Authors: Eugene O'Neill,Harold Bloom
ROCKY
De old anarchist wise guy dat knows all de answers! Dat’s you, huh?
LARRY
Frowns
.
Forget the anarchist part of it. I’m through with the Movement long since. I saw men didn’t want to be saved from themselves, for that would mean they’d have to give up greed, and they’ll never pay that price for liberty. So I said to the world, God bless all here, and may the best man win and die of gluttony! And I took a seat in the grandstand of philosophical detachment to fall asleep observing the cannibals do their death dance.
He chuckles at his own fancy
—
reaches over and shakes Hugo’s shoulder
. Ain’t I telling him the truth, Comrade Hugo?
ROCKY
Aw, fer Chris’ sake, don’t get dat bughouse bum started!
HUGO
Raises his head and peers at
rocky
blearily through his thick spectacles
—
in a guttural declamatory tone
.
Capitalist swine! Bourgeois stool pigeons! Have the slaves no right to sleep even?
Then he grins
atrocky
and his manner changes to a giggling, wheedling playfulness, as though he were talking to a child
. Hello, leedle Rocky! Leedle monkey-face! Vere is your leedle slave girls?
With an abrupt change to a bullying tone
.
Don’t be a fool! Loan me a dollar! Damned bourgeois Wop! The great Malatesta is my good friend! Buy me a trink!
He seems to run down, and is overcome by drowsiness. His head sinks to the tab
le
again and he is at once fast asleep
.
ROCKY
He’s out again.
More exasperated than angry
.
He’s lucky no one don’t take his cracks serious or he’d wake up every mornin’ in a hospital.
LARRY
Regarding
hugo
with pity
.
No. No one takes him seriously. That’s his epitaph. Not even the comrades any more. If I’ve been through with the Movement long since, it’s been through with him, and, thanks to whiskey, he’s the only one doesn’t know it.
ROCKY
I’ve let him get by wid too much. He’s goin’ to pull dat slave-girl stuff on me once too often.
His manner changes to defensive argument
.
Hell, yuh’d tink I wuz a pimp or somethin’. Everybody knows me knows I ain’t. A pimp don’t hold no job. I’m a bartender. Dem tarts, Margie and Poil, dey’re just a side line to pick up some extra dough. Strictly business, like dey was fighters and I was deir manager, see? I fix the cops fer dem so’s dey can hustle widout gettin’ pinched. Hell, dey’d be on de Island most of de time if it wasn’t fer me. And I don’t beat dem up like a pimp would. I treat dem fine. Dey like me. We’re pals, see? What if I do take deir dough? Dey’d on’y trow it away. Tarts can’t hang on to dough. But I’m a bartender and I work hard for my livin’ in dis dump. You know dat, Larry.
LARRY
With inner sardonic amusement
—
flatteringly
.
A shrewd business man, who doesn’t miss any opportunity to get on in the world. That’s what I’d call you.
ROCKY
Pleased
.
Sure ting. Dat’s me. Grab another ball,
LARRY
.
LARRY
pours a drink from the bottle on
willie’s
table and gulps it down
.
ROCKY
glances around the room
.
Yuh’d never tink all dese bums had a good bed upstairs to go to. Scared if dey hit the hay dey wouldn’t be here when Hickey showed up, and dey’d miss a coupla drinks. Dat’s what kept you up too, ain’t it?
LARRY
It is. But not so much the hope of booze, if you can believe that. I’ve got the blues and Hickey’s a great one to make a joke of everything and cheer you up.
ROCKY
Yeah, some kidder! Remember how he woiks up dat gag about his wife, when he’s cockeyed, cryin’ over her picture and den springin’ it on yuh all of a sudden dat he left her in de hay wid de iceman?
He laughs
.
I wonder what’s happened to him. Yuh could set your watch by his periodicals before dis. Always got here a coupla days before Harry’s birthday party, and now he’s on’y got till tonight to make it. I hope he shows soon. Dis dump is like de morgue wid all dese bums passed out.
WILLIE OBAN
jerks and twitches in his sleep and begins to mumble
.
They watch him
.
WILLIE
Blurts from his dream
.
It’s a lie!
Miserably
.
Papa! Papa!
LARRY
Poor devil.
Then angry with himself
.
But to hell with pity! It does no good. I’m through with it!
ROCKY
Dreamin’ about his old man. From what de old-timers say, de old gent sure made a pile of dough in de bucket-shop game before de cops got him.
He considers
willie
fro
wn
ingly
.
Jees, I’ve seen him bad before but never dis bad. Look at dat get-up. Been playin’ de old reliever game. Sold his suit and shoes at Solly’s two days ago. Solly give him two bucks and a bum outfit. Yesterday he sells de bum one back to Solly for four bits and gets dese rags to put on. Now he’s through. Dat’s Solly’s final edition he wouldn’t take back for nuttin’. Willie sure is on de bottom. I ain’t never seen no one so bad, except Hickey on de end of a coupla his bats.
LARRY
Sardonically
.
It’s a great game, the pursuit of happiness.
ROCKY
Harry don’t know what to do about him. He called up his old lady’s lawyer like he always does when Willie gets licked. Yuh remember dey used to send down a private dick to give him the rush to a cure, but de lawyer tells Harry nix, de old lady’s off of Willie for keeps dis time and he can go to hell.
LARRY
Watches
WILLIE
,
who is shaking in his sleep like an old dog
.
There’s the consolation that he hasn’t far to go!
As if replying to this
, willie
comes to a crisis of jerks and moans
.
LARRY
adds in a comically intense, crazy whisper
.
Be God, he’s knocking on the door right now!
WILLIE
Suddenly yells in his nightmare
.
It’s a God-damned lie!
He begins to sob
.
Oh, Papa! Jesus!
All the occupants of the room stir on their chairs but none of them wakes up except
HOPE
.
ROCKY
Grabs his shoulder and shakes him
.
Hey, you! Nix! Cut out de noise! willie
opens his eyes to stare around him with a bewildered horror
.
HOPE
Opens one eye to peer over his spectacles
—
drowsily
.
Who’s that yelling?
ROCKY
Willie, Boss. De Brooklyn boys is after him.
HOPE
Querulously
.
Well, why don’t you give the poor feller a drink and keep him quiet?
Bejees, can’t I get a wink of sleep in my own back room?
ROCKY
Indignantly to
LARRY
.
Listen to that blind-eyed, deef old bastard, will yuh? He give me strict orders not to let Willie hang up no more drinks, no matter—
HOPE
Mechanically puts a hand to his ear in the gesture of deafness
.
What’s that? I can’t hear you.
Then drowsily irascible
.
You’re a cockeyed liar. Never refused a drink to anyone needed it bad in my life! Told you to use your judgment. Ought to know better. You’re too busy thinking up ways to cheat me. Oh, I ain’t as blind as you think. I can still see a cash register, bejees!
ROCKY
Grins at him affectionately now
—
flatteringly
.
Sure, Boss. Swell chance of foolin’ you!
HOPE
I’m wise to you and your sidekick, Chuck. Bejees, you’re burglars, not barkeeps! Blind-eyed, deef old bastard, am I? Oh, I heard you! Heard you often when you didn’t think. You and Chuck laughing behind my back, telling people you throw the money up in the air and whatever sticks to the ceiling is my share! A fine couple of crooks! You’d steal the pennies off your dead mother’s eyes!
ROCKY
Winks at
LARRY
.
Aw, Harry, me and Chuck was on’y kiddin’.
HOPE
More drowsily
.
I’ll fire both of you, Bejees, if you think you can play me for an easy mark, you’ve come to the wrong house. No one ever played Harry Hope for a sucker!
ROCKY
To
LARRY
.
No one but everybody.
HOPE
His eyes shut again
—
mutters
.
Least you could do—keep things quiet—
He falls asleep
.
WILLIE
Pleadingly
.
Give me a drink, Rocky. Harry said it was all right. God, I need a drink.
ROCKY
Den grab it. It’s right under your nose.
WILLIE
Avidly
.
Thanks.
He takes the bottle with both twitching hands and tilts it to his lips and gulps down the whiskey in big swallows
.
ROCKY
Sharply
.
When! When!
He grabs the bottle
.
I didn’t say, take a bath!
Showing the bottle to
larry—
indignantly
.
Jees, look! He’s killed a half pint or more!
He turns on
willie
angrily
, butwillie
has closed his eyes and is sitting quietly, shuddering, waiting for the effect
.
LARRY
With a pitying g
la
nce
.
Leave him be, the poor devil. A half pint of that dynamite in one swig will fix him for a while—if it doesn’t kill him.
ROCKY
Shrugs his shoulders and sits down again
.
Aw right by me. It ain’t my booze.
Behind him, in the chair at left of the midd
le
table
, joe mott,
the Negro, has been waking up
.
JOE
His eyes blinking sleepily
.
Whose booze? Gimme some. I don’t care whose. Where’s Hickey?
Ain’t he come yet? What time’s it, Rocky?
ROCKY
Gettin’ near time to open up. Time you begun to sweep up in de bar.
JOE
Lazily
.
Never mind de time. If Hickey ain’t come, it’s time Joe goes to sleep again. I was dreamin’ Hickey come in de door, crackin’ one of dem drummer’s jokes, wavin’ a big bankroll and we was all goin’ be drunk for two weeks. Wake up and no luck.
Suddenly his eyes open wide
.
Wait a minute, dough. I got idea. Say, Larry, how ’bout dat young guy, Parritt, came to look you up last night and rented a room?
Where’s he at?
LARRY
Up in his room, asleep. No hope in him, anyway, Joe. He’s broke.
JOE
Dat what he told you? Me and Rocky knows different. Had a roll when he paid you his room rent, didn’t he, Rocky? I seen it.
ROCKY
Yeah. He flashed it like he forgot and den tried to hide it quick.
LARRY
Surprised and resentful
. He did, did he?
ROCKY
Yeah, I figgered he don’t belong, but he said he was a friend of yours.
LARRY
He’s a liar. I wouldn’t know him if he hadn’t told me who he was. His mother and I were friends years ago on the Coast.
He hesitates
—
then lowering his voice
.
You’ve read in the papers about that bombing on the Coast when several people got killed? Well, the one woman they pinched, Rosa Parritt, is his mother. They’ll be coming up for trial soon, and there’s no chance for them. She’ll get life, I think. I’m telling you this so you’ll know why if Don acts a bit queer, and not jump on him. He must be hard hit. He’s her only kid.
ROCKY
Nods
—
then thoughtfully
.
Why ain’t he out dere stickin’ by her?
LARRY
Frowns
.
Don’t ask questions. Maybe there’s a good reason.
ROCKY
Stares at him
—
understandingly
.
Sure. I get it.
Then wonderingly
.
But den what kind of a sap is he to hang on to his right name?