_Custis_: No, you not slave. You servant, but you free body. That very mighty thing. A poor servant, born free.

_Susan_: Yes, but look here, are you pitying me, with your poor servant?

_Custis_: Pity? No. I think you very mighty.

_Susan_: Well, I don't know so much about mighty. But I expect you're right. It isn't every one that rises to the White House.

_Custis_: It not every one that is free body. That is why you mighty.

_Susan_: I've never thought much about it.

_Custis:_ I think always about it.

_Susan_: I suppose you're free, aren't you?

_Custis_: Yes. Not born free. I was beaten when I a little n.i.g.g.e.r. I saw my mother--I will not remember what I saw.

_Susan_: I'm sorry, Mr. Custis. That was wrong.

_Custis_: Yes. Wrong.

_Susan_: Are all nig--I mean are all black gentlemen like you?

_Custis_: No. I have advantages. They not many have advantages.

_Susan_: No, I suppose not. Here's Mr. Lincoln coming.

LINCOLN, _coated after his heart's desire, comes to the door_. CUSTIS _rises_. This is the gentleman you said, sir.

_She goes out with the tray.

Lincoln:_ Mr. Custis, I'm very glad to see you. _He offers his hand_.

CUSTIS _takes it, and is about to kiss it_. LINCOLN _stops him gently.

(Sitting):_ Sit down, will you? _Custis (still standing, keeping his hat in his hand):_ It very kind of Mista Lincoln ask me to come to see him.

_Lincoln_: I was afraid you might refuse.

_Custis:_ A little shy? Yes. But so much to ask Glad to come.

_Lincoln_: Please sit down.

_Custis_: Polite?

_Lincoln_: Please. I can't sit myself, you see, if you don't.

_Custis_: Black, black. White, white.

_Lincoln_: Nonsense. Just two old men, sitting together (CUSTIS _sits to_ LINCOLN'S _gesture_)--and talking.

_Custis_: I think I older man than Mista Lincoln.

_Lincoln_: Yes, I expect you are, I'm fifty-four.

_Custis_: I seventy-two.

_Lincoln_: I hope I shall look as young when I'm seventy-two.

_Custis_: Cold water. Much walk. Believe in Lord Jesus Christ. Have always little herbs learnt when a little n.i.g.g.e.r. Mista Lincoln try.

Very good.

_He hands a small twist of paper to_ LINCOLN.

_Lincoln_: Now, that's uncommon kind of you. Thank you. I've heard much about your preaching, Mr. Custis.

_Custis_: Yes.

_Lincoln_: I should like to hear you.

_Custis_: Mista Lincoln great friend of my people.

_Lincoln_: I have come at length to a decision.

_Custis_: A decision?

_Lincoln_: Slavery is going. We have been resolved always to confine it. Now it shall be abolished.

_Custis_: You sure?

_Lincoln_: Sure.

CUSTIS _slowly stands up, bows his head, and sits again_.

_Custis_: My people much to learn. Years, and years, and years.

Ignorant, frightened, suspicious people. It will be difficult, very slow. (_With growing pa.s.sion_.) But born free bodies. Free. I born slave, Mista Lincoln. No man understand who not born slave.

_Lincoln_: Yes, yes. I understand.

_Custis (with his normal regularity)_: I think so. Yes.

_Lincoln_: I should like you to ask me any question you wish.

_Custis_: I have some complaint. Perhaps I not understand.

_Lincoln_: Tell me.

_Custis_: Southern soldiers take some black men prisoner. Black men in your uniform. Take them prisoner. Then murder them.

_Lincoln_: I know.