Authors: Alfred Jarry
The same.
THE GAOLER.
GAOLER. Closing time!
The passageway of a seraglio.
SOLIMAN,
his
VIZIER,
followed
by
attendants.
VIZIER. Sire, the Free Country has at last confirmed to Your Majesty the despatch of the tribute which it has taken them so long to amass. The authorities say the convoy comprises two hundred convicts, including the illustrious Pa Ubu, who is fatter than the fattest of Your eunuchs, although as far as his virility is concerned he claims to be married to the no less notorious Ma Ubu.
SOLIMAN. Yes, I have heard of this man known as Pa Ubu. I’m told he was once king of Poland and Aragon, and had some amazing adventures. But he eats pig-meat and pisses standing up. He must be either a madman or a heretic!
VIZIER. Sire, he is deeply versed in many branches of occult knowledge and might prove useful as a source of amusement for Your Majesty. He’s an expert on astrology and the art of navigation.
SOLIMAN. Good. He’ll row all the better in my galleys.
FIRST FREE MAN
(to the
SECOND). Where are you off to, comrade? To drill, same as every morning? Hey, I suspect you’re obeying.
SECOND FREE MAN. The Corporal has ordered me never to turn up for drill at this particular hour. But I’m a Free Man, so I go every morning.
FIRST
and
THIRD FREE MEN
(together).
So that’s why we keep meeting by accident every morning - so that we can all disobey together as regular as clockwork.
SECOND FREE MAN. But the Corporal didn’t show up today.
THIRD FREE MAN. He’s free not to come.
FIRST FREE MAN. And since it’s raining...
SECOND FREE MAN. We are free not to enjoy being rained on.
FIRST FREE MAN. You see what I told you: you’re both becoming obedient.
SECOND FREE MAN. It’s more like it’s the Corporal what’s becoming obedient. He often misses our indiscipline drills these days.
THIRD FREE MAN. Whereas we’re standing guard in front of this prison just for the fun of it, in these here sentry-boxes.
SECOND FREE MAN. And they’re free too!
THIRD FREE MAN. Besides, we’ve been strictly forbidden to take shelter inside the sentry-boxes.
FIRST FREE MAN. You are the Free Men!
SECOND
and
THIRD FREE MEN
(together).
Yea, yea, we are the
Free Men!
The same.
LORD CORNHOLER,
his valet
JACK.
LORD CORNHOLER. Oh, really, the only noteworthy thing about this town is that it’s built entirely of houses, like any other town, and that all its houses look exactly like houses anywhere else. Too, too boring really. Oh, but I say, surely this must be the King’s palace ahead of us. - Jack!
The valet bows.
Do look up the word ‘palace’ in the dictionary, dear boy.
JACK
(reading out).
Palace: edifice constructed of blocks of granite, decorated with iron bars. Royal Palace, the Louvre: similar model, but with a gate in front presided over by guards whose function it is to ensure that no one gets in.
CORNHOLER. Well, it looks all right, but just to make sure, Jack, ask this guard if it really is the King’s palace.
JACK
(to the
FIRST FREE MAN). Soldier, is this the King’s palace?
SECOND FREE MAN
(to the
FIRST). Truth compels you to admit that we haven’t got a king and so this building can’t be the King’s palace. We are the Free Men!
FIRST FREE MAN
(to the
SECOND). Truth compels me ... ? Not at all. Being Free Men, we shouldn’t take orders even from truth itself. - Yes, mister foreigner, sir, this building is in fact the King’s palace.
CORNHOLER. Oh goody goody! Here’s a big tip for you. - Jack!
The valet bows.
Go and knock on the door and ask if I may have audience of the King.
The valet knocks.
The same,
THE GAOLER.
GAOLER. Sorry, gentlemen, no entry.
CORNHOLER. Oh! this gentleman must be the gentleman who guards the King. Well, he shan’t get a tip from me since he won’t let English tourists in.
(To the
FIRST FREE MAN). Do you think you could persuade His Majesty to come to the door? I should adore to see the King in the flesh, and if he’ll do me this favour I’ll give him a big tip as a reward.
THIRD FREE MAN
(to the
FIRST). In the first place, there’s no king and no queen, either inside there or anywhere else in this country for that matter; in the second place, the people who are inside aren’t allowed out.
FIRST FREE MAN. You’re right.
(To
LORD CORNHOLER.) Mister foreigner, sir, the king and queen who are in there emerge with their retinue every day to accept tips from English tourists!
CORNHOLER. Oh, hurray! I am grateful to you for the information. Here’s another tip for you to drink my health. - Jack! Pitch our tent and open some tins of corned beef. We shall camp here while awaiting audience of the King and the opportunity to kiss the hand of Her Gracious Majesty the Queen!
The prison yard.
PA UBU, MA UBU, CONVICTS, GUARDS.
THE CONVICTS. Hurrah for slavery! Hurrah for Pa Ubu!
PA UBU. Ma Ubu, do you happen to have a piece of string I could use to tie the links of my chains together more securely ? The balls are so heavy I’m afraid the chains may break when I try to walk.
MA UBU. Stupid clot!
PA UBU. Look, my iron collar’s coming undone and the manacles are so big they’re slipping off my wrists. If I’m not careful I’ll end up at liberty, stripped of these fine trappings, deprived of my escort and other honours, and forced to pay my own expenses!
GUARD. Hey, Mister Ubu, Sir, there’s your green cap flying over the windmills.
PA UBU. What windmills ? My headquarters is no longer that windmill on the hill in the Ukraine from which I commanded my army. Oh no, I don’t intend to get shot at ever again. But I miss my dear old phynance charger.
MA UBU. You were always complaining he wasn’t strong enough to carry you.
PA UBU. Horn of Ubu! That was because he never got anything to eat! It’s true that my iron balls don’t eat either, and wouldn’t complain if you stole from
them.
Besides, I no longer have the account books in which I used to study your embezzlements. But enough of these considerations! From now on it will be those in charge of the Turkish galleys who will be robbing me, Ma Ubu, not you any longer. Farewell, Ma Ubu! We really should have a band to play stirring military music at our parting.
MA UBU. Look, here comes the escort of guards in their beautiful yellow-braided uniforms.
PA UBU. Ah well, from now on we shall have to content ourselves with the monotonous clanking of our chains. Farewell once more, Ma Ubu. Soon I shall be regaled by the sound of splashing waves and creaking oars! My Gaoler will look after you.
MA UBU. Farewell, Pa Ubu. If you should decide to come back any time for a little peace and quiet, you’ll find me in the same stoutly-built little room, and by then I’ll have embroidered you a beautiful pair of slippers. Ah, these farewells are too heart-breaking! I’ll accompany you at least as far as the door I
PA UBU, MA UBU
and the
CONVICTS
move off towards the door at the back of the stage, dragging their chains behind them and jostling and tripping over each other.
The square in front of the prison.
LORD CORNHOLER,
his valet
JACK, THE THREE FREE MEN, THE GAOLER. THE GAOLER
removes the bars, draws the bolts and unlocks all the locks on the outside of the door.
CORNHOLER. Jack! Strike the tent and sweep up all these empty tins of corned beef, so that we can receive Their Majesties with due ceremonyl
FIRST FREE MAN
(dead drunk, waving an empty bottle).
Long live the King! Long live the King! Hurrah for the King !
SECOND FREE MAN. Idiot! That’s Pa Ubu and Ma Ubu!
THIRD FREE MAN. Psst! Shut up, and we’ll get our share of tips and free drinks!
SECOND FREE MAN. Me shut up? We’re Free Men, aren’t we!
(At the top of his voice.)
Long live the King! Hey! Hurrah for the King!
The door opens. The GUARDS start coming out.
The same.
GUARDS, PA UBU, MA UBU.
PA UBU
(stopping in amazement in the doorway, at the head of the flight of steps leading down to the square, With
MA UBU
at his side).
Hornstrumpot, I must be losing my mind I What’s the meaning of all this shouting and banging about? And all these drunken louts, they’re as bad as the ones back in Poland! Help! They’re going to crown me king again and beat me black and blue!
MA UBU. These fine upstanding individuals are not drunk at all. On the contrary. See, here’s one all decked out in lace trimmings and gold braid who’s just come up to beg the honour of kissing my regal hand!
CORNHOLER. Jack! Come back here, you naughty boy! First look up in the dictionary the words ‘King’ and ‘Queen’.
JACK
(reading out).
King, Queen: he or she who wears a ceremonial metal collar around the neck, and ornaments such as chains and cords at the wrists and ankles. Carries an orb representing the world ...
CORNHOLER. The king of this country is a great, fat, double king! He has
two
orbs, and drags them with his feet instead of carrying them.
JACK
(reading out).
King of France, similar model. Wears a cloak bearing a design of fleur-de-lys buckled at the shoulder.
CORNHOLER. This king’s shoulder is quite bare, and there’s a beautiful red fleur-de-lys inlaid into the skin itself. He must be a real, hereditary king of ancient lineage! Long live the King!
JACK
and
THREE PREE MEN
(together).
Long live the King! Hurrah for the King!
PA UBU. God Almighty! I’m lost! Hornstrumpot, where can I hide?
MA UBU. You’ve made a fine mess of your plans for being a slave! You wanted to polish these people’s feet, and now these same people are kissing your hands! And they don’t seem any more squeamish about it than you do!
PA UBU. Madam our wife, watch out for your nearoles! We’ll inflict severe punishment when we have more leisure. Right now, we’re going to send this mob graciously on its way, just like in the good old days when our royal person’s bumboozle overflowed the edges of the throne of Wenceslas ... - Hornboodle, pack of guttersnipes ! Bugger off this instant, all of you! We don’t like people creating an uproar in our presence, no one has ever dared to do so before, and we don’t intend to let you be the ones to start! So shut up and piss off!
Everyone withdraws most respectfully, with repeated cries of
‘Long live the King’.
PA UBU, MA UBU, THE CONVICTS,
among the latter the
LEADER OF THE CONVICTS and BROTHER BUNG. THE CONVICTS
s
have sneaked up behind
PA UBU
during his peroration, and are now sprawling all over the stage.
MA UBU. Ah, they’ve gone at last. But what’s this bunch of riffraff doing here ?
PA UBU. These are friends, Ma Ubu, our prison colleagues, all disciples and loyal henchmen.
CONVICTS. Long live the King!
PA UBU. What, again! Quiet, I say, or by my green candle I’ll beat you all up good and proper!
LEADER OF THE CONVICTS. Don’t be angry with us, Pa Ubu. We are addressing you by your title because it is eternally linked with your name, and thus we are demonstrating our faithful attachment to your glorious past. Besides, we hope that between friends and colleagues, so to speak, your innate modesty may yet permit us to boast of your exploits !
MA UBU. Oh, what a beautiful speech!
PA UBU. My friends, I am deeply touched. However, I’m doling out no money ...
MA UBU. Ah, I should hope not!
PA UBU. Silence, clownish female! ... because we aren’t in Poland any longer. But I wish to make due recognition of your loyalty and efficiency by handing out a few promotions - that is, if you won’t refuse to accept such honours from our hand - our royal hand, since it pleases you to insist on our title. The chief advantage of this distribution of honours is that it will reduce the queue of those fighting to acquire precedence in carrying segments of the great chain of office which stretches out behind our bumboozle! You there, venerable Leader of our noble Convicts, you old embezzler, you, we hereby create you Grand Treasurer of our Phynances! You over there, the legless cripple imprisoned for forgery and murder, we appoint you Commander-in-Chief! And you, Brother Bung, who share a small section of our great iron rosary, too, for lechery, extortion, and wilful destruction of private property, shall be our Grand Almoner! You, convicted poisoner, from now on you’re our personal physician! And all the rest of you, thieves, bandits, brain-extruders, I name you all without exception gallant Craptains of our Pschittanarmy!
The square in front of the prison.
ELEUTHERIA, PISSALE, PISSWEET, THE FREE MEN, PEOPLE.
PISSWEET. Forward, comrades! Hurrah for freedom! That fat slab of galley-fodder, Pa Ubu, has been taken away with the rest of the chain-gang, the prisons are empty, and nobody’s left but Ma Ubu who’s unsewing mailbags and converting them into carpet-slippers. We are free to do what we want, even to obey. We are free to go anywhere we choose, even to prison! Slavery is the only true freedom!
ALL. Hurrah for Pissweet!
PISSWEET. In response to your pleas, I agree to take over command. Forward! Let’s break into the prisons and abolish freedom!