_God will take ca-are of you Through all...

God will take ca-are of you Through all the day

O'er all the way,

He will take ca-are of you God will take ca-are of you!

Roxie [casually, as she hands Mrs. Morton another paper to clip]: Then yesterday must have been His day off.

Matron [puzzled]: What?

Roxie: I just said God wasn't on the job at the inquest or I wouldn't have landed here.

[The music starts up again. ] Say, does that keep up all day?

Matron: Just an hour or so. It's the Salvation Army--- the men likes to hear 'em. I'll have 'em close the doors. [Gets up and goes to the door. ]

Roxie: With them squawkin', and the radio upstairs tunin' in to Y.M. meetin's, health talks and ser- mons. .. . [As Matron is out of earshot.] This 1s a helluva joint: Sunday here and not a drop uh liquor in the house!

Velma [looks up in ready sympathy]: That's the hardest thing to get used to. [Gives a little shiver and takes another cigarette.] Smoking helps some.

Roxie [as Matron returns]: Look---look! [Gives a squeal of delight and points to page.] A whole page of pictures! [Awed.] Why, it's just like I was Presi- dent or somethin': "Beautiful Roxie Hart, the Jazz- Slayer"; "Roxie and Her Attorney"; "Roxie and Her Husband" ---] Gives a gasp of surprise.] For the love uh---! My Diary! "The Little Book to Which She Told Her Secrets"---can yuh beat it! ... "Only you and I, Diary, know how much we love him. . . ." Say, who do you s'pose wrote that stuff? You oughta see the real one!

Velma [darkly]: They've got it all right. No sense of ---honor, reporters. Broke into my apartment the night I---left, and stole a whole suit-case of letters--- valuable letters---letters from men who have loved me. ... [She is overcome with emotion. ]

Roxie: And a "Diagram of the Apartment"---my God! See the spot marked X. [Points with satisfaction. ] That's where he fell---the dirty piker!

Matron [reprovingly.]: Ssh, dearie! Mustn't talk like that. [To Velma.] She ain't seen her lawyer yet.

Roxie: Well, he was. [Scornfully.] One uh these wise guys that wants to be a Daddy on sixty a week and keep up a family on the side! But I called him all right!

Matron: I know. . . . [Virtuously.] I never hear of a man's bein' killed but I know he got just what was comin' to him. . . . But you mustn't say it.

Velma: What's your defense?

Roxie [shrilly]: Defense? D'yuh think I'd let a guy hold out on me like that?

Matron: But yuh can't tell the jury that!

Roxie: O cawv't I!

Velma: It's just like divorce: the reason don't count--- it's the grounds.

Roxie: Well, if that ain't grounds

Matron: But it's got to be accordin' to law, dearie: like he threatened or attacked you or somethin'.

Roxie [to VELMA]: What's yours?

Velma: Mine? Why, I didn't do it.

Roxie: Then who did? There was just you and him in the room!

Velma: [I'm sure I don't know. I was drunk, my dear, dead drunk. Passed out completely and remember nothing from the time we left the café till the officers found me washing the blood from my hands. But I'm sure I didn't doit. . . . Why, I've the tenderest heart in the world, Aaven't I, Mrs. Morton?

Matron: O she has indeed!

Velma: And wouldn't hurt a worm. . Not even a worm. .. .

Roxie: Is bein' drunk "grounds"?

Matron: Now don't you worry, dearie, Billy Flynn will take care of all that.

Roxie: He's comin' this afternoon.

. . [Tremolo. ]

Matron [wisely]: He'll fix you up all right---they don't make 'em any smarter than Billy. What he don't know about juries and women ! [A roll of her eyes intimates that the Britannica is a tyro. ] He's the best in the city.

Velma: Except Mr. Hessler.

Matron ] hastily]: Criminal lawyers, I mean.

Roxie [ quickly, to VELMA]: Ain't yours criminal?

Velma: O dear, no---he's doing this just for me. Divorce is his line. He's handled all of my cases---my family attorney. [Lifts brows languidly.] Very exclusive.

Roxie [to Matron]: Is mine exclusive?

Velma [laughs scornfully]: Billy?

Matron [hastily]: Yes---in his way---yes. And he'll give you a pretty trial.

Roxie: Well, he ought to---for five thousand dollars.

Matron: My, that's a lot of money---but it's worth it. A cheap one could do it all right---why, with your looks you don't need a lawyer at all! But it's a satisfaction to know it'll be done right! That's what I said when I buried my husband.

Roxie [expectantly]: Did you kill your…

Matron: Suicide it was. ... I went in debt, but I had all the trimmin's. . . . Never skimp on a fu- neral or a trial---especially a murder trial. Do it right. ] Finishes clipping and counts the columns. ] auerc' Five... eight... twelve .'. . seven- teen columns and twenty-three pictures---besides all them they got this mornin'!

Roxie [takes one and reads with pleasure]: "Roxie Hart, the prettiest woman ever charged with murder in Cook County, was held to the Grand Jury... ." Ummm... [runs on down column] ... "smiled 3 ~ CHICAGO Act I and cast coquettish glances from pansy eyes half hid by her purple turban"--- ] Breaks off in anger.] Can yuh beat it! I never wore a turban in my life! [To Velma.] Why, I’d look as old as you!

Velma ][affably]: Yes; you gotta have chick for a turban.

[Roxie glares but has no answer. ]

Matron: They're awful dumb, reporters. Never get anything right.

RoxiE [continues reading]: . .. "beige hose topped with turquoise garters"----say, they don't miss a trick!

Matron: Garters! What next!

Roxie: . . . "and rouged knees that warned Ann Pennington to look to her laurels."

Velma: Well, it's the last rouge they'll see for some time.

Roxie: Thank heavens, 7 can stand it, but it must be hard on people who're old or sallow. What's the big idea, anyway, shuttin' down on make-up?

Matron [apologetically]: It's the rules, dearie, I don't know why. But you'll get it for the trial, all right. . . . O my, it's goin' to be a real pleasure to do you!

Roxie [takes up another clipping]: "The wife of the dead man sat with bowed head during the in- quest.'. ..." Say, you oughta see her! Agdgae clothes she wore! They'd oughta run our pictures to- gether and call it ""Why Men Leave Home." She must be all of forty, and fat. Men like 'em round but not fat. No pep, no life, while I'm always rarin' to go!

[Continues reading.] "But the jazz slayer showed neither grief nor remorse; powdered her nose and registered calm amusement”

Velma [bitterly ]: You oughta cried and took on a lot. They razzed me the same way.

Matron: Well, it's only the papers, and the jury's all you care about.

Velma: And thank God they're men!

Roxie [flings down the clippings and springs up in rage]: The nasty little cat on the Ledger! Calls me knock-kneed! Dll scratch her eyes out!

Matron [in alarm]: O dearie, you mustn't get 'em down on you. Treat 'em nice and

Roxie: Well, they can't print lies about me!

Veta: O can't they! If you think you’ve had a raw deal---tell her, Mrs. Morton.

Matron: It's terrible, the things they wrote.

Velma: Made fun of my jewels, yes, they did! Said my diamonds sparkled like real. Like real! An honest-to-God three-carat from my second husband ---Mr. Phaley, you know him, the clothes manufac- turer. And my emerald and platinum bracelet---a divorce present from my first. And my pearls---my real Japanese pearls .. .

Matron: And your coat---don't forget your coat, Velma.

Velma: A genuine Eastern mink, mind you, and they called it weasel! It was his---Mr. Clapp's---last gift to me before he---er---passed away.

Roxie [bewildered]: Your husband?

Velma: Such a generous man! Wonderful to me--- more like a friend than a husband. That very night, just before he---went to his reward, he offered me two hundred a week alimony. I had just started my divorce, you know--- O my dear, didn't you see that? All the papers had it, with pictures of me and every- thing. ... And I said to him, "No, Clarence, youw're too generous---I won't take it.' Quite firmly I said it. "A hundred, yes, or maybe a hundred fifty; and not over one seventy-five at the most." [Triumphantly.] Now in the face of that, is it likely Id ---do what they said I did? Would I trade an offer like that for a measly ten thousand insurance?--- Cigarette?

[Roxie holds up an empty box and VELMA goes to the stairs. ]

Matron [indignantly ]: Which the company won't pay. Think of them holdin' out on her like that! O what women suffers from men!

Roxie: But she must have killed him, for the papers all said

Matron [severely ]: Now listen, dearie, if youw're goin' to believe what the papers say, you'll be suspicious of ever'body here---includin' yourself. You'll get along better if you just forget all that and take each one as they come---that's my motto. . . . And as for Velma, she's a pleasure to have around. No fightin', no ugly language, refined and genteel---a real lady if I ever saw one. And classy---all the papers say she's the dressiest one we've ever had.

Roxie: She don't look like a sheba to me. She must be forty, and dark and skinny. Men like 'em slim but not skinny.

Matron [with quick diplomacy]: Well, of course she ain't got your looks--- O my, no! But she’s a lady: uses black narcissus perfume and never makes her bed.

Roxie [with a regretful glance at her bunk]: I thought you had to!

Matron: She hires Lucia

Roxie: Who's Lucia?

[VELMA returns with cigarettes. ]

Matron: That Eyetalian woman

Roxie: ---who chopped her husband's head off while the star boarder held him down?

Velma: And she wasn't even drunk, my dear---not a drop!

Matron [reproachfully ]: Now, dearie, you mustn't be narrow-minded! [In explanation to Roxie.] She's waitin'? a new trial. They gave her fourteen years, but there's somethin'? wrong with the indictment or other . . . Anyhow, here she is, and she does Velma's laundry

Roxie: Pl get her, too. And I won't make my bed, either. 'm just as good as

Matron [hastily]: Sure you are---both of you.

Velma [languidly]: I've always had everything done ferme: .. .

Roxie [recklessly]: So have I! Ever'thing! A maid to bring in my breakfast

VELMA: Really .. .

Roxie: O yes, breakfast in bed every morning.

Matron: Well, yuh gotta get up for your breakfast--- that's rules---but yuh cam have it brought in, from Wooster's just around the corner. Anything yuh want, only twenty dollars a week. And we'I] all three eat together!

Maurine Watkins. Chicago. Alfred A. Knopf, 1926. pp.24-30