MAYENBURG: THREE PLAYS
MAYENBURG: THREE PLAYS
The Dog, the Night and the Knife
Eldorado
Perplex
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First published in 2015 by Oberon Books Ltd
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Eldorado by Marius von Mayenburg © henschel SCHAUSPIEL
Theaterverlag Berlin GmbH 2004
English translation Eldorado © Maja Zade 2015
Der Hund, die Nacht und das Messer by Marius von Mayenburg © henschel
SCHAUSPIEL Theaterverlag Berlin GmbH 2008
English translation The Dog, the Night and the Knife ©
Maja Zade 2015
Perplex by Marius von Mayenburg © henschel SCHAUSPIEL
Theaterverlag Berlin GmbH 2011
English translation Perplex © Maja Zade 2015
Marius von Mayenburg is hereby identified as author of these plays in accordance with section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The author has asserted his moral rights.
Maja Zade is hereby identified as translator of these plays in accordance with section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The translator has asserted her moral rights.
All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before commencement of rehearsal to Rosica Colin Ltd, 1 Clareville Grove Mews, London SW7 5AH. No performance may be given unless a licence has been obtained, and no alterations may be made in the title or the text of the play without the author’s prior written consent.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or binding or by any means (print, electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
PB ISBN: 9781783199433
EPUB ISBN: 9781783199440
Cover design by Tania Kelly
Robert Beyer in Perplex at the Schaubühne am Lehniner Platz
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Contents
The Dog, the Night and the Knife
Eldorado
Perplex
THE DOG, THE NIGHT AND THE KNIFE
The Dog, the Night and the Knife was first performed at the Schaubühne am Lehniner Platz on 25 May 2008, directed by Benedict Andrews.
It was first performed in the UK by Rive Productions at the Arcola Theatre on 15 September 2014, directed by Oliver Dawe.
Characters
M
THE DOGMAN / THE POLICEMAN /
THE PATIENT / THE DOCTOR / THE DOG
these five roles are played by the same actor
THE YOUNGER SISTER / THE OLDER SISTER /
THE CRIMINAL / THE LAWYER / THE NURSE
these five roles are played by the same actress
‘K. now knew that it was his duty to take the knife as it passed from hand to hand above him and plunge it into himself.’
Franz Kafka, The Trial
THE DEAD END
M: Last time I looked at my watch it was one thirty-eight, a hot August night. I’ve no idea how I got here, I had mussels for dinner, the street looks as if it’s been stripped with a hoover, the plastic blinds are lowered around me, the houses are standing there with grey, closed faces reflecting the day’s heat as if they had a temperature. Under a streetlamp I look at my watch, but I can’t see the dial.
I don’t know where I am, the street is locked in a dead end, by the wall sits a box with gravel to sprinkle against the slick ice, but now it’s hot. Suddenly, a man speaks behind me.
DOGMAN: Good evening.
(Nothing. The DOGMAN has a torn-off leash in his hand.)
Have you seen my dog?
M: I’m not from around here, I’m lost.
(The DOGMAN whistles.)
DOGMAN: Hear that?
(A dog howls in the distance.)
That’s him. He tore himself free. This summer the wolves came deeper into the city. That’s not good. It baits him.
(He whistles. The dog howls.)
He hasn’t been fed for a long time, you can see the ribs under his fur. Other dogs would have gotten weak and ill, but he’s getting stronger every day, his eyes flickered and his thighs quivered with anger.
(He whistles.)
M: Will you stop whistling. It’s so loud.
DOGMAN: He won’t hear it otherwise. Are you going to help me?
(He whistles. M covers his ears. The dog howl gets more quiet.)
He’s leaving.
M: Can you tell me where we are?
DOGMAN: With pleasure, I’ve always been here.
(He whistles. M covers his ears. We can barely hear the dog.)
He’s gone. You didn’t help me. He’s probably with the wolves. Once he didn’t come home for several weeks and then his paw was broken and his ear torn.
(He whistles.)
M: What? Your whistling is awful.
DOGMAN: But maybe it wasn’t him and I’ve had the wrong dog since then.
M: I want to go home.
DOGMAN: That’s terrible. You’re lost.
M: Where are we? I can’t see any street signs.
DOGMAN: Are you on your own?
M: I had friends, we had mussels.
DOGMAN: In August?
M: But now I can’t remember their faces.
DOGMAN: So no one’s waiting for you?
M: Who?
DOGMAN: Not a soul.
M: Is there never a car that drives past here?
DOGMAN: And no one calls the Police.
M: Why the Police? I just want to go home.
DOGMAN: I’ll help you. Step away from the streetlamp.
M: But here I can see your face better.
DOGMAN: You don’t need to. I know the way.
M: You don’t even know who I am.
DOGMAN: I don’t need to. I’ve got this.
(He pulls out a long, shiny knife.)
Keep still, I’ll take you home.
M: Things aren’t that bad, are they?
(Tries to laugh.)
DOGMAN: My sisters are hungry.
M: Your sisters?
DOGMAN: Haven’t you got any?
M: What?
DOGMAN: Any sisters?
M: Stay there.
DOGMAN: You don’t need to scream. There’s no one here. Everything’s empty behind the blinds. There aren’t even any flats. Hold still, otherwise it’ll hurt.
(He strikes out at M and makes a shallow cut in his stomach.)
M: Ouch.
DOGMAN: You got scared, that’s all.
M: I can barely feel the cut, but suddenly all the vessels in my body are inflamed and convulsing. I want to open my eyes but they’re already open.
DOGMAN: That was clean, but not deep enough.
(He takes aim once more. M grabs his arm and takes the knife from his hand. It happens quickly and easily, without a struggle.)
M: What do you want from me?
DOGMAN: I’m hungry. I can smell your blood. I can smell your fear. You turn me on.
(He tries to hit M.)
M: Don’t come any closer. I’ve got the knife now.
DOGMAN: That was stupid of you. A clean cut and it would have been over. Now I have to rip you apart like a wild animal. I’ll push my claws into your neck.
(He tries to hit M.)
M: (Quietly, feebly) Help. Is anyone here.
DOGMAN: It’s just me. My dog is with the wolves in the suburbs.
(The DOGMAN throws himself at M and onto the knife in M’s hand. The DOGMAN hangs on M’S arm, dying.)
DOGMAN: Come morning he’ll return to his bowl, which will be empty. Even before the sun rises over the estate and warms the streets again, he will have found you. He’ll smell my blood flowing from your hands.
M: I didn’t want this. I’ll fetch a doctor.
DOGMAN: The hospital is full of sand. It blows through the broken windows, from the steppe. It crunches between the doctors’ teeth, and their eyes are red. Most of them have already left for the big metropolises, the rest has dried up. Maybe one of them is taking a last stand against the desert, has locked himself in the basement and is nibbling pills.
M: You don’t have to die.
DOGMAN: Yes, I do. I am. I already did. You did it.
(He stops moving.)
M: You’re wrong about me, I’ve never killed anyone before, I’m not like that. I’ll leave the knife in your stomach, it’s stuck anyway. I look at my hands, but all I see is the liquid moving over them like muscular snakes. I lift my head and now a half-hidden street sign peeps out from the dry branches, and the street sign says Papegaai Straat. I’m sweating.
(We can hear wolves howling close by.)
The man is lying on the ground. I have to get away.
THE SISTERS’ FLAT
M: Did I wake you up?
YOUNGER SISTER: I was already awake, it’s a restless night.
M: There are flowers on your dressing gown.
YOUNGER SISTER: The wolves came deeper into the city this summer.
M: I need to make a phone call.
YOUNGER SISTER: There was a fight in the street, it woke me. I think they stabbed someone.
M: That was me. It really happened.
YOUNGER SISTER: Then you did wake me up.
M: I didn’t mean it.
YOUNGER SISTER: Of course. You’re not like that.
M: May I use your phone to –
YOUNGER SISTER: You can hide here if you want.
M: I don’t want to hide.
YOUNGER SISTER: But you have to. Otherwise they’ll find you.
M: All I did was hold a knife in my hand.
YOUNGER SISTER: I believe you, but who else will? No one knows who you are. Everyone knows the Dogman.
M: Then everyone knows he and his dog go hunting under the streetlamps at night.
YOUNGER SISTER: Stay here, let the dust settle on it.
M: Dust.
YOUNGER SISTER: At least stay till dawn.
M: Are you very lonely?
YOUNGER SISTER: No, I’ve always been quite popular with men.
M: I like you too, but I don’t want to disappear from the face of the earth, I’ll call the Police.
YOUNGER SISTER: Fine, here’s the phone.
M: I can’t see the numbers. I try to remember the digits, but all I can think is: one, two, lost my shoe, three four, shut the door.
YOUNGER SISTER: It goes: one, two, buckle my shoe, five, six, this one sticks, eleven, twelve, dig and delve, seven eight, find a mate.
M: Not so fast. One, two, buckle my shoe, three, four –
YOUNGER SISTER: They’ve torn the wires from the posts anyway. Sometimes someone mends them with a pair of pliers, but most of the time they’re dead. If you want the Police you’ll have to go to the station.
M: How do I get there?
YOUNGER SISTER: You don’t. You’ll get lost.
M: But all I did was have a few mussels and now I’m standing in your blue flat and nothing’s ever going to be OK again.
YOUNGER SISTER: If you want I can go instead.
M: You’ve only got the dressing gown.
YOUNGER SISTER: There’s no one in the streets, I’ll stay in the shadows, along the walls of the houses, when I have to cross the street I’ll take off my shoes and walk on my feet, when a lit supermarket appears I’ll cross to the other side, nothing’s going to happen, why are you worrying about me?
M: Because you want to go instead of me and I don’t know why.
YOUNGER SISTER: When I opened the door your outline fit the frame perfectly. The bare light bulb hung in the yellow corridor behind you, there were no snags on your figure. You would have fit into me perfectly, I knew it as soon as I saw you.
(She touches him briefly.)
But you have to watch out for my sister.
M: Your sister?
YOUNGER SISTER: She’s asleep. In there.
M: So I didn’t wake her up?
YOUNGER SISTER: Watch out if she does, she’s not normal, she chases after every man she meets.
M: I’m not interested, I’ve got blood on my fingers.
YOUNGER SISTER: There’s a sink.
M: I look at the water taps, but instead of hot and cold they say new and old.
YOUNGER SISTER: Don’t talk to her.
M: There’s sand coming out of the taps.
YOUNGER SISTER: That’s the only way to get rid of the blood. If she tries to talk to you, say nothing.
M: Nothing.
YOUNGER SISTER: Don’t go into her room, don’t try to wake her even if she looks dead. Do nothing and nothing’s going to happen.
M: Why don’t you stay?
YOUNGER SISTER: Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.
(She gives him a quick kiss and leaves.)
M: Of what? I look around. On the box sits a digital clock with green digits that says ‘five past five’. The night feels as if this is its blackest phase, when it gets thick and syrupy, so that time drips slowly and the clock-hands get stuck, maybe a digital clock helps because it’s made from light. Five past five, that’s not possible, in that case I’ve almost made it, the sun would already have turned back and be about to reappear, do nothing and nothing will happen, half an hour later I have another look, the digital clock still says five past five, nothing’s happening because I’m doing nothing, I’m standing in a strange blue flat and time and space are collapsing around me, do something and something will happen.
(He opens the bedroom door and looks inside.)
Hello?
(Nothing.)
Are you asleep or alive?
(He takes a step back.)
(The OLDER SISTER enters from the bedroom. She’s wearing a dressing gown that looks similar to her younger sister’s. She looks at M.)
OLDER SISTER: My sister’s never done that before.
M: It’s my fault –
OLDER SISTER: Brought strangers up here.
M: Because I stabbed someone.
OLDER SISTER: I know, she doesn’t normally have an appetite.
M: How would you know? You were asleep.
OLDER SISTER: Very restless, in the lonely heat your body is like an animal pulling on its chain. The whistling woke me, I looked through the cracks in the blinds, I can understand my sister, you move well.
M: So you saw everything.
OLDER SISTER: I never really wake up, I sank back against my damp pillow before it was over.
M: You looked dead.
OLDER SISTER: It’s the hunger. Do you work out?
M: I used to. I did rowing –
OLDER SISTER: But then the waters got more and more shallow and the crocodiles surfaced from the mud. Your front legs are still in good shape.
(She touches his arm.)
Normally my sister is shy, but for your strong hands and athletic forehead she rose above herself.
M: I didn’t see her rise.
OLDER SISTER: Did you press her against the sweating wall? Our bed’s in there, but she didn’t want to share.
M: I don’t know where you got that idea.
OLDER SISTER: Are you shy, is that why I didn’t hear you moan?
M: I’m only shy with horrible people.
OLDER SISTER: Am I horrible?
M: Your sister said –
OLDER SISTER: I look exactly like her.
M: That’s right. As soon as I saw you I thought –
OLDER SISTER: Exactly, we’re from the same egg, in mother’s womb I pushed my feet in her face, she was so weak they almost forgot all about her, I grabbed her hair and took her with me.
M: She warned me about you.
OLDER SISTER: Because she knows what I get up to. Because she knows I expose my back, that’s bold, turning my back on a stranger, a stranger who’s still got blood dripping from his fingers, turning my back on him, letting my dressing gown slide from my shoulders to where the downy hair grows in the shadow, exposing my back, which is flawless and the same colour all over, transparent and shimmering and cast from one piece, so firm and soft that you want to stick out your tongue and lick along its smooth surface from the downy hair to my neck and breathe in the exhilarating smell of heat, intoxicated because none of the hairs resist and because my whole body moves under your tongue and strains towards you, my sister knows you’ll be mine then, that from then on you’ll only think within the bounds of my body and that soon your whole being will circulate in my bloodstream, molecule by molecule, body and soul.
(She returns to the bedroom. While she’s walking she slowly lets the dressing gown slide from her shoulders.)
M: Her back glows although there’s no moon. I look at the clock again, it shines green in the room and still says five past five.
(He follows her.)
(M enters from the bedroom, in tatters. He covers his mouth.)
M: You bit my tongue.
(The OLDER SISTER follows him from the bedroom.)
OLDER SISTER: And touched the cut in your stomach with my fingers, I know. I wanted to see if you’d moan.
M: I wonder where your sister is. My tongue’s bleeding.
OLDER SISTER: Am I supposed to be sorry?
M: I’ve never experienced this kind of greed.
OLDER SISTER: It has nothing to do with you, it’s the hunger.
M: Have you had enough?
OLDER SISTER: I haven’t finished.
(She holds a long, shiny knife in her hand, it’s the same one that the DOGMAN used.)
M: Put that away, I’ve got a bad feeling about long knives.
OLDER SISTER: Not very gallant, all this whining about a bit of blood, as if it hadn’t been worth it.
M: No, it was, definitely, every drop.
OLDER SISTER: I don’t kiss everyone, you know.
M: And it was very nice.
OLDER SISTER: Very nice, yes, but now I’m afraid I have to kill you.
M: I turn round and tear the door open but outside, where the yellow staircase used to be is a wardrobe that shimmers white like bones.
OLDER SISTER: This isn’t revenge, okay.
M: For what? I didn’t hurt you.
OLDER SISTER: We kept telling him, sooner or later, when you’re down there walking the dog, someone’s going to take your knife and pin you to the grass like a butterfly. But what brother listens to his sisters?
M: That was your brother, the Dogman?
OLDER SISTER: I don’t care about my brother, I want to eat your flesh. If you keep still it won’t be unpleasant. I know cuts –
(She has approached him and strikes out at him. M catches her hand, with a lurch the knife enters her stomach, easily, without a struggle.)
OLDER SISTER: Aha.
M: I didn’t mean it.
OLDER SISTER: Hold me?
M: I’d rather stand here.
OLDER SISTER: That’s it, I’ll stop now, everything’s gone to the devil.
(M holds her.)
What you’re holding in your arms, this flawless, smooth, beautiful body I’ve been feeding for years, gone to the devil because of a hole in my stomach, a few silly centimetres.
M: I’m sorry.
OLDER SISTER: Easy for you to say, you’ve no idea how desperate you’ll be for a kiss from me, no matter how bloody, when you hobble over the steppe under a cold moon poisoned, hunted and chivvied, hungry and sleepless, and howl after the wolves because you can’t chase the memory of me from your body and you think someone has cast an evil shadow over your life, but in the blazing light, when the sun scorches you, you’ll realise that you’re the shadow, because it’s dark in your body unless you take a knife and cut a window into it and let the light in between your organs, and you’ll long for my expert cut to take away the gloomy shadow and free you, but of course it’ll be too late then.
(She stops moving.)
M: Don’t look at me with your dead eyes, that’s not me, I feel as if I’m the thought of someone dreams hard and sweats, or the failed joke of a drunk man. Where to?
(He drags her into the bedroom.)
That’s where she was lying before sleeping like a dead woman, now she’s a dead woman lying there as if she’s asleep.
(He returns.)
My forehead is damp and cold, I look back at the digital clock whose green digits are surprisingly bright, the clock still says five past five, but this time I take a closer look and realise the digits don’t tell the time, the clock says S.O.S., says it loud and clear, the digits say S.O.S., five, zero, five, save our souls. I need to get out of here.
(The YOUNGER SISTER enters from the bedroom, she’s accompanied by a Policeman.)
YOUNGER SISTER: (To M.) I told you not to speak to her.
POLICEMAN: I’m confused.
YOUNGER SISTER: And to do nothing, and now you’ve gone and done something.
M: She looked dead, like someone who needed to be saved.
POLICEMAN: (To the YOUNGER SISTER.) You said it was about the man with the torn-off leash lying down there, among the bushes.
YOUNGER SISTER: Exactly, with a hole in his stomach.
POLICEMAN: But now you take me to your bedroom and there’s a woman lying there.
M: (To the POLICEMAN.) Do I know you? Your face looks familiar.
POLICEMAN: Did you stab the dogman?
M: I can’t remember. Now it feels as if I’d just seen him step through this door.
POLICEMAN: Did you have a bad childhood? Something that would explain your aggression?
YOUNGER SISTER: He’s not aggressive.
M: I can’t remember my childhood.
POLICEMAN: (To the YOUNGER SISTER.) Can’t remember: a trauma.
M: Isn’t that true of everyone? Childhood was such a long time ago.
POLICEMAN: (To M.) Good for you, it explains your aggression.
YOUNGER SISTER: He’s not aggressive, the other one attacked him.
POLICEMAN: The other one?
M: Her sister was watching through the blinds.
YOUNGER SISTER: You shouldn’t have woken her up.
POLICEMAN: It’s all the same now, she can’t testify to anything.
(He picks up the knife and examines it.)
M: I’m sorry that was your brother –
YOUNGER SISTER: Me too. You weren’t supposed to know. My embarrassing siblings.
POLICEMAN: Who does this pretty knife belong to?
M: The brother.
YOUNGER SISTER: The sister.
M: Why do you ask? Weren’t you there?
POLICEMAN: And he wanted to butcher you?
M: He even slashed me.
(He shows his wound.)
POLICEMAN: Not deep enough. Be careful it doesn’t get infected. Does it hurt?
M: Yes, now that you’re looking at it, it started. It’s bleeding again.
(The POLICEMAN matches the cut to the knife.)
POLICEMAN: The cut was made with the same weapon. It’s a clear case of self-defence.
YOUNGER SISTER: Like I said, he’s innocent.
POLICEMAN: You’re innocent.
M: And the woman?
POLICEMAN: Is his sister, you’re free to go wherever you want.
M: I can go?
POLICEMAN: Wherever you want.
M: But I don’t want to. I’m scared.
YOUNGER SISTER: Stay here.
POLICEMAN: Go home.
M: I don’t know where that is, or where I am.
YOUNGER SISTER: Papegaai Straat.
POLICEMAN: You can come to the station with me and sleep for a few hours until dawn.
YOUNGER SISTER: Don’t do it.
POLICEMAN: I’ll give you a blanket.
YOUNGER SISTER: You’d better stay here.
POLICEMAN: (To M.) Only if you want.
M: I can’t stay here.
YOUNGER SISTER: Don’t go with the Policeman. Please. Stay with me.
M: Forget about me. I ruined my life tonight, it’ll never heal. You have a lovely face, but do you really want to look at me? Find yourself a nice young man or buy yourself a dog.
YOUNGER SISTER: You don’t have to get harsh with me.
M: That wasn’t harsh.
POLICEMAN: I’m ready.
M: I look at the green digits. I have to get out of here.
(He leaves the flat with the POLICEMAN.)
POLICEMAN: So where did his dog go?
M: His dog is with the wolves.
(They’ve gone.)
YOUNGER SISTER: Don’t go to the station, they’ve got washable walls and basements full of corpses. Stay with me.
THE PRISON
POLICEMAN: You can rest in here.
M: But that looks like –
POLICEMAN: I’ll leave the door open. Just so you have somewhere to sleep.
M: It’s a cell.
POLICEMAN: Yes, sorry, that’s all I’ve got, I’m afraid this isn’t a hotel.
M: Did someone wait for his execution in here?
POLICEMAN: They used to do them in the courtyard, in front of this window. Why?
M: It smells like it.
POLICEMAN: I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the bed springs, we had to burn the mattress.
(Because M is staring at a bucket.)
You won’t need the bucket. You can use the toilet behind the guardroom. The door stays open.
M: Thanks.
POLICEMAN: That’s what we’re here for.
(He leaves and locks the door.)
M: Stop! What are you doing?
(The POLICEMAN unlocks it.)
POLICEMAN: Yes, what is it?
M: You just locked the door.
POLICEMAN: Did I? Old habits. I’m sorry. Of course the door stays open, you’re not a prisoner.
(He leaves.)
M: