Ubu Plays, The (8 page)

PA UBU. Yes, do you hear that, Heads? Hurry up. Hurry up, both of you! Put the beast on a spit and roast it quick. I’m hungry, you know.

HEADS. Ah! that’s the last straw! You either share the work or you get nothing to eat; understand, you fat pig?

PA UBU. Oh well, it’s all the same to me. I’d just as soon eat it raw, as a matter of fact; it’s your stomachs that will suffer. In any case, I’m sleepy.

TAILS. He’s hopeless, Heads! Let’s get dinner ready by ourselves. He won’t have any, that’s all. If we feel generous we might throw him a few bones.

HEADS. Agreed. Ah, the fire’s catching!

PA UBU. Oh, that’s nice, it’s getting warm now. But I see Russians everywhere. God Almighty, what a rout! Aah!

He falls asleep.

TAILS. I wonder if Renski was telling the truth when he said that Ma Ubu really was dethroned. It wouldn’t surprise me at all.

HEADS. Let’s finish cooking the meal.

TAILS. No, we have more important things to do. I think we should find out whether these rumours are true or not.

HEADS. You’re right. Should we desert Pa Ubu or stay with him?

TAILS. Let’s sleep on it. We can decide what to do tomorrow morning.

HEADS. No, let’s slip away now, under cover of darkness.

TAILS. Let’s go, then.

They leave.

PA UBU
(talking in his sleep).
Hey, mister Russian dragoon, Sir, don’t shoot in this direction, there’s someone here. Ah! there’s M‘Nure, he’s got a nasty look about him, just like a bear. And there’s Boggerlas coming after me! The bear, the bear! Ah, it’s down! What a tough monster, great God! No, I won’t lend a hand. Go away, Boggerlas! Do you hear me, you lout? Here’s Renski now, and the Tsar! Oh! they’re going to hit me. Ugh, there’s madam my female! Where did you get all that gold ? You’ve stolen my gold, you slut, you’ve been scrabbling around in my tomb which is in Warsaw Cathedral, not far from the Moon. I’ve been dead a long time, yes, it’s Boggerlas who killed me and I’m buried at Warsaw by the side of Ladislas the Great, and also at Cracow by the side of Jan Sigismund, and also at Thorn in the casemate with M’Nure! There it is again. Be off with you, accursed bear. You look just like M‘Nure. And you smell just like M’Nure. Do you hear me, beast of Satan? No, he can’t hear me, the Phynance-extortioners have perforated his nearoles. Debraining, killing off, perforation of nearoles, money grabbing and drinking oneself to death, that’s the life for a Phynance-extortioner, and the Master of Phynances revels in such joys.

He falls silent and sleeps.

It is night.
PA UBU
is
asleep. MA UBU
enters without seeing him. It is pitch dark.

MA UBU. Shelter at last! I’m alone here, which is fine as far as I’m concerned, but what a dreadful journey: crossing the whole of Poland in four days! Every possible misfortune struck me at the same moment. As soon as that great, fat oaf had clattered off on his nag I crept into the crypt to grab the treasure, but then everything went wrong. I just escaped being stoned to death by Boggerlas and his madmen. I lost my gallant Palcontent Gyron who was so enamoured of my charms that he swooned with delight every time he saw me and even, I’ve been told, every time he didn’t see me - and there can be no higher love than that. Poor boy, he would have let himself be cut in half for my sake, and the proof is that Boggerlas cut him in quarters. Biff, bam, boom! Ooh, I thought it was all up with me. Then I fled for my life with the bloodthirsty mob hard on my heels. I managed to get out of the palace and reach the Vistula, but all the bridges were guarded. I swam across the river, hoping to shake off my pursuers. The entire nobility rallied and joined in the chase. I nearly breathed my last a thousand times, half smothered by the surrounding Poles all screaming for my blood. Finally, I escaped their clutches, and after four days of trudging through the snows of what was once my kingdom have at last reached refuge here. I’ve had nothing to eat or drink these past four days, and Boggerlas breathing down my neck the whole time. Now here I am, safe at last. Ah! I’m dead with exhaustion and hunger. But I’d give a lot to know what became of my big fat buffoon, I mean to say my esteemed spouse. Lord, how I’ve skinned him, and relieved him of his rix-dollars! I’ve certainly rolled him plenty! And his phynance charger that was dying of hunger - it didn’t get oats to munch very often, poor beast! It was fun while it lasted, but alas, I had to leave my treasure behind in Warsaw, where it’s up for grabs.

PA UBU
(beginning to wake up).
Catch Ma Ubu, chop off her nears!

MA UBU. My God, where am I? I’m losing my mind. But, no, heavens above, for -

Thanks be to God, by my side I behold
The sleeping form of Sir Ubu the Bold.

Let’s play it cool. Well, you fat oaf, have you slept well?

PA UBU. No, very badly! Oof, that bear was tough! Battle to the death between the voracious and the coriaceous, but the voracious completely ate up and devoured the coriaceous, as you will see when it gets light. Do you hear me, brave Palcontents ?

MA UBU. What’s he babbling about? He’s even stupider than when he left. Who’s he having a go at?

PA UBU. Tails, Heads, answer me, pschittbag! Where are you? Oh, I’m scared. But somebody spoke, who was it? Not the bear, I hope. Pschitt! Where are my matches? I must have lost them during the battle.

MA UBU. Let’s take advantage of the situation and the darkness. Let’s pretend to be a supernatural apparition and make him promise to forgive our peculations.

PA UBU. But by St Anthony, someone’s speaking! By God’s third leg, I’ll be hanged if someone isn’t speaking.

MA UBU
(in a great hollow voice).
Yes, Mister Ubu, someone is indeed speaking, and with the tongue of the archangel’s trumpet that shall summon the dead from their graves to meet their judgement! Listen to that terrible voice. It is the voice of the archangel Gabriel who is incapable of giving anything but good advice.

PA UBU. He can stuff his advice.

MA UBU. Don’t interrupt or I shall fall silent and you’ll find your bumboozle’s on the hot seat!

PA UBU. Ah! by my strumpot! I’ll keep quiet, I won’t breathe a word. Pray continue, Mrs Apparition.

MA UBU. We were saying, Mister Ubu, that you were a fat oaf.

PA UBU. Hmm! Fat, yes, I grant you that.

MA UBU. Shut up, goddammit!

PA UBU. Hey! Angels aren’t supposed to swear!

MA UBU
(aside).
Pschitt!
(Continuing.)
You are married, Mister Ubu?

PA UBU. Too true. To a vile hag.

MA UBU. You mean, to a charming lady.

PA UBU. An old horror. She sprouts claws all over, it’s impossible to get one’s hand up her anywhere.

MA UBU. You should give her a hand up kindly and gently, honest Mister Ubu, and were you to do so you would see that she was just as appealing as Aphrodite.

PA UBU. Who did you say wears an appalling frayed nightie?

MA UBU. You are not listening, Mister Ubu. Lend us a more attentive ear.
(Aside.)
But we must hurry, for dawn is breaking. Mister Ubu, your wife is a delightful and adorable person, who hasn’t a single defect.

PA UBU. On the contrary, she’s got the lot.

MA UBU. Silence, Sir! Your wife has never been unfaithful to you!

PA UBU. Only because the old hag’s so ugly that no man in his right mind would ever give her a chance of being unfaithful!

MA UBU. She doesn’t drink!

PA UBU. Not since I kept the cellar door locked. Before that, she was plastered by seven in the morning and perfumed with the scent of brandy. Now that she can afford to perfume herself with heliotrope she doesn’t smell any worse. One stink’s as good as another, as far as I’m concerned. But now I have to get plastered all on my own.

MA UBU. Silly idiot! Your wife doesn’t steal your bags of gold.

PA UBU. Come off it!

MA UBU. She doesn’t pocket a single penny!

PA UBU. As witness our noble and unfortunate phynance charger who, having been starved for three months, had to go through the entire campaign being led by the reins across the Ukraine, until the poor beast finally died in harness.

MA UBU. All this is false. Your wife is an absolute saint, and you are a great monster.

PA UBU. All this is true. My wife’s a lazy slut and you’re a great booby!

MA UBU. Have a care, Mister Ubu.

PA UBU. You’re right - I was forgetting to whom I was speaking. I take it all back.

MA UBU. You killed King Wenceslas.

PA UBU. That wasn’t my fault, oh no, it was Ma Ubu who egged me on.

MA UBU. You had Boleslas and Ladislas assassinated.

PA UBU. Serve them right! They tried to hit me!

MA UBU. You not only broke your promise to M’Nure, you killed him as well.

PA UBU. I’d rather it was me than him that reigned in Lithuania. For the moment it’s neither of us. At least you can see it’s not me.

MA UBU. There’s only one way for you to gain redemption of your sins.

PA UBU. What’s that? I wouldn’t at all mind becoming a holy man, in fact I’d like to be a bishop and see my name in the calendar.

MA UBU. You must forgive Madam Ubu for having pocketed a little bit of your spare cash.

PA UBU. All right, I’ll tell you what! I’ll forgive her when she’s handed over all the loot, when she’s been soundly walloped, and when she’s brought my phynance charger back to life.

MA UBU. He’s got that damn horse on the brain. Oh, it’s beginning to get light. I’m lost!

PA UBU. Still, I’m glad to learn definitely that my dear wife has been swindling me. I have it now on the best authority.
Omnis a Deo scientia,
which means:
Omnis,
all; a Deo, wisdom;
scientia,
comes from God. Which explains the whole miraculous revelation. But Madam Apparition has fallen silent. What healing draught can I offer her to bring back her voice? For her conversation was most amusing. Why, it’s daybreak already. Ha, by heavens and by my phynance charger, it’s Ma Ubu!

MA UBU
(brazening it out).
That’s not true. I shall excommunicate you.

PA UBU. Carrion!

MA UBU. Oh, what blasphemy.

PA UBU. This is too much. I can see perfectly well that it’s you, you silly old bag. What the devil are you doing here?

MA UBU. Gyron is dead and the Poles were after me, so I thought I’d better get out while the going was good.

PA UBU. The Russians were after me, so
I
thought I’d better get out while the going was good. Ah well, they say that great minds think alike.

MA UBU. They can say that if they want, but my great mind thinks it’s just met a pea-brained idiot.

PA UBU. Oh, very well, and in a moment it’s going to meet a palmiped.

He hurls the
BEAR
at her.

MA UBU (
falling prostrate under the weight of the
BEAR).Great God! How horrible! I’m dying! I’m suffocating! It’s biting me! It’s swallowing me! It’s digesting me!

PA UBU. It’s dead, you freak! Oh, but maybe it isn’t after all. Lord, no, it’s not dead, let’s escape.
(Climbing up onto his rock again.) Pater noster qui es ...

MA UBU (
emerging from beneath the
BEAR).Now where’s he got to?

PA UBU. Oh Lord, there she is again! Am I going to be saddled with this stupid bitch for ever? Is that bear dead?

MA UBU. Saddle yourself, you donkey. Yes, it’s stiff already. How did it get here?

PA UBU
(confused).
I don’t know. Oh yes, I remember. It wanted to eat Heads and Tails and I killed it single-handed with one blow of my paternoster.

MA UBU. Heads, Tails, paternoster — what’s he going on about ? He’s off his rocker, the silly chump.

PA UBU. It’s the gospel truth, I’m telling you, you bumboozlofaced idiot.

MA UBU. Tell me all about your campaign, Captain Ubu.

PA UBU. No, no, it would take too long. All I know is that despite my incontestable valour, everyone defeated me.

MA UBU. What, even the Poles ?

PA UBU. They were all shouting ‘Long live Wenceslas and Boggerlas !’ I thought they were going to tear me to pieces. What madmen! And then they lynched Renski.

MA UBU. I couldn’t care less! You know that Boggerlas slaughtered the Palcontent Gyron ?

PA UBU. I couldn’t care less! And then they lynched poor Laski.

MA UBU. I couldn’t care less!

PA UBU. Oh, that’s quite enough from you. Come here, carrion, and kneel before your master.
(He seizes her and forces her to her knees.)
You are about to undergo the extreme penalty.

MA UBU. Ow, ow, ow, Mister Ubu!

PA UBU. Have you quite finished with your ow, ow, ows? Because now
I’m
going to begin: twisting of the nose, tearing out of the hair, penetration of the nearoles by the little wooden pick, extraction of the brain-matter by way of the heels, laceration of the posterior, partial or even total suppression of the spinal marrow (thus confirming the fact that the victim is a spineless creature), not to mention the puncturing of the swimming-bladder, and finally the grand new version of the decollation of St John the Baptist as specified in the most Holy Scriptures of both the Old and New Testaments, as edited, corrected and perfectioned by yours truly the here-present Master of Phynances! How does that suit you, puddinghead ?

He starts tearing her to pieces.

MA UBU. Mercy, mercy, Mister Ubu, Sir!

Loud noise at the entrance to the cave.

The same.
BOGGERLAS,
storming the cave with his
SOLDIERS.

BOGGERLAS. Forward, my friends! Long live Poland!

PA UBU. Hey there, just a minute, Mister Polack. Wait till I’m through with madam my worse half.

BOGGERLAS
(striking him).
Take that, coward, scavenger, scoundrel, infidel, Mussulman!