Four Plays By Eugene O'Neill (Signet Classics)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Winner of four Pulitzer Prizes and the first American dramatist to receive a Nobel Prize, Eugene O'Neill filled his plays with rich characterization and innovative language, taking the outcasts and renegades of society and depicting their Olympian struggles with themselves-and with destiny.
thinking, a look of ill-concealed jealousy on her face. At a noise from inside she hurriedly disappears into the kitchen. A moment later ROBERT re-enters. He comes forward and picks up the shoes and stockings which he shoves carelessly under the table. Then, seeing no one about, he goes to the sideboard and selects a book. Coming back to his chair, he sits down and immediately becomes absorbed in reading. RUTH returns from the kitchen bringing his plate heaped with food, and a cup of tea. She
while we’ve always been together—just the two of us. It’s different with us. That’s why it hits so hard, I guess. ROBERT (with feeling): It’s just as hard for me, Andy—believe that! I hate to leave you and the old folks—but—I feel I’ve got to. There’s something calling me—(He points to the horizon) Oh, I can’t just explain it to you, Andy. ANDREW: No need to, Rob. (Angry at himself) Hell! You want to go—that’s all there is to it; and I wouldn’t have you miss this chance for the world. ROBERT:
(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 like of you ain’t living always on this tub. ANNA (wearily) : 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
fighting some strong inward emotion—impulsively): Wait a minute, Andy! (He jumps down from the fence) There is something I want to—(He stops abruptly, biting his lips, his face coloring.) ANDREW (facing him; half-defiantly): Yes? ROBERT (confusedly): No—never mind—it doesn’t matter, it was nothing. ANDREW (after a pause, during which he stares fixedly at ROBERT’S averted face): Maybe I can guess what—you were going to say—but I guess you’re . right not to talk about it. (He pulls ROBERT’S hand
Pinkerton? No, by God, you’re such a bonehead I’ll bet you’re in the Secret Service! Well, you dirty spy, you rotten agent provocator, you can go back and tell whatever skunk is paying you blood-money for betraying your brothers that he’s wasting his coin. You couldn’t catch a cold. And tell him that all he’ll ever get on us, or ever has got, is just his own sneaking plots that he’s framed up to put us in jail. We are what our manifesto says we are, neither more nor less—and we’ll give him a copy