Long Day's Journey Into Night

Thank heaven the fog is gone.

I... I do feel out of sorts this morning.

I wasn't able to get much sleep

with that awful foghorn going all night long.

Yes, it's like having a sick whale in the backyard.

- Kept me awake, too. - Did it?

You had a strange way of showing your restlessness.

You were snoring so hard, I couldn't tell which was the foghorn.

Ten foghorns couldn't disturb you. You haven't a nerve in you.

- You never had. - Nonsense.

You always exaggerate about my snoring.

I couldn't.

If you could only hear yourself once.

What's the joke, I wonder.

It's on me, I'll bet that much. It's always on the old man.

Yes, it's terrible the way we all pick on you, isn't it?

You're so abused.

Never mind.

No matter what the joke is, it's a relief to hear Edmund laugh.

He's been so down in the mouth lately.

Some joke of Jamie's, I'll wager.

He's forever making sneering fun at somebody, that one.

Now, don't start in on poor Jamie, dear.

He'll turn out all right in the end. You wait and see.

He'd better start soon, then. He's nearly 34.

Good heavens!

Are they going to stay in the dining room all day?

Jamie! Edmund! Come out on the porch.

Give cathleen a chance to clear the table.

You would make excuses for him no matter what he did.

I've been teasing your father about his snoring.

I'll leave it to the boys, James. They must have heard you.

No, not you, Jamie. I could hear you down the hall.

Almost as bad as your father. You're like him.

As soon as your head touches the pillow, you're off,

and 10 foghorns couldn't wake you.

Why are you staring, Jamie?

Is my hair coming down or something?

It's hard for me to do it up properly now.

My eyes are getting so bad, and I can never find my glasses.

No, your hair's all right, mama. I was just thinking how well you look.

Just as I was telling her, Jamie.

She's so fat and sassy, there'll soon be no holding her.

Yes, you certainly look grand, mama.

And I'll back you up about papa's snoring.

Gosh, what a racket.

I heard him, too. "The moor, I know his trumpet."

If it takes my snoring to make you remember Shakespeare

instead of the dope sheet on the ponies,

- I hope I keep on with it. - James, you mustn't be so touchy.

Yes, for Pete's sake, papa, the first thing after breakfast.

Give it a rest, can't you?

Your father wasn't finding fault with you.

You don't have to always take Jamie's part.

You'd think you were the one 10 years older.

- Let's forget it. - That's right.

Forget everything and face nothing. It's a convenient philosophy in life.

- If you've no other ambitions, the... - James, be quiet.

What were you two grinning about like cheshire cats

when you came out? What was the joke?

Yes, let us in on it, lad.

You remember, papa, the ice pond on harker's estate

is right next to the farm,

and you remember shaughnessy keeps pigs?

Well, it seems there's a break in the fence,

and the pigs have been bathing in the millionaire's ice pond.

Good heaven!

"The poor pigs," shaughnessy yelled, "had caught their death of cold.

"Many of them were dyin' of pneumonia,

"and several others had been taken down with cholera

"from drinkin' the poisoned water."

He told harker he was hiring a lawyer to sue him for damages,

and then he wound up by saying,

he had to put up with potato bugs and ticks

and poison Ivy and snakes and skunks on his farm.

But he was an honest man who had to draw the line somewhere,

and he'd be damned if he'd stand for a standard oil thief trespassin'.

So would harker kindly remove his dirty feet from the premises

before he sicced the dog on him? And harker did.

Heavens! What a terrible tongue that man has.

That damned old scoundrel. My god, you can't beat him.

That dirty blackguard! He'll get me into serious trouble yet.

I hope you've told him I'll be mad as hell.

I told him you'd be tickled to death

over the great Irish victory, and so you are.

- Stop faking, papa. - Well, I'm not tickled to death.

You are, too, James. You're simply delighted.

What are you laughing at? There's nothing funny.

A fine son you are to help that blackguard get me into a lawsuit.

Now, James, don't lose your temper.

Yes, I suppose you're regretting you weren't there

to prompt shaughnessy with a few nastier insults.

You've a fine talent for that, if for nothing else.

James! There's no reason to scold Jamie.

For god's sake, papa!

If you're gonna start that stuff, I'll beat it.

God, papa! I should think you'd get sick of hearing yourself.

You mustn't mind Edmund, James.

Remember, he isn't well.

A summer cold makes anyone irritable.

It's not just a cold he's got.

The kid is damn sick.

Why do you say that?

It is just a cold. Anyone can tell that. You always imagine things.

All Jamie meant was he might have a touch of something else,

- which makes his cold worse. - Sure, mama. That's all I meant.

Yes, Dr. Hardy thinks it might be a bit of malaria! Fever

he caught when he was in the tropics.

Dr. Hardy!

I wouldn't believe a thing he said if he swore it on a stack of bibles.

I know what doctors are... They're all alike.

Anything... they don't care what... To keep you coming to them.

What is it? What are you looking at?

Is my hair coming down or something?

There's nothing wrong with your hair.

The fatter and healthier you get the vainer you become.

You'll soon spend half the day primping before the mirror.

My eyes are so bad now.

I really should have new glasses.

Your eyes are beautiful, and well ya know it!

James, you mustn't be so silly!

And right in front of Jamie!

He's onto you now, too.

He knows all this fuss about eyes and hair

is only fishing for compliments. Eh, Jamie?

Yes. You can't kid us, mama.

Get along with both of you.

But I... I did truly have...

Have beautiful hair once. Didn't I, James?

The most beautiful in the world.

It... it was a rare shade of reddish-brown,

and so long it came down below my knees.

Well, you ought to remember it, too, Jamie.

It wasn't until after Edmund was born that I had a single gray hair.

And that made it prettier than ever.

Will you listen to your father, Jamie?

After 35 years of marriage.

He isn't a great actor for nothing, is he?

What's come over you, James?

Are you pouring coals of fire on my head for teasing you about your snoring?

Well, then I take it all back. It must've been only the foghorn I heard.

Well, I can't stay here any longer, even to hear compliments.

I have to see the cook about dinner and the day's marketing.

That Bridget is so lazy and so sly,

she begins telling me about her relatives,

so I can't get a word in edge-ways to scold her.

Well, I may as well get it over with.

Don't make Edmund work on the grounds with you, James, remember.

Not that he isn't strong enough, but he'd perspire,

and he might catch more cold.

You're a fine lunkhead! Haven't you any sense?

Don't you know the one thing to avoid is saying anything

that would get her more upset over Edmund?

All right. Have it your way.

I still think it's the wrong idea to let mama go on kidding herself.

It will only make the shock worse when she has to face it.

Anyway, you can see she's deliberately fooling herself

with that summer cold talk.

She knows better.

Knows? Nobody knows yet.

Well, I do.

I was with Edmund when he went to see doc Hardy on Monday.

I heard him pull that "touch of malaria" stuff.

He was stalling.

That isn't what he thinks anymore.

Well, you know it as well as I do.

You talked to him when you went uptown yesterday, didn't you?

He can't say anything for sure yet.

He's to phone me today before Edmund goes to him.

He thinks it's consumption, doesn't he, papa?

He said it might be.

That poor kid.

Goddamn it.

It might never have happened if you'd sent him to a real doctor

when he first got sick.

What's the matter with Hardy? He's always been our doctor up here.

Hardy only charges a dollar.

That's what makes you think he's a fine doctor.

You mean I can't afford one of the fine society doctors

who prey on the rich summer people?

Can't afford? You're one of the biggest property owners around here.

That doesn't mean I'm rich.

If Edmund was a lousy acre of land you wanted,

the sky would be the limit.

That's a lie!

And your sneers against Dr. Hardy are lies, too.

I reckon I'm a fool to argue. You can't change the leopard's spots.

No, you can't. You taught me that lesson only too well.

I've lost all hope you'll ever change yours.

You dare tell me what I can afford?

You've never known the value of a dollar in your life,

and you never will.

At the end of each season you're penniless.

You've thrown your salary away every week on whores and whiskey.

My salary? God!

It's more than you're worth.

And you couldn't get that if it wasn't for me.

If you weren't my son,

there's not a manager in the business would give you a part,

your reputation stinks so.