Ubu Plays, The (3 page)

PA UBU, MA UBU.

PA UBU. Pschitt!

MA UBU. Ooh what a nasty word. Pa Ubu, you’re a dirty old old man.

PA UBU. Watch out I don’t bash yer nut in, Ma Ubu!

MA UBU. It’s not me you should want to do in, Old Ubu. Oh, no! There’s someone else for the high jump.

PA UBU. By my green candle, I’m not with you.

MA UBU. How come, Old Ubu, you mean you’re content with your lot?

PA UBU. By my green candle, pschitt, Madam. Yes, by God, I’m perfectly satisfied. Who wouldn’t be? Captain of the Dragoons, aide de camp to King Wenceslas, decorated with the order of the Red Eagle of Poland, and ex-King of Aragon. You can’t go higher than that!

MA UBU. So what! After having been King of Aragon, you’re content to ride in reviews at the head of fifty bumpkins armed with billhooks when you could get your loaf measured for the crown of Poland ?

PA UBU. Huh? I don’t understand a word you’re saying, Mother.

MA UBU. How stupid can you get!

PA UBU. By my green candle, King Wenceslas is still alive, isn’t he ? And even if he does kick the bucket, hasn’t he masses of children ?

MA UBU. Why shouldn’t you finish off the whole bunch and put yourself in their place ?

PA UBU. Ha! Madam, now you have gone too far, and you shall very shortly be beaten up good and proper.

MA UBU. You poor slob, if I get beaten up who’ll patch the seat of your pants ?

PA UBU. So what! Haven’t I a bum like everyone else?

MA UBU. If I were you, I’d try to get that bum sitting on a throne. You could become enormously rich, eat as many bangers as you liked, and roll through the streets in a fine carriage.

PA UBU. If I were king, I’d get them to make me a great bonnet like the one I used to wear in Aragon, which those lousy Spaniards had the nerve to pinch off me.

MA UBU. And you could get yourself an umbrella and a guards officer’s greatcoat that would come down to your feet.

PA UBU. It is more than I can resist! Pschittabugger and buggerapschitt, if ever I come across him alone on a dark night, he’s for it.

MA UBU. Well done, Pa Ubu, now you’re talking like a man.

PA UBU. Oh no! Me - a captain of dragoons - brutally murder the King of Poland! I would rather die!

MA UBU
(aside).
Oh, pschittl
(Aloud.)
So you want to stay poor as a church mouse, Mister Ubu ?

PA UBU. God’s bones, yes, by my green candle, I’d rather be poor as the skinniest mouse than rich as the cruellest cat.

MA UBU. And your bonnet? And your umbrella? And your greatcoat ?

PA UBU. And then what, you old cow?

He
leaves, banging the door behind him.

MA UBU
(alone).
Pfartt, pschitt, what a stingy bastard, but pfartt, pschitt, I think I’ve got him shifting all the same. Thanks be to God and myself, in a week, perhaps, I may be Queen of Poland.

A room in Pa Ubu’s house, where a magnificent collation is set out.

PA UBU, MA UBU.

MA UBU. Well, our guests are pretty late.

PA UBU. Yes, by my green candle, I’m dying of hunger. You’re looking exceptionally ugly tonight, Madam, is it because we have company ?

MA UBU
(shrugging her shoulders).
Pschitt.

PA UBU
(seizing a roast chicken).
I’m quite hungry. I think I’ll get my teeth into this bird. Hmm, a chicken, I reckon, and not bad at all.

MA UBU. Stop it, you wretch! What are our guests going to eat ?

PA UBU. There’ll still be plenty for them. I shan’t touch another thing. Go and look out of the window, Ma Ubu, and see if our guests are arriving.

MA UBU
(going
over). I don’t see a soul.

Meanwhile,
PA UBU
gets his hands on a fillet of veal.

MA UBU. Ah, here comes Captain M’Nure and his merry men. Hey, Old Ubu, what are you eating ?

PA UBU. Nothing, nothing. Just a spot of veal.

MA UBU. Oh, my veal, my veal! The lout! He’s eaten the veal Help Help!

PA UBU. By my green candle, I’ll gouge your eyes out.

The door opens.

PA UBU, MA UBU, CAPTAIN MACNURE
and his

MERRY MEN.

MA UBU. Good day, gentlemen, we have been awaiting your arrival with impatience. Pray be seated.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. Good day, Madam. But where is Mister Ubu?

PA UBU. Here I am, here I am! By my green candle, dammit, I shouldn’t have thought I was so easy to miss.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. Good day, Mister Ubu. Sit ye down, my merry men.

They all sit down.

PA UBU. Ouch! A little more and I’d have had stove in my chair.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. Well, Mistress Ubu, what succulent dishes have you prepared for us today ?

MA UBU. Here’s the menu.

PA UBU. That’s right up my street.

MA UBU. Polish broth, spare ribs of Polish bison, veal, chicken and hound pie, parsons’ noses from the royal Polish turkeys, charlotte russe ...

PA UBU. That’s enough, I should think. Is there any more?

MA UBU. Ice-pudding, salad, fruit, cheese, boiled beef, Jerusalem fartichokes, cauliflower à la pschitt.

PA UBU. Hey, do you think I’m an oriental potentate, shelling out all that money ?

MA UBU. Pay no attention to him. He’s off his rocker.

PA UBU. You wait. I shall sharpen my teeth on your shanks.

MA UBU. Just eat up and shut up, Old Ubu! Here, try the Polish broth.

PA UBU. Urghh, what muck!

CAPTAIN MACNURE. You’re right. It hasn’t quite come off.

MA UBU. Ill-mannered louts, what do you want then?

PA UBU
(clapping his brow).
Ah ! I’ve got an idea. Back in a jiffy.

He goes out.

MA UBU. Gentlemen, let’s try the veal.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. Excellent. What there was of it.

MA UBU. Now for the parsons’ noses.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. Absolutely delicious. Hurrah for Ma Ubu !

ALL. Hurrah for Ma Ubu.

PA UBU
(returning).
And soon you’ll be yelling hurrah for Old Ubu.

He holds an unmentionable brush in his hand and hurls it at the gathering.

PA UBU. Try a taste of that.
(Several taste and collapse poisoned.)
Now pass me the spare ribs of Polish bison, Mother, and I’ll dish them out.

MA UBU. Here they are.

PA UBU. Get out everybody! I have something to say to you, Captain M’Nure.

THE REST. But we haven’t had our dinner!

PA UBU. Not had dinner ? Get out, I tell you. Not you, M’Nure.
(Nobody budges.)
You’re still here? By my green candle, I’ll do you all in with bison ribs.

He begins to throw them.

ALL. Ooh! Ow! Help, rescue! Let’s stick up for ourselves! Curses! He’s done for me!

PA UBU. Pschitt, pschitt and pschitt again. Get out, all of you. Do I make myself plain ?

ALL. Every man for himself! Rotten old Ubu! Mean, double-crossing skunk !

PA UBU. Ah, they’ve gone. Now I can relax again, but I’ve had a lousy meal. Come, M’Nure.

They leave with
MA UBU.

PA UBU, MA UBU, CAPTAIN MACNURE.

PA UBU. Well, captain, how did you enjoy your dinner?

CAPTAIN MACNURE. Very much, Sir, except for the pschitt.

PA UBU. Oh, I didn’t think the pschitt was too bad.

MA UBU. A little of what you fancy, they say.

PA UBU. Captain M’Nure, I’ve decided to create you Duke of Lithuania.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. But I thought you were completely broke, Mister Ubu ?

PA UBU. In a day or two, with your help, I shall be King of Poland.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. You will assassinate Wenceslas?

PA UBU. The bugger’s no fool. He’s guessed it.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. If it’s a question of killing Wenceslas, I’m with you. I am his deadly enemy, and I can answer for my men.

PA UBU
(throwing himself upon him to embrace him).
Oh, M’Nure, I love you dearly for that.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. Pooh, how you stink, man! Don’t you ever wash ?

PA UBU. Occasionally.

MA UBU. Never!

PA UBU. I’m going to tread on your toes.

MA UBU. Fat lump of pschittl

PA UBU. Right, M’Nure, that’s all for now. But by my green candle, I swear on the head of Madam Ubu to make you Duke of Lithuania.

MA UBU. But ...

PA UBU. Silence, my angel ...

They all go out.

PA UBU, MA UBU, A MESSENGER.

PA UBU. What do you want, Sir ? Piss off. You make me sick and tired.

MESSENGER. Sir, you are summoned immediately to the royal presence.

He goes out.

PA UBU. Oh pschitt God’s whiskers ! By my green candle, all is discovered. I’ll be beheaded. Woe is me!

MA UBU. What a feeble creature! And time’s getting short.

PA UBU. Ah! I’ve got an idea. I’ll say it was Ma Ubu and M’Nure.

MA UBU. You big P.U., you just try ...

PA UBU. I’d better get out while the going’s good.

He goes out.

MA UBU
(running after him).
Oh! Pa Ubu, Pa Ubu, I’ll give you some fine fat sausages.

She goes out.

PA UBU
(offstage).
Oh pschitt! You’re a fine fat sausage yourself.

The King’s Palace.

KING WENCESLAS,
surrounded by his
OFFICERS, MAC NURE
the king’s
SONS, BOLESLAS, LADISLAS and BOGGERLAS.

PA UBU
(entering).
Oh! you know, it wasn’t me, it was the old woman and M’Nure.

THE KING. What’s up with you, Old Ubu?

CAPTAIN MACNURE. He’s tight.

THE KING. Like me this morning. I was tight as two Poles.

PA UBU. Yes, I’m tight. It’s because I’ve drunk too much champagne.

THE KING. Master Ubu, I have resolved to reward you for your many services as Captain of Dragoons, and I therefore proclaim you Count of Sandomir.

PA UBU. O, Sire! I am speechless with gratitude.

THE KING. Tut, think nothing of it, Master Ubu. But be sure to be present tomorrow morning at our Grand Review.

PA UBU. I shall be there, Sire. Meanwhile, pray deign to accept this magnificently decorated kazoo.

He presents
THE KING
with a kazoo.

THE KING. You don’t expect me to start playing a kazoo at my age, surely ? Well, I’ll give it to young Boggerlas.

BOGGERLAS. What an old fool he is, this Ubu creature.

PA UBU. And now I shall fuck off.
(He falls, as he turns round.)
Oh ! ow ! Help, rescue! By my green candle, I’ve ruptured my gut and smashed my rattle-trap.

THE KING
(helping him
up). Old Ubu, are you hurt?

PA UBU. Yes, badly, and I’m certainly going to croak. What will happen to Madam Ubu ?

THE KING. We shall provide for her upkeep.

PA UBU. You are most kind and gracious, Sire.
(Aside, as he leaves.)
But you’ll be liquidated just the same, King Wenceslas.

Ubu’s House.

GYRON, HEADS, TAILS, PA UBU, MA UBU, CONSPIRATORS and SOLDIERS, CAPTAIN MACNURE.

PA UBU. Well, my good friends, it’s high time we planned our little conspiracy. Let each give his counsel. With your permission, we will begin with mine.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. Speak, Mister Ubu.

PA UBU. Very good, my friends. I’m of the opinion that we should simply poison the King by stuffing his lunch with arsenic. When he starts the browsing and scoffing, he’ll drop dead, and I shall be king.

ALL. Oo, you wicked old thing, you!

PA UBU. What, you don’t like that idea? All right then, let’s hear from M’Nure.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. My suggestion is that I fetch him a good wallop with my sword and cleave him from top to toe.

ALL. Ah yes ! that’s noble and gallant.

PA UBU. But supposing he gives you a few kicks ? I’ve just remembered: for his Grand Reviews, he wears iron boots that are jolly painful. If I had half a chance, I’d snitch on the lot of you. That way, I’d be rid of this whole beastly business, and probably pick up a reward into the bargain.

MA UBU. Oh, the traitor, the coward, the rotten, mean skunk!

ALL. Down with Old Ubu!

PA UBU. Hey, gentlemen, shut your traps unless you want me to turn you all in. Well, all right, then, I’ll take all the risks on your behalf. So, M’Nure, it’s agreed that your job is to split the king down the middle.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. Wouldn’t it be better for us all to jump on him at once, shouting and yelling ? That way, we’d have a better chance of winning over the troops.

PA UBU. Look, I’ll tell you what. I shall try to step on his toe, he’ll kick out at me, I’ll say ‘PSCHITT’ to him, and that will be the signal for you all to hurl yourselves on him.

MA UBU. Yes, and the moment he’s dead, you’ll take his crown and sceptre.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. And I and my men will go in pursuit of the royal family.

PA UBU. Yes, and keep a special look-out for young Boggerlas.

They go out.

PA UBU
runs after them and makes them come back.

Gentlemen, we have forgotten an indispensable ceremony. We must take an oath to quit ourselves like men.

CAPTAIN MACNURE. How can we? We haven’t got a priest.

PA UBU. My old woman will act as priest.

ALL. All right, so be it.

PA UBU. And so you all swear to kill the King good and proper ?

ALL. We swear it. Long live Old Ubu!

The King’s Palace.

WENCESLAS, QUEEN ROSAMUND, BOLESLAS, LADISLAS
and
BOGGERLAS.