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But the village burgomaster, ordinarily decent, saw through their artifices.... Goaded and goaded, finally Iistral assailed his pestering relatives with a shovel with which he was working among the gentle flowers in the garden ... at his customary task of tending them with Lisel.... And now the burgomaster, bribed, had reason to adjudge him insane.
I boldly complained of my poverty, inasmuch as it deterred me from my work. "I have now proven my case," I wrote him, "my poems have appeared in the Century, in Everybody's, in Munsey's.... "I have acted, as well, as a professional in a first-rate play, by a great European dramatist ... giving Kansas the distinction of being the first to produce Iistral on the American stage....
I threw my will, my entire spirit, against the incoming tide of ridicule which would wreck the play even with the rising of the curtain. I pictured to myself the beautiful woman who had drowned herself; I burned with her unhappiness ... I felt her hovering near me ... I thought of the lovely passion we had known together ... I was Iistral.
I noticed that he did not wear his many-patched trousers, but was well dressed.... "attending a regents' meeting, young man, where I suppose I'll have to stand up in your defence again.... "It's a good thing you don't run after the women, Gregory, or your case would be entirely lost." "And what are you up to now?" asked Mackworth. "acting ... in Van Maarden's Iistral ... leading rôle!"
"You look skinnier than ever!" "I am taking the part seriously, and it's bringing me down. I like to do real things when I get a chance, Mr. Mackworth ... and I am going to make the two performances of Iistral memorable ones." "You need a new suit of clothes very badly." "I know I do. But I have no money, and no credit." "Well see about that, my young Villon."
The curtain went up, I sitting there, the orchestra softly breathing Massenet's Elegy meant to be the music sent from the spirit world, the melody that I, Iistral, heard, whenever my dead mistress was present.... The orchestra finished the melody. It stopped and left the house in expectancy. A mistake had been made on the entrance-cue of little Lisel, my child-nephew.
The news had come for Iistral that his rich uncle in America had died and left him a fortune ... now his family would try and have him adjudged insane, in order to lay hands on the wealth for their own uses.... That third act went off well.... "But you skipped a few lines in that act, Mr. Gregory," warned the directress, concerned. "Oh, let me alone, will you!"
I was to act as lead in a play by a world-celebrated author, in its premier American production. The story of it was that of a young poet-student, Iistral ... eccentric ... a sensitive ... who had, while tutoring the children of a count, fallen in love with the countess, his wife ... on the discovery of the liaison, she had committed suicide in a lake on their private grounds....
The play opened up with the young student, Iistral, come back home, after the wife's death.... The tragedy had affected him strangely. He wore a Hindoo robe, let his beard grow like a Yogi ... was irritated with the unimaginative, self-seeking smugness of the grown-ups. He found in Lisel, a little niece of his, the wise, innocent, illuminated imagination of childhood.
And Iistral was dragged off, wailing, to the asylum. With my clothes in literal rags I went through the rehearsals, attended classes, kept up my athletics.... Often I woke up in the night, crying out, with tears rolling down my cheeks, the lines of unhappy Iistral ... the spirit-woman Egeria grew real as flesh and blood to me.... "Egeria! Egeria!
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