SCENE ONE
Time: Later the same day.
At rise: RUTH is ironing again. She has the radio going. Presently BENEATHA’S bedroom door opens and RUTH’S mouth falls and she puts down the iron in fascination.
RUTH What have we got on tonight!
BENEATHA (Emerging grandly from the doorway so that we can see her thoroughly robed in the costume Asagai brought) You are looking at what a well-dressed Nigerian woman wears—(She parades for RUTH, her hair completely hidden by the headdress; she is coquettishly fanning herself with an ornate oriental fan, mistakenly more like Butterfly than any Nigerian that ever was) Isn’t it beautiful? (She promenades to the radio and, with an arrogant flourish, turns off the good loud blues that is playing) Enough of this assimilationist junk! (RUTH follows her with her eyes as she goes to the phonograph and puts on a record and turns and waits ceremoniously for the music to come up. Then, with a shout—) OCOMOGOSIAY!
(RUTH jumps. The music comes up, a lovely Nigerian melody, BENEATHA listens, enraptured, her eyes far away—“back to the past.” She begins to dance. RUTH is dumbfounded)
RUTH What kind of dance is that?
BENEATHA A folk dance.
RUTH (Pearl Bailey) What kind of folks do that, honey?
BENEATHA It’s from Nigeria. It’s a dance of welcome.
RUTH Who you welcoming?
BENEATHA The men back to the village.
RUTH Where they been?
BENEATHA How should I know—out hunting or something. Anyway, they are coming back now …
RUTH Well, that’s good.
BENEATHA (With the record) Alundi, alundi
Alundi alunya
Jop pu a jeepua
Ang gu soooooooooo Ai yai yae … Ayehaye—alundi …
(WALTER comes in during this performance; he has obviously been drinking. He leans against the door heavily and watches his sister, at first with distaste. Then his eyes look off—“back to the past”—as he lifts both his fists to the roof, screaming)
WALTER YEAH … AND ETHIOPIA STRETCH FORTH HER HANDS AGAIN! …
RUTH (Drily, looking at him) Yes—and Africa sure is claiming her own tonight. (She gives them both up and starts ironing again)
WALTER (All in a drunken, dramatic shout) Shut up! … I’m digging them drums … them drums move me! … (He makes his weaving way to his wife’s face and leans in close to her) In my heart of hearts
—(He thumps his chest)—I am much warrior!
RUTH (Without even looking up) In your heart of hearts you are much drunkard.
WALTER (Coming away from her and starting to wander around the room, shouting) Me and Jomo … (Intently, in his sister’s face. She has stopped dancing to watch him in this unknown mood) That’s my man, Kenyatta. (Shouting and thumping his chest) FLAMING
SPEAR! HOT DAMN! (He is suddenly in possession of an imaginary spear and actively spearing enemies all over the room) OCOMOGOSIAY …
BENEATHA (To encourage WALTER, thoroughly caught up with this side of him) OCOMOGOSIAY, FLAMING SPEAR!
WALTER THE LION IS WAKING … OWIMOWEH! (He pulls his shirt open and leaps up on the table and gestures with his spear)
BENEATHA OWIMOWEH!
WALTER (On the table, very far gone, his eyes pure glass sheets. He sees what we cannot, that he is a leader of his people, a great chief, a descendant of Chaka, and that the hour to march has come) Listen, my black brothers—
BENEATHA OCOMOGOSIAY!
WALTER —Do you hear the waters rushing against the shores of the coastlands—
BENEATHA OCOMOGOSIAY!
WALTER —Do you hear the screeching of the cocks in yonder hills beyond where the chiefs meet in council for the coming of the mighty war—
BENEATHA OCOMOGOSIAY!
(And now the lighting shifts subtly to suggest the world of Walter’s imagination, and the mood shifts from pure comedy. It is the inner walter speaking: the Southside chauffeur has assumed an unexpected majesty)
WALTER —Do you hear the beating of the wings of the birds flying low over the mountains and the low places of our land—
BENEATHA OCOMOGOSIAY!
WALTER —Do you hear the singing of the women, singing the war songs of our fathers to the babies in the great houses? Singing the sweet war songs! (The doorbell rings) OH, DO YOU HEAR, MY BLACK BROTHERS!
BENEATHA (Completely gone) We hear you, Flaming Spear—
(RUTH shuts off the phonograph and opens the door. GEORGE MURCHISON enters)
WALTER Telling us to prepare for the GREATNESS OF THE TIME! (Lights back to normal. He turns and sees GEORGE) Black Brother!
(He extends his hand for the fraternal clasp)
GEORGE Black Brother, hell!
RUTH (Having had enough, and embarrassed for the family) Beneatha, you got company—what’s the matter with you? Walter Lee Younger, get down off that table and stop acting like a fool …
(WALTER comes down off the table suddenly and makes a quick exit to the bathroom)
RUTH He’s had a little to drink … I don’t know what her excuse is.
GEORGE (To BENEATHA) Look honey, we’re going to the theatre—we’re not going to be in it … so go change, huh?
(BENEATHA looks at him and slowly, ceremoniously, lifts her hands and pulls off the headdress. Her hair is close-cropped and unstraightened. GEORGE freezes mid-sentence and RUTH’S eyes all but fan out of her head)
GEORGE What in the name of—
RUTH (Touching BENEATHA’S hair) Girl, you done lost your natural mind!? Look at your head!
GEORGE What have you done to your head—I mean your hair!
BENEATHA Nothing—except cut it off.
RUTH Now that’s the truth—it’s what ain’t been done to it! You expect this boy to go out with you with your head all nappy like that?
BENEATHA (Looking at GEORGE) That’s up to George. If he’s ashamed of
his heritage—
GEORGE Oh, don’t be so proud of yourself, Bennie—just because you look eccentric.
BENEATHA How can something that’s natural be eccentric?
GEORGE That’s what being eccentric means—being natural. Get dressed.
BENEATHA I don’t like that, George.
RUTH Why must you and your brother make an argument out of everything people say?
BENEATHA Because I hate assimilationist Negroes!
RUTH Will somebody please tell me what assimila-who ever means!
GEORGE Oh, it’s just a college girl’s way of calling people Uncle Toms—but that isn’t what it means at all.
RUTH Well, what does it mean?
BENEATHA (Cutting GEORGE off and staring at him as she replies to RUTH)
It means someone who is willing to give up his own culture and submerge himself completely in the dominant, and in this case oppressive culture!
GEORGE Oh, dear, dear, dear! Here we go! A lecture on the African past! On our Great West African Heritage! In one second we will hear all about the great Ashanti empires; the great Songhay civilizations; and the great sculpture of Bénin—and then some poetry in the Bantu— and the whole monologue will end with the word heritage! (Nastily) Let’s face it, baby, your heritage is nothing but a bunch of raggedy-assed spirituals and some grass huts!
BENEATHA GRASS HUTS! (RUTH crosses to her and forcibly pushes her toward the bedroom) See there … you are standing there in your splendid ignorance talking about people who were the first to smelt iron on the face of the earth! (RUTH is pushing her through the door) The Ashanti were performing surgical operations when the English—(RUTH pulls the door to, with BENEATHA on the other side,
and smiles graciously at GEORGE. BENEATHA opens the door and shouts the end of the sentence defiantly at GEORGE)—were still tattooing themselves with blue dragons! (She goes back inside)
RUTH Have a seat, George (They both sit. RUTH folds her hands rather primly on her lap, determined to demonstrate the civilization of the family) Warm, ain’t it? I mean for September. (Pause) Just like they always say about Chicago weather: If it’s too hot or cold for you, just wait a minute and it’ll change. (She smiles happily at this cliché of clichés) Everybody say it’s got to do with them bombs and things they keep setting off. (Pause) Would you like a nice cold beer?
GEORGE No, thank you. I don’t care for beer. (He looks at his watch) I hope she hurries up.
RUTH What time is the show?
GEORGE It’s an eight-thirty curtain. That’s just Chicago, though. In New York standard curtain time is eight forty.
(He is rather proud of this knowledge)
RUTH (Properly appreciating it) You get to New York a lot?
GEORGE (Offhand) Few times a year.
RUTH Oh—that’s nice. I’ve never been to New York. (WALTER enters. We feel he has relieved himself, but the edge of unreality is still with him)
WALTER New York ain’t got nothing Chicago ain’t. Just a bunch of hustling people all squeezed up together—being “Eastern.”
(He turns his face into a screw of displeasure)
GEORGE Oh—you’ve been?
WALTER Plenty of times.
RUTH (Shocked at the lie) Walter Lee Younger!
WALTER (Staring her down) Plenty! (Pause) What we got to drink in this house? Why don’t you offer this man some refreshment. (To
GEORGE) They don’t know how to entertain people in this house, man.
GEORGE Thank you—I don’t really care for anything. WALTER (Feeling his head; sobriety coming) Where’s Mama? RUTH She ain’t come back yet.
WALTER (Looking MURCHISON over from head to toe, scrutinizing his carefully casual tweed sports jacket over cashmere V-neck sweater over soft eyelet shirt and tie, and soft slacks, finished off with white buckskin shoes) Why all you college boys wear them faggoty- looking white shoes?
RUTH Walter Lee!
(GEORGE MURCHISON ignores the remark)
WALTER (To RUTH) Well, they look crazy as hell—white shoes, cold as it is.
RUTH (Crushed) You have to excuse him—
WALTER No he don’t! Excuse me for what? What you always excusing me for! I’ll excuse myself when I needs to be excused! (A pause) They look as funny as them black knee socks Beneatha wears out of here all the time.
RUTH It’s the college style, Walter.
WALTER Style, hell. She looks like she got burnt legs or something!
RUTH Oh, Walter—
WALTER (An irritable mimic) Oh, Walter! Oh, Walter! (To MURCHISON)
How’s your old man making out? I understand you all going to buy that big hotel on the Drive? (He finds a beer in the refrigerator, wanders over to MURCHISON, sipping and wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and straddling a chair backwards to talk to the other man) Shrewd move. Your old man is all right, man. (Tapping his head and half winking for emphasis) I mean he knows how to operate. I mean he thinks big, you know what I mean, I mean for a home, you know? But I think he’s kind of running out of ideas
now. I’d like to talk to him. Listen, man, I got some plans that could turn this city upside down. I mean think like he does. Big. Invest big, gamble big, hell, lose big if you have to, you know what I mean. It’s hard to find a man on this whole Southside who understands my kind of thinking—you dig? (He scrutinizes MURCHISON again, drinks his beer, squints his eyes and leans in close, confidential, man to man) Me and you ought to sit down and talk sometimes, man. Man, I got me some ideas …
GEORGE (With boredom) Yeah—sometimes we’ll have to do that, Walter.
WALTER (Understanding the indifference, and offended) Yeah—well, when you get the time, man. I know you a busy little boy.
RUTH Walter, please—
WALTER (Bitterly, hurt) I know ain’t nothing in this world as busy as you colored college boys with your fraternity pins and white shoes …
RUTH (Covering her face with humiliation) Oh, Walter Lee—
WALTER I see you all all the time—with the books tucked under your arms—going to your (British A—a mimic) “clahsses.” And for what! What the hell you learning over there? Filling up your heads—(Counting off on his fingers)—with the sociology and the psychology—but they teaching you how to be a man? How to take over and run the world? They teaching you how to run a rubber plantation or a steel mill? Naw—just to talk proper and read books and wear them faggoty-looking white shoes …
GEORGE (Looking at him with distaste, a little above it all) You’re all wacked up with bitterness, man.
WALTER (Intently, almost quietly, between the teeth, glaring at the boy) And you—ain’t you bitter, man? Ain’t you just about had it yet? Don’t you see no stars gleaming that you can’t reach out and grab? You happy?—You contented son-of-a-bitch—you happy? You got it made? Bitter? Man, I’m a volcano. Bitter? Here I am a giant—surrounded by ants! Ants who can’t even understand what
it is the giant is talking about.
RUTH (Passionately and suddenly) Oh, Walter—ain’t you with nobody!
WALTER (Violently) No! ’Cause ain’t nobody with me! Not even my own mother!
RUTH Walter, that’s a terrible thing to say!
(BENEATHA enters, dressed for the evening in a cocktail dress and earrings, hair natural)
GEORGE Well—hey—(Crosses to BENEATHA; thoughtful, with emphasis, since this is a reversal) You look great!
WALTER (Seeing his sister’s hair for the first time) What’s the matter with your head?
BENEATHA (Tired of the jokes now) I cut it off, Brother.
WALTER (Coming close to inspect it and walking around her) Well, I’ll be damned. So that’s what they mean by the African bush …
BENEATHA Ha ha. Let’s go, George.
GEORGE (Looking at her) You know something? I like it. It’s sharp. I mean it really is. (Helps her into her wrap)
RUTH Yes—I think so, too. (She goes to the mirror and starts to clutch at her hair)
WALTER Oh no! You leave yours alone, baby. You might turn out to have a pin-shaped head or something!
BENEATHA See you all later.
RUTH Have a nice time.
GEORGE Thanks. Good night. (Half out the door, he reopens it. To
WALTER) Good night, Prometheus! (BENEATHA and GEORGE exit)
WALTER (To RUTH) Who is Prometheus?
RUTH I don’t know. Don’t worry about it.
WALTER (In fury, pointing after GEORGE) See there—they get to a point where they can’t insult you man to man—they got to go talk about something ain’t nobody never heard of!
RUTH How do you know it was an insult? (To humor him) Maybe Prometheus is a nice fellow.
WALTER Prometheus! I bet there ain’t even no such thing! I bet that simple-minded clown—
RUTH Walter—
(She stops what she is doing and looks at him)
WALTER (Yelling) Don’t start!
RUTH Start what?
WALTER Your nagging! Where was I? Who was I with? How much money did I spend?
RUTH (Plaintively) Walter Lee—why don’t we just try to talk about it …
WALTER (Not listening) I been out talking with people who understand me. People who care about the things I got on my mind.
RUTH (Wearily) I guess that means people like Willy Harris.
WALTER Yes, people like Willy Harris.
RUTH (With a sudden flash of impatience) Why don’t you all just hurry up and go into the banking business and stop talking about it!
WALTER Why? You want to know why? ’Cause we all tied up in a race of people that don’t know how to do nothing but moan, pray and have babies!
(The line is too bitter even for him and he looks at her and sits down)
RUTH Oh, Walter … (Softly) Honey, why can’t you stop fighting me?
WALTER (Without thinking) Who’s fighting you? Who even cares about you?
(This line begins the retardation of his mood)
RUTH Well—(She waits a long time, and then with resignation starts to put away her things) I guess I might as well go on to bed … (More or less to herself) I don’t know where we lost it … but we have … (Then, to him) I—I’m sorry about this new baby, Walter. I guess maybe I better go on and do what I started … I guess I just didn’t realize how bad things was with us … I guess I just didn’t really realize—(She starts out to the bedroom and stops) You want some hot milk?
WALTER Hot milk? RUTH Yes—hot milk. WALTER Why hot milk?
RUTH ’Cause after all that liquor you come home with you ought to have something hot in your stomach.
WALTER I don’t want no milk.
RUTH You want some coffee then?
WALTER No, I don’t want no coffee. I don’t want nothing hot to drink. (Almost plaintively) Why you always trying to give me something to eat?
RUTH (Standing and looking at him helplessly) What else can I give you, Walter Lee Younger?
(She stands and looks at him and presently turns to go out again. He lifts his head and watches her going away from him in a new mood which began to emerge when he asked her “Who cares about you?”)
WALTER It’s been rough, ain’t it, baby? (She hears and stops but does not turn around and he continues to her back) I guess between two people there ain’t never as much understood as folks generally thinks there is. I mean like between me and you—(She turns to face him) How we gets to the place where we scared to talk softness to each other. (He waits, thinking hard himself) Why you
think it got to be like that? (He is thoughtful, almost as a child would be) Ruth, what is it gets into people ought to be close?
RUTH I don’t know, honey. I think about it a lot.
WALTER On account of you and me, you mean? The way things are with us. The way something done come down between us.
RUTH There ain’t so much between us, Walter … Not when you come to me and try to talk to me. Try to be with me … a little even.
WALTER (Total honesty) Sometimes … sometimes … I don’t even know how to try.
RUTH Walter—
WALTER Yes?
RUTH (Coming to him, gently and with misgiving, but coming to him) Honey … life don’t have to be like this. I mean sometimes people can do things so that things are better … You remember how we used to talk when Travis was born … about the way we were going to live … the kind of house … (She is stroking his head)
Well, it’s all starting to slip away from us …
(He turns her to him and they look at each other and kiss, tenderly and hungrily. The door opens and MAMA enters—WALTER breaks away and jumps up. A beat)
WALTER Mama, where have you been?
MAMA My—them steps is longer than they used to be. Whew! (She sits down and ignores him) How you feeling this evening, Ruth?
(RUTH shrugs, disturbed at having been interrupted and watching her husband knowingly)
WALTER Mama, where have you been all day?
MAMA (Still ignoring him and leaning on the table and changing to more comfortable shoes) Where’s Travis?
RUTH I let him go out earlier and he ain’t come back yet. Boy, is he
going to get it!
WALTER Mama!
MAMA (As if she has heard him for the first time) Yes, son?
WALTER Where did you go this afternoon?
MAMA I went downtown to tend to some business that I had to tend to.
WALTER What kind of business?
MAMA You know better than to question me like a child, Brother.
WALTER (Rising and bending over the table) Where were you, Mama? (Bringing his fists down and shouting) Mama, you didn’t go do something with that insurance money, something crazy?
(The front door opens slowly, interrupting him, and TRAVIS peeks his head in, less than hopefully)
TRAVIS (To his mother) Mama, I—
RUTH “Mama I” nothing! You’re going to get it, boy! Get on in that bedroom and get yourself ready!
TRAVIS But I—
MAMA Why don’t you all never let the child explain hisself.
RUTH Keep out of it now, Lena.
(MAMA clamps her lips together, and RUTH advances toward her son menacingly)
RUTH A thousand times I have told you not to go off like that—
MAMA (Holding out her arms to her grandson) Well—at least let me tell him something. I want him to be the first one to hear … Come here, Travis. (The boy obeys, gladly) Travis—(She takes him by the shoulder and looks into his face)—you know that money we got in the mail this morning?
TRAVIS Yes’m—
MAMA Well—what you think your grandmama gone and done with
that money?
TRAVIS I don’t know, Grandmama.
MAMA (Putting her finger on his nose for emphasis) She went out and she bought you a house! (The explosion comes from WALTER at the end of the revelation and he jumps up and turns away from all of them in a fury. MAMA continues, to TRAVIS) You glad about the house? It’s going to be yours when you get to be a man.
TRAVIS Yeah—I always wanted to live in a house.
MAMA All right, gimme some sugar then—(TRAVIS puts his arms around her neck as she watches her son over the boy’s shoulder. Then, to TRAVIS, after the embrace) Now when you say your prayers tonight, you thank God and your grandfather—’cause it was him who give you the house—in his way.
RUTH (Taking the boy from MAMA and pushing him toward the bedroom) Now you get out of here and get ready for your beating.
TRAVIS Aw, Mama—
RUTH Get on in there—(Closing the door behind him and turning radiantly to her mother-in-law) So you went and did it!
MAMA (Quietly, looking at her son with pain) Yes, I did.
RUTH (Raising both arms classically) PRAISE GOD! (Looks at WALTER a moment, who says nothing. She crosses rapidly to her husband) Please, honey—let me be glad … you be glad too. (She has laid her hands on his shoulders, but he shakes himself free of her roughly, without turning to face her) Oh Walter … a home … a home. (She comes back to MAMA) Well—where is it? How big is it? How much it going to cost?
MAMA Well—
RUTH When we moving?
MAMA (Smiling at her) First of the month.
RUTH (Throwing back her head with jubilance) Praise God!
MAMA (Tentatively, still looking at her son’s back turned against her and
RUTH) It’s—it’s a nice house too … (She cannot help speaking
directly to him. An imploring quality in her voice, her manner, makes her almost like a girl now) Three bedrooms—nice big one for you and Ruth.… Me and Beneatha still have to share our room, but Travis have one of his own—and (With difficulty) I figure if the— new baby—is a boy, we could get one of them double-decker outfits … And there’s a yard with a little patch of dirt where I could maybe get to grow me a few flowers … And a nice big basement …
RUTH Walter honey, be glad—
MAMA (Still to his back, fingering things on the table) ’Course I don’t want to make it sound fancier than it is … It’s just a plain little old house—but it’s made good and solid—and it will be ours. Walter Lee—it makes a difference in a man when he can walk on floors that belong to him …
RUTH Where is it?
MAMA (Frightened at this telling) Well—well—it’s out there in Clybourne Park—
(RUTH’S radiance fades abruptly, and WALTER finally turns slowly to face his mother with incredulity and hostility)
RUTH Where?
MAMA (Matter-of-factly) Four o six Clybourne Street, Clybourne Park.
RUTH Clybourne Park? Mama, there ain’t no colored people living in Clybourne Park.
MAMA (Almost idiotically) Well, I guess there’s going to be some now.
WALTER (Bitterly) So that’s the peace and comfort you went out and bought for us today!
MAMA (Raising her eyes to meet his finally) Son—I just tried to find the nicest place for the least amount of money for my family.
RUTH (Trying to recover from the shock) Well—well—’course I ain’t one never been ’fraid of no crackers, mind you—but—well, wasn’t there no other houses nowhere?
MAMA Them houses they put up for colored in them areas way out all seem to cost twice as much as other houses. I did the best I could.
RUTH (Struck senseless with the news, in its various degrees of goodness and trouble, she sits a moment, her fists propping her chin in thought, and then she starts to rise, bringing her fists down with vigor, the radiance spreading from cheek to cheek again) Well—well!—All I can say is—if this is my time in life—MY TIME—to say good-bye
—(And she builds with momentum as she starts to circle the room with an exuberant, almost tearfully happy release)—to these goddamned cracking walls!—(She pounds the walls)—and these marching roaches!—(She wipes at an imaginary army of marching roaches)—and this cramped little closet which ain’t now or never was no kitchen! … then I say it loud and good, HALLELUJAH! AND GOOD-BYE MISERY … I DONT NEVER WANT TO SEE
YOUR UGLY FACE AGAIN! (She laughs joyously, having practically destroyed the apartment, and flings her arms up and lets them come down happily, slowly, reflectively, over her abdomen, aware for the first time perhaps that the life therein pulses with happiness and not despair) Lena?
MAMA (Moved, watching her happiness) Yes, honey?
RUTH (Looking off) Is there—is there a whole lot of sunlight?
MAMA (Understanding) Yes, child, there’s a whole lot of sunlight. (Long pause)
RUTH (Collecting herself and going to the door of the room TRAVIS is in) Well—I guess I better see ’bout Travis. (To MAMA) Lord, I sure don’t feel like whipping nobody today!
(She exits)
MAMA (The mother and son are left alone now and the mother waits a long time, considering deeply, before she speaks) Son—you—you understand what I done, don’t you? (WALTER is silent and sullen) I
—I just seen my family falling apart today … just falling to
pieces in front of my eyes … We couldn’t of gone on like we was today. We was going backwards ’stead of forwards—talking ’bout killing babies and wishing each other was dead … When it gets like that in life—you just got to do something different, push on out and do something bigger … (She waits) I wish you say something, son … I wish you’d say how deep inside you you think I done the right thing—
WALTER (Crossing slowly to his bedroom door and finally turning there and speaking measuredly) What you need me to say you done right for? You the head of this family. You run our lives like you want to. It was your money and you did what you wanted with it. So what you need for me to say it was all right for? (Bitterly, to hurt her as deeply as he knows is possible) So you butchered up a dream of mine—you—who always talking ’bout your children’s dreams …
MAMA Walter Lee—
(He just closes the door behind him. MAMA sits alone, thinking heavily)
Curtain
SCENE TWO
Time: Friday night. A few weeks later.
At rise: Packing crates mark the intention of the family to move.
BENEATHA and GEORGE come in, presumably from an evening out again.
GEORGE O.K. … O.K., whatever you say … (They both sit on the couch. He tries to kiss her. She moves away) Look, we’ve had a nice evening; let’s not spoil it, huh? …
(He again turns her head and tries to nuzzle in and she turns away from him, not with distaste but with momentary lack of interest; in a mood to pursue what they were talking about)
BENEATHA I’m trying to talk to you.
GEORGE We always talk.
BENEATHA Yes—and I love to talk.
GEORGE (Exasperated; rising) I know it and I don’t mind it sometimes … I want you to cut it out, see—The moody stuff, I mean. I don’t like it. You’re a nice-looking girl … all over. That’s all you need, honey, forget the atmosphere. Guys aren’t going to go for the atmosphere—they’re going to go for what they see. Be glad for that. Drop the Garbo routine. It doesn’t go with you. As for myself, I want a nice—(Groping)—simple (Thoughtfully)— sophisticated girl … not a poet—O.K.?
(He starts to kiss her, she rebuffs him again and he jumps up)
BENEATHA Why are you angry, George?
GEORGE Because this is stupid! I don’t go out with you to discuss the nature of “quiet desperation” or to hear all about your thoughts
—because the world will go on thinking what it thinks regardless
—
BENEATHA Then why read books? Why go to school?
GEORGE (With artificial patience, counting on his fingers) It’s simple. You read books—to learn facts—to get grades—to pass the course
—to get a degree. That’s all—it has nothing to do with thoughts. (A long pause)
BENEATHA I see. (He starts to sit) Good night, George.
(GEORGE looks at her a little oddly, and starts to exit. He meets
MAMA coming in)
GEORGE Oh—hello, Mrs. Younger. MAMA Hello, George, how you feeling? GEORGE Fine—fine, how are you?
MAMA Oh, a little tired. You know them steps can get you after a day’s work. You all have a nice time tonight?
GEORGE Yes—a fine time. A fine time.
MAMA Well, good night.
GEORGE Good night. (He exits. MAMA closes the door behind her) Hello, honey. What you sitting like that for?
BENEATHA I’m just sitting.
MAMA Didn’t you have a nice time?
BENEATHA No.
MAMA No? What’s the matter?
BENEATHA Mama, George is a fool—honest. (She rises)
MAMA (Hustling around unloading the packages she has entered with.
She stops) Is he, baby?
BENEATHA Yes.
(BENEATHA makes up TRAVIS’ bed as she talks)
MAMA You sure?
BENEATHA Yes.
MAMA Well—I guess you better not waste your time with no fools.
(BENEATHA looks up at her mother, watching her put groceries in the refrigerator. Finally she gathers up her things and starts into the bedroom. At the door she stops and looks back at her mother)
BENEATHA Mama—
MAMA Yes, baby— BENEATHA Thank you. MAMA For what?
BENEATHA For understanding me this time.
(She exits quickly and the mother stands, smiling a little, looking at the place where BENEATHA just stood. RUTH enters)
RUTH Now don’t you fool with any of this stuff, Lena—
MAMA Oh, I just thought I’d sort a few things out. Is Brother here?
RUTH Yes.
MAMA (With concern) Is he—
RUTH (Reading her eyes) Yes.
(MAMA is silent and someone knocks on the door. MAMA and RUTH exchange weary and knowing glances and RUTH opens it to admit the neighbor, MRS. JOHNSON,* who is a rather squeaky wide-eyed lady of no particular age, with a newspaper under her arm)
MAMA (Changing her expression to acute delight and a ringing cheerful greeting) Oh—hello there, Johnson.
JOHNSON (This is a woman who decided long ago to be enthusiastic about EVERYTHING in life and she is inclined to wave her wrist vigorously at the height of her exclamatory comments) Hello there, yourself! H’you this evening, Ruth?
RUTH (Not much of a deceptive type) Fine, Mis’ Johnson, h’you?
JOHNSON Fine. (Reaching out quickly, playfully, and patting RUTH’S
stomach) Ain’t you starting to poke out none yet! (She mugs with delight at the overfamiliar remark and her eyes dart around looking
at the crates and packing preparation; MAMA’S face is a cold sheet of endurance) Oh, ain’t we getting ready ’round here, though! Yessir! Lookathere! I’m telling you the Youngers is really getting ready to “move on up a little higher!”—Bless God!
MAMA (A little drily, doubting the total sincerity of the Blesser) Bless God.
JOHNSON He’s good, ain’t He?
MAMA Oh yes, He’s good.
JOHNSON I mean sometimes He works in mysterious ways … but He works, don’t He!
MAMA (The same) Yes, he does.
JOHNSON I’m just soooooo happy for y’all. And this here child— (About RUTH) looks like she could just pop open with happiness, don’t she. Where’s all the rest of the family?
MAMA Bennie’s gone to bed—
JOHNSON Ain’t no … (The implication is pregnancy) sickness done hit you—I hope … ?
MAMA No—she just tired. She was out this evening.
JOHNSON (All is a coo, an emphatic coo) Aw—ain’t that lovely. She still going out with the little Murchison boy?
MAMA (Drily) Ummmm huh.
JOHNSON That’s lovely. You sure got lovely children, Younger. Me and Isaiah talks all the time ’bout what fine children you was blessed with. We sure do.
MAMA Ruth, give Mis’ Johnson a piece of sweet potato pie and some milk.
JOHNSON Oh honey, I can’t stay hardly a minute—I just dropped in to see if there was anything I could do. (Accepting the food easily) I guess y’all seen the news what’s all over the colored paper this week …
MAMA No—didn’t get mine yet this week.
JOHNSON (Lifting her head and blinking with the spirit of catastrophe) You mean you ain’t read ’bout them colored people that was bombed out their place out there?
(RUTH straightens with concern and takes the paper and reads it.
JOHNSON notices her and feeds commentary)
JOHNSON Ain’t it something how bad these here white folks is getting here in Chicago! Lord, getting so you think you right down in Mississippi! (With a tremendous and rather insincere sense of melodrama) ’Course I thinks it’s wonderful how our folks keeps on pushing out. You hear some of these Negroes ’round here talking ’bout how they don’t go where they ain’t wanted and all that—but not me, honey! (This is a lie) Wilhemenia Othella Johnson goes anywhere, any time she feels like it! (With head movement for emphasis) Yes I do! Why if we left it up to these here crackers, the poor niggers wouldn’t have nothing—(She clasps her hand over her mouth) Oh, I always forgets you don’t ’low that word in your house.
MAMA (Quietly, looking at her) No—I don’t ’low it.
JOHNSON (Vigorously again) Me neither! I was just telling Isaiah yesterday when he come using it in front of me—I said, “Isaiah, it’s just like Mis’ Younger says all the time—”
MAMA Don’t you want some more pie?
JOHNSON No—no thank you; this was lovely. I got to get on over home and have my midnight coffee. I hear some people say it don’t let them sleep but I finds I can’t close my eyes right lessen I done had that laaaast cup of coffee … (She waits. A beat. Undaunted) My Goodnight coffee, I calls it!
MAMA (With much eye-rolling and communication between herself and
RUTH) Ruth, why don’t you give Mis’ Johnson some coffee. (RUTH gives MAMA an unpleasant look for her kindness)
JOHNSON (Accepting the coffee) Where’s Brother tonight?
MAMA He’s lying down.
JOHNSON Mmmmmm, he sure gets his beauty rest, don’t he? Good- looking man. Sure is a good-looking man! (Reaching out to pat RUTH’S stomach again) I guess that’s how come we keep on having babies around here. (She winks at MAMA) One thing ’bout Brother, he always know how to have a good time. And soooooo ambitious! I bet it was his idea y’all moving out to Clybourne Park. Lord—I bet this time next month y’all’s names will have been in the papers plenty—(Holding up her hands to mark off each word of the headline she can see in front of her) “NEGROES INVADE CLYBOURNE PARK—BOMBED!”
MAMA (She and RUTH look at the woman in amazement) We ain’t exactly moving out there to get bombed.
JOHNSON Oh, honey—you know I’m praying to God every day that don’t nothing like that happen! But you have to think of life like it is—and these here Chicago peckerwoods is some baaaad peckerwoods.
MAMA (Wearily) We done thought about all that Mis’ Johnson.
(BENEATHA comes out of the bedroom in her robe and passes through to the bathroom. MRS. JOHNSON turns)
JOHNSON Hello there, Bennie!
BENEATHA (Crisply) Hello, Mrs. Johnson.
JOHNSON How is school?
BENEATHA (Crisply) Fine, thank you. (She goes out.)
JOHNSON (Insulted) Getting so she don’t have much to say to nobody.
MAMA The child was on her way to the bathroom.
JOHNSON I know—but sometimes she act like ain’t got time to pass the time of day with nobody ain’t been to college. Oh—I ain’t criticizing her none. It’s just—you know how some of our young people gets when they get a little education. (MAMA and RUTH say nothing, just look at her) Yes—well. Well, I guess I better get on
home. (Unmoving) ’Course I can understand how she must be proud and everything—being the only one in the family to make something of herself. I know just being a chauffeur ain’t never satisfied Brother none. He shouldn’t feel like that, though. Ain’t nothing wrong with being a chauffeur.
MAMA There’s plenty wrong with it.
JOHNSON What?
MAMA Plenty. My husband always said being any kind of a servant wasn’t a fit thing for a man to have to be. He always said a man’s hands was made to make things, or to turn the earth with—not to drive nobody’s car for ’em—or—(She looks at her own hands) carry they slop jars. And my boy is just like him—he wasn’t meant to wait on nobody.
JOHNSON (Rising, somewhat offended) Mmmmmmmmm. The Youngers is too much for me! (She looks around) You sure one proud-acting bunch of colored folks. Well—I always thinks like Booker T. Washington said that time—“Education has spoiled many a good plow hand”—
MAMA Is that what old Booker T. said?
JOHNSON He sure did.
MAMA Well, it sounds just like him. The fool.
JOHNSON (Indignantly) Well—he was one of our great men.
MAMA Who said so?
JOHNSON (Nonplussed) You know, me and you ain’t never agreed about some things, Lena Younger. I guess I better be going—
RUTH (Quickly) Good night.
JOHNSON Good night. Oh—(Thrusting it at her) You can keep the paper! (With a trill) ’Night.
MAMA Good night, Mis’ Johnson. (MRS. JOHNSON exits)
RUTH If ignorance was gold …
MAMA Shush. Don’t talk about folks behind their backs.
RUTH You do.
MAMA I’m old and corrupted. (BENEATHA enters) You was rude to Mis’ Johnson, Beneatha, and I don’t like it at all.
BENEATHA (At her door) Mama, if there are two things we, as a people, have got to overcome, one is the Ku Klux Klan—and the other is Mrs. Johnson. (She exits)
MAMA Smart aleck. (The phone rings)
RUTH I’ll get it.
MAMA Lord, ain’t this a popular place tonight.
RUTH (At the phone) Hello—Just a minute. (Goes to door) Walter, it’s Mrs. Arnold. (Waits. Goes back to the phone. Tense) Hello. Yes, this is his wife speaking … He’s lying down now. Yes … well, he’ll be in tomorrow. He’s been very sick. Yes—I know we should have called, but we were so sure he’d be able to come in today. Yes— yes, I’m very sorry. Yes … Thank you very much. (She hangs up. WALTER is standing in the doorway of the bedroom behind her) That was Mrs. Arnold.
WALTER (Indifferently) Was it?
RUTH She said if you don’t come in tomorrow that they are getting a new man …
WALTER Ain’t that sad—ain’t that crying sad.
RUTH She said Mr. Arnold has had to take a cab for three days … Walter, you ain’t been to work for three days! (This is a revelation to her) Where you been, Walter Lee Younger? (WALTER looks at her and starts to laugh) You’re going to lose your job.
WALTER That’s right … (He turns on the radio)
RUTH Oh, Walter, and with your mother working like a dog every day—
(A steamy, deep blues pours into the room)
WALTER That’s sad too— Everything is sad.
MAMA What you been doing for these three days, son?
WALTER Mama—you don’t know all the things a man what got leisure can find to do in this city … What’s this—Friday night? Well—Wednesday I borrowed Willy Harris’ car and I went for a drive … just me and myself and I drove and drove … Way out … way past South Chicago, and I parked the car and I sat and looked at the steel mills all day long. I just sat in the car and looked at them big black chimneys for hours. Then I drove back and I went to the Green Hat. (Pause) And Thursday—Thursday I borrowed the car again and I got in it and I pointed it the other way and I drove the other way—for hours—way, way up to Wisconsin, and I looked at the farms. I just drove and looked at the farms. Then I drove back and I went to the Green Hat. (Pause) And today—today I didn’t get the car. Today I just walked. All over the Southside. And I looked at the Negroes and they looked at me and finally I just sat down on the curb at Thirty-ninth and South Parkway and I just sat there and watched the Negroes go by. And then I went to the Green Hat. You all sad? You all depressed? And you know where I am going right now—
(RUTH goes out quietly)
MAMA Oh, Big Walter, is this the harvest of our days?
WALTER You know what I like about the Green Hat? I like this little cat they got there who blows a sax … He blows. He talks to me. He ain’t but ’bout five feet tall and he’s got a conked head and his eyes is always closed and he’s all music—
MAMA (Rising and getting some papers out of her handbag) Walter—
WALTER And there’s this other guy who plays the piano … and they got a sound. I mean they can work on some music … They got the best little combo in the world in the Green Hat … You can
just sit there and drink and listen to them three men play and you realize that don’t nothing matter worth a damn, but just being there—
MAMA I’ve helped do it to you, haven’t I, son? Walter I been wrong.
WALTER Naw—you ain’t never been wrong about nothing, Mama.
MAMA Listen to me, now. I say I been wrong, son. That I been doing to you what the rest of the world been doing to you. (She turns off the radio) Walter—(She stops and he looks up slowly at her and she meets his eyes pleadingly) What you ain’t never understood is that I ain’t got nothing, don’t own nothing, ain’t never really wanted nothing that wasn’t for you. There ain’t nothing as precious to me … There ain’t nothing worth holding on to, money, dreams, nothing else—if it means—if it means it’s going to destroy my boy. (She takes an envelope out of her handbag and puts it in front of him and he watches her without speaking or moving) I paid the man thirty-five hundred dollars down on the house. That leaves sixty-five hundred dollars. Monday morning I want you to take this money and take three thousand dollars and put it in a savings account for Beneatha’s medical schooling. The rest you put in a checking account—with your name on it. And from now on any penny that come out of it or that go in it is for you to look after. For you to decide. (She drops her hands a little helplessly) It ain’t much, but it’s all I got in the world and I’m putting it in your hands. I’m telling you to be the head of this family from now on like you supposed to be.
WALTER (Stares at the money) You trust me like that, Mama?
MAMA I ain’t never stop trusting you. Like I ain’t never stop loving you.
(She goes out, and WALTER sits looking at the money on the table. Finally, in a decisive gesture, he gets up, and, in mingled joy and desperation, picks up the money. At the same moment, TRAVIS enters for bed)
TRAVIS What’s the matter, Daddy? You drunk?
WALTER (Sweetly, more sweetly than we have ever known him) No, Daddy ain’t drunk. Daddy ain’t going to never be drunk again.…
TRAVIS Well, good night, Daddy.
(The FATHER has come from behind the couch and leans over, embracing his son)
WALTER Son, I feel like talking to you tonight.
TRAVIS About what?
WALTER Oh, about a lot of things. About you and what kind of man you going to be when you grow up. … Son—son, what do you want to be when you grow up?
TRAVIS A bus driver.
WALTER (Laughing a little) A what? Man, that ain’t nothing to want to be!
TRAVIS Why not?
WALTER ’Cause, man—it ain’t big enough—you know what I mean.
TRAVIS I don’t know then. I can’t make up my mind. Sometimes Mama asks me that too. And sometimes when I tell her I just want to be like you—she says she don’t want me to be like that and sometimes she says she does.…
WALTER (Gathering him up in his arms) You know what, Travis? In seven years you going to be seventeen years old. And things is going to be very different with us in seven years, Travis. … One day when you are seventeen I’ll come home—home from my office downtown somewhere—
TRAVIS You don’t work in no office, Daddy.
WALTER No—but after tonight. After what your daddy gonna do tonight, there’s going to be offices—a whole lot of offices.…
TRAVIS What you gonna do tonight, Daddy?
WALTER You wouldn’t understand yet, son, but your daddy’s gonna make a transaction … a business transaction that’s going to change our lives. … That’s how come one day when you ’bout
seventeen years old I’ll come home and I’ll be pretty tired, you know what I mean, after a day of conferences and secretaries getting things wrong the way they do … ’cause an executive’s life is hell, man—(The more he talks the farther away he gets) And I’ll pull the car up on the driveway … just a plain black Chrysler, I think, with white walls—no—black tires. More elegant. Rich people don’t have to be flashy … though I’ll have to get something a little sportier for Ruth—maybe a Cadillac convertible to do her shopping in. … And I’ll come up the steps to the house and the gardener will be clipping away at the hedges and he’ll say, “Good evening, Mr. Younger.” And I’ll say, “Hello, Jefferson, how are you this evening?” And I’ll go inside and Ruth will come downstairs and meet me at the door and we’ll kiss each other and she’ll take my arm and we’ll go up to your room to see you sitting on the floor with the catalogues of all the great schools in America around you. … All the great schools in the world! And—and I’ll say, all right son—it’s your seventeenth birthday, what is it you’ve decided? … Just tell me where you want to go to school and you’ll go. Just tell me, what it is you want to be—and you’ll be it. … Whatever you want to be—Yessir! (He holds his arms open for TRAVIS) YOU just name it, son … (TRAVIS leaps into them) and I hand you the world!
(WALTER’S voice has risen in pitch and hysterical promise and on the last line he lifts TRAVIS high)
Blackout
SCENE THREE
Time: Saturday, moving day, one week later.
Before the curtain rises, RUTH’S voice, a strident, dramatic church alto, cuts through the silence.
It is, in the darkness, a triumphant surge, a penetrating statement of expectation: “Oh, Lord, I don’t feel no ways tired! Children, oh, glory hallelujah!”
As the curtain rises we see that RUTH is alone in the living room,
finishing up the family’s packing. It is moving day. She is nailing crates and tying cartons. BENEATHA enters, carrying a guitar case, and watches her exuberant sister-in-law.
RUTH Hey!
BENEATHA (Putting away the case) Hi.
RUTH (Pointing at a package) Honey—look in that package there and see what I found on sale this morning at the South Center. (RUTH gets up and moves to the package and draws out some curtains) Lookahere—hand-turned hems!
BENEATHA How do you know the window size out there?
RUTH (Who hadn’t thought of that) Oh—Well, they bound to fit something in the whole house. Anyhow, they was too good a bargain to pass up. (RUTH slaps her head, suddenly remembering something) Oh, Bennie—I meant to put a special note on that carton over there. That’s your mama’s good china and she wants ’em to be very careful with it.
BENEATHA I’ll do it.
(BENEATHA finds a piece of paper and starts to draw large letters on it)
RUTH You know what I’m going to do soon as I get in that new house?
BENEATHA What?
RUTH Honey—I’m going to run me a tub of water up to here … (With her fingers practically up to her nostrils) And I’m going to get in it—and I am going to sit … and sit … and sit in that hot water and the first person who knocks to tell me to hurry up and come out—
BENEATHA Gets shot at sunrise.
RUTH (Laughing happily) You said it, sister! (Noticing how large BENEATHA is absent-mindedly making the note) Honey, they ain’t going to read that from no airplane.
BENEATHA (Laughing herself) I guess I always think things have more emphasis if they are big, somehow.
RUTH (Looking up at her and smiling) You and your brother seem to have that as a philosophy of life. Lord, that man—done changed so ’round here. You know—you know what we did last night? Me and Walter Lee?
BENEATHA What?
RUTH (Smiling to herself) We went to the movies. (Looking at BENEATHA to see if she understands) We went to the movies. You know the last time me and Walter went to the movies together?
beneatha No.
RUTH Me neither. That’s how long it been. (Smiling again) But we went last night. The picture wasn’t much good, but that didn’t seem to matter. We went—and we held hands.
BENEATHA Oh, Lord!
RUTH We held hands—and you know what?
BENEATHA What?
RUTH When we come out of the show it was late and dark and all the stores and things was closed up.… and it was kind of chilly and there wasn’t many people on the streets … and we was still holding hands, me and Walter.
BENEATHA You’re killing me.
(WALTER enters with a large package. His happiness is deep in him; he cannot keep still with his newfound exuberance. He is singing and wiggling and snapping his fingers. He puts his package in a corner and puts a phonograph record, which he has brought in with him, on the record player. As the music, soulful and sensuous, comes up he dances over to RUTH and tries to get her to dance with him. She gives in at last to his raunchiness and in a fit of giggling allows herself to be drawn into his mood. They dip and she melts into his arms in a classic, body-melding “slow drag”)
BENEATHA (Regarding them a long time as they dance, then drawing in her breath for a deeply exaggerated comment which she does not particularly mean) Talk about—oldddddddddd-fashioneddddddd
—Negroes!
WALTER (Stopping momentarily) What kind of Negroes? (He says this in fun. He is not angry with her today, nor with anyone. He starts to dance with his wife again)
BENEATHA Old-fashioned.
WALTER (As he dances with RUTH) You know, when these New Negroes have their convention—(Pointing at his sister)—that is going to be the chairman of the Committee on Unending Agitation. (He goes on dancing, then stops) Race, race, race! … Girl, I do believe you are the first person in the history of the entire human race to successfully brainwash yourself. (BENEATHA breaks up and he goes on dancing. He stops again, enjoying his tease) Damn, even the N double A C P takes a holiday sometimes! (BENEATHA and RUTH laugh. He dances with RUTH some more and starts to laugh and stops and pantomimes someone over an operating table) I can just see that chick someday looking down at some poor cat on an operating table and before she starts to slice him, she says … (Pulling his sleeves back maliciously) “By the way, what are your views on civil rights down there? …”
(He laughs at her again and starts to dance happily. The bell sounds)
BENEATHA Sticks and stones may break my bones but … words will never hurt me!
(BENEATHA goes to the door and opens it as WALTER and RUTH go on with the clowning. BENEATHA is somewhat surprised to see a quiet- looking middle-aged white man in a business suit holding his hat and a briefcase in his hand and consulting a small piece of paper)
MAN Uh—how do you do, miss. I am looking for a Mrs.—(He looks at the slip of paper) Mrs. Lena Younger? (He stops short, struck dumb at the sight of the oblivious WALTER and RUTH)
BENEATHA (Smoothing her hair with slight embarrassment) Oh—yes, that’s my mother. Excuse me (She closes the door and turns to quiet the other two) Ruth! Brother! (Enunciating precisely but soundlessly: “There’s a white man at the door!” They stop dancing, RUTH cuts off the phonograph, BENEATHA opens the door. The man casts a curious quick glance at all of them) Uh—come in please.
MAN (Coming in) Thank you.
BENEATHA My mother isn’t here just now. Is it business?
MAN Yes … well, of a sort.
WALTER (Freely, the Man of the House) Have a seat. I’m Mrs.
Younger’s son. I look after most of her business matters. (RUTH and BENEATHA exchange amused glances)
MAN (Regarding WALTER, and sitting) Well—My name is Karl Lindner …
WALTER (Stretching out his hand) Walter Younger. This is my wife— (RUTH nods politely)—and my sister.
LINDNER How do you do.
WALTER (Amiably, as he sits himself easily on a chair, leaning forward on his knees with interest and looking expectantly into the newcomer’s face) What can we do for you, Mr. Lindner!
LINDNER (Some minor shuffling of the hat and briefcase on his knees)
Well—I am a representative of the Clybourne Park Improvement Association—
WALTER (Pointing) Why don’t you sit your things on the floor?
LINDNER Oh—yes. Thank you. (He slides the briefcase and hat under the chair) And as I was saying—I am from the Clybourne Park Improvement Association and we have had it brought to our attention at the last meeting that you people—or at least your mother—has bought a piece of residential property at—(He digs for the slip of paper again)—four o six Clybourne Street …
WALTER That’s right. Care for something to drink? Ruth, get Mr.
Lindner a beer.
LINDNER (Upset for some reason) Oh—no, really. I mean thank you very much, but no thank you.
RUTH (Innocently) Some coffee?
LINDNER Thank you, nothing at all. (BENEATHA is watching the man carefully)
LINDNER Well, I don’t know how much you folks know about our organization. (He is a gentle man; thoughtful and somewhat labored in his manner) It is one of these community organizations set up to look after—oh, you know, things like block upkeep and special projects and we also have what we call our New Neighbors Orientation Committee …
BENEATHA (Drily) Yes—and what do they do?
LINDNER (Turning a little to her and then returning the main force to WALTER) Well—it’s what you might call a sort of welcoming committee, I guess. I mean they, we—I’m the chairman of the committee—go around and see the new people who move into the neighborhood and sort of give them the lowdown on the way we do things out in Clybourne Park.
BENEATHA (With appreciation of the two meanings, which escape RUTH
and WALTER) Un-huh.
LINDNER And we also have the category of what the association calls
—(He looks elsewhere)—uh—special community problems …
BENEATHA Yes—and what are some of those?
WALTER Girl, let the man talk.
LINDNER (With understated relief) Thank you. I would sort of like to explain this thing in my own way. I mean I want to explain to you in a certain way.
WALTER Go ahead.
LINDNER Yes. Well. I’m going to try to get right to the point. I’m sure we’ll all appreciate that in the long run.
BENEATHA Yes.
WALTER Be still now!
LINDNER Well—
RUTH (Still innocently) Would you like another chair—you don’t look comfortable.
LINDNER (More frustrated than annoyed) No, thank you very much. Please. Well—to get right to the point I—(A great breath, and he is off at last) I am sure you people must be aware of some of the incidents which have happened in various parts of the city when colored people have moved into certain areas— (BENEATHA exhales heavily and starts tossing a piece of fruit up and down in the air) Well—because we have what I think is going to be a unique type of organization in American community life— not only do we deplore that kind of thing—but we are trying to do something about it. (BENEATHA stops tossing and turns with a new and quizzical interest to the man) We feel—(gaining confidence in his mission because of the interest in the faces of the people he is talking to)—we feel that most of the trouble in this world, when you come right down to it—(He hits his knee for emphasis)—most of the trouble exists because people just don’t sit down and talk to each other.
RUTH (Nodding as she might in church, pleased with the remark) You
can say that again, mister.
LINDNER (More encouraged by such affirmation) That we don’t try hard enough in this world to understand the other fellow’s problem. The other guy’s point of view.
RUTH Now that’s right.
(BENEATHA and WALTER merely watch and listen with genuine interest)
LINDNER Yes—that’s the way we feel out in Clybourne Park. And that’s why I was elected to come here this afternoon and talk to you people. Friendly like, you know, the way people should talk to each other and see if we couldn’t find some way to work this thing out. As I say, the whole business is a matter of caring about the other fellow. Anybody can see that you are a nice family of folks, hard working and honest I’m sure. (BENEATHA frowns slightly, quizzically, her head tilted regarding him) Today everybody knows what it means to be on the outside of something. And of course, there is always somebody who is out to take advantage of people who don’t always understand.
WALTER What do you mean?
LINDNER Well—you see our community is made up of people who’ve worked hard as the dickens for years to build up that little community. They’re not rich and fancy people; just hard- working, honest people who don’t really have much but those little homes and a dream of the kind of community they want to raise their children in. Now, I don’t say we are perfect and there is a lot wrong in some of the things they want. But you’ve got to admit that a man, right or wrong, has the right to want to have the neighborhood he lives in a certain kind of way. And at the moment the overwhelming majority of our people out there feel that people get along better, take more of a common interest in the life of the community, when they share a common background. I want you to believe me when I tell you that race prejudice simply doesn’t enter into it. It is a matter of the people of Clybourne Park believing, rightly or wrongly, as I say, that for the happiness of all concerned that our Negro families are
happier when they live in their own communities.
BENEATHA (With a grand and bitter gesture) This, friends, is the Welcoming Committee!
WALTER (Dumbfounded, looking at LINDNER) IS this what you came marching all the way over here to tell us?
LINDNER Well, now we’ve been having a fine conversation. I hope you’ll hear me all the way through.
WALTER (Tightly) Go ahead, man.
LINDNER You see—in the face of all the things I have said, we are prepared to make your family a very generous offer …
BENEATHA Thirty pieces and not a coin less!
WALTER Yeah?
LINDNER (Putting on his glasses and drawing a form out of the briefcase) Our association is prepared, through the collective effort of our people, to buy the house from you at a financial gain to your family.
RUTH Lord have mercy, ain’t this the living gall!
WALTER All right, you through?
LINDNER Well, I want to give you the exact terms of the financial arrangement—
WALTER We don’t want to hear no exact terms of no arrangements. I want to know if you got any more to tell us ’bout getting together?
LINDNER (Taking off his glasses) Well—I don’t suppose that you feel …
WALTER Never mind how I feel—you got any more to say ’bout how people ought to sit down and talk to each other? … Get out of my house, man.
(He turns his back and walks to the door)
LINDNER (Looking around at the hostile faces and reaching and assembling his hat and briefcase) Well—I don’t understand why you people are reacting this way. What do you think you are
going to gain by moving into a neighborhood where you just aren’t wanted and where some elements—well—people can get awful worked up when they feel that their whole way of life and everything they’ve ever worked for is threatened.
WALTER Get out.
LINDNER (At the door, holding a small card) Well—I’m sorry it went like this.
WALTER Get out.
LINDNER (Almost sadly regarding wALTER) YOU just can’t force people to change their hearts, son.
(He turns and put his card on a table and exits. WALTER pushes the door to with stinging hatred, and stands looking at it. RUTH just sits and BENEATHA just stands. They say nothing. MAMA and TRAVIS enter)
MAMA Well—this all the packing got done since I left out of here this morning. I testify before God that my children got all the energy of the dead! What time the moving men due?
BENEATHA Four o’clock. You had a caller, Mama. (She is smiling, teasingly)
MAMA Sure enough—who?
BENEATHA (Her arms folded saucily) The Welcoming Committee. (WALTER and RUTH giggle)
MAMA (Innocently) Who?
BENEATHA The Welcoming Committee. They said they’re sure going to be glad to see you when you get there.
WALTER (Devilishly) Yeah, they said they can’t hardly wait to see your face.
(Laughter)
MAMA (Sensing their facetiousness) What’s the matter with you all?
WALTER Ain’t nothing the matter with us. We just telling you ’bout the gentleman who came to see you this afternoon. From the Clybourne Park Improvement Association.
MAMA What he want?
RUTH (In the same mood as BENEATHA and WALTER) TO welcome you, honey.
WALTER He said they can’t hardly wait. He said the one thing they don’t have, that they just dying to have out there is a fine family of fine colored people! (To RUTH and BENEATHA) Ain’t that right!
RUTH (Mockingly) Yeah! He left his card—
BENEATHA (Handing card to MAMA) In case.
(MAMA reads and throws it on the floor—understanding and looking off as she draws her chair up to the table on which she has put her plant and some sticks and some cord)
MAMA Father, give us strength. (Knowingly—and without fun) Did he threaten us?
BENEATHA Oh—Mama—they don’t do it like that any more. He talked Brotherhood. He said everybody ought to learn how to sit down and hate each other with good Christian fellowship.
(She and WALTER shake hands to ridicule the remark)
MAMA (Sadly) Lord, protect us …
RUTH You should hear the money those folks raised to buy the house from us. All we paid and then some.
BENEATHA What they think we going to do—eat ’em?
RUTH No, honey, marry ’em.
MAMA (Shaking her head) Lord, Lord, Lord …
RUTH Well—that’s the way the crackers crumble. (A beat) Joke.
BENEATHA (Laughingly noticing what her mother is doing) Mama, what are you doing?
MAMA Fixing my plant so it won’t get hurt none on the way …
BENEATHA Mama, you going to take that to the new house?
MAMA Un-huh—
BENEATHA That raggedy-looking old thing?
MAMA (Stopping and looking at her) It expresses ME!
RUTH (With delight, to BENEATHA) SO there, Miss Thing! (WALTER comes to MAMA suddenly and bends down behind her and squeezes her in his arms with all his strength. She is overwhelmed by the suddenness of it and, though delighted, her manner is like that of KUTH and TRAVIS)
MAMA Look out now, boy! You make me mess up my thing here!
WALTER (His face lit, he slips down on his knees beside her, his arms still about her) Mama … you know what it means to climb up in the chariot?
MAMA (Gruffly, very happy) Get on away from me now …
RUTH (Near the gift-wrapped package, trying to catch WALTER’S eye) Psst
—
WALTER What the old song say, Mama …
RUTH Walter—Now?
(She is pointing at the package)
WALTER (Speaking the lines, sweetly, playfully, in his mother’s face) I got wings … you got wings …
All God’s children got wings …
MAMA Boy—get out of my face and do some work …
WALTER
When I get to heaven gonna put on my wings, Gonna fly all over God’s heaven …
BENEATHA (Teasingly, from across the room) Everybody talking ’bout heaven ain’t going there!
WALTER (To RUTH, who is carrying the box across to them) I don’t know, you think we ought to give her that … Seems to me she ain’t been very appreciative around here.
MAMA (Eyeing the box, which is obviously a gift) What is that?
WALTER (Taking it from RUTH and putting it on the table in front of
MAMA) Well—what you all think? Should we give it to her?
RUTH Oh—she was pretty good today.
MAMA I’ll good you—
(She turns her eyes to the box again)
BENEATHA Open it, Mama.
(She stands up, looks at it, turns and looks at all of them, and then presses her hands together and does not open the package)
WALTER (Sweetly) Open it, Mama. It’s for you. (MAMA looks in his eyes. It is the first present in her life without its being Christmas. Slowly she opens her package and lifts out, one by one, a brand-new sparkling set of gardening tools. WALTER continues, prodding) Ruth made up the note—read it …
MAMA (Picking up the card and adjusting her glasses) “To our own Mrs. Miniver—Love from Brother, Ruth and Beneatha.” Ain’t that lovely …
TRAVIS (Tugging at his father’s sleeve) Daddy, can I give her mine now?
WALTER All right, son. (TRAVIS flies to get his gift)
MAMA Now I don’t have to use my knives and forks no more …
WALTER Travis didn’t want to go in with the rest of us, Mama. He got his own. (Somewhat amused) We don’t know what it is …
TRAVIS (Racing back in the room with a large hatbox and putting it in front of his grandmother) Here!
MAMA Lord have mercy, baby. You done gone and bought your grandmother a hat?
TRAVIS (very proud) Open it!
(She does and lifts out an elaborate, but very elaborate, wide gardening hat, and all the adults break up at the sight of it)
RUTH Travis, honey, what is that?
TRAVIS (Who thinks it is beautiful and appropriate) It’s a gardening hat! Like the ladies always have on in the magazines when they work in their gardens.
BENEATHA (Giggling fiercely) Travis—we were trying to make Mama Mrs. Miniver—not Scarlett O’Hara!
MAMA (Indignantly) What’s the matter with you all! This here is a beautiful hat! (Absurdly) I always wanted me one just like it!
(She pops it on her head to prove it to her grandson, and the hat is ludicrous and considerably oversized)
RUTH Hot dog! Go, Mama!
WALTER (Doubled over with laughter) I’m sorry, Mama—but you look like you ready to go out and chop you some cotton sure enough!
(They all laugh except MAMA, out of deference to TRAVIS’ feelings)
MAMA (Gathering the boy up to her) Bless your heart—this is the prettiest hat I ever owned— (WALTER, RUTH and BENEATHA chime in
—noisily, festively and insincerely congratulating TRAVIS on his gift) What are we all standing around here for? We ain’t finished packin’ yet. Bennie, you ain’t packed one book.
(The bell rings)
BENEATHA That couldn’t be the movers … it’s not hardly two good yet—
(BENEATHA goes into her room. MAMA starts for door)
WALTER (Turning, stiffening) Wait—wait—I’ll get it.
(He stands and looks at the door)
MAMA You expecting company, son?
WALTER (Just looking at the door) Yeah—yeah …
(MAMA looks at RUTH, and they exchange innocent and unfrightened glances)
MAMA (Not understanding) Well, let them in, son.
BENEATHA (From her room) We need some more string.
MAMA Travis—you run to the hardware and get me some string cord.
(MAMA goes out and WALTER turns and looks at RUTH. TRAVIS goes to a dish for money)
RUTH Why don’t you answer the door, man?
WALTER (Suddenly bounding across the floor to embrace her) ’Cause sometimes it hard to let the future begin!
(Stooping down in her face)
I got wings! You got wings! All God’s children got wings!
(He crosses to the door and throws it open. Standing there is a very slight little man in a not too prosperous business suit and with haunted frightened eyes and a hat pulled down tightly, brim up, around his forehead. TRAVIS passes between the men and exits. WALTER leans deep in the man’s face, still in his jubilance)
When I get to heaven gonna put on my wings, Gonna fly all over God’s heaven …
(The little man just stares at him) Heaven—
(Suddenly he stops and looks past the little man into the empty hallway) Where’s Willy, man?
BOBO He ain’t with me.
WALTER (Not disturbed) Oh—come on in. You know my wife.
BOBO (Dumbly, taking off his hat) Yes—h’you, Miss Ruth.
RUTH (Quietly, a mood apart from her husband already, seeing BOBO)
Hello, Bobo.
WALTER You right on time today … Right on time. That’s the way! (He slaps BOBO on his back) Sit down … lemme hear.
(RUTH stands stiffly and quietly in back of them, as though somehow she senses death, her eyes fixed on her husband)
BOBO (His frightened eyes on the floor, his hat in his hands) Could I please get a drink of water, before I tell you about it, Walter Lee?
(WALTER does not take his eyes off the man. RUTH goes blindly to the tap and gets a glass of water and brings it to BOBO)
WALTER There ain’t nothing wrong, is there?
BOBO Lemme tell you—
WALTER Man—didn’t nothing go wrong?
BOBO Lemme tell you—Walter Lee. (Looking at RUTH and talking to her more than to WALTER) YOU know how it was. I got to tell you how it was. I mean first I got to tell you how it was all the way … I mean about the money I put in, Walter Lee …
WALTER (With taut agitation now) What about the money you put in?
BOBO Well—it wasn’t much as we told you—me and Willy—(He stops) I’m sorry, Walter. I got a bad feeling about it. I got a real bad feeling about it …
WALTER Man, what you telling me about all this for? … Tell me what happened in Springfield …
BOBO Springfield.
RUTH (Like a dead woman) What was supposed to happen in Springfield?
BOBO (To her) This deal that me and Walter went into with Willy— Me and Willy was going to go down to Springfield and spread some money ’round so’s we wouldn’t have to wait so long for the liquor license … That’s what we were going to do. Everybody said that was the way you had to do, you understand, Miss Ruth?
WALTER Man—what happened down there?
BOBO (A pitiful man, near tears) I’m trying to tell you, Walter.
WALTER (Screaming at him suddenly) THEN TELL ME, GODDAMMIT … WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU?
BOBO Man … I didn’t go to no Springfield, yesterday.
WALTER (Halted, life hanging in the moment) Why not?
BOBO (The long way, the hard way to tell) ’Cause I didn’t have no reasons to …
WALTER Man, what are you talking about!
BOBO I’m talking about the fact that when I got to the train station yesterday morning—eight o’clock like we planned … Man—Willy didn’t never show up.
WALTER Why … where was he … where is he?
BOBO: That’s what I’m trying to say…I don’t know… I waited six hours… called his house… waited six hours… I sat in that train station for six hours… (breaking into tears) That was all the extra money I had in the world… (He looks up at WALTER, tears streaming down his face.) Man, Willy is gone.
WALTER: Gone? What do you mean, Willy is gone? Gone where? You mean he left by himself? He went off to Springfield alone to get the license? (He turns anxiously to RUTH.) You think maybe he didn’t want too many people involved in the business down there? (Looks back to RUTH again.) You know Willy has his own ways. (Turns back to BOBO.) Maybe you were late yesterday, and he just went without you. Maybe—maybe he’s been trying to call you at home to explain what happened. Maybe—maybe he just got sick. He’s got to be somewhere—we need to find him. You and me, we’ve got to find him. (He grabs BOBO by the collar and shakes him.) We have to!
BOBO (suddenly angry and scared): What’s wrong with you, Walter! When a cat runs off with your money, he doesn’t leave you a road map!
WALTER (frantically searching the room): Willy! … Willy… don’t do this… Please don’t do this… Not with that money… Oh, God… don’t let it be true… (He paces, calling for WILLY, looking for him or maybe for help from God.) Man… I trusted you… I put my life in your hands… (He starts to crumple to the floor, while RUTH covers her face in horror. MAMA enters with BENEATHA behind her.) Man… (He begins to pound the floor with his fists, sobbing uncontrollably.) THAT MONEY IS MADE OUT OF MY FATHER’S FLESH—
BOBO (Standing over him helplessly) I’m sorry, Walter … (Only WALTER’S sobs reply. BOBO puts on his hat) I had my life staked on this deal, too …
(He exits)
MAMA (To WALTER) Son—(She goes to him, bends down to him, talks to his bent head) Son … Is it gone? Son, I gave you sixty-five hundred dollars. Is it gone? All of it? Beneatha’s money too?
WALTER (Lifting his head slowly) Mama … I never … went to the bank at all …
MAMA (Not wanting to believe him) You mean … your sister’s school money … you used that too … Walter? …
WALTER Yessss! All of it … It’s all gone …
(There is total silence. RUTH stands with her face covered with her hands; BENEATHA leans forlornly against a wall, fingering a piece of red ribbon from the mother’s gift. MAMA stops and looks at her son
without recognition and then, quite without thinking about it, starts to beat him senselessly in the face. BENEATHA goes to them and stops it)
BENEATHA Mama!
(MAMA stops and looks at both of her children and rises slowly and wanders vaguely, aimlessly away from them)
MAMA I seen … him … night after night … come in … and look at that rug … and then look at me … the red showing in his eyes … the veins moving in his head … I seen him grow thin and old before he was forty … working and working and working like somebody’s old horse … killing himself … and you —you give it all away in a day—(She raises her arms to strike him again)
BENEATHA Mama—
MAMA Oh, God … (She looks up to Him) Look down here—and show me the strength.
BENEATHA Mama—
MAMA (Folding over) Strength … BENEATHA (Plaintively) Mama … MAMA Strength!
Curtain
* This character and the scene of her visit were cut from the original production and early editions of the play.
