The mule-bone : $b a comedy of Negro life in three actsHurston, Zora Neale
General
The mule-bone : $b a comedy of Negro life in three acts
Hurston, Zora Neale
African Americans -- Drama
DAISY.
But I though you was playin’for me now, Jim.
JIM.
Yeah, I’d play all night long for you, but I’m gettin’sick of Dave
round here showin’off. Let him git somethin’and play for himself if he
can. (An OLD MAN with a lighted lantern enters.)
DAISY.
(Coyly) Well, honey, play some more for me, then, and don’t mind Dave.
I reckon he done danced enough. Play me “Shake That Thing”.
OLD MAN WITH LANTERN.
Sho, you ain’t stopped, is you, boy? Music sound mighty good
floatin’down that dark road.
OLD WOMAN.
Yeah, Jim, go on play a little more. Don’t get to acting so niggerish
this evening.
DAVE.
Aw, let the ol’ darky alone. Nobody don’t want to hear him play, nohow.
I know I don’t.
JIM.
Well, I’m gonna play. (And he begins to pick “Shake That Thing”. TEETS
and BOOTSIE begin to dance with LIGE MOSELY and FRANK WARRICK. As the
tune gets good, DAVE cannot resist the music either.)
DAVE.
Old nigger’s eveil but he sho can play. (He begins to do a few steps by
himself, then twirls around in front of DAISY and approaches her.
DAISY, overcome by the music, begins to step rhythmically toward DAVE
and together they dance unobserved by JIM, absorbed in picking his
guitar.)
DAISY.
Look here, baby, at this new step I learned up North.
DAVE.
You can show me anything, sugar lump.
DAISY.
Hold me tight now. (But just as they begin the new movement JIM notices
DAISY and DAVE. He stops playing again and lays his guitar down.)
VOICES IN THE CROWD.
(Disgustedly) Aw, come on, Jim…. You must be jealous….
JIM.
No, I ain’t jealous. I jus’ get tired of seein’that ol’ nigger
clownin’all the time.
DAVE.
(Laughing and pointing to JIM on porch) Look at that mad baby. Take
that lip up off the ground. Got your mouth stuck out jus’ because some
one is enjoying themselves. (He comes up and pushes JIM playfully.)
JIM.
You better go head and let me alone. (TO DAISY) Come here, Daisy!
LIGE.
That’s just what I say. Niggers can’t have no fun without someone
getting mad … specially over a woman.
JIM.
I ain’t mad…. Daisy, ’scuse me, honey, but that fool, Dave….
DAVE.
I ain’t mad neither…. Jim always tryin’to throw off on me. But you
can’t joke him.
DAISY.
(Soothingly) Aw, now, now!
JIM.
You ain’t jokin’. You means that, nigger. And if you tryin’to get hot,
first thing, you can pull of my blue shirt you put on this morning.
DAVE.
Youse a got that wrong. I ain’t got on no shirt of yours.
JIM.
Yes, you is got on my shirt, too. Don’t tell me you ain’t got on my
shirt.
DAVE.
Well, even if I is, you can just lift your big plantations out of my
shoes. You can just foot it home barefooted.
JIM.
You try to take any shoes offa me!
LIGE.
(Pacifying them) Aw, there ain’t no use of all that. What you all want
to start this quarreling for over a little jokin’.
JIM.
Nobody’s quarreling…. I’m just playin’a little for Daisy and Dave’s out
there clownin’with her.
CLARK.
(In doorway) I ain’t gonna have no fussin’round my store, no way. Shut
up, you all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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