[Gods Must Be Crazy 3 Hindi Dubbed.epub
Stephanie Dejoode
The action of the entire play takes place in, and immediatelyoutside of, the Cabot farmhouse in New England, in the year 1850.The south end of the house faces front to a stone wall with awooden gate at center opening on a country road. The house is ingood condition but in need of paint. Its walls are a sicklygrayish, the green of the shutters faded. Two enormous elms are oneach side of the house. They bend their trailing branches down overthe roof. They appear to protect and at the same time subdue. Thereis a sinister maternity in their aspect, a crushing, jealousabsorption. They have developed from their intimate contact withthe life of man in the house an appalling humaneness. They broodoppressively over the house. They are like exhausted women restingtheir sagging breasts and hands and hair on its roof, and when itrains their tears trickle down monotonously and rot on theshingles.
There is a path running from the gate around the right corner ofthe house to the front door. A narrow porch is on this side. Theend wall facing us has two windows in its upper story, two largerones on the floor below. The two upper are those of the father'sbedroom and that of the brothers. On the left, ground floor, is thekitchen--on the right, the parlor, the shades of which are alwaysdrawn down.
Exterior of the Farmhouse. It is sunset of a day at thebeginning of summer in the year 1850. There is no wind andeverything is still. The sky above the roof is suffused with deepcolors, the green of the elms glows, but the house is in shadow,seeming pale and washed out by contrast.
A door opens and Eben Cabot comes to the end of the porch andstands looking down the road to the right. He has a large bell inhis hand and this he swings mechanically, awakening a deafeningclangor. Then he puts his hands on his hips and stares up at thesky. He sighs with a puzzled awe and blurts out with haltingappreciation.
EBEN--God! Purty! (His eyes fall and he stares about himfrowningly. He is twenty-five, tall and sinewy. His face iswell-formed, good-looking, but its expression is resentful anddefensive. His defiant, dark eyes remind one of a wild animal's incaptivity. Each day is a cage in which he finds himself trapped butinwardly unsubdued. There is a fierce repressed vitality about him.He has black hair, mustache, a thin curly trace of beard. He isdressed in rough farm clothes. He spits on the ground with intensedisgust, turns and goes back into the house. Simeon and Peter comein from their work in the fields. They are tall men, much olderthan their half-brother [Simeon is thirty-nine and Peterthirty-seven], built on a squarer, simpler model, fleshier in body,more bovine and homelier in face, shrewder and more practical.Their shoulders stoop a bit from years of farm work. They clumpheavily along in their clumsy thick-soled boots caked with earth.Their clothes, their faces, hands, bare arms and throats areearth-stained. They smell of earth. They stand together for amoment in front of the house and, as if with the one impulse, staredumbly up at the sky, leaning on their hoes. Their faces have acompressed, unresigned expression. As they look upward, thissoftens.)
PETER--Left us in the fields an evenin' like this. Hitched upan' druv off into the West. That's plumb onnateral. He hain't neverbeen off this farm 'ceptin' t' the village in thirty year or more,not since he married Eben's maw. (A pause. Shrewdly) Icalc'late we might git him declared crazy by the court.
PETER--(in same tone) Bacon's bacon! (They turn,shouldering each other, their bodies bumping and rubbing togetheras they hurry clumsily to their food, like two friendly oxen towardtheir evening meal. They disappear around the right corner of houseand can be heard entering the door.)
The color fades from the sky. Twilight begins. The interiorof the kitchen is now visible. A pine table is at center, acook-stove in the right rear corner, four rough wooden chairs, atallow candle on the table. In the middle of the rear wall isfastened a big advertizing poster with a ship in full sail and theword "California" in big letters. Kitchen utensils hang from nails.Everything is neat and in order but the atmosphere is of amen's camp kitchen rather than that of a home.
Places for three are laid. Eben takes boiled potatoes andbacon from the stove and puts them on the table, also a loaf ofbread and a crock of water. Simeon and Peter shoulder in, slumpdown in their chairs without a word. Eben joins them. The three eatin silence for a moment, the two elder as naturally unrestrained asbeasts of the field, Eben picking at his food without appetite,glancing at them with a tolerant dislike.
EBEN--Ay-eh. They's somethin'. (suddenly exploding) Whydidn't ye never stand between him 'n' my Maw when he was slavin'her to her grave--t' pay her back fur the kindness she done t' yew?(There is a long pause. They stare at him in surprise.)
EBEN--(harshly) They was chores t' do, wa'n't they? (apause--then slowly) It was on'y arter she died I come to thinko' it. Me cookin'--doin' her work--that made me know her, sufferher sufferin'--she'd come back t' help--come back t' bilepotatoes--come back t' fry bacon--come back t' bake biscuits--comeback all cramped up t' shake the fire, an' carry ashes, her eyesweepin' an' bloody with smoke an' cinders same's they used t' be.She still comes back--stands by the stove thar in the evenin'--shecan't find it nateral sleepin' an' restin' in peace. She can't gitused t' bein' free--even in her grave.
EBEN--She'd got too tired. She'd got too used t' bein' tootired. That was what he done. (with vengeful passion) An'sooner'r later, I'll meddle. I'll say the thin's I didn't say thent' him! I'll yell 'em at the top o' my lungs. I'll see t' it my Mawgits some rest an' sleep in her grave! (He sits down again,relapsing into a brooding silence. They look at him with a queerindifferent curiosity.)
SIMEON--Dunno. He druv off in the buggy, all spick an' span,with the mare all breshed an' shiny, druv off clackin' his tonguean' wavin' his whip. I remember it right well. I was finishin'plowin', it was spring an' May an' sunset, an' gold in the West,an' he druv off into it. I yells "Whar ye goin', Paw?" an' he haulsup by the stone wall a jiffy. His old snake's eyes was glitterin'in the sun like he'd been drinkin' a jugful an' he says with amule's grin: "Don't ye run away till I come back!"
SIMEON--Mebbe. I didn't say nothin' and he says, lookin' kinderqueer an' sick: "I been hearin' the hens cluckin' an' the roosterscrowin' all the durn day. I been listenin' t' the cows lowin' an'everythin' else kickin' up till I can't stand it no more. It'sspring an' I'm feelin' damned," he says. "Damned like an old barehickory tree fit on'y fur burnin'," he says. An' then I calc'late Imust've looked a mite hopeful, fur he adds real spry and vicious:"But don't git no fool idee I'm dead. I've sworn t' live a hundredan' I'll do it, if on'y t' spite yer sinful greed! An' now I'mridin' out t' learn God's message t' me in the spring, like theprophets done. An' yew git back t' yer plowin'," he says. An' hedruv off singin' a hymn. I thought he was drunk--'r I'd stopped himgoin'.
EBEN--I'm gittin' stronger. I kin feel it growin' in me--growin'an' growin'--till it'll bust out--! (He gets up and puts on hiscoat and a hat. They watch him, gradually breaking into grins. Ebenavoids their eyes sheepishly.) I'm goin' out fur a spell--upthe road.
PETER--Sart'n he will! (They both roar with coarse laughter.Eben rushes out and slams the door--then the outside frontdoor--comes around the corner of the house and stands still by thegate, staring up at the sky.)
EBEN--Waal--thar's a star, an' somewhar's they's him, an' here'sme, an' thar's Min up the road--in the same night. What if I doeskiss her? She's like t'night, she's soft 'n' wa'm, her eyes kinwink like a star, her mouth's wa'm, her arms're wa'm, she smellslike a wa'm plowed field, she's purty . . . Ay-eh! By God A'mightyshe's purty, an' I don't give a damn how many sins she's sinnedafore mine or who she's sinned 'em with, my sin's as purty as anyone on 'em! (He strides off down the road to the left.)
EBEN--(pushing open the door and coming in, a lightedcandle in his hand. The bedroom of the brothers is revealed. Itsceiling is the sloping roof. They can stand upright only close tothe center dividing wall of the upstairs. Simeon and Peter are in adouble bed, front. Eben's cot is to the rear. Eben has a mixture ofsilly grin and vicious scowl on his face.) I be!
EBEN--Think I'm a dunce, do ye? The hull village says. Thepreacher from New Dover, he brung the news--told it t' ourpreacher--New Dover, that's whar the old loon got himselfhitched--that's whar the woman lived--
EBEN--Ye'd like ridin' better--on a boat, wouldn't ye?(fumbles in his pocket and takes out a crumpled sheet offoolscap) Waal, if ye sign this ye kin ride on a boat. I've hadit writ out an' ready in case ye'd ever go. It says fur threehundred dollars t' each ye agree yewr shares o' the farm is sold t'me. (They look suspiciously at the paper. A pause.)
EBEN--(cunningly) I know whar it's hid. I beenwaitin'--Maw told me. She knew whar it lay fur years, but she waswaitin' . . . It's her'n--the money he hoarded from her farm an'hid from Maw. It's my money by rights now.
SIMEON--(imitating his father's voice) "I'm ridin' out t'learn God's message t' me in the spring like the prophets done," hesays. I'll bet right then an' thar he knew plumb well he was goin'whorin', the stinkin' old hypocrite!
Same as Scene Two--shows the interior of the kitchen with alighted candle on table. It is gray dawn outside. Simeon and Peterare just finishing their breakfast. Eben sits before his plate ofuntouched food, brooding frowningly.
SIMEON--Waal--let dog eat dog! (Eben comes out of front doorand around the corner of the house. The sky is beginning to growflushed with sunrise. Eben stops by the gate and stares around himwith glowing, possessive eyes. He takes in the whole farm with hisembracing glance of desire.)
795a8134c1