"101faa9126589e7e32b9a3388448579c2084e90eb9bc918d7656579087ef20477"

"To make my fortune, of course. I gave in to tales of wealth and prosperity that were the lore of the southern states: all that's needed being a patch of land and a few good growing seasons. Cotton, or tobacco. And then locating a proper bank to store your riches. But such profitable outcomes are reserved for the plantation masters. It's the lot of the rest of us to serve. So I settled to be an overseer, and failed as well at that. In the meantime my dreams gave way to reality. Now, I want nothing more than to earn a decent wage. And get myself home.\nArmsby takes another drink and leans back.\nARMSBY\nOh, to be a nigger. Not a concern in the world and every need taken care off. Consider yourself fortunate, Platt. It's the plight of the white to worry.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACKS - MORNING\nWe again hear the sound of the HORN BLOWING signaling the start of the work day for the slave.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - DAY\nWith the sun yet again high in the sky the slaves are working the field picking cotton. As before they sing a spiritual, the only thing that distracts them from the tedium at hand.\nBut there is no distracting from the heat. We see Uncle Abram begin to falter and finally drop down to the ground.\nTreach calls to Edward:\nTREACH\nGet him water.\nEdward runs to fetch water which he carries to Abram and DUMPS ON HIM BUT ABRAM DOES NOT RISE. DOES NOT MOVE.\nAt this point, the sounds of the singing from the others tapers off as they realize Abram isn't getting up.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - LATER\nWe are beyond the main of the plantation, the cotton field in the background. Solomon, Bob and Wiley are digging a grave in the dirt. The uncovered body of Abram lays near. Having dug down an appropriate distance, the three men take the body and, very unceremoniously, place it into the ground. That done, they begin to cover it with dirt. It is all the more of a funeral that Abram will receive.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GIN HOUSE - EVENING\nAs always, the day's pickings are again being weighed.\nTREACH\nOne hundred sixty pounds for Wiley.\nClearly displeased, Epps pulls Wiley from the line.\nEPPS\nPlatt?\nTREACH\nEighty eight pounds for Platt.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - DAY\nEpps moves to Solomon. As way of explanation but with defiance:\nSOLOMON\nWe buried Abram today --\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GIN HOUSE - LATER\nWE MAKE A QUICK CUT TO THE OUTSIDE OF THE GIN HOUSE. The reason for their low totals obviously doesn't matter as Solomon, Bob and Wiley receive a lashing for their lack of productivity.\nAs the last lash falls on his back, Epps moves directly to Solomon.\nEPPS\nYou are a disgrace. Unfit ta associate with a decent cotton-pickin' nigger. The Lord don't ignore even the lowest of his animals. But the Almighty hold you in such low regard He give you no skills. None. How miserable your shabbiness must be.\nbeat\nGet yerself clean. We dance tonight.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nSolomon lays down, but can't rest. The harshness of this life has mounted to the point he can take no more. He gets up, he goes to RETRIEVE THE SMALL SACK IN WHICH HE KEEPS HIS EARNINGS AS WELL AS HIS LETTER. But thinking better of it, Solomon returns the letter to hiding. He takes the money with him and cautiously moves from the cabin.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - LATER\nSolomon is heading through the darkness toward another small cabin on the property. There is the light of the lantern in the window. Solomon steels himself, knocks on the door. From inside we hear:\nARMSBY (V.O.)\nEnter.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - ARMSBY'S SHACK - LATER\nThe door opens. Solomon enters. Armsby is surprised to see him. So much so, he isn't sure what greeting to give. Solomon gives a blunt introduction. Re: the coins:\nSOLOMON\nThe proceeds of my fiddling performances. A few picayunes, but all I have in the world. I promise them to you if you will do me the favor I require. But I beg you not to expose me if you cannot grant the request.\nARMSBY\nWhat is it you ask?\nSOLOMON\nFirst, your word, sir.\nARMSBY\nOn my honor.\nSOLOMON\nIt is a simple enough request. I ask only that you deposit a letter in the Marksville post office. And that you keep the action an inviolable secret forever. The details of the letter are of no consequence. Even at that, for me to write it would be a self-imposition of much pain and suffering.\nARMSBY\nWhere's the letter now?\nSOLOMON\nIt is not yet composed. I will have it in a day. Two at most.\nArmsby considers the request.\nARMSBY\nI will do as you ask. And will accept whatever payment is offered.\nSolomon hesitates. In the moment, he's not so sure he can wholly give himself over to trust.\nARMSBY\nTo assist you, I put my own self at risk. I will do so, but not without fair compensation.\nSolomon hands over the money.\nARMSBY\nCompose your letter. We will meet again. In two days?\nSOLOMON\nIn two days. Thank you.\nSolomon exits.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nSolomon rests but does not sleep. He has set himself on a course, one from which there is no departure.\nEXT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - COTTON FIELD - DAY\nSolomon and the slaves pick cotton. Armsby is conspicuously NOT laboring in the field. As Solomon works he is watched by Epps. Watched more than he normally is. For a moment it seems it might just be a matter of perspective; Solomon's unease over his actions.\nBut soon Epps is joined by Armsby. The two men stand and talk, their looks locked toward Solomon.\nWhatever it is that is occurring between them continues for a long, long moment. But Epps makes no move toward Solomon. Solomon continues with his work.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nThe slaves are at rests. Gripping his whip Epps enters, without so much as a knock at the door. For a moment there's curiosity; is he there for a dance, for Patsey?\nLooking right to Solomon:\nEPPS\nGet up.\nPlanks of wood are being delivered and unloaded.\nSolomon does. Epps heads back out into the dark. He says nothing, but his directive is clear: Follow me.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - CONTINUOUS\nSolomon comes out into the dark. Nearly hidden in the shadows is a bitter Epps. Despite the lack of light, Epps's malevolence is quite clear. His whip twisting in his hand.\nEPPS\nWell, boy. I understand I've got a larned nigger that writes letters and tries to get white fellows to mail 'em.\nSolomon, hardly missing a beat, plays this off.\nSOLOMON\nDon't know nothing about it, Master Epps. Don't know nothing about it, sir.\nEPPS\nYah wasn't over with Armsby night before last?\nSOLOMON\nNo, master.\nEPPS\nHav'nt yah asked that fella to mail a letter fer yah at Marksville?\nWithout overplaying things, Solomon gets real slick.\nSOLOMON\nWhy, Lord, master, I never spoke but three words to him in all my life. I don't know what you mean.\nEPPS\nWell, Armsby tol' me today the devil was among my niggers. That I had one that needed close watchin' or he would run away. When I axed him why, he said you come over to him and waked him up in the middle of the night and wanted him to carry a letter to Marksville. What have yah got to say to that?\nSOLOMON\nAll I have to say, master, is all that need be said. There is no truth in it. How could I write a letter without ink or paper? There is nobody I want to write to 'cause I hain't got no friends living as I know of. That Armsby is a lying drunken fellow, they say, and nobody believes him anyway. You know I always tell the truth, and that I never go off the plantation without your given word. Now, master, I can see what that Armsby is after, plain enough. Didn't he want you to hire him for an overseer?\nEPPS\nYes.\nSOLOMON\nThat's it. He wants to make you believe we're all going to run away and then he thinks you'll hire an overseer to watch us. He just made that story out of whole cloth, 'cause he wants to get a situation. It's all a lie, master, you may depend on't.\nEpps shallow mind is so easily manipulated Solomon is able to work it as though he were performing origami. We can nearly see Epps's thoughts being folded.\nEPPS\nI'm damned, Platt, if I don't believe you tell the truth. He must take me for a soft, to think he can come it over me with them kind of yarns, musn't he? Maybe he think he can fool me. Maybe he thinks I don't know nothing -- Can't take care of my own niggers. Soft soap old Epps. Damn Armsby! Set the dogs on him, Platt. That filthy unloved bastard. He will not separate me from my niggers. I will drive him from my land before the sun comes over it. Ohh, were he not free and white, Platt. Were he not free and white.\nSolomon Northup is my name.\nEpps heads off to do as promised.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - NIGHT\nHaving found a lonely spot, Solomon has struck a small fire. He has in his hand his letter. With no ceremony, he casts it upon the flames and watches it burn.\nBLACK\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - DAY\nIt's the Sabbath. The slaves are left to themselves to do their own chores. At the moment they are down by the river washing their clothes in the water. Missing from the field of labor is Patsey, for whom Epps hollers.\nEPPS\nPatsey -- Patsey!\nEpps comes down to the bank and asks of the slaves:\nEPPS\nWhere is she? Where is Patsey?\nNo one answers.\nEPPS\nTalk, Damn you!\nPHEBE\nWe have no knowledge of her, Massa.\nEPPS\nThe hell you don't! You know where she is! She run off, ain't she? She's escaped, and you miserable black dogs stand like the deef and dumb. My best cotton picking nigger! My best. I'd give yah all up for her. Where she gone?\nNot a word spoken. Epps wades in and among the slaves and begins to whip at them recklessly.\nEPPS\nSpeak! Speak!\nThe slaves say nothing. There is nothing for them to say. They don't know where she is. Eventually Epps slows, then stops. He drops down in great sorrow.\nEPPS\nShe run off -- Pats run off.\nEXT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - LATER\nEpps sits on the piazza looking quite forlorn. He looks up only to see Patsey returning to the plantation. Epps steps up to greet her, with anger rather than relief.\nAs they hear his angry voice, the slaves step around from where they are hanging their laundry to dry.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - DAY\nEPPS\nRun off. Run off, did you?\nPATSEY\nMassa Epps--\nEPPS\nYou miserable wench! Where you been?\nPATSEY\nI been nowhere.\nEPPS\nLies to your misdeeds!\nPATSEY\nThe Sabbath day, Massa. I took me a walk to commune wit da Lord.\nEPPS\nBring the Lord into yer deceptions? Yah Godless... Shaw's. Comin' from Shaw's plantation weren't yah?\nPATSEY\nNo --\nEPPS\nYah didn't run, did yah? Yah took yerself ta pleasure Shaw. Yah gave baser passion to that unblushin' libertine!\nSolomon tries to intervene:\nSOLOMON\nMaster Epps--\nEPPS\nNow yah speak? Now that yah want to add to 'er lies yah find yer tongue.\nEpps goes to strike Solomon, but Patsey pulls his arm back.\nPATSEY\nDo not strike him. I went to Massa Shaw's plantation!\nEPPS\nYah admit it.\nPATSEY\nFreely. And you know why.\nPatsey takes soap from the pocket of her dress.\nPATSEY\nI got this from Mistress Shaw. Misstress Epps won't even grant me no soap ta clean with. Stink so much I make myself gag. Five hundred pounds 'a cotton day in, day out. More than any man here. And 'fo that I will be clean; that all I ax. Dis here what I went to Shaw's 'fo.\nEPPS\nYou lie --\nPATSEY\nThe Lord knows that's all.\nEPPS\nYou lie!\nPATSEY\nAnd you blind wit yer own covetousness. I don't lie, Massa. If you kill me, I'll stick ta that.\nEPPS\nOh, I'll fetch you down. I'll learn you to go to Shaw's. Platt, run get four stakes and straps a leather.\nAt first Solomon does not move. Epps level all his rage at him:\nEPPS\nGet them stakes!\nSolomon runs quickly to the tool shed. In short order he returns with the stakes and a hammer.\nEPPS\nDrive 'em into the ground.\nAs Solomon does so, Epps gives an order to Wiley and Edward.\nEPPS\nStrip her. Strike her bare 'n lash her to the stakes.\nMistress Epps has now come from the Great House. She gazes on the scene with an air of heartless satisfaction.\nNow tied face down to the stakes, Epps stands over Patsey with his whip.\nEPPS\nYah done this to yerself, Pats!\nThe slaves are now employed working on an extension to the Great House. Overseeing the project is MR. AVERY.\nEpps hoists the whip to strike, holds it high -- but no matter his rage, Epps cannot bring himself to deliver the blow. He looks to Mistress Epps who now stands gloating and spurring him on."

"To make my fortune, of course. I gave in to tales of wealth and prosperity that were the lore of the southern states: all that's needed being a patch of land and a few good growing seasons. Cotton, or tobacco. And then locating a proper bank to store your riches. But such profitable outcomes are reserved for the plantation masters. It's the lot of the rest of us to serve. So I settled to be an overseer, and failed as well at that. In the meantime my dreams gave way to reality. Now, I want nothing more than to earn a decent wage. And get myself home.\nArmsby takes another drink and leans back.\nARMSBY\nOh, to be a nigger. Not a concern in the world and every need taken care off. Consider yourself fortunate, Platt. It's the plight of the white to worry.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACKS - MORNING\nWe again hear the sound of the HORN BLOWING signaling the start of the work day for the slave.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - DAY\nWith the sun yet again high in the sky the slaves are working the field picking cotton. As before they sing a spiritual, the only thing that distracts them from the tedium at hand.\nBut there is no distracting from the heat. We see Uncle Abram begin to falter and finally drop down to the ground.\nTreach calls to Edward:\nTREACH\nGet him water.\nEdward runs to fetch water which he carries to Abram and DUMPS ON HIM BUT ABRAM DOES NOT RISE. DOES NOT MOVE.\nAt this point, the sounds of the singing from the others tapers off as they realize Abram isn't getting up.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - LATER\nWe are beyond the main of the plantation, the cotton field in the background. Solomon, Bob and Wiley are digging a grave in the dirt. The uncovered body of Abram lays near. Having dug down an appropriate distance, the three men take the body and, very unceremoniously, place it into the ground. That done, they begin to cover it with dirt. It is all the more of a funeral that Abram will receive.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GIN HOUSE - EVENING\nAs always, the day's pickings are again being weighed.\nTREACH\nOne hundred sixty pounds for Wiley.\nClearly displeased, Epps pulls Wiley from the line.\nEPPS\nPlatt?\nTREACH\nEighty eight pounds for Platt.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - DAY\nEpps moves to Solomon. As way of explanation but with defiance:\nSOLOMON\nWe buried Abram today --\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GIN HOUSE - LATER\nWE MAKE A QUICK CUT TO THE OUTSIDE OF THE GIN HOUSE. The reason for their low totals obviously doesn't matter as Solomon, Bob and Wiley receive a lashing for their lack of productivity.\nAs the last lash falls on his back, Epps moves directly to Solomon.\nEPPS\nYou are a disgrace. Unfit ta associate with a decent cotton-pickin' nigger. The Lord don't ignore even the lowest of his animals. But the Almighty hold you in such low regard He give you no skills. None. How miserable your shabbiness must be.\nbeat\nGet yerself clean. We dance tonight.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nSolomon lays down, but can't rest. The harshness of this life has mounted to the point he can take no more. He gets up, he goes to RETRIEVE THE SMALL SACK IN WHICH HE KEEPS HIS EARNINGS AS WELL AS HIS LETTER. But thinking better of it, Solomon returns the letter to hiding. He takes the money with him and cautiously moves from the cabin.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - LATER\nSolomon is heading through the darkness toward another small cabin on the property. There is the light of the lantern in the window. Solomon steels himself, knocks on the door. From inside we hear:\nARMSBY (V.O.)\nEnter.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - ARMSBY'S SHACK - LATER\nThe door opens. Solomon enters. Armsby is surprised to see him. So much so, he isn't sure what greeting to give. Solomon gives a blunt introduction. Re: the coins:\nSOLOMON\nThe proceeds of my fiddling performances. A few picayunes, but all I have in the world. I promise them to you if you will do me the favor I require. But I beg you not to expose me if you cannot grant the request.\nARMSBY\nWhat is it you ask?\nSOLOMON\nFirst, your word, sir.\nARMSBY\nOn my honor.\nSOLOMON\nIt is a simple enough request. I ask only that you deposit a letter in the Marksville post office. And that you keep the action an inviolable secret forever. The details of the letter are of no consequence. Even at that, for me to write it would be a self-imposition of much pain and suffering.\nARMSBY\nWhere's the letter now?\nSOLOMON\nIt is not yet composed. I will have it in a day. Two at most.\nArmsby considers the request.\nARMSBY\nI will do as you ask. And will accept whatever payment is offered.\nSolomon hesitates. In the moment, he's not so sure he can wholly give himself over to trust.\nARMSBY\nTo assist you, I put my own self at risk. I will do so, but not without fair compensation.\nSolomon hands over the money.\nARMSBY\nCompose your letter. We will meet again. In two days?\nSOLOMON\nIn two days. Thank you.\nSolomon exits.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nSolomon rests but does not sleep. He has set himself on a course, one from which there is no departure.\nEXT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - COTTON FIELD - DAY\nSolomon and the slaves pick cotton. Armsby is conspicuously NOT laboring in the field. As Solomon works he is watched by Epps. Watched more than he normally is. For a moment it seems it might just be a matter of perspective; Solomon's unease over his actions.\nBut soon Epps is joined by Armsby. The two men stand and talk, their looks locked toward Solomon.\nWhatever it is that is occurring between them continues for a long, long moment. But Epps makes no move toward Solomon. Solomon continues with his work.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nThe slaves are at rests. Gripping his whip Epps enters, without so much as a knock at the door. For a moment there's curiosity; is he there for a dance, for Patsey?\nLooking right to Solomon:\nEPPS\nGet up.\nPlanks of wood are being delivered and unloaded.\nSolomon does. Epps heads back out into the dark. He says nothing, but his directive is clear: Follow me.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - CONTINUOUS\nSolomon comes out into the dark. Nearly hidden in the shadows is a bitter Epps. Despite the lack of light, Epps's malevolence is quite clear. His whip twisting in his hand.\nEPPS\nWell, boy. I understand I've got a larned nigger that writes letters and tries to get white fellows to mail 'em.\nSolomon, hardly missing a beat, plays this off.\nSOLOMON\nDon't know nothing about it, Master Epps. Don't know nothing about it, sir.\nEPPS\nYah wasn't over with Armsby night before last?\nSOLOMON\nNo, master.\nEPPS\nHav'nt yah asked that fella to mail a letter fer yah at Marksville?\nWithout overplaying things, Solomon gets real slick.\nSOLOMON\nWhy, Lord, master, I never spoke but three words to him in all my life. I don't know what you mean.\nEPPS\nWell, Armsby tol' me today the devil was among my niggers. That I had one that needed close watchin' or he would run away. When I axed him why, he said you come over to him and waked him up in the middle of the night and wanted him to carry a letter to Marksville. What have yah got to say to that?\nSOLOMON\nAll I have to say, master, is all that need be said. There is no truth in it. How could I write a letter without ink or paper? There is nobody I want to write to 'cause I hain't got no friends living as I know of. That Armsby is a lying drunken fellow, they say, and nobody believes him anyway. You know I always tell the truth, and that I never go off the plantation without your given word. Now, master, I can see what that Armsby is after, plain enough. Didn't he want you to hire him for an overseer?\nEPPS\nYes.\nSOLOMON\nThat's it. He wants to make you believe we're all going to run away and then he thinks you'll hire an overseer to watch us. He just made that story out of whole cloth, 'cause he wants to get a situation. It's all a lie, master, you may depend on't.\nEpps shallow mind is so easily manipulated Solomon is able to work it as though he were performing origami. We can nearly see Epps's thoughts being folded.\nEPPS\nI'm damned, Platt, if I don't believe you tell the truth. He must take me for a soft, to think he can come it over me with them kind of yarns, musn't he? Maybe he think he can fool me. Maybe he thinks I don't know nothing -- Can't take care of my own niggers. Soft soap old Epps. Damn Armsby! Set the dogs on him, Platt. That filthy unloved bastard. He will not separate me from my niggers. I will drive him from my land before the sun comes over it. Ohh, were he not free and white, Platt. Were he not free and white.\nSolomon Northup is my name.\nEpps heads off to do as promised.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - NIGHT\nHaving found a lonely spot, Solomon has struck a small fire. He has in his hand his letter. With no ceremony, he casts it upon the flames and watches it burn.\nBLACK\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - DAY\nIt's the Sabbath. The slaves are left to themselves to do their own chores. At the moment they are down by the river washing their clothes in the water. Missing from the field of labor is Patsey, for whom Epps hollers.\nEPPS\nPatsey -- Patsey!\nEpps comes down to the bank and asks of the slaves:\nEPPS\nWhere is she? Where is Patsey?\nNo one answers.\nEPPS\nTalk, Damn you!\nPHEBE\nWe have no knowledge of her, Massa.\nEPPS\nThe hell you don't! You know where she is! She run off, ain't she? She's escaped, and you miserable black dogs stand like the deef and dumb. My best cotton picking nigger! My best. I'd give yah all up for her. Where she gone?\nNot a word spoken. Epps wades in and among the slaves and begins to whip at them recklessly.\nEPPS\nSpeak! Speak!\nThe slaves say nothing. There is nothing for them to say. They don't know where she is. Eventually Epps slows, then stops. He drops down in great sorrow.\nEPPS\nShe run off -- Pats run off.\nEXT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - LATER\nEpps sits on the piazza looking quite forlorn. He looks up only to see Patsey returning to the plantation. Epps steps up to greet her, with anger rather than relief.\nAs they hear his angry voice, the slaves step around from where they are hanging their laundry to dry.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - DAY\nEPPS\nRun off. Run off, did you?\nPATSEY\nMassa Epps--\nEPPS\nYou miserable wench! Where you been?\nPATSEY\nI been nowhere.\nEPPS\nLies to your misdeeds!\nPATSEY\nThe Sabbath day, Massa. I took me a walk to commune wit da Lord.\nEPPS\nBring the Lord into yer deceptions? Yah Godless... Shaw's. Comin' from Shaw's plantation weren't yah?\nPATSEY\nNo --\nEPPS\nYah didn't run, did yah? Yah took yerself ta pleasure Shaw. Yah gave baser passion to that unblushin' libertine!\nSolomon tries to intervene:\nSOLOMON\nMaster Epps--\nEPPS\nNow yah speak? Now that yah want to add to 'er lies yah find yer tongue.\nEpps goes to strike Solomon, but Patsey pulls his arm back.\nPATSEY\nDo not strike him. I went to Massa Shaw's plantation!\nEPPS\nYah admit it.\nPATSEY\nFreely. And you know why.\nPatsey takes soap from the pocket of her dress.\nPATSEY\nI got this from Mistress Shaw. Misstress Epps won't even grant me no soap ta clean with. Stink so much I make myself gag. Five hundred pounds 'a cotton day in, day out. More than any man here. And 'fo that I will be clean; that all I ax. Dis here what I went to Shaw's 'fo.\nEPPS\nYou lie --\nPATSEY\nThe Lord knows that's all.\nEPPS\nYou lie!\nPATSEY\nAnd you blind wit yer own covetousness. I don't lie, Massa. If you kill me, I'll stick ta that.\nEPPS\nOh, I'll fetch you down. I'll learn you to go to Shaw's. Platt, run get four stakes and straps a leather.\nAt first Solomon does not move. Epps level all his rage at him:\nEPPS\nGet them stakes!\nSolomon runs quickly to the tool shed. In short order he returns with the stakes and a hammer.\nEPPS\nDrive 'em into the ground.\nAs Solomon does so, Epps gives an order to Wiley and Edward.\nEPPS\nStrip her. Strike her bare 'n lash her to the stakes.\nMistress Epps has now come from the Great House. She gazes on the scene with an air of heartless satisfaction.\nNow tied face down to the stakes, Epps stands over Patsey with his whip.\nEPPS\nYah done this to yerself, Pats!\nThe slaves are now employed working on an extension to the Great House. Overseeing the project is MR. AVERY.\nEpps hoists the whip to strike, holds it high -- but no matter his rage, Epps cannot bring himself to deliver the blow. He looks to Mistress Epps who now stands gloating and spurring him on.To make my fortune, of course. I gave in to tales of wealth and prosperity that were the lore of the southern states: all that's needed being a patch of land and a few good growing seasons. Cotton, or tobacco. And then locating a proper bank to store your riches. But such profitable outcomes are reserved for the plantation masters. It's the lot of the rest of us to serve. So I settled to be an overseer, and failed as well at that. In the meantime my dreams gave way to reality. Now, I want nothing more than to earn a decent wage. And get myself home.\nArmsby takes another drink and leans back.\nARMSBY\nOh, to be a nigger. Not a concern in the world and every need taken care off. Consider yourself fortunate, Platt. It's the plight of the white to worry.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACKS - MORNING\nWe again hear the sound of the HORN BLOWING signaling the start of the work day for the slave.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - DAY\nWith the sun yet again high in the sky the slaves are working the field picking cotton. As before they sing a spiritual, the only thing that distracts them from the tedium at hand.\nBut there is no distracting from the heat. We see Uncle Abram begin to falter and finally drop down to the ground.\nTreach calls to Edward:\nTREACH\nGet him water.\nEdward runs to fetch water which he carries to Abram and DUMPS ON HIM BUT ABRAM DOES NOT RISE. DOES NOT MOVE.\nAt this point, the sounds of the singing from the others tapers off as they realize Abram isn't getting up.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - LATER\nWe are beyond the main of the plantation, the cotton field in the background. Solomon, Bob and Wiley are digging a grave in the dirt. The uncovered body of Abram lays near. Having dug down an appropriate distance, the three men take the body and, very unceremoniously, place it into the ground. That done, they begin to cover it with dirt. It is all the more of a funeral that Abram will receive.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GIN HOUSE - EVENING\nAs always, the day's pickings are again being weighed.\nTREACH\nOne hundred sixty pounds for Wiley.\nClearly displeased, Epps pulls Wiley from the line.\nEPPS\nPlatt?\nTREACH\nEighty eight pounds for Platt.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - DAY\nEpps moves to Solomon. As way of explanation but with defiance:\nSOLOMON\nWe buried Abram today --\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GIN HOUSE - LATER\nWE MAKE A QUICK CUT TO THE OUTSIDE OF THE GIN HOUSE. The reason for their low totals obviously doesn't matter as Solomon, Bob and Wiley receive a lashing for their lack of productivity.\nAs the last lash falls on his back, Epps moves directly to Solomon.\nEPPS\nYou are a disgrace. Unfit ta associate with a decent cotton-pickin' nigger. The Lord don't ignore even the lowest of his animals. But the Almighty hold you in such low regard He give you no skills. None. How miserable your shabbiness must be.\nbeat\nGet yerself clean. We dance tonight.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nSolomon lays down, but can't rest. The harshness of this life has mounted to the point he can take no more. He gets up, he goes to RETRIEVE THE SMALL SACK IN WHICH HE KEEPS HIS EARNINGS AS WELL AS HIS LETTER. But thinking better of it, Solomon returns the letter to hiding. He takes the money with him and cautiously moves from the cabin.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - LATER\nSolomon is heading through the darkness toward another small cabin on the property. There is the light of the lantern in the window. Solomon steels himself, knocks on the door. From inside we hear:\nARMSBY (V.O.)\nEnter.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - ARMSBY'S SHACK - LATER\nThe door opens. Solomon enters. Armsby is surprised to see him. So much so, he isn't sure what greeting to give. Solomon gives a blunt introduction. Re: the coins:\nSOLOMON\nThe proceeds of my fiddling performances. A few picayunes, but all I have in the world. I promise them to you if you will do me the favor I require. But I beg you not to expose me if you cannot grant the request.\nARMSBY\nWhat is it you ask?\nSOLOMON\nFirst, your word, sir.\nARMSBY\nOn my honor.\nSOLOMON\nIt is a simple enough request. I ask only that you deposit a letter in the Marksville post office. And that you keep the action an inviolable secret forever. The details of the letter are of no consequence. Even at that, for me to write it would be a self-imposition of much pain and suffering.\nARMSBY\nWhere's the letter now?\nSOLOMON\nIt is not yet composed. I will have it in a day. Two at most.\nArmsby considers the request.\nARMSBY\nI will do as you ask. And will accept whatever payment is offered.\nSolomon hesitates. In the moment, he's not so sure he can wholly give himself over to trust.\nARMSBY\nTo assist you, I put my own self at risk. I will do so, but not without fair compensation.\nSolomon hands over the money.\nARMSBY\nCompose your letter. We will meet again. In two days?\nSOLOMON\nIn two days. Thank you.\nSolomon exits.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nSolomon rests but does not sleep. He has set himself on a course, one from which there is no departure.\nEXT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - COTTON FIELD - DAY\nSolomon and the slaves pick cotton. Armsby is conspicuously NOT laboring in the field. As Solomon works he is watched by Epps. Watched more than he normally is. For a moment it seems it might just be a matter of perspective; Solomon's unease over his actions.\nBut soon Epps is joined by Armsby. The two men stand and talk, their looks locked toward Solomon.\nWhatever it is that is occurring between them continues for a long, long moment. But Epps makes no move toward Solomon. Solomon continues with his work.\nINT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nThe slaves are at rests. Gripping his whip Epps enters, without so much as a knock at the door. For a moment there's curiosity; is he there for a dance, for Patsey?\nLooking right to Solomon:\nEPPS\nGet up.\nPlanks of wood are being delivered and unloaded.\nSolomon does. Epps heads back out into the dark. He says nothing, but his directive is clear: Follow me.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - CONTINUOUS\nSolomon comes out into the dark. Nearly hidden in the shadows is a bitter Epps. Despite the lack of light, Epps's malevolence is quite clear. His whip twisting in his hand.\nEPPS\nWell, boy. I understand I've got a larned nigger that writes letters and tries to get white fellows to mail 'em.\nSolomon, hardly missing a beat, plays this off.\nSOLOMON\nDon't know nothing about it, Master Epps. Don't know nothing about it, sir.\nEPPS\nYah wasn't over with Armsby night before last?\nSOLOMON\nNo, master.\nEPPS\nHav'nt yah asked that fella to mail a letter fer yah at Marksville?\nWithout overplaying things, Solomon gets real slick.\nSOLOMON\nWhy, Lord, master, I never spoke but three words to him in all my life. I don't know what you mean.\nEPPS\nWell, Armsby tol' me today the devil was among my niggers. That I had one that needed close watchin' or he would run away. When I axed him why, he said you come over to him and waked him up in the middle of the night and wanted him to carry a letter to Marksville. What have yah got to say to that?\nSOLOMON\nAll I have to say, master, is all that need be said. There is no truth in it. How could I write a letter without ink or paper? There is nobody I want to write to 'cause I hain't got no friends living as I know of. That Armsby is a lying drunken fellow, they say, and nobody believes him anyway. You know I always tell the truth, and that I never go off the plantation without your given word. Now, master, I can see what that Armsby is after, plain enough. Didn't he want you to hire him for an overseer?\nEPPS\nYes.\nSOLOMON\nThat's it. He wants to make you believe we're all going to run away and then he thinks you'll hire an overseer to watch us. He just made that story out of whole cloth, 'cause he wants to get a situation. It's all a lie, master, you may depend on't.\nEpps shallow mind is so easily manipulated Solomon is able to work it as though he were performing origami. We can nearly see Epps's thoughts being folded.\nEPPS\nI'm damned, Platt, if I don't believe you tell the truth. He must take me for a soft, to think he can come it over me with them kind of yarns, musn't he? Maybe he think he can fool me. Maybe he thinks I don't know nothing -- Can't take care of my own niggers. Soft soap old Epps. Damn Armsby! Set the dogs on him, Platt. That filthy unloved bastard. He will not separate me from my niggers. I will drive him from my land before the sun comes over it. Ohh, were he not free and white, Platt. Were he not free and white.\nSolomon Northup is my name.\nEpps heads off to do as promised.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - NIGHT\nHaving found a lonely spot, Solomon has struck a small fire. He has in his hand his letter. With no ceremony, he casts it upon the flames and watches it burn.\nBLACK\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - DAY\nIt's the Sabbath. The slaves are left to themselves to do their own chores. At the moment they are down by the river washing their clothes in the water. Missing from the field of labor is Patsey, for whom Epps hollers.\nEPPS\nPatsey -- Patsey!\nEpps comes down to the bank and asks of the slaves:\nEPPS\nWhere is she? Where is Patsey?\nNo one answers.\nEPPS\nTalk, Damn you!\nPHEBE\nWe have no knowledge of her, Massa.\nEPPS\nThe hell you don't! You know where she is! She run off, ain't she? She's escaped, and you miserable black dogs stand like the deef and dumb. My best cotton picking nigger! My best. I'd give yah all up for her. Where she gone?\nNot a word spoken. Epps wades in and among the slaves and begins to whip at them recklessly.\nEPPS\nSpeak! Speak!\nThe slaves say nothing. There is nothing for them to say. They don't know where she is. Eventually Epps slows, then stops. He drops down in great sorrow.\nEPPS\nShe run off -- Pats run off.\nEXT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - LATER\nEpps sits on the piazza looking quite forlorn. He looks up only to see Patsey returning to the plantation. Epps steps up to greet her, with anger rather than relief.\nAs they hear his angry voice, the slaves step around from where they are hanging their laundry to dry.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - DAY\nEPPS\nRun off. Run off, did you?\nPATSEY\nMassa Epps--\nEPPS\nYou miserable wench! Where you been?\nPATSEY\nI been nowhere.\nEPPS\nLies to your misdeeds!\nPATSEY\nThe Sabbath day, Massa. I took me a walk to commune wit da Lord.\nEPPS\nBring the Lord into yer deceptions? Yah Godless... Shaw's. Comin' from Shaw's plantation weren't yah?\nPATSEY\nNo --\nEPPS\nYah didn't run, did yah? Yah took yerself ta pleasure Shaw. Yah gave baser passion to that unblushin' libertine!\nSolomon tries to intervene:\nSOLOMON\nMaster Epps--\nEPPS\nNow yah speak? Now that yah want to add to 'er lies yah find yer tongue.\nEpps goes to strike Solomon, but Patsey pulls his arm back.\nPATSEY\nDo not strike him. I went to Massa Shaw's plantation!\nEPPS\nYah admit it.\nPATSEY\nFreely. And you know why.\nPatsey takes soap from the pocket of her dress.\nPATSEY\nI got this from Mistress Shaw. Misstress Epps won't even grant me no soap ta clean with. Stink so much I make myself gag. Five hundred pounds 'a cotton day in, day out. More than any man here. And 'fo that I will be clean; that all I ax. Dis here what I went to Shaw's 'fo.\nEPPS\nYou lie --\nPATSEY\nThe Lord knows that's all.\nEPPS\nYou lie!\nPATSEY\nAnd you blind wit yer own covetousness. I don't lie, Massa. If you kill me, I'll stick ta that.\nEPPS\nOh, I'll fetch you down. I'll learn you to go to Shaw's. Platt, run get four stakes and straps a leather.\nAt first Solomon does not move. Epps level all his rage at him:\nEPPS\nGet them stakes!\nSolomon runs quickly to the tool shed. In short order he returns with the stakes and a hammer.\nEPPS\nDrive 'em into the ground.\nAs Solomon does so, Epps gives an order to Wiley and Edward.\nEPPS\nStrip her. Strike her bare 'n lash her to the stakes.\nMistress Epps has now come from the Great House. She gazes on the scene with an air of heartless satisfaction.\nNow tied face down to the stakes, Epps stands over Patsey with his whip.\nEPPS\nYah done this to yerself, Pats!\nThe slaves are now employed working on an extension to the Great House. Overseeing the project is MR. AVERY.\nEpps hoists the whip to strike, holds it high -- but no matter his rage, Epps cannot bring himself to deliver the blow. He looks to Mistress Epps who now stands gloating and spurring him on."

"101faa9126589e7e32b9a3388448579c2084e90eb9bc918d7656579087ef20476"

"NULL"

"We come up now outside of Master Epps's plantation. Epps stands in the drive. He's in surprisingly good spirits as Solomon AGED SEVERAL YEARS NOW Wiley and Bob trudge their way toward Epps and his other slaves who are gathered.\nThe cotton field is in full bloom, the crop fully returned.\nEPPS\nA joyous day. A joyous day. Dark times is behind us. Clean livin' 'n prayer done lifted the plague.\nIndicating to the cotton:\nEPPS\nAs thick 'n white as New England snow. 'N now my niggers is returned to me.\nto Solomon\nHeard Judge Turner made you a driver. A driver? Oh, did you beguile him, Platt, with your slick nigger ways? Well, yah won't stand idle with a lash in hand. Not on my land. Much work to do. Days of old long since, eh? Joyous indeed.\nThroughout Epps's welcome, Solomon's focus is on Patsey who is lined up with the other slaves. SHE IS NOW MORE HAGGARD THAN WHEN WE LAST SAW HER. Her face and arms display many new scars. It's clear that in the intervening years she has quite literally been a whipping boy for Epps and the Mistress.\nEXT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - COTTON FIELD - DAY\nThe slaves are out working on the field. Among their ranks is a white man, ARMSBY. He is wholly unskilled at picking cotton, and he puts little effort into the job.\nAs we meet him he seems a decent sort if a little short on self-motivation. In anachronistic terminology, he'd be called a \"slacker.\"\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GIN HOUSE - EVENING\nAs Epps said, it is days of long since. The slaves are back to having their cotton weighed in the Gin House\nEPPS\nWiley?\nTREACH\nTwo hundred sixty pounds.\nEPPS\nBob?\nTREACH\nThree hundred forty pounds for Bob.\nEPPS\nPatsey?\nTREACH\nFive hundred twenty pounds.\nEPPS\nPlatt?\nTREACH\nOne hundred sixty pounds.\nBefore Treach is even done announcing the weight, Epps has pulled Solomon aside to where Uncle Abram already awaits his fate.\nEPPS\nArmsby?\nTREACH\nSixty four pounds.\nEpps speaks to Armsby sternly, but nothing of the manner in which he would address the slaves.\nEPPS\nA good days labor would average two hundred pounds.\nARMSBY\nYes, sir.\nEPPS\nI'm sure in time y'll develope as a picker, but it takes effort, boy. Put some damn effort into it.\nARMSBY\nYes, sir.\nTo Treach, regarding Solomon and Abram:\nEPPS\nTake 'em out. Get to whippin'.\nNo force is needed. The slaves understand the situation.\nBLACK\nThey follow Treach out of the Gin house.\nEXT. EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nWe come in after the punishment has been dealt. Patsey tends to Uncle Abram's back as Armsby applies liniments to Solomon's. As he does, Armsby muses:\nARMSBY\nIt's a tragedy. How does such come to pass? Working a field and picking cotton like a lowly hand. I'm of a damn sight better station. And my desires never lacked for imagination, though I will admit they have at times been short on ingenuity. But only at times. I've worked as an overseer, you know.\nSOLOMON\nI did not, sir.\nARMSBY\nNot \"sir.\" Just Armsby. Not owed more than any other in the field. I worked plantations from Virginia, down into Alabama. I could manage easy a hundred slaves and have done so. But to toil in the field? Never thought that would come to pass. Never. But times are desperate. Where once I had said \"no\" to Epps and his merger offerings, I returned cap in hand. Look at what I've become.\nSOLOMON\nHow did you arrive at such a place, if I may ask?\nARMSBY\nAsk. It's just conversation.\nFrom a pocket Armsby produces a flask.\nARMSBY\nI became a little too dependant on the whisky, a little too undependable on the job. Before you say I'm just a sorry drunkard, let me state my case: As reliable employment as overseeing is, it's no easy chore on the spirit. I say no man of conscious can take the lash to another human day in, and day out without shredding at his own self. Takes him to a place where he either makes excuses within his mind to be unaffected -- Or finds some way to trample his guilty sensations. Well, I trampled.\nArmsby takes a drink.\nARMSBY\nAnd with frequency.\nSOLOMON\nWhere is your place of birth?\nARMSBY\nMaryland. Have you traveled there?\nSOLOMON\nI cannot say that I have.\nARMSBY\nFine country. More seasonal than the bayou. A deal less humid.\nStop a moment. Have you any other name than Platt?\nSOLOMON\nWhy did you leave it?"

"101faa9126589e7e32b9a3388448579c2084e90eb9bc918d7656579087ef20475"

"In an inconsolable rage, Tibeats runs off to the piazza to fetch a whip.\nSolomon looks around. He is alone other than RACHEL the cook and CHAPIN'S WIFE who, shocked by that which she witnesses, runs out to the field to fetch Chapin.\nSolomon's instinct is to run, but he stands his ground as Tibeats marches back whip in hand.\nTIBEATS\nStrip yer clothes!\nSolomon does no such thing.\nTIBEATS\nStrip!\nSOLOMON\nI will not.\nWith \"concentrated vengeance,\" Tibeats springs for Solomon, seizing him by the throat with one hand and raising the whip with the other. Before he can strike the blow, however, Solomon catches Tibeats by the collar of his coat and pulls him in close. Reaching down, Solomon grabs Tibeats by the ankle and pushes him back with the other hand. Tibeats tumbles to the ground. A violent struggle takes place as Solomon puts a foot to Tibeats throat, and then in a frenzy of madness snatches the whip from Tibeats and begins to strike him with the handle again and again and again.\nTIBEATS\nYew will not live ta see another day nigger! This is yer last, I swear it!\nSolomon ignores the threats, continues to beat Tibeats.\nBlow after blow falling fast and heavy on Tibeats's wriggling form. The stiff stock of the whip wraps around Tibeats's cringing body until Solomon's arm aches.\nTibeats's cries of vengeance turn to yelps for help and then pleas for mercy:\nTIBEATS\nMurder! It's murder! Lord, God, help me. God be merciful!\nChapin comes riding in from the field fast and hard.\nSolomon strikes Tibeats a blow or two more, then delivers a well-directed kick that sends Tibeats rolling over the ground.\nCHAPIN\nWhat is the matter?\nTibeats struggles up and tries to present an air of dignity and control while he keeps a demonic eye on Solomon:\nSOLOMON\nMaster Tibeats wants to whip me for using the nails you gave me.\nCHAPIN\nWhat's the matter with the nails?\nTIBEATS\nThey're -- they're too large.\nCHAPIN\nI am overseer here. I told Platt to take them and use them, and if they were not of the proper size I would get others on returning from the field. It is not his fault. Besides, I shall furnish such nails as I please. Do you understand that, Mr. Tibeats?\nTibeats answer is in the grinding of his teeth and the shaking of his fist.\nTIBEATS\nThis ain't half over. I will have my satisfaction.\nTibeats moves off toward the house. Chapin follows. A long moment, Solomon stands alone. He looks around, not sure what to do; to stay or to flee. Anxiety mounts on his features.\nA moment more, and Tibeats exits the house. He saddles his horse and rides off to beat the devil. Or, worse, to fetch him.\nChapin comes running back out of the house. He is visibly excited, and when he speaks he is quite earnest.\nThough he tries to project reasoned emotions he gives off an air of impending trouble.\nCHAPIN\nDo not stir. Do not attempt to leave the plantation on any account whatever. Your master is a rascal, and has left on no good errand. But if you run there is no protecting you."

"Chapin runs off to join Rachel. The two converse at a distance from Solomon, then they head off for the log kitchen.\nSolomon is now very much alone, and he waits for what is to come. AND WE WAIT WITH HIM. And we wait, and we continue to wait -- Moment by moment, the dread of the unexpected mount.\nSolomon's eyes begin to well. He has beaten a white man, and he knows that death awaits him.\nA SLIGHT PAYER TO THE HEAVENS BEGINS TO FORM IN HIS THROAT, but he is too choked up to fully speak it.\nChapin has now returned to the piazza. He stands and watches, but does not move to Solomon.\nSolomon waits, and waits --\nWE HEAR THE SOUND OF DISTANT HOOFS which grow louder and louder in the manner of rolling thunder. It's Tibeats.\nHe returns with two accomplices; COOK and RAMSAY. They carry with them large whips and a coil of rope.\nDismounting, they move with menace that is tinged with perverse pleasure. Tibeats orders:\nTIBEATS\nCross your hands.\nbeat\nYou resist, I swear I will break your head and cut your black throat. Cross your hands!\nSolomon does as ordered. He's tied by Cook and Ramsay - his wrists, and then ankles bound in the same manner. In the meantime the other two have slipped a cord within Solomon's elbows, running it across his back and tying it firmly. Solomon is then dragged toward a peach tree. A lynching is in store. The naked horror of it intensely palpable.\nSolomon looks toward the piazza, but Chapin is now gone.\nTears of fear flow down Solomon's cheeks. He is on the verge of panic; a man heading toward his own execution, he begins to struggle and fight. Cook and Ramsay almost relish this; an opportunity to inflict hurt on Solomon.\nA rope goes around Solomon's neck, then is tossed over the branch of the tree. The trio begin to hoist Solomon.\nHe gasps and gags as spittle flies from his mouth and the life is choked from him.\nWith suddenness, Chapin comes from the house brandishing a pistol in each hand - Colt Paterson .36 caliber\n\"Holster\" pistols with 9\" barrels. Chapin moves with determination toward the lynch mob. He is sharp and matter of fact. With the guns in hand, he really doesn't need to be much more demonstrative.\nCHAPIN\nGentlemen -- Whoever moves that slave another foot from where he stands is a dead man. Tibeats, you are a scoundrel, and I know it. You richly deserved the flogging you have received. I have been overseer of this plantation seven years, and in the absence of William Ford, am master here. My duty is to protect his interests. Ford holds a mortgage on Platt of four hundred dollars. If you hang him, he loses his debt. Until that is canceled you have no right to take his life.\nDirecting his attention to Cook and Ramsay:\nCHAPIN\nAs for you two, begone. If you have any regard for your own safety -- I say, begone!\nCook and Ramsay don't need to be told twice. The pistols Chapin's gripping make the situation real clear. Without further word, they mount their horses and ride away.\nTibeats remains, and his anger with him.\nTIBEATS\nYah got no cause. Platt is mine, and mine ta do with as I please. Yah touch my property, I will 'ave yah strung up as well.\nTibeats mounts up and departs. There is a surreal moment as Chapin's not sure what to do about Solomon. He chooses to do nothing. Solomon is left dangling by the neck from the tree as Chapin calls to Rachel:\nCHAPIN\nRun to the field. Fetch Lawson, hurry him here and bring the brown mule with him.\nRachel runs off. A FEW MOMENTS, then LAWSON comes running with the mule. Chapin, with much urgency:\nCHAPIN\nYou must ride to Master Ford. Tell him to come here at once without a single moment's delay. Tell him they are trying to murder Platt. Hurry, boy. Bring him back if you must kill the mule to do so!\nLawson mounts up and rides off, the mule demonstrating much speed.\nEXT. TANNER PLANTATION - LATER\nHOURS HAVE PASSED. The sun is now at its apex. Solomon remains tied and dangling exactly where he was left.\nDespite this odd and horrific sight, life on the plantation continues. The OTHER SLAVES work in the field. CHILDREN make their way playfully in the yard.\nIt should all underscore the fact that a black, hanging even partially from a tree, is nothing unusual in this time and space.\nChapin walks back and forth with the pistols in his hands. Clearly he fears Tibeats returning with more and better assistance. And yet, he does nothing to alleviate Solomon's suffering. He heeds Tibeats words, and as though caught up in the middle of nothing more than a property dispute, he offers no further aid.\nEXT. TANNER PLANTATION - LATER\nSolomon continues to hang. By now he is drenched in sweat, and nearly delirious with dehydration. His lips dry and parched. He may not die from hanging, but he may very well expire before the day is over.\nEventually Rachel comes over timidly, and as though she were acting contrary to orders and offers a drink of water from a tin cup, pouring it in Solomon's mouth for him. She then takes a small hand towel and dabs at the water which clings to his lips.\nShe then retreats, and leaves Solomon to hang.\nEXT. TANNER PLANTATION - EVENING\nThe sun is just now arching for the horizon. Solomon remains, as though his torture will not end. Ford, trailed by the slave Lawson, finally comes riding up. He dismounts, and moves swiftly over to Solomon. With great heartache:\nFORD\nPlatt -- My poor Platt.\nFord produces a blade and cuts Solomon loose. Solomon attempts to carry himself, but he cannot. He falls to the ground and passes out.\nINT. TANNER PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - NIGHT\nAs we come into the scene, Solomon lays on a blanket on the floor. Eventually, his eyes flutter, then open. He is in the foyer of the Tanner house. As he gets his bearings, he looks around the interior. THE SPACE IS HANDSOME, AND WELL DECORATED.\nIt is sharp contrast to the bleak surroundings, shacks and dungeons Solomon has largely been accustom to during his time of slavery. It will be the \"first and last time such a sumptuous resting place was granted\" during his twelve years of bondage.\nSolomon doesn't have much chance to luxuriate in his surroundings. He hears a DOG BARKING just outside, and is unnerved. Has Tibeats returned to finish what he started?\nFrom a study, Master Ford appears with a gun in hand. He goes to the door, opens it and looks outside. He can see nothing. Satisfied, Ford crosses back over to Solomon.\nHe is frank with Solomon regarding the situation.\nFORD\nI believe Tibeats is skulkin' about the premises somewhere, too cowardly to show himself for a proper confrontation. He will in time. Tibeats wants you dead, and he will attempt to have you so. It's no longer safe for you here.\nSOLOMON\nMaster Ford, I am willing to work. I will proceed with all my labors and more, but I beg that you take me from this hateful place.\nFORD\nI cannot protect you.\nSOLOMON\nMaster, please --\nFORD\nAnd I don't believe you will remain passive if Tibeats attacks. To strike him again is to warrant your death from all corners. It is best for you to go. I have transferred my debt to Edwin Epps. He will take charge of you. He is a hard man. Prides himself on being a \"nigger breaker.\" But truthfully I could find no others who would have you. You've made a reputation of yourself. A notorious one as a slave of both mind and will. You are an exceptional nigger, Platt. I fear no good will come of it.\nBLACK\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - BARN - DAY\nEDWIN EPPS is a large, portly, heavy-bodied man with light hair, high cheekbones and a Roman nose of extraordinary dimensions. He has blue eyes, a fair complexion and is full six feet high. His manners are repulsive and coarse, and his language gives speedy and unequivocal evidence that he has never enjoyed the advantages of an education.\nHe reads the Bible to his slaves, eight of them altogether. ABRAM; a tall, older slave of about sixty years. WILEY, who is forty eight. PHEBE, who is married to Wiley. BOB and HENRY who are Phebe's children, EDWARD and PATSEY. Patsey is young, just 23 years old -- though in the era, 23 not as young as in the present day. She is the offspring of a \"Guinea nigger,\" brought over to Cuba in a slave ship. She nearly brims with unconversant sexuality.\nMISTRESS EPPS, Epps's wife, is also present.\nThough Epps reads the word of the Lord, he lacks the tone of compassion with which Ford read.\nEPPS\n\"And that servant which knew his Lord's will -- WHICH KNEW HIS LORD'S WILL and prepared not himself -- PREPARED NOT HIMSELF, neither did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes\" D'ye hear that? \"Stripes.\" That nigger that don't take care, that don't obey his lord - that's his master - d'ye see? - that 'ere nigger shall be beaten with many stripes. Now, \"many\" signifies a great many. Forty, a hundred, a hundred and fifty lashes -- That's Scripter!\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE CABIN - MORNING\nThe cabin is constructed of logs, without floor or window. The rude door hangs on great wooden hinges. In one end is constructed an awkward fireplace.\nThe sun has not yet even broken the horizon as a HORN IS BLOWN from the Great House. Slaves rise, clearly weary from their \"joyful\" night of dancing.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - DAY\nIt is August, \"cotton picking\" season.\nWe are looking out over a cotton field in full bloom. It presents a visual purity, like an immaculate expanse of light, new-fallen snow. The cotton grows from five to seven feet high, each stalk having a great many branches shooting out in all directions and lapping each other above the water furrow.\nThere is a slave to each side of the row. They have a sack around their necks that hangs to the ground, the mouth of the sack about breast high. Baskets are placed at the end of the furrows. Slaves dump their sacks of cotton in the baskets, then pick until their sacks are again filled.\nSolomon, as with the other slaves, is picking cotton. It is hard, harsh back breaking work. Clearly he's not \"skilled\" at the chore - he moves along slowly and does not pick with any particular dexterity.\nPatsey, on the other hand, is the \"queen of the field.\"\nShe moves through the rows at speed, expertly picking the cotton.\nTHE SOUNDTRACK TO THE SCENE IS NOTHING MORE THAN THE RUSTLE OF LABOR, THE MALE CICADAS BUGS \"TYMBALS\" IN THE HEAT and a SPIRITUAL SUNG BY THE SLAVES.\nDespite the heat, there is no stopping for water. The slaves are \"driven\" by Edward, who is himself \"driven\" by Treach.\nTREACH\nC'mon. Drive dem niggers.\nEdward moves among the slaves, applying the whip to them without regard.\nEDWARD\nPick dat cotton. Move along now, hear?\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GIN HOUSE - EVENING\nThe day's work is done. The slaves are now assembled in the gin house with their baskets of cotton which are being weighed by Treach. There is anxiety among the slave, the reason for which soon becomes apparent.\nTREACH\nTwo hundred forty pounds for Bob.\nEPPS\nWhat yah got for James?\nTREACH\nTwo hundred ninety five pounds.\nEPPS\nTha's real good, boy. Tha's real good.\nTREACH\nOne hundred eighty two pounds for Platt.\nEpps does not look happy. Treach says again:\nTREACH\nOne hundred eighty two.\nEPPS\nHow much can even an average nigger pick a day?\nTREACH\nTwo hundred pounds.\nEPPS\nThis nigger ain't even average.\nEpps pulls Solomon aside.\nTREACH\nFive hundred twelve pounds for Patsey.\nEPPS\nFive hundred twelve. Yah men folk got no shame lettin' Patsey out pick yah? The day ain't yet come she swung lower than five hundred pounds. Queen of the fields, she is.\nTREACH\nTwo hundred six pou--\nEPPS\nI ain't done, Treach. Ain't I owed a minute to luxuriate on the work Patsey done?\nTREACH\nSir --\nEPPS\nDamned Queen. Born and bred to the field. A nigger among niggers, and God give 'er to me. A lesson in the rewards of righteous livin'. All be observant ta that. All!\nbeat\nNow, Treach. Now speak.\nTREACH\nOne hundred thirty eight pounds for Phebe.\nEPPS\nHit one forty five yesterday. Pull her out.\nTREACH\nTwo hundred six pounds for Abram.\nEPPS\nHow much he pick yesterday?\nTREACH\nTwo hundred twenty nine pounds.\nAbram is pulled from the line, huddled with Solomon.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - YARD - EVENING\nA flogging is going on. Solomon, Phebe, and Abram are stripped and now being given a perfunctory whipping delivered by Epps.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - EVENING\nEvening, but the day is not yet done. Slaves attend their various evening chores; feeding livestock, doing laundry, cooking food. There is no respite from a slave's charge.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nA fire is kindled in the cabin. The slaves finally fix their own dinner of corn meal. Corn is ground in a small hand mill. The corn meal is mixed with a little water, placed in the fire and baked. When it is \"done brown\" the ashes are scraped off. Bacon is fried. The slaves eat.\nAs they eat, Abram goes on in great length and with much emotion about General Jackson.\nUNCLE ABRAM\nHold my words: General Jackson will forever be immortalized. His bravery will be handed down to the last posterity. If ever there be a stain upon \"raw militia,\" he done wiped away on the eighth of January. I say da result a that day's battle is of 'mo importance to our grand nation than any occurrence 'fo or since. Great man. Great man indeed. We all need pray to Heavenly Father da General reign over us always.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nThe slaves are sleeping. There is a loud commotion.\nEpps enters, drunkenly, forcing the slaves awake.\nEPPS\nGet up! Get up, we dance tonight! We will not waste the evenin' with yer laziness. Get up.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - MAIN HOUSE - NIGHT\nDespite the lateness of the hour, the slaves are up and now fully dressed. They take up position in the middle of the floor. They wait, poised like actors.\nSolomon strikes up a tune and the slaves dance. They do so very wearily. The whole of it certainly more torture than pleasure.\nEpps, whip in hand:\nEPPS\nWhere's yah merriment? Move yer feet.\nAs the slaves twirl about Epps keeps an attentive eye on Patsey. It should be quite clear that his primary motivation for holding dances is so that he may view Patsey twirl about the floor.\nThis fact is not lost on the Mistress Epps. A few moments of Epps's lust on display is all that the Mistress can bear. Jealousy mounting, she snatches up a CARAFE. With all her might she throws it at Patsey. It hits Patsey square in the face.\nTOO THICK TO SHATTER, IT LEAVES HER BLOODY AND WRITHING ON THE FLOOR. The dancing, the music stop. The slaves, however, react as though it is not the first time they've seen as much from the Mistress.\nMistress Epps, screaming like a hellion:\nMISTRESS EPPS\nSell her!\nEPPS\nC'mon, now. Wha's this?\nMISTRESS EPPS\nYou will sell the negress!\nEPPS\nYou're talkin' foolish. Sell little Pats? She pick with more vigor than any other nigger! Choose another ta go.\nMISTRESS EPPS\nNo other. Sell her!\nEPPS\nI will not!\nMISTRESS EPPS\nYou will remove that black bitch from this property, 'er I'll take myself back to Cheneyville.\nEPPS\nOh, the idleness of that yarn washes over me. Do not set yourself up against Patsey, my dear. That's a wager you will lose. Calm yerself. And settle for my affection, 'cause my affection you got. Or, go. 'Cause I will rid myself of yah well before I do away with her!\nMistress Epps stands irate, lost in fury and unable to even think of what to do. Eventually, optionless, she storms away.\nFor a few beats there is only the sound of Patsey sobbing.\nEPPS\nThat damned woman! I won't have my mood spoiled. I will not. Dance!\nEpps sends the whip in Solomon's direction. Solomon responds by playing.\nTreach literally drags the prone Patsey from the floor, blood still spilling from her face. The slaves, as ordered, return to dancing.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - MORNING\nThe sun has only just risen above the horizon. FROM THE GREAT HOUSE THE HORN IS BLOWN signaling the start of another day.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - DAY\nSlaves are in the field picking cotton. They accompany their work with a SPIRITUAL.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - LATER\nAs the slaves make their way in from the field, the Mistress calls to Solomon. SHE HAS A PIECE OF PAPER IN HAND.\nMISTRESS EPPS\nPlatt --\nSOLOMON Chapin runs off to join Rachel. The two converse at a distance from Solomon, then they head off for the log kitchen.\nSolomon is now very much alone, and he waits for what is to come. AND WE WAIT WITH HIM. And we wait, and we continue to wait -- Moment by moment, the dread of the unexpected mount.\nSolomon's eyes begin to well. He has beaten a white man, and he knows that death awaits him.\nA SLIGHT PAYER TO THE HEAVENS BEGINS TO FORM IN HIS THROAT, but he is too choked up to fully speak it.\nChapin has now returned to the piazza. He stands and watches, but does not move to Solomon.\nSolomon waits, and waits --\nWE HEAR THE SOUND OF DISTANT HOOFS which grow louder and louder in the manner of rolling thunder. It's Tibeats.\nHe returns with two accomplices; COOK and RAMSAY. They carry with them large whips and a coil of rope.\nDismounting, they move with menace that is tinged with perverse pleasure. Tibeats orders:\nTIBEATS\nCross your hands.\nbeat\nYou resist, I swear I will break your head and cut your black throat. Cross your hands!\nSolomon does as ordered. He's tied by Cook and Ramsay - his wrists, and then ankles bound in the same manner. In the meantime the other two have slipped a cord within Solomon's elbows, running it across his back and tying it firmly. Solomon is then dragged toward a peach tree. A lynching is in store. The naked horror of it intensely palpable.\nSolomon looks toward the piazza, but Chapin is now gone.\nTears of fear flow down Solomon's cheeks. He is on the verge of panic; a man heading toward his own execution, he begins to struggle and fight. Cook and Ramsay almost relish this; an opportunity to inflict hurt on Solomon.\nA rope goes around Solomon's neck, then is tossed over the branch of the tree. The trio begin to hoist Solomon.\nHe gasps and gags as spittle flies from his mouth and the life is choked from him.\nWith suddenness, Chapin comes from the house brandishing a pistol in each hand - Colt Paterson .36 caliber\n\"Holster\" pistols with 9\" barrels. Chapin moves with determination toward the lynch mob. He is sharp and matter of fact. With the guns in hand, he really doesn't need to be much more demonstrative.\nCHAPIN\nGentlemen -- Whoever moves that slave another foot from where he stands is a dead man. Tibeats, you are a scoundrel, and I know it. You richly deserved the flogging you have received. I have been overseer of this plantation seven years, and in the absence of William Ford, am master here. My duty is to protect his interests. Ford holds a mortgage on Platt of four hundred dollars. If you hang him, he loses his debt. Until that is canceled you have no right to take his life.\nDirecting his attention to Cook and Ramsay:\nCHAPIN\nAs for you two, begone. If you have any regard for your own safety -- I say, begone!\nCook and Ramsay don't need to be told twice. The pistols Chapin's gripping make the situation real clear. Without further word, they mount their horses and ride away.\nTibeats remains, and his anger with him.\nTIBEATS\nYah got no cause. Platt is mine, and mine ta do with as I please. Yah touch my property, I will 'ave yah strung up as well.\nTibeats mounts up and departs. There is a surreal moment as Chapin's not sure what to do about Solomon. He chooses to do nothing. Solomon is left dangling by the neck from the tree as Chapin calls to Rachel:\nCHAPIN\nRun to the field. Fetch Lawson, hurry him here and bring the brown mule with him.\nRachel runs off. A FEW MOMENTS, then LAWSON comes running with the mule. Chapin, with much urgency:\nCHAPIN\nYou must ride to Master Ford. Tell him to come here at once without a single moment's delay. Tell him they are trying to murder Platt. Hurry, boy. Bring him back if you must kill the mule to do so!\nLawson mounts up and rides off, the mule demonstrating much speed.\nEXT. TANNER PLANTATION - LATER\nHOURS HAVE PASSED. The sun is now at its apex. Solomon remains tied and dangling exactly where he was left.\nDespite this odd and horrific sight, life on the plantation continues. The OTHER SLAVES work in the field. CHILDREN make their way playfully in the yard.\nIt should all underscore the fact that a black, hanging even partially from a tree, is nothing unusual in this time and space.\nChapin walks back and forth with the pistols in his hands. Clearly he fears Tibeats returning with more and better assistance. And yet, he does nothing to alleviate Solomon's suffering. He heeds Tibeats words, and as though caught up in the middle of nothing more than a property dispute, he offers no further aid.\nEXT. TANNER PLANTATION - LATER\nSolomon continues to hang. By now he is drenched in sweat, and nearly delirious with dehydration. His lips dry and parched. He may not die from hanging, but he may very well expire before the day is over.\nEventually Rachel comes over timidly, and as though she were acting contrary to orders and offers a drink of water from a tin cup, pouring it in Solomon's mouth for him. She then takes a small hand towel and dabs at the water which clings to his lips.\nShe then retreats, and leaves Solomon to hang.\nEXT. TANNER PLANTATION - EVENING\nThe sun is just now arching for the horizon. Solomon remains, as though his torture will not end. Ford, trailed by the slave Lawson, finally comes riding up. He dismounts, and moves swiftly over to Solomon. With great heartache:\nFORD\nPlatt -- My poor Platt.\nFord produces a blade and cuts Solomon loose. Solomon attempts to carry himself, but he cannot. He falls to the ground and passes out.\nINT. TANNER PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - NIGHT\nAs we come into the scene, Solomon lays on a blanket on the floor. Eventually, his eyes flutter, then open. He is in the foyer of the Tanner house. As he gets his bearings, he looks around the interior. THE SPACE IS HANDSOME, AND WELL DECORATED.\nIt is sharp contrast to the bleak surroundings, shacks and dungeons Solomon has largely been accustom to during his time of slavery. It will be the \"first and last time such a sumptuous resting place was granted\" during his twelve years of bondage.\nSolomon doesn't have much chance to luxuriate in his surroundings. He hears a DOG BARKING just outside, and is unnerved. Has Tibeats returned to finish what he started?\nFrom a study, Master Ford appears with a gun in hand. He goes to the door, opens it and looks outside. He can see nothing. Satisfied, Ford crosses back over to Solomon.\nHe is frank with Solomon regarding the situation.\nFORD\nI believe Tibeats is skulkin' about the premises somewhere, too cowardly to show himself for a proper confrontation. He will in time. Tibeats wants you dead, and he will attempt to have you so. It's no longer safe for you here.\nSOLOMON\nMaster Ford, I am willing to work. I will proceed with all my labors and more, but I beg that you take me from this hateful place.\nFORD\nI cannot protect you.\nSOLOMON\nMaster, please --\nFORD\nAnd I don't believe you will remain passive if Tibeats attacks. To strike him again is to warrant your death from all corners. It is best for you to go. I have transferred my debt to Edwin Epps. He will take charge of you. He is a hard man. Prides himself on being a \"nigger breaker.\" But truthfully I could find no others who would have you. You've made a reputation of yourself. A notorious one as a slave of both mind and will. You are an exceptional nigger, Platt. I fear no good will come of it.\nBLACK\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - BARN - DAY\nEDWIN EPPS is a large, portly, heavy-bodied man with light hair, high cheekbones and a Roman nose of extraordinary dimensions. He has blue eyes, a fair complexion and is full six feet high. His manners are repulsive and coarse, and his language gives speedy and unequivocal evidence that he has never enjoyed the advantages of an education.\nHe reads the Bible to his slaves, eight of them altogether. ABRAM; a tall, older slave of about sixty years. WILEY, who is forty eight. PHEBE, who is married to Wiley. BOB and HENRY who are Phebe's children, EDWARD and PATSEY. Patsey is young, just 23 years old -- though in the era, 23 not as young as in the present day. She is the offspring of a \"Guinea nigger,\" brought over to Cuba in a slave ship. She nearly brims with unconversant sexuality.\nMISTRESS EPPS, Epps's wife, is also present.\nThough Epps reads the word of the Lord, he lacks the tone of compassion with which Ford read.\nEPPS\n\"And that servant which knew his Lord's will -- WHICH KNEW HIS LORD'S WILL and prepared not himself -- PREPARED NOT HIMSELF, neither did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes\" D'ye hear that? \"Stripes.\" That nigger that don't take care, that don't obey his lord - that's his master - d'ye see? - that 'ere nigger shall be beaten with many stripes. Now, \"many\" signifies a great many. Forty, a hundred, a hundred and fifty lashes -- That's Scripter!\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE CABIN - MORNING\nThe cabin is constructed of logs, without floor or window. The rude door hangs on great wooden hinges. In one end is constructed an awkward fireplace.\nThe sun has not yet even broken the horizon as a HORN IS BLOWN from the Great House. Slaves rise, clearly weary from their \"joyful\" night of dancing.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - DAY\nIt is August, \"cotton picking\" season.\nWe are looking out over a cotton field in full bloom. It presents a visual purity, like an immaculate expanse of light, new-fallen snow. The cotton grows from five to seven feet high, each stalk having a great many branches shooting out in all directions and lapping each other above the water furrow.\nThere is a slave to each side of the row. They have a sack around their necks that hangs to the ground, the mouth of the sack about breast high. Baskets are placed at the end of the furrows. Slaves dump their sacks of cotton in the baskets, then pick until their sacks are again filled.\nSolomon, as with the other slaves, is picking cotton. It is hard, harsh back breaking work. Clearly he's not \"skilled\" at the chore - he moves along slowly and does not pick with any particular dexterity.\nPatsey, on the other hand, is the \"queen of the field.\"\nShe moves through the rows at speed, expertly picking the cotton.\nTHE SOUNDTRACK TO THE SCENE IS NOTHING MORE THAN THE RUSTLE OF LABOR, THE MALE CICADAS BUGS \"TYMBALS\" IN THE HEAT and a SPIRITUAL SUNG BY THE SLAVES.\nDespite the heat, there is no stopping for water. The slaves are \"driven\" by Edward, who is himself \"driven\" by Treach.\nTREACH\nC'mon. Drive dem niggers.\nEdward moves among the slaves, applying the whip to them without regard.\nEDWARD\nPick dat cotton. Move along now, hear?\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GIN HOUSE - EVENING\nThe day's work is done. The slaves are now assembled in the gin house with their baskets of cotton which are being weighed by Treach. There is anxiety among the slave, the reason for which soon becomes apparent.\nTREACH\nTwo hundred forty pounds for Bob.\nEPPS\nWhat yah got for James?\nTREACH\nTwo hundred ninety five pounds.\nEPPS\nTha's real good, boy. Tha's real good.\nTREACH\nOne hundred eighty two pounds for Platt.\nEpps does not look happy. Treach says again:\nTREACH\nOne hundred eighty two.\nEPPS\nHow much can even an average nigger pick a day?\nTREACH\nTwo hundred pounds.\nEPPS\nThis nigger ain't even average.\nEpps pulls Solomon aside.\nTREACH\nFive hundred twelve pounds for Patsey.\nEPPS\nFive hundred twelve. Yah men folk got no shame lettin' Patsey out pick yah? The day ain't yet come she swung lower than five hundred pounds. Queen of the fields, she is.\nTREACH\nTwo hundred six pou--\nEPPS\nI ain't done, Treach. Ain't I owed a minute to luxuriate on the work Patsey done?\nTREACH\nSir --\nEPPS\nDamned Queen. Born and bred to the field. A nigger among niggers, and God give 'er to me. A lesson in the rewards of righteous livin'. All be observant ta that. All!\nbeat\nNow, Treach. Now speak.\nTREACH\nOne hundred thirty eight pounds for Phebe.\nEPPS\nHit one forty five yesterday. Pull her out.\nTREACH\nTwo hundred six pounds for Abram.\nEPPS\nHow much he pick yesterday?\nTREACH\nTwo hundred twenty nine pounds.\nAbram is pulled from the line, huddled with Solomon.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - YARD - EVENING\nA flogging is going on. Solomon, Phebe, and Abram are stripped and now being given a perfunctory whipping delivered by Epps.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - EVENING\nEvening, but the day is not yet done. Slaves attend their various evening chores; feeding livestock, doing laundry, cooking food. There is no respite from a slave's charge.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nA fire is kindled in the cabin. The slaves finally fix their own dinner of corn meal. Corn is ground in a small hand mill. The corn meal is mixed with a little water, placed in the fire and baked. When it is \"done brown\" the ashes are scraped off. Bacon is fried. The slaves eat.\nAs they eat, Abram goes on in great length and with much emotion about General Jackson.\nUNCLE ABRAM\nHold my words: General Jackson will forever be immortalized. His bravery will be handed down to the last posterity. If ever there be a stain upon \"raw militia,\" he done wiped away on the eighth of January. I say da result a that day's battle is of 'mo importance to our grand nation than any occurrence 'fo or since. Great man. Great man indeed. We all need pray to Heavenly Father da General reign over us always.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - SLAVE SHACK - NIGHT\nThe slaves are sleeping. There is a loud commotion.\nEpps enters, drunkenly, forcing the slaves awake.\nEPPS\nGet up! Get up, we dance tonight! We will not waste the evenin' with yer laziness. Get up.\nINT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - MAIN HOUSE - NIGHT\nDespite the lateness of the hour, the slaves are up and now fully dressed. They take up position in the middle of the floor. They wait, poised like actors.\nSolomon strikes up a tune and the slaves dance. They do so very wearily. The whole of it certainly more torture than pleasure.\nEpps, whip in hand:\nEPPS\nWhere's yah merriment? Move yer feet.\nAs the slaves twirl about Epps keeps an attentive eye on Patsey. It should be quite clear that his primary motivation for holding dances is so that he may view Patsey twirl about the floor.\nThis fact is not lost on the Mistress Epps. A few moments of Epps's lust on display is all that the Mistress can bear. Jealousy mounting, she snatches up a CARAFE. With all her might she throws it at Patsey. It hits Patsey square in the face.\nTOO THICK TO SHATTER, IT LEAVES HER BLOODY AND WRITHING ON THE FLOOR. The dancing, the music stop. The slaves, however, react as though it is not the first time they've seen as much from the Mistress.\nMistress Epps, screaming like a hellion:\nMISTRESS EPPS\nSell her!\nEPPS\nC'mon, now. Wha's this?\nMISTRESS EPPS\nYou will sell the negress!\nEPPS\nYou're talkin' foolish. Sell little Pats? She pick with more vigor than any other nigger! Choose another ta go.\nMISTRESS EPPS\nNo other. Sell her!\nEPPS\nI will not!\nMISTRESS EPPS\nYou will remove that black bitch from this property, 'er I'll take myself back to Cheneyville.\nEPPS\nOh, the idleness of that yarn washes over me. Do not set yourself up against Patsey, my dear. That's a wager you will lose. Calm yerself. And settle for my affection, 'cause my affection you got. Or, go. 'Cause I will rid myself of yah well before I do away with her!\nMistress Epps stands irate, lost in fury and unable to even think of what to do. Eventually, optionless, she storms away.\nFor a few beats there is only the sound of Patsey sobbing.\nEPPS\nThat damned woman! I won't have my mood spoiled. I will not. Dance!\nEpps sends the whip in Solomon's direction. Solomon responds by playing.\nTreach literally drags the prone Patsey from the floor, blood still spilling from her face. The slaves, as ordered, return to dancing.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - MORNING\nThe sun has only just risen above the horizon. FROM THE GREAT HOUSE THE HORN IS BLOWN signaling the start of another day.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - FIELD - DAY\nSlaves are in the field picking cotton. They accompany their work with a SPIRITUAL.\nEXT. MASTER EPPS'S PLANTATION - GREAT HOUSE - LATER\nAs the slaves make their way in from the field, the Mistress calls to Solomon. SHE HAS A PIECE OF PAPER IN HAND.\nMISTRESS EPPS\nPlatt --\nSOLOMON"

"101faa9126589e7e32b9a3388448579c2084e90eb9bc918d7656579087ef20474"

"EXT. ANIMAL PEN - DAY\nWe are outside of a smallish animal pen. It sits in back of some wooden structures. The build and design is that of early 19th century American. It would pass for urban and commercial as opposed to agrarian. Within the pen we see SEVERAL SHEEP grazing.\nInto the pen walks a BUTCHER. He is a white man in his mid-forties. Without any particular regard he takes up one of the sheep, and wrestles it into a shack-like structure.\nINT. ABATTOIR - LATER\nThe shack is a smallish abattoir. We see the Butcher sitting on a bench next to the sheep. With sheers in hand, the Butcher clears the wool from the sheep.\nOnce the sheep is clean, in a very matter of fact manner, the Butcher binds the sheep's rear legs, slits its throat, then hangs it upside down allowing for the animal to bleed out. The butcher then pulls the intestine from the animal immediately after slaughter while the gut is still hot. These bundles are put into large containers and await collection by the DRESSER.\nINT. DRESSER'S - DAY\nWe see now the DRESSER taking the casings from a pot of cold water. He then removes all membranes except for the muscle fibers. The casing is now ready for sorting; the casing is checked for length, color and general condition.\nSelected casings are grouped together in HANKS.\nINT. STRING MAKER'S - DAY\nWe see now a STRING MAKER working with the hanks, using a BLADE to split them into RIBBONS. The next step is to whiten the gut with sulphur fumes before they are combed through straightening the ribbons.\nLastly, the String Maker takes some strings and WRAPS THEM IN A VERY NEAT LITTLE PACKAGE.\nEXT. STREET - AFTERNOON\nThe String Maker walks the package along the streets of Saratoga, New York. It is best known as the location that British General John Burgoyne surrendered to American General Horatio Gates at the end of the Battles of Saratoga on October 17, 1777, often cited as the turning point for the United States during the American Revolutionary War.\nThe town line is formed by the Hudson River and is the border of Washington County. Fish Creek, a tributary of the Hudson River, is the outflow of Saratoga Lake. It is a fairly modern township, but in the middle 1800s it is far from pristine.\nTHERE IS MUD AND MANURE EVERYWHERE, AND IT IS NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE TO KEEP ANYTHING CLEAN. This state, however, is the norm for the era and goes uncommented upon.\nThe String Maker arrives to a TOWNHOUSE. Using a KNOCKER that hangs at the door he raps, then calls to the occupant:\nSTRING MAKER\nMr. Northup? Are you there Mr. Northup?\nINT. TOWNHOUSE - STUDY - LATER\nWe are close on a PAIR OF HANDS. BLACK HANDS. They unwrap the package and display the strings.\nWE CUT TO the hands stringing a violin. It's not a high end piece, but it is quite nice.\nWE CUT TO a wide shot of the study. Sitting in a chair with violin in hand is SOLOMON NORTHUP; a man in his late twenties. Everything about Solomon, his mein and manner, is distinguished. But he, too, seems a hardy individual.\nSomeone who has known manual labor in his time.\nSolomon begins to lightly play his violin, as if testing the strings, their tuning. Satisfied, Solomon begins to play vigorously. As he does, we make a\nHARD CUT TO:\nINT. HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - EVENING\nWe come in on a lively affair. A dinner party is being thrown with the confines of a fairly stately house. In attendance are EIGHT COUPLES. All are WHITE and all are FAIRLY YOUNG, in their early twenties. The men and women are dressed in very fine attire. We should get the sense that for the most part they are people of means.\nThe furniture has been set aside in the living room. At the moment the couples are engaged in the dancing of a REEL. Most likely they would be dancing \"the reel of three,\" in which, as the name implies, three dancers weave in and out of one another, completing a figure 8 pattern on the floor, usually in six or eight bars of music.\nThe music they are dancing too is being played by Solomon, having cut directly from the tune he was previously playing. He plays with a light determination, and in no way seems possessed with empty servitude.\nSolomon concludes the reel, and the dancers break into enthusiastic applause, which is followed by thanks and congratulations by the group. It should be clear that despite their respective races there is much admiration and appreciation for Solomon's abilities.\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - BEDROOM - MORNING\nIt is a Saturday morning. Clad in her \"finest attire\" is ANNE; Solomon's wife. A few years younger than Solomon.\nShe is lighter in color than Solomon as well. We see also the Northup children: ELIZABETH, who is ten, MARGARET, eight and ALONZO who is five. They are handsome, and well groomed kids. Anne straightening up the children. She finishes, she rises up and stands behind them, almost as if preparing to pose for a portrait.\nThey all wait a moment, then Solomon enters the foyer.\nHe stands, and looks admiringly at his family.\nADMIRINGLY stressed. It isn't that he doesn't have love for them, he does as well. But in the moment, he truly admires his greatest accomplishment: a family that is healthy and well and provided for. He goes to his children, and hands each a coin.\nHe moves, then, to Anne. Gives her a kiss on the cheek.\nThe children giggle at the sight.\nEXT. STREET - DAY\nSolomon and his family are now out walking along the streets and groves of Saratoga.\nThe streets are well populated this morning with many people out strolling. Most are WHITE, but there are BLACKS as well. They are FREED BLACKS who mingle fairly easily though not always completely with the whites.\nWe see, too, a few BLACK SLAVES who travel with their WHITE MASTERS. These pairings are largely from the south and despite the fact the blacks are slaves, they are not physically downtrodden, not field hands. They are well dressed and \"leading apparently an easy life\" - comparatively speaking, as they trail their masters.\nAmong the slaves, we see one in particular; JASPER. As he trails his MASTER he can't help but note Solomon and his family as they make their way INTO A STORE. His intrigue of this most handsome and harmonious group should be obvious.\nWith his Master occupied, Jasper moves slyly toward Parker's store. Clearly his intent is to have dealings with the Northup's.\nINT. STORE - LATER\nWe are inside the store of MR. CEPHAS PARKER, a supplier of general goods. Solomon greets him with:\nSOLOMON\nMr. Parker.\nPARKER\nMr. Northup. Mrs. Northup.\nThough little is stated, their is clearly familiarity among them.\nWith money in hand the Northup children move quickly about the store looking for items to purchase.\nAt the checkout counter sits a portrait of WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON, the edges draped in black crepe. Before the book sits a LEDGER. Mr. Parker asks of Solomon:\nPARKER\nIf you would, Mr. Northup, sign our condolence book. My hope is to find a way to forward it to the Widow Harrison. Sad days for the nation.\nSOLOMON\nBut brighter times ahead.\nAs Anne looks over some silks and fabrics, Solomon eyes a new violin. He asks of Parker:\nSOLOMON\nMay I?\nPARKER\nIt would be my pleasure. Could I trouble you for a waltz, sir?\nSolomon does a quick tuning of the instrument, then into a waltz; lively and well played. The Elizabeth and Margaret clasp hands and dance. There is laughter and smiles.\nAs Solomon plays, Jasper enters the store. He stands for a moment, again in seeming admiration of Solomon. While far from pathetic, Jasper is the definition of a subservient man.\nAs Solomon concludes to the applause of Parker and the children:\nJASPER\nSuh -- A word, suh? I could not help none but take note of yahself and yah family as yah made yah way. My congratulations to yah. Yah Missus and chil'ren be very\nhandsome 'n must be'a great regard. My name, suh, is Jasper. I am travelin' to Saratoga with my massa. Massa Fitzgerald. And I will insist to yah, suh, that I am well provided fo'. Yah can see that jus by my adornments. And I never want for no meal or 'fo warmth at night. Massa Fitzgerald is a fine man. Very fine.\nJasper looks to Parker, then steps closer to Solomon and speaks a bit conspiratorially. The following comes from him as though it is a thought he has wrestled with for some time:\nJASPER\nBut it is my desire I should not spend my life in his servitude. It is my quiet desire that I should have a missus of my choosin', raise up young'n and provide 'fo 'em as I sees fit. It is a desire I keep inside me, and easily so, when I am south. Freedom at best a fleetin' notion. But on travels north, if I can be true; I can hardly contain my wantin' for liberty. I am anxious for it. I am anxious to escape. But I am anxious all the same of the punishment that would attend my recapture. My question to you, suh, is of the best and surest method of effecting my flight.\nSOLOMON\nThe only answer I can give -- Watch your opportunities and strike for freedom.\nJASPER\nWhat opportunities? And how shall I take advantage of them?\nSolomon isn't sure how to respond. It's easy to speak of freedom, but not how it is gained.\nWE HEAR THE BELL AT THE DOOR. It's Jasper's Master.\nHe's stern, clearly displeased.\nFITZGERALD\nJasper! Jasper, come along.\nto Parker\nI apologize for any intrusion, sir.\nSOLOMON\nNo, intrusion.\nFitzgerald looks to Solomon. It is a cold glare as though he wasn't speaking to, and has no interest in a response from a black man. Looking back to Parker:\nFITZGERALD\nGood day, sir.\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - DINING ROOM - EVENING\nThe family now sits around the dinner table, the meal mostly finished. Solomon, the very definition of a man in repose - sits at the head of the table reading from a NEWSPAPER. He reads to the rest of the family solemn news of the funeral arrangements for the recently deceased President Harrison.\nSOLOMON\n\"Thus has passed away from earth our late President. His voice was still fresh in the ears of his countrymen when it was hushed in death. The tongue of calumny had not time to poison his fame. He has passed from the praise of men to receive the plaudit of his heavenly Father. Let us in this bereavement bow meekly to the divine will, and hear the voice of the Sovereign of the Sovereign saying be still and be with God.\"\nA long moment of quiet, the family continuing to eat.\nThen, from Elizabeth:\nELIZABETH\nWill you read it again?\nSolomon starts from the top of the article.\nSOLOMON\n\"During the morning, from sunrise, the heavy bells had been pealing forth their slow and solemn toll while the minute guns announced that soon the grave would receive its trust. Our city as well as our entire nation has been called to weep over the fall of a great and good man. One who was by the wishes of a large majority of our people raised to fill the highest place of trust within their gift. William Henry Harrison, the first chief magistrate who has died during his term of service.\"\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - CHILDREN'S ROOM - NIGHT\nThe children are put to bed by both Solomon and Anne.\nThey are tucked in, and each given a kiss good night.\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT\nSolomon and Anne are now preparing for bed themselves.\nAnne washing her face in a basin as Solomon changes into his night clothes. The limited interaction of the two should be very perfunctory. Like many married couples they've just become very accustomed to one another.\nEXT. NORTHUP HOUSE - MORNING\nWe are just outside the Northup house. A CARRIAGE waits with a DRIVER. Anne and the children are dressed for travel as the Driver loads bags into the carriage.\nAnne gives her husband a kiss.\nSOLOMON\nTravel safely.\nANNE\nStay safely.\nAnne and the children load up. The Driver chides the horse, and the carriage heads off. Solomon waves a hearty good bye to his wife and children.\nEXT. STREET - DAY\nSolomon is now out for a stroll. As he crosses near MR. MOON'S TAVERN, he passes two men, two in particular, who stand outside conversing with MR. MOON himself: MERRILL BROWN and ABRAM HAMILTON. Brown is about 40, with a countenance indicating shrewdness and intelligence. Hamilton is closer to 25, a man of fair complexion and light eyes. Both are finely, if perhaps a bit garishly, dressed. Hamilton, as Solomon describes him, slightly effeminate.\nMoon, spotting Solomon:\nMR. MOON\nCall the Devil's name -- There he is now. Mr. Northup -- I have two gentlemen who should make your acquaintance. Messrs. Brown and Hamilton.\nBROWN\nSir.\nMR. MOON\nMr. Northup, these two gentlemen were inquiring about distinguished individuals, and I was just this very moment telling them that Solomon Northup is an expert player on the violin.\nHAMILTON\nHe was indeed.\nBROWN\nTaking into consideration his graciousness and your modesty, may we trouble you for a moment of your time to converse, sir?\nINT. MR. MOON'S TAVERN - LATER\nWe make a jump cut into the tavern. Solomon, Brown and Hamilton are sitting at a table. Brown and Hamilton drink lightly. Solomon abstains.\nSOLOMON\nA circus?\nHAMILTON\nThat is our usual employee. The company currently in the city of Washington.\nBROWN\nCircus too constricting a word to describe the talented and merry band with which we travel. It is a spectacle unlike most have ever witnessed. Creatures from the darkest Africa as yet unseen by civilized man. Acrobats from the Orient able to contort themselves in the most confounding manners. Men of great strength --\nHAMILTON\nAnd Mr. Brown himself; an internationally renowned pantomimist.\nBROWN\nYou are too kind.\nHAMILTON\nAs your talents are too great.\nBROWN\nWe are on our way thither to rejoin the company having left for a short time to make an excursion northward for the purpose of seeing the country, our expenses paid by an occasional exhibition.\nHAMILTON\nThe reason for our inquiry with Mr. Moon --\nBROWN\nYes. We had just a devil of a time in procuring music for our entertainments. Men of true talent seemingly in short supply. As we were discussing our predicament, Mr. Moon suggested we make acquaintance with you, praising your skills at every opportunity.\nSOLOMON\nGentlemen --\nBROWN\nWe offer this, desperate as we are; If you could accompany us as far as New York -- We would give you one dollar for each day's service and three dollars for every night played at our performances. In addition we would provide sufficient pay for the expenses of your return from New York here to Saratoga.\nHAMILTON\nAn opportunity to see the country with the occasional exhibition from which to accrue expenses. If there is any way in which you would give consideration to the offer --\nSOLOMON\nenthusiastically\nI will give more than consideration. I will agree. Immediately. The payment offered is enticement enough, as is my desire to visit the metropolis.\nBoth Brown and Hamilton display broad smiles:\nHAMILTON\nWe are delighted, sir. So delighted. Though we would add that our travel plans--\nBROWN\nWe would like to depart with haste. However, it is understood if there are arrangements you need to attend to.\nSOLOMON\nAs luck would have it, my wife and children are traveling. I will write her of our plans, then we may go.\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - BEDROOM - LATER\nBack in his house, we see Solomon packing: putting some clothes in a travel case, and collecting his violin as well.\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - STUDY - LATER\nSolomon sits down to write a letter; pen poised over paper with already a few lines written. But Solomon thinks better of it.\nWITH LITTLE THOUGHT HE TEARS THE PAPER AND SETS IT ASIDE. WE SHOULD GET THE SENSE THAT THE ABSOLUTE VALUE OF BEING ABLE TO COMMUNICATE BY LETTER IS LOST ON SOLOMON. THIS FACT WILL HAVE GREAT WEIGHT IN THE NEAR FUTURE.\nEXT. NORTHUP HOUSE - LATER\nSolomon is exiting. Brown and Hamilton are waiting.\nThey ride in a covered carriage led by a pair of \"noble\" horses.\nHAMILTON\nNo letter to post?\nSOLOMON\nNo need. My return would be as soon as my family's.\nBROWN\nWe're off then.\nINT. PUB - EVENING\nWe find ourselves in a roadside pub. It serves the purpose of drinking and diversion, and little more. This is the locale at which Brown and Hamilton are currently engaged in putting on one of their \"entertainments.\"\nWe see Hamilton at the door, collecting receipts. WHAT LITTLE AUDIENCE THERE IS, IS ALREADY IN PLACE. There is nothing more for Hamilton to collect. Brown is at the head of the space entertaining a PARSE AUDIENCE AND NOT OF \"SELECT CHARACTER.\" Solomon provides the music on his violin.\nAs Solomon plays, Brown goes through and act of pantomiming the throwing of balls, dancing on a rope, frying pancakes in a hat, causing invisible pigs to squeal. Basically it's some pretty lame stuff. Not nearly the calibre one would expect to find as part of a great \"carnival.\"\nINT. BOARDING HOUSE - LATER\nSolomon, Hamilton and Brown sit down to eat. Hamilton and Brown drink, but again Solomon abstains. Though Solomon remains cool, Hamilton and Brown put up a great show of being disappointed as Hamilton counts out what little money was collected.\nHAMILTON\nIf it's not anything, it's next to it.\nBROWN\nI have not seen an audience so sparse --\nHAMILTON\nNot an additional tip from a one of them. They expect to be entertained for nothing.\nBROWN\nAnd not satisfied a bit despite giving them more than what they paid for.\nSOLOMON\nIt's the national mood. There's too much grief to make room for frivolity.\nBROWN\nI think we won't see a true audience until Washington. We should make it our objective to return with all due speed.\nHAMILTON\nMy sincerest apologies, Solomon.\nSOLOMON\nNo need.\nHAMILTON\nYou were promised opportunity, and you were given none.\nBROWN\nThe opportunity is with the circus. A two man show poorly promoted, what were we to expect? But the circus bills itself.\nHAMILTON\nTrue.\nBROWN\nIt arrives to each town with a hoopla and leaves with a flourish.\nHAMILTON\nVery true.\nBROWN\nAnd with the summer season approaching it's tour will be vigorous. I have told you of the circus with which we are connected. Creatures from the darkest of Africa. Acrobats from the Orient who--"

"The family now sits around the dinner table, the meal mostly finished. Solomon, the very definition of a man in repose - sits at the head of the table reading from a NEWSPAPER. He reads to the rest of the family solemn news of the funeral arrangements for the recently deceased President Harrison.\nSOLOMON\n\"Thus has passed away from earth our late President. His voice was still fresh in the ears of his countrymen when it was hushed in death. The tongue of calumny had not time to poison his fame. He has passed from the praise of men to receive the plaudit of his heavenly Father. Let us in this bereavement bow meekly to the divine will, and hear the voice of the Sovereign of the Sovereign saying be still and be with God.\"\nA long moment of quiet, the family continuing to eat.\nThen, from Elizabeth:\nELIZABETH\nWill you read it again?\nSolomon starts from the top of the article.\nSOLOMON\n\"During the morning, from sunrise, the heavy bells had been pealing forth their slow and solemn toll while the minute guns announced that soon the grave would receive its trust. Our city as well as our entire nation has been called to weep over the fall of a great and good man. One who was by the wishes of a large majority of our people raised to fill the highest place of trust within their gift. William Henry Harrison, the first chief magistrate who has died during his term of service.\"\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - CHILDREN'S ROOM - NIGHT\nThe children are put to bed by both Solomon and Anne.\nThey are tucked in, and each given a kiss good night.\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT\nSolomon and Anne are now preparing for bed themselves.\nAnne washing her face in a basin as Solomon changes into his night clothes. The limited interaction of the two should be very perfunctory. Like many married couples they've just become very accustomed to one another.\nEXT. NORTHUP HOUSE - MORNING\nWe are just outside the Northup house. A CARRIAGE waits with a DRIVER. Anne and the children are dressed for travel as the Driver loads bags into the carriage.\nAnne gives her husband a kiss.\nSOLOMON\nTravel safely.\nANNE\nStay safely.\nAnne and the children load up. The Driver chides the horse, and the carriage heads off. Solomon waves a hearty good bye to his wife and children.\nEXT. STREET - DAY\nSolomon is now out for a stroll. As he crosses near MR. MOON'S TAVERN, he passes two men, two in particular, who stand outside conversing with MR. MOON himself: MERRILL BROWN and ABRAM HAMILTON. Brown is about 40, with a countenance indicating shrewdness and intelligence. Hamilton is closer to 25, a man of fair complexion and light eyes. Both are finely, if perhaps a bit garishly, dressed. Hamilton, as Solomon describes him, slightly effeminate.\nMoon, spotting Solomon:\nMR. MOON\nCall the Devil's name -- There he is now. Mr. Northup -- I have two gentlemen who should make your acquaintance. Messrs. Brown and Hamilton.\nBROWN\nSir.\nMR. MOON\nMr. Northup, these two gentlemen were inquiring about distinguished individuals, and I was just this very moment telling them that Solomon Northup is an expert player on the violin.\nHAMILTON\nHe was indeed.\nBROWN\nTaking into consideration his graciousness and your modesty, may we trouble you for a moment of your time to converse, sir?\nINT. MR. MOON'S TAVERN - LATER\nWe make a jump cut into the tavern. Solomon, Brown and Hamilton are sitting at a table. Brown and Hamilton drink lightly. Solomon abstains.\nSOLOMON\nA circus?\nHAMILTON\nThat is our usual employee. The company currently in the city of Washington.\nBROWN\nCircus too constricting a word to describe the talented and merry band with which we travel. It is a spectacle unlike most have ever witnessed. Creatures from the darkest Africa as yet unseen by civilized man. Acrobats from the Orient able to contort themselves in the most confounding manners. Men of great strength --\nHAMILTON\nAnd Mr. Brown himself; an internationally renowned pantomimist.\nBROWN\nYou are too kind.\nHAMILTON\nAs your talents are too great.\nBROWN\nWe are on our way thither to rejoin the company having left for a short time to make an excursion northward for the purpose of seeing the country, our expenses paid by an occasional exhibition.\nHAMILTON\nThe reason for our inquiry with Mr. Moon --\nBROWN\nYes. We had just a devil of a time in procuring music for our entertainments. Men of true talent seemingly in short supply. As we were discussing our predicament, Mr. Moon suggested we make acquaintance with you, praising your skills at every opportunity.\nSOLOMON\nGentlemen --\nBROWN\nWe offer this, desperate as we are; If you could accompany us as far as New York -- We would give you one dollar for each day's service and three dollars for every night played at our performances. In addition we would provide sufficient pay for the expenses of your return from New York here to Saratoga.\nHAMILTON\nAn opportunity to see the country with the occasional exhibition from which to accrue expenses. If there is any way in which you would give consideration to the offer --\nSOLOMON\nenthusiastically\nI will give more than consideration. I will agree. Immediately. The payment offered is enticement enough, as is my desire to visit the metropolis.\nBoth Brown and Hamilton display broad smiles:\nHAMILTON\nWe are delighted, sir. So delighted. Though we would add that our travel plans--\nBROWN\nWe would like to depart with haste. However, it is understood if there are arrangements you need to attend to.\nSOLOMON\nAs luck would have it, my wife and children are traveling. I will write her of our plans, then we may go.\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - BEDROOM - LATER\nBack in his house, we see Solomon packing: putting some clothes in a travel case, and collecting his violin as well.\nINT. NORTHUP HOUSE - STUDY - LATER\nSolomon sits down to write a letter; pen poised over paper with already a few lines written. But Solomon thinks better of it.\nWITH LITTLE THOUGHT HE TEARS THE PAPER AND SETS IT ASIDE. WE SHOULD GET THE SENSE THAT THE ABSOLUTE VALUE OF BEING ABLE TO COMMUNICATE BY LETTER IS LOST ON SOLOMON. THIS FACT WILL HAVE GREAT WEIGHT IN THE NEAR FUTURE.\nEXT. NORTHUP HOUSE - LATER\nSolomon is exiting. Brown and Hamilton are waiting.\nThey ride in a covered carriage led by a pair of \"noble\" horses.\nHAMILTON\nNo letter to post?\nSOLOMON\nNo need. My return would be as soon as my family's.\nBROWN\nWe're off then.\nINT. PUB - EVENING\nWe find ourselves in a roadside pub. It serves the purpose of drinking and diversion, and little more. This is the locale at which Brown and Hamilton are currently engaged in putting on one of their \"entertainments.\"\nWe see Hamilton at the door, collecting receipts. WHAT LITTLE AUDIENCE THERE IS, IS ALREADY IN PLACE. There is nothing more for Hamilton to collect. Brown is at the head of the space entertaining a PARSE AUDIENCE AND NOT OF \"SELECT CHARACTER.\" Solomon provides the music on his violin.\nAs Solomon plays, Brown goes through and act of pantomiming the throwing of balls, dancing on a rope, frying pancakes in a hat, causing invisible pigs to squeal. Basically it's some pretty lame stuff. Not nearly the calibre one would expect to find as part of a great \"carnival.\"\nINT. BOARDING HOUSE - LATER\nSolomon, Hamilton and Brown sit down to eat. Hamilton and Brown drink, but again Solomon abstains. Though Solomon remains cool, Hamilton and Brown put up a great show of being disappointed as Hamilton counts out what little money was collected.\nHAMILTON\nIf it's not anything, it's next to it.\nBROWN\nI have not seen an audience so sparse --\nHAMILTON\nNot an additional tip from a one of them. They expect to be entertained for nothing.\nBROWN\nAnd not satisfied a bit despite giving them more than what they paid for.\nSOLOMON\nIt's the national mood. There's too much grief to make room for frivolity.\nBROWN\nI think we won't see a true audience until Washington. We should make it our objective to return with all due speed.\nHAMILTON\nMy sincerest apologies, Solomon.\nSOLOMON\nNo need.\nHAMILTON\nYou were promised opportunity, and you were given none.\nBROWN\nThe opportunity is with the circus. A two man show poorly promoted, what were we to expect? But the circus bills itself.\nHAMILTON\nTrue.\nBROWN\nIt arrives to each town with a hoopla and leaves with a flourish.\nHAMILTON\nVery true.\nBROWN\nAnd with the summer season approaching it's tour will be vigorous. I have told you of the circus with which we are connected. Creatures from the darkest of Africa. Acrobats from the Orient who--\nSOLOMON\nYou have described it, yes.\nBROWN\nMagical. It is simply magical. A constant whirlwind of sights and sounds. All witnessed by a crush of humanity, excitement spilling from their hearts. Yes. We need to return immediately to Washington. Solomon -- I believe us familiar enough now, but forgive me if I am bold -- would you consider making the trip with us?\nSolomon gives a bit of a laugh at the idea.\nBROWN\nI realize our promises have fallen short to this point, but I can guarantee high wages and an enthusiastic audience.\nHAMILTON\nEntertaining at pubs and inns has it's place, but a man of your skills deserves better.\nBROWN\nHear, hear.\nHAMILTON\nAnd more importantly you would build your own name and following. 12 Years a Slave 05.18.11 13. HAMILTON\nThe circus tends to attract those with the highest of reputations. An introduction here and there could amount to a lifetime of reward. Now would be the time. With your family away, an opportunity presents"

"101faa9126589e7e32b9a3388448579c2084e90eb9bc918d7656579087ef20473"

"10000000003"

"Third"

"101faa9126589e7e32b9a3388448579c2084e90eb9bc918d7656579087ef20472"

"10000000002"

"Second"

"101faa9126589e7e32b9a3388448579c2084e90eb9bc918d7656579087ef20471"

"10000000001"

"First"