by Eugene O'Neill (Author)
He seems broader, fiercer, more truculent, more powerful, more sure of himself than the rest. They respect his superior strength--the grudging respect of fear. Then, too, he represents to them a self-expression, the very last word in what they are, their most highly developed individual. VOICES--Gif me trink dere, you 'Ave a wet Salute Gesundheit Skoal Drunk as a lord, God stiffen you Here's how Luck Pass back that bottle, damn you Pourin' it down his neck Ho, Froggy Where the devil have you been? La Touraine. I hit him smash in yaw, py Gott Jenkins--the First--he's a rotten swine-- And the coppers nabbed him--and I run-- I like peer better. It don't pig head gif you. A slut, I'm sayin' She robbed me aslape-- To hell with 'em all You're a bloody liar Say dot again Commotion. Two men about to fight are pulled apart.]