Eugene O'Neill

“ 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. It's ridiculous! Don't you see I'm happy at last—because I'm making a start to the far-off places—free—free!—freed from the farm—free to wander on and on—eternally! Even the hills are powerless to shut me in now. [He raises himself on his elbow, his face radiant, and points to the horizon.] Look! Isn't it beautiful beyond the hills? ”

“ 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. I know he was right—and I'll remember what he said. [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 such a mess of things! We must try to help each other—and—in time—we'll come to know what's right to do—— [Desperately.] ”

“ 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, however, is still steeped in the greyness 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 ”