Billy Budd Page #5

Why not, pray?

No man can take pleasure in cruelty.

No?

Tell me, do you fear the lash?

Aye.

And will you speak the truth again?

I'm on my honor, sir,

if the captain asks.

Why are you laughing, boy?

Laughter's good, sir.

And it's good to hear you laugh.

Laughter's good?

Even the laughter of fools,

aimed at nothing?

No, sir. You didn't laugh at nothing.

What did I laugh at, then?

I don't know, sir...

...but I think you were laughing

at yourself.

Why should I laugh at myself?

There's times when all men do,

men as you can call men.

They make mistakes...

...behave like fools.

- They do?

Tell me in all ignorance,

do you dare understand me, then?

I think so, sir.

Why did Jenkins die?

- You did not wish his death.

- No, I did not.

You didn't even hate him.

I think that sometimes

you hate yourself.

I was thinking, sir...

...the nights are lonely.

Perhaps I could talk to you

between watches...

...when you've nothing else to do.

Loneliness.

What do you know of loneliness?

Them's alone as want to be.

Nights are long...

...conversation helps pass the time.

Can I talk to you again, then?

It would mean a lot to me.

Perhaps to me too.

Oh, no.

You would charm me too, huh?

Get away.

Sir?

Get away.

Master-at-arms.

Mr. Claggart, sir?

What's the "Get thee behind me" for?

Which of us is Satan, then?

Why, I'm not ambitious.

Well?

I can't find nothing wrong

with Budd's gear.

All stowed perfect.

Well, disarrange it, man.

You've done it before.

I was nearly caught.

Two of his mates woke up.

Be more careful.

I want him on report,

now more than ever.

- Do as you wish.

- Well, it's not easy.

How's your gear, Squeak?

All stowed perfect?

Moon's in and out tonight.

There's a storm somewhere.

Aye, old man.

There's a storm somewhere.

Well...

...I have my watch to do.

Billy.

Billy.

Slip into the lee forechains.

There's something in the wind.

- What you...?

- No, no, no. Don't speak here.

I'll meet you there.

We'll have to talk quickish, Billy.

The dawn'll be on us

before you can say "mutiny."

What is it you want? It's cold it is

and against the rules to be up here.

I saw you and Claggart talking.

I don't know what was said, not liking

to listen to other folks' conversations...

...but if it's buttering him up you are,

beware.

I tried that.

I was frightened of him.

Well, that's how I began, see?

I talked to him one night,

and after that, I was his slave.

I amused him, see?

Something about me amuses him.

There's nothing I can do about it.

Anyway, I started spying on people

for him and the like.

Only to escape the lash.

Well, a man can't help

being frightened, can he?

I mean, it's human in some of us.

Every time he laughs at me,

I know I'm safe.

Until the next time, that is.

It's only old Dansker

passing away his watch.

Hey. You know when you kept

finding yourself on report?

Well, that was my doing.

Yeah, but I was only obeying orders.

His orders, Claggart's.

Claggart's?

- I thought it was you, out of spite.

- Me?

But I got no spite in me.

Now, take tonight. I'm supposed to

get you on report again, see?

I was sent by Claggart

to steal your kit while you was asleep.

Instead, I woke you up.

My conscience

wouldn't permit me to obey...

...whatever the consequences.

I said to myself:

"You can't do this to Billy. Not this."

I ought to thank you, then,

didn't I?

No. No, no, I'm a human being,

that's all. Same as the next man.

I want no thanks.

I can't help being a coward though.

That's my trouble.

I hate Claggart.

That's what he don't realize.

I hate him.

- You hate him?

- Yes, I do.

Don't you?

No.

- You don't?

- No.

You must do.

Why has the old man stopped singing?

Get away, old man.

Aye, I'll leave you in the dark, Kincaid...

...but think again.

Well, even though

you don't hate him, Billy...

...there's many as does,

and they need your help.

They came to me and they said,

"Do you think Billy'll help us?"

I said, "Well, I've never known him

not to help them in need."

What do you want me to do?

Tomorrow night...

...talk to Claggart as you did tonight,

with his back to the deck.

Now, that's important.

- The lads will do the rest.

- The rest?

That's a lovely knife you got there.

What...?

Damn. I don't know what you mean.

Forget I even talked to you.

- You better go back where you belong.

- Yeah, I'm going.

If you don't start,

I'll toss you back over the rail.

I never said nothing.

- Well?

- Well, what?

I heard you muttering with him

down by the forechains.

I tried something new,

something you once suggested.

I told him some of the lads was out

to kill you and tried to get him to join in.

- And?

- He wouldn't do it.

Fool. Blithering idiot.

You didn't tempt him right.

You made mistakes.

- No.

- You were too obvious.

- Weren't you?

- No, I did as you suggested.

I tried to be subtle.

I told him

how much I hated you.

He didn't let forth one hint

that he agreed with you?

No, sir. No, master-at-arms.

Not one word.

Mr. Claggart, we done enough to him.

He's a good lad, sir.

Couldn't it be someone else?

Kincaid, maybe?

So he's softened your heart too, huh?

I'll see your back laid raw

with the flogging whip.

- No. No.

- Quiet.

Yeah.

He hates you, does Billy Budd.

He wants your life

like the rest of them.

You swear it?

I swear it...

...on my oath.

I knew it.

Why don't you go to Mr. Seymour...

...or to the captain?

Then I'd be an informer.

No, no, Dansker, I can't.

It's Kincaid.

Leave him be.

- No.

- Leave him be, Billy Budd.

Kincaid.

What are you doing topside?

You're after Mr. Claggart.

- Well?

- It's wrong, Kincaid. He knows.

- He's waiting for you.

- No more than I'm waiting for him.

Get out of my way, lad,

and let me do it.

No, I won't let you hang yourself.

I don't give a fiddler's damn

what happens to me.

Out of my way, lad.

Give me that knife.

Billy, you're a nice boy,

but I'm not playing.

This is no game for boys.

Damn me, I won't let you hang yourself.

The moon's under now.

Sweet mother of God,

will you let me go?

No.

Oh, my back.

Explain this.

It was nothing, sir.

- An argument.

- An argument?

- Whose knife is this?

- Mine, sir.

Truth, boy.

Truth.

Isn't that the course

by which you steer?

Or am I wrong?

That's not the way it happened.

That's what you told captain

when Jenkins slipped from carelessness.

There are many ways to lie,

Mr. Claggart.

But there is only one way

to tell the truth.

Jenkins was unfit.

Unfit?

Well, here's another one that's unfit.

Up man. On your feet.

I've been expecting you, Kincaid.

Why did you try to stop him?

Why should I want you...?

Killed?

"Why should I want you killed?"

What's the disturbance there?

You there, forward.

- Master-at-arms reports all in order, sir.

- Stand where you are.

Say nothing to this officer.

Come on, up. On your feet.

What's the matter, master-at-arms?

It's an odd hour for stargazing.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote