Scene 1: All is quiet on the Manor farm save for drunken Jones making his rounds around the farm before he settles into bed. All the animals then file into the big barn, Old Major the boar on his straw bed, the other animals circled around him, waiting in anticipation on what he had called them in for.
OLD MAJOR:
Now, comrades, what is the nature of this life of ours? Let us face it: our lives are miserable, laborious, and short. We are born, we are given just so much food as will keep the breath in our bodies, and those of us who are capable of it are forced to work to the last atom of our strength; and the very instant that our usefulness has come to an end we are slaughtered with hideous cruelty. No animal in England knows the meaning of happiness or leisure after he is a year old. No animal in England is free. The life of an animal is misery and slavery: that is the plain truth.
But is this simply part of the order of nature? Is it because this land of ours is so poor that it cannot afford a decent life to those who dwell upon it? No, comrades, a thousand times no! The soil of England is fertile, its climate is good, it is capable of affording food in abundance to an enormously greater number of animals than now inhabit it. This single farm of ours would support a dozen horses, twenty cows, hundreds of sheep–and all of them living in a comfort and a dignity that are now almost beyond our imagining. Why then do we continue in this miserable condition? Because nearly the whole of the produce of our labor is stolen from us by human beings. There, comrades, is the answer to all our problems. It is summed up in a single word–Man. Man is the only real enemy we have. Remove Man from the scene, and the root cause of hunger and overwork is abolished for ever.
All the animals burst into a tremendous uproar, cheering loudly as even the rats from within the walls creeped out.
Jezzebel: Hey look, Bluebell! Let’s get those rats! They look delicious!
Bluebell: Yeah!
The dogs pounce upon the rats that scamper away when Old Major raised his trotter for silence.
Old Major: Comrades, here is a point that must be settled. The wild creatures, such as rats and rabbits–are they our friends or our enemies? Let us put it to the vote. I propose this question to the meeting: Are rats comrades?
Boxer: Yes! If we are to fight against Man, we will need every friend we can get!
Clover: I agree!
All the dogs: What? No! They are rat! Not friends!
Old Major: Let us put it to the vote. I propose this question to the meeting: Are rats comrades?
Only the dogs and cat disagreed with mutters of annoyance.
Old Major: Now comrades, we cannot involve ourselves with Man once we are free. No animal shall drink alcohol, smoke tobacco, wear clothes, sleep in a bed, touch money or engage in trade. For in this dream I had spoke about, Man had vanished and all animals were free and equal. It reminded me of my childhood and a song that my mother has used to sing. I had long forgotten it until now; my voice is hoarse and I am old but I shall teach it to you now. It is called Beast of England.
Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken to my joyful tidings
Of the golden future time.
Soon or late the day is coming,
Tyrant Man shall be o’erthrown,
And the fruitful fields of England
Shall be trod by beasts alone.
Rings shall vanish from our noses,
And the harness from our back,
Bit and spur shall rust forever,
Cruel whips no more shall crack.
Riches more than mind can picture,
Wheat and barley, oats and hay,
Clover, beans, and mangel-wurzels
Shall be ours upon that day.
Bright will shine the fields of England,
Purer shall its waters be,
Sweeter yet shall blow its breezes
On the day that sets us free.
For that day we all must labour,
Though we die before it break;
Cows and horses, geese and turkeys,
All must toil for freedom’s sake.
Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken well and spread my tidings
Of the golden future time.
Boxer: Beasts of England!
Clover: Beasts of England!
Mollie: Beast of England!
The animals singing eventually woke Jones up.
Jones leaning out his window with his shot gun: Quiet down out there!
He fired many shots into the air, scaring all the animals back into their stalls and barns, the farm asleep in a moment.