_The same scene on an afternoon a month later. DAVID is
discovered at his desk, scribbling music in a fever of
enthusiasm. MENDEL, dressed in his best, is playing softly on the
piano, watching DAVID. After an instant or two of indecision, he
puts down the piano-lid with a bang and rises decisively._
MENDEL
David!
DAVID [_Putting up his left hand_]
Please, please----
[_He writes feverishly._]
MENDEL
But I want to talk to you seriously--at once.
DAVID
I'm just re-writing the Finale. Oh, such a splendid inspiration!
[_He writes on._]
MENDEL [_Shrugs his shoulders and reseats himself at piano. He plays a
bar or two. Looks at watch impatiently. Resolutely_]
David, I've got wonderful news for you. Miss Revendal is bringing
somebody to see you, and we have hopes of getting you sent to Germany to
study composition.
[_DAVID does not reply, but writes rapidly on._]
Why, he hasn't heard a word!
[_He shouts._]
David!
DAVID [_Writing on_]
I can't, uncle. I _must_ put it down while that glorious impression is
fresh.
MENDEL
What impression? You only went to the People's Alliance.
DAVID
Yes, and there I saw the Jewish children--a thousand of 'em--saluting
the Flag.
[_He writes on._]
MENDEL
Well, what of that?
DAVID
What of that?
[_He throws down his quill and jumps up._]
But just fancy it, uncle. The Stars and Stripes unfurled, and a thousand
childish voices, piping and foreign, fresh from the lands of oppression,
hailing its fluttering folds. I cried like a baby.
MENDEL
I'm afraid you _are_ one.
DAVID
Ah, but if you had heard them--"Flag of our Great Republic"--the words
have gone singing at my heart ever since--
[_He turns to the flag over the door._]
"Flag of our Great Republic, guardian of our homes, whose stars and
stripes stand for Bravery, Purity, Truth, and Union, we salute thee. We,
the natives of distant lands, who find
[_Half-sobbing_]
rest under thy folds, do pledge our hearts, our lives, our sacred honour
to love and protect thee, our Country, and the liberty of the American
people for ever."
[_He ends almost hysterically._]
MENDEL [_Soothingly_]
Quite right. But you needn't get so excited over it.
DAVID
Not when one hears the roaring of the fires of God? Not when one sees
the souls melting in the Crucible? Uncle, all those little Jews will
grow up Americans!
MENDEL [_Putting a pacifying hand on his shoulder and forcing him into a
chair_]
Sit down. I want to talk to you about your affairs.
DAVID [_Sitting_]
_My_ affairs! But I've been talking about them all the time!
MENDEL
Nonsense, David.
[_He sits beside him._]
Don't you think it's time you got into a wider world?
DAVID
Eh? This planet's wide enough for me.
MENDEL
Do be serious. You don't want to live all your life in this room.
DAVID [_Looks round_]
What's the matter with this room? It's princely.
MENDEL [_Raising his hands in horror_]
Princely!
DAVID
Imperial. Remember when I first saw it--after pigging a week in the
rocking steerage, swinging in a berth as wide as my fiddle-case, hung
near the cooking-engines; imagine the hot rancid smell of the food, the
oil of the machinery, the odours of all that close-packed, sea-sick----
MENDEL [_Putting his hand over DAVID'S mouth_]
Don't! You make me ill! How could you ever bear it?
DAVID [_Smiling_]
I was quite happy--I only had to fancy I'd been shipwrecked, and that
after clinging to a plank five days without food or water on the great
lonely Atlantic, my frozen, sodden form had been picked up by this great
safe steamer and given this delightful dry berth, regular meals, and the
spectacle of all these friendly faces.... Do you know who was on board
that boat? Quincy Davenport.
MENDEL
The lord of corn and oil?
DAVID [_Smiling_]
Yes, even we wretches in the steerage felt safe to think the lord was up
above, we believed the company would never dare drown _him_. But could
even Quincy Davenport command a cabin like this?
[_Waving his arm round the room._]
Why, uncle, we have a cabin worth a thousand dollars--a thousand dollars
a _week_--and what's more, it doesn't wobble!
[_He plants his feet voluptuously upon the floor._]
MENDEL
Come, come, David, I asked you to be serious. Surely, some day you'd
like your music produced?
DAVID [_Jumps up_]
Wouldn't it be glorious? To hear it all actually coming out of violins
and 'cellos, drums and trumpets.
MENDEL
And you'd like it to go all over the world?
DAVID
All over the world and all down the ages.
MENDEL
But don't you see that unless you go and study seriously in Germany----?
[_Enter KATHLEEN from kitchen, carrying a furnished tea-tray with
ear-shaped cakes, bread and butter, etc., and wearing a grotesque
false nose. MENDEL cries out in amaze._]
Kathleen!
DAVID [_Roaring with boyish laughter_]
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
KATHLEEN [_Standing still with her tray_]
Sure, what's the matter?
DAVID
Look in the glass!
KATHLEEN [_Going to the mantel_]
Houly Moses!
[_She drops the tray, which MENDEL catches, and snatches off the
nose._]
Och, I forgot to take it off--'twas the misthress gave it me--I put it
on to cheer her up.
DAVID
Is she so miserable, then?
KATHLEEN
Terrible low, Mr. David, to-day being _Purim_.
MENDEL
_Purim!_ Is to-day _Purim_?
[_Gives her the tea-tray back. KATHLEEN, to take it, drops her
nose and forgets to pick it up._]
DAVID
But _Purim_ is a merry time, Kathleen, like your Carnival. Haven't you
read the book of Esther--how the Jews of Persia escaped massacre?
KATHLEEN
That's what the misthress is so miserable about. Ye don't _keep_ the
Carnival. There's noses for both of ye in the kitchen--didn't I go with
her to Hester Street to buy 'em?--but ye don't be axin' for 'em. And to
see your noses layin' around so solemn and neglected, faith, it nearly
makes me chry meself.
MENDEL [_Bitterly to himself_]
Who can remember about _Purim_ in America?
DAVID [_Half-smiling_]
Poor granny, tell her to come in and I'll play her _Purim_ jig.
MENDEL [_Hastily_]
No, no, David, not here--the visitors!
DAVID
Visitors? What visitors?
MENDEL [_Impatiently_]
That's just what I've been trying to explain.
DAVID
Well, I can play in the kitchen.
[_He takes his violin. Exit to kitchen. MENDEL sighs and shrugs
his shoulders hopelessly at the boy's perversity, then fingers
the cups and saucers._]
MENDEL [_Anxiously_]
Is that the _best_ tea-set?
KATHLEEN
Can't you see it's the Passover set!
[_Ruefully_]
And shpiled intirely it'll be now for our Passover.... And the misthress
thought the visitors might like to thry some of her _Purim_ cakes.
[_Indicates ear-shaped cakes on tray._]
MENDEL [_Bitterly_]
_Purim_ cakes!
[_He turns his back on her and stares moodily out of the
window._]
KATHLEEN [_Mutters contemptuously_]
Call yerself a Jew and you forgettin' to keep _Purim_!
[_She is going back to the kitchen when a merry Slavic dance
breaks out, softened by the door; her feet unconsciously get more
and more into dance step, and at last she jigs out. As she opens
and passes through the door, the music sounds louder._]
FRAU QUIXANO [_Heard from kitchen_]
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Kathleen!!
[_MENDEL'S feet, too, begin to take the swing of the music, and
his feet dance as he stares out of the window. Suddenly the hoot
of an automobile is heard, followed by the rattling up of the
car._]
MENDEL
Ah, she has brought somebody swell!
[_He throws open the doors and goes out eagerly to meet the
visitors. The dance music goes on softly throughout the scene._]
QUINCY DAVENPORT [_Outside_]
Oh, thank you--I leave the coats in the car.
[_Enter an instant later QUINCY DAVENPORT and VERA REVENDAL,
MENDEL in the rear. VERA is dressed much as before, but with a
motor veil, which she takes off during the scene. DAVENPORT is a
dude, aping the air of a European sporting clubman. Aged about
thirty-five and well set-up, he wears an orchid and an
intermittent eyeglass, and gives the impression of a
coarse-fibred and patronisingly facetious but not bad-hearted
man, spoiled by prosperity._]
MENDEL
Won't you be seated?
VERA
First let me introduce my friend, who is good enough to interest himself
in your nephew--Mr. Quincy Davenport.
MENDEL [_Struck of a heap_]
Mr. Quincy Davenport! How strange!
VERA
What is strange?
MENDEL
David just mentioned Mr. Davenport's name--said they travelled to New
York on the same boat.
QUINCY
Impossible! Always travel on my own yacht. Slow but select. Must have
been another man of the same name--my dad. Ha! Ha! Ha!
MENDEL
Ah, of course. I thought you were too young.
QUINCY
My dad, Miss Revendal, is one of those antiquated Americans who are
always in a hurry!
VERA
He burns coal and you burn time.
QUINCY
Precisely! Ha! Ha! Ha!
MENDEL
Won't you sit down--I'll go and prepare David.
VERA [_Sitting_]
You've not prepared him yet?
MENDEL
I've tried to more than once--but I never really got to----
[_He smiles_]
to Germany.
[_QUINCY sits._]
VERA
Then prepare him for _three_ visitors.
MENDEL
Three?
VERA
You see Mr. Davenport himself is no judge of music.
QUINCY [_Jumps up_]
I beg your pardon.
VERA
In manuscript.
QUINCY
Ah, of course not. Music should be heard, not seen--like that jolly jig.
Is that your David?
MENDEL
Oh, you mustn't judge him by that. He's just fooling.
QUINCY
Oh, he'd better not fool with Poppy. Poppy's awful severe.
MENDEL
Poppy?
QUINCY
Pappelmeister--my private orchestra conductor.
MENDEL
Is it _your_ orchestra Pappelmeister conducts?
QUINCY
Well, I pay the piper--and the drummer too!
[_He chuckles._]
MENDEL [_Sadly_]
_I_ wanted to play in it, but he turned me down.
QUINCY
I told you he was awful severe.
[_To VERA_]
He only allows me comic opera once a week. My wife calls him the
Bismarck of the baton.
MENDEL [_Reverently_]
A great conductor!
QUINCY
Would he have a twenty-thousand-dollar job with me if he wasn't? Not
that he'd get half that in the open market--only I have to stick it on
to keep him for my guests exclusively.
[_Looks at watch._]
But he ought to be here, confound him. A conductor should keep time, eh,
Miss Revendal?
[_He sniggers._]
MENDEL
I'll bring David. Won't you help yourselves to tea?
[_To VERA_]
You see there's lemon for you--as in Russia.
[_Exit to kitchen--a moment afterwards the merry music stops in
the middle of a bar._]
VERA
Thank you.
[_Taking a cup._]
Do _you_ like lemon, Mr. Davenport?
QUINCY [_Flirtatiously_]
That depends. The last I had was in Russia itself--from the fair hands
of your mother, the Baroness.
VERA [_Pained_]
Please don't say my mother, my mother is dead.
QUINCY [_Fatuously misunderstanding_]
Oh, you have no call to be ashamed of your step-mother--she's a stunning
creature; all the points of a tip-top Russian aristocrat, or Quincy
Davenport's no judge of breed! Doesn't speak English like your
father--but then the Baron is a wonder.
VERA [_Takes up teapot_]
Father once hoped to be British Ambassador--that's why _I_ had an
English governess. But you never told me you met him in _Russia_.
QUINCY
Surely! When I gave you all those love messages----
VERA [_Pouring tea quickly_]
You said you met him at Wiesbaden.
QUINCY
Yes, but we grew such pals I motored him and the Baroness back to St.
Petersburg. Jolly country, Russia--they know how to live.
VERA [_Coldly_]
I saw more of those who know how to die.... Milk and sugar?
QUINCY [_Sentimentally_]
Oh, Miss Revendal! Have you forgotten?
VERA [_Politely snubbing_]
How should I remember?
QUINCY
You don't remember our first meeting? At the Settlement Bazaar? When I
paid you a hundred dollars for every piece of sugar you put in?
VERA
Did you? Then I hope you drank syrup.
QUINCY
Ugh! I hate sugar--I sacrificed myself.
VERA
To the Settlement? How heroic of you!
QUINCY
No, not to the Settlement. To you!
VERA
Then I'll only put milk in.
QUINCY
I hate milk. But from you----
VERA
Then we _must_ fall back on the lemon.
QUINCY
I loathe lemon. But from----
VERA
Then you shall have your tea neat.
QUINCY
I detest tea, and here it would be particularly cheap and nasty. But----
VERA
Then you shall have a cake!
[_She offers plate._]
QUINCY [_Taking one_]
Would they be eatable?
[_Tasting it._]
Humph! Not bad.
[_Sentimentally_]
A little cake was all you would eat the only time you came to one of my
private concerts. Don't you remember? We went down to supper together.
VERA [_Taking his tea for herself and putting in lemon_]
I shall always remember the delicious music Herr Pappelmeister gave us.
QUINCY
How unkind of you!
VERA
Unkind?
[_She sips the tea and puts down the cup._]
To be grateful for the music?
QUINCY
You know what I mean--to forget _me_!
[_He tries to take her hand._]
VERA [_Rising_]
Aren't you forgetting yourself?
QUINCY
You mean because I'm married to that patched-and-painted creature? She's
hankering for the stage again, the old witch.
VERA
Hush! Marriages with comic opera stars are not usually domestic idylls.
QUINCY
I fell a victim to my love of music.
VERA [_Murmurs, smiling_]
Music!
QUINCY
And I hadn't yet met the right breed--the true blue blood of Europe.
I'll get a divorce.
[_Approaching her_]
Vera!
VERA [_Retreating_]
You will make me sorry I came to you.
QUINCY
No, don't say that--promised the Baron I'd always do all I could for----
VERA
You promised? You dared discuss my affairs?
QUINCY
It was your father began it. When he found I knew you, he almost wept
with emotion. He asked a hundred questions about your life in America.
VERA
His life and mine are for ever separate. He is a Reactionary, I a
Radical.
QUINCY
But he loves you dreadfully--he can't understand why you should go
slaving away summer and winter in a Settlement--you a member of the
Russian nobility!
VERA [_With faint smile_]
I might say, _noblesse oblige_. But the truth is, I earn my living that
way. It would do _you_ good to slave there too!
QUINCY [_Eagerly_]
Would they chain us together? I'd come to-morrow.
[_He moves nearer her. There is a double knock at the door._]
VERA [_Relieved_]
Here's Pappelmeister!
QUINCY
Bother Poppy--why is he so darned punctual?
[_Enter KATHLEEN from the kitchen._]
VERA [_Smiling_]
Ah, you're still here.
KATHLEEN
And why would I not be here?
[_She goes to open the door._]
PAPPELMEISTER
Mr. Quixano?
KATHLEEN
Yes, come in.
[_Enter HERR PAPPELMEISTER, a burly German figure with a leonine
head, spectacles, and a mane of white hair--a figure that makes
his employer look even coarser. He carries an umbrella, which he
never lets go. He is at first grave and silent, which makes any
burst of emotion the more striking. He and QUINCY DAVENPORT
suggest a picture of "Dignity and Impudence." His English, as
roughly indicated in the text, is extremely Teutonic._]
QUINCY
You're late, Poppy!
[_PAPPELMEISTER silently bows to VERA._]
VERA [_Smilingly goes and offers her hand._]
Proud to meet you, Herr Pappelmeister!
QUINCY
Excuse me----
[_Introducing_]
Miss Revendal!--I forgot you and Poppy hadn't been introduced--curiously
enough it was at Wiesbaden I picked him up too--he was conducting the
opera--your folks were in my box. I don't think I ever met anyone so mad
on music as the Baron. And the Baroness told me he had retired from
active service in the Army because of the torture of listening to the
average military band. Ha! Ha! Ha!
VERA
Yes, my father once hoped _my_ music would comfort him.
[_She smiles sadly._]
Poor father! But a soldier must bear defeat. Herr Pappelmeister, may I
not give you some tea?
[_She sits again at the table._]
QUINCY
Tea! Lager's more in Poppy's line.
[_He chuckles._]
PAPPELMEISTER [_Gravely_]
_Bitte._ Tea.
[_She pours out, he sits._]
Lemon. Four lumps.... _Nun_, five!... Or six!
[_She hands him the cup._]
_Danke._
[_As he receives the cup, he utters an exclamation, for KATHLEEN
after opening the door has lingered on, hunting around
everywhere, and having finally crawled under the table has now
brushed against his leg._]
VERA
What are you looking for?
KATHLEEN [_Her head emerging_]
My nose!
[_They are all startled and amused._]
VERA
Your nose?
KATHLEEN
I forgot me nose!
QUINCY
Well, follow your nose--and you'll find it. Ha! Ha! Ha!
KATHLEEN [_Pouncing on it_]
Here it is!
[_Picks it up near the armchair._]
OMNES
Oh!
KATHLEEN
Sure, it's gotten all dirthy.
[_She takes out a handkerchief and wipes the nose carefully._]
QUINCY
But why do you want a nose like that?
KATHLEEN [_Proudly_]
Bekaz we're Hebrews!
QUINCY
What!
VERA
What _do_ you mean?
KATHLEEN
It's our Carnival to-day! _Purim._
[_She carries her nose carefully and piously toward the
kitchen._]
VERA
Oh! I see.
[_Exit KATHLEEN._]
QUINCY [_In horror_]
Miss Revendal, you don't mean to say you've brought me to a Jew!
VERA
I'm afraid I have. I was thinking only of his genius, not his race. And
you see, so many musicians are Jews.
QUINCY
Not _my_ musicians. No Jew's harp in my orchestra, eh?
[_He sniggers._]
I wouldn't have a Jew if he paid _me_.
VERA
I daresay you have some, all the same.
QUINCY
Impossible. Poppy! Are there any Jews in my orchestra?
PAPPELMEISTER [_Removing the cup from his mouth and speaking with
sepulchral solemnity_]
Do you mean are dere any Christians?
QUINCY [_In horror_]
Gee-rusalem! Perhaps _you're_ a Jew!
PAPPELMEISTER [_Gravely_]
I haf not de honour. But, if you brefer, I will gut out from my
brogrammes all de Chewish composers. _Was?_
QUINCY
Why, of course. Fire 'em out, every mother's son of 'em.
PAPPELMEISTER [_Unsmiling_]
_Also_--no more comic operas!
QUINCY
What!!!
PAPPELMEISTER
Dey write all de comic operas!
QUINCY
Brute!
[_PAPPELMEISTER'S chuckle is heard gurgling in his cup. Re-enter
MENDEL from kitchen._]
MENDEL [_To VERA_]
I'm so sorry--I can't get him to come in--he's terrible shy.
QUINCY
Won't face the music, eh?
[_He sniggers._]
VERA
Did you tell him _I_ was here?
MENDEL
Of course.
VERA [_Disappointed_]
Oh!
MENDEL
But I've persuaded him to let me show his MS.
VERA [_With forced satisfaction_]
Oh, well, that's all we want.
[_MENDEL goes to the desk, opens it, and gets the MS. and offers
it to QUINCY DAVENPORT._]
QUINCY
Not for me--Poppy!
[_MENDEL offers it to PAPPELMEISTER, who takes it solemnly._]
MENDEL [_Anxiously to PAPPELMEISTER_]
Of course you must remember his youth and his lack of musical
education----
PAPPELMEISTER
_Bitte, das Pult!_
[_MENDEL moves DAVID'S music-stand from the corner to the centre
of the room. PAPPELMEISTER puts MS. on it._]
_So!_
[_All eyes centre on him eagerly, MENDEL standing uneasily, the
others sitting. PAPPELMEISTER polishes his glasses with
irritating elaborateness and weary "achs," then reads in absolute
silence. A pause._]
QUINCY [_Bored by the silence_]
But won't you play it to us?
PAPPELMEISTER
Blay it? Am I an orchestra? I blay it in my brain.
[_He goes on reading, his brow gets wrinkled. He ruffles his hair
unconsciously. All watch him anxiously--he turns the page._]
_So!_
VERA [_Anxiously_]
You don't seem to like it!
PAPPELMEISTER
I do not comprehend it.
MENDEL
I knew it was crazy--it is supposed to be about America or a Crucible or
something. And of course there are heaps of mistakes.
VERA
That is why I am suggesting to Mr. Davenport to send him to Germany.
QUINCY
I'll send as many Jews as you like to Germany. Ha! Ha! Ha!
PAPPELMEISTER [_Absorbed, turning pages_]
_Ach!--ach!--So!_
QUINCY
I'd even lend my own yacht to take 'em back. Ha! Ha! Ha!
VERA
Sh! We're disturbing Herr Pappelmeister.
QUINCY
Oh, Poppy's all right.
PAPPELMEISTER [_Sublimely unconscious_]
_Ach so--so--SO! Das ist etwas neues!_
[_His umbrella begins to beat time, moving more and more
vigorously, till at last he is conducting elaborately, stretching
out his left palm for pianissimo passages, and raising it
vigorously for forte, with every now and then an exclamation._]
_Wunderschön!... pianissimo!_--now the flutes! Clarinets! _Ach,
ergötzlich_ ... bassoons and drums!... _Fortissimo!... Kolossal!
Kolossal!_
[_Conducting in a fury of enthusiasm._]
VERA [_Clapping her hands_]
Bravo! Bravo! I'm so excited!
QUINCY [_Yawning_]
Then it isn't bad, Poppy?
PAPPELMEISTER [_Not listening, never ceasing to conduct_]
_Und_ de harp solo ... _ach, reizend!_ ... Second violins----!
QUINCY
But Poppy! We can't be here all day.
PAPPELMEISTER [_Not listening, continuing pantomime action_]
Sh! Sh! _Piano._
QUINCY [_Outraged_]
Sh to _me_!
[_Rises._]
VERA
He doesn't know it's you.
QUINCY
But look here, Poppy----
[_He seizes the wildly-moving umbrella. Blank stare of
PAPPELMEISTER gradually returning to consciousness._]
PAPPELMEISTER
_Was giebt's...?_
QUINCY
We've had enough.
PAPPELMEISTER [_Indignant_]
Enough? Enough? Of such a beaudiful symphony?
QUINCY
It may be beautiful to you, but to us it's damn dull. See here, Poppy,
if you're satisfied that the young fellow has sufficient talent to be
sent to study in Germany----
PAPPELMEISTER
In Germany! Germany has nodings to teach him, he has to teach Germany.
VERA
Bravo!
[_She springs up._]
MENDEL
I always said he was a genius!
QUINCY
Well, at that rate you could put this stuff of his in one of my
programmes. _Sinfonia Americana_, eh?
VERA
Oh, that _is_ good of you.
PAPPELMEISTER
I should be broud to indroduce it to de vorld.
VERA
And will it be played in that wonderful marble music-room overlooking
the Hudson?
QUINCY
Sure. Before five hundred of the smartest folk in America.
MENDEL
Oh, thank you, thank you. That will mean fame!
QUINCY
And dollars. Don't forget the dollars.
MENDEL
I'll run and tell him.
[_He hastens into the kitchen, PAPPELMEISTER is re-absorbed in
the MS., but no longer conducting._]
QUINCY
You see, I'll help even a Jew for your sake.
VERA
Hush!
[_Indicating PAPPELMEISTER._]
QUINCY
Oh, Poppy's in the moon.
VERA
You must help him for his own sake, for art's sake.
QUINCY
And why not for heart's sake--for my sake?
[_He comes nearer._]
VERA [_Crossing to PAPPELMEISTER_]
Herr Pappelmeister! When do you think you can produce it?
PAPPELMEISTER
_Wunderbar!..._
[_Becoming half-conscious of VERA_]
Four lumps....
[_Waking up_]
_Bitte?_
VERA
How soon can you produce it?
PAPPELMEISTER
How soon can he finish it?
VERA
Isn't it finished?
PAPPELMEISTER
I see von Finale scratched out and anoder not quite completed. But
anyhow, ve couldn't broduce it before Saturday fortnight.
QUINCY
Saturday fortnight! Not time to get my crowd.
PAPPELMEISTER
Den ve say Saturday dree veeks. Yes?
QUINCY
Yes. Stop a minute! Did you say Saturday? That's my comic opera night!
You thief!
PAPPELMEISTER
Somedings must be sagrificed.
MENDEL [_Outside_]
But you _must_ come, David.
[_The kitchen door opens, and MENDEL drags in the boyishly
shrinking DAVID. PAPPELMEISTER thumps with his umbrella, VERA
claps her hands, QUINCY DAVENPORT produces his eyeglass and
surveys DAVID curiously._]
VERA
Oh, Mr. Quixano, I am so glad! Mr. Davenport is going to produce your
symphony in his wonderful music-room.
QUINCY
Yes, young man, I'm going to give you the smartest audience in America.
And if Poppy is right, you're just going to rake in the dollars. America
wants a composer.
PAPPELMEISTER [_Raises hands emphatically._]
_Ach Gott, ja!_
VERA [_To DAVID_]
Why don't you speak? You're not angry with me for interfering----?
DAVID
I can never be grateful enough to you----
VERA
Oh, not to me. It is to Mr. Davenport you----
DAVID
And I can never be grateful enough to Herr Pappelmeister. It is an
honour even to meet him.
[_Bows._]
PAPPELMEISTER [_Choking with emotion, goes and pats him on the back._]
_Mein braver Junge!_
VERA [_Anxiously_]
But it is Mr. Davenport----
DAVID
Before I accept Mr. Davenport's kindness, I must know to whom I am
indebted--and if Mr. Davenport is the man who----
QUINCY
Who travelled with you to New York? Ha! Ha! Ha! No, _I'm_ only the
junior.
DAVID
Oh, I know, sir, you don't make the money you spend.
QUINCY
Eh?
VERA [_Anxiously_]
He means he knows you're not in business.
DAVID
Yes, sir; but is it true you are in pleasure?
QUINCY [_Puzzled_]
I beg your pardon?
DAVID
Are all the stories the papers print about you true?
QUINCY
_All_ the stories. That's a tall order. Ha! Ha! Ha!
DAVID
Well, anyhow, is it true that----?
VERA
Mr. Quixano! What _are_ you driving at?
QUINCY
Oh, it's rather fun to hear what the masses read about me. Fire ahead.
Is what true?
DAVID
That you were married in a balloon?
QUINCY
Ho! Ha! Ha! That's true enough. Marriage in high life, they said, didn't
they? Ha! Ha! Ha!
DAVID
And is it true you live in America only two months in the year, and then
only to entertain Europeans who wander to these wild parts?
QUINCY
Lucky for you, young man. You'll have an Italian prince and a British
duke to hear your scribblings.
DAVID
And the palace where they will hear my scribblings--is it true that----?
VERA [_Who has been on pins and needles_]
Mr. Quixano, what possible----?
DAVID [_Entreatingly holds up a hand._]
Miss Revendal!
[_To QUINCY DAVENPORT_]
Is this palace the same whose grounds were turned into Venetian canals
where the guests ate in gondolas--gondolas that were draped with the
most wonderful trailing silks in imitation of the Venetian nobility in
the great water fêtes?
QUINCY [_Turns to VERA_]
Ah, Miss Revendal--what a pity you refused that invitation! It was a
fairy scene of twinkling lights and delicious darkness--each couple had
their own gondola to sup in, and their own side-canal to slip down. Eh?
Ha! Ha! Ha!
DAVID
And the same night, women and children died of hunger in New York!
QUINCY [_Startled, drops eyeglass._]
Eh?
DAVID [_Furiously_]
And this is the sort of people you would invite to hear my
symphony--these gondola-guzzlers!
VERA
Mr. Quixano!
MENDEL
David!
DAVID
These magnificent animals who went into the gondolas two by two, to feed
and flirt!
QUINCY [_Dazed_]
Sir!
DAVID
I should be a new freak for you for a new freak evening--I and my dreams
and my music!
QUINCY
You low-down, ungrateful----
DAVID
Not for you and such as you have I sat here writing and dreaming; not
for you who are killing my America!
QUINCY
_Your_ America, forsooth, you Jew-immigrant!
VERA
Mr. Davenport!
DAVID
Yes--Jew-immigrant! But a Jew who knows that your Pilgrim Fathers came
straight out of his Old Testament, and that our Jew-immigrants are a
greater factor in the glory of this great commonwealth than some of you
sons of the soil. It is you, freak-fashionables, who are undoing the
work of Washington and Lincoln, vulgarising your high heritage, and
turning the last and noblest hope of humanity into a caricature.
QUINCY [_Rocking with laughter_]
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! Ho!
[_To VERA._]
You never told me your Jew-scribbler was a socialist!
DAVID
I am nothing but a simple artist, but I come from Europe, one of her
victims, and I know that she is a failure; that her palaces and peerages
are outworn toys of the human spirit, and that the only hope of mankind
lies in a new world. And here--in the land of to-morrow--you are trying
to bring back Europe----
QUINCY [_Interjecting_]
I wish we could!----
DAVID
Europe with her comic-opera coronets and her worm-eaten stage
decorations, and her pomp and chivalry built on a morass of crime and
misery----
QUINCY [_With sneering laugh_]
Morass!
DAVID [_With prophetic passion_]
But you shall not kill my dream! There shall come a fire round the
Crucible that will melt you and your breed like wax in a blowpipe----
QUINCY [_Furiously, with clenched fist_]
You----
DAVID
America _shall_ make good...!
PAPPELMEISTER [_Who has sat down and remained imperturbably seated
throughout all this scene, springs up and waves his umbrella
hysterically_]
_Hoch Quixano! Hoch! Hoch! Es lebe Quixano! Hoch!_
QUINCY
Poppy! You're dismissed!
PAPPELMEISTER [_Goes to DAVID with outstretched hand_]
_Danke._
[_They grip hands. PAPPELMEISTER turns to QUINCY DAVENPORT._]
Comic Opera! Ouf!
QUINCY [_Goes to street-door, at white heat._]
Are you coming, Miss Revendal?
[_He opens the door._]
VERA [_To QUINCY, but not moving_]
Pray, pray, accept my apologies--believe me, if I had known----
QUINCY [_Furiously_]
Then stop with your Jew!
[_Exit._]
MENDEL [_Frantically_]
But, Mr. Davenport--don't go! He is only a boy.
[_Exit after QUINCY DAVENPORT._]
You must consider----
DAVID
Oh, Herr Pappelmeister, you have lost your place!
PAPPELMEISTER
And saved my soul. Dollars are de devil. Now I must to an appointment.
_Auf baldiges Wiedersehen._
[_He shakes DAVID'S hand._]
Fräulein Revendal!
[_He takes her hand and kisses it. Exit. DAVID and VERA stand
gazing at each other._]
VERA
What have you done? What have you done?
DAVID
What else could I do?
VERA
I hate the smart set as much as you--but as your ladder and your
trumpet----
DAVID
I would not stand indebted to them. I know you meant it for my good,
but what would these Europe-apers have understood of _my_ America--the
America of my music? They look back on Europe as a pleasure ground, a
palace of art--but I know
[_Getting hysterical_]
it is sodden with blood, red with bestial massacres----
VERA [_Alarmed, anxious_]
Let us talk no more about it.
[_She holds out her hand._]
Good-bye.
DAVID [_Frozen, taking it, holding it_]
Ah, you are offended by my ingratitude--I shall never see you again.
VERA
No, I am not offended. But I have failed to help you. We have nothing
else to meet for.
[_She disengages her hand._]
DAVID
Why will you punish me so? I have only hurt myself.
VERA
It is not a _punishment_.
DAVID
What else? When you are with me, all the air seems to tremble with fairy
music played by some unseen fairy orchestra.
VERA [_Tremulous_]
And yet you wouldn't come in just now when I----
DAVID
I was too frightened of the others....
VERA [_Smiling_]
Frightened indeed!
DAVID
Yes, I know I became overbold--but to take all that magic sweetness out
of my life for ever--you don't call that a punishment?
VERA [_Blushing_]
How could I wish to punish you? I was proud of you!
[_Drops her eyes, murmurs_]
Besides it would be punishing _myself_.
DAVID [_In passionate amaze_]
Miss Revendal!... But no, it cannot be. It is too impossible.
VERA [_Frightened_]
Yes, too impossible. Good-bye.
[_She turns._]
DAVID
But not for always?
[_VERA hangs her head. He comes nearer. Passionately_]
Promise me that you--that I----
[_He takes her hand again._]
VERA [_Melting at his touch, breathes_]
Yes, yes, David.
DAVID
Miss Revendal!
[_She falls into his arms._]
VERA
My dear! my dear!
DAVID
It is a dream. You cannot care for me--you so far above me.
VERA
Above you, you simple boy? Your genius lifts you to the stars.
DAVID
No, no; it is you who lift me there----
VERA [_Smoothing his hair_]
Oh, David. And to think that I was brought up to despise your race.
DAVID [_Sadly_]
Yes, all Russians are.
VERA
But we of the nobility in particular.
DAVID [_Amazed, half-releasing her_]
You are noble?
VERA
My father is Baron Revendal, but I have long since carved out a life of
my own.
DAVID
Then he will not separate us?
VERA
No.
[_Re-embracing him._]
Nothing can separate us.
[_A knock at the street-door. They separate. The automobile is
heard clattering off._]
DAVID
It is my uncle coming back.
VERA [_In low, tense tones_]
Then I shall slip out. I could not bear a third. I will write.
[_She goes to the door._]
DAVID
Yes, yes ... Vera.
[_He follows her to the door. He opens it and she slips out._]
MENDEL [_Half-seen at the door, expostulating_]
You, too, Miss Revendal----?
[_Re-enters._]
Oh, David, you have driven away all your friends.
DAVID [_Going to window and looking after VERA_]
Not all, uncle. Not all.
[_He throws his arms boyishly round his uncle._]
I am so happy.
MENDEL
Happy?
DAVID
She loves me--Vera loves me.
MENDEL
Vera?
DAVID
Miss Revendal.
MENDEL
Have you lost your wits?
[_He throws DAVID off._]
DAVID
I don't wonder you're amazed. Maybe you think _I_ wasn't. It is as if an
angel should stoop down----
MENDEL [_Hoarsely_]
This is true? This is not some stupid _Purim_ joke?
DAVID
True and sacred as the sunrise.
MENDEL
But you are a Jew!
DAVID
Yes, and just think! She was bred up to despise Jews--her father was a
Russian baron----
MENDEL
If she was the daughter of fifty barons, you cannot marry her.
DAVID [_In pained amaze_]
Uncle!
[_Slowly_]
Then your hankering after the synagogue was serious after all.
MENDEL
It is not so much the synagogue--it is the call of our blood through
immemorial generations.
DAVID
_You_ say that! You who have come to the heart of the Crucible, where
the roaring fires of God are fusing our race with all the others.
MENDEL [_Passionately_]
Not _our_ race, not your race and mine.
DAVID
What immunity has our race?
[_Meditatively_]
The pride and the prejudice, the dreams and the sacrifices, the
traditions and the superstitions, the fasts and the feasts, things noble
and things sordid--they must all into the Crucible.
MENDEL [_With prophetic fury_]
The Jew has been tried in a thousand fires and only tempered and
annealed.
DAVID
Fires of hate, not fires of love. That is what melts.
MENDEL [_Sneeringly_]
So I see.
DAVID
Your sneer is false. The love that melted me was not Vera's--it was the
love _America_ showed me--the day she gathered me to her breast.
MENDEL [_Speaking passionately and rapidly_]
Many countries have gathered us. Holland took us when we were driven
from Spain--but we did not become Dutchmen. Turkey took us when Germany
oppressed us, but we have not become Turks.
DAVID
These countries were not in the making. They were old civilisations
stamped with the seal of creed. In such countries the Jew may be right
to stand out. But here in this new secular Republic we must look
forward----
MENDEL [_Passionately interrupting_]
We must look backwards, too.
DAVID [_Hysterically_]
To what? To Kishineff?
[_As if seeing his vision_]
To that butcher's face directing the slaughter? To those----?
MENDEL [_Alarmed_]
Hush! Calm yourself!
DAVID [_Struggling with himself_]
Yes, I will calm myself--but how else shall I calm myself save by
forgetting all that nightmare of religions and races, save by holding
out my hands with prayer and music toward the Republic of Man and the
Kingdom of God! The Past I cannot mend--its evil outlines are stamped in
immortal rigidity. Take away the hope that I can mend the Future, and
you make me mad.
MENDEL
You are mad already--your dreams are mad--the Jew is hated here as
everywhere--you are false to your race.
DAVID
I keep faith with America. I have faith America will keep faith with us.
[_He raises his hands in religious rapture toward the flag over
the door._]
Flag of our great Republic, guardian of our homes, whose stars and----
MENDEL
Spare me that rigmarole. Go out and marry your Gentile and be happy.
DAVID
You turn me out?
MENDEL
Would you stay and break my mother's heart? You know she would mourn for
you with the rending of garments and the seven days' sitting on the
floor. Go! You have cast off the God of our fathers!
DAVID [_Thundrously_]
And the God of our children--does _He_ demand no service?
[_Quieter, coming toward his uncle and touching him
affectionately on the shoulder._]
You are right--I do need a wider world.
[_Expands his lungs._]
I must go away.
MENDEL
Go, then--I'll hide the truth--she must never suspect--lest she mourn
you as dead.
FRAU QUIXANO [_Outside, in the kitchen_]
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
[_Both men turn toward the kitchen and listen._]
KATHLEEN
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
FRAU QUIXANO AND KATHLEEN
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
MENDEL [_Bitterly_]
A merry _Purim_!
[_The kitchen door opens and remains ajar. FRAU QUIXANO rushes
in, carrying DAVID'S violin and bow. KATHLEEN looks in,
grinning._]
FRAU QUIXANO [_Hilariously_]
_Nu spiel noch! spiel!_
[_She holds the violin and bow appealingly toward DAVID._]
MENDEL [_Putting out a protesting hand_]
No, no, David--I couldn't bear it.
DAVID
But I must! You said she mustn't suspect.
[_He looks lovingly at her as he loudly utters these words, which
are unintelligible to her._]
And it may be the last time I shall ever play for her.
[_Changing to a mock merry smile as he takes the violin and bow
from her_]
_Gewiss_, Granny!
[_He starts the same old Slavic dance._]
FRAU QUIXANO [_Childishly pleased_]
He! He! He!
[_She claps on a false grotesque nose from her pocket._]
DAVID [_Torn between laughter and tears_]
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
MENDEL [_Shocked_]
_Mutter!_
FRAU QUIXANO
_Un' du auch_!
[_She claps another false nose on MENDEL, laughing in childish
glee at the effect. Then she starts dancing to the music, and
KATHLEEN slips in and joyously dances beside her._]
DAVID [_Joining tearfully in the laughter_]
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
[_The curtain falls quickly. It rises again upon the picture of
FRAU QUIXANO fallen back into a chair, exhausted with laughter,
fanning herself with her apron, while KATHLEEN has dropped
breathless across the arm of the armchair; DAVID is still
playing on, and MENDEL, his false nose torn off, stands by,
glowering. The curtain falls again and rises upon a final tableau
of DAVID in his cloak and hat, stealing out of the door with his
violin, casting a sad farewell glance at the old woman and at the
home which has sheltered him._]