Page:Plays by Jacinto Benavente - Second series (IA playsbyjacintobe00bena).pdf/67

 present I get on with art. I belong to a musical coterie; we adore music—Wilf's music. What music! I suppose you never heard of Wilf? He is scarcely in your line. He was an extraordinary genius who died in a madhouse, raving, because nobody appreciated his music. After his death, his widow, Mme. Clemencia Wilf, and his son Gottfried

. What a horrible name!

. The title of a symphonic poem by his father. The son and widow, together with a little group of enthusiasts, made up their minds that Wilf's music should be admired and appreciated by everybody, so they organized a company and began giving concerts, some of them conducted by Wulf—have you never heard of Wulf?—others by Gottfried Wilf. Nobody paid any attention at first; some even went so far as to throw potatoes; but, little by little, a change for the better set in, and soon all fell at the feet of Mme. Wilf. People lost their heads, the number of admirers increased

. And you lost yours, too—I can see it.

. Nonsense! Nobody was fooled, except a few earnest admirers, who are necessary in any business. However, the widow, the son and the conductor, not to speak of the musicians, understand perfectly how to take advantage of persons who are perfectly willing to be taken advantage of, so long as they appear superior to others who do not understand and appreciate the music of Wilf. Some very distinguished names occurred on the list, so I exerted my influence with the Comte de Tournerelles to have him take stock in the Wilf and Wulf Concerts Company. The other shareholders welcomed me with open arms. Much was forgiven, because I had loved much—the music of Wilf, their idol. Now I belong to the smart set, I associate with people who are chic, with princesses, the nobility, with great artists. I am preparing my entrée to the fashionable circles of Paris this