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!
[_Changing back to despondency_]
But what certainty is there your Carnegie Hall audience would understand
me? It would be the same smart set.
[_He drops dejectedly into a chair and lays down his violin._]

PAPPELMEISTER
_Ach, nein._ Of course, some--ve can't keep peoble out merely because
dey pay for deir seats. _Was?_
[_He laughs._]

DAVID
It was always my dream to play it first to the new immigrants--those who
have known the pain of the old world and the hope of the new.

PAPPELMEISTER
Try it on the dog. _Was?_

DAVID
Yes--on the dog that here will become a man!

PAPPELMEISTER [_Shakes his head_]
I fear neider dogs nor men are a musical breed.

DAVID
The immigrants will not understand my