Book Read Free

The Melting-Pot

Page 3

by Израэль Зангвилл


  MENDEL

  I should have thought the American was made already-eighty millions of him.

  DAVID

  Eighty millions!

  [He smiles toward VERA in good-humoured derision.] Eighty millions! Over a continent! Why, that cockleshell of a Britain has forty millions! No, uncle, the real American has not yet arrived. He is only in the Crucible, I tell you-he will be the fusion of all races, perhaps the coming superman. Ah, what a glorious Finale for my symphony-if I can only write it.

  VERA

  But you have written some of it already! May I not see it?

  DAVID [Relapsing into boyish shyness]

  No, if you please, don't ask--

  [He moves over to his desk and nervously shuts it down and turns

  the keys of drawers as though protecting his MS.]

  VERA

  Won't you give a bit of it at our Concert?

  DAVID

  Oh, it needs an orchestra.

  VERA

  But you at the violin and I at the piano--

  MENDEL

  You didn't tell me you played, Miss Revendal!

  VERA

  I told you less commonplace things.

  DAVID

  Miss Revendal plays quite like a professional.

  VERA [Smiling]

  I don't feel so complimented as you expect. You see I did have a professional training.

  MENDEL [Smiling]

  And I thought you came to me for lessons!

  [DAVID laughs.]

  VERA [Smiling]

  No, I went to Petersburg--

  DAVID [Dazed]

  To Petersburg--?

  VERA [Smiling]

  Naturally. To the Conservatoire. There wasn't much music to be had at Kishineff, a town where--

  DAVID

  Kishineff!

  [He begins to tremble.]

  VERA [Still smiling]

  My birthplace.

  MENDEL [Coming toward him, protectingly]

  Calm yourself, David.

  DAVID

  Yes, yes-so you are a Russian!

  [He shudders violently, staggers.]

  VERA [Alarmed]

  You are ill!

  DAVID

  It is nothing, I-not much music at Kishineff! No, only the Death-March!... Mother! Father! Ah-cowards, murderers! And you!

  [He shakes his fist at the air.] You, looking on with your cold butcher's face! O God! O God!

  [He bursts into hysterical sobs and runs, shamefacedly, through

  the door to his room.]

  VERA [Wildly]

  What have I said? What have I done?

  MENDEL

  Oh, I was afraid of this, I was afraid of this.

  FRAU QUIXANO [Who has fallen asleep over her book, wakes as if with a

  sense of the horror and gazes dazedly around, adding to the

  thrillingness of the moment] Dovidel! Wu is' Dovidel! Mir dacht sach--

  MENDEL [Pressing her back to her slumbers]

  Du träumst, Mutter! Schlaf!

  [She sinks back to sleep.]

  VERA [In hoarse whisper]

  His father and mother were massacred?

  MENDEL [In same tense tone]

  Before his eyes-father, mother, sisters, down to the youngest babe, whose skull was battered in by a hooligan's heel.

  VERA

  How did he escape?

  MENDEL

  He was shot in the shoulder, and fell unconscious. As he wasn't a girl, the hooligans left him for dead and hurried to fresh sport.

  VERA

  Terrible! Terrible!

  [Almost in tears.]

  MENDEL [Shrugging shoulders, hopelessly]

  It is only Jewish history!... David belongs to the species of pogrom orphan-they arrive in the States by almost every ship.

  VERA

  Poor boy! Poor boy! And he looked so happy!

  [She half sobs.]

  MENDEL

  So he is, most of the time-a sunbeam took human shape when he was born. But naturally that dreadful scene left a scar on his brain, as the bullet left a scar on his shoulder, and he is always liable to see red when Kishineff is mentioned.

  VERA

  I will never mention my miserable birthplace to him again.

  MENDEL

  But you see every few months the newspapers tell us of another pogrom, and then he screams out against what he calls that butcher's face, so that I tremble for his reason. I tremble even when I see him writing that crazy music about America, for it only means he is brooding over the difference between America and Russia.

  VERA

  But perhaps-perhaps-all the terrible memory will pass peacefully away in his music.

  MENDEL

  There will always be the scar on his shoulder to remind him-whenever the wound twinges, it brings up these terrible faces and visions.

  VERA

  Is it on his right shoulder?

  MENDEL

  No-on his left. For a violinist that is even worse.

  VERA

  Ah, of course-the weight and the fingering.

  [Subconsciously placing and fingering an imaginary violin. ]

  MENDEL

  That is why I fear so for his future-he will never be strong enough for the feats of bravura that the public demands.

  VERA

  The wild beasts! I feel more ashamed of my country than ever. But there's his symphony.

  MENDEL

  And who will look at that amateurish stuff? He knows so little of harmony and counterpoint-he breaks all the rules. I've tried to give him a few pointers-but he ought to have gone to Germany.

  VERA

  Perhaps it's not too late.

  MENDEL [Passionately]

  Ah, if you and your friends could help him! See-I'm begging after all. But it's not for myself.

  VERA

  My father loves music. Perhaps he-but no! he lives in Kishineff. But I will think-there are people here-I will write to you.

  MENDEL [Fervently]

  Thank you! Thank you!

  VERA

  Now you must go to him. Good-bye. Tell him I count upon him for the Concert.

  MENDEL

  How good you are!

  [He follows her to the street-door.]

  VERA [At door]

  Say good-bye for me to your mother-she seems asleep.

  MENDEL [Opening outer door]

  I am sorry it is snowing so.

  VERA

  We Russians are used to it.

  [Smiling, at exit] Good-bye-let us hope your David will turn out a Rubinstein.

  MENDEL [Closing the doors softly]

  I never thought a Russian Christian could be so human.

  [He looks at the clock.] Gott in Himmel-my dancing class!

  [He hurries into the overcoat hanging on the hat-rack. Re-enter

  DAVID, having composed himself, but still somewhat dazed.]

  DAVID

  She is gone? Oh, but I have driven her away by my craziness. Is she very angry?

  MENDEL

  Quite the contrary-she expects you at the Concert, and what is more--

  DAVID [Ecstatically]

  And she understood! She understood my Crucible of God! Oh, uncle, you don't know what it means to me to have somebody who understands me. Even you have never understood--

  MENDEL [Wounded]

  Nonsense! How can Miss Revendal understand you better than your own uncle?

  DAVID [Mystically exalted]

  I can't explain-I feel it.

  MENDEL

  Of course she's interested in your music, thank Heaven. But what true understanding can there be between a Russian Jew and a Russian Christian?

  DAVID

  What understanding? Aren't we both Americans?

  MENDEL

  Well, I haven't time to discuss it now.

  [He winds his muffler round his throat.]

  DAVID

  Why, where are you going?

  M
ENDEL [Ironically]

  Where should I be going-in the snow-on the eve of the Sabbath? Suppose we say to synagogue!

  DAVID

  Oh, uncle-how you always seem to hanker after those old things!

  MENDEL [Tartly]

  Nonsense!

  [He takes his umbrella from the stand.] I don't like to see our people going to pieces, that's all.

  DAVID

  Then why did you come to America? Why didn't you work for a Jewish land? You're not even a Zionist.

  MENDEL

  I can't argue now. There's a pack of giggling schoolgirls waiting to waltz.

  DAVID

  The fresh romping young things! Think of their happiness! I should love to play for them.

  MENDEL [Sarcastically]

  I can see you are yourself again.

  [He opens the street-door-turns back.] What about your own lesson? Can't we go together?

  DAVID

  I must first write down what is singing in my soul-oh, uncle, it seems as if I knew suddenly what was wanting in my music!

  MENDEL [Drily]

  Well, don't forget what is wanting in the house! The rent isn't paid yet.

  [Exit through street-door. As he goes out, he touches and kisses

  the Mezuzah on the door-post, with a subconsciously

  antagonistic revival of religious impulse. DAVID opens his desk,

  takes out a pile of musical manuscript, sprawls over his chair

  and, humming to himself, scribbles feverishly with the quill.

  After a few moments FRAU QUIXANO yawns, wakes, and stretches

  herself. Then she looks at the clock.]

  FRAU QUIXANO

  Shabbos!

  [She rises and goes to the table and sees there are no candles,

  walks to the chiffonier and gets them and places them in the

  candlesticks, then lights the candles, muttering a ceremonial

  Hebrew benediction.] Boruch atto haddoshem ellôheinu melech hoôlam assher kiddishonu bemitzvôsov vettzivonu lehadlik neir shel shabbos.

  [She pulls down the blinds of the two windows, then she goes to

  the rapt composer and touches him, remindingly, on the shoulder.

  He does not move, but continues writing.] Dovidel!

  [He looks up dazedly. She points to the candles.] Shabbos!

  [A sweet smile comes over his face, he throws the quill

  resignedly away and submits his head to her hands and her

  muttered Hebrew blessing.] Yesimcho elôhim ke-efrayim vechimnasseh-yevorechecho haddoshem veyishmerecho, yoer hadoshem ponov eilecho vechunecho, yisso hadoshem ponov eilecho veyosem lecho sholôm.

  [Then she goes toward the kitchen. As she turns at the door, he

  is again writing. She shakes her finger at him, repeating] Gut Shabbos!

  DAVID

  Gut Shabbos!

  [Puts down the pen and smiles after her till the door closes,

  then with a deep sigh takes his cape from the peg and his

  violin-case, pauses, still humming, to take up his pen and write

  down a fresh phrase, finally puts on his hat and is just about to

  open the street-door when KATHLEEN enters from her bedroom fully

  dressed to go, and laden with a large brown paper parcel and an

  umbrella. He turns at the sound of her footsteps and remains at

  the door, holding his violin-case during the ensuing dialogue. ]

  DAVID

  You're not going out this bitter weather?

  KATHLEEN [Sharply fending him off with her umbrella]

  And who's to shtay me?

  DAVID

  Oh, but you mustn't-I'll do your errand-what is it?

  KATHLEEN [Indignantly]

  Errand, is it, indeed! I'm not here!

  DAVID

  Not here?

  KATHLEEN

  I'm lavin', they'll come for me thrunk-and ye'll witness I don't take the candleshtick.

  DAVID

  But who's sending you away?

  KATHLEEN

  It's sending meself away I am-yer houly grandmother has me disthroyed intirely.

  DAVID

  Why, what has the poor old la--?

  KATHLEEN

  I don't be saltin' the mate and I do be mixin' the crockery and--!

  DAVID [Gently]

  I know, I know-but, Kathleen, remember she was brought up to these things from childhood. And her father was a Rabbi.

  KATHLEEN

  What's that? A priest?

  DAVID

  A sort of priest. In Russia he was a great man. Her husband, too, was a mighty scholar, and to give him time to study the holy books she had to do chores all day for him and the children.

  KATHLEEN

  Oh, those priests!

  DAVID [Smiling]

  No, he wasn't a priest. But he took sick and died and the children left her-went to America or heaven or other far-off places-and she was left all penniless and alone.

  KATHLEEN

  Poor ould lady.

  DAVID

  Not so old yet, for she was married at fifteen.

  KATHLEEN

  Poor young crathur!

  DAVID

  But she was still the good angel of the congregation-sat up with the sick and watched over the dead.

  KATHLEEN

  Saints alive! And not scared?

  DAVID

  No, nothing scared her-except me. I got a broken-down fiddle and used to play it even on Shabbos-I was very naughty. But she was so lovely to me. I still remember the heavenly taste of a piece of Motso she gave me dipped in raisin wine! Passover cake, you know.

  KATHLEEN [Proudly]

  Oh, I know Motso.

  DAVID [Smacks his lips, repeats]

  Heavenly!

  KATHLEEN

  Sure, I must tashte it.

  DAVID [Shaking his head, mysteriously]

  Only little boys get that tashte.

  KATHLEEN

  That's quare.

  DAVID [Smiling]

  Very quare. And then one day my uncle sent the old lady a ticket to come to America. But it is not so happy for her here because you see my uncle has to be near his theatre and can't live in the Jewish quarter, and so nobody understands her, and she sits all the livelong day alone-alone with her book and her religion and her memories--

  KATHLEEN [Breaking down]

  Oh, Mr. David!

  DAVID

  And now all this long, cold, snowy evening she'll sit by the fire alone, thinking of her dead, and the fire will sink lower and lower, and she won't be able to touch it, because it's the holy Sabbath, and there'll be no kind Kathleen to brighten up the grey ashes, and then at last, sad and shivering, she'll creep up to her room without a candlestick, and there in the dark and the cold--

  KATHLEEN [Hysterically bursting into tears, dropping her parcel, and

  untying her bonnet-strings] Oh, Mr. David, I won't mix the crockery, I won't--

  DAVID [Heartily]

  Of course you won't. Good night.

  [He slips out hurriedly through the street-door as KATHLEEN

  throws off her bonnet, and the curtain falls quickly. As it rises

  again, she is seen strenuously poking the fire, illumined by its

  red glow.]

  Act II

  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 Final
e. 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

 

‹ Prev