Chapters (27)
| Except maybe on his lady’s pillow. | |
| PHEBE | What are you trying to say, Scylla? |
| SCYLLA | I ain’t trying to say nothing. |
| ALEXANDER |
He’s certainly the boldest nigger I’ve ever seen. |
| SCIPIO | (Shaking his head in admiration.) |
|
That’s the truth there! The way he handles Massa Jones— no bowing or scraping for him. That eye of his could cut through stone. Jones don’t know what to do with that nigger! He’s plain scared, and that’s a fact. |
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| PHEBE | Maybe they’re just talking. |
| DIANA | Augustus is nice. |
| ALEXANDER | Nice as the devil was to Eve. |
| SCYLLA |
A slave and his missus ain’t got nothing to talk about. Oh, he might have bold ideas, but he’ll never put them to work. She’ll see to that. |
| PHEBE | What do you mean? |
| SCYLLA |
That first master of his kept him in style. That’s why he ran away so much afterwards— he ain’t used to being treated like a regular slave. A whip can’t make him behave: Miss Amalia knows that. So she’s trying another way— and it appears to be working. |
| SCIPIO | Well, I’ll be. |
| DIANA | What ’pears to be working? |
| SCYLLA |
What’s the only thing white folks think a nigger buck’s good for? It wouldn’t be the first time. |
| ALEXANDER | (Slowly.) |
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If that’s what he’s doing, he’s headed for big trouble. |
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| PHEBE |
I don’t believe it! And even if it’s true, it’s ’cause he ain’t got no choice! |
| SCYLLA | You been mighty contrary lately, Phebe. |
| PHEBE | I ain’t afraid of every shadow! |
| SCIPIO | (Trying to avert disaster.) |
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Scylla, don’t mind her. She’s feeling the weather. |
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| SCYLLA | I’m warning you, Phebe. |
| PHEBE |
I already got a pack of curses on my head. A few more won’t hurt. |
| ALEXANDER | Phebe! Don’t talk to Scylla like that! |
| PHEBE |
Should have done it a long time ago. Woman had me nearly crazy! If anyone around here’s putting sharp stones in my path, it ain’t no earth spirit. If there’s a curse here, Scylla, it’s you. |
Everyone stops stamping.
| DIANA | Phebe . . . |
| PHEBE |
Yes, Scylla, you’re the curse— with all your roots and potions. Tell me: How come you never put a spell on Miss Amalia? Why didn’t you sprinkle some powder over a candle to make her house go up in flames one night? That would have been some magic. |
Timid murmurs from the others.