Part 1
# The Melting-Pot ### By Zangwill, Israel
---
Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
WORKS OF ISRAEL ZANGWILL
THE MELTING-POT
THE AMERICAN JEWISH BOOK COMPANY NEW YORK 1921
THE MELTING-POT COPYRIGHT, 1909, 1914, BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Printed by THE LORD BALTIMORE PRESS Baltimore, Md.
TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT
IN RESPECTFUL RECOGNITION OF HIS STRENUOUS STRUGGLE AGAINST THE FORCES THAT THREATEN TO SHIPWRECK THE GREAT REPUBLIC WHICH CARRIES MANKIND AND ITS FORTUNES, THIS PLAY IS, BY HIS KIND PERMISSION, CORDIALLY DEDICATED
_The rights of performing or publishing this play in any country or language are strictly reserved by the author._
THE CAST
[As first produced at the Columbia Theatre, Washington, on the fifth of October 1908]
David Quixano WALKER WHITESIDE Mendel Quixano HENRY BERGMAN Baron Revendal JOHN BLAIR Quincy Davenport, Jr. GRANT STEWART Herr Pappelmeister HENRY VOGEL Vera Revendal CHRYSTAL HERNE Baroness Revendal LEONORA VON OTTINGER Frau Quixano LOUISE MULDENER Kathleen O'Reilly MOLLIE REVEL Settlement Servant ANNIE HARRIS
Produced by HUGH FORD
[As first produced by the Play Actors at the Court Theatre, London on the twenty-fifth of January 1914]
David Quixano HAROLD CHAPIN Mendel Quixano HUGH TABBERER Baron Revendal H. LAWRENCE LEYTON Quincy Davenport, Jr. P. PERCEVAL CLARK Herr Pappelmeister CLIFTON ALDERSON Vera Revendal PHYLLIS RELPH Baroness Revendal GILLIAN SCAIFE Frau Quixano INEZ BENSUSAN Kathleen O'Reilly E. NOLAN O'CONNOR Settlement Servant RUTH PARROTT
Produced by NORMAN PAGE
## Act I
_The scene is laid in the living-room of the small home of the QUIXANOS in the Richmond or non-Jewish borough of New York, about five o'clock of a February afternoon. At centre back is a double street-door giving on a columned veranda in the Colonial style. Nailed on the right-hand door-post gleams a_ Mezuzah, _a tiny metal case, containing a Biblical passage. On the right of the door is a small hat-stand holding MENDEL'S overcoat, umbrella, etc. There are two windows, one on either side of the door, and three exits, one down-stage on the left leading to the stairs and family bedrooms, and two on the right, the upper leading to KATHLEEN'S bedroom and the lower to the kitchen. Over the street door is pinned the Stars-and-Stripes. On the left wall, in the upper corner of which is a music-stand, are bookshelves of large mouldering Hebrew books, and over them is hung a_ Mizrach, _or Hebrew picture, to show it is the East Wall. Other pictures round the room include Wagner, Columbus, Lincoln, and "Jews at the Wailing place." Down-stage, about a yard from the left wall, stands DAVID'S roll-desk, open and displaying a medley of music, a quill pen, etc. On the wall behind 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 who's ye laughin' at? I give ye a week's notice. I won't be the joke of Jews, no, begorra, that I won't. [_She pulls the cloth on viciously._]
MENDEL [_Sobered, rising from the piano_] Don't talk nonsense, Kathleen. Nobody is making a joke of you. Have a little patience--you'll soon learn our ways.
KATHLEEN [_More mildly_] Whose ways, yours or the ould lady's or Mr. David's? To-night being yer Sabbath, _you'll_ be blowing out yer bedroom candle, though ye won't light it; Mr. David'll light his and blow it out too; and the misthress won't even touch the candleshtick. There's three religions in this house, not wan.
MENDEL [_Coughs uneasily._] Hem! Well, you learn the mistress's ways--that will be enough.
KATHLEEN [_Going to mantelpiece_] But what way can I understand her jabberin' and jibberin'?--I'm not a monkey! [_She takes up a silver candlestick._] Why doesn't she talk English like a Christian?
MENDEL [_Irritated_] If you are going on like that, perhaps you had better _not_ remain here.
KATHLEEN [_Blazing up, forgetting to take the second candlestick_] And who's axin' ye to remain here? Faith, I'll quit off this blissid minit!
MENDEL [_Taken aback_] No, you can't do that.
KATHLEEN And why can't I? Ye can keep yer dirthy wages. [_She dumps down the candlestick violently on the table, and exit hysterically into her bedroom._]
MENDEL [_Sighing heavily_] She might have put on the other candlestick. [_He goes to mantel and takes it. A rat-tat-tat at street-door._] Who can that be? [_Running to KATHLEEN'S door, holding candlestick forgetfully low._] Kathleen! There's a visitor!
KATHLEEN [_Angrily from within_] I'm not here!
MENDEL So long as you're in this house, you must do your work. [_KATHLEEN'S head emerges sulkily._]
KATHLEEN I tould ye I was lavin' at wanst. Let you open the door yerself.
MENDEL I'm not dressed to receive visitors--it may be a new pupil. [_He goes toward staircase, automatically carrying off the candlestick which KATHLEEN has not caught sight of. Exit on the left._]
KATHLEEN [_Moving toward the street-door_] The divil fly away wid me if ivir from this 'our I set foot again among haythen furriners---- [_She throws open the door angrily and then the outer door. VERA REVENDAL, a beautiful girl in furs and muff, with a touch of the exotic in her appearance, steps into the little vestibule._]
VERA Is Mr. Quixano at home?
KATHLEEN [_Sulkily_] Which Mr. Quixano?
VERA [_Surprised_] Are there two Mr. Quixanos?
KATHLEEN [_Tartly_] Didn't I say there was?
VERA Then I want the one who plays.
KATHLEEN There isn't a one who plays.
VERA Oh, surely!
KATHLEEN Ye're wrong entirely. They both plays.
VERA [_Smiling_] Oh, dear! And I suppose they both play the violin.
KATHLEEN Ye're wrong again. One plays the piano--ounly the young ginthleman plays the fiddle--Mr. David!
VERA [_Eagerly_] Ah, Mr. David--that's the one I want to see.
KATHLEEN He's out. [_She abruptly shuts the door._]
VERA [_Stopping its closing_] Don't shut the door!
KATHLEEN [_Snappily_] More chanst of seeing him out there than in here!
VERA But I want to leave a message.
KATHLEEN Then why don't ye come inside? It's freezin' me to the bone. [_She sneezes._] Atchoo!
VERA I'm sorry. [_She comes in and closes the door_] Will you please say Miss Revendal called from the Settlement, and we are anxiously awaiting his answer to the letter asking him to play for us on----
KATHLEEN What way will I be tellin' him all that? I'm not here.
VERA Eh?
KATHLEEN I'm lavin'--just as soon as I've me thrunk packed.
VERA Then I must _write_ the message--can I write at this desk?
KATHLEEN If the ould woman don't come in and shpy you.
VERA What old woman?
KATHLEEN Ould Mr. Quixano's mother--she wears a black wig, she's that houly.
VERA [_Bewildered_] What?... But why should she mind my writing?
KATHLEEN Look at the clock. [_VERA looks at the clock, more puzzled than ever._] If ye're not quick, it'll be _Shabbos_.
VERA Be what?
KATHLEEN [_Holds up hands of horror_] Ye don't know what _Shabbos_ is! A Jewess not know her own Sunday!
VERA [_Outraged_] I, a Jewess! How dare you?
KATHLEEN [_Flustered_] Axin' your pardon, miss, but ye looked a bit furrin and I----
VERA [_Frozen_] I am a Russian. [_Slowly and dazedly_] Do I understand that Mr. Quixano is a Jew?
KATHLEEN Two Jews, miss. Both of 'em.
VERA Oh, but it is impossible. [_Dazedly to herself_] He had such charming manners. [_Aloud again_] You seem to think everybody Jewish. Are you sure Mr. Quixano is not Spanish?--the name sounds Spanish.
KATHLEEN Shpanish! [_She picks up the old Hebrew book on the armchair._] Look at the ould lady's book. Is that Shpanish? [_She points to the Mizrach._] And that houly picture the ould lady says her pater-noster to! Is that Shpanish? And that houly table-cloth with the houly silver candle---- [_Cry of sudden astonishment_] Why, I've ounly put---- [_She looks toward mantel and utters a great cry of alarm as she drops the Hebrew book on the floor._] Why, where's the other candleshtick! Mother in hivin, they'll say I shtole the candleshtick! [_Perceiving that VERA is dazedly moving toward door_] Beggin' your pardon, miss---- [_She is about to move a chair toward the desk._]
VERA Thank you, I've changed my mind.
KATHLEEN That's more than I'll do.
VERA [_Hand on door_] Don't say I called at all.
KATHLEEN Plaze yerself. What name did ye say? [_MENDEL enters hastily from his bedroom, completely transmogrified, minus the skull-cap, with a Prince Albert coat, and boots instead of slippers, so that his appearance is gentlemanly. KATHLEEN begins to search quietly and unostentatiously in the table-drawers, the chiffonier, etc., etc., for the candlestick._
MENDEL I am sorry if I have kept you waiting---- [_He rubs his hands importantly._] You see I have so many pupils already. Won't you sit down? [_He indicates a chair._]
VERA [_Flushing, embarrassed, releasing her hold of the door handle_] Thank you--I--I--I didn't come about pianoforte lessons.
MENDEL [_Sighing in disappointment_] _Ach!_
VERA In fact I--er--it wasn't you I wanted at all--I was just going.
MENDEL [_Politely_] Perhaps I can direct you to the house you are looking for.
VERA Thank you, I won't trouble you. [_She turns toward the door again._]
MENDEL Allow me! [_He opens the door for her._]
VERA [_Hesitating, struck by his manners, struggling with her anti-Jewish prejudice_] It--it--was your son I wanted.
MENDEL [_His face lighting up_] You mean my nephew, David. Yes, _he_ gives violin lessons. [_He closes the door._]
VERA Oh, is he your nephew?
MENDEL I am sorry he is out--he, too, has so many pupils, though at the moment he is only at the Crippled Children's Home--playing to them.
VERA How lovely of him! [_Touched and deciding to conquer her prejudice_] But that's just what _I_ came about--I mean we'd like him to play again at our Settlement. Please ask him why he hasn't answered Miss Andrews's letter.
MENDEL [_Astonished_] He hasn't answered your letter?
VERA Oh, I'm not Miss Andrews; I'm only her assistant.
MENDEL I see--Kathleen, whatever are you doing under the table? [_KATHLEEN, in her hunting around for the candlestick, is now stooping and lifting up the table-cloth._]
KATHLEEN Sure the fiend's after witching away the candleshtick.
MENDEL [_Embarrassed_] The candlestick? Oh--I--I think you'll find it in my bedroom.
KATHLEEN Wisha, now! [_She goes into his bedroom._]
MENDEL [_Turning apologetically to VERA_] I beg your pardon, Miss Andrews, I mean Miss--er----
VERA Revendal.
MENDEL [_Slightly more interested_] Revendal? Then you must be the Miss Revendal David told me about!
VERA [_Blushing_] Why, he has only seen me once--the time he played at our Roof-Garden Concert.
MENDEL Yes, but he was so impressed by the way you handled those new immigrants--the Spirit of the Settlement, he called you.
VERA [_Modestly_] Ah, no--Miss Andrews is that. And you will tell him to answer her letter at once, won't you, because there's only a week now to our Concert. [_A gust of wind shakes the windows. She smiles._] Naturally it will _not_ be on the Roof Garden.
MENDEL [_Half to himself_] Fancy David not saying a word about it to me! Are you sure the letter was mailed?
VERA I mailed it myself--a week ago. And even in New York---- [_She smiles. Re-enter KATHLEEN with the recovered candlestick._]
KATHLEEN Bedad, ye're as great a shleep-walker as Mr. David! [_She places the candlestick on the table and moves toward her bedroom._]
MENDEL Kathleen!
KATHLEEN [_Pursuing her walk without turning_] I'm not here!
MENDEL Did you take in a letter for Mr. David about a week ago? [_Smiling at MISS REVENDAL_] He doesn't get many, you see.
KATHLEEN [_Turning_] A letter? Sure, I took in ounly a postcard from Miss Johnson, an' that ounly sayin'----
VERA And you don't remember a letter--a large letter--last Saturday--with the seal of our Settlement?
KATHLEEN Last Saturday wid a seal, is it? Sure, how could I forgit it?
MENDEL Then you _did_ take it in?
KATHLEEN Ye're wrong entirely. 'Twas the misthress took it in.
MENDEL [_To VERA_] I am sorry the boy has been so rude.
KATHLEEN But the misthress didn't give it him at wanst--she hid it away bekaz it was _Shabbos_.
MENDEL Oh, dear--and she has forgotten to give it to him. Excuse me. [_He makes a hurried exit to the kitchen._]
KATHLEEN And excuse _me_--I've me thrunk to pack. [_She goes toward her bedroom, pauses at the door._] And ye'll witness I don't pack the candleshtick. [_Emphatic exit._]
VERA [_Still dazed_] A Jew! That wonderful boy a Jew!... But then so was David the shepherd youth with his harp and his psalms, the sweet singer in Israel. [_She surveys the room and its contents with interest. The windows rattle once or twice in the rising wind. The light gets gradually less. She picks up the huge Hebrew tome on the piano and puts it down with a slight smile as if overwhelmed by the weight of alien antiquity. Then she goes over to the desk and picks up the printed music._] Mendelssohn's Concerto, Tartini's Sonata in G Minor, Bach's Chaconne... [_She looks up at the book-rack._] "History of the American Commonwealth," "Cyclopædia of History," "History of the Jews"--he seems very fond of history. Ah, there's Shelley and Tennyson. [_With surprise_] Nietzsche next to the Bible? No Russian books apparently---- [_Re-enter MENDEL triumphantly with a large sealed letter._]
MENDEL Here it is! As it came on Saturday, my mother was afraid David would open it!
VERA [_Smiling_] But what _can_ you do with a letter except open it? Any more than with an oyster?
MENDEL [_Smiling as he puts the letter on DAVID'S desk_] To a pious Jew letters and oysters are alike forbidden--at least letters may not be opened on our day of rest.
VERA I'm sure I couldn't rest till I'd opened mine. [_Enter from the kitchen FRAU QUIXANO, defending herself with excited gesticulation. She is an old lady with a black wig, but her appearance is dignified, venerable even, in no way comic. She speaks Yiddish exclusively, that being largely the language of the Russian Pale._]
FRAU QUIXANO _Obber ich hob gesogt zu Kathleen_----
MENDEL [_Turning and going to her_] Yes, yes, mother, that's all right now.
FRAU QUIXANO [_In horror, perceiving her Hebrew book on the floor, where KATHLEEN has dropped it_] _Mein Buch!_ [_She picks it up and kisses it piously._]
MENDEL [_Presses her into her fireside chair_] _Ruhig, ruhig, Mutter!_ [_To VERA_] She understands barely a word of English--she won't disturb us.
VERA Oh, but I must be going--I was so long finding the house, and look! it has begun to snow! [_They both turn their heads and look at the falling snow._]
MENDEL All the more reason to wait for David--it may leave off. He can't be long now. Do sit down. [_He offers a chair._]
FRAU QUIXANO [_Looking round suspiciously_] _Wos will die Shikseh?_
VERA What does your mother say?
MENDEL [_Half-smiling_] Oh, only asking what your heathen ladyship desires.
VERA Tell her I hope she is well.
MENDEL _Das Fräulein hofft dass es geht gut_----
FRAU QUIXANO [_Shrugging her shoulders in despairing astonishment_] _Gut? Un' wie soll es gut gehen--in Amerika!_ [_She takes out her spectacles, and begins slowly polishing and adjusting them._]
VERA [_Smiling_] I understood that last word.
MENDEL She asks how can anything possibly go well in America!
VERA Ah, she doesn't like America.
MENDEL [_Half-smiling_] Her favourite exclamation is "_A Klog zu Columbessen!_"
VERA What does that mean?
MENDEL Cursed be Columbus!
VERA [_Laughingly_] Poor Columbus! I suppose she's just come over.
MENDEL Oh, no, it must be ten years since I sent for her.
VERA Really! But your nephew was born here?
MENDEL No, he's Russian too. But please sit down, you had better get his answer at once. [_VERA sits._]
VERA I suppose _you_ taught him music.
MENDEL I? I can't play the violin. He is self-taught. In the Russian Pale he was a wonder-child. Poor David! He always looked forward to coming to America; he imagined I was a famous musician over here. He found me conductor in a cheap theatre--a converted beer-hall.
VERA Was he very disappointed?
MENDEL Disappointed? He was enchanted! He is crazy about America.
VERA [_Smiling_] Ah, _he_ doesn't curse Columbus.
MENDEL My mother came with her life behind her: David with his life before him. Poor boy!
VERA Why do you say poor boy?
MENDEL What is there before him here but a terrible struggle for life? If he doesn't curse Columbus, he'll curse fate. Music-lessons and dance-halls, beer-halls and weddings--every hope and ambition will be ground out of him, and he will die obscure and unknown. [_His head sinks on his breast, FRAU QUIXANO is heard faintly sobbing over her book. The sobbing continues throughout the scene._]
VERA [_Half rising_] You have made your mother cry.
MENDEL Oh, no--she understood nothing. She always cries on the eve of the Sabbath.
VERA [_Mystified, sinking back into her chair_] Always cries? Why?
MENDEL [_Embarrassed_] Oh, well, a Christian wouldn't understand----
VERA Yes I could--do tell me!
MENDEL She knows that in this great grinding America, David and I must go out to earn our bread on Sabbath as on week-days. She never says a word to us, but her heart is full of tears.
VERA Poor old woman. It was wrong of us to ask your nephew to play at the Settlement for nothing.
MENDEL [_Rising fiercely_] If you offer him a fee, he shall not play. Did you think I was begging of you?
VERA I beg your pardon---- [_She smiles._] There, _I_ am begging of _you_. Sit down, please.
MENDEL [_Walking away to piano_] I ought not to have burdened you with our troubles--you are too young.
VERA [_Pathetically_] I young? If you only knew how old I am!
MENDEL You?
VERA I left my youth in Russia--eternities ago.
MENDEL You know our Russia! [_He goes over to her and sits down._]
VERA Can't you see I'm a Russian, too? [_With a faint tremulous smile_] I might even have been a Siberian had I stayed. But I escaped from my gaolers.
MENDEL You were a Revolutionist!
VERA Who can live in Russia and not be? So you see trouble and I are not such strangers.
MENDEL Who would have thought it to look at you? Siberia, gaolers, revolutions! [_Rising_] What terrible things life holds!
VERA Yes, even in free America. [_FRAU QUIXANO'S sobbing grows slightly louder._]
MENDEL That Settlement work must be full of tragedies.
VERA Sometimes one sees nothing but the tragedy of things. [_Looking toward the window_] The snow is getting thicker. How pitilessly it falls--like fate.
MENDEL [_Following her gaze_] Yes, icy and inexorable. [_The faint sobbing of FRAU QUIXANO over her book, which has been heard throughout the scene as a sort of musical accompaniment, has combined to work it up to a mood of intense sadness, intensified by the growing dusk, so that as the two now gaze at the falling snow, the atmosphere seems overbrooded with melancholy. There is a moment or two without dialogue, given over to the sobbing of FRAU QUIXANO, the roar of the wind shaking the windows, the quick falling of the snow. Suddenly a happy voice singing "My Country 'tis of Thee" is heard from without._]
FRAU QUIXANO [_Pricking up her ears, joyously_] _Do ist Dovidel!_