He took and almost broke the boy's arm with shaking it. Jean-Christophe, trembling more and more, and raising his elbow to ward off the blows, said again:
"I won't play any more. First, because I don't like being beaten. And then…."
He could not finish. A terrific blow knocked the wind out of him, and
Melchior roared:
"Ah! you don't like being beaten? You don't like it?…"
Blows rained. Jean-Christophe bawled through his sobs:
"And then … I don't like music!… I don't like music!…"
He slipped down from his chair. Melchior roughly put him back, and knocked his knuckles against the keyboard. He cried:
"You shall play!"
And Jean-Christophe shouted:
"No! No! I won't play!"