The Ending?

In the play, Eben and Abbie are taken away by the Sheriff. Here is the entire final scene:

Scene Four

About an hour later. Same as Scene Three. Shows the kitchen and CABOT’S bedroom. It is after dawn. The sky is brilliant with the sunrise. In the kitchen, ABBIE sits at the table, her body limp and exhausted, her head bowed down over her arms, her face hidden. Upstairs, CABOT is still asleep but awakens with a start. He looks toward the window and gives a snort of surprise and—irritation throws back the covers and begins hurriedly pulling on his clothes. Without looking behind him, he begins talking to ABBIE whom he supposes beside him.

CABOT Thunder’n’ lightnin’, Abbie! I hain’t slept this late in fifty year! Looks ’s if the sun was full riz a’most. Must’ve been the dancin’ an’ likker. Must be gittin’ old. I hope Eben’s t’wuk. Ye might’ve tuk the trouble t’ rouse me, Abbie. (He turns—sees no one there—surprised) Waal—whar air she? Gittin’ vittles, I calc’late. (He tiptoes to the cradle and peers down—proudly) Mornin’, sonny. Purty’s a picter! Sleepin’ sound. He don’t beller all night like most o’ ’em. (He goes quietly out the door in rear—few moments later enters kitchen—sees ABBIE—with satisfaction) So thar ye be. Ye got any vittles cooked?

ABBIE (without moving) No.

CABOT (coming to her, almost sympathetically) Ye feelin’ sick?

ABBIE No.

CABOT (pats her on shoulder. She shudders) Ye’d best lie down a spell. (Half jocularly) Yer son’ll be needin’ ye soon. He’d ought t’ wake up with a gnashin’ appetite, the sound way he’s sleepin’.

ABBIE (shudders—then in a dead voice) He ain’t never goin’ to wake up.

CABOT (jokingly) Takes after me this mornin’. I ain’t slept so late in. . . .

ABBIE He’s dead.

CABOT (stares at her—bewilderedly) What. . . .

ABBIE I killed him.

CABOT (stepping back from her—aghast) Air ye drunk—’r crazy—’r. . . !

ABBIE (suddenly lifts her head and turns on him—wildly) I killed him, I tell ye! I smothered him. Go up an’ see if ye don’t b’lieve me! (CABOT stares at her a second, then bolts out the rear door, can be heard bounding up the stairs, and rushes into the bedroom and over to the cradle. ABBIE has sunk back lifelessly into her former position. CABOT puts his hand down on the body in the crib. An expression of fear and horror comes over his face)

CABOT (shrinking away—tremblingly) God A’mighty! God A’mighty. (He stumbles out the door in a short while returns to the kitchen—comes to ABBIE, the stunned expression still on his face—hoarsely) Why did ye do it? Why? (As she doesn’t answer, he grabs her violently by the shoulder and shakes her) I ax ye why ye done it! Ye’d better tell me ’r. . . !

ABBIE (gives him a furious push which sends him staggering back and springs to her feet—with wild rage and hatred) Don’t ye dare tech me! What right hev ye t’ question me ’bout him? He wa’n’t yewr son! Think I’d have a son by yew? I’d die fust! I hate the sight o’ ye an’ allus did! It’s yew I should’ve murdered, if I’d had good sense! I hate ye! I love Eben. I did from the fust. An’ he was Eben’s son—mine an’ Eben’s—not your’n!

CABOT (stands looking at her dazedly—a pause—finding his words with an effort—dully) That was it—what I felt—pokin’ round the corners—while ye lied—holdin’ yer-self from me sayin’ ye’d a’ready conceived—(He lapses into crushed silence—then with a strange emotion) He’s dead, sart’n. I felt his heart. Pore little critter! (He blinks back one tear, wiping his sleeve across his nose)

ABBIE (hysterically) Don ’ ye! Don’t ye! (She sobs unrestrainedly)

CABOT (with concentrated effort that stiffens his body into a rigid line and hardens his face into a stony mask—through his teeth to himself) I got t’ be—like a stone—a rock o’ jedgment! (A pause. He gets complete control over himself—harshly) If he was Eben’s, I be glad he air gone! An’ mebbe I suspicioned it all along. I felt they was somethin’ onnateral—somewhars—the house got so lonesome—an’ cold—drivin’ me down t’ the barn—t’ the beasts o’ the field. . . . Ay-eh. I must’ve suspicioned somethin’. Ye didn’t fool me—not altogether, leastways—I’m too old a bird—growin’ ripe on the bough. . . . (He becomes aware he is wandering, straightens again, looks at ABBIE with a cruel grin) So ye’d like t’ hev murdered me ’stead o’ him, would ye? Waal, I’ll live to a hundred! I’ll live t’ see ye hung! I’ll deliver ye up t’ the jedgment o’ God an’ the law! I’ll git the Sheriff now. (Starts for the door)

ABBIE (dully) Ye needn’t. Eben’s gone fur him.

CABOT (amazed) Eben—gone for the Sheriff?

ABBIE Ay-eh.

CABOT T’ inform agen ye?

ABBIE Ay-eh.

CABOT (considers this—a pause—then in a hard voice) Waal, I’m thankful fur him savin’ me the trouble. I’ll git t’ wuk. (He goes to the door—then turns—in a voice full of strange emotion) He’d ought t’ been my son, Abbie. Ye’d ought t’ loved me. I’m a man. If ye’d loved me, I’d never told no Sheriff on ye no matter what ye did, if they was t’ brile me alive!

ABBIE (defensively) They’s more to it nor yew know, makes him tell.

CABOT (dryly) Fur yewr sake, I hope they be. (He goes out—comes around to the gate—stares up at the sky. His control relaxes. For a moment he is old and weary. He murmurs despairingly) God A’mighty, I be lonesomer’n ever! (He hears running footsteps from the left, immediately is himself again. EBEN runs in, panting exhaustedly, wild-eyed and mad looking. He lurches through the gate. CABOT grabs him by the shoulder. EBEN stares at him dumbly) Did ye tell the Sheriff?

EBEN (nodding stupidly) Ay-eh.

CABOT (gives him a push away that sends him sprawling—laughing with withering contempt) Good fur ye! A prime chip o’ yer Maw ye be! (He goes toward the barn, laughing harshly. EBEN scrambles to his feet. Suddenly CABOT turns grimly—threatening) Git off this farm when the Sheriff takes her—or, by God, he’ll have t’ come back an’ git me fur murder, too! (He stalks off. EBEN does not appear to have heard him. He runs to the door and comes into the kitchen. ABBIE looks up with a cry of anguished joy. EBEN stumbles over and throws himself on his knees beside her—sobbing brokenly)

EBEN Fergive me!

ABBIE (happily) Eben! (She kisses him and pulls his head over against her breast)

EBEN I love ye! Fergive me!

ABBIE (ecstatically) I’d fergive ye all the sins in hell fur sayin’ that! (She kisses his head, pressing it to her with a fierce passion of possession)

EBEN (brokenly) But I told the Sheriff. He’s comin’ fur ye!

ABBIE I kin b’ar what happens t’ me—now!

EBEN I woke him up. I told him. He says, wait ’til I git dressed. I was waiting. I got to thinkin’ o’ yew. I got to thinkin’ how I’d loved ye. It hurt like somethin’ was bustin’ in my chest an’ head. I got t’ cryin’. I knowed sudden I loved ye yet, an’ allus would love ye!

ABBIE (caressing his hair—tenderly) My boy, hain’t ye?

EBEN I begun t’ run back. I cut across the fields an’ through the woods. I thought ye might have time t’ run away—with me—an’. . .

ABBIE (shaking her head) I got t’ take my punishment—t’ pay fur my sin.

EBEN Then I want t’ share it with ye.

ABBIE Ye didn’t do nothin’.

EBEN I put it in yer head. I wisht he was dead! I as much as urged ye t’ do it!

ABBIE No. It was me alone!

EBEN I’m as guilty as yew be! He was the child o’ our sin.

ABBIE (lifting her head as if defying God) I don’t repent that sin! I hain’t askin’ God t’ fergive that!

EBEN Nor me—but it led up t’ the other—an’ the murder ye did, ye did ’count o’ me—an’ it’s my murder, too, I’ll tell the Sheriff—an’ if ye deny it, I’ll say we planned it t’gether—an’ they’ll all b’lieve me, fur they suspicion everythin’ we’ve done, an’ it’ll seem likely an’ true to ’em. An’ it is true—way down. I did help ye—somehow.

ABBIE (laying her head on his—sobbing) No! I don’t want yew t’ suffer!

EBEN I got t’ pay fur my part o’ the sin! An’ I’d suffer wuss leavin’ ye, goin’ West, thinkin’ o’ ye day an’ night, bein’ out when yew was in—(Lowering his voice)—’r bein’ alive when yew was dead. (A pause) I want t’ share with ye, Abbie—prison ’r death ’r hell ’r anythin’! (He looks into her eyes and forces a trembling smile) If I’m sharin’ with ye, I won’t feel lonesome, leastways.

ABBIE (weakly) Eben! I won’t let ye! I can’t let ye!

EBEN (kissing her—tenderly) Ye can’t he’p yerself. I got ye beat fur once!

ABBIE (forcing a smile—adoringly) I hain’t beat—s’long’s I got ye!

EBEN (hears the sound of feet outside) Ssshh! Listen! They’ve come t’ take us!

ABBIE No, it’s him. Don’t give him no chance to fight ye, Eben. Don’t say nothin’—no matter what he says. An’ I won’t neither. (It is CABOT. He comes up from the barn in a great state of excitement and strides into the house and then into the kitchen. EBEN is kneeling beside ABBIE, his arm around her, hers around him. They stare straight ahead)

CABOT (stares at them, his face hard. A long pause—vindictively) Ye make a slick pair o’ murderin’ turtle doves! Ye’d ought t’ be both hung on the same limb an’ left thar t’ swing in the breeze an’ rot—a warnin’ t’ old fools like me t’ b’ar their lonesomeness alone—an’ fur young fools like ye t’ hobble their lust. (A pause. The excitement returns to his face, his eyes snap, he looks a bit crazy) I couldn’t work today. I couldn’t take no interest. T’ hell with the farm! I’m leavin’ it! I’ve turned the cows an’ other stock loose! I’ve druv ’em into the woods whar they kin be free! By freein’ ’em, I’m freein’ myself! I’m quittin’ here today! I’ll set fire t’ house an’ barn an’ watch ’em burn, an’ I’ll leave yer Maw t’ haunt the ashes, an’ I’ll will the fields back t’ God, so that nothill’ human kin never touch ’em! I’ll be a-goin’ to Californi-a—t’ jine Simeon an’ Peter—true sons o’ mine if they be dumb fools—an’ the Cabots’ll find Solomon’s Mines t’gether! (He suddenly cuts a mad caper) Whoop! What was the song they sung? “Oh, Californi-a! That’s the land fur me.” (He sings this—then gets on his knees by the floorboard under which the money was hid) An’ I’ll sail thar on one o’ the finest clippers I kin find! I’ve got the money! Pity ye didn’t know whar this was hidden so’s ye could steal. . . (He has pulled up the board. He stares—feels—stares again. A pause of dead silence. He slowly turns, slumping into a sitting position on the floor, his eyes like those of a dead fish, his face the sickly green of an attack of nausea. He swallows painfully several times—forces a weak smile at last) So—ye did steal it!

EBEN (emotionlessly) I swapped it t’ Sim an’ Peter fur their share o’ the farm—t’ pay their passage t’ Californi-a.

CABOT (with one sardonic) Ha! (He begins to recover. Gets slowly to his feet strangely) I calc’late God give it to ’em—not yew! God’s hard, not easy! Mebbe they’s easy gold in the West but it hain’t God’s gold. It hain’t fur me. I kin hear His voice warnin’ me agen ’t be hard an’ stay on my farm. I kin see his hand usin’ Eben t’ steal t’ keep me from weakness. I kin feel I be in the palm o’ His hand, His fingers guiding me. (A pause—then he mutters sadly) It’s a-goin’ t’ be lonesomer now than ever it war afore—an’ I’m gittin’ old, Lord—ripe on the bough. . . . (Then stiffening) Waal—what d’ye want? God’s lonesome, hain’t He? God’s hard an’ lonesome! (A pause. The SHERIFF with two men comes up the road from the left. They move cautiously to the door. The SHERIFF knocks on it with the butt of his pistol)

SHERIFF Open in the name o’ the law! (They start)

CABOT They’ve come fur ye. (He goes to the rear door) Come in, Jim! (The three men enter. CABOT meets them in doorway) Jest a minit, Jim. I got ’em safe here. (The SHERIFF nods. He and his companions remain in the doorway)

EBEN (suddenly calls) I lied this mornin’, Jim. I helped her to do it. Ye kin take me, too.

ABBIE (brokenly) No!

CABOT Take ’em both. (He comes forward—stares at EBEN with a trace of grudging admiration) Purty good—fur yew! Waal, I got t’ round up the stock. Good-bye.

EBEN Good-bye.

ABBIE Good-bye. (CABOT turns and strides past the men—comes out and around the corner of the house, his shoulders squared, his face stony, and stalks grimly toward the barn. In the meantime the SHERIFF and men have come into the room)

SHERIFF (embarrassedly) Waal—we’d best start.

ABBIE Wait. (Turns to EBEN) I love ye, Eben.

EBEN I love ye, Abbie. (They kiss. The three men grin and shuffle embarrassedly. EBEN takes ABBIE’S hand. They go out the door in rear, the men following, and come from the house, walking hand in hand to the gate. EBEN stops there and points to the sunrise sky) Sun’s a-risin’. Purty, hain’t it?

ABBIE Ay-eh. (They both stand for a moment looking up raptly in attitudes strangely aloof and devout)

SHERIFF (looking around at the farm enviously to his companion) It’s a jim-dandy farm, no denyin’. Wished I owned it!