ykiewicz? . . . and Wawrzecki? . . . and Razowiec? . . .
perhaps they are artists, eh? . . . Artists! . . . Do you remember
Kalacinski? . . . He was an artist! Or Krzensinski, Stobinski,
Felek, and Chelchowski? . . . Those were artists who could bring
down the house! . . . What are our actors compared with them? . . ."
he asked encompassing with an inimical glance the company about
them. "What is this band of shoemakers, tailors, paper hangers,
barbers? . . . Comedians, ragamuffins, and clowns! . . . Bah! art is
going to the dogs. In a few more years when we are gone, they will
make of the stage a barroom, a circus, or a storage warehouse.

"Do you hear? . . . they give me half-sheet roles of old men and old
nincompoops, to me! . . . do you hear? . . . to me, who for forty
years have upheld the entire classical repertory to me! Oh! oh!" he
hissed quietly tearing his finger nails convulsively.

"Topolski! . . . Topolski alone has a talent, but what does he do
with it? . . . A bandit, a Singalese, who goes into epileptic fits
on the stage, who is ready to put a barn on the stage if those new
authors require it. They call that realism, while in truth it is
nothing but roguery! . . ."

"And the women? . . . you forget the women, sir! . . . Who plays the
parts of sweethearts and heroines? . . . Who is in the chorus? . . .
scrub-women and barmaids, who have made of the theater a screen for
their licentiousness. But that's nothing . . . the directors want
that; what do they care if these women possess neither talent,
intelligence nor beauty! . . . They give them the most important
roles. They act the parts of heroines and look like chambermaids or
like those who walk the streets! . . . But what do the directors
care as long as the business keeps going and the box office is sold
out . . . that's all they care about!" She spoke rapidly and the
blood rushed to her face so violently that she became all red, in
spite of the thick layer of powder and cream.

The stage-director, who was once the celebrated hero of a few
theaters, and old Mirowska who was still retained only as a favor
because of her old age and brilliant past completed the camp of the
veterans of the old actors' guard, who had fought in other times,
and looked upon the present with gloomy eyes. They stood beneath the
bridge of a sinking ship, hence no one even heard their cries of
despair.

Kotlicki beckoned to Wladek and made room for him beside himself.

Wl