Act 2 — ACT II

47

ACT TWO SCENE ONE

Scene—Two years later. A flat of the better sort in the Negro district near the corner of Act One. This is the parlor. Its furniture is a queer clash. The old pieces are cheaply ornate, naïvely, childishly gaudy—the new pieces give evidence of a taste that is diametrically opposed, severe to the point of somberness. On one wall, in a heavy gold frame, is a colored photograph—the portrait of an elderly Negro with an able, shrewd face but dressed in outlandish lodge regalia, a get-up adorned with medals, sashes, a cocked hat with frills—the whole effect as absurd to contemplate as one of Napoleon’s Marshals in full uniform. In the left corner, where a window lights it effectively, is a Negro primitive mask from the Congo—a grotesque face, inspiring obscure, dim connotations in one’s mind, but beautifully done, conceived in a true religious spirit. In this room, however, the mask acquires an arbitrary accentuation. It dominates by a diabolical quality that contrast imposes upon it.

48There are two windows on the left looking out in the street. In the rear, a door to the hall of the building. In the right, a doorway with red and gold portières leading into the bedroom and the rest of the flat. Everything is cleaned and polished. The dark brown wall paper is new, the brilliantly figured carpet also. There is a round mahogany table at center. In a rocking chair by the table Mrs. Harris is sitting. She is a mild-looking, gray-haired Negress of sixty-five, dressed in an old-fashioned Sunday-best dress. Walking about the room nervously is Hattie, her daughter, Jim’s sister, a woman of about thirty with a high-strung, defiant face—an intelligent head showing both power and courage. She is dressed severely, mannishly.

It is a fine morning in Spring. Sunshine comes through the windows at the left.

Mrs. Harris—Time dey was here, ain’t it?

Hattie—[Impatiently.] Yes.

Mrs. H.—[Worriedly.] You ain’t gwine ter kick up a fuss, is you—like you done wid Jim befo’ de weddin’?

Hattie—No. What’s done is done.

Mrs. H.—We mustn’t let her see we hold it agin’ her—de bad dat happened to her wid dat no-count fighter.

49Hattie—I certainly never give that a thought. It’s what she’s done to Jim—making him run away and give up his fight——!

Mrs. H.—Jim loves her a powerful lot, must be.

Hattie—[After a pause—bitterly.] I wonder if she loves Jim!

Mrs. H.—She must, too. Yes, she must, too. Don’t you forget dat it was hard for her—mighty, mighty hard—harder for de white dan for de black!

Hattie—[Indignantly.] Why should it be?

Mrs. H.—[Shaking her head.] I ain’t talkin’ of shoulds. It’s too late for shoulds. Dey’s o’ny one should. [Solemnly.] De white and de black shouldn’t mix dat close. Dere’s one road where de white goes on alone; dere’s anudder road where de black goes on alone——

Hattie—Yes, if they’d only leave us alone!

Mrs. H.—Dey leaves your Pa alone. He comes to de top till he’s got his own business, lots o’ money in de bank, he owns a building even befo’ he die. [She looks up proudly at the picture. Hattie sighs impatiently—then her mother goes on.] Dey leaves me alone. I bears four children into dis worl’, two dies, two lives, I helps you two grow up fine an’ healthy and eddicated wid schoolin’ and money fo’ yo’ comfort——

Hattie—[Impatiently.] Ma!

Mrs. H.—I does de duty God set for me in dis worl’. Dey leaves me alone. [Hattie goes to the 50window to hide her exasperation. The mother broods for a minute—then goes on.] The worl’ done change. Dey ain’t no satisfaction wid nuffin’ no more.

Hattie—Oh! [Then after a pause.] They’ll be here any minute now.

Mrs. H.—Why didn’t you go meet ’em at de dock like I axed you?

Hattie—I couldn’t. My face and Jim’s among those hundreds of white faces—— [With a harsh laugh.] It would give her too much advantage!

Mrs. H.—[Impatiently.] Don’t talk dat way! What makes you so proud? [Then after a pause—sadly.] Hattie.

Hattie—[Turning.] Yes, Ma.

Mrs. H.—I want to see Jim again—my only boy—but—all de same I’d ruther he stayed away. He say in his letter he’s happy, she’s happy, dey likes it dere, de folks don’t think nuffin’ but what’s natural at seeing ’em married. Why don’t dey stay?

Hattie—[Vehemently.] No! They were cowards to run away. If they believe in what they’ve done, then let them face it out, live it out here, be strong enough to conquer all prejudice!

Mrs. H.—Strong? Dey ain’t many strong. Dey ain’t many happy neider. Dey was happy ovah yondah.

Hattie—We don’t deserve happiness till we’ve fought the fight of our race and won it! [In the 51pause that follows there is a ring from back in the flat.] It’s the door bell! You go, Ma. I—I—I’d rather not. [Her mother looks at her rebukingly and goes out agitatedly through the portières. Hattie waits, nervously walking about, trying to compose herself. There is a long pause. Finally the portières are parted and Jim enters. He looks much older, graver, worried.]

Jim—Hattie!

Hattie—Jim! [They embrace with great affection.]

Jim—It’s great to see you again! You’re looking fine.

Hattie—[Looking at him searchingly.] You look well, too—thinner maybe—and tired. [Then as she sees him frowning.] But where’s Ella?

Jim—With Ma. [Apologetically.] She sort of—broke down—when we came in. The trip wore her out.

Hattie—[Coldly.] I see.

Jim—Oh, it’s nothing serious. Nerves. She needs a rest.

Hattie—Wasn’t living in France restful?

Jim—Yes, but—too lonely—especially for her.

Hattie—[Resentfully.] Why? Didn’t the people there want to associate——?

Jim—[Quickly.] Oh, no indeedy, they didn’t think anything of that. [After a pause.] But—she did. For the first year it was all right. Ella 52liked everything a lot. She went out with French folks and got so she could talk it a little—and I learned it—a little. We were having a right nice time. I never thought then we’d ever want to come back here.

Hattie—[Frowning.] But—what happened to change you?

Jim—[After a pause—haltingly.] Well—you see—the first year—she and I were living around—like friends—like a brother and sister—like you and I might.

Hattie—[Her face becoming more and more drawn and tense.] You mean—then——? [She shudders—then after a pause.] She loves you, Jim?

Jim—If I didn’t know that I’d have to jump in the river.

Hattie—Are you sure she loves you?

Jim—Isn’t that why she’s suffering?

Hattie—[Letting her breath escape through her clenched teeth.] Ah!

Jim—[Suddenly springs up and shouts almost hysterically.] Why d’you ask me all those damn questions? Are you trying to make trouble between us?

Hattie—[Controlling herself—quietly.] No, Jim.

Jim—[After a pause—contritely.] I’m sorry, Hattie. I’m kind of on edge today. [He sinks down on his chair—then goes on as if something 53forced him to speak.] After that we got to living housed in. Ella didn’t want to see nobody, she said just the two of us was enough. I was happy then—and I really guess she was happy, too—in a way—for a while. [Again a pause.] But she never did get to wanting to go out any place again. She got to saying she felt she’d be sure to run into someone she knew—from over here. So I moved us out to the country where no tourist ever comes—but it didn’t make any difference to her. She got to avoiding the French folks the same as if they were Americans and I couldn’t get it out of her mind. She lived in the house and got paler and paler, and more and more nervous and scarey, always imagining things—until I got to imagining things, too. I got to feeling blue. Got to sneering at myself that I wasn’t any better than a quitter because I sneaked away right after getting married, didn’t face nothing, gave up trying to become a Member of the Bar—and I got to suspecting Ella must feel that way about me, too—that I wasn’t a real man!

Hattie—[Indignantly.] She couldn’t!

Jim—[With hostility.] You don’t need to tell me! All this was only in my own mind. We never quarreled a single bit. We never said a harsh word. We were as close to each other as could be. We were all there was in the world to each other. We were alone together! [A pause.] Well, one day I got so I couldn’t stand it. I could see she couldn’t 54stand it. So I just up and said: Ella, we’ve got to have a plain talk, look everything straight in the face, hide nothing, come out with the exact truth of the way we feel.

Hattie—And you decided to come back!

Jim—Yes. We decided the reason we felt sort of ashamed was we’d acted like cowards. We’d run away from the thing—and taken it with us. We decided to come back and face it and live it down in ourselves, and prove to ourselves we were strong in our love—and then, and that way only, by being brave we’d free ourselves, and gain confidence, and be really free inside and able then to go anywhere and live in peace and equality with ourselves and the world without any guilty uncomfortable feeling coming up to rile us. [He has talked himself now into a state of happy confidence.]

Hattie—[Bending over and kissing him.] Good for you! I admire you so much, Jim! I admire both of you! And are you going to begin studying right away and get admitted to the Bar?

Jim—You bet I am!

Hattie—You must, Jim! Our race needs men like you to come to the front and help—— [As voices are heard approaching she stops, stiffens, and her face grows cold.]

Jim—[Noticing this—warningly.] Remember Ella’s been sick! [Losing control—threateningly.] You be nice to her, you hear! [Mrs. Harris enters, 55showing Ella the way. The colored woman is plainly worried and perplexed. Ella is pale, with a strange, haunted expression in her eyes. She runs to Jim as to a refuge, clutching his hands in both of hers, looking from Mrs. Harris to Hattie with a frightened defiance.]

Mrs. H.—Dere he is, child, big’s life! She was afraid we’d done kidnapped you away, Jim.

Jim—[Patting her hand.] This place ought to be familiar, Ella. Don’t you remember playing here with us sometimes as a kid?

Ella—[Queerly—with a frown of effort.] I remember playing marbles one night—but that was on the street.

Jim—Don’t you remember Hattie?

Hattie—[Coming forward with a forced smile.] It was a long time ago—but I remember Ella. [She holds out her hand.]

Ella—[Taking it—looking at Hattie with the same queer defiance.] I remember. But you’ve changed so much.

Hattie—[Stirred to hostility by Ella’s manner—condescendingly.] Yes, I’ve grown older, naturally. [Then in a tone which, as if in spite of herself, becomes bragging.] I’ve worked so hard. First I went away to college, you know—then I took up post-graduate study—when suddenly I decided I’d accomplish more good if I gave up learning and took up teaching. [She suddenly checks herself, ashamed, 56and stung by Ella’s indifference.] But this sounds like stupid boasting. I don’t mean that. I was only explaining——

Ella—[Indifferently.] I didn’t know you’d been to school so long. [A pause.] Where are you teaching? In a colored school, I suppose. [There is an indifferent superiority in her words that is maddening to Hattie.]

Hattie—[Controlling herself.] Yes. A private school endowed by some wealthy members of our race.

Ella—[Suddenly—even eagerly.] Then you must have taken lots of examinations and managed to pass them, didn’t you?

Hattie—[Biting her lips.] I always passed with honors!

Ella—Yes, we both graduated from the same High School, didn’t we? That was dead easy for me. Why I hardly even looked at a book. But Jim says it was awfully hard for him. He failed one year, remember? [She turns and smiles at Jim—a tolerant, superior smile but one full of genuine love. Hattie is outraged, but Jim smiles.]

Jim—Yes, it was hard for me, Honey.

Ella—And the law school examinations Jim hardly ever could pass at all. Could you? [She laughs lovingly.]

Hattie—[Harshly.] Yes, he could! He can! He’ll pass them now—if you’ll give him a chance!

57Jim—[Angrily.] Hattie!

Mrs. Harris—Hold yo’ fool tongue!

Hattie—[Sullenly.] I’m sorry. [Ella has shrunk back against Jim. She regards Hattie with a sort of wondering hatred. Then she looks away about the room. Suddenly her eyes fasten on the primitive mask and she gives a stifled scream.]

Jim—What’s the matter, Honey?

Ella—[Pointing.] That! For God’s sake, what is it?

Hattie—[Scornfully.] It’s a Congo mask. [She goes and picks it up.] I’ll take it away if you wish. I thought you’d like it. It was my wedding present to Jim.

Ella—What is it?

Hattie—It’s a mask which used to be worn in religious ceremonies by my people in Africa. But, aside from that, it’s beautifully made, a work of Art by a real artist—as real in his way as your Michael Angelo. [Forces Ella to take it.] Here. Just notice the workmanship.

Ella—[Defiantly.] I’m not scared of it if you’re not. [Looking at it with disgust.] Beautiful? Well, some people certainly have queer notions! It looks ugly to me and stupid—like a kid’s game—making faces! [She slaps it contemptuously.] Pooh! You needn’t look hard at me. I’ll give you the laugh. [She goes to put it back on the stand.]

58Jim—Maybe, if it disturbs you, we better put it in some other room.

Ella—[Defiantly aggressive.] No. I want it here where I can give it the laugh! [She sets it there again—then turns suddenly on Hattie with aggressive determination.] Jim’s not going to take any more examinations! I won’t let him!

Hattie—[Bursting forth.] Jim! Do you hear that? There’s white justice!—their fear for their superiority!——

Ella—[With a terrified pleading.] Make her go away, Jim!

Jim—[Losing control—furiously to his sister.] Either you leave here—or we will!

Mrs. H.—[Weeping—throws her arms around Hattie.] Let’s go, chile! Let’s go!

Hattie—[Calmly now.] Yes, Ma. All right. [They go through the portières. As soon as they are gone, Jim suddenly collapses into a chair and hides his head in his hands. Ella stands beside him for a moment. She stares distractedly about her, at the portrait, at the mask, at the furniture, at Jim. She seems fighting to escape from some weight on her mind. She throws this off and, completely her old self for the moment, kneels by Jim and pats his shoulder.]

Ella—[With kindness and love.] Don’t, Jim! Don’t cry, please! You don’t suppose I really meant that about the examinations, do you? Why, 59of course, I didn’t mean a word! I couldn’t mean it! I want you to take the examinations! I want you to pass! I want you to be a lawyer! I want you to be the best lawyer in the country! I want you to show ’em—all the dirty sneaking; gossiping liars that talk behind our backs—what a man I married. I want the whole world to know you’re the whitest of the white! I want you to climb and climb—and step on ’em, stamp right on their mean faces! I love you, Jim. You know that!

Jim—[Calm again—happily.] I hope so, Honey—and I’ll make myself worthy.

Hattie—[Appears in the doorway—quietly.] We’re going now, Jim.

Ella—No. Don’t go.

Hattie—We were going to, anyway. This is your house—Mother’s gift to you, Jim.

Jim—[Astonished.] But I can’t accept—— Where are you going?

Hattie—We’ve got a nice flat in the Bronx—[with bitter pride] in the heart of the Black Belt—the Congo—among our own people!

Jim—[Angrily.] You’re crazy—I’ll see Ma—— [He goes out. Hattie and Ella stare at each other with scorn and hatred for a moment, then Hattie goes. Ella remains kneeling for a moment by the chair, her eyes dazed and strange as she looks about her. Then she gets to her feet and stands before the portrait of Jim’s father—with a sneer.]

60Ella—It’s his Old Man—all dolled up like a circus horse! Well, they can’t help it. It’s in the blood, I suppose. They’re ignorant, that’s all there is to it. [She moves to the mask—forcing a mocking tone.] Hello, sport! Who d’you think you’re scaring? Not me! I’ll give you the laugh. He won’t pass, you wait and see. Not in a thousand years! [She goes to the window and looks down at the street and mutters.] All black! Every one of them! [Then with sudden excitement.] No, there’s one. Why, it’s Shorty! [She throws the window open and calls.] Shorty! Shorty! Hello, Shorty! [She leans out and waves—then stops, remains there for a moment looking down, then comes back into the room suddenly as if she wanted to hide—her whole face in an anguish.] Say! Say! I wonder?—No, he didn’t hear you. Yes, he did, too! He must have! I yelled so loud you could hear me in Jersey! No, what are you talking about? How would he hear with all kids yelling down there? He never heard a word, I tell you! He did, too! He didn’t want to hear you! He didn’t want to let anyone know he knew you! Why don’t you acknowledge it? What are you lying about? I’m not! Why shouldn’t he? Where does he come in to—for God’s sake, who is Shorty, anyway? A pimp! Yes, and a dope-peddler, too! D’you mean to say he’d have the nerve to hear me call him and then deliberately——? Yes, I mean to say it! I do say it! 61And it’s true, and you know it, and you might as well be honest for a change and admit it! He heard you but he didn’t want to hear you! He doesn’t want to know you any more. No, not even him! He’s afraid it’d get him in wrong with the old gang. Why? You know well enough! Because you married a—a—a—well, I won’t say it, but you know without my mentioning names! [Ella springs to her feet in horror and shakes off her obsession with a frantic effort.] Stop! [Then whimpering like a frightened child.] Jim! Jim! Jim! Where are you? I want you, Jim! [She runs out of the room as

[The Curtain Falls]

62

ACT TWO SCENE TWO

Scene—The same. Six months later. It is evening. The walls of the room appear shrunken in, the ceiling lowered, so that the furniture, the portrait, the mask look unnaturally large and domineering. Jim is seated at the table studying, law books piled by his elbows. He is keeping his attention concentrated only by a driving physical effort which gives his face the expression of a runner’s near the tape. His forehead shines with perspiration. He mutters one sentence from Blackstone over and over again, tapping his forehead with his fist in time to the rhythm he gives the stale words. But, in spite of himself, his attention wanders, his eyes have an uneasy, hunted look, he starts at every sound in the house or from the street. Finally, he remains rigid, Blackstone forgotten, his eyes fixed on the portières with tense grief. Then he groans, slams the book shut, goes to the window and throws it open and sinks down beside it, his arms on the sill, his head resting wearily on his arms, staring out into the night, the pale 63glare from the arc-lamp on the corner throwing his face into relief. The portières on the right are parted and Hattie comes in.

Hattie—[Not seeing him at the table.] Jim! [Discovering him.] Oh, there you are. What’re you doing?

Jim—[Turning to her.] Resting. Cooling my head. [Forcing a smile.] These law books certainly are a sweating proposition! [Then, anxiously.] How is she?

Hattie—She’s asleep now. I felt it was safe to leave her for a minute. [After a pause.] What did the doctor tell you, Jim?

Jim—The same old thing. She must have rest, he says, her mind needs rest—— [Bitterly.] But he can’t tell me any prescription for that rest—leastways not any that’d work.

Hattie—[After a pause.] I think you ought to leave her, Jim—or let her leave you—for a while, anyway.

Jim—[Angrily.] You’re like the doctor. Everything’s so simple and easy. Do this and that happens. Only it don’t. Life isn’t simple like that—not in this case, anyway—no, it isn’t simple a bit. [After a pause.] I can’t leave her. She can’t leave me. And there’s a million little reasons combining to make one big reason why we can’t. [A pause.] For her sake—if it’d do her good—I’d go—I’d leave—I’d do anything—because I love her. I’d kill 64myself even—jump out of this window this second—I’ve thought it over, too—but that’d only make matters worse for her. I’m all she’s got in the world! Yes, that isn’t bragging or fooling myself. I know that for a fact! Don’t you know that’s true? [There is a pleading for the certainty he claims.]

Hattie—Yes, I know she loves you, Jim. I know that now.

Jim—[Simply.] Then we’ve got to stick together to the end, haven’t we, whatever comes—and hope and pray for the best? [A pause—then hopefully.] I think maybe this is the crisis in her mind. Once she settles this in herself, she’s won to the other side. And me—once I become a Member of the Bar—then I win, too! We’re both free—by our own fighting down our own weakness! We’re both really, truly free! Then we can be happy with ourselves here or anywhere. She’ll be proud then! Yes, she’s told me again and again, she says she’ll be actually proud!

Hattie—[Turning away to conceal her emotion.] Yes, I’m sure—but you mustn’t study too hard, Jim! You mustn’t study too awfully hard!

Jim—[Gets up and goes to the table and sits down wearily.] Yes, I know. Oh, I’ll pass easily. I haven’t got any scarey feeling about that any more. And I’m doing two years’ work in one here alone. That’s better than schools, eh?

Hattie—[Doubtfully.] It’s wonderful, Jim.

Jim—[His spirit evaporating.] If I can only hold out! It’s hard! I’m worn out. I don’t sleep. 65I get to thinking and thinking. My head aches and burns like fire with thinking. Round and round my thoughts go chasing like crazy chickens hopping and flapping before the wind. It gets me crazy mad—’cause I can’t stop!

Hattie—[Watching him for a while and seeming to force herself to speak.] The doctor didn’t tell you all, Jim.

Jim—[Dully.] What’s that?

Hattie—He told me you’re liable to break down too, if you don’t take care of yourself.

Jim—[Abjectly weary.] Let ’er come! I don’t care what happens to me. Maybe if I get sick she’ll get well. There’s only so much bad luck allowed to one family, maybe. [He forces a wan smile.]

Hattie—[Hastily.] Don’t give in to that idea, for the Lord’s sake!

Jim—I’m tired—and blue—that’s all.

Hattie—[After another long pause.] I’ve got to tell you something else, Jim.

Jim—[Dully.] What?

Hattie—The doctor said Ella’s liable to be sick like this a very long time.

Jim—He told me that too—that it’d be a long time before she got back her normal strength. Well, I suppose that’s got to be expected.

Hattie—[Slowly.] He didn’t mean convalescing—what he told me. [A long pause.]

Jim—[Evasively.] I’m going to get other doctors 66in to see Ella—specialists. This one’s a damn fool.

Hattie—Be sensible, Jim. You’ll have to face the truth—sooner or later.

Jim—[Irritably.] I know the truth about Ella better’n any doctor.

Hattie—[Persuasively.] She’d get better so much sooner if you’d send her away to some nice sanitarium——

Jim—No! She’d die of shame there!

Hattie—At least until after you’ve taken your examinations——

Jim—To hell with me!

Hattie—Six months. That wouldn’t be long to be parted.

Jim—What are you trying to do—separate us? [He gets to his feet—furiously.] Go on out! Go on out!

Hattie—[Calmly.] No, I won’t. [Sharply.] There’s something that’s got to be said to you and I’m the only one with the courage—— [Intensely.] Tell me, Jim, have you heard her raving when she’s out of her mind?

Jim—[With a shudder.] No!

Hattie—You’re lying, Jim. You must have—if you don’t stop your ears—and the doctor says she may develop a violent mania, dangerous for you—get worse and worse until—Jim, you’ll go crazy too—living this way. Today she raved on about “Black! Black!” and cried because she said her skin 67was turning black—that you had poisoned her——

Jim—[In anguish.] That’s only when she’s out of her mind.

Hattie—And then she suddenly called me a dirty nigger.

Jim—No! She never said that ever! She never would!

Hattie—She did—and kept on and on! [A tense pause.] She’ll be saying that to you soon.

Jim—[Torturedly.] She don’t mean it! She isn’t responsible for what she’s saying!

Hattie—I know she isn’t—yet she is just the same. It’s deep down in her or it wouldn’t come out.

Jim—Deep down in her people—not deep in her.

Hattie—I can’t make such distinctions. The race in me, deep in me, can’t stand it. I can’t play nurse to her any more, Jim,—not even for your sake. I’m afraid—afraid of myself—afraid sometime I’ll kill her dead to set you free! [She loses control and begins to cry.]

Jim—[After a long pause—somberly.] Yes, I guess you’d better stay away from here. Good-by.

Hattie—Who’ll you get to nurse her, Jim,—a white woman?

Jim—Ella’d die of shame. No, I’ll nurse her myself.

Hattie—And give up your studies?

Jim—I can do both.

Hattie—You can’t! You’ll get sick yourself! 68Why, you look terrible even as it is—and it’s only beginning!

Jim—I can do anything for her! I’m all she’s got in the world! I’ve got to prove I can be all to her! I’ve got to prove worthy! I’ve got to prove she can be proud of me! I’ve got to prove I’m the whitest of the white!

Hattie—[Stung by this last—with rebellious bitterness.] Is that the ambition she’s given you? Oh, you soft, weak-minded fool, you traitor to your race! And the thanks you’ll get—to be called a dirty nigger—to hear her cursing you because she can never have a child because it’ll be born black——!

Jim—[In a frenzy.] Stop!

Hattie—I’ll say what must be said even though you kill me, Jim. Send her to an asylum before you both have to be sent to one together.

Jim—[With a sudden wild laugh.] Do you think you’re threatening me with something dreadful now? Why, I’d like that. Sure, I’d like that! Maybe she’d like it better, too. Maybe we’d both find it all simple then—like you think it is now. Yes. [He laughs again.]

Hattie—[Frightenedly.] Jim!

Jim—Together! You can’t scare me even with hell fire if you say she and I go together. It’s heaven then for me! [With sudden savagery.] You go out of here! All you’ve ever been aiming to do is to separate us so we can’t be together!

69Hattie—I’ve done what I did for your own good.

Jim—I have no own good. I only got a good together with her. I’m all she’s got in the world! Let her call me nigger! Let her call me the whitest of the white! I’m all she’s got in the world, ain’t I? She’s all I’ve got! You with your fool talk of the black race and the white race! Where does the human race get a chance to come in? I suppose that’s simple for you. You lock it up in asylums and throw away the key! [With fresh violence.] Go along! There isn’t going to be no more people coming in here to separate—excepting the doctor. I’m going to lock the door and it’s going to stay locked, you hear? Go along, now!

Hattie—[Confusedly.] Jim!

Jim—[Pushes her out gently and slams the door after her—vaguely.] Go along! I got to study. I got to nurse Ella, too. Oh, I can do it! I can do anything for her! [He sits down at the table and, opening the book, begins again to recite the line from Blackstone in a meaningless rhythm, tapping his forehead with his fist. Ella enters noiselessly through the portières. She wears a red dressing-gown over her night-dress but is in her bare feet. She has a carving-knife in her right hand. Her eyes fasten on Jim with a murderous mania. She creeps up behind him. Suddenly he senses something and turns. As he sees her he gives a cry, jumping up and catching her wrist. She stands fixed, her eyes growing bewildered and frightened.]

70Jim—[Aghast.] Ella! For God’s sake! Do you want to murder me? [She does not answer. He shakes her.]

Ella—[Whimperingly.] They kept calling me names as I was walking along—I can’t tell you what, Jim—and then I grabbed a knife——

Jim—Yes! See! This! [She looks at it frightenedly.]

Ella—Where did I——? I was having a nightmare—— Where did they go—I mean, how did I get here? [With sudden terrified pleading—like a little girl.] Oh, Jim—don’t ever leave me alone! I have such terrible dreams, Jim—promise you’ll never go away!

Jim—I promise, Honey.

Ella—[Her manner becoming more and more childishly silly.] I’ll be a little girl—and you’ll be old Uncle Jim who’s been with us for years and years—— Will you play that?

Jim—Yes, Honey. Now you better go back to bed.

Ella—[Like a child.] Yes, Uncle Jim. [She turns to go. He pretends to be occupied by his book. She looks at him for a second—then suddenly asks in her natural woman’s voice.] Are you studying hard, Jim?

Jim—Yes, Honey. Go to bed now. You need to rest, you know.

Ella—[Stands looking at him, fighting with herself. A startling transformation comes over her 71face. It grows mean, vicious, full of jealous hatred. She cannot contain herself but breaks out harshly with a cruel, venomous grin.] You dirty nigger!

Jim—[Starting as if he’d been shot.] Ella! For the good Lord’s sake!

Ella—[Coming out of her insane mood for a moment, aware of something terrible, frightened.] Jim! Jim! Why are you looking at me like that?

Jim—What did you say to me just then?

Ella—[Gropingly.] Why, I—I said—I remember saying, are you studying hard, Jim? Why? You’re not mad at that, are you?

Jim—No, Honey. What made you think I was mad? Go to bed now.

Ella—[Obediently.] Yes, Jim. [She passes behind the portières. Jim stares before him. Suddenly her head is thrust out at the side of the portières. Her face is again that of a vindictive maniac.] Nigger! [The face disappears—she can be heard running away, laughing with cruel satisfaction. Jim bows his head on his outstretched arms but he is too stricken for tears.]

[The Curtain Falls]

72

ACT TWO SCENE THREE

Scene—The same, six months later. The sun has just gone down. The Spring twilight sheds a vague, gray light about the room, picking out the Congo mask on the stand by the window. The walls have shrunken in still more, the ceiling now barely clears the people’s heads, the furniture and the characters appear enormously magnified. Law books are stacked in two great piles on each side of the table. Ella comes in from the right, the carving-knife in her hand. She is pitifully thin, her face is wasted, but her eyes glow with a mad energy, her movements are abrupt and spring-like. She looks stealthily about the room, then advances and stands before the mask, her arms akimbo, her attitude one of crazy mockery, fear and bravado. She is dressed in the red dressing-gown, grown dirty and ragged now, and is in her bare feet.

Ella—I’ll give you the laugh, wait and see! [Then in a confidential tone.] He thought I was 73asleep! He called, Ella, Ella—but I kept my eyes shut, I pretended to snore. I fooled him good. [She gives a little hoarse laugh.] This is the first time he’s dared to leave me alone for months and months. I’ve been wanting to talk to you every day but this is the only chance—— [With sudden violence—flourishing her knife.] What’re you grinning about, you dirty nigger, you? How dare you grin at me? I guess you forget what you are! That’s always the way. Be kind to you, treat you decent, and in a second you’ve got a swelled head, you think you’re somebody, you’re all over the place putting on airs, why, it’s got so I can’t even walk down the street without seeing niggers, niggers everywhere. Hanging around, grinning, grinning—going to school—pretending they’re white—taking examinations——[She stops, arrested by the word, then suddenly.] That’s where he’s gone—down to the mail-box—to see if there’s a letter from the Board—telling him—— But why is he so long? [She calls pitifully.] Jim! [Then in a terrified whimper.] Maybe he’s passed! Maybe he’s passed! [In a frenzy.] No! No! He can’t! I’d kill him! I’d kill myself! [Threatening the Congo mask.] It’s you who’re to blame for this! Yes, you! Oh, I’m on to you! [Then appealingly.] But why d’you want to do this to us? What have I ever done wrong to you? What have you got against me? I married you, didn’t I? Why don’t you let Jim 74alone? Why don’t you let him be happy as he is—with me? Why don’t you let me be happy? He’s white, isn’t he—the whitest man that ever lived? Where do you come in to interfere? Black! Black! Black as dirt! You’ve poisoned me! I can’t wash myself clean! Oh, I hate you! I hate you! Why don’t you let Jim and I be happy? [She sinks down in his chair, her arms outstretched on the table. The door from the hall is slowly opened and Jim appears. His bloodshot, sleepless eyes stare from deep hollows. His expression is one of crushed numbness. He holds an open letter in his hand.]

Jim—[Seeing Ella—in an absolutely dead voice.] Honey—I thought you were asleep.

Ella—[Starts and wheels about in her chair.] What’s that? You got—you got a letter——?

Jim—[Turning to close the door after him.] From the Board of Examiners for admission to the Bar, State of New York—God’s country! [He finishes up with a chuckle of ironic self-pity so spent as to be barely audible.]

Ella—[Writhing out of her chair like some fierce animal, the knife held behind her—with fear and hatred.] You didn’t—you didn’t—you didn’t pass, did you?

Jim—[Looking at her wildly.] Pass? Pass? [He begins to chuckle and laugh between sentences and phrases, rich, Negro laughter, but heart-breaking in its mocking grief.] Good Lord, child, how 75come you can ever imagine such a crazy idea? Pass? Me? Jim Crow Harris? Nigger Jim Harris—become a full-fledged Member of the Bar! Why the mere notion of it is enough to kill you with laughing! It’d be against all natural laws, all human right and justice. It’d be miraculous, there’d be earthquakes and catastrophes, the seven Plagues’d come again and locusts’d devour all the money in the banks, the second Flood’d come roaring and Noah’d fall overboard, the sun’d drop out of the sky like a ripe fig, and the Devil’d perform miracles, and God’d be tipped head first right out of the Judgment seat! [He laughs, maudlinly uproarious.]

Ella—[Her face beginning to relax, to light up.] Then you—you didn’t pass?

Jim—[Spent—giggling and gasping idiotically.] Well, I should say not! I should certainly say not!

Ella—[With a cry of joy, pushes all the law books crashing to the floor—then with childish happiness she grabs Jim by both hands and dances up and down.] Oh, Jim, I knew it! I knew you couldn’t! Oh, I’m so glad, Jim! I’m so happy! You’re still my old Jim—and I’m so glad! [He looks at her dazedly, a fierce rage slowly gathering on his face. She dances away from him. His eyes follow her. His hands clench. She stands in front of the mask—triumphantly.] There! What did I tell you? I told you I’d give you the laugh! [She begins to laugh with wild unrestraint, grabs the mask 76from its place, sets it in the middle of the table and plunging the knife down through it pins it to the table.] There! Who’s got the laugh now?

Jim—[His eyes bulging—hoarsely.] You devil! You white devil woman! [In a terrible roar, raising his fists above her head.] You devil!

Ella—[Looking up at him with a bewildered cry of terror.] Jim! [Her appeal recalls him to himself. He lets his arms slowly drop to his sides, bowing his head. Ella points tremblingly to the mask.] It’s all right, Jim! It’s dead. The devil’s dead. See! It couldn’t live—unless you passed. If you’d passed it would have lived in you. Then I’d have had to kill you, Jim, don’t you see—or it would have killed me. But now I’ve killed it. [She pats his hand.] So you needn’t ever be afraid any more, Jim.

Jim—[Dully.] I’ve got to sit down, Honey. I’m tired. I haven’t had much chance for sleep in so long—— [He slumps down in the chair by the table.]

Ella—[Sits down on the floor beside him and holds his hand. Her face is gradually regaining an expression that is happy, childlike and pretty.] I know, Jim! That was my fault. I wouldn’t let you sleep. I couldn’t let you. I kept thinking if he sleeps good then he’ll be sure to study good and then he’ll pass—and the devil’ll win!

Jim—[With a groan.] Don’t, Honey!

Ella—[With a childish grin.] That was why I 77carried that knife around—[she frowns—puzzled]—one reason—to keep you from studying and sleeping by scaring you.

Jim—I wasn’t scared of being killed. I was scared of what they’d do to you after.

Ella—[After a pause—like a child.] Will God forgive me, Jim?

Jim—Maybe He can forgive what you’ve done to me; and maybe He can forgive what I’ve done to you; but I don’t see how He’s going to forgive—Himself.

Ella—I prayed and prayed. When you were away taking the examinations and I was alone with the nurse, I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep but I was praying with all my might: O God, don’t let Jim pass!

Jim—[With a sob.] Don’t, Honey, don’t! For the good Lord’s sake! You’re hurting me!

Ella—[Frightenedly.] How, Jim? Where? [Then after a pause—suddenly.] I’m sick, Jim. I don’t think I’ll live long.

Jim—[Simply.] Then I won’t either. Somewhere yonder maybe—together—our luck’ll change. But I wanted—here and now—before you—we—I wanted to prove to you—to myself—to become a full-fledged Member—so you could be proud—— [He stops. Words fail and he is beyond tears.]

Ella—[Brightly.] Well, it’s all over, Jim. Everything’ll be all right now. [Chattering along.] I’ll be just your little girl, Jim—and you’ll be my 78little boy—just as we used to be, remember, when we were beaux; and I’ll put shoe blacking on my face and pretend I’m black and you can put chalk on your face and pretend you’re white just as we used to do—and we can play marbles—only you mustn’t all the time be a boy. Sometimes you must be my old kind Uncle Jim who’s been with us for years and years. Will you, Jim?

Jim—[With utter resignation.] Yes, Honey.

Ella—And you’ll never, never, never, never leave me, Jim?

Jim—Never, Honey.

Ella—’Cause you’re all I’ve got in the world—and I love you, Jim. [She kisses his hand as a child might, tenderly and gratefully.]

Jim—[Suddenly throws himself on his knees and raises his shining eyes, his transfigured face.] Forgive me, God—and make me worthy! Now I see Your Light again! Now I hear Your Voice! [He begins to weep in an ecstasy of religious humility.] Forgive me, God, for blaspheming You! Let this fire of burning suffering purify me of selfishness and make me worthy of the child You send me for the woman You take away!

Ella—[Jumping to her feet—excitedly.] Don’t cry, Jim! You mustn’t cry! I’ve got only a little time left and I want to play. Don’t be old Uncle Jim now. Be my little boy, Jim. Pretend you’re Painty Face and I’m Jim Crow. Come and play!

79Jim—[Still deeply exalted.] Honey, Honey, I’ll play right up to the gates of Heaven with you! [She tugs at one of his hands, laughingly trying to pull him up from his knees as

[The Curtain Falls]

81