Read Long Day's Journey into Night (Yale Nota Bene) for Free Online Page A

you say about Edmund’s sickness, the better for your conscience! You’re more responsible than anyone!
JAMIE
    Stung.
    That’s a lie! I won’t stand for that, Papa!
TYRONE
    It’s the truth! You’ve been the worst influence for him. He grew up admiring you as a hero! A fine example you set him! If you ever gave him advice except in the ways of rottenness, I’ve never heard of it! You made him old before his time, pumping him full of what you consider worldly wisdom, when he was too young to see that your mind was so poisoned by your own failure in life, you wanted to believe every man was a knave with his soul for sale, and every woman who wasn’t a whore was a fool!
JAMIE
    With a defensive air of weary indifference again.
    All right. I did put Edmund wise to things, but not until I saw he’d started to raise hell, and knew he’d laugh at me if I tried the good advice, older brother stuff. All I did was make a pal of him and be absolutely frank so he’d learn from my mistakes that—
    He shrugs his shoulders—cynically.
    Well, that if you can’t be good you can at least be careful.
    His father snorts contemptuously. Suddenly Jamie becomes really moved.
    That’s a rotten accusation, Papa. You know how much the Kid means to me, and how close we’ve always been—not like the usual brothers! I’d do anything for him.
TYRONE
    Impressed — mollifyingly.
    I know you may have thought it was for the best, Jamie. I didn’t say you did it deliberately to harm him.
JAMIE
    Besides it’s damned rot! I’d like to see anyone influence Edmund more than he wants to be. His quietness fools people into thinking they can do what they like with him. But he’s stubborn as hell inside and what he does is what he wants to do, and to hell with anyone else! What had I to do with all the crazy stunts he’s pulled in the last few years—working his way all over the map as a sailor and all that stuff. I thought that was a damned fool idea, and I told him so. You can’t imagine me getting fun out of being on the beach in South America, or living in filthy dives, drinking rotgut, can you? No, thanks! I’ll stick to Broadway, and a room with a bath, and bars that serve bonded Bourbon.
TYRONE
    You and Broadway! It’s made you what you are!
    With a touch of pride.
    Whatever Edmund’s done, he’s had the guts to go off on his own, where he couldn’t come whining to me the minute he was broke.
JAMIE
    Stung into sneering jealousy.
    He’s always come home broke finally, hasn’t he? And what did his going away get him? Look at him now!
    He is suddenly shamefaced.
    Christ! That’s a lousy thing to say. I don’t mean that.
TYRONE
    Decides to ignore this.
    He’s been doing well on the paper. I was hoping he’d found the work he wants to do at last.
JAMIE
    Sneering jealously again.
    A hick town rag! Whatever bull they hand you, they tell me he’s a pretty bum reporter. If he weren’t your son—
    Ashamed again.
    No, that’s not true! They’re glad to have him, but it’s the special stuff that gets him by. Some of the poems and parodies he’s written are damned good.
    Grudgingly again.
    Not that they’d ever get him anywhere on the big time.
    Hastily.
    But he’s certainly made a damned good start.
TYRONE
    Yes. He’s made a start. You used to talk about wanting to become a newspaper man but you were never willing to start at the bottom. You expected—
JAMIE
    Oh, for Christ’s sake, Papa! Can’t you lay off me!
TYRONE
    Stares at him—then looks away—after a pause.
    It’s damnable luck Edmund should be sick right now. It couldn’t have come at a worse time for him.
    He adds, unable to conceal an almost furtive uneasiness.
    Or for your mother. It’s damnable she should have this to upset her, just when she needs peace and freedom from worry. She’s been so well in the two months since she came home.
    His voice grows husky and trembles a little.
    It’s been heaven to me. This home has been a home again. But I needn’t