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diff --git a/old/nnchr10.txt b/old/nnchr10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f14a2e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/nnchr10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3747 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Anna Christie, by Eugene O'Neill +#2 in our series by Eugene O'Neill + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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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! + +BUEKE--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! + +BUREKE--'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? + +BUEKE--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 Project Gutenberg's Anna Christie, by Eugene O'Neill + diff --git a/old/nnchr10.zip b/old/nnchr10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d449d42 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/nnchr10.zip |