10.

YOUNG MAN: White soldiers and black soldiers fighting for freedom.

OLD MAN: (Rising) Slaves rising from the dead for freedom.

GIRL: (Rising) Women lifting up their heads for freedom!

OLD MAN: Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!

OLD WOMAN: Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!

CHORUS:

His soul goes marching on.

YOUNG MAN: Everybody sing! (He starts the verse.)

CHORUS: John Brown's body

Lies a-moulding in his grave........

(As they sing, ALL exit. Enter the MAN and the WOMAN in old clothes. They begin to hoe in a field at the left.)

WOMAN: John, this ain't no freedom.

MAN: Free to work and get no pay. Lucy, how come we's

35.

White worker, too,
Here is my hand.

Today,
We're Man to Man.

(The YOUNG MAN, the LAUNDRY WORKER, the WOMAN, the MAN, the OLD MAN, the OLD WOMAN, the BOY, the GIRL, the MULATTO GIRL, and the NEWSBOYS begin their song of unity.)
As they sing the audience joins with them, and various members of the audience, workers, doctors, nurses, professional men, teachers, white and black, come forward to link hands with the characters in the play, until the players and the audience are one.)

LAUNDRY WORKER: (Singing)

Who wants to come and
Join hands with me?

YOUNG MAN:

Who wants to make
One great unity?

WOMAN:

Who wants to say
No more black or white?

ALL:

Then let's get together, folks,
And fight, fight, fight!

YOUNG MAN:

Who wants to make America a land
Where opportunity is free to every man?
Who wants to test the power of the worker's might?

ALL:

Then let's get together, folks, and fight, fight,
fight!

WOMAN:

Who wants to make Harlem great and fine?
Make New York City a guiding light to shine?
Who wants to lead the workers toward the light?

ALL:

MAN:

Who wants to know what America can be?
Who wants to make a land that's really free?
Who wants to save it from a fascist plight?

ALL:

2

And the tom-toms beat,
And the low beating of the tom-toms
Stirre your blood.

(Cool music like rippling water. Lifting her arms to the sun, the GIRL speaks.)

GIRL:

To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me---

That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! whirl! whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening...
A tall slim tree,
Night coming tenderly
Dark like me.

(The BOY has drawn near the GIRL and stands
before her. She looks at him, takes his
hands, and they gaze into each other's
eyes.)

YOUNG MAN: I guess I was like that boy a long time ago, when
we lived in Africa, and the sun was our friend. I guess
I was crazy about that girl that I met at night in the
moonlight under the palm trees.

(Roll of drums, like thunder! The BOY
and GIRL run away, right. The YOUNG MAN
speaks to the audience.)

I was Africa then
But the white men came.
I was in my own land, then.
But the white men came.

They drove me out of the forest
They took me away from the jungles.
I lost my trees.
I lost my silver moons.

Now they've caged me
In their circus of civilization.
Now I'm in a cage
In their circus of civilization.

In 1619 the first slaves came to Jamestown, brought
in chains in sailing vessels to America.

(Enter right four slaves: GIRL, BOY, OLD
MAN, and WIFE chained by the{}
together. They walk in a straight line,
meaning musically across the stage. The
YOUNG MAN joins them. They are followed
by an overseer with a whip. All
exit left except the Girl and the Overseer.
The GIRL mounts the Slave-block, wild-eyed
and frightened.)

3

(On Left, the OVERSEER sits in a chair tilted back, smoking a big cigar. Enter the YOUNG MAN, Right, crosses Left.)

YOUNG MAN: Mr. Mallory, the crops all sold, ain't it? Can you gimme my part now?

OVERSEER: Your part? What do you mean, your part, George?

YOUNG MAN: I mean my money that you owe me.

OVERSEER: You better be careful how you use that word *one*, boy. I don't owe you nothing.

YOUNG MAN: (Trying to restrain himself) But I raised nine bales, Mr. Mallory. And my contract calls...

OVERSEER: Your contract? Hell! What about my bills? What about the commissary store? What about that sow belly and corn meal I been advancing you all the year for you and your lazy old woman, and then kids of yours that you think so good to work in the cotton fields. Trying to send pickaninnies to school?! Huh! You're an uppity black boy, anyhow, talkin' about what I owe you! Why even after the nine bales was sold you owed me more'n a hundred dollars. Why, you ungrateful scoundrel, get on back there in that field and start plowing for next year's crop.

YOUNG MAN: Mr. Mallory, I ain't goin'. Not till I see the figures.

OVERSEER: You ain't going? What do you mean, you ain't going? Don't talk back to me!

YOUNG MAN: I ain't going. I'm tired o' workin' for nothing.

OVERSEER: (Rising) Are you tryin' to say I don't pay my field hands? Get out o' here. You impudent black cuss, you! Get out o' here!

YOUNG MAN: No, sir, Mr. Mallory, not without my money.

OVERSEER: You impudent dog! Get out o' here before I beat the hell out of you.

YOUNG MAN: No!

(The OVERSEER walks up to the YOUNG MAN and hits him in the mouth. The YOUNG MAN stands as if in a daze, then he suddenly deals the OVERSEER a blow that sends him reeling unconscious to the floor. There is a crash of cymbals. Whistles. The far-off cry of a mob. The MOTHER and FATHER are terror-stricken. The YOUNG MAN looks for a place to hide. There is no hiding place.)

MAN: Hurry, son, hurry! They gonna kill you!

WOMAN: Run, Wilbur! Oh, honey, run! Go the swamp way, so's the dogs can't smell no tracks. Run!

MAN: Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Son, hurry!

YOUNG MAN: (Darting wildly about.) There ain't no place to run. Seneschal

10

MAN: That black boy's
Still body says:

YOUNG MAN: Not I!

MAN: Not I!

VOICES: Not I! Not I! Not I!

(The Overseer sneaks away.)

YOUNG MAN: They killed Christ, didn't they, when he tried
to change the world?

WOMAN: But did he die?

EVERYBODY: No!

YOUNG MAN: They killed John Brown, didn't they, when he
tried to free the slaves?

WOMAN: But did he die?

VOICES: No!

YOUNG MAN: What did Angelo Herndon say when they had him in
prison for trying to help the poor? What did Herndon say?

VOICE: Let them kill Herndon, if they will, but a million
more will rise to take my place.

YOUNG MAN: You can't kill the working class, he said. And
when we rise...

WOMAN: (Begins to sing)

In that great settin' up mornin'
Fare you well! Fare you well!
(Repeat.)

CHORUS: There's a better day a-commin'! (etc.)

(The old spiritual rises triumphantly
as the YOUNG MAN takes his head from
lynch rope. He comes with tramp's
bundle on stick and stands before
the Mulatto Girl. The MAN and Woman
exit Right as the singing dies down.)

YOUNG MAN: So many things is wrong in this world, honey, but
the wrongest thing of all is poverty. Being poor, You're
the girl I loved once, now look at you! All painted and
powdered, and strong. But I know what happened. I don't
blame you for it. You was young and beautiful once, and
golden like the sunshine that warmed your body. But because
you was colored, honey, this town had no place for you,
nothing for you to do.

MULATTO GIRL: So one day, sitting on ole Mre. Latham's back
porch polishing silver, working for two dollars a week, I
asked myself two questions. They ran something like this:
What can a colored girl do on the money from a white woman's
kitchen?

VOICE: Two dollars a week.

MULATTO GIRL: And ain't there any joy in this town?

VOICE: Two dollars a week.

12

(The YOUNG MAN sits down on the edge of the stage beside the road. Enter WIFE, right, and BOY, left.)

Gee, but I got the blues.

(The piano sings with the sad, weary notes of the blues as he addresses the audience.)

Do you---all know what the blues is?

WIFE:

The blues ain't nothin'
But the dog-gone heart's disease.
I say, blues ain't nothin' but
The dog-gone heart's disease.
When you got the blues, you
She can't find no ease.
(Sighs)

I got the blues. Reckon I'll run down the street a minute,
see can I walk 'em off!

(She dresses and powders to exit from her dreary flat. At left, undressing in a dark hall bedroom, the BOY answers, too.)

BOY: I got the blues. Guess I'll go to bed. Maybe I can sleep 'em off.

YOUNG MAN: The blues is songs folks make up when their heart hurts. That's what the blues is. Sad, funny songs. Too sad to be funny, and too funny to be sad. Colored folks made up the blues! Listen!

(Loudly the player keeps on playing softly in the night.)

YOUNG MAN: You see, that's the blues.

(At right, a HUSBAND comes home from work and throws his hat and dinner pail on the table.)

Sometimes there's the family blues.

HUSBAND: God-dog it!

I work all day
Wid a pick and a shovel
Comes home at night---
It ain't nothin' but a hovel.

I calls for ma woman
When I open de door.
She's out in de street,---
Ain't no good no more.

I does her swell
An' I tree to her fine,
But she don't gimme no lovin'
Cause she ain't de right kind.

I'm a hard workin' man---
But I sho pays double.
I tries to be good but
Goes nothin' but trouble.

13

Trouble, trouble, I has 'em all my days.

Trouble, trouble, has 'em all my days.

Seems like trouble's gonna drive me to my grave.

(He snatches up his hat and leaves.)

I'm gonna get drunk.

YOUNG MAN: And sometimes there's the loveless blues---when all you get left is a picture of the one you care for.

(At left, the BOY who has been looking at his girl's picture begins to sing.)

BOY: All I want is your picture,
Must be in a frame.
All I want is your picture,
Must be in a frame---
So when you're gone
I can see you just the same!

(He stops and begins to talk to the picture.)

Cause you don't love me, baby,
Is awful awful hard.
Gypsy done showed me
My bad luck card.

There ain't no good left
In this world for me.
Gypsy done tole me,---
Unlucky as can be.

(Throws down picture.)

I don't know what
For weary me can do.
Gypsy says I'd kill ma self
If I was you.

(The Boy gets up, puts on his coat,
and begins to sing.)

I'm goin' down to the railroad
And lay my head on the track,
Goin' down to the railroad,
Lay my head on the track,
If I see the train a-coming
I'm gonna jerk it back.

(He exits, Left. At Right, WOMAN enters, looks around anxiously and begins to cry.)

YOUNG MAN: And then there is them-left-lonesome blues.

WIFE: Oh, Lawd! Looks like Jackson done left me. And I wasn't gone nowhere but to put my numbers in. Jackson, you done broke my heart this evenin'.

I ain't got no heart no mo'
Next time a man comes near me
Gonna shut and lock my door,
Cause they treat me mean---
The ones I love,
They always treat me mean.

19

OVERSEER: You'll pay it or move, and no smart talk about it, neither.

YOUNG MAN: (Rising.) Say, listen here! Who're you to speak to my mother like that?

OVERSEER: I'm the landlord. If you don't like it, get out of my place.

YOUNG MAN: Lonne see you get instead!

OVERSEER: What? This is my house!

YOUNG MAN: Yes, but you don't live in it! We live here!

(He towers above the Lendlord.)

This is Harlem.

(The OVERSEER backs away and puts on a waiter's apron. Woman begins to peel potatoes, YOUNG MAN to study. At the left a BOY holding a menu calls.)

BOY: Say, waiter! Where is that waiter?......Hey, Waiter! Give me an order of spaghetti and a bottle of beer, please.

OVERSEER: Sorry! We don't serve colored people.

BOY: What? You mean on a 125th Street, and don't serve colored?

OVERSEER: Sure, this is a white place.

BOY: (Rising) And you don't serve colored people?

OVERSEER: You heard me, big boy.

BOY: I might of heard you, but this is Harlem speaking now. Get me a plate of spaghetti. I'm tired of this stuff! Talking about you don't serve colored people. Ain't I an American?

(OVERSEER backs away, exits. The BOY addresses the audience.)

BOY: American? Of course, I'm American. I fought in the war.

My brother died in France---but I came back. We were just two colored boys, brown and black, who joined up to fight for the U.S.A. When the Nation called us that mighty day. We were sent to training camp, then overseas--- And me and my brother were happy as you please. Thinking we were fighting for Democracy's true reign. And that our dark blood would wire away the stain. Of prejudice, and hate, and false color line--- And give us the rights that are yours and mine. They told us America would know no black or white: So we merched to the front, happy to fight.

Last night in a dream my brother came to me
Out of his grave from over the sea,
Back from the acres of cements in France,
And said to me, "Brother, you've got your chance,
And I hope you're making good, and doing fine---
'Cause when I was living, I didn't have mine.
Black boys couldn't work then any here like they can
today,

Couldn't hardly find a job that offered decent pay.
The unions barred us; the factories, too,
But now I know we've got plenty to do.
We couldn't eat in restaurants; had Jim Crow care;
Didn't have any schools; and there were all sorts of
bars

To a colored boy's rising in wealth or station---

The world's been make safe for Democracy
And no longer do we know the dark inequality
Of being held back, of having no chance---
Since the colored soldiers came home from France,
Didn't our government tell us things could be fine
When we got through fighting, Over There, and dying?
So now I know we blacks are just like any other---
'Cause that's what I died for---aren't it, Brother?

And I saw him standing there, straight and tall,
In his soldier's uniform, and all,
Then his dark face smiled at me in the night---
But the dream was cruel---and bitter---and somehow
not right

It was awful---facing that boy who went out to die,
For what could I answer him, except, "It's a lie!"

It's a lie! It's a lie! Every word they said.
And it's better a thousand times you're in France
dead.

For here in the South there's no votes and no right.
And I'm still held back in America tonight.

Then I woke up, and the dream was ended---
But broken was the soldier's dream, to bad to be
mended.

And it's a good thing all the black boys lying dead
Over There

Can't see! And don't know! And won't ever care!

(OLD WOMAN ENTERS Left as a packet carrying a sign that reads:)

DON'T BUY HERE!
THIS STORE DOES NOT EMPLOY
NEGRO CLERKS

(Slowly she walks back end forth in
front of a store bearing the sign:
MEAT MARKET. The OVERSEER pushes out
in the white apron of a Butcher.)

OVERSEER: What you doing in front of my store? What I done to you? What for you walking up and down with that sign, destructing my business? Long as you trade with me, what is this?

OLD WOMAN: You know what it is, Mr. Schultz: You know how long I been trading with you, don't you?

OVERSEER: More'n ten years, Mrs. Brown.

OLD WOMAN: And all that time, I ain't never seen a colored clerk in this store, not one. My boy grew up and went to high school, and to college, and got more education than you ever had, but when one of your clerks died, and my boy come here to ask you for a job, you said: "No, you might give him a little janitor job, but you got to have a white clerk." (Loudly.) That's by I'm picketing out here, Mr.

Schultz, Harlem is tired! No work! No money! I tell you, Harlem's tired!

22

WHITE WORKER: I don't think so!

OVERSEER: Who're you?

WHITE WORKER: A white worker. You don't have to be colored to know what hard times are. Or to want a square deal. I can tell you that!

OVERSEER: Well, what do you want?

WHITE WORKER: A world where there won't be no hard times. And no color line---labor with a white skin'll never be free as long as labor with a black skin's enslaved.

OVERSEER: By God, you're a radical, too!

(White Worker and YOUNG MAN shake hands.)

YOUNG MAN: Friend, you understand.

WHITE WORKER: I understand!

OVERSEER: Radicals! Radicals! Look 'em up! Look 'em up! Radicals! Look 'em up! Radicals! Radicals!

(Exits, yelling loudly.)

YOUNG MAN: Quiet, please--because Harlem is tired.

WHITE WORKER: (As he leaves with YOUNG MAN.)

We're all tired!

(Wife enters Left, broom in hand.)

WIFE: Yes, we're tired! Tired as we can be!

(WIFE sweeps and hums an evil little song. OVERSEER removes glasses, puts on dark hat, carries a brief case, and is now an INSURANCE MAN: Goes to WIFE'S door and knocks.)

WIFE: Yes?

OVERSEER: (Cockily.) Insurance man! Got your book ready?

WIFE: You want me to pay you?

OVERSEER: Of course. It's due, isn't it?

WIFE: Um-hum! You from the Cosmopolitan Company, ain't you?

OVERSEER: I am.

WIFE: And you don't hire no colored folks in your office, do you?

OVERSEER: Not so far as I know. Why?

WIFE: You won't give colored people certain kinds of policies you carry, neither, will you?

OVERSEER: Well, you see, in some cases your people are bad risks.

WIFE: But my money's good money, ain't it?

OVERSEER: Of course, it is.

WIFE: And you want my money, don't you?

OVERSEER: Why, yes. Of course, I do.

23

WIDE: Well, you ain't gonna get it! (Fiercely.) A company that won't hire none of my people, what won't half insure us, and then sends a man to Harlem to collect from me that keeps his hat on in the house! (Overseer frightened, snatches off his hat.)

Well, you ain't gonna get any a penny of mine! Get out of here. Go on back downtown to your Jim Crow office. Tell him Harlem is tired. (Sheesh! him out) I'm gonna join a colored insurance company myself.

(The OVERSEER floors. Panting he sits down in a chair Right and is now a LAUNDRY BOSS. He begins to pay out money, while several girls pass before him.)

MULATTO GIRL: Chile, you better wrap up good. It's kinder chilly out there.

LAUNDRY WORKER: Catch your death of pneumonia, working all day in this steam ng oven.

GIRL: You told that right.

MULATTO GIRL: I sure am glad it's pay day. Let's get in line here and get our money.

OVERSEER: Here, Dorothy Mae! Here's your wages. Now don't get drunk tonight! ...Here, Miss Lizzie, something for your preacher tomorrow. Now, behave yourself in church! Here!

(As a good looking LAUNDRY WORKER approaches him for her wages.)

LAUNDRY WORKER: Toots, who?

OVERSEER: Why, er...

LAUNDRY WORKER: Is this six dollars all you're giving me for a whole week's work in your laundry?

OVERSEER: That's all you earned, girlie.

LAUNDRY WORKER: Sixty hours in this steaming hole, and that's all I've earned? You must be crazy. I've moned six hundred shirts this week, at least.

OV RSER: Well, six dollars is your salary.

LAUNDRY WORKER: Then you take that salary and stick it on back in your drawer, from now on, cause I am tired of working for nothing. Harlem is tired. You're living in a big house up in White Plains, and me slaving all day for nothing in your laundry. You making all your money off colored folks, and taking every dollar of it out of Harlem to spend. I'm tired.

OVERSEER: (Jumping up.) You must belong to the union. You move on before I call the police. You're an agitator!

LAUNDRY WORKER: What police? Some of these days you're going to have to move on, because Harlem is tired. Fact is, I think you ought to move now.

WIDE: Yes, you ought to move!

BOY: Get going!

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE? (5)

MAN Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Son, hurry!

YOUNG MAN (Darting wildly about.) There ain't no place to run.
I hit the white man. I done hit the boss! And there ain't no
place to run. Nobody helps me. Nobody to protect me. (He ap-
proaches the lynch rope that dangles from the sky and puts his head
into the noose.) I know it! You got me! All you crackers got me.
Dead! I'm dead! (His body slumps as if dead. Newsboys enter
selling papers.)

NEWSBOYS Negro lynched in Alabama! Big Lynching Near Selma! Read all about it! Read about the lynching! Negro accused of rape! Big lynching!

WOMAN (Standing before the hanging youth.) My boy is dead!

MAN (Bitterly.) Damn the ones what kilt him! Dam their souls
to hell!

WOMAN John, my boy is dead, I'm all alone-and my boy is dead!
(Begins to sing.)

I couldn't hear nobody pray

Oh, Lawdy! Couldn't hear nobody pray.

Way down yonder by myself,

I couldn't hear nobody pray!

(Enter a young Mulatto Girl, who sits down beside the hanging body.
Center, and begins to recite.)

MULATTO GIRL

Way down South in Dixie,
(Break the hear of me!)

They hung my dark young lover

To a cross road's tree.

Way down South in Dixie
(Break the heart of me)

Love is a naked shadow

On a gnarled and naked tree

Way down South in Dixie,
(Bruised body high in air)

I asked the white Lord Jesus

What was the use of prayer

OVERSEER (Left-Rising and shouting.)

Pull at the rope! O!

Pull it high!

Let the white folks live

And the black man die.

OVERSEER

The white folks die

Let do, you may let
the white folks die

MAN

Yes, pull it, then,

With a bloody cry

Let the black boy swing MAN

But the white folks die.

YOUNG MAN

Not I!

Not I!

Not I! Not I! Not I!

(The OVERSEER sneaks away.)

YOUNG MAN They killed Christ, didn't they, when he tried to change
world?

WOMAN But did he die?

EVERYBODY No!

YOUNG MAN They killed John Brown, didn't they, when he tried to
free the slaves?

WOMAN But did he die?

VOICES No!

YOUNG MAN What did Angelo Herndon say when they had him in prison
for trying to help the poor? What did Herndon say?

VOICE Let them kill Herndon, if they will but a million more will
rise to take my place.

YOUNG MAN You can't kill the working class, he said. And when we
rise......

WOMAN (Begins to sing.)

In that great gettin' up mornin'

Fare you well! Fare you well!

(Repeat)

CHORUS There's a better day a-comin'; etc.

CHORUS There's a better day a-comin'; etc.
(The old spiritual rises triumphally as the Young Man takes his head
from lynch rope. He comes with tramp's bundle on stick and stands
before the Mulatto Girl. The Man and Woman exit Right as the sing-
ing dies down.)

YOUNG MAN So many things is wrong in this world, honey, but the
worst thing of all is poverty. Being poor. You're the girl I
loved once, now look at you! All painted and powdered, and wright
But I know what happened. I don't blame you for it. You was young
and beautiful once, and golden like the sunshine that warmed your
body. But because you was colored, honey, this town had no place
for you, nothing for you to do.

MULATTO GIRL So one day, sitting on old Mrs. Latham's back porch
polishing the silver, working for two dollars a week, I asked myself
two questions. They ran something like this: What can a colored
girl do on the money from a white woman's kitchen?

VOICE Two dollars a week.

MULATTO GIRL And ain't there any joy in this town?

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE? (7)

(But the player keeps on playing softly in the night.)

YOUNG MAN You see, that's the blues.

(At Right, a Husband comes home from work and throws his hat and dinner pail on the table.)

Some times there's the family blues.

HUSBAND God-dog it!

I works all day

Vid a piel an' a shovel

Comes home at night,-

It ain't nothin' but a hovel.

I does her swell

An' I treats her fine,

But she don't gimme no livin'

I calls for ma woman

When I opens de door.

She's out in de street,

Ain't no good no more.

I'm a hard workin' man-

But I sho pays double.

I tries to be good but

Gets noghin' but trouble.

(He sits down at the table and begins to sings.)

Trouble, trouble, I has' em all my days.

Troulle, trouble, has' em all my days.

YOUNG MAN and sometimes there's the loveless blues - when all you get left is a picture of the one you care for.

(At left, the Boy who has been looking at his girl's picture begins to sing.)

BOY

All I want is your picture,

Must be in a frame.

All I want is your picture,

Must be in a fram-

So when you're gone

I can see you just the same!

Cause yu don't love me, baby,

Is awful awful hard.

Gypsy done showed me

My bad luck card.

(Throws down picture.)

I don't know what...

Po' wenry me cand.

Gypsy says I'd kill ma self

If I was you.

There ain't no good left

In this world for me.

Gypsy done tole me,-

Unlucky as can be.

(BOY gets up, puts on his coat, and sings)

And lay my head on the track,

Goin' down to the railroad,

Lay my head on the track,

If I see the train a*comin,'

I'm gonna jerk it back.

(He exits, Left. At Right, Woman enters, looks around anxiously and begins to cry.)

YOUNG MAN and then there is them left-lonesome blues.

IFE Oh, Lawd! Looks like Jackson done left me. And I wasn't go:
nowhere but to put my numbers in.
Jackson, you done broke my heart
this evenin.'

(She begins to sing.)

I ain't got no heart no mo'

Next time a man comes near me

Gonna shut and lock my door,

Cause they treats me mean-

The ones I love.

They always treats me mean.

Oh, you mens treats women

Just like a old pair o'shoes.

You mens treats women

Just like a old pair o'shoes.

You kicks' em round and

Does'em like you choose.

(She goes and stands beside the piano on the opposite side from the husband.)

YOUNG MAN And then there is those morning after blues.

Husband It's the next day now. (Begins to sing.)

I was so sick last night I

Didn't hardly know my mind.

So sick last night I

Didn't know my mind.

I drunk some bad licker that

Almost make me blind.

I said, Baby, baby,

Please don't snore so loud.

Baby! Please don't snore so loud.

You jest a little bit o' woman but

you

Sound like a great big crowd.

(VIFE, REPLIES IN SONG)

Had a dream last night I

Thought I was in hell.

I drempt last night I

Thought I was in hell.

I drempt last night I

Thought I was in hell.

Woke up and looked around me-

Tabe, your mouth was open like a

well.

HUSBAND Baby, you ain't gonna leave me, is you? You's all I got.

VIFE Yes, I'm gonna leave you. You all I got, too, but I sure can
get along without you. So, goodbye!

ALL (Singing.)

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE? (9)

now on. You can get your check and go.

YOUNG MAN (Stunned.) Yes, sir, Missier Mallory, but ...
(The Overseer walks to the other side, and seats himself for a shine.
He calls to the Old Man who enters, Right)

OVERSEER Hey, George!

OLD MAN Yes, sir! Yes, sir!

OVERSEER Gimme a shine! (As he shines his shoes, Woman enters Left
and begins to dust.)

OLD MAN Yes, sir! Yes, sir! Rich old white man
I must say yes, sir. Owns the world.
To you all the time.
Yes, sir.' Yes, sir! Gimme your shoes
All my days To shine.
Climbing up a great big mountain Yes, sir, boss,
Of yes, sirs. Yes, sir!

YOUNG MAN (Pointing to the OLD MAN) That was my grandfather. (On the left, the Woman in a maid's apron is working.) And my mother, out working for the white folks. When I was a kid, never nobody home to take care of me. I don't want my kids to grow up that away. Look at my mother.

WOMAN

All day, subdued, polite--
Thoughtful to the faces that are white.

OLD MAN

Oh, tribal dance!
Oh, drums!
Oh, veldt at night!

YOUNG MAN

Forgotten watch-fires on a hill somewhere.'

OLD MAN Oh, songs that do not care!

WOMAN At six o'clock, or seven , or eight, you're through
You've worked all day,
Then Harlem waits for you.
The el, the sub, a taxi through the park.

YOUNG MAN Oh, drums of life in Harlem after dark.

WOMAN Oh, dreams. Oh, songs!

OLD MAN A little rest at night.

WOMAN Oh, sweet relief from faces that are white!
(Takes off her apron, puts on her coat and hat, and goes home, cross-
ing Right, to her son, the YOUNG MAN.)

OVERSEER And polish those shoes good now! I want to see my face in
em when you get through (The old man bends over his task.)

WOMAN Good evening son!

YOUNG MAN Mom, I lost my job!

WOMAN You lost your job?

YOUNG MAN Yes! They laid me off tonight.

WOMAN Well, honey, you'll find another one. Maybe.

YOUNG MAN I don't know, mom. Things is so tight, I done lost heart!
Look how long I been a man now, and ain't never had a job that amount-
ed to nothing. I've been all over, and everywhere just the same.
The dirty work for colored folks, the cheap work, underpaid work!
I'm tired, mom. Soon as I come here to be with you a while and we
get this little flat, first thing I do is lose my job. And the land-
lord's just sent us a notice about raising the rent, too.

Mom, I'm about ready to give up. I swear I am!

WOMAN Son, you ain't gonna give up no such a thing. Listen! You
gonna keep right on just like I been keeping on. Did you ever stop
to think about it, honey, about your mother, and all the rest of us
colored women-what we been up against all through history, son. Sit
down and lemme tell you, for

(Piano music.)

I'm standing here today
Like a living story of that long dark way
That I had to climb, that I had to know
In order that our race might live and grow.
Look at my face, boy, dark as the night,
Yet shining like the sun with hope and light.

I'm the child they stole from the sand

Three hundred years ago in Africa's land.

I'm the dark girl who crossed the wide sea
Carrying in my body the seed of the Free.

I'm the woman who worked in the field,
Bringing the cotton and corn to yeild.

I'm the one who labored as a slave,
Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave-
Children sold away from me, husband sold, too.

No safety, no love, no respect was I due.

Three hundred years in the deepest South,
But love put a song and prayer in my mouth.

DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE? (11)

(OLD WOMAN brandishes her sign and the BUTCHER flees, to take off his apron and put on a coat and a pair of prince-nez glasses with a flowing black ribbon. He is the Editor of a daily paper and carries a handful of proofs. THE YOUNG MAN enters.)

YOUNG MAN You're the editor of the DAILY SCRIBE?
OVERSEER I am.

YOUNG MAN I wrote a letter to your paper more'n two weeks ago about the hard times we colored folks've been having, and you didn't print it. I wish you'd tell me how come?

OVERSEER Ah, yes! I remember that letter. I'll tell you, boy, why we didn't print it. That letter would stir up trouble. I know times are hard, but you colored people have always been good citizens. peaceful and nice. Why get excited now? Just wait. Times'll be better the Republicans will be in again soon. Believe in God, boy, in the good old stars and stripes, and be loyal to your country.
YOUNG MAN

But, Mr. Editor,
I've been loyal to my country
A long time, don't you see?
Now how about my country
Being loyal to me?

I fought in 1812 and 1863,
San Juan Hill in Cuba,
And for Democracy-
And fighting's not the only thing
I've done for liberty:
I've worked and worked a plenty,
Slave and free.

So when I pledge allegiance
To our flag so fair,
I deep looking at the stars and stripes
A-waving there,
And I'm wishing every star
Would really be a star for me,
And not just half a star
Like Jim Crow Tennessee--
And no false convict's stripes such as
Scottsboro's put on me.

I want that red and white and blue,
Mr. Editor,
To mean the same thing to me
As it does to you*
For I've been just as loyal
To my country as you have,
Don't you see?

Now, how about my country
Being loyal to me?

OVERSEER Why-er-uh-you're a radical!
(Enter a White worker.)

WHITE WORKER I don't think so!

OVERSEER Who're you?

WHITE WORKER A white worker. You don't have to be colored to know what hard times are. Or to want a square deal. I can tell you that!

OVERSEER Well, what do you want?

WHITE WORKER A world where there won't be no hard times. And no color line-- labor with a white skin'll never be free as long as labor with a black skin's enslaved.

OVERSEER By God, you're a radical, too!
(WHITE WORKER and YOUNG MAN Shake hands.)

YOUNG MAN Friend, you understand.

WHITE WORKER I understand!

OVERSEER Radicals: Lock 'em up! Lock 'em up! Radicals: Lock 'em up! Radicals: Radic-als: (Exits, yelling loudly)

YOUNG MAN Quiet, please-cause Harlem is tired!

WHITE WORKER (As he leaves with YOUNG MAN.) We're all tired! (Wife enters Left, broom in hand.)

WIFE Yes, we're tired! Tired as we can be! (Wife sweeps. Overseer removes glasses, puts on dark hat, carries a brief case, and is now an Insurance Man: Goes to Wife and knocks.) Yes?

OVERSEER (Cockily) Insurance man: Cot your book ready? Wife You want me to pay you?

OVERSEER Of course. It's due, isn't it?

WIFE Um-hum: You from the Cosmopolitan Company, ain't you?

OVERSEER I am.

DON'T YOU VANT TO BE FREE? (13)

Young Man No, riots won't solve anything.

Member of Audience Then what must we do?

Young Man Organize.

Member of Audience With who?

Young Man With the others who suffer like me and you.

Laundry Worker Organize with the laundry workers, then.

Woman Organize with the tenants' leagues.

Boy Organize with the student's unions.

Young Man Colored and white unions to lift us all up together.

Member of Audience You mean organize with white folks, too?

Young Man That's what I mean! We're all in the same boat!

This is America, isn't it? It's not all colored. Not all white,
It's both.

Member of Audience You mean organize with that white waiter who
won't serve you? Organize with him?

Young Man Yes, I mean with that waiter, too. His problems' the
same as our- if he only knew it.

Member of Audience Well, they ought to hurry up and find out then!

Some of 'em won't even let us in their unions. Yet we're all workers!

Let the white workers learn to stop discriminating against us, if
they want us with 'em.

Young Man Right! They've got to learn. And we must teach them. But
when they do learn, and black and white really get together, what
power in the world can stop us from getting what we want?

Boy Nothing!

YON MAN That's right!

Young Man Right: They've got to learn-but there are some who know
already, and they've organized unions that are strong and growing.
Member of Audience Who are they?

Young Man The Auto Workers of Detroit. (Enter a Negro and a white,
Sharecropper.) The Miners of Birmingham. (Enter two Miners, one white
and one colored.) The Stevedores of the West Coast (Enter a black
Stevedore and a White stevedore.)

And others, too, I know-not yet
enough, but they are learning. And when we do learn,
and black and white really get together, what power in the world
can stop us from getting what we want?

Boy Nothing!

Woman That's right!

Wife You tell 'em

Young Man Tommrrow belongs to the workers, and I'm a worker!

Woman I am, too!

Old Man And me!

Laundry worker Me, too!

Member of Audience And me! I get your point! Sits down. (

Young Man Good: We're Negro workers! Listen! This is what we're
going to say to all other workers, just this: I, a Negro, offer
you my hand. I offer you my strength and power. Together, we can
make America a land where all of us are free from poverty and op-
pression and where no man or woman need ever be hungry, cold, or
kept down again. White worker, here is my hand. Today we're man
to man.

MAN White worker, her's my hand.

Boy Here's my hand.

Laundry Worker (Speaking)

Who wants to come and join hands with me?

Who wants to make one great unity?

Who wants to say no more black or white?

Entire Cast (Singing)

-Bottom Page 388-

WHITE WORKER: We're all tired! All sensible Americans are tired
the
of/old out-moded prejudiced ways of living with one
race pitted against another. **WE MUST ORGANIZE A UNION**
Listen, you're a worker. I'm a worker. We'll organize
a union, a real union for all workers, white and black,
a union for everybody who works.

YOUNG MAN: I can belong?

WHITE WORKER: Sure! You can belong! Without you, I would have no
strength, either. But together---

YOUNG MAN: Together, we'll be strong!

OVERSEER: I say you're radicals, that's what you are!

WHITE WORKER: Aw, shut up! We're getting tired of you and your kind.
You believe in "divide and rule", that's what you be-
lieve in. And we're getting tired!

YOUNG MAN: We sure are getting tired!

(EDITOR RUSHES OUT BRANDISHING PAPERS. ENTER WIFE AT LEFT, BROOM IN HAND.)

(To top Page 389)

["(The OVERSEER flees. BLACKOUT. His voice is heard in dark as a FACTORY FOREMAN hiring workers.)", "Machinist", "m機械工人的\nm机\n机\n机\n机\n机\n机\n机\n机\n机\n机\n机\n机\n机\n

W.W. UNION MAN: There's one right here.

POINTING OUT THE NEGRO.

W.W. **FOREMAN:** Are you kidding?...Say, is this any business of yours?

W.W. UNION MAN: Yes, it's my business. I'm a union man---Local 642. This fellow's in my union.

O.S. **FOREMAN:** Is he? Well, now you know personally I don't mind, but plenty of fellows don't want to work with a--er--colored fellow, union or not.

W.W. UNION MAN: Have you asked 'em?

O.S. **FOREMAN:** No, I ain't asked 'em....Why don't you?

W.W. UNION MAN: Will you, too. Hey, fellows, come over here a minute.

VARIOUS WORKERS GATHER AROUND HIM

Listen, do you guys object to working with Joe here?

WORKERS: Hell, No! Why should we?
I've got no objections.
Sure not---he's a damn good machinist.
Production's got to roll, ain't it?
Sure, let him in!
Give him a job---and let's get back to work.

W.W. UNION MAN: O. K., fellows! (TO FOREMAN) Listen, Bud, we've got a war to win. We need production, get me? What we want is a Victory Line---not a Color Line! If you don't employ that man, I'll take it up with the union council.

O.S. **FOREMAN:** O.K.! O.K.! O.K.! (TO THE NEGRO) Hey, you! Check in.

W.W. UNION MAN: Come on, buddy, we'll check in together.

BLACKOUT. THE SOLDIER SPEAKS IN THE DARKNESS.

SOLDIER: That's what a progressive union can do, Junior. Unfortunately, not all unions are like that. Take Tom Ray out in Oregon. And there are plenty of others. But the union boys are learning, and they're going to fix those guys themselves. Labor's in this war for victory!...As for the army, Negroes and whites go through the same draft boards together, pass the same medical exams, get on the train together--then at the induction center....

-29-

## SCENE XI:
Segregation in Army

O.S. SERGEANT: Carl Mazarik, Order Number 3306.
1st WHITE: Yes, sir.
O.S. SERGEANT: Start the line over there....Fred Wallenberg, Order Number 7721.
2nd WHITE: Here, sir.

## BEHIND HIM IS A NEGRO.

O.S. SERGEANT: Over there next to Mazarik.....Kenneth Harper, 1863.
1st NEGRO: Yes, sir.
O.S. SERGEANT: New line over there, for you colored fellows.

## DIRECTS THE NEGRO TO OPPOSITE SIDE.

3rd WHITE: Right here.
O.S. SERGEANT: To your left.....Arthur Williams, 156.

## ANOTHER NEGRO STEPS UP.

Y.M.C.A. UNION NEGRO: Here.
O.S. SERGEANT: On the right there.....Carl Andorn, 7432.
WHITE WORKER: Yes, sir.
O.S. SERGEANT: Line up, left.
Y.M.C.A. UNION MAN: I came with Williams there, sir.
O.S. SERGEANT: What's that?
Y.M.C.A. UNION MAN: My buddy and I came together.
O.S. SERGEANT: What do you mean, came together? He's colored, ain't he?
Y.M.C.A. UNION MAN: We're from the same neighborhood in Brooklyn, went to school together, played on the same football team, and since the war been working in the same defense plant together, same department, same union. We want to fight together.
O.S. SERGEANT: Oh, no! Not in this army. Colored and white ain't together. Get over there where I told you.
Y.M.C.A. UNION NEGRO: Suppose I get in that line, too, then, with Andorn.

-30-

Sergeant: No fresh talk out of you, private. You're in the army now. Negroes and whites are separate here.

UNION NEGRO: Just the way the Red Cross separates blood! Heh? I guess you know, Hitler likes it that way, Sergeant.

O.S. SERGEANT: One more word out of you, and you'll head right straight to the guard house....Andorn, I told you to step over there.

UNION MAN: Look here, Sergeant! Weilbur Williams and I work together, we vote together--- why in hell can't we fight together?

O.S. SERGEANT: You can't, that's why! Listen, both of you, in the army---orders is orders. This is the official policy of the War Department. Its been that way for a long time.

UNION NEGRO: Well, times have changed! Today that policy helps Adolph Hitler and Company! We're fighting to change that Over There. And the quicker we change it over here, the quicker we'll win Over There.

(BLACKOUT. The YOUNG MAN stands alone on the stage. He addresses the audience.)

YOUNG MAN: Since way back in slavery times there have always been white Americans who believed in freedom and equality for everybody---MAMMÁ from Harriett Beecher Stowe to Eleanor Roosevelt, from John Brown to Alton Levy who was court-martialed at Lincoln, Nebraska a few months ago. There are white Americans and black Americans who believe in real Americanism. We, who put on this play, believe in it. I think you out there in the audience believe in it. I told you in the beginning, this was your play. This is your story. This is your country. My part in the play ends now. Here, on the stage, in a few minutes it will be all be over. It's up to you out there now to carry on to get together, black and white, and make American the land we want it to be. Right now, we've got a big job in front of

us---a war to win. With men fighting and dying for freedom all
around the world--white men and black men---we've got no right to
hold up the war effort on the home front for one moment with old-
fashioned Jim Crowisms, and race riots, and color-lines. The enemy
loves that sort of thing. "Divide and conquer," is Hitler's motto.
We will not let him divide and conquer.

DUMMIES

(THE WHITE WORKER ENTERS)

WHITE WORKER: No, we will not let him divide and conquer.

MUMMIES

(THEY SHAKE HANDS)

YOUNG MAN: This is our home---your home and my home. So:

(They TALK INTO THE SONG)

We'll hammer it out together!

WHITE WORKER:

White folks and black folks side by side.

(THEY SING)

- 53 -

## We'll win Over There.

BLACKOUT. THE YOUNG MAN STANDS ALONE
ON THE STAGE. HE ADDRESSES THE AUDIENCE.

YOUNG MAN

Since way back in slavery times there have
always been white Americans who believed in
freedom and equality for everybody---from
Harriett Beecher Stowe to Eleanor Roosevelt,
from John Brown to Alton Levy who was court-
martialed at Lincoln, Nebraska. And today
there are white Americans and black Americans
who believe in real Americanism. Now that the
war is over, it's up to us to carry on in real
life---together, and make America the land we
want it to be. Right now, we've got a big job
in front of us---the peace to win. With men
who fought and died for freedom all around the
world---white men and black men---we've got no
right to hold up democracy on the home front
by an old fashioned Jim Crowism,
race riots, and color lines. "Divide and
Conquer," was Hitler's motto. We will not
let prejudice divide and conquer here at home.

## THE WHITE WORKER ENTERS

WHITE WORKER:

No, we will not let prejudice divide and conquer.

## THEY SHAKE HANDS

YOUNG MAN:

## THEY TALK INTO THE SONG

## SETTING:

A bare stage, except for a lynch rope and an auction block. No scenery and very few props. No special lighting. Only actors needed--and an audience. There is no curtain, so a YOUNG MAN simply comes forward and begins to speak:

YOUNG MAN: Listen, folks! I'm one of the members of this group, and I want to tell you about our flag, our theatre. This is it right here! We haven't got any scenery, or painted curtains, because we haven't got any money to buy them. But we've got something you can't buy with money, anyway. We've got faith in ourselves. And in you. So we're going to put on a show. Maybe you'll like it because it's about you, and about us. This show is for you. And you can act in it, too, if you want to. This is your show, as well as ours.

Now, I'll tell you what this show is about. It's about me, except that it's not just about me now standing here talking to you--- but it's about me yesterday, and about me tomorrow. I'm colored, I guess you can see that. Well, this show is about what it means to be colored in America. Listen:

(CRASH OF CYMBALS)

Don't You Want To Be Free--5

(ENTER RIGHT FOUR SLAVES: BOY, GIRL, OLD MAN AND WIFE CHAINED BY THE WRISTS TOGETHER. THEY WALK IN A STRAIGHT LINE --MOANING MUSICALLY ACROSS THE STAGE. THE YOUNG MAN JOINS THEM. THEY ARE FOLLOWED BY AN OVERSEER WITH A WHIP. ALL EXIT LEFT EXCEPT THE GIRL AND THE OVERSEER. THE GIRL MOUNTS THE SLAVE-BLOCK, WILD-EYED AND FRIGHTENED.)

OVERSEER:

Get along now! Get on! Setp along there!

(APPROACHING AUCTION BLOCK.)

Folks, look here what I got! A nice healthy black
gal, folks. Wild! Ain't trained, but a little of
this will break her in.

(HOLES UP HIS WHIP.)

Congo women can't be beat for working, and Congo legs, wiry and strong.

(FEELS HER LEGS)

Look at them hands. Long fingers, just right for
picking cotton.

(TO THE GIRL.)

Open your mouth, gal!

(PUNCHES HER WITH THE WHIPSTOCK.)

Open your mouth.

(GIRL OPENS HER MOUTH.)

See! Healthy! Nice white teeth! (WITH A LEER)
This girl's all right for most anything. What am I
offered for her, gentlemen? Speak up! Make your
bids. What am I offered for her?

VOICE:

One hundred dollars.

Don't You Want to Be Free--8

YOUNG MAN: You!

OVERSEER: You must've gone crazy
Talking like that to me.
Get up on that block!

YOUNG MAN: No! I want to be free!

(KICKS BLOCK OFF STAGE)

OVERSEER: Free?

YOUNG MAN: Yes, free!
Not sold like a slave.
Before I'll be sold again
I'll go down to my grave.

(THE OVERSEER STRIKES HIM WITH HIS WHIP)

GIRL: Oh! (Screams)

YOUNG MAN: No! No! No!

(AS HE BACKS AWAY AND FALES BEFORE THE BLOWS OF THE OVERSEER'S WHIP.)

OVERSEER: I'll teach you to want to be free! To talk back to me!

(LASHING HIM. YOUNG MAN FALLS.)

GIRL: Oh! . . .Oh! . . .Oh!

OLD MAN: (BEGINS TO SING):
Go down, Moses,
Way down in Egypt land,
And tell ole Pharoah

CHORUS: To let my people go.

OVERSEER: Shut up, you dog!

(AS THE OLD MAN FALLS, THE GIRL TAKES UP THE SONG.)

GIRL: