The Hairy Ape Eugene O’Neill (best novels of all time TXT) 📖

take a wise man to tell one from the other. With a bitter, ironical scorn, increasing as he goes on. But I’m telling you it’s love that’s in it. Sure what else but love for us poor bastes in the stokehole would be bringing a fine lady, dressed like a white quane, down a mile of ladders and steps to be havin’ a look at us? A growl of anger goes up from all sides. Long Jumping on a bench⁠—hecticly. Hinsultin’ us! Hinsultin’ us, the bloody cow! And them bloody engineers! What right ’as they got to be exhibitin’ us ’s if we was bleedin’ monkeys in a menagerie? Did we sign for hinsults to our dignity as ’onest workers? Is that in the ship’s articles? You kin bloody well bet it ain’t! But I knows why they done it. I arsked a deck steward ’o she was and ’e told me. ’Er old man’s a bleedin’ millionaire, a bloody Capitalist! ’E’s got enuf bloody gold to sink this bleedin’ ship! ’E makes arf the bloody steel in the world! ’E owns this bloody boat! And you and me, comrades, we’re ’is slaves! And the skipper and mates and engineers, they’re ’is slaves! And she’s ’is bloody daughter and we’re all ’er slaves, too! And she gives ’er orders as ’ow she wants to see the bloody animals below decks and down they takes ’er! There is a roar of rage from all sides. Yank Blinking at him bewilderedly. Say! Wait a moment! Is all dat straight goods? Long Straight as string! The bleedin’ steward as waits on ’em, ’e told me about ’er. And what’re we goin’ ter do, I arsks yer? ’Ave we got ter swaller ’er hinsults like dogs? It ain’t in the ship’s articles. I tell yer we got a case. We kin go ter law⁠— Yank With abysmal contempt. Hell! Law! All Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery. Law! The word has a brazen metallic quality as if their throats were phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard, barking laughter. Long Feeling the ground slipping from under his feet⁠—desperately. As voters and citizens we kin force the bloody governments⁠— Yank With abysmal contempt. Hell! Governments! All Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery. Governments! The word has a brazen metallic quality as if their throats were phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard, barking laughter. Long Hysterically. We’re free and equal in the sight of God⁠— Yank With abysmal contempt. Hell! God! All Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery. God! The word has a brazen metallic quality as if their throats were phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard, barking laughter. Yank Witheringly. Aw, join de Salvation Army! All Sit down! Shut up! Damn fool! Sea-lawyer! Long slinks back out of sight. Paddy Continuing the trend of his thoughts as if he had never been interrupted⁠—bitterly. And there she was standing behind us, and the Second pointing at us like a man you’d hear in a circus would be saying: In this cage is a queerer kind of baboon than ever you’d find in darkest Africy. We roast them in their own sweat⁠—and be damned if you won’t hear some of thim saying they like it! He glances scornfully at Yank. Yank With a bewildered uncertain growl. Aw! Paddy And there was Yank roarin’ curses and turning round wid his shovel to brain her⁠—and she looked at him, and him at her⁠— Yank Slowly. She was all white. I tought she was a ghost. Sure. Paddy With heavy, biting sarcasm. ’Twas love at first sight, divil a doubt of it! If you’d seen the endearin’ look on her pale mug when she shrivelled away with her hands over her eyes to shut out the sight of him! Sure, ’twas as if she’d seen a great hairy ape escaped from the Zoo! Yank Stung⁠—with a growl of rage. Aw! Paddy And the loving way Yank heaved his shovel at the skull of her, only she was out the door! A grin breaking over his face. ’Twas touching, I’m telling you! It put the touch of home, swate home in the stokehole. There is a roar of laughter from all. Yank Glaring at Paddy menacingly. Aw, choke dat off, see! Paddy Not heeding him⁠—to the others. And her grabbin’ at the Second’s arm for protection. With a grotesque imitation of a woman’s voice. Kiss me, Engineer dear, for it’s dark down here and me old man’s in Wall Street making money! Hug me tight, darlin’, for I’m afeerd in the dark and me mother’s on deck makin’ eyes at the skipper! Another roar of laughter. Yank Threateningly. Say! What yuh tryin’ to do, kid me, yuh old Harp? Paddy Divil a bit! Ain’t I wishin’ myself you’d brained her? Yank Fiercely. I’ll brain her! I’ll brain her yet, wait ’n’ see! Coming over to Paddy⁠—slowly. Say, is dat what she called me⁠—a hairy ape? Paddy She looked it at you if she didn’t say the word itself. Yank Grinning horribly. Hairy ape, huh? Sure! Dat’s de way she looked at me, aw right. Hairy ape! So dat’s me, huh? Bursting into rage⁠—as if she were still in front of him. Yuh skinny tart! Yuh white-faced bum, yuh! I’ll show yuh who’s a ape! Turning to the others, bewilderment seizing him again. Say, youse guys. I was bawlin’ him out for pullin’ de whistle on us. You heard me. And den I seen youse lookin’ at somep’n and I tought he’d sneaked down to come up in back of me, and I hopped round to knock him dead wit de shovel. And dere she was wit de light on her! Christ, yuh coulda pushed me over with a finger! I was scared, get me? Sure! I tought