Chapters (27)
LOUIS paces back and forth in his room, holding a chart; he stops to stare at it for a moment, then waves it in disgust and paces once more.
| LOUIS |
Something’s out there: I can feel it! What a discovery it would be. But no— |
Grabs his brandy.
|
No new coin shines for Louis LaFarge among the stars! |
He stops at the window and stares out.
AMALIA sits in the parlor reading, a decanter of sherry and a tea service on the table next to the sofa. The evening song of the SLAVES floats in from the fields—a plaintive air with a compelling affirmation of life, a strange melody with no distinct beat or tune. TICEY, the old house slave, enters.
| TICEY | Miss Amalia? |
| AMALIA |
(Without turning.) Yes? |
| TICEY |
That new slave, Ma’am— he’s standing at the front porch! |
| AMALIA | (Amused.) |
| The front porch? Well, show him in, Ticey! |
TICEY exits; AMALIA rises and goes to the window. She is looking out toward the fields when AUGUSTUS appears in the doorway. Although she knows he is there, she does not turn around.
| AMALIA | What are they singing? |
| AUGUSTUS |
No words you’d understand. No tune you’d recognize. |
| AMALIA | And how is it they all sing together? |
| AUGUSTUS |
It’s the sorrow songs. They don’t need a psalm book. |
| AMALIA | (Resumes her imperious manner.) |
|
“‘Personal servant to Captain Newcastle of the schooner Victoria. Ports of call: St. Thomas, Tobago, St. Croix, Martinique’—in other words, a slave ship.” |
|
| AUGUSTUS | Yes. |
| AMALIA |
And what did you learn under your captain’s tutelage? |
| AUGUSTUS | Reading. Writing. Figures. |
| AMALIA | What did you read? |
| AUGUSTUS |
Milton. The Bible. And the Tales of the Greeks. |
| AMALIA | (Thrusting the book she’s been reading at him.) |
|
See the blue ribbon sticking out? You may start there. |
AUGUSTUS turns the book over to read the title, then looks at her for a moment before returning it. She snatches the book.
| AMALIA |
Too difficult? No doubt you’d do better with the Greek original— |
Slyly.
| but we are not that cultured a household. |
Circling him.
|
I wondered could there be a nigger alive smart as this one’s claimed to be? Of course, if there were, he might be smart enough to pretend he wasn’t smart at all. |
|
| AUGUSTUS |
No pretense. I’ve read that one already. In my opinion, the Greeks were a bit too predictable. |
| AMALIA | A slave has no opinion! |
Regaining her composure.
|
I could have you flogged to your bones for what you did today. |
|
| AUGUSTUS | Why didn’t you? |
The SLAVES stop singing.