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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hairy Ape, by Eugene O'Neill
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Hairy Ape
+
+Author: Eugene O'Neill
+
+Posting Date: June 4, 2009 [EBook #4015]
+Release Date: May, 2003
+First Posted: October 10, 2001
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HAIRY APE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks, Robert Rowe and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+"THE HAIRY APE"
+
+A Comedy of Ancient and Modern Life
+
+In Eight Scenes
+
+
+By
+
+EUGENE O'NEILL
+
+
+
+
+
+CHARACTERS
+
+
+  ROBERT SMITH, "YANK"
+  PADDY
+  LONG
+  MILDRED DOUGLAS
+  HER AUNT
+  SECOND ENGINEER
+  A GUARD
+  A SECRETARY OF AN ORGANIZATION
+  STOKERS, LADIES, GENTLEMEN, ETC.
+
+
+
+
+
+SCENE I
+
+
+SCENE--_The firemen's forecastle of a transatlantic liner an hour after
+sailing from New York for the voyage across. Tiers of narrow, steel
+bunks, three deep, on all sides. An entrance in rear. Benches on the
+floor before the bunks. The room is crowded with men, shouting,
+cursing, laughing, singing--a confused, inchoate uproar swelling into a
+sort of unity, a meaning--the bewildered, furious, baffled defiance of
+a beast in a cage. Nearly all the men are drunk. Many bottles are
+passed from hand to hand. All are dressed in dungaree pants, heavy ugly
+shoes. Some wear singlets, but the majority are stripped to the waist._
+
+_The treatment of this scene, or of any other scene in the play, should
+by no means be naturalistic. The effect sought after is a cramped space
+in the bowels of a ship, imprisoned by white steel. The lines of bunks,
+the uprights supporting them, cross each other like the steel framework
+of a cage. The ceiling crushes down upon the men's heads. They cannot
+stand upright. This accentuates the natural stooping posture which
+shovelling coal and the resultant over-development of back and shoulder
+muscles have given them. The men themselves should resemble those
+pictures in which the appearance of Neanderthal Man is guessed at. All
+are hairy-chested, with long arms of tremendous power, and low,
+receding brows above their small, fierce, resentful eyes. All the
+civilized white races are represented, but except for the slight
+differentiation in color of hair, skin, eyes, all these men are alike._
+
+_The curtain rises on a tumult of sound. YANK is seated in the
+foreground. He seems broader, fiercer, more truculent, more powerful,
+more sure of himself than the rest. They respect his superior
+strength--the grudging respect of fear. Then, too, he represents to
+them a self-expression, the very last word in what they are, their most
+highly developed individual._
+
+VOICES--Gif me trink dere, you!
+
+'Ave a wet!
+
+Salute!
+
+Gesundheit!
+
+Skoal!
+
+Drunk as a lord, God stiffen you!
+
+Here's how!
+
+Luck!
+
+Pass back that bottle, damn you!
+
+Pourin' it down his neck!
+
+Ho, Froggy! Where the devil have you been?
+
+La Touraine.
+
+I hit him smash in yaw, py Gott!
+
+Jenkins--the First--he's a rotten swine--
+
+And the coppers nabbed him--and I run--
+
+I like peer better. It don't pig head gif you.
+
+A slut, I'm sayin'! She robbed me aslape--
+
+To hell with 'em all!
+
+You're a bloody liar!
+
+Say dot again!
+
+[_Commotion. Two men about to fight are pulled apart._]
+
+No scrappin' now!
+
+To-night--
+
+See who's the best man!
+
+Bloody Dutchman!
+
+To-night on the for'ard square.
+
+I'll bet on Dutchy.
+
+He packa da wallop, I tella you!
+
+Shut up, Wop!
+
+No fightin', maties. We're all chums, ain't we?
+
+[_A voice starts bawling a song._]
+
+    "Beer, beer, glorious beer!
+    Fill yourselves right up to here."
+
+YANK--[_For the first time seeming to take notice of the uproar about
+him, turns around threateningly--in a tone of contemptuous authority._]
+"Choke off dat noise! Where d'yuh get dat beer stuff? Beer, hell!
+Beer's for goils--and Dutchmen. Me for somep'n wit a kick to it! Gimme
+a drink, one of youse guys. [_Several bottles are eagerly offered. He
+takes a tremendous gulp at one of them; then, keeping the bottle in his
+hand, glares belligerently at the owner, who hastens to acquiesce in
+this robbery by saying:_] All righto, Yank. Keep it and have another."
+[_Yank contemptuously turns his back on the crowd again. For a second
+there is an embarrassed silence. Then--_]
+
+VOICES--We must be passing the Hook. She's beginning to roll to it. Six
+days in hell--and then Southampton. Py Yesus, I vish somepody take my
+first vatch for me! Gittin' seasick, Square-head? Drink up and forget
+it! What's in your bottle? Gin. Dot's nigger trink. Absinthe? It's
+doped. You'll go off your chump, Froggy! Cochon! Whiskey, that's the
+ticket! Where's Paddy? Going asleep. Sing us that whiskey song, Paddy.
+[_They all turn to an old, wizened Irishman who is dozing, very drunk,
+on the benches forward. His face is extremely monkey-like with all the
+sad, patient pathos of that animal in his small eyes._] Singa da song,
+Caruso Pat! He's gettin' old. The drink is too much for him. He's too
+drunk.
+
+PADDY--[_Blinking about him, starts to his feet resentfully, swaying,
+holding on to the edge of a bunk._] I'm never too drunk to sing. 'Tis
+only when I'm dead to the world I'd be wishful to sing at all. [_With a
+sort of sad contempt._] "Whiskey Johnny," ye want? A chanty, ye want?
+Now that's a queer wish from the ugly like of you, God help you. But no
+matther. [_He starts to sing in a thin, nasal, doleful tone:_]
+
+    Oh, whiskey is the life of man!
+        Whiskey! O Johnny!
+
+[_They all join in on this._]
+
+    Oh, whiskey is the life of man!
+        Whiskey for my Johnny! [_Again chorus_]
+    Oh, whiskey drove my old man mad!
+        Whiskey! O Johnny!
+    Oh, whiskey drove my old man mad!
+        Whiskey for my Johnny!
+
+YANK--[_Again turning around scornfully._] Aw hell! Nix on dat old
+sailing ship stuff! All dat bull's dead, see? And you're dead, too, yuh
+damned old Harp, on'y yuh don't know it. Take it easy, see. Give us a
+rest. Nix on de loud noise. [_With a cynical grin._] Can't youse see
+I'm tryin' to t'ink?
+
+ALL--[_Repeating the word after him as one with same cynical amused
+mockery._] Think! [_The chorused word has a brazen metallic quality as
+if their throats were phonograph horns. It is followed by a general
+uproar of hard, barking laughter._]
+
+VOICES--Don't be cracking your head wid ut, Yank.
+
+You gat headache, py yingo!
+
+One thing about it--it rhymes with drink!
+
+Ha, ha, ha!
+
+Drink, don't think!
+
+Drink, don't think!
+
+Drink, don't think!
+
+[_A whole chorus of voices has taken up this refrain, stamping on the
+floor, pounding on the benches with fists._]
+
+YANK--[_Taking a gulp from his bottle--good-naturedly._] Aw right. Can
+de noise. I got yuh de foist time. [_The uproar subsides. A very
+drunken sentimental tenor begins to sing:_]
+
+    "Far away in Canada,
+    Far across the sea,
+    There's a lass who fondly waits
+    Making a home for me--"
+
+YANK--[_Fiercely contemptuous._] Shut up, yuh lousey boob! Where d'yuh
+get dat tripe? Home? Home, hell! I'll make a home for yuh! I'll knock
+yuh dead. Home! T'hell wit home! Where d'yuh get dat tripe? Dis is
+home, see? What d'yuh want wit home? [_Proudly._] I runned away from
+mine when I was a kid. On'y too glad to beat it, dat was me. Home was
+lickings for me, dat's all. But yuh can bet your shoit noone ain't
+never licked me since! Wanter try it, any of youse? Huh! I guess not.
+[_In a more placated but still contemptuous tone._] Goils waitin' for
+yuh, huh? Aw, hell! Dat's all tripe. Dey don't wait for noone. Dey'd
+double-cross yuh for a nickel. Dey're all tarts, get me? Treat 'em
+rough, dat's me. To hell wit 'em. Tarts, dat's what, de whole bunch of
+'em.
+
+LONG--[_Very drunk, jumps on a bench excitedly, gesticulating with a
+bottle in his hand._] Listen 'ere, Comrades! Yank 'ere is right. 'E
+says this 'ere stinkin' ship is our 'ome. And 'e says as 'ome is 'ell.
+And 'e's right! This is 'ell. We lives in 'ell, Comrades--and right
+enough we'll die in it. [_Raging._] And who's ter blame, I arsks yer?
+We ain't. We wasn't born this rotten way. All men is born free and
+ekal. That's in the bleedin' Bible, maties. But what d'they care for
+the Bible--them lazy, bloated swine what travels first cabin? Them's
+the ones. They dragged us down 'til we're on'y wage slaves in the
+bowels of a bloody ship, sweatin', burnin' up, eatin' coal dust! Hit's
+them's ter blame--the damned capitalist clarss! [_There had been a
+gradual murmur of contemptuous resentment rising among the men until
+now he is interrupted by a storm of catcalls, hisses, boos, hard
+laughter._]
+
+VOICES--Turn it off!
+
+Shut up!
+
+Sit down!
+
+Closa da face!
+
+Tamn fool! (Etc.)
+
+YANK--[_Standing up and glaring at Long._] Sit down before I knock yuh
+down! [_Long makes haste to efface himself. Yank goes on
+contemptuously._] De Bible, huh? De Cap'tlist class, huh? Aw nix on dat
+Salvation Army-Socialist bull. Git a soapbox! Hire a hall! Come and be
+saved, huh? Jerk us to Jesus, huh? Aw g'wan! I've listened to lots of
+guys like you, see, Yuh're all wrong. Wanter know what I t'ink? Yuh
+ain't no good for noone. Yuh're de bunk. Yuh ain't got no noive, get
+me? Yuh're yellow, dat's what. Yellow, dat's you. Say! What's dem slobs
+in de foist cabin got to do wit us? We're better men dan dey are, ain't
+we? Sure! One of us guys could clean up de whole mob wit one mit. Put
+one of 'em down here for one watch in de stokehole, what'd happen?
+Dey'd carry him off on a stretcher. Dem boids don't amount to nothin'.
+Dey're just baggage. Who makes dis old tub run? Ain't it us guys? Well
+den, we belong, don't we? We belong and dey don't. Dat's all. [_A loud
+chorus of approval. Yank goes on_] As for dis bein' hell--aw, nuts! Yuh
+lost your noive, dat's what. Dis is a man's job, get me? It belongs. It
+runs dis tub. No stiffs need apply. But yuh're a stiff, see? Yuh're
+yellow, dat's you.
+
+VOICES--[_With a great hard pride in them._]
+
+Righto!
+
+A man's job!
+
+Talk is cheap, Long.
+
+He never could hold up his end.
+
+Divil take him!
+
+Yank's right. We make it go.
+
+Py Gott, Yank say right ting!
+
+We don't need noone cryin' over us.
+
+Makin' speeches.
+
+Throw him out!
+
+Yellow!
+
+Chuck him overboard!
+
+I'll break his jaw for him!
+
+[_They crowd around Long threateningly._]
+
+YANK--[_Half good-natured again--contemptuously._] Aw, take it easy.
+Leave him alone. He ain't woith a punch. Drink up. Here's how, whoever
+owns dis. [_He takes a long swallow from his bottle. All drink with
+him. In a flash all is hilarious amiability again, back-slapping, loud
+talk, etc._]
+
+PADDY--[_Who has been sitting in a blinking, melancholy daze--suddenly
+cries out in a voice full of old sorrow._] We belong to this, you're
+saying? We make the ship to go, you're saying? Yerra then, that
+Almighty God have pity on us! [_His voice runs into the wail of a keen,
+he rocks back and forth on his bench. The men stare at him, startled
+and impressed in spite of themselves._] Oh, to be back in the fine days
+of my youth, ochone! Oh, there was fine beautiful ships them
+days--clippers wid tall masts touching the sky--fine strong men in
+them--men that was sons of the sea as if 'twas the mother that bore
+them. Oh, the clean skins of them, and the clear eyes, the straight
+backs and full chests of them! Brave men they was, and bold men surely!
+We'd be sailing out, bound down round the Horn maybe. We'd be making
+sail in the dawn, with a fair breeze, singing a chanty song wid no care
+to it. And astern the land would be sinking low and dying out, but we'd
+give it no heed but a laugh, and never a look behind. For the day that
+was, was enough, for we was free men--and I'm thinking 'tis only slaves
+do be giving heed to the day that's gone or the day to come--until
+they're old like me. [_With a sort of religious exaltation._] Oh, to be
+scudding south again wid the power of the Trade Wind driving her on
+steady through the nights and the days! Full sail on her! Nights and
+days! Nights when the foam of the wake would be flaming wid fire, when
+the sky'd be blazing and winking wid stars. Or the full of the moon
+maybe. Then you'd see her driving through the gray night, her sails
+stretching aloft all silver and white, not a sound on the deck, the lot
+of us dreaming dreams, till you'd believe 'twas no real ship at all you
+was on but a ghost ship like the Flying Dutchman they say does be
+roaming the seas forevermore widout touching a port. And there was the
+days, too. A warm sun on the clean decks. Sun warming the blood of you,
+and wind over the miles of shiny green ocean like strong drink to your
+lungs. Work--aye, hard work--but who'd mind that at all? Sure, you
+worked under the sky and 'twas work wid skill and daring to it. And wid
+the day done, in the dog watch, smoking me pipe at ease, the lookout
+would be raising land maybe, and we'd see the mountains of South
+Americy wid the red fire of the setting sun painting their white tops
+and the clouds floating by them! [_His tone of exaltation ceases. He
+goes on mournfully._] Yerra, what's the use of talking? 'Tis a dead
+man's whisper. [_To Yank resentfully._] 'Twas them days men belonged to
+ships, not now. 'Twas them days a ship was part of the sea, and a man
+was part of a ship, and the sea joined all together and made it one.
+[_Scornfully._] Is it one wid this you'd be, Yank--black smoke from the
+funnels smudging the sea, smudging the decks--the bloody engines
+pounding and throbbing and shaking--wid divil a sight of sun or a
+breath of clean air--choking our lungs wid coal dust--breaking our
+backs and hearts in the hell of the stokehole--feeding the bloody
+furnace--feeding our lives along wid the coal, I'm thinking--caged in
+by steel from a sight of the sky like bloody apes in the Zoo! [_With a
+harsh laugh._] Ho-ho, divil mend you! Is it to belong to that you're
+wishing? Is it a flesh and blood wheel of the engines you'd be?
+
+YANK--[_Who has been listening with a contemptuous sneer, barks out the
+answer._] Sure ting! Dat's me! What about it?
+
+PADDY--[_As if to himself--with great sorrow._] Me time is past due.
+That a great wave wid sun in the heart of it may sweep me over the side
+sometime I'd be dreaming of the days that's gone!
+
+YANK--Aw, yuh crazy Mick! [_He springs to his feet and advances on
+Paddy threateningly--then stops, fighting some queer struggle within
+himself--lets his hands fall to his sides--contemptuously._] Aw, take
+it easy. Yuh're aw right, at dat. Yuh're bugs, dat's all--nutty as a
+cuckoo. All dat tripe yuh been pullin'--Aw, dat's all right. On'y it's
+dead, get me? Yuh don't belong no more, see. Yuh don't get de stuff.
+Yuh're too old. [_Disgustedly._] But aw say, come up for air onct in a
+while, can't yuh? See what's happened since yuh croaked. [_He suddenly
+bursts forth vehemently, growing more and more excited._] Say! Sure!
+Sure I meant it! What de hell--Say, lemme talk! Hey! Hey, you old Harp!
+Hey, youse guys! Say, listen to me--wait a moment--I gotter talk, see.
+I belong and he don't. He's dead but I'm livin'. Listen to me! Sure I'm
+part of de engines! Why de hell not! Dey move, don't dey? Dey're speed,
+ain't dey? Dey smash trou, don't dey? Twenty-five knots a hour! Dat's
+goin' some! Dat's new stuff! Dat belongs! But him, he's too old. He
+gets dizzy. Say, listen. All dat crazy tripe about nights and days; all
+dat crazy tripe about stars and moons; all dat crazy tripe about suns
+and winds, fresh air and de rest of it--Aw hell, dat's all a dope
+dream! Hittin' de pipe of de past, dat's what he's doin'. He's old and
+don't belong no more. But me, I'm young! I'm in de pink! I move wit it!
+It, get me! I mean de ting dat's de guts of all dis. It ploughs trou
+all de tripe he's been sayin'. It blows dat up! It knocks dat dead! It
+slams dat off en de face of de oith! It, get me! De engines and de coal
+and de smoke and all de rest of it! He can't breathe and swallow coal
+dust, but I kin, see? Dat's fresh air for me! Dat's food for me! I'm
+new, get me? Hell in de stokehole? Sure! It takes a man to work in
+hell. Hell, sure, dat's my fav'rite climate. I eat it up! I git fat on
+it! It's me makes it hot! It's me makes it roar! It's me makes it move!
+Sure, on'y for me everyting stops. It all goes dead, get me? De noise
+and smoke and all de engines movin' de woild, dey stop. Dere ain't
+nothin' no more! Dat's what I'm sayin'. Everyting else dat makes de
+woild move, somep'n makes it move. It can't move witout somep'n else,
+see? Den yuh get down to me. I'm at de bottom, get me! Dere ain't
+nothin' foither. I'm de end! I'm de start! I start somep'n and de woild
+moves! It--dat's me!--de new dat's moiderin' de old! I'm de ting in
+coal dat makes it boin; I'm steam and oil for de engines; I'm de ting
+in noise dat makes yuh hear it; I'm smoke and express trains and
+steamers and factory whistles; I'm de ting in gold dat makes it money!
+And I'm what makes iron into steel! Steel, dat stands for de whole
+ting! And I'm steel--steel--steel! I'm de muscles in steel, de punch
+behind it! [_As he says this he pounds with his fist against the steel
+bunks. All the men, roused to a pitch of frenzied self-glorification by
+his speech, do likewise. There is a deafening metallic roar, through
+which Yank's voice can be heard bellowing._] Slaves, hell! We run de
+whole woiks. All de rich guys dat tink dey're somep'n, dey ain't
+nothin'! Dey don't belong. But us guys, we're in de move, we're at de
+bottom, de whole ting is us! [_Paddy from the start of Yank's speech
+has been taking one gulp after another from his bottle, at first
+frightenedly, as if he were afraid to listen, then desperately, as if
+to drown his senses, but finally has achieved complete indifferent,
+even amused, drunkenness. Yank sees his lips moving. He quells the
+uproar with a shout._] Hey, youse guys, take it easy! Wait a moment! De
+nutty Harp is sayin' someth'n.
+
+PADDY--[_Is heard now--throws his head back with a mocking burst of
+laughter._] Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho---
+
+YANK--[_Drawing back his fist, with a snarl._] Aw! Look out who yuh're
+givin' the bark!
+
+PADDY--[_Begins to sing the "Muler of Dee" with enormous good-nature._]
+
+    "I care for nobody, no, not I,
+    And nobody cares for me."
+
+YANK--[_Good-natured himself in a flash, interrupts PADDY with a slap
+on the bare back like a report._] Dat's de stuff! Now yuh're gettin'
+wise to somep'n. Care for nobody, dat's de dope! To hell wit 'em all!
+And nix on nobody else carin'. I kin care for myself, get me! [_Eight
+bells sound, muffled, vibrating through the steel walls as if some
+enormous brazen gong were imbedded in the heart of the ship. All the
+men jump up mechanically, file through the door silently close upon each
+other's heels in what is very like a prisoners lockstep. YANK slaps
+PADDY on the back._] Our watch, yuh old Harp! [_Mockingly._] Come on
+down in hell. Eat up de coal dust. Drink in de heat. It's it, see! Act
+like yuh liked it, yuh better--or croak yuhself.
+
+PADDY--[_With jovial defiance._] To the divil wid it! I'll not report
+this watch. Let thim log me and be damned. I'm no slave the like of
+you. I'll be sittin' here at me ease, and drinking, and thinking, and
+dreaming dreams.
+
+YANK--[_Contemptuously._] Tinkin' and dreamin', what'll that get yuh?
+What's tinkin' got to do wit it? We move, don't we? Speed, ain't it?
+Fog, dat's all you stand for. But we drive trou dat, don't we? We split
+dat up and smash trou--twenty-five knots a hour! [_Turns his back on
+Paddy scornfully._] Aw, yuh make me sick! Yuh don't belong! [_He
+strides out the door in rear. Paddy hums to himself, blinking
+drowsily._]
+
+[_Curtain_]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE II
+
+
+SCENE--Two days out. A section of the promenade deck. MILDRED DOUGLAS
+and her aunt are discovered reclining in deck chairs. The former is a
+girl of twenty, slender, delicate, with a pale, pretty face marred by a
+self-conscious expression of disdainful superiority. She looks fretful,
+nervous and discontented, bored by her own anemia. Her aunt is a
+pompous and proud--and fat--old lady. She is a type even to the point
+of a double chin and lorgnettes. She is dressed pretentiously, as if
+afraid her face alone would never indicate her position in life.
+MILDRED is dressed all in white.
+
+The impression to be conveyed by this scene is one of the beautiful,
+vivid life of the sea all about--sunshine on the deck in a great flood,
+the fresh sea wind blowing across it. In the midst of this, these two
+incongruous, artificial figures, inert and disharmonious, the elder
+like a gray lump of dough touched up with rouge, the younger looking as
+if the vitality of her stock had been sapped before she was conceived,
+so that she is the expression not of its life energy but merely of the
+artificialities that energy had won for itself in the spending.
+
+MILDRED--[_Looking up with affected dreaminess._] How the black smoke
+swirls back against the sky! Is it not beautiful?
+
+AUNT--[_Without looking up._] I dislike smoke of any kind.
+
+MILDRED--My great-grandmother smoked a pipe--a clay pipe.
+
+AUNT--[_Ruffling._] Vulgar!
+
+MILDRED--She was too distant a relative to be vulgar. Time mellows
+pipes.
+
+AUNT--[_Pretending boredom but irritated._] Did the sociology you took
+up at college teach you that--to play the ghoul on every possible
+occasion, excavating old bones? Why not let your great-grandmother rest
+in her grave?
+
+MILDRED--[_Dreamily._] With her pipe beside her--puffing in Paradise.
+
+AUNT--[_With spite._] Yes, you are a natural born ghoul. You are even
+getting to look like one, my dear.
+
+MILDRED--[_In a passionless tone._] I detest you, Aunt. [_Looking at
+her critically._] Do you know what you remind me of? Of a cold pork
+pudding against a background of linoleum tablecloth in the kitchen of
+a--but the possibilities are wearisome. [_She closes her eyes._]
+
+AUNT--[_With a bitter laugh._] Merci for your candor. But since I am
+and must be your chaperone--in appearance, at least--let us patch up
+some sort of armed truce. For my part you are quite free to indulge any
+pose of eccentricity that beguiles you--as long as you observe the
+amenities--
+
+MILDRED--[_Drawling._] The inanities?
+
+AUNT--[_Going on as if she hadn't heard._] After exhausting the morbid
+thrills of social service work on New York's East Side--how they must
+have hated you, by the way, the poor that you made so much poorer in
+their own eyes!--you are now bent on making your slumming
+international. Well, I hope Whitechapel will provide the needed nerve
+tonic. Do not ask me to chaperone you there, however. I told your
+father I would not. I loathe deformity. We will hire an army of
+detectives and you may investigate everything--they allow you to see.
+
+MILDRED--[_Protesting with a trace of genuine earnestness._] Please do
+not mock at my attempts to discover how the other half lives. Give me
+credit for some sort of groping sincerity in that at least. I would
+like to help them. I would like to be some use in the world. Is it my
+fault I don't know how? I would like to be sincere, to touch life
+somewhere. [_With weary bitterness._] But I'm afraid I have neither the
+vitality nor integrity. All that was burnt out in our stock before I
+was born. Grandfather's blast furnaces, flaming to the sky, melting
+steel, making millions--then father keeping those home fires burning,
+making more millions--and little me at the tail-end of it all. I'm a
+waste product in the Bessemer process--like the millions. Or rather, I
+inherit the acquired trait of the by-product, wealth, but none of the
+energy, none of the strength of the steel that made it. I am sired by
+gold and darned by it, as they say at the race track--damned in more
+ways than one, [_She laughs mirthlessly_].
+
+AUNT--[_Unimpressed--superciliously._] You seem to be going in for
+sincerity to-day. It isn't becoming to you, really--except as an
+obvious pose. Be as artificial as you are, I advise. There's a sort of
+sincerity in that, you know. And, after all, you must confess you like
+that better.
+
+MILDRED--[_Again affected and bored._] Yes, I suppose I do. Pardon me
+for my outburst. When a leopard complains of its spots, it must sound
+rather grotesque. [_In a mocking tone._] Purr, little leopard. Purr,
+scratch, tear, kill, gorge yourself and be happy--only stay in the
+jungle where your spots are camouflage. In a cage they make you
+conspicuous.
+
+AUNT--I don't know what you are talking about.
+
+MILDRED--It would be rude to talk about anything to you. Let's just
+talk. [_She looks at her wrist watch._] Well, thank goodness, it's
+about time for them to come for me. That ought to give me a new thrill,
+Aunt.
+
+AUNT--[_Affectedly troubled._] You don't mean to say you're really
+going? The dirt--the heat must be frightful--
+
+MILDRED--Grandfather started as a puddler. I should have inherited an
+immunity to heat that would make a salamander shiver. It will be fun to
+put it to the test.
+
+AUNT--But don't you have to have the captain's--or
+someone's--permission to visit the stokehole?
+
+MILDRED--[_With a triumphant smile._] I have it--both his and the chief
+engineer's. Oh, they didn't want to at first, in spite of my social
+service credentials. They didn't seem a bit anxious that I should
+investigate how the other half lives and works on a ship. So I had to
+tell them that my father, the president of Nazareth Steel, chairman of
+the board of directors of this line, had told me it would be all right.
+
+AUNT--He didn't.
+
+MILDRED--How naive age makes one! But I said he did, Aunt. I even said
+he had given me a letter to them--which I had lost. And they were
+afraid to take the chance that I might be lying. [_Excitedly._] So it's
+ho! for the stokehole. The second engineer is to escort me. [_Looking
+at her watch again._] It's time. And here he comes, I think. [_The
+SECOND ENGINEER enters, He is a husky, fine-looking man of thirty-five
+or so. He stops before the two and tips his cap, visibly embarrassed
+and ill-at-ease._]
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--Miss Douglas?
+
+MILDRED--Yes. [_Throwing off her rugs and getting to her feet._] Are we
+all ready to start?
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--In just a second, ma'am. I'm waiting for the Fourth.
+He's coming along.
+
+MILDRED--[_With a scornful smile._] You don't care to shoulder this
+responsibility alone, is that it?
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--[_Forcing a smile._] Two are better than one.
+[_Disturbed by her eyes, glances out to sea--blurts out._] A fine day
+we're having.
+
+MILDRED--Is it?
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--A nice warm breeze--
+
+MILDRED--It feels cold to me.
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--But it's hot enough in the sun--
+
+MILDRED--Not hot enough for me. I don't like Nature. I was never
+athletic.
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--[_Forcing a smile._] Well, you'll find it hot enough
+where you're going.
+
+MILDRED--Do you mean hell?
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--[_Flabbergasted, decides to laugh._] Ho-ho! No, I mean
+the stokehole.
+
+MILDRED--My grandfather was a puddler. He played with boiling steel.
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--[_All at sea--uneasily._] Is that so? Hum, you'll
+excuse me, ma'am, but are you intending to wear that dress.
+
+MILDRED--Why not?
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--You'll likely rub against oil and dirt. It can't be
+helped.
+
+MILDRED--It doesn't matter. I have lots of white dresses.
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--I have an old coat you might throw over--
+
+MILDRED--I have fifty dresses like this. I will throw this one into the
+sea when I come back. That ought to wash it clean, don't you think?
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--[_Doggedly._] There's ladders to climb down that are
+none too clean--and dark alleyways--
+
+MILDRED--I will wear this very dress and none other.
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--No offence meant. It's none of my business. I was only
+warning you--
+
+MILDRED--Warning? That sounds thrilling.
+
+SECOND ENGINEER--[_Looking down the deck--with a sigh of
+relief._]--There's the Fourth now. He's waiting for us. If you'll come--
+
+MILDRED--Go on. I'll follow you. [_He goes. Mildred turns a mocking
+smile on her aunt._] An oaf--but a handsome, virile oaf.
+
+AUNT--[_Scornfully._] Poser!
+
+MILDRED--Take care. He said there were dark alleyways--
+
+AUNT--[_In the same tone._] Poser!
+
+MILDRED--[_Biting her lips angrily._] You are right. But would that my
+millions were not so anemically chaste!
+
+AUNT--Yes, for a fresh pose I have no doubt you would drag the name of
+Douglas in the gutter!
+
+MILDRED--From which it sprang. Good-by, Aunt. Don't pray too hard that
+I may fall into the fiery furnace.
+
+AUNT--Poser!
+
+MILDRED--[_Viciously._] Old hag! [_She slaps her aunt insultingly
+across the face and walks off, laughing gaily._]
+
+AUNT--[_Screams after her._] I said poser!
+
+[_Curtain_]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE III
+
+
+SCENE--The stokehole. In the rear, the dimly-outlined bulks of the
+furnaces and boilers. High overhead one hanging electric bulb sheds
+just enough light through the murky air laden with coal dust to pile up
+masses of shadows everywhere. A line of men, stripped to the waist, is
+before the furnace doors. They bend over, looking neither to right nor
+left, handling their shovels as if they were part of their bodies, with
+a strange, awkward, swinging rhythm. They use the shovels to throw open
+the furnace doors. Then from these fiery round holes in the black a
+flood of terrific light and heat pours full upon the men who are
+outlined in silhouette in the crouching, inhuman attitudes of chained
+gorillas. The men shovel with a rhythmic motion, swinging as on a pivot
+from the coal which lies in heaps on the floor behind to hurl it into
+the flaming mouths before them. There is a tumult of noise--the brazen
+clang of the furnace doors as they are flung open or slammed shut, the
+grating, teeth-gritting grind of steel against steel, of crunching
+coal. This clash of sounds stuns one's ears with its rending
+dissonance. But there is order in it, rhythm, a mechanical regulated
+recurrence, a tempo. And rising above all, making the air hum with the
+quiver of liberated energy, the roar of leaping flames in the furnaces,
+the monotonous throbbing beat of the engines.
+
+As the curtain rises, the furnace doors are shut. The men are taking a
+breathing spell. One or two are arranging the coal behind them, pulling
+it into more accessible heaps. The others can be dimly made out leaning
+on their shovels in relaxed attitudes of exhaustion.
+
+PADDY--[_From somewhere in the line--plaintively._] Yerra, will this
+divil's own watch nivir end? Me back is broke. I'm destroyed entirely.
+
+YANK--[_From the center of the line--with exuberant scorn._] Aw, yuh
+make me sick! Lie down and croak, why don't yuh? Always beefin', dat's
+you! Say, dis is a cinch! Dis was made for me! It's my meat, get me!
+[_A whistle is blown--a thin, shrill note from somewhere overhead in
+the darkness. Yank curses without resentment._] Dere's de damn engineer
+crakin' de whip. He tinks we're loafin'.
+
+PADDY--[_Vindictively._] God stiffen him!
+
+YANK--[_In an exultant tone of command._] Come on, youse guys! Git into
+de game! She's gittin' hungry! Pile some grub in her! Trow it into her
+belly! Come on now, all of youse! Open her up! [_At this last all the
+men, who have followed his movements of getting into position, throw
+open their furnace doors with a deafening clang. The fiery light floods
+over their shoulders as they bend round for the coal. Rivulets of sooty
+sweat have traced maps on their backs. The enlarged muscles form
+bunches of high light and shadow._]
+
+YANK--[_Chanting a count as he shovels without seeming effort._]
+One--two--tree--[_His voice rising exultantly in the joy of battle._]
+Dat's de stuff! Let her have it! All togedder now! Sling it into her!
+Let her ride! Shoot de piece now! Call de toin on her! Drive her into
+it! Feel her move! Watch her smoke! Speed, dat's her middle name! Give
+her coal, youse guys! Coal, dat's her booze! Drink it up, baby! Let's
+see yuh sprint! Dig in and gain a lap! Dere she go-o-es [_This last in
+the chanting formula of the gallery gods at the six-day bike race. He
+slams his furnace door shut. The others do likewise with as much unison
+as their wearied bodies will permit. The effect is of one fiery eye
+after another being blotted out with a series of accompanying bangs._]
+
+PADDY--[_Groaning._] Me back is broke. I'm bate out--bate--[_There is a
+pause. Then the inexorable whistle sounds again from the dim regions
+above the electric light. There is a growl of cursing rage from all
+sides._]
+
+YANK--[_Shaking his fist upward--contemptuously._] Take it easy dere,
+you! Who d'yuh tinks runnin' dis game, me or you? When I git ready, we
+move. Not before! When I git ready, get me!
+
+VOICES--[_Approvingly._] That's the stuff!
+
+Yank tal him, py golly!
+
+Yank ain't affeerd.
+
+Goot poy, Yank!
+
+Give him hell!
+
+Tell 'im 'e's a bloody swine!
+
+Bloody slave-driver!
+
+YANK--[_Contemptuously._] He ain't got no noive. He's yellow, get me?
+All de engineers is yellow. Dey got streaks a mile wide. Aw, to hell
+wit him! Let's move, youse guys. We had a rest. Come on, she needs it!
+Give her pep! It ain't for him. Him and his whistle, dey don't belong.
+But we belong, see! We gotter feed de baby! Come on! [_He turns and
+flings his furnace door open. They all follow his lead. At this instant
+the Second and Fourth Engineers enter from the darkness on the left
+with Mildred between them. She starts, turns paler, her pose is
+crumbling, she shivers with fright in spite of the blazing heat, but
+forces herself to leave the Engineers and take a few steps nearer the
+men. She is right behind Yank. All this happens quickly while the men
+have their backs turned._]
+
+YANK--Come on, youse guys! [_He is turning to get coal when the whistle
+sounds again in a peremptory, irritating note. This drives Yank into a
+sudden fury. While the other men have turned full around and stopped
+dumfounded by the spectacle of Mildred standing there in her white
+dress, Yank does not turn far enough to see her. Besides, his head is
+thrown back, he blinks upward through the murk trying to find the owner
+of the whistle, he brandishes his shovel murderously over his head in
+one hand, pounding on his chest, gorilla-like, with the other,
+shouting:_] Toin off dat whistle! Come down outa dere, yuh yellow,
+brass-buttoned, Belfast bum, yuh! Come down and I'll knock yer brains
+out! Yuh lousey, stinkin', yellow mut of a Catholic-moiderin' bastard!
+Come down and I'll moider yuh! Pullin' dat whistle on me, huh? I'll
+show yuh! I'll crash yer skull in! I'll drive yer teet' down yer troat!
+I'll slam yer nose trou de back of yer head! I'll cut yer guts out for
+a nickel, yuh lousey boob, yuh dirty, crummy, muck-eatin' son of a--
+
+[_Suddenly he becomes conscious of all the other men staring at
+something directly behind his back. He whirls defensively with a
+snarling, murderous growl, crouching to spring, his lips drawn back
+o'ver his teeth, his small eyes gleaming ferociously. He sees Mildred,
+like a white apparition in the full light from the open furnace doors.
+He glares into her eyes, turned to stone. As for her, during his speech
+she has listened, paralyzed with horror, terror, her whole personality
+crushed, beaten in, collapsed, by the terrific impact of this unknown,
+abysmal brutality, naked and shameless. As she looks at his gorilla
+face, as his eyes bore into hers, she utters a low, choking cry and
+shrinks away from him, putting both hands up before her eyes to shut
+out the sight of his face, to protect her own. This startles Yank to a
+reaction. His mouth falls open, his eyes grow bewildered._]
+
+MILDRED--[_About to faint--to the Engineers, who now have her one by
+each arm--whimperingly._] Take me away! Oh, the filthy beast! [_She
+faints. They carry her quickly back, disappearing in the darkness at
+the left, rear. An iron door clangs shut. Rage and bewildered fury rush
+back on Yank. He feels himself insulted in some unknown fashion in the
+very heart of his pride. He roars:_] God damn yuh! [_And hurls his
+shovel after them at the door which has just closed. It hits the steel
+bulkhead with a clang and falls clattering on the steel floor. From
+overhead the whistle sounds again in a long, angry, insistent command._]
+
+[_Curtain_]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE IV
+
+
+SCENE--The firemen's forecastle. Yank's watch has just come off duty
+and had dinner. Their faces and bodies shine from a soap and water
+scrubbing but around their eyes, where a hasty dousing does not touch,
+the coal dust sticks like black make-up, giving them a queer, sinister
+expression. Yank has not washed either face or body. He stands out in
+contrast to them, a blackened, brooding figure. He is seated forward on
+a bench in the exact attitude of Rodin's "The Thinker." The others,
+most of them smoking pipes, are staring at Yank half-apprehensively, as
+if fearing an outburst; half-amusedly, as if they saw a joke somewhere
+that tickled them.
+
+VOICES--He ain't ate nothin'.
+
+Py golly, a fallar gat gat grub in him.
+
+Divil a lie.
+
+Yank feeda da fire, no feeda da face.
+
+Ha-ha.
+
+He ain't even washed hisself.
+
+He's forgot.
+
+Hey, Yank, you forgot to wash.
+
+YANK--[_Sullenly._] Forgot nothin'! To hell wit washin'.
+
+VOICES--It'll stick to you. It'll get under your skin. Give yer the
+bleedin' itch, that's wot. It makes spots on you--like a leopard. Like
+a piebald nigger, you mean. Better wash up, Yank. You sleep better.
+Wash up, Yank. Wash up! Wash up!
+
+YANK--[_Resentfully._] Aw say, youse guys. Lemme alone. Can't youse see
+I'm tryin' to tink?
+
+ALL--[_Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery._]
+Think! [_The word has a brazen, metallic quality as if their throats
+were phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard, barking
+laughter._]
+
+YANK--[_Springing to his feet and glaring at them belligerently._] Yes,
+tink! Tink, dat's what I said! What about it? [_They are silent,
+puzzled by his sudden resentment at what used to be one of his jokes.
+Yank sits down again in the same attitude of "The Thinker."_]
+
+VOICES--Leave him alone.
+
+He's got a grouch on.
+
+Why wouldn't he?
+
+PADDY--[_With a wink at the others._] Sure I know what's the matther.
+'Tis aisy to see. He's fallen in love, I'm telling you.
+
+ALL--[_Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery._]
+Love! [_The word has a brazen, metallic quality as if their throats
+were phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard, barking
+laughter._]
+
+YANK--[_With a contemptuous snort._] Love, hell! Hate, dat's what. I've
+fallen in hate, get me?
+
+PADDY--[_Philosophically_] 'Twould take a wise man to tell one from the
+other. [_With a bitter, ironical scorn, increasing as he goes on._] But
+I'm telling you it's love that's in it. Sure what else but love for us
+poor bastes in the stokehole would be bringing a fine lady, dressed
+like a white quane, down a mile of ladders and steps to be havin' a
+look at us? [_A growl of anger goes up from all sides._]
+
+LONG--[_Jumping on a bench--hecticly_] Hinsultin' us! Hinsultin' us,
+the bloody cow! And them bloody engineers! What right 'as they got to
+be exhibitin' us 's if we was bleedin' monkeys in a menagerie? Did we
+sign for hinsults to our dignity as 'onest workers? Is that in the
+ship's articles? You kin bloody well bet it ain't! But I knows why they
+done it. I arsked a deck steward 'o she was and 'e told me. 'Er old
+man's a bleedin' millionaire, a bloody Capitalist! 'E's got enuf bloody
+gold to sink this bleedin' ship! 'E makes arf the bloody steel in the
+world! 'E owns this bloody boat! And you and me, comrades, we're 'is
+slaves! And the skipper and mates and engineers, they're 'is slaves!
+And she's 'is bloody daughter and we're all 'er slaves, too! And she
+gives 'er orders as 'ow she wants to see the bloody animals below decks
+and down they takes 'er! [_There is a roar of rage from all sides._]
+
+YANK--[_Blinking at him bewilderedly._] Say! Wait a moment! Is all dat
+straight goods?
+
+LONG--Straight as string! The bleedin' steward as waits on 'em, 'e told
+me about 'er. And what're we goin' ter do, I arsks yer? 'Ave we got ter
+swaller 'er hinsults like dogs? It ain't in the ship's articles. I tell
+yer we got a case. We kin go ter law--
+
+YANK--[_With abysmal contempt._] Hell! Law!
+
+ALL--[_Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery._] Law!
+[_The word has a brazen metallic quality as if their throats were
+phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard, barking
+laughter._]
+
+LONG--[_Feeling the ground slipping from under his feet--desperately._]
+As voters and citizens we kin force the bloody governments--
+
+YANK--[_With abysmal contempt._] Hell! Governments!
+
+ALL--[_Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery._]
+Governments! [_The word has a brazen metallic quality as if their
+throats were phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard,
+barking laughter._]
+
+LONG--[_Hysterically._] We're free and equal in the sight of God--
+
+YANK--[_With abysmal contempt._] Hell! God!
+
+ALL--[_Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery._] God!
+[_The word has a brazen metallic quality as if their throats were
+phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard, barking
+laughter._]
+
+YANK--[_Witheringly._] Aw, join de Salvation Army!
+
+ALL--Sit down! Shut up! Damn fool! Sea-lawyer! [_Long slinks back out
+of sight._]
+
+PADDY--[_Continuing the trend of his thoughts as if he had never been
+interrupted--bitterly._] And there she was standing behind us, and the
+Second pointing at us like a man you'd hear in a circus would be
+saying: In this cage is a queerer kind of baboon than ever you'd find
+in darkest Africy. We roast them in their own sweat--and be damned if
+you won't hear some of thim saying they like it! [_He glances
+scornfully at Yank._]
+
+YANK--[_With a bewildered uncertain growl._] Aw!
+
+PADDY--And there was Yank roarin' curses and turning round wid his
+shovel to brain her--and she looked at him, and him at her--
+
+YANK--[_Slowly._] She was all white. I tought she was a ghost. Sure.
+
+PADDY--[_With heavy, biting sarcasm._] 'Twas love at first sight, divil
+a doubt of it! If you'd seen the endearin' look on her pale mug when
+she shrivelled away with her hands over her eyes to shut out the sight
+of him! Sure, 'twas as if she'd seen a great hairy ape escaped from the
+Zoo!
+
+YANK--[_Stung--with a growl of rage._] Aw!
+
+PADDY--And the loving way Yank heaved his shovel at the skull of her,
+only she was out the door! [_A grin breaking over his face._] 'Twas
+touching, I'm telling you! It put the touch of home, swate home in the
+stokehole. [_There is a roar of laughter from all._]
+
+YANK--[_Glaring at Paddy menacingly._] Aw, choke dat off, see!
+
+PADDY--[_Not heeding him--to the others._] And her grabbin' at the
+Second's arm for protection. [_With a grotesque imitation of a woman's
+voice._] Kiss me, Engineer dear, for it's dark down here and me old
+man's in Wall Street making money! Hug me tight, darlin', for I'm
+afeerd in the dark and me mother's on deck makin' eyes at the skipper!
+[_Another roar of laughter._]
+
+YANK--[_Threateningly._] Say! What yuh tryin' to do, kid me, yuh old
+Harp?
+
+PADDY--Divil a bit! Ain't I wishin' myself you'd brained her?
+
+YANK--[_Fiercely._] I'll brain her! I'll brain her yet, wait 'n' see!
+[_Coming over to Paddy--slowly._] Say, is dat what she called me--a
+hairy ape?
+
+PADDY--She looked it at you if she didn't say the word itself.
+
+YANK--[_Grinning horribly._] Hairy ape, huh? Sure! Dat's de way she
+looked at me, aw right. Hairy ape! So dat's me, huh? [_Bursting into
+rage--as if she were still in front of him._] Yuh skinny tart! Yuh
+white-faced bum, yuh! I'll show yuh who's a ape! [_Turning to the
+others, bewilderment seizing him again._] Say, youse guys. I was
+bawlin' him out for pullin' de whistle on us. You heard me. And den I
+seen youse lookin' at somep'n and I tought he'd sneaked down to come up
+in back of me, and I hopped round to knock him dead wit de shovel. And
+dere she was wit de light on her! Christ, yuh coulda pushed me over
+with a finger! I was scared, get me? Sure! I tought she was a ghost,
+see? She was all in white like dey wrap around stiffs. You seen her.
+Kin yuh blame me? She didn't belong, dat's what. And den when I come to
+and seen it was a real skoit and seen de way she was lookin' at
+me--like Paddy said--Christ, I was sore, get me? I don't stand for dat
+stuff from nobody. And I flung de shovel--on'y she'd beat it.
+[_Furiously._] I wished it'd banged her! I wished it'd knocked her
+block off!
+
+LONG--And be 'anged for murder or 'lectrocuted? She ain't bleedin' well
+worth it.
+
+YANK--I don't give a damn what! I'd be square wit her, wouldn't I? Tink
+I wanter let her put somep'n over on me? Tink I'm goin' to let her git
+away wit dat stuff? Yuh don't know me! Noone ain't never put nothin'
+over on me and got away wit it, see!--not dat kind of stuff--no guy and
+no skoit neither! I'll fix her! Maybe she'll come down again--
+
+VOICE--No chance, Yank. You scared her out of a year's growth.
+
+YANK--I scared her? Why de hell should I scare her? Who de hell is she?
+Ain't she de same as me? Hairy ape, huh? [_With his old confident
+bravado._] I'll show her I'm better'n her, if she on'y knew it. I
+belong and she don't, see! I move and she's dead! Twenty-five knots a
+hour, dats me! Dat carries her but I make dat. She's on'y baggage.
+Sure! [_Again bewilderedly._] But, Christ, she was funny lookin'! Did
+yuh pipe her hands? White and skinny. Yuh could see de bones trough
+'em. And her mush, dat was dead white, too. And her eyes, dey was like
+dey'd seen a ghost. Me, dat was! Sure! Hairy ape! Ghost, huh? Look at
+dat arm! [_He extends his right arm, swelling out the great muscles._]
+I coulda took her wit dat, wit' just my little finger even, and broke
+her in two. [_Again bewilderedly._] Say, who is dat skoit, huh? What is
+she? What's she come from? Who made her? Who give her de noive to look
+at me like dat? Dis ting's got my goat right. I don't get her. She's
+new to me. What does a skoit like her mean, huh? She don't belong, get
+me! I can't see her. [_With growing anger._] But one ting I'm wise to,
+aw right, aw right! Youse all kin bet your shoits I'll git even wit
+her. I'll show her if she tinks she--She grinds de organ and I'm on de
+string, huh? I'll fix her! Let her come down again and I'll fling her
+in de furnace! She'll move den! She won't shiver at nothin', den!
+Speed, dat'll be her! She'll belong den! [_He grins horribly._]
+
+PADDY--She'll never come. She's had her belly-full, I'm telling you.
+She'll be in bed now, I'm thinking, wid ten doctors and nurses feedin'
+her salts to clean the fear out of her.
+
+YANK--[_Enraged._] Yuh tink I made her sick, too, do yuh? Just lookin'
+at me, huh? Hairy ape, huh? [_In a frenzy of rage._] I'll fix her! I'll
+tell her where to git off! She'll git down on her knees and take it
+back or I'll bust de face offen her! [_Shaking one fist upward and
+beating on his chest with the other._] I'll find yuh! I'm comin', d'yuh
+hear? I'll fix yuh, God damn yuh! [_He makes a rush for the door._]
+
+VOICES--Stop him!
+
+He'll get shot!
+
+He'll murder her!
+
+Trip him up!
+
+Hold him!
+
+He's gone crazy!
+
+Gott, he's strong!
+
+Hold him down!
+
+Look out for a kick!
+
+Pin his arms!
+
+[_They have all piled on him and, after a fierce struggle, by sheer
+weight of numbers have borne him to the floor just inside the door._]
+
+PADDY--[_Who has remained detached._] Kape him down till he's cooled
+off. [_Scornfully._] Yerra, Yank, you're a great fool. Is it payin'
+attention at all you are to the like of that skinny sow widout one drop
+of rale blood in her?
+
+YANK--[_Frenziedly, from the bottom of the heap._] She done me doit!
+She done me doit, didn't she? I'll git square wit her! I'll get her
+some way! Git offen me, youse guys! Lemme up! I'll show her who's a ape!
+
+[_Curtain_]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE V
+
+
+SCENE--Three weeks later. A corner of Fifth Avenue in the Fifties on a
+fine, Sunday morning. A general atmosphere of clean, well-tidied, wide
+street; a flood of mellow, tempered sunshine; gentle, genteel breezes.
+In the rear, the show windows of two shops, a jewelry establishment on
+the corner, a furrier's next to it. Here the adornments of extreme
+wealth are tantalizingly displayed. The jeweler's window is gaudy with
+glittering diamonds, emeralds, rubies, pearls, etc., fashioned in
+ornate tiaras, crowns, necklaces, collars, etc. From each piece hangs
+an enormous tag from which a dollar sign and numerals in intermittent
+electric lights wink out the incredible prices. The same in the
+furrier's. Rich furs of all varieties hang there bathed in a downpour
+of artificial light. The general effect is of a background of
+magnificence cheapened and made grotesque by commercialism, a
+background in tawdry disharmony with the clear light and sunshine on
+the street itself.
+
+Up the side street Yank and Long come swaggering. Long is dressed in
+shore clothes, wears a black Windsor tie, cloth cap. Yank is in his
+dirty dungarees. A fireman's cap with black peak is cocked defiantly on
+the side of his head. He has not shaved for days and around his fierce,
+resentful eyes--as around those of Long to a lesser degree--the black
+smudge of coal dust still sticks like make-up. They hesitate and stand
+together at the corner, swaggering, looking about them with a forced,
+defiant contempt.
+
+LONG--[_Indicating it all with an oratorical gesture._] Well, 'ere we
+are. Fif' Avenoo. This 'ere's their bleedin' private lane, as yer might
+say. [_Bitterly._] We're trespassers 'ere. Proletarians keep orf the
+grass!
+
+YANK--[_Dully._] I don't see no grass, yuh boob. [_Staring at the
+sidewalk._] Clean, ain't it? Yuh could eat a fried egg offen it. The
+white wings got some job sweepin' dis up. [_Looking up and down the
+avenue--surlily._] Where's all de white-collar stiffs yuh said was
+here--and de skoits--her kind?
+
+LONG--In church, blarst 'em! Arskin' Jesus to give 'em more money.
+
+YANK--Choich, huh? I useter go to choich onct--sure--when I was a kid.
+Me old man and woman, dey made me. Dey never went demselves, dough.
+Always got too big a head on Sunday mornin', dat was dem. [_With a
+grin._] Dey was scrappers for fair, bot' of dem. On Satiday nights when
+dey bot' got a skinful dey could put up a bout oughter been staged at
+de Garden. When dey got trough dere wasn't a chair or table wit a leg
+under it. Or else dey bot' jumped on me for somep'n. Dat was where I
+loined to take punishment. [_With a grin and a swagger._] I'm a chip
+offen de old block, get me?
+
+LONG--Did yer old man follow the sea?
+
+YANK--Naw. Worked along shore. I runned away when me old lady croaked
+wit de tremens. I helped at truckin' and in de market. Den I shipped in
+de stokehole. Sure. Dat belongs. De rest was nothin'. [_Looking around
+him._] I ain't never seen dis before. De Brooklyn waterfront, dat was
+where I was dragged up. [_Taking a deep breath._] Dis ain't so bad at
+dat, huh?
+
+LONG--Not bad? Well, we pays for it wiv our bloody sweat, if yer wants
+to know!
+
+YANK--[_With sudden angry disgust._] Aw, hell! I don't see noone,
+see--like her. All dis gives me a pain. It don't belong. Say, ain't
+dere a backroom around dis dump? Let's go shoot a ball. All dis is too
+clean and quiet and dolled-up, get me! It gives me a pain.
+
+LONG--Wait and yer'll bloody well see--
+
+YANK--I don't wait for noone. I keep on de move. Say, what yuh drag me
+up here for, anyway? Tryin' to kid me, yuh simp, yuh?
+
+LONG--Yer wants to get back at her, don't yer? That's what yer been
+saying' every bloomin' 'our since she hinsulted yer.
+
+YANK--[_Vehemently._] Sure ting I do! Didn't I try to git even wit her
+in Southampton? Didn't I sneak on de dock and wait for her by de
+gangplank? I was goin' to spit in her pale mug, see! Sure, right in her
+pop-eyes! Dat woulda made me even, see? But no chanct. Dere was a whole
+army of plain clothes bulls around. Dey spotted me and gimme de bum's
+rush. I never seen her. But I'll git square wit her yet, you watch!
+[_Furiously._] De lousey tart! She tinks she kin get away wit
+moider--but not wit me! I'll fix her! I'll tink of a way!
+
+LONG--[_As disgusted as he dares to be._] Ain't that why I brought yer
+up 'ere--to show yer? Yer been lookin' at this 'ere 'ole affair wrong.
+Yer been actin' an' talkin' 's if it was all a bleedin' personal matter
+between yer and that bloody cow. I wants to convince yer she was on'y a
+representative of 'er clarss. I wants to awaken yer bloody clarss
+consciousness. Then yer'll see it's 'er clarss yer've got to fight, not
+'er alone. There's a 'ole mob of 'em like 'er, Gawd blind 'em!
+
+YANK--[_Spitting on his hands--belligerently._] De more de merrier when
+I gits started. Bring on de gang!
+
+LONG--Yer'll see 'em in arf a mo', when that church lets out. [_He
+turns and sees the window display in the two stores for the first
+time._] Blimey! Look at that, will yer? [_They both walk back and stand
+looking in the jewelers. Long flies into a fury._] Just look at this
+'ere bloomin' mess! Just look at it! Look at the bleedin' prices on
+'em--more'n our 'old bloody stokehole makes in ten voyages sweatin' in
+'ell! And they--her and her bloody clarss--buys 'em for toys to dangle
+on 'em! One of these 'ere would buy scoff for a starvin' family for a
+year!
+
+YANK--Aw, cut de sob stuff! T' hell wit de starvin' family! Yuh'll be
+passin' de hat to me next. [_With naive admiration._] Say, dem tings is
+pretty, huh? Bet yuh dey'd hock for a piece of change aw right. [_Then
+turning away, bored._] But, aw hell, what good are dey? Let her have
+'em. Dey don't belong no more'n she does. [_With a gesture of sweeping
+the jewelers into oblivion._] All dat don't count, get me?
+
+LONG--[_Who has moved to the furriers--indignantly._] And I s'pose this
+'ere don't count neither--skins of poor, 'armless animals slaughtered
+so as 'er and 'ers can keep their bleedin' noses warm!
+
+YANK--[_Who has been staring at something inside--with queer
+excitement._] Take a slant at dat! Give it de once-over! Monkey
+fur--two t'ousand bucks! [_Bewilderedly._] Is dat straight
+goods--monkey fur? What de hell--?
+
+LONG--[_Bitterly._] It's straight enuf. [_With grim humor._] They
+wouldn't bloody well pay that for a 'airy ape's skin--no, nor for the
+'ole livin' ape with all 'is 'ead, and body, and soul thrown in!
+
+YANK--[_Clenching his fists, his face growing pale with rage as if the
+skin in the window were a personal insult._] Trowin' it up in my face!
+Christ! I'll fix her!
+
+LONG--[_Excitedly._] Church is out. 'Ere they come, the bleedin' swine.
+[_After a glance at Yank's lowering face--uneasily._] Easy goes,
+Comrade. Keep yer bloomin' temper. Remember force defeats itself. It
+ain't our weapon. We must impress our demands through peaceful
+means--the votes of the on-marching proletarians of the bloody world!
+
+YANK--[_With abysmal contempt._] Votes, hell! Votes is a joke, see.
+Votes for women! Let dem do it!
+
+LONG--[_Still more uneasily._] Calm, now. Treat 'em wiv the proper
+contempt. Observe the bleedin' parasites but 'old yer 'orses.
+
+YANK--[_Angrily._] Git away from me! Yuh're yellow, dat's what. Force,
+dat's me! De punch, dat's me every time, see! [_The crowd from church
+enter from the right, sauntering slowly and affectedly, their heads
+held stiffly up, looking neither to right nor left, talking in
+toneless, simpering voices. The women are rouged, calcimined, dyed,
+overdressed to the nth degree. The men are in Prince Alberts, high
+hats, spats, canes, etc. A procession of gaudy marionettes, yet with
+something of the relentless horror of Frankensteins in their detached,
+mechanical unawareness._]
+
+VOICES--Dear Doctor Caiaphas! He is so sincere!
+    What was the sermon? I dozed off.
+    About the radicals, my dear--and the false
+        doctrines that are being preached.
+    We must organize a hundred per cent American bazaar.
+    And let everyone contribute one one-hundredth percent
+        of their income tax.
+    What an original idea!
+    We can devote the proceeds to rehabilitating the veil of the
+        temple.
+    But that has been done so many times.
+
+YANK--[_Glaring from one to the other of them--with an insulting snort
+of scorn._] Huh! Huh! [_Without seeming to see him, they make wide
+detours to avoid the spot where he stands in the middle of the
+sidewalk._]
+
+LONG--[_Frightenedly._] Keep yer bloomin' mouth shut, I tells yer.
+
+YANK--[_Viciously._] G'wan! Tell it to Sweeney! [_He swaggers away and
+deliberately lurches into a top-hatted gentleman, then glares at him
+pugnaciously._] Say, who d'yuh tink yuh're bumpin'? Tink yuh own de
+oith?
+
+GENTLEMAN--[_Coldly and affectedly._] I beg your pardon. [_He has not
+looked at YANK and passes on without a glance, leaving him bewildered._]
+
+LONG--[_Rushing up and grabbing YANK's arm._] 'Ere! Come away! This
+wasn't what I meant. Yer'll 'ave the bloody coppers down on us.
+
+YANK--[_Savagely--giving him a push that sends him sprawling._] G'wan!
+
+LONG--[_Picks himself up--hysterically._] I'll pop orf then. This ain't
+what I meant. And whatever 'appens, yer can't blame me. [_He slinks off
+left._]
+
+YANK--T' hell wit youse! [_He approaches a lady--with a vicious grin
+and a smirking wink._] Hello, Kiddo. How's every little ting? Got
+anyting on for to-night? I know an old boiler down to de docks we kin
+crawl into. [_The lady stalks by without a look, without a change of
+pace. YANK turns to others--insultingly._] Holy smokes, what a mug! Go
+hide yuhself before de horses shy at yuh. Gee, pipe de heinie on dat
+one! Say, youse, yuh look like de stoin of a ferryboat. Paint and
+powder! All dolled up to kill! Yuh look like stiffs laid out for de
+boneyard! Aw, g'wan, de lot of youse! Yuh give me de eye-ache. Yuh
+don't belong, get me! Look at me, why don't youse dare? I belong, dat's
+me! [_Pointing to a skyscraper across the street which is in process of
+construction--with bravado._] See dat building goin' up dere? See de
+steel work? Steel, dat's me! Youse guys live on it and tink yuh're
+somep'n. But I'm IN it, see! I'm de hoistin' engine dat makes it go up!
+I'm it--de inside and bottom of it! Sure! I'm steel and steam and smoke
+and de rest of it! It moves--speed--twenty-five stories up--and me at
+de top and bottom--movin'! Youse simps don't move. Yuh're on'y dolls I
+winds up to see 'm spin. Yuh're de garbage, get me--de leavins--de
+ashes we dump over de side! Now, whata yuh gotto say? [_But as they
+seem neither to see nor hear him, he flies into a fury._] Bums! Pigs!
+Tarts! Bitches! [_He turns in a rage on the men, bumping viciously into
+them but not jarring them the least bit. Rather it is he who recoils
+after each collision. He keeps growling._] Git off de oith! G'wan, yuh
+bum! Look where yuh're goin,' can't yuh? Git outa here! Fight, why
+don't yuh? Put up yer mits! Don't be a dog! Fight or I'll knock yuh
+dead! [_But, without seeming to see him, they all answer with
+mechanical affected politeness:_] I beg your pardon. [_Then at a cry
+from one of the women, they all scurry to the furrier's window._]
+
+THE WOMAN--[_Ecstatically, with a gasp of delight._] Monkey fur! [_The
+whole crowd of men and women chorus after her in the same tone of
+affected delight._] Monkey fur!
+
+YANK--[_With a jerk of his head back on his shoulders, as if he had
+received a punch full in the face--raging._] I see yuh, all in white! I
+see yuh, yuh white-faced tart, yuh! Hairy ape, huh? I'll hairy ape yuh!
+[_He bends down and grips at the street curbing as if to pluck it out
+and hurl it. Foiled in this, snarling with passion, he leaps to the
+lamp-post on the corner and tries to pull it up for a club. Just at
+that moment a bus is heard rumbling up. A fat, high-hatted, spatted
+gentleman runs out from the side street. He calls out plaintively:
+"Bus! Bus! Stop there!" and runs full tilt into the bending, straining
+YANK, who is bowled off his balance._]
+
+YANK--[_Seeing a fight--with a roar of joy as he springs to his feet._]
+At last! Bus, huh? I'll bust yuh! [_He lets drive a terrific swing, his
+fist landing full on the fat gentleman's face. But the gentleman stands
+unmoved as if nothing had happened._]
+
+GENTLEMAN--I beg your pardon. [_Then irritably._] You have made me lose
+my bus. [_He claps his hands and begins to scream:_] Officer! Officer!
+[_Many police whistles shrill out on the instant and a whole platoon of
+policemen rush in on YANK from all sides. He tries to fight but is
+clubbed to the pavement and fallen upon. The crowd at the window have
+not moved or noticed this disturbance. The clanging gong of the patrol
+wagon approaches with a clamoring din._]
+
+[_Curtain_]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE VI
+
+
+SCENE--Night of the following day. A row of cells in the prison on
+Blackwells Island. The cells extend back diagonally from right front to
+left rear. They do not stop, but disappear in the dark background as if
+they ran on, numberless, into infinity. One electric bulb from the low
+ceiling of the narrow corridor sheds its light through the heavy steel
+bars of the cell at the extreme front and reveals part of the interior.
+YANK can be seen within, crouched on the edge of his cot in the
+attitude of Rodin's "The Thinker." His face is spotted with black and
+blue bruises. A blood-stained bandage is wrapped around his head.
+
+YANK--[_Suddenly starting as if awakening from a dream, reaches out and
+shakes the bars--aloud to himself, wonderingly._] Steel. Dis is de Zoo,
+huh? [_A burst of hard, barking laughter comes from the unseen
+occupants of the cells, runs back down the tier, and abruptly ceases._]
+
+VOICES--[_Mockingly._] The Zoo? That's a new name for this coop--a damn
+good name! Steel, eh? You said a mouthful. This is the old iron house.
+Who is that boob talkin'? He's the bloke they brung in out of his head.
+The bulls had beat him up fierce.
+
+YANK--[_Dully._] I musta been dreamin'. I tought I was in a cage at de
+Zoo--but de apes don't talk, do dey?
+
+VOICES--[_With mocking laughter._] You're in a cage aw right.
+
+A coop!
+
+A pen!
+
+A sty!
+
+A kennel! [_Hard laughter--a pause._]
+
+Say, guy! Who are you? No, never mind lying. What are you?
+
+Yes, tell us your sad story. What's your game?
+
+What did they jug yuh for?
+
+YANK--[_Dully._] I was a fireman--stokin' on de liners. [_Then with
+sudden rage, rattling his cell bars._] I'm a hairy ape, get me? And
+I'll bust youse all in de jaw if yuh don't lay off kiddin' me.
+
+VOICES--Huh! You're a hard boiled duck ain't you!
+
+When you spit, it bounces! [_Laughter._]
+
+Aw, can it. He's a regular guy. Ain't you?
+
+What did he say he was--a ape?
+
+YANK--[_Defiantly._] Sure ting! Ain't dat what youse all are--apes? [_A
+silence. Then a furious rattling of bars from down the corridor._]
+
+A VOICE--[_Thick with rage._] I'll show yuh who's a ape, yuh bum!
+
+VOICES--Ssshh! Nix!
+
+Can de noise!
+
+Piano!
+
+You'll have the guard down on us!
+
+YANK--[_Scornfully._] De guard? Yuh mean de keeper, don't yuh? [_Angry
+exclamations from all the cells._]
+
+VOICE--[_Placatingly._] Aw, don't pay no attention to him. He's off his
+nut from the beatin'-up he got. Say, you guy! We're waitin' to hear
+what they landed you for--or ain't yuh tellin'?
+
+YANK--Sure, I'll tell youse. Sure! Why de hell not? On'y--youse won't
+get me. Nobody gets me but me, see? I started to tell de Judge and all
+he says was: "Toity days to tink it over." Tink it over! Christ, dat's
+all I been doin' for weeks! [_After a pause._] I was tryin' to git even
+wit someone, see?--someone dat done me doit.
+
+VOICES--[_Cynically._] De old stuff, I bet. Your goil, huh?
+
+Give yuh the double-cross, huh?
+
+That's them every time!
+
+Did yuh beat up de odder guy?
+
+YANK--[_Disgustedly_] Aw, yuh're all wrong! Sure dere was a skoit in
+it--but not what youse mean, not dat old tripe. Dis was a new kind of
+skoit. She was dolled up all in white--in de stokehole. I tought she
+was a ghost. Sure. [_A pause._]
+
+VOICES--[_Whispering._] Gee, he's still nutty.
+
+Let him rave. It's fun listenin'.
+
+YANK--[_Unheeding--groping in his thoughts._] Her hands--dey was skinny
+and white like dey wasn't real but painted on somep'n. Dere was a
+million miles from me to her--twenty-five knots a hour. She was like
+some dead ting de cat brung in. Sure, dat's what. She didn't belong.
+She belonged in de window of a toy store, or on de top of a garbage
+can, see! Sure! [_He breaks out angrily._] But would yuh believe it,
+she had de noive to do me doit. She lamped me like she was seein'
+somep'n broke loose from de menagerie. Christ, yuh'd oughter seen her
+eyes! [_He rattles the bars of his cell furiously._] But I'll get back
+at her yet, you watch! And if I can't find her I'll take it out on de
+gang she runs wit. I'm wise to where dey hangs out now. I'll show her
+who belongs! I'll show her who's in de move and who ain't. You watch my
+smoke!
+
+VOICES--[_Serious and joking._] Dat's de talkin'!
+
+Take her for all she's got!
+
+What was this dame, anyway? Who was she, eh?
+
+YANK--I dunno. First cabin stiff. Her old man's a millionaire, dey
+says--name of Douglas.
+
+VOICES--Douglas? That's the president of the Steel Trust, I bet.
+
+Sure. I seen his mug in de papers.
+
+He's filthy with dough.
+
+VOICE--Hey, feller, take a tip from me. If you want to get back at that
+dame, you better join the Wobblies. You'll get some action then.
+
+YANK--Wobblies? What de hell's dat?
+
+VOICE--Ain't you ever heard of the I. W. W.?
+
+YANK--Naw. What is it?
+
+VOICE--A gang of blokes--a tough gang. I been readin' about 'em to-day
+in the paper. The guard give me the Sunday Times. There's a long spiel
+about 'em. It's from a speech made in the Senate by a guy named Senator
+Queen. [_He is in the cell next to YANK's. There is a rustling of
+paper._] Wait'll I see if I got light enough and I'll read you. Listen.
+[_He reads:_] "There is a menace existing in this country to-day which
+threatens the vitals of our fair Republic--as foul a menace against the
+very life-blood of the American Eagle as was the foul conspiracy of
+Cataline against the eagles of ancient Rome!"
+
+VOICE [_Disgustedly._] Aw hell! Tell him to salt de tail of dat eagle!
+
+VOICE--[_Reading:_] "I refer to that devil's brew of rascals,
+jailbirds, murderers and cutthroats who libel all honest working men by
+calling themselves the Industrial Workers of the World; but in the
+light of their nefarious plots, I call them the Industrious WRECKERS of
+the World!"
+
+YANK--[_With vengeful satisfaction._] Wreckers, dat's de right dope!
+Dat belongs! Me for dem!
+
+VOICE--Ssshh! [_Reading._] "This fiendish organization is a foul ulcer
+on the fair body of our Democracy--"
+
+VOICE--Democracy, hell! Give him the boid, fellers--the raspberry!
+[_They do._]
+
+VOICE--Ssshh! [_Reading:_] "Like Cato I say to this senate, the I. W.
+W. must be destroyed! For they represent an ever-present dagger pointed
+at the heart of the greatest nation the world has ever known, where all
+men are born free and equal, with equal opportunities to all, where the
+Founding Fathers have guaranteed to each one happiness, where Truth,
+Honor, Liberty, Justice, and the Brotherhood of Man are a religion
+absorbed with one's mother's milk, taught at our father's knee, sealed,
+signed, and stamped upon in the glorious Constitution of these United
+States!" [_A perfect storm of hisses, catcalls, boos, and hard
+laughter._]
+
+VOICES--[_Scornfully._] Hurrah for de Fort' of July!
+
+Pass de hat!
+
+Liberty!
+
+Justice!
+
+Honor!
+
+Opportunity!
+
+Brotherhood!
+
+ALL--[_With abysmal scorn._] Aw, hell!
+
+VOICE--Give that Queen Senator guy the bark! All togedder
+now--one--two--tree--[_A terrific chorus of barking and yapping._]
+
+GUARD--[_From a distance._] Quiet there, youse--or I'll git the hose.
+[_The noise subsides._]
+
+YANK--[_With growling rage._] I'd like to catch dat senator guy alone
+for a second. I'd loin him some trute!
+
+VOICE--Ssshh! Here's where he gits down to cases on the Wobblies.
+[_Reads:_] "They plot with fire in one hand and dynamite in the other.
+They stop not before murder to gain their ends, nor at the outraging of
+defenceless womanhood. They would tear down society, put the lowest
+scum in the seats of the mighty, turn Almighty God's revealed plan for
+the world topsy-turvy, and make of our sweet and lovely civilization a
+shambles, a desolation where man, God's masterpiece, would soon
+degenerate back to the ape!"
+
+VOICE--[_To YANK._] Hey, you guy. There's your ape stuff again.
+
+YANK--[_With a growl of fury._] I got him. So dey blow up tings, do
+dey? Dey turn tings round, do dey? Hey, lend me dat paper, will yuh?
+
+VOICE--Sure. Give it to him. On'y keep it to yourself, see. We don't
+wanter listen to no more of that slop.
+
+VOICE--Here you are. Hide it under your mattress.
+
+YANK--[_Reaching out._] Tanks. I can't read much but I kin manage. [_He
+sits, the paper in the hand at his side, in the attitude of Rodin's
+"The Thinker." A pause. Several snores from down the corridor. Suddenly
+YANK jumps to his feet with a furious groan as if some appalling
+thought had crashed on him--bewilderedly._] Sure--her old
+man--president of de Steel Trust--makes half de steel in de
+world--steel--where I tought I belonged--drivin' trou--movin'--in
+dat--to make HER--and cage me in for her to spit on! Christ [_He shakes
+the bars of his cell door till the whole tier trembles. Irritated,
+protesting exclamations from those awakened or trying to get to
+sleep._] He made dis--dis cage! Steel! IT don't belong, dat's what!
+Cages, cells, locks, bolts, bars--dat's what it means!--holdin' me down
+wit him at de top! But I'll drive trou! Fire, dat melts it! I'll be
+fire--under de heap--fire dat never goes out--hot as hell--breakin' out
+in de night--[_While he has been saying this last he has shaken his
+cell door to a clanging accompaniment. As he comes to the "breakin'
+out" he seizes one bar with both hands and, putting his two feet up
+against the others so that his position is parallel to the floor like a
+monkey's, he gives a great wrench backwards. The bar bends like a
+licorice stick under his tremendous strength. Just at this moment the
+PRISON GUARD rushes in, dragging a hose behind him._]
+
+GUARD--[_Angrily._] I'll loin youse bums to wake me up! [_Sees YANK._]
+Hello, it's you, huh? Got the D.T.s, hey? Well, I'll cure 'em. I'll
+drown your snakes for yuh! [_Noticing the bar._] Hell, look at dat bar
+bended! On'y a bug is strong enough for dat!
+
+YANK--[_Glaring at him._] Or a hairy ape, yuh big yellow bum! Look out!
+Here I come! [_He grabs another bar._]
+
+GUARD--[_Scared now--yelling off left._] Toin de hoose on, Ben!--full
+pressure! And call de others--and a strait jacket! [_The curtain is
+falling. As it hides YANK from view, there is a splattering smash as
+the stream of water hits the steel of YANK's cell._]
+
+[_Curtain_]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE VII
+
+
+SCENE--Nearly a month later. An I. W. W. local near the waterfront,
+showing the interior of a front room on the ground floor, and the
+street outside. Moonlight on the narrow street, buildings massed in
+black shadow. The interior of the room, which is general assembly room,
+office, and reading room, resembles some dingy settlement boys club. A
+desk and high stool are in one corner. A table with papers, stacks of
+pamphlets, chairs about it, is at center. The whole is decidedly cheap,
+banal, commonplace and unmysterious as a room could well be. The
+secretary is perched on the stool making entries in a large ledger. An
+eye shade casts his face into shadows. Eight or ten men, longshoremen,
+iron workers, and the like, are grouped about the table. Two are
+playing checkers. One is writing a letter. Most of them are smoking
+pipes. A big signboard is on the wall at the rear, "Industrial Workers
+of the World--Local No. 57."
+
+YANK--[_Comes down the street outside. He is dressed as in Scene Five.
+He moves cautiously, mysteriously. He comes to a point opposite the
+door; tiptoes softly up to it, listens, is impressed by the silence
+within, knocks carefully, as if he were guessing at the password to
+some secret rite. Listens. No answer. Knocks again a bit louder. No
+answer. Knocks impatiently, much louder._]
+
+SECRETARY--[_Turning around on his stool._] What the devil is
+that--someone knocking? [_Shouts:_] Come in, why don't you? [_All the
+men in the room look up. YANK opens the door slowly, gingerly, as if
+afraid of an ambush. He looks around for secret doors, mystery, is
+taken aback by the commonplaceness of the room and the men in it,
+thinks he may have gotten in the wrong place, then sees the signboard
+on the wall and is reassured._]
+
+YANK--[_Blurts out._] Hello.
+
+MEN--[_Reservedly._] Hello.
+
+YANK--[_More easily._] I tought I'd bumped into de wrong dump.
+
+SECRETARY--[_Scrutinizing him carefully._] Maybe you have. Are you a
+member?
+
+YANK--Naw, not yet. Dat's what I come for--to join.
+
+SECRETARY--That's easy. What's your job--longshore?
+
+YANK--Naw. Fireman--stoker on de liners.
+
+SECRETARY--[_With satisfaction._] Welcome to our city. Glad to know you
+people are waking up at last. We haven't got many members in your line.
+
+YANK--Naw. Dey're all dead to de woild.
+
+SECRETARY--Well, you can help to wake 'em. What's your name? I'll make
+out your card.
+
+YANK--[_Confused._] Name? Lemme tink.
+
+SECRETARY--[_Sharply._] Don't you know your own name?
+
+YANK--Sure; but I been just Yank for so long--Bob, dat's it--Bob Smith.
+
+SECRETARY--[_Writing._] Robert Smith. [_Fills out the rest of card._]
+Here you are. Cost you half a dollar.
+
+YANK--Is dat all--four bits? Dat's easy. [_Gives the SECRETARY the
+money._]
+
+SECRETARY--[_Throwing it in drawer._] Thanks. Well, make yourself at
+home. No introductions needed. There's literature on the table. Take
+some of those pamphlets with you to distribute aboard ship. They may
+bring results. Sow the seed, only go about it right. Don't get caught
+and fired. We got plenty out of work. What we need is men who can hold
+their jobs--and work for us at the same time.
+
+YANK--Sure. [_But he still stands, embarrassed and uneasy._]
+
+SECRETARY--[_Looking at him--curiously._] What did you knock for? Think
+we had a coon in uniform to open doors?
+
+YANK--Naw. I tought it was locked--and dat yuh'd wanter give me the
+once-over trou a peep-hole or somep'n to see if I was right.
+
+SECRETARY--[_Alert and suspicious but with an easy laugh._] Think we
+were running a crap game? That door is never locked. What put that in
+your nut?
+
+YANK--[_With a knowing grin, convinced that this is all camouflage, a
+part of the secrecy._] Dis burg is full of bulls, ain't it?
+
+SECRETARY--[_Sharply._] What have the cops got to do with us? We're
+breaking no laws.
+
+YANK--[_With a knowing wink._] Sure. Youse wouldn't for woilds. Sure.
+I'm wise to dat.
+
+SECRETARY--You seem to be wise to a lot of stuff none of us knows about.
+
+YANK--[_With another wink._] Aw, dat's aw right, see. [_Then made a bit
+resentful by the suspicious glances from all sides._] Aw, can it! Youse
+needn't put me trou de toid degree. Can't youse see I belong? Sure! I'm
+reg'lar. I'll stick, get me? I'll shoot de woiks for youse. Dat's why I
+wanted to join in.
+
+SECRETARY--[_Breezily, feeling him out._] That's the right spirit. Only
+are you sure you understand what you've joined? It's all plain and
+above board; still, some guys get a wrong slant on us. [_Sharply._]
+What's your notion of the purpose of the I. W. W.?
+
+YANK--Aw, I know all about it.
+
+SECRETARY--[_Sarcastically._] Well, give us some of your valuable
+information.
+
+YANK--[_Cunningly._] I know enough not to speak outa my toin. [_Then
+resentfully again._] Aw, say! I'm reg'lar. I'm wise to de game. I know
+yuh got to watch your step wit a stranger. For all youse know, I might
+be a plain-clothes dick, or somep'n, dat's what yuh're tinkin', huh?
+Aw, forget it! I belong, see? Ask any guy down to de docks if I don't.
+
+SECRETARY--Who said you didn't?
+
+YANK--After I'm 'nitiated, I'll show yuh.
+
+SECRETARY--[_Astounded._] Initiated? There's no initiation.
+
+YANK--[_Disappointed._] Ain't there no password--no grip nor nothin'?
+
+SECRETARY--What'd you think this is--the Elks--or the Black Hand?
+
+YANK--De Elks, hell! De Black Hand, dey're a lot of yellow backstickin'
+Ginees. Naw. Dis is a man's gang, ain't it?
+
+SECRETARY--You said it! That's why we stand on our two feet in the
+open. We got no secrets.
+
+YANK--[_Surprised but admiringly._] Yuh mean to say yuh always run wide
+open--like dis?
+
+SECRETARY--Exactly.
+
+YANK--Den yuh sure got your noive wit youse!
+
+SECRETARY--[_Sharply._] Just what was it made you want to join us? Come
+out with that straight.
+
+YANK--Yuh call me? Well, I got noive, too! Here's my hand. Yuh wanter
+blow tings up, don't yuh? Well, dat's me! I belong!
+
+SECRETARY--[_With pretended carelessness._] You mean change the unequal
+conditions of society by legitimate direct action--or with dynamite?
+
+YANK--Dynamite! Blow it offen de oith--steel--all de cages--all de
+factories, steamers, buildings, jails--de Steel Trust and all dat makes
+it go.
+
+SECRETARY--So--that's your idea, eh? And did you have any special job
+in that line you wanted to propose to us. [_He makes a sign to the men,
+who get up cautiously one by one and group behind YANK._]
+
+YANK--[_Boldly._] Sure, I'll come out wit it. I'll show youse I'm one
+of de gang. Dere's dat millionaire guy, Douglas--
+
+SECRETARY--President of the Steel Trust, you mean? Do you want to
+assassinate him?
+
+YANK--Naw, dat don't get yuh nothin'. I mean blow up de factory, de
+woiks, where he makes de steel. Dat's what I'm after--to blow up de
+steel, knock all de steel in de woild up to de moon. Dat'll fix tings!
+[_Eagerly, with a touch of bravado._] I'll do it by me lonesome! I'll
+show yuh! Tell me where his woiks is, how to git there, all de dope.
+Gimme de stuff, de old butter--and watch me do de rest! Watch de smoke
+and see it move! I don't give a damn if dey nab me--long as it's done!
+I'll soive life for it--and give 'em de laugh! [_Half to himself._] And
+I'll write her a letter and tell her de hairy ape done it. Dat'll
+square tings.
+
+SECRETARY--[_Stepping away from YANK._] Very interesting. [_He gives a
+signal. The men, huskies all, throw themselves on YANK and before he
+knows it they have his legs and arms pinioned. But he is too
+flabbergasted to make a struggle, anyway. They feel him over for
+weapons._]
+
+MAN--No gat, no knife. Shall we give him what's what and put the boots
+to him?
+
+SECRETARY--No. He isn't worth the trouble we'd get into. He's too
+stupid. [_He comes closer and laughs mockingly in YANK'S face._] Ho-ho!
+By God, this is the biggest joke they've put up on us yet. Hey, you
+Joke! Who sent you--Burns or Pinkerton? No, by God, you're such a
+bonehead I'll bet you're in the Secret Service! Well, you dirty spy,
+you rotten agent provocator, you can go back and tell whatever skunk is
+paying you blood-money for betraying your brothers that he's wasting
+his coin. You couldn't catch a cold. And tell him that all he'll ever
+get on us, or ever has got, is just his own sneaking plots that he's
+framed up to put us in jail. We are what our manifesto says we are,
+neither more or less--and we'll give him a copy of that any time he
+calls. And as for you--[_He glares scornfully at YANK, who is sunk in
+an oblivious stupor._] Oh, hell, what's the use of talking? You're a
+brainless ape.
+
+YANK--[_Aroused by the word to fierce but futile struggles._] What's
+dat, yuh Sheeny bum, yuh!
+
+SECRETARY--Throw him out, boys. [_In spite of his struggles, this is
+done with gusto and eclat. Propelled by several parting kicks, YANK
+lands sprawling in the middle of the narrow cobbled street. With a
+growl he starts to get up and storm the closed door, but stops
+bewildered by the confusion in his brain, pathetically impotent. He
+sits there, brooding, in as near to the attitude of Rodin's "Thinker"
+as he can get in his position._]
+
+YANK--[_Bitterly._] So dem boids don't tink I belong, neider. Aw, to
+hell wit 'em! Dey're in de wrong pew--de same old bull--soapboxes and
+Salvation Army--no guts! Cut out an hour offen de job a day and make me
+happy! Gimme a dollar more a day and make me happy! Tree square a day,
+and cauliflowers in de front yard--ekal rights--a woman and kids--a
+lousey vote--and I'm all fixed for Jesus, huh? Aw, hell! What does dat
+get yuh? Dis ting's in your inside, but it ain't your belly. Feedin'
+your face--sinkers and coffee--dat don't touch it. It's way down--at de
+bottom. Yuh can't grab it, and yuh can't stop it. It moves, and
+everyting moves. It stops and de whole woild stops. Dat's me now--I
+don't tick, see?--I'm a busted Ingersoll, dat's what. Steel was me, and
+I owned de woild. Now I ain't steel, and de woild owns me. Aw, hell! I
+can't see--it's all dark, get me? It's all wrong! [_He turns a bitter
+mocking face up like an ape gibbering at the moon._] Say, youse up
+dere, Man in de Moon, yuh look so wise, gimme de answer, huh? Slip me
+de inside dope, de information right from de stable--where do I get off
+at, huh?
+
+A POLICEMAN--[_Who has come up the street in time to hear this
+last--with grim humor._] You'll get off at the station, you boob, if
+you don't get up out of that and keep movin'.
+
+YANK--[_Looking up at him--with a hard, bitter laugh._] Sure! Lock me
+up! Put me in a cage! Dat's de on'y answer yuh know. G'wan, lock me up!
+
+POLICEMAN--What you been doin'?
+
+YANK--Enuf to gimme life for! I was born, see? Sure, dat's de charge.
+Write it in de blotter. I was born, get me!
+
+POLICEMAN--[_Jocosely._] God pity your old woman! [_Then
+matter-of-fact._] But I've no time for kidding. You're soused. I'd run
+you in but it's too long a walk to the station. Come on now, get up, or
+I'll fan your ears with this club. Beat it now! [_He hauls YANK to his
+feet._]
+
+YANK--[_In a vague mocking tone._] Say, where do I go from here?
+
+POLICEMAN--[_Giving him a push--with a grin, indifferently._] Go to
+hell.
+
+[_Curtain_]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII
+
+
+SCENE--Twilight of the next day. The monkey house at the Zoo. One spot
+of clear gray light falls on the front of one cage so that the interior
+can be seen. The other cages are vague, shrouded in shadow from which
+chatterings pitched in a conversational tone can be heard. On the one
+cage a sign from which the word "gorilla" stands out. The gigantic
+animal himself is seen squatting on his haunches on a bench in much the
+same attitude as Rodin's "Thinker." YANK enters from the left.
+Immediately a chorus of angry chattering and screeching breaks out. The
+gorilla turns his eyes but makes no sound or move.
+
+YANK--[_With a hard, bitter laugh._] Welcome to your city, huh? Hail,
+hail, de gang's all here! [_At the sound of his voice the chattering
+dies away into an attentive silence. YANK walks up to the gorilla's
+cage and, leaning over the railing, stares in at its occupant, who
+stares back at him, silent and motionless. There is a pause of dead
+stillness. Then YANK begins to talk in a friendly confidential tone,
+half-mockingly, but with a deep undercurrent of sympathy._] Say, yuh're
+some hard-lookin' guy, ain't yuh? I seen lots of tough nuts dat de gang
+called gorillas, but yuh're de foist real one I ever seen. Some chest
+yuh got, and shoulders, and dem arms and mits! I bet yuh got a punch in
+eider fist dat'd knock 'em all silly! [_This with genuine admiration.
+The gorilla, as if he understood, stands upright, swelling out his
+chest and pounding on it with his fist. YANK grins sympathetically._]
+Sure, I get yuh. Yuh challenge de whole woild, huh? Yuh got what I was
+sayin' even if yuh muffed de woids. [_Then bitterness creeping in._]
+And why wouldn't yuh get me? Ain't we both members of de same club--de
+Hairy Apes? [_They stare at each other--a pause--then YANK goes on
+slowly and bitterly._] So yuh're what she seen when she looked at me,
+de white-faced tart! I was you to her, get me? On'y outa de cage--broke
+out--free to moider her, see? Sure! Dat's what she tought. She wasn't
+wise dat I was in a cage, too--worser'n yours--sure--a damn
+sight--'cause you got some chanct to bust loose--but me--[_He grows
+confused._] Aw, hell! It's all wrong, ain't it? [_A pause._] I s'pose
+yuh wanter know what I'm doin' here, huh? I been warmin' a bench down
+to de Battery--ever since last night. Sure. I seen de sun come up. Dat
+was pretty, too--all red and pink and green. I was lookin' at de
+skyscrapers--steel--and all de ships comin' in, sailin' out, all over
+de oith--and dey was steel, too. De sun was warm, dey wasn't no clouds,
+and dere was a breeze blowin'. Sure, it was great stuff. I got it aw
+right--what Paddy said about dat bein' de right dope--on'y I couldn't
+get IN it, see? I couldn't belong in dat. It was over my head. And I
+kept tinkin'--and den I beat it up here to see what youse was like. And
+I waited till dey was all gone to git yuh alone. Say, how d'yuh feel
+sittin' in dat pen all de time, havin' to stand for 'em comin' and
+starin' at yuh--de white-faced, skinny tarts and de boobs what marry
+'em--makin' fun of yuh, laughin' at yuh, gittin' scared of yuh--damn
+'em! [_He pounds on the rail with his fist. The gorilla rattles the
+bars of his cage and snarls. All the other monkeys set up an angry
+chattering in the darkness. YANK goes on excitedly._] Sure! Dat's de
+way it hits me, too. On'y yuh're lucky, see? Yuh don't belong wit 'em
+and yuh know it. But me, I belong wit 'em--but I don't, see? Dey don't
+belong wit me, dat's what. Get me? Tinkin' is hard--[_He passes one
+hand across his forehead with a painful gesture. The gorilla growls
+impatiently. YANK goes on gropingly._] It's dis way, what I'm drivin'
+at. Youse can sit and dope dream in de past, green woods, de jungle and
+de rest of it. Den yuh belong and dey don't. Den yuh kin laugh at 'em,
+see? Yuh're de champ of de woild. But me--I ain't got no past to tink
+in, nor nothin' dat's comin', on'y what's now--and dat don't belong.
+Sure, you're de best off! Yuh can't tink, can yuh? Yuh can't talk
+neider. But I kin make a bluff at talkin' and tinkin'--a'most git away
+wit it--a'most!--and dat's where de joker comes in. [_He laughs._] I
+ain't on oith and I ain't in heaven, get me? I'm in de middle tryin' to
+separate 'em, takin' all de woist punches from bot' of 'em. Maybe dat's
+what dey call hell, huh? But you, yuh're at de bottom. You belong!
+Sure! Yuh're de on'y one in de woild dat does, yuh lucky stiff! [_The
+gorilla growls proudly._] And dat's why dey gotter put yuh in a cage,
+see? [_The gorilla roars angrily._] Sure! Yuh get me. It beats it when
+you try to tink it or talk it--it's way down--deep--behind--you 'n' me
+we feel it. Sure! Bot' members of dis club! [_He laughs--then in a
+savage tone._] What de hell! T' hell wit it! A little action, dat's our
+meat! Dat belongs! Knock 'em down and keep bustin' 'em till dey croaks
+yuh wit a gat--wit steel! Sure! Are yuh game? Dey've looked at youse,
+ain't dey--in a cage? Wanter git even? Wanter wind up like a sport
+'stead of croakin' slow in dere? [_The gorilla roars an emphatic
+affirmative. YANK goes on with a sort of furious exaltation._] Sure!
+Yuh're reg'lar! Yuh'll stick to de finish! Me 'n' you, huh?--bot'
+members of this club! We'll put up one last star bout dat'll knock 'em
+offen deir seats! Dey'll have to make de cages stronger after we're
+trou! [_The gorilla is straining at his bars, growling, hopping from
+one foot to the other. YANK takes a jimmy from under his coat and
+forces the lock on the cage door. He throws this open._] Pardon from de
+governor! Step out and shake hands! I'll take yuh for a walk down Fif'
+Avenoo. We'll knock 'em offen de oith and croak wit de band playin'.
+Come on, Brother. [_The gorilla scrambles gingerly out of his cage.
+Goes to YANK and stands looking at him. YANK keeps his mocking
+tone--holds out his hand._] Shake--de secret grip of our order.
+[_Something, the tone of mockery, perhaps, suddenly enrages the animal.
+With a spring he wraps his huge arms around YANK in a murderous hug.
+There is a crackling snap of crushed ribs--a gasping cry, still
+mocking, from YANK._] Hey, I didn't say, kiss me. [_The gorilla lets
+the crushed body slip to the floor; stands over it uncertainly,
+considering; then picks it up, throws it in the cage, shuts the door,
+and shuffles off menacingly into the darkness at left. A great uproar
+of frightened chattering and whimpering comes from the other cages.
+Then YANK moves, groaning, opening his eyes, and there is silence. He
+mutters painfully._] Say--dey oughter match him--wit Zybszko. He got
+me, aw right. I'm trou. Even him didn't tink I belonged. [_Then, with
+sudden passionate despair._] Christ, where do I get off at? Where do I
+fit in? [_Checking himself as suddenly._] Aw, what de hell! No
+squakin', see! No quittin', get me! Croak wit your boots on! [_He grabs
+hold of the bars of the cage and hauls himself painfully to his
+feet--looks around him bewilderedly--forces a mocking laugh._] In de
+cage, huh? [_In the strident tones of a circus barker._] Ladies and
+gents, step forward and take a slant at de one and only--[_His voice
+weakening_]--one and original--Hairy Ape from de wilds of--[_He slips
+in a heap on the floor and dies. The monkeys set up a chattering,
+whimpering wail. And, perhaps, the Hairy Ape at last belongs._]
+
+[_Curtain_]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hairy Ape, by Eugene O'Neill
+
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