Composer. I see you’re in a rotten mood.
Director. Is it any wonder, I ask you, that my bile is overflowing? You saw those women here in my antechamber?
Composer. Yes.
Director. Already I’ve thrown six of them out this morning, and there are still ten left. Applications, offers of service, the beginning of the season. They spring out of the ground at times like this. All of them want to become actresses.
Composer. That’s why you’re angry?
Director. No. I’m angry because every one of them throws herself on my neck without a moment’s delay.
Composer. Surely that’s a good thing.
Director. The devil it’s good. I must be all of their lovers! Believe you me, it’s not the actresses who are bad, but rather these women who want to become actresses. And every one of them believes that in this profession, the only way to the top is through love.
Composer. But this must be amusing!
Director. To you. I’m fed up to here with it. You’re coming to the theater now for the first time. This is your first operetta.
Composer. Is it possible that these beautiful little women can drive you into such a rage?
Director. The prettier they are, the better they can infuriate me, because the more difficult is my position. If only I weren’t in such need of chorus girls! Then they would fly from here.
Composer. It’s marvellous, that you become so insensible here in the theater. To me everything is new, everything’s surprising, beautiful, interesting, exciting.
Director. This is the grave chamber musician’s honeymoon with the theater.
Composer. And the women, dear Mr. Director, these women on the stage! This gentleness, this amiability, this good humor! And so much beauty among them!
Director. Are you a married man?
Four pages today, and for once the translation went smoothly. This brings the running total to thirteen pages, out of seventy-five. If I hadn’t been to see a Hungarian play at the Kennedy Center tonight, I would keep going, but as it’s rather late I went only one page over my daily goal and stopped at the bottom of the page, which is why my excerpt ends where it does.
I was not quite able to understand the Hungarian dialogue without the help of the English supertitles, but I actually did considerably better than I’d expected. It was enough of a mental strain that my comprehension dipped sharply after the first half hour, though; I could understand as much of it if I really concentrated, but my concentration kept slipping.