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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Anna Christie, 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: Anna Christie
+
+Author: Eugene O'Neill
+
+Posting Date: June 4, 2009 [EBook #4025]
+Release Date: May, 2003
+First Posted: October 12, 2001
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANNA CHRISTIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks, Robert Rowe and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+"ANNA CHRISTIE"
+
+A Play in Four Acts
+
+
+By
+
+EUGENE O'NEILL
+
+
+
+
+
+CHARACTERS
+
+
+  "JOHNNY-THE-PRIEST"
+  TWO LONGSHOREMEN
+  A POSTMAN
+  LARRY, bartender
+  CHRIS. CHRISTOPHERSON, captain of the barge "Simeon Winthrop"
+  MARTHY OWEN
+  ANNA CHRISTOPHERSON, Chris's daughter
+  THREE MEN OF A STEAMER'S CREW
+  MAT BURKE, a stoker
+  JOHNSON, deckhand on the barge
+
+
+
+
+SCENES
+
+
+ACT I
+
+"Johnny-the-Priest's" saloon near the waterfront. New York City.
+
+ACT II
+
+The barge, Simeon Winthrop, at anchor in the harbor of Provincetown,
+Mass. Ten days later.
+
+ACT III
+
+Cabin of the barge, at dock in Boston. A week later.
+
+ACT IV
+
+The same. Two days later.
+
+
+
+
+Time of the Play--About 1910.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+SCENE--"Johnny-The-Priest's" saloon near South Street, New York City.
+The stage is divided into two sections, showing a small back room on
+the right. On the left, forward, of the barroom, a large window looking
+out on the street. Beyond it, the main entrance--a double swinging
+door. Farther back, another window. The bar runs from left to right
+nearly the whole length of the rear wall. In back of the bar, a small
+showcase displaying a few bottles of case goods, for which there is
+evidently little call. The remainder of the rear space in front of the
+large mirrors is occupied by half-barrels of cheap whiskey of the
+"nickel-a-shot" variety, from which the liquor is drawn by means of
+spigots. On the right is an open doorway leading to the back room. In
+the back room are four round wooden tables with five chairs grouped
+about each. In the rear, a family entrance opening on a side street.
+
+It is late afternoon of a day in fall.
+
+As the curtain rises, Johnny is discovered. "Johnny-The-Priest"
+deserves his nickname. With his pale, thin, clean-shaven face, mild
+blue eyes and white hair, a cassock would seem more suited to him than
+the apron he wears. Neither his voice nor his general manner dispel
+this illusion which has made him a personage of the water front. They
+are soft and bland. But beneath all his mildness one senses the man
+behind the mask--cynical, callous, hard as nails. He is lounging at
+ease behind the bar, a pair of spectacles on his nose, reading an
+evening paper.
+
+Two longshoremen enter from the street, wearing their working aprons,
+the button of the union pinned conspicuously on the caps pulled
+sideways on their heads at an aggressive angle.
+
+FIRST LONGSHOREMAN--[As they range themselves at the bar.] Gimme a
+shock. Number Two. [He tosses a coin on the bar.]
+
+SECOND LONGSHOREMAN--Same here. [Johnny sets two glasses of barrel
+whiskey before them.]
+
+FIRST LONGSHOREMAN--Here's luck! [The other nods. They gulp down their
+whiskey.]
+
+SECOND LONGSHOREMAN--[Putting money on the bar.] Give us another.
+
+FIRST LONGSHOREMAN--Gimme a scoop this time--lager and porter. I'm dry.
+
+SECOND LONGSHOREMAN--Same here. [Johnny draws the lager and porter and
+sets the big, foaming schooners before them. They drink down half the
+contents and start to talk together hurriedly in low tones. The door on
+the left is swung open and Larry enters. He is a boyish, red-cheeked,
+rather good-looking young fellow of twenty or so.]
+
+LARRY--[Nodding to Johnny--cheerily.] Hello, boss.
+
+JOHNNY--Hello, Larry. [With a glance at his watch.] Just on time.
+[LARRY goes to the right behind the bar, takes off his coat, and puts
+on an apron.]
+
+FIRST LONGSHOREMAN--[Abruptly.] Let's drink up and get back to it.
+[They finish their drinks and go out left. The POSTMAN enters as they
+leave. He exchanges nods with JOHNNY and throws a letter on the bar.]
+
+THE POSTMAN--Addressed care of you, Johnny. Know him?
+
+JOHNNY--[Picks up the letter, adjusting his spectacles. LARRY comes and
+peers over his shoulders. JOHNNY reads very slowly.] Christopher
+Christopherson.
+
+THE POSTMAN--[Helpfully.] Square-head name.
+
+LARRY--Old Chris--that's who.
+
+JOHNNY--Oh, sure. I was forgetting Chris carried a hell of a name like
+that. Letters come here for him sometimes before, I remember now. Long
+time ago, though.
+
+THE POSTMAN--It'll get him all right then?
+
+JOHNNY--Sure thing. He comes here whenever he's in port.
+
+THE POSTMAN--[Turning to go.] Sailor, eh?
+
+JOHNNY--[With a grin.] Captain of a coal barge.
+
+THE POSTMAN--[Laughing.] Some job! Well, s'long.
+
+JOHNNY--S'long. I'll see he gets it. [The POSTMAN goes out. JOHNNY
+scrutinizes the letter.] You got good eyes, Larry. Where's it from?
+
+LARRY--[After a glance.] St. Paul. That'll be in Minnesota, I'm
+thinkin'. Looks like a woman's writing, too, the old divil!
+JOHNNY--He's got a daughter somewheres out West, I think he told me
+once. [He puts the letter on the cash register.] Come to think of it, I
+ain't seen old Chris in a dog's age. [Putting his overcoat on, he comes
+around the end of the bar.] Guess I'll be gettin' home. See you
+to-morrow.
+
+LARRY--Good-night to ye, boss. [As JOHNNY goes toward the street door,
+it is pushed open and CHRISTOPHER CHRISTOPHERSON enters. He is a short,
+squat, broad-shouldered man of about fifty, with a round,
+weather-beaten, red face from which his light blue eyes peer
+short-sightedly, twinkling with a simple good humor. His large mouth,
+overhung by a thick, drooping, yellow mustache, is childishly
+self-willed and weak, of an obstinate kindliness. A thick neck is
+jammed like a post into the heavy trunk of his body. His arms with
+their big, hairy, freckled hands, and his stumpy legs terminating in
+large flat feet, are awkwardly short and muscular. He walks with a
+clumsy, rolling gait. His voice, when not raised in a hollow boom, is
+toned down to a sly, confidential half-whisper with something vaguely
+plaintive in its quality. He is dressed in a wrinkled, ill-fitting dark
+suit of shore clothes, and wears a faded cap of gray cloth over his mop
+of grizzled, blond hair. Just now his face beams with a too-blissful
+happiness, and he has evidently been drinking. He reaches his hand out
+to JOHNNY.]
+
+CHRIS--Hello, Yohnny! Have drink on me. Come on, Larry. Give us drink.
+Have one yourself. [Putting his hand in his pocket.] Ay gat
+money--plenty money.
+
+JOHNNY--[Shakes CHRIS by the hand.] Speak of the devil. We was just
+talkin' about you.
+
+LARRY--[Coming to the end of the bar.] Hello, Chris. Put it there.
+[They shake hands.]
+
+CHRIS--[Beaming.] Give us drink.
+
+JOHNNY--[With a grin.] You got a half-snootful now. Where'd you get it?
+
+CHRIS--[Grinning.] Oder fallar on oder barge--Irish fallar--he gat
+bottle vhiskey and we drank it, yust us two. Dot vhiskey gat kick, by
+yingo! Ay yust come ashore. Give us drink, Larry. Ay vas little drunk,
+not much. Yust feel good. [He laughs and commences to sing in a nasal,
+high-pitched quaver.]
+
+    "My Yosephine, come board de ship. Long time Ay
+    vait for you.
+    De moon, she shi-i-i-ine. She looka yust like you.
+    Tchee-tchee, tchee-tchee, tchee-tchee, tchee-tchee."
+
+[To the accompaniment of this last he waves his hand as if he were
+conducting an orchestra.]
+
+JOHNNY--[With a laugh.] Same old Yosie, eh, Chris?
+
+CHRIS--You don't know good song when you hear him. Italian fallar on
+oder barge, he learn me dat. Give us drink. [He throws change on the
+bar.]
+
+LARRY--[With a professional air.] What's your pleasure, gentlemen?
+
+JOHNNY--Small beer, Larry.
+
+CHRIS--Vhiskey--Number Two.
+
+LARRY--[As he gets their drinks.] I'll take a cigar on you.
+
+CHRIS--[Lifting his glass.] Skoal! [He drinks.]
+
+JOHNNY--Drink hearty.
+
+CHRIS--[Immediately.] Have oder drink.
+
+JOHNNY--No. Some other time. Got to go home now. So you've just landed?
+Where are you in from this time?
+
+CHRIS--Norfolk. Ve make slow voyage--dirty vedder--yust fog, fog, fog,
+all bloody time! [There is an insistent ring from the doorbell at the
+family entrance in the back room. Chris gives a start--hurriedly.] Ay
+go open, Larry. Ay forgat. It vas Marthy. She come with me. [He goes
+into the back room.]
+
+LARRY--[With a chuckle.] He's still got that same cow livin' with him,
+the old fool!
+
+JOHNNY--[With a grin.] A sport, Chris is. Well, I'll beat it home.
+S'long. [He goes to the street door.]
+
+LARRY--So long, boss.
+
+JOHNNY--Oh--don't forget to give him his letter.
+
+LARRY--I won't. [JOHNNY goes out. In the meantime, CHRIS has opened the
+family entrance door, admitting MARTHY. She might be forty or fifty.
+Her jowly, mottled face, with its thick red nose, is streaked with
+interlacing purple veins. Her thick, gray hair is piled anyhow in a
+greasy mop on top of her round head. Her figure is flabby and fat; her
+breath comes in wheezy gasps; she speaks in a loud, mannish voice,
+punctuated by explosions of hoarse laughter. But there still twinkles
+in her blood-shot blue eyes a youthful lust for life which hard usage
+has failed to stifle, a sense of humor mocking, but good-tempered. She
+wears a man's cap, double-breasted man's jacket, and a grimy, calico
+skirt. Her bare feet are encased in a man's brogans several sizes too
+large for her, which gives her a shuffling, wobbly gait.]
+
+MARTHY--[Grumblingly.] What yuh tryin' to do, Dutchy--keep me standin'
+out there all day? [She comes forward and sits at the table in the
+right corner, front.]
+
+CHRIS--[Mollifyingly.] Ay'm sorry, Marthy. Ay talk to Yohnny. Ay
+forgat. What you goin' take for drink?
+
+MARTHY--[Appeased.] Gimme a scoop of lager an' ale.
+
+CHRIS--Ay go bring him back. [He returns to the bar.] Lager and ale for
+Marthy, Larry. Vhiskey for me. [He throws change on the bar.]
+
+LARRY--Right you are. [Then remembering, he takes the letter from in
+back of the bar.] Here's a letter for you--from St. Paul,
+Minnesota--and a lady's writin'. [He grins.]
+
+CHRIS--[Quickly--taking it.] Oh, den it come from my daughter, Anna.
+She live dere. [He turns the letter over in his hands uncertainly.] Ay
+don't gat letter from Anna--must be a year.
+
+LARRY--[Jokingly.] That's a fine fairy tale to be tellin'--your
+daughter! Sure I'll bet it's some bum.
+
+CHRIS--[Soberly.] No. Dis come from Anna. [Engrossed by the letter in
+his hand--uncertainly.] By golly, Ay tank Ay'm too drunk for read dis
+letter from Anna. Ay tank Ay sat down for a minute. You bring drinks in
+back room, Larry. [He goes into the room on right.]
+
+MARTHY--[Angrily.] Where's my lager an' ale, yuh big stiff?
+
+CHRIS--[Preoccupied.] Larry bring him. [He sits down opposite her.
+LARRY brings in the drinks and sets them on the table. He and MARTHY
+exchange nods of recognition. LARRY stands looking at CHRIS curiously.
+MARTHY takes a long draught of her schooner and heaves a huge sigh of
+satisfaction, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. CHRIS stares
+at the letter for a moment--slowly opens it, and, squinting his eyes,
+commences to read laboriously, his lips moving as he spells out the
+words. As he reads his face lights up with an expression of mingled joy
+and bewilderment.]
+
+LARRY--Good news?
+
+MARTHY--[Her curiosity also aroused.] What's that yuh got--a letter,
+fur Gawd's sake?
+
+CHRIS--[Pauses for a moment, after finishing the letter, as if to let
+the news sink in--then suddenly pounds his fist on the table with happy
+excitement.] Py yiminy! Yust tank, Anna say she's comin' here right
+avay! She gat sick on yob in St. Paul, she say. It's short letter,
+don't tal me much more'n dat. [Beaming.] Py golly, dat's good news all
+at one time for ole fallar! [Then turning to MARTHY, rather
+shamefacedly.] You know, Marthy, Ay've tole you Ay don't see my Anna
+since she vas little gel in Sveden five year ole.
+
+MARTHY--How old'll she be now?
+
+CHRIS--She must be--lat me see--she must be twenty year ole, py Yo!
+
+LARRY--[Surprised.] You've not seen her in fifteen years?
+
+CHRIS--[Suddenly growing somber--in a low tone.] No. Ven she vas little
+gel, Ay vas bo'sun on vindjammer. Ay never gat home only few time dem
+year. Ay'm fool sailor fallar. My voman--Anna's mother--she gat tired
+vait all time Sveden for me ven Ay don't never come. She come dis
+country, bring Anna, dey go out Minnesota, live with her cousins on
+farm. Den ven her mo'der die ven Ay vas on voyage, Ay tank it's better
+dem cousins keep Anna. Ay tank it's better Anna live on farm, den she
+don't know dat ole davil, sea, she don't know fader like me.
+
+LARRY--[With a wink at MARTHY.] This girl, now, 'll be marryin' a
+sailor herself, likely. It's in the blood.
+
+CHRIS--[Suddenly springing to his feet and smashing his fist on the
+table in a rage.] No, py God! She don't do dat!
+
+MARTHY--[Grasping her schooner hastily--angrily.] Hey, look out, yuh
+nut! Wanta spill my suds for me?
+
+LARRY--[Amazed.] Oho, what's up with you? Ain't you a sailor yourself
+now, and always been?
+
+CHRIS--[Slowly.] Dat's yust vhy Ay say it. [Forcing a smile.] Sailor
+vas all right fallar, but not for marry gel. No. Ay know dat. Anna's
+mo'der, she know it, too.
+
+LARRY--[As CHRIS remains sunk in gloomy reflection.] When is your
+daughter comin'? Soon?
+
+CHRIS--[Roused.] Py yiminy, Ay forgat. [Reads through the letter
+hurriedly.] She say she come right avay, dat's all.
+
+LARRY--She'll maybe be comin' here to look for you, I s'pose. [He
+returns to the bar, whistling. Left alone with MARTHY, who stares at
+him with a twinkle of malicious humor in her eyes, CHRIS suddenly
+becomes desperately ill-at-ease. He fidgets, then gets up hurriedly.]
+
+CHRIS--Ay gat speak with Larry. Ay be right back. [Mollifyingly.] Ay
+bring you oder drink.
+
+MARTHY--[Emptying her glass.] Sure. That's me. [As he retreats with the
+glass she guffaws after him derisively.]
+
+CHRIS--[To LARRY in an alarmed whisper.] Py yingo, Ay gat gat Marthy
+shore off barge before Anna come! Anna raise hell if she find dat out.
+Marthy raise hell, too, for go, py golly!
+
+LARRY--[With a chuckle.] Serve ye right, ye old divil--havin' a woman
+at your age!
+
+CHRIS--[Scratching his head in a quandary.] You tal me lie for tal
+Marthy, Larry, so's she gat off barge quick.
+
+LARRY--She knows your daughter's comin'. Tell her to get the hell out
+of it.
+
+CHRIS--No. Ay don't like make her feel bad.
+
+LARRY--You're an old mush! Keep your girl away from the barge, then.
+She'll likely want to stay ashore anyway. [Curiously.] What does she
+work at, your Anna?
+
+CHRIS--She stay on dem cousins' farm 'till two year ago. Dan she gat
+yob nurse gel in St. Paul. [Then shaking his head resolutely.] But Ay
+don't vant for her gat yob now. Ay vant for her stay with me.
+
+LARRY--[Scornfully.] On a coal barge! She'll not like that, I'm
+thinkin'.
+
+MARTHY--[Shouts from next room.] Don't I get that bucket o' suds,
+Dutchy?
+
+CHRIS--[Startled--in apprehensive confusion.] Yes, Ay come, Marthy.
+
+LARRY--[Drawing the lager and ale, hands it to CHRIS--laughing.] Now
+you're in for it! You'd better tell her straight to get out!
+
+CHRIS--[Shaking in his boots.] Py golly. [He takes her drink in to
+MARTHY and sits down at the table. She sips it in silence. LARRY moves
+quietly close to the partition to listen, grinning with expectation.
+CHRIS seems on the verge of speaking, hesitates, gulps down his whiskey
+desperately as if seeking for courage. He attempts to whistle a few
+bars of "Yosephine" with careless bravado, but the whistle peters out
+futilely. MARTHY stares at him keenly, taking in his embarrassment with
+a malicious twinkle of amusement in her eye. CHRIS clears his throat.]
+Marthy--
+
+MARTHY--[Aggressively.] Wha's that? [Then, pretending to fly into a
+rage, her eyes enjoying CHRIS' misery.] I'm wise to what's in back of
+your nut, Dutchy. Yuh want to git rid o' me, huh?--now she's comin'.
+Gimme the bum's rush ashore, huh? Lemme tell yuh, Dutchy, there ain't a
+square-head workin' on a boat man enough to git away with that. Don't
+start nothin' yuh can't finish!
+
+CHRIS--[Miserably.] Ay don't start nutting, Marthy.
+
+MARTHY--[Glares at him for a second--then cannot control a burst of
+laughter.] Ho-ho! Yuh're a scream, Square-head--an honest-ter-Gawd
+knockout! Ho-ho! [She wheezes, panting for breath.]
+
+CHRIS--[With childish pique.] Ay don't see nutting for laugh at.
+
+MARTHY--Take a slant in the mirror and yuh'll see. Ho-ho! [Recovering
+from her mirth--chuckling, scornfully.] A square-head tryin' to kid
+Marthy Owen at this late day!--after me campin' with barge men the last
+twenty years. I'm wise to the game, up, down, and sideways. I ain't
+been born and dragged up on the water front for nothin'. Think I'd make
+trouble, huh? Not me! I'll pack up me duds an' beat it. I'm quittin'
+yuh, get me? I'm tellin' yuh I'm sick of stickin' with yuh, and I'm
+leavin' yuh flat, see? There's plenty of other guys on other barges
+waitin' for me. Always was, I always found. [She claps the astonished
+CHRIS on the back.] So cheer up, Dutchy! I'll be offen the barge before
+she comes. You'll be rid o' me for good--and me o' you--good riddance
+for both of us. Ho-ho!
+
+CHRIS--[Seriously.] Ay don' tank dat. You vas good gel, Marthy.
+
+MARTHY--[Grinning.] Good girl? Aw, can the bull! Well, yuh treated me
+square, yuhself. So it's fifty-fifty. Nobody's sore at nobody. We're
+still good frien's, huh? [LARRY returns to bar.]
+
+CHRIS--[Beaming now that he sees his troubles disappearing.] Yes, py
+golly.
+
+MARTHY--That's the talkin'! In all my time I tried never to split with
+a guy with no hard feelin's. But what was yuh so scared about--that I'd
+kick up a row? That ain't Marthy's way. [Scornfully.] Think I'd break
+my heart to lose yuh? Commit suicide, huh? Ho-ho! Gawd! The world's
+full o' men if that's all I'd worry about! [Then with a grin, after
+emptying her glass.] Blow me to another scoop, huh? I'll drink your
+kid's health for yuh.
+
+CHRIS--[Eagerly.] Sure tang. Ay go gat him. [He takes the two glasses
+into the bar.] Oder drink. Same for both.
+
+LARRY--[Getting the drinks and putting them on the bar.] She's not such
+a bad lot, that one.
+
+CHRIS--[Jovially.] She's good gel, Ay tal you! Py golly, Ay calabrate
+now! Give me vhiskey here at bar, too. [He puts down money. LARRY
+serves him.] You have drink, Larry.
+
+LARRY--[Virtuously.] You know I never touch it.
+
+CHRIS--You don't know what you miss. Skoal! [He drinks--then begins to
+sing loudly.]
+
+    "My Yosephine, come board de ship--"
+
+[He picks up the drinks for MARTHY and himself and walks unsteadily
+into the back room, singing.]
+
+    "De moon, she shi-i-i-ine. She looks yust like you.
+    Tche-tchee, tchee-tchee, tchee-tchee, tchee-tchee."
+
+MARTHY--[Grinning, hands to ears.] Gawd!
+
+CHRIS--[Sitting down.] Ay'm good singer, yes? Ve drink, eh? Skoal! Ay
+calabrate! [He drinks.] Ay calabrate 'cause Anna's coming home. You
+know, Marthy, Ay never write for her to come, 'cause Ay tank Ay'm no
+good for her. But all time Ay hope like hell some day she vant for see
+me and den she come. And dat's vay it happen now, py yiminy! [His face
+beaming.] What you tank she look like, Marthy? Ay bet you she's fine,
+good, strong gel, pooty like hell! Living on farm made her like dat.
+And Ay bet you some day she marry good, steady land fallar here in
+East, have home all her own, have kits--and dan Ay'm ole grandfader, py
+golly! And Ay go visit dem every time Ay gat in port near! [Bursting
+with joy.] By yiminy crickens, Ay calabrate dat! [Shouts.] Bring oder
+drink, Larry! [He smashes his fist on the table with a bang.]
+
+LARRY--[Coming in from bar--irritably.] Easy there! Don't be breakin'
+the table, you old goat!
+
+CHRIS--[By way of reply, grins foolishly and begins to sing.] "My
+Yosephine comes board de ship--"
+
+MARTHY--[Touching CHRIS' arm persuasively.] You're soused to the ears,
+Dutchy. Go out and put a feed into you. It'll sober you up. [Then as
+CHRIS shakes his head obstinately.] Listen, yuh old nut! Yuh don't know
+what time your kid's liable to show up. Yuh want to be sober when she
+comes, don't yuh?
+
+CHRIS--[Aroused--gets unsteadily to his feet.] Py golly, yes.
+
+LARRY--That's good sense for you. A good beef stew'll fix you. Go round
+the corner.
+
+CHRIS--All right. Ay be back soon, Marthy. [CHRIS goes through the bar
+and out the street door.]
+
+LARRY--He'll come round all right with some grub in him.
+
+MARTHY--Sure. [LARRY goes back to the bar and resumes his newspaper.
+MARTHY sips what is left of her schooner reflectively. There is the
+ring of the family entrance bell. LARRY comes to the door and opens it
+a trifle--then, with a puzzled expression, pulls it wide. ANNA
+CHRISTOPHERSON enters. She is a tall, blond, fully-developed girl of
+twenty, handsome after a large, Viking-daughter fashion but now run
+down in health and plainly showing all the outward evidences of
+belonging to the world's oldest profession. Her youthful face is
+already hard and cynical beneath its layer of make-up. Her clothes are
+the tawdry finery of peasant stock turned prostitute. She comes and
+sinks wearily in a chair by the table, left front.]
+
+ANNA--Gimme a whiskey--ginger ale on the side. [Then, as LARRY turns to
+go, forcing a winning smile at him.] And don't be stingy, baby.
+
+LARRY--[Sarcastically.] Shall I serve it in a pail?
+
+ANNA--[With a hard laugh.] That suits me down to the ground. [LARRY
+goes into the bar. The two women size each other up with frank stares.
+LARRY comes back with the drink which he sets before ANNA and returns
+to the bar again. ANNA downs her drink at a gulp. Then, after a moment,
+as the alcohol begins to rouse her, she turns to MARTHY with a friendly
+smile.] Gee, I needed that bad, all right, all right!
+
+MARTHY--[Nodding her head sympathetically.] Sure--yuh look all in. Been
+on a bat?
+
+ANNA--No--travelling--day and a half on the train. Had to sit up all
+night in the dirty coach, too. Gawd, I thought I'd never get here!
+
+MARTHY--[With a start--looking at her intently.] Where'd yuh come from,
+huh?
+
+ANNA--St. Paul--out in Minnesota.
+
+MARTHY--[Staring at her in amazement--slowly.] So--yuh're--[She
+suddenly bursts out into hoarse, ironical laughter.] Gawd!
+
+ANNA--All the way from Minnesota, sure. [Flaring up.] What you laughing
+at? Me?
+
+MARTHY--[Hastily.] No, honest, kid. I was thinkin' of somethin' else.
+
+ANNA--[Mollified--with a smile.] Well, I wouldn't blame you, at that.
+Guess I do look rotten--yust out of the hospital two weeks. I'm going
+to have another 'ski. What d'you say? Have something on me?
+
+MARTHY--Sure I will. T'anks. [She calls.] Hey, Larry! Little service!
+[He comes in.]
+
+ANNA--Same for me.
+
+MARTHY--Same here. [LARRY takes their glasses and goes out.]
+
+ANNA--Why don't you come sit over here, be sociable. I'm a dead
+stranger in this burg--and I ain't spoke a word with no one since day
+before yesterday.
+
+MARTHY--Sure thing. [She shuffles over to ANNA'S table and sits down
+opposite her. LARRY brings the drinks and ANNA pays him.]
+
+ANNA--Skoal! Here's how! [She drinks.]
+
+MARTHY--Here's luck! [She takes a gulp from her schooner.]
+
+ANNA--[Taking a package of Sweet Caporal cigarettes from her bag.] Let
+you smoke in here, won't they?
+
+MARTHY--[Doubtfully.] Sure. [Then with evident anxiety.] On'y trow it
+away if yuh hear someone comin'.
+
+ANNA--[Lighting one and taking a deep inhale.] Gee, they're fussy in
+this dump, ain't they? [She puffs, staring at the table top. MARTHY
+looks her over with a new penetrating interest, taking in every detail
+of her face. ANNA suddenly becomes conscious of this appraising
+stare--resentfully.] Ain't nothing wrong with me, is there? You're
+looking hard enough.
+
+MARTHY--[Irritated by the other's tone--scornfully.] Ain't got to look
+much. I got your number the minute you stepped in the door.
+
+ANNA--[Her eyes narrowing.] Ain't you smart! Well, I got yours, too,
+without no trouble. You're me forty years from now. That's you! [She
+gives a hard little laugh.]
+
+MARTHY--[Angrily.] Is that so? Well, I'll tell you straight, kiddo,
+that Marthy Owen never--[She catches herself up short--with a grin.]
+What are you and me scrappin' over? Let's cut it out, huh? Me, I don't
+want no hard feelin's with no one. [Extending her hand.] Shake and
+forget it, huh?
+
+ANNA--[Shakes her hand gladly.] Only too glad to. I ain't looking for
+trouble. Let's have 'nother. What d'you say?
+
+MARTHY--[Shaking her head.] Not for mine. I'm full up. And you-- Had
+anythin' to eat lately?
+
+ANNA--Not since this morning on the train.
+
+MARTHY--Then yuh better go easy on it, hadn't yuh?
+
+ANNA--[After a moment's hesitation.] Guess you're right. I got to meet
+someone, too. But my nerves is on edge after that rotten trip.
+
+MARTHY--Yuh said yuh was just outa the hospital?
+
+ANNA--Two weeks ago. [Leaning over to MARTHY confidentially.] The joint
+I was in out in St. Paul got raided. That was the start. The judge give
+all us girls thirty days. The others didn't seem to mind being in the
+cooler much. Some of 'em was used to it. But me, I couldn't stand it.
+It got my goat right--couldn't eat or sleep or nothing. I never could
+stand being caged up nowheres. I got good and sick and they had to send
+me to the hospital. It was nice there. I was sorry to leave it, honest!
+
+MARTHY--[After a slight pause.] Did yuh say yuh got to meet someone
+here?
+
+ANNA--Yes. Oh, not what you mean. It's my Old Man I got to meet.
+Honest! It's funny, too. I ain't seen him since I was a kid--don't even
+know what he looks like--yust had a letter every now and then. This was
+always the only address he give me to write him back. He's yanitor of
+some building here now--used to be a sailor.
+
+MARTHY--[Astonished.] Janitor!
+
+ANNA--Sure. And I was thinking maybe, seeing he ain't never done a
+thing for me in my life, he might be willing to stake me to a room and
+eats till I get rested up. [Wearily.] Gee, I sure need that rest! I'm
+knocked out. [Then resignedly.] But I ain't expecting much from him.
+Give you a kick when you're down, that's what all men do. [With sudden
+passion.] Men, I hate 'em--all of 'em! And I don't expect he'll turn
+out no better than the rest. [Then with sudden interest.] Say, do you
+hang out around this dump much?
+
+MARTHY--Oh, off and on.
+
+ANNA--Then maybe you know him--my Old Man--or at least seen him?
+
+MARTHY--It ain't old Chris, is it?
+
+ANNA--Old Chris?
+
+MARTHY--Chris Christopherson, his full name is.
+
+ANNA--[Excitedly.] Yes, that's him! Anna Christopherson--that's my real
+name--only out there I called myself Anna Christie. So you know him, eh?
+
+MARTHY--[Evasively.] Seen him about for years.
+
+ANNA--Say, what's he like, tell me, honest?
+
+MARTHY--Oh, he's short and--
+
+ANNA--[Impatiently.] I don't care what he looks like. What kind is he?
+
+MARTHY--[Earnestly.] Well, yuh can bet your life, kid, he's as good an
+old guy as ever walked on two feet. That goes!
+
+ANNA--[Pleased.] I'm glad to hear it. Then you think's he'll stake me
+to that rest cure I'm after?
+
+MARTHY--[Emphatically.] Surest thing you know. [Disgustedly.] But
+where'd yuh get the idea he was a janitor?
+
+ANNA--He wrote me he was himself.
+
+MARTHY--Well, he was lyin'. He ain't. He's captain of a barge--five men
+under him.
+
+ANNA--[Disgusted in her turn.] A barge? What kind of a barge?
+
+MARTHY--Coal, mostly.
+
+ANNA--A coal barge! [With a harsh laugh.] If that ain't a swell job to
+find your long lost Old Man working at! Gee, I knew something'd be
+bound to turn out wrong--always does with me. That puts my idea of his
+giving me a rest on the bum.
+
+MARTHY--What d'yuh mean?
+
+ANNA--I s'pose he lives on the boat, don't he?
+
+MARTHY--Sure. What about it? Can't you live on it, too?
+
+ANNA--[Scornfully.] Me? On a dirty coal barge! What d'you think I am?
+
+MARTHY--[Resentfully.] What d'yuh know about barges, huh? Bet yuh ain't
+never seen one. That's what comes of his bringing yuh up inland--away
+from the old devil sea--where yuh'd be safe--Gawd! [The irony of it
+strikes her sense of humor and she laughs hoarsely.]
+
+ANNA--[Angrily.] His bringing me up! Is that what he tells people! I
+like his nerve! He let them cousins of my Old Woman's keep me on their
+farm and work me to death like a dog.
+
+MARTHY--Well, he's got queer notions on some things. I've heard him say
+a farm was the best place for a kid.
+
+ANNA--Sure. That's what he'd always answer back--and a lot of crazy
+stuff about staying away from the sea--stuff I couldn't make head or
+tail to. I thought he must be nutty.
+
+MARTHY--He is on that one point. [Casually.] So yuh didn't fall for
+life on the farm, huh?
+
+ANNA--I should say not! The old man of the family, his wife, and four
+sons--I had to slave for all of 'em. I was only a poor relation, and
+they treated me worse than they dare treat a hired girl. [After a
+moment's hesitation--somberly.] It was one of the sons--the
+youngest--started me--when I was sixteen. After that, I hated 'em so
+I'd killed 'em all if I'd stayed. So I run away--to St. Paul.
+
+MARTHY--[Who has been listening sympathetically.] I've heard Old Chris
+talkin' about your bein' a nurse girl out there. Was that all a bluff
+yuh put up when yuh wrote him?
+
+ANNA--Not on your life, it wasn't. It was true for two years. I didn't
+go wrong all at one jump. Being a nurse girl was yust what finished me.
+Taking care of other people's kids, always listening to their bawling
+and crying, caged in, when you're only a kid yourself and want to go
+out and see things. At last I got the chance--to get into that house.
+And you bet your life I took it! [Defiantly.] And I ain't sorry
+neither. [After a pause--with bitter hatred.] It was all men's
+fault--the whole business. It was men on the farm ordering and beating
+me--and giving me the wrong start. Then when I was a nurse, it was men
+again hanging around, bothering me, trying to see what they could get.
+[She gives a hard laugh.] And now it's men all the time. Gawd, I hate
+'em all, every mother's son of 'em! Don't you?
+
+MARTHY--Oh, I dunno. There's good ones and bad ones, kid. You've just
+had a run of bad luck with 'em, that's all. Your Old Man, now--old
+Chris--he's a good one.
+
+ANNA--[Sceptically.] He'll have to show me.
+
+MARTHY--Yuh kept right on writing him yuh was a nurse girl still, even
+after yuh was in the house, didn't yuh?
+
+ANNA--Sure. [Cynically.] Not that I think he'd care a darn.
+
+MARTHY--Yuh're all wrong about him, kid, [Earnestly.] I know Old Chris
+well for a long time. He's talked to me 'bout you lots o' times. He
+thinks the world o' you, honest he does.
+
+ANNA--Aw, quit the kiddin'!
+
+MARTHY--Honest! Only, he's a simple old guy, see? He's got nutty
+notions. But he means well, honest. Listen to me, kid--[She is
+interrupted by the opening and shutting of the street door in the bar
+and by hearing CHRIS' voice.] Ssshh!
+
+ANNA--What's up?
+
+CHRIS--[Who has entered the bar. He seems considerably sobered up.] Py
+golly, Larry, dat grub taste good. Marthy in back?
+
+LARRY--Sure--and another tramp with her. [CHRIS starts for the entrance
+to the back room.]
+
+MARTHY--[To ANNA in a hurried, nervous whisper.] That's him now. He's
+comin' in here. Brace up!
+
+ANNA--Who? [Chris opens the door.]
+
+MARTHY--[As if she were greeting him for the first time]. Why hello,
+Old Chris. [Then before he can speak, she shuffles hurriedly past him
+into the bar, beckoning him to follow her.] Come here. I wanta tell yuh
+somethin'. [He goes out to her. She speaks hurriedly in a low voice.]
+Listen! I'm goin' to beat it down to the barge--pack up me duds and
+blow. That's her in there--your Anna--just come--waitin' for yuh. Treat
+her right, see? She's been sick. Well, s'long! [She goes into the back
+room--to ANNA.] S'long, kid. I gotta beat it now. See yuh later.
+
+ANNA--[Nervously.] So long. [MARTHY goes quickly out of the family
+entrance.] LARRY--[Looking at the stupefied CHRIS curiously.] Well,
+what's up now?
+
+CHRIS--[Vaguely.] Nutting--nutting. [He stands before the door to the
+back room in an agony of embarrassed emotion--then he forces himself to
+a bold decision, pushes open the door and walks in. He stands there,
+casts a shy glance at ANNA, whose brilliant clothes, and, to him,
+high-toned appearance awe him terribly. He looks about him with pitiful
+nervousness as if to avoid the appraising look with which she takes in
+his face, his clothes, etc--his voice seeming to plead for her
+forbearance.] Anna!
+
+ANNA--[Acutely embarrassed in her turn.] Hello--father. She told me it
+was you. I yust got here a little while ago.
+
+CHRIS--[Goes slowly over to her chair.] It's good--for see you--after
+all dem years, Anna. [He bends down over her. After an embarrassed
+struggle they manage to kiss each other.]
+
+ANNA--[A trace of genuine feeling in her voice.] It's good to see you,
+too.
+
+CHRIS--[Grasps her arms and looks into her face--then overcome by a
+wave of fierce tenderness.] Anna lilla! Anna lilla! [Takes her in his
+arms.]
+
+ANNA--[Shrinks away from him, half-frightened.] What's that--Swedish? I
+don't know it. [Then as if seeking relief from the tension in a voluble
+chatter.] Gee, I had an awful trip coming here. I'm all in. I had to
+sit up in the dirty coach all night--couldn't get no sleep, hardly--and
+then I had a hard job finding this place. I never been in New York
+before, you know, and--
+
+CHRIS--[Who has been staring down at her face admiringly, not hearing
+what she says--impulsively.] You know you vas awful pooty gel, Anna? Ay
+bet all men see you fall in love with you, py yiminy!
+
+ANNA--[Repelled--harshly.] Cut it! You talk same as they all do.
+
+CHRIS--[Hurt--humbly.] Ain't no harm for your fader talk dat vay, Anna.
+
+ANNA--[Forcing a short laugh.] No--course not. Only--it's funny to see
+you and not remember nothing. You're like--a stranger.
+
+CHRIS--[Sadly.] Ay s'pose. Ay never come home only few times ven you
+vas kit in Sveden. You don't remember dat?
+
+ANNA--No. [Resentfully.] But why didn't you never come home them days?
+Why didn't you never come out West to see me?
+
+CHRIS--[Slowly.] Ay tank, after your mo'der die, ven Ay vas avay on
+voyage, it's better for you you don't never see me! [He sinks down in
+the chair opposite her dejectedly--then turns to her--sadly.] Ay don't
+know, Anna, vhy Ay never come home Sveden in ole year. Ay vant come
+home end of every voyage. Ay vant see your mo'der, your two bro'der
+before dey vas drowned, you ven you vas born--but--Ay--don't go. Ay
+sign on oder ships--go South America, go Australia, go China, go every
+port all over world many times--but Ay never go aboard ship sail for
+Sveden. Ven Ay gat money for pay passage home as passenger den--[He
+bows his head guiltily.] Ay forgat and Ay spend all money. Ven Ay tank
+again, it's too late. [He sighs.] Ay don't know vhy but dat's vay with
+most sailor fallar, Anna. Dat ole davil sea make dem crazy fools with
+her dirty tricks. It's so.
+
+ANNA--[Who has watched him keenly while he has been speaking--with a
+trace of scorn in her voice.] Then you think the sea's to blame for
+everything, eh? Well, you're still workin' on it, ain't you, spite of
+all you used to write me about hating it. That dame was here told me
+you was captain of a coal barge--and you wrote me you was yanitor of a
+building!
+
+CHRIS--[Embarrassed but lying glibly.] Oh, Ay work on land long time as
+yanitor. Yust short time ago Ay got dis yob cause Ay vas sick, need
+open air.
+
+ANNA--[Sceptically.] Sick? You? You'd never think it.
+
+CHRIS--And, Anna, dis ain't real sailor yob. Dis ain't real boat on
+sea. She's yust ole tub--like piece of land with house on it dat float.
+Yob on her ain't sea yob. No. Ay don't gat yob on sea, Anna, if Ay die
+first. Ay swear dat, ven your mo'der die. Ay keep my word, py yingo!
+
+ANNA--[Perplexed.] Well, I can't see no difference. [Dismissing the
+subject.] Speaking of being sick, I been there myself--yust out of the
+hospital two weeks ago.
+
+CHRIS--[Immediately all concern.] You, Anna? Py golly! [Anxiously.] You
+feel better now, dough, don't you? You look little tired, dat's all!
+
+ANNA--[Wearily.] I am. Tired to death. I need a long rest and I don't
+see much chance of getting it.
+
+CHRIS--What you mean, Anna?
+
+ANNA--Well, when I made up my mind to come to see you, I thought you
+was a yanitor--that you'd have a place where, maybe, if you didn't mind
+having me, I could visit a while and rest up--till I felt able to get
+back on the job again.
+
+CHRIS--[Eagerly.] But Ay gat place, Anna--nice place. You rest all you
+want, py yiminy! You don't never have to vork as nurse gel no more. You
+stay with me, py golly!
+
+ANNA--[Surprised and pleased by his eagerness--with a smile.] Then
+you're really glad to see me--honest?
+
+CHRIS--[Pressing one of her hands in both of his.] Anna, Ay like see
+you like hell, Ay tal you! And don't you talk no more about gatting
+yob. You stay with me. Ay don't see you for long time, you don't forgat
+dat. [His voice trembles.] Ay'm gatting ole. Ay gat no one in vorld but
+you.
+
+ANNA--[Touched--embarrassed by this unfamiliar emotion.] Thanks. It
+sounds good to hear someone--talk to me that way. Say, though--if
+you're so lonely--it's funny--why ain't you ever married again?
+
+CHRIS--[Shaking his head emphatically--after a pause.] Ay love your
+mo'der too much for ever do dat, Anna.
+
+ANNA--[Impressed--slowly.] I don't remember nothing about her. What was
+she like? Tell me.
+
+CHRIS--Ay tal you all about everytang--and you tal me all tangs happen
+to you. But not here now. Dis ain't good place for young gel, anyway.
+Only no good sailor fallar come here for gat drunk. [He gets to his
+feet quickly and picks up her bag.] You come with me, Anna. You need
+lie down, gat rest.
+
+ANNA--[Half rises to her feet, then sits down again.] Where're you
+going?
+
+CHRIS--Come. Ve gat on board.
+
+ANNA--[Disappointedly.] On board your barge, you mean? [Dryly.] Nix for
+mine! [Then seeing his crestfallen look--forcing a smile.] Do you think
+that's a good place for a young girl like me--a coal barge?
+
+CHRIS--[Dully.] Yes, Ay tank. [He hesitates--then continues more and
+more pleadingly.] You don't know how nice it's on barge, Anna. Tug come
+and ve gat towed out on voyage--yust water all round, and sun, and
+fresh air, and good grub for make you strong, healthy gel. You see many
+tangs you don't see before. You gat moonlight at night, maybe; see
+steamer pass; see schooner make sail--see everytang dat's pooty. You
+need take rest like dat. You work too hard for young gel already. You
+need vacation, yes!
+
+ANNA--[Who has listened to him with a growing interest--with an
+uncertain laugh.] It sounds good to hear you tell it. I'd sure like a
+trip on the water, all right. It's the barge idea has me stopped. Well,
+I'll go down with you and have a look--and maybe I'll take a chance.
+Gee, I'd do anything once.
+
+CHRIS--[Picks up her bag again.] Ye go, eh?
+
+ANNA--What's the rush? Wait a second. [Forgetting the situation for a
+moment, she relapses into the familiar form and flashes one of her
+winning trade smiles at him.] Gee, I'm thirsty.
+
+CHRIS--[Sets down her bag immediately--hastily.] Ay'm sorry, Anna. What
+you tank you like for drink, eh?
+
+ANNA--[Promptly.] I'll take a--[Then suddenly reminded--confusedly.] I
+don't know. What'a they got here?
+
+CHRIS--[With a grin.] Ay don't tank dey got much fancy drink for young
+gel in dis place, Anna. Yinger ale--sas'prilla, maybe.
+
+ANNA--[Forcing a laugh herself.] Make it sas, then.
+
+CHRIS--[Coming up to her--with a wink.] Ay tal you, Anna, we calabrate,
+yes--dis one time because we meet after many year. [In a half whisper,
+embarrassedly.] Dey gat good port wine, Anna. It's good for you. Ay
+tank--little bit--for give you appetite. It ain't strong, neider. One
+glass don't go to your head, Ay promise.
+
+ANNA--[With a half hysterical laugh.] All right! I'll take port.
+
+CHRIS--Ay go gat him. [He goes out to the bar. As soon as the door
+closes, Anna starts to her feet.]
+
+ANNA--[Picking up her bag--half--aloud--stammeringly.] Gawd, I can't
+stand this! I better beat it. [Then she lets her bag drop, stumbles
+over to her chair again, and covering her face with her hands, begins
+to sob.]
+
+LARRY--[Putting down his paper as CHRIS comes up--with a grin.] Well,
+who's the blond?
+
+CHRIS--[Proudly.] Dat vas Anna, Larry.
+
+LARRY--[In amazement.] Your daughter, Anna? [CHRIS nods. LARRY lets a
+long, low whistle escape him and turns away embarrassedly.]
+
+CHRIS--Don't you tank she vas pooty gel, Larry?
+
+LARRY--[Rising to the occasion.] Sure! A peach!
+
+CHRIS--You bet you! Give me drink for take back--one port vine for
+Anna--she calabrate dis one time with me--and small beer for me.
+
+LARRY--[As he gets the drinks.] Small beer for you, eh? She's reformin'
+you already.
+
+CHRIS--[Pleased.] You bet! [He takes the drinks. As she hears him
+coming, ANNA hastily dries her eyes, tries to smile. CHRIS comes in and
+sets the drinks down on the table--stares at her for a second
+anxiously--patting her hand.] You look tired, Anna. Veil, Ay make you
+take good long rest now. [Picking up his beer.] Come, you drink vine.
+It put new life in you. [She lifts her glass--he grins.] Skoal, Anna!
+You know dat Svedish word?
+
+ANNA--Skoal! [Downing her port at a gulp like a drink of whiskey--her
+lips trembling.] Skoal? Guess I know that word, all right, all right!
+
+[The Curtain Falls]
+
+
+
+
+
+Act II
+
+
+SCENE--Ten days later. The stern of the deeply-laden barge, "SIMEON
+WINTHROP," at anchor in the outer harbor of Provincetown, Mass. It is
+ten o'clock at night. Dense fog shrouds the barge on all sides, and she
+floats motionless on a calm. A lantern set up on an immense coil of
+thick hawser sheds a dull, filtering light on objects near it--the
+heavy steel bits for making fast the tow lines, etc. In the rear is the
+cabin, its misty windows glowing wanly with the light of a lamp inside.
+The chimney of the cabin stove rises a few feet above the roof. The
+doleful tolling of bells, on Long Point, on ships at anchor, breaks the
+silence at regular intervals.
+
+As the curtain rises, ANNA is discovered standing near the coil of rope
+on which the lantern is placed. She looks healthy, transformed, the
+natural color has come back to her face. She has on a black, oilskin
+coat, but wears no hat. She is staring out into the fog astern with an
+expression of awed wonder. The cabin door is pushed open and CHRIS
+appears. He is dressed in yellow oilskins--coat, pants, sou'wester--and
+wears high sea-boots.
+
+CHRIS--[The glare from the cabin still in his eyes, peers blinkmgly
+astern.] Anna! [Receiving no reply, he calls again, this time with
+apparent apprehension.] Anna!
+
+ANNA--[With a start--making a gesture with her hand as if to impose
+silence--in a hushed whisper.] Yes, here I am. What d'you want?
+
+CHRIS--[Walks over to her--solicitously.] Don't you come turn in, Anna?
+It's late--after four bells. It ain't good for you stay out here in
+fog, Ay tank.
+
+ANNA--Why not? [With a trace of strange exultation.] I love this fog!
+Honest! It's so--[She hesitates, groping for a word.]--Funny and still.
+I feel as if I was--out of things altogether.
+
+CHRIS--[Spitting disgustedly.] Fog's vorst one of her dirty tricks, py
+yingo!
+
+ANNA--[With a short laugh.] Beefing about the sea again? I'm getting
+so's I love it, the little I've seen.
+
+CHRIS--[Glancing at her moodily.] Dat's foolish talk, Anna. You see her
+more, you don't talk dat vay. [Then seeing her irritation, he hastily
+adopts a more cheerful tone.] But Ay'm glad you like it on barge. Ay'm
+glad it makes you feel good again. [With a placating grin.] You like
+live like dis alone with ole fa'der, eh?
+
+ANNA--Sure I do. Everything's been so different from anything I ever
+come across before. And now--this fog--Gee, I wouldn't have missed it
+for nothing. I never thought living on ships was so different from
+land. Gee, I'd just love to work on it, honest I would, if I was a man.
+I don't wonder you always been a sailor.
+
+CHRIS--[Vehemently.] Ay ain't sailor, Anna. And dis ain't real sea. You
+only see nice part. [Then as she doesn't answer, he continues
+hopefully.] Vell, fog lift in morning, Ay tank.
+
+ANNA--[The exultation again in her voice.] I love it! I don't give a
+rap if it never lifts! [CHRIS fidgets from one foot to the other
+worriedly. ANNA continues slowly, after a pause.] It makes me feel
+clean--out here--'s if I'd taken a bath.
+
+CHRIS--[After a pause.] You better go in cabin--read book. Dat put you
+to sleep.
+
+ANNA--I don't want to sleep. I want to stay out here--and think about
+things.
+
+CHRIS--[Walks away from her toward the cabin--then comes back.] You act
+funny to-night, Anna.
+
+ANNA--[Her voice rising angrily.] Say, what're you trying to do--make
+things rotten? You been kind as kind can be to me and I certainly
+appreciate it--only don't spoil it all now. [Then, seeing the hurt
+expression on her father's face, she forces a smile.] Let's talk of
+something else. Come. Sit down here. [She points to the coil of rope.]
+
+CHRIS--[Sits down beside her with a sigh.] It's gatting pooty late in
+night, Anna. Must be near five bells.
+
+ANNA--[Interestedly.] Five bells? What time is that?
+
+CHRIS--Half past ten.
+
+ANNA--Funny I don't know nothing about sea talk--but those cousins was
+always talking crops and that stuff. Gee, wasn't I sick of it--and of
+them!
+
+CHRIS--You don't like live on farm, Anna?
+
+ANNA--I've told you a hundred times I hated it. [Decidedly.] I'd rather
+have one drop of ocean than all the farms in the world! Honest! And you
+wouldn't like a farm, neither. Here's where you belong. [She makes a
+sweeping gesture seaward.] But not on a coal barge. You belong on a
+real ship, sailing all over the world.
+
+CHRIS--[Moodily.] Ay've done dat many year, Anna, when Ay vas damn fool.
+
+ANNA--[Disgustedly.] Oh, rats! [After a pause she speaks musingly.] Was
+the men in our family always sailors--as far back as you know about?
+
+CHRIS--[Shortly.] Yes. Damn fools! All men in our village on coast,
+Sveden, go to sea. Ain't nutting else for dem to do. My fa'der die on
+board ship in Indian Ocean. He's buried at sea. Ay don't never know him
+only little bit. Den my tree bro'der, older'n me, dey go on ships. Den
+Ay go, too. Den my mo'der she's left all 'lone. She die pooty quick
+after dat--all 'lone. Ve vas all avay on voyage when she die. [He
+pauses sadly.] Two my bro'der dey gat lost on fishing boat same like
+your bro'ders vas drowned. My oder bro'der, he save money, give up sea,
+den he die home in bed. He's only one dat ole davil don't kill.
+[Defiantly.] But me, Ay bet you Ay die ashore in bed, too!
+
+ANNA--Were all of 'em yust plain sailors?
+
+CHEIS--Able body seaman, most of dem. [With a certain pride.] Dey vas
+all smart seaman, too--A one. [Then after hesitating a moment--shyly.]
+Ay vas bo'sun.
+
+ANNA--Bo'sun?
+
+CHRIS--Dat's kind of officer.
+
+ANNA--Gee, that was fine. What does he do?
+
+CHRIS--[After a second's hesitation, plunged into gloom again by his
+fear of her enthusiasm.] Hard vork all time. It's rotten, Ay tal you,
+for go to sea. [Determined to disgust her with sea life--volubly.]
+Dey're all fool fallar, dem fallar in our family. Dey all vork rotten
+yob on sea for nutting, don't care nutting but yust gat big pay day in
+pocket, gat drunk, gat robbed, ship avay again on oder voyage. Dey
+don't come home, Dey don't do anytang like good man do. And dat ole
+davil, sea, sooner, later she svallow dem up.
+
+ANNA--[With an excited laugh.] Good sports, I'd call 'em. [Then
+hastily.] But say--listen--did all the women of the family marry
+sailors?
+
+CHRIS--[Eagerly--seeing a chance to drive home his point.] Yes--and
+it's bad on dem like hell vorst of all. Dey don't see deir men only
+once in long while. Dey set and vait all 'lone. And vhen deir boys
+grows up, go to sea, dey sit and vait some more. [Vehemently.] Any gel
+marry sailor, she's crazy fool! Your mo'der she tal you same tang if
+she vas alive. [He relapses into an attitude of somber brooding.]
+
+ANNA--[After a pause--dreamily.] Funny! I do feel sort of--nutty,
+to-night. I feel old.
+
+CHRIS--[Mystified. ] Old?
+
+ANNA--Sure--like I'd been living a long, long time--out here in the
+fog. [Frowning perplexedly.] I don't know how to tell you yust what I
+mean. It's like I'd come home after a long visit away some place. It
+all seems like I'd been here before lots of times--on boats--in this
+same fog. [With a short laugh.] You must think I'm off my base.
+
+CHRIS--[Gruffly.] Anybody feel funny dat vay in fog.
+
+ANNA--[Persistently.] But why d'you s'pose I feel so--so--like I'd
+found something I'd missed and been looking for--'s if this was the
+right place for me to fit in? And I seem to have forgot--everything
+that's happened--like it didn't matter no more. And I feel clean,
+somehow--like you feel yust after you've took a bath. And I feel happy
+for once--yes, honest!--happier than I ever been anywhere before! [As
+CHRIS makes no comment but a heavy sigh, she continues wonderingly.]
+It's nutty for me to feel that way, don't you think?
+
+CHRIS--[A grim foreboding in his voice.] Ay tank Ay'm damn fool for
+bring you on voyage, Anna.
+
+ANNA--[Impressed by his tone.] You talk--nutty to-night yourself. You
+act's if you was scared something was going to happen.
+
+CHRIS--Only God know dat, Anna.
+
+ANNA--[Half-mockingly.] Then it'll be Gawd's will, like the preachers
+say-what does happen.
+
+CHRIS--[Starts to his feet with fierce protest.] No! Dat ole davil,
+sea, she ain't God! [In the pause of silence that comes after his
+defiance a hail in a man's husky, exhausted voice comes faintly out of
+the fog to port.] "Ahoy!" [CHRIS gives a startled exclamation.]
+
+ANNA--[Jumping to her feet.] What's that?
+
+CHRIS--[Who has regained his composure--sheepishly.] Py golly, dat
+scare me for minute. It's only some fallar hail, Anna--loose his course
+in fog. Must be fisherman's power boat. His engine break down, Ay
+guess. [The "ahoy" comes again through the wall of fog, sounding much
+nearer this time. CHRIS goes over to the port bulwark.] Sound from dis
+side. She come in from open sea. [He holds his hands to his mouth,
+megaphone-fashion, and shouts back.] Ahoy, dere! Vhat's trouble?
+
+THE VOICE--[This time sounding nearer but up forward toward the bow.]
+Heave a rope when we come alongside. [Then irritably.] Where are ye, ye
+scut?
+
+CHRIS--Ay hear dem rowing. Dey come up by bow, Ay tank. [Then shouting
+out again.] Dis vay!
+
+THE VOICE--Right ye are! [There is a muffled sound of oars in
+oar-locks.]
+
+ANNA--[Half to herself--resentfully.] Why don't that guy stay where he
+belongs?
+
+CHRIS--[Hurriedly.] Ay go up bow. All hands asleep 'cepting fallar on
+vatch. Ay gat heave line to dat fallar. [He picks up a coil of rope and
+hurries off toward the bow. ANNA walks back toward the extreme stern as
+if she wanted to remain as much isolated possible. She turns her back
+on the proceedings and stares out into the fog. THE VOICE is heard
+again shouting "Ahoy" and CHRIS answering "Dis way" Then there is a
+pause--the murmur of excited voices--then the scuffling of feet. CHRIS
+appears from around the cabin to port. He is supporting the limp form
+of a man dressed in dungarees, holding one of the man's arms around his
+neck. The deckhand, JOHNSON, a young, blond Swede, follows him, helping
+along another exhausted man similar fashion. ANNA turns to look at
+them. Chris stops for a second--volubly.] Anna! You come help, vill
+you? You find vhiskey in cabin. Dese fallars need drink for fix dem.
+Dey vas near dead.
+
+ANNA--[Hurrying to him.] Sure--but who are they? What's the trouble?
+
+CHRIS--Sailor fallars. Deir steamer gat wrecked. Dey been five days in
+open boat--four fallars--only one left able stand up. Come, Anna. [She
+precedes him into the cabin, holding the door open while he and JOHNSON
+carry in their burdens. The door is shut, then opened again as JOHNSON
+comes out. CHRIS'S voice shouts after him.] Go gat oder fallar, Yohnson.
+
+JOHNSON--Yes, sir. [He goes. The door is closed again. MAT BURKE
+stumbles in around the port side of the cabin. He moves slowly, feeling
+his way uncertainly, keeping hold of the port bulwark with his right
+hand to steady himself. He is stripped to the waist, has on nothing but
+a pair of dirty dungaree pants. He is a powerful, broad-chested
+six-footer, his face handsome in a hard, rough, bold, defiant way. He
+is about thirty, in the full power of his heavy-muscled, immense
+strength. His dark eyes are bloodshot and wild from sleeplessness. The
+muscles of his arms and shoulders are lumped in knots and bunches, the
+veins of his forearms stand out like blue cords. He finds his way to
+the coil of hawser and sits down on it facing the cabin, his back
+bowed, head in his hands, in an attitude of spent weariness.]
+
+BURKE--[Talking aloud to himself.] Row, ye divil! Row! [Then lifting
+his head and looking about him.] What's this tub? Well, we're safe
+anyway--with the help of God. [He makes the sign of the cross
+mechanically. JOHNSON comes along the deck to port, supporting the
+fourth man, who is babbling to himself incoherently. BURKE glances at
+him disdainfully.] Is it losing the small wits ye iver had, ye are?
+Deck-scrubbing scut! [They pass him and go into the cabin, leaving the
+door open. BURKE sags forward wearily.] I'm bate out--bate out entirely.
+
+ANNA--[Comes out of the cabin with a tumbler quarter-full of whiskey in
+her hand. She gives a start when she sees BURKE so near her, the light
+from the open door falling full on him. Then, overcoming what is
+evidently a feeling of repulsion, she comes up beside him.] Here you
+are. Here's a drink for you. You need it, I guess.
+
+BURKE--[Lifting his head slowly--confusedly.] Is it dreaming I am?
+
+ANNA--[Half smiling.] Drink it and you'll find it ain't no dream.
+
+BURKE--To hell with the drink--but I'll take it just the same. [He
+tosses it down.] Aah! I'm needin' that--and 'tis fine stuff. [Looking
+up at her with frank, grinning admiration.] But 'twasn't the booze I
+meant when I said, was I dreaming. I thought you was some mermaid out
+of the sea come to torment me. [He reaches out to feel of her arm.]
+Aye, rale flesh and blood, divil a less.
+
+ANNA--[Coldly. Stepping back from him.] Cut that.
+
+BURKE--But tell me, isn't this a barge I'm on--or isn't it?
+
+ANNA--Sure.
+
+BURKE--And what is a fine handsome woman the like of you doing on this
+scow?
+
+ANNA--[Coldly.] Never you mind. [Then half-amused in spite of herself.]
+Say, you're a great one, honest--starting right in kidding after what
+you been through.
+
+BURKE--[Delighted--proudly.] Ah, it was nothing--aisy for a rale man
+with guts to him, the like of me. [He laughs.] All in the day's work,
+darlin'. [Then, more seriously but still in a boastful tone,
+confidentially.] But I won't be denying 'twas a damn narrow squeak.
+We'd all ought to be with Davy Jones at the bottom of the sea, be
+rights. And only for me, I'm telling you, and the great strength and
+guts is in me, we'd be being scoffed by the fishes this minute!
+
+ANNA--[Contemptuously.] Gee, you hate yourself, don't you? [Then
+turning away from him indifferently.] Well, you'd better come in and
+lie down. You must want to sleep.
+
+BURKE--[Stung--rising unsteadily to his feet with chest out and head
+thrown back--resentfully.] Lie down and sleep, is it? Divil a wink I'm
+after having for two days and nights and divil a bit I'm needing now.
+Let you not be thinking I'm the like of them three weak scuts come in
+the boat with me. I could lick the three of them sitting down with one
+hand tied behind me. They may be bate out, but I'm not--and I've been
+rowing the boat with them lying in the bottom not able to raise a hand
+for the last two days we was in it. [Furiously, as he sees this is
+making no impression on her.] And I can lick all hands on this tub, wan
+be wan, tired as I am!
+
+ANNA--[Sarcastically.] Gee, ain't you a hard guy! [Then, with a trace
+of sympathy, as she notices him swaying from weakness.] But never mind
+that fight talk. I'll take your word for all you've said. Go on and sit
+down out here, anyway, if I can't get you to come inside. [He sits down
+weakly.] You're all in, you might as well own up to it.
+
+BURKE--[Fiercely.] The hell I am!
+
+ANNA--[Coldly.] Well, be stubborn then for all I care. And I must say I
+don't care for your language. The men I know don't pull that rough
+stuff when ladies are around.
+
+BURKE--[Getting unsteadily to his feet again--in a rage.] Ladies!
+Ho-ho! Divil mend you! Let you not be making game of me. What would
+ladies be doing on this bloody hulk? [As ANNA attempts to go to the
+cabin, he lurches into her path.] Aisy, now! You're not the old
+Square-head's woman, I suppose you'll be telling me next--living in his
+cabin with him, no less! [Seeing the cold, hostile expression on ANNA's
+face, he suddenly changes his tone to one of boisterous joviality.] But
+I do be thinking, iver since the first look my eyes took at you, that
+it's a fool you are to be wasting yourself--a fine, handsome girl--on a
+stumpy runt of a man like that old Swede. There's too many strapping
+great lads on the sea would give their heart's blood for one kiss of
+you!
+
+ANNA--[Scornfully.] Lads like you, eh?
+
+BURKE--[Grinning.] Ye take the words out o' my mouth. I'm the proper
+lad for you, if it's meself do be saying it. [With a quick movement he
+puts his arms about her waist.] Whisht, now, me daisy! Himself's in the
+cabin. It's wan of your kisses I'm needing to take the tiredness from
+me bones. Wan kiss, now! [He presses her to him and attempts to kiss
+her.]
+
+ANNA--[Struggling fiercely.] Leggo of me, you big mut! [She pushes him
+away with all her might. BURKE, weak and tottering, is caught off his
+guard. He is thrown down backward and, in falling, hits his head a hard
+thump against the bulwark. He lies there still, knocked out for the
+moment. ANNA stands for a second, looking down at him frightenedly.
+Then she kneels down beside him and raises his head to her knee,
+staring into his face anxiously for some sign of life.]
+
+BURKE--[Stirring a bit--mutteringly.] God stiffen it! [He opens his
+eyes and blinks up at her with vague wonder.]
+
+ANNA--[Letting his head sink back on the deck, rising to her feet with
+a sigh of relief.] You're coming to all right, eh? Gee, I was scared
+for a moment I'd killed you.
+
+BURKE--[With difficulty rising to a sitting position--scornfully.]
+Killed, is it? It'd take more than a bit of a blow to crack my thick
+skull. [Then looking at her with the most intense admiration.] But,
+glory be, it's a power of strength is in them two fine arms of yours.
+There's not a man in the world can say the same as you, that he seen
+Mat Burke lying at his feet and him dead to the world.
+
+ANNA--[Rather remorsefully.] Forget it. I'm sorry it happened, see?
+[BURKE rises and sits on bench. Then severely.] Only you had no right
+to be getting fresh with me. Listen, now, and don't go getting any more
+wrong notions. I'm on this barge because I'm making a trip with my
+father. The captain's my father. Now you know.
+
+BURKE--The old square--the old Swede, I mean?
+
+ANNA--Yes.
+
+BURKE--[Rising--peering at her face.] Sure I might have known it, if I
+wasn't a bloody fool from birth. Where else'd you get that fine yellow
+hair is like a golden crown on your head.
+
+ANNA--[With an amused laugh.] Say, nothing stops you, does it? [Then
+attempting a severe tone again.] But don't you think you ought to be
+apologizing for what you said and done yust a minute ago, instead of
+trying to kid me with that mush?
+
+BURKE--[Indignantly.] Mush! [Then bending forward toward her with very
+intense earnestness.] Indade and I will ask your pardon a thousand
+times--and on my knees, if ye like. I didn't mean a word of what I said
+or did. [Resentful again for a second.] But divil a woman in all the
+ports of the world has iver made a great fool of me that way before!
+
+ANNA--[With amused sarcasm.] I see. You mean you're a lady-killer and
+they all fall for you.
+
+BURKE--[Offended. Passionately.] Leave off your fooling! 'Tis that is
+after getting my back up at you. [Earnestly.] 'Tis no lie I'm telling
+you about the women. [Ruefully.] Though it's a great jackass I am to be
+mistaking you, even in anger, for the like of them cows on the
+waterfront is the only women I've met up with since I was growed to a
+man. [As ANNA shrinks away from him at this, he hurries on pleadingly.]
+I'm a hard, rough man and I'm not fit, I'm thinking, to be kissing the
+shoe-soles of a fine, dacent girl the like of yourself. 'Tis only the
+ignorance of your kind made me see you wrong. So you'll forgive me, for
+the love of God, and let us be friends from this out. [Passionately.]
+I'm thinking I'd rather be friends with you than have my wish for
+anything else in the world. [He holds out his hand to her shyly.]
+
+ANNA--[Looking queerly at him, perplexed and worried, but moved and
+pleased in spite of herself--takes his hand uncertainly.] Sure.
+
+BURKE--[With boyish delight.] God bless you! [In his excitement he
+squeezes her hand tight.]
+
+ANNA--Ouch!
+
+BURKE--[Hastily dropping her hand--ruefully.] Your pardon, Miss. 'Tis a
+clumsy ape I am. [Then simply--glancing down his arm proudly.] It's
+great power I have in my hand and arm, and I do be forgetting it at
+times.
+
+ANNA--[Nursing her crushed hand and glancing at his arm, not without a
+trace of his own admiration.] Gee, you're some strong, all right.
+
+BURKE--[Delighted.] It's no lie, and why shouldn't I be, with me
+shoveling a million tons of coal in the stokeholes of ships since I was
+a lad only. [He pats the coil of hawser invitingly.] Let you sit down,
+now, Miss, and I'll be telling you a bit of myself, and you'll be
+telling me a bit of yourself, and in an hour we'll be as old friends as
+if we was born in the same house. [He pulls at her sleeve shyly.] Sit
+down now, if you plaze.
+
+ANNA--[With a half laugh.] Well--[She sits down.] But we won't talk
+about me, see? You tell me about yourself and about the wreck.
+
+BURKE--[Flattered.] I'll tell you, surely. But can I be asking you one
+question. Miss, has my head in a puzzle?
+
+ANNA--[Guardedly.] Well--I dunno--what is it?
+
+BURKE--What is it you do when you're not taking a trip with the Old
+Man? For I'm thinking a fine girl the like of you ain't living always
+on this tub.
+
+ANNA--[Uneasily.] No--of course I ain't. [She searches his face
+suspiciously, afraid there may be some hidden insinuation in his words.
+Seeing his simple frankness, she goes on confidently.] Well, I'll tell
+you. I'm a governess, see? I take care of kids for people and learn
+them things.
+
+BURKE--[Impressed.] A governess, is it? You must be smart, surely.
+
+ANNA--But let's not talk about me. Tell me about the wreck, like you
+promised me you would.
+
+BURKE--[Importantly.] 'Twas this way, Miss. Two weeks out we ran into
+the divil's own storm, and she sprang wan hell of a leak up for'ard.
+The skipper was hoping to make Boston before another blow would finish
+her, but ten days back we met up with another storm the like of the
+first, only worse. Four days we was in it with green seas raking over
+her from bow to stern. That was a terrible time, God help us.
+[Proudly.] And if 'twasn't for me and my great strength, I'm telling
+you--and it's God's truth--there'd been mutiny itself in the stokehole.
+'Twas me held them to it, with a kick to wan and a clout to another,
+and they not caring a damn for the engineers any more, but fearing a
+clout of my right arm more than they'd fear the sea itself. [He glances
+at her anxiously, eager for her approval.]
+
+ANNA--[Concealing a smile--amused by this boyish boasting of his.] You
+did some hard work, didn't you?
+
+BURKE--[Promptly.] I did that! I'm a divil for sticking it out when
+them that's weak give up. But much good it did anyone! 'Twas a mad,
+fightin' scramble in the last seconds with each man for himself. I
+disremember how it come about, but there was the four of us in wan boat
+and when we was raised high on a great wave I took a look about and
+divil a sight there was of ship or men on top of the sea.
+
+ANNA--[In a subdued voice.] Then all the others was drowned?
+
+BURKE--They was, surely.
+
+ANNA--[With a shudder.] What a terrible end!
+
+BURKE--[Turns to her.] A terrible end for the like of them swabs does
+live on land, maybe. But for the like of us does be roaming the seas, a
+good end, I'm telling you--quick and clane.
+
+ANNA--[Struck by the word.] Yes, clean. That's yust the word for--all
+of it--the way it makes me feel.
+
+BURKE--The sea, you mean? [Interestedly.] I'm thinking you have a bit
+of it in your blood, too. Your Old Man wasn't only a barge rat--begging
+your pardon--all his life, by the cut of him.
+
+ANNA--No, he was bo'sun on sailing ships for years. And all the men on
+both sides of the family have gone to sea as far back as he remembers,
+he says. All the women have married sailors, too.
+
+BURKE--[With intense satisfaction.] Did they, now? They had spirit in
+them. It's only on the sea you'd find rale men with guts is fit to wed
+with fine, high-tempered girls [Then he adds half-boldly] the like of
+yourself.
+
+ANNA--[With a laugh.] There you go kiddin' again. [Then seeing his hurt
+expression--quickly.] But you was going to tell me about yourself.
+You're Irish, of course I can tell that.
+
+BURKE--[Stoutly.] Yes, thank God, though I've not seen a sight of it in
+fifteen years or more.
+
+ANNA--[Thoughtfully.] Sailors never do go home hardly, do they? That's
+what my father was saying.
+
+BURKE--He wasn't telling no lie. [With sudden melancholy.] It's a hard
+and lonesome life, the sea is. The only women you'd meet in the ports
+of the world who'd be willing to speak you a kind word isn't woman at
+all. You know the kind I mane, and they're a poor, wicked lot, God
+forgive them. They're looking to steal the money from you only.
+
+ANNA--[Her face averted--rising to her feet--agitatedly.] I think--I
+guess I'd better see what's doing inside.
+
+BURKE--[Afraid he has offended her--beseechingly.] Don't go, I'm
+saying! Is it I've given you offence with my talk of the like of them?
+Don't heed it at all! I'm clumsy in my wits when it comes to talking
+proper with a girl the like of you. And why wouldn't I be? Since the
+day I left home for to go to sea punching coal, this is the first time
+I've had a word with a rale, dacent woman. So don't turn your back on
+me now, and we beginning to be friends.
+
+ANNA--[Turning to him again--forcing a smile.] I'm not sore at you,
+honest.
+
+BURKE--[Gratefully.] God bless you!
+
+ANNA--[Changing the subject abruptly.] But if you honestly think the
+sea's such a rotten life, why don't you get out of it?
+
+BURKE--[Surprised.] Work on land, is it? [She nods. He spits
+scornfully.] Digging spuds in the muck from dawn to dark, I suppose?
+[Vehemently.] I wasn't made for it, Miss.
+
+ANNA--[With a laugh.] I thought you'd say that.
+
+BURKE--[Argumentatively.] But there's good jobs and bad jobs at sea,
+like there'd be on land. I'm thinking if it's in the stokehole of a
+proper liner I was, I'd be able to have a little house and be home to
+it wan week out of four. And I'm thinking that maybe then I'd have the
+luck to find a fine dacent girl--the like of yourself, now--would be
+willing to wed with me.
+
+ANNA--[Turning away from him with a short laugh--uneasily.] Why, sure.
+Why not?
+
+BURKE--[Edging up close to her--exultantly.] Then you think a girl the
+like of yourself might maybe not mind the past at all but only be
+seeing the good herself put in me?
+
+ANNA--[In the same tone.] Why, sure.
+
+BURKE--[Passionately.] She'd not be sorry for it, I'd take my oath!
+'Tis no more drinking and roving about I'd be doing then, but giving my
+pay day into her hand and staying at home with her as meek as a lamb
+each night of the week I'd be in port.
+
+ANNA--[Moved in spite of herself and troubled by this half-concealed
+proposal--with a forced laugh.] All you got to do is find the girl.
+
+BURKE--I have found her!
+
+ANNA--[Half-frightenedly--trying to laugh it off.] You have? When? I
+thought you was saying--
+
+BURKE--[Boldly and forcefully.] This night. [Hanging his head--humbly.]
+If she'll be having me. [Then raising his eyes to hers--simply.] 'Tis
+you I mean.
+
+ANNA--[Is held by his eyes for a moment--then shrinks back from him
+with a strange, broken laugh.] Say--are you--going crazy? Are you
+trying to kid me? Proposing--to me!--for Gawd's sake!--on such short
+acquaintance? [CHRIS comes out of the cabin and stands staring
+blinkingly astern. When he makes out ANNA in such intimate proximity to
+this strange sailor, an angry expression comes over his face.]
+
+BURKE--[Following her--with fierce, pleading insistence.] I'm telling
+you there's the will of God in it that brought me safe through the
+storm and fog to the wan spot in the world where you was! Think of that
+now, and isn't it queer--
+
+CHRIS--Anna! [He comes toward them, raging, his fists clenched.] Anna,
+you gat in cabin, you hear!
+
+ANNA--[All her emotions immediately transformed into resentment at his
+bullying tone.] Who d'you think you're talking to--a slave?
+
+CHRIS--[Hurt--his voice breaking--pleadingly.] You need gat rest, Anna.
+You gat sleep. [She does not move. He turns on BURKE furiously.] What
+you doing here, you sailor fallar? You ain't sick like oders. You gat
+in fo'c's'tle. Dey give you bunk. [Threateningly.] You hurry, Ay tal
+you!
+
+ANNA--[Impulsively.] But he is sick. Look at him. He can hardly stand
+up.
+
+BURKE--[Straightening and throwing out his chest--with a bold laugh.]
+Is it giving me orders ye are, me bucko? Let you look out, then! With
+wan hand, weak as I am, I can break ye in two and fling the pieces over
+the side--and your crew after you. [Stopping abruptly.] I was
+forgetting. You're her Old Man and I'd not raise a fist to you for the
+world. [His knees sag, he wavers and seems about to fall. ANNA utters
+an exclamation of alarm and hurries to his slde.]
+
+ANNA--[Taking one of his arms over her shoulder.] Come on in the cabin.
+You can have my bed if there ain't no other place.
+
+BURKE--[With jubilant happiness--as they proceed toward the cabin.]
+Glory be to God, is it holding my arm about your neck you are! Anna!
+Anna! Sure it's a sweet name is suited to you.
+
+ANNA--[Guiding him carefully.] Sssh! Sssh!
+
+BURKE--Whisht, is it? Indade, and I'll not. I'll be roaring it out like
+a fog horn over the sea! You're the girl of the world and we'll be
+marrying soon and I don't care who knows it!
+
+ANNA--[As she guides him through the cabin door.] Ssshh! Never mind
+that talk. You go to sleep. [They go out of sight in the cabin. CHRIS,
+who has been listening to BURKE's last words with open-mouthed
+amazement stands looking after them helplessly.]
+
+CHRIS--[Turns suddenly and shakes his fist out at the sea--with bitter
+hatred.] Dat's your dirty trick, damn ole davil, you! [Then in a frenzy
+of rage.] But, py God, you don't do dat! Not while Ay'm living! No, py
+God, you don't!
+
+[The Curtain Falls]
+
+
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+SCENE--The interior of the cabin on the barge, "Simeon Winthrop" (at
+dock in Boston)--a narrow, low-ceilinged compartment the walls of which
+are painted a light brown with white trimmings. In the rear on the
+left, a door leading to the sleeping quarters. In the far left corner,
+a large locker-closet, painted white, on the door of which a mirror
+hangs on a nail. In the rear wall, two small square windows and a door
+opening out on the deck toward the stern. In the right wall, two more
+windows looking out on the port deck. White curtains, clean and stiff,
+are at the windows. A table with two cane-bottomed chairs stands in the
+center of the cabin. A dilapidated, wicker rocker, painted brown, is
+also by the table.
+
+It is afternoon of a sunny day about a week later. From the harbor and
+docks outside, muffled by the closed door and windows, comes the sound
+of steamers' whistles and the puffing snort of the donkey engines of
+some ship unloading nearby.
+
+As the curtain rises, CHRIS and ANNA are discovered. ANNA is seated in
+the rocking-chair by the table, with a newspaper in her hands. She is
+not reading but staring straight in front of her. She looks unhappy,
+troubled, frowningly concentrated on her thoughts. CHRIS wanders about
+the room, casting quick, uneasy side glances at her face, then stopping
+to peer absentmindedly out of the window. His attitude betrays an
+overwhelming, gloomy anxiety which has him on tenter hooks. He pretends
+to be engaged in setting things ship-shape, but this occupation is
+confined to picking up some object, staring at it stupidly for a
+second, then aimlessly putting it down again. He clears his throat and
+starts to sing to himself in a low, doleful voice: "My Yosephine, come
+aboard de ship. Long time Ay wait for you."
+
+ANNA--[Turning on him, sarcastically.] I'm glad someone's feeling good.
+[Wearily.] Gee, I sure wish we was out of this dump and back in New
+York.
+
+CHRIS--[With a sigh.] Ay'm glad vhen ve sail again, too. [Then, as she
+makes no comment, he goes on with a ponderous attempt at sarcasm.] Ay
+don't see vhy you don't like Boston, dough. You have good time here, Ay
+tank. You go ashore all time, every day and night veek ve've been here.
+You go to movies, see show, gat all kinds fun--[His eyes hard with
+hatred.] All with that damn Irish fallar!
+
+ANNA--[With weary scorn.] Oh, for heaven's sake, are you off on that
+again? Where's the harm in his taking me around? D'you want me to sit
+all day and night in this cabin with you--and knit? Ain't I got a right
+to have as good a time as I can?
+
+CHRIS--It ain't right kind of fun--not with that fallar, no.
+
+ANNA--I been back on board every night by eleven, ain't I? [Then struck
+by some thought--looks at him with keen suspicion--with rising anger.]
+Say, look here, what d'you mean by what you yust said?
+
+CHRIS--[Hastily.] Nutting but what Ay say, Anna.
+
+ANNA--You said "ain't right" and you said it funny. Say, listen here,
+you ain't trying to insinuate that there's something wrong between us,
+are you?
+
+CHRIS--[Horrified.] No, Anna! No, Ay svear to God, Ay never tank dat!
+
+ANNA--[Mollified by his very evident sincerity--sitting down again.]
+Well, don't you never think it neither if you want me ever to speak to
+you again. [Angrily again.] If I ever dreamt you thought that, I'd get
+the hell out of this barge so quick you couldn't see me for dust.
+
+CHRIS--[Soothingly.] Ay wouldn't never dream--[Then, after a second's
+pause, reprovingly.] You vas gatting learn to svear. Dat ain't nice for
+young gel, you tank?
+
+ANNA--[With a faint trace of a smile.] Excuse me. You ain't used to
+such language, I know. [Mockingly.] That's what your taking me to sea
+has done for me.
+
+CHRIS--[Indignantly.] No, it ain't me. It's dat damn sailor fallar
+learn you bad tangs.
+
+ANNA--He ain't a sailor. He's a stoker.
+
+CHRIS--[Forcibly.] Dat vas million times vorse, Ay tal you! Dem fallars
+dat vork below shoveling coal vas de dirtiest, rough gang of no-good
+fallars in vorld!
+
+ANNA--I'd hate to hear you say that to Mat.
+
+CHRIS--Oh, Ay tal him same tang. You don't gat it in head Ay'm scared
+of him yust 'cause he vas stronger'n Ay vas. [Menacingly.] You don't
+gat for fight with fists with dem fallars. Dere's oder vay for fix him.
+
+ANNA--[Glancing at him with sudden alarm.] What d'you mean?
+
+CHRIS--[Sullenly.] Nutting.
+
+ANNA--You'd better not. I wouldn't start no trouble with him if I was
+you. He might forget some time that you was old and my father--and then
+you'd be out of luck.
+
+CHRIS--[With smouldering hatred.] Vell, yust let him! Ay'm ole bird
+maybe, but Ay bet Ay show him trick or two.
+
+ANNA--[Suddenly changing her tone--persuasively.] Aw come on, be good.
+What's eating you, anyway? Don't you want no one to be nice to me
+except yourself?
+
+CHRIS--[Placated--coming to her--eagerly.] Yes, Ay do, Anna--only not
+fallar on sea. But Ay like for you marry steady fallar got good yob on
+land. You have little home in country all your own--
+
+ANNA--[Rising to her feet--brusquely.] Oh, cut it out! [Scornfully.]
+Little home in the country! I wish you could have seen the little home
+in the country where you had me in jail till I was sixteen! [With
+rising irritation.] Some day you're going to get me so mad with that
+talk, I'm going to turn loose on you and tell you--a lot of things
+that'll open your eyes.
+
+CHRIS--[Alarmed.] Ay don't vant--
+
+ANNA--I know you don't; but you keep on talking yust the same.
+
+CHRIS--Ay don't talk no more den, Anna.
+
+ANNA--Then promise me you'll cut out saying nasty things about Mat
+Burke every chance you get.
+
+CHRIS--[Evasive and suspicious.] Vhy? You like dat fallar--very much,
+Anna?
+
+ANNA--Yes, I certainly do! He's a regular man, no matter what faults
+he's got. One of his fingers is worth all the hundreds of men I met out
+there--inland.
+
+CHRIS--[His face darkening.] Maybe you tank you love him, den?
+
+ANNA--[Defiantly.] What of it if I do?
+
+CHRIS--[Scowling and forcing out the words.] Maybe--you tank you--marry
+him?
+
+ANNA--[Shaking her head.] No! [CHRIS' face lights up with relief. ANNA
+continues slowly, a trace of sadness in her voice.] If I'd met him four
+years ago--or even two years ago--I'd have jumped at the chance, I tell
+you that straight. And I would now--only he's such a simple guy--a big
+kid--and I ain't got the heart to fool him. [She breaks off suddenly.]
+But don't never say again he ain't good enough for me. It's me ain't
+good enough for him.
+
+CHRIS--[Snorts scornfully.] Py yiminy, you go crazy, Ay tank!
+
+ANNA--[With a mournful laugh.] Well, I been thinking I was myself the
+last few days. [She goes and takes a shawl from a hook near the door
+and throws it over her shoulders.] Guess I'll take a walk down to the
+end of the dock for a minute and see what's doing. I love to watch the
+ships passing. Mat'll be along before long, I guess. Tell him where I
+am, will you?
+
+CHRIS--[Despondently.] All right, Ay tal him. [ANNA goes out the
+doorway on rear. CHRIS follows her out and stands on the deck outside
+for a moment looking after her. Then he comes back inside and shuts the
+door. He stands looking out of the window--mutters--"Dirty die davil,
+you." Then he goes to the table, sets the cloth straight mechanically,
+picks up the newspaper ANNA has let fall to the floor and sits down in
+the rocking-chair. He stares at the paper for a while, then puts it on
+table, holds his head in his hands and sighs drearily. The noise of a
+man's heavy footsteps comes from the deck outside and there is a loud
+knock on the door. CHRIS starts, makes a move as if to get up and go to
+the door, then thinks better of it and sits still. The knock is
+repeated--then as no answer comes, the door is flung open and MAT BURKE
+appears. CHRIS scowls at the intruder and his hand instinctively goes
+back to the sheath knife on his hip. BURKE is dressed up--wears a cheap
+blue suit, a striped cotton shirt with a black tie, and black shoes
+newly shined. His face is beaming with good humor.]
+
+BURKE--[As he sees CHRIS--in a jovial tone of mockery.] Well, God bless
+who's here! [He bends down and squeezes his huge form through the
+narrow doorway.] And how is the world treating you this afternoon,
+Anna's father?
+
+CHRIS--[Sullenly.] Pooty goot--if it ain't for some fallars.
+BURKE--[With a grin.] Meaning me, do you? [He laughs.] Well, if you
+ain't the funny old crank of a man! [Then soberly.] Where's herself?
+[CHRIS sits dumb, scowling, his eyes averted. BURKE is irritated by
+this silence.] Where's Anna, I'm after asking you?
+
+CHRIS--[Hesitating--then grouchily.] She go down end of dock.
+
+BURKE--I'll be going down to her, then. But first I'm thinking I'll
+take this chance when we're alone to have a word with you. [He sits
+down opposite CHRIS at the table and leans over toward him.] And that
+word is soon said. I'm marrying your Anna before this day is out, and
+you might as well make up your mind to it whether you like it or no.
+
+CHRIS--[Glaring at him with hatred and forcing a scornful laugh.]
+Ho-ho! Dat's easy for say!
+
+BURKE--You mean I won't? [Scornfully.] Is it the like of yourself will
+stop me, are you thinking?
+
+CHRIS--Yes, Ay stop it, if it come to vorst.
+
+BURKE--[With scornful pity.] God help you!
+
+CHRIS--But ain't no need for me do dat. Anna--
+
+BURKE--[Smiling confidently.] Is it Anna you think will prevent me?
+
+CHRIS--Yes.
+
+BURKE--And I'm telling you she'll not. She knows I'm loving her, and
+she loves me the same, and I know it.
+
+CHRIS--Ho-ho! She only have fun. She make big fool of you, dat's all!
+
+BURKE--[Unshaken--pleasantly.] That's a lie in your throat, divil mend
+you!
+
+CHRIS--No, it ain't lie. She tal me yust before she go out she never
+marry fallar like you.
+
+BURKE--I'll not believe it. 'Tis a great old liar you are, and a divil
+to be making a power of trouble if you had your way. But 'tis not
+trouble I'm looking for, and me sitting down here. [Earnestly.] Let us
+be talking it out now as man to man. You're her father, and wouldn't it
+be a shame for us to be at each other's throats like a pair of dogs,
+and I married with Anna. So out with the truth, man alive. What is it
+you're holding against me at all?
+
+CHRIS--[A bit placated, in spite of himself, by BURKE'S evident
+sincerity--but puzzled and suspicious.] Vell--Ay don't vant for Anna
+gat married. Listen, you fallar. Ay'm a ole man. Ay don't see Anna for
+fifteen year. She vas all Ay gat in vorld. And now ven she come on
+first trip--you tank Ay vant her leave me 'lone again?
+
+BURKE--[Heartily.] Let you not be thinking I have no heart at all for
+the way you'd be feeling.
+
+CHRIS--[Astonished and encouraged--trying to plead persuasively.] Den
+you do right tang, eh? You ship avay again, leave Anna alone.
+[Cajolingly.] Big fallar like you dat's on sea, he don't need vife. He
+gat new gel in every port, you know dat.
+
+BURKE--[Angry for a second.] God stiffen you! [Then controlling
+himself--calmly.] I'll not be giving you the lie on that. But divil
+take you, there's a time comes to every man, on sea or land, that isn't
+a born fool, when he's sick of the lot of them cows, and wearing his
+heart out to meet up with a fine dacent girl, and have a home to call
+his own and be rearing up children in it. 'Tis small use you're asking
+me to leave Anna. She's the wan woman of the world for me, and I can't
+live without her now, I'm thinking.
+
+CHRIS--You forgat all about her in one veek out of port, Ay bet you!
+
+BURKE--You don't know the like I am. Death itself wouldn't make me
+forget her. So let you not be making talk to me about leaving her. I'll
+not, and be damned to you! It won't be so bad for you as you'd make out
+at all. She'll be living here in the States, and her married to me. And
+you'd be seeing her often so--a sight more often than ever you saw her
+the fifteen years she was growing up in the West. It's quare you'd be
+the one to be making great trouble about her leaving you when you never
+laid eyes on her once in all them years.
+
+CHRIS--[Guiltily.] Ay taught it vas better Anna stay avay, grow up
+inland where she don't ever know ole davil, sea.
+
+BURKE--[Scornfully.] Is it blaming the sea for your troubles ye are
+again, God help you? Well, Anna knows it now. 'Twas in her blood,
+anyway.
+
+CHRIS--And Ay don't vant she ever know no-good fallar on sea--
+
+BURKE--She knows one now.
+
+CHRIS--[Banging the table with his fist--furiously.] Dat's yust it!
+Dat's yust what you are--no-good, sailor fallar! You tank Ay lat her
+life be made sorry by you like her mo'der's vas by me! No, Ay svear!
+She don't marry you if Ay gat kill you first!
+
+BURKE--[Looks at him a moment, in astonishment--then laughing
+uproariously.] Ho-ho! Glory be to God, it's bold talk you have for a
+stumpy runt of a man!
+
+CHRIS--[Threateningly.] Vell--you see!
+
+BURKE--[With grinning defiance.] I'll see, surely! I'll see myself and
+Anna married this day, I'm telling you! [Then with contemptuous
+exasperation.] It's quare fool's blather you have about the sea done
+this and the sea done that. You'd ought to be shamed to be saying the
+like, and you an old sailor yourself. I'm after hearing a lot of it
+from you and a lot more that Anna's told me you do be saying to her,
+and I'm thinking it's a poor weak thing you are, and not a man at all!
+
+CHRIS--[Darkly.] You see if Ay'm man--maybe quicker'n you tank.
+
+BURKE--[Contemptuously.] Yerra, don't be boasting. I'm thinking 'tis
+out of your wits you've got with fright of the sea. You'd be wishing
+Anna married to a farmer, she told me. That'd be a swate match, surely!
+Would you have a fine girl the like of Anna lying down at nights with a
+muddy scut stinking of pigs and dung? Or would you have her tied for
+life to the like of them skinny, shrivelled swabs does be working in
+cities?
+
+CHRIS--Dat's lie, you fool!
+
+BURKE--'Tis not. 'Tis your own mad notions I'm after telling. But you
+know the truth in your heart, if great fear of the sea has made you a
+liar and coward itself. [Pounding the table.] The sea's the only life
+for a man with guts in him isn't afraid of his own shadow! 'Tis only on
+the sea he's free, and him roving the face of the world, seeing all
+things, and not giving a damn for saving up money, or stealing from his
+friends, or any of the black tricks that a landlubber'd waste his life
+on. 'Twas yourself knew it once, and you a bo'sun for years.
+
+CHRIS--[Sputtering with rage.] You vas crazy fool, Ay tal you!
+
+BURKE--You've swallowed the anchor. The sea give you a clout once
+knocked you down, and you're not man enough to get up for another, but
+lie there for the rest of your life howling bloody murder. [Proudly.]
+Isn't it myself the sea has nearly drowned, and me battered and bate
+till I was that close to hell I could hear the flames roaring, and
+never a groan out of me till the sea gave up and it seeing the great
+strength and guts of a man was in me?
+
+CHRIS--[Scornfully.] Yes, you vas hell of fallar, hear you tal it!
+
+BURKE--[Angrily.] You'll be calling me a liar once too often, me old
+bucko! Wasn't the whole story of it and my picture itself in the
+newspapers of Boston a week back? [Looking CHRIS up and down
+belittlingly.] Sure I'd like to see you in the best of your youth do
+the like of what I done in the storm and after. 'Tis a mad lunatic,
+screeching with fear, you'd be this minute!
+
+CHRIS--Ho-ho! You vas young fool! In ole years when Ay was on
+windyammer, Ay vas through hundred storms vorse'n dat! Ships vas ships
+den--and men dat sail on dem vas real men. And now what you gat on
+steamers? You gat fallars on deck don't know ship from mudscow. [With a
+meaning glance at BURKE.] And below deck you gat fallars yust know how
+for shovel coal--might yust as veil vork on coal vagon ashore!
+
+BURKE--[Stung--angrily.] Is it casting insults at the men in the
+stokehole ye are, ye old ape? God stiffen you! Wan of them is worth any
+ten stock-fish-swilling Square-heads ever shipped on a windbag!
+
+CHRIS--[His face working with rage, his hand going back to the
+sheath-knife on his hip.] Irish svine, you!
+
+BURKE--[Tauntingly.] Don't ye like the Irish, ye old babboon? 'Tis that
+you're needing in your family, I'm telling you--an Irishman and a man
+of the stokehole--to put guts in it so that you'll not be having
+grandchildren would be fearful cowards and jackasses the like of
+yourself!
+
+CHRIS--[Half rising from his chair--in a voice choked with rage.] You
+look out!
+
+BURKE--[Watching him intently--a mocking smile on his lips.] And it's
+that you'll be having, no matter what you'll do to prevent; for Anna
+and me'll be married this day, and no old fool the like of you will
+stop us when I've made up my mind.
+
+CHRIS--[With a hoarse cry.] You don't! [He throws himself at BURKE,
+knife in hand, knocking his chair over backwards. BURKE springs to his
+feet quickly in time to meet the attack. He laughs with the pure love
+of battle. The old Swede is like a child in his hands. BURKE does not
+strike or mistreat him in any way, but simply twists his right hand
+behind his back and forces the knife from his fingers. He throws the
+knife into a far corner of the room--tauntingly.]
+
+BURKE--Old men is getting childish shouldn't play with knives. [Holding
+the struggling CHRIS at arm's length--with a sudden rush of anger,
+drawing back his fist.] I've half a mind to hit you a great clout will
+put sense in your square head. Kape off me now, I'm warning you! [He
+gives CHRIS a push with the flat of his hand which sends the old Swede
+staggering back against the cabin wall, where he remains standing,
+panting heavily, his eyes fixed on BURKE with hatred, as if he were
+only collecting his strength to rush at him again.]
+
+BURKE--[Warningly.] Now don't be coming at me again, I'm saying, or
+I'll flatten you on the floor with a blow, if 'tis Anna's father you
+are itself! I've no patience left for you. [Then with an amused laugh.]
+Well, 'tis a bold old man you are just the same, and I'd never think it
+was in you to come tackling me alone. [A shadow crosses the cabin
+windows. Both men start. ANNA appears in the doorway.]
+
+ANNA--[With pleased surprise as she sees BURKE.] Hello, Mat. Are you
+here already? I was down--[She stops, looking from one to the other,
+sensing immediately that something has happened.] What's up? [Then
+noticing the overturned chair--in alarm.] How'd that chair get knocked
+over? [Turning on BURKE reproachfully.] You ain't been fighting with
+him, Mat--after you promised?
+
+BURKE--[His old self again.] I've not laid a hand on him, Anna. [He
+goes and picks up the chair, then turning on the still questioning
+ANNA--with a reassuring smile.] Let you not be worried at all. 'Twas
+only a bit of an argument we was having to pass the time till you'd
+come.
+
+ANNA--It must have been some argument when you got to throwing chairs.
+[She turns on CHRIS.] Why don't you say something? What was it about?
+
+CHRIS--[Relaxing at last--avoiding her eyes--sheepishly.] Ve vas
+talking about ships and fallars on sea.
+
+ANNA--[With a relieved smile.] Oh--the old stuff, eh?
+
+BURKE--[Suddenly seeming to come to a bold decision--with a defiant
+grin at CHRIS.] He's not after telling you the whole of it. We was
+arguing about you mostly.
+
+ANNA--[With a frown.] About me?
+
+BURKE--And we'll be finishing it out right here and now in your
+presence if you're willing. [He sits down at the left of table.]
+
+ANNA--[Uncertainly--looking from him to her father.] Sure. Tell me what
+it's all about.
+
+CHRIS--[Advancing toward the table--protesting to BURKE.] No! You don't
+do dat, you! You tal him you don't vant for hear him talk, Anna.
+
+ANNA--But I do. I want this cleared up.
+
+CHRIS--[Miserably afraid now.] Vell, not now, anyvay. You vas going
+ashore, yes? You ain't got time--
+
+ANNA--[Firmly.] Yes, right here and now. [She turns to BURKE.] You tell
+me, Mat, since he don't want to.
+
+BURKE--[Draws a deep breath--then plunges in boldly.] The whole of it's
+in a few words only. So's he'd make no mistake, and him hating the
+sight of me, I told him in his teeth I loved you. [Passionately.] And
+that's God truth, Anna, and well you know it!
+
+CHRIS--[Scornfully--forcing a laugh.] Ho-ho! He tal same tang to gel
+every port he go!
+
+ANNA--[Shrinking from her father with repulsion--resentfully.] Shut up,
+can't you? [Then to BURKE--feelingly.] I know it's true, Mat. I don't
+mind what he says.
+
+BURKE--[Humbly grateful.] God bless you!
+
+ANNA--And then what?
+
+BURKE--And then--[Hesitatingly.] And then I said--[He looks at her
+pleadingly.] I said I was sure--I told him I thought you have a bit of
+love for me, too. [Passionately.] Say you do, Anna! Let you not destroy
+me entirely, for the love of God! [He grasps both her hands in his two.]
+
+ANNA--[Deeply moved and troubled--forcing a trembling laugh.] So you
+told him that, Mat? No wonder he was mad. [Forcing out the words.]
+Well, maybe it's true, Mat. Maybe I do. I been thinking and thinking--I
+didn't want to, Mat, I'll own up to that--I tried to cut it
+out--but--[She laughs helplessly.] I guess I can't help it anyhow. So I
+guess I do, Mat. [Then with a sudden joyous defiance.] Sure I do!
+What's the use of kidding myself different? Sure I love you, Mat!
+
+CHRIS--[With a cry of pain.] Anna! [He sits crushed.]
+
+BURKE--[With a great depth of sincerity in his humble gratitude.] God
+be praised!
+
+ANNA--[Assertively.] And I ain't never loved a man in my life before,
+you can always believe that--no matter what happens.
+
+BURKE--[Goes over to her and puts his arms around her.] Sure I do be
+believing ivery word you iver said or iver will say. And 'tis you and
+me will be having a grand, beautiful life together to the end of our
+days! [He tries to kiss her. At first she turns away her head--then,
+overcome by a fierce impulse of passionate love, she takes his head in
+both her hands and holds his face close to hers, staring into his eyes.
+Then she kisses him full on the lips.]
+
+ANNA--[Pushing him away from her--forcing a broken laugh.] Good-bye.
+[She walks to the doorway in rear--stands with her back toward them,
+looking out. Her shoulders quiver once or twice as if she were fighting
+back her sobs.]
+
+BURKE--[Too in the seventh heaven of bliss to get any correct
+interpretation of her word--with a laugh.] Good-bye, is it? The divil
+you say! I'll be coming back at you in a second for more of the same!
+[To CHRIS, who has quickened to instant attention at his daughter's
+good-bye, and has looked back at her with a stirring of foolish hope in
+his eyes.] Now, me old bucko, what'll you be saying? You heard the
+words from her own lips. Confess I've bate you. Own up like a man when
+you're bate fair and square. And here's my hand to you--[Holds out his
+hand.] And let you take it and we'll shake and forget what's over and
+done, and be friends from this out.
+
+CHRIS--[With implacable hatred.] Ay don't shake hands vith you
+fallar--not vhile Ay live!
+
+BURKE--[Offended.] The back of my hand to you then, if that suits you
+better. [Growling.] 'Tis a rotten bad loser you are, divil mend you!
+
+CHRIS--Ay don't lose--[Trying to be scornful and self-convincing.] Anna
+say she like you little bit but you don't hear her say she marry you,
+Ay bet. [At the sound of her name ANNA has turned round to them. Her
+face is composed and calm again, but it is the dead calm of despair.]
+
+BURKE--[Scornfully.] No, and I wasn't hearing her say the sun is
+shining either.
+
+CHRIS--[Doggedly.] Dat's all right. She don't say it, yust same.
+
+ANNA--[Quietly--coming forward to them.] No, I didn't say it, Mat.
+
+CHRIS--[Eagerly.] Dere! You hear!
+
+BURKE--[Misunderstanding her--with a grin.] You're waiting till you do
+be asked, you mane? Well, I'm asking you now. And we'll be married this
+day, with the help of God!
+
+ANNA--[Gently.] You heard what I said, Mat--after I kissed you?
+
+BURKE--[Alarmed by something in her manner.] No--I disremember.
+
+ANNA--I said good-bye. [Her voice trembling.] That kiss was for
+good-bye, Mat.
+
+BURKE--[Terrified.] What d'you mane?
+
+ANNA--I can't marry you, Mat--and we've said good-bye. That's all.
+
+CHRIS--[Unable to hold back his exultation.] Ay know it! Ay know dat
+vas so!
+
+BURKE--[Jumping to his feet--unable to believe his ears.] Anna! Is it
+making game of me you'd be? 'Tis a quare time to joke with me, and
+don't be doing it, for the love of God.
+
+ANNA--[Looking him in the eyes--steadily.] D'you think I'd kid you now?
+No, I'm not joking, Mat. I mean what I said.
+
+BURKE--Ye don't! Ye can't! 'Tis mad you are. I'm telling you!
+
+ANNA--[Fixedly.] No I'm not.
+
+BURKE--[Desperately.] But what's come over you so sudden? You was
+saying you loved me--
+
+ANNA--I'll say that as often as you want me to. It's true.
+
+BURKE--[Bewilderedly.] Then why--what, in the divil's name--Oh, God
+help me, I can't make head or tail to it at all!
+
+ANNA--Because it's the best way out I can figure, Mat. [Her voice
+catching.] I been thinking it over and thinking it over day and night
+all week. Don't think it ain't hard on me, too, Mat.
+
+BURKE--For the love of God, tell me then, what is it that's preventing
+you wedding me when the two of us has love? [Suddenly getting an idea
+and pointing at CHRIS--exasperatedly.] Is it giving heed to the like of
+that old fool ye are, and him hating me and filling your ears full of
+bloody lies against me?
+
+CHRIS--[Getting to his feet--raging triumphantly before ANNA has a
+chance to get in a word.] Yes, Anna believe me, not you! She know her
+old fa'der don't lie like you.
+
+ANNA--[Turning on her father angrily.] You sit down, d'you hear? Where
+do you come in butting in and making things worse? You're like a devil,
+you are! [Harshly.] Good Lord, and I was beginning to like you,
+beginning to forget all I've got held up against you!
+
+CHRIS--[Crushed--feebly.] You ain't got nutting for hold against me,
+Anna.
+
+ANNA--Ain't I yust! Well, lemme tell you--[She glances at BURKE and
+stops abruptly.] Say, Mat, I'm s'prised at you. You didn't think
+anything he'd said--
+
+BURKE--[Glumly.] Sure, what else would it be?
+
+ANNA--Think I've ever paid any attention to all his crazy bull? Gee,
+you must take me for a five-year-old kid.
+
+BURKE--[Puzzled and beginning to be irritated at her too.] I don't know
+how to take you, with your saying this one minute and that the next.
+
+ANNA--Well, he has nothing to do with it.
+
+BURKE--Then what is it has? Tell me, and don't keep me waiting and
+sweating blood.
+
+ANNA--[Resolutely] I can't tell you--and I won't. I got a good
+reason--and that's all you need to know. I can't marry you, that's all
+there is to it. [Distractedly.] So, for Gawd's sake, let's talk of
+something else.
+
+BURKE--I'll not! [Then fearfully.] Is it married to someone else you
+are--in the West maybe?
+
+ANNA--[Vehemently.] I should say not.
+
+BURKE--[Regaining his courage.] To the divil with all other reasons
+then. They don't matter with me at all. [He gets to his feet
+confidently, assuming a masterful tone.] I'm thinking you're the like
+of them women can't make up their mind till they're drove to it. Well,
+then, I'll make up your mind for you bloody quick. [He takes her by the
+arms, grinning to soften his serious bullying.] We've had enough of
+talk! Let you be going into your room now and be dressing in your best
+and we'll be going ashore.
+
+CHRIS--[Aroused--angrily.] No, py God, she don't do that! [Takes hold
+of her arm.]
+
+ANNA--[Who has listened to BURKE in astonishment. She draws away from
+him, instinctively repelled by his tone, but not exactly sure if he is
+serious or not--a trace of resentment in her voice.] Say, where do you
+get that stuff?
+
+BURKE--[Imperiously.] Never mind, now! Let you go get dressed, I'm
+saying, [Then turning to CHRIS.] We'll be seeing who'll win in the
+end--me or you.
+
+CHRIS--[To ANNA--also in an authoritative tone.] You stay right here,
+Anna, you hear! [ANNA stands looking from one to the other of them as
+if she thought they had both gone crazy. Then the expression of her
+face freezes into the hardened sneer of her experience.]
+
+BURKE--[Violently.] She'll not! She'll do what I say! You've had your
+hold on her long enough. It's my turn now.
+
+ANNA--[With a hard laugh.] Your turn? Say, what am I, anyway?
+
+BURKE--'Tis not what you are, 'tis what you're going to be this
+day--and that's wedded to me before night comes. Hurry up now with your
+dressing.
+
+CHRIS--[Commandingly.] You don't do one tang he say, Anna! [ANNA laughs
+mockingly.]
+
+BURKE--She will, so!
+
+CHRIS--Ay tal you she don't! Ay'm her fa'der.
+
+BURKE--She will in spite of you. She's taking my orders from this out,
+not yours.
+
+ANNA--[Laughing again.] Orders is good!
+
+BURKE--[Turning to her impatiently.] Hurry up now, and shake a leg.
+We've no time to be wasting. [Irritated as she doesn't move.] Do you
+hear what I'm telling you?
+
+CHRIS--You stay dere, Anna!
+
+ANNA--[At the end of her patience--blazing out at them passionately.]
+You can go to hell, both of you! [There is something in her tone that
+makes them forget their quarrel and turn to her in a stunned amazement.
+ANNA laughs wildly.] You're just like all the rest of them--you two!
+Gawd, you'd think I was a piece of furniture! I'll show you! Sit down
+now! [As they hesitate--furiously.] Sit down and let me talk for a
+minute. You're all wrong, see? Listen to me! I'm going to tell you
+something--and then I'm going to beat it. [To BURKE--with a harsh
+laugh.] I'm going to tell you a funny story, so pay attention.
+[Pointing to CHRIS.] I've been meaning to turn it loose on him every
+time he'd get my goat with his bull about keeping me safe inland. I
+wasn't going to tell you, but you've forced me into it. What's the dif?
+It's all wrong anyway, and you might as well get cured that way as any
+other. [With hard mocking.] Only don't forget what you said a minute
+ago about it not mattering to you what other reason I got so long as I
+wasn't married to no one else.
+
+BURKE--[Manfully.] That's my word, and I'll stick to it!
+
+ANNA--[Laughing bitterly.] What a chance! You make me laugh, honest!
+Want to bet you will? Wait 'n see! [She stands at the table rear,
+looking from one to the other of the two men with her hard, mocking
+smile. Then she begins, fighting to control her emotion and speak
+calmly.] First thing is, I want to tell you two guys something. You was
+going on's if one of you had got to own me. But nobody owns me,
+see?--'cepting myself. I'll do what I please and no man, I don't give a
+hoot who he is, can tell me what to do! I ain't asking either of you
+for a living. I can make it myself--one way or other. I'm my own boss.
+So put that in your pipe and smoke it! You and your orders!
+
+BURKE--[Protestingly.] I wasn't meaning it that way at all and well you
+know it. You've no call to be raising this rumpus with me. [Pointing to
+CHRIS.] 'Tis him you've a right--
+
+ANNA--I'm coming to him. But you--you did mean it that way, too. You
+sounded--yust like all the rest. [Hysterically.] But, damn it, shut up!
+Let me talk for a change!
+
+BURKE--'Tis quare, rough talk, that--for a dacent girl the like of you!
+
+ANNA--[With a hard laugh.] Decent? Who told you I was? [CHRIS is
+sitting with bowed shoulders, his head in his hands. She leans over in
+exasperation and shakes him violently by the shoulder.] Don't go to
+sleep, Old Man! Listen here, I'm talking to you now!
+
+CHRIS--[Straightening up and looking about as if he were seeking a way
+to escape--with frightened foreboding in his voice.] Ay don't vant for
+hear it. You vas going out of head, Ay tank, Anna.
+
+ANNA--[Violently.] Well, living with you is enough to drive anyone off
+their nut. Your bunk about the farm being so fine! Didn't I write you
+year after year how rotten it was and what a dirty slave them cousins
+made of me? What'd you care? Nothing! Not even enough to come out and
+see me! That crazy bull about wanting to keep me away from the sea
+don't go down with me! You yust didn't want to be bothered with me!
+You're like all the rest of 'em!
+
+CHRIS--[Feebly.] Anna! It ain't so--
+
+ANNA--[Not heeding his interruption--revengefully.] But one thing I
+never wrote you. It was one of them cousins that you think is such nice
+people--the youngest son--Paul--that started me wrong. [Loudly.] It
+wasn't none of my fault. I hated him worse 'n hell and he knew it. But
+he was big and strong--[Pointing to Burke]--like you!
+
+BURKE--[Half springing to his feet--his fists clenched,] God blarst it!
+[He sinks slowly back in his chair again, the knuckles showing white on
+his clenched hands, his face tense with the effort to suppress his
+grief and rage.]
+
+CHRIS--[In a cry of horrified pain.] Anna!
+
+ANNA--[To him--seeming not to have heard their interruptions.] That was
+why I run away from the farm. That was what made me get a yob as nurse
+girl in St. Paul. [With a hard, mocking laugh.] And you think that was
+a nice yob for a girl, too, don't you? [Sarcastically.] With all them
+nice inland fellers yust looking for a chance to marry me, I s'pose.
+Marry me? What a chance! They wasn't looking for marrying. [As BURKE
+lets a groan of fury escape him--desperately.] I'm owning up to
+everything fair and square. I was caged in, I tell you--yust like in
+yail--taking care of other people's kids--listening to 'em bawling and
+crying day and night--when I wanted to be out--and I was
+lonesome--lonesome as hell! [With a sudden weariness in her voice.] So
+I give up finally. What was the use? [She stops and looks at the two
+men. Both are motionless and silent. CHRIS seems in a stupor of
+despair, his house of cards fallen about him. BURKE's face is livid
+with the rage that is eating him up, but he is too stunned and
+bewildered yet to find a vent for it. The condemnation she feels in
+their silence goads ANNA into a harsh, strident defiance.] You don't
+say nothing--either of you--but I know what you're thinking. You're
+like all the rest! [To CHRIS--furiously.] And who's to blame for it, me
+or you? If you'd even acted like a man--if you'd even been a regular
+father and had me with you--maybe things would be different!
+
+CHRIS--[In agony.] Don't talk dat vay, Anna! Ay go crazy! Ay von't
+listen! [Puts his hands over his ears.]
+
+ANNA--[Infuriated by his action--stridently.] You will too listen! [She
+leans over and pulls his hands from his ears--with hysterical rage.]
+You--keeping me safe inland--I wasn't no nurse girl the last two
+years--I lied when I wrote you--I was in a house, that's what!--yes,
+that kind of a house--the kind sailors like you and Mat goes to in
+port--and your nice inland men, too--and all men, God damn 'em! I hate
+'em! Hate 'em! [She breaks into hysterical sobbing, throwing herself
+into the chair and hiding her face in her hands on the table. The two
+men have sprung to their feet.]
+
+CHRIS--[Whimpering like a child.] Anna! Anna! It's lie! It's lie! [He
+stands wringing his hands together and begins to weep.]
+
+BURKE--[His whole great body tense like a spring--dully and gropingly.]
+So that's what's in it!
+
+ANNA--[Raising her head at the sound of his voice--with extreme mocking
+bitterness.] I s'pose you remember your promise, Mat? No other reason
+was to count with you so long as I wasn't married already. So I s'pose
+you want me to get dressed and go ashore, don't you? [She laughs.] Yes,
+you do!
+
+BURKE--[On the verge of his outbreak--stammeringly.] God stiffen you!
+
+ANNA--[Trying to keep up her hard, bitter tone, but gradually letting a
+note of pitiful pleading creep in.] I s'pose if I tried to tell you I
+wasn't--that--no more you'd believe me, wouldn't you? Yes, you would!
+And if I told you that yust getting out in this barge, and being on the
+sea had changed me and made me feel different about things,'s if all
+I'd been through wasn't me and didn't count and was yust like it never
+happened--you'd laugh, wouldn't you? And you'd die laughing sure if I
+said that meeting you that funny way that night in the fog, and
+afterwards seeing that you was straight goods stuck on me, had got me
+to thinking for the first time, and I sized you up as a different kind
+of man--a sea man as different from the ones on land as water is from
+mud--and that was why I got stuck on you, too. I wanted to marry you
+and fool you, but I couldn't. Don't you see how I'd changed? I couldn't
+marry you with you believing a lie--and I was shamed to tell you the
+truth--till the both of you forced my hand, and I seen you was the same
+as all the rest. And now, give me a bawling out and beat it, like I can
+tell you're going to. [She stops, looking at BURKE. He is silent, his
+face averted, his features beginning to work with fury. She pleads
+passionately.] Will you believe it if I tell you that loving you has
+made me--clean? It's the straight goods, honest! [Then as he doesn't
+reply--bitterly.] Like hell you will! You're like all the rest!
+
+BURKE--[Blazing out--turning on her in a perfect frenzy of rage--his
+voice trembling with passion.] The rest, is it? God's curse on you!
+Clane, is it? You slut, you, I'll be killing you now! [He picks up the
+chair on which he has been sitting and, swinging it high over his
+shoulder, springs toward her. CHRIS rushes forward with a cry of alarm,
+trying to ward off the blow from his daughter. ANNA looks up into
+BURKE'S eyes with the fearlessness of despair. BURKE checks himself,
+the chair held in the air.]
+
+CHRIS--[Wildly.] Stop, you crazy fool! You vant for murder her!
+
+ANNA--[Pushing her father away brusquely, her eyes still holding
+BURKE'S.] Keep out of this, you! [To BURKE--dully.] Well, ain't you got
+the nerve to do it? Go ahead! I'll be thankful to you, honest. I'm sick
+of the whole game.
+
+BURKE--[Throwing the chair away into a corner of the room--helplessly.]
+I can't do it, God help me, and your two eyes looking at me.
+[Furiously.] Though I do be thinking I'd have a good right to smash
+your skull like a rotten egg. Was there iver a woman in the world had
+the rottenness in her that you have, and was there iver a man the like
+of me was made the fool of the world, and me thinking thoughts about
+you, and having great love for you, and dreaming dreams of the fine
+life we'd have when we'd be wedded! [His voice high pitched in a
+lamentation that is like a keen]. Yerra, God help me! I'm destroyed
+entirely and my heart is broken in bits! I'm asking God Himself, was it
+for this He'd have me roaming the earth since I was a lad only, to come
+to black shame in the end, where I'd be giving a power of love to a
+woman is the same as others you'd meet in any hooker-shanty in port,
+with red gowns on them and paint on their grinning mugs, would be
+sleeping with any man for a dollar or two!
+
+ANNA--[In a scream.] Don't, Mat! For Gawd's sake! [Then raging and
+pounding on the table with her hands.] Get out of here! Leave me alone!
+Get out of here!
+
+BURKE--[His anger rushing back on him.] I'll be going, surely! And I'll
+be drinking sloos of whiskey will wash that black kiss of yours off my
+lips; and I'll be getting dead rotten drunk so I'll not remember if
+'twas iver born you was at all; and I'll be shipping away on some boat
+will take me to the other end of the world where I'll never see your
+face again! [He turns toward the door]
+
+CHRIS--[Who has been standing in a stupor--suddenly grasping BURKE by
+the arm--stupidly] No, you don't go. Ay tank maybe it's better Anna
+marry you now.
+
+BURKE--[Shaking CHRIS off--furiously] Lave go of me, ye old ape! Marry
+her, is it? I'd see her roasting in hell first! I'm shipping away out
+of this, I'm telling you! [Pointing to Anna--passionately] And my curse
+on you and the curse of Almighty God and all the Saints! You've
+destroyed me this day and may you lie awake in the long nights,
+tormented with thoughts of Mat Burke and the great wrong you've done
+him!
+
+ANNA--[In anguish] Mat! [But he turns without another word and strides
+out of the doorway. ANNA looks after him wildly, starts to run after
+him, then hides her face in her outstretched arms, sobbing. CHRIS
+stands in a stupor, staring at the floor.]
+
+CHRIS--[After a pause, dully.] Ay tank Ay go ashore, too.
+
+ANNA--[Looking up, wildly.] Not after him! Let him go! Don't you dare--
+
+CHRIS--[Somberly.] Ay go for gat drink.
+
+ANNA--[With a harsh laugh.] So I'm driving you to drink, too, eh? I
+s'pose you want to get drunk so's you can forget--like him?
+
+CHRIS--[Bursting out angrily.] Yes, Ay vant! You tank Ay like hear dem
+tangs. [Breaking down--weeping.] Ay tank you vasn't dat kind of gel,
+Anna.
+
+ANNA--[Mockingly.] And I s'pose you want me to beat it, don't you? You
+don't want me here disgracing you, I s'pose?
+
+CHRIS--No, you stay here! [Goes over and pats her on the shoulder, the
+tears running down his face.] Ain't your fault, Anna, Ay know dat. [She
+looks up at him, softened. He bursts into rage.] It's dat ole davil,
+sea, do this to me! [He shakes his fist at the door.] It's her dirty
+tricks! It vas all right on barge with yust you and me. Den she bring
+dat Irish fallar in fog, she make you like him, she make you fight with
+me all time! If dat Irish fallar don't never come, you don't never tal
+me dem tangs, Ay don't never know, and every tang's all right. [He
+shakes his fist again,] Dirty ole davil!
+
+ANNA--[With spent weariness.] Oh, what's the use? Go on ashore and get
+drunk.
+
+CHRIS--[Goes into room on left and gets his cap. He goes to the door,
+silent and stupid--then turns.] You vait here, Anna?
+
+ANNA--[Dully] Maybe--and maybe not. Maybe I'll get drunk, too. Maybe
+I'll--But what the hell do you care what I do? Go on and beat it.
+[CHRIS turns stupidly and goes out. ANNA sits at the table, staring
+straight in front of her.]
+
+[The Curtain Falls]
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE--Same as Act Three, about nine o'clock of a foggy night two days
+later. The whistles of steamers in the harbor can be heard. The cabin
+is lighted by a small lamp on the table. A suitcase stands in the
+middle of the floor. ANNA is sitting in the rocking-chair. She wears a
+hat, is all dressed up as in Act One. Her face is pale, looks terribly
+tired and worn, as if the two days just past had been ones of suffering
+and sleepless nights. She stares before her despondently, her chin in
+her hands. There is a timid knock on the door in rear. ANNA jumps to
+her feet with a startled exclamation and looks toward the door with an
+expression of mingled hope and fear.
+
+ANNA--[Faintly.] Come in. [Then summoning her courage--more
+resolutely.] Come in. [The door is opened and CHRIS appears in the
+doorway. He is in a very bleary, bedraggled condition, suffering from
+the after effects of his drunk. A tin pail full of foaming beer is in
+his hand. He comes forward, his eyes avoiding ANNA'S. He mutters
+stupidly.] It's foggy.
+
+ANNA--[Looking him over with contempt.] So you come back at last, did
+you? You're a fine looking sight! [Then jeeringly.] I thought you'd
+beaten it for good on account of the disgrace I'd brought on you.
+
+CHRIS--[Wincing-faintly.] Don't say dat, Anna, please! [He sits in a
+chair by the table, setting down the can of beer, holding his head in
+his hands]
+
+ANNA--[Looks at him with a certain sympathy.] What's the trouble?
+Feeling sick?
+
+CHRIS--[Dully.] Inside my head feel sick.
+
+ANNA--Well, what d'you expect after being soused for two days?
+[Resentfully.] It serves you right. A fine thing--you leaving me alone
+on this barge all that time!
+
+CHRIS--[Humbly.] Ay'm sorry, Anna.
+
+ANNA--[Scornfully] Sorry!
+
+CHRIS--But Ay'm not sick inside head vay you mean. Ay'm sick from tank
+too much about you, about me.
+
+ANNA--And how about me? D'you suppose I ain't been thinking, too?
+
+CHRIS--Ay'm sorry, Anna. [He sees her bag and gives a start] You pack
+your bag, Anna? You vas going--?
+
+ANNA--[Forcibly.] Yes, I was going right back to what you think.
+
+CHRIS--Anna!
+
+ANNA--I went ashore to get a train for New York. I'd been waiting and
+waiting 'till I was sick of it. Then I changed my mind and decided not
+to go to-day. But I'm going first thing to-morrow, so it'll all be the
+same in the end.
+
+CHRIS--[Raising his head--pleadingly] No, you never do dat, Anna!
+
+ANNA--[With a sneer.] Why not, I'd like to know?
+
+CHRIS--You don't never gat to do--dat vay--no more, Ay tal you. Ay fix
+dat up all right.
+
+ANNA--[Suspiciously.] Fix what up?
+
+CHRIS--[Not seeming to have heard her question--sadly.] You vas
+vaiting, you say? You vasn't vaiting for me, Ay bet.
+
+ANNA--[Callously.] You'd win.
+
+CHRIS--For dat Irish fallar?
+
+ANNA--[Defiantly.] Yes--if you want to know! [Then with a forlorn
+laugh.] If he did come back it'd only because he wanted to beat me up
+or kill me, I suppose. But even if he did, I'd rather have him come
+than not show up at all. I wouldn't care what he did.
+
+CHRIS--Ay guess it's true you vas in love with him all right.
+
+ANNA--You guess!
+
+CHRIS--[Turning to her earnestly.] And Ay'm sorry for you like hell he
+don't come, Anna!
+
+ANNA--[Softened.] Seems to me you've changed your tune a lot.
+
+CHRIS--Ay've been tanking, and Ay guess it vas all my fault--all bad
+tangs dat happen to you. [Pleadingly.] You try for not hate me, Anna.
+Ay'm crazy ole fool, dat's all.
+
+ANNA--Who said I hated you?
+
+CHRIS--Ay'm sorry for everytang Ay do wrong for you, Anna. Ay vant for
+you be happy all rest of your life for make up! It make you happy marry
+dat Irish fallar, Ay vant it, too.
+
+ANNA--[Dully.]--Well, there ain't no chance. But I'm glad you think
+different about it, anyway.
+
+CHRIS--[Supplicatingly.] And you tank--maybe--you forgive me sometime?
+
+ANNA--[With a wan smile.] I'll forgive you right now.
+
+CHRIS--[Seizing her hand and kissing it--brokenly.] Anna lilla! Anna
+lilla!
+
+ANNA--[Touched but a bit embarrassed.] Don't bawl about it. There ain't
+nothing to forgive, anyway. It ain't your fault, and it ain't mine, and
+it ain't his neither. We're all poor nuts, and things happen, and we
+yust get mixed in wrong, that's all.
+
+CHRIS--[Eagerly.] You say right tang, Anna, py golly! It ain't nobody's
+fault! [Shaking his fist.] It's dat ole davil, sea!
+
+ANNA--[With an exasperated laugh.] Gee, won't you ever can that stuff?
+[CHRIS relapses into injured silence. After a pause ANNA continues
+curiously.] You said a minute ago you'd fixed something up--about me.
+What was it?
+
+CHRIS--[After a hesitating pause.] Ay'm shipping avay on sea again,
+Anna.
+
+ANNA--[Astounded.] You're--what?
+
+CHRIS--Ay sign on steamer sail to-morrow. Ay gat my ole yob--bo'sun.
+[ANNA stares at him. As he goes on, a bitter smile comes over her
+face.] Ay tank dat's best tang for you. Ay only bring you bad luck, Ay
+tank. Ay make your mo'der's life sorry. Ay don't vant make yours dat
+way, but Ay do yust same. Dat ole davil, sea, she make me Yonah man
+ain't no good for nobody. And Ay tank now it ain't no use fight with
+sea. No man dat live going to beat her, py yingo!
+
+ANNA--[With a laugh of helpless bitterness.] So that's how you've fixed
+me, is it?
+
+CHRIS--Yes, Ay tank if dat ole davil gat me back she leave you alone
+den.
+
+ANNA--[Bitterly.] But, for Gawd's sake, don't you see, you're doing the
+same thing you've always done? Don't you see--? [But she sees the look
+of obsessed stubbornness on her father's face and gives it up
+helplessly.] But what's the use of talking. You ain't right, that's
+what. I'll never blame you for nothing no more. But how you could
+figure out that was fixing me--!
+
+CHRIS--Dat ain't all. Ay gat dem fallars in steam-ship office to pay
+you all money coming to me every month vhile Ay'm avay.
+
+ANNA--[With a hard laugh.] Thanks. But I guess I won't be hard up for
+no small change.
+
+CHRIS--[Hurt--humbly.] It ain't much, Ay know, but it's plenty for keep
+you so you never gat go.
+
+ANNA--[Shortly.] Shut up, will you? We'll talk about it later, see?
+
+CHRIS--[After a pause--ingratiatingly.] You like Ay go ashore look for
+dat Irish fallar, Anna?
+
+ANNA--[Angrily.] Not much! Think I want to drag him back?
+
+CHRIS--[After a pause--uncomfortably.] Py golly, dat booze don't go
+veil. Give me fever, Ay tank, Ay feel hot like hell. [He takes off his
+coat and lets it drop on the floor. There is a loud thud.]
+
+ANNA--[With a start.] What you got in your pocket, for Pete's sake--a
+ton of lead? [She reaches down, takes the coat and pulls out a
+revolver--looks from it to him in amazement.] A gun? What were you
+doing with this?
+
+CHRIS--[Sheepishly.] Ay forgat. Ain't nutting. Ain't loaded, anyvay.
+
+ANNA--[Breaking it open to make sure--then closing it again--looking at
+him suspiciously.] That ain't telling me why you got it?
+
+CHRIS--[Sheepishly.] Ay'm ole fool. Ay gat it vhen Ay go ashore first.
+Ay tank den it's all fault of dat Irish fallar.
+
+ANNA--[With a shudder.] Say, you're crazier than I thought. I never
+dreamt you'd go that far.
+
+CHRIS--[Quickly.] Ay don't. Ay gat better sense right avay. Ay don't
+never buy bullets even. It ain't his fault, Ay know.
+
+ANNA--[Still suspicious of him.] Well, I'll take care of this for a
+while, loaded or not. [She puts it in the drawer of table and closes
+the drawer.]
+
+CHRIS--[Placatingly.] Throw it overboard if you vant. Ay don't care,
+[Then after a pause.] Py golly, Ay tank Ay go lie down. Ay feel sick.
+[ANNA takes a magazine from the table. CHRIS hesitates by her chair.]
+Ve talk again before Ay go, yes?
+
+ANNA--[Dully.] Where's this ship going to?
+
+CHRIS--Cape Town. Dat's in South Africa. She's British steamer called
+Londonderry. [He stands hesitatingly--finally blurts out.] Anna--you
+forgive me sure?
+
+ANNA--[Wearily.] Sure I do. You ain't to blame. You're yust--what you
+are--like me.
+
+CHRIS--[Pleadingly.] Den--you lat me kiss you again once?
+
+ANNA--[Raising her face--forcing a wan smile.] Sure. No hard feelings.
+
+CHRIS--[Kisses her--brokenly.] Anna lilla! Ay--[He fights for words to
+express himself, but finds none--miserably--with a sob.] Ay can't say
+it. Good-night, Anna.
+
+ANNA--Good-night. [He picks up the can of beer and goes slowly into the
+room on left, his shoulders bowed, his head sunk forward dejectedly. He
+closes the door after him. ANNA turns over the pages of the magazine,
+trying desperately to banish her thoughts by looking at the pictures.
+This fails to distract her, and flinging the magazine back on the
+table, she springs to her feet and walks about the cabin distractedly,
+clenching and unclenching her hands. She speaks aloud to herself in a
+tense, trembling voice.] Gawd, I can't stand this much longer! What am
+I waiting for anyway?--like a damn fool! [She laughs helplessly, then
+checks herself abruptly, as she hears the sound of heavy footsteps on
+the deck outside. She appears to recognize these and her face lights up
+with joy. She gasps:] Mat! [A strange terror seems suddenly to seize
+her. She rushes to the table, takes the revolver out of drawer and
+crouches down in the corner, left, behind the cupboard. A moment later
+the door is flung open and MAT BURKE appears in the doorway. He is in
+bad shape--his clothes torn and dirty, covered with sawdust as if he
+had been grovelling or sleeping on barroom floors. There is a red
+bruise on his forehead over one of his eyes, another over one
+cheekbone, his knuckles are skinned and raw--plain evidence of the
+fighting he has been through on his "bat." His eyes are bloodshot and
+heavy-lidded, his face has a bloated look. But beyond these
+appearances--the results of heavy drinking--there is an expression in
+his eyes of wild mental turmoil, of impotent animal rage baffled by its
+own abject misery.]
+
+BURKE--[Peers blinkingly about the cabin--hoarsely.] Let you not be
+hiding from me, whoever's here--though 'tis well you know I'd have a
+right to come back and murder you. [He stops to listen. Hearing no
+sound, he closes the door behind him and comes forward to the table. He
+throws himself into the rocking-chair--despondently.] There's no one
+here, I'm thinking, and 'tis a great fool I am to be coming. [With a
+sort of dumb, uncomprehending anguish.] Yerra, Mat Burke, 'tis a great
+jackass you've become and what's got into you at all, at all? She's
+gone out of this long ago, I'm telling you, and you'll never see her
+face again. [ANNA stands up, hesitating, struggling between joy and
+fear. BURKE'S eyes fall on ANNA'S bag. He leans over to examine it.]
+What's this? [Joyfully.] It's hers. She's not gone! But where is she?
+Ashore? [Darkly.] What would she be doing ashore on this rotten night?
+[His face suddenly convulsed with grief and rage.] 'Tis that, is it?
+Oh, God's curse on her! [Raging.] I'll wait 'till she comes and choke
+her dirty life out. [ANNA starts, her face grows hard. She steps into
+the room, the revolver in her right hand by her side.]
+
+ANNA--[In a cold, hard tone.] What are you doing here?
+
+BURKE--[Wheeling about with a terrified gasp] Glory be to God! [They
+remain motionless and silent for a moment, holding each other's eyes.]
+
+ANNA--[In the same hard voice] Well, can't you talk?
+
+BURKE--[Trying to fall into an easy, careless tone] You've a year's
+growth scared out of me, coming at me so sudden and me thinking I was
+alone.
+
+ANNA--You've got your nerve butting in here without knocking or
+nothing. What d'you want?
+
+BURKE--[Airily] Oh, nothing much. I was wanting to have a last word
+with you, that's all. [He moves a step toward her.]
+
+ANNA--[Sharply--raising the revolver in her hand.] Careful now! Don't
+try getting too close. I heard what you said you'd do to me.
+
+BURKE--[Noticing the revolver for the first time.] Is it murdering me
+you'd be now, God forgive you? [Then with a contemptuous laugh.] Or is
+it thinking I'd be frightened by that old tin whistle? [He walks
+straight for her.]
+
+ANNA--[Wildly.] Look out, I tell you!
+
+BURKE--[Who has come so close that the revolver is almost touching his
+chest.] Let you shoot, then! [Then with sudden wild grief.] Let you
+shoot, I'm saying, and be done with it! Let you end me with a shot and
+I'll be thanking you, for it's a rotten dog's life I've lived the past
+two days since I've known what you are, 'til I'm after wishing I was
+never born at all!
+
+ANNA--[Overcome--letting the revolver drop to the floor, as if her
+fingers had no strength to hold it--hysterically.] What d'you want
+coming here? Why don't you beat it? Go on! [She passes him and sinks
+down in the rocking-chair.]
+
+BURKE--[Following her--mournfully.] 'Tis right you'd be asking why did
+I come. [Then angrily.] 'Tis because 'tis a great weak fool of the
+world I am, and me tormented with the wickedness you'd told of
+yourself, and drinking oceans of booze that'd make me forget. Forget?
+Divil a word I'd forget, and your face grinning always in front of my
+eyes, awake or asleep, 'til I do be thinking a madhouse is the proper
+place for me.
+
+ANNA--[Glancing at his hands and--face--scornfully] You look like you
+ought to be put away some place. Wonder you wasn't pulled in. You been
+scrapping, too, ain't you?
+
+BURKE--I have--with every scut would take off his coat to me!
+[Fiercely.] And each time I'd be hitting one a clout in the mug, it
+wasn't his face I'd be seeing at all, but yours, and me wanting to
+drive you a blow would knock you out of this world where I wouldn't be
+seeing or thinking more of you.
+
+ANNA--[Her lips trembling pitifully] Thanks!
+
+BURKE--[Walking up and down--distractedly.] That's right, make game of
+me! Oh, I'm a great coward surely, to be coming back to speak with you
+at all. You've a right to laugh at me.
+
+ANNA--I ain't laughing at you, Mat.
+
+BURKE--[Unheeding.] You to be what you are, and me to be Mat Burke, and
+me to be drove back to look at you again! 'Tis black shame is on me!
+
+ANNA--[Resentfully.] Then get out. No one's holding you!
+
+BURKE--[Bewilderedly] And me to listen to that talk from a woman like
+you and be frightened to close her mouth with a slap! Oh, God help me,
+I'm a yellow coward for all men to spit at! [Then furiously] But I'll
+not be getting out of this 'till I've had me word. [Raising his fist
+threateningly] And let you look out how you'd drive me! [Letting his
+fist fall helplessly] Don't be angry now! I'm raving like a real
+lunatic, I'm thinking, and the sorrow you put on me has my brains
+drownded in grief. [Suddenly bending down to her and grasping her arm
+intensely] Tell me it's a lie, I'm saying! That's what I'm after coming
+to hear you say.
+
+ANNA--[Dully] A lie? What?
+
+BURKE--[With passionate entreaty] All the badness you told me two days
+back. Sure it must be a lie! You was only making game of me, wasn't
+you? Tell me 'twas a lie, Anna, and I'll be saying prayers of thanks on
+my two knees to the Almighty God!
+
+ANNA--[Terribly shaken--faintly.] I can't. Mat. [As he turns
+away--imploringly.] Oh, Mat, won't you see that no matter what I was I
+ain't that any more? Why, listen! I packed up my bag this afternoon and
+went ashore. I'd been waiting here all alone for two days, thinking
+maybe you'd come back--thinking maybe you'd think over all I'd
+said--and maybe--oh, I don't know what I was hoping! But I was afraid
+to even go out of the cabin for a second, honest--afraid you might come
+and not find me here. Then I gave up hope when you didn't show up and I
+went to the railroad station. I was going to New York. I was going
+back--
+
+BURKE--[Hoarsely.] God's curse on you!
+
+ANNA--Listen, Mat! You hadn't come, and I'd gave up hope. But--in the
+station--I couldn't go. I'd bought my ticket and everything. [She takes
+the ticket from her dress and tries to hold it before his eyes.] But I
+got to thinking about you--and I couldn't take the train--I couldn't!
+So I come back here--to wait some more. Oh, Mat, don't you see I've
+changed? Can't you forgive what's dead and gone--and forget it?
+
+BURKE--[Turning on her--overcome by rage again.] Forget, is it? I'll
+not forget 'til my dying day, I'm telling you, and me tormented with
+thoughts. [In a frenzy.] Oh, I'm wishing I had wan of them fornenst me
+this minute and I'd beat him with my fists 'till he'd be a bloody
+corpse! I'm wishing the whole lot of them will roast in hell 'til the
+Judgment Day--and yourself along with them, for you're as bad as they
+are.
+
+ANNA--[Shuddering.] Mat! [Then after a pause--in a voice of dead, stony
+calm.] Well, you've had your say. Now you better beat it.
+
+BURKE--[Starts slowly for the door--hesitates--then after a pause.] And
+what'll you be doing?
+
+ANNA--What difference does it make to you?
+
+BURKE--I'm asking you!
+
+ANNA--[In the same tone.] My bag's packed and I got my ticket. I'll go
+to New York to-morrow.
+
+BURKE--[Helplessly.] You mean--you'll be doing the same again?
+
+ANNA--[Stonily.] Yes.
+
+BURKE--[In anguish.] You'll not! Don't torment me with that talk! 'Tis
+a she-divil you are sent to drive me mad entirely!
+
+ANNA--[Her voice breaking.] Oh, for Gawd's sake, Mat, leave me alone!
+Go away! Don't you see I'm licked? Why d'you want to keep on kicking me?
+
+BURKE--[Indignantly.] And don't you deserve the worst I'd say, God
+forgive you?
+
+ANNA--All right. Maybe I do. But don't rub it in. Why ain't you done
+what you said you was going to? Why ain't you got that ship was going
+to take you to the other side of the earth where you'd never see me
+again?
+
+BURKE--I have.
+
+ANNA--[Startled.] What--then you're going--honest?
+
+BURKE--I signed on to-day at noon, drunk as I was--and she's sailing
+to-morrow.
+
+ANNA--And where's she going to?
+
+BURKE--Cape Town.
+
+ANNA--[The memory of having heard that name a little while before
+coming to her--with a start, confusedly.] Cape Town? Where's that. Far
+away?
+
+BURKE--'Tis at the end of Africa. That's far for you.
+
+ANNA--[Forcing a laugh.] You're keeping your word all right, ain't you?
+[After a slight pause--curiously.] What's the boat's name?
+
+BURKE--The Londonderry.
+
+ANNA--[It suddenly comes to her that this is the same ship her father
+is sailing on.] The Londonderry! It's the same--Oh, this is too much!
+[With wild, ironical laughter.] Ha-ha-ha!
+
+BURKE--What's up with you now?
+
+ANNA--Ha-ha-ha! It's funny, funny! I'll die laughing!
+
+BURKE--[Irritated.] Laughing at what?
+
+ANNA--It's a secret. You'll know soon enough. It's funny. [Controlling
+herself--after a pause--cynically.] What kind of a place is this Cape
+Town? Plenty of dames there, I suppose?
+
+BURKE--To hell with them! That I may never see another woman to my
+dying hour!
+
+ANNA--That's what you say now, but I'll bet by the time you get there
+you'll have forgot all about me and start in talking the same old bull
+you talked to me to the first one you meet.
+
+BURKE--[Offended.] I'll not, then! God mend you, is it making me out to
+be the like of yourself you are, and you taking up with this one and
+that all the years of your life?
+
+ANNA--[Angrily assertive.] Yes, that's yust what I do mean! You been
+doing the same thing all your life, picking up a new girl in every
+port. How're you any better than I was?
+
+BURKE--[Thoroughly exasperated.] Is it no shame you have at all? I'm a
+fool to be wasting talk on you and you hardened in badness. I'll go out
+of this and lave you alone forever. [He starts for the door--then stops
+to turn on her furiously] And I suppose 'tis the same lies you told
+them all before that you told to me?
+
+ANNA--[Indignantly.] That's a lie! I never did!
+
+BURKE--[Miserably.] You'd be saying that, anyway.
+
+ANNA--[Forcibly, with growing intensity.] Are you trying to accuse
+me--of being in love--really in love--with them?
+
+BURKE--I'm thinking you were, surely.
+
+ANNA--[Furiously, as if this were the last insult--advancing on him
+threateningly] You mutt, you! I've stood enough from you. Don't you
+dare. [With scornful bitterness.] Love 'em! Oh, my Gawd! You damn
+thick-head! Love 'em? [Savagely.] I hated 'em, I tell you! Hated 'em,
+hated 'em, hated 'em! And may Gawd strike me dead this minute and my
+mother, too, if she was alive, if I ain't telling you the honest truth!
+
+BURKE--[Immensely pleased by her vehemence--a light beginning to break
+over his face--but still uncertain, torn between doubt and the desire
+to believe--helplessly.] If I could only be believing you now!
+
+ANNA--[Distractedly.] Oh, what's the use? What's the use of me talking?
+What's the use of anything? [Pleadingly.] Oh, Mat, you mustn't think
+that for a second! You mustn't! Think all the other bad about me you
+want to, and I won't kick, 'cause you've a right to. But don't think
+that! [On the point of tears.] I couldn't bear it! It'd be yust too
+much to know you was going away where I'd never see you again--thinking
+that about me!
+
+BURKE--[After an inward struggle--tensely--forcing out the words with
+difficulty.] If I was believing--that you'd never had love for any
+other man in the world but me--I could be forgetting the rest, maybe.
+
+ANNA--[With a cry of joy.] Mat!
+
+BURKE--[Slowly.] If 'tis truth you're after telling, I'd have a right,
+maybe, to believe you'd changed--and that I'd changed you myself 'til
+the thing you'd been all your life wouldn't be you any more at all.
+
+ANNA--[Hanging on his words--breathlessly.] Oh, Mat! That's what I been
+trying to tell you all along!
+
+BURKE--[Simply.] For I've a power of strength in me to lead men the way
+I want, and women, too, maybe, and I'm thinking I'd change you to a new
+woman entirely, so I'd never know, or you either, what kind of woman
+you'd been in the past at all.
+
+ANNA--Yes, you could, Mat! I know you could!
+
+BURKE--And I'm thinking 'twasn't your fault, maybe, but having that old
+ape for a father that left you to grow up alone, made you what you was.
+And if I could be believing 'tis only me you--
+
+ANNA--[Distractedly.] You got to believe it. Mat! What can I do? I'll
+do anything, anything you want to prove I'm not lying!
+
+BURKE--[Suddenly seems to have a solution. He feels in the pocket of
+his coat and grasps something--solemnly.] Would you be willing to swear
+an oath, now--a terrible, fearful oath would send your soul to the
+divils in hell if you was lying?
+
+ANNA--[Eagerly.] Sure, I'll swear, Mat--on anything!
+
+BURKE--[Takes a small, cheap old crucifix from his pocket and holds it
+up for her to see.] Will you swear on this?
+
+ANNA--[Reaching out for it.] Yes. Sure I will. Give it to me.
+
+BURKE--[Holding it away.] 'Tis a cross was given me by my mother, God
+rest her soul. [He makes the sign of the cross mechanically.] I was a
+lad only, and she told me to keep it by me if I'd be waking or sleeping
+and never lose it, and it'd bring me luck. She died soon after. But I'm
+after keeping it with me from that day to this, and I'm telling you
+there's great power in it, and 'tis great bad luck it's saved me from
+and me roaming the seas, and I having it tied round my neck when my
+last ship sunk, and it bringing me safe to land when the others went to
+their death. [Very earnestly.] And I'm warning you now, if you'd swear
+an oath on this, 'tis my old woman herself will be looking down from
+Hivin above, and praying Almighty God and the Saints to put a great
+curse on you if she'd hear you swearing a lie!
+
+ANNA--[Awed by his manner--superstitiously] I wouldn't have the
+nerve--honest--if it was a lie. But it's the truth and I ain't scared
+to swear. Give it to me.
+
+BURKE--[Handing it to her--almost frightenedly, as if he feared for her
+safety.] Be careful what you'd swear, I'm saying.
+
+ANNA--[Holding the cross gingerly.] Well--what do you want me to swear?
+You say it.
+
+BURKE--Swear I'm the only man in the world ivir you felt love for.
+
+ANNA--[Looking into his eyes steadily] I swear it.
+
+BURKE--And that you'll be forgetting from this day all the badness
+you've done and never do the like of it again.
+
+ANNA--[Forcibly.] I swear it! I swear it by God!
+
+BURKE--And may the blackest curse of God strike you if you're lying.
+Say it now!
+
+ANNA--And may the blackest curse of God strike me if I'm lying!
+
+BURKE--[With a stupendous sigh.] Oh, glory be to God, I'm after
+believing you now! [He takes the cross from her hand, his face beaming
+with joy, and puts it back in his pocket. He puts his arm about her
+waist and is about to kiss her when he stops, appalled by some terrible
+doubt.]
+
+ANNA--[Alarmed.] What's the matter with you?
+
+BURKE--[With sudden fierce questioning.] Is it Catholic ye are?
+
+ANNA--[Confused.] No. Why?
+
+BURKE--[Filled with a sort of bewildered foreboding.] Oh, God, help me!
+[With a dark glance of suspicion at her.] There's some divil's trickery
+in it, to be swearing an oath on a Catholic cross and you wan of the
+others.
+
+ANNA--[Distractedly.] Oh, Mat, don't you believe me?
+
+BURKE--[Miserably.] If it isn't a Catholic you are--
+
+ANNA--I ain't nothing. What's the difference? Didn't you hear me swear?
+
+BURKE--[Passionately.] Oh, I'd a right to stay away from you--but I
+couldn't! I was loving you in spite of it all and wanting to be with
+you, God forgive me, no matter what you are. I'd go mad if I'd not have
+you! I'd be killing the world--[He seizes her in his arms and kisses
+her fiercely.]
+
+ANNA--[With a gasp of joy.] Mat!
+
+BURKE--[Suddenly holding her away from him and staring into her eyes as
+if to probe into her soul--slowly.] If your oath is no proper oath at
+all, I'll have to be taking your naked word for it and have you anyway,
+I'm thinking--I'm needing you that bad!
+
+ANNA--[Hurt--reproachfully.] Mat! I swore, didn't I?
+
+BURKE--[Defiantly, as if challenging fate.] Oath or no oath, 'tis no
+matter. We'll be wedded in the morning, with the help of God. [Still
+more defiantly.] We'll be happy now, the two of us, in spite of the
+divil! [He crushes her to him and kisses her again. The door on the
+left is pushed open and CHRIS appears in the doorway. He stands
+blinking at them. At first the old expression of hatred of BURKE comes
+into his eyes instinctively. Then a look of resignation and relief
+takes its place. His face lights up with a sudden happy thought. He
+turns back into the bedroom--reappears immediately with the tin can of
+beer in his hand grinning.]
+
+CHRIS--Me have drink on this, py golly! [They break away from each
+other with startled exclamations.]
+
+BURKE--[Explosively.] God stiffen it! [He takes a step toward CHRIS
+threateningly.]
+
+ANNA--[Happily--to her father.] That's the way to talk! [With a laugh.]
+And say, it's about time for you and Mat to kiss and make up. You're
+going to be shipmates on the Londonderry, did you know it?
+
+BURKE--[Astounded.] Shipmates--Has himself--
+
+CHRIS--[Equally astounded.] Ay vas bo'sun on her.
+
+BURKE--The divil! [Then angrily.] You'd be going back to sea and
+leaving her alone, would you?
+
+ANNA--[Quickly.] It's all right, Mat. That's where he belongs, and I
+want him to go. You got to go, too; we'll need the money. [With a
+laugh, as she gets the glasses.] And as for me being alone, that runs
+in the family, and I'll get used to it. [Pouring out their glasses.]
+I'll get a little house somewhere and I'll make a regular place for you
+two to come back to,--wait and see. And now you drink up and be friends.
+
+BURKE--[Happily--but still a bit resentful against the old man.] Sure!
+[Clinking his glass against CHRIS'.] Here's luck to you! [He drinks.]
+
+CHRIS--[Subdued--his face melancholy.] Skoal. [He drinks.]
+
+BURKE--[To Anna, with a wink.] You'll not be lonesome long. I'll see to
+that, with the help of God. 'Tis himself here will be having a
+grandchild to ride on his foot, I'm telling you!
+
+ANNA--[Turning away in embarrassment.] Quit the kidding, now. [She
+picks up her bag and goes into the room on left. As soon as she is gone
+BURKE relapses into an attitude of gloomy thought. CHRIS stares at his
+beer absent-mindedly. Finally BURKE turns on him.]
+
+BURKE--Is it any religion at all you have, you and your Anna?
+
+CHRIS--[Surprised.] Vhy yes. Ve vas Lutheran in ole country.
+
+BURKE--[Horrified.] Luthers, is it? [Then with a grim resignation,
+slowly, aloud to himself.] Well, damned then surely. Yerra, what's the
+difference? 'Tis the will of God, anyway.
+
+CHRIS--[Moodily preoccupied with his own thoughts--speaks with somber
+premonition as ANNA re-enters from the left.] It's funny. It's queer,
+yes--you and me shipping on same boat dat vay. It ain't right. Ay don't
+know--it's dat funny vay ole davil sea do her vorst dirty tricks, yes.
+It's so. [He gets up and goes back and, opening the door, stares out
+into the darkness.]
+
+BURKE--[Nodding his head in gloomy acquiescence--with a great sigh.]
+I'm fearing maybe you have the right of it for once, divil take you.
+
+ANNA--[Forcing a laugh.] Gee, Mat, you ain't agreeing with him, are
+you? [She comes forward and puts her arm about his shoulder--with a
+determined gaiety.] Aw say, what's the matter? Cut out the gloom. We're
+all fixed now, ain't we, me and you? [Pours out more beer into his
+glass and fills one for herself--slaps him on the back.] Come on!
+Here's to the sea, no matter what! Be a game sport and drink to that!
+Come on! [She gulps down her glass. Burke banishes his superstitious
+premonitions with a defiant jerk of his head, grins up at her, and
+drinks to her toast.]
+
+CHRIS--[Looking out into the night--lost in his somber
+preoccupation--shakes his head and mutters.] Fog, fog, fog, all bloody
+time. You can't see vhere you vas going, no. Only dat ole davil,
+sea--she knows! [The two stare at him. From the harbor comes the
+muffled, mournful wail of steamers' whistles.]
+
+[The Curtain Falls]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Anna Christie, by Eugene O'Neill
+
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