SCENE I
[Dark landscape. An old, roofless shed. Tom is discovered in shed, lying on some
old cotton bagging. Cassy kneels by his side, holding a cup to his lips.]
CASSY:
Drink all ye want. I knew how it would be. It isn’t the first time I’ve been
out in the night, carrying water to such as you.
TOM:
[(Returning cup.)]
Thank you, missis.
CASSY:
Don’t call me missis. I’m a miserable slave like yourself — a lower
one than you can ever be! It’s no use, my poor fellow, this you’ve been trying to
do. You were a brave fellow. You had the right on your side; but it’s all in vain
for you to struggle. You are in the Devil’s hands; he is the strongest, and you
must give up.
TOM:
Oh! how can I give up?
CASSY:
You see you don’t know anything about it; I do. Here you are, on a
lone plantation, ten miles from any other, in the swamps; not a white person
here who could testify, if you were burned alive. There’s no law here that can do
you, or any of us, the least good; and this man! there’s no earthly thing that he is
not bad enough to do. I could make one’s hair rise, and their teeth chatter, if I
should only tell what I’ve seen and been knowing to here; and it’s no use
resisting! Did I want to live with him? Wasn’t I a woman delicately bred? and
he! — Father in Heaven! what was he and is he? And yet I’ve lived with him
these five years, and cursed every moment of my life, night and day.
TOM:
Oh heaven! have you quite forgot us poor critters?
CASSY:
And what are these miserable low dogs you work with, that you
should suffer on their account? Every one of them would turn against you the
first time they get a chance. They are all of them as low and cruel to each other
as they can be; there’s no use in your suffering to keep from hurting them?
TOM:
What made ‘em cruel? If I give out I shall get used to it and grow,
little by little, just like ‘em. No, no, Missis, I’ve lost everything, wife, and
children, and home, and a kind master, and he would have set me free if he’d
only lived a day longer — I’ve lost everything in this world, and now I can’t lose
heaven, too: no I can’t get to be wicked besides all.
CASSY:
But it can’t be that He will lay sin to our account; he won’t charge
it to us when we are forced to it; he’ll charge it to them that drove us to it. Can I
do anything more for you? Shall I give you some more water?
TOM:
Oh missis! I wish you’d go to Him who can give you living waters!
CASSY:
Go to him! Where is he? Who is he?
TOM:
Our Heavenly Father!
CASSY:
I used to see the picture of him, over the altar, when I was a girl but
he isn’t here! there’s nothing here but sin, and long, long despair! There, there,
don’t talk any more, my poor fellow. Try to sleep, if you can. I must hasten
back, lest my absence be noted. Think of me when I am gone, Uncle Tom, and
pray, pray for me.
[(Music. Exit Cassy. Tom sinks back to sleep.)]