over

      For the cook has lost his coppers

      And the captain’s lost his head

      And we’ve shot away our lead.

      FERDINAND

      Methinks this war, like a long winter, hath no end

      And Spring, frost-bitten, waits on victory.

      To page:

      My corselet.

      Page begins to buckle it on.

      How now, boy? How fares it with your love?

      PAGE

      She is well save for the stripes she hath earned from my rival. She hath an eye like a dark lantern for its light is securely hidden.

      FERDINAND

      ‘Tis time you rid her of this scurvy knave.

      PAGE

      How can I ? I am so small a thing she cannot see me. ’Tis e’en the same to her an I had not been born.

      FERDINAND

      And you born for her!

      PAGE

      She hath received no intelligence of it. Or mayhap she puts no credence i’ th’ stars.

      FERDINAND

      A tragedy.

      PAGE

      If she but knew it.

      Soldier enters.

      SOLDIER

      Entering.

      A gentleman would see the Duke.

      FERDINAND

      His name?

      SOLDIER

      Bosola.

      FERDINAND

      Bosola here?

      ’Tis very strange. What should be his business ? I’ll see him.

      To page:

      Now my beaver.

      Soldier exits and Bosola enters.

      BOS
    OLA

      Travel-stained and ragged.

      Your Grace.

      FERDINAND

      How fares the Duchess ?

      BOSOLA

      Blackbirds, they say, fatten best in hard weather. Why not I? Sir, I am worn out in your service. ’Tis two years since I left Malfi. There are rewards for horses and dogs but for a faithful servant only a sore breech from riding, these several scars, and scarce enough rags to cover my flesh.

      FERDINAND

      How fares the Duchess ?

      BOSOLA

      Your Grace, I was pitifully misdirected. I have been robbed, lain in prison, took sick of the plague and like to have died only to bring you intelligence shall earn your ingratitude. I am like a raven of ill omen that endures a score of tempests, two score snowstorms, eludes the hawk and the fowler, to croak a message against which all would stop their ears. Thus I am very industrious to work my own ruin.

      FERDINAND

      I said: how fares the Duchess ?

      BOSOLA

      Excellently.

      She hath a son.

      Ferdinand stands amazed.

      BOSOLA

      I said she hath a son.

      FERDINAND

      No!

      The Duke half draws his sword. Bosola quickly hands him a paper.

      BOSOLA

      Read this nativity. It speaks for me.

      While the Duke reads the paper the soldier sings offstage.

      But when we left the city

      Then a second war began

      Though the first was scarcely over

      And I’ll drink a thousand beakers

      With a whore upon my knee

      Till my love again I see.

      FERDINAND

      Reads.

      The Duchess was delivered of a son …

      Reads on, then speaks slowly.

      Mars joined to the Dragon’s tail doth prophesy

      Short life, a violent death.—Although ere now

      I put little faith i’ the stars, this forecast

      I’d believe—could I believe thee, lying knave!

      Suddenly.

      Who is the man?

      BOSOLA

      I know not.

      FERDINAND

      Violently.

      Uncase me, slave!

      He begins to tear off his armour. Outside alarms and sounds of battle.

      Ho, send me Delio. He shall command for me. I’ll go to Malfi.

      Delio enters. He is bleeding.

      DELIO

      Your Grace, the enemy hath surprised us. They fall upon us mightily with a great body of fresh horse. The Duchess’ great standard hath been taken.

      FERDINAND

      No matter.

      We give you our command. I am for Malfi.

      You shall lead our troops.

      DELIO

      Alas, I can not.

      He falls.

      FERDINAND

      What’s this? Delio’s hurt? We are undone!

      A Soldier rushes in.

      SOLDIER

      Sir, you are sorely needed.

      Ferdinand snatches up his armour and rushes out buckling it on. The sound of battle grows. Ferdinand turns back suddenly and speaks to Bosola.

      FERDINAND

      Thou villain, ’tis false! Thy paper is counterfeit.

      Yet I’ll come in a fortnight. Depend upon it—

     


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