by Eugene O’Neill
MARY TYRONE, sixties, is the wife of the famous but miserly actor JAMES TYRONE. The birth of her second son, EUGENE, led to her becoming addicted to painkillers. Now she speaks to the family housekeeper, CATHLEEN, smiling shyly like an innocent convent girl.
Scene
The Tyrone family home in seaside Connecticut, near New London.
Time
Early evening, August 1912.
MARY
If you think Mr. Tyrone is handsome now, Cathleen, you should have seen him when I first met him. He had the reputation of being one of the best-looking men in the country. The girls in the convent who had seen him act, or seen his photographs, use to rave about him. He was a great matinee idol then, you know. You can imagine how excited I was when my father wrote me he and James Tyrone had become friends, and that I was to meet him when I came home for Easter vacation. I showed the letter to all the girls, and how envious they were! My father took me to see him act first. It was a play about the French Revolution and the leading part was a nobleman. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I wept when he was thrown in prison—and then was so mad at myself because I was afraid my eyes and nose would be red. My father had said we’d go backstage to his dressing room right after the play, and so we did. I was so bashful all I could do was stammer and blush like a little fool. But he didn’t seem to think I was a fool. I know he liked me the first moment we were introduced. I guess my eyes and nose couldn’t have been red, after all. I was really very pretty then, Cathleen. And he was handsomer than my wildest dream, in his make-up and his nobleman’s costume that was so becoming to him. He was different from all ordinary men, like someone from another world. At the same time he was simple, and kind, and unassuming, not a bit stuck-up or vain. I fell in love right then. So did he, he told me afterwards. I forgot all about becoming a nun or a concert pianist. All I wanted was to be his wife. Thirty-six years ago, but I can see it as clearly as if it were tonight! We’ve loved each other ever since. And in all those thirty-six years, there has never been a breath of scandal about him. I mean, with any other woman. Never since he met me. That has made me very happy, Cathleen. It has made me forgive so many other things.