Inherit the Wind by Jerome Lawrence

Author:Jerome Lawrence
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2016-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

ACT THREE

ACT THREE

The courtroom, the following day. The lighting is low, somber. A spot burns down on the defense table, where DRUMMOND and CATES sit, waiting for the jury to return. DRUMMOND leans back in a meditative mood, feet propped on a chair. CATES, the focus of the furor, is resting his head on his arms. The courtroom is almost empty. Two spectators doze in their chairs. In comparative shadow, BRADY sits, eating a box lunch. He is drowning his troubles with food, as an alcoholic escapes from reality with a straight shot. HORNBECK enters, bows low to BRADY.

HORNBECK

Afternoon, Colonel. Having high tea, I see.

(BRADY ignores him)

Is the jury still out? Swatting flies

And wrestling with justice—in that order?

(HORNBECK crosses to DRUMMOND. CATES lifts his head)

I’ll hate to see the jury filing in;

Won’t you, Colonel? I’ll miss Hillsboro—

Especially this courthouse:

A melange of Moorish and Methodist;

It must have been designed by a congressman!

(HORNBECK smirks at his own joke, then sits in the shadows and pores over a newspaper. Neither CATES nor DRUMMOND have paid the slightest attention to him.)

CATES

(Staring straight ahead)

Mr. Drummond. What’s going to happen?

DRUMMOND

What do you think is going to happen, Bert?

CATES

Do you think they’ll send me to prison?

DRUMMOND

They could.

CATES

They don’t ever let you see anybody from the outside, do they? I mean—you can just talk to a visitor—through a window—the way they show it in the movies?

DRUMMOND

Oh, it’s not as bad as all that. (Turning toward the town) When they started this fire here, they never figured it would light up the whole sky. A lot of people’s shoes are getting hot. But you can’t be too sure.

(At the other side of the stage, BRADY rises majestically from his debris of paper napkins and banana peels, and goes off.)

CATES

(Watching BRADY go off)

He seems so sure. He seems to know what the verdict’s going to be.

DRUMMOND

Nobody knows. (He tugs on one ear) I’ve got a pretty good idea. When you’ve been a lawyer as long as I have—a thousand years more or less—you get so you can smell the way a jury’s thinking.

CATES

What are they thinking right now?

DRUMMOND

(Sighing)

Someday I’m going to get me an easy case. An open-and-shut case. I’ve got a friend up in Chicago. Big lawyer. Lord how the money rolls in! You know why? He never takes a case unless it’s a sure thing. Like a jockey who won’t go in a race unless he can ride the favorite.

CATES

You sure picked the long shot this time, Mr. Drummond.

DRUMMOND

Sometimes I think the law is like a horse race. Sometimes it seems to me I ride like fury, just to end up back where I started. Might as well be on a merry-go-round, or a rocking horse…or…(He half-closes his eyes. His voice is far away, his lips barely move) Golden Dancer….

CATES

What did you say?

DRUMMOND

That was the name of my first long shot. Golden Dancer. She was in the big side window of the general store in Wakeman, Ohio. I used to stand out in the street and say to myself, “If I had Golden Dancer I’d have everything in the world that I wanted.

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