The Melting-Pot

Enough to keep a vife and eight children!

VERA [Blushing]

But he hasn't a--

PAPPELMEISTER

No, but de Christian had-he get de same-I mean salary, ha! ha! ha! not children. Den he can be independent- vedder de fool-public like his American symphony or not-nicht wahr?

VERA

You are good to us--

[Hastily correcting herself] to Mr. Quixano.

PAPPELMEISTER [Smiling]

And aldough you cannot broduce him, I broduce his symphony. Was?

VERA

Oh, Herr Pappelmeister! You are an angel.

PAPPELMEISTER

Nein, nein, mein liebes Kind! I fear I haf not de correct shape for an angel.

[He laughs heartily. A knock at the door from the hall. ]

VERA [Merrily]

Now I clap my hands.

[She claps.] Come!

[The door opens.] Behold him!

[She makes a conjurer's gesture. DAVID, bare-headed, carrying

his fiddle, opens the door, and stands staring in amazement at

PAPPELMEISTER.]

DAVID

I thought you asked me to meet your father.

PAPPELMEISTER

She is a magician. She has changed us.

[He waves his umbrella.] Hey presto, was? Ha! Ha! Ha!

[He goes to DAVID, and shakes hands.] Und wie geht's? I hear you've left home.

DAVID

Yes, but I've such a bully cabin--

PAPPELMEISTER [Alarmed]

You are sailing avay?

VERA [Laughing]

No, no-that's only his way of describing his two-dollar-a-month garret.

DAVID

Yes-my state-room on the top deck!

VERA [Smiling]

Six foot square.

DAVID

But three other passengers aren't squeezed in, and it never pitches and tosses. It's heavenly.

PAPPELMEISTER [Smiling]

And from heaven you flew down to blay in dat beer-hall. Was?

[DAVID looks surprised.] I heard you.

DAVID

You! What on earth did you go there for?

PAPPELMEISTER

Vat on earth does one go to a beer-hall for? Ha! Ha! Ha! For vawter! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ven I hear you blay, I dink mit myself-if my blans succeed and I get Carnegie Hall for Saturday Symphony Concerts, dat boy shall be one of my first violins. Was?

[He slaps DAVID on the left shoulder.]

DAVID [Overwhelmed, ecstatic, yet wincing a little at the slap on his

wound.] Be one of your first--

[Remembering] Oh, but it is impossible.

VERA [Alarmed]

Mr. Quixano! You must not refuse.

DAVID

But does Herr Pappelmeister know about the wound in my shoulder?

PAPPELMEISTER [Agitated]

You haf been vounded?

DAVID

Only a legacy from Russia-but it twinges in some weathers.

PAPPELMEISTER

And de pain ubsets your blaying?

DAVID

Not so much the pain-it's all the dreadful memories-

VERA [Alarmed]

Don't talk of them.

DAVID

I must explain to Herr Pappelmeister-it wouldn't be fair. Even now

[Shuddering] there comes up before me the bleeding body of my mother, the cold, fiendish face of the Russian officer, supervising the slaughter--

VERA

Hush! Hush!

DAVID [Hysterically]

Oh, that butcher's face-there it is-hovering in the air, that narrow, fanatical forehead, that--

PAPPELMEISTER [Brings down his umbrella with a bang]

Schluss! No man ever dared break down under me. My baton will beat avay all dese faces and fancies. Out with your violin!

[He taps his umbrella imperiously on the table.] Keinen Mut verlieren!

[DAVID takes out his violin from its case and puts it to his

shoulder, PAPPELMEISTER keeping up a hypnotic torrent of

encouraging German cries.] Also! Fertig! Anfangen!

[He raises and waves his umbrella like a baton.] Von, dwo, dree, four--

DAVID [With a great sigh of relief]

Thanks, thanks-they are gone already.

PAPPELMEISTER

Ha! Ha! Ha! You see. And ven ve blay your American symphony--

DAVID [Dazed]

You will play my American symphony?

VERA [Disappointed]

Don't you jump for joy?

DAVID [Still dazed but ecstatic]

Herr Pappelmeister!