THEY SHALL
NOT DIE
A play by JOHN WEXLEY
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THEY SHALL NOT DIE
THEY SHALL
NOT DIE
A PLAY BY
John Wexley
NEW YORK
ALFRED • A - KNOPF
1934
Copyright 1934 by John Wexley
This play in its printed form is designed for the reading public
only. All dramatic rights in it are fully protected by copyrights,
in both the United States and Great Britain, and no public or pri-
vate performance— professional or amateur— may be given without
the written permission of the producers and the payment of roy-
alty. As the courts have also ruled that the public reading of a play
for pay or where tickets have been sold constitutes a performance,
no such reading may be given except under the conditions above
mentioned. Anyone disregarding the author's rights renders him-
self liable to prosecution. Communications should be sent to
Maxim Lieber, 545 Fifth Ave., New York City.
FIRST EDITION
Manufactured in the United States of America
^v*
9
To
my Mother and Father
and to my wife
Katherine
THEY SHALL NOT DIE was produced by The Theatre
Guild at the Royale Theatre, New York, on Wednes-
day evening, February 21, 1934. The production was
directed by Philip Moeller. The settings were designed
by Lee Simonson.
CAST
(In Order of Appearance)
Played by WILLIAM LYNN
Deputies
COOLEY
HENDERSON
RED
ST. LOUIS KID
BLACKIE
DEPUTY-SHERIFF TRENT
JEFF VIVIAN
LEWIS COLLINS
JACKSON
CHARLEY
HILLARY
SMITH
WALTER COLTON
VIRGINIA ROSS
LUCY WELLS
LUTHER MASON
BENSON ALLEN
ROBERTS
PURCELL
WALTERS
WARNER
HEYWOOD PARSONS
ROY WOOD
ANDY WOOD
MORRIS
MOORE
JOHN L. KEARNEY
TOM EWELL
FRED HERRICK
FRANK WOODRUFF
RALPH THEADORE
RALPH SANFORD
BOB ROSS
C. ELLSWORTH SMITH
GEORGE C. MANTELL
DEREK TRENT
HUGH RENNIE
WILLIAM NORTON
LINDA WATKINS
RUTH GORDON
HALE NORCROSS
L. M. HURDLE
GEORGE R. HAYES
ALFRED BROWN
BRYANT HALL
GRAFTON TREW
AL STOKES
ALLAN VAUGHAN
JOSEPH SCOTT
JOSEPH SMALLS
FRANK WILSON
KILLIAN
OLIVER TULLEY
DOCTOR THOMAS
CAPTAIN KENNEDY
SERGEANT OGDEN
MRS. WELLS
TOMMY
YOUNG MAN
RUSSELL EV>*T
GUARD
PRINCIPAL KEEPER
LOWERY
WILLIAM TREADWELL
REV. WENDALL JACKSON
WARDEN JEFFRIES
ROKOFF
CHENEY
2ND GUARD
MRS. PARSONS
MR. PARSONS
MRS. WOOD
MRS. PURCELL
MR. PURCELL
MRS. WILLIAMS
NELSON
CONSTABLE
NATHAN G. RUBIN
JOHNNY
MR. HARRISON
FRANK TRAVERS
JUDGE
DOCTOR WATSON
ATTORNEY-GENERAL
DADE
JURY COMMISSIONER
CROCKER
CLERK OF COURT
Played
by EDDIE HODGE
" ROBERT THOMSEN
" GEORGE CHRISTIE
" FREDERICK PERSSON
ROSS FORRESTER
" HELEN WESTLEY
EDWARD RYAN, JR.
TOM EWELL
DEAN JAGGER
" JAMES YOUNG
" CHARLES HENDERSON
CARROLL ASHBURN
BRANDON PETERS
" FRED MILLER
LEO CURLEY
LOUIS JOHN LATZER
ST. CLAIR BAYFIELD
" ROBERT PORTERFIELD
TEDDY BROWNE
K. BROWNE COOKE
GEORGIA BURKE
" CECIL SCOTT
ROBERT J. LAWRENCE
CATHERINE FRANCIS
ERSKINE SANFORD
" ALBERT WEST
CLAUDE RAINS
HUGH RENNIE
FRANK WILSON
DOUGLAS GREGORY
" THURSTON HALL
ROBERT J. LAWRENCE
" BEN SMITH
RALPH SANFORD
" ALBERT WEST
SETH ROBBINS Played by HARRY HERMSEN
CIRCUIT SOLICITOR
SLADE " CARL ECKSTROM
Mob, Hoboes, Soldiers, Court Guards, Court Audience,
Jurymen, Reporters, Messenger Boys, etc. — Irene
Bevans, Orrin Burke, George A. Cameron, Angus
Duncan, Jack Flynn, Vallejo G u fl/i*, Marshall
Hale, Eddie Hodge, Alexander Jones, William H.
Malone, Edward Mann, George C. Mantell, Grace
Mills, Frank Phillips, Robert D. Phillips, Dorothy
E. Ryan, Phil S. Michaels, Jack Stone, Jerome Syl-
von, Ben Vivian, Charles Wellesley, John Wheeler,
Betty Oakwood, George Carroll, Phillip Carter.
PRODUCTION COMMITTEE:
THERESA HELBURN and LEE SIMONSON
STAGE MANAGER ADAMS RICE
ASSISTANT STAGE MANAGER NORRIS HOUGHTON
ASSISTANT STAGE MANAGER H. B. LUTZ
DESCRIPTION OF SCENES
ACT ONE
The jail in Cookesville. A Southern State.
ACT TWO
SCENE i: The home of Lucy Wells in Humbolt.
A few weeks later.
SCENE 2: The negro death-cell in Pembroke Pri-
son.
A few days later.
SCENE 3: The home of Lucy Wells in Humbolt.
Many months later.
ACT THREE
SCENE i : The offices of Nathan G. Rubin in New
York City.
A few weeks later.
3CENE 2: The court-room in Dexter.
Some weeks later.
THEY SHALL NOT DIE
ACT ONE
ACT ONE
SCENE: The county jail in Cookesville. For purposes of
description, I will divide the stage into three parts.
From stage right to stage left, they are:
PART ONE: The run-around and white prisoners' cage.
PART TWO: The office.
PART THREE: The "Pen" or large steel cell for "niggers."
All three parts face on the corridor, which lies between
the parts and the audience. This corridor contains in
its right wall: A heavy wooden door, leading to an out-
side staircase, down into the street. When this door is
open . . . it is possible to see the landing and its
wooden railing. Beyond this, a view of some house-
tops and a few blossoming trees in the distance.
PART ONE: A large enclosure with its audience-side con-
structed of light steel bars. This side contains in its
center: a steel door. The right wall of the enclosure
contains a small barred window. The left wall contains
a wooden door leading to PART TWO.
Constructed within this enclosure is a square, steel-mesh
cage, from floor to ceiling. This cage also contains a
door in its audience-side, almost in the center. The
inside cage leaves an alley or run-around between it
and the walls of the enclosure . . . running about
three feet in width all around. Inside the cage are three
3
4 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
prisoners: RED, BLACKIE, ST. LOUIS KID. They have for
their convenience . . . some straw mattresses.
PART TWO: The office, which also serves as a first-aid
room. Its right wall contains a door leading to PART
ONE. Its left wall: another steel door leading to PART
THREE. Its rear wall: a door leading to a hall and an
inside staircase that descends to the front lobby.
This room is the only part of the stage from which the
fourth wall has been removed. (I suggest that this be
indicated, and as a plaster wall.)
In the rear: an old dilapidated, chipped, white hospital
table and a medical cabinet with a large Red Cross on
it. Downstage: against the left wall, a roll-top desk
with an arm-chair facing it. Nearby two more chairs
and a stool. Opposite the desk: a battered water-cooler.
Over this attached to the wall: an electric fan. Over the
desk attached to the wall: a large wooden clock.
PART THREE: Similar to PART ONE, this section also has its
audience-side constructed of steel bars with a door
in its center. Within, scattered about the floor are six
or seven old, crumpled straw mattresses. In the right
wall: a heavy door leading to PART TWO. In the left
wall: a barred window similar to that of PART ONE.
This window faces West.
In PART TWO are seated two deputy sheriffs: WILLIE
COOLEY and HENDERSON. They converse as they lean
backwards on their chairs, spitting now and then at
the dirty cuspidor in front of the desk.
In the case in PART ONE the three prisoners now standing,
now sprawled on their mattresses, roll cigarettes,
ACT ONE 5
smoke, chew and indulge in desultory conversation.
Unless otherwise stated, all characters speak in the South-
ern fashion . . . the drawl, although some have vari-
ous dialects.
The time is afternoon, and through the west window,
stage left, the rays of the afternoon sun enter and fill
the "Pen" and corridor with a reddish glow. One re-
ceives the impression of a rather warm spring after-
noon, of flies buzzing about, of roaches and dirt, of
sloth and laziness.
COOLEY: Been seein' Sam Waldon lately?
HENDERSON: Saw him over yonder in Greensboro day fo'
yesterday.
COOLEY: Do he say he's comin' 'long next week to fair
day?
HENDERSON [spits]: He ain't comin'.
COOLEY [spits]: He ain't?
HENDERSON: No. He say he cain't afford the gasolene. An'
whut's mo', theah ain't no mo' fun at fair day anymo'.
Jest a bunch of heifers and hawgs and .
COOLEY: Sam's right. Cookesville fair ain't no mo' excitin'
nowadays than yo' homebrew. [He chuckles at his
joke.]
HENDERSON [spits]: I ben noticin' you guzzlin' my home-
brew, Willie Cooley. Whut's wrong with it now?
COOLEY [leans forward, with wagging forefinger]: Hops!
You be'n usin' co'n an' chicken-feed 'stead of hops.
That's why farmers like Sam Waldon cain't buy them-
selves no fuel. 'Cause fellers like you keep hoardin'
6 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
their money . . . 'stead o' spendin' it and makin' de-
cent brew. [Spits.]
HENDERSON: You jest plumb goofy, Willie Cooley. Sam
Waldon don't grow hops fo' the last ten year. He grow
cotton, only cotton. . . . [He continues to speak, but
lowers his voice and as a result we can hear the prison-
ers in the cage in PART ONE conversing. This occurs
many times during this act and the beginning of one
speech and the end of the previous one should be
blended together.]
RED: ... a coupla hunerd miles outa Jacksonville. He
send me down the road a bit an' he says, "You're a
trustee now, so doan't be runnin' 'way, 'cause yuh
ony got two mo' weeks. . . .
ST. LOUIS KID: Did you still have yo' chains on yuh?
RED: Course I didn't have 'em. Ain't I jest . . . ?
COOLEY: . . . an' Fletcher's done gone broke and Jason
Monroe's lost his pay over in Junction City. Yes suh!
Things ben pretty bad sence the war. . . .
HENDERSON [spits]: That all becose that President Wilson
done died . . . an' in come the Republicans. . . .
COOLEY: It ain't got nuthin' to do wid the Republi-
cans. . . .
RED: Yuh see, they take the chains off'n yuh an' let yuh
take a li'l walk down the road. But all the time, theah
is a coupla polices a-waitin' in the bushes right 'long-
side of yuh. An' jest yuh try to run fo' it. Hot damn!
That's jest what they're waitin' fo'. An' when they
catch yuh . . . yuh gets six months mo'. . . .
ACT ONE 7
HENDERSON: Well, that Yankee fish-face Coolidge didn't
help none. . . .
COOLEY: I'm tellin' yuh, theah ain't ben no badder
times. . . .
HENDERSON: It was a hell of a lot badder back in ninety-
three. .
RED: Same the way them trash gals carry on with them
niggers. Yes . . . even fo' a dollar a haid. . . .
COOLEY: The baddest times was right after the war down
heah, in sixty-five. . . .
HENDERSON: Them Yankees did their bestest to ruin
us. ...
BLACKIE: You kids dunno nuthin'. I seen niggers up in
Chicago eatin' in the same lunch wagon with white
folks ... an' in St. Paul, Minnesota, when I was
theah las' summer ... I saw coons goin' to the same
toilet as ...
COOLEY: Folks up No'th don't know how mean 'em nig-
gers kin be. . . .
RED: Trouble with them mill jobs, you have less after
yuh work than befo'. . . .
ST. LOUIS KID: No wonder 'em gals'll lay down with nig-
gers. They kin make mo' in five minutes than workin'
all night. . . .
RED: Sho'. Thas why. . . .
[Phone in office rings.]
COOLEY [answers it]: Hello. . . . Huh? . . . Sho'. This
is Cooley. Sheriff Trent? He over at the billiard par-
lor. . . . What da? Hmmm. [HENDERSON leans over
8 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
him, very curious.] How many? . . . Fifteen of 'em!
Hmmmmmm! Sho'. Sho'. . . . Rocky Point law?
. . . Fine. . . . Sho' . . . send 'em on heah. . . .
I'll tell him. . . . Good-bye. [Hangs up.]
HENDERSON: Who dat callin', Willie? Whut's up?
COOLEY [very excited. Crosses to cooler for a drink]: That
was the Stebbinsville law. Seems like a half a dozen
white kid hoboes was thrown off the freight from Chat-
tanoogie by some niggers . . . and they're stoppin'
the train at Rocky Point fo' 'em. [Crosses back to
phone] But I gotta git Sheriff Trent ... or we lose
our badges. . . .
HENDERSON [reflecting COOLEY'S excitement]: Anybody
killed?
COOLEY: Jest lemme call the Sheriff. . . . [About to
wind the crank on the phone box, but it rings before
he can do so. He picks up the receiver quickly] Who?
. . . Sheriff Trent? No he ain't heah. ... I was jest
'bout tuh call him. . . . Oh . . . howdy Fred. . . .
Yes. ... I was jest called from Stebbinsville 'bout it.
Yuh stopped it? ... Huh? . . . got 'em all? . . .
Huh? . . . Sho', we got plenty room. . . . What?
What da yuh say? . . . Women? Gals? Where? . . .
Hmmmmmmmmmm. An' a-comin' 'cross the Tennes-
see Line? . . . Sho'. ... I call him right now . . . .
[Hangs up.]
HENDERSON [clutches his sleeve as COOLEY commences to
wind the crank]: What's up . . . Willie Cooley? Come
on. . . .
COOLEY [very excited]: Let go my arm . . . Hender-
ACT ONE Q
son. . . . I gotta call Sheriff Trent this minute. [Winds
crank.] You better git our guns instead outa that cab-
inet. . . .
HENDERSON [burning with curiosity]: But yuh kin tell a
feller whut's it. ...
COOLEY [annoyed]: Git them guns . . . the trucks'll be
heah any secon'. [On phone.] Hello. . . . Louise . . .
git me Sheriff Trent, quick. He's over at the billiard
parlor. . . . Hurry up, gal. . . .
HENDERSON [at cabinet with guns]: Shall I load 'em . . . ?
COOLEY: Sho', load 'em! Whut are yuh gonna shoot with?
No, Louise. ... I cain't tell yuh nothin' . . . no,
it's again' the law. . . . Well . . . there's been a hull
to-do on the freight. . . . Hello, Sheriff Trent? Well,
all hell's done gone an' bust loose on the through
freight from Chattanoogie! Big fight, 'bout fifty or a
hunerd niggers . . . no, half dozen white kids got
themselves throwed off this side o' Stebbinsville. . . .
They're bein' sent on heah right now by truck. . . .
Then I'm jest 'bout tuh call yuh when the Rocky Point
law calls up ... an' they done stop the train at Rocky
Point . . . huh? Sho' . . . they got 'em all ... and
listen, Mist' Trent, they found two white gals on the
train dressed like boys, with overalls. . . . Well, they
musta crossed the line if they come from Tennessee
. . . they all comin' on heah to Cookesville. . . .
Sho', I'm gittin' ready now . . . huh. . . . No, they
didn't say whut the niggers done to 'em. . . . Mebbe
they did an' mebbe they didn't . . . huh? [To HENDER-
SON.] He hung up. . . . [Hangs up.]
10 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
HENDERSON [breathless]: Was theah fifty niggers . . .
Cooley?
COOLEY [taking a bite of his tobacco plug}: Uh huh.
HENDERSON: An' all comin' heah to Cookesville?
COOLEY: Sho'. Now we're gonna see some fun. [Straps on
his gun-belt, and pins his badge on.] But you better go
on down to the gun-room an' git some rifles to-gether
fo' Mist' Trent. Bet' hurry up . . . !
[HENDERSON exits. COOLEY winds up phone.]
RED: . . . My great grand-pap was one of the biggest
slave holders in Johnson County. He had hunerds of
niggers. . . .
COOLEY [on phone]: ... an' bring ovah heah with yuh
Hillary and Kenneth . . . Smith too. . . . Yes, bring
'em all ovah to be deputizded. . . . No. . . .
BLACKIE [as a few voices are heard outside]: Whut's goin'
on down theah?
RED [he and ST LOUIS climb up on mesh-work like cats,
the better to see out of window}: Coupla kids cuttin'
up, I speck.
COOLEY [on phone]: Yes . . . hurry up ... sho'.
ST. LOUIS: I cain't see nuthin'. . . .
VOICE [outside]: Co ... o ... ley!!
COOLEY [hangs up. Crosses to door rear. Shouts down]:
Yeah? Whut's up? Who theah?
VOICE [calling] : Jackson. Rocky Point truck comin' down
the road.
COOLEY: Go an' hurry up Mist' Trent.
JACKSON: Sheriff Trent's comin' 'long now 'cross the
street with Rob Smith. He say fo' yuh tuh git that cor-
ACT ONE 11
ridor open up. . . .
COOLEY: Okay! [He crosses to desk and gets the keys out.
HENDERSON enters with an armful of rifles.] Bring them
rifles downstairs, Henny. The boys'll be heah any sec'
fo' 'em. . . .
[HENDERSON exits. COOLEY crosses toward corridor. At this
moment, the sounds of a truck pulling up are heard.
Wheels crunching on gravel, brakes holding, voices
in greeting.]
RED: I kin make out the tops of their haids. . . .
COOLEY [passing near cage in PART ONE]: Git the hell
down from theah! Come on, git down. . . . [Crosses
to outside door and unlocks padlocks.]
VOICES [outside]:
Hi, theah, Hillary!
Whut's up heah?
We heerd of some rape.
Who raped 'em?
How many?
[COOLEY now has door unlocked and swings it open.]
VOICES [louder now]:
Where're the niggers, Fred?
They'll be along.
I'm gittin' my gun.
Where're them gals?
Whut's up, Jeff?
They musta near killed 'em.
Theah's be'n a rape.
A rape?
A rape!
12 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
A rape!
RED [back on cage, looking out]: Gittin' visitors, fellers.
COOLEY [seen outside on the landing, shouts down]: Hi
theah. . . . Sheriff Trent! All ready?
TRENT [from off-stage below]: Okay . . . Willie.
VOICES [with some hysteria]:
We wanna git fust chance at 'em black bastards.
Women ain't safe no mo'.
Gittin' worse an' worse wid 'em niggers.
TRENT: Git off that truck, Jeff Vivian. You're interferin'
in the law.
VIVIAN: I'm plenty bitter 'gainst 'em nigger rapers an'
my sentiments 'gainst any man who tries to de-
fend 'em.
[VOICES in approval]
HENDERSON: Here yo' rifles . . . boys.
[VOICES.]
TRENT: Git back theah . . . men. Come on. . . . Give
'em a chance tuh git off. Git. . . .
JACKSON: All off, boys.
VOICE: Whut happened on that theah train, fellers?
TRENT: Let 'em by, come on, one side. [The sound of
many steps coming up the outside staircase. The voices
in the street continue but decrease to hubbub of or-
dinary conversation. TRENT enters, followed by six
white BOYS and TWO DEPUTIES carrying rifles. At the
same time, HENDERSON and another DEPUTY enter office
from door, rear. They keep out a few of the curious
villagers who try to follow them in. Meanwhile TRENT
ACT ONE 13
and his party are in the corridor and COOLEY is about
to bolt the door but TRENT stops him.] Jest lock her up
once. There'll be some mo' in a coupla minutes.
Cooley, ring up Solicitor Mason . . . tell him to come
on over heah, right quick.
[COOLEY nods and does so.]
TRENT [to the deputies]: Git 'em in that cage theah.
[The deputies lock the new prisoners in the cage and
TRENT passes into the office. One DEPUTY remains sta-
tioned in the run-around. During this action one of
the new prisoners recognizes RED and greets him with
enthusiasm]
BOY: How yuh, Red boy! Whut yuh doin' heah?
[The others question and are questioned.]
TRENT [to the other DEPUTY as he passes him]: You stay
here, Charlie, doan't let them trash make too much
noise. [Enters office and fastens on his waist the hol-
ster and revolver that HENDERSON gives him. COOLEY
is on phone.]
COOLEY: Hello, Mrs. Mason . . . yes, Sheriff Trent
wants him right quick.
TRENT [to the DEPUTIES]: You Henderson, take those
men and watch for those other cars. [He exits]
COOLEY: . . . Yes, please ma'am. . . . [Turning to
TRENT.] Mrs. Mason says the solicitor's sleepin' on the
sun porch, and she don't feel like wakin' him, Sheriff
Trent.
TRENT [irritated]: What's that? Tell her . . . it's
important. Tell her to wake him up right away. [Breaks
14 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
gun and examines bullet chamber.]
COOLEY [on phone]: . . . Yes, ma'am . . . you'll just
have to. ...
TRENT [impatient]: Lemme talk tuh him, Willie. You
watch that corridor. [Takes receiver.] Hello. Luther?
[COOLEY crosses to run-around and chats with DEPUTY.]
. . . That you? . . . Come on over . . . we got
somethin' excitin'. . . . Well, git dressed. Sho'. Sho'.
[HENDERSON enters and stands, waiting, breathing hard.
TRENT hangs up and turns to him] Yeah, whut's up?
HENDERSON: I reckon yuh better come on down, Sheriff.
Walter Col ton jest drove in, and he says, there's an
awful flock of automobiles followin' the truck in.
TRENT [confused] : Where is the truck? Where is Walter?
HENDERSON: Right outside. [Crosses to rear door, calls]
Come on in, Walter.
[WALTER enters]
TRENT: What's up, Col ton?
WALTER: I jest wanna tell yuh, the truck'll be here in five
minutes easy. I'm purty scared o' troublevwith them nig-
gers, Sheriff. Jest figgered on warnin' yuh. The boys're
all talkin' of takin' the law over to themselves.
TRENT: Just let 'em try that. Where are the girls?
WALTER: We passed them down on Highway 74 jest a
minute ago. They right smart near 'bout now. . . .
[VOICES outside. Sound of truck and autos pulling up.
COOLEY and DEPUTY open door to corridor. TRENT hur-
ries across. Shouts back to HENDERSON.]
TRENT: Go on downstairs an' keep order in front. . . .
Watch the entrance. [He is now in corridor. HENDER-
ACT ONE 15
SON and WALTER exit.] Open up Cooley. Whut yuh
waitin' fo'?
[Everyone including the Sheriff is tremendously excited
with this sudden activity.]
COOLEY [swinging open the outside door]: Hi .
theah. . . . Theah they be ... Sheriff.
[Many voices outside. TRENT steps out on the landing]
TRENT [shouting down, topping the voices below]: Bring
'em upstairs . . . Hillary! No. Right this way! Whut's
the matter with yuh all today? Yuh all goin' crazy?
Hi theah, Jackson, pass out those rifles. . . . Whut's
the matter with you? Lemme know when the niggers
come. Lemme know when yuh see 'em down the road.
I don't want no trouble. [VOICES.] Remember,
folks . . . I'm the law heah in Cookesville ... an*
I'll 'rest any one of yuh who tries somethin' smart. . . .
[The two GIRLS are now seen on the landing. TRENT
leads them in, they are followed by HILLARY and
SMITH.] Okay . . . take 'em into the office. Hillary,
you bet' go down too. . . . Take Smith with
yuh. . . Watch these stairs heah. . . . [HILLARY and
SMITH exit and COOLEY proceeds to fasten door] Right
this way . . . gals.
[TRENT leads the way. GIRLS follow him. As they pass the
prisoners in the cage laugh and make remarks]
RED: Hi theah, Blondie . . . gonna keep us company?
TRENT [to RED]: Yuh bet' shet up in theah ... or I'll
take it out on yo' hide. . . . [They enter office,
COOLEY following] Set yourselves down theah, gals.
[The GIRLS do so] Now whut were you . . . ? [Phone
l6 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
rings.] Answer that Willie. [He does so.] Well . . .
who are you two . . . ? Whut's yer names? [To the
blonde one] Come on ... speak up.
VIRGINIA: We were jest havin' some fun, suh.
COOLEY [on phone, annoyed]: . . . Huh? . . . Sho'.
Everything all right. ... I don't know that, Emma.
TRENT: Doan't yuh know . . . yer breakin' the law,
ridin' on them trains?
COOLEY [on phone]: No . . . the niggers ain't heah
yet. . . .
TRENT: Why don't yuh answer me . . . ?
VIRGINIA: Well ... I cain't heah yuh . . . with all
this noise. . . . [Gestures toward phone]
TRENT [to COOLEY] : Come on Willie . . . stop that gab-
bin'. We got business heah. . . .
COOLEY [turns to TRENT, confused]: Whut's that? It's the
wife, Sheriff. She'll git through in a second. . . . [To
phone] Now listen here . . . Emma, what fo' yuh
callin' up ... when I'm so busy. . . . Huh? No
... I ain't gittin' fresh. . . . Huh? Well you tell
her she's gaffy. No niggers chewed nobody's breasts
off. . . . No. Good bye. No. Don't wait. [Hangs up]
Blame these heah wimmen . . . they allus call at the
wrong time.
TRENT [who has in the meantime opened a ledger, and
secured a pencil]: Yuh ain't answered me yet. Whut
were yuh doin' on that train?
VIRGINIA: We was jest try in' tuh git back tuh Humbolt
from Chattanoogie . . . where we went . . .
TRENT: What fo'?
ACT ONE 17
VIRGINIA: To look fo' a job ... an' after we ...
TRENT: Jest hoi' on. It 'pears tuh me that these heah
niggers musta fooled 'round with you gals. . . .
VIRGINIA: We never done nuthin' like that. . . .
TRENT: We'll find that out, soon 'miff. [Looks her over
carefully for an instant.]
[Rear door opens and MASON enters.] /
MASON: Hello, Trent.
TRENT: Well . . . you're certainly needed heah. Have
yuh heerd whut's up?
MASON: Well ... I heard quite a few things while I
was dressing. Mrs. Jenkins called my wife, then Mrs.
Cooley called and as I was leaving Mrs. Henderson
called.
TRENT: These are the gals they tuk off the train at Rocky
Point.
MASON: That so? [Crosses to them. Professionally]
What's your name? Your right name?
VIRGINIA: Virginia Ross.
MASON: And yours?
LUCY: Lucy Wells.
MASON: Where you from?
VIRGINIA: We're both from Humbolt.
MASON: What do you do there for a living?
VIRGINIA: We work in the Henrietta mills, spinnin' cot-
ton.
MASON: And what else?
VIRGINIA [snapping right back]: Nuthin' else if I know
whut yuh mean.
MASON: You know what I mean. . Now what were
l8 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
you doing on that train?
VIRGINIA: Jest ridin'.
MASON: What for? Where?
VIRGINIA: Well, we went to Chattanoogie to visit some
friends an' we didn't have no money tuh come on
back with. . . .
TRENT: I tho't you said you went lookin' fo' work.
VIRGINIA: Well ... I said that too. . .,
TRENT: I'll bet I know whut so't of work yuh looked fo'.
VIRGINIA: Now . . . don't yuh go insinuatin'. . . .
MASON: Whom did you girls leave Humbolt with?
LUCY: We went with . . .
VIRGINIA [quickly]: We didn't go with nobody. . . .
MASON [after a slight pause]: Well, girls . . . you know
that I can arrest you for being travelling prostitutes?
VIRGINIA [innocently]: What's that?
TRENT [snapping]: A whore. That's what.
VIRGINIA [indignantly]: Well ... I ain't that. . . .
MASON: Then what were you doing on that train with
those boys and crossin' a state line?
VIRGINIA: I never crossed no line.
MASON: You came from Tennessee into this state in vio-
lation of the law.
VIRGINIA: That don't give you the right tuh call me a
whore.
MASON: It gives me the right to arrest you for being one.
Now ... I can prosecute you under the law . . .
you and your boy friends. Understand?
VIRGINIA [somewhat frightened]: Yes suh, but we weren't
doin' nothin' atall. We were jest . . .
ACT ONE ig
TRENT [crosses to her]: Shut up. 'Cose every thin' yuh
say will be held against yuh. [Turns to COOLEY.] Wil-
lie, take them gals into the run-around. I'll call yuh
if I need yuh.
COOLEY [taking VIRGINIA'S arm]: Come along gal.
[They cross to exit]
VIRGINIA [as she follows LUCY out, haughtily]: Tryin' to
call us indecent . . . the low-down son-of-a . . .
[TRENT looks around at her but COOLEY closes the door.]
MASON: All right. What's on your mind Sheriff?
TRENT [with suppressed anger]: Plenty! Them tramp
whores have been crossin' the State line and doin'
business on that train with these white hoboes. . . .
MASON: And the niggers . . . ?
TRENT: The niggers?
MASON: Yes . . . ?
TRENT [with increasing anger]: . . . them black bas-
tards seen 'em gals and got themselves together, out-
populated an' beat up them hobo kids and threw 'em
off the train. Then the niggers jumped the gals
an' . . .
MASON [with a cautioning gesture]: Just hold on, Trent.
I want to get this straight. These heah girls don't look
to me like they've been attacked.
TRENT [with amazement and somewhat hurt]: Whut
yuh tryin' tuh say to me Luther . . . ?
MASON [firmly]: I'm trying to say this. . . . If these girls
had been assaulted against their will, they wouldn't be
acting the way they are. They would be crying all over
the place. They would be all hysterical and nervous.
20 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
Their clothes would be torn. . . .
TRENT [angered, annoyed] : You ain't sayin' Luther, that
them niggers were left alone with these white gals
and didn't try to . . . ?
MASON [interrupting with some scorn]: No! They didn't
need to try. These whores just took them on for what-
ever they could get. . . .
TRENT: Luther, you ain't goin' to let them black bas-
tards get away with somethin' like that?
MASON: No. . . . I'm not letting them get away. . . .
[He seems to be listening to TRENT only with one ear
and to be thinking of a plan of procedure]
TRENT [in a rage]: I don't keer if they are whores . . .
they're white women! You think I'm gonna let them
stinkin' nigger lice get away from me? Like hell I am!
They're gonna git whut's comin' to 'em long as I'm
the law round heah. . . . [He is at the height of his
temper and his feelings run away with him] What the
hell will folks heah say of us . . . ? Why they'll spit on
us if we don't git them niggers when we got the
chance. . . . The hull county, the hull State, the
hull South'll be down on our haids. . . .
MASON [after a slight pause]: Trent, I want to get these
girls examined by a doctor as soon as possible. . . .
TRENT [worried, and anxious]: You . . . you ain't fig-
gerin' on jest a plain, ordinary charge Luther . . . ?
MASON [shrewdly]: What are you figgerin' on, Sheriff?
TRENT [with intense hatred]: What I'm figgerin'? Them
black bastards had them white gals and theah's only
one charge fo' that . . . RAPE!
ACT ONE 21
MASON [with impatience now that they agree]: Well
then let's stop wasting time. . . .
TRENT [with elation]: Sho' . . . We kin send 'em over
tub Doc Thomas right now. . . .
MASON [making a wry face]: Oh . . . him?
TRENT. Who else?
MASON [sighs] : All right. . . .
TRENT [calls]: Cooley! [COOLEY enters] Git them gals
ready to go over tuh Doc Thomas and tell him to ex-
amine them. . .'v
COOLEY: Uh huh. [Nods and goes to run-around for girls]
RED [in the cage the prisoners have been conversing in
bantering tones with the girls]: Come heah Blondie.
I heerd a lot 'bout you in Chattanoogie.
VIRGINIA: Yuh ain't heerd nothin'. . . . Yuh cheesy-
faced, carrot-topped pimp. . . .
COOLEY: Pull yo' mouth in Red Boy. . . . Come on
gals. You're goin' tuh the Doctor's wid me. . . .
VIRGINIA [in the run-around she and LUCY whisper to-
gether as they make ready to go]: Yuh jest leave it
to me Lucy. Ain't I got us out of scrapes befo'?
LUCY [very frightened, almost on the point of tears]: I'm
so scared, Ginny. I'll lose my job sho' enough, if they
hear this goin's-on. . . .
COOLEY [opens door]: Come along, gals.
[They enter office]
RED [as they exit]: Don't forgit to come back Blondie,
we're gonna miss yuh.
VIRGINIA [snapping back at him]: Now yuh shet up that
mouth o' yourn. . . .
22 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
TRENT [to COOLEY] : Take Henderson along with yuh and
bring 'em right back when yuh git through. . . .
COOLEY: Yes suh, Sheriff. Come along gals.
TRENT: And keep a good hold on 'em.
LUCY [suddenly]: But Virginia, I don't wanna go to no
doctor. . . .
VIRGINIA: You let me handle this Lucy. [To MASON with
hauteur.] What does this mean, suh?
MASON [sitting on desk. Rises and unctuously]: Now just
control yourself Miss. We're trying to protect your
rights, that's all. You just go along quiet-like and let
the doctor examine you and we'll take care of you
after that. . . .
VIRGINIA [to MASON, smiles]: I'm talkin' fo' both of us
Mistah. Jest what is we bein' examined fo'?
MASON: Well, didn't these niggers attack and rape you?
VIRGINIA [puzzled] : Attacked? Raped us?
MASON: Yes. I heard they tore your dresses off and
jumped on you. . . .
VIRGINIA: Who? Them niggers? [Suddenly, sharply]
Now listen here Mistah, no nigger ever done that to
me. I'll have you know. . . .
TRENT [takes her arm and leads her firmly towards the
door] : Now hold on Miss Ross. Take 'em along Cooley.
[COOLEY and HENDERSON holding the girls, lead them
out]
VIRGINIA [as they exit]: Mrs. Ross. I'm a married woman.
[All exit.]
MASON: Mrs.? Well that's still better . . Sheriff.
ACT ONE 23
[Sound of truck outside, voices, shouts.]
HILLARY [as he hears the noise runs into office]: Mist'
Trent, that nigger truck's comin' 'long now. . . .
TRENT [rushes to corridor shouting]: Come along, Lu-
ther. . . . [MASON follows] Open up Hillary. [HIL-
LARY opens the outside door. TRENT and he step out
on landing. TRENT descends stairs, yelling. MASON re-
mains at doorway looking out and down.] Stand back
folks! Git back there! Hi' there Jackson! Hold 'em
back boys. I don't want no trouble at all.
VOICES:
Are the wimmin hurt bad Sheriff?
We oughta git the Klan together. . . .
Theah them nigger rapers goddam 'em. . . .
Jest thirty cents o' rope.
RED: There them niggers now. . . .
VOICES:
I seen 'em gals jest goin' with Willie Cooley.
You turn 'em niggers ovah to us, Trent. . . .
We know how to handle this. . . .
TRENT: Stay back folks! Don't lose yourself. Don't git
mixed up with the law. My boys 're gonna do their
duty. . . . Now git back. Git back!
VOICES:
Them niggers gonna git what's comin' to 'em.
You bet. . . .
A li'l necktie party, thassall.
HILLARY: Hoi' on there boys. Don't crowd the stairs. .. . .
TRENT [truck is heard stopping. Horn sounds and many
24 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
voices]: Give 'em a chance. Hoi' 'em back fellers! Git
off there niggers. Step down. Watch 'em there Hillary.
HILLARY: Git back. Git back! Hello there, Mr. Allen.
How you?
TRENT: Up this way. . . .
VIVIAN [his voice is heard]: You better be careful with
that theah gun Sheriff. You'll be pokin' the wrong
man.
TRENT: An' you better shet your mouth Jeff Vivian. You
ain't got no call around heah. . . .
VIVIAN: I'll stay where I damn well please. . . .
[Many voices in agreement]
TRENT: Git up there niggers! Git up them stairs befo'
they grab yuh. . . . [HILLARY and SMITH enter fol-
lowed by nine young negro BOYS tied together with
ropes and bringing up the rear shouting (Ad Lib) at
the crowd downstairs and at the negroes, SHERIFF
TRENT, JACKSON and two Rocky Point deputies . . .
ALLEN and KILLIAN.] Shut that door Hillary! Lock it
up good.
HILLARY: Yes suh. [Does so]
TRENT [points to negro cell]: Lock up these bitches in
theah. . . .
SMITH [attempts to open cell-door]: It's locked Sheriff.
TRENT: Well, open it.
SMITH: I ain't got the key suh.
TRENT [irritated, angry, confused] : Who got the key dam-
mit?
HILLARY: Cooley carries the keys Mist' Trent.
ACT ONE 25
TRENT: Well, run after him an' git them. Go 'haid, Smith.
[Mutters.] The goddam fool.
[SMITH exits.]
MASON: You might put the prisoners in the run-around in
the meantime, Trent. [Indicates]
TRENT [not understanding]: Huh?
RED [shouts in offended tone]: No yuh ain't. Yuh don't
put no niggers in with us. I'll complain to the gov-
ernor. . . .
TRENT [admonishing]: Cain't put 'em in theah, Luther.
Yuh oughta know better 'n that.
MASON: Well, I thought just temporarily . . . 'til Smith
gets back with the keys. [Looks into cage, counts the
occupants, ] Say . . . Where is that other boy, Allen?
I thought there were seven white boys.
ALLEN: Oh . . . he'll be 'long soon 'nuff with Deputy
Norris.
MASON: That so. I thought you had lost him already.
ALLEN: No, we didn't lose nobody. We surrounded that
theah train at the Point an' when she come in we
scraped her clean.
TRENT: Yuh kin take off them ropes in the meantime
Jackson.
[JACKSON does so]
MASON: Which car were the girls in?
ALLEN : They was in an open car full o' gravel.
MASON: And this other boy?
ALLEN: He was right nearby, a coupla cars off.
MASON: And the niggers heah?
26 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
ALLEN: They were all over the train. O' course theah
was plenty mo' but they musta got skeered after the
fight an' jumped off. One of 'em . . . this un heah,
was underneath 'bout ten cars off. [Indicates the vari-
ous negroes he means.] This un was in a cattle car
groanin' away. He says he's sick. . . .
MASON [to negro indicated]: Are you sick?
ROBERTS: Me, suh?
MASON: Yes, who do you think I'm talking to?
ROBERTS: Yassuh. I'm sick a plenty, please suh.
TRENT: What's the matter wih yuh? [Crosses to him]
ROBERTS: I dunno 'xac'ly, Mist' Sheriff. But it's some-
thin' mighty bad. That's whut the colored doctor over
in Atlanta said. . . .
TRENT: Where did yuh throw these white boys off?
ROBERTS: I never see'd 'em, please suh. I was good an'
sick in that cow car ... all the way from Chat-
tanoogie. ... I never see'd . . .
TRENT: Shet up! [Punches him in the stomach. ROBERTS
folds up with pain] Think it over now careful. [To
ALLEN.] Yuh kin go downstairs, Allen. Bring up that
boy when he comes along. . . . Whut's takin' 'em so
long anyway?
ALLEN [crossing through corridor]: Maybe they tuk the
wrong road. . . .
TRENT [as ALLEN exits]: You go 'long with him, Killian.
[As KILLIAN leaves.] Git me my ledger from the desk
Hillary. We kin git some things done while we're
waitin'. Goddam Cooley, had to run off with the
keys. . . . [HILLARY crosses to office.] Whut's that
ACT ONE 27
doctor takin' so long for Luther? [He is very nervous,
wrought up, excited and confused.] Got a drink with
yuh, Jack? [JACKSON hands him a half-pint bottle from
his pocket.] Thanks . . . yuh always kin be depend-
able. Have one Luther?
MASON: No thanks.
TRENT [drinks, holds up flask]: Kin I have this . . . ?
JACKSON: Sho' it ain't much. . . .
TRENT: Okay. Yuh kin bring me a jug o' that later Jack.
[JACKSON smiles and nods. HILLARY returns with
ledger. TRENT opens ledger, prepares to write] Whut's
yo' name, nigger?
PURCELL: Ozie Purcell. . . .
TRENT [writes]: How old are yuh?
PURCELL: Sixteen please suh.
TRENT: Where from?
PURCELL: Atlanta, Georgie . . . please suh. But I ain't
done nuthin'.
TRENT: I didn't ask yuh that. . . . [Kicks him on the
shins fiercely. PURCELL screams and falls. The boys in
the cage crowd up front to see better] Don't talk 'til
I ask yuh somethin'. [Addresses another negro.]
Whut's yo' name?
MOORE: Olen Moore please suh.
TRENT: How old?
MOORE: Seventeen please suh.
TRENT: Where from?
MOORE: Monroe, Georgie, suh.
TRENT: Whut's the matter with yo' eye?
MOORE: I cain't see outa this un suh ... an' I'm goin'
28 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
slow blin' on the other one. . . .
TRENT: Whut were yuh doin' on that freight?
MOORE: I was tryin' to git tuh Memphis where they's
got a colored hospital fo' eyes. . . .
TRENT: Never mind with that. . . . [To another negro.]
Whut's yo' name?
WALTERS: Gene Walters.
TRENT: How old?
WALTERS: Thirteen yeahs.
TRENT [looks up from ledger, then writes]: Yuh mean
sixteen.
WALTERS [puzzled]: Thirteen, please suh. . . .
TRENT [slaps his face hard]: Sixteen! Doan't yuh under-
stand English . . . you dumb nigger mule . . . ?
WALTERS [finally understanding]: Yassuh. Sixteen yeahs.
TRENT: Where're you from?
WALTERS [holding his injured face]: Chattanoogie, Ten-
nessee, suh.
SMITH [enters with keys]: Heah yuh are, Sheriff. . . .
[Crosses to him]
TRENT: Open up this heah door fo' the niggers. . . .
[SMITH proceeds to do so. At this moment much noise
is heard from outside] That mob still yellin' . . . ?
SMITH: I speck they done heerd the news the gals be'n
raped, Sheriff.
[Searches for proper cell-key. At this point ALLEN and
KILLIAN enter rear door with OLIVER TULLEY between
them.]
TRENT [rather confused]: Hullo! Who's this?
ACT ONE 29
ALLEN: This is that theah other hobo kid who stayed on
the train.
TRENT: Set him down theah. Stay with him. [TULLEY sits.
ALLEN stands next to him. SMITH is opening the cell
doors.] Hurry up, Smith.
MASON [in the interim]: What's your name?
PARSONS [one of the negroes]: Heywood Parsons, please
suh.
SMITH [calls to TRENT as he opens cell]: Okay, Sheriff.
[Enters corridor]
TRENT [crosses to crowd of negroes]: Come on ... git
in theah!
[KILLIAN and SMITH commence to herd the negroes into
the cell]
PARSONS [as KILLIAN pushes him into cell]: What fo' . . .
what fo' we 'rested . . . please suh? We ain't done
nuthin'. . . .
TRENT [strides over to him]: Git in theah yuh black bas-
tard . . . befo' I kick yo' teeth down yo' throat. . . .
Git. . . . [He and the deputies kick and maul the
negroes about until finally they are all inside. Depu-
ties lock the door and remain in the corridor, lean
against the left wall and converse. The white boys
in the cage talk among themselves, quietly but excit-
edly. TRENT and MASON are now in the office.] This is
that other hobo we're waitin' fo', Luther.
MASON [to TULLEY]: You didn't jump off?
TULLEY: No, suh. I didn't jump off. The posse tuk me
off at Rocky Point.
3O THEY SHALL NOT DIE
[MASON makes a sign to TRENT.]
TRENT: Yuh kin wait downstairs . . . Allen. I'll call if I
need yuh.
[ALLEN exits.]
MASON: What's your name?
TULLEY: Oliver Tulley.
MASON: Hobo?
TULLEY: Well . . . kinda.
MASON: Why didn't you jump off with the rest of 'em?
TULLEY: I was goin' tuh . . . but one of them niggers
pulled me back on.
MASON: Why did he pull yuh back? Did he want to
hurt you?
TULLEY: Hurt me? Hell, no! He saved my life. I'd a sho'
ben killed. Yuh see I never jumped off a movin'
freight befo' an' I was doin' it all wrong. I was leanin'
forward 'stead of backwards.
MASON [sharply]: Which of the girls did you have to do
with?
TULLEY: I didn't have nuthin' to do with 'em, suh.
MASON: How far away from them were you?
TULLEY: Well ... I could see the gals from where I
was.
TRENT: Yuh could?
TULLEY: Sho' I could. I was winkin' at 'em an' hollerin'
ovah to the gals. But I never done went over to 'em.
MASON: What were you saying to them?
TULLEY: Oh, jest jokin' 'round. Yuh know whut yuh
talk tuh gals about.
TRENT: Why didn't yuh go ovah tuh 'em?
ACT ONE 31
TULLE Y: Well ... to tell yuh the truth maybe I would
'ave but I was too skeered to climb along that speedin'
train. 'Specially sence I jest almost done fell off.
MASON [leans over him; slowly]: Did yuh see any of
them niggers together with the girls?
TULLEY: No, I didn't see that.
TRENT: Now don't yuh try tuh lie to us ... yuh lit-
tle ...
TULLEY [frightened]: I ain't lyin'.
TRENT: We'll see 'bout that soon 'nuff. Maybe you'll
change yo' mind after a coupla days or so ... on the
chain-gang. . . . [Opens door and not too gently
pushes TULLEY into run-around] An' maybe longer'n
that too. [Outside the noise grows louder. It seems
that there are at least two or three hundred in the
crowd downstairs. Sometimes a shout, a curse or a
threat can be distinctly heard. TRENT returns to MASON
who is lighting his cigar] Jest listen tuh that bunch,
Luther. [Thinking] They know all 'bout it now. . . .
VOICES:
We want tuh talk tuh Sheriff Trent. . . .
I'd like to cut off their . . .
Keep yo' hands off'n me . . . Kenneth Thomp-
son. . . .
We gotta keep 'em in their place. . . .
MASON [rather anxiously]: You sure you have enough
men . . . Sheriff?
TRENT: Sho'! [Crosses to rear door.] Hi ... theah,
Allen!
ALLEN [downstairs] : Yes, Sheriff?
32 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
TRENT: Come on up heah. [Turns to MASON.] We kin
talk to them niggers now, cain't we?
MASON: We can do that but I would prefer to question
those girls first and Doctor Thomas. . . .
VOICES [outside]:
Save the county money, Trent!
Jest a coil of rope. . . .
We got guns. . . .
An' we kin use 'em too. . . .
Come on out Sheriff an' talk it over. . . .
[TRENT and MASON look at each other significantly as
ALLEN enters]
ALLEN: Sheriff Trent! I'd like yuh tuh know those boys
downstairs are gittin' up tuh trouble. A coupla-two-
three jest came from the depot and they're all lit
up. ...
MASON [annoyed]: Well . . . what do they want?
ALLEN: Cain't yuh heah them? They're talkin' of stringin'
up these niggers tonight. They feel mighty bitter 'bout
this heah rape an' . . .
TRENT [gestures toward run-around]: Lock this feller
up, Allen. Stay theah an' keep 'em quiet.
[ALLEN exits and locks TULLEY into cage. Boys question
him. ALLEN remains there, and converses with the
white boys]
MASON [slowly]: You're certain you can take care of your
prisoners . . . Trent?
TRENT: I sho' can ... if I want tuh . . . Luther.
[MASON is silent, but looks at him to continue] But
ACT ONE 33
maybe ... it wouldn't be sech a bad idea to let the
boys . . .
MASON [suddenly]: No, don't you try that, Trent . . .
or I'll drop the whole business. This county has got
a bad lynch reputation plenty . . . and I don't want
anything like that held against me. What we want
... is just a nice speedy trial. That's all.
TRENT [somewhat with a sneer}: So yuh kin play yo'self
up ... eh?
MASON [somewhat heatedly]: Well ... it certainly
won't play you up as a sheriff ... if you let that mob
take out your prisoners from your jail. . . .
TRENT [in a more conciliatory tone]: Well, Luther . . .
if they go an' hold a meetin' tonight . . . they might
want tuh do it right after. Yuh see, theah ain't ben
no excitement heah sence sometime. . . .
MASON [lighting a fresh cigar. Then with his match in
hand]: Trent, I want you to call up the Governor and
ask for troops.
TRENT [surprised]: Yuh ain't foolin?
MASON: No . . . I'm serious. It's the smartest thing we
could do. Because ... if they drag out and burn up
these niggers . . . that's goin' tuh ruin you for any-
thing but sheriff and react on me indirectly . . . but
... if we call in the troops, why the whole state'll
heah about it ... and it'll be in the papers in Birm-
ingham and Atlanta and Chattanooga. . . . [He is
quite carried away with his idea]
TRENT: Well ... I dunno, Luther. It don't look so
34 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
nice. The boys might not like the idea, callin' out the
soldiers on 'em.
MASON: Don't be a fool, Trent. It'll be all over the state
in every newspaper . . . our names. . . . The folks
heah? They won't mind, long as we get a quick con-
viction. . . .
[Door opens and a MAN pokes his head in. VOICES are
heard shouting right outside the door and before
TRENT can get to it, five or six individuals are already
in the room.]
IST MAN: Come on, Trent . . . give 'em over.
2ND MAN: The quickest way's the best way. . . .
VIVIAN: We don't want tuh make yuh no trouble . . .
Sheriff . . . but yuh gotta . . .
TRENT [drawing his gun and advancing on them slowly]:
Now you listen heah, Jeff Vivian . . . you better git
the hell outa heah befo' I lock you up too. . . .
JEFF VIVIAN [threateningly]: You jest wait 'til we get
some of the Klan ovah from Gideon an' Williams-
town. . . .
TRENT [forcing them out, not too gently]: Go on. Shet
yo' trap. Shet it befo' I do it fo' yuh. [Forces them all
out. Voices continue objecting, threatening] Git back
... git out! I'm the law around heah. [Shuts the
door hard, and locks it] Allen!
ALLEN [calling and crossing to office]: Comin', Sheriff.
[Enters office]
TRENT: Go 'long downstairs an' round up all our boys.
Tell 'em to git their own guns ... an' swear 'em
in.
ACT ONE 35
ALLEN: But . . . kin I do that?
TRENT: Sho'. 'Long as I says so. Go on. [Hands him a box
from the desk filled with badges.] Here's some badges.
[ALLEN takes them and exits. TRENT locks the door
behind him. Crosses down to MASON. Looks at the
phone, then at the Solicitor.'] Luther ... if yuh think
I oughta do it ... I guess I will call the Governor.
But you'll have tuh speak tuh him ... I don't talk
so good.
MASON: Why of course. I knew you'd see it right, Trent.
[Winds phone crank.] Hello . . . Louise . . . you
ring the Governor's office in Montgomery, quick.
Yes . . . the Governor. [Turns to TRENT.] I'm cer-
tain you're doing the wisest thing . . . Trent. And
if you get an appointment as Federal Marshal . . .
you can thank this idea of mine.
TRENT: I hope so. [Then with conviction.] An' it'll show
up fo' certain with them soldiers heah, that them nig-
gers did rape 'em. . . . [Slight pause] I sho' could use
a Marshal's salary. . . . Mrs. Trent's ben needin'
a tumor operation fo' years and my boy Tom . . .
MASON [on phone]: . . . Why certainly, that'll be fine.
[Turns to TRENT.] The Governor would like to handle
it but he's tied up this minute with a committee.
Connecting us with the Lieutenant Governor. Now
you can see the contacts this move gives us ... [Into
phone, interrupting himself] Hello. . . . How do you
do, sir ... yes ... for Sheriff Trent out in Cookes-
ville. Well . . . you see Mr. Governor ... I beg
your pardon. . . You have word already of it? ...
36 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
That's fine. . . . No, this is Solicitor Mason. I don't
know if you remember me ... I had the privilege of
being introduced to your excellency in New Orleans,
last Mardi Gras. . . . Well, you understand, sir ...
that these nine negroes that the Sheriff at Rocky Point
took off the freight . . . well we have since dis-
covered . . . [Glances up at TRENT significantly.] . . .
sufficient evidence to indict them for rape and assault
on the two white girls. Yes ... we have them all
here now. . . .
MOORE [during MASON'S pauses]: . . . an' I dreamed
theah was a stable and some horses . . .
MASON [on phone]: . . . Well, that's just it your ex-
cellency. The town is all up in the air ... in fact
the whole county. . . . Yes, it's absolutely necessary,
sir. I would appreciate it sir. Captain Kennedy? . . .
That'll be just fine. Yes sir. Yes, your excellency. . . .
[Turns to TRENT.] The Lieutenant Governor would
like to have your official Okay, Sheriff Trent.
TRENT [somewhat frightened]: My Okay? Sho'. [Takes
phone.] Yes . . . Hello. Yes, your Honor. Sheriff
Trent himself. Yes suh. I says Okay. Thank you suh.
. . . Thank you. . . . Good-bye, suh. [Hangs up,
turns to MASON.] He's gonna have 'em over from
Springdale in as quick as they kin git ovah. . . .
MASON: That's eighteen miles. . . . [Winds phone]
Just a minute, I have an idea. Hello, Louise? I
suppose you heard the whole conversation. Well,
never mind. I give you permission to call Mrs. Jenkins,
Mrs. Cooley and even Mrs. Mason. . . . Yes. [To
ACT ONE 37
TRENT with hand over mouthpiece.] Now it'll be 'round
town in two shakes. [On phone.] Tell 'em all, that
troops will be heah in five minutes. Yes. . . . soldiers.
[Hangs up.] How's that? [Chuckles]
TRENT [thinking]: It'll take 'em an hour at least. I know
that Kennedy right well. His old man's a lodge brother
of mine. . . .
[There is knocking at the rear door.]
COOLEY [knocking]: Open up, Sheriff Trent.
TRENT [opening door]: Whut the hell tuk yuh so long,
Willie?
COOLEY [enters with DOCTOR THOMAS, the two girls and
HENDERSON]: We had tuh wait fo' Doctor Thomas to
git ready. . . .
TRENT [shakes hands with DOCTOR]: How do, Doc.
DOCTOR: How are you, Sheriff? Good-evening, Mr.
Mason.
[MASON nods and shakes with DOCTOR.]
TRENT: Go on, set down . . . Miss. [They do so. Turns
to HENDERSON.] You kin wait downstairs . . . Henny.
Keep me informed 'bout the mob. Don't let anybody
in this heah buildin'. [HENDERSON exits. To COOLEY.]
Yuh kin stay out in the corridor, Willie. Watch that
outside do'. Jackson should be on other side of the
landin'.
COOLEY: He's theah. I saw him as I come by.
[Crosses through run-around. Greets SMITH and KILLIAN.
Seats himself on stool, dips from his can of tobacco
and chews]
TRENT [in the meantime. With elation]: Well . . f; I
38 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
guess we were right, Doc. Huh?
DOCTOR: Well ... I thought I better come over my-
self, Sheriff. But I'll make it quick ... if you'll let
me. I've really got to get over to Mrs. Summerset's be-
fore six o'clock or she'll be havin' that baby born
without me. . . .
TRENT: Tell us jest as fast as yuh like . . .
DOCTOR: Well . . . these girls have had an examination
by me and I'm certain that they have both consorted
with a man. . . .
TRENT [jubilantly]: Didn't I tell yuh?
[MASON nods.]
DOCTOR [to LUCY]: You have had intimacy with a man
. . . haven't you, Miss?
LUCY [begins to cry]: I dunno what yuh mean. . . .
DOCTOR: I can't get a thing out of her. . . . [To LUCY.]
Have any negroes had anything to do with you . . .
Miss?
LUCY [crying]: No . . . nobody done nuthin' tuh
me. . . .
MASON [indicating VIRGINIA]: What about this one, Doc?
DOCTOR: Well, I'm purty certain 'bout her too. Of course
I'd like to check on my smears later again and . . .
MASON: But there was evidence in both of them . . . ?
DOCTOR: Well yes. I guess ... I guess you can figure
on both of 'em. . . .
MASON [in his professional manner]: Fine. Then it shows
conclusively that both these girls have been raped.
[VIRGINIA is about to object but decides to wait.]
DOCTOR: Well they've certainly had intimate relations
ACT ONE 39
with men. But 1 can't be too sure about rape.
[LUCY is quietly sobbing, trying to hide her shame and
sits close to VIRGINIA. VIRGINIA however is unafraid,
alert and trying hard to understand everything that is
going on.]
MASON: Were there any signs of rough attack, Doctor?
Any marks or lacerations?
DOCTOR [pursing lips]: No-o. Maybe the girls did it volun-
tarily. But that wouldn't come under rape . . . would
it Mr. Mason?
[VIRGINIA makes a move to rise but stops on hearing
MASON defend her]
MASON [with indignation and incredulousness]: Are you
trying to say to me, Doctor, that these white girls
would submit to negroes? I can't believe you're saying
that.
DOCTOR: No, I'm not saying that.
MASON [continuing in his court manner]: Then it is
perfectly possible, isn't it?
DOCTOR [cautiously]: Possible for what?
MASON: Possible that these girls were attacked and as-
saulted . . . ?
VIRGINIA [leaping up angrily]: We never done that at
all. . . .
MASON: Shut up! I'll deal with you later. . . .
DOCTOR: How many negroes have you arrested here?
TRENT: Nine o' them.
DOCTOR: Nine? [His eyebrows go up] Well, it certainly
don't appear from my examination like that many.
. . . Theah would be more than I found.
40 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
MASON [irritated]: I didn't say the whole nine attacked
each girl. This girl heah, for instance . . . [Indicates
VIRGINIA.] . . . had five of them and the other one
... say four of them. ...
DOCTOR: Yes . . . ?
MASON: Well, that would be possible?
DOCTOR [carefully]: Yes, it would be possible. [Suddenly
severe] But listen here Luther Mason . . . I'm a
physician and I have my ethical . . .
MASON [more irritably]: I only asked you if it were pos-
sible, Doctor Thomas. That's all I'm interested in.
The evidence is present. The circumstances and moti-
vation are our concern. You needn't worry, you won't
lose your license. [He says this last, with a bit of a
sneer]
DOCTOR: Very well, but that's all I said. Possible.
TRENT: Now Doc, don't git het up ovah nuthin'. . . .
DOCTOR: Well, I ain't het up at all. I just don't want to be
held responsible. . . . [Looks at his watch] Now I got
to run along and bring that Summerset baby out. . . .
[Crosses to door] I reckon you understand me, Solici-
tor Mason. . . . [Exits]
MASON [annoyed]: Jest plain rotten, that fellow. I never
did like him, much. Some day I'll catch him with an
illegal operation . . . and then I'll have him some-
where ... I guess. . . .
TRENT [impatient]: Luther, we got no time to lose. . . .
MASON: Certainly. [To VIRGINIA.] Now, looka heah, Mrs.
Ross. I want yuh to stop your rarin' around when I
ACT ONE 41
talk to you and be reasonable. You know we want you
to be protected, you know we're looking for your
good.
VIRGINIA: For my good? Layin' down with niggers? Yuh
want my friends to throw that up to me?
MASON [suavely]: Yes . . . but just think, Mrs. Ross,
think what people will say when they learn that you
didn't even want to help the law punish these black
fiends . . . these savage brutes. . . .
VIRGINIA: Oh, people allus talk their haids off. . . .
MASON [trying a new tack]: You say you work in the
Henrietta mills. Right?
VIRGINIA: Uh huh. When theah's work. [With some bitter-
ness]
MASON: Well, looka heah. Mr. Carter Hilton, the owner
of that mill, is a personal friend of mine. In fact he's a
client of mine. What do you think he'll say if you let
niggers get away with such terrible heinous crimes
against a white woman . . . ? t ^
VIRGINIA [rather pleased with his eloquence]: I guess he
wouldn't like it much.
MASON: He wouldn't have anyone working in his mill
whom he didn't like, now would he . . . ?
VIRGINIA: Well, I guess he wouldn't.
TRENT: And what about crossin' a state line with
hobos . . . ?
VIRGINIA [defiantly]: Well, I ain't done nuthin'.
TRENT: Then what about what the doctor said . . . yuh
ain't callin' him a liar?
42 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
VIRGINIA [becoming confused at this quick questioning]:
Well Mistah, I never, never slept with no man outside
of my husband.
MASON [pouncing on the opportunity]: Well, where is
he, your husband?
VIRGINIA [floundering]: We . . . we's divorced. . . .
MASON [pressing her] : Then kindly explain how the doc-
tor ...
VIRGINIA [trying to placate him]: Now listen heah, Mistah
. . . I'm willin' t,uh answer all yuh got tuh ask but po'
Lucy heah is tired. Let her lay down some place. . . .
LUCY: I wanna stay heah with you! 'Ginia.
MASON: That's right. Take care of the little girl, Sheriff.
Poor kid, she's all in. ...
LUCY [as TRENT takes her arm]: I'm all right. I ain't tired
atall. . . .
TRENT: You come 'long with me, gal. . . .
LUCY [frightened]: Where they takin' me . . . 'Ginia?
VIRGINIA: Yuh go on 'haid, Lucy. I'll be with yuh in a
coupla minutes. . . .
[TRENT leads her into run-around]
TRENT: Hi ... Willie! Git a cot out fo' this heah gal.
Let her lay down a while. . . .
[BOYS in cage laugh.]
RED: That wouldn't be nuthin' new fo' her. . . .
TRENT: Yuh shet yo' mouth, Red trash ... or I'll have
twenty pound of iron on yuh befo' yuh know it ...
MASON [in the interim. Rather friendly]: You understand,
Virginia. . . . We just can't let these niggers get away
ACT ONE 43
with such things because of the bad effect on other
niggers.
VIRGINIA [grateful that they are treating her as an equal]:
Well, I guess you're right. . . .
MASON [as TRENT enters]: After all, if we let 'em git away
with this once, a white lady wouldn't be safe any more.
VIRGINIA: Yeah . . . they git uppity mo' an' mo'. . . .
TRENT: Sho'. All kin' o' fool notions nowdays . . . some
even talkin' of votin' an' down in the Birmingham
steel . . . they're havin' all sorts o' trouble with 'em
. . . and down 'round Tallapoosa I heerd they're
formin' a share-croppers' union. . . . Did you know
that, Luther?
MASON [ignoring his question]: I know how you feel,
Mrs. Ross. I know you're ashamed. It's not pleasant
to have everybody know of such a disgrace. I know too
well how you must have suffered. But you must realize
too what a splendid brave thing you'll be doing for our
kind of people. . . . And have no fear, this state and
Hatchachubbe County will not soon forget your sacri-
fice. ... In fact the whole South. . . .
VIRGINIA [impressed but cautious]: Well ... I don't
keer to git in no trouble. . . .
MASON: You're certainly headed for plenty of that if you
let folks get the idea you took on those niggers of your
own free will. . . .
VIRGINIA [mechanically denying]: I never tuk none of 'em
niggers on. . . i*
MASON [meaningfully]: But you heard the doctor tell
44 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
what he found in you. . . . Yes ... it means a great
inner struggle but you are only the victim of a cruel
fate ... no one will blame you for telling the truth.
For having the courage to tell the truth. The news-
papers, the Governor, every man, woman and child
will thank you and praise you. The whole state will
have your name on its lips. Your picture will be in
every newspaper. . . .
TRENT: Sho' . . . instead of sayin' . . . what a low
trash. She wouldn't even help the law and admit what
the niggers done tuh her. . . .
MASON: And then losing your job too. . . .
VIRGINIA: Yuh sho' I wouldn't lose my job if I tell. . . .
MASON: You can hold me personally responsible, Mrs.
Ross. Sheriff Trent's a witness.
VIRGINIA [shrewd, smiling]: Well, couldn't I have a new
dress fo' tuh take them newspaper pictures in? This
don't look so good. . . .
MASON [smiles] : Why certainly, we can arrange that. Most
of the women here would be proud to help out.
VIRGINIA: I would 'predate it ... Lucy too . . . I'm
sho'. An' ... er ... maybe a li'l change too? Jest
a coupla dollars fo' the time I have tuh stay heah. Yuh
see I have an old sick maw who I support. . . .
TRENT [becoming annoyed]: Now looka heah, gal . . .
MASON [stopping TRENT]: Why certainly. Besides you'll
get three dollars a day as witness. Your friend too. . . .
VIRGINIA [tremendously impressed]: Three dollars every
day? [MASON nods smilingly.] Fo' a coupla days?
MASON: Why certainly . . . and maybe a little contribu-
ACT ONE 45
tion from the citizens of the town heah. . . .
VIRGINIA: Kin I bet on that?
MASON: My word as a gentleman.
VIRGINIA: And the snap-shots too?
MASON: Why certainly. . . .
VIRGINIA [a slight pause . . . then quite matter-of-fact]:
Well, what do yuh want tuh know . . . ?
MASON: Only the truth . . . that you and your friend
were attacked by these niggers. . . .
VIRGINIA [a slight pause]: I guess they did do that to us.
They absolutely did. . . . [Smiles] Is that all?
MASON: No . . . but I want you to talk first to your little
friend. Can you take care of her?
VIRGINIA [smiles]: Well, I guess so. I've been her best
friend sence she was fourteen and she always listens
tuh me. . . .
MASON: Fine and dandy. All right, then you go and talk
to her and I'll see you later. . . . [Extends his hand to
her.]
VIRGINIA [wipes her palm on her dress and then shakes
with him]: Thank you. And . . . please . . . yuh
won't be forgittin' them pictures?
MASON: Certainly not. . . . [Laughs gaily]
TRENT [leads her to run-around]: This way, Mrs. Ross.
VIRGINIA [crosses]: Say, couldn't I jest have a dip o' snuff
fo' chewin' while we're waitin'? [Winks at TRENT and
rubs up against him]
TRENT: Sho'. Sho'. [As they exit.] You're one hot gal,
aint yuh?
VIRGINIA [throwing her head back proudly]: I sho' am.
46 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
Hottest in Chattanoogie.
[They exit into run-around. MASON makes a few notes
in his pocket note book.]
TRENT [in run-around]: Hi theah . . . Cooley! Give
this heah lady yo' can o' chewin'. I'll pay yuh back fo'
it. An' git out a cot fo' the lady. . . .
COOLEY: I'll do that, Sheriff. [Enters run-around from cor-
ridor.]
TRENT [to the prisoners in the cage]: An' no monkey
shines from any o' you. Do yuh heah that?
MASON [calling]: Get one of those hobo kids in heah
now, Trent.
[Continues to make notes. TRENT chooses one of the white
boys in the cage.]
MOORE [in negro cell]: Did you take a look at 'em roads
as we drove in . . . ?
PARSONS: No ... I wasn't lookin' at no roads. . . .
TRENT [enters office with boy]: This is one of them boys
thrown off the train, Luther. He looks like a smart
feller. . . .
MASON [crosses to him]: Yes indeed. What's your
name?
COLLINS: Lewis Collins.
MASON: You from the South? [He is quite pleasant.]
COLLINS: Uh, huh. Abilene, Texas.
MASON: Well, the Sheriff here has a high opinion of you,
so you tell me, Lewis, all about it. After you were
thrown off that train, could you see the negroes start
attacking the girls? Could you see that?
ACT ONE 47
COLLINS [looks at him for an instant, then]: Kin I have
a cigarette, please?
TRENT: Sho'. Give him a cigarette, Luther. Give him a
couple.
[MASON does so and COLLINS lights it.]
LUCY [during this action]: Git me outa heah, 'Ginia.
Git me out ... I don't wanna . . .
COLLINS [puffing on his cigarette with great pleasure]',
Well . . . yuh see ... when I got tuh my feet on the
road-bed an' looked around . . . that train was a mile
away. I couldn't see a thing. . . .
TRENT [attempting a bluff]: Didn't yuh tell the deputy
yuh saw the gals bein' attacked?
COLLINS: I said nuthin' o' the kin'. How could I?
MASON: Still you can't say they didn't rape the girls?
COLLINS: I ain't sayin' nuthin'. They coulda done it ...
but I jest don't believe they did. . . .
TRENT: We're not anxious 'bout whut you believe. But
yuh jest keep in yo' mind that you're lookin' ahaid at
ninety days on the chain-gang. . . .
COLLINS [angry, with defiance]: That ain't gonna give me
eyes to see whut didn't happen. . . .
MASON [snapping]: How do you know what happened,
or didn't happen?
COLLINS: Well . . . I'm jest of that belief . . . thassall.
. . . [He says this warily.]
MASON [willing to be friendly]: Now looka heah, you.
You can make a nice bit of money for yourself as state's
witness if you're willing to do what's right. . . .
48 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
COLLINS [after a glance at negro cell] : Well, then I guess
I'm goin' tuh have some money, 'cause I aim tuh do
jest what is right. [Suddenly.] But my idea of right and
yourn is two different things. . . .
MASON [looks at TRENT significantly]: You better lock
this feller up, Sheriff.
TRENT [calls]: Hillary! [He enters] Lock him up. . . .
[HILLARY takes COLLINS' arm.] An' yuh bet' watch yo'
step . . . young feller.
COLLINS: I aim tuh. An' yuh bet' leave me beat it out of
this damn county. I spent 'nuff time on yo' chain-
gangs fo' nuthin' atall ... an' I don't have tuh swear
'way the lives of nigger kids fo' yo' benefit. . . .
TRENT [advances to him, threateningly]: Shet up or I'll
break yo' goddam . . .
COLLINS [defiantly as HILLARY drags him into run-around] :
Yuh jest try it. I ain't no nigger. I'll talk my haid
off. ...
TRENT: Lock him up ... Hillary . . . lock up that
Texas son-of-a-bitch. . . . [Outside the noise and
voices increase to loudness. Deputies' commands.
Shouts. Auto-horns, etc] We bet' deal with them nig-
gers now . . . Luther.
MASON: Yes, might as well. We can get their affidavits.
You have a typewriter some place around here?
TRENT: Sho' thing. I'll call Hillary. He kin do that so't of
thing. [Opens rear door, calls] Hillary!
[He enters]
MASON: Get this down, Hillary.
HILLARY: Yes suh. [Makes ready.]
ACT ONE 49
MASON [dictates]: Write ... I ... leave a space for
the name . . . hereby swear and confess that I at-
tacked and raped the woman, Virginia Ross and com-
mitted this assault against her will and desire on the
eighteenth day of March, in the year of our Lord . . .
[Phone rings.] Hello . . . Who? . . . Oh, how are
you Mr. McNary? Yes, pretty near finished now. Of
course . . . and in a planned cold-blooded way. . . .
VIRGINIA [in the run-around, the girls whisper between
themselves. The prisoners are now quiet in their cage]:
. . . Now you listen tuh me, Lucy. . . .
MASON [on phone]: . . . Well, that would be up to the
judge, Mr. McNary. Not me. But it isn't in my jurisdic-
tion to set the day of trial. . . . What's that? . . .
Why certainly I know your fair is coming next
week. . . .
MOORE [in negro cell]: Them roads was all deep red
clay, red wid niggers' blood. . . .
MASON: Well, I don't know about it coming off on just
the same day. . . . Yes. . . . Why certainly, I realize
what it means to you. . . . Yes, I can do that, I dare-
say. . . .
LUCY: . . . but I am the baddest talker . . . I jest cain't
tell no story. . . .
MASON [on phone]: . . . Well, suppose we get together?
We can talk it over quiet-like. We'll be alone. . . .
Why certainly. Good-bye Mr. McNary.
[Hangs up. TRENT has been listening very attentively.]
TRENT [shrewdly]: Jest remember, Luther ... to keep
me in mind all the time . . . when yuh talk tuh Mr.
50 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
McNary . . . jest remember my circumstances.
MASON: Indeed I will. You know me . . . Trent.
[HILLARY is typing at the desk.]
TRENT [examines his watch]: Them soldiers should be
heah soon. Shall I carry the niggers in heah?
MASON [making a notation]: Yes, take them in here one
by one.
TRENT [unbolting door]: Any one in particular?
MASON: No, just at random.
[Watches HILLARY type]
TRENT [holding his gun-butt in holster, enters cell]: Hi
. . . you theah! Git up an' come in heah. [ROBERTS
rises] Come on. . . . [Kicks him] Move 'long that
black end o' yourn. . . . [ROBERTS enters office, shuf-
fling his feet, wearily] Pick up yo' feet, nigger. . . .
[TRENT enters and locks door.]
MASON: What's your name?
ROBERTS: Willie Roberts, please suh. [He speaks hoarsely
and indistinctly.]
MASON: What's that?
ROBERTS: Roberts. Willie Roberts.
MASON: Why don't you speak up?
ROBERTS: I'm jest parched with thirst . . . please suh. I
ain't had nuthin' tuh drink at all sence I left Chat-
tanoogie. . . .
MASON: Give him a drink, Hillary.
TRENT: Let's wait with that, 'til after he talks up. He
won't die. [To ROBERTS.] Now, yuh tell us quick how
yuh attacked those gals.
ACT ONE 51
ROBERTS: Attackded?
TRENT: Yes . . . don't play dumb. . . .
MASON: How you jumped on them in the train and forced
them. . . .
ROBERTS: I never done that, please suh. I tol' yuh how I
was so sick with misery, I couldn't move myself. . . .
TRENT: Shet up. What yuh gonna say to the jedge in
court? [Slaps his face.]
ROBERTS [wetting his lips, swallowing]: I dunno, please
suh.
TRENT: What do yuh mean yuh don't know? [Punches
him hard. The negro sprawls to the floor and lies still.
HILLARY at this moment finishes his typing] Hillary,
throw some water on him. He asked fo' it befo'.
[HILLARY does so. TRENT kicks him. ROBERTS gets up to his
knees]
VIRGINIA [as HILLARY throws the water on ROBERTS]:
Doan't yuh see, Lucy, they kin sen' us tuh jail fo' yeahs
an' yeahs. . . . Crossin' the state line with men. . . .
MASON [to ROBERTS, now on his knees]: Come on now,
did you do it ... did you?
ROBERTS: I never done nuthin', please suh.
TRENT: Yuh want some mo'? [Bangs ROBERTS around a
few times] Did yuh do it?
ROBERTS: Yassuh. I done it. I done it. ...
TRENT: Tuk yuh too long a time. . . . And don't fo'git
tuh say the same thing in court . . . yuh black bitch
| - r . . or I'll pump yuh full o' holes right theah in court.
. . . Right theah on the witness chair. Understand?
52 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
[ROBERTS nods exhausted and staggers to his feet.]
Okay. Now git in theah, and don't yuh fo'git what I
said 'bout that shootin'.
[TRENT unlocks door. ROBERTS crosses to threshold.]
ROBERTS: Yassuh.
[As he crosses into cell TRENT gives him a hard shove and
he falls to his face with a thud]
TRENT: You theah. . . . [Points to ROY WOOD.] Git in
heah. . . . [ROY rises and enters] We ain't got yo'
name yet . . . huh?
ROY: No suh, please suh.
[TRENT bolts door]
MASON: Write this down, Hillary. What's your name?
ROY: Roy Wood, please suh.
MASON: How old?
ROY: Fourteen, please suh.
MASON: You mean sixteen.
ROY [nods understandingly]: Yassuh. Sixteen, please suh.
MASON: Where from?
ROY: Chattanoogie, Tennessee.
MASON [suddenly]: What the hell are you bumming
around for, so young?
ROY: I was lookin' fo' tuh work with my brudder, Andy
. . . Please suh.
TRENT: Yuh helped yo' brother rape those white gals,
didn't yuh?
ROY: Rapded? Please ... I dunno know that word. . . .
[Wags his head not understanding]
TRENT: Yuh don't? [Slaps his face hard] Well, it means
jumped on, tore off their clothes . . . tuk 'em by
ACT ONE 53
force. That's what it means. Understand?
ROY [stares at TRENT blankly. Nods eagerly]: Yassuh, yas-
suh.
TRENT: Didn't yuh help him do that? Didn't yuh try it
yo'self too?
MASON [somewhat guiltily. Waves TRENT aside]: Looka
heah, boy. I know you're a youngster, but just because
of that, you deserve the worst. If a youngster can be so
bad, so plumb wicked, then how will you be when
you grow up?
ROY: I ain't done nuthin', please suh.
MASON: Now listen. . . .
TRENT [at same time]: Nobody asked yuh that.
[Slaps his face a few times, very hard. The boy staggers
up against the desk and bursts out crying like a
child]
MASON [gestures to TRENT to desist]: Now listen to me.
We're goin' to let you get away with plenty because
you're young. You don't have to say you did anything
. . . but you do confess that you saw the rest do it.
You did see them do it, didn't you?
ROY [crying]: I done see nuthin'. An' Andy didn't done
nuthin' too. . . .
MASON: Do you want to get shot? Show him that gun,
Sheriff. Show him what it means to lie.
TRENT [pushes boy's chin up with gun]: This heah can
blow yo' goddam head off right back to Chattanooga,
yuh li'l black son-of-a- . . .
ROY [fearful, almost in frenzy]: I'll talk, please suh. I'll
talk anything yuh want me tuh. . . .
54 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
VIRGINIA [to LUCY]: An' dresses an' cash, three dollars a
day. . . .
TRENT [unbolts door]: Now git in theah an' keep quiet.
ROY [enters cell]: Yassuh. Thank yuh, suh.
TRENT [points to PARSONS]: You theah?
PARSONS: Me?
TRENT: Yeah, you. Who the hell do yuh think I mean,
yuh dirty swamp-scum?
[PARSONS crosses to door]
ROBERTS [hoarsely]: Yuh promised me a drink, please
suh.
TRENT [hesitates, then . . . ]: All right. Though I
shouldn't do it. Hillary! Git him a drink. [HILLARY
gives ROBERTS a drink. PARSONS still stands at the door
waiting] What the hell yuh waitin' fo'? Jedgment
Day? [Pushes him roughly into office] Sit down theah.
[PARSONS does so.] Which of them gals did you attack?
PARSONS [he is sullen and his voice has a rebellious quality
that enrages the Sheriff]: I done attackded nobody.
TRENT [punches the negro's jaw, his head rolls back]: Yuh
bet' think that ovah, nigger.
PARSONS [shakes his head slowly to clear it]: No suh,
I done did nuthin'.
TRENT: Stubborn, huh? Didn't yuh jump that blonde-
haired gal?
PARSONS: I never seen her. . . .
TRENT [frenzied. Punches him three or four times to face
and stomach. Kicks him as he falls against desk. He is
evidently much the sadist]: Come on, 'fess up or I'll
kill yuh, you goddam, stinkin' black bastard. . . .
ACT ONE 55
PARSONS [looking up at him, quietly]: I was never near
them gals all the time. . . .
MASON: Backward as an army mule. You'll never get that
buck to confess, Sheriff.
TRENT [storming,, breathless with unsuppressed fury. He
drags out a drawer from the desk and snatches from
within a short thick crop]: I'd like tuh see the nigger
I cain't make do that. [To PARSONS, cracking the crop]
Coin' tuh tell the truth . . . ?
PARSONS [hunched up, his arms up ready to defend him-
self from blows]: I'm tellin' yuh the truth, white man.
So help me Jesus. . . .
TRENT [strikes him with the crop]: Git yo' damn hands
down! I'll chop 'em off. Talk! Talk! [Strikes him again.
In the negro cell, the occupants stare at each other
with white, horrified eyes. In the cage, the white prison-
ers hearing the crop cracking, bunch up against the
mesh to hear better. The girls frightened, move down
the run-around to the extreme right. LUCY is trembling
with fear] Don't yuh know theah's a mob of Klu
Kluxers outside ready tuh hang yuh and burn yuh inch
by inch . . . and I'm pertectin' yuh? Do yuh want me
tuh hand yuh ovah tuh 'em? Tuh lynch yuh? Tonight?
Right tonight?
PARSONS [exhausted — panting]: Please suh, lemme 'lone.
Let this po' nigger be. I never done no harm to nobody
in the world. Mary, mother of Jesus kin tell yuh
that. . . Y :
TRENT [losing all control, proceeds with HILLARY'S help
to beat the negro into unconsciousness]: I'll fix yuh,
56 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
yuh lousy, low-down . . . [The crop cracks merci-
lessly. PARSONS cringes, tries to crawl away under the
desk but HILLARY drags him out.] I'll fix yuh, takin'
the name of Gawd . . . I'll kill yuh . . . I'll cut yuh
tuh shreds. . . .
LUCY [crying, frightened]: Oh . . . Virginia . . . they'll
kill them nigger boys yet. . . .
VIRGINIA: Sssssshh. Hush yo' mouth. . . . Don't yuh talk
like that. . . .
MASON [to TRENT] : Listen Sheriff . . . listen . . . Sheriff
Trent. You'll be killin' him. . . .
TRENT [unheeding]: Drag him out . . . the yaller-
livered black bastard . . . Hillary! Make him suffer
like he made them po'r white gals suffer. . . .
[PARSONS is now completely out and lies on the floor,
senseless. In the negro cells, MOORE suddenly screams,
terrified]
MOORE: Lo'd . . . Jesus Christ. . . .
[The other negroes suddenly begin to scream and moan
and wail almost like wild beasts. One whimpers like
a dog. Another howls. HILLARY unbolts door and rushes
in to quiet them]
TRENT: Git up ... git up. . . . [Kicks the unconscious
PARSONS.]
MASON: But . . . listen here . . . Sheriff Trent . . .
you . . .
[The rear door opens and ALLEN and HENDERSON lead
in CAPTAIN KENNEDY and a SERGEANT, both in full uni-
form. Behind them, remaining in the doorway, a few
soldiers can be seen, carrying rifles with fixed bayonets]
ACT ONE 57
TRENT [tossing the crop aside]: Oh . . . How yuh . . .
Kennedy?
KENNEDY \salutes\i How you, Sheriff? Hullo, Mr. Mason.
Havin' trouble with 'em? [Gestures toward prostrate
figure of PARSONS.]
MASON: I reckon you've heard all about it . . . ?
KENNEDY: Heard about it? Say, theah ain't a man, woman
or child in this county ain't heard about it. Comin'
down on Highway 43, we passed over two hundred
machines. Theah were mule wagons too, ain't that so,
Serg.?
SERGEANT: You bet.
TRENT: Well, I reckon theah won't be no cuttin' up in
Cookesville to-night, huh, Captain?
KENNEDY: I speck not. I got a temporary company of
seventy-five men and two machine guns. And I hear
Lieutenant Pressman's on his way too from Mount
Crawford with sixty more men. He's bringin* the tear
gas with him. . . .
TRENT: That's sho' fine. I would if I might suggest, Cap-
tain, tuh put yo' men 'round the buildin'. . . .
KENNEDY: I've done that already Sheriff.
TRENT: An' those outside stairs. . . .
KENNEDY: Where do they lead to?
TRENT: They come right up heah into the jail. . . .
KENNEDY: Sergeant! [He salutes at attention.] Place a ma-
chine gun and three men on that outside staircase.
[SERGEANT nods] Place the other gun at the front en-
trance. Also ten men down the street, twenty paces . . .
and ten mo' up the street.
58 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
SERGEANT: Same distance, suh?
KENNEDY: Use your judgment. Don't bother anybody
heah in town, but jest let them see yuh standin' theah.
Don't pick no trouble with the folks heah. [SERGEANT
nods. To TRENT.] Anything else, Sheriff?
TRENT: Yeah. I'd like tuh have a couple of these boys
heah in the corridor, jest tuh keep them niggers
quiet-like. . . .
KENNEDY [to SERGEANT]: Okay. I want you boys to take
good care of 'em niggers. You all know what they
done. . . . They're a purty mean bunch of niggers.
SERGEANT: Yes suh. I catch on. ...
[Smiles. SOLDIERS cross to corridor and take positions in
front of negro cell.]
LUCY: An' dresses fo' me too . . . ?
VIRGINIA: Yes, sho'. . . .
TRENT: Yuh boys kin stay downstairs too, Allen. Jest
keep yo' eyes peeled fo' any sign o' trouble. . . .
[ALLEN and HENDERSON exit.]
KENNEDY [touches PARSONS' body with his toe]: This one
of the rapers?
TRENT: Yeah. He's a bad un. Don't want to confess the
truth. . . .
KENNEDY: They're all that way, them sons-of-a-bitch nig-
gers. [Spits at the figure of PARSONS.]
TRENT: Put him back in the cell, Hillary. Throw some
water on him.
[HILLARY does so]
KENNEDY: I don't keer to git in wrong with the folks
'round heah, Sheriff ... I got my orders but I would
ACT ONE 59
hesitate tuh shoot into white men . . . even if I didn't
know 'em. . . .
[During the preceding two speeches and the following re-
marks until TRENT asks them to desist, the SOLDIERS
at the negro cell keep jabbing their bayonets between
the bars frightening and scraping the negro boys. The
SOLDIERS shout commands and the negroes scream for
mercy.}
SOLDIERS: NEGROES:
Jump! Rapin' white worn- Quit it, please suh.
en, will yuh?
Come on, let's see yuh
jump! Lemme be, white man.
Gonna tell the truth? You're tearin' us all up
'Fess up! Lo'dy, lemme be.
'Fess up! Lo'd Jesus!
TRENT: Hell, I won't be gittin' any sleep with sech crowds
around every night . . . and Mrs. Trent wouldn't be
catchin' much sleep either. [Phone rings. TRENT an-
swers} Hullo . . . who? . . . what? [To KENNEDY.]
Will yuh ask yo' men to quiet down with them niggers,
please? I reckon they got enough with the present . . .
[KENNEDY crosses to men. There he stops their bayonet
practice} Hello . . . yes? How you, Bill? Sho' Mabel's
fine . . . yes . . . I'll tell her. [Throughout phone
conversation there is heard the whimpering of one of
the younger negro boys.] Who? . . . Yeah ... he
jest loves that academy down in Mobile. . . . Yeah
he's a fine boy, stands all of six foot now, writes his
daddy every day. ... No they didn't kill the gals,
60 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
jest raped 'em . . . yes. . . . Huh?
LUCY: . . . will they take my pictures too, 'Ginia? . . .
VIRGINIA: Sho'. We kin take 'em together . . .
LUCY: . . . And they'll really put 'em in the papers . . . ?
TRENT [on the phone]: Sho' we got the soldiers but we
don't want no cuttin' up. . . . Sho' . . . we got 'em
tuh talk. . . . O' course the niggers're natchurly stub-
born. . . . Huh? . . . Sho'. We jest gotta keep them
black bastards in their place. . . . Sho'. . . . [As
TRENT waits to hear what the other party is say-
ing. . . .]
CURTAIN
ACT TWO
ACT TWO
SCENE ONE
The home of LUCY WELLS in "Nigger-town" of Humbolt.
A few weeks later.
The house is one with three small rooms and a kitchen
but we only see the living room which also serves as a
bed-room when necessary. In spite of it being the larg-
est of the rooms it appears terribly small and cramped.
The walls are dirty, old and stained. One or two framed
prints and cheap, colored lithographs decorate them,
or rather attempt to do so but to no avail. The floor is
of unpainted, uncovered floor-boards and the ceiling
contains not a few rain-stains.
In the wall, stage-left: a door leading to the street. At the
present it is replaced by a screen-door broken in places.
Through this can be seen a small, railed, wooden land-
ing a step or two off the street. A bit of a roof covers the
landing. Across the unpaved street can be seen un-
painted shacks, similarly constructed. A window near
the door also contains broken screening. Beneath the
window: a small table with a kerosene lamp on it.
Nearby is a cast-iron coal stove; on it ... a wash-bowl
and a cracked pitcher.
In the opposite wall, stage-right: a door leading to LUCY'S
room. Upstage of this: a door leading to the kitchen.
63
64 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
Upstage of the screen door is a couch with a soiled cover
and a few extremely aged and disreputable pillows. On
occasions this serves as MRS. WELLS' sleeping place. The
two younger Wells' children sleep on mattresses in the
kitchen.
On the backs of two chairs is braced an ironing-board.
Near this is a basket filled with new wash.
It is late afternoon and there is still a bit of sunlight out-
side. Through the screen door little TOMMY WELLS can
be seen playing with two or three little negro children.
Now and then negro passers-by are seen strolling past.
Then a young negro youth saunters by, singing away.
MRS. NORA WELLS is busy ironing the wash. She continues
this a moment after the curtain rises. Then the chil-
dren outside commence to quarrel. She puts down the
iron with a sigh, crosses to door and chides her son.
MRS. WELLS: Stop that, Tommy. Stop it ... I say. What
d'yuh mean hittin' him? Let him be. . . .
TOMMY: He hit me first. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Well . . . you stop that cuttin' up anyway.
[Returns to ironing-board. Recommences her work
but finds the iron cold. Holds it near her cheek to test
its heat. Glances toward door to LUCY'S room and lis-
tens for a second. Exits into kitchen. A noise of iron on
iron is heard and she re-enters immediately with a hot
iron. Just as she reaches the board, the door to LUCY'S
room opens and a young MAN enters. He has his hat on
but removes it quickly with an embarrassed smile.]
YOUNG MAN: Good-evenin', ma'am.
ACT TWO 65
[MRS. WELLS nods. He stands confused for an instant,
then turns and exits through the screen-door. MRS.
WELLS, iron in hand looks after him, sighs, then returns
to her work. She spits on the iron to test its heat and
resumes her ironing. In a few seconds LUCY enters
from her room. She seems to be depressed and seats
herself quietly in a chair by the table remaining
silent.]
MRS WELLS: Tommy's allus pickin' scraps with the nig-
ger kids. [LUCY is silent. A pause.] How much did he
give yuh, Lucy?
LUCY: Same as allus, Maw.
MRS. WELLS [simulating casualness]: Fo' bits? [LUCY nods,
dispiritedly] Well, yuh bet' give it tuh me now. Time
fo' supper comin' on.
LUCY: It's in my room on the bed. . . .
MRS. WELLS [somewhat irritable]: Well, why don't yuh
bring it on in with yuh? Ain't my feet tired enough
with all this standin' an' ironin'. . . .
LUCY: I don't want tuh tech the dirty money. [Continues
to stare ahead, sullenly]
MRS. WELLS [crosses to LUCY'S room]: Hm! Gittin' all high-
hat of a sudden. [Exits and immediately returns.]
Whut's the matter with yuh? So glum an' low. . . .
LUCY: Yeah, Maw . . . I'm a-feelin' mighty low. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Yuh ben feelin' an' carryin' on this a-way
ever sence that trial at Cookesville.
LUCY [in the same monotone]: Uh, huh. Ever sence that
trial.
MRS. WELLS [ironing again]: Well, yuh got no reason tuh.
66 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
Them dresses ain't so bad . . . yuh didn't have a
stitch to yo' name . . . and that fo'teen dollar come in
right handy with Tommy sick an' my work fallin' off.
. . . [Slight pause.] Whut's theah to feel so glum
'bout, anyway?
LUCY [still sullen and rather introspective]: I'm feelin' I
didn't git hardly enough fo' whut I done fo' 'em.
Maybe I shouldn't never' ve done it at all.
MRS. WELLS: Whut yuh talkin', gal? Yuh jest had tuh do
right by the law. Whut would decent people say of us
if yuh hadn't? Lo'd knows they look down at us aplenty
as is ... an' if yuh . . .
LUCY [with some feeling]: Well, they still look down at
us. They do. They promised me all so'ts of things. They
promised me steady work at the mill . . . an' heah
they haven't given me mo' than seven or eight days in
all the weeks sence the trial. . . .
MRS. WELLS [speculatively]: Well, maybe things is slow
. . . but they'll pick up after a while an' . . .
LUCY: Well, 't ain't so. Things is slow . . . but Virginia
Ross . . . she's gittin' work. . . .
MRS. WELLS [surprised]: She is?
LUCY: Sho' she is. She's gittin' fo' an' five days a week an'
I'm on'y gittin' two days every second week. . . .
[Flaring up] An' whut's mo' she goes astruttin' 'round
town like a fightin' cock, talkin' how smart she is ...
an* how she showed up at Cookesville an' how she had
tuh shet me up ... an' how stupid and dumb I was
all the time. . . .
MRS. WELLS: She doin' that?
ACT TWO 67
LUCY: Sho' she is. I heerd it too, from somebody she tol'
it to. . . .
MRS. WELLS [after a slight pause]: Well, tell me. . . .
Why wasn't yuh smart like Virginia an' talk up?
LUCY [angrily]: 'Cose I couldn't. 'Cose I didn't keer to.
Virginia, she kin talk easier than I kin sleep. She was
havin' a great fun. . . .
MRS. WELLS [holds iron near face, continues ironing]:
Lucy, you answer this fo' me. Why do they give
Virginia mo' work than you? That seems like some-
thin' fishy tuh me. Yuh must 'ave done somethin'
wrong. . . .
LUCY: Yeah, I done many things wrong, Maw.
MRS. WELLS: Now, don't be gittin' glum again. Jest think
how lucky yuh are. Look at gals like 'Gusta Living-
ston . . . she'd give her right arm fo' yo' looks. No
man would even peek at her. . . .
LUCY: Well ... I dunno what good it's done me so
far. ...
MRS. WELLS: Well, would yuh ruther starve . . . ? [LUCY
is silent.] Trouble with yuh kids, yuh don't know whut
it means tuh suffer. [Self -pityingly] Why, every time
that rum-hound father o' yourn would beat it away fo'
months, an' I was carryin' little Tommy, I'd go hungry
fo' weeks tuh keep yuh an' Sally alive. The Jefferson
Mills was closed up then all yeah . . . an' theah
weren't a bit o' work fo' a livin' soul. . . . [Begins to
sob.]
LUCY: Aw, quit the slushin', Maw. I don't fo'git all that.
[Crosses to her and embraces her.]
68 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
MRS. WELLS [crying and enjoying it]: All my live-long life
I've struggled an' worked an' sweated. . . .
LUCY: Well looka heah, Maw. . . . [Draws from her
pocket a crumpled bill.] I'll give yuh this fo' a new
dress fo' yo'self. . . .
MRS. WELLS [ceases her crying and looks at it]: Whut's
that, Lucy?
LUCY: A dollar. I got it yest'day evenin'. I thought of buy-
in' me a coupla pair o' stockin's but yuh kin have
it. ...
MRS. WELLS [magnanimously]: No yuh don't. Yuh keep it
fo' yo'self. . . . [Pushes it back into LUCY'S pocket]
Yuh jest go right ahaid an' buy them stockin's. But
who . . . who done broke his heart an' give yuh a
dollar?
LUCY [with a little smile. In a somewhat better mood]: I
was jest lucky. We were standin' around the drug-sto',
me an' that Brooks gal an' this feller come alongside
in his car. It was one of 'em new Chevvies. An' he be-
gun tuh gab with me. Edna Brooks had a date an' so
I druve off alone with him. [With a smile as she remi-
nisces] He was awful nice. He's a sales-feller. He sells
dresses an' aprons tuh sto's like Frederick's an' . . .
Greenstein's. . . .
MRS. WELLS: He musta ben a Yankee tuh give yuh a
dollar.
LUCY: No ... he ain't. Said he comes from Oklahoma.
MRS. WELLS: Well, that's South enough, I guess.
LUCY: He did say as he might be 'round tonight befo' he
leaves fo' Birmingham.
ACT TWO 69
MRS. WELLS [worried a trifled]: Well, I'm afraid . . . yuh
know my friend, Mr. Greyson'll be heah soon. . . .
LUCY [reassures her mother]: Oh, jest visitin', Maw. He
said he might jest like tuh say goodbye. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Yuh believe that . . . ?
LUCY: Well, I figger if I don't believe him he won't come
an' if I'll believe him, then he'll come. So I'm goin' tuh
git on my shoes an' fix up a bit 'cause I do believe he'll
come. . . . [Crosses to her room and exits.]
MRS. WELLS [calls to LUCY who is now in her room; the
door is open] : Whut's his name? Or the name he give
yuh?
LUCY: Evans. Russell Evans.
MRS. WELLS: How old is he?
LUCY: Jest a young feller, Maw. 'Bout twenty-two or three.
MRS. WELLS: Twenty-two? Whut kin' of salesman is that?
LUCY: Well, he ain't doin' it long. This is his first
yeah. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Hmm. [Crosses to rear door] Tommy! Come
heah, will yuh. [TOMMY comes to the landing, with a
jump. MRS. WELLS opens the screen door] Heah's a fifty-
cent piece. Now don't yuh go an' lose it. [LUCY enters
and crosses to mirror hanging over the couch. She
combs her hair] Git me a half pound of chop meat an'
some soup bones. An' git five cents worth of oleo-
margerine too. . . .
TOMMY: Kin I buy this over in Crandall's, Maw? It's a
lot nearer.
MRS. WELLS: No suh. Yuh go to the mill-sto' like yuh do
allus.
7O THEY SHALL NOT DIE
TOMMY: Aw, Maw. . . .
LUCY [still at mirror]: Let him go to Crandall's, Maw.
MRS. WELLS: Whut's that? An' whut if they find out at the
mill-sto' . . . ?
LUCY [angrily]: I don't keer what they find out. I'm not
spendin' my money at their damn sto'.
MRS. WELLS: You're plumb gaffy, Lucy. You'll be throwin'
away yo' job with sech goin's-on.
LUCY: Well, I ain't goin' tuh pay them two an' three cents
mo' on the pound jest because they let me work fo'
them. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Yuh run 'long, Tommy. Tuh the mill-sto'.
LUCY [crosses to door]. No yuh don't, Tommy. That's my
money an' I'll spend it wheah I like. Yuh buy that stuff
in Crandall's. . . . [TOMMY runs off with a shout of
glee. LUCY turns and walks downstage slowly. Suddenly
with fire] I hate 'em! I hate everything about them all!
Ever sence I had tuh go an' work fo' them at their damn
five cents an hour. . . . [Throws herself into a chair
at the table and cries bitterly] They done fooled me.
They done give Virginia Ross everythin' an' me
nuthin'. . . . [Continues to cry as if her heart would
break]
MRS. WELLS: Well . . . yuh ain't the on'y one in Hum-
bolt's outa work. . . . [LUCY cries without sound, her
shoulders trembling.'] Sloppin' over ain't goin' tuh
help yuh none. . . . [She turns toward the door as she
hears someone coming] Now quit that an' dry yo'self
up. Someone's comin' 'long. [The figure of a man is
seen approaching the landing] Maybe it's that young
ACT TWO 71
sales-feller of yourn.
[LUCY looks up, sees who it is and hurries into her room
hastily, ]
LUCY [as she closes her door]: It's him, Maw. I'll be right
out.
MRS. WELLS [crosses to door just as the visitor arrives
there]. Good-evenin', suh. [Opens door]
EVANS: Good-evening, ma'am. Is this where Lucy Wells
lives?
MRS. WELLS: It sho' is. Come right in please. [He enters,
his hat in hand] Set yo'self down please. . . . [He
does so] Lucy! Someone tuh see yuh. . . . Hurry up
theah . . . ! [Smiles to EVANS.] She'll be right out.
You'll excuse me I hope, fo' not fixin' up. . . . [Ges-
tures to ironing board. She is exceedingly polite] But
we didn't 'xactly 'xpect you so soon, Mr. ... er ...
I fo'got. ... I didn't quite ketch the name, suh.
EVANS: Russell Evans, ma'am. Are you Mrs. Wells?
MRS. WELLS: Yes, I am. . . . An' I'm pleased to know
yuh. [He smiles and nods. She is embarrassed, not
knowing what further to say. She remains still, smil-
ing] I'll jest remove this board. . . . [Proceeds to do
so] . . . it's sech a mess, ain't it? Lucy! Why don't yuh
hurry up yo'self?
LUCY [calling]: I'm comin', Maw.
MRS. WELLS: Yuh from . . . from Oklahoma, ain't yuh?
EVANS: Yes. Fairchild, Oklahoma. Though my birth-
place is Vicksburg, Mississippi. Ever been out that way,
Mrs. Wells?
MRS. WELLS: Oklahoma? No, I ain't ever ben that fur. But
72 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
I have ben as fur West as Shreveport, Louisiana. And
I did have some kin in Vicksburg when I was younger.
I still remember that sayin' 'bout Vicksburg. It was
about the Catholics and the niggers. . . .
EVANS [smiling]: Owned by the Jews, run by the Catho-
lics, for the benefit of the niggers. . . .
MRS. WELLS [chuckling]: That was it. ...
[LUCY enters, she is rather shy]
EVANS: Good-evenin'.
LUCY: How do? Set down, please.
MRS. WELLS [after a slight pause]: Well, I guess I'll go
long. That stove in my kitchen's stinkin' terrible of
coal-oil ... an' I guess I'll fix it now. You'll excuse
me . . . won't yuh, Mr. Evans?
EVANS: Why, of course. [She exits, and closes the kitchen
door quietly and carefully] Well . . . how you been,
Miss . . . Wells?
LUCY: I reckon yuh kin call me ... Lucy.
EVANS [somewhat embarrassed]: I will if you call me ...
my first name too. . . . [She nods her assent, smiling.
He not knowing what else to say, places a paper parcel
that he has been holding all the time down on the
table. She looks at it, curiously] These are some cotton-
prints that I have left over among my samples. I
thought you might be able to make use of them, Lucy.
LUCY [surprised]: What? Fo' me?
EVANS: You bet. Open it up. Maybe you won't like 'em.
LUCY: I'm sho' I will. [She opens the parcel]
EVANS [as she does so]: I think they'll fit you. They're just
about your size.
ACT TWO 73
[She takes out the dresses and holds them up.]
LUCY [very happy]: Ain't they jest the finest? [Turns to
him. Incredulous] Kin I really have them? Won't yuh
be needin' 'em?
EVANS [blushes red at this profound appreciation]: I said
you could have them, Lucy. I don't need them at all.
LUCY [her eyes filled with tears]: Thank yuh, Mist' Rus-
sell. . . . Thank yuh. [She swallows. Looks at him si-
lently]
EVANS: Why, what's the matter, Lucy?
LUCY: Oh, nuthin'. I jest feel slushy inside. . . . [She
folds them up carefully]
EVANS: Don't you want to try them on?
LUCY: Well, I know you're in a hurry . . . and I would
like better tuh spen' the time talkin' tuh yuh. . . .
Maybe I'll have tuh take them in a bit too. . . .
EVANS: You bet. [Another pause, both look at each other
not knowing what to say] I'll bet too , . . you forgot
all about me soon as you got home last night. Didn't
you?
LUCY [looks at him with shining eyes]: No, I didn't fo'git
about yuh at all, Mist' Russell.
EVANS: Aw, sure you did. You've got a sweetie somewhere
. . . and I don't count at all.
LUCY: No ... I ain't got no boy-friend. If I had, well
... I wouldn't be havin' no dates with anyone
else. . . .
EVANS: Then you're sorry about having had a date
with me?
LUCY: No, I ain't sorry.
74 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
EVANS: Well, you don't seem very glad. . . .
LUCY [her eyes fastened on him in admiration]: Yes. . . .
I'm glad, Mist' Russell. . . .
EVANS [another short pause]: You know, Lucy ... I
was thinking about it last night after I left you. . . .
LUCY: 'Bout what?
EVANS: Oh, well . . . 'bout that money ... I gave
you. . . . [Her eyes drop. Her features take on an ex-
pression of fear] Wait, don't get me wrong. No ... I
don't want you to feel bad. . . . You see ... I
figured that you think because I'm a travelling sales-
man that I'm just like the rest of them. Now don't make
no mistake. . . . I'm not what you would call an angel
but you see. ... I took you first . . . well . . . for
just one of those country-girls . . . and when you said
something about . . . about money . . . well ... I
was sort of surprised and I couldn't understand. . . .
I was kind of disappointed and the like. ... I thought
. . . well, just another one of these. . . . Well, you
know how a feller thinks. . . .
LUCY [depressed]: Yes. . . . I know how they think. . . .
EVANS: . . . But when I got back to my hotel I gave it
some real thinking and that's why I come over to-
day. . . . [LUCY looks up again, hope in her eyes]
... I wanted to talk it over with you and . . . You
see when I asked you for your address, well I was doin'
that-sort of out of habit . . . didn't really mean I was
coming . . . but then . . . later I made up my mind
I would come and have a talk with you about it, if you
. wanted to.
ACT TWO 75
LUCY [almost happy again]: Well what do yuh want tuh
know, Mist' Russell. I'll tell yuh anything yuh like to
know. . . .
EVANS: Well . . . you see ... I mean . . . you
needn't tell me if you don't want to. It's none of my
business. . . .
LUCY [assuringly] : Yuh kin ask me, Russell. . . .
EVANS: Well ... I mean ... do you have to go on
these dates all the time? I mean ... do you have to
. . . with anybody ... for a living . . . ?
LUCY [rises. A slight pause]: Somethin' like that. . . .
EVANS: But you told me you worked in the spinning mills
here . . . ?
LUCY: Jest now and then. That ain't much.
EVANS: Why, don't that pay enough . . . ?
LUCY: No mo'. When times was good . . . we could make
three, fo' dollars a week but now ... I cain't make
mo' 'n a dollar at that. . . . [EVANS is silent. He looks
at her,, his expression is one of extreme compassion]
Yuh think ... I ain't so good . . . don't yuh, Mist'
Russell?
EVANS [firmly. Crosses to her, places his hand on her shoul-
der]: No I don't, Lucy. You bet I don't. I don't blame
you. It's just a damn shame. That's all. It's just a damn
shame! [She looks up at him with worship in her ex-
pression] But when did you begin having these dates?
I mean . . . can't you try to start a sort of new life and
jest fo'get your past — 'cause you . . . well it sho' is a
shame fo' you to ruin you' life thisaway. ... I
mean . . . Oh, I guess I must sound like a lawyer or
76 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
something. I don't know why I ask you all those per-
sonal things. ... I guess it's just curiosity and that
killed a cat. . . . We can talk about something
else. . . .
LUCY: I don't mind tellin' yuh, Mist' Russell. . . .
EVANS [boyishly]: You see, Lucy . . . I guess . . . I sort
of ... well, I guess I do like you and every man wants
to know all about somebody he likes. . . . [She nods,
her eyes shining again.] But ... if you don't want to
talk about it ... just say ... it's none of your durn
business, Russell Evans. And I'll deserve that.
LUCY: Well, I'll tell yuh. ... I don't mind tellin'
yuh. . . . I jest don't know where tuh haid in ...
but after I fust come tuh work in the Henrietta mill, I
met a gal theah . . . and though she was much older
'n me . . . she tuk a likin' tuh me an' began tuh carry
me 'round tuh places an' parties and automobile rides
an' all that. Well, I was jest achin' fo' a li'l fun, workin'
all day in the mill ... an' when Virginia would ask
me tuh go tuh a homebrew party . . . why, I jest
natchurly went along. Well, one time I got all drunk
up an' theah was a boy theah ... he was drunk too
... an' Virginia, she said ... go right ahaid, Lucy
... go on, be a sport ... an' I ... I jest lost my
haid . . . yuh see, Virginia Ross was my only an' best
friend then an' I jest natchurly did every thin' together
with her. . . .
EVANS: Virginia Ross?
LUCY [smiles]: Yes. That's her name. Though sometimes
she calls herself, Mrs. Ross. [EVANS remains quiet.]
ACT TWO 77
Well ... I hope yuh ain't sorry . . . yuh asked fo'
it. Yuh wanted tuh know everythin' 'bout me . . .
now . . . yuh got it. ... [Slight pause. Very anxious
and worried.] Yuh thinkin' I'm jest . . .
EVANS: No. I'm not thinking anything. . . . [Suddenly.]
Say . . . Aren't you that girl. . . . Were you con-
nected with that nigger trial up at Cookesville jest a
li'l while ago . . . ?
LUCY [somewhat apprehensive]: Uh, huh. [Nods her
head.]
EVANS [staring at her with an altered expression]: I
thought I saw your name somewhere ... er ...
Lucy. When you said Virginia Ross ... I suddenly
remembered reading all about it in the papers.
LUCY [sensing his change of feeling]: Yes ... it was in
all the papers last coupla months. . . .
EVANS [a brief pause]: Funny . . . how I suddenly re-
membered it, just from that name. . . . [She remains
silent. She doesn't dare move or even breathe] Well
. . . you know I was in Nashville at that time and
everybody was talkin' about that trial. I was sort of in-
terested and I read about it pretty much. It must have
been terrible for you and your friend, huh? . . . Did
they really do all it said they did to you?
LUCY [very confused]: Cain't we ... cain't we talk
'bout somethin' else, Mist' Russell?
EVANS: Why . . . sure we can. . . . [Embarrassed.
Looks at her, realizes he is staring at her and examines
his watch] Well, I guess it's getting late. I got to be
in Birmingham before it gets too late. . . . You see,
78 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
I've got to look up some customers there early in the
morning. . . .
LUCY: Uh, huh. . . . You're goin' now?
EVANS: I figure I'll just have to. Well . . . [Extends his
hand. She takes it listlessly. . . . ] I sure was glad to
meet you . . . Lucy.
LUCY: Were you?
EVANS: And maybe, sometime, we'll meet again. Huh?
LUCY: I sho' hope we will, Mist' Russell. . . . [He takes
a step toward the door.] I want tuh thank yuh fo* yo'
bounty ... if yuh're sho' yuh don't need 'em.
[Gestures toward the parcel. He waves his hand.]
EVANS: No. ... I don't need them. ... I hope you'll
like them.
LUCY: I know I will. . . . [Her lip trembling.]
EVANS: Well . . . s'long. [Crosses to door.]
LUCY: Good-bye, Mist' Russell. . . . [Biting her lips to
keep from crying]
EVANS [stops at the door. Feels guilty. Hesitates an instant,
then]: Er . . . would yuh like me to kiss yuh good-
bye?
LUCY [wistfully] : I sho' would. . . .
EVANS [crosses to her quickly and kisses her. She stands
there motionless. A slight pause]: Well . . . s'long.
LUCY [trying to find her voice. A bit breathlessly]: Kin I
. . . kin I ask yuh a favor, Mist' Russell?
EVANS: You bet.
LUCY: Will . . . will yuh let me write tuh yuh sometime?
EVANS: You bet. Sure. You write me care of my firm . . .
Wilcox Cotton Goods Company ... no ... you
ACT TWO 79
better make it ... General Delivery, Tulsa . . .
Oklahoma. . . .
LUCY [looks at him, repeats mechanically]: Tulsa, Okla-
homa . . . General Delivery . . . Russell Evans. . . .
EVANS: That's it ... well s'long, Lucy. . . . See you
again. . . .
[Crosses to door and exits. LUCY remains still for a mo-
ment staring at the place EVANS stood in. Then she
turns and notices the parcel and the dresses. She bites
her lip to keep from bursting into tears and slowly
looks about the room with a peculiar, wide-eyed, ter-
rified expression. . . ]
CURTAIN
ACT TWO
SCENE TWO
The negro death-cells in Pembroke Prison. A few days
later.
The prison is modern and new. Downstage, left: a door
leading to the halls outside and opening on the wide
corridor on stage. Upstage of this (left wall) is a wall
running diagonally back to the rear wall touching it
at a point a few feet off center to the left. This wall
contains three or four high barred windows through
which morning sunlight pours in. Only blue sky can
be seen through them. In the rear wall is another
door leading to the electrocution chamber.
To the right of this door the cell-wall begins and runs
diagonally down stage to the extreme right downstage
corner. This wall contains five cells with steel bars
and doors covered with mesh work. Suggested, in the
rear of the cells are windows. The cells are divided
from each other by partitions. Near the corridor door,
a GUARD is seated on a chair. He smokes an old corn-
cob.
In the cells, from stage-left to right are: Cell One:
PURCELL and ROBERTS. Cell two: ANDY and ROY WOOD.
Cell Three: MOORE and WALTERS. Cell four: WARNER
and MORRIS. Cell five: HEYWOOD PARSONS. The prison-
So
ACT TWO 8l
ers are in various positions of sitting., lying on their cots,
standing, facing the bars, etc. Some are quiet, others
whisper to each other. Ordinarily the atmosphere
should be tense but oddly enough . . . the whole
place gives the impression of a nice cold clean refriger-
ator. When the curtain rises there must be a long pause,
quiet and silent.
WARNER: Whut was yuh makin' sech a noise last night
fo', Moore?
MOORE [a deep resonant voice'] : I was havin' a dream. . . .
MORRIS [irritably]: He's allus havin' dreams, that boy.
MOORE: I dreamed of ...
MORRIS: Don't tell us. That boy skeers me to death with
his bad dreams. . . .
MOORE: I dreamed theah was some crows aflyin' over a
corn-field. . . .
MORRIS: C — rows! Didn't I done tell yuh all? Crows an'
buzzards. . . .
WARNER: Shet up theah, Clarence. Let him talk. . . .
MOORE: An' the co'n was nice an' high, maybe six foot
high an' full of ears. [Someone laughs nervously.]
... an' the farmer come along an' he shot at these
heah crows wid his double-barrelled gun . . . an'
some of them crows fall down on the field, wounded
but not all dead. . . .
MORRIS [irritably with just a note of hysteria]: Quit it
theah, boy! Why the hell don't yuh dream of some
watermelon or somethin'?
MOORE: An' the farmer . . he walked over to these
82 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
heah wounded crows an' lo an' behold . . . the crows
was not crows at all but they was little nigger-boys wid
wings . . . li'l nigger-angels. . . .
PURCELL [yelling]: Hi . . . Hi! Stop that talk, Olen . . .
stop it . . . !
[A signal is heard and the GUARD rises and opens the door.
The PRINCIPAL KEEPER, a colored preacher, MR. LOW-
ERY, and a mulatto, WILLIAM TREADWELL, enter.]
PRINCIPAL KEEPER [expansive]: This is wheah we keep
the boys, Mr. Lowery. [He addresses the white man.]
Not so bad, huh?
LOWERY: I think it's a damn fine negro death house, suh.
PRINCIPAL KEEPER [passes a long the cells]: Hi . . . theah.
Wake up, theah. [Activity in the cells] Wake up. Some
friends tuh see yuh all. . . . [He points out the visit-
ors] This heah is the Preacher Jackson and heah is yo'
friend Treadwell who was heah with you yesterday an'
he's brought 'long with him Mist' Lowery, the Bir-
mingham lawyer who's come to help yo' case if he kin
fo' the A. S. U. . . . What do yuh call it, William?
TREADWELL [he is a college graduate and speaks with a
slight affectation]: The A. S. P. C. P. The American
Society for the Progress of Colored Persons.
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: Yeah. An' he's come tuh speak tuh
yuh wid some papers fo' yuh to sign. Now listen tuh
him an' keep yo' ears open 'cause he ain't goin' tuh
say it twice.
TREADWELL [clears his throat] : Well, as you've heard, boys,
this gentleman here is one of the finest attorneys in the
ACT TWO 83
South, and our organization has managed to secure his
able services together with those of Mr. Brady who de-
fended you in Cookesville to try an appeal for you
boys. . . .
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: I don't reckon they kin understand
yuh, William. These heah niggers are pretty young
and dumb. . . .
TREADWELL: Why, I'm sure they understand. [Address-
ing the prisoners.] Don't you, boys?
[No answer.]
PRINCIPAL KEEPER [to MOORE and WALTERS]: Do yuh un-
derstand what this man just said, 'bout an appeal?
WALTERS: No suh. . . .
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: I'm tellin' yuh . . . 't 'aint no use,
Mist' Lowery.
TREADWELL [quickly worried]: An appeal ... is a
chance for a new trial and we can only get that from
the Supreme Court of this state. [To PARSONS.] Do
you understand that?
PARSONS: Sho', I understand yuh. But how yuh goin' tuh
git it?
TREADWELL: Well, you just leave that to Mr. Lowery.
He's the attorney. But I would like to prepare you in
case we don't get it ... do not become discouraged.
We still have another resort and that is the Governor.
PARSONS: Whut he goin' tuh do?
TREADWELL: Well, he can do a great deal for you. He can
have mercy on you and commute your sentences from
death to life imprisonment.
84 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
MORRIS: He kin do that?
TREAD WELL: Yes, that's in his power. But he won't do it
unless he feels you deserve it. Unless he feels that you're
innocent.
PARSONS: Well, if he feels we is innocent then why should
we be gittin' life?
LOWERY [stepping forward]: Now listen heah . . . you
. . . don't ask too many questions. You heard the
Keeper heah tell you as he was too busy to waste much
time ... so shet up an' listen. What we come fo' is
tuh git yo' permission, yo' O. K. that the A. S. P. C. P.
an' I an' Mr. Brady take yo' case to the Supreme Co't
for an appeal. Now we got this heah paper . . .
[Waves it.] . . . an' we want yuh all tuh put yo' names
on it. That's all.
PARSONS: Kin I say somethin', please suh?
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: Go 'haid.
PARSONS: Well, this Mist' Brady was the lawyer fo' us in
Cookesville an' he were no good at all. Fact is ... we
never knowed he was workin' fo' us 'til they tol' us
. . . and that was after the trial.
[Sounds of cor rob oration from other cells]
TREADWELL [trying to stop the voices]: Now, you listen
to me, boys. We've helped many a colored person out
of many a difficulty. And we've been fortunate enough
to find that there are white gentlemen like Mr. Lowery
and Mr. Brady who are willing to go to all sorts of
trouble to help you. . . .
PARSONS: But theah was a white man heah day 'fo yes-
tidy from the No'th who asked tuh help us out. He
ACT TWO 85
said he was from the . . . He wrote it down on a
piece of paper. ... Hi ... you got it theah,
Andy. . . .
ANDY: Yeah ... I got it. ... [Pushes out between the
bars, a small white piece of paper.]
TREAD WELL [takes it and examines it]: The National La-
bor Defence. The N. L. D. [Looks up at the PRINCIPAL
KEEPER worried.]
PARSONS: Yes . . . that's it. The N. L. D.
TREADWELL: Were they here again, sir?
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: Yes, theah was that young Yankee
feller heah a coupla days ago. . . .
TREADWELL [concerned] : What did he say to them?
PRINCIPAL KEEPER [annoyed]: Oh, I don't remember that.
But as I tol* yuh . . . we promised him another chance
wid the boys today.
TREADWELL [v ery concerned, to the prisoners] : What did
he want with you, boys?
ANDY: Well, he said as he was comin' back. Yassuh, he
said as he was likely to be back heah today an' have
papers fo' us tuh sign. Ain't that right, Roy?
ROY: Yes. Tha's right, Andy.
PARSONS: That sho' is. He said fo' us to give his N. L. D.
man a chance to talk wid us befo' we sign anything at
all. . . .
TREADWELL [quickly]: Just a moment, boys. . . . We've
brought with us the Reverend Mr. Wendall Jackson
all the way from Chattanooga to console you and he
will now say a few words for you. . . . [Nods toward
PREACHER.]
86 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
PREACHER [takes from pocket a prayer book and speaks
to them. After a few words he begins unconsciously to
chant rhythmically]: My chillun! I want tuh put the
Lo'd in yuh. I want yuh tuh feel that the Lo'd Almighty
is in us an' is in the great A. S. P. C. P. An* wherever
the Lo'd is, don't yuh feah tuh tread. This N. L. D.
is a contraption of the devil's an' Satan. He sent them
tuh make trouble an' bring down hate an' prejudice
on God's colored chillun. An' I want yuh tuh know
that Mist' Brady who fo't fo' yuh up theah in Cookes-
ville, helped yuh an' fo't fo' yuh 'cause we ministers
come tuh him in Chattanoogie an' made him see that
the Lo'd would reward him with Heavenly love an'
Christian spirit if he would help yo' po' nigger boys.
An' he did! An' he labored fo' yuh up theah in Cookes-
ville an' he didn't lose, my chillun. No! 'Cause if yuh
all is 'lectrocuted an' dies yuh'll all go tuh Heaven sho'
as yuh're born if yuh're sho' yuh ain't had a hand in
this terrible crime. That's my lesson tuh yuh. An' Mist'
Lowery heah who has come tuh help yuh fo' a small
amount, 'cause he feels the Lo'd in him too ... he
is gonna work hard fo' yuh like yo' own mudders an*
fadders would. An' so I bless yuh and warn yuh tuh
fergit that N. L. D. devil's bunch an' sign up with
the blessed A. S. P. C. P. Oh Lo'd, looka down on
these po' misguided nigra chillun an' lead 'em safe
an' holy tuh yo' kin'ly light. Amen, Oh Lo'd. Amen.
[Two or three of the boys murmur reverently: Amen.]
LOWERY: Now yuh heard what the preacher jest said.
Yuh got to sign this paper if you want us to help you.
ACT TWO 87
WALTERS: Kin I ask yuh somethin', Mist' Treadwell?
TREADWELL [kindly]: Yes indeed. . . .
WALTERS: Well, I'd jest love tuh see my mudder. Yuh
know we ain't seen our folkses sence we ben 'rested.
PURCELL: That's right.
ROY: I'd like tuh, too.
[Other voices repeat the same wish.]
ANDY: Cain't yuh do that, please suh?
LOWERY: No . . . no. The jedge wouldn't think of per-
mittin' it. He wouldn't issue no order for sech goin's-on.
TREADWELL: And besides it might only increase the anger
and feeling against you boys. Now we'll pass around
this paper and you boys sign it as best as you can. Is
that all right with you, sir?
PRINCIPAL KEEPER [shrugs] : What do I care? Take the pa-
per around, Ira. [The GUARD takes the paper and pen
from LOWERY and crosses to cell One. ROBERTS takes the
paper and prepares to put his cross on it. PURCELL pokes
him with his elbow and indistinct words are heard
from the cell. The PRINCIPAL KEEPER crosses down,
truculently] Whut's goin' on in heah? What fo' yuh
nudgin' him, Ozie?
PURCELL: I weren't nudgin' him, please suh.
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: Was he nudgin' yuh, Willie?
ROBERTS: Well, I reckon it didn't feel like a tickle. . . .
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: If yuh want tuh sign, go 'haid. If yuh
don't it's all the same tuh me an' I don't keer. But
hurry up.
ROBERTS: I'm signin' it, please suh. [Does so and returns
paper]
88 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: Whut 'bout you, Ozie?
PURCELL: I'm fixin' tuh wait 'til that other feller gits
heah. I'd like tuh heah whut he has tuh say. . . .
TREADWELL [annoyed and impatient]: Well, I'm warn-
ing you, boys. There isn't much time.
PARSONS: We kin wait. We wanna sleep on it awhile.
PRINCIPAL KEEPER [to PARSONS]: You pull yo' mouth in,
Nigger. ... [To MORRIS.] Yuh wanna sign, now?
MORRIS: Yassuh. [Does so.]
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: What 'bout you, Gene?
WALTERS: I reckon I'm follerin' Clarence, please suh. . . .
[IRA hands in paper. He signs]
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: What 'bout you, Charlie?
WARNER: Well ... I dunno, please suh. . . .
TREADWELL: You may not realize it boys, but you are
behaving in an ungrateful way . . . remember your
date of execution is only a short time off and we must
work fast. . . .
WARNER: I'm signin' please suh. . . . I'm signin'. . . .
[IRA gives him the paper]
MOORE: I'll put my cross on ... Mist' Keeper. . . .
[GUARD gives MOORE papers to sign]
PRINCIPAL KEEPER: Who else? [Signal at door] Open up,
Ira. . . .
[He does so. Sound of voices. The WARDEN enters, fol-
lowed by CHENEY, ROKOFF and TRAVERS. PRINCIPAL
KEEPER and GUARDS salute him]
WARDEN [sees LOWER Y]: Why, how do, Mist' Low-
ery. . . . [Grunts "hullo" to PREACHER and TREAD-
ACT TWO 89
WELL.] Meet Attorney General Cheney, Mist' Lowery.
[They shake.] Mist' Rokoff of the N. L. D. from New
York City. . . . Mist' Lowery is one of our best at-
torneys in Birmingham.
ROKOFF [shakes with LOWERY]: Pleased to meet you. . . .
TREAD WELL: I beg your pardon, Warden Jeffries but I
... I thought. . . .
WARDEN [sharply]: What's the matter . . . ?
[TREADWELL confused, looks appealingly to LOWERY.]
LOWERY: Well, Warden, we were almost through heah
with gettin' the boys' signatures and . . .
ROKOFF [firmly]: I was under the impression, Warden
. . . that I would have my opportunity to speak to
the boys. . . .
WARDEN [embarrassed]: Well, gentlemen . . . this mat-
ter of attorneys is not in my jurisdiction, however I
did promise Mist* Rokoff. . . .
TREADWELL: But this is certainly most unusual. . . .
WARDEN [sternly to TREADWELL]: What's that you
said . . . ? [TREADWELL wags his head negatively. To
ROKOFF.] Well, Mist' Rokoff. I guess we got as good a
death-house as any of yourn up No'th, huh?
ROKOFF [looking around]: Pretty nice.
WARDEN [proudly]: This jail ain't mo' than five yeahs
old. Yuh was tuh the openin' weren't yuh, General?
CHENEY: Yes, I remember that opening very well.
WARDEN: You was Attorney General then. Too bad yuh
lost the 'lection. . . .
CHENEY: Oh, I was getting sort of weary of it anyway,
90 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
Warden. I like my peace of mind. . . .
WARDEN [chuckling]: Well . . . you certainly picked a
queer way of gittin' it with this nigger case now. . . .
CHENEY: Oh ... I like to see every human being, black
or white, get a fair deal. This isn't my first colored
case, you know.
ROKOFF: You see, Warden, General Cheney has gener-
ously consented to help us on this case since he has
known some of the boys' parents for a number of
years.
WARDEN: Sho'. Well, Mist' Rokoff, yuh don't have so
many niggers up No'th I reckon. . . .
ROKOFF [smiling amiably]: I don't think so. ...
WARDEN [shrewdly]: Don't yuh . . . smell anythin'
'round heah?
ROKOFF [sniffs]: No. I don't. Why?
WARDEN: I guess you got a Yankee nose. Don't yuh know
theah is a natural smell 'bout niggers?
ROKOFF: There may be ... but I don't smell anything.
WARDEN [with a chuckle]: Sho' yuh don't. This prison has
got one of the finest shower bath systems in the South.
That chases away the smell.
ROKOFF [with a twinkle in his eye]: But if it's a natural
odor, Warden . . . how do you make it disappear?
WARDEN [perplexed]: Ain't I jest told yuh we gives them
baths to chase it away?
CHENEY [tactfully]: Mist' Rokoff is not so familiar with
our ways, Warden Jeffries. . . .
WARDEN [offended]: I was jest tryin' tuh explain our in-
stitution to the gentleman. . . .
ACT TWO Ql
ROROFF: Sure, I appreciate that, Warden. [Smiles pleas-
antly.] Well, can I speak to the prisoners now?
WARDEN: Sho'. Go right ahaid. [Gestures towards the
cells.]
ROKOFF: Would you mind, you see, it's pretty hard to
talk to them this way. Would you mind letting them
out where I could at least see them?
WARDEN [perplexed for the moment]: Yuh mean open
up the doors an' carry 'em out heah?
ROKOFF: Yes, if they're going to be our clients we would
at least like to see what they look like.
WARDEN: Well, I dunno. I ain't never done that yet
with niggers. Whut do you think, General?
CHENEY: I think you could make an exception, Warden.
It cain't do any harm.
WARDEN [slight pause]: All right. I'll do it. [To the
GUARD.] Open up the doors, Ira. An' keep yo' hands
on yo' guns. [IRA begins to open up the doors.] Listen,
niggers . . .jest step outside of yo' cells 'bout two
feet an' stay still in front of them an' don't move.
[The doors are opened and the negroes step out slowly,
almost afraid to do so. They remain standing stiffly in
front of their respective cells.] Go 'haid, Mist' Rokoff,
but please make it quick-like.
ROKOFF: I will, Warden. Thank you very much. You've
been very kind. [He crosses to one of the negroes and
shakes his hand] What's your name, boy?
[WARDEN and CHENEY exchange significant glances.]
ANDY: Andy Wood, please suh.
ROKOFF: And is this your brother? [Points to ROY.]
Q2 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
CHENEY: Er . . . Mist' Rokoff.
[ROKOFF turns. CHENEY beckons to him and crosses half-
way to meet him. He then whispers something to him
and ROKOFF nods, smiling. ROKOFF turns to WARDEN.]
ROKOFF: Excuse me, Warden. I guess I'm not used to
the ways down here.
WARDEN [with a magnanimous gesture]: Oh that's all
right, Mist' Rokoff. It jest ain't done, thassall.
[ROKOFF nods and returns to the prisoners. As he speaks
he paces up and down the line of them, never more
than three feet from them. He speaks rather con-
versationally.]
ROKOFF: Well, boys . . . my name is Joe Rokoff and I'm
the chief attorney for the National Labor Defense, the
N. L. D., the same thing that Mr. Travers spoke to you
about. [Turns to WARDEN.] Do you mind if I smoke,
Warden?
WARDEN: 'Course not. Go right ahaid. I'm about tuh
smoke myself. [Lights a cigar.]
ROKOFF [nods his thanks and takes a cigarette from a
package and lights it. He observes WARNER looking
at the package with an intense expression of desire]:
Would you like to have these?
WARNER: Please suh. . . .
ROKOFF: Here you are. [Extends the package. WARNER
timidly extends his hand.] Go on, take 'em all. [WAR-
NER takes them and pushes them into his shirt-pocket
quickly.] Now boys, you can choose to represent you
anybody you like. That's your right and your privilege.
But before you do that, let me tell you who we are,
ACT TWO 93
what we stand for and what we want to do for you.
[He notices some disturbance between WARNER and
MORRIS.] What is it, fellers? What's the trouble? Don't
you understand me ?
WARNER: Sho'. We understand yuh, suh . . . but this
nigger heah done axes me for some of them cigarettes
an' yuh gave 'em tuh me. . . .
ROKOFF: Well, what of it? Give him some. He's your
friend, isn't he? He likes to smoke, same as you. . . .
[WARNER quickly gives MORRIS a few cigarettes. ROKOFF
continues. From now on there are no serious interrup-
tions and the prisoners all listen very attentively and
become absorbed. The speaker increases his tone and
temper as he goes on until he quite loses himself
and everyone on the stage including the WARDEN and
CHENEY are quite absorbed by the "power of his speech.]
Now, you boys are in a jam but there are a lot of
other fellers, black and white, all over this country
and they're in jams, too. And we're an organization
that tries to get these fellers out and free. Now you
just saw how this boy here . . . [Points to WARNER.]
. . . refused to give his buddy any of those cigarettes
I gave him. You've got to understand right away that
that's the wrong idea to have. Men should stick to-
gether. Now, I'd like to show you what I mean and
how we work. Just suppose there are two men on this
side of me. . . . [He demonstrates with gestures his
meaning.] fighting against a certain thing and they're
being licked. And on this other side, are three men
fighting against almost the same kind of thing and
94 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
they're being beaten, too. But if these two fellers and
these three fellers would get together . . . [He holds
up two fingers on one hand and three on the other.]
. . . then there would be five . . . and nobody could
lick 'em! That's what we work for. You see, up North
and out West and here in the South there are white
workers fighting for liberty and justice and a right to
live happy. And down here in the South you black
workers are fighting for the same thing. But you're
all fighting apart. Now, if you will fight for the white
workers in the North and the South and the East and
West then they'd get together and fight for you black
fellers down here. Now, you know as well as I do that
it's going to be very hard for you boys to get a fair
trial down here. I don't have to tell you that. I can't
fool you with promises and fine words. You know you
didn't get a fair trial in Cookesville.
PARSONS [with feeling]: No, we didn't. . . .
TREADWELL [somewhat excited, unable to contain him-
self]: Listen to me, boys! I'm one of you and God-
willing, I'd like to be darker than I am if that would
help my people. And therefore I want to warn you
against this dangerous N. L. D., this radical organiza-
tion which only wants to use you boys as a cat's paw
to pull their chestnuts out of the fire. You poor chil-
dren are too young to know it but they are about the
worst, insidious group of traitors to this country. . . .
They not only want to spread rebellion and revolt
through your case but they also want to destroy and
ACT TWO 95
ruin the great, benevolent A. S. P. C. P.
WARDEN [to LOWERY, in a low voice]: That high yaller
ain't sech a bad talker.
PARSONS: Well, whut do yuh want tuh do fo' us?
TREAD WELL: We have only one object. One object. And
that is to get you boys a fair trial. We have no ideas of
over-throwing the government as they have.
PARSONS: How . . . how yuh gonna git this fair trial?
TREADWELL [annoyed]: We . . . we will not spare any
effort to protect you from the death penalty. . . .
ANDY: Well. . . . We don't want no lip-talk.
ROKOFF: And I'm not going to give you any lip-talk. I'm
not going to say you're going to get that fair trial that
these high-sounding organizations will try to get. And
you know why you can't get it. You can't get it be-
cause the South wants you to burn. They want to teach
you blacks a lesson, they want to frighten you blacks
with the burned-up bodies of nine negro boys. They
want to make you shut up and keep quiet. They want
to keep the nigger in his place . . . that's why. . . .
And so ... the only thing fair that you'll ever get
will be a fair amount of electric juice to burn you
alive on the chair in there. . . . [Points to door lead-
ing to electrocution chamber.]
LOWERY [striding forward, angrily]: Now, don't you pay
attention to this talk. You better be white man's nig-
gers, or ...
ROKOFF: I object to these interruptions, Warden Jef-
fries.
96 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
WARDEN: Well. . , ,
LOWERY [simultaneous with WARDEN]: But Mr. Jef-
fries. . . .
ROKOFF: I'm an attorney, Warden, and I'd like to finish
what I have to say! . . .
LOWERY [interrupting]: I never heard sech kind o' talk
to niggers. . . .
ROKOFF [with some irony]: But I've heard of Southern
courtesy. . . .
WARDEN: Well, make it quick-like, Mist' Rokoff. . . .
ROKOFF: I will. [To the boys] Now you're thinking if
things are as hard as I say they are, what can be done?
What can the N. L. D. do? I'll tell you what we can
do. First, we'll get the finest lawyers in this country to
fight the courts at their own game . . . but more im-
portant than that, we'll go to the workers of America,
to the workers of the world. We have proof that you're
innocent of these rape charges. We'll show them this
proof. Then we'll say to them: Black and white work-
ers of the world! Workers of America! Down in the
South nine innocent boys are being put to death be-
cause they have black skins. Are you going to stand for
that? And they will answer with a shout that will
ring around the whole worl'd. ... NO. We will not.
Yes, we will force the South and those in the South
who are trying to murder you . . . we will force them
to free you. Yes, they will. They'll be afraid to keep
you, afraid to kill you . . . they'll be afraid of fifteen
million black workers who will stand shoulder to
shoulder with fifty million white workers and who will
ACT TWO 97
roar. . . . Don't you touch those boys! Don't you
dare touch those black children workers . . . !
WARDEN [shaking himself as if to rid himself of a trance
or spell. Then shouting, red with fury]: Stop! Stop
that . . . ! [Strides over to ROKOFF who stops as sud-
denly as if hit by a bullet. He shakes his fist under
ROKOFF'S nose.] Stop! Yuh, yuh cain't stir up no nig-
gers in my jail, suh!
ROKOFF [who has himself been under the spell of his own
oratory. He tries to regain his natural diplomacy]:
Why, excuse me, Warden. You see ... I just forgot
myself. I'm not accustomed to the ways down
here. . . .
WARDEN [spluttering]: Well, sho'. But that ain't no way
to talk tuh niggers. Yuh know that, Mist' Rokoff. . . .
[He cools off a bit]
ROKOFF: You see, I didn't realize ... er. ... But
now . . . how about their parents?
WARDEN: Whut parents?
CHENEY [following a glance from ROKOFF]: Well, I
thought we told you, Warden . . . that we brought
some of the boys' parents and kinfolk to see them. You
know, they've not had a chance to do that sence they
ben arrested.
WARDEN: Oh yes, yuh did tell me. I plumb forgot. . . .
[To ROKOFF jocularly] An' it was your own fault, Mr.
Rokoff. . . . But I'm afraid you'll have tuh have an
order fo' that.
CHENEY [hands him a document]: We have that, Warden
from Judge Townsend over in Cookesville.
98 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
[WARDEN takes it and examines it quickly. Turns to one
of the guards.]
WARDEN: Go down stairs, Cyril, an' bring up them visit-
ors heah. [GUARD crosses to door.] See that they ben
well frisked, first. . . .
CYRIL: Yes suh. [Exits.]
WARDEN: Now, Ira ... you git these niggers locked
up. . . . [IRA proceeds to do so] Git back in yo' cells,
now. Hurry up.
[The negroes re-enter their cells and IRA locks the doors
on them]
ROKOFF: I'd like to say just a few more words to the
boys, Warden. . . .
WARDEN: Well now . . . Mist' Rokoff. Yuh don't want
tuh talk the way yuh did. [Signal outside] How 'bout
after the visitors leave? [ROKOFF nods. WARDEN to IRA.]
Open up, Ira. [He does so. About ten negro MEN and
WOMEN enter, timidly. Most of them are elderly.]
Now folks . . . I'm willin' tuh give yuh two minutes
tuh see yo' chillun but please don't go too near tuh
them. Ira, show these heah persons to the correct
cells.
MRS. PARSONS: Yuh don't have tuh show us, please suh.
We know our own chillun good 'nuff. . . .
WARDEN: Okay. Go 'haid. [The parents hurry to the
proper cells like homing pigeons. They talk excitedly
to their children] Now stan' back theah . . . folks.
Don't go too close. Stan' back. [The ATTORNEYS look
on sympathetically. CHENEY chats with the WARDEN
who holds his watch in hand.} Tha's enough now.
ACT TWO 99
Time is up. All out now. . . .
[The parents begin to leave and as they do so, they call
parting advice to their sons.]
MRS. PARSONS: Good-bye, Hey wood, an' God bless yuh.
Don't give up yo' hope, an' keep a-lookin' at the
Lo'd. . . .
MRS. WOOD: Don't worry, my chillun . . . we got the
N. L. D. wid us. ...
MRS. PURCELL: Don't fo'git tuh pray, Ozie. . . .
MRS. WILLIAMS: Yes, pray . . . chile. Pray fo' yo' life
an' fo' the blessed N. L. D.
WARDEN: Come 'long. Tha's enough now. All out. All
out. [Finally all the visitors are out and the guard
closes the corridor door.] Yuh wanted tuh say some-
thin', Mist' Rokoff . . . ?
ROKOFF: If you'll permit me, Warden. . . . [Pleasantly]
WARDEN: Sho'. But careful-like, huh?
ROKOFF: Of course. Thank you. [Takes paper from
TRAVERS and approaches nearer to the cell-doors.
Walks up and down in front of them so that all the
boys can see and hear him] Now I want to ask you if
you want to sign this paper which will make us your
defense attorneys. Remember ... I didn't bring
your fathers and mothers these many hundreds of
miles to see you because I wanted to buy you with
that. No. If I wanted to do that I would have brought
them in first. But I didn't do that. First I wanted you
to hear and understand who and what we are. And
even if you turn us down and choose this other or-
ganization we will still bring your folks to see their
1OO THEY SHALL NOT DIE
children. Now you do what you think is right. You say
no to us, or yes. But whatever you say, we'll always
be on your side and fight for you. Now your parents
have signed this paper and they all want us to rep-
resent you. But it's up to you, anyway. If you say you
don't want us ... we'll step out. We'll be sorry but
we'll step right out.
[A pause. ROKOFF looks around. He is unable to see
through the close mesh the faces of the negro boys.
Worried, anxious. What will they decide?]
WARDEN [stepping forward a bit]: Well niggers, yuh
heard both sides now. What do yuh want to do? Who
do yuh want tuh have tuh represent yuh?
MORRIS: Well suh. . . . We know yuh want tuh help
us ... but I figger we bet' stick tuh our own color
... an' the Preachers. . . .
[A pause. ROKOFF searches the inscrutable celldoors.
Worried, anxious, tense]
ANDY [suddenly]: Kin we talk it all ovah, Mist' Warden,
please suh?
WARDEN [turns and hesitates, then . . . ]: Huh? Well, I
reckon so. Let 'em talk it ovah, Ira. But not so
loud. . . .
LOWERY: Well, listen heah, Treadwell, I can't be comin'
heah every time from Birmingham. . . .
TREADWELL: Why of course not . . . ! I hope you under-
stand, boys, that Mr. Lowery's time is very valuable
and my own time is quite taken up too . . . and I
hope you will not make us regret the expense and
trouble we have made ourselves to help you. . . v'.
ACT TWO 101
ROKOFF: Don't worry, fellers . . . it's okay . . . take
your time, talk it over . . . another day won't hurt.
But I'll be waiting right here in town for your an-
swer . . . and if you want us I'll come up here with
the Commissioner of Deeds of this prison to witness
your signatures so that nobody can say we forced
you to sign. ... So long and good-luck.
[He crosses to exit talking with CHENEY and TRAVERS. He
exits, followed by LOWERY arguing with TREADWELL
and the PREACHER. WARDEN exits last. The GUARD shuts
the door and seats himself. There is a brief pause.]
ANDY: Whut did yuh wanna go an' sign that fo', Clar-
ence?
MORRIS: Well, I figger if a preacher tells me tuh sign then
I bet' sign. It cain't be bad, Andy.
ANDY: Hmm. Well, I wouldn't trust 'em preachers too
far. They lookin' out for themselves most the
time. . . .
PURCELL: Sho'. Whut they got tuh lose? They got warm
seats an' gittin' in money. . . .
ROBERTS: Yeah . . . but they do git along wid the white
folk purty good, Ozie. That show they gits respec'
'cose the Lo'd's in 'em.
PARSONS: Then whut fo' them preachers didn't come tuh
see us onct up in Cookesville?
ROBERTS: That's so, Andy.
PURCELL: Sho'. They cain't help us. Preachers on'y nig-
gers themselves.
MORRIS: An' whut 'bout this A. S. P. . . . this colored
Company? Whut 'bout that, Andy?
102 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
ANDY: Well, I dunno' 'bout dat. But I don't perticilar
keer fo' that high yaller . . . Mist' Treadwell. He's
too slick fo' me. An' I cain't hardly understan' his talk.
Huh! Maybe he ain't even a nigger.
PURCELL: Yeah. I didn't like dat 'bout him wishin' his
skin was blacker. Did yuh done ketch dat?
PARSONS: We sho' did. An' if yuh keer whut I say, I'd
ruther go wid dat Yankee lawyer from the N. L. D. I
ain't so hot fo' havin' that Mist' Brady agin. Every-
body in Chattanoogie knows he was in the crazy-
house twict. Ain't that so, Andy?
ANDY: Sho'. Folk say he went crazy ev'ry week from too
much co'n.
WARNER: Well, I'm fo' stickin' tuh our own color an'
takin' up wid this high yaller's company. Yuh wid
me, Willie?
ROBERTS: Yeah. . . . I'm wid yuh, Charlie. Stick tuh yo'
own people. Them's good talk.
MORRIS: I'm wid yuh too. I liked that preacher. He
talked fo' the Lo'd.
PARSONS: Who wid me?
ANDY: That No'th'n man sho' kin talk like hell an' if
he kin talk thataway right in front o' dat Warden den
he ain't no white-liver an' he kin save us. So I'm wid
yuh, Heywood.
ROY: Me too. . . .
PARSONS: Whut 'bout you, Gene?
WALTERS: Well my mudder allus tought me tuh feah the
Lo'd, Heywood.
MORRIS [triumphant]: He wid us! An' you, Olen Moore!
ACT TWO 103
Who you wid?
MOORE: I'm on top o' de fence, chillun. Who git mo',
them I goes wid.
PARSONS [after a brief pause. In a low voice with sup-
pressed feeling]: Listen tuh me, you niggers! When
we asked that high-yaller if we could see our kin-folk,
he said, we couldn't. But this man . . . from the
No'th, he didn't wait to be asked. No suh! He knowed
we wanted tuh see our mudders an' fadders an' he
didn't wait a bittie. He jest brought 'em long wid
himself. An' listen tuh me, you niggers! Yuh all purty
dumb. Maybe yuh don't understan' his talk. But it
'peared tuh me he was talkin' our own language an*
I understood ev'ry word he say. An' he say a-plenty!
He ain't no yaller-belly tuh sell us out. Lo'd A'mighty
. . . when he talked I felt jest as strong as a bull. I
felt I could bust open these heah bars. An' I'm a-tellin'
yuh all dat I don't keer if Gawd or the debbil or the
N. L. D. saves me, I wanna be saved. An' this heah
man kin do dat. . . . Yes right down heah in the
South. So I say tuh yuh all ... Sign up! Sign up,
niggers, befo' he gits angry an' changes his min' wid
us dumb bastards.
ANDY: Yeah. We sign. We sign wid the N. L. D. . . .
ROY: Me too. . . >
WARNER: Right. The N. L. D. Sign up, niggers. . . .
MORRIS: Count me too, Heywood. . ,-.-'-.
ALL [together]: We sign. The N. L. D. Sign up. Right.
Sho'. Sign, sign, sign. . .V
WARNER [with fervor]: The Lo'd be wid us an' the
104 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
N. L. D. Come on, Olen. Sing us somethin' fo* the
Lo'd tuh heah us. ...
MORRIS: Sing dat Gabriel's trumpet, Olen. . . .
WARNER: Yeah . . . throw us down that trumpet, Ga-
briel . . . !
ANDY: Go on, Olen. It do my heavy heart good. . . .
MOORE [sings]:
Oh, han' me down, throw me down. . . .
Han* me down a silver trumpet, Gabriel.
Oh, han' me down, throw me down. . . .
Anyway yuh git it down. . . .
Han' me down a silver trumpet, Gabriel.
If religion was a thing money could buy,
Han' me down a silver trumpet, Gabriel. . . .
Oh, the rich would live an' the po' would die. . . .
Han' me down a silver trumpet, Gabriel.
So, han' me down, throw me down. . . .
Han' me. . . .
PARSONS [his hands gripping the bars; with intense feel-
ings]: Dat's it! You heerd dat, niggers. If religion was
a thing money could buy. . . . [Singing continues.]
. . . You heerd dat? . . . Well it do. It do. . . . It
do buy it. ... [Singing continues.] . . . the po'r
would die. . . . [Singing] ... NO. ... No, nig-
gers! We ain't gonna die. No. No. . . . NO. . . .
NO!
[Singing continues]
CURTAIN
ACT TWO
SCENE THREE
Same scene as Scene One of Act Two. The home of
LUCY WELLS. It is many months later. The room hasn't
changed much at all. In fact it looks even more
miserable and smaller than before. It is about noon-
time. The screen door in the rear has been replaced
with the regular wooden one and this is closed. The
window too, is lacking its screen. The stove is burn-
ing. The season is cold.
LUCY is lying on the couch down left and one sees at first
glance that she is just recovering from an illness. She
wears a shawl about her shoulders and a woman's
cloth coat over her feet and lies . . . staring dully
ahead of her. Her MOTHER is seated at the table finish-
ing her lunch. On it are some dishes, a coffee-pot, a
loaf of bread and a wrapped paper parcel containing
ironed laundry.
MRS. WELLS [drinking her coffee]: Yuh oughta eat some-
thin', Lucy. . . .
LUCY: I don't want nuthin', Maw.
MRS. WELLS: Yuh jest goin' tuh kill yo'self, not eatin' an'
sulkin' 'round. Why, yuh goin' tuh git sick agin if
yuh carry on thataway. . . .
105
106 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
LUCY [wearily] : Lemme 'lone, Maw.
MRS. WELLS: Heah yuh is, jest gittin' well, after yuh
almost went an' died, an' now yuh tryin' tuh git down
agin. . . .
LUCY [slowly]: Maybe it were better, if I done died. . . .
MRS. WELLS [shocked]: Whut's that? Lucy, you is crazy
as a loon. . . .
LUCY [turns to her mother, pleadingly]: Whut I got tuh
live fo' . . . Maw?
MRS. WELLS [annoyed]: Now, you shush up. A gal of
eighteen shouldn't talk thataway. Why yuh got yo'
hull life 'haid of yuh. Me, I should talk that way
maybe. I got nuthin' ahaid but misery an' worries.
But I'm livin' fo' my chillun. Oh . . . many the time
I done think tuh end it all ... [Sobbing] tuh stop
this turrible misery an' workin' fo' nuthin' but bread
an' water. But I allus think of my po' chillun, growin'
up without a mother. An' then Gawd, He wouldn't
take me tuh Him. No, theah ain't no place in His
Heaven fo' him who takes his own life. [LUCY being
silent, she ceases and sighs. A brief pause] Lucy!
LUCY: Yes, Maw. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Tommy done tell me, yuh had that nigger
lad in heah, from next door last evenin' an' yuh done
give him a letter. . . .
LUCY: Uh huh.
MRS. WELLS: Well, I would like tuh know 'bout that let-
ter. But yuh know, yuh want tuh be keerful 'bout
havin' a nigger boy in heah at all.
ACT TWO 107
LUCY [somewhat irritated]: Oh, don't be talkin', Maw.
I left the door wide open an' he were only heah two
minutes and Tommy were right heah too. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Well, whut kin' of letter was that?
LUCY: Jest a letter. . . .
MRS. WELLS [sternly]: Lucyl Yuh tell me who that letter
is fo' an' whut yuh wrote. . . .
LUCY: It was fo' that Mist' Evans. He's at the hotel in
town. Least he was yest'day. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Mist' Evans . . . ?
LUCY: Yes. That young sales feller who was heah that
time. The one who give me them dresses. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Well . . . ?
LUCY: Well, I jest wrote tuh him, thassall.
MRS. WELLS: Well, why didn't yuh post it, 'stead of
sendin' it with that nigger-boy?
LUCY [weary of all these interrogations]: 'Cause it
wouldn't be delivered in time. An' then I don't trust
that post-office man an' 'cause I didn't have no money
fo' a stamp an' didn't want tuh ask yuh. . . . That's
why. Now, lemme 'lone, Maw.
MRS. WELLS: Hmmm. [Crosses to kitchen with coffee-pot
and things. Pauses on way and turns.] Well, is that
Mist' Evans comin' over heah?
LUCY: No, he ain't comin'. He got that letter las' night.
I waited up till early mawnin' but he didn't come. I
guess he must have left town already. . . . [Her lip
trembles.]
MRS. WELLS: Hmm. I see. . . . [Exits into kitchen. LUCY
108 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
lies still, her eyes filled with tears. MRS. WELLS enters.]
I reckon yuh sort of stuck on that boy . . . huh,
Lucy?
LUCY: Uh huh.
MRS. WELLS: Well ... he must have fo'gotten all about
yuh. It's sech a long time . . . ain't it?
LUCY: I wrote tuh him twice. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Well . . . ?
LUCY: Nuthin'.
MRS. WELLS [she looks at her daughter, with pity]: Now,
don't yuh take on, honey. All men are like that. . . .
LUCY [staring ahead, dully]: No, it were my own fault. I
tol' him about that Cookesville thing an' that cooled
him off, I guess. . . .
MRS. WELLS [impatient]: Well, whut did yuh go an' do
that fo'?
LUCY [wearily]: Oh, he'd a found out by himself, any-
way. . . . [Suddenly cries] I sho' made a mess of my
life. . . .
MRS. WELLS [sits by her and caresses her]: It ain't yo'
fault, Lucy. You couldn't help that train thing hap-
penin'. . . .
LUCY [turns suddenly. With feeling]: But I could have
helped it, Maw. I could. That damn rotten Virginia
Ross put me up tuh it. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Huh? Whut yuh sayin'?
LUCY [she speaks as if what she has to say could not be
held back a moment longer. It pours out of her]: I
... I cain't sleep nights. That's why I got so sick.
I'm all run down with thinkin' of it. Thinkin' of
ACT TWO 10g
them po' nigger kids, goin' tuh burn any day on that
'lectric chair. I dream. ... I dream of them screamin'
an' yellin' in pain. ... I see myself, always lightin'
fires an' helpin' tuh burn them. . . . [She sobs bit-
terly.]
MRS. WELLS [frightened]: When is they set tuh die, any-
way?
LUCY: I dunno. I'm skeered tuh read the papers any
mo'. I shy 'way from them. [Breaking out again]
Every time . . . every time I see one of 'em black
boys on the street, I think I'm back in the Cookes-
ville co't house agin ... an' how them po' kids
looked theah . . . skeered like a treed rabbit . . .
all full of swellin's an' bruises from the beatin's they
give 'em in the jail. . . .
MRS. WELLS: How do yuh know they beat 'em?
LUCY: How do I know? I heard them. I still hear 'em
screamin' fo' pain. . . .
MRS. WELLS: But it weren't yo' fault . . . my baby. ,. .
Yuh couldn't do nuthin'. . . .
LUCY: I could. . . . [She is literally trembling with emo-
tional stress. She is almost hysterical] I didn't have
tuh listen tuh that bitch of a Virginia Ross ... an'
she's still workin' steady at the mill. . . .
[There is a knock on the door and MRS. WELLS rises,
makes a gesture of silence to LUCY and calls. . . .]
MRS. WELLS: Come in. ... [The door opens and MR.
NELSON and a CONSTABLE enter] Oh how you, Mist'
Nelson? How do ... Constable . . . ?
NELSON: How you, Mrs. Wells. . . . [Stands at the
110 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
door.] Is Lucy 'round? We'd like tuh have a li'l word
with her. . . .
MRS. WELLS: She's right heah. . . . [Gestures to couch.
LUCY sits up after wiping her eyes.] Tho' she's still
feelin' bad-like. Yuh know she was ailin' fo' the last
coupla weeks. . . .
NELSON [crossing down a few steps]: How you, Miss
Lucy. Glad tuh see yuh feelin' better. . . .
LUCY: Yuh want tuh talk with me, Mist' Nelson?
NELSON: Yes ... if yuh don't mind . . . [Turns to
MRS. WELLS.] ... an' if it's all the same tuh yuh, Mrs.
Wells, we'd jest like tuh see Miss Lucy alone. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Well, I got tuh be gettin' off to Mrs. Fred-
ericks' laundryin' anyway . . . but if it's at all se-
rious, I'll wait outside. . . .
NELSON: No, it ain't nuthin' serious, Mrs. Wells. Nuthin'
important. Yuh kin run along an' Lucy kin tell yuh
all about it, later. . . .
MRS. WELLS: Well, if yuh sho' it ain't nuthin' impo'tant
. . . [Takes up her coat and the parcel of laundry]
'Cause Mrs. Fredericks'll raise hell a-plenty if I'm late
agin. [Crosses to LUCY and kisses her on the forehead]
Now don't fo'git tuh take yo'self somethin' tuh eat.
I left yo's on the stove in the kitchen. Well, good-bye,
Mist' Nelson, awful pleased tuh see yuh again. . . .
[She crosses to door] An' if Mrs. Nelson has any special
laundryin' tuh do, theah ain't no reason she cain't give
it tuh me, 'stead of tuh some nigger woman, huh?
NELSON: Sho'. I'll speak tuh her, ma'am. [She smiles
pleasantly to him and the CONSTABLE and exits] Now,
ACT TWO 111
Miss Lucy ... I'd like yuh tub do somethin' fo' us
... if yuh don't mind.
[He nods significantly to CONSTABLE who exits and re-
mains outside, where he can be seen through the
window.]
LUCY: Yes . . . ?
NELSON: Well, theah was a nigger crap game over near
the railroad last evenin' an' some of the bucks started
a li'l rumpus and cut each other up a bit. We co't
a coupla — two — three an' when we went over them fo'
razors an' things, we found this letter on one of them.
. . . [Takes a letter from his pocket and shows it to
her.]
LUCY [frightened, staring at it]: Then he didn't carry it
wheah I tol' him . . . ?
NELSON: No. We tuk it 'way from him. He said it was fo'
a Mist' Evans over at the hotel . . . that right?
LUCY: Uh huh.
NELSON: Well, we called up the hotel but he weren't
theah. He was out drummin' business in Fullerton.
So we called up this mawnin' agin and he was agin
out. . . .
LUCY [anxiously]: Has he left . . . town . . . ?
NELSON: Well, I dunno. That ain't so impo'tant. We left
word fo' him tuh call us if he comes back. However
we called long-distance tuh Cookesville early this
mawnin' an' spoke tuh the state solicitor theah, Mist'
Luther Mason. Yuh know him?
LUCY: Yes, I know him all right.
NELSON: We read yo' letter tuh him an' he was mighty
112 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
sorry tub heah it. He said if yuh was goin' tuh write
letters like that, with this new trial comin' up soon
. . . yuh would git things balled up fo' him.
LUCY [sullenly]: Whut do I keer fo' him?
NELSON: Now, Lucy ... I want tuh tell yuh, 'cause I
know yuh as a kid, yet, that yuh are puttin' yo'self
in fo' a lot of grief, if yuh keep on writin' sech kin' of
talk. Why, you might be 'rested fo' perjury.
LUCY: Whut's that?
NELSON: Perjury? That's when yuh sweared at that
Cookesville trial tuh tell the truth an' now you're
writin' somethin' different. . . . [LUCY is silent] Now,
this Luther Mason ain't sech a bad sport. He realizes
yuh must have ben drunk or somethin' when yuh
wrote this letter. . . .
LUCY: I weren't drunk. I ben sick fo' two weeks in
bed. . . .
NELSON: Well . . . that's fine. That's still better. Yuh
ben in fever an' didn't know whut yuh were doin'. . . .
LUCY [heatedly]: I did, too. . . .
NELSON: Now, hoi' on. Don't lose yo'self. Lemme finish
whut I got tuh say. Mist' Mason dictated over the
phone tuh me an affidavit fo' yuh tuh sign. . . . [He
takes a paper from his pocket.} As sayin' how yuh
didn't know yo' own min' when yuh wrote that letter
an' how it ain't true whut yuh wrote theah. An' he
asked me tuh have yuh sign this right away. He's
comin' 'long down heah tuh Humbolt by the evenin'
train tuh see yuh himself an' talk tuh yuh 'bout it.
LUCY [on the point of tears}: I won't sign nuthin'. An'
ACT TWO 113
I don't want tuh talk tuh that Mason man.
NELSON: Lucy. Yuh don't keer tuh be 'rested, do yuh?
LUCY: Who's goin' tuh do that?
NELSON: I'll have tuh do that, I'm afraid. . . .
LUCY: But I'm still ailin', Mist' Nelson. . . .
NELSON: I'm mighty sorry, but them's my orders. [She is
silent, sullen. He thinks of a new tactic.] Yuh know
very well, Lucy . . . that I never said anything all
the while when I see yuh on the street an' in front of
the hotel . . . yuh know I allus turn my haid. . . .
[She nods, slowly.] Well, you'll not look fo' trouble
an' sign this heah paper, like a smart gal. Huh?
LUCY [a slight pause, then wearily]: I guess so. ...
NELSON: That's a smart gal. . . .
[Crosses to table and prepares the paper and pen. She
crosses phlegmatically to it]
LUCY [looks at paper]: Right heah?
NELSON: Yeah. Wheah the li'l cross is, yeah . . . right
theah. . . . [Bends over her. She signs] That's fine.
[Takes up the paper, waves it slowly] That shows yuh
as a smart gal, Lucy. Well, we'll be runnin' long
now. [Folds up and puts away the paper] An' I'd
keep a tight lip on all this if I were you. . . . [She
nods, slowly] Well, good-bye. Hope you're on yo' two
feet right soon. . . .
[She nods mechanically and he exits. She remains by
the table staring dully at the door, then suddenly
breaks into tears. She buries her head in her arms,
crying with painful, convulsive sobs. The door is flung
open in a moment and TOMMY rushes in slamming the
114 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
door behind him. He runs across the room on his way
to Kitchen, when he notices LUCY at the table. He
stops.]
TOMMY: Whut's a matter, Lucy? Huh? [She doesn't an-
swer.] Tell Maw I'm goin' downtown wid Freddie.
. . . [He hurries into Kitchen and returns immedi-
ately with an old lathe almost as big as himself. It has
a short cross-piece tied on to one end so that it re-
sembles a sword. He waves it as he crosses to outside*
door.] This is fo' that li'l nigger bastard if he gits
fresh. . . . [He stops suddenly.] Whut's a matter,
Lucy? [She remains silent. He gestures with disdain.]
Aw, whut the hell do I keer . . . ?
[Exits. His voice and FREDDIE'S are heard running off.
A pause. LUCY is still in the same position, when a
knock on the door is heard. She raises her head and
calls in a matter-of-fact voice.]
LUCY: Come in, please. [The door opens and RUSSELL
EVANS is seen. He enters. LUCY rises surprised and con-
fused.] Oh . . . how do. How you, Mist' . . . Mist'
Russell . . . ?
EVANS [somewhat at a loss as to what to say]: I'm all
right. [Crosses down to her.] How are you, Lucy? [He
shakes her hand.]
LUCY [trying to control her excitement]: Jest so. I've ben
sick-like. But if I'd a knowed you was comin', I
would've fixed up a bit. . . .
EVANS: Oh, that's all right. . . . [They stare at each
other, embarrassed.]
LUCY: Set yo'self down, please ... if yuh like. . . .
ACT TWO 115
EVANS: I'll stand. But you better sit. [She does so. He
looks at her for a brief pause, then . . . ] I passed by
here a few minutes ago and saw you had some visitors,
so I drove around town a bit. . . . [She is silent, wait-
ing.] Wasn't that the . . . law here?
LUCY: Uh huh.
EVANS: It seems that they . . . that your Sheriff here
was looking for me last night. I was away in Fullerton
seeing some customers. But I phoned up a while ago
and ... I ... I heard you wrote me a letter. . . .
LUCY: Yes, I did.
EVANS [rather tongue-tied]: Well . . . what was all the
fuss over? I mean why they called me up. What was in
the letter . . . ?
LUCY: Oh, nuthin'. . . .
EVANS: Nothing? Well, there must have been some-
thing. . . .
LUCY [a brief pause]: Why . . . why didn't yuh answer
my letters I sent yuh tuh Tulsa, Mist' Russell . . . ?
EVANS: Oh . . . those letters . . . [Guiltily.] Well, I
don't know . . . you see, I felt kind of bad . . .
kind of . .... v
LUCY: Yuh mean . . . 'bout . . . 'bout that Cookesville
thing?
EVANS: Yes . . . that's it. [A pause] But what was it
you wrote me last night? Don't yuh want to tell me?
LUCY: Yes, I'll tell yuh. . . . [Swallows; it is hard for
her to speak] I wrote yuh that . . . that them nigger
boys didn't do that at all, whut I said they did at the
trial. ... I wrote yuh that the polices skeered me
Il6 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
... an' I made up that story on them boys. . . .
EVANS [amazed]: You wrote me that?
LUCY: Yes, I did.
EVANS: Well, why did you want to write me, that?
LUCY: I wrote it tuh you, cause my heart was hurtin'
me . . . and I wanted tuh tell it tuh someone . . .
'cause I hated myself fo' it, ever sence that trial an'
couldn't sleep at night an' was 'shamed of myself an'
got sick fer worryin'. . . .
EVANS [becoming a little warmer to her]: Well, why
didn't you write it to me before in your other letters?
LUCY: I would 'ave ... if you'd a answered one. I
ben tryin' tuh write it tuh yuh an' jest couldn't . . .
cause yuh didn't write back an' I was skeered of the
law, but last evenin' when I learned yuh was back in
town, I made up my mind to write yuh the whole
truth. . . .
EVANS: Uh huh. [He looks at her, sympathetically for
the first time since he entered the room.] But how did
you know I was in town?
LUCY: Well, I asked the hotel man, after I didn't git no
answer from yuh, to please let me know when yuh
did git tuh town . . . an' he sent around his boy
yest'day an' that's how I learned it.
EVANS [slowly]: You mean . . . even after I kept quiet
to your letters, you still wanted to see me . . . ?
LUCY: Sho', I wanted tuh see yuh. I jest hoped yuh would
come back, an' I talked tuh Mist' Fredericks an' asked
him if yuh would be 'round sellin' agin, an' he said
. . . yuh might . . . an' so I didn't give up hopin'
\
ACT TWO 117
tuh see yuh jest once mo'.
EVANS [with his desire to know, he loses what little veneer
of worldliness he does possess and is very much the
boy]: Why . . . why, Lucy?
LUCY: Well, 'cause you're 'bout the only one in the world
that I ever keered fo' . . .
EVANS [the boy looks at her, he is almost embarrassed
by her simplicity and sincerity; then slowly]: You
mean . . . that you're in love with me . . . ?
LUCY [smiles wistfully, hoping for him to understand
her] : Well, I don't know 'bout love, Mist' Russell, but
I do know I never keered fo' nobody else but you in
my hull life. . . .
EVANS [pretending not to believe her. He delights in
hearing this]: You don't mean that with all those fel-
lers you've been out with, you never liked one of
them more than me . . . ?
LUCY [simply]: No ... I never liked none of them at
all. Not like I do you. . . .
EVANS: Well . . . [Smiles helplessly.] . . . if you're sure
you mean it. ... [He looks at her. Then suddenly
takes her by the shoulders and embraces her. He kisses
her.] I like you, too, Lucy. And I'm happy to know
that all that Cookesville mess isn't true about you. It
isn't, is it?
LUCY [almost breathless]: No . . . they never touched
us at all.
EVANS: I hope you're not just saying this for me. . <>
LUCY: It's Gawd's own truth, Mist' Russell. . . .
EVANS: Would you swear to it if . . . ?
Il8 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
LUCY [quickly]: Yuh know I wouldn't lie tuh yuh. . . .
I'll swear it by the Lo'd A'mighty an' I don't keer if
the law do git me fo' it ... or what people say of
me. . . .
EVANS [a slight pause; admiringly]: I believe you . . .
Lucy. But do the people around here talk much? [She
nods] Do they make you feel ashamed?
LUCY: 'Shamed? Why, I cain't even hold up my haid. . . .
EVANS: You poor kid. . . . [A slight pause] You've had
to go through a hell of a lot, haven't you? [Another
pause] You've got such lovely eyes. . . . [She smiles
at him, almost crying for happiness] You know I'm
sho' I like you. . . . [Slight pause] You know Lucy
... I feel I'd like to take care of you and protect
you from all these damn rubber-necks and sheriffs.
. . . [She looks at him, her eyes shining] Listen . . .
would, would you go away with me?
LUCY [not comprehending]: Huh?
EVANS: Would you do that?
LUCY [her heart in her throat] : Where?
EVANS [excitedly] : To Tulsa, to St. Louis, anywhere I go.
LUCY: I would, Mist' Russell. I would go anywhere at
all with yuh, but I'd be awful skeered. . . .
EVANS: Of what?
LUCY: Well, you saw the Constable an' the law heah. . . .
[He nods] They came heah with a paper fo' me tuh
sign. . . .
EVANS: What for?
LUCY: 'Bout that letter I wrote tuh yuh. They wanted me
tuh swear that I was drunk an' didn't know what I was
ACT TWO IIQ
doin' when I wrote it. ...
EVANS: Did you sign it?
LUCY: Yes, I did. I was feelin' so tired then, an' gived up
hope you was comin'. . . . But if I'd a knowed you
was comin' ... I woulda died 'fo' I signed anythin'.
EVANS: Well, what are you afraid of?
LUCY: Yuh see, they phoned the state solicitor at Cookes-
ville, an' he's comin' down heah tuh Humbolt tonight
tuh talk tuh me. . . .
EVANS: Well . . . ?
LUCY [with fear]: He might try tuh 'rest me if I wanted
tuh leave town with you. . . .
EVANS [angrily]: He will like hell! He'll have a fine chance
tryin' to do that. Now, looka here, Lucy. I want you
to leave this damn place with me. I'll take care of you
from now on. You won't have to fear nothing, no more.
. . . Don't you forget that. . . . [He holds her tightly
to him]
LUCY: I won't fo'git it, Mist' Russell. . ,V
EVANS: Now, you cut out the Mister. I'm just Russ . . L
I'm your Russ. Do you understand that? [She nods,
holding tightly to him] And no law, no solicitor is
goin' to trouble you from now on. Now, do you feel
strong enough to do some travelling by automobile?
LUCY: What, now?
EVANS: Sure. Right now. This minute.
LUCY: I feel strong with you, Russell. . . . [She is all
excited and can hardly speak]
EVANS [with determination]: Then get your things
packed.
120 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
LUCY [moves toward her room]: I haven't but a coupla
old dresses. . . .
EVANS: Then leave them here. We'll get you some new
ones. Take your coat, though. It'll be cold, going fast.
. . . This it? [Points to her coat on the couch that she
had used to keep her warm. She nods quickly. He
crosses to it and hurrying back, helps her into it.] Come
on, let's go. My grip is in the car, and that's right
around the corner. Think you can make it?
LUCY: I sho' can, Russ.
EVANS: Well, let's go, Lucy. [His arm about her, they take
a few steps toward the door. Suddenly he stops.] Don't
you . . . maybe you'd like to say good-bye, huh?
Maybe I have no right to drag you off like this . . . ?
LUCY [a short pause. She turns and looks about the room,
slowly, almost with an air of abstraction, then turns
back to EVANS]: No, Russ ... I got nuthin' tuh say
good-bye tuh. . . .
[With EVANS' arm about her, they exit rapidly.]
CURTAIN
ACT THREE
ACT THREE
SCENE ONE
A few weeks later in the office of NATHAN G. RUBIN in
New York City. His private office is seen. In the rear
is a large draped window overlooking the Battery
and its skyscraper towers. Directly in front of the
window: a magnificent modern desk. Left: a door
leading to the outside offices. Inset bookcases in the
walls which are panelled with rich dark wood. Thick
rugs, leather armchairs and couch. Inter-office tele-
phone on desk. It is about noon.
Seated at the desk is RUBIN smoking a curved stem pipe.
In one of the leather chairs is VICKY SALVATINL, smok-
ing a cigar. At his side on a modern end-table: a high-
ball glass. JOHNNY, RUBIN'S small and dapper secre-
tary is mixing the drinks at a concealed place formed
in one of the bookcases.
There is an air of luxury combined with efficiency. The
conversation between attorney and client is easy,
fluent and friendly.
SALVATINI [drinks, then in familiar New Yorkese]: No,
Nate. I ain't worried. But we're all dependin' on ya.
So what the hell . . . ?
RUBIN [quietly]: What do you mean, what the hell?
123
124 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
SALVATINI: Nottin'. Only you must link we guys get the
dough from trees. . . .
RUBIN [casually]: I don't give a damn where you get it,
Victor.
SALVATINI: Sure, but have a heart. Have a heart. These
are bad times, Nate.
RUBIN [pretending annoyance]: Do you think your pal
Freddie up the river is interested in bad times or good
times? He's interested to know one thing. If you guys
are going to stick to him like he stuck to you. . . .
SALVATINI: I know, Nate . . . but twenty grand is a big
lump. A helluva big lump, and if he ain't got no
chance. . . .
JOHNNY [refilling SALVATINI'S glass]: Now in my time,
Vicky . . . twenty grand wouldn't have meant . . .
SALVATINI [irritably]: I know, I know, I know what you're
gonna say, Johnny. Don't gimme dat bologney. Sure,
you got a soft job ... so you're tryin' ta tell me how
much talkin' goes inta twenty grand. ... [To RUBIN
anxiously.] I ain't worried about dat . . . but they
got it on him dis time. . . .
RUBIN [with scorn]: Yeah, they think they have.
SALVATINI: . . . And so what's the use trowin' away good
dough after bad . . . ?
RUBIN [rises with dignity]: Huh? You think I'm going to
lose this case by any chance? [Crosses to SALVATINI and
leaning over him as he would over a witness in court,
points his finger and pokes his shoulder with it in beat
to his words.} Say, listen here . . . Vicky Salvatini.
I've grabbed eighty-two men from that hot seat up the
ACT THREE 125
river and I can sneak away another one from it, before
they know it. [Crosses back to his desk. Takes his drink
in hand.] Why, I'll batter their brains out.
SALVATINI [with more confidence]: You sure, Nate?
RUBIN: Sure? Hm. Like I'm standin' here. It's a cinch.
[Chuckles softly] Freddie'll be out and free . . . I'll
bet you the price of a new Lincoln any make . . . this
time next week.
SALVATINI [completely assured and smiling]: Swell. Dat's
the way I like to hear ya talk, Nate. It reminds me of
dat time . . .
JOHNNY: Like to take him up on that bet, Vic?
SALVATINI [making a gesture as if to hit him]: Go on,
go on, go on. Tink I'm a sucker? When Nathan G.
Rubin says this time next week . . . What time is it?
JOHNNY [referring to his wrist-watch]: Half-past three.
SALVATINI: Then he means half-past two. [Crosses to RU-
BIN and helps himself to a cigar from the humidor on
the desk] Say, I lost to you so far, a Stetson, a watch and
one stick-pin. Now you're lookin' for a free Lincoln?
[They laugh]
JOHNNY: You have that appointment with Mr. Rokoff
at half-past three, Chief.
RUBIN: That's right. Well, listen, Vicky . . . [Walks him
toward door] You get your mugs together and tell 'em
I want that dough before the end of the month. . . .
SALVATINI: But that's only . . *
RUBIN [to JOHNNY]: Ask Mr. Rokoff to come in. [To
SALVATINI.] Uh huh. No buts. I'm leaving town in a
couple of weeks so I'll need the cash.
126 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
SALVATINI: You dunno, Nate. But we guys work for our
money. . . .
RUBIN: Yeh, yeh. . . .
SALVATINI: Where ya leavin' for?
RURIN [opening door]: South.
SALVATINI: Palm Beach? For your health?
RUBIN: I don't know how healthy it'll be. . . . [ROKOFF
appears in doorway with HARRISON, a negro attorney.]
Hello, Rokoff.
ROKOFF: Hello, Mr. Rubin. This is Mr. Harrison of the
N. L. D.
RUBIN: Pleased to meet you, Mr. Harrison. [They shake
hands] This is a client of mine, Victor Salvatini. [In-
troduces them to each other] Mr. Rokoff. Mr. Harri-
son. [They all shake hands. While this is going on,
JOHNNY has answered a buzz and is speaking on the
phone] Well, see you tomorrow, Vic.
SALVATINI: Okay. [To ROKOFF and HARRISON.] Glad to
meet ya. [Waves and exits]
RUBIN [he calls to him down the hall]: Don't forget . . .
cash.
SALVATINI [calling back] : Don't worry, don't worry. . . .
RUBIN [closes the door and crosses to desk]: Sit down,
gentlemen. Make yourself at home. [They seat them-
selves. RUBIN to JOHNNY.] Who's that, John?
JOHNNY [as he hangs up]: Nothing at all, Chief. Judge
McCarthy wants you at the Jefferson Dinner, Sunday.
RUBIN: Tell him O. K. [JOHNNY does so.] Mix up some
drinks. [To HARRISON.] What'll you have, Mr. Harri-
son? Scotch, gin, rye?
ACT THREE 127
HARRISON: Anything you like. . . .
RUBIN: Give him that blue Manhattan, John . . . [To
ROKOFF.] . . . and you, Mr. Rokoff. Something red I
guess?
ROKOFF: Better make them all red, today.
[All laugh.]
RUBIN: Okay. Mix 'em up, John. [JOHNNY proceeds to
mix the drinks. RUBIN refills his pipe and seats himself
on the side of the desk.} Weren't you . . . [Lights his
pipe.] with that big law firm up in Harlem, Mr. Har-
rison?
HARRISON: Yes. I was. Jones, Bevins and Harrison, you
mean. . . .-.
RUBIN: Yeah. What did you do? Drop it altogether? You
were doing well.
HARRISON [with a smile}: Yes. We were rather successful.
But I'm with the N. L. D., now.
RUBIN: You mean you've given up a swell practice just
like that . . . ? [Snaps fingers]
HARRISON [smiles]: Yes . . . just like that. . . . [Snaps
fingers]
RUBIN: I guess you're one of these idealists. . . .
HARRISON: On the contrary I'm a thorough material-
ist. . . .
RUBIN [a slight pause, somewhat puzzled, then]: Hmmm.
Well, to get down to cases. . . . [He puts away the
matches. The others settle themselves comfortably]
I've gone through the whole thing, gentlemen and
as I told you I agreed to come into it on two con-
ditions. . . .
128 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
ROKOFF: That's right.
RUBIN: First, that I had to be convinced that the boys
were innocent and second, that I could win the case.
. . . [ROKOFF nods] Well, I've gone over all the testi-
mony here . . . [Places his hand on a pile of papers
and law-books near him.] and records and I'm quite
convinced the nine boys are innocent. . . .
ROKOFF: We're very pleased to hear that, Mr. Rubin. . . .
RUBIN: . . . But I'm not so convinced that I can get a
complete acquittal. . . .
ROKOFF: Why not?
RUBIN: Why not? Well . . . the state's entire case as it
stands is the word of two white girls against the word
of nine negro boys. About the state's other witnesses,
I'm not worried. We can show them up easy enough.
These affidavits you've gotten together are swell. But
the state statute says simply that if the woman swears
to a rape then she's been raped and that's all. And if
the jury believes her, then it's just too bad. . . .
ROKOFF: Yes . . . ?
RUBIN: So our job is to make the jury believe she's a
liar. . . .
ROKOFF: Certainly.
RUBIN [holding up his hand]: Not so certainly. True
enough, you've got some swell affidavits showing these
girls and especially this Virginia Ross to be of low
character . . . still, we've got no real, concrete evi-
dence that will conflict with her story. And that is the
only but chief technical weakness. . . .
HARRISON: May I interrupt . . . ? [RUBIN nods] We
ACT THREE 12Q
realized that some time ago, Mr. Rubin . . . and
therefore we've made a thorough investigation in
Chattanooga about this Mrs. Gary Richy. She's the
woman that these girls swore they spent the night
with.
RUBIN: The night just before the train-ride. .
HARRISON: Exactly. And I have here this wire we've just
received from our associate . . . Attorney General
Cheney. [Rises and hands RUBIN a telegram form.]
RUBIN [reads it aloud]: Have thoroughly investigated so-
called Gary Richy stop No person in Chattanooga
knows her, ever heard of her, has ever seen her stop
Investigated house and street claimed to live in stop
All residents of street deny she lived there stop Tenant
of said house has been living there over fifteen years
stop signed Cheney. [RUBIN looks up at ROKOFF who
is standing near him. He smiles broadly then slaps
the paper with his other hand] This is the stuff. Now,
that's something to work on. This shows a crack in the
cement. Now we've got to break her down on the
stand. . . .
ROKOFF: Well, then, Mr. Rubin . . . does this give you
the certainty you require?
RUBIN [a brief pause. He smiles]: I guess you don't know
me, Rokoff. If I had to wait for one hundred percent
fool-proof cases every time then I'd have to begin doing
divorce actions. No. I feel and I know that these boys
are innocent and if I didn't know that ... we
wouldn't be sitting here together now. But I don't want
no five or ten or twenty year verdicts. . . . I'm going
13O THEY SHALL NOT DIE
down there to get a full acquittal. I'm going down there
to bring those boys home with me and . . . and it's
evidence like this . . . [Shakes the telegram form.]
that'll give us that full acquittal. Get me?
ROKOFF: Then you agree to handle the case . . . ?
RUBIN: Just one more point. You see, I've been hearing
a lot of funny things, all sorts of stories. Well, first ...
that you fellers are . . . are . . . well, regular com-
munists.
ROKOFF [smiling]: Well . . . ?
RUBIN: Well, are you?
ROKOFF: I'm not a member of the party, but there are a
great many things they advocate that I do agree with.
RUBIN: For instance?
ROKOFF: Well, first I believe that the best legal defense
is the best political defense. . . .
RUBIN [interrupting, good-naturedly]: Now, now. None
of that book-stuff with me, Joe. Come down to cases.
ROKOFF [smiling broadly]: Well, have you ever been
down South?
RUBIN: Sure. Washington, D. C.
ROKOFF: I mean the real South. Mississippi, Georgia, Ala-
bama. [RUBIN shakes his head] Well, I've been in these
places and I've fought for dozens of negro and white
workers in Southern courts. I fought that strike case
in South Carolina in 1928. . . .
RUBIN: Yeah. I remember. A swell job. . . .
ROKOFF: Thanks. So, I think I know what I'm talking
about when I warn you that if you expect to get an
ACT THREE 131
unprejudiced jury or an impartial judge or anything
resembling a fair trial, you're mighty mistaken, Mr.
Rubin. . . .
RUBIN: Well, you leave that to me.
ROKOFF: We intend to. That's our policy. A two-fisted
one. [He clenches both fists and holds them up.] With
the right fist ... the finest legal analytic defense in
the country, Nathan G. Rubin . . . and with the left
fist ... the greatest, widest mass protest action on a
national and international scale . . . Two-fisted. . . .
RUBIN: That's just it. A lot of people have been saying
that if it hadn't been for this south-paw, left fist policy
of you reds ... I mean your organization . . . those
boys would have been free. . . :-.
HARRISON: If that were so, Mr. Rubin, why weren't they
freed in Cookesville two years ago, when there was no
mass action, when the boys had only Southern lawyers
and when the N. L. D. was a thousand miles away?
RUBIN [puffing his pipe, thoughtfully]: That sounds logi-
cal enough. But I wouldn't want to be hampered in
any way. . . .
HARRISON: We don't intend to hamper you. Last summer
we engaged as you know one of the finest Constitu-
tional attorneys in the U. S. to plead the case in the
Supreme Court in Washington and we didn't hamper
him any. But we do attribute to a great extent the
decision for this new trial, to the demands of thousands
of workers all over the world and not to any generosity
on the part of the courts. . . .
132 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
RUBIN: That's fine. As long as you keep out Communism
from the courtroom I don't care what you do out-
side. . . .
ROKOFF: We agree to that. You see, all I wanted to do
was to show you the various underlying reasons for
this case, economical and sociological. . . . This is
not merely a rape case . . . it's bigger than that. It's
the Southern ruling class on trial . . . it's . . .
RUBIN [laughs, good-naturedly]: Sure. Sure. But I'm only
interested in this case. You do what you like on the
outside. Make speeches, hold meetings. ... By the
way, do you have enough money for expenses?
ROKOFF: You see, Mr. Rubin, I don't like you to do this
but I'm afraid you'll have to. You know, in spite of
what Mr. Fish says there's no Moscow gold around us
and every penny we have has been donated by nickels
and dimes from the workers all over the country. . . .
RUBIN [indulgent]: Sure. I know. What about it?
ROKOFF: Of course you realize that we can't thank you
enough for the grand thing you're doing by not asking
any fee at all and that's why I feel so embarrassed to
ask you to lay out your own expenses. They won't be
much.
RUBIN [rubs his chin, slowly]: Well, I figured on bringing
my assistant along. That'll run up. Hotels, fares. . . .
Well, I don't know. . . . [To JOHNNY.] Hey, John!
Get in touch with Salvatini. Tell him I want that
dough by Monday. . . . [JOHNNY makes a note] Okay,
Joe. We'll put the expenses on the ice too. [Extends
his hand. They shake hands with enthusiasm] But
ACT THREE 133
don't you fellers make me any revolution in the court-
room. And no bombs whatsoever. . . . [They laugh.]
You know ... I may joke about it but you've got me
pretty worried with this mass action and protest meet-
ings. Maybe .
[The telephone buzzes. JOHNNY answers it.]
JOHNNY: Who? [Turns to ROKOFF.] It's somebody for
you in the outside office, Mr. Rokoff.
ROKOFF [crosses and takes receiver]: Thanks. Hello . . .
Frank . . . What? Who? Bring him in. [Turns to
RUBIN, excitedly] My clerk is outside . . . with . . .
with Lewis Collins. . . .
RUBIN: Collins? Who's he?
ROKOFF: He's one of those white boys who jumped off
the train. . . .
RUBIN: Bring him in, John. [To ROKOFF.] One of those
hoboes that disappeared?
ROKOFF: Yes . . . but what . . . [Door opens and
JOHNNY ushers in FRANK TRAVERS and LEWIS COL-
LINS.] Hullo, Frank. What . . . ?
TRAVERS: This is Mr. Collins, Joe. They asked me to rush
him down. . . .
ROKOFF [seizing COLLINS' hand and shaking it. He is all
confused]: Glad to meet you.
TRAVERS: I've got to get to court, Joe. I'll run along.
ROKOFF: Okay, Frank. See you later. [TRAVERS exits. To
COLLINS.] This is Mr. Rubin and Mr. Harrison.
RUBIN: Pleased to meet you. [Shakes hands with him.]
Have a seat.
COLLINS [sits. Looks around with interest, especially at
134 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
view of sky-scrapers]: Thank yuh, suh.
RUBIN [also,, somewhat confused, turns to JOHNNY]: Hey,
John. What you waiting for? Mix him up a drink.
ROKOFF: Sure. . . . Give him a drink. Well . . . Mr.
Collins . . . what are you doing here? I mean . . .
COLLINS [smiles and drawls]: Well, I kin tell yuh all yuh
want tuh know, Mist' Rokoff.
ROKOFF: You're one of those fellers that had that fight
with the negro boys and jumped off that train near
Stebbinsville?
COLLINS: Yes suh. I was right there.
ROKOFF: Well, how did you get up here in New York?
When? How?
COLLINS: Yuh see, suh, I've ben bummin' around this
heah country the las' coupla yeahs, ever sence that
frame-up in Cookesville. . . .
RUBIN [ejaculates]: Frame-up?
COLLINS: Sho'. That's whut it were. A frame-up. I seen
it all. They tried tuh make me tell stories too. But I
wouldn't do it. Not fo' them bastards. Hell no!
RUBIN [also terribly excited now]: Well . . . ?
COLLINS: Well, I'm tryin' tuh tell yuh ... I finally got
so ... well . . . feelin' kin' of bad 'bout the hull
thing. An' one day I read in a Kansas City newspaper
that the Supreme Co't up in Washington was givin'
the boys a new trial an' right theah in Kansas City I
made up my min' tuh come tuh New York State. . . .
RUBIN: Why to New York . . . ?
COLLINS: Well, I'm comin' tuh that, suh. Yuh see, I felt
them po' niggers, oh ... [Turns to HARRISON.] I jest
ACT THREE 135
didn't notice yuh. . . .
HARRISON: That's all right. [Smiles pleasantly to him.]
COLLINS: Well, I felt them kids didn't deserve tuh die fo'
somethin' they never done an' they was jest lookin' fo'
a job anr was ridin' on that theah train same as me. . . .
An' maybe some day I would be in a tight hole an'
maybe I would jest need a negra kid to say somethin'
fo' me. . . .
RUBIN: Wait! You mean, you say these boys never did it?
Never raped those girls?
COLLINS: Well, I'm sho' they never done it, suh. That's
why I'm heah. Yuh see, I figgered . . . well, I didn't
know who tuh go tuh and I figgered on goin' tuh see
the Yankee governor heah, Mist' Roosevelt . . . an'
tuh tell him the truth.
RUBIN [gives him the drink that JOHN has mixed for him]:
Here, have a drink. It'll do you good.
COLLINS: Thank yuh. I sho' need a drink. I ain't co't a
bittie sleep in three days now. B'en ridin' the freights.
[He drinks.] That ain't so bad. Well, I went up to see
that Yankee Governor o' yourn at Albany an' he was
too busy. So I saw his assistant an' he said fo' me tuh
go to the attorneys fo' the defense. So I looked up all
the papers wherever I could find them and finally I saw
yo' name, Mist' Rokoff, an' looked up yo' address in
the directory an' come up tuh yo' office. Then they
shipped me down heah right quick an' in a taxi.
RUBIN: That's fine. That's swell but what makes you think
these boys are innocent?
[Everyone leans forward. They all breathe hard.]
136 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
COLLINS: Well . . . [He takes another drink, and smiles
with satisfaction.] This heah is better'n Coca Cola.
Huh? Well . . . [Wipes his lips with the back of his
hand.] It's this-away. I read as how that Virginia Ross
woman tol' how she went tuh Chattanoogie with Lucy
Wells tuh look fo' work in the mills theah an' how
she spent the night with a lady called Mrs. Gary
Richy. . . .
RUBIN: That's right. That's her story.
COLLINS: Yeah, but it's all one big, damn lie. She never
went theah tuh look fo' a job. She went theah with me
an' Lucy to go bummin'.
RUBIN: Wha-at?
COLLINS: Sho'. Virginia an' Lucy never spent that night
with no Gary Richy whoever she is ... they spent
the hull night with me an' Oliver Tulley in a hobo
jungle. . . .
RUBIN: What did you do there ... in the jungle?
COLLINS: Oh, we talked an' we ate some sandwiches that
we bummed an' . . .
RUBIN: What else?
COLLINS: Well, we had some fun. . . .
RUBIN: What do you mean, fun? With whom? With this
Ross woman?
COLLINS: No, I wouldn't tech that Ross gal. She's poison.
I was with Lucy . . . Lucy Wells.
RUBIN [all are quite tense]: You mean you slept with her
there in the jungle?
COLLINS: Well, we didn't sleep much. . . .
RUBIN: You mean . . . you . . . ?
ACT THREE 137
COLLINS [smiling]: I sho' did.
RUBIN: That's all. [He says this as though he had just
finished the examination of a witness in court. He is
terribly elated and gives almost full vent to his voice.]
Joe! We got 'em. This'll knock their medical evidence
for a loop. Jeez. We'll go down there and we'll batter
their brains out. [All chatter noisily with unsuppressed
glee.] Yeah . . . and this little boy from New York is
gonna bring those nine kids home and dump 'em into
your lap. . . .
CURTAIN
ACT THREE
SCENE TWO
Two weeks later. The court-room in Dexter. The court
has been in session all day and for the past week. It
is afternoon. The windows are covered with yellow
blinds against which the sun's rays strike. The audi-
ence is comprised mainly of whites. The negro spec-
tators are confined to a small section near the side.
An arm-chair is directly in front of the judicial dais.
This is the witness chair. It faces the jury and audi-
ence. The jury is separated from the audience by a
wooden railing and the jurors have brass railings
on which they rest their feet as they swing back on
their swivel seats. Between each pair of jurors is a
large cuspidor and these are used frequently and with
expertness.
To the right of the judge: the defense table with ROKOFF,
RUBIN, CHENEY and the defendant, HEYWOOD PARSONS.
To the left of the judge: the prosecution with SLADE
the Circuit Solicitor, MASON the Cookesville Solicitor
and DADE the Attorney General. Back of the defense:
a row of chairs and two doors. Back of the prosecu-
tion table: the reporters' table and back of them, a
door.
The jurors and white audience are for most part . . .
lean, hard-faced, thin-lipped individuals, raw-boned
138
ACT THREE 139
and provincial. Many wear heavy, mud-caked, cow-
hide boots and overalls. The JUDGE, ironically
enough, resembles Abraham Lincoln without the
beard. He speaks in a soft drawl. At the reporters'
table: about ten gentlemen of the Press. The small
negro audience is separated from the whites by an
aisle.
The atmosphere is quiet; the soft-spoken drawls of most
of the speakers strangely intensify this quiet grim-
ness and ominousness rather than decrease it. Placed
in strategic positions about the court-room are many
soldiers carrying rifles with bayonets and in full
uniform. A captain is in charge of them. He sits up
front.
When the curtain rises RUBIN is seen facing a negro wit-
ness seated on the witness chair. The latter is an
elderly, good-looking negro, well-dressed and well-
spoken. He is answering a question.
WATSON: Dr. Theodore Henry Watson, sir.
RUBIN: Have you ever gone to school?
WATSON: I am a graduate from Tuskeegee Institute and
have my master's in the University of Illinois.
RUBIN: Can you read and write English?
WATSON: Yes, sir.
RUBIN: What is your business?
WATSON: I am the acting dean of a college and a trustee
of a church.
RUBIN: Have you ever been called for jury service?
WATSON: No, sir.
140 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
RUBIN: Have you ever been examined on your qualifica-
tions to serve?
WATSON: Never.
RUBIN: Thank you. That's all.
[He crosses back to defense table as BADE crosses to wit-
ness. DADE immediately takes a familiar tone with the
witness, placing one foot on the rung of the chair,
leaning over him and pointing his forefinger at him.]
DADE: What is your name?
WATSON: Theodore Watson.
DADE: That's fine. Now listen, Teddy, you answer this.
. . . [Keeps pointing his finger at him. Someone in
court giggles.] You mean you're a trustee in a church
and on the board of a college?
WATSON: Yes, sir.
DADE: Don't you mean a negro college and a negro church,
Teddy?
WATSON: Yes, sir.
[Two or three men guffaw in the court-room.]
DADE [smiles at the jury then turns back to witness]: Now
listen, Teddy . . . you mean to say ...
[RUBIN leaps up infuriated and crosses to DADE'S side.]
RUBIN [shouting at him, belligerently]: Stand back, you!
Stand back! [DADE almost reels back in his astonish-
ment] Stop your bull-dozing of this witness. Take your
finger out of his face and call him . . . Mister!
DADE [screams , losing control]: I never have and I never
will. . . .
RUBIN: You'll have to learn how. . . .
[The court is in an uproar.]
ACT THREE 141
JUDGE [tapping his gavel]: Now gentlemen, please. Let
us conduct ourselves in an orderly fashion. Order
please. Quiet.
DADE [recovering himself. The court comes to order]:
All right. [Crosses back to witness. Then exceedingly
polite with pretended civility. The court guffaws again
almost as he starts.] You don't mean to say that you
consider yourself eligible to sit on a jury with white
men . . . ?
RUBIN: Objection.
DADE [smiles to jury very satisfied]: That's all. I'm
through.
[As he returns to his seat laughing, RUBIN is already speak-
ing to the JUDGE. He speaks with some heat]
RUBIN: If it please the court, for twenty-five years the
officials of this county have illegally and systematically
excluded negroes of this community who are more than
qualified to serve on juries. I have proven that, your
Honor. No witness, white or black that has been on this
stand this past week can remember or ever heard of a
negro juryman.
VOICE [in court]: Hell, no!
[Laughter]
DADE: I deny the systematic exclusion of niggers. . , *
JUDGE: Does the state wish to produce any witnesses?
DADE: It does. I call, if the court please, Jury Commis-
sioner James K. Crocker.
GUARD: Mr. Crocker.
[CROCKER enters from the witness room back of the re-
porters' table and crosses to the witness chair.]
142 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
CROCKER [as he sits}: How do, Jedge.
[JUDGE nods}
DADE: Did you ever exclude a negro from your jury rolls
because of his color?
CROCKER: No, I ain't never done that.
DADE: It was more a matter of selection than of exclusion,
wasn't it?
CROCKER: Sho'. Sho'. Matter of selection.
RUBIN: Would you mind stepping away from the witness
and obstructing the jury's view, Attorney-General
Bade?
DADE: I'm sorry, gentlemen. I only want the witness to
heah better.
RUBIN: He can hear from over there as well.
DADE: I'll stand where I please. He's my witness.
RUBIN: You are at liberty to climb up in his lap if you
want to.
[JUDGE raps gavel}
DADE: That'll be all, Mr. Crocker.
[Returns to seat. CROCKER attempts to rise but RUBIN is
already at his side.]
RUBIN: Just a minute. What in your opinion has been
keeping negroes off the jury if not their color?
CROCKER: Wa — al. They durn't have no sound jedgement
I guess.
RUBIN: Is that all?
CROCKER: Well, they steal an' ain't tuh be trusted nohow.
An' they durn't understand no law an' no justice.
RUBIN: You're sure of that?
CROCKER: Sho'. I wouldn't trust 'em so far ... [Holds
ACT THREE 143
up forefinger and thumb held tightly together. Some-
one laughs.] An' whut's mo' no white man would sit
on a jury with a nigger. . . .
[Loud muttering in court.]
RUBIN [irritated] : I didn't ask you that. Answer the ques-
tions properly. You say you have never in all your years
as jury commissioner found one colored man qualified
for jury service?
CROCKER: No, I ain't.
RUBIN: In spite of the fact that there are learned college
graduates, doctors and ministers in this county who
are respectable, honest citizens?
CROCKER: Whut's the matter? Do yuh doubt my word?
RUBIN [with scorn]: Yes, I certainly do. How do you ac-
count for eligible citizens being denied their constitu-
tional rights all these years?
CROCKER: I cain't account for it. It jest happens.
[DADE laughs and slaps SLADE on the back, who also
laughs]
RUBIN: That's all. [As CROCKER leaves, he addresses the
court] I move for dismissal on the grounds that negroes
are being denied their rights as guaranteed them in the
thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth amendments to
the Constitution of the United States.
JUDGE [after clearing his throat]: The counsel for defense
has established a prima facie case of systematic ex-
clusion on racial grounds in violation of the four-
teenth amendment but this court has decided to hear
no further testimony on this question. The motion is
denied.
144 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
[At the reporters' table there is seen whispering and ex-
treme activity. One reporter has a pet expression which
he repeats at the conclusion of important testimony or
when something unusual occurs. He says this nasally:
"0-oh."]
RUBIN [with an expression of confusion and amazement.
His lips move almost mechanically]: I except.
[Reporters send telegraph boys rushing out with scrib-
bled forms.]
JUDGE: Let us now proceed with the trial befo' the jury
but befo' doing so, I wish to make a few points clear
to the co't. Gentlemen of the jury, it would be a blot
on our fair state if you would allow anything to stand
in the way of justice. We in the South have always tried
to be fair and just. Let us continue that noble record.
So far as the law is concerned, it knows neither Jew
nor Gentile, black nor white. We must do our duty
and if we are true to ourselves then we cannot, no we
cannot be false to any man. [Turns to DADE.] Will the
state kin'ly continue to call its witnesses.
DADE: If it please your Honor, I call Mrs. Virginia Ross.
[Voices in court.]
GUARD: Mrs. Virginia Ross.
[She enters, crosses to stand and sits. MASON crosses to
her. DADE has returned to his seat. She smoothes out
her dress, crosses her knees prettily and looks about
the court-room with a winsome expression. News
photographers take flashlight]
MASON: What is your name, please?
ACT THREE 145
VIRGINIA: Mrs. Virginia Ross.
MASON: What is your business?
VIRGINIA: I am a house-wife.
MASON: Were you on that train from Chattanooga . . . ?
VIRGINIA: I absolutely was.
MASON: And were you attacked and ravished by five
negroes on that train?
VIRGINIA: They absolutely done that tuh me.
MASON: Can you identify the defendant as one of those
who attacked you?
VIRGINIA: I absolutely can.
[Simultaneous with MASON'S question PARSONS is made to
rise. The court murmurs.]
MASON: Is this one of the negroes who raped you, Mrs.
Ross?
VIRGINIA [angrily, pointing her finger]: Yes. He is one of
them niggers who done raped me.
MASON: Thank you, Mrs. Ross.
[As MASON seats himself RUBIN strides over to her.]
RUBIN: You have been arrested and convicted and have
served sentence for offenses of lewdness and drunken-
ness. Have you not?
DADE: We object.
RUBIN [waves a handful of papers]: I have the proofs and
affidavits right here.
JUDGE [to Clerk] : Give me the second volume of the State
code, please. [This is done. He refers to it]
DADE: We don't care whether this woman has been con-
victed for forty offenses but she has never been
146 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
convicted for sleeping with a negro.
RUBIN [furious]: She's done that too, and I'll prove
it. ...
JUDGE [Court in disorder. JUDGE raps gavel and leans
over.] Are these violations of city ordinances or state
ordinances, Mr. Rubin?
RUBIN: Of course, city ordinances and I beg leave to read
them. . . .
JUDGE: I'm sorry, I'm forced to bar them. They are not
admissible. Objection is sustained. [Returns volume
to CLERK.]
RUBIN: I take exception to the court's ruling. It seems to
me that if a woman has been convicted of prostitution
by a state court or any other court, a jury is entitled to
know that. [JUDGE wags head. Glares at the JUDGE
for a moment. DADE winks to SLADE.]
RUBIN: What were you doing in Chattanooga?
VIRGINIA: I jest was theah tuh look fo' work.
RUBIN: With whom?
VIRGINIA: With Lucy Wells.
RUBIN: Where did you look?
VIRGINIA: In the cotton mills.
RUBIN: Which ones?
VIRGINIA: Well, yuh wouldn't expect me tuh remember
that?
RUBIN: Answer the question.
VIRGINIA [impudently]: Well, I jes tol' yuh. How many
times do yuh have tuh ask me? I don't remember. . . .
[Laughter in audience]
RUBIN: You testified at the Cookesville trial that you and
ACT THREE 147
Lucy Wells slept in the home of a Mrs. Gary Richy
on the night before the train ride. Is that right?
VIRGINIA: We did sleep theah.
RUBIN: Where does Mrs. Richy live?
VIRGINIA: In Chattanoogie.
RUBIN: What street? What number?
VIRGINIA: I don't remember no number. It was the third
house from the corner.
RUBIN: What street?
VIRGINIA [simulating exasperation]: I don't exac'ly re-
member . . .
RUBIN: As a matter of fact, Mrs. Ross, isn't it true that
you got this name Gary Richy from a character in the
Saturday Evening Post stories by Octavius Roy Cohen
— sis Gary — that you got this name there? [Offers
copy of magazine to Clerk.]
DADE: Objection. I don't care what she did, the only thing
we're interested in is whether she was raped.
RUBIN [heatedly]: I'm testing her credibility.
DADE: You know that is no proposition of law.
RUBIN: Address your remarks to the court!
DADE: You make it necessary to address them to you.
RUBIN: I have been a gentleman but I can be otherwise,
too.
JUDGE: Wait, gentlemen. Don't either of you say any-
thing. I won't have another word between you. Ask
the question and the court will pass on it. General
Dade's objection is sustained. Proceed, please.
RUBIN: Didn't you spend that night in a hobo jungle with
Lucy Wells, Lewis Collins and Oliver Tulley?
148 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
VIRGINIA [defiantly]: No, I never done that.
RUBIN: Do you deny you know Lewis Collins?
VIRGINIA: I never heard of him or seen him in my life.
RUBIN: Didn't you make up this whole tissue of lies about
these negroes attacking you, and didn't you force Lucy
Wells to swear to your lies because you were afraid of
being arrested yourself for prostitution?
VIRGINIA [rising, screams]: I'll have you know . . .
DADE [simultaneously]: I object.
RUBIN: This is perfectly relevant, your Honor.
JUDGE: Well, suppose you reword it, Mr. Rubin.
RUBIN [after a sigh] : Did you not make up this story for
that reason?
VIRGINIA [very angrily, in a shrill voice]: You bet' not
talk tuh me in that so't of talk, Mister. I'm a decent
lady an' I'll have yuh know . . .
RUBIN: Answer the question, please.
VIRGINIA: I never done made up no story . . . you . . .
VOICE: Let's get that goddam Jew bastard, boys.
[Terrific noise in court. SOLDIERS rush about trying to
keep order. The CAPTAIN strides here and there push-
ing people back into their seats and barking at them]
RUBIN [shouting over the tumult]: I insist on that man's
arrest, your Honor.
[The REPORTERS are almost frantic. They also converse
excitedly, and rush their messengers out with scribbled
telegrams]
JUDGE [rising, shouts to a soldier, while hammering with
his gavel]: Officer, Officer! Have that fellow taken out
ACT THREE 149
immediately. [He sits, still hammering. The feeling in
the crowded court-room increases in intensity. All over
are mutterings and whisperings. The CAPTAIN opens
his holster-flap and keeps his hand on his revolver-butt.
He strides about giving orders to his men, and keeps
a sharp look-out throughout the rest of the scene.] If
anyone is this room cannot behave himself, the place
for him is outside!
RUBIN: I have the proof, Virginia Ross . . . that you con-
cocted this whole story to save your own skin. . . .
DADE [leaping to the front of the jury]: Go 'haid. Prove it.
Why don't you prove it?
RUBIN [shouting back]: I'd prove it ... if I had Lucy
Wells on the stand.
DADE [with a triumphant shout. Jumping up and down
in front of jury]: Yes. Where is Lucy Wells? Where?
I would like to know where the state's witness has dis-
•
appeared to? What has happened to her? Who has done
away with her?
RUBIN: I'm not a directory . . . [slight pause] and I'd
appreciate it if the Attorney General would stop in-
terrupting. [He speaks quietly with an expression of
amusement] I'd like to continue my examination.
JUDGE: Proceed.
RUBIN [to VIRGINIA in another tone of voice, almost
friendly]: You say you had to take the freight train
home because you had no money?
VIRGINIA: Sho'. I was dead-broke.
RUBIN: And after those negroes had that fight with the
150 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
white boys and threw them off the train, then they at-
tacked you?
VIRGINIA: Yes, they jumped on me . . .
RUBIN: Was Hey wood Parsons one of them?
VIRGINIA: He was the very first. He slammed me down and
he ripped off my overalls . . .
RUBIN: Did he hurt you when he slammed you down?
VIRGINIA: Sho'. He hurt my back. . . .
RUBIN: I understand there were stones in the car. Did
they make your back bleed?
VIRGINIA: Yes, it absolutely did. And he hit me over the
haid with his gun.
RUBIN: And that bled too, didn't it?
VIRGINIA: Yes ... he hit me right heah. [Touches the
side of her head.]
RUBIN: I see. [To the stenographer.] For the record, the
left side of the head. And then he tore your dress off,
and attacked you?
VIRGINIA: Yes ... an' another nigger tore open my
legs. . . .
RUBIN: Did he make you bleed there too?
VIRGINIA: Yes, they hurt me terrible down theah. Then he
said, 'Listen heah, white gal I'm goin' to . . .'
RUBIN: Well, never mind what he said. Answer only the
questions. What happened then?
VIRGINIA: Then he said, after he got through ravashin' me
that he was goin' tuh make me have a nigger baby, a
black baby . . . an' he was goin' tuh take me up No'th
an' make me his woman. . . .
RUBIN: He said that . . ?
ACT THREE 151
VIRGINIA [almost screaming]: Yes an' he said he was goin'
tuh cut my neck open if I didn't let him . . .
RUBIN: Wait a minute. Say, you're a little bit of an actress,
aren't you?
DADE [jumping up and shouting]: Don't answer that!
VIRGINIA [pleased and rather impudent]: Well, you're a
pretty good actor yo'self.
RUBIN [back to his usual pounding]: Tell the jury, Mrs.
Ross, why you ... a complaining witness, were held
in jail at Cookesville. What happened in that jail be-
fore the grand jury met to indict those nine boys?
VIRGINIA [in a rage]: Nuthin'! Nuthin' . . . an' you're
a ...
DADE: I object. This is wholly irrelevant.
RUBIN: It is not irrelevant.
DADE: It has nothing to do with the rape.
JUDGE [tapping with his gavel]: What relevancy has this
testimony to the case, Mr. Rubin?
RUBIN [angry]: I'd like to ask if anyone ever heard in the
history of this State of a single white woman being
locked up in jail when she is the complaining witness
against a negro?
DADE: We object.
JUDGE: Sustained.
RUBIN: Well . . . I'm going to show that the state's chief
witness, this woman here, Virginia Ross, is an out-and-
out perjurer. That's what I'm going to show before I'm
through. This is only the beginning. [To VIRGINIA sud-
denly.] That's all.
[She glares at him, then remembers, rises, looks about
152 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
the court with pleading eyes and trips off.]
DADE [as RUBIN crosses to his seat]: I call Doctor Thomas
of Cookesville.
GUARD: Doctor Thomas.
[He enters and crosses to the chair]
MASON [having already crossed to him]: Doctor Thomas,
did you examine Virginia Ross and Lucy Wells after
they were brought to Cookesville?
DOCTOR: I did, suh.
MASON: What did you find in your examination of the
two girls?
[The court which had been slightly noisy after the exit
of VIRGINIA suddenly hushes itself and everyone includ-
ing JUDGE, JURY, REPORTERS and SOLDIERS lean for-
ward, ears and mouths wide open. Two women rise
and leave the room of their own accord]
DOCTOR: Well, I examined them one by one and found
evidence of spermatozoa in both of them.
MASON: Would this show, Doctor, that these girls had
been attacked?
DOCTOR: It certainly showed that they had had commerce
with men.
[Someone giggles]
MASON: Thank you, Doctor.
[He seats himself. RUBIN crosses to examine him]
RUBIN: Doctor Thomas. Wouldn't it be true that if five
men had attacked Virginia Ross, there would have
been much more evidence of it?
DOCTOR [cautiously]: Well, yes ... there wasn't very
much. But there was some.
ACT THREE 153
RUBIN: Was it difficult to find?
DOCTOR: Well, I had to make quite a thorough search
. . . into the cervix itself.
RUBIN: As you testified in Cookesville, your examination
took place only one to two hours after the alleged at-
tack. Certainly there should have been more evidence
found and without any difficulty.
DOCTOR [warily]: All things are possible.
RUBIN: When you examined Mrs. Ross, did you find her
bleeding from her back or head?
DOCTOR: No, but she did have a couple of small scratches
on her arms. . . .
RUBIN [firmly]: Kindly answer only my question. Was she
bleeding from head or back? Yes or no?
DOCTOR: No suh.
RUBIN: And concerning any small scratches on her arms
or hands, couldn't these have happened from the jump-
ing on and off trains and sleeping in the open?
DOCTOR: Yes.
RUBIN: I will now ask you as a physician . . . were there
any wounds or lacerations on her body as there would
have been if she had been attacked roughly and in a
hurry by five men?
DOCTOR: No.
RUBIN: She didn't bleed anywhere?
DOCTOR: No.
RUBIN: Was Mrs. Ross excited when she came to your
office?
DOCTOR: No.
RUBIN: How was her pulse?
154 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
DOCTOR: Normal.
JUDGE [leaning over]: Was Mrs. Ross nervous or hysteri-
cal?
DOCTOR: Both girls were normal, your Honor.
RUBIN: As a medical man, Doctor . . . can you conceive
of a woman going through so ghastly an experience as
rape by five negroes and yet showing no signs whatso-
ever of any excitement . . . ?
DADE: We object!
RUBIN [simulating innocence]: Do you object to that?
DADE: Yes indeed!
RUBIN: That's all, Doctor. [Waves magnanimously] All
right. I'll withdraw it.
[DOCTOR nods to JUDGE and exits]
JUDGE: The state will kin'ly proceed.
DADE: The state calls Benson Allen.
GUARD: Mr. Allen.
[He enters, crosses to seat. Nods to JUDGE. MASON has al-
ready crossed and proceeds to examine him]
MASON : You were at Rocky Point when the train arrived?
ALLEN: Sho'. I was the fust one tuh git the telephone from
Stebbinsville 'bout the hull thing.
MASON: And you saw the girls at Rocky Point?
ALLEN: Sho'. I helped tuh place 'em into the automobile.
MASON: Weren't they all hysterical and didn't they accuse
the negroes of attacking them?
ALLEN: They were all cryin' an' complainin' of bein' at-
tacked.
MASON: Thank you, Mister Allen. [He nods to RUBIN who
rises and crosses to ALLEN.]
ACT THREE 155
RUBIN: You saw the girls at the station?
ALLEN: I was right theah.
RUBIN: Were they bleeding at all?
ALLEN: Yeah. Mrs. Ross, she was bleedin' turrible-like.
[BADE makes a gesture of satisfaction and talks excitedly
to his colleagues. They laugh and wink to each other.]
RUBIN: Where did you see any blood?
ALLEN: On her haid.
[BADE repeats his approval. RUBIN glances at him, narrow-
eyed.]
RUBIN: Did you deputies search the defendant, Hey wood
Parsons?
ALLEN: I searched him, myself.
RUBIN: Did you find a gun on him?
ALLEN: No, but I found a knife.
RUBIN: This knife? [Indicates a knife lying on a small
table near the Clerk.}
ALLEN: Yes suh, that same knife.
[DADE suddenly claps his hands and gives a triumphant
whoop]
RUBIN: Did the defendant say anything when you took it
from him?
ALLEN: Yes. He said he stole it from her, from Mrs. Ross.
[DADE slaps his hand down on the table, with another
ejaculation of glee]
RUBIN [heatedly]: Your Honor, I am amazed at the actions
of the chief prosecutor, the Attorney General of this
state, who only yesterday said he wanted these negroes
to have a fair trial and who is today so shamefully com-
porting himself before the jury. It is very dishearten-
156 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
ing and I must move for a mistrial. [Turns to RO-
KOFF.] I never saw anything like this in my life.
JUDGE [taps gavel to quiet muttering in court]: Yes, I
did heah a little sound. I'm very sorry, Mr. Rubin.
I'm sure the General will not repeat it. Motion de-
nied. Proceed please.
RUBIN [sighs heavily] : Did you find anything else on the
defendant?
ALLEN [he is very pleased with himself]: Sho'. I found a
half dollar in his pockets. He said he took that from
Mrs. Ross too . . .
RUBIN: Oh, he did? Well, what did you do with this fifty-
cent piece?
ALLEN: Oh, I don't remember that.
RUBIN: Didn't you show it to anyone?
ALLEN: No.
RUBIN: Didn't you show it to Sheriff Trent at Cookesville?
ALLEN [irritably]: But he's dead now.
RUBIN: What difference does that make? Did you show
it to him?
ALLEN: No. I didn't.
RUBIN: Whom did you give it to?
ALLEN [becoming confused and hot under the collar]:
I'm tellin' yuh, I dunno.
RUBIN: Why didn't you bring it up at the Cookesville
trial?
ALLEN: I dunno. I don't remember . . .
RUBIN: You swore to tell the truth here, didn't you? Not
to lie . . . ?
ALLEN: I swore tuh that an' I am. I jest don't remember
ACT THREE 157
. . . I'm tellin' yuh.
RUBIN: Well, I'll tell you something, Mr. Allen. Mrs. Vir-
ginia Ross swore here on this chair, not twenty min-
utes ago that she never had a cent on that trip and
that she was dead-broke.
ALLEN [his mouth dropping open]: Huh?
RUBIN: That's all. [Turns to Dade] Now, General Bade,
now you can cheer your head off.
[Crosses to his seat; noise in court. ALLEN leaves.]
MASON: The state calls Seth Robbins.
GUARD: Mr. Robbins.
[He enters and seats himself. He is a farmer, dressed in
overalls and boots. This is a great experience for him
and he revels in it]
MASON: Mr. Robbins, what is your business?
ROBBINS: I am a land-holder, suh.
MASON: You testified in Cookesville that you were stand-
ing on a hay-wagon in your field and witnessed what
happened on the train coming from Chattanooga. Is
that correct?
ROBBINS: It sho' is.
MASON: Did you see the negroes throw the white boys off
the train?
ROBBINS: I saw that happen.
MASON: What did you see after the boys were thrown off?
ROBBINS: I saw aplenty. One of them white gals was afixin'
tuh jump off an' this heah nigger grabbed huld of her
an' pulled her back in the train an' slammed her down
in the car with a bang.
[Loud muttering in the court]
158 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
MASON: Could you see what he did to her there?
ROBBINS: I sho' could, an' I saw aplenty.
MASON: Thank you, Mr. Robbins. [Nods to RUBIN who
crosses to table.]
RUBIN: Where is your hayfield, Mr. Robbins? How far
from the railroad tracks?
ROBBINS: Oh, jest a hoop an' a holler away.
RUBIN: How far is that?
ROBBINS: Oh, jest a li'l way.
RUBIN: I offer as evidence, if the court please, this map
of Mr. Robbins' farm . . . [Crosses to JUDGE and
shows it to him.] This clearly shows the hayfield to be
at least a half-mile distant from the tracks, and there-
fore the witness could not possibly have seen what oc-
curred on a fast-speeding freight. [Hands the map to
a juror who looks at it and passes it on.] Perhaps you
had a telescope with you, Mr. Robbins?
JUDGE: Mark it in evidence, Clerk. [Clerk does so]
ROBBINS [not understanding]: Huh?
RUBIN [describes with hands and one closed eye]: A tele-
scope . . . ?
ROBBINS: No, I did not. An' don't be so smart with me,
suh.
JUDGE: Quiet, please.
RUBIN: When you were standing on that hay- wagon, who
was with you?
ROBBINS: A nigger.
RUBIN: You mean a negro. Speak English in this court.
[Muttering in room] What is this negro's name?
ROBBINS: I dunno his name. [He is very angry and scowls
ACT THREE 159
at RUBIN continually]
RUBIN: Why was he never brought to trial at Cookesville
to back up your story?
BADE [leaping up, shouts]: We don't need a nigger to cor-
roborate a white man's testimony.
[Muttering in court, sounds of approval. At reporters'
table, renewed activity. One of them whistles in
amazement.]
REPORTER: O-oh!
RUBIN: I move for a mistrial.
JUDGE [tapping his gavel]: There will kin'ly be order in
the court. Motion is denied. Kin'ly proceed.
RUBIN [sarcastically]: I respectfully except. [To ROBBINS.]
You say you saw a white girl about to jump off the
train . . . ?
ROBBINS: I did. She was afixin' tuh jump an' this buck
negra, he pulled her back an' slammed her down in
the car.
RUBIN: You swear you saw this?
ROBBINS: I do.
RUBIN: How far do you live from Stebbinsville?
ROBBINS: Two and a half mile.
RUBIN: Did you have a car, an auto? In good condition?
ROBBINS: I had a Ford truck an' it was brand new.
RUBIN: Did you have a telephone in your house?
ROBBINS: I did an' I still have.
RUBIN: Well, when you saw this terrible thing, when you
saw that a negro was attacking and assaulting a white
girl in front of your very eyes, did you go to your tele-
phone and call the sheriff in Stebbinsville?
l6o THEY SHALL NOT DIE
ROBBINS: No, it jest slipped my mind. But I meant
tuh . . .
RUBIN: Didn't you rush to your brand new Ford truck
and drive immediately to the authorities to report this
horrible crime you witnessed?
ROBBINS: I'm jest tellin' yuh, it slipped by me. An' then
I had tuh git the hay in fo' the rain would come.
RUBIN: You, a white Southern gentleman, chivalrous,
respecting white womanhood, saw this terrible attack
by a negro on a white woman and you let it slip your
mind and worried about your hay and went on with
your work as usual? Didn't you ever tell anyone about
it?
ROBBINS: No, I ain't tol' nobody.
RUBIN: Nobody in the world?
ROBBINS [red and perspiring]: No, nobody.
RUBIN [sharply]: Then how were you called as a witness
to the trial at Cookesville? How are you here, now?
ROBBINS [mopping his face with a bandana]: I dunno.
RUBIN: That's all. [Crosses back to his table. DADE rises
and calls]
DADE: If it please your Honor, the state rests.
[Muttering in court. PEOPLE stretch and talk]
RUBIN: If it please the court, I move for a dismissal of the
indictment of the People against Hey wood Parsons on
the grounds of complete lack of any reasonable evi-
dence.
JUDGE [perfunctorily] : Overrule the motion.
RUBIN [almost simultaneously]: Exception.
ACT THREE l6l
JUDGE: Will the defense kin'ly proceed with its case.
RUBIN: I call the defendant, Hey wood Parsons.
GUARD: Hey wood Parsons!
[He rises at defense table, his arm held by a SOLDIER.
Conversation in court. One or two distinct epithets
are heard.]
SOLDIER: Come on, shine. Hurry up.
PARSONS [in a low, but distinct tone]: My name is Hey-
wood Parsons.
ROKOFF [to SOLDIER, loudly]: That man's got a name.
Use it.
SOLDIER: Yes suh.
[PARSONS seats himself on witness chair.]
JUDGE: The court wishes to make an announcement.
There have been rumors of meetings in and about this
town where mob spirit would determine by itself the
guilt or innocence of this defendant. I want to say
that I have no patience with this illegal attitude and
that any men who attend such meetings ought to be
ashamed of themselves. And if any group is thinking
of engaging in anything that would cause the death of
this defendant . . . then that to me is murder, cow-
ardly murder . . . and I hereby order these deputies
and soldiers to defend with their lives and to ... kill
any man who attempts such an action. Gentlemen, I
have spoken harsh words but every word is true and
we must take a stand of right and wrong. Let the de-
fense continue with its case.
RUBIN: You are accused as having attacked and raped and
l62 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
aiding such a rape on the person of Virginia Ross. Were
you on that train?
PARSONS: Yes suh.
RUBIN: Did you do these things as stated?
PARSONS: I done never seen them gals 'til I saw them in
the Cookesville jail.
[Muttering in courtroom. The CAPTAIN crosses and seats
himself on a chair alongside the JUDGE'S dais. He looks
about the room sharply.]
RUBIN: Where were you on that train?
PARSONS [points to model of train on a table near him]:
I was on one of 'em gondolas like that theah.
RUBIN: Which boys were you with?
PARSONS: I was with Eugene Walters, Andy Wood an'
Roy Wood an' thassall.
RUBIN: Where were the other negro boys?
PARSONS: I never met n'air one them Atlanta boys 'til
that drove of men roped us together at Rocky Point.
RUBIN : What part of the train were they in?
PARSONS: I dunno. I never done seen 'em on the train.
RUBIN: All right. That's all. [Nods to DADE. He rises and
crosses to PARSONS. RUBIN retires]
DADE: You are Hey wood Parsons?
PARSONS: Yes, I am.
DADE: And you were tried in Cookesville and convicted
of rape . . . ?
PARSONS: No suh, I was framed in Cookesville. [VOICES.]
DADE [annoyed]: Now answer my questions! Didn't you
and a gang of other negras throw off those white boys
from that train because you saw the girls . . . ?
ACT THREE 163
PARSONS: No suh. That Tulley boy, he was jumpin' off
the wrong way an' would have killed hisself but I co't
him by the collar an' pulled him back.
DADE: You pulled him back to kill him, to torture
him . . . ?
PARSONS: I never done dat, please suh.
DADE: Then you jumped into the next car where the gals
were and you and your fiendish gang attacked and
ravished them. Didn't you?
PARSONS: No suh, please suh. I didn't done dat at all.
That Tulley boy was theah all the time. He seed
nuthin' happened an' he coulda said dat at the Cookes-
ville trial but Mist' Brady didn't even ask him.
DADE: Shut up. I didn't ask you that. [To CLERK.] Strike
that out, please. [He is a very high-strung, nervous type
and is very tense.] You confessed in Cookesville that
you saw these other negras attack the girls. Didn't you
confess to this?
PARSONS: Yessuh, I done dat but . . .
DADE: You did it! That's all. [Returns to his table. RUBIN
crosses to PARSONS.]
RUBIN [to PARSONS] : Why did you make that confession?
PARSONS: They made me tuh do it, please suh. They beat
me up awful theah. An' woulda killed me if I hadn't
done it. I held out but I jest couldn't no mo'. . . .
RUBIN: Then it is not true that you saw your friends at-
tack the girls?
PARSONS: No suh, it ain't true at all, please suh.
RUBIN: You don't have to "please suh" me. Now you say
you pulled that Tulley boy back on the train and he
164 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
would have seen everything if there had been anything
to see?
PARSONS: Yassuh. He would' ve seen ev'rything but
nuthin' done happened.
RUBIN: Did he testify at your trial?
PARSONS: No suh. He were never at my trial.
RUBIN: Was he in Cookesville?
PARSONS: Sho'. He was in the jail-house all the time. I
saw him theah. Everybody seen him. . . .
RUBIN: And he was never called to your trial?
PARSONS: No suh.
RUBIN: That's all. [Turns to BADE.] Is the state interested
in further examination of this defendant?
DADE [muttering]: No, I wouldn't talk to that nigger.
[PARSONS is led back to his place. Muttering in the court.
RUBIN is becoming accustomed to DADE'S remarks and
actions and only looks at him with little concealed
scorn.]
RUBIN: I call Dr. Oswald Morton.
GUARD: Dr. Morton.
[He enters. Seats himself.]
RUBIN: You are a specialist in gynecology and in women's
diseases?
[The court and everyone else again leans forward.]
MORTON: I am, suh. I am the chief of staff of that depart-
ment and consulting specialist in the Southern State
Hospital.
RUBIN: Doctor Thomas of Cookesville testified that an
hour or two after the alleged attack by five men, he
found in Mrs. Ross only enough sperma to make a
ACT THREE 165
smear. Is that possible?
MORTON [he is rather pompous but answers quite
naively] : Well Mr. Rubin, he really should have found
more than that, if she had been raped by five males
and only two hours before. Of course some of it could
have escaped on to the clothes.
RUBIN [playing with him]: But no attention was ever paid
to the clothes, Doctor. And not a stitch of clothes was
ever brought in testimony or in evidence.
BADE: We object!
RUBIN: You want the truth in this case?
DADE [taken by surprise; vehemently]: Yes, indeed.
RUBIN: Then let's get to the truth.
MORTON: You mean, Mr. Rubin, they never paid any
attention to the clothes? Why, what happened to them?
RUBIN: You see, Doctor, it was sworn yesterday, that they
washed the clothes.
MORTON [innocently]: But why should they have done
that, suh, if they were the best kind of evidence?
JUDGE: Disregard that question, gentlemen. That is im-
material.
RUBIN: I don't know why, Doctor. No one seems to know.
Maybe it's a secret. And here's another point, Doctor
Morton. What was found in the girls, was immotile
or dead. Now, how long do sperma usually live?
MORTON [pauses as a woman rises and leaves the room]:
Well, suh, in a test-tube with a little care they can live
for days. And in their natural abode within the uterus,
sperma should live for many hours. In fact always do
live that long.
l66 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
RUBIN: Twelve hours?
MORTON: Oh, even fifteen and sixteen hours.
RUBIN: And here they were all dead, after only one to
two hours . . . ?
DOCTOR MORTON: It's strange. There must be some ex-
planation . . .
RUBIN: But we have this explanation and proof of it, too.
You see, Mrs. Ross and Lucy Wells spent the two
previous nights in the intimate company of two white
boys. Wouldn't that explain the presence of the dead
cells?
[MORTON nods.]
DADE: We object to you prompting this witness.
RUBIN: I am not prompting anyone.
MORTON: That would explain it very plausibly.
JUDGE: Don't answer that question, Doctor.
RUBIN [generously]: Never mind, that's all. Thank you,
Doctor. [Gestures to DADE. DADE waves his hand in nega-
tion. DOCTOR bows to jury and JUDGE and exits] I call
Lewis Collins.
GUARD: Lewis Collins!
[He enters and crosses to witness chair]
RUBIN: Were you aboard that freight train?
COLLINS: Yes suh.
RUBIN: Where were you the night before that?
COLLINS: Me an' Virginia Ross an' Lucy Wells was to-
gether with that Tulley boy in a hobo jungle outside
of Chattanoogie an' stayed all night theah.
RUBIN: That's all. [To DADE.] Your witness, General.
DADE [rushes to COLLINS like a panther ready to spring.
ACT THREE 167
RUBIN retires to his table. The reporters are excited by
this surprise testimony. Much activity among them.
Much muttering in the courtroom]: Where did you
meet Virginia Ross?
COLLINS: Yuh want me tuh tell the hull story right sho'?
DADE: Yes and tell the truth.
COLLINS: I aim tuh do only that. Well, I dunno wheah
tuh haid in exac'ly. But I hitch-hiked down tuh Chat-
tanooga from Knoxville tuh look fo' work, an' not
findin' any theah, I co't a blin' fo' Humbolt wheah I
got some kinfolk. Soon as I got tuh Humbolt the rail-
road dicks picked me up, an' threw me into the jail
fo' vagrancy.
DADE [pacing up and down, restlessly] : The jail at Cookes-
ville?
COLLINS: No ... a coupla months befo' . . . the jail
at Humbolt. The next day they give me fifty days on
the chain-gang. Well, after I had been theah 'bout
three hours, they throwed in with me this Jim Arthur
and as I could see the wimmen's cell from my cell, I
saw them throw in Virginia Ross at the same time as
they throwed in Jim.
DADE: Well, come to the point.
COLLINS: I am now. We got to talkin' and I asked Jim
whut he was in fo' an' he said . . . 'the best thing in
the world, buddy.' He tol' me later as how they co't
him fornicatin' 'round with Virginia. Later they
charged them both with lewdness an' give 'em fifty
days each. Virginia, she got out in ten days, 'cose Jim,
he paid off her fine. But me an' him, we worked to-
l68 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
gether on the chain-gangs up the road.
DADE: Well, hurry up.
COLLINS: Well, Virginia, she would come out every
coupla days tuh bring Jim tobaccy an' she gave me
some too. An' one day she brought 'long with her,
Lucy Wells. An' that's how I met up with 'em all. Then
when we got out, we all planned this bummin' trip.
DADE: Where did you do this planning?
COLLINS: Right on the outside of town.
DADE: Who was there with you?
COLLINS: Me an' Lucy an' Virginia an' Jim Arthur.
DADE [sharply]: Can you describe this place in detail?
COLLINS: Oh, I could never fo'git that place. Theah was
a nice li'l gulley-like with vines an' some sweet-smellin'
honey-suckle, an' a coupla small trees . . .
DADE [interrupting, impatient]: What did you do there?
COLLINS: Oh, we talked an' had some fun. . . .
DADE: I want to know everything you did there. What
was the very first thing you did?
COLLINS [smiling]: The very first thing I did, suh, was tuh
hang up my hat on the limb of a tree . . . [The audi-
ence snickers. The reporters laugh and even the judge
smiles] . . . then Jim, he an' Virginia moved off a
coupla-three feet an' I jest went tuh work with Lucy.
DADE: You mean you . . . ?
COLLINS: Sho' thing. [He smiles]
DADE: What were Mrs. Ross and Jim Arthur doing?
COLLINS: Oh, they were together, too.
DADE: How do you know they were together? How close
were they to you?
ACT THREE 169
COLLINS [describing with gestures]: Well, Jim an' Vir-
ginia was on the slope of this bank-like jest above us.
An' they would come rollin' down on us an' disturbin'
us, so I'd pinch him an' shoop 'em right back up the
bank. . . .
DADE: Never mind that. . . . [Throughout COLLINS'
testimony there are continual snickers and giggles in
court.] Where did you meet this Tulley boy?
COLLINS: We met up with him when we got to Chat-
tanoogie that next evenin'.
DADE: And then you say, all four of you spent that night
in the hobo jungle?
COLLINS: We sho' did. The nigger theah saw us, an' the
chile-parlor up the street wheah I bummed some san'-
wiches saw me an' . . .
DADE: And you expect the jury to believe this cock and
bull story . . . ? That's all.
[He crosses back to his seat after making a gesture of dis-
gust. RUBIN examines COLLINS again.]
RUBIN: Did you testify at any of the trials at Cookesville?
COLLINS: No suh.
RUBIN: Why not?
COLLINS: They jest didn't want me tuh.
RUBIN: That's all.
[RUBIN retires and SLADE comes forward.]
SLADE: Why didn't yuh go by yo'self tuh testify, if what
you say is true?
COLLINS: Well, I had all the trouble I wanted fo' the
time-bein'. I wasn't huntin' fo' no mo'.
SLADE: Then why do you come heah with this tale now?
170 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
COLLINS: Well, I felt I kept quiet long enough. An' when
I read that the Supreme Co't done give them negras a
new trial, I jest felt I must come heah an' tell whut
I know. An' now I'm feelin' plenty better right
heah. . . . [Touches his heart.]
SLADE [irritated] : Are you a member of this Communist
party? [He pronounces it: Communist.]
COLLINS: No, I ain't nuthin' to it.
RUBIN [simultaneously]: Objection.
JUDGE: Sustain the objection.
SLADE [hardly pausing, thoroughly out of temper and in
a loud voice]: Don't you know, Lewis Collins, that
you're helpin' tuh shoot holes in the red, white an' blue
flag of our country?
[At defense table, CHENEY rises.]
CHENEY [in a high quivering tremolo]: Sto — p! Sto — p!
Mist' Slade, my daddy an' yo' daddy are buried in hal-
lowed ground fo' shootin' holes in that same flag. An'
you kin insult the mem'ry of yo' daddy but sto — p!
Don't yuh try tuh insult the mem'ry of my daddy. . . .
[Seats himself, all atremble.]
SLADE [addressing CHENEY] : I didn't mean tuh insult the
mem'ry of yo' daddy, General Cheney. I only meant
that this heah tramp has come down heah with these
New York clothes an' thinks he can prevent the due
course of justice in this heah co't. But . . . [He sees
RUBIN rising.] I'm through, thassall.
RUBIN: I move for a mistrial, your Honor. In all my years
at the bar, I have never witnessed or heard such
preposterous examining. . . . The constant insinu-
ACT THREE 171
ations concerning Lucy Wells . . . the allusions to
clothes. . . .
DADE [jumping up, in a literal fury]: If it please your
Honor, I wouldn't have brought it up if the honorable
defense attorney had not brought it up himself. But I
would like to report that the people of this county
have spent hundreds of dollars trying to trace Lucy
Wells who disappeared on February twenty-first from
her home. What has happened to her? God only
knows . . . !
RUBIN [with suppressed anger]: What relevancy has this
statement . . . ?
DADE [in anger]: It has this relevancy. That one of our
most important witnesses, three weeks before a trial,
is suddenly spirited away by certain interested parties
anxious to keep her convicting testimony out of this
co't-room. . . .
RUBIN: I object. [The court by this time is in an uproar.
The REPORTERS are in a frenzy of excitement. The
JUDGE hammers in vain with his gavel. DADE jumps
excitedly up and down in front of the jury, waving his
arms wildly. RUBIN stands in front of the bench, thun-
dering his objections. There is a literal tumult. COL-
LINS in the interim is led out] I demand an explanation
for this behavior.
[It almost seems as if the slow, slumbering volcano sud-
denly blew up. Everything now belies the amenities
and'niceties that were observed before]
DADE [screaming]: We, too demand an explanation! I
have been bringing up this question for days, and for
172 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
days the defense has seen fit to disregard me and re-
main silent. Why has the defense remained silent to
my questions? Why has it continued to disregard them?
RUBIN [striding up to him]: What do you mean? Are you
implying that we kidnapped Lucy Wells?
DADE: I imply nothing. I only repeat that Lucy Wells has
either been killed or hidden away by interested par-
ties. . . .
[Many voices in the court-room agree with him.]
RUBIN: If the court please . . . [ROKOFF'S assistant, TRAV-
ERS suddenly hurries in and whispers to his superior.
He rises and leaning over whispers excitedly to RUBIN.
RUBIN starts and makes an ejaculation but quickly con-
trols himself. TRAVERS rushes out again and RUBIN con-
tinues but with an altered tone.] If the court please,
the defense asks for a postponement of fifteen minutes
before it rests its case.
JUDGE: I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Rubin.
RUBIN: Ten minutes?
JUDGE: Sorry, Mist' Rubin.
RUBIN: Five min . . . ? [TRAVERS has now rushed back
into the courtroom and catching RUBIN'S sleeve whis-
pers to him. RUBIN'S eyes light up. Then to JUDGE.]
If the court please, I shall call my next witness. . . .
Lucy Wells! [He points his finger dramatically to the
rear of the room. Almost as if it had been staged, LUCY
WELLS walks in and down the aisle. With her is RUSSELL
EVANS. He remains in the rear of the court, standing
and keeping a watchful eye on LUCY. The court is
spell-bound.] I ask that she be sworn.
ACT THREE 173
[LUCY takes stand. CLERK swears her to the oath.]
CLERK [the court still remains extremely quiet]: Do you
swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing
but the truth, so help you Gawd? Answer, I swear.
LUCY: I swear. [She seats herself]
JUDGE [to the photographers, who have been setting up]:
Kindly don't take any pictures now, gentlemen.
RUBIN [he questions her in a slow, tense voice]: Lucy
Wells, have you ever seen me before in your life?
LUCY: Not as I know of. ...
RUBIN: Did you ever meet me before this minute?
LUCY: No, I never did.
RUBIN: Were you with Lewis Collins on the outskirts of
Humbolt, together with Jim Arthur and Virginia Ross?
LUCY: Yes suh.
RUBIN: Did you spend that night together with Lewis
Collins?
LUCY: Yes suh.
RUBIN: Did you leave with him and Virginia Ross, the
next day for Chattanooga?
LUCY: Yes suh.
RUBIN: Where did you spend that night?
LUCY: We stayed in a jungle with another young feller.
RUBIN: Who?
LUCY: That Tulley boy.
RUBIN: Can you identify Lewis Collins?
LUCY: Yes suh.
GUARD: Lewis Collins.
[He enters and crosses down front]
COLLINS [in a low voice]: Hello, Lucy.
174 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
LUCY [blushing]: 'Lo, Lewis.
RUBIN: Who is this boy?
LUCY: Lewis Collins.
[GUARD takes COLLINS out]
RUBIN: Can you identify Virginia Ross?
LUCY: I sho' can.
[RUBIN gestures to GUARD.]
GUARD [calls into room]: Mrs. Ross.
[She enters, her eyes flashing hate and anger. Her face is
all convulsed]
RUBIN: Is this woman Virginia Ross?
LUCY: She's her, right sho'. Tho' she's fleshened up some.
VIRGINIA [can no longer control herself, screams]: Now,
you listen heah, yuh slutty . . . [DADE rushes to her
side] Yuh bet' stop yo' lyin', Lucy Wells, an' tell
whut yuh oughta. . . .
DADE: Mrs. Ross, please! Keep yo' temper. Keep yo' tem-
per . . . !
[He and the GUARD rush her out]
VOICE [a MAN stands up and shouts] : That Collins boy and
Lucy Wells ain't fit tuh belong tuh the white race.
They oughta be strung up. . . .
[Much noise and commotion]
RUBIN [furious]: Your Honor, if these stupid comments
do not cease, I will demand that the court be cleared.
This is no Roman circus.
JUDGE: Sergeant. Take that man out. [As the MAN exits]
I want no more of these interruptions. Kin'ly proceed.
RUBIN: You were on that train?
LUCY: Yes suh.
ACT THREE 175
RUBIN: Were you attacked?
LUCY: No suh.
RUBIN: Were you together all the time with Virginia
Ross?
LUCY: Yes, I was.
RUBIN: Did you see her attacked or touched by a negro?
LUCY: No, nobody ever done come near us.
RUBIN: Your witness, General.
[He retires. DADE rushes to her.]
DADE: You swore at Cookesville that those five negras
raped you. Didn't you?
LUCY: I did. But I tol' that story 'cose Virginia fright-
ened me. She said we'd be 'rested fo* crossin' the state
line with men an' have to lay out a sentence in jail.
DADE: Where did you disappear to, on February twenty-
first?
LUCY: I didn't disappear. I jest went 'way to Chattanooga.
DADE: Whom did you go with? A representative of the
National Labor Defense?
LUCY: No. . . .
RUBIN [springing up]: Objection . . . !
JUDGE: Overrule the objection.
DADE: Who influenced you to leave your po'r mother's
home? Who persuaded you to come heah and lie . . . ?
RUBIN: Objection on the grounds of incompetency, ir-
relevancy and immaterial nature. . . .
JUDGE: Objection is overruled.
RUBIN: Exception.
DADE: Who?
LUCY [with a glance at RUSSELL standing in the aisle]: A
176 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
. . . young feller. . . .
DADE: What is his name? Where is he?
RUBIN: Object . . . !
JUDGE: That isn't necessary, General. Sustained.
DADE: What did he tell you that made you leave with
him? How did he talk you into this so't of . . . ?
LUCY [her chin up]: I ... I went with him becose he
... he liked me and I ... I was stuck on him. An'
he didn't talk me into nuthin'. I made up mind to
come heah an' tell what I know 'cause my heart was
achin' me fo' them negra kids. . . .
DADE [with a bit of a sneer]: And did this young feller
buy you these fine clothes . . . whoever he is? [Scorn-
fully gestures to her costume.]
LUCY: No, I bought these heah clothes myself, up No'th.
DADE: Oh, I see, up No'th. Who gave you the money for
the clothes? The N. L. D.?
LUCY: It was my own. . . .
RUBIN [simultaneously]: I object.
DADE: I want to prove that she's a bought witness.
RUBIN: This is ridiculous. Your Honor, is my objection
sustained?
JUDGE: Sustained. Gentlemen, don't consider that all.
That is not evidence. The court ruled it out. Proceed.
DADE: Who gave you the money to come down heah?
LUCY: A Christian minister.
DADE: You told the truth at Cookesville and now you've
decided for certain reasons . . . [Glances toward de-
fense table with a vicious look.] to come heah and lie
and betray your own kin.
ACT THREE 177
LUCY: I lied theah in Cookesville 'cose I didn't know
whut it all meant. If I would' ve knowed them black
boys was going tub burn fo' my lies, I never woulda
done it ... but Virginia Ross, she . . .
DADE: Are you trying to say Mrs. Ross threatened you?
LUCY: She frightened me, suh . . . an' she said, 'What do
we keer 'bout niggers, Lucy, we don't keer if they put
all niggers in jail.' She said that.
DADE: I didn't ask you what she said. . . .
LUCY: I tho't yuh wanted tub know, suh. . . .
[Mean-while the REPORTERS are scribbling away franti-
cally. The CAPTAIN removes his gun from his holster
and places it on the desk in front of him.}
DADE: That's all. [He storms to his seat. There a pile of
telegrams are given him. He tears open a few, scans
them hastily and tears them up, in anger}
RUBIN [in the meantime]: Have you told the God's hon-
est truth to this jury?
DADE: We objectl
JUDGE: Sustain the objection.
RUBIN: Was any woman on that train attacked?
LUCY: Not as I know of.
RUBIN: Did any of those negroes rape you?
LUCY: No suh.
RUBIN: That's all. The defense rests.
[GUARD escorts her to the rear exit. As LUCY walks up the
aisle RUSSELL comes down to meet her and protectingly
puts his arm about her. People rise, lean over and hiss
and threaten her but RUSSELL and the GUARD keep
them off. LUCY exits, her chin up.}
178 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
JUDGE: If there are no witnesses to be recalled, theah is
still time today for the arguments and to commence
jury deliberations. Is that agreeable? I hear no objec-
tion. General Dade.
DADE: Yes, your Honor.
JUDGE: How many fo' the state will sum up?
DADE: Well, first Circuit Solicitor Slade and then I'll fin-
ish up after the defense.
JUDGE: Good. And Mr. Rubin, how about yo' side?
RUBIN: General Cheney will follow Mr. Slade and I'll
follow him.
JUDGE: Very well. Are you ready, Mist' Slade? If you are,
kin'ly proceed.
SLADE [strides to the front of the jury. He commences
almost at a climax and somehow keeps it up by virtue
of his tremendous physical power. He almost roars his
words as he stands red-faced, bull-necked, a huge six
foot mass of beef]: Yo' Honor and gentlemen of the
jury and my friends of Dexter. First I would like tuh
review the evidence fo' you. You jest saw this Lewis
Collins, or better Collinsky, with his New York clothes.
Why, my friends, jest two mo' weeks with this Rokoff
an' he'd a ben down heah with a pack on his back
atryin' tuh peddle us goods. Are yuh goin' tuh stand
fo' this so't of thing?
VOICE: No, we ain't.
VOICE: Bet' not.
[Other voices respond. The court again begins its mut-
tering. The NEWSPAPERMEN are astonished at this odd
summation and become very excited and active. Even
ACT THREE 179
DADE looks worried as SLADE continues his vitriolic
denunciations and tries to catch his eye, in order to dis-
suade him but SLADE, almost fanatical in his fury has
eyes for no one, save the jury. RUBIN leaps to his feet,
angrily.]
RUBIN: I object to his infamous . . .
JUDGE [interrupting]: Overrule the objection.
SLADE [panting and perspiring. Soon his lips begin to
foam with spittle]: The prettiest Jew yuh ever seen,
this Lewis Collins, amovin' his hands thisaway and
thataway. . . . [Demonstrates with hands. Points to
defense table. During this harangue, telegraph messen-
gers run in and out, delivering messages to DADE and
the JUDGE. After reading a few, they crumple the rest,
angrily. Soon the JUDGE'S desk and the state's table are
littered and piled high with yellow and blue tele-
grams.} They think they kin come down heah tuh ob-
struct justice, in this heah co't-room. Yes, it was the
N. L. D. who brought in Lucy Wells, an' bought her
soul. The same N. L. D. who put them fancy clothes
on Collins, New York City clothes. And I tell yuh,
gentlemen, this Lucy Wells is guilty of perjury right
heah in this co't. And theah is such a thing too, as
subornation of perjury. . . . [Points again at de-
fense] That Wells gal couldn't tell yuh all the things
that happened in New York, 'cause part of it was in
the Jew language. Yes, but Virginia Ross, she don't
come down heah dressed in No'thern clothes like that
Lucy Wells. She should be believed gentlemen, 'cause
she stayed clean of the evil influences of New York.
l8o THEY SHALL NOT DIE
And I ask yuh, why did the Supreme Co't up in Wash-
ington reverse the fair decision of our own State Su-
preme Co't? Why did they insult us in this fashion?
Only because these Communists threatened the jedges'
lives with bombs an' poison. But we ain't afraid of
their bombs, are we? [VOICES: "No suh. We ain't. Like
hell we are." During all this, it is difficult to describe
the reaction on the newsmen. They act like wild luna-
tics, expressing in uncontrolled ways their amaze-
ment to each other. Whistling, drawing in their breath,
making comments, scribbling wildly, pushing their
notes into hands of waiting messengers who run out
crazily. The court is now muttering quite loudly.
VOICES: "No suhree. Tuh hell with them. Run 'em
out of heah."] Gentlemen of the jury, don't you know
that these defense witnesses are all bo't an' paid fo'?
Oh, my friends, may the Lo'd have mercy on the soul
of Lucy Wells.
[Deep VOICE in Court responds.}
VOICE: Amen!
SLADE: Yes, Amen . . . my friends. This happens tuh be
a Christian country, tell 'em that. . ..,..'
[RUBIN leaps up, now infuriated.}
RUBIN: This is madness. Insanity. I move for a mistrial
on the grounds that the solicitor has made open appeals
to race and religious prejudice, bigotry and local sec-
tionalism. Your Honor, a conviction now won't be
worth a pinch of snuff.
JUDGE [quietly to SLADE]: You will have to word your
ACT THREE l8l
argument somewhat differently, Solicitor Slade. Over-
rule the objection.
RUBIN: I except.
SLADE [somewhat cooled off]: I ... I never heard of
any man bein' alarmed, Yo' Honor, because of any-
thing I ever said. What am I doin'? I'm jest makin'
the same kin' of talk I allus make. [A REPORTER laughs
derisively, SLADE turns to jury.] Gentlemen of the
jury, I warn you — [Points to PARSONS.] free this nig-
ger . . . and every white father will tremble for his
daughter's safety as he goes to sleep tonight. Did you
evah heah, gentlemen, of a mo' damnable effort tuh
break down an' destroy this po' woman, Virginia Ross?
[Draws himself up.] Gentlemen of the jury, tell 'em,
tell 'em that Southern justice cannot be bought an'
sold with Jew money from New York. [Hits a climax
with this and returns to table.]
RUBIN [shouting angrily]: We renew our motion. Let the
record show that.
JUDGE: The co't rules that the statement regarding Jew
money from New York was improper and unjustified
and the co't asks you members of the jury to disregard
it and put it out of your minds. I deny the motion.
Proceed with your argument, General Cheney.
RUBIN: Please note my exception.
CHENEY [with much feeling. In high tremulous tones]:
Yo' Honor and esteemed gentlemen of the jury. I ask
yuh all ... why am I heah? I am a Southern lawyer,
born and bred in the South. Why am I, the former
l82 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
Attorney General of the great state of Tennessee, heah
in this court-room? Right across the Georgie line is
my birth-place. My daddy fo't in Georgie . . . fo't
against Sherman's march to the sea. Yes an' right out-
side this heah do'r, theah is a monument dedicated to
the mem'ry of my daddy an' yo' daddies who fo't in
that great struggle fo' justice, fo' the sovereign rights
of states. Yes, an' if my Daddy were heah today he
would fight as I am fightin' fo' the fundamental rights
of human beings . . . even if that human being is only
a colored boy. Gentlemen of the jury, this is not a
question of negro and white . . . this is a question of
justice and injustice. Do not confuse these issues.
Weigh the evidence carefully and as Christians anxious
to do good unto your neighbor . . . whether he be
white or black. Gentlemen, I am a Baptist and a Demo-
crat and as the Lo'd is above us, I am certain this heah
boy is innocent. I ask you to be fair, I ask you to allow
no blot, no stain, to besmirch your fair state. Our fair
South. And I beg you in the name of justice and in the
name of the Lo'd to free this po' innocent negra boy.
Gentlemen, I thank you.
[Bows to jury, to JUDGE and reseats himself. ROKOFF shakes
his hand warmly and congratulates him.]
JUDGE: Mr. Rubin. . . .
RUBIN: Your Honor, I wondered if it were possible to
make my summation tomorrow. I'm very tired and
therefore ask for an adjournment until . . .
JUDGE: I'm mighty sorry, Mr. Rubin, but the county
cannot afford any unnecessary delays.
ACT THREE 183
RUBIN [sighs]: Very well. [Walks to front. He does seem
fatigued.] Your Honor, gentlemen of the jury ... I
am here today for the sake of justice and the less I say
about sectionalism and prejudice, the better. Now I'm
not going to assault your ears with any such ranting
and raising the roof as you've been forced to hear
from the gentleman seated over there. I shall instead
appeal to your reason as logical, intelligent human be-
ings, determined to give this poor scrap of colored hu-
manity a fair, square deal. What was the argument of
the learned solicitor if not an appeal to prejudice, sec-
tionalism and bigotry? What he meant was: Come on,
boys. We can lick this Jew from New York. Stick it
into him. We're among our homefolk. Yes, gentlemen,
it was a speech of a man taking an unfair advantage.
A hang-man's speech. Now as for Jew money from New
York, let me say this . . . that when the hour of our
country's need came in April, nineteen-seventeen . . .
there was no question of Jew or Gentile, of black or
white. All ... all together braved the shot and flame
of Flanders Fields. No, they didn't ask us then what
we were, they asked us to go and lay down our lives
for our country and we went. We went and we left
thousands of our boys buried in the Argonne in
Chateau Thierry, and those who returned, returned
crippled and mutilated. No, no one said a word then
about which God you believed in, or what color your
skin was. Now, I'm not getting a cent for this work and
I'm not getting a penny for my expenses but don't
think that I came down here to be a crusader for the
184 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
social equality of the negro. I only came to see that
the law, granting equal protection to all races and
colors in our courts, is observed. And let me say this,
gentlemen. You know there have been threats against
my life. Threats and warnings. But mobs mean noth-
ing to me. Let them take me. Let them hang me. I
don't care. I'm not afraid. Life is only an incident in
the great Creator's scheme of things and if I can con-
tribute my little bit to see that justice is served, then
my humble usefulness will be fulfilled. [He opens his
collar as he continues. He is sincere and his voice rings
with inner conviction. He tries to shatter the grim,
stolid wall of lean, provincial, tobacco-spitting, hard-
mouthed faces.] That is what I want you to remember,
gentlemen, when you leave this court room, to decide
whether this boy shall die or not. [DADE is confused by
RUBIN'S method of speaking, always thinking that RUBIN
is finished. He therefore works himself into a nervous,
impatient sweat with the renewed climaxes of RUBIN.]
Now let us look at the evidence, itself, briefly. But
really look at it, dispassionately and intelligently. What
has the state done to show the guilt of Heywood Par-
sons? Their star-witness, Virginia Ross, has been con-
victed and has served time for lewdness and bootleg-
ging, drunkenness and immorality. She has shown
herself a liar and a perjurer over and over again. When
she said she passed that night at Gary Richy's, she
couldn't say where the woman lived nor at what ad-
dress. She couldn't remember which mills she applied
for work at. She stated she left Humbolt with Lucy
ACT THREE 185
Wells, alone. But she didn't. Lewis Collins left with
her. She said she didn't know Lewis Collins, yet she
spent ten days in the Humbolt jail, together with him.
She said Parsons hit her on the head with a gun. No
gun was ever found. She said she was bleeding. But
the state's witness, Doctor Thomas, swore she never
bled at all. Oliver Tulley, who is supposed to have
seen the entire attack and rape, as admitted by all
witnesses, was never called to trial to testify to this,
even though he was held for over two weeks in the
Cookesville jail, only fifty paces away from the court-
house. Another state-witness swore that he took a fifty-
cent piece from Parsons that belonged to Mrs. Ross,
but Virginia Ross swore that she was stone-broke. Who
is lying here? They are all lying. It is all a contemptible,
lying frame-up. Lucy Wells came here today, and told
the truth because her little child's heart could no
longer bear the awful thought of sending an inno-
cent boy to the chair. No, Lucy Wells didn't betray
you people of the South. She wants to save you from
committing a legal lynching. And what is all this in-
sinuation about her clothes and Lewis Collins' clothes?
What have a few dollars' worth of clothes to do with
this tragedy of injustice? Certainly, you don't think
that these brave children would risk shame and pos-
sibly injury to come here and lie for a ten-dollar suit
or a five-dollar dress? No, you don't believe that, gen-
tlemen. That's stupid. That's nonsense. No reasonable
thinking man would believe such a ridiculous insinua-
tion. Yet this is the only kind of evidence that the
l86 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
state can offer besides their perjured witnesses. Appeals
to local prejudice and insinuations of bribery. [Points
to MRS. PARSONS standing in the doorway, behind the
defense table. The sun's rays from the window are on
her brown tragic face. The tears roll profusely down
her dark cheeks. Her fingers continually twine and in-
tertwine in her nervousness and anxiety.] Look at that
poor tragic face of that woman, Mrs. Jeannie Parsons.
Yes, her skin is black, but she is a mother! A mother,
who fed her child at her breast with her mother's milk,
just as you were fed. Are you going to tear out her
heart, the apple of her eye, her baby, her son? Are
you going to strap him into a torturous electric chair,
slit his pants leg, shave his head, prepare him like a
stuffed goose for the cooking, then go and fry him,
scorch him, burn him alive with two thousand volts of
electricity, then cut out his insides in an autopsy and
finally throw back his charred and mutilated corpse
into his mother's waiting arms on the sole, lying,
miserable testimony of a whoref That is your problem,
gentlemen. [BADE makes a movement to rise, thinking
RUBIN is through but the latter continues. The RE-
PORTERS listen and write as they follow him. The court
is very quiet.] Gentlemen of the jury. You have been
chosen as intelligent, reasoning men. You cannot have
any prejudices, any hates, any preconceived ideas on
this case. You are to judge it only on its merits and on
the evidence. Consider carefully and well, before you
take on your souls and consciences, the awful crime
of convicting an innocent man. An innocent boy
ACT THREE 187
though his skin is black. Remember that when we, in
times of need and doubt, call upon our Maker to help
us, we do not call in vain. The Almighty God above
us does not ask if we are praying to a black man's God
or to a Jewish God. No. He listens to all His children
with the same compassion and generosity, and so I
ask you to join with me in common prayer. . . . [Lifts
up his arms, and with trembling, tired voice.] "Our
Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name,
Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is
in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and for-
give us our trespasses, even as we forgive those who
trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil. Amen." [He holds a moment
of silence, nods to JURY and JUDGE and returns to his
seat, weary and exhausted.]
JUDGE: Attorney General Bade . . . are you ready with
the final argument fo' the state?
DADE [high-strung, nervous, tense and somewhat in a
shrill voice]: Your Honor and gentlemen of the jury.
I do not want a verdict based on racial prejudice or
religions creed. I want a verdict only on the merits of
this case. On that evidence, gentlemen, theah can be
but one verdict . . . and that verdict is death. Death
in the electric chair for the rape of Virginia Ross.
[Points to PARSONS.] Acquit . . . free that thing . . .
and when you free it, put a garland of roses around
his neck. Give him a supper, send him up to New York
City and theah dress him up in a full dress suit, put
a cane in his hand and a silk hat on his head, then have
l88 THEY SHALL NOT DIE
him strut up and down Fifth Avenue. [Quiet mutter-
ing in court.] No, the rest of the world cannot, must
not interfere with the dispensation of justice in this
state. I am no murderer. I don't have to have people
come down heah and tell me the right thing to do. I
would throw out all these indictments if I thought fo'
a single moment that these negras were innocent. No!
This is no framed prosecution, this is a framed de-
fense! [Points to defense table.] Now gentlemen, I'm
not going to take up yo' time. My evidence is clearly
in yo' minds, but I want you to know that this has been
a fair trial, a fair trial despite what radicals who want
to overthrow the government, write in those tele-
grams. [Points to telegrams on his table.] Yes, as fair
a trial as was given in Cookesville. And let me tell you
too, that if this defendant comes to me, to the Board
of Pardons of which I have the honor to be Chairman
and applies for a pardon from me, that I will give him
every consideration he deserves. Yes my friends, I am
born in this fair state and my grand-daddy fought in
the War of the States, yes and my daddy would have
fought in it too, if he would have been old enough.
But unfortunately he wasn't and now he sits on the
Supreme Co't bench of this state and he himself wrote
the majority opinion against having this new trial. Do
you think my daddy would have done that if he thought
his son were fighting an unjust cause? No! He would
not. I dare any man to stand up and say he would.
Gentlemen of this jury, Lucy Wells sold out, yes, sold
out for a gray coat and a gray hat, sold out to the
ACT THREE 189
devil. She has turned against her own folk, her own
kin, repudiated her own testimony. Two thousand
yeahs ago, our Lo'd was sold out by Judas fo' a few
dirty pieces of silver, but Lucy Wells did it fo' a gray
coat. And who bought Lewis Collins' clothes, who paid
his way heah? To lie and swear falsely? Who? I leave
it to yo' own imaginations, gentlemen. Remember
this, that we cannot, we must not permit this fiendish
criminal theah to go free. You yourselves know what
that would mean. It would mean, theah would be no
holdiri 'em down anymo'. Your wives', your sisters',
your daughters' very lives and honor are at stake. And
therefore, gentlemen, I ask, nay, I demand that this
horrible fiend, this rapist die for his terrible crime
he and his cronies committed on the white body of
Virginia Ross. I demand the highest penalty. . . .
De-ath. [He bows and returns to his seat. There he is
handed more telegrams but he sweeps them to the
floor in anger.]
JUDGE: Gentlemen of the jury. I give you this case now to
consider. Remember you are only trying one thing.
Whether or not this defendant forcibly ravished this
woman. We, the white race, must be just to our col-
ored brethren. The great things in life are God's great
principles and these alone can endure. Wrong dies and
truth forever lasts and we should have faith in that.
Remember, tomorrow is Easter Sunday, the anni-
versary of our Lord's Resurrection. Remember that it
is a Holy Day and that He would want you to be just.
[His voice is a bit shaky and husky as he concludes.}
THEY SHALL NOT DIE
The charge is rape and the penalty must be fixed by
yourselves. The minimum is ten years in prison and
the maximum is death by electrocution. If the evi-
dence shows you he is innocent, then you must acquit
him. If guilty, you will fix a penalty. Gentlemen of
the jury, you will please stand and . . . leave the
room.
[The JURY stands, turns and crosses to the jury-room, in
silence. The court-audience is silent too. The GUARD
shuts the door on them. A pause. Silence. Then sud-
denly from the jury-room, a sound of loud laughter,
raucous and derisive. As he hears this, RUBIN is startled
for a brief instant and turns slowly, not knowing
where the sound is coming from. Then with a half-
audible sound and an expression of mixed astonish-
ment and dismay, he rises slowly and speaks.]
RUBIN: If the court please ... I have seen and heard
of many strange and crazy things in my time, but I
have never heard of anything like that ... in there.
[He gestures toward jury-room.] But I'm not through
yet. Let them laugh ... let 'em laugh their heads
off ... this case isn't ended yet. ...
ROKOFF [rises and stands at RUBIN'S side]: No . . . and
our fight isn't ended either. . . .
JUDGE [rapping his gavel]: This . . . this is out of or-
der. . . .
ROKOFF [continuing over the interruption]: You have
the jurisdiction to stop us in this court . . . but there
are hundreds of thousands of men and women meet-
ing in a thousand cities of the world in mass protest
ACT THREE igl
against the oppression and ownership of man by man
. . . and over them, you have no jurisdiction. . . .
RUBIN [inspired and fired by ROKOFF]: No . . . we're
not finished. We're only beginning. I don't care how
many times you try to kill this negro boy . . . I'll go
with Joe Rokoff to the Supreme Court up in Wash-
ington and back here again, and Washington and back
again ... if I have to do it in a wheel-chair . . .
and if I do nothing else in my life, I'll make the fair
name of this state stink to high heaven with its lynch
justice . . . these boys, they shall not die!
[Laughter from the jury-room dies down and the
court-audience stare at him with eyes and mouths
agape. . . .]
CURTAIN
All characters, locales and names
of organizations in this play are
fictitious.
/
A NOTE ON THE TYPE IN WHICH
THIS BOOK IS SET
The text of this book was set on the linotype in Baskerville.
The punches for this face were cut under the supervision of
George W. Jones, an eminent English printer. Linotype Bas-
kerville is a facsimile cutting from type cast from the original
matrices of a face designed by John Baskerville. The original
face was the forerunner of the "modern" group of type faces.
^ John Baskerville (7706-75), of Birmingham, England, a writ-
ing-master, with a special renown for cutting inscriptions in
stone, began experimenting about 7750 with punch-cutting and
making typographical material. It was not until 7757 that he
published his first work, a Virgil in royal quarto, with great-
primer letters. This was followed by his famous editions of
Milton, the Bible, the Book of Common Prayer, and several
Latin classic authors. His types, at first criticized as unneces-
sarily slender, delicate, and feminine, in time were recognized
as both distinct and elegant, and both his types and his
printing were greatly admired. Printers, however, preferred
the stronger types of Caslon, and Baskerville before his
death repented of having attempted the business of
printing. For four years after his death his widow con-
tinued to conduct his business. She then sold all
his punches and matrices to the Sociele Litteraire-
typographique, which used some of the types
for the sumptuous Kehl edition of Vol-
— taire's works in seventy volumes. —
COMPOSED, PRINTED, AND BOUND BY
VAIL-BALLOU PRESS, INC., BING-
HAMTON, N. Y. THE PAPER
WAS MADE BY S. D.
WARREN CO.,
BOSTON.
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