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No, my lord Count, you won’t have her... you won’t have her. Just because you’re a great nobleman, you think you’re a great genius! Nobility, riches, a title, high positions, that all makes a man so proud! What have you done for such fortune? You went to the trouble of being born, and nothing else. Otherwise, a rather ordinary man; while I, good grief! lost in the obscure crowd, I had to use more skill and planning just to survive than has been put into governing all of Spain for the last hundred years.
I throw myself full-force into the theater; would that I’d put a stone around my neck! I dash off a comedy about life in a harem. As a Spanish author, I believe I can jeer at Mohammed without qualms; at that instant an envoy from... I don’t know where complains that my lines are offensive to the Sublime Porte, Persia, part of the peninsula of India, all of Egypt, the kingdoms of Barca, Tripoli, Tunisia, Algiers and Morocco: and there's my comedy roasted to please Muslim princes, none of whom, I believe, can read, and who bruise our scapulas while calling us “Christian dogs”!—Unable to debase my spirit, they avenge themselves by abusing it.—My cheeks hollowed; my time seemed to be up. I could see the dreaded bill collector arriving in the distance with a quill stuck in his wig.
I’d tell him... stupid things in print have no importance except where people hold them back; without the right to criticize, there’s no such thing as flattering praise; and it’s only little men that are afraid of little writings.
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Nexus
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เขียนเมื่อ |
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7 ม.ค. 55 12:50:57
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