Goldman: Who's in here? I know who it is. I know who it is, I tell you. I have a message for you, you snuffer out of candles, you wholesaler in the coffin business. I know who you are! And your unseen face, I tell you, I'm not ready for the Angel of Death. You I'm not ready for you. Take that back to the cemetery. My pulse still beats, my eyes still see. The flesh still warm, and my heart... you mumzer from a mausoleum, my heart still loves! What? Peace, you offer me. You can have that peace, peace of the grave. No, no thank you. Rest? No cares? Well, ll take the cares and the woes and the aggravation, and yes, and the pain. Listen, Angel! Go down to Argentina, look for Hitler. Goldman is not ready! My child is out there, the son of my son, the thing I love. Would I be able to caress him and fondle him and love him, lying in a box?