At the end of the first scene in The Emperor Jones, Brutus Jones tells Smithers that he refuses to escape through the back of his palace, and this statement ultimately foreshadows his own death:
Does you think I’d slink out de back door [...]? I’se Emperor yit, ain’t I? And de Emperor Jones leaves de way he comes, and dat black trash don’t dare stop him—not yit, leastways.
Referring to himself in the third person, Jones asserts that he will only leave “de way he comes” because being Emperor of the island demands that he act with a certain degree of dignity in order to differentiate himself from his lowly subjects. Given his sordid backstory, it is implied that Jones arrived on the island while on the run from American authorities following his murder of a white prison guard. Thus, Jones tries to leave the island the same way that he arrived—on the run.
Interestingly, Jones’s desire not to “slink” away is in direct conflict with his best interests and with the reality of his actions; his pride prevents him from acting with prudence (leaving through the back of the palace), but fleeing to the forest is ultimately just another attempt to outrun the consequences of his actions. Furthermore, Jones’s trek through the forest literally results in him leaving the way he came—his chosen path of escape becomes a death sentence, and his body is brought out through the very same clearing where he entered.
When the play begins, the curtain opens to reveal an empty stage—empty, that is, except for a single, giant red throne that foreshadows the play’s bloody end:
[The room is bare of furniture with the exception of one huge chair made of uncut wood which stands at center, its back to rear. This is very apparently the Emperor’s throne. It is painted a dazzling, eye-smiting scarlet. There is a brilliant orange cushion on the seat and another smaller one is placed on the floor to serve as a footstool. Strips of matting, dyed scarlet, lead from the foot of the throne to the two entrances.]
The scarlet throne is a shock of color on an otherwise white stage. The rich symbolism of a blood-red (or bloody, one might say) throne at the heart of this white room subliminally foreshadows what the audience will soon learn of Jones’s past criminal history, as well as how he came to rule over the island. Moreover, because the scarlet throne is the first thing the audience sees, and because it is so brilliantly eye-catching, it swiftly establishes the play’s mood. The contrast of this vibrant, uncut wooden structure with the white tile of the set invokes a dichotomy between wild nature and sterile civilization while inviting the all-consuming fear of those who behold it. Additionally, the ominous presence of the scarlet throne represents the blood and death to come later in the play, as well as the broader bloody past (and present) of colonial imperialist rule.
