Bertolt Brecht: Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder 7
THE DELEGATE in an effort to get their attention: Let’s draw up an agreed statement, comrades.
AN OLD PEASANT standing: It’s too soon for that, I’m against it; we haven’t thrashed things out; I object on scientific grounds.
WOMAN’S VOICE from the right: Not thrashed it out? We’ve been arguing ten hours.
THE OLD PEASANT: And what about it, Tamara Oboladze? We’ve still got four hours left.
A SOLDIER: Correct. I’m surprised at you, Tamara. Who’s going to get up from table when there’s still a quarter of a calf left in the dish? Who’s going to be satisfied with ten hours of argument if he can have fourteen?
A GIRL: We’ve done Cain and Abel, but nobody’s even mentioned Adam and Eve yet. Laughter.
THE DELEGATE: Comrades, my head’s in a whirl. Groaning: All this elaborate business about scientifically based goat breeding, all those examples to back it, all those subtle allusions, and then great masses of goat’s cheese and endless jugs of wine to top it off! I suggest we close the discussion, comrades.
A TRACTOR DRIVER decisively: Even the best things must come to an end. Hands up those who want the discussion closed! The majority raise their hands.
THE TRACTOR DRIVER: The closure’s carried. Now for the statement!
THE DELEGATE: The point at issue then he begins writing in his notebook is a difference between two collective farms, the Rosa Luxemburg and Galinsk, concerning a valley which lies between them and is not much good for grazing. It belongs to the Rosa Luxemburg collective addressing those stage left of him and is being claimed by the Galinsk collective, to those stage right of him, that’s you people.
THE OLD MAN: Put down that we have to have the valley for raising our goats, just like we have to have other valleys, and it’s always belonged to our village. Applause left.
A PEASANT RIGHT: What d’you mean, ‘always’? Nothing’s ‘always’ belonged to anybody. You haven’t even always belonged to yourself. Twenty-five years ago, Chachava, you still belonged to the Grand Duke. Applause left.
THE DELEGATE: Why don’t we say the valley belongs to you now?
THE PEASANT RIGHT: And when you say you have to have it for your goats, better put in that you’ve plenty more pasture land not more than half an hour from there.
A WOMAN LEFT: Put this down. If goats are driven half an hour every day they give less milk.
THE DELEGATE: Please don’t let’s go through all that again. You could have government aid to build stables on the spot.
THE OLD MAN LEFT: I’d like to ask you addressing the Peasant Right a small personal question. Did you or did you not enjoy our goat’s-milk cheese? On his not immediately replying: Did you or did you not enjoy those four or five pounds you were tucking away? I’d like an answer, if you don’t mind.
THE PEASANT RIGHT: The answer’s yes. So what?
THE OLD MAN triumphantly: I wonder if the comrade knows why he enjoyed our goat’s-milk cheese? Pause for effect. Because our goats enjoyed the grass in that particular valley. Why isn’t cheese just any old cheese, eh? Because grass isn’t just any old grass. To the Delegate: Put that in your book.
Laughter and applause right.
THE DELEGATE: Comrades, this isn’t getting us anywhere.
THE PEASANT RIGHT: Just write down why we think the valley ought to be made over to us. Mention our expert’s report on the irrigation scheme, then let the Planning Commission make up its mind.
THE DELEGATE: The comrade agronomist!
A girl stands up right.
NATASHA: Put me down as Nina Meladze, agronomist and engineer, comrade.
THE DELEGATE: Your native village of Galinsk sent you to technical school in Tiflis to study, is that right? She nods. And on getting back you worked out a project for the kolkhoz?
NATASHA: An irrigation scheme. We’ve a lake up in the mountains that can be dammed so as to irrigate 2000 versts of barren soil. Then our kolkhoz can plant vines and fruit trees there. It’s a project which can only be economic if the contested valley is included. The yield of the land will go up 6000 per cent. Applause right. It’s all worked out here, comrade. She hands him a file.
THE OLD MAN LEFT uneasily: Put in a word to say that our kolkhoz thinks of going in for horse breeding, will you?
THE DELEGATE: Gladly. I think I’ve got it all now. There’s just one more suggestion I’d like to make if I may, comrades. It would please me very much if I could add a footnote to my report saying that the two farms have come to an agreement after having heard all the arguments put forward this day, Sunday June 7th 1934.
General silence.
THE OLD MAN LEFT tentatively: The question is, who does the valley belong to? Why don’t we have another drink or two and talk it over? There are still some hours to go....
THE PEASANT RIGHT: All right, let’s take our time over the footnote, but do let’s close the discussion as decided, specially as it’s holding up our drinking eh, comrades?
Laughter.
VOICES: Yes, close the discussion. How about a bit of music?
A WOMAN: The idea was to round off this visit by the Planning Commission’s delegate by listening to the singer Arkadi Cheidze. We’ve been into it with him. While she is speaking a girl runs off to fetch the singer.
THE DELEGATE: That sounds interesting. Thank you very much, comrades.
THE OLD MAN LEFT: But this is off the point, comrades.
THE WOMAN RIGHT: Not really. He got in this morning, and promised he’d perform something which had a bearing on our discussion.
THE OLD MAN LEFT: That’d be different. They say he’s not at all bad.
THE PEASANT RIGHT to the Delegate: We had to telegraph to Tiflis three times to get him. It nearly fell through at the last minute because his chauffeur caught a cold.
THE WOMAN RIGHT: He knows 21,000 verses.
THE PEASANT RIGHT: It’s very difficult to book him. You people in the Planning Commission ought to see he comes north more often, comrade.
THE DELEGATE: I’m afraid we’re mainly involved with economics.
THE PEASANT RIGHT with a smile: You sort out the distribution of grapes and tractors; why not songs too? Anyhow here he is.
Led by the girl, the singer Arkadi Cheidze enters the circle, a thickset man with simple manners. He is accompanied by four musicians with their instruments. Applause greets the artists.
THE GIRL introducing them: This is the comrade delegate, Arkadi.
THE DELEGATE shakes his hand: It is a great honour to meet you. I heard about your songs way back as a schoolboy in Moscow. Are you going to give us one of the old legends?
THE SINGER: An extremely old one. It’s called ‘The Chalk Circle’ and comes from the Chinese. We perform it in a somewhat altered version of course. Comrades, it’s a great honour for me to entertain you at the end of your day of strenuous debates. We hope that you’ll find the old poet’s voice doesn’t sound too badly under the shadow of Soviet tractors. Mixing one’s wines may be a mistake, but old and new wisdom mix very well. I take it we’re all having something to eat before the performance begins? It’s a help, you know.
VOICES: Of course. Everyone into the club.
As they disperse the Delegate turns to the girl.
THE DELEGATE: I hope it won’t finish too late. I have to go home tonight, comrade.
THE GIRL to the Singer: How long will it take, Arkadi? The comrade delegate has got to get back to Tiflis tonight.
THE SINGER offhandedly: A matter of hours.
THE GIRL very confidentially: Couldn’t you make it shorter?
THE SINGER seriously: No.
VOICE: When you’ve finished eating, Arkadi Cheidze will give his performance out here on the square.
All go off to eat.
[From Werner Hecht (ed.): Materialien zu Brechts ‘Der kaukasische Kreidekreis’. Suhrkamp-Verlag, Frankfurt, 1966. This comes from the first script of the play, which was finished by June 1944. The inconsistency in the girl agronomist’s name (whic
h is Kato in the final version) is due to its being Georgianized from Natasha Borodin in course of many similar amendments to this script. It may be relevant to both date and setting of this Prologue that Brecht saw something of the writer O. M. Graf during 1944 in New York. Graf had visited the Caucasus with Tretiakoff and others in 1934.]
Appendix: The Duchess of Malfi
Introductory Note
Nearly every aspect of Brecht’s adaptation of John Webster’s Duchess of Malfi—the text, the collaborators’ shares, the dates of composition and revision, even the spelling of the title itself—offers puzzles and confusions almost impossible of certain solution.
Both the origin of the project to adapt the play and the process of that adaptation helped to ensure that the result would be neither a full-scale reworking (of the order of Edward II or Coriolanus) nor a purely Brechtian enterprise. Elisabeth Bergner, the actress, and her husband, the producer Paul Czinner, suggested the play as suitable material for Brecht’s attention and Miss Bergner’s talents. Around April or May 1943, work on the project began in New York. H. R. Hays, Brecht’s early translator, also worked on the adaptation at this time. From this period dates The Duchess of Malfy … An Adaptation for the Modern Stage copyrighted 26 June 1943, by Brecht and Hays, and a variety of drafts in the Brecht Archive in Berlin. Many sheets from this copyrighted version became the basis for Brecht’s further work. The text we print here represents the final joint work of Brecht and Hays on this copyrighted text.
In December 1943, Brecht invited W. H. Auden to join the effort, and shortly thereafter Hays withdrew. Bergner and Czinner seem to have suggested about this time that an effort be made to incorporate material from Webster’s other tragedy, The White Devil, into the new adaptation, and some subsequent texts, including the one printed below, use scenes and lines from this play (see the editorial notes to Act one, scene 2 and Act two, scenes 3 and 5). The Duchess appears in Brecht’s journal as a finished work on 21 July 1943, possibly a reference to the Brecht–Hays copyrighted version or to the text printed below. Brecht continued to work on it, however, for another journal entry covering his next New York visit (November 1943 to March 1944) describes it as ‘not completely finished’, while as late as June–July 1945 it is only described as finished ‘in the rough’.
Although Brecht continued to write, Auden’s name alone appears on a text, copyrighted 24 October 1945, which is largely reworked Webster with an excellently concise first act (apparently Auden’s, work but following Webster’s text closely). Brecht reappears with Auden in a version copyrighted on 4 April 1946, and continued his association with the project at least through the trial performances in Providence, Rhode Island (20 September 1946), in Boston (week of 23 September), in Hartford, Connecticut (30 September and 1 October), in New Haven, Connecticut (2-4 October) and in Princeton, New Jersey (7-8 October). Although the programmes and advertisements for the trial productions mention Brecht along with Auden, Brecht’s name appears nowhere in the New York programme or in the generally condemnatory reviews. The final Broadway version had returned to Webster’s original with some revisions and modernization; it even included the Julia subplot which had been excised from all the versions subsequent to the one printed here (see editorial note to Act two, scene 4).
It is not easy to make a precise statement of Brecht’s practical contribution to adapting the Duchess. Certainly, he made important decisions about restructuring the play and rearranging large units of Webster’s original. These decisions led him to write new scenes, such as the battlefield scene (2, 1) and the Cardinal’s murder (2, 7), and to rewrite the play’s conclusion. Brecht made many smaller and more detailed contributions as well. He understood Webster’s English well enough to rearrange the play without having always to pass through a German version first. For example, having decided to increase the economic motive for Ferdinand’s murder of his sister, Brecht adds (in English) some lines from Webster’s IV.ii to his own 1, 2. For longer passages, sometimes sandwiched between pieces of Webster or of translated Brecht, he often used German. In some versions of 2, 6, for instance, the Duchess’ reading of Ferdinand’s letter appears in German in the text with two marginal translations, one quite literal and another, a replacement, more fluent and in near-blank verse. At another point, opposite an English speech near the end of the echo scene, appears the note, ’Brecht’s rough translation’ (see the editorial notes on 3, 1), suggesting that Brecht may have occasionally translated his own German. In one of the drafts for Ferdinand’s concluding speech to 3, 2 (see the notes), some of the English spellings suggest Brecht’s mental translation from German cognates or his use of similar sounds. H. R. Hays also testifies to Brecht’s ability to read and write English, when he wished. Thus, while it might be accurate to say that Brecht’s chief contribution lies in his wholly original scenes, the rearrangement of Webster’s original, and some very clear-sighted choices of omissions and new emphases, it must be added that he often dipped into the minutiae of the play. He had the ability and the interest to work over single lines and short speeches.
Our text reproduces a copy in the possession of H. R. Hays; obvious typographical errors and misspellings have been silently corrected. Brecht Archive sources for material in the editorial notes are cited in the appropriate places.
(The editor of this text gratefully acknowledges the help of Lee Bliss, Edward Mendelson, and the New York Public Library Theatre Collection, Lincoln Center, and the financial assistance of the University of California Research Committee.)
A Note on The Duchess
by H. R. Hays
Early in 1943 Brecht came to New York and broached the idea of the Duchess of Malfi to me as a vehicle for Elisabeth Bergner, who was currently playing on Broadway in a whodunit. Brecht and I were both fond of the Webster piece and both felt that it sprawled too much for a successful production. The idea was to eliminate the anticlimactic series of deaths at the end, tighten up the script, and emphasize the implicit incest motivation of the duke. I remember that Bergner felt like discussing the project only after her performances and, in consequence, a series of midnight meetings resulted in a contract to prepare the play. We began working in April 1943. I did all of the writing, in the style of Webster, though Brecht and I discussed the scenes to be eliminated or added, and the content of scenes, and he sometimes contributed images. Brecht was very much at home in English literature and could speak English quite well (when he wasn’t facing a congressional committee).
I remember that the death scene of the duchess produced a crisis. Brecht told me that Bergner had flopped in Camille and, in consequence, was frightened of the duchess’s recumbent demise. Since some of Webster’s finest writing is in the scene, Brecht suggested that we introduce the notion that if she could be kept on her feet she might be able to work off the numbing effect of the poison. Thus we were able to keep the lines in and pacify Bergner. Brecht was always practical.
We finished the script and Brecht, Bergner, and her husband-producer, Paul Czinner, disappeared in the direction of Hollywood. Brecht, I suppose, kept in touch with them, for in a letter of June 1943 he spoke of having shown the script to Eisler, who was ready to begin on the music as soon as Czinner gave him a contract.
At any rate, late in 1943 the Czinners and Brecht were all back in New York. We had a meeting in my agent’s office, at which Mr Czinner announced that what the project needed was ‘a British poet’. I hit the roof and told them to take my name off the script. Needless to say, the poet was Auden, whose name they hoped would be success insurance. Brecht did not at first withdraw, but later, when he saw what was happening, he too removed his name from the script. I think about the only one of our scenes left in the script, when the production went on, was the excommunication scene. The Auden version lasted about a week on Broadway and most of the critics found Bergner inadequate.
[Part of an essay originally written for inclusion in the volume of Brecht Poems 1913-1956. For the 1925 production of Dumas’ Camille
at the Deutsches Theater, with Bergner in the title part, Brecht was called in to rewrite the fifth act, where she dies. According to the director, Bernhard Reich, the script has been lost.]
The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster
An adaptation for the modern stage by Bertolt Brecht and H. R. Hays
Edited with notes by A. R. Braunmuller
CHARACTERS
in order of appearance
ANTONIO BOLOGNA
DELIO
FERDINAND, DUKE OF CALABRIA
BOSOLA
CASTRUCHIO
THE CARDINAL OF ANCONA
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI
CARIOLA
OLD LADY
NEGRO PAGE
THE DUCHESS’ TWO SONS
A MONK
A FLUTE PLAYER
A PHYSICIAN
A PRIEST
COUNT MALATESTA
COURTIERS • GENTLEMEN • LADIES • OFFICERS • PILGRIMS • MURDERERS • ATTENDANTS • SERVANTS • WAITING WOMEN
ACT ONE
Scene 1
Presence chamber in the palace of the Duchess of Malfi Delio and Antonio are on.
ANTONIO
In these unruly times you are welcome, Cousin Delio.
I fear my letter drew you rudely
Out of sweet France. How did you like it there?
DELIO
’Tis still a land of sunshine. You will spend
In a fortnight what you may scarcely win there
In a twelve month. The French are exceeding skilful
In the arts, not those of love alone
But likewise martial stratagem. In Paris
I have studied their new fashion of gunnery.
ANTONIO
New come from Paris, how doth Malfi please you?
DELIO
So well that I am sorry I shall straightway
Be leaving it. I thank you, dear Antonio,