Inherit the Wind: The Powerful Courtroom Drama in which Two Men Wage the Legal War of the Century

Jerome Lawrence was an American playwright and author. Robert Edwin Lee was an American playwright and lyricist. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. ACT ONE SCENE I In and around the Hillsboro Courthouse. The foreground is the actual courtroom, with jury box, judge’s bench and a scattering of trial-scarred chairs and counsel tables. The back wall of the courtroom is non-existent. On a raked level above it is the courthouse square, the Main Street and the converging streets of the town. This is not so much a literal view of Hillsboro as it is an impression of a sleepy, obscure country town about to be vigorously awakened. It is important to the concept of the play that the town is visible always, looming there, as much on trial as the individual defendant. The crowd is equally important throughout, so that the court becomes a cock-pit, an arena, with the active spectators on all sides of it. “It is an hour after dawn on a July day that promises to be a scorcher. HOWARD, a boy of thirteen, wanders onto the courthouse lawn. He is barefoot, wearing a pair of his pa’s cut-down overalls. He carries an improvised fishing pole and a tin can. He studies the ground carefully, searching for something. A young girl’s voice calls from off-stage. MELINDA (Calling sweetly) How-ard! (HOWARD, annoyed, turns and looks toward the voice. MELINDA, a healthy, pigtailed girl of twelve, skips on) Hello, Howard. xa0 (HOWARD is disinterested, continues to search the ground.) xa0 HOWARD ’Lo, Lindy. xa0 MELINDA (Making conversation) I think it’s gonna be hotter’n yesterday. That rain last night didn’t do much good. xa0 HOWARD (Professionally) It brought up the worms. (Suddenly he spots one in the lawn. Swiftly he grabs for it, and holds it up proudly) Lookit this fat one! xa0 MELINDA (Shivering) How can you touch ’em? It makes me all goose-bumpy! (HOWARD dangles it in front of her face. She backs away, shuddering.) xa0 HOWARD What’re yuh skeered of? You was a worm once! xa0 MELINDA (Shocked) I wasn’t neither! xa0 HOWARD You was so! When the whole world was covered with water, there was nuthin’ but worms and blobs of jelly. And you and your whole family was worms! xa0 MELINDA We was not! xa0 HOWARD Blobs of jelly, then. xa0 MELINDA Howard Blair, that’s sinful talk! I’m gonna tell my pa and he’ll make you wash your mouth out with soap! xa0 HOWARD Ahhh, your old man’s a monkey! (MELINDA gasps. She turns indignantly and runs off.) xa0 HOWARD shrugs in the manner of a man-of-the-world) ’Bye, Lindy. (He deposits the worm in his tin can, and continues looking for more. RACHEL enters. She is twenty-two, pretty, but not beautiful. She wears a cotton summer dress. She carries a small composition-paper suitcase. There is a tense, distraught air about her. She may have been crying. She looks about nervously, as if she doesn’t want to be seen. When she sees HOWARD, she hesitates; then she crosses quickly downstage into the courthouse area in the hope that the boy will not notice her. But he does see RACHEL, and watches her with puzzled curiosity. Then he spots another worm, tugs it out of the ground, and holds it up, wriggling. ) xa0 (HOWARD addresses the worm) What do you wanta be when you grow up? xa0 (RACHEL stands uncertainly in the courthouse area. This is strange ground to her. Unsure, she looks about.) xa0 RACHEL (Tentatively, calling) Mr. Meeker…? xa0 (After a pause, a door at stage right opens. MR. MEEKER, the bailiff, enters. There is no collar on his shirt; his hair is tousled, and there is shaving soap on his face, which he is wiping off with a towel as he enters.) xa0 MEEKER (A little irritably) xa0 Who is it? (Surprised) Why, hello, Rachel. ’Scuse the way I look. (He wipes the soap out of his ear. Then he notices her suitcase) Not goin’ away, are you? Excitement’s just startin’. xa0 RACHEL (Earnestly) Mr. Meeker, don’t let my father know I came here. xa0 MEEKER (Shrugs) The Reverend don’t tell me his business. Don’t know why I should tell him mine. xa0 RACHEL I want to see Bert Cates. Is he all right? xa0 MEEKER Don’t know why he shouldn’t be. I always figured the safest place in the world is a jail. xa0 RACHEL Can I go down and see him? xa0 MEEKER Ain’t a very proper place for a minister’s daughter. xa0 RACHEL I only want to see him for a minute. xa0 MEEKER Sit down, Rachel. I’ll bring him up. You can talk to him right here in the courtroom. (RACHEL sits in one of the stiff wooden chairs. MEEKER starts out, then pauses) Long as I’ve been bailiff here, we’ve never had nothin’ but drunks, vagrants, couple of chicken thieves. (A little dreamily) Our best catch was that fella from Minnesota that chopped up his wife; we had to extradite him. (Shakes his head) Seems kinda queer havin’ a schoolteacher in our jail. (Shrugs) Might improve the writin’ on the walls. xa0 (MEEKER goes out. Nervously, RACHEL looks around at the cold, official furnishings of the courtroom. MEEKER returns to the courtroom, followed by BERT CATES. CATES is a pale, thin young man of twenty-four. He is quiet, shy, well-mannered, not particularly good-looking. RACHEL and CATES face each other expressionlessly, without speaking. MEEKER pauses in the doorway.) xa0 MEEKER I’ll leave you two alone to talk. Don’t run off, Bert. (MEEKER goes out. RACHEL and CATES look at each other.) xa0 RACHEL Hello, Bert. xa0 CATES Rache, I told you not to come here. xa0 RACHEL I couldn’t help it. Nobody saw me. Mr. Meeker won’t tell. (Troubled) I keep thinking of you, locked up here— xa0 CATES (Trying to cheer her up) You know something funny? The food’s better than the boarding house. And you’d better not tell anybody how cool it is down there, or we’ll have a crime wave every summer. xa0 RACHEL I stopped by your place and picked up some of your things. A clean shirt, your best tie, some handkerchiefs. xa0 CATES Thanks. xa0 RACHEL (Rushing to him) Bert, why don’t you tell ’em it was all a joke? Tell ’em you didn’t mean to break a law, and you won’t do it again! xa0 CATES I suppose everybody’s all steamed up about Brady coming. xa0 RACHEL He’s coming in on a special train out of Chattanooga. Pa’s going to the station to meet him. Everybody is! xa0 CATES Strike up the band. xa0 RACHEL Bert, it’s still not too late. Why can’t you admit you’re wrong? If the biggest man in the country—next to the President, maybe—if Matthew Harrison Brady comes here to tell the whole world how wrong you are— xa0 CATES You still think I did wrong? xa0 RACHEL Why did you do it? xa0 CATES You know why I did it. I had the book in my hand, Hunter’s Civic Biology. I opened it up, and read my sophomore science class Chapter 17, Darwin’s Origin of Species. (RACHEL starts to protest) All it says is that man wasn’t just stuck here like a geranium in a flower pot; that living comes from a long miracle, it didn’t just happen in seven days. xa0 RACHEL There’s a law against it. xa0 CATES I know that. xa0 RACHEL Everybody says what you did is bad. xa0 CATES It isn’t as simple as that. Good or bad, black or white, night or day. Do you know, at the top of the world the twilight is six months long? xa0 RACHEL But we don’t live at the top of the world. We live in Hillsboro, and when the sun goes down, it’s dark. And why do you try to make it different? (RACHEL gets the shirt, tie, and handkerchiefs from the suitcase) Here. xa0 CATES Thanks, Rache. xa0 RACHEL Why can’t you be on the right side of things? xa0 CATES Your father’s side. (RACHEL starts to leave. CATES runs after her) Rache—love me! xa0 (They embrace. MEEKER enters with a long-handled broom.) xa0 MEEKER (Clears his throat) I gotta sweep. xa0 (RACHEL breaks away and hurries off.) xa0 CATES (Calling) Thanks for the shirt! xa0 (MEEKER, who has been sweeping impassively now stops and leans on the broom.) xa0 MEEKER Imagine. Matthew Harrison Brady, comin’ here. I voted for him for President. Twice. In nineteen hundred, and again in oh-eight. Wasn’t old enough to vote for him the first time he ran. But my pa did. (Turns proudly to CATES) I seen him once. At a Chautauqua meeting in Chattanooga. (Impressed, remembering) The tent-poles shook! (CATES moves nervously) Who’s gonna be your lawyer, son? xa0 CATES I don’t know yet. I wrote to that newspaper in Baltimore. They’re sending somebody. xa0 MEEKER (Resumes sweeping) He better be loud. xa0 CATES (Picking up the shirt) xa0 You want me to go back down? xa0 MEEKER No need. You can stay up here if you want. xa0 CATES (Going toward the jail) I’m supposed to be in jail; I’d better be in jail! xa0 (MEEKER shrugs and follows CATES off. )