Mother and Son
Gitele
You did wrong, Moshele. You shouldn’t have spoken to her in that tone. (He continues to pace the room.) You should speak gently to her. She is your mother!
Moshele
I have no mother! She hates me! (In a choked voice.) She accuses me of my father’s death! (He stumbles to the table, hiding his face in his hands. Gitele goes to him, takes him in her arms and kisses him tenderly.)
Gitele
Don’t, don’t, Moshele. Control yourself. (She bends over him.)
Moshele (as if to himself)
I am denied! Friendless! To all here I am as a stranger! (Pushing her suddenly from him—angrily.) And you, too! To you, also, I have become a stranger! (He strides back and forth. She follows him with eyes full of tears.) It was foolish, my coming. It arouses me to anger—makes me embittered. Everything here excites me! (He relents, goes to Gitele and embraces her with painful fervor. His face expresses remorse. She nestles close to him and her tears flow silently.)
Gitele (very gently)
Speak differently to her. Plead with her. Speak to her as to a mother.
38
