by Eliot · Cluster: Spiritual Emptiness · Waste Land (Sterility) · Greek Tragedy
Abstract
Aristophanic melodrama fragment with Orestes/St John of the Cross epigraphs: cards, a coffin, a murder, the hangman; birth-copulation-death and pursuing guilt.
Connections
Topoi: Katabasis Descent Archetypes: Outsider Motifs: Death, Dreams, Music and Song, Wine and Drink Themes & Concepts: Spiritual Emptiness, Waste Land (Sterility), Guilt, Terror and Horror, Alienation Forms & Genres: Verse Drama, Fragment Historical References: Greek Tragedy Settings: London Characters: Sweeney
Testo integrale / Full text
| Chi parla | Battuta |
|---|---|
| (didascalia) | Sweeney Agonistes Fragments of an Aristophanic Melodrama Orestes: You don’t see them, you don’t — but I see them: they are hunting me down, I must move on. Choephoroi. Hence the soul cannot be possessed of the divine union, until it has divested itself of the love of created beings. St. John of the Cross. Fragment of a Prologue |
| DUSTY | DORIS. |
| DUSTY | How about Pereira? |
| DORIS | What about Pereira? I don’t care. |
| DUSTY | You don’t care! Who pays the rent? |
| DORIS | Yes he pays the rent |
| DUSTY | Well some men don’t and some men do Some men don’t and you know who DORIS:You can have Pereira |
| DUSTY | What about Pereira? |
| DORIS | He’s no gentleman, Pereira: You can’t trust him! |
| DUSTY | Well that’s true. He’s no gentleman if you can’t trust him And if you can’t trust him — Then you never know what he’s going to do. |
| DORIS | No it wouldn’t do to be too nice to Pereira. |
| DUSTY | Now Sam’s a gentleman through and through. |
| DORIS | I like Sam |
| DUSTY | I like Sam Yes and Sam’s a nice boy too. He’s a funny fellow |
| DORIS | He is a funny fellow He’s like a fellow once I knew. He could make you laugh. |
| DUSTY | Sam can make you laugh: Sam’s all right |
| DORIS | But Pereira won’t do. We can’t have Pereira |
| DUSTY | Well what you going to do? |
| TELEPHONE | Ting a ling ling Ting a ling ling |
| DUSTY | That’s Pereira |
| DORIS | Yes that’s Pereira |
| DUSTY | Well what you going to do? |
| TELEPHONE | Ting a ling ling Ting a ling ling |
| DUSTY | That’s Pereira |
| DORIS | Well can’t you stop that horrible noise? Pick up the receiver |
| DUSTY | What’ll I say? |
| DORIS | Say what you like: say I’m ill, Say I broke my leg on the stairs Say we’ve had a fire |
| DUSTY | Hello Hello are you there? Yes this is Miss Dorrance’s flat — Oh Mr. Pereira is that you? how do you do! Oh I’m so sorry. I am so sorry But Doris came home with a terrible chill No, just a chill Oh I think it’s only a chill Yes indeed I hope so too — Well I hope we shan’t have to call a doctor Doris just hates having a doctor She says will you ring up on Monday She hopes to be all right on Monday I say do you mind if I ring off now She’s got her feet in mustard and water I said I’m giving her mustard and water All right, Monday you’ll phone through. Yes I’ll tell her. Good bye. Goooood bye. I’m sure, that’s very kind of you. Ah-h-h |
| DORIS | Now I’m going to cut the cards for to-night. Oh guess what the first is |
| DUSTY | First is. What is? |
| DORIS | The King of Clubs |
| DUSTY | That’s Pereira |
| DORIS | It might be Sweeney |
| DUSTY | It’s Pereira |
| 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! |
| (didascalia) | (Whistle outside of the window.) |
| DUSTY | Well I never What a coincidence! Cards are queer! |
| (didascalia) | (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 CRY what shall I cry? All flesh is grass: comprehending The Companions of the Bath, the Knights of the British Empire, the Cavaliers, O Cavaliers! of the Legion of Honour, The Order of the Black Eagle (1st and 2nd class), And the Order of the Rising Sun. Cry cry what shall I cry? The first thing to do is to form the committees: The consultative councils, the standing committees, select committees and sub-committees. One secretary will do for several committees. What shall I cry? Arthur Edward Cyril Parker is appointed telephone operator At a salary of one pound ten a week rising by annual increments of five shillings To two pounds ten a week; with a bonus of thirty shillings at Christmas And one week’s leave a year. A committee has been appointed to nominate a commission of engineers To consider the Water Supply. A commission is appointed For Public Works, chiefly the question of rebuilding the fortifications. A commission is appointed To confer with a Volscian commission About perpetual peace: the fletchers and javelin-makers and smiths Have appointed a joint committee to protest against the reduction of orders. Meanwhile the guards shake dice on the marches And the frogs (O Mantuan) croak in the marshes. Fireflies flare against the faint sheet lightning What shall I cry? Mother mother Here is the row of family portraits, dingy busts, all looking remarkably Roman, Remarkably like each other, lit up successively by the flare Of a sweaty torchbearer, yawning. O hidden under the … Hidden under the … Where the dove’s foot rested and locked for a moment, A still moment, repose of noon, set under the upper branches of noon’s widest tree Under the breast feather stirred by the small wind after noon There the cyclamen spreads its wings, there the clematis droops over the lintel O mother (not among these busts, all correctly inscribed) I a tired head among these heads Necks strong to bear them Noses strong to break the wind Mother May we not be some time, almost now, together, If the mactations, immolations, oblations, impetrations, Are now observed May we not be O hidden Hidden in the stillness of noon, in the silent croaking night. Come with the sweep of the little bat’s wing, with the small flare of the firefly or lightning bug, ‘Rising and falling, crowned with dust’, the small creatures, The small creatures chirp thinly through the dust, through the night. O mother What shall I cry? We demand a committee, a representative committee, a committee of investigation RESIGN RESIGN RESIGN |