PS 
 
 3529 
 
 N5 
 
 B4 
 
 1921 
 
 MAIN 
 
 PC-NRLF 
 
 B M 1DD 
 
BEYOND THE 
 HORIZON 
 
 By 
 EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 v 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR 
 
 THE DRAMATISTS PLAY SERVICE 
 
 by 
 
 RANDOM HOUSE - NEW YORK 
 PRICE 75 CENTS 
 
 ;?. 
 
Dramatists Play Service, Inc. 
 
 Established by members of the 
 Dramatists" Guild of the Au 
 thors" League of America for 
 the handling of the non-profes 
 sional acting rights of members" 
 plays and the encouragement of 
 the non-professional theatre. 
 BARRETT H. CLARK 
 Executiiv Director 
 
 The DRAMATISTS PLAT SERVICE. 
 INC.. leases plays, including 
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 plays of the past, and new plays 
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 Advisory Board 
 SIDNEY HOWARD 
 GEORGE S. KAUFMAN 
 JOHN HOWARD LAWSON 
 HOWARD LINDSAY 
 ALBERT MALTZ 
 KENYON NU HOI SON 
 CLIFFORD ODETS 
 EDWARD CHILDS CARPENTER 
 EUGENE O NEILL 
 FHILIP BARRY 
 ELMER RICE 
 ROBERT E. SHERWOOD 
 WALTER PRICHARD EATON 
 JOHN WEXLET 
 GEORGE ABBOTT 
 MAXWELL ANDERSON 
 MARC CON NELLY 
 RACHEL CROTHERS 
 MARTIN FLAVIN 
 SI SAN GLASPELL 
 
 JOHN GOLDEN 
 ARTHUR HOPKINS 
 AUSTIN STRONG 
 
 6 EAST 39TH STREET, NEW YORK CITY 
 
BEYOND THE 
 
 HORIZON 
 
 By 
 EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR 
 
 THE DRAMATISTS PLAY SERVICE 
 
 by 
 RANDOM HOUSE NEW YORK 
 
Copyright, 1921, by Eugene O Neill 
 
 CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that 
 Beyond the Horizon, being fully protected under the copyright 
 laws of the United States of America, the British Empire, 
 including the Dominion of Canada, and all other countries of 
 the copyright union, is subject to a royalty. All rights, includ 
 ing professional, amateur, motion picture, recitation, public 
 reading, radio broadcasting, and the rights of translation into 
 foreign languages, are strictly reserved. In its present form 
 this play is dedicated to the reading public only. All in 
 quiries regarding this play should be addressed to Richard J. 
 Madden Play Company, at 1501 Broadway, New York, N. Y. 
 
 The non-professional acting rights of Beyond the Horizon are 
 controlled exclusively by the Dramatists Play Service, Inc., 
 6 East 39th Street, New York, N. Y., without whose per 
 mission in writing no performance of it may be made. 
 
 
 Manufactured in the United States of America 
 
/v/5 Q 
 
 i<?zi 
 
 MA/A/ 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 JAMES MAYO, a farmer 
 
 KATE MAYO, fci* wz /e 
 
 CAPTAIN DICK SCOTT, of Jfce fcar/c Sunda, /ter brother 
 
 ANDREW MAYO 
 
 _. ,, ^^ow* of JAMES MAYO 
 
 ROBERT MAYO 
 
 RUTH ATKINS 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, her widowed mother 
 
 MARY 
 
 BEN, a farm hand 
 
 DOCTOR FAWCETT 
 
ACT I 
 
 SCENE I: The Road. Sunset of a day in Spring. 
 SCENE II: The Farm House The same night. 
 
 ACT II 
 
 (Three years later) 
 
 SCENE I: The Farm House. Noon of a Summer day. 
 SCENE II: The top of a hill on the farm overlooking the sea. 
 The following day. 
 
 ACT III 
 
 (Five years later) 
 
 SCENE I: The Farm House. Dawn of a day in late Fall. 
 SCENE II: The Road. Sunrise. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 
 ACT ONE 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 
 
 ACT ONE 
 
 SCENE ONE 
 
 A section of country highway. The road runs diagonally 
 from the left, forward, to the right, rear, and can be seen in 
 the distance winding toward the horizon like a pale ribbon 
 between the low, rolling hills with their freshly plowed fields 
 clearly divided from each other, checkerboard fashion, by the 
 lines of stone walls and rough snake fences. 
 
 The forward triangle cut off by the road is a section of a 
 field from the dark earth of which myriad bright-green blades 
 of fall-sown rye are sprouting. A straggling line of piled 
 rocks, too low to be called a wall, separates this field from 
 the road. 
 
 To the reai of the road is a ditch with a sloping, grassy 
 bank on the far side. From the center of this an old, gnarled 
 apple tree, just budding into leaf, strains its twisted branches 
 heavenwards, black against thi, pallor of distance. A snake- 
 fence sidles from left to right along the top of the bank, pass 
 ing beneath the apple tree. 
 
 The hushed twilight of a day in May is just beginning. The 
 horizon hills are still rimmed by a faint line of flame, and the 
 sky above them glows with the crimson flush of the sunset. 
 This fades gradually as the action of the scene progresses. 
 
 At the rise of the curtain, ROBERT MAYO is discovered sitting 
 
 15 
 
16 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 on the fence. He is a tall, slender young man of twenty-three. 
 There is a touch of the poet about him expressed in his high 
 forehead and wide, dark eyes. His features are delicate and 
 refined, leaning to "weakness in the mouth and chin. He is 
 dressed in gray corduroy trousers pushed into high laced boots, 
 and a blue flannel shirt with a bright colored tie. He is read 
 ing a book by the fading sunset light. He shuts this, keeping 
 a finger in to mark the place, and turns his head toward the 
 horizon, gazing out over the fields and hills. His lips move as 
 if he were reciting something to himself. 
 
 His brother ANDREW comes along the road from the right, 
 returning from his work in the fields. He is twenty-seven years 
 old, an opposite type to ROBERT husky, sun-bronzed, hand 
 some in a large-featured, manly fashion a son of the soil, 
 intelligent in a shrewd way, but with nothing of the intellectual 
 about him. He wears overalls, leather boots, a gray flannel 
 shirt open at the neck, and a soft, mud-stained hat pushed back 
 on his head. He stops to talk to ROBERT, leaning on the hoe 
 he carries. 
 
 ANDREW, (seeing ROBERT has not noticed his presence in 
 a loud shout) Hey there ! (ROBERT turns with a start. Seeing 
 who it is, he smiles) Gosh, you do take the prize for day 
 dreaming! And I see you ve toted one of the old books along 
 with you. (He crosses the ditch and sits on the fence near 
 his brother) What is it this time poetry, I ll bet. (He 
 reaches for the book) Let me see. 
 
 ROBERT, (handing it to him rather reluctantly) Look out 
 you don t get it full of dirt. 
 
 ANDREW, (glancing at his hands) That isn t dirt it s 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 17 
 
 good clean earth. {He turns over the pages. His eyes read 
 something and he gives an exclamation of disgust) Hump ! 
 {With a provoking grin at his brother he reads aloud in a dole 
 ful, sing-song voice) "I have loved wind and light and the 
 bright sea. But holy and most sacred night, not as I love 
 and have loved thee." (He hands the book back) Here ! Take 
 it and bury it. I suppose it s that year in college gave you 
 a liking for that kind of stuff. I m darn glad I stopped at 
 High School, or maybe I d been crazy too. (He grins and 
 slaps ROBERT on the back affectionately) Imagine me reading 
 poetry and plowing at the same time ! The team d run away, 
 I ll bet. 
 
 ROBERT, (laughing) Or picture me plowing. 
 
 ANDREW. You should have gone back to college last fall, like 
 I know you wanted to. You re fitted for that sort of thing 
 just as I ain t. 
 
 ROBERT. You know why I didn t go back, Andy. Pa didn t 
 like the idea, even if he didn t say so; and I know he wanted 
 the money to use improving the farm. And besides, I m not 
 keen on being a student, just because you see me reading books 
 all the time. What I want to do now is keep on moving so 
 that I won t take root in any one place. 
 
 ANDREW. Well, the trip you re leaving on tomorrow will 
 keep you moving all right. (At this mention of the trip they 
 both fall silent. There is a pause. Finally ANDREW goes on, 
 awkwardly, attempting to speak casually) Uncle says you ll 
 be gone three years. 
 
 ROBERT. About that, he figures. 
 
 ANDREW, (moodily) That s a long time. 
 
 ROBERT. Not so long when you come to consider it. You 
 
18 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 know the Sunda sails around the Horn for Yokohama first, 
 and that s a long voyage on a sailing ship; and if we go to 
 any of the other places Uncle Dick mentions India, or Aus 
 tralia, or South Africa, or South America they ll be long 
 voyages, too. 
 
 ANDREW. You can have all those foreign parts for all of 
 me. (After a pause) Ma s going to miss you a lot, Rob. 
 
 ROBERT. Yes and I ll miss her. 
 
 ANDREW. And Pa ain t feeling none too happy to have you 
 go though he s been trying not to show it. 
 
 ROBERT. I can see how he feels. 
 
 ANDREW. And you can bet that I m not giving any cheers 
 about it. (He puts one hand on the fence near ROBERT). 
 
 ROBERT, (putting one hand on top of ANDREW S with a 
 gesture almost of shyness) I know that, too, Andy. 
 
 ANDREW. I ll miss you as much as anybody, I guess. You 
 see, you and I ain t like most brothers always fighting and 
 separated a lot of the time, while we ve always been together 
 just the two of us. It s different with us. That s why 
 it hits so hard, I guess. 
 
 ROBERT, (with feeling) It s just as hard for me, Andy 
 believe that! I hate to leave you and the old folks but 
 
 I feel I ve got to. There s something calling me (He 
 
 points to the horizon) Oh, I can t just explain it to you, Andy. 
 
 ANDREW. No need to, Rob. (Angry at himself) Hell! 
 You want to go that s all there is to it; and I wouldn t 
 have you miss this chance for the world. 
 
 ROBERT. It s fine of you to feel that way, Andy. 
 ANDREW. Huh! I d be a nice son-of-a-gun if I didn t, 
 wouldn t I? When I know how you need this sea trip to 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 19 
 
 make a new man of you in the body, I mean and give you 
 your full health back. 
 
 ROBERT, (a trifle impatiently) All of you seem to keep 
 harping on my health. You were so used to seeing me lying 
 around the house in the old days that you never will get over 
 the notion that I m a chronic invalid. You don t realize how 
 I ve bucked up in the past few years. If I had no other 
 excuse for going on Uncle Dick s ship but just my health, I d 
 stay right here and start in plowing. 
 
 ANDREW. Can t be done. Farming ain t your nature. There s 
 all the difference shown in just the way us two feel about the 
 farm. You well, you like the home part of it, I expect; 
 but as a place to work and grow things, you hate it. Ain t 
 that right? 
 
 ROBERT. Yes, I suppose it is. For you it s different. You re 
 a Mayo through and through. You re wedded to the soil, 
 You re as much a product of it as an ear of corn is, or a tree. 
 Father is the same. This farm is his life-work, and he s happy 
 in knowing that another Mayo, inspired by the same love, will 
 take up the work where he leaves off. I can understand your 
 attitude, and Pa s; and I think it s wonderful and sincere. 
 But I well, I m not made that way. 
 
 ANDREW. No, you ain t ; but when it comes to understand 
 ing, I guess I realize that you ve got your own angle of look 
 ing at things. 
 
 ROBERT, {musingly) I wonder if you do, really. 
 
 ANDREW, {confidently) Sure I do. You ve seen a bit of 
 the world, enough to make the farm seem small, and you ve 
 got the itch to see it all. 
 
 ROBERT. It s more than that, Andy. 
 
20 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ANDREW. Oh, of course. I know you re going to learn navi 
 gation, and all about a ship, so s you can be an officer. That s 
 natural, too. There s fair pay in it, I expect, when you con 
 sider that you ve always got a home and grub thrown in; and 
 if you re set on traveling, you can go anywhere you re a mind 
 to without paying fare. 
 
 ROBERT. (with a smile that is half sad) It s more than 
 that, Andy. 
 
 ANDREW. Sure it is. There s always a chance of a good thing 
 coming your way in some of those foreign ports or other. I ve 
 heard there are great opportunities for a young fellow with 
 his eyes open in some of those new countries that are just 
 being opened up. (Jovially) I ll bet that s what you ve been 
 turning over in your mind under all your quietness ! (He slaps 
 his brother on the back with a laugh) Well, if you get to be 
 a millionaire all of a sudden, call round once in a while and 
 I ll pass the plate to you. We could use a lot of money right 
 here on the farm without hurting it any. 
 
 ROBERT, (forced to laugh) I ve never considered that prac 
 tical side of it for a minute, Andy. 
 
 ANDREW. Well, you ought to. 
 
 ROBERT. No, I oughtn t. (Pointing to the horizon dreamily) 
 Supposing I was to tell you that it s just Beauty that s call 
 ing me, the beauty of the far off and unknown, the mystery 
 and spell of the East which lures me in the books I ve read, the 
 need of the freedom of great wide spaces, the joy of wan 
 dering on and on in quest of the secret which is hidden over 
 there, beyond the horizon? Suppose I told you that was the 
 one and only reason for my going? 
 
 ANDREW. I should say you were nutty. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 21 
 
 ROBERT, (frowning) Don t, Andy. I m serious. 
 
 ANDREW. Then you might as well stay here, because we ve 
 got all you re looking for right on this farm. There s wide 
 space enough, Lord knows; and you can have all the sea you 
 want by walking a mile down to the beach; and there s plenty 
 of horizon to look at, and beauty enough for anyone, except 
 in the winter. (He grins) As for the mystery and spell, 
 I haven t met em yet, but they re probably lying around some- 
 wheres. I ll have you understand this is a first class farm 
 with all the fixings. (He laughs). 
 
 ROBERT, (joining in the laughter in spite of himself) It s 
 no use talking to you, you chump ! 
 
 ANDREW. You d better not say anything to Uncle Dick 
 about spells and things when you re on the ship. He ll likely 
 chuck you overboard for a Jonah. (He jumps down from fence) 
 I d better run along. I ve got to wash up some as long as 
 Ruth s Ma is coming over for supper. 
 
 ROBERT, (pointedly almost bitterly) And Ruth. 
 
 ANDREW, (confused looking everywhere except at ROBERT 
 trying to appear unconcerned) Yes, Ruth ll be staying too. 
 
 Well, I better hustle, I guess, and (He steps over the 
 
 ditch to the road while he is talking). 
 
 ROBERT, (who appears to be fighting some strong inward 
 emotion impulsively) Wait a minute, Andy! (He jumps 
 
 down from the fence) There is something I want to (He 
 
 stops abruptly, biting his lips, his face coloring). 
 
 ANDREW, (facing him; half-defiantly) Yes? 
 
 ROBERT, (confusedly) No never mind it doesn t 
 
 matter, it was nothing. 
 
 ANDREW, (after a pause, during which he stares fixedly at 
 
22 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ROBERT S averted face) Maybe I can guess what you were 
 
 going to say but I guess you re right not to talk about 
 
 it. (He pulls ROBERT S hand from his side and grips it tensely; 
 the two brothers stand looking into each other s eyes for a 
 minute) We can t help those things, Rob. (1 e turns away, 
 suddenly releasing ROBERT S hand) You ll be coming along 
 shortly, won t you ? 
 
 ROBERT, (dully) Yes. 
 
 ANDREW. See you later, then. (He walks off down the 
 road to the left. ROBERT stares after him for a moment; then 
 climbs to the fence rail again, and looks out over the hills, an 
 expression of deep grief on his face. After a moment or so, 
 RUTH enters hurriedly from the left. She is a healthy, blonde, 
 out-of-door girl of twenty, with a graceful, slender fgure. Her 
 face, though inclined to roundness, is undeniably pretty, its 
 large eyes of a deep blue set off strikingly by the sun-bronzed 
 complexion. Her small, regular features are marked by a 
 certain strength an underlying, stubborn fixity of purpose hid 
 den In the frankly-appealing charm of her fresh youth fulness. 
 She wears a simple ^hlt^dress but no hat). 
 
 RUTH, (seeing him) Hello, Rob! 
 
 ROBERT, (startled) Hello, Ruth ! 
 
 RUTH, (jumps the ditch and perches on the fence beside 
 him) I was looking for you. 
 
 ROBERT, (pointedly) Andy just left here. 
 
 RUTH. I know. I met him on the road a second ago. He 
 told me you were here. (Tenderly playful) I wasn t look 
 ing for Andy, Smarty, if that s what you mean. I was looking 
 for you. 
 
 ROBERT. Because I m going away tomorrow? 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 23 
 
 RUTH. Because your mother was anxious to have you come 
 home and asked me to look for you. I just wheeled Ma over 
 to your house. 
 
 ROBERT, (perfunctorily) How is your mother? 
 
 RUTH, (a shadow coming over her face) She s about the 
 same. She never seems to get any better or any worse. Oh, 
 Rob, I do wish she d try to make the best of things that can t 
 be helped. 
 
 ROBERT. Has she been nagging at you again? 
 
 RUTH, (nods her head f and then breaks forth rebelliously) 
 She never stops nagging. No matter what I do for her she 
 
 finds fault. If only Pa was still living (She stops as if 
 
 ashamed of her outburst) I suppose I shouldn t complain 
 this way. (She sighs) Poor Ma, Lord knows it s hard enough 
 for her. I suppose it s natural to be cross when you re not 
 able ever to walk a step. Oh, I d like to be going away some 
 place like you ! 
 
 ROBERT. It s hard to stay and equally hard to go, some 
 times. 
 
 RUTH. There! If I m not the stupid body! I swore I 
 wasn t going to speak about your trip until after you d gone; 
 and there I go, first thing! 
 
 ROBERT. Why didn t you want to speak of it? 
 
 RUTH. Because I didn t want to spoil this last night you re 
 here. Oh, Rob, I m going to we re all going to miss you so 
 awfully. Your mother is going around looking as if she d burst 
 out crying any minute. You ought to know how I feel. Andy 
 and you and I why it seems as if we d always been together. 
 
 ROBERT, (with a wry attempt at a smile) You and Andy 
 
24 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 will still have each other. It ll be harder for me without 
 anyone. 
 
 RUTH. But you ll have new sights and new people to take 
 your mind off; while we ll be here with the old, familiar place 
 to remind us every minute of the day. It s a shame you re 
 going just at this time, in spring, when everything is get 
 ting so nice. (With a sigh) I oughtn t to talk that way when 
 I know going s the best thing for you. You re bound to find 
 all sorts of opportunities to get on, your father says. 
 
 ROBERT, (heatedly) I don t give a damn about that! I 
 wouldn t take a voyage across the road for the best opportu 
 nity in the world of the kind Pa thinks of. (Pie smiles at his 
 own irritation) Excuse me, Ruth, for getting worked up over 
 it; but Andy gave me an overdose of the practical considera 
 tions. 
 
 RUTH, (slowly, puzzled) Well, then, if it isn t (With 
 
 sudden intensity) Oh, Rob, why do you want to go? 
 
 ROBERT, (turning to her quickly, in surprise slowly) Why 
 do you ask that, Ruth? 
 
 RUTH, (dropping her eyes before his searching glance) Be 
 cause (Lamely) It seems such a shame. 
 
 ROBERT, (insistently) Why? 
 
 RUTH. Oh, because everything. 
 
 ROBERT. I could hardly back out now, even if I wanted to. 
 And I ll be forgotten before you know it. 
 
 RUTH, (indignantly) You won t ! I ll never forget 
 
 (She stops and turns away to hide her confusion). 
 
 ROBERT, (softly) Will you promise me that? 
 
 RUTH, (evasively) Of course. It s mean of you to think 
 that any of us would forget so easily. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 25 
 
 ROBERT, (disappointedly} Oh! 
 
 RUTH, (with an attempt at lightness) But you haven t told 
 me your reason for leaving yet? 
 
 ROBERT, (moodily) I doubt if you ll understand. It s dif 
 ficult to explain, even to myself. Either you feel it, or you 
 don t. I can remember being conscious of it first when I was 
 only a kid you haven t forgotten what a sickly specimen I 
 was then, in those days, have you? 
 
 RUTH, (with a shudder) Let s not think about them. 
 
 ROBERT. You ll have to, to understand. Well, in those days, 
 when Ma was fixing meals, she used to get me out of the way 
 by pushing my chair to the west window and telling me to look 
 out and be quiet. That wasn t hard. I guess I was always 
 quiet. 
 
 RUTH, (compassionately) Yes, you always were and you 
 suffering so much, too ! 
 
 ROBERT, (musingly) So I used to stare out over the fields 
 to the hills, out there (He points to the horizon) and some 
 how after a time I d forget any pain I was in, and start 
 dreaming. I knew the sea was over beyond those hills, the 
 folks had told me and I used to wonder what the sea was 
 like, and try to form a picture of it in my mind. (With a 
 smile) There was all the mystery in the world to me then 
 about that far-off sea and there still is ! It called to me 
 then just as it does now. (After a slight pause) And other 
 times my eyes would follow this road, winding off into the 
 distance, toward the hills, as if it, too, was searching for the 
 sea. And I d promise myself that when I grew up and was 
 strong, I d follow that road, and it and I would find the sea 
 
26 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 together. (With a smile) You see, my making this trip is 
 only keeping that promise of long ago. 
 
 RUTH (charmed by his low, musical voice telling the dreams 
 of his childhood) Yes, I see. 
 
 ROBERT. Those were the only happy moments of my life 
 then, dreaming there at the window. I liked to be all alone 
 those times. I got to know all the different kinds of sun 
 sets by heart. And all those sunsets took place over there 
 (He points) beyond the horizon. So gradually I came to be 
 lieve that all the wonders of the world happened on the other 
 side of those hills. There was the home of the good fairies 
 who performed beautiful miracles. I believed in fairies then. 
 (With a smile) Perhaps I still do believe in them. Anyway, 
 in those days they were real enough, and sometimes I could 
 actually hear them calling to me to come out and play with 
 them, dance with them down the road in the dusk in a game 
 of hide-and-seek to find out where the sun was hiding himself. 
 They sang their little songs to me, songs that told of all the 
 wonderful things they had in their home on the other side of 
 the hills; and they promised to show me all of them, if I d 
 only come, come ! But I couldn t come then, and I used to 
 cry sometimes and Ma would think I was in pain. (He breaks 
 off suddenly with a laugh) That s why I m going now, I 
 suppose. For I can still hear them calling. But the horizon 
 is as far away and as luring as ever. (He turns to her 
 softly) Do you understand now, Ruth? 
 
 RUTH, (spellbound, in a whisper) Yes. 
 
 ROBERT. You feel it then? 
 
 RUTH. Yes, yes, I do! (Unconsciously she snuggles close 
 against his side. His arm steals about her as if he were not 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 27 
 
 aware of the action} Oh, Rob, how could I help feeling it? 
 You tell things so beautifully! 
 
 ROBERT, {suddenly realizing that his arm is around her, 
 and that her head is resting on his shoulder, gently takes his 
 arm away. RUTH, brought back to herself, is overcome with 
 confusion} So now you know why I m going. It s for that 
 reason that and one other. 
 
 RUTH. You ve another? Then you must tell me that, too. 
 
 ROBERT, (looking at her searchingly. She drops her eyes 
 before his gaze} I wonder if I ought to ! You ll promise not 
 to be angry whatever it is? 
 
 RUTH, {softly, her face still averted} Yes, I promise. 
 
 ROBERT, {simply} I love you. That s the other reason. 
 
 RUTH, (hiding her face in her hands} Oh, Rob! 
 
 ROBERT. I wasn t going to tell you, but I feel I have to. It 
 can t matter now that I m going so far away, and for so 
 long perhaps forever. I ve loved you all these years, but 
 the realization never came til I agreed to go away with Uncle 
 Dick. Then I thought of leaving you, and the pain of that 
 thought revealed to me in a flash that I loved you, had loved 
 you as long as I could remember. {He gently pulls one of 
 RUTH S hands away from her face} You mustn t mind my 
 telling you this, Ruth. I realize how impossible it all is 
 and I understand; for the revelation of my own love seemed 
 to open my eyes to the love of others. I saw Andy s love for 
 you and I knew that you must love him. 
 
 RUTH, {breaking out stormily} I don t ! I don t love Andy ! 
 I don t! (ROBERT stares at her in stupid astonishment. RUTH 
 weeps hysterically} Whatever put such a fool notion into 
 into your head? (She suddenly throws her arms about his neck 
 
28 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 and hides her head on his shoulder} Oh, Rob ! Don t go 
 away! Please! You mustn t, now! You can t! I won t let 
 you! It d break my my heart ! 
 
 ROBERT. (The expression of stupid bewilderment giving way 
 to one of overwhelming joy. He presses her close to him 
 slowly and tenderly} Do you mean that that you love me? 
 
 RUTH, (sobbing} Yes, yes of course I do what d you 
 s pose? (She lifts up her head and looks into his eyes with 
 a tremulous smile} You stupid thing! (He kisses her} I ve 
 loved you right along. 
 
 ROBERT, (mystified} But you and Andy were always to 
 gether ! 
 
 RUTH. Because you never seemed to want to go any place 
 with me. You were always reading an old book, and not pay 
 ing any attention to me. I was too proud to let you see I 
 cared because I thought the year you had away to college 
 had made you stuck-up, and you thought yourself too educated 
 to waste any time on me. 
 
 ROBERT, (kissing her} And I was thinking (With a 
 
 laugh} What fools we ve both been! 
 
 RUTH, (overcome by a sudden fear} You won t go away 
 on the trip, will you, Rob? You ll tell them you can t go on 
 account of me, won t you? You can t go now! You can t! 
 
 ROBERT, (bewildered} Perhaps you can come too. 
 
 RUTH. Oh, Rob, don t be so foolish. You know I can t. 
 Who d take care of ma? Don t you see I couldn t go on her 
 account? (She clings to him imploringly} Please don t go 
 not now. Tell them you ve decided not to. They won t mind. 
 I know your mother and father 11 be glad. They ll all be. They 
 don t want you to go so far away from them. Please, Rob! 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 29 
 
 We ll be so happy here together where it s natural and we know 
 things. Please tell me you won t go! 
 
 ROBERT, {face tr face with a definite, final decision, betrays 
 the conflict going on within him) But Ruth I Uncle 
 Dick 
 
 RUTH. He won t mind when he knows it s for your happiness 
 to stay. How could he? (As ROBERT remains silent she bursts 
 into sobs again) Oh, Rob! And you said you loved me! 
 
 ROBERT, (conquered by this appeal an irrevocable decision 
 in his voice) I won t go, Ruth. I promise you. There ! Don t 
 cry ! (He presses her to him, stroking her hair tenderly. After 
 a pause he speaks with happy hopefulness) Perhaps after all 
 Andy was right righter than he knew when he said I could 
 find all the things I was seeking for here, at home on the farm. 
 I think love must have been the secret the secret that called 
 to me from over the world s rim the secret beyond every 
 horizon; and when I did not come, it came to me. (He clasps 
 RUTH to him fiercely) Oh, Ruth, our love is sweeter than any 
 distant dream! (He kisses her passionately and steps to the 
 ground, lifting RUTH in his arms and carrying her to the road 
 where he puts her down). 
 
 RUTH, (with a happy laugh) My, but you re strong!-*" 
 
 ROBERT. Come ! We ll go and tell them at once. 
 
 RUTH, (dismayed) Oh, no, don t, Rob, not til after I ve 
 gone. There d be bound to be such a scene with them all 
 together. 
 
 ROBERT, (kissing her gayly) As you like little Miss Com 
 mon Sense ! 
 
 RUTH. Let s go, then. (She takts his hand, and they start 
 
30 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 to go off left. ROBERT suddenly stops and turns as though for 
 a last look at the hills and the dying sunset flush). 
 
 ROBERT, (looking upward and pointing) See! The first 
 star. (He bends down and kisses her tenderly) Our star! 
 
 RUTH, (in a soft murmur) Yes. Our very own star. (They 
 stand for a moment looking up at it, their arms around each 
 other. Then RUTH takes his hand again and starts to lead him 
 away) Come, Rob, let s go. (His eyes are fixed again on the 
 horizon as he half turns to follow her. RUTH urges) We ll be 
 late for supper, Rob. 
 
 ROBERT, (shakes his head impatiently , as though he were 
 throwing off some disturbing thought with a laugh) All right. 
 We ll run then. Come on! (They run off laughing as 
 
 (The Curtain Falls) 
 
ACT ONE 
 
 SCENE Two 
 
 The sitting room of the Mayo farm house about nine 
 o clock the same night. On the left, two windows looking out 
 on the fields. Against the wall between the windows, an old- 
 fashioned walnut desk. In the left corner, rear, a sideboard 
 with a mirror. In the rear wall to the right of the sideboard^ 
 a window looking out on the road. Next to the window a door 
 leading out into the yard. Farther right, a black horse-hair 
 sofa, and another door opening on a bedroom. In the corner, 
 a straight-backed chair. In the right wall, near the middle, an 
 open doorway leading to the kitchen. Farther forward a double- 
 heater stove with coal scuttle, etc. In the center of the newly 
 carpeted floor, an oak dining-room table with a red cover. In 
 the center of the table, a large oil reading lamp. Four chairs, 
 three rockers with crocheted tidies on their backs, and one 
 straight-backed, are placed about the table. The walls are 
 papered a dark red with a scrolly-figured pattern. 
 
 Everything in the room is clean, well-kept, and in its exact 
 place, yet there is no suggestion of primness about the whole. 
 Rather the atmosphere is one of the orderly comfort of a simple, 
 hard-earned prosperity, enjoyed and maintained by the family 
 as a unit. 
 
 JAMES MAYO, his wife, her brother, CAPTAIN DICK SCOTT, and 
 ANDREW are discovered. MAYO is his son ANDREW over again 
 
 in body and face an ANDREW sixty-five years old with a short t 
 
 31 
 
32 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 square, white beard. MRS. MAYO is a slight, round-faced, rather 
 prim-looking woman of fifty-fve who had once been a school 
 teacher. The labors of a farmer s wife have bent but not broken 
 her, and she retains a certain refinement of movement and ex 
 pression foreign to the MAYO part of the family. Whatever of 
 resemblance ROBERT has to his parents may be traced to her. 
 Her brother, the CAPTAIN, is short and stocky, with a weather- 
 beaten, jovial face and a white mustache a typical old salt, 
 loud of voice and given to gesture. He is fifty-eight years old. 
 
 JAMES MAYO sits in front of the table. He wears spectacles, 
 and a farm journal which he has been reading lies in his lap. 
 THE CAPTAIN leans forward from a chair in the rear, his hands 
 on the table in front of him. ANDREW is tilted back on the 
 straight-backed chair to the left, his chin sunk forward on his 
 chest, staring at the carpet, preoccupied and frowning. 
 
 As the Curtain rises the CAPTAIN is just finishing the relation 
 of some sea episode. The others are pretending an interest 
 which is belied by the absent-minded expressions on their faces. 
 
 THE CAPTAIN, (chuckling) And that mission woman, she 
 hails me on the dock as I was acomin ashore, and she says 
 with her silly face all screwed up serious as judgment "Cap 
 tain," she says, "would you be so kind as to tell me where the 
 sea-gulls sleeps at nights?" Blow me if them warn t her exact 
 words ! (He slaps the table with the palm of his hands and 
 laughs loudly. The others force smiles} Ain t that just like a 
 fool woman s question? And I looks at her serious as I could, 
 "Ma m," says I, "I couldn t rightly answer that question. I ain t 
 never seed a sea-gull in his bunk yet. The next time I hears one 
 snorin ," I says, "I ll make a note of where he s turned in, and 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 33 
 
 write you a letter bout it." And then she calls me a fool real 
 spiteful and tacks away from me quick, (tie laughs again up 
 roariously} So I got rid of her that way. (The others smile 
 but immediately relapse into expressions of gloom again}. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. (absent-mindedly feeling that she has to say 
 something) But when it comes to that, where do sea-gulls sleep, 
 Dick? 
 
 SCOTT, (slapping the table) Ho! Ho! Listen to her, James. 
 Nother one! Well, if that don t beat all hell scuse me for 
 cussin , Kate. 
 
 MAYO, (with a twinkle in his eyes) They unhitch their 
 wings, Katey, and spreads em out on a wave for a bed. 
 
 SCOTT. And then they tells the fish to whistle to em when 
 it s time to turn out. Ho ! Ho ! 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (with a forced smile) You men folks are too 
 smart to live, aren t you? (She resumes her knitting. MAYO 
 pretends to read his paper; ANDREW stares at the floor). 
 
 SCOTT. (looks from one to the other of them with a puzzled 
 air. Finally he is unable to bear the thick silence a minute 
 longer, and blurts out) : You folks look as if you was settin 
 up with a corpse. (With exaggerated concern) God A mighty, 
 there ain t anyone dead, be there? 
 
 MAYO, (sharply) Don t play the dunce, Dick! You know 
 as well as we do there ain t no great cause to be feelin chipper. 
 
 SCOTT, (argumentatively) And there ain t no cause to be 
 wearin mourning, either, I can make out. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (indignantly) How can you talk that way, 
 Dick Scott, when you re taking our Robbie away from us, in 
 tfie middle of the night, you might say, just to get on that old 
 
34 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 boat of yours on time! I think you might wait until morning 
 when he s had his breakfast. 
 
 SCOTT, (appealing to the others hopelessly) Ain t that a 
 woman s way o seein things for you? God A mighty, Kate, 
 I can t give orders to the tide that it s got to be high just when 
 it suits me to have it. I ain t gettin no fun out o missin sleep 
 and leavin here at six bells myself. (Protestingly) And the 
 Sunda ain t an old ship leastways, not very old and she s 
 good s she ever was. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (her lips trembling) I wish Robbie weren t 
 going. 
 
 MAYO, (looking at her over his glasses consolingly) There, 
 Katey ! 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (rebelliously) Well, I do wish he wasn t! 
 
 SCOTT. You shouldn t be taking it so hard, s far as I kin 
 see. This vige ll make a man of him. I ll see to it he learns 
 how to navigate, n study for a mate s c tificate right off and 
 it ll give him a trade for the rest of his life, if he wants to travel. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. But I don t want him to travel all his life. 
 You ve got to see he comes home when this trip is over. Then 
 he ll be all well, and he ll want to to marry (ANDREW sits 
 forward in his chair with an abrupt movement) and settle down 
 right here. (She stares down at the knitting in her lap after 
 a pause) I never realized how hard it was going to be for me 
 to have Robbie go or I wouldn t have considered it a minute. 
 
 SCOTT. It ain t no good goin on that way, Kate, now it s 
 all settled. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (on the verge of tears) It s all right for you 
 to talk. You ve never had any children. You don t know 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 35 
 
 what it means to be parted from them and Robbie my youngest, 
 too. (ANDREW frowns and fidgets in his chair). 
 
 ANDREW, (suddenly turning to them) There s one thing 
 none of you seem to take into consideration that Rob wants 
 to go. He s dead set on it. He s been dreaming over this trip 
 ever since it was first talked about. It wouldn t be fair to him 
 not to have him go. (A sudden uneasiness seems to strike him) 
 At least, not if he still feels the same way about it he did 
 when he was talking to me this evening. 
 
 MAYO, (with an air of decision) Andy s right, Katey. That 
 ends all argyment, you can see that. (Looking at his big silver 
 watch) Wonder what s happened to Robert? He s been gone 
 long enough to wheel the widder to home, certain. He can t 
 be out dreamin at the stars his last night. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (a bit reproachfully) Why didn t you wheel 
 Mrs. Atkins back tonight, Andy ? You usually do when she and 
 Ruth come over. 
 
 ANDREW, (avoiding her eyes) I thought maybe Robert 
 wanted to tonight. He offered to go right away when they 
 were leaving. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. He only wanted to be polite. 
 
 ANDREW, (gets to his feet) Well, he ll be right back, 1 
 guess. (He turns to his father) Gue^s I ll go take a look 
 at the black cow, Pa see if she s ailing any. 
 
 MAYO. Yes better had, son. (ANDREW goes into the kitchen 
 on the right). 
 
 SCOTT, (as he goes out in a low tone) There s the boy 
 that would make a good, strong sea-farin man if he d a mind to. 
 
 MAYO, (sharply) Don t you put no such fool notions in 
 Andy s head, Dick or you n me s goin to fall out. (Then he 
 
36 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 smiles ) You couldn t tempt him, no ways. Andy s a Mayo 
 bred in the bone, and he s a born farmer, and a damn good one, 
 too. He ll live and die right here on this farm, like I expect to. 
 (With proud confidence) And he ll make this one of the slick 
 est, best-payin farms in the state, too, afore he gits through! 
 
 SCOTT. Seems to me it s a pretty slick place right now. 
 
 MAYO, (shaking his head) It s too small. We need more 
 land to make it amount to much, and we ain t got the capital 
 to buy it. (ANDREW enters from the kitchen. His hat is on, 
 and he carries a lighted lantern in his hand. He goes to the 
 door in the rear leading out). 
 
 ANDREW, (opens the door and pauses) Anything else you 
 can think of to be done, Pa ? 
 
 MAYO. No, nothin I know of. (ANDREW goes out, shutting 
 the door}. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (after a pause} What s come over Andy tonight, 
 I wonder? He acts so strange. 
 
 MAYO. He does seem sort o glum and out of sorts. It s 
 count o Robert leavin , I s pose. (To SCOTT) Dick, you 
 wouldn t believe how them boys o mine sticks together. They 
 ain t like most brothers. They ve been thick as thieves all their 
 lives, with nary a quarrel I kin remember. 
 
 SCOTT. No need to tell me that. I can see how they take 
 to each other. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (pursuing her train of thought} Did you notice, 
 James, how queer everyone was at supper? Robert seemed 
 stirred up about something; and Ruth was so flustered and 
 giggly; and Andy sat there dumb, looking as if he d lost his 
 best friend; and all of them only nibbled at their food. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 37 
 
 MAYO. Guess they was all thinkin about tomorrow, same 
 as us. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (shaking her head) No. I m afraid somethin s 
 happened somethin else. 
 
 MAYO. You mean bout Ruth? 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Yes. 
 
 MAYO, (after a pause frowning) I hope her and Andy 
 ain t had a serious fallin -out. I always sorter hoped they d 
 hitch up together sooner or later. What d you say, Dick? Don t 
 you think them two d pair up well? 
 
 SCOTT, (nodding his head approvingly) A sweet, whole 
 some couple they d make. 
 
 MAYO. It d be a good thing for Andy in more ways than 
 one. I ain t what you d call calculatin generally, and I b lieve 
 in lettin young folks run their affairs to suit themselves; but 
 there s advantages for both o them in this match you can t 
 overlook in reason. The Atkins farm is right next to ourn. 
 Jined together they d make a jim-dandy of a place, with plenty 
 o room to work in. And bein a widder with only a daughter, 
 and laid up all the time to boot, Mrs. Atkins can t do nothin 
 with the place as it ought to be done. She needs a man, a 
 first-class farmer, to take hold o things; and Andy s just the one. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (abruptly) I don t think Ruth loves Andy. 
 
 MAYO. You don t? Well, maybe a woman s eyes is sharper 
 in such things, but they re always together. And if she don t 
 love him now, she ll likely come around to it in time. (As MRS. 
 MAYO shakes her head) You seem mighty fixed in your opinion, 
 Katey. How d you know ? 
 
 MRS. MAYO. It s just what I feel. 
 
 MAYO, (a light breaking over him) You don t mean to say 
 
38 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 (MRS. MAYO nods. MAYO chuckles scornfully) Shucks ! I m 
 losin my respect for your eyesight, Katey. Why, Robert ain t 
 got no time for Ruth, cept as a friend ! 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (warningly) Sss-h-h ! (The door from the yard 
 opens, and ROBERT enters. He is smiling happily, and humming 
 a song to himself, but as he comes into the room an undercurrent 
 of nervous uneasiness manifests itself in his bearing). 
 
 MAYO. So here you be at last! (ROBERT comes forward and 
 sits on ANDY S chair. MAYO smiles slyly at his wife) What 
 have you been doin all this time countin the stars to see if 
 they all come out right and proper? 
 
 ROBERT. There s only one I ll ever look for any more, Pa. 
 
 MAYO, (reproachfully) You might ve even not wasted time 
 lookin for that one your last night. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (as if she were speaking to a child) You ought 
 to have worn your coat a sharp night like this, Robbie. 
 
 SCOTT, (disgustedly) God A mighty, Kate, you treat Rob 
 ert as if he was one year old ! 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (notices ROBERT S nervous uneasiness) You 
 look all worked up over something, Robbie. What is it? 
 
 ROBERT, (swallowing hard, looks quickly from one to the 
 other of them then begins determinedly) Yes, there is some 
 thing something I must tell you all of you. (As he begins 
 to talk ANDREW enters quietly from the rear, closing the door 
 behind him, and setting the lighted lantern on the floor. He 
 remains standing by the door, his arms folded, listening to 
 ROBERT with a repressed expression of pain on his face. ROBERT 
 is so much taken up with what he is going to say that he does 
 not notice ANDREW S presence.) Something I discovered only this 
 evening very beautiful and wonderful something I did not 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 39 
 
 take into consideration previously because I hadn t dared to 
 hope that such happiness could ever come to me. (Appealingly) 
 You must all remember that fact, won t you ? 
 
 MAYO, (frowning) Let s get to the point, son. 
 
 ROBERT, (with a trace of defiance) Well, the point is this, 
 Pa: I m not going I mean I can t go tomorrow with Uncle 
 Dick or at any future time, either. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (with a sharp sigh of joyful relief) Oh, Robbie, 
 I m so glad ! 
 
 MAYO, (astounded) You ain t serious, be you, Robert? (Se 
 verely) Seems to me it s a pretty late hour in the day for you 
 to be upscttin all your plans so sudden ! 
 
 ROBERT. I asked you to remember that until this evening I 
 didn t know myself. I had never dared to dream 
 
 MAYO, (irritably) What is this foolishness you re talkin of? 
 
 ROBERT, (flushing) Ruth told me this evening that she 
 loved me. It was after I d confessed I loved her. I told her 
 I hadn t been conscious of my love until after the trip had 
 been arranged, and I realized it would mean leaving her. 
 That was the truth. I didn t know until then. (As if justifying 
 himself to the others) I hadn t intended telling her anything 
 but suddenly I felt I must. I didn t think it would matter, 
 because I was going away. And I thought she loved someone 
 else. (Slowly his eyes shining) And then she cried and said 
 it was I she d loved all the time, but I hadn t seen it. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (rushes over and throws her arms about him) 
 I knew it! I was just telling your father when you came in 
 and, Oh, Robbie, I m so happy you re not going! 
 
 ROBERT, (kissing her) I knew you d be glad, Ma. 
 
 MAYO, (bewilderedly) Well, I ll be damned ! You do beat 
 
40 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 all for gettin folks minds all tangled up, Robert. And Ruth 
 too ! Whatever got into her of a sudden ? Why, I was 
 thinkin 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (hurriedly in a tone of warning) Never mind 
 what you were thinking, James. It wouldn t be any use telling 
 us that now. (Meaningly) And what you were hoping for 
 turns out just the same almost, doesn t it? 
 
 MAYO, (thoughtfully beginning to see this side of the argu 
 ment) Yes; I suppose you re right, Katey. (Scratching his 
 head in puzzlement) But how it ever come about! It do beat^ 
 anything ever I heard. (Finally he gets up with a sheepish 
 grin and walks over to ROBERT) We re glad you ain t goin , 
 your Ma and I, for we d have missed you terrible, that s certain 
 and sure ; and we re glad you ve found happiness. Ruth s a fine 
 girl and ll make a good wife to you. 
 
 ROBERT, (much moved) Thank you, Pa. (He grips his 
 father s hand in his). 
 
 ANDREW, (his face tense and drawn comes forward and holds 
 out his hand, forcing a smile) I guess it s my turn to offer 
 congratulations, isn t it? 
 
 ROBERT, (with a startled cry when his brother appears before 
 him so suddenly) Andy! (Confused) Why I I didn t see 
 you. Were you here when 
 
 ANDREW. I heard everything you said ; and here s wishing you 
 every happiness, you and Ruth. You both deserve the best 
 there is. . 
 
 ROBERT, (taking his hand) Thanks, Andy, it s fine of you 
 
 to (His voice dies away as he sees the pain in ANDREW S 
 
 eyes). 
 
 ANDREW, (giving his brother s hand a final grip) Good luck 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 
 
 to you both ! (He turns away and goes back to the rear where 
 he bends over the lantern, fumbling with it to hide his emotion 
 from the others). 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (to the CAPTAIN, who ha* been too flabbergasted 
 by ROBERT S decision to say a word) What s the matter, Dick? 
 Aren t you going to congratulate Robbie? 
 
 SCOTT, (embarrassed) Of course I be! (He gets to his 
 feet and shakes ROBERT S hand, muttering a rogue) Luck to 
 you, boy. (He stands beside ROBERT as if he wanted to say 
 something more but doesn t know how to go about it). 
 
 ROBERT. Thanks, Uncle Dick. 
 
 SCOTT. So you re not acomin on the Sunda with me? (His 
 voice indicates disbelief). 
 
 ROBERT. I can t, Uncle not now. I wouldn t miss it for 
 anything else in the world under any other circumstances. (He 
 sighs unconsciously) But you see I ve found a bigger dream. 
 (Then with joyous high spirits) I want you all to understand 
 one thing I m not going to be a loafer on your hands any 
 longer. This means the beginning of a new life for me in every 
 way. I m going to settle right down and take a real interest 
 in the farm, and do my share. I ll prove to you, Pa, that I m 
 as good a Mayo as you are or Andy, when I want to be. 
 
 MAYO, (kindly but skeptically) That s the right spirit, Rob 
 ert. Ain t none of us doubts your willin ness, but you ain t 
 never learned 
 
 ROBERT. Then I m going to start learning right away, and 
 you ll teach me, won t you? 
 
 MAYO, (mollifyingly) Of course I will, boy, and be glad 
 to, only you d best go easy at first. 
 
 SCOTT, (who has listened to this conversation in mingled 
 
PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 consternation and amazement) You don t mean to tell me you re 
 goin to let him stay, do you, James? 
 
 MAYO. Why, things bein as they be, Robert s free to do as 
 he s a mind to. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Let him! The very idea! 
 
 SCOTT, (more and more ruffled) Then all I got to say is, 
 you re a soft, weak-willed critter to be permittin a boy and 
 women, too to be layin your course for you wherever they 
 damn pleases. 
 
 MAYO, (slyly amused) It s just the same with me as twas 
 with you, Dick. You can t order the tides on the seas to suit 
 you, and I ain t pretendin I can reg late love for young folks. 
 
 SCOTT, (scornfully) Love! They ain t old enough to know 
 love when they sight it! Love! I m ashamed of you, Robert, 
 to go lettin a little huggin and kissin in the dark spile your 
 chances to make a man out o yourself. It ain t common sense 
 no siree, it ain t not by a hell of a sight ! (He pounds the 
 table with his fists in exasperation). 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (laughing provokingly at her brother) A fine 
 one you are to be talking about love, Dick an old cranky 
 bachelor like you. Goodness sakes ! 
 
 SCOTT, (exasperated by their joking) I ve never been a 
 damn fool like most, if that s what you re steerin at. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (tauntingly) Sour grapes, aren t they, Dick? 
 (She laughs. ROBERT and his father chuckle. SCOTT sputters 
 with annoyance) Good gracious, Dick, you do act silly, flying 
 into a temper over nothing. 
 
 SCOTT, (indignantly) Nothin ! You talk as if I wasn t con 
 cerned nohow in this here business. Seems to me I ve got a 
 right to have my say. Ain t I made all arrangements with the 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 43 
 
 owners and stocked up with some special grub all on Robert s 
 account ? 
 
 ROBERT. You ve been fine, Uncle Dick; and I appreciate it. 
 Truly. 
 
 MAYO. Course; we all does, Dick. 
 
 SCOTT, (unplacated) I ve been countin sure on havin Robert 
 for company on this vige to sorta talk to and show things 
 to, and teach, kinda, and I got my mind so set on havin him 
 I m goin to be double lonesome this vige. (He pounds on the 
 table, attempting to cover up this confession of weakness) 
 Darn all this silly lovin business, anyway. (Irritably) But all 
 this talk ain t tellin me what I m to do with that sta b d cabin 
 I fixed up. It s all painted white, an a bran new mattress 
 on the bunk, n new sheets n blankets V things. And Chips 
 built in a book-case so s Robert could take his books along 
 with a slidin bar fixed across t it, mind, so s they couldn t fall 
 out no matter how she rolled. (With excited consternation) 
 What d you suppose my officers is goin to think when there s 
 no one comes aboard to occupy that sta b d cabin? And the 
 men what did the work on it what ll they think? (He shakes 
 his finger indignantly) They re liable as not to suspicion it 
 was a -woman I d planned to ship along, and that she gave me the 
 go-by at the last moment ! (He wipes his perspiring brow in 
 anguish at this thought). Gawd A mighty ! They re only lookin 
 to have the laugh on me for something like that. They re liable 
 to b lieve anything, those fellers is ! 
 
 MAYO, (with a wink) Then there s nothing to it but for 
 you to get right out and hunt up a wife somewheres for that 
 spick n span cabin. She ll have to be a pretty one, too, to 
 match it. (He looks at his watch with exaggerated concern) 
 You ain t got much time to find her, Dick. 
 
44 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 SCOTT, (as the others smile sulkily) You kin go to thunder, 
 Jim Mayo! 
 
 ANDREW, (comes forward from where he has been standing 
 by the door f rear, brooding. His face is set in a look of grim 
 determination) You needn t worry about that spare cabin, Uncle 
 Dick, if you ve a mind to take me in Robert s place. 
 
 ROBERT, (turning to him quickly) Andy! (He sees at once 
 the fixed resolve in his brother s eyes f and realizes immediately 
 the reason for it in consternation) Andy, you mustn t! 
 
 ANDREW. You ve made your decision, Rob, and now I ve 
 made mine. You re out of this, remember. 
 
 ROBERT, (hurt by his brother s tone) But Andy 
 
 ANDREW. Don t interfere, Rob that s all I ask. (Turning 
 to his uncle) You haven t answered my question, Uncle Dick. 
 
 SCOTT, (clearing his throat, with an uneasy side glance at 
 JAMES MAYO who is staring at his elder son as if he thought he 
 had suddenly gone mad) O course, I d be glad to have you, 
 Andy. 
 
 ANDREW. It s settled then. I can pack the little I want to 
 take in a few minutes. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Don t be a fool, Dick. Andy s only joking you. 
 
 SCOTT, (disgruntedly) It s hard to tell who s jokin and 
 who s not in this house. 
 
 ANDREW, (firmly) I m not joking, Uncle Dick (As SCOTT 
 looks at him uncertainly) You needn t be afraid I ll go back 
 on my word. 
 
 ROBERT, (hurt by the insinuation he feels in ANDREW S tone) 
 Andy! That isn t fair! 
 
 MAYO, (frowning) Seems to me this ain t no subject to joke 
 over not for Andy. 
 
 ANDREW, (facing his father) I agree with you, Pa, and I 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 45 
 
 tell you ai r ain, once and for all, that I ve made up my mind to go. 
 
 MAYO. (dumbfounded unable to doubt the determination in 
 ANDREW S voice helplessly) But why, son? Why? 
 
 ANDREW, (evasively) I ve always wanted to go. 
 
 ROBERT. Andy ! 
 
 ANDREW, (half angrily) You shut up, Rob! (Turning to 
 his father again) I didn t ever mention it because as long as 
 Rob was going I knew it was no use; but now Rob s staying 
 on here, there isn t any reason for me not to go. 
 
 MAYO, (breathing hard) No reason? Can you stand there 
 and say that to me, Andrew? 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (hastily seeing the gathering storm) He 
 doesn t mean a word of it, James. 
 
 MAYO, (making a gesture to her to keep silence) Let me 
 talk, Katey. (In a more kindly tone) What s come over you 
 so sudden, Andy? You know s well as I do that it wouldn t 
 be fair o you to run off at a moment s notice right now when 
 we re up to our necks in hard work. 
 
 ANDREW, (avoiding his eyes) Rob ll hold his end up as soon 
 as he learns. 
 
 MAYO. Robert was never cut out for a farmer, and you was. 
 
 ANDREW. You can easily get a man to do my work. 
 
 MAYO, (restraining his anger with an effort) It sounds 
 strange to hear you, Andy, that I always thought had good 
 sense, talkin crazy like that (Scornfully) Get a man to take 
 your place! You ain t been workin here for no hire, Andy, 
 that you kin give me your notice to quit like you ve done. The 
 farm is your n as well as mine. You ve always worked on it 
 with that understanding; and what you re sayin you intend doin 
 is just skulkin out o your rightful responsibility. 
 
 ANDREW, (looking at the floor simply) I m sorry, Pa. 
 
46 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 (After a slight pause") It s no use talking any more about it. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (in relief) There ! I knew Andy d come to his 
 senses ! 
 
 ANDREW. Don t get the wrong idea, Ma. I m not backing out. 
 MAYO. You mean you re goin in spite of everythin ? 
 
 ANDREW. Yes. I m going. I ve got to. (He looks at his 
 father defiantly) I feel I oughn t to miss this chance to go out 
 into the world and see things, and I want to go. 
 
 MAYO, (with bitter scorn) So you want to go out into the 
 world and see thin s ! (His voice raised and quivering with 
 anger) I never thought I d live to see the day when a son o 
 mine d look me in the face and tell a bare-faced lie ! (Bursting 
 out) You re a liar, Andy Mayo, and a mean one to boot ! 
 
 MRS. MAYO. James ! 
 
 ROBERT. Pa ! 
 
 SCOTT. Steady there, Jim! 
 
 MAYO, (waving their protests aside) He is and he knows it. 
 
 ANDREW, (his face flushed) I won t argue with you, Pa. 
 You can think as badly of me as you like. 
 
 MAYO, (shaking his finger at ANDY, in a cold rage) You 
 know I m speakin truth that s why you re afraid to argy ! 
 You lie when you say you want to go way and see thin s ! 
 You ain t got no likin in the world to go. I ve watched you 
 grow up, and I know your ways, and they re my ways. You re 
 runnin against your own nature, and you re goin to be a mighty 
 sorry for it if you do. S if I didn t know your real reason 
 for runnin away! And runnin away s the only words to fit 
 it. You re runnin away cause you re put out and riled cause 
 your own brother s got Ruth stead o you, and 
 
 ANDREW, (his face crimson tensely) Stop, Pa! I won t 
 stand hearing that not even from you! 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 47 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (rushing to ANDY and putting her arms about 
 him protectingly) Don t mind him, Andy dear. He don t mean 
 a word he s saying! (ROBERT stands rigidly, his hands clenched, 
 his face contracted by pain. SCOTT sits dumbfounded and open- 
 mouthed. ANDREW soothes his mother who is on the verge of 
 tears). 
 
 MAYO, (in angry triumph) It s the truth, Andy Mayo! And 
 you ought to be bowed in shame to think of it! 
 
 ROBERT, (protestingly) Pa! 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (coming from ANDREW to his father; puts her 
 hands on his shoulders as though to try and push him back in 
 the chair from which he has risen) Won t you be still, James? 
 Please won t you? 
 
 MAYO, (looking at ANDREW over his wife s shoulder stub 
 bornly) The truth God s truth ! 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Sh-h-h ! (She tries to put a finger across his 
 lips, but he twists his head away). 
 
 ANDREW, (who has regained control over himself) You re 
 wrong, Pa, it isn t truth. (JVith defiant assertiveness) I don t 
 love Ruth. I never loved her, and the thought of such a thing 
 never entered my head. 
 
 MAYO, (with an angry snort of disbelief) Hump ! You re 
 pilin lie on lie! 
 
 ANDREW, (losing his temper bitterly) I suppose it d be 
 hard for you to explain anyone s wanting to leave this blessed 
 farm except for some outside reason like that. But I m sick 
 and tired of it whether you want to believe me or not and 
 that s why I m glad to get a chance to move on. 
 
 ROBERT. Andy ! Don t ! You re only making it worse. 
 
 ANDREW, (sulkily) I don t care. I ve done my share of 
 work here. I ve earned my right to quit when I want to. 
 
48 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 (Suddenly overcome with anger and grief; with rising intensity) 
 I m sick and tired of the whole damn business. I hate the 
 farm and every inch of ground in it. I m sick of digging in the 
 dirt and sweating in the sun like a slave without getting a word 
 of thanks for it. (Tears of rage starting to his eyes hoarsely) 
 I m through, through for good and all ; and if Uncle Dick won t 
 take me on his ship, I ll find another. I ll get away somewhere, 
 somehow. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (in a frightened voice) Don t you answer him, 
 James. He doesn t know what he s saying. Don t say a word to 
 him til he s in his right senses again. Please James, don t 
 
 MAYO, (pushes her away from him; his face is drawn and 
 pale with the violence of his passion. He glares at ANDREW a* 
 if he hated him) You dare to you dare to speak like that 
 to me? You talk like that bout this farm the Mayo farm 
 
 where you was born you you (He clenches his fist above 
 
 his head and advances threateningly on ANDREW) You damned 
 whelp ! 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (with a shriek) James! (She covers her face 
 with her hands and sinks weakly into MAYO S chair. ANDREW 
 remains standing motionless , his face pale and set). 
 
 SCOTT, (starting to his feet and stretching his arms across 
 the table toward MAYO) Easy there, Jim ! 
 
 ROBERT, (throwing himself between father and brother) 
 Stop ! Are you mad ? 
 
 MAYO, (grabs ROBERT S arm and pushes him aside then 
 stands for a moment gasping for breath before ANDREW. He 
 points to the door with a shaking finger) Yes go! go! 
 You re no son o mine no son o mine! You can go to hell if 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 49 
 
 you want to! Don t let me find you here in the mornin 
 or or I ll throw you out! 
 
 ROBERT. Pa! For God s sake! (MRS. MAYO bursts into noisy 
 sobbing). 
 
 MAYO, (he gulps convulsively and glares at ANDREW) You 
 go tomorrow mornin and by God don t come back don t 
 
 dare come back by God, not while I m livin or I ll I ll 
 
 (He shakes over his muttered threat and strides toward the door 
 rear, right). 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (rising and throwing her arms around him 
 hysterically) James! James! Where are you going? 
 
 MAYO, (incoherently) I m goin to bed, Katey. It s late, 
 Katey it s late. (He goes out). 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (following him, pleading hysterically) James! 
 Take back what you ve said to Andy. James! (She follows 
 him out. ROBERT and the CAPTAIN stare after them with horri 
 fied eyes. ANDREW stands rigidly looking straight in front of 
 him, his fists clenched at his sides). 
 
 SCOTT, (the first to find his voice with an explosive sigh) 
 Well, if he ain t the devil himself when he s roused! You 
 oughtn t to have talked to him that way, Andy bout the damn 
 farm, knowin how touchy he is about it. (With another sigh) 
 Well, you won t mind what he s said in anger. He ll be sorry 
 for it when he s calmed down a bit. 
 
 ANDREW, (in a dead voice) You don t know him. (De 
 fiantly) What s said is said and can t be unsaid; and I ve 
 chosen. 
 
 ROBERT, (with violent protest) Andy! You can t go! This 
 is all so stupid and terrible ! 
 
 ANDREW, (coldly) I ll talk to you in a minute, Rob. (Crushed 
 
50 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 by his brother s attitude ROBERT sinks down into a chair, holding 
 his head in his hands}. 
 
 SCOTT, (comes and slaps ANDREW on the back) I m damned 
 glad you re shippin on, Andy. I like your spirit, and the way 
 you spoke up to him. (Lowering his voice to a cautious whisper) 
 The sea s the place for a young feller like you that isn t half 
 dead n alive. (He gives ANDY a final approving slap) You 
 V me 11 get along like twins, see if we don t. I m goin aloft 
 to turn in. Don t forget to pack your dunnage. And git some 
 sleep, if you kin. We ll want to sneak out extra early b fore 
 they re up. It ll do away with more argyments. Robert can 
 drive us down to the town, and bring back the team. (He goes 
 to the door in the rear, left) Well, good night. 
 
 ANDREW. Good night. (SCOTT goes out. The two brothers 
 remain silent for a moment. Then ANDREW comes over to his 
 brother and puts a hand on his back. He speaks in a low voice, 
 full of feeling) Buck up, Rob. It ain t any use crying over 
 spilt milk; and it ll all turn out for the best let s hope. It 
 couldn t be helped what s happened. 
 
 ROBERT, (wildly) But it s a lie, Andy, a lie ! 
 
 ANDREW. Of course it s a lie. You know it and I know it, 
 but that s all ought to know it. 
 
 ROBERT. Pa ll never forgive you. Oh, the whole affair is so 
 senseless and tragic. Why did you think you must go away? 
 
 ANDREW. You know better than to ask that. You know 
 why. (Fiercely) I can wish you and Ruth all the good luck 
 in the world, and I do, and I mean it; but you can t expect 
 me to stay around here and watch you two together, day after 
 day and me alone. I couldn t stand it not after all the plans 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 51 
 
 I d made to happen on this place thinking (his voice 
 
 breaks) thinking she cared for me. 
 
 ROBERT, (putting a hand on his brother s arm) God ! It s 
 horrible ! I feel so guilty to think that I should be the cause 
 of your suffering, after we ve been such pals all our live**. If I 
 could have foreseen what d happen, I swear to you I d have 
 never said a word to Ruth. I swear I wouldn t have, Andy! 
 
 ANDREW. I know you wouldn t; and that would ve been worse, 
 for Ruth would ve suffered then. (He pats his brother s shoul 
 der) It s best as it is. It had to be, and I ve got to stand 
 the gaff, that s all. Pa ll see how I felt after a time. (At 
 ROBERT shakes his head) and if he don t well, it can t be 
 helped. 
 
 ROBERT. But think of Ma ! God, Andy, you can t go ! You 
 can t! 
 
 ANDREW, (fiercely) I ve got to go to get away! I ve 
 got to, I tell you. I d go crazy here, bein reminded every 
 second of the day what a fool I d made of myself. I ve got 
 to get away and try and forget, if I can. And I d hate the 
 farm if I stayed, hate it for bringin things back. I couldn t 
 take interest in the work any more, work with no purpose in 
 sight. Can t you see what a hell it d be? You love her too, 
 Rob. Put yourself in my place, and remember I haven t 
 stopped loving her, and couldn t if I was to stay. Would that 
 be fair to you or to her? Put yourself in my place. (He 
 shakes his brother fiercely by the shoulder) What d you do 
 then? Tell me the truth! You love her. What d you do? 
 
 ROBERT. (chokingly) I d I d go, Andy! (He buries his 
 face in his hands with a shuddering sob) God! 
 
 ANDREW, (seeming to relax suddenly all over his body in 
 
52 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 a low, steady voice) Then you know why I got to go; and 
 there s nothing more to be said. 
 
 ROBERT, (in a frenzy of rebellion) Why did this have to 
 happen to us? It s damnable! (He looks about him wildly, as 
 if his vengeance were seeking the responsible fate). 
 
 ANDREW, (soothingly again putting his hands on his 
 brother s shoulder) It s no use fussing any more, Rob. It s 
 done. (Forcing a smile) I guess Ruth s got a right to have 
 who she likes. She made a good choice and God bless her 
 for it ! 
 
 ROBERT. Andy! Oh, I wish I could tell you half I feel 
 of how fine you are ! 
 
 ANDREW. (interrupting him quickly) Shut up ! Let s go to 
 bed. I ve got to be up long before sun-up. You, too, if you re 
 going to drive us down. 
 
 ROBERT. Yes. Yes. 
 
 ANDREW, (turning down the lamp) And I ve got to pack 
 yet. (He yawns with utter weariness) I m as tired as if I d 
 been plowing twenty-four hours at a stretch. (Dully) I feel 
 dead. (ROBERT covers his face again with his hands. ANDREW 
 shakes his head as if to get rid of his thoughts, and continues 
 with a poor attempt at cheery briskness) I m going to douse 
 the light. Come on. (He slaps his brother on the back. ROBERT 
 does not move. ANDREW bends over and blows out the lamp. 
 His voice comes from the darkness) Don t sit there mourning, 
 Rob. It ll all come out in the wash. Come on and get some 
 sleep. Everything ll turn out all right in the end. (ROBERT 
 can be heard stumbling to his feet, and the dark figures of the 
 two brothers can be seen groping their way toward the doorway 
 in the rear as 
 
 (The Curtain Falls) 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 
 ACT TWO 
 
ACT TWO 
 
 SCENE ONE 
 
 Same as Act One, Scene Two. Sitting room of the farm 
 house about half past twelve in the afternoon of a hot, 
 sun-baked day in mid-summer, three years later. All the win 
 dows are open, but no breeze stirs the soiled white curtains. 
 A patched screen door is in the rear. Through it the yard can 
 be seen, its small stretch of lawn divided by the dirt path lead 
 ing to the door from the gate in the white picket fence which 
 borders the road. 
 
 The room has changed, not so much in its outward appear 
 ance as in its general atmosphere. Little significant details 
 give evidence of carelessness, of inefficiency, of an industry 
 gone to seed. The chairs appear shabby from lack of paint; 
 the table cover is spotted and askew; holes show in the cur 
 tains; a child s doll, with one arm gone, lies under the table; a 
 hoe stands in a corner; a man s coat is flung on the couch in the 
 rear; the desk is cluttered up with odds and ends; a number 
 of books are piled carelessly on the sideboard. The noon 
 enervation of the sultry, scorching day seems to have penetrated 
 indoors, causing even inanimate objects to wear an aspect of 
 despondent exhaustion. 
 
 A place is set at the end of the table, left, for someone s din 
 ner. Through the open door to the kitchen comes the clatter 
 of dishes being washed, interrupted at intervals by a woman s 
 
 irritated voice and the peevish whining of a child. 
 
 55 
 
56 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 At the rise of the curtain MRS. MAYO and MRS. ATKINS are 
 discovered sitting facing each other, MRS. MAYO to the rear, 
 MRS. ATKINS to the right of the table. MRS. MAYO S face has lost 
 all character, disintegrated, become a weak mask wearing a 
 helpless, doleful expression of being constantly on the verge 
 of comfortless tears. She speaks in an uncertain voice, with 
 out assertiveness, as if all power of willing had deserted her. 
 MRS. ATKINS is in her wheel chair. She is a thin, pale-faced, 
 unintelligent looking woman of about forty-eight, with h^rd, 
 bright eyes. A victim of partial paralysis for many years, con 
 demned to be pushed from day to day of her life in a wheel 
 chair, she has developed the selfish, irritable nature of the 
 chronic invalid. Both women are dressed in black. MRS. ATKINS 
 knits nervously as she talks. A ball of unused yarn, with needles 
 stuck through it, lies on the table before MRS. MAYO. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (with a disapproving giance at the place set 
 on the table) Robert s late for his dinner again, as usual. I 
 don t see why Ruth puts up with it, and I ve told her so. 
 Many s the time I ve said to her "It s about time you put a 
 stop to his nonsense. Does he suppose you re runnm a hotel 
 with no one to help with things?" But she don t pay no 
 attention. She s as bad as he is, a most thinks she knows 
 better than an old, sick body like me. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (dully) Robbie s always late for things. He 
 can t help it, Sarah. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (with a snort) Can t help it! How you do 
 go on, Kate, findin excuses for him! Anybody can help any 
 thing they ve a mind to as long as they ve got health, and 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 57 
 
 ain t rendered helpless like me (She adds as a pious after 
 thought) through the will of God. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Robbie can t. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. Can t! It do make me mad, Kate Mayo, to see 
 folks that God gave all the use of their limbs to potterin 
 round and wastin time doin everything the wrong way 
 and me powerless to help and at their mercy, you might say. 
 And it ain t that I haven t pointed the right way to em. I ve 
 talked to Robert thousands of times and told him how thinu^ 
 ought to be done. You know that, Kate Mayo. But d you 
 /pose he takes any notice of what I say? Or Ruth, either 
 my own daughter? No, they think I m a crazy, cranky old 
 woman, half dead a ready, and the sooner I m in the grave and 
 out o their way the better it d suit them. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. You mustn t talk that way, Sarah. They re not 
 as wicked as that. And you ve got years and years before you. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. You re like the rest, Kate. You don t know 
 how near the end I am. Well, at least I can go to my eternal 
 rest with a clear conscience. I ve done all a body could do 
 to avert ruin from this house. On their heads be it! 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (with hopeless indifference) Things might be 
 worse. Robert never had any experience in farming. You can t 
 expect him to learn in a day. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (snappily) He s had three years to learn, 
 and he s gettin worse stead of better. Not on y your place 
 but mine too is driftin to rack and ruin, and I can t do nothin 
 to prevent. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (with a spark of assertiveness) You can t say 
 but Robbie works hard, Sarah. 
 
58 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. What good s workin hard if it don t accom 
 plish anything I d like to know? 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Robbie s had bad luck against him. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. Say what you ve a mind to, Kate, the proof 
 of the puddin s in the eatin ; and you can t deny that things 
 have been goin from bad to worse ever since your husband died 
 two years back. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (wiping tears from her eyes with her handker 
 chief) It was God s will that he should be taken. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (triumphantly) It was God s punishment on 
 James Mayo for the blasphemin and denyin of God he done 
 all his sinful life! (MRS. MAYO begins to weep softly) There, 
 Kate, I shouldn t be remindin you, I know. He s at peace, poor 
 man, and forgiven, let s pray. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (wiping her eyes simply) James was a good 
 man. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (ignoring this remark) What I was sayin was 
 that since Robert s been in charge things ve been goin down 
 hill steady. You don t know how bad they are. Robert don t 
 let on to you what s happenin ; and you d never see it your 
 self if twas under your nose. But, thank the Lord, Ruth 
 still comes to me once in a while for advice when she s worried 
 near out of her senses by his goin s-on. Do you know what 
 she told me last night? But I forgot, she said not to tell you 
 still I think you ve got a right to know, and it s my duty 
 not to let such things go on behind your back. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (wearily) You can tell me if you want to. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (bending over toward her in a low voi* 
 Ruth was almost crazy about it. Robert told her he d have to 
 mortgage the farm said he didn t know how he d pull through 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 59 
 
 til harvest without it, and he can t get money any other way. 
 (She straightens up indignantly) Now what do you think 
 of your Robert? 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (resignedly) If it has to be 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. You don t mean to say you re goin to sign 
 away your farm, Kate Mayo after me warnin you? 
 
 MRS. MAYO. I ll do what Robbie says is needful. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (holding up her hands) Well, of all the fool 
 ishness! well, it s your farm, not mine, and I ve nothin more 
 to say. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Maybe Robbie ll manage till Andy gets back 
 and sees to things. It can t be long now. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS (with keen interest) Ruth says Andy ought 
 to turn up any day. When does Robert figger he ll get here? 
 
 MRS. MAYO. He says he can t calculate exactly on account 
 o the Sunda being a sail boat. Last letter he got was from 
 England, the day they were sailing for home. That was over 
 a month ago, and Robbie thinks they re overdue now. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. We can give praise to God then that he ll be 
 back in the nick o time. He ought to be tired of travelin 
 and anxious to get home and settle down to work again. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Andy has been working. He s head officer on 
 Dick s boat, he wrote Robbie. You know that. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. That foolin on ships is all right for a spell, 
 but he must be right sick of it by this. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (musingly) I wonder if he s changed much. 
 He used to be so fine-looking and strong. (With a sigh) Three 
 years ! It seems more like three hundred. (Her eyes filling 
 piteously) Oh, if James could only have lived "til he came 
 back and forgiven him! 
 
60 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. He never would have not James Mayo! 
 Didn t he keep his heart hardened against him till the last in 
 spite of all you and Robert did to soften him? 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (with a feeble flash of anger } Don t you dare 
 say that ! (Brokenly) Oh, I know deep down in his heart he 
 forgave Andy, though he was too stubborn ever to own up to 
 it. It was that brought on his death breaking his heart just 
 on account of his stubborn pride. (She wipes her eyes with her 
 handkerchief and sobs). 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (piously) It was the will of God. (The whin 
 ing crying of the child sounds from the kitchen. MRS. ATKINS 
 frowns irritably) Drat that young one ! Seems as if she cries 
 all the time on purpose to set a body s nerves on edge. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (wiping her eyes) It s the heat upsets her. 
 Mary doesn t feel any too well these days, poor little child ! 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. She gets it right from her Pa bein sickly all 
 the time. You can t deny Robert was always ailin as a child. 
 (She sighs heavily) It was a crazy mistake for them two to get 
 married. I argyed against it at the time, but Ruth was so 
 spelled with Robert s wild poetry notions she wouldn t listen 
 to sense. Andy was the one would have been the match for 
 her. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. I ve often thought since it might have been 
 better the other way. But Ruth and Robbie seem happy enough 
 together. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. At any rate it was God s work and His will 
 be done. (The two women sit in silence for a moment. RUTH 
 enters from the kitchen, carrying in her arms her two year old 
 daughter, MARY, a pretty but sickly and cenemic looking child 
 with a tear-stained face. RUTH has aged appreciably. Her 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 61 
 
 face ha* lost its youth and freshness. There is a trace in her 
 expression of something hard and spiteful. She sits in the 
 rocker in front of the table and sighs wearily. She wears a 
 gingham dress with a soiled apron tied around her waist). 
 
 RUTH. Land sakes, if this isn t a scorcher ! That kitchen s 
 like a furnace. Phew! (She pushes the damp hair back from 
 her forehead). 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Why didn t you call me to help with the dishes? 
 
 RUTH, (shortly) No. The heat in there d kill you. 
 
 MARY, (sees the doll under the table and struggles on her 
 mother s lap) Dolly, Mama! Dolly! 
 
 RUTH, (pulling her back) It s time for your nap. You 
 can t play with Dolly now. 
 
 MARY, (commencing to cry whiningly) Dolly! 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (irritably) Can t you keep that child still? 
 Her racket s enough to split a body s ears. Put her down and 
 let her play with the doll if it ll quiet her. 
 
 RUTH, (lifting MARY to the floor) There ! I hope you ll 
 be satisfied and keep still. (MARY sits down on the floor before 
 the table and plays with the doll in silence. RUTH glances at 
 the place set on the table) It s a wonder Rob wouldn t try to 
 get to meals on time once in a while. 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (dully) Something must have gone wrong 
 again. 
 
 RUTH, (wearily) I s pose so. Something s always going 
 wrong these days, it looks like. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (snappily) It wouldn t if you possessed a 
 bit of spunk. The idea of you permittin him to come in to 
 meals at all hours and you doin the work! I never heard 
 of such a thin . You re too easy goin , that s the trouble. 
 
62 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 RUTH. Do stop your nagging at me, Ma! I m sick of 
 hearing you. I ll do as I please about it; and thank you for 
 not interfering. (She wipes her moist forehead wearily) 
 Phew! It s too hot to argue. Let s talk of something pleasant. 
 (Curiously) Didn t I hear you speaking about Andy a while 
 ago? 
 
 MRS. MAYO. We were wondering when he d get home. 
 
 RUTH, (brightening) Rob says any day now he s liable 
 to drop in and surprise us him and the Captain. It ll cer 
 tainly look natural to see him around the farm again. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. Let s hope the farm ll look more natural, too, 
 when he s had a hand at it. The way thin s are now ! 
 
 RUTH, (irritably) Will you stop harping on that, Ma? 
 We all know things aren t as they might be. What s the good 
 of your complaining all the time? 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. There, Kate Mayo! Ain t that just what I 
 told you? I can t say a word of advice to my own daughter 
 even, she s that stubborn and self-willed. 
 
 RUTH, (putting her hands over her ears in exasperation) 
 For goodness sakes, Ma ! 
 
 MRS. MAYO, (dully) Never mind. Andy ll fix everything 
 when he comes. 
 
 RUTH, (hopefully) Oh, yes, If know he will. He always did 
 know just the right thing ought to be done. (With weary 
 vexation) It s a shame for him to come home and have to start 
 in with things in such a topsy-turvy. 
 
 MRS. MAYO. Andy ll manage. 
 
 RUTH, (sighing) I s pose it isn t Rob s fault things go 
 wrong with him. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (scornfully) Hump ! (She fans herself 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 63 
 
 nervously) Land o Goshen, but it s bakin in here! Let s 
 go out in under the trees in back where there s a breath of 
 fresh air. Come, Kate. (MRS. MAYO gets up obediently and 
 starts to wheel the invalid s chair toward the screen door) 
 You better come too, Ruth. It ll do you good. Learn him a 
 lesson and let him get his own dinner. Don t be such a fool. 
 
 RUTH, (going and holding the screen door open for them 
 listlessly) He wouldn t mind. He doesn t eat much. But I 
 can t go anyway. I ve got to put baby to bed. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. Let s go, Kate. I m boilin in here. (MRS. 
 MAYO "wheels her out and off left, RUTH comes back and sits 
 down in her chair). 
 
 RUTH, (mechanically) Come and let me take off your shoes 
 and stockings, Mary, that s a good girl. You ve got to take 
 your nap now. (The child continues to play as if she hadn t 
 heard, absorbed in her doll. An eager expression comes over 
 RUTH S tired face. She glances toward the door furtively 
 then gets up and goes to the desk. Her movements indicate 
 a guilty fear of discovery. She takes a letter from a pigeon 
 hole and retreats swiftly to her chair with it. She opens the 
 envelope and reads the letter with great interest, a flush of 
 excitement coming to her cheeks. ROBERT walks up the path 
 and opens the screen door quietly and comes into the room. 
 He, too, has aged. His shoulders are stooped as if under too 
 great a burden. His eyes are dull and lifeless, his face burned 
 by the sun and unshaven for days. Streaks of sweat have 
 smudged the layer of dust on his cheeks. His lips drawn down 
 at the corners, give him a hopeless, resigned expression. The 
 three years have accentuated the weakness of his mouth and 
 
64 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 chin. He is dressed in overalls, laced boots, and a flannel 
 shirt open at the neck). 
 
 ROBERT, (throwing his hat over on the sofa with a great 
 sigh of exhaustion) Phew! The sun s hot today! (RUTH is 
 startled. At first she makes an instinctive motion as if to hide 
 the letter in her bosom. She immediately thinks better of this 
 and sits with the letter in her hands looking at him with defiant 
 eyes. He bends down and kisses her). 
 
 RUTH, (feeling of her cheek irritably) Why don t you 
 shave? You look awful. 
 
 ROBERT, (indifferently) I forgot and it s too much trouble 
 this weather. 
 
 MARY, (throwing aside her doll, runs to him with a happy 
 cry) Dada ! Dada ! 
 
 ROBERT, (swinging her up above his head lovingly) And 
 how s this little girl of mine this hot day, eh? 
 
 MARY, (screeching happily) Dada! Dada! 
 
 RUTH, (in annoyance) Don t do that to her! You know 
 it s time for her nap and you ll get her all waked up; then 
 I ll be the one that ll have to sit beside her till she falls asleep. 
 
 ROBERT, (sitting down in the chair on the left of table and 
 cuddling MARY on his lap) You needn t bother. I ll put her 
 to bed. 
 
 RUTH, (shortly) You ve got to get back to your work, I 
 s pose. 
 
 ROBERT, (with a sigh) Yes, I was forgetting. (He glances 
 at the open letter on RUTH S lap) Reading Andy s letter again? 
 I should think you d know it by heart by this time. 
 
 RUTH, (coloring as if she d been accused of something 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 65 
 
 defiantly) I ve got a right to read it, haven t I? He says it s 
 meant for all of us. 
 
 ROBERT, (with a trace of irritation) Right? Don t be so 
 silly. There s no question of right. I was only saying that you 
 must know all that s in it after so many readings. 
 
 RUTH. Well, I don t. (She puts the letter on the table and 
 gets wearily to her feet) I s pose you ll be wanting your din 
 ner now. 
 
 ROBERT, (listlessly) I don t care. I m not hungry. 
 
 RUTH. And here I been keeping it hot for you ! 
 
 ROBERT, (irritably) Oh, all right then. Bring it in ana 
 I ll try to eat. 
 
 RUTH. I ve got to get her to bed first. (She goes to lift 
 MARY off his lap) Come, dear. It s after time and you can 
 hardly keep your eyes open now. 
 
 MARV. (crying) No, no! (Appealing to her father) Dada! 
 No! 
 
 RUTH, (accusingly to ROBERT) There ! Now see what 
 you ve done! I told you not to 
 
 ROBERT, (shortly) Let her alone, then. She s all right 
 where she is. She ll fall asleep on my lap in a minute if you ll 
 stop bothering her. 
 
 RUTH, (hotly) She ll not do any such thing! She s got 
 to learn to mind me ! (Shaking her finger at MARY) You 
 naughty child ! Will you come with Mama when she tells you 
 for your own good? 
 
 MARY, (clinging to her father) No, Dada! 
 
 RUTH, (losing her temper) A good spanking s what you 
 need, my young lady and you ll get one from me if you don *, 
 mind better, d you hear? (MARY starts to whimper frightenedly). 
 
66 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ROBERT, (with sudden anger) Leave her alone ! How often 
 have I told you not to threaten her with whipping? I won t 
 have it. (Soothing the wailing MARY) There! There, little 
 girl ! Baby mustn t cry. Dada won t like you if you do. 
 Dada ll hold you and you must promise to go to sleep like 
 a good little girl. Will you when Dada asks you? 
 
 MARY, (cuddling up to him) Yes, Dada. 
 
 RUTH, (looking at them, her pale face set and drawn) A 
 fine one you are to he telling folks how to do things ! (She 
 bites her lips. Husband and wife look into each other s eyes 
 with something akin to hatred in their expressions; then RUTH 
 turns away with a shrug of affected indifference) All right, 
 take care of her then, if you think it s so easy. (She walks 
 away into the kitchen). 
 
 ROBERT, (smoothing MARY S hair tenderly) We ll show 
 Mama you re a good little girl, won t we? 
 
 MARY, (crooning drowsily) Dada, Dada. 
 
 ROBERT. Let s see: Does your mother take off your shoes 
 and stockings before your nap? 
 
 MARY, (nodding with half-shut eyes) Yes, Dada. 
 
 ROBERT, (taking off her shoes and stockings) We ll show 
 Mama we know how to do those things, won t we? There s 
 one old shoe off and there s the other old shoe and here s 
 one old stocking and there s the other old stocking. There 
 we are, all nice and cool and comfy. (He bends down and 
 kisses her) And now will you promise to go right to sleep if 
 Dada takes you to bed? (MARY nods sleepily) That s the 
 good little girl. (He gathers her up in his arms carefully 
 and carries her into the bedroom. His voice can be heard 
 faintly as he lulls the child to sleep. RUTH comes out of the 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 67 
 
 kitchen and gets the plate from the table. She hears the voice 
 from the room and tiptoes to the door to look in. Then she 
 starts for the kitchen but stands for a moment thinking, a look 
 of ill-concealed jealousy on her face. At a noise from inside 
 she hurriedly disappears into the kitchen. A moment later 
 ROBERT re-enters. He comes forward and picks up the shoes 
 and stockings which he shoves carelessly under the table. Then, 
 seeing no one about, he goes to the sideboard and selects a 
 book. Coming back to his chair, he sits down and immediately 
 becomes absorbed in reading. RTTH returns from the kitchen 
 bringing his plate heaped with food, and a cup of tea. She 
 sets those before him and sits down in her former place. 
 ROBERT continues to read, oblivious to the food on the table). 
 
 RUTH, (after watching him irritably for a moment) For 
 heaven s sakes, put down that old book! Don t you see your 
 dinner s petting cold? 
 
 ROBERT, (closing his book) Excuse me, Ruth. I didn t 
 notice. (He picks up his knife and fork and begins to eat 
 gingerly, without appetite). 
 
 RUTH. I should think you might have some feeling for me, 
 Rob, and not always be late for meals. If you think it s fun 
 sweltering in that oven of a kitchen to keep things warm for 
 you, you re mistaken. 
 
 ROBERT. I m sorry, Ruth, really I am. Something crops up 
 every day to delay me. I mean to be here on time. 
 
 RUTH, (with a sigh) Mean-tos don t count. 
 
 ROBERT, (with a conciliating smile) Then punish me, Ruth. 
 Let the food get cold and don t bother about me. 
 
 RUTH. I d have to wait just the same to wash up after 
 you. 
 
68 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ROBERT. But I can wash up. 
 
 RUTH. A nice mess there d be then! 
 
 ROBERT, (with an attempt at lightness) The food is lucky 
 to be able to get cold this weather. (As RUTH doesn t answer 
 or smile he opens his book and resumes his reading^ -forcing 
 himself to take a mouthful of food every now and then. RUTH 
 stares at him in annoyance}. 
 
 RUTH. And besides, you ve got your own work that s got to 
 be done. 
 
 ROBERT, (absent-mindedly, without taking his eyes from the 
 book) Yes, of course. 
 
 RUTH, (spitefully) Work you ll never get done by reading 
 books all the time. 
 
 ROBERT, (shutting the book with a snap) Why do you 
 persist in nagging at me for getting pleasure out of reading? 
 Is it because (He checks himself abruptly). 
 
 RUTH, (coloring) Because I m too stupid to understand 
 them, I s posc you were going to say. 
 
 ROBERT, (shame-facedly) No no. (In exasperation) Why 
 do you goad me into saying things I don t mean? Haven t 
 I got my share of troubles trying to work this cursed farm 
 without your adding to them? You know how hard I ve tried 
 to keep things going in spite of bad luck 
 
 RUTH, (scornfully) Bad luck! 
 
 ROBERT. And my own very apparent unfitness for the job, 
 I was going to add; but you can t deny there s been bad 
 luck to it, too. Why don t you -ake things into consideration? 
 Why can t we pull together? We used to. I know it s hard 
 on you also. Then why can t we help each other instead of 
 hindering? 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 
 
 RUTH, (sullenly) I do the best I know how. 
 
 ROBERT, (gets up and puts his hand on her shoulder) I 
 know you do. But let s both of us try to do better. We can 
 both improve. Say a word of encouragement once in a while 
 when things go wrong, even if it is my fault. You know the 
 odds I ve been up against since Pa died. I m not a farmer. 
 I ve never claimed to be one. But there s nothing else I can 
 do under the circumstances, and I ve got to pull things through 
 somehow. With your help, I can do it. With you against 
 
 me (He shrugs his shoulders. There is a pause. Then he 
 
 bends dorm and kisses her hair with an attempt at cheerful 
 ness) So you promise that; and I ll promise to be here when 
 the clock strikes and anything else you tell me to. Is it a 
 bargain ? 
 
 RUTH, (dully) I s pose so. (They are interrupted by the 
 sound of a loud knock at the kitchen door) There s someone 
 at the kitchen door. (She hurries out. A moment later she 
 reappears) It s Ben. 
 
 ROBERT, (frowning) What s the trouble now, I wonder? 
 (In a loud voice) Come on in here, Ben. (BEN slouches in 
 from the kitchen. He is a hulking, awkward young fellow with 
 a heavy, stupid face and shifty, cunning eyes. He is dressed 
 in overalls, boots, etc., and wears a broad-brimmed hat of coarse 
 straw pushed back on his head) Well. Ben, what s the matter? 
 
 BEN. (draii lingly) The mowin machine s bust. 
 
 ROBERT. Why, that can t be. The man fixed it only last 
 week 
 
 BEN. It s bust just the same. 
 
 ROBERT. And can t vou fix it? 
 
70 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 BEN. No. Don t know what s the matter with the goll- 
 darned thing. Twon t work, anyhow. 
 
 ROBERT, (getting up and going for his hat) Wait a minute 
 and I ll go look it over. There can t be much the matter 
 with it. 
 
 BEN. (impudently) Don t make no diff rence t me whether 
 there be or not. I m quittin*. 
 
 ROBERT, (anxiously) You don t mean you re throwing up 
 your job here? 
 
 BEN. That s what ! My month s up today and I want what s 
 owin t me. 
 
 ROBERT. But why are you quitting now, Ben, when you 
 know I ve so much work on hand? I ll have a hard time getting 
 another man at such short notice. 
 
 BEN. That s for you to figger. I m quittin . 
 
 ROBERT. But what s your reason? You haven t any com 
 plaint to make about the way you ve been treated, have you? 
 
 BEN. No. Tain t that. (Shaking his finger) Look-a-here. 
 I m sick o being made fun at, that s what; an I got a job up 
 to Timms place; an I m quittin here. 
 
 ROBERT. Being made fun of? I don t understand you. 
 Who s making fun of you? 
 
 BEN. They all do. When I drive down with the milk in 
 the mornin they all laughs and jokes at me that boy up 
 to Harris and the new feller up to Slocum s, and Bill Evans 
 down to Meade s, and all the rest on em. 
 
 ROBERT. That s a queer reason for leaving me flat. Won t 
 they laugh at you just the same when you re working for 
 Timms? 
 
 BEN. They wouldn t dare to. Timms is the best farm here- 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 71 
 
 abouts. They was laughin at me for workin for you, that s 
 what! "How re things up to the Mayo place?" they hollers 
 every mornin . "What s Robert doin now pasturin the cattle 
 in the cornlot? Is he seasonin his hay with rain this year, 
 same as last?" they shouts. "Or is he inventin some lectrical 
 milkin engine to fool them dry cows o his into givin hard 
 cider?" (Very much ruffled) That s like they talks; and I 
 ain t goin to put up with it no longer. Everyone s always 
 knowed me as a first-class hand hereabouts, and I ain t wantin 
 em to get no different notion. So I m quittin you. And I 
 wants what s comin to me. 
 
 ROBERT, (coldly) Oh, if that s the case, you can go to the 
 devil. You ll get your money tomorrow when I get back from 
 town not before ! 
 
 BEN. (turning to doorway to kitchen) That suits me. (As 
 he goes out he speaks back over his shoulder) And see that 
 I do get it, or there ll be trouble. (He disappears and the slam 
 ming of the kitchen door is heard). 
 
 ROBERT, (as RUTH comes from where she has been standing 
 by the doorway and sits down dejectedly in her old place) 
 The stupid damn fool! And now what about the haying? That s 
 an example of what I m up against. No one can say I m re 
 sponsible for that. 
 
 RUTH. He wouldn t dare act that way with anyone else! 
 (Spitefully, with a glance at ANDREW S letter on the table) It s 
 lucky Andy s coming back. 
 
 ROBERT, (without resentment) Yes, Andy 11 see the right 
 thing to do in a jiffy. (With an affectionate smile) I wonder 
 if the old chump s changed much? He doesn t seem to from 
 his letters, does he? (Shaking his head) But just the same 
 
72 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 I doubt if he ll want to settle down to a hum-drum farm life, 
 after all he s been through. 
 
 RUTH, {resentfully) Andy s not like you. He likes the 
 farm. 
 
 ROBERT, (immersed in his own thoughts enthusiastically) 
 Gad, the things he s seen and experienced ! Think of the places 
 he s been! All the wonderful far places I used to dream 
 about! God, how I envy him! What a trip! (He springs to 
 his feet and instinctively goes to the window and stares out at 
 the horizon). 
 
 RUTH, (bitterly) I s pose you re sorry now you didn t go? 
 
 ROBERT, (too occupied with his own thoughts to hear her 
 vindictively) Oh, those cursed hills out there that I used to 
 think promised me so much ! How I ve grown to hate the sight 
 of them! They re like the walls of a narrow prison yard 
 shutting me in from all the freedom and wonder of life ! (He 
 turns back to the room with a gesture of loathing) Sometimes 
 I think if it wasn t for you, Ruth, and (his voice softening) 
 little Mary, I d chuck everything up and walk down the road 
 with just one desire in my heart to put the whole rim of the 
 world between me and those hills, and be able to breathe freely 
 once more! (He sinks down into his chair and smiles with 
 bitter self -scorn) There I go dreaming again -my old fool 
 dreams. 
 
 RUTH, (in a low, repressed voice her eyes smoldering) 
 You re not the only one! 
 
 ROBERT, (buried in his own thoughts bitterly) And Andy, 
 who s had the chance what has he got out of it? His let 
 ters read like the diary of a of a farmer! "We re in Singa 
 pore now. It s a dirty hole of a place and hotter than hell. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 73 
 
 Two of the crew are down with fever and we re short-handed 
 on the work. I ll be damn glad when we sail again, although 
 tacking back and forth in these blistering seas is a rotten job 
 too!" (Scornfully) That s about the way he summed up his 
 impressions of the East. 
 
 RUTH, (her repressed voice trembling) You needn t make 
 fun of Andy. 
 
 ROBERT. ,When I think but what s the use? You know 
 I wasn t making fun of Andy personally, but his attitude toward 
 things is 
 
 RUTH, (her eyes flashing bursting into uncontrollable rage) 
 You was too making fun of him ! And I ain t going to stand 
 for it! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! (ROBERT stares 
 at her in amazement. She continues furiously) A fine one to 
 talk about anyone else after the way you ve ruined everything 
 with your lazy loafing ! and the stupid way you do things ! 
 
 ROBERT, (angrily) Stop that kind of talk, do you hear? 
 
 RUTH. You findin fault with your own brother who s ten 
 times the man you ever was or ever will be! You re jealous, 
 that s what ! Jealous because he s made a man of himself, while 
 
 you re nothing but a but a (She stutters incoherently , 
 
 overcome by rage). 
 
 ROBERT. Ruth ! Ruth ! You ll be sorry for talking like that. 
 
 RUTH. I won t! I won t never be sorry! I m only saying 
 what I ve been thinking for years. 
 
 ROBERT, (aghast) Ruth! You can t mean that! 
 
 RUTH. What do you think living with a man like you 
 having to suffer all the time because you ve never been man 
 enough to work and do things like other people. But no! 
 You never own up to that. You think you re so much better 
 
74 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 than other folks, with your college education, where you never 
 learned a thing, and always reading your stupid books instead 
 of working. I s pose you think I ought to be proud to be your 
 wife a poor, ignorant thing like me! (Fiercely) But I m not. 
 I hate it! I hate the sight of you. Oh, if I d only known! 
 If I hadn t been such a fool to listen to your cheap, silly, 
 poetry talk that you learned out of books ! If I could have 
 seen how you were in your true self like you are now I d 
 have killed myself before I d have married you! I was sorry 
 for it before we d been together a month. I knew what you 
 were really like when it was too late. 
 
 ROBERT, (his voice raised loudly) And now I m finding 
 out what you re really like what a a creature I ve been living 
 with. (With a harsh laugh) God! It wasn t that I haven t 
 guessed how mean and small you are but I ve kept on telling 
 myself that I must be wrong like a fool ! like a damned 
 fool! 
 
 RUTH. You were saying you d go out on the road if it wasn t 
 for me. Well, you can go, and the sooner the better ! I don t 
 care ! I ll be glad to get rid of you ! The farm ll be better off 
 too. There s been a curse on it ever since you took hold. 
 So go ! Go and be a tramp like you ve always wanted. It s 
 all you re good for. I can get along without you, don t you 
 worry. (Exulting fiercely) Andy s coming back, don t forget 
 that ! He ll attend to things like they should be. He ll show 
 what a man can do! I don t need you. Andy s coming! 
 
 ROBERT, (they are both standing. ROBERT grabs her by the 
 shoulders and glares into her eyes) What do you mean? (He 
 shakes her violently) What are you thinking of? What s in 
 your evil mind, you you (His voice is a harsh shout). 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 75 
 
 RUTH, (in a defiant scream) Yes I do mean it! I d say 
 it if you was to kill me ! I do love Andy. I do ! I do ! I 
 always loved him. (Exultantly) And he loves me! He loves 
 me ! I know he does. He always did ! And you know he 
 did, too ! So go ! Go if you want to ! 
 
 ROBERT, (throwing her away from him. She staggers back 
 against the table thickly) You you slut! (He stands glar 
 ing at her as she leans back, supporting herself by the table, 
 gasping for breath. A loud frightened whimper sounds from 
 the awakened child in the bedroom. It continues. The man 
 and woman stand looking at one another in horror , the extent 
 of their terrible quarrel suddenly brought home to them. A 
 pause. The noise of a horse and carriage comes from the road 
 before the house. The two, suddenly struck by the same premo 
 nition, listen to it breathlessly, as to a sound heard in a dream. 
 It stops. They hear ANDY S voice from the road shouting a long 
 hail "Ahoy there!") 
 
 RUTH, (with a strangled cry of joy) Andy! Andy! (She 
 rushes and grabs the knob of the screen door, about to fling it 
 open). 
 
 ROBERT, (in a voice of command that forces obedience) 
 Stop! (He goes to the door and gently pushes the trembling 
 RUTH away from it. The child s crying rises to a louder pitch) 
 I ll meet Andy. You better go in to Mary, Ruth. (She looks 
 at him defiantly for a moment, but there is something in his 
 eyes that makes her turn and walk slowly into the bedroom). 
 
 ANDY S VOICE, (in a louder shout) Ahoy there, Rob! 
 
 ROBERT, (in an answering shout of forced cheeriness) Hello, 
 Andy ! (He opens the door and walks out a* 
 
 (The Curtain Falls) 
 
ACT TWO 
 
 SCENE Two 
 
 The top of a hill on the farm. It is about eleven o clock the 
 next morning. The day is hot and cloudless. In the distance 
 the sea can be seen. 
 
 The top of the hill slopes downward slightly toward the left. 
 A big boulder stands in the center toward the rear. Further 
 right, a large oak tree. The faint trace of a path leading up 
 ward to it from the left foreground can be detected through 
 the bleached, sun-scorched grass. 
 
 ROBERT is discovered sitting on the boulder, his chin resting 
 on his hands, staring out toward the horizon seaward. His face 
 is pale and haggard, his expression one of utter despondency. 
 MARY i* sitting on the grass near him in the shade, playing with 
 her doll, singing happily to herself. Presently she casts a 
 curious glance at her father, and, propping her doll up against 
 the tree, comes over and clambers to his side. 
 
 MARY, {pulling at his hand solicitously} Dada sick? 
 
 ROBERT, (looking at her with a forced smile) No, dear. 
 Why? 
 
 MARY. Play wif Mary. 
 
 ROBERT, (gently) No, dear, not today. Dada doesn t feel 
 like playing today. 
 
 MARY, (protestingly) Yes, Dada! 
 
 ROBERT. No, dear. Dada does feel sick a little. He s got 
 
 a bad headache. 
 
 76 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 77 
 
 MARY. Mary see. (He bend* his head. She pats his hair) 
 Bad head. 
 
 ROBERT, (kissing her with a smile) There! It s better 
 now, dear, thank you. (She cuddles up close against him. There 
 is a pause during which each of them looks out seaward) Finally 
 ROBERT turns to her tenderly) Would you like Dada to go 
 away? far, far away? 
 
 MARY, (tearfully) No! No! No, Dada, no! 
 
 ROBERT. Don t you like Uncle Andy the man that came 
 yesterday not the old man with the white mustache the other? 
 
 MARY. Mary loves Dada. 
 
 ROBERT, (with fierce determination) He won t go away, 
 baby. He was only joking. He couldn t leave his little Mary. 
 (He presses the child in his arms). 
 
 MARY, (with an exclamation of pain) Oh! Hurt! 
 
 ROBERT. I m sorry, little girl. (He lifts her down to the 
 grass) Go play with Dolly, that s a good girl; and be careful 
 to keep in the shade. (She reluctantly leaves him and takes 
 up her doll again. A moment later she points down the hill to 
 the lit). 
 
 MARY. Mans, Dada. 
 
 ROBERT, (looking that way) It s your Uncle Andy. (A 
 moment later ANDREW comes up from the left, whistling cheer 
 fully. He has changed but little in appearance, except for 
 the fact that his face has been deeply bronzed by his yeart in 
 the tropics; but there is a decided change in his manner. The 
 old easy-going good-nature seems to have been partly lost in a 
 breezy, business-like briskness of voice and gesture. There if 
 an authoritative note in his speech as though he were accus 
 tomed to give orders and have them obeyed as a matter of 
 
78 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 course. He is dressed in the simple blue uniform and cap of 
 a merchant ship s officer). 
 
 ANDREW. Here you are, eh? 
 
 ROBERT. Hello, Andy. 
 
 ANDREW, (going over to MARY) And who s this young lady 
 I find you all alone with, eh? Who s this pretty young lady? 
 (He tickles the laughing f squirming MARY, then lifts her up at 
 arm s length over his head) Upsy daisy! (He sets her down 
 on the ground again) And there you are! (He walks over 
 and sits down on the boulder beside ROBERT who moves to one 
 side to make room for him) Ruth told me I d probably find 
 you up top-side here; but I d have guessed it, anyway. (He 
 digs his brother in the ribs affectionately) Still up to your 
 old tricks, you old beggar ! I can remember how you used to 
 come up here to mope and dream in the old days. 
 
 ROBERT, (with a smile) I come up here now because it s 
 the coolest place on the farm. I ve given up dreaming. 
 
 ANDREW, (grinning) I don t believe it. You can t have 
 changed that much. (After a pause with boyish enthusiasm) 
 Say, it sure brings back old times to be up here with you having 
 a chin all by our lonesomes again. I feel great being back 
 home. 
 
 ROBERT. It s great for us to have you back. 
 
 ANDREW, (after a pause meaningly) I ve been looking 
 over the old place with Ruth. Things don t seem to be 
 
 ROBERT, (his face flushing interrupts his brother shortly) 
 Never mind the damn farm! Let s talk about something in 
 teresting. This is the first chance I ve had to have a word 
 with you alone. Tell me about your trip. 
 
 ANDREW. Why, I thought I told you everything in my letters. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 79 
 
 ROBERT, (smiling) Your letters were sketchy, to say the 
 least. 
 
 ANDREW. Oh, I know I m no author. You needn t be afraid 
 of hurting my feelings. I d rather go through a typhoon again 
 than write a letter. 
 
 ROBERT, (with eager interest) Then you were through a 
 typhoon ? 
 
 ANDREW. Yes in the China sea. Had to run before it 
 under bare poles for two days. I thought we were bound 
 down for Davy Jones, sure. Never dreamed waves could get 
 so big or the wind blow so hard. If it hadn t been for Uncle 
 Dick being such a good skipper we d have gone to the sharks, 
 all of us. As it was we came out minus a main top-mast and 
 had to beat back to Hong-Kong for repairs. But I must have 
 written you all this. 
 
 ROBERT. You never mentioned it. 
 
 ANDREW. Well, there was so much dirty work getting things 
 ship-shape again I must have forgotten about it. 
 
 ROBERT. (looking at ANDREW marveling) Forget a ty 
 phoon? (u ith a trace of scorn) You re a strange combina 
 tion, Andy. And is what you ve told me all you remembei 
 about it? 
 
 ANDREW. Oh, I could give you your bellyful of details if 
 I wanted to turn loose on you. It was all-wool-and-a-yard- 
 wide-Hell, I ll tell you. You ought to have been there. I 
 remember thinking about you at the worst of it, and saying to 
 myself: "This d cure Rob of them ideas of his about the beau 
 tiful sea, if he could see it." And it would have too, you bet! 
 (He nods emphatically}. 
 
80 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ROBERT, (dryly) The sea doesn t seem to have impressed 
 you very favorably. 
 
 ANDREW. I should say it didn t ! I ll never set foot on a 
 ship again if I can help it except to carry me some place I 
 can t get to by train. 
 
 ROBERT. But you studied to become an officer ! 
 
 ANDREW. Had to do something or I d gone mad. The days 
 were like years. (He laughs) And as for the East you used 
 to rave about well, you ought to see it, and smell it! One 
 walk down one of their filthy narrow streets with the tropic 
 sun beating on it would sicken you for life with the "wonder 
 and mystery" you used to dream of. 
 
 ROBERT, (shrinking from his brother with a glance of aver 
 sion) So all you found in the East was a stench? 
 
 ANDREW. A stench ! Ten thousand of them ! 
 
 ROBERT. But you did like some of the places, judging from 
 your letters Sydney, Buenos Aires 
 
 ANDREW. Yes, Sydney s a good town. (Enthusiastically) 
 But Buenos Aires there s the place for you. Argentine s a 
 country where a fellow has a chance to make good. You re 
 right I like it. And I ll tell you, Rob, that s right where I m 
 going just as soon as I ve seen you folks a while and can get 
 a ship. I can get a berth as second officer, and I ll jump the 
 ship when I get there. I ll need every cent of the wages 
 Uncle s paid me to get a start at something in B. A. 
 
 ROBERT, (staring at his brother slowly) So you re not 
 going to stay on the farm? 
 
 ANDREW. Why sure not! Did you think I was? There 
 wouldn t be any sense. One of us is enough to run this little 
 place. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 81 
 
 ROBERT. I suppose it does seem small to you now. 
 
 ANDREW, (not noticing the sarcasm in ROBERT S foee) 
 You ve no idea, Rob, what a splendid place Argentine is. I 
 had a letter from a marine insurance chap that I d made 
 friends with in Hong-Kong to his brother, who s in the grain 
 business in Buenos Aires. He took quite a fancy to me, and 
 what s more important, he offered me a job if I d come back 
 there. I d have taken it on the spot, only I couldn t leave 
 Uncle Dick in the lurch, and I d promised you folks to come 
 home. But I m going back there, you bet, and then you watch 
 me get on! (He slaps ROBERT on the back) But don t you 
 think it s a big chance, Rob? 
 
 ROBERT. It s fine for you, Andy. 
 
 ANDREW. We call this a farm but you ought to hear about 
 the farms down there ten square miles where we ve got an 
 acre. It s a new country where big things arc opening u\j 
 and I want to get in on something big before I die. I m 
 no fool when it comes to farming, and I know something about 
 grain. I ve been reading up a lot on it, too, lately. (He 
 notices ROBERT S absent-minded expression and laughs) Wake 
 up, you old poetry book worm, you! I know my talking about 
 business makes you want to choke me, doesn t it? 
 
 ROBERT, (with an embarrassed smile) No, Andy, I I just 
 happened to think of something else. (Frowning) There ve 
 been lots of times lately that I ve wished I had some of your 
 faculty for business. 
 
 ANDREW, (soberly) There s something I want to talk about, 
 Rob, the farm. You don t mind, do you? 
 
 ROBERT. No. 
 
 ANDREW. I walked over it this morning with Ruth and 
 
82 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 she told me about things (Evasively) I could see the 
 
 place had run down; but you mustn t blame yourself. When 
 luck s against anyone 
 
 ROBERT. Don t, Andy ! It is my fault. You know it as 
 well as I do. The best I ve ever done was to make ends 
 meet. 
 
 ANDREW, (after a pause) I ve got over a thousand saved, 
 and you can have that. 
 
 ROBERT, (firmly) No. You need that for your start in 
 Buenos Aires. 
 
 ANDREW. I don t. I can 
 
 ROBERT, (determinedly) No, Andy! Once and for all, no! 
 I won t hear of it! 
 
 ANDREW, (protestingly) You obstinate old son of a gun ! 
 
 ROBERT. Oh, everything ll be on a sound footing after harvest. 
 Don t worry about it. 
 
 ANDREW, (doubtfully) Maybe. (After a pause) It s too 
 bad Pa couldn t have lived to see things through. (With feel 
 ing) It cut me up a lot hearing he was dead. He never 
 softened up, did he about me, I mean? 
 
 ROBERT. He never understood, that s a kinder way of put 
 ting it. He does now. 
 
 ANDREW, (after a pause) You ve forgotten all about what 
 caused me to go, haven t you, Rob? (ROBERT nods but keeps 
 his face averted) I was a slushier damn fool in those days 
 than you were. But it was an act of Providence I did go- 
 It opened my eyes to how I d been fooling myself. Why ; 
 I d forgotten all about that before I d been at sea six 
 months. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 
 
 ROBERT, (turns and looks into ANDREW S eyes searchingly) 
 You re speaking of Ruth? 
 
 ANDREW, (confused) Yes. I didn t want you to get false 
 notions in your head, or I wouldn t say anything. (Looking 
 ROBERT squarely in the eyes) I m telling you the truth when 
 I say I d forgotten long ago. It don t sound well for me, 
 getting over things so easy, but I guess it never really amounted 
 to more than a kid idea I was letting rule me. I m certain now 
 I never was in love I was getting fun out of thinking I was 
 and being a hero to myself. (He heaves a great sigh of 
 relief) There! Gosh, I m glad that s off my chest. I ve 
 been feeling sort of awkward ever since I ve been home, think 
 ing of what you two might think. (A trace of appeal in his 
 voice) You ve got it all straight now, haven t you, Rob? 
 
 ROBERT, (in a low voice) Yes, Andy. 
 
 ANDREW. And I ll tell Ruth, too, if I can get up the nerve. 
 She must feel kind of funny having me round after what used 
 to be and not knowing how I feel about it. 
 
 ROBERT, (slowly) Perhaps for her sake you d better 
 not tell her. 
 
 ANDREW. For her sake? Oh, you mean she wouldn t want 
 to be reminded of my foolishness? Still, I think it d be worse 
 if 
 
 ROBERT, (breaking out in an agonized voice) Do as you 
 please, Andy; but for God s sake, let s not talk about it! (There 
 is a pause. ANDREW stares at ROBERT in hurt stupefaction. 
 ROBERT continues after a moment in a voice which he vainly 
 attempts to keep calm) Excuse me, Andy. This rotten head 
 ache has my nerves shot to pieces. 
 
84 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ANDREW, (mumbling) It s all right, Rob long as you re 
 not sore at me. 
 
 ROBERT. Where did Uncle Dick disappear to this morning? 
 
 ANDREW. He went down to the port to see to things on the 
 Sunda. He said he didn t know exactly when he d be back. 
 I ll have to go down and tend to the ship when he comes. That s 
 why I dressed up in these togs. 
 
 MARY, (pointing down the hill to the left) See ! Mama ! 
 Mama ! (She struggles to her feet. RUTH appears at left. She 
 is dressed in white, shows she has been fixing up. She look* 
 pretty, flushed and full of life). 
 
 MARY, (running to her mother) Mama ! 
 
 RUTH, (kissing her) Hello, dear! (She walks toward the 
 rock and addresses ROBERT coldly) Jake wants to see you about 
 something. He finished working where he was. He s waiting 
 for you at the road. 
 
 ROBERT, (getting up wearily) I ll go down right away. 
 (As he looks at RUTH, noting her changed appearance, his face 
 darkens with pain). 
 
 RUTH. And take Mary with you, please. (To MARY) Go 
 with Dada, that s a good girl. Grandma has your dinner most 
 ready for you. 
 
 ROBERT, (shortly) Come, Mary! 
 
 MARY, (taking his hand and dancing happily beside him) 
 Dada! Dada! (They go down the hill to the left. RUTH 
 looks after them for a moment, frowning then turns to ANDY 
 with a smile) I m going to sit down. Come on, Andy. It ll 
 be like old times. (She jumps lightly to the top of the rock 
 <ind sits down) It s so fine and cool up here after the house. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 85 
 
 ANDREW, (half-sitting on the side of the boulder) Yes. 
 It s great. 
 
 RUTH. I ve taken a holiday in honor of your arrival. (Laugh 
 ing excitedly) I feel so free I d like to have wings and fly 
 over the sea. You re a man. You can t know how awful and 
 stupid it is cooking and washing dishes all the time. 
 
 ANDREW, (making a wry face) I can guess. 
 
 RUTH. Besides, your mother just insisted on getting your 
 first dinner to home, she s that happy at having you back. 
 You d think I was planning to poison you the flurried way she 
 shooed me out of the kitchen. 
 
 ANDREW. That s just like Ma, bless her! 
 
 RUTH. She s missed you terrible. We all have. And you 
 can t deny the farm has, after what I showed you and told you 
 when we was looking over the place this morning. 
 
 ANDREW, (with a frown) Things are run down, that s a 
 fact ! It s too darn hard on poor old Rob. 
 
 RUTH, (scornfully) It s his own fault. He never takes 
 any interest in things. 
 
 ANDREW, (reprovingly) You can t blame him. He wasn t 
 born for it; but I know he s done his best for your sake and 
 the old folks and the little girl. 
 
 RUTH, (indifferently) Yes, I suppose he has. (Gayly) But 
 thank the Lord, all those days are over now. The "hard luck" 
 Rob s always blaming won t last long when you take hold, 
 Andy. All the farm s ever needed was someone with the 
 knack of looking ahead and preparing for what s going to 
 happen. 
 
 ANDREW. Yes, Rob hasn t got that. He s frank to own up 
 to that himself. I m going to try and hire a good man for 
 
86 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 him an experienced farmer to work the place on a salary 
 and percentage. That ll take it off of Rob s hands, and he 
 needn t be worrying himself to death any more. He looks all 
 worn out, Ruth. He ought to be careful. 
 
 RUTH, {absent-mindedly) Yes, I s pose. (Her mind is 
 filed with premonitions by the first part of his statement) 
 Why do you want to hire a man to oversee things? Seems as if 
 now that you re back it wouldn t be needful. 
 
 ANDREW. Oh, of course I ll attend to everything while I m 
 here. I mean after I m gone. 
 
 RUTH, (as if she couldn t believe her ears) Gone ! 
 
 ANDREW. Yes. When I leave for the Argentine again. 
 
 RUTH, (aghast) You re going away to sea ! 
 
 ANDREW. Not to sea, no; I m through with the sea for good 
 as a job. I m going down to Buenos Aires to get in the grain 
 business. 
 
 RUTH. But that s far off isn t it? 
 
 ANDREW, (easily) Six thousand miles more or less. It s 
 quite a trip. (With enthusiasm) I ve got a peach of a chance 
 down there, Ruth. Ask Rob if I haven t. I ve just been telling 
 him all about it. 
 
 RUTH, (a flush of anger coming over her face) And didn t 
 he try to stop you from going? 
 
 ANDREW, (in surprise) No, of course not. Why? 
 
 RUTH, (slowly and vindictively) That s just like him 
 not to. 
 
 ANDREW, (resentfully) Rob s too good a chum to try and 
 stop me when he knows I m set on a thing. And he could 
 see just as soon s I told him what a good chance it was. 
 
 RUTH, (dazedly) And you re bound on going? 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 87 
 
 ANDREW. Sure thing. Oh, I don t mean right off. I ll have 
 to wait for a ship sailing there for quite a while, likely. Any 
 way, I want to stay to home and visit with you folks a spell 
 before I go. 
 
 RUTH, (dumbly) I s pose. (With sudden anguish) Oh, 
 Andy, you can t go ! You can t. Why we ve all thought 
 we ve all been hoping and praying you was coming home to 
 stay, to settle down on the farm and see to things. You 
 mustn t go ! Think of how your Ma ll take on if you go 
 and how the farm ll be ruined if you leave it to Rob to look 
 after. You can see that. 
 
 ANDREW, (frowning) Rob hasn t done so bad. When I 
 get a man to direct things the farm ll be safe enough. 
 
 RUTH, (insistently) But your Ma think of her. 
 
 ANDREW. She s used to me being away. She won t object 
 when she knows it s best for her and all of us for me to go. 
 You ask Rob. In a couple of years down there I ll make my 
 pile, see if I don t; and then I ll come back and settle down 
 and turn this farm into the crackiest place in the whole state. 
 In the meantime, I can help you both from down there. 
 (Earnestly) I tell you, Ruth, I m going to make good right 
 from the minute I land, if working hard and a determination 
 to get on can do it ; and I know they can ! (Excitedly in a 
 rather boastful tone) I tell you, I feel ripe for bigger things 
 than settling down here. The trip did that for me, anyway. 
 It showed me the world is a larger proposition than ever I 
 thought it was in the old days. I couldn t be content any more 
 stuck here like a fly in molasses. It all seems trifling, some 
 how. You ought to be able to understand what I feel. 
 
 RUTH, (dully) Yes I s pose I ought. (After a pause a 
 
88 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 sudden suspicion forming in her mind) What did Rob tell you 
 -about me? 
 
 ANDREW. Tell? About you? Why, nothing. 
 
 RUTH, (staring at him intensely) Are you telling me the 
 truth, Andy Mayo? Didn t he say I (She stops con 
 fusedly). 
 
 ANDREW, (surprised) No, he didn t mention you, I can 
 remember. Why? What made you think he did? 
 
 RUTH, (wringing her hands) Oh, I wish I could tell if 
 you re lying or not ! 
 
 ANDREW, (indignantly) What re you talking about? I 
 didn t used to lie to you, did I? And what in the name of 
 God is there to lie for? 
 
 RUTH, (still unconvinced) Are you sure will you swear 
 
 it isn t the reason (She lowers her eyes and half turns 
 
 away from him) The same reason that made you go last time 
 that s driving you away again? Cause if it is I was going to 
 say you mustn t go on that account. (Her voice sinks to a 
 tremulous, tender whisper as she finishes). 
 
 ANDREW, (confused forces a laugh) Oh, is that what 
 you re driving at? Well, you needn t worry about that no 
 more (Soberly) I don t blame you, Ruth, feeling em 
 barrassed having me around again, after the way I played 
 the dumb fool about going away last time. 
 
 RUTH, (her hope crushed with a gasp of pain) Oh, Andy ! 
 
 ANDREW, (misunderstanding) I know I oughtn t to talk 
 about such foolishness to you. Still I figure it s better to get 
 it out of my system so s we three can be together same s years 
 ago, and not be worried thinking one of us might have the 
 wrong notion 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 89 
 
 RUTH. Andy! Please! Don t! 
 
 ANDREW. Let me finish now that I ve started. It ll help 
 clear things up. I don t want you to think once a fool always 
 a fool, and be upset all the time I m here on my fool account. 
 I want you to believe I put all that silly nonsense back of me 
 a long time ago and now it seems well as if you d always 
 been my sister, that s what, Ruth. 
 
 RUTH, (at the end of her endurance laughing hysterically) 
 For God s sake, Andy won t you please stop talking! (She 
 again hides her face in her hands, her bowed shoulders trem 
 bling). 
 
 ANDREW, (ruefully) Seem s if I put my foot in it whenever 
 I open my mouth today. Rob shut me up with almost the same 
 words when I tried speaking to him about it. 
 
 RUTH, (fiercely) You told him what you ve told me? 
 
 ANDREW, (astounded) Why sure ! Why not ? 
 
 RUTH, (shuddering) Oh, my God ! 
 
 ANDREW, (alarmed) Why? Shouldn t I have? 
 
 RUTH, (hysterically) Oh, I don t care what you do ! I 
 don t care ! Leave me alone ! (ANDREW gets up and walks 
 down the hill to the left, embarrassed, hurt, and greatly puzzled 
 by her behavior). 
 
 ANDREW, (after a pause pointing down the hill) Hello! 
 Here they come back and the Captain s with them. How d 
 he come to get back so soon, I wonder? That means I ve got 
 to hustle down to the port and get on board. Rob s got the 
 baby with him. (He comes back to the boulder. RUTH keeps 
 her face averted from him) Gosh, I never saw a father so 
 tied up in a kid as Rob is! He just watches every move she 
 makes. And I don t blame him. You both got a right to feel 
 
90 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 proud of her. She s surely a little winner. {He glances at 
 RUTH to see if this very obvious attempt to get back in her good 
 graces is having any effect} I can see the likeness to Rob 
 standing out all over her, can t you? But there s no denying 
 she s your young one, either. There s something about her 
 eyes 
 
 RUTH, (piteously} Oh, Andy, I ve a headache! I don t 
 want to talk! Leave me alone, won t you please? 
 
 ANDREW, (stands staring at her for a moment then walks 
 away saying in a hurt tone} : Everybody hereabouts seems to 
 be on edge today. I begin to feel as if I m not wanted around. 
 (He stands near the path, left, kicking at the grass with the toe 
 of his shoe. A moment later CAPTAIN DICK SCOTT enters, fol 
 lowed by ROBERT carrying MARY. The CAPTAIN seems scarcely 
 to have changed at all from the jovial, booming person he was 
 three years before. He wears a uniform similar to ANDREW S. 
 He is puffing and breathless from his climb and mops wildly at 
 his perspiring countenance. ROBERT casts a quick glance at 
 ANDREW, noticing the latter s discomfited look, and then turns 
 his eyes on RUTH who, at their approach, has moved so her back 
 is toward them, her chin resting on her hands as she stares out 
 seaward} . 
 
 MARY. Mama ! Mama ! (ROBERT puts her down and she 
 runs to her mother. RUTH turns and grabs her up in her arms 
 with a sudden fierce tenderness, quickly turning away again 
 from the others. During the following scene she keeps MARY 
 in her arms}. 
 
 SCOTT, (wheezily} Phew ! I got great news for you, Andy. 
 Let me get my wind first. Phew ! God A mighty, mountin 
 this damned hill is worser n goin aloft to the skys l yard in a 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 91 
 
 blow. I got to lay to a while. (He sits down on the grass, 
 mopping his face). 
 
 ANDREW. I didn t look for you this soon, Uncle. 
 
 SCOTT. I didn t figger it, neither; but I run across a bit o 
 news down to the Seamen s Home made me bout ship and set 
 all sail back here to find you. 
 
 ANDREW, (eagerly) What is it, Uncle? 
 
 SCOTT. Passin by the Home I thought I d drop in an let 
 em know I d be lackin a mate next trip count o your leavin . 
 Their man in charge o the shippin asked after you special 
 curious. "Do you think he d consider a berth as Second on a 
 steamer, Captain?" he asks. I was goin to say no when I 
 thinks o you wantin to get back down south to the Plate 
 agen; so I asks him: "What is she and where s she bound?" 
 "She s the El Paso, a brand new tramp," he says, "and she s 
 bound for Buenos Aires." 
 
 ANDREW, (his eyes lighting up excitedly) Gosh, that is 
 luck! When does she sail? 
 
 SCOTT. Tomorrow mornin . I didn t know if you d want to 
 ship away agen so quick an I told him so. "Tell him I ll hold 
 the berth open for him until late this afternoon," he says. So 
 there you be, an you can make your own choice. 
 
 ANDREW. I d like to take it. There may not be another ship 
 for Buenos Aires with a vacancy in months. (His eyes roving 
 from ROBERT to RUTH and back again uncertainly) Still 
 damn it all tomorrow morning is soon. I wish she wasn t 
 leaving for a week or so. That d give me a chance it seems 
 hard to go right away again when I ve just got home. And 
 
 yet it s a chance in a thousand (Appealing to ROBERT) 
 
 What do you think, Rob? What would you do? 
 
92 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ROBERT, (forcing a smile) He who hesitates, you know. 
 (Frowning ) It s a piece of good luck thrown in your way 
 and I think you owe it to yourself to jump at it. But don t 
 ask me to decide for you. 
 
 RUTH, (turning to look at ANDREW in a tone of fierce re 
 sentment) Yes, go, Andy! (She turns quickly away again. 
 There is a moment of embarrassed silence). 
 
 ANDREW, (thoughtfully) Yes, I guess I will. It ll be the 
 best thing for all of us in the end, don t you think so, Rob? 
 (ROBERT nods but remains silent). 
 
 SCOTT, (getting to his feet) Then, that s settled. 
 
 ANDREW, (now that he has definitely made a decision his 
 voice rings with hopeful strength and energy) Yes, I ll take 
 the berth. The sooner I go the sooner I ll be back, that s a 
 certainty; and I won t come back with empty hands next time. 
 You bet I won t ! 
 
 SCOTT. You ain t got so much time, Andy. To make sure 
 you d best leave here soon s you kin. I got to get right back 
 aboard. You d best come with me. 
 
 ANDREW. I ll go to the house and repack my bag right away. 
 
 ROBERT, (quietly) You ll both be here for dinner, won t 
 you? 
 
 ANDREW, (worriedly) I don t know. Will there be time? 
 What time is it now, I wonder? 
 
 ROBERT, (reproachfully) Ma s been getting dinner espe 
 cially for you, Andy. 
 
 ANDREW, (flushing shamefacedly) Hell ! And I was for 
 getting ! Of course I ll stay for dinner if I missed every damned 
 ship in the world. (He turns to the CAPTAIN briskly) Come 
 on, Uncle. Walk down with me to the house and you can tell 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 93 
 
 me more about this berth on the way. I ve got to pack before 
 dinner. (He and the CAPTAIN start down to the left. ANDREW 
 calls back over his shoulder) You re coming soon, aren t you, 
 Rob? 
 
 ROBERT. Yes. I ll be right down. (ANDREW and the CAP 
 TAIN leave. RUTH puts MARY on the ground and hides her face 
 in her hands. Her shoulders shake as if she were sobbing. 
 ROBERT stares at her with a grim, somber expression. MARY 
 walks backward toward ROBERT, her wondering eyes fixed on her 
 mother). 
 
 MARY, (her voice vaguely frightened , taking her father s 
 hand) Dada, Mama s cryin , Dada. 
 
 ROBERT, (bending down and stroking her hair in a voice 
 he endeavors to keep from being harsh) No, she isn t, little 
 girl. The sun hurts her eyes, that s all. Aren t you beginning 
 to feel hungry, Mary? 
 
 MARY, (decidedly) Yes, Dada. 
 
 ROBERT, (meaningly) It must be your dinner time now. 
 
 RUTH, (in a muffled voice) I m coming, Mary. (She wipes 
 her eyes quickly and, without looking at ROBERT, comes and 
 takes MARY S hand in a dead voice) Come on and I ll get your 
 dinner for you. (She walks out left, her eyes fixed on the 
 ground, the skipping MARY tugging at her hand. ROBERT waits 
 a moment for them to get ahead and then slowly follows as 
 
 (The Curtain Falls) 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 
 ACT THREE 
 
ACT THREE 
 
 SCENE ONE 
 
 Same as Act Two, Scene One The sitting room of the farm 
 house about six o clock in the morning of a day toward the end 
 of October -five years later. It is not yet dawn, but as the 
 action progresses the darkness outside the windows gradually 
 fades to gray. 
 
 The room, seen by the light of the shadeless oil lamp with a 
 smoky chimney which stands on the table, presents an appear 
 ance of decay, of dissolution. The curtains at the windows are 
 torn and dirty and one of them is missing. The closed desk is 
 gray with accumulated dust as if it had not been used in years. 
 Blotches of dampness disfigure the wall paper. Threadbare 
 trails, leading to the kitchen and outer doors, show in the faded 
 carpet. The top of the coverless table is stained with the im 
 prints of hot dishes and spilt food. The rung of one rocker has 
 been clumsily mended with a piece of plain board. A brown 
 coating of rust covers the unblocked stove. A pile of wood is 
 stacked up carelessly against the wall by the stove. 
 
 The whole atmosphere of the room, contrasted with that of 
 former years, is one of an habitual poverty too hopelessly re 
 signed to be any longer ashamed or even conscious of itself. 
 
 At the rise of the curtain RUTH is discovered sitting by the 
 stove, with hands outstretched to the warmth as if the air in the 
 room were damp and cold. A heavy shawl is wrapped about 
 
 her shoulders, half-concealing her dress of deep mourning. She 
 
 97 
 
98 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 has aged horribly. Her pale, deeply lined face has the stony 
 lack of expression of one to whom nothing more can ever happen, 
 whose capacity for emotion has been exhausted. When she 
 speaks her voice is without timbre, low and monotonous. The 
 negligent disorder of her dress, the slovenly arrangement of 
 her hair, now streaked with gray, her muddied shoes run down 
 at the heel, give full evidence of the apathy in which she lives. 
 
 Her mother is asleep in her wheel chair beside the stove to 
 ward the rear, wrapped up in a blanket. 
 
 There is a sound from the open bedroom door in the rear as 
 if someone were getting out of bed. RUTH turns in that direction 
 with a look of dull annoyance. A moment later ROBERT appears 
 in the doorway, leaning weakly against it for support. His hair 
 is long and unkempt, his face and body emaciated. There are 
 bright patches of crimson over his cheek bones and his eyes are 
 burning with fever. He is dressed in corduroy pants, a flannel 
 shirt, and wears worn carpet slippers on his bare feet. 
 
 RUTH, (dully) S-s-s-h- ! Ma s asleep. 
 
 ROBERT, (speaking with an effort) I won t wake her. (He 
 walks weakly to a rocker by the side of the table and sinks down 
 in it exhausted). 
 
 RUTH, (staring at the stove) You better come near the fire 
 where it s warm. 
 
 ROBERT. No. I m burning up now. 
 
 RUTH. That s the fever. You know the doctor told you not 
 to get up and move round. 
 
 ROBERT, (irritably) That old fossil ! He doesn t know any 
 thing. Go to bed and stay there that s his only prescription. 
 
 RUTH, (indifferently) How are you feeling now? 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 99 
 
 ROBERT, (buoyantly) Better! Much better than I ve felt 
 in ages. Really I m fine now only very weak. It s the turn 
 ing point, I guess. From now on I ll pick up so quick I ll 
 surprise you and no thanks to that old fool of a country quack, 
 either. 
 
 RUTH. He s always tended to us. 
 
 ROBERT. Always helped us to die, you mean! He "tended" 
 to Pa and Ma and (hi* voice breaks) and to Mary. 
 
 RUTH, (dully) He did the best he knew, I s pose. (After 
 a pause) Well, Andy s bringing a specialist with him when he 
 comes. That ought to suit you. 
 
 ROBERT, (bitterly) Is that why you re waiting up all night? 
 
 RUTH. Yes. 
 
 ROBERT. For Andy? 
 
 RUTH, (without a trace of feeling) Somebody had got to. 
 It s only right for someone to meet him after he s been gone 
 five years. 
 
 ROBERT, (with bitter mockery) Five years! It s a long 
 time. 
 
 RUTH. Yes. 
 
 ROBERT, (meaningly) To wait! 
 
 RUTH, (indifferently) It s past now. 
 
 ROBERT. Yes, it s past. (After a pause) Have you got his 
 two telegrams with you? (RUTH nods) Let me see them, will 
 you? My head was so full of fever when they came I couldn t 
 make head or tail to them. (Hastily) But I m feeling fine 
 now. Let me read them again. (RUTH takes them from the 
 bosom of her dress and hands them to him). 
 
 RUTH. Here. The first one s on top. 
 
 ROBERT, (opening it) New York. "Just landed from 
 
100 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 steamer. Have important business to wind up here. Will be 
 home as soon as deal is completed." (He smiles bitterly) Busi 
 ness first was always Andy s motto (He reads) "Hope you 
 are all well. Andy." (He repeats ironically) "Hope you are 
 all well!" 
 
 RUTH, (dully) He couldn t know you d been took sick till 
 I answered that and told him. 
 
 ROBERT, (contritely) Of course he couldn t. I m a fool. 
 I m touchy about nothing lately. Just what did you say in 
 your reply? 
 
 RUTH, (inconsequentially) I had to send it collect. 
 
 ROBERT, (irritably) What did you say was the matter with 
 me? 
 
 RUTH. I wrote you had lung trouble. 
 
 ROBERT, (flying into a petty temper) You are a fool ! How 
 often have I explained to you that it s pleurisy is the matter 
 with me. You can t seem to get it in your head that the pleura 
 is outside the lungs, not in them! 
 
 RUTH, (callously) I only wrote what Doctor Smith told me. 
 
 ROBERT, (angrily) He s a damned ignoramus ! 
 
 RUTH, (dully) Makes no difference. I had to tell Andy 
 something, didn t I? 
 
 ROBERT, (after a pause f opening the other telegram) He 
 sent this last evening. Let s see. (He reads) "Leave for 
 home on midnight train. Just received your wire. Am bringing 
 specialist to see Rob. Will motor to farm from Port." (He 
 calculates) What time is it now? 
 
 RUTH. Round six, must be. 
 
 ROBERT. He ought to be here soon. I m glad he s bringing 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 101 
 
 a doctor who knows something. A specialist will tell you in a 
 second that there s nothing the matter with my lungs. 
 
 RUTH, (stolidly) You ve been coughing an awful lot lately. 
 
 ROBERT, (irritably) What nonsense ! For God s sake, 
 haven t you ever had a bad cold yourself? (RUTH stares at the 
 stove in silence. ROBERT fidgets in his chair. There is a pause. 
 Finally ROBERT S eyes are fixed on the sleeping MRS. ATKINS) 
 Your mother is lucky to be able to sleep so soundly. 
 
 RUTH. Ma s tired. She s been sitting up with me most of the 
 night. 
 
 ROBERT, (mockingly) Is she waiting for Andy, too? (There 
 is a pause. ROBERT sighs) I couldn t get to sleep to save my 
 soul. I counted ten million sheep if I counted one. No use ! 
 I gave up trying finally and just laid there in the dark think 
 ing. (He pauses, then continues in a tone of tender sympathy) 
 I was thinking about you, Ruth of how hard these last years 
 must have been for you. (Appealingly) I m sorry, Ruth. 
 
 RUTH, (in a dead voice) I don t know. They re past now. 
 They were hard on all of us. 
 
 ROBERT. Yes; on all of us but Andy. (With a flash of sick 
 jealousy) Andy s made a big success of himself the kind he 
 wanted. (Mockingly) And now he s coming home to let us 
 admire his greatness. (Frowning irritably) What am I talk 
 ing about? My brain must be sick, too. (After a pause) Yes, 
 these years have been terrible for both of us. (His voice is 
 lowered to a trembling whisper) Especially the last eight 
 months since Mary died. (He forces back a sob with a con 
 vulsive shudder then breaks out in a passionate agony) Our 
 last hope of happiness! I could curse God from the bottom 
 of my soul if there was a God! (He is racked by a violent 
 
102 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 jit of coughing and hurriedly puts his handkerchief to his lips). 
 
 RUTH, (without looking at him) Mary s better off being 
 dead. 
 
 ROBERT, (gloomily) We d all be better off for that matter. 
 (With a sudden exasperation) You tell that mother of yours 
 she s got to stop saying that Mary s death was due to a weak con 
 stitution inherited from me. (On the verge of tears of weakness) 
 It s got to stop,, I tell you! 
 
 RUTH, (sharply) S-h-h ! You ll wake her; and then she ll 
 nag at me not you. 
 
 ROBERT, (coughs and lies back in his chair weakly a pause) 
 It s all because your mother s down on me for not begging 
 Andy for help. 
 
 RUTH, (resentfully) You might have. He s got plenty. 
 
 ROBERT. How can you of all people think of taking money 
 from him? 
 
 RUTH, (dully) I don t see the harm. He s your own 
 brother. 
 
 ROBERT, (shrugging his shoulders) What s the use of talk 
 ing to you? Well, I couldn t. (Proudly) And I ve managed 
 to keep things going, thank God. You can t deny that without 
 
 help I ve succeeded in (He breaks off with a bitter laugh) 
 
 My God, what am I boasting of? Debts to this one and that, 
 taxes, interest unpaid ! I m a fool ! (He lies back in his chair 
 closing his eyes for a moment, then speaks in a low voice) 
 I ll be frank, Ruth. I ve been an utter failure, and I ve 
 dragged you with me. I couldn t blame you in all justice for 
 hating me. 
 
 RUTH, (without feeling) I don t hate you. It s been my 
 fault too, I s pose. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 103 
 
 ROBERT. No. You couldn t help loving Andy. 
 
 RUTH, (dully) I don t love anyone. 
 
 ROBERT, (waving her remark aside) You needn t deny it. 
 It doesn t matter. (After a pause with a tender smile) Do 
 you know Ruth, what I ve been dreaming back there in the 
 dark? (With a short laugh) I was planning our future when 
 I get well. (He looks at her with appealing eyes as if afraid 
 she will sneer at him. Her expression does not change. She 
 stares at the stove. His voice takes on a note of eagerness) 
 After all, why shouldn t we have a future? We re young yet. 
 If we can only shake off the curse of this farm!_ It s the farm 
 that s ruined our lives, damn it! And now that Andy s coming 
 b ac k I m going to sink my foolish pride, Ruth! I ll borrow 
 the money from him to give us a good start in the city. We ll 
 go where people live instead of stagnating, and start all over 
 again. (Confidently} I won t be the failure there that I ve 
 been here, Ruth. You won t need to be ashamed of me there. 
 I ll prove to you the reading I ve done can be put to some use. 
 
 (Vaguely) I ll write, or something of that sort. Tve always 
 
 wanted to write. (Pleadingly) You ll want to do that, won t 
 you, Ruth? 
 
 RUTH, (dully) There s Ma. 
 
 ROBERT. She can come with us. 
 
 RUTH. She wouldn t. 
 
 ROBERT, (angrily) So that s your answer! (He trembles 
 with violent passion. His voice is so strange that RUTH turns 
 to look at him in alarm) You re lying, Ruth! Your mother s 
 just an excuse. You want to stay here. You think that because 
 Andy s coming back that - (He chokes and has an attack of 
 coughing). 
 
104 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 RUTH, (getting up in a frightened voice) What s the mat 
 ter? (She goes to him) I ll go with you, Rob. Stop that 
 coughing for goodness sake ! It s awful bad for you. (She 
 soothes him in dull tones) I ll go with you to the city soon s 
 you re well again. Honest I will, Rob, I promise ! (ROB lies 
 back and closes his eyes. She stands looking down at him 
 anxiously) Do you feel better now? 
 
 ROBERT. Yes. (RUTH goes back to her chair. After a pause 
 he opens his eyes and sits up in his chair. His face is flushed 
 and happy) Then you will go, Ruth? 
 
 RUTH. Yes. 
 
 ROBERT, (excitedly) We ll make a new start, Ruth just 
 you and I. Life owes us some happiness after what we ve been 
 through. (Vehemently) It must! Otherwise our suffering 
 would be meaningless and that is unthinkable. 
 
 RUTH, (worried by his excitement) Yes, yes, of course, 
 Rob, but you mustn t 
 
 ROBERT. Oh, don t be afraid. I feel completely well, really 
 I do now that I can hope again. Oh if you knew how glorious 
 it feels to have something to look forward to! Can t you feel 
 the thrill of it, too the vision of a new life opening up after 
 all the horrible years? 
 
 RUTH. Yes, yes, but do be 
 
 ROBERT. Nonsense! I won t be careful. I m getting back 
 all my strength. (He gets lightly to his feet) See! I feel 
 light as a feather. (He walks to her chair and bends down to 
 kiss her smilingly) One kiss the first in years, isn t it? to 
 greet the dawn of a new life together. 
 
 RUTH, (submitting to his kiss worriedly) Sit down, Rob, 
 for goodness sake ! 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 105 
 
 ROBERT, (with tender obstinacy stroking her hair) I won t 
 sit down. You re silly to worry. (He rests one hand on the 
 back of her chair) Listen. All our suffering has been a test 
 through which we had to pass to prove ourselves worthy of a 
 finer realization. (Exultingly) And we did pass through it! 
 It hasn t broken us ! And now the dream is to come true ! 
 Don t you see? 
 
 RUTH, (looking at him with frightened eyes as if she thought 
 he had gone mad) Yes,, Rob, I see; but won t you go back 
 to bed now and rest? 
 
 ROBERT. No. I m going to see the sun rise. It s an augury 
 of good fortune. (He goes quickly to the window in the rear 
 left, and pushing the curtains aside, stands looking out. RUTH 
 springs to her feet and comes quickly to the table, left, where 
 she remains watching ROBERT in a tense, expectant attitude. As 
 he peers out his body seems gradually to sag, to grow limp and 
 tired. His voice is mournful as he speaks) No sun yet. It 
 isn t time. All I can see is the black rim of the damned hills 
 outlined against a creeping grayness. (He turns around; letting 
 the curtains fall back, stretching a hand out to the wall to sup 
 port himself. His false strength of a moment has evaporated 
 leaving his face drawn and hollow-eyed. He makes a pitiful 
 attempt to smile) That s not a very happy augury, is it? But 
 the sun ll come soon. (He sways weakly), i 
 
 RUTH, (hurrying to his side and supporting him) Please 
 go to bed, won t you, Rob? You don t want to be all wore out 
 when the specialist comes, do you? 
 
 ROBERT. (quickly) No. That s right. He mustn t think 
 I m sicker than I am. And I feel as if I could sleep now 
 (Cheerfully) a good, sound, restful sleep. 
 
106 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 RUTH, (helping him to the bedroom door) That s what you 
 need most. (They go inside. A moment later she reappears 
 calling back) I ll shut this door so s you ll be quiet. (She 
 closes the door and goes quickly to her mother and shakes her 
 by the shoulder) Ma ! Ma ! Wake up ! 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (coming out of her sleep with a start) Glory 
 be! What s the matter with you? 
 
 RUTH. It was Rob. He s just been talking to me out here. 
 I put him back to bed. (Now that she is sure her mother is 
 awake her fear passes and she relapses into dull indifference. 
 She sits down in her chair and stares at the stove dully) He 
 acted funny; and his eyes looked so so wild like. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (with asperity) And is that all you woke 
 me out of a sound sleep for, and scared me near out of my wits? 
 
 RUTH. I was afraid. He talked so crazy. I couldn t quiet 
 him. I didn t want to be alone with him that way. Lord 
 knows what he might do. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (scornfully) Humph! A help I d be to you 
 and me not able to move a step ! Why didn t you run and get 
 Jake? 
 
 RUTH, (dully) Jake isn t here. He quit last night. He 
 hasn t been paid in three months. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (indignantly) I can t blame him. What de 
 cent person d want to work on a place like this? (With sudden 
 exasperation) Oh, I wish you d never married that man! 
 
 RUTH, (wearily) You oughtn t to talk about him now when 
 he s sick in his bed. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (working herself into a fit of rage) You know 
 very well, Ruth Mayo, if it wasn t for me helpin you on the 
 sly out of my savin s, you d both been in the poor house and 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 107 
 
 all count of his pigheaded pride in not lettin Andy know the 
 state thin s were in. A nice thin for me to have to support 
 him out of what I d saved for my last days and me an invalid 
 with no one to look to! 
 
 RUTH. Andy 11 pay you back, Ma. I can tell him so s Rob ll 
 never know. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (with a snort) What d Rob think you and 
 him was livin on, I d like to know? 
 
 RUTH, (dully} He didn t think about it, I s pose. (After 
 a slight pause} He said he d made up his mind to ask Andy 
 for help when he comes. (As a clock in the kitchen strikes six) 
 Six o clock. Andy ought to get here directly. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS. D you think this special doctor 11 do Rob any 
 good? 
 
 RUTH, (hopelessly) I don t know. (The two women re 
 main silent for a time staring dejectedly at the stove). 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (shivering irritably) For goodness sake put 
 some wood on that fire. I m most freezin ! 
 
 RUTH, (pointing to the door in the rear) Don t talk so 
 loud. Let him sleep if he can. (She gets wearily from the 
 chair and puts a few pieces of wood in the stove) This is the 
 last of the wood. I don t know who ll cut more now that Jake s 
 left. (She sighs and walks to the window in the rear, left, pulls 
 the curtains aside, and looks out} It s getting gray out. (She 
 comes back to tke stove) Looks like it d be a nice day. (She 
 stretches out her hands to warm them) Must ve been a heavy 
 frost last night. We re paying for the spell of warm weather 
 we ve been having. (The throbbing whine of a motor sounds 
 from the distance outside). 
 
108 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (sharply) S-h-h ! Listen ! Ain t that an auto 
 I hear? 
 
 RUTH, (without interest) Yes. It s Andy, I s pose. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (with nervous irritation) Don t sit there like 
 a silly goose. Look at the state of this room! What 11 this 
 strange doctor think of us? Look at that lamp chimney all 
 smoke! Gracious sakes, Ruth 
 
 RUTH, (indifferently) I ve got a lamp all cleaned up in the 
 kitchen. 
 
 MRS. ATKINS, (peremptorily) Wheel me in there this min 
 ute. I don t want him to see me looking a sight. I ll lay 
 down in the room the other side. You don t need me now and 
 I m dead for sleep. (RUTH wheels her mother off right. The 
 noise of the motor grows louder and finally ceases as the car 
 stops on the road before the farmhouse. RUTH returns from the 
 kitchen with a lighted lamp in her hand which she sets on the 
 table beside the other. The sound of footsteps on the path 
 is heard then a sharp rap on the door. RUTH goes and opens 
 it. ANDREW enters, followed by DOCTOR FAWCETT carrying a 
 small black bag. ANDREW has changed greatly. His face seems 
 to have grown highstrung, hardened by the look of decisiveness 
 which comes from being constantly under a strain where judg 
 ments on the spur of the moment are compelled to be aceurate. 
 His eyes are keener and more alert. There is even a suggestion 
 of ruthless cunning about them. At present, however, his ex 
 pression is one of tense anxiety. DOCTOR FAWCETT is a short, 
 dark, middle-aged man with a Vandyke beard. He wears 
 glasses). 
 
 RUTH. Hello, Andy! I ve been waiting 
 
 ANDREW, (kissing her hastily) I got here as soon as I could. 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 109 
 
 (He throws off his cap and heavy overcoat on the table, intro 
 ducing RUTH and the DOCTOR as he does so. He is dressed in an 
 expensive business suit and appears stouter) My sister-in-law, 
 Mrs. Mayo Doctor Fawcett. (They bow to each other silently. 
 ANDREW casts a quick glance about the room) Where s Rob? 
 
 RUTH, (pointing) In there. 
 
 ANDREW. I ll take your coat and hat, Doctor. (As he helps 
 the DOCTOR with his things) Is he very bad, Ruth? 
 
 RUTH, (dully) He s been getting weaker. 
 
 ANDREW. Damn ! This way, Doctor. Bring the lamp, Ruth. 
 (He goes into the bedroom, followed by the DOCTOR and RUTH 
 carrying the clean lamp. RUTH reappears almost immediately 
 closing the door behind her, and goes slowly to the outside door, 
 which she opens, and stands in the doorway looking out. The 
 sound of ANDREW S and ROBERT S voices comes from the bedroom. 
 A moment later ANDREW re-enters, closing the door softly. He 
 comes forward and sinks down in the rocker on the right of 
 table, leaning his head on his hand. His face is drawn in a 
 shocked expression of great grief. He sighs heavily, staring 
 mournfully in front of him. RUTH turns and stands watching him. 
 Then she shuts the door and returns to her chair by the stove, 
 turning it so she can face him). 
 
 ANDREW, (glancing up quickly in a harsh voice) How long 
 has this been going on ? 
 
 RUTH. You mean how long has he been sick? 
 
 ANDREW, (shortly) Of course! What else? 
 
 RUTH. It was last summer he had a bad spell first, but he s 
 been ailin ever since Mary died eight months ago. 
 
 ANDREW, (harshly) Why didn t you let me know cable 
 me? Do you want him to die, all of you? I m damned if it 
 
110 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 doesn t look that way ! (H is voice breaking) Poor old chap ! 
 To be sick in this out-of-the-way hole without anyone to attend 
 to him but a country quack ! It s a damned shame ! 
 
 RUTH, (dully) I wanted to send you word once, but he 
 only got mad when I told him. He was too proud to ask any 
 thing, he said. 
 
 ANDREW. Proud? To ask me? (He jumps to his feet and 
 paces nervously back and forth) I can t understand the way 
 you ve acted. Didn t you see how sick he was getting? Couldn t 
 you realize why, I nearly dropped in my tracks when I saw 
 him! He looks (He shudders) terrible! (With fierce scorn) 
 I suppose you re so used to the idea of his being delicate that 
 you took his sickness as a matter of course. God, if I d only 
 known ! 
 
 RUTH, (without emotion) A letter takes so long to get 
 where you were and we couldn t afford to telegraph. We 
 owed everyone already, and I couldn t ask Ma. She d been 
 giving me money out of her savings till she hadn t much left. 
 Don t say anything to Rob about it. I never told him. He d 
 only be mad at me if he knew. But I had to, because God 
 knows how we d have got on if I hadn t. 
 
 ANDREW. You mean to say (His eyes seem to take in 
 
 the poverty-stricken appearance of the room for the first time) 
 
 You sent that telegram to me collect. Was it because 
 
 (RUTH nods silently. ANDREW pounds on the table with his 
 fist) Good God! And all this time I ve been why I ve had 
 everything! (He sits down in his chair and pulls it close to 
 RUTH S impulsively) But I can t get it through my head. 
 Why? Why? What has happened? How did it ever come 
 about? Tell me! 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 111 
 
 RUTH, (dully) There s nothing much to tell. Things kept 
 getting worse, that s all and Rob didn t seem to care. He 
 never took any interest since way back when your Ma died. 
 After that he got men to take charge, and they nearly all 
 cheated him he couldn t tell and left one after another. Then 
 after Mary died he didn t pay no heed to anything any more 
 just stayed indoors and took to reading books again. So J 
 had to ask Ma if she wouldn t help us some. 
 
 ANDREW, (surprised and horrified) Why, damn it, this is 
 frightful ! Rob must be mad not to have let me know. Too 
 proud to ask help of me! What s the matter with him in God s 
 name? (A sudder,, horrible suspicion entering his mind) Ruth! 
 Tell me the truth. His mind hasn t gone back on him, has it? 
 
 RUTH, (dully) I don t know. Mary s dying broke him up 
 terrible but he s used to her being gone by this, I s pose. 
 
 ANDREW, (looking at her queerly) Do you mean to say 
 you re used to it? 
 
 RUTH, (in a dead tone) There s a time comes when you 
 don t mind any more anything. 
 
 ANDREW, (looks at her fixedly for a moment with great 
 pity) I m sorry, Ruth if I seemed to blame you. I didn t 
 realize The sight of Rob lying in bed there, so gone to 
 pieces it made me furious at everyone. Forgive me, Ruth. 
 
 RUTH. There s nothing to forgive. It doesn t matter. 
 
 ANDREW, (springing to his feet again and pacing up and 
 down) Thank God I came back before it was too late. This 
 doctor will know exactly what to do. That s the first thing 
 to think of. W T hen Rob s on his feet again we can get the 
 farm working on a sound basis once more. I ll see to that 
 before I leave. 
 
112 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 RUTH. You re going away again? 
 
 ANDREW. I ve got tO. 
 
 RUTH. You wrote Rob you was coming back to stay this 
 time. 
 
 ANDREW. I expected to until I got to New York. Then 
 C learned certain facts that make it necessary. (With a short 
 laugh) To be candid, Ruth, I m not the rich man you ve prob 
 ably been led to believe by my letters not now. I was when 
 I wrote them. I made money hand over fist as long as I 
 stuck to legitimate trading; but I wasn t content with that. 
 I wanted it to come easier, so like all the rest of the idiots, I 
 tried speculation. Oh, I won all right ! Several times I ve 
 been almost a millionaire on paper and then come down to 
 earth again with a bump. Finally the strain was too much. I 
 got disgusted with myself and made up my mind to get out 
 and come home and forget it and really live again. (He gives 
 a harsh laugh) And now comes the funny part. The day 
 before the steamer sailed I saw what I thought was a chance 
 to become a millionaire again. (He snaps his fingers) That 
 easy! I plunged. Then, before things broke, I left I was 
 so confident I couldn t be wrong. But when I landed in New 
 York I wired you I had business to wind up, didn t I? Well, 
 it was the business that wound me up ! (He smiles grimly , pac 
 ing up and down, his hands in his pockets). 
 
 RUTH, (dully) You found you d lost everything? 
 
 ANDREW, (sitting down again) Practically. (He takes a 
 cigar from his pocket, bites the end off, and lights it) Oh, I 
 don t mean I m dead broke. I ve saved ten thousand from the 
 wreckage, maybe twenty. But that s a poor showing for five 
 years hard work. That s why I ll have to go back. (Confi- 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 113 
 
 dently) I can make it up in a year or so down there and I 
 don t need but a shoestring to start with. (A weary expression 
 comes over his face and he sighs heavily) I wish I didn t have 
 to. I m sick of it all. 
 
 RUTH. It s too bad things seem to go wrong so. 
 
 ANDREW, (shaking off his depression briskly) They might 
 be much worse. There s enough left to fix the farm O. K. 
 before I go. I won t leave til Rob s on his feet again. In 
 the meantime I ll make things fly around here. (With satis 
 faction) I need a rest, and the kind of rest I need is hard 
 work in the open just like I used to do in the old days. (Stop 
 ping abruptly and lowering his voice cautiously) Not a word 
 to Rob about my losing money ! Remember that, Ruth ! You 
 can see why. If he s grown so touchy he d never accept a cent 
 if he thought I was hard up; see? 
 
 RUTH. Yes, Andy. (After a pause, during which ANDREW 
 puffs at his cigar abstractedly , his mind evidently busy with 
 plans for the future r the bedroom door is opened and DOCTOR 
 FAWCETT enters, carrying a bag. He closes the door quietly 
 behind him and comes forward, a grave expression on his face. 
 ANDREW springs out of his chair). 
 
 ANDREW. Ah, Doctor ! (He pushes a chair between his own 
 and HUTU S) Won t you have a chair? 
 
 FAWCETT. (glancing at his watch) I must catch the nine 
 o clock back to the city. It s imperative. I have only a mo 
 ment. (Sitting down and clearing his throat in a perfunctory, 
 
 impersonal voice) The case of your brother, Mr. Mayo, is 
 
 (He stops and glances at RUTH and says meaningly to ANDREW) 
 Perhaps it would be better if you and I 
 
 RUTH, (with dogged resentment) I know what you mean, 
 
114 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 Doctor. (Dully) Don t be afraid I can t stand it. I m used 
 to bearing trouble by this; and I can guess what you ve found 
 out. (She hesitates for a moment then continues in a monot 
 onous voice) Rob s going to die. 
 
 ANDREW, (angrily) Ruth ! 
 
 FAWCETT. (raising his hand as if to command silence) I 
 am afraid my diagnosis of your brother s condition forces me 
 to the same conclusion as Mrs. Mayo s. 
 
 ANDREW, (groaning) But, Doctor, surely 
 
 FAWCETT. (calmly) Your brother hasn t long to live 
 perhaps a few days, perhaps only a few hours. It s a marvel 
 that he s alive at this moment. My examination revealed 
 that both of his lungs are terribly affected. 
 
 ANDREW, (brokenly) Good God! (RUTH keeps her eyes 
 fixed on her lap in a trance-like stare). 
 
 FAWCETT. I am sorry I have to tell you this. If there was 
 anything that could be done 
 
 ANDREW. There isn t anything? 
 
 V "V FAWCETT. (shaking his head) It s too late. Six months 
 a S tnere might have 
 
 ANDREW, (in anguish) But if we were to take him to the 
 
 mountains or to Arizona or 
 
 5- FAWCETT. That mighTTiave prolonged his life six months 
 ago. (ANDREW groans) But now (He shrugs his shoul 
 ders significantly). 
 
 ANDREW, (appalled by a sudden thought) Good heavens, 
 you haven t told him this, have you, Doctor? 
 
 FAWCETT. No. I lied to him. I said a change of cli 
 mate (He looks at his watch again nervously) I must 
 
 leave you. (He gets up). 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 115 
 
 ANDREW, (getting to his feet insistently} But there must 
 still be some chance 
 
 FAWCETT. (as if he were reassuring a child) There is al 
 ways that last chance the miracle. (He puts on his hat and 
 coat bowing to RUTH) Good-by, Mrs. Mayo. 
 
 RUTH, (without raising her eyes dully) Good-by. 
 
 ANDREW, (mechanically) I ll walk to the car with you, 
 Doctor. (They go out of the door. RUTH sits motionlessly. 
 The motor is heard starting and the noise gradually recedes into 
 the distance. ANDREW re-enters and sits down in his chair t 
 holding his head in his hands) Ruth! (She lifts her eyes to 
 his) Hadn t we better go in and see him? God! I m afraid 
 to! I know he ll read it in my face. (The bedroom door is 
 noiselessly opened and ROBERT appears in the doorway. His 
 cheeks are flushed with fever, and his eyes appear unusually 
 large and brilliant. ANDREW continues with a groan) It can t 
 be, Ruth. It can t be as hopeless as he said. There s always 
 a fighting chance. We ll take Rob to Arizona. He s got to get 
 well. There must be a chance! 
 
 ROBERT, (in a gentle tone) Why must there, Andy? (RUTH 
 turns and stares at him with terrified eyes). 
 
 ANDREW, (whirling around) Rob ! (Scoldingly) What are 
 you doing out of bed? (He gets up and goes to him) Get 
 right back now and obey the Doc, or you re going to get a 
 licking from me! 
 
 ROBERT, (ignoring these remarks) Help me over to the 
 chair, please, Andy. 
 
 ANDREW. Like hell I will ! You re going right back to bed, 
 that s where you re going, and stay there! (He takes hold of 
 ROBERT S arm). 
 
116 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ROBERT, (mockingly} Stay there til I die, eh, Andy? 
 (Coldly} Don t behave like a child. I m sick of lying down. 
 I ll be more rested sitting up. (As ANDREW hesitates vio 
 lently} I swear I ll get out of bed every time you put me 
 there. You ll have to sit on my chest, and that wouldn t help 
 my health any. Come on, Andy. Don t play the fool. I want 
 to talk to you, and I m going to. (With a grim smile} A 
 dying man has some rights, hasn t he? 
 
 ANDREW, (with a shudder} Don t talk that way, for God s 
 sake ! I ll only let you sit down if you ll promise that. Re 
 member. (He helps ROBERT to the chair between his own and 
 RUTH S) Easy now ! There you are ! Wait, and I ll get a 
 pillow for you. (He goes into the bedroom. ROBERT looks 
 at RUTH who shrinks away from him in terror. ROBERT smiles 
 bitterly. ANDREW comes back with the pillow which he places 
 behind ROBERT S back) How s that? 
 
 ROBERT, (with an affectionate smile) Fine! Thank you! 
 (As ANDREW sits down} Listen, Andy. You ve asked me not 
 to talk and I won t after I ve made my position clear. (Slowly} 
 In the first place I know I m dying. (RUTH bows her head 
 and covers her face with her hands. She remains like this all 
 during the scene between the two brothers}. 
 
 ANDREW. Rob ! That isn t so ! 
 
 ROBERT, (wearily} It is so! Don t lie to me. After 
 Ruth put me to bed before you came, I saw it clearly for the 
 first time. (Bitterly) I d been making plans for our future 
 Ruth s and mine so it came hard at first the realization. 
 Then when the doctor examined me, I knew although he tried 
 to lie about it. And then to make sure I listened at the door 
 to what he told you. So don t mock me with fairy tales about 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 117 
 
 Arizona, or any such rot as that. Because I m dying is no 
 reason you should treat me as an imbecile or a coward. Now 
 that I m sure what s happening I can say Kismet to it with 
 all my heart. It was only the silly uncertainty that hurt. 
 (There is a pause. ANDREW looks around in impotent anguish, 
 not knowing what to say. ROBERT regards him with an af 
 fectionate smile}. 
 
 ANDREW, (-finally blurts out) It isn t foolish. You have 
 got a chance. If you heard all the Doctor said that ought 
 to prove it to you. 
 
 ROBERT. Oh, you mean when he spoke of the miracle? 
 (Dryly) I don t believe in miracles in my case. Besides, I 
 know more than any doctor on earth could know because I feel 
 what s coming. (Dismissing the subject) But we ve agreed 
 not to talk of it. Tell me about yourself, Andy. That s what 
 I m interested in. Your letters were too brief and far apart to 
 be illuminating. 
 
 ANDREW. I meant to write oftener. 
 
 ROBERT, (with a faint trace of irony) I judge from them 
 you ve accomplished all you set out to do five years ago? 
 
 ANDREW. That isn t much to boast of. 
 
 ROBERT, (surprised) Have you really, honestly reached that 
 conclusion? 
 
 ANDREW. Well, it doesn t seem to amount to much now. 
 
 ROBERT. But you re rich, aren t you? 
 
 ANDREW, (with a quick glance at RUTH) Yes, I s pose so. 
 
 ROBERT. I m glad. You can do to the farm all I ve undone. 
 But what did you do down there? Tell me. You went in the 
 grain business with that friend of yours? 
 
 ANDREW. Yes. After two years I had a share in it. I sold 
 
118 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 out last year. (He is answering ROBERT S questions with great 
 reluctance}. 
 
 ROBERT. And then? 
 
 ANDREW. I went in on my own. 
 
 ROBERT. Still in grain? 
 
 ANDREW. Yes. 
 
 ROBERT. What s the matter? You look as if I were accusing 
 you of something. 
 
 ANDREW. I m proud enough of the first four years. It s 
 after that I m not boasting of. I took to speculating. 
 
 ROBERT. In wheat? 
 
 ANDREW. Yes. 
 
 ROBERT. And you made money gambling? 
 
 ANDREW. Yes. 
 
 ROBERT, (thoughtfully) I ve been wondering what the great 
 change was in you. (After a pause) You a farmer to 
 gamble in a wheat pit with scraps of paper. There s a spiritual 
 significance in that picture, Andy. (He smiles bitterly) I m 
 a failure, and Ruth s another but we can both justly lay 
 some of the blame for our stumbling on God. But you re the 
 deepest-dyed failure of the three, Andy. You ve spent eight 
 years running away from yourself. Do you see what I mean? 
 You used to be a creator when you loved the farm. You and 
 
 life were in harmonious partnership. And now (He 
 
 stops as if seeking vainly for words) My brain is muddled. 
 But part of what I mean is that your gambling with the thing 
 
 you used to love to create proves how far astray So you ll 
 
 be punished. You ll have to suffer to win back (His voice 
 
 A grows weaker and he sighs wearily) It s no use. I can t say 
 
 Iit. (He lies back and closes his eyeSj breathing pantingly). 
 bJfrtsL (uv^#*- 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 119 
 
 ANDREW, (slowly) I think I know what you re driving at, 
 Rob and it s true, I guess. (ROBERT smiles gratefully and 
 stretches out his hand, which ANDREW takes in his). 
 
 ROBERT. I want you to promise me to do one thing, Andy, 
 after 
 
 ANDREW. I ll promise anything, as God is my Judge ! 
 
 ROBERT. Remember, Andy, Ruth has suffered double her 
 share. (His voice faltering with weakness) Only through 
 contact with suffering, Andy, will you awaken. Listen. You 
 must marry Ruth afterwards. 
 
 RUTH, (with a cry) Rob ! (ROBERT lies back, his eyes 
 closed, gasping heavily for breath). 
 
 ANDREW, (making signs to her to humor him gently) 
 You re tired out, Rob. You better lie down and rest a while, 
 don t you think? We can talk later on. 
 
 ROBERT, (with a mocking smile) Later on ! You always 
 were an optimist, Andy! (He sighs with exhaustion) Yes, I ll 
 go and rest a while. (As ANDREW comes to help him) It must 
 be near sunrise, isn t it? 
 
 ANDREW. It s after six. 
 
 ROBERT. (As ANDREW helps him into the bedroom) Shut 
 the door, Andy. I want to be alone. (ANDREW reappears and 
 shuts the door softly. He comes and sits down on his chair 
 again, supporting his head on his hands. His face is drawn 
 with the intensity of his dry-eyed anguish). 
 
 RUTH, (glancing at him fearfully) He s out of his mind 
 now, isn t he? 
 
 ANDREW. He may be a little delirious. The fever would 
 do that. {With impotent rage) God, what a shame! And 
 
120 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 there s nothing we can do but sit and wait ! {He springs 
 from his chair and walks to the stove). 
 
 RUTH, (dully) He was talking wild like he used to 
 only this time it sounded unnatural, don t you think? 
 
 ANDREW. I don t know. The things he said to me had truth 
 in them even if he did talk them way up in the air, like he 
 
 always sees things. Still (He glances down at RUTH 
 
 keenly) Why do you suppose he wanted us to promise we d 
 
 (Confusedly) You know what he said. 
 
 RUTH, (dully) His mind was wandering, I s pose. 
 
 ANDREW, (with conviction) No there was something back 
 of it. 
 
 RUTH. He wanted to make sure I d be all right after he d 
 gone, I expect. 
 
 ANDREW. No, it wasn t that. He knows very well I d nat 
 urally look after you without anything like that. 
 
 RUTH. He might be thinking of something happened five 
 years back, the time you came home from the trip. 
 
 ANDREW. What happened? What do you mean? 
 
 RUTH, (dully) We had a fight. 
 
 ANDREW. A fight? What has that to do with me? 
 
 RUTH. It was about you in a way. 
 
 ANDREW, (amazed) About me? 
 
 RUTH. Yes, mostly. You see I d found out I d made a mis 
 take about Rob soon after we were married when it was too 
 late. 
 
 ANDREW. Mistake? (Slowly) You mean you found out 
 you didn t love Rob? 
 
 RUTH. Yes. 
 
 ANDREW. Good God! 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 121 
 
 RUTH. And then I thought that when Mary came it d be 
 different, and I d love him; but it didn t happen that way. 
 And I couldn t bear with his blundering and book-reading 
 and I grew to hate him, almost. 
 
 ANDREW. Ruth ! 
 
 RUTH. I couldn t help it. No woman could. It had to be 
 because I loved someone else, I d found out. (She sighs 
 wearily) It can t do no harm to tell you now when it s all 
 past and gone and dead. You were the one I really loved 
 only I didn t come to the knowledge of it til too late. 
 
 ANDREW, (stunned) Ruth ! Do you know what you re say 
 ing? 
 
 RUTH. It was true then. (With sudden fierceness) How 
 could I help it? No woman could. 
 
 ANDREW. Then you loved me that time I came home? 
 
 RUTH, (doggedly) I d known your real reason for leaving 
 home the first time everybody knew it and for three years 
 I d been thinking 
 
 ANDREW. That I loved you? 
 
 RUTH. Yes. Then that day on the hill you laughed about 
 what a fool you d been for loving me once and I knew it 
 was all over. 
 
 ANDREW. Good God, but I never thought (He stops, 
 
 shuddering at his remembrance) And did Rob 
 
 RUTH. That was what I d started to tell. We d had a 
 fight just before you came and I got crazy mad and I told 
 him all I ve told you. 
 
 ANDREW, (gaping at her speechlessly for a moment) You 
 told Rob you loved me? 
 
 RUTH. Yes. 
 
122 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ANDREW, (shrinking away from her in horror) You you 
 you mad fool, you ! How could you do such a thing ? 
 
 RUTH. I couldn t help it. I d got to the end of bearing 
 things without talking. 
 
 ANDREW. Then Rob must have known every moment I 
 stayed here ! And yet he never said or showed God, how 
 he must have suffered! Didn t you know how much he loved 
 you? 
 
 RUTH, (dully) Yes. I knew he liked me. 
 
 ANDREW. Liked you! What kind of a woman are you? 
 Couldn t you have kept silent? Did you have to torture him? 
 No wonder he s dying! And you ve lived together for five 
 years with this between you? 
 
 RUTH. We ve lived in the same house. 
 
 ANDREW. Does he still think 
 
 RUTH. I don t know. We ve never spoke a word about it 
 since that day. Maybe, from the way he went on, he s poses 
 I care for you yet. 
 
 ANDREW. But you don t. It s outrageous. It s stupid! You 
 don t love me ! 
 
 RUTH, (slowly) I wouldn t know how to feel love, even if 
 I tried, any more. 
 
 ANDREW, (brutally) And I don t love you, that s sure! 
 (He sinks into his chair, his head between his hands) It s 
 damnable such a thing should be between Rob and me. Why, 
 I love Rob bettcr n anybody in the world and always did. 
 There isn t a thing on God s green earth I wouldn t have done 
 to keep trouble away from him. And I have to be the very 
 one it s damnable! How am I going to face him again? 
 What can I say to him now? (He groans with anguished 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 123 
 
 rage. After a pause) He asked me to promise what am I 
 going to do? 
 
 RUTH. You can promise so s it ll ease his mind and not 
 mean anything. 
 
 ANDREW. What? Lie to him now when he s dying? (De 
 terminedly} No! It s you who ll have to do the lying, since 
 it must be done. You ve got a chance now to undo some of 
 alljthe sufferfaf YfflTYfi brought on Rob, fio in to him ! Tell 
 him you never loved me it was all a mistake. Tell him you 
 only said so because you were mad and didn t know what you 
 were saying! Tell him something, anything, that ll bring him 
 peace ! 
 
 RUTH, (dully} He wouldn t believe me. 
 
 ANDREW, (furiously) You ve got to make him believe you, 
 do you hear? You ve got to now hurry you never know 
 when it may be too late. (As she hesitates imploringly) 
 For God s sake, Ruth! Don t you see you owe it to him? 
 You ll never forgive yourself if you don t. 
 
 RUTH, (dully) I ll go. (She gets wearily to her feet and 
 walks slowly toward the bedroom) But it won t do any good. 
 (ANDREW S eyes are fixed on her anxiously. She opens the door 
 and steps inside the room. She remains standing there for a 
 minute. Then she calls in a frightened voice) Rob ! Where 
 are you? (Then she hurries back, trembling with fright) 
 Andy ! Andy ! He s gone ! 
 
 ANDREW, (misunderstanding her his face pale with dread) 
 He s not 
 
 RUTH, (interrupting him hysterically) He s gone ! The 
 bed s empty. The window s wide open. He must have crawled 
 out into the yard ! 
 
124 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ANDREW, (springing to his feet. He rushes into the bed 
 room and returns immediately with an expression of alarmed 
 amazement on his face) Come! He can t have gone far! 
 (Grabbing his hat he takes RUTH S arm and shoves her toward 
 the door) Come on! (Opening the door) Let s hope to 
 
 God (The door closes behind them, cutting off his words 
 
 as 
 
 (The Curtain Falls) 
 
ACT THREE 
 
 SCENE Two 
 
 Same as Act One, Scene One A section of country high 
 way. The sky to the east is already alight with bright 
 color and a thin, quivering line of flame is spreading slowly 
 along the horizon rim of the dark hills. The roadside, how 
 ever, is still steeped in the grayness of the dawn, shadowy and 
 vague. The field in the foreground has a wild uncultivated 
 appearance as if it had been allowed to remain fallow the 
 preceding summer. Parts of the snake-fence in the rear have 
 been broken down. The apple tree is leafless and seems dead. 
 
 ROBERT staggers weakly in from the left. He stumbles into 
 the ditch and lies there for a moment; then crawls with a great 
 effort to the top of the bank where he can see the sun rise, and 
 collapses weakly. RUTH and ANDREW come hurriedly along the 
 road from the left. 
 
 ANDREW, (stopping and looking about him) There he is! 
 I knew it ! I knew we d find him here. 
 
 ROBERT, (trying to raise himself to a sitting position as they 
 hasten to his side with a wan smile) I thought I d given 
 you the slip. 
 
 ANDREW, (with kindly bullying) Well you didn t, you old 
 scoundrel, and we re going to take you right back where you 
 
 belong in bed. (He makes a motion to lift ROBERT). 
 
 125 
 
126 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 ROBERT. Don t, Andy. Don t, I tell you! 
 
 ANDREW. You re in pain? 
 
 ROBERT, (simply) No. I m dying. (He falls back weakly. 
 RUTH sinks down beside him with a sob and pillows his head 
 on her lap. ANDREW stands looking down at him helplessly. 
 ROBERT moves his head restlessly on RUTH S lap) I couldn t 
 stand it back there in the room. It seemed as if all my life 
 I d been cooped in a room. So I thought I d try to end as 
 
 I might have if I d had the courage alone in a ditch by 
 Oi 
 
 the open road watching the sun rise. 
 
 ANDREW. Rob ! Don t talk. You re wasting your strength. 
 Rest a while and then we ll carry you 
 
 ROBERT. Still hoping, Andy? Don t. I know. (There is 
 a pause during which he breathes heavily, straining his eyes 
 toward the horizon) The sun comes so slowly. (With an 
 ironical smile) The doctor told me to go to the far-off places 
 and I d be cured. He was right. That was always the 
 
 cure for me. It s too late for this life but (He has a 
 
 fit of coughing which racks his body). 
 
 ANDREW, (with a hoarse sob) Rob ! (He clenches his fists 
 in an impotent rage against Fate) God ! God ! (RUTH sobs 
 brokenly and wipes ROBERT S lips with her handkerchief). 
 
 ROBERT, (in a voice which is suddenly ringing with the 
 happiness of hope) You mustn t feel sorry for me. Don t 
 you see I m happy at last free free ! freed from the farm 
 free to wander on and on eternally ! (He raises himself 
 on his elbow, his face radiant, and points to the horizon) Look! 
 Isn t it beautiful beyond the hills? I can hear the old voices 
 
 calling me to come (Exultantly) And this time I m go- 
 
 ing! It isn t the end. It s a free beginning the start of my 
 
BEYOND THE HORIZON 127 
 
 voyage ! I ve won to my trip the right of release beyond 
 the horizon ! Oh, you ought to be glad glad for my sake ! 
 (He collapses weakly} Andy! (ANDREW bends down to him) 
 Remember Ruth 
 
 ANDREW. I ll take care of her, I swear to you, Rob ! 
 
 ROBERT. Ruth has suffered remember, Andy only through 
 
 sacrifice the secret beyond there (He suddenly raises 
 
 himself with his last remaining strength and points to the horizon 
 where the edge of the sun s disc is rising from the rim of the 
 hills) The sun ! (H e remains with his eyes fixed on it for a 
 moment. A rattling noise throbs from his throat. He mumbles) 
 Remember! (And falls back and is still. RUTH gives a cry 
 of horror and springs to her feet, shuddering, her hands over 
 her eyes. ANDREW bends on one knee beside the body, placing 
 a hand over ROBERT S heart, then he kisses his brother rev 
 erentially on the forehead and stands up). 
 
 ANDREW, (facing RUTH, the body between them in a dead 
 voice) He s dead. (JVith a sudden burst of fury) God damn 
 you, you never told him ! 
 
 RUTH, (piteously) He was so happy without my lying to 
 him. 
 
 ANDREW, (pointing to the body trembling with the violence 
 of his rage) This is your doing, you damn woman, you coward, 
 you murderessl_ 
 
 RUTH, (sobbing) Don t, Andy ! I couldn t help it and 
 he knew how I d suffered, too. He told you to remember. 
 
 ANDREW, (stares at her for a moment, his rage ebbing away, 
 an expression of deep pity gradually coming over his face. 
 Then he glances down at his brother and speaks brokenly in a 
 compassionate voice) Forgive me. Ruth for his sake and 
 
128 PLAYS OF EUGENE O NEILL 
 
 I ll remember (RUTH lets her hands fall from her face 
 
 and looks at him uncomprehendingly. He lifts his eyes to hers 
 and forces out falteringly) I you we ve both made a mess 
 of things ! We must try to help each other and in time 
 we ll come to know what s right (Desperately) And per 
 haps we (But RUTH, if she is aware of his words, gives 
 
 no sign. She remains silent, gazing at him dully with the sad 
 humility of exhaustion, her mind already sinking back into that 
 spent calm beyond the further troubling of any hope). 
 
 (The Curtain Falls) 
 
The Plays by 
 
 EUGENE O NEILL 
 
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 BEYOND THE HORIZON 75c. 
 
 WHERE THE CROSS Is MADE 35c. 
 
 IN THE ZONE 35c. 
 
 ILE . 35c. 
 
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