Brecht Collected Plays: 5: Life of Galileo; Mother Courage and Her Children (World Classics) (30 page)

MOTHER COURAGE
: Keep you hair on, cook’s only giving his personal opinion and you can’t deny your war was a flop.

THE CHAPLAIN
: You should not blaspheme against peace, Courage. You are a hyaena of the battlefield.

MOTHER COURAGE
: I’m what?

THE COOK
: If you’re going to insult this lady you’ll have to settle with me.

THE CHAPLAIN
: It’s not you I’m talking to. Your intentions are only too transparent.
To Courage:
But when I see you picking up peace betwixt your finger and your thumb like some dirty old snot-rag, then my humanity feels outraged; for then I see that you don’t want peace but war, because you profit from it; in which case you shouldn’t forget the ancient saying that whosoever sups with the devil needs a long spoon.

MOTHER COURAGE
: I got no use for war, and war ain’t got much use for me. But I’m not being called no hyaena, you and me’s through.

THE CHAPLAIN
: Then why grumble about peace when everybody’s breathing sighs of relief? Because of some old junk in your cart?

MOTHER COURAGE
: My goods ain’t old junk but what I lives by, and you too up to now.

THE CHAPLAIN
: Off war, in other words. Aha.

THE COOK
to the chaplain:
You’re old enough to know it’s always a mistake offering advice.
To Courage:
Way things are, your best bet’s to get rid of certain goods quick as you can before prices hit rock-bottom. Dress yourself and get moving, not a moment to lose.

MOTHER COURAGE
: That ain’t bad advice. I’ll do that, I guess.

THE CHAPLAIN
: Because cooky says it.

MOTHER COURAGE
: Why couldn’t you say it? He’s right, I’d best go off to market.
Goes inside the cart
.

THE COOK
: That’s one to me, padre. You got no presence of mind. What you should of said was: what, me offer advice, all I done was discuss politics. Better not take me on. Cock-fighting don’t suit that get-up.

THE CHAPLAIN
: If you don’t stop your gob I’ll murder you, get-up or no get-up.

THE COOK
pulling off his boots and unwrapping his foot-clothes:
Pity the war made such a godless shit of you, else you’d easily get another parsonage now it’s peacetime.
Cooks won’t be needed, there’s nowt to cook, but faith goes on just the same, nowt changed in that direction.

THE CHAPLAIN
: Mr Lamb, I’m asking you not to elbow me out. Since I came down in the world I’ve become a better person. I couldn’t preach to anyone now.
Enter Yvette Pottier in black, dressed up to the nines, carrying a cane. She is much older and fatter, and heavily powdered. She is followed by a manservant
.

YVETTE
: Hullo there, everybody. Is this Mother Courage’s establishment?

THE CHAPLAIN
: It is. And with whom have we the honour …?

YVETTE
: With the Countess Starhemberg, my good man. Where’s Courage?

THE CHAPLAIN
calls into the cart:
The Countess Starhemberg wishes to speak to you.

MOTHER COURAGE’S VOICE
: Just coming.

YVETTE
: It’s Yvette.

MOTHER COURAGE’S VOICE
: Oh, Yvette!

YVETTE
: Come to see how you are.
Sees the cook turn round aghast:
Pieter!

THE COOK
: Yvette!

YVETTE
: Well I never! How d’you come to be here?

THE COOK
: Got a lift.

THE CHAPLAIN
: You know each other then? Intimately?

YVETTE
: I should think so.
She looks the cook over
. Fat.

THE COOK
: Not all that skinny yourself.

YVETTE
: All the same I’m glad to see you, you shit. Gives me a chance to say what I think of you.

THE CHAPLAIN
: You say it, in full; but don’t start till Courage is out here.

MOTHER COURAGE
coming out with all kinds of goods:
Yvette!
They embrace
. But what are you in mourning for?

YVETTE
: Suits me, don’t it? My husband the colonel died a few years back.

MOTHER COURAGE
: That old fellow what nearly bought the cart?

YVETTE
: His elder brother.

MOTHER COURAGE
: Then you’re sitting pretty. Nice to find somebody what’s made it in this war.

YVETTE
: Up and down and up again, that’s the way it went.

MOTHER COURAGE
: I’m not hearing a word against colonels, they make a mint of money.

THE CHAPLAIN
: I would put my boots back on if I were you.
To Yvette:
You promised you would say what you think of the gentleman, your ladyship.

THE COOK
: Don’t kick up a stink here, Yvette.

MOTHER COURAGE
: Yvette, this is a friend of mine.

YVETTE
: That’s old Puffing Piet.

THE COOK
: Let’s drop the nicknames. I’m called Lamb.

MOTHER COURAGE
laughs:
Puffing Piet! Him as made all the women crazy! Here, I been looking after your pipe for you.

THE CHAPLAIN
: Smoking it too.

YVETTE
: What luck I can warn you against him. Worst of the lot, he was, rampaging along the whole Flanders coast-line. Got more girls in trouble than he has fingers.

THE COOK
: That’s all a long while ago. ‘Tain’t true anyhow.

YVETTE
: Stand up when a lady brings you into the conversation! How I loved this man! All the time he had a little dark girl with bandy legs, got her in trouble too of course.

THE COOK
: Got you into high society more like, far as I can see.

YVETTE
: Shut your trap, you pathetic remnant! Better watch out for him, though; fellows like that are still dangerous even when on their last legs.

MOTHER COURAGE
to Yvette:
Come along, got to get rid of my stuff afore prices start dropping. You might be able to put a word in for me at regiment, with your connections.
Calls into the cart:
Kattrin, church is off, I’m going to market instead. When Eilif turns up, one of you give him a drink.
Exit with Yvette
.

YVETTE
as she leaves:
Fancy a creature like that ever making me leave the straight and narrow path. Thank my lucky stars I managed to reach the top all the same. But I’ve cooked your goose, Puffing Piet, and that’s something that’ll be credited to me one day in the world to come.

THE CHAPLAIN
: I would like to take as a text for our little talk ‘The mills of God grind slowly’. Weren’t you complaining about my jokes?

THE COOK
: Dead out of luck, I am. It’s like this, you see: I thought I might get a hot meal. Here am I starving, and now they’ll be talking about me and she’ll get quite a wrong picture. I think I’ll clear out before she’s back.

THE CHAPLAIN
: I think so too.

THE COOK
: Padre, I’m fed up already with this bloody peace. Human race has to go through fire and sword cause it’s sinful from the cradle up. I wish I could be roasting a fat capon once again for the general, wherever he’s got to, in mustard sauce with a carrot or two.

THE CHAPLAIN
: Red cabbage. Red cabbage for a capon.

THE COOK
: You’re right, but carrots was what he had to have.

THE CHAPLAIN
: No sense of what’s fitting.

THE COOK
: Not that it stopped you guzzling your share.

THE CHAPLAIN
: With misgivings.

THE COOK
: Anyway you must admit those were the days.

THE CHAPLAIN
: I might admit it if pressed.

THE COOK
: Now you’ve called her a hyaena your days here are finished. What you staring at?

THE CHAPLAIN
: Eilif!
Eilif arrives, followed by soldiers with pikes. His hands are fettered. His face is chalky-white
. What’s wrong?

EILIF
: Where’s mother?

THE CHAPLAIN
: Gone into town.

EILIF
: I heard she was around. They’ve allowed me to come and see her.

THE COOK
to the soldiers:
What you doing with him?

A SOLDIER
: Something not nice.

THE CHAPLAIN
: What’s he been up to?

THE SOLDIER
: Broke into a peasant’s place. The wife’s dead.

THE CHAPLAIN
: How could you do a thing like that?

EILIF
: It’s what I did last time, ain’t it?

THE COOK
: Aye, but it’s peace now.

EILIF
: Shut up. All right if I sit down till she comes?

THE SOLDIER
: We’ve no time.

THE CHAPLAIN
: In wartime they recommended him for that, sat him at the general’s right hand. Dashing, it was, in those days. Any chance of a word with the provost-marshal?

THE SOLDIER
: Wouldn’t do no good. Taking some peasant’s cattle, what’s dashing about that?

THE COOK
: Dumb, I call it.

EILIF
: If I’d been dumb you’d of starved, clever bugger.

THE COOK
: But as you were clever you’re going to be shot.

THE CHAPLAIN
: We’d better fetch Kattrin out anyhow.

EILIF
: Let her be. Sooner have a glass of schnapps.

THE SOLDIER
: No time, come along.

THE CHAPLAIN
: And what shall we tell your mother?

EILIF
: Tell her it wasn’t any different, tell her it was the same thing. Or tell her nowt.
The soldiers propel him away
.

THE CHAPLAIN
: I’ll accompany you on your grievous journey.

EILIF
: Don’t need any bloody parsons.

THE CHAPLAIN
: Wait and see.
Follows him
.

THE COOK
calls after them:
I’ll have to tell her, she’ll want to see him.

THE CHAPLAIN
: I wouldn’t tell her anything. At most that he was here and will come again, maybe tomorrow. By then I’ll be back and can break it to her.
Hurries off.

The cook looks after him, shaking his head, then walks restlessly around. Finally he comes up to the cart
.

THE COOK
: Hoy! Don’t you want to come out? I can understand you hiding away from peace. Like to do the same myself. Remember me, I’m general’s cook? I was wondering if you’d a bit of something to eat while I wait for your mum. I don’t half feel like a bit of pork, or bread even, just to fill the time.
Peers inside
. Head under blanket.
Sound of gunfire off
.

MOTHER COURAGE
runs in, out of breath and with all her goods still:
Cooky, peacetime’s over. War’s been on again three days now. Heard news before selling me stuff, thank God. They’re having a shooting match with Lutherans in town. We must get cart away at once. Kattrin, pack up! What you in the dumps for? What’s wrong?

THE COOK
: Nowt.

MOTHER COURAGE
: Something is. I see it way you look.

THE COOK
: Cause war’s starting up again, I s’pose. Looks as if it’ll be tomorrow night before I get next hot food inside me.

MOTHER COURAGE
: You’re lying, cooky.

THE COOK
: Eilif was here. Had to leave almost at once, though.

MOTHER COURAGE
: Was he now? Then we’ll be seeing him on march. I’m joining our side this time. How’s he look?

THE COOK
: Same as usual.

MOTHER COURAGE
: Oh, he’ll never change. Take more than war to steal him from me. Clever, he is. You going to help me get packed?
Begins to pack up
. What’s his news? Still in general’s good books? Say anything about his deeds of valour?

THE COOK
glumly:
Repeated one of them, I’m told.

MOTHER COURAGE
: Tell it me later, we got to move off.
Kattrin appears
. Kattrin, peacetime’s finished now. We’re moving on.
To the cook:
How about you?

THE COOK
: Have to join up again.

MOTHER COURAGE
: Why don’t you … Where’s padre?

THE COOK
: Went into town with Eilif.

MOTHER COURAGE
: Then you come along with us a way, Lamb. Need somebody to help me.

THE COOK
: That business with Yvette, you know …

MOTHER COURAGE
: Done you no harm in my eyes. Opposite. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, they say. You coming along?

THE COOK
: I won’t say no.

MOTHER COURAGE
: The Twelfth moved off already. Take the shaft. Here’s a bit of bread. We must get round behind to Lutherans. Might even be seeing Eilif tonight. He’s my favourite one. Short peace, wasn’t it? Now we’re off again.

She sings as the cook and Kattrin harness themselves up:

From Ulm to Metz, from Metz to Munich

Courage will see the war gets fed.

The war will show a well-filled tunic

Given its daily shot of lead.

But lead alone can hardly nourish

It must have soldiers to subsist.

It’s you it needs to make it flourish.