The Complete Poems and Plays, 1909-1950 Read online

  DORIS: It might just as well be Sweeney

  DUSTY: Well anyway it’s very queer.

  DORIS: Here’s the four of diamonds, what’s that mean?

  DUSTY: (reading) ‘A small sum of money, or a present

  Of wearing apparel, or a party’.

  That’s queer too.

  DORIS: Here’s the three. What’s that mean?

  DUSTY: ‘News of an absent friend’. — Pereira!

  DORIS: The Queen of Hearts! — Mrs. Porter!

  DUSTY: Or it might be you

  DORIS: Or it might be you

  We’re all hearts. You can’t be sure.

  It just depends on what comes next.

  You’ve got to think when you read the cards,

  It’s not a thing that anyone can do.

  DUSTY: Yes I know you’ve a touch with the cards

  What comes next?

  DORIS: What comes next. It’s the six.

  DUSTY: ‘A quarrel. An estrangement. Separation of friends’.

  DORIS: Here’s the two of spades.

  DUSTY: The two of spades!

  THAT’S THE COFFIN!!

  DORIS: THAT’S THE COFFIN?

  Oh good heavens what’ll I do?

  Just before a party too!

  DUSTY: Well it needn’t be yours, it may mean a friend.

  DORIS: No it’s mine. I’m sure it’s mine.

  I dreamt of weddings all last night.

  Yes it’s mine. I know it’s mine.

  Oh good heavens what’ll I do.

  Well I’m not going to draw any more,

  You cut for luck. You cut for luck.

  It might break the spell. You cut for luck.

  DUSTY: The Knave of Spades.

  DORIS: That’ll be Snow

  DUSTY: Or it might be Swarts

  DORIS: Or it might be Snow

  DUSTY: It’s a funny thing how I draw court cards —

  DORIS: There’s a lot in the way you pick them up

  DUSTY: There’s an awful lot in the way you feel

  DORIS: Sometimes they’ll tell you nothing at all

  DUSTY: You’ve got to know what you want to ask them

  DORIS: You’ve got to know what you want to know

  DUSTY: It’s no use asking them too much

  DORIS: It’s no use asking more than once

  DUSTY: Sometimes they’re no use at all.

  DORIS: I’d like to know about that coffin.

  DUSTY: Well I never! What did I tell you?

  Wasn’t I saying I always draw court cards?

  The Knave of Hearts!

  (Whistle outside of the window.)

  Well I never

  What a coincidence! Cards are queer!

  (Whistle again.)

  DORIS: Is that Sam?

  DUSTY: Of course it’s Sam!

  DORIS: Of course, the Knave of Hearts is Sam!

  DUSTY (leaning out of the window): Hello Sam!

  WAUCHOPE: Hello dear

  How many’s up there?

  DUSTY: Nobody’s up here

  How many’s down there?

  WAUCHOPE: Four of us here.

  Wait till I put the car round the corner

  We’ll be right up

  DUSTY: All right, come up.

  DUSTY (to DORIS): Cards are queer.

  DORIS: I’d like to know about that coffin.

  KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

  KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

  KNOCK

  KNOCK

  KNOCK

  DORIS. DUSTY. WAUCHOPE. HORSFALL. KLIPSTEIN. KRUMPACKER.

  WAUCHOPE: Hello Doris! Hello Dusty! How do you do!

  How come? how come? will you permit me —

  I think you girls both know Captain Horsfall —

  We want you to meet two friends of ours,

  American gentlemen here on business.

  Meet Mr. Klipstein. Meet Mr. Krumpacker.

  KLIPSTEIN: How do you do

  KRUMPACKER: How do you do

  KLIPSTEIN: I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance

  KRUMPACKER: Extremely pleased to become acquainted

  KLIPSTEIN: Sam — I should say Loot Sam Wauchope

  KRUMPACKER: Of the Canadian Expeditionary Force —

  KLIPSTEIN: The Loot has told us a lot about you.

  KRUMPACKER: We were all in the war together

  Klip and me and the Cap and Sam.

  KLIPSTEIN: Yes we did our bit, as you folks say,

  I’ll tell the world we got the Hun on the run

  KRUMPACKER: What about that poker game? eh what Sam?

  What about that poker game in Bordeaux?

  Yes Miss Dorrance you get Sam

  To tell about that poker game in Bordeaux.

  DUSTY: Do you know London well, Mr. Krumpacker?

  KLIPSTEIN: No we never been here before

  KRUMPACKER: We hit this town last night for the first time

  KLIPSTEIN: And I certainly hope it won’t be the last time.

  DORIS: You like London, Mr. Klipstein?

  KRUMPACKER: Do we like London? do we like London!

  Do we like London!! Eh what Klip?

  KLIPSTEIN: Say, Miss — er — uh — London’s swell.

  We like London fine.

  KRUMPACKER: Perfectly slick.

  DUSTY: Why don’t you come and live here then?

  KLIPSTEIN: Well, no, Miss — er — you haven’t quite got it

  (I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch your name —

  But I’m very pleased to meet you all the same) —

  London’s a little too gay for us

  Yes I’ll say a little too gay.

  KRUMPACKER: Yes London’s a little too gay for us

  Don’t think I mean anything coarse —

  But I’m afraid we couldn’t stand the pace.

  What about it Klip?

  KLIPSTEIN: You said it, Krum.

  London’s a slick place, London’s a swell place,

  London’s a fine place to come on a visit —

  KRUMPACKER: Specially when you got a real live Britisher

  A guy like Sam to show you around.

  Sam of course is at home in London,

  And he’s promised to show us around.

  Fragment of an Agon

  SWEENEY. WAUCHOPE. HORSFALL. KLIPSTEIN.

  KRUMPACKER. SWARTS. SNOW. DORIS. DUSTY.

  SWEENEY: I’ll carry you off

  To a cannibal isle.

  DORIS: You’ll be the cannibal!

  SWEENEY: You’ll be the missionary!

  You’ll be my little seven stone missionary!

  I’ll gobble you up. I’ll be the cannibal.

  DORIS: You’ll carry me off? To a cannibal isle?

  SWEENEY: I’ll be the cannibal.

  DORIS: I’ll be the missionary.

  I’ll convert you!

  SWEENEY: I’ll convert you!

  Into a stew.

  A nice little, white little, missionary stew.

  DORIS: You wouldn’t eat me!

  SWEENEY: Yes I’d eat you!

  In a nice little, white little, soft little, tender little,

  Juicy little, right little, missionary stew.

  You see this egg

  You see this egg

  Well that’s life on a crocodile isle.

  There’s no telephones

  There’s no gramophones

  There’s no motor cars

  No two-seaters, no six-seaters,

  No Citroën, no Rolls-Royce.

  Nothing to eat but the fruit as it grows.

  Nothing to see but the palmtrees one way

  And the sea the other way,

  Nothing to hear but the sound of the surf.

  Nothing at all but three things

  DORIS: What things?

  SWEENEY: Birth, and copulation and death.

  That’s all, that’s all, that’s all, that’s all,

  Birth, and copulation, and death.

  DORIS: I’d
be bored.

  SWEENEY: You’d be bored.

  Birth, and copulation, and death.

  DORIS: I’d be bored.

  SWEENEY: You’d be bored.

  Birth, and copulation, and death.

  That’s all the facts when you come to brass tacks:

  Birth, and copulation, and death.

  I’ve been born, and once is enough.

  You don’t remember, but I remember,

  Once is enough.

  SONG BY WAUCHOPE AND HORSFALL

  SWARTS AS TAMBO. SNOW AS BONES

  Under the bamboo

  Bamboo bamboo

  Under the bamboo tree

  Two live as one

  One live as two

  Two live as three

  Under the bam

  Under the boo

  Under the bamboo tree.

  Where the breadfruit fall

  And the penguin call

  And the sound is the sound of the sea

  Under the bam

  Under the boo

  Under the bamboo tree

  Where the Gauguin maids

  In the banyan shades

  Wear palmleaf drapery

  Under the bam

  Under the boo

  Under the bamboo tree.

  Tell me in what part of the wood

  Do you want to flirt with me?

  Under the breadfruit, banyan, palmleaf

  Or under the bamboo tree?

  Any old tree will do for me

  Any old wood is just as good

  Any old isle is just my style

  Any fresh egg

  Any fresh egg

  And the sound of the coral sea.

  DORIS: I don’t like eggs; I never liked eggs;

  And I don’t like life on your crocodile isle.

  DORIS: That’s not life, that’s no life

  Why I’d just as soon be dead.

  SWEENEY: That’s what life is. Just is

  DORIS: What is?

  What’s that life is?

  SWEENEY: Life is death.

  I knew a man once did a girl in —

  DORIS: Oh Mr. Sweeney, please don’t talk,

  I cut the cards before you came

  And I drew the coffin

  SWARTS: You drew the coffin?

  DORIS: I drew the COFFIN very last card.

  I don’t care for such conversation

  A woman runs a terrible risk.

  SNOW: Let Mr. Sweeney continue his story.

  I assure you, Sir, we are very interested.

  SWEENEY: I knew a man once did a girl in.

  Any man might do a girl in

  Any man has to, needs to, wants to

  Once in a lifetime, do a girl in

  Well he kept her there in a bath

  With a gallon of lysol in a bath

  SWARTS: These fellows always get pinched in the end.

  SNOW: Excuse me, they don’t all get pinched in the end.

  What about them bones on Epsom Heath?

  I seen that in the papers

  You seen it in the papers

  They don’t all get pinched in the end.

  DORIS: A woman runs a terrible risk.

  SNOW: Let Mr. Sweeney continue his story.

  SWEENEY: This one didn’t get pinched in the end

  But that’s another story too.

  This went on for a couple of months

  Nobody came

  And nobody went

  But he took in the milk and he paid the rent.

  SWARTS: What did he do?

  All that time, what did he do?

  SWEENEY: What did he do! what did he do?

  That don’t apply.

  Talk to live men about what they do.

  He used to come and see me sometimes

  I’d give him a drink and cheer him up.

  DORIS: Cheer him up?

  DUSTY: Cheer him up?

  SWEENEY: Well here again that don’t apply

  But I’ve gotta use words when I talk to you.

  But here’s what I was going to say.

  He didn’t know if he was alive

  and the girl was dead

  He didn’t know if the girl was alive

  and he was dead

  He didn’t know if they were both alive

  or both were dead

  If he was alive then the milkman wasn’t

  and the rent-collector wasn’t

  And if they were alive then he was dead.

  There wasn’t any joint

  There wasn’t any joint

  For when you’re alone

  When you’re alone like he was alone

  You’re either or neither

  I tell you again it don’t apply

  Death or life or life or death

  Death is life and life is death

  I gotta use words when I talk to you

  But if you understand or if you don’t

  That’s nothing to me and nothing to you

  We all gotta do what we gotta do

  We’re gona sit here and drink this booze

  We’re gona sit here and have a tune

  We’re gona stay and we’re gona go

  And somebody’s gotta pay the rent

  DORIS: I know who

  SWEENEY: But that’s nothing to me and nothing to you.

  FULL CHORUS: WAUCHOPE, HORSFALL, KLIPSTEIN,

  KRUMPACKER

  When you’re alone in the middle of the night and

  you wake in a sweat and a hell of a fright

  When you’re alone in the middle of the bed and

  you wake like someone hit you in the head

  You’ve had a cream of a nightmare dream and

  you’ve got the hoo-ha’s coming to you.

  Hoo hoo hoo

  You dreamt you waked up at seven o’clock and it’s

  foggy and it’s damp and it’s dawn and it’s dark

  And you wait for a knock and the turning of a lock

  for you know the hangman’s waiting for you.

  And perhaps you’re alive

  And perhaps you’re dead

  Hoo ha ha

  Hoo ha ha

  Hoo

  Hoo

  Hoo

  KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

  KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

  KNOCK

  KNOCK

  KNOCK

  Coriolan

  * * *

  I. Triumphal March

  Stone, bronze, stone, steel, stone, oakleaves, horses’ heels

  Over the paving.

  And the flags. And the trumpets. And so many eagles.

  How many? Count them. And such a press of people.

  We hardly knew ourselves that day, or knew the City.

  This is the way to the temple, and we so many crowding the way.

  So many waiting, how many waiting? what did it matter, on such a day?

  Are they coming? No, not yet. You can see some eagles. And hear the trumpets.

  Here they come. Is he coming?

  The natural wakeful life of our Ego is a perceiving.

  We can wait with our stools and our sausages.

  What comes first? Can you see? Tell us. It is

  5,800,000 rifles and carbines,

  102,000 machine guns,

  28,000 trench mortars,

  53,000 field and heavy guns,

  I cannot tell how many projectiles, mines and fuses,

  13,000 aeroplanes,

  24,000 aeroplane engines,

  50,000 ammunition waggons,

  now 55,000 army waggons,

  11,000 field kitchens,

  1,150 field bakeries.

  What a time that took. Will it be he now? No,

  Those are the golf club Captains, these the Scouts,

  And now the société gymnastique de Poissy

  And now come the Mayor and the Liverymen. Look

  There he is now, look:

  There is no interrogation in his eyes

 
Or in the hands, quiet over the horse’s neck,

  And the eyes watchful, waiting, perceiving, indifferent.

  O hidden under the dove’s wing, hidden in the turtle’s breast,

  Under the palmtree at noon, under the running water

  At the still point of the turning world. O hidden.

  Now they go up to the temple. Then the sacrifice.

  Now come the virgins bearing urns, urns containing

  Dust

  Dust

  Dust of dust, and now

  Stone, bronze, stone, steel, stone, oakleaves, horses’ heels

  Over the paving.

  This is all we could see. But how many eagles! and how many trumpets!

  (And Easter Day, we didn’t get to the country,

  So we took young Cyril to church. And they rang a bell

  And he said right out loud, crumpets.)

  Don’t throw away that sausage,

  It’ll come in handy. He’s artful. Please, will you

  Give us a light?

  Light

  Light

  Et les soldats faisaient la haie? ILS LA FAISAIENT.

  II. Difficulties of a Statesman