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The Hairy Ape, a play by Eugene O'Neill |
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Scene 5 |
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_ SCENE V SCENE--Three weeks later. A corner of Fifth Avenue in the Fifties on a fine, Sunday morning. A general atmosphere of clean, well-tidied, wide street; a flood of mellow, tempered sunshine; gentle, genteel breezes. In the rear, the show windows of two shops, a jewelry establishment on the corner, a furrier's next to it. Here the adornments of extreme wealth are tantalizingly displayed. The jeweler's window is gaudy with glittering diamonds, emeralds, rubies, pearls, etc., fashioned in ornate tiaras, crowns, necklaces, collars, etc. From each piece hangs an enormous tag from which a dollar sign and numerals in intermittent electric lights wink out the incredible prices. The same in the furrier's. Rich furs of all varieties hang there bathed in a downpour of artificial light. The general effect is of a background of magnificence cheapened and made grotesque by commercialism, a background in tawdry disharmony with the clear light and sunshine on the street itself. Up the side street Yank and Long come swaggering. Long is dressed in shore clothes, wears a black Windsor tie, cloth cap. Yank is in his dirty dungarees. A fireman's cap with black peak is cocked defiantly on the side of his head. He has not shaved for days and around his fierce, resentful eyes--as around those of Long to a lesser degree--the black smudge of coal dust still sticks like make-up. They hesitate and stand together at the corner, swaggering, looking about them with a forced, defiant contempt. LONG Well, 'ere we are. Fif' Avenoo. This 'ere's their [Bitterly.] YANK I don't see no grass, yuh boob. [Staring at the sidewalk.] [Looking up and down the avenue--surlily.] LONG YANK [With a grin.] [With a grin and a swagger.] LONG YANK [Looking around him.] [Taking a deep breath.] LONG YANK Aw, hell! I don't see noone, see--like her. All dis gives me a pain. It don't belong. Say, ain't dere a backroom around dis dump? Let's go shoot a ball. All dis is too clean and quiet and dolled-up, get me! It gives me a pain. LONG YANK LONG YANK Sure ting I do! Didn't I try to git even wit her in Southampton? Didn't I sneak on de dock and wait for her by de gangplank? I was goin' to spit in her pale mug, see! Sure, right in her pop-eyes! Dat woulda made me even, see? But no chanct. Dere was a whole army of plain clothes bulls around. Dey spotted me and gimme de bum's rush. I never seen her. But I'll git square wit her yet, you watch! [Furiously.] LONG Ain't that why I brought yer up 'ere--to show yer? Yer been lookin' at this 'ere 'ole affair wrong. Yer been actin' an' talkin' 's if it was all a bleedin' personal matter between yer and that bloody cow. I wants to convince yer she was on'y a representative of 'er clarss. I wants to awaken yer bloody clarss consciousness. Then yer'll see it's 'er clarss yer've got to fight, not 'er alone. There's a 'ole mob of 'em like 'er, Gawd blind 'em! YANK De more de merrier when I gits started. Bring on de gang! LONG. [He turns and sees the window display in the two stores for the first time.] [They both walk back and stand looking in the jewelers. Long flies into a fury.] YANK. [With naive admiration.] [Then turning away, bored.] [With a gesture of sweeping the jewelers into oblivion.] LONG And I s'pose this 'ere don't count neither--skins of poor, YANK [Bewilderedly.] LONG [With grim humor.] YANK Trowin' it up in my face! Christ! I'll fix her! LONG Church is out. 'Ere they come, the bleedin' swine. [After a glance at Yank's lowering face--uneasily.] YANK Votes, hell! Votes is a joke, see. Votes for women! Let dem do it! LONG Calm, now. Treat 'em wiv the proper contempt. Observe the bleedin' parasites but 'old yer 'orses. YANK Git away from me! Yuh're yellow, dat's what. Force, dat's me! De punch, dat's me every time, see! [The crowd from church enter from the right, sauntering slowly and affectedly, their heads held stiffly up, looking neither to right nor left, talking in toneless, simpering voices. The women are rouged, calcimined, dyed, overdressed to the nth degree. The men are in Prince Alberts, high hats, spats, canes, etc. A procession of gaudy marionettes, yet with something of the relentless horror of Frankensteins in their detached, mechanical unawareness.]
YANK Huh! Huh! [Without seeming to see him, they make wide detours to LONG YANK G'wan! Tell it to Sweeney! [He swaggers away and deliberately lurches into a top-hatted gentleman, then glares at him pugnaciously.] GENTLEMAN I beg your pardon. [He has not looked at YANK and passes on without a glance, leaving him bewildered.] LONG 'Ere! Come away! This wasn't what I meant. YANK G'wan! LONG I'll pop orf then. This ain't what I meant. [He slinks off left.] YANK [He approaches a lady--with a vicious grin and a smirking wink.] [The lady stalks by without a look, without a [Pointing to a skyscraper across the street which is See dat building goin' up dere? See de steel work? Steel, dat's me! Youse guys live on it and tink yuh're somep'n. But I'm IN it, see! I'm de hoistin' engine dat makes it go up! I'm it--de inside and bottom of it! Sure! I'm steel and steam and smoke and de rest of it! It moves--speed--twenty-five stories up--and me at de top and bottom--movin'! Youse simps don't move. Yuh're on'y dolls I winds up to see 'm spin. Yuh're de garbage, get me--de leavins--de ashes we dump over de side! Now, whata yuh gotto say? [But as they seem neither to see nor hear him, he flies into a fury.] Bums! Pigs! Tarts! Bitches! [He turns in a rage on the men, bumping viciously into them but not jarring them the least bit. Rather it is he who recoils after each collision. He keeps growling.] Git off de oith! G'wan, yuh bum! Look where yuh're goin,' can't yuh? Git outa here! Fight, why don't yuh? Put up yer mits! Don't be a dog! Fight or I'll knock yuh dead! [But, without seeming to see him, they all I beg your pardon. [Then at a cry from one of the women, they all THE WOMAN Monkey fur! [The whole crowd of men and women chorus after her in the same tone of affected delight.] Monkey fur! YANK I see yuh, all in white! I see yuh, yuh white-faced tart, yuh! Hairy ape, huh? I'll hairy ape yuh! [He bends down and grips at the street curbing as if to pluck it out and hurl it. Foiled in this, snarling with passion, he leaps to the lamp-post on the corner and tries to pull it up for a club. Just at that moment a bus is heard rumbling up. A fat, high-hatted, spatted gentleman runs out from the side street. He calls out plaintively: "Bus! Bus! Stop there!" and runs full tilt into the bending, straining YANK, who is bowled off his balance.] YANK At last! Bus, huh? I'll bust yuh! [He lets drive a terrific swing, his fist landing full GENTLEMAN [Then irritably.] [He claps his hands and begins to scream:] [Many police whistles shrill out on the instant and a whole platoon of policemen rush in on YANK from all sides. He tries to fight but is clubbed to the pavement and fallen upon. The crowd at the window have not moved or noticed this disturbance. The clanging gong of the patrol wagon approaches with a clamoring din.]
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