Director. What was that infernal commotion just now?

Servant. Madame Szenicsey was quarrelling with the artistic director.

Director. Can’t Madame Szenicsey quarrel with the artistic director somewhere else, and not right outside my door?

I’m starting with a few lines from yesterday, because they illustrate the pitfalls of being too literal. I had translated that last phrase as “precisely in my antechamber”, and realized immediately when I looked it over today that nobody would ever say that in English. “Right outside my door” loses the phrasing of the original, but preserves the basic sense and is far more natural. (On the plus side, at least I had the sense to break off working when the quality dived.)

I left off there, at the bottom of the pages, so I’ll give you one full page today, to give you a sense of how much a page is:

Servant. She likes to quarrel here, because she also wants the managing director to hear it.

Director. This too. That I should have so many problems today! And why are they quarrelling?

Servant. Madame Szeniczey, like a prima donna, demanded a clog dance in the new operetta. And the artistic director gave the clog dance to young Miss Bán. Now she wants the artistic director to take the clog dance back from Miss Bán.

Director. Very good. He looks at the papers.

Servant. Her mother incites her.

Director. I didn’t ask about that. He looks through the papers.

Short pause.

Servant. Mr. Director, what shall become of these women … He displays the list … who are waiting outside?

Director. Let them wait. How many are left?

Servant looking at the list. Eleven.

Director. Monstrous, that they don’t want to give up. Already I’ve thrown five of them out.

Servant. I can send all of them home, if you would prefer not to bother with them.

This brings me up to four pages translated, with seventy-one to go.