Выбрать главу

eight years ago or even had a friend who could or even just hear or

even just remember or just believe the worst or even just hope for it.

GOVERNOR

I think I remember. What has Temple Drake to tell me then?

TEMPLE

That's not first. The first thing is, how much will I have to tell? I

mean, how much of it that you don't already know, so that I wont be

wasting all of our times telling it over? It's two o'clock in the

morning; you want to-maybe even need to-sleep some, even if you are

our first paid servant; maybe even because of that- You see? I'm

already lying. What does it matter to me how much sleep the state's

first paid

REQUIEM FOR A NUN 243

servant loses, any more than it matters to the first paid servant, a part of

whose job is being paid to lose sleep over the Nancy Mannigoes and Temple

Drakes?

STEVENS

Not lying.

TEMPLE

All right. Stalling, then. So maybe if his excellency or his honor or

whatever they call him, will answer the question, we can get on.

STEVENS

Why not let the question go, and just get on?

GOVERNOR

(to Temple)

Ask me your question. How much of what do I al

ready know?

TEMPLE

(after a moment: she doesn't answer at first, staring at the Gov-

ernor: then:)

Uncle Gavin's right. Maybe you are the one to ask the questions. Only, make

it as painicss as possible. Because it's going to be a little . . . painful,

to put it euphoniously-at least 'euphonious' is right, isn't it?-no matter

who bragged about blindfolds.

GOVERNOR

Tell me about Nancy-Mannihoe, Mannikoe-how does she spell it?

TEMPLE

She doesn't. She cant. She cant read or write either. You are hanging her

under Mannigoe, which may be wrong too, though after tomorrow morning it

wont matter.

GOVERNOR

Ob yes, Manigault. The old Charleston name.

STEVENS

Older than that. Maingault. Nancy's heritage-or

anyway her patronym-runs Norman blood.

GOVERNOR

Why not start by telling me about her?

TEMPLE

You are so wise. She was a dope-fiend whore that my

244 WILLIAM FAULKNER

husband and I took out of the gutter to nurse our children. She murdered

one of them and is to be hung tomorrow morning. We-her lawyer and I-have

come to ask you to save her.

GOVERNOR

Yes. I know all that. Why?

TEMPLE

Why am 1, the mother whose child she murdered, asking you to save her?

Because I have forgiven her.

(the Governor watches her, he and Stevens both do, waiting. She stares

back at the Governor steadily, not defiant: just alert) Because she was

crazy.

(the Governor watches her: she stares back, puffing rapidly

at the cigarette)

All right. You dont mean why I am asking you to save her, but why 1-we

hired a whore and a tramp and a dopefiend to nurse our children.

(she puffs rapidly, talking

through the smoke)

To give her another chance-a human being too, even a nigger dopefiend

whore-

STEVENS

Nor that, either.

TEMPLE

(rapidly, with a sort of despair) Oh yes, not even stalling

now. Why cant you stop lying? You know: just stop for a

while or a time like you can stop playing tennis or running

or dancing or drinking or eating sweets during Lent. You

know: not to reform: just to quit for a while, clear your

system, rest up for a new tune or set or lie? All right. It

was to have someone to talk to. And now you see? I'll have

to tell the rest of it in order to tell you why I had to

have a dopefiend whore to talk to, why Temple Drake, the

white woman, the all-Mississippi debutante, descendant of

long lines of statesmen and soldiers high and proud in the

high proud annals of our sovereign state, couldn't find

anybody except a nigger dopefiend whore that could speak her

language-

REQUIEM FOR A NUN 245

GOVERNOR

Yes. This far, this late at night. Tell it.

TEMPLE

(she puffs rapidly at the cigarette, leans and crushes it

out in the ashtray and sits erect again. She speaks in a

hard rapid brittle emotionless voice)

Whore, dopefiend; hopeless, already damned before she was ever born,

whose only reason for living was to get the chance to die a murderess

on the gallows.Who not only entered the home of the socialite Gowan

Stevenses out of the gutter, but made her debut into the public life

of her native city while lying in the gutter with a white man trying

to kick her teeth or at least her voice back down her throat.You

remember, Gavin: what was his name? it was before my time in

Jefferson, but you remember: the cashier in the bank, the pillar of

the church or anyway in the name of his childless wife; and this Mon-

day morning and still drunk, Nancy comes up while he is unlocking the

front door of the bank and fifty people standing at his back to get

in, and Nancy comes into the crowd and right up to him and says,

'Where's my two dollars, white man?' and he turned and struck her,

knocked her across the pavement into the gutter and then ran after

her, stomping and kicking at her face or anyway her voice which was

still saying 'Where's my two dollars, white man?' until the crowd

caught and held him still kicking at the face lying in the gutter,

spitting blood and teeth and still saying, 'It was two dollars more

than two weeks ago and you done been back twice since'-

She stops speaking, presses both hands to her face for an instant, then

removes them.

TEMPLE

No, no handkerchief; Lawyer Stevens and I made a dry run on

handkerchiefs before we left home tonight. Where was I?

GOVERNOR

(quotes her) 'It was already two dollars'-

246 WILLIAM FAULKNER

TEMPLE

So now I've got to tell all of it. Because that was just Nancy Mannigoe.

Temple Drake was in more than just a two-dollar Saturday-night house. But

then, I said touch~, didn't I?

She leans forward and starts to take up the crushed cigarette from the

ashtray. Stevens picks up the pack from the desk and prepares to offer it to

her. She withdraws her hand from the crushed cigarette and sits back.

TEMPLE

(to the proffered cigarette in Stevens' hand) No, thanks; I wont need it,

after all. From here out, it's merely anticlimax. Coup de grace. The

victim never feels that, does he?-Where was I?

(quickly) Never mind. I said that before too, didn't I?

(she sits for a moment, her hands gripped in her lap, motionless) There