Composer. Operetta, operetta, this is a roomy concept. What style, what sort? Singer? Soubrette?
Ilonka. We would say: assistant soubrette.
Composer. This is something new, Miss. But interesting. What did you understand by this?
Ilonka. If you please, strictly speaking I was in the chorus.
Director. Ha, at last.
Ilonka. Who is this, may I ask?
Composer. Don’t mind him. Skultéti, don’t interject remarks, this makes the second time I’ve spoken to you. You know I won’t endure this.
Director. I beg your pardon. I will keep quiet.
Ilonka. So you must.
Director stands up, and looks angrily at Ilonka.
Ilonka stares him down. Yes, yes!
Director sits down.
Composer. Steady on, continue.
Ilonka. Dear, reassuring man, I would like to kiss your hand.
Composer. In a word, you were in the chorus.
Three pages tonight. I should probably try to do one more; that would bring my two-week total up to 42 pages, or an average of exactly three pages per day. At that rate, I’d finish on April 2nd, although I think it’s more likely I’ll be done by the end of the month. I’m not sure if I’ll take the time to give it much of a polish before comparing it to the preexisting English translation; I suspect I’ll learn more by moving directly on to a second play.
One interesting phrase this time, “Ilonka farkasszemet néz vele”, which I’ve translated as “Ilonka stares him down” but which is literally “Ilonka looks wolf eyes with him”.