Brecht Collected Plays: 1: Baal; Drums in the Night; In the Jungle of Cities; Life of Edward II of England; & 5 One Act Plays: "Baal", "Drums in the Night", "In the Jungle of Ci (World Classics) by Bertolt Brecht Read Free Book Online Page A

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    THE OLDER SISTER : A girl threw herself into the river. Johanna Reiher.
    THE YOUNGER SISTER : Into the Laach. I wouldn’t go in there. The current’s too strong.
    BAAL : Into the river? Does anyone know why?
    THE OLDER SISTER : There are rumours. People talk …
    THE YOUNGER SISTER : She went off one afternoon and stayed out all night.
    BAAL : Didn’t she go home in the morning?
    THE YOUNGER SISTER : No, then she went in the river. They haven’t found her yet.
    BAAL : Still afloat …
    THE YOUNGER SISTER : What’s the matter?
    THE OLDER SISTER : Nothing. A chill perhaps.
    BAAL : I’m too lazy today. You can go home.
    THE OLDER SISTER : You can’t do that, Mr Baal. You shouldn’t do that to her.
    Knocking at the door
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    THE YOUNGER SISTER : Somebody’s knocking. It’s mother.
    THE OLDER SISTER : For God’s sake, don’t open!
    THE YOUNGER SISTER : I’m frightened.
    THE OLDER SISTER : Here’s your blouse.
    Loud knocking
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    BAAL : If it’s your mother you’re in for it.
    THE OLDER SISTER
dressing quickly
: Wait a minute, don’t open yet. Bolt the door, please, for God’s sake!
    LANDLADY
fat, enters
: Ah ha! I thought as much. Two at a time now! Aren’t you ashamed of yourselves? A pair of you in his fishpond? Night and day, that fellow’s bed never getscold. Now I’m going to have my say. My attic isn’t a brothel.
    Baal turns to the wall
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    LANDLADY : You’re sleepy, are you? My word, don’t you ever get enough of it? I can see the daylight through you. You look like a ghost. You’re nothing but a bag of bones.
    BAAL
moving his arms
: Like swans they fly to my wood.
    LANDLADY
clapping her hands
: Nice swans! The way you put things! You could be a poet, you! If your knees don’t rot first.
    BAAL : I indulge in white bodies.
    LANDLADY : White bodies! You’re a poet, you really are! Don’t know what else you are though. And the poor young things! You’re sisters, are you? And snivelling because you’re poor orphans, I suppose. How about a good hiding? For your white bodies?
Baal laughs
. And he laughs. You ruin poor girls by the hundredweight, poor girls you drag here. You disgusting pig! I’m giving you notice. As for you, look sharp and back to your mother! I’m coming with you.
    The younger sister sobs loudly
.
    THE OLDER SISTER : It isn’t her fault.
    LANDLADY
taking both by the hand
: Now for the waterworks! These girls! Oh well, you’re not the only ones. That one’s up to his neck in swans. There’s plenty besides you he’s made happy, then dumped on the rubbish heap. Off with you now, into the fresh air! There’s no need for tears.
She puts her arms round them both
. I know what he’s like. I know the make. Stop snivelling, else it’ll show in your eyes. Go home to your mother like good girls and don’t do it again.
She pushes them out
. And you, you’ve had your notice. You can set up your swan-sty somewhere else.
She pushes the girls out of the room and goes out herself
.
    BAAL
gets up, stretches
: A bitch with a heart! … I’m dead lazy today anyway.
He throws paper down on the table and sits down
. I’ll make the new Adam.
He sketches big letters on the paper
. I’ll have a go at the inner man. I’m hollowed out, buthungry as a vulture. Nothing but a bag of bones. The bitch!
He leans back and stretches his arms and legs with emphasis
. I’ll make summer. Red. Scarlet red. Greedy.
He hums again
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    3
Evening
.
    Baal sits at his table
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    BAAL
picks up the bottle. The following speech to be delivered with pauses
: I’ve covered the paper with red summer for four days now: wild, pale, greedy; and fought the bottle. There have been defeats, but the bodies on the wall are beginning to retreat into the dark, into the Egyptian night. I nail them to the wall, but I must stop drinking.
He murmurs
: This white liquor is my rod and staff. It reflects my paper and has remained untouched since the snow began to drip from the gutter. But now my hands are shaking. As if