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TEMPLE

Which nobody will dispute. You threatened me with my children, and

even with my husband-if you can call my husband a threat. You even

stole my elopement money. Oh yes, nobody will dispute that you tried,

Though at least you brought the money back. Pick it up.

NANCY You said you dont need it.

TEMPLE I dont. Pick it up.

NANCY No more do I need it.

TEMPLE

Pick it up, anyway. You can keep your next week's pay out of it when

you give it back to Mr Gowan.

Nancy stoops and gathers up the money, and gathers the jewelry back into

its box, and puts them on the table.

(quieter)

REQUIEM FOR A NUN 283

Nancy.

(Nancy looks at her)

I'm sorry. Why do you force me to this-hitting and screaming at you, when

you have always been so good to my children and me-my husband too-all of

us-trying to hold us together in a household, a family, that anybody

should have known all the time couldn't possibly hold together? even in

decency, let alone happiness?

NANCY

I reckon I'm ignorant. I dont know that yet. Besides, I aint talking about

any household or happiness neither-

TEMPLE

(with sharp command) Nancyl

NANCY

-I'm talking about two little children-

TEMPLE

I said, hush.

NANCY

I cant hush. I'm going to ask you one more time. Are you going to do it?

TEMPLE

Yes!

NANCY

Maybe I am ignorant. You got to say it out in words yourself, so I can

hear them. Say, I'm going to do it.

TEMPLE

You heard me. I'm going to do it.

NANCY

Money or no money.

TEMPLE

Money or no money.

NANCY

Children or no children.

(Temple doesn't answer)

To leave one with a man that's willing to believe the child aint got no

father, willing to take the other one to a man that dont even want no

children-

(They stare at one another) If you can do it, you can say

it.

284 WILLIAM FAULKNER

TEMPLE

Yes! Children or no children! Now get out of here.

Take your part of that money, and get out. Here-

Temple goes quickly to the table, removes two or three bills from the mass

of banknotes, and hands them to Nancy, who takes them. Temple takes up the

rest of the money, takes up her bag from the table and opens it. Nancy

crosses quietly toward the nursery, picking up the milk bottle from the

table as she passes, and goes on. With the open bag in one hand and the

money in the other, Temple notices Nancy's movement.

What are you doing?

NANCY

(still moving)

This bottle has got cold. I'm going to warm it in the bathroom.

Then Nancy stops and looks back at Temple, with something so strange in

her look that Temple, about to resume putting the money into the bag,

pauses too, watching Nancy. When Nancy speaks, it is like the former

speech: we dont realise until afterward what it signifies.

I tried everything I knowed. You can see that.

TEMPLE

(peremptory, commanding)

Nancy.

NANCY

(quietly, turning on)

I've hushed.

She exits through the door into the nursery. Temple finishes putting the

money into the bag, and closes it and puts it back on the table. Then she

turns to the baby's bag. She tidies it, checks rapidly over its contents,

takes up the jewel box and stows it in the box and closes the bag. All

this takes about two minutes; she has just closed the bag when Nancy

emerges quietly from the nursery, without the milk bottle, and crosses,

pausing at the table only long enough to put back on it the money Temple

gave her, then starts on toward the opposite door through which she first

entered the room.

TEMPLE

Now what?

Nancy goes on toward the other door. Temple watches her.

Nancy.

(Nancy pauses, still not looking

back)

REQUIEM FOR A NUN 285

Dont think too hard of me.

(Nancy waits, immobile, looking at nothing. When Temple

doesn't continue, she moves again toward the door)

If I-it ever comes up, I'll tell everybody you did

your best. You tried. But you were right. It wasn't

even the letters. It was me.

(Nancy moves on)

Good-bye, Nancy.

(Nancy reaches the door)

You've got your key. I'll leave your money here on

the table. You can get it

(Nancy exits)

Nancyl

There is no answer. Temple looks a moment longer at the empty door, shrugs,

moves, takes up the money Nancy left, glances about, crosses to the littered

desk and takes up a paperweight and returns to the table and puts the money

beneath the weight; now moving rapidly and with determination, she takes up

the blanket from the table and crosses to the nursery door and exits through

it. A second or two, then she screams. The lights flicker and begin to dim,

fade swiftly into complete darkness, over the scream.

The stage is in complete darkness.

Scene Three

Same as Scene 1. Governor's Office. 3:09 A.M. March twelfth.

The lights go on upper left. The scene is the same as before, Scene 1,

except that Gowan Stevens now sits in the chair behind the desk where the

Governor had been sitting and the Governor is no longer in the room. Temple

now kneels before the desk, facing it, her arms on the desk and her face

buried in her arms. Stevens now stands beside and over her. The hands of the

clock show nine minutes past three.

Temple does not know that the Governor has gone and that her husband is now

in the room.

TEMPLE

(her face still hidden)

And that's all. The police came, and the murderess

still sitting in a chair in the kitchen in the dark, saying

286 WILLIAM FAULKNER

'Yes, Lord, I done it,' and then in the cell at the jail still saying

it-

(Stevens leans and touches her arm, as if to help her up. She

resists, though still not raising her head)

Not yet. It's my cue to stay down here until his honor or excellency

grants our plea, isn't it? Or have I already missed my cue forever even

if the sovereign state should offer me a handkerchief right out of its

own elected public suffrage dressing-gown pocket? Because see?

(she raises her face, quite blindly, tearless, still not

looking toward the chair where she could see Gowan instead

of the Governor, into the full glare of the light)

Still no tears.

STEVENS

Get up, Temple.

(he starts to lift her again, but before he can do so, she

rises herself, standing, her face still turned away from the

desk, still blind; she puts her arm up almost in the gesture

of a little girl about to cry, but instead she merely shields