ACT 2, SCENE ONE (Pgs 76-90)
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?
RUTH (Pearl Bailey) What kind of folks do that, honey?
BENEATHA It’s from Nigeria. It’s a dance of welcome.
BENEATHA The men back to the village.
BENEATHA How should I know—out hunting or something. Anyway, they are coming back now …
BENEATHA (With the record)
(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)
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—
WALTER —Do you hear the waters rushing against the shores of the coastlands—
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—
(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—
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.
60 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)