A Free Man of Color Read online

  A Free Man of Color

  Plays by John Guare

  Bosoms and Neglect

  Chaucer in Rome

  Cop-Out

  A Few Stout Individuals

  Four Baboons Adoring the Sun

  A Free Man of Color

  General of Hot Desire

  His Girl Friday (adaptation)

  Home Fires

  House of Blue Leaves

  Lake Hollywood

  Landscape of the Body

  Lydie Breeze:

  Part One: Women and Water

  Part Two: Bulfinch’s Mythology

  Part Three: The Sacredness of the Next Task

  Marco Polo Sings a Solo

  Moon Under Miami

  Muzeeka

  Rich and Famous

  Six Degrees of Separation

  JOHN GUARE

  A Free Man of Color

  Grove Press

  New York

  Copyright © 2011 by John Guare

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Scanning, uploading, and electronic distribution of this book or the facilitation of such without the permission of the publisher is prohibited. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. Any member of educational institutions wishing to photocopy part or all of the work for classroom use, or anthology, should send inquiries to Grove/Atlantic, Inc., 841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003 or to [email protected].

  CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that A Free Man of Color is subject to royalties. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, and all British Commonwealth countries, and all countries covered by the International Copyright Union, the Pan-American Copyright Convention, and the Universal Copyright Convention. All rights, including professional, amateur, motion picture, recitation, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.

  The stock and amateur live stage performance rights to A Free Man of Color are controlled exclusively by Dramatists Play Services, Inc. No professional or nonprofessional performance of the play may be given without obtaining in advance the written permission of Dramatists Play Services, Inc., 440 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10016, and paying the requisite fee, whether the play is presented for charity or gain and whether or not admission is charged.

  First-class professional applications for permission to perform it, and those other rights stated above, must be made in advance to International Creative Management, Attn: Patrick Herold, 730 5th Avenue, New York, NY 10019.

  Published simultaneously in Canada

  Printed in the United States of America

  FIRST EDITION

  ISBN-13: 9780802195005

  Grove Press

  an imprint of Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

  841 Broadway

  New York, NY 10003

  Distributed by Publishers Group West

  www.groveatlantic.com

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  For

  George C. Wolfe who put it into motion,

  André Bishop and Bernard Gersten who made it happen,

  and Adele C-T who gave it the spirit

  A Free Man of Color was commissioned and produced by the Lincoln Center Theater at the Vivian Beaumont, New York, New York, under the direction of André Bishop and Bernard Gersten. It opened in December 2010 with the following cast:

  JACQUES CORNETJeffrey Wright

  CUPIDON MURMUR AND TOUSSAINT LOUVERTUREMos

  ZEUS-MARIE PINCEPOUSSE AND TALLYRANDReg Rogers

  MARGERY JOLICOEURNicole Beharie

  DR. TOUBIBJoseph Marcell

  JUAN VENTURA MORALES AND NAPOLEON BONAPARTETriney Sandoval

  DOÑA SMERALDA AND JOSEPHINEJustina Machado

  ORPHEEEsau Pritchett

  LEDA, MME. DORILANTE, AND MELPOMENETeyonah Parris

  DOÑA ATHENE AND CALLIOPESara Gettelfinger

  REMY DORILANTE AND JAMES MONROEArnie Burton

  JONATHAN SPARKS AND MAJOR WALTER REEDBrian Reddy

  MRS. SPARKS, TERPSICHORE, AND THE INFANTARosal Colón

  LORD HARCOURT, LE CLERC’S CAPTAIN, AND GEORGES FEYDEAURobert Stanton

  LADY HARCOURT AND EUTERPEWendy Rich Stetson

  ALCIBIADEDavid Emerson Toney

  PYTHAGORE, GENERAL LE CLERC AND KING CARLOS CUARTONick Mennell

  MERCURE AND COUNT ACHILLE CREUXPeter Bartlett

  MME. MANDRAGOLA, DOÑA POLISSENA, AND ROBERT LIVINGSTONVeanne Cox

  THOMAS JEFFERSONJohn McMartin

  MERIWETHER LEWISPaul Dano

  DirectorGeorge C. Wolfe

  SetsDavid Rockwell

  CostumesAnn Hould-Ward

  LightingJules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer

  SoundScott Stauffer

  Original MusicJeanine Tesori

  ChoreographyHope Clarke

  The play is set in New Orleans, 1801–1806, and other locations in Europe and America.

  In the New World at this time, there was a vocabulary of more than a hundred terms for people of mixed race, extending back seven generations in an individual’s heritage. For example: “pure” white and “pure” black = mulatto; mulatto and black = sambo; mulatto and white = quadroon; a mamelouc was “113 of 120 parts white,” etc.

  ACT ONE

  JACQUES CORNET appears, a dazzling piece of work. His coat is made of purple satin and embroidered and laced with gold. His shoes have diamond buckles. His bewigged hair, powdered. His magnificence is overwhelming. MURMUR accompanies him.

  JACQUESThe year is 1801. Alas. This is the last time men will dress like this.

  All men equal? Clothes tell the ranks.

  I have taste. For that I give my daily thanks.

  If a book can’t be told by its cover, what good’s the book?

  The world would be better if it followed my lead.

  If I’m a book, I’m a damned good read.

  Murmur, introduce me—

  MURMURHis name used to be—

  JACQUES CORNET (cutting him off)My name is Jacques Cornet. New Orleans is my home.

  MURMURI’m Cupidon Murmur, his administrative assistant.

  JACQUES CORNETLast time I looked, you were my slave.

  MURMURWhich is why I stopped looking. Didn’t you used to be a slave?

  JACQUES CORNETDon’t be fresh, Murmur. Even though born of a slave, I purchased my freedom and became my father’s heir.

  MURMUR‘My father’s heir.’ A very rich, very white father, left my boss everything. Including me. I do all the work. He does nothing.

  JACQUES CORNETI beg your pardon. Each morning I can be found in my atelier, writing my play.

  MURMURWhere’d you get the nerve to write a play?

  JACQUES CORNETBrocade gave me confidence.

  MURMURDoes your masterpiece have a title?

  JACQUES CORNETA Free Man of Color.

  MURMURWhat would it be about?

  JACQUES CORNETThe sanctity of surfaces. The value of veneer.

  Lift the curtain. We begin.

  Lift the curtain. Is being deaf your latest claim?

  MURMURI thought you’d like to know some crates just came.

  JACQUES CORNETCrates? Get them! You slow beast! Freedom’s not for you.

&
nbsp; MURMURWhat happened to the show must go on? Murmur rolls in wooden crates.

  JACQUES CORNETA shipment has arrived! Persia! Asia Minor!

  My only prayer some evil moth

  hasn’t gnawed his way through sacred cloth.

  Open, Murmur!

  MURMUR (opening crates)I’m hurrying! I’m hurrying!

  JACQUES CORNETLook—grosgrain for trimming!

  Bolts of cloth never come with regret.

  Ahh! To be tickled by the feather of an egret.

  What genius hands in Samarkand wove this silk, encasing my legs like a glove in milk.

  The legs are so important. Revere their line, especially with a golden calf as shapely as mine.

  Poor innocent silks—suppose you were lost!

  How many years did your treacherous voyage cost?

  MURMURHere’s a date! They left Shanghai in 1798!

  JACQUES CORNETThree years for silk to travel? I could have frozen to death. Bring out my maps! Unveil my maps!

  Which Murmur does. The maps glow.

  MURMURHe collects these maps—

  JACQUES CORNETMurmur, know your place. I collect these maps. One of them must reveal the magic route to deliver me the treasures that I need like bread and water. The future is always about speed. That’s the true subject of my play. An inland river must cross this vast unknown land. A river from the isle of California that somehow meets the Mississippi— but where? It has to be there. The stakes are too high. (Jacques starts to undress.)

  The iridescence of this pink moiré

  will dazzle the fools who flock to my soirée.

  Murmur, undo this cuff. Murmur, remove this shoe.

  Take these crates to my chamber. Faster! Faster!

  MURMURYes, master master.

  (to us)

  I’m taking up a collection to buy my freedom. Spare change?

  JACQUES CORNETMurmur! Open the curtain or I’ll damn you to perdition.

  MURMURDon’t the dumbest plays need exposition?

  JACQUES CORNETMy play speaks for itself.

  MURMURI’ll tell them what they need to know.

  JACQUES CORNETI wouldn’t trust you as far as a rat might speed.

  Dr. Toubib? Tell them what truths they need.

  Jacques Cornet goes, trailing clothes, which Murmur picks up.

  DR. TOUBIB enters, of African descent, a man of reason.

  MURMURThis is Dr. Toubib. He ministers to the health of the town. One day I’ll write a play. Act One, Scene One.

  Murmur lifts the curtain and wheels off the crates.

  Music plays: Haydn trio in G major 3rd movement.

  REMY DORILANTE, JONATHAN SPARKS, LORD SIDNEY HARCOURT, and ACHILLE ALCIBIADE, and MME.MANDRAGOLA play Faro, a card game.

  DR. TThe home of Jacques Cornet on the Rue de la Levée in New Orleans. Every Tuesday, he opens his home to men who come selling maps that might unmask the unmapped continent and get his clothes here quicker.

  Murmur deals cards at the faro table.

  DORILANTEI mase double.

  MME MANDRAGOLAI set that.

  SPARKSMase double again!

  MME MANDRAGOLAI set that and I win.

  DR. TNo one comes to the new world because they want to. This one’s been deported, this one disinherited, this one escaped the police. They spy, steal, smuggle, sometimes even work honestly, until the day their fortune will surely appear. They come to the house of Jacques Cornet to gamble what little they have. Double it. Triple it.

  MURMUROr lose it to Jacques Cornet. The cards are fixed. My boss leaves nothing to chance.

  DR. TToday is Tuesday, February 24th—the feast of Mardi Gras. The few social barriers that exist in New Orleans are down tonight—white—black—everything in between—

  MURMUR—and there’s a lot of in between.

  DR. TTake off your twenty-first century glasses. See New Orleans as we who live here see it in 1801. The free-est city in the world. Imagine the unimaginable. Race is a celebration! See the lush palette of skin tones in New Orleans.

  DORILANTERemy Dorilante. I am a shade called Meamelouc—white and metif.

  SPARKSJonathan Sparks! I’m Quarteron—white and meamelouc.

  HARCOURTLord Sidney Harcourt. I send furs from Quebec down the Mississippi to New Orleans and out to the world. I’m truly white, which gives me no privilege. Here it’s just another color.

  ALCIBIADE (heavy Norwegian accent)Achille Alcibiade from Norway. I have come to New Orleans to start a new life as a dealer in furniture. I am white.

  MURMURHow come you look like a mahogany table?

  ALCIBIADEAll right—not Norway. Barbados. (back to the accent) But in New Orleans you can be whatever you declare yourself to be.

  JUAN VENTURA MORALES bangs on the bedroom door. He’s quite chubby, dressed in some sort of gold armor.

  MORALESI command you to open this door for Juan Ventura Morales, appointed by His Royal Majesty Carlos Cuarto, King of Spain, as the Supreme Intendante of New Orleans.

  MURMURTax collector.

  MORALESI am Castilian! Pure blood!

  MURMURHis maternal grandmother had a touch of the brush.

  MORALESAmong other divinely ordained powers by the kingdom of Spain, I control travel on the Mississippi.

  DR. TThe Mississippi being North America’s link to the world.

  MME. MANDRAGOLA (to us)I am Mme Mandragola. From Buenos Aires. Like Joseph in the Bible, I am a coat of many colors. I supply New Orleans with the comfort of the most luscious kaleidoscope of flesh.

  From behind the bedroom door we hear:

  GIRLS (off)Ohh! Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhhh! Jacques, Jacques, Jacques!

  MORALESWhy do you let Jacques Cornet hoard your girls?

  MME. MANDRAGOLAHe has more money than any of you. Are you going to the Mardi Gras ball tonight?

  MORALESI already have on my costume.

  MME. MANDRAGOLAAre you Sancho Panza?

  MORALESI am El Cid! The greatest hero Spain has ever known! And I am a direct descendant! (knocking on Jacques’s door) Have some consideration. I can’t keep my wife waiting.

  The door to the bedroom opens. Mme. Mandragolas girls appear, en dishabille. TERPSICHORE (Terp-sikor), CALLIOPE (Kal-ee-Ope) EUTERPE (You terp) MELPOMENE (mel-pom-eeen). They run to the table and eat hungrily.

  MORALESFinally! Murmur, find me a chambre d’amour. Presto!

  EUTERPENo! This is just a break to catch my breath. I am Euterpe—

  CALLIOPECalliope—

  TERPSICHORETerpsichore—

  MELPOMENEMelpomene—

  MME. MANDRAGOLA (to us)We locals name ourselves after Greek gods and demi-gods and muses but give it a French twist.

  MORALES (to Terpsichore)I have decided to honor you with my body.

  TERPSICHORESorry! I’ve just experienced the greatest happiness of my life and don’t want to ruin it.

  MORALESCommon whores refuse the Supreme Intendante of New Orleans?

  TERPSICHOREPut me in jail. Jacques Cornet has a key that unlocks the world. Dr. T, what’s the Latin word for key?

  DR. TClavis!

  TERPSICHOREI am the portal. Jacques Cornet is the clavis.

  CALLIOPEImagine the arm of a needy five year old reaching out to you, holding a bright red juicy apple—

  MELPOMENE—the neck of a flamingo flying home—and you’re the nest.

  EUTERPE—the trunk of a mandingo tree that goes up, up, up and at the top, there’s a gorgeous red blossom flowering.

  They sigh.

  MORALESI could show you a thing or two.

  THE WHORESYou have!

  MORALESLike the present size of the United States, I’m perfectly happy with what I’ve got. (beats on Jacques’ door) Cornet, you will pay for your disrespect!

  ZEUS-MARIE PINCEPOUSSE appears, ignored by all.

  PINCEPOUSSE (to us)I am Zeus-Marie Pincepousse.

  MURMURWho the hell invited you?

  PINCEPOUSSE (pushing Murmur aside)I am extremely white and my blood extreme
ly blue. I hate being in this house, which is rightfully mine.

  MURMURHe is half-brother to Jacques Cornet. They share the same white father.

  PINCEPOUSSEBut my mother was a Duchesse. His mother a mere possession. I am also the plot. I’ll be back.

  Pincepousse goes. Murmur fills everyone’s wine glass.

  HARCOURTMurmur, I heard news of a rebellion upriver on your master’s sugar farm.

  MURMURYes, we caught wind of that rumor. Peace was restored.

  SPARKSHow did you deal with it?

  MURMURI shot the instigator.

  DORILANTEYou shot a slave?

  MURMURNot my first.

  HARCOURTBut you’re a slave.

  MURMURWhat does that have to do with it?

  DORILANTESuppose you ran away?

  MURMURBut I wouldn’t.

  HARCOURTDo you want to be free?

  MURMURYou bet.

  SPARKSAnd what would you do if you could be free?

  MURMURWork for Jacques Cornet.

  Jacques appears in the doorway of his bedroom in a silken robe. He tosses gold to Mme. Mandragola.

  JACQUES CORNETLadies! Round Two!

  SPARKSJacques, see the treasures I’ve brought!

  DORILANTEI’ve painted your portrait! Jacques!

  HARCOURTJacques! See my map!

  Jacques shuts the door. PYTHAGORE, wearing a black mask, a bone in his nose, leaps at Morales.

  PYTHAGOREI am Toussaint Louverture and I want freedom!

  MORALES (screams)Take everything I have! Don’t hurt me!

  PYTHAGORE (unmasking himself)It’s Pythagore. I thought my Mardi Gras costume amusing.

  SPARKSYou wouldn’t joke if you’d just returned from (whispers) Santo Domingo.

  MORALESNot so loud—The very mention of that bloody island will cause chaos here in New Orleans. We must keep the news from the slaves. I’d suggest you find a less provocative costume for tonight.

  DR. TSante Domingue. The richest island in the Caribbean and soon to be named Haiti. Toussaint Louverture, after a long bloody battle, has finally taken control of the island from the French planters and is declared governor-general for life of this new sovereign nation.

  TOUSSAINT LOUVERTURE appears.

  TOUSSAINTBehold this land, which we have watered with our blood. We, humble victims, were ready for anything, not wishing at first to abandon our master who gave us freedom. We were mistaken; those who, next to God, should have proved our fathers, had become tyrants, monsters, unworthy of the fruits of our labors. God, who fights for the innocent, is our guide; he will never abandon us. Accordingly this is our motto—victory or death for freedom!