CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY, NORTHRIDGE
KINDLING
A thesis submitted in fulfillment of the requirements
For the degree of Master of Arts in
English
By
Robert Michael Kane
December 2012
The thesis of Robert Michael Kane is approved:
______Dr. Charles Hatfield Date
______Mona Houghton, MFA Date
______Dr. Rick Mitchell, Chair Date
California State University, Northridge
ii
DEDICATION
To Christine with love and admiration
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My appreciation goes out to my Thesis Committee, Dr. Rick Mitchell, Dr. Charles Hatfield, and Professor Mona Houghton, for the time and constructive criticism they provided that helped me forge and better understand my work in its present form. In particular, Dr. Mitchell, whose expertise in experimental theatre found resonance in my own peculiar sense of whimsy, persisted in prompting me to sharpen the focus of my overly ambitious original concept. If I did not necessarily “cut to the bone” of my piece, at least his direction helped me to cut to its muscle.
I fondly recall and credit my high school drama teacher, Ronald Zitzlsperger, for first kindling my passion for theatre and my favorite director, Barbara Schofield, for further stoking the fire.
I acknowledge my debt to my students of English 155 for first bringing to my attention the Occupy Wall Street movement and to Friedrich Engels whose Marxist history of the Great Peasant War was the key to the direction my play would ultimately take.
I extend my heartfelt gratitude to the brilliant cast of the full reading of this play, Dan Berkowitz, Ann L. Gibbs, Aysha Wax, and especially to Christine Kane, for breathing life into my creation.
And as always, my thanks go out to the feline members of my extended family, Teddy, Petal, Roscoe, Spunkmeyer, and Gustave, as my muses and for helping me understand the absurdity of the human condition. Moreover, my long walks with Teddy in particular resulted in many of the tunes that I concocted for the piece.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Signature Page…………………………………………………………………….….…ii Dedication……………………………………………………………...... iii Acknowledgments……………………………………………………………….……...iv Glossary……………………………………………………………………….………...vi Abstract………………………………………………………………………………..…x Cast of Characters…………………………………………………….………………….1 Epigraphs………………………………………………………………………………...2 Kindling………………………………………………………………………………….3 Act I……………………………………………………………………...…………..3 Act II……………………………………………………….………………….....…62 References……...……………………………………………………………….……..112 Appendix A: Sheet Music………………………………...………………………...…114 “If My Mother Was Not a Whore”………………………………………….…114 “I’m a Fine Fella”………………………………………….…………………..115 “Little Little Baby”………………………………………………………….…116 “The Royal Shit Is Pissed”………………………………….…………………118 “Whup, Shotsie!”…………………………………………...…………..……..119 “Indulgences”………………………………………….………………………120 “Boris (Jesus) Loves Me”………………………………………….………….124 “I’m Off to the New World”……………………….………………………….125 “Noblesse Oblige”………………………………………………………….....126 “Elegy for Boris”…………………………………………....………………...127 “Marauder, Marauder”……………………………………….………………..128 Appendix B: Play Reading Flyer………………...……………………...….…………129
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GLOSSARY
GERMAN COMMON (RECURRING) WORDS ach: oh [awkh] alles: all/everything [AWL–lus] bitte: please [BIT-tuh] danke: Thank you [DONK-uh] den: the [dane] der: the [dare] es: it [es] gut: good [goot] halt: halt/stop [halt] hundert: hundred [HOON-dirt] ist: is [ist] ja: yes [yaw] jung: young [yoong] mit: with [mit] nein: no [nine] Scheisse (Scheiße)! Shit! [SHY–suh] sehr: very [zare] so: so/thus [zoh] und: and [oont] unter: under [OON-tr] veilleicht: Perhaps… [fee-LYE’kht] von: from/of [fawn]
SPECIFIC WORDS AND PHRASES (Page# Where first encountered) Hören Sie. (3): Listen (hear me) [HOOH–run zee] Blut! Blut!...Ich habe dein blut… (4): Blood! Blood!...I have your blood… [bloot bloot … ikh HAW-buh dye’n bloot…] Wahrhaftig! (4): Truly/ Really/Indeed [var-HOFF-tik] Nichts! Nichts! Nichts! (5): Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! [nikhts nikhts nikhts] ... guten tag. Wie gehts? (5): Good day. How are you? [GOOT-un tawk. Vee gates] Schade. (5): What a pity/Too bad [SHAW-duh] Gott von Himmel! (6): God from Heaven [gawt fawn HIM-ml] ...GUTES... (6): good [GOOT-us] Was ist das? (7) [...ist das? (48)]: What is that? […is that?] [vaws ist daws] Mein … Gott (7) // Ach, mein liebe Gott! (58) my God // O, my dear God [(awkh,) my’n [LEE–buh] gawt] Ach, meine Liebe. (20): Oh, good gracious!/ Oh my dear! [awkh, MY-nuh LEE-buh] … ist mein Haus. (21): …is my house (place) [ist my’n house] Wo ist mein...(22) [Wo ist Brucht? (76)]: Where is my... [Where is Brucht?] [voh ist my‘n... // voh ist brrrukht] ... für Sie, gnädiges Fräulein. (26): …for you, gracious maiden [few(r) Zee, guh-NAY-dih-gus FROY-line]
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Gott verdammt (27) God damn it [gawt fr–DAHMT] wollen Sie? (27): Will you? [VO–lun zee] Dirndl (27): a young girl [after a type of peasant girl dress] (sarcastic) [DUrN–dl] Entschuldigen Sie, bitte! (27): Excuse (me), please [ent-SHOOL-dih-gen zee, BIT-tuh] Niemand. Nichts. (28): No one. Nothing. [NEE-mahnt. nikhts] dummkopf (28): blockhead; idiot [DOOM-kawpf] Schiesse (Schieße), das war ausgezeichnet! (30): Shit, that was awesome (excellent)! [SHY–suh, daws var OWS-guh-ZYE’kh-net] Blöde stinkfotze. Dumme Kuh! (34): stupid stinking cunt. Idiot (dumb cow) [BLOOr-duh SHTINK-faw-tzuh. DOOM-muh koo] Deine Mutter schwitzt beim Kacken! (36): Your mother sweats when she has to take a shit! [DYE-nuh MOO-tr schvihtzt bye‘m KAW-kun] das ist der… (38): that is the… [daws ist dare…] Guten morgen. (40) Good morning [GOO-tin MORE-gun] Ich bin hier! (41): Here I am. [ikh bin hee(r)] Herr Prince? (42): Mr. Prince? [hare (Prince)] gutes Deutsch (43): good German (speech/language) [GOOT-us doytch] Liebling. (51): Darling. [LEEP-ling] Ich bin müde. (51): I am tired. [ikh bin MEW-duh] Kommst du zuruckt! (56): Come back! [komst doo TSUH-rrruhkt] ein fettes schwein! (56): a fat pig [eye’n FETT-us schwy’n] Grüss (Grüß)Gott, mein Herr. (57): Greetings (to God), sir. [grrews gawt, my‘n hare] mein Freund (57) my friend [my‘n froynt] Herr Brucht (57) Mr. Brucht [hare brrrukht] Es ist gut, ja? (58) It is good, yes? [es ist goot, yaw?] Jesu ist … (59) Jesus is [YAY–zoo ist] Ist das alles? (59): Is that all? [ist daws AW-less?] Meister (59): master [MY-str] Bundschuh (60) the league of the (tied) shoe (symbol and name of a loosely organized peasant revolutionary confederation of the 15th and 16th centuries) [BOONT-shoo] Es ist mein... (60): It is my... [es ist my‘n] Verhurtes Drecksgör. (66): Slutty “dirt“ girl [fare-HOOr-tuhs DRREKS-giw(r)] Wasser unter der... (66): Water under the... [VAS-sr OON-tr dare...] Zeig mir deine Pflaume, Muschi Lecker. (66): Show me your pussy (lit. plum), pussy licker. [zye-k meer DYE-nuh FLAU-muh, MOO-shee LEH-kr] Brucht the Gross’ (Grosse) (67): the big (great) [brrrukht / grrohs (GRROH-suh) Gut genug. (68): Good enough [goot guh-NEWK] Verzeihen Sie, bitte (69): I beg your pardon; let me pass, please. [vare-TSYE-un zee BIT-tuh]] zu machen (69): …to make [tsoo MAH-kin] Bruchtchen (74): little Brucht (term of endearment) [BRREWkH-chin] Jawohl (75): Yes, sir; yes, indeed (formal) [YAW-fohl] Was? (76): What? [vaws] Wunderbar (77) Wonderful (sarcastic) [VOON-dr-BAWr]
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Page 85-86 Verdammt du: Damn you [fare-DAHMT doo] du verdammter arschgefickter Hurensohn.: you damn assfucking son of a bitch [doo fare-DAHM-tr AHRSCH-guh-FIK-tr HOO-run-TSOHN] Missgeburt (Mißgeburt): abortion; monster; bastard [MISS-guh-BOOHRT] Drecksack: dirtbag [DRREK-zahk] Kackbratze: shithead [KOCK-BRRA-tsuh] Arschgesicht.: assface (butthead) [AHRSCH-guh-ZIKHT] So ein Beschiss (Beschiß): What a crock of shit (Such a crock of shit) [Zoh eye’n buh-SHISS] Was ein Schwanzlutscher: What a cocksucker [vaws eye’n schvahnz-LOOT-schr] Leck mich am Arsch: Lick my ass (lick me on my ass) [lek mikh ahm ahrsch] Mutterficker: motherfucker [MOO-tr-FIH-kr] Der Teufel wird los sein.: the shit’s going to hit the fan (lit.: the devil will be wrong) [dare TOY-ful virt lohs zye’n] Verdammte Scheisse (Scheiße): Damn shit [Fare-DAHM-tuh SHY-suh] Verpiss (Verpiß) dich und fahr zur Holle: fuck (piss) off and go to hell [Fare-PISS dikh oont far zoor HOH-luh] Arschloch: asshole [ARSCH-lohkh]
Das ist nicht gut. (87): That’s not good. [daws ist nikht goot] Eine Minute. (93): One moment (lit. a minute) [EYE-nuh muh-NOO-tuh] Ich sehe es nicht! (95): I don’t see it! [ikh ZAY-uh es nikht] Ich kann es nicht sehen! (95): I can’t see it! [ikh kawn es nikht ZAY-un] Schnell. (98): Quickly [schnell] Ich weiss (weiß) nicht, (99): I don’t know. [ikh vise nikht] Es ist sehr... (103): It is very... [es ist zare] Wie lange? (103): How long? [vee LONG-kuh] Ich habe es vergessen. (103): I’ve forgotten it. [ikh HAW-buh es fur-GUESS-un]
OTHER VOCABULARY Page 5: Grosse Scheidegg: a mountain and (by association) the mountain’s pass in Switzerland. [GROH-suh SHY-dek] Pages: 59: Waldo leader of and, by extension, alternative name for the Waldensian reform movement [VAHL-doh] Westphalia a region in Germany [Vest-FAH-lya] Zwinglian adjective formed from Zwingli, Swiss leader of a religious reform movement [TSVING-glee-un] von Heidelberg from/of the town of Heidelberg [fon HY-dle-BURK] Muenzerian adjective formed from Muenzer, leader of a radical religious movement [Mewn-ZARE-ee-un] Mittelswittel name of a fictitious German town [MIT-tls-VIT-tl] Anabaptists members of an evangelical Christian sect [ANN-uh-BAP-tists] von Gräuber from/of this fictitious German town [fawn GROY-br]
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Page 72: Dieter Schmidt: a fictitious person’s full name [DEE-tr schmiht] Margrave of Bindenberg Title of an official of this fictitious German town [MAR-grrayv / BIN-din-BURK] Franz Grüber: a fictitious person’s full name [frrawnts GRREW-br] Mayor of Ausschlag: mayor of a fictitious German town [OWS-schlahk] Till Euermann (Eggman): a fictitious person’s full name [til OY-er-MAHN]
Page 73: Wittenberg famous university town in Germany [VIT-tun-BUrK]
Page 74: Hans und Willie: first names of two offstage characters [Hahnz oont VIL-lee]
SLAVIC WORDS Niet! (9): no [Russian] Pok’ojny. (11): quiet Da (19): yes [Russian] Lepo, lepo, (20): pretty, pretty d’iete. (20): child Pan Brucht (20): Mr. Brucht [Polish] s`emu t`emu (24): this that zabl`udit’ sa (24): lose (get lost; lose one’s way) M’ertve! Smert! (68): Dead! Death! Katastr’ofa. (68): disaster (catastrophe) N’ede. N’eche. N’eko. Nik’o. Nikud’a. Nich’e. (68): Anywhere. Anything. Anybody. Nobody. Nowhere. Nothing.
LATIN WORDS AND PHRASES Umanista (41): humanitarian In nomine patris ... (62): In the name of the father Et Filii ... (62): and the son Et Spiritus Sancti ... (62) and the holy ghost (spirit)
FRENCH WORDS AND PHRASES esprit de bonne compagnie (43): spirit of good companionship objet d'art (64): art object Très charmant. (78): very charming
OTHER sacristy (3): vestry; a room in a church where sacred vessels and vestments are stored [SA-krih-stee] arquebus (26): type of early musket [AR-kuh-bus] misericorde (89): a dagger for dispatching a wounded enemy [miz-AIR-uh-kord]
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ABSTRACT
KINDLING
By
Robert Michael Kane
Master of Arts in English
Illustrating the maxim that the more things change the more they stay the same, my thesis, Kindling, focuses on two outsiders, a Swiss vagabond and a traumatized Slavic peasant woman, who seek refuge in an abandoned German church from the chaotic world around them. As their relationship develops, the two are caught up in the Great Peasant
Rebellion of 1525, an incendiary eruption of class warfare that is fueled by the 16th century equivalency of the Occupy and Tea Party movements. The play draws a comparison between the Reformation era and today by employing humor, satire, incongruity, tragedy, pathos, a hearty dose of anachronism, and an overall sense of absurdity.
x
CAST OF CHARACTERS
BRUCHT: A Swiss vagabond, 30s – 40s.
OLGATHA: A Slavic peasant woman, 30s – 40s.
SISTER BEATITUDE: A German nun, late teens.
PRINCE FERDINAND: A rich and powerful German noble, 20s – 40s.
+
A Peasant Crowd: A number of Off-stage male German voices.
SCENE
A Gothic Church in Thuringia.
TIME
February - May, 1525.
These are the days of the Great German Peasant War.
MUSIC NOTES: For the opening music, I suggest “Miserere Mei Deus” by Gregorio Allegri (performance by The Sixteen on BBC Four).
“Boris Loves Me” is Sister Beatitude’s parody of “Jesus Loves Me,” a song in the Public Domain; original lyrics by Anna Bartlett Warner; melody by William Batchelder Bradley
1
EPIGRAPHS
“The cosmos which is common to all was not made by god or man but it forever was, is and will be, an ever-living fire kindled in measures, going out in measures.” -- Heraclitus
“Ye shall break down their altars, and dash in their pillars, and hew down their Asherim, and burn their graven images with fire.” -- Deuteronomy 7:5
“For rebellion is not simple murder, but is like a great fire, which attacks and lays waste a whole land ... Therefore, let everyone who can, smite, slay, stab, secretly or openly, remembering that nothing can be more poisonous, hurtful or devilish than a rebel ... ” -- Martin Luther
“Am I a robber! Tell your captain: For His Imperial Majesty, have I, as always, due respect. But he, tell him, he can lick me in the arse!” -- Goetz von Berlichingen by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
“Fiat justitia et pereat mundus.”
“Let justice be done, though the world perish.” -- motto of Prince Ferdinand
“Never give a sucker an even break.” --W. C. Fields
“The happiest life is to know nothing at all.” -- Plato as quoted by Desiderius Erasmus
“Lord, what fools these mortals be.” --A Midsummer Night’s Dream III.ii by William Shakespeare
“I knew I shoulda taken a left toin at Albukoykee.” -- Bugs Bunny
2
ACT I
SETTING: The chancel of a small, but lavish Gothic Church. A crucifix bearing a life-size Christ commands the back wall. Two long, wooden pews face the crucifix. In-between, an altar stands. On one side of the church, a door leads to the priest’s inner sanctum, or sacristy; on the other side, a door leads outdoors.
AT RISE: Kaleidoscopic sunshine rhapsodizes through stained glass across the ornate trappings of the interior. Hushed music of the spheres insinuates infinity into the space.
Abruptly, the ethereal music evanesces. The crucifix unhinges from one spot on the wall and dangles. A moment later, the ceiling caves in, dropping massive debris into the center of the chancel. Amidst the wreckage, one pew has collapsed while the altar and the other pew have been overturned. The sound of breaking panes of glass is accompanied by random rays of color spotlighting the rubble from panes still intact. For one moment, the Christ figure wobbles on the wall before pitching head foremost into the wrack. To finish off, one more pane of glass is heard to fall and shatter.
BLACKOUT
A booming echo resounds from a door being pounded by a fist.
LIGHTS UP
BRUCHT (offstage) (calling) Ha! So! The bears have home come, “Goldilocks”! Hören Sie? So much the worse for you! I have dozen rascals out ... out in the front -- thirty of the fiercest throatcutters that ever a throat cut. Not a prayer do you have if when we come through this door there you remain, ja?
The door leading outside opens a crack.
3
BRUCHT (offstage) No-quarter Fritz is here. (speaks in a lower register) Ja, boy, that's me all right. (normal voice) Ja, you don't want to tangle with him, believe me -- or the Bloody Crookback of Stuerzelbrunn neither. (assuming a higher voice) Blut! Blut! Let me go! Ich habe dein blut smelled! (normal voice) That baby will pull out your entrails through your eye sockets mit the eyes still in 'em. (the Crookback voice) Ha ha! What sport that is! (normal voice) They'll chop off your fingers und toes. They'll baste your private parts in grease what for the wild pigs to snack on. We're the maraudinest marauders that ever marauded the land!
BRUCHT presses his face into the doorway crack.
BRUCHT All eighty of us! So, if you dare to stick around, all the worse for you is all I can say! You und any of your puny friends you got there.
BRUCHT, a Swiss vagabond, enters cautiously, his head snorkeling out of the rear end of a horse costume.
BRUCHT Wahrhaftig! Here we are, all two hundert six und thirty of us! Hello? The devil's to pay now, boy. Here we come, crashing und gnashing!
He stops. Gapes at the rubble. Looks up where the ceiling used to be.
BRUCHT What the hell?
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
The scene as before, but in place of BRUCHT stands a Slavic peasant woman, OLGATHA, looking upward.
4
OLGATHA Ah! Thank God.
OLGATHA faints into the rubble.
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
The scene is same as before. All that is visible of OLGATHA, however, is the hem of her skirt sticking out from the debris.
BRUCHT in his horse costume enters from outside, dragging with difficulty a hefty tree with its spray of many branches behind him.
BRUCHT Cold as teats on a milkmaid stuck in einer snowdrift im Grosse Scheidegg in der middle of March.
The branches catch in the doorway.
BRUCHT Ach! Ach! Ach!
After a couple of mighty but ineffectual tugs, BRUCHT lets go and sinks back on his horse's butt.
BRUCHT Scheisse! I feel like a horse's hind end. (Stands. Kicks through rubble.) Nichts! Nichts! Nichts! I freeze my ballsacks tonight. (He stops. With a grunt, he half raises the crucifix till he’s looking straight into the face of Christ.) Hey, buddy, guten tag. Wie gehts? Had a fall from the wall? Schade. (He let’s go. Has second thoughts. Raises it again and knocks on Christ's head.) That's good noggin you got there, my friend. Poplar. Good for carving. You come off your perch?
With effort, BRUCHT breaks off a branch from the tree stuck in the doorway. He returns and starts to pry the Christ off its cross.
5
BRUCHT (to the Christ figure) You think I don't know wood? I know wood, believe me. Been woodcutter for these three -- those ten years.
He frees the two arms first and then works the legs from the cross but, in the process, whiplashes himself in the face.
BRUCHT Gott von Himmel!
BRUCHT staggers about holding his face. He spies a priest’s surplice and unearths it from the trash.
BRUCHT Ach, so, so.
He holds it to his smarting face, sniffs it, gags, then resumes lurching about.
BRUCHT My face, my poor face. My handsome face. Where the mother's kiss will restore this unhappy, poor, abusèd face? (sings) IF MY MOTHER WAS NOT A WHORE, SHE WOULD NOT HAVE HAD A SORE. PICK IT; PRICK IT; OH, WHAT JOY! SHE HAS BORNE ONE GUTES BABY BOY.
He feels his face with his hand. Decides it's okay. He wraps the surplice around his neck as a scarf. Tucks his chin, trying to see himself with it on. Catches sight of the hard face of the wooden Christ.
BRUCHT Hey, buddy, what you looking at?
Again he tries to look at himself.
BRUCHT (to Christ) Mind your own business, or I give you what for. (sings) I’M A FINE FELLA; MY STOCKINGS BRIGHT YELLA;
6
I HAVEN’T A WORLD OF A CARE. IF YOU WAS A FISH UND I WAS A DISH, OH, HOW WE’D MAKE A FINE PAIR. (to Christ) I warn you. You think I won't?
He looks over at the collapsed pew. He scrambles over to it and pats the shattered pew leg.
BRUCHT This is very nice. (He clubs the pew with the butt of his branch, Beating it, jabbing it, trying to break the leg free.) No? (He starts at it again.) You defy me, eh? (He works at it some more, pulling and tugging and twisting.) You don't know who you dealing with. (turns on Christ) I told you to stay out of it! (Spies the hem of Olgatha's dress. Stares.) Was ist das? Clothes? (He scurries over to the dress and lifts up the hem.) Woman's clothes. (Sees Olgatha's leg. Lifts up leg.) Woman's leg? Dead woman? (Drops leg. The leg twitches.) Not dead woman. Oh-ho! A sleeping beauty, veilleicht? (looks) Mein Gott, what a ugly hag! -- What the hell. She keep me warm tonight, eh, Brucht? (considers her for a moment) Up, up, my beauty. Fetch my water, fetch my wood, stock my larder, stroke my manhood. (He raises her up and slings her over his shoulder.) Ugh!
Although far from fat, she's too heavy for him and he collapses beneath her. OLGATHA stirs and sits up, BRUCHT's head under her skirt.
7
OLGATHA (in a daze) Button, button, who got button?
BRUCHT's head emerges from under OLGATHA's skirt between her legs.
OLGATHA Hello there, little corporal.
BRUCHT Corporal? I am a general.
OLGATHA General? You?
BRUCHT Ja, me. (crawls out from under her)
OLGATHA You look like ass.
BRUCHT (stands) I look like a horse.
OLGATHA Congratulations on your promotion. What for this strange disguise?
BRUCHT Disguise? Oh, ja, disguise. Clever, ja?
OLGATHA All because one button desert its duty.
BRUCHT Button? What button? What craziness you talking?
OLGATHA Talk about your derelict button. Cause your pantaloons down drop to ankles.
BRUCHT You know me?
8
OLGATHA I know you.
BRUCHT Pah. You don't know me.
OLGATHA I know you. You little corporal whose pants fall down.
BRUCHT That is not me. I am no corporal. I am a big chief. Chief high captain general lord prince of emperors!
OLGATHA laughs.
BRUCHT Don’t you laugh! Do not you dare laugh at me!
OLGATHA laughs.
BRUCHT What is more, you trespassing on my ... my ... territory, my what-this-is, my realm.
OLGATHA Trespass?
BRUCHT For which there is a fine.
OLGATHA Hah!
BRUCHT Is it ‘hah,’ is it? You say ‘hah’ to my face? Take it back!
OLGATHA No.
BRUCHT No?!
OLGATHA Niet!
BRUCHT You you you ...
9
(turns on Christ) You! I am angry with you. (hits Christ with his branch)
OLGATHA Stop.
BRUCHT Yes? (hits it more vigorously)
OLGATHA (stands) Stop! Stop!
He strikes the Christ icon repeatedly. She rushes in and tears the branch out of his hands.
BRUCHT It is you who dare this?
She slaps him.
OLGATHA It is only child.
She threatens him with the branch. He shrinks away, holding his face.
BRUCHT Child?!
OLGATHA puts her hands about the Christ icon lovingly.
OLGATHA Moo moo moo, little coo coo coo.
BRUCHT (perplexed) That's a big wooden lug of a man.
She snarls. He backs away. She sits on the rubble heap, soothing the wooden icon at her breast.
10
OLGATHA Murderer!
BRUCHT Look at its face. A beard!
OLGATHA Treacherous dog! -- Child, I say. See, he wearing diaper.
BRUCHT An old man. He's incontinent.
OLGATHA He need his mother. (to Christ) Where has Mommy gone off to?
BRUCHT His mommy's a poplar that's been chopped down und used for firewood.
OLGATHA Pok’ojny. Keep voice down.
BRUCHT (raising his voice) An old man what needs a shave. (pulls on Christ’s beard; catches a splinter) Ow!
OLGATHA You, go look for button.
BRUCHT (working on the splinter) Button. To hell mit your buttons.
She stands.
BRUCHT (steps back) Night's on its way. We need kindling.
OLGATHA Kindling?
11
BRUCHT To make fire mit. It will get cold.
OLGATHA So?
BRUCHT So, it was cold as hellfire last night. But that bench there, oak, excellent firewood. That there baby diaper-man of yours, poplar wood --
OLGATHA Baby's not for kindling.
BRUCHT See? You know that I’m right!
OLGATHA No.
BRUCHT Crazy bitch. We'll freeze to death.
OLGATHA I keep baby warm.
BRUCHT Only if you two rub together like a witch scootching her kootchie on a log.
OLGATHA Idiot. You make fire, marauders see from miles away.
BRUCHT What do I care about marauders?
OLGATHA You see marauder, you care.
BRUCHT Pff, I am marauder myself.
OLGATHA You, marauder?
BRUCHT Ja. Perhaps you show some respect now.
12
She hits him.
BRUCHT Ow!
OLGATHA You not marauder.
BRUCHT You better watch yourself.
OLGATHA You idiot.
BRUCHT Marauder, I tell you.
OLGATHA Idiot.
BRUCHT Marauder.
OLGATHA Idiot idiot idiot.
BRUCHT Und you, woman, what are you?
OLGATHA Woman.
BRUCHT A woman. Aha! I suspected as much. You know what marauders do mit woman, hah? We marauders have marauding parts with which to maraud with gut. You, woman, have woman parts that we marauders maraud just as we please.
OLGATHA hits BRUCHT. BRUCHT falls down. She kicks him in the ass.
OLGATHA Hah!
BRUCHT (sulking) You can't treat me like that. Have you no respect for marauders?
13
OLGATHA Idiot.
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
Dusk.
OLGATHA awkwardly strolls about the chancel, bearing the bulky, full-size Christ icon in her arms.
BRUCHT is again trying to pry off the leg from the pew.
OLGATHA Leave that alone.
He keeps working at it.
OLGATHA What you have to break things for? Enough with breaking of things.
BRUCHT I break things ‘cause so I can make use of them.
OLGATHA You gonna hurt what is very nice bench.
BRUCHT Ja, I going to hurt it gut.
OLGATHA “Wonderful.” How you set on fire?
BRUCHT I worry about that when it’s broken to pieces.
OLGATHA Now is good to sit on. You break -– no good for nothing. (beat) When you ever make fire?
BRUCHT I make plenty fires.
14
OLGATHA What your name, mister starter of fires?
BRUCHT Why do you want to know?
OLGATHA I'm tired of calling you idiot.
BRUCHT You won't call me idiot once I make a fire.
OLGATHA I'll call you idiot what burned up our bench what was good to sit on.
BRUCHT You shut up, woman. Go, hunt up some grub.
Pause.
OLGATHA I not eat three days.
BRUCHT I’ve not eaten for six ... seven.
OLGATHA Almost forgot what food taste like.
BRUCHT I remember well enough.
OLGATHA Many years ago, before this plague of marauders, there was fresh things to eat: cauliflower and turnips and parsley and ginger snaps.
BRUCHT I don't remember no ginger snaps.
She snaps her fingers at him and laughs. She looks down at Christ.
OLGATHA Perhaps he don’t eat for six days.
15
BRUCHT I'd say longer.
OLGATHA sits on a mound of rubble, bares a breast, and puts Christ's face to it as if for nursing.
BRUCHT gawks at OLGATHA.
Beat.
BRUCHT You got another one of those?
OLGATHA Pff.
BRUCHT I could maraud you, you know. (beat) It would be neighborly of you to offer. (pause) It's just going to waste. (beat) You'd be surprised. Once upon a time, I too had a mother. (beat) Ach, Gott! If only now some saintly she there was with teeming jugs would pity show a poor orphan boy.
OLGATHA (closes her eyes) Sun, rain. Whoosh. Mother earth, heaven's bounty, God's mercy. God is good.
BRUCHT Uhhhh ... Is that a yes?
He steps towards her cautiously.
OLGATHA looks at him; makes her other breast available.
BRUCHT No funny doings now. (steps closer) You won't hit?
She smirks; takes her free breast in her hand and
16
jiggles. BRUCHT greedily kneels down and reaches for her tit. She clubs him.
BRUCHT Ow! That was dirty trick.
She firmly takes him by the hair.
OLGATHA That's so you won't try no funny doings.
He whimpers. She sighs; holds his face to her breast. He tries to suckle.
OLGATHA Not so hard!
She whacks him on the head.
BRUCHT Give up some milk!
OLGATHA You get what there is.
BRUCHT There is nothing!
OLGATHA Then that is what you get.
BRUCHT No, no, I can pretend. The pretend has kept me going for nine days -- twelve. Woof! I'm almost out of pretend. Bitte.
OLGATHA allows his mouth back to her nipple. He snuggles in her lap as best he can alongside the rigid Jesus and sucks. After a moment, he raises his head to her.
BRUCHT Brucht.
OLGATHA What?
17
BRUCHT Brucht.
OLGATHA Brucht what?
BRUCHT My name.
OLGATHA No.
BRUCHT Yes.
OLGATHA You don't look like no Brucht.
BRUCHT No?
OLGATHA No. You look like ... idiot.
BRUCHT (gesturing towards her tit) Mmm?
She sighs; pushes his head into her breast.
OLGATHA Olgatha.
BRUCHT Mmm?
OLGATHA Olgatha. My name.
BRUCHT Maybe I can try the other side?
OLGATHA That's his.
18
BRUCHT He can have this one.
OLGATHA You can have what I give you.
Beat.
BRUCHT Olgatha?
OLGATHA Yes?
BRUCHT It is very nice to meet this way.
OLGATHA Hm.
BRUCHT You know what?
OLGATHA Hmm?
BRUCHT My marauding parts is getting a little lift.
She grabs his crotch.
BRUCHT (squealing) Ahhh! I'm gut!
She lets go.
BRUCHT Olgatha?
OLGATHA Da?
BRUCHT You let me know if you feel like being marauded, won't you?
19
She smiles.
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
Flakes of snow drift in through the open roof and doorway.
BRUCHT is balled up amongst the rubble, shivering and snoring.
OLGATHA has his surplice and is wrapping it around Christ's loins.
OLGATHA There. Lepo, lepo, little d’iete. You don't stink so bad. (looks at BRUCHT) I wish I could say same for you, Pan Brucht. (rocks Jesus and sings) LITTLE LITTLE BABY, ONE, TWO, THREE -- WHOO! TOSS UP PRETTY BABY WAY UP INTO SKY. LONG, PRETTY, POINTY STICKS, DON’T YOU AGREE THAT LITTLE LITTLE BABY COME DOWN FROM ON HIGH -- THAT LITTLE LITTLE BABY COME DOWN BY AND BY! (gives Christ a hug)
Suddenly, BRUCHT erupts with a blustering sneeze that boosts him to an upright sitting position.
BRUCHT Ka-chowie! Ach, meine Liebe.
OLGATHA (To BRUCHT) Brute! Good-for-nothing! Now see what you done? You woke baby!
Baffled, BRUCHT stares at the impassive wooden figure in her arms.
OLGATHA (To Christ) Shhh. Shhh. Little darling. Do not cry. Mama’s here. Tch, tch. Ohhh! Who’s good boy? Who’s good boy? La la la la. Such handsome boy. Yes, he is. Yes, he is. La la la la la.
20
BRUCHT (glowering at OLGATHA) Bah!
BRUCHT stretches and shakes out the drowsiness and cold.
OLGATHA Go to sleepies, little angel. Mama’s right here. She won’t let bad man harm her little baby. Nothing bad going to happen to her sweet little onion. No, no, no.
BRUCHT stamps his feet to regain circulation. He stomps to the back wall and lowers the front of his horse suit.
OLGATHA turns and sees BRUCHT urinating against the wall; stands.
OLGATHA (to BRUCHT) Out! Out! Take piss and spit and shit outside. Not in my home. Pig! Idiot!
BRUCHT Shut up, woman. This ist mein Haus.
OLGATHA Go! Make your useless self useful; find baby something to eat.
BRUCHT You der intruder here.
OLGATHA I keep clean house. Not some sty what for you to wallow in.
BRUCHT Oh, und who, I wonder, is cause of der ceiling to cave in, hmmm? That wasn’t like that last time I was here.
OLGATHA Ah, and what did you do to keep sky from falling into our house, good-for-nothing? Did you fix roof? Replace rotten beams? Patch holes? Shore up crumbly buttress? Shoo away shitting birds? Trap gnawing rats? Unclog gutters? Sweep off mounding snow? Switch out broken tiles?
BRUCHT Ohhhh!
21
OLGATHA No! You do none of those things. All you know how to do is break things. Set on fire. Burn. Destroy. And why? Because, Pan Brucht, you lazy, no good idiot.
BRUCHT I ... I ... am not those things that you say I am.
OLGATHA No?
BRUCHT No. I have carpenter been these five -– ten -- fifteen years. Gut carpenter. Best at my trade. You ask anybody. Half the cottages in Muehlhausen I build. Three-quarters. You ask.
OLGATHA What cottage should I see? Muehlhausen is total ruins. Only house left standing is this right here. What people I ask? Huh? Who still alive? Whose blood is not splattered over charred brick and smashed timber? Is work of your carpentry? -- Is work of genuine, honest-to-goodness marauders?
BRUCHT I ... I ... I ... I gut marauder, too.
OLGATHA You good liar. Good? Maybe not so much. But you liar. If you weren’t, I would kill you.
OLGATHA and BRUCHT glare at one another.
BRUCHT (breaking away) I show you! I go out to hunt. I slaughter half the ravenous beasts that roam the land, that feast on the bodies of the dead. Then you will see what I can do. I, the best hunter in Thuringia. In the whole of the Holy Empire. I kill them all! All, I tell you. All! Ach, you will see. You will see.
BRUCHT storms over to the doorway, stops, feels about his neck, turns, and stomps back to OLGATHA.
BRUCHT Mein scarf, bitte. Wo ist mein scarf? (follows OLGATHA’s gaze to Christ’s new diaper) Bah! (storms back to door, mumbling)
22
Given der choice, is best man starve or freeze to death?
OLGATHA resumes fussing over the Christ icon.
After a parting, haughty look, BRUCHT manages to scrape his way through the obstructed doorway.
OLGATHA sighs and gazes at the chancel wreckage. She gently lays Christ into the upturned altar, its legs sticking through, its arms and head rigidly sticking out. She then stands, hikes her skirts up, and sets to work. As she hauls rubble and stacks it neatly next to the outdoor exit, she begins to sing.
OLGATHA LITTLE LITTLE BABY, ONE, TWO, THREE -- WHOO! TOSS UP PRETTY BABY WAY UP INTO SKY. LONG, PRETTY, POINTY STICKS, DON’T YOU AGREE THAT LITTLE LITTLE BABY COME DOWN FROM ON HIGH -- THAT LITTLE LITTLE BABY COME DOWN BY AND BY?
PAPA, OH, PAPA, WHAT IS THERE TO EAT? BOOM-BOOM-BOOM LULLABY, PIGGIES RUN AWAY. SOLDIERS SNACK ON MAMA’S HOSPITALITY; THEY’VE COME TO CALL ON PAPA IN THIS FRIENDLY WAY -- PAPA’S HEAD SO HANDSOME ON BURNING BARNYARD GATE.
THE STAGE GRADUALLY DARKENS as night falls.
OLGATHA YET SING FOREVER SWEETLY FOR ALL BUTTONS LOST ... (She pauses, lost in thought.)
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
Daybreak. Snow now blows harder through open roof and doorway.
Over half of the debris has been cleared to one side.
OLGATHA, clutching Christ, shivers beneath the crippled pew, which, propped up, acts as a tiny lean-to.
23
OLGATHA (hypnotically muttering) Needle thread thread needle all sewn up all torn up all spill out all made new all fall in all fall down buttons button s`emu t`emu where is button look look under bush over snow zabl`udit’sa hot borscht yellow brown white green is good good very good time to sow before corporal come ...
BRUCHT suddenly blunders into the branches in the doorway, snapping off several in his wild throes to get through. His body is stiff from the cold. In his arms, he clutches a mass of leaves and bark, some of which escapes to the floor.
OLGATHA bolts upright with the wooden Christ still in her arms.
BRUCHT, breaking free, rushes up to OLGATHA, where he stands shaking.
OLGATHA Don’t you drag that mess into my house!
BRUCHT F-f-f-f-f-food!
OLGATHA What?
BRUCHT All all all I could find. All there is. Eat.
BRUCHT stiffly opens his arms, and the leaves and bark drop at her feet. OLGATHA screeches.
OLGATHA What you doing! My clean floor!
BRUCHT No. No. Eat. Eat.
BRUCHT stiffly scoops up some leaves and offers them to OLGATHA.
OLGATHA tentatively takes BRUCHT’s offering. Sniffs the leaves. Looks warily at BRUCHT; offers the leaves to the Christ icon.
24
His offering having been accepted, BRUCHT joins OLGATHA under the pew. He shivers as he gnaws on a piece of bark.
BRUCHT Fr-fr-frozen. Hands, hands ...
OLGATHA My little Boris, he will not eat.
BRUCHT Boris?
OLGATHA Is good name, no?
BRUCHT Sure. Why not?
OLGATHA Name him after my father. My father was great man. He could throw tree trunk ten lengths.
BRUCHT Is that so?
OLGATHA You think he look pale?
BRUCHT As healthy piece of poplar I ever see.
OLGATHA Boris, sweetie, won’t you try little tree bark? For Mommy? Please, little darling. Yummy yum yum.
BRUCHT Maybe it filled up on mother’s milk.
OLGATHA He should eat.
BRUCHT Eat up, Boris; grow some leaves on your chest.
25
OLGATHA I did not think you coming back.
BRUCHT Der conquering hero returns. Eat.
OLGATHA (munching on some leaves) Vegetables would have been nice. Fruit. Legumes.
BRUCHT Suckling pig, roast goose, trussed pheasant, only the best für Sie, gnädiges Fräulein.
They sit silently together, shoulder to shoulder, munching on leaves and bark, shivering.
BRUCHT I like what you done to the place.
OLGATHA I not finished yet.
BRUCHT Still, it looks gut.
A moment later, they feel a jolt; they look around; they feel another jolt.
BRUCHT What the hell?
A piece of flooring visibly tries to rise beneath them.
OLGATHA Oh, my God!
Another jarring sends BRUCHT and OLGATHA scrambling to their feet. A moment later, the pew tips over and a trapdoor opens where they had been sitting.
Out of the pit emerges a nun. She carries an arquebus and has a huge broadsword suspended from a baldric slung across her back.
26
This nun, SISTER BEATITUDE, is young, petite, and rather pretty.
SISTER BEATITUDE (to BRUCHT, laughing) Gott verdammt, Tubby, lose a few pounds, wollen Sie?
Suddenly, she realizes she is faced with two strangers.
SISTER BEATITUDE (under her breath) Fuck.
SISTER BEATITUDE adopts a defensive fight-or- flight posture. Everyone remains stock-still for several tense seconds.
SISTER BEATITUDE Who are you?
OLGATHA (casually) I am simple orphan girl seeking shelter.
SISTER BEATITUDE (to BRUCHT) Und you? You orphan girl, too, Dickbreath?
OLGATHA (smirks) Oh, no. He is famous marauder.
SISTER BEATITUDE Is that so? You marauder, Dinky Dick?
BRUCHT What? Where you get such craziness?
SISTER BEATITUDE Dirndl here say you a fucking marauder. A fucking thief. A fucking cutthroat. What cause have she to lie? Hmm? Can’t think of any.
BRUCHT Entschuldigen Sie, bitte! (pleading to OLGATHA)
27
Speak the truth! (to the nun) I am no one. Niemand. Nichts. A serf. Not even a serf. Der dirt unter your foots. A harmless vagabond. Don’t hurt me!
SISTER BEATITUDE laughs, reaches back into the trap, and pulls out a picket sign depicting an old shoe.
SISTER BEATITUDE Then you’re one of us!
BRUCHT A shoemaker?
SISTER BEATITUDE Pff, dummkopf.
Just then, SISTER BEATITUDE notices the rubble and looks up.
SISTER BEATITUDE Holy Christ! What have you been here doing, vagabond? You fucking destroyed der fucking roof! No wonder it’s so fucking freezing in here. Mein fucking Gott!
BRUCHT It was like that, I swear, when I last come!
SISTER BEATITUDE (critically eyeing BRUCHT) Scheisse. You look like a horse’s ass.
OLGATHA stalks up to SISTER BEATITUDE and looks her in the eye. She yanks the shoe sign from the nun’s hand, looks at it one way, then another. Squinching her eyes at the nun, OLGATHA saunters with the sign back to BRUCHT.
OLGATHA Da. Horse’s ass. –- I freezing my tits off. (tosses the sign to BRUCHT) Here. Start your fire. -- And leave Boris alone.
SISTER BEATITUDE’s face asks ‘Who?’
OLGATHA picks up the Christ icon.
28
OLGATHA (to SISTER BEATITUDE) You ever see such cute baby?
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
It has stopped snowing.
In the center of the chancel surrounded by a low wall of loose stones, a campfire burns. Pieces of the crippled pew feed the flames. Christ lies in the makeshift crib.
OLGATHA and BRUCHT are seated upstage of the campfire on the remaining pew. SISTER BEATITUDE is standing. All three are gorging themselves on skewered rat, pigeon legs, roasted potatoes and turnips, loaves of bread and cheese, and washing it down with tankards of beer. Overhead, a tarpaulin is strung at a slant to ward off drafts from the ceiling and open doorway. The trapdoor, too, remains open, over which a crude pulley system has been rigged. Crates of food supplies, as well as two large casks, one of which that has been tapped, sit nearby.
SISTER BEATITUDE (eyeing OLGATHA) ... ja, but, once upon a time, common land was common to all! But now what’s common is for these blue-blooded bastards to claim it all as their own.
BRUCHT (while gnawing on a rat) This prince you speak of, he a rich guy, ja?
SISTER BEATITUDE inserts herself on the pew next to OLGATHA.
SISTER BEATITUDE Der fucker drips mit golden guilders. (brushes back her hair and laughs) But he’s dripping mit more than that now! (to OLGATHA) Ha ha! Today, we tipped over der royal privy as Prince Turd-in-hand Ferdinand sat upon
29
der “throne”! Scheisse, das war ausgezeichnet! (howling with laughter) Ha! Is he royally pissed! (sings to OLGATHA) THE ROYAL SHIT IS PISSED! THE ROYAL SHIT IS PISSED! HE SAT UPON THE JOHN! WHEN WE CAME ALONG! IF HE WANTED TO PISS US OFF -- HE GOT, BOY, WHAT HE WISHED. (spoken) I wish his face I could have seen! (sings) NOW THE ROYAL SHIT IS PISSED!
OLGATHA Sound like he missing some buttons.
SISTER BEATITUDE Bet your sweet bottom.
BRUCHT Hey! Hey, you guys, I know a gut one. Listen to this:
OLGATHA frowns. SISTER BEATITUDE yawns.
BRUCHT (sings) WHUP, SHOTSIE, THAT’S MY LASS,
SISTER BEATITUDE rolls her eyes; looks over at OLGATHA.
BRUCHT WHUP, INGE, SWEETING, YOU LICK MY BALLS, I KISS YOUR ASS ...
OLGATHA gives him a disgusted look.
BRUCHT ... UND PUSSY’S GUT FOR EE-EE-EE-EE-EEEEEA- --
SISTER BEATITUDE leaps up, heartily interrupting BRUCHT.
30
SISTER BEATITUDE OH, THE PLAGUE HATH SLAIN MY BUXOM WIFE; THE PRINCE HATH TORCHED MY FARM. I BREAK MY BACK FOR FAMINE’S WAGE; THIS WORLD DOTH MEAN ME HARM, OH! THIS WORLD DOTH MEAN ME HARM.
INDULGENCES -- (slides over to the trapdoor) INDULGENCES, SET MY SOUL FREE; I’LL INDULGE THE WHORESON PRIEST ...
SISTER BEATITUDE, with a yank, hauls up a skeleton in a tattered priest’s robe, the chain about its neck, from the trap using the pulley.
BRUCHT and OLGATHA gasp.
SISTER BEATITUDE (with a wicked grin) IF GOD INDULGES ME. (to the skeleton) PRAY, FATHER, HELP ME IN MY NEED. THIS LIFE OF HELL DOTH TEMPT MY SOUL. (working the skeleton’s jaw) “MY SON,” QUOTH HE, “RENOUNCE THIS WORLD TO GAIN SALVATION’S GOAL, OH! TO GAIN SALVATION’S GOAL.”
INDULGENCES, INDULGENCES, SET MY SOUL FREE -- I’LL INDULGE THE WHORESON PRIEST IF GOD INDULGES ME.
SISTER BEATITUDE laughs. Throughout the rest of the song, she frequently returns to gaily play and dance with the dangling bones.
SISTER BEATITUDE “GIVE ME, MY SON, THINE ONLY COW UND SELL THY BROOD OF SEVEN. THY HEAVY BURDEN THUS FORGO –- UND BUY YOUR WAY TO HEAVEN, OH! -–“ (spoken) We don’t mean purgatory! (sings) “-- UND BUY YOUR WAY TO HEAVEN.”
31
SISTER BEATITUDE joined by BRUCHT INDULGENCES, INDULGENCES, SET MY SOUL FREE; I’LL INDULGE THE WHORESON PRIEST IF GOD INDULGES ME.
SISTER BEATITUDE (directly to OLGATHA) “TO ME, YOUR LAST CRUST OF BREAD, TO ME, YOUR DRAUGHTS OF WINE, TO ME, GIVE ALL; THY CROSS I’LL BEAR TO WIN YOU GRACE –-“ (She belches at BRUCHT; then back to OLGATHA:) “-- TO WIN YOU GRACE DIVINE.” (dances flirtatiously back to the bones.)
SISTER BEATITUDE and BRUCHT INDULGENCES, INDULGENCES, SET MY SOUL FREE; I’LL INDULGE THE WHORESON PRIEST IF GOD INDULGES ME.
SISTER BEATITUDE (raps) THANK YE, FATHER, I AM SAVED FROM SINFUL THOUGHT UND DEED, UND FEAR NOT NOW WHEN TO DUST I COME TO PAY THE DEVIL’S FEE –- (spoken) Devil’s not cheap. (raps) -- TO PAY THE DEVIL’S FEE.
SISTER BEATITUDE and BRUCHT (sings) INDULGENCES, INDULGENCES, SET MY SOUL FREE; I’LL INDULGE THE WHORESON PRIEST IF GOD INDULGES ME.
SISTER BEATITUDE (winks at OLGATHA; sings) NOW I MY NEIGHBOR’S WIFE CAN BED, RECLAIM MY GOODS WITH MIND AT EASE, (to BRUCHT) UND STAB THEE TO THE HEART, FOUL PRIEST, FOR I HAVE BOUGHT ETERNAL PEACE.
BRUCHT FOR I HAVE BOUGHT ETERNAL –-
32
SISTER BEATITUDE (spoken) -- piss --
BRUCHT (spoken) -- Peace!
They laugh.
SISTER BEATITUDE and BRUCHT (harmonizing) INDULGENCES, INDULGENCES, SET MY SOUL FREE; I’LL INDULGE THE WHORESON PRIEST IF GOD INDULGES ME.
On the final note, SISTER BEATITUDE releases the pulley, the skeleton drops out of sight, and she slams the trapdoor shut.
OLGATHA (hissing) Sssssssh! You frighten Boris!
The nun laughs and twirls in a circle as BRUCHT moseys over to the trapdoor. He looks at it with furrowed brow.
SISTER BEATITUDE Boris Christ! (sings) BORIS LOVES ME, THIS I KNOW! ‘CAUSE THE BIBLE TELLS ME SO!
BRUCHT What you think of what he was wearing?
SISTER BEATITUDE belches.
OLGATHA (to the nun) Shut up! (She catches herself and covers her own mouth.)
SISTER BEATITUDE Hey, Immaculate Conception, what got your petticoats stuck up your twat?
33
BRUCHT (regarding skeleton’s robe) Lots of holes -- und der smell. Probably a curse, too, huh?
SISTER BEATITUDE (flouncing up to OLGATHA) If “Boris” can put up mit years of splinters on a cross, he won’t mind a bride of Christ letting her snood down.
SISTER BEATITUDE plants a big, loud kiss on OLGATHA’s mouth.
OLGATHA is stunned. Suddenly, OLGATHA hauls back and slugs SISTER BEATITUDE, who falls flat.
BRUCHT winces.
SISTER BEATITUDE (to OLGATHA) Fucking cunt. Blöde stinkfotze. Dumme Kuh!
OLGATHA menaces her. The nun glares back, hisses, and spits.
BRUCHT slinks back to the fire and to his plate of food.
OLGATHA (controlled powder keg) This is my home.
SISTER BEATITUDE Your home!?
OLGATHA My home!
SISTER BEATITUDE I guess you didn’t notice my little stockpile of goodies you been pigging out on?
OLGATHA I notice your crap.
SISTER BEATITUDE I come here first!
34
OLGATHA And you can be first to go!
SISTER BEATITUDE Make me, Twatface!
OLGATHA You no deserve. No. Deserve. Outside world go all to shit. Not here. Not here! Here is peace. Here is comfort. Here is place where there is life. There is no room for death here. Not here. No room for lies. No room for ugliness. Here we build world again. This time we build it right. (shoots a glance at BRUCHT) I build it right if no one else will help me. Here my Boris will grow up. He will become man. Real man, not marauder, not priest, not prince, not liar, not killer, not thief or political man. He will be good man. Man of goodness, peace, and love. No dirty songs. No weapons. No foolishness as I have seen. (starts to get strange again) Here buttons stay on pants. Buttons don’t get lost. Here buttons come. They safe here. Buttons from long ago suddenly found. Is sanctuary. No more buttons lost. No more lost ... lost ... lost ...
SISTER BEATITUDE exchanges a look with BRUCHT. He shrugs.
OLGATHA (distant) That is no way to treat dead people.
SISTER BEATITUDE (under her breath) Go fuck yourself, you crazy, fucked-up bitch.
OLGATHA looks at BRUCHT.
BRUCHT What?
OLGATHA (quietly) I could use little support sometimes.
BRUCHT What?
OLGATHA If you real man. If you had ballsacks.
35
OLGATHA kicks the plate of food out of his hands, hauls Christ from the crib, and stalks out through the audience.
SISTER BEATITUDE (after the departing OLGATHA) Deine Mutter schwitzt beim Kacken!
BRUCHT (sulking) What for she get pissed at me? Are we married? Have I even marauded her? What the hell! (stands)
Pause.
BRUCHT’s eyes wander again to the trap.
BRUCHT (to SISTER BEATITUDE) Who was that guy?
SISTER BEATITUDE (sourly) Your mother.
LIGHTS FADE OUT.
Hammering. A sudden cry of pain.
LIGHTS UP
There is no trace left of debris. The two barrels are as before. All crates of food, other than the one at OLGATHA’s feet, have been neatly stacked against the wall. Again the Christ icon is lying in/on the converted altar. The door leading to the outside is free of obstruction and closed. The tree has been cut up into logs and kindling. SISTER BEATITUDE’s sword sticks out of the largest log. The tarpaulin is gone; scaffolding has been erected in its place.
OLGATHA looks up from below at BRUCHT on the scaffold; he sucks on a finger, a mallet at his feet.
36
OLGATHA Good carpenter.
BRUCHT How can I work unter these conditions?
OLGATHA You mean sober?
BRUCHT (under his breath) Tyrant.
OLGATHA What?
BRUCHT (innocently) What?
OLGATHA (glowering) There is still yet much to do.
She picks up a crate. As she passes beneath the scaffold, BRUCHT sits, accidentally knocking off the mallet, which falls to the floor just after OLGATHA has passed the spot where it lands. OLGATHA sharply looks up at BRUCHT.
BRUCHT (defensively) Oops. Mallet’s fault. Es wants to go to center of earth. This professor guy from Wittenberg once told me.
OLGATHA Two idiots.
BRUCHT Professor Publius Smegma. I never forget. We shared a ditch by the road one fortnight, hiding from –- well, never mind from what. He actually told me many remarkable things I never before knew.
OLGATHA (stacking the crate neatly) Such as remarkable ways to kill me?
37
BRUCHT Such as there is a recipe for people making.
OLGATHA I too know this recipe. Add one frisky brute to one foolish girl. Shake together for five minutes. Fifteen if you want best results.
BRUCHT Ja, but there ist also another method. Scientific method. You place the four humors of the body together between two hot bricks. So: black bile, piss, phlegm, und blood. Add crushed basil, eregano, und a pinch of salt; whisk in a bowl; und let stand unter a full moon overnight.
OLGATHA Ah, but can scientific method clean house and cook, haul water, and do all things lazy man tries not doing?
BRUCHT Publius say das ist der best way to conceive because woman is evil, lustful witch und should be burned to ashes.
OLGATHA Blessèd is woman’s life on earth.
BRUCHT Ja ...
BRUCHT slides down a scaffolding rope to the floor.
BRUCHT ... Problem is, Publius say, if the man don’t do the hooptie doo enough times a year, his semen turns to acid und his penis burns off.
OLGATHA What is “penis”?
BRUCHT A man’s happy pipe.
OLGATHA Da? And when was last time Publius do his hooptie?
BRUCHT Intellectual humanist what read books don’t need hooptie. But, woman, here’s something what’s really interesting. Brucht cannot read.
38
OLGATHA You want lies, open your mouth.
BRUCHT (confidential) I think I’m overdue.
OLGATHA Perhaps I put hex on you.
BRUCHT I willing to take risk.
OLGATHA What risk for witch?
BRUCHT No risk. You damned already.
OLGATHA When your penis catch fire, let me know. I come watch.
From the priest’s chambers, enter SISTER BEATITUDE.
OLGATHA crosses her arms and watches her sourly.
SISTER BEATITUDE pointedly ignores her. But in passing, she yanks out the sword from the log and twirls it for OLGATHA’s benefit before exiting through the audience.
Pause.
OLGATHA (staring after her) This I don’t like.
BRUCHT What?
OLGATHA maintains her stare.
BLACKOUT
39
LIGHTS UP
The chancel is empty except for PRINCE FERDINAND, a blond god of a man in shining armor. He stands, arms akimbo, assessing the crates and scaffolding. At least half of the logs are gone.
BRUCHT enters from the priest’s inner sanctum. He carries a stack of books and parchments so high that he cannot see in front of him. Consequently, he walks straight into the PRINCE. He staggers backwards, the books wobbling in his arms.
PRINCE FERDINAND (in a quiet voice) Guten morgen.
Startled, BRUCHT drops all but the book at the bottom of the pile. He recognizes the PRINCE, drops the last book, makes to doff his hat, discovers he doesn’t have one, and bows instead.
BRUCHT Guten morgen, your esteemed butthea-eh -- Your Grace!
PRINCE FERDINAND Carry on, good fellow. Just hunting marauders; don’t mind me.
BRUCHT Marauders?!
PRINCE FERDINAND Mmm. I have a first-rate collection hanging at my palace gates. Always looking for new faces ... Plenty of space ...
BRUCHT (shaking with fright) I think they all fly south for der winter.
PRINCE FERDINAND (regarding the books) You must be quite the scholar.
BRUCHT Scholar? -- Ja, ja, that’s me, all right. Smartest guy you ever run into.
40
PRINCE FERDINAND Distinctive attire. -- I saw a fellow once ... A professor of rhetoric and metaphysics from the University of Wittenberg. Umanista. He’d been robbed, you see. -– You’re not ...
BRUCHT No! Never!
PRINCE FERDINAND ... Professor Publius Excretus Smegma?
BRUCHT Smegma! -– Why, sure thing. Publius Smegma. That I go along with.
PRINCE FERDINAND Ah. You’re far from home, my good man.
BRUCHT University let me out for gut behavior.
PRINCE FERDINAND On sabbatical, eh?
BRUCHT On what ...?
PRINCE FERDINAND Odd. I thought Smegma had run afoul of the church. Drawn and quartered, set on fire. That whole bit.
BRUCHT Oh, no. I saw Publius in a ditch just the other -– I mean, I’ve been laying low, watching my peas und carrots.
PRINCE FERDINAND Well, well. Publius Excretus Smegma.
BRUCHT Ich bin hier!
PRINCE FERDINAND Teacher of radical thinking.
BRUCHT What?
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PRINCE FERDINAND Instigator.
BRUCHT Who, Your Grace?
PRINCE FERDINAND Spy. Insurgent. Inciter of plots and rebellion ...
BRUCHT I only teach simple things –- Always friendly ...
PRINCE FERDINAND Malicious gossip. Slander. Incendiary tirades. -- Treason.
BRUCHT No, no, innocent, harmless -- “Nice weather we’re having”? “I’m afraid baby’s got the colic.” “Thank God it’s not the plague” --
PRINCE FERDINAND (pointedly) Liberal.
BRUCHT Conservative, Herr Prince. Medieval. Not one fresh thought in my noggin.
PRINCE FERDINAND I had a liberal education. Plato and the classics. Copernicus, Erasmus, all the forward thinkers.
BRUCHT Is that so?
PRINCE FERDINAND Can’t live in the past, can we, Professor?
BRUCHT We can’t?
PRINCE FERDINAND Change is part of the natural order of things. You agree, of course.
BRUCHT Ja, ja, of course. I have always said it.
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PRINCE FERDINAND Stick up for our beliefs. To the death.
BRUCHT Whose death?
PRINCE FERDINAND Speaking rhetorically.
BRUCHT I speak gutes Deutsch?
PRINCE FERDINAND I’ve been speaking with the local burghers. Talk about a conservative lot! My God, what a bunch of stiffs.
BRUCHT shrugs; smiles.
PRINCE FERDINAND You know what strikes me most? They all look alike. Act alike. Talk alike. Can’t tell one from the other alike. They’re all shapeless, pasty-faced, fat globs of greed. No esprit de bonne compagnie.
BRUCHT picks his nose.
PRINCE FERDINAND No love of life. Slugs. Do you know, my dear professor, what they had the effrontery to serve me when I came to call?
BRUCHT shakes his head, anticipating something outrageous.
PRINCE FERDINAND Me, their guest; me, their liege lord?
BRUCHT trembles.
PRINCE FERDINAND Tea. Tea! Weak, tepid tea. Shameful.
BRUCHT Shameful.
PRINCE FERDINAND Visit the poorest woodcutter in Thuringia ...
43
BRUCHT Ja, you can visit him.
PRINCE FERDINAND He’ll pop the cork on the best vintage in his humble abode. Might have been saving it for his daughter’s wedding. -- Tea! Tightfisted, teabagging, heartless leeches. Thank God, we’re all good liberals here, eh, Professor?
BRUCHT Thank God for that.
PRINCE FERDINAND So, tell me about this nun.
BRUCHT Nun?
PRINCE FERDINAND I hear she’s quite the fetching lass. I know that you know her. Ah ha! You’re blushing. Fancy her, do you? Confess. Confess.
BRUCHT She is quite ... quite ... quite, Herr Prince.
PRINCE FERDINAND Mischievous little minx, playing her little games, eh?
BRUCHT (smirks) Much to your highness’s distress.
PRINCE FERDINAND (laughs) Oh, you’ve heard about that, have you?
BRUCHT Oh, the usual ...
PRINCE FERDINAND I must admit, quite amusing. I was entertaining the head burgher of Ausschlag. -- Damn me, but I think the fellow has even got himself elected mayor. -- Of course, I was not so stingy with my hospitality as he had been with his. In consequence of which, he was in great need to relieve himself. I even allowed him the use of my personal privy. I dare say, what a trick your naughty nun served him.
44
BRUCHT Ho ho ho! So it was ... ha ha ha! this burgher fellow that was in your shithouse when ... hee hee hee ho ho ho ha ha ha!
PRINCE FERDINAND Serves him right for deigning to serve me tea.
BRUCHT What a good joke that was.
PRINCE FERDINAND Yes, wasn’t it? -- Are you in the habit of consorting with rebels?
BRUCHT Rebels! Who do you mean, Herr Prince?
PRINCE FERDINAND Certain elements, liberal elements, who are opposed to the current distribution of power. Like our friend, the nun.
BRUCHT Entschuldigen Sie, My Prince, I am stranger to these parts.
PRINCE FERDINAND Yes, you’ve told me. You’re a tinker, scouring the countryside for pots to mend.
BRUCHT A scholar, My Lord, remember? Publius Smegma? I do that sabbatical thing you were talking about. Living my life in a big tower, thinking up thoughts, turning gold into lead ... Little contact have I with outside people or the understanding of day-to-day doings.
PRINCE FERDINAND That is to say, as an erudite ignoramus, you see nothing, hear nothing, know nothing –- at least, nothing that you choose to convey.
BRUCHT Ja, Your Grace, I mean, no, Your Grace. I mean ... it depends, Your Grace.
PRINCE FERDINAND On?
BRUCHT What were we talking about?
PRINCE FERDINAND No fool thou, eh, Professor?
45
BRUCHT Nein. At least, I hope not.
PRINCE FERDINAND Quite right. -- And where did you say I might find our friend, the forward thinking sister of the cloth?
BRUCHT She’ll return by und by.
PRINCE FERDINAND Not privy to her comings and goings?
The PRINCE laughs. BRUCHT doesn’t get the reference.
PRINCE FERDINAND Privy. Ha? What a mess that was!
BRUCHT Funny thing is, the nun thought it was you who gone to der shitter was.
PRINCE FERDINAND Did she now? What a scamp. (He laughs.)
BRUCHT But der Mayor von AusSchhh ... Ausss ...?
PRINCE FERDINAND Poetic justice. Tea. Imagine?
BRUCHT Never trust those guys.
PRINCE FERDINAND Oh, yes. I see through them totally. I’m quite sympathetic towards the peasant. Without the sturdy peasant, who would grow our daily bread? Who would press our daily wine?
BRUCHT Not a bunch of fellas drinking tea, I bet.
PRINCE FERDINAND Mind you, they have the good stuff. They offer their tea to others.
46
BRUCHT They get theirs one of these days.
PRINCE FERDINAND Yes ... So, I’ve received our friend’s, the nun’s, missives. And hundreds of others besides, each with its own demands, many of them vague, many others contradictory, many downright confusing, but all of which, I am sure, addressing grievances that I would only be too happy to redress.
BRUCHT looks blank.
PRINCE FERDINAND You see my dilemma.
BRUCHT Ja, sure. -- What, My Lord?
PRINCE FERDINAND The need to consolidate their multitudinous demands and to authorize one person to parley on behalf of all malcontents -– I mean, the unjustly put upon peasants.
BRUCHT I see what you seeing.
PRINCE FERDINAND How would you say? Quite the conundrum, eh, Professor? And what with the majority of my forces off helping the Emperor suppress those rascally Turks, I’m left far too shorthanded at present to contact each and every unhappy peasant.
BRUCHT What a mess.
PRINCE FERDINAND But this nun –- What’s her name?
BRUCHT Uh ... Oh. Sister Beatitude?
The PRINCE produces a scroll from a hinged compartment in his armor.
PRINCE FERDINAND (writing) Sister Be – at – i - tude.
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BRUCHT They’ll be sehr grateful. -- The peasants.
PRINCE FERDINAND I’m sure. Lovely, charming girl. Well, I thought that being such a close neighbor, living as she does in this church...?
BRUCHT Ja. I think so. Now und then.
PRINCE FERDINAND That she might convey my good will and assurances to the mob as a whole. And in this way we might avoid any further unpleasantries until my soldiers return and we can get this matter properly resolved. Do you know of any reliable means of contacting the lady?
BRUCHT No one is more reliable than Brucht!
PRINCE FERDINAND Brucht?
BRUCHT Oh! Uh, this guy I met once. But other than him, you can best count on me.
PRINCE FERDINAND Excellent, Professor Smegma. By the way, you haven’t seen an old friend of mine about, have you?
BRUCHT Old friend? Who ist das?
PRINCE FERDINAND The Bishop of Talberg?
BRUCHT A bishop? No. No bishop that I’ve seen.
PRINCE FERDINAND A humble man. A bit eccentric. Has the habit of dressing up as a common ordinary priest when he goes abroad.
BRUCHT Why would he do such thing?
PRINCE FERDINAND Averse to flaunting his affluence. Humility, you see. I’m sure others there are that feel
48
much the same.
The PRINCE looks pointedly at BRUCHT’s horse costume. BRUCHT reddens.
PRINCE FERDINAND Well, I must be off. –- Hmm, I am rather parched ...
BRUCHT Ah. Huh. Something to drink?
PRINCE FERDINAND You’re not going to offer me tea, are you?
BRUCHT Did you want tea?
PRINCE FERDINAND Ha ha. Just kidding. Good fellow. Staunch liberals we, eh?
BRUCHT Staunch liberals.
BRUCHT fetches a tankard from the crates nearby, spits in it, and wipes it out with a dirty rag.
BRUCHT Coming right up, Herr Prince.
The PRINCE stops next to the make-shift crib and ponders the Jesus icon. He crosses himself.
BRUCHT tries to draw beer from the tapped keg. Nothing comes out.
BRUCHT Not to worry ...
He twists the tap from the keg, picks up the mallet, and taps the second keg. A dark powder overflows his cup and feet.
The PRINCE peers over BRUCHT’s shoulder.
PRINCE FERDINAND Oh, dear.
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(turns away; strolls about) You know what I’m really in the mood for? These old churches are known for their wine cellars. In the good old days, one could always count on a delicious Räuschling, say, or a Clebroit-Wyngart.
BRUCHT (looking about for a clue) Ah. Wine cellar, wine cellar.
PRINCE FERDINAND Wine. Cellar.
The PRINCE stops and suddenly stamps his foot. The trapdoor springs open.
PRINCE FERDINAND Hope springs eternal, eh, Professor? Eureka. Ah, what have we here? Be a good fellow, would you, and fetch me that chain hanging just below the lip.
BRUCHT walks over to the open pit and bends to look inside.
PRINCE FERDINAND Just there. That’s a good fellow.
The PRINCE kicks him in the ass. BRUCHT splays next to the pit.
PRINCE FERDINAND Ah, yes. I’m sure you can reach it now.
BRUCHT reaches into the trap, feeling about with his hand, all but falling in.
PRINCE FERDINAND Careful. Careful. A little to your left. Left. Left. Ah!
BRUCHT seizes the end of the chain and flops over on his back, breathing heavily. The PRINCE takes the chain end from BRUCHT’s outstretched hand.
PRINCE FERDINAND Splendid.
BRUCHT rolls away from the trap.
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The PRINCE gives a mighty tug and out pops the skeleton, dangling in mid-air. The PRINCE secures the chain on a nail.
The PRINCE steps up to the skeleton, staring into its eyeless sockets, and sighs sadly.
PRINCE FERDINAND Hello, Liebling.
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
The chancel is as it was before except that no one is onstage, most of the logs are now gone, the trap is closed, and the skeleton is no longer present.
BRUCHT, followed by OLGATHA, enters from the door leading from the priest’s inner chambers.
BRUCHT Ich bin müde.
OLGATHA Where are you going?
BRUCHT I am tired!
OLGATHA Tired?
BRUCHT Tired.
OLGATHA Of what have you to be tired?
BRUCHT You chop up logs mit a sword.
OLGATHA Make do with tools we have.
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BRUCHT Ja, danke, und Sister Beatitude ist pissed.
OLGATHA Good. Spoiled, little, dirty-mouthed nun-princess, play-acting as revolutionary defender of poor people.
BRUCHT She do gut things for people.
OLGATHA Ha!
BRUCHT Sure. The people have nothing und the rich people have alles. What is there ‘ha’ in that?
OLGATHA There is ‘ha’ in you being idiot.
BRUCHT Again with the idiot!
OLGATHA You want to be idiot person? Is what’s outside. Mad dogs bite own tails. -- Here. You want to be hero? Fix hole in roof.
BRUCHT Argh! I am marauder –- not a ... not a ...
OLGATHA Man.
BRUCHT Freeze my nutsacks off in this place!
OLGATHA Oh, you do have nutsacks, then?
BRUCHT Ja! -- Not so sure anymore.
OLGATHA pats him on the scrotum. He twinges; gives her an angry look.
OLGATHA Still there. Thaw out in spring.
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BRUCHT (shivering) All the books in the priest’s room. Gone.
OLGATHA We couldn’t have burned them all.
BRUCHT Ja, we could. Look at the fire.
OLGATHA Da, look at fire.
BRUCHT No, you look at the fire!
OLGATHA Not much fire left, Brucht.
BRUCHT Brucht, feed the fire. Brucht, board up the holes. Brucht, the fire ist going out. Brucht, Brucht, Brucht, Brucht. Fire ist always hungry. I consumed am mit this fire. Enough.
OLGATHA Poor baby.
BRUCHT Why? Why? Why? What’s the point?
OLGATHA Yap yap yap! Scratch your fleas. Bird flies away.
BRUCHT So what do I burn when logs are gone?
OLGATHA Those crates.
BRUCHT Then what? This? (He points at the pew.)
OLGATHA Niet. Need for home.
BRUCHT seizes the Christ icon by the neck.
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BRUCHT Then what about this!
OLGATHA (bloodcurdling scream) No!
She tears Christ out of his hands and holds it to her breast, ready to tear BRUCHT limb from limb.
BRUCHT Wood! (He knocks on the pew.) Wood! Not baby! Not flesh und blood!
OLGATHA You crazy!
BRUCHT You crazy!
OLGATHA Be useful, first time in your pitiful life!
BRUCHT Home! Frostbite! Wooden babies! I am crazy! What am I doing here?
OLGATHA What are you doing here?!
BRUCHT Work! What is this work?
OLGATHA Leave! Go!
BRUCHT Marauders don’t work!
OLGATHA Cowards have no place here!
BRUCHT There is big revolution happening! Big things! Important things! -- You know who I just talk to? -- Ah, this is such a fucking waste!
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They defiantly stare at one another.
OLGATHA You want to maraud her, don’t you?
She gives him a sad look of contempt, turns, and tucks the Christ icon back into the crib.
OLGATHA (without giving him a look) I have work to do.
She exits to outside.
BRUCHT burns with frustration. Suddenly, he erupts, kicking the pew, the crates, and the scaffold. His kicking the stones encircling the campfire, however, cuts short his rampage, reducing him to hobbling about the chancel in pain.
BRUCHT Gott verdammt!
He sits next to the altar, nursing his foot, when his eyes alight upon the Christ.
BRUCHT (glowers at the icon) You. This is all your fault.
Trembling with rage mixed with fear, BRUCHT tramps up to the icon.
BRUCHT Jesus Boris Christ. Papist idolatry. You are not Christ. You are not baby. You are piece of wood! (His voice thickens.) You know what we do mit wood? Argh! (He snaps off Christ’s left arm over his knee.) We burn wood. (tosses the arm into the fire) We turn poplar to ash und from you turning black, we get light; from light, we get heat; from heat, we cook food; from cook food, we eat; from eat, we survive; from survive, we live; from live, we make home. -- Home?! Bah!
Spooked by what he has done and fearing dire
55
consequences, BRUCHT rushes to the fire. He throws the icon down -- but gasps when he sees Christ’s neck snap against the stones encircling the fire and its head roll into the flames.
BRUCHT Ah!
Unseen by BRUCHT, SISTER BEATITUDE appears from outdoors in the entryway and watches horrified.
BRUCHT lunges to retrieve the smoldering arm. Burning his fingers, he drops the arm out of the fire; he waves his fingers and sucks on them. He uses the long tail of his horse outfit to pick up the arm and tries frantically to swat the head free of the fire. Finally, he succeeds and the head scuttles across the floor. He drops the arm to give chase, not noticing that he has dropped it back into the fire.
BRUCHT Halt! Boris! Kommst du zuruckt! (He picks up the head, blows on it, smothers it in the fabric of his horse outfit.) Little Boris, it is I, Uncle Brucht. We were just playing, ja? Fun game of burning things–- (turns and sees the arm on fire) Ach, mein Gott! (rushes to the fire, sets down the head, and snatches out the arm, flipping it back and forth between hands) That woman. That horrible woman. She will me gut like ein fettes schwein! Ach! (He groans.) My soul is verdammt! Mein body shall all der nastiness suffer that woman can devise! Oh, Boris, save me -- I mean -- Jesus. Jesus -- Boris, how can I get out from this mess?
BRUCHT sets down the relics, retrieves the mallet and some nails from a crate, picks up Jesus’ maimed body, and sits down with it next to the body parts.
BRUCHT (patting the headless torso) Hey, buddy. Everything gut. Here. I will –- how does Publius say –- make resol-tution or deconstruction or extradition ... See? Not all is lost. (Holds up the charred arm. Does a double
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take: The hand and wrist have burned off as has some of the upper bicep.) That arm there, that arm there might not be so gut for you now. Es ist der left arm anyhow. Left arm ist der devil’s arm. We maybe just put that over there und whatever the devil want to do mit it, we don’t get in his way, ja? What do you say? But here ... (Picks up the head; gets another shock: The nose is gone; the head is scorched.) What a handsome fellow. Your mama almost not know you, you so handsome. (looks miserably at the relics)
SISTER BEATITUDE drifts up from behind.
SISTER BEATITUDE Grüss Gott, mein Herr.
Startled, BRUCHT fumbles the head.
SISTER BEATITUDE scoops it up.
SISTER BEATITUDE (to the head) Fucking Christ! You look like hell, Bubi.
BRUCHT (with false levity) Poor Boris has lost his head.
SISTER BEATITUDE That sucks. So many do these days.
BRUCHT snatches the head back.
BRUCHT We just do a little redoing here.
SISTER BEATITUDE Sehr, sehr, sehr fucked up, mein Freund.
BRUCHT Don’t worry. I make as gut as brand new. I been sculptor ten years. Six. More years than you’ve had tits.
SISTER BEATITUDE Was that a personal remark? I think Herr Brucht has a personal remark made. You feeling naughty, Herr Brucht?
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Despite the nun’s raillery, BRUCHT drives a nail through the neck into the collar bone of the statue. The neck splits somewhat, but the head at least is again attached to the body. It is horribly disfigured, drooping, and forlorn.
BRUCHT (with false cheerfulness) Perfect.
SISTER BEATITUDE Perfect.
BRUCHT Es ist gut, ja?
SISTER BEATITUDE Oh, ja.
BRUCHT Ja?
SISTER BEATITUDE Ja, ja. Fuck, ja.
BRUCHT That woman think I know nothing, gut at nothing.
SISTER BEATITUDE You mean the Slav bitch?
BRUCHT But I show her. I fix it right up.
SISTER BEATITUDE Better than new. She won’t be able to tell the difference.
BRUCHT You want problem solved, come to Brucht. I was most chief high head noodle to the mayor of –- the elector of -– the Emperor himself, when he was still in his right mind.
SISTER BEATITUDE Think of that! Und us mit so many problems.
BRUCHT Pff! What problems could a silly, little girl like you have?
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SISTER BEATITUDE Oh, you wouldn’t think it, but mit this revolution of ours -- Ach, mein liebe Gott! -- Everyone has different ideas! The Waldo peasants from Westphalia, for instance -- Their battle cry: “Jesu ist king!” Whereas the Zwinglian peasants von Heidelberg march into battle chanting, “Jesus ist our salvation.” The Muenzerian folk von Mittelswittel holler, “Jesus ist der son of God.” Und even a few Anabaptists there are von Gräuber what shout, “Jesus ist love.” -– No one can agree which battle cry the revolution should adopt! Es ist all we can do to keep them from stabbing one another.
BRUCHT Ist das alles?
SISTER BEATITUDE Ist das alles?! The whole revolution ist falling apart!
BRUCHT When there ist no problem then there ist no problem ist what I always say. Hören Sie. Start the battle cry mit “Jesus ist” und, in the order of lots drawn, add “our salvation, king, son of God”; or “our king, salvation, und son of God”; or “son of God, not to mention king und our salvation.”
SISTER BEATITUDE Brilliant! But what about “Jesus ist love”?
BRUCHT Who say that?
SISTER BEATITUDE The Anabaptists. -- Nobody likes them very much.
BRUCHT Well, then, have the Westphalians, Heidelbergians, und Mittelwittlians fall on the Anabaptists und beat them. Works out the aggression; everybody happy.
SISTER BEATITUDE Another Solomon!
BRUCHT I am der solutions Meister.
SISTER BEATITUDE We must have you as our leader! Our general! Success of der revolution depends on it!
BRUCHT (dreamily) “Our leader” ... “Our general” ...
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SISTER BEATITUDE You will ride on a big horse.
BRUCHT Not too big?
SISTER BEATITUDE No, just right size, so if you fall off you won’t hurt yourself. You will wield a mighty sword. Und you will cast the aristocrats into oblivion! -- Hurrah! Up the Bundschuh!
BRUCHT Und a proper uniform, ja?
SISTER BEATITUDE Your name -- Your fame -- will be on everybody’s lips. Both upper und lower. Brucht the Magnificent! Brucht the Terrible! Brucht the maraudinist marauder that ever there was! Even What’s-his-name -- the Emperor of der whole fucking Holy Roman Empire -- will fall at your feet und weep. -- Und if you do this little thing for little bitty me, I will play a sweet song on your flute.
BRUCHT Play on my ... my ... what?
SISTER BEATITUDE whispers in his ear. BRUCHT blushes and grins.
BRUCHT Es ist mein destiny!
SISTER BEATITUDE But first you must address the rabble. You must prepare to fight.
BRUCHT Fight? Who?
SISTER BEATITUDE Der Prince. Und their lackeys, the merchants, the teabaggers.
BRUCHT How do I do those things?
SISTER BEATITUDE Inspiration won’t forsake you. God will guide you. God defends the right!
BRUCHT Und you will play song on my ...?
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SISTER BEATITUDE God defend the Brucht!
BLACKOUT
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ACT II
LIGHTS UP
The PRINCE is looking down on the mutilated Christ icon.
PRINCE FERDINAND Father, they know what they do ... but ignorance is no excuse.
The PRINCE picks up Christ gently in his arms and bears it to the cross from which BRUCHT freed it. He lays the icon on the cross and takes up the mallet and some nails.
PRINCE FERDINAND In nomine patris ...
He nails Christ’s right hand to the cross. He then stoops and kisses the palm of the hand.
PRINCE FERDINAND Et Filii ...
He nails Christ’s ankles to the cross; stoops and kisses where the nail is driven.
PRINCE FERDINAND Et Spiritus Sancti ...
He nails Christ’s neck to the cross; stoops and kisses Christ on the lips.
PRINCE FERDINAND Amen. (He stands.) By the Blessèd Virgin, I, thy true knight, swear –-
BRUCHT enters from the priest’s chambers whistling “I’m a Fine Fella.”
PRINCE FERDINAND Good day, Professor.
BRUCHT Aiyiyi! -- Oh, Your Highness. Forgive me.
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PRINCE FERDINAND Lost in your ruminations, I see.
BRUCHT Ja, all the time. You need ruminations, come see Brucht –- er, Publius. No one gots as gut ruminations what I got.
PRINCE FERDINAND Ah. (beat) And what of our friend, Sister Beatitude? Still rousing the rabble?
BRUCHT Everyone getting together.
PRINCE FERDINAND Oh, goody. Here?
BRUCHT Still trying to make up their mind.
PRINCE FERDINAND Not their strong suit. They find a leader yet?
BRUCHT Oh, ja. The bravest, handsomest, smartest marauder that ever there was.
PRINCE FERDINAND Pray tell.
BRUCHT A fierce marauder. Name of Brucht.
PRINCE FERDINAND Brucht?
BRUCHT Brucht. I have met the guy. Shows no mercy. So bloodthirsty, you wouldn’t believe it.
PRINCE FERDINAND Interesting. (beckoning) Lend a hand, would you?
BRUCHT Your Grace?
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PRINCE FERDINAND (pointing to the crucifix) This objet d'art has come dislodged from the wall.
BRUCHT This is a papist symbol, Herr Prince.
PRINCE FERDINAND All the more reason to move it. Don’t want good Protestants tripping over it, do we?
BRUCHT Gut point, Your Grace.
PRINCE FERDINAND We’ll want it well out of the way. Put your back into it.
BRUCHT struggles by himself to raise the crucifix to his shoulder.
PRINCE FERDINAND So, this Brucht fellow, is he willing to come to terms?
BRUCHT (supporting the crucifix with difficulty) I very much doubt it.
PRINCE FERDINAND Obdurate fellow, eh? -- Back wall, I think.
BRUCHT With my own eyes, I have seen him burn all the books in the church as if they were so many damned souls.
PRINCE FERDINAND The devil, you say?
BRUCHT I could no more reason with him than with a brick.
PRINCE FERDINAND Take heart, my learnèd friend. -- A little to the left. Too much. -- As brother of the Emperor -- Now to the right – I have access to numerous book collections throughout the German states. I can requisition whatever you desire.
BRUCHT Oh, ja? That would be gut.
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BRUCHT has placed the cross at the back wall. The PRINCE steadies it.
PRINCE FERDINAND Anything to advance learning. -- Now, down on your knees. All fours. There we go. Keep it steady.
In full armor, the PRINCE steps onto BRUCHT’s back. BRUCHT moans.
PRINCE FERDINAND Steady. -- And whatever you want multiple copies of, the printing press can supply. Lift up.
BRUCHT Ja. Could. Always. Use. More. --
PRINCE FERDINAND Up! Little higher.
BRUCHT -- Kindling!
PRINCE FERDINAND There.
The PRINCE pounds a spike into the wall; secures the crucifix to it, via a wire looped about Christ’s neck and twisted about the spike.
PRINCE FERDINAND (aside to the Christ icon) May your greater suffering expiate my greater sins. (to BRUCHT) Don’t worry your noodle about literature; we have unhappy peasants to mollify.
BRUCHT (grunts) So. We. Done. Here?
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
SISTER BEATITUDE leads OLGATHA, who is blindfolded, through the audience to the stage.
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SISTER BEATITUDE (to OLGATHA) See, Olgatha, I’m not so bad. (aside) Verhurtes Drecksgör. (to OLGATHA) Just a little further.
OLGATHA This better be good as you promise.
SISTER BEATITUDE You won’t believe your eyes!
OLGATHA Well, Sister Beatitude ... I sorry we step on wrong foots.
SISTER BEATITUDE Wasser unter der bridge, dear Olgatha. We’re on the right foot now. (under her breath) Zeig mir deine Pflaume, Muschi Lecker.
SISTER BEATITUDE stops and gasps to see Christ back on its cross on the wall.
SISTER BEATITUDE Holy Mother of God! (shaken but right back with the program) Und now, Olgatha, my dear, as we promised ... (whips blindfold from OLGATHA’s eyes) Surprise!
OLGATHA falls to her knees, shrieks, and faints at the sight of Boris burnt and crucified.
SISTER BEATITUDE (laughs) Ha ha, fucking Slav whore. (glances uneasily at the crucifix on the wall) What der fuck?
SISTER BEATITUDE kneels before the crucifix and crosses herself.
SISTER BEATITUDE A miracle.
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SISTER BEATITUDE rouses herself. She seizes OLGATHA by the wrists and drags her towards the exit leading outside.
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
BRUCHT, wearing a grubby sash diagonally across his chest and a beard made from his shorn horse’s tail, tries on several hats and strikes various “heroic” poses. One hat, simulating a helmet, is a perforated old metal pot sporting a chicken feather. Another is a bishop’s miter with dented crown. A third, a mangy boar’s head.
BRUCHT (sings) OVER DELL UND DIDDLE DALE, OH, HEY, GERTA, AWAY WE GO. ON MY HOOK I CAUGHT A WHALE, I’M OFF TO THE NEW WORLD, HEY HO -- (spoken) Hearken, varlets. It ist I, Brucht the Gross’, come to save your pitiful skins. (sings) TWO HEADS HAD HE BUT JUST ONE HAT, OH, HEY, GERTA, AWAY WE GO. CUT ONE HEAD OFF TAKES CARE OF THAT I’M OFF TO THE NEW WORLD, HEY HO! (spoken; fluffing his “beard”) Hoo hoo! Never gonna see through this disguise! (sings) NOT ONE GUILDER TO MY PURSE, OH, HEY, GERTA, AWAY WE GO. BUT BY SPENDING YOURS, I’M NONE THE WORSE, I’M OFF TO THE --
Sound of OLGATHA wailing outdoors.
BRUCHT Ach, mein Gott. What a noise.
Covered in pig mire, OLGATHA bursts through the door from outside. She is as one possessed, keening, wringing her hands, and tearing her hair. She passes BRUCHT as if he were invisible and flings herself
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at the feet of the crucified Boris.
BRUCHT Ach, mein liebe Gott! What a stink ist stunk there!
OLGATHA Murder! M’ertve! Smert! Buttons gone. Holes deep. Blood will out. Blood. Blood. Rivers of blood!
BRUCHT Maybe you don’t recognize me. It is I, Brucht.
OLGATHA (rolling on the ground) Blood on fire. Can’t hold back; won’t hold in. Burn flesh. Burn eyes. Burn world. Katastr’ofa. Burn Hellfire, burn! N’ede. N’eche. N’eko. Nik’o. Nikud’a. Nich’e.
BRUCHT Beg as you will, throw your body at me, I am done mit that working stuff.
OLGATHA (arching her back) Wakawaka garl geemey goopa goopa grrrip nahnahnahnahnahnah-nah blug blug a gug gug gooptie do do da da doo. Rrrup. Rrrrup. Rrrrup. (flattens and sings trancelike) LITTLE LITTLE BABY, ONE TWO THREE, FOUR FIVE SIX, SEVEN EIGHT NINE. TOSS UP BABY WAY UP INTO SKY -- HIGH UP, HIGH UP INTO SHINY STARS. PRETTY PRETTY POINTY STARS, DON’T YOU AGREE THAT BABY, LITTLE LITTLE LITTLE LITTLE BABY, BABY COME DOWN DOWN DOWN DOWN? (spoken) See chicken on roof?
BRUCHT (sucks in breath) Gut genug.
BRUCHT grabs his hats and eases towards the priest’s chambers.
OLGATHA (distant, but lucid) Why?
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BRUCHT (caught) What?!
OLGATHA This thing you let happen.
BRUCHT Verzeihen Sie, bitte, I have an army to speak to, battle plans zu machen ...
OLGATHA (going up to BRUCHT) Why let daughter of Satan torture our baby?
BRUCHT Our baby?
OLGATHA Oh, my God! -– Crucify him.
BRUCHT Well, I have very, uh, busy been, with the wars und uh --
OLGATHA Make him suffer. Take away his life. His innocent life. He do no harm. He was threat to no one. (running her fingers through his beard, looking at it quizzically) How people do such things?
BRUCHT I don’t think Boris he suffered all so much.
OLGATHA Look at him.
BRUCHT Woman ...
OLGATHA Look! He is dead. M`ertve.
BRUCHT People change. Even wooden, grown-up baby people mit beards und diapers.
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OLGATHA You don’t care.
BRUCHT Woman, I have a revolution to run.
OLGATHA Family mean nothing? You nothing.
BRUCHT Look. In your head, if Boris is alive, he is alive. You done it before. You think so, it is so.
OLGATHA Some beliefs don’t grow green again.
BRUCHT Different people, different beliefs –- yellow, blue, pink ...
A palpable gulf lies between them. SISTER BEATITUDE enters from outdoors with an unlit cigar in her mouth.
SISTER BEATITUDE Pee-you. I smell pig shit. -- No, not pig shit. What is it, Herr Brucht? Smells like a fucking Slav’s cunt.
BRUCHT I think ... I think I must go now.
SISTER BEATITUDE Commander. Halt. We have important things to discuss.
OLGATHA walks up to SISTER BEATITUDE.
OLGATHA (quietly to SISTER BEATITUDE) Thank you for Aryan beauty treatment, but becomes more better Germans than Slavs.
SISTER BEATITUDE sneers.
OLGATHA (quietly to SISTER BEATITUDE) I will wash my body. Wash away grime and crime and gore and stink. I will anoint my body with oil and perfume of righteousness. I will proof my body against tears. I will stock my heart with spears and swords and knives. I will shield my eyes from pity and inflame them with hate. Compare to this, your many enemies will be no more than fruit
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flies on vegetable.
OLGATHA calmly exits through the audience.
SISTER BEATITUDE (soberly) Freezing in here. -- Commander Brucht, heat this fucking place! The peasants rally to treat mit der fuckhead Prince und his minority of rich guys. If der Prince catches cold, he will blame it on the peasants -- like always.
BRUCHT goes to the powder barrel.
SISTER BEATITUDE (intercepting) What are you doing!
BRUCHT Uhhh ... Vielleicht, these remaining crates then?
SISTER BEATITUDE (sitting on the pew) Brilliant strategy, Commander. -- What’s with the stupid horse tail on your face?
BRUCHT sheepishly takes off his fake beard, breaks up the remaining crates, and feeds them to the fire.
BRUCHT So der Prince is coming?
SISTER BEATITUDE So he says.
BRUCHT Und the peasants are coming?
SISTER BEATITUDE Many are already here.
BRUCHT Und you want me to meet with der Prince?
SISTER BEATITUDE Ja ... That is what we discussed.
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BRUCHT What am I to say?
SISTER BEATITUDE Tell him we demand what we fucking deserve.
BRUCHT What we deserve? Is that a gut idea?
SISTER BEATITUDE Why not?
BRUCHT shifts his weight uneasily back and forth.
SISTER BEATITUDE Look. We outnumber the nobles, ninety-nine to one. –- Er, nineteen to one, actual onsite combatants.
BRUCHT So, what you think Prince Ferdinand do?
SISTER BEATITUDE Lie, cheat, steal: the usual aristocratic bullshit.
BRUCHT Any dealbreakers on the table?
SISTER BEATITUDE Well, there ist this cute gown, like what the burgher bitches wear –- sehr expensive though.
BRUCHT But there are other concerns ...?
SISTER BEATITUDE (shrugs) Thousands of rebels, thousands of concerns.
BRUCHT Ja, but, such as ...?
SISTER BEATITUDE Such as, Dieter Schmidt wants reparation for his cow stolen by the fat Margrave of Bindenberg. While Franz Grübling wants no more tax to pay to Mayor of Ausschlag. He doesn’t even live in Ausschlag. Till Euermann wants to poach game on public lands without losing any more fingers, eyes, or nose. Everyone wants something.
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BRUCHT Thousands of different somethings.
SISTER BEATITUDE The Prince is fucking rich. He can afford it.
BRUCHT Then, ahem, you think, maybe, you know -- what we talk about?
SISTER BEATITUDE We don’t want to be too demanding. The weavers have upped their prices.
BRUCHT Old clothes, then?
SISTER BEATITUDE Look, we had a professor from Wittenberg write up a list.
BRUCHT Professor from Wittenberg?!
SISTER BEATITUDE Ja, we found him hiding in a goddamn ditch.
BRUCHT Und this Professor from Wittenberg, was he still wearing a kind of mud-colored jerkin und breeches, und a woolly coat?
SISTER BEATITUDE No, he was completely naked. That’s why we keep him in the dry well at the old nunnery.
BRUCHT (puzzled) Oh.
SISTER BEATITUDE Don’t worry; you’ll do fine.
BRUCHT Last of crates. Crates all gone.
SISTER BEATITUDE Then let’s really fucking heat things up. Order yourself, Commander Brucht, to plug that barrel mit this fuse here. (produces a fuse plug)
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BRUCHT This fuse?
SISTER BEATITUDE Ja, that fuse.
BRUCHT fits the plug into the hole in the barrel. He taps fuse with the mallet.
SISTER BEATITUDE Easy, Commander! Easy. Easy.
BRUCHT blinks in surprise.
BRUCHT You know, I think maybe I wear der helmet mit the visor down just in case things don’t go so gut.
SISTER BEATITUDE Don’t worry about that. We got a fucking backup plan that’ll knock his codpiece off.
BRUCHT Still, all the same ...
SISTER BEATITUDE (sweetly) Now Bruchtchen, remember what I promised?
BRUCHT What you say we have a pre-sample?
SISTER BEATITUDE Now now now. First, the victory und then the music. (aside, nearly gagging) I’d rather suck the eyeballs from a corpse.
BRUCHT starts to leave.
SISTER BEATITUDE Oh, Commander! Commander Brucht!
BRUCHT Ich bin hier.
SISTER BEATITUDE Be a good fellow; roll that barrel to the two guys outside, Hans und Willie.
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BRUCHT Hans und Willie.
SISTER BEATITUDE The ones mit rolls of tobacco stuck in their faces like the one they give me.
BRUCHT What you do mit this tobacco?
SISTER BEATITUDE Something to gnaw. Tastes fucking nasty, but a fad’s a fad. –- Put them in charge of the barrel.
BRUCHT Willie und Hans?
SISTER BEATITUDE Willie und Hans. Und tell them if all goes well, then that’s that. But if the fuckhead Prince tries to get out of giving us all that we deserve, then when he leaves this barn, chain him to the barrel, light the fuse, roll it down the hill, und duck behind a rock.
BRUCHT In that order?
SISTER BEATITUDE In that order.
BRUCHT tries to get it straight in his head.
SISTER BEATITUDE The barrel, Brucht?
BRUCHT Jawohl.
BRUCHT tips the barrel on its side, much to the alarm of SISTER BEATITUDE, and rolls it outside.
SISTER BEATITUDE (sings and capers about) THE ROYAL SHIT IS PISSED! THE ROYAL SHIT IS PISSED! HE SAT UPON THE JOHN! THEN WE CAME ALONG! WE LOVE TO PISS HIM OFF -- SO WE GOT, GIRL, WHAT WE WISHED.
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NOW THE ROYAL SHIT IS --
Suddenly, there is an explosion offstage.
SISTER BEATITUDE The bloody Prince! We’re being attacked!
SISTER BEATITUDE fumbles with her weapons.
SISTER BEATITUDE Lying bastard! -- “Peace, peace, love und kisses!” -- Bullshit! To arms! They attacking from der West! No der East! No, der West, der West! Guard the door! -- Oh? Wo ist Brucht? Brucht! Oh, who gives a fuck? (uncertain which door to guard)
BRUCHT, scorched head to foot with powder burns, stumbles into the church.
SISTER BEATITUDE Brucht!
BRUCHT Don’t think I take up latest fad.
SISTER BEATITUDE Was?
BRUCHT Tobacco ...
SISTER BEATITUDE Tobacco?
BRUCHT Supposed to set on fire und breathe in der smoke. That’s what Hans und Willie say. I give them der keg und they show me.
SISTER BEATITUDE Where are Hans und Willie now?
BRUCHT In der trees, on der roof, on der faces und shoulders of der peasants.
SISTER BEATITUDE So much for der backup plan.
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BRUCHT edges towards the exit.
SISTER BEATITUDE (to BRUCHT) Where you going?
BRUCHT I thought maybe I step outside for bit of fresh, gunpowder-filled air.
SISTER BEATITUDE Don’t get lost. Der fuckhead Prince is due soon und we counting on you to represent us at the accords.
BRUCHT Ja, represent, sure thing.
BRUCHT slinks out.
SISTER BEATITUDE (sardonically) Wunderbar.
SISTER BEATITUDE stares at the crucifix on the wall. She faces front, kneels, and crosses herself.
SISTER BEATITUDE Hail Mary, full of grace.
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
VOICES (offstage) (more or less in unison) Salvation ist Jesus’s son und king of God!
OLGATHA, dressed in bleached gunny sacks skillfully sewn together, enters from the audience. She heads to the door and peers outside.
OLGATHA crosses towards the priest’s chambers.
She stops. Looks at Boris on the wall.
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VOICES (offstage) (overlapping) Der Prince! Der Prince! Don’t shove. Can I have your autograph? Hurrah for der Prince! Make way for der Prince! Snooty bastard.
The PRINCE enters from outdoors, carrying a rolled up banner.
PRINCE FERDINAND (to OLGATHA) Am I early?
OLGATHA continues towards the sacristy, glances back at him, then exits.
PRINCE FERDINAND Righto. (stows the banner roll behind the scaffold)
VOICES (offstage) (overlapping) Here she is! What’s happening? Is it about to start? Will I be able to get home und milk the goat? We’re counting on you. Time for lunch yet? Hey, don’t take no shit from that guy! What’s going on?
SISTER BEATITUDE with her weapons slung over her shoulders enters from outside.
The PRINCE turns with a big smile, advances to SISTER BEATITUDE, and extends his gauntleted hand.
PRINCE FERDINAND Ah, you must be the celebrated nun.
SISTER BEATITUDE ignores his hand and folds her arms.
PRINCE FERDINAND (clasping his hands together) Très charmant.
SISTER BEATITUDE Knock off der horseshit. We gonna get down to it?
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PRINCE FERDINAND By all means. What of Herr Brucht? Will he be joining us?
SISTER BEATITUDE I’m afraid Herr Brucht has been called away on ... uh … urgent business.
PRINCE FERDINAND Ah?
SISTER BEATITUDE A shipment of gunpowder -– I mean, Bibles -- has come in fresh off the press.
PRINCE FERDINAND I thought I heard something on my way here. Testing out the Bibles, were we?
SISTER BEATITUDE I was chosen to speak on his behalf.
PRINCE FERDINAND (eyeing the girl dubiously) We will want to make sure that whatever is agreed upon today is legitimate.
SISTER BEATITUDE My ex scratches parchment as gut as his.
PRINCE FERDINAND Hmm. And I was so hoping to meet the great man. Well, I guess there is no help for it. (arranges himself comfortably on the pew) I have looked over your petition. It does go on a bit.
SISTER BEATITUDE We’ve trimmed the fat, Your Lordship. (clears her throat)
She lifts the skirts of her habit, plucks a scroll from a garter, and extends it towards the PRINCE.
PRINCE FERDINAND takes the scroll.
PRINCE FERDINAND Ah. (reading) “The Twelve Articles containing ...” -- Twelve! My word. Far more expedient than five hundred and thirty-seven, I must say.
OLGATHA marches in from the sacristy with a
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number of signs and kneels with them face down. All eyes stare at her.
SISTER BEATITUDE Ye-yes, My Lord.
PRINCE FERDINAND (picking up where he left off) “-- containing the grievances of His Highness Emperor What’s-his-name’s loyal subjects --” (stands) Yes, yes. Very well put and so on. I was especially taken by the adjectival usage of the present participle. However, I think it only fair for me to set forth the position postulated by our honest friends, the teabaggers, who are, I am afraid, much opposed to peasants rebelling against servitude, disrupting the collection of taxes, and burning pretty things not their own.
OLGATHA holds up a sign that depicts a balancing scale.
PRINCE FERDINAND (glances at the sign) Yes, quite. –- They, the merchants, the small landowners, the churchmen, the academes -- at least those with tenure -- in short, the bourgeoisie, being absent and thus not otherwise represented in today’s negotiations --
SISTER BEATITUDE Who gives a fuck what they want? They suck! What they want, they take. Now it is our turn!
The PRINCE holds up his hand for silence.
OLGATHA holds up another sign depicting a skull and crossbones.
SISTER BEATITUDE (turning on OLGATHA) Stay out of this, cow! (bringing the focus back) We have nothing. Nothing! Yet they will grind our bones for the very marrow!
PRINCE FERDINAND Patience. Give hearing and we shall weigh the justice of their claims.
Disgruntled, SISTER BEATITUDE takes a seat on the floor.
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The PRINCE removes a scroll from a compartment in his armor.
PRINCE FERDINAND Good. So let’s see what the respectable middle class has to say for itself.
The nun replies with a “raspberry.”
OLGATHA holds up the scales sign.
SISTER BEATITUDE gives her a dirty look.
PRINCE FERDINAND (reads) Ahem. “Item: Family standards. We value maintaining and promoting the ascendency of our families over the peasants. In so doing, we must provide comfort for our children and our children’s children. Luxuries, however, are expensive.”
OLGATHA holds up the skull and crossbones sign.
SISTER BEATITUDE waves at her to put it down.
PRINCE FERDINAND “Since the proletariat is the largest class, it is only right that they should bear the burden for our families’ comfort --” Mmm?
SISTER BEATITUDE Well ... that sounds reasonable.
PRINCE FERDINAND “Item: Freedom. Our freedom is best achieved by allowing us independence from a strong central government.”
OLGATHA holds up the scales sign, then the skull and crossbones.
PRINCE FERDINAND “We, of course, honor Emperor What’s-his-face -- but will not brook his interference in the lawful levying of taxes and conscription of goods to the full extent of our power as best suits our individual needs and desires.”
SISTER BEATITUDE (somewhat doubtfully) Well, as long as it’s lawful ...?
PRINCE FERDINAND “Item: Security. Our goods and chattels ...”
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OLGATHA holds up a sign with a crude drawing of a chicken.
PRINCE FERDINAND “... by which we have thrived through our just, prescient, and shrewd conduct of commerce, shall be protected from incursions by the covetousness of baser men.”
OLGATHA holds up a placard with a drawing of an old shoe.
SISTER BEATIUDE Not saying the fat burghers don’t make some gut points ...
PRINCE FERDINAND “Item: Freedom of Religion.”
OLGATHA holds up a sign with a drawing of a cute lamb.
SISTER BEATIUDE leaps to her feet.
PRINCE FERDINAND (a propos the sign) Ew.
OLGATHA holds up a sign featuring a detail from Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights.
SISTER BEATITUDE grumbles but sits down again at a sign from the PRINCE.
PRINCE FERDINAND Where were we? Ah. As regards religion: “All God-fearing men and women shall be free to worship God any way they choose so long as it’s in the Lutheran Church and in accordance with Lutheran doctrine. Otherwise, all heretical reprobates shall be consigned to fiery faggots and hellfire.”
SISTER BEATITUDE Nobody wants the hellfire. No, I agree mit that.
OLGATHA holds up three signs in a row: scales, skull and crossbones, and a mutilated Boris on the cross.
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SISTER BEATITUDE (standing; to OLGATHA) Leave it, Twatface!
PRINCE FERDINAND I applaud the enthusiasm of your people, but, really, can’t we show a little restraint?
OLGATHA puts down the Boris sign.
PRINCE FERDINAND “Item: Balance of power. It is necessary to maintain the current status of the classes so that we may enjoy the fruit of the lower classes’ labor, and only brook a change should it grant us, the rising middle class, more power.”
SISTER BEATITUDE All right, that one makes sense, but -- there are other ones that -- other ones that we don’t agree much with.
In quick succession, OLGATHA holds up three signs: skull and crossbones, scales, and the figure of a nun hanging from a scaffold.
With a roar, SISTER BEATITUDE draws her sword and rushes OLGATHA. OLGATHA deflects SISTER BEATITUDE’s sword with her sign and then whacks her with it, knocking her down. OLGATHA seizes SISTER BEATITUDE’s arquebus and aims it at her as the nun staggers to her feet.
OLGATHA Justice, freedom, and ginger snaps to buttons everywhere!
She fires; the arquebus explodes, knocking her down. She gapes at the two pieces in her hands.
PRINCE FERDINAND Interesting sentiment. (picks up hanged nun sign) Hm. Shows promise.
OLGATHA What did one peasant say to other peasant?
The PRINCE sets aside the sign and gallantly helps OLGATHA up.
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OLGATHA Have peasant day! I have more jokes if you like. You like blueberries? Watch out for chicken bites. Rain come soon.
PRINCE FERDINAND takes OLGATHA by the arm and forcefully leads her towards the outdoor exit.
PRINCE FERDINAND Come along, wretched harridan.
OLGATHA (to the PRINCE as he leads her) You look like horse’s ass. But you no Brucht.
At BRUCHT’s name, the PRINCE stops sharply.
OLGATHA If Brucht was here then Brucht here would be and world get put back together in pieces.
PRINCE FERDINAND On second thought, my good woman ...
The PRINCE does an about face and pulls OLGATHA to the sacristy door. As he opens it, she bites his hand.
PRINCE FERDINAND Bloody hell!
He bodily ejects her from the chancel and bolts the door.
PRINCE FERDINAND (to SISTER BEATITUDE) I appreciate the entertainment, but if we can get back to the business at hand ...
SISTER BEATITUDE curtseys curtly.
PRINCE FERDINAND (nursing his hand) So, I think we can find some common ground here. Not unreasonable demands, as you see.
SISTER BEATITUDE Yes, but the goddamn parasites have all the money! Cocksuckers. Raid our crops! Burn
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our homes! Steal our chickens! Raping und robbing! No one cares! Why don’t we have say in our own lives? Und what about my new gown? I don’t know why those fucking fat bitches get to wear all the fucking nice things.
The PRINCE holds up his good hand.
PRINCE FERDINAND I’m willing to make some concessions on the bourgeoisie’s behalf. In fact, I am willing to sign off on all twelve of your articles -– provided that all peasants relinquish their arms to me and disperse in good order to their homes.
SISTER BEATITUDE Where do I sign?
The PRINCE pulls out a document from his armor’s compartment and offers it and a pen to SISTER BEATITUDE, who takes them.
SISTER BEATITUDE So this says what you just said what it says, ja?
PRINCE FERDINAND You may rest assured.
SISTER BEATITUDE kneels and uses the pew when making her X; then hands the PRINCE the document and the pen.
PRINCE FERDINAND (to the nun) And your weapons?
SISTER BEATITUDE Und your signature, Herr Prince?
The PRINCE smiles; he indicates for her to bend over. SISTER BEATITUDE reluctantly complies and makes as a writing surface.
The PRINCE signs his full name with all of his many titles.
SISTER BEATITUDE (muttering as he signs) Verdammt du, du verdammter arschgefickter Hurensohn. Missgeburt. Drecksack. Kackbratze. Arschgesicht. So ein Beschiss. Was ein Schwanzlutscher. Leck mich am
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Arsch, Mutterficker. Der Teufel wird los sein. Verdammte Scheisse. Verpiss dich und fahr zur Holle.
The Prince ends his signature with a flourish.
PRINCE FERDINAND What a momentous occasion! Peace! Justice! The end of bloodshed! A new dawn for mankind, eh? -- No need to thank me.
The PRINCE rolls up the document and deposits it into his armor’s compartment.
PRINCE FERDINAND I’ll have my scribes make you a copy that you can pass on to your Herr Brucht in the morning.
SISTER BEATITUDE unslings her sword and drops it at the PRINCE’s feet.
SISTER BEATITUDE Herr Brucht? -- Oh, ja, of course, Herr Brucht.
She then retrieves the two pieces of her arquebus and tosses them on top of the sword.
PRINCE FERDINAND Once your people have surrendered their weapons, we have arranged for a little celebration in honor of the occasion.
SISTER BEATITUDE Hey, how about that! You’re not such a fucking Arschloch after all.
He bows.
The PRINCE shows SISTER BEATITUDE to the outdoor exit.
PRINCE FERDINAND My dear, if you would do me the kindness, tell the captain of my troops the joyous news. Direct him to distribute “the milk and cookies.”
SISTER BEATITUDE Oh, goody, I love milk und cookies! (exits)
Sound of cheering from offstage.
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The PRINCE whistles as he retrieves his banner roll from behind the scaffold. He fastens it to the front of the scaffold.
PRINCE FERDINAND (sings) OH, WHAT JOY IT IS TO SEE --
Sound of musket fire and screaming.
PRINCE FERDINAND shakes his head and smirks.
PRINCE FERDINAND THE WORLD IN PERFECT HARMONY. TO DEFEND THE WEAK, TO AID THE POOR …
As he sings, he releases the ties and the banner unfurls. It reads in big letters: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE BRUCHT 10,000 GUILDER REWARD
PRINCE FERDINAND THE NOBLE MAN CAN DO NO HO-HO-HO-HO-HO MORE.
He resumes whistling.
More screaming and escalating musket fire continues into and for a few beats after
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
High in the air, SISTER BEATITUDE dangles by the neck from the rafters.
BRUCHT stands looking up at her.
BRUCHT Das ist nicht gut.
Behind him on the scaffold is the banner -- which BRUCHT can’t read -- offering the reward for his death or capture.
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BRUCHT glances around; jogs downstage, looks off; jogs upstage; gazes about.
BRUCHT Olgatha!
BRUCHT trots about the stage, looking. He exits outdoors.
BRUCHT (offstage) Olgatha! Woman!
Silence.
A scream of fury from offstage. The PRINCE drags OLGATHA in from the sacristy and casts her to her knees facing the hanged nun. He draws his sword, placing it against the nape of her neck.
PRINCE FERDINAND Well now, recognize any traitors here?
OLGATHA Da, traitor what stands behind me.
PRINCE FERDINAND Ha ha. Nature would thank me for removing your head. On the other hand, this tree has room to bear more fruit. A sign to rebels everywhere that spring is nigh and pernicious rebellion, like the frost of winter, has melted away.
OLGATHA Coward! Murderer! Poet! May stones from floor rebel and strike you.
PRINCE FERDINAND At least you’re not whimpering for mercy. (glances up at the dead nun) By the way, what has become of your glorious leader, the marauder Brucht?
OLGATHA bursts into a bitter wail of laughter.
OLGATHA Oh ho, marauder, him? Pff. Another traitor.
PRINCE FERDINAND Come, come. A correct answer wins you your choice of death.
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OLGATHA Very generous. Is that button or lugnut that hold up your iron pants?
In a flash, OLGATHA unsheathes a misericorde from the PRINCE’s belt and strikes him at gut level.
OLGATHA Ha!
The blade glances off the armor.
The PRINCE backhands OLGATHA, who goes flying, the dagger skittering away from her fingers.
PRINCE FERDINAND Damn you! You’ve scratched my armor! I’m tired, mouse. Play is over. How my claws do itch.
As the PRINCE strides towards her, sword upraised, BRUCHT darts inside as if hiding from someone. He turns and beholds OLGATHA’s peril.
BRUCHT Ach, mein Gott!
The PRINCE turns to BRUCHT.
PRINCE FERDINAND Come in, come in, Professor. Won’t you join us?
OLGATHA jumps to her feet to run, but the PRINCE grabs her by the hair.
PRINCE FERDINAND Ah-ah.
The PRINCE twirls OLGATHA around and around as if in a dance; backs her up against the scaffold. With his free hand, he pulls taut a dangling scaffold rope, wraps it about her neck, and with a tug, lifts her onto her toes. Sheathing his sword, he takes the loose end of the rope hanging from her neck and secures her arms behind her back. OLGATHA struggles to stay on her toes and breathe.
BRUCHT frets, not sure what to do.
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BRUCHT Olgatha!
OLGATHA Brucht!
The PRINCE turns sharply to face BRUCHT.
PRINCE FERDINAND Why, Professor, you amaze me –- or should I say, Master Brucht? You shouldn’t have been so modest.
The PRINCE saunters up to BRUCHT, who falls to his knees.
BRUCHT Saint Dieter, Saint Peter, Saint Theresa Maria, Saint Gustave, Saint Paul!
PRINCE FERDINAND (mocking) Dancer and Prancer, Dasher and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, Donder and Blixen.
BRUCHT I … I … I thought you gonna make nice with peasants.
PRINCE FERDINAND I’m being nice. You should see me when I’m not.
BRUCHT But why?
PRINCE FERDINAND Professor Brucht, you’ve read Thomas a’ Kempis, yes?
BRUCHT shakes his head.
PRINCE FERDINAND Well, you’ve surely not neglected dear old Thomas More?
BRUCHT looks blank.
PRINCE FERDINAND (sighs) So I expect, old dullard, you’ve disregarded Signor Machiavelli as well.
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BRUCHT Please. I don’t want to be leader of the rebellion no more.
PRINCE FERDINAND There spake the dignity of man. (looking him over) Now don’t take this the wrong way, but your body, your physique, is a disgrace. To be frank, it’s a sorry piece of pus and gristle that even my hounds would refuse to eat. Before being allowed to leave, you must first ask for forgiveness for neglecting God’s image.
BRUCHT I’m sorry.
PRINCE FERDINAND No, no, no, no, no.
BRUCHT I’m very sorry?
PRINCE FERDINAND Not of me, dunderhead.
BRUCHT Who then?
PRINCE FERDINAND (frowning) Of whom? (in a whisper) Why, our Lord God and Image maker, of course. (full voice) Turn, miscreant pedagogue. Face the Lord, for he is thy salvation.
BRUCHT What?
The PRINCE sighs, then thwacks BRUCHT across the genitals with the flat of his blade. BRUCHT yowls and doubles over in pain.
PRINCE FERDINAND Slow learner. I’m disappointed in you, Professor, or should I say, “Master Marauder”?
Confused and frightened, BRUCHT looks up at the PRINCE. With his finger, the PRINCE indicates for BRUCHT to turn around and face Christ. BRUCHT
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does so.
PRINCE FERDINAND Pray, thou tainted speck of dust, pray to the Lord and His most Holy Virgin Mother to spare thy unworthy hide from the fires of iniquity.
BRUCHT Son of the Father und Mother und Nephew of the Aunt, hallow be thy name. Forgive me my sins as I have not meant to sin, but couldn’t help it because of der circumstances und bad guidance.
PRINCE FERDINAND Bare thy soul, sinner. Reveal thy true horse’s ass!
The PRINCE yanks the horse costume down, baring BRUCHT’s rump.
BRUCHT cringes behind the altar.
PRINCE FERDINAND Praise be to God. Prepare for the mortification of thy flesh.
The PRINCE tries to unlatch his iron codpiece, but it sticks.
PRINCE FERDINAND Confound it! (mutters) Hate when that happens.
BRUCHT scuttles between the PRINCE’s legs. He yanks the reward banner from the scaffold and wraps it once around the PRINCE’s head. As the PRINCE beats at the banner to free himself, BRUCHT scurries naked through the audience, yelling at the top of his lungs.
The PRINCE tosses the banner aside and prepares to give chase.
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP.
OLGATHA, alone, gasping, still bound by the scaffold rope, exhausted from struggling, but still
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managing to stay on her tip-toes.
A rope comes down from the open roof. A naked man, BRUCHT, descends to the upper scaffold plank. He looks down and sees OLGATHA still fighting off near strangulation.
BRUCHT Woman!
OLGATHA Good of you to come back.
BRUCHT I be right there –- I –- I’m not decent.
OLGATHA Is no problem. Why hurry? Modesty before breathing.
BRUCHT I … I –- What I do?
BRUCHT’s eyes alight on SISTER BEATITUDE’s hanging corpse.
BRUCHT Eine Minute.
He takes a crowbar lying on the scaffold plank and with it snags SISTER BEATITUDE’s leg.
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS UP
Same as before, except BRUCHT is now wearing the nun’s gown and SISTER BEATITUDE is left dangling in her wimple, skimpy chemise, stockings, and garters.
BRUCHT Sister, I’m sorry for you. Entschuldigen Sie, but the dead can know no shame und you are forsworn; your promise unkept. This is the least you can offer. (sighs) Schade. (tries to cross himself but gets it wrong)
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OLGATHA Is become tomorrow already.
BRUCHT (to OLGATHA) I coming!
OLGATHA I breathing!
BRUCHT grasps the scaffolding rope and jumps off the scaffold as OLGATHA, acting as counterweight, goes sailing and choking into the air. Landing, BRUCHT lets go of the rope, and OLGATHA plummets to the ground, almost dead, knocking him over. Somehow, she manages to regain her footing and balance and, thus, ease the constricting loops of rope, allowing her to breathe once more.
OLGATHA (hoarsely, hardly a whisper) Idiot!
BRUCHT I’m sorry!
OLGATHA Rope –- Rope!
BRUCHT has trouble undoing it.
OLGATHA Quick! Quick, Brucht!
BRUCHT Das rope, das verdammtes rope!
OLGATHA Knife. Knife. Over there.
BRUCHT Where?
OLGATHA There!
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BRUCHT Ich sehe es nicht!
OLGATHA There! There! Are you blind?!
BRUCHT I ... I ... ?
OLGATHA What are doing?
BRUCHT Ich kann es nicht sehen!
OLGATHA Left? Left! -- Right!
BRUCHT What right? Where?!
OLGATHA Oh, my God! Behind you! Behind -– to your left!
BRUCHT Which left? -– No, I see it! I see it!
OLGATHA Ahhhh. Praise be to -- uh! (nearly hangs herself in her relief) Eeeee! (restores her balance)
BRUCHT rushes up to her with the dagger; supports her weight as he tries to cut her down.
BRUCHT Don’t wobble so.
OLGATHA Hurry!
BRUCHT I hurry fast I can!
OLGATHA What taking you?
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BRUCHT Shut up. Can’t concentrate!
OLGATHA I dead first!
BRUCHT Wait!
OLGATHA What else I can do?
BRUCHT Shut! Up! Your! Mouth! -- Uh! Uh, uh, uhhhh!
At last, the rope tying her hands gives way. They next struggle to unwind the rope from her neck.
BRUCHT I am trying to --
OLGATHA Let me --
BRUCHT I got it.
OLGATHA No!
BRUCHT You’re in the way!
OLGATHA Stop!
BRUCHT What are you --
OLGATHA Eh! You choking me!
BRUCHT Let go!
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OLGATHA I can’t -– with you --
The rope falls away from her neck. She takes in great gasps of breath.
BRUCHT Praise be to Gott!
With a hiss, OLGATHA grabs the dagger from BRUCHT’s hand.
OLGATHA Out of way!
BRUCHT What you doing?
OLGATHA Out of my way!
BRUCHT shakes his head.
OLGATHA Are you mad?!
BRUCHT Leave him be.
OLGATHA I kill you, you don’t!
BRUCHT shakes his head.
OLGATHA You like him to treat you like that? Eh? You like? Maybe he do it for real! You want to find out?
BRUCHT (taking her by the shoulders) Come.
OLGATHA (shaking off his hands) No!
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BRUCHT We must go.
OLGATHA Not till I stab his face!
BRUCHT sighs.
BRUCHT We go? We die? Choose.
OLGATHA glowers at BRUCHT.
BRUCHT Choose.
OLGATHA Ahhh! (plunges dagger into the altar)
BRUCHT Come. Schnell.
They cross to the outdoor exit. He stops just as he is about to open it.
BRUCHT Wait!
OLGATHA What?
BRUCHT (listening) They out there still.
OLGATHA What you talking about?
BRUCHT Soldiers of the Prince.
OLGATHA Where?
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BRUCHT Everywhere.
OLGATHA What you saying?
BRUCHT I am saying we cannot go out there.
OLGATHA What can be done?
BRUCHT Ich weiss nicht, but there they are. Killing the peasants. Hunting them. Stabbing them. Shooting them. Hanging them.
OLGATHA We must try!
BRUCHT Nein.
OLGATHA Afraid, Mr. Marauder?
Their eyes meet.
She leans against the wall and slides down to the floor. He follows her example.
OLGATHA What now?
He shrugs his shoulders.
OLGATHA Thank you for rescuing me.
BRUCHT sighs.
BRUCHT You’re welcome.
She bursts into a laugh, ending it in a sigh.
They continue to sit.
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BRUCHT looks over at the trapdoor. Her eyes follow his.
OLGATHA No, Brucht. We’ll be trapped!
He coughs out a laugh.
A smile flickers over her face, but a frown asserts control.
OLGATHA All right. (standing) But if I get killed, is your fault.
BRUCHT (standing) All right, und if I get killed, it will be your fault.
OLGATHA Agreed.
They spit on their hands and shake.
BRUCHT I just hope I get to maraud you once before I die.
OLGATHA You should have done before.
OLGATHA walks over to the trapdoor, leaving him to gawk. He catches up to her. She glances up at the dangling nun, shudders, then catches sight of the crucifix on the wall.
OLGATHA Oh, my God! What about Boris?
BRUCHT shrugs.
BRUCHT He look comfortable.
OLGATHA But we can’t leave him!
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BRUCHT He will not come.
OLGATHA He must.
BRUCHT He can’t.
OLGATHA He must!
BRUCHT looks at OLGATHA sadly as she runs to the crucifix.
OLGATHA (her eyes welling with tears) Boris, sweet little Boris, don’t you want to come away with Mummy and Daddy? You don’t want stay here when bad man come back? I know you dead now, but please, Boris, please!
BRUCHT He will just a chance have to take.
OLGATHA That is no chance.
BRUCHT shakes his head and drags himself back to the trapdoor.
BRUCHT Woman. We must go! Look, Boris will be fine. He’s happy where he is. See? He smiling.
OLGATHA Smiling?
BRUCHT Every bird must be let out of its nest sooner or later. Und it’s pretty much later with this bird.
OLGATHA Smiling. My baby. Smiling.
Crying a flood, she stretches up on her tippiest tip- toes, and kisses the icon on its belly, as high as she can reach. Then runs to BRUCHT.
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BRUCHT presses the trapdoor’s secret spring. It opens. He jumps down and helps OLGATHA to climb in. She ducks below. BRUCHT gives the Christ a last look; closes the trapdoor.
BLACKOUT
LIGHTS WEARILY FADE UP.
The PRINCE stands, arms akimbo, looking out into the audience.
PRINCE FERDINAND (sighs) Well, that was foolish. (shakes his head at himself) Couldn’t have gotten far. So, where? -- Halloo! I’m speaking as much to you as myself, Sweetnips. (Pivots a glance up at the nun. Starts at her dishabille) Oh, my! How radical.
The PRINCE wobbles his head at the dangling corpse.
PRINCE FERDINAND Oh, very well.
He strides over to the rope tied off to the scaffolding that keeps the nun aloft. Undoes the rope. Eases the body down for a few feet.
PRINCE FERDINAND Hope you’ve learned your lesson.
He releases the rope. The body crashes to the floor.
PRINCE FERDINAND Don’t sulk. It’s not that I’m all that partial to those teabagging landgraves and merchants, but they do have their uses. And there are so many fewer of them to tolerate than there are of you. (gives the corpse a little wave) Don’t worry. I won’t leave you there on the cold floor. I’ll have my men haul you to the palace gate where we can show off how pretty you are. Crows have to eat too. (again surveys the audience) Where, oh, where has Master Brucht gone? God knows I miss that saucy wench, the
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bishop. But you do have potential, my friend. (picks up the horse costume from the floor) Tch, we may have to rethink your wardrobe. (inhales) Coming, Sweetie, ready or not!
BLACKOUT
LIGHT COMES UP behind a scrim (or, alternatively, a SPOTLIGHT downstage or before a curtain) as if from below the chancel floor, revealing BRUCHT sitting cross-legged, cradling OLGATHA in his arms from behind.
BRUCHT Es ist sehr dark here. (beat) So dark even the rats are blind. (pause) How long has it been, I wonder. (beat) Hey, you. Woman. You have hunger? (beat) Me, I’m doing gut; ja, you bet.
Sound of footsteps overhead. BRUCHT and OLGATHA follow them with their eyes as they approach and fade.
Pause.
BRUCHT How long think you we have to stay down here? Huh? Wie lange? (Beat. Softly sings, getting the words wrong:) IF I WAS A FISH UND YOU GOT SQUISHED ... DA DA HOW HAPPY -– BUM BA BUM BUM BUM ... (pause) I think I get the leg cramp. Oof. Ach. (beat) You know how that song goes? I try to remember. Ich habe es vergessen. You believe that? (beat) Doing gut, ja? Doing gut? (gently kisses top of her head) Doing gut.
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Sound of footsteps overhead going the other way. BRUCHT and OLGATHA look up as they come and go.
Beat.
BRUCHT Brrr. It’s cold. (beat) Chilly on my willy. (pause) What can a guy do what gots der leg cramp in der leg? Oooh. (pause) It’s so dark. Very dark.
SCRIM LIGHTS FADE OUT.
SCRIM LIGHTS FADE UP
Under the floor, BRUCHT is seated in profile. OLGATHA is seated facing front.
OLGATHA (sings, as if in a trance) LITTLE LITTLE BABY, ONE, TWO, THREE. TOSS UP PRETTY BABY WAY UP INTO SKY. LONG, PRETTY, POINTY STICKS, DON’T YOU AGREE THAT LITTLE LITTLE BABY COME DOWN FROM ON HIGH, THAT LITTLE LITTLE BABY COME DOWN BY AND BY?
As she sings, BRUCHT discovers he is sitting on a book. He tears a page from the book, wads it up, stuffs it in his mouth, and chews.
OLGATHA PAPA, OH, PAPA, WHAT IS THERE TO EAT? BOOM-BOOM-BOOM LULLABY, PIGGIES RUN AWAY. SOLDIERS SNACK ON MAMA’S HOSPITALITY; THEY’VE COME TO CALL ON PAPA IN THIS FRIENDLY WAY -- PAPA’S HEAD SO HANDSOME ON BURNING BARNYARD GATE.
YET SING FOREVER SWEETLY FOR ALL BUTTONS LOST; NOW THERE IS HOLE, AND PANTS HAVE FALLEN OFF. POOR LITTLE CORPORAL, STEEL IS HARD, FLESH IS SOFT -- POOR LITTLE CORPORAL, SEE HOW MUCH YOUR BUTTON COST.
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THE SCRIM LIGHT SLOWLY FADES OUT.
LIGHTS UP ONSTAGE
No one is onstage, not even the dead. The empty barrel lies on its side. The scaffolding has been dismantled; its lumber lies scattered. But the light streaming in is pleasant, the air fresh. It is the first really warm day after a cold winter and harsh spring.
A few moments pass. Abruptly, the trapdoor flings open.
With a groan, BRUCHT pulls himself out of the pit. He is very stiff. His ears and bleary eyes scout the church interior. He stumps over to the door leading outside. He cracks it open. Its deafening squeak alarms him, so it takes him a few tries to muster the courage to open it far enough to peek out. Then he closes the door and hobbles back to the pit.
He bends over with another groan and beckons to OLGATHA.
BRUCHT Hey. Olgatha. Psst. (He beckons again.) It’s safe. Come.
OLGATHA’s hand appears. After almost being pulled into the pit, BRUCHT manages to hoist her out.
BRUCHT Mein Gott. You gain weight down there, woman?
OLGATHA (sharply) No.
BRUCHT Mein Gott!
OLGATHA You puny man is all.
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BRUCHT I think my back got pulled. I got der leg cramp in der leg. Und now der back sprain in der back.
OLGATHA walks up to the crucifix, runs her hand along Christ’s wooden ankle. Smooth. It seems different.
BRUCHT Look at Old Boris. Not much worse for wear, eh? I said as much. Still missing the arm, of course; his head’s on crooked, but --
OLGATHA Boris is wood.
BRUCHT What?
OLGATHA Boris is wood baby. I remember Boris as real baby. -- Hmpf. Boris has beard. (drifts across the stage) Listen. Birds.
BRUCHT watches OLGATHA keenly as she wanders about, examining the chancel as if for the first time.
OLGATHA Da? Nobody here. Nobody. Nobody but us. -- Ugh. Look at floors. How dirty they are. Disgusting. Tsk. We need to stack this wood. Hmm, you hear, Brucht?
She goes to the altar, gently lifts out a bird nest, pillowing two eggs. She raises it up and smiles at BRUCHT. She gently puts it back.
OLGATHA This was ... church? –- No, no, this is my home. (to BRUCHT as if he were about to contradict her) Our home. (smiles roguishly at him) I let you live here, too.
She rolls the barrel up to Christ, stands it on end, climbs on top, and works off the wire from the spike. BRUCHT scoots over to her.
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OLGATHA Is not right for dead people should decorate walls.
BRUCHT takes the crucifix from her.
BRUCHT I got. (shoulders it with a groan)
OLGATHA (stepping down from the barrel) We should bury our dead. Bring.
BRUCHT, lugging the crucifix, follows OLGATHA to the open trap.
OLGATHA Just like home.
BRUCHT Ja? Plenty of rats down there.
OLGATHA They keep Boris company.
She nods at him to lower the crucifix into the pit. As he does so, Christ-feet first, she sings an eerily hopeful tune.
OLGATHA DAWN COME DOWN AND CRUSH DARK NIGHT. LAY TO REST ALL CARE, ALL TEAR. NOTHING TO WAKE YOU, NOTHING TO FEAR. GOODBYE, MY DARLING, UNTIL NEXT LIFE.
She gently lowers the trapdoor.
OLGATHA Boris safe now. Is good.
OLGATHA suddenly hikes up her skirts and rubs her hands together.
OLGATHA Come. Is much work to do.
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BRUCHT Wha-wha-? Are we not in mourning still?
OLGATHA We are in mourning all days of our life.
She hums to herself and starts to clear away the lumber.
BRUCHT watches dumbfounded. As she passes him with a load, he stops her.
OLGATHA looks at him in surprise.
BRUCHT (firmly) By und by. After mourning another task to perform comes, nicht wahr? (suggestively) This is home, you say, our home? Home must be consecrated.
OLGATHA (dismissively) Pff.
She stacks lumber by the door leading outside.
BRUCHT It is tradition.
OLGATHA Is tradition to have nice home.
BRUCHT Nein, nein, woman. Don’t you start mit your cleaning! I warning you!
OLGATHA (coquettishly) No?
BRUCHT No. Leave off, Cinderella, thy prince hath come.
OLGATHA backpedals around the space as he follows. He whistles a snatch of “I’m a Fine Fella.”
OLGATHA Some prince. Woman what kiss you turn into frog.
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BRUCHT So long as Miss Frog got beavage und cleavage, I don’t care.
The chase escalates until they are both searching for breath on opposite sides of the pew.
Seductively, she leans towards him. He leans towards her. Suddenly, she springs back, laughs, and runs him ragged for another zigzag lap or two.
Finally, BRUCHT falls on the pew, flat on his back. OLGATHA tip-toes up to him. He doesn’t move. She inches closer and closer, and when very close, he grabs her arm and pulls her down on him, she kneeing him inadvertently in the groin.
BRUCHT Achhhh!
OLGATHA (leaping off, apologetic) Oh!
BRUCHT rolls onto the floor, clutching his privates.
OLGATHA (with feigned sympathy) Poor, poor, little boy.
BRUCHT (standing unsteadily) Ow.
She sashays up to him and puts an arm through his.
BRUCHT You think that funny joke, but how am I to do proper marauding if I am all miscombobulated?
She nuzzles his ear. Then bites it.
BRUCHT Ow!
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OLGATHA (scoring points) Ha ha!
She kisses him smartly on the snout and springs back.
OLGATHA (sings) MARAUDER, MARAUDER, WHAT IS WRONG TODAY? HOOPLA! WHOOPSIE-DO! WHAT YOU GOT TO SAY?
BRUCHT De-cease und desist all funny doings!
OLGATHA You love funny doings.
BRUCHT Hmm.
OLGATHA Hmm?
OLGATHA steps in. They kiss. She grabs a fistful of habit and backs to the pew with BRUCHT in tow. She unlaces her gunnysack dress at the throat and shimmies the dress down to her ankles. Lifting his habit’s skirt, easing herself onto the pew, she spreads her legs, lies back, covering her body with his. As they copulate, LIGHTS FADE.
BRUCHT Ulrica, Ulrica, Ulrica.
OLGATHA Olgatha.
He stops. LIGHTS BEGIN TO BRIGHTEN.
BRUCHT What?
OLGATHA My name is Olgatha ... idiot.
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Pause.
BRUCHT Brucht. ... My name is Brucht.
LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK
END OF PLAY
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REFERENCES
Bax, Ernest Belfort. The Peasant’s War in Germany, 1525-1526. London: Swan
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Peasant War in Germany and Germany: Revolution and Counter-Revolution. Ed.
Leonard Krieger. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1967. 3-119. Print.
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Sorkin, Andrew Ross. “Occupy Wall Street: A Frenzy That Fizzled.” The New York
Times 18 Sept. (2012): 843 words, LexisNexis Academic. Web. 29 Sept. 2012.
Sreenivasan, Govind P. “The Social Origins of the Peasants' War of 1525 in Upper
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Swabia.” Past & Present 171 (2001): 30-65. JSTOR. Web. 8 Jan. 2012.
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Lauderdale) 6 Nov. (2011): 623 words. LexisNexis Academic. Web. 11 Nov.
2011.
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APPENDIX A: SHEET MUSIC (lyrics and melody line)
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APPENDIX B: PLAY READING FLYER
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