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    Bertolt Brecht: Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder 7

    Page 42
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      And precious gift.

      DUCHESS

      It is not gifts I’d have

      My brother send me. The noblest boon within

      His power to grant is friendship to my friends.

      BOSOLA

      Bring on the gift.

      DUCHESS

      To Cariola.

      Methinks I hardly know my brother now

      Yet once he loved me well.

      The servants bring on a huge carved chest. They are preceded by a

      flute-player playing on his instrument.

      BOSOLA

      Here is the key.

      CARIOLA

      ’Tis a costly gift.

      DUCHESS

      Set it in my bedchamber.

      BOSOLA

      There’s more within.

      DUCHESS

      Must I open it?

      BOSOLA

      Aye.

      She slowly goes to it, unlocks the doors and flings them open. The bodies of Antonio and her child fall out. Cariola screams. Duchess stands frozen with horror.

      Your brother does present you this sad spectacle

      That now you know directly they are dead

      Hereafter you may wisely cease to grieve

      For that which can not be recovered.

      The Duchess faints. Flutist suddenly perceives what has happened and stops abruptly. Bosola raises duchess.

      Remember you are a Christian.

      Leave this vain sorrow.

      Things being at the worst begin to mend,

      The bee when he has shot his sting into your hand

      May then play with your eyelid.

      The Duchess faints again and is carried off by her women.

      CARIOLA

      Good comfortable fellow,

      Persuade a wretch that’s broke upon the wheel

      To have all his bones new set!

      She follows the Duchess.

      FERDINAND

      From the gallery.

      She is lost! I can not save her.

      BOSOLA

      Why do you do this? Is it not too cruel?

      She hath suffered much.

      FERDINAND

      Coming down.

      Base varlet, there’s too much pity in thy pleading!

      BOSOLA

      Sir, I have served you well. I have rather sought

      To appear true than honest. I swear to you

      She hath had eyes for no one but her husband.

      Faith, end here. Furnish her with beads and prayer book

      And let her save her soul.

      FERDINAND

      Damn her, that body of hers,

      While that my blood ran pure in it, was worth more

      Than that thing thou wouldst comfort called a soul.

      I see her sin sits deeper than I thought.

      To this vile appetite for her own steward

      She now adds shameful tears and mourns his death

      And in her lecherous grief she naked stands,

      The widow of a sweaty stableboy.

      To cure such maladies the surgeon’s knife

      Must cut until it pricks the patient’s life.

      Scene 3

      A room in Ferdinand’s castle. On stage, Delio, a physician, Ferdinand’s Negro page.

      PHYSICIAN

      Is the duke of a melancholy or choleric humour?

      PAGE

      He oft hath had these violent fits of late.

      DELIO

      On the morrow of the cardinal’s strange

      And sudden death his gentlemen found him

      All on a cold sweat and altered much in face

      And language.

      PAGE

      Since when he hath grown worse and worse

      And yet, at times, he seems himself again.

      PHYSICIAN

      What other symptoms

      Doth his indisposition shew?

      DELIO

      One met the Duke ’bout midnight in a lane

      Behind St. Mark’s church with the leg of a man

      Upon his shoulder and he howled fearfully,

      Said he was a wolf, only the difference

      Was a wolf’s skin was hairy on the outside,

      His on the inside, bade them take their swords

      Rip up his and try.

      PAGE

      Straight you were sent for.

      PHYSICIAN

      ’Tis a very pestilent disease, good sir.

      They call it lycanthropia.

      DELIO

      What’s that?

      PHYSICIAN

      In those that are possessed with it there o’erflows

      Such melancholy humour they imagine

      Themselves to be transformed into wolves,

      Steal forth into churchyards in the dead of night

      And dig dead bodies up.

      DELIO

      Can you cure it?

      PHYSICIAN

      Let me hear more. I must sound the depths

      Of his distraction.

      PAGE

      Once I did ask him why he loved solitariness. And he replied that eagles commonly fly alone. They are daws, crows and starlings that flock together. And on a sudden he started most fearfully and cried ‘What follows me?’ And then he flung himself upon the gound and said he would throttle his shadow.

      PHYSICIAN

      ’Tis most grave.

      PAGE

      Straightway he sprung up violently and stared about him and cried out, ‘Rogues, knaves, bawds! Oh the world is sick. I think only the cold tomb can cure it. Blood’s the potion for this disease. When I go to hell I mean to carry a bribe. Good gifts make way for the worst persons’. And then he drew his sword, howling most horribly, ‘Hence, hence! There’s nothing left of you but tongue and belly, flattery and lechery!’ And all must flee before him.

      PHYSICIAN

      This is a sickness past all curing.

      DELIO

      And what of the book?

      PAGE

      The Lord Ferdinand did enquire concerning

      A certain apothecary, a poor

      Quack-salving knave whom ’tis whispered

      Poisoned his mistress with a book.

      DELIO

      I like it not. I do fear for the Duchess.

      Nature is contrary in these fits. ’Tis known

      That madmen mischief those they love.

      I’ll to the Count Malatesta. ’Tis time

      My lady was married. Oh in her widowhood

      She’s weaker than a bullrush and I fear

      This raging wind will bend her till she breaks.

      Scene 4

      A room in the Duchess’ palace.

      On stage Duchess and Cariola.

      CARIOLA

      Be of good cheer, my lady! There is a great tumult in the city. Methinks the noble Count Malatesta comes hither to pay you court. Pray let me set this pillow beneath your head; ’twill raise you so that you may feel the sea breeze on your face. They say it is a restorative.

      DUCHESS

      If they would bind me to that lifeless trunk

      And let me freeze to death!

      CARIOLA

      Come, you must live.

      DUCHESS

      This is a prison.

      CARIOLA

      Yes, but you shall live.

      To shake this durance off.

      DUCHESS

      Thou art a fool.

      CARIOLA

      What think you of, Madam?

      DUCHESS

      Of nothing. Sing me somewhat. Do you remember

      That song of men unburied?

      CARIOLA

      Starts to sing

      Call for the robin red breast and the wren,

      Since o’er shady groves they hover,

      And with leaves and flowers do cover

      The friendless bodies of unburied men.

      DUCHESS

      Nay, do not sing. Repeat the words to me.

      CARIOLA

      Call unto his funeral dole

      The ant, the field mouse and the mole

      To rear him hillocks that
    shall keep him warm.

      And, when gay tombs are robbed, sustain no harm;

      But keep the wolf far thence that’s foe to men

      For with his nails he’ll dig them up again.

      DUCHESS

      Let holy church receive him duly

      Since he paid the church tithes truly.

      Pause.

      Dost thou think we shall know one another

      In the other world?

      CARIOLA

      Yes, out of question.

      DUCHESS

      O that it were possible we might

      But hold some two days conference with the dead!

      From them I should learn somewhat, I am sure

      I never shall know here. I’ll tell thee a miracle:

      I am not mad yet, to my cause of sorrow.

      I am full of daggers and yet I am not mad.

      I am acquainted with sad misery

      As the tanned galley slave is with his oar;

      Necessity makes me suffer constantly

      And custom makes it easy. Who do I look like now?

      CARIOLA

      Like to your picture in the gallery,

      A deal of life in show but none in practice.

      DUCHESS

      In my last will I have not much to give

      As many hungry guests have fed upon me,

      Thine will be a poor reversion, Cariola.

      What noise is that?

      Four waiting women enter and begin to attire the Duchess in her robes of state. Meanwhile a priest enters and reads a Latin proclamation lifting the excommunication and restoring her estates. Bosola enters with a book.

      What means this? Pray Heaven

      It is the end.

      WOMAN

      ’Tis by order of the Duke, your brother.

      BOSOLA

      As bells begin to peal.

      At the instigation of the Duke, your brother,

      The Pope hath revoked your excommunication

      And restored you your estates.

      CARIOLA

      You are Duchess

      Of Malfi once more! See, ’tis the end of all

      Your sorrow.

      DUCHESS

      What says the Cardinal?

      BOSOLA

      Corpses do not speak.

      DUCHESS

      Aye, but what says the Cardinal?

      BOSOLA

      His Holiness, the Lord Cardinal, Prince

      Of Ancona, is dead.

      DUCHESS

      Dead? What did you say?

      BOSOLA

      Lord Ferdinand would not forgive his publishing

      Of your misfortunes.

      DUCHESS

      My brother? Slain by my brother?

      BOSOLA

      Executed.

      DUCHESS

      And I? He’ll slay me, too.

      BOSOLA

      Who speaks of that? Surely your brother

      Would have you live, my lady.

      DUCHESS

      Then say to him:

      I long to bleed;

      It is some mercy when men kill with speed.

      BOSOLA

      Come, be of comfort. The Duke hath done this

      On your account and you must live.

      DUCHESS

      That is the greatest torture souls feel

      In hell; that they must live and can not die.

      Come, wish me long life and I would thou wert hanged

      For the horrible curse that thou hast given me.

      I do feel that I shall shortly grow

      One of the miracles of pity yet a thing

      So wretched as can not pity itself.

      Why do I waste these words upon you?

      I account this world a tedious theatre

      For I do play a part in’t against my will.

      Bosola, is my brother mad?

      BOSOLA

      Only in what concerns you. He thinks of naught

      Save your welfare and desires of you but one thing,

      That you shall swear upon this prayer book

      Never to marry again. Here is the book

      And you must kiss it.

      DUCHESS

      Methinks I do begin

      To know somewhat I never knew before.

      O my poor brother! Give me the book!

      If that will cure him of his fearful rage,

      I’ll swear it gladly

      Takes book.

      I swear I’ll never marry.

      May this put his mind at rest.

      Kisses book.

      BOSOLA

      By this he doth make sure you shall not break your oath.

      He’ll visit you anon.

      Exits with waiting women.

      CARIOLA

      Beloved lady you should rest.

      DUCHESS

      How?

      My mind is full of shadows. There are fearful

      Questions, half forgot and never answered

      Which do concern my brother, Ferdinand.

      CARIOLA

      My lady, you are pale. Think not upon your brother.

      ’Tis clear he hates you.

      DUCHESS

      I think you are deceived. I would you were not.

      Cariola, there are sins with deeper roots

      Than hate and there are wishes that shall be nameless—

      You do not understand, for this I envy thee.

      CARIOLA

      Nay, my lady, such thoughts are bred of sickness. When you

      are sound again they’ll fly out of the window.

      DUCHESS

      I grow sicker, Cariola. I think I must die shortly.

      CARIOLA

      ’Tis a denial of God to speak so.

      DUCHESS

      My legs grow numb. ’Tis not pain I feel yet my foot seems to

      be sleeping.

      CARIOLA

      How strange you look! Surely somewhat you have eaten sits

      ill upon your stomach. I will chafe your legs.

      Suddenly.

      The book you kissed! ’Twas the book! Villains, poisoners,

      murderers! Help! My lady is stricken. Cry out for help!

      DUCHESS

      To whom?

      Waiting women rush on.

      CARIOLA

      Heat water! Fetch some cordial!

      The Duke hath done this! Fetch water, wine!

      My lady is poisoned. Quickly, seek a doctor!

      DUCHESS

      There is none for me. My sickness is mortal.

      I know his secret now. I do perceive the cause

      Of this enforcing of my chastity,

      This spying, this present in the chest,

      And this distracted slaughter of his brother

      Who bared my woes in public! All this fury,

      This cruelty and this despair, even the poison,

      To punish me ’cause I had shared my bed.

      CARIOLA

      Pray drink this cordial.

      DUCHESS

      To what end?

      Nay, give it to me for I must live until

      My brother comes that I may speak to him

      And tell him what I know. I do feel such pity

      That all is washed away, the ruin he hath wrought,

      I am so weary I would rest.

      CARIOLA

      No, my lady.

      From these slumbrous poisons no one wakes again.

      DUCHESS

      Why then I must not sleep. Help me, Cariola.

      Let’s walk and never let me rest. Thy promise!

      She is helped up and begins to walk up and down supported by Cariola. The women weep.

      Let someone watch to see when the Duke be come.

      Make haste. My time is short.

      Some go to the window to watch.

      Do not weep so loud.

      I am not deaf yet and this noise disturbs me.

      To Cariola:

      I pray thou givest my little boy

      Some syrup for his cold and let the girl

      Say her prayers ere she sleep. But I must walk

      And when I falter, d
    o thou urge me on. Cry loudly

      In my ear: do not stay.—I grow giddy.

      CARIOLA

      Lean on me, my lady.

      The Duchess staggers.

      DUCHESS

      Now all the coldness of this icy world

      Creeps in about my heart. My brother is too slow.

      For once this lingering pain is o’er.

      Oh let me die for I can wait no more.

      She dies. Women wail. Ferdinand enters with his train accompanied by Bosola.

      FERDINAND

      Is she dead?

      CARIOLA

      Weeping.

      She is what you’d have her.

      FERDINAND

      Cover her face. Mine eyes dazzle. She died young.

      CARIOLA

      I think not so. Her infelicity

      Seemed to have years too many.

      FERDINAND

      She and I were twins. She was born some minutes

      After me and died some minutes sooner.

      Let me see her face again.

      To Bosola.

      Why didst thou not pity her

      Or, bold in a good cause, oppose thyself

      Between her innocence and my revenge!

      I bade thee, when I was distracted of my wits,

      Go kill my dearest friend and thou hast done it.

      For let me but examine well the cause.

      What was the meanness of her match to me?

      Only, I must confess, I had a hope,

      Had she continued widow, to have gained

      An infinite mass of treasure by her death.

      This hath an evil sound yet not so evil

      As another reason I’ll not speak of.

      We’ll say the cause was my ungoverned passions,

      My cruelty and spite. Only I fear

      It is not true. Oh my sister!

      He kneels by the body.

      Return fair soul from darkness and lead mine

      Out of this sensible hell. She’s warm! She breathes!

      Upon thy pale lips I will melt my heart!

      BOSOLA

      Nay, she is gone. Indeed we can not be suffered

      To do good when we have a mind to it!

      FERDINAND

      Where is the book?

      Bosola gives it to him.

      Is this the spot?

      He kisses it.

      I am weary. Pray fetch me a chair, Bosola.

      He seats himself and stares straight before him.

      I have come a long way to sit here

      And from this spot I’ll never stir while I do live.

      Scene 5

      The courtyard of the Duchess’ castle.

      Enter Bosola.

      BOSOLA

      We are like dead walls or only vaulted graves

      That ruined yield no echoes. Oh this gloomy world,

      In what a shadow or deep pit of darkness

      Doth womanish and fearful mankind live?

      I stand like one hath ta’en a sweet and golden dream,

      I am angry with myself now that I wake.

      What would I do were this to do again?

      O penitence, let me truly taste thy cup.

      Hark, here comes the noble Count Malatesta

      That would have wooed our Duchess and arrives

     


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