MENDEL Well, I haven't time to discuss it now. [_He winds his muffler round his throat._] DAVID Why, where are you going? MENDEL [_Ironically_] Where _should_ I be going--in the snow--on the eve of the Sabbath? Suppose we say to synagogue! DAVID Oh, uncle--how you always seem to hanker after those old things! MENDEL [_Tartly_] Nonsense! [_He takes his umbrella from the stand._] I don't like to see our people going to pieces, that's all. DAVID Then why did you come to America? Why didn't you work for a Jewish land? You're not even a Zionist. MENDEL I can't argue now. There's a pack of giggling schoolgirls waiting to waltz. DAVID The fresh romping young things! Think of their happiness! I should love to play for them. MENDEL [_Sarcastically_] I can see you are yourself again. [_He opens the street-door--turns back._] What about your own lesson? Can't we go together? DAVID I must first write down what is singing in my soul--oh, uncle, it seems as if I knew suddenly what was wanting in my music! MENDEL [_Drily_] Well, don't forget what is wanting in the house! The rent isn't paid yet. [_Exit through street-door. As he goes out, he touches and kisses the_ Mezuzah _on the door-post, with a subconsciously antagonistic revival of religious impulse. DAVID opens his desk, takes out a pile of musical manuscript, sprawls over his chair and, humming to himself, scribbles feverishly with the quill. After a few moments FRAU QUIXANO yawns, wakes, and stretches herself. Then she looks at the clock._] FRAU QUIXANO _Shabbos!_ [_She rises and goes to the table and sees there are no candles, walks to the chiffonier and gets them and places them in the candlesticks, then lights the candles, muttering a ceremonial Hebrew benediction._] _Boruch atto haddoshem ellôheinu melech hoôlam assher kiddishonu bemitzvôsov vettzivonu lehadlik neir shel shabbos._ [_She pulls down the blinds of the two windows, then she goes to the rapt composer and touches him, remindingly, on the shoulder. He does not move, but continues writing._] _Dovidel!_ [_He looks up dazedly. She points to the candles._] _Shabbos!_ [_A sweet smile comes over his face, he throws the quill resignedly away and submits his head to her hands and her muttered Hebrew blessing._] _Yesimcho elôhim ke-efrayim vechimnasseh--yevorechecho haddoshem veyishmerecho, yoer hadoshem ponov eilecho vechunecho, yisso hadoshem ponov eilecho veyosem lecho sholôm._ [_Then she goes toward the kitchen. As she turns at the door, he is again writing. She shakes her finger at him, repeating_] _Gut Shabbos!_