PARASITE: Ah now man, don’t be talkin’ to me, don’t be talkin’ to me. Because I take me stand on communism, the boss class is goin’ to let me starve to death. Is you and me goin’ to stand for that?
TRAMP: Begob I think you’re as much entitled to a feed as the next man.
(MR. CRICKET enters, rattling and chirping merrily.)
MR. CRICKET: Are oo here? Where are oo, acushla? Where are oo hidin’ on me? Guess what I brought oo!
DUCK: (Suddenly appearing behind him.) AHA!
TRAMP: (Roaring in alarm.) Hey—mind yerself, MIND YERSELF!
PARASITE: Now listen be a wise man like me and keep yer nose out of what doesn’t concern you. Don’t get mixed up in annybody else’s row. You’ll get all the trouble you want without lookin’ for it.
MR. CRICKET: Yerra girl where are oo?
(DUCK suddenly kills him and drags him off.)
TRAMP: O Lord save us—Lord save us. Did you see that? What are we goin’ to do at all—IS THERE NO WAY OF STOPPIN THIS BLOODY SLAUGHTER?
PARASITE: What did I tell you? Did you expect any dacency or principles from that baucaugh-shool? Murder, that’s his dish. Three crickets he’s had already and me standin’ here with me backbone out through me stomach with the hunger. Would you blame me for being a communist?
(DUCK quickly re-appears from nest, speaking to the DUCKLING.)
DUCK: No, old girl, can’t wait. More work to do, you knaow, Cheerypip! I’ll be back soon. (Exit.)
PARASITE: I wonder what class of a place has your man above there in that cave. Keep nix there like a dacent man till I have a screw.
(He enters the nest.)
TRAMP: Well bad an’ all as real people like me is, we’re not as bad as that. We don’t be killin’ and atin’ each other, we just work hard and try and make a couple of bob, scrape together a few little savins, a little pile. Blast it, I’m crazy, that’s what them bloody beetles does be at. Be God maybe it’s all the wan. I don’t know. It’s haird. It’s very haird but it’s very interesstin’.
EGG: I feel absolutely . . . bulging . . . with life and vitality. I’m nearer being born than ever.
TRAMP: You’re havin’ a great time in there.
PARASITE: (Falling down out of the nest, bloated, helpless and hiccupping.) Ha-ha-ha! Boys-a-dear! Th’oul bags kept any God’s amount of stuff above there for that lousy-lookin’ flea-bitten brat he has there, all classes of—hup—lovely juice—hup—grubsteaks, I declare be the powers that I’ve—hup—stuffed meself till I can’t talk. Hup!
TRAMP: And how about the yella duckling, did she not bite the nose off you?
PARASITE: Her? I swallyed her too, claw, beak and feathers. I look after Number One. I leave nothin’ behind me, believe you me.
TRAMP: I see. You’re a communist all right, there’s no doubt about that. You dirty lookin’ bags.
CURTAIN
ACT III
Back of stage is undisclosed. TRAMP is again lying in the foreground, musing.
TRAMP: It’s very haird . . . but it’s very interesstin’—them little buggers with all the legs on them is queer little men. Don’t give a damn for one another—every man for himself. You ate me or I’ll ate you.
EGG: (Shouting.) The universe approaches its supreme crisis. Soon it will be liberated, calm, triumphant. I am about to be born.
TRAMP: Now take your man. He thinks he’s Number One. Never heard of annybody he likes as well as himself. He thinks he’s the whole bloody world. And look at the size of him, stuffed into a bloody egg, a thing I’d ate for breakfast without lookin’ at it. Of course I know what’s wrong with all these lads. They’ve no proper system or way of workin’. They’re not organized if you understand me.
EGG: Strange lights are glowing, strange sweet sounds are thickening the air, a frightful and majestic cataclysm is at hand.
TRAMP: Begob I think I’ve put me finger on it there. That’s the difference between meself and me likes and them lads. We have a system, a proper way of workin’. We have what they call a plan. Every man with his own job, all workin’ away together for the good of all. What they call the Nation.
EGG: I will soar aloft, traverse vast spaces, accomplish miraculous tasks. I am nearly born!
TRAMP: Begorrah now, I think that’s about the size of it. Human beins’ is civilized because they do be workin’ for one another and workin’ together. But these mad whores here do be atin’ one another. And that’s just the difference between the two. (He begins feeling himself and the ground about him.) Ay, what’s this? ANTS, be God! Millions of the buggers—I must be sittin’ on an anthill. . . .
(Meanwhile the curtain has risen to reveal the Ant Hill, a featureless and uneven situation crowded with ever-moving ants; they carry confused objects that look like tools and each drags along a round white object. In the centre an ant wearing a card marked BLIND sits and counts continuously. The ants speak with a most pronounced Belfast accent.)
BLIND ANT: Wun tew three fore, wun tew three fore. . . .
TRAMP: Ay, what’s this? What’s goin’ on here? What are you countin’ for, Jem?
BLIND ANT: Wun tew three fore. . . .
TRAMP: Ay, come here Jem, what’s the countin’ for? Is this a factory or what?
BLIND ANT: Wun tew three fore. . . .
TRAMP: Do you hear me—WHAT’S GOIN’ ON? Look at the way all the lads are movin’ in step to the blind fella. Begob you’d swear they were all worked be clockwork!
BLIND ANT: Wun tew three fore. . . .
(CHIEF ENGINEER rushes in.)
CHIEF ENGINEER: Come awn now—quacker, d’ye hear me—quacker, wun tew three fore.
(They all move quicker.)
TRAMP: (Shouting.) Ay, you, what’s goin’ on here? What class of work is this? Is this a bloomin’ factory?
CHIEF ENGINEER: Hoo orr yew ond what’s yoor busness here?
TRAMP: What do you mean ‘business’?
CHIEF ENGINEER: Whuch of the awnts do ye wont tay see?
TRAMP: Now listen here to me, I’m a man, d’you understand, A MAN. I’m not an ant and I don’t want to have anny conversations with anny ant, I’m not as far-gone as that yet.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Thus us the Prawvince of the Awnts, yoo’ve no reight to be here at all if yoo’re not an awnt.
TRAMP: Is that so. Well it’ll take more than you to shift me.
(2ND ENGINEER runs in.)
2ND ENGINEER: A grawnd new discovery, Ah’ve discovered something grawnd!
CHIEF ENGINEER: What us it?
2ND ENGINEER: A new way of mackin’ them wurk quacker! Don’t count wun tew three fore. Are ye lustenin’ to me, Bliend Fella?
BLIND ANT: Wun tew three fore . . .
2ND ENGINEER: Naw naw, yew’re wrong, blank tew three fore, blank tew three fore.
(The ants move more quickly still.)
TRAMP: Do you know what I’m goin’ to tell you, you’re makin’ my head go round worse than anny feed of malt ever did. I’m dizzy!
2ND ENGINEER: Ond hoo is thus mon?
TRAMP: I’m a person from other parts.
2ND ENGINEER: Where frum, did ye say?
CHIEF ENGINEER: He’s a thing from what ye mieght call the Hewman Awnt Heap, do ye ondherstawnd me.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond where is thon in Go-id’s name?
TRAMP: Ah yerra miles away man. It’s here too, of course. You’ll find my kind of lads everywhere.
2ND ENGINEER: Ah thank yoo’re a wee fool.
TRAMP: People like me is the lords of creation. That’s a quare one for you!
2ND ENGINEER: Ha-ha-ha, the lowerds of creation!
CHIEF ENGINEER: We’re the only peepil thot motter.
2ND ENGINEER: We’re the bawsses, do ye ondherstawnd.
CHIEF ENGINEER: We’re the mawsters.
2ND ENGINEER: Thae mawsters of the Awnt Kingdom.
CHIEF ENGINEER: The biggest of all the Awnt Kingdoms!
2ND ENGINEER: Ond the bee-est.
CHIEF EN
GINEER: Ond the strongest, do ye ondherstawnd!
2ND ENGINEER: Ond the most loyal!
CHIEF ENGINEER: The Awnt State will feight ond the Awnt State wull be rieght!
TRAMP: I . . . beg . . . your . . . par-din?
2ND ENGINEER: We wurk to keep in step!
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond to show we’re loyal!
2ND ENGINEER: Ond to show we don’t care a domn for thon Awnt over in Rome!
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond to show we’re hord-headed, do ye ondherstawnd!
TRAMP: (Incredulously.) I see. I’m sure them’s all very good reasons but I don’t understand them right. What’s all this rushin’ around for?
2ND ENGINEER: Thus us a grawnd big foctory, d’ye see, for mackin’ things.
CHIEF ENGINEER: For mackin ships ond trains ond nuts ond bolts.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond onny soert of a thang thot’s hard, do ye ondherstawnd.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Because we’re very hord-headed awnts.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond because we’re port of the Empiere.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond because we keep in step.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond show avrybody we’re loyal, d’ye see.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond because we know what’s what.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond because thon awnts in the south is jalous of us.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond because thon porties hov tacken down the flag of the Good Awnts ond poot up some other flag.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond because they’re not loyal, d’ye see.
CHIEF ENGINEER: They’ll do what thon awnt over in Rome tals them.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond thot’s whey they all tok Latin.
CHIEF ENGINEER: A dad longuage.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond they want to mack us tok Latin too.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond hov it taught in the schools.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond hov it shoved down the wee awnts nacks.
CHIEF ENGINEER: A dad longuage.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond no good to onyone that hos to eemigrate to gat a luvin’.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond they won’t hov anybody tokin’ the Good Awnts’ longuage.
2ND ENGINEER: Naw, they want a dad longuage.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Thot’s no good anywhere excapt in Rome.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond thot’s whey we’re wurkin’ so hard mackin’ hard things.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Tay show we’re loyal.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond hord-headed.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond ready to fieght for the rieght to keep in stap.
2ND ENGINEER: In stap with the Awnt Empiere.
CHIEF ENGINEER: On which the sun never sats.
2ND ENGINEER: Tha grawndest empiere in the wurld.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond the richest empiere.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond the empiere where there’s no Latin tokd.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Up his mojesty the king awnt!
2ND ENGINEER: Ond to hal with thon awnt in Rome!
TRAMP: Yerra I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about and yo don’t aither. Sure all ants is the same. They’re all little round dark fellas. They only think they’re different. You’re all crazy, gettin’ into a sweat about nothin’.
CHIEF ENGINEER: We’ll fieght for the rieght to be loyal.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond the rieght to keep in stap.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond the rieght to axport the hard things we’re mackin’ in this foctory.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond we’ll fieght for our holy ralugion.
BLIND ANT: Blank tew three fore, blank tew three fore. . . .
2ND ENGINEER: Quacker! We’re wastin’ time. Quacker, quacker!
CHIEF ENGINEER: The horder we wurk, the safer we are from those bawd awnts in the south.
TRAMP: But sure them other ants you’re talkin’ about isn’t bitin’ you at all. Take it aisy now. And don’t keep on repeatin’ them slogans you have or I’ll be believin’ them meself next.
CHIEF ENGINEER: We’re defandin’ our honour!
2ND ENGINEER: Ond the honour of all our dead awnts of glorious and immortal mamory.
CHIEF ENGINEER: (Roaring at the ants.) QUACKER! QUACKER!!
TRAMP: (Musing.) I don’t know. What would happen if they all sat down and took a rest? Nothing.
BLIND ANT: Blank tew three fore, blank tew three fore. . . .
TRAMP: These poor whores has a lot of oul chat off be heart and they keep sayin’ it and sayin’ it and workin’ for it and workin’ for it. And what harm but it means nothin’ as far as I can see.
2ND ENGINEER: Quacker, Quacker!
TRAMP: I wonder who told them all them yarns.
(An ant collapses, dying.)
2ND ENGINEER: Whot’s thon? Quacker, quacker!
CHIEF ENGINEER: Blank tew three fore. Carry him off, quack! Tack away the body. Blank tew three fore!
2ND ENGINEER: He died because he’s loyal, he died for the empiere of the Good Awnts.
CHIEF ENGINEER: (Shouting.) Luft him up rieght and tack him out quack! Yew’re wastin’ time, d’ye see. Hurry, quacker!
TRAMP: Well begob you can’t say he wasted anny time himself when he was dyin’. He passed out like a lighted match, the poor bastard.
2ND ENGINEER: He died because he was tryin’ to keep in stap.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond now he’s a glorious awnt of immortal memory. Quacker! Blank tew three fore.
(Enter a POLITICIAN, groping, lost in thought.)
POLITICIAN: Get away now ond don’t talk to me. I’m thankin’.
2ND ENGINEER: Thon’s our wee head Politician.
POLITICIAN: Ah’ve got a grawnd idea for a new slogan. Don’t say a word, don’t mack any noise. I’m thankin’.
2ND ENGINEER: Do ye mind that now.
POLITICIAN: A grawnd . . . new . . . poleetical . . . slogan, d’ye see.
CHIEF ENGINEER: A slogan that’ll mack them work horder ond be more hord-headed!
POLITICIAN: A slogan that’ll mack them fieght ond be right ond be loyal ond keep in stap. Stop, now, I nearly have it!
2ND ENGINEER: Be quiet, the Politeecian is thankin’.
CHIEF ENGINEER: On thot’s what we’re bodly in need of—a grawnd new slogan, d’ye see.
POLITICIAN: A slogan that’ll mack them join the Ormy in thousands and mullions ond hundreds of mullions of thousands, tans of thousands of mullions of mullions.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond die in mullions to keep in stap.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond to show they’re hord-headed ond loyal.
POLITICIAN: Och, it’s swirlin’ around unside my head, a grawnd new slogan, Ah’ll have it in a minit, don’t any-body say a wurd now.
2ND ENGINEER: The Politeecian is thankin’ hord.
CHIEF ENGINEER: He’s a grawnd genius, the Politeecian, Ah don’t know where we’d be without him so Ah don’t.
2ND ENGINEER: He’s the greatest Politeecian in the whole wurld!
CHIEF ENGINEER: He’s the most voluable thing we have.
2ND ENGINEER: Shure if we hodn’t him we wouldn’t have war. Ond then we couldn’t be loyal ond hord-headed.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Aye, war. WAR! We’ll soon have war. Ond we’ll want thon new slogan.
2ND ENGINEER: For to get mullions and mullions into the Ormy.
CHIEF ENGINEER: The Green Awnts in the south will force war on us ond try ond mack us talk Lotin.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond force it down the throats of the wee awnts.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond try ond mack them disloyal.
2ND ENGINEER: Ond shame all our dead awnts of glorious ond immortal mamory.
CHIEF ENGINEER: But us awnts’ll fieght ond us awnts’ll be rieght.
2ND ENGINEER: Aye surely.
CHIEF ENGINEER: (Shouting suddenly.) Quacker, quacker, quacker! Blank tew three fore! Get intil trainin’ because we’re goin’ to have war!
2ND ENGINEER: War for our homes and our holy relugion!
CHIEF ENGINEER: War against the dirty Green Awnts.
TRAMP: Now don’t tell me there’s goin’ to be more slaughter. Can’t yez stop fightin’ and atin’ one another at a
ll?
CHIEF ENGINEER: It’s us or them, d’ye ondherstawnd?
2ND ENGINEER: Thon’s a massinger comin’. A massinger!
CHIEF ENGINEER: A massinger! With news of war!
(Enter a MESSENGER.)
MESSENGER: Ah beg to report, sir.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond what’s your massage, say it quack.
MESSENGER: Ah’m from the Ormy G.H.Q., sir.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Well hurry on, what’s your massage?
MESSENGER: The Green Awnts was chasin’ a sick beetle for to eat it.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond it came into our territory?
MESSENGER: Yes sir.
CHIEF ENGINEER: In clear defiance of international law.
MESSENGER: Yes sir. Ond it died in our territory sir.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond they want us to give it back to them? Notwithstanding the fact that mullions of our own awnts are starving for the want of good food?
MESSENGER: Yes sir.
CHIEF ENGINEER: Ond what did they say? What cheeky impartinent massage did they send about it?
MESSENGER: This is it, sir.
(Hands over a letter.)
CHIEF ENGINEER: What do the bostards say? (Opens letter and reads.) The Government of the Green Awnts prasants their compliments ond would like the parmussion of the Yellow Awnts to come intil their tarritory for to retrieve the dead beetle rightly belonging to the Green Awnts aforesaid. Signed by Deevil . . . Deevil so-ond-so. Well there’s not much in thon latter. They’ll get no permussion so they’ll not. They’ll get no permussion for to tack away the beetle. The beetle is our propty by international law.
2ND ENGINEER: (Coming forward and peering at letter.) But what’s thon? There’s a P.S. there.
CHIEF ENGINEER: A P.S.? Och so there is. What does it say? P.S. Eff ye don’t give permussion we’ll come ond get it anyway. Yours sincerely, the Green Awnts.
2ND ENGINEER: A threat! An ultimatum!
CHIEF ENGINEER: War! A holy war!
2ND ENGINEER: Our exastince is threatened!
CHIEF ENGINEER: A tarrible war to preserve our weemen and children. Call everybody to arms!
2ND ENGINEER: Mobilise! To orms, to orms!
CHIEF ENGINEER: The foul and patiless enemy is forcing us to defand ourselves. To orms!
(There is general excitement and rushing about on the part of the ants. Several begin to appear with crude weapons. A strange and opulentlooking ant enters.)