Plays. Susan Glaspell

PETERS: (starts to speak, glances up, where footsteps are heard in the room above. In a low voice) Mr. Peters says it looks bad for her. Mr. Henderson is awful sarcastic in a speech and he'll make fun of her sayin' she didn't wake up.

      MRS HALE: Well, I guess John Wright didn't wake when they was slipping that rope under his neck.

      MRS PETERS: No, it's strange. It must have been done awful crafty and still. They say it was such a—funny way to kill a man, rigging it all up like that.

      MRS HALE: That's just what Mr. Hale said. There was a gun in the house. He says that's what he can't understand.

      MRS PETERS: Mr. Henderson said coming out that what was needed for the case was a motive; something to show anger, or—sudden feeling.

      MRS HALE: (who is standing by the table) Well, I don't see any signs of anger around here, (she puts her hand on the dish towel which lies on the table, stands looking down at table, one half of which is clean, the other half messy) It's wiped to here, (makes a move as if to finish work, then turns and looks at loaf of bread outside the breadbox. Drops towel. In that voice of coming back to familiar things.) Wonder how they are finding things upstairs. I hope she had it a little more red-up up there. You know, it seems kind of sneaking. Locking her up in town and then coming out here and trying to get her own house to turn against her!

      MRS PETERS: But Mrs. Hale, the law is the law.

      MRS HALE: I s'pose 'tis, (unbuttoning her coat) Better loosen up your things, Mrs. Peters. You won't feel them when you go out.

      (MRS PETERS takes off her fur tippet, goes to hang it on hook at back of room, stands looking at the under part of the small corner table.)

      MRS PETERS: She was piecing a quilt. (She brings the large sewing basket and they look at the bright pieces.)

      MRS HALE: It's log cabin pattern. Pretty, isn't it? I wonder if she was goin' to quilt it or just knot it?

      (Footsteps have been heard coming down the stairs. The SHERIFF enters followed by HALE and the COUNTY ATTORNEY.)

      SHERIFF: They wonder if she was going to quilt it or just knot it! (The men laugh, the women look abashed.)

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: (rubbing his hands over the stove) Frank's fire didn't do much up there, did it? Well, let's go out to the barn and get that cleared up. (The men go outside.)

      MRS HALE: (resentfully) I don't know as there's anything so strange, our takin' up our time with little things while we're waiting for them to get the evidence. (she sits down at the big table smoothing out a block with decision) I don't see as it's anything to laugh about.

      MRS PETERS: (apologetically) Of course they've got awful important things on their minds.

      (Pulls up a chair and joins MRS HALE at the table.)

      MRS HALE: (examining another block) Mrs. Peters, look at this one. Here, this is the one she was working on, and look at the sewing! All the rest of it has been so nice and even. And look at this! It's all over the place! Why, it looks as if she didn't know what she was about!

      (After she has said this they look at each other, then start to glance back at the door. After an instant MRS HALE has pulled at a knot and ripped the sewing.)

      MRS PETERS: Oh, what are you doing, Mrs. Hale?

      MRS HALE: (mildly) Just pulling out a stitch or two that's not sewed very good. (threading a needle) Bad sewing always made me fidgety.

      MRS PETERS: (nervously) I don't think we ought to touch things.

      MRS HALE: I'll just finish up this end. (suddenly stopping and leaning forward) Mrs. Peters?

      MRS PETERS: Yes, Mrs. Hale?

      MRS HALE: What do you suppose she was so nervous about?

      MRS PETERS: Oh—I don't know. I don't know as she was nervous. I sometimes sew awful queer when I'm just tired. (MRS HALE starts to say something, looks at MRS PETERS, then goes on sewing) Well I must get these things wrapped up. They may be through sooner than we think, (putting apron and other things together) I wonder where I can find a piece of paper, and string.

      MRS HALE: In that cupboard, maybe.

      MRS PETERS: (looking in cupboard) Why, here's a bird-cage, (holds it up) Did she have a bird, Mrs. Hale?

      MRS HALE: Why, I don't know whether she did or not—I've not been here for so long. There was a man around last year selling canaries cheap, but I don't know as she took one; maybe she did. She used to sing real pretty herself.

      MRS PETERS: (glancing around) Seems funny to think of a bird here. But she must have had one, or why would she have a cage? I wonder what happened to it.

      MRS HALE: I s'pose maybe the cat got it.

      MRS PETERS: No, she didn't have a cat. She's got that feeling some people have about cats—being afraid of them. My cat got in her room and she was real upset and asked me to take it out.

      MRS HALE: My sister Bessie was like that. Queer, ain't it?

      MRS PETERS: (examining the cage) Why, look at this door. It's broke. One hinge is pulled apart.

      MRS HALE: (looking too) Looks as if someone must have been rough with it.

      MRS PETERS: Why, yes.

      (She brings the cage forward and puts it on the table.)

      MRS HALE: I wish if they're going to find any evidence they'd be about it. I don't like this place.

      MRS PETERS: But I'm awful glad you came with me, Mrs. Hale. It would be lonesome for me sitting here alone.

      MRS HALE: It would, wouldn't it? (dropping her sewing) But I tell you what I do wish, Mrs. Peters. I wish I had come over sometimes when she was here. I—(looking around the room)—wish I had.

      MRS PETERS: But of course you were awful busy, Mrs. Hale—your house and your children.

      MRS HALE: I could've come. I stayed away because it weren't cheerful—and that's why I ought to have come. I—I've never liked this place. Maybe because it's down in a hollow and you don't see the road. I dunno what it is, but it's a lonesome place and always was. I wish I had come over to see Minnie Foster sometimes. I can see now—(shakes her head)

      MRS PETERS: Well, you mustn't reproach yourself, Mrs. Hale. Somehow we just don't see how it is with other folks until—something comes up.

      MRS HALE: Not having children makes less work—but it makes a quiet house, and Wright out to work all day, and no company when he did come in. Did you know John Wright, Mrs. Peters?

      MRS PETERS: Not to know him; I've seen him in town. They say he was a good man.

      MRS HALE: Yes—good; he didn't drink, and kept his word as well as most, I guess, and paid his debts. But he was a hard man, Mrs. Peters. Just to pass the time of day with him—(shivers) Like a raw wind that gets to the bone, (pauses, her eye falling on the cage) I should think she would 'a wanted a bird. But what do you suppose went with it?

      MRS PETERS: I don't know, unless it got sick and died.

      (She reaches over and swings the broken door, swings it again, both women watch it.)

      MRS HALE: You weren't raised round here, were you? (MRS PETERS shakes her head) You didn't know—her?

      MRS PETERS: Not till they brought her yesterday.

      MRS HALE: She—come to think of it, she was kind of like a bird herself—real sweet and pretty, but kind of timid and—fluttery. How—she—did—change. (silence; then as if struck by a happy thought and relieved to get back to everyday things) Tell you what, Mrs. Peters, why