Part 3

YANK--I scared her? Why de hell should I scare her? Who de hell is she? Ain't she de same as me? Hairy ape, huh? [_With his old confident bravado._] I'll show her I'm better'n her, if she on'y knew it. I belong and she don't, see! I move and she's dead! Twenty-five knots a hour, dats me! Dat carries her but I make dat. She's on'y baggage. Sure! [_Again bewilderedly._] But, Christ, she was funny lookin'! Did yuh pipe her hands? White and skinny. Yuh could see de bones trough 'em. And her mush, dat was dead white, too. And her eyes, dey was like dey'd seen a ghost. Me, dat was! Sure! Hairy ape! Ghost, huh? Look at dat arm! [_He extends his right arm, swelling out the great muscles._] I coulda took her wit dat, wit' just my little finger even, and broke her in two. [_Again bewilderedly._] Say, who is dat skoit, huh? What is she? What's she come from? Who made her? Who give her de noive to look at me like dat? Dis ting's got my goat right. I don't get her. She's new to me. What does a skoit like her mean, huh? She don't belong, get me! I can't see her. [_With growing anger._] But one ting I'm wise to, aw right, aw right! Youse all kin bet your shoits I'll git even wit her. I'll show her if she tinks she--She grinds de organ and I'm on de string, huh? I'll fix her! Let her come down again and I'll fling her in de furnace! She'll move den! She won't shiver at nothin', den! Speed, dat'll be her! She'll belong den! [_He grins horribly._]

PADDY--She'll never come. She's had her belly-full, I'm telling you. She'll be in bed now, I'm thinking, wid ten doctors and nurses feedin' her salts to clean the fear out of her.

YANK--[_Enraged._] Yuh tink I made her sick, too, do yuh? Just lookin' at me, huh? Hairy ape, huh? [_In a frenzy of rage._] I'll fix her! I'll tell her where to git off! She'll git down on her knees and take it back or I'll bust de face offen her! [_Shaking one fist upward and beating on his chest with the other._] I'll find yuh! I'm comin', d'yuh hear? I'll fix yuh, God damn yuh! [_He makes a rush for the door._]

VOICES--Stop him!

He'll get shot!

He'll murder her!

Trip him up!

Hold him!

He's gone crazy!

Gott, he's strong!

Hold him down!

Look out for a kick!

Pin his arms!

[_They have all piled on him and, after a fierce struggle, by sheer weight of numbers have borne him to the floor just inside the door._]

PADDY--[_Who has remained detached._] Kape him down till he's cooled off. [_Scornfully._] Yerra, Yank, you're a great fool. Is it payin' attention at all you are to the like of that skinny sow widout one drop of rale blood in her?

YANK--[_Frenziedly, from the bottom of the heap._] She done me doit! She done me doit, didn't she? I'll git square wit her! I'll get her some way! Git offen me, youse guys! Lemme up! I'll show her who's a ape!

[_Curtain_]

## 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--[_Indicating it all with an oratorical gesture._] Well, 'ere we are. Fif' Avenoo. This 'ere's their bleedin' private lane, as yer might say. [_Bitterly._] We're trespassers 'ere. Proletarians keep orf the grass!

YANK--[_Dully._] I don't see no grass, yuh boob. [_Staring at the sidewalk._] Clean, ain't it? Yuh could eat a fried egg offen it. The white wings got some job sweepin' dis up. [_Looking up and down the avenue--surlily._] Where's all de white-collar stiffs yuh said was here--and de skoits--her kind?

LONG--In church, blarst 'em! Arskin' Jesus to give 'em more money.

YANK--Choich, huh? I useter go to choich onct--sure--when I was a kid. Me old man and woman, dey made me. Dey never went demselves, dough. Always got too big a head on Sunday mornin', dat was dem. [_With a grin._] Dey was scrappers for fair, bot' of dem. On Satiday nights when dey bot' got a skinful dey could put up a bout oughter been staged at de Garden. When dey got trough dere wasn't a chair or table wit a leg under it. Or else dey bot' jumped on me for somep'n. Dat was where I loined to take punishment. [_With a grin and a swagger._] I'm a chip offen de old block, get me?

LONG--Did yer old man follow the sea?

YANK--Naw. Worked along shore. I runned away when me old lady croaked wit de tremens. I helped at truckin' and in de market. Den I shipped in de stokehole. Sure. Dat belongs. De rest was nothin'. [_Looking around him._] I ain't never seen dis before. De Brooklyn waterfront, dat was where I was dragged up. [_Taking a deep breath._] Dis ain't so bad at dat, huh?

LONG--Not bad? Well, we pays for it wiv our bloody sweat, if yer wants to know!

YANK--[_With sudden angry disgust._] 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--Wait and yer'll bloody well see--

YANK--I don't wait for noone. I keep on de move. Say, what yuh drag me up here for, anyway? Tryin' to kid me, yuh simp, yuh?

LONG--Yer wants to get back at her, don't yer? That's what yer been saying' every bloomin' 'our since she hinsulted yer.

YANK--[_Vehemently._] 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._] De lousey tart! She tinks she kin get away wit moider--but not wit me! I'll fix her! I'll tink of a way!

LONG--[_As disgusted as he dares to be._] 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--[_Spitting on his hands--belligerently._] De more de merrier when I gits started. Bring on de gang!

LONG--Yer'll see 'em in arf a mo', when that church lets out. [_He turns and sees the window display in the two stores for the first time._] Blimey! Look at that, will yer? [_They both walk back and stand looking in the jewelers. Long flies into a fury._] Just look at this 'ere bloomin' mess! Just look at it! Look at the bleedin' prices on 'em--more'n our 'old bloody stokehole makes in ten voyages sweatin' in 'ell! And they--her and her bloody clarss--buys 'em for toys to dangle on 'em! One of these 'ere would buy scoff for a starvin' family for a year!

YANK--Aw, cut de sob stuff! T' hell wit de starvin' family! Yuh'll be passin' de hat to me next. [_With naive admiration._] Say, dem tings is pretty, huh? Bet yuh dey'd hock for a piece of change aw right. [_Then turning away, bored._] But, aw hell, what good are dey? Let her have 'em. Dey don't belong no more'n she does. [_With a gesture of sweeping the jewelers into oblivion._] All dat don't count, get me?

LONG--[_Who has moved to the furriers--indignantly._] And I s'pose this 'ere don't count neither--skins of poor, 'armless animals slaughtered so as 'er and 'ers can keep their bleedin' noses warm!

YANK--[_Who has been staring at something inside--with queer excitement._] Take a slant at dat! Give it de once-over! Monkey fur--two t'ousand bucks! [_Bewilderedly._] Is dat straight goods--monkey fur? What de hell--?

LONG--[_Bitterly._] It's straight enuf. [_With grim humor._] They wouldn't bloody well pay that for a 'airy ape's skin--no, nor for the 'ole livin' ape with all 'is 'ead, and body, and soul thrown in!

YANK--[_Clenching his fists, his face growing pale with rage as if the skin in the window were a personal insult._] Trowin' it up in my face! Christ! I'll fix her!

LONG--[_Excitedly._] Church is out. 'Ere they come, the bleedin' swine. [_After a glance at Yank's lowering face--uneasily._] Easy goes, Comrade. Keep yer bloomin' temper. Remember force defeats itself. It ain't our weapon. We must impress our demands through peaceful means--the votes of the on-marching proletarians of the bloody world!

YANK--[_With abysmal contempt._] Votes, hell! Votes is a joke, see. Votes for women! Let dem do it!

LONG--[_Still more uneasily._] Calm, now. Treat 'em wiv the proper contempt. Observe the bleedin' parasites but 'old yer 'orses.

YANK--[_Angrily._] 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._]

VOICES--Dear Doctor Caiaphas! He is so sincere! What was the sermon? I dozed off. About the radicals, my dear--and the false doctrines that are being preached. We must organize a hundred per cent American bazaar. And let everyone contribute one one-hundredth percent of their income tax. What an original idea! We can devote the proceeds to rehabilitating the veil of the temple. But that has been done so many times.

YANK--[_Glaring from one to the other of them--with an insulting snort of scorn._] Huh! Huh! [_Without seeming to see him, they make wide detours to avoid the spot where he stands in the middle of the sidewalk._]

LONG--[_Frightenedly._] Keep yer bloomin' mouth shut, I tells yer.

YANK--[_Viciously._] G'wan! Tell it to Sweeney! [_He swaggers away and deliberately lurches into a top-hatted gentleman, then glares at him pugnaciously._] Say, who d'yuh tink yuh're bumpin'? Tink yuh own de oith?

GENTLEMAN--[_Coldly and affectedly._] I beg your pardon. [_He has not looked at YANK and passes on without a glance, leaving him bewildered._]

LONG--[_Rushing up and grabbing YANK's arm._] 'Ere! Come away! This wasn't what I meant. Yer'll 'ave the bloody coppers down on us.

YANK--[_Savagely--giving him a push that sends him sprawling._] G'wan!

LONG--[_Picks himself up--hysterically._] I'll pop orf then. This ain't what I meant. And whatever 'appens, yer can't blame me. [_He slinks off left._]

YANK--T' hell wit youse! [_He approaches a lady--with a vicious grin and a smirking wink._] Hello, Kiddo. How's every little ting? Got anyting on for to-night? I know an old boiler down to de docks we kin crawl into. [_The lady stalks by without a look, without a change of pace. YANK turns to others--insultingly._] Holy smokes, what a mug! Go hide yuhself before de horses shy at yuh. Gee, pipe de heinie on dat one! Say, youse, yuh look like de stoin of a ferryboat. Paint and powder! All dolled up to kill! Yuh look like stiffs laid out for de boneyard! Aw, g'wan, de lot of youse! Yuh give me de eye-ache. Yuh don't belong, get me! Look at me, why don't youse dare? I belong, dat's me! [_Pointing to a skyscraper across the street which is in process of construction--with bravado._] 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 answer with mechanical affected politeness:_] I beg your pardon. [_Then at a cry from one of the women, they all scurry to the furrier's window._]

THE WOMAN--[_Ecstatically, with a gasp of delight._] Monkey fur! [_The whole crowd of men and women chorus after her in the same tone of affected delight._] Monkey fur!

YANK--[_With a jerk of his head back on his shoulders, as if he had received a punch full in the face--raging._] 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--[_Seeing a fight--with a roar of joy as he springs to his feet._] At last! Bus, huh? I'll bust yuh! [_He lets drive a terrific swing, his fist landing full on the fat gentleman's face. But the gentleman stands unmoved as if nothing had happened._]

GENTLEMAN--I beg your pardon. [_Then irritably._] You have made me lose my bus. [_He claps his hands and begins to scream:_] Officer! Officer! [_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._]

[_Curtain_]

## SCENE VI

SCENE--Night of the following day. A row of cells in the prison on Blackwells Island. The cells extend back diagonally from right front to left rear. They do not stop, but disappear in the dark background as if they ran on, numberless, into infinity. One electric bulb from the low ceiling of the narrow corridor sheds its light through the heavy steel bars of the cell at the extreme front and reveals part of the interior. YANK can be seen within, crouched on the edge of his cot in the attitude of Rodin's "The Thinker." His face is spotted with black and blue bruises. A blood-stained bandage is wrapped around his head.

YANK--[_Suddenly starting as if awakening from a dream, reaches out and shakes the bars--aloud to himself, wonderingly._] Steel. Dis is de Zoo, huh? [_A burst of hard, barking laughter comes from the unseen occupants of the cells, runs back down the tier, and abruptly ceases._]

VOICES--[_Mockingly._] The Zoo? That's a new name for this coop--a damn good name! Steel, eh? You said a mouthful. This is the old iron house. Who is that boob talkin'? He's the bloke they brung in out of his head. The bulls had beat him up fierce.

YANK--[_Dully._] I musta been dreamin'. I tought I was in a cage at de Zoo--but de apes don't talk, do dey?

VOICES--[_With mocking laughter._] You're in a cage aw right.

A coop!

A pen!

A sty!

A kennel! [_Hard laughter--a pause._]

Say, guy! Who are you? No, never mind lying. What are you?

Yes, tell us your sad story. What's your game?

What did they jug yuh for?

YANK--[_Dully._] I was a fireman--stokin' on de liners. [_Then with sudden rage, rattling his cell bars._] I'm a hairy ape, get me? And I'll bust youse all in de jaw if yuh don't lay off kiddin' me.

VOICES--Huh! You're a hard boiled duck ain't you!

When you spit, it bounces! [_Laughter._]

Aw, can it. He's a regular guy. Ain't you?

What did he say he was--a ape?

YANK--[_Defiantly._] Sure ting! Ain't dat what youse all are--apes? [_A silence. Then a furious rattling of bars from down the corridor._]

A VOICE--[_Thick with rage._] I'll show yuh who's a ape, yuh bum!

VOICES--Ssshh! Nix!

Can de noise!

Piano!

You'll have the guard down on us!

YANK--[_Scornfully._] De guard? Yuh mean de keeper, don't yuh? [_Angry exclamations from all the cells._]

VOICE--[_Placatingly._] Aw, don't pay no attention to him. He's off his nut from the beatin'-up he got. Say, you guy! We're waitin' to hear what they landed you for--or ain't yuh tellin'?

YANK--Sure, I'll tell youse. Sure! Why de hell not? On'y--youse won't get me. Nobody gets me but me, see? I started to tell de Judge and all he says was: "Toity days to tink it over." Tink it over! Christ, dat's all I been doin' for weeks! [_After a pause._] I was tryin' to git even wit someone, see?--someone dat done me doit.

VOICES--[_Cynically._] De old stuff, I bet. Your goil, huh?

Give yuh the double-cross, huh?

That's them every time!

Did yuh beat up de odder guy?

YANK--[_Disgustedly_] Aw, yuh're all wrong! Sure dere was a skoit in it--but not what youse mean, not dat old tripe. Dis was a new kind of skoit. She was dolled up all in white--in de stokehole. I tought she was a ghost. Sure. [_A pause._]

VOICES--[_Whispering._] Gee, he's still nutty.

Let him rave. It's fun listenin'.

YANK--[_Unheeding--groping in his thoughts._] Her hands--dey was skinny and white like dey wasn't real but painted on somep'n. Dere was a million miles from me to her--twenty-five knots a hour. She was like some dead ting de cat brung in. Sure, dat's what. She didn't belong. She belonged in de window of a toy store, or on de top of a garbage can, see! Sure! [_He breaks out angrily._] But would yuh believe it, she had de noive to do me doit. She lamped me like she was seein' somep'n broke loose from de menagerie. Christ, yuh'd oughter seen her eyes! [_He rattles the bars of his cell furiously._] But I'll get back at her yet, you watch! And if I can't find her I'll take it out on de gang she runs wit. I'm wise to where dey hangs out now. I'll show her who belongs! I'll show her who's in de move and who ain't. You watch my smoke!

VOICES--[_Serious and joking._] Dat's de talkin'!

Take her for all she's got!

What was this dame, anyway? Who was she, eh?

YANK--I dunno. First cabin stiff. Her old man's a millionaire, dey says--name of Douglas.

VOICES--Douglas? That's the president of the Steel Trust, I bet.

Sure. I seen his mug in de papers.

He's filthy with dough.

VOICE--Hey, feller, take a tip from me. If you want to get back at that dame, you better join the Wobblies. You'll get some action then.

YANK--Wobblies? What de hell's dat?

VOICE--Ain't you ever heard of the I. W. W.?

YANK--Naw. What is it?

VOICE--A gang of blokes--a tough gang. I been readin' about 'em to-day in the paper. The guard give me the Sunday Times. There's a long spiel about 'em. It's from a speech made in the Senate by a guy named Senator Queen. [_He is in the cell next to YANK's. There is a rustling of paper._] Wait'll I see if I got light enough and I'll read you. Listen. [_He reads:_] "There is a menace existing in this country to-day which threatens the vitals of our fair Republic--as foul a menace against the very life-blood of the American Eagle as was the foul conspiracy of Cataline against the eagles of ancient Rome!"

VOICE [_Disgustedly._] Aw hell! Tell him to salt de tail of dat eagle!

VOICE--[_Reading:_] "I refer to that devil's brew of rascals, jailbirds, murderers and cutthroats who libel all honest working men by calling themselves the Industrial Workers of the World; but in the light of their nefarious plots, I call them the Industrious WRECKERS of the World!"

YANK--[_With vengeful satisfaction._] Wreckers, dat's de right dope! Dat belongs! Me for dem!

VOICE--Ssshh! [_Reading._] "This fiendish organization is a foul ulcer on the fair body of our Democracy--"

VOICE--Democracy, hell! Give him the boid, fellers--the raspberry! [_They do._]

VOICE--Ssshh! [_Reading:_] "Like Cato I say to this senate, the I. W. W. must be destroyed! For they represent an ever-present dagger pointed at the heart of the greatest nation the world has ever known, where all men are born free and equal, with equal opportunities to all, where the Founding Fathers have guaranteed to each one happiness, where Truth, Honor, Liberty, Justice, and the Brotherhood of Man are a religion absorbed with one's mother's milk, taught at our father's knee, sealed, signed, and stamped upon in the glorious Constitution of these United States!" [_A perfect storm of hisses, catcalls, boos, and hard laughter._]

VOICES--[_Scornfully._] Hurrah for de Fort' of July!

Pass de hat!

Liberty!

Justice!

Honor!

Opportunity!

Brotherhood!

ALL--[_With abysmal scorn._] Aw, hell!

VOICE--Give that Queen Senator guy the bark! All togedder now--one--two--tree--[_A terrific chorus of barking and yapping._]

GUARD--[_From a distance._] Quiet there, youse--or I'll git the hose. [_The noise subsides._]

YANK--[_With growling rage._] I'd like to catch dat senator guy alone for a second. I'd loin him some trute!