Brecht Collected Plays: 1: Baal; Drums in the Night; In the Jungle of Cities; Life of Edward II of England; & 5 One Act Plays: "Baal", "Drums in the Night", "In the Jungle of Ci (World Classics) by Bertolt Brecht

around like footballs? Yes or no! It’s rubbish rolling your eyes up to heaven like that.
    ANNA: Yes, Father.
    BALICKE
huffily
: Blub away, then, the floodgates are open. I’m just off to get my life-jacket.
    FRAU BALICKE: Aren’t you in love with Murk at all, then?
    BALICKE: Well, I call that simply immoral!
    FRAU BALICKE: Karl! Well, what about you and Friedrich, Anna?
    ANNA: Of course. But of course you know, and I feel so horribly sick.
    BALICKE: I know nothing at all! I tell you, the fellow’s dead, buried and rotten; all his bones have come apart. Four years! And not a sign of life! And his whole battery blown up! in the air! to smithereens! missing! Not so difficult to say where he has got to, eh? You’re too damned scared of ghosts, that’s what it is. Get yourself a man, and you won’t have to be scared of ghosts any more.
Going up to Anna
,
expansively
. Are you a brave little woman, or aren’t you? Get on with it, then.
    Bell rings
.
    ANNA
frightened
: That’s him!
    BALICKE: Catch him before he comes in, and put him wise.
    FRAU BALICKE
in the door
,
with the dirty clothes basket
: Haven’t you got anything for the laundry?
    ANNA: Yes. No. No, I don’t think I’ve got anything..
    FRAU BALICKE: But today’s the eighth.
    ANNA: The eighth?
    FRAU BALICKE: The eighth, of course.
    ANNA: And what if it was the eighteenth?
    BALICKE: What’s all that chatter in the doorway? Come inside.
    FRAU BALICKE: Well, you’d better see you have got something for the laundry.
Exit
.
    BALICKE
sits down
,
takes Anna on his knee
: Now look, a woman without a husband, that’s a blasphemous business. You’ve been missing that fellow they sent to a better world, right. But would you know him now? Not a bit of it, my dear. Death has turned him into something fit for a freak show. Three years he’s been improving his looks; if he weren’t dead as mutton he’d look very different from what you think. Anyway, he’s dead and buried and not very pretty. He’s got no nose now. But you miss him. So get yourself another man. It’s nature, you see. You’ll wake up like a dog with two tails. You’ve got stout limbs and strong appetites, haven’t you? That’s really not blasphemous, that isn’t.
    ANNA : But I
can’t
forget him. Never. You keep on talking at me, but I
can’t
.
    BALICKE : You take Murk, he’ll help you get over him.
    ANNA : I do love him all the same, and one day I’ll love him only, but not yet.
    BALICKE : He’ll bring you round, girl; all he needs is certain prerogatives, the kind of thing that comes best with marriage. I can’t explain now, I’ll tell you when you’re older.
Tickles her
. Well: is that settled?
    ANNA
laughs salaciously
: I really don’t know if Friedrich wants to.
    BALICKE: Mrs, stick your head in.
    FRAU BALICKE: Come into the lounge, won’t you, Herr Murk, it’s an honour.
    BALICKE : Evening, Murk. Looking like something out of the morgue, eh?
    MURK: Miss Anna!
    BALICKE: What’s the matter? Bottom fallen out of the market? You’re white as a sheet, man. Is it the sound of shooting in the evening air?
Silence
. Come on, Anna, jolly him up.
    Exit expansively with his wife
.
    ANNA : What is it, Friedrich? You really are pale.
    MURK
nosing around
: I suppose the red wine’s for our engagement?
Silence
. Someone been here?
Going up to Anna
. Anybody been here? Why have you gone so white now? Who’s been here?
    ANNA: Nobody! No one’s been here. What’s wrong with you?
    MURK: What’s the hurry about, then? Don’t kid me. Oh, who cares? But I’m not celebrating my engagement in this dump.
    ANNA: Who said anything about engagement?
    MURK: The old girl. The eye of the Lord maketh the cattle fat.
Walking round restlessly
. Oh well, what about it?
    ANNA: You keep acting as if it mattered to my parents. God knows it doesn’t matter to my parents. Not the least little bit.
    MURK: And when did you leave Sunday school?
    ANNA: I just mean you’re taking a good deal for