The Pawnbroker's Son—That's right I am a musician—a pianist, you know—and I hope that after the war I shall be able to tell America, through my music, of the glory of this holy cause.
The Professor's Son—I didn't know you were a pianist.
The Pawnbroker's Son—Yes—ever since I was a boy—I have had no other interest. My father tried to make me go into his shop but I couldn't stand it. He got angry and refused to support me; I had a hard time until I won a scholarship at a New York musical college. Just before the war I had a chance to play the Schumann concerto with the Philharmonic; the critics all said that in another year I would be—but fellows—you must think me frightfully conceited to talk so, and besides what matters my musical career in comparison with the sacrifice which everyone is making?
The Streetcleaner's Son—And gladly making, too, for it is easy to give up all, as did Joan of Arc, for France. Attention, men! here comes one of our officers.
The three stand at attention.
Enter the Lieutenant.
The Lieutenant—Well, men, do you feel ready?
The Three—More than ready, sir—eager.
The Lieutenant—Brave men! (To the Professor's Son) Come here a minute, Keating. I have something to ask you before we go over the top.
The Professor's Son and the Lieutenant go to one side.