Song of Love Page #4

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Prof. Schumann, since I

learned to play the piano...

since I hear music,

with all my devotion.

I was his admirer.

That's why I want to study with you.

And also because I appreciate his work

more than any other composer in Europe.

Any other composer gives Europe.

I guess you know there are

very few musicians...

that they share their enthusiasm.

Alg n modest crisis in the provinces.

We received some letters,

from time to time.

We are living. I teach...

I do criticism for

some magazines.

I write my works and we wait.

We hope we live long enough.

This house is very big. Do you want

to live in it while you study?

With pleasure.

I suppose you can pay for

the lodging, I hope so.

The baby. I forgot to feed him.

- Bertha!

- I do not work hard enough, huh?

Every night, my feet in hot

water to be able to sleep ..

Ten years working

in this house...

the only thing left of

me are skins and sebum.

- Bertha, what are you talking about?

- Ask that man!

Bertha, no...!

What have you done?

See, I...

But we have eight

guests to dinner.

I swear, Clara, we had

a little discussion...

but we reach a total

understanding.

- They arrived?

- Word of honor.

And in the heat of the discussion you

did not hit him with a frying pan...

- By the head?

- Do not.

Why you will enter the men in the kitchen.

Eight guests.

What are we going to do?

Robert, put on your coat and go tell

them there will be no dinner ..

But today is New Year's Eve!

Could not we, Prof.

Schumann and I...?

Well said!

- You and I will make dinner!

- Do not!

You will not need or help us ..

Or that you appear in the kitchen ..

Robert, you can not do

that with our friends ..

Well, we'll get c modes.

Carrots!

Yams!

Bertha does not even

kill the hen ..

The hen for dinner ..

- Kill her?

- Sure, we will not eat it alive...

It's simple. Just cut the neck.

What are you waiting for, Robert?

It will not be necessary to

remove the feathers before?

Do not say nonsense!

Go ahead, c gela by the legs ..

I am a music teacher,

not a murderer ..

- Do it t.

- I?

It's just cutting the throat.

I could not. It takes strength.

That is men's work ..

I will do..

Mr. Brahms, I knew it was you.

A brave...

since he said he would

live in this house.

- Are you sure the knife cuts well?

- I'm afraid so..

I'll go to the cellar to look for the wine.

Nothing of that. If I

can stand it, you too.

- She has put an egg!

- What? Clear!

- Ahab?

- She has laid an egg ..

It would be hard to kill her now.

It would not be right.

Poor girl Poor girl.

And you must have scared her.

Do not worry.

You can put as many

eggs as you want.

I do not want to talk about it

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