The Melting-Pot. Israel Zangwill

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the desk hangs a book-rack with brightly bound English books. A grand piano stands at left centre back, holding a pile of music and one huge Hebrew tome. There is a table in the middle of the room covered with a red cloth and a litter of objects, music, and newspapers. The fireplace, in which a fire is burning, occupies the centre of the right wall, and by it stands an armchair on which lies another heavy mouldy Hebrew tome. The mantel holds a clock, two silver candlesticks, etc. A chiffonier stands against the back wall on the right. There are a few cheap chairs. The whole effect is a curious blend of shabbiness, Americanism, Jewishness, and music, all four being combined in the figure of Mendel Quixano, who, in a black skull-cap, a seedy velvet jacket, and red carpet-slippers, is discovered standing at the open street-door. He is an elderly music master with a fine Jewish face, pathetically furrowed by misfortunes, and a short grizzled beard.

      MENDEL

      Good-bye, Johnny! … And don't forget to practise your scales.

      [Shutting door, shivers.]

      Ugh! It'll snow again, I guess.

      [He yawns, heaves a great sigh of relief, walks toward the table, and perceives a music-roll.]

      The chump! He's forgotten his music!

      [He picks it up and runs toward the window on the left, muttering furiously]

      Brainless, earless, thumb-fingered Gentile!

      [Throwing open the window]

      Here, Johnny! You can't practise your scales if you leave 'em here!

      [He throws out the music-roll and shivers again at the cold as he shuts the window.]

      Ugh! And I must go out to that miserable dancing class to scrape the rent together.

      [He goes to the fire and warms his hands.]

      Ach Gott! What a life! What a life!

      [He drops dejectedly into the armchair. Finding himself sitting uncomfortably on the big book, he half rises and pushes it to the side of the seat. After an instant an irate Irish voice is heard from behind the kitchen door.]

      KATHLEEN [Without]

      Divil take the butther! I wouldn't put up with ye, not for a hundred dollars a week.

      MENDEL [Raising himself to listen, heaves great sigh]

      Ach! Mother and Kathleen again!

      KATHLEEN [Still louder]

      Pots and pans and plates and knives! Sure 'tis enough to make a saint chrazy.

      FRAU QUIXANO [Equally loudly from kitchen]

      Wos schreist du? Gott in Himmel, dieses Amerika!

      KATHLEEN [Opening door of kitchen toward the end of Frau Quixano's speech, but turning back, with her hand visible on the door]

      What's that ye're afther jabberin' about America? If ye don't like God's own counthry, sure ye can go back to your own Jerusalem, so ye can.

      MENDEL

      One's very servants are anti-Semites.

      KATHLEEN [Bangs her door as she enters excitedly, carrying a folded white table-cloth. She is a young and pretty Irish maid-of-all-work]

      Bad luck to me, if iver I take sarvice again with haythen Jews.

      [She perceives Mendel huddled up in the armchair, gives a little scream, and drops the cloth.]

      Och, I thought ye was out!

      MENDEL [Rising]

      And so you dared to be rude to my mother.

      KATHLEEN [Angrily, as she picks up the cloth]

      She said I put mate on a butther-plate.

      MENDEL

      Well, you know that's against her religion.

      KATHLEEN

      But I didn't do nothing of the soort. I ounly put butther on a mate-plate.

      MENDEL

      That's just as bad. What the Bible forbids——

      KATHLEEN [Lays the cloth on a chair and vigorously clears off the litter of things on the table.]

      Sure, the Pope himself couldn't remimber it all. Why don't ye have a sinsible religion?

      MENDEL

      You are impertinent. Attend to your work.

      [He seats himself at the piano.]

      KATHLEEN

      And isn't it laying the Sabbath cloth I am?

      [She bangs down articles from the table into their right places.]

      MENDEL

      Don't answer me back.

      [He begins to play softly.]

      KATHLEEN

      Faith, I must answer somebody back—and sorra a word of English she understands. I might as well talk to a tree.

      MENDEL

      You are not paid to talk, but to work.

      [Playing on softly.]

      KATHLEEN

      And who can work wid an ould woman nagglin' and grizzlin' and faultin' me?

      [She removes the red table-cloth.]

      Mate-plates, butther-plates, kosher, trepha, sure I've smashed up folks' crockery and they makin' less fuss ouver it.

      MENDEL [Stops playing.]

      Breaking crockery is one thing, and breaking a religion another. Didn't you tell me when I engaged you that you had lived in other Jewish families?

      KATHLEEN [Angrily]

      And is it a liar ye'd make me out now? I've lived wid clothiers and pawnbrokers and Vaudeville actors, but I niver shtruck a house where mate and butther couldn't be as paceable on the same plate as eggs and bacon—the most was that some wouldn't ate the bacon onless 'twas killed kosher.

      MENDEL [Tickled]

      Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

      KATHLEEN [Furious, pauses with the white table-cloth half on.]

      And СКАЧАТЬ