TAMBOUR

A one act folk play of Haiti*

by

John F. Matheus

Characters

MOUGALOU, a peasant, whose passion is a drum

COISAC, a middle-aged peasant

GENERAL SANTEAU, Chief of the army of President Simon

GROS JEAN, a drummer

ZABETTE, a comely peasant girl

Old Man, soldiers, Cacos, dancers, spectators, old woman vender, boy vender, man who shakes gourd, man who beats iron sticks.

The action occurs in the outskirts of Ouanaminthe, Haiti, July, 1911, and in the village.

*Music for the dances has been composed by Clarence Cameron White.

(Copyright, 1929)

John F. Matheus

3

SCENE I

Four o'clock in the morning. The curtain rises on the last stages of
a "Dance Martinique". The dancers are still in fine fettle. At the right
of the stage, rear, Mougalou is seated on a stool without a back, two feet
high. Between his legs is a drum, called by the natives "tambou", or
"tambour". This drum is made by stretching a goat skin over a part of a tree
trunk, verying from six to twelve inches in diameter, from two and one half
to three feet tall, hollowed out and left open at the bottom. Mougalou is
dressed in ragged trousers, his feet are bare, and his nondescript shirt is
open. He beats the drum with his bare hands, alternating the heel of the
palm with outstretched, flexible fingers. He thumps with a certain wild
abandon, yet in perfect rhythm that is never once missed. At times he appears
to fall into a trance state, head thrown a little forward and to one side, as
if listening to catch from the air the mystery of his untiring beat. As the
crowd shout in their dancing he smiles to himself, with eyes shut and listens
still more attentively.

Next to Mougalou sits Gros Jean, a large, full-blooded Negro, who beats
upon a larger drum with the same accuracy but with less abandon. Then stand-
ing is a tall black who shakes a gourd filled with pebbles and another,
shorter individual, who beats together two heavy pieces of iron, each in
different tempo.

Some old kerosine torches made by stuffing rags, as improvised wicks, in
bottles and tin cans, are flickering low on either side of the quartette. On
left of stage are three booths, constructed by placing a thatched top of banana
leaves, over bamboo supports, the owners of the booths squat on the ground, one
selling drinks, another fruits, another dishes out from a large earthen pot,
portions of red beans cooked with rice, called "pois rouges avec riz".

4

The dancers hold the center of the stage. A crowd of spectators line the rear center and mingle back and forth buying from the vendors. The onlookers lead in the singing, in high pitched minors, intoned in unison.

At first, male and female, dance around in a circle, one behind the other. As the rhythm grows faster and more intoxicatingly bacchanal the dancers cease singing and divide into pairs. From time to time some one or two abruptly break into the singing. The paired off dancers now approach, now draw back, but never touch. The men hover over their partners like great birds of prey, holding handkerchiefs stretched wide over their heads. The women wear blue, red and white dresses, made in one piece reaching the knees. Buxom and agile, they are barefoot, gracefully tossing heads adorned with bright colored turbans. They weave back and forth in muscular undulations. All seem to be a part of a sea of vibrating rhythm.

Tropical scenery and a mountain show in the dim background as morning breaks. The dance goes madly on for several minutes. The men sing!

"Côté allez 'ou?

Ou--- ah--- Ou! "

The women answer: La--- ou la--- le'

La--- ou la--- le'.

Zabette, who has been leading the women's singing suddenly begins to tremble and quiver, her whole frame undulating with the contagion of the vibrating drums. She dances over to Mougalou, and while the others are singing she starts to expostulate with him gesticulating wildly. The drums and the rattles cease without warning. The dancers stop, one by one, as if they had been wound up and the mechanism had run down.

5

ZABETTE. (Arms akimbo) A crab may choke me if I like this!

MOUGALOU. (languidly) What! You don't like my drum beating?

ZABETTE. No! You don't dance with me. Not once. You have beaten that drum all night, mooning and moping like a Zombie. You're about as much use to me as a corpse. I will dance with Coisac in spite of all your threats.

MOUGALOU. Let him try.

ZABETTE. He is more of a man than you. You are tied to a drum. You'd rather beat that drum than eat, drink, sleep, fight.

MOUGALOU. You'd better beat it.

ZABETTE. All the women of the country side laugh at me. My rival is not even a Dominican hussy. Save your caresses for the drum. I will have none of them. I will give mine to a man who loves me. (Coisac stands on the outer edge of the group of spectators).

MOUGALOU. (angrily). Zabette, you little fool. (More calmly). You do not know that when I make the drums talk they speak back to me. They whisper the long lost secrets of the Congo. They tell the story of black warriors crashing thru the African jungles.

ZABETTE. What do they talk about when you take yourself to the mountains and leave me for days at a time? (Flaunting angrily from him). Go marry your drum.

SPECTATORS. Ah! Oh! What's the matter?

VOICE OF WOMAN. Peace, Zabette.

VOICE OF MAN. Don't bother the drummers.

SPECTATORS. Beat the drums.

GROS JEAN (To Mougalou and Zabette). Now look here, you all, I ain't beatin' no war drum. This ain't no war dance.

ZABETTE. Shut up, alligator.

6

GROS JEAN. Wish I was an alligator. I'd swallow you whole.

MOUGALOU. One time more, Zabette. (Rooster crows).

A VOICE. Hurry, it is almost daylight.

(A crowd of girls push Zabette from Mougalou).

ZABETTE. Stop!

VOICE OF GIRL. The drum won't steal him.

SECOND GIRL. Go see the papier.

THIRD GIRL. Get a charm for your Mougalou. You need a "ouanga".

ZABETTE. You have what you want. Let some of yours dance with me. Let some of yours beat the drum a bit.

(Mougalou strikes a decisive note on the drum, as if to end the argument. Gros Jean follows. The people begin to sing again, as the shaker of the gourd and the beater of the irons begin again vigorously. Zabette glares defiantly at Mougalou and begins to dance wildly. Coisac who has been going thru the dance movements on the outskirts of the crowd, now approaches Zabette, arms overhead, singing sensuously. They go around the circle together, weaving in and out, but never quite touching. As they pass the second time Mougalou abruptly jumps from his seat, throwing the drum on the ground, and runs between Zabette and Coisac. Gros Jean continues beating as if nothing had happened.)

MOUGALOU. (pushing Coisac roughly aside). Stand back, cochon.

(He begins to dance with Zabette. She turns her back, but continues to dance.)

COISAC. (picking up a machete, or cane knife, lying on the ground beside one of the vendors of coconuts).

GROS JEAN. Mongalou, watch yourself. (Great confusion.)

MOUGALOU. (turning) Coward.

7

(The dance stops. Zabette turns in time to see Coisac spring at Mongalou, knife raised. Mougalou siezes wrists. Long beating of drums has given him a grip of steel.)

COISAC. Turn me loose.

MOUGALOU. Drop that knife.

COISAC. (grimacing from pain.) Ay! (Struggling.) Ay!

ZABETTE. Don't let him stop us, Coisac. (Coisac drops the knife.)

MOUGALOU. (smiling ironically.) He is a man, like me, but beating of drums has given my wrists and fingers strength. Wouldn't you like to see my head on the ground?

ZABETTE. (Softening) Mougalou!

MOUGALOU. He is a man like me, yes! Yes, nature has so branded him, but his heart is weak, his strength is a mite thin.

COISAC. (slinking away.) My turn next!

(The stage grows lighter indicating sun rise.)

GROS JEAN. It's gittin' day, and anyway I think it's about time we stop this.

VOICE. Ah no, Gros Jean, not yet.

GROS JEAN. My wife's got to carry to market some of the hats she's been weaving.

ZABETTE. You old crocodile, you ought to be going yourself.

GROS JEAN. And let them Cacos git me! No, indeedy! I'd be ridin' along peaceably and pop, a bullet thru my head, or glug, a machete thru my throat, or "come and fight with us". No, I'm a peace lovin' man.

MOUGALOU. So you're afraid of the Cacos.

GROS JEAN. Who stole all my chickens last year? The Cacos. Who stole my best milk goat and left me only the hoofs? The Cacos. And that chief of theirs is a holy terror, goin' round choppin' off folks' heads.

8

MOUGALOU. Lies, lies, lies! Who drove off Simon's troops when they burned every other cabin in Ouanaminthe last February and pillaged us all? The Cacos. Who's going to check these fat officers from Port-au-Prince, that come snooping after their taxes? The Cacos. Why folks, they tell me that down in Port-au-Prince whenever President Simon appears in the streets, everybody, big, little, native, foreign, high, low, must stop, stop whatever they may be doing and salute him, Simon, head of the State.

GROS JEAN. Well that's jes' the reason why I ain't never goin' to Port-au-Prince. I can't be molested that way. And furthermore I ain't goin' to let'em ketch me in the road, none of 'em, neither Simon and his generals and soldiers, nor them Cacos and their chief and their robbers. No, siree! They're body snatchers, highjackers. Tote a man off to fight for somebody or other he ain't never seen and then leave his family a widow! So it's better that a man's wife do the appearing in public places.

ZABETTE. It's better for the man; but the poor woman who wants to be a widow!

GROS JEAN. If you were my woman I'd send you to market every day.

ZABETTE. And what would you have to send? A drum?

GROS JEAN. No, water and wood.

ZABETTE. Water and wood?

GROS JEAN. Yes, water in your eye and wood on your back, laid on with a stout cocomacque.

MOUGALOU. Well, I walk the roads, I do.

GROS JEAN. That's because you ain't got no woman to send.

9

MOUGALOU. Is that so?

ZABETTE. He must have bewitched her into a drum.

MOUGALOU. Such fellows as Coisac aren't worth takin'.

ZABETTE. Is that why you escaped?

MOUGALOU. I can stop a bullet.

ZABETTE. So can Coisac.

MOUGALOU. But he can't send one to stop somebody else. An' I wear charms!
(A bugle is heard.)

GROS JEAN. What's that? Cacos! (All turn toward the sound.)

VOICE OF WOMAN FROM CROWD. I see soldiers marching on the road.

VOICE OF MAN. They're Simon's troops.

ANOTHER. My God, you're right. By their caps they're Simon's troops.

MOUGALOU. (imperiously.) Keep quiet.

VOICE FROM ROAD. (off stage.) Left, right! Left, right! One, <u>two</u>, three,
<u>four</u>, One, <u>two</u>, three, <u>four</u>. Step lively there, grandpap.
One, <u>two</u>, three, <u>four</u>! Halt!

GROS JEAN. (making frantic gestures of despair and looking for a place to hide.) Oh, if only I had my donkey, my donkey!

MOUGALOU. Shut up, fool.

VOICE OF WOMAN. They're coming right this way, some soldiers and a man in shining buttons. He must be a general.

GROS JEAN. They're worse than sergeants. (General Santeau and aides appear.)

GENERAL SANTEAU. Halt! (Advancing.) We see that you have been having festivity.

MOUGALOU. Yes, General.

GROS JEAN. It ain't no festivity, nothin' but a dance.

GENERAL SANTEAU. We could hear the drums and a countryman guided us. (turning to the crowd.) I am looking, I hope, into the eyes of loyal subjects of his Excellency, the President-General Antoine Simon.

10

GROS JEAN. Indeed you is.

GENERAL SANTEAU. Then follow your leader's standard. He needs your services at once. This saves me much powder and shot, for if you were not his Excellency's loyal servants, I should be compelled under the circumstances to have you shot as enemies.

GROS JEAN. (shaking in terror.) My poor wife and donkey.

GENERAL SANTEAU. All men line up over here (indicating the left). Everybody, quick! (Several move forward.) I said everybody! (All move over.) Citizens, I am looking for Cacos. That is my business this morning.

GROS JEAN. We ain't lookin' for no Cacos. They're terrible fellows. Their chief is a devil.

GENERAL SANTEAU. Ah, have you seen him?

GROS JEAN. Why me? Seen him? No, no! Only heard about him, but I've seen his tracks. Same as if a hurricane passed by. Yet and still he never bothers us folks on the land. But I ain't trustin' him.

GENERAL SANTEAU. Who as seen this rebel Caco Chief? His Excellency, President Simon, has a reward of one thousand gourdes on his head.

(Murmur of astonishment.)

GENERAL SANTEAU. Who has seen him? Who knows him?

MOUGALOU. He's never been seen in these parts.

VOICE OF MAN. Sometimes he leaves us country people gifts of money and clothes.

GENERAL SANTEAU. Enough. I didn't ask about his gifts. I want him. He's an enemy of the State, a menace to peace and prosperity. Whoever harbors him will be shot as a traitor. (Gasp of horror) Is that clear?

ZABETTE. Nobody's a traitor here.

11

VOICE. No, we want peace.

ANOTHER VOICE. We want to dance.

COISAC. (Appearing suddenly from hiding. Approaches the general, giving him the military salute.) *Mon général*, with your permission I wish to make a charge.

GENERAL SANTEAU. (returning salute.) Proceed.

COISAC. (triumphantly.) There's one of the traitors (pointing at Mougalou), that man. (Murmur of astonishment.)

VOICES. No, no! He is our drummer.

COISAC. I am telling you, mon General. There is one of the traitors. He spends days in the mountains. Nobody sees him. I know he's a Caco.

ZABETTE. (starting.) Coisac, what are you saying?

MOUGALOU. You lie.

COISAC. Didn't you just say he was gone for days and days in the mountains, courting a drum?

ZABETTE. (bewildered.) Why, er--er--

GENERAL SANTEAU. (To Zabette.) Is it so?

ZABETTE. (frantically.) No-- no! I never said it.

COISAC. (To women) Didn't she say it? Didn't you tease her about him? Is it not so that he is gone for days? (Silence.)

GENERAL SANTEAU. (To aide) Fetch the soldiers. (Exit aide, after saluting.)

Now, maybe somebody will talk a little. (Soldiers enter - twelve men, in caps and blue coats, but otherwise ragged.)

Attention! Load arms! Ready. Now, by God, my guns will do some talking.

VOICES. Yes, yes, yes. It's so.

GENERAL SANTEAU. (roughly.) Arrest him.

MOUGALOU. This is murder.

GENERAL SANTEAU. War is murder. Revolt is murder, assassination, death. Where do you spend these days in the mountains?

13

MOUGALOU. And mine! I have talked with my tambour to the Papàlòi. I know its every vibration. (A soldier pricks Gros Jean with his bayonet.)

GROS JEAN. Là! Là! Là!

MOUGALOU. Who will look after my drum?

ZABETTE. (running toward Mougalou and trembling before him.) I-- I-- I will take your drum, my--my rival for your love, and I will keep it until you come back.

GENERAL SANTEAU. He's not coming back.

ZABETTE. (In tears.) Let him play once more for us.

COISAC. You ask him to play?

ZABETTE. (not heeding Coisac.) I never thought it would end this way.

CHORUS OF WOMEN. Yes, General. One more time.

VOICE OF WOMAN. You steal our men. Let us have one more dance with them.

ANOTHER VOICE. We bring your soldiers into the world. Listen to us.

GENERAL SANTEAU. (brusquely.) Three mintues then! Three minutes! (He pulls out his watch.) Level your guns on them, men. One move to escape and whoever tries it is a dead man. (Mougalou with an indefinable expression on his face sits flat on the ground. Gros Jean goes beside him. Zabette brings Mougalou's drum. Another girl brings Gros Jean's. Gros Jean waits for Mougalou to begin. Without preliminaries Mougalou commences a wild, surging beating. Gros Jean takes it up. The rattle and irons are silent. Only the drums beat louder and louder. The wild chant begins and the dance is on. Zabette looks on, watching Mougalou, as if stupefied. After three minutes the general puts up his watch and shouts an order.) Attention! Stop! (The drums cease at once. The women cling for a second to the men. Zabette runs to Mougalou, hesitates. He takes her in his arms.)

14

GROS JEAN. (To Zabette) Tell my wife to take care of the donkey. (The men fall in single file with soldiers on flanks and in rear. The General is the last to leave. The women stand huddled together, some weeping, some with frozen faces of despair. Zabette sinks slowly to the ground and throws dust over her. Suddenly away in the distance, as if from the mountain top, is heard the faint echo of a drum. The women all look up, listening as the curtain descends.)

## TAMBOUR

### SCENE II

Same place one hour later. The women are squatting about on the ground listlessly. Suddenly Zabette, who is sitting by the drums seems to see something off stage. She springs to her feet.

ZABETTE. (calling) Hoo! Hoo, Hoo! Come here. (beckoning.) Come up here.

WOMEN. (still on the ground.) What do you see?

ZABETTE. Men on the road. They're driving donkeys ahead of them loaded with stuff for market.

WOMEN. (springing to their feet and crowding behind Zabette.) Where? Where?

ZABETTE. Don't you see behind those coffee bushes.

ONE WOMAN. I see them now.

ANOTHER WOMAN. Yes-- yes. (calling), Ho!

THIRD WOMAN. These man! Either deaf or gourd headed.

ZABETTE. Wait, I'll get their attention. (Rushes to the drums and gives a series of beats on the larger one.)

A WOMAN. They're turning around.

ANOTHER WOMAN. They're looking this way. (Calling.) Come here. Yes, you.

ZABETTE. I knew that would bring them. We must tell them before they are trapped like those whom they have taken already. (Pushes her way

15

thru the crowd and looks toward the road, supposed to lie off stage
left.) Hey, don't drive the burros up here. (Shouting.) Don't
try to drive them up here. Don't try to drive them up here. (To
the women.) The animals have sense enough to object and pull back.
(Shouting.) Tie them under the mango trees.

ALL WOMEN. (Shouting.) Tie the donkies under the mango trees.

ONE WOMAN. Such donkies!

ANOTHER WOMAN. Men are like that.

ZABETTE. But we can't bear to have them taken from us.

COISAC. (Suddenly appearing from the rear where he has been hiding) and I for
one am not taken.

ZABETTE. (turning in astonishment) What! You here?

COISAC. Why, aren't you glad to see me?

ZABETTE. (angrily) Get out, you traitor, liar, deserter.

COISAC. I merely slipped back to get you.

WOMEN. Deceiver! Go, follow your General.

ZABETTE. Coward, craven, contemptible coward!

COISAC. (Approaching closer) You see, ladies, in daring to get within
touching distance of you, I am no coward.

ZABETTE. A bigger, whiter livered goose has never been born. Boasting among
women. Yes, among the blind, the one-eyed is king; among women you
are strong.

COISAC. Not so fast, my dark skinned beauty. What I did was for you. Didn't
you challenge me to save you? You woman, who does not know her own
mind, you are the deceiver, the fickle, unstable trickster.

ZABETTE. I know my mind, know it well.

COISAC. Ready to throw your heart at these fellows from the hills I bet.
Yelling at them on the road. Well, you can dismiss them now that I
am here, or turn them over to the crowd.

16

ZABETTE. I called to save them from wretches like you, who have no hearts.

COISAC. Indeed, Zabette, you have spoken the truth for once. What need have I of my own heart when I have yours.

ZABETTE. My heart did you say? Ha! Ha!

COISAC. Laugh if you want, but you'll play me for a fool no more. If I don't have your heart now I will have it, even if (threateningly), even if I have to cut it out. (Flashes his machete. Zabette screams; the women run back.) I see. You used me to bait Mougalou, eh? Then you will pay, just as Mougalou has paid. (The peasants called from the road appear. Two men, each with a fighting cock under his right arm and a basket of fruit on his head. An old man stumbles along behind using a cocomacaque as a cane. They are barefoot and wear wide rimmed straw hats.)

ZABETTE. (running to the men.) Save me from this man.

FIRST PEASANT. (glancing at Coisac and giving an almost imperceptible sign of recognition.) What's the matter?

SECOND PEASANT. Are you joking?

COISAC. (laughing) This is a joke. Mam'selle Zabette, these husky fellows are friends of mine.

OLD MAN. (with quavering voice) Fear not, child, for I see you guard the sacred drums. There are those who will protect you.

COISAC. (roughly) What's that you say, old man? Not too much of your mouth.

OLD MAN. Before the hen the cockroach is always wrong. I bow, sir, but be careful.

COISAC. Now, mam'selle, we'll talk over our little affair. You will give me your proud heart, I am sure, rather than have me steal it, cut it from your plump little body. Let us see. There is no rush. A little more excitement will not come amiss.

ZABETTE. So you threaten me now.

17

COISAC. I threaten to love, adore and steal you by fair means or by foul.

ZABETTE. True love is given. It does not have to be stolen.

COISAC. And who will determine when love is true?

ZABETTE. I have already.

COISAC. No woman will ever admit the truth upon first request. So, we'll try the Gods of chance. You are mine, you know that. I have you in my hands. (Zabette draws back.) Don't shrink, my love, I repeat you are mine. But I am a good sport. We'll let the roosters fight it out. I see my stalwart friends here have some fighting stock. Put down your baskets. You need have no fear of being forced into the army. I am sure of that for the army has gone ahead and I, myself, personally, have little interest in fighting, save chickens. I only want our patriotic drummers to get into the thick of the fray. We are quite agreed on that I believe, mam'selle.

ZABETTE. The monkey always takes care to see that the dogs have gone before he begins to caper.

COISAC. (derisively laughing) Ha! Ha! Ha! You have a sharp tongue. I like you the better for it.

ZABETTE. Shameless, cowardly monkey.

COISAC. Well, anyhow a monkey can bite. Remember that, now let's have a look at these birds.

FIRST PEASANT (holding up his rooster.) This is Bel-Amour. He is as good as his name and a better fighter.

COISAC. (examining the fowl, hefting it, and scrutinizing its spurs and under each wing.) I'll trust "mon amour" to "Bon, Bel-Amour". Now for the other champion.

SECOND PEASANT. He's never been beaten. His name is Guerrier.

COISAC. We'll have to change that name. I rechristen him "Mauvais Amour". (Giggling among some of the women. He examines wings.) No red pap-

18

per under his wings by chance to blind by "Bel-Amour"?

SECOND PEASANT. He needs nothing extra. It matters little what you call him, he'll fight right on.

FIRST PEASANT. And so will mine. But what are we going to get out of this?

COISAC. Goin' to get? You don't know who I am. You just think you know, but you don't.

SECOND PEASANT. Come on! You won't miss anything.

FIRST PEASANT. Why don't I know who you are? What I don't know is, who's goin' to pay for the fowl what gets his head pecked open?

SECOND PEASANT. Ah, you're getting cold feet all ready. Thought your *Bel-Amour* had never been beaten?

FIRST PEASANT. That's the reason I'm talking now, before your plumed warrior gets all the starch pecked out of his comb.

SECOND PEASANT. Is that so?

FIRST PEASANT. It is so.

COISAC. I hope it's so, because, in honor of mam'selle Zabette, I shall stake my luck on the bird that's worthy of her, *Bel-Amour*. If *Bel-Amour* wins, then I will take you, if not I will retire. What say you, Zabette?

ZABETTE. I will never consent to go with you.

COISAC. (drawing a revolver.) One of three things: Bet with me, go with me or die.

OLD MAN. Bet, my child, bet. Right will prevail. Right will prevail.

COISAC. Stand back. I'll shoot. (All crowd away from Coisac.) Come here. (To Zabette, who comes slowly forward.) Choose.

ZABETTE. I have no choice, so I will bet you, Coisac. Yes, I bet you and you're going to lose. My charm will protect me. I place my luck on *Mauvais Amour*.

COISAC. So let it be. Mine goes on *Bel-Amour*.

19

ZABETTE. Beware.

COISAC. I have a stronger charm. You're good as mine now. Come here, quick. Bring that pile of shrubbery here. Make an enclosure for the fight. I'll mount this box and see that all is fair. (He mounts, a box, waving his revolver. All, save Zabette, bustle about, bringing up shrubbery and piling it up to make a rectangular enclosure around which they stretch white cloth which a peasant woman is carrying in her basket. This is built back stage left, so that when the fight is on, the spectators crowd around so that the audience can not see the combat, but only hear the spectators describe it!) That's fine. Now are the fighters ready? (The two owners of the fighting cocks take them inside the enclosure. The woman and the old man crowd around. Zabette stands aloof. The men go thru the preliminaries, as if putting the birds against each other.)

FIRST PEASANT. Don't let them fool you, Bel-Amour. You've got me behind you.

SECOND PEASANT. Guerrier, I mean Mauvais Amour, do your tricks.

COISAC. (From box.) When I fire the gun, let'em start. Let everybody notice that the gun is loaded.

FIRST PEASANT. Stand up to him now.

SECOND PEASANT. You better not back down.

COISAC. Ready?

SECOND PEASANT. Not yet.

OLD MAN. Such things didn't happen when Christophe ruled these parts.

FIRST WOMAN. (To Zabette.) Come, Zabette.

ZABETTE. (shaking her head.) No.

SECOND WOMAN. Look how Bel-Amour steps around.

FIRST WOMAN. And Mauvais Amour is no bad stepper.

SECOND WOMAN. I hope he's not a side stepper.

FIRST AND SECOND PEASANT. We're ready.

20

(Coisac fires the gun. A murmur goes thru the crowd.)

THIRD WOMAN. This is an unfair advantage to take of us.

FOURTH WOMAN. I hope he'll get paid for his deviltry.

COISAC. (from box.) Don't you let my champion lose. Ah, that's a good one Bel-Amour.

SECOND PEASANT. Ah, Guerrier, I mean Mauvais Amour, fight, fight, fight.

COISAC. Shut up. I've rechristened him Mauvais Amour.

FIRST PEASANT. That's fightin', given like a brave fellow.

COISAC. Vive le Bel-Amour! (Murmur among the spectators, then silence.)

FIRST PEASANT. Oh!

SECOND PEASANT. Ah!

COISAC. Oh! Ah!

(Zabette turns anxiously toward the enclosure, as though she would rush up and see how the struggle was going, but hesitates and remains standing with a gesture of despair.)

FIRST WOMAN. Pst! Pst! (Haitian way of calling for silence.)

SECOND WOMAN. Lookee yonder!

OLD MAN. (grunting.) Uh! Uh!

COISAC. What did I say? What _did_ I say?

FIRST PEASANT. He's comin' back. What did I tell you? (silence. Then another murmur of comment goes the rounds.)

THIRD WOMAN. Well!

SECOND WOMAN. May a crab strangle me!

(Excited cries: He's weakening. Oh, look at that. Stop that.)

He's trying to run away. What: He's gone out under a hole. Ha!

Ha! Bel-Amour is a side-stepper.

COISAC. Stop him, stop him, fool. Bring him back.

(All run to the left to watch the first peasant chase Bel-Amour. He goes off stage and they peer after.)

21

FIRST WOMAN. How now, Zabette, Bel-Amour has run away.

(Zabette makes a gesture of joy, which she at once represses.)

SECOND WOMAN. (shouting.) He dashed under that calabash tree in the grass.

(Suddenly all scream and run back toward right.)

COISAC. What's the matter? (First peasant returns, panting and terrified.)

FIRST WOMAN. A snake has grabbed Bel-Amour.

SECOND WOMAN. Fell out of the tree, a "coulevre endormis".

FIRST PEASANT. Almost fell on me.

OLD MAN. (In great excitement.) I told you. I told you. The signs and
spirits wouldn't let Zabette fail. I knew it. Ah, beware, Coisac.
Beware!

(The chicken is heard squawking.)

COISAC. Shut up, dullards, dupes, ignoramuses. What's that got to do with
it? Snakes have a habit of hiding in trees. I've caught'em myself.
I'm not afraid of **mamalois**, **papalois** and all that rot. I defy the
Snake Symbol and I'll get that chicken and beat you yet. (He runs
off stage.)

SECOND PEASANT. Don't do it, Coisac.

OLD MAN. Beware! Let him beware! The Voodoo are not to be cheated. The
boastful are cut down. I've seen it. With my two eyes can I bear
witness. Justice must win and injustice fall, among the poor as
among the rich, among the little, no count folks, as among the big
and mighty rulers of the land. (Turning to Zabette) Take courage,
daughter.

ZABETTE. (Unable to resist gazing after Coisac) It's a sign. It's a sign.
I've been told about it.

FIRST PEASANT. What a fool!

FIRST WOMAN. The snake will curse him.

SECOND WOMAN. You remember Toucoune, who accidentally killed a snake?

23

the peasant grabs it with his left hand and holds firmly, while
he reaches with his right for his machete. They struggle, se-
parate, rush at each other again with knives upraised, seeking
a vantage point to strike. Coisac pushes his adversary back
until they disappear off stage fighting.)

OLD MAN. (Still beating the drum and intoning.) Ah, my people! My people! In the days my grandfather told me of, Toussaint Louverture wrought freedom with skillful hand. Peace and prosperity reigned over Haiti. Then he was done to death and Dessalines, fierce as the young tiger, snarled and clawed a way for our forefathers. And we became a nation. Then drunk with the dream of ambition, he also fell low. Up rose Christophe, Henri Christophe, and made himself our king in the North, while the gentle Pétion brought peace in the South. Respect and a place Christophe made for us and sealed it with the labor of black bodies, hundreds upon hundreds, toiling like ants up and down the mountain, the wonder of the Western Islands, the Citadel. In the valley by Milot he constructed the palace of Sans Souci and found there care and death at last by his own hand.

Ah, Haiti, Haiti, you have fallen from the days of our great founders.
(His voice rises in mourning lamentation.) Woe unto us! Our leaders
are reigning for gold and there is no peace in all the land. Let the
shades of Louverture and Dessalines and Christophe and Pétion draw
nigh and lead us out of this darkness.

(The women begin a weird crooning, as he beats and falling on
their knees, bend up and down, face to the ground. The first
peasant returns, staggering, blood on his face and body, his
shirt torn off, his knife red. All look at him. The old man
continues to beat the drum.)

24

FIRST PEASANT. The Great Snake has avenged me!

(The women croon their lamentation. The old man bows his
head and beats on.) The Great Snake has avenged me!

ZABETTE. (Dancing) I'm free. I'm saved. It was a sign. It was a sign.
Beat the drum.

(As the drum sounds a distant murmur is heard and the exchange
of shots.)

OLD MAN. (Stopping his beating of the drum, while all listen. The shots continue.) May Simon be defeated and Haiti saved from plunder.

ZABETTE. May Mougalou be saved, my Mougalou.

CURTAIN

25

TAMBOUR

Scene III

(The same evening just before sundown in the public square of Ouanaminthe. Mountains appear in the background. On the right and left sides of the stage are rustic seats. A bust of Toussaint Louverture is in the center of the square on a pedestal six feet high. The old man is seated nodding on the right. A crowd of women are in the center, talking and gesticulating vociferously.)

FIRST WOMAN. Have you heard any more shooting?

OTHERS. No. No.

SECOND WOMAN. Not since four o'clock.

THIRD WOMAN. There must have been an awful battle.

(A boy comes thru pushing a two-wheeled cart.)

BOY. (Shouting.) K'la! K'la! K'la! (Meaning Kola, a Haitian drink having properties of American soda water.)

FIRST WOMAN. Go on, boy, we have something else to think about.

BOY. K'la! K'la! K'la! (To old man) K'la, mister?

OLD MAN. (Arousing.) Here, son. How much?

BOY. One cob' (Creole for a coin).

FIRST WOMAN. Did you hear me?

OLD MAN. Give me one. (Boy hands him bottle of red drink. Old man drinks with much satisfaction and pays.)

BOY. (Screaming) K'la! K'la! K'la!

FIRST WOMAN. (Shouting at old man.) How can you be drinking red liquid when our men may be wallowing in their blood?

OLD MAN. Huh! (Indicating he does not hear.)

FIRST WOMAN. (More loudly) How can you be drinking red liquid when our men may be wallowing in their blood?

26

OLD MAN. (Cackling and waving her away.) When you've seen what I've seen you
won't mind. You ain't never drunk no boar's blood at the Voodoo
dance?

FIRST WOMAN. No.

OLD MAN. Well the old folks did, generations back.

FIRST WOMAN. Well the old folks did, but have you drunk blood?

OLD MAN. Blood? Yes. It's warm tho. This is cold. It's all we poor devils
can do anyhow, eat, drink and dance, then die. The generals and the
fin folks in the big houses have no bigger bellies than we and they
die.

SECOND WOMAN. Oh let him alone. Our men, what has become of them? (Zabette enters from left, dragging the drum left by Mougalou.)

FIRST WOMAN. Zabette! You carrying a drum!

FOURTH WOMAN. Sh! She suffers.

FIRST WOMAN. Zabette, where have you been?

ZABETTE. (Eagerly) What news?

THIRD WOMAN. None.

SECOND WOMAN. We know nothing.

FIRST WOMAN. Where have you been?

ZABETTE. I have been in the mountains. I took Gros Jean's drum home to his
wife and here (kneeling beside the drum) is the drum treasured by
Mougalou.

(A vendor enters, an old woman, barelegged and barefoot, wearing a
red turban and black dress trailing the ground behind but up in
front. She carries a wide basket on her head filled with fruit.)

OLD WOMAN. Bananes! Bananes! Avocats, oranges, mangos, des raisins!

(Chanted - French pronunciation.)

ZABETTE. Here, old woman, quick, an orange. My throat is dry, my mouth is
parched. (The old woman offers her wares to the other women. They

27

shake their heads. After Zabette pays her, she goes off stage,
shouting her wares.)

ZABETTE. (Eating the orange) How cooling to the throat. If I could as
easily cool my burning anxiety.

SECOND WOMAN. (Looking off stage at right) Somebody is coming.

VOICES. Who is it? Let's go. No. He is coming this way.

MAN. (out of breath) Vive! Vive! Vive la republique! A bas Simon!

ZABETTE. What: Simon defeated?

WOMEN. Tell us - quick - out with it!

MAN. The Cacos have routed them. What a victory! They poured over and down
the mountains like a cataract. They swept across the plain like the
streams after a heavy rain. Santeau and those left who haven't deserted,
for there were many poor devils like us forced into his army at the point
of the bayonet, well, they rolled them back. They ran, tried to fight.

ZABETTE. Quick, where is Mougalou?

MAN. Mougalou? Who is Mougalou?

VOICES. No interruption. Where are Santeau and his men?

MAN. The Cacos roll them back. They're fleeing South, where I hope they'll
not stop running until they reach Port-au-Prince and then they can jump
into the harbor for the barracudas to eat am.

OLD MAN. (Hobbling up) What's all this buzzing about?

MAN. The Cacos are coming! They've beaten Simon.

OLD MAN. Oh, are they fightin' again? Now when I was a young fellow, they
used to fight and get over with it.

WOMEN. Keep still, grandpere. We want to hear more.

ZABETTE. The Cacos! Are they coming here?

MAN. Yes. Their chief is leading them this way.

FIRST WOMAN. Holy Mary! The Cacos!

SECOND WOMAN. Ah! We escape from the Barracuda into the mouth of the shark.

28

THIRD WOMAN. They say their chief has a good heart for the poor, but against the rich-- (A shrill blast of a horn is heard).

ZABETTE. The Cacos' horn!

(A group of men rush in. One has a cow's horn strung across his shoulder. All have "machete" at their sides, encased in hand made leather sheaths. A few carry guns. They are reckless, devil-may-care adventurers. The women shrink to one side.)

FIRST CACO. Come on, comrades. Beautiful, buxom girls galore.

SECOND CACO. (Grabbing Zabette) You shall be mine.

ZABETTE. (Struggling) No, no! Please, don't. Leave me alone.

SECOND CACO. (Laughing) Don't you like a strong man.

ZABETTE. Coward.

SECOND CACO. (Spying the drum) What's this? A drum!

ZABETTE. (Furiously) Don't touch that drum.

FIRST CACO. Come, comrades. Let us sing to our "Neguesse".

They sing popular Haitian creole song:

"Ne guesse oh! Neguesse oh! Neguesse oh!
Sain dindingue femme pas la Viege.
Lo moin gaignin l'agent ou rele moin ti papa.
A le quie le moin pas gaingnin l'agent
de l'eau
Ou rele moin machanne de leau,
Neguesse Oh! Neguesse Oh! Neguesse Oh!"

Dark-skinned girl: Dark-skinned girl: Dark-skinned girl!
You are no saint I'll tell the world,
When I have money you call me your love.
When I am broke, you give me a shove.
Dark-skinned girl: Dark-skinned girl: Dark-skinned girl!

CACOS. Vive! Hurrah! Victory! (A cheering is heard off stage. All Cacos spring to military attention.) Vive le chef! Our leader! Our chief!

(A group of Cacos enter led by Mougalou. His arm is in a sling. All are astonished. Zabette, who is all dishevled from struggling with the Caco, looks wide-eyed at him.)

29

MOUGALOU. At ease, comrades. Let us celebrate our victory. We have fought
for the cause of freedom today against the tyranny of a single
man. We, who live the free life of the mountains, who plant the
crops in the day and at night dance to the drums, we are the makers
of Haiti and some day we shall get our rights. Let us dance! Let
us be merry! Let us forget danger. Our partners await us.

CACOS. A meringue! A meringue!

MOUGALOU. A Meringue we shall have. Bring forward the musicians.

ZABETTE. Mougalou! (Frantically) Mougalou!

CACO. Hush! Didn't I tell you that you were mine.

MOUGALOU. (Sternly) Silence! She is mine.

(The soldier Caco deferentially steps aside.)

ZABETTE. (Comes up timidly to Mougalou, touches him.) You, you, my Mougalou,
the Caco Chieftan, the beater of drums in the night and the Chieftan
of the Cacos! See. I have brought your drum to take it to my cabin.

MOUGALOU. Then you are not jealous of my bewitching drum.

ZABETTE. No, not now, Mougalou, for I know I have you and you shall beat the
tambour for both of us.

MOUGALOU. No, I can not. I am shot thru the wrist and (sadly) I fear I can
beat no more. But anyhow, I would rather dance with you, my Zabette.

ZABETTE. I will cure your wounded wrist. I will. I know the healing herbs
and you shall beat again the tambour.

(The meringue begins and as the happy couples dance, Gros Jean enters,
out of breath and mopping his brow. He looks in curious astonishment
at Zabette and Mougalou as they dance. As soon as the dance ends and
the music stops he walks up to Mougalou and shakes hands with him.)

GROS JEAN. To think I've been beatin' drum all this time beside the Caco Chief.

Uh-ummmmm!