The Melting-Pot Part 35

[_His head sinks on a little table. The elevator comes up again, but he does not raise his head. VERA, pale and sad, steps out and walks gently over to him; stands looking at him with maternal pity; then decides not to disturb him and is stealing away when suddenly he looks up and perceives her and springs to his feet with a dazed glad cry._]

Vera!

VERA [_Turns, speaks with grave dignity_]

Miss Andrews has charged me to convey to you the heart-felt thanks and congratulations of the Settlement.

DAVID [_Frozen_]

Miss Andrews is very kind.... I trust you are well.

VERA Thank you, Mr. Quixano. Very well and very busy. So you'll excuse me.

[_She turns to go._]

DAVID Certainly.... How are your folks?

VERA [_Turns her head_]

They are gone back to Russia. And yours?

DAVID You just saw them all.

VERA [_Confused_]

Yes--yes--of course--I forgot! Good-bye, Mr. Quixano.

DAVID Good-bye, Miss Revendal.

[_He drops back on the chair. VERA walks to the elevator, then just before ringing turns again._]

VERA I shouldn't advise you to sit here in the damp.

DAVID My uncle dried the chair.

[_Bitterly_]

Curious how every one is concerned about my body and no one about my soul.

VERA Because your soul is so much stronger than your body. Why, think! It has just lifted a thousand people far higher than this roof-garden.

DAVID Please don't you congratulate me, too! That would be too ironical.

VERA [_Agitated, coming nearer_]

Irony, Mr. Quixano? Please, please, do not imagine there is any irony in my congratulations.

DAVID The irony is in all the congratulations. How can I endure them when I know what a terrible failure I have made!

VERA Failure! Because the critics are all divided? That is the surest proof of success. You have produced something real and new.

DAVID I am not thinking of Pappelmeister's connoisseurs--_I_ am the only connoisseur, the only one who knows. And every bar of my music cried "Failure! Failure!" It shrieked from the violins, blared from the trombones, thundered from the drums. It was written on all the faces----

VERA [_Vehemently, coming still nearer_]

Oh, no! no! I watched the faces--those faces of toil and sorrow, those faces from many lands. They were fired by your vision of their coming brotherhood, lulled by your dream of their land of rest. And I could see that you were right in speaking to the people. In some strange, beautiful, way the inner meaning of your music stole into all those simple souls----

DAVID [_Springing up_]

And _my_ soul? What of _my_ soul? False to its own music, its own mission, its own dream. That is what I mean by failure, Vera. I preached of G.o.d's Crucible, this great new continent that could melt up all race-differences and vendettas, that could purge and re-create, and G.o.d tried me with his supremest test. He gave me a heritage from the Old World, hate and vengeance and blood, and said, "Cast it all into my Crucible." And I said, "Even thy Crucible cannot melt this hate, cannot drink up this blood." And so I sat crooning over the dead past, gloating over the old blood-stains--I, the apostle of America, the prophet of the G.o.d of our children. Oh--how my music mocked me! And you--so fearless, so high above fate--how you must despise me!

VERA I? Ah no!

DAVID You must. You do. Your words still sting. Were it seven seas between us, you said, our love must cross them. And I--I who had prated of seven seas----

VERA Not seas of blood--I spoke selfishly, thoughtlessly. I had not realised that crimson flood. Now I see it day and night. O G.o.d!

[_She shudders and covers her eyes._]

DAVID There lies my failure--to have brought it to your eyes, instead of blotting it from my own.

VERA No man could have blotted it out.

DAVID Yes--by faith in the Crucible. From the blood of battlefields spring daisies and b.u.t.tercups. In the divine chemistry the very garbage turns to roses. But in the supreme moment my faith was found wanting. You came to me--and I thrust you away.

VERA I ought not to have come to you.... I ought not to have come to you to-day. We must not meet again.

DAVID Ah, you cannot forgive me!

VERA Forgive? It is I that should go down on my knees for my father's sin.

[_She is half-sinking to her knees. He stops her by a gesture and a cry._]

DAVID No! The sins of the fathers shall not be visited on the children.

VERA My brain follows you, but not my heart. It is heavy with the sense of unpaid debts--debts that can only cry for forgiveness.

DAVID You owe me nothing----

VERA But my father, my people, my country....

[_She breaks down. Recovers herself._]

My only consolation is, you need nothing.

DAVID [_Dazed_]

I--need--nothing?

VERA Nothing but your music ... your dreams.

DAVID And your love? Do I not need that?

VERA [_Shaking her head sadly_]

No.

DAVID You say that because I have forfeited it.

VERA It is my only consolation, I tell you, that you do not need me. In our happiest moments a suspicion of this truth used to lacerate me. But now it is my one comfort in the doom that divides us. See how you stand up here above the world, alone and self-sufficient. No woman could ever have more than the second place in your life.

DAVID But you have the _first_ place, Vera!

VERA [_Shakes her head again_]

No--I no longer even desire it. I have gotten over that womanly weakness.

DAVID You torture me. What do you mean?