The GUARD exits and locks the door.
12TH JUROR: I don’t see what we’re going to prove here. The man said he saw the boy running out.
8TH JUROR: Wel, let’s see if the details bear him out. As soon as the body fel to the floor, he said, he heard footsteps upstairs running toward the front door. He heard the upstairs door open and the footsteps start down the stairs. He got to his front door as soon as he could. He swore that it couldn’t have been more than fifteen seconds.
Now, if the kil er began running immediately—
12TH JUROR: Wel, maybe he didn’t.
8TH JUROR: The old man said he did.
7TH JUROR: You know, you ought to be down in Atlantic City at that hairsplitters’
convention.
6TH JUROR: Listen, basebal, why don’t you stop making smart remarks al the time?
7TH JUROR: My friend, for your three dolars a day you’ve gotta listen to everything.
10TH JUROR: [ to the 8TH JUROR]: Wel, now that you’ve got that thing in here, what about it?
8TH JUROR [ to the FOREMAN]: May I? [ He takes the plan and puts it on a chair.]
This is the apartment in which the kil ing took place. The old man’s apartment is directly beneath it and exactly the same. Here are the el tracks. The bedroom.
Another bedroom. Bathroom. Living room. Kitchen. And this is the hal . Here’s the front door to the apartment. And here are the stairs. Now, the old man was in bed in this room. [ He indicates the front bedroom. ] He says he got up, went out into the hal , down the hal to the front door, opened it and looked out just in time to see the boy racing down the stairs. Am I right so far?
3RD JUROR: That’s the story, for the nineteenth time.
8TH JUROR: Fifteen seconds after he heard the body fal.
11TH JUROR: Correct.
8TH JUROR: His bed was at the window. It’s [ He looks closely at the plan. ] twelve feet from his bed to the bedroom door. The length of the hal is forty-three feet, six inches. Now he had to get up out of bed, walk twelve feet, open the bedroom door, walk forty-three feet and open the front door—al in fifteen seconds. Do you think he could have done it?
10TH JUROR: Sure he coulda done it.
11TH JUROR: He can only walk very slowly. They had to help him into the witness chair.
3RD JUROR: You make it sound like a long walk. It’s not.
9TH JUROR: For an old man who had a stroke it’s a long walk. The 8TH JUROR
moves his chair and sets the chair to indicate a bed.
8TH JUROR: This is the old man’s bed.
10TH JUROR: What’s going on here?
8TH JUROR: I want to try this thing. Let’s see how long it took him.
3RD JUROR: What d’you mean you want to try it? Why didn’t the kid’s lawyer bring it up, if it’s so important?
5TH JUROR: Wel, maybe he just didn’t think of it.
10TH JUROR: What d’ya mean, he didn’t think of it? You think the man’s an idiot or something. It’s an obvious thing.
5TH JUROR: Did you think of it?
10TH JUROR: Listen, smart guy. It don’t matter whether I thought of it.
FOREMAN: OK, now . . . let’s hold it down.
10TH JUROR: He didn’t bring it up because he knew the answer’d hurt his case.
Now what d’ya think of that?
FOREMAN: OK.
8TH JUROR: Al right, here’s the bed. I’m going to pace off twelve feet, the length of the bedroom. [ He paces twelve feet. ]
3RD JUROR: You’re crazy. You can’t re-create a thing like that.
11TH JUROR: I’d like to see it.
The 12TH JUROR picks up his chair and takes it to the 8TH JUROR. The 8TH
JUROR puts the chair where he is standing.
8TH JUROR: Al right, this is the bedroom door. The hal is a little over forty-three feet long. I’l pace over to that wal and back again.
The 8TH JUROR paces, counting his steps silently.
10TH JUROR: Look, this is absolutely insane. What’s the idea of wasting everybody’s time here?
8TH JUROR: . . . twelve . . . [ He stops and turns to the 10TH JUROR.] According to you it’l only take fifteen seconds. We can spare that. [ He resumes his pacing, counting to himself, and reaches the wall. ]
The others watch silently.
[ He turns and paces, counting off the rest of the distance. ] . . . thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three. OK, pass me another chair, please.
The 6TH JUROR picks up a chair and takes it to the 8TH JUROR. The 8TH JUROR
places it where he is standing.
This is the door to the outside hal and stairway. It was chain-locked according to the testimony. Who’s got a watch with a second hand?
2ND JUROR: I have.
8TH JUROR: When you want me to start, stamp your foot.
That’l be the body faling. Time me from there.
The 8TH JUROR lies down on the two chairs.
7TH JUROR: Anyone for charades?
3RD JUROR: I’ve never seen anything like this in my whole life!
8TH JUROR: OK. I’m ready.
The 2ND JUROR stares at his watch, waiting.
10TH JUROR: Come on, let’s go here.
2ND JUROR: I want to wait until the second hand reaches sixty.
They wait. The 2ND JUROR suddenly stamps his foot. The 8TH JUROR rises to a sitting position, swings his legs to the floor and stands up. The 2ND JUROR keeps his eyes on his watch. The 8TH JUROR hobbles, dragging one leg, toward the chair that serves as the bedroom door. He reaches it and pretends to open the door. He then hobbles along the simulated forty-three-foot hallway.
10TH JUROR: Come on. Snap it up. He walked twice as fast as that.
11TH JUROR: This is, I think, even more quickly than the old man walked in the courtroom.
8TH JUROR [ still hobbling]: If you think I should go faster, I wil.
The 8TH JUROR speeds up his pace slightly, reaches the wall, turns and heads for the second chair, the one simulating the door to the outer hallway.
3RD JUROR: Come on, wilya! Let’s get this kid stuff over with. They watch as the 8TH JUROR reaches the last chair. He pretends to open an imaginary chain lock and then opens the imaginary door.
8TH JUROR: Stop!
2ND JUROR: Right.
8TH JUROR: What’s the time?
2ND JUROR: Fifteen—twenty—thirty—thirty-five—forty—forty-two seconds exactly.
6TH JUROR: Forty-two seconds!
8TH JUROR: I think this is what happened. The old man heard the fight between the boy and his father a few hours earlier. Then, while lying in bed, he heard a body hit the floor in the boy’s apartment, and he heard the woman scream from across the street. He got up, tried to get to the door, heard someone racing down the stairs, and assumed it was the boy.
6TH JUROR: I think that’s possible.
3RD JUROR: Assumed? Now listen to me, you people. I’ve seen al kinds of dishonesty in my day—but this little display takes the cake. You come in here with your sanctimonious talk about slum kids and injustice, and you make up some wild stories, and al of a sudden you start getting through to some of these old ladies in here. Wel , you’re not getting through to me. I’ve had enough. What’s the matter with you people? Every one of you knows this kid is guilty. He’s got to burn. We’re letting him slip through our fingers here.
8TH JUROR: Slip through our fingers? Are you his executioner?
3RD JUROR: I’m one of ’em.
8TH JUROR: Maybe you’d like to pul the switch.
3RD JUROR: For this kid? You bet I’d like to pul the switch.
8TH JUROR: I’m sorry for you.
3RD JUROR: Don’t start with me now.
8TH JUROR: Ever since we walked into this room you’ve been behaving like a self-appointed public avenger.
3RD JUROR: I’m teling you now! Shut up!
8TH JUROR: You want to see this boy die because you personaly want it, not because of the facts.
8TH JUROR: You’re a sadist!
3RD JUROR: Shut up, you son of a bitch!
The 3RD JUROR lunges wildly at the 8TH JUROR.
The 8TH JUROR holds his ground. The 5TH and 6TH JURORS grab the 3RD
JUROR from behind. He strains against the hands, his face dark with rage.
Let go of me, God damn it! I’l kil him! I’l kil him!
8TH JUROR [ calmly]: You don’t realy mean you’l kil me, do you?
The 3RD JUROR breaks from the 5TH and 6TH JURORS, stops struggling and stares bitterly at the 8TH JUROR as
— the CURTAIN falls.
ACT II
The same. Immediately following.
When the CURTAIN rises, the JURORS are in the same positions as they were at the end of the previous act, looking at the 3RD JUROR. There is silence. The 3RD
JUROR crosses to the window. The other JURORS move about the room. There is an awkward silence.
The GUARD unlocks the door and enters.
GUARD: Is there anything wrong, gentlemen? I heard some noise.
FOREMAN: No. There’s nothing wrong.
The FOREMAN collects the apartment plan from the table. Just a little argument.
Everything’s OK.
The FOREMAN hands the plan to the GUARD.
We’re finished with this.
The GUARD takes the plan, looks carefully around the room, then exits, locking the door behind him.
There is a pause. The others look at the 3RD JUROR.
3RD JUROR: Wel, what are you staring at?
The others, embarrassed, turn away. Some of them take their seats.
12TH JUROR: Wel—I suppose someone has to—start it off again.
2ND JUROR: It’s getting late. [ To the FOREMAN.] What do they do, take us out to a restaurant for supper?
FOREMAN: How do I know?
2ND JUROR: I wonder if they let us go home in case we can’t finish tonight. I’ve got a boy with mumps. He’s out to here. The wife says he looks like Khrushchev.
The room begins to darken perceptibly now.
11TH JUROR: Pardon. This fighting. This is not why we are here, to fight. We have a responsibility. This, I have always thought, is a remarkable thing about democracy.
That we are, uh, what is the word? Notified. That we are notified by mail to come down to this place and decide on the guilt or innocence of a man we have never heard of before. We have nothing to gain or lose by our verdict. This is one of the reasons we are strong. We should not make it a personal thing.
12TH JUROR: Um, if no one else has an idea, I may have a cutie here. I mean, I haven’t put much thought into it. Anyway, lemme throw it out on the stoop and see if the cat licks it up.
FOREMAN: See if the cat licks it up? [ He laughs. ]
12TH JUROR: Wel, it wasn’t much of an idea, anyway.
5TH JUROR: Look how dark it’s getting. We’re gonna have a storm. Boy, it’s hot.
The 4TH JUROR , in tie and jacket, is seemingly not bothered by the heat at all.
The 5TH JUROR turns to him.
Pardon me, don’t you sweat?
4TH JUROR: No. I don’t.
6TH JUROR: Uh, listen, I was wondering if maybe we shouldn’t take another vote.
7TH JUROR: Great idea. Maybe we can folow this one up with dancing and refreshments.
6TH JUROR: Mr. Foreman?
FOREMAN: It’s al right with me. Anyone doesn’t want to vote? No one answers for a moment.
3RD JUROR: I think we ought to have an open balot. Cal out your votes, y’know.
Let’s see who stands where.
FOREMAN: That sounds fair. Anyone object? The last vote was eight to four in favor of guilty. Al right. I’l cal off your jury numbers. I vote “guilty.” Number Two?
2ND JUROR: “Not Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Three?
3RD JUROR: “Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Four?
4TH JUROR: “Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Five?
5TH JUROR: “Not Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Six?
6TH JUROR: “Not Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Seven?
7TH JUROR: “Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Eight?
8TH JUROR: “Not Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Nine?
9TH JUROR: “Not Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Ten?
10TH JUROR: “Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Eleven?
11TH JUROR: “Not Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Number Twelve?
12TH JUROR: “Guilty.”
FOREMAN: Six to six.
7TH JUROR: And we go into extra innings here.
10TH JUROR: Six to six! I’m teling you, some of you people in here are out of your minds. A kid like that.
9TH JUROR: I don’t think the kind of boy he is has anything to do with it. The facts are supposed to determine the case.
10TH JUROR: Ah, don’t give me any of that. I’m sick and tired of facts. You can twist
’em any way you like. Know what I mean?
9TH JUROR: That’s exactly the point this gentleman [ He indicates the 8TH JUROR.]
has been making. I mean, you keep shouting at the top of your lungs . . .
The 8TH JUROR puts his hand on the 9TH JUROR ’s shoulder. The 9TH JUROR
looks at him and sits.
I’d like to be a little younger. [ He stops. Unable to go on. ] It’s very hot in here.
11TH JUROR: Do you want some water?
9TH JUROR: No, thanks.
It has grown considerably darker in the room and it’s oppressively still. There is a murmur of voices at the cooler where the 7TH, 10TH, and 2ND JURORS are in various stages of getting a drink.
2ND JUROR: It’s going to rain.
7TH JUROR: No! How did you figure that out, blue eyes? Tel me, how come you switched?
2ND JUROR: Wel, it just seemed to me—
7TH JUROR: I mean, you haven’t got a leg to stand on. You know that, don’tcha?
2ND JUROR: Wel, I don’t feel that way. There’re a lot of details that never came out.
10TH JUROR: Details! You’re just letting yourself get buldozed by a bunch’a what d’ya cal ’em—intel ectuals.
2ND JUROR: Now, that’s not so.
10TH JUROR: Ah, come on. You’re like everybody else. You think too much, you get mixed up. Know what I mean?
2ND JUROR: Now, listen, I don’t think you have any right to . . . The 10TH JUROR
crosses away.
[ Softly.] Loudmouth!
It is now darker than before. There is no movement in the room. Everyone waits for the storm. And suddenly it comes. We hear only the sound of the rain pouring down into the silence. Heads turn toward the window. The rain pours down. The 4TH
JUROR goes into the washroom and exits to the lavatory.
The 8TH JUROR steps back from the window as the rain splashes in, closes it. The FOREMAN rises, goes to the light switch at the door and switches on the lights.
There is a flickering of harsh white light as the fluorescent lights come on. The rain continues throughout the remainder of the play. The FOREMAN moves to the 8TH JUROR.
FOREMAN: Wow! Look at that come down, wil ya? Think it’l cool things off?
8TH JUROR: Yeah, I guess so.
FOREMAN: Boy! Look at it go! Reminds me of the storm we had—November something. What a storm! Right in the middle of the game.
The 3D JUROR crosses to the washroom, goes in, switches on the light and washes his hands.
We’re behind seven-six, but we’re just startin’ to move the bal, off tackle, y’know.
Boom! Boom! Boy, I’l never forget that. We had this kid, Slattery. A real ox. Wish I had another one like him. Oh, I probably forgot to tel you—I’m assistant head footbal coach at the Andrew J. McCorkle High School. That’s in Queens.
The 8TH JUROR smiles briefly.
So anyway, we’re movin’ real
nice. Their line is comin’ apart. I’m telin’ ya, this Slattery. Boy! And al of a sudden it starts to come down cats and dogs. In two minutes it was mud practical y up to your ass. I swear I almost bawled. We couldn’t go nowhere.
7TH JUROR: Hey, let’s try to get this fan goin’ in here. What d’ya say?
The 4TH JUROR enters the washroom from the lavatory.
The FOREMAN goes to the bench, stands on it and starts the fan.
It musta been connected to the light switch.
The 3RD and 4TH JURORS are in the washroom together. 3RD JUROR [ to the 4TH
JUROR]: Some rain, huh?
The 4TH JUROR nods.
Wel, what d’ya think of this thing? It’s even-steven.
The 4TH JUROR nods.
Kind of surprising, isn’t it?
4TH JUROR: Yes.
3RD JUROR: Listen, that business before, you know, where that guy was baiting me.
I mean, that doesn’t prove anything. Listen, I’m a very excitable person, y’know. So where does he get off to cal me a public avenger and a sadist and everything?
Anybody in his right mind’d blow his stack, wouldn’t he? He was just trying to bait me.
4TH JUROR: He did an excelent job. [ He moves to the towel. ] Excuse me. [ He dries his hands. ]
3RD JUROR: OK, maybe he did. I told you, I can’t help that kind of thing. I’m a certain type of person, I get moved by this. But let me tel you, I’m sincere.
4TH JUROR: Fine. We al are.
The 10TH JUROR bursts into the washroom, strides to the basin and washes his hands.
10TH JUROR: Wel—isn’t this the goddamnedest thing you ever saw? Six to six. It’s a joke.
3RD JUROR: What are we gonna do about it? Can’t we break it somehow?
10TH JUROR: Those six bastards in there aren’t going to change their minds.
4TH JUROR: Five of them already have changed their minds. There’s no reason why they can’t be persuaded to do it again.
10TH JUROR: How?
4TH JUROR: Just by using logic.
10TH JUROR: Logic! Holy cow!
3RD JUROR: Now, just you listen to this man. He’s the only one in the room who knows . . .
10TH JUROR: You want my opinion?
4TH JUROR: Go ahead.
10TH JUROR: I think we should just quit.
3RD JUROR: What the hel are you talking about?
10TH JUROR: Those people in there are suddenly like it’s some kind of mission or something. Look, they’re not gonna switch, so let’s go and tel the Judge—we’l be here al night. For Chrissakes, let’s tel him we’re hung. The hel with this. I mean, what am I gonna do, break my brains over scum like that?
Twelve Angry Men Page 6