Darkness everywhere. The TRAMP, picked out by a faint light, is lying in the foreground sleeping. He stirs uneasily and speaks in his sleep.
TRAMP Take yer hands offa me now — take yer hands off me: What? What’d you say? I beg your pardin? STOP BATIN’ THAT FELLA! Stop killin’ him! Gou-athat! Take yer sting and pump it into some-wan else! Keep yer distance or I’ll destroy yeh! D’yeh hear me?
Pause.
Then in a pathetic voice:
I don’t feel too well at all. I’m not in me right health. I wouldn’t like to pass out here in the dairk … all be meself. Give us a bit of light there, some wan …
CYRIL (Far off) Cec-eel, where are you?
CHIEF ENGINEER Avvery mon, wooman ond wee wan to the front now. Quack morch!
MR BEETLE Ay, where’s me pile gone to? D’yeh hear me? Where’s me pile? WHERE’S ME PILE?
CYRIL (Calling softly) O Cec-eeeeeeeel…
TRAMP Will yez stop blatherin’ in the dark and show a light till I see am I alive at all! I don’t want to be stung again be that bloody big bee I seen sitting in a deck chair!
DRONE Princes and noble lords, what answer shall I make to this base man? I say, thou liest, and will maintain what thou hast said is false in thy heart-blood, though being all too base to stain the temper of my knightly sword.1
TRAMP (Awed) I beg yer pardin?
DUCK (Appearing under a ghostly spotlight in the background stalking an invisible cricket.) Nearly got the blighter. Four today and one more makes five.
Lunges forward and there is a scream as the light goes out.
TRAMP You’ve killed him! (Excitedly) You’ve killed another one! Can yeh not stop killin’ and slaughterin’? CAN YEH NOT BE AISY AND LAVE OTHER PEOPLE ALONE?
EGG (Revealed by dim spotlight and seen to be moving slightly) I’ll get out of this if it’s the last thing I do, if it’s the last thing I do I’ll break this bloody shell. I’ll be here soon, make no mistake at all about that!
CYRIL (Afar off, perplexed) Do tell me, Cec-eel, where are you, old boy.
TRAMP Begob I believe I’m goin’ off me rocker.
MR BEETLE Listen here, WHERE’S THAT BALL? Where’s me capital?
TRAMP That’s that bloody beetle, I’d know the voice anywhere.
The spotlight reveals dimly a beetle sneaking in and starting to roll away the EGG.
EGG Help! HELP! Stop! Stop that!
BEETLE Shut up or I’ll ate yeh here!
EGG HELP! HELP! I want to be born! He’s going to kill me! HELP!
TRAMP (Rising on elbow) Ay! You leave that bloody poor little egg alone — d’yeh hear me?
The ‘hideous cries’ are gathering in the background and now rise in crescendo. Confusion grows.
TRAMP Leave that egg alone. My God, more slaughter, more bloody slaughter!
CHIEF ENGINEER (Invisible) The agg is port of our nawshional haritage! Defand it with your lives! Quack morch! Quack morch!
The dim light reveals that several beetles have rushed to contest the ownership of the EGG. Several ants join in and a great battle starts: screams and roars and general din.
TRAMP (Rising excitedly) DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? Didn’t you hear me tellin’ yeh to lave that egg alone? OUT OF ME WAY! If yez harum that egg I’ll have yer bloody lives! OUT OF ME WAY!
He is seen in the gloom to plunge madly into the battle, tripping and falling down among the milling insects. Soon his own horrible cries mingle with those of the others.
TRAMP Stop that! STOP! Yez are killin’ me. YEZ ARE ATIN’ ME! Ow —!
The row dies down gradually and darkness has descended. There is silence. Birds twitter and the dawn breaks. The TRAMP is revealed in a crumpled heap with frost on his clothes. Beside the body is an ordinary broken egg-shell. Two mooning lovers stroll in, the BOY’S arm round the GIRL’S waist. They start slightly at the spectacle of the TRAMP.
GIRL O George, look!
BOY Janey, a beggar! He’s asleep!
GIRL Look at the bottle. He’s drunk. He must have been lying there all night. O George, I hate drunkards.
BOY How do you know I’m not one myself! Or that I won’t be when we’re married. How would you like me to go out every Friday and drink the week’s wages. And leave nothing to buy food for you and the kids.
GIRL (Coy whimsy stuff) O George, how do you know we are going to have kids. You’re a very bold boy.
They begin to move off and exit.
BOY Well now you know. We’re going to have four kids — two girls and two boys. Not girls and boys following each other, of course, A boy, then a girl, and so on.
GIRL O George …
Exit. A ball runs across the stage followed by two ragged small BOYS, shouting. They stop and regard the TRAMP.
1st SMALL BOY Aw look at the man.
2nd SMALL BOY He’s asleep
1st SMALL BOY Maybe he’s dead. (He runs to retrieve ball.)
2nd SMALL BOY My daddy’s dead and mammy’s goin’ to marry Mr Conlan.
1st SMALL BOY I wouldn’t mind your ould wan.
They chase the ball off the stage again. Enter KEEPER.
KEEPER Ay what’s this. What’s going on here. My God, has this bloody fellow been here all night!
Very concerned, he kneels and examines the TRAMP. He rises, enor mously excited.
KEEPER My God, he’s dead. There’ll be a bloody row about this. (He picks up bottle and smells it.) Whiskey. There’ll be hell to pay. (He roars for a brother keeper.) Hey! Slattery! SLATTERY! Come over here! Quick!
SLATTERY, a youth, comes running in.
SLATTERY What’s up?
KEEPER This unfortunate man’s dead. Give me your coat.
He covers corpse with overcoat.
SLATTERY Dead? Was he here all night?
KEEPER He was and whoever locked him in is going to get into a row. And it wasn’t me, Slattery.
SLATTERY The poor unfortunate divil.
The lovers come back, attracted by the row; they are soon followed by the small BOYS, possibly reinforced in numbers.
KEEPER Phone for the ambulance, Slattery. STAND BACK NOW PLEASE. EVERYTHING’S ALL RIGHT.
GIRL Is he dead?
KEEPER Everything’s all right now. Stand back please.
GIRL O George!
BOY He’s better out of it the poor divil.
1st SMALL BOY The man’s dead.
GIRL O George, the poor man. The poor man.
BOY Do you see the eggshell. I suppose a little chicken was born out of it. Chicken starts out as this man finishes up …
KEEPER It’s a Duck’s egg. Now yez’ll all have to move on please. We don’t want any crowds collectin’.
2nd SMALL BOY Aw come on, come on home. I want to get me boat. Come on Paddy.
1st SMALL BOY All right come on.
They trail off to exit. Immediately a LITTLE GIRL’s voice is heard off, from the other side.
LITTLE GIRL Paddy! PAD—EE! Wait for me!
She hurries in to follow them and crosses stage, pushing an enormous pram.
KEEPER Gob, I never seen so many children.
CURTAIN
1 Richard II, 4:1:19–20, 26–9. The speaker is Aumerle, the ‘base man’ Bagot. Perhaps weary by this time, the Drone makes prose out of Shakespeare’s blank verse:
Princes and noble lords.
What answer shall I make to this base man?
I say thou liest,
And will maintain what thou hast said is false
In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
To stain the temper of my knightly sword.