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Atta Derel Zach. SPECIAL NOTE. Anyone sing permison t pda: AN OCTOROON i rural ge Credit tothe Autor) as sle end exclusive Author(s) ofthe Py om the tide page of MT progams disabared in connection with performances ofthe Play and in a instances in which de tle of te Play appear including pented or digital marerals fbr adversing, publicing or athenvise xpoiting the Pay ance a production ‘Beveok Please se your preiucson license for Font size and eypeface requirements Be advised shat these may be addon] ert egired ig ll programs am promodiogal material Suck language wil belied eer the Adonal Bling’ Behn of practon lan the Genet pony to emu any and {Trequted bling included inthe eqs places po the tery ofthe exes 3c performance rights in che Unica sete SECIMLNOTEONSONGS AND RECORDINGS, For peformances of copyight songs, stngements or eeoings mentioned 2 SEB he pera of te copyaghowee) moat Fe oaaed: Oke Song, avangemeat or tccordings may be subadeted provided permision from TeSys owner) of ach tng anger or cons bao {Shgsnrrangement or reoudiagy inthe pubic domain may be subst, AN OCTOROON was presented by Soho Rep (Sarah Benson, Actistic Director; Cynthia Flowers, Executive Director), in association. with John Adrian Selzer, at Soho Rep in New York City, opening on May 4, 2014, Ie was direeted by Sarah Benson; the original music and musical direction were by César Alvarez; the choreography was by David Neumann; the set design was by Mimi Lien; the costume design was by Wade Laboissonnicre; the lighting design was by Matt Frey; che sound design was by Matt Tiemey; the projections were by Jeff Sugg; and the production stage manager was Amanda Spooner. ‘The cast was as follows: BJ}(GEORGE/M'CLOSKY... Chris Myers PLAYWRIGHT/ WAHNOTEE/LAFOUCHE... Danay Wolohan ASSISTANT/PETE/PAUL .... Ben Horner ZOE. ‘Amber Gray DORA. ow Zoé Winters MINNIE. e Jocelyn Bioh, DIDO. “Marsha Stephanie Blake GRACE. . ‘Shyko AmosDRAMATIS PERSONAE This is the suggested doubling forthe play, with actor echnicities listed in order of preference: BJ] — played by an African-American actor or a black actor. GEORGE — played by the same actor playing BJ) MCLOSKY — played by the same actor playing BYJ. PLAYWRIGH pass as white WAHINOTEE — played by the same actor playing PLAYWRIGHT. LAFOUCHE— played by the same actor playing PLAYWRIGHT, — played by a white actor or an actor who car ASSISTANT — played by a Native American acton a mixed-race ‘actor, a South Asian actor, or one who can pass as Native American, PETE — played by the same actor playing ASSISTANT. PAUL — played by the same actor playing ASSISTANT. ZOE — played by an octoroon actress, a whice actress, a quadroon actress, a biracial actress, a multi-racial actress, or an actress of color swho can pass as an octoroon, DORA— played bya white actress or an actress who can passas white MINNIE — played by an African-American accress, a black actress oran actress of color. DIDO — played by an African-American actress, a black actress, or an actress of color. GRACE — played by an Affican-American actress, a black actress, ‘ran actress of colo. BR'ER RABBIT — played by the actual playwright or another artist involved in production, RATTS — played by the same actor playing BR'ER RABBIT. “Lf such an imitation of human beings, sufering from their fate, be well contrived and executed in all its parts, the spectator is led to feel a particular sympathy with the artificial jos or sorrows of which be is the witness. This condition of bis mind is called the theatrical illusion. The enaft of the drama isto produce it, and all its concerns conduce to, and depend upon, this attainment.” Dion Boucicault The Art of Dramatic CompositionAN OCTOROON ‘THE ART OF DRAMATIC COMPOSITION: APROLOGUE, BU] ensers an empiy, unfortunate-looking theatre, mostly — sf not completely — naked. He holds a remote control and surveys the audience for a moment, before: BJJ. Hi, everyone. I'm a “black playwright.” (Beat) I don't know exactly what thar means, but I'm here to tell you a story: “Let's find a way to help you deal with your low-grade depression,” iy therapist recently said to me. “Okay...” “What makes you happy?” “I dontt know” “Really? Nothing makes you happy’ “Nor really.” “What about work? Doesnt the theatre make you happy?” “I mean ... Some of it. Not all of i.” “So you're not excited about your work?” “I mean P'm not-not excited” “Do you have any carer goals?” acer ‘Anyone’ career you admire? Any professional role models?” “In the theatre?” “Yeah — are there any playwrights who you admire?” “Anyone?” “I don't know —* “Juse — just say the first name that comes to mind.”“Dion Boucicaul?” “Who is that?” “He’ a playwright. He's dead. He wrote in the nineteenth century.” “Pve never heard of him.” Yeah — no one cares about him anymore, He's dead.” “ ... So yout role model is someone no one cares about?” “{ mean, people cared aboue him when he was alive.” “Ob, okay ....And what did he write?” “Um, well, he’s probably best known here for writing this play called The Octoraon?” ©The Octoroon’?” Whats an “octoroon?” “Irs a person who is one-cighth black.” “Ah... And you ... like this play?” ae “Okay .... Well here's an idea: ‘Why don't you try adapting this ‘Octorson! — for fun. I think ir importanc to re-connect with things you feel or have felt positive feelings for.” So did. Or I tried to. Bue then all che whice guys quic. ‘And then I coulds'e find any more white guys to play any of the white guy parts, because they all fle ic was t00 “melodramatic.” Iweat back to my therapist and she was like, “Do you think that maybe you're angry at white people?” “Uh — what “I said, ‘Do you think that maybe you'te angry at white people?” And Lwas like, “Uh, I dont think f'so—” “Like subconsciously?” “Um, No, Like most of my best Friends are whit “Then my therapist was like, “Are you sure?” Yeah. Tam literally surrounded by white people all the time.” “Are you really, really sure though? Like 100% sure?” Llooked at my therapist, who was white. Beat.) “Well, who needs white guys?” she said, nervously. “De you really need them? Why can't you just play the parts?” “Mer” “Yes, Int ‘colorblind casting’ a “thing? [And isn that how the theatre started for you? As an actor? Maybe its worth going back to the source of your relationship with this ... thing you do.” “Okay...” “So why don't you try playing the parts you need? ‘Maybe you!l learn something from it “Like what?” “T don’t know. Whatever itis you learn from the theatre. Sympathy? Compassion? Maybe even understanding?” (BJJ preses a burton on his remote control and the insro 10 a loud, vnilgar, bas-heavy, bypermasculine hip hop track begins to play om a loop. BIJ retrieves a vanity table and folding chair from somewhere and is starting to set up bis makeup station, when he ‘remembers something and pauses the mtsic.) Just kidding, I don't have a therapist. (Unpausesit,repauses it.) Teant afford one. (Unpauses it, repauses it) You people ate my therapy. (BU/ wnpauses the music again and the actual song plays as he finishes setting up his makeup station. He finds 1 bose of wine or some alcohol in « drawer, opens is, and chugs the entire thing. The alechol has no visible effect on him, now ar ever. Then BIJ gets into whireface — possibly tres to cover his entire body with it This should go on for some time, After he is sassfied, be slowly turns around and, wishous taking bis evs off the audience, ery, very lowly sand very, very stocally gives himself an incredibly powerfl wedge. He fakes the remote and turns the music down to underscoring. During the following, be continues getting into makeup, touching up, fnesing,) believe an important part of being a good artist is recognizing your limits So I can respect the pussies who pussy our of a project. respect it when they get their “people” co be all lie, “Well, such-and-such doesn't really get che stuff about slaves.” Tim like, “What is thete not to get? Kes slavery. And I'm not even asking you to play the slaves You'e playing che goddamn slave owne Tmean, God forbid you ask a black guy to play some football playing illiterate drug-addict magical negro Iraq vet with PTSD who's secretly on the DL with HIV but who's also trying to get out of a genetic ghecto with his pregnant obese girlfriend who has anger management issues from 2 history of sexual abuse — 9in fact, everyone's been sexually abused — and someones mother has a monologue where she's snotting out of her nose and crying everywhere because she's been caught smoking crack and fired from hee job as a hotel maid .... (Beat) (just made that up ... Dibs.) (Beat,) God forbid any actor of color not jump at the chance to play an offensive bag of garbage so far fiom his own life ‘ue which some idiot critic or marketing intern is going to describe as a gricy, cruthful portrayal of “the Black experience in America,” but the minute you ask a white guy to play a racist whose racism isnt “complicated” by some monologue where he like “I don't mean to be racist! Tes just complicated!” he doesnt return your phone calls? ‘Then my therapist was like, “Don‘e you think you ought to not shit where you eat?” and Iwas like, “Well, wbat happens ifI shit where I starve?” (Playwright enters lio stly — if nat completely — naked and stands in the back, listening) “Black playwright” carte even wipe my ass without someone trying to accuse me of deconstructing the race problem in America, Leven tried writing a play about talking farm animals once — just ro avoid talking about people — and this literary manager was like, “Oh my God! You're totally deconstructing Aftican folktales arent you!” Ym like, “No, I'm just writing about farm animals.” ‘And she's like, “No, no. You're toll deconstructing Aftican folktales, “Thats cotally what you're doing.” And I was ike, “Bitch! Pm not fucking deconstructing any fucking African fucking folktales! 10 Tim writing a fucking play about ‘ny issues with substance abuse and then Iam attributing the dialogue to a facking fox and a fucking rabbit to protect identities! Fuck you! Give me a fucking break!” And, by break, I mean a production. (BJ puts a blonde wig on — athe final touch. Ifthe music hasn't ended by now, BIJ pauses it) So then my therapist asked me about my dreams. ‘And I cold her about this dream I had recendy. A dream I keep having. Basically, Tam being attacked by a swarm of bees. Tam covered in bees. Bees are all over me — alll over my arms and legs, may chest — all over my neck, all over my faee, in my eyes and I cant see a thing. ‘And, I don't know if you know this, but the majority of deaths resulting from bee swarsns are nor from bee stings — but actually from suffocation. Basically, bees have evolved, to locate your breath and they follow ie to your face, where some of them cover your eyes to blind you and others climb inside your nostrils and mouth, ‘causing you to choke to death, Ie’ all very organized. (Beat,) But, anyway, in my dream, ic occurs to me that [need 0 figure out something to do before the bees asphyiate me ‘And I start to panic. Every time. And it occurs to me that T should call for help, and so, I start screaming. I'm like: “SOMEBODY! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP!” (Beat) And then, every time, I realize that Pm screaming. And that, if I were actually sulfocating, Twouldnit be able to scream. (Beat,) rtSo I must not be suffocating. (Beat,) “The bees arent suffocating me. (Beat) ‘And, every time, when I reach this exact point where I realize this, the bees dissipate, They fly away. ‘And che point of view changes vo that angle in your dreams ‘where you sometimes see yourself, and I could see chac ‘what looked like a swarm of bees atacking me was actually a swarm of bees that had come together for a brief moment inco the shape of a me being arcacked by a swarm of bees and it dawns on me, sadly, that wasn’t being attacked by the bees. was the bees. And when they dissipate and fly away, they leave nothing behind. (Beat.) In other words, I was nothing. (Beat) So my therapist goes, "Well, you know, that’s interesting because, you know, the Ancient Greeks believed that a swarm of bees was actually a sign that Dionysus was present! ‘You know Dionysus? The Greek god of —” ‘And Pm like, "Yes, bitch, thank you! I know who Dionysus ist Ym a playwright.” (Beat, into the mirror, to no one in particular.) “Black playwright.” Fuck you! You're melodramatic! PLAYWRIGHT, (Mocking him, slightly whiny.) “Youice melodramatic” (Beas, of BU] glaring, again whiny.) “Fuck you — meh meh meh — ‘reals — folktales — actors — wah wahh wah wahbh wasaah — bees — waaaah — playwriting — waaah — ” (B/J glare: at Playwright, Playwright glares back. It's uncomfortable.) BY). Anyway — PLAYWRIGHT. (Still mocking.) Anyway — BY). (To Playwright, annoyed.) Fuck you! 2 PLAYWRIGHT. Fuck you! BJJ.. No! Fuck you! PLAYWRIGHT. No! Fuck yout! BJ. Fuuuuwuunck yoooooou! PLAYWRIGHT. Fuuuuuusuck yooooooou! (The following is in complete unison:) BYJ. Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck yout Fuck you! Fuck you! Puck you! Buck me? Fuck you! Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck me? Puck you! Fuck me? Puck you! Fuck me? Fuck you! PLAYWRIGHT. Fuck you! Fuck yout Fuck you! Fuck you! Euck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck me? Puck you! Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck me? Fucle you! Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck me? Fuck you! Euck me? Fuck you! (EB) gives up. Beai, before he kicks over his folding chair and exits suddenly, leaving Playwright with the audience.) Where was P? Seeing the audience for she first time.) Hee, shuts, (Throughout his speaking, Playwright very vividly and very intensely picks a mysterious wedgie that's been bothering him. He also seems t0 become progressively drunker, more belligerent.) Peck, Pm drunk. How did I get so drunk? (Re: the folding chair.) Whac is this? (Looks at i, picks it up, messes with it, seems to recognize it.) Is this a fecking chait? ‘Where is me assistant — me “intern”? WHERE THE FECK IS MY INTERN? (Assistant enters, an Indian actor — whatever that means to you — swearing a full Native American headdress and regular eloshes He carries on another vanity table and folding chair. He takes off the readdvess and begins sesing up makeup and costume for Playwright at one table and the makeup and costume for PetelPasu at another) “There you are. Fix this! (Gives his the chat.) What the feck is this filthy motherfacking place? ‘What happened to the fecking Winter Garden? You know, I fecking managed the Winter Garden? Our fecking toilets were nicer than this place. ‘There's not even a fecking petting zoo here. Where's your petting 200, hub? (Notice: Asistant lok at bir.) Whae? Why'd you look ar me like dat? (Asistant whispers something in Playwright’ ear.) Wha —? What do you mean it burned down? (Asitsane whispers Playworight collapses.) No! No? No! No! N io? Nof NO! NOOOOOO00O0000H"! 13(Assistant helps Playwright up, who is muttering and inconsolable,) No .... No ... My precious theatre ... no... (Assistant walks the sweepry Planoright to one ofthe vanities, pours him into a chat, and sts up a musie-playing device with some speakers, Fle puts on some old-timey popular music for Playwright. This ems to cheer hin up a bit. Asitant (goes back to bis vanity and starts preparing his own makeup, wigs, and ‘costumes for Pete/Paul. Meanwhile, Playtoright clumsily begins to get ready, starting with redface.) Time is like... so fecked up. You know? ‘Why, you ask? Well, first ofall, Ym apparently not famous anymore, which sucks. You don't even know who I am. ‘You got the fecking playwright sicting here — a fecking world-class famous fecking playwright Righe in your face Dion fecking Boucicault. You bunch of perverts — Watching me get ready like this, Can't even get a private Fecking dressing room, “There was a time when I ran this town! 1 was ikke the — I was like — “The King of the Theatre. Everybody hated on me and they were s000 jealous — Just like chey were hating on and being jealous of Jaysus bur nobody could mess with me! Thad the World Theatre at my feet! Hits everywhere! International hits! Hits in London. Hits in America. Hirs in London, Tinvenced things! I pioneered things! Like copysights! Yeah, that’ right! [brought you people copyright ‘And matinees! I invented matinees, bitches! Look it up! ‘And everyone loves matinees now don't you? Admit i ‘You love matinees! ‘That like five things — Not to mention me many stage tricks! HOW MANY THINGS DID YOU INVENT? (Beat) ‘That's what I thoughe. 4 I did all that shit for you and what did it get me? (Beas) Every ten seconds youre reviving ‘one-a Shakespeare's bullshits. He was 2 pedophile — you know that, right? And a deadbeat dad. ‘That’ right, he was a terrible father! (Beas, starts getting ready But, on the other hand, Kae ie the nice thing about the fature is you ean actually use negroes in your plays now. "That's pretty great. You really save on makeup. But can you believe you have to pay them? So we could only afford three negresses, Aad my assistant here is playing the other negroes. Tm supposed to tell you that, ‘Though he was a more convincing negro than the ones who to came to audition ... (Shrags,) Bur that’s show business. (Beas, more getting ready.) "Course, you still cant find any Indian actors — Hey, where did all the Indians go? ‘Though, I suppose its akay. was always pretty good at this parc ... (Beat, more getting ready.) You know — my name is actually derived from Dionysus. ‘You know who that is? “The god of harvest and beckecping, wine and theatre — that’s who! (Beat, finishes geiting ready, Isnt char weird? (ecterae: ahways thought that was a litle weitd. (Beat, surveying she room.) Perverts. (To Asisnant, re: the music.) fe Tin sick ofthis. Changeit. (Playwright puts on the headdress — his final ouch — as the Asistant changes she song on the music playing device. Anocher song sare playing — whatever’ssuper-popular on the radio right now, though preferably loud, vulgar, bas-heavy, hyperfeminine, and upbeat. Playwright perks up upon hearing it. To Assan.) ‘What is this? Tike this. Tam it up. Tsaid, cura it up! (Assistant can't turn it up any louder.) ‘Then put it in the speakers, you genius! (Assistant finds the remote cand turns it up. It mates the entire room quake, which Playwright 15Loves Assistant hurries about, clearing the space, and hands Playwright (I'm just going to say this right now so we can get it over with: Edon’t «4 tsmahasok before exiting. Playwright lip-synche for a ttle bit bfave knoto what « real slave sounded like. And neither do you.) the lip-synching tens into something eli. Playwright gets lose in the song. Playwright dance. Playwright headbangs, Playwright fancydaace. Playwright stalks his prey before thrashing about with his tomabewh ACT ONE “The shrashing becomes convubing, the convuliing becomes a shaking the 7 shaking becomes the music, the music becomes the play. The music nde : just as Wakmotee stumbles off is bis full Indian regalia, sloshed and The plantation Terrebonne, in Louisiana. A branch of the ‘swigging from a botsle, completely unaiware of his surroundings) Misstsippt is seen winding through the etate. A low-buile but extensive planters dvelling, swwrounded with a verandah: Or nor (Perhaps it’ just a theatre fll of cotton.) a Dido and Minnie are discovered. Dido is sweeping laboriously Minnie is just sort of lying around somewhere, fanning herelf MINNIE. (Eventually,) Do you need help or... a DIDO. Nave, gir I got it. Beat, while Dido sweeps.) MINNIE. You know, if you sweep on a diagonal with lighter, faster strokes, it’s a little more ficient. DIDO. Girl, what are you talking about? MINNIE. Yourarms get less tired and you let the air pressure do the work. Here. Let me show you. (Tates the broom and demonsirates) See? I learned it from Lucretia over in the hayloft before I gor transferred to the house. DIDO. And your arms feel less tired? MINNIE. Yes, giel. And ic takes the stress off your lower back. Here. (Gives the broom back.) You want a banana? DIDO. No! Do not gec us in trouble! MINNIE. (Taking a banana.) es just a banana. Relax! Shit, I picked “em ... (Beat, eating.) So what was working with Mammy like? DIDO. ‘The worst. I'm kind of glad that old witch finally up and. died. 1 already like you much better. MINNIE. Yeeuh. I ain't never really knowed her, but she used to be taking care of me when I was little and she was mean as hel. DIDO. ‘Yeah she was. MINNIE. She be taking care of you when you was litte? a e 16 7DIDO. [aint growed up here. MINNIE. You dist? DIDO. Naw, giel. I grew up at the Sunnyside place on the o:her side of the mountain, Mas Peyton won me in a poker game like MINNIE. Ohihiih. Okay. So youlnow Chrisand Darel and oem? DIDO. Yeewh. How you know Chris and Darnell, gil? MINNIE. Ob, you know, Chris was messin’ with Trisha over in the sugar mill for a Il bie an’ I met him and Darnell through herat a slave mixer over by the river before she dumped him because, you know, she couldn't deal with the long-distance. DIDO. Okay, okay — MINNIE. Yeeuh. So. (Beas, sunbarhing.) Can you believe that ‘Mast Peyton's been dead for two months? DIDO. I knovs right? Seem like only yesterday. MINNIE. You really think Mrs. Peyton’ upstairs dying fom heartbreak? DIDO. No. Thae bitch is dying cuz she's old as hell MINNIE. I know right? (Beat) You ever had to fuck hi? DIDO. Who? ‘MINNIE, Mast / Peyton. DIDO. Oh, nav You? MINNIE. Nav, he only like lightskinned-ed girs. But Renee, you |know, who was fuckin’ him all the time, she said he had the biggest dick she ever seen? DIDO. Really? MINNIE. Yeeub. Apparendy thar old-ass man was hung like a horse. DIDO. That is gross MINNIE. I know right? And now he dead. (Beat,) Whatchu think of the mew mas’? DIDO. Mas George? MINNIE. Yeah. DIDO. Height. He don't scem to really know what he doin’ just yet but he'll figure it out. Having slaves can't be chat hard, MINNIE, Would you fick him? DIDO. No, Minnie! Damn! Would you? (Beas. She would.) MINNIE, But I kind of ger the feeling you don’ really get a sty in the matter. (Beat) Dam it's hot! (Grace, who is very pregnant, wanders in, carrying something heavy from one place to some other place. The 18 women all look at each ovher. They clearly don't like each other. Super- nice, super-feke:) Hay, Grace! GRACE. Hi... (Grace exits. Minnie watches her leave, then rolls her eyes) MINNIE. Ugh, I can’t stand her. She is s0 fake. DIDO. Right? (Minnie goes back to sunbathing. Beat.) MINNIE. Hey, Dido. DIDO. Yeah? MINNIE. You ever thought of running away? DIDO. Aw, hell naw. Whac am I going to look like running through this hor-ass swamp? Uh uh MINNIE. 1 know, right? Grace's ass always ealking about running away now that Mast dead and I'm like, “Bitch, you need 0 calm your busybody ass down.” Haven't she heard these slavecatchers got these new dogs nowadays thar can fly and who are trained to fuckin’ ddrag yo! ass our of trees and carry you back? And then, even if you can outsmart these flying dogs, once you free, what you gonna do ‘once you fee? You jst gonna walk up in somebody house and be like, “Hey. Tm a slave. Help me.” That kind of naivet¢ is how niggas get kile, Tain’ never met a white person in my life who tryna help you escape from slavery. Like, you know? Grace is such a mess. DIDO. Why Grace always actin’ like she too good for everything? And I dontt know what people think they running away to. Aint nothing out there but mo’ swamp. MINNIE. I knove right? Anyway, I'm about to have me another done of these bananas. (Minnie goes to help herself to another banana, just as Pete enters.) PETE. Hey. DIDO. Hey, Pete. MINNE, Hey Pete PETE. I sce you finished fruit duty already, Minnie. Good job. You setting in allright? MINNIE. Almost. I like the new servants’ quarters but I chink my room might be a litde haunted — (People are heard in the house, coming outside. It’s Dora and George. Upon hearing them, Pete transforms into some sort of folk figure. Dora and George enter. Dora looks distraught. George comforts her half-heartediy,} PETE, (To Minnie, slapping her hand.) Hayt Hayt Drop dar banana fo! Lmurdah you! MINNIE. (Dropping the banana.) Ow! What the hell? GEORGE, What’ the matter, nigger Pete? 19PETE, Its dis black trash, new Mast Georges dey’s getting 0 numerous round and dis property needs clearin! When I gets time, Tim gonna have to kill some of em fo sure! GEORGE. But werent they all born on this estate? PETE. Dem trashy darkies? Born here? Wha@ On beautiful Tere- bonne?! Dont believe it, Mas George — dem black cings never was born at all; dey growed up one mornin’ frum da roots of a sassafas tue fin the swamy DIDO, (To Minne exiting) He do this every morning, Yul yt used to it. PETE. (After Dido.) Git out, you — Ya. yal (Minnie and Dora ok av each other.) DORA. (To Minnie.) Well, don’t just stand there. Fan me. GEORGE. Hz ha ha — How I enjoy the folksy ways ofthe niggers down here, All the ones I've ever known were either filthy ape-like Afticans of Patis or the flashy uppity darkies of New York. Here, though, che negro race is so quaint and vibrant and colorful much like the landscape, And so full of wisdom and cheer and tall tales. I should write a book. Why, Pete was telling me a wonder‘ul folktale, have you heard it? Ie about a rabbit who wants to put on aashow for the rest of the animals in the — DORA. (Griefsiricken,) George, I don't understand how you can be appreciating the folksy wisdom of the niggers with your dear auntin the condition she is in! Why, she’s nearly paralyzed with grief. GEORGE. Yes, yes, Miss Sunnyside. I'm sorry. You're right. x's juse that, in che few days since I've arrived from my beloved Paris, iy senses have been so overstimulated by all che raw beauty of everything here, the wildness, the very essence of life — I can barely stay focused on the matters before me — DORA. (Swept up, fir.) Dear George, what poctry you seem to have always at your disposal. When you speak, you sound just Like your dear dead uncle — capable of such (Butchering the French.) Joie de viore amid this gloom. If you weren't as handsome and finely~ built as you are, [say you were his very ghost — his living ghost (To Minnie.) What are you doing? Stop fanning me! GEORGE. Well, I must admit my artistic inclinations have probably rewarded me certain sensitivities DORA. Ab yes — From what I understand, you were living asan artiste en Pari. Ouais? (Thinking she’s saying something else.) Voo 2ay 200 poo chezamaymuvab? 20 slants GEORGE. Ub ... well my late uncle did very generously fund my studies abroad in che fine arts, I thought I would make a living as a photographer, but I realize now it was probably to more than a pipe dream — DORA. Hush. I'm sure that was no time wasted. For Id love co have my photograph taken with your apparatus. GEORGE, ‘That could be arranged. You know, I have brought my camera with me. I've been trying to make some improvements on it, you see — T've invented a kind of self-developing liquid which, ‘when applied to the photographic plates — DORA. Oh boy stuff, boy stuff — George, you are such a breath of fresh ait! If only you had arrived here some years before your tuncle died — things mighe bave turned out differendly! You might have foiled Mr. M'Closky’s knavery GEORGE. Who is this M’Closky everyone speaks of with such disdain? DORA. Ob, goodness, you do have much to lear. Thank God youve found me. M’Closky was your uncle's overseer before he died and is the man you have to thank for your family’s misfortune. GEORGE, How so? DORA. Well, your dear uncle — rest his soul — was bad with his ‘money —but if he thoughthe knew gambling, that snake M’Closky certainly knew icberter, and, by the end of eight years, card game by card game and piece by piece, Jacob M'Closky has crafily found himself proprietor ofthe richest half of this esate. Now, because of him, you and your poor aunt upstairs have come to the ground. GEORGE. But the other halfis free — DORA. Yes. And yours, eechnicaly, buc my daddy, Me, Sunnyside, thinks chat the property is so involved that che strictest finances will scarcely recover it. (Zoe is heard singing, beau.) GPORGE. (Rapt, Is that Zoe? DORA. Ugh, yes... (Noticing her runny makeup.) Oh, Pve made such a mess of myself. Will you give me a moment? (Touching up smuckeup, as Zoe continues singing.) Poor gicl doesn't know she's tone deaf ... (Notices George listening in reverie.) Do you like music? (Off George's nod, sultry.) 'Cause Tm a singer, too. (Beat, as Zoe finishes her song. Dora is confused and unimpresed by the effec t has ‘had on George.) was told that you were seen riding with Zoe around the sugar crop?GEORGE. Oh, she was showing me the property. What a brght thing she ist DORA. Yeah, I guess? Bur she need not keep us waiting for breaks, though. Pete, tell Miss Zoe that we are waiting. PETE, Yes, missus. (Screaming at Minnie.) Minnie! Why don't you run when you hear you lazy crittur? (Minnie exits with a roll of ber es. To George.) Dat’s de laziest nigger on dis yer property. Donlt do nuffin (Pete sts down on a bucket and immediately falls asleep.) DORA. That Zoe has been so spoiled by your aunt and uncle. GEORGE, I've noticed all the neighbors teat her with condescension... DORA. (Gosiy,) Dont you know that she is the navural daugater of your uncle, and your aunt just adored anything her husband cated for; and this bastard gie, that another woman woulda hated, she loves as if shed been her own child ... and not a bastard. Zoe has had the education of a lady. I wonder what will become of her when Mrs. Peyton is gone ... (Beat,) In any case, George, you should have called on me, darling, if you wanted an escort about the property. [live just over that mountain there. (Shaking her ing finger in his face.) | know this place like the back of my pretty ily: ‘white hand. Our families have been historically quite close, you know. (Zoe enters, fram the house.) ZOB. Am Tate? DORA. (Rolling her eyes.) Yes. Breakfast is waiting. ZOE. Not if Old Pete is asleep — (Kicks Pete.) Wake up you, silly nigger! Where's breakfast? (Pete wakes with a start just as Dido enters with coffee po, dishes, et.,crosing into the dining room. She and Pere make a big show out of attending to George, the new master.) DIDO. Here it be, Missey Zoe. Dere’s a dish of hoecakes — jess taste, Mast George — and here’ fried bananas; jess smell ‘em — PETE, Hole yer tongue! Minnie, whar's de coffee?! (Minnie erters with the coffee.) MINNIE. He'ah, Mast Geo— PETE. (Snatches the cofftepot from Minnie.) Shut up! (Pours ceffée ‘for George.) Dat tight! Black as a nigger ... You may drink dat, ‘Mas’ George. (George drinks it, loves it.) GEORGE, Mmm! DIDO. ‘his-a-way, Mas George — GEORGE. (Offering bis arms,) Ladies? DORA. Oh, none for me — I never eat. You go on ahead, Geo-ge. 2 Zoe and I need a word. (Minnie and Dido and Pete and George exit into the dining room. Dora snatches a hoccake off of Dido’ plate and eats is over the following.) 1 Bind George so sweet. Is he in love ‘with anybody? ZOE, How can I tell? DORA. Ask him, I wane 10 know: buc dont say I told you to. They say all che women in Paris were in love with him, which I fel I shall be, When he speaks ro one he does itso easy so gentle it ist barroom, sryle: love lined with drinks, sighs tinged with tobacco — (A cry is heard off, disturbing her reverie.) What is that? ZOE, Its Paul and his Indian companion. DORA. Ugh, why does Mrs. Peyton allow that picaninny to run all over these swamps instead of hoeing cane like a proper slave? ZOE. The child wasa favorite of my father's. Mas. Peyton couldait beat to see him put to work. (Enter Pau, being chased by M'Closky, whois trailed by Wabnotee) MCLOSKY. ‘See here, you imp! IF [catch you and your redskin oaching in my swamps again, Till cur me a switch and cane the eee PAUL, You cane me, Mast Clostry, but I guess you take a berry long stick to Wahnotee; he make bacon of you. M'CLOSRY, Make bacon of me — You callin’ me a pig? (MClosky grabs hold of Paul and seizes his whip. Walnotee grabs M'Closky’ ‘arm, forcing him to drop she whip. M’Closky pulls out bis knife. Ie scary for a second) ZOE. Oh, sit! Don't, pray, dost MCLOSKY. (Hearing Zoe, putting away his knife.) Darn you, red- skin, Tl pay you off some day, both of ye! DORA. That Indian isa nuisance. Why don't he recurn to his nation ‘out west? MICLOSKY. He's oo fond of thieving and whiskey. ZOE. Dontt speak ill of poor Wahnotee! He is a gentle creature and remains here because he loves that boy. When Paul was taken down with the fever, the Indian sat outside the hut and neither ate, slept, nor spoke till the child could call him to his bedside. He who can love so well is honest. DORA. Whatever. (To Wabnotee.) Go — back — to — your people! WAHNOTEE. Sleugh? 2Bsuit aie PAUL. He don't understand; he speaks a mash-up of Indian, French, and Mexican. Wabnotee patina na sepau assa wigirant WAHNOTEE, Weal Omence, PAUL. Says he'll go if Ill go with him. He calls me Omenee, the igeon, and Miss Zoe is Minemoosha, the Sweetheart. WAHNOTEE, (Pointing to Zoe, obviously in love, to.) Ninemcosha. PAUL. Where is Masir George? We'e goin’ hunting! DORA. (Aside ro Zoe.) Zoe, George can't gos T want him to stay and make love to me — that's what I came for! ZOE. Paul, Mrs. Peyton is expecting a very important letter. Before you hune with Masi Peyton, you must run over to the Janding; the steamer from New Orleans passed up the river last night, and if there's any mail they have thrown it ashore. PAUL. ButT'maffaid to take Wahnotee tothe shed! There’ rum there! WAHNOTEE. Rum? ZOE. Away with you, Paul, Bring the mailbag here PAUL. Come, then, butif I éatch you drinkin’, ob, laws-a-massey, Tl gib icyou! Now mind. (Pasi exits with Wahnotee.) M'CLOSKY, I'm here to see Mrs, Peyton. Where is she? DORA. Mrs, Peyton is feeling a bic under the weather, but her nephew, Mr. Peyton, is newly arrived from Pars, if you'd like to see him. MCLOSKY. “This aint a social call. I bring Mrs. Peyton news; her Jace husband's banker from New Orleans is deads the executors are winding up his afairs and have foreclosed om all overdue mortgages, so Terrebonne is for sale. Heres the paper with the advertisement. (M Closky presents she newspaper) ZOE. Terrebonne for sale! DORA. Terrebonne for sale?! And you, sis, will doubtless try to no law agin my bidding for it — ZOE. Wait! There is hope yet! Mrs. Peyton was just telling me that the house of Mason Brothers in Liverpool filed some twenty years ago in my father’s debt. They owed him over 50,000 dollars. She has not found the entry in his accounts, but you two could doubles help find it. Why, with principal and interest, this debt has been more than doubled in twenty years! Mrs. Peyton received a notice two months ago that che firm has recovered itself and thar some funds might be anticipated, Il go find his secretary. (Zoe exis into the bows.) 24 M'CLOSKY. They don't expect 10 recover any of this old debt in time, do they? It may be years yet before it will be paid off, if ever! DORA. Well, if chere's a chance of it, there's not a planter round here who wouldn't loan the Peyions the money to keep their name and blood amongst us. Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to Mr. Peyton, the new master of this estate. (Dora exits into the house, haughtily,) M'CLOSKY. Curse these old families — a snooty lot of dricd-up aristocracy. Just because my grandfather wasn't some broken-down Virginia émigré or a stingy old Creole, I aint fic co sit down to the same meat with them. It makes my blood so hot I hear my heare hiss! And the presence of these Peytons keeps alive the accusation against me chat I ruined them. If Pm ever to clear my name, I must ‘sweep them from this section of the country. Yet, if this moncy should come! Bah! There's no chance of it. And if they go, they'll take Zoe — she'll follow them. Dama chat girs she makes me quiver when I think of her. (Zoe enters from the house with the secretary.) ZOE. (Puating the secretary down.) Here ate the papers and accounts Where did Dora —? MICLOSKY. Stop, Zoe; come here! How would you like to nule the hhouse ofthe richest planter in Atchapalaga, ch? Or say the word and Tilbuy this old place, and you shall be mistress of Terebonne, ZOE. Oh, sis, do not speak so to me! MCLOSKY. Why not! Look here, chese Peytons are broke; leave “emand jine me; I'm rich and I'll sec you up grand, and we'll see these families and their white skins shrivel up with haces what dye say? ZOE, Let me pass! Oh, pray, ler me go! M'CLOSKY. What, you wont, wont ye? Come, Zoe, don't be a fook I'd marry you if I could, bur you know I can‘, 9 just say what you want, Pll put back these Peytons in ‘Terrebonne, and they shall know you done it; yes, they'll have you to thank for saving them from ruin. ZOE. Let me pass! (Dora reensers, calling for Zoe.) DORA. Zoe! (Beat, as she senses something wrong.) Zoe, you ate needed inside. Mrs. Peyton calls for you. (Zoe exits. Dora gives MCloskya suspicious once-oer before eiing.) M'CLOSKY. Fair or foul, Pl have her! (Opens seeretary.) What's here — judgments? Yes, plenty of ’em; bills, accounts with the bank — what's this? “Judgment, 40,000 dollars,” surely, that is the mortgage under which this estate is now advertised for sale — 25(Takes up paper, examines it) Yes, “Thibodeaux against Peyton, 1838.” Hold on! (Takes up anovher paper, reads) “The free papers of my daughter Zoe, February 4th, 1841.” Why, Peyton, wasn't you smart enough ¢© know thar while a judgmene stood against you it was alien on your slaves? Zoe isthe child you had with your {quadroon slave, and you didn't free her before the judgment! this isso, she's mine! Though this old Mason Brothers debt — that may cross me— if it only arrive too late — Hold on! This leter the old lady expects — that must be ic ec me only head off chat letter and ‘Terrebonne will be sold before they can save it. That boy and the Indian have gone down to the landing for the post-bags;they'l idle con the way as usual; my horse will take me across the swamp, and before they can reach che shed, I'll have snatched up them bags — Ha, hat (Calls off) Pete, you old tarkey-buzzard, saddle my are, IFT sink every dollar 'm worth in her purchase, ['l ow that octoroon! (M Closky stands with his hand extended towards the howe. Music. An attempt at a tableau. He holds the tableau for a while before Dido walks in with a washing bucket and some lauadry.) DIDO, (Realizing she’s walked in on something.) Oops! MICLOSKY. (Siariled,) Wha-ab-ahh?! DIDO, (Also startled.) Lav, Masit M’Closky, Tse sarry. Woo, lawd. (Beat, smiling.) Is you gonna be out here for a wl MCLOSKY, Ob, no. Twas just about to leave. DIDO. Okay... MICLOSKY. (Starting to exit.) Uh, and would you mind aking this secretary back inside when you get a moment? DIDO, Yassuh. (MClosky looks at Dido for a second, as if trying to remember something, but gives up — fiacaled as he is— and he exits Afiera second, Minnie enters looking for somebody.) MINNIE. (Seeing Dido.) Girl, have you seen Solon today? DIDO. No, why? MINNIE. I just remembad chat nigga owes me four pieces of ‘wine and some pig guts DIDO. Girl, you know you aint never gonna see that twine and them pig guts again, for real MINNIE. What you mean? DIDO. Minnie, you know Solon a trick-ass nigga. Remember what happened to Rebecca. MINNIE. Wait. Lightskinned Rebecca? DIDO. Yeah. 26 MINNIE. What Solon do to her? DIDO, Well, she had a baby MINNIE. She did? DIDO. Yes, girl And this one time, Solon was like, “Gid, let me borrow your baby for a second?” And so Rebecca damb ass like ‘gave him the baby and then that nigga curne around and fucking sold the baby, MINNIE, What? DIDO. Yes, girl. Apparently Mast was about to sell Solon and Grace's baby, bur then Solon switched Rebeccas baby out for they baby at the lase minute and Mas¥ didn't know the difference so he just sold Rebeceas dumb-ass’s baby. MINNIE. Oh my God, That is so messed up. DIDO. But then Rebecca gor sold, too, so. MINNIE. She did? DIDO. Yes, girl, Two weeks ago. They tryin’a keep it on the DL, though, because they not tryin’a let folks know they broke. MINNIE. No wonder [aint scen her dumb-ass around. (Beas, then suddenly angry.) Ub ub! Ain't no way Pmma let Solon cheat me out of my pig guts like that! (Shouting.) Solon! (Minnie exits angriby Looking for Solon. M Closky reenters, stalks over to Dido.) DIDO. Hi, Mast M’Cl— (04° Closky strikes ber violently.) M'CLOSKY. And donit you ever fuckin’ sneak up on me like that again, you nigger bitch! (An actual tableau.) End of Act OneACT TWO ‘The wharf. A camera on a stand. George, Dora, Zae, and Paul discovered. Dora is posing for George, who is arranging his photographic apparatus, Paul looks on, hidden from the others by bis mailbags. At some point, Br'er Rabbit wanders shrough, wnseen. DORA. (Aside to Zoe.) Zoe, the more I see of George Peyton the better [like him; but he is too modest — that isa very unattractive ZOE. T'm no judge. DORA. Of course not, you lee fook no one ever made love co you. GEORGE. Juse turn your face a litle this way — I's been awhile since I've done a portrait. Look here, DORA. (Angling her head.) Like so? GEORGE, ‘That's right. Now don't move. DORA. (Aside to Zoe.) 1 mean, doesn't George know Tam an heiress? My fortune would release this estate from debt. ZOE. Oh! GEORGE. Okay, I've got four plates ready; in case we miss the first shot. P've prepared chem with the instantly self-developing liquid I invented. Now fix yourself. Are you ready? DORA. Ready! (Dora poses in a completely unsustainable way.) GEORGE. One, two, three. (George takes out his watch. Ezeryone Jeezes awkwardly. It's quiet except for a gull or two, Br'er Rabbit wanders in again, pauses, noticing the audience from afer, and wanders back out. Meanwhile, Dora's smile and pose melt into something so Irideous it’s hard to look at. It goes on for a while and then it’s over. George thows down the apron.) Okay, thats enough. PAUL. Why she looked like she was having a tooth pulled: ZOE. (Sees Paul.) What are you doing there, you rascal! Ain't you took them bags to the house yet? PAUL. Tm gwine! I only come back to find Wabnotce. I lost him! (To George.) Say, Mas's George, take me in dat apparatus? You got four of dem dishes ready. 28, GEORGE. Get out, you cub! Do as Miss Zoe says PAUL. Gosh, wouldnt! like to hab my likeness took’ (Exits, running.) GEORGE, Well, chat has come out... clear, ain't it? (Shows Dora she plate.) DORA. Oh, beautiful! Look, Zoe. Don't you think lovely gife for a... certain gentleman? ‘ZOE. (Looking — it won't) Yes GEORGE. Will you ladies excuse me fora moment? (George exits.) DORA. (Looking at the photograph.) like this part — ZOE. Were you saying something? DORA, Oh, right If George would only propose to marry me I would accept him, bur he don't know that, and he will go on procrastinating in his slow European way, until it is too late! ZOE. What's to be done? DORA. You tell him. ZOE. What DORA, Tease him about his shyness — I'm sure its plain enough, for he has barely spoken two words to me since breakfast, then joke round the subject, before speaking our. (Pete enters, puffing.) PETE. Masi George! Mas George! DORA, Whar are you blowing about like a steamboat for? PETE. You blow, Missus Dora, when Tole you: Deres a man from ‘Noo Aleens just arrvd at de house, and he's seuck up two papers on de gates dat say: “For sale— dis yer property,” — an’ after he shown some other papers to Ole Missus Peyton, she burst our crying —den yelled — den de chorus of little niggers, dey set up hollerin — den de livestock reared up and — den de hull plantation — (Enter George, bustoning up his pants) GEORGE. Pete, what’ che matter? DORA. Youare needed at the house. The sheriff has taken possession of Terrebonne! ZOE. Pete, did you pass Paul wich the lecer-bag as you came here? PETE. No, miss; bur dat vagabond nebber take the straight road, he goes by de swamp. (Pete exits) GEORGE. Come, ladies I'll escort you back! DORA. Actually, George, you escort Zoe here. Ill run ahead with Peve since I'm so good at receiving comp'ny. You and Zoe have some business to discuss, uh, regarding the estate. (To Zoe, aside.) Now's your time. (Dora exit. George and Zoe are alone.) will make 29GEORGE. (Seeing Zoe.) Poor child! She must be so sad now, thinking she'll have nowhere to go. ZOE. (Glancing at Georg.) Poor fellow, he is posed to lose everything. GEORGE. Zoe, with our ruin, you might be lefe without a home. ZOE. Oh, no; think of yourself GEORGE. Ian think of nothing bue the image that remains fice to face with me; so beautiful that I dare not express the feelings that have grown up so rapidly in my heart. ZOE. (Aside.) He means Dora. GEORGE. If I dared to speak! ZOE. That's just what you must do, and do it at once, or iewill be too late. GEORGE. Has my love been divined? ZOB. It has been more than suspected, GEORGE. Zoe, iscen to me, then. I shall see this estate pass from me without a sigh, for it possesses no charm for me: the only estate I value is the heart of one true woman, and the slaves I'd have are her thoughes, ZOE. (Truly swept up.) George, your words take my breath away! GEORGE. Zoc, your mizror must have told you that you are beautiful. Is your heart fee? ‘ZOE. (Confsed.) Pree? Of course its — GEORGE. We have known each other but a few days, bus to me those days have been worth all the rest of my life. Zoe, you have suspected the fecling thar now commands expression — you have seen that I love you. ZOE. Me! You love me? GEORGE. As your husband — under the shelter of yout love —I could watch the storms of fortune pass by without a care — ZOE, My love! (Realizing, recoiling.) My love? George, you know not what you say! You? My ... husband? Do you know whet I am? GEORGE. [know you areillegicimate, but love knows no prejudice. Has not my dear aunt forgotten it — she who had the most right to remember it? ZOR. (Aside) Alas! He does not know! And will despise — spur, me when he learns who, what, he has so loved. (Aloud,) George, oh, forgive me! Yes, I love you — I did not know it undil your words showed me what has been in my heart and now I know how unhappy — hove very unhappy Tam. GEORGE. Zoe, what have I said to wound you? 30 ZOE. Nothing; but you must leam what I thought you already know. George, you cannot marry me; the laws forbid ie! GEORGE. Forbid it? ‘ZOE. There isa gulf between us, as wide as your love —as deep as tny despair; but, oh, say you will pity me! That you will not throw me from you like a poisonous thing! GEORGE. Zoe, explain yourself — your language fils me with fear. ZOE. George, do you see that hand you hold? Leak at chese fingers; do you see the nails are ofa... bluish tinge? GEORGE. Yes, near the quick there is a faine blue mark ZOE. Look in my eyes; is not the same color in the whice? GEORGE. Itis their beauty. ZOE, No! That — that is the dark, fatal mazk of Cain. OF the blood that feeds my heart, one drop in eight is black — bright red as the rest may be, that one drop poisons all the rest; those seven bright drops give me love like yours — hope like yours — ambition like yours — passions hung from life like dewdzops on moming fowers; bur the one black drop gives me despair for Pim an unclean, thing — I'm an occoroon! GEORGE. Zoe, this knowledge brings no zevole to my heart, 1 love you nonetheless, We can leave this country, and go far away ‘where none can know. ZOE. And your aunt, she who from infancy created me with such fondness, she who, as you said, has most reason to spun me, can she forget what I am? Will she gladly sce you wedded to the child of her husbands slave? No! She would revole from it as all but you would! GEORGE. Zoc, must we immolate our lives on their prejudice? ZOE, Yes, ford rather be black than ungrateful Bear.) Ah, George, sy race has at least one virtue — it knows how to suffer GEORGE. Each word you utter makes my love sink deeper into ay heart. ‘ZOE. And I remained here to induce you to offer that heart co Dora! GEORGE. If you bid me do so I will obcy you— ZOE, But no, no! If you cannot be mine — Oh, let me nor blush when I think of you! (Exits, running.) GEORGE. Dearest Zoe! (George exits after her. Beat, before Brier Rabbit wanders in again, pauses, notices the audience, and seems 10 inspect i for a bit before exising, MClosky enters) 31MCLOSKY. I arsived just too late, the boy had grabbec chose railbags just as I came up. But he-yo! He's coming this way, fighting with his Injun. The devil keeps him here to tempt me! (f‘Closky conceals hiaself just as Paul enters, urestling with Wabnote,) PAUL. Iain’ 0 use now: You got dae boctle of rum hid under your blanket — gib ic up now — Yar! (Wrenches it fom him.) You nastys Iying Injun! Irs no use you pretending to be sober; [aint gwine to sit up Wid you all nighe and you drunk, Hey, war's ebrybody gone? Dars de ‘paratus! Oh, gosh, if T could take a likeness! Lets have a peep. (Looks at Walmotcethrewgh camera.) Oh, golly, Wabnotee! [ee ‘you! (Washnoee springs back with an expression of alarm.) ‘WAHINOTEE. No tue Wabnotee! PAUL. Ha, hal Ieainit gun, you ign’ant Injunt Te can‘t hurt yo Stop, here's em dishes — plates — dar’s what he call ‘em, all seen Mas George do it — tink T can tae likeness — WAHNOTEE. No, carabine tue! PAUL. I muse operate and take my own likeness too —how debbel 1 do dat? Carit be ober dar an’ here too —T ain't ewins. Ach! You look, you Wahnotee: you sce dis rag heah? Well when I say go, den life dis rag like dis, see! Den run to dat pine cree up dar and back Vin, and den pull down de rag so, d'ye se? WAHNOTEE. (Reluctant,) Hugh! PAUL. Den you hab glass ob rum. WAHNOTEE. Rum?! Firewater?! PAUL. Dat wakes him up. (Throws mailéags dou, sits on them.) Pret? Now — go. (Wahnozee raies the aprom and runs off) De time he gone just "bout enough to cook dat dish place. (Paul sss for his picture. MClasky appears) MM'CLOSKY. Where are they? Ah, yonder goes the Indian! And yonder is the boy — now is my time! Whar’ he doing: skepin’? (Advances,) Hci sisting on my prize! (Noticing the tomahawk.) But the Indian’ left his tomahawk! Dl clear that boy off of there — Helll never know what stunned him. (MCiasky takes Wainotee’s tomahawk and steal to Paul, PAUL. (Through a frozen smile) Is dat the dam Injun creeping das? Teanft move or I'll spile myself. (M'Clasky sires Paul on the head. Paul falls dead. During the following, a large poo! of blood begins to «gather around Paul’ head aid M'Closky’ fet) M'CLOSKY. The bags are mine! (Opens the mailbags.) What's here? Sunnyside, Poinedexter, Peyton; here it is — Mason Brothers, 32 sure enough! — (Opens letter, reads, morionless) “Madam, we are instructed by the firm of ... the balance will be paid in full, with interest... You may command immediate use of the whole amount ac once if required.” This awful let would have saved alll Buc now 1 gues it will arrive too late — (Hearing Wabnotee approach.) The Injun! He must not see me. (M Clasky exits rapidly as Wahmotee runs ‘on.and pull: down the apron ofthe camera. He sees Pau, lying on the ground, speaks to him, thinks he isshamming sleep. He gestculates and jabbers, goes to him, moves him with feet, then kneels down to rouse hia, To his horror, Walmotee finds him dead. expreses great grief, His 96 fall upon the camera. He rises with a savage growl, be seizes the toraahawk and smashes camera to pieces, then goes to Paud, expreses grief sorrow, and fondnes. Maybe he starts to make a grave — sobbing ‘and digging with bis hands? I don't know. In any ease, here a table Br'er Rabbit may wander through t. Or not.) End of Act Two 33ACT THREE An interior ofthe Peyton borne. Dido and Minnie are decovered. Pete wanders in and out dropping off chairs, which Dido and Minnie set up. They are silent for a while, befor MINNIE. Gie, is ie just me or has ic been really quiet? DIDO. You know, Iwas just thinkin’ the same thing, MINNIE. Right? (Beat, as ehey work.) Even all chese white people are being really quiet. T wonder what’ going on today. I couldn't read that sign out front, because I cant read. DIDO. [cant read it, either, You know it’ illegal for us co read. MINNIE. Yeeuh, but I was hopin’ you wuz one of them secret readin’ niggas. You know like Rhonda. DIDO. Rhonda can read”! MINNIE, Shh, giell I’s 2 secret. (Beut,) They didn't tell you why. they got us settin’ up all them chairs? DIDO. Naw, but I'm assuming it must be a party. MINNIE. Oooh, girl! You know I love a white people party. (Does 1 litele dance.) Where the likka at, where the likka at — where the Tikka likcka lik like / Lkkka at — DIDO. Minnie! ‘MINNIE. You know they get too drunk to notice! DIDO. (A little harsh.) Can you stop actin’ fieldhand fer like a minute? You work in the house now! You gotta behave yo'slf! (Off” Minnie’s reaction.) Um only telling you this for your own good. I don want you to get hurt. You see what happened to Two-fingered ‘Tommy when he got caught stealing from the pantry: Now he only. got one finger. MINNIE, ‘Speaking of, you seen Tommy yet? He was supposed to bring up the milk this morning, DIDO. No, but I ain't seen Priscilla, neither, with che linens MINNIE. Well {saw Prisclla’s drunk ass last night. She probably Ihungover. She is such a mess. DIDO. Where you see her? 34 MINNIE. She came by the servants’ quarters lastnight for a drink and to say goodbye — DIDO. Say goodbye for what? MINNIE. I don't know. Maybe she gor sold? DIDO. They don't let you say goodbye when you get sold! MINNIE. ‘Then maybe she takin’ a tip? I don't know. DIDO. Arti w where, Minniei! Slaves don't take tripst (They boos realize something's wrong. Beat, before they both exit quickly. Pere wanders in with more chairs, as George and Lafouche enter. Lafouche seeps scratching at his face.) LAFOUCHE. Annoyed, T rouse say that, in my fifteen years of ‘experience as an auctioneer, this is by the far the most poorly organized estate I have ever come across — GEORGE. Well, respectilly, sx, P've only been here abour a week. (Beat, watches Lafouche seratch,) Um. Ate you okay? LAFOUCHE. Hm? GEORGE. [notice you keep scracching your fac. LAFOUCHE. I hitched a ride here from New Orleans in an ‘uncovered wagon and so I'm sunburned. Leave me alone. What is this one name scratched on the lst of slaves heze? Number 49, Paul, ‘a quadroon boy? A runaway; I assume? There's been an epidemic. PETE, Excuse me, sar; but aint no nigger ebber cut stick on ‘Terrebonne; dat boy's dead, for sure. LAFOUCHE. Oh, was that che name of that poor litle darky ‘who was killed by that redskin? ‘Ihae steamboat captain outside was just telling me he’s got a set of deckhands that just loved that child and that if chey ever see that Wahnotee fella, they'll Lynch his ‘Copper carcass on sight. GEORGE. What is Captain Rats doing here? He's going to invest in swamps? LAFOUCHE. Nos hes here to buy a nigger. (Pete perks up.) GEORGE. Hush. PETE. Eh! Wass dat? GEORGE. Mr. Lafouche —- maybe Mr. Ratts wants showing around the property. You're familiar enough with the place? Maybe ‘we can convince him to invest in swamps. LAFOUCHE. Certainly. (Exit Lafowche.) PETE. (Aside,) He said “I want a nigger” Laws-a-mussey! What am goin’ to cum ob us! GEORGE. Pete! Oh, 35ache NOMA PETE. New Mast George, isit true? Are we to be sold? GEORGE. I'm going to say somethin’ to you that has been chokin? ime for some time, because there's no one else to tell and } know you'll excuse it because you're a nigger and don't fully understand complicated emotions — but my aunt! She's dying, Pete! She's dying! ‘And she just called me to her side, grabbed at my sleeves and screamed, “Oh, let all go, but save the niggers I speak not for my ‘own sake, but for the poor people here — these niggers, who have been born here, they will be sold, divided, and taken away! Heaven has denied me children — so all the strings of my heart have grown around and amongst them, like the roots of an old tree.” And, Pete, cant deny this poor old woman her dying wish. I know now what ought to do. I can’t marry Zoe, though I love her, but Miss Dora isin love with me and her forcune would redeem a good part of this ‘state, 50 I will sell myself, so that the slaves shall be protected! (Dora isscen, about to enter, but she freezes, overhearing the follwing, and ducks out with excitement.) If Miss Sunnyside will accep: me as Tam, Terrebonne shall be saved. PETE. (Touched by Geonget speech, No, new Mast George! Nooooooo! (Dora is beard singing offtag, the same song Zoe sang in the ist act, but horribly She enters from upstairs) GEORGE. Go, Fete! Go! You must go and tell the others! Pew exit.) DORA. Poor Mrs. Peyton, GEORGE. Miss Sunnyside — DORA. Yes? GEORGE. Uh, permit me wo speale DORA. Oh, dear. (Enter Zoe, who stops before she is seen.) GEORGE. (Awkwardly, reluctantly.) In a word, 1 have seen and admired you! And, if you would pardon che abrupiness of the question, do you think the sincere devotion of my life to yours would succeed? DORA. (Aside,) He has the strangest way of making love. European Tsuppose GEORGE. You are silent? DORA. Mr. Peyton, I presume you have hesitated to make chis avowal because you feared, in the present condition of affais here, your object might be misconstrued, and that your attention was rather to my fortune than to myself. (Beat, no reponse.) mean, you feared I might not give you credit for sincere and pure feelings. Well, you wrong me. I don't think you capable of anything else — 36 GEORGE. No, I hesitated because an attachment I had formed before I had the pleasure of seeing you had not altogether died ‘out. Beat.) DORA. One of those sirens of Paris, I presume. I shall endeavor not ‘so be jealous of the past. But now that vagrant love is — faded? — Is eno? GEORGE, Miss Sunnyside, I have not leamed to lie. DORA. Good gracious — who wants you to? GEORGE. Ido, but I cant, No, the love I speak oF is not what you stippose — It is a passion that has grown up here since I artiveds butit is hopeless and must perish DORA. Here?! Since you arrived? Impossible: you have seen no fone; whom can you mean ZOE. (Advancing.) Me. GEORGE. Zoc! DORA. You ZOE. Forgive him, Dora. You are right. He is incapable of any but sincere and pure feelings. You know you cant be jealous of a poor ‘creature like me. He loves me — but what of that? IFhe caught the fever, were stung by a snake, or possessed of any other poisonous or ‘unclean thing, you could pity, tend, and love him through i, and for your gentle care he would love you in return. Well, is he not ‘thus afflicted now? He loves an octoroon, GEORGE. Zoe, you break my heart! DORA. At college they said Iwas a fool. Pretty — very pretty! — but 2 fool. I'm afraid they must be right; am I missing something here? I dont get a word of all eis ZOE. Dear Dora, try to understand ic with your heart. You love ‘George; I know i; and you deserve to be loved by him. And he will — he must. His love for me shall pass away. You heard him say it was hopeless. Oh, forgive him and me! DORA. (Weeping.) Ob, why did he speak to me at all then? You've made me cry and I hate you both! (Dora exits just as Lafeucke enters.) LAFOUCHE, Tim sorry to inte, bu the busines Tame upon will excuse me. ZOE. Pethaps I had berter go. LAFOUCHE. Well, as it concerns you, perhaps you better stay. GEORGE. Concems Zoe? LAFOUCHE. The list of your slaves is incomplete, sir — Ie ‘wants one, 37GEORGE. ‘The boy Paul — we know ie. LAFOUCHE. No, sis, you have omitted the octoroon giel, Zoe. GEORGE. Zoe?! ZOE, Me! LAFOUCHE. (Showing papers to Zoe.) Pardon me, maam, but do you know these papers? ZOE. Yes, they are my free papers; but chey were in. my father’s secretary, How came they in your possession? LAFOUCHE. Mr. M'Closky found them, ‘ZOE. Found them? He purloined chem! LAFOUCHE. Ar the time Mr, Peyton executed those free papers to his infant slave, a judgment stood recorded againse hinrs while that was on record he had no right to do away with his property “That judgmenc stil exists. Under ic and others this estate is sold today. Those free papers aren't worth the ink that’s on “em. GEORGE. Zoe a slave! Ie is impossible! My uncle was negligent and doubtless forgot this small formality. Bur surely the ceditors vill not claim the gal? LAEOUCHE. One of the principal mortgages has made the demand, ZOE. M'Closky! GEORGE, Ie cannot bet It shall not bet LAFOUCHE, It must be. The proceeds of this sale must cover the debts of the estate. Excuse me. (Lafouche exits.) GEORGE. Damn those Mason Brothers, why couldn't they send something by the last mail? Even a letter, promising something! Zoe, they shall not take you from us while I live! ‘ZOE. Donicbea fool; M’Closky would kill you, and then tike me, GEORGE. Stop you, if not the estate. ZOE. Not after we've confessed ro her that we love cach other — GEORGE. Right! Why did we do that?! ‘ZOE, Because it was the truth, and I had rather be a slave with a fice soul than remain free with a slavish, deceitful heart GEORGE. Zoe! ZOE. Do not weep, dear George. Be a man. You now see what a miserable thing I am, Leave me now. I would be alone a lite: while. (George exits, weeping) A slavel A slave! Is this a dream —for my brain reels with the blow? Sold! And M’Closky, my master — oh! ‘Dora Sunnyside! She'll buy you; that'll save 38 (Falls on ber knees, face in her hands.) No — no master but one. George — George — So like my father! My dear, dear father! Have I slept upon the benefits I received, and never saw, never felt, never knew that I was ungrateful? Let me be sold then, that I may fice your name and give you back the liberty you bestowed upon se; for I can never repay the love you bore your poor octoroon child. Forgive her. You made her life too happy, and now these ‘eats will flow. Let me bide them til I teach my heart. Oh, my — ‘my heart! — Hush — they come for me! Save me! No — (Looks off towards a commotion.) "Vis Pete and the servants — they come this way. (Zoe exits with a low, wailing, suffocating cr, just as Pete, Minnie, Dido, and pregnant Grace enter.) PETE. Cum yer now! Stand round! I've got to talk vo you house darkies — Grace, you might as well hear dis, oo. MINNIE. Pete— PETE. Don't make no noise, de sick missus har us! My colored ladies, dar’s mighty bad news gone round — ‘MINNIE. Pee — PETE, Shuc up! Dis yer propity to be sold — old Terrebonne —~ swhar we all been raised — dey’s gine to take ic away — DIDO. But Pete— PETE. Hold quict, you trash o° niggers! And dis ain’ all. Now listen — we tought dat de niggers would always belong to de ole ‘missus, and if she lose Terrebonne, we must live dere and simply hire ourselves out so we could bring our wages to her — MINNIE. Seriously, Pete PETE, Husht Buc tell ye, taint so — we've got to be sold — DIDO, (To Minnie.) That's what's going on. PETE, Will you hush?! Now, I listen dar jess now to Mast George — You shoulda seen dem big tears in his eyes. He say de ‘missus say, “Taint for de land I keer, but for dem poor niggers — doyll be sold” “Bur no,” says he. “Td rather sell myself fast; de niggers, dry shantt suffer.” (Getting emotional.) Yes, for you. for me, dem white folks cried. Dey cried! Fo’ us! Fo’ us sorry, no good nothing niggers. Now, | say, as dar ole man was always so good t0 tus and dat ole woman — for de pride of de family, let every datky do his best for dey sake — so dem strangers from Nawleens shall say, “Dem’s happy darkies, dem’s a Gne set of niggers!” and they'll buy us right up! And everyone say, when he’s sold, “Lor’ bless dis 39‘ | yer family I'm gwine out of, and pray send me to as good a home!” (Beat. The women all look at each other. Minnie tries to start a sow clap.) GRACE. Whatthe hells wrong witchu?! Donityou know everybody done run aviay?! PETE. WHAT! DIDO. ‘Thae’s what we been tryin’a tell yo’ black ass for the last PETE. What you mean they done run away? Why didn't somebody tell me? MINNIE. Ain't nobody told us, neithes, nigga! Obviously PETE, But Grace — you still here —-I thought you wuz head of the Runaway Plannin’ Committee with Solon. GRACE, Iwas. PETE, Well, what happened? GRACE. I overslept, nigga. Shit. Mind yo" own business. PETE. Aw, dis is da worst! Dis is da worst! (To Grace) How did this happen? GRACE. Eber since sweet litele Paul was kilt, folks fggubtd things ‘was taking a turn for da worse, so Solon thought ie was time to take off while all chese white people wur distracced with they personal financial drama. PETE, Laws-a-mussey! Get out of my way! I need to go tela white ‘man what's going on! (Pete exits, running. Beat, during which the women look at each other.) MINNIE. Wel, at least this explains what all them pecple was doing walking around. DIDO. You overslepr? | GRACE. Yes, bitch. I'm pregnant, I'm allowed to overslegp some- times. Shit. DIDO. Okay, where did the atticude just come from? MINNIE. Solon couldn’ wake you up? (Beat. Grace stants erying sofily. Minnie goes to comfort her.) Oh, gitl, what's wrong? GRACE. I think Solon left me. MINNIE. Whazaaat? GRACE. I think he ran off wir dumb-ass Rebecca MINNIE. Lightskinned Rebecca? GRACE. Yes. DIDO. I thought Rebecca got sold, GRACE, No. Rebecca baby got sold. 40 ee DIDO. No, I chought Rebecca gor sold last week to the Duponts. GRACE. No, gil, thae was Lucretia from the haylok. MINNIE. Lucretia gor sold?! GRACE, Yes. MINNIE. Damn. There are too many niggas coming and going ‘on around here — I can barely keep track. GRACE, Aint no need to kesp track no mo! MINNIE. Why no? DIDO. Because everybody except us ran away, stupid! MINNIE. Oh, yeah. GRACE. And now we're about to get sold! MINNIE. Ob, yeah! DIDO. This is about the worst damn day of my life It’s even worse than the fisse time I gor sold! MINNIE. Yeah, I didn't wake up thinkin’ this was where my day ‘was gonna go. I cant believe nobody told us they was running away. Why didn't they tell us, Grace? DIDO. Yeah. You would know. GRACE. You house niggas. DIDO. Whar GRACE. You house niggas. Yall was livin ic up in the damn house all the time, serving everybody pancakes and shie while we wu in the fields all day hocing cane and picking a fackeon of cocton in this hot- 388 sun, so we figured yall probably didn't need to run away, DIDO. Well you still coulda asked us. That would have been the polite thing to do ‘steada acting like a bunch of selfish fieldbands GRACE. And nobody likes yal! DIDO. Excuse me? GRACE, There, I said it. Everyone thinks you're a bitch, Dido. ‘And everyone finds the way you act kinda ghetto, Minnie. It's ‘embarrassing to the community. MINNIE. Whact! WHO GHETTO# (Minnie rusher at Grace. Grace rushes at Minnie.) DIDO. (Breaking it up.) Hey! Hey! HEY! MINNIE. She lucky she pregnant! DIDO, There no use fighting about it now! (The women cool off) GRACE. You right, You right. DIDO, So Solon took y'all baby, too? GRACE. What are you talking about? The baby is in my belly? MINNIE. No, gicl your other baby! aGRACE, (Genuinely upset.) Oh, shit, where is my other baby! (Grace exits, running.) MINNIE. Girl, what are we gonna do? DIDO, I don't know. I kind of liked it here. MINNIE. Me too. I feel bad for da Peytons. DIDO. Why? MINNIE. I dont know. They were some cool-ass white people. I ‘mean, they didn never ealy beat us, you know? It coulda beea worse. DIDO. Yeah. I heard on the M’Closky plantation they actualy, like, whips the slaves. Wich, like, a whip. MINNIE. Whaat DIDO. Tknow, right? MINNIE. Iam not tryin'a get bought by Mass M’Closky! DIDO. Well, I saw him in thee group of white men walking around inspecting things. MINNIE. Ob no! (Remembers something, whispering.) Wai, gill You know who else I saw in chat group? DIDO. Who? MINNIE. That fine-ass white man who own that steamboat, With the tan? I think his name is like Rat or sum'n, Ratts? Ratty? Rabbit? Ratiace? I dont know. We gotta get bought by hirn, girl! Inragine if we lived on a steamboat, coasting up and down the river, lookin’ fly, wind whipping at our hair and our slave tunics and shit,and we surrounded by all these fine, muscle-y boat niggas who ait been vwit a woman in years? DIDO. I don't know, Minnie, that sounds kinda dangerous MINNIE. Girl come on. You yourself said you was tired of in this damn swamp all the time, And I been on this plantation my entire life. 'm tired of ll this dirt and dust and nasty-ass table scrap food. Girl, don't you know on a boat they be eating fresh sh and skrimps and stuff? None of chese fattening pig guts. Come on, gil, this is our chance to see the world! DIDO, See the world? What world? MINNIE. Git, come on! I gotta ideal (Dido and Minnie ext and, «fer a beat, Ratt, the steamboat captain, enters from the audience aoking for special seating, on account af his obesity. Perhaps he picks a fight with ‘an audience member, whom he accuses of sitting in his seat. At some point, Lafouche has to enter and direct Ratts towards the row of eats ‘Dido and Minnic have just set up. George and M Closky, bath played by Uj. enter and join him. Time has pased and we are now atthe auction 2 There is either 1 or 99 people playing various bidders. Or maybe there's some clever way to force the audience into doing this. Really all we need sone person to play Captain Ratis. Bu I guess I worry about the whole thing becoming too Brechtian? Though, does is matter? Also, car I help it? Or maybe ir’ just whoever’s been playing music sbis whole time? Or maybe it} just me? Maybe Lsit in the audience of every show and play Rats. Or maybe it's Br er Rabbis? Lee’ just say its Brer Rabbit.) TAFOUCHE. Well, I guess this is everyone thar’s going to show 1up. Caprain Ratts, there's a seat down here in the front row, Donit be shy. (Ras sakes his seat.) Thank you, Captain. (Fast auction= speak.) Gentlemen, we shall proceed to business. Ic ain't necessary for me to dilate, describe, or enumerate; Terrebonne is known to ‘yous one of the richest bics of sile in Louisiana. So, gentlemen, as fife is short, we'll stare right off, Now, Imm proud to submit to you the finest loc of feldhands and house servants that was ever offered. Send in the niggers! (Pete, Grace, Minnie, and Dido all shuffle in sauhevardly, Petes grinning alos and wearing shackle for no real reason Minnie and Dido are wearing remarkably sexier and more revealing slave sunics and have their hair and makeup done-up accordingly. They ‘por Rats and mathe a lot of suggestive faces an gestires his direction. Lafouche is confused.) Where are the rest of the niggers? (Pete and George share a look before George. embarrassed, rushes up to whisper someibing into Lafouche’s ear.) Whate! What do you mean they've all run away? RATTS. Whav? PETE, (Clearing his chroat, gesruring to the four of ther.) Ab-ah. ahem. Hello? RATTS. Now wait a minute — Why did you all remain? MINNIE. Nobody told us. (Lafouche bangs she gavel) LAPOUCHE. Listen, we're going to proceed because I've got two ‘mote auctions today and I have to be back to New Orleans by five, so let’ start with ... (Going through his notes.) Number ... (Giving up) Pete, a house servant. PETE, Dats me — yer, I'm comin’ — sand around dar. (Pete tumbles upon the table.) LAROUCHE. Aged... seventy ... nwo? PETE, Fo'ty-six sar LAFOUCHE. And lame. PETE, But dat don’t mean nuthin’! Look ye here! (Pete starts to sing a very unimpresive, folksir version of whatever song Zoe and aee Dora sang earlier, before he gives up.) You know what? I'm tired of being a slave. LAROUCHE. Whaet PETE. Poych! (Addressing the crowd.) What do you say gentlemen? Shall we scart che bidding aca mil LAFOUCHE. (Annoyed, stopping him.) One bundred dollars! Do Thear one hundred dollars? GEORGE. One hundred. PETE. Mast George — ah, no, sar — don't buy me ‘money for some other that isto be sold! LAFOUCHE. One hundred bid — it's2 good price. He's yeurs, Mr George Peyton. (To Dido.) Okay. Whats your name, lite wench? DIDO. Dido. LAFOUCHE. Well start with Dido. MINNIE. Wait Actually ... (Minnie goes over and whispers some- ‘thing in Lafouche's ear.) LAEOUCHE. (To George, incredulous.) The property is requesting thar it be sold along with another piece of propercy? (Off George shrug, with a sigh.) You know whae? This isa shitshow. Let's just get this over with. (Back out.) So, Dido here will be sold along with...? MINNIE. Minerva. Minnie. LAFOUCHE. With Minerva. (Minnie and Dido mount table and sort of stare at Rats a lot, who seems to respond? Over the following, they somebow manage to seduce Rats into buying them, It werks.) MINNIE. Haaaaaaaaazay. LAFOUCHE. Shall we stare the bidding at one thousand for the pair? One thousand, Can I get fifteen hundred? Fifteen, ‘Two thousand? Two thousand, to Captain Ratts. Can I get three thousand? ‘Three thousand? Three thousand to you, Mr. M'Closky. RATTS. Come on now! I really need some niggers! Please let me get what I came here for! Five thousand! LAROUCHE. Five thousand bid from Caprain Rants, Six? Si? Do I hear six? No, Five thousand bid from Captain Ratts. Going, going, gone. They're yours. MINNIE. Yaaaaaaay! (Minnie and Dido dismount and go over to stand behind Ratts) LAFOUCHE. What a steal. Next up is .. a pregnant female fcld- hand ... with other child. A fertile bargain. ‘Three for the price of one. (Grace gets on the table holding her baby, which i, idealb, a white baby ins blackface.) keep your 44 GRACE. (To Rarts.) Buy me, Mast Rats, do buy me, sar. RATTS. And what in thunder would I do with you and those devils on board my boat? GRACE. Wash, sar— cook, sar —anyt LAFOUCHE. Come now, captain. Dont separate this poor heifer from her litde niglets RATTS. (With a sigh.) Fine. Bight hundred. LAFOUCHE, Eight hundred. Do Theard nine? Nine. Nine hundred %@ Mi. MClosky. One thousand. One thousand to Captain Rats. ‘Do I hear eleven? Eleven’ Eleven? Eleven to M’Closky. RATTS. I'm broke, dear—T'm sorry LAFOUCHE. all right: eleven hundred to M’Closky — going — going — sold! (Lafouche bangs his gavel.) MINNIE, (Trying so stare something.) Who ghetto now, bitch?! (Commotion. Lafouche bangs his gavel.) LAFOUCHE. Settle down! Settle down! (To George.) l guess on to the property — (Seeing Zoe hiding offtage,) Actually, wait, no, Lalmost forgot: the octoroon girl, Zoe! Thank God. (Zoe enters, very pale, and stands on table — hitherto M Closky has taken no real interest in the sale, now perks up,) GEORGE, (Rising.) Gentlemen, we are all acquainted with the circumstances of Miss Zoe's position, and I feel sure that no one here will oppose the family which desires to redeera the child of your sstecmed and noble friend and my uncle, the late Judge Peyton, RATS. Here, here! LAFOUCHE. While che proceeds of this sale obviously promises ‘0 realize far, fr less than the debts upon it, it is my duty to prevent any collusion for the depreciation of the property. What is offered Foe Zoe? . ae GEORGE. One thousand dollars. MICLOSKY, Two thousand. GEORGE. Three thousand MCLOSKY. Five chousand, GEORGE, Demon! Seven! M'CLOSKY, Eight GEORGE. Nine. MCLOSKY, Ten. Ie’ no use, squire. RATS. Jacob M’Closky, you shan't have that girl. Now, take care ‘what you do. Twelve thousand. MCLOSKY. Shant I! Fifteen thousand, Beat that any of ye. 4LAFOUCHE. Fifteen thousand bid for the octoroon. (Enter Dora.) DORA. Twenty thousand! MICLOSKY. Twenty-five thousand. GEORGE. Yelping hound — take that. (George rushes M'Clasky/ Bimself who draws his knife. They scuffle elaborately — the actor Eserally wrestling with himself. The crowd reacts accordingly — the melee going on for a long while, until George manages te disarm ‘M 'Closky and seems prepared to cut his throat.) E LAROUCHE. Hold on — stand back. (Beat, as George Closky | disengage, exhausted. To George.) This is your own house and we are | under your uncle's roof, but recollect yourself. And ain't we forgetting there’ a lady present? (The knives disappear.) If we carit behave like Christians, let’ try and act like gentlemen, I believe none of us have ‘wo feelings about the conduct of this man; but he has the law on his, side — We may regret it, but we must respect it. Mr. M’Closky has bid twenty-five thousand dollars for the octoroon. Is there axy other id? For the frst time, twency-five thousand — last time (Brings gavel down,) To Jacob M’Closkss the octoroon girl, Zoe, eweney-five thousand dollars. (Mf Closky jumaps om upon his char, throws maney in the air, and makes it rain — perhaps literally, perhaps figuratively. The theaare isa space of infinite possibility. Tableau.) End of Act Three iL 46 ACT FOUR The empty, unfortunate-looking theatre, again. BI] and Playwright step forward from she tableau and darkness fll. Eventually the are joined by Assistant, who is busy dealing with the actors onstage, leaning up, checking his email, ec BJJ. So] think I fucked up. I had chis really amazing concept for ‘how chis would all work wich my limiced resources and then, PLAYWRIGHT. I grossly underestimated the amount of white men I actually would need here — BJ). Especially in chis act — Act Four — PLAYWRIGHT. Which is actually the most importane of all the acts in a melodrama. JJ. Act Four s the act which usually follows the Act Three “climax,” which you just saw. PLAYWRIGHT. ‘The fourth act sort of makes or breaks a show. BJ. Ies sort of the spine of the whole drama — PLAYWRIGHT. ‘The hinge around which everything turns — BBJJ. Nor just in terms of the narrative but also just in terms of the sheer “theatre” of a piece. You have a lot of stuff to do and it’s really hard. PLAYWRIGHT. Not only do you have to get the A plot — BYJ. In this case, che story of Zoe and the estate — PLAYWRIGHT. To intersect with the B plot — BIJ. In this case, the murder of Paul — PLAYWRIGHT. Buc its your last chance to really hit the audience ‘with someching big — BJ). Like your best “theatre trick,” ifyou wal. PLAYWRIGHT. You have to push everything — actors, props, set, light — to the limit somehow. BJ. They used to call it the “Sensation Scene” — PLAYWRIGHT. Because the idea is to overwhelin your audience's senses, to the end of building the truest illusion of realy’ BJ. Regardless of whether or nor it has anything to do with the plot. aPLAYWRIGHT. Youre just supposed to make people think, for just a second, that what they're seeing is real and dangerous and sott of novel BJ). Ob, and also, more often than nor, Act Four is where the like moral of the play lives — PLAYWRIGHT. Which is why I needed mote white guys — BJ. Because wee going to talk about universal themes — PLAYWRIGHT. (Brendishing the gavel.) Like justice! BIJ. And not “social issues.” PLAYWRIGHT. You basicaly sort of give your audience the moral, then you overwhelm them with fake destruction. BIJ. Or someching. Ie just so hard. So I'm just going to tell you whac happens, so we can keep going. I hope thas okay. PLAYWRIGHT. Basically, ie later thac night, and we're at the wharf, where we find Captain Ratts and his people like loading up the ship. BJJ._A bunch of other white guys are there — PLAYWRIGHT. Including George and Pete, who've just dropped off theis last load of corton ever, I guess, and then M'Closky enters and he’ like, For no reason, except for exposition and to bean asshole: MCLOSKY. You've gor coo much cotton onboard — it can berely stay above the water level —and there's a senal freight of turpentine in the forehold there, and one of the barrels leaks; a spark from your ‘engines might sec the ship on fre, and you'll go with it PLAYWRIGHT. Then suddenly there’ all this commotion! BJ. And everyone's all, PLAYWRIGHT. “Whats going on?” BIJ. And somebody's like, PLAYWRIGHT. “We found the Injun! We found Wahnotee, the murders Ler lynch him for killing shat Fete niggerboy who ised to sing for us” BJJ. And Wahnotee lumbers on, being chased by a bunch of peoole, and everyone’ about to like jump on him and fuck him up — PLAYWRIGHT. But George is all: GEORGE. Hold on! No violence — the critter don't know what ‘we mean! PLAYWRIGHT. But M'Closky, the real murderer, is al, MCLOSKY. Let him answer for the boy chen. Down with him — lynch him! And the crowed’ like, (No one saye anyshing for second, Bi and Playwright look at Asiseans expectanthy) 48 ASSISTANT. “Lynch him!” PLAYWRIGHT. And George’ like: GEORGE, Stan’ back, I say! I'll nip the first that lays a finger on. him— BYJ._ And they're basically al like, PLAYWRIGHT. “Bur he led the le dive boy who used to sing and dance for us!” And George’ like, GEORGE. [just donic think he killed Paull It doesnt make any sense! BJ. And then someone's like, PLAYWRIGHT. “Well we think he did kill him, so let's give him a trial like right now, since we've all gor like fifteen minutes before we have to go—" BJJ._ And someone’ like, : ASSISTANT. “Who will be the accuser?” BIJ. And everyone’ like, ASSISTANT. “M’Closky!” M°CLOSKY. Wait, why me? ASSISTANT. And they're like, PLAYWRIGHT, “Because you were the one who was just shouting, to lynch him — MECLOSKY. Fine. know then tha the boy was ile with that tomahawk — the redskin owns it — the signs of violence are all round the shed — ain‘ ie clear that in drunken fit he slew the boy and concealed the body yonder? PLAYWRIGHT. And the crowd’ all, ASSISTANT. “Yeah! Yeah!” And then someon: PLAYWRIGHT. “Who will defend the Indian’ ASSISTANT. And George’ lil GEORGE. I will, for ici against my nature to believe him guile, and if he be, this isnt the place, nor you the authority, © try him. 1 appeal against your usurped authority; this [yachaw isa wild and. lawless proceeding, You cal yourselves jadges — You aren't — Youre a jury of executioners! Yonder, a poor, ignorant savage, and round him a cite of hearts, white with hate, thirstng for his blood: Icis stich scenes as these that bring disgrace upon our Western life. M'CLOSKY. Evidence! Give us evidence! We've had talk enough; now for proof. GEORGE. he proofis here, in my heart. PETE. Stop, sar! Oh, laws-a-mussey — like, 9BJJ. Ob right, aso, like, randomly someone has brought on the ‘camera that Wahnotee smashed after he found Paul dead — PLAYWRIGHT. ‘The same camera M’Closky stood in front of reading that lercer — BIJ. — And randomly, I guess, George never looked in the camera or forgot about the camera? This is actually 2 hole in Boucicaulrs plot. Not mine. PLAYWRIGHT. Anyway, Pet’ like: PETE. See dis! Here's a piceur’| found stickin’ in that yar telescope ‘machine, sat! Look, sar! GEORGE. A photographic plate. What's cis, ch? Two forms! The child — she! Dead — and above him — Ah! Aht Jacob M'Closiy, ‘vas you murdered chac— (Breaking character, becoming BIJ.) BJ). Wait, hold on, can we actually... (Assimtant neds and ex.) PLAYWRIGHT. You know, ics really hard to describe how this scene works — BJJ. Because it actually would have heen really exciting 150 years ago — having someone caught by a photograph PLAYWRIGHT. They were a very novel thing — BJ. Which is why this whole plot is more or less centered around a camera, But photographs to us? Boring. Its cliché, but we've gotten s0 used to photos and photographic images that we've basically learned how to fake them, so the kind of justice around which this whole things hangs is actually aliede dated PLAYWRIGHT. But part ofthe tril, part of the “Sensation” of the scene, was giving people back then a sense of having really witnessed something new and novel. BIJ. And that’s basically impossible for us to do nove Ifanything, the theatre is no longer a place of novelty. The fat is we can mote or les experience anything nowadays. Sothink the final fontie, awkwardly enough, is probably just an actual experience of finality, I think, PLAYWRIGHT, Like — death, basically? BJ. So for a while I was thinking maybe I could actually just set this place on fite with you inside — PLAYWRIGHT. Bring you as close ro death as possible .., That would be amazing ... BIJ. And then, of course, rescue each of you one by one — PLAYWRIGHT. And then perform the rest of te show out on 3c street, BIJ. Bur that would be crazy. 50 PLAYWRIGHT. And also I would only be able to do this show fice BYJ. I choughe about actually just sacrificing an animal onstage — PLAYWRIGHT. Like in che good old days — A goat or some- thing — BJ. Bu, there ae lavsapuinss chat, ands ike, goats have nothing co do with — BLAVWRIGHT And you dvi haves peingzo0— BJJ. Anyway, I figured Pd try something. I hope it isn’t too dlnppoizing (Asitent has heed out en overhead projector. He projects « lynching photograph onto the back wall,) Where was — ‘okay, sorry, I lost my, a Tm going t0 go back: (They perform the lowing in the light af the projection. GeoRef wil fa is against my nature to believe him guilty; and if he be, this ist the place, nor you the authority, co try him. 1 appeal against your usurped authority: this lynch-law is a wild and laveless proceeding. You call yourselves judges — you aren't —~ youre a jury of executioners. Yonder, @ poos, ignorant savage, and round him 2 circle of hearts, white with hate, thirsting for his blood. It is such scenes as these that bring disgrace upon our Western life. MICLOSKY. Evidence! Give us evidence. We've had talk enough; now for proof, GEORGE. The proof is here, in my heart ee PETE. Stop, sar! Oh, laws-a-mussey, sec dis! Here’ a pictur’ 1 found stickin’ in that yar telescope machine, sart Look, sat! BIJ. Tear see anvting Tm sorry — Can we turn this off (The icture disappears GEORGE. A phowgraphic plae. Whats this ch? To forms! The child —"tishe! Dead— and above him — Ah! Ah! Jacob M’Closky, ‘ewas you murdered that boy! MTCLOSKY. Me? GEORGE. You! You slew him with that tomahawk; and as you stood over his body with the letter in your hand, you thought that no witness the decd tha no ee was on you~ bu hee Was Jacob M'Closly, there was. The cye of the Bternal was on you — the Beal sus in esens ay, looking down, struck upon this plate the image of the deed. MCLOSKY. Tis false! : GEORGE. "Tis true! The apparatus cant lie. Look there, jurymen. Oh, you wanted evidence — you called for proof — Heaven has answered and convicted you. You wanted to make us murder cha 511 1 ee cs cea Injinn; but since we've got our hands in for justice, well ry it on you, Shall we have one law for the redskin and another for the White? Jacob, your accuser is that picture of the crime lee thee speak — defend yourselé. PLAYWRIGHT. And M’Closky pulls out a knife, MCLOSKY. 1 will, quicker than lightning! PLAYWRIGHT. And someone is lke, “Seize him!" And all these sat tush on M Closky and take away his knife and then George is like, GEORGE, Srop! Search him — we may find more evidence ASSISTANT. “Here a leter!” GEORGE. (Opening she lever.) Whats here? “To Mrs. Peyton. Hellol Tve gor a hold of the til of a rat. (Read) What’ this a daft for 85.000 dollars, and credie for the balance? You lilled che boy to steal cis leer from the mailbags — that the money should ot arrive in time; had it done so, che lien on the estate would hone ceased, and Zoe be free. ASSISTANT. AAnd everyone’ like, (eeryone includes eveyone on and coffiiage.) EVERYONE. (A loud, harsh, clear whisper) Lynch him! GEORGE. Silence in the court: Stand back, let the gentlemen of the jury consule and ceturn their verdict. PETE, (Showing Wabnotee the photo.) See, Tnjun; look dar — Yous innocent — dar’ de murderer of poor Paul WAHNOTEE, Ugh! PETE, Closly tue Paul — kill de child with your tomahawk dar ‘svastit you, no — Poor Injun lub our litle Paul. (Wabnovce vies and looks at ME Clash.) GEORGE, What say ye, ge not guil ASSISTANT. And everyone’ like, EVERYONE. (A loud, harsh, clear whisper) Guiley! Lynch him GEORGE, And what is co be his punishment? EVERYONE. (A loud, harsh, cleer whisper.) Death) Lynch hi! WAHNOTEE. (Crosing 2o M'Closy.) Ught PETE, Youltea dead man, Mas Closly — you gor to blieve dat. MCCLOSKY, No — not You are a white man; you'll not leave one of your own blood to be butchered by the redskin? If must die for what I have done, give me up to the law but save me from che tomahawk. Let me be tied! ontlemen? Is the prisoner guilty, oris he 52 eS

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