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As the day gets on to mid-morning, the sun already baking in the sky, Tibeats makes his way over to Solomon. Before even arriving to Solomon, his mein is one of belligerence; out of sorts and something less than sober.
TIBEATS
I thought I told yah to commence
puttin' on clapboards this morn'.
SOLOMON
Yes, master. I am about it. I
have begun on the other side of
the house.
Tibeats walks around to look over Solomon's work. He is picayune, as if purposefully looking for fault.
TIBEATS
Didn't I tell yah last night to
get a keg of nails of Chapin?
SOLOMON
Yes, master, and so I did; and
Chapin said he would get another
size for you, if you wanted them
when he came back from the field.
Tibeats walks to the keg and kicks it. Moving toward Solomon "with a great passion:"
TIBEATS
Goddamn yah! I thought yah knowed
something!
Solomon, perhaps inspired by his moment with Eliza, is in no mood for Chapin.
SOLOMON
I did as instructed. If there's
something wrong, then its wrong
with your instructions.
TIBEATS
Yah black bastard! Yah goddman
black bastard!
In an inconsolable rage, Tibeats runs off to the piazza to fetch a whip.
Solomon 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. Solomon's instinct is to run, but he stands his ground as Tibeats marches back whip in hand.
TIBEATS (CONT'D)
Strip yer clothes!
Solomon does no such thing.
TIBEATS (CONT'D)
Strip!
SOLOMON
I will not.
With "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.
TIBEATS
Yew will not live ta see another
day nigger! This is yer last, I
swear it!
Solomon ignores the threats, continues to beat Tibeats. Blow 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. Tibeats's cries of vengeance turn to yelps for help and then pleas for mercy:
TIBEATS (CONT'D)
Murder! It's murder! Lord, God,
help me. God be merciful!
Chapin comes riding in from the field fast and hard. Solomon strikes Tibeats a blow or two more, then delivers a well-directed kick that sends Tibeats rolling over the ground.
CHAPIN
What is the matter?
Tibeats struggles up and tries to present an air of dignity and control while he keeps a demonic eye on Solomon:
SOLOMON
Master Tibeats wants to whip me
for using the nails you gave me.
CHAPIN
What's the matter with the nails?
TIBEATS
They're...they're too large.
CHAPIN
I 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?
Tibeats answer is in the grinding of his teeth and the shaking of his fist.
TIBEATS
This ain't half over. I will have
my satisfaction.
Tibeats 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.
A moment more, and Tibeats exits the house. He saddles his horse and rides off to beat the devil. Or, worse, to fetch him.
Chapin comes running back out of the house. He is visibly excited, and when he speaks he is quite earnest. Though he tries to project reasoned emotions he gives off an air of impending trouble.
CHAPIN
Do 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.
SOLOMON
Sir--
CHAPIN
If you run, Platt, there is no
protecting you. Rachel...!
Chapin runs off to join Rachel. The two converse at a distance from Solomon, then they head off for the log kitchen.
Solomon 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.
Solomon's eyes begin to well. He has beaten a white man, and he knows that death awaits him.
A SLIGHT PAYER TO THE HEAVENS BEGINS TO FORM IN HIS THROAT, but he is too choked up to fully speak it.
Chapin has now returned to the piazza. He stands and watches, but does not move to Solomon.
Solomon waits, and waits...
WE HEAR THE SOUND OF DISTANT HOOFS which grow louder and louder in the manner of rolling thunder. It's Tibeats. He returns with two accomplices; COOK and RAMSAY. They carry with them large whips and a coil of rope.
Dismounting, they move with menace that is tinged with perverse pleasure. Tibeats orders:
TIBEATS
Cross your hands.
SOLOMON
There is no need.
TIBEATS
You resist, I swear I will break
your head and cut your black
throat. Cross your hands!
Solomon 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.
Solomon looks toward the piazza, but Chapin is now gone. Tears 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.
A rope goes around Solomon's neck, then is tossed over the branch of the tree. The trio begin to hoist Solomon. He gasps and gags as spittle flies from his mouth and the life is choked from him.
With suddenness, Chapin comes from the house brandishing a pistol in each hand - Colt Paterson .36 caliber
"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.
CHAPIN
Gentlemen... 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.
Directing his attention to Cook and Ramsay:
CHAPIN (CONT'D)
As for you two, begone. If you
have any regard for your own
safety...I say, begone!
Cook 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.
Tibeats remains, and his anger with him.
TIBEATS
Yah 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.
Tibeats 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:
CHAPIN
Run to the field. Fetch Lawson,
hurry him here and bring the brown
mule with him.
Rachel runs off. A FEW MOMENTS, then LAWSON comes running with the mule. Chapin, with much urgency:
CHAPIN (CONT'D)
You 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!
Lawson mounts up and rides off, the mule demonstrating much speed.