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]
