Ubu Plays, The (5 page)

MA UBU. That sounds pretty good, but royalty’s even better.

PA UBU. Yes, you were right as usual, Ma Ubu.

MA UBU. We owe a great debt of gratitude to the Duke of Lithuania.

PA UBU. Who’s that?

MA UBU. Why, Captain M’Nure.

PA UBU. For heaven’s sake, woman, don’t even mention that slob to me. Now that I don’t need him any more, he can whistle for his dukedom, because he certainly won’t get it.

MA UBU. You’re making a big mistake, Old Ubu. He’ll turn against you.

PA UBU. I should worry! As far as I’m concerned, he and Boggerlas can go jump in a lake.

MA UBU. And do you think you’ve heard the last of Boggerlas?

PA UBU. Sword of phynance, obviously! What harm do you think he can do me, that little fourteen-year-old squirt ?

MA UBU. Just you mark my words, Pa Ubu. You should try to win over Boggerlas to you by your generosity.

PA UBU. More money to dish out? Not on your life! You’ve already made me pour at least two millions down the drain.

MA UBU. Have it your own way, Old Ubu. But I warn you, he’ll settle your hash.

PA UBU. Then you’ll find yourself in the same stewpot with me.

MA UBU. For the last time, I warn you. Young Boggerlas may very well carry the day. After all, he has justice on his side.

PA UBU. Oh, tripe! Isn’t injustice just as good as justice? Ah! you’re taking the piss out of me, Madam, I’m going to chop you into tiny pieces.

MA UBU
flees for her life, pursued by
PA UBU.

The Great Hall of the Palace.

PA UBU, MA UBU, OFFICERS and SOLDIERS, GYRON, HEADS, TAILS, NOBLES in
Chains,
FINANCIERS, JUDGES, REGISTRARS.

PA UBU. Bring out the chest for Nobles, and the boat-hook for Nobles, and the slasher for Nobles and the account book for Nobles, and then - bring in the Nobles.

The
NOBLES
are brutally shoved in.

MA UBU. For pity’s sake restrain yourself, Old Ubu.

PA UBU. My lords, I have the honour to inform you that as a gesture to the economic welfare of my kingdom, I have resolved to liquidate the entire nobility and confiscate their goods.

NOBLES. Horror of horrors! Soldiers and citizens, defend us.

PA UBU. Bring up the first Noble and pass me the boat-hook. Those who are condemned to death, I shall push through this trap door. They will fall down into the bleed-pig chambers, and will then proceed to the cash-room where they will be debrained. (To
the
NOBLE.) What’s your name, you slob ?

NOBLE. Count of Vitebsk.

PA UBU. What’s your income?

NOBLE. Three million rix-dollars.

PA UBU. Guilty.
(He grabs him with the hook and pushes him down the hole.)

MA UBU. What base brutality!

PA UBU. You, there, what’s your name? (The NOBLE
doesn’t answer.)
Go on - answer, you slob.

NOBLE. Grand Duke of Posen.

PA UBU. Excellent! Excellent! I couldn’t ask for a better. Down the hatch. Next one. What’s your name, ugly mug ?

NOBLE. Duke of Courland, and of the cities of Riga, Revel and . Mitau.

PA UBU. Very good indeed. Sure that’s the lot ?

NOBLE. That’s all.

PA UBU. Down the hatch, then. Number four, what’s your name?

NOBLE. Prince of Podolia.

PA UBU. Income?

NOBLE. I’m bankrupt.

PA UBU. Take that for disrespect.
(Hits him with the hook.)
Now get down that hatch. Your name, number five ?

NOBLE. Margrave of Thorn, Count Palatine of Polock.

PA UBU. That’s not much. Is that all you are?

NOBLE. It’s been good enough for me.

PA UBU. Well, it’s better than nothing. Down the hatch. What’s eating you, Ma Ubu ?

MA UBU. You’re too bloodthirsty, Pa Ubu.

PA UBU. Bah! I’m getting rich. Now I’ll have them read the list of what I’ve got. Registrar, read my list of my titles and possessions.

REGISTRAR. Count of Sandomir.

PA UBU. Begin with the princedoms, stupid bugger!

REGISTRAR. Princedom of Podolia, Grand Duchy of Posen, Duchy of Courland, County of Sandomir, County of Vitebsk, Palatinate of Polock, Margravate of Thorn.

PA UBU. Well, go on.

REGISTRAR. That’s the lot.

PA UBU. What do you mean, that’s the lot! Oh well, then, forward all the Nobles and, since I don’t propose to stop getting richer, I shall execute them all and confiscate their revenues. Come on, down the hatch with the whole lot. (They are stuffed down the hatch.) Hurry up, faster, faster, I’m going to make some laws next.

SEVERAL. That’ll be worth watching.

PA UBU. First of all, I shall reform the code of justice, then we will proceed to financial matters.

SEVERAL JUDGES. We are strongly opposed to any change.

PA UBU. Pschitt! Firstly, judges will no longer receive a salary.

JUDGES. And what shall we live on? We’re all poor men.

PA UBU. You can keep the fines you impose and the possessions of those you condemn to death.

FIRST JUDGE. It’s unthinkable.

SECOND JUDGE. Infamous.

THIRD JUDGE. Scandalous.

FOURTH JUDGE. Contemptible.

ALL. We refuse to judge under such conditions.

PA UBU. Down the hatch with the judges.
(They struggle in vain.)

MA UBU. Oh, what have you done, Pa Ubu? Who will administer justice now ?

PA UBU. Why, I will. You’ll see how well things will go.

MA UBU. Yes, it will be a right old mess.

PA UBU. Aw, shut your gob, clownish female. Gentlemen, we will proceed to financial matters.

FINANCIERS. There’s no need to change anything.

PA UBU. How come? I wish to change everything, I do. To begin with, I intend to pocket half the tax receipts.

FINANCIERS. What cheek!

PA UBU. Gentlemen, we shall establish a tax often percent on all property, another on industry, and a third of fifteen francs a head on all marriages and funerals.

FIRST FINANCIER. But that’s ridiculous, Pa Ubu.

SECOND FINANCIER. Quite absurd.

THIRD FINANCIER. Doesn’t make sense.

PA UBU. You’re making fun of me ? Down the hatch, all of you.
(The
FINANCIERS
are shoved in.)

MA UBU. Come, come, Lord Ubu, kings aren’t supposed to behave like that. You’re butchering the whole world.

PA UBU. So pschitt!

MA UBU. No more justice, no financial system!

PA UBU. Fear nothing, my sweet child, I’ll go from village to village myself and collect the taxes.

A Peasant’s House in the Environs of Warsaw.

Several
PEASANTS
are assembled.

A PEASANT
(entering).
Hey! did you hear the news ? The King is dead, and all the nobles as well; young Boggerlas has fled to the mountains with his mother. What’s more, Pa Ubu has seized the throne.

ANOTHER. Yes, and here’s something else. I’ve just come from Cracow, where I saw them carting off the bodies of more than three hundred nobles and five hundred magistrates that he’s had slaughtered, and it seems they’re going to double the taxes and that Pa Ubu is going to make the rounds in person to collect them.

ALL. Great God! What will become of us? Pa Ubu is a foul beast and they say that his whole family is equally repulsive.

A PEASANT. Hark! It sounds like someone’s knocking at the door.

A VOICE
(off).
Hornstrumpot! Open up, pschitt, in the names of St John, St Peter and St Nicolas ! Open up, by my cash-sword and my cash-horn, I’ve come to collect the taxes!

The door is smashed in.
UBU
enters, followed by an army of money-grubbers.

PA UBU. Which of you is the oldest? (A PEASANT
steps forward.)
What’s your name ?

PEASANT. Stanislas Leczinski.

PA UBU. Well then, hornstrumpot, listen carefully, or these gentlemen will extrude your nearoles. Hey, listen, will you!

STANISLAS. But Your Excellency hasn’t said anything yet.

PA UBU. What! I’ve been talking for an hour. Do you think I came here simply to amuse myself with the echo of my own voice ?

STANISLAS: No thought could be farther from my mind, Sire.

PA UBU. All right, then. I’ve come to tell you, order you, and inform you that you are to produce and display your ready cash immediately, or you’ll be massacred. Come on in, my lords of phynance, you sons of whores, wheel in the phynancial wheelbarrow.

The wheelbarrow is wheeled in.

STANISLAS. Sire, we are down on the register for only one hundred and fifty-two rix-dollars, which we’ve already paid over six weeks ago come Michaelmas.

PA UBU. That may well be so, but I’ve changed the government and I’ve had it announced in the official gazette that all the present taxes have to be paid twice over, and all those I may think up later on will have to be paid three times over. With this system, I’ll soon make a fortune: then I’ll kill everyone in the world, and go away.

PEASANTS. Mercy, Lord Ubu, have pity on us. We are poor, simple people.

PA UBU. I couldn’t care less. Pay up.

PEASANTS. But we can’t, we’ve already paid.

PA UBU. Fork out! Or I’ll give you the works good and proper: torture, twisting of the neck, and decapitation. Hornstrumpot, am I or am I not your King ?

ALL. Ho, in that case, to arms, fellows! Long live Boggerlas, by the grace of God King of Poland and Lithuania!

PA UBU. Advance, gentlemen of the Phynances, do your duty.

A fight takes place. The house is razed to the ground, and only old
STANISLAS
escapes and flees alone across the plain.
UBU
stays behind to scoop up the cash.

A casemate in the fortifications of Thorn.
MACNURE
in chains,
PA UBU.

PA UBU. Well, citizen, you’re in a fine pickle, aren’t you ? You wanted me to pay you what I owed you, and when I refused to you rebelled and plotted against me, and where did that land you? In jug! Hornboodle, the clever trick I played on you was so mean it should be right up your street.

MACNURE. Take care, treacherous Old Ubu. In the five days you’ve been King you’ve committed more crimes and murders than it would take to damn all the saints in Paradise. The blood of the King and the Nobles cries for vengeance, and those cries will be heard.

PA UBU. Ha, my fine friend, you’ve got a glib tongue, all right, and I don’t doubt that if you should escape you might make things difficult for me. But, to the best of my knowledge, the casemates of Thorn have never released from their clutches any of the fine fellows entrusted to their tender care. So, good night to you, and sleep tight if you can, though I should warn you that the rats here go through a very pretty routine at night.

He goes out. The
TURNKEYS
arrive and lock and bolt all the doors.

The Palace in Moscow.

THE TSAR ALEXIS
and his court,
MACNURE.

ALEXIS. So it was you, base soldier of fortune, who took part in the assassination of our cousin Wenceslas ?

MACNURE. Sire, grant me your royal pardon. I was dragged into the plot by Old Ubu, despite myself.

ALEXIS. Oh, what a bare-faced liar! Well, what do you want?

MACNURE. Old Ubu accused me falsely of conspiracy and had me thrown in gaol. I managed to escape and have been spurring my horse for five days and nights across the steppes to come and plead for your gracious mercy.

ALEXIS. What can you show me as practical proof of your loyalty ?

MACNURE. The sword I wielded as a soldier of fortune, and a detailed map of the fortified city of Thorn.

ALEXIS. I accept the sword as a symbol of your submission, but by St George, bum the map. I don’t intend to achieve my victory through treachery.

MACNURE. One of the sons of Wenceslas, young Boggerlas, is still alive. I would do anything in my power to help restore him to the throne.

ALEXIS. What was your rank in the Polish army?

MACNURE. I commanded the fifth regiment of Vilna dragoons and a company of mercenaries in the service of Captain Ubu.

ALEXIS. Good. I appoint you second lieutenant in the tenth Cossack regiment, and woe betide you if you betray me. If you fight well, you shall be rewarded.

MACNURE. Courage I have in plenty, Sire.

ALEXIS. Good. Remove yourself from my presence.

He
leaves.

Ubu’s council chamber.

PA UBU, MA UBU, PHYNANCIAL COUNSELLORS.

PA UBU. Gentlemen, I declare this meeting open. Try to keep your ears open and your mouths shut. First, we shall deal with finance, and then we shall discuss a little system I’ve thought up for bringing fine weather and keeping rain away. A COUNSELLOR. Splendid, Mister Ubu, Sir.

MA UBU. What a numbskull.

PA UBU. Madam of my pschitt, look out, I’m not going to stand any more of your nonsense. As I was about to say to you, gentlemen, our finances are in a fairly good state. A considerable number of our hirelings clutching well-filled stockings prowl the streets every morning and the sons of whores are doing fine. In all directions there is a vista of burning houses and the sight of our peoples groaning under the weight of our phynance.

SAME COUNSELLOR. And how are the new taxes going, Mister Ubu, sir ?

MA UBU. Not at all well. The tax on marriages has only produced eleven pence so far, even though Mister Ubu’s been chasing people all over the place to force them to marry.

PA UBU. Sword of phynance, horn of my strumpot, madam financieress, I have nearoles to speak with and you have a mouth to listen to me with.
(Bursts of laughter.)
No, no, that’s not what I meant to say! You’re always getting me mixed up, yes, it’s your fault I’m so stupid! But, by the horn of Ubu! ... (A MESSENGER
enters.)
Now what does this fellow want ? Get out, oaf, before I black both your eyes, cut your head off and make corkscrews out of your legs.