DRUMMOND

All I want is to prevent the clock-stoppers from dumping a load of medieval nonsense into the United States Constitution.

JUDGE

This is not a Federal court.

DRUMMOND

(Slapping his hand on the table)

Well, dammit, you’ve got to stop ’em somewhere.

(The JUDGE beats with his gavel)

JUDGE

Gentlemen, you are both out of order. The bench holds that the jury has been selected. (BRADY lets his arms fall, with a gesture of sweet charity) Because of the lateness of the hour and the unusual heat, the court is recessed until ten o’clock tomorrow morning. (JUDGE raps the gavel, and the court begins to break up. Then the JUDGE notices a slip of paper, and raps for order again) Oh. The Reverend Brown has asked me to make this announcement. There will be a prayer meeting tonight on the courthouse lawn, to pray for justice and guidance. All are invited.

DRUMMOND

Your Honor. I object to this commercial announcement.

JUDGE

Commercial announcement?

DRUMMOND

For Reverend Brown’s product. Why don’t you announce that there will be an Evolutionist meeting?

JUDGE

I have no knowledge of such a meeting.

DRUMMOND

That’s understandable. It’s bad enough that everybody coming into this courtroom has to walk underneath a banner that says: “Read Your Bible!” Your Honor, I want that sign taken down! Or else I want another one put up—just as big, just as big letters—saying “Read Your Darwin!”

JUDGE

That’s preposterous!

DRUMMOND

It certainly is!

JUDGE

You are out of order, Colonel Drummond. The court stands recessed.

(As the formality of the courtroom is relaxed, there is a general feeling of relief. Spectators and jury members adjust their sticky clothes, and start moving off. Many of the townspeople gather around BRADY, to shake his hand, get his autograph, and to stand for a moment in the great man’s presence. They cluster about him, and follow BRADY as he goes off, the shepherd leading his flock. In marked contrast, DRUMMOND packs away his brief in a tattered leather case; but no one comes near him. RACHEL moves toward BERT. They stand face-to-face, wordlessly. Both seem to wish the whole painful turmoil were over. Suddenly, RACHEL darts to DRUMMOND’S side. CATES opens his mouth to stop her, but she speaks rapidly, with pent-up tension.)

RACHEL

Mr. Drummond. You’ve got to call the whole thing off. It’s not too late. Bert knows he did wrong. He didn’t mean to. And he’s sorry. Now why can’t he just stand up and say to everybody: “I did wrong. I broke a law. I admit it. I won’t do it again.” Then they’d stop all this fuss, and—everything would be like it was.

(DRUMMOND looks at RACHEL, not unkindly.)

DRUMMOND

Who are you?

RACHEL

I’m—a friend of Bert’s.

(DRUMMOND turns to CATES.)

DRUMMOND

How about it, boy? Getting cold feet?

CATES

I never thought it would be like this. Like Barnum and Bailey coming to town.

DRUMMOND

(Easily)

We can call it off. You want to quit?