A lady fox loved a rooster one day.
‘Oh handsome, I must be your bride!’
The evening was pleasant, but then came the dawn
Came the dawn, came the dawn.
All of his feathers were spread far and wide.
PUNTILA: That’s meant for me. Songs like that cut me to the quick. Meanwhile Matti has put his arm around Fina and gone dancing off with her.
10
Nocturne
In the yard. Night. Puntila and Matti making water.
PUNTILA: I could never live in a town. Because I like going straight out and pissing in the open, under the stars, it’s the only way I get anything out of it. They say it’s primitive in the country, but I call it primitive when you do it into one of those porcelain affairs.
MATTI: I know. You want to keep the sporting element. Pause.
PUNTILA: I hate it when a fellow can’t get any fun out of life. That’s what I look for in my men, a sense of fun. When I see someone loafing around with a long face I want to get rid of him.
MATTI: I see your point. I can’t think why all those people on the estate look so wretched, all skin and bone and chalky white faces and twenty years older than they should be. I bet they’re doing it to tease you, else they’d have the decency not to show themselves around the yard when you got visitors.
PUNTILA: As if anyone went hungry at Puntila’s.
MATTI: Even if they did. They ought to be used to hunger in Finland by now. They won’t learn, they just aren’t prepared to try. 1918 polished off 80,000 of them, and that made it peaceful as paradise. Because there were so many less mouths to feed.
PUNTILA: That sort of thing shouldn’t be necessary.
11
Puntila Esquire and his man Matti climb Mount Hatelma
Library at Puntila’s. Groaning and with his head wrapped in a wet towel, Puntila is examining accounts. Laina the cook stands beside him with a basin and a second towel.
PUNTILA: If I hear of the Attache having any more of those half-hour phone calls to Helsinki I shall call the engagement off. I don’t so much mind it costing me a forest, but petty thieving makes me throw up. And what are all those blots over the figures in the egg book: am I to keep an eye on the hens too?
FINA, entering: His Reverence and the secretary of the milk co-operative would like a word with you.
PUNTILA: I don’t want to see them. My head’s bursting. I think I’m getting pneumonia. Show them in.
Enter the parson and the lawyer. Fina makes a rapid exit.
THE PARSON: Good morning, Mr Puntila, I trust that you had a restful night. I chanced to run into the secretary and we thought we might drop in to see how you were.
THE LAWYER: A night of misunderstandings, so to speak.
PUNTILA: I spoke to Eino on the telephone, if that’s what you mean; he has apologised and that’s that.
THE LAWYER: Puntila, my dear fellow, there is a further point which you should perhaps consider. In so far as the misunderstandings that occurred at Puntila Hall concern your family life and your relationship with members of the government they are wholly your own affair. Unfortunately that is not all.
PUNTILA: Don’t beat about the bush, Pekka. Any damage that’s been done, I’ll pay.
THE PARSON: Unhappily there are some kinds of damage which cannot be repaired by money, my dear Mr Puntila. To put it bluntly, we’ve come to you in the friendliest spirit to discuss the Surkkala problem.
PUNTILA: What about Surkkala?
THE PARSON: We understood you to say the other day that you wanted to dismiss the man because, as you yourself put it, he was an undesirable influence in the community.
PUNTILA: I said I was going to chuck him out.
THE PARSON: Yesterday was quarter-day, Mr Puntila, but Surkkala cannot have been given notice or I should not have seen his eldest daughter in church.
PUNTILA: What, not given notice? Laina! Surkkala wasn’t given notice.
LAINA: No.
PUNTILA: Why not?
EVA: You met him at the hiring fair and brought him back in the Studebaker and instead of giving him notice you gave him a ten-mark note.
PUNTILA: How dare he take ten marks from me when I’d told him more than once he’d have to be out by next quarter-day? Fina! Enter Fina. Get me Surkkala right away. Exit Fina. I’ve got this terrible headache.
THE LAWYER: Coffee.
PUNTILA: That’s it, Pekka, I must have been drunk. I’m always doing that sort of thing when I’ve had one too many. I could kick myself. That fellow ought to be in prison, taking an unfair advantage.
THE PARSON: Mr Puntila, that will be it, I am sure. We all know your heart is in the right place. It could only have happened when you were under the influence of drink.
PUNTILA: How appalling. In despair: What am I to say to the National Militia? My honour is at stake. Once this gets around I’ll be blacklisted. They’ll stop buying my milk. It’s all Matti’s fault, my driver, he sat next to him, I can see the whole thing. He knows I can’t bear Surkkala, and allowed me to give him ten marks all the same.
THE PARSON: Mr Puntila, there’s no need for you to take this affair too tragically. Such things happen, you know.
PUNTILA: Don’t tell me they happen. They’d better stop happening, or I’ll get myself made a Ward of Court. I can’t drink all my milk myself, I’ll be ruined. Pekka, don’t just sit there, do something, you’re the secretary, I’ll make a donation to the National Militia. It’s the drink, that’s all. Laina, it doesn’t agree with me.
THE LAWYER: You’ll pay him off then. He must go, he’s infecting the atmosphere.
THE PARSON: I think we should leave now, Mr Puntila. No damage is beyond repair so long as one’s intentions are good. Good intentions are everything, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA shakes his hand: Thank you very much.
THE PARSON: Nothing to thank us for, we’re merely doing our duty. Let’s do it quickly.
THE LAWYER: And while you’re about it it might be a good idea to find out about the past history of that chauffeur of yours, who makes no very good impression on me either.
Exeunt parson and lawyer.
PUNTILA: Laina, from now on no drop of alcohol shall pass my lips, no, not one. I thought about it this morning when I woke up. It’s a curse. I decided to go to the cowshed and make a resolution. I am very fond of my cows. Whatever I resolve in my cowshed stands. Grandly: Fetch the bottles out of my stamp cupboard, all of them, and all the alcohol left in the house, I shall destroy it here and now by smashing every single bottle. Never mind how much they cost, Laina, think of the estate.
LAINA: Right, Mr Puntila. But are you absolutely sure?
PUNTILA: That’s disgraceful about Surkkala, my not evicting him, it’s a frightful lesson to me. Tell Altonen too I want him right away. That fellow’s my evil genius.
LAINA: Dear oh dear, they packed everything up once and now they unpacked it again.
Laina hurries off. Enter Surkkala and his children.
PUNTILA: I said nothing about bringing your brats. You’re the one I have to settle with.
SURKKALA: That’s what I thought, Mr Puntila, that’s why I brought them along, they can listen, it won’t do them no harm.
Pause. Enter Matti.
MATTI: Good morning, Mr Puntila, how’s the headache?
PUNTILA: Here the bastard comes. What’s this I hear about you, up to all kinds of tricks behind my back? Didn’t I warn you only yesterday I’d sling you out without a reference?
MATTI: Yes, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA: Shut up, I’m sick of your insolence and smart answers. My friends have been telling me all about you. How much did Surkkala pay you?
MATTI: I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA: Trying to deny that you and Surkkala are as thick as thieves, are you? You’re a Red yourself, managed to stop me getting rid of him just in time, didn’t you?
MATTI: Excuse me, Mr Puntila, I was simp
ly carrying out your orders.
PUNTILA: You must have realised those orders were without rhyme or reason.
MATTI: Excuse me, but orders aren’t as easily distinguished as you might like. If I stuck to obeying the ones that made sense you’d sack me for idling.
PUNTILA: Don’t put words in my mouth, you crook, you know perfectly well I won’t stand for elements like that on my farm, agitating till my men refuse to go out on the heathland without an egg for their breakfast, you bolshevik. In my case it’s mere alcoholic fuddle stops me giving him notice by the right date so that I have to pay three months’ wages to be rid of him; but with you it’s planned.
Laina and Fina keep bringing in bottles.
PUNTILA: This time it’s serious, Laina. You can see it isn’t just a promise but I really am destroying all the alcohol. I never went as far as that on previous occasions, I’m afraid, so I always had alcohol at hand when the weakness came over me. That was the root of all evil. I once read that the first step to temperance was not to buy alcohol. Too few people are aware of that. Once it’s there, though, it must at least be destroyed. To Matti: As for you, I’ve a purpose in letting you watch, there’s nothing could give you such a fright.
MATTI: That’s right, Mr Puntila. Shall I take the bottles out into the yard and smash them for you?
PUNTILA: No, I’ll do it myself, you swindler, just the job that’d be for you, eh, destroying this lovely liquor [he holds up a bottle to inspect it] by drinking the lot.
LAINA: Don’t spend too long looking at that bottle, Mr Puntila, chuck it out of the window.
PUNTILA: Perfectly right. To Matti, coldly: You’ll never get me to drink liquor again, you filthy fellow. All you care about is to have folk wallowing round you like pigs. True love of your work is something you just don’t know, you’d never stir a finger if you didn’t have to keep yourself from starving, you parasite. Making up to me, eh? Spending night after night telling me dirty stories, then leading me to insult my guests ‘cause all you care about is seeing everything dragged into the mire you came from. You’re a case for the police, you told me yourself why you were always getting dismissed, and didn’t I catch you agitating among those females from Kurgela, a rabble rouser, that’s you. He starts absent-mindedly pouring from the bottle into a glass which his servant Matti has just thoughtfully brought him. Your attitude to me is one of hatred, and you hope I’ll fall for your ‘That’s right, Mr Puntila’ every time.
LAINA: Mr Puntila!
PUNTILA: Don’t bother me, there’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m only checking up to see if the shop swindled me and to commemorate my inflexible resolve. To Matti: But I saw through you from the start and was only watching for you to give yourself away, that’s why I got drunk with you but you didn’t notice. He continues to drink. You thought you could lure me into a life of excess and make whoopee with me just sitting alongside you and boozing, but that’s where you made a mistake, my friends have put the finger on you for me and very grateful to them I am, I drink this glass to their healths. I’m appalled when I look back at that life we led, those three days in the Park Hotel, then the trip to find legalised alcohol and those dames from Kurgela, what a life without rhyme or reason, when I think of that milkmaid at dawn trying to take advantage of the fact that I’d had a couple and she’d got big knockers, Lisu I believe she’s called. You were always along of course, you rogue, all the same you must admit those were good times, but I’m not giving you my daughter, you swine, but you aren’t a shit, I’ll say that for you.
LAINA: Mr Puntila, you’re drinking again!
PUNTILA: Me drinking? Is that what you call drinking? A bottle or two? He reaches for the second bottle. Destroy it [he hands her the empty one] smash it, I never want to see it again, you heard what I said. And don’t look at me like Our Lord looking at Peter, I can’t abide people who split hairs. Indicating Matti: That fellow keeps dragging me down, but you lot want me to rot away here till I’m so bored I start biting my toenails. What sort of a life am I leading here? Nothing but having to nag people and tot up the cattle feed day after day. Get out, you pygmies!
Laina and Fina leave, shaking their heads.
PUNTILA, gazing after them: Petty. No imagination. To Surkkala’s children: Rob, steal, become Reds, but don’t grow up to be pygmies, that’s Puntila’s advice to you. To Surkkala: Sorry if I’m meddling in your children’s education. To Matti: Open that bottle.
MATTI: I hope the punch is all right and not peppery like the other day. Uskala needs careful handling, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA: I know, and careful is my middle name. I always make my first sip a very small one, so I can spit it out if anything’s wrong, if it weren’t for being so careful I’d drink the most unspeakable crap. For goodness’ sake take a bottle, Matti, I propose to commemorate the resolutions I’ve made, because they are inflexible, which is a calamity all the same. Here’s to you, Surkkala.
MATTI: Does that mean they can stay, Mr Puntila?
PUNTILA: Need we discuss that now, when there’s no one else around? Staying is no use to Surkkala, Puntila Hall is too small for him, he doesn’t like it here and who can blame him? In his shoes I’d feel exactly the same. I’d look on Puntila as nothing but a capitalist, and you know what I’d do to him? Shove him down a salt mine, that’s what I’d like to do, show him what work really is, the old fraud. Am I right, Surkkala? No need to be polite.
SURKKALA’S ELDEST GIRL: But we want to stay, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA: No, no, Surkkala’s going and wild horses couldn’t stop him. He goes to his desk, unlocks it, takes money from the cashbox and hands it to Surkkala. Less ten. To the children: Always be glad you have a father like that, who’ll go to the limit for his convictions. You’re his eldest, Hella, you must be a support to him. And now it’s time to say farewell.
He offers his hand to Surkkala. Surkkala does not take it.
SURKKALA: Come along, Hella, we’ll get packed. Now you children have heard all there is to hear at Puntila’s, let’s go. Exit with his children.
PUNTILA, painfully moved: My hand’s not good enough for him. Didn’t you see me waiting for him to make a gesture as we said goodbye, for some kind of word on his side? It never came. The farm means nothing to him. Rootless. Doesn’t know the meaning of home. That’s why I let him go, like he insisted. A painful episode. He drinks. You and me, Matti, we’re not that sort. You are a friend and support on my arduous path. Just looking at you gives me a thirst. How much do I pay you?
MATTI: Three hundred a month, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA: I’m putting you up to three hundred and fifty. Because I’m particularly pleased with you. Dreamily: Matti, one of these days I’d like to take you to climb Mount Hatelma, where there’s that famous view, so I can show you what a splendid country you live in, you’ll kick yourself for not realising it earlier. Shall we climb Mount Hatelma, Matti? It’s not all that impossible, I’d say. We could do it in spirit. Given a chair or two we could.
MATTI: I’ll do whatever you fancy, any day of the week.
PUNTILA: I wonder if you have the imagination? Matti is silent.
PUNTILA bursts out: Make me a mountain, Matti! Spare no effort, leave no stone unturned, take the biggest rocks or it’ll never be Mount Hatelma and we shan’t have any view.
MATTI: Everything shall be done as you wish, Mr Puntila. And I realise an eight-hour day’s out of the question if you want a mountain in the middle of the valley.
Matti kicks a valuable grandfather clock and a massive gun locker to pieces, using the wreckage together with a number of chairs to build Mount Hatelma in a fury on top of the big billiard table.
PUNTILA: Take that chair there! You won’t get a proper Mount Hatelma unless you follow my directions, because I know what’s necessary and what isn’t and I have the responsibility. You might easily make a mountain that doesn’t pay, in other words provides no view for me and gives me no pleasure, because you see all you’re interested in is havi
ng enough work, it’s I who have to give it a useful objective. And now I need a path up the mountain, and one that allows me to drag my sixteen stone up in comfort. Without a path I’d say stuff your mountain, so you see you don’t really think. I know how to motivate people, I wonder how you would motivate yourself.
MATTI: There you are, mountain’s ready, you can climb up it now. It’s a mountain complete with path, not one of those half-finished ones like God created in such a hurry ‘cause he only had six days so that he had to go on and create a whole horde of servants for you to tackle things with, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA starts to climb up it: I shall break my neck.
MATTI, gripping him: That’s something you can do on level ground if I don’t prop you.
PUNTILA: It’s why I’m taking you, Matti. Else you’d never see the lovely country which bore you and without which you’d be crap, so be grateful to it.
MATTI: I’m grateful to it unto death, but I’m not sure that’s enough, because the ‘Helsinki Sanomat’ says you have to be grateful beyond death too.
PUNTILA: First come fields and meadows, then the forest. With its fir trees that can survive among rocks and live on nothing, you’d be amazed how little they need to get by.
MATTI: The ideal servants, so to speak.
PUNTILA: We’re climbing, Matti; Excelsior! Leaving behind us buildings and structures put up by human hands we enter the pure realm of nature, which adopts a more austere countenance. Shake off all your petty cares and abandon yourself to the mighty sensation, Matti!
MATTI: I’m doing the best I can, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA: Oh thou blessed Tavastland! One more pull at the bottle, that we may see the full extent of thy beauty!
MATTI: Half a mo while I dash back down the mountain and fetch up the plonk.
He climbs down, then up again.
PUNTILA: I wonder if you can see the whole beauty of this country. Are you a Tavastlander?
MATTI: Yes.
PUNTILA: Then let me ask you: where else is there a sky like the sky above the Tavast country? They say there are places where it is bluer, but the moving clouds are more delicate here, the Finnish winds are kindlier, and I wouldn’t want a different blue even if I could have it. And when the wild swans take off with that rushing sound from the marshy lakes, is that nothing? Don’t you listen to what they say about other places, Matti, they’re having you on, just stick to Tavastland, that’s my advice.