When most people think of Eugene O’Neill, they think of gloomy women swigging morphine straight from the bottle. And, unless you are in a very specific mood, the plays can make you want to take a pull or two yourself. But a rarely produced O’Neill play, “Marco Millions,” switches gears from his usual portraits of bummed out Americans to a scathing indictment of everybody’s favorite Italian spice trader, Marco Polo.