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Shittr!
Oh! That's a nice way to talk.
Père Ubu, ye are a bloody great oaf.
Why don't I bash your brains in, Mère Ubu.
It's not me you ought to do in, Père Ubu
it's someone else.
By my green candle, I don't understand.
Well, Père Ubu, are ye content with your lot?
By my green candle, shittr, Madame, certainly I am content.
I could be content with less;
I'm a captain of dragoons
I'm King Venceslas' confidential officer
I've been decorated with the Order of the Red Eagle of Poland
I'm ex-king of Aragon; what more do you want?
What!
When you've been king of Aragon–
you're satisfied to lead to the Reviews
a palthy fifty flunkeys armed with nothing but cabbage-cutters
when you could make the crown of Poland
succeed the crown of Aragon on your noddle?
Mm? Mère Ubu, I don't understand
a word of what you're saying.
How stupid you are!
By my green candle, King Venceslas is still very much alive;
and even supposing he dies
hasn't he got hordes of children?
Who's stopping you
from slaughtering the whole family
and putting yourself in their place?
Oh! Mère Ubu, you insult me
and you'll find youself in the stewpan in a minute.
Huh! you poor fish, if I found myself
in the stewpan, who'd mend
the seats of your breeches?
Well, what of it?
Isn't my *** the same as anyone else's?
If I were you, what I'd want to do with my ***
would be to install it on a throne.
You could increase your fortune indefinitely
have sausages whenever you liked
and hide through the strees in a carriage.
If I were king
I'd have a big headpiece made–
like the one I had in Aragon
which those louts of Spaniards stole from me
in such a shameless manner.
And you could get yourself an umbrella
and a great big cloak that would
come right down to your feet.
Ah! I yield to temptation.
Clod of a shittr, shittr of a clod
if ever I meet him on a dark night
he'll go through a bad quarter of an hour.
Oh good, Père Ubu, now you're a real man.
Oh no, though!
I, a captain of dragoons
slay the King of Poland!
I'd rather die.
Oh, shittr!
Then are you going to stay as poor as a rat, Père Ubu?
Gadzookers, by my green candle
I prefer to be as poor as a skinny, honest rat
than as right as a vicious, fat cat.
And the cape? and the umbrella?
and the great big cloak?
And what of them, Mère Ubu?
Fart, shittr
it's hard to get him moving
but fart, shittr
I reckon I've shaken him all the same.
Thanks to God and myself
in a week, maybe
I'll be Queen of Poland.
A room in Père Ubu's house.
Huh! our guests are extremely late.
Yes, by my green candle.
I'm starving.
Mère Ubu, you're exceedingly ugly today.
Is it because we have visitors?
Shittr!
Look here, I'm hungry
I'm going to take a bit of this bird.
It's a chicken I believe.
It's not bad.
What are you doing, you ***?
What will our guests have to eat?
Oh, there'll be enough for them.
I won't touch anything else.
Mère Ubu, go over to the window
and see if our guests are coming.
I can't see anything.
Ah! here comes Captain Bordure
with his partisans.
Bur what are you eating, Père Ubu?
Nothing, a bit of veal.
Oh the veal, the veal, vile creature!
He's eaten the veal! Help!
By my green candle, I'll tear your eyes out.
Good day, gentlemen
we were awaiting you impatiently.
Sit down.
Good day, Madame. But where on earth is Père Ubu?
Here I am! here I am!
Damn it, by my green candle
I'm fat enough, I should have thought.
Good day, Père Ubu. Sit down, my man.
Phew! a bit more and I'd have a stove in my chain.
Well, Mère Ubu, what are you giving us today
that's good?
Here's the menu.
Oh, I'm interested in that.
Soupe polonaise
rastrou ribs, veal, chicken
dog pie, turkey's rumps
charlotte russe.
Hey, that's enough, I should think.
Is there any more?
Ice pudding, salad, fruit, dessert, boiled beef
jerusalem artichokes, cauliflower à la shittr.
Huh! do you think I'm the Emperor of Orient that you spend such a lot?
Don't listen to him, he's an imbecile.
Ah! I'll sharpen my teeth on your calves.
Have some dinner instead, Père Ubu.
Here's some polonaise.
Hell, it's awful.
It's certainly not very nice.
Bunch of crooks
what do you want, then?
Oh, I've got an idea.
I'll be back in a minute.
Gentlemen, let's try some veal.
It's very good, I've finished.
Now for the rumps.
Exquisite, exquisite! Long live Mère Ubu.
And you'll soon be saying
long live Père Ubu.
Blockhead, what are you doing?
Taste it.
Mère Ubu, pass me the rastrou cutlets
so that I can serve them.
Here you are.
Outside, everyone!
Captain Bordure, I want to talk to you.
Hey, we haven't had anything to eat.
What d'you mean, you haven't had anything to eat?
Out you go, everybody.
Stay here, Bordure.
Haven't you gone yet? By my green candle
I'll do you in with rastrou ribs.
Oo! Ouch! Help! Defend yourselves! ***! I'm dead!
Shittr, shittr, shittr!
Outside!
I'm cleverer than I thought.
Every man for himself!
Lousy Père Ubu! tratitor and mean skunk!
Ah! they've gone.
I can breathe again.
Come on, Bordure.
Well, Captain, did you have a good dinner?
Very good, Monsieur, except for the shittr.
Huh! the shittr wasn't bad.
There's no accounting for tastes.
Captain Bordure
I've decided to make you Duke of Lithuania.
What?
I thought you were very badly off, Père Ubu.
In a few days, if you choose, I shall reign over Poland.
Are you going to kill Vencaslas?
This fellow's no fool, he's guessed.
If it's a question of killing Vencaslas, I'm on.
I'm his mortal enemy
and I'll answer for my men.
Oh, oh, I'm very fond of you, Bordure.
Pooh, you stink, Père Ubu. Don't you ever wash?
Sometimes.
Never!
I'll tread on your toes.
Big shittr!
Well, Bordure
I've done with you.
But, by my green candle
I swear by Mère Ubu to make you Duke of Lithuania.
But...
Be quiet, my sweet child.
Monsieur, what do you want?
Go away, you bore me.
Monsieur, you are summoned to the King's presence.
Oh shittr! gadzookers! by my green candle
I am discovered. I'll lose my head!
Alas! Alas!
What a feeble man! And there's not much time.
Ah! I've got an idea.
I'll say that it was Mère Ubu and Bordure.
Oh! Fat P. U., if you do that...
Mm! I'll go this minute.
Hi! Père Ubu, Père Ubu, I'll give you some grub.
Oh! Shittr! You're a grub yourself.
The King's palace
Oh! you know, it wasn't me
it was Mère Ubu and Bordure.
What's the matter, Père Ubu?
He's had too much to drink.
Yes, I'm boozed, it's because
I've drunk too much French wine.
Père Ubu, I want to recognise your numerous services
as Captain of Dragoons
and I am making you
Count of Sandomir as from today.
Oh Monsieur Vencaslas
I don't know how to thank you.
Don't thank me, Père Ubu
and be present tomorrow morning
at the great Review.
I'll be there, but be good enough to accept
this little toy whistle.
What do you expect me to do with a toy whistle
at my age?
I'll give it to Bougrelas.
What an *** that Père Ubu is.
Now I'll *** off.
Oh! Ow! Help!
By my green candle
I've ruptured my intestine and busted my dungzine.
Père Ubu
hast hurt thyself?
Yes indeed I have, and I shall certainly pass away.
What will happen to Mère Ubu?
We shall provide for her.
Your kindness knows no bounds.
Yes but, King Venceslas
you won't be any the less slaughtered, you know.
Ubu's house
Well, my good friends
it's high time to decide on our plans for the conspiracy.
Let's hear everybody's views.
First of all I'll tell you mine, if you'll allow me.
Go ahead, Père Ubu.
Well then, my friends
in my opinion we should simply poison the King
by sticking some arsenic in his lunch.
When he starts stuffing himself
he'll fall down dead
and then I'll be King.
Pooh! What a lousy beast.
So what?
Doesn't that suit you?
Then let Bordure say what he thinks.
I think we should give him a terrific blow with a sword
and split him open from head to middle.
Yes, that's noble and gallant.
And what if he starts kicking you?
I remember now that when there's a Review
he wears iron shoes that hurt very badly.
If I had any sense I'd go off and denounce you
to get myself out of this dirty business, and I reckon
he'd give me some cash, as well.
Oh the traitor, the coward, the villain and mean skunk.
Down with Père Ubu!
Hey, gentlemen
keep quiet if you don't want to be put in my pocket.
Anyway
I agree to expose myself to you.
So you, Bordure, make yourself responsible
for splitting open the King.
Wouldn't it be better if we all thew ourselves
on him at once, bawling and shouting?
We might be able to get the troops on our side that way.
Well, this is what we'll do, then.
I'll try and tread on his toes
he'll kick out at me, I'll say
SHITTR to him
and at this signal you'll throw yourselves at him.
Yes, and as soon as he's dead
you'll take his sceptre and crown.
And I'll go off with my men in pursuit of the royal family.
Yes, and I especially recommend
young Bougrelas to you.
Gentlemen
we have forgotten and indispensable ceremony;
we must swear to fight gallantly.
But how can we?
We haven't got a priest.
Mère Ubu will stand in for one.
All right, so be it!
Then you swear
to kill the King properly?
Yes, we swear.
Long live Père Ubu!
The King's palace
Monseiur Bougrelas
you were extremely impertinent this morning
to Monseiur Ubu, Knight of my Orders and Count of Sandomir.
I therefore forbid you
to appear at my Review.
But Venceslas, even your whole family
would not be overmany to defend you.
Madame, I never go back on my word.
You weary me with your idle chatter.
I defer to your wishes, Lord and Father.
Have you decided after all, Sire
to go to this Review?
And why shouldn't I, Madame?
But once again
haven't I seen him in a dream
smiting you with the force of his arms
and throwing you into the Vistula, and an eagle
like the one in the Arms of Poland
placing the crown on his head?
– Whose head? – Père Ubu's.
What nonsense.
Monseiur de Ubu is a most upright gentleman
who would allow himself
to be drawn and quartered to serve me.
What a delusion!
Be quiet, you young lout.
And you, Madame
to prove to you how little I fear Monsieur Ubu
I shall go to the Review as I am
unarmed and without a sword.
Fatal imprudence, I shall never see you alive again.
Come, Ladislas
come, Boleslas.
God and the great Saint Nicholas keep you!
Bougrelas, come into the chapel with me
to pray for your father and your brothers.
The Review grounds
Noble Père Ubu
bring your attendants and take your place
near me for the inspection of the troops.
Be ready, you fellows.
We are coming.
Ah! There's the Horseguards regiment from Dantzick.
Upon my word, they are magnificent.
Do you think so? They look lousy to me.
Look at that one.
How long is it since you washed your face, vile Knave?
But this soldier is very clean.
What's the matter with you, Père Ubu?
This!
Wretch!
Shittr!
Come on, men!
Hurrah!
Advance!
Oh! Help! Holy ***, I'm dead!
What's happening? Draw.
Ah! I've got the crown.
After the other, now.
At the traitors!!
At last I'm beginning to feel reassured.
You have nothing to fear.
Oh! What do I see?
My two brothers being pursued by Père Ubu and his men.
Oh God! Holy ***, they're losing, they're losing ground.
The whole army is following Père Ubu.
The King is no longer there. Horrors! Help!
Boleslas is dead! He's been hit by a bullet.
Hey! Ladislas! Defend yourself! Hurrah, Ladislas!
Oh! he's surrounded.
He's breathed his last. Bordure has cut him in two like a sausage.
Oh! Alas! Those madmen have got into the palace;
they're coming up the stairs.
Oh God, defend us!
Oh! That Père Ubu.
The villain, the wretch, if I had hold of him...
Well, Bougrelas, what do you want to do with me?
Great God!
I shall defend my mother to the death.
The first to take a step is a dead man.
Oh, Bordure, I'm frightened!
Let me get out of here.
Hands up, Bougrelas.
Here, ***, this is for you.
Stand fast, Bougrelas, stand fast.
Bougrelas, we promise to spare your life.
Rogues, topers, hirelings!
Oh! I shall prevail, just the same.
Mother, escape by the secret stairway.
And you, my son, and you?
I'll follow you.
Try and catch the Queen!
Ah! She's got away.
As for you, my lad...
Ah! Great God! This is my vengeance.
Mother, I'm coming!
A cave in the mountains
We shall be safe here.
Yes, I believe so. Bougrelas, help me.
Oh! What's the matter, mother?
I am grievously ill, believe me, Bougrelas.
I have no more than two hours to live.
What! Are you overcome by the cold?
How can I resist so many blows?
The King slain
out family destroyed
and you, a scion of the most noble race
that ever carried a sword
forced to flee into the mountains like a smuggler.
And by whom, great God, by whom?
A vulgar Père Ubu
an adventurer who comes no one knows from where
a vile scoundrel, a disreputable vagabond!
And when I think that my father had decoreated him
and made him a count, and that the next day
the villain was not ashamed to lay hands on him...
Oh Bougrelas, when I remember how happy we were
before that Père Ubu came along. But now, alas!
everything is altered.
It can't be helped. We must wait and hope
and never renounce our rights.
I still hope for you, my dear child, but as for me
I shall never live to see that happy day.
Oh! What's the matter? She pales, she falls. Help!
But I am in a desert! Oh God!
Her heart has stopped beating.
She is dead! Is it possible?
Another victim of Père Ubu!
Oh God!
how sad it is to find oneself alone at fourteen
with a terrible vengeance to pursue.
Ah! what do I see?
All my family
my ancestors...
By what miracle?
Learn, Bougrelas
that during my lifetime
I was Seigneur Mathias of Königsberg
the first King and founder of the House.
I leave our vengeance in your hands.
And let this sword that I give you find no rest
until it shall have dealt death to the usurper.
The King's palace
No, I don't want to!
Do you want to ruin me for these buffoons?
But look, Père Ubu
don't you see that the people are waiting
for the gift of the joyous accession?
If you don't distribute some meat and gold
you'll be overthrown in a couple of hours.
Meat, yes! Gold, no!
Slaughter these old nags
that'll be good enough for such ***.
*** yourself!
How did I get landed with such an animal?
Once and for all, I want to get rich
and I won't part with a sou.
When we have all the wealth of Poland
at our disposal.
Yes, I know that there's a terrific hoard in the chapel
we'll distribute it.
***! if you do that...
But Père Ubu
if you don't distribute anything
the people won't want to pay the taxes.
– Is that really true? – Of course it is.
Oh well, then, I agree to everything.
Get together three millions
cook a hundred and fifity oxen and sheep
especially as I'll have some as well!
The courtyard of the palace, full of people
Here's the King! Long live the King! Hurrah!
Here you are, this is for you.
It didn't particularly amuse me to give you any money
but you know it was Mère Ubu who wanted to.
At least promise me that you'll really pay the taxes.
Yes, yes!
Look, Mère Ubu, how they're fighting over the gold.
What a battle!
It's truly horrible. Pooh!
There's one with his skull split open.
What a wonderful sight!
Bring some more cases of gold.
Let's get them to race.
Yes, that's an idea.
My friends
you see this case full of gold?
It contains 300,000 gold rose nobles in Polish money
and it's genuine.
Those of you who want to race
go down to the end of the courtyard.
Start when I wave my handkerchief
and the first to arrive will get the case.
As for those who don't win
they can share this other case as a consolation prize.
Yes! Long live Père Ubu!
What a good king!
We never saw so much money in Venceslas' time.
Listen to them!
One
two
three
are you ready?
Yes! Yes!
Go!
They're coming! They're coming!
And the on in front is losing ground.
No, he's making it up again.
Oh! he's lost, he's lost! It's over.
It's the other one.
Long live Michel Fédérovitch! Long live Michel Fédérovitch!
Sire, I really don't know how to thank your Majesty.
Oh my dear friend, it's nothing.
Take the case home with you, Michel
and you
share the other.
Take one piece each until there aren't any left.
Long live Michel Fédérovitch!
Long live Père Ubu!
And you, my friends
come and have dinner!
I throw open the doors of the palace to you
come and do justice to my table.
Let's go in! Let's go in!
Long live Père Ubu!
He is the most noble of sovereigns.
The palace
By my green candle
here I am the King of this country
and I've already got myself indigestion
and they're going to bring me my big head piece.
What's is made of, Père Ubu?
because if we are the Sovereigns
we must be economical.
Madame my female
it's made of sheepskin
with a clasp of tie-strings
of dogskin.
That's wonderful
but it's even more wonderful to be King and Queen.
Yes, you were right, Mère Ubu.
We owe a big debt of gratitude
to the Duke of Lithuania.
Who to?
Why, Captain Bordure.
For goodness' sake, Mère Ubu
don't speak to me about that buffoon.
Now that I don't need him any more
he can whistle for it, he won't get his Dukedom.
You are very wrong, Père Ubu
he'll turn against you.
Oh, I'm very sorry for the little man
I worry about him as much as I do about Bougrelas.
And you think we're finished with Bougrelas?
By my financial sabre, of course!
What do you expect him to do to me
that little urchin of fourteen?
Père Ubu
pay attention to what I say.
Believe me
you should try to attach Bougrelas to you
by your good deeds.
Dole out more money?
Not bloody likely!
You've already made me waste at least twenty two millions.
Please yourself, Père Ubu, but you'll find yourself in the soup.
Oh well, you'll be in the soup with me.
Listen, once more, I'm sure that
young Bougrelas will get the better of you
because he has right on his side.
Oh trip!
Isn't it just as good to have wrong on your side as it is to have right?
Pooh, you insult me, Mère Ubu
I'll cut you to pieces.
The great hall of the palace
Bring the Nobles' coffer
and the Nobles' hook
and the Nobles' knife
and the Nobles' book.
And then
bring in the Nobles.
For goodness' sake restrain yourself, Père Ubu.
I have the honour to announce to you
that in order to enrich the Kingdom
I'm going to have all the Nobles put to death
and help myself to their property.
Horrors! Help, people and soldiers!
Bring me the first Noble
and pass me the Nobles' hook.
Those who are condemned to death
will be passed down the trap door
and fall into the basements
of the pig-pinching machine and the cash-room
where they will be disembrained.
Who are you, buffroon?
- Count of Vitepsk. - What's your income?
- Three million rix-dollars. - Condemned!
What beastly savagery!
Second Noble, who are you?
Are you going to answer, buffroon?
Grand Duke of Posen.
Excellent! Excellent!
That's all I want to know.
Down the trap door.
Third Noble, who are you?
You've got an ugly mug.
Duke of Courland, of the towns of Riga, of Revel, and of Mitau.
Good! Fine!
Is that all?
That's all.
Down the trap door, then.
Fourth Noble, who are you?
- Prince of Podolia. - What's your income?
I am ruined.
For that ugly word
down the trap door with you.
Fifth Noble, who are you?
Margrave of Thorn, Palatine of Polock.
That's not much.
Is that all?
It was enough for me.
Oh well, a little's better than nothing.
Down the trap door.
What are you muttering about, Mère Ubu?
You are too bloodthirsty, Père Ubu.
Huh! I'm getting rich!
I'm going to have MY list
of MY property read.
Clerk, read MY list of MY property.
County of Sandomir.
Begin with the princedoms, stupid ***.
Princedom of Podolia
Grand Duchy of Posen
Douchy of Courland
County of Sandomir
County of Videpsk
Palatinate of Polock
Margraviate of Thorn.
- Then what? - That's all.
What
is that all?
Oh well then, come on, Nobles
and as I intend to continue enriching myself
I shall have all the Nobles executed
and thus get hold of all the vacant properties.
Come on, pass the Nobles through the trap door.
Hurry up quicker
I want to
make some laws now.
That'll be something.
First I shall reform the law
after which we shall
proceed to Finance.
We are opposed to all change.
Shittr!
Firstly, magistrates won't be paid any more.
And what shall we live on?
We are poor.
You can have the fines that you impose
and the property of the people
who are condemned to death.
Horrors! Infamy! Shame! Indignity!
We object to passing judgement
under such conditions.
All the magistrates down the trap door!
Here! What are you doing, Père Ubu?
Who'll administer justice now?
Huh!
I shall.
You'll see how well it'll work.
Yes, that'll be a fine mess.
Look, shut up, buffooness.
And now, gentlemen
we shall proceed to Finance.
There's nothing to change.
But I'm going to change everything.
In the first place, I intend to keep
half the taxes for myself.
What d'you think of that?
Gentlemen, we shall institute a tax
of 10 % on property
another on commerce and industry
and a third on marriages
and a fourth on deaths
each of fifteen francs.
But it's idiotic, Père Ubu.
- It's absurd. - You can't make head or tail of it.
What d'you think I am?
Down the trap door with the Financiers.
But look here, Père Ubu
what sort of a King do you think you are
you kill everyone.
Oh shittr!
No more Law
no more Finance.
Don't be afraid, my sweet child.
I'll go myself
from village to village
and collect
the taxes.
A peasant's house in the environs of Warsaw
Listen to this.
The King is dead
so are the Dukes
and young Bougrelas
has fled to the mountains with his mother.
What's more, Père Ubu has seized the throne.
I've heard even more than that.
I've just come from Kraków
where I saw them taking away the bodies
of more than 300 Nobels and 500 magistrates
whom they'd killed, and it seems that they're going to
double the taxes, and that Père Ubu will come
and collect them himself.
Great God! What will become of us?
Père Ubu's a fearful beast and his family, they say
is abominable.
But listen
wouldn't you say that someone
was knocking at the door?
Horngibolets!
Open, by my shittr
by St. John, St. Peter and St. Nicholas!
Open, sabre of finance, horns of finance!
I've come to collect the taxes.
Which of you is the oldest?
What's your name?
Stanislas Leczinski.
Well, then, hornigoblets!
listen well
or these gentlemen will cut off your earens.
But are you going to listen, at least?
But your Excellency hasn't said anything yet.
What! I've been speaking for the last hour.
Do you think I came here to preach in the wilderness?
Far be it from me, such a thought.
Well, I've come to tell you
to order you, and to intimate to you
that you are to produce your cash promptly
or you'll be done in.
Come on, my Lords the Salopins of Finance
convey here the phynancial conveyance.
Sire, we are only down on the register
for a hundred and fifty two rix-dollars
and we have already paid those six weeks ago
come St. Matthew's day.
Very likely
but I've changed the government
and I've had it put in the paper
that all the existing taxes must be paid twice
and those that I shall impose later must be paid three times.
With this system
I shall soon have made my fortune
then I'll kill everybody
and go away.
Monsieur Ubu, have mercy, have pity on us
we are poor citizens.
What do I care? Pay up.
We can't, we've already paid.
Pay up!
or into my pocket with you
with torture and decapitation of the neck and the head.
Hornigoblets!
I am the King, I suppose?
Ah! So that's how it is! To arms!
Long live Bougrelas, by the grace of God
King of Poland and of Lithuania.
Advance, gentlemen of Finance
do your duty.
A dungeon in the fortifications of Thorn
Ah, citizen, so this is where it's got you
you wanted me to pay you what I owed you
and you revolted because I didn't want to.
You started a conspiracy
and here you are in jug.
Horns of finance
it's worked out all right, and the trick has come of so well
that you must be quite pleased with it yourself.
Take care, Père Ubu.
In the five days that you have been King
you have committed more murders than it would take
to damn all the Saints of Paradise.
The blood of the King and of the Nobles
is crying out for vengeance
and its cries will be heard.
Ha, my fine friend
you have a glib tongue.
I don't doubt that if you were to escape
quite a few complications would ensue
but I don't think the dungeons of Thorn
have ever let out
any of the honest fellows
who have been entrusted to them.
And that's why I bid you good night
and I advise you to sleep soundly
although the rats dance quite a nice saraband here.
The Palace in Moscow
Was it you, infamous adventurer
who co-operated in the death
of our cousin Vencaslas?
Sire, grant me your pardon
I was drawn into it by Père Ubu in spite of myself.
Oh what a shocking liar!
Never mind, what do you want?
Père Ubu had me inprisoned on the pretext of conspiracy;
I managed to escape
and galloped my horse for five days and five nights
across the steppes to come
and inspire your gracious pity.
What do you bring me as proof of your submission?
My sword - the sword of a soldier of fortune
and a detailed plan of the town of Thorn.
I'll take the sword, but by St. George, burn the plan.
I don't wish to owe my victory to a piece of treachery.
One of Venceslas' sons, young Bougrelas
is still alive.
I would do anything to re-establish him.
What was your rank in the Polish army?
I was in command of the fifth regiment of Vilna dragoons
and of a company of mercenaries in the service of Père Ubu.
Very well
I'll make you a sub-lieutenant in the 10th Cossack regiment
and woe betide you if you betray me.
If you fight well, you shall be rewarded.
I don't lack courage, Sire.
Good. Disappear from my presence.
Ubu's council chamber
Gentlemen, the session is open
and try and listen properly and keep calm.
First of all we shall deal with finance
and then we'll talk about a little system I've invented
to bring good weather and exorcise rain.
- That's fine, Monsieur Ubu. - What an idiotic man.
Madame of my shittr, look out
for I shan't tolerate your offensive remarks.
I must tell you then, gentlemen
that our finances are not too bad.
A considerable number of dogs in woollen stockings
prowls about the streets every morning
and the Salopins are doing wonders.
On all sides one sees nothing but burnt-out houses
and people bending under the weight of our phynances.
And the new taxes, Monsieur Ubu
are they going well?
Not in the least.
The tax on marriages has only produced
eleven sons so far, even though
Père Ubu pursues people everywhere
to force them to marry.
By my financial sabre, horn of my gibolets, Madame the financess
I have earens to speak with
and you have a mouth to hear me with.
Or rather, no!
You put me off, and it's your fault that I'm stupid.
But Ubu's horns!
Well, come on, what's the matter with the chap?
Get out, oaf, or I'll pocket you
with decapitation and wringing of the legs.
Ah! he's gone
but there's a letter.
Read it.
I think I'm going out of my mind, or else I can't read.
Hurry up, buffooness, it should be from Bordure.
Exactly.
He says that the Czar has welcomed him very kindly
that he's going to invade your States
and re-establish Bougrelas
and that as for you, you'll be killed.
Oho! I'm afraid, I'm afraid! Oh!
Oh! I think I'm going to die.
Oh, poor man that I am!
What will become of me, great God?
That nasty man will kill me.
St. Anthony and all the saints, protect me
I'll give you some phynance and burn candles for you.
Lord, what will become of me?
There's only one way out, Père Ubu.
What's that, my love?
War!!
Great God, how noble!
Yes, and I'll get knocked about some more.
Hurry, let's hurry and organise the army.
And collect the provisions.
And prepare the artillery and fortresses.
And get the money for the troops.
Oh no you don't, not money!
I'll kill you.
I don't want to give out any money.
What next!
I used to be paid to make war, and now
I've got to make it at my own expense.
No, by my green candle, let's go to war
since you are so keen on it, but don't let's pay a sou.
Long live Poland! Long live Père Ubu!f
The camp below Warsaw
Ah! Mère Ubu
give me my breastplace and my little bit of wood.
I shall soon be so weighed down
that I shouldn't be able to walk
even if I was chased.
Pooh, what a coward!
Ah, here's the sabre of shittr running away
and the financial hook that won't stay put.
I'll never be ready
and the Russians are advancing
and they'll kill me.
My lord Ubu, the earens-pick has fallen down.
Methinks I killen you with the shittr hook and the cut throat.
Isn't he handsome with his hemlet and breastplate
he looks like an armed pumpkin.
Ah! now I'm going to mount my horse.
Gentlemen, bring me the phynancial horse.
Père Ubu, your horse won't be able to bear your weight
it hasn't had anything to eat for five days and it's half dead.
That's a good one!
I have to pay twelve sous a day for this old crock
and it can't even bear my weight.
What d'you take me for, Ubu's horns!
or are you robbing me?
Then somebody bring me another beast
but I won't go on foot, horngibolets.
I'll climb on to it.
Oh no, better sit down
or I'll fall off.
Oh, stop my horse, great God, I'll fall off and be dead!!!
He really is an imbecile.
Ah, now he's up again.
But he fell off.
Horn of Physics, I'm half dead.
Never mind
I'm going to war and I'll kill everybody.
And anybody who doesn't obey me -
watch out!
I'll putten him in my pocket
with wringing of the neck and extraction of the tongue.
Good luck, Monsieur Ubu.
I forgot to say
that I leave the regency in your hands.
But I've got the cash book on me
so you'll regret it if you rob me.
I'll leave you the Palotin Giron to help you.
Adieu, Mère Ubu.
Adieu, Père Ubu.
Be sure and kill the Czar.
You bet.
Wringing of the nose and teeth
extraction of the tongue
and driving of the little bit of wood into the earens.
Now that that fat baboon has gone
we'll try and look after ourselves
kill Bougrelas
and grab the treasure.
The crypt of the former kings of Poland in Warsaw cathedral
Where on earth is that treasure?
None of the paving stones sounds hollow.
But I know I counted thirteen stones
after the tomb of Ladislas the Great, keeping to the wall
but there's nothing here.
Some must have misled me.
Just a minute, though:
the stone sounds hollow here.
To work, Mére Ubu.
Courage, let's loosen this stone.
Let's get hold of this end of the financial hook
it'll come in useful.
There it is!
There's the gold
in the middle of the bones of the Kings.
Into our bag with it, then, the whole lot.
Hey! what's that noise?
Could there still be someone alive in these old vaults?
No, it's nothing, let's hurry up.
We'll take the lot.
This money will be better off in the light of day
than in the middle of the tombs of ancient princes.
Let's put the stone back.
What's that?
Still that noise.
My presence in the haunts
occasions a strange dread in me.
I'll take the rest of this gold another time;
I'll come back tomorrow.
Never
Mère Ubu!
The main square in Warsaw
Long live Bougrelas.
Advance, my friends!
Long live Venceslas and Poland.
That old rogue of a Père Ubu has gone
only that hag Mère Ubu and her Palotin are left.
I will march at your head to re-establish
the race of my fathers.
Long live Bougrelas!
And we will abolish all the taxes
imposed by the frightful Père Ubu.
Hurrah! Come on! Let's go off to the Palace
and do away with all that lot!
Hey! Mère Ubu's coming out on to the steps
with her guards!
What do you want, gentlemen?
Oh! It's Bougrelas.
All the windows are broken.
Trow some stones, my friends.
Huh,! So that's how it is!
The two of us! Defend yourself, cowardly rascal.
I die!
Victory, my friends!
Now for Mère Ubu!
Come on, let's get hold of that horrible hellhag!
The Polish army marching in the Ukraine
Hornsblood
godslegs
head of a ***!
We shall perish
because we're dying of thirst and we're tired.
Sir Soldier
be so good as to carry our financial helmet
and you, Sir Lancer
take charge of the shittr-pick
and the constitution stick
to assuage our person
for, I repeat, we are tired.
Hey, monsieuye!
It's odd that the Russians don't put in an appearance.
It is regrettable that our finances
don't permit of our having a carriage
suitable to our size for from fear of demolishing
our mount we have covered all this distance on foot
leading our horse by the reins.
But when we are back in Poland
we shall devise, by means of our knowledge
of the constitution and aided by
the learning of our counsellors
a wind-carriage which will be capable
of transporting the whole army.
Here comes Nicholas Rensky - he seems to be in a hurry.
And what's the matter with the fellow?
All is lost, Sire. The Poles have revolted, Giron has been killed
and Mère Ubu has taken to flight in the mountains.
Nightbird, animal of misfortune
owl in gaiters!
Where have you dug up that nonsense?
Whatever next! And who's responsible for that?
Bougrelas, no doubt.
Where have you come from?
From Warsaw, noble Lord.
Son of my shittr
if I believed you I'd make the whole army turn back.
But, Sir son
your nut consists of more feathers than brain
and you've been dreaming a lot of tripe.
Off you go to the outposts, my son
the Russians aren't far off
and we shall soon have to be letting fly with out arms
with the shittry arms as well as with the phynancial arms
and the physical arms.
Père Ubu, can't you see the Russians on the plain?
It's true, the Russians! I'm in a fine mess.
If there was still some way out, but not at all
we are on the top of a hill and we'll be exposed to every blow.
The Russians!
The enemy!
Come, gentlemen
we must make our preparations for the battle.
We'll stay on the hill
and we won't be so daft as to go down to the bottom.
I'll stay in the middle, like a living stronghold
and you others revolve around me.
I must advise you to put as many bullets in your guns
as they will hold, for eight bullets can kill eight Russians
and I'll have that amount less to deal with.
We'll have the infantry on foot at the bottom of the hill
to receive the Russians and kill them a bit
the cavalry behind to throw themselves into the confusion
and the artillery around that windmill over there
to fire into the lot.
As for us, we'll take our place inside the windmill
and we'll shoot through the window
with the phynancial pistol
we'll put the constitutional stick across the door
and if anyone tries to come in
he'd better look out for the shittr hook!
Your orders, Sire Ubu, shall be executed.
Ha! that's right, we shall be victorius.
- What's the time? - Eleven a.m.
Well then, we'll go and have dinner
for the Russians won't attack before midday.
Tell the soldiers, my Lord General
to relieve themselves and to strike up the Financial song.
Long live Père Ubu
our great Financier!
Oh the gallant fellows, I adore them!
Oh! I'm afraid, Lord God
I'm dead! but no, all the same, I'm all right.
Sire Ubu, the Russians are attacking.
Well, what of it, what do you want me to do about it?
I didn't tell them to attack.
Nevertheless, Financial Gentlemen
we will prepare ourselves for battle.
A second cannon bal!
Oh! I can't stand it any longer.
It's raining lead and iron in these parts
and we might damage our precious person.
Let's go down.
For God and the Czar!
Ah! I am dead.
Forward!
Hey you, Monsieur let me get hold of you
you've hurt me, do you hear? toper!
with your popgun that doesn't go off.
Huh! That's what you think.
Ow! Ouch! I'm wounded
I'm holed, I'm perforated
I'm administered, I'm interred!
Oh, but all the same!
Ah! I've got him.
There you are!
Now are you going to start again?
Forward, push on with vigour, cross the ditch.
Victory is ours.
Think so? So far I've felt more bruises
than laurels on my brow.
Hurrah! make way for the Czar.
Oh Lord! Every man for himself, here's the Czar!
Oh good God, he's crossed the ditch.
*** ***! that's four done for
by that great clodhopper of a lieutenant.
What! haven't you given up yet, you lot?
Here, Jean Sobiesky, here's your reckoning!
Now for the others!
Come on, my friends!
Grab hold of this lout - make mincemeat of the Muscovites!
Victory is ours! Long live the Red Eagle.
Come on! Hurrah!
Godslegs! Grab hold of the big oaf.
By St George, I'm fallen.
Aha! it's you, Bordure!
Ha! my friend. We, and all the company
are very happy to meet you again.
I'm going to cook you by inches.
Light the fire, Financial Gentlemen.
Oh! Ah! Oh! I'm dead.
It must be at least a cannon ball that'*** me.
Ah! my God, forgive me my sins.
Yes, it's certainly a cannon ball.
It's a blank cartridge from a pistol.
Huh! You'd make fun of me, would you! Again!
Into my pocket with him.
Père Ubu, we're advancing on all fronts.
I can see that. I can't go on any longer.
I'm riddled with kicks.
I think I'll sit down on the ground.
Oh, my bottle!
Go and take the Czar's, Père Ubu.
Huh? I will this minute.
Come on, sabre of shittr, do you duty
and you, financial hook, don't be backward.
Let the constitution stick work with noble rivalry
and share with the little bit of wood
the honor of slaying
hollowing out and exploiting the Muscovite Emperor!
Forward, Monsieur our financial horse!
On guard, Majesty!
Holy ***! This madman is chasing me!
What have I done, great God!
Oh my goodness! there's still the ditch to cross.
Oh! I can feel him behind me and the ditch in front.
Courage, let's shut our eyes.
Oh my goodness, I'm in it!
Hurrah! The Czar has fallen.
Oo, I scarcely dare turn round.
He's in it.
Oh, that's good, and they're on him.
Come on then, Poles, go to it with all your might
he can take it, the wretch!
As for me, I don't dare to look at him.
All this is very fine, but no one's listening.
The Russian dragoons charge and rescue the Czar
But come on now, they're at it again.
This time it's a rout.
Hm! this is the moment to do a bunk.
Now then, messieurs the Poles
advance! or rather, retreat!
Every man for himself!
Come on, on your way.
What a gang, what a retreat, what a crowd
how'm I going to get out of this mess?
Hey you! be careful
or you'll experience the fiery valour
of the Master of Phynances.
Ah! he's gone, let's get out of here
and quickly, while Lascy isn't looking.
A cave in Lithuania (it is snowing)
Oh what *** weather
it's freezing like mad
and the person of the Master of Finances
is thereby greatly damaged.
Hey, monsieuye Ubu
have you got over your terror and you flight?
Yes, I'm not frightened any more
but I'm still fleeing.
What a swine!
Hey, Sire Cotice
your earen, how is it?
As well, Monsieur, as it can be
when it's not well at all.
As a conseyquence of the whiche
the lead pushes it over towards the ground
and I haven't been able to extract the bullet.
Well that's all right.
You were always wanting to
beat up other people.
As for me, I've displayed the greatest valour
and without exposing myself
I've slain four enemies with my own hands
without counting all those who were aleady dead
and whom we finished off.
Do you know, Pile, what happened to little Rensky?
He got a bullet through his head.
As the poppy and the dandelion
in the flower of their age
are scythed by the pitiless scythe
of the pitiless scyther
who pitilessly scythes
their pitiful mugs
so little Rensky
has played the role of the poppy -
he fought mighty well, though
but there were also too many Russians.
Grrrhey!
What is it?
Let's protect ourselves with out steelettos.
Oh! no! blimey! more Russians I bet!
I've had enough! but it's quite simple
if they get me
I'll putten them in my pocket.
Hey, monsieuye of Finances!
Oh I say, look at the little bow-wow.
Isn't he sweet.
Look out! Phew, what an enormous bear.
My cartridges!
A bear! Pooh, what a dreadful beast.
Oh, poor man, I'm eaten up.
God protect me. And he's going for me.
No, it's Cotice he's got hold of.
Whew! I can breathe again.
Save me, Pile, save me! help monsieuye Ubu!
Nothing doing!
Look after youself, my friend;
just at the moment we're saying our Pater Noster.
Everyone his turn to be eaten.
I've got him, I've got hold of him.
Hold tight, friend, he's beginning to let go of me
Sanctificetur nomen tuum.
Bloody coward!
Oh! it's biting me. Oh Lord save us, I'm dead.
Fiat voluntas tua!
Ah! I've managed to wound it.
Hurrah! it's bleeding.
Hang on while I get hold of
my explosive knuckle-duster
Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie.
Haven't you got it yet? I can't hold out.
Sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris.
Ah! I've got it.
Victory!
Sed libera nos a malo. Amen.
Well, is it good and dead?
Can I come down from my rock?
When you like.
You can pride yourself that
if you are still living
and if you still trample underfoot
the snow of Lithuania
you owe it to the noble-minded virtue
of the Master of Finances
who strained himself to the uttermost
broke his back and bawled himself hoarse
to churn out paternosters for your salvation
and who wielded the spiritual weapon of prayer
with a courage equal to
the skill you showed in wielding
the temporal weapon of the here-present Palotin Cotice
the explosive knuckle-duster.
We even carried our devotion further
for we did not hesitate to climb on to a higher rock
so that our prayers would have less distance
to travel to reach the heavens.
Revolting oaf!
What a great blockhead you are.
Thanks to me you have something to sup off.
What a stomach, gentlemen!
The Greeks would have been more comfortable in here
than in the wodden horse and, dear friends
we were very nearly able to verify with our own eyes
the capacity of its inside.
I'm dying of hunger.
- What can we eat? - The bear!
Yes, do you hear, Pile? hurry up.
Hurry up both of you!
Put the beast on the spit
cook the beast, I'm hungry.
Oh! that's really too much.
You'll have to work or you won't have any
d'you hear, greedy-guts?
Oh! I don't mind.
I'd just as soon eat it raw, then you'll be had.
Anyway, I'm sleepy.
What can we do, Pile?
Let's make the dinner by ourselves.
He won't have any, that's all.
Or we could give him the bones.
Right. Ah, the fire's burning up.
Oh, that's good
now it's warm.
But I can see the Russians everywhere.
What a retreat, great God!
Ah, Sire Russian dragoon, look out
don't fire in this direction
there's someone here.
Ah! there's Bordure
how unpleasant he is
you'd think he was a bear.
And here's Bougrelas coming after me!
The bear, the bear!
Ah, it's down!
How tough it is, great God!
I don't want to do anything.
Go away, Bougrelas!
Do you hear, scoundrel?
Here's Rensky now, and the Czar!
Oh, they're going to fight me.
And Ma Ubu!
Where did you get all that gold?
You have pinched my gold, you trollop
you've been ferreting around in my tomb
in Warsaw Cathedral, near the moon.
I've been dead a long time
Bougrelas killed me
and I'm buried in Warsaw
near Vladislas the Great
and also in Kraków
near Jean Sigismond
and also in Thorn
in the dungeon
with Bordure.
There it is again.
But will you go away, accursed bear!
You look like Bordure.
Do you hear, satanic beast?
No
he doesn't hear
the Salopins have cut off his earens.
Disembrain them, killen them
cut their earens off
seize their cash
and drink yourself to death
that's the life for a Salopin
and that's happiness
for the Master of Finances.
At last I've reached shelter.
I'm alone here, that's not a bad thing
but what a frightful journey:
imagine crossing the whole of Poland
in four days!
Every misfortune assailed me
at the same time.
The moment that great oaf has gone
I go off to the crypt to make my fortune.
Soon afterwards I'm nearly *** to death
by that Bougrelas and his madmen.
I lose my escort, the Palotin Giron
who was so enamoured of my attractions
that he went into raptures whenever he saw me
and even, I was assured, whenever he didn't see me
which is the greatest proof of love.
He'd have had himself cut in two for me, poor boy.
The proof is that he was cut in four by Bougrelas.
***, ***, ***!
Oh, I thought I should die.
After that, then, I take to my heels
pursued by the enraged crowd.
I leave the Palace
I arrive at the Vistula
all the bridges were guarded.
I swim across the river
hoping thus to tire my persecutors.
From all sides the nobility
rallies and pursues me.
I nearly perish a thousand times
smothered in a circle of Poles
bent on destroying me.
At last
I cheated their fury
and after a four days' journey
in the snow of what was my kingdom
I arrive here to rake refuge.
I've neither drunk nor eaten these four days.
Bougrelas was close on my heels...
Still, here I am, saved.
Ah! I'm dead with fatigue and cold.
But I'd really like to know
what happened to my big buffoon -
I mean to say
my very respectable spouse.
Have I taken his cash!
Have I pinched his rix-dollars!
Have I diddled him!
And his financial horse
that was dying of hunger;
he didn't see many oats
the poor devil.
Oh, what a joke!
But alas!
I've lost my treasure!
It's in Warsaw
anyone who likes can go and fetch it.
Catch Mère Ubu
cut off her earens!
Oh God!
Where am I?
I'm going off my head.
Oh no, Lord!
By the grace of God
I can just see
Monsieur Père Ubu
who sleeps quite near to me.
Let's pretend to me nice.
Well, my old fellow
did you sleep well?
Darned badly!
It was very tough, that bear!
Conflict between voracious creatures
and coriaceous creatures
but the voracious completely ate up
and devoured the coriaceous
as you will see when it gets light.
Do you hear, noble Palotins?
What's he burbling about?
He's even more of a fool than when he went away.
Who's he grumbling at?
Cotice
Pile
answer me, sack of shittr!
Where are you?
Oh, I'm frightened!
But after all, someone spoke.
Who spoke?
Not the bear, I suppose.
Shittr!
Where are my matches?
Oh! I lost them in the battle.
Let's take advantage of the situation and
of the night;
let's pretend to be a supernatural apparition
and make him promise
to pardon our bit of pilfering.
But by St Anthony, someone's speaking.
Godslegs!
May I be hanged!
Yes, Monsieur Ubu
Someone is indeed speaking
and the archangel's trumpet
that will call the dead
from their final dust
and ashes will not speak otherwise!
Listen to this stern voice.
It's the voice of St Gabriel
who cannot give you other than good advice.
Oh I say!
Don't interrupt me
or I shall cease speaking
and it'll be all up with your gutskins!
Oh my gibolets!
I'll be quiet, I won't breathe a word.
Continue, Madame Apparition.
We were saying, Monsieur Ubu
that you were a fat fellow.
Very fat indeed, that's fair enough.
Hold your tongue, by God!
Oh! Angels don't swear.
Shittr!
Are you married
Monsieur Ubu?
Certainly, to the vilest
of old hags
You mean that
she is a charming woman.
A horror.
She has claws all over her
you don't know how to get at her.
You must approach her gently
Sire Ubu
and if you approach her thus
you will see that she is
at least the equal of
Diana of the Ephesians.
Who did you say's got fleas on 'em?
You are not listening, Monsieur Ubu
lend us a more attentive ear.
But we must hurry, the dawn is breaking.
Monsieur Ubu
your wife is adorable and delicious
she has not a single defect.
You're mistaken
there's not a single defect she doesn't possess.
Be silent, will you?
Your wife
isn't unfaithful to you.
I'd like to see
who could be in love with her.
She's an old hell-car!
She doesn't drink!
Not since I took the key of the cellar.
Before, at eight in the morning she was
boozed and perfumed with brandy.
Now that she perfumes herself with heliotripe
she doesn't smell any worse.
It's all the same to me.
But now it's only I who get boozed!
Foolish creature!
You wife
doesn't take your gold.
No, that's odd!
She doesn't pinch a sou!
As witness our noble and unfortunate Phynancial horse
who, not having been nourished for three months
had to go through the entire campaign
led by the reins across the Ukraine.
And thus he died in harness
the poor creature!
All that is a pack of lies
your wife is a model
and you
what a monster you are!
All that is the truth.
My wife is a ***, and you
what a dope you are!
Be careful, Père Ubu!
Oh, that's true
I forgot who I was talking to.
No, I didn't say that.
You killed Venceslas.
Yes, but it wasn't my fault.
It was Mère Ubu who wanted me to.
You were responsible
for the deaths of Boleslas and Ladislas.
Too bad for them!
They were trying to touch me.
You didn't keep your promise
to Bordure
and then you killed him.
I'd rather it was I than he to reign in Lithuania.
At the moment it's neither the one nor the other.
So you see, it's not I.
There is only one way
for you to be pardoned you misdeeds.
What's that?
I'm quite prepared to become a holy man
I'd like to be a bishop
and see my name in the calendar of the saints.
You must
forgive Mère Ubu
having side-tracked a little money.
Well, this is what I'll do:
I'll forgive her when she's given it all back
when she's had a good beating
and when she's brought
my financial horse back to life.
He's crazy about that horse of his!
Oh, I'm lost
it's getting light.
But still
I'm glad to know for certain
that my dear spouse robbed me.
Now I have it on the highest authority.
Omnis
a Deo
scientia
which means:
omnis, all;
a Deo, knowledge;
scientia, comes from God.
That's the explanation of the phenomenon.
But Madame Apparition doesn't say any more.
What can I offer her to cheer her up?
What she has told me
was very amusing.
Ah, but the day has dawned.
Oh Lord
by my financial horse
it's Mère Ubu.
It's not true
I shall excommunicate you.
Pah! you ***!
What impiety!
Oh, that's a bit much!
I can see very well that it's you, you silly ***!
Why the devil are you here?
Giron is dead
and the Poles chased me out.
Well, it was the Russians who chased me out:
great minds think alike.
This great mind thinks it's met an ***.
Oh, but just a minute, bring youself here, sloven!
Get down on your knees
before your master.
You're going to undergo the worst torture.
Ho ho, Monsieur Ubu!
Oh! Oh! Oh!
What next, have you finished?
I'm only just beginning:
twisting of the nose
pulling out of the hair
shoving of the little bit of wood in the earens
extraction of the brain by the heels
laceration of the posterior
partial, or even total, suppression of the spinal marrow
(if at least that would remove the spines from her character)
not forgetting
the opening of the swimming bladder
and finally
the grand new version of the beheading
of St John the Baptist
the whole taken from the very holy scriptures
from the Old as well as the New Testament
arranged, corrected
and perfected
by the here-present Master of Finances
Does that suit you, chucklehead?
Mercy, Monsieur Ubu!
Forward, my friends! Long live Poland!
Hey hey! wait a bit, Monsieur the Polognard.
Wait till I've finished with Madame my better half.
Take that, coward
vagabond, braggart, miscreant, mussulman!
Take that, Polognard, drunkard, ***, hussar
tartar, dozener, cozener
liar, savoyard, communard!
Take that!
swindler, porker, traitor, play-actor
perjurer, dog-robber, boister!
Ye gods, what a bashing!
We have feet, Messieurs the Poles.
By my green candle!
I say, are they going to have done
when all's said and done.
What, another! Ah! if I had my financial horse here!
Hit 'em, go on hitting 'em!
Long live Père Ubu, our great Financier!
Ah! here they are! Hurrah!
Here come the Père Ubists.
Come on, forward march
we can do with you, Financial Gentlemen!
Outside, Poles!
Ah! we meet again, Monsieuye of Finances.
Come on, press on, we must get out
once outside we'll simply make ourselves scarce.
Oh, ouch! that's the worst yet.
Ow, he can't half hit!
God! I am wounded.
It's nothing, Sire.
No, I'm only stunned.
Hit them, go on hitting them, they're escaping.
We're getting there, follow your leader.
By conseyquence of the whiche I see the sky.
Courage, Sire Ubu!
Hell! I'm doing it in my breeches.
Get a move on, hornigibolets!
Killen 'em, bleed 'em, skin 'em, massacre 'em
Ubu's horns!
Ah, it's dying down.
There are only two left guarding the entrance.
And a one
and a two!
Oof! I'm outside!
Let's clear out!
Follow me, you lot, and look sharp!
The stage represents the province of Livonia covered with snow
Ah! I think they've given up trying to catch us.
Yes, Bougrelas has gone to get himself crowned.
I don't envy him his crown.
You're dead right, Père Ubu.
The bridge of a ship sailing close to the wind on the Baltic
Oh what a lovely breeze!
It's a fact that we're moving with a rapidity that savours
that savours of the marvellous.
We must be doing at least a million knots an hour
and these knots have this to recommend them
that once they're done they don't come undone.
It's true that we have a fair wind.
What a sorry imbecile!
Oh! Ah! God! we're capsizing.
But it's going all skew, your boat, it's going to fall over
Everyone to leeward, set the foresail.
Oh hell no! don't all go over to the same side!
That's very unwise.
And supposing the wind changes:
we'll all go down to the bottom of the ocean
and the fishes will eat us.
Fall off!
What do you mean, fall off!
I don't want to fall off, I want to get there
I'm in a hurry. Don't fall of, do you hear?
It's all your fault, brute of a captain
if we don't get there.
We ought to be there already.
Oh, oh! but I'm going to take command.
Ready about! 'bout ship!
Let go the anchor, go about in stays, wear ship
hoist the sails, hand down the sails
helm up, helm down
helm sideways.
You see, it's going a treat.
Bring the ship athwart the waves
and that'll be perfect.
Haul down the main jib
reef the topsails.
That's not bad, that's even good.
Do you hear, Monsieur the Crew?
Haul down the main bid and reach for your tonsils.
Oh - what a deluge.
That's the result of the manœuvres we ordered.
What a delicious thing navigation is!
Beware of Satan and his pumps and vanities!
Sire steward
bring us something to drink.
Ah, what a delight
it will be to see our sweet France again soon
our old friends
and our castle of Mondragon!
Mm, we'll soon be there.
We are just below the castle of Elsinore at the moment.
I feel quite cheered up at the idea of seeing
my dear Spain again.
Yes, and we'll dazzle our compatriots with tales
of our marvellous adventures.
Hm! I should think so!
And I'll get myself nominated Master of Finances in Paris.
That's right! Oh, isn't she pitching about!
It's nothing, we've just passed the Elsinore foreland.
And how our noble ship leaps forward
over the sombre waves of the North Sea.
Fierce and inhospitable sea
that laves the country called Germania.
thus named because all its inhabitants
are cousins-german.
That's what I call erudition.
They say it's a very beautiful country.
Ah, gentlemen!
however beautiful it may be
it can never equal Poland.
If there weren't any Poland
there wouldn't be any Poles.
And now, since you have listened very nicely
and behaved yourselves, we are going to sing you:
The Song of the Disembraining
Look, look at the machine revolving
Look, look at the brain flying
Look, look at the Rentiers trembling!
Hurrah, ***-horns, long live Père Ubu!
subtitled by Pueben using the Barbara Wright translation