All language subtitles for -LDJIN

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, like having a sick
whale in the backyard.

Kept me awake too.

Did it? You have 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 of somebody, that one.

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

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

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

Good heavens!

Are they gonna stay in the dinning
room all day? Jamie! Edmund!

Come out on the porch, give Cathleen

a chance to clear the table.

You'd make excuses for
him no matter what he did.

I've been teasing your
father about his snoring.

I'll... I'll leave it to the boys
James, they must've heard you.

Though 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 ten 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
out properly now. My eyes

are getting so bad and I
can never find my glasses

No. Your hair's alright, Mama. I was

just thinking how well you look.

Just as I was telling
her, Jamie. She's so fat

and sassy there will
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'll 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.

Let's forget it.

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

That's right. Forget
everything and face nothing.

It's a convenient philosophy in life
if you've no other ambitions than...

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 heavens!

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

Many of them were dying of
pneumonia, and several others had

been taken down with cholera
from drinking the poisoned water.

He told Harker he was hiring a
lawyer to sue him for damages.

And then he wound up by saying
that 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 trespassing.

So would Harker kindly
remove his dirty feet from the

premises before he sicked the
dog on him. And Harker did!

Heavens! What a terrible
tongue that man has.

The damned old scoundrel.
By God you can't beat him.

The dirty blaggard he'll get
me into serious trouble yet.

I hope you told him I'd 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 denying it.

Well, what are you laughing at?
There's nothing funny! A fine

son you are to help that
blaggard get me into a lawsuit.

Now, James! Don't lose your temper.

Yes, I suppose your 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 is
he may have a touch of

something else which
makes his cold worse.

Sure, Mama. That's all I meant.

Dr. Hardy thinks it
might be a bit of malarial

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...? What are you looking at? Is

my hair coming down? or... something?

There's nothing wrong with your hair.

The fatter and healthier you
are, the vainer you became.

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 you 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 talk
about eyes and hair

is only fishing for
compliments. Ey, 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?

Most beautiful in the world

It.. it was a rare
shade of... of reddish

brown and so long it
came down below my knees

You ought to remember it too, Jamie.

It wasn't until after Edmund was
born that I had a single grey 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
diner and the day's marketing.

That Bridgette is so lazy and so
sly she begins telling me about

her relatives so I can't get a
word in edgeways 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 any more.

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!

Goddamnit!

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!

If 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've 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!

More than you're worth. 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 that would give you a part.

Your reputation stinks you. As it
is I have to humble my pride and beg

for you, say you've turned over a
new leaf although I know it's a lie.

I never wanted to be an actor.

- You forced me on the stage.
- That's a lie! You left it to me

to get you a job and I've no
influence except in the theater.

Forced you?! You never wanted to do
anything except loaf in bar rooms.

After all the money I wasted
on your education... and all you

did was get fired and disgraced
from every college you went.

Well, for God's sake don't
drag up that ancient history!

It's not ancient history that you have
to come back every summer to live on me.

Well, I earn my board and
lodging working on the grounds.

It saves you hiring a man.

You have to be driven
even to do that much.

I wouldn't give a damn if you ever

displayed the slightest
sign of gratitude.

The only thanks is to have you sneer
at me for a dirty miser, sneer at

my profession, sneer at every damned
thing in the world�except yourself.

That's not true, Papa. You can't hear

me talking to myself, that's all.

�Ingratitude, the
vilest weed that grows�!

God! I could see that line coming!

God, how many thousand times�!

All right, Papa. I'm a bum.

You're young yet. You
could still make your mark.

You had the talent to become a fine
actor! You have it still. You're my son...!

Let's forget me. I'm not interested
in the subject and neither are you.

What started us on this? Oh, Doc Hardy!

When is he going to
call you up about Edmund?

Around lunch time.

The less you say about Edmund's
sickness, the better for

your conscience! You're
more responsible than anyone!

That's a lie! I won't
stand for that, Papa!

It's the truth!

He grew up admiring you as a hero!

If you ever gave him
advice except in the

ways of rottenness,
I've never heard of it!

You made him old before his time, pumping
him full of what you consider worldly wisdom,

when he was too young to see that your mind
was so poisoned by your own failure in life,

you wanted to believe every
man was a knave with his soul

for sale, and every woman
who wasn't a whore was a fool!

All right. All right. I did
put him wise to a few things,

but not until after I'd seen he'd
started to raise hell, and would

only laugh at me if I pulled that
good advice, older brother stuff.

All I did was make a pal
of him and be absolutely

frank so he'd learn
from my mistakes that

Well, that if you can't be good
you can at least be careful.

That's a rotten accusation, Papa.

You know how much that kid means to
me, and how close we've always been

not like the usual brothers!
I'd do anything for him.

I know you may have thought
it was for the best. I

didn't say you did it
deliberately to harm him.

Besides it's damned rot!
I'd like to see anyone

influence Edmund any
more than he wants to be.

What had I to do with all the crazy
stunts he's pulled in the last few

years working his way all over the
map as a sailor and all that stuff.

No, thanks! I'll stick
to Broadway, and a room

with a bath, and bars
that served bonded Bourbon.

You and Broadway! It's
made you what you are!

Whatever Edmund's done, he's had
the guts to go off on his own,

where he couldn't come whining
to me the minute he was broke.

He's always come home broke
finally, hasn't he? And

what's his going away
get him? Look at him now!

God! That's a lousy thing
to say. I didn't mean that.

He's been doing well on the paper. You
used to talk about becoming a newspaper

man but you were never willing to
start at the bottom, you expected...

Oh for God's sake, Papa!
Can't you lay off me?

Damnable luck, Edmund
should be sick right now,

it couldn't have come
at a worse time for him.

Or for your mother.

It's damnable she should
have this to upset her

just when she needs peace
and freedom from worry.

She's been so well in the two
months since she came home.

It's been heaven to me.

This home's been a real home again.

- But I needn't tell you, Jamie.
- No. I felt the same way, Papa.

Yes. She's been a different woman
entirely from the other times.

She's control of her nerves, or
she had until Edmund got sick.

Now you can feel her growing
tense and frightened underneath.

I wish to God we could
keep the truth from her

but we can't if he's to
be sent to a sanatorium.

What makes it worse is her
father died of consumption.

She worshipped him.
She's never forgotten it.

Yes it'll be hard for her.

But she can do it!
She's the willpower now.

We must help her, Jamie.
In every way we can.

Of course, Papa.

Outside of nerves she seems
perfectly alright this morning.

Yes, never better, she's
full of fun and mischief.

Why do you say 'seems'?

Why shouldn't she be alright?
What the hell do you mean?

Don't start jumping down my throat.

God! Papa.

This ought to be one
thing we can talk over,

frankly, without a
battle. I'm sorry, Jamie.

But go on and tell me.

There's nothing to
tell. I was all wrong.

It's just that... last night...

Well, you know how it is, Papa.

I can't forget the past.

I can't help being suspicious
anymore than you can.

That's the hell of it. And
it makes it hell for Mama.

- She watches us watching her.
- I know.

Well, what was it?

Can't you speak up?

Around 3 o'clock this
morning, I woke up and I

heard Mama moving
around in the spare room.

Then she went to the bathroom. Now,
I pretended to be asleep and she

stopped outside in the hall to listen
as if she wanted to make sure I was.

For God's sake! Is that all?

She told me herself the foghorn kept her
awake all last night. And every night since

Edmund's been sick she's been up and
down going to his room to see how he was.

Yes, that's right. She did
stop to listen outside his room.

But it was her being in the
spare room that scared me.

Papa, I can't help remembering
that when she starts

sleeping alone in there
it's always been a sign.

But it isn't this time. It's
easily explained. Where else

could she go last night to
get away from my snoring?

How you can live with a
mind that sees nothing but

the worse motives behind
everything is beyond me.

Don't pull that! I just
said I was all wrong.

I suppose I'm as glad
of that as you are.

Yes. Yes. I'm sure you are, Jamie.

It's been like a curse she can't
escape if worry over Edmund.

It was her long sickness after bringing
him into the world that she first..

She didn't have anything to do with it.

I'm not blaming her.

Well, who are you blaming?
Edmund? For being born?

- You damn fool, no one was to blame.
- That bastard of a doctor was.

From what Mama said he was
another cheap quack like Hardy.

You wouldn't pay for
a first class doctor.

You liar!

So I'm to blame, am I?
That's what you're driving at.

You evil minded loafer.

- What were you two arguing about?
- Same old stuff.

I heard you saying
something about a doctor and

your father accusing
you of being evil minded.

Oh That? Well, I was just
saying again that Doc Hardy

isn't my idea of the
world's greatest physician.

No. No. I wouldn't say he was either.

That Bridgette! I... I thought
I'd never get away. She told me

all about her second cousin on
the police force in St. Louis.

Well, if you're going to work
on the hedge, why don't you go?

I... I mean... take advantage of the

sunshine before the fog comes back.

Because I... I know it will.

That is... The rheumatism
in my hands knows it.

It's a better weather
prophet than you are, James.

How ugly they are. Who would ever
believe they were once beautiful.

Now, now, Mary... None
of that foolishness.

They're the sweetest hands in the world.

Come on, Jamie!

The way to start work is
to start work. The hot sun

will sweat some of that
booze fat off your middle.

We're all so proud of
you, Mama, so darn happy!

But you've still got to be careful.

I mean you mustn't worry
so much about Edmund.

He'll be all right.

Of course he'll be all right

And I.. I don't know what you
mean. Warning me to be careful...

All right, Mama. I'm sorry I spoke.

Here you are! I was just
going upstairs to look for you.

I didn't want to mix up in any
arguments, I feel too rotten.

I'm sure you don't feel half as bad

as you make out, you're such a baby.

You like to get us worried so we'll
make a fuss over you... No, no. I'm

only teasing you dear, I know how
miserably uncomfortable you must be.

But you feel better today,
don't you? All the same you...

you've grown much too
thin. Come on, sit down.

All you need is your mother
to nurse you. Because you

are, you're still the baby
of the family to me you know?

Never mind me, you
take care of yourself.

That's all that counts.
- But I am.

Heavens! Don't you
see how fat I've grown?

I'll have to have all
my dresses let out.

They started clipping the hedge.

Poor Jamie. How he
hates working in front

where everyone passing can see him.

Not that I want anything
to do with them. I've

always hated this place
and everyone in it.

But your father liked it

and insisted on building this house and

I've had to come here every summer.

It was wrong from the start. Everything

was done in the cheapest possible way.

Your father would never spend
the money to make it right.

It's just as well we
haven't any friends. I'd

be ashamed to have
them step in the door.

But... yo... your father has
never wanted family friends.

All he likes is to hobnob with
men, in bar-rooms or at the club.

You and Jamie are the same
way. But you're not to blame.

I know it's useless to talk but...

sometimes I... I feel so lonely.

You've got to be fair, Mama.

It may have been all his fault
in the beginning but you know that

latter on, even if he'd wanted to,
we couldn't have had people here.

Don't I... I can't bear
having you remind...

Don't take it that way please,
Mama. I'm trying to help.

Because it's bad for you
to forget, the right way

is to remember then you'll
always be on your guard.

I... I don't understand why you
should suddenly say such things.

What put it in your mind this morning?

Nothing, it just... well
I... b... because I feel

rotten and blue I suppose.
- Tell me the truth.

Why you so... suspicious
all of a sudden?

I'm not.

Yes you are, I feel it.

Your father and Jamie
too, particularly...

Now don't start imagining things, Mama.

It makes it so much harder living in
this atmosphere of constant suspicion,

knowing everyone is spying on me, that
none of you believe in me or trust me.

- That's crazy, Mama. We do trust you.
- If there was only some place...

...I could go to get away for a day
or even an afternoon, some woman friend

I could talk to, not about anything serious.
Simply laugh and gossip and forget for a while.

Someone besides the servants,
that stupid Cathleen.

Stop it, Mama. You're getting
yourself worked up over nothing.

Your father goes out, he meets his friends
in bar-rooms or at the club. You and

Jamie have the boys, you know, you go
out but I'm alone I've always been alone.

Now you know that's a fib, one of us
always stays around to keep you company.

Because you're afraid to trust me alone.

I insist you tell me why you...
act so differently this morning.

Why you felt you had to remind me.

It's stupid, it's just because I wasn't

asleep when you came
into my room last night.

You didn't go back to your
and Papa's room you went

into the spare room for
the rest of the night.

Because your father's snoring was
driving me crazy. For heavens sake!

Haven't I often used the
spare room as my bedroom?

But I...

I see what you thought, that was...
- I didn't think that...

So... you were... you were pretending

to be asleep, in order to spy on me.

No, I did it because
I knew if you found out

I was feverish and couldn't
sleep you'd be upset.

Jamie was pretending to
be asleep too, I'm sure

and I suppose your father...
- Stop it, Mama.

Oh, Edmund! I can't bear
it when even you... It

would serve all of you
right if it was true.

Mama, don't say that!
That's the way you...

Stop suspecting me!

Please dear. You hurt me. I couldn't

sleep because I was thinking about you.

Th-that's the real reason. I've been

so worried ever since you got sick.

That's foolishness, you
know it's just a bad cold.

Yes. Yes, of course, I know that.

But listen, Mama. I want
you to promise me that

even if it should turn
out to be something worse.

You know I'll soon be
all right again anyway.

No! No!

And you won't worry yourself sick about it
and you'll keep on taking care of yourself.

No! No! I won't listen
when you're so silly.

There's absolutely no reason to talk
as if you expected something dreadful.

Of course I promise you. I give
you my sacred word of honor.

But I suppose you're remembering... I've

promised before. I've no word of honor

- No.
- I'm not blaming you dear. How can you help it?

How can any of us forget?

That's what makes it so... hard for all

of us we can't...
forget. . Stop it, Mama!

Alright dear. I didn't mean
to be so gloomy. Don't mind me.

Here, let me feel your head.

Well! It's nice and cool, you
certainly haven't any fever now.

Forget me, it's you.

But I... I'm quite alright dear
except I... I naturally feel...

tired and nervous this
morning after such a bad night

I... I really... ought
to go upstairs... and

lie down until lunch time and take a nap

What are you gonna do? Read? Here?

It's be much better for you if you...
went out in the... fresh air, sunshine.

Don't get overheated remember,
be sure and wear a hat.

Or are you afraid to trust me alone?

Can't you stop talking like that?
I think you ought to take a nap.

I'll go out and help
Jamie bear up. I love

to lie in the shade and watch him work.

It'll be lunch time
soon, will I call your

father and Mr. Jamie or will you?
- You do it.

Oh and you'd better call my mother too.

What for? She's always on
time without any calling.

God bless her she has some
consideration for the help.

She's taking a nap.

She wasn't asleep when I finished
my work upstairs a while back.

She was lying down in the spare
room with her eyes wide open.

She had a terrible headache, she said.

Oh well then... just call my father.

No wonder my feet kill me each night.

Mr. Tyrone! Mr. Jamie! It's time!

Sneaking one? Cut out the bluff kid,

you're a rottener actor than I am.

Grabbing while the going was good.

Why don't you sneak one
while you got a chance?

Yeah I was thinking
of that little thing.

Hey! The old man was out there
talking to old Captain Turner.

Yup, he's still at it.

You don't think that�ll fool him, do ya?

Well... maybe not...
but he can't prove it.

God! I hope he doesn't forget lunch

listening to himself talk. I'm hungry.

That's what I hate working
out down at the front. He

puts on an act for every
damn fool that comes along.

You're in luck to be hungry. The way I

feel I don't care if I ever eat again.

Look kid... you know I never
lectured you but Doc Hardy

was right when he told
you to cut out the red eye.

Well, I'm going to after the--
after he hands me the bad news

this afternoon, a few before
then won't make any difference.

Jamie... what do you think it is?

How the hell would I know? I'm no doc.

Where's Mama?

Upstairs.

When did she go up?

Oh about the time you started
working on the hedge I guess.

She said she was going to take a nap.

- You didn't tell me.
- Why should I? What about it?

She was tired out, she didn't
get much sleep last night.

Yeah I know she didn't.

Damn foghorn kept me awake too.

She's... been upstairs
alone all morning...

you haven't seen her?

No, I was reading. I wanted
to give her a chance to sleep.

Is she coming down to lunch?
- Of course.

No! No "Of course" about it.

She might not want
any lunch or she might

start having her meals alone upstairs.

- Cut out the-- - Well,
it's happened hasn't it?

You're all wrong to suspect anything.

Cathleen saw her not
long ago. Mama didn't

tell her she wouldn't be down for lunch.

Then she wasn't taking a nap.

No, not right then but she
was lying down, Cathleen said.

- In the spare room?
- Yes! For Pete's sake what of it?

You damn fool! Why did you leave her
alone so long? Why didn't you stick around?

Because she accused me and you and Papa of
spying on her all the time and not trusting her.

She made me feel ashamed. I know
how rotten it must be for her.

And she promised on her
sacred word of honor.

Well, you ought to know
that doesn't mean...

It does this time.

That's what we though the other times.

Aw, look kid, I know you
think I'm a cynical bastard but

remember I've seen more
of this game than you have.

You never knew what was
really wrong until you

were in prep school. Papa
and I kept it from you.

I was wise ten years or more
before we had to tell you.

I know this game backward and
I've been thinking all morning of

the way she acted last night
when she thought we were asleep.

I haven't been able to think
of anything else and now you

tell me she got you to leave
her alone upstairs all morning.

Alright kid. Don't
start a battle with me.

I hope as much as you do I'm crazy.

You know I've been
happy as hell because I'd

really begun to believe
that this time...

She's coming downstairs
you win on that one

I guess I was a damn suspicious louse.

Damn it I wish I'd grabbed another drink

You mustn't cough like that
it's bad for your throat. You

don't want to get a sore throat
on top of your cold do you?

But I seem always to be picking on
you telling you "don't do this", "don't

do that" forgive me dear it's just
that I want to take care of you.

Oh I know that. What about
you, do you feel rested?

Ever so much better. I've been lying
down ever since you went out it's

what I needed after such a restless
night, I don't feel nervous now.

- That's fine.
- Good heavens! How down in the

mouth you look, Jamie.
What's the matter now?

Nothing.

I'd forgotten, you've been
working on the front hedge that

always account for your sinking
into the dumps, doesn't it?

If you wanna think so, Mama.

Well, that's the effect
it always has, isn't it?

What a big baby you
are. Isn't he, Edmund?

He's certainly a fool to
care what anyone thinks. Yes.

The only way is to
make yourself not care.

Where's your father?

I heard Cathleen call him.

She's down there now, interrupting
the famous beautiful voice.

She should have more respect.

It's you who should have more respect.

You, who thanks to him have never
had to work hard in your life.

Remember, your father
is getting old, Jamie.

You really... ought to
show more consideration.

I'm hungry, I wish that
old man would get a move on.

It's a rotten trick
the way he keeps meals

waiting and then beefs
because they're spoiled.

Very trying, Jamie. You
don't know how trying, you

don't have to keep up the
house with summer servants

who don't care because... because they
know it isn't a permanent position.

Your father won't even pay the
wages the best summer help ask

so every year I have stupid
lazy greenhorns to deal with.

But you've heard me say
this a thousand times.

What makes you ramble
on like that, Mama?

I don't know, nothing
in particular dear.

It's foolish of me.

Lunch is ready ma'am. I
went down to Mr. Tyrone like

you ordered and he said
he'd come right away but...

Alright Cathleen. Tell
Bridget I'm sorry but she'll

have to wait a few minutes
until Mr. Tyrone is here.

Yes ma'am.

Look damn it why don't we go
in without him, he told us to.

He doesn't mean it.

Don't you know your father
yet? He'd be so terribly hurt.

I'll... I'll go make him get a move on.

Why do you stare like that?

- You know.
- I don't know.

For God's sake, Mama! You think
you can fool me? I'm not blind.

I don't know what you're talking about.

No?

Take a look at your eyes, Mama.

I got Papa moving, he'll...
he'll be here any minute.

What's the matter.

- Your brother...
- What happened, Mama?

Your brother ought to
be ashamed of himself

he's been insinuating...
I don't know what.

- God damn you!
- Stop it at once! Do it!

He's a liar!

- It's a lie, isn't it, Mama?
- What's a lie?

Edmund... don't.

Here comes your father up the
steps, I must... warn Bridget.

Well?

Well... what?

You're a liar.

Sorry I'm late. Captain Turner
stopped to talk, once he starts gabbing

you can't get away from him.
- You mean once he starts listening.

It's all right, the level
of the bottle hasn't changed.

I wasn't noticing that.

As if it proved anything with you about.

I'm on to your tricks.

Did I hear you say
"let's all have a drink"?

Jamie's welcome after his
hard morning's work but I won't

invite you, Doctor Harding...
- To hell with Doc Hardy.

One isn't going to kill me.

I feel all in, Papa.

Well, come along then,
it's before a meal.

I've always found that good
whiskey, taken in moderation, as

an appetizer, is the best of
tonics. I said "in moderation".

It'd be a waste of breath
mentioning moderation to you.

Well... here's to health and happiness.

That's a joke!

What is?

Nothing. Here's to health.

Well, what's the matter
here? There's gloom

in the air you could cut with a knife.

You got the drink you
were after didn't you? Why

are you wearing that
gloomy look on your mug?

You won't be singing
a song yourself soon.

Shut up, Jamie!

I thought lunch was ready.
I'm hungry as a hunter.

Where's your mother?

Here I am. I've had
to calm down Bridget.

She's in a tantrum over you being
late again and I don't blame her.

If your lunch is dried up
from waiting in the oven she

said you could like it or
leave it for all she cared

I'm so sick and tired of pretending
this is a home! You won't help me.

You won't put yourself out the least bit

You don't know how to act in a
home, you don't even want one.

You've never have wanted
one since we were married.

You should have remained a bachelor
and lived in second rate hotels.

Entertained your
friends in bar-rooms and

nothing ever would've happened...
- Mama!

Stop talking.

Why don't we go in to lunch?

Yes. Yes. It is inconsiderate
of me to dig up the past

when I know your father
and Jamie must be hungry.

I do hope you have an appetite dear.

You really must eat more...

Why is that glass there?
Did you have a drink?

How can you be such a fool?

You're to blame, James!
How could you let him?

Do you want to kill him?!

Don't you remember my father?

He wouldn't stop after he was
stricken, he said doctors were

fools, he thought like you
that whiskey is a good tonic...

But of course... there...
there... there's no comparison...

...at all, is there?

I... I don't know why I... I...

Forgive me for... scolding you, James.

One... one small drink
won't hurt, Edmund.

Might be good for him. If
it gives him an appetite.

For God's sake let's eat.

- Come on kid, let's put on the feed bag.
- Yes

You go in with your mother
lads. I'll join you in a second.

Why... why do you...
look at me like that?

Please stop staring, James. One
would think you're accusing me.

James...

...you don't understand...

I understand that I've been a
god damned fool to believe in you.

I don't know what you
mean by "believing" in me,

all I felt was distrust
and spying and suspicion.

Why are you having
another drink? You never

have more than one drink before lunch.

Well... I know what to
expect, you'll be drunk tonight

and it won't be the first time, will it?

Or the thousandth.

James... please... please...

...you don't understand...
I've been so worried...

so worried about Edmund. I'm so afraid.

I don't want to listen
to your excuses, Mary.

Excuses?

You... you mean... you
couldn't believe that of me.

You mustn't believe that, James. No.

Shall... shall we not
go in to lunch, dear?

I don't want anything, but
I know you must be hungry.

James...

I tried... so hard.

I tried so hard!

- Please believe me.
- Yes I suppose you did, Mary.

But for the love of God why couldn't

you have the strength to keep on?

I... I don't know what
you're talking about.

Have the strength to keep on what?

Never mind.

It's no use now.

It's unreasonable to expect
Bridget and Cathleen to act as

if this were home, they know
it isn't as well as we know it.

Never has been and never will be.

No it never can be now but
it was once before you...

Before I what?

No... no dear, whatever
you say, it isn't true.

It was never a home. You've always
preferred a club or a bar-room.

And for me it's... always been as lonely

a dirty room in a one night stand hotel.

I'm... I'm worried about you. Edmund.

Edmund. You... you
hardly touched anything.

It's alright for me not to
have an appetite, I've...

I've been growing too fat but...

...you must eat.

Pro... promise me you
will dear, for my sake.

- Yes, Mama.
- That's a good boy.

I'll answer. Maguire said he'd call.

Hello.

How are you doctor?

Well, the... you'll explain all about

it when you see him this afternoon.

Yes he... he'll be with you
without fail at 4 o'clock.

Yes.

Yes.

Goodbye. Goodbye doctor.

Well, that didn't
sound like glad tidings.

It was doctor hardy

He wants to... you to be sure
and see him at 4 this afternoon.

What did he say?

Not that I give a damn.

I wouldn't believe him if he
swore on a stack of bibles.

Don't pay attention to
a word he says, Edmund.

Mary!

We all know why you like him
James, because he's cheap.

Please don't try to tell me,
I know all about Doctor Hardy.

Heaven knows I ought to
after all these years.

He's an ignorant fool. Should be a law

to keep man like him from practicing.

He hasn't the slightest idea...
when you're in agony and half insane.

Sits and holds your hand and
delivers sermons on willpower.

He deliberately humiliates
you. He makes you beg and plead.

He treats you like a criminal.

He understands nothing!

And yet it was exactly the same type
of cheap quack who first gave you

the medicine and you never knew
what it was until it was too late.

I hate doctors!

For Christ's sake, Mama! Stop talking.

Yes, Mary, it's no time to...

You're... you're... quite
right dear, forgive me.

I... It's useless to be angry now.

I'm going upstairs... for a moment.

If you'll excuse me.

I have to fix my hair.

That is, if I can find my glasses.

- I'll be right down.
- Mary.

Yes dear, what is it?

- Nothing.
- You're welcome to come up

and watch me if you're so suspicious.

As if that could do any
good, you'd only postpone it.

I'm not your jailer,
this isn't a prison.

No, I know you can't
help thinking it's a home.

I'm sorry dear.

I don't mean to be bitter.

It... It's not your fault.

- Another shot in the arm.
- Cut out that kind of talk.

Yes, hold your foul tongue and your
rotten Broadway loafers lingo! Have

you no pity or decency? You ought
to be thrown out into the gutter

If I did it you know damn well
who would weep you and plead for

you and excuse you and complain
until I let you come back.

God! Don't I know that?

No pity?

I have all the pity in the world
for her because I understand what a

hard game to beat she is up against.
Which is more than you ever had

No, the cures are no damn
good except for a while. The

truth is there is no cure
and we've been saps to hope.

- They never come back.
- "They never come back"

Everything's in the bag,
it's all a frame up we're all

fall guys and suckers and
we can't beat the game.

- God, if I felt the way you do...
- I thought you did! Your poetry

isn't very cheery nor the stuff
you read and claim to admire.

Shut up both of you! There's little
choice between the philosophy you

learn from Broadway loafers and
the one Edmund got from his books.

They're both rotten to the core.
You both flaunted the faith you were

born and brought up in, the one
true faith of the catholic church

and your denial has brought
nothing but self-destruction.

That's the bunk, Papa.

We don't pretend at any rate.
I don't notice you've worn

any holes in the knees of
your pants going to mass.

It's true, I'm a bad
catholic in the observance.

God forgive me. But I believe.

And you're a liar, I may not
go to church but every night

and morning of my life I get
down on my knees and pray.

Did you pray for Mama?

I did, I've prayed to God
these many years for her.

But what's the good of talk?

Only, I wish she hadn't
led me into hope this time.

By God! I never will again.

That's a rotten thing to say, Papa.

Well, I'll hope, she's
only just started, it can't

have got a hold on her
yet, she can still stop.

You can't talk to her now, she'll
listen but she won't listen.

Yes, every day from now on
will be the same drifting

away from us until at
the end of each night...

Cut it out, Papa!

I'll go up and get dressed.

I'll make so much noise she can't
suspect I've come up to spy on her.

What did Doc Hardy say about the kid?

It's what you thought...
he's got consumption.

Damn it!

There's no possible doubt, he says.

Aw hell, he'll have
to go to a sanatorium.

Yes. The sooner the better, Hardy
says, for him and everyone around him.

He claims: in six months to a year,

Edmund will be cured,
if he obeys orders.

Who would have thought a child of mine?

Doesn't come from my side of the family.

Wasn't one of us who didn't
have lungs as strong as an ox!

Who gives a damn about that part of it?

Where does Hardy want to send him?

That's what I've to see him about.

Well, for God's sake pick out a
good place and not some cheap dump.

I'll send him wherever
Hardy thinks best.

Well, don't give Hardy
your old over the hills

to the poor house song
about taxes and mortgages

I'm no millionaire that can throw money
away. Why shouldn't I tell Hardy the truth?

Because he'll think you want
him to pick a cheap dump.

And because he'll know it isn't the truth,
especially if he hears afterwards you've seen McGuire

and let that flannel-mouth, gold-brick merchant
sting you with another piece of bum property!

Keep your nose out of my business!

This is Edmund's business!

What I'm afraid of is, with your Irish
bogtrotter idea that consumption is

fatal you'll figure it's a waste of
money to spend any more than you can help

- You liar!
- All right, prove I'm a liar!

That's what I want,
that's why I brought it up.

I have every hope Edmund will be cured.
And keep your dirty tongue off Ireland.

You're a fine one to sneer
with a map of it on your face.

Not after I wash my face.

Well... I've said all I
have to say, it's up to you.

What do you want me to do this afternoon

now that you're going uptown?

I've done all I can do on the
hedge until you cut more of it and

you don't want me to go ahead
with your clipping I know that.

No, you'd get it crooked.
Like you get everything else.

Well, I'd better go
uptown with Edmund then.

Bad news coming on top of what's

happened with Mama may hit him hard.

Yes, go with him, Jamie. Keep
up his spirits if you can.

If you can without making
it an excuse to get drunk.

What would I use for
money? The last I heard they

were still selling
booze not giving it away.

I'll get dressed.

You haven't... seen my...
glasses anywhere, have you, Jamie?

You haven't seen them, have you, James?

No my dear.

What's the matter with, Jamie?
Have you been nagging at him again?

You really sh... shouldn't treat
him with such contempt all the time.

He's not to blame, if
he'd been brought up in a

real home I'm sure it
would have been dif...

You're not much of a
weather prophet, James.

See how hazy it's getting.

I can hardly see the other shore.

Yes I spoke too soon we're in for
another night of fog I'm afraid.

Well... I won't mind it tonight.

No. I don't imagine you will... Mary.

I... I don't see Jamie

going down to the hedge.
Where... where did he go?

He's going with Edmund to the doctor's,
he went upstairs to change his clothes.

I have to do the same or I'll
be late for my appointment.

Please wait a little while.

At least until one of
the boys... comes down.

You... you'll all be...
leaving me so soon.

It's you who are leaving us, Mary.

Well, that... that's a
silly thing to say, James.

How could I leave?

There's nowhere I could
go. Who would I go to see?

- I have no friends.
- That's your own fault.

Surely there's something
that you could do this

afternoon that would
be good for you, Mary.

Take a drive in the
automobile, get away from

the house get a little
sun and fresh air.

I bought the automobile for
you. You know I don't care for

the damn things, I'd rather
walk any day or take the trolly.

I had it here waiting for you when
you came back from the sanatorium.

I thought it would give you
pleasure and distract your mind.

You used to ride in it every day,
you hardly use it at all lately.

Paid more money than I could afford.

There's the chauffeur,
I have to feed and board

and pay high wages whether
he drives you or not.

Waste!

Same old waste that will land me
in the poor house at my old age.

What good has it done
you? I might as well

have thrown the money out the window.

It was a waste of money, James.

You shouldn't have bought
a second hand automobile.

You were swindled again.
As you always are because

you insist on second hand
bargains in everything.

It's one of the best makes.
You're as bad as Jamie.

Suspecting everyone.

No. You mustn't be offended, James.

I wasn't offended when
you gave me the automobile.

I knew that was the way you had to do
everything. I was grateful and touched.

I knew that buying the car was
a... was a hard thing for you to do.

But it showed how much you love me...

in your way.

Especially... as you
couldn't really believe

it would do me any good.
- Mary, dear Mary.

For the love of God,
for the boys sake, for my

sake and for your own,
won't you stop? Now.

Stop what? What are you talking about?

James...

James we've loved each other, we always
will. Let's remember only that and not try

to understand what we cannot understand
or help things that cannot be helped.

The things... life has done to
us, we cannot excuse or explain.

You won't even try?

Try... try to go for a
drive? This afternoon dear?

Yes... Yes I... I will if
you wish it. Although... it...

it makes me feel lonelier...
than if I stayed here.

There... there's no one I
can invite to drive with me.

I never know where to tell Smythe to go

If there was only some friend's
house where I could... drop

in laugh and gossip over a
while. But of course there isn't.

Never has been.

At the convent, I had so many friends.

Naturally, after I married an actor,

well... you... you know how actors were
considered in those days and then of course...

right after we were married
there was the scandal of...

of that... woman who... had been
your mistress suing you. From

then on all my old friends either
pitied me or... cut me dead.

I hated the ones that cut me
dead much less than the pitiers.

Mary for God's sake don't
dig up what's long forgotten.

If you're that far gone in
the past already when it's only

the beginning of the afternoon
what will you be tonight.

Come to think of it...
I do have to drive uptown.

There's something I must
get at the drugstore.

Yes. Leave it to you to have some of the

stuff hidden and prescriptions for more.

Well, I hope you'll lay in a good stock
ahead so we'll never have another night

like the one when you screamed for it,
and ran out of the house in your nightdress

half crazy to try and
throw yourself off the dock.

I have to get... tooth powder...
and toilet soap... and cold cream.

You mustn't remember, you
mustn't humiliate me so!

Forgive me.

I'm sorry, Mary.

It doesn't matter, nothing
like that ever happened.

You must've dreamed it.

I... I was so... so healthy

before Edmund was born.

Do you remember, James?

There wasn't a nerve in my body.

Even travelling with you,
season after season and

bearing children in hotel
rooms, I still kept healthy.

But bearing Edmund
was... the last straw.

I was so sick afterwards.

And that ignorant quack
of a cheap hotel doctor

all he knew was I was in pain, it
was easy for him to stop the pain.

Mary, for God's sake forget the past.

Why how can I, the past is the present,

it's the future too, isn't it?

I blame only myself.
I swore after Eugene

died I would never have another baby.

I was to blame for his death.

If... If I hadn't left him with
my mother to join you on the road

because you wrote telling me
you missed me and were so lonely

Jamie would never have
been allowed when he

still had measles to
go into the baby's room.

I always believed
Jamie did it on purpose.

He was jealous of the
baby. He hated him.

I know Jamie was only seven
but he was never stupid.

He'd been warned it might kill the baby.

He knew. I've never been
able to forgive him for that.

Are you back to Eugene now? Can't
you let our dead baby rest in peace?

Above all... above all I
should never have let you

insist that I have another
baby to take Eugene's place.

I was afraid, all the time I carried Edmund.
I knew something terrible would happen. I

knew I'd proved by the way I left Eugene
that I wasn't worthy to have another baby.

And that God would punish me if I did.

I should never have born Edmund.

Mary be careful with your talk, if he heard
you he might think you never wanted him.

For God's sake try and be yourself,
you can do that much for him.

There you are, you
look spick-and-span.

I'm on my way up to change too.

Wait a minute, Papa. I hate
to bring up disagreeable

topic but there's the
matter of car fare.

I'm broke.

You'll always be broke until
you learn the value of...

...but you've been learning, lad. You

worked hard before you took ill.

You've done splendidly,
I... I'm proud of you.

"Thank you". How sharper than
a snake's tooth it is to...

"...have a thankless child", I know. Give
me a chance, Papa. I'm knocked speechless.

This isn't a dollar, it's a ten
spot. But why all of a sudden?

Did doc. Hardy say I was going to die?

That was a rotten crack.
I was just kidding, Papa.

- I'm very grateful, honest, Papa.
- You're welcome, lad.

I won't have it! Do you
hear? Such morbid nonsense.

Saying you're going to die. You
think you didn't want to live.

A boy of your age, with
everything before him.

It's just a pose you get out of
books. You're not really sick at all!

- Mary, hold your tongue!
- But James, it's absurd of him

to be so gloomy and to make
such a big to-do about nothing.

But never mind dear, I'm
on to you. You want to be

petted and spoiled and made
a fuss over, isn't that it?

You're still such a baby. But please,

don't carry it too far dear.

Don't say horrible things.

I know it's foolish to
take them seriously but

I can't help it. You've
got me so frightened!

I believe you ought to ask your mother

now what you said you were... going to.

My God! Look at the time.
I have to shake a leg.

How do you feel?

Your head is a little hot... but

that's just from going out in the sun.

You look ever so much better than you

did this morning. Come and sit down.

- Listen, Mama...
- No, no, don't talk. Sit down. Lean back.

And rest.

It's such a tiring trip uptown in the

dirty old trolley on
a hot day like this.

You'll be ever so much
better off here with me.

Listen, Mama...

You could telephone Hardy. Tell
him you don't feel well enough.

The old idiot, all he
knows about medicine is to

look solemn and preach willpower.
- Listen, Mama...

I want to ask you something...

You can still stop. You've only just

started, you've got the willpower

we'll all help you, I'll do anything.

Won't you, Mama?

Please don't talk about
things you don't understand.

All right I give up.
I knew it was no use.

Anyway I don't know what you're referring to
but I do know you should be the last one...

Right after I returned from the
sanatorium you began to be ill.

But after they had warned
me I must have peace at home

with nothing to upset me all
I've done is worry about you.

But... that's no excuse.

I'm only trying to
explain, it's not an excuse.

Promise me dear you won't
believe I made you an excuse.

What else can I believe?

Nothing. I don't blame you.

How can you believe me
when I can't believe myself?

I've become such a liar.

I never lied about
anything once upon a time.

Now I have to lie, especially to myself.

But how can you understand
when I can't understand myself?

I've never understood anything
about it, except. That one

day long ago I found I could
no longer call my soul my own.

But someday dear... I'll find it again.

Someday when you're all well.

And I see you healthy
and happy and successful.

And I don't have to feel guilty anymore.

Someday... when the blessed
virgin Mary forgives me.

And gives me back the
faith in her love and

pity I used to have in my convent days.

And I can pray to her again.

When she sees... no one can believe

in me, even for a moment, anymore...

then she will believe in me... and
with her help it will be so easy.

I will hear myself scream
with agony and yet at the same

time I will laugh because
I will be so sure of myself.

Well... but of course you
can't... believe that either can...

Now I... now I think of it

you might as well... go uptown.

I forgot. I'm taking a drive.

I have to go to the drugstore
and you'd hardly want

to go there with me would
you? You'd be so ashamed.

Mama, don't...

I suppose you'll divide that $10
your father gave you with, Jamie.

You always divide with
each other, don't you?

Like good sports.

Well... I know what he'll do with
his share. He'll get drunk somewhere

where he can be with the only kind
of woman he understands or likes.

Edmund... promise me you won't drink.

It's so dangerous. You
know doctor Hardy...

I thought he was an old idiot...

Edmund...

Come on kid, let's beat it!

Go on, Edmund. Jamie's calling.

There comes your father
down the stairs too.

Come on! Edmund.

- Goodbye, Mary.
- Goodbye, Edmund.

If you're coming home to
dinner try not to be late.

Tell your father, you
know how Bridget is.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye, Mama.

So lonely here.

You're lying to yourself again.

You wanted to get rid of them.

Their contempt and disgust
aren't pleasant company.

You're glad they've gone.

Then mother of God...

why do I feel so lonely?

That foghorn...

isn't it awful?

Yes indeed ma'am.

Wasn't the fog I minded,
I really love fog.

They say it's good for the complexion.

It hides you from the world
and the world from you.

You feel everything has changed,
nothing is what it seemed to be.

No one can find or touch you anymore.

I was scared out of my
wits riding back from town.

You couldn't see your
hand in front of you.

It's the foghorn I hate.

It won't let you alone.

It keeps reminding
you... calling you back.

But it can't tonight,
it's just an ugly sound.

It's...

It doesn't remind me of anything,
except perhaps Mr. Tyrone's snores.

I've had such fun teasing him about it.

He's always snored... ever since I
can remember, especially when he's had

too much to drink. And then he's like
a child, he doesn't like to admit it.

Well... I suppose I snore at times
too and I don't like to admit it.

So I've no right to
make fun of him, have I?

Sure everybody healthy snores,
it's a sign of sanity they say.

What time is it ma'am? I ought to
be getting back into the kitchen.

No, don't go Cathleen. I
don't want to be alone...

- ...yet.
- It won't be for long.

The master and the
boys will be home soon.

I doubt if they'll come home for dinner.

They have too good an
excuse... to remain in

the bar-rooms... where
they feel at home.

Have a drink yourself,
Cathleen, if you wish.

Well... I don't know
if I'd better ma'am.

Well... maybe one won't harm.

Here's to your good health ma'am.

I really did have good health once
Cathleen but that was long ago.

For God's sake ma'am...
it'll be half water.

He'll know by the taste.

By the time he gets home he'll be
too drunk to tell the difference,

he has such a good an excuse, he
believes, to drown his sorrows.

Well... it's a good man's
failing... never mind his weakness.

I don't mind, I've loved him
dearly for thirty-six years.

That's right ma'am, love
him dearly for any fool

can tell he worships
the ground you walk on.

Speaking of acting ma'am... how
is it you never went on the stage?

What... I?

What put that absurd idea in your head?

I was brought up in a respectable home

and educated in the best convent in the

middle-west before I met Mr. Tyrone.

I hardly knew there was
such a thing as the theater.

I was a very pious girl.

I even dreamed of
becoming a nun. I never

had the slightest
desire to be an actress.

I'd never think of you
being a holy nun ma'am.

Sure to God you'd never darken the
door of a church God forgive me.

Well... I never felt
at home in the theater.

Even though Mr. Tyrone has made
me go with him on all his tours.

I've had... little to do with
the people in his company.

Not that I had anything against
them, they were always very

kind to to me and I to them
but... their life was not my life.

It's always stood between me and...

and...

But let's not talk about old
things that could not be helped.

How thick the fog is.

I... I can't see the road.

All the people in the
world could pass by...

and I would never know.

I wish it was always that way.

It's getting dark already.
It'll soon be night.

Thank goodness. It was kind of you to

keep me company this afternoon Cathleen.

I should have been lonely driving up...

driving uptown alone.

Sure. Why wouldn't I rather ride
in a fine automobile than stay here?

It's like a vacation ma'am.

There's only one thing I didn't like.

What was that Cathleen.

The way the man in the drugstore acted

when I took in the prescription for you.

The appearance of him.

I d... I don't know what
you're talking about.

What drugstore? What prescrip...

Oh yes...

Of course, I'd forgotten.

The medicine for the... rheumatism...

in my hands.

What did the man say?

Not that it matter so long
as he filled the prescription.

Oh it mattered to me ma'am. I'm not
used to being treated like a thief.

He gave me a long look
and said insultingly

"where did you get hold of this?".

"Well" I says "it's none of your damn
business" but if you must know it's for

the lady I work for, Mrs. Tyrone who's
sitting out there in the automobile.

That shut him up quick.
He gave a long look out

and said "Ohh" and went
to get the medicine.

Yes... he... knows me.

I... have to take it

because there... there is no
other that can... stop the pain.

All the pain. I mean in my hands.

Poor hands.

You'll never believe it but they...

they were once one of my good points

along with my hair... and eyes.

I had a fine figure too.

They were a musician's hands.

I used to love the piano.

I worked so hard at my
music at the convent.

Mother Elizabeth and my
music teacher both said I

had more talent than any
student they remembered.

My father paid for special lessons.

He spoiled me. He would've sent me to Europe
to study after I'd graduated from the convent.

I might have gone if I hadn't fallen in love
with Mr. Tyrone or I might have become a nun.

I had two dreams.

To be a nun...

that was the more beautiful one.

To be a concert pianist.

That was the other.

I haven't touched the piano
in so many years. I couldn't

play now with such crippled
fingers even if I wanted to.

For a time after my marriage... I tried to
keep up my music but it was hopeless. One

night stands, cheap hotels, dirty trains,
leaving children, never having a home.

See... Cathleen?

How ugly they are, so
maimed and crippled.

You'd think they've been
through some horrible accident.

So they have come to think
of it. I won't look at them,

they are worst than the
foghorn at reminding me.

But even they can't hurt me now.

They're far away.

I see them...

but the pain is gone.

You've taken some of that medicine?

If I didn't know better I'd
think you'd a drop taken.

It kills the pain.

You go back...

until at last your... beyond it's reach.

Only the past when you were happy
is real. If you think Mr. Tyrone is

handsome now, Cathleen, you should
have seen him when I first met him.

He had a reputation of being one of
the handsomest men in the country.

Those at the convent
who'd seen him act or

seen his photographs
used to rave about him.

He was a big matin�e idol then.

Women... used to wait at the stage
door just to... see him come out.

You can imagine how... excited
I was when my father wrote telling

me he and James Tyrone had become
friends and I was to meet him

when I went home for my Easter vacation.

I showed the letter to all the girls.

How envious they were.

My father took me to see him act first.

It was a play about
the French revolution

and the... the leading
character... was a nobleman.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. I wept

when he was thrown in
prison and then was so

mad because I was afraid
my eyes would be red.

My... my father had said
we would go backstage to his

dressing room right after
the play and so we did.

I guess my... eyes and nose...
couldn't have been red after all.

I was really very
pretty then actually and

he was handsomer than my wildest dreams.

He was different...
different from ordinary

men like someone from another world.

I fell in love right then.

So did he.

He told me afterwards.

I forgot all about becoming a nun.

Or a concert pianist.

All I wanted was to be his wife.

Thirty-six years ago...

but I can see it as clearly
as if it were tonight.

And...

we've loved each other ever since and
in all those thirty-six years there...

there's never been a breath of scandal
about him. I mean with another woman.

He's made me very happy Cathleen.

He's a fine gentleman.

You're a lucky woman.

Sentimental fool.

What's so wonderful about
the first... meeting between

a silly romantic
schoolgirl... and a matin�er?

You were much... happier
before... you knew he existed.

In the convent... when you could pray...

to the blessed vi... virgin.

If only I could find the faith I lost.

So I could pray to her again.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

Hail Mary, full...

Hail Mary, full of...

Expect the blessed
virgin to be fooled...

by a lying dope fiend reciting words?

You can't fool her.

I haven't taken enough.
I have to go upstairs.

When you start again you never know...

You never know exactly
how much you need.

Why are they coming back?

Why are they coming back?

Are you there... Mary?

Yes. Yes I'm... I'm here
dear. In the sitting room.

I've been... I've been waiting for you.

I'm... I'm so happy you've come. I'd given
up hope. I was afraid you wouldn't come home.

It's such a dismal foggy evening it must be
much more cheerful in the bar-rooms uptown

where there are people you can
laugh and... Oh no don't deny it.

I know how you feel. I
don't blame you a bit.

I'm all the more grateful
to you for coming home.

I was... sitting here
so... lonely and blue.

Come and sit down.

Dinner won't be ready for a few minutes.

Your... your... actually a little early.

Will wonders never cease?

Here's the whiskey dear, shall I
pour you a drink. And you, Edmund?

I don't want to encourage you.

But one small one be... be... before...

dinner can't... do you any harm.

Where's Jamie?

But I... of course...
he'll never come home so

long as he has... the
price of a date left.

I'm afraid Jamie has been..lost
to us for a..long time..dear.

For the love of God, I'm
a fool for coming home.

Papa, shut up.

Who would have...
thought... Jamie would...

grow up to disgrace us.

Everyone liked him, all his... teachers

told us what a fine brain he had.

They... they predicted
a wonderful future for him

if only he'd... learned
to take life seriously.

Poor Jamie! Such a pity!

It's hard to understand.

No it isn't.

You brought him up to be a boozer.

Since he first opened his
eyes he's seen you drinking.

Always a bottle on the bureau
in the cheap hotel rooms.

If he had a nightmare when he
was little or a stomach ache

your remedy was to give him
a tea spoon full of whiskey.

- To quiet him.
- So I'm to blame because that

lazy hulk has made a
drunken loafer of himself?

Is that what I came back to listen
to? I might have known. When you

have the poison in you, you want
to blame everyone but yourself!

Papa!

Are we going to have
this drink or aren't we?

You're right. I'm a fool to take notice.

Drink hearty, lad.

I'm sorry if I... sounded
bitter, James, I'm not.

It's all so far away I... I was
a little hurt when you wished you

hadn't come home. I was so
relieved and happy when you came.

And grateful to you.

It's very dreary and sad
to be here alone in the fog.

With night falling.

I'm glad I came, Mary, when
you act like your real self.

I was so lonesome. I kept Cathleen with

me just to have someone to talk to.

Do you know what I was
telling her, James? About

that night my father took
me to your dressing room.

And I first fell in love
with you, do you remember?

Can you think I'll ever forget, Mary?

No.

I know you still love me, James.

In spite of everything.

Yes, as God is my judge.
Always and forever, Mary.

And I... love you dear.

In spite of everything.

But...

Although I couldn't help
loving you I would never

have married you if I'd
known you drank so much.

I remember the... first time your
bar-room fellows had to help you...

to the door of out hotel room
and knocked and then ran away

before I opened the door. We... we

were still in our honeymoon, remember?

I don't remember. It
wasn't on our honeymoon.

I've never in my life
had to be helped to bed

or missed a performance.

I waited in that ugly hotel
room... hour after hour.

I became terrified, I imagined
all sorts of horrible accidents. I

got down on my knees and prayed
that nothing had happened to you.

Then they brought you up and
left you outside the door.

God! No wonder.

I'm... I'm sorry I remembered out loud.

I don't want to be sad

or to make you sad.

I want to remember only
the happy part of the past.

Do you remember our wedding?

The wedding dear?

I... I... haven't made
such a bad wife, have I?

I'm not complaining, Mary.

At least I've loved
you dearly and I've done

the best I could under
the circumstances.

That wedding gown...

was nearly the death of
me. And the dressmaker too.

I was so particular, it
was never quite good enough.

At last she said she said she refused
to touch it anymore "it might spoil it"

so I made her leave so I could be
alone to examine myself in the mirror.

I was so pleased and vain.

I thought to myself "you're just as
pretty as any actress he's ever met

and you don't have to use paint".

Wh... where is my
wedding gown now I wonder.

I... I... I kept it wrapped
up in tissue paper in my trunk.

I hoped someday I'd have
a daughter and when it came

time for her to marry she
couldn't afford a lovely gown

and I knew, James, you'd never
tell her "never mind the cost".

You'd want her to pick
up something at a bargain.

It was made of soft shimmering satin

trimmed with wonderful old duchess
lace around the neck and sleeves

worked in with the
folds that were draped

around in a bustle effect at the back.

The bust was bound and very tight
and then I... I held my breath

when it was fitted so my waist
would be as small as possible.

My... my father...

...my father...

even let me have lace on
my white satin slippers

and lace with orange
blossoms in my veil.

How I loved that gown!

It was so...

...beautiful.

Where is it now I wonder.

I... I... I...

I used to take it out from
time to time when I was lonely.

But it always made me cry and so...

finally a long while ago...
I wonder where I hid it?

Probably in some old trunk in the
attic, someday I must have a look.

Well, isn't it dinner time dear?

You're ever scolding me
for being late but now

I'm on time for once,
it's dinner that's late.

Well, if I can't eat yet, I can drink.

I forgot I had this.

Who's been tampering with my whiskey?

The damn stuff is half water.

Any fool can tell.

Mary, answer me.

I hope to God you haven't
taken to drink on top of...

Shut up, Papa!

You treated Cathleen and
Bridget, isn't that it?

Yes. Yes I wanted to treat
Cathleen because I had her drive

uptown with me and sent her
to get my prescription filled.

For God's sake, Mama!
You can't trust her.

You want everyone on earth to know?

Know what?

That I suffer from
rheumatism in my hands

and have to take
medicine to kill the pain?

Why should I be ashamed
of that? I never knew

what rheumatism was
before you were bo... born.

Ask your father.

Don't mind her, lad, it doesn't mean
anything. When it gets to the stage where

she gives the old crazy excuse about
her hands she's gone far away from us.

I'm glad you realize that, James.

Now perhaps you'll give
up trying to remind me.

You and...

...Edmund.

Why don't you light the lights, James?

It's getting dark.

I know you hate to but
Edmund has proved to

you that one bulb
burning doesn't cost much.

It's too bad you let your fear of
the poor house make you too stingy.

I never claimed one bulb costed much.

It's having them on one here one there

makes the electric light company rich.

I'm a fool to talk sense to you.

I'll get a fresh bottle of whiskey, lad.

We'll have a real drink.

He'll sneak around....

...the outside cellar door so the...

...servants won't see him.

He's really ashamed of keeping his
whiskey pad-locked in the cellar.

Your father is a strange man.

Took many years before I understood
him. His father deserted his

mother and their six children a year
or so after they came to America.

He told them he had a premonition
he would die soon. He was homesick

for Ireland and wanted to go there
to die so he went and he did die.

He must have been a peculiar man too.

Your father had to go to
work in a machine shop when

he was only ten years...
- For Pete's sake, Mama!

Heard Papa tell that
story ten thousand times.

Yes dear. You've had to listen. But I
don't think you ever tried to understand.

Listen, Mama.

You're not so far gone yet
that you've forgotten everything

You haven't asked me what
I found out this afternoon.

Don't you care a damn?

- Don't say that. You hurt me dear.
- What I've got is serious, Mama.

Doc Hardy knows for sure.

That lying old quack! I
warned you he'd invent...

He called in a specialist
to examine me...

Don't tell me about doctor Hardy.

...so he'd be absolutely sure.

If you'd heard what the doctor in the
sanatorium who really know something

said about how he treated me. He said

it was a wonder I hadn't gone mad!

I told him I had once, that
time I ran down in my nightdress

to throw myself off the dock.
You remember that, don't you?

And you want me to pay attention
to what doctor Hardy says? Oh no.

Listen, Mama! I'm gonna tell you
whether you want to hear it or not.

I've got to go away to a sanatorium.

No!

How dare your father allow him.

You're my baby.

I know why he wants to send you to a
sanatorium. To take you away from me.

He's been jealous of everyone
of my babies and you most of all.

He knows I love you
most because your my...

Stop talking crazy, can't you, Mama?

And stop trying to blame him.

And why are you so against
my going away now? I've been

away a lot and I've never
noticed it broke your heart.

I'm afraid you're not...
very sensitive dear.

You ought to have guessed that...

after I knew you knew... about me...

I had to be glad whenever you
were away you couldn't see me.

Don't, Mama.

All this talk about...

loving me the more I try
to tell you how sick I am.

You're so like your father
dear. Love to be dramatic

and tragic so you can make
a scene out of nothing.

If I gave you the
slightest encouragement

you'd tell me next you're gonna die.

People do die of it. Your own father...

Why... why do you mention him?

No comparison at all. With
him he had consumption.

I hate it when you
become morbid and gloomy.

I forbid you to remind me of
my father's death do you hear?

Yes I hear you. I wish to God I didn't.

It's... hard to take
at times... having...

a dope fiend for a mother.

Forgive me, Mama.

I was angry... and you hurt me.

Just listen to that... foghorn.

And the bells.

Why is it... fog makes
everything sound so sad,

...lost?

I wonder.

I can't say.

I don't want any dinner.

I haven't taken enough
I have to go upstairs.

I hope sometime without...

...meaning to or...

...take an overdose.

Could never do it deliberately.

The blessed virgin
would never forgive me.

The pad lock is all
scratched. That drunken loafer

has tried to pick the
lock with a piece of wire

the way he's done before
but I fooled him this time.

It's a special pad lock a
professional burglar couldn't pick.

Where's Edmund?

He went out.

Perhaps he's gone uptown to find Jamie.

He still had some money left.

I suppose it's burning
a hole in his pocket.

He said he didn't want any dinner.

Doesn't seem to have
any appetite these days.

But it's just a summer cold.

James!

I'm so frightened! I
know he's gonna die.

Don't say that it's not true.

They promised me in six
months he'd be cured.

You don't believe that. I can tell when
you're acting. It'll be all my fault.

I should never have born him.

It would've been better for his
sake. I couldn't have hurt him then.

He wouldn't have had to know
his mother was a dope fiend.

Hush, Mary. For the love of
God. He loves you. He knows it

was a curse put upon you without
you knowing or willing it.

He's proud you're his
mother. Hush now, here comes

Cathleen, you don't want
her to see you crying.

Dinner is served sir.
Dinner is served ma'am.

Come along dear.

Let's have our dinner.

I'm as hungry as a hunter.

I couldn't... possibly
eat anything, James.

I think you'll have to excuse me.

My... my hands... pain me dreadfully.

I think the best thing for me
is to go to bed... and rest.

Goodnight dear.

Up to take more of that
God damn poison is it?

You'll be like a mad ghost
before the night is over.

I don't know what you're
talking about. You say such

mean bitter things when
you've had too much to drink.

You're as bad as Jamie or Edmund.

Who's that?

- Is it you, Edmund?
- Yes.

Turn that light out before
you come in. Well, I'm

glad you've come, lad.
I've been damn lonely.

You're a fine one to
run away and leave me

to sit alone here all
night when you know...

I've told you to turn out that light.

We're not giving a ball.

There's no reason to
have the house ablaze with

electricity at this time
of night burning up money.

"ablaze with electricity",
one bulb! Hell everyone leaves

a light on in the front
porch until they go to bed.

Ended up busting my
knee on the hat-stand.

The light from here
shows in the hall. You

could see a way well
enough if you were sober.

If "I" were sober, I like that.

I don't give a damn what other people
do. If they want to be wasteful fools

for the sake of show let them be.

One bulb! God, don't
be such a cheapskate!

I've proved to you by figures
you can leave the light bulb

all night on all night it
wouldn't be as much as one drink.

To hell with your figures! The
proof is in the bills I have to pay.

Yes, facts don't mean a thing do they?

What you want to believe,
that's the only truth.

Shakespeare was an Irish
catholic for example.

So he was. The proof was in his plays.

Well, he wasn't and there is no proof

of it in his plays except to you.

The Duke of Wellington that was
another good Irish catholic. I never

said he was a good one, he was a
renegade but a catholic just the same.

Well, he wasn't, you just
want to believe that nobody

but an Irish catholic
general could beat Napoleon.

Yes, now I'm not going
to argue with you. I

asked you to turn out
that light in the hall.

I heard you and as far as
I'm concerned it stays on.

None of your damned insolence.
Are you going to obey me or not?

Not!

You want to be a crazy
miser, put it out yourself.

Now, listen to me. I put up with a lot
from you because from the mad things

you've done at times I thought you
weren't quite right in your head.

I've excused you and never
lifted my hand to you,

but there's a straw that
breaks the camel's back.

You'll obey me and put out
that light or big as you

are I'll give you a trashing
that will teach you...

I'm sorry, lad. Forgive me I forgot.

You shouldn't goat me
into losing my temper.

Forget it, Papa, I apologize too. I had

no right being nasty about nothing.

I'm a bit souse I guess.

I'll put out the damn light.

No. No. No. Stay where
you are. Let it burn.

We'll have them all on. Let them burn.

To hell with them. The
poor house is the end of

the road it might as
well be sooner as later.

That's a grand curtain.
You're a wonder, Papa.

That's right, laugh at the
poor old man. The poor old ham.

But the final curtain
will be in the poor

house just he same.
And that's not comedy.

Well, well let's not argue. You'll
live to learn the value of a dollar.

You're not like that
damned tramp of a brother.

I've given up hope he'll ever get sense.

Where is he, by the way?

How would I know?

I thought you went
back uptown to meet him.

No I walked down by the beach. I
haven't seen him since this afternoon.

Well, if you shared the money
I gave you like a fool...

Sure I did. He always staked
me when he had anything.

Well, it doesn't take a soothsayer to
tell he's probably in the whorehouse.

For God's sake, Papa. If you're gonna
start that stuff again I'll beat it.

All right. All right. I'll stop. God
knows I don't like the subject either.

- Will you join me in a drink?
- Now you're talking!

I'm wrong to treat you, you've
had enough already but if you

walked all the way to the beach
you must be damp and chilled.

I dropped in at the inn
on the way out and back.

Not the night I'd pick for a long walk.

I love the fog.

It was what I needed.

You should have more sense than
to risk... To hell with sense!

The fog was where I wanted to be.

Halfway down the path
you can't see this house.

You'd never even know it was here.

Everything looked and sounded unreal.

It was like... walking
on the bottom of the sea.

As if I'd drowned long ago.

As if I was a ghost,
belonging to the fog.

And the fog was the ghost of the sea.

It felt damn peaceful to nothing
more than a ghost within a ghost.

Don't look at me as if
I'd gone nutty. Who wants

to see life as it is
if they can help it?

You've a poet in you but
it's a damn morbid one.

Devil take your pessimism!

I'm low spirited enough.

Why can't you remember
your Shakespeare? You'll

find what you were trying to say in him.

"We are such stuff as
dreams are made on and

our little life is rounded with a sleep"

Fine.

That's beautiful but I
wasn't trying to say that.

We are such stuff as
manure is made on so let's

drink up and forget
it, that's more my idea.

Keep such sentiments to yourself. I

shouldn't have given you that drink.

It did pack a wallop all right.

On you too. Even if you
never missed a performance.

What's wrong with being drunk?
It's what were after, isn't it?

"Be always drunken Nothing else
matters That is the only question"

"If you would not feel
the horrible burden of time

weighing on your shoulders
and crushing you to the earth"

"Be drunken continually"

"Be drunken with what? With wine,
with poetry or virtue as you will"

"But be drunken And if sometimes
on the stairs of a palace"

"Or on the green side of a ditch Or in

the dreary solitude of your own room"

"You should awaken And the drunkenness

be half of wholly slipped away from you"

"Ask of the wind or of the wave
or of the star or of the bird or of

the clock Of whatever flies or
sighs or rocks or sings or speaks"

"Ask what hour it is And the wind, the

wave, star, bird, clock will answer you"

"It is the hour to be drunken
Be drunken continually"

"With wine, with poetry
or with virtue As you will"

Well, I wouldn't worry about the
virtue part of it if I were you.

But you recited it well, lad.

- Who wrote it?
- Baudelaire.

Never heard of him.

Where do you get your taste in authors?

This damned library of yours...

Voltaire and Rousseau and
Schopenhauer and Ibsen!

Atheists, fools and madmen!
And your poet, this Baudelaire.

And Swinburne and Oscar
Wilde, and Whitman and Poe!

Whore-mongers and degenerates.

I have three good sets of
Shakespeare you could read.

They say he was a souse too.

They lie. I don't doubt he liked his
glass, it's a good man's failing, but he

knew how to drink that it didn't poison
his mind with morbidness and filth.

Don't compare him with
the pack you've got here.

Your dirty Zola! And your Dante Gabriel

Rossetti who was a dope fiend...

Perhaps it would be wise
to change the subject.

You can't accuse me of
not knowing Shakespeare.

Didn't I win five dollars from you
once when you bet me I couldn't learn a

leading part of his in a week as you
used to do in stock in the old days.

I learned Macbeth and recited it letter

perfect with you giving me the cues.

That's true, so you did.

And a terrible ordeal it was I

remember hearing you murder the lines.

I kept wishing I'd paid over the
bet without making you prove it.

Did you hear?

She's moving around.

I hope to God she doesn't come down.

Yes, she'd be nothing more than a

ghost haunting the past by this time.

Back before I was born.

Doesn't she do the same with me?

You must take her memories
with a grain of salt.

Her wonderful home was ordinary enough.

Her father wasn't the great noble
Irish gentleman she makes out. He was a

nice enough man, good company a good
talker. I liked him and he liked me.

He was prosperous enough too in his

wholesale grocery business. An able man.

But he had his weakness.

She condemns my drinking
but she forgets his.

It's true he never
touched a drop until he was

forty but after that he
made up for lost time.

He became a steady champagne drinker.

The worst kind. That was his grand pose.

To drink only champagne.

Well, it finished him quick.
That and the consumption.

We don't seem to be able to
avoid unpleasant topics, do we?

No.

Well, what do you say to a game
or two of casino, lad? All right.

We can't lock up and go to bed until

Jamie comes on the last trolly.

Which I hope he won't.

I don't want to go upstairs anyway.

Until she's gone to sleep. Neither do I.

As I told you before...

...you must take her tales of
the past with a grain of salt.

The piano playing and her dream
of becoming a concert pianist.

It was put in her head by the nuns
flattering her. She was their pet.

They loved her for being so devout

And the idea she might have
become a nun, that's the worst.

Your mother was one of the most
beautiful girls you ever could see.

She knew it too.

She was a bit of a
rogue and a coquette, God

bless her, behind all
her shyness and blushes.

She was never made
to renounce the world.

She was bursting with health and

high spirits and the love of loving.

For God's sake, Papa, pick up your hand.

Yes. Yes.

Let's see what I have here.

Listen.

She's coming downstairs.

Let's play our game,
pretend not to notice.

She'll soon go up again.

I don't see her, she
must have started down...

and turned back.
- Thank God!

Yes.

It's pretty horrible to see
her the way she must be now.

She's been terribly frightened about
your illness for all her pretending.

Don't be too hard on her, lad.
Remember she's not responsible.

I know damn well she's not to blame.

And I know who is. You
are. Your damned stinginess.

If you'd spent money on a decent
doctor when she was so sick

after I was born she would
never known morphine existed.

You must try to see
my side of it too, lad.

How was I to know he
was that kind of doctor?

He'd a good reputation.

Among the souses in
the hotel bar I suppose.

You lie! I asked the hotel
proprietor to recommend the best...

And at the same time
crying "poor house" and

making it plain you wanted a cheap one.

I know your system.

God I ought to after this afternoon.

What about this afternoon?

Never mind now. We're
talking about Mama.

I'm saying no matter how
you try and excuse yourself,

you know damn well your
stinginess was to blame.

I say you're a liar, shut
your mouth right now or...

After you'd found out she was a
morphine addict why didn't you send her

to a cure then, at the start,
when she still had a chance?

What did I know about morphine?

It was years before I
discovered what was wrong.

Why didn't I send her
to a cure you say? I've

spent thousands on
thousands in cures, a waste!

What have they done her?
She's always started again.

Yes, it's because you've never given her

anything that would help
her want to stay off it.

No home except this summer
dump in a place she hates and

you've refused to spend money
even to make this look decent.

While you keep buying more property
and playing sucker for every con-man

with a gold mine or a silver mine
or any other get rich quick swindle.

You've dragged her around
the road, season after season,

on one night stands with
no one she could talk to.

Waiting night after night
in dirty hotel rooms for you

to come home with a bun on
after the bar has closed.

It isn't any wonder she
didn't want to be cured.

God. God! When I think
of it I hate your guts.

Edmund how dare you talk
to your father like that?

You insolent young cub!

After all I've done for you.

We'll come to that,
what you're doing for me.

Will you stop repeating your
mother's crazy accusations?

I've never dragged her on
the road against her will.

Naturally I wanted her
with me, I loved her.

And she came because she loved me and

wanted to be with me that's the truth.

She needn't have been lonely, she
had her children and I insisted

despite the expense on having
a nurse to travel with her.

Yes, your one generosity.

And that because you were jealous of

her spending too much time with us.

And wanted us out of your way. And
that was another mistake too. If she

had to take care of me all by herself
and had that to occupy her mind

maybe she'd been able to stop.

Or for that matter since you insist
on judging things by what she says when

she's not in her right mind, if you'd

never been born she'd never...

Sure.

I know that's how she feels, Papa.

She doesn't.

She loves you as dearly as
ever a mother loved a son.

I've only said that because you've
put me in such a God damned rage.

Making up the past, saying you hate me.

I didn't mean it, Papa.

I'm like Mama. I can't help
liking you in spite of everything.

Well, I might say the same of you.

You're no great shakes as a son.

It's a case of "A poor
thing but mine own".

Well, what's happened to our game?
Who's play is it? Yours, I guess.

You mustn't let yourself
get too downhearted,

lad, by the bad news you had today.

Both doctors promised me, if
you obey orders, at this place

you're going, you'll be cured
in six months or a year at most.

Don't kid me... you think I'm gonna die.

That's a lie! You're crazy!

So why waste money? That's why
you're sending me to a state farm.

What state farm? It's the Hill
Town Sanatorium, that's all I know.

Both doctors told me it's
the best place for you.

For the money. Or for nothing
or practically nothing.

Don't lie, Papa. You know damn well Hill

Town Sanatorium is a state institution.

Jamie suspected you'd cry "poor house"
to Hardy and wormed the truth out of him.

That drunken loafer! I'll
kick him out in the gutter!

He's poisoned your mind against me ever
since you were old enough to listen.

You can't deny it's true
about the state farm, can you?

It's not true the way
you look at it. What if it

is run by the state,
that's nothing against it.

The state has money to make a better
place than any private sanatorium.

And why shouldn't I
take advantage of it?

It's my right and yours, we're
residents, I'm a property owner.

I help to support it.
I'm taxed to death...

Yes, on property valued
at a quarter of a million.

Lies. That's all mortgaged.

Hardy and the specialist
know what you're worth.

All I told them was I was no millionaire
that could afford such a sanatorium

because I was land
poor. That's the truth.

Then you went to the club
and you met McGuire and "you

let him stick you with
another bum piece of property".

- It's not true.
- Don't worry about it.

We met McGuire in the
hotel bar after you left.

Jamie kidded him about hooking
you and he winked and laughed.

- You liar.
- No lie about it!

God, Papa!

Ever since I went to see
him was on my own and found

out what it felt like
to be broke and starved.

And I tried to be fair to
you because I knew what you'd

Well...

Who's play is it?

"A stinking old miser"

Well, maybe you're right.

Maybe I can't help being....

Although all my life, since
I had anything, I've thrown

money over the bar to buy
drinks for everyone in the house

or loaned money to sponges that
I knew would never pay back. But

of course that was in bar-rooms
when I was full of whiskey.

Can't feel that way about
it when I'm sober in my home.

It was at home I first
learned the value of

a dollar and the fear of the poor house.

I've never been able to
believe in my luck since.

You said you realize what
I'd been up against as a boy.

The hell you do. How could you?

You had everything. Nurses,
schools... I know you've

had a spell of hard work
with your back and hands

and a bit of being homeless and
penniless in a foreign land and I

respect you for it. But it was a
game of romance and adventure to you.

- It was play.
- Yes, particularly the time I

tried to commit suicide
at Jimmy the Priest's

and almost did.

You weren't in your right mind.
No son of mine would ever...

- You were drunk.
- I was stone cold sober. That

was the trouble. I
stopped to think too long.

Don't start your damned
atheist morbidness again.

I don't care to listen.

I was trying to make plain to you. What

do you know of the value of a dollar?

When I was ten... my father deserted my

mother and went back to Ireland to die.

Which he did, soon enough and deserved

to and I hope he's roasting in hell.

He mistook rat poison for
flour or sugar or something...

There was gossip it wasn't
by mistake but that's a lie.

No one in my family would ever...

My bet is it wasn't by mistake.

More morbidness. Your
brother put that in your head.

The worst he can suspect
is the only truth for him.

But never mind.

My mother was left... a stranger
in a strange land with four

small children. There was no
damned romance in our poverty.

Twice we were evicted from the
miserable hovel we called home.

My mother's few sticks of
furniture thrown out on the gutter.

My mother and sisters crying.

I cried too, though I tried hard not to.

But I was the man of the family

at ten years old.

There was no more school for me.

I went to work twelve hours
a day in a machine shop.

Learning to make files.

Dirty barn of a place where
rain dripped through the roof.

You roasted in the summer, there was
no stove in winter. Your hands were

numb with cold. The only light came
through two small filthy windows.

So on gray days I'd
have to sit bent over, my

eyes almost touching the
files in order to see.

You talk of work. What
do you think I got for it?

Fifty cents a week. It's the
truth. Fifty cents a week.

My poor mother washed and
scrubbed for the yanks.

Well, I remember one thanksgiving...

or maybe it was Christmas

some yank in whose house mother
had been scrubbing gave her a dollar

extra for a present. On the way
home she spent it all on food.

I remember her hugging
and kissing us and saying,

tears of joy running
down her tired face,

"glory be to God! For once in our lives

there will be enough for each of us."

Fine brave sweet woman!

Never was a finer or a braver!

Yes, she must have been.

It was in those days I
learned to be a miser.

A dollar was worth so much then.

Once you've learned the
lesson it's hard to unlearn it.

You have to look for bargains.

If I took this state farm for a good
bargain you'll have to forgive me. The

doctors did tell me it was a good
place, you must believe that, Edmund.

But I swear I never meant for you
to go there if you didn't want to.

You can go to any place you
choose, never mind what it costs.

Any place... I can afford.
Any place... within reason.

What about our game? Whose
play is it? I don't know.

Mine I guess.

No it's yours.

Yes.

Maybe life overdid the lesson for me

and made a dollar worth too much.

And that mistake ruined
my career as a fine actor.

I've never admitted this
to anyone before, lad.

But tonight I'm so heartsick,
I feel at the end of everything.

And what's the use of
fake pride and pretense?

That God damned play I bought for a
song and made such a great success in,

a great money success, it ruined me
with it's promise of an easy fortune.

I didn't want to do anything else.

By the time I woke up to the
fact I'd become a slave to

the damn thing and did try
other plays it was too late.

They'd identified me with
that one part and didn't

want me in anything
else. They were right too.

I'd lost the great talent I
once had through years of easy

repetition, never learning a new
part never really working hard.

Thirty-five to forty thousand
dollars net profit a season!

Like snapping your fingers.

Yet before I bought the damn thing
I was considered one of the three

or four young actors with the
greatest artistic promise in America.

I'd work like hell!

I left a good job as a
machinist to take supers' parts

because I loved the theater.
I was wild with ambition.

I read all the plays
ever written. I studied

Shakespeare as you'd study the Bible.

I got rid of an Irish brogue(accent)
you could cut with a knife. I

loved Shakespeare. I'd have acted
in any of his plays for nothing

For the joy of being
alive in his great poetry.

I could have been a great
Shakespearean actor if I'd kept on.

In 1874 when Edwin
Booth came to the theater

in Chicago where I was leading man.

I played Cassius to his
Brutus one night, Brutus to

his Cassius the next.
Othello to his Iago and so on.

First night I played Othello
he said to our manager: "That

young man is playing Othello
better than I ever did."

That from Booth!

The greatest actor of
his day or any other.

As I look back on it now, that night

was the highest spot of my career.

I had life where I wanted it.

But for a time after that I
kept on with ambition high,

married your mother. Ask her
what I was like in those days.

Her love was an added
incentive to ambition.

Then a few years later my good bad

luck made me find the big money maker.

And then life had me where it wanted me.

At from thirty-five to forty
thousand net profit a season.

A fortune in those days.

Even in these.

What the hell was it I wanted to
buy, I wonder, that was worth...

Oh well, it's a late day for regrets.

My play, isn't it?

I'm glad you told me this, Papa.
I know you a lot better now.

Maybe I shouldn't have told you. Maybe

you'll only feel more contempt for me.

It's a poor way to convince
you of the value of a dollar.

The glare from those
extra lights hurts my eyes.

You don't mind if I turn them
out do you? We don't need them.

There's no point in making the
electric company light company rich.

No, sure not. Turn them out.

No, I don't know what the
hell it was I wanted to buy.

On my solemn oath, Edmund.

I'd gladly face not
having an acre of land

to call my own, nor a penny in the bank

I'd be willing to have no home but
the poor house in my old age if I

could look back now on having been
the fine artist I might have been.

What the devil are you laughing at?

Not at you, Papa.

At life, it's so damned crazy.

More of your morbidness.
There's nothing wrong with life.

It's we who...

"The fault dear Brutus
is not in our stars

but in ourselves that we are underlings"

The praise Edwin Booth gave my Othello!

I made our manager write down
his exact words in writing.

I kept it in my wallet for years. I

used to read it every once in a while.

Until, finally, it made me feel
so bad I couldn't face it anymore.

Where is it now, I wonder?
Somewhere in this house.

I remember I put it away carefully.

Might be in an old trunk in the attic

along with Mama's wedding dress.

For Pete's sake, Papa, if we're
gonna play cards, let's play.

She's still moving around.

- God know when she'll go to sleep!
- For God's sake, Papa, forget it!

You just told me some high spots
in your memories, want to hear mine?

They're all connected with the sea.

Here's one. When I was on the Squarehead

square rigger, bound for Buenos Aires.

Full moon in the Trades the old
hooker driving fourteen knots.

I lay on the bowsprit, facing astern

the water foaming into spume under me,

the masts with every sail white in the

moonlight, towering high above me.

I became drunk with the beauty
and singing rhythm of it,

and for a moment
I lost myself --

actually lost my life. I was set free!

I dissolved in the sea, became white
sails and flying spray, became beauty

and rhythm, became the ship and the
moonlight and the high dim-starred sky!

I belonged, without past or future,

within peace and unity and a wild joy,

to something greater than my
own life, or the life of Man,

to Life itself!

To God, if you want to put it that way.

And several other times in my
life, when I was swimming far

out, or lying alone on a beach,
I have had the same experience.

Became the sun, the
hot sand, green seaweed

anchored to a rock, swaying in the tide.

Like a saint's vision of
beatitude. Like the veil of

things as they seem drawn
back by an unseen hand.

For a second you see -- and
seeing the secret are the secret.

For a second there is meaning!

Then the hand lets the veil fall and

you are alone, lost in the fog again.

It's a great mistake me
being born a man. I'd have

been much more successful
as a seagull or a fish.

As it is I'll always be a stranger
who can never really feel at home.

Who does not really
want, is not really wanted

who can never really belong and who must

always be a little in love with death.

Yes, you've the makings
of a poet in you all right.

The makings of a poet?

No I'm... I'm afraid I'm like the guy

who's always panhandling for a smoke.

He hasn't even got the makings,
he's only got the habit.

I couldn't touch what I was trying to

tell you just now I only stammered.

It's the best I'll ever
do, I mean if I live.

That's faithful realism
at least. Stammering

is the native eloquence
of us, fog people.

Well, that sounds like absent brother.

He must have a peach of a bun on.

That loafer. He caught the
last car back. Bad luck to it.

Get him to bed, Edmund. I'll
go out on the porch. He has a

tongue like an adder when he's
drunk. I'd only lose my temper.

What ho! What...

Nix on the loud noise.

Hello kid.

I'm as drunk as a fiddler's bitch.

Thanks for telling me your great secret.

Yeah. Unnecessary
information number one.

I had a serious accident. Front
steps tried to trample on me.

Took advantage of the fog the way...

Ought to be another
lighthouse out there.

It's dark in here too.

What the hell is this, the morgue?

"Ford, ford, ford o'
Kabul river in the dark!"

"Keep the crossing-stakes
beside you, an' they will surely

guide you 'Cross the ford
o' Kabul river in the dark."

There. That's more like it.

To hell with old Gaspard!

Where is that old tight wad?

He's out on the porch.

He expects us to live....
in a black hole in Calcutta!

Say...

Have I got the DTs? (delirium
tremens; from alcohol withdrawal)

My God! It's real.

Hey what's the matter
with the old man? He

must be acidified to
forget he left this out.

Grab opportunity by the forelock!

It's the key to my success.

You're stinking now.
That will knock you stiff.

Wisdom from the mouth of babes.

Can the wise stuff kid, you're
still wet behind the ears.

All right. Pass out if you want to.

I can't, that's the trouble. I've had

enough to sink a ship but I can't sink.

- Well... here's hoping.
- I'll have one too.

No. No you don't. Not while I'm around.

Remember doctors orders.

Maybe no one else gives a
damn if you die but I do.

You're my kid brother.
I love your guts kid.

Everything else is gone
and you're all I got left.

So no booze for you if I can help it.

Lay off.

You don't believe I
care. Just drunken bull.

All right go ahead and kill yourself.

Sure I know you care, Jamie.

And I'm going on the wagon
but tonight doesn't count.

Too many damned things have
happened today. Here's how.

I know kid, it's been
a lousy day for you.

I bet old Gaspard hasn't tried to
keep you off the booze. He'll probably

give you a case to take with you to
the state farm for pauper patients.

The sooner you kick the
bucket, the less expense.

What a bastard to have
for a father! God if you

put him in a book no
one would believe it.

Papa's all right if
you try to understand

him and keep your sense of humor.

He's been putting on
the old sob act for you?

He could always fool you but not me.

Never again.

Though I do feel sorry for
him in a way about one thing.

He even had that coming
to him. He's to blame.

To hell with that.

The last drink is really getting to me,

this one ought to put the lights out.

Hey did you tell old Gaspard
that I got it out of doc.

Hardy that the sanatorium
was a charity dump?

Yes. I told him I
wouldn't go there. It's all

settled now, he said I
can go anywhere I want...

within reason of course.

Yes, "of course my boy,
a-ny-thing... within reason".

That means another cheap dump!

Old Gaspard, the miser in "The Bells".

That's a part he can
play without make-up.

I've heard that Gaspard
stuff a million times.

All right, if you're satisfied, let him

get away with it. It's your funeral.

I mean... I hope it won't be.

What did you do uptown
tonight? Go to Mamie Burns?

Sure thing. Where else could I find
suitable feminine companionship?

And love? Don't forget love.

What is man without
a good woman to love?

- A God damn hollow hole.
- You're a nut.

Hey... guess which one
of Mamie's charmers I

picked to bless me
with her woman's love.

It'll hand you a laugh kid. I picked...

Fat Violet.

- No, honest?
- Yeah.

Some pick!

God! Oh God she weighs a ton.

- What the hell for, a joke?
- Oh no, no joke.

Very serious. By the time I hit
Mamie's dump I was feeling very

sorry for myself and all the
other poor bums in the world.

Ready for a weep on
any old womanly bosom.

You know how you get
when the old John barley

corn turns on the soft
music inside of you.

And the as soon as I hit the door,
Mamie began telling me her troubles. She

beefed how rotten business was. She
was going to give Fat Violet the gate.

The customers didn't fall
for Vi, the only reason

she kept her was she
could play the piano.

Well, lately Violet has been
going on drunks and been getting

to boiled to play and was
eating her out of house and home.

How old Vi was a good hearted
dumbbell and I felt sorry for her

'cause she didn't know how in
the hell she'd make a living.

Still... business was business.

She couldn't afford to
run a home for fat tarts.

Well, it made me... feel
very sorry for Fat Violet.

So I squandered two bucks

of your dough

to escort her upstairs. Now, with no

dishonorable intentions whatever.

I like them fat but not that fat.

All I wanted was a little heart to heart

talk concerning the
infinite sorrow of life.

Poor Vi!

She stood it for a while,
then she got good and sore.

Got the idea I'd taken
her upstairs as a joke.

Gave me a grand bawling out.

Then she began to cry.

So I had to say I loved
her, because she was fat.

And she wanted to believe that.

Then I stayed with her to prove it.

And that cheered her up.

She kissed me when I left.
Said she'd fallen hard for me.

And we both cried a
little more in the hallway

and everything was fine.

Except Mamie Burns
thought I'd gone bughouse.

Harlots and hunted have
pleasures of their own

to give, the vulgar herd
can never understand.

Exactly!

And a hell of a good time at that.

This night has opened mine eyes to a

great career in store for me my boy.

I shall give the art of
acting back to the performing

seals, which are it's
most perfect expression,

by applying my natural God given
talents in their proper sphere.

I shall attain the pinnacle of success!

I'll be the lover of the fat
woman in Barnum and Bailey Circus.

Imagine me sunk to the fat girl
in a hick town hooker shop. Me!

I've had some of the best lookers
on Broadway sit up and beg.

"Speakin' in general,
I've tried 'em all, the

'appy roads that take
you o'er the world."

It's not so apt.

Happy roads is bunk.
Weary roads is right.

They get you nowhere fast.

And that's where I got...

nowhere.

Where everyone lands in the end, even

if most of the suckers won't admit it.

Can it, you'll be crying in a minute.

Hey!

Don't get too damn fresh.

But you're right, the hell with
repining. Fat Violet is a good kid.

I'm glad I stayed with
her. It was a Christian act.

Cured her blues, a hell of a good time.

You should have stuck
around with me kid.

Taken your mind off your troubles.
What's the use of coming home?

You get the blues over
what can't be helped.

It's all over. Finished, now.

Not a hope.

"If I were hanged on the highest
hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

I know whose love would
follow me still..."

Shut up!

Where's the hop head? Gone to sleep?

You dirty bastard!

Thanks kid.

I certainly had that coming.

I don't know what made me.

- Booze talking, you know me kid.
- God! Jamie.

No matter how drunk you
are, there's no excuse.

I'm sorry I...

You and I never scrapped that bad.

Sorry kid. Glad you did.

My dirty tongue, I'd like to cut it out.

It was because I feel so damn sunk.

Because this time Mama had me fooled.

I suppose I can't forgive her yet.

It meant so much...

I'd began to hope that if
she'd beaten the game...

maybe I could too.

God don't I know how you feel.

Oh God!

I've known about Mama
so much longer than you.

I'll never forget the
first time I got wise.

I caught her in the act with a hypo.

(hypodermic syringe)

God!

I'd never believe before that
anyone but whores took dope.

Stop it, Jamie.

And then this stuff of
your getting consumption.

It's... it's got me licked.

We've been more than brothers.

You're the only pal I ever had.

I love your guts kid,
I'd do anything for you.

I know that, Jamie.

Yeah.

I bet you heard Mama and old Gaspard
spilling so much bunk about my

hoping for the worst you suspect
right now I'm thinking to myself that

Papa is old, can't last much longer

and if you were to die, Mama
and I would get all he's got.

- So I'm probably hoping...
- Shut up you damn fool!

What the hell put that in your nut?

That's what I'd like to know.
What put that in your mind?

Don't be a dumbbell! What I said.

I'm always suspected
of hoping for the worst.

I got so I can't help it.

Hey!

What are you trying
to do? Accuse me? Now

don't you play the wise guy with me!

I've learned more about life than
you'll ever know. Just because

you read a lot of high brow
junk don't think you can fool me.

You're only an overgrown
kid. Mama's baby,

Papa's pet, the family
white hope. The...

You've been getting a swelled
head lately about nothing!

About a few poems in a hick
town newspaper. Hell, I used

to write better stuff for
the lit. magazine in college.

You better wake up! You're
setting no rivers on fire.

You let hick town boobs flatter
you with bunk about your future...

Hell kid... forget that.

That goes for Sweeney.
You know I didn't mean it.

No one is prouder that
you started to make good.

Why shouldn't I be proud?

You reflect credit on me.

I had more to do with
bringing you up than anybody.

I wised you up about women
so you'd never be the fall

guy and make any mistakes
you didn't want to make.

And who steered you on to
reading that poetry first?

Swinburne, for example?

I did!

And because I once
wanted to write, I put

it in your head that
someday you'd write.

Hell you're more than
my brother. I made you!

You are my Frankenstein!

All right.

I'm your Frankenstein.

So...

let's have another drink?

You crazy nut.

No.

I'll have a drink...

not you.

I got to take care of you.

Listen kid...

you'll be going away

I may not get another
chance to talk or I may

not be drunk enough
to tell you the truth

so I got to tell you
now something I ought to

have told you a long time
ago for your own good.

No drunken bull.

But in vino veritas.

You better take this seriously.

I wanna warn you... against me.

Mama and Papa are right I've
been a rotten bad influence

but worst of all is...

I did it on purpose.

I don't want to hear anymore.

You listen...

I did it on purpose to
make a bum out of you.

Part of me did a big part.

The part that's been dead
so long that hates life.

My putting you wise so
you'd learn from my mistakes

well I believed that myself
at times but it's a fake. It

made my mistakes look good.
Made getting drunk romantic.

Made whores fascinating
vampires instead of

poor stupid diseased
slobs they really are.

Made fun of work as a sucker's
game. I never wanted you

to succeed and make me look
even worse by comparison.

Wanted you to fail.
Always jealous of ya.

Mama's baby! Papa's pet!

And it was your being born
that started Mama on dope. I

know that's not your fault
but all the same God damn you!

I can't help hating your guts.

- Cut it out, Jamie.
- Don't get me wrong kid.

I love you more than
I hate you. My telling

what I'm telling you now proves it.

Because I run the risk you'll
hate me and you're all I got left.

I didn't mean to tell
you all that last stuff

to go that far back, I
don't know what made me.

What I wanted to say
is I'd like to see you

become the greatest
success in the world.

But you better be on your guard, because

I'm gonna do my damnest
to make you fail.

I can't help it.

I hate myself. I got to take revenge

on everyone else, especially you.

The dead part of me
hopes you won't get well.

Maybe he's even glad the
game's got Mama again.

He wants company! He doesn't want to

be the only corpse around the house.

God, Jamie!

You're crazy!

You think it over, you'll
see I'm right. Think it over

while you're away from me in
the sanatorium. Make up your

mind you gotta tie a can to
me, get me out of your life.

You got to think of me as dead. Tell

people "I had a brother but he's dead".

And you come back you look
out for me because I'll be

waiting to welcome you here
with that "My old pal" stuff

and give you the glad
hand and the first good

chance I get I'm gonna
stab you in the back!

Stop! I'll be god damned
if I'm gonna listen to...

Don't you forget me. Remember
I warned you for your sake.

Come on! Give me credit!

"Greater love hath
no man than this: That

he saveth his brother from himself."

That's all.

I'm finished now...
I've gone to confession.

I know you absolve me, don't you kid?

You understand.

You're a damn fine kid.

You ought to be. I made you.

So go and get well.

Don't die on me, you're all I got left.

God bless, kid.

That last drink...

the old K.O.

Thank God he's asleep.

I thought he'd never stop talking.

You better let him sleep, what
he needs is to sleep it off.

I heard the last part of his
talk, it's what warned you. I hope

you'll heed the warning now
that it comes from his own mouth.

You mustn't take it too
much to heart though, lad.

He loves to exaggerate the
worst in himself when he's drunk.

He's devoted to you.

It's the one good thing left in him.

What a sweet spectacle
for me my first born

who I'd hoped would bear my
name in honor and dignity.

Showed such brilliant promise.

- Be quiet can't you, Papa?
- A waste! A wreck! A drunken hulk!

Done with and finished.

"Clarence is come;
false, fleeting, perjured

Clarence, That stabb'd me
in the field by Tewksbury;

Seize on him, Furies and
take him in to torment."

What the hell are you staring at?

"Look in my face; my
name is Might-have-been.

I am also called No-more,
Too-late, Farewell."

I'm well aware of that and God
knows I don't want to look at it.

Quit it!

You know I got a great
idea for you, Papa.

Pu on a revival of "The
Bells" this season, there's

a great part in there you
can play without make-up.

- Old Gaspard the miser!
- Shut up, Jamie!

I claim that Edwin Booth
never saw the day when he

could give as good a
performance as a trained seal.

Seals are intelligent and honest,
they don't put on any bluffs about "the

art of acting", they admit they're
just hams earning their daily fish.

You loafer!

Papa! You wanna start a
row that'll bring Mama down?

Jamie go to sleep.

You shot off your
mouth too much already.

All right kid.

I'm not looking for an argument.

Too damn sick.

I wish to God she'd go to
bed so that I could too.

I'm dumb tired.

I can't stay up all
night like I used to.

I'm getting old. Old and finished.

I can't keep my eyes open.

I think I'll catch a few winks.

Why don't you do the same, Edmund.

It'll pass the time until she...

"A mad scene."

"Enter Ophelia"

Good boy, Edmund! The dirty blaggard!

His own mother!

All right kid I had that coming

but I told you how much I'd hoped.

I'll kick you out in the
gutter tomorrow, so help me God!

Papa.

Jamie.

For the love of God! Stop it.

I play so badly now.
I'm all out of practice.

Sister Theresa would give
me a dreadful scolding.

She'd tell me it isn't fair to my father

who spent so much
money for extra lessons.

She's quite right it
isn't fair when he's

so good and generous and so proud of me.

I'll practice everyday from now on.

Something... horrible
has happened to my hands.

The fingers have gotten all stiff, the

knuckles are all
swollen, they're so ugly.

I'll go to the infirmary
and show sister Martha. She's

old and a little cranky,
but I love her just the same.

She has things in her medicine chest
that'll cure anything. She'll give me

something to rub on my hands and
tell me to pray to the blessed virgin.

I'll be well again in no time.

Let... let me see...

What did I...

come here... to find?

It's terrible how absent
minded I've become.

Always dreaming and forgetting.

Here, let me take it
dear. You'll only step

on it and then you'll
be sorry afterwards.

Thank you. You're very kind. It's a

wedding gown, it's
very lovely, isn't it?

I remember now...

I found it... in the
attic hidden in a trunk.

I... I don't know what I wanted it for.

I'm going to be a nun.

That is...

if I can only... find...

What is it I'm looking for?

- I know it's something I lost.
- Mary.

No good, Papa.

Something I... I miss... terribly.

It... it can't be all together lost.

Mama.

- Something... - What's the
use...? - ...I need terribly.

I remember, when I had it I
was never lonely nor afraid.

I can't have lost it forever.

I'd die if I thought
that. Because then th...

there would be no hope.

Mama.

It's not just a summer cold.

I've got consumption.

No. No!

You must not try to hold me.
You must not try to touch me.

You damn fool, it's no good.

It's not right when
I'm hoping to be a nun.

We are fools to pay any attention.

It's the damn poison!
I never knew her drown

herself in it as deep as this before.

Pass me that bottle, Jamie.

I had a talk with mother Elizabeth.

She's so sweet and good.

A saint on earth. I love her dearly.

It may be sinful of me, but I
love her better than my own mother.

Because she always understands
even before you say a word.

Her kind blue eyes look
right into your heart.

Can't keep any secrets from her.

You couldn't deceive even if
you were mean enough to want to.

All the same...

I... I don't think she was
so understanding this time.

I told her I wanted to be a nun.

I explained how sure
I was of my vocation,

that I'd prayed to the blessed virgin
to make me sure and find me worthy.

I told mother I had had a true vision

when I was praying in the
shrine of our Lady of Lords,

on the little island in the lake.

I said I knew as surely
as I was kneeling there

that the blessed virgin had
smiled and given me her consent

but mother Elizabeth said I
must be more sure than that even,

that I must prove it wasn't
simply my imagination.

She said if I was so sure

then I wouldn't mind
putting myself to a test

by going home after I'd graduated
and living as other girls live,

going out to parties and
dances and enjoy myself

and then after a year or two
if I was still sure I could

come back to see her and
we would talk it over again.

I never dreamed holy mother
would give me such advice.

I was really shocked!

I said naturally I... I would do

anything she suggested, but I
knew it was simply a waste of time.

After... I left her
I felt... all mixed up.

So I went to the shrine and
I prayed to the blessed virgin

and found peace again.

Because I knew she heard my
prayer and would always love me

and see no harm ever came to me

so long... so long as I
never lost my faith in her.

That was in the winter
of... senior year.

Then in the spring

something happened to me.

Yes I remember.

I fell in love with James Tyrone

and was so happy...

for a time.