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) (36 page)

Contradiction.

YOUNG EDWARD:

Help, Uncle Kent. Mortimer will wrong me.

KENT:

Hands off England’s royal blood!

ABBOT:

Would you really crown him in this bedlam?

MORTIMER:

So says the law.

RICE AP HOWELL:

So says your desire.

ABBOT:

Therefore I ask you by the law

In the presence of that man’s brother, son, wife:

Has King Edward resigned?

MORTIMER:

Aye.

ABBOT:

Your witness?

MORTIMER:

Robert Berkeley.

KENT:

Who is dead.

RICE AP HOWELL:

Berkeley is dead?

KENT:

These seven days.

RICE AP HOWELL:

Said you not that you had news this very day

He was on his way to London?

ABBOT:

Since your witness, Lord Mortimer, is out this world

Be it these two or seven days

With your consent ride I to Berkeley

To bring a little light.

KENT:

At Berkeley you’ll find blood upon the stones

But not the king.

RICE AP HOWELL:

Did you not say the king was at Berkeley?

MORTIMER:

And so I thought. Times pressed us hard.

In Wales the rebels gave us scarce a moment’s

Breath. With greater leisure and

More opportune time much will be

Made clear.

ABBOT:

Thus is your first witness, Berkeley, dead

And your second, Edward, disappeared.

MORTIMER:

If I must fish through all the isle

With nets I shall

Uncover witnesses.

KENT:

First fish through your army, Mortimer.

I saw my brother among pikes and lances

Driven down the highway by a rout.

ABBOT:

Spoke your brother to you?

KENT:

His mouth

Was gagged. What think you, Archbishop

His lips had testified an they were able?

MORTIMER:

Wilt thou pretend that he has not resigned?

Strike off his head! He shall have martial law.

EDWARD:

My lord, he is my uncle and shall live.

MORTIMER:

My lord, he is your enemy and shall die.

KENT:

Wouldst have my head then, butcher Mortimer?

Where is the head of Edward Longshanks’

Firstborn son?

ABBOT:

The man is not at Berkeley nor at Shrewsbury.

Where is the man today, Roger Mortimer?

EDWARD:

Mother, permit him not to kill our Uncle

Kent!

ANNE:

Ask me not, child, I dare not speak a word.

KENT:

Plead you with the murderer for the murdered?

Seek in the Thames, seek in the Scottish pines

The resting place of him who found no refuge

Because his teeth held back that yes

You so desired.

RICE AP HOWELL:

Where is the man today, Roger Mortimer?

ABBOT:

Has he resigned?

MORTIMER:

Call the Commons for the eleventh of February.

Before them with his own lips Edward will

Affirm his abdication. And I

Reaping mistrust where I sowed thanks

Prepared to bring my heart and every hour

Lived out in Westminster before God’s judgement

Relinquishing my office in your hands

O Queen, repairing to my books

Which I, my only true friends, bartered

Years ago for war’s discomforts and the world’s

Ill-will, I make charge before the Peers and you

Against this Kent, Edward Longshanks’ son

Of high treason, and I claim his head.

ABBOT:

You dare greatly.

MORTIMER:

It is for you, my lady.

ANNE:

Thus say I:

Be Edmund Kent banished from London.

KENT
to Mortimer
:

You shall pay this to the very dregs.

Gladly Kent leaves Westminster

Where he was born and where now

A bull keeps house with his ruttish wife.

ANNE:

You, Earl Mortimer, are still the Lord Protector.

ABBOT:

And I summon the Commons for the eleventh of February.

That by what Edward himself shall say

The naked truth be made as clear as day.

Exeunt all save Mortimer
.

MORTIMER
alone, brings in the two Gurneys
:

You’ll make your man say aye

To every question. Engrave it on him.

But the eleventh of February be in London.

You have full power. He must say aye.

AFTER FOURTEEN YEARS ABSENCE KING EDWARD SEES THE CITY OF LONDON ONCE AGAIN.

Edward. The two Gurneys
.

ELDER GURNEY:

My lord, look not so pensive.

EDWARD:

Since you are come, each time that night falls

You lead me over land. Where must I go now?

Go not so fast. I have not eaten and

I am all weak, my hair falls out, my

Senses swoon from my body’s stench.

YOUNGER GURNEY:

Are you in such good humour, sire?

EDWARD:

Aye.

ELDER GURNEY:

We come now to a great city.

Will it content you to see the Eel?

EDWARD:

Aye.

YOUNGER GURNEY:

Are those not willows there, sire?

EDWARD:

Aye.

ELDER GURNEY:

The Eel likes not men to visit him

Half washed. Here is channel water.

Sit down, I pray, that we may barber you.

EDWARD:

Not with puddle water!

YOUNGER GURNEY:

So you would have us barber you with

Puddle water?

They barber him with ditch water
.

ELDER GURNEY:

The nights are beginning to draw in.

YOUNGER GURNEY:

Tomorrow is the eleventh of February.

ELDER GURNEY:

Was it not a certain Gaveston

That brought you to this pass?

EDWARD:

Aye. This Gaveston I do remember well.

YOUNGER GURNEY:

Hold still!

ELDER GURNEY:

Will you do everything we bid you?

EDWARD:

Aye. Is this London?

YOUNGER GURNEY:

This is the City of London, sire.

ELEVENTH OF FEBRUARY, 1326.

Soldiers and crowd before Westminster
.

FIRST
: The eleventh of February will count among the most important days in England’s history.

SECOND
: A man’s toes freeze on such a night as this.

THIRD
: And we have waited here for seven hours.

SECOND
: Is Ned already in there?

FIRST
: He must pass by to go to Parliament.

SECOND
: There’s a light again up there in Westminster.

THIRD
: Will the Eel bring him round?

FIRST
: I’ll lay a silver shilling on the Eel.

SECOND
: And I two shillings on Ned.

FIRST
: What’s your name?

SECOND
: Smith. And yours?

FIRST
: Baldock.

THIRD
: It’ll snow for sure about morning.

Edward, blindfold, the two Gurneys
.

ELDER GURNEY:

Are you content to be at last at the Eel’s?

EDWARD:

Aye. Where is the Eel?

YOUNGER GURNEY:

That you’ll soon see.

Exeunt the two Gurneys
.

Enter Mortimer
.

MORTIMER:

As London’s sweaty market has so forced matters

That my head for these few minutes almost hangs

Upon a yea or nay from this man’s humbled lips

So from him in his weakened state will I

Rip out this yea like a tooth.

Takes off Edward’s blindfold
.

EDWARD:

Is this Westminster and are you the Eel?

MORTIMER:

So men call me. It is a harmless beast.

You are weary; you shall eat

Drink, bathe perhaps. Would you like that?

EDWARD:

Aye.

MORTIMER:

You shall find yourself a friend.

Edward looks at him
.

You shall be taken to England’s Parliament.

There before the Peers you’ll testify

You have resigned.

EDWARD:

Draw nearer, Mortimer.

We give you leave to sit. But for our

Broken health be brief

In your petition.

MORTIMER
to himself
:

He is hard. Antaeus-like

He draws strength from Westminster’s soil.

Aloud
:

Brevity’s the salt in watery soup. I

Have come for your reply if you’ll

Resign in favour of your son Edward.

EDWARD:

Thirteen years away from Westminster

After long campaigns, the thorny exercise

Of command, the flesh’s needs have led me to

A commonplace concern with the welfare and

Decline of this my body.

MORTIMER:

I understand you.

Nightly wanderings, human disenchantment

Give pause for thought. And do you

After all this weariness of which you speak

And which you’ve borne so patiently, with such

Broken health, still intend now

To continue office?

EDWARD:

That is not in our plan.

MORTIMER:

Will you consent?

EDWARD:

That is not in our plan. The substance

Of these last days starts to clear. Edward, whose

Fall approaches, inexorable yet

Not fearful, knows himself. Not wishing much

To die he savours the usefulness of

Withering destruction. Edward, who no more

Poor Edward is, thinks death but little price

For such pleasure in his murderer. So then

When it is time, Mortimer, come yourself.

MORTIMER:

I see you grossly wrapped up in yourself

Whiles I, no longer sullied by a taste

For power, bear on my shoulders

This island that one workday word

Upon your lips can save from civil war.

Blunt perhaps in feelings, yet knowing much

No doubt not kingly, yet just perhaps

Not even that if you will, but yet

The rough stammering mouth of poor England

I ask you and I pray you:

Resign.

EDWARD:

Approach us not with such a mean request!

And yet at this hour when my body

Purifies I yearn to feel

Your hands about my throat.

MORTIMER:

You fight well. As one well versed in rhetoric

Whom men call the Eel, and valuing

Your taste, none the less I ask you

In this sober matter, at this night hour

For a brief answer.

Edward is silent
.

Do not stop your ears! Lest the weight

Of human tongues, a moment’s whim

And at the last misunderstanding, plunge

England in the ocean, speak now!

Edward is silent
.

Will you resign before the Commons at noon

Today?

Edward is silent
.

MORTIMER:

Will you not resign? You

Refuse?

EDWARD:

Though Edward must in swiftest time

Bring to a close more tangled matters

Than you, O busy Mortimer, can know

Yet while he’s in this world he takes good care

For all that

Not to meddle arrogantly

In your affairs that from a growing

Distance seem to him most

Murky.

Therefore your question has no yea or nay.

Stitched up, his lips will nothing say.

MORTIMER
alone
:

So long as he draws breath it can come to light.

Since not rough winds could snatch his foolish

Mantle from him, nor the warm sun draw it

Off, let it go rot

With him.

A scrap of paper cunningly prepared

Odourless, proving nothing, shall this

Chance resolve.

Since he gives my question neither yea or nay

I shall give an answer in like kind.

‘Eduardum occidere nolite timere bonum est.’

I leave out the comma. Then can it read:

‘Kill not the king, ’tis good to fear the worst’

Or depending on their state of innocence

Or whether they have dined or fasted:

‘Fear not to kill the king, ’tis good he die.’

Unpointed as it is thus shall it go.

Now is England

Under us, above us God, who’s very old.

My sole witness I take before the Peers.